The Big Ten dual meets kicked off as soon as the new semester began, and we found ourselves in a position our program hadn't been in for a while. Thanks to our win over Missouri, solid performances in the out-of-conference duals, and a very strong finish at the Midlands, we were ranked tenth in the nation. Still a far cry from the Penn States and Iowas of the world... but with only five teams in the conference ranked ahead of us, we were on track to not be the underdogs in most of our meets this season.
The effect this had in the wrestling room was electric. There was an excitement in the air that I'd never felt before; not on a whole team basis anyway. Everybody from the lowest redshirt clear up to Coach Wilson was brimming with energy and good vibes, like something very special was going on. Guys were hitting the mat with a renewed sense of purpose, as if everybody knew this would be a season to remember.
I don't even have to tell you how that played out off the mat. We'd go bounding into the locker room after practice, strip down and head to the showers semi hard and ready to mash up with whoever or whatever happened to come within reach. Funny thing was, with only eight of us being full-fledged members of the family, one designated friend and one more with a history of playing around, you couldn't find two limp dicks in the entire thirty-man squad. The whole team was boned up for each other, and there wasn't much doubt that a good number of those guys who were "only clowning around" would be pairing off and bringing that energy home for a good hard session. Duncan's doctrine was being proven in a clearly visible way: wrestling is all about sex.
That made it all the more difficult to understand what the hell was going on with Justin. He'd won his weight class at the Midlands. The word being passed around -- not just on our campus but across the nation -- was that he'd be a major contender at the NCAAs in March, and could very well go the distance. But instead of firing him up, the attention he was getting just seemed to drag him down. He'd always been the life of the party, a real heavyweight personality, but ever since the Midlands he'd been acting suspiciously low key.
It transferred over to his wrestling too. In our first Friday dual against Rutgers and then Sunday with Northwestern, he didn't look at all like himself. He won his matches but just barely, against guys he should've taken apart. He hardly cracked a smile when the ref raised his hand, and afterward he avoided us and kept to himself.
"Is there something we don't know about?" Carter asked me. "Apart from wrestling?"
"What else is there? During the season, what else matters?"
We thought we'd better talk to Travis about it; if anybody knew Justin, he did. We pulled him into our room that night and asked him what was going on.
"Guys, I dunno," he said. "It isn't his family, it isn't school, and it isn't me... as far as I can tell. He's been like that ever since Midlands, and he won't tell me what's wrong. It doesn't make any sense."
Carter thought it over a minute, perplexed. "If it was one of us acting like that, what would Justin do?"
Trav snickered. "Probly rag your ass until you shaped up."
"Would that work on him?" I asked.
Trav shrugged. "I don't see why not. He always wrestles better when he's pissed off."
So we tried the harassment approach. At strength training, at wrestling practice, even over dinner we gave him as much shit as we could. Called him a pussy, told him he's wrestling like a little girl. Mocked him in every way we could think of. But where the old Justin would've come raging back at us like a wild bull, it only seemed to make him grouchy... and his wrestling didn't get any sharper.
My brother and I decided to talk with Jase and Kyle about it. Those two knew as much as anyone about what goes on in wrestling, both on the mat and inside the head. We stopped by their apartment and told them everything. I guess it was no surprise they'd seen the same things we had.
"It's the ranking," Jase told us. "It got into his head. A highly ranked wrestler worries more about losing to a low-ranked guy than beating a top-ranked guy, because he's afraid of looking like a fraud. Especially if it's his first time in the spotlight. Justin knows this season's his last chance to make his mark, and he's afraid he'll blow it. He's not wrestling to win, he's wrestling not to lose. And it'll catch up to him before long."
Carter frowned. "So, how do we fix it?"
"He needs to get his ass whipped," Kyle said, and shot a glance over to Jase. "Just like somebody else needed it once."
For just a moment I'd swear Jase was blushing.
"Okay... can you do it?"
Kyle shook his head. "Gotta be honest, I'm not really in his league anymore. We train together, I know his moves and all, but... whipping his ass would be a tall order."
"How about Duncan then?" I suggested.
"Duncan's definitely ahead of him in skills," Jase told us. "But Justin's a lot bigger and a lot stronger. I'd give Duncan the advantage in a regulation match, but it wouldn't be the ass whipping Justin needs."
My brother and I traded uncertain looks.
"So, what do we do?" Carter asked. "Wait till he goes up against the number one stud and gets pounded? Meanwhile, what if some no-ranked turd gets in a lucky shot and wipes out his confidence for the rest of the season?"
"Let us work on it," Jase said. "We'll come up with something."
I guess that was all we could do. We thanked them sincerely for their time and grabbed out coats. I'm not sure either one of us really believed we'd made any progress, but if those two couldn't help, I didn't think anyone could.
