Date: Mon, 28 Aug 2006 07:50:33 -0700 (PDT)
From: Mark Wild <markwild082@yahoo.com>
Subject: Red Devil Wrestler, pt. 3

Disclaimer:  If you are not yet 18 years of age or if it is illegal to
read materials of this kind where you live, then please stop now. This
story contains descriptions of sexual activity between adolescent boys
and is for adult eyes only.  The acts are consensual and are a result of
their love or lust for one another. This story is completely fiction,
and all names and descriptions (except for the occasional place-name) are
also made up.  Any similarities are purely coincidental.

I would love to hear from you, so negative as well as positive feedback
is always welcome.  Please write: markwild082@yahoo.com


For J.D. Salinger, my favorite writer, although I doubt he'd like it!



Red Devil Wrestler, pt. 3



So we finally graduated, and got our summer jobs.  They employed us down
at the men's room to lick dudes' feet and polish their knobs.  Ha! you
pervs!  We didn't, either.  We went to work for my dad.  They needed new
meat to ride down at his warehouse, and we were cheaply had.  Of course
since they knew who I was, at first, they looked at us kind of
suspicious, until I let drop that Carleen's (the receptionist's) tits
looked some kind of delicious.  We were out on the loading dock, hauling
bags of concrete, when she walked by in a tight little skirt and blouse.
"Has anyone seen Pete?"  I piped right up.  "He went to lunch.  Anything
I can help you with?"  "...Maybe in a couple of years," while she checked
me out like a little bitch.  ---"Woohoo!  Dude!  She shut you
DOWN!" Slate laughed when she had left.  "Naww..."  I adjusted my hair
real cool.  "She's just playin' hard to get."

   Slim laughed real dirty-like.  "Shit!  If yer daddy could hear you
talk like that!"  "Shit.  You don't know my daddy too well, then.  Bet
chu he's already had it."  Well, I didn't know that he HAD:  I was just
talkin' shit.  At least he wasn't in the back of Slate's car suckin' cock
like a secret flit.  I mean, in just a couple of weeks I was like turning
into an addict, and started gettin' all antsy and shit when I'd gone
awhile without it.  Slater wasn't helping, either:  he was gettin' so
fuckin' buff, and when no one at work but me was lookin' he'd grin and
adjust his stuff.

   Plus I had broken it off with May, and Slater stopped hangin' so much
with Carrie; there were two chicks in our class who'd already announced
they were gettin' married.  Bren was off on a driving trip for a
month out West with his family.  They were going to Yellowstone Park, the
Grand Tetons, and then to Yosemite.  Jake had wangled a lifeguarding gig
at the Jewish Community Center, and we'd go hang after work sometimes for
an hour or so before dinner.  Craig was away himself for a couple of
weeks, at an uncle's in Florida.  He'd call Slate up on his cellphone and
send him live pics from the beach.  "Should I nail 'er?"  So yeah, it was
like in not even a month the group was kind of broke up, and with
everyone gone it was like me and Slate were hangin' together a LOT.

   I mean we were working ten hours a day sometimes, and sometimes more,
unloading trucks, hauling trash, lifting heavy shit, mopping the bathroom
floors.  This of course was always our favorite, every couple'a days:  we
knew we were in for it every time Jim came around with that grin on his
face.  He'd make a big point of asking Slim if he'd seen the mop and
bucket?  Slater and I would groan and roll our eyes.  Oh well.  "Aww,
fuck it..."  "And get all the pubes in the urinals this time, boys,"
he slapped our backs when we passed.  Man, when I finally owned this
place he was soooo gonna kiss my ass...  But the funny thing was, as hard
as we worked? as soon as we clocked out, we wouldn't be in the car six
blocks before I had Slate's cock out.  That's when he'd drive me
home real slow, and take his time on the back roads.  That's when he'd
shove my face down hard on his prick, and feed me his cumloads.  Funny
how I could be so damn tired at work, and not ten minutes later, be
bursting with energy, laughin' and jokin', all from just BEIN' with
Slater.  And hungry?  Dudes!  Even if we got home and mom had made some
Sloppy Joes, we'd bolt a few down, clean up, and two hours later be
toolin' to Domino's!

