[DISCLAIMER]
Firstly I wanted everyone to notice the change in my e-mail address. I'm at scottraven69@hotmail.com now. I mean, I have other e-mail addresses but this is my updated "public" one.
Again, you guys know the drill here. If you aren't into the "scene," and don't like reading about it, then don't go any farther than where you are right now. As for the rest of you, I hope you enjoy this one. I got much supportive e-mail from my last story and am sorry that it took me so long to write another, as I've been on the road for a few days (yes, Pete was with me, LOL). So here we are.
ME, PETE, AND PERRY - PART ONE [M/M oral wrestling]
So there we were in that early morning dimness after a long Friday evening. Both Pete and I lay in the motel bed, with him sleeping peacefully next to me. I didn't have it in me to hold him like I wanted to. I just haven't reached that stage yet. The night before was great, though. We were together, physically and emotionally, and the sex was wonderful. He's gotten a lot more receptive to me and I guess he feels pretty comfortable about the way he "is" with me sometimes. I'd hate for him to be royally screwed in the head over all this, because I know it's not easy for guys to totally out themselves with minimal pain.
I looked over at him sleeping. I've told you before he was beautiful. When he's asleep, he looks like such a child. His eyelids were closed shut, seemingly sealed lightly with his long lashes. His full, sexy lips weren't closed completely, as he took inaudible breaths while sleeping. I watched him and loved him. Sometimes he just seems so damned helpless, you know? And he really is helpless sometimes, when I have him how I want him, that is.
I don't know how long I was lying there looking at him, but I knew we had a big day ahead of us. There was a show tonight and I was set to go against Perry, who I'm supposed to hate with a vengeance, ironically. That's ironic as Perry has been a buddy to me on the road now for years. As a matter of fact, he's taken care of me a few times, if you know what I mean. I just don't talk to him about it, or pass the whole thing off as me being drunk or high or whatever. I'll even tell him I didn't enjoy it just to lessen the stigma.
I guess I should describe the guy to you all out there, if you really want to get a good mental picture of this whole thing. Perry doesn't look like the archetypical pro-wrestler to me. No surprise there, not many of the boys in the ring today look like your big hulking bruiser anymore. But he's built, pretty much almost the same build as me. He's not too big and not too little. I figure the best way to describe Perry is to compare him to a motorcycle leather daddy. I mean hell, that's what he is in actuality. He's got a shaved head, long moustache, and his ring gear is even leathered-out. Most of the fans out there have a pretty good idea by looking at him that he's a little fruity, even though he hasn't always had this leather gimmick in the ring. But don't get me wrong, Perry hasn't come out yet. I mean, shit, the guy is married to a woman and has a kid. But my God.....you and I both know that doesn't mean anything anymore, does it?
Perry and I were scheduled to work a match that night. Pete would also have a match against one of the smaller guys that I don't know so well, being that his opponent is one of the newer kids around. I don't know if the new kid has been "initiated" with some of the bigger guys yet, but I'd give him time. He looks kind of bold anyway and problably needs to be fucked down
a peg or two a few times in the shower so he'll know what's what in the business. Not that I condone that, though....it's just the way it is around here.
I stirred a little and made the attempt to get up, much to Pete's disdain. He must have felt me move, since he gave a little murmur and whine and tried to pull me back towards him. "Not now, it's time to get up," I said, gently pushing him away. I wished he wouldn't cling on to me like that, it's hard enough having wood in the morning than to have someone agitate it.
"Scotty," he whined softly. "Just a few more minutes....please?" He humped softly against my bare leg. I could feel his own little boner rubbing up against my skin. I moaned a little, half-annoyed and very aroused. Pete rested his head against my chest, making me squirm a little as I felt his soft, sexy hair against me. I couldn't help but inhale his scent. Sensing my attention, Pete's little tongue snaked out from behind those full lips and licked at my nipple. I sucked in my breath at the tickly, tingly sensation as my hand made its way down to my erection, gripping it firmly. Pete continued to hump at my leg like the horny little pup he is. I had to draw the line somewhere and regain control. I felt my lips part and the words croak out somewhere behind my lustful daze.....
"Stop..stop it...." I pushed him away and he whined softly. I looked at him then, realizing how pitiful he looked, staring up at me sadly with those puppy dog brown eyes. I sighed. "We can't now, honey. We have to go, remember? To the gym?"
Pete wiped at his eyes then and nodded. "Ok," was his reply.
I helped him up out of the bed and into the shower, where I started a warm flow of water for him to wash in, or at least for me to help him wash in.
I don't mind washing Pete while taking care of myself. He's pretty docile and lets me scrup and rinse with minimal trouble. Sometimes he'll get a little silly and splash at me, or wiggle and squirm around while I try to dry him off; just playful little stuff like that.
