Gay Erotic Stories

I had been living on the west coast and, due to a promotion at work (and recent break-up with a philandering actor boyfriend) needed a place to live out east. I was on a short-term lease at an apartment I felt was too expensive for what I was getting and wanted to find a home of my own. So, on a beautiful Sunday I found myself driving around looking for open-houses. I hadn't found a realtor for myself but – as I was bored and wanting to check out the lay of the land - I decided to see what was being listed and, if possible, talk with some potential agents to see if any were worth giving my business to.

The first houses I found were not for me. Cookie-cutter homes with tiny rooms and few unique features. I didn't want the same house as everyone else in the neighborhood. I wanted it to be something special and unique. I had almost resigned myself to the fact that nothing was going to jump out at me when I made a wrong turn and ended up on a road that wound through a part of town I had never been in and headed out into a more rural area. I kept telling myself to “turn around” but something compelled me to keep driving, and to my surprise I saw an “open house” sign along the side of the road five minutes later.

I remember chuckling to myself and thinking “either that sign has been here for months or the real estate agent thinks anybody drives on this road.” I had been driving for twenty minutes and had not seen another car. Still, it was worth the risk to see if there was indeed a house available and open for inspection … so I followed the arrow on the sign and turned up a side road.

A few moments later and I saw it. A gorgeous house nestled within a small community of about fifteen houses that all looked inviting and – most importantly – none looked the same as the other. They weren't mansions but they were all very nice. I saw the “open house” sign in front of the one at the end of the road and thought two things: “I’m not going to be able to afford it” and “if I can afford it, this is the home I am going to move into.”

There were no cars in front and, according to the sign, I only had fifteen minutes before the open-house was finished so I pulled in front and hurried to the door. I stepped inside and was welcomed into a cozy foyer complete with hardwood floors and fine wood trim and …

… and then I was welcomed by the real estate agent. He walked in from the rear of the house and I’m sure my mouth dropped open a little. He was at least six foot two and wore a charcoal gray suit that fit him as if it were custom made for his body – which was slim and taught and obviously well taken care of. His hair was a dirty blonde and styled carefully. Everything about him was well put together and appealing. He smiled and extended his hand.

“Hi, I’m Randy … thanks for stopping by.”

For a moment I couldn't think of my own name but finally I remembered it, smiled and shook his hand.

“Come in, let me show you around.” And he showed me the house in detail – extolled the wonderful layout of the first floor and showed me the three oversized bedrooms on the second floor. Every room we entered, every corner we turned made me fall in love with this house more and more. Randy pointed out the features and the taxes and what the schools were like in this area. I was half-listening to what he was saying, I was focused more on the way his mouth moved or how his tight buttocks looked as he walked up the stairs ahead of me.

“Are you from the area?” he said - the usual realtor small talk.

“No,” I said “I moved here for my job. I'm originally from Los Angeles.”

“LA! Well, this neck of the woods is going to take some getting used to I think. It’s awfully quiet around here!”

“I think I could use a little peace and quiet” I said politely.

“But not in the bedroom, right?!” He laughed and I laughed with him, not really sure if the tone of his question was the slightest bit suggestive – but hoping it was.

“It is beautiful in the winter out here” he said as he headed down the stairs towards the living room.

“I'm not a fan of winter,” I said honestly. I hated snow. However, I loved all the money I was being paid to move here for my job so I could handle four months of winter.

“So, no skiing or snowboarding for you?” he asked as we entered the kitchen.

“No” I said “I'm more interested in indoor sports.”

He smiles politely as we started heading back downstairs. “That's what I figured by looking at you. I could see that you keep yourself in shape. That's why I wanted to save this part of the house to show you until last … I think it's going to cinch it for you!”

He opened a door and we headed down to the basement and I was, indeed, impressed. It was finished but not in the wood panel and shag carpet of most finished basements … this one was ready for a fitness center that would have made any professional trainer jealous. There was no equipment in it, but you could see the potential. A wall of mirrors to admire your workout, a bathroom with jacuzzi tub and shower was off to the side, and a curious area in the corner covered with what looked like – and I would know better than anyone - wrestling mats.

“The previous owner had the mats put in for his judo lessons,” Randy explained. “He ran several studios in the area. The way had had them installed it was easier to just leave them. He was hoping the next owner would be an athletic person who would appreciate having them.”

I walked over to the mats and stepped on the corner of one. Soft, not mushy like some of the wrestling mats I had been on and certainly better than any of the motel mattress I had rolled around on.

