The following is fiction. It contains themes that some might find disturbing. Please check the tags and read at your own discretion. All characters are over the age of 18.
Reader's Note: Hey guys, sorry for the long delay between chapters. The one-two-punch of holidays plus work got in the way of my writing. I hope you guys enjoy this late Christmas gift!
Action & Reaction
For the week following Guido's match with Leather Daddy he was, to quote Tomcat, 'acting like a whiny bitch.' Grouchy, irritable, pouty in a cute way where he'd punch you if you pointed it out. Apparently Leather Daddy's aftercare wasn't good enough to wipe away the disappointment of being stuck in the undercard with losers like me. Tomcat was also disappointed of course but he channeled that disappointment through other avenues, mainly my mouth and my dick. I wouldn't have minded Tomcat's, er, particular method of healing if I didn't get a notification the day after our match that next week I was going up against Rodeo.
Yeah.
Which is why I said, "Stop that," to Tomcat as I was rising up from my squat. He'd volunteered to 'spot' me 'in his own style', which meant every time I rose up he had a hand perfectly placed to rub over my crotch.
"What?" Tommy said innocently, "I'm just encouraging you is all."
"More like sabotaging. If I blow my load I'm literally fucked." I said as I went down again.
"Eh, you'll get it back in three days." Tommy said. "Besides, not like you're winning this one anyways."
"Thanks- ungh- for the vote of confidence." I said, rising back up and through another grope. He wasn't entirely wrong about the encouragement.
"You're not gonna beat Rod in your first match. No one's ever jumped ranks on their first try."
"Yeah well- hngh- maybe I'm not like the rest of these fuckers." I said, finishing another squat.
"Oh yeah, you're definitely a special case." Tommy said and I didn't need to see his face to see the sardonic grin that was spread across it.
"You'll see..." I muttered.
It was still early in the morning so the gym in Gen-Pop was still mostly empty. Guido was doing lat presses in his own world, earbuds in and a scowl on his face. C-Suite & Octagon were working on their cardio at the treadmills, probably because if they went out running Oc would get propositioned by anyone they passed to, ahem, 'teach him how to fuck.' See his limp dick had lost him and C-Suite the match against Harley & Haulie. Across the room Gram & Icon were working on their curls and/or admiring themselves in the mirror. Basically aside from me it was a collection of losers in the room.
At least until Gym & Frosh strutted in together. Gym had his arm slung over Frosh's shoulder I couldn't help but notice. And apparently he couldn't help but notice me noticing him as he locked eyes with me for a split second. His hand drifted down Frosh's body to wrap around his waist instead.
"Focus." Tommy warned me. "Don't let it get to ya." And reader believe me I tried. It didn't help that Gym & Frosh chose a bench directly in my line of sight. It also didn't help the way Gym rubbed Frosh's shoulders before Frosh lay down on the bench. And it really, really didn't help how Gym started shouting his encouragement to Frosh as he started doing reps.
"That's it! That's my man!" He shouted loud enough for the whole room to hear as his boyfriend benched all of 100 pounds. I did my best to ignore them until I saw Gym glance my way. That fucker.
After I finished my squat I racked the bar. "The fuck did I just tell you?" Tommy said.
"Add a plate." I said. Tommy sighed.
"This'll end in tears."
"Just do it." I said. I pulled off my pump cover and took a second to check my pecs and abs. When I looked back up I saw Gym was staring at me. Yeah, that's right, look at a real man, I thought. I bounced a pec which made him look up at me. I smirked.
Now my plan might've worked to get Gym's attention but it did kinda suck for me, I hated the feeling of the bar against my skin. Also adding weight at the end of my workout might not have been the greatest idea. Still, I wasn't gonna give up, I'm not a bitch. I did very briefly think about reconsidering once I hit the bottom of my squat. My legs shook a bit and a bead of sweat dripped down my brow but I got up again and went for another dip, then another. Probably should have stopped there if I'm being honest.
"Hey, don't you give up on me." Tommy said, suddenly serious as I struggled to rise. Everything from my ass down was like it was on fire and being stabbed with needles. "Keep going! Keep going! That's my boy that's it! Go! Go! Go!" I pushed through the pain and the ever growing exhaustion even as my knees started quaking like a city in California. There was no way in hell I was giving up now, not with Gym watching me. There were two options, either I finish the squat or I fucking die. Lucky for you and unlucky for me I didn't die.
As soon as the bar was racked Tommy ducked underneath and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. "That's it!" He shouted proudly. "That's my big man!" Gym still had his eyes on me even as Frosh struggled with his weight. Impulse took over me and I grabbed the back of Tommy's head and pulled him forcefully in for a kiss. For a moment I just enjoyed shoving my tongue down Tommy's throat, and he certainly wasn't complaining, I did take a chance to open my eyes and just check how Gym was taking it all. Not well judging by the frozen grimace on his face.
Now you might be asking, should I ragebait my childhood friend/crush by pretending to be in a loving relationship with a serial rapist/sexpest/watersports enthusiast? No, probably not. Should I be distracting the guy who is spotting for a weightlifter who is currently going for a PR? Also no. Did I enjoy every single second of Gym's radiating jealousy as I plumbed the depths of Tommy's throat with my tongue? Yes. Yes I did.
