Christmas break was here before we knew it. Suddenly we were all packing up and heading home to spend a quick forty-eight hours with our folks, then hustling back to campus again to get ready for the Midlands Championships. We'd have only a couple days to burn off our half-portion Christmas dinners and get back into training before we left for Evanston.
It was always a hectic time, shuttling back and forth right before our first major competition of the season, but this year was especially messed up. Travis's little sister had the flu. His parents hadn't told him about it for fear he'd skip the trip home. He was already starting to feel it by the time he got back to campus, and the next day he was sick as a dog. He wouldn't be going to the Midlands and we needed to line up a replacement in a hurry.
That's the trouble with parents. They start you out wrestling at five years old, they push you to train your ass off all through school and win that college scholarship like nothing else matters. You nail that lifelong dream and get just four short seasons to wrestle in the most competitive environment on earth. Every minute you spend on the mat till they blow that final whistle is sacred, because when it's over, it's done; unless you're some kind of world class phenom, you'll never get a chance to put on the singlet and wrestle with the boys ever again. And still, your parents act like it's a fucking tragedy if you miss one goddamn Christmas dinner for the sake of your health and your team.
With Travis suddenly knocked out of the lineup, we were all thrown into chaos. Justin bunked in with Carter and me so he wouldn't catch the bug. Ric was left hanging; he'd be going with us but Trav couldn't help him prepare, and wouldn't be there to see him through. Jase had his hands full with the big guys, and the assistant who coached the lower weight classes was worthless, so Carter, Justin and I were scrambling to figure out how to get everybody up to speed and still manage to get enough training in ourselves to survive our own matches. It'd be Willis and Tanner's first Midlands too, and while Brady had made the trip last year, he was still very new to the squad.
The Midlands was a big deal to us. It set the tone for the whole rest of our season. Guys showed up there looking to make names for themselves, and if you weren't ready for it, you could get steamrolled pretty easy.
The announcement came down from Coach Wilson that Andy would wrestle in Travis's place. It was the only logical choice; he was our backup at 133 and would have no problem making weight. But... Jesus. One more guy with hardly any match experience to deal with. Andy wasn't family but he was a friend; we couldn't just cut him loose and let him flounder.
And one announcement more, as if we hadn't heard enough. Justin was named a team captain; he'd be filling the spot left open when Shafe graduated last spring. Good news for a change, and well deserved. But at that point, anything new was one more potential distraction. In our world, focus is everything.
We gathered up in our dorm room, Carter and me, Justin, Ric, Tanner, Brady, Willis, and Andy sitting in a tight circle on our padded floor, with Trav looking in from his sick bed on Zoom. Us old guys tried to give the newbies a sense of what they'd be up against. And Brady gave them his perspective of what it was like for a first-timer.
"Keeping your head in the game is key," I told them. "The matches come hard and fast, you won't have time to worry about what happened in the last one. You need to just forget it and move on to the next. We'll be there to help keep you on track... but since there's so many of you, we'll have to share."
Justin wrapped a beefy arm around Tanner's neck and pulled him in. "You're my boy, so you're with me. And I'll be lookin' out for that shithead too," pointing over at Andy.
"Willis, I got you, as always," Carter said. "Brady, you'll help with your brother and I'll help you, I think it's best if the three of us stick together... but Ryan's still there if you need him."
"Ric," I said, "You're with me. Andy, I'll help you out too, whenever Justin can't. And all of you, seriously, you gotta depend on your brother. That's what he's there for."
"Sounds like a plan," Travis chirped from online... and then broke out in a coughing fit.
Andy looked right and left. "So... can we start the circle jerk now?"
We were a tight group on the ride up there, each of the veterans maintaining a close physical connection with his youngsters. A wrestler never feels right if he doesn't have his hands on somebody. At the hotel we were divided up as usual, four to a room and two to a bed. We were all beginning to feel the jitters. Carter and I satisfied each other with blow jobs while Brady and Willis banged it out on the mattress three feet away. Next door, Ric and Tanner jacked away the butterflies together, and Justin settled down Andy with a good hard serving of stiff meat. Nobody had any trouble getting to sleep.
But the nerves started kicking in all over again when we showed up at the locker room in the morning. As always, it was one hell of a scene. Guys were putting themselves on display, strutting around stark naked or in skin-tight underwear, flexing muscles, passing by one another brushing skin against skin, establishing their domains. On the surface all was casual and nonchalant, but knowing what goes on inside a wrestler's head, you couldn't help being anxious and on edge over the explosion of rampant violence and raw sex that was never more than a word or a heartbeat away.
