Date: Fri, 16 Jul 2004 03:57:44 +0000
From: Collage Maker <collagemaker@hotmail.com>
Subject: Wrestler's Tail - Part 2

Wrestler's Tail
By Collage Maker

Part 2


Jarrod sat up first, looking down at his teammate, the naked body gleaming
with sweat and cum, just admiring the man he had fucked with. His eyes
traveled over the solid legs, the tight abdomen, the firm, sculpted chest
and strong shoulders, the large, flaccid penis and well defined scrotum
nestling in brown curly hair. Why hadn't he noticed how damned beautiful
Brant's body was? Brant opened his eyes, shadowed beyond their normal
sparkling hazel. There was speculation in that gaze, Jarrod thought. He
could almost see Brant imagining what it'd be like if the tables were
turned, and Jarrod was wondering the same thing. He could feel himself
hardening quickly as the need to fuck grew in his mind again.

As Brant's eyes traveled over Jarrod, his tongue managed to flick out and
lick at suddenly parched lips hungrily, eyes taking in the magnificent sight
of Jarrod's dick already erect and standing from its base of downy blonde
curls. Jarrod grinned as he saw the lustful look Brant was giving him, gave
a pointed look at Brant's own crotch. Brant's manhood was hardening with
arousal as it came back to life.

"Wanna do it again, Brant? You ready for my fuck?"

Brant's long, thick cock rose like the main mast on a tall ship. He rose to
his feet in one fluid motion. His cock slapped against his ridged abdomen.

"Get up, dude," Brant said softly. "My turn now."

"What the fuck!?" Jarrod scrambled to his feet. "Are you fantasizing about
fucking me, buddy?"

"Yes, Jarrod, I'm going to fuck you."

"No - I don't do that."

"Come on, stud," Brant said. "You've had your turn and now it's mine."

"Well, I've got a better idea. I want my cock back up your tight ass."

"Turnabout's fair play, bro. I don't want the bitch role. I want us to be
equals."

Jarrod snorted scornfully. "I do believe I won the fight...which makes me
the better man, wouldn't you agree?"

Brant tensed. "I challenge you to a wrestling match," he stated quietly,
looking directly into Jarrod's eyes. "You game?"

Jarrod scrutinized him for a long moment, then gave a curt nod. "Winner take
all?"

"Of course, buddy. Loser gets fucked."

"OK, buddy, let's wrestle."

Jarrod hunkered down in wrestling position, ready to lock up with Brant.
Brant did the same. They approached each other, got their hands on each
other's shoulders, Brant slipped his hand behind Jarrod's neck, and they
started to circle each other. Brant shot his hand out, catching Jarrod
behind the knee, and pulled up, toppling Jarrod back. Brant landed on top of
Jarrod, swung around, catching Jarrod in a deep crotch hold, trying to
cradle Jarrod up into a fast pin. But Jarrod managed to bridge back,
preventing Brant from getting the shoulders down, got one arm around Brant's
neck, slipped the other arm through his legs, and rolled Brant over on his
back. Now Jarrod was close to pinning Brant, but Brant rolled through, and
away from him. Brant stood up, ready to lock up again.

The two men circled each other again, gauging where to strike. Jarrod made
the first move, catching Brant in a headlock that Brant immediately broke
out of. Then Brant grabbed Jarrod around the waist and executed a
belly-to-belly suplex, from which Jarrod rolled to his feet without missing
a beat. They grappled at each other pulling, pushing, each trying to
unbalance the other and bring him to the mat. Thus, things went for the next
few minutes, each mounting an offense from which his opponent managed to
escape. Their breathing labored as they tried unsuccessfully to take each
other by surprise, cinch in holds that the other quickly freed himself from.
Every time one of them locked on a hold the other found a counter, or
slipped out of his grasp. They made a sensual pair, both grunting with
effort as their naked bodies, rippling, bulging and gleaming with heavy
muscle, coiled around each other in the intense fight.

Their sweat poured down their naked bodies in streams. As they grappled,
they lost all consciousness of time and place. Nothing mattered any longer
but the elemental ferocity of their fight: the harsh breathing, the
straining muscles, the grunting clash of bodies. Finally Brant tried to bend
Jarrod low so Jarrod would think he was trying to force the struggle on the
floor. But instead Brant quickly untangled an arm and slipped it under
Jarrod's leg, heaved him up off his feet and Jarrod crashed on the mat.

