Guysmiley's blog

It was our second meetup in six months. I was visiting his area and owed him a beatdown for totally crushing me during our first match. He was even kind enough to pick me up from my hosts home and drive us both to the hotel. Quite gracious, in fact. Sitting in the car, he looked pretty much the same as the first time. He was busy driving for it was literally rush hour, but I had time to sit and look him over. By the time we reached our location, I pretty much had a hard on from fantasizing about what was to come.

I followed him down the long hallway toward our room, enjoying the looks of his calves as he walked. Although he was in his clothes, I thought he looked bigger, more solid, than last time; maybe just my imagination, but then again, maybe not. By the time he locked the door, I was already stripping down to my underwear, my uniform of the day for our hotel match. I looked up to find he was also now only clad in his underwear. As I starred at him, he flexed, and I involuntarily gulped. My assessment was totally correct; he had put on muscle and hardened if that were possible. He smiled at me and headed my direction. He grabbed me in a balls to balls bearhug and lifted me. My ribs groaned audibly in his grip. Within seconds I tapped on his hard triceps before I lost consciousness from not being able to breath. He tossed me on the bed.

I wanted to hold him off but before I could move, he was on top of me in a mounted position and flexed. Holy shit, I was feeling weak in the knees at his look, so defined, so developed, his six pack showing. I ran my fingers over them as he flexed, feeling every striation. Then his quads pulled in against my sides. They held me so tight and he wasn’t even trying. I moaned and he pulled in tighter, leaning forward. I raised my hands, catching his arms by the wrists, holding him from laying straight down on me. My arms started to shake as he leaned further, putting his whole weight against my arms. His hands were rubbing up and down on my biceps and triceps as I struggled. Unable to hold him up any longer, his muscled chest sank over my face, smothering me and I tapped again. He sat up immediately, totally respectful of my tap.

My hardon was rubbing against his back. He moved into my guard and then started flexing again. In spite of my intentions to make him submit in wrestling, I found myself turned on too much and started working myself as he flexed. I was in heaven, his muscle looming above me. Before I knew it, I had shot my load on my own stomach. Always gracious, he handed me a towel. We laid next to each other for awhile, just chatting, me continuing to admire his muscles. Then suddenly, he grabbed my arm and yanked me into a leg scissor. God damn, it was like being caught in the jaws of death. Thing is, I’m sure he was barely exerting any pressure but I was instantly in pain, my ribs feeling like they might snap. We both knew he was just playing with me. As he squeezed, I yelped. He put his hand over my nose and mouth, stopping the sound. He played with me this way for a bit. I could tell he was enjoying every minute of it. My hand went down to his abs and I found he had a hard on as well. As my hand played with it, he asked me if I wanted to take care of it, or have him release on me. I chose him to release on me.

With his legs still holding me in a scissor position, he slowly began to rock me forward and back. I could feel his hardness against me. Each time he moved me, his legs tightened and I yelped, squealed, or just plain moaned. He was still gentle with me but I could feel his absolute power and control of me with his movements. His motion became more frenzied as he engorged and neared cumming. My body was being tossed like a ragdoll in his grip and there was nothing I could do but go along for the ride. When his climax hit, my breath was taken away as his quads tightened around me. It was only a matter of seconds, I’m sure, but I thought I might die in that time frame from the pressure. As he relaxed, so did his grip and my breathing started again. Thank the lord.

Of course, now I was hard again. He obliged me for a second cumming, one might say, slipping into my guard once again and flexing as I indulged myself. Two hours passed like nothing but soon enough it was time to call it a night. We cleaned up and dressed, him then driving me back to my host home. In the course of things, he even recommended someone else, another Adonis-like older man, who he thought I might enjoy a match with. I’m in the process of setting that one up for while I’m here visiting.

