Wrestling for Relief Part Four
Mike had bragged around that he and his roommate were going to take on the house president in a tag match, and by popular demand it was being transferred to the workout room in the basement after (mandatory) study hours. More than a dozen fight fans were gathered around the mats or on the dilapidated couches, most of them nursing cans of beer, when Dave came down. He had mixed feelings about this little exhibition match. It wasn't shyness.
He knew that he owned an exceptional body, and that his weathered track shorts showed it off for both admiration and envy. A jock beneath the shorts was insurance against any embarrassment. His partner was if anything a more perfect example of prime beef, and there were few in the room who could match either one of them.
Their opponents were the problems, or at least Mike was. Dave knew them well, not only as fraternity brothers, but from football. Ty was one of the quieter members of the squad, but friendly and well-liked. Trim and extremely clean. Guys joked that he showered so long and soaped so hard that one day his color was going to wash clean off. Mike, on the other hand, was one of the loud ones. On the team bus he'd be roaming the aisle making wisecracks, organizing poker, or bragging about his expertise with women. He was big and undeniably strong, but ripped he was not. Burly with reddish brown hair. He also had one of the handsomest faces on campus, but then so did Danny.
One audience member did his extemporaneous fight announcer bit, and then Mike and Dave stepped onto the 20 x 20 square to start it off, wearing shorts and sweat sox. Big Mike started dancing around his opponent, feinting with his arms and crouching for an opening. They tied up and Mike muscled Dave back toward the edge. Then he dove for a leg. As he did, Dave shoved down hard on the crown of his head and pivoted behind him. He threw his arms around Mike's waist and tried to flip him, but the bigger man stood up, broke the grip and wheeled to face him. This time Dave captured a leg, and had his opponent bouncing around on the other to maintain his balance. The brothers clapped and whistled. "Mikey's doing his jig!" "Take him down, man." "Hey, Peg-Leg!"
Eventually Dave executed a sweeping trip and they went down, rolling and competing for control, grabbing for holds. A break, back on their feet, more take downs, now some hard grunting and sweating. Dave's favorite hold once they were down on the mat was a legal arm bar, right hand shooting behind the other man's head to grasp his right wrist, then reinforcing the lock by bringing his left hand under his opponent's bicep and locking onto his own right wrist. He spread his legs and tightened the grip, sinking his chin deep into his barrel-chested adversary. Mike kicked and rolled and kicked some more, but remained securely on his back. Frustrated, he reached between Dave's legs with his free hand and angrily swatted at his nuts.
"Oooh. Oww." "Dir-tee!" "Easy on his jewels, Mike."
Dave groaned, but he held on. Flexing his right forearm, he forced Mike's head forward hard against his chest. "Give?"
His opponet muttered and tried to push his head back. "Give?" More pressure.
"Okay."
They got up. "One fall for the presidential party!" cried the self-appointed announcer. They shook hands and parted, one looking none too pleased with himself and the other carefully rubbing a tender crotch. A fellow football team member made room for Dave on his couch, and clapped him on the back. "Good job." Dave leaned back and rubbed the sweat from his neck on the back of the couch.
Danny and Ty took the mat, loosening up while the spectators shouted encouragement. "Let's go, studs." They touched hands and began to circle. Dave sat catching his breath and gazing at the two fresh combatants. The lighting in the big room had been reduced to a single overhead fixture, and the shadows played off the two sculpted physiques as they moved back and forth. Ty's abs showed off spectacularly, as did the muscles in Danny's calves and his thick haunches. They circled some more and Dave was suddenly admiring Ty's equally spectacular ass. He swallowed. He also smiled as he noticed his couch mate's hand idly grope the fly of his jeans. Dave slowly stretched out until his left leg was pressing against the other's right leg. His teammate glanced down and grinned a little.
The wrestlers suddenly went into high gear, grabbing for an arm, locking up chest to chest, lifting, shoving, grappling, then disengaging to launch a fresh attack. After many inconclusive clinches, during which the surrounding brothers went ballistic with advice, experience and strength prevailed. Danny got behind, took his grip and with a mighty heave he suplexed Ty onto his back. "Oof!" Danny fell on him and pivoted to the side. One arm went around the dazed fighter's neck and the other grabbed his near leg. Danny thrust a hip beneath Ty's butt to lift it off the mat and locked his hands together for a pin. Ty fought back with powerful sprinter legs, locking one foot behind its opposing knee and kicking with all his might. Danny's lock was broken and Ty rolled away onto his hands and knees.
"Nice one," grunted Danny. But he didn't again allow his opponent to regain his feet. Limbs intertwined in quickly changing combinations, they rolled from one corner to the other and back, but Danny never again relinquished control. Ty's endurance seemed limitless, but exhaustion slowly drained him of the ability to stay off his back. Danny trapped his left arm behind him with a hammer lock. He half-nelsoned his rival's head and slowly maneuvered
Ty onto his back. Muscles flaring, the footballer bridged for as long as he could, again and again thrusting his pelvis high off the mat, but finally his shoulders sank and stayed there.
The onlookers had encouraged Ty's valiant resistance, but once the inevitability of a pin became obvious they became quiet. Dave held his breath. His couch mate reached over and squeezed his bicep. The fraternity members around the mat were intense, and there was ample evidence that more than a few had become aroused by that last intense clinch.
The wrestlers slowly stood and embraced. "Great match, bro."
"God, you're an ox, Dan. Thanks for the fight." They were both dripping.
