AMU 250.2: Javi vs. Vincent

CODY'S ROOFTOP DECK.

RYAN'S 30TH BIRTHDAY PARTY.

“Oh my god, JAVI! It’s so great to see you! Guess what? I just met Darcy McEwen. You know, the hockey player? I got a picture with him. He was sooo cool. And sooo hot. He asked me not to post it. Maybe because he had this stuff on his face and chest. Wanna see?”

I snarl at him, “Micah.”

Fuck. I knew it. I didn’t want to come to this 30th birthday party for Ryan, but my 22-year-old 6’3”/230-lbs musclehunk boyfriend Ramsay really wanted to be here. I couldn’t say ‘no’ to him. I’m 35, 5’10” and 200-lbs of hairy muscle. He puts up with my moods, so shit like this is the least I can do for him. We know a bunch of guys here, which is why I don’t wanna be here, but he’d feel like he missed out on the party of the year.

Fucking Micah.

I gotta admit, it is fucking hot. Cody went all out for his best friend. It’s a Cody party for sure. Wrestling-themed at his place, a big live-work building that’s a private gym on the main floor, big three-bedroom apartment on the second, and a killer roof deck up here. Three floors of half-naked guys from age 18 to 80. Drinks, music, food, dancing, wrestling, and sex.

Most of the guys are wearing pro wrestling gear. Ramsay and I came as a tag team with our own gear inspired by my favorite old school bad boys, the Atom Bobs. Just two huge, rough dudes named Bob who beat the shit outta everyone. Our take is black trunks with a radioactive symbol in front. We got black pads, boots and leather studded cuffs on our wrists, along with black face paint around our eyes like a mask, black lipstick, and black nail polish.

Me as an Atom Bob.

My man Ramsay as
the other Atom Bob.

Like I said, I came here for my man Ramsay. I had a rough breakup with my last young boyfriend. I admit that it left me humiliated and broken-hearted. I kept Ramsay at arm’s length, but I just couldn’t keep that up. He’s an awesome stud. Now, we’re exclusive except for the guys we fuck at Rival Pro Wrestling, the wrestling video company I own. But that’s work. Most of the guys here are with The Cave, a competitor and kind of partner.

I hate The Cave. Ryan and Cody co-own it, but that’s not why I hate it. It’s where my humiliation was filmed and sold. It’s why I created Rival. I told my young boyfriend that this party would be full of guys I don’t like. Ramsay said, “The list isn’t that long, Javi, and it’ll be so packed with other guys that you won’t run into them and if you do, they will leave you alone.”

I didn’t agree. Turns out I was right. I can’t even make it back from the bar without running into one of the main guys I didn’t want to see.

Micah.

He’s a young rich punk who I was fucking. I told him about Rival, hoping he’d help me get it going. He’s got a trust fund, and I didn’t need much. He never came through, but that’s fine, it’s his money. What pissed me off is that Micah told Cody about Rival before I was ready. He ratted me out and now I’ve ended up locked in a deal where I pay them as my distribution partner. So much for my clean break from The Cave.

Micah acts like we’re not enemies. Like he didn’t betray me. He tries to show me his stupid pic, but I refuse to look at it. He doesn’t notice, “Yeah, what a surprise. Leave it to Cody to get celebrities to show. Is there anything he can’t do? Cody, I mean, not Darcy. Although Darcy’s pretty talented, too. I had such a crush on him. Darcy, I mean. What Cody and I have isn’t a crush. We’re friends. See, he was, and I’m talking about Darcy here, he was getting fuh-”

I interrupt, “Shut the fuck up, Micah.”

The rich muscleboy looks like I just punched him in the gut. Something I’d love to do, actually, but I’m holding a drink for Ramsay and a box of water for me. I get that Micah’s an idiot who can’t keep a secret. A flighty little bitch who’s just sailing through life. And I knew that he had a thing for Cody. I never should’ve expected him to be more loyal to me than him. But that doesn’t make him betraying me right. Yeah, it was an accident, but I don’t forgive or forget.

Micah gives me puppy dog eyes. He’s good at it. If he wasn’t such an empty-headed moron, I’d say he’s trying to manipulate me into forgiving him. But he isn’t, because he asks me a really stupid question. “Are you still mad at me, Javi?”

I reply sarcastically, “What do you think?”

The boy relaxes and smiles broadly, “Oh good. I don’t think you are. It all worked out and you’re actually better off. Thanks to Cody. He’s so generous, helping out a rival … oh wait, a rival whose league is actually named Rival? That’s a real coincidence, isn’t it? Anyway, Cody is always -”

“STOP! Micah, I AM still mad at YOU.” More sad puppy dog eyes. Fuck. I want to lay into him, but I can’t. He’s too cute and brainless. I growl, “Have fun, kid. I gotta get back to my guy.”

