Men's Wrestling Club - Beginnings

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Man receives an invitation to a men's wrestling club.
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Only a single dim, yellow light illuminated the entrance to the gym. The otherwise dark parking lot was small and filled with empty cars - so full that I had to park in the grass. The cold air clung to the silence of the black night, which, being January in Arkansas, began at 5:30 PM.

I looked once again at the postcard that had been slid under my apartment door. On one side - "Men's Wrestling Club - Thursday Night, 7 PM" in plain font, with a logo of two men standing in old-school wrestling gear, shaking hands. I'd just moved to Fayetteville a week ago and knew nobody, but this postcard was mysteriously in my apartment the day I moved in. I looked at the clock - 6:50. I braved the winter chill and jogged inside.

Inside was a dull murmur. The building was just a basketball court, outfitted with wrestling mats, and a hallway, where there was a changing room, and two older men sitting at a plastic folding table. Some men had already taken to the mats, stretching and warming up, while some were chatting quietly in the hall. I walked up to the check-in table.

"A new face," one of the old men said. He had a thick gray mustache. "Welcome. ID?"

I pulled my passport out of my sweatshirt pocket and handed it to him. He looked it over, and took my name down on paper. "From Australia, are you? What brings you here?"

"Work," I said bluntly.

"Well, whatever brings you here, we're glad to have you," he said. "We're a small group, but we have a lot of fun."

"You got a suit?" the other old man asked. He was thin and had hair that had clearly been dyed black. "You can't wrestle without a suit."

"I, uh, don't have one," I said. "I didn't know what to bring."

"No trouble," mustache said. "We have an extra around just in case - though, it's nothing special." He handed me a gray cotton singlet.

"Thank you," I said.

"What's your wrestling name?" the slim one asked. "You need a wrestling name for us to put on the bracket. Doesn't have to be your real name - people here call me Goldy."

"You can use your real name, though! I'm Ron," the mustachioed man said with a smile.

"Uh..." I hesitated, without a clue on what to call myself.

"I'll put you down as Roo," Goldy said. "Like kangaroo, Aussie. You okay with that?"

"Sure," I said.

"Welcome, Roo," Ron said. "You should probably get changed - we'll start in about fifteen."

I nodded, and headed towards the changing room. There were about ten men inside. Some men wore classic wrestling singlets, while others wore uniforms with low cut necklines that exposed almost their entire abdomen. Some men had clearly foregone underwear under their attire, their bulges sticking out and leaving little to the imagination. Most had some kind of underwear on. I couldn't imagine going commando under my singlet.

"Hey, you look lost," a smiling, broad-shouldered man said to me. He had red hair and wore a classic green singlet, which highlighted his toned, muscular torso and pinkish skin. "Am I right in guessing you're new?"

"That obvious, huh?" I asked.

"Oh, and an accent? Well, welcome - they call me Spot around here, because, well... spots," he said, pointing at his face.

"I'm, uh, Roo," I said. "I just moved here from Australia."

"Nice! Well, we have a pretty simple tournament set up tonight. It's actually our annual tournament, where the winner and runner-up go to the state tournament. Have you wrestled before?"

"A little," I said.

"Cool. We have all skill levels in this group, so hopefully it'll be fun."

"Good to know, thanks, Spot."

"No problem," he smiled. "I'm going to go stretch out - hope we get to wrestle!"

I smiled, and changed. Other than one other man I'd seen stretching earlier, I was the only non-white man there. I'm six feet tall even, with darker, Latin skin I got from my Brazilian mother. I had curly, dark brown hair that I kept short, but strange, green eyes, which must have come from my father. I wouldn't know - we'd never met. I was an athlete in university, and kept my body in shape - I'd always had an athletic build, and kept the discipline to stay fit.

I kept my simple white briefs on and slipped on the singlet - it was a bit snug on me in some areas, and was far too loose of a fabric for good wrestling, but it would be enough for the night.

