Squeeze Play

I still can’t believe what happened. Joe wasn’t supposed to win my match with him. I didn’t really know the guy—a buddy of mine arranged the encounter. But usually that’s not a problem: when you’re wrestling a dude, who cares if he’s a stranger? After all, I’m in it for the fighting, the dominating, the winning. Making an opponent submit is the greatest thing—a lot more satisfying than just pinning him. A pin can end a match much too soon. You have to make the guy remember it.

When my buddy described Joe, I got really interested. He was several inches shorter than me and weighed about ten pounds less. He had muscles, but not nearly as developed as mine. I think I look pretty damned good after all the training I’ve done. I can handle most wrestlers without too much trouble. I looked forward to locking a smaller guy in some of my favorite moves. I wanted to twist his body into submission. I wanted to hear him shout “I give!” I also wanted to hear him beg.

The match took place in the basement of Joe’s small house, on a spacious mat. Joe fit my buddy’s physical description well. He seemed like an OK guy, but maybe too nice to be a serious challenge to me. He wanted to wrestle wearing only briefs, and I agreed. He wore a skimpy white one, and I had on my usual low-rise white.

Before we started, I flexed for him. “This is the muscle that’s gonna defeat you,” I warned. But I noticed him giving my brief more stares than my biceps.

“You’ve got some big nuts, man,” he said.

The remark made me smile a bit. I do have oversized testicles, and the brief I wore made them stand out more than usual. So what? I was proud of them. My balls were another thing I could use to intimidate my boyish opponent.

But he kept staring at them. As I moved closer, ready to make the first move, Joe surprised me by stretching out a hand to deliberately feel my sack. I stepped back, out of his reach.

“Forget it, dude. No guy touches my balls,” I informed him.

“Come on, I just wanna feel ‘em. He moved forward and repeated the try.

I pushed his hand away and stepped back again. “Forget it, man. I’m straight.”

Joe smirked. “Yeah, sure,” he said, raising his middle finger and waving it at me.

That instantly pissed me. I attacked out of anger, stupidly leaving my gut unguarded. Joe took advantage and drove his fist powerfully into it. I bent forward from the sudden pain and loss of breath. I even had to grab onto him to keep from falling all the way to the mat. Quickly he moved a hand to my crotch and took hold of my ball sack. He didn’t squeeze, but began to give my nuts the feel that he wanted.

“Fuck,” I gasped, still bent forward and unable to stop him.

“Nice ones,” said Joe as he checked out my ‘nads.

I slowly righted myself and finally managed to pull his fingers off my sack. But of course it was too late: Joe got his wish, and I felt both humiliated and angry.

Before I knew it, Joe slapped a hand onto the front of my neck and squeezed hard. I tried to wrench the hand away, but Joe only grinned. Using a leg sweep he brought my back crashing to the mat. Keeping my throat firmly throttled, he jumped on my chest. I struggled to throw him off, but that didn’t work because I could hardly breathe. Then Joe trapped my arms under his folded legs.

He had me in big trouble, defenseless against the continuing choke. The guy could now focus all his attention on the strangle hold, and he did. He toyed with my breathing, at times making it nearly impossible to catch a breath. He enjoyed watching my worried reactions.

“I guess you were wrong about no one touching your balls!” said Joe with a grin. “And I’m gonna do it again too.”

My eyes betrayed my rage and fear.

“You’re hot when you’re afraid, ” he said quietly. “Your nuts are hot, too. And tough. Man, you’ve got the sexiest nuts I’ve ever seen.”

I was not in a mood for that kind of compliment. “Fuck you!” I gasped, fearing what he might do next, and frustrated that I couldn’t free myself.

He tightened his grip, cutting off more of my breathing. “Yeah, I’m gonna get ‘em. You ready, muscleboy?”

“Fuck no!” I said in a forced whisper.

Joe greatly enjoyed watching me react to his strangle hold.

“You gonna make it easy on yourself and let me play with ‘em for a while?”

He tried to make me give in to the crazy idea by cutting off my air completely. He held me like that for several seconds before he letting me breathe again.