I wanted to send off a word of thanks for all those fellows that helped me enjoy my time in Paris and London this past couple of weeks by agreeing to have matches with me and then showing up for the same. A special word of thanks to NIWRESTLER and ANDREW21 for the extra time spent together, time which I enjoyed immensely. A great big thank you to CONGAS, who hosted me a good part of my time in Paris and went above and beyond the call of duty to make sure I had the time of my life. I look forward to future trips and what kind of meet ups they may entail. In the meantime, regardless of the outcome, always fight the good fight.

So, You’re Her New Boytoy

I should have known better than to open my front door after glancing from behind the curtain at the knock at the door. The red Chrysler 300 parked in front had been behind me on the road from the bar where I had met my girlfriend. Had I forgotten something at the bar and this was some kind soul taking the trouble of returning it to me. My mind didn’t really think so … especially in this day and age of cell phones and limited actual human interaction or contact. My hand turned the knob.

He was gazing at my flowers, seemingly distracted, only turning his head toward me at the sound of the door opening. He stood an inch or so taller than my own 5’6” and appeared built very solid, outweighing my own 145 pounds by at least 30-40 pounds. His biceps stretched the material of his shirtsleeves just ever so much, his quads amply filling the material of his beige shorts. He smiled and it was so engaging, I had trouble taking my eyes off his face, though it was many years older than my own 40 years.

“May I help you?”

“Levi?” Hearing my own name should have been a real signal, but the way he said it, well it was more of a soothing calm as opposed to a question.

“Yes …. “ The next few seconds are almost a blur as I sit here playing what followed over and over in my mind. His right shoulder hit the door even as his left hand came up and closed on the knot of the tie I still had on. His hand twisted and I was choking, being forced backwards into my own living room. The door swung shut, pushed by his foot as he entered the room. I was wheeling backwards, trying to breath, clawing at his hand on my tie, and maintain balance. The backs of my knees struck something and next thing I knew, he had shoved me into a chair. I started to get up and he hit me for the first time, a hard blow to my chest that knocked me back down.

“What do you … “ He slapped me hard enough to shut me up.

“Don’t talk and don’t move.” My mouth started to open and he slapped me again, harder. I could feel the heat of my blood rushing to my cheek. He turned and walked over to the door, locking it.

“So, you’re her new boytoy,” he said as he turned back to me. His eyes locked on mine and I felt a cold chill sweep through my body.

++++

Still dressed in the clothes I had arrived home in, he strode over to me, yanking me out of the chair by the labels of my zipper jacket. I heard some of the stitching moan.

“Hey, take it easy. This is a fairly new jacket.” His hands slid from the labels down to the bottom where the zipper was still engaged. His hands closed on the bottom of each side and he jerked hard. The zipper snapped and he tore the jacket completely open, bottom to top. My eyes opened wide at the ease with which you had just ruined my jacket, and I admit, that I felt a certain hardening down in my groin area. He started jerking the jacket down over my shoulders, turning it inside out, catching my arms as he did. The moment of amazement passed and I knew I needed to defend myself. I pressed forward, trying to force the jacket back up before it trapped my arms. That’s when he punched me in the stomach the first time. It was a hard uppercut that caught me right in the bread basket. Unprepared, my abs absorbed and swallowed his hand, filling the space where my air had previously resided. I went to my knees, my cheeks going in and out as I tried to regain my breath.

“I knew you were a punk.” Suddenly my head was jerked back as he pulled me up by the tie. I was now choking. With a quick turn of body, I was spun around and we stood back to back. He pulled on the tie with both hands and I was hoisted off the ground, my feet kicking empty air. My vocal noises must have been likened to a dog picked off the ground by his collar for some infraction. My eyes recognized I was being carried into the bedroom. My hands grabbed out at walls and corners in an attempt to stop the madness but it was all to no avail. As we passed into the bedroom, darkness was starting to encroach around the edges of my eyes. I’m pretty sure I was close to passing out when he threw me on the king size bed, my body flopping as it landed. I heard him say, “I don’t know what she sees in you,” just before I must have passed out.

