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“Jerry, that’s fucking offensive.” said Marcus as he pressed a towel to his forehead. He pulled his tank top over him, and balled it into his locker. He slammed the door, and turned. He pressed his back against the metal, crossing his arms as he stared at his friend.
Jerry scoffed, and let out a laugh. “What’s wrong, cupcake? Afraid I might be right? You’re a dandy. You’re too soft. You’d never beat me,” he said, opening his locker. His pin-up girl-legs spread and fingers diving deep-greeted him. He smirked, and kissed the poster before undressing. He pulled his shirt off, and dropped his basketball shorts. He pulled his jock strap off, and snapped the band, sending it flying at Marcus. Marcus stepped to the left, and wriggled his nose.
“That’s disgusting, dude. Seriously.”
Jerry smirked as he slipped his boxers over his waist, and chuckled again. “Oh really? Thought you’d be familiar with eating jock straps, all things considered.”
Marcus’ nostrils flared, and he crossed the locker room. Jerry, aware the room was quiet aside from the coming foot falls, turned towards Marcus. His muscles, tired from lifting, twitched and tensed. He coiled, and held firm as Marcus came close.
Marcus jabbed a finger against Jerry’s chest, and said “You. Me. Right now, right here. Greco-Roman. Got it?”
Jerry rolled his eyes, but didn’t slacken his frame. He turned towards his locker, and dug for a clean shirt.
“You’re out of your fucking gourd, cup cake. Besides, we need mats. What’re we gonna do if one of us slips on the tiles? Bleed the fuck out? Eh?”
His locker door slammed in his face, and Marcus gripped his shoulder, slinging him around. Jerry looked at Marcus-a friend, despite his puffing red face-and grit his jaw.
“Don’t. Call me. Cupcake.” said Marcus, exhaling each word. Jerry’s muscles twitched, and he gave a nod. Marcus pulled away, and returned to his locker. He opened a it up, and looked over his shoulder.
“The weight room is completely unoccupied, and has mats. That is, if you’re unafraid of wrestling with a dandy, you biggoted fuck.”
“Marcus, listen man-“
Marcus lifted and slung his duffle bage over his shoulder, and turned towards Jerry. He jabbed a finger in the air, and said “No, you fucking listen. I came out to you first man. You, my best fucking friend. Do you realize what that means? Do you?”
“Marcu-” casino oyna started Jerry.
“No, don’t fucking ‘Marcus’ me. Ever since I fucking told you, it’s ‘cup cake this’, and ‘dandy boy’ that. I’m gay, Jerry. I get it. I eat jock straps and I have a limp wrist, la dee da. But if you’re so confidant that being straight makes you a part of some master race, then be in the weight room in ten. Otherwise? Don’t fucking talk to me. Ever. Got it?”
Jerry stared across the room. He eyed his friend, and saw the sweat on his brow. His tensed muscles. The veins in Marcus’s temples throbbing.
Then he grinned, and slammed his locker close.
“Alright then Marcus. Ya’ can’t take a joke, then I’ll take you up on it. And when I beat you, we’ll agree this was all a big fucking farce, and go back to the way things were. You got your dander up, and I’m going to lay it down. ‘Bout time you had a good ass whooping, if you ask me. Weight room in ten?” he said with a smile.
Marcus didn’t answer him. He turned, and walked towards the locker room exit, the door slamming behind him. Jerry just laughed, and laughed. Later, when he composed himself, he checked his watch and walked towards the door whistling.
The weight room looked empty as Jerry entered, with the equipment on the racks and mats laid out in a neat square. A few feet from the door, it closed behind him. He turned to find Marcus had been standing, waiting. Marcus turned, and set the lock in the door.
“What the hell kind of set up is this, Marcus?” said Jerry.
Marcus ignored him, and pulled his shirt over his head. He leaned up, and draped it over the slim window within the door. He then turned to Jerry, and pulled his shorts away. He kicked them into a corner, cock smacking against his thigh as he walked towards the mat. Jerry held up his hands, and backed towards the door.
“Whoa, whoa whoa. Hold the fucking phone man.”
Marcus turned, and smirked. His hands met his hips, and he chuckled.
“True Greco-Roman wrestling was done in the nude. Don’t tell me mister straight and narrow is offended by nudity too.”
Jerry scoffed. He muttered a curse under his breath, and began to undress. He threw his clothes on the opposite side of the room, and steps towards the mat. Marcus looked down, and smiled as he assumed a stance.
“Nice cock, Jerry.”
“Shut slot oyna the fuck up. One fall. That’s all it takes, got it?” said Jerry. Marcus gave him a nod, and Jerry lowered himself into a similar stance.
