Date: Sun, 3 May 2015 10:40:09 -0400
From: Ron Nelson <nelson99@comporium.net>
Subject: Wrestler's Story - 8  Argosy Bar - Part 1

Wrestlers Story # 8 - The Argosy Bar -  Part 1


By: Ron Nelson


(© 2015 by the author)  (Note to Readers...This is sort of a long story,
so offered in two parts. Hope you'll get your enjoys and licks out of it,
and like the ending too!)



SAVANNAH, GEORGIA ....

Matt Dalton rode his deep burgundy and chrome Shadow 1100 cruiser motorcycle
around dusk down River Street, along the Savannah River, into the heart of the
old waterfront district of Savannah, Georgia. The pavement was still wet from an
August evening thunderstorm which drenched the area just moments ago, with the
lightning and distant thunder of the storm still to be seen and heard off toward
the east.

After a half dozen blocks, he turned into the hard packed dirt parking lot next
to the Argosy Bar, his destination. The Argosy was located in one of the
two-hundred year old solid stone and heavy timbered factor warehouses which
lined the historic waterfront. Many of the old warehouses dated back to the
early 1800's. At one time they held the huge bales of cotton, turpentine, lumber
and other commodities produced in the back country of Georgia, destined to be
loaded on to the sailing ships, and later freighters, to be shipped all over the
world.

The old warehouses are as dark and solid today as they were 200 years ago. The
Argosy and the old warehouse in which it is located are owned by Stavros Kostas,
known by the patrons of the Argosy as Steve. At one time he was a sailor and
assistant engineer on one of the freighters of the old Hellenic Shipping Line
which traded mainly between Piraeus, Greece, and Savannah.

At present Steve is about sixty, but it's hard to say exactly, what with his
dark and weathered skin and close cropped steel gray hair. At about five-eight
and two hundred pounds, just about all of it solid muscle but coated with a
comfortable layer of fat too, he'd doesn't look like he'd be too easy to move if
he didn't want to move.

However, that doesn't happen too often as his shrewd but good nature is always
ready to welcome anyone who comes in his door. He quietly notices everything
that is going on in the Argosy, however, and if he takes exception to any of it,
it doesn't take him long to straighten the situation out, including anyone who
is the cause of it.

Legend has it that he'd joined the Hellenic Shipping Line, when he was just
sixteen, as a cabin boy. In time, he rose to be a ship's mate and then by his
late forties he had become a senior assistant engineer, which was all he ever
aspired to.

On board, over the years, he'd met scores of shipmates of all shapes and
inclinations, talents and dispositions. Mostly, he got along with all of them.
But there were always a few who nobody could get along with, nor could Steve
either. Over the years Steve had also picked up an extraordinary talent for
poker and the other card games the sailors got into during their off hours.

Over time, Steve won substantially more than he lost, although he was always
careful never to take the other man's last dollar or drachma. Whenever he docked
in Savannah, he put his winnings safely in the Savannah Trust Bank for
safekeeping in case he might ever need to draw on it some time in the future.

In addition to the time he spent increasing his card-playing talents, he, like
many other sailors or other men confined to small quarters, such as in prisons,
also took up body building. He not only liked it for the pleasure and
satisfaction it gave him to see and feel his body develop like the pictures of
the ancient Greek athletes and wrestlers whom he admired, but also for the
protection it might provide him from some of the other similarly powerfully
built sailors who might be inclined to assault him for their own pleasure. Not
that Steve necessarily always minded such attention from some of the other men
on board.

Every ship always had some unused locker room or corner where the ship kept some
weights and unused cargo mats for the men to work out on. The weights were great
for building up, and the mats were good for whenever, as traditional Greeks, the
sailors engaged in Greece's oldest sport, wrestling. Steve, for one, like some
of the other sailors in particular, liked to wrestle around with another man in
their off hours whenever he got a chance.

Sometimes it was for the physical challenge and workout to further develop
himself. But almost as frequently it was for the physical and sensual pleasure
he got from the body contact of wrestling with some of the other sailors on
board, with them getting the same pleasure from Steve.

Early on as a boy, and then as he grew older, Steve was always attracted to look
at the statues and pictures of the Greek wrestlers, muscular and nude, in their
Olympic games or gymnasiums or matches. Those matches ranged from casual and
training matches in the Greek gymnasiums, to the pankration or `no holds barred'
wrestling in which no part of the other's body was immune from attack or
punishment. Steve liked that.


* * * *


About eight or ten years ago, while serving on the Hellenic Shipping Lines'
freighter Olympia, he met up with a shipmate, a sailor by the name of Kristos,
who developed a violent dislike for him along with most of his other shipmates.

