The Cave: The Road to El Paso 1 (Buck vs. Jorge)

PREVIOUSLY IN THE CAVE ...

• How Beau's story started ... Route 69 S105: El Paso TX (Beau meets Ben)
• 10 weeks ago ... The Cave Unleashed 7: Beau vs. Toby (Beau takes on his brother)
• 4-8 weeks ago ... The Cave Unleashed 8: Beau vs. Keith (Beau takes on his boss 3 times)
• 4 weeks ago ... The Cave Unleashed 10: Beau vs. 'Lethal' Lee Evans (Beau's drive to LA)
• 3 weeks ago ... The Cave Unleashed 11: Beau vs. Buck (Beau makes a new friend in LA)

TODAY: THE DUSTY INN. ARIZONA.

“EL PASO! How the fuck are you doing, big man?” 

Beau (aka El Paso around here) answers coolly, “Oh. Hey, Lee.”

“You came all the way from LA just to watch me win my title back from Jeff. I’m flattered.” Lee notices me. He looks me up and down, “Who’re you? His dad?”

I hold back a growl. I know the sexy pro wrestler is intentionally being a jerk. Beau warned me that Lee is a shit-stirrer, but it’s almost possible that I could be Beau’s dad. He’s a young-looking 22, I’m an older looking 35. We’re both country and even physically the same size. Beau’s 6’1”/235-lbs of blond bodybuilder. I’m 6’2’/240-lbs of farm-raised beef.

I reach to shake hands with the 5’11”/210-lbs muscle-stud’s hand, “I’m Buck. Just a friend.”

“You’re a fucking beast.” Lee shakes my hand hard, testing me. I match his grip in power and intensity. Satisfied with my response, the young muscleman releases the shake. “Yeah, I’d get in the ring with you any day. Ever been in a ring, Buck?”

Yeah, I’d love to get in the ring with him, too. Shirtless in tights, his body is powerful and sculpted. However, I play it cool. I modestly reply, “Only for fun.”

“Yeah, you don’t fool me. Total beast.” Lee asks, “Wanna join AWE, Arizona’s fastest growing pro wrestling federation?”

Beau interrupts, “We’re just on our way to El Paso to pick up some of my stuff. I dropped in to see Dusty. And Ben. And Jeff. Since they’re here. You and AWE aren’t anywhere on that list.”

“Aw, don’t be like that.” The hunky pro playfully slaps Beau’s flat stomach with the back of his hand, “You gonna pay attention this time? I don’t wanna have to teach you another lesson. Not after you set me up with your buddy Ben. That was pretty cool, considering how I humiliated you last time.” Beau tenses and Lee smirks, “Did you like my little thank you gift?”

“The tights? Sure. I sent you a note saying I did.”

“I know.” Lee smirks, “Just wanted to hear you say it.”

I'm curious about that, “You sent him a pair of tights?”

“I sent him a pair of MY tights. Ring-worn. Signed across the ass by me with a certificate of authenticity. In a frame, too. Hang ‘em up, El Paso, because they’ll be worth something real soon, you know.”

I’m surprised as I admit, “That’s actually kind of a cool gift.”

Lee puffs out his chiseled chest, “Yeah, it is. Ben’s got fucking everyone talking about me and this rematch. Local press. Podcasters. The rumor guys. All in on me. Sure, Jeff Case from the American Wrestling League draws ‘em in, but local hero ‘Lethal’ Lee Evans winning his Arizona Wrestling Extreme title back will be the headline.”

I smirk, “You’re awfully confident.”

“Wouldn’t you be if you were me?” Lee looks around, “Speaking of Ben, where’s my guy at?”

Beau points with his thumb, “Ben’s in the back, going over things with the wrestlers.”

“Damn, I better get back there. The boys need their leader.” Lee looks us over again and I’m unsure what’s going through his head. He finally points at Beau, “We’ll have to catch up tomorrow, El Paso. Jeff and me got plans for the rest of the night.”

As he walks away, I check out Lee’s amazing ass, held firmly by his fresh gold tights. Smoking hot. He is a cocky stud and I can see the star potential.

But I wanna focus on Beau. We’re on a road trip, heading from Los Angeles to El Paso where he’s got some nasty unfinished business with his brother and boss. I offered to come along for company and moral support. 

We could’ve made the drive in one shot, but Beau wanted to see Dusty, the owner of this bar and the adjoining motel. And since his other friends, wrestling promoter Ben and big-league pro wrestler Jeff, just happened to be here, too, it made sense to stop and stay over. We’ll make El Paso tomorrow afternoon, get Beau’s shit done then be back here tomorrow night for dinner and back in Los Angeles the next day.