“On the count of three. One, two, and go.” said Jerry. Their arms met. Jerry braced his legs, and grabbed Marcus’s shoulders. Marcus grit his jaw, and grunted as he slipped from Jerry’s grip. With his knuckles around Jerry’s wrist, Marcus side steps, sweeping his foot in front of Jerry’s ankle as he pushed forward.
The mat rushing to his face, Jerry closes his eyes and smacks across the mat. He kicked his legs and flailed, reaching back as he gripped at empty air. Marcus let’s out a laugh, stradling Jerry’s waist as he sinks his weight atop the man.
“Alright, fuck. You made your point. Now get off me. This is getting weird,” said Jerry, still wiggling and writhing as Marcus lowers his head beside his face. Marcus shifted, and kept a knee against Jerry’s back as he lowers a hand between Jerry’s thighs.
“Oh, no. Not yet. I’m going to prove you wrong for good, Jerry. That’s what I’m going to do.”
Jerry’s eyes shot open. His legs kick madly, and he clenches his thighs, but Marcus’s hand is too strong. As he grips Jerry’s cock, Jerry lets out a grunt, trying to wiggle away.
“What the fuck, Marcus. Get the fuck off of me!”
But Marcus only laughed. His hand pumped Jerry’s cock, which twitches and thickens in his grip. Sweat poured down Jerry’s face as he relented, his face falling to the mat as Marcus tugged deeper. Marcus brings his hand up and spits upon it, and returned between Jerry’s thighs, the slick curvature of his palm making Jerry moan and grunt.
“See there? Not so bad, is it?” said Marcus. Jerry panted, and turned his head to look at the man. His voice breaks as he speaks.
“T-t-this ain’t fucking right, man.”
“Oh, I dunno. You seem to be enjoying yourself.” said Marcus, chuckling as he shifted and gripped Jerry’s balls, massaging them gently.
“I-I ain’t fucking gay, man.”
Marcus laughed at the protest, and shifts yet again, his knees hard in Jerry’s back as he spits, slathering his cock. He parts Jerry’s ass, and fits his member between it. Marcus bucked, and the veins of his cock throbbed against Jerry’s rim. The big man grips Jerry’s wrists, and pinned them against the mat as he brought his canlı casino siteleri head cheek to cheek with his friend.
“What is it you so called ‘straight’ boys say? It’s only gay if we kiss? Well fucker, you ain’t puckered up yet. And I ain’t finished.”
Jerry’s face blanched, and he eyed his friend.
“The hell are you talking about Marcus? This has gone on far enough.”
Marcus gave Jerry a twisted smile, and rose. Jerry feels the girth between his cheeks pull back, and in a moment’s reprieve, he fooled himself into thinking it was over.
That was before Marcus slammed his girth deeply into them, their balls slapping against one another as Jerry screamed. Marcus kept Jerry pinned, the head of his cock reaching deep as it pressed against Jerry’s prostate. He took no mercy in those moments, and bred Jerry as Jerry had done dozens of others throughout the years. Jerry bit into his lip so hard it drew blood, and looked up at the clock. He watched the minute hand tick by in what seemed like hours.
And all the while, Jerry’s cock quivered and throbbed. Cum sputtered from his tip as Marcus began to buck even harder, and as Marcus grunted and pulled his arms back, Jerry tried his best to hold his orgasm back.
But it was to no avail. Marcus filled his ass with seed, and Jerry came, their loads coating the mat between his thighs. Marcus exhaled deeply. His chest heaved as he pulled out of his friend, and wiped his dripping tip against Jerry’s ass. He falls beside him, and for the first time, Jerry inhaled deeply, his nostrils full of sweat, cum and musk.
He turned to Marcus, his voice weak as he spoke in a near whisper.
“Well,” gasped Marcus as he rubbed his eyes. “Guess you’re the cup cake now, eh?”
Jerry turned, and laid on his back as he and Marcus stared at the ceiling. The lights blinded both men, and Jerry raised his hand to his face, and rubbed his eyes.
“…same time tomorrow?”
Marcus turned, and looked at his friend, his eyes wide as he cleared his throat.
“I uh, yeah. Sure. If that’s what you want.”
Jerry sat up, and turned towards his friend. His ass was sticky as his body moved, and his cheeks tinged as he gave a nod and a smile.
“Yeah, I do. That was…nice, actually.”
Marcus rose, and laughed. He crossed the room, and picked up his clothes. He wiped himself off, and crossed the room. He tossed Jerry his clothes, and went towards the door.
“See you tomorrow, cup cake.” he said.
“You too, Marcus. You too.”
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