WRESTLING AND EVERYTHING ELSE

By Ript Jock

Published on Oct 16, 2022

Gay

It was a Tuesday night. Carter and I were lounging on my bunk in our workout shorts watching Brady and Willis roll around naked together on our makeshift mat. Nothing like a little raw muscle and sweat to cap off the night after a long, hard study session. Ostensibly those two were in training and we were mentoring them, and yeah we did throw in a comment or two whenever we felt it was needed, but mostly they were just having some fun and we were enjoying the show. In other words, an ordinary Tuesday... until that knock at the door.

"Come on in," Carter called out, without even a moment's pause. Anybody who'd come banging on our door at that time of night already knew what went on inside - and if they didn't, it was high time they got an education. And hell, the boys sure weren't the least bit shy about it.

The door swung open a crack and somebody poked his head in and froze stiff. It took a second for my brain to click in. It was Noah Baumer, my old Indiana buddy.

"Oh, sorry -- I didn't mean to -- " he stammered.

I grinned. "Noah! Don't worry about it, man! Get your skinny ass in here!"

He stepped into the room and closed the door carefully behind him, still looking embarrassed as hell about walking in on us. I couldn't see why; I mean, he and his brother Dave had been to Duncan's with Carter and me, and we'd hooked up at last year's Midlands too... but not this year's. I ran into him once there and he barely said a word. I figured he was just focusing on his matches, but now he seemed just as distracted and withdrawn as before. Even though he'd driven nearly three hours to get here.

Carter stepped up and played the good host. He made the introductions, explained to Willis and Brady how Jase's mentor Pete had been hired as a coach at Indiana and started his own branch of the family there. The boys were in awe. They welcomed him like a brand new brother but Noah wasn't feeling too social.

"Look, I'm really sorry for busting in on you guys but I didn't know where else to go. I don't even know what the fuck I'm doing, but..." homing in on me, "can we talk?"

"Sure," I said. "Always. We're your family. You can tell us anything."

"I mean just you and me."

I shot a glance over to Carter. "Yeah, we can go someplace..."

"No, you guys stay here," my brother said. "The boys have been at it long enough. We'll go back to their place and I'll hang out there a while." Brady and Willis had been rooming together since the beginning of the new semester; it made things a whole lot more convenient, both for them and for us.

I nodded thanks to Carter and he herded the boys into their clothes and out the door. Noah gave them polite thanks and good-byes but it still didn't seem like he was quite all there.

"So...?" I prompted, once we were alone. He looked back at me like he had no idea what to say. The poor guy looked as lost as anybody I'd ever seen, and for a Big Ten wrestler that's not good. I slid off the bunk and stepped over to him. "Get rid of that shirt," I told him.

He did as I asked without even thinking, shed his winter coat and then peeled his shirt off and tossed them aside. For a moment we looked each other over. His training sure hadn't slacked off. His body was still on point, gorgeously sculpted, pecs and abs that any guy would kill for, quarter-sized nipples poking out of his flawlessly smooth skin. I wrapped him up in my arms and held him tight and he gave me back the same, hanging onto me like his life depended on it.

Noah was just my height and we wrestled the same weight class, 165. Our bodies matched up perfectly. It felt so damn good to hold him, to feel our muscles, our leanness and our strength, in perfect balance with each other. We must have stood like that without even moving for two minutes or more, just enjoying our shared body heat and the feeling of one another, his eyes shut tight, his cheek pressed flush against mine. His breath was catching in his throat now and then, almost like he'd been crying. I stroked his head and kissed his neck and he loosened his grip on me and backed off just slightly, looking me in the eye.

"You ready to talk?" I asked him.

"Yeah."

Without another word he pulled his shoes off and slowly started undoing his belt. I took the hint and dropped my shorts. In seconds the two of us were naked. We hugged again, briefly, and then I led him to my bunk and we sat on the edge side by side.

If you ever want to talk to somebody, I mean really heart to heart with no bullshit to get between you, bare ass naked is the only way. Stripped down to your skins with nothing to hide, you can finally put everything else aside and show each other who you truly are. You can trust each other on a level that you just can't ever get to with clothes on.

I draped my arm around Noah's shoulders and pulled him close. He just sat there quiet for a moment. There was no rush on my side. This had to happen in his time, not mine.

