Guysmiley's blog

I watched him strip out of his street clothes, appreciating his lean muscled look, really not bad for a 44 yo triathlon athlete. The sun was slowly going down, spreading its' stilted light through the unshaded window on the 4th floor of the Venice Beach Suites, right on the beach. Down below, all variety of individuals crossed paths on the boardwalk, some of them oblivious to the sand octopus that the artist had crafted on the sidewalk. It was fully visible from the window. The room was already prepared, mattresses on the floor, a small heater running in the corner, and overhead lights up partially. I stepped up behind and wrapped my arms around him in a bearhug. Not a full fledged hug, just one to test his tensile strength. He groaned but didn't really resist. I tightened down some ... "Oh God Oh God Oh God" ... he kept repeating over and over. I tightened a little more and he changed his tune. "Please stop. You're too strong. I don't have a chance."

"Is that what you really want me to do," I asked, but not letting go ... yet?

"Yes, please, you're too strong." I let go and he walked a short distance, flopping onto the mattresses, still moaning. I came down beside him, moving into a side control position. Chest to chest, I held him there. He wiggled and squiggled, moaned and groaned, but he didn't go anywhere. His hands rubbed up and down my arms, grasping first my bicep, then my tricep. "I've never met someone your age so hard muscled."

Not gonna lie, it felt good for this younger stud to compliment me like that. Sometimes it is hard for us to see ourselves as we really are and it takes an-others reality to bring the truth out. His hands went to my quads at this point.

"And your legs, they're like oak trees," he added.

"Wait until they're around you," I replied, slipping him into a leg scissor around his waist. Believe you me, I barely applied any pressure, probably even less than I had with my bear hug, and he was once again begging me to let him go. Once again, I asked to make sure this was what he wanted me to do and when he did, I released him. He dropped to his back, chest heaving. "You've tired me out already."

I laid back myself, asking him to get me a pillow due to a neck issue I have. He did as I asked, but as he slipped it under my head, he leaped on top, putting me in a school boy pin. He grinned down at me, delighted to have me in such a control position.

"What you gonna do now, muscle man," he asked. Without replying, I turned on the power and literally lifted his whole body in the air. As he rose he was shouting ... "no no no this can't be true" ... I tossed him to one side like so much feather weight. I then pulled him in close, snaking my arm around his throat in a rear naked choke, laying just behind his back.

"Please, no, not this," he grunted out, me barely even applying any pressure. Then I tightened my baseball hard right bicep and within seconds he would have been out had I not released the grip as swiftly as I had applied it. He kept saying over and over "Oh my god, oh my god." We lay there for a few moments, balls to butt, until we noticed the light in the room changing. We got up and went to the window to witness the final several moments of the sun dropping behind the horizon. It was beautiful from where we watched. As the day darkened, I turned and pulled him into a full nelson.

Pushing him gently along, we returned to the mattresses. I shoved him down, then lay on my back, letting him the leeway to attack me if he desired. Instead, he sat between my legs and put his hands on my stomach.

"Holy shit, you have a full six pack, you're so muscle hard." I let him play with my muscles, flexing for him, allowing him to delight himself feeling me up. By this point, we were both hard. "Will you lean over me and flex?"

We changed places as he asked and I did some simple flexes. He started wanking himself to my flexing and adding in some trash talk to go along, about how weak he was, how I could break him if I do desired and on and on. But soon, I was also in the need and being one who enjoys frottage, I dropped on top, letting my muscled body crush him underneath. Needless to say, it wasn't long before we both had cum and lay exhausted next to each other.

Clean up and some easy talk went on for a half hour or so and by then, it was time to part ways...he to pack for an early flight to Hawaii, me to head home for what remained of the evening.

He is coming back this way for a few extra days off on his return trip and I suspect we may be meeting up again. I may have to let him get me in a desired hold though to give him any sort of a chance. We'll see how it plays out.

I know everyone has experienced flakes and no shows. It seems to be a constant source of irritation no matter what fight site might be used. Well, I had a fighter that was a no show twice. Not only a no show, but basically he would drop off the face of the earth with no communication for extended periods of time. Needless to say, when he approached me about meeting up during a recent trip I had planned, I was nothing short of skeptical. In fact, I took a late flight to accommodate him and to no surprise, by the time my plane landed, there was a text that his job was taking longer than he thought and he wouldn't be able to make it that night, but would be willing to meet the next morning. I so wanted to tell him where to shove it, but honestly, he was someone I did want to meet up with, so I told him ok. To my surprise and delight, he actually showed up. Now for the fun part of this blog ... our session together.

