This is a wonderful Men of the House story submitted by Melvilleh. It sticks with Corey and his friend Jake, and fits in perfectly with the series. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did!
Corey’s Wrestling Gambit
“It looks fine. I don’t see what the big deal is.”
Corey was leaning back in a bean bag chair drinking a Coke and pretending to look very bored.
“I think maybe coach gave me the wrong size. This feels a little tight.”
Corey’s best bud and next door neighbor Jake was stretching out on the workout mat in Corey’s basement rec room. He was trying to convince his friend to lift weights with him after school since he was going to try out for the wrestling team next week. He turned around and Corey nearly spit out his soda trying to keep from laughing. The sheer wrestling uniform looked like it had been handed down for several years worth of JV squads, and it clung to him like a second skin. To make matters more, umm, obvious, Jake apparently didn't realize that most guys wear a jock under their uniform to keep their equipment in place. The yellow spandex left nothing to the imagination, and Corey could see every inch of Jake’s teen manhood from all the way across the room. Jake was scanning his reflection in the mirror and pulled uncomfortably at the fabric around his crotch. He was a handsome young man with short black hair, clear skin, and bright brown eyes. He was definitely stud material like his older brother Alex, but right now he was feeling self-conscious.
Corey eventually stopped coughing on his soda and tried to keep a straight face. “Pretty sure it’s supposed to be tight. I wouldn’t worry about it.”
Jake turned back to his friend, blushing shyly. “I’m just thinking that girls go to the matches, you know? It feels kind of revealing.”
Corey pretended to be surprised and squinted, taking in an eyeful of Jake’s bulging crotch. “I can’t really see much from over here. But maybe if you grow a bit by time the season starts…”
Jake scowled and laid down on the bench press. “Whatever, dude. Practice starts tomorrow, so you should get some reps in too.”
Corey popped a video game into the X-Box. “I changed my mind. I don’t feel like trying out. Wrestling is a pussy sport.”
Jake sat up quickly and stared at his friend incredulously. “What do you mean you don't feel like it? Wrestlers are better conditioned than any other sport. Even the lightest weight guy on the varsity team would wipe the floor with you.”
Corey’s eyes were glued to the game, like he was only half paying attention. “You couldn’t. And that uniform looks ridiculous. I didn't want to tell you before.”
“The fuck I couldn’t!” Jake stomped over and stood blocking the TV, feeling very offended. He was the star of the JV soccer team and had always been a more natural athlete than his friend. But Corey was the clever one and somehow always found a way to get him worked up or in trouble. Nevertheless, he preferred to have his best friend try out for the team with him.
“C’mon,” Jake wined, “My brother was on the team when he was in high school, I’ll show you some moves before the tryouts.”
“…” Corey was ignoring him and craning his neck to see his game.
“Corey…”
“…”
Jake grabbed the controller out of Corey’s hands and tossed it away. He stared down at his friend, who had immediately begun pouting. “Alright, let’s make a deal. We wrestle, and if I pin you in a fair…uuuuugggghhhh!”
The rest of his macho challenge was cut off as Corey’s palm lashed out and smacked the bulge in his uniform. Quick as lightening, his bare foot followed, smushing Jake’s nads and lifting him slightly up off his feet. His eyes bulged and he made a small squeaking sound in the back of his throat. Then he tumbled forward and rolled onto his side, moaning and massaging his sore testicles through the sheer singlet.
“You bitch! I said a FAIR match!” He rolled around on the floor, kicking his feet and trying to find relief for his aching jewels. He should have known Corey well enough to stay on his guard.
“Ok,” Corey said, retrieving the controller and resuming his video game. “Go see if Dylan wants to be the ref.” Jake scowled at him and grunted his agreement.
Dylan had been in his room working on homework, and at first he had been bemused by the request to ref a wrestling match between his bro and his buddy. But he decided that he could use a break, and anyway he sucked at calculus. Corey’s friend from next door seemed to be taking the whole thing a little too seriously, though. He kept going on about different kinds of holds, and he was even wearing a singlet.
“I’ve got it, I’ve got it. Corey and I used to watch wrestling on TV, no worries,” Dylan said.
Jake objected, “That’s not real wrestling. This is like in the Olympics.”
Dylan laughed and looked around the rec room comically. “This is NOT like in the Olympics.”
“How about you can wrestle how you want, and I will wrestle how I want,” Corey suggested, glancing sideways at Jake’s obvious bulge.
Jake protested and looked seriously at Dylan. “And no hits below the belt.”
Dylan raised his eyebrows, suddenly understanding why Corey’s friend wanted a referee. He loved his little bro, but Corey could be brutal when it came to other guys’ junk. Dylan’s balls contracted a little just thinking about it. As a matter of fact, he noticed that Corey’s friend was already walking gingerly and looking a little green…
“Absolutely not,” Dylan agreed. “Only a fair fight in my ring. Or mat? Or whatever this is.”
