Route 69 S103: Charlotte NC (Part 1)

Route 69: Charlotte NC

KNOCK! KNOCK! I race across my ground floor hotel suite, excitedly looking through the peephole. Through the tiny portal, I see a handsome bearded muscleman waiting, looking Greek god-like framed by the window opposite my door.

I fling the door open without thinking. I’m excited, because he’s exactly as advertised – handsome, 6’, 240-lbs of rock solid muscle. Only when the door is open and I have a second to think does it hit me that's there's something familiar about this guy. In that second, my excitement turns to confusion then shock. I’m confused, because he looks familiar. Then I’m shocked because, even though it’s been six years, he has a beard, short hair and an additional 40-lbs of muscle, there’s no doubt.

“Hey Ben.” He says casually as he pushes past me into my hotel room, walks to the window and drops his gym bag, leaving me standing there dumbfounded. I close the door, staring at him in shock.

“Mike.” I say it softly, not as a greeting, but as a confirmation.

I can’t believe it’s really Mike. What the fuck is going on?

The Trip to Charlotte

I rolled into town earlier this afternoon, uncomfortably hot and sweaty. It took me just over six painful hours in the oppressive summer heat and humidity. My affection for my vintage 1958 Corvette convertible outweighed my common sense. Before I left, my best friend Jeff and buddies Eddie and Terrence both tried to convince me to rent something air conditioned, but anywhere I go, this car goes with me.

I’ve made the long trek from Arlington County, Virginia to Charlotte, North Carolina in order to scope out the final location for an upcoming Champion League of American Wrestling show. A month ago, Jeff joined the CLAW roster and I accepted the responsibility for CLAW's marketing. It’s a charity event featuring guys from four different federations to raise money for a popular indie pro wrestler who was in an accident.

This show in Charlotte will be the first time CLAW has participated with other federations and our first show outside of the DC area. If it comes off successfully, it’ll be an announcement to the world that we’re for real. It’ll help with recruiting, attendance and PR. If it fails, it’ll be a serious set back for my credibility with Derek Kaine, the owner and bankroll for the burgeoning federation. While I’m not really getting paid, I am using this as a training opportunity. Jeff and I hit the road so I could find my passion. This just might be it.

Working every waking minute, I've already transformed the small organization, giving it a professional online presence that features profiles and match videos showing off the best we have to offer. I’m managing new Twitter, Instagram, YouTube and Facebook accounts, touting our wrestlers, posting pics and videos, and mouthing off on the sad state of pro wrestling, championing the old school approach. I try to be a little provocative without going too far, using Derek’s POV as my guidepost.

I've also started on the PR, already earning some great online buzz by pitching interviews and stories with Derek, an 80's wrestling phenom who was part of a long legacy of stars. Wrestling bloggers jumped at the news that he's running a school and federation. I've also secured a few stories around his good looking and talented son, Mitch Kaine, who's following in the family business, even to the point of wrestling barefoot like his father.

Over Derek's initial hesitation (this is one of those places where his level of trust in me makes a big difference), I've even got the gay wrestling community engaged. I gave the blogosphere exclusive pics of some of our hotter guys. I've partnered with my friends at The Cave, a gay wrestling video distribution company as their non-porn partner. We stay separate with only tangential links, but they're distributing exclusive match videos through downloads and DVDs for a generous cut. Not a ton of revenue, but it gets us out there with product and we're way too small to do it ourselves.

All of this activity has led me here. A local promoter saw the news, reached out and asked CLAW to consider participating in the event. We won't make money, but what we need is visibility.

I don't meet the promoter until tomorrow morning, so I set up a hot wrestling match with a local stud for tonight. When I checked into the hotel, I immediately tore the room apart, moving the mattresses into place, adjusting the temperature and making sure I had water and beer chilling in the bathroom sink. I showered and relaxed in the cool comfort of my spacious accommodations, stretching out my 6’/205-lbs gym-built body.

I only started talking with this guy yesterday, but in 24-hours, I was able to check him out pretty well. He’s wrestled a ton and comes highly recommended. I saw his body pics and he said all the right things. Mutual opponents told me he was handsome, so I wasn’t worried about not getting face pics. I wasn't worried that he was hiding something.

Until now.

Until I see Mike standing here, his athletic shorts drooping to reveal a blue speedo as he is nonchalantly peeling off his mauve polo shirt like we’re actually going to wrestle.

I still can’t believe that Mike is actually standing in my hotel room.

Mike. My hero, once upon a time. My first boyfriend. My third boyfriend. The man who broke my heart. Twice in one year. I haven’t seen him in six years, since we were 19 years old. In spite of the years, I’m immediately taken back to the day we met.

