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Saturday, December 28
3:30 PM EST
Tampa Events Arena, Tampa, FL
Pierce Livingston
“Are you wanting something from the concession stand?” A tall, skinny and late teenage guy waited for me to respond. He had a blond ponytail pulled together and through the opening on the back of the required hat that went with his uniform. I was standing there with a wet head several feet in front of the Tampa Events Arena’s main concencession counter waiting.
“We’re closing soon,” the teen continued without a response from me yet. He hadn’t taken his eyes off me. A long moment later he asked, “Did you compete today?”
“Yeah,” I answered as I raised my right hand to look at the green rubber wristband I wore before scratching his ear. “I won the first one 7-2. The second one I won 17-2. So I won by a…”
“Technical fall,” another wet headed wrestler said as he approached me. He, too, was wearing a green rubber bracelet. “It was quite the match.”
“How did you do today?” I asked the other wet head.
“I won both,” he said as I watched him look me over. I gave him a good once over, too. He seemed to wait for my eyes to return to his so I would see him check me out, yet again. He started at my blond hair, down to my blue eyes and then onto the birthmark just under my Adam’s Apple. Those brown eyes of his went onto my torso in the too small white Omaha University wrestling t-shirt I wore just for him. His gaze proceeded to the base of my package covered only by an almost too loose pair of gray cut-off sweatpants and back up again. “But your point spread was better than mine.”
“Are you guys thirsty?” the late teen asked. “Because I sure am.”
I smiled at my fellow wrestler as I chuckled and said, “Thanks buddy. I think we’re okay.”
“Yeah, we’ll get something at the hotel,” my new partner in crime agreed.
I took the opportunity to have a good look at him while he spoke. He was tall and lean as he stood well more than seven inches away from me. “You’re taller than most, aren’t you?”
“Coach tells me I’m the tallest wrestler in the NCAA,” he said. “So you’re gaycollegewrestler?”
“Yep,” I answered as I took in the sight of this dark complected Adonis who stood before me with two days of growth on his beard. His black Wyoming State University t-shirt was too loose to offer much of an idea of what was underneath. “You’re the Deep South guy?”
“I am,” he said as he extended his right hand with its green rubber bracelet around his wrist. “I’m Mitchell,” he said.
“Pierce Livingston,” I said before the concession stand guy spoke again.
“Nice bracelets,” the late teen yelled, still not having moved an inch.
“Thanks buddy,” I said without taking my eyes off of Mitchell. “Are you ready?”
“Oh yes,” Mitchell said. “Is it just us?”
“I think so,” I replied as we stepped towards the doors. “I probably watched the beginning and first periods of ninety percent of the matches today. I didn’t see anyone else with fluorescent green undies.”
“Did your coach or teammates say anything to you about them?” Mitchell asked.
“Not today. We’ll see what tomorrow brings, though. Is this your first time in Tampa?”
“It is,” Mitchell said.
“So you’re a freshman then?” I asked once we were outside.
He looked up at the sun before he closed his eyes and allowed it to warm his face. With his eyes still closed he answered, “Yeah. You?”
“I’m a sophomore,” I joined him and closed my eyes to enjoy the sun’s warmth. “It’s six degrees in Omaha today.”
“It’s ten degrees in Sheridan,” Mitchell said. “Did you come to Tampa last year?”
“Yeah, I came in second for my weight class.”
“One hundred thirty-three, right?”
“Yep,” I answered. “You’re 184?”
“You know your weight classes, don’t ya?”
“I’ve studied a lot of men over the years,” I answered.
“That’s partly why I love wrestling.”
“You and me both,” I said.
“So, justme didn’t fly down here to join us?” Mitchell asked.
“Nope. It’s just us.”
“You started the SpreadIt group didn’t you?”
“I had to,” I answered. “I knew I wasn’t alone and wanted to prove it.’
“I hope it’s not just us three.”
“I don’t think it’s just us. I mean, I don’t know if there are ten, but I hope there are more than three. I don’t want to have to wait until nationals to get laid by another wrestler again.”
“So where do you suppose justme is from?” Mitchell asked.
“I have no idea. That’s part of the challenge with the wromocode group. We have no idea how many are out there. I know that fifty-three unique SpreadIt members have seen our posts, but there’s no telling who among those are wrestlers. And I want us wrestlers to be very careful not to divulge many personal details while we’re sharing our posts. I mean, it’s nice to know your name and I’m glad you know mine, but we can’t post them on the public feeds.”
“I hear ya,” Mitchell said.