One day, while they were in the middle of the voyage between Piraeus and
Savannah, in an off duty poker game, Steve and Kristos, with two other sailors,
were playing poker one night around midnight. Steve and one of the other men
were coming out ahead, and Kristos and the fourth man were at the losing end.

They were playing poker in the small compartment room just off the engine room
where the weights and wrestling mat were located. Suddenly, furious that he was
losing, Kristos leaped up and attacked Steve and dragged him over to the
wrestling mats to fight him there.

Steve went along with Kristos for a moment or two, not realizing how furious
Kristos was. But then he realized Kristos was serious in his attack and so he
began to take Kristos's anger more seriously himself.

It was hot near the engine room and the men had been wearing only brief shorts
and deck shoes. For a few minutes their fight and wrestling match, for Kristos
was a good wrestler too, went back and forth while the two other sailors in the
game stood and watched from the side.

But then Kristos pulled a sharp and pointed sailor's knife from under his belt
with the intent of stabbing or at least slashing Steve however he could.

Seeing that, and then feeling some warm blood on his leg and noticing that it
was his own blood from where Kristos had already managed to slash him, Steve
picked Kristos up bodily and smashed him against the bulkhead to take him out.
In doing so, Kristos happened to hit the bulkhead badly, broke his neck, and in
the next couple of minutes died.

An investigation was held by the Olympia's captain and first mate, and Steve was
found completely innocent. After the verdict, however, the captain suggested to
Steve that as the dead man had three brothers who also sailed on the Hellenic
Shipping Line ships in various capacities, and they would vow to get even with
him if they ever found Steve alone at sea, his life might very well end very
soon afterwards.

Steve took the captain's suggestion to heart and decided to follow his advice.
By now he'd served about all the years he cared to on board the Hellenic
Shipping Line ships anyway, and he'd accumulated a considerable amount of the
money which he had been depositing all along in the bank.

In addition, he'd been thinking about retiring from life at sea and instead take
up a career owning a Greek bar in America. He knew what he'd like it to be to
cater to the Greek and other foreign sailors coming to Savannah from all over
the world on various ships. He also figured he might attract some local people
who might find his bar and its unique offerings agreeable to their own likes and
interests.


* * * *


The Argosy Bar was located on the lower floor of the old factor warehouse on the
waterfront. It was a two-story building, which had one entrance which fronted on
River Street where Matt was coming on his motorcycle. The other entrance entered
on the upper level, which ran in from Bay Street above it.

At one time, horse-drawn wagons coming in from the fields and plantations
outside Savannah would bring their loads in at the upper level. Then the loads
of tar barrels, lumber and other commodities could be stored and winched down to
the lower level, from which they would be removed and be carted to the ships
which lined the waterfront.

Now the upper level entrance had been closed off so that the lower entrance to
the building was the only entrance to the building.

After acquiring the building, Steve fixed it up just the way he wanted it. On
the lower level, toward the front, he located the Argosy bar room. He'd found an
ornate old bar from one of the original paddlewheel steamers which went up and
down the East Coast. When the ship was eventually wrecked in a storm and had to
be dismantled for salvage, Steve bought the bar and moved it to the Argosy. With
the bar's ornate solid oak surface and the wood carvings, gilt mirrors and brass
fittings Steve bought along with it, the whole bar took up one entire side wall
of the room.

Along the opposite wall there were six dark oak booths with padded leather
seats, and in the middle were about five smaller tables with chairs for patrons
who preferred to sit there. Hanging from the walls and ceiling, in addition to
the usual brightly colored neon beer company signs, were various fish nets, old
lanterns and other memorabilia from the ships and the lives of the men who
sailed on them all around the world. With the original factor warehouse rough
stone walls and high and dark timbered ceiling, and only a couple of dim lights
hanging from the ceiling, the Argosy had a dark and comfortable atmosphere which
appealed to its patrons.

The Argosy was not widely known outside of Savannah, and it was rarely mentioned
in the magazines which told of Savannah's many charms and points of interest.
However, those who knew of the Argosy, tended to know it well and came back to
it time after time.

Many of these repeat patrons, as word got around among the ships and their crews
as to places to visit when they were in port in Savannah, were sailors who came
in to the Argosy from ships from all over the world. Wherever they came from
they always knew they'd be welcome at the Argosy. Many also knew of a couple of
unique other features of the Argosy as well, which made it even more appealing
to them.


* * * *


The Argosy factor warehouse held more space than Steve needed for the bar. That
was one reason he acquired it originally.

