Route 69 S209: Rochester NY

"Hey, Brad, good to meet you."

"Ben! Good to meet you, finally. Get the fuck in here. Brrrr." Brad shivers then slams the door behind me.

I smile as I say, "You're cold? I'm shocked that loincloth doesn't keep you warm. Tarzan obviously never needed to be in Rochester in November."

Brad asks with a smirk, "You complaining? I can put on more clothes."

I hold up my hands, "Hell no! I'm all for you wearing as little as possible."

I'm practically pushed into his finished garage, immediately overwhelmed by the sweltering heat inside. Wow, it must be close to 80-degrees in here. There's a ring in the middle, with a couple of couches outside. But what really strikes me is the wallpaper! I quickly notice that every wall is a beautiful mural of a jungle landscape. Well, Brad did tell me that he's a nudist, exhibitionist and has a serious jungle man fetish.

Everyone's told me that I have to wrestle this guy while I'm here and I can see why. I take off my jacket, admiring the view as Brad turns to tighten the green ring ropes. With his rippling back muscles and the loincloth shifting to reveal most of his hard round bubble butt, he looks as good from the back as he does from the front. He's an awesome looking man. Powerful and oozing confident sexiness.

We're virtually identical stats, both 25, 6' and right around 200-lbs, but somehow he seems a little ... more solid, beefier. I can tell he's tough, his muscles built as much at his job as a mechanic here in Rochester as at the gym.

In spite of his fetish for Tarzan, he looks like a clean-cut All-American jock. While I've got olive skin from my Middle Eastern heritage and more pronounced features, Brad is classically handsome, with short dark-hair, square jaw, smooth white skin and rugged features.

While he gets us waters in the kitchen, I strip down and get into the gear Brad's laid out for me. When he comes back, I'm adjusting the loincloth, my first time wearing one. It actually feels good, my package and ass held tightly in the soft leather pouch, covered by the front and back flaps. The whole jungle thing isn't my scene, but I don't mind trying it out. I didn't think superheroes were my thing, but I had fun as the Kryptonite Kid a couple of months ago.

Brad says, "Hot. You were born to wear a loincloth, man." He moves in, sliding his hand under my back flap and copping a feel of my ass. As he admires my body in his soft leather gear, I let him, focusing on stretching out. We're both anxious to get going with this sex stakes match, so I don't waste any more time than I have to. Okay, I'm ready.

It's time to wrestle.

Ben vs. Brad

We circle around as two loincloth-clad jungle studs. I actually feel like I'm in a ring in a jungle. Brad raises his arms and opens his hands, challenging me to a test of strength. I accept, opening my hands to meet his. I cautiously lock my right hand with his left then repeat it on the other side. As soon as our hands close, we're banging chests, our arms struggling for control. UNH! UNH!

We're both grunting like crazy, fighting for any advantage we can get. Brad's moving his arms and hands, trying to get in a better position. I'm countering then launching my own moves. Our cheeks touch as we lean into one another. Neither of us have given an inch, but the battle is taking its toll.

After a minute, Brad manages to raise higher and force my hands back. I groan and try to burst up, but he presses his superior position, driving me lower and lower. My arms, shoulders and back pump with all the power I can muster, but it's not enough. I'm driven down to one knee. Brad moves in close, my face hitting his loincloth bulge. I'm hit by the combination of leather and musk, but I keep focused.

I make a sudden switch, using the momentum to bring my hands around his ample ass. I lift up, bringing Brad onto my shoulder and flipping him over me. Our hands part and Brad lands on his back. THUD! He deftly rolls to his feet then turns right into my charging tackle. OOF! I bring him down to the mat. Brad throws me off him and he rises to a crouch, staring me down.

We rise to our feet, already breathing hard and slightly sweaty. This time, we lock up in a collar-and-elbow. I pull Brad into my rising knee, slamming it into his gut. I force him to the corner then whip him across the ring. He turns and slams into the opposite corner. CLANG! Brad bounces of right into my waiting arms. I scoop him across my chest then slam him down. WHAM!