Brant dropped to his knees at Jarrod's left side, clamping his right arm
tight about Jarrod's neck and pulling upward and backward. Choking in the
headlock, Jarrod reared up, lashing out uselessly with his hands and trying
to rise to his feet. Rising with him as Jarrod did so, Brant released the
hold, but in the same instant seized the back of Jarrod's neck with both
hands and thrust him suddenly and violently downward. The momentum of
Jarrod's own movements added to the brutal force with which his forehead hit
the mat. For a moment Jarrod was dazed. Swiftly Brant turned in his standing
position and dropped down to seat himself comfortably on the small of
Jarrod's back.

Leaning forward, Brant slid his hands along the muscled ridge of Jarrod's
thighs, then down to hook them underneath the outstretched legs just above
the knees. A strong sharp upward tug, and Jarrod's legs were in the air, his
body beginning to fold in two at the waist, caught in a Boston crab, the
pressure on his spine reaching crisis point. With a cry Jarrod began to kick
and squirm, raising himself on his hands in a vain attempt to shake Brant
off, trying to alter the cruel angle at which his body was bending and ease
the pain. There was nothing he could do. Brant was leaning far back now, his
legs were trapped tight under Jarrod's armpits, there was nowhere for Jarrod
to go. Further and further back Brant leaned, till it seemed that at any
second he would hear Jarrod's spine snap. He was screaming now, but still
struggling, still instinctively resisting with all the courage and refusal
to surrender that were the hallmarks of the true wrestler. But Brant had
him.

"Come on, Jarrod, give it up!" Brant grunted through clenched teeth. "It's
all over now. Give it up like a good boy and tell me I'm the better man."
"Go...to...Hell!" was the only reply. Jarrod tightened the hold still
further. The sweat was dripping off him on to his prostrate opponent,
mingling with Jarrod's own. Jarrod's breathing was harsh and agonized.

"Hey Jarrod, you know, you'd better give it up before you really get hurt
here. All ya gotta do is say one little word and it'll all be over. One
little word, Jarrod - just tell me you submit." No reply. Instead, Brant
felt Jarrod's body heaving and straining beneath him, making one last
supreme effort to escape. As Jarrod raised himself one last time underneath
him, Brant made sure that Jarrod's legs were securely held under his arms
and then threw himself backward, stretching out to his full six-foot plus
and bending Jarrod's back towards a right angle. The force of the move was
too much for Jarrod. "Yes! Yes! Yes!" he screamed. "I submit! God damn and
fuck you to hell, I submit!" Brant released his legs, and rolled off him to
one side.

Several minutes passed before Brant sat up. His gaze travelled slowly over
every visible inch of the long, muscled body stretched out at full length
before him. Jarrod lay there on his front, still gasping for breath, showing
his tight ass, broad back and muscular legs. The taut, perfect asscheeks
beckoned Brant on, and his cock swelled as he imagined plowing them. For
moments Brant sat there, enjoying the feeling of total control, savoring the
knowledge of what he was about to do. Then he was kneading the muscular
half-moon of Jarrod's butt, his hands grasping and ungrasping the taut
globes of smooth, assflesh pointing up at him, pushing them apart to reveal
the deep valley and the tiny puckered opening. Finally he grabbed Jarrod by
the shoulders and pushed him over onto his back.

Jarrod looked up at Brant resentfully. "Looks like you lost," Brant said.

"Yeah." Jarrod's eyes moved over Brant's naked, gleaming, muscled flesh,
before stopping at the cock raging and jutting out at him. He felt a shot of
heat run through his groin at the sight of his aroused friend. "Fuck--"

"Exactly, Jarrod. I'm going to fuck you."

Brant spat in his hand and rubbed the warm saliva around his now massive
dick. Jarrod lay on the floor, knowing he was about to get the bejesus
fucked out of him. Moving into place between the thighs of the other man,
Brant hooked Jarrod's long, strong legs over his beefy shoulders. He leaned
over Jarrod, bending Jarrod double, bracing himself on one hand. Using his
other hand, Brant lined up his steel hard rod with Jarrod's sweat slicked
hole. Jarrod saw Brant aim that pipe to his chute and closed his eyes.