“You, too. I mean the ‘have fun’ part, not the get back to your guy part. You’re already doing that, so it wouldn’t make any sense for me to say that to you. See you around, Javi!”

“Not if I see you first.”

----------

OUT OF THE FRYING PAN.

I stomp off to head back to Ramsay. It’s so crowded. I bump into a big muscleman. He turns around and gives me a big grin. We stare at each other. Remember I said my last relationship with a younger guy ended bad? Guess who I bumped into. Yep. The 25-year-old, 6’2”, 220-lbs muscle beast who humiliated me and forced me out of The Cave. I tense, looking up at him.

Miguel.

“Javi. Can’t believe that your new victim - sorry, I mean, boyfriend - got you off your couch and back into society. Look at you, somewhere you don’t wanna be and fetching him drinks. I’m impressed. The big boy has trained you to be the sub in your relationship. Good for him. I guess you haven’t been any more successful in breaking him down than you were with me.”

“Fuck off Miguel. Last time I saw you, you were unconscious, slung over Buck’s shoulder. It was a big improvement.”

My ex ignores that. He looks at my chest, “Huh. Your chest hair’s never really grown back in right, has it? I can still see the dollar sign pattern that I shaved in it.”

I growl, “Fuck off, Miguel, or you’ll be bald again.”

“Yeah, tough talk from a loser who had to send a farmer to The Cave to do what you couldn’t. But I’m touched that you watched my match against Buck. Unfortunately, I haven’t seen anything from your goofy little thing, but I guess you’re used to hearing that. Can’t believe you had to beg Cody and Ryan to come in and save it. You really have fallen from alpha status.”

I’m getting angrier. I tell him, “Move.”

“I’d say ‘make me’ but we both know how a fight between us goes. Lucky for you I left my clippers at home.” I growl. If I wasn’t holding two drinks ... “Don’t worry, I won’t humiliate you again. Not here, at least.” Miguel steps aside. I stomp past. He says to my back, “Tell your boyfriend I’m available to chat whenever he gets tired of your crap. We can swap stories.”

I turn and throw my box of water at his abs. CLONK! It hits and drops. Miguel looks at me with a grin that tells me he thinks he just won. Fuck, why did I lose my cool? I wait for him to charge me, but he just stares for a second. He picks up the box and I wait for it to come back at me. Instead, he unscrews the cap and chugs it down, deliberately spilling some down his torso. He finishes the whole box. Miguel crushes it as he winks with a cocky ass grin on his face as he puts it on a passing waiter’s tray.

----------

THIRD TRY’S A BITCH.

I stomp away. There’s Ramsay. Finally. I’m just ten feet away when I hear, “JAVI! I’m happy you came. Great to see you.”

I moan and look at the stars, “Oh fuck, I just can’t catch a fucking break.” I look at our host and say in an exhausted sigh, “Hey, Cody. Ramsay wanted to be here.”

Cody looks at me with that smug look of his. I have a free hand now. Maybe I should smack it off his face. He says, “Of course, of course. It couldn’t be you that wanted to show up. Well. I hope you’re finding a way to have fun. You look fantastic.” He checks me out, “The Atom Bobs!” I nod. Of course, Cody knows his old school wrestling. He nods, “I love it.”

I can’t handle his friendly small talk, “Gotta get back to Ramsay.”

Cody continues, “Ry says that Rival is picking up steam. That Flyboy versus you video was awesome. It really caught some blogger attention. Congratulations.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Nothing else? Not even a smile? I thought we had a breakthrough at Mr. Howard’s place.”

“Don’t mention that weekend. Don’t mention The Cave. Don’t mention anything. I’m not in the mood. I got nothing to say to you, Cody.”

“Okay, okay. But why are you mad at me?”

“Like you don’t know.”

“I don’t. What horrible thing have I done now?”

Fucking Cody. He’s right. I shouldn't be mad at him, but I don’t feel like admitting that. Not after seeing Micah and Miguel. Instead, I just say, “Not the time. It’s a party.”

Cody’s always been too fucking smart. Like a mind reader. That’s my problem with him. It didn’t used to be my problem with him when he was only using his uncanny empathic intuition to scam guys into his bed. It is now that he’s using it on me. Now that he ‘cares’ about other people's feelings, he drives me crazy. I liked him better as a selfish asshole. Anyway, he sees right through me, and I hate it.

