Date: Fri, 25 Feb 2005 10:00:57 -0500
From: David Coffen <david.coffen@gmail.com>
Subject: The Wrestler Part One

Disclaimer: This story involves sex with two teenage boys. If you
don't like these kinds of stories, then don't read it. It's not
real. Since this is a story, they don't have safe sex. Don't be
foolish and play around, be safe.

Please visit my brand new website housing all of my stories, most
of which haven't been posted at nifty. You can also contact me at:
david.coffen@gmail.com. Please don't email me at me old address
(coder3546@yahoo.com), as I don't use that account anymore.

Website: http://www.daveseroticstories.com

Dirty Boy - Part One


     God! What a gorgeous Saturday afternoon. I was on my weekly
jog through my neighborhood. It was the summer of my junior year.
Next year would be my last, this sadden me for many reasons. It
was a blazingly hot July afternoon, the sun casting no shadows.
This is what I did every Saturday afternoon. Just to get a look at
him. His name was Brett. Man was he hot! He was a wrestler. I
remember sitting on the top bench of the bleachers last year,
watching him rolling around on the mat with other hot teenage
boys, in next to nothing. I always wanted to smell his singlet
after he had a hard night of wrestling.

Well, it just so happens that he lives down the street. And every
Saturday afternoon through summer he is out in the hot sun, body
glistening with sweat, mowing the lawn. Every Saturday, I always
pretended to be on my jog. I usually make it around the block a
few times before I get dead tired. See, I'm not the kind of guy to
make friends very well; I'm usually shy and bashful, especially
around some guy that I think is hot. I just get tongue tied. I was
a pretty good looking guy, sandy dark blond hair, nice build, flat
chested, almost hairless.

I started to jog down the sidewalk, my sneakers snapping against
the hot concrete. I picked up my speed, and rounded the bend.
There he was!  He had his lawnmower tipped up and was looking
underneath it. I slowed down to a fast walk. I walked by and he
looked up

"Hey...  Uhh... Dave right? He yelled out. I stopped immediately
and froze.

"Yeah..?" I said.

"Can you come help me with this?" He said.

I casually walked over to him. He had on thin red shorts and a
ratted old tank top.

"You know anything about lawnmowers?" He asked when I squatted
down next to him.

"Oh... a little bit, what happened?"

"Well, it just started smoking and it quit."

I looked over the lawnmower, the solution was quite obvious. The
shoot where the grass is thrown out was completely clogged with
wet grass. I pushed the wet grass out of the shoot and looked
over. I have him a big smile.

"That's all?" He asked.

"Yep." I said. He blushed and grinned, his teeth sparkling from
the hot sun above.

"Well, I feel pretty stupid." He said looking down at the ground.
I couldn't believe I was having this effect on him. At school he
was a bad-ass ripped wrestling man. At home, he was normal. While
he was looking down at the ground I got a quick look at his bulge
in his damp red shorts. From squatting down the thin red material
was stretched over his large dick.

"Don't feel stupid" I said "now you know."

"I needed a break anyway, I just got home from a killer wrestling
match." He said. "Hey, why don't you come inside and wash your
hands, and I will make us some fresh drinks.

"Uhh... sure" I said.

I followed him inside, watching his tight ass through the wet
material. Man stink just flooded off of him. God he smelled good!

"The bathroom is this way..." He said, leading me down a hallway
to the end of the house. We arrived at his bedroom. Wrestling
trophies everywhere. It was a comfortable room.

"So you're a big wrestler huh?" I said.

"How can you tell" He turned smiling. "I've see you at a few of my
games. Why don't you wrestle?"

I stuttered "Yeah... I've been to a few. Actually I just have been
scoping it out for next year."

"You should join; I bet you would be good." He said.

"Thanks, I'll have to think about it. I thought you said that you
had a wrestling match. It's summer?"

"Yeah, I get to wrestle state wide. They have competitions in the
summer."

"Cool". I said. He led me through another door into his own personal bathroom.

"Here is the bathroom." He said "Get cleaned up and I will make us
some fresh lemonade."

"Sounds good, thanks"

"No problem." He said, and walked out of the room.

I walked into the bathroom and closed the door; I went over to the
sink and washed my hands. I glanced up into the mirror and saw a
hamper with a bright red singlet hanging over the side. I got
butterflies in my stomach. I quickly dried my hands and went over
to the hamper. I lifted up the singlet by the shoulder straps. It
was damp to the touch. He must sweat a lot! I could probably still
wring it out. I looked down to where the thin spandex singlet held
his cock. It was stretched out, and darker than the rest of the
areas. His balls must really sweat. It was so raunchy it was
discolored. I brought the cock pouch up to my nose and sniffed
deeply. Fuck! The smell was so intense; my head started spinning
in circles. My legs started to buckle and I had to sat down on the
toilet. My cock sprang to life. I turned the singlet inside out,
the pouch where it held his hot man meat, was even darker and
raunchier on the inside than out! There were a few light colored
pubes stuck to the material. I licked the soiled material, getting
all of the pubes. What a taste! My mouth buzzed with new flavors.
I started rubbing my hard cock through my shorts.

There was a knock on the door...

"Are you ok in there?" Brett said through the door. I froze, not
able to speak. A few seconds passed.

"I'm coming in."  He said. I knew it. I had been caught. "Oh god,
what's he going to do?" I thought.

The door slowly opened and Brett stuck his head in. He saw me in
the mirror with his wrestling suit sitting on my lap.

"What the hell are you doing?" Brett said, confused. I still
couldn't move, my face burning hot.


THE END (of part One)

Copyright 2005, David Coffen, http://www.daveseroticstories.com