    "Maybe the MEAT Lovers' Special tonight, huh?  Extra ham and
pepperoni?  We gotta keep your strength up, Coop!"  And he'd order an
extra calzone!  The thing was he acted so fuckin' cool when he joked
around with me like that that half the time I was startin' to forget to
say somethin' snappy back.  I mean I'd look at his fuckin' arms, or his
pecs, or jaw, and uh-oh...  Trust me, dudes, some nights I was kinda
relieved to be hangin' solo.  I mean, sometimes, just between you and me,
when he was like out on a date with Carrie? I seriously would like worry
sometimes I was turnin' into a fairy.  I know, dudes, I know ---I mean,
Jesus H. CHRIST, now how fuckin' weird is THAT?...  All I knew was that I
was daydreaming more about Slater than snatch...

   Whoa, and YES that freaked me out, dudes.  Jocks don't go
around bonin' for dick.  So who could blame me for startin' to wonder
sometimes, ya know, if I was sick.  I even went to some sports sites
online, looking for information, but there wasn't too much there that
seemed to apply to MY situation.  One night though I stumbled on this
webpage called "Jocks in the Wild," which was run by this sports
psychologist dude whose name was... Dr. Wild!  Dudes from all over would
send him in questions if they were like havin' sports problems, and he
would answer and give them advice and try to help them solve them.  So
yeah, I guess I was stoned and shit, but I wrote this dude an email.  And
you know what? this doctor wrote back, askin' me for details!  All about
Slater, and all about sports, and how much did I weigh, and what was the
average number of times that I choked the bishop a day?

   So, you know, I told him a lot of the stuff I've been telling you guys
---and before you start rollin' your eyes at each other, this DOCTOR
wrote back with some good advice.  I mean, I wouldn't have thought this
myself, but Dr. Wild says so.  HE says if jocks sometimes suck a few
dicks it does NOT even mean that they're homos.  He says that most people
just don't know it, but they have done numerous surveys, and 90% of the
jocks who sucked dick did NOT even turn into fairies.  The other 10% he
was pretty sure were queer to start with, "which just goes to show that
being queer has nothing to do with sucking dick."  HE says it's
actually something medical, all about sweat and salt ingestion, and how
there's proteins inside a jock's dick that can supplement your
digestion.  "Plus," he joked, "if you're sucking a dick it's unlikely the
bitch'll get pregnant!" ---hoo! and havin' had THAT scare myself, I knew
just what he meant!

   Plus he reminded me straight up that a lot of this shit was hormonal,
and that instead of bein' a freak I was actually pretty normal.  Bein' a
highschool football star, it was natural that I'd be oversexed ---I was
just lucky I had a buddy like Slater to help relieve the stress!...  So
I'd relax a couple of days, and not be so jealous if he had a date; I
wouldn't even care when he bragged at work how she'd kept him out so
late.  I started getting used to being horned when we hung out,
and throwin' wood half the time each time he'd say, "Hey!  Time to work
out!"  I started almost looking FORWARD to Slater grabbing my hair, and
letting me lick out his hairy pits and calling me a queer.  I almost
didn't shiver when he peeled off his dirty socks, and held them up.  "You
wanna sniff 'em, Mr Football Jock?"  I mean it was like, well... little
by little, I was doin' whatever Slate said, lettin' him pin me whenever
we wrestled, sniffin' his jockstrap, givin' him head...  But ALL o' this
shit, which I got kinda used to, didn't help so much, when after awhile
Slate started to change, and started getting rough...

   One day they'd really messed up the schedule, and we both had a
weekend off from work.  On Saturdays they closed the pool at three so the
Jews could go to church.  That's why Jake was toolin' with us,
hangin' out down at the park, throwin' a Frisbee and catchin' some rays
and generally actin' smart.  And every time we got a rhythm goin' Slate
would "fuck up," and have me runnin' all over the place, chasin' wobblies
and pop-ups.  Even Jake was getting ticked.  "Jesus, Slate, stop bein' a
prick."  Slate just belched and stretched and said, "You both can suck my
dick."  ..."What's the matter?" Jake plopped down spread-eagle on the
grass.  "Carrie ain't puttin' out no more?"  "Maaaan, I'm over her ass."
Jake just snorted.  "Sounds like you got a major problem, bro."  "Yeah,
man, it's enough to turn a fuckin' wrestler homo!"  Slater laughed and
scratched his chest, and Jake rolled onto his elbow.  "Well, I wouldn't'a
said it myself, but I guess you should know, bro....."