"Time to fuck," Brant said. Catching his breath, he pushed forward. The
blond wrestler's sphincter resisted. Brant continued to push. He could have
used his fingers to loosen Jarrod up, but he wanted to feel the hole at its
tightest gripping his length.

Pushing forward more, Brant felt the muscle slip, and all at once the
swollen tip of his cock slid in. Jarrod's eyes widened with shock at the
initial pain as Brant eased a short distance inside him, the shaft moving
forward slowly. Jarrod's pained gasp signaled his body's instinctual
reluctance to admit entry.

Brant hissed as he forced his long, thick cock through the tight ring of
muscle. He couldn't believe how tight it was. That butt-hole felt so good
welcoming him in, he wanted to enjoy the sensation to the fullest. Staring
down where their flesh met and became one, still guiding himself with one
hand, he watched inch after inch of his thick cock penetrate the hot channel
of the other's rectum, gripped in a heated satiny vise. Brant was rock hard,
his cock weeping copiously as he pushed into that tight, tight ass, feeling
Jarrod's body quivering beneath him. The feel of Jarrod's slick inner walls
clamping down ever more tightly around his shaft was such pure bliss, it was
almost enough to make Brant scream. He thrust forward, slowly but still
firmly, determined and undeniable, until he was fully sheathed inside of his
teammate.

His sinewy thighs pinned back, Jarrod felt Brant's weight settle into
place."Ahhh, so good," Brant groaned, his cock buried in Jarrod's gripping
channel. Jarrod was so tight and hot. Brant paused for a moment, letting
their bodies adjust, forcing himself not to come. After his breathing
returned to normal, Brant slowly withdrew to the head, then pushed his dick
back into Jarrod, sliding it in all the way until his low-slung balls rested
on Jarrod's asscheeks. Shifting his hips he began a slow, deep thrusting
motion into Jarrod's tight hole so that on every plunge the thick head of
his cock glided over the other man's prostate.

For the next ten minutes the center of Brant's existence was his hard dick,
plunging in and out of his friend's asshole. Both men grunted, one with the
effort of thrusting, the other with the incredible feeling of being filled,
co-mingled pain and pleasure. Brant watched his thick column of
blood-engorged flesh being squeezed by the tight ring of Jarrod's anus.
Meanwhile, Jarrod registered each rough inch of Brant's sizzling glides. He
felt Brant poke into that nub of a spot deep in his body. Action begot
reaction. Pleasure ripped through Jarrod's veins, causing him to buck
violently, as Brant's hard shaft continued to poke at his sensitive gland.
Soon Jarrod's cock was taut against his sweat-slicked six-pack, each bulging
vein clearly delineated.

Jarrod's legs dropped heavily from Brant's shoulders, knees spread, feet
flat on the floor, as Brant continued the slow pumping action inside of him,
engorged cock penetrating to the hilt. Brant shifted his movements again so
that he drove straight through the heart of Jarrod. He pierced the other
wrestler with his driving lust, sparking mind-numbing pleasure inside Jarrod
again and again, causing Jarrod's cock to twitch violently as it now was
rubbed between two well-muscled stomachs. Jarrod moaned and panted as Brant
claimed him, intertwining their legs, thrusting his hyper-engorged,
steel-hard cock against Brant's hard flat abs.

Long-muscled legs slid over each other; sculpted, sweat covered chests
pressed close; the room lights picked up glistening skin flexing over
hard-packed muscles as their bodies writhed together in unbridled passion.
Jarrod's cock, throbbing between their tight bodies, was rubbed with
increasing friction against Brant's hard abdomen. Jarrod scissored his
powerful legs around Brant's muscular waist, bringing his hips up to meet
each thrust, his strong fingers digging into Brant's sweaty shoulders, using
their abs for masturbation, loving the feeling of the two sets of rippling
stomach muscles on either side of his dick. Burying himself to the hilt and
grinding their hips together for a few minutes, Brant used every bit of
strength he had to fight off Jarrod's legs as they tightened around him
urging him to go faster, before beginning to thrust in and out again in slow
strokes. Biting his lip with the effort to keep up the slow pace, torn
between wanting to lift Jarrod's legs heavenward and pound away inside his
teammate, and wanting it to last as long as possible.

