GAY SEX STORY
"Nude Wrestling"

Iain hates losing, but then so do I. Competitive? You bet! Doesn’t matter if it’s tennis, handball, squash, or swimming, we battle like crazy, using any opportunity to intimidate each other. We’re not in our twenties, but we act as if we were.

I think Iain is straight – it’s hard to tell. We never talk about our personal lives, but I’ve been wondering. He’s certainly a powerful guy, thick-set, with muscular arms and legs, and a barrel chest. I’m lighter by twenty pounds, although I’ve been weight-lifting, trying to bulk up. So, I rely on my speed and agility. He uses his size and endurance.

We’ve been meeting at this men’s club for three months, on Tuesday and Friday evenings. And today, Tuesday, I’ve just beaten him at handball, three games to two. He’s pissed because he made some careless shots, and I took full advantage.

“Losing your edge?” I tease.

“Don’t you wish,” he counters as we head to the locker-room. “By the way, Kevin, I see the club is offering wrestling lessons, starting this Friday evening. Why don’t we try it?”

“With your size, you’d win every time.”

“Don’t be so sure. This is not the tv crap. It’s amateur wrestling – the real thing. And nimble guys like you do okay.”

“So, is it nude wrestling, like the Greeks?” I joke.

Iain grins. “I doubt it. But let’s go anyway.” He stops, looks at me, and adds, “Then, if you want to wrestle me naked, I’m game.”

Naked wrestling is a strangely exciting idea. I’m picturing the two of us, imagining various holds, thinking about what it would be like. Then, when we’re peeling off our sweaty gym clothes, I’m fascinated, again, by his smooth skin, his prominent nipples and nearly hairless body. And when he’s naked, his muscular ass is like a marble sculpture. The size of his cock startles me every time I see it. I’m well hung, but nothing compared with him.

“Don’t worry. It doesn’t bite,” he says.

To cover my awkwardness, I say, “Come on, old man, I’ll race you ten lengths.”

“Be prepared to lose,” he counters, and we head, naked, to the pool. Swim suits are optional at the club, and when we first met, Iain kidded me about wearing one.

True to his promise, he wins. After, in the showers, he’s gloating and jabbing me with his fist. “Losing your edge?” he jests. Then he grabs me from behind, using a half-Nelson and trapping my free arm with his. The feeling of his skin, with his cock pressed into my ass crack, is electric. “Still interested in nude wrestling?” he quips.

I’m getting an erection, but I don’t care. And when he finally releases me, I do a mock surrender, leaning back against the shower wall. “You don’t fight fair!” I whine.

He laughs. “You loved it,” he says and gives my cock a playful slap.

On Friday evening, there are six of us, plus the instructor, Gil, who has spread out mats in the room. He explains the rules and then shows us various manoeuvres – takedowns, reversals, and escapes. When we practice them, Gil watches each pair, corrects us, and gives us more tips.

By the end of the session, he has each pair wrestle for five minutes, while he referees. When our turn comes, Iain is hard to take down, but I manage a quick move and suddenly he’s on his back with my crotch in his face and his in mine. Then, just as suddenly, Iain rolls, and I’m on my back with my arm trapped between his thighs, with my shoulders pinned by the weight of his hips.

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