It was a hotel match which isn't always ideal either, but my room was spacious with plenty of room to move the king size mattress to the floor and still have space to move around. I considered this much better of an option than spreading a tarp over the rug in his apartment as he had graciously offered. He stripped to his shorts right after coming into the room and he was what I expected: Tall, lean, well muscled, strong and defined abs, long striated legs, and a nice smile.

We talked through any limitations which were none for him and my neck for me. It was to be a grappling with body punches match. We didn't waste time but went straight to our knees on the mattress and started to lock up. With his height and arm length, he started trying to control me right away but I had solid defenses to thwart him. Soon I started to see the exasparation in his eyes. He finally charged in and I went to my back. He started trying to submit me with an arm bar, or figure 4, or other arm type techniques, all of which I held off until we both laid back for a break. We had already used up about 20 minutes. As we lay against each other, our chests heaving, I leaned in and kissed him. Then I punched him. That was the start of the next round.

Now it was more of what I was looking for, someone who liked to punch and could take one as well. I locked his left arm under his head held at the wrist by my left hand, his right arm under my body, his right leg held tight in a scissor. Then I used my free right fist to slug his abs. I wasn't being gentle and after about 4 punches, he asked me to stop, which I did. If you can't trust someone to honor your request, unless agreed to previously, where is the safety net. "You punch hard," was his comment as I released him. I simply smiled. He then shared how his last opponent had agreed to punching but upon receiving the first punch, called it quits. I assured him he didn't have to worry about that with me.

We kissed some more, our muscled bodies rubbing against each other. Then moved into the next competitive session. After some time, he managed to get me in a leg scissor figure 4 on my head. I fought its effectiveness for sometime, my arms entwined and stuck in between his legs. But he finally got me into a position where it cranked on my neck and I tapped. No super hero here. I know my limitations. He released me.

I immediately rolled and tossed him to his back and moved into the guard. He closed it and squeezed, but I only laughed at his attempt to scissor my abs. He was also punching me but I grabbed an arm and pulled myself forward, putting on an arm triangle on his neck. He tapped just before he would have gone out. As I let go, I punched him and we had a brief session of punching each other. Once again, he finally asked me to stop. Time for some more snuggling and kissing, a little chatting.

Much to his chagrine, as we started the next competitive section, he found himself in my closed guard. I gave a squeeze, nothing hard, just to let him feel my quads engage. "Do it," he said. I could read his mind. He was mad at my laughing at his earlier attempt. I did it. His mouth hung open in a scream that never came as he couldn't get any oxygen and I was crushing his bones to the point of bending. He tapped with both hands on my hard quads, undoubtedly feeling the hot blood under the skin which runs like hot lava. I let go and he literally collaped on my chest, gasping for air. He took a little longer to recover from this session.

I fought off a rear naked choke effectively in our next competitive session, ending it by escaping, turning, and applying a bear hug. He loosed my neck and started pounding on my back and kidney's trying to get me to release. I didn't and he tapped again. We were fast approaching the 3.5 hour mark and knew our time was running out. We shared some exotic wrestling at this point, still punching each other, hugging and squeezing, just enjoying each other's company. I wrapped my legs around him once more, only from the side this time. He asked me to squeeze which I was obliged to do ... 3 full times until he tapped me loose each time.

By the time my alarm went off, signaling our time for having the room was over. We stood, his head towering over me, but he bent for some more kissing. We dressed, I finished packing, and we walked down to the lobby together. As we parted, he asked when we would be meeting again. Now I know there won't be anymore no shows from this fellow.

A fellow in the area hit me up for a match. A little older than I usually agree to, 51, but looked in real good shape, BB type, and similar size .. only drawback was extremely hard to schedule time with: opposite schedules, live in mate, pets that needed caring for. But in the end, we made it happen last Monday.

First a gripe ... I was going to a particular area of town so I sent inquiries to half a dozen or more other fellows in the same area since I would have the evening before our match. Not one of them even had the courtesy to reply no thanks. Nothing, NADA, zilch. Frankly I find that kind of behavior rude and uncooth.

So Monday morning, there is a knock at my hotel door. Right on time, not a bad sign. I open it and welcome him in ... reading glasses hanging from a string around his neck. First meeting so I glance him up and down once. He looks just like his pictures, which is a good thing. Without warning, he pulls me in and kisses me. Nice firm lips, solid kiss, then lets go. I suggest he ditch the glasses so they don't get crushed. As we move into the room, he isn't only dropping the glasses, but every stitch of clothing as well until he is standing by the bed completely naked. It is obvious, and was even with his clothes on, that he is excited to see me. Yes, he had a full hard on. Now, understand that I was standing in only a pair of square cuts when he entered, so it is understandable ... his excitement, I mean.