“So where’s your hotel?” I asked. “Do you have your own room?”
“This time, I do,” bursa escort Mitchell asked. “How about you? Do you have one to yourself?”
“No, I have a roommate.”
“My hotel it is, then.”
“Can we walk?” I asked.
“It’s a thirty-five minute walk. I say we rest our legs for tomorrow and take an Uber? My treat. And besides, I’m nervous that you can’t breathe normally in that tight shirt. Surely you’ll want to take it off as soon as you can. So an Uber is better.”
“Oh I can breathe just fine. I have to advertise, you know. How else would I turn any heads on campus?”
Mitchell chuckled. “I’m sure those baby blue eyes of yours have turned quite a few heads before now. That shirt though. How did you even get it on? I mean, your shoulders and arms are just huge.”
“All right,” I said before letting my duffle bag drop to the ground. I grabbed the bottom of my t-shirt and with one quick motion peeled it off. I stood with my hands out cockily to my sides as if I was on stage and just pulled off a stunning magic trick.
Mitchell’s mouth was agape as he looked at my chest. I think he liked how my big shoulders and thick biceps complimented my chest and eight, count-em, eight visible abdominal muscles. “Oh my god,” Mitchell said after he picked his jaw off the ground. “We are going to have so much fun.”
The honking horn of the Uber driver is what, finally, broke Mitchell’s stare. “No wait!” Mitchell yelled as I went to put the shirt back on? “Leave it off.”
“You’re kidding?” I said. “What if the Uber driver’s not comfortable with a shirtless man in his car?”
Mitchell opened the front door and asked, “Do you mind if he leaves his shirt off?”
“I don’t care,” the Uber driver answered. “Are we going or what?”
“All right, muscles. Let’s go,” Mitchell said as he closed the front door and opened the back door and held his extended arm out to let me get in first.
We were only in the Uber for a short eleven-minute ride to the Quality Hotel Mitchell and his team were staying at. “You probably should put your shirt on before you get out of the car,” Mitchell said as we pulled up to the front doors. “We’ll walk straight through the lobby and take a right down the hallway. I’m on the third floor. We can take the stairs at the end of the hall.
Once we stood on the landing on the third floor, Mitchell slowly pulled open the hallway door and stuck his head out and whispered, “The coast is clear. Follow me.”
I couldn’t help but cup his ass as he stepped back to pull the door open and pass through it. As I followed him, I kept looking at him from head to toe. I couldn’t get over how tall he was.
Mitchell stopped at a door halfway down the hall and waved ahead at a guy with a tell-tale cauliflower ear that many wrestlers have (many see them as earned) who had just turned down the hallway from the elevator. “Are you going to dinner, Daniels?” the cauliflower ear asked.
“Nah. I’m eating with my cousin here,” Mitchell replied. “Pierce, this is Hatfield. Hatfield, this is Pierce.”
“Hey. You had a good day today,” Hatfield said to me.
“Yeah, not too bad. How did you do?”
“Won one. Lost one,” Hatfield replied to me before he turned his attention back to Mitchell. “You wanna play Xbox later, Daniels? I brought a new game I got for Christmas.”
“Sure,” Mitchell replied. “See you later.”
“Later,” Hatfield replied as he walked to the room next door to Mitchell’s.
Mitchell pulled his keycard out and tapped it on the lock. He walked through and held the door open for me as we heard Hatfleld’s door slam shut. “We’re going to have to have some other noise going on in the room so he doesn’t wonder why it was so quiet in my room.”
“I hear ya there,” I replied as I, again, stripped my shirt off.
“Did I tell you how thankful I am that you started the wromocode on SpreadIt?”
“You may have mentioned something in the Uber,” I replied as I stepped forward and put my hand on Mitchell’s chest.
“Well now I want to show you how grateful I am,” he said as he went to his knees and grabbed for the top button of my jeans.
“Now before you go on getting too far ahead of yourself, we need to follow the wromocode here.”
“What did I forget?” Mitchell asked.
“Did you read it from start to finish?” I asked in return.
“I read it once.”
“Let’s start with the basics then. And I realized I got overly excited when I grabbed your ass while we were on the stairs. Do I have your permission to touch the sides of your face?” I asked as I looked Mitchell in the eye while he was breathing on my treasure trail.
“Oh right,” Mitchell said. “Yes. You have my permission. Do I have your permission to unbutton another button of your pants?”
“You may unbutton all of them. And before you go any further, I am here willingly to be touched and sucked and fucked. You do not have to ask for my permission again.”