Cody smirks, “You can’t think of a reason, either? Just mad to be mad.” He leans in and hugs me. My free hand forms a fist. Maybe I should punch him in the gut. He whispers, “Let’s grab a coffee and chat. I have some cool ideas for Rival.”

I stomp off without answering, heading back to Ramsay. I hand him his drink. He asks, “I thought you were getting yourself some water?”

I close my eyes and slowly count to ten. When I open them, I say, “I ran into Micah, Miguel, and Cody. All on one trip back from the bar.”

“Yikes. Sorry.” Ramsay thinks before he asks, “I know why you hate Miguel. I get why you’re mad at Micah. But what’s happening between you and Cody now? Did he say something?” I glare at him. He blinks innocently, “What? I’m just asking. I thought you guys were good.”

I growl, “I gotta hit the can.”

----------

FIRST FLOOR.

I stomp off. I don’t really need to go. I just need to be by myself for a sec. The roof and second floor are too packed, but the main floor is clear. Just Cody’s gym and the clothing check guy who’s sitting on his phone doing nothing. Of course he’s not busy. Most people are already here, and no one is leaving yet. Maybe Cody has a heavy bag? I need to punch something.

As I stomp through the black curtain hiding the gym area, I see a guy working out. What the fuck? A bodybuilder. Looks Vietnamese. Fuck, the boy is wide and ripped. And young. 18-19, something like that. I wonder if he wrestles. With the right gear and persona, an Asian kid like this would fit the 80’s vibe I’m going for with Rival. I’d put him against an all-American muscleman, someone with some beef and some body hair. He’d draw fans.

The teen bodybuilder sees me staring. He smirks and flexes, “I know, old man. Amazing, right?” He goes into a posing routine. Like I’m gonna care or be impressed. “Can’t take your eyes off me? Not surprised, but not interested. Just pumping before I go up.”

I ignore his BS, “You wrestle?”

“Yeah. I’m incredible at it. Of course. You looking for a private match?” The punk grabs his bulge as he checks me out, “Sure, I’m open to it. It’ll cost you, but I’ll kick your ass. What do you like? Humiliation? Worship? Stakes?” He nods at me, “All you old guys are the same.”

“No, you got it wrong. I’m Javi. I got a wrestling video company. Called Rival.”

“Yeah? Sure you do.” He asks cautiously, “Xaq work for you?”

“Zack? Nope, I don’t have a Zack on the roster.”

“Not a Xaq. THE Xaq. Spartan. Bird Boy. A fatter, uglier, white imitation of me.”

“Still no.”

“Good.” The punk comes right up to me. He flexes his bicep in front of my face. “Name’s Vincent, but you can call me Mr. Muscle God. Go ahead. Kiss it. You know you want to.” He grins, “C’mon. Don’t be shy. It’s your lucky night, gramps. I’ll join if you get to worshipping. Start with my bicep then drop to your knees. Kiss my foot. Your choice which one.”

Forget this kid. I got enough problems. He wouldn’t be worth it. I growl, “I’d rather start with a fucking fist to your gut.” I move away, “Offer’s rescinded.” I try to go around him, but he blocks me. I warn, “Move, boy. Bad night. I’m looking for something to punch. You don’t want it to be you.”

Vincent laughs, “You think I care? You could pound on this body all night and all that’ll happen is you breaking your hands.” He flexes his abs, “At your age, I can’t imagine how much arthritis you got. Now, if you want me to wrestle for you, get to worshipping.”

I growl, “Seriously, kid. Don’t push me.”

“You fuck up my pump session with some fake ‘job offer’ and now you wanna run away? Fucking coward. I should humiliate you just for fun.”

I tighten up. “What’d you say?”

“You hard of hearing, old man?”

“You calling me a coward? You talking about humiliating me?”

“Yep. If you push me.” He strikes a double bicep flex, “Kneel down.”

I hold back, somehow controlling my body, but my mouth’s moving too fast. I spit out, “You got some guts, punk. Lucky for you this is a party.” Cody has a heavy bag. I try to move past him, but Vincent’s wide as fuck. “Move. I’m gonna start punching.”

The teen bodybuilder turns. When I move by him, Vincent punches me in my stomach. THUD! OOF! He grabs me from behind, locking me in a sleeper. Fuck, he is strong. He whispers in my ear, “How about I knock you out? Wear your carcass over my shoulder. You want that?”

