Real Estate Entanglements - Pt. 01

I had been living on the west coast and, due to a promotion at work (and recent break-up with a philandering actor boyfriend) needed a place to live out east. I was on a short-term lease at an apartment I felt was too expensive for what I was getting and wanted to find a home of my own. So, on a beautiful Sunday I found myself driving around looking for open-houses. I hadn't found a Realtor for myself but -- as I was bored and wanting to check out the lay of the land - I decided to see what was being listed and, if possible, talk with some potential agents to see if any were worth giving my business to.

The first houses I found were not for me. Cookie-cutter homes with tiny rooms and few unique features. I didn't want the same house as everyone else in the neighborhood. I wanted it to be something special and unique. I had almost resigned myself to the fact that nothing was going to jump out at me when I made a wrong turn and ended up on a road that wound through a part of town I had never been in and headed out into a more rural area. I kept telling myself to "turn around" but something compelled me to keep driving, and to my surprise I saw an "open house" sign along the side of the road five minutes later.

I remember chuckling to myself and thinking "either that sign has been here for months or the real estate agent thinks anybody drives on this road." I had been driving for twenty minutes and had not seen another car. Still, it was worth the risk to see if there was indeed a house available and open for inspection ... so I followed the arrow on the sign and turned up a side road.

A few moments later and I saw it. A gorgeous house nestled within a small community of about fifteen houses that all looked inviting and -- most importantly -- none looked the same as the other. They weren't mansions but they were all very nice. I saw the "open house" sign in front of the one at the end of the road and thought two things: "I'm not going to be able to afford it" and "if I can afford it, this is the home I am going to move into."

There were no cars in front and, according to the sign, I only had fifteen minutes before the open-house was finished so I pulled in front and hurried to the door. I stepped inside and was welcomed into a cozy foyer complete with hardwood floors and fine wood trim and ...

... and then I was welcomed by the real estate agent. He walked in from the rear of the house and I'm sure my mouth dropped open a little. He was at least six foot two and wore a charcoal gray suit that fit him as if it were custom made for his body -- which was slim and taught and obviously well taken care of. His hair was a dirty blonde and styled carefully. Everything about him was well put together and appealing. He smiled and extended his hand.

"Hi, I'm Randy ... thanks for stopping by."

For a moment I couldn't think of my own name but finally I remembered it, smiled and shook his hand.

"Come in, let me show you around." And he showed me the house in detail -- extolled the wonderful layout of the first floor and showed me the three over-sized bedrooms on the second floor. Every room we entered, every corner we turned made me fall in love with this house more and more. Randy pointed out the features and the taxes and what the schools were like in this area. I was half-listening to what he was saying, I was focused more on the way his mouth moved or how his tight buttocks looked as he walked up the stairs ahead of me.

"Are you from the area?" he said - the usual Realtor small talk.

"No," I said "I moved here for my job. I'm originally from Los Angeles."

"LA! Well, this neck of the woods is going to take some getting used to I think. It's awfully quiet around here!"

"I think I could use a little peace and quiet" I said politely.

"But not in the bedroom, right?!" He laughed and I laughed with him, not really sure if the tone of his question was the slightest bit suggestive -- but hoping it was.

"It is beautiful in the winter out here" he said as he headed down the stairs towards the living room.

"I'm not a fan of winter," I said honestly. I hated snow. However, I loved all the money I was being paid to move here for my job so I could handle four months of winter.

"So, no skiing or snowboarding for you?" he asked as we entered the kitchen.

"No" I said "I'm more interested in indoor sports."

He smiles politely as we started heading back downstairs. "That's what I figured by looking at you. I could see that you keep yourself in shape. That's why I wanted to save this part of the house to show you until last ... I think it's going to cinch it for you!"

He opened a door and we headed down to the basement and I was, indeed, impressed. It was finished but not in the wood panel and shag carpet of most finished basements ... this one was ready for a fitness center that would have made any professional trainer jealous. There was no equipment in it, but you could see the potential. A wall of mirrors to admire your workout, a bathroom with Jacuzzi tub and shower was off to the side, and a curious area in the corner covered with what looked like -- and I would know better than anyone - wrestling mats.