Randy cleared his throat “what sort of indoor sports do you like? We couldn't be so lucky as to hope one of them was judo?”

We both laughed a little.

“Wrestling” I said, matter of fact.

Randy smiled. “I'm not sure if you mean the sport or the kind you do with a woman in the bedroom?”

I smiled and turned to him “it would be with a man, actually.”

“Oh?” he said. It wasn't an “oh” like he was surprised – more like he was happy to hear that.

“I hope that doesn’t bother you?”

“Not at all!” he said as he stepped closer to the wrestling mats. “Of course, it’s not often a potential client gets so intimate with their personal life.”

“I'm sure you don't want to hear all the details about it.” I said. Randy walked up closer to me and smiled.

“Maybe you're right” he said stepping onto the mat with me, looking at me. “It's probably one of those things that you're better of demonstrating?”

I took a step closer to Randy. “The problem is, Randy … the kind of wrestling I would be using these mats for isn’t collegiate style – or even the crap you see on television on Saturday.”

“What kind is it?” Randy asked, obviously intent on finding out.

I took one more step towards him – we were now about a foot apart. “Naked.” I said and paused a moment to let that sink in. “Erotic wrestling.”

“Like foreplay?” he asked, hopefully. Yes, I’m certain he was asking hopefully.

“Depends on the opponent. It could end up in bed or we could end up just having drinks and saying goodnight.”

He smiled and said “sounds pretty hot. You’ve wrestled that way a lot?”

“Once I got into a relationship I stopped. But before that I was quite a contender … I had two or three matches every week.”

“That sounds amazing” he said. “And how would you win a match? Pin? Submission?”

I realized Randy knew a lot about wrestling … and I felt the twitching in my boxer briefs getting more intense and was afraid I was soon going to start filling up my already tight jeans.

“No,” I said as I turned towards the stairs. I knew if I answered him honestly our conversation would probably end. Anyway, I was probably just imagining that he was being as interested as he was … this could be nothing more than an attempt at making a sale on a house.

“Come on,” he said. “How do you decide on a winner?”

“The first guy to … orgasm.” I let that sink in a moment. Randy didn’t react. He just stood there staring at me. “I know … pretty strange, huh?”

He took a step closer – we were now almost nose to nose. “I don’t think it’s strange … I think it sounds pretty interesting. Especially when you’ve done this so many times. How many matches did you win?”

“All of them” I said.

“So, that kind of makes you the champion of the west coast?”

“Not champion … but someone who knows a few tricks.”

He moved up in front of me … almost nose-to-nose. “Then maybe what you need is a few lessons in how we wrestle out here on the east coast?”

My cock pulsed now, stirring and getting ready for a fight. He winked at me slightly as he said it, waiting for me to respond.

“What did you have in mind?” I said.

“The open-house has been over for a half hour and the owners are in Minnesota so they won't be coming home … why don't we see how much you like these mats on the floor? I mean, how can you tell if they're going to serve their purpose if you're not able to try them out?”

“You mean … now?” I said.

“Do you have to be somewhere?” he asked, a bit disappointed.

“Of course not.” Even if I had to be somewhere I would have cancelled it. “It’s just that …”

“Relax,” he said with that butter-melting smile of his. “No strings attached. I'm only doing my duty as a realtor. Giving the house a trial run to see if it's going to meet your needs if you purchase it. And, besides … I think the west coast champion deserves a match against a cocky east coast challenger … don't you?”

How could I argue with this logic? I smiled back and nodded.

“Let me go lock up,” he said as he headed towards the stairs.

“Won’t the neighbors wonder why my car is still here?”

“If they ask – which they won’t – I’ll tell them you’re my co-worker and you came to help me clean the basement. While I’m gone, why don’t you get ready? Try out the shower if you like?”

Randy went upstairs and I went into the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. I was wondering if I knew what I was doing – allowing myself to be locked in a basement with someone I didn’t know – but then I realized that it was no different than all of the other times I had met somebody in a motel, or their office, or their bedroom … not knowing what to expect and certainly not knowing if they were as “safe” and “sane” as they claimed to be.

I stripped out of my clothing down to my boxer briefs and stepped back into the basement where Randy was taking off his suit.

“You leaving the underpants on?” he asked, a bit disappointed.

