Carter was on crutches for a week after the tournament. It was just a precaution. The MRI had come back negative; nothing was torn. But it killed me to see him hobbling around like that. He was such an incredible athlete, such an amazing guy. I was used to seeing him running around with boundless energy - he'd seemed to be unstoppable. I couldn't imagine how frustrating it must be for him now to be injured, unable to so much as walk on his own, even though it was for only a few days.
I tried to keep his spirits up as best I could. Now that we were sharing a dorm room I could devote much more time to being his true brother. We'd wake up in the morning together and spend a few minutes just lying side by side, holding each other or stroking each other's cocks, mainly just to let each other know how great it felt every single day to be with each other and young and alive. We showered together, dressed together - he'd lean on my shoulder and I'd help him pull on his underwear and pants, even though he didn't really need it - and then all day long I'd go with him, dropping him off at his class before heading over to mine, and picking him up again when it was over. Sometimes if I had a free hour I'd even sit in class with him; the profs didn't seem to mind.
Then came wrestling practice, and I missed being able to scrimmage with him so badly as he sat on the sidelines and listened to the coaches and watched us go through our drills. I probably looked over fifty times each day to catch his eye and share a smile so he'd know he was still very much on my mind and still a part of the team. I couldn't wait till he was back on the mat and our bodies were locked up together, sweating and straining. To us - to all wrestlers - it's a need and a hunger every bit as intense as the desire to fuck, an essential part of our lives.
At night, in bed, I did everything I could to ease that frustration and put all his pent-up energy to good use. We grappled with each other, clenching and squeezing for all we were worth, attacked each other with lips mashed together and bludgeoning tongues, devoured each other ravenously. I locked my arms around his thighs and dove on his cock, jamming it mercilessly down my throat again and again, humming blissfully as he gripped my hair roughly with both hands and flexed his hips back and forth to fuck my mouth with long powerful strokes. Grunted with animal pleasure as he wrapped his arms around me and slammed and plowed into my ass from behind until he gushed a huge hot load deep inside me.
Being there for Carter, every minute of every day, had become the most important thing in my life. I wasn't wrestling for my school anymore, or for my mentor, or even for myself. I was wrestling for my brother.
Jase understood how I felt. He drilled me harder than ever before, pushed me to dig deep for every last ounce of my strength. Our sessions became rougher, harder, more intense. While Kyle took Carter through an upper body workout on the weights, Jase and I clashed like wild beasts. Our cocks were rigid from the minute we stepped onto the mat. He'd set up the drill and at the word "Go!" we'd tie into each other, bare muscles straining against each other, sweat-slick bodies mashing and grinding together. By the end of our drills I was exhausted, my cock dripping and aching for release.
And then Jase would grab the olive oil and the two of us would have our playtime. No matter how beat down and fatigued I was, when I rubbed that oil onto Jase's broad, insanely muscled back, when I felt him smearing it over my ass cheeks and slipping a finger down my crack to tease my anxious hole, somehow I'd find the energy to go on. We squared off grinning; one of us would lunge in on a shot and soon we were rolling on the mat together, our smooth naked bodies slippery with organic lube, squirming out of each other's grasp and clutching madly at each other. Grabbing wrists and ankles, knees, elbows, crotches, ass cheeks and hard cocks, clasping arms around each other and squirming free again. Eventually he always got the better of me but it was well worth it; it was my fucking dream. I loved feeling that stud's strong hands all over my body, everywhere, grasping and slipping and testing and finally taking control.
Once he had me down and helpless I was his to do with as he pleased. He was my mentor and I eagerly soaked up every lesson he taught me, whether he was giving me a lecture on strategy, demonstrating his superior skills in real time on the mat, or driving his hard, thick cock into my more than willing hole. He didn't always choose to be on top but it was always his choice to make, and most often I ended a session on all fours engulfed from behind by Jase's muscled body, his strong arms clasped around my ribs, the scruff of his rugged jaw grating on my shoulder blade, his hot breath in my ear as his stiff massive cock plunged into me and pushed in ever deeper. I never felt so much like a man as when his thick meat filled me, stretched me to the limit, and fucked me until we both blew out our loads and collapsed together.
Sex and wrestling had become completely intertwined in my life. I could no longer think of one without the other. At Duncan's place or on campus at team practice, every drill or scrimmage was an intensely sexual experience. On the mat with Jase or in bed with Carter, we fucked as if we were wrestling for a world title.
It's the way it was in our family. Wrestling and sex; there was no separation. Embracing them both as one and the same made us stronger, liberated us to reach our full potential, gave us an advantage no one else could touch. As for our coaches, they may not have completely understood but they sure weren't going to argue with success.
