This is the final of 4 installments in my New Year original homoerotic wrestling fiction. Or is it?…
(Continued from Part 3)
Okay, remember all that shit talk I told you earlier about humiliating Drake in our one-on-one private bout a year ago? This wasn’t the same Drake Marcos. He was honest-to-god crushing my windpipe, backing me into a corner. So much rage! I’m pretty sure if this was the Drake Marcos I’d faced a year ago, I’d have been lucky to have escaped without a trip to the emergency room. My ears were starting to buzz from the lack of oxygen, and fuck it all if I wasn’t nursing the hardest erection of my lifetime!
Suddenly I was sucking down ragged, gulping breaths with my windpipe cleared. I dropped to my knees, clutching my throat, momentarily not knowing what the fuck just happened. The mat bounced and shimmied beneath my knees as I heard pounding blows punctuating the buzzing in my ears. Blinking rapidly, clearing the tears from my eyes, I saw bodies flying in front of me. Check that, once the fog cleared, it was Drake’s body that was flying in front of me.
Clearly, Trey had taken advantage of his opponent’s distraction. Scooped up in the golden boy’s arms, Drake’s feet arced high through the air as he was slammed with authority to his back. I pulled myself up to my feet with the aid of the ring ropes, but my eyes were locked on watching Trey viciously pry Drake up by a handful of hair, scoop him up in his arms again, and body slam him back to the mat violently. Drake’s lower back arched high off the mat in agony until Trey’s naked heel stomped hard into the Cheshire Cat’s lower abdomen, driving his hips back to the mat with a thud.
I admit to more than a little satisfaction watching Trey straddle the Cheshire Cat and angrily yank the singlet straps off his opponent’s shoulders. With one swift jerk, he ripped the singlet completely off Drake’s legs. Left in nothing but a sweat soaked leopard print thong, Drake tried to roll away as Trey pursued him across the ring. Snagging the back of the thong and yanking hard, he pulled Drake up to his hands and knees just long enough to land a swinging place kick to the balls from behind. Drake gasped, falling to his right shoulder, both hands clutching his balls
Trey took just a few seconds of deep, recuperative breaths before reaching down and dragging Drake up to his knees again by a handful of hair. From behind, the golden boy snapped on a full nelson and dragged his prey to his feet with authority. With his chin shoved into his upper chest, Drake dangled like meat on the hook as Trey walked him across the ring to where Kid Leopard was filming at ringside. “Ooo, leopard print thong?” Trey cooed through his syrupy Southern drawl. “What’s The Boss going to say when you’re crying like a little bitch in his signature leopard print thong?”
Drake growled like a wounded animal, which earned him a quick trip to the nearest turnbuckle for three nasty revenge face plants. Trey released the full nelson and spun Drake around. Locking his arms around him, the golden boy hoisted the Cheshire Cat off his feet in a spine tingling bearhug. Drake screamed, pulling his knees up to squeeze into his captor’s kidneys in a futile attempt to lessen the pressure.
I watched from the corner for a few seconds before deciding it was time to look like a ref again. Following my aching cock, I strolled over to where Trey was squeezing the stuffing out of Drake and asked if the Cheshire Cat had had enough. “Fuck you,” Drake snarled, but it was so much less than convincing this time. He was fading dangerously.
Finally, lubricated with copious sweat, Drake slid downward in the bearhug. Before he could catch his breath, however, he was shoved backward into the ropes. He sagged there, gasping for air, fighting to stay on his feet, which provided the perfect set up for Trey to snap the middle rope over top of Drake’s arms and pin him there like a stuck bug.
Kid Leopard climbed up to the ring apron to get a better angle on his handsome protege all trussed up and vulnerable. Trey shrugged his own sculpted shoulders out of his singlet straps and pulled the yellow fabric down his shredded torso, glistening with sweat. “Like what you see?” he asked, startling me out my reverie, staring at the stunningly sexy tableau set before me. “Fuck, yes,” I said with a chuckle, hovering just a couple feet away to watch with fascination.
Trey stepped forward, prying Drake’s knees apart with legs and shoving the handsome stud’s head backward by his chin. Leaning over him, Trey shook his head, sending a shower of sweat raining down on Drake’s captured face. The Cheshire Cat squirmed, attempting to pry his arms free. But he suddenly went limp when his opponent traced his index finger down Drake’s throat, between his lightly hairy pecs, slowly, meanderingly down his taut abdomen, and inside the pouch of his sweat soaked thong. Drake groaned with reluctant pleasure, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.
Gently, Trey tugged Drake’s balls and swollen cock out. His cock bobbed eagerly, almost fully erect and quickly getting topped off by Trey’s hand jerking him still harder. Trey looked at me sidewise. With a subtle jerk of his head, he invited me closer. Me on one side, Kid Leopard and his camera on the other, Trey grabbed my wrist with his free hand while continuing to stroke Drake’s pulsing rod. The golden boy pulled me still closer, pressing the palm of my hand against his own rock hard left pec. He flexed, sending a charge of electricity up my arm. Slowly, he dragged my hand across his sweaty torso, down his rippling abs. Firmly, he pressed my palm against his growing package. “Hoh, fuck…” I managed to mutter with every ounce of coherence I had left.
