I’m going to wail on Mike the next time I see him,” I thought as I walk down into Brad’s basement gym. Mike and I have been on our college wrestling team for two semesters. After putting up with Brad’s well-to-do boasting and meagre wins at tournaments, Mike and I decided to give our team-mate some practice by challenging him and Russ, one of Brad’s patsies, to a tag team match.
Being the only child of a prominent lawyer, gives Brad all the spoils. His family gym is packed; workout machines, one wall lined with mirrors, and in the far corner leading out to a pool is a 12 x 12 mat. “Where’s your girlfriend?” Brad asks as he returns two dumbbells to their rack. “Mike is not my girlfriend. I don’t know where he is?” “Well, I guess we’ll just start without him,” sides Russ as he stretches his muscles preparing for the match. “How can we have a tag match if I don’t have a partner?” I argue.
“No worries,” Brad begins, “the three of us will tag in and out. Each of us can be stationed at three separate corners of the mat.” Edgy, I reply, “I don’t know about that.” “You were the one who said I needed the practice. So, come on. Or are you afraid I might beat you?”
Setting my bag on a weight bench, I pull out my singlet and boots. Russ chuckles, “Man, are you for real?” As I kick off my tennis shoes and pull off my t-shirt, I counter, “Now what is wrong?” “Nothing, dude, but I didn’t know that this was going to be some kind of serious thing. Do you always wrestle in that “get-up”?” Russ looks over at Brad and they both begin to laugh. Heated, I ignore my gear and pace over to one corner of the mat.
“Fine, I can wrestle in my shorts. It’s no big deal.” “Easy, easy, man,” Brad exclaims, “we’re just going to practice. That’s all.” Brad pulls off his tank top revealing a body that takes full advantage of this gym. Russ soon follows, and though he is physically the shortest of the group, his stocky frame presents itself as a worthy opponent. Brad gives Russ an odd glance as he steps onto the mat. “Okay, three opponents, three corners, three rules.”
“This is not going to be good,” I thought. Brad lists the rules, “Number one - If you get tired and want a break, you can tag out. Number two “ If you get your opponent in a submission hold he cannot break, he will automatically be tagged out. Finally, anything goes in getting your opponent into a submission hold.” “Shit.” I kneel down on my corner of the mat. “Dude, we’re here to practice,” Russ beams. “Brad, why don’t you and I go first?”
Brad and Russ circle in the centre of the mat as I sit in my corner watching them. With his golden locks of hair, Brad’s tan body mirrors a tall, broad knight ready to battle. Russ snickers as he paces his olive, toned body around his opponent. Once they lock up, Brad quickly takes advantage of his height and places Russ in a headlock. Using his right leg Brad trips his opponent down to the mat without loosing his hold. Kneeling on the mat, Brad tightens his grip around Russ’s head and neck. Russ’s extended body kicks and slaps the mat. Brad quickly rolls forward pulling his friend over his body till Russ’s back smacks against the mat.
Letting go of his stunned adversary, Brad hurriedly turns and straddles Russ’s chest. He reaches back and takes hold of his opponent’s legs, lifts them, and secures Russ in a forward roll-up. “What are you gonna do, man? What are you gonna do?” Brad taunts. I watch in amazement as Russ’s legs flex and contract. In one swift strike, Russ straightens his legs and reverses Brad back into a seated roll-up.
“I gotcha now, dude.” Russ is winded, but maintains his control over Brad’s coiled body. With his weight bending Brad’s back, Russ takes hold of his opponent’s flailing legs and begins to apply a leg split. Russ’s taut arms spread Brad’s leg as far apart as possible. Brad moans in anguish while he alternates smacking the mat and protecting his stretched out groin. What happened next completely takes me off guard. Russ releases one of the legs and places his thumb into the back of Brad’s shorts. In one sudden swoop, he pulls Brad’s shorts down to his knees.
Exposing Brad’s jockstrap, Russ laughs hysterically as he repetitively slaps his opponent’s ass. Pinkish, hand-sized marks glow off Brad’s ass. “Stop, man! I submit.” Russ gives two more pops to Brad’s ass before he finally releases his hold and rolls his opponent over. “Man, you’re wack!” groans Brad as he steadies himself to a standing position. Russ smirks back, “You said anything, dude.” With his shorts still dangling around his knees, Brad simply steps out of them and kicks them off in his corner.
His ass begins to loose its flush as he exposes it to the room. Sitting down in his jock and towelling off, Brad looks at me, “Well, are you going to let him catch his breath or are you going to wrestle?” Not knowing now what to expect, I quickly rush out onto the mat. Russ promptly meets me at full force with a forearm to my gut. Doubled over and gasping to catch my breath, I feel Russ grabbing my right leg and lifting it up behind me.
