Catfish and the Wrestlers 6
by Bald Hairy Man
This is a story about gay men and gay sex. If you don't like that DON'T read it. You have been warned. It is intended for adults to read, not for minors. It is a fantasy, not a sex manual. No effort to portray safe sex practices has been made. If you have any comments send them to bldhrymn@yahoo.com or bldhrymn@aol.com.
We had a nice time at the camp, but were off to Buffalo for the next show. Here we were signed up for a public match at an arena and then were going to have a private event at a gym. The public one would be with Ali and Buster alone. It was advertized as a wrestling greats event, so they were on a bill with several other older wrestlers. We weren't sure what the private event would be like; Lenny had made the arrangements and he was gone.
Nigel was out of the hospital and joined us. Of course he couldn't wrestle, but he lived alone and Buster thought he would be better with us, where we could watch him and help when needed. He was a good man and I became his baby sitter, with Greg backing me up.
Nigel wanted to do as much for himself as he could, so he wasn't a problem. Ali and Buster had a long conversation with the Dr. Max. There was little or no permanent brain damage, but it would be good to get him into a normal routine as soon as possible. Real wrestling was out of the question for a while, but moderate exercise would be fine. Getting him to do normal things was good. Max said he would visit us in Buffalo and check up on Nigel. Ali told me Max also wanted to see me again, if I was willing. I told Ali I was more than willing.
In Buffalo we stayed in a Bed & Breakfast run by the pals of the Gym owner. They had a renovated carriage house to the rear. It was like an apartment with a living room and three bedrooms, each with two or three beds, so our entire crew could stay there. I think the two men who ran the place were uneasy when the saw all of us, but Buster runs a tight ship and there was no problem. The three wrestler's, Greg, Marty, Gustavo, Dusty and me made for a full house.
Ken, one of the owner's had been a nurse and took Nigel on as a project. Nigel was maybe 85-90% back, but there were little problems with things like holding a spoon. Nigel was always polite and well mannered and got along well with the owners and the other guests. We were near a hospital and some of the guests were visiting family there. Nigel's massive injury and good recovery seemed to cheer them.
Ken made fancy, gourmet style breakfasts. He was worried they were too delicate for our group. Buster told him they were fine. There was no need to do anything special. All in all it was good. The match was in a big Colosseum like place and we didn't have to do anything. There was a rehearsal the day before the event. Buster and Ali were in better shape than many of the old timers and they would be the stars of the event.
Buster ran into an old friend there, Wolfman Kelly. Wolfman had fallen on hard times and was sleeping in his van. Buster brought him to the carriage house. It was obvious Wolfman had a problem with booze. Ali said he was on the wagon, but a night in a van was a recipe for backsliding. When he arrived he was in full wrestler attitude.
Buster told him we were just men here, not wrestlers and to drop the Wolfman persona. This event was important to Wolfman. He hoped to make a comeback. While he would never be a big star again, he might get some matches. He was still well known and he hoped he could get some advertising gigs for car dealers if he could put in a respectable performance.
I talked with him for a while. "My real name is Mike Kelly, but I've been playing Wolfman so long, I'm not really sure what acting normal is anymore," he said. "If I get out of line could you nudge me a little. I don't want to disappoint Buster and Ali. They've been good to me." We talked for a while and he relaxed. Wolfman was popular in the eighty's and early ninety's. Then he began to slip badly. I asked him what happened.
"I got hurt, but that wasn't the real problem. We had this guy who slipped me pain killers to keep me going," Wolfman explained. "Well, some were pain killers and some were other things. I thought he was a friend. To tell you the truth, I didn't know what I was doing. They tell me I was erratic and violent, but I was out of my mind. I was stupid, but it happened to several other guys. Do you remember Spike and Johnny the Hammer?"
"They died of overdoses, didn't they?"
"Yep, that was them, one suicide and one overdose. The guy who slipped me the drugs took care of them too."
"What is the name of the guy?" I asked.
"Johnny. His name was Johnny Knight," Wolfman replied. "He worked for a group called Rasslin' Rage Productions. Apparently they slipped stuff to a lot of guys. It made for a better show when a guy was zonked out of his mind."
