Fireballs

Dave jumped into his jeep and took off down the dusty road to pick up Skip. He marveled at the brilliant evening colors of the broad, Western sky. The night would be clear, cool and invigorating. That’s how Dave liked it. He took a deep breath and smiled. Soon Skip joined him in the jeep and they were off.

“Where we goin’ tonight?” asked Skip.

“Let’s head up the mountain,” suggested Dave.

“Sounds good.”

The road was rough, but the two guys got a kick out of being bumped out of their seats in all directions. It was like bronc riding.

“Looks like you got some new Levi’s,” said Skip.

“Yup, today.” Dave rubbed a hand back and forth along his right thigh. “Got ‘em kinda snug. They feel good that way.”

Besides highlighting his great physique, the crotch-gripping jeans made Dave’s dick harden in his jockstrap. Or maybe it was from watching Skip bounce around in those faded, nearly skin tight 501’s he was wearing. The denim was so old and worn that it appeared to be as thin as a summer shirt. Dave could even see the outline of a brief underneath. He visualized Skip sitting there wearing just a jock, then he pictured him naked, as he had done many times before.

An agile teen, Skip had the body and poise of a guy Dave’s age—twenty-four. He wasn’t as tall as Dave, but he had a good, solid build. His hair was the color of desert sand and he had fun-loving, light gray eyes. In short, Skip was quite a knockout, very much a stud. Although they’d been friends for only a year, Skip had become like a brother to Dave. Dave valued the friendship a lot and often feared what would happen if Skip found out he was gay. So Dave kept quiet on the subject until he could figure a way to approach it with Skip.

In the meantime Dave found an occasional release by driving to the city and going to the bar. He was the type of guy that had no trouble making contacts. When the attractive, six-and-a-half-foot, dark-haired hunk walked through the door in his cowboy boots and bun-hugging jeans, the guys practically trampled each other to stake a claim on him. But even though he’d had many encounters with extremely handsome young dudes, they never proved to be completely satisfying experiences. They lacked the thing that turned Dave on the most: wrestling. To him, pretty guys weren’t really sexy unless they loved to wrestle. That’s what set Skip apart from the others—Skip was a wrestler at heart.

The kid didn’t wrestle on a team but followed the pro matches very closely. He particularly admired the young, bodybuilder types. Once, by chance, Dave saw him in action from a distance and just about went crazy with desire. Skip and a muscular, red-haired tackle on the football team were walking home after school, laughing and jostling. Suddenly the tackle pushed Skip to the ground, then pressed his gym shoe into Skip’s back to hold him down. But Skip managed to turn over and grab the guy’s foot. Using a painful ankle twist, he quickly brought the tackle’s stomach down into the dirt.

Skip pinned the lower leg back against the thigh and dropped onto it with both knees. The hunk yelled in pain. Immediately after the leg-smash, Skip hooked his own legs under the bent, immobilized one and sat down, trapping it tightly in his crotch. He scissored the leg forcefully with his thighs. It was clear that he was going for a submission, not merely a fast retaliation.

Skip grabbed the guy’s other leg and pulled it up and back, into a kind of half-crab position. Then he pushed it slowly to the side, opening the crotch with a wrenching leg split. The agonized hunk was tied up in a clever, three-hold maneuver that totally electrified Dave. Skip put more and more pressure on the leg split, finally leaving the guy no choice: he had to give it up. Skip slapped his butt, grinned, got up and it was over.

But it wasn’t over for Dave. In the weeks that followed, he re-lived the scene in his mind countless times. He embellished it, lengthened it, fantasized the guys wrestling in jockstraps, and wrestling naked. He saw the red-haired hunk punish Skip with a long series of torture holds—a crucifix, paralyzing nerve grips, an upside down bear hug, a double stomach claw . Through all of it, Dave watched Skip’s rod harden and stretch out—seven inches, eight, nine.

He saw the hunk lock Skip in a devastating body scissors. Keeping him imprisoned in the hold, the hunk pried Skip’s legs apart and hungrily looked over his handsome crotch. Dave stared as a powerful hand gripped Skip’s basket. It pulled the nuts forward and checked them out. Then the fingers began a slow, growing squeeze. The hunk took plenty of time to enjoy the feel of the kid’s nuts, to enjoy the thrill of crushing them.