The way I’ve heard it, Beau showed up at the Dusty Inn four weeks ago on the worst day of his life. In the weeks prior, he’d been betrayed and emotionally abused by his brother then physically and sexually dominated by his boss. That day, it came to a head. Beau got wrecked in a wrestling match with the boss then sent packing from his home and job.

Beau headed to Los Angeles, but it was late. On his way, he landed here for dinner, a drink, and a good night’s sleep. He got into a scuffle with Lee. Unfortunately, since my friend was not at his best, he got his ass beat again that day, this time by the champ. Luckily, Dusty selflessly and generously took good care of the big blond bodybuilder for the night. I like Dusty for that.

As we’re finishing our first beers, Ben appears. He’s another real good friend of Beau’s. I hear he’s super-rich from a big inheritance, but you’d never know it. The minute Beau introduced us, Ben treated me like a buddy. He owns a wrestling fed back east and does marketing for a bunch more. Beau told him about Lee. A few days later, Ben came to check him out and the stud made a big impression, even though he lost his title to Jeff.

Ben says, “Hey, guys. How’s it going?”

We tell him it’s going great. After some small talk, the handsome middle eastern hunk shocks us both by asking us if we could wrestle tonight. We say ‘no’ but Ben explains that AWE seriously needs some more muscle and talent. We say we have no gear, but he’s got lots of extra stuff. Or he loves my stretch jeans and black belt with a big buckle. “Very cowboy.”

“I’m not a cowboy. I’m a farmer.” I have a hunch, so I ask, “Did Lee put you up to this?”

“We were talking about ways to make the current roster stronger, and your names did come up.” Ben launches into his sales pitch again. He’s good. Almost has me, but I hold strong. Before I know it, Beau’s giving in. Damn. Now, I feel like I’ve got no choice but to go along, too. I’m going shirtless with my jeans. Ben has black boots and wrist tape. Beau opts for white trunks, boots, pads, and tape that pop against his tanned skin.

30 minutes later, all the wrestlers are hanging out in the parking lot behind the building that’s acting as our locker room. This is bar wrestling, I guess. Across the lot, Beau’s talking up a 6’5”/300-lbs heavyweight in camouflage pants. Ben says he’s Mauro the Mountain. What a challenge for my buddy. I hope Ben knows how to pair guys up, because Beau needs confidence, not to be squashed by a monster.

Beau's got a challenge.

Ben says, "I've got someone for you, too, Buck. He's shorter than you, but strong."

"Is it the short muscle dude with the shaved head who was helping set up the ring when we arrived?"

This stud caught my eye.

Ben thinks then says, "No, not him. But that's Tommy, The Mountain's husband. He's still working on his wrestling skills, so he'll just play manager tonight. Your opponent is there."

I look over and nod, “Yeah, he’ll do.”

Ben says, “I hope so. Cody would kill me if I didn’t give you one of the best we've got.” Cody’s a super-sexy stud I know back in LA. I knew they were buddies, but I’m surprised that Cody’s talked about me to his other friends. Our boss for the night gives me all the details. “I hear you’re a great wrestler, so I’m counting on you to start the show.”

“Start the show? Low card. Low expectations. I can handle that.”

“No, not tonight. I’ve got Jeff and Lee rocking the main event. I know Beau’s going to do great in the match right before that one. And I’ve got you kicking things off. We’re going to have a few rough spots. You’re my big opener to generate good will.” I ask about my opponent. “Jorge is enthusiastic, but he’s a 20-year-old rookie. I’ve only been working with these guys for three weeks. He’s tough but raw and … decent in the ring.” 

“Just decent? I thought he’s one of the best?”

“Well, unfortunately, ‘decent’ makes him one of the best. Right now, Jorge is all potential. In six months, if he sticks with it, I think he’ll be technically great, but the whole babyface persona he’s doing is flat. I love good guys, but good shouldn't mean passive. He needs to find his fire. I’m hoping that facing a more talented, more experienced wrestler like you can ignite it.”

“Sure. I’ll do what I can.” Ben thanks me then heads off. I sigh, “Oh boy. No pressure.”

I check Jorge out - 5’9”/220-lbs, rich brown skin, thick dark hair and a ton of energy. He’s young, but he looks like a powerhouse - thick arms, beefy pecs, wide shoulders, ripped midsection, and tree trunk legs. He’s solid and strong. His gear - baby blue spandex shorts and black boots - is basic babyface but it looks good on him. I wouldn’t mind igniting his fire.