“I don’t want to make this too easy for you,” I said. He nodded and pulled off his pants. He was wearing briefs and a t-shirt and when he pulled the t-shirt off I saw that the amazing body I had suspected was underneath his suit was just that – amazing. He had big pecs with nice nipples that were already protruding in the chilly basement air. My eyes trailed down his abdomen, following a line of fine blonde hairs to the bulge in his briefs. I was certain that what was in his underpants was just as impressive as the rest of him.

Clad only in out underpants we went to the mat and stood opposite each other, staring at each other, sizing each other up.

“Nice” he said. I was pleased to hear it. I had been a little lazy in my gym regiment lately but was glad he still liked what he was looking at. “Too bad about those boxer briefs … but they won’t be on you for long.”

“It takes more than threats to defeat me, pal.” I said with my fighting tone. It had been a while since I spoke with the cocky fighter’s arrogance I used to when I wrestled. It felt good.

“So, what are the rules?” he asked.

“No scratching, no trying to kill each other, nothing gets broken.”

He nodded his agreement.

“Other than that … anything goes.”

“Anything?” he asked with the malicious glee of a child who just discovered he could burn ants with a magnifying glass.

“First let’s see what you’re able to do … if we don’t like something, just say ‘computer’ and we stop.”

“Computer. Got it. Are you ready to get your ass kicked?”

“Fuck you,” I said. “I didn’t lose one match on the west coast, I’m certainly not going to lose to some cocky punk my first time out here!”

“We’ll see!” Randy said as he leaned down a bit, his arms out in front of him. He stretched one arm out to shake.

“May the best man win?” he said.

I figured this would be a good test of his caliber so I shook his hand. He was sincere about it. A good, solid handshake. Then we moved apart and began to circle each other. Randy made the first move – he struck with a speed and strength I hadn’t expected. He grabbed me around my waist and swiped one of his legs behind mine, pushing into me so that I stumbled backwards and landed flat on my back. The instant I hit the ground his hands were on the waistband of my boxer-briefs and he pulled them down my legs and off of me – tossing them to the corner.

“Not bad?” he said looking down at me, smirking.

“Not bad at all” I said. He stood over me, smiling. I waited for his next move but he reached his hand out and helped me up onto my feet.

So, now I was naked and he wasn’t … I had to do something about that quickly. We moved in again and this time I slipped behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist, picking him up and throwing him down to the mat on his stomach. He let out a loud “ooof” as he hit the floor. As he had done I reached for his briefs but he growled “oh, no!” and spun onto his back. He lifted his legs and locked his ankles on either side of my neck and before I could brace myself he yanked his legs to his right and I flew down to the mat. He was on top of me in an instant, straddling me and pinning my arms to my side. He stared down at me.

“Want me naked … want to even the score, huh? Not going to happen that easily, I’m afraid! You have to work to get me to cum, bitch!”

He didn’t know this but I hated to be called “bitch!” I grunted and tried to break out from underneath him but the little fucker was strong. I looked at the bulge in his groin which was now straining against the fabric of his briefs. Then with as much force as I could manage I roared and pushed myself up into a sitting position – forcing Randy backwards onto the mat. I lifted my legs and forced them down on his shoulders. He was now bent backwards and struggling to sit back up. I took the waistband of his briefs …

“No! No, no, no!” he begged – apparently hoping to keep his advantage as long as he could but I yanked down on his briefs.

His cock sprung from within – and it was a monster. I am by no means “small.” I have always considered myself – at best – to be average. I am usually at least as large or slightly larger than my opponents but this time – as Randy’s beast appeared – I knew I was fighting an opponent with a much larger “weapon.” It had to be nine inches and it was so thick that, even though sex was not on the horizon, I could feel my anus pucker in fear.

Still pinned on his back he looked down at me and his cock and smiled “I hope you’re able to handle it, stud! So few boys are able to tame that little monster of mine!”

I smiled back – a cocky, arched lip smile as I stared hungrily at the salami laying in front of me. “Maybe you need to wrestle more men” and I grabbed his cock and gave it a firm squeeze. I pulled it so it was pointing straight up at the ceiling and began to struck it.

“Oh! Oh, fuck!” Randy said – his humor faded. “You go for the kill right away, don’t you?”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t even nod. I was back in the fight zone and was focused on teaching this cocky, well-endowed hunk that he had not just stepped into the ring with some pushover. I may not “technically” have been a champion on the west coast – but I still never lost a match. And I was certainly not going to lose today.

Randy maneuvered his way out from beneath my legs and managed to roll to the side. My hand released his penis but my other hand held onto his briefs and as he pulled away from me I pulled them from him. Now we were both naked. I got up on my knees to attack but Randy surprised me by rolling himself back over to me – on his back in front of me – and opened his mouth and swallowed my cock.