I twist enough to elbow his side. WHOMP! OOF! I bend forward and flip him over. He lands on his back. BAM! I drive my boot onto his abs. STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! He pushes my leg away and rolls up to his feet. Smooth for a muscleboy. His face is redder than his abs. The teen bodybuilder points at me, “You really want this? I had you doubled over with one punch.”

“I warned you. I’m in a mood, kid.”

Vincent puts his hands behind his head. He flexes his abs, “C’mon, old man. Just gut work. Submission. Winner gets stakes. Suddenly I’m in the mood for aged beef.”

Perfect. Just what I need.

----------

FIGHTING VINCENT.

We raise our fists and circle. The muscleboy is powerful. I just have to be smart. If he gets up on me, I’ll be in trouble. We move in. He tries to kick me in the gut. Vincent’s big, but not that fast. Or that smart. I see it coming a mile away. I grab his boot. I twist and pull, bringing him to the mat with a leg drag takedown. CRASH! He hits hard on the padded floor.

I’m up, coming down with a knee directly onto his abs. THWAK! OOF! His eyes bug out of his head. I twist and get on him with my ass on his face and my ankles pinning his shoulders. I start pounding his abs. THUD! POW! THUD! He crunches under me, but I keep pounding, getting in as many shots as I can. POW! THUD! POW! I focus on his bellybutton, softening up one area. THUD! POW! THUD!

Vincent throws me off. As he rises, I spin and kick him in the side. WHACK! He grunts and rolls over onto his back. I dive in, coming down with a double axehandle to his abs. WHAM! OOF! I mount his legs and unleash my fists again. POW! THUD! POW! With his legs pinned, he’s gotta take more punches. THUD! POW! THUD! The teen bodybuilder’s gritting his teeth.

Wish I had gloves. It’s like hitting a fucking wall, but I’ll never let on. I add some shots below his navel on his flat Apollo’s belt. POW! THUD! POW! That gets him crying out. Vincent crunches up, trying to punch me, but I block it. I drive my right forearm down onto his abs followed by my left. WHAP! THWAK! He arches his back, moaning loudly like a bitch.

The punk screams, “GET OFF ME, YOU FAT OLD FUCK!” He throws me off again.

I can see red fist prints on his smooth, tanned washboard. He rolls away. I move in again. My dick is semi-hard from dominating this punk. The teen bodybuilder surprises me by diving forward from one knee. His right shoulder hits me square in the gut. WHOMP! OOF! Vincent lifts me off the ground, running my back into the wall. SLAM! I sag against the wall. Fuck.

The muscleboy stands up. He wraps one paw around my throat and squeezes. I gag in the choke. He fires a big fist into my hairy gut. THUMP! OOF! Even with my abs flexed, I felt that. The punk smirks, “I warned you, old man.” He punches my abs again. WHOMP! OOF! I know I’m in trouble. Another big fist sinks in deep. THUMP! I feel like it almost reached my spine.

I start coughing. I’m in danger, but he’s too cocky. Vincent’s standing sideways, drawing his fist back again. As he punches, I block into the inside of his elbow. His arm buckles and I shift, twisting free. The punk can’t stop his right fist. It goes past me and slams into the wall. CRACK! I look back. Shit, there’s a hole now. Too bad, Cody. Hope you know drywall repair.

The young bodybuilder is frozen, looking shocked, his mouth open. He falls forward, his massive muscular body lying against the wall. I can hear the softest whimpering. His head rests on his left forearm. When he draws his fist back, he spins around, resting against the wall. I can see he’s in shock and pain. His broad shoulders are slumped down as he opens and closes his hand. Good sign for him, I guess.

Yeah, I should ask him if he’s okay, but instead, I kick him in the gut. It’s not flexed, so he really feels it. Vincent bends forward. I grab his thick black hair and pull him from the wall. I draw my leg back and kick up, hitting him in the abs with the toe of my boot. WHOMP! OOF! Is now a good time to mention that the Atom Bobs wore steel-toed pro boots? Yeah, he felt that.

I lift his head, so he’s standing. We lock eyes. I wink. He sneers, but I jump up and hit him with a low dropkick. Both boots slam right into those sculpted abs of his. STOMP! He flies back into the wall. SLAM! I’m up fast. I charge at him, leaping and spinning in midair. The punk doesn’t know what to do as I slam into him, back-first, backed up by all my weight. SPLAT! OOF!

I bounce off. He’s hanging onto the wall to avoid going down. I donkey kick backward into his gut. STOMP! He bends forward and I think he might puke. The punk manages to hold it in. I use his hair to drag him to standing, immediately coming in with a big knee to his abs. THUD! He goes to shove me away, but it’s desperate and clumsy. I easily knock his arms to the side.