I'm liking my opponent.

As I pace, thinking about this impromptu match, Jorge can’t stop bouncing and moving, full of nervous energy. His unflexed pecs and bulge jiggle up and down as he circles the parking lot. He shadow-boxes then shakes out his veiny arms. I notice him eying me down every chance he gets. I catch him rubbing his bulge while idly licking his lips. Is themuscleboy hungry for me?

The young stud finally comes over. No intros, just asks, “Hey, man, you staying here? At the motel, right?”

“Yeah, with Beau.” I point at my buddy.

“Cool, cool.” We make a little small talk. A couple of minutes in, Jorge looks around to make sure no one is listening, “You, uhm, you, uh, ever heard of, uh,” Jorge lowers his voice to a whisper, “Ever heard of stakes? Like a side bet? The winner gets a, uhm, extra prize? You know, uhm, what I’m talking about, man?” He reaches into his bike shorts and adjusts his bulge. Subtle.

“I get your drift.”

Jorge looks relieved. He asks more confidently, “So, you into, uh, young muscle?”

Jorge flexes for me. Nice pump. The thick boy thinks he’s hot shit. And he kinda is. I like him. I make a point of looking him over, acting like I’m really thinking about it. He’s a young guy, but he’s got a man’s body. Yeah, he goes to the gym for those biceps and chest, works a blue-collar job for those shoulders and legs, and watches what he eats for that midsection.

After torturing him a minute, I finally nod, “Yeah, okay.”

“Cool, cool. You know, ‘cause I really like, uh, big older guys.” I flex for him and he nods, “Yeah, man. Lee said you’re a fucking beast. Me too, you know.” Jorge repositions his growing bulge in his shorts again, “You’re gonna look so good under me.”

My eyes narrow at the cockiness, but I don’t reply.

My young opponent confirms one more time, “So, uh, your motel room. After the match. You. Me. Winner, uh, you know? You, uh, like the sound of that?”

“I love the sound of that. It’s a deal.”

INTRODUCING …

I just wanted a few beers and to be here for my friend. Now, I’m opening a wrestling show and launching or destroying a kid’s career. I’m getting nervous. I mean, sure, I’ve done private ring wrestling and gay wrestling videos. But this is different. This is my first-ever pro wrestling match. In a bar. With a crowd. A crowd that ain’t gonna be on my side. The kid’s gonna be fighting hard for a shot at my ass. Too late to do shit about it now.

Ben is running over the introductions with the ref/announcer. Yeah, at AWE the ref needs to do announcing, too. I saw him outside, but assumed he was a wrestler. He's a cute little muscle dude. Short but he definitely looks jacked under his black and white t-shirt. I joke with Ben that he should be on the card. Ben smirks, "Trust me, I'm trying to get him involved in the action. Next show, hopefully."

The ref is packing muscle!

The announcer welcomes everyone. We’re the opening match of the night. When he gets to us, I’m up first. “INTRODUCING, ALL THE WAY FROM EL PASO TEXAS -” I’m not from El Paso “- STANDING 6’4” AND WEIGHING 260-LBS -” That’s an exaggeration “- IT’S COWBOY … BUCK STAAALLLLLIOOOON -” I’m still not a cowboy and my last name sure isn’t Stallion.

Ben slaps my ass, so I run in from the back. I get mostly boos. I was warned the crowd is full of the local wrestler’s buddies and as an unknown, I wouldn’t be the fan favorite. I play into them, acting like a cool and cocky heel. I do some spins as I walk to the ring then slowly climb in. I hold up my arms and welcome the boos. I point at the loudest hecklers, telling them to shut the fuck up. They love it and give it right back to me. Being a heel is fun.

“AND NOW, INTRODUCING, FROM RIGHT HERE IN OUR HOMETOWN -” Cheers, of course “STANDING 6’1” TALL -” That earns laughter from the loudmouths who I assume are Jorge’s buddies “- AND WEIGHING IN AT 230-LBS, GET ON YOUR FEET AND RAISE YOUR GLASSES -” Biased announcing “- FOR THE MAN WHO PUTS THE ‘WHORE’ IN JORGE -” Sounds rude to me, but everyone laughs knowingly “- IT’S JORGE RAMIREZ!”

Jorge enters to the standing ovation and toasts. He shakes hands, high-fives, and flexes. I back up to my corner and wait, letting him have the spotlight. The rookie wants this. He’s all smiles and yeah, he’s a babyface. He’s a nice kid, but I’m way too competitive to lie down for him. Plus, I haven’t decided if I want to fuck or get fucked by the young stud. Winning is the easiest way for me to make sure I get to make the call.