Soon, nothing existed but their sweat-soaked skin sliding together and
Brant's cock searing liquid fire in Jarrod's ass, accompanied by their
grunts and groans and whimpers. Jarrod held Brant's body tighter with his
strong legs and planted his hands on Brant's firm ass, pulling Brant in
deeper, overwhelmed by the pleasure, by the decadence, by the base quality
of Brant's skin on his skin as he felt Brant dive deep inside of him.
Strength and virility were boiling in their veins. Groaning, grunting and
thrusting their hips at each other, long rough growls escaped from their
throats. They rammed their tongues into each other's mouth, roughly, raping
the other's mouth, breathing into each other, both men moaning into the
kiss. Then they broke the kiss, gasping for air desperately.

Brant increased the speed and intensity of his fucking, strokes growing
savage. He drove his spearing masculinity into this handsome idol of the gym
with whom he had experienced the first man-to-man fuck of his life, felt his
hard dick pump the shithole of this blond hero of the wrestling mat whose
big cock had slid in and out of his own ass. He felt more vibrant, more
alive, than he'd ever felt in his life. It was too good to last, his body
was already rushing ahead of him towards the dizzying cliff of orgasm.

He fucked into Jarrod with crazy, wild abandon, thrusting into Jarrod over
and over at a bone-jarring pace. He was roughly rubbing against Jarrod and
Jarrod returned every thrust, Jarrod's cock fucking Brant's abs as Brant
slid and bucked and ground into his teammate, the two of them grunting
loudly at each other, voices rising to loud, rough, deep, growl-moans. Their
sexual heat came boiling to the surface.

Brant clamped his mouth down on Jarrod's, grinding his cock deep into Jarrod
again and again, crushing Jarrod more firmly into the yielding mat. They
kissed, tongues lashing out at each other in a different kind of wrestling
match, until finally Brant could stand it no longer and he roared into
Jarrod's mouth. The blond tensed as Brant shot within him, detonating with a
string of possessive growls, spraying jet after jet of cream, coating the
inside of Jarrod's tight passage.

Jarrod felt Brant spasm within him, Brant's hotness flood his hole. He
arched as the wild heat caused by each of Brant's movements intensified on
his dick, pressured between his body and Brant's. The friction as six-packed
abs slid up and down the velvety thickness of his cock was sublime, and he
lost all control. "Brant...ohhh fuck..." Jarrod gasped as his cock exploded.
Lips curved upwards in a smile of pure pleasure, he convulsively spurted his
hot white muscleboy jizz between their sweating, sliding bodies. The two
youths growled their ecstasy, their bodies locked, shining with sweat, their
muscles hard, cum and sweat mixing between them. They clung to each other,
every muscle trembling and shuddering with each delicious wave of sensation
coursing through every fiber, savoring the exquisite spasms of their dicks,
relishing the feel, smell, taste, sound and sight of their lust-crazed
bodies. Their naked bodies wracked with jerks and spasms as they played out
the last of their cum drained balls, and their mouths locked again,
desperate to prolong their Herculean orgasms as they felt them begin to ebb.
Even after their cum had stopped, they still moved together, unable to give
up the powerful feelings, causing the viscous mess to smear between their
trembling bodies.

At last, they released each other, rolled apart, sat up again.

Brant whispered, "How was that, buddy?"

"Fucking awesome!!" was all that Jarrod could get his lips to say.

Brant said, "Think we gotta have a few more private practices like this.
Winner take all."

Jarrod just grinned and nodded once, then said, "About time we showered and
got out of here." He stood on slightly shaky knees.

Brant nodded too and stood then. The two looked at one another for a moment
of silent understanding. There was a magnetism between them, a very strong
physical attraction, a feeling of closeness with each other that overwhelmed
them. Jarrod opened his arms, pulling Brant's rugged, sweat covered torso to
his own brawny frame, wrapping his arms around Brant's broad shoulders. They
began to kiss with unfathomable recesses of passion, gripping each other
tightly, their muscular bodies entwined.