Date: Mon, 23 Mar 2015 08:37:37 -0400
From: Ron Nelson <nelson99@comporium.net>
Subject: Wrestler's Story - 5  Foxhole Wrestlers

WRESTLER'S STORY-5    "FOXHOLE WRESTLERS"

By: Ron Nelson

(© 2015 By The Author.  All rights reserved)


Tim Logan felt like he was choking to death as he throated the sergeant's
big thick wet cock stabbed deep down into his mouth. To make it harder
on him, the sergeant's wet, naked, muddy and muscular body was lying heavily on
top of his own wet, naked, muddy and muscular body as they lay locked together
in the nighttime darkness of the muddy foxhole.  Tim was in his fourteenth week
of extended Infantry basic, at Fort Shane, Georgia, not far from the great
Okefenokee Swamp in the southern part of the state.

Then it got still worse for him as he also felt the sergeant's tight figure-four
head scissors on him, the sarge's powerfully thick muscular thighs wrapped tightly
around his head so that he couldn't hear or see anything.

And then it got even worse from there when the sergeant seized his own big, hard
eight-inch rod in his strong calloused hand and began to crush and push it down
between his his legs into the mud beneath them, almost breaking it clear off his
body. He loved the whole thing, and hoped it would never end.

Tim was in the last couple of weeks of advanced infantry basic training. He had
run up against Sergeant Luchara halfway through his earlier basic training. The
sergeant headed up the personal combat part of basic, and he was as good as they
came. He was only about five-eight, but weighed a rock hard one-eighty, was into
body building in his off hours, and looked like he could take down, or beat up,
any man he met.  He was so strong and fast, to say nothing of being pretty good
looking too, the men soon began to refer to him as "Panther Man."

He was also real good natured, showed respect for the officers above him, and
could be real tender if any of the recruits was really having a temporary
problem adjusting to the military and basic.

But in the field, on a training mission, Sergeant Luchara could be ruthless. The
men loved him.

Tim and the sergeant had spotted each other early on. Both were about the same
size, except that Tim, despite being a star player on his high school football
team and a varsity wrestler as well, were still in totally different leagues
physically. Of course, the Sarge was probably about twenty-eight or so, with
a lot more years of intense physical training, while Tim was barely twenty
and just coming into his full strength. But still.

During one-on-one combat training exercises in earlier basic, Tim had volunteered
to be the "victim," which was the only way the men would put it when the sergeant
asked one of them to step up to be worked over by him in their various take-down
and disarming drills. He was "taken down" and "disarmed" before he even knew it.


Then the exercise was repeated in reverse. But once again he was put down hard.
It was hot in July during the exercises, and they were wearing no more than
training shorts, and their muscular bodies were wet with sweat.

That time, when the sergeant came down on top of him, Tim nevertheless had the
presence of mind, from his wrestling workouts, to try to get a grapevine leg
hold on the sergeant to keep him in place on top of him. In addition, he grabbed
one of the sergeant's big pecs as well, which was pushing down right on top of
his face, to squeeze it and push him off.

The sergeant looked surprised, grinned, and kept his body press on Tim even
while he was also enduring Tim's thick thigh pressing hard into his crotch
against his cock and balls, just about crushing them, while one of his thick
pecs was being squeezed in Tim's tight hold on it.

Tim recalled that he thought to himself at that time, `Yeah, this feels good,
for sure,' and I don't mind how long the sergeant holds me down.' He knew, by
the sergeant's delay in breaking the hold on top of him, he wasn't having any
problem with the hold and suffering his own punishment by Tim either.

Over the following weeks and in other one-on-one training sessions, not too
frequently so as not to be too conspicuous about it, Sergeant Luchara and Tim
took each other on a number of other times as well.

In combat training exercises with the sergeant Tim was always glad to be the
"enemy." And in the base gym, where he liked to work out in off hours and he and
the sergeant were there at the same time, the sergeant on his body building
workouts and Tim just working off some of his spare energy, they soon got to
messing around with each other on the mats there too.

A couple of times, on weekends when no one else was around, and with their
wrestling around some more, Tim could tell, by his own feelings and what he was
feeling with the sergeant, the sergeant was liking it just as much.

As they wrestled back and forth, give and take, it wasn't long before both got
powerfully big boners, which then became additional targets for each other, and
it soon got to be a question of which could give or take the most punishment on
his big cock and balls too.

They might have gone all the way and been forced the shoot their loads the last
time they wrestled, knowing that's what both wanted, but a couple of other
soldiers came in to work out just at the point so Tim and the sergeant had to
cut it off for the present. But both knew there'd be another time when they
would finish the job with each other.


Now Fox Company was in its fourteenth week of advanced basic. The men were out
in the field for the full week doing day and night training. It had rained most
of the day, but had cleared in the late afternoon. Today's training assignment was
to take and hold an area of ground overnight against "infiltrators" who might come
in from any side, in the dark, and "attack" them. They would have to repulse the
infiltrators and then secure the area. The area itself was partially wooded,
with a lot of underbrush, which made it almost impossible to see anything more
than three or four feet away.

