Gay submission wrestling

“Yeah, you can come over to my house after school on Friday and spend the night. Then we’ll go spend the rest of the weekend out at your farm. Sounds like a good plan.”

I hung up the phone and went back to doing my homework for the next day. I wanted to make sure that everything was done so that Mom didn’t object to having my buddy, Dusty, over and then us going to the farm. My parents both approved of Dusty as a friend and thought of him as a good influence. And, my sisters thought Dusty was nice to have around because they thought he was cute.

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My name is Cayden Banks. A six-foot-three, broad-shouldered, muscular and dare I say extremely good-looking young Black man currently living in Virginia. This year has been the year of changes for me. I graduated from Castor Academy, an all-male private boarding school in Boston, Massachusetts, and got accepted into Saint Theresa College. It’s a private, deeply religious school located in rural Virginia. Originally, it was a women’s institution for well over two hundred years, but three years ago they voted to admit men. The college is now home to ten thousand students, and half of them are men. Unfortunately, there are only eighteen hundred Black students, and I’m one of them.

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I’d recently met and begun dating a much younger woman that myself. The thing I liked almost immediately about Crystal was her open-mindedness, and obvious lack of inhibitions. Even her friends appeared to be an odd-mixture of people whom she’d introduced me to at one of their gatherings. Obviously several were gay, lesbian as well as a few who were definitely ’straight’ so I didn’t feel totally out of place as we spent the evening together. Surprisingly, I found I’d had a really good time, not at all feeling uncomfortable as I enjoyed a rather lengthy conversation with one of Crystal’s very gay male friends.

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Will, Bob and I had known each other for many years through college sports, nights out drinking and various other ‘guy things’. Though I knew they were gay, this had never made a difference in our friendship. We really had much more in common than we had differences. They had always respected that I wasn’t gay and had never seriously come on to me. Boy did that change after a night of watching pro gay submission wrestling on TV!

The three of us were hanging out at Will’s house one steamy August evening watching the pro gay submission wrestling matches when the subject turned to how the matches were so obviously faked. Bob was making fun of some of the costumes and noting how it was always the women whose clothes seemed to get ripped off while the guys managed to keep their little Speedos intact. We all laughed at the sexual connotations and possibilities of some of the holds and moves. This took the conversation down the path of what would really make gay submission wrestling entertaining. Bob suggested that they should go back to the days of the Greeks when the contestants wrestled in the nude. Will agreed whole heartedly and added that to make it really high stakes, the defeated wrestler should be subject to the humiliation of having to satisfy the winners lust right there in the ring in front of the whole world as a penalty for losing. After all that hot body contact, it was hard for even me to think they never got turned on by each other.

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I’m a 26 year old, fairly good-looking and masculine man who developed such an intense crush on a stud police officer and neighbor of mine. This neighbor, James, lives three houses down, across the street with his attractive, blonde girlfriend and cute lab puppy. He is a young officer in our local town’s force and also coached the local Babe Ruth baseball.

Unfortunately, he hadn’t been living in town when I was on the team. I would have creamed in my pants if I got to practice on the field with this stud. He moved in about the same time I went off to college, so I never really had any neighbor dealings with him. But I’d see him drive by in his squad car, stopping off at his house for lunch, and, who knows, maybe a quickie fuck with the girlfriend. I’d peek out my window and salivate as he’d get out of his car and walk into his nicely kept, Colonial style house.

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Adam repeated this mantra continuously, hoping that he would convince himself that he would be able to get through it. He looked absolutely ridiculous; standing in front of a floral-framed mirror in the bathroom of his current girlfriend’s house. His thick brown hair was disheveled, his Levi’s dangerously unbuttoned, and his remaining sock had a hole in the toe.

He looked at himself in the mirror, and saw a bead of sweat threatening to fall on his bare chest that was rapidly rising and falling.

“I can do this,” he repeated once more, “what the hell is wrong with me?”

This was not the first time Adam encountered this problem. No more than a month ago did he have the exact same panic attack, albeit with another girl. No one could blame him; he was in fact what most teenaged girls called “the hottest fucking guy they’d ever seen”. With 19 years of age under his belt, his future looked extremely bright, in both the educational and aesthetical sense. At 6′3″, Adam pretty much towered over the remaining seniors at Thurgood High, except for the Varsity basketball players, but who knew what “physical enhancers” they were taking. But yes, he was your typical Casanova, except for one anomaly: he was still a virgin. With his piercing blue eyes, muscular, sturdy frame, varsity letter for gay submission wrestling, and an SAT score of 1460, he was many a high school girl’s wet dream, yet he hadn’t gone through with the dirty deed despite countless offers. Whenever presented with the opportunity to have sex, Adam would break out into a cold sweat and run for the nearest door. Don’t get me wrong, he took full advantage of the countless blowjobs under the bleachers in the gym or in the backseat of his car, but when it came time to have actual sex, he fled.

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You could say I had a bad experience. A really bad experience. It happened at the local college I was attending, in the dorms where I was living. I guess, if we’re measuring the sweet with the bitter, I was lucky it happened at the end of the semester, but unlucky that it was just before the winter holidays. I was lucky that it was the very day or rather evening after I’d finished my final final exam, but unlucky that I was completely worn out from studying. Lucky, too, that I was thinking of transferring.

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Jason Walters, 178 pound high school senior and Gay submission wrestling phenom finished showering and changing and grabbed his gear to head to the parking lot and go home. As he passed the Gay submission wrestling practice room, he noticed the light was still on and the door was open a crack, so he pushed it open to see his coach bare-chested, in just his shorts and bare feet, doing takedowns with an imaginary opponent.

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It started out innocently enough. Tim and I had grown up neighbors. He and his family moved into our neighborhood when we were both six years of age. He lived two lots down from me. There was a vacant lot between our houses where a house once stood, but had been torn down. A developer was going to build a duplex in its place, but that was to be two or three years down the road.

There was a huge dirt pile in the vacant lot. Consequently, the lot was a magnet for all the neighborhood kids. We tried to ride our bikes as high as we could up the huge pile. We dug foxholes for neighborhood army maneuvers. We dug tunnels, and buried stuff. It was a great place. Tim and I met on this dirt pile the day his family was moving into their new home. We became fast friends.

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Coach Hazard, the coach of my university Gay submission wrestling team, who ran a program of total commitment of players to each other and him—in every way—had told all of the wrestlers that they could come over and use his swimming pool at any time. And I was so sore and strung out after the sessions where I was initiated—totally—into and by the squad that I took him up on the offer one afternoon. I was still being broken in and hadn’t been given a position on the squad, and I knew there was a Gay submission wrestling meet during that time and figured that Hazard and the rostered wrestlers would be busy with that and that I’d have the pool to myself.

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