canwrestle's blog

The sequel to Dave and Charlie

Here is a expert from the story:

“How’s that feel boy?” He taunted, “You like that don’t you?” The fact that I was hard was a pretty clear indication I did but I growled out a “fuck you” anyway. He reached back and grabbed the back of my neck with his free hand and pulled me in again. He forced his tongue into my mouth grunting and kissed me forcefully. I struggled to pull away but he kept me firmly locked in place. Finally he let go of my throbbing cock then pushed me face forward to the mat. Before I could react he took hold of the briefs that were stuck just above my knees and yanked them all the way off. I was naked now except for my socks. I rolled over and sat up. He was standing holding my underwear to his face.

“Yep, just like your old man… jobber.” He said tossing them aside. I growled and launched myself forward, tackling him and we both crashed to the mats in a writhing heap. We rolled and grappled crashing into boxes before struggling back the other way, arms and legs fighting for control. He had his meaty arm across my face, pulling me into his hairy chest I had my arms locked around his waist, I could taste his sweat on my lips and feel his fat cock pressing against me. I managed to gain some control so he released my head and twisted onto his stomach in an attempt to get away but I used my weight to keep him under me and I climbed higher onto his back. I snuck my arms under his shoulders lacing my fingers together at the base of his neck in a full nelson. My hard dick nestled itself between his hairy ass cheeks and I began to thrust forward with my hips. I pushed forward on his head and pulled back working the nelson. He groaned and clenched his ass but he was so sweaty after the two rounds with my Dad that my cock slid into the tight space anyway.

“Who’s getting fucked now old man?” I crowed. He didn’t answer but continued to struggle under me. I could feel him trying to power out of the nelson, using his muscle to bring his arms down and force my fingers apart but the last time we wrestled I was eighteen, I wasn’t a boy any longer and my strength was more than a match for him now. “You’re not going anywhere.” I whispered.

I rode his ass until I felt myself about to cum and then stopped not wanting this to end quite yet. Rick got wise and stopped trying to power out of the nelson; instead he raised his hands over his head and stretched out. The force I was able to exert on his neck and shoulders was greatly reduced so I let go and flipped around facing his feet instead. I sat up on his back and grabbed one of his ankles. I pulled it toward me forcing him to bend at the knee and tried to lock in a single Boston but he kicked out. He turned into me and once again we were rolling and grappling for position. We got to our knees and locked up collar and elbow, I was just as slick as he was now. We fought with our arms, chest to chest until he managed to slip his underneath mine and clamp his hands together. He pulled me into him squeezing all the air out of my lungs and crushing my ribs in a powerful bearhug. I grunted and moaned, pushed against him and struggled to break free. From our position on our knees our cocks also fought against each other. He kept the pressure up and I began to feel myself getting weaker, not only from his bearhug but also from being completely hard and ready to explode. I refused to tap though, I wanted to win so I summoned an extra reserve of strength, gritted my teeth and fought back. Using how wet we were to my advantage I managed to slide the palms of my hands like a knife between his arms and his chest, first one then the other. Once past his shoulders I was able to reach around his back and lock them together. He was now in my bearhug and I momentarily pulled him in tight and squeezed his ribs before twisting and throwing him to the mat crashing on top and knocking the air out of him. I quickly scrambled to a side position and put him in a headlock. I lifted up on his neck, crushing his face with my flexed bicep. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the black jock he had ripped off his head when he grabbed my balls. I reached out and picked it up then shoved in into his face. “What smells like jobber now old man?” I hissed, he gagged and coughed as I pushed the pouch into his mouth. “You like that taste? Not a boy anymore am I, come on admit it, I’m too much man for you now.” I was feeling pretty powerful, he was fighting to get away from me but I held him in place, proud that I was superior and loving every minute of this. My humiliation of him was cut short though when I felt myself being yanked back by Dad’s thick arm around my neck. What the hell I wondered as he dragged me off Rick.
“You’re a little too cocky for your own good son; you need to be taught a lesson.” He snarled answering my unspoken question.

I am really excited to share that after alot of rewrites, edits and polishing my first erotic wrestling novel is finally avaialble for download: DAVE & CHARLIE FATHER SON WRESTLERS. What began last year as a "keep busy pandemic" project has grown into something very special to me and I'm excited to finally share it here with my fellow wrestling fans. I have to say a big thank you to all the members who were following along, commenting and posting encouraging messages when I was origianlly sharing this story on my blog last summer, it was very motivational and greatly appreciated.

The basic story of Dave and his son Charlie sharing a passion for all things wrestling is the same but with improvements, a few extra chapters and considerably less typos, shout out to Oceanwrestler for his painstaking proof reading of the manuscript.

