28 June, 2010
The rules were simple. Fuck the other guy and you get the job.
If there was one thing that XXXtream Studios prided themselves on, it was simplicity. Their audiences got what they wanted, and only the best would be hired. There was no second guessing and no second place. Their unofficial motto was “You want it? You got it.”
Unlike most other porno studios, XXXtream encouraged their fans to write in with fantasies and ideas. No kink was forbidden. If a thread could be identified from their viewers’ feedback, they’d meet that demand. Six months ago, the kink du jour was tickling. Before that, it was scat. But right now, loser-gets-fucked wrestling was the hottest fad.
The boss man sat in his director’s chair, sipping his steaming brew. He was a coffee addict, and it was a rare instance to see him without a double shot latte in hand; hence the pseudonym he used in his professional career, Stim U Latte.
Stim watched the two buff men enter the ring. Today’s match would be filmed, although only one of them would go on to star in his next loser-gets-fucked wrestling film, Rosebud Rassling. The audition might get released in its own right eventually, if it turned out good enough. God knows the talent was getting paid enough just in case.
Stim eyeballed the glistening pecs of both his players. He never ceased to be amazed by how many straight men would go gay for pay. Both these muscle-bound studs purported to be straight, yet here they were, ready to be fucked if they lost the fight. Was it ego or denial? It didn’t matter. Either way, he’d like to use both of them, personally and professionally. But sadly, only one could go on to feature in his film.
“Remember,” Stim instructed loudly, “you’re here to entice. I want to see flexing, dirty talk, and lots of sensuality. If you get pinned, I want to see you squirm before you break free. I want to see bodies taunting each other with raw flesh and masculinity. I want to hear your grunts and feel your hard on. I want to salivate as you force yourself onto each other. And when it’s over and done with, I want more cum exploding in my face than a 3D Imax feature!”
The boys smirked at that and begun circling each other in the ring. Brock’s sculptured physique looked lean and strong in his skimpy Speedos. His package was already visible in anticipation of dominating his opponent. But whereas Brock was like an imposing monument, Drake’s rock solid build was like an impenetrable boulder. He rolled his shoulders and stared down his pretty-boy competitor, confident in his own prowess to master the skinny runt before him.
Drake extended his hands, and Brock clasp them without hesitation. A power vice would prove who was strongest, settling the first point immediately. They stepped into each other until their chests slammed together and with a grunt their biceps bulged.
Their eyes locked in a challenge of their own as they strained to force the other one back. Through gritted teeth, Drake managed a smile and suddenly planted a quick kiss on Brock’s lips. Brock yanked back instinctively and Drake forced their arms down, twisting Brock’s behind his back and locking him into a bear hug.
Drake roared with triumph and lifted Brock off the ground. Brock cried out and locked his legs around Drake’s waist, easing the pressure building in his shoulders. He squeezed hard, muscular thighs crushing Drake’s ribs just as Drake crushed him. Drake gasped loudly and released Brock, but as Brock fell backwards, he maintained the leg lock, pulling Drake down on top of him.
They hit the ground and Brock twisted at the waist, sliding Drake off him but keeping the firm leg grip. He grabbed Drake’s furthest wrist and pinned it above his bald head. Brock laid a few quick jabs in Drake’s stomach, causing the stud to cry out.
“Mmm…nice,” Brock said, attempting a bit of lame dialogue as he ran his palm roughly over Drake’s exposed torso. He bent over and playfully bit Drake’s nipple, enjoying the yelp it elicited.
Drake reached between them with his free hand and grabbed Brock by the throat, squeezing hard. Brock gagged, pulling against Drake’s grip. He loosened the leg lock and as Drake tried sliding out from between his thighs, he twisted himself up, straddling Drake’s waist.
Still unable to break free from the choke, Brock punched Drake’s stomach, them clasped a hand over Drake’s nose and mouth, cutting of his opponents oxygen supply too. Drake reacted by squeezing tighter against Brock’s throat and reaching up to grab Brock’s hair. He clasp the short dark strands firmly and pulled Brock off him.
The duo separated, rising to their feet.
“Next time we’re down, your arse is mine!” Drake growled. They lunged at each other like two bears on heat and Brock caught Drake’s arm, twisting it hard. Drake yelled and fell to a knee, the arm lock sending a blinding pain shooting through him.
“You were saying?” Brock grinned, twisting the arm harder. Drake slapped against his own shoulder trying to ease the shooting pain to no avail. To add insult to injury, Brock stepped over Drake’s shoulder so the arm was placed between Brock’s legs now.