The ref checks us out for foreign objects. I get ready to be felt up until I remember where we are. Oh yeah, this isn’t a gay wrestling video. The search is all very professional and performative. He signals for the bell, and we come out of our corners.

DING! DING! DING!

THE MATCH.

Jorge shakes out his arms as he bounces side-to-side, staying light on his feet. He is sexy when he bounces. I move in with my arms raised to initiate the lockup. When he matches me, I surprise him with a big boot to his unflexed stomach. THUD! OOF! He bends over as the crowd boos my lack of sportsmanship. I club him across the back. WHOMP! He drops to one knee.

I move in and pull him into a standing side headlock. I crank hard and he drops backs to one knee. I lightly punch his head for effect. WHACK! He grunts. I pull forward and force him back onto his feet, following behind me. When our backs are to the crowd, I whisper, “Forearm my back, kid.” He does. Hard. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! He slips free. Fuck, he is strong.

I’m still not sure if I want to fuck or be fucked, but first, I need to win this thing. We lock up again, this time for real. He’s tentative, allowing me to overpower him. I push hard and fast, running him back-first into the corner. CLANG! I lift my knee into his abs. THUD! OOF! He bends forward. I grab him around the waist, lift and flip, slamming him down hard. BOOM!

Jorge shifts on his side as I roll to my feet. I drop my knee into the soft spot on his side between his ribs and hip. PLOP! He moans. The crowd boos me. I flex my biceps then shoot the finger at the table of Jorge’s heckling buddies. I drag Jorge up. I whisper, “Gut punch.” The kid listens. He fires his fist. THUD! OOF! I bend forward. He’s not pulling his punches.

I’m regretting coaching the kid as he brings his forearm up under my chin. CRACK! I stand up and fall into the ropes, shaking my head and testing my jaw. Jorge pushes me into the corner, He fires off stiff gut punches that turn my abs red. POW! POW! POW! I’m sagging against the turnbuckles. The rookie brings his leg up into my abs. THUD! I bend forward, but he roughly pushes me back to standing.

The young muscle-stud jumps up on the middle rope, straddling me. He lifts his arms and they cheer. I’m checking out his bulge in his baby blue shorts. Looks like he’s uncut. Jorge grabs my hair, forcing my head back. I look up as he fires fists into my forehead. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! I’m dazed when he jumps down. He does a spin, looking really proud of himself.

Jorge grabs my wrist and whips me across the ring. I slam in back-first. CLANG! He’s charging in, so I bounce off, meeting him with a big shoulder block. WHOMP! The rookie goes down, stunning himself when his head hits the canvas. The ref checks on him. When he backs off, I move in with a big elbow drop to his thick pecs. BAM! He groans as I roll over to one knee.

I drag him up then scoop him up across my chest. I do one full lap, holding up to show my power. I give a big body slam to the muscleboy. BOOM! He bounces off the ring, his big muscles jiggling. I love this kid bouncing. I drag the rookie up and push him into the ropes. I whip him across. He tries to turn but bounces off awkwardly. He is a rookie.

As Jorge stumbles on the ricochet, I take advantage and hit him with a huge clothesline. THUMP! His black boots leave the canvas and fly up into the air. He lands hard on his back. SLAM! I drop for a pin, lying across the big boy’s chest. I pin one arm down but don’t hook the leg. The ref hits the canvas quickly. He checks to ensure the shoulders are pinned.

SLAP!

SLAP!

Jorge kicks out at two. I act pissed, but honestly, I’m not. I drag up the sexy young muscle-stud by his wrist. I twist his arm, locking on a standing armbar. I kick my boot into his abs to get him bending forward. THUD! OOF! With a better position and new leverage, I crank on the arm, twisting it. Jorge cries out as I wrench his arm.

The rookie slaps his shoulder and stands up. He walks on his toes as I keep up the pressure on. Jorge tries to pull his arm free, but that only makes it more painful. With my longer wingspan, I’m able to club his shoulder. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! He groans with every shot, dropping to one knee as he desperately massages his muscular shoulder.

Jorge suddenly leaps up. He tries to do a flip to escape but lands on his back. SPLAT! The pressure is off, but I still have his arm up. I turn and give him a leg drop, landing on his shoulder. WHOMP! The rookie thrashes under me, but I hold him down. I use his limp hand to wave at the crowd as I laugh at them. I roll away, freeing the young muscle-stud.