I joined the rest of the men on the mats and stretched a little before Goldy got up on a bench. "Okay, gents, let's get started. We've got a 16 man draw tonight, thanks to our newcomer, Roo." Someone clapped politely. "Here's the lineup," he said, and read out a list. I'd be up against someone called Billy on mat 4, in round B.

I watched the other matches, seeing some skill and talent from a few competitors. Goldy and Ron refereed one match each, and two other volunteers reffed the other two matches. Spot was one of the volunteers, and from what I could tell, everyone played fair.

When it was my turn, I took to the mat. My opponent, Billy, was about 5' 7", and was slim built. I easily had sixty pounds on him.

"Let's have fun," Billy said, smiling and shaking my hand.

"Uh, yeah," I said. He seemed optimistic, despite his disadvantage.

As expected, I pinned him seconds after the match started. He didn't seem to resist much, as he went down easily. When the ref called it in my favor, Billy wrapped an arm around me, seemingly trying to keep me pressed against him for an extra moment. I politely got up. "Good job," I said, reaching my hand out to help him up. He graciously accepted defeat, and happily moved off to the side.

In my round, Spot also moved forward. He seemed skilled as well, beating his opponent swiftly.

The next round, the top eight wrestled in the second set of matches, and the losers bracket began in the first. I wrestled a man named Miller, who matched me in weight but not in muscle. I maneuvered him quickly into a victory.

I sat down to have a sip of water, and Spot came up to me. "Hey, I won, too! Looks like we'll face each other next."

"Cool," I said. "You're pretty good."

"Thanks," he said, blushing. "I try."

"So, what's the state championship? You mentioned it before."

"The top two performers tonight make it to state," he said. "There's eight divisions here in Arkansas, so the state championship is a round of sixteen as well. I actually made state last year, and it's pretty fun."

"How big is this organization?" I asked.

"Oh, it's international," Spot said. "Well, at least all of North America. They hold the championship at a different place each year, but it's a big deal, tons of donors."

"Donors?" I asked.

"Yeah, some wealthy guys in this club invest a lot in the higher levels to watch the matches and get to know the players. At some level, there's a magazine that goes out before a tournament with profiles on the wrestlers."

"Oh, wow," I said. "I didn't realize it was so big."

"It's pretty cool," he said. "From what I can tell, everyone's pretty encouraging. Just a great group of guys who love wrestling."

I nodded. "Alright, semi-finals, we have Razer versus Bully, and Spot versus Roo."

Spot pointed to a Black man on the other side of the room. "That's Bully - he's been the number one in our chapter for a while. I hear he has a coach."

He was a large man, perhaps with a few inches on me in height, and maybe had 10 more pounds on me. His bulk seemed pretty balanced, as he had solid definition in his arms and chest. He had a bald head and curly chest hair that poked out from the neckline of his crimson singlet.

"Too bad you won't be wrestling him tonight," Spot said. "Cause I'm about to beat your ass." he smiled playfully, and jumped up and took to the mat.

I smiled and joined him. Ron reffed our match, and we started in standard position.

Ron blew his whistle, and we grappled. He was fast and strong, and got me on one knee, but I reversed and got him on the ground on his side. He escaped a pin, and we went back and forth for a bit, before the period ended with me having more points.

Spot seemed surprised by losing the round, and I watched his expression grow more serious. I could tell from his style that he got frustrated when things didn't go his way - and I could prey on that.

The next period started, and I got a near fall on him almost immediately. He got a bit desparate, trying to get up quickly, so I kept using his haste to keep him off balance and keep getting points. At the end of the period, I was up by 14 points - the match was over.

"Nice sweat," I said, reaching my hand out to help him up.

He took a deep breath, and smiled. "Maybe I shouldn't have been so nice to you - you're tough!" he said, grabbing my hand. I helped him up, and he gave me a small hug. "You better win this now," he said, slapping my ass a bit.

I'd be facing Bully in the final. The losers bracket continued as I waited, and third place was decided - Spot beat Razer, and made the top three for the night.

The last match of the night was me versus Bully. "Who's ready to see me win again?" Bully cheered, and everyone booed playfully - Bully was clearly some form of heel.