Steve knew that lots of times sailors on board ships developed intimate
friendships with some of their other shipmates in particular. However, for
reasons of their assignments on board or rank or other circumstances on board
the ship, they were unable to carry their relationships any further, or as far
as they would like.

It was only when the sailors were in a port that they could get off their ship
and find a place and time when they could experience their interests with the
other, and special, shipmates more deeply.

Many times, their interests in their other shipmates were no more than just to
get totally drunk and wiped out with them, knowing they could drink all they
wanted for as long as they wanted, and know they didn't have to report for duty
only a few hours later.

For others, there may have been an increasing amount of friction with another
man until the only way to settle it would be to fight the other man where they
wouldn't be limited by the ship's confining circumstances. That was the case
when Steve and Kristos fought and it ended with Kristos' death.

And then many times the men simply wanted to know another shipmate to the
fullest degree possible, and to let their physical and emotional needs be
satisfied for the full and complete pleasure it would give both of them, which
again they were rarely able to satisfy on board their ship.

To satisfy these varying needs, Steve planned to add a couple of other features
to the Argosy for the pleasure of the sailors who might like them, or for any
other patrons who might also like to take advantage of them.

The Argosy bar took up only the front half of the lower level. Behind the wall
which separated the bar from the rest of the old factor warehouse, an old wooden
staircase, left over from the days when the building was a warehouse, led to the
upper level.

Up here on the upper level Steve installed half a dozen cubicles, separated by
rough wooden panels about eight feet high. Each cubicle held a small and simple
bed similar to a ship's cot with which a sailor would be familiar and
comfortable. A small table, lamp, chair and some clothes hooks completed the
furnishings of each cubicle. A couple of cubicles were larger and held double
the furnishings of the single cubicles.

The intention of the cubicles was to provide a place where sailors, if they were
too intoxicated, or it was too late for them to return to their ships that
night, or if they simply preferred to stay on shore that night, would have a
place to sleep. Or whatever else they might want to do with their night.

To the rear of the bar, beyond the wooden stairs and behind another thick old
original warehouse wooden door, was the rear half of the first floor. Here Steve
had put in something else that he knew he would like for his own use, and which
he knew a number of other sailors who had spent long weeks on board a ship might
like to use.

They would be the active and muscular men of various ages, from young teens who
were apprentices on the ships to senior sailors who had spent years at sea,
might like to use and work out to satisfy more of their physical needs. And find
release all of the energy which would have so long been accumulating in their
bodies but which they'd been unable to fully release in the limited
possibilities on board their ships.

That was a full size wrestling mat which Steve had set up in the middle of the
heavy rough stone and timbered warehouse room for whoever might like to work out
on it. Around the mat were some plain wooden benches where anyone who wanted
could watch whatever action might be happening on the mat.

The big dimly lit warehouse room smelled not only of the tar and turpentine and
tobacco which were left over from a hundred and more years ago, but of more
recent sweat and liniment and other pungent gym and muscular body smells as
well. The room was lit only by only a single light which hung down from the high
beamed ceiling over the mat.

There was a little more to the room than just the center wrestling mat.

Off to one side there was a small alcove which once held smaller or more
valuable commodities ready for shipment. Now it held some lockers, clothes hooks
and changing benches. Next to it was a small open shower room which held four
showers running into a single floor drain, and a couple of toilet stalls.

Against the rear wall was another alcove formed by two rough wooden walls which
made the alcove only about ten feet square. Here the light over the big center
mat cast only a slight glow but which otherwise left it in almost total
darkness. On the floor from wall to wall was another wrestling mat.

Steve knew that sometimes sailors liked to wrestle or work out in bigger areas
or where others could watch the action. Other wrestlers liked to work out in
smaller, enclosed and more private areas where they could focus entirely on each
other. Here they could wrestle each other for as long as they liked, however
they liked, and until they would feel completely drained and satisfied with
whatever they did.

Not many patrons of the Argosy knew what the back room and upstairs of the
Argosy held. But those who did know, knew they liked it. Like Matt.


* * * *


Matt knew about both the upstairs sleeping room and the back room from the bar
and the wrestling mats which were located there. He recalled that when he was
only thirteen, he already knew he was attracted more to guys than to girls. He
knew he particularly liked to wrestle around with other guys not only for the
physical workout it gave him, but for the sensual pleasure it gave him too. In
the back country of Georgia, where he grew up, there were a lot of opportunities
for wrestling around with some of his buddies, and he was always ready to get
into it whenever the chance came up.

Coming into the Argosy this evening, and thinking about the back wrestling room
and what it might hold for him that night, Matt recalled one Saturday afternoon
in August a few years back. He was fifteen, and living with his grandparents on
their farm in the small town of Claxton, Georgia.