I finally let Tommy get a breath in once Gym realized his beloved boytoy was about to decapitate himself with 200 pounds of iron. Shit, maybe next time. Honestly if I'd known then what I know now I might've just gone over and killed the little bitch myself. Ah well, hindsight.
Gym didn't take the provocation lying down though, so to speak. He pulled Frosh off the bench and checked him over, what, like the dumbbell stabbed him or something? Yeah, he really needed to check over Frosh's pathetic little pecs to make sure nothing was torn, yeah, real believable. And he certainly made a show of his concern for his boyfriend, leaning in and whispering little encouragements to him. Made me want to fucking puke. And then, and then, dear reader, he went for the kill. He pulled Frosh in for a hug, saying loud enough for me to hear how Frosh'd "do better next time," and leaned in for a long, lingering kiss while holding him in a tender embrace.
Fucking disgusting what people do these days.
Worse still I had no response.
"Don't give up." Tommy whispered in my ear. "You just gotta change tactics." He started cupping my pecs, sliding his hands over my biceps, over my lats, and going on and on about all the progress I'd been making. And I had, to be fair, been making a lot of progress. Well, really making up for lost progress from my little depression spiral a couple weeks back. Details. Anyways he was fondling me up and down for all and sundry to see, all being Gym and sundry being Frosh of course.
"Get your measurements up and we can work on getting your 2" to a 7." He said as he rubbed his hand over my crotch. Whatever spell he was working on Gym was also working on me, to the point I almost forgot the whole point of this song and dance. My blood was pumping and my mouth going a bit dry and it all got even harder when I saw the way Gym was glaring at me over Frosh's shoulder. Always want what you can't have, huh fucker...
I slapped a hand on Tommy's ass and gripped it. "Why don't we take this somewhere private." I said and started guiding him to the showers. God help whichever attendant has to clean that sex den. We didn't end up making it there as Gym all but sprinted between the benches and ended up in our path. "Whoa," he said, "sorry, didn't see you there."
I said the first thing that came into my head. "Yeah, didn't see you either." God I am a moron.
"Well, uh..." Gym said, just standing there like two and a half hundred pounds of dumb muscle.
"Good seeing ya." I said, giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder.
"Surprised to see you two hanging out." Frosh said, having come up next to Gym without anyone noticing.
"We grew up together what's so fucking surprising about us talking?" I snapped at him.
"I meant you and Tomcat." Frosh said with a stupid, evil fucking grin. "I mean after the way you absolutely obliterated him, who'd want to hang out with you after that?"
The rage that burned me up from the inside stopped me from saying anything but luckily Tommy was there to step in.
"Fuck you're not wrong. He really tore me up. Magic fuckin' prick on this one." He said, copping a feel of my still hard dick through my shorts. "Honestly couldn't get enough. That's why I had to take him back to my place and... well, that would be telling." He winked at me, though really he was winking at Gym who was at this point beet red all over.
"You're a fucking freak, even for a bottom." Frosh said looking genuinely disgusted.
Tomcat just laughed and tightened his arm around my shoulder. "Yeah..." he said wistfully, "it's more fun once you get over yourself, you should try it some time. Door's always open." Basically neither of them took that well. Gym was absolutely furious now and only being held back by Frosh's tight grip on his hand.
"The fuck did you say?" Gym asked.
Just cool it down, I tried to silently tell Tommy but that was stupid. Cool wasn't Tommy's style at all.
"You can join in too bruv. Might be nice to get fucked by a real man for once."
God dammit Tommy.
Gym, of course, was all up in Tommy's face while I did what I could to keep them separated. Gym was shouting incoherently while Tommy just would not stop laughing. Frosh, as was to be expected, was uselessly standing on the sidelines. We'd made a big enough ruckus that Guido had broken out of his trance and rushed over, helping me keep Gym off of Tommy.
"Get your hands off me!" Gym shouted at Guido. "Fucking cum rag."
"Why don't you go cool off kiddo." Guido said.
"What, you think I'm scared of you?" Gym laughed. "We all saw you get your ass drilled like a bitch."
Oh sweet Jesus.
"You wanna try that again?" Guido asked.
"I said I'm not scared of some oily haired, bottom bitch, no-definition piece of shit like you. So why don't you run back to your daddy. He’ll go easier on you than I would."
Guido set his jaw and looked ready to throw down then and there. He did cast a glance at me, thankfully, before turning back to Gym. "You're not worth it. If you're so big on definition why don't you take your little slut back to the bench? Might even grow some chest hair."
We were almost out of there when Gym shouted out, "Pussy!"
God. Dammit. Gym.
Guido immediately turned on his heel and was right up in Gym's face.
"Hey! Hey hey hey hey hey." I said, trying to get between them.
"Gym, maybe-" Frosh started but Guido cut him off.
"Shut the fuck up!"
"Don't you tell him to shut up! You shut up!"
"Why don't you fucking make me, bitch."
Gym lunged at Guido and got a punch in before I was able to shove him away. Guido was, as you'd expect, pissed and shouting his head off while Tommy did his best to hold him back. Not a winning proposition, frankly. I wasn't exactly well placed to hold back Gym either. It was funny, it was like I was back in college and Gym had gotten into another fight with some big guy at the bar.
Frosh was, of course, shrinking away in the back. I shouted at him, "Control your man!" That finally snapped him out of whatever state he was in.
