The GreenMount Chronicles Interlude: Wrestlers II
#13 of The Greenmount Chronicles
Ok here comes some more. Remember, I wrote these when I was in my late teens!
The GreenMount Chronicles, Interlude (Between 9 and 10) "Wrestlers, II"
Over two hundred pounds of muscle each. Wolf and cougar. Wrestler guys.
The wolf wore only a pair of black shorts, which clung to his heavily muscled body. From the waist up, his frame expanded in a V shape, all the way to his shoulders. He was literally wider than some guys are tall.
He was sitting on a workout bench in the college gym. It was full of large-bodied males pumping their muscles, but none as large as himself.
Except the cougar, of course. His best friend, inseperable even in masturbation, the massive feline was just as large. He was similarly dressed, in shorts and shoes. Recently his shoes had begun to wear away, so one day he simply chopped off the ends of the sneakers, as well as the heel. So the front half of his feet were bare -- from the sole to the toes, as were the heels. He wore no singlet today, but instead a football jersey -- the only kind of shirt which didn't stretch to its maximum across the expanse of his body.
Girls stared at him. Guys stared at him. He could have had as much pussy as he wanted, but, improbably enough, he didn't want much. What he enjoyed most was sitting on the bed with his wolf roommate, putting a porno in the VCR and passing the vaseline back and forth as they jerked off for hours on end.
They never touched each other -- they weren't fags, after all -- but they could relate on a level they couldn't find with anyone else. His wolf roommate knew every part of him, just as he knew every part of his roommate. They were like the same guy, just in two different bodies.
The wolf was lifting a barbell in one hand, his bicep like a furry cannonball, fur frayed out slightly. Cords of muscle in his forearm tensed as he lifted it. His dark eyes were intent, concentrating.
Below this weight, on the bench itself, an enormous shaft lay along his thigh, making a visible bulge in his tight shorts. The tip of it poked out, covered in a furry sheath. Only a tiny spot of pink skin showed at the tip, with a small trail of precum oozing out. Working out turned him on. Flexing his muscles turned him on. Being stared at turned him on. He was fucking hot, and he knew it.
The cougar watched all this with a kind of satisfaction. He knew that if the situation were reversed, he would feel the same way. Aroused, male, fucking hard and pumped. He was wearing shorts, but unlike the wolf, his were spandex. Biking shorts. He wore them because they clung to his body like paint, and he knew anyone who looked behind him was checking out the hard globes of his butt.
"Gettin' bigger everyday," he said to the wolf.
The lupine didn't look up. "You know it," he replied, doing another bicep curl.
"You gonna be up to wrestling when you're done?"
"Fuck yeah."
"Then a shower?"
"Uh huh. What else?"
"Return of Bikini Babe Aliens From the D-Cup Universe."
"Prime jerk-off material. You got the lube?"
"'Course."
"Meet you up there in twenty minutes."
The cougar turned and left.