“Kiss my arse,” Brock teased, thrusting his butt against Drake’s cheek. “Kiss it and I’ll let you free.”
“Fuck you!” Drake gasped and reached through Brock’s legs to grab his balls. Brock screamed in shock, releasing the arm bar and clutching at the fingers around his groin. Drake rose to his feet and lifted Brock off the ground, slamming him to the mat. He lifted his stunned opponent off the flor and dropped him again, this time face up over a knee.
Brock whimpered as Drake bounced his lower back over the knee, holding Brock in place with one arm on his throat and the other on his cock. He released Brock’s hardening dick from the Speedos and began massaging it in long, rhythmic strokes.
Brock panted, his arms flailing above his head, surprised at how fast he’d gone hard. Drake’s firm smooth grip left him open mouthed, wide eyed and helpless.
Not forgetting his goal though, Drake added a few extra painful bounces of his knee before letting Brock drop face down on the mat. He yanked Brock’s Speedo’s off and slapped the smooth butt cheeks, leaving a tantalising red hand mark. He lay down between Brock’s legs and buried his face in Brock’s arse cheeks, nuzzling it with some satisfying murmurs.
Brock moaned and raised his arse to accept the thrill, overcome by the tantalising jolts that echoed through him each time Drake’s tongue inserted itself in him. If Drake had kept going, Brock would be lost, but the giant finally stopped and sat back. Brock rolled over, weak from the experience and Drake dropped on his chest, pinning Brock’s arms with his knees. He forced Brock’s head into his crotch, ordering “Take it!” as he suffocated the fallen muscleman. Brock mumbled in a pathetic protest as his lips wrapped around Drake’s covered cock.
Drake released his member from the Speedos, letting it spring into the air in all its thick, throbbing glory. He directed Brock’s mouth to it and as Brock resisted, Drake tightened his grip on Brock’s hair. He flexed a bicep and hooted: “Who’s the man?!”
“I am!” Brock gasped, spitting Drake’s cock from his mouth. He kicked up a knee, hitting Drake square in the back. The move barely budged the powerful beast, but it was enough for Brock to gain leverage, powering his massive arms upwards enough to break one free. He fisted Drake in the gut before powering his other hand free by toppling Drake off him.
Spitting precum from his mouth, Brock leapt to his feet in sync with Drake, vowing: “You pay for that!” He charged forward, ramming Drake back into the corner of the ring. Drake grunted as he hit the padded corner pole only to be greeted by a barrage of blows to his gut from Brock’s knees.
Brock twisted Drake’s arms through the ropes, entangling them so Drake was tied in place. He landed a few more knees in Drake’s stomach before battering him with fast, short jabs. Drake’s knees buckled and Brock lifted him from the waist, pulling Drake’s Speedo’s off. They were both naked now, but only one of them was free.
As Drake struggled to his feet, Brock covered Drake’s nose and mouth with the palm of his hand again and forced Drake to arch back over the pole. Drake thrashed about struggling, but Brock added to the insult by clawing his pecs and stomach before grabbing Drake by the balls. Drake’s eyes widened and as Brock let him breathe again, he began to squeeze tighter down below.
Drake roared and kicked out, sending Brock reeling backward from a lucky blow. The winning muscleman shook his head clear as Drake struggled with the ropes, breaking one arm free. He reached over to free his other arm but Brock was suddenly on top of him again.
Pushing him into the ropes, Brock attacked Drake from behind. He bent Drake over the boundary and once again entangled Drake’s free arm into the ropes.
Brock pressed his dancing cock into Drake’s solid buttocks now and began thrusting himself against the welcoming hole. Drake gasped, trying to get upright, but Brock pressed down firmly on his upper back, holding him bent over the top rope.
With both his hands tied, Drake was helpless to do anything. He heard Brock spit and suddenly a moist finger was lubricating his hole. He wailed in protest, clenching his butt cheeks but Brock had no trouble inserting his finger inside. Drake froze and gasped as sensation began to take over. Soon the finger would be replaced by Brock’s long, stiff dick. Drake was heavier, stronger and far more determined. He couldn’t believe he had lost the match.
“And stop!” Stim yelled. “That was beautiful. Very well fought, but honeys, we can’t see what you’re doing from over here. You have to work with the cameras! Stay right where you are. Jase, move camera one for a close up. Deirdre – be a love and get the boy a condom. Use it until you’re ready to cum and then rip it off so we can see you explode on his back! Got it?”
“Sure,” Brock said and he slapped Drake’s arse. He noticed the fallen dude was too embarrassed to look up, and that single sign of defeat made Brock eager to plough him harder than he’d planned.