Meeting Mike

It was just over seven years ago, but I remember it like it was yesterday. I was 18 and it was the end of senior year on an unseasonably warm May day. The year had been difficult for me, as it was the first where I was officially out. Jeff was supportive, but it was difficult for some of our other friends, especially the other guys on the wrestling team. I never got bullied, but I definitely noticed the change.

Anyway, the day I met Mike, I was out jogging through the woods near my house. The sun was strong, so I wore only shorts and sneakers, letting the spring sun bake my olive skin. The music from the player strapped to my arm was blaring, helping me keep a good pace. Meanwhile, these five guys from school (Tyler, Curt, Kyle, Aaron and Zach) were chilling, drinking by the lake. They saw me before I saw them and charged out onto the path. Suddenly, the five of them were there, blocking my way. I stopped short, but they quickly surrounded me.

Curt slurred, "Where do you think you’re going?" I immediately knew that they were drunk and looking to cause trouble. I tried to move on, but it was no use.

Tyler pushed my shoulder, laughing, “Yeah, where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

I tried to hide my fear by talking tough. “Fuck off, Tyler. Just leave me alone.”

Tyler immediately took a swing, slamming his fist into my lean stomach. He didn’t hold anything back. I ended up doubled over, but as they were laughing, I dove forward. I grabbed Tyler’s leg and took him down with a single leg takedown. We crashed down hard on the grass, knocking the wind out of him. I drew back to punch him, but my wrist was grabbed. Aaron and Kyle pulled me off him, while Curt, slugged me in the gut three times.

I struggled, but it was no use. My muscles were no match for the three of them. Aaron and Kyle held me tightly as Curt punished my abs. When I went limp in their grasp, they all started laughing at me. Curt slapped my face, taunting me as he told me that he was going to fuck me up. I quickly lifted my foot and kicked Curt in the gut. He stumbled back, but by then, Tyler was up and Zach came to join in. Suddenly, I was staring three angry punks in the face while being held tight by another two.

I was seriously scared. I braced myself for a beating, trying to figure out how to escape. That’s when I heard Mike for the first time.

“Leave him alone, assholes.”

We all looked over. I was floored, as Mike looked amazing. Calmly standing there in the pavilion, looking like he could take on the world. The guy moved confidently right in the middle of the five of them, standing beside me. He again ordered them to leave me alone. My hero.

I would’ve been glad to see anyone, but the fact that he was brave, confident and gorgeous meant it was love at first sight. Mike's skin was bronze, his dark hair long and curly, his muscular body toned and glistening with sweat. He only wore a pair of white shorts, sneakers and a piece of leather around his neck, but he looked every bit the superhero to me.

I guess Mike didn't look as much like a superhero to the five drunk 18-year olds who attacked me, because instead of backing off, Tyler, Zach and Curt jumped him. They surrounded Mike, six fists pummeling his body. I was forced to watch as they pounded his tanned flesh, slamming his abs, back and pecs.

Somehow, Mike took the punches. He managed to throw a few of his own, able to fight back. CRACK! A fist slammed across his chin and he went weak in the knees, but then he lashed out with a right of his own, leveling Curt. WHACK! Tyler grabbed him from behind around the neck, giving Zach the opportunity to pound Mike’s abs at will. THUD! THUD! THUD! I winced as again, my defender was getting beaten.

Mike summoned the energy to kick out, slamming his shoe into Zach. He grabbed Tyler’s arm and bent down, flipping the bully over onto the grass. Mike stood up and turned to Aaron and Kyle, pointing at them. Before he could get a word out, Curt jumped on top of him, driving him to one knee. OOF! Mike fought back, but Tyler and Zach were rising, too.

The odds didn't look good. As soon as Mike dispatched one guy, the other two were on him again. It was a teenage muscle melee and Mike and I were on the wrong side. Tyler locked Mike into a full nelson and once again, his body became a punching bag. POW! POW! POW! Mike did a great job kicking Curt and Zach away, but it would never last.

As Mike was fighting three guys, my adrenaline started racing and I broke out of my daze. I needed to help. This was about more than me now, it was about us. This guy I didn't know had stepped into the line of danger for me. I wasn't going to stand there like the damsel in distress while he got the shit kicked out of him. Five on two are slightly better odds than three on one, right?

Aaron and Kyle were as entranced as I was. I used the distraction to tear my arms free. I spun around, clocking Aaron with my forearm. He collapsed to the ground, the glass-jawed wimp. Kyle grabbed me from behind in a reverse bearhug, but I slammed my elbow back into his head. He let go and stepped back, clutching his temple. When I turned, I slugged him in his gut, my fist sinking deep into his stomach. He dropped to his knees, heaving like he was going to puke. That’s when I realized that these guys looked tough, but we could take them.

