A Babyfaced Stud Named Kyle

Chapter Three

The fire in the stone hearth popped and crackled.  The bunkhouse living room had warmed up quickly.  I crouched only five feet away from the Babyfaced Stud Kyle.  We both held up our muscled arms.  I could see a light sheen of sweat on the kid’s 50” pecs.  He had a light dusting of brown hair around his nipples.  I was sweating too and we hadn’t even begun our match.  Kyle was wearing only a flesh-colored Speedo.  My tight Speedo was bright red.  Kyle’s bulge was slightly tenting—enough that I could see the outline of his mushroom head at the end of a thick shaft.

Earlier, we had arrived back at the bunkhouse after our successful day of fly-fishing on the Rock Creek.  On our drive, we had agreed to a one-fall bout with no holds barred and post-match ’stakes.’  We had stopped by Kyle’s summer cabin so he could collect an overnight bag. 

Upon entering the bunkhouse, and seeing the hardwood floors covered by the black rubber mats, my muscle hunk of a guide said, “I know you said they were here but I kinda thought you were joking.”

“No kid,” I said, “I’m a man of my word.  Shower’s in there.”  I pointed towards the communal bathroom.  I went to my bedroom and opened my laptop computer.  Kyle had told me the name of the website where he posted and sold his underground wrestling videos.  I found it easily, put in my credit card info and pulled up a list of Kyle’s videos. 

On the site, he went by the name BlueBaby, which was perfect given his looks and aquamarine eyes.  He wore a blue mask to disguise his identity.  The site touted the kid as an undefeated Heel.

I watched him grapple a blonde-haired muscle hunk named BlondeBeast.  Although the blonde was bigger and more muscled than Kyle, he was slow and a lousy wrestler.  BlueBaby submitted him over and over.  After winning, Kyle forced the loser to his knees before him.  He allowed the blonde guy to peel down his blue Speedo.  The Babyfaced Stud’s thick cut cock popped out.  It looked to be about 7-7.5”.  His pubes were a dark brown compared to the rest of his lighter brown hair.  He kept the pubes trimmed but they nicely framed the root of his hefty dick.

Kyle had told me he was straight, but his cock was fully erect within seconds and the loser slobbered all over the kid’s tool.  I still wasn’t sure he was straight and “gay for pay.”  But he definitely played the role of an Alpha Heel, dominating the bigger muscle stud in the match and taking his ’stakes.”  He was also verbal too, ordering the blonde hunk to suck all of his cock.  He pulled the loser’s head forward until BlondeBeast’s nose was buried in Kyle’s brown pubes.

I would have watched the rest of the video but I had to take my shower and get ready for cocktails and dinner in the dining hall.  As I walked down the corridor towards the communal bathroom with only a white towel around my waist, Kyle with wet hair exited the bathroom similarly attired.  As he passed, he winked, “Nice pecs, old man.  Your time is coming.  Can’t wait to see you on your knees.”

“Fat chance,” I snorted.  I almost pulled off my own towel to snap it at Kyle’s ass but kept moving towards the bathroom.  As I did, I taunted, “Hope you prepped kid.  Gonna stretch that hole wide open!”  “In your dreams, Daddy,” came the reply from down the hallway.  I smiled to myself.  Before the night was out, we’d see if the kid was straight after all.  My money was on bi-curious.

At dinner, the Walkers and their close friends had been pleasant company.  Kyle exuded both his boyish charm and fly-fishing acumen, entertaining the group with stories of his experiences that season.  No one had any inkling of the post-dinner fun we had planned for the bunkhouse.  

Chef Jones came out after dessert was served to a round of applause.  He had outdone himself once again.  I introduced him to Kyle as my fishing guide that day.  Jack smiled as he shook the young man’s hand.  I explained Kyle was overnighting in the bunkhouse and Jones patted the kid’s shoulder, “Hmmm, you don’t say.”  He gave the Babyfaced Stud’s physique a once over followed by an appreciative nod.  Jack’s lingering, possessive gaze made me feel a pang of jealousy.

That was over an hour ago.  Kyle and I had said our goodnights and returned to the bunkhouse.  We allowed our meal to digest.   The lodge manager Sandy had stopped by to build another fire in the stone hearth.  As we passed the time, I watched another video of BlueBaby demolishing a ginger muscle stud.  I began to realize I had my work cut out for me.  Kyle was no slouch when it came to wrestling.  I decided that I might have to resort to a few low ball tactics to win.  They don’t call it no-holds barred for nothing.

Now, as we faced each other with the fire roaring, my eyes traveled to Kyle’s navel and treasure trail, which led to his trimmed dark brown pubes peeking out just above his waistband.  Just then, the Babyfaced Stud moved forward.  We locked up collar and elbow.  We pushed against each, grunting like angry bears.  He was definitely strong.  He twisted me to the mat and, on his knees, wrapped his right arm around my neck applying a tight Side Head Lock.  “How’s that feel, Daddy?” he smirked.

Kyle released the head lock and shoved me onto my back.  Moving to my side, he forced me onto left side facing away from him.  I felt him grab my right arm and left leg.  He yanked them backwards as he placed his bare feet in the middle of my back.  “Nnnnggghhhh!” I grunted, as he pulled on my arm and leg, bending and compressing my back in a Bow and Arrow hold.  “Good flexibility, old man!” he chortled.

I felt like my appendages were going to come out of their sockets but I was determined not to submit to the Babyfaced Heel so early in the match.  We were already sweating buckets as the fire blazed in the stone hearth.  Droplets of sweat dripped onto the rubber mats.  The bow and arrow hold had my brown fur-covered 46” pecs and six pack on display before the flickering light of the fire.  My 8" cock had stiffened and tented out the front of my red Speedo.

