ChrisWrestling's blog

Ok, this blog is a bit overdue but I would like to give my thoughts on gear. First of all, it should be noted that I am a fetishist with deeply rooted opinions but hopefully this gives some people some good ideas of how they'd like to approach their wrestling wardrobe. I will exclude opinions on lutador hoods and wrestling shoes because hoods annoy me and I haven't experimented around with shoes/boots.

Singlets: First off singlets come in a few basic styles based on their cut, traditional high cut, FILA cut (which is lower in the neck and arm holes), and low cut which has the holes going down to the floating ribs (roughly). There are some fetish singlets which go all the way down to the hips and I don't recommend these for actually rolling because hands and feet are liable to get tangled in them and they could get torn or come off. I personally tend to prefer high cut for this reason.

The next thing I consider before buying a singlet is how the legs are finished. Some cheaper singlets like Rhino and the Asics unrestrained singlet use a silicone gripper elastic which will pull out hairs and stretch your skin. Matman and Brute use a rubber gripper elastic in most of their singlets which is more leg and hair friendly but will wear out over time. The elastic will still work but the rubber will wear away. Some singlets like the Asics snap down singlet, some collegiate, and other higher end singlets will have a nylon rib knit. I find this the most comfortable.

Singlets are commonly made from 4 different materials, nylon lycra being the most common followed by polyester lycra, nylon knit, and heavyweight nylon lycra. Regular nylon lycra is my favorite, it has more weight and is firmer than the polyester blend but not as restrictive as the nylon knit. I bought a nylon knit a couple years ago because I like the way it looks on your junk but I find that your balls are more likely to get banged while rolling, it doesn't move with you, and the arm and neck holes land in awkward parts of my body so I almost never wear it for rolling. I haven't ever bought a heavyweight nylon. So far I find the polyester blends to be a decent cheaper alternative to the nylon lycra singlets. There are other materials on the market such as neoprene, faux leather, rubberized lycra, cotton lycra and mesh. The mesh can be pretty good, I like my american jock mesh singlet and roll in it often enough and it holds up well enough. Neoprene, faux leather, and rubberized lycra are really for fetish only, they will not hold up with rolling.

You may be tempted to get a reversible singlet. Honestly, they fit and move like the nylon double knits and aren't that comfortable to roll in. I don't even wear mine around the house anymore.

If you're considering a printed singlet you want to go with one that is actually printed on the fabric, not silk screened. Silk screening will not hold up and will chip away over time. Printing on lycra is becoming more and more common so that is definitely a better way to go. Simpler printings will allow your body to shine through the singlet whereas busy prints will obscure your body.

When choosing a color for your singlet there are a few things to keep in mind. Bright colors like yellows and white will become transparent when you sweat. I'm not saying that's a good or bad thing, but if you don't want your butt crack or your pubes showing through you might want to go with a darker color. Matman makes their white singlet with the heavy weight lycra to prevent this. The Asics conquest singlet has this issue which is too bad because it is by far their most attractive singlet. That being said, how much do you want the character of the fabric to play with the look of your junk. A black singlet will hide moisture, and the outline of your junk and abs, and is by far the least revealing. Reds and light blues will show if you didn't get the last bit of urine off the tip of your dick before putting the singlet on. Bright oranges, yellows, whites, etc will show a lot of shadow so your body and junk will be the most visible in these colors.

Some of the fetish brands have some odd choices such as a genital pouch or poor seam choices. A pouch is asking for testicular torsion. When it comes to seams, and this is a big deal for me, you don't want a seam going right up the center front EVER for any kind of spandex clothing. These turn your balls into a camel toe or divert your junk down to one side or the other and never in an attractive way. Just don't do it! Some people like this cut because the seam also runs up the butt making the singlet go between the cheeks giving you a nicer ass. There are ways about getting that effect without destroying your junk in the process but this would call for a 3 paneled singlet instead of 2 which is probably the real reason they do it that way. It's not to highlight your butt, it's to make the singlet cheaper and that's not a good thing.