Jase reached over and rubbed my neck as he drove me home from Duncan's one night.
"You're doing well," he told me.
"I'm learning. You've helped me improve my skills so much."
"I don't mean just the wrestling. I mean everything. You and Carter."
"Carter's my brother. I never really understood what that word meant before. It's so much more than I ever knew. I'd do anything for him. I'd die for him."
Jase smiled, leaned over and kissed me sweetly on the lips. "You know, the greatest warriors have always had lovers they fought with side by side. Achilles, Cleomachus, Alexander the Great. In Thebes, the core of the army was a battalion of three hundred men, a hundred fifty pairs of lovers who fought together. Even in Word War Two, guys would buddy up and devote themselves to each other. From then on you weren't fighting because of Hitler and America any more, you were fighting for your buddy. That's the way you and Carter are. That's the way it is with Kyle and me. The word 'buddy' comes from 'brother'. "
I nodded. I was so lucky to have Jase as my mentor. He understood everything. He knew just how I felt. When he told me things like that it gave my whole life a bigger meaning, a greater purpose. I hung on every word.
"You're really becoming a man," he said.
"It's all thanks to you. And thanks to Carter."
"But you're still my boy. You always will be."
"Always."
Jase smiled at me, reached over and rubbed my neck again.
"You're doing well."
When the week was done Carter was off the crutches but still wore a knee brace. It would be another week before they'd let him go back to full practice again. We were both ecstatic; he wouldn't be running wind sprints anytime soon but at least he was back on his own two feet. I was still extra careful not to do anything that would stress his knee but Carter walked with a spring in his step like he'd just been released from prison.
In bed he was a new man. With the sprain all but healed and no wrestling to burn off his energy and now with his newfound freedom, he was on me every night like a wildcat. I couldn't have been happier. The minute we crawled into bed together he was rubbing his bare muscle against mine, making out with me hungrily, kissing and nibbling and licking my ears, the soft parts of my neck, the sensitive spot just above my collarbone. My whole body was his to probe and explore and ravage to his heart's content; I couldn't have stopped him if I tried, and I surely didn't want to.
He gnawed on my nipple, one hand squeezing and fondling my pecs while the other jerked my cock; a sudden shift and he slid my meat into his mouth, gripped my balls with one hand and pulled down until a finger could reach around and dig into my hole while his free hand stroked and caressed my abs; a few furious moments later and he was riding me, grinding down desperately on my cock, taking my full shaft all the way into his ass and massaging it with his eager sphincter. He came in a flood that drenched my chest and abs with splatters of hot thick cream, running down the deep grooves of my abs to soak the bedsheets. He bent in to kiss me, still squeezing my cock with his hole, and I wrapped my arms around him and gave him my tongue and my cum in a shuddering rush of passion.
For a long, long time we held each other, completely satisfied, relishing the way our bodies meshed perfectly together. Then slowly we untangled, licked each other dutifully clean, and climbed into the upper bunk together for a good night's sleep.
It was the middle of the week and Jase and I were through with our drills and having our playtime again, our naked bodies slick with olive oil, facing off against each other on the mat in Duncan's basement. Kyle and Carter had already finished their weight training and sat down at the edge of the mat to watch, Kyle with the bottle of oil lightly massaging Carter's shoulders and smearing it over his back, oily fingers smoothing over his tight muscles, searching all the contours of his body and finally settling around his rigid cock.
With those two for an audience I was even more fired up than usual. I grinned at Jase, sizing up his glistening muscles and watching closely for an opening as we circled each other. He launched forward gunning for a freight train double but I read it in his eyes, saw it coming a mile off and spun away. Before he could reset I went for a high crotch on an immediate re-shot, latched onto his thigh right next to his ball sack and tried to maintain a firm grip - quads and hamstring flexing and rippling in my hand in a way that gave me chills - but Jase wriggled loose, leaving me with a handful of sweat and oil on my palm that I quickly licked clean for better traction.
He moved in and hooked the back of my head for a tie up. I reached out to complete the tie but he lifted my arm and attempted a duck-under. By reflex I leaned in and whipped my elbow down trying to trap his arm - a page from Kyle's playbook that I'd learned thanks to Carter - but once again he slipped free, his thick oily arm sliding out from under mine with a carnal slurping sound; feinted and then attacked and completed his maneuver. In seconds Jase had me wrapped up from behind, his arms locked down across my chest, sweaty muscular pecs pressed to my back, hard cock jammed against my ass crack.