Before I could move to help Mike, Aaron was back up on me. He slugged me from behind, first in the kidneys then in the back of the head. I turned to fight him, managing to deflect another punch. Kyle got up and grabbed me around my shoulders, pinning my arms to my side. Aaron fired fists into my abs. POW! POW! Fuck, that hurt. I kicked out, but Aaron just laughed and dodged. He peppered my body with more fast, short punches. They didn't have that much behind them, but the amount was breaking me down.

Kyle was surprisingly strong. I couldn't break out of the hug, so instead, I slid my left foot behind his then pushed back with my right foot and my body. He couldn't adjust, so we toppled back onto the grass. Even though I was only 150-lbs back then, it was enough to wind him. Kyle lost the nelson, leaving me to go at his buddy. I scrambled forward, diving right into the stomach of a charging Aaron. I quickly lifted, turned and slammed Aaron down into the ground, the impact driving all the air and fight from him. Now it was my turn to fire away with some body shots.

Kyle tried to grab me from behind again, but I ducked down, pressing my body on top of Aaron’s. As Kyle sailed over me, I grabbed his leg and tripped him face first into the grass. I dove off the winded Aaron and onto Kyle’s back. I grabbed him around the waist then forced him to his feet. In one quick lift, I flipped him over, suplexing him on top of his ailing friend.

After I drove him down on top of Aaron. I locked Kyle up in a front facelock as I held him down. With 300-lbs of teen muscle fighting on his body. Aaron coughed, “Get off me!” as Kyle and I wrestled on top of him. I fired some body shots that connected with both of them. Aaron flailed wildly, doing more damage to Kyle than to me. I tightened my grip and almost put Kyle out.

As I dominated the two studs under me, I suddenly remembered Mike, I let go and pushed off, rising to a standing position. I raised my fists, but the two punks stayed on the ground. Aaron was coughing and swearing, pinned by the groggy Kyle.

With neither guy making a move to rise, I turned to the rest of the action. Surprisingly, Mike seemed to be handling Tyler, Curt and Zach. His body was covered in dirt, but my hero was smiling as the three punks fell over themselves trying to get at him. Fists were flying, but only the ones from Mike were connecting. I raced in, tackling Tyler to the ground again. This time there was no one to stop me from firing a fist across his cheek. CRACK!

Tyler and I wrestled for top on the ground, rolling across the grass. I managed to mount him and started firing body shots as he suddenly turned submissive. He begged me to stop. I paused, unsure if he was pulling something. Behind me, I heard swearing then the call for a retreat from Curt.

The defeated Tyler scrambled out from under me, pushing off and staggering back to his buddies. I turned to see Aaron running in the other direction, dragging a stumbling Kyle along with him. Instinctively, I moved to chase them, but Mike grabbed my arm, keeping me from doing anything stupid.

“It’s cool, dude. We won.”

I relaxed, but my heart was still racing. I looked at my savior. Mike was wearing a ridiculously charming smile, in spite of being covered in mud, his shorts torn and his body sporting a few bruises that only made him sexier.

Mike asked if I was okay. I asked him the same question. When I kept thanking him, he got uncomfortable and actually told me off, saying that I should be more careful or learn to defend myself. I was tired, angry and in no mood for shit, even from my rescuer. We had a huge argument about his attitude, which led to him grabbing me and kissing me. As soon as his lips touched mine, I melted in his arms. That whole bit about not being a damsel in distress? Fuck that, I became weak and submissive just like any chick in a cheesy romantic flick.

Mike took me into the secluded pavilion where he fucked me. That’s right, at 18, I lost my virginity right there in a public park. In hindsight, I’m thankful that no one came along. I’m thankful Mike had condoms in his backpack, saving me from making a huge mistake. And I’m especially thankful that he went slow and gentle. I won’t say it wasn’t painful, taking a cock the size of his (it's huge) as my first, but he did take his time and really taught me how to handle his big dick.

Jeff was off working construction with his dad in Louisiana for the summer, so Mike and I actually spent much of the next three months together, hanging out at my family’s secluded lake cabin. As you can imagine, with two hot 18-year old guys alone in that setting, it was pure hedonism. We drank, fucked, wrestled, fucked, fished, fucked, swam and fucked.

I was in love the minute I saw him. When summer ended, I was in so deep, it was ridiculous. I planning my life with Mike. Look, I was young and he was my first. Then I went to college and he went to a different one hundreds of miles away.

I never heard from Mike for seven months. Seriously. No text, e-mail, phone call, poke or anything else. Just silence. I sort of moved on, but it was hard as I wondered what I'd done. I even thought about leaving my college and transferring, figuring it was the long distance thing.

When Mike re-appeared at spring break, I took him back. Like an idiot. I fell back in love immediately. I was happy then he did it again at the end of summer. Dumped me without a word or explanation. After that, I was done. He's reached out over the years, but I've never responded to any of it. I swore I would never see him again.

Except now he's here, in my hotel room.

To be continued ...