++++

He was standing over me at the foot of the bed as I regained my senses. It could have been moments, or hours, I wasn’t certain at this point. He grabbed my feet and started pulling my shoes off. I tried to pull my legs back but he had a firm grip on my jeans. I heard both shoes clunk on the floor. Then he grabbed one leg of my jeans and began yanking them down.

“What the hell,” I shouted. Grabbing the belt and top of my jeans, I resisted. He alternated between legs, and despite my best efforts, my jeans were slowly and methodically pulled down until they slid off my feet. I was now only in my tie, dress shirt, t-shirt, and green colored briefs. I watched as he tossed the jeans in the corner. I didn’t know but I figured I might need to grab them fast if I saw an opportunity for escape.

His fist closed around my tie and I was yanked off the bed and to my feet. He pulled me in close, close enough to smell the minty flavor of his toothpaste. I’m pretty sure I heard him sniff me. He shook me hard, like a puppy shaking a toy back and forth in its teeth. Then he punched me in the gut again with his free hand. It was a hard punch which elicited an “oomph” sound from me.

With what seemed like little effort, he picked me up off the floor by the tie. I was choking and gurgling as he held me there for several seconds, I could see my face turning red in the mirror behind him. Then he tossed me back on the bed. I rolled as I landed, trying to get out of his reach. I lay there watching as he took off a silver bracelet from his wrist and pulled out a necklace of some sort from under his shirt, removing it from his neck. He emptied his pockets of money and some keys, putting them on my dresser. He turned to face me.

“Now for some fun,” I heard him say just before he pounced on the bed. I tried to get away, but my back was already up against the headboard. He grabbed my foot. I tried to kick myself loose but he had a grip like a bear trap. He easily pulled me toward himself with one hand. He was amazingly strong. I kept trying to connect with a kick but he easily defended my efforts. Soon enough I was pulled off the bed, landing on my back on the carpet. He put his foot against my throat, pressing down. I got both hands under his foot, pressing up, but his weight was too much for me. He raised his foot and as I sucked in air, he landed his heel hard into my abs.

“Oh shit,” I blurted out as I curled up in a fetal position, my stomach muscles already starting to burn. He reached down and grabbed me up by the tie again. I was nothing more than a rag doll in his grip. He shoved me against the wall and delivered another couple of hard upper cuts in a row, literally lifting my feet off the ground. He let go and I sank to my knees. In spite of the treatment I was receiving, I was now experiencing a raging hard on as well. My briefs were tented and he noticed.

“Maybe this is what she sees in you,” he said as he jerked me back to my feet. He rubbed my hardon, then grabbed my balls in his hand with a painful squeeze. “Or maybe you’re feeling something for me. Is that it, you’re a queer?”

I was violently shaking my head to the negative when he let go of my balls, for which I was incredibly grateful. However, had I known what was coming, I might have preferred he kept his grip. His knee came up so hard into my balls that I swear they came clear up into my throat. A small amount of gorge filled my throat and I fought hard to keep it in. He tossed me back on the bed and walked out of the room.

“Where’s the bottled water,” I heard him ask from the other room through the muffled sound of blood pounding in my head?

++++

When he reappeared, I was still laying in the same spot he’d thrown me, my legs hanging over the edge of the bed. He sucked a bottle of water dry and tossed it to the floor. He came toward me and I cringed.

“What’s the matter, boyo,” he asked? “You’re not afraid are you?” I shook my head no but I’m pretty sure my eyes betrayed me. He climbed on the bed, his hard, flexed thighs on either side of my torso. He grabbed my shirt at the collar and with one hard yank, the front buttons flew in every direction.

“She bought me that shirt,” I yelled at him, my eyes filled with anger. I took a round house swing, but he easily blocked it. He wrapped my arm at the shoulder, tucking it under his body. He grabbed my other hand, tucked it under my head, and held onto it while his free left hand starting punching me in the gut. Repeatedly the blows landed. I couldn’t get my breath. The pain was incredible. I easily lost count of the number of times he hit me, not even sure I was aware of when he stopped.

