Gallery 667
Stories with a Climax -- Part 1

 
Blue-Eyed Arabian Stallion

These stories are from a former website called "Wrestlers of Kalos" where an artist named Kenobi sketched out and described his erotic wrestling fantasies:



The guy was my type. Tall, lean and sensual. His hair was close-cropped and brown, and sexy down covered his chest. But his big blue eyes took my breath away. As he passed our eyes met and I shouted “Howdy, I’m Ty,” and he grinned and said “Hi, my name is Scott.”

Each evening the eight volunteers would gather in the gym, in the basement of the main house, to work out until we had pumped up. Then we would be paired off for erotic wrestling matches, four matches each evening. Naturally, the doctor and his entourage would be in attendance and they expected climactic results.

We slipped out of our tunics and met in the center of the room. My hardon was already obvious and Zhangbing smiled, a wonderful warm smile. He was about my age, shorter but stockily built, with broad shoulders and a tiny waist. He was handsome, his skin was silky smooth, and he was extremely sexy.

His back was to me, and I took advantage of the opportunity. I picked him up in a bearhug and started to squeeze.

Zhangbing struggled, half-heartedly if you must know, for a couple of minutes, until he was hot and his thong was bulging, man; and we were covered in sweat, horny as hell. Then he fell to his knees, and though I expected to control him he suddenly came alive. I don’t really remember how I wound up on my back with Zhangbing completely dominating me. It happened so fast, and he was so strong. He was really good at ground wrestling, and now he had me on the mat, where he wanted me. I do remember how erotic those moments were, how I looked up at the ceiling and watched Zhangbing’s muscles working, how I began to have marvelous surges of sexual urgency, how I groaned until I couldn’t hold back. “I’m gonna’ cum,” I said.
On the second night I was picked to wrestle in match number four and my opponent was the guy who rode the Arabian. Yeah! I was going to get my hands on Scott. We had all learned on the previous evening that Scott was the middleweight boxing champion at UCLA.

Sure enough, he began circling me with fists at the ready. I had never really learned to box and wasn’t prepared for what happened next.

Scott waded in and drove me into a corner, landing several blows to my midsection. I tried to clinch but could not slow him down, and an uppercut came from nowhere and caught me just below the sternum.
“Come on punk,” he said, “hit me.” All that I remember is winding up and smashing my fist into Scott’s solar plexus, just above the navel. The fist penetrated, and I regretted it, especially when an “Oooooofff!’ broke the silence and he went to his knees.

I went down with him and secured a firm scissors around his hips. “Are you okay, man?” I whispered, apologetically. “That was great,” he moaned. To my amazement, his cock had become as hard as his fists. I opened the thong and the crowd roared, and I began hammering his abs until I knew he was ready to climax.

Night number three. When my name was called, Dr. Farley said: “Ty, your opponent tonight will be the lad from Australia.” Barry, a young body builder and avid wrestler, stepped forward and removed his tunic. Then he struck a pose which appealed greatly to the audience.

What a body! My erection was monumental by the time he finished posing and flexing. I wanted to be dominated by him!

He waited for me to make the first move so I took him to the mat, too easily if you want the truth. He whispered, “I love wrestling”. And then he smiled as I scissored his shoulders and ripped off his thong. For at least three minutes I kept him locked in the scissors and worked on his cock until he lost his load, quietly, still smiling.
A beautiful young cowboy from Brazil, Ricardo was slender and other than some facial hair was smooth, his skin like soft velvet and honey brown in color. I went after him, roughed him up if you want to know the truth. When I got him on the mat I secured a nelson and got him to submit before either of us got extremely hard.


In my fifth match, another dry run so to speak, I drew Matt, a big-name model from upper New York state. Matt had long hair and a furry chest, a Tarzan type and totally sexy.  When he decided to take it to the mat I surprised him with a great leg split and worked it until he couldn’t take it any more. Just as his big cock began oozing he grabbed it and jacked off.

Match number six, my last of the trial heats, was with a tall Texan by the name of Chance. This cowboy was lean and lanky and hung. We had a horny session from one wall of the room to another and then I ripped off his thong, got him into a full nelson and a body scissors, and pumped up the pressure.


It was tight, man, and he finally stopped struggling. We both looked up toward the mirrored ceiling and watched his big dong spasm, and then drops of precum began to roll down the shaft until it glistened in the silver light. “Aw, shit, man,” he said, “I can’t take anymore.” And he shot a load from the big gun moments later.