"Are they still doing that sort of shit?" I asked.
"They are out of business, but there is a replacement group," Wolfman continued. "I think it called Rasslin FX." A little later, I called Smitty and told him about Rasslin FX and Rasslin Rage Productions. He said he's check them out. He also said he'd check out Spike and Johnny the Hammer's deaths.
Wolfman was in good shape. He had been working out. Like Gorilla Man Gus, his shaggy pelt gave him his nick name. He was tall and lean, what would now be called an otter. When you saw him Wolf man seemed appropriate. He had been one of Buster's playmates years before.
They weren't exactly lovers, but they were way more than casual tricks. Wolfman tended to make bad choices. I think he would have been fine if he had Buster to guide him. After the rehearsal, the group went to dinner, but Wolfman came back to the carriage house. Nigel and I were there. Nigel got easily tired and was sleeping. I wanted to make sure the exhaustion was natural not brain related.
Wolfman took a shower and joined me. It was summer, Buffalo was hot and the carriage house wasn't air conditioned, I was naked and when Wolfman saw me he got interested.
"Everyone here seems to like you a lot," he said. "I thought it was your personality. You've got a Smithsonian exhibit hanging between you legs. It's the Hope Diamond of cocks."
"It's not that big!" I replied.
"It's big enough. It's not just the size, it's the whole package," he continued. "Are you the shy type?"
"Not at all."
Wolfman swallowed my cock inn one gulp. I was soft, so he could do it. Wolfman was a nice old fashioned cock hound. He spent the next fifteen minutes in pure cock worship.
"Do you like the cream?" I asked.
"Shit yes, I'm a cum hound," he replied, "Let go anytime you want. I promise you none will be wasted. Do you want to suck?"
"I usually like to top," I replied.
"Can you let me suck you off now?" Wolfman asked, "You can fuck me later." That was fine with me.
I like cum hounds. You can relax knowing they will take whatever shoots or drools from your cock. They are also neat. There's no sticky sperm to clean up and I guessed Wolfman would drain me so there would be no post orgasmic drool.
Wolfman sucked me through two orgasms, and was true to his word. Not a drop escaped his greedy mouth. He was still sucking when the others returned from dinner. We broke up and he serviced Ali while Buster fucked him. That was a pretty sight.
Nigel woke up and I took him and Wolfman out to eat, my treat. Wolfman was literally down to pocket change until he got paid for the match.
Dr. Max arrived the next morning and took charge of Nigel. Gorilla Man was going to be introduced at the match so Dr. Max and the wrestlers went to the arena, while the rest of us went to the gym to set up for the next day's event.
The gym occupied an abandoned super market. Exercise machines occupied the front of the gym, a wall separated it from a large aerobic area and the shower rooms to the rear. Everything was pretty basic, but the shower room, whirlpool and steam room were up to date and fancy. There were twenty men exercising and no women. There was a small woman's locker room, but it was a men's gym for all practical purposes.
I knew the main attraction of the gym was the shower and steam room. This was that rare institution, a gay friendly gym. As such it had a large membership and members paid a premium to join. The members chipped in for Buster and Ali to do some wrestling instruction. Bob, the owner, said one of their members had been to one of Buster's wrestling events. He had volunteered to wrestle with them. He had lost the match and greatly enjoyed the aftermath.
The aerobic room was simple and we needed to set it up with a ring and lights. That took a few hours. We met many club members. They were all excited about the next day's exhibition. The word was out. Many of them were impressive specimens, but they weren't all shaved twinks. We weren't exactly their types, but they were polite. I've been to a few gay bars where the clientele seemed to be afraid they might catch something. When we finished, Bob told us to use the showers and steam room.
You might not believe this, but gay guys sometimes get more friendly when you're naked. Greg and Dusty had received some looks of interest immediately. Greg was tall, thin and good looking; Dusty had a nice, "aw shucks" country boy look to him. Marty and I were more problematic. Marty could have been Gorilla Man if Nigel hadn't already taken the name. I had what a friend of mine called a "Redneck Baroque" style, with a Fu Manchu mustache and my 100% Walmart wardrobe.