I was running my fingers through his soapy, wet hair underneath the warm stream of water coming from the shower head. We were both naked, and not ironically, both hard. As I washed his hair I allowed my erection the pleasure of rubbing up against Pete's tight little boyish ass. I actually love those moments where I get to be intimate with him in the shower; we can't really be this close in the locker room. Sometimes I see the guys backstage breaking the "tough brute wrestler" barrier and cozying up with someone, but I don't know about me...I'm just not that comfortable with this yet.
I rinsed his hair free of the sweet-smelling suds, and as he looked up at me to see if I was done I kissed him on his hot little mouth to reward him for being still. Of course, what started as a quick little peck on the lips turned into a kiss that seemed to raise more steam than the warm flow of water. He was kissing me back as my hands found their way to his asscheeks, firm and round. I groped and rubbed his ass, letting my tongue probe inside my Petie's mouth. We were so close together; I could feel his throbbing hard-on pulsating up against me. After a few minutes of our lips and tongues clinging to one another, I couldn't take it any longer, as my engorged cock felt like it was going to explode. I needed head, and I needed it right then and there.
"Honey....." I said, breathless after pulling away and breaking the kiss. "Petie....daddy needs it. I need it so bad." I pushed my erection up against his wet skin. He simply grinned, nodded, and got down to both knees.
In seconds, waves of pleasure were racking my body. This hot, sexy little twink was sucking my cock, he was going down on me like a pro. I was holding on to his hair and head with both hands, positioning his mouth on me as he audibly sucked at my tool. I could feel his warm little mouth all over it, sucking while his hands eagerly played with my balls, which now felt ready to explode. I continued holding his head as I humped at it.
"Petie," I moaned. "unnnh.....yes, baby, suck on it....yeah, oh, that's soooo good...."
Pete hummed his approval, making the sensations on my rigid dick even more heightened with the vibration. I was going to cum. All over my boy and inside his wet, hot mouth.
I moaned out loud one last time and then let it go, gasping loudly. My cum shot over and over again in Pete's mouth, volley after volley. My knees then buckled and I fell back against the wall, still moaning and quivering. Pete remained at my cock, nursing away every drop of my cum. I ran my fingers through his wet, dripping hair and gently pulled him away.
Minutes later we were out of the shower. I dried Pete off and knotted a towel around my waist, all the while letting him kiss my face. He's so damned affectionate. I guess I like it, even though I don't consider myself fully queer.
As I finished toweling him off, the telephone rang. Shit, I thought. I know that's Perry. Picking up the reciever, I immediately blurted out, "I know, I know it, fuck me, I'm late...."
"I'd like to, Scotty," answered the smooth yet gruff voice on the other end of the line, with a warm chuckle. "When the hell are you guys getting over here already, I've been at this gym for damn near 20 minutes....gettin' muscle atrophy over here!"
"Yeah, yeah," I answered coolly, looking over at Pete, who was stroking his balls with the soft cloth of the towel. "We're on our way; just had a little.....altercation in the shower."
"Yes, I'll bet!" Perry chuckled again as he chided me, "You fucked that ass, didn't you, Scotty?"
"Save it," I said. "Save that for later tonight."
"That a promise? Get your ass over here and bring your toy."
Perry's like that. He jokes and speaks openly all the time about guys and gay sex and all that.....so much that it almost seems that he's poking fun. Almost seems like he's homophobic, what with all the faggy clothes and all that. Almost.
The intimacy of wrestlers working out is really something for any queer to see. There's a lot of trust involved there, what with all the spotting, the assisting, stuff like that. As usual there's the sweating and the grunting, the smell too. I enjoy it in more ways than one. Sometimes there's just so much testosterone in one weight room, that when you hit your max, it's comparable only to blowing your wad everywhere.
That's the way it was this morning and afternoon. Iron pumping, guys sweating. After the first hour, my gym shorts were soaked as well as the loose tank top I wore. After taking a breather at the water fountain, I felt Perry's hand pat my ass, then stay there. I turned around to see his moustached and goateed grin.
"Hey good lookin'," he purred in my ear jokingly after leaning in to whisper, "I just found out that this guym has a sparring mat. Want to go for a few?"
I hummed, then looked over at Pete, who was still tightening his taut little chest on one of the workout machines on the other side of the room. He would be okay for this little bit.
The wrestling mats were in another part of the gym, secluded, quiet, and musky. It was obvious that these mats had been used frequently, though. Maybe perhaps for more than some were willing to admit.
"So," said Perry. "Two out of three falls and I get to have first shot at Petie-pup after the show tonight. You'll get the sloppy seconds, if I win."
Something inside me twinged a little when he said that. I don't mind Perry knowing what I like; but you know.....still. I nodded, though. I'm never one to back down on a challenge, even if it's one like this. Stepping onto the dingy mat, I limbered myself up with stretches. Perry did the same, on the opposite side of the mat from me. Looking at him sideways, I could tell he was looking at me so I bent over to stretch out my lower back muscles, teasingly.
I felt his eyes traveling up my legs and holding steady right there at my ass as I stretched from left to right. I didn't exactly mean to put on a show, but he seemed to be getting more out of it than I was.