I drag the jungle man up, but he fires a hard fist into my abs. OOF! I back off, but Brad swings his legs out, tripping me down. He leaps onto me, but I get my knee between us. I kick him back. He stumbles through the ropes, out onto the matted floor. I roll up and come to the ropes. Brad is again crouching down, hair mussed and looking at me cautiously.

The loincloth-clad stud rises and approaches the ropes. I back up and let him come in. Brad bounces and I take a moment to admire his pecs and pouch as they move up and down. I feel a stirring in my leather pouch as the jungle stud and I circle again.

Brad says, "You're pretty good."

I respond, "You, too. We're pretty even here."

"But there's only one King of the Jungle." Brad beats his chest and I smile.

We circle again. Brad lunges for my legs. I jump back, out of his way. He lands on his knees in front of me, so I lean forward and lock on a front facelock. I drag Brad up, grab his loincloth and flip him over with a suplex. WHAM! I roll back, mounting Brad. I grab his arm and force his wrist beside his ear. I keep my left forearm across his cheek, pressing his face down. As I control his leg, I push on his tricep, amping the pain on my hold.

Brad moans, struggling to move me off him. I successfully shift, maintaining position. Brad throws a body punch into my side, but I resist the impact. I release his leg, swing my body to my left and pin his right arm to the canvas. The musclestud bucks his hips up, but he can't throw me off. Instead, I release my arm hold and dive down his body, splashing onto his raised stomach. OOF! I grab behind his knee and pull his leg up as I mount his chest.

I pull the musclehunk's left leg down, using my right foot to keep his right leg flat. His groin muscles have to be feeling this, as I hold tight. Under me, the handsome jungle man is moaning. Brad suddenly grabs me around the waist, pulls back and squeezes. My hands slip from his leg as he yanks his leg free.

Brad pulls me back and rolls us over. He tightens the reverse bearhug, crushing my midsection. I groan as he pulls us up to our feet. The musclestud hauls me into his body, his powerful body collapsing my sides in the painful hold. The jungle man drops me and I fall to my hands and knees. Brad reaches down and pulls me up by my hair. He scoops me up then drops me across his knee with a backbreaker. ARGH!

The handsome jungle fetishist pushes me down to the mat then mounts my back. he grabs under my chin and pulls up. I struggle to pry his fingers off my face, but it's not happening. I grunt, but don't submit. Brad releases my chin then drives his knee into my back. He drags me up again, but I slam into him with a shoulder block. I land on top of the muscleman then move to lock on a headlock.

Brad pushes out of my hold, but I get behind him with a chinlock. I crank on the controlling hold, keeping Brad seated and in front of me. The musclestud struggles, almost getting free, so I twist, wrapping my arm in front of his neck. I pull back, lifting Brad up my thigh into a dragon sleeper. He groans, his amazing body writhing in front of me.

I keep up the pressure, but I can't submit Brad nor put him out, so I switch to a side headlock, stretching out behind him. The muscleman lies on his side, suffering, his muscles getting weaker. I feel like I'm finally wearing him down, but Brad has other ideas. He gets a burst of energy, turning forward then slamming his elbow into my abs. OOF! I fall off him as he moves away from me.

I dive on Brad then drag him up. I whip him into the corner. Brad shows his athleticism, hopping onto the middle turnbuckle and leaping back at me as I charge in to splash into him. The loincloth-clad stud slams into me with a forearm to my head. CRACK! WHAM! I get flattened to the mat hard, rolling on my stomach as I try to gather my wits. Before I can move, my muscular opponent is pulling my face into his loincloth.

Brad smothers me in his bulge as he locks on a tight head scissors. I struggle to shift for breath, the loincloth making it hard. I rub my hands over his magnificent thighs, which would normally be wonderful, but not under these circumstances. The jungle man lets go of the head scissors then pulls me up. He puts his shoulder into my stomach then lifts, carrying me around the ring. I feel helpless, carried like Jane being carried off by Tarzan or something.