And that was just the first week, for crap’s sake!
Then it was my turn to go up against Abdul. This guy was one horny bastard, rock hard in every match. He was the son of a Saudi sheik and was interested in stallions as well as goodlooking men. Abdul was tall, dark and handsome; he sported a sexy beard and was hairy all over; and his blue eyes were mysterious, deep and hypnotic.

He was truly a human stallion, a blue-eyed Arabian stallion. As I approached Abdul in a sort of daze he just picked me up in a sensuous bearhug. His muscular arms were crushing my ribs, my hard cock was stuck in the groove between his hairy pectorals, and I was completely dominated, ready to climax.


In a wild display of strength and dexterity Abdul threw my shoulders to the mat and held me in a vertical position of subjugation. He grabbed my cock and ruthlessly attempted to strip it while I was upended.


I was completely turned on and for one moment wanted to give it up. And Abdul was coming on so strong that I didn’t really think that I had a chance. He was a powerful wrestler and he was determined to win.

We were in the corner of the room and suddenly my back was to the wall. Abdul scissored my right leg and grabbed my left ankle, putting me into a painful split, and then began pounding my cock with his own big dong.

I knew that my only chance was to avoid being dominated, to attack and control Abdul until he was overwhelmed by the heat of the battle. Using every muscle in my body I escaped that hold and rolled him into a body scissors.

Despite the oil and the sweat I was able to maintain the scissors for what seemed an eternity. His boner was breathtaking and I had to stop looking at it.

Out of the blue an idea crossed my brain: what if I used raw passion to seduce him? I pulled out of the scissors but stayed behind him, and as he got to his knees, I pulled his head back and planted a big kiss on his sensual lips. I whispered, “Fuck me, Abdul.”


It was a calculated gamble but it worked. The Arabian stallion was so hot that his cock began oozing cum. I whispered again, seductively, “I’m all yours, Abdul.”



I rolled over and he moved in, sliding up between my thighs; but I kept my legs together and when he positioned himself, I scissored his cock. “The winner and champion stud is Ty, the greatest climax wrestler of all time,” Dr. Farley shouted, lifting my arm in the air. The crowd roared, “Stallion! Stallion! Stallion!”

The End

Jackaroo Blue
A hush fell over the crowd as the two young jackeroos stripped. More perfect specimens had rarely been seen in this part of the world. In fact, the cowboys were uneasy when they looked upon so much masculine beauty, and for one moment they were apprehensive: men are not supposed to be so beautiful, some of them thought.

As for the battlers, Matt and Jock eyed one another with something like adulation, and they seemed anxious for the bell. They bolted from their corners when it sounded and began the stalking dance of gladiators. Jock attacked with lefts and rights to Matt’s head.

When Jock hammered Matt with three successive one-two punches to the body, Matt was reeling from the blows and he didn’t see the haymaker coming. A walloping left connected with Matt’s jaw and he went sprawling.

Matt was on his feet, and in a whip-stitch Jock was being lifted and slammed to the tarp.


The wind went out of Jock’s sails as his back hit hard ground and Matt was all over him like a fly on shit.

The crowd watched Matt punish Jock in a ruthless full-nelson for an agonizing three minutes.


If time had not run out Jock’s neck may have been permanently out of joint because the nelson was devastating.
When Jock answered the bell he was rubbing his bruised neck, and he wasn’t ready for Matt’s uppercut to his diaphragm. Jock doubled over and Matt picked him up like a rag doll, then hoisted him over one shoulder. The crowd moaned when the terrible backbreaker went on for over sixty seconds.
When Matt dumped him, Jock landed on one shoulder and rolled onto his back. The fighter seemed doomed as Matt easily slipped Jock into a tangled stretch and began pounding his pectorals and ribcage.

At last the five minute round ended and again Jock’s seconds helped him to his feet. They tried to cool him off for the next round but he was breathing hard when the bell sounded.

As he met the confident Matt in the center of the arena, Jock was staggered by a left hook and then a right cross and he dropped to his knees. He reached out desperately and his hand slipped into Matt’s waistband. In an instant the buttons popped, Matt’s underbritches flopped open, and his penis met the light of day.

Jock began hammering Matt with every punch in his championship book. And Jock was ready to follow up when Matt went down: he sprawled on top of him and continued to pummel the hapless wrestler on the ground.