"Alright, men, let's get this going," Goldy said. "We have our reigning champ, Bully, versus our newcomer, Roo. Both men will represent our chapter in the state championship, so we're proud of both. Everyone ready?"

The crowd cheered. We took our starting positions.

"Alright," Goldy said. "Begin!"

He blew the whistle, and we dove into it. Bully's force was intense - he actually got me on the ground in our first move. I escaped and recovered, and then we both got each other to the mat. I thought we were even for the rest of the period, but by the end, I was down by five.

"Come on, Roo!" Spot cheered.

I took a deep breath. The first period, against tougher opponents, is often an information-gathering bout, more than a points game. What I do with the information, and how I capitalize on it for the rest of the match, is in my hands. It's my secret weapon.

Goldy blew his whistle. I immediately moved towards Bully's right side - he'd been favoring his left in the first period. Even though he had a size advantage on me, I knew I could use his body against him. He tried to stop me, but once I got him in a defensive position, I was able to get him down to the ground. We struggled on the mat - our muscles pressed against each other, our sweat pooling on the mat, our breath competing for oxygen - until I had an opening. I got him on his back - both shoulder blades, and before he could react, I pinned him. Goldy blew the whistle, and it was over.

The crowd cheered, and several men lifted me up. Bully stayed on the ground a moment, catching his breath, before he got up himself. "Good match, Rookie," he said. "You took us all by surprise tonight."

There was a short medal ceremony - I was given a gold medal, and Ron took a picture of the top three, then we returned the medals to them. Men began to file out. Spot gave me his contact, and we texted each other. He was something I hadn't expected to find that night - a friend.

Bully approached me as I left the changing room. "Good match tonight," he said, shaking my hand again. He held it as we talked.

"Thank you," I said.

"I know you're new here, so you don't know our traditions," Bully said. "But, if you're interested, I'd like to invite you to celebrate tonight at my home."

As he held my hand and looked into my eyes, I could tell this was no ordinary wrestling club. "Sure," I said. "I'd appreciate that."

He smiled and nodded. "You can follow after me."

We went to the parking lot, and I saw him get in an expensive black BMW. I was renting a car for the time being, and I followed him, driving about 20 minutes to his house. It was a medium-sized home in a nice gated neighborhood.

I pulled in his driveway, and he walked me to the front door. "You have a beautiful home," I said.

"Thank you," he gruffed. "Give me a moment to put a fire on."

We walked inside, and he disappeared into an adjacent room. His foyer was decorated with beautiful art, and the whole place was decorated with expensive, antique taste. An upscale cabin theme throughout, along with a large taxidermy deer head hung right above the front door exuded a wealthy masculinity.

"Come in here," his voice called from the room. I entered a reading room with comfy leather chairs seated around a lit, cozy stone fireplace. In the center of the room was a bearskin rug, and on it stood Bully's nude figure, illuminated solely by the fire.

I crossed the room and stood in front of him. Light from the flame and shadows danced across his bulky frame. His large, semi-hard uncut cock hung out in front of him like an open handshake.

I took off my clothes and stood before him, letting my full body feel the warmth from the fire and the heat radiating off of Bully. Like on the mat, we breathed the small amount of air in the few inches between us, but unlike the mat, we weren't competing for it - we shared it. Our growing dicks touched each other as we stood, our plump cockheads pushing beyond our foreskins. Even without the fire, the heat between us could stave off the winter night.

I kissed him, and our dirty bodies merged. He pulled me in as our lips and tongues tasted the lust leaking from our lungs. Our penises grew harder as our bodied touched, his hands exploring my pecs and nipples, and my hands wandering his back and perfect bubble ass.

We took to the ground, and I let him position his cock above my mouth as he positioned his head over my dick, and we began to suck each other. The taste of his precum blended with the musk of his sweaty body into a euphoric, manly melody that sent waves of pleasure throughout my body. His otherwise gruff exterior contrasted his delicate, cozy mouth that wanted me. In length we seemed about even, at around 8 inches. I had a nice thickness on my dick, and his was even thicker, stretching my jaw as I wanted to please as much of him as I could.