   Slate looked up.  "I'm JOkin', dude.  I ain't got a queer bone in
me!"  But something in the way he said it struck me completely funny.  I
started laughing and Jake looked over and started laughing too, and
Slater kind of humphed a bit, but there really wasn't much he could do.
He gave me this look though when Jake wasn't looking, and I could tell he
was pretty pissed:  his face was flushed, he scratched his forearms, and
balled his hands half into fists.  Fortunately just then some chicks
drove by and that defused the tension; Jake said something so filthy
that, bein' a Christian, I'd be ashamed to mention.  Back on the subject
of cunt again, Slate grabbed his crotch, and all of us laughed; later,
though, when we were alone, he really tore into my ass.

   "Thanks for comin' to my defense, bro."  "HEY!  Now what did I do?"
"Laughin' at me in front'a Jake.  I don't do that shit to you..."  I
looked at him crazy.  "Whaddya mean?  You're always callin' me queer!"
Slate wasn't even listenin' to me.  "I got cher queer right here."
---"Get a life, dude, and get cleaned up.  Now are we goin' to Sonic or
ain't we?"  Slater tensed and bit his lip and then ---hauled off and
shoved me!  An' man, it kind of sucks to admit it, since I'm S'POSED to
be so hot on my feet, but I stumbled backwards, lost my balance
and buckled down hard on one knee.  Slater lunged and got me in a
choke-hold 'round my neck, and the next thing I knew had my breath cut
off and his chest pressed up against my back.  I tried not to let the
feel of the strength in his sweaty forearms thrill me, tried to remember
that I was a stud, and not some fuckin' wussie. I tried not to let my
knees go weak, and slowly sink down to the floor, I tried not to look at
the awesome mound that was stretching out his gymshorts.

   I tried to scrabble back when he laughed and took a step right towards
me.  I tried not to look at his muscled chest or smell his sweaty body.
I tried to remember I fuckin' outWEIGHED him and not to feel so fuckin'
weak; I tried not to flush when he said "You're a QUEER..." and slapped
my fuckin' cheek.  He laughed and cupped his bulge.  "Don't lie.  You
been waitin' for this all day."  And he made me blush when I swallowed
and reached for his crotch and he slapped my hand away.  He pushed his
shorts down very slowly, smirking when I groaned.  "Whaddya think, Coop.
Let's call Jake?  He can watch you eatin' MY bone..."  Fuck!  He'd see me
leaning in, and easing Slater's cock out.  Fuck!!  He'd prob'ly vomit
when I took it in my mouth.  He'd go tell Craig and everyone
would think that I'd turned homo.  "Yeah go ahead, Coop.  LOOK at 'em,
fucker.  LOOK at my fuckin' pubes, bro."

   I did.  They pushed in a thatch above the waistband of his shorts,
and fuck ---my stomach fluttered when I saw the mass of thick black
curls.  I looked at Slate, then lowered my eyes to the bush I'd always
secretly envied.  Who was I kidding?  We both knew I'd suck his dick
now any time he'd let me.  Slate took my head and pulled me forward
awkwardly over the floor.  "Newsflash, Coop!  Now that Carrie is history
---YOU are gonna be my whore..."  Man, I should'a fuckin' slugged him,
talkin' trash like that, should'a lunged and hit him hard and knocked him
flat on his back.  Man, I should'a grabbed my cock and shoved it right in
his face:  "Yeah Slate.  Open up real wide now.  Fuuuck, you like
that taste?"  ...Instead, I let him drag my nose across his black and
sweaty pubes, let him press my mouth against his ripe and fleshy
cock-root.  My hands moved up his hairy calves and locked behind his
knees.  He laughed and pushed my face away.  "You want it, jockboy?"
"Pleeease?....."

   "Pull my shorts down!"  Fuck, I did it.  Fuck! his cock sprang up.
"Feel my muscles up real good, bitch ---THEN you get to suck..."  I
swallowed and let my treacherous hands crawl over his legs to the small
of his back, opened my mouth and kissed along the ridges of his
six-pack.  "That's right, Coop.  Yeah, use your tongue more.  Fuck, this
got you on hard?"  He laughed and I blushed.  "Yeah, that's what I
figured, MR FOOTBALL STAR..."  His cock brushed my cheek when I nodded my
head and its heat sent a chill right through me.  Then he pulled me off
and said, "Yeah, LOOK at my awesome body..."  He forced me back so I fell
on my haunches and held my head so I HAD to stare.  ALL of him, dudes,
his muscled legs, his chest, his arms, his jet-black hair...  His wicked
big nuts that had always impressed me, the way they made his jock bulge
out, were hangin' heavy and sweaty and less than a foot from my hungry
mouth.