All I knew was that when he did, he rolled me first to one side, then the other, pulling my midsection in between his legs. Having wrestled a lot, I knew he had me in a leg scissor. What I didn’t know was how strong his quads were as he locked his feet and started to squeeze.

“Oh God! Oh God! Oh God! Those were the only words I could get out. My hands clasped on his hard quads, the muscle like steel bands in my grip. I could feel the heated blood just below the skin’s surface, coursing like a flow of lava as he held me. He rolled to his back, lifting me in the air above him. I could feel my ribs starting to bend. My breathing was also becoming more and more labored. I barely managed to say, “Please stop.”

His grip lessened and he laid me back down. Then he shoved me away, removing his legs. My chest rose and fell. As he sat up and scooted toward the end of the bed, he punched me hard in the gut one more time. The pain was almost what one would describe as exquisite.

“Oh fuck me,” I said, rolling to my side, hands up on my gut like they were holding my insides where they belonged.

++++

I felt like I barely had my breath back when he grabbed my leg, pulling me to the edge of the bed. Using the tie still around my neck and the collar of my torn shirt, he threw me to the floor, then immediately hauled me back to my feet. My throat felt like I was on Mister Toad’s Wild Ride at Disneyland. He threw a couple of hard punches into my gut, a back hand to my balls, and then slammed me to the bed again.
He grabbed one arm of my shirt and ripped the sleeve wide open, buttons dropping on the floor. He spun me over, slammed a fist into my left kidney, grabbed the other sleeve and did the same thing.

“You’re gonna pay for this shirt,” I said matter-of–factly.?

“You already are,” he replied. Grabbing me by the back of the collar, he hauled me up in the air, holding me there. My toes couldn’t quite touch the carpet so I swung gently too and fro. He tossed me to the floor. I tried to roll away but wasn’t quick enough. A kick caught me in the gut. Then his foot found my balls and my still raging hardon. The flat of his foot came down hard, causing me to yelp like a puppy and then he added his weight. Standing on my privates one footed, he gave a little hop and I’m pretty sure I blacked out. If I didn’t, it must have been like a drunken stupor because when I came to, I was back laying on the bed.

As soon as my eyes opened, he grabbed the tattered shirt and spun it over my head and a sleeve around my neck. Yanking back and up, my butt coming off the bed, I couldn’t breathe, was choking, and he started punching my gut again. I lost count at ten hits.

Pain wrestled for domination in my body. My arms flailed, my feet kicked, but none of it did any good until he decided to let go. I slumped, my head just off the bed. He stepped over my head, my face jammed up into his junk between his quads, and he began to squeeze again. I was immediately hearing the ocean in my ears as my own blood coursed. His squeeze was incredible and I thought my head would pop like one of those You-Tube videos of a person squeezing a watermelon between their thighs.

He finally let go and stepped off my head. Another fist to the gut and I was curled up like a baby again.

“No more, please no more.” I didn’t care if it sounded like I was begging.

“That’s for me to decide, Boyo,” he replied. I felt him grab both sleeves. With an incredible jerk in both directions, the sleeves tore from bottom to top, now tattered flags hanging from my shoulders.

++++

At this point, only my t-shirt, tie, and skivvies remained intact. He grabbed the tie and dragged me off the bed again. Holding the tie tight, just above the crown of my head, he shoved me back against the wall. I brought my hands up to protect my gut.

“Put your hands down,” he ordered. I started to but brought them back up as his fist started for my gut.

“Put them down or it’ll hurt more.” Somehow, I knew he meant it so I put them down. He slammed into my gut several times, each blow digging in deeper and deeper, feeling like he was close to being able to grab my spinal cord. As my knees started to give, the tie tightened, forcing me to stand back up. He continued this form of torture for about 15 minutes by the clock beside my bed but it felt like hours passed. Unexpectedly, his knee came up, catching me hard in the groin. Gorge once again filled my throat but went back down. His hand came up hard, clenching my balls and I screamed. The tie filled my throat, cutting off the sound. “Don’t do that again.”