"He's not worth it." Frosh said, trying to pull Gym back. "Come on baby he's not worth it."
It made me sick to my stomach that it worked but also, it worked. Well, almost worked. Before Tommy and I were able to drag Guido out of the gym he shouted off, "We'll settle this in the ring! I'm gonna destroy your fucking ass! You're gonna be moaning like whore!"
"Bring it! Fucking bring it bitch!" Gym shouted back.
Fuck.
Guido kept raging and ranting as Tommy and I pulled him away. His room was up several flights of stairs or an awkward elevator ride that I didn't want to deal with so instead I guided him and Tommy to my room which was just across the building. We tossed Guido on to sit on my bed while Tommy and I caught our breath. My mind was racing with a million different disasters, all of them orbiting around the ring. Would this match actually happen? What happens if Guido wins? What happens if Gym wins? How can I stop this?
Evidently Tommy wasn't so concerned with that because the first thing he said was, "Jesus, you're still living in your first digs?"
"What? Yeah, I guess. What's that got to do with anything?"
"Nothing, just..." He cast a judgy eye around the room. "How much have you won? You could be well clear of this room if you wanted."
"I don't want to, I'm saving up to get the fuck out of here." I shook my head, this was a distraction. "Guido, man, you weren't serious about the match were you? Just fighting words, right?"
"Nah man I'm gonna wreck that bitch." Guido said, still clearly pissed off. "You think I'm just gonna lay back and let him disrespect me? Fat fucking chance."
I couldn't let that happen. Call me stupid, call me cockstruck, lovesick, whatever. I could not allow Gym to get wrecked by Guido. It just didn't compute in my heart, even if I knew it was Gym's fault to start with.
"What can I do to get you to call this off?"
"You fucking nuts? Nothing."
"Just..." I wracked my brain. "Can you not fuck him? Or humiliate him?"
Guido rolled his eyes. "Suck my dick."
"Ok." I said without hesitation.
Guido looked up at me with a surprised half-smile. "Seriously?"
"You promise not to fuck or humiliate him and I'll suck your dick."
Guido thought about it for a second before saying, "Fuck or humiliate. You gotta choose one."
"C'mon man."
"It's about respect! Fucker needs to be put in his place." Guido said, undoing his belt. "So what'll it be?"
I thought about it and you can be sure I wasn't thinking about what Gym would've wanted.
"Don't fuck him."
Guido was already fishing out his junk. "De-" Before he could agree Tommy slapped a hand over Guido’s mouth.
"Hang on." Tommy said.
"Jesus fuck what now?" I asked. This was worse than blueballs.
"You're asking a lot of our friend here and, forgive me for saying, for not a lot."
"Aren't you supposed to be acting like my boyfriend?"
"Door's closed, I'm just your friend in here."
"Then act like it."
"I'm his friend too." Tommy nodded to Guido. "Now shut up and listen. What you're asking could risk Guido the match. Gym'll be fighting at 100% while Guido's got a handicap. If he loses because of that he'll hurt his reputation. You need to offer something equally good for him."
It was my turn to roll my eyes. "Just spit it out already."
"You need to find out Leather Daddy's weakness for him."
That was not what I was expecting. "How the fuck am I supposed to do that?"
"No hey, hey! That makes a lot of sense!" Guido said, standing up. "Papa Bear’s been wanting to stick it in you since you got here. Just shake your ass for him and he'll sing like a canary."
My stomach started sinking. "You want me to seduce the guy who's married to a professional sadist?"
"Yeah 'cause if there's one thing this place is known for it's monogamy." Tommy said.
"And that's gonna stop him from breaking me in half if he finds out?" I asked.
"He's not gonna get mad if he finds out." Guido said.
"Maybe." Tommy said.
"Probably." Guido said.
"Definitely!" Tommy said. "Look we'll keep him distracted alright?"
My stomach was roiling and I was looking for an out. "What if he doesn't have a weakness?"
"Everyone's got a weakness." Tommy said.
"Oh yeah then what's yours?"
"Same as yours."
"The fuck are you talking about?"
Tommy rolled his eyes, lifted up his arm, and shoved my face into his hairy armpit. He held me there for a few seconds while I slapped at his chest and breathed in his musk until eventually a warmth vibrated through my skin and I involuntarily took in a deep whiff. After that he let me go. I was feeling lightheaded.
"And there's more where that came from when you get back with the deets." Tommy said, slapping my ass. "Papa Bear's a stink pig too. Use that if you need to."
I looked between Tommy and Guido. “God you guys are such dicks.”
“I mean I can just fuck him.” Guido said, leaning back. “Get all up in those meaty cheeks.”
“Man shut the fuck up.” I said.
“Hey now.” Tommy got in front of me before this turned into another match. “You're getting a better deal than most guys’d get.”
“He was gonna do it for a blowjob before you stepped in.”
“Oh don't act like you weren't looking for an excuse to jump those bones.”
I could feel myself getting angrier than I could control and still had no other idea in place so I did the only thing I could do, I said yes.
“Now get the fuck out of my room.”
“Oh!” Tommy said as he was leaving, “and make sure you’re four fingers open before he sticks it in! Four fingers!” He held them up to make sure I saw. I threw a book at him.