I hang there until he drops my ass onto the top turnbuckle in the corner. When I'm seated, Brad climbs the ropes, hammering a forearm into the side of my head to keep me docile. He buries my face against his bulge then grabs me in a front facelock. In desperation, I hammer my fists into his gut. Brad grunts. He's unbalanced on the ropes, enabling me to send him out of the corner.

Brad falls back, landing on his feet. I bounce once then dive at him with a crossbody block. Brad actually catches my 200-lbs of muscle then slams me down hard. He stomps my body then drags me up. The muscleman whips me into the corner. CLANG! I collapse onto my ass, the turnbuckles propping me up.

I sit against the bottom turnbuckle, trying to gather myself. I hear loud footsteps, so I open my eyes just as Brad is launching at me. He jumps, legs spread, his loincloth flaps flying back against his body. The jungle stud plants his ass into my pecs, driving the air from my body. OOF! He sits on my chest for a moment as I suffer under him.

Brad grabs the top ropes then bounces up and down. He hammers me with the bronco buster move, slamming his ass into my pecs. I sag lower and lower, with the musclestud only stopping when I'm down flat. Brad gets off me then grabs my ankle. He drags me into the middle of the ring and goes for the pin.

ONE! Pause. Ugh, I hurt. Getting fucked by this stud wouldn't be terrible. TWO! No, I refuse to give up. I throw my arm up, lifting my shoulder off the mat.

Brad grabs my hair and drags me up to my feet. He moves behind me, forces my arms up for a full nelson. I fight to stop him, but Brad powers my shoulders together. He pushes my chin into my chest and locks his hands behind my head. I groan as the jungle man shakes me back-and-forth. My legs go limp, but I don't give.

"Submit!" Brad demands, but I refuse.

The frustrated jungle stud drags me back towards the corner. Maintaining the hold, he starts to climb onto the bottom rope, using the turnbuckles for support. I rise to my toes, but when he leans back, I can't keep any contact with the mat. I hang in the hold moaning.

I don't know how long I last, but I finally have to give.

I moan, "... give ..."

Brad releases me, letting me fall to the canvas. He stands beside me, planting his foot on my chest. The jungle man looks majestic as he stands over me. The musclestud beats his chest and yells out a jungle cry. I close my eyes in defeat, exhausted.

The Stakes

Brad sprays water on my face to wake me up. I roll onto my side then my back. I look over at Brad waiting, crouching like the sweaty jungle stud he is. Damn, what a fucking beast. He moves over and mounts my waist. The handsome jungle man starts massaging my torso, feeling me up. It's ridiculously sensual and has me moaning in heat.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to put you out." Brad leans down and licks the drops of water off my face, his primal nature getting me hot.

I say, "Not out, just resting my eyes. Man, that was hot."

The jungle stud asks, "Ready for a little law of the jungle action? Still into it?" I nod, remembering what he wanted to do if he won. I breathe in, anticipating some pain, but a shitload of pleasure.

Brad moves forward. I notice that he's switched his loincloth to a version without a pouch. When he hovers over my face, the leather flap moves, revealing his cock and balls. His dick is a nice 7" rod, but he has intimidating girth and his low-hanging balls are more than a mouthful. The jungle man kneels over me then lowers his manhood over my mouth. I start to polish his balls, doing my best to suck around the shaved orbs.

The jungle man shifts to make me take his cock. In this position, I can only take the head of his thick rod, but he moans like it's amazing, so I keep doing my best. He slides out and grabs two leather flaps. He rises then drops them on me, asking me to put them on. Brad watches, rubbing himself under his flap as I get up, strip off the full cloth and tie the pouchless version around my waist.

My hard shaft pushes the front flap up, but Brad doesn't seem to mind. My cock is standing at attention as he circles me, inspecting his plaything. When he gets behind me, he starts fondling my ass, checking me out like I'm a piece of meat. He orders me to bend forward and spread my legs. When I do, he pushes the flap up to fondle my hole, using two fingers to test and stimulate me. Oh damn, that feels awesome and my moaning tells him so.