Moving on to compression tights and shirts. These are made from nylon lycra or polyester lycra. (I should note that lycra is the same thing as spandex or elastane in case you're reading labels and are looking confused) My main points on these are mostly redundant with what I said about singlets. Seams matter and most tights have the seam right up your junk, give those a pass. Instead look for one's with a gusset which moves the seams to either side of your junk, you'll be happier, I promise. When it comes to the waist, I prefer an elastic over a draw string. When I'm rolling I don't want the string to get out and get in my way. For shirts, I pay attention to the arm pits. If a shirt is tight and they put a seam in that goes around the shoulder you'll find that your arm pits get chaffed. Some brands do more of a baseball style shoulder and sleeve where you have 2 pieces of cloth, one that goes over the shoulder and one under. This puts the seam running the length of your side and arm so there is no seam scooping under your pits and your pits will thank you for that.

Vale tudo shorts. These really are more just compression shorts. They frequently have a place to put a cup and if you're playing with a rough partner this may be a good idea. Most wrestlers and BJJ guys are encouraged not to wear cups and the aren't allowed in competition. BTW, the only thing that makes NorthSouth position worse is a hard cup on your nose (it happened to me right after my nose was broken, it really sucked). I don't wear cups unless I'm kick boxing which basically translates to I never wear cups. They can shift while rolling and pinch your junk and that's not ok. Ok, I got off track, with vale tudo shorts you have a number of well respected brands which you can find at MMA Warehouse. I own two piranha brand vale tudo shorts. Their drawstrings are a bit long and their made in a way that my junk is pushed forward. I have yet to roll in them but I do feel like they may make you a little too exposed for safety. That being said, they're probably also designed for a cup. I have worn them several times when I wasn't rolling and they have a wonderful fit and I really do like them.

Speedos. I think we've all started in speedos for wrestling. I don't know how they became the go to for wrestling, maybe because pro wrestlers wear them. I like rolling in them sometimes because they certainly give you a good range of motion. They don't offer any protection from mat or carpet burns. I find because of their shape my balls are definitely getting crushed from time to time. Again, most older speedos were made from nylon lycra and polyester lycra is taking over. Nylon is more restrictive and tends to be tighter whereas polyester more or less molds to you. Because of this polyester offers less support and makes your junk look smaller. I don't tend to wear jammers for wrestling because they have less range of motion than regular compression shorts.

Jeans. I would never let jeans get anywhere close to my mats. Not only do they not offer any range of motion, they have metal rivets which can tear your mats. Don't wear them to the gym, don't wear them to wrestle. As for athletic pants, I find that limbs get caught in the material and that's no good. MMA shorts can be fine but I find some of the lighter and longer cuts can get caught on limbs. I have a weird off brand pair that appears to be a stiffer nylon and their a little snugger than my hyabusa shorts and they work way better. Some people do wetsuits from time to time, not only will these be too hot for any real wrestling to happen, they are expensive and won't hold up. Not to mention the huge zipper and zipper lanyard.

I was hoping this was going to be more fetish oriented but if nothing else I hope people find it helpful. I am always happy to share my thoughts on gear so feel free to ask.

I didn't think much of Marc when I first met him, he was a bit of an ass. He kept his hair long and parted which seemed to be the official hair style of soccer players. Some pulled it off but it gave Marc an air of arrogance. He was the kind of guy who needed everyone to know that he was the alpha in all things. One might think that he might have grown out of it by his Junior year in college, one might be wrong.
We had a couple classes together and he still sat in the back corner of the room in all of them, trying to be as insignificant to the teachers gaze as possible. We all knew he was coasting through school on an athletic scholarship. You didn't get shredded by reading text books, especially if you had to spend five nights a week on the field kicking a ball around. Here we are, middle of January and he's wearing his soccer shorts in the halls of the school; shorts short enough that his balls might fall out... he'd like that I'm sure.
He had a clan of meatheads who followed at his heels like a pack of puppies. These were the kinds of guys who would lift up a girls skirts as they passed by. There would be a barrage of chortles that got louder the more the poor girl protested.
I stood in the line in the cafeteria, pointing at my choices of boarderline food that I was about to pay too much for when I heard the soccer douche mob enter the cafeteria. I rolled my eyes but their clucky laughter was distracting me and my tray was becoming more and more loaded with mushier food like substances. Uncomfortably I paid for my food as the annoyed complaints from another unfortunate girl began to crescendo.
What came over me I can't tell you, I blacked a lot of what happened next from my memory. What I do remember is no longer having a lunch and Marc staring at me, dumbfounded, covered in a collection of goopy mock edibles.
Now, you would think that a dumb jocky meathead like Marc would be too stupid to show any restraint, if that were the case I would not be here to tell you this story. He looked at me with what almost appeared to be respect. I had played a risky card. If he had struck me down right there and then he would have been expelled for sure. The school board could look past sexual harassment as long as it didn't lead to {removed} but striking another student, that's a different story, even for their star soccer player.
The gang was silent as Marc swiped some goop from his shirt with his index finger. He licked his finger and smiled at me. "Tastes like karma may be coming your way, little man" he said looking into my eyes like a hungry snake. His smile widened briefly and disappeared as he turned back to the food counter.