He pulled me in close for some more kissing, but I used my body leverage to throw him on the king size bed, throwing myself on top in the mounted position. I leaned in and kissed him, a little frottage taking place at the same time. We're both hot and heavy already.

"Would you like me to take my shorts off," I ask between syrupy kisses?

"Uh huh," is his reply. I slide off the bed and drop them down, now also standing fully exposed. He joins me on the floor and before I know it, he has bent and is picking me up in a bear hug. I am thinking, oh fuck, here it goes ... only it isn't. I had expected a burst of power, squeezing the breath out of me, but instead, I am being held in the air but not experiencing any power. I can see in his face he is exerting himself, but it doesn't translate. He sets me down and says, "Your turn."

I look him in the eye before bending at the knees, grasping around his midsection, and lifting him. I squeeze and he practically bursts from the power I exert. And trust me when I say it isn't a very high dose of what I can bring to bear. He is arching, struggling, tries wrapping himself around me. Finally he grunts out, "OK! OK!"

I take that to mean he is submitting and put him down. We kiss some more, then move back to the bed. We're rolling around, kissing, flexing, touching ... then he rolls on top and I wrap my legs around him in a scissor. He holds my hands above my head.

"Do your worst," he says. I don't but I do squeeze and he is instantly arching back and I have also pushed up so my hands are no longer held down, putting on more pressure. "How's that," I ask?

"OK! OK! OK!" he says with great struggle. I relax but don't remove my legs from around him. "Holy shit, those quads are huge and such power. The pics you sent don't do them justice."

"They are my pride and joy," I reply. "I call them my babys." I squeeze again, same results ... I see a pattern developing.

"Let's stand back up." I agree and we start kissing and rubbing. He grabs me in another bear hug and not wanting to be rude, I groan a bit though in reality, he isn't even bothering me. He sets me down and I pick him back up and crush him until he crys out. "You are so strong."

"I warned you during our chats."

"I know, but guys say a lot of things that aren't necessarily true." I don't reply. "Are you surprised at my strength?" Oh shit, how to answer ... I don't want to hurt his feelings, I answer, "Yes." As far as it goes, it is a true answer. We spend the next couple of hours going back and forth putting on bear hugs and leg scissors. He says, "OK! OK!" each and every time and I let go.

Then he starts getting a bit rougher, which I am glad to see and feel. We're on the bed and he is trying to choke me while in the mount. I take away one of his table legs, a common wrestling terminology, and catch him in an arm triangle. I apply pressure and before he even has a chance to say OKOK or to tap, he's unconscious. I relax my grip, roll him over, and rub his chest, pushing the air to start again. He comes to in about 3-6 seconds.

"Fuck, you knocked me out. How long was I out, 5 minutes or so?" I laugh.

"No, only a few seconds."

"You're lying, it had to be at least 5 minutes."

"Is that the first time you've been knocked out?"

"Yes."

"Then that is a common misconception ... the time is much shorter than it seems."

We lay there for a few moments, he is up against my chest, one of my arms over his chest, a leg over his midsection. We lay there for awhile until he simply falls asleep. We stay that way for about a half hour. When he wakes, he looks at me questioningly.

"You fell asleep," I say.

"I felt so safe, I guess is why," was his reply. He is awake now and we start rolling around again, applying bear hugs and leg scissors. I put a leg scissor on his neck and my quads tightened down. He almost screamed except my pressure cut it off. This time he tapped on my leg and I released.

"I've never felt such strength from anybody," he says as his breathing returns to normal. We attacks me, trying to control me again. I roll him and and lock on a rear naked choke. He is out again before tapping. I bring him around.

"Holy shit, you're a beast," he says. He asks me to stand again and we kiss and do frottage while we bear hug again. Soon, it is time for him to leave to care for his pets. We both start dressing, kissing and hugging while doing so. "Next time we meet, I want you to be rougher with me. I can take anything you can hand out."

I give him a final kiss and push him out the door, urging him to hurry home to care for his pets.

Will we meet again ... hard to say. But he has texted me and said what a great time he had. One never knows, does one.

I love it when an opponent comes into an event with a confident attitude that he is gonna take the other fellow apart. The Asian Assassin, as I will call him, and I have met several times over the years. Usually we grapple some and then gut punch. This visit was limited to gut punching as I am in the recuperation stage from a knee operation. I know what you're thinking, at his age it was probably a knee replacement. You couldn't be more wrong. The surgery was necessitated due to a small tear in the cartilage of my meniscus received by an accidental kick to the side of the knee while sparring during hour 7 of a much longer test for my Krav Maga Brown Belt.

