Turning tables - Riding to the Max

Still no clue as to what had driven Simon to give up his ass. Perhaps it was some primal instinct or a spontaneous urge to be ridden. Not that he was complaining. Max had won fair and square, Simon was the loser and the winner does what winners do, taking the spoils. And there was no other spoil but him.

And Max knew he was a looser and that next time Simon would screw him soon, maybe this evening when they had a rematch. But Max riding Simon had happened the week before.

Max had been there when Simon came out of the gym after his after-work session. It was about eight and pitch-dark, and everyone was already gone. Simon was the last one to get out of the crappy little weight room, and the cleaning crew had left. Max had been waiting for him at the exit to the locker room. He looked pretty angry.

Simon just stood and looked at him with a huge grin on his face. The memory of fucking Max's ass had that effect on him.

He figured Max would be upset about what had happened between them and would want to kick his ass. Something Simon was only too eager to deal with.

"What's up, Max?"

"I want revenge Greenfield."

Simon snickered.

"You kicked my ass in training," Max said.

That was not what Simon had expected.

"Right," he hesitated, "that's what happens," he said, getting ready. "Especially when you are as much of a bitch as someone named Kulinski would be."

Max turned red. Perhaps memories came back to him.

Simon chuckled. "All could see it. And you weren't looking too bumped out about it, the way you pressed yourself against me when I had you in a hold, one could believe you wanted me to fuck your ass."

Simon played it cool.

"You had me on the ground because you were lucky."

What was Max pulling off? Why wasn't he already jumping Simon? Did he have a plan or something?

Max did not flinch. "Well, maybe you want to see if you can win when no one is watching?"

Simon realized what kind of game the guy was playing.

"Rematch?"

"You and me. No one else."

Max held up a big bunch of keys. "We have the hall completely for us. But this time with a few extra rules. "

Simon was interested. "Bring it."

"The winner gets the spoils," Max said.

Simon froze. The coach always used to say that when he wanted to give them an incentive before a fight. Usually that meant some hot girl who had already agreed to it.

But Simon was sure that Max did not mean that. Apparently he wanted a second time with Simon and maybe this was just an excuse.

"You and me?"

"That's right," he said with a grin. "Hall doors locked, nobody who can save your ass."

Simon laughed. "You and me." he said.

Max had devised his own special rules and explained them to Simon after he undressed.

He stripped off his T-shirt and showed the firm, muscular outlines of his chest with those bright nipples. He sent the shoes away and slowly pushed his gym pants down while Simon watched; his body shone with sweat. Then he took off his underpants, and Simon felt his cock stiffen. He watched as Max sat naked on the bench and began tying his wrestler boots to his feet. He explained the rules for a wrestling that he would lose.

Simon listened to everything grinning and nodding. That would be the first fight he would really enjoy winning.

Rule One: They would wrestle naked, except for the boots. Both. Not a crappy bag holder. Only the wrestler boots.

Rule Two: There were no rules against gripping between the legs, boxing under the belt, nothing. No fairness shit. It went all the way until one of them was pinned down. "

Rule Three: The winner gets the spoils.

Simon's cock twitched wildly as he undressed and got into the red wrestler boots.

It was a fight from the beginning. Their skin was hot and slippery with sweat; it was hard to put a handle on Max. Simon smelled the spicy scent of his abdomen and his ass and the rest of his body –memories of the last weekend flooded his mind. It almost overwhelmed him, and that's why, Simon thought, Max could throw him to the ground. He began to roar like a madman and threw Simon on his back. He had caught him cold. Simon did not expect Max to get him down so fast. Simon went back, grabbed him, and got his wrist. At that moment he pulled his knee up, kicking Simon in the balls. Simon saw stars and fell back, and Max climbed onto his chest, holding the knees on the shoulders and upper arms down while his cock was twitching and stiff against Simon's neck and he slapped him in the face. The pillar of his cock was almost within reach, but Simon did not care about it. Instead, Simon got another slap in the face, where Max laughed.

"Probably forgetting Rule Two, is not it, Greenfield?"

Simon squirmed and got slapped again. At that moment, he got his arm free and rammed his hand into Max's ass. Not in the cheeks - right in the middle. Simon pinched his fingers hard in the asshole, felt it give way, and then tore the hair. Max yelped in pain as some of his ass hairs stayed in Simon's fingers. And he lost his balance, and that was enough for Simon to throw him off. Done and gasping, he fell on his back. They fought. Max struggled and kicked under Simon but could not get his eggs. Simon had him down well and he did not come up.

Simon licked his lips as he looked into his beautiful face, which was sweating, and imagined his lips obediently closing around Simon's cock. Then Max performed a perfect role under him–Simon didn't have the faintest idea how. He supposed he was not paying attention and thinking too hard about slamming his shaft down Max's throat. Before he knew it, Simon was lying on his stomach, and Max grabbed him by the wrist, which he turned on his back. Simon had to move quickly to come out from under him and Max lost the grip on his arm. They clung to their grips again, holding their grip, wrestling like savages, but no one did it right.

Simon breathed heavily, their tails twitched only a few inches apart. Simon started to worry. Which cock would end the fight in the inferior asshole?