I flex for the crowd as Jorge rolls onto his knees with his head down on the mat. He’s holding his arm as the ref checks if he wants to quit. He doesn’t. I move in behind him and grab him around the waist. I pull him up into a reverse bearhug. I squeeze hard. My arms dig into his sides, locked across his stomach. I lean back, lifting his feet off the mat.

There are some whistles from the crowd as the sexy young muscleman’s baby blue bulge is pushed out as I crush him. I notice he’s not fighting. That’s not good for his reputation as a tough guy. I whisper, “Struggle.” He starts squirming and kicking. I realize that might be worse as he looks like a kid losing to his big brother. I command, “Throw your arm back.”

Jorge whips his arm back. I move my head into it. CRACK! It didn’t hurt much but I let go and stagger backwards. The rookie stumbles around, holding his sore arm. I notice that his bounce is gone. The young muscleboy turns to face me, but he doesn’t move in. He’s in his head too much, unsure what to do next. From here, I can’t tell him what to do. He’ll just have to figure it out on his own.

I lift my arms for a lockup. We lock up. I let him power me into a standing side headlock. He cranks on it, and I feel the pressure. Kid’s got a ton of power. Unfortunately, he keeps holding it, like he’s got no next move. The ref is checking on me, but he talking to Jorge, telling him to move on. I’m done coaching. I figure the best way to learn is through experience.

I grab him around his hot waist. I lift him off the canvas. He kicks as he goes up. I drop him on his shoulders. BOOM! I grab under his legs and roll him up into a pin. I use my weight to keep his shoulders down. The ref counts as Jorge squirms to get free.

SLAP!

SLAP!

The rookie uses his big muscles to throw me off. I’m up first. I move in and grab him in standing side headlock. Let’s show him how cool this move can be. I hip toss him over, crashing down on top of him. WHAM! OOF! I keep the headlock and drag him up. From the headlock, I lift my knee as I release, lifting my quad right into his cute face. WHACK!

Jorge stumbles backwards. I grab hold of his hair and pull him back into a standing side headlock. I throw our bodies back, flipping him onto the mat with my power behind it. BOOM! He bounces on the canvas, stunned. I pull him up fast by his hair, right into another standing side headlock. I circle around, spinning him. His feet can barely keep up. When I let go, he flies out, dizzy and wobbly.

I measure the kid up as I bounce off the opposite ropes. I extend my arm and take him down with a huge lariat. WHOMP! He flips all the way around before crashing down in a heap. BAM! I flex for the crowd. Fewer boos. I drag him up into a front facelock. He’s still kind of wobbly. I grab hold of the side of his baby blue shorts and suplex him over. SPLAT!

With the rookie dazed, I drag him up and lift him up for another suplex. This time, I hold him. I’ve got a tight grip on his baby blue shorts, gripping the front left side from leg hole to waistband. With them scrunched up, the crowd get close to seeing a thrill, but his junk stays inside. I keep him up then just fall back. KABOOM! The young muscle-stud bounces (and jiggles).

I rise. The kid is done. I feel bad for kicking his ass here at the end, but I’m hoping he’s learned a good lesson. I circle around as he writhes on the canvas. The crowd is calling for Jorge to get up, but they know he can’t. I move to his head. I grab his legs and spin his carcass, so his feet face the crowd. I sit him up. I’m pumped and sweaty. I’m feeling my most heelish.

I point at the crowd, “This kid is your hero?”

Jorge hunches forward, limp as he sits. I step over his shoulders, my feet outside his thighs and the back of his head pressing against my balls. I reach down and grab his boots. I pull up, adjusting my grip until I can get them behind his boots. I fold him in half in stump puller. My buddy Cody taught me this move and taught me how to make it hurt (by locking me up in it). The crowd’s never seen it before but they’re liking what they see.

I call out, “How you like your local hero now?”

I crush the young muscle-stud. He moans. His hamstrings are stretching. His neck has my weight pressing down. He’s starting down at his baby blue bugle hanging there. Jorge’s arms flail as he moans in pain. The ref is asking him if he wants to give. I’ve got him trapped. Helpless in the humiliating position, the rookie has to admit what everyone already knows.

He’s done.

“I GIVE! I GIVE!”

Jorge taps my legs and the ref calls for the bell. I let go and step off. He collapses flat on his back, just a big slab of veal. The bell rings and I’m the winner. The crowd boos but I can tell they’re impressed.