The boys, to their very limited credit, kept their word. On the day following the blow up in the gym they and Leather Daddy were nowhere to be seen when it came time for training. Guido was right about Papa Bear too, he didn’t exactly wait long before deciding we’d just have to spar together.
“You either gotta get used to fighting bigger guys or you better start bulking.” He said, as though I could do a five minute bulk. He knew what he was doing.
Papa Bear’s philosophy was that training should be as close to the real deal as possible. Probably cause he got a kick out of watching me and the boys dry hump our way half-way to climax. And now that he had a chance to do it himself he was, to quote Leather Daddy, happier than a pig in shit.
I tried my best to duck and weave my way into tiring him out but he was a surprisingly fast bastard. Anytime he caught me he made sure to make me pay. Crushing bearhugs, punishing slams, joint breaking arm locks, you name it he hurt it. And not to mention the groping. Guido was right, Papa Bear so very obviously wanted in my ass. Hell, when he caught me after an ill-considered attempt at a crossbody he all but shoved his thumb up my ass before slamming me down to the mat.
It didn’t help my training that all through the sparring session I was trying to figure out how exactly to get Leather Daddy’s secret out of him. The pressure of that and my growing anxiety over Gym’s upcoming match with Guido all came crashing down on me literally when I tried to be smart and hit Papa Bear with my spinebuster. He’d bounced off the ropes to try and body tackle me and I thought, hey, I’ve been squatting, I bet I can use his momentum to get him up, turn us over, and slam him down on the mat like I did to Tommy.
I was right about the first part. The rest not so much. Once I had him up in the air he proved to be a lot heavier than I had anticipated. We both came crashing down with me on my back and him sitting on my stomach.
He looked down at me over his crotch with an amused smirk. “Alright, what’s bothering you?”
My stomach, at least those parts of it not being actively crushed by Papa Bear’s bulk, turned. “Your ass on my gut is what’s bothering me.”
“Oh, well if then you should get it off ya, heh.” He said. “But seriously,” he reached down and mussed up my hair, “something’s eating at ya, got ya distracted. What is it?”
“It’s-” I puffed, trying to escape. “Nothing-”
Papa Bear leaned back on his hands, pushing his ass harder into my core. “Hey I can sit here all day.”
My bench wasn’t quite at 300 pounds yet but I didn’t need that, I just needed to get him up enough to worm my way out from under him. I could feel my heart beating out of my chest as I pressed with all my might to lift Papa Bear off of me and with a surprised laugh from him I managed to get air between him and me. I quickly moved to slide out from under him but soon my arms gave out and his ass came crashing down right on to my face.
“Oh so that’s what you want!” He laughed his head off as I thrashed underneath him. We were just wearing gym shorts which made for a very thin barrier between me and his sweaty ass. Despite how he looks those glutes were solid steel and had me trapped in there worse than a vice.
As I slowly suffocated under Papa Bear’s musky ass I could only think damn, Tommy was right, I am a stinkpig. My dick was rock hard and tenting my shorts to the point of tearing. Papa Bear was just laughing his ass off as he ground his cheeks into my face.
“If you promise to tell me I’ll get off.” He said. Any response I could have given would have been too muffled for him to understand anyways, so I just kicked my leg up and managed to nail him in the middle of the back. He lurched forward just enough for me to fully slip out and get to my hands and knees, gulping in the sweet, sweaty air of the training room.
“You’re such an asshole.” I gasped.
“Guess that’s why you like me so much.” He said as he sat down beside me. My heart was racing and my mind a mess since I knew now was the moment I needed to strike.
Somehow.
Papa Bear pre-empted me. “Seriously though, I can’t have you distracted like this. You’re no good to anyone if you can’t focus.”
“I know.” I said. Maybe this was the right path to take, all the best lies are based around the truth after all. “It’s…,” the words stuck in my throat as I felt a pang of fear at actually saying them, “it’s Gym.” I finally said.
“Ah,” Papa Bear sighed. “He’s still mad?”
“Yeah…” I said. “We kind of got into a fight at the… in the gym, god damn I hate they named him Gym Rat it makes everything sound stupid, whatever, anyways now he’s got a match with Guido and it’s my fault and now he’s never going to like me again.”
“He gets into a lot of fights in the gym.” Papa Bear said.
“He just gets into fights a lot.” I said. It was true, even on the outside he was always getting into scraps with guys, either at the frat house or at bars or one time in an impromptu fighting ring at summer camp. Yeah there really were signs about the whole gay thing.
“Sounds like he’s the one at fault if he’s always getting in fights.”
“I may have… egged him on a bit.”
“Oh?”
“Tommy and I- it was his idea- we’re kinda, y’know, playing a little joke. On Gym.”
“A joke?”
“Yeah we, uh, pretend to be boyfriends and… we… sorta…. made out in front of him.”
“I see.” Papa Bear said, barely holding in his laughter. “Ok, yeah, maybe it is a bit your fault.”
“Thanks.” I said. My racing mind had settled on a single path forward and I took the first step forward with a glance to Papa Bear. “How did you and Leather Daddy do it? Without ending up hating each other?" I asked. It was scary how easily it came.
Papa Bear smiled wistfully. “It took work. Always will take work in a place like this. Maybe if you stop cock-teasing him and the two of you sit down and talk you might get somewhere.”