The momentum causes me to land face first onto the mat. Russ straddles my body and takes hold of my legs. As he raises them up, I sense that he is lowering himself into a Boston crab. My lower back shudders as Russ bends my legs further back. “Man, this guy is the one who needs to practice,” barks Russ to Brad. I grit my teeth despite the fact that Russ is nowhere near releasing his hold. Then, Russ frees my left leg and begins to apply more torture to my right.
He bends and pulls till I think my body would snap. Suddenly, I feel a hand wind down into my shorts' leg. Just like a snake, it strikes my balls and maintains a grasp of agony. “Man, this guy ain’t wearing a jock!” Russ cries over to Brad. “What?” “This dude is going commando,” Russ continues and squeezes my balls even tighter. Over my cries of submission, Brad laughs, “No way, man, let’s see.” Russ releases his holds, letting my legs fall to the floor. Between the burning sensation in my lower back and balls, I suffer from Russ yanking my shorts off and exposing me for Brad’s enjoyment.
“You look tired, Russ. Do you want to tag out?” Brad says with a shit-eating grin. Just as I roll over, I hear the partners tag their hands in laughter. Brad lies next to my uncovered body and rolls me between his legs. Once his feet are locked, he squeezes his leg scissors into my lower back and gut. As Russ laughs uncontrollably in his corner, Brad locks my right arm and pulls it.
Brad answers my submissions with the excuse that Russ tagged first and needs to rest before another tagging. “But, you don’t seem to mind,” Brad resumes, “it seems that you are getting into this match anyway.” Being released from Russ’s grip, my balls exhibit their approval for freedom by enlarging my dick. Brad tightens his scissor hold, “Damn, man, how big does this guy get?” Freeing my arm, he reaches down to my growing cock, and begins to stroke it to full erection.
“Stop. I submit.” “No way, dude. It keeps getting bigger,” Brad smirks. “No. This was not part of your rules. I submit.” Russ hollers from his corner, “Aw, come on. You like it.” That is all I could take. I drive my free hands into Brad’s crotch. Once secured, I squeeze his balls till he frees his hold of me. As we both fight to maintain control of his crotch, I leap upon him in a schoolboy pin. My hardened eight inch cock bobs inches from his face. “Take it!” “No!” “Take it and I’ll let go.”
I squeeze Brad’s balls till he cries out, “Nooooooo!” As soon as his mouth is open, I slide my cock against his gaping jaws. “Take it!” Brad howls for his partner, “Russ!” Shit, where is Russ? I look over my shoulder and I see Russ jacking his 7 inch dick as he watches Brad writhe in pain. Kneeling on the back of his legs, a now naked Russ stares in bewilderment as my rigid cock bounces against his partner’s face.
“Dude, man, just take it.” Within a beat, I have my cock sliding in and out of Brad’s wide mouth. I align my body over his and begin doing push-ups over Brad’s face. Now that his balls are free from my clutches, Brad massages them with mercy. His stiffening cock emerges at the top of his jock. Russ soon joins us. While he frees Brad’s thickening cock from its jockstrap, Russ kisses my tight ass as it nods over Brad.
I stop my movement to allow Russ some control with his attention. To no surprise, he stops the sporadic kisses and begins to lick and eat the crack of my ass. Brad does not stop his assistance to my cock either. Once I stop my movement, Brad quickly takes control and works my heavy knob down below. “Dude, I need to see that monster one more time,
” Russ asks sliding his hand between my legs and tugging my balls slightly. I roll off Brad, and both my opponents fly in to worship my dick. I never have had a tongue bath like this one. As they feast on me, I watch them pull and play with each other’s stiff cocks. Brad laps my balls as Russ attempts to take all of me down his waiting throat. The building moment can be felt within us all. Moans and gasps rise with escalating passion that we have to seek release.
Finally, I grab my dick from Russ’s mouth and after two strokes, I cum in a high arch over the three of us. Russ and Brad jerk off with a tangent till each shoots his load across our bodies. Russ is the first to speak, “Damn, that was fuckin” fantastic!” Brad agrees, “Sure was.” Finally, I add, “It’s a pity that Mike didn’t make it for the tag match.” Russ and Brad start laughing again.
Confused, I ask, “What?” From behind a closet holding a camcorder, Mike appears with a comical grin. “Man, ever since you’ve been waving that thing around in the locker room, we had to see it in action.” “And you taped it? You taped the whole match? Everything?” “From the time you came in till you came uh up.” Mike strolls closer to the trio. I can only respond, “Dude, you all are fuckin” crazy.”
“So, you’re not upset?” I look over to Brad and Russ with a knowing smile. “Tag!” and I smack Mike on the hand. Instantly, Brad and Russ pull Mike down to the mat, tearing his clothes off. email@example.com">firstname.lastname@example.org