I coughed and gulped as much air as I could.

“How about it? Just say yes and I’ll let go of your throat, big guy.”

I could never agree to such a kinky demand. I looked at him with snarling eyes and said nothing. Joe began to close down on my windpipe once more, slowly. He smiled and spread his thighs wider, obviously loving his total control of me. Then I saw something that gave me more to worry about: Joe’s dick had stiffened inside his brief.

“You ready to say yes?”

His dick kept growing—fast. I watched it push into the stretchy brief only a few inches from my mouth. “Your face is gettin’ red, Dave!”

But I wouldn’t give in to him. A few seconds later he relaxed the hold slightly, letting me breathe somewhat easier. “You’re a brave one, and maybe also a dumb one!” He started to squeeze the windpipe again. “It’s up to you, man.”

Joe’s pole continued reaching toward me as he worked on the choke. Its head looked huge under the brief. It came closer and closer.

“Wanna see it?”

“No!” I gasped.

He pulled his brief aside, releasing the mammoth tool.

“Does it scare you? It should!”

This time he shut off my air for a longer period. I frantically tried to breathe. My mouth opened involuntarily. But at that moment, Joe leaned forward and pushed half of his cock into my open mouth. I froze in shock, feeling the huge thing pulse against my tongue. I gagged.

“Yeah!” said Joe. “Taste it!”

Then he slowly pushed more of the tool into me. “Choke on it!”

It seemed like he held it there for an eternity.

“Oh yeah!” he groaned, no doubt feeling an intense pleasure.

But I felt something scarier: Joe’s cock stiffened like it was preparing to shoot! Again, the seconds felt like minutes, hours….

Suddenly Joe surprised me by disengaging and jumping to his feet. He slipped off his brief and pitched it across the room. “Get up! Let’s finish this.”

I stood up slowly, clutching my throat with a hand. “You’re crazy, man. You’re a fuckin’ crazy, pussy queer!”

“Think so?” he said. He gave my face a slap.

That distraction caught me off guard once more. Instantly Joe slipped behind me and went for a reverse bear hug. At least, that’s what I thought it would be. But instead of gripping my waist, his hands went lower, under my brief, and locked onto my balls. I tried to pull his hands away, but couldn’t. I yelled and swore.

“Got ‘em!” he gloated.

“You little shit!” I shouted, attempting to deal with the pain. I think he had one of my balls in each hand. It was a wicked hold. My shouted demands to let go had no effect.

“This is what you get for not bein’ cooperative!”

I continued to yell in agony.

“These nuts are gonna be mine, dude. They were made for me.”

“Let go!” I cried.

“Do they hurt?” asked Joe sarcastically. “Tell me they hurt.”

I swore, then angrily yelled out the obvious.

“You can have more of this, or agree to my deal,” he bargained.

“Fuck no!” I shouted.

“O.K. It’s your funeral.” He suddenly let go, seized my brief’s waistband and pushed me to the mat, stripping me naked at the same time.

“You’ll pay for that!” I yelled, holding my balls and cursing with a vengeance.

“You’ll recover, buddy. I was right about your balls bein’ tough.”

“I’m not your buddy, man,” I replied with a sneer.

He let me get to my feet to face him again. I did so gradually, trying to ignore my nakedness and the pain in my testicles.

“Do they still hurt, baby?” said Joe. He held his own balls and gave them a mock squeeze. “Yeah, the hold that conquers muscleboys!”

Joe thrust his long cock forward and stroked it a few times. “How’s your dick doin’? It looks harder.”

“None of your business, queer,” I replied. I couldn’t believe this littler guy was giving me so much trouble. But I would take care of him, for sure. I plowed my head into his gut to soften him up, then applied a super-tight head lock. I pulled him to the mat with it and squeezed until I cut off his air entirely.

“That’s it for you!” I yelled. I choked Joe so hard that I knew he would have to admit defeat quickly. But he didn’t give. I kept the pressure on, relishing my dominance of the little queer. “OK, you bastard, I’m puttin’ you out!”