Kyle finally released the hold but quickly positioned his muscled legs by my head.  He wrapped his right leg around my neck and squeezed.  "Nnnggghhh!"  Maintaining his neck lock, Kyle reached for my left leg.  He yanked it up and sideways, putting me in a half Spladle and stretching my groin.  “Uuuggghhhh!!!” I groaned.  His cherubic face was now close to my package as was his free right hand.  While continuing to squeeze my neck and spreading my legs, the Alpha Heel started tapping my Speedo-covered balls.  WHAP!  “Agh!”  WHAP!  “Agh!”  WHAP!  “Agh!”  Each tap sent a shock of pain through my nerve-endings.

He paused his assault and formed a claw with his right hand.  The kid then attacked my balls with a vengeance, squeezing and twisting them.  “AAAARRRRGGGHHHH!!!” I screamed.  He just laughed and released his ball claw and half Spladle, then jumped up.  My hands covered my package protectively before I rolled onto my chest.  I struggled to get onto all fours.  “Get up!” Kyle demanded.  But he slammed his right foot into my gut.  WHACK!  “OOF!”  I pancaked back onto the rubber mats, gasping for air.

“I said ‘Get up!’” the Alpha Heel ordered once more.  Holding my abs, I slowly rose to my knees and stood up to face Kyle.  His cock had definitely hardened in his flesh colored Speedo.  He was adjusting it.  He started to raise his arms for another lock up, but to hell with that I thought.  I suddenly lunged forward, spearing the pouch of his Speedo with my head.  THUD!  “UGH!”  He crashed onto his back.

I got back up to my feet muttering “Fucking punk, you think you’re so cocky, don’t you?”  Kyle seemed a bit stunned lying on his back looking up at me.  I leaned down, grabbed his ankles, and raised his legs high.  I spread them slightly and saw alarm in his widening eyes.  Holding his legs, I dropped my right knee to his lower abs.  THUD!  “OOF!”  Then my left knee to the same place.  THUD!  “OOF!” 

He’d played dirty with me so it was time to even the scales.  This time I dropped my right knee on his Speedo-covered balls.  QUISH!  “AGH!”  And my left knee.  QUISH!  “AGH!”  His hands pounded the mats above his head, exposing his light brown armpit curls.  Then he raised them in a pleading fashion.  But I dropped my right knee on his baby makers one more time.  QUISH!  “AAAGGGHHH!!!”

I let go of his left leg and twisted his right ankle, forcing him to turn over onto his 50” pecs.  I held his ankle high applying a Single Leg Crab hold.  My free hand reached for his package, surrounded it and clawed and twisted his Speedo-covered balls the way he had just manhandled mine.  “Oh fuck, fuck!” he exclaimed, “Please, please!”  “Don’t feel so hot, does it, Bitch?” I taunted.  It was the first time I had called him a Bitch.  “Oh God, please,” he whimpered as I raised his ankle higher to better contort his back.  “You can always submit now,” I chided.  “No fucking way,” he snarled.

I let go of his package and dropped his right leg.  He groaned into the rubber mats.  I straddled his body, taking in his flesh colored Speedo and how well they fit his bubble butt.  My cock twitched at the vision.  I crouched low, thread my arms through his sweaty pits and yanked his head and torso upwards.  I draped his arms over my quads.  I inserted my fingers into the corners of his mouth, and stretched them apart, in my Camel Clutch.  Sitting lower, I cranked his back to the breaking point.

“This is how you fucking wrestle, Bitch!” I said close to his right ear.  He groaned.  I could tell he was barely hanging on.  Being undefeated in the underground scene in Bozeman, he wasn’t used to such domination.  The sweat from my brow dripped on his upper back.  His light brown curly hair was matted from his own sweat.

I finally let go of the hold and he face planted on the mats.  His gymnast bodybuilder body twitched.  I moved around to his head and slid my legs around his neck.  I leaned forward and fisted his wet hair, yanking his babyface upwards from the mat.  I pulled his nose and mouth into my crotch while locking my ankles and began to squeeze.  He grunted as he inhaled the scent of my arousal in my bright red Speedo.

“Like Daddy’s smell, Bitch!” I taunted.  Kyle’s aquamarine eyes bulged as his face began to redden.  His muscles were useless in this position.  My cock was fully erect and my moist cut head protruded above my waistband.  I squeezed my quads harder.  I knew I could put the kid out.  But I wanted to hear him submit to me.  I finally released my grip around his neck.  He gasped for air and rolled away from me.

I got up to my feet and advanced on him quickly.  I leaned down and grabbed the back of his flesh colored Speedo.  I yanked it down his bubble butt, hamstrings and calves.  He rolled onto his back.  His thick cock was as hard as mine.  Yeah, straight, I thought.  That’s a joke.  

Kyle tried to rise from the mats.  But as he did, I shoved his head through a leg loop of his gear.  Once the Speedos were hanging around his neck, I yanked him to his feet by the make-shift noose.  I turned quickly and, holding onto his Speedo, flipped his body over my right shoulder, slamming him back onto the mats.  BAM!  I dragged him to his feet by his Speedo.  The Babyfaced Bitch was staggering now.  I took no pity.  I turned the opposite way and flipped his body up and over my shoulder once more.  BAM!

His muscled upper body was twitching when I pulled him up one more time.  He whimpered "Please no....please."  This time I bent forward and hauled him up onto my back by his Speedo.  He was gagging and wheezing as he hung off my back.  His legs flailed in mid-air.  I couldn't see his hard cock but was sure it was pointing skyward.

“Submit, Babyfaced Bitch!” I demanded, “Submit to Daddy!”  “I…I” he stuttered, then screamed “GIVE!  GIVE!  GIVE!”  "Fuck yeah!" I hollered and dropped him to the mat.  KER-SPLAT!

(To be continued.)