“Likewise,” Mitchell replied. “Okay. What else have I missed?”
“I won by a technical fall today. bursa escort So I get a five-minute massage on the body part of my choosing that isn’t my cock. I believe I also had the best point spread for the day, so I get the first blowjob and I get to decide who gets to bottom first.”
“I take it you want to bottom first then?”
“Yes I do! I think tomorrow will be a breeze for me if I get a good slamming tonight.”
“Well then we better get cleaned out,” Mitchell said as he got off of his knees and stood.
“I didn’t have room in my bag for a douche.”
“I brought mine. I will go rinse my ass out first. I’ll wash it with soap and water before I come back into the room. You can wash it with soap and water after you shut the door to make sure it’s as clean as you would like it to be,” Mitchell said.
“That will work,” I said as I stepped forward to kiss him. “If you don’t mind my using yours.”
Mitchell took the cue and bent down a little for our lips to meet. “I think it will be better for us both. No mess then. I brought massage oil, too. When I saw you expose your fluorescent green undies during your first meet, I prayed that you would win by a pin or technical fall so I could get my hands on your arms and shoulders.
“Okay,” Mitchell stepped back after we kissed again. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Take your time.”
“Turn on the sports channel so Hatfield doesn’t wonder why it’s so quiet in here.”
I walked over to open the curtains to let some light in. I wanted to see every inch of Mitchell’s nakedness. While the view outside the window wasn’t great, the sky was clear. It was obvious that it was a warm December day in Tampa.
Once I’d seen all I wanted to of the outside, I stepped over to the nightstand and grabbed the remote to turn on the TV. Once I found the sports channel, I rearranged the pillows to prop my back up while I watched and waited.
Of course I checked our wromocode group page on SpreadIt. The only post this afternoon was one from another nosey group member.
S/wromocode – 12/28/19 3:15 pm CST – u/justme
Surely you have met already and are at a hotel by now. What’s going on? Did you guys meet up? Did anyone else join you? What were your scores? Who’s doing who? Please. Someone. Throw me a bone since I can’t be there myself to taste either of yours. Please!
I couldn’t help but chuckle at the post. I wanted to yell something to Mitchell. He would have heard me too since there was, apparently, no fan in the bathroom. I could still hear everything that was going on in there even with the TV on. A moment later, I turned up the volume a bit more so he could have a little privacy. A short while later, he emerged naked with a smile on his face.
His lean and muscular frame was obvious to me from the moment I laid eyes on him at the arena. Seeing his sculpted chest and abs along with his bulbous shoulders and well defined arms got my blood flowing for sure. God, I love wrestlers.
“Your turn,” Mitchell said in a way that made me think he was actually saying, “My eyes are up here.”
“Oh my god,” I couldn’t help but say.
“You like?”
“I like.”
“Well then get your tiny little butt in there and get yourself ready. Bring the lube and massage oil with you when you’re done.”
“Anything for you,” I said as he stood and walked over to him. I wanted to touch his abs. I brought my palm to the warmth of his left obliques and ran my fingers slide across his abs as I passed by.
Twenty minutes later, I opened the bathroom door ready for action. But I wanted to tease him so was fully dressed.
“Are you staying?” Mitchell asked.
“Where else would I go?” I asked with a look on my face that asked why he’d say something so strange.
“You’re so dressed,” Mitchell said.
“I thought you might enjoy undressing me,” I smiled.
Mitchell got up from the lying position he was in on the bed and walked up to me. He put a hand on my cheek and leaned in for a kiss before he messed my hair a bit and then headed back to the bathroom.
“Oh. I forgot the lube,” I said before I sat down on the edge of the bed.
“And the massage oil,” Mitchell said with his dangling shower swaying from side to side as he walked. “Go make yourself comfortable,” he threw over his shoulder.
“Are you comfy?” Mitchell asked when he came back with the lube in one hand and the massage oil in the other and placed both on the nightstand.
“Very.”
“So can I ask you a question?” Mitchell asked as he walked to the windows probably so I could get a good look at his backside.
“Of course.”
“Am I the first guy you’re sleeping with? Ever?” Mitchell asked as he turned his head back to look at me.
“Oh no. Why do you ask?” I asked scanning Mitchell’s naked body as he stepped towards me to grab the massage oil off the nightstand.
“For a few reasons,” Mitchell said. “First off, I just wanted to know if I get to take your virginity or not. I wanted to have a sense escort bayan of whether or not you know what you’re doing and be able to handle your feelings tomorrow when you’re in your match.”
“What do you mean by handling my feelings during my match?” I asked as I sat up.