I had the guy on his back and rapidly losing energy. Again too overconfident, I didn’t expect what happened next. Joe slid a hand under my raised leg and suddenly grabbed my nuts. I shrieked in pain.

The guy laughed and pulled himself free of my headlock, but he continued squeezing my sack.

I rolled onto my back, screaming in pain. I tapped out immediately, but Joe continued. I clutched his attacking arm. “Let go! Let go!” I cried. I kept slamming the mat over and over in desperation.

“Too much for ya?” Joe grinned. “This ain’t anything, man. It’s how junior high boys wrestle when no one’s watching: they dream about grabbin’ nuts! The daring ones get their friend’s jeans open and go for naked nuts!

“Friend’s?” I gasped, still caught in Joe’s squeeze. “Those guys aren’t friends!”

“Sure they are. Didn’t you have friends that played that way?”

“No!” I yelled. But then remembered one. “O.K., one guy, in eighth grade. He grabbed me from behind in the shower. Luckily, no one else was there to see it. I never talked to him much after that.”

“Big mistake, man,” said Joe. Maybe the guy liked you a lot and waited a long time for the chance to get closer to you.”

“Shit, not that way! He was probably a fuckin’ queer like you!””

“You need a lesson in manners, dude!” said Joe. “And I’m gonna give it to you!”

He started to squeeze my balls harder, much harder. The pain increased, completely paralyzing me. Joe took greater control by locking my head and one arm in a tight scissors. I had nowhere to go.

“Please—no more!” I yelled.

“Take it, man.”

But my balls had become sheer pain. “I can’t!” I yelled in a rage.

“Take it!” Joe kept repeating.

“I give!” I cried. “No more!”

“Sorry, dude. I live for this hold!” His voice had a frightening determination.

I felt Joe work his fingers deeper into my balls. I shrieked in agony.

“Yeah, now you’re feelin’ it, muscleboy!”

“Stop! Stop!” I yelled.

“Take it,” he said again.

“No!” I screamed. “I give! I submit! You’re killin’ ‘em!” I shouted.

I grabbed his clawing hand and tried to pull his fingers out of my balls. Joe squeezed harder. The increased pain stopped me cold.

“No way, man. Do that again and I’ll give ‘em a jerk you’ll feel for a month.”

“I GIVE!” I shouted again.

The fucker kept squeezing. I gripped the mat, trying to withstand the pain.

“Yeah, the pain is so cool, ain’t it!”

“Fuck you, man!” I cried.

“Tell me you like your nuts squeezed. Tell me,” he insisted.

I had no choice, and said the words through my shrieks of pain.

“That’s what I wanna hear!” said Joe. “Now, spread your legs wide for me.”

I hesitated in fear.

“Do it!” he yelled.

I had no choice but to follow orders. I apprehensively started to open my crotch.

“Wider,” he said.

I slowly obeyed until he had his wish.

“Yeah, you’re so sexy like that, man.”

“Come on! I did what you asked!” I begged.

Joe seemed not to hear me. “You look so fuckin’ hot with your crotch wide open like this.”

“Please stop!” I begged. “You’re killin’ my nuts! They hurt like hell!”

“They’re fine, dude. Super-hard. Not many like these! I’m just makin’ ‘em work harder,” he said matter-of-factly.

What did he mean by saying, “work harder”? I wondered about that, but my nuts hurt so much that the concern didn’t last long.

“Breathe in the pain, man,” he said. “Breathe deep.”

I realized that Joe wasn’t going to stop. Plus the loud shouting had depleted my energy and voice, so I tried to slow my breathing.

“Yeah, that’s right—live with it,” said Joe.

After a while I realized that the guy was doing more than just applying a squeeze to my balls. He was also sort of wrestling them—but in slow motion. I began to feel his fingers periodically pulling and twisting and probing, sometimes working on one ball, then the other.

“Dude, these are totally hot,” he said.

“You’re hurtin’ ‘em!” I protested.

“But your cock is lovin’ it!” said Joe. It’s as stiff as they get.”