As I could feel electricity building in both of us, he separated himself, and positioned himself on all fours. The glow of the fire dispelled the shadows of his ass and revealed a beautiful, tight asshole adorned with curly black hair. "Fuck me," he said sweetly.

My face was drawn to him, as my nose and tongue delved into his most vulnerable region. The reek of his sweat almost made me cum instantly, so I paced myself, building my tolerance for his strong, sexy odor until I was able to fully bury my senses in it. His tight rosebud opened up to the massages of my tongue, and I greedily used my finger to open him up and to allow my tongue to explore deeper. His cock stayed rock hard as I savored his manliness.

Seemingly unable to speak, he pointed a hand to a chair, where he had placed a bottle of lube. I grabbed it and applied it generously to my cock, and worked it into his hole with two fingers. I teased his opening with my cockhead, before letting my shaft run up his ass crack. In his moan I heard frustration and longing - he didn't want to be teased.

Applying a bit of pressure, I entered him. From his tightness and hesitation I could tell he did this infrequently, but his relaxed posture and position showed his willingness and desire for my occupation. Within a couple minutes I was inside him deeply, my balls swinging to tap his taint as I thrust in and out of his tender hole. Our moans communicated mutual pleasure, and moaning was all we could do, as our minds were too consumed by lust to form words.

He removed me from him as he stood up, pushing me on my back, as he knelt above me and mounted me. He took control, riding my dick and bringing the entrance of his hole to the base of my shaft. His body bounced gently above me, his pecs bobbing like a boat in water, and his dick swinging heavily with each movement, tapping my abdomen.

We couldn't maintain it much longer - our bodies wanted each other too much to resist. I watched him push himself down, taking all of what I could give him inside himself, as he jerked his cock. Within moments, his creamy load erupted from him, white globs flying onto my abs, chest, face, and into the open embrace of my mouth. My own eruption followed - he kept himself deep on me as I filled him, pumping my denied balls empty into his deepest recesses. I felt like we were suffocating, our breath not able to keep up with our passion. He removed himself from me, my seed dripping out of him and onto the bearskin rug as he collapsed beside me, and I remember us holding each other before I fell asleep, exhausted.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

I woke the next morning to the smell of freshly brewed coffee. I still lay on the bearskin rug, naked except for a blanket that had been placed over me. Morning light poured through the window.

"Good morning," I said, standing up and following the smells of the kitchen.

"Morning," Bully said. He had put on a robe, and left it untied, his dick hanging out of the front flaccid."You're a demon on the mat."

"The mat? Or the bear?" I teased, and he chuckled.

"Both," he responded. "The bear is fake, by the way. Same with the deer up front - I just like the look."

"Cool," I said. He handed me a coffee, and we drank.

"My real name is Marcus Ford, by the way," he said. "The Bully persona is just what I put on for wrestling nights, have a little fun as the bad guy."

"I like it," I said. "My real name is Del Reyes."

"Nice to meet you," Marcus said. We sat in silence for a moment, sipping our coffee. "I have to get going here, I've got to get to work."

I looked at the clock - I forgot it was Friday. It was 8, and I had no idea how far it was back to my apartment to change for work.

"Shit, me too," I said. "Do you mind if I shower here, before I go?"

"Only if you don't mind me joining you," he said. We went to his room and showered together, kissing a few times and groping lightly, but neither of us had time for anything more. I said goodbye, got Marcus's number, and headed to my car. Luckily, it was only 20 minutes back to my apartment, and I could work from home that day.

As I arrived at my apartment and gathered my things, I once again saw the mysterious postcard that had appeared in my apartment. I flipped it over, re-reading the message written on the back - the real reason I went to the wrestling club the night before. "Del - if you want to meet your father, the path starts here."

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yowseryowserabout 1 year ago

Always like a good wrassling story. Sweet descriptions, invigorating action.

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