“OH!” I cried out in shock and an intense wave of pleasure. “OH, SHIT! NO!!” I had only wrestled two opponents who had ever used the blowjob hold on me. Neither had been very good with it and shouldn’t have bothered – but Randy’s warm mouth and tongue lovingly flicking at my cock as he slid it in and out of his mouth made my entire body tremble and intense pleasure fill me. I wanted to let him make me cum – because I could tell from the sensation he was giving me that it was going to be a massive, body-weakening orgasm.

His hand found my balls and rolled them around playfully – rubbing my orbs and his fingers sending shockwaves of passion up my spine and throughout my body. I am not usually a “moaner” but I threw my head back and cried “ohhhhhhhh” as he worked me over. His mouth slid my cock in and out – not hesitating for a moment. I had to do something if I was going to stay in this fight.

I moved my hips back quickly and was able to pop my cock from his lips but he was up and lunged at me in an instant. We struggled on our knees, hands clasped, until we both fell on our side. Randy rolled me onto my back but I forced him over onto his back – we went back and forth like this until I had him on his back and held him there. I maneuvered myself down so that my cock, which had calmed down, was pressed against his.

“Cockfight?!” he said cheerfully, with the biggest smile he had given me since I arrived.

“You won’t be too happy when this finishes you,” I said as my cock began to grind against his.

Our cocks fought each other – his monster sliding to the side of mine as we rubbed them back and forth. I leaned up a bit and rubbed my cockhead up and down its length. We both grunted and moaned and stared at each other.

“You’re good at this” he blurted out between pants of breath.

“You’re no pushover, either!” I said. We kept looking at each other and slowly I watched Randy’s expression turn from amusement to pleasure to … dare I say “passion?” He closed his eyes and turned his head to a side a little, biting his lower lip. I knew he was trying to hide the swelling urge to cum and I took the hint and began to grind and slide my cock against his harder.

The moment I revved up my pace he clenched his eyes and his entire body trembled. He pursed his lips tight – desperate not to reveal his predicament. Finally, he couldn’t hold it in any longer and he turned to me. He looked sincerely afraid … almost pleading.

“Please don’t make me cum yet” he said in a whisper. A deep, sexy whisper reserved usually for the bedroom and not the wrestling ring. “Please … I don’t care if I lose but not this soon. I don’t … I don’t want this to be over so soon!” He gasped, his eyes went wide a bit as his cock slowly began to betray him and he turned away again, closing his eyes and trying to focus on something else.

Was it a trick? It probably was, and even if he lost I had no intention of getting dressed and leaving right away. I smiled and said “you don’t have to worry about it being over just because you lose. But what kind of champ would I be if I showed you any mercy?”

I got to my knees and moved in between his legs and took his cock in my hand. I began to lovingly roll the head in my mouth and he pounded his fist into the mat.

“No! NO! Not that … please?!” He was a begger. I loved a man who begged for mercy. It was such an incredible turn on for me. I, of course, ignored his pleas and went to work on his cock, swallowing about three-quarters of it and bobbing my head up and down on it. He cried out and gasped and I could feel his body writhe from side to side.

“You don’t play fair!” he yelled into the empty basement. “We haven’t even wrestled yet – just a little sucking and some frot!”

I slid from his cock with a loud “slurping” noise and looked at him. “You want to wrestle, huh? Would a few submission holds turn you on?”

He smiled at me “would me begging for mercy in a few submission holds turn you on?”

I moved back a little and took his ankles in my hands and folded his legs up into a yoga-like lotus position. He could sense what was coming and he put his hands down on the mat and began to pat them as I folded his legs up into a neat little pretzel.

“Ow! Oh, fuck! Ow, ow, OW!!” His hands turned into fists and began to hit the mat harder as he threw his head from side to side, grimacing.

“Remember the safe word is ‘computer’” I whispered.

“Got it,” he said as his arms went across his head and he howled. “Fuck! Oh, fuck! My fucking legs! Oh, God … MY FUCKING LEGS!”

He looked at me – pleading. He leaned up a bit on his elbows so he could look at the origami that used to be his lower appendages and we made eye contact. His voice was soft but there was definitely an urgency behind it. “Please! Please don’t keep me in this hold! I can’t take it much longer! Please?! Please let me go?!”

I held his legs in this very uncomfortable hold and looked down at him and, with no humor or anger or any tone at all, simply said “no.”

