"We have reason to believe that man first walked upright to free his hands for masturbation."

Wednesday, June 5, 2013

All Male Fiction: Matman's Meat

By: jockcock4jockass
 
 

I wrestled in high school, and I have no idea how many times I wrestled with a hard-on - dozens of times! I wanted to wrestle in college, but I didn't make the team. Instead, I became an avid fan. I'd come to watch practice. I came to all the matches. I cheered for the home team, and for my favorite stud.

I went ape over Steve when I first laid eyes on him. I was eighteen, and a freshman. He twenty, and a junior. He was also a damned good wrestler, and handsome as sin - muscles in all the right places, which he proved he knew how to use, and, always a girl hanging on his every move.

I watched Steve intently during practice, and during games. I yearned to bury my face in his crotch and his cock in my throat. I also yearned to bury my cock in his tight, hard ass.

When Steve won, I was always the first one up and cheering – and he began to notice. By mid-season he seemed to pause and take me in before he took his stance on the mat for a match. One day he smiled at me before he did that. He locked eyes with me when he won.

The next day during practice, he came over to my spot in the bleachers and made small talk while stretching his back and legs. That pushed his crotch damned close to my face, and without even realizing I was doing it, I reached down and groped my own crotch, and then he was off and running back to practice.

I dawdled around the locker room a couple of days later. It was after another match, and I hung around while the guys showered, especially around Steve.

I happened to be in the right place for him to say to me, as he paused at the exit, "Want to go get something to eat, Chris?"

Hell yes, I wanted to get something to eat. It was long, and I wanted to eat it hard. I wanted to suck out every drop of protein inside that powerful spear. I wanted to lick all the funky stuff out of its head. I wanted to smell the foliage that graced its base. But all I did was accept. "Sure, Steve, I'm kind of hungry. Great match. You were fantastic, as usual."

"Thanks."

It was all small talk as we walked off campus toward one of the hangouts, about classes, the team and its chances of making the playoffs, and my sadness at not making the team.

"I wish I'd known at the beginning of the year that you wanted to be on the team. We could have worked out together, and maybe gotten you an edge for next year."

"I didn't know you then, and I was so devastated that I kind of hid for a while afterward."

"I can understand that. It's a shame. I'd have enjoyed working out with you. You really like to wrestle?"

"Oh fuck yeah."

"I know you're our most avid fan. I think you've been to every match, and half the practices."

"Didn't know you noticed, Steve, but yeah, I've been to them all. I especially enjoy your matches."

"I like having a special fan. I noticed you today, especially at the end of the match. Looked like it excited you."

I blushed. I let it pass.

"We could still work out, you know."

"I think I've been away too long to get good enough to make next year's team."

"We could try. And even if you don't, you would be wrestling and working out with at least one wrestler."

"Yeah, it'd be fun to work out with you."

We found a remote table and ordered. Once the waitress had gone, Steve went on. "Tell me what was special about today's match."

"The guy you wrestled looked like a powerhouse. But you took him like his Master. You're as good as I've ever seen. It's exciting to watch you pin your opponents."

He whispered, "Yeah, Chris, but I've never seen any other fans stroke their basket around me before. I did see that, didn't I? Does that mean what I think it means?"

How the hell was I supposed to answer that? I wanted to just be with Steve, not verbalize my fantasies. I felt my face go hot with embarrassment again. And I evaded his questions. "I guess I was daydreaming or something. I don't remember."

"I don't believe you, Chris. I've watched you watching the matches, and you only watch me, even when I'm not on the mat, and you looked aroused. And I'm flattered."

Our food came, and I was spared the need to respond or talk for a few moments.

Once we'd swallowed several bites of burger, Steve went on. "I said I was flattered, Chris. I'm trying to tell you that I like having you by the mat. My jock covers up a lot, but if I hadn't been wearing it today, I think you would have seen my hard-on. It had something to do with the guy I was wrestling. It had even more to do with the guy I was wrestling for... you."

I gulped down a bite of burger and stuttered, "Uh, I uh, I don't know what to say."

"I'll tell you what to say. Say you'll come back to my room and talk when we finish our food. Say you'll let nature take its course. I've wanted to be alone with you for weeks. How about it? Willing to be alone with a big dumb wrestler, come what may?"

I never got a chance to answer. We were interrupted by four guys from the team, and in no time it was a team thing and I was odd man out. Steve looked helpless to get away from his friends without appearing odd, and so, though propositioned by the hottest wrestler on the team, I still went home alone and jerked off.

When I woke the next morning, I was so horny thinking about Steve and what could have happened if his teammates hadn't shown up. I needed more than just my hand, so I went to the best glory hole I could find, shoved my cock into the first mouth that was available, and pumped it full of cum. I have no idea who it was; just that he could suck, even if not well.

Why couldn't I just go find Steve, grab his hand and say, "Remember what you asked me yesterday? Let's go right now." But I couldn't. I was timid, shy, scared, all of it.

But back at practice Steve's smile said it all. He had meant it. It was going to happen. He came over again, did his little stretching number again, and, when no one was looking, pressed his crotch right into my face, and rubbed his jock-covered cock right over my lips!