The two redshirts were completely in awe; this was nothing like high school. Willis stuck close to Brady's side, both of them playing it cool and collected but walking on eggshells just the same. Andy was a kid in a candy store. His grin was a yard wide and his eyes as big as saucers, drinking in all that muscled flesh and thinking about the cocks that could be railing him. We nudged the kids out of their head trips and herded them to our assigned lockers, told them to start gearing up and took a quick look at the brackets. The little guys were already being called for weigh-ins.
When it was time for my weight class I stripped and headed for the scales. They were already lining up, about half of the guys bare-ass and the rest in sheer compression shorts that highlighted every contour. I was about to join the line when I heard somebody call out behind me.
"Ryan!"
It was Noah, my Indiana brother, dangling his cock out and heading for weigh-in same as I was. We broke out in grins. He closed the distance in an instant and we wrapped our arms around each other and hugged, raw flesh on raw flesh, in full view of every single guy we'd be meeting later on the mat. A few murmurs of the "Fuck yeah!" variety welled up from the guys in line, signaling either feigned or genuine approval. Some guys actually cracked smiles. We were oblivious, focused only on seeing each other again and chatting about what we'd been each been up to since the August weekend at Justin's lake house.
Without even trying, we'd just one-upped all the posing and posturing that'd dominated the locker room all morning.
"How's Dave doing?" I asked.
Noah smirked. "Brother, we're grandpas. Our boys have their own boys now."
"Oh wow, are they here with you?"
"Nah, we didn't bring any redshirts this time. They're good kids though. You'll meet `em in dual season. You're hosting this year, I think."
"Right. So... you and Dave are seniors now? How's that going?"
He smiled. "Bittersweet. It's nice that the boys are on their own now, it's fun as hell watching them mentor. And it feels good to be at the top. But fuck man, the weeks are flying by. A couple more months and it's all over."
I pulled him in for another hug; the guys in line were clearly watching, but kept quiet. "Good luck out there," I said. "Hope we meet up on the mat."
Back in our team's corner, the guys were getting antsy. Ric's match would be up first and he was a bundle of nervous energy. I didn't want him to burn himself out too soon. I sat him down, put my arm around his shoulders and did the whole father-son thing, told him about my first Midlands, gave him all kinds of compliments on his training and his skills, let him know we were behind him and whatever happened, win or lose, he was one of us.
I was just trying to calm him down. There'd be enough time to get him fired up all over again before his first match. It struck me though, I was even more concerned about him than I'd been with Brady a year ago. Maybe because he was Trav's boy and not my own, and I was worried about letting my buddy down. Or maybe I'd just matured.
It didn't matter either way. Ric lost the match. He looked damn good and was in it for the full seven minutes but he was up against a third-year guy, a ranked wrestler, and in the end Ric just couldn't hold out. He was sent down to the consolation bracket, to fight his way back toward the podium.
From there on, the matches came fast and furious. Everybody won some and lost some. Carter, Justin and I were constantly at work rebuilding the ego of someone who'd just been slaughtered, or stirring some life back into a guy who'd been wiped out by a long, hard victory... and all in time for his next match, or ours. I'm not sure whether it took more of a toll on them or on us, but I was beginning to feel like I was under more pressure off the mat than on.
By the end of the day, Ric, Tanner, and Willis were done, with two losses apiece. Four of us had each lost one; Andy and Brady went down in the round of 16, Carter and me in the quarters. At least we'd be back on the mat tomorrow. And Justin had made it all the way through, he'd be wrestling in the semifinals. As we gathered up with the rest of the team for the ride back to the hotel, I pulled Brady aside.
"How the hell is Andy still hanging in there?" I asked him in a low voice.
"Don't you know? Didn't you see his matches?"
"Yeah, he looked amazingly fresh in every one, all the way to the end. Even when he lost, he was smiling, congratulating his opponent..."
Brady snickered. "It wasn't congrats. He was arranging a hookup. He's taken dick from every guy he's wrestled, in the locker room right after. As long as he keeps winning, he'll get more matches... and more cock."
Whatever works, I guess.
When we piled into the bus I made sure to sit next to Ric. My obligation to him was done but I didn't want him to feel like I was cutting him loose. He was an athlete like the rest of us and knew how to deal with a loss, but this was his one chance to wrestle this season and I wanted to make sure he wasn't too badly crushed.
