Message from John Carter

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Friday, March 11, 2011

The Perfect Match (Continued)

There on the mat, beneath the dim light,  slick with oil and sweat, we struggle.  I am on top of him, my back to his stomach, and he is mostly in control.  My chest is exposed and I feel my cock harden even more as I try to escape his grasp.  He slowly reaches around, whispering in my ear as he does, and clamps his hand on my cock.

"I've got you now," he says, and he begins to jack me off.  I try to break free, but he's pumping me hard and the pleasure is almost too much for me to handle.  I hear him laughing at me, sure that he will make me cum all over my hard stomach and chest, but I'm determined to deny him the satisfaction. 

He loses his concentration slightly, and I am able to slide around and face him.  His smile fades as I straddle him and we lock hands.  For a moment we are man-to-man, muscle-on-muscle, his muscular chest heaving from the exertion, his hands slick with sweat and oil.  I feel his breath on my face, see his thick, red lips.  He's closed his eyes in concentration, working his hands in mine, trying to force me back.  Then, he slides under me and we roll over, him on top, then me, then him.  I keep moving under him and we are off the mat--and by mutual consent--we break and get to our feet.

We're both breathing heavily, but neither is near exhaustion.  His clearly defined muscles gleam in the half-light and I see that his cock is oozing pre-cum.  Our eyes meet, and we see in each other the perfect match, the perfect opponent.  We want this match to go on and on, until we both explode at the same time.  But for now, we come together, our arms intertwined, our muscular legs thrusting us forward against each other.  Our hard, hard cocks slapping together. 

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