“Someone I messed around with recently was so ashamed of himself the next morning. He recovered, of course, and was horny several weeks later when he resurfaced and wanted to fuck again. That first time he came though, he was so mad at himself and embarrassed for letting himself have sex with another man.
“He told me later that he spent twenty years of Sundays hearing from the pulpit how being gay is a sin. As soon as he came he started worrying about going to hell.
“I also wasn’t wanting to see him go through that again the second time we hooked up. That time wasn’t as bad for him. By the fifth time, he was guilt free. So it took some time. And we don’t have much time between now and your match tomorrow. I just want you to be careful.”
“Ah I see. I haven’t had sex with a lot of men, but enough to know that I am indeed very gay. I have no guilt about it, either.”
“That’s good. See how thoughtful I am? We’re not even on the same team and here I am looking out for your match tomorrow.”
“Oh yes. You are very thoughtful. Thoughtful and hot as shit. I’ll be just fine. I wouldn’t have started the wromocode if I was just starting out with gay sex.”
“All right. With that all taken care of, I believe you have a five minute massage coming to you. Which body part do you want me to focus on?” Mitchell asked.
“Let’s do my upper back and lats. I had a hard workout on Thursday. I’m still sore from it.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Mitchell said. “Okay. Let me peel that t-shirt off your hot upper deck.” Mitchell walked up to the side of the bed and grabbed the bottom of my t-shirt after I sat up more. “You must have amazing genetics.”
“I’m very lucky,” I said. “It does take some effort though.”
“Oh I know,” Mitchell whispered before he leaned forward again and gave me another gentle kiss. “I’m tempted to keep your t-shirt as a souvenir.”
“I’ll take yours then. I’ll have to have something to wear back to my hotel.”
“You better wear it inside out. If my teammates see you, they’ll think I’m cavorting with the enemy,” Mitchell said while popping the lid of the massage oil. “Now lay down. Roll over onto your flat tummy and get comfy.”
“Do you want me to take my pants off?”
“If you want me to take them off, I can in a while. My hands are too greasy now with all this massage oil that needs a place to go.”
“I wish we could do this outside,” I said as I took a pillow from the head of the bed and raised myself to my knees. I plopped the pillow down towards the foot of the bed and put it under my chest so his upper body was propped up. “It’s so gorgeous out.”
“Yeah, doing this outside would be great. I think my teammates wouldn’t be comfortable with that though. Are you ready for me to climb on?”
“I am. I kinda wish I was naked already though. You look so hot and comfy at the same time,” I said as I looked back over my shoulder and watched him climb onto the bed.
He straddled me next. “Yeah, I wish you were naked already too. I could rest my cock on your ass crack while I give you your massage. You’ll be naked soon enough.
“Okay, get ready. I’m about to begin,” Mitchell said. “Take a few deep breaths and let yourself relax.”
“Okay,” I said as I began three lengthy inhales and exhales.
“That’s a good boy,” Mitchell whispered as he put his hands on my lower neck.
“There are no boys here,” I joshed breathlessly. “Just two one hundred percent all American men.”
“You got that right,” Mitchell said as he worked to spread the massage oil over my back. “Your traps are really tight.”
“Yeah, I’ve been told I carry a lot of my stress back there.”
“So are you from Omaha?”
“No. I’m from a small town an hour and twenty minutes south of Omaha called Fillson. I don’t miss it at all. It’s way too small of a town for me. I’ll never live there again.”
“Gotcha,” Mitchell said. “Were there any other gay guys in high school with you?”
“I have no idea. I’m not out to my team or even my family yet.”
“Ah. I see.”
“There’s probably at least one kid who’s also gay in high school. A band geek. I mean come on. He played the flute for fuck’s sake.”
“That is GGGAAAAYYYY.”
“I know, right? You can’t get much gayer than that. Unless he’s getting fucked while he plays the flute. That’s probably extreme level gay,” I laughed. “What about you and your high school boyfriend? What’s his name again?”
“Jordan,” Mitchell said as he used his thumbs to dig into my shoulder blades.
“That’s right. Down a little lower,” I requested. “And more to the left.”
“Sure thing,” Mitchell said as he altered the focal points of his thumbs.
“Do you still talk?” I asked before I shifted my weight up again, removed the pillow out from under me and then laid down with my arms stretched ahead.
“Oh yeah. We talk every day.”
“Every day?” I said as I lifted up a bit and looked back at Mitchell.
“Yeah. We’re still boyfriends.”
“You are?” That made me tense.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32