"I've seen that trick before," he hissed into my ear. "Somebody's been training behind my back!"
Jase easily took me down to the mat on all fours but I wasn't beaten yet. My body was every bit as slick as his. I burst out of his grip on a switch move and spiraled into a half-Nelson series, executed the flip and before he knew it I'd turned him on his back, mashed my chest against his and forced his shoulders perilously close to the mat. It only lasted an instant until he squirmed loose and regained control - not even long enough for two near-fall points - but in that instant, for the first time ever, I'd put him in danger of being pinned. Kyle and Carter whooped and howled from the sidelines, and the sight of Jase's surprised and suddenly panicked eyes was forever seared in my head.
From there I didn't stand much of a chance; Jase rebounded with new intensity and a shitload of primal fury. My cheering section yelled their lungs out for me but it wasn't long before Jase had me broken down flat, all 174 pounds of his naked muscle squashing down on me, his legs intertwined immobilizing mine, his forearm mashing my face into the mat. I had to concede defeat but we both knew the moral victory was mine.
"You're wrestling like a big man now," he crooned into my ear. "Let's see if you can take a big man's cock."
I growled my eagerness back to him and soon felt his stiff meat pushing against my hole. He'd already grasped both my wrists and now he stretched my arms out wide, bearing down against my shoulder blades with his chest, gnawing on the back of my neck as he flexed his hips and probed with his cock head to find his way in. I spread my legs wide and rocked my hips back to meet him, relaxed myself as much as I could to allow easy entry to that thick rigid shank.
He plunged in hard, rammed his whole cock into me with one powerful thrust and began pumping my ass with long driving strokes. This was my reward for stepping up my wrestling skills, and I took every banging thrust in the spirit it was given. My own cock was rock solid, dripping and aching for release as Jase's nonstop pounding mashed it into the spongy foam of the mat again and again and again. I grunted loudly on each hammering downstroke, not so much from exertion or pain but from the pure animal savagery of our relentless, unbridled fucking. I loved the feeling of being owned by my mentor, being nailed long and hard, taking on the full brunt of his raging passion and begging him for more. His massive cock ravaged me, demolished my insides, stretched my hole until I thought he'd split me in two and still I couldn't get enough. I needed that bull stud to work me with every last ounce of his awesome strength.
From the sidelines I heard Carter let out a whimper. I glanced over and from the corner of my eye saw him bucking joyfully on his own mentor's swollen meat, Kyle holding him from behind with burly arms clamped tight across his chest. My whole body tingled with excitement at seeing my brother take his share of raw thumping cock, and knowing he was seeing me as well.
Jase yelped frantically as he banged me faster and faster with quick desperate strokes. He let out a loud yell and unleashed his hot cream into me in one long final thrust, squashing me down on the mat even harder and clenching his arms around me. I couldn't hold out any longer; I erupted with a staggering load, pouring out my eager cum in spurt after spurt of hot thick syrup that flooded onto the mat and washed over my abs. My tortured hole spasmed with each throbbing twitch of my cock, massaging and milking Jase's meat as he oozed the last of his full load into me.
For long minutes he lay on top of me, nearly motionless, completely spent, our deep even breathing blended together as if we were one. The weight of his body felt wonderful; I could have stayed beneath him contentedly for hours. Finally he stirred, kissed my cheek and rolled gently off of me. Jase wobbled to his feet, offered Kyle a hand and pulled him up and the two of them lumbered off to the shower while Carter and I headed to the closet for the mop and towels to swab the mat clean.
Back at home, we lay together in the bottom bunk, holding each other and kissing all the tender spots of each other's sore bodies. Carter gave me a long look.
"Are we gay?" he suddenly asked me, out of the blue.
Up to that moment, I hadn't even thought about it in those terms.
"I don't know," I told him. "Do you think we are?"
"Well, we have sex and... it's been the best sex I've ever had in my life. Nothing else has even come close."
"We love each other. We're true brothers. That's all that matters."
"I know. But... what about Kyle and Jase?"
"They're our mentors. They're training us to be men."
He frowned. "Gay men?"
"Just men. The ancient Greeks didn't even have a word for gay. You love a woman, or you love a man. There's no difference."
"But... if it wasn't for me, would you want to be with a girl? Or another guy?"
"I don't want to be with anyone but you. Ever."
He wrapped his arms tight around me and buried his face in my shoulder.
"I feel the same. I only want you."
"Then what does it matter?" I asked him.
"It doesn't. You're my brother. That's more than enough."
Carter kissed my breastbone and then each of my nipples in turn, before moving slowly farther south to soothe my battered and still-burning hole.
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