“Maybe.” I said. “He’s not really a talker and even if he was… I don’t know if he’d forgive me. For what I did to Frosh.”
Papa Bear laughed at that. “Wasn’t even that bad, you youngin’s are so dramatic.”
“‘Youngin’’? Are you from Kentucky?”
“Michigan.”
“Pretty sure they don’t say youngin’ in Michigan.” I did have a moment’s curiosity about Papa Bear’s past, how a guy like him ended up here, but that wasn’t my goal right now. I had to get things back on track. “You and Leather Daddy love each other, right?”
“Yeah.”
“And you’ve fought before? In the ring I mean.”
“Oh yeah.” Papa Bear said almost wistfully.
“What’s the worst thing you’ve done to him?” I asked. It was a roundabout way of doing it but hey, I’m a coward.
Papa Bear leaned back again on his hands and thought. “Now that’s a tough one.” He said. “We got pretty rough with each other for a while there.” He gave me look that bordered on conspiratorial, really it was easy to see where Tomcat got it. “I could show you, if you’re interested.”
“My mouth went dry and a surge ran up my spine. “Think I’ve had enough of the training dummy treatment today.”
“Not like that.” He laughed, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. “Here, c’mon.”
We went back to Papa Bear’s rooms where I washed the sweat off while he fiddled with the tv remote. When I got out of the shower a thought struck me. I pulled on one of Papa Bear’s bathrobes that was several sizes too large for me and hung loosely off my shoulders. I took a few tries to tie it just right at my waist so that most of my chest and abs were showing off. I gotta admit, there was something exhilarating about being a slut.
I ran a hand through my hair to try to give it a tousled look but just ended up making it messy. I tried to flatten it down again which did nothing to help. I had to grab a comb and push it one way and then another until I was close to satisfied. For good measure I teased a few strands so they fell over my eyes.
Four fingers! I could hear Tommy’s voice in my mind and a shiver went up my spine.
Back in the living room Papa Bear was sitting with his arms spread across the back of his couch. He’d kicked off his shows and was only wearing his gym shorts. My eyes couldn’t help tracing up his calves to his thick, hairy legs, over his strongman style muscle gut, his pecs still sheening from exertion. Shit, maybe this wasn’t so bad after all.
The only reason he didn’t catch me staring was because he was clearly checking me out himself. The way he fought the smile trying to spread across his face was almost cute.
“So what’d you want to show me?” I asked in my best attempt at nonchalance as I sat down next to him. Everyone loves a slut but no one loves an obvious slut.
Papa Bear motioned to the tv. On screen was a grainy shot of a wrestling ring in what could generously be called a cellar. There were two men in the ring and by the look of it this was either video from a couple decades ago or these guys were seriously in need of fashion advice. One guy had a big head of blond hair styled in a mullet and was wearing a singlet colored in bright tie-dye. The other was his polar opposite, wearing dark boots, black tights, with two lines of black paint under his eyes and his dark hair cut short with a widow’s peak.
“Oh shit that’s you and Leather Daddy.” I said.
“Back when he was Pigskin and I was Beer Can.”
“Shit, you used to look good.” I said, mostly tongue in cheek.
“Ouch.” Papa Bear said with a laugh.
“Am I wrong?”
“I’ll have you know my husband thinks I’m very handsome.”
“Maybe I just have a thing for muscle. What? I’m figuring myself out.”
“You’re really saying I don’t have muscle?”
“Sure you do you,” I said, running my hand over his hairy stomach, “it’s just you uh… keep it hidden.” I was definitely lying about the muscle thing. My real proclivities were probably becoming obvious as my fingers tangled with the thicket of body hair just above the waist of Papa Bear’s shorts.
A tingle ran up my spine, or rather down I should say, and I almost forgot what exactly I was here for. “So, uh, what’s so special about this match?”
“Well,” Papa Bear said with open excitement, “you wanted to know what the worst thing I ever did to Piggy was, right? This is it.”
On screen the bell rang and the pair of them exploded across the ring. Papa Bear, or should I say Beer Can, looked like he was going to hit Leather Daddy, or should I say Pigskin, with a clothesline but Pigskin ducked low and caught him in the gut with a running tackle that took him into the corner. With his opponent trapped Pigskin took to ramming him again and again to the point the commentator genuinely said he was trying to ‘break him in half!’
Beer Can didn’t take it lying down though. He hit Pigskin with a double axe handle to the back and then another to break his attack. From there he grabbed Pigskin and tossed him around so that he was now trapped in the corner. Beer Can unloaded on him with punches, chops, elbows, and even slaps to the face. He capped it off by rubbing his armpit over Pigskin’s face. Shit, that got me to a half-chub but it only seemed to piss Pigskin off. Definitely not a stinkpig, I thought. Heh, ironic.
“You guys seem pissed.” I said as we got a close-up of Beer Can’s wide eyed, snarling face.
“Our second breakup.” Papa Bear said, slinging an arm around my shoulder.
“Second?”
“You aren’t the only guy who had a rocky road ahead of him. I told you the story ‘bout when I got him to admit he was into me, right?”
“You let him win a match if he said it, right?”
“That’s it. So he says he’s into me, I suck him off, bingo bango we’re a couple. Only it’s the ‘90s and the gays hadn’t invented things like ‘commitment’ or ‘not hating yourself for enjoying getting plowed’ yet and he gets cold feet. Calls it off, says to forget about it, tries to freeze me out. So I started sleeping around to get him jealous.”