The four were brought out on the mat together, and somebody raised the arms of the two champions. It was after ten, and there was no suggestion that they switch opponents for two more matches. Mike had pulled on his sweats, and as he embraced the winners he anointed them with splashes from his beer can. He threw his arms around the three other combatants, saying, "Let's go out and tie one on."
"Not on a week night," replied Danny.
"I'm bushed, pal, but thanks," said Dave.
Mike turned to his roommate, "Get your clothes on and I'll meet you at the car."
As Ty was leaving he grabbed Dave's hand and shook it hard. "Man, you're almost as good as your partner. I'm really surprised you took big Mike. You and me would be a fine match, I think."
"Thanks, Ty. You're a gutsy scrapper. Remember football turnout tomorrow, and don't drink too much."
"Don't worry. We won't booze for long. I can actually control my crazy roommate pretty good."
Some of the guys were peeling off their shirts and tossing each other around the mats. Others opened fresh beers and kibitzed or started a pig pile.
"Let's get cleaned up," said Danny. "I was real proud of you against that big horse's ass."
"Meet you in the showers."
They stood motionless under adjoining jets as the tiled room enfolded them in hot soothing steam. Two other guys were already showering when they arrived, and hailed them as they left as the undisputed house champs. Since this house was more noted for its athletics than for scholarship or wealthy families, it felt good to have their "primus inter pares" status affirmed by others. Finally relaxed and mellow, Danny began soaping his partner's chiseled back while Dave shampooed the mat grime from his hair. Dave made a little grunt as Danny's fingers wandered playfully along his wet butt crack. He rinsed the shampoo and then started in on Danny's broad back and shoulders. Danny's feet were planted apart, and without warning Dave jabbed him just below the ass with his thumb. Danny jumped and swung around with a snarl on his face.
"Help, rape! You want to start something, punk? Huh?" He threw an open-handed chop into Dave's mid-section and they began trading punches.. When Dave moved in trying to knee him, Danny reached around behind to grab a fistful of long wet hair. He yanked Dave's head backward, forcing his open mouth beneath the stream of water. Dave sputtered and broke free.
"You're trying to drown me, you cocksucker!" He charged into his buddy and they crashed against the wall.
"OK, let's quit before we get hurt. This floor's too slippery." Danny rinsed off, grabbed his towel and stepped out of the showers. "C'mon up to my room and let's cool down." Dave wrapped a towel around his waist and chased his partner up the stairs and through the door. As they toweled off both men tried to outdo the other in looking buff.
"You're holding your breath!" declared Dave. "Your belly's not that flat." Danny exhaled with a laugh and took a swipe at Dave's head. "God, you're ugly!" They clinched, towels fell, and two no-longer-fatigued bodies pivoted around the room.
"Door locked?" They broke.
"It is now."
Danny leapt across the room and jumped so high that he could wrap his legs around his guest's head. They crashed to the carpet. He mounted Dave in an old-fashioned schoolboy pin, reached back and squeezed his tit. "Oww. That hurts, dammit." Freeing his arms, Dave shoved him onto his back and rolled free. Taking top, he got an arm around Danny's neck and forced him onto his back, then with his other hand began a dutch rub to the enemy's scalp. Soon the rubs became mutual and Danny tried to dislodge his adversary by attacking his chin. Dave locked two brawny arms around Danny's neck and squeezed.
"Easy on the choke, man."
Dave pressed his face down against his buddy's cheek and started to lick his ear.
"Ew, gross! Get your slimy tongue back in your mouth, perv." Danny shook his head from side to side. Dave retailated by enveloping the entire ear with his teeth. It tickled and his victim began to jerk wildly.
"I give, I give." But then when Dave let go he quickly straddled him and pinned both arms underneath his legs. Positioning his head directly above Dave's he pursed his lips and began making spit.
His startled victim stared up into his tormentor's face. "No. You're not gonna drop slobber on me, are you? Double gross out. No!" Now it was he who shook his head from side to side.
Danny's lips formed a fish smile as the accumulated fluid descended square onto Dave's defenseless nose. "Now we're even, Shirley."
They were both so rock hard by now that they simply embraced as Danny stretched his body out over his fallen foe. Their pricks quickly became sticky and a slow coordinated grind began. Their cheeks were also damp, and as they pressed their hot faces against one another their lips almost collided. Dave took a long deep sniff of the charged atmosphere and told himself how extremely enjoyable the evening had been. Then he began to thrust upward with all his might.
Suddenly the man on top of him started to thrash and pant, and as they clutched tighter to keep in full contact they both sighed and felt several squirts of carpenter's glue force itself between their quivering bellies. Almost simultaneously they reached for their partner's hair and began massaging one another's ear lobes with their fingers. A long peaceful silence.
"Does Carla know about our workouts?" asked Dave.
"Mmm. She comes to most of my matches. She knows that you and I have been working out here at the house. Yeah, I guess she knows. Maybe not everything, but who says I know everything about what she does?" As he spoke Danny rested his chin on his friend's still-undulating chest.
"Do you and she ever wrestle?"
"What do you think? She's one of the most physical females I've ever known. Competitive and sexy. Hell, I used to wrestle with my sister. How about you?"
"You know I got no sisters. There was this girl in junior high, sort of butch but totally cute. Yeah, I guess so."
"This a problem for you?"
"Naw, I've never felt better about myself. You're a hell of a wrestler. It's just too bad you have no personality to match your over-developed torso."
"I overlook how ugly you are. And the stench, I overlook that. Maybe you can learn to be more tolerant."
"Yeah, I guess I can try. Get the fuck off me, whale. I gotta get some sleep."