The next week was torturous. That look, those words, he meant to have his revenge. He knew that by making me wait for it I would be tormented by the persistent fear of what he was planning. By the time the day came I was almost begging to have it over with. When he came, he came alone.
I left school around eight and walked through the quiet streets which were poorly lit. I had almost forgotten about Marc and was rather relaxed walking down the dark but familiar streets. It was a good little town and the stars and moon provided ample light even in the late winter.
My hands were tucked into my jacket pockets when an arm reached around me, grabbed the zipper of my coat and unzipped it half way. Next, my coat was pulled halfway down my arms, pinning them to my sides. My legs were kicked out from under me and I was dragged through the open door at the front of his apartment.
He looked down at me fiercely, "Don't make a sound."
It was so damn cold and there he was in nothing but his jersey and uncomfortably short shorts. His level dropped and soon his knee was on my gut, his face in my face, his hands... on my balls.
"Don't worry little guy, I'm only checking that your balls are as big as you seem to think they are." He squeezed them fairly hard and my face showed anger, not pain. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing that he was hurting me.
He picked me up with some ease, wrapped his arms around mine and started to squeeze. I didn't know what to make of what was happening to me or what I could do about it. My coat was still holding my arms uselessly to my side. I think I felt the pressure on my arms first. They felt suddenly tired like someone had tied a rubber band around them at the arm pit and the blood had stopped flowing a while ago. The tension my bones and joints was immense and I began to wonder if my shoulder would dislocate. My back cracked loudly at least eight times and the air was rushed from my lungs. I noticed another point of pressure, a smaller one. His penis had become hard and was now poking into my thigh. I couldn't believe it, Marc was getting sexually turned on by the idea of crushing me.
He took in a big breath, expanding his chest and then pulled his elbows back doubling the pressure on my ribs. My pride had lost, I couldn't hold in anymore, I cried out. I announced that the torture was working and gave him the satisfaction he had been looking for. His grip loosened till my feet found the floor and his hand migrated up to my head, holding it in place as he kissed me.
It didn't make any sense to me. Macho Marc, king of the quads, ruler of the meat heads kissed me. The super buff human meat sack was gay. All that harassing he was doing was a cover and for some reason he had chosen me to come out to.
The next moment I was on the ground and he was on top of me. I tried to buck him off but his feet were hooked behind my thighs and he stayed no matter how much I squirmed.
"You're ballsy, boy, I like that." He said with a toothy grin. "It's Jeremy, is it not?" He asked but gave no time to reply. "I've watched you for some time and I suspect you're someone else, someone I've been watching on Craigslist. If my intuition is right that bearhug was not all that horrible for you."
A look of shock registered on my face and he read me like a book. He never replied to my ads but I had posted some.
"I thought so. This is supposed to be your punishment so let me propose a game.... I'm going to see if you can take everything you suggested. If I'm right about you, then you're my new best friend, if I'm wrong, you'll know never to mess with me again."
Before I could speak he rolled me over so I was on top of him, trapped between his legs. He didn't snap them down on me, instead he ramped up the pressure and I moaned in discomfort. I could feel my penis start to get hard, every pulse a notable throb. He reached my pressure threshold in about 20 seconds and I thought he would just hold me there... he didn't. At 30 seconds I thought my ribs would break, at 40 my moan became a howl. The intensity stopped ramping at about a minute but he didn't grant me a second of mercy. He held it at that incredible pressure, his endurance was unbelievable.
Sweat began to bead on my forehead and he smiled up at me. In my insanity I smiled back. I couldn't help it, a long held fantasy of mine was being realized and he was more of a beast than I could have ever hoped for.
When his pressure finally released my ribs felt like they were going to explode. The springing back to their normal position was a startling experience. I was so in shock I didn't realize that I had been rolled to my back and now his legs were going across my abs. He straightened hard and fast and the pain was intense but not all that unpleasant.
"I've been playing soccer since I could walk. Even on days I don't practice, I lift, swim, and run so that when I find a little guy like you I can cut him in half with my powerful legs. Do you believe I could cut you in half little man?"
In a moment of pure insanity I cried out, "No!"
The power doubled. Maybe it tripled, there's no way to know for sure. It was like I was trapped under a car and suddenly a cow sat on it, or hell, an elephant. My legs began to feel hot and cold at the same time. For a moment I could feel my pulse in my gut but that feeling had faded. My breathing was shallow and labored and my panic was mixing with a high I can't describe. I thought about my toes, I think they went numb. His pressure varied but never went below miserable. Was my cock still hard? I couldn't say. I couldn't say if I was miserable or in heaven. It was the worst kind of awful.
Every second became an hour, perhaps real hours had passed, perhaps mere moments. I don't know, I was lost in my own world.
He repositioned onto my ribs and the clamp flattened me again, slower this time. My face flushed and my hands pitifully groped at his legs which felt like tight bundles of raw jute. Breathing was out of the question now. He kept on his murderous squeezefest. My useless attempts to push his legs off my chest became more like an elderly man swatting a fly in a dark room moments before dying from leukemia. A moment later the swatting stopped and was replaced by directionless twitching in my arms.
I have no idea how long I was out for but when I awoke he was wearing nothing but compression shorts and my neck was trapped between those horrifying thighs. My face was buried in his balls and he was precumming. He was more gentle on my neck but he gave me little bursts to remind me that he still had a lot of gas in the tank.
He squeezed a little. He squeezed a little more. He squeezed a lot and my eyes felt like they would pop in my head. That twitchy drunkness returned to my arms and my whole body shook in an electrical spasm and he would relax. Even when I regained control of my limbs I was too tired and high to use them. I didn't want out. I wanted to be buried in the brutal warmth of his legs for the rest of my existence.
After what seemed a millennia he rolled me off to the floor. He took my face and made me look into his eyes. "You belong to me now" he said sternly.
"Yes, I do" I replied.