The boys faced each other, waiting for the signal. Jake’s wiry, athletic build filled out his uniform nicely, and his olive skin looked great with the school’s bright yellow colors. He was concentrating and tried to look intimidating. Corey on the other hand was slouching in jeans and a skate tee shirt, but Dylan had made him remove his shoes. His bangs fell almost over his eyes. To the casual observer he looked bored, but his alert eyes occasionally darted to his buddy’s spandex-clad groin; Jake’s manhood was clearly defined and vulnerable. Corey smiled.
On Dylan’s cue, the contestants locked arms and Corey was almost immediately tackled to the floor. As promised Jake knew a few moves and was naturally light on his feet. In a matter of seconds he had twisted Corey’s arm behind his back and pressed his face into the floor. He applied pressure to the arm trying to flip Corey for the pin. For his part Corey resisted and grunted in pain and annoyance, trying every way possible to squirm out of the hold. Eventually Dylan called a stalemate and Jake popped up to his feet looking quite pleased with himself. He pointed to the floor indicating that Corey had to start in the bottom position. Corey started on hands and knees while Jake reached around him waiting for the start. On Dylan’s command, they grappled again, Jake remaining in control and leveraging Corey back down to the mat. With his arm trapped behind him in the hold, Corey casually felt around until his fingers grazed the bulge in Jake’s singlet. He ran the palm of his hand over Jake’s warm shaft and lightly drummed his fingertips on his jewels. Jake immediately froze, sensing danger. He awkwardly untangled the hold and hopped away, tripping in the process. Corey took advantage of the situation and jumped on his back, copying the arm bar hold that had just been used on him.
Corey knew well that his brother Dylan hated to see guys take one in the balls, so there was no way that he could beat Jake his way. But if that little grope was enough to get him flustered, this was match was going to be easy regardless. He maneuvered behind his friend, who was trying to rise out the start position on his hands and knees. Dylan was staying close, so he know he had to be very subtle. Corey leaned forward, trapping one of Jakes legs and keeping him off balance. While Dylan observed from above, Corey reached down between Jake’s spread knees and positioned his arm for a lift. But before executing the move, he closed his grip loosely around his friend’s meaty balls, hefting them through the thin fabric. He never squeezed, just let Jake know that he was there. Jake felt the grip on his prized possessions and yelped, panicking and jolting to get out of the hold. In no time Corey had his shoulders pinned to the mat. Jake kicked desperately and bridged to get out while Dylan scooted around to see the pin from every angle. Corey looked down at his struggling friend and smirked; he reached back and ran his fingers slowly toward Jake’s flopping bulge to give him an appreciative squeeze, waiting for Dylan to call the pin.
Unfortunately for Corey, his strategy did not account for the adrenaline rush that his friend would get from the prospect of getting his testicles grabbed again. Jake bucked wildly and toppled out of the hold, knocking Corey to the floor before Dylan could count the pin. Jake’s wrestling instincts took over, and he leapt on top, quickly immobilizing Corey with a grapevine pin. With his head locked and his legs spread too wide for leverage, defeat was inevitable. Corey was about to give up the struggle when he felt an explosion of pain like he had never felt before. Jake had taken a page out of his friend’s book and reached back between Corey’s spread legs, pounding his fist like a hammer into the bulge in his jeans. Corey didn't know which was worse: the pain or getting beaten at his own game. The breath left his lungs and he quit resisting as his shoulders were pinned to the mat. He waited for Dylan to count the pin. But it never came.
“Hey, what the fuck, man? I said no low blows!” Dylan had seen the unfair move and angrily pulled Jake off of his brother, who was still frozen in pain. “Corey, are you ok?” Corey’s hands slowly moved to his aching groin while he heard his brother tearing into Jake.
Jake put his hands up, protesting his innocence and hoping to finish the match, but Dylan would have none of it. Corey turned to watch as Jake shrugged his shoulders and casually lifted his foot into Dylan’s crotch, his surprise attack catching him full force. He saw his brother’s shocked look, then saw the pain wash over his face as he tumbled to his knees rolled on to his back, cupping his nuts and groaning. Jake’s cocky attitude was on full display and he gloated, “Man, that was easy. If you’re gonna play, you've got to play to win.”
Jake seemed satisfied that Dylan would not interfere in the match any more and turned back to Corey to finish what he started. He saw Corey still on his hands and knees, pathetically whining about his nuts, just like his brother. What a bitch, he chuckled. What Jake did not see as he walked over was the look of outrage in Corey’s eyes. Outrage that anyone—anyone other than him, of course—would sucker kick his brother in the balls. He gathered his rage as Jake sauntered over and directed it into a massive uppercut. Corey’s punch connected with with a splat, massacring both of Jake’s defenseless balls. He could actually see, as if in slow motion, his lycra clad bulge shift and smash off his fist. Jake was stunned but remained standing on shaking legs, then he slowly bent over as the pain crashed through his guts. Corey straightened him back up and spun him around so that he was facing Dylan before driving another uppercut between his legs from behind, wrecking his balls a second time.