Living on an adjoining farm was his buddy Seth, who was eighteen. Most
afternoons, after their chores were done, they'd go off to go swimming in a
nearby creek to cool off and pass a quiet afternoon together. They swam naked in
the creek, and then, after swimming around for a while, they got out and lay
naked in the cool grass under some willow trees to stay cool and dry off.

Early on, as they swam around, they'd already begun to fool around hit and
splash each other in the creek, and now, one day, as they lay on the grass, Seth
reached over to punch Matt in the chest. Both already knew they liked the give
and take of hitting and taking each other's blows and moves on each other when
swimming in the creek, and Matt returned the punch.

In another moment they found themselves locked together wrestling each other,
each trying for some advantage over the other, but liking it just as much when
they were caught and trapped by the other too.

Wrestling naked, it didn't take long for them to get aroused and for their cocks
to harden and stick straight out from their bodies. That in turn provided more
easy targets for the other's further punishment. Seth, who was the stronger and
heavier of the two, eventually managed to get on top of Matt, head to toe, to
hold him down. Matt fought back, but at the same time he knew he didn't have any
trouble with his predicament as he liked the feel of the naked and muscular Seth
on lying on top of him and holding him down.

Then Seth added to his hold on Matt by wrapping his muscular legs around Matt's
head to get him in a tight and suffocating head scissors. And, in addition,
positioning his now long and hard cock directly over Matt's face. It wasn't the
first time Matt had felt Seth's long and hard cock pressed hard against his face
at one time or another, and he had no problem with it now either.

This time, however, Seth then started to rub Matt's cock, which was already hard
and sticking up right in front of his own face, too, making it even harder. That
was a new sensation for Matt, but he knew he didn't have any problem with it
either even though he didn't quite know where it was leading to.

He'd already learned about three years ago how to jerk off and pleasure himself
when he was alone in his bedroom at night, but he'd never shot his load with
anybody else around.

Now, however, as he began to think about what Seth was doing to him, he'd lost
his focus on the fact that at the same time Seth had stabbed his own equally
hard cock not only against his face but almost all the way deep down into his
own mouth.

It was only when he found he was almost choking on it, and Seth was stabbing it
repeatedly faster and faster and deeper and deeper down his throat, that Matt
knew he was getting it at both ends.

Matt already knew that when he came, he came fast. It was no different now with
Seth working him over than when he was pleasuring himself.

After struggling for a few minutes to escape from under Seth and what Seth was
doing to him, but also really liking it, he very soon felt himself begin to
come. And by Seth's movements and groans, he knew Seth was too.

Then it happened. Suddenly Matt felt his full load of cum race through his cock
and burst out right into Seth's face, which was not more than an inch from the
end of Matt's big hard heart-shaped cock end. At the same time, Matt suddenly
tasted all of Seth's own hot sweet cream of Seth's own huge load of cum shoot
out of Seth's equally big and hard cock end, and pour and pulse into his own
mouth and down his throat as well.

For a moment or two they remained locked together, neither moving as both
enjoyed the pleasure and the feel of what they'd done to and with each other,
and the taste of each other's cum in their mouth. Finally, after they were
completely drained and their cocks went limp, they felt the rest of their bodies
go limp too.

"Man, I liked that," said Matt.

"Me too," was Seth's reply. "Let's do it again next time. I know I'd sure like
to!"

"Same here!"

The rest of that summer, Matt and Seth returned to the swimming hole a number of
other times. Each time they both knew they went for more than just the swimming.
They both knew neither had any problem with it either. It seemed so natural to
them they could never get enough of it.

At the end of the summer, having finished school, Seth moved to Savannah to get
a construction job on the waterfront. There, he met a couple of slightly older
men who he found liked to wrestle the same way he did. That is, easy going
messing around, give and take, as much for the sensual pleasure of it as for the
casual workout and relief it gave them.

One of the men was named Jake, and the other Rinaldo. Jake was about
twenty-five, had played football and wrestled in college, and now worked as a
crane operator. Rinaldo was about twenty-seven, immigrated from Italy about
either years ago, and was a muscular stone mason working on the dock bulkheads.

Seth then began to join them Saturday nights when they wrestled in the small
apartment they shared in which they'd fitted out some wrestling mats. That's
when Seth first found out something new, which he soon began to like, too. That
was, sometimes he'd be riding another guy who was on his hands and knees, or
body pressing him when he was flat on the mat. Then, in addition to just
wrapping his arms and legs around the body of the man under him, and when his
big cock would be pressed hard against the bottom man's butt, he discovered the
additional pleasure of slowly and easily, but firmly, driving his big rod deep
into the other man's butt and body, much to the pleasure of both men.

