When I was about 18 years old, my best buddy was Steve. Steve stood about 5' 8" and weighed about l45 lbs. He had an attractive build, but especially muscular thighs. I stood about 5' 7" and weighed in around l55lbs. Though shorter than Steve, my build was stockier, but not soft. I had great arms and was very proud of how they looked in a short-sleeved shirt. Steve and I had met the year before when he moved to the town I'd grown up in. Typical suburban California, but fun place to explore on bicycles, which was my first connection to Steve. Steve and I would head out on our bikes any Saturday we didn't have to work at home. It was on one of our hours-long rides that we came upon a huge field of wild grass nearly as tall as we were. We headed into the center of the field, maybe 40 yards off the path, stopped, let our bikes fall, and both plopped down on the ground. Immediately we were aware that we were fully hidden from the outside world. Both of us started to laugh about our newly found secret place. For minutes we just lay there, a couple of feet from each other, enjoying the pleasant weather, a little breeze rustling the grass around us. "Steve, have you ever had a fantasy about what you might do if you could find yourself with your best buddy in a truly private place?" "What do you mean?" he asked. "Well, I've seen you at school in the gym, and you seem pretty strong when you're lifting weights. I was surprised the first time I noticed the amount you could lift since your build isn't that big." "I guess I'm just wiry. I like competing against myself, since I'm an only child and never had a brother to test my strength against." "Wow! Me too, I mean, about wishing I'd had a brother to compete with. My own fantasy is exactly that: to find someone, uh...special...you know...a best buddy... to test myself against. You know, like maybe rasslin' around, seeing who's the strongest or the toughest...." Steve's eyes lit up, and I knew the idea excited him. "You read my mind! I've watched rasslin' on television, but those guys are obviously faking it. I've thought how it might feel to really get into a no-holds-barred match with someone I could ... I mean... you know...trust...but who was willing to push the limits." For about a minute we both sat there, lying on our elbows, facing each other in the tall grass, silent, thinking. "If we're going to do it, and I think we are, let's get these jeans and shirts off and do it right. Wrestle in our skivvies." "Absolutely!" I replied. And so we rather quickly stripped off our shoes & socks, jeans, shirts, until we faced each other on our knees in just our jockey shorts. I wondered if Steve was shaking inside as much as I was. Not out of any fear, but the anticipation of what was to follow. "Shall we set any rules, " I asked? "Naw. Let's really fulfill our fantasies. Mine is to wrestle anything-goes, no-holds-barred, dirty tactics allowed, until total submission. How about you?" "Wow! That's perfect. And I'm going to bet we both get pretty rowdy before this match is over. I suspect it's really going to be a match of endurance...you know, who can take the punishment better than the other." "Let's find out." And with that Steve grabbed me in a headlock and wrenched me to the ground. He was squeezing hard and I had to push up on his chin to try to pry him loose. But his grip was tight and he began to twist my head tighter and tighter. Here I am, lying on my side, flailing around to escape the pain of his hold, and I find I'm quite enjoying the pain. I reached up and grabbed a fist full of his hair in my hand and yanked as hard as I could. I pulled him over, and though he kept the headlock I has now on top of him. I quickly spread my legs apart and grape vined them around his, while simultaneously getting him into a headlock. And there we were, each with a tight, squeezing grip around the other's head, our legs intertwined, chest to chest, crotch to crotch, and if by some unspoken agreement, began to squeeze each other harder and harder. This first test went on for about three minutes, ferociously grinding our cheekbones into each other, our crotches beginning to pulsate as well. Keeping my left arm around Steve's neck I released my right arm and reached up to grab his hair again, not to pull him around, cause I was already on top, but rather just to add an element of pain. Just as I expected (and hoped for) he used his right hand to reciprocate. Now we were locked in a combination headlock & hair-pull. "How about a first stage contest? Let's keep this hold on each other and work it without stopping 'til one of us gives," I said. "You got it," he said. And so what became more agonizing minutes we both increased the pressure on both our headlocks and hair pulling. It was clear that this is what we'd both longed for - a mutual test of punishment to see who was toughest. On that day and at that place, I won that first contest. When Steve finally cried, "I give" I released the hold and was just about to release something else. My cock was throbbing with excitement, hard as I'd ever felt it short of cuming. As I sat up beside Steve's prone, panting body I looked down and his cock was fully erect, too. Nearly out-of-breath, Steve said, "Okay, you won that one. So what's your price?" To tell the truth I hadn't even thought about any winner's privilege, but it seems that Steve had. So I said, "Okay, you stay down on your back while I think of what I'm going to claim." As he lay there, I gently leaned down, straddled his body with my legs going out beside his, my face looking down into his, and I began to slowly move my crotch against his, our shorts alone separating our mutual hard-ons. I reached down and grabbed each of his wrists with my hands, spread them out above his