The round seemed an eternity, with Matt trying to fend off blows and Jock landing most of them. Matt’s seconds rushed to his side when the bell sounded, and as he limped to his corner the underbritches fell to his ankles.

They circled and then came together, eyes aglow and smiles upon their lips, and everyone was surprised when the boxer took the wrestler into a mighty bearhug and Matt did not resist. Jock squeezed and Matt grunted, and they did it again and again, until sweat poured down Jock’s back and from Matt’s chin.

Jock didn’t take his opponent to the mat and finish him. Instead, he released Matt and the fighters stood toe to toe and nose to nose. Two enormous hardons came into view and a great sound, like a sigh, emanated from the crowd.
Jock began massaging Matt’s abs and stroking his groin. His right hand slid in sweat until it found Matt’s hefty muscle.  Matt was writhing in the embrace and both of the men were uttering orgasmic sounds of ecstatic pleasure.
A great roar went up from the station mates who had crowded in around the jackeroos. They saw Matt and Jock in a new kind of wrestling hold.


The End


The Champions of Lolo Springs

“One thing for sure, Kid was out of his weight class. He tipped the scales at about 180. McClary was a bruiser, 225 or 230, and when they circled in the grassy arena I remembered thinkin’ that Kid was in for a whippin’. When they tangled Kid reached with his right arm to get a grip on McClary’s neck but in a flash he was in a hammerlock. McClary had one hand under the Kid’s chin and started yankin’, and I just couldn’t look anymore, afraid for the Kid."

“I’ll tell ya’, the Kid was in trouble right from the start. McClary was the strongest man I ever seen, and in a whip-stitch he threw the Kid to the ground. Kid’s face was in the dirt and McClary was all over him, working the hammerlock ‘til Kid moaned, and I feared his arm would get broken. It lasted for too long, that kind of punishment, and I wanted to throw in the towel."

“But somehow Kid made it to his knees. He was still all knotted up in McClary’s big muscular arms but he had slipped the hammerlock. Now it became another test of strength and Kid was losing this one, too. He seemed unable to break out of it and McClary was laughing and making crude remarks, like maybe Kid should wrestle some squaw instead of Broken Arm’s champ."
“McClary intended to finish the Kid in a headlock, choke him ‘til he dropped, and I saw it coming. His big arm encircled Kid’s neck, and I knew if the guy got him in a strangle-hold the Kid was a goner. Just as McClary began to really lock it on, Kid reached for the big bruiser’s bicep. Kid fought back with all his might and the smile disappeared from McClary’s face."
“The Kid came alive! He broke away and threw McClary over his left shoulder. As his back hit the grass and Kid’s legs wrapped around his neck, McClary began writhing and gasping for air. There was a look of desperation on the big man’s face and I knew then that Kid was gonna’ win."
“Kid threw McClary again, turning him over in the grass; and then Kid was on top, torturing the bastard in a devastating clutch. McClary shouted ‘You’re breaking my neck, you little prick!' And Kid could have snapped it if he had wanted, but he just held the big galoot in that hold ‘til McClary groaned, ‘You win! You win!’"

"His name was Kaneo, ‘Path to High Mountain,’ and he was the champion of the tribe and he was magnificent.  When Broken Arm gave a signal from the sidelines the fighters began to circle, and then Kaneo charged. He hit the Kid like a runaway buffalo and they landed in a heap."

“Kid was really stunned, I could tell. He had been hit in the breadbasket by Kaneo’s knee and it took the wind out of him. Kaneo had him in a headlock and was doing a pretty good job of choking the Kid. The Nez Perce were hootin’ and hollerin’, and our boys were all shoutin’ at Kid, and for some moments we figured that the Indian would put our champ to sleep."

“Then all of a sudden Kaneo jumped to his feet and danced around the Kid. This was the Indian style of wrestling, take a man down and see if he could get up.