Brad brings me back to standing. He moves around in front and cups my pecs. He squeezes them hard, manhandling my flesh. His calloused fingers and leathery palms on his mechanic's hands are rough against my nipples as he works my chest. He tests my pecs with punches. THUD! THUD! THUD! I'm forced to step back, but I take them. The muscleman switches to chops. I'm quickly staggered, falling backward against the jungle landscape wallpaper.

The dominant muscleman rubs my body sensually, coming in against me. Our bodies are pressed as he kisses my neck. Oh damn, he's so hot. Brad reaches under my loincloth and seizes my cock. He drags me back to the center of the room and forces me to stand before him once again. He rubs my abs. I tighten them, showing off my six-pack. He digs his fingers in, trying for a claw, but he can't break through.

As with my pecs, initial failure only leads to harder punishment. Gut punching starts in, driving me back. I struggle to absorb the blows and maintain my posture, but I can't. Brad is a powerful man and the fists quickly break down my muscle wall. He beats me back into the wall then slaps on the claw again. This time, he has no trouble grabbing hold and tearing at my midsection. I groan as he takes my stomach apart with his steel grip.

Brad steps back and I hunch over. Satisfied that he's breaking me down, Brad reaches for my accessible manhood. The handsome hunk wraps his hand around the base of my cock and balls. He roughly tugs on them, testing me as I stand there helplessly.

My cock remains hard, but his rough leathery grip is quickly painful as he tugs. I finally have to say something. "Please ... stop ... King of the Jungle."

Brad smiles as he lets go of my manhood. He grabs my hair and forces my head back. He lightly slaps my face then smothers my mouth with his. It's too rough to be called a kiss, but his tongue dominates mine, just as he's dominating me. When he pulls back, Brad drags me out from the wall by my hair. I drop to my knees on the mat then crawl behind him as he forces me onto all fours in the center of the room.

The primal musclestud gets in front of me. He rubs my face on his bulge then lifts the front of his loincloth. I stare at his thick uncut cock. I do my best to take it all the way as he face fucks me, ramming it in until my nose is smashed into his trimmed pubes.

Brad works my mouth for a good while, using my hair to control my head position. I suck on his shaft, unable to do much with my tongue because he's so thick. It's all I can do to keep my teeth out of the way. The big man finally pulls out and circles around behind me. He lifts the back flap up onto my back then lubes my hole, working me open with his fingers. I hear the condom wrapper open and brace for impact.

It turns out that Brad's as big a beast with sex as he is with wrestling. His cock fills my hole, feeling amazing as he holds nothing back. I haven't had this rough a fuck in a long time and I love it. It's fucking animal sex, which is perfect, given the setting. I can tell he's all top as he pounds me without mercy. I struggle to keep my body steady as he slams his hips against my ass. I'm moaning and begging him to keep going with his monster cock.

Brad seems to appreciate my verbalizations, because he picks up in both speed and ferocity. He starts smacking the side of my ass in time then reaches forward and grabs my hair. I give him cues that I love it. Damn, he's so good. Brad slides out then puts me on my back to finish the job. With my legs up, I stare at his heaving pecs and washboard stomach as he splits my hole in two.

Oh fuck. I may not be able to walk after this. I spontaneously shoot my load, even without anyone touching it. Cum fires out of my shaft, coating the inside of the front flap which covers my abs. Brad tells me I just proved him the alpha and I happily admit he is. This is all he needs. He pulls out and slides beside me. He fires onto my chest, lining my pecs with his seed. The jungle stud lets out a loud, Tarzan victory yell as his white hot cum hits my thick pecs.

When he's done, he squats over my face, pushing his cock against my lips. I carefully grab hold with my lips and clean his still huge head. The musclestud reaches out and rubs our cum into my flesh.

Brad lies beside me and kisses me again. He thanks me for an awesome time and I do the same. He helps me up, making sure he wasn't too rough. I assure him this was perfect. Exactly what we discussed and much hotter than I ever expected.