Another hand clamped onto Skip’s rod. The hunk jerked it roughly. He did it again and again. Dave could almost feel the kid’s climax build inside him. His fantasy zoomed in close to catch every detail. Skip’s basket was rock hard. His cock was ready to explode. Dave gazed at the hunk’s hands. He realized that they weren’t the hunk’s at all: they were his own! He dug into the hot, young studflesh. Creamy sex burst from the cock, squirting in long jets, uncontrollable, unstoppable.

Dave’s fantasies about Skip became increasingly frequent. Almost every night he’d strip down to his jockstrap and attack his rod as if Skip were wrestling it, trying to get a submission. Sometimes to heighten the intensity of his erotic solo match he’d soak the pouch with oil, or do it in the shower. Despite his attraction to jockstraps (he always had one on, and he always jumped at the chance to see them on other guys), Dave had fun stripping his off during the match and grappling with his big naked cock and balls. He really gave his cock the business: he was tougher on it than most guys would be. He’d twist and grind the revved up muscle to daring limits, or yank it, or squeeze until the rod shot like crazy. Dave was also a ball expert and could put the juice into overdrive just as fast by throttling his bulging nuts. He wanted to do the same to Skip—to get hold of Skip and wrestle him, to whip his stud cream into a frenzy. That would be the ultimate experience for Dave.

The idea tantalized him as the jeep gradually climbed the darkening mountain. The deep blue-velvet sky became a striking background for the brilliant display of stars which soon dazzled the eye.

“I heard there’s suppose to be a big meteor shower for the next couple of nights,” said Skip. “Maybe we’ll see some of the fireworks.”

Dave turned onto a two-track that cut across a relatively flat area near the mountaintop. He parked the jeep on the roadside and the guys sat there talking and laughing for a long time. They watched the moon rise, but saw no meteor shower.

“What a bummer. Where’s the meteors?” complained Dave. “We came up here to see ‘em and they better start flyin’!” he announced humorously. “Bring ‘em on, baby! Let’s see ‘em shoot all over the place!” he yelled to the sky.

“Not so loud,” said Skip. “They’ll hear you five miles away!”

This only encouraged Dave to yell louder. He gripped the steering wheel, pulled himself off the seat and bellowed his demand again.

“Quiet, man!” cautioned Skip.

But Dave was in a cocky mood—and also a horny one, with his butt raised and legs spread. He gave Skip the finger while he yelled to the heavens once more. Skip seized the finger playfully and pulled it backwards. Dave shouted instantly from the sharp pain. He froze in his position above the seat. Skip grinned. He got a thrill out of controlling the big guy and watching him suffer.

“Let go or I’ll punch ya!” threatened Dave.

Skip held on, even daring to force the finger back a little more. Dave simul- taneously screamed and lunged at Skip. He sent a fist into the kid’s gut with his left hand. It had only a slight effect: Skip was a tough dude. Dave then attacked the kid’s thigh with several good, rapid-fire blows. But still he didn’t weaken. Dave couldn’t resist any longer—he shoved the hand between Skip’s legs and grabbed his crotch.

The old denim was very soft and cupped his basket snugly, like the pouch of a jock- strap. It was easy for Dave to wrap his fingers around it. He squeezed into the nuts through the thin cloth. The kid let out a shout but didn’t release the finger. Dave uncorked a much harder squeeze. That got him. Skip released the finger, but Dave was reluctant to let go of the kid. He clutched Skip’s dick.

“Hey, look what I found!” teased Dave, happy to find the muscle semi- hard. Skip giggled as Dave explored it from top to bottom. He could feel the rod lengthening. When Dave didn’t free the cock, Skip started to get nervous about it. “Let go, man!”

The cowboy ignored the request. Skip tried to push the hand back, but it was locked onto its target. Dave unbuttoned the fly and got his hand around the brief-covered tool. He squeezed and rubbed it. This was definitely a dream-come-true. The cock grew longer and harder, stretching the taut, smooth fabric way out. Skip wanted to open the door to escape, but Dave had his arm trapped against the window crank.

“Settle down, buddy,” said Dave. “We’re just havin’ a little fun!”

Skip continued to struggle against Dave, fearing that the guy would make him shoot off—something he was uneasy about. He could feel the pleasure building rapidly in his cock as Dave worked on it.

“Not here, man! Someone might see us!” said Skip.

Dave took this to mean that Skip had given up and wanted to go to a place where they could take their time messing around.

“O.K.,” said Dave. “How about behind those rocks over there?”