I was hypnotized by them, they were the first thing I noticed about him, those marvelous legs which were much larger than they should have been. I always made sure to stretch when he was squatting or deadlifting because the mats were just across from where he was when his legs were at their finest. The addiction I felt inside my gut was unbearable and I was such a coward. There was no way I could ever strike up the nerve to say hi or anything else. I suppose that was a big part of why I always chose to stretch when he lifted, I was hoping he'd see me staring at him and then he'd come to me either to call me out or call me over.
It had been at least six months and I had gained a considerable amount of flexibility to say the least. There were certainly plenty of times where he must have noticed my trance and chose not to acknowledge it. I suspected that part of him was wholly exhibitionist and that he appreciated the audience.
The day I knew for certain was the day everything changed. I took my seat in the usual place and waited... and waited... my heart sank as I waited even more. He was in the gym, I knew because I passed him on the way to the lockers, he was talking to some friends. Maybe they held him up? Maybe he's working out with them? Had his schedule changed? Was the cycle of his routine finally broken?
No. No, he came and claimed his rack as always but my hearts drumming hadn't stopped, instead it thudded harder. He had fallen into the new trend that seemed to be taking over. He had ditched his usual gym shorts and tee shirt for a sleeveless spandex shirt and spandex tights. His package was on full display and more beautiful than I had imagined it. His legs were like a road leading to the promised land paved in black gold. There was no hiding my enchantment, no turning away, I was washed away in the fantasy of being between those legs, feeling those muscles, smelling that bulge. Was I even breathing? I was so lost there would be no way of ever knowing.
"Hey," a voice spoke from somewhere that seemed distant, turns out it came from right in front of me. "Dude, when were you planning on ending your gawking and actually coming over to speak to me?"
"Huh?" I said, coming out of my trance. Then it hit me. He'd walked over. He was standing right in front of me now and he was talking to me. What the fuck was I supposed to do now?
"It's been at least four months and every time I do a leg day you're right here to watch. So, are you going to say hi or what?"
"Um, hi." I said. Really? That was the best I could come up with? I'm acting like a kid in puberty noticing his first rack.
"You know, I've been watching you too. You're kind of funny over here with your endless stretching." He said and I wanted to say something smart back to him but it was like he had turned off the master control switch in my brain. He waited a minute and then said, "I'm going to go lift now, you can watch if you want but when I'm done I expect you to pay for the show with a coffee." And with that he walked away. I stayed there and didn't even bother to stretch. Instead I watched his legs work and noticed him smile at me occasionally.
I did as ordered and bought him a coffee afterward and we talked. His name was Alex and he jokingly said he suffered from bigorexia, a condition where a person obsesses about getting larger muscles and never recognize the progress they've already made no matter how big they get... and then I opened my stupid mouth.
"I usually think about it more functional." I said quietly.
He looked puzzled for a moment and then asked, "and what functions do you feel would prove my strength? Have you seen how much I lift?"
"Well, a lot of people can lift a fair amount..."
"So? Name your challenge and I will meet it."
I had nothing. He was right, strength is all about how much you can lift, how high you can jump, how much you can pull, I had not challenge to present him. Well, my brain didn't but my mouth just spat the dumbest thing I have ever said out without any cognitive approval. "I've seen videos where a guy can squeeze another guy out with just their legs on a person's body, I don't think it can be done."
"Ok," he said without hesitation. Ok, but seeing as it's your idea I insist that you take the pressure."