I couldn’t ignore that fact: I felt my cock begin to harden after Joe stripped me, and I could do nothing about it. Another thing that bothered me was that it started to feel good—too good.

“That’s enough!” I yelled.

“No deal, dude. Your boys are mine, and they’re gonna staymine.”

I felt Joe put some kind of new, deadly squeeze on my testicles. I whispered a deep scream.

“Yeah! In all the way!” he grunted, as if talking to his claw-like fingers.

“Please! Please!” I gasped.

But Joe continued the torturous move. “Yeah, this is the one!” he grinned.

I didn’t know how I could stand the agony. But I also felt a strange, distant pleasure. Totally distracted by it, I failed to realize that pre-cum had started to emerge from my cockhead.

“Yeah, good boy” whispered Joe, as he watched my thick sperm sowly roll down the side of my tool—although at the time I didn’t understand what was happening.

“Please stop!” I begged.

“Afraid of another guy seein’ your juice?” asked Joe.

I didn’t answer. His words shocked me. Was that his game—to make me cum?

“Nothin’ to worry about, man,” he said. “There’s a first time for everything.”

I tried to lift my upper body, but I fell back again in utter defeat.

“I’ve got ya, dude. When you’ve got a guy’s balls like this, you’ve got all of him.”

More juice bubbled onto my cockhead. “Stop,” I pleaded, again and again.

“No dice.”

My cock kept on oozing pre-cum. I tried to think of ways to escape, but the ball pain was too great to attempt any movement of my body.

“Deal with it, muscleboy. I’m gonna take you—every drop.”

“No, please!” I gasped.

“Every drop!” Joe insisted.

I had to try again to escape. I summoned as much strength as I could, but it wasn’t enough to pull him off me.

“Keep fightin’ the pleasure, man; that’ll make more of it!”

I felt truly defeated for the first time in my life—defeated by a guy littler than me, and even worse, by a gay dude. I lay on my back, helpless and ashamed, trying to breathe slowly as Joe continued his evil hold on my balls. Yet, whatever he did gradually made my cock feel better and better. I began to groan in pleasure.

He checked out my cock as well with the fingertips of his free hand, as if looking for something along its surface. Then his fingers stopped at one place.

“Yeah,” said Joe. “The first couple of shots will hurt, but after that—more pleasure than you can handle!”

The tips of just two fingers began to press into my cock. I whispered a long, low scream.

“I found your trigger, Davy-boy.”

Somehow he had discovered my shaft’s most sensitive place. Every muscle in my body tensed as the cock-pleasure dramatically increased—simply from the minor pressure he was applying. But after a couple of minutes, Joe tightened his cock-scissor hold.

“No!” I yelled, terrified that the guy was going to follow through on his plan to force the juice out of me.

A powerful and wonderful ecstasy took over my pulsing rod. Joe’s grip seemed to strengthen the pleasure but also block it at the same time. It was an edge-hold, something Joe knew how to do very well! He kept me at the peak of excitement for a long time. My breathing became faster and faster. I groaned. I perspired. I felt like I was locked in a death hold by an awesome, imaginary wrestler, who liked to unmercifully taunt his helpless victims.

I lifted my butt off the mat again and again, struggling against the incredible pleasure in my cock. My groaning became louder.

“Time to see what your balls have made for me, stud-boy!” said Joe.

“No!” I protested again. “Don’t make me cum!”

“You haven’t got a choice, man!”

Then I felt Joe wrap his whole hand around the middle of my straining rod. Even though it was only a moderately firm hold, the touch of his warm fingers suddenly ignited the entire shaft. I’d never felt such a fierce pleasure. It far surpassed the best of my own jack-off sessions. I could no longer feel the head scissors or the ball-killing squeeze—the pleasure in my cock completely overwhelmed them. I knew I had finally lost the fight with Joe. But I no longer seemed to care. I desperately wanted to shoot off. And I wanted Joe to pull my trigger.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m gonna take you big time!”