With his arms out, Vincent’s ripped midsection is wide-open. Exactly what he doesn’t want. I crouch and start in with right jabs and left crosses, my fists flying with relentless fury. BAM! BOP! BAM! The teen bodybuilder is too stunned to block or counter, just standing here and taking every punch. THWAK! BOMP! BOOF! He moans, “STOP! PLEASE STOP! STOP!”

I stand up and back off, “Submitting already, kid?”

Vincent gets his breath. Something about this boy tells me that he can’t be trusted. Sure enough, he swings his left fist at me. Not at my abs, but at my head. I duck and he misses by a mile. I come in with a gut punch that sinks into his stomach, the wall of muscle feeling a lot softer and weaker. He coughs and falls forward, his face resting on my shoulder.

I shrug him off. “You’re done, boy, but I’m not. Not until you submit for real.”

“Fuck you, old man!”

The teen bodybuilder tries another cheap shot. This time trying to punch my bulge with his right fist. I grab his wrist. Now, I’m pissed. I grab his right forearm with my other hand. I overpower his arm, slamming his right hand against the wall. WHACK! The kid cries out. When I let go, he draws his hand into his body. I admit it. I smirk at his pain.

Yeah, shitty thing to do to a kid who might have a broken hand, but he can always give. Maybe he’ll think twice about fake submitting or cheap shots. Nah, probably not. The sudden shock of pain takes the fight right out of him. I figure he’s one-handed for now. I grab his left wrist and force it behind him. I lift my knee into his abs in three quick lifts. WHOMP! WHOMP! WHOMP!

The helpless teen powerhouse falls forward. I move out of the way, letting him curse and stumble around. When the musclebound punk stops moving, I come in from behind. I grab his hair and pull him up. I move beside him and slide under his left arm. I step over his right hip and pull back. I power him back and sideways. He moans like crazy as I amp up the pressure.

“FUCK! CHEATER! LEMME GO!”

I ask, “What’re you crying about now, you little bitch?”

“Ab work! You can’t do anything but ab work!”

I laugh, “This hold is literally called an abdominal stretch. Idiot.”

“It’s not gut punching!”

“You want gut punching?”

If the kid was a real wrestler, a strongman like him could counter this easily. Since he can’t, I figure I can I unlock my hands. I swing my free hand around him, hammering his taut, battered abs. WHACK! SMACK! THWAK! Vincent convulses and coughs with every brutal shot I give him. I love fighting a guy where I don’t need to hold back. WHACK! SMACK! THWAK! The punk cries out, “NO! STOP!” I’m not falling for that again. “I SAID STOP! PLEASE!”

“Submit and I’ll let you go.”

Vincent groans, “Stop. Okay, okay. Stop!”

I repeat, “Not good enough, boy. You’ve proven you can’t be trusted. Submit. No tricks this time. No begging. It’s easy. You give or I keep going.” When the punk doesn’t submit, I laugh at him, “You fucking little bitch. I knew you were playing games.”

I pound him a few more times before I let him go on my own. The teen bodybuilder drops to one knee. I look around. Yeah, I see what I need. I grab some of Cody’s jump ropes and exercise bands. The thicker, sturdier ones. I hang them over my shoulders before I move back in. I drag Vincent up by his hair. I spin and push him back against the heavy bag I wanted to use earlier.

As the punk tries to recover, I casually move behind the bag. I grab his wrists and pull. The massive muscleboy asks, “WHAT? What are you doing?” I tie his hands behind him around the bag using a jump rope. I wrap around, in and out, securing him tightly. It takes him too long to start struggling. My work is done. I whip the thickest band around the punk and the bag, grabbing it as it comes around. I position it over his shoulders and against his throat.

The muscleboy demands, “Stop it!”

I tie the band behind the bag. I kneel down. I make a loop in another jump rope and force his right boot through it. Again, he lets me. I comment, “Look how obedient you are. You’ve had some experience with being tied up, haven’t you boy?”

“NO!”

“Sure, Jan. When I come around in front, if you’re not hard, I’ll untie you.”

The teen bodybuilder says nothing. Probably hasn’t figured out I can see his hard-on in the huge mirrors Cody’s got on the wall of his gym. My point proven, I secure his other ankle without any resistance, bringing the ends up and connecting them to his wrists. I circle in front and swat the tip of his rock-hard dick. No words need to be said. I press my body against his.

“Oh fuck, your hairy body is like sandpaper. Get off me!”