Bob joined us in the showers, his partner Dale took over the evening shift. I think the word was out that there were new men in the shower, there were two guys in the shower when we went in and a good ten when we left. One man, who I had seen dressing after his shower, decided to take a second one.
After the shower, Greg and Dusty held court in the whirlpool. Marty and I went for the gold and tried out the steam room. Luckily in the gay universe packing big meat trumps ugly. Marty had a down to earth Brooklyn attitude toward life combined with a good sense of humor. His cock was massive rather than long, but if you liked beer can cocks, he was your man. My cock took care of sales for me.
Things were slow at first. There was a lot of looking but no action. We were on the verge of having some fun when Bob entered the steam room. I assumed no one played when the manager was there. Bob came in, looked at me and bent over to suck my meat. Several men almost sighed in relief. Bob seemed like a straight arrow when I first met him, but size queens have a hard time resisting monster meat.
The room divided into two groups, one centered on Marty and one on me. I felt out the men on each side of me. One got up a straddled my face so I had something to suck on. The other got rock had and shot off. He left, but there were others willing to take his place.
"Is that cock as tasty as it is pretty?" a man asked Bob.
"It's high quality ball brew," Bob answered. "Do you want to sample it?"
"Shit yes!" the man replied.
The man I was sucking shot off. I took a few spurts, but he shot the rest on my hairy chest. Bob asked me if I minded if he shared.
"Not at all," I said. "I've never run out of home brew, so if he wants to milk it, it's fine with me. I need to warn you, I sometimes shoot off unexpectedly. If you don't like cream, you might avoid the spigot."
"No problem," the man said. "No problem at all."
"If anyone wants cream now, that guy just shot a load on my chest," I said. "It's available now."
A man who had been sitting in the corner came over to lick it up. Bob turned the heat back and we had a nice half hour of fun. No one was standoffish at all. The steam was thick, but not too hot, so it was an all cock event. Five or six men got to sample my cock and I must have sucked as many. I held my cream, but most of then men I sucked didn't. My face, beard and chest were coated in cum. I don't mind taking cum, but 10 to 12 men is over my limit. I had no problem letting them shoot on me. I was messy, but that didn't seem to affect my appeal.
Most men tried out Marty and me. Marty liked cream more than I did and was in hog heaven,
The men in the stream room were all regulars who knew each other well. My sperm coating was a turn on. Sucking me as their buds' cream dribbled down my body was a treat. I think most took a lick or two of the drooling cum. Two men were really interested. The quiet man in the corner and Bob. Bob was an ordinary looking man, pale and of average height. He was nicely hung, I guess you would say he was in the high side of average.
The men in the room seemed to have short fuses and eventually it was just Bob, me and the shy guy in the room.
"You're doing a great job there, what's your name?" I asked the man.
"Jimmy," he said. He had a stutter.
"Jimmy's one of our most regular members," Bob said. "He's here every day like clock work."
"You have a great body," I said as I felt his biceps. "All of you looks good."
"Thanks mister," he replied.
"Are you a top?" Bob asked.
"If there's a bottom in the room I am."
"I guess you could say I have an itch in a hard to reach place," Bob replied. "Jimmy's a top too."
"This could work out well for all of us, if you like taking it doggy style," I said. "Jimmy, would you like to rear end me as I scratch Bob's itch?"
that seemed to hit the spot with all of us. Bob was tight but willing. Jimmy shot off the second he entered my ass, but he stayed hard and continued to screw me. Both men were about as excited as it was possible to be, and that was good for me. It was a lust festival. Bob's ass closed tight on my cock, and anything that could feel was feeling.
Jimmy shot off several more times and then pulled out so he could rim me. He like eating his own cum as it drooled from my ass. I shot off in Bob's hole and pulled out. He switched sides and fucked me. Jimmy worked on my cock and didn't seem to mind it had just been in Bob's hole. It was a wild ride. I had to go. Bob asked me I if I could fuck him with his partner present. "Dale would love to watch," he said.