The sweat poured down on their bodies. Their faces were close, and Simon could smell Max's breath. His face was fire-red. He tried to reach down and grab his balls. Instead, Simon put his hand around Max's wrist and slammed it down on the mat. With his shoulder Simon held the other arm down, and his hand fumbled senselessly around for a grip.

It was not wrestling, it was a mud fight. And damn it was a lot more fun than wrestling, that was fucking good. Simon might shoot over that fucking mat if he could not hold back for long, until he'd put Max on his stomach and put his cock in him!

Simon laughed at Max while holding him. "Open wide, Max. I know you swallow."

"So do you," grunted Max.

With a twist, his arm came free, and he caught Simon's armpit hair. Simon yelped –he did not expect him to pay back what he got! He cursed when Max rammed his knee back into the balls and Simon could not breathe. But Max kept going. Like a true athlete or lone fighter, Max took advantage of it. The pig kicked Simon two more times between the legs, firmly in the balls, so he gasped for air. Max slipped away from him for a moment, then he came heavily to rest on Simon's chest and held him with his whole body.

Simon smiled. Max had spread his legs over him, and his soft, juicy eggs were waiting for a merciless fist that would crush them. And Simon had the arm free.

He was ready to strike hard and make Max feel what he had done to him. But at that moment Max's cock twitched and Simon was done for.

Instead of crushing the balls, Simon gently closed his mouth around the shaft and began to suck. Max's dick was as delicious as it had been last time and Kyle did his best to get Max's essence as fast as possible. His balls were still aching and he could not breathe properly. And he did not care. He worked the shaft from top to bottom, milking it vigorously, wanting it to shoot its juice into his mouth.

Annoyingly, Max pulled his cock out and slapped Simon with it. He was asserting his dominance and hit Simon in the face several times. Max laughed and got up, dragging Simon with him, forcing him on his knees.

"Open up, loser!"

He brought his cock into Simon's mouth, pushed and forced the thick shaft between the tightly closed lips. He grabbed Simon's head and started thrusting back and forth to fuck him in the face like the dominant guy he was. He had won over Simon fair and square, all of Simon belonged to him and he took what he wanted.

Simon sucked Max and swallowed the thick glans. The first time he almost choked, but he soon had no problems anymore when Max rammed his cock in the throat.

Being completely at his mercy, Simon tasted the excitement of Max's victory.

"Ah yes, great mouth, yes!" Max growled cruelly as he swept Simon's mouth and throat, before throwing him off.

“Had enough, loser?" he asked, towering over Simon, stroking his glistening cock.

Simon said nothing, pretending to be scared.

"Turn around!"

When Simon did not comply Max came down on him, grabbed him and tried to wrestle him further into submission. Simon fought back a bit, just enough that Max had to fight for his prey.

Simon was turned on his belly, pinned down by Max's fully weight, and started to squirm under him as if he did not want to be fucked in the ass, which could not have been further from the truth.

Max pressed his face on the mat and rubbed his hard dick against Simon's buttocks.

"You like that? Do you like the thought of having my cock in your ass? I beat you into pudding, fuck toy, now open up! You're gonna pay for what you did to me!"

Simon was still "struggling," Max was the winner, and Simon was his prize and not a compliant participant in this ritual. So, in a sudden burst of inspiration, Max pulled a pair of wet, dirty, long sports socks out of his bag and tied them around Simon's wrists before joining him. Simon had his hands tied behind his back and Max pressed his face into the greasy mat as he walked behind Simon and lubed Simon up before he put his spit moistened cock between Simon's ass cheeks. Simon felt him press against his tight asshole as he opened up to be fucked. Then Max forced his thick cock in the tight hole and pushed all the way in. He gasped as he slowly pushed himself into the hole.

Damn, the fucking thing was big. Max took his time and fucked Simon in long, hungry jerks, hit him on the ass and pushed him down on the mat.

Max was as good a fucker as being the fucked. He was either a natural or already experienced. Right now Simon did not care; all he cared about was the dick in his ass and the hands grabbing his hips. His shouts rang through the room.

"That's right, let all the world hear how much you like it!"

Max untied Simon and pulled him on all fours, pounding him with the same speed that Simon had fucked him only a week prior.

When Simon finally started pumping and coming closer to orgasm, Max reached down and slapped Simon's hand away.

"No touching, bitch!"

Max's lips came down on Simon's shoulder and sucked hart, making Simon groan and spill his juice over the wrestler mat.

"Come on, little fucker! Come, bring it!" he shouted at Max.

Max crossed the threshold; his tail jerked in the fleshy channel and shot his streams of fuck juice into the tight asshole. Simon's ass cramped as he came, and he milked the dick to the last drop.

Both collapsed on the mat, lying atop of each other, glued together with sweat.

"You need a fucking shower, Greenfield. You smell like a changing room. "

"Likewise. Butt pirate."

"Watch your mouth bitch," was Max's response together with moving his still hard dick inside Simon turning Simon into his bitch again.

"Rematch;" Simon panted.

It still took some time for the two to leave the hall that night.

Now Simon was standing in front of Max's house, ready for the rematch.

The final part of the story will be revealed in "Turning tables - Max(imum) Pleasure"