Tim had been assigned a shallow foxhole, with his closest squad buddies in
similar foxholes about six or eight feet away, so that they'd cover the area
pretty tightly. It would be the problem of the infiltrators to make their way
into the area stealthily, silently "kill" the defenders, and then make their
way back out again without being caught.

Tim and the other members of his squad and platoon were told not to fire their
rifles and give away their positions. Instead, they were to use their personal
combat skills, no holds barred, anything goes, as they'd been taught in their
personal combat classes. Silently, "kill or be killed." As the night was still
warm and they were in a training exercise, they were allowed to strip down to
just their brief shorts for the night.  Other than that, they'd be naked to
fight whatever might come up.

After the exercise was over, the next morning, they'd be able to sleep in a
couple of hours later to make up for being kept awake the previous night.
Following that, the company captain would conduct a review of everything they
did right, and whatever they might have done wrong.

It all seemed very reasonable to Tim.


It was just shortly before midnight, and Tim was alert to what was happening
around him. Except nothing seemed to be happening. Nothing to be seen, and
nothing to be heard.

It had been a full day and he knew he was getting sleepy, but he was determined
to stay awake, knowing that was all part of the training exercise. The night
hadn't cooled off much from the daytime heat, and the men were allowed to remain
stripped down to the shorts just so long as they kept their rifles next to them.

He must have dozed off slightly anyway.

Next thing he knew was this powerfully muscular "killer," all strength and
power, or at least that's what it seemed like to Tim, suddenly came out from
the undergrowth behind him, leaped on top of him and knocked him flat on his
back in the mud at the bottom of the foxhole.

He then felt this "killer's" knee come crushing down on his cock and balls,
which had almost instantly become aroused in the attack and were already rock
hard.  At the same time one of man's hands reached for one of his naked and
exposed pecs to crush it in his fist to hold him down in the mud, while the
other than went for his throat to choke him to a fast and silent death.

Tim, no slouch normally and even less so with all the personal combat training
he'd received, reacted fast and instinctively. Ignoring the pressure he was
taking by this sudden attack on his crotch, he nevertheless brought his own foot
up and jammed it into his attacker's groin to push him off and punish him the
same way back.

Then, bringing one of his hands and arms back behind his head to give him more
leverage, he shot his other arm and fist up hard, either to seize his attacker's
arm if he were holding a knife to stab him with, or punch him in the face as
hard as he could to fight him off.

He quickly realized, however, his attacker didn't have a knife, what with one
of his attacker's hands having seized his pec and the other hand going for his
throat.

Tim's upward punch therefore landed hard against his attacker's solid chest
and thickly muscled pec while his attacker moved just as quickly to the side
to avoid being punched in the face.

There was very little light to see by, but Tim quickly knew who his attacker
was, and was real pleased.  It was "Panther-man," Sergeant Luchara, of course,
who knew exactly what he was doing when he "attacked" Tim.

For a second or two, they remained locked in their immediate position, the
sergeant coming down hard on Tim, and Tim coming back just as hard back at the
sergeant.  As they looked at each other in the dim light, both could see the
the small grin on the other's face.

Still, the sergeant had the advantage of surprise, strength and experience.
As soon as he saw Tim had collected himself on being attacked, "Panther Man"
shifted his body around to improve his position on top of Tim, but which
also gave Tim a chance to find an opening to get back at the sergeant.
The sarge didn't really make his moves as tight as he could, of course, but
just enough to give Tim a hard time, which he knew Tim would be receptive to.

A flurry of movement followed as Tim and the sergeant wrestled and fought
silently in the mud in the dark foxhole, neither uttering a sound except for
their grunts when they were hit or crushed by the other, or caused the other
to be hit or crushed in return.  Soon, both of them were almost completely
covered with the mud in the bottom of the wet foxhole.

Soon Tim found his chance to get back at the sergeant by reaching out
and grabbing his crotch, where he found, not to his surprise, the sergeant's
big tool, well over an inch thick and at least nine inches long, sticking
sticking straght out through the front of  his shorts, which was the only
thing he was wearing too.  It was as hard as a shaft of steel, and an
excellent target for Tim's now crushing and bending hold on it.

Which the sergeant returned by taking the same hold on Tim's now equally
equally rock hard rod jutting out straight from his own body.

It was just like the cockfight they almost got into all the way back in the
gym earlier, except now they were alone, in the dark, and could finish the
job with each other, one way or another.

Tim then found, as they struggled back and forth in the mud and in the dark,
that he was able to get his whole foot also positioned into the sergeant's
hunky crotch on top of which.  So he let got of his hand hold on the sarge's
big rod,replaced it by his foot, and then shot his leg up, both jamming his
foot hard into the sergeant's crotch, crushing his cock and balls against the
sole of his foot, and pushed the sergeant up into the air above him.

