“Get changed,” Mr. Anderson said. Anderson immediately began to undress. Apparently their mat room didn’t include locker rooms—although, I thought as I peeled off my shirt, why should it?
No one said anything as Anderson and I stripped to the skin and then pulled on our jocks and singlets. What was there to say? Meanwhile Mr Anderson dropped his jeans sat down in his tighty whities and peeled off his socks. I guess he assumed since the dads didnt have singlets theyd go at it when in was their turn in their briefs. Dad followed suit but took the opportunity to stretch out the waistband, reach in the pouch and fluff and adjust his nuts. I really dont think theres too many other men that could outmatch my dads junk and i think he wanted to throw it in Mr Andersons face who the obviously bigger man was.
One Anderson finished lacing up his shoes he stepped on the mat and walked to the far corner, then turned and looked at me expectantly. I didn’t keep him waiting long
Dad stood over him, waiting for him to get up and continue the fight…but the seconds ticked by, and Mr. Anderson made no move to get back to his feet, even though we could all see that he was still conscious.
“You had enough?” His voice was harsh and raspy from all the yelling he’d been doing.
Mr. Anderson didn’t answer.
Dad kicked him, hard, in the side, and Mr. Anderson yelped in pain. “I said,” Dad demanded, “YOU HAD ENOUGH?”
Mr. Anderson didn’t say anything, but all three of us could see him slowly nod his head in assent.
Next to me, I could hear Anderson gasp.
All thoughts of Dad and Mr. Anderson went out of my head. I turned to look at Anderson. His face had gone completely white, and he was staring at them with a look of complete horror in his eyes.
I grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him toward me. “We had a bet, remember?” I snarled. His mouth was working, but no sound was coming out. I smiled. It was not a nice smile.
With my free hand, I punched him right in the gut. He doubled over, gasping, and I shoved down on his neck, forcing him down to his knees. I let go of him while I undid the straps of my singlet, then pulled it and my sweat- and pre-cum-soaked jock down.
I was rock hard, and when Anderson saw how long and thick my dick was, his eyes got even wider in horror. “Open wide, asshole,” I growled, and then I shoved myself into his mouth. “And if you bite it, I’ll knock your fucking teeth out!”
He didn’t bite it. But then again, probably because I didn’t last all that long. It was no more than a minute before I came, squirting out my juice with my dick still in his mouth. Anderson started gagging and trying to spit it out, while Dad and Mr. Anderson watched, Dad smirking, Mr. Anderson in horror.
I pulled out and watched Anderson writhing on the mat, beaten and completely humiliated. Dad collected his clothes and mine, and said, “We’ll let ourselves out. And if you two ever want a rematch, you know where to find us.”
Neither father nor son answered him as we got dressed and took ourselves up the stairs. Not even as we let ourselves out did they speak a word.
Hey man, absolutely loved the story. My only request for the next one would be to condense it more so there are less individual installments and the ones you post are longer. It would make it easier to ingest. You've got the gift though.
eaturwheaties (12)
23/10/2023 18:40Holy F.. this was awesome... the concept hits dead center to my fantasies that started as a kid
eaturwheaties (12)
23/10/2023 20:14(em resposta à...)
“Get changed,” Mr. Anderson said. Anderson immediately began to undress. Apparently their mat room didn’t include locker rooms—although, I thought as I peeled off my shirt, why should it?
No one said anything as Anderson and I stripped to the skin and then pulled on our jocks and singlets. What was there to say? Meanwhile Mr Anderson dropped his jeans sat down in his tighty whities and peeled off his socks. I guess he assumed since the dads didnt have singlets theyd go at it when in was their turn in their briefs. Dad followed suit but took the opportunity to stretch out the waistband, reach in the pouch and fluff and adjust his nuts. I really dont think theres too many other men that could outmatch my dads junk and i think he wanted to throw it in Mr Andersons face who the obviously bigger man was.
One Anderson finished lacing up his shoes he stepped on the mat and walked to the far corner, then turned and looked at me expectantly. I didn’t keep him waiting long
brooklinewrestle (0)
26/7/2014 15:15Any way I can see the whole story at once
JiminQueens2 (51)
29/7/2014 19:10(em resposta à...)
Just copying and pasting it into Word, unfortunately.
Fullnelson (3)
02/7/2014 15:31Awesome story. Well written and easy to visualise the match. Look forward to more of your work
dadwrestle (337)
30/6/2014 18:55Absolutely great story, well written, THANKS!!
Jedi (38)
29/6/2014 05:45Fantastic series of stories; I'm hoping for an epilogue!
JiminQueens2 (51)
29/6/2014 00:13Dad stood over him, waiting for him to get up and continue the fight…but the seconds ticked by, and Mr. Anderson made no move to get back to his feet, even though we could all see that he was still conscious.
“You had enough?” His voice was harsh and raspy from all the yelling he’d been doing.
Mr. Anderson didn’t answer.
Dad kicked him, hard, in the side, and Mr. Anderson yelped in pain. “I said,” Dad demanded, “YOU HAD ENOUGH?”
Mr. Anderson didn’t say anything, but all three of us could see him slowly nod his head in assent.
Next to me, I could hear Anderson gasp.
All thoughts of Dad and Mr. Anderson went out of my head. I turned to look at Anderson. His face had gone completely white, and he was staring at them with a look of complete horror in his eyes.
I grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him toward me. “We had a bet, remember?” I snarled. His mouth was working, but no sound was coming out. I smiled. It was not a nice smile.
With my free hand, I punched him right in the gut. He doubled over, gasping, and I shoved down on his neck, forcing him down to his knees. I let go of him while I undid the straps of my singlet, then pulled it and my sweat- and pre-cum-soaked jock down.
I was rock hard, and when Anderson saw how long and thick my dick was, his eyes got even wider in horror. “Open wide, asshole,” I growled, and then I shoved myself into his mouth. “And if you bite it, I’ll knock your fucking teeth out!”
He didn’t bite it. But then again, probably because I didn’t last all that long. It was no more than a minute before I came, squirting out my juice with my dick still in his mouth. Anderson started gagging and trying to spit it out, while Dad and Mr. Anderson watched, Dad smirking, Mr. Anderson in horror.
I pulled out and watched Anderson writhing on the mat, beaten and completely humiliated. Dad collected his clothes and mine, and said, “We’ll let ourselves out. And if you two ever want a rematch, you know where to find us.”
Neither father nor son answered him as we got dressed and took ourselves up the stairs. Not even as we let ourselves out did they speak a word.
bigchicago (68)
11/7/2014 00:18(em resposta à...)
Hey man, absolutely loved the story. My only request for the next one would be to condense it more so there are less individual installments and the ones you post are longer. It would make it easier to ingest. You've got the gift though.
JiminQueens2 (51)
14/7/2014 21:06(em resposta à...)
Thanks, guy! Yeah, twelve parts are a little much...