“Help me out of this,” Trey whispered, licking his lips. I swallowed hard. My heart pounded in my chest so hard I could hear it. I knelt at his side and pulled the singlet down his long, smooth legs. He wore nothing underneath, so his massive cock spilled out gleefully and bounced as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, stepping out of the singlet.
As I rose to my feet, Trey dropped to one knee, sliding the leopard print thong off of Drake’s hairy thighs. He pried open Drake’s jaw and shoved the tiny patch of dripping wet fabric into the Cheshire Cat’s mouth. “Here,” Trey pulled me in front of him guiding my hands to take his place working Drake’s throbbing tool. The golden boy’s right hand on my wrist guided me as I jerked his vulnerable opponent. Drake’s sweaty, naked body shivered in front of me, his eyes half lidded, staring at me with some combustible mix of bitter rage and desperate lust. Trey pressed his naked body close behind me.
Even as I cupped Drake’s balls with my left hand, I felt the golden boy unzip my trousers from behind and tug free my full erection. His left hand wrapped around my side, pulling me hard against the distracting pressure at the base of my spine. His right hand began tugging at my cock, working in time to the same rhythm with which I was pounding out Drake. I slowed down. The golden boy slowed down. I sped up, he sped up. I could feel his hot breath in my ear, leaning over my shoulder, watching his naked opponent writhing with rising ecstasy. I sped up. Trey sped up, and both Drake and I moaned at the same pitch. I slowed down, squeezing harder. Trey slowed down, squeezing harder, and Drake and I both gasped. Enfolded in the arms of one wrestling infatuation, the white hot cock of another pulsing in my hand, I came. Drake came.
The smell of cum and sweat was intoxicating as Trey held me tight, squeezing out every last drop. I suddenly sucked in a deep, gasping draw of air. I don’t know how long I’d been holding my breath, but my heart was pounding and my lungs were burning. There was a sweet tenderness about him as Trey slowly released me. Another sly wink made me smile. Then Trey unceremoniously freed Drake’s arms and yanked on the rope, catapulting the Cheshire Cat sprawling into the middle of the ring. I had to laugh out loud.
The glistening, naked, bronzed golden boy took a slow lap around his opponent. Hands on his narrow hips, Trey studied Drake’s naked ass long and hard before finally straddling the Cheshire Cat and dropping to his knees. Leaning forward on his left elbow, he slipped his right forearm across his opponent’s throat and rolled to his back, pulling Drake on top of him. Drake’s heavily lidded eyes snapped open wide in shock. The leopard print thong still filled his gaping mouth. Trey’s smooth legs wrapped around Drake’s hips, his ankles locked together tightly across the Cheshire Cat’s lower abdomen. Slowly, Trey stretched his body, pulling down on Drake’s hips with his legs and up against his throat with the chokehold.
Drake’s exhausted cock sprang back to life, bobbing and jerking as Trey bore down on him. His face turned blotchy pale, starved for oxygen, consciousness slipping away. Trey’s baby blues smiled up at me, letting me know it was time to do my job as ref again. I knelt on one knee next to Drake, absentmindedly stroking my own reanimated cock still hanging from my unzipped trousers. “What do you say, Drake?” Drake’s throat constricted, struggling to swallow. “I don’t think you’re going to be able to say it, big D,” I whispered into his ear. Again, his throat constricted, struggling to swallow. Finally, his right hand tapped frantically at Trey’s right knee.
Trey threw his opponent rolling off of him. We both climbed to our feet. Facing Kid Leopard and his camera, I hoisted the golden boy’s wrist into the air in victory. I was awarded with a full body, naked golden boy hug, before Trey turned back into the crowd pleaser he is by flexing his phenomenal physique with one foot planted on the Cheshire Cat’s ass.
“And… cut,” Kid Leopard shouted, dropping the camera and looking down at his slowly rousing protege with contempt. Shaking his head, he gave Drake a halfhearted kick in the ass before leaving the ring without so much as another word.
“Really, pleasure to meet you, Bard,” said this stunning, ripped naked man who moments earlier jerked me to one of the dizziest climaxes I’ve ever experienced. Suddenly self-conscious and star struck all over again, I stumbled over my reply. “I’m… uh… pleasure has clearly been all mine.” He gathered up his yellow singlet and climbed out of the ring. I watched his picture perfect ass every second as he strode toward the back rooms to clean up.
“You… mother… fucker!” I was abruptly shaken out of my reverie by Drake’s raging rant. “You just fucked with the wrong wrestltler.”
(….to be continued?….)
One particular author to whom I gave an advanced copy of this story quickly, and somewhat adamantly insisted that he would write the “sequel.” I’m looking forward to what happens next for a particular blogger and a notorious jobber. Again, Happy New Year, everyone!