I muffled my agreement, also shaking my head up and down, tears filling my eyes from the pain. He pulled the tie back out and removed it from my neck. Forcing me around to face the wall, he tied my hands behind my back. Spinning me around, he dropped me back on the bed and started working my gut over again. I was lying on my hands, plus they were tied, so I brought my knees up, trying to stem the blows. He slammed a fist into one of my quads and the muscle went into spasms. I couldn’t even raise my leg. I had heard of this condition, called a “dead leg”, but I had never had it done to me with just a punch. He threatened to punch the other leg and I lowered it. His pounding resumed and my gut turned to jelly, not able to withstand his punches in any way, shape, or form. He would change direction, hitting from different angles, but he didn’t stop until I was close to blacking out, unable to draw sufficient breath. He stopped punching me, but only long enough to wrap the shirt shreds back over my head, the sleeve again around my throat. I had no way to fend him off and soon I felt my self losing consciousness. I didn’t feel him undo the shirt sleeve or lay me out on the bed, massaging my chest to get me breathing again. When I came to, my hands were free and I was in the middle of the bed, my head on the pillows. His bulk lay next to me, one arm under my neck.

“Ah, good, you’re back with us.”

++++

His free hand caressed my punished abs, rubbing up and down in a slow, soothing motion. Every few strokes, it would touch the tip of my still swollen woodie that continued to tent my briefs. Each time he did sent a small electric shock up my spine, causing me to moan out loud. He leaned over and filled my mouth with his tongue, his lips tight against mine. I couldn’t help but kiss back in response. As we kissed for several moments, his hand continued stroking me. Even with the pain, it felt so good. One of his legs rubbed up and down on the quad he’s punched. It was like he was trying to make up for all the rough treatment.

He leaned in and started kissing me again. That’s when he punched me. It was the perfect mixture of pain and pleasure. I could hardly stand the combination of feelings that flooded me. My hard on is completely engorged, almost uncomfortable. His stroking hand moves down to my meat and encases it.

“What do we have here?” Now we’re kissing, I’m being punched, and his hand is jerking me off. I can hardly believe a man is able to put me in this sort of euphoria. “Now, let’s see if we can’t make you forget about her completely.”

++++

The End

It isn't every day that you can manage to book not one but two matches on the same day. And have them work out time wise as well. The two were kind of specialty matches, one a fellow I have met with several times, the other a newbie. The repeat fellow likes chokes, plain and simple. Both giving and taking. He's a big man, 6'2", 250 or so pounds, not in the best of shape, but still big. We shared a few pleasantries, then got down to business. We always start out grappling, going for position and control. I manage to gain the mount, then go to work to trap him in an arm triangle choke. Like I said, he's a big man, but I finally manage to lock it in by rolling toward his side. Before he knows it, he's out. Oh yes, he likes going all the way out, no tapping. And now that I have control, I don't relinquish it. I move him to his side and catch him in a rear naked choke using my right arm. After making sure he's back with me, he starts to try to resist. I flex my right bicep and he's out again. Repeat this sequence for some 40 minutes. I finally let him up and he performs a two fingered choke on me. Understand, I let him do this. He has yet to take me in a match where he is able to apply a choke. I have to let him do it. Don't want to hurt his feelings, you know. We do some more grappling and this time I apply a sweet butterfly choke, using his shirt. Soon enough, our time is up, he has to catch a plane, and after some relaxing in the hotel spa, we part ways. A good time had by all until his next trip my way.