And then it struck me. I realized what I had proposed and before I could backtrack he had taken me up on the offer. What I didn't realize that the moment he first spoke to me I was getting strapped into the roller coaster and there was no getting off, not until the ride was over. Any illusion of control I had was gone hours ago and all I could do was hold on till the very end.
The next thing I knew we were at his place and stripped down, him in his tights, me in my compression shorts, fucker hadn't even showered and the smell of him made me shake all over as though someone was sucking on my nipple. His legs were closing around me when I first noticed how incredibly attractive his face was. How had I gone this long without noticing. He was downright cute and the kindness in his eyes calmed my nerves which had been ravaging my system. His smile went a little cruel and he straightened his legs making me cry out in surprise.
"A bit fast?" He asked but all I could reply with were heavy pants and shock. He squeezed again a little more slowly but he built up again to the same pressure that was a little more bearable but still harsh. His arm went around the back of my head as he pulled me down to him and then he whispered in my ear, "I've come to realize, you're never going to tell me what you want so I'm just going to squeeze you every way I can think of until you do."
He rolled me onto my back and straightened his legs across my abdomen. The way he lay he looked like a lounge singer on a grand piano flirting with the audience. I instinctively pushed on his top leg to relieve the pressure but he responded with a sharp, "Don't you dare!" which was accompanied by a sudden burst of pressure that he didn't let up. I could feel my pulse throbbing in my abdomen. I looked up to the plain white ceiling, mouth agape and tried to breathe but he seemed to be timing his pressure with my breaths. Part of me suspected that he was really going for it, that he really wanted to squeeze me out.
I doubted he had the endurance for it and I think he came to the same conclusion because he shifted his position so that he was behind me and then secured a body triangle around my midsection and clamped it so that his calf pinched into me. From there he played around with different things, flexing his quads, leaning forward, lifting the foot that was locked in behind his knee, pulling on his other ankle.
A moan leaked from my throat which he used as a cue to wrap his arm around my neck.
"That would be cheating." I said.
"Good point." He said but didn't release my neck. He pressured the back of my neck forward into the crook of his elbow for half a second as if he was making a point that he could end it at any moment and then he released the pressure but kept the hold.
I could feel my legs were beginning to get a little cold and numb, the throbbing pressure in my core from my blood trying to pass to my lower body. I don't even know when I got erect but the erection was now painfully hard.
When Alex felt well rested enough he rolled me back onto my back, this time placing his legs across my chest. It was like getting hit by a cannon ball, my lungs were suddenly emptied of air and my head filled with pressure like wrapping your finger from knuckle to tip with twine, pressure like something was going to pop. His endurance was very impressive.
Suddenly I began to convulse, my body hinging and twitching violently. Not knowing how to respond Alex loosened his grip.
"Don't!" I cried out in desperation and instinctively he returned his pressure harder than before. Part of me was afraid my ribs would break but they were silenced as an explosion of ejaculate projected from my ridiculously hard but somehow confused feeling dick.
When I started to come down from the unexpected orgasm Alex loosened his grip once more but I asked him to not let me go all the way, at least not yet. I nuzzled his crotch with my face, feeling the curvature of his rock hard legs with my hands and breathing in shuttering gusts. There was a wet line of pre-cum smeared across my forehead from his rock hard cock.
"Can we do this again sometime?" I begged.
He petted my hair and although I wasn't looking up I knew he smiled when he said, "Of course."