I tried to put things in perspective for him. He'd lost to two guys and he'd beaten one who were each on the starting squads for their teams; they'd already had matches this year, and he'd only had workouts in the wrestling room. The NCAA is a whole different level from high school, that's the whole reason we have redshirts to begin with. This was valuable experience for him. It'd help him improve. He gave me back a blank stare, like he wasn't even listening.
"I need to get fucked," he told me.
"Okay. Sure. Your brother..."
"Tanner likes to take cock, I need somebody who'll give it to me. Besides," glancing over his shoulder, "it looks like he's with Justin tonight."
"Got it. Well, I don't know..."
"You've fucked Carter, right?"
"Yeah, but he's my brother."
His eyes narrowed. "And Travis?"
"Well, yeah..."
"Brady? Andy? Willis?"
"Uh-huh."
"Okay, so now it's my turn."
He had a point. "Okay, where?"
"Who the fuck cares?"
We hung around in my hotel room while the rest of the guys went off to dinner. Of course we were starving after a full day of wrestling but there was more than one kind of hungry. He needed to take some cock, and after rubbing up against muscled bodies all day, I was sure in the mood to give it to him. Dinner could wait.
Ric peeled off his clothes. Damn, he had a hot little body. I moved in close and stripped down right in front of him, just inches away, and he watched every move I made with a smile and a stiffening cock. When I dropped my shorts he reached over and fondled my meat, gently stroking. I locked eyes with him, ran my hands up along his triceps to his delts, his traps, the back of his neck. I cradled his head in one hand and pulled him in, planted my lips on his. He made out with me eagerly. My tongue found his and grappled with it, passionate and playful, slipping and wriggling against each other warm and wet.
I held him tight with our chests mashed together but he slid down out of my grasp and kissed and licked his way down my torso, nibbling on my nipples and gnawing on each of my abs along the way. My cock was fully hard when he plunged it into his mouth. He took it in deep, swallowed it whole, burying it in his throat until his lips reached down to the root.
I could've let him suck me for a good long time but he'd asked to be fucked and I was aching to give it to him. I pulled him off of me, shoved him onto the bed. Grabbed his hips and positioned him on all fours. That tight young wrestler ass looked incredible; I couldn't help myself. I shoved my face in between his cheeks and licked his hole with a vengeance. He yelped and jerked with the unexpected pleasure. I reached around, grabbed his cock and stroked as I pushed my face in even deeper and probed him with my tongue. He whimpered and moaned, and begged me to fuck him hard, now... now!
And where did I stash that Vaseline?
I squeezed his cock and tickled his balls, kissed his muscled cheeks and the base of his spine as I stealthily greased my shaft. I didn't want him to know just when it was coming. I pressed my fat head to his hole and plunged in, gliding though those two rings and into his guts with one long stroke. Ric reeled and quaked all over from the sudden feeling of being invaded and owned by a shank of hot rigid meat.
"Oh Goddd, fuck me, fuck me!" he wailed. He didn't have to beg me twice.
I pumped that kid's ass good and hard, drawing back almost all the way out before thrusting in again. I sank my cock into him over and over, drilling him like a machine. He braced himself with both hands on the mattress to take a good pounding and I stroked and jacked him with one hand as I held his hips firm with the other. Ric howled and moaned loudly, loving every solid bang, urging me to drive into him even harder.
In no time the sweat was dripping off both of us. His muscular back was glistening, showing off the contours of each muscle in bold relief. The smell of his musk had me tingling, half drunk with my own hormones, and I threw myself into him blindly, pushing myself closer and closer.
When I knew I couldn't hold out any longer I leaned in with all my weight on him and bucked and pounded, gripped his cock tight and jacked him wildly. I felt him unleash, felt the cum surging through his shaft and go shooting out onto the sheets. Felt his sphincter clamp down on me, and I let myself go, let my cream burst out and flood into his guts as his spasming hole milked out every last drop.
We spurted and spurted together until we were dry, and then collapsed together on the cum-soaked sheets. I wrapped my arms around him and held him, stroked his head like he was my pet. He snuggled and wriggled against me, and I'd swear he was about to start purring in my arms. Fuck, Travis picked out a good boy. And he was a damn fine wrestler too.
"So, hungry now?" I asked, and Ric nodded his head eagerly. "Good. Let's rinse off real quick, and go join the rest of the guys."