head, began moving our crotches at a slightly faster pace. And he responded in kind. He knew and I knew that this could only end one way, so I said, "Positioned just as we are, this is a second test, to see who cums first." He gave no reply but began to furiously grind his crotch into mine, with intensity I could hardly have believed possible. Our arms were flexing, biceps expanding and contracting, the beauty of our supple upper arm muscles a visual delight. Our legs were now squeezing one another again, well-formed thighs in punishing embrace, calf muscles as hard as granite. And lower still our cocks were fighting for victory! This grinding continued five, maybe six minutes, sweat lubricating every point where our bodies touched, the sexual arousal reaching indescribable heights, until finally we simultaneously exploded!! Our heavy breathing could have been heard quite a ways away - thank god we'd found our little secret arena. As both our cocks went limp, so did the rest of our bodies. We both lay very quietly arm against arm, leg against leg, for several minutes. Steve broke the silence first and asked, "How do you feel?" "How do I feel? I feel fuckin' great!" I was surprised to hear my own obscenity, for a didn't use the "F" word often. But at that moment I felt "fuckin' great." I leaned over to Steve and asked him the same question. "I guess I feel surprised. Well, ...uh.... I mean it feels ... I mean I feel great, too, but I wasn't expecting 'that' to happen." "What "that'?" I teased. "You know, cuming." "Oh THAT!" I began to laugh amiably, in no way making fun of Steve, and he finally began to laugh as well. With the ice broken and enough said that needed to be said, we lay back down and were just quiet beside each other. After several minutes, it was Steve who asked the question. "So... ready to go at it again?" "Not in these cum-filled shorts. Let's strip and go at each other naked in our next fall?" As our shorts came down, our otherwise tired cocks began to stir themselves to a renewed state of arousal. While we were each focusing on our rival's gorgeous piece of meat, free as each now were from confinement, tall and proud and getting taller moment by moment, I seized the initiative, threw Steve to the ground, rolled him on his stomach and sat with my crotch on his ass, reached down to his neck, and began wrenching his neck backwards. I could feel the pain it was causing him, but his quick wiggling made me lose balance, and as I was falling over Steve scissored my abdomen. As he began to tighten the screws on the hold it was my turn to wince in agony. His legs were strong. Those thighs I had so admired were now the instrument of my torture. I tried to reach his neck to choke him, but couldn't quite reach. Nor could I reach far enough to grab onto his hair. And the seconds are ticking off and I'm finding it harder to catch a breath. I'm also beginning to find my cock getting harder. The pain was turning me on, again! I desperately wanted the pain to continue, but I was also afraid I was on the verge of crying "Uncle". What could I do? And then I spotted it. Or rather "them". I reached down, grabbed his balls, and began to slowly squeeze. Tighter, then tighter still. Now it was time for Steve's face to register the agony piercing through his body. He tightened the scissors, I squeezed his balls harder. Incredibly, his endurance that day in that contest won out. I heard myself cry, "I give! I give! Let me go!" Honorably, he immediately let go of the scissors hold. As I lay there, gasping for breath, I saw him massaging his groin. His balls still hurt. At least he knew he'd had to pay some price for his victory. But it was his victory. "So, what's your price for this round?" "I'm thinking.....I'm thinking 'bout that." After a minute of shared silence and recuperation, Steve said, "Roll over on your stomach, arms straight up, face forward." As I obeyed, he proceeded to clamp a full nelson around my neck, laying his hardening cock on top of my ass cheeks. To this was added grapevining my legs. And then he said, "This time the contest is this: whether I can cum before you can escape this hold." And with the words spoken, he began to hump my ass. It began slowly at first and only gradually did he pick up the tempo. It felt AWESOME, and I started to grind my ass into his cock at his rhythm. My cock was hard and growing harder between my stomach and the earth. The scraping hurt, but not enough to make me slow down. For a couple of minutes I struggled to break the hold. But, in truth, I wasn't trying to get out, but only to increase Steve's enjoyment of the moment. And I finally helped him succeed. Accompanied by a loud, vocal outburst, Steve began cuming over the top of my ass, so much that I could feel it running down the sides of my hips. All warm and sticky, it felt great! This time it was Steve's turn to roll off and lie beside me. More minutes of shared silence, and it was I who spoke first. "I'm ready for round three, but I don't want it to be the "deciding" round. Whoever wins, I really want there to be a fourth, a fifth, not to learn who the "winner" is, but to see how much pleasure each one of us can give to the other." A beautiful smile graced Steve's face. He nodded and very quietly whispered in my ear, "Me too." And so with hours of daylight left us that first day, we wrestled and wrestled, keeping hard cocks through the duration, getting and giving each other as many holds as our imaginations could produce, brutalizing our opponent in the most painful challenges, and cuming until there was nothing left to shoot. And hours after our match had begun, we both lay there, side by side, hurting in pure ecstasy. And we both knew neither could wait until tomorrow rolled around. (The End)