   He grinned.  "Man, you should see your face, bro!  Guess some jocks
have all the luck!  All this solid MUSCLE, Coop?"  He tensed his
stomach.  "Fuuuck!!  ---Whaddya think, bro?  All those crunches, man...
They payin' off?"  His silky trail descended over every ridge and
trough.  I opened my mouth, and followed his trail with my eyes to his
pubes and his dick, and Slater was letting me look all I wanted, watching
me wet my lips.  A film of sweat overglazed his pecs and the skin on his
muscled forearms.  "Answer me, bro.  I asked you a question.  Don't be a
fuckin' moron."  ..."Yeah," I said, real slow.  "You're ripped, bud.  You
got the best abs in school."  "Yeah?  You think so?  Better than
Craigger's?"  I lied.  "No contest."  "Cooool..."

   Then he grinned and scratched his pubes and I watched his cock expand
real thick.  It hung down heavily over his balls.  It made my heart beat
quick.  "Bet you'd like to feel 'em, too, ---I mean, if I'd LET cha, huh,
bro?"  "Please, Slate?"  "Yeah, man, feelin' my abs like a FAGGOT, Coop,
---like a fuckin' HOMO!!"   Then he grinned and flexed and his cock boned
out a little harder.  "So why don't you bring that mouth over here and
lick my pack for starters?"  I started licking his abs like a bitch, and
the whole time my hands worked their way to his chest his cock was angled
down and stiff and pressed against my neck.  I felt his pulse in his
swollen dick 'cause he teased me and rubbed it against me, I cupped his
muscled pecs and pulled his nipples kinda roughly.  Maaan, HE started
moanin' then, and I worked on his chest like an all-star jock... pushin'
to make him lose control so he'd stuff my mouth with his fuckin' cock.

   Then he squatted down and flexed his bicep in my face.  "Lick it,
bro.  An' then I wanna hear how GOOD it tastes!"  Man I licked his arm
like none of his bitches ever did before.  And jock or not, I wanted it
bad, and didn't fight it anymore.  He lifted his arm a little and let me
see his dark wet pit, laughing when I moaned and tried to get my tongue
up in it.  Then he grabbed my hair and wiped that hairy pit all over me.
Dudes, in my whole fuckin' LIFE up till then I'd never been so horny.  I
licked and thought, Oh my god, what if Craig or Jake or Bren could see
me.  I almost came thinkin' how they would smirk and start to call me
Mary.  They'd slap my ass in the lockerroom and laugh 'cause I'd bone up,
they'd make me crawl around and sniff their dirty socks and cups.
They'd... Slater pushed my face away, then stood and jacked his cock real
slow, teasing it forward then pulling it back, seein' how far he could
go.

   I broke.  "Please, Slate?  I want it, man..."  "That right?  You hot
for my tool?"  He squeezed it lightly just under the crown to make that
baby drool.  A clear gob of precum leaked out his piss-slit and glistened
down the shaft; I moaned and stuck my fuckin' tongue out.  That made
Slater laugh.  "Niiiice, Coop.  ---Now let me hear one more time, how you
ain't really a homo?"  I blushed but didn't stop him when he brought his
cock to my mouth real slow.  Little by little my jaw muscles slackened as
Slater pushed inside.  "Fuckin' EH, bro!  That's the way!  ---Aw yeah,
man, open WIDE!!"  I almost went cross-eyed watching the length of his
meat as he slid it in, and I gagged a few times but he didn't stop till
he mashed his balls against my chin.  The drool on his shaft and
my spit got mixed up and got smeared on my puffy lips.  "Jesus, man.  You
should SEE yourself, dude!  You are SUCH a bitch!"   Then the smell of
his pubes and the feel of his cock in my throat started turnin'
me slutty.  "Aw yeah, Coop!  AWW yeah...  FUCK Carrie.  You suck waaay
better, buddy..."

   That's 'cause I'm a fuckin' CHAMP, I thought, bobbin' down on his pole
---riskin' the half on a touchdown instead of just playin' it safe with a
field goal.  Slater wanted a blowjob?  Fine.  I was JUST the tough jock
to supply it.  All jocks think about suckin' dick, bros.  I had the balls
to try it.  Maaan, he pumped my throat real good, too, not so rough yet,
but really firm, holding the back of my neck with his hand till I started
to cough and squirm.  He pulled it out.  "That too much for ya?"
"Shiiiit... that all you got?"  Slater slapped my face again.  He looked
so fucking hot.  Fuck, his dick was throbbin' too, with that jolt you get
when you connect ---whether you're on the forty-yard line or circling the
sweaty mat.  His eyes had like narrowed, his legs had gone tense and he
swore when I reached up to fist it, and ---ha! I thought his knees would
fail when I leaned in... and actually kissed it...