There was no doubt what we'd been up to when we strolled into the restaurant together. At least they'd saved us a couple seats. Carter and Justin gave me sly looks, but I sure had nothing to be ashamed of. I was doing my duty, filling in for my sick buddy, taking good care of his boy. I only hoped nobody'd expect me to stay up too long after dinner; I was beat.
The next day we were back at the arena bright and early for our matches, still feeling every last bump and bruise from the day before. Things went downhill pretty quick. Andy was first to lose, but he was smiling at the end... and sure enough, I spotted the bastard heading for the showers with the guy who'd beaten him. Brady dropped out next; his brother Willis was right there at the tunnel to meet him and help pick up the pieces. Carter and I each won our first round but didn't go much further, and Justin lost his semi. The three of us would have one more match to determine our places on the podium.
The big guy would end up taking third in his weight class, and my brother would finish fifth in his, thanks to one of those power moves Duncan had taught him. But first, it was my turn on the mat to battle for seventh place... against my buddy Noah.
I'd lost track of him pretty quickly after weigh-ins the day before. We started at opposite ends of the bracket and it was sheer luck that we'd be ending the tournament together.
Noah and I had first met at the Midlands three years ago, back when I was a redshirt and he was a weight class above me. We'd wrestled an oil match and fucked in Duncan's basement a couple weeks later, and looked forward to getting together again year after year. Now we flashed each other a quick look of greeting as we stepped onto the mat, in the seconds before the ref called us to center and things got serious.
Jase would be coaching me from my corner. On the other side was Pete Wagner, Jase's old mentor, Duncan's former boy and the head of the Indiana family. This was an interesting matchup on many levels. I hadn't seen Duncan over the past two days; there'd been way too much other shit for me to deal with but I knew he was up there planted in some choice seat in the stands, watching the dynamic play out and laughing his ass off. Noah and I faced off and pawed a quick token handshake. The ref blew the whistle and instantly we locked up in a tie.
It turned out to be one of those frustrating-as-fuck defensive matches. We each took our share of shots and re-shots but neither of us could finish. At best, somebody would get in on a deep single-leg and we'd go to the mat and scramble for control only to end up in a stalemate, and we'd reset at center and start over, time and time again.
Maybe we just knew each other too well... but even my brother and I had never shut each other down so completely. And don't think for a minute we were taking it easy on each other. If anything, when you wrestle a good buddy you go all the harder, because it's so much fucking fun to pull out your best moves on somebody you respect. Jase was frantically yelling out orders and I was following as best I could, but fuck it. This was our match, the last of the tournament, and Noah and I would settle it between us.
At the end of regulation we were tied at one apiece, nothing but our escape points, no riding time advantage, and neither had been warned for stalling. We went to the sudden victory period just about gassed but still dredging up bursts of energy out of thin air. And still we got nowhere; we wrestled each other to a standstill. With seconds left I was resigned to let the clock run out and plod through the tiebreakers. A second's mental lapse, and Noah lunged in, dumped me on my butt and it was over.
It happened so quick it almost didn't register, but in a heartbeat we were both up on our feet with our arms wrapped around each other. A huge cheer welled up from the crowd; audiences love that sportsmanship shit... but when we didn't let go after a moment they sort of fell into a hushed silence. We sure as hell didn't care; I was all but ready to launch into a big Hollywood kiss in front of everybody. But we broke it off, and the cheer rose up again. I lumbered to the Indiana corner to congratulate Pete and his staff while Noah shook hands with Jase and Coach Wilson.
We tromped off the mat and out through the tunnel together, sweaty and beat like two best buddies on their way home from a workout. Our cocks had been hard from the time we stepped onto the mat together; it was a safe bet there was some precum mixed in with the sweat that soaked through our singlets.
"Winner takes cock, right?" he asked me.
"Yeah, you guys have that too?"
He grinned. "We do. But if we didn't, I'd still insist on it."
The Midlands had moved off the Northwestern campus and into a modern arena a couple years back. There were no more grungy old gang showers, just a row of nice clean separate stalls. That was a shame in some ways but a definite advantage in others. Noah and I found an empty one, turned the water on full blast, shed our singlets and crowded in together under the stream.
We lathered each other up, carefully smoothing the suds over every inch of each other's bodies, feeling each muscle and tendon and bone. His soapy hand felt incredible gliding up and down my cock, just as his meaty shaft felt so very welcome in mine. I took him in my arms and pulled him in, gave him that kiss we'd held back from the crowd, and we made out and grappled and mashed our slick torsos together, grinding our hips and rubbing stiff cock on stiff cock.
