Now a young (27) professional, Tom Wales had put his high school life behind him. Not that his high school life had been anything but good, and fun, it was just a part of his past now. He had gotten out of high school, gone to a good college where he had switched continued swimming while he majored in biomedical engineering, and now had a real good job in one of the up and coming companies developing artificial limbs and other forms of devices that could be used in therapies. As the population aged, Tom was ready.
His high school life had come back to him one day when he was getting home from work. It was one of those late spring days when it feels like summer. Tom was very warm, and had loosened the tie on his striped shirt and had pushed the cuffs back to try to get some air. It hadn't done much good, but it was better than nothing. He had just turned the corner, and was no more than ten steps from his building, when he heard the voice.
"IS THAT WALES? IS THAT WALES ON WHEELS?" "Wales on wheels" was a nickname he had grown up with, because he had biked to school. The voice was distinct. "Z man? Is Z man in the hood?" He said, just loud enough so anyone nearby would hear. He didn't see anyone, and then he felt the hand cover his eyes. "Fooled you again, Wales. GOD I miss those days . A surprise to see you here." Tom laughed "Don't be. I live here. Just up the block." "No kidding? Then it looks like where gonna be neighbors. " "Z man " was Richard Zarry. He didn't go to the same high school as Tom did, but they knew each other very well, from interscholastic sports. Z man was the reason Tom had picked swimming instead of wrestling when he had gone to college. Tom was a good wrestler. He was a VERY good wrestler and probably should have been a high school champion, and gone on to wrestling in college. "Z man" was the one who stood in his way, and it never made any sense. Tom had been undefeated in high school wrestling - except for Z man. If there were a tournament and Z man wasn't competing, Tom would win his weight class, handily. If Z man competed, Tom was going to lose. And he did. Usually badly. Not by points, but by pins. "Z" as he liked to be called, had "something" on Tom that no one could really quite understand. After he had beaten Tom the first few times, the "mental game" took over, and Tom was convinced he was going to lose. He did. His 12 losses over his high school career, were all to Z. The thing was, Z man was NOT that great a wrestler. He finished with a record above 500, but he won one, maybe two tournaments: far fewer than Tom. He just "had Tom's number." It had gotten to the point where Tom would check the drawer, and hope there was someone who could beat Z before they had to face off. Sometimes it happened, sometimes it didn't.
The wrestling angle would have been nothing but a footnote in his life story, except for the one time when... well, it was his senior year, and 18 year old Tom was practicing with the team. He had just finished up by beating Lou Spitale, a good but not great wrestler, who was using the match simply to learn things. He learned how good Tom was, and how quickly Tom could pin him. "Nice match Lou. You'll get me next time," Tom had shaken Lou's hand before he went off and as Lou left, he saw Z man standing in the doorway. "Z. What brings you to enemy territory?" Tom kidded. Z's little brother had started at Tom's high school. "Eddie got detention today for something, not sure what, but I can't leave with him for another hour or so, so I was just wandering around." Tom saw his chance: HIS gym, his mat: "Wanna wrestle?" He asked Z man. Richard ("Rich" was what everyone called him, if they didn't call him Z man), smiled. He began to unbutton the shirt of his school clothes. "Sounds good to me. I haven't kicked your ass in a while." Tom laughed. "Don't be so sure you're gonna do it this time." Rich got down to the athletic clothes he had under his school clothes. "LET'S WRESTLE WALES" . Tom was SURE - he was CONVINCED - that this time, informal, no crowd, his own gym, he was gonna get some bragging rights. Five minutes in, Z had him in a hold that he knew he wasn't gonna get out of. Z knew it too, and he was smiling. "Goin down Wales... Going down... " Tom fought, but the angle at which Z had him made him vulnerable. He felt his shoulder blades go back further and further, until they touched the mat. "Same shit different day," Tom grunted. "Maybe, maybe not..." Z smiled. He wasn't letting Tom up. "Wish it were old school days. You lost, I get a prize. " "You