Message from John Carter

This blog is rated R and is not appropriate for people under the age of 18. If you are offended by gay content, please move on and read some other blog.

Friday, August 19, 2011

At the Gym (Part 4) and some miscellaneous stuff

Before I continue with my story about meeting a guy at the gym, there is some Tom Hardy news that I need to pass along.  Remember Tom?  He's the guy I talked about a few posts ago who will be staring in a movie about Mixed Martial Arts called Warrior, and he will also be staring as Bane, Batman's opponent in the upcoming The Dark Knight Rises.  First of all, there is a story making the rounds on the internet that Tom was "knocked out" by Shia LeBeouf - the dude who stars in all those Transformer movies.  According to Tom himself, Shia punched him and knocked him out back stage during the filming of an up-coming movie. To this I say, WHAT THE H?!?  Tom, even if it's true, don't say it!  Shia's a punk.

The other story, posted on Britain's Daily Mail online site, was an excerpt from an interview with Tom in which he said that he'd had relations with men.  That peaked my interest as you can well imagine.  Of course, the story was accompanied by a picture of Tom with some pretty actress (I forget who) that I think he's going to marry.  So all that gay-ing around is in his past.  Tom!  Before you swear it all off for good, how about a wrestling match with me?  Think about it, dude. Then, after I've beaten you, I'll kick Shia's ass for you.  I swear it. 






Okay, back to my story:

That Saturday morning was one of those perfect late summer days when the humidity was not so oppressive and the sky was absolutely perfectly blue.  I was stoked to wrestle my friend, and a little nervous, too.  I knew he was married, so I was wondering exactly how all this was going to work out.  Just about fifteen minutes before ten I took off, drove across town, and got to his place right at ten (I'm a stickler for being on time).

He lived in a perfectly normal ranch style house.  There were a few kids toys in the front yard, and that unfortunately reminded me that he had a family.  Still, I bounded out of my car and up to the front door.  I rang the bell...and his wife answered the door.  I was a little shocked, but recovered myself pretty well.  She was nice, and asked if I was Doug's (have I mentioned his name?  It was Doug) wrestling partner.  Odd choice of words--partner.  But I said, yeah, and she let me in.  I was suddenly seized with the fear that I was going to be wrestling Doug in the garage or backyard while his kids and wife watched and I was SO not cool with that.  But, she was gathering up her things and shuttling her kids to a minivan.  They were off to her mother's for the weekend and he was hanging around with me before going to work that afternoon.  So, I settled down, and sat on the couch while all that domestic activity went on around me.

Honestly, in spite of the fact that she was leaving, I wanted to go.  I felt like I'd stumbled into some odd situation where I did not belong.  It was all so...wrong...and I really just wanted to bolt out the door.  But I didn't, as much for Doug's sake as mine, and soon she and the kids were gone.

Doug walked into the living room and sat down in a chair.  He was dressed in gym shorts and a tank - he looked good.  And he was in a good mood.  He told me she was gone for the weekend and that he had to go into work around one.  But that we had plenty of time to work out (his words).

I quite naturally asked, "Where are we going to wrestle?"

He answered me by pointing at the floor (which sort of confused me for a second) until I realized that he wanted to wrestle there in the living room.  He jumped up and pushed back the chair, and then asked me to help move the coffee table.  The room was carpeted in an ancient shag, and I had visions of carpet burns.  But he left and then returned with a big quilt which he threw onto the floor.  Then, to my amazement, he stripped off his shirt and got down on his hands and knees.

"Come on, dude," he said, grinning.

I hesitantly stripped off my shirt and shoes and got down on the floor with him.  He was impatient, and the whole time I was getting off my shoes, he was slapping the floor and saying "Let's go!"

We faced each other and he stood up on his knees and stretched out his chest.  "I'm not going to go easy on you today, Jack," he said.  "I'm going to get you in a hold and I'm not going to let you go?  You ready to be my bitch, dude?"

I had gone through so many emotions over the previous few moments that I had a hard time shifting into pretend bad-ass mode, so I just sort of grimaced and went at him.  We locked up and immediately I could tell that he was enjoying feeling our bodies together.  Unlike when I'd wrestled him at the gym, here he was not looking to submit me as much as to just feel me.  He was grinning like crazy and we took turns getting each other in holds.  He got me in a hold,  then released, and then I got him in one, and released.  This went on for a bit, until he got me in a headlock.  He did not apply real pressure.  Rather he just held me around the neck.  I worked to break his hold but he wasn't looking to end this.  He was enjoying keeping me under control, and he moved in close to me, working his legs around mine so that he was absolutely flattened against me.  That was when I realized that he was hard as a rock.

He pushed forward against me until I was on all fours and he was draped across my back, his arms around my neck.  He began to thrust against my ass with his groin. He was wearing shorts--as was I--but I could feel how hard he was and he began to moan.  So, I suggested we break, strip, and resume our positions.

Without saying a word, he stood, kicked off his shorts and then got back down on the quilt.  I did the same.  He positioned himself behind me and we were right back where we had been, his hard cock pressed against my ass.

I decided not to let him just take me, so I used his distraction to break loose and reverse him.  We wrestled for a while, back and forth, and slowly we got more serious about it.  Something told me that whoever won would do what they wanted, and I wasn't ready to let him have me.  I wasn't sure I could stand it.  So, I wrestled as hard as I could, and eventually I got his back and worked one of his arms around behind him.  My arm was around his neck, and he struggled for a bit, but then gasped out, "I give.  You...you beat me.  I'm...I'm yours..."


That was one of those moments in life where you hang, suspended in air.  I had a choice to make.  I could indulge myself--I'd earned it by beating him--or I could release him.  I understood his situation in life, his responsibilities, his obligations.  I knew he wasn't free, and that anything I did to him could be considered, on some level, morally objectionable.  I thought, for a brief fraction of a split second about the wife and kids who'd tumbled out the door and into the minivan.  I thought of the jingle of the keys, the wave of hands, the sippy cup full of purple liquid.  I thought of all those things, and I hesitated.

But then I fucked him.

So, sue me, I'm only human. 

1 comment:

  1. I went back to read some of your old stuff, the wrestling encounters. Fuck dude, I came reading the end of part 4! That thick ass cock of yours in Doug's ass...did you ever wrestle or see him again?!

    P.S. Don't know how the comments thing works, so hopefully you see this :D

    ReplyDelete