"Leaving already?" Jase asked, and gave me that look.
"Oh come on, not again! We came here with a genuine problem! Are you saying we can't even stop by for a little help without getting down on our goddamn knees?"
Kyle looked us over and blinked a couple time. "Are you saying you don't wanna suck our dicks?"
"Well..." I glanced at my brother. "I wouldn't say that exactly..."
"Then what the fuck are you complainin' about?"
Carter busted out laughing. Kyle smirked back at him and peeled down his shorts, and Jase just gave me that well-known sneer and pointed to his dick. My brother and I stripped off our shirts and moved in.
And I gotta say, the way Jase stroked my head as I went down on his meat and sucked it in and out, the feeling of his thick cock filling my throat, and the warm, salty taste of his cream as I drank down every last drop sure put things in a better perspective. These guys were our mentors. We trusted them to come through for us, just like they always had. Our job was to wrestle hard and be good boys and good brothers, and the rest was sure to work itself out.
That weekend we had an away meet at Indiana -- a bus trip instead of a flight, so we brought the whole squad along. It was one we expected to win, and thanks to the family connection, our guys were looking forward to meeting up with their long distance brothers again. It wouldn't be the same for Carter and me, now that Noah and Dave had graduated... but when the bus pulled up to the arena, there those fuckers were, waiting for us. We hopped off and bounded up to them all smiles.
"Wow, you guys came back for this? That's so sweet!" I snagged Noah and gave him a big hug.
He rolled his eyes. "Came back? We never left, shithead. We started law school in the fall, remember?"
"Ah, right."
"We're in the wrestling room helping the guys train every day," Dave told us, between hugs with Carter. "It's not the same as competing, but it's cool."
Our meets with Indiana had become very friendly affairs over the past few years. Everybody on both teams, family or not, knew Pete and Jase had wrestled together and were close as could be. It put the whole competition in a different light. We were wrestling as buddies; we'd go after each other as hard as we could, and never had to worry about bad feelings or chips on shoulders. Win or lose, we could let ourselves go and have fun. Even the crowd in the stands picked up on it... though they didn't have a clue that a good number of us had spent some time rolling around naked together.
The matches went just about like I expected. Aiden and Troy came out on top of Ric and Tanner; the Hoosier guys had way more experience and their mentors had trained them well. Brady scored a major decision over Sawyer, the spitting image of a 19-year-old Dave, and I tech falled his brother Holt, a young clone of Noah. Trav and Willis and Carter faced off with guys we didn't know, unranked and with no family connections, and sent them to the showers disappointed.
And then there was the final match, at heavyweight. Justin played it conservative again; he managed a win but kept it close the entire seven minutes... against a guy he should've easily demolished. Of course we yelled our lungs out for him, but every one of us was thinking... when the fuck is the big goof gonna wake up?
All in all it was a great meet for us. We won seven matches out of ten. At the end of it, after the team handshakes, Jase snagged Pete and pulled him off to the side for what looked like a fairly intimate conversation. I thought they were only reconnecting as former mentor and boy, until they called me over.
"You remember Pete's brother Rob?" Jase asked me.
"Sure, from the lake house, the last two summers. The great big guy, right?"
"Yeah, that's him. About two inches taller than Justin and thirty pounds heavier. He mentored Kyle. I think he's the guy we need to take care of our problem."
My eyes widened. "Is he around? Can he win?"
Pete smirked. "He's my brother. We live together. And yeah, if Justin wrestles like he did today, Rob'll slaughter him."
"And... he's willing to do it?"
They both grinned.
"Of course he is," Jase said. "He may be an old man now but he's still a wrestler."
They set it up for Monday night in Duncan's basement. No sense wasting any time. I begged Jase to let Carter and me come watch. He surprised me by telling me okay, and to make sure I brought along the rest of the guys too; the bigger the audience, the greater the humiliation, and the better it would be for Justin. I wasn't so sure about that, but if the big guy was getting his ass kicked, I knew no one would want to miss it.
The family members gathered up early that night and stood at the edge of the mat waiting for Rob to show. All eight of us teammates, Jase and Kyle, even Duncan made an appearance -- it was too huge an event to pass up. The big guy didn't have a clue about what was going on, or that he was the reason for it.
As we waited, people started getting antsy. The testosterone level in the room was rising. Guys were nudging each other, pushing and shoving playfully, busting out little go-behind moves and impromptu headlocks. You got the idea a brawl or an orgy could break out at any minute... but nobody wanted to start anything; we were all there to see the show.
Finally the basement door swung open and Rob tromped down the stairs. Justin's eyes lit up in a heartbeat; they shared that special connection between guys who are truly huge. Right behind him was Pete, and then Noah and Dave... they'd known both Justin and Rob long enough, and I guess they couldn't stay away either. We all stepped up to greet our brothers, reshuffled, found comfortable patches of floorspace and made room for them to settle in with us at the sidelines.