“Fuck off with that shit, boy. I’m just grabbing these.” I pull the dangling ends of the exercise band that I tied around his neck and the bag. I stretch it in front, tying it under his meaty pecs. He gurgles as it presses into his throat. Arms, legs, body, and head all secured. Abs stretched out and open for business. He isn’t even squirming, just holding his place in anticipation.

Perfect.

I caress his red, battered eight-pack. He moans. I dance a bit, shadow boxing. He whimpers as my fists get closer. I taunt him, “Okay, muscleboy. Let’s see how masochistic you are. You know how to stop this.” I start fire fists into his washboard stomach. THUD! POW! THUD! Vincent cries out. He lets out high-pitched grunts with every shot. POW! THUD! POW!

I hammer his body hard, working him over like the total bitch he is. WHOMP! WALLOP! WHACK! His cock twitches as he moans. He’s breathing hard, his stomach getting bigger as his muscles weaken. It distends and my fists are tearing him up with abandon. The muscleboy finally gets verbal, pleading with me to stop. I remind him that those aren’t the right words.

Vincent finally has to say the words.

“I SUBMIT! I GIVE! STOP!”

I stop punching him. I smirk with a huge sense of pride.

Until I hear a familiar voice behind me.

“Javi?”

Oh shit.

I turn, “Hey, Ramsay.”

----------

I LOVE MY BOYFRIEND.

My boyfriend asks, “What are you doing?”

“I can explain. I need something to punch. This kid volunteered.”

“Volunteered?”

“Challenged, more accurately.” I turn and untie Vincent. He drops to his knees, “Tell him, boy.”

Instead, Vincent looks up at Ramsay and snarls, “Who the fuck are you?”

“I’m Ramsay. His boyfriend.”

“Figures you’d be with this fat old fuck. You know, Ramsay, you’re supposed to cut after you bulk.” My man frowns at the insult. I smirk. Vincent stands up slowly, his face wincing with pain. He fights to stand up tall, rolling his shoulders back, “Gramps her thought he could break my abs. I gave him the privilege of trying.”

I growl as I admire his red abs. I did good, “I broke you. You were begging like a bitch for me to stop a second ago. Even submitted.”

Vincent sneers, “In your dreams.” The teen bodybuilder surprises us both by bringing his fists up and into our relaxed stomachs. THUMP! THUMP! We gasp and cough. I guess his right hand is feeling better. “Stupid fuckers. I didn’t really give, you dirty old man. I just wanted you to untie me.”

That was a mistake. Ramsay bursts forward, using his 230-lbs of muscle to barrel Vincent into the wall. SLAM! He lifts his knee into the punk’s abs. THUD! OOF Vincent is coughing and cursing. Idiot. Shouldn’t have started up with my man. Not with a cheap shot. I’m the hot-tempered one, but Ramsay’s nobody’s bitch. When you rile him up, he’s just as mean as me.

The teen bodybuilder coughs, “Oh, you asshole! You cheapshotted me!”

Ramsay looks at me, confused. I shrug, “He’s nuts, but it makes him more fun to punch.”

My boyfriend shrugs and nods, accepting my answer. He says, “You really shouldn’t have brought me into your game.”

Vincent growls, “I’m tougher than both of you combined.

Ramsay drives his right fist into Vincent’s red abs. The teen bodybuilder goes down to his knees, coughing. “Uh huh. Let’s see about that.” My muscular mountain of a boyfriend drags Vincent up with a double chicken win. He holds the younger powerhouse up, keeping his arms pinned back. I start pounding away. THUD! POW! THUD! Vincent is practically crying, and his dick is going soft.

I smirk, “What’s wrong, kid? You not enjoying this anymore?”

“Fuck you! Your arthritic knuckles give you an advantage!”

Ramsay lets go and spins Vincent around. I lock him up in a full nelson. My boyfriend smiles as he makes fists in front of the teen bodybuilder’s face. “I’m 23. No arthritis here.” KAPOW! Ramsay’s first gut shot is so powerful that it knocks both Vincent and me backwards. The cocky punk is limp in my hold. Shit, did my man just one-shot him? Gotta love it.

Ramsay asks, “Want another one? I’m just warming up, but if it’s too much for you.”

Vincent shakes his head, “No. No more.”

Shit, Ramsay did one-shot him.

I warn my boyfriend, “Careful. He’s a fucking cheater. Give him another one unless he says it right.”

Ramsay makes a fist. The punk struggles, but I hold him tight. Realizing that he’s going nowhere, the teen bodybuilder has no choice. He doesn’t want any more of my big beast of a boyfriend.

