Wrestled Out

From: Ian James

Picture: Michael Kirwan

Published in: Torso, April 1997

Pinned and pricked

_____


I'm the only person left they can make fun of on television: a blond, white male. Look in the dictionary under *WASP* and you'll see my name. My life has been just about what you probably think. Smooth sailing, except for one little hitch, the fact that I was born gay. Even that was really just a little bump in the road, but I thought my life was over when recent events forced me out of the closet.

Knowing how well things always went for me, you've got to believe it when I tell you I didn't realize I was in trouble until the shit was just about waist deep. I mean, I never dreamed things like that happened to real people.

It all started on the wrestling mats. Wrestling is made for people like me. Its combination of strength and strategy, hemmed in by lots of rules and regulations, doesn't leave much room for emotional outbursts. The other reason I like it is because I'm good at it; damn good.

Franco, a senior in my weight class, was having a hard time with the closed-up nature of wrestling. It was his last season of college wrestling, his last chance at a regional trophy, and the guy hadn't been able to pin me yet. He'd tried, and was still trying late one night; we were the last ones in the wrestling room. He had me in a half-nelson, but I was on my stomach and he couldn't complete the roll-over.

Part of the problem was he always got mad. The guy wore his feelings on the outside, and he was pissed off. "Son of a bitch," he panted in my ear, "you're gonna lose this one."

"Oh, yeah?" I replied coolly. "Just like I lost all the others?" I was trying to push his buttons, hoping he would make his move before he was really set. It worked--he went to the left to try and peel me off the mat before his hands were in place. I was ready and bucked against him. I scrambled to the right and almost got away. But his big thigh slid between my legs, pinning one of them as he squirmed back on top.

That's when I felt the unmistakable impression of a hard-on against my ass. It was the first time Franco, the "Italian Stallion" as he so originally liked to think of himself, got me to break my wrestling concentration. I actually lifted my ass against the pressure and heat I could feel through our shorts. Since I wasn't ready to declare myself a gay man, I always wore a cup in case something like that happened to me. His cock felt huge. I rubbed my ass in a circle and felt it roll under the pressure.

"The white milk, apple pie guy likes big cocks, huh?" I froze. "We wondered about that." He started humping my ass with a slow, heavy pressure, working until his cock lay along the crack of my ass. I could feel what could only be a big set of balls against my anus. I didn't wonder about that *we*. Later, I was going to wish I had.

All I could think about was that cock. You've got to realize I'd been without since I'd started at school. I'd hoped I'd be able to make discreet contact when I came to college, but I had not. It was harder than I thought. Small colleges are a lot like small towns. I was so horny I didn't even care that it was Franco's cock.

I only know that my own cock got hard fast. Franco held me down and continued to hump at my butt until I was returning the movement with a twisting, surging roll. I was trying to make as much contact as possible. I didn't even realize he had taken his hands from my shoulders until I felt one of them worm its way between us, rip down my shorts, and snake between my widespread thighs.

He crushed my nuts, stopping just before the pain became truly excruciating. "I like guys to suck my cock," he said after I was frozen in place, quivering and still hard as a rock. He was hurting me with one hand and stroking and rubbing my hard-on with the other. "I really think I'm gonna like having your pretty face stuffed with my meat." He was cruel, holding my nuts tight, humiliating me, while stripping off his shorts. I tried to tell him he didn't have to hold me, that I wouldn't go anywhere, but he cut me off with a nasty laugh, and squeezed tight. "I like things just like they are." His cock jumped out at me, huge, knobby, with big dark veins circling it. I could see it throb and twitch with his pulse. I'll be damned if he didn't drag me awkwardly over to a pile of his stuff at the side of the mat and pull a condom out of his jacket. He covered his cock with the latex and then, still holding my aching nuts, had me lay down under him. Without warning, he gripped my swollen orbs tighter. I opened my mouth to yell and he shoved his big fat cock into me. He didn't stop until he was all the way in grunting hard when he felt my face against his crotch.

The sweaty, musky aroma of his crotch was enough to get me high. The determined way he fucked my mouth and throat made my own cock throb. I sucked, taking ragged breaths whenever his swollen tool gave me a chance and then driving right back down his pulsing length. For the first time in my life, I was taken over by forces beyond my control: fear and lust. I had to have more. He was forcing me down his length as hard as he was shoving it in.

I was choking and gagging on that huge cock. Sharp prickles of heat dotted my body every time my throat muscles convulsed around him. My own prick was getting hotter and tighter with every thrust of his. He was slapping it, squeezing it, telling me what a good little cock-sucker I was.