Duncan called out to Rob. "You need to stretch out, warm up? The mat's yours."
Rob nodded a quick thanks and stripped to his compression shorts. We watched as he loosened those big muscles, ran through a few tumbles, sprinted in place a bit to shake off the long drive from Bloomington. The "old man" looked great; he couldn't have been more than 32, his massive body was sculpted as fuck, and he moved like a quarter horse.
"All set?" Jase asked him, once he'd had enough time to get the blood flowing.
"Bring it on," Rob answered. A murmur of excitement welled up from the room.
"Justin!" Jase barked. "You're up!"
The big guy was taken by surprise but he eagerly hopped to his feet. He and Rob had fucked but they'd never wrestled; this was something he'd dreamed about for a long time. He shed his clothes and stepped up to the mat in his boxer briefs, stretched a bit, then signaled he was ready.
Rob sneered back, peeled his compression shorts off and tossed them out of the circle. His cock flopped out long and thick, like a limp cucumber. Justin didn't hesitate; he pulled off his boxer briefs and threw them aside. Another excited rumble swept through the crowd.
"Nobody's reffing this shit," Jase announced. "You guys are on your own. Respect each other... and get the fuck after it."
They lined up at center, their eyes met and on a silent signal they crashed together. It was like watching two bulldozers in a demolition derby, one huge body mashing up on the other, raw muscle smacking against muscle. I sat there with an arm around Noah and a hand on my brother's package, every one of us in awe at the sight of rippling quads, straining glutes, big dangling cocks swinging like pendulums and getting stiffer by the minute.
In no time they were both slick with sweat; you can't move that much flesh around without serious effort. Swollen veins lined their arms and necks and temples; tendons as big around as my thumb popped out all over. As they clashed and grappled and threw each other around, their grunts and grumbles hung in the air, deep visceral sounds that seemed to be forced out of them with every collision, like knocking the wind out of a water buffalo.
Rob was most definitely getting the better of Justin. Our buddy's attacks were shut down as soon as they began, and he was just barely slipping out of the bigger guy's grasp. He fought hard to stay in the match but was being worn down slowly but surely. We could all see that Rob was toying with him, showing off his greater strength and skills to put Justin in his place and position him for the one big move that would finish him once and for all. But we also saw Justin was more engaged and putting in more effort than anything we'd seen out of him lately.
When Rob decided he'd played around long enough, he baited our boy into reaching in just a bit too far. He dragged Justin's arm across his body, trapped his wrist with an elbow and executed an incredible Greco throw that sent all two hundred and twenty pounds of bare ass naked Justin flying end over end through the air and slamming down on the mat. From there on it was textbook; with our boy on his back, Rob only needed to snare Justin's arms and exert pressure in the right direction to put his shoulders on the mat and score the win.
But out of nowhere Justin flat out exploded. Somehow he found the strength to roll out of that behemoth's grasp and turn him over on his ass. We watched in utter amazement as our buddy manhandled that big monster, shoved him around like a schoolkid, went for broke with a lightning-fast move and locked up a goddamn cradle for fuck's sake. The whole room howled as Justin pressed in on Rob's chest with all his weight, finally broke down his resistance and pinned the big son of a bitch.
Neither one of them needed a ref to tell them it was over. Justin shot up to his feet and let out a huge roar, flexing every muscle in his body looking like an anatomy book on steroids, his big cock standing up straight as a ramrod. Rob was grinning and shaking his head; you gotta love it when a brother gets one over on you like that. And his meat was fully stiff and pointing at the ceiling too. He picked himself up off the mat and shook Justin's hand.
"Ya know, we have a tradition in this family," Rob grunted. "Winner takes cock."
Justin snorted. "Well, duh! Whatta ya think I wrestled so hard for?"
Our boy trotted over to the cabinet for the olive oil. With a shank the size of Rob's, sweat and spit alone would never cut it. He dutifully oiled that cock from end to end, smearing it up and down the shaft, while Rob stood there with his hands on his hips grinning like he'd won the match. I guess in a way, he had; one way or another he'd got Justin to quit walking on eggshells and show what he was made of.
When they were both lubed up and the oil was set aside, Rob didn't waste a second. He hooked Justin around the back of the neck and threw him down on the mat. The crowd reacted with a gasp but our boy didn't seem to mind; it wasn't every day he was with a guy who could even do that, and it was a treat to be manhandled for a change. He got down on all fours and stuck out that big ass, playing compliant and eagerly awaiting what was to come.