   He wiped his forehead and sweat dripped down and wet my face and
hair.  It made me hot, yeah, puss-lovin' jockboy, actin' totally queer.
 My other hand crawled back to his torso, Slater scratched himself and
stretched; I licked up the shaft to the fuckin' HEAD, dudes, and all I
could smell was his sex.  "Damn, that's a beauty, huh?  Look at it
throbbin', bro!  Dude!  Like I said, you are one lucky fuck!  ...Damn,
Coop, if I was a faggot like you I would LOOOVE havin' a dick like this
to suck!"  "Yeah... you do, Slate...you got a real nice one...  It gets
so... awesome thick...."  He tensed his groin and made it drool more
precum out the tip.  His juice leaked out like liquid diamonds, all I
could smell was Slate and sweat.  It oozed along the vein till half his
swollen shaft was wet.

     "Blow on me, Slater."  "Fuuuck...."  "Come on, man.  Sperm my
fuckin' face."  Slater laughed a second.  "Yeah, dude.  Keep you in your
PLACE!..."  "That what you want, bud?" ---fuck, I teased him.  "Treat me
like a WHORE?" reachin' out and whippin' some heavy strokin' on him some
more.  "Treat me like you did Beth Ann when you made her get into the
back seat?"  I'd watched them in the rear-view mirror... my hand all
wet on his throbbing meat...  I'd heard her say "noooo" and his zipper
unzippin' and Slater pulled his cock out.  "Either I get a handjob,
bitch, or you can just get out."  I heard some snifflin' then a sort
of quiet squishy sound; Donna was AWESOME, running her fingernails over
my bulgin' mound.  Then I heard this gasp and "yeeeahh!" and Beth Ann
goin' "oooooh," looked in the mirror again and saw her hand all full of
goo...  "Remember that, bro?  How you treated her, Slater?  Just like...
yer makin' me now?..."  I kept on fisting him slow and aiming him towards
my open mouth...

   That was the trigger, dudes; Slater arched his back and his cock went
off, spattering my face with all his thick Red Devil cream sauce!  "Holy
fuck I'm gonna...  holy... COOP!! ---you gotta stoooppp..."  I gripped
his pole and felt the juice explode in jets when he popped.  Three big
fuckin' ropes of cum shot out and drenched my face.  I licked what leaked
down over my lips... pervin' out on the taste.  I could feel it dripping
down my cheek and the side of my nose.  I started hyperventilating and
everything in me froze.  Except my dick.  My dick was boiling.  I died
and came right in my shorts.  Even when he shot again I only wanted
more.

   He moaned and pulled my hand away and pushed his dick right in my
mouth; it seemed the more I sucked the more his jizz kept leakin'
OUT.  He smeared it over my tongue and, man, I ate it and tasted my
buddy's nut.  "Like that huh?  I got more, bro.  You fuckin' lucky
slut!!  Yeah!... yeah SWALLOW... TAKE it Coop!... yeah, COME on, little
whore..."  Later I lay in bed by myself, my throat all used and sore.  He
grabbed the back of my neck and shoved his cock hard deep in my throat,
laughing when I tried to pull off and couldn't, and started to choke.  He
pulled back a little, but soon as I could breathe he pushed it back in...
football jock with a throat full of cock and another dude's BALLS against
his chin...  In and out, bros, in and out, usin' my mouth like a
cheerleader's puss.  I was still hard, and my eyes kept makin' me moan
from the sight of his jet-black bush.  He fucked my throat real slowly
till his boner started goin' down, listening while I worked his cock
around my little slurping sounds...  I kept Slate's tool in my throat and
mouth till he was completely drained.  I was his little bitch cocksucker
now...  Outside it'd started to rain...

   We went to Sonic anyway, after we got cleaned up.  Slater made that
joke again, about me keepin' my strength up.  We hung out awhile and
ended up givin' two guys that we knew a ride home.  I had a stomach full
of jizz and fries... and another bone.  It was only nine, but I went up
to bed, and besides, I had work in the morning.  I even jacked off AGAIN
---but STILL tossed and turned, I was so damn horny...



to be continued...