want a prize? What prize you want?" Z grinned. "I wanna be the first guy who takes your ass." "WHAT? FUCK. NO. NO WAY. LET ME UP RICH . LET ME UP RIGHT NOW..." He struggled, but when Rich touched his lips to his, the struggle went out of him. It felt SO GOOD. When Z moved his lips to his neck, it felt even better. "How about it Wales? You gonna give it up to me, or am I gonna take it?" Tom wanted to fight, but he could feel his cock getting as hard as it did when he looked at Playboy. Maybe even harder. He tried to imagine what it would feel like. He couldn't. Instead he began to think "Z is gay. Wholly shit. A gay guy's been kicking my ass for four fucking years." Z kissed him again. "I'm gonna ask you. If you don't want it, I'm not taking it, even though I DO want it. Up to you." Tom began to think of how dominant Z had been over all the years. He had never tried anything like this, although he could have. And Tom was horny. His hormones were racing in the way only an 18 year old virgin's could. "Yeah. Take me. Take your prize, Z. You earned it. For sure." Z had a grin on his face that had gotten almost malicious. "I'm gonna FUCK Wales on Wheels. the stud of school, the big man. I'm gonna have his cherry. Aren't I, Wales?" Z's hand was moving around Tom's crotch, teasing it, and it felt GOOD to Tom. When Z pressed his thumb to his ass, he almost came right then and there. "Yes. You're gonna have it. My first." "Not mine. But my first cherry. And it's a good one. " Z spat on his hand, and used the spit to lube his cock. Then he began to inch his way in to Tom's ass. Tom resisted at first. He tried to press his glutes together and force Z out. But Z was ready. He took Tom's balls and just held them. "Know how easy I could do some damage, Wales? I know you're tight, I know your nervous." He squeezed Tom's balls. "BUT STOP TRYING TO KICK ME OUT." Tom lay back and tried to relax. Eventually, Z had gotten his cock into him far enough so that Tom didn't have to relax anymore. Z had taken over. "GOT THIS FEELS GOOD" Tom found himself thinking. But what was he supposed to do now? It was Catholic school: they all had to go to supervised confession every week. "This is a sin," he thought, and then he thought. "Why is everything that feels good, a sin? " He relaxed, and Z had his whole cock in him. Z smiled. "Your ass is really superior Wales. REALLY superior. I feel honored to be the one to break the seal." He laughed. "Looks like you're excited too Tommy boy." Tom HATED being called Tommy, but what was he going to do? Z had his cock in his ass, and Tom's balls in his hand. "You want me to.... bring you off, Wales?" "Yes... Please..." "Me first Wales. Topman always cums first." Z smiled and then, Tom felt the juice flowing into him. "Is this what my girlfriends feel like when I fuck them? " Tom thought. "No wonder they want it so much. " He wondered when he could have it again, and then Z's final stroke on his cock had him explode. Rich lay down on the wrestling mat next to Tom. He smiled, and pushed some sweaty hair out of Tom's face. "Just some good clean fun, Wales. Nothing serious, no commitments." Z laughed. "But you'll never forget me." Tom sighed. "I guess it makes sense. You've owned me on the mat all these years, this was probably inevitable." Z smiled again. "I've been fantasizing about taking your ass for a long, long time Tom. On the one hand, a romantic date would have been nice, but, you'd never go for that. Pinning you, having you helpless.. " Then his face got serious. "Tell the truth, Tom. Did you like it?" "Oh, I did. I was surprised. I didn't think I would. It hurt the first few seconds but the rest was easy. Z laughed. "Yeah, that's what it was like for me when Father O'Harrigan did me three years ago. That was my first." "A PRIEST? HUH?" "One of the teachers. I was having trouble with French class, and he told me to stay for tutoring. Well... I learned a lot more than French that day. " Z looked at his watch. "OH, SHIT. I better go pick up Eddie." He began standing up. "Hey Wales. Are we good?"' "Yeah, perfect. Just some guys blowing off steam." "Glad you feel that way Tom. Catch ya later. " And Z was off. After he was gone, Tom showered. He told himself in the shower "just two guys blowing steam. Just two guys blowing steam," but as he thought about it, his hand went back to his cock, which was getting hard again. Tom had jerked twice or more in a day before - hell, an 18 year old jock? But never this close in time. He HAD enjoyed it. He couldn't deny it. it might have been wrong, but..