But then, with the slipperiness of the mud,the sergeant began to slide off
Tim's foot, but not before Tim was able to toss him off to the top and side
of the foxhole, from where the sergeant couldn't help but slide down, head
first, into the bottom of the foxhole.

As the sarge slid down Tim quickly moved to the side, let the sarge slide
all the way to the bottom, his back now in the mud, while Tim quickly then
jumped on top of Panther Man to suddenly reverse their positions.

And then from there, before the sergeant could recover, Tim managed to twist
around and ge a full body press on him to keep him down even tighter.

Then, from there, to add to it, just as he had learned from the sergeant
earlier in their personal combat training sessions, he jammed his knee into
the sergeant's groin to crush his cock and balls while his hands found the
sergeant's big pec and throat as targets for his hands. It was the exact
reverse of the sergeant's holds on him just a couple of minutes ago.

`Yeah,' thought Tim, `I know the sergeant could easily whip my ass here if he
really wanted to, but I'm thinking he likes to take a lot of punishment too -
just like me!' (Later on, after the whole exercise was ended, Tim wondered
if maybe this wasn't what the sergeant had intended right from the start?)


For a couple of moments more, they fought each other silently in the darkness,
concealed in the bottom of the foxhole and protected by the underbrush around
them. Even the other soldiers closest near-by had no idea of the desperate
struggle going on between Tim and the sergeant only a few feet away.


Both Tim and the sergeant knew, however, they wouldn't be able to carry their
struggle with each other on very long. For one thing, the commotion would soon
attract the attention of the other nearby soldiers anyway, and of the company
commander too, who was keeping a close eye on the whole exercise.

And, more importantly, both Tim and the sergeant knew that their fight, and in
particular their cockfight aspect of it, had gotten them so aroused they'd soon
be forced to shoot their loads whether they wanted to come or not.

In their slipperiness and now covered with mud, the sergeant eventually
managed, with his strength and experience helping him considerably, he
eventually managed to roll both of them over in the mud in the bottom
of the foxhole, which now left them both totally covered in mud. Then he also
managed to twist himself around on top of Tim until they were head-
to- toe.  And then with that, he got a really good figure-four head scissors
on Tim, stabbing his huge and hard rod deep down into Tim's waiting mouth
and throat.


Which was where they were when this little story began. Both Tim and the
sergeant, now even more covered with mud, had lost their shorts along the way
and now wearing nothing but their combat boots, and were otherwise naked in
the
mud.

Neither had any problem with any of that at all, particularly Tim, with the
solidly muscular sergeant on top of him, his head caught in a tight figure-four
head scissors between Panther Man's powerfully thick and muscular thighs.
And, of course, now also having the sergeant's long, thick and hard rod stabbed
deep down his throat.

At the same time, the sergeant had also seized Tim's own big rod too, sticking
straight up from his crotch just a couple of inches in front of the sergeant's
face, where the Sarge was now rubbing its big and seriously stimulated heart-
shaped end even as he was also pushing it forward between Tim's big legs into
the mud below.

Still, Tim fought desperately to escape and relieve the sergeant's punishment
on him even thought he also knew he was intensely enjoying the punishment he was
being forced to take.  Including the pleasure he was getting from wrapping his
tongue around the sergeant's big tool deep inside his mouth.

For a few seconds, both remained deadlocked as they struggled desperately against
each other. Then Tim knew the end was about to come as he felt all the hot white
cum in his body begin to shoot through his groin ready to burst out of him right
into the sergeant's face. And when he did suddenly shoot his full load of man-
juice he wasn't surprised to feel the sergeant's mouth come over his cock-end
and suck every drop of Tim's cum into his own mouth for its own delicious taste.

At the same instant, Tim suddenly felt his own mouth fill with the full load of
the sergeant's own hot creamy white cum as it burst out into his own mouth until
it filled it while the excess ran out and down into the mud below them.

`Mmmmm yeah,' Tim thought to himself, `this is sure good, and just like I'd like
to mess around with the sarge every day for the rest of our basic training.' Tim
didn't know it, but the sergeant was thinking along the same lines.


A couple of minutes later, the sergeant had disappeared in the undergrowth. Once
again, Tim found himself once again alone in this foxhole. Except now he was
completely mud covered, but totally relaxed too.


It was just getting light with the approaching dawn when he heard the loud speakers
at the edge of the training period announce that the exercise was now officially
ended. All of the men were ordered to come out from their foxholes and head to the
showers where they could get cleaned up and would be issued a clean pair of fatigues
and underwear, knowing all the men would be pretty grimy from their night's
exercise.

When he got to the showers, Tim noticed he wasn't the only man who was totally
covered by mud. He wondered what maybe some of the other guys might have gotten into
too?

`Not as good as I got,' he thought as he grinned to himself, `but maybe not so
far from it either.'

When they fell into formation after they got cleaned up and ready to head to the
mess hall for breakfast, the company commander told them their exercise had gone
off well, and they should be pleased with the fine job they did.

`Yeah,' thought Tim, with another wide grin on his face, `I thought it came off
real well too, for sure!'


The End


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