“OKAY! OKAY! I submit! You dirty assholes win with your cheapshots and double-teaming. I got competitions to think about. Lemme go! LEMME GO!”

I throw Vincent to the mat. SPLAT! He collapses, rolling onto his back, arms and legs stretched out, eyes closed, breathing hard. At least he’s keeping his mouth shut. I look up and smile at my boyfriend. I’m a lucky fuck. I can’t believe that I almost gave up on this. Fuck Miguel. Fuck everyone. I’m fucking winning at life as long as I’ve got this guy.

Ramsay moves in and we kiss passionately to the sounds of Vincent’s pained moaning.

-----------

QUALITY TIME.

When we break, Ramsay grins, “I am so hot for you, Javi.”

The bulge in his trunks confirms it. And the one in mine tells him I feel the same way. My boyfriend strips his trunks off. He tosses them onto the floor and starts fluffing his big rod as we stare at each other. Damn, my man is stunning naked, in just his boots and makeup. He looks down at Vincent and gets a sly smile. He moves to the unmoving teen.

Ramsay kicks the muscleboy’s arms down against his sides. He steps over Vincent. My man drops down, driving his ass down on the teen bodybuilder’s wrecked stomach. PLOP! ARGH! Ramsay’s thick legs pin Vincent’s arms to his side. The punk screams out, “GET OFF ME!” My boyfriend ignores him. The muscleboy growls, “You're too fat! Move your ass! NOW!”

“Move my ass? Okay?” My man wiggles his hips, grinding his butt on the wrecked abs. With the 230-lbs beast pressing his weight into it, Vincent moans and groans in pain. Ramsay waves me over. When I’m close, he reaches out his long arm and grabs the front waistband of my trunks. He pulls me forward until I’m straddling the punk’s head. “You deserve a reward, Javi.”

My boyfriend pulls my trunks down. He wedges them under my balls in front. My meat springs free, pointing at him. Ramsay leans forward and starts sucking me off. His lips feel so good on my cock. Underneath me, the teen bodybuilder says, “Get the fuck off me!” Without pausing the blowjob, Ramsay rises a bit then drives back down. PLOP! OOF! That shuts the punk up.

Ramsay uses his hand and lips to get me moaning. I grab his head to steady myself. “Yeah, that’s it. Go deep, sexy. Go fucking deep.” My big muscleman takes all of me. His nose touches my trimmed pubes. He holds it, choking himself on my dick. He pulls back, his handsome face red, drool dripping, but looking so fucking happy. I caress his cheek.

Under us, Vincent says, “Get a fucking room. I’m not into chub bear porn. AND GET OFF ME!”

Ramsay slaps the teen bodybuilder across the face. SMACK! He points and the defeated muscleboy melts in submission. Fuck, my boyfriend has him intimidated more than me. I love it. My man rolls off. He rises and plants his boot on Vincent’s abs, leaning into it until the punk moans in pain. Ramsay looks at me, “What’d you two say about stakes?”

“Yeah, he agreed to stakes, but I don’t think this boy is the type who honors his deals.”

“Would you want them even if he did?”

I grin, “As foreplay for you, sure. Gotta put these musclebound punks in their place.”

Vincent is on his knees, glaring at us. He growls, “I always honor my word. I can take whatever you fatasses can dish out.” He sits down and peels off his trunks. The struggle is real as he winces when he bends the wrong way. “How do you bitches want me?”

I take off my trunks and lie on the floor. Ramsay moves in behind Vincent. He grabs him in a choke and slides his finger inside the punk. Vincent moans when Ramsay starts finger fucking him. It’s a Cody party, so condoms and lube are conveniently placed everywhere. I jerk myself hard watching the show. The teen bodybuilder looks pretty happy as my man owns his ass.

Ramsay’s got four of his thick fingers inside and Vincent’s taking it. He’s moaning and his dick is leaking. I laugh, “Looks like we got ourselves a fucking power bottom, babe.” I wrap my cock in latex and Ramsay pulls his fingers out. I order the teen bodybuilder, “Ride my dick, you musclebound bitch.” Vincent grimaces as he squats over me, moving slowly.

I ask with a condescending tone, “You too beat up to do it?”

Vincent snarls and fights through the pain, refusing to admit he’s in pain. The guy powers down, sliding onto my cock. He sits all the way down, breathing slowly. The teen powerhouse braces himself on my pecs. He finally starts bouncing, fucking himself on my pole. He moans and grunts, a combination of pleasure and pain. He does pretty good, but suddenly stops.