He didn't sleep well that night, and pardon the pun, "wrestled" with what he should do. Should he tell the priest at confession? Confession was supposed to be private, but "big sins" somehow always got around school. What did this mean about him? Was he gay ? He had never felt attracted to any guyss, and he hadn't felt attracted to Rich. Except maybe he did. Maybe he just pushed it away, but maybe that's why he kept losing to him. He decided, with no reason, that any time he and Z met for the rest of that senior year, when Z beat him, he'd want his ass again. THAT was wrong, he decided. One time, a surprise, was ok. Looking for it was not. He quite the wrestling team the next day. It caused quite an uproar, but when he won three medals for the swimming team in the next meet, everyone forgot "Wrestler Wales on Weels" and began calling him "Iron Butterfly," after his special stroke.
He never did run into Z again for the rest of high school: without wrestling , there was no need. And then off to college. Across the country. No Z. And he was almost ascetic in his social life. He dated a few women, but slept with even fewer of them. Tom could fairly say he had graduated able to count the number of his bed partners on his fingers.
That all changed when he got back to NY, and started working. The engineers had a "guy culture," and he fell right into it, as a former athlete who still worked out, hard. "Why wait for Friday?" was the mantra of all those single guys, and they'd hid a club on Thursday, not staying out too late. Friday and Saturday were all out party. More than once, Tom found himself waking up on Sunday afternoon, some woman sleeping next to him, without being able to remember how she had gotten there. In fact, he was scheduled to meet the guys that night.
"Wales, you're off in lala land. Do I need to grab the balloons?" Z asked him. Tom laughed "Oh, sorry. I was just thinking about a bunch of stuff. Lotsa things going on at work, party tonight. " He looked at his watch. "I really should get to my apartment and change. It's good running into you Z." "Yeah, likewise. Hey, maybe since we're gonna be neighbors, we can hang occasionally." And then , Z dropped the dime. "You still wrestle at all Wales? " "Nope. Gave that up for college. Stuck to swimming." Z laughed. "Make it even easier to beat you if you're out of shape." "OUT OF SHAPE. HEY, I'M NOT OUT OF SHAPE. I COULD PROBABLY KICK YOUR ASS THESE DAYS." "Well, maybe we should find out. " He handed Tom a card. "I won't bother you. Just gimme a call if you wanna hang. I'm an attorney these days, so I'm pretty busy myself. But we can probably make it work. " "Oh, before I forget Wales, I still wrestle. There's a Greek guy that runs a club in the neighborhood. Mr. D's." "YEAH. I passed by it a few times. Any good." "Oh, it's GOOD. He's a silver medalist in Greco Roman from about four Olympics ago, but he's in great shape. Kicked my butt last weekend. Tom laughed. "Glad SOMEONE does .' Z held out his hand. "Whatever happens, Wales, it was good to see you. Take care and... maybe you could gimme a call." "I will Z. I will. I really gotta motor now."
Z watched Tom hustle to his apartment building thinking "it was a great ass then, and it's a great one now. Who could figure? WHO could figure? " He chuckled. Even if Tom didn't call him, he could... nah, he wouldn't harass him at the building: none of this "we keep on bumping into each other" crap. Rich had no problem getting dates. Guys saw his body, heard he was an attorney, and one or the other or both usually meant he was never alone in the sack. But seeing Tom reminded him: Tom was the one he wanted. See, after their "clean fun", Rich had fantasized about having Tom in his bed ever night: having him on a leash, and dragging him around town, nipple clamps on his tits, and a big gag in his mouth. "Hell, I better get home too," he thought, and then he thought . "You know, that shirt he was wearing? I bet that was one he had in high school. If he calls, got to bring that up." It took three days, but Tom did call.