"I dunno where the fuck I'm going," he finally said. "I dunno what this is all about, what I'm supposed to do. Where's the fuckin' plan?"

I had no idea what he meant but I sure wasn't dumb enough to ask. He'd tell me or he wouldn't, and questioning him about it like a dipshit wouldn't help. Instead, I massaged his shoulders and rubbed his back, and whispered to him, "Just relax, bro, I'm here for you," and he nodded and shut his eyes and tried his best to calm down.

"It's about wrestling," he told me when his breathing had leveled out. "I mean, of course it is. Everything's about wrestling, right? >From the time I was five years old. It's been my whole life."

I smiled. "Yeah, they start us young, don't they? But let's face it, if you're gonna be any good at it, that's what you have to do. There's no room for anything else."

"For what though? What's the point? I wrestle for Indiana, not fucking Iowa. I'm a junior, I've got this season and then one more, and I'm done. Forever. It's not like I'm gonna win a damn championship. I'm never gonna make Team USA. I've been training all my life for something that's just gonna end when I'm twenty-three years old, and what then? I don't even know how to do anything else."

"Have you talked it over with Dave?"

"Fuck." He flopped down on the mattress on his back and lay there quiet. It was time for me to shut up again. I looked over his muscular body -- damn, the guy was beautiful -- and gently stroked his pecs and abs, staying well clear of his limp cock out of respect. At first he seemed indifferent but gradually he warmed up and adjusted his breathing, flexing his body with the motion of my hand. He looked up and met my eyes with a calm, even stare.

"It's not something I can talk to Dave about. He's too close... we're too close to work it out. I needed to talk to somebody who wasn't so personally involved, but it had to be somebody who'd understand, who'd know what I was talking about. And that led me to you."

I eased down beside him, propped on one elbow, still lightly stroking his abs. "You can tell me anything. It'll stay between us. I'll help any way I can."

"I know."

Damn, his smooth skin felt incredible against my palm, and my cock was sure taking notice. I'd had a good semi from the moment we first hugged each other and now it was fully stiff. There was no sense trying to hide it; we both knew it was nothing to be ashamed of. He just smiled, reached over and took it in his hand and started stroking, slow and casual like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"It just feels like I have no future," he said. "It feels like it's already over. When I first came to campus it was so fucking great, I became Pete's boy, and he trained me and loved me and taught me about everything. And then he put me with Dave, and we were both his boys together, and it was all so goddamn special. But where did it go?"

I thought it over. "Yeah, I know what you mean. Jase doesn't have near as much time for me now as he used to. But he's coaching, he needs to think about every guy on the team. And I've got my own boy to mentor. Jase is still there for me whenever I really need him. Isn't that the way it is with Pete?"

"I guess."

As we talked we were slowly maneuvering until we were stretched out lengthwise on the mattress with our heads side by side on the pillow. I snuggled up close and latched onto his triceps, feeling and testing his muscles, and Noah let go of my cock and began clutching and squeezing my traps and delts. You can't expect two wrestlers to be next to each other for long without getting a grip on each other. It's just what we do.

"I know I don't need Pete as much as I used to," he said. "That's fine, that isn't what this is about. And last year I got Aiden to mentor, but now already he doesn't need me like he did at first. And next year, what? He gets his own boy, and where does that leave me? My senior year, I'll be useless. And then I graduate, and no more wrestling, ever. What the fuck? What did I go through all this for?"

I couldn't answer right away because I just couldn't resist getting a taste of that ripe left nipple. I had him pinned down on his back with an arm across his rib cage gripping his right lat, my forehead pressed to his left pec as I sucked and licked and gnawed. Noah's cock had long since entered the game; I could feel it good and hard against my quad when I slipped my leg in between his.

"But that's what the family's here for," I told him, when I came up for air. "Isn't it?"

"I don't know. I thought so, but I'm not sure anymore."

"Look at Duncan," I told him. "He finished college, went international for a while, but that was done ten years ago. His competing days are over, but now he's got us. And we've all got each other. You're part of that too."

He shrugged. "Maybe it's different for you guys. The family here is what, four or five generations deep? But for me it's just Pete and Dave and Aiden, and Dave's boy Troy. That's all. I don't really have any sense that it'll keep going after I graduate. And anyway I don't see myself sticking around Bloomington. As far as I know, I'll walk out the door and be on my own again."