It took Seth just a little while to get used to it, give or take. But they took
it slowly at first, with Seth on top to drive his hard rod deep into the other
man's butt. Then, reversing their positions where he found he also liked the
feel of having the other man's long and hard rod slowly but surely penetrate
deep into his own body. He found he got a lot of pleasure either way, either
giving or getting it, and was a new way to get the deep sensual pleasure he got
from wrestling around with another man in the first place.


* * * *


For the next three summers Seth returned to Claxton to work on the farm, as Seth
continued to do as well, and they still went swimming together in the creek
after they finished their chores. And then they also liked to wrestle around
again in the grass afterwards as they had before.

But now Seth showed Matt what newer and additional ways he'd found out to get
pleasure from wrestling around with another man.

Now when Seth was on his hands and knees on the soft grass and Matt was riding
on top of him, both of them wet and naked, and with both of them fully aroused
and their cocks long and hard, Seth felt, as usual, Matt's big rod pressed
tightly against his butt.

But of course now he knew what he'd learned and experienced in Savannah from
Jake and Rinaldo. However, he wasn't too sure of what Matt's reaction might be
if he suggested it right off. Instead, with Matt on top of him, Seth suggested
to Matt that it would be ok with him if Matt positioned his big cock end right
against his open and waiting butt hole.

Matt had no problem with that and liked the feel of it. Then Seth suggested to
Matt that he wouldn't have any problem with it if he drove his rod slowly and
easily into his waiting butt hole. Matt didn't have any problem with that and so
slowly, gently, but more and more deeply all the time, drove his long and hard
rod deep into Seth's butt hole until it penetrated deep into Seth's muscled body
and couldn't go any further.

At the same time Matt was driving his hard shaft into Seth`s waiting body, in
order to keep his tight wrestling hold on Seth, he wrapped his arms tightly
around Seth's muscled upper body to grab both of Seth's big pecs in his fist and
squeeze them to increase the pressure he was putting on Seth. He knew that Seth
liked to have both his butt and his pecs worked over hard, and Matt had no
trouble, and enjoyed, giving it to him.

Seth, in turn, groaned with the pleasure of what Matt was doing to him, and
could only say, "Give me more, man, more - all you got!"

Which Matt did for the pleasure it was giving to both of them. Suddenly,
however, he realized he was about to come and shoot his full cum load while his
big rod was deep inside Seth`s muscled and naked body.

Matt wasn't sure if he should come while his rod was deep inside Seth, and tried
to withdraw it. But then Seth wouldn't let him.

Instead, understanding Matt was about to come, Seth reached one hand up off the
grass to grab one of Matt's hand which was squeezing his pecs and held him tight
so that he couldn't let go. At the same time Seth tightened his butt muscles to
keep Matt from pulling out of his butt end too.

Matt was in a panic for a moment. Then it was too late. In the next instant,
Matt felt all of his hot white creamy cum shoot out of his big cock and pulse
deep inside Seth's wet, warm and waiting body. On and on Matt felt his cum pulse
and flow out of him until finally there was no more and he grew limp with
exhaustion.

It was only then that Seth let him go. Both rolled over to their sides on the
grass and when Matt reopened his eyes, both grinned at each other.

In the following couple of weeks, as it was still only July, whenever they went
swimming together, they followed it up by wrestling in the grass next to the
creek. And from there it almost always ended up with Matt on top of Seth,
pinning him down, and then his big and still growing rod finding its way deep
into Seth's muscled body with the same results, to the increasing ease and
pleasure of both of their action, every time.

Then one day in early August, Seth asked Matt if he'd like the feel of his own
cock slowly feed down into his, Matt's, butt, and know that Seth's cum would be
shot deep into his own body.

At first Matt wasn't too sure. But he knew the pleasure Seth got from it, and so
it didn't take too long for him to decide he wanted it too. Seth took it real
slowly and easily on Matt at first to be sure he was ok with it. But it soon
turned out Matt liked to take it just as much as Seth. Later on, whenever they
wrestled again, it went, and they liked it, either way...


* * * *


As Matt turned his motorcycle in to park it along the side of the building, he
glanced around to see who else might be at the Argosy that night. As usual, he
saw the other vehicles were mostly pickup trucks, some older and smaller, but a
couple of others big hulking monsters of trucks. A few ordinary cars, but what
looked like a fairly new Cadillac and a Jaguar too.

`Pretty much as usual,' he thought as he dropped the kick stand, which cut the
engine, and turned the wheel to lock it as protection from someone, who might
have had a little too much to drink and began to think he might like to take it
for a ride somewhere.