“FUCK!” He screamed as he threw himself back on the mat, I could feel that he was trying to thrust himself away from me and out of the hold – but I held on tightly. “You’re breaking my fucking legs!!” he cried out.

God, he was turning me on! My cock was rock hard at his performance and if I so much as touched it I was certain I would spew a big load all over him. I had realized – a few years ago – that I was indeed a masochist. But, as with the houses I prefer, I was a “unique” masochist. I got off on the agony and pain and begging of a victim but only if I knew it was acting. If I thought I was hurting him this badly for real I would already be in the car driving him to an emergency room to make sure he was alright.

“Ungghhh!” He groaned as he continued to try to escape. He arched his back and tried to crawl from me but I wasn’t letting him go. “For God’s sake” he finally shouted at me “you want to fucking cripple me?”

“Not a bad idea” I said as I released his legs and moved in between them. I decided to focus on his right leg and straightened it out and leaned up – he knew what was coming and screamed “NO! NO!” waving his hands frantically as he tried to lean up to stop me but I slammed my knee down onto the side of his leg. I repeated this move three more times – each time Randy bounced and pounded the mat and performed so amazingly that I just wanted to grab my cock and stroke myself off watching him “suffer.”

I continued to work on his knee – pressing my fingers against it. Like a surgeon trying to locate just the right spot I maneuvered my fingers around on the side of his knee.

“What are you doing” he said in a hoarse whisper – leaning up on his elbows again to watch.

“Looking for just the right spot to place my claw hold on you,” I said matter-of-factly.

“Not a claw hold! NO! You can’t do that to me!” He desperately tried to crawl away but I was not about to let him escape this soon. I continued to hold his right leg stretched out and found the spot I wanted and pressed my fingers into the meat on the side of his knee.

“N-N-N-N-O-O-O-O-O!!” he screamed and stomped his left foot into the mat. I was ruthless. Merciless. I worked his knee cap for a solid fifteen minutes of claw hold and knee slam before I moved back and took both of his legs – once again folding them into the same lotus position I had him in before.

“Oh, fuck no!” he shrieked. “Not this again! No fucking way!” But there was no way he was getting out of it and I folded his legs up and held them down. He sat upright – looking right at me and nodding his head furious screamed “I GIVE UP! I GIVE UP! I GIVE UP!”

I nodded and released him and he rolled to the side of the ring, holding his right knee. He whimpered in defeat but we both knew it wasn’t over yet. I sighed – as if I were bored with him (even though that was not the truth at all!) and crawled over to him.

“Time to finish you off, Randy” I said as I positioned him for my inescapable finishing technique. He tried to struggle but I would just slap his right knee and he would buckle and scream. I forced him onto his back and laid down across his right arm, trapping it under my back. I snaked my own left arm behind his head and grabbed his right arm. He was now flat on his back – both arms secured – and ready for me to stroke his red, throbbing cock.

“That’s it?” he said whimpering. “Just going to finish me off now?”

“Of course I am” I said as I took his cock in my hand and began to squeeze it. He moaned as my fingers wrapped around his dick and I admit it felt pretty amazing to be stroking such a massive cock. He turned to look at me.

“Even if you win this is far from over … I’ll demand a rematch.”

“I’m sure you will, baby” I said with a smile. “And I’m sure I’ll give you one.”

I stoked his cock harder now. His eyes started to close a bit and I could tell by the trembling in his frame that he was getting closer to shooting.

“Don’t make me do it?” he whispered, his eyes fully closed now.

“Have to, baby.”

His body was shaking now and I was stroking his cock fast and hard now. He tried to keep his lips closed but his lower lip was trembling. His breathing was fast and loud.

“Puh … please? It’s not … not fair! You didn’t let … me … punish you in a hold?”

I hadn’t thought about that. I looked at his muscular torso – completely trapped and moments from going past the point of no return – and I stopped. He opened his eyes and his heavy breathing began to slow down. I gave him a moment to control himself and he lay on the mat – his entire body tingling and ready to erupt with just a few more seconds of pleasure. I had never let an opponent go when I had them as efficiently as I had Randy. But no opponent had ever offered me the opportunity to showcase my own acting abilities in a wrestling hold – and I was curious what hold he was going to try.

I sat down on the mat, prepared to give Randy at least five minutes to regain his composure, when he leapt up from his back and was on top of me. He was on his feet and planted his foot against my chest and pushed me onto my back. I couldn’t react fast enough before he was on top of me and straddling my stomach. His perfect ass lowered down onto my chest and I reached up but all I could do was hold his back or squeeze those firm cheeks of his … which would have been amazing had we not been wrestling.