“Did it work?” I asked as I watched Pigskin snap suplex Beer Can, roll over, and start beating the hell out of him.
“It always works if the guy actually likes you.” Papa Bear said, giving my chest a squeeze. My stomach definitely did a flip hearing that, my mind immediately drifting to the way Gym couldn’t keep his eyes off me and Tomcat.
“So he beats up the guys I was sleeping with, I beat him up, we get back together. Smooth sailing for a couple months until the next tournament comes around and there’s a chance for one of us to advance which, us being young and dumb, leads to a fight and then to, well, this.”
He motioned to the tv where Beer Can had retaken the initiative, holding Pigskin up in a crushing bearhug. There was a look of sadistic glee on Beer Can’s face as he crushed the life out of his currently ex-boyfriend. He then slammed Pigskin to the mat in a spinebuster, crawling up his body and trapping his arms above his head so that he could dry hump Pigskin’s face. Pigskin didn’t seem to enjoy that treatment either.
I felt a sick sense of excitement at the thought of Gym and I ending up in the ring the same way Papa Bear and Leather Daddy did. Like wanting to vomit and cum at the same time.
“Like what you see, huh?” Papa Bear said and it was only then that I noticed my hardon poking its way out from between the folds of my bathrobe. Well, Papa Bear’s bathrobe, details.
“Yeah.” I said, trying to stop my voice from hitching. Slowly my hand crept under the waist of Papa Bear’s pants into his forest of pubes, my fingers dancing just above the base of his dick. “You?”
He looked me over again, his lips curved in a wry smile. “I thought you were only into muscle.”
“I am.” I said as my free hand, the one that wasn’t slowly wrapping around his cock, traced over the massive bicep that was resting on my shoulder. I was having a surprising amount of fun with this. In retrospect that was probably because this was the first time I was deliberately flirting with a guy. Well, if we don’t call some of my fights with Hillbilly flirting, but he’s always gonna be the exception. And we’re not talking about him right now anyways, we’re talking about the three hundred pound muscle bear giving me googly eyes while we watched him on tv in a knock-down drag-out sex brawl with his future husband.
So anyways my hand was wrapped around Papa Bear’s quickly hardening dick and as it kept growing thicker and thicker I almost reconsidered my plan of action. Almost.
Papa Bear must have been at least a bit of a mind reader since he asked, “You sure you know what you’re doing?”
“Not really.” I said, probably the first fully honest thing I’d said all day. “Maybe you could teach me. That’s your job, right?”
I honest to god felt his dick twitch in my hand which very quickly went to my head. Both heads, actually. I leaned in and, full honesty here, placed a pretty clumsy kiss on his lips. You know the kind, too aggressive and too off mark, with my tongue going everywhere. What can I say, that was the, what, second or maybe third kiss I’d ever initiated. And my first was with what basically amounted to a virgin.
Papa Bear started laughing and grabbed my face with one meaty hand and held me back. “Easy tiger.” He kept a grip on my cheeks, his thumb running across my skin as he smirked. “You want a lesson in kissing? Lesson one, start slow.”
He pulled me in until our lips met, still holding my face in his strong grip. The feel of his lips moving against mine entranced me and I almost forgot what it was I was doing this all for. It definitely wasn’t an orgasm, no, definitely not. When his grip on my face loosened I slipped off of his lips and kissed down the nape of his neck.
Papa Bear did the same, his beard brushing against my neck sending an exhilarating jolt through my body. Focus.
I glanced to the side while Papa Bear was sucking on my neck which only enhanced what I saw on the tv. In the intervening time Beer Can had lifted Pigskin up into a suspended surfboard, his body stretched and on display for the overhead camera. We got a close pan up from the cum-stained wetspot around Pigskin’s crotch (shit, I missed it), up the treasure trail poking out of his waistline, up his red, sweat glistening abs, his hair dusted pecs, up to his pain twisted face. Beneath him Beer Can was beaming with sadistic glee, shouting “That’s right! That’s what you get! And there’s more!”
With Pigskin’s legs still trapped Beer Can pulled his opponent’s head down lower until it was trapped firmly in Beer Can’s armpit in a combined surfboard and dragon sleeper. If it were any other kind of match Pigskin would have submitted by now. Unlucky for him but lucky for the viewers he was trapped in an inescapable hold. His arms flailed for escape but grew weaker by the second. Meanwhile Beer Can was loving it, using his free hand to grope up Pigskin’s chest, tweaking his nipples and caressing his abs and pecs.
Papa Bear must have noticed my distraction as he pulled back, “How far do you want to go here?”
I looked back to him. I’d pushed/he’d pulled me into the bend of the couch, him leaning back against the corner and me straddling his hips. He didn’t have the longest dick in the Ring, not by a longshot, but the fat round tip of his cock poking out from under the waistline of his gym shorts was probably the thickest I will ever see in my life.
My mind wrestled with itself trying to find an answer, always returning to the same conclusion. How do I get him to talk? Am I really going to do this? I thought as I shrugged off the robe I was wearing, leaving me entirely nude as I straddled Papa Bear.
“Why don’t you fuck me how Leather Daddy likes to be fucked?” I said, possessed of a reckless courage fueled more by lust than sense.