Since I can't wrestle, I'll write about it... This is a true story.
I am not sure when I realized I loved to wrestle. It was either watching pro wrestling on TV, pretending to hate it but covering my boner with a blanket or it was the repeated checking out of the wrestling illustrations in the wr to zz volume of the encyclopedias in the school library. Whenever it was I knew at 13 that nothing got me harder than watching 2 hot guys locking up and fighting for dominance.
My family moved to the country when I was 13, it wasn’t far outside the city but it was a big house on a country lane with only a few houses around us and lots of wooded areas in-between. That first summer I thought I was Tom Sawyer exploring the woods around the new place. I first met Chris, who was to become one of my best friends, during one of my treks. He was having a dispute with two other boys, brothers who lived not far. They were all on bikes and there was a lot of name calling and yelling going on. I watched for a bit until one of the boys, came over and asked who I was. He warned me to stay away from Chris, the kid he and his brother were yelling at, that he was an asshole who had bullied the younger one and they were going to get him. He made sure to let me know that if I didn’t side with them I would be considered an enemy as well. My personality has always been that if you tell me not to do something I am more than likely going to, I have also always been partial to the underdog SO not liking the implied threat and seeing the situation as 2 on 1 I immediately sided with the other kid in the standoff and joined in the name calling and threatening on Chris’ side. Seeing the odds even up the brothers retreated and tore off on their bikes threatening dire consequences for us both. Chris and I became fast friends from that moment on. It turned out we were the same age and he lived only a few lots down the road from me. Every day I headed over to his place and the two of us would go exploring. I now had a Huck Finn to accompany me on my expeditions into the woods. We also started having regular sleep overs. It was during one such night that I brought up the subject of wrestling. I had wanted to wrestle with Chris for a while; we were the same height and weight, both skinny and blond. All arms and legs with just the beginnings of hair on our legs and I thought he was pretty handsome. I imagined us wrestling together all the time but so far I hadn’t had the opportunity to start something. We were in his bed together laughing and telling stupid jokes, his Dad had already been in once to tell us to knock it off and go to sleep so we were whispering and I finally got up the courage to bring up wrestling. I asked him if he liked it, he said he did but it was obvious he did not have the passion for it that I did and after a few attempts to get him talking about who is favorite wrestlers were and what holds he knew I let the subject drop, disappointed but not wanting to seem weird. I knew instinctively that it wasn’t just a sport or entertainment for me and that if I pushed it too much he would think I was queer. Which of course I was but I couldn’t let anyone else know that.
At the back of Chris’s yard there was an old shed that had once been a chicken coop or something of the sort but was now empty. Part way through that summer we convinced his parents to let us take it over as our clubhouse. We spent days working on it, we decorated the walls with posters of Loni Anderson in a red bathing suit, Farrah Fawcet, sports cars and Star Wars. We made a sign for the door exclaiming that only the two of us were allowed inside (this was mostly for his little sisters benefit). We scrounged up wood were we could and built a giant bed inside. Really it was just a piece of plywood raised off the floor of the shed but we covered it with old mattress, blankets and comforters and made plans to sleep out there as often as we could. We finally finished our “renovations” one particularly hot afternoon and we put our hammers down and stretched out on our bed, proud of our handiwork and eager to test it out. We were both wearing sneakers and socks, those super short adidas shorts and tank tops, we were already super sweaty as our clubhouse did not come with ventilation, a stupid joke lead to one of us hitting the other with one of the old pillows we had scrounged up, this lead to retaliation and pretty quickly we were both up wailing away on each other with our padded weapons. It turned out that our giant bed was actually a perfect wrestling area. All the mattress and blankets made it soft and it basically took up the entire space of the shed reaching all four walls. I seized the opportunity, tossed my pillow aside and went after him. He followed suit, both of us grinning and laughing as we locked up and took each other down. We rolled around fighting for dominance, not trying to hurt one another but definitely trying to prove who was stronger as boys are inclined to do. We were so evenly matched no one was able to secure a top position. We broke apart slick with sweat and i pulled my tank top off. “Good Idea” Chris yelled as he took his shirt off as well. Somehow getting down to bare chest made it more serious and we circled, staring each other down ready to wrestle. I don’t remember the details of the fight, I do remember at one point getting above him, my chest on his back, my arms wrapped around his torso, thinking to myself I had him but then feeling my legs lift off the ground as he stood up taking me with him, flipping me over and down onto the bed. I don’t know how long we wrestled but I know it felt like heaven and I didn’t want it to stop. We wrestled or play fought a lot from then on, honestly usually initiated by me. I even managed to convince him to let me try out on him the moves pictured in the encyclopedia I was forever looking at. We remained best friends all through High School but unfortunately the wrestling stopped sometime after that. Eventually Chris and I would come out to each other but he was not interested in wrestling and so as our teens progressed he stopped allowing me to initiate our play fights. He was interested in other things though so we at least had that. I still dream of our first wrestling match in the steaming hot chicken coup though, in our shorty shorts… our adolescent muscles straining as we grappled and rolled; Tied up in duel headlocks, grunting and snarling through gritted teeth for the other one to give up. Laughing as he reversed me and sent me crashing to the bed. It is definitely one of my favorite childhood memories and even thinking about it now gets me hard.