"I hollered, ‘Get up, Kid, get up!’ And about that time Kid had it figured out, too, and he got to his feet. But Kaneo was waiting for him. He locked on a full nelson and it was then that I noticed that the Kid was beginning to really enjoy the match."
“The nelson was powerful and it drove Kid to his knees, and then he was all the way down with his neck bones about to pop. Didn’t seem to affect his cock though, as it were standing up stiff as a Kentucky stallion’s on a Spring day."
“Kaneo let out a war-whoop and threw the Kid face down in the grass, jumped up and stood over the Kid once again. But this time the Kid was ready for him. He grabbed Kaneo’s ankle and upended him, and in a flash had him on the ground. When Kid hooked him into a scissors Kaneo was flat on his back, and as Kid tightened the hold we watched it happen, for lo and behold! Kaneo’s rod was jumping up ‘til it was fully erect."
"I began to think that Kid was a sure winner because he had it all over Kaneo at ground wrestling and he really poured it on for several minutes, using his legs and stretching the Indian’s frame unmercifully. And some of the fight went out of Kaneo as his boner got big and stiff. For one moment he seemed on the verge of an orgasm, his cock oozing and twitching, his grunts and groans loud and urgent."

"As Kid rolled Kaneo into another body scissors, his cock slipped into view and for several minutes we watched them struggle and sweat, ‘til they was real horny. And now we knew for sure that Kid and Kaneo were different than other men. Maybe I suspected it about Kid, back in Kentuck, when he passed up many a pretty gal and hung out with the boys. But for the first time he was rolling around naked with someone just as beautiful as himself and he was pretty darned excited, I’ll tell you. Kid’s eyes were big and wide and he was lookin’ straight into Kaneo’s eyes and I could only imagine how this fight would end."

"Like a wildcat Kaneo broke Kid’s hold and leaped to his feet, ran like the wind around the circular arena, and then knocked Kid for a loop with a diving tackle. Kid was good at the ground wrestling and he gave Kaneo a beating in all kinds of holds; but Kaneo always escaped, leapt to his feet, did another war dance and charged again, knocking the Kid flat, time after time. Whenever they tied up, both became aroused again and up would come those big cocks. It was something to see."

"Kid was really done in and he wasn’t putting up much of a fight. The action slowed with Kaneo on top and Kid spread-eagled beneath him. Then Kaneo began to grind his crotch against Kid’s, slowly at first, then faster and faster.

"Kid and Kaneo were groaning, then they were whispering to one another, and then they were moaning again. At last it was over. I’m sure they shot their loads because they held one another for a long time, all of the pent-up desire for conflict and climax released at last. Then Kaneo got up and stood over the Kid. Kid did not move. Kaneo raised one arm and pointed his closed fist to the sky."
"When McClary received the challenge he laughed. ‘Well now, ain’t that somethin’, the Injun wants me to kill him with my bare hands.’ When someone warned him that since he had lost to the Kid and then Kaneo had whipped the Kid, maybe he would be the one to get killed tomorrow. McClary said: ‘I broke a couple of the Indian’s ribs the other day and I’ll break a few more today.'"

"Kaneo charged, screaming a battle cry and ready to die but wanting revenge. The big white man stood his ground and when Kaneo leapt McClary caught him in his arms and we knew at once that this was the beginning of the end."
“It was painful to see. The bearhug was crushing Kaneo’s broken ribs but he tried not to scream. For several agonizing minutes McClary squeezed the ribcage until Kaneo stopped struggling, and then he let him go. Kaneo staggered away and the big bruiser went after him. Those big arms wrapped around Kaneo from behind and the torment went on."
"McClary was the meanest man I ever met. He held Kaneo in a stretch and began pounding those ribs until Kaneo could no longer stifle the screams. Suddenly, I was horrified, ‘cause I began to picture how the fight would end, and I knew that the brute would show no mercy."

"As Kaneo fell to the ground McClary wrapped his legs around the busted ribs and pulled one wrist and one leg until Kaneo began to moan in agony. The scissors lasted an eternity, ‘til Kaneo stopped moving and we feared he had passed out."

“The Nez Perce began to moan in unison. They saw their champion on the brink of disaster. And when McClary pulled Kaneo up and over one knee, and went back to pounding those broken ribs again, the Indians closed their eyes and began a mournful dirge."

“The brutal onslaught continued. In an act of cruel bravado McClary stripped the breechcloth from Kaneo’s waist and aimed a blow at his crotch.

“It was almost over. McClary dropped him and Kaneo fell heavily to the ground."
“It was almost over. McClary dropped him and Kaneo fell heavily to the ground. Wracked with pain and barely conscious, Kaneo struggled to his knees. McClary moved in behind him. Kaneo’s head was clamped between the big thighs as MClary grasped it in both hands. I averted my eyes. A great sobbing filled the clearing. The Nez Perce champion was forced to submit.”


The End