It has been just under a year since AA and I last met. In my opinion, he has the same gorgeous body he has always had though he will be the first to argue with you about his looks and muscularity. We usually start by trading punches, each person throwing two while the other stands, hands over head. Back and forth, back and forth, until one can't return the punches any longer, in essence, submitting to the other. At this point, the puncher is free to do as he pleases.

Two things I noticed right off in this session with AA. His punches were harder, more practiced, and his ab core seemed stronger. I knew this after only going back and forth a couple of times. Maybe his words written a couple of weeks prior, that he would be the one taking me down this time, weren't just trash talk. I was going to have to pick up my game if I was going to be the undefeated victor.

Now, I'm not gonna pretend his punches don't have effect, for they most certainly do. He is muscular, taller than me, weighs more, and is a body builder type. After I had taken about 10 of his combination punches, I moved in close, clinching up with him. I did this on purpose to give my front abs a chance to rest from his power. Clinched to one side, we continued delivering battering blows, but more toward the side abs, under the floating rib. Eventually, we resumed the hands over the head routinue, delivering combinations of punches. I can't help but believe that AA noticed I wasn't handling his punches as well this time around. I think I may have even seen a slight smile on his lips as he continued to bash away AND stand against my own hard punches.

I clinched in again, saying, "damn your core is so much stronger this time." Now there was a definite smile. I neglected to say anything about how much better his punches were. No need to give him an unnecessary edge. After throwing a solid barrage of blows while in the clinch, we went back to the hands over head position. I decided it was time to up the anty and I started putting more power behind my punches, aiming each blow at the same sweet spot, his solar plexus. Back and forth, back and forth, and then I heard the long awaited sound I had come to identify as the beginning of the end of his abs. A nice low, sucking in, deep felt, moan. We were still going back and forth at this point, but I knew it wouldn't be much longer before he would bend. I redoubled my efforts.

It is such a sweet feeling when your opponent finally collapses, unable to continue punching, now only set to receive. Many would stop the punching at this point, one of them submitting to the other's prowess. This isn't the case with the two of us. We continue on at this point, the puncher being the one who says when the punishment will end. Putting my left arm under his right for support, I bring on the heavy guns, upper cuts each landing in the solar plexus zone. AA is moaning constantly now. He tried to back up to lessen the impact of my punches, but I am able hold him in place by the clinch I hold on one side. A couple of more punches, these literally lifting him off his feet, and I feel his weight, his knees no longer able to support him, and he starts to go down. A lesser man might let his opponent go down. Not me, I pull him back up, continuing the upper cuts. His breathing is now stilted, my fists digging in deeper and deeper. This time when his knees collapse, I can't support his full weight and I allow him to go to the floor, laying on his back. But that isn't the end, not by a long shot. Laying close against him, I trap his right arm up under his head, my body controlling his left arm. I then continue to punch his abs with my right while he lays there trying to escape the pain. "Stop. Stop," escapes his lips. I do for brief seconds, looking at his face. His lips are pursed, his eyes closed. I punch him a couple more times. "Shit. Fuck," he gasps out. Then I stop, massaging the destroyed abs gently, his breathing returning to normal, his countenance more relaxed. But that repose doesn't last long. "Time to get back up," I say, dragging him to his feet. Time for the barrage to start again.

Using the same arm lock as before, I start delivering crippling upper cuts, this time, each lifting him clear off his feet. Soon he is cursing with every punch until his knees collapse again. I left him go down the first time but wrap him up again, delivering more blows while he is prone on the floor. His moans and groans are heartfelt but they have little effect on me. I massage a bit, then punch. Apply a claw. He drools a little as he trys to resist. I love the feel of his destroyed muscle abs. There is no resistance left. He is totally mine. After a briefer break, I drag him back up again.

Delivering more upper cuts, his breathing is labored. Finally he collapses backwards onto the couch. "No more. No more," he says in broken breaths. I drag him off the couch onto the floor. Kneeling beside him, I drop hard blows into his prone abs. He tries to curl up to stop me, but I flatten him back out, delivering some more blows. His moans are those of a man in deep pain. Now it is I who smiles as he trys to fend me off and is unable to do it. My fists dig in deeper and deeper, even adding some of my own weight behind the blow, shoving into his musculature. He is done for, completely and unadulterated. I now sit over him and flex, showing him why he has lost once again. Lets just say at this point, it is "get the rocks off" time.

I always enjoy his visits and can hardly wait until his next. By that time, I my knee should be healed and we will add grappling with punches back into the fray.