On my way home, I have a second match set up with someone I've been trying to meet with for awhile but it's just never worked out. Like a said, a specialty kind of match. This young fellow, well, young to me, likes to fight but have his clothes ripped and stripped as doing so. He's my height, but a bit lighter. We actually started the match as a scenario and then let it run it's course. He is a strong fighter but in the end, his clothing was in tatters around the room and he was getting the worse of a gut punch session. And it wasn't what he expected where he would be held against the wall. No, I did most of it on the bed which applies a whole different set of ab muscle maintenance. Needless to say, I expect he is sore in a number of different ways today. About 4 hours later, we went next door to the hotel for some "In and Out" from the hamburger joint, then parted ways. What a good day it was, well for me, that is.

I hope to meet them both again soon.

Astroboy has been after me since we first met on this site to come down to his town for a rough matchup. Honestly, it's been since 1974 the last time I crossed that border, so though a little hesitant, I made the plunge.

Checked into the hotel, sent him the room number, then waited. He was prompt and my heart gave a little start when he knocked at the door. I opened it to find a handsome, well manicured young man at the door. "Hello, Astroboy," I said, using the name he preferred.

A few minutes of small talk, getting to know each other, then we both changed into our gear, square cuts for me, same for him but adding a matching mask with a large A on the forehead.

We moved to the mattress immediately and dropped to our knees, the starting position. We moved around, avoiding each others grip for a few moments. Then we locked up in a test of strength. Believe me when I say, Astroboy might not be the most muscular looking, but he is as strong as he says he is.

We went back and forth in the strength struggle, but eventually I got him into position for a figure four on his neck. This boy can take a lot and likes it rough but he tapped and I released as we had agreed. Back at it right away with him jumping me into a school boy pin. His weight forward on my chest, his knees on my biceps, hands locked, he had me in position for a pin. But he wasn't paying close enough attention and before he knew it, I managed to toss him back and catch him in a leg scissor, my feet crossed at his neck. A good squeeze and though he resisted, he tapped a second time.

The match went back and forth though I was the one doing most of the submitting, he the tapping. Until he caught me in an arm bar. I fought it for a good long time but he finally managed to get me in position and I tapped. After all, though it may seem like it, I'm not Superman.

I caught him in a lot of leg scissors, both neck and body, for repeated submissions. Because he wanted it rough, I probably squeezed harder than I might normally. He held up well but it was obvious my quads were too much for him for any length of time.

After a break for hydration, I grabbed him in a front bearhug, hoisting him off the floor. As I squeezed, he moaned, a sound I love. He tried to push my arms but was incapable of freeing himself. He kneed me in the leg, fighting for release. I merely applied more pressure and he tapped. As I set him down, I could feel his obvious pleasurable reaction against my front. I brought a knee up softly into his groin. He did the same to me. I shoved him down on the mattress and locked him in the school boy pin this time, reaching behind and squeezing his junk. He couldn't remove me, so he was mine to do with as I pleased. I squeezed in with my knees as well until he pleaded with me to let him up. Of course, I did as requested. He grabbed me in a head lock and swung me to my back. His grip was tight and it took a cross face to get him to release with one hand, allowing me an opportunity to wheel barrow him over my chest. I then stacked him, legs above his head until he tapped.

We went back and forth several more times, me submitting him each time. He caught me in a figure four head scissor but he wasn't able to make me tap before I caught him in one as well, mine being the stronger and he tapped. We stop again for hydration. When we got back on the mattress, he started gut punching me, another of my passions. After many punches, I let him change to round kicks. We both enjoyed this immensely but it was obvious to him just how strong my core and abs really were.

At this point, I wrapped him in bear hugs several times, just squeezing in from the sides with my arms and he did his best to hold out, but each time, he had to tap. He managed to get me in a leg scissor around the waist as well, but didn't have enough pressure to really have any effect on me. I let him try until he wore himself out. After a good 4 hours, we decided to get a bite to eat. After some good conversation over a meal, we went back to the room. We chatted a bit more and then decided that since he had an early morning appointment, we would call it a night.

As he prepared to leave, he said, "Next time I want it more rough." Oh boy, not sure he understands what he is getting into.