His cock-wrapped fingers began to bear hug my inflamed muscle. The pleasure of it temporarily stopped my breathing. For the first time I mentally said the word “yes” to myself—although not to Joe. I guess I still felt ashamed to acknowledge the pleasure he had unleashed in me. But as the minutes passed, that changed. The pleasure grew to a level way beyond what I could imagine.

Joe released the head scissors and ball squeeze so he could focus on his cock hold. He sat up and put one folded leg across my chest so that I had to stay on my back. He planted his free hand on my shoulder to keep me held down. At that point he had me right where he wanted me. With nothing stopping him, he really tore into my cock with his bear hug. The brutal power-squeeze made me wince. I had never prayed for an opponent’s wrestling hold on me to end, but this time I did. It only lasted a minute or so, but to me it seemed to go on for fifteen minutes.

When Joe let go, the move left me frantically gasping for air. Joe watched my reddened cock twitch excitedly. Before I could recover, he gripped the shaft once more and re-applied the hold with the same incredible force. It became another challenge to survive. I somehow did it, but that was not the last. He gave it to my rod again and again, pausing briefly after each sustained attack to grin at his work and watch me struggle with the anxiety he had unleashed. But that was not the whole story. Along with the torture of his hold also came pleasure. At first I didn’t believe it Yet soon he had me crying out in mind-blowing ecstasy. I’d never before experienced this much pleasure from sex, or from wrestling. Somehow to me, the two became connected.

I grabbed Joe’s body and clung to it like a frightened child. But fright no longer bothered me. I wanted Joe to keep wrestling my cock. I wanted the pleasure to continue. I loved it, craved it! And beyond that, I also realized that I loved Joe. How could you not love someone who makes you feel so amazingly wonderful?

Yet Joe had more torture tricks to try out on me. He made his squeezes more extreme by gradually twisting my shaft, or slowly forcing the muscle backward—moves that intensified the pleasure every time he did it.

“Yes! Yes!” I yelled at last. “Make me submit!”

I gasped in wide-eyed shock as Joe put some kind of move on my cock that brought the pleasure to a new and terrifying height. I dug my fingers into Joe’s body.

“You gonna wrestle naked with me from now on?” he demanded.

“Yes!” I screamed.

“You promise to let me at your balls whenever I want?”

“Yes! Anytime, anywhere!”

“You gonna give your cum ONLY to me and nobody else?”

“Yes! Yes! It’s only for you, all of it!”

“Every day?”

“Yes—every day—as often as you want!”

The pleasure had become more than I could bear. “Take it! Take it!” I shouted, spreading my legs as wide as possible.

Joe poured on the pressure and stared at my cockhead, watching for the first shot.

“Shit!” I shouted. I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna…..” Then my body froze.

My conqueror had been correct: for some reason I screamed in pain at the first two shots of sperm. But the remaining shots staggered me with pleasure—and there were a lot of them! I kept pumping and pumping—deliriously, obsessively—yelling as I had never yelled from an orgasm.

“Yeah! Yeah!” said Joe. “Shoot it!”

My heaving shaft just wouldn’t quit. Joe kept bear-hugging it, demanding the muscle to shoot more.

The orgasm really nailed me good. Several big loads fired over my shoulder, followed by many long squirts that hit my neck and chest. Joe pulled up on my shooting rod, increasing the pressure on the rock-like muscle, making it continue to submit to him.

“Yeah!” yelled Joe as my hot cum began to pour down the sides of the cock and onto his bear-hugging hand.

“I give! Ahhhh!” I shouted.

But Joe didn’t release his hold until he was sure I had no sperm left. I was breathing like I’d just finished running a race I hadn’t trained for. I could only lay motionless, completely drained of energy.

Joe crawled partially across me. I involuntarily held him in a loving embrace—an act that no longer seemed the least bit unusual to me. The guy responded by gently stroking my shaft. Then he moved his face lower and gave my cockhead a lick.

“Ah!” I groaned, feeling a whole new surge of pleasure.