Jake stumbled a few steps toward where Dylan was lying, his hands slowly moving to cover his groin. He was still standing, but he was a mess. Despite his own pain, Corey found himself smiling broadly and bounced to his feet cheerfully. He walked up behind Jake and put his arm around his buddy’s shoulders. The pain had put Jake totally out of it; his eyes were glassy and his mouth hung slightly open. He swayed slightly.
“Cheaters never win, buddy.” He ran his hand down Jake’s opposite side, drumming his fingers on his hip. His hand glided over the other boy’s abs and his fingers brushed across his cock, which was resting sideways in his singlet. He traced the shaft with his thumb, and Jake responded involuntarily, his breath hitched in his throat while his cock plumped up. Jake’s equipment was no match for his older brother Dylan’s, but Corey still found it fascinating to feel up the teen stud.
“Plus I told you before not to mess with my brother. That was a cheap shot.” Corey’s exploring hand traveled south, groping Jake’s warm sac, hefting his warm testicles. Jake’s knew the danger he was in and his eyes were wide with fear, but the shots to his nuts had sent pain shooting down his legs, paralyzing him and leaving him helpless against Corey’s groping.
“You should say sorry.” Corey applied pressure, slowly grinding his nuts against one another. Jake felt sick, and his mind was blank except for the pain radiating from his groin. “You should say sorry,” Corey repeated, sharply pinching the tip of his hardening dick and bringing tears to his eyes. Jake yelped like an injured puppy and stuttered, “I’m sorry Dylan, I’m sorry I’m sorry.”
Corey pulled away and patted him on the back, smiling. Dylan was still lying on his back, looking up at the ceiling. “All good,” he said in a hoarse voice. Confirming that Dylan was still not looking at them, Corey went back to one knee behind Jake and lined him up for the knockout. Jake was swaying with this legs slightly spread, his bulge visible between the globes of his athletic ass. The uppercut was devastating, sinking into his defenseless balls and crunching them into his pelvis. The wrestler’s eyes lost focus and crossed comically, and he pitched forward, landing face down.
Fortunately for Jake, he did not face-plant into the floor, and his impact was cushioned by something soft. Unfortunately for Dylan that something soft belonged to him: Jake crashed head-first between his spread legs, effectively head butting his balls into the floor. Dylan shrieked and collapsed back against the floor as Jake’s head remained pinned to his crotch.
“Hey!” Corey clicked his tongue disapprovingly at Jake, whose head was still between Dylan’s legs. “I told you to leave him alone.” Corey pulled on Jake’s shoulder, rolling him on to his back. Dylan sighed in relief and cupped himself, closing his eyes to block out the pain. Corey gently patted him on the shoulder. “Hey Dylan.” No response. “Hey Dylan, c’mon!” The older teen opened one eye and squinted at his grinning sibling. “I’m winning! I’m willing! Will you still be the ref?” Dylan looked incredulous. Nevertheless he chuckled as Corey jumped on top of Jake and hooked his leg pro wrestling style. Despite his sore nuts, Dylan rolled on to his stomach and slapped the floor three times and announced Corey as the winner. He noticed how Jake appeared to be out of it, and raised his eyebrows questioningly.
“Don’t worry about him,” Corey said, nudging Jake with his foot. The beaten teen groaned incoherently. “He’s just a sore loser. We were just gonna play video games unless you want to wrestle some more?”
Apparently more wrestling did not sound appealing to Dylan, who limped quickly across the room and seemed eager to make his exit before his nads encountered any more accidents. “No thanks, I’ve got a ton of calculus. Don’t forget your homework, Corey.” He shut the door quickly behind him.
Corey sighed in disappointment that the fun was over. Turning around, he glanced down at Jake, who was beginning to come around but had clearly been knocked down a few pegs. “You ok?” he asked. Jake mumbled something into the carpet and Corey used his foot to roll him on to his back. The shiny singlet clung to his sweaty torso, and his semi boner was clearly outlined against his lean abs. Corey shook his head. Jake was his very best friend, but he sure could be a dumb jock sometimes. The image reminded Corey of a movie scene he had reprised with Dylan on his last birthday.
“Hey Jake, I thought of a move I still want to practice.”
“Hmm?”
“I learned it from a movie,” he explained cheerfully, grabbling the other boy’s ankles and lifting his legs off the floor.
