Going Down for the Count

The three hunky bruisers, bodies slick with sweat, stood, arms raised in victory, in the center of the ring. A cheer went up from the crowd at the packed VFW hall that early November night in 1990 . The smell of beer and smoke hung heavy in the air.

Rick and I were slumming it for the night, enjoying the homoerotic entertainment that passed for a cultural event in South Jersey. All around us, straight men, and overweight women cheered or booed the boys who did battle.

Of course, me and Rick were also checking out the baskets of the gladiators and were sporting semi-hard ons for most of the night. I kept the over sized program on my lap to avoid any unwanted attention, while my partner in crime kept shifting in his chair.

The match we had just watched was a classic squash job; a fight between two men that had turned into a handicapped affair when the "bad guy" had two of his buddies join him in the ring, much to the ref's chagrin, so that they could beat the hell out of the jobber. Of course I was reminded of the old days, and Chris ... wrestling had been almost foreplay for the two of us -- I, in turn, had introduced Rick to the same thing, and he was as big a fan as I had ever been.

Next up was a tag-team match. Four guys facing off against each other. The first team was called, "Double Trouble", two dark haired guys in black trunks and boots, they both saluted the crowd by flipping the bird. Their opponents were a couple of 'faces' (good looking, younger men) who smiled broadly when coming into the ring - they were outfitted in red and white and blue, snug tights that accented their bubble butts. The crowd went crazy for them.

They were giving me an ache in the crotch.

Of course the bad guys got the upper hand, and they made mince meat of the golden boys. By the end of the match, the men in the patriotic tights were secured to the ropes and suffered a barrage of kicks to the chest and groin by their opponents. The only thing missing was for Double Trouble to double fuck the losers ... ah, but this was a family affair. Husbands, wives, kids ... all American white-trash entertainment at it's best...and it made as horny as all get out.

-----

During the ride home Rick kept talking about the night's events. He said at one point, "Know what I dig the most? It's the not so subtle subtext of the whole thing. I mean those guys are fighting for top man, that's what it is." He stretched in the passenger seat next to me, his hard on obvious through his jeans, "Been awhile since we grappled, want to go a few rounds?"

"High stakes?" I asked feeling my cock swell in anticipation.

"Yeah, well, you know I'm gonna' kick your ass this time."

"Bring it on punk", I said reaching for his crotch.

---

Later on that same night, in the spare empty bedroom. Only a couple of mats on the floor. I waited on him. I was wearing the old pair of black lace up boots Chris had given me years ago. I also had on a black pair of tights, my hard cock laying flat against the front.

I couldn't wait to wrestle him.

He bounded through the door to the room in snug white briefs, and high white boots. His cock also at full attention, the head of it peeking out from the tights until he adjusted it. Rick catches me checking him out; he flexes. His time at the gym has paid off. He looks fucking great. The only light comes from a small lamp on a table by the shaded window. It causes red and yellow stripes to fall on everything.

I can't wait to hurt him.

We charge each other, and I am shocked to find myself in a side headlock. He grinds at my head with his arm and calls me a fucker, I reach for his leg and trip him down to the mat where we struggle.

He still has me in the headlock as he spits in my face.

Then he brings his arm around my neck, choking me, while he pulls my left leg back. I can feel his hard on rubbing against my ass as he tells me that he's going to fuck me silly.

I am in the hold for only a second more when I manage to push him off me. I roll over to the side of the mat, and then jump to my feet, lunge for him, pull him up by his hair, and then turn him around and get him into a chickenwing, pinning and twisting his arm behind his back. He yells out in pain, so I twist his arm even harder and tell him that I'm going to snap it off. Once more he screams out in pain. I let him go and he falls to the mat. I kick him in the side once and tell him to get up.

We are facing each other now, in a half stance, he is staring me down, his face a mask of grim determination. He is so wiry and athletic - like a flash he flies at me, getting me in a reverse bear-hug. His arms, like a steel vice, wrap around my chest and he lifts me up off the ground. Then he drops me and jumps on top of me, he hits me with a right hook and I fall on to my back, he straddles me now, schoolboy pin style, and then rams his crotch down into my face, then he slides back until we our crotch to crotch. He lifts his hips up and then slams into me, once, twice, three times until finally he manages to slam into my balls. This time I let out a howl and he laughs...

It only takes a second, and I break the hold and reach up for his neck, choking him and bringing him down. I let go of his neck and hold him down with one arm across his chest and give his tits a savage going over. I pull and yank until they are red, and then I sit back up and bring my fist down across his face.

I get up off of him, he stays on the mat, breathing heavily, I reach down and yank him up by his hair and put him in a full nelson and then slam him up against the wall and start dry humping his ass and I yell out, "Fucking bitch! Like it?"

Before he can answer, I slam him back to the mat, and bring a boot down on his midsection. He let's out a grunt. Then I grab his hair and head, and get behind him twisting his head and neck, we are both bathed in sweat now, and I keep twisting him, taunting him while doing it. I call him a punk bitch. And the whole time I notice that he still has his hard on. I've trained him well.

Eventually I break the hold and he falls to the mat. I bring a boot down on his chest and stand above him flexing in a victory pose...

...there is nothing now, no prep, I just tear at his tights and take them off, and then I toss mine aside and I mount him quickly and start fucking him. I am so hard now and so insane with lust for my little tough guy that I pretty much just plow him - in my mind's eye I see the three bruisers from earlier tonight, their hot bodies dripping sweat as they abused the opponent ... I flash onto the basket of the muscular bear as he pinned the champ ... I see the biceps bulging of the Double Trouble dudes as they taunted their opponents ... I see Rick in white, his cock head pushing through the top of his wrestling trunks...and then I come back, my cock rammed deep into Rick's tight, tight ass. He is saying my name over and over and yelling, "Harder, champ! Hurt me!" Then I close my eyes again as a wave of pleasure engulfs me and as I feel his asshole seem to clamp even tighter around my member as the cum starts flowing . I bite him on the shoulder as I orgasm and he says "Oh Christ". And finally I collapse on top of him.

Still sweat drenched, I pull out of him and say, "Come and get some, you earned it, buddy", and I get down on all four.

Then he is in me, and I feel his magnificent cock stretching me open, and I say, "Come on stud, give it to me!" And that's all he needs, and soon, he's banging me, slapping my ass and cursing up a blue streak.

And while he's fucking me, my cock starts to get hard again.

When he cums, he groans a long deep growl and I feel his scum shoot into me.

---

When we are done, I am still laying on the floor as Rick is back in this tights standing over me. His ass looks so great in those trunks from my point of view, his face so beautiful... He puts his hand out and says, "Come on, Hulkster, time to hit the showers." His voice all subtle bemusement.

I get up and join him and drape my arm around his shoulder and say, "Great match, you're getting good"

"I learned from the best", he said.

We kiss once in the hallway and then make our way to the bathroom. We are both brusied, sore, and so damn in love that we end up fucking again in the shower.