As Matt pushed open the old and heavy wood door, left from when the building was
still a factor warehouse, he stepped into the bar room with its rich and pungent
mixed smells of a couple hundred years of commodity smells mixed with the more
recent barroom smells of smoke and spilled beer. It all smelled good and
familiar, and Matt knew he was where he wanted to be for the rest of the night.

Matt had had a typically full day earlier that day. His job was a forklift
operator on the riverfront docks just north of the city. It was a job he'd had
for a little more than three years now. He liked it and was good at it.

It was year-round outside work. Sometimes the winters were cold on the piers,
and the summers were hot, but he liked it and was accustomed to it, either way.
In the winter an insulated parka, gloves and boots kept him warm. And in the
summers, such as now, just a pair of cutoffs, a tight sleeveless t-shirt and his
work boots were sufficient to keep him comfortable.

At about five-nine and one-seventy, and in particularly good shape both from
working out regularly in his spare time at a nearby gym as well as the workout
he got from driving his forklift. He was aware that his muscular body wasn't too
bad to look at either by anybody watching him nearby.

His job was fairly simple, although it took an experienced touch and feel to do
it. Most of the cargo carried by freighters these days was in containers. For
unloading, these containers were lifted off the deck or out of the hold and then
swung over the side and placed on modified rail cars to be moved to the
warehouses or waiting trains at the end of the dock.

However, a portion of a freighter's cargo frequently was in the form of
odd-sized shipments, or shipments of a special or fragile nature, which were put
in special-sized crates or left open on pallets. These needed to be unloaded
separately from the standard containers and required special individual
handling. Picking up and moving these individual pieces of cargo was Matt's job
with his forklift.

This special cargo was generally loaded into the aft cargo holds of the
freighters. When a ship was docked and ready to be unloaded, the Deck Chief in
charge of the cargo would take his place along the rail where he could watch
both the cargo as it was being brought up out of the hold, then lifted over the
ship's rail, and then placed down carefully on the dock in a designated location
from which Matt could pick it up with his forklift and move it back to the
customs or holding area for its next move.

The freighter Heraklion of the Hellenic Shipping Line, sailing out of Piraeus,
Greece, had come in during the night with a full cargo on board to be unloaded
in Savannah. The bulletin board in the Pier Operations Office on the dock listed
what ships were at the docks, how long they would be there, and their unloading
and loading schedules. The board showed that the Heraklion would be in port for
three days, taking one day for unloading its cargo, one day for loading its new
cargo, and one day for some unspecified repairs.

Matt saw that he was assigned the forklift job for the unloading of the special
cargo of the Heraklion. It was scheduled to begin at 7am, and was projected to
last until 4pm.

`Good,' thought Matt. `That'll make a full day's work and pay. Then I can get
back to my apartment, sack out for a while and have supper, and ride over to the
Argosy later on to see what might be happening there tonight.'

Matt had gotten to the dock shortly after 6:30am, in time to check in and see
what else was going on. He parked his motorcycle just outside the gate, checked
in with the time clock, got his forklift out of the dock storage garage, and
headed over to the Heraklion by a quarter to seven.

By the time he got to the ship, he could see that the container unloading had
already begun, as usual, with the ship's own cranes already released and swung
into position, ready to hoist the big cargo containers out of the forward and
mid-ship holds where they were secured. At the same time, the dock railcars had
been moved into place to receive them once they reached the dock, ready to move
them to the end of the dock where they would be loaded on to the regular
railroad cars.

Matt drove his forklift to the aft end of the ship and stopped opposite the
smaller ship's crane which he knew would be the one he'd receive his cargo from.
His next step would be to spot the Deck Chief who would direct the unloading
operation, and whose direction he would follow as to what cargo was coming up,
where it would be placed on the dock, and any special instructions as to how it
was to be handled, as all of those were the Deck Chief's responsibility.

For a moment, the sun blinded his eyes as he looked up at the Heraklion's main
deck, about twenty-five feet above him. As his eye followed along the deck edge,
however, he soon saw the Deck Chief standing there, looking down at him, with a
wide grin on his face.

Matt couldn't help but give him an equally big grin in return. It was a grin
rather than a call or shout as the noise of the cranes and other dock and ship
noises made it difficult for them to hear each other and so they would, as
usual, have to communicate mostly by the usual dock sign language, which both
knew well.

The grin on Matt's face was also in checking out the Deck Chief himself.

`Man,' thought Matt, `He sure does look good! I wouldn't mind getting into it
with him some time!' As he looked at the Deck Chief, he felt his own big cock
grow long and hard, most likely even visibly bulging out from under his
cut-offs, considering what he was thinking.