"Dave wouldn't leave you. Would he?"

Noah just shrugged again.

As we talked, my hand had been roaming from his traps to his lats, down the double treetrunk of his spinal erectors, and finally to his glutes, medius and maximus. His ass was flat out incredible, second to none. As lean and solid as a goddamn pot roast, shaved good and silky smooth all the way down his crack. Insanely rounded, with nice deep indentations on the flanks that gave him the look of a genuine Greek god and made for a perfect grip. I loved squeezing those cheeks, feeling how fucking powerful and resilient they were; from the first day we got together they were looming large in my mind whenever I heard his name. I massaged and kneaded them, my fingers slipping easily down into that tight warm crevice of flesh. His hole puckered and his entire body twitched as I brushed against it and lightly prodded.

My eyes locked in on his. "Are you in love with Dave?"

"Yes. Of course." He fondled my balls, rolling them in his hand.

"With Pete?"

"Yes." He wrapped his fingers around my meat and stroked heartily.

"Aiden?"

"Oh, fuck yes!" Noah buried his face in my shoulder. He kissed my neck, gnawed on my traps, licked that tender spot just above my collarbone. He was panting hard, grinding his stiff cock against my leg and clasping my fingers between his cheeks. "I love those guys so fucking much, I'm just afraid they're all gonna go away."

I wrapped both my arms around him and held him as tight as I could, clamped down hard on his ribs until he could barely draw a breath.

"Nobody's going anywhere without you," I told him. "Those guys love you back just as much. They're on your side -- and so am I. You're my brother, along with Carter, Brady, Willis, all the guys here. We're all your brothers. Forever."

Noah quivered in my arms. He mashed up against me like he wanted to climb right into my skin. I just kept on holding him tight, my legs intertwined with his, until my arms were about ready to cramp. I knew by sheer instinct it was just what he needed.

I told you before about how emotional wrestlers can get, between the nonstop training and cutting weight and the competition schedule. This had probably been building up in Noah for weeks. With your body and your psyche pushed to the limit every fucking day, you can go full-on into meltdown mode if somebody just looks at you wrong. It doesn't take much to set you off when you live your whole life on the ragged edge.

But luckily, we can be fixed just as easily as we're broken. Our training takes care of that too. We're programmed to reset at the ref's command; all we need is the right whistle to put us back on track.

"Tell me what you need and it's yours," I said.

Noah looked up at me with watery eyes. "I need your cock inside me right fucking now."

Easy enough, like I said. And this was a perfect example of why I always keep the jar of Vaseline within reach. I stretched my arm back over my head and plucked it off the shelf, gave my buddy a sweet kiss as I flipped the cap off and greased my hard cock, then slipped my fingers between his cheeks and into his hole.

Noah was done talking; he'd said everything he needed to. Now he just needed to trust that we'd be able to make things better. I gently prodded him onto his side and wrapped my arms around him, playing the big spoon; grabbed his cock with my greasy hand as I rubbed my stiff meat along his crack. He was rigid with anticipation in no time. I was pretty damn excited myself, feeling the way those incredible ass cheeks flexed and twitched and clamped together.

I leaned in with my pecs to his shoulder blades and kissed his neck and his shoulder, teasing his nipples with my free hand, and Noah raised his leg to let me in. I loved to fuck that way; it was so goddamn romantic. He turned his head to me and we kissed, and I stroked his meat and held him close as my cock head pressed to his hole and slipped easily in.

Both of us were nearly breathless as my shaft slid into him as deep as it could go, and I began pumping him slow and sure. It had been a long time since I'd been inside him. The strength of his body, that muscled ass, gripped and massaged my shaft like no one else ever had. I made out with him all the more eagerly and held him tight and jacked him. Noah attacked my tongue with his, grabbed my hands and stroked his cock and teased his chest along with me, our fingers intertwined. For such a hardcore stud wrestler he played the little spoon so well; I held him and fucked him and owned him, and he wriggled and squirmed and took my cock and eagerly begged for more.

And maybe this is just the dumbshit wrestler in me talking, but I have no idea why more guys don't shave. Smooth skin against smooth skin, solid muscle against solid muscle, feels better than anything on earth. Lights up your whole nervous system like a Christmas tree, at each and every point of contact. I mean, what's the point of being naked if it's gonna feel like you're wearing a sweater?