Before even stepping onto the mats, before entering the space, even before sitting down face to face with Josh he knew how this match would end. Sean was counting on it. His fixation had been eating at him for years. It sent him into periods of ecstasy and depression alike. There were long nights where he sat at his computer and put off sleep much longer than he should and paid for it the next day. On those nights he did countless searches on countless search engines, changing up his verbiage, trying to find what in it’s vast collections of information the internet did not have.
Scissors… squeeze… bearhug… bodyscissor… body scissor… “bodyscissors –female –women –she –her –girl –girls –mixed –boys”
When he was younger the porn companies did it for him, perhaps all too well. They filled his head with fantasies that he was finding as he got older would never be lived. As he aged his tastes became more… real. It couldn’t be fake. His old collections began to annoy him. The legs were large and powerful and the men would pretend to squeeze with them but they never really did and the more he watched it the more he could see it. Their knees flew apart and closed again but they didn’t compress the boy in the middle. He screamed, sure, but it was so forced, so faked that it was ridiculous.
Then he found the real grappling sites. There were even gay oriented ones. The action was better and some of the wrestlers would throw on a scissor here or there but it was always so short lived.
Fuck, where are all the videos of guys getting brutally crushed for twenty minutes or longer or till they passed out, all taps ignored, pure merciless squeezing. The thought took his breath away.
Of course, watching only scratched at the itch. The kink in his brain was much much deeper and could not be satiated on voyeurism alone. No, he had to feel it for himself!
That’s where the internet came in handy once again but as before it’s infinite reaches were far exaggerated. The first meetup the internet provided was a scrawny middle eastern twink who claimed to want a rough squeezing from him. Sean wanted to be the one squeezed but he also knew the deep longing and how much it tormented him. If he could provide this man some level of the satisfaction he so desperately craved he would give it to him and he would give it to him hard! But he didn’t. The boy lay between his legs and at the slightest flexing of his muscles the boy complained and coached him to do it softer. Softer? His legs barely moved, there was no squeeze being given. Sean left abruptly, not amused.
The internet’s other offerings were very hit and miss but mostly miss. Wrestling partners proved to be fun enough but most couldn’t keep up with him and even fewer used any squeeze holds at all.
There he was, 6’, 240lbs, not too old, pretty cut and handsome. Sean’s heart shuttered just looking at the photo of him. He even got Sean going at the coffee meet up. Something happened though. Down to just their swim briefs and on the mats the guy gathered Sean up and wrapped his legs around him. The flutter in his heart returned, his breathing became heavy and labored. This was going to be the real deal. The big squeeze was coming.
The man straightened his legs till they began to dig into Sean’s sides lightly. Anticipation overtook Sean and his eyes became wide with excitement and then the man said, “oh yeah, you’re feeling the squeeze now, you are so feeling it.”
“What the fuck is he talking about” Sean thought. The prefect guy was just like the porn stars, pretending to crush but not wanting to make it real. Was this really going to be it? It was. No amount of coaching or direction was able to get the guy to understand that Sean wanted to feel his real power; the jackass just changed the narrative and seemed puzzled by Sean’s frustration.
The posers, the narrators, the wimps and the endless stream of no shows flooded his e-mail and life but no one brought him anything real. Josh was going to be different though.
There was nothing particularly special about Josh. He had a nice body but his quads weren’t ivory pillars. He had be active his whole life and his tone showed that. Swimming was one of his primary interests and his lap count was off the charts. The boy had stamina. He was attractive as well and had voiced online that he’d had an interest in school to do wrestling but was too afraid that he’d get aroused and then everyone would know that he was gay and he could not have that. Attractive was not the right word, he was downright cute with his slightly wavy brown hair and deep, almost penetrating eyes and a thin, mischievous smile.
Josh was on his knees across from Sean, he had insisted on singlets as that was one of his fetishes. Josh’s was a royal blue which gave him an almost innocent look. Sean’s was black which he liked because it seemed more neutral and almost more modest with some of his more private lines being obscured in the darkness. Sean liked the way it felt on his sides, like a light spandex hug which primed his body for the squeeze to come.