The punk is catching his breath. Yeah, we recked him. I lift my butt, fucking him. He groans. Ramsay comes in from behind with a rear naked choke. He uses it to lift the muscle teen up higher, giving me more room to ram my rod up his chute. Vincent is gasping in the light choke. Ramsay’s edging him and the kid is loving it. He reaches up and grabs my man’s thick arms.

Looking at the helpless bodybuilder, I can’t resist. I drive up and hold my cock in deep. Those red abs are unprotected and unflexed. I fire a fist into them. WHAM! It sinks deep. Vincent convulses. I smile and get back to pounding his hole again. I need a break, too. Ramsay See and lowers Vincent back down. My man pushes on the back of the punk’s head, pushing him forward.

Ramsay says, “You said you can take whatever we dish out. “

The arrogant fuck says, “Fuck, yeah, I can.”

“You think you can take both of us at the same time?”

The punk doesn’t hesitate, “Your pencil dicks?” I laugh. We’re both bigger than him. “Bring it on. I wanna get back to the party.”

Mouthy fucker. Ramsay doesn’t care. He moves in front, “Get me hard.” The teen bodybuilder sucks Ramsay’s big dick while resting on my hard-on. It’s keeping me hard as a rock, watching my boyfriend be dominant. I love it. He pulls out and makes Vincent sheathe the cock that’s about to split him in two. The punk almost seems eager. We’ve definitely opened him up.

Ramsay is back into position. I start pumping. I feel his thick rod against mine. As I slide inside, he rides me in. The teen bodybuilder cries out but doesn’t beg us to stop. Ramsay and I work together to sync up our thrusts and we’re quickly both in deep. I see tears on Vincent’s face, but he’s moaning in pleasure. We double fuck his tight hole, ravaging him together.

It doesn’t take long before I’m ready to cum. I slide out, leaving Ramsay to pound Vincent’s ass. Unencumbered, it’s a brutal fuck. Vincent’s whimpering as one dick proves even rougher than two. Ramsay pulls out and throws Vincent onto his back. We unsheathe our dicks and move in on him. I order the punk to work his dick. The three of us pump our meat hard.

I’m first to erupt. I blow my load across his wrecked abs. The white ropes of cum line his red, wrecked washboard from side to side. Vincent’s next, unable to hold it in. He shoots a ton, crossing my load on his abs as he gives it up. Ramsay finishes on the diagonal. By the time the three of us are done, we’ve covered that formerly perfect midsection.

Ramsay and I stand up, leaving the punk on the mat.

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TIME TO PARTY. 

As I bend forward to pick up my trunks, I look over at Vincent. The teen bodybuilder is lying naked in a pool of sweat, the deep cuts of his stomach acting as cum troughs. Those abs are red as fuck and looking soft as hell. The teen bodybuilder’s breathing so hard that stomach looks distended. His eyes are closed and so is his mouth. He’s just a whimpering bitch.

Shit, I'm not angry. Mission accomplished. I turn my head to a better view. Ramsay’s holding his trunks and he’s smiling at me. I’m overwhelmed by him. So young and gorgeous. The fact that he trusted me when he walked in on me and Vincent makes me love him. And the fact that he joined in? That makes me lust after him so much, my cock’s hard again.

Ramsay says, “Let’s go.”

“You don’t wanna shower before we go back upstairs?”

“I don’t want to go back upstairs, Javi.”

I’m surprised. “You don’t? But it’s the party of the year.”

“My party of the year is at home. With you. I love you coming here for me, but we literally came, saw, and conquered. Not in that order, but I saw who I wanted to see. All I need to see for the rest of the night is you, Javi.” Ramsay says, “I was looking for you because I wanted to offer to go home.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Now, I’m insisting we go home.” My man grabs my erection and pulls me into a hard kiss. Ramsay is the only man who’s ever made me melt like this. When we break, he asks, “You ready?”

“Fuck yeah. Lemme put my trunks on.”

“No. Don’t. We can go out the back. No one will see us. And even if they do, who gives a fuck? I plan to show you how much I love you the whole drive back to your place.”

I growl. Looks like I made the right call not drinking so I could drive. Ramsay grabs our bag with our wallets, keys, and phones from the front door guy. I wonder his reaction seeing my big, naked muscleboy coming through the curtain? When my man comes back, we strut to my car wearing boots and grins. Ramsay was right. The men at the ring don’t even turn our way. We head out, my hands on the wheel and my big boyfriend’s hands and mouth on me.

Happy fucking birthday, Ryan.

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THE END. 

UP NEXT … AMU 250.3: MYLON VS. RUFUS