The guy licked it again. Soon he had his mouth around the top half of my shaft. He held it there without any movement for a long time, just pressing his tongue against the stiff rod. Yet this simple move produced unexpected sensations of pleasure for me. I began to feel my cock throb. Joe took advantage by slowly initiating a very expert blow job. The pleasure quickly escalated, taking on an agonizing quality as it progressed. It was something I couldn’t handle. I tried to push Joe off of my intensely tingling shaft, but I didn’t have the strength. “No more, you bastard!” I said, half affectionately.

The guy ignored me. He seemed determined to keep up the torturous pleasure, and to keep my cock up as well.

“I can’t cum again!” I said, gasping furiously. But he didn’t stop. My cock had no defense. Even though Joe sucked slowly and lightly, he made the muscle pulse violently. He devoured more and more of the rod until he had it all. I gave his ass some hard slaps, which strangely made me feel better. Then I rested my hand on his butt—another thing I thought I’d never do with a guy. I even squeezed it while he drove my pleasure higher.

“Oh fuck!” I shouted, feeling an orgiastic pleasure building again.

Joe held me there, unwilling to let go of his prize. I squirmed, afraid I would shoot off in his mouth. “Stop—I’m gettin’ close!” I yelled.

The dude didn’t stop. My mind started spinning. Did he really intend to swallow my juice this time? Would he like it? Would I survive a second orgasm like the first? Suddenly my questions ended as the awesome moment of release arrived. I gasped as the juice shot up through me.

Joe grunted loudly, signaling the first loads that fired into his mouth—each one pure pleasure, no pain this time. I watched him swallow everything I gave him. Seeing that prompted me to keep shooting. It was the sexiest, most incredible moment of my life. Joe’s ecstatic groans seemed to say, “Give me more!”

My body tingled with every massive shot. Joe grabbed my sides to keep himself steady as I fired into him. I have no idea how long I shot off, but I felt like I had smashed my record of only moments ago!

By the time he had finished me, I couldn’t move from the exhaustion of the orgasm. Yet Joe kept my cock in his warm, sexy mouth, working on it now and then with some gently tongue-rasslin’ that really felt great. His tongue made sure my cock stayed totally stiff, minute-after-minute. I lay there, half asleep, groaning from this dreamy, on-going pleasure. But after a while, I realized what was happening: the guy was still taking my cum—although gradually, one spurt at a time!

“You little fucker!” I gasped, smiling at Joe’s ability to keep some sperm coming, even though at irregular intervals. It seemed like I was feeding a starving guy! “This is awesome!” I whispered to him.

Joe paused briefly, just to speak. “You taste terrific, buddy. I gotta have it!”

When his mouth re-gripped my shaft, it immediately gave him another short drink. After a while, a more serious pleasure started to build again in my rod. I could feel myself slowly giving in to it.

“Oh god!” I whispered as my heavy balls started to tighten.

Joe felt them and grunted in anticipation. He took my hands and pinned them to the mat to keep me in place. My groans increased in volume as a ferocious pleasure took hold of me again.

“Fuck! Fuck!” I cried, feeling my shaft reach the point of no return. A moment later, Joe began swallowing more jets of cum. I didn’t know how I could shoot off three times in succession, but I did. The third one was the absolute wildest. It totally finished me.

“I give! I give, you bastard!” I said, out of breath and smiling broadly.

Joe released my cock and licked his lips. “I couldn’t resist, man. Your stuff is a feast, stud!”

For the first time in my life, I actually felt like a stud. Some guys had called me that in the past, but I never thought much about it. But now I felt unashamed to flex for Joe and show off a little. He loved it.

The guy fingered my balls for a long time after my orgasm. He finally said, “Man, I’m in love with your guys. They make a great drink!”

I grinned, liking how they felt when he occasionally poked one of them.

“I told you they’re tough,” he said. “I sure made ‘em bulge with it, didn’t I.”

“Oh shit yeah,” I gasped.

Joe got on his knees beside me, with his cock standing upright against his gut. Without thinking, I put my fingers on it. The muscle radiated a tremendous amount of heat. Touching his cock surprised me, because the only cock I’d ever felt belongs to me! Another surprise: the moment I touched his rod, Joe uttered an instant groan of pleasure. That made me want to continue the touching. I fingered the muscle all over. It began to twitch. Joe’s groaned in obvious pleasure.