“Yeah,” answered Skip, still trying for a way out. As soon as Dave let go of him, the kid bounded out of the jeep and started running away. “Stay away from me, you queer!” he shouted. Dave raced after him in the bright moonlight. A good runner, the cowboy soon overtook the shorter-legged teen. He tackled him, then crawled on his back.

“Get off me, queer!” shouted Skip, unable to roll Dave off.

Dave reached under him and shoved his hand inside the Levi’s again. This time he got the rod with both hands. He slipped his thumbs under the edge of the brief and locked them behind the big tool. Skip’s time had come. Dave gave the rod a workout the teen wouldn’t soon forget.

“No!” yelled Skip.

But Dave wasn’t about to stop now. He was having the time of his life. He had the sexy teen right where he had always wanted him—with his arms around his waist, manhandling the little stud’s rock-hard cock. God it was great!

The cock throbbed powerfully as he squeezed into it. The kid was sudden­ly overcome with pleasure. He felt his juice surge up through the long, hot sex-muscle. He grunted loudly as the cock exploded in his brief. Cum shot for a long time, thoroughly drenching the cloth.

“Why did you do that?” said Skip angrily as Dave crawled off him.

“Because you’re a good friend.”

“I’m not THAT kind of friend,” yelled Skip, stripping off the brief and jeans. He bunched up the soaked brief and pitched it violently into the darkness. Then he quickly pulled on his jeans again. “Keep your fuckin’ hands off me!”

Dave walked up close and looked him in the eye. “I didn’t think you were such a big chickenshit. Let me know when you grow up and get some guts!”

“I’ll give you guts!” said Skip sarcastically. He thrust a karate kick into Dave’s gut. The cowboy doubled over. Skip wedged Dave’s neck between his thighs and dropped to his knees, giving the cowboy a short ride to the ground. Skip pressed his muscular thighs together in a neck-wrenching, kneeling scissors. Then he put a nasty hammerlock on Dave’s right arm and tortured it until Dave cried out.

Somehow Dave withstood the pain. Skip finally switched holds, but went to another punishing maneuver. He straddled Dave’s upper back, reached down and yanked his head up. Skip rested his butt on Dave’s back while the cowboy strained under the agonizing impact of the camel clutch.

“Had enough, chickenshit?”

“Yes! Yes!” shouted Dave.

“Well, I haven’t!” said Skip. He turned around, picked up Dave’s legs and pulled them back into a tight Boston crab. He was going to make the cowboy suffer for a while. The teen planted his feet far apart and sank into a low, squatting position over his victim. He applied terrific pressure to Dave’s back, delighting in every minute of it. Dave knew he had no escape. The vicious hold had him screaming in no time.

“That’s enough!” yelled Dave as Skip leaned into his arched body even more. He prayed the teen would release him. Unfortunately for Dave, Skip was in no hurry. Applying the crab made him horny as hell. His cock wanted to poke right through his Levi’s and stand up tall between his outstretched legs. He looked down at Dave’s athletic thighs. He found himself thinking about the cowboy’s crotch and wondering if it was as hard as his.

A wild notion crossed his mind: what would it be like putting a cock crab on a guy? The wrestler would bend the guy backward as in the Boston, but would hold him in place by his rod. The thought sent a shiver through his body. To get the idea out of his mind, Skip changed holds again. He stood up and pulled the cowboy’s legs up with him. Then he kneeled on one leg and brought Dave’s back down across the other one. He kept the cowboy draped over the leg by pressing down on his jaw with one hand and holding onto a thigh with the other. Not yet recovered from the crab, Dave was caught in another spine-killer.

To Skip, Dave’s anguished moans had begun to sound sexy. But the cowboy’s bulging crotch and fly were much more distracting. Seeing that part of Dave’s hunky body lit up in the moonlight at close range, Skip felt the shiver again. He stared at the bulges until he could no longer fight back the urge to go after them.

He gripped Dave’s crotch. His fingers clamped into the tight denim that highlighted and surrounded the protruding balls. The kid began to press and grind them against each other in his own special brand of nut torture. But to Dave, this kind of thing was erotically exciting, not painful. He spread his thighs wide, allowing Skip plenty of room to do anything he wanted with the balls.

Skip got the message. “This is what I like, tough guy. How long can you take it?”

When Dave didn’t submit, the kid turned his attention to Dave’s long cock bulge. He opened Dave's jeans, pulled them down to the knees and gazed at Dave’s jockstrap. The pouch was packed with a giant. Almost unconsciously Skip pulled the cloth to one side, unbridling the cowboy’s rod and basket. The cock was so thick it took his breath away. He thought of the times he’d seen guys with hard rods in the locker room at school, and how they would sometimes let their stiff cocks be felt or squeezed. A few guys seemed to deliberately encourage that. He’d never taken part in that kind of horsing around, but now, looking down at Dave’s hard shaft, he realized how much he had wanted to. It was time to change things. He took the plunge.

The teen curled his fingers around the hot, twitching muscle. He dug into the sucker as if he were making up for lost time, which of course, happened to be true. He had a blast pulling, twisting, squeezing—doing all the things that males like to do with their rods.

To Skip, real wrestling meant finishing off a guy by making him submit—slowly. He liked any hold that would gradually drain the strength out of an opponent and leave him helpless. The backbreaker that he had Dave in was accomplishing just that: the tall hunk was becoming weaker by the minute. Skip decided to see if he could use the cowboy’s rod to complete the job.

He put a slow, reverse bend on the massive pillar. The cock resisted as he gradually muscled it down between Dave’s thighs. A few more inches and the kid would have him in one of the ultimate male submission holds. The cowboy froze in pleasure and pain as Skip aimed the throbbing cock directly at the ground. The backbreaker/cockbreaker combo went beyond Dave’s limit of en­durance. His arms collapsed at his sides.

The teen knew he had his victory, but he wasn’t through yet. He wanted to milk every bit of energy and man-cream out of the big guy. He squeezed and yanked on the rod until Dave’s juice boiled inside his balls.

“Ah, fuck—ya got me!” yelled Dave. His body froze in ecstasy. Cum suddenly ex-ploded from the cockhead. It burned and tickled the inside of his rod as it shot up. Jets of heavy cream blasted the hard ground. Skip couldn’t see the action, but he felt the sizzling muscle heave in his hand.

When it was over, Skip looked down at the beaten hunk. His head was spinning. He wondered if it all had been a dream. Had he raped this guy? What should he do next?

“Hey, I’m really sorry, man,” began Skip softly. “Are you O.K?”

“Yeah, sure. Gotta rest for a minute, though. Who taught you to do that?”

“No one . . . I don’t know what got into me . . . I shouldn’t have.

“Forget it,” said Dave. “I’ve never been so turned on. Anything that makes me feel THAT good is O.K! There’s no problem, right?”

“Guess not.”

“Rasslin’ dirty sure is fun!” said Dave. “And you’re really good at it—better than me, and I thought I was the local champ!” He kicked off his sneakers and jeans. “Wanna try out a few more holds before we go back?”

Skip was silent.

“Come on, nobody’s gonna know. We’re still buddies, aren’t we?”

“Yeah.”

“Good deal. I dare ya to get naked!” said Dave, taking off his shirt.

As Skip peeled the clothes from his smooth, slender body, he began to feel truly happy and free, maybe for the first time. “Too bad we can’t see very much.”

“Not this time,” answered Dave, moving close to Skip. “But we can do lots of feelin’!” His eyes scanned the dim image of Skip’s naked body in the moonlight. He reached between the kid’s legs and cupped the firm basket in his palm. Skip grinned as Dave fingered and tickled the balls playfully. The teen spread his legs a little more. He loved the feel of Dave’s hand around his nuts.

Skip’s stiff tool was cocked and ready again. He felt Dave’s fingers edge their way up the long shaft. The sensitive tip quivered at the cowboy’s touch. The shaft seemed to be doubling in size, thoroughly seduced by Dave’s feather-light but incredibly skillful stroking. The tingling cockhead made Skip grunt in pleasure. He looked down at his sex pole and was surprised to see that Dave’s fingers weren’t producing these fantastic sensations: the cowboy’s tongue and lips were doing it all. The teen watched Dave suck him into a world of overpowering sensuality.

Dave pulled him down onto his back while continuing to tongue the elec­trified tool. To Skip it felt as though the cowboy was sucking on the juice itself, teasing it, daring it to shoot up. Suddenly Dave grabbed the kid’s nuts. The sensation drove Skip into a frenzy. His juice roared up through the shaft. It burst out, shaking his whole body with violent spasms of pleasure.

The guys collapsed on the ground, laughing and poking and jostling. Skip chased Dave into a field and tackled him. “Now I’m show YOU a few things!” laughed Skip.

The meteor shower did finally take place above them. But Dave and Skip didn’t notice it. Their scopes were strictly set on each other—two very bright stars, shooting across the cool night air.

(end)