He grabbed my legs and pulled them up. I braced myself for whatever he was preparing – a leg lock or a splits – but he pulled them up and wrapped his arms around them so that I was now in a sort of reverse roll-up. My legs were secured under his armpits and I lay there staring at his back – wondering what he had up his sleeve – if he were wearing a sleeve.

His hands went to my ass and began to caress it and his fingers found their way into my crack and explored it.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Wrestling” he said.

“What kind of hold is this?”

“An erotic one” he said turning his head to the side so I could watch as he put his finger in his mouth and rolled it around, getting it nice and wet before he slid it out with an audible “pop.” I realized what he had in mind and began to squirm.

“Oh, shit! NO! You wouldn’t dare!” I tried to escape but I couldn’t and a moment later I could feel his warm, wet finger pressing into my hole.

“No! NO!” I screamed.

“Illegal hold?” he said as I felt his finger hesitate at the entrance to my most private opening.

“Of course not” I said defeated.

“I thought not … now if you’ll excuse me?” And his finger slid into my asshole and I – being extremely sensitive and aroused by anything going in there let out a long and very excited moan.

“See, babe?” he said as his finger began to slide in and out of my ass “a wrestling hold can be pleasurable and still be awful!”

I lay on the mat, rolled up with my ankles staring at me and my opponent finger fucking me and realized – at that very odd moment – that I was going to buy this house. I stared at the fluorescent lights in the ceiling and thought about all the evenings and weekends I would be down here staring at these lights or having someone else stare at these lights.

“I’m not getting much of a reaction from you” Randy said. “I better amp up the punishment a little.” And as he said that a second finger wormed it’s way into my anus and two fingers began to fuck me. I cried out in pleasure and frustration again and he mercilessly pumped them in and out of me.

“Yes” I thought to myself as tears began to fill my eyes and my screams filled the basement “I’m going to buy this house.”

“Randy! I give up! You got me! I don’t want you to do this anymore!” I pleaded at him.

“Really? Maybe I don’t give a shit?” He laughed a bit as he continued to fuck my ass with his fingers.

I lay there and moaned and whimpered and begged for Randy to release me but he wouldn’t. I closed my eyes and thought about Randy and I wrestling in this basement again – possibly later that same evening. I thought about the holds we would try against each other and the matches we would have. I gasped louder and louder and Randy never eased up on me until finally I felt my body give up and I arched my back and began to shoot a massive load of cum.

“Yeah! That’s the way you win these matches, champ!” Randy finished pumping his fingers into my ass as the last few drops of cum dribbled from me and he finally let my legs fall back to the mat. He turned himself around, still straddling me as he began to tug on his own hard cock.

“So,” he said staring down at me “do you think the house is going to work for you?”

“The house and other things that come with it” I smiled back at him.

“Like the wrestling mats?”

“Definitely keeping the wrestling mats … and I may have to hold onto the realtor who sold me the house?”

“Nothing wrong with a workout partner” he leaned down and kissed me and, though it was unexpected, I kissed him back. It was deep and passionate – our tongues fighting each other in our warm mouths. My cock, though spent, was still throbbing and ready and willing for more action.

He leaned up and started to stroke his big cock faster. I pulled my hand out from beneath his leg and began to stroke and play with his balls.

“Ungh!” he whimpered, bringing himself closer to a much needed release. “Maybe we need to go two out of three before we announce that you’re not the champ anymore?”

“Maybe” I said. “If that’s a challenge for tonight consider it accepted!”

I grabbed his cock and began to stroke it for him – wanting to feel what it would be like to have his snake explode under my control. He threw his head back and began to gasp faster and louder with each stroke. Always the fighter he cried “don’t make me cum, champ! Oh, shit! Don’t make me cum!”

“Have to, Randy … I have to!”

I closed my eyes – he leaned back on his hands and knew he was about to do it. His begging turned to cries of the most amazing and intense pleasure. Whimpering moans of pleasure that would make a porn star hot.

After only a few moments he finally screamed “SHIT! OH, SHIT! OH … I’M GONNA DO IT CHAMP! I’M …”

I ordered him to cum and felt his ass lift up from me – his back arching as his massive tool pulsed in my hand. I waited for him to cover me and knew – in a few hours – we were going to find ourselves in a situation like this again … although if I had anything to do with it, he was definitely going to lose the second round.