I watched, rooted for him in matches. Saw him pin a particularly sexy guy that afternoon, and found my cock so hard from imagining Steve's cock pressed into that stud's ass. I waited around for him afterward to congratulate him.

"Meet me in the mat room, Chris. We've got unfinished business." And he went to the final team celebration.

I watched, but drifted away to change to my own workout clothes before the guys were done.

I was working out on the weights when Steve came in.

"Hi Chris, fancy meeting you here," Steve said, and then very obviously showed me the key, closed and locked the door, and laid the key on the floor.

I sat up as he came over. He hadn't showered. He was still in his wresting signet, and all sweaty.

Steve knelt down next to my weight bench, reached to my face, and pulled me to him for our first kiss. He drove his tongue into me, and I took him and gave back. He pulled me off the weight bench, still locked in a hard, man-to-man kiss, and right down on top of him on the mat.

When the kiss ended, he looked up at me and smiled. "It's the only key. Take off your clothes! I can't wait to be naked with you."

I quickly stripped as I watched him slip off his signet, and then I lunged at him, planting my lips on his, as my hand groped the hard cup of his jockstrap while my mind thought about what was imprisoned behind it.

He was kissing me back, but his hands were not feeling me up. They were on my shoulders, the pressure in his hands leading me to where he wanted my mouth to really be. And I went willingly.

Once my eyes were in line with that jockstrap, I reached inside the waistband and pulled the cup out, brought it to my face, inhaled for a moment, and then dropped it to the floor. Immediately my face went to his crotch and I inhaled some more. My cock felt like it was on fire smelling his manly scent.

Grabbing the pouch, I pulled his jockstrap to the side revealing the prize I had finally won and started licking the sweat off the cock I had fantasized about so often.

With one final lick down the underside of his shaft, I then inhaled it until I had taken him up to the short hairs and began to massage his heavy ball-sac.

"Oh, fuck, yeah, Chris that's it, deep-throat it… oh, yeah, come on, suck on it man!"

Before I could start my sucking motion, he started to pull his cock out and then ground it back into my throat, face fucking me.

I found his ass cheeks and began to squeeze them. I was in heaven. The man of my dreams was pounding my face with his big, sweaty, wrestler cock!
 
After a good long suck, Steve dropped down to the mat and pulled me down on top of him. Wet with sweat, our two bodies slid and squished together as we kissed, and I managed to wrestle him over on to his stomach so that I was on top of him from behind now. Pressing my hard cock into the crack of his ass, I began to dry-hump him, figuring that was as far as it would go.

He surprised the hell out of me when he responded to my humping with, "Fuck me, Chris. Shove that cock up my ass and fuck me."

"Oh fuck, I can't think of anything I'd love to do more, but I don't have any lube."

He stretched out his arm and reached for his discarded socks and produced a tube of K-Y. "Always prepared, isn't that what the marines say? I've been planning this," he grinned over his shoulder at me. He was so damned gorgeous!

Grinning back, I grabbed the tube of lube from his hand and said, "How do you want it, on your back or on your stomach?"

"If a wrestler's gonna lose anything, it's on his back!" he grinned as he flipped over. "Grease that cock up, Chris, and give it to me."

I squeezed a dollop of lube on my cock and smeared it around, and then I pushed his legs back toward his chest to open his hole and put some lube to his ass, working a finger inside. He groaned, and once I had managed to get a second and then a third finger in him, he began to relax and loosen as I rotated my fingers in his hole.

Once he was lubed and ready, I got myself up against him, ready to fuck, and said, "You ready to open that hot ass and take some cock?"

Before he could answer, I pushed against his hole and popped the head in, and then just eased all my weight on my cock and ground and shoved and pushed until I was all the way to the hilt in his tight ass.

God, he was tight - hot and tight. I could see the pain in his face. Whatever the pain, he clearly wanted the fuck because he said not a word and instead held his legs higher against his chest, offering me full access, so I began to punch his ass up with little short jabs.

"Oh fuck, your hole feels so good! Such a hot ass!" I moaned.

"Uhhh, your cock feels good, too! Give it to me, yeah, yeah. Fuck. Shove that cock up there, hard, yeah!"

If he wanted it hard, I was only too happy to oblige, so I pulled out and slammed in, long, all the way, hard, and he let out a loud scream, but it was a scream of pleasure. "Take it! Take my cock!"

I plowed him, long-dicked, power-fucked him. I withdrew to the head and slammed the whole length back in. I pinched his tits, and then slid my cock into his hole in short hard bursts.

He bucked up to meet me and took everything I could dish out, and then some. He was hot, and I soon began to feel the cum boiling in my balls. "I'm nearly there. I'm going to blast, man! Fill your ass full of cum. Get ready."

"Shoot it! Give me your load. Fill my hole! I want all you got!"

And then I was shooting, and the spasming of my cock sent Steve's bursting, and he shot a great blast right into my chest, and then it fell back on his. I slowed, and then stopped and relaxed down on top of him as my cock emptied. He pulled me down to his lips and kissed me.

I remained Steve's biggest fan, and until the day he graduated we always 'wrestled' privately together in the mat room after every one of his practices or matches.

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