The End of the Road

Even though I'm sore as hell, I feel pretty good until I get back to the Ring of Wrestling facility where my best friend Jeff and my boyfriend Dylan work. FYI, I have a wrestling exemption on exclusivity in my relationship with Dylan, so I wasn't cheating. Anyway, about Dylan and Jeff. I find them together, huddled in a corner. They both look upset and Dylan has his hand on Jeff's shoulder. Jeff's saying, "Thanks for the support, dude. And the advice."

When they see me, Jeff hangs his head. Dylan gets up then says, "I'm sorry, Ben. I tried, but I couldn't do anything."

I ask, "About what? What's wrong?"

Jeff says, "I'm canned. They said they had to make roster space. It was me or Kyle. They chose him. I guess he's been campaigning for awhile. You know how there've been a few screw ups in our matches? I'm getting the blame. Dylan fought for me, but it wasn't just Kyle. Dylan says it was Champ, too. After I fucked his ass, I guess he wanted me gone, too."

It takes me a second to process this. "Wow. I guess it's back to the indie circuit."

Jeff shakes his head, "Naw, I'm done. Too much political shit, just like last time. I gave it another shot, but this just ain't for me. I don't want this."

I'm confused, "What do you mean?"

Jeff floors me, telling me, "I'm quittin'. I'm goin' back to construction."

Saying Goodbye

I sputter, "W-w-what? You can't. I need you!"

Jeff smiles, "Naw, you don't. Remember why we did this?"

"Of course. I wanted to find myself. My passion. You came to help me. You said we were in this together. How can you go now?"

Jeff grabs my shoulders, "Because you did it. Buddy, you found it all. Look at you. You got your passion, bro. A job you love. A new man. This was the plan. We look, we find and then life goes back to normal. I told you when we started that my boss said I could come back. I talked to him and I can. He's got a deal building houses in Albany and needs more hands to close them up before winter really hits. Then I can work inside until spring. It'll be good money. I can use a company truck and one of the guys has a couch I can crash on."

I shake my head, "Jeff -"

"Ben, congrats. You did it. You're there. Don't worry about me."

"But -" I stop, unable to figure out what to say. My head is spinning.

Jeff tells me, "Bro, we're still us. We're still us. Ain't nothing gonna ever change that."

I swallow hard, "I just hate to see you quit your dream."

"Dude, pro wrestling's just not for me. I gotta accept it and move on. And you gotta accept it."

I shake my head, "I can't. I won't. I can get you gigs. I can promote you more. I can buy ROW for fuck's sake ..."

Jeff grabs me in a tight hug. He whispers, "Bro, you could do all of that. You could probably make me a star. You can do anything. But it's not your call. It's mine."

I feel like I could cry, "How can I go on alone?"

"You ain't alone. Fuck, you're like the least alone guy I know. You got Dylan. You got friends across this country. And you got your clients. And you still got me. You'll always have me."

"I love you, Jeff."

Jeff pushes out of the hugs. He smiles, "Then our goodbye dinner's on you, bro."

I can't keep the tears out of my eyes. Jeff hugs me again. I hug him back, as hard as I can. As if I refuse to let go, he'll have to stay.

It doesn't work. The next day, I drop him off at the bus station. Another hard goodbye, but I promise him that I'm coming to Albany for Thanksgiving in a couple of weeks. And we'll do Christmas together. And New Year's Eve. And MLK Day. And any other day I can think of.

When Jeff reaches Albany, he calls me. We have an awkward conversation. Maybe the only one we've ever had. I miss him already. It's so weird. It's not like this is new. Jeff and I were far apart when I was in school. And when I lived in Manhattan and he lived in Jersey. But somehow, over the past five months, during this journey, it changed. I knew we wouldn't live together forever, but I'm just not ready for this.

Dylan tries to comfort me. Jeff's journey has ended, but mine's still going on. My boyfriend joins me as my new traveling companion. I try to act cool, but I feel like part of me is missing. The worst part is, I know exactly where that part is. It's doing construction in Albany. And in spite of all my money, my Ivy League education and my willpower, I can't seem to do anything about it.

All I can do is move forward.

The End of Season 2

Stay Tuned for Season 3 - Coming Soon