“You don’t know how good that feels, man,” he said quietly. “The best ever.”

This confused me a little, since Joe must have had lots of gay guys handle his meat, and they no doubt surpassed me in tool-handling technique! Anyway, I gradually got more daring in what I did with my fingers. I tried squeezing the cock in several places to see how Joe would react. First, he spread his legs far part. Then he tilted his head back.

“Keep doing that—it’s awesome! Awesome!” he said.

I became both fascinated and turned on by the muscle’s response to my exploring. In fact, I couldn’t take my eyes—or my fingers—off of it.

“You’re great, man!” remarked Joe. “I love how you do it.”

That comment seemed to eliminate my confusion: maybe other guys didn’t take his cock, or his pleasure, as seriously as I did. To me, the experience became more thrilling with each passing minute. Soon I saw pre-cum begin to ooze onto the head.

“Claw it,” he said. “Hard.”

I did. I even made him cry out in pain—or pleasure, maybe both. Joe put a hand on my claw hold to let me know it was OK. The dude sure could take a lot. I pulled his hand away and substituted my own. Using both hands, I squeezed until I made him yell out a loud submission.

Joe grinned. “Good one!”

I went after the rod again, to see how much the guy could stand. His cock got so excited that I thought it might explode. I gave it a rest and turned my attention to his balls. I began by checking them out, one-at-a-time, with light feels. Much to my surprise, my touching made them move and flex. Watching them react fascinated me and also turned me on. The testicles became harder and gradually moved higher as I played with them. They finally went as high as they could go, hugging the bottom of Joe’s shaft.

My short squeezes grew into longer ones. Joe grunted loudly when I put a downward pressure on his nuts, forcing them away from their preferred high point alongside the cock-base. I did that a lot. Finally I tried tighter holds. Their hardness proved more challenging to squeeze than I had expected. But my claw squeezes did get results: Joe’s pleasure grunts became very sexy-sounding, and his cock looked stiffer and redder than before.

I have to admit something. I got very aroused toying with Joe’s body in this way. It reminded me of something like bondage, where one guy has free reign over someone else. The dominated person has to take it, but also relishes—even asks for—the experience. I got up on my knees like Joe, faced him and re-gripped his nuts—one in each hand.

“Yeah,” he whispered, definitely ready for whatever would happen next.

I started to squeeze, harder than before—both nuts together, then alternating. I watched Joe’s cock react in pleasure from everything I did. My squeezing became more serious without me realizing it. Yet it all translated as pleasure to Joe. He put his arms on my shoulders, then interlocked his fingers behind my neck. He wanted more.

I responded with a truly nasty double-ball squeeze. Joe gasped. His head fell forward against mine. We both looked down at my killer hold and at each other’s upright cocks. I kept the squeeze going, wondering how long Joe could take it. He showed no sign of giving up, so I started to slowly twist the tight sack to the right.

Joe grunted and pressed his forehead harder against mine. I reached an extreme point in the twist and held it there. The guy moved his lips onto mine and kissed me. The kiss became more passionate the longer I maintained the hold. Then Joe’s muffled groans became very loud: he was heading for a submission, but not the kind I expected. His interlocked hands forced our faces together with greater power. Then I felt a hot liquid fire onto my gut: Joe’s cock had exploded without me touching it!

The hold sure did drain the guy. Afterward I put a hand on his wet, still twitching cock. Its slippery surface invited me to run my fingers slowly along the tall, hard muscle. Joe jumped as extreme pleasure jabbed into him. But I couldn’t bring myself to stop. Jacking the guy felt unexpectedly satisfying to me. Somehow, his pleasure became my own pleasure. Joe’s body quickly began to tighten, even though I worked on his shaft with a controlled slowness. His nuts had risen to their highest, straining point; I felt them whenever my hand traveled to the bottom of his cock.

“That’s enough, man!” he gasped.

“No deal,” I replied. “I owe you two more.”

(end)