The Deck Chief did look good. He looked like he might be in his mid-thirties,
and was deeply tanned. Under his dark blue baseball cap which said "Deck Chief"
in gold letters, his curly black hair came down low over his forehead and came
partly over his ears too. He had sort of a pug nose, which might have been
natural or also looked like it might have been hit and pushed back into his face
at one time. His ears stuck out a little, and they looked slightly
cauliflowered, the way a wrestler's looks after he's been caught in a few too
many headlocks or head scissors on him. He looked, in fact, like many other
Greek sailors he'd seen, but even better. He looked something like Steve, back
at the Argosy, except maybe a slightly younger but more powerfully muscular
version of him.

Matt couldn't help but notice the Deck Chief's bulging biceps and big and solid
pecs under his tight clean white t-shirt, his tight dark blue workout shorts
which barely held in his thick and muscular thighs and legs, and dark
all-weather deck boots. He looked like most likely he worked out pretty
regularly in the Heraklion's crew gym, and who knew what else he might do for
workouts with the other crew members on board too?

`He's got a fighter's face with a wrestler's body, but his sparkling eyes and
wide grin give him a real easy going and good natured expression. Whatever, he
sure looks good,' thought Matt. `Yeah, I'd sure like to get to know him a lot
better.'

Over the dock and ship noise, despite being barely able to be heard, Matt called
up, "Hey Chief, I'm Matt! At your service! Whatever you want - I'm all yours!"
Matt meant it two ways, and he hoped the powerfully muscular Deck Chief would
take it that way.

To the Deck Chief, Matt looked very good himself. For work that day, Matt was
wearing a sleeveless t-shirt which said "Savannah-Wrestling" on it, brief camo
shorts, workboots, and a camo baseball cap. He didn't look that much different,
in fact, except maybe ten years younger and not quite as big and powerfully
built, as the Deck Chief himself. The Deck Chief liked just as much what he saw
in Matt.

"Ok Matt, I Lykos! We work good together I think. You wrestle like your shirt
say? You look like tough man. Maybe I like wrestle you, but I no want you to
hurt me!" said Lykos, the smile on his face growing wider as he spoke.

`Oh man,' thought Matt, 'I'd sure like that!'

"Ok Lykos, you're on-and I'll try not to hurt you too bad either!" was Matt's
grinning reply. Both knew it was very unlikely that Matt would be able to hurt
Lykos if they ever were to wrestle. But who knows?

It was now time to start unloading the cargo, however, and Lykos turned to give
the orders to the crewman who was working the aft crane to begin hoisting the
first cargo pallet out of the hold. Lykos then turned back to Matt and indicated
to him where on the dock he intended to place it so that Matt could maneuver his
forklift to the best position to pick up the pallet and move it away.

The morning went by smoothly as Lykos and Matt worked together easily to
coordinate the timing of lifting the cargo out of the hold, then placing it
carefully on to the dock, and then Matt's moving it to the holding area at the
end of the dock and coming back for another load.

Lykos signaled they would break for lunch at noon, and Matt hoped Lykos might
come down to the dock so that they could get up closer to each other. Lykos,
however, had to remain on board, most likely to check on the remainder of the
cargo still to be unloaded, and whatever else he had to do.

As scheduled, the unloading was completed shortly before 4pm. When Lykos
signaled that the last pallet was now being lowered to the dock, he gave Matt a
final grin, pointed to Matt's shirt and extended his thickly muscled arms out to
Matt as a wrestler might to an opponent when starting a match. He then gave Matt
a thumbs up and disappeared from sight.

Matt was sorry to finish the job with Lykos, but knew that was the way it had to
be. He picked up the last pallet with his forklift and took it to the end of the
dock. That done, he returned the forklift to its storage garage for the night,
checked out through the main gate, got on and started up his motorcycle and rode
home to his apartment to sack out and eat some supper as he'd planned to do
earlier.


* * * *


"Hey Steve," was Matt's greeting to Steve, who noticed him as soon as he came
through the Argosy's door shortly before eight, after he`d had his supper and
gotten a few winks. "Good evening, my friend," was Steve's welcoming reply to
Matt. Before Matt even got to the bar, Steve had opened a bottle of Millers,
which he knew was Matt's preferred beer.

As Steve then turned to wait on another customer, Matt took an empty seat at the
bar and swiveled around to check out who else was in the bar, and anything else
that might be happening. In the back of his mind, Matt knew, of course, that the
Argosy was a favorite bar of many of the sailors on the freighters who came to
Savannah, and he couldn't help but hope that sooner or later, with luck, he
might see Lykos there, either alone or with some of his buddies.