I know, I know. Stump puller is a nasty move to use to get a submission because it makes the guy look and feel pretty pathetic. I didn’t make the kid look good at the end. I didn’t ignite his fire. So, yeah, I didn’t do what Ben wanted. But Jorge learned something important. Just handing him a win would’ve taught him nothing.

And besides, I got a plan to help the rookie leave here with his head held high.

As long as the kid has any fire in him.

IGNITING THE FIRE.

The ref lifts my arm up high. I turn into him and whisper, “Tell him to be a sore loser.”

The ref whispers back, “What?”

“Tell him to get mad. Sneak-attack me. Run through his moves. Show off.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, the kid needs his moment.”

The ref pats my stomach, “You’re a good man, cowboy.” I’m not a cowboy.

We break. He goes to check on the loser of the match. I turn away from them, proud of myself for helping a young rookie with a wrestling dream. I flex for the crowd and jaw with a few of the Jorge fans in the room. They’re probably his buddies. I see a few guys reacting, so I know something is happening behind me. I step back from the ropes and strike a cocky double bicep pose, opening myself up for an easy full nelson.

The young muscle-stud behind me has a different idea.

Jorge’s arm comes up between my legs, crushing my balls. SQUISH! I bend forward and reach for my bulge in genuine pain. Fuck! The kid could’ve at least pulled the shot a little. A mix of boos and cheers. The young beefcake grabs me around the waist. He lifts and leans back, slamming the back my shoulders and neck into the mat with a belly-to-back suplex. WHAM!

I roll onto my side, holding my head with my boots kicking. Jorge screams, “I’M THE MAN!” He kicks me onto my stomach then drives his boots into my back. STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! I flop and convulse with every big boot. The young stud grabs my head. He drags me up to one knee. I fire a weak fist into his solid abs. WHAP! He doesn’t sell it. I do. I grunt and shake out my hand and wrist like his gut is made of granite.

The muscle-stud rakes my eyes then uses the distraction to scoop me up across his chest. He’s strong. Jorge bodyslams me so hard, I bounce on the canvas. BOOM! I get dragged up. My 240-lbs of muscle is scooped up again then slammed down. BOOM! As I lie there, a boot on my chest and a flex over me gets the crowd cheering. They’re 100% for him now.

I look over and see the ref whispering to Ben. The boss nods then dramatically orders the ref inside the ring. The ref puts his hands up, saying, ‘no, no, no’. Ben doesn’t care. He grabs the ref by the hair and belt and throws him into the ring. The ref stands up, facing Ben. The boss points, telling him that if Jorge’s gone nuts, it’s his job to maintain order in the ring.

When the ref turns, Jorge is there. He clotheslines the cute muscled ref, flattening him. Now, the audience is really cheering. The powerhouse picks the ref up. He scoops him up then bodyslams him on top of me. SPLAT! I groan and the ref goes limp lying on me. Jorge forces the ref up. He hurls him over the top rope at Ben, who catches him then they both go down.

I roll onto my side. Jorge comes back. He shoves my head between his legs. He grabs me around the waist then lifts me fast. The solid young beefcake is a powerhouse. He gets my legs on his shoulders and my crotch in his face. He drives me down with a big power slam. BOOM! I writhe on the canvas as Jorge basks in the fans’ cheers for the badass beat down.

Jorge unleashes big boots on my body. STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! He steps over my body then drops down with a knee to my abs. THUD! OOF! I reflexively sit up and he grabs my head. The rookie powerhouse fires a series of forearms into my head. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! He slides up and pins my shoulders with his shins while flexing over me. With his packed baby blue bulge in my face, I breathe in deeply, my nose filling with his musk.

The young stud stands up and parades around the ring to cheers. I roll onto my front. When the young beefcake returns, I grab his ankle and knee. He stands still. I use him to slowly pull myself up, climbing his solid body. He spreads his arms as I slowly work the climb of shame. He grabs me by the throat and forces me up to standing. The beefy stud turns and racks me across his broad shoulders. I let out a loud groan as I hang there.

Jorge parades my carcass around the ring. I flail my arms and leg moaning in pain. He stops in the center of the ring. The stocky stud squats up and down. I scream out a meaningless submission, given that there is no ref. He squats low then shoots up, throwing me off his shoulders. I flip and land, front first. SPLAT! More boots. STOMP! STOMP! STOMP!

I lie unmoving. The beefy stud sits on my back. He pulls me up into a camel clutch. I’m trapped, but I rapidly tap his boot, signifying that I’m giving up. He holds me up with one hand under his chin. I know he’s flexing the other arm, because he’s bragging, “I’M THE MAN! AND I’M DONE TAKING SHIT FROM ASSHOLES LIKE YOU! YOU’RE NOTHING!”