"Like the view?" I straightened up and looked at him with a grin.
"Sure," he answered, "but I'll like it even better when your shoulders are both on that mat."
"In your wet dreams, queer," I joked, then in the same breath taking two big steps forward and giving Perry a prepatory shove. He matched my bravado and shoved back. In seconds we were locked up, grunting. We were taking our strength and testing it against one another. Perry's a tough guy, too, so I was giving it all I had when we locked up. Quickly enough though, he had slipped me into a headlock. I could feel warm pants of breath on my hair and the back of my neck, so I could tell I had taxed him, even if only a little.
I then wrapped my arms around his waist, feeling the heat of his crotch against my forearm. With that, I hooked his left leg with my own and immediately knocked him on the ground with a grunt. He rolled himself over and quickly got back up, flexing his tattooed back as he stood. I took a step back.
"Not even all that winded," I commented, a little breathless. "You been working on that?"
"Yeah," he said proudly, and then with a grin, "keeps me going against fruits like you that can't take it."
I laughed at that and came at him with a tackle, taking him off his feet again. Perry again got up quickly, but this time I was behind him and prepared. I locked my arms around his waist and took him backwards in a waistlock suplex. I couldn't see him as his body was positioned away from my view, but my arms were still locked around his waist and I could feel his cock growing hard as my arms brushed against his package. I broke the hold then and sprang back to my feet.
That was the first fall.
"Got you on that one," I grinned, taking heavy and deep breaths and already sweating. Perry nodded and got back to his feet. We locked up again and he took me in an armlock. I tried sweeping at his leg again, but he came prepared for this one as he swept me up into a bodyslam position. Instead of slamming me, he flipped me over into the piledriver position.
In this hold, my head was positioned over his crotch, and his was over mine. His hard-on at this point looked as if it were about to leap out of his sweaty gym shorts at me as I watched it, waiting for him to enact the move correctly. I felt his hot, steady gasps of breath on my own crotch. The sensation was starting to get to me, even though I had been trying my best to keep this professional, at least in theory for training. Then I felt slight tingling.....a pleasurable sensation that sent shock through me. Perry had been kissing at my cock through my pants.
I let out a yelp and broke the move, rolling over onto my shoulders and then back. I looked up at the ceiling for a moment, trying to catch my breath and control my own dick from stirring up into a frenzy.
"You liked it," said Perry after a few minutes of deep breathing. "Didn't you?"
"I didn't come here for a spank session, if that's what you mean," I growled back. I guess I sounded a bit annoyed, since Perry eased off then. I turned my back to him, not sure of why I acted like I had. I mean, what he did had really felt nice. But I'm not like he is. I'm not a queer. There's a difference between what I like and what he likes....isn't there?
After a moment, Perry came to sit beside me and put his hand on my shoulder. I thought about moving it away, but didn't.
"Hey," he said. "Hey, Scott....Scotty....I'm sorry. I didn't know you weren't in the mood."
"I told you, I didn't come here to wank off," I said, still not looking him in the face. "We have a match tonight and I wanted to go in prepared, is all."
"I know it, I know....I was just thinking with my balls again. I'm sorry, Scotty." He paused there for a moment, as if in thought, then spoke again. "You know, Scotty, you really should come out with it."
I cringed a little. This time I looked at him. "What?"
"You and I both know how we are, Scotty. Don't be afraid of it."
I felt my face start to flush. I didn't want this.....I don't like people to "understand" how I feel. It's not anyone's fucking business what I want to feel.
"Look, Perry," I said, coldly staring him in the eye, "you don't need to talk to me like this. Do you know why? Because I don't want to hear it."
He shook his head. "I know you liked it, Scotty. Please. We need to talk about this."
More angry than I was willing to cooperate, I started up, only to have Perry take me back down in a waistlock. Not thinking clearly, I fought and struggled at him blindly. He calmly, yet firmly, held me there. His whole calm demeanor about the whole thing seemed to piss me off even more. I grunted and struggled more. This is none of his fucking business, I thought. I've got to get out of here. I need to go somewhere and think for a little while. It's not supposed to be this way. I'm not queer....I'm not a faggot....
I felt hot and beet red in the face....something inside me wanted to explode right then and there as Perry continued to calmly hold me in vice-like arms. I gave up then. I felt myself melt into hot tears as my head collapsed against his chest.
I sat there sobbing in his arms like a baby. I was just so damned confused. I didn't know what the hell I was or if I liked that anybody else knew. I didn't know what the hell was wrong with me. All I knew was that I didn't want anyone to see me there on that dirty gym mat in a heap, crying like a baby and being held by another man who had taken then to kissing my hair and forehead, telling me that it was going to be okay.
END OF PART ONE
I hope you like this, as I'll be posting the second part in the next few days if I'm not "called to action" by then. But, this second part will be up soon. Please feel free to e-mail me with any questions/comments/ideas since I'm open to commentary.