Sucking his cock was my whole world. Making him cum in my throat so I could feel him needing it as much as I did became everything. I'd never imagined needing anything so bad in my life. He didn't give it to me. He ripped his prick from my mouth and, squeezing viciously, reminded me that he had everything under control. I was squealing like a girl as he manhandled me. Begging him to stop, I told him I'd do anything if he'd only let go. "You'll do anything anyway." I almost passed out from the pressure that went with that statement. "I like having you like this. I like having the coach's big star by the balls." His big heavy hand descended on my ass. "C'mon, let me hear you beg." I begged him to stop, I pleaded for him to let me go. But, through it all, I never lost my hard-on.

I couldn't help it! I was more turned on than I'd ever been in my life. I was consumed by the need to please him. I know it's absurd, but all I could think about was how good his cock had felt in my mouth. I even knew what was coming next and I wanted it. I knew I'd never be the same after this. I couldn't believe how good it felt to let it all hang out. He was going to fuck me and I wanted it. More than that, I needed it. My horniness made my hole quiver as he aimed his cock at me.

He drove that monster into me and I cried at the hurt. I broke down, squealed and screamed and tried to get away while he tore into my asshole. He ruthlessly used me, reaching up with his mouth and clamping on my shoulders with his teeth. I froze at the sharp pain that flowed down my back. He wanted me to feel it all and I did: I felt my ass opening under his assault. I felt the pain turn to heat. I felt my insides kind of melt over his iron-hard prod. I felt it all the way into my guts. My own cock was so hard I could feel it up against my belly. It felt like he was fucking me to death.

Both of us were grunting, me with the effort of his fucking. Every time he bottomed out, he flattened me to the mat and my cock rubbed the vinyl, swimming in its own juices. My ass was gobbling his ramming rod with every lunge. I was flat, wide open and begging for it, urging him to fuck me harder, getting off on the feel of his huge organ opening the channel of my ass. It hurt bad and felt great every time he slid over my gland, sending hot, electric sparks the length of my cock.

I couldn't help myself and came hard, feeling my cock flex and shoot out a hot, hurting load. When my ass clamped down, he buried himself and then it was his turn. I milked that giant cock while I came. It felt like it was coiling and spitting while he emptied a huge load into the tip of the condom deep in my bowels.

He roughly pulled out of my clinging flesh, picked up his gear and left, turning out the lights when he went through the door. I couldn't believe what had happened. I lay there for awhile, cataloging my aches and pains, and remembering what had caused each and every one. And shit, before I realized it my cock was hard again and I lay right there in the dark and jacked off at the memory of my first fuck. I was blown away by the whole thing. If that's what it meant to be gay, I was damn glad I was.

Until I got the photos. They were grainy, black-and-white photos. As bad as they were, you could see the raw emotions on my face, the fear, lust and wonder. The note that came with them said it all, with poor grammar and worse spelling. Unless I threw the qualifying match, the pictures were going to the student paper. It wasn't signed, but I knew it had to be Franco. It was then that I remembered that *we*. I wondered who else was in on it.

It took me two days of agonized soul searching before I decided exactly what I was going to do. I cut classes and went home and talked to my parents. They were shocked at my confession about being gay, but handled it well. I didn't give them all the gritty details, but told them I was being blackmailed to take a dive. My father had passed on his driven, Type-A personality to me. I needed to win so I wasn't going to cooperate with Franco. They didn't come right out and say it, but I got the impression they were proud of my solution.

I also didn't tell them my whole plan. That fucking had done more to me than I could ever tell them. I knew I wasn't going back to being an uptight WASP again. I wasn't going to give up the down and dirty intensity of that kind of sex. Hell, I knew I needed that as much as I'd ever needed anything.

I won every match I wrestled. Franco went down early in the eliminating bouts. As I pinned his shoulders to the mat he seethed, "You're gonna pay. The whole fuckin' campus is going to know you're a fag." He spat the word out.

It was easy to follow him home. He lived in a small apartment in a seedy neighborhood. I sat in my car and watched him go into his place. Unfamiliar but not unwelcome feelings floated in the pit of my stomach. I could still feel how his body had felt struggling against me for all he was worth, straining, twisting, squirming and flexing against my strength, but in the end, bending to my will when I pinned his big shoulders to the sweat-slicked mat. I already had a hard-on.

I forced my way into his grungy apartment when he finally answered my pounding at the door. It wasn't the type of building where anybody came to see what all the noise about. Surprise counts for a lot and I used it for all I was worth. I had him on the floor before he even realized who I was.

I threw down the next day's edition of the campus newspaper on the floor where Franco could see it. The editor had been more than accommodating when I gave her my story. There I was under the headline, *WRESTLING CHAMP OUTS HIMSELF*. I had given them the whole story except who was doing the blackmailing. Franco tried to fight. Even without rules he still wasn't a match for me. Then he tried to cry his way out of it when I reached between us and got his jeans undone, started to pull them down.