Jorge moves his arm around my head. He locks on a sleeper while maintaining the camel. He squeezes and I kick my boots and waves my hands. I slow down, helpless in the powerful hold. Eventually, I stop moving entirely. He holds me for a few more seconds then aggressively pushes me forward, so I land face-first on the canvas. SPLAT!

Amid the deafening cheers from the crowd, I feel the new local badass hero’s boot planted on my back. Phones flash as the few not filming the brutal beatdown from the sore loser take pictures of his ultimate victory pose. Arms raised, trash talking the whole way, Jorge leaves the ring to chants of his name.

The ref returns to check on me. I assure him I’m okay. The kid went rough, but it was worth it. We wait a minute before I stir. He helps me stand and I weakly stumble out of the ring to jeers and catcalls.

AFTER THE POST-MATCH ACTION.

Out back, I see Ben and Jorge talking. From the big grin on the young beefcake’s face, the boss has been dishing out compliments. I overhear a few, “Seriously, Jorge. You really showed me something new tonight. The post-match attack? You’ve never been better. That’s exactly what I need to see from you during your matches.”

“Thanks, boss, but I gotta tell you, it was all Buck’s idea.”

“I know, but you still had to execute, and you did. You make a great young heel. The look. The attitude. I told you that you needed to find your fire. Well, you found it. Keep working on your moves. Your speed. But if you commit to this, I’ll work out a really good program for you.”

Jorge is pumped now, and he should be. Ben’s not a bullshitter, so he’s going to get some real opportunities, not just kind words. When you’re young, getting that kind of praise and support from your boss means the world to you. I can see it in his face. And in his shorts.

The guys see me stretching. Ben comes over, “You did something great for that rookie tonight. You’re everything Cody said and more. You can wrestle for me anytime, anywhere.”

My chest puffs out. I guess getting praise from the boss is a big deal no matter how old you are. “Thanks. I appreciate that.” I add, “I wanna know what Cody’s been saying. And when he said it.”

“You’ll have to ask him.” Ben leans in and whispers, “I know you’ve got a big decision coming up. Make the brave choice.” He winks at me as he pats my pec.

I wonder what he meant about the brave choice. Was he telling me to stay in LA? Did Cody tell him to say that? I’m surprised and confused because Cody’s over me. He stopped trying to get me to stay in Cali weeks ago. He just wants his roof garden done and me to go back to my farm. But there’s no time to think about that. I got more immediate decisions, like what do I want to do with this hot beefy brute that owes me stakes.

The young beefcake bounces over. Jorge hugs me, “Hey, man, thanks. You’re so cool.”

“No problem.” I pull my room key out of my pocket, “Still want stakes?”

Jorge frowns but nods, “Yeah, win or lose, man. You totally deserve it.”

Since he’s being a good sport, I give him another reward. I boldly grab his bulge, cupping under his meaty balls in his sweaty bike shorts, “I deserve this.” He moans as I fondle him. His cock swells and I can tell he’s got a fat one. Nice. As we lock eyes, I know that I want this young stud to fuck me more than I want to fuck him. I say, “Let’s see if you were right.”

The horny young beefcake groans, “About what?”

“About how good I’ll look under you.” Jorge looks confused. I lean in and whisper in his ear, “I won the battle, but you won the war. Last man standing gets the prize tonight, stud.” His mouth drops open. I nod my head towards the motel and walk to my room, swinging my room key on my finger. He just stands there, wondering if I’m saying what he’s hearing.

Wait. What?

The young stud finally jogs after me, “Wait up! You serious?”

“Yep. You got top. All you gotta do is take it, stud.”

I open the door and toss my key on the dresser. When I turn, Jorge pushes hard on my pecs. I fall back on the bed. I lie with my feet on the floor, arms extended out, and knees spread. I look up as he stands at the foot of the bed, between my knees. He looks so cocky. His muscles still pumped from our match. Brown skin shining with sweat as he licks his lips.

The young stud growls, “Fuck, man, you are so fucking hot.”

Jorge is massaging his bulge in his bike shorts as he takes in my big body. He reaches up and unbuckles my belt. I arch my back as he slides the thick black strap out of my jeans. Next, he unbuttons them. Top button first then he slowly pulls. The button-fly opens, revealing the bulge in my tight white briefs. He leans in and sniffs my musk, running his nose along my cock.