“I don’t feel like rolling today” Josh said and Sean’s heart sank to the bottom of his bowels where it bled out in sorrow. “Is it ok if I just squeeze the shit out of you?” Josh said with a bluntness that took Sean off his guard.
“Fuck yes!” Sean said, realizing too late that he didn’t want to come across as desperate or too eager. It was too late, the words were said and he suddenly felt naked. Fear overtook him and the moment stretched on into eternity but then Josh broke the silence as if no time passed at all.
“Get over here.” He commanded. Sean was dumbfounded and mindlessly obeyed, crawling over not really knowing what to expect.
Josh’s legs were around him and before he knew what hit him he was on his back and Sean straightened them. The pressure was powerful but not as painful as Sean had imagined it, he could still breath but the grip on his core was very real. As Sean exhaled Josh turned onto his side a little, digging his knee into Sean’s diaphragm, forcing to release more air than he had anticipated. Pound by pound the pressure on his abdomen increased and breathing became even more difficult.
At that moment something strange had begin to happen. Something was fighting back. The massive artery in Sean’s gut was throbbing deep inside him, trying to force blood through and it had to be working because Sean’s cock was very full with blood. His legs started to feel warmer and his head filled with pressure and the only thing he could do was shut his eyes hard.
As his eyes closed he felt his body being moved till he was on his knees. The vice snapped shut suddenly and Sean’s eyes popped open to see Josh smiling up at him. His ribs bent and the pain was nothing short of magnificent. Once again, Josh surprised Sean by grabbing his head and pulling it down to his own. Josh kissed Sean, teasing him with another burst of leg power. Sean’s balls… or his taint, he wasn’t sure, were throbbing.
Josh’s legs shifted and Sean was forced deeper into his crotch. A face to face body triangle was locked on and all hope of getting out had vanished. Sean’s beautiful devil smiled up at him as if waiting for him to sign his soul away. “You have it, take my soul just please, for the love of fuck don’t stop!” Sean thought. Josh must have heard the thought because his grip became tighter and tighter till Sean’s breathing had become quite shallow. Josh was not done there. As Sean collapsed forward Josh wrapped his arms around his chest and added a bearhug to the triangle. Once again Sean’s eyes shut from all the pressure.
He was floating. Nebulous and shapeless. His body, having been mangled in the anaconda’s killer grip was below him being prepared to be swallowed up. He was filled with a level of peace he didn’t know even existed.
Josh’s grip once again changed, this time back to straight legs, still with his back on the mat but now he threw his arms over Sean’s shoulders and wrapped his arms around his own legs. In one brutal thrust he straightened his arms and legs at the same time. The shock brought Sean out of his haze as his ribs felt like they were about to detach from his spine.
“Don’t you dare leave me and go off into your dream world. I want you to feel every second of every squeeze till you pass the fuck out.” Josh said.
“Oh fuck yes, do it!” Sean begged.
He was rolled onto his back again but this time Josh had his legs positioned across Sean’s chest like a seatbelt and the squeeze was once again hard to bear. This time the victim was his lungs, full force. He felt every last bit of oxygen was forced out in an indignant choked moan. Josh was feeling around for Sean’s breaths. Every time Sean tried to take one Josh just forced it right back out. What little air sat inside him had become acidic and his lungs burned for something fresh but Josh wasn’t going to have it.
That strange warm sensation returned, this time floating into Sean’s arms and fingertips which he wasn’t sure were dry or sweaty, they felt like both. His head began to pound and his eyes threatened to pop and yet still the beast on his chest was pressuring him further and further into oblivion.
A tiredness Sean had never known before overtook him and every extremity, every toe and fingertip seemed to tingle as his head began to swim wildly. Every shallow breath he took felt like squatting a metric ton and did nothing for him. He no longer felt any real discomfort just the drunken blanket coming over him. Josh had seemed to leave the picture completely, it was just Sean and the pressure and in a moment, it was just the pressure and then nothing.
Sean’s head tingled and the first thing he knew was his hair being lovingly stroked back and then the disarming smile and almost penetrating eyes which he now recognized as brown looking deeply into his own. Josh kissed Sean again and bent down to whisper in his ear.
“I want to do that every day, will you let me?” Josh asked.