Jake already felt very vulnerable with his legs spread and clad only in his tight singlet, but he had only a vague idea of what Corey had in mind. Then he remembered seeing his brother Alex in a similar situation. When Alex visited a few months ago, Jake thought it would be funny to solicit Corey’s help to beat him down. Corey had ended up stomping a load out of Alex’s balls, and they had high-fived when Alex creamed all over himself like a loser. Now that Jake found himself in the exact same position as his brother, he doubted it would be so funny this time. His eyes went wide and he protested in a husky voice, “Wait, Corey, don’t man!”
He barely had time to raise his hands before Corey’s bare foot crashed down, mashing his nads while pulling on his legs for extra leverage. The lycra did just enough to hold his balls in place, and each time one of his prized jewels popped out from below Corey’s heel, he shifted his foot and ground it back into his pelvis again. The pain was sickening and he was helpless even to close his legs. Corey eased eventually up but his foot remained on his junk.
Jake felt his toes wiggle on the shaft of his cock and silently prayed that he wouldn’t get hard. Unfortunately, Corey always seemed to catch him in a compromised position and try as he might, his cock thickened and tented his yellow singlet. He felt Corey’s big toe trace the underside of his shaft all the way to the tip, and his breath left him panting and shaking. Corey dug his heel back into his nuts, rolling them from his taint and over his bone, the leaden pain sapping his remaining resistance.
Fuck. His whole mind was in his groin, where every inch of his manhood was getting owned by his best friend. The damp spot at the tip of his cock spread as Corey jacked him between his toes. He remembered Corey doing that to his brother, too, and the pathetic faces that Alex made.
He opened his mouth to beg one last time just as he lost all control and his throbbing cock exploded, squirting his creamy cum all over his abs inside his singlet. The lycra was glued to his body with sweat and cum, and he twitched and writhed on the floor as Corey’s toes ran over his sensitive tip, milking every last drop.
Corey watched with interest as the last drops of cum oozed onto Jake’s abs, his bright uniform now darkened with a large sticky stain over the front. “That was rad,” he said, gently releasing his friends legs, wiping the cum from the bottom of his foot on Jake’s thigh. “Ha! You shot more than your brother Alex!” The beaten teen had his eyes tightly shut, and his cheeks were flushed. His heavy breathing slowed and returned to normal; he was totally spent.
“What do you want?” Jake asked after a few minutes. His eyes were still closed, but he knew Corey was staring at him.
“Do you want to play video games now?” Corey asked. Jake blinked and looked around as if to make sure he had heard correctly. Corey stared at him impatiently.
“Uuuhh, sure,” he replied, grimacing as he sat up. The feeling of cold jizz against his chest made him shiver. “Maybe I should take a shower first.” Corey offered a hand and pulled his friend to his feet. Jake reached down and adjusted his singlet, strangely modest despite the recent events. “Be back in a sec.”
Corey watched his buddy’s round ass as he walked to the door, limping and cupping his junk. He went back to his bean bag and turned his game back on. Their match had only been a fifteen minute delay, so he hoped they could beat the next level before dinner.
===
Corey’s Wrestling Gambit
“It looks fine. I don’t see what the big deal is.”
Corey was leaning back in a bean bag chair drinking a Coke and pretending to look very bored.
“I think maybe coach gave me the wrong size. This feels a little tight.”
Corey’s best bud and next door neighbor Jake was stretching out on the workout mat in Corey’s basement rec room. He was trying to convince his friend to lift weights with him after school since he was going to try out for the wrestling team next week. He turned around and Corey nearly spit out his soda trying to keep from laughing. The sheer wrestling uniform looked like it had been handed down for several years worth of JV squads, and it clung to him like a second skin. To make matters more, umm, obvious, Jake apparently didn't realize that most guys wear a jock under their uniform to keep their equipment in place. The yellow spandex left nothing to the imagination, and Corey could see every inch of Jake’s teen manhood from all the way across the room. Jake was scanning his reflection in the mirror and pulled uncomfortably at the fabric around his crotch. He was a handsome young man with short black hair, clear skin, and bright brown eyes. He was definitely stud material like his older brother Alex, but right now he was feeling self-conscious.
Corey eventually stopped coughing on his soda and tried to keep a straight face. “Pretty sure it’s supposed to be tight. I wouldn’t worry about it.”
Jake turned back to his friend, blushing shyly. “I’m just thinking that girls go to the matches, you know? It feels kind of revealing.”
Corey pretended to be surprised and squinted, taking in an eyeful of Jake’s bulging crotch. “I can’t really see much from over here. But maybe if you grow a bit by time the season starts…”
Jake scowled and laid down on the bench press. “Whatever, dude. Practice starts tomorrow, so you should get some reps in too.”
Corey popped a video game into the X-Box. “I changed my mind. I don’t feel like