It wasn't long before I was aching to be inside him. I slid my hand along his crack, rubbing his hole on every pass. He flexed his hips along with me as if he was trying to ride my fingers, and I slipped one in for a moment and teased him, pushed in a bit farther and probed his insides, plunged two in and then three, stretching and preparing him. He groaned and turned his back to me, leaned on the wall, pushed his ass out with feet spread wide and whispered, "Give it to me."
I soaped my shaft again with a good thick layer of lather, wrapped an arm around his chest and pressed my head to his hole. His breath caught in sharp little gasps as I pushed in just an inch, then a bit farther, then slid in all the way. He turned his head to me and I leaned in and kissed him feverishly as I pumped him in and out, shoving my meat through his rings and dragging it back, lighting up every nerve in his body and sending waves of pleasure from my cock to my head to the soles of my feet.
It was a goddamn dream to fuck him, every single time. Our bodies matched up so well, our muscles like mirror images of each other, his pale skin and blond hair a perfect contrast to my dark hair and tan. Our smooth slick skins gliding one against the other made it a whole body experience, expanded the pleasure zones from our groins to anything and everything we touched.
I stroked his cock as I fucked him, teased and pinched and played with his nipples, and he rewarded me by moaning and yelping and writhing on my meat in a way that felt so good I could barely hold back. I squeezed him tighter, tensed my muscles, gnawed on his delts and traps and he flexed along with me, and all that solid flesh in my arms just begged me to fuck him and fuck him harder and harder until we both exploded.
"Blow your load in me," he whimpered. "Breed me right fucking now. Give me your fucking cream. I need it so bad..."
I clutched him even tighter and rammed in deep, my pecs mashed against his shoulder blades. He let out a yelp and jolted, and a slug of his cum gushed out and splattered the wet tile. His hole clamped down on my shaft and that was it for me, I unleashed and spurted my load inside him. We both spasmed and bucked, pouring out burst after burst of seed, his swirling down the drain with the stream of hot water and mine coating and saturating his guts.
I stayed inside him until we were both done twitching, and then held on a bit longer just to feel his muscles relaxing and softening in my arms. He turned to me and we tangled up again, both of us wobbly and holding each other up. I kissed him once more, pressed my cheek to his to feel his incredible warmth, and we let the water wash over us and slowly bring us back to normal.
Neither of us would be hanging around overnight; we were close enough to home that our schools wouldn't spring for another night in the hotel. We each rejoined our teammates to watch what we could of the final matches, and then piled onto the buses. Our guys were all dead tired. We rode back to campus huddled together in groups of two or three, leaning comfortably against each other, some falling asleep and others too wrecked to move.
It was late by the time Carter and I dragged ourselves into our dorm room and crawled into the bottom bunk together. We'd figured on giving Justin the top bunk again but he'd spent enough time away from his brother; he told us if Trav was still sick, he'd deal with it. That didn't change our plans any. We'd counted on sharing a bunk that night and couldn't think of a reason not to.
For a while we just lay there holding each other, feeling our hearts beat and listening to us breathe.
"It seems like everything's got complicated," I said. "We've got all these people to take care of now. I could barely focus on my own matches."
Carter nodded. "Goes along with being a team leader, I guess. I don't think they held us back any, but... it was a distraction. We need to be a little better about letting them handle things themselves. They're all big boys."
"It was easier back when it was just you and me."
He nudged me. "It's just you and me right now..."
I gave him a look and ducked under the covers. Found his cock, semi-hard, took it in my mouth and started sucking.
It wasn't the best Midlands we'd ever had but on the whole, the team did okay, and it was largely because of us. So Carter and I didn't finish as well as we wanted but we still made the podium, and we still got some quality wins that'd help us qualify for nationals. What mattered the most is that we showed the guys they could count on us, we'd never let them down, we were all in this together.
And I couldn't think of a better way to cap off the tournament than by swallowing another one of my brother's loads.
The Midlands Championships is a great place to get an early read on everyone and see how you shake out against some of the top wrestlers in the nation. Now the guys will be getting ready for the meat of the season, the Big Ten duals. They'll be looking at two solid months of tough competition, one match after the next. This is where emotions will run high, bodies will be pushed to the limit... and some of the guys are bound to bust loose in wild and unpredictable ways. So stay tuned!
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