Unfortunately, while there was a good crowd in the Argosy already, Lykos wasn`t
there. It was still early, however, and maybe he'd come in later. As he was
Greek, and Steve was Greek, Matt hoped Lykos would at least know about the
Argosy Bar. Even if he did, however, he might not get to the Argosy if he had
some duty on board the Heraklion that night anyway. He didn't want to get his
hopes up too high on seeing Lykos again.

After watching the crowd for a while and talking with the man seated next to him
at the bar for a few minutes, Matt decided he'd head back to the back room and
the wrestling mat to see if there was any action going on back there.

Most of the time nothing was happening this early in the evening, but sometimes
a couple of sailors or local dock workers might have come in early when they
couldn't wait any longer to get into it with each other. That might have been
either out of anger or seeking pleasure. Or maybe both at the same time.

As he stepped into the big back former warehouse room, for a couple of minutes
Matt couldn't see anything due to the dim light cast by the single overhead bulb
over the center mat. Matt then saw it was empty, with no one else in the big
dark room either.

As he first glanced over at the dark mat in the rear alcove it too at first
appeared to be empty. But then, in the darkness, Matt saw what looked like some
movement on it.

In the near darkness of the alcove, as he got closer to them, he saw they were
two big men now locked together, one holding a tight headlock on the other,
both almost motionless on the mat. Both men were naked, covered with sweat, and
totally intent on each other.

One man, with a big mop of roughed up black hair almost covering his face, was
on top of and lying sideways across the bottom man. The bottom man, who had
a shaved skull, was lying partly on his side and partly on his back under
the top man with the mat underneath him.

In the dim light, the top man looked to be maybe in his late twenties or early
thirties. The bottom man looked older like he might be in his forties or even
early fifties. Matt guessed both men must have weighed well over two hundred
pounds and both had thick and muscular arms, thick legs and thighs, thick necks
and enormous and ponderous pecs.

The man on top had the bottom man in the tight headlock and was pressing his big
pec fully against the bottom man's face trying to stuff as much of his pec as he
could into the bottom man's mouth to choke him on it.  Matt noticed that the
top man had already succeeded in forcing his nipple into the bottom man's mouth,
forcing him to suck on it while the bottom man was now gasping for breath.

The bottom man, however, although blinded and being forced to endure the top man's
punishment of him, with his huge pec almost filling his mouth, had nevertheless
reached around through the top man's thick legs, which were stretched out next
to him, and had seized the top man's naked and exposed cock in his fist. Matt
could see that the top man's cock was fully aroused and almost as big and
hard as a hammer handle. Matt could now see that the bottom man was trying to
crush it in his fist while at the same time was trying to pull it back through
the top man's enormous legs to rip it off the top man's body.

As Matt watched them for a few minutes, even though they were almost motionless,
he could see that the bottom man was trying to turn his head in the other man's
headlock on him to get the top man's big pec out of his mouth and let him
breathe free again, while the top man tried to shift around slightly to ease the
torture on his cock.

Neither would gave in, however, and so their deadlock and torture of each other
continued as long as Matt watched them. Their deadlock was actually one of
Matt's own favorite holds and predicaments to get into, either to take or get
caught in, and he knew the combination of pain and pleasure both men were
getting from their deadlock. He wondered which would give in first, or if
eventually, by mutual consent they would consider it a draw and release their
holds at the same time and then go on to something else.

Matt watched the two big wrestlers locked together in the dark alcove of the big
rear room where the wrestling mats were, for more than fifteen minutes. While
watching them, although they were focused on each other and the pain each was
giving and taking from the other, first one and then the other glanced up at
him. As they looked up at him, Matt noticed small grins covering their faces. It
was as if they were saying they were very much liking what they were doing to
and with each other, and had no problem with it. Matt returned with a grin on
his face as well as if to say he understood what they were doing and feeling,
and liking the same thing himself.

As Matt watched the two big wrestlers in front of him, a couple of other men
came in from the bar to watch, but, as the wrestlers were almost motionless and
deadlocked, they left after just a couple of minutes to return to the bar. Matt
then returned to be bar too to resume his seat at the bar to see what else might
be happening.


* * * *


When he got back to the bar, a few more patrons had come in, including a group
of men at the back table of eight who looked, by their varied clothes, like they
probably were some crewmen from one of the ships in port. The other tables
around the bar had also begun to fill up, and the barstools began to fill up
too. It looked like it was going to be a good night at the Argosy, and Matt
hoped there'd be some action to see, or, even better, maybe get into himself
later on in the big back room on the mats.



End of Part 1  (Part 2 Will Appear Next Week)