"The previous owner had the mats put in for his judo lessons," Randy explained. "He ran several studios in the area. The way had had them installed it was easier to just leave them. He was hoping the next owner would be an athletic person who would appreciate having them."

I walked over to the mats and stepped on the corner of one. Soft, not mushy like some of the wrestling mats I had been on and certainly better than any of the motel mattress I had rolled around on.

Randy cleared his throat "what sort of indoor sports do you like? We couldn't be so lucky as to hope one of them was judo?"

We both laughed a little.

"Wrestling" I said, matter of fact.

Randy smiled. "I'm not sure if you mean the sport or the kind you do with a woman in the bedroom?"

I smiled and turned to him "it would be with a man, actually."

"Oh?" he said. It wasn't an "oh" like he was surprised -- more like he was happy to hear that.

"I hope that doesn't bother you?"

"Not at all!" he said as he stepped closer to the wrestling mats. "Of course, it's not often a potential client gets so intimate with their personal life."

"I'm sure you don't want to hear all the details about it." I said. Randy walked up closer to me and smiled.

"Maybe you're right" he said stepping onto the mat with me, looking at me. "It's probably one of those things that you're better off demonstrating?"

I took a step closer to Randy. "The problem is, Randy ... the kind of wrestling I would be using these mats for isn't collegiate style -- or even the crap you see on television on Saturday."

"What kind is it?" Randy asked, obviously intent on finding out.

I took one more step towards him -- we were now about a foot apart. "Naked." I said and paused a moment to let that sink in. "Erotic wrestling."

"Like foreplay?" he asked, hopefully. Yes, I'm certain he was asking hopefully.

"Depends on the opponent. It could end up in bed or we could end up just having drinks and saying goodnight."

He smiled and said "sounds pretty hot. You've wrestled that way a lot?"

"Once I got into a relationship I stopped. But before that I was quite a contender ... I had two or three matches every week."

"That sounds amazing" he said. "And how would you win a match? Pin? Submission?"

I realized Randy knew a lot about wrestling ... and I felt the twitching in my boxer briefs getting more intense and was afraid I was soon going to start filling up my already tight jeans.

"No," I said as I turned towards the stairs. I knew if I answered him honestly our conversation would probably end. Anyway, I was probably just imagining that he was being as interested as he was ... this could be nothing more than an attempt at making a sale on a house.

"Come on," he said. "How do you decide on a winner?"

"The first guy to ... orgasm." I let that sink in a moment. Randy didn't react. He just stood there staring at me. "I know ... pretty strange, huh?"

He took a step closer -- we were now almost nose to nose. "I don't think it's strange ... I think it sounds pretty interesting. Especially when you've done this so many times. How many matches did you win?"

"All of them" I said.

"So, that kind of makes you the champion of the west coast?"

"Not champion ... but someone who knows a few tricks."

He moved up in front of me ... almost nose-to-nose. "Then maybe what you need is a few lessons in how we wrestle out here on the east coast?"

My cock pulsed now, stirring and getting ready for a fight. He winked at me slightly as he said it, waiting for me to respond.

"What did you have in mind?" I said.

"The open-house has been over for a half hour and the owners are in Minnesota so they won't be coming home ... why don't we see how much you like these mats on the floor? I mean, how can you tell if they're going to serve their purpose if you're not able to try them out?"

"You mean ... now?" I said.

"Do you have to be somewhere?" he asked, a bit disappointed.

"Of course not." Even if I had to be somewhere I would have canceled it. "It's just that ..."

"Relax," he said with that butter-melting smile of his. "No strings attached. I'm only doing my duty as a Realtor. Giving the house a trial run to see if it's going to meet your needs if you purchase it. And, besides ... I think the west coast champion deserves a match against a cocky east coast challenger ... don't you?"

How could I argue with this logic? I smiled back and nodded.

"Let me go lock up," he said as he headed towards the stairs.

"Won't the neighbors wonder why my car is still here?"

"If they ask -- which they won't -- I'll tell them you're my co-worker and you came to help me clean the basement. While I'm gone, why don't you get ready? Try out the shower if you like?"