As for Rob, he was no stranger to the scene. Being mentored by Coach Wilson himself, and then mentoring Kyle, had taught him everything he needed to know about what a big guy needs. He knelt behind and planted his hands on Justin's hips, holding him firm as he pressed the tip of his cock to Justin's hole and ramming right into him. We all winced at the display of force, and I tightened my grip on Noah. But Rob knew what he was doing; Justin bellowed like a bull but it was pretty damn clear he got what he wanted.
We gaped at the sight of that huge cock plowing into Justin's big muscled ass, sinking in to the root and then pulling back nearly all the way to gear up for another deep thrust. It was mesmerizing to see those two go at it. Everything about them was bigger than life; a giant cock on a giant body and another Goliath who could take it... every eye in the place was riveted. Every cock in the room was rising at the sight of those beasts fucking with enough raw energy to shake the whole house down.
An odd noise caught my attention; I glanced to my left and saw Carter and Dave making out fiercely. All along the sidelines, hands were digging into a neighboring pair of shorts and stroking; cocks were brought out in the open and sucking seemed sure to follow. I nudged Noah and we looked over the group, grinned at each other, and then attacked, our lips mashed together, tongues grappling, fingers wrapping around shafts, tickling balls and teasing swollen heads.
But nobody wanted to miss the big finish. As we made out, we each kept one eye on the mat. You just don't get a chance to see two rhinoceroses fuck every day.
When it seemed like they were getting close, Noah and I broke off our clinch and focused on Justin and Rob. Their grunts had been getting louder and longer, and coming from deeper in their guts; now they seemed to have taken on a desperately urgent edge. We huddled together all excited like kids at the circus, leaning in eagerly to catch the best view. Those two big bodies rippled and shook as powerful shudders ran through them.
All at once Justin let out a loud bellow. His whole body stiffened and then bucked hard and he spouted like a geyser all over the mat, thick jolts of white cream gushing everywhere. Rob plunged in hard and held it a while, loving the feeling of Justin's hole spasming on his meat. He reared back, gave our boy four or five good solid bangs and then cut loose, blowing his load deep inside Justin's guts, groaning like a wounded moose.
The whole room erupted in yelps and howls; it was almost as big a moment for us as it was for them. We settled down and relaxed as if we'd all experienced a sudden release of tension. Rob and Justin cuddled up together, huffing and panting. When everyone had caught his breath, Jase stepped up to the mat.
"Justin, this night was for you. This wasn't quite the way we planned it, but I think we got the point across. You need to be wrestling with a lot more energy than we've seen out of you lately."
The big guy scowled. "More energy? What the fuck do you mean?"
"Who here thinks Justin's been wrestling like a pussy?" Jase called out. Every hand in the room went up.
"Oh, fuck all you bitches..."
"Hold on a minute," Duncan cut in. "Justin, you haven't been wrestling up to your potential. You've had close matches against guys you should've beaten with your eyes closed. You're winning, fine, but your team needs bonus points from you. We've got some tough meets ahead and every point's gonna matter. These guys need to know they can count on you to go all out in every match. Okay?"
"Okay." The big guy was looking a little sheepish.
"You looked great tonight. So, now that we all know what you're capable of, we'll be looking for the same level of effort."
"Gotcha. Ya gotta understand though, tonight I had an extra incentive..."
"Oh hell!" Kyle piped up from the crowd. "Ya need a fuck to get motivated? I'll fuck ya myself!"
A couple more guys made wiseass cracks and we all had a good laugh and sent Rob and Justin to the shower. People began drifting out and heading back to campus a couple at a time, most of them pretty clearly looking to cap the night off with their own grappling sessions. Travis was left alone waiting for his big brother Justin; he stood at the edge of the mat looking over the pooled splotches of sweat, spit and cum.
Trav looked at me and shrugged. "Guess I have mop duty tonight."
"Nah, don't worry about it," I told him. "Tonight was my idea as much as anybody's, Carter and I can handle the cleanup."
"I'll help!" Noah piped up, and Dave threw in too.
"That's great, but don't you guys have to get back home? It's getting late..."
He shook his head. "Pete and Rob are staying with Jase and Kyle tonight. We won't have a ride home till morning."
"We were hoping you guys might have room for us," Dave said.
My brother and I traded glances. "You guys want top bunk or bottom?" Carter asked them.
Noah grinned. "Maybe one of each?"
Well, here we are in the meat of the season once again. The guys will go up against some tough competition in the next few weeks and they'll have all the usual setbacks and problems to deal with. But things are going pretty well for once, and they'll each have their chances to show what they're made of... on the mat and off. It might get a little ugly at times but in the end they're sure to have their fun. So stay tuned!
And guys, as usual, I'll remind you that this site offers a lot of good times and doesn't ask for much in return. So please, after you blow a nice hot load consider making a donation, so my family of wrestlers and all the other smoking hot stories will always have a home! The link to lend your support is here:
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