I knew what Noah needed was a long slow fuck, and I sure wasn't about to disappoint him. For once this was all about his pleasure, not mine. I worked his body the best I knew how, giving his cock a powerful downstroke as I pushed my meat into him deep, pinching his nipple for an extra boost as I reached the limit. Letting my hand glide up to tease his cock head as I dragged my meat back out and then jamming down hard as I plunged back in again.

All the while, we were making out nonstop, joined at the lips and tongues sharing spit and soulful feelings as our bodies slowly mashed and lurched together. God, it felt so fucking comfortable, bringing each other along so slow and steady toward that eventual finish, neither of us in a hurry but making sure we squeezed the last ounce of pleasure out of every grinding stroke. I felt like I could fuck him for days and days. My balls were getting so full they ached and I knew his must be the same; when we finally blew, it would come spurting out of us like a pair of firehoses.

Noah started letting out little whimpers each time I shoved my cock into him. It drove me so fucking wild; there's nothing more erotic than hearing a big powerful muscle stud whimper for you. I began plowing in harder, wanting to make him cry out louder. My cock was so stiff and so ready to blow it hurt, and before long every one of his little yelps brought a desperate grunt from deep in my gut. We were both near the breaking point, on needles and pins from head to toe, wanting so badly to cum but driven to keep on fucking and fucking.

"God damn it!" Noah yelled out. "Bang me! Breed me! Nail my fucking ass!"

He rolled over onto his knees and elbows, that perfect ass high in the air. It was all the invitation I needed. I mounted him and started pounding away; any plan I might have had was crowded out of my head by animal instinct. Noah yelped and howled and I railed him good and strong, slamming my hips into his ass cheeks, the sound of flesh smacking on sweaty flesh nearly as loud as our grunts and moans. I underhooked him and clutched him tight, mashing my pecs and abs to his back, digging into the mattress with my toes and fucking and fucking with no restraint.

Noah shuddered and tensed, and then jolted hard as his cock exploded, unleashing a gush of hot cream that splattered thick and viscid onto the sheets. His sphincter clenched and spasmed on my shaft, pulling and kneading until it squeezed the juice right out of me. A hot wave washed over my body and I cut loose with a huge spurt that flooded into his guts, and then another, and more, and more. The two of us bucked and jerked together, loving the way our muscles meshed and grappled and clasped together. We drained our fluids for each other, our cum and sweat and musk; collapsed onto soaking wet sheets and locked our arms around each other, kissed and clenched and finally just lay there quiet, spent and breathing.

"Holy fuck," he said, when he could gather the strength to speak.

"I know. Feel better now?"

Noah grinned. "Yeah. But it still doesn't solve quite everything. Once next season's done..."

"Noah... look man, we're wrestlers. We live to wrestle and fuck and wrestle and fuck. It's a hunger, it's the same for every one of us. For now we have the family, and if we stick close together we'll have each other the rest of our lives. But wherever you and Dave end up, there'll be other wrestlers... guys who competed in high school, college... thousands of em, and every one of em just as hungry as we are. So, get yourself a mat. Set up a wrestling room, like Duncan did. You'll never have to go without a match. I promise."

"You're right. It'll work itself out." He snuggled against my shoulder.

"So, what else? Any more problems to solve?"

"Well, I think I'm okay for now, but there's still my senior year. I'm a little worried about my motivation."

I laughed, and gave him a squeeze. "Well, that's easy. You need to work on growing that Indiana program. Next fall, as soon as you get back to campus, take a look at that fresh crop of redshirts and pick yourself out a brand new boy."


Well, I guess it just goes to show you there aren't many personal crises a good hard fuck won't cure. I hope you guys enjoyed this one, I thought it was time we checked in on one of our old friends. We have a lot of wrestling ahead of us this season... and a lot of everything else too... the guys are sure gonna have their hands full by the time it's done. So, stay tuned!

And guys, as usual, I'll remind you that this website offers a lot of good times and doesn't ask for much in return. So please, after you blow a nice hot load consider making a donation, so my family of wrestlers and all the other smoking hot stories will always have a home!

Next: Chapter 47


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