"I don't do that. C'mon, man. I've never ..." he said as he tried to roll away from me.

"Never what?" I had him in a hammerlock. "Never taken it up the ass?" I applied some pressure and he moaned. He was as frightened as I had been the other night. I was getting off on the power I had over his futile struggling. "Well, you're taking it; and Franco, let me tell you, payback is sweet."

"Let me suck it, man." There was a note of desperation in his voice. "I'll suck it for you." His voice went to the upper register as I got him right where I wanted him--by the balls.

I suited up and then worked his face over with meaty slaps of my heavy cock. I was getting higher and higher. This was good stuff. Milking his big nuts, forcing him to open wide and shoving it all the way down. Pulses of overwhelming lust and power surged through me every time my nuts came up against his chin. My cock started growing and just kept getting harder with every butt-clenching thrust.

He was choking, gagging, trying to tell me to go easy. There was no easy in this boy. I wanted him to feel the reluctant desire I'd gone through over the last week. I reached for the gym bag I'd thrown on the couch. I lifted the camera high and took several pictures. I wanted to get his face stuffed with my meat. His lips stretched wide around my bloated tool. He was sucking me enthusiastically, wanting to get my cum. This was the hottest sex I'd ever had. Just as my cock flexed for the first spasms of orgasm there was more pounding at the door.

"Hey, Franco," a voice came through the thin panels. "Are you all right, man? It's Rico. C'mon, let me in." A light bulb went off. Rico was on the wrestling team, a couple of weight classes down from Franco and me. He must have been the photographer.

"Get rid of him," I snarled, mad to have lost my climax. I had Franco by the hair and the nuts. Rico didn't want to go. In fact, Rico wanted to come in and, "... you know, man, I don't care if you lost, I'm still your buddy. I still," his voice dropped, "want to suck it, man." Another light bulb went off. Franco was as gay as I was.

"Asshole! What the fuck is wrong with you?" I tore into him after Rico finally left. "How could a gay guy like you blackmail me like that?" I wasn't holding him anymore. He was sitting on the couch, his head down his body shaking with sobs.

"I don't know," he looked up at me, his dark eyes liquid with tears. "It was my last year, and I just had to win." His mouth looked bruised from my face-fucking. "I lost it, man. I'm sorry. I just fucking lost it."

I was still pissed off. "So, asshole, you used what you feared the most, didn't you?" His eyes came up and stopped when they came to the level of my still-hard, throbbing cock. "You figured I'd be just as scared as you, didn't you?" I advanced, he shrank into the couch. "What would the world think about the Italian Stallion being a fag?" I put the same dirty feeling into the word he had earlier. He cringed like I had hit him.

We grappled, struggling, back and forth across the room. I slammed him against the wall. Our bodies strained against each other. Our cocks were pressed fulllength-1 could feel his throbbing.

"What do you want, man?" I ground my meat into him.

"Make me do it," he choked out.

"What? Make you do *what*?"

"Everything." He tried to shove me away. I dug in and let him push but held him against the wall. "Make me do it."

I shifted my weight and pinned him with my body. I slid one hand behind his head and held his head and kissed him--*hard*. When he sagged against me I stepped back and, using the hand on his neck, forced him back across the room. We stopped when his thighs hit the back of the couch. He fought me but I bent him over. I held his face in the back of the couch while I rummaged in my bag for another condom.

When I pressed the broad head of my cock against his cringing asshole he squealed. When I shoved it in he almost got away. But my strength was up. My blood was flowing hot and heavy. Every time he squirmed and tried to twist away while I slid my muscle deep into his bowels I got a little higher. The heat and pressure of his ass on my cock was like nothing I'd ever felt.

I fucked him hard. I used his ass for my pleasure. He begged me to go easy; he panted and hissed as I threw myself against his hard, muscled cheeks. His asshole was on fire and I had the hose to put it out. Before I was done he was begging for me to hurt him, begging for me to make all the pain go away.

I pulled his full globes as far apart as they would go so I could see my cock savage his ass. Watching my bloated organ pull his anus out, and stretch it on the way back in one continuous motion, was sexy as hell. I couldn't resist going for his balls again. I squeezed and made him squeeze my throbbing cock back. I planted myself deep and made him work his sorry ass on me. I kept it up as my orgasm built. My cock was buzzing, twisting, flexing with the undeniable urge to unload.

I came with my hips locked against his squirming, clenching ass. I held his hips and cock convulsed as it unloaded scalding bullets of thick, heavy scum. The hair on my arms stood up as tingling rushes swept my torso. The power of my orgasm was unbelievable.

I left him hanging over the back of the couch like a dirty towel. I was still pissed off. I still had to deal with Rico and with coming out. But what I was really looking forward to working out was Franco's tight hole. He wound up giving it to me whenever I felt like it all through college.