Randy went upstairs and I went into the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. I was wondering if I knew what I was doing -- allowing myself to be locked in a basement with someone I didn't know -- but then I realized that it was no different than all of the other times I had met somebody in a motel, or their office, or their bedroom ... not knowing what to expect and certainly not knowing if they were as "safe" and "sane" as they claimed to be.

I stripped out of my clothing down to my boxer briefs and stepped back into the basement where Randy was taking off his suit.

"You leaving the underpants on?" he asked, a bit disappointed.

"I don't want to make this too easy for you," I said. He nodded and pulled off his pants. He was wearing briefs and a t-shirt and when he pulled the t-shirt off I saw that the amazing body I had suspected was underneath his suit was just that -- amazing. He had big pecs with nice nipples that were already protruding in the chilly basement air. My eyes trailed down his abdomen, following a line of fine blonde hairs to the bulge in his briefs. I was certain that what was in his underpants was just as impressive as the rest of him.

Clad only in out underpants we went to the mat and stood opposite each other, staring at each other, sizing each other up.

"Nice" he said. I was pleased to hear it. I had been a little lazy in my gym regiment lately but was glad he still liked what he was looking at. "Too bad about those boxer briefs ... but they won't be on you for long."

"It takes more than threats to defeat me, pal." I said with my fighting tone. It had been a while since I spoke with the cocky fighter's arrogance I used to when I wrestled. It felt good.

"So, what are the rules?" he asked.

"No scratching, no trying to kill each other, nothing gets broken."

He nodded his agreement.

"Other than that ... anything goes."

"Anything?" he asked with the malicious glee of a child who just discovered he could burn ants with a magnifying glass.

"First let's see what you're able to do ... if we don't like something, just say 'computer' and we stop."

"Computer. Got it. Are you ready to get your ass kicked?"

"Fuck you," I said. "I didn't lose one match on the west coast, I'm certainly not going to lose to some cocky punk my first time out here!"

"We'll see!" Randy said as he leaned down a bit, his arms out in front of him. He stretched one arm out to shake.

"May the best man win?" he said.

I figured this would be a good test of his caliber so I shook his hand. He was sincere about it. A good, solid handshake. Then we moved apart and began to circle each other. Randy made the first move -- he struck with a speed and strength I hadn't expected. He grabbed me around my waist and swiped one of his legs behind mine, pushing into me so that I stumbled backwards and landed flat on my back. The instant I hit the ground his hands were on the waistband of my boxer-briefs and he pulled them down my legs and off of me -- tossing them to the corner.

"Not bad?" he said looking down at me, smirking.

"Not bad at all" I said. He stood over me, smiling. I waited for his next move but he reached his hand out and helped me up onto my feet.

So, now I was naked and he wasn't ... I had to do something about that quickly. We moved in again and this time I slipped behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist, picking him up and throwing him down to the mat on his stomach. He let out a loud "ooof" as he hit the floor. As he had done I reached for his briefs but he growled "oh, no!" and spun onto his back. He lifted his legs and locked his ankles on either side of my neck and before I could brace myself he yanked his legs to his right and I flew down to the mat. He was on top of me in an instant, straddling me and pinning my arms to my side. He stared down at me.

"Want me naked ... want to even the score, huh? Not going to happen that easily, I'm afraid! You have to work to get me to cum, bitch!"

He didn't know this but I hated to be called "bitch!" I grunted and tried to break out from underneath him but the little fucker was strong. I looked at the bulge in his groin which was now straining against the fabric of his briefs. Then with as much force as I could manage I roared and pushed myself up into a sitting position -- forcing Randy backwards onto the mat. I lifted my legs and forced them down on his shoulders. He was now bent backwards and struggling to sit back up. I took the waistband of his briefs ...

"No! No, no, no!" he begged -- apparently hoping to keep his advantage as long as he could but I yanked down on his briefs.

His cock sprung from within -- and it was a monster. I am by no means "small." I have always considered myself -- at best -- to be average. I am usually at least as large or slightly larger than my opponents but this time -- as Randy's beast appeared -- I knew I was fighting an opponent with a much larger "weapon." It had to be nine inches and it was so thick that, even though sex was not on the horizon, I could feel my anus pucker in fear.