Holy shit I’m actually doing this.
Papa Bear laughed like I had told the funniest joke he ever heard. Not the reaction I was looking for but the way he pawed at my, if I may say so myself, prominent pecs reassured me that I hadn’t completely killed the mood.
“Heh, I don’t think you’ve got the constitution for that.” He said in a low voice that rumbled in his throat and sent shivers up my spine.
“Think so?” I asked as I leaned in, wrapping my arms around his neck.
He ran a hand over my ribs down to my inner thigh before gently cupping my balls in his warm palm. It felt good at first, that is until his fingers started to close in slowly. Papa Bear must have been very practiced at this because the pain didn’t suddenly spike, it grew slowly from a discomfort that sent waves of excitement through my stomach and became larger and large until I began to feel like throwing up.
A part of me, either stupid or brave, wanted to hold on for the off chance I might learn something from this. Luckily for me and my balls I didn’t have even half the composure necessary to act like I wasn’t already dying from the torture. It reached a point where I let out an involuntary cry of pain, my fingers digging into Papa Bear’s shoulder.
“Heh, yeah I think so.” He said, his hand moving to rub my back.
I took a moment to catch my breath by breathing in the smell of him. Even just from where I was resting my head in the crook of his neck I could smell his musky scent mixed with what remained of the body wash he’d used in the morning. I looked to the tv where Beer Can had Pigskin propped up in the corner with his knees at his shoulders, plowing deep into him while he held him in a forced kiss, Pigskin flailing and thrashing the whole time.
Somehow the sight of that both filled me with even more lust and also a deep fear that I felt in the pit of my gut. Still, that same reckless courage took hold.
“Ok then,” I said, “how about you just fuck me, huh?”
Papa Bear grinned and inclined his head, indicating to a side table beside the couch. “Top drawer.”
I leaned up to reach the drawer and as I did Papa Bear wrapped an arm around my back, pulling me in so that my abs dragged across his face. God he really is the biggest slut out there. There were a few things in the drawer but I didn’t need to guess what specifically he wanted as I saw the bottle of lube sitting off to the side. I reached for it and, as a treat for the big guy, made sure that my open pit landed square on his face. He breathed me in deep like he had just come up for air.
Papa Bear used the chance to pull his shorts down and his whole beer can was out on full display, tip already leaking precum. Damn, he really wants this, I thought. I did have another moment pause as I looked at the size, or more specifically the girth, of it. I’ve never learned the exact measurements but I can say that when I wrapped my hand around it I could only touch my thumb with my middle finger. And I do not have small hands.
“Don’t let him scare ya,” Papa Bear said as he squirted some lube up against my asshole, “he’s real nice once you get to know him.”
“God you’re la-ah!” I startled as he cupped each of my cheeks in his hands and both of his index fingers poked their way into my ass.
“What was that?” Papa Bear asked with a shit eating grin.
“Fuck you.” I said while his fingers crept deeper into me. “Keep going.”
I suddenly understood what Tommy had meant about four fingers when Papa Bear put both middle fingers inside me. The way he gripped me it was like he was trying to rip me open and as he dug deeper into me it sometimes felt like it.
“Almost there.” Papa Bear said in my ear as I tightened my arms around him. On the TV the match had wrapped up with Beer Can shouting insults at Pigskin’s crumpled form as it slowly faded to black. “You can turn that off now.” Papa Bear said.
“No,” I said as I grabbed the remote, “I want to watch it again.”
“Hope I’m not boring you.” Papa Bear said with a chuckle.
“No, you’re very entertaining.” I said, sighing as he opened me up. I leaned in so that my muscled frame pressed into his firm body, my arms wrapped around his neck. He spent his sweet time massaging my hole while I watched his younger, muscle monster self at battle with his husband. In between the ripples of pleasure shooting through me I tried to keep my eyes peeled for anything useful in the match.
“Heh, I think you’re ready.” Papa Bear said against my neck. I leaned back so that we were looking eye to eye, him leaned back against the couch and me straddling him. His hands gripped my cheeks and slowly he guided me down onto his hard dick.
This was the first time I’d bottomed willingly and having it be Papa Bear’s beer can dick was definitely a choice. At first it just felt weird, like a shit going in reverse. Then it just kept getting bigger, and bigger, and bigger, until it felt like my ass was on fire and about to split open. Shocks of pain ran through me up through my body.
“F-fuck.” I whimpered.
“Hold on bud,” Papa Bear said, holding me tight. “You’re doing good, just a bit more.”
My knees shook and I sat down on the full length of his thick dick and for a second felt like I had made the biggest mistake of my life. But then there was something else, something quivering inside me. A strand of pleasure like an itch that I hadn’t been able to scratch for my whole life and I suddenly got it. My whimper turned into a wordless moan.
“That’s it bud, that’s it.” Papa Bear said. His arms were wrapped around me in, appropriately enough, a bearhug as he held me secure on his dick. “You’re doing so good.”
Slowly, thrust by thrust, the pain changed into a strange sort of pleasure. Even four fingers hadn’t been enough to get me open enough for Papa Bear’s cock but as he kept pounding it open I started to adapt. The burning went away and soon all I was feeling was his dick against my throbbing prostate.