I told him if we could find the time, I was game. I showered again, collected Greg, Dusty and Marty and we returned to the bed and breakfast.
The wrestlers returned around 11:00. The event had been a huge success. While Buster and Ali stood out, Wolfman did really well and picked up a fee of $3,000.00. He was floating on air. Nigel went to bed immediately, since he was exhausted. Dr. Max said he had a hotel room and asked if I would like to share it. The apartment was crowded so I took him up on it.
He was tired and I was tired so we went to bed and then fucked like rabbits the next morning. After the last orgasm, we talked about Nigel. Since I was playing baby sitter, I wanted to know what I had to watch out for.
Nigel had indeed been saved by his thick skull. Most men would have been killed instantly. The quick response to the attack also helped. Changes in attitude or numbness or have a problem doing an activity was bad too. He had trouble with some small motor skills. I needed to watch for and changes for the worse there.
I asked when Nigel could get back to wrestling.
"To be quite frank, that is not in the cards," Max said. "There are only so many times you can dodge the bullet. I don't think there is any way a match could be choreographed to be safe enough for him."
"Oh shit."
"Nigel knows he can't do any wrestling for a year or two at least," Max said. "He told me he'd probably bee too old by then. Buster and Ali know he won't wrestle again. I think they are working of getting him a job." Max had to get back to Scranton. He gave me his cell number told me to call him if I had any questions.
I got back to the apartment in time for breakfast and then got to the gym by 10:30. The event would be at 2:00. They were going to do a straight exhibition match, followed by a comic interlude with me and Wolfman. I was going to be wearing Nigel's ill fitting wrestling singlet. This was to introduce full frontal nudity. Buster would decide whether to get more naked, or go with a more conventional wresting routine depending on the crowds' reaction. I guessed the reaction to nudity would be good. The gym was closed for the event at noon.
There were no dressing rooms at the gym so Ali, Buster and Wolfman showered and changed in the locker area. The wrestlers weren't shy at all. Wolfman tends to be half hard when he's with other naked men. That generated more interest, even among those who weren't into wrestling. Our experiences setting up the guy the day before let everyone know we were open minded.
We had a crowd of 40 to 50 men. Most were in workout clothes although a few were wearing only towels. I was interested in how things would go. We had preformed at a nudist camp days earlier, and that had gone well. This wasn't a nude gym and at the camp, dim lighting let men do things they would normally be uncomfortable with.
The gym was well lighted so there were no dim corners. The campers were big bears and not particularly proud of their bodies. At the gym every one was either in good shape or in great shape. They were proud of there bodies, and weren't afraid to show off. I wasn't sure how thign would shake out.
As usual, the first part of the show was traditional wrestling. Buster liked to establish they were good wrestlers. They started with an Olympic style bout, then did a Television style bout with impressive gymnastics. The crowd went crazy. Ali and Buster took a break and Wolfman and I did our routine. It was a variation on the one I did at the camp.
Wolfman usually was the bad-guy heavy on the professional circuit. He surprised us all when he showed skill at slapstick comedy. He had a good body but he clearly had some mileage on him. While he chased be around the ring trying to catch me, I jumped on his shoulders. By accident the singlet was on one side of his neck and my cock on the other. He tried to shake me off until he discovered my cock was inches from his mouth. It was just out of reach.
The combination of the enraged jerk trying to get a pest off his back and a horny man trying to get a taste of cock was hilarious. He would rant then stick out his tongue to try to get my cock. I could stretch my foreskin, and I tickled his ear with it. The crowd was rolling on the floor in laughter. Eventually Buster called the match a draw, and he took over.
"I'm sorry about Wee Willy's wardrobe malfunction. I can tell you were deeply offended by it," he said. Again, the audience laughed. "We are now going to invite members of the audience to join us in tag team matches. As you well know, the original wrestling attire was birthday suits. We sometimes do wrestling matches nude. We have singlets for the volunteers, but if you are game, we can do it nude. What's your poison?"
The answer was obvious to me.