Jorge grabs my jeans. I lift my hips and he pulls them down to my knees. He lifts my right foot and slowly works my jeans over the black pro boots. I say, “Don’t worry ‘bout tearing them. They’re cheap and I got plenty more pair.” The young beefcake gets more aggressive and soon, they’re off, tossed in the floor, and I’m left in briefs and boots.

The young hunk climbs on top of me. He sits on my stomach, straddling my waist. Jorge rubs my pecs, telling me again how smoking hot I am, like he can’t believe it. He grabs my wrists and puts my hands on his hips. He guides my hands behind him then in front. I take over, happily feeling him up. I had my hands on him in the ring, but it’s a lot different now.

Jorge puts his hands up. He brings them down into a double bicep flex. He’s still so pumped from our match. I crunch up and reach out my long arms. I caress his biceps. They’re rock-hard boulders. I slowly slide my hands over to his meaty pecs. He puts his hands over mine and squeezes harder. I get the point. He’s a tough kid and likes things rough. I dig my hands in and he moans. I knead the thick muscles, working them.

I lie back and massage down his sides. I punch his gorgeous stomach. He nods. I do it again. And again. And again. Harder each time until his gut is red. He responds with grunts. I see his cock growing in his trunks. The fat piece of meat stretches 6” out to the side and weighs down the baby blue spandex. I move one hand to it and grip it tightly, jerking the cock in his shorts.

Jorge growls, “Yeah, you want it, don’t you, man?”

I nod, “Fuck, yeah. I want it.”

The young muscle-stud slides back and lies on top of me. He puts his hands on either side of my head. He grinds his cock down on mine. I get hard fast. I grab his pecs and squeeze hard as I press up into his package, refusing to lie passively under him. The aggressive young stud loves it. He grunts and nods. His face tells me how much he’s loving me fighting back.

The cock fight has my briefs and his shorts wet by the time he slides back and off me. Jorge grabs the waistband of my underwear. He roughly strips them down, throwing them aside. I stretch over to the nightstand, pulling out a handful of condoms. By the time I turn back, Jorge is already naked in boots. I admire his cock as it stands out, glistening in pre-cum.

The young beefcake swings his hips and I smile. His thick uncut dick bobs and sways hypnotically. I growl, “You’ve got an amazing piece of meat there. C’mon, kid, fuck me.” Jorge growls back and moves in. He grabs my boots and lifts my legs up. He braces them on his shoulders while he sheathes his beefy cock.

Jorge presses his head into my taint. He leans forward, folding me up and raising my hole. With a hard thrust, he opens me up. I groan as his steel-hard cock slides inside. We lock eyes as he keeps driving inside me deeper. When he starts plowing my ass, I know I made the right choice giving it up to him. I moan, “Yeah, fuck me, stud! You’re the fucking man!” He goes harder.

Jorge puts his weight on the back of my boots. My knees reach my shoulders. He’s slamming into me, his thick cock hitting me just right. My meat is hard and leaking. The young stud is grunting, “You like that, man? You like getting fucked by young muscle?”

I cry out, “Oh yeah, give it to me! Tear me a new one, kid!”

The beefy young wrestler relentlessly pounds my hole. He’s sweating, his mouth open and his breathing fast. Jorge’s got stamina, giving my hole a good long fuck. He’s gasping. Suddenly, he pulls out. He tears the condom off as my boots drop. He pumps with his hand. I roll up and push him back. He’s surprised but he keeps jerking while I get on my knees in front of him.

I take over, wrapping my lips over his cock. Jorge grips my head and thrusts his hips forward. I take his cock right up to the base. It’s too much for him as I suck him off, kneeling, naked in my wrestling boots. “Oh fuck, man, I’m cumming.” He lets go of my head and puts his hands behind his head as I finish him off. His body shakes as the first blast hits the back of my throat.

I swallow every drop of his massive load, filling my stomach with his hot white seed. Jorge starts to go soft as I milk out the final few drops. When I pull off, he drops his arms, turns and collapses onto his back on my bed. I crawl on top of him, sitting on his thighs. He looks up as I pump my own cock. He props himself up on his elbows, watching me.

It doesn’t take me long before I’m erupting, coating his thick chest and chiseled abs with my load. I milk myself until I’m empty then I fall beside him. We lie close, the full-size bed barely wide enough to fit us. We stare at the ceiling in silence.

Jorge finally speaks. He says, “You know something, man? I love pro wrestling.”

“Me, too. Me, too.”

THE END.

Next story February 15, 2023: Cave Shorts: The Professor Meets Xaq.

The Road to El Paso continues March 1, 2023.