Still pinned on his back he looked down at me and his cock and smiled "I hope you're able to handle it, stud! So few boys are able to tame that little monster of mine!"

I smiled back -- a cocky, arched lip smile as I stared hungrily at the salami laying in front of me. "Maybe you need to wrestle more men" and I grabbed his cock and gave it a firm squeeze. I pulled it so it was pointing straight up at the ceiling and began to struck it.

"Oh! Oh, fuck!" Randy said -- his humor faded. "You go for the kill right away, don't you?"

I didn't answer. I didn't even nod. I was back in the fight zone and was focused on teaching this cocky, well-endowed hunk that he had not just stepped into the ring with some pushover. I may not "technically" have been a champion on the west coast -- but I still never lost a match. And I was certainly not going to lose today.

Randy maneuvered his way out from beneath my legs and managed to roll to the side. My hand released his penis but my other hand held onto his briefs and as he pulled away from me I pulled them from him. Now we were both naked. I got up on my knees to attack but Randy surprised me by rolling himself back over to me -- on his back in front of me -- and opened his mouth and swallowed my cock.

"OH!" I cried out in shock and an intense wave of pleasure. "OH, SHIT! NO!!" I had only wrestled two opponents who had ever used the blowjob hold on me. Neither had been very good with it and shouldn't have bothered -- but Randy's warm mouth and tongue lovingly flicking at my cock as he slid it in and out of his mouth made my entire body tremble and intense pleasure fill me. I wanted to let him make me cum -- because I could tell from the sensation he was giving me that it was going to be a massive, body-weakening orgasm.

His hand found my balls and rolled them around playfully -- rubbing my orbs and his fingers sending shock-waves of passion up my spine and throughout my body. I am not usually a "moaner" but I threw my head back and cried "ohhhhhhhh" as he worked me over. His mouth slid my cock in and out -- not hesitating for a moment. I had to do something if I was going to stay in this fight.

I moved my hips back quickly and was able to pop my cock from his lips but he was up and lunged at me in an instant. We struggled on our knees, hands clasped, until we both fell on our side. Randy rolled me onto my back but I forced him over onto his back -- we went back and forth like this until I had him on his back and held him there. I maneuvered myself down so that my cock, which had calmed down, was pressed against his.

"Cockfight?!" he said cheerfully, with the biggest smile he had given me since I arrived.

"You won't be too happy when this finishes you," I said as my cock began to grind against his.

Our cocks fought each other -- his monster sliding to the side of mine as we rubbed them back and forth. I leaned up a bit and rubbed my cock-head up and down its length. We both grunted and moaned and stared at each other.

"You're good at this" he blurted out between pants of breath.

"You're no pushover, either!" I said. We kept looking at each other and slowly I watched Randy's expression turn from amusement to pleasure to ... dare I say "passion?" He closed his eyes and turned his head to a side a little, biting his lower lip. I knew he was trying to hide the swelling urge to cum and I took the hint and began to grind and slide my cock against his harder.

The moment I revved up my pace he clenched his eyes and his entire body trembled. He pursed his lips tight -- desperate not to reveal his predicament. Finally, he couldn't hold it in any longer and he turned to me. He looked sincerely afraid ... almost pleading.

"Please don't make me cum yet" he said in a whisper. A deep, sexy whisper reserved usually for the bedroom and not the wrestling ring. "Please ... I don't care if I lose but not this soon. I don't ... I don't want this to be over so soon!" He gasped, his eyes went wide a bit as his cock slowly began to betray him and he turned away again, closing his eyes and trying to focus on something else.

Was it a trick? It probably was, and even if he lost I had no intention of getting dressed and leaving right away. I smiled and said "you don't have to worry about it being over just because you lose. But what kind of champ would I be if I showed you any mercy?"

I got to my knees and moved in between his legs and took his cock in my hand. I began to lovingly roll the head in my mouth and he pounded his fist into the mat.

"No! NO! Not that ... please?!" He was a beggar and I loved a man who begged for mercy. It was such an incredible turn on for me. I, of course, ignored his pleas and went to work on his cock, swallowing about three-quarters of it and bobbing my head up and down on it. He cried out and gasped and I could feel his body writhe from side to side.