I leaned into him, my head on his shoulder, as I watched the match while he held me against his chest and kept fucking me. “That’s it boy, that’s it.” He whispered and my dick twitched.
On the screen part of the match I had seen before was playing again. Beer Can had Pigskin in a bearhug, slammed him down to the mat in a spinebuster, and started humping his face. It did hit different watching this with Papa Bear’s thick dick filling up my ass however.
After Beer Can seemed to get himself to the point of climax just from humping Pigskin’s face he got off him and pulled him up by his hair. He slammed him face first into the turnbuckle two or three times before depositing him back first in the corner. Beer Can propped his opponents over the middle-rope same as Tomcat had done to me in our match, guess that’s where he learned it. Only difference is that Beer Can did a sort of disco dance and humped the air before running up and slamming a boot into Pigskin’s balls.
Papa Bear’s deep fucking of my asshole distracted me a bit but I kept my focus on the tv even as he nuzzled against my neck. Back in the match Beer Can had kept Pigskin trapped in the corner with his legs spread. With one hand he grabbed Pigskin by the hair and pulled back his head. With the other he started rubbing Pigskin’s crotch. And then he slammed a knee into Pigskin’s balls.
“Fuck!” I gasped. With how tightly Papa Bear had me in his grip my hard cock was trapped between my abs and his muscle gut and getting rubbed with each thrust. Seeing the complete domination Beer Can had over Pigskin almost made me cum right there.
“You alright?” Papa Bear asked.
“Yeah, yeah,” I panted, lust fully overtaking me, “harder.”
“That’s my boy.” Papa Bear growled, keeping his pace but plunging his cock deeper and deeper into me. In the same way Beer Can was slamming his knee into Pigskin’s exposing balls while jacking him through his pants and whispering insults in his ear. He worked into a rhythm so that his entire body was in sync for destroying his opponent. Knee, stroke, knee, stroke, knee, stroke all the while tearing down Pigskin’s ego.
That was when I realized that, whatever else he was, Papa Bear was a sadist through and through. That was also when I learned that I fucking loved sadists. Beer Can kept his torture going for just a little while longer before Pigskin’s body shook and seized and a dark spot grew in his blue pants right over his crotch.
“F-fuck…” I said shakily, ripples of pleasure scattering through my body from Papa Bear’s fucking and the sight of his younger self ruling the ring with a dominance I hadn’t seen before in my life.
“You ready boy?” Papa Bear asked. “You’re taking it like a champ.”
“Yes.” I whimpered.
“Yes what?”
“Yes daddy.” The words tumbled out before I could think what they meant. It was exactly what Papa Bear wanted to hear since I felt a burst of warmth inside me as he came. The feeling of his cum flipped a switch inside me. Suddenly his dick wasn’t enough. I leaned in close, licking the sweat between his massive pecs, kissed his nipple, sucked it. Still not enough. I grabbed his arm and pulled it up and stuck my face in his sweat, musky pit and breathed it in. Still not enough. I stuck my tongue out and licked the sweat out of his pit, dragging my tongue up and up until I was sucking on his bulging bicep.
With the taste of his musk in my mouth and the feel of his muscles engulfing me I finally reached my climax. I shot a load that pulsed again and again until both of our stomachs were slick with my cum. Even with both of us having cum I still wanted more, somehow. To be closer to him, to anything. I lowered myself fully on his dick and leaned into him, my head resting against his chest. Papa Bear obliged me, wrapping me up in his arms and holding me against him. He shifted us down so that he was laying across the couch and I was sprawled across him, my head resting against his chest.
“Feel better?” He asked as he stroked my hair.
“A bit.” I said.
Papa Bear chuckled. “Sounds like we need to do this more often then.”
I lay in his arms while the match kept playing. The warmth of his body soothed my muscles like hot stones against my aches and pains. Did I feel a bit guilty that I’d used this to entice info on Papa Bear’s husband out of him? Maybe I did at first but by now I’d moved on, seduced by the pull of comfort. It’d been months since I had felt anything like this level of security and safety. Even with Tommy we were still in the showers with who knows what just beyond the curtain. In here, in Papa Bear’s arms in his apartment I knew I was completely safe and sou-
Voices came from the hall and suddenly the door creaked open. I leapt out of my skin and Papa Bear’s arms in a fright. There in the door were Tomcat, Guido, and, most importantly, Leather Daddy.
“Hey Piggy.” Papa Bear said from the couch.
Leather Daddy looked me over, naked as the day I was born and with a smear of cum across my stomach and, I would later realize, dripping down my leg. Tommy was cautiously looking between me and Leather Daddy while Guido was just giving me a double thumbs up mouthing ‘you got this!’
Leather Daddy stalked over to the fridge and pulled out a beer. “So Varsity, you still got that match with Rodeo this week?”
“Um,” I looked to Papa Bear, who seemed oblivious to the situation, “yes?”
Leather Daddy ‘tch’ed. “Management won’t wanna mess with that. Guess our match has to wait ‘til Top to Bottom.”
“Top to Bottom?”
“The live show that’s coming up.” Tomcat muttered to me.
“He’s already got a match booked baby.” Papa Bear said.
“That so?” Leather Daddy said, taking a swig as he surveyed my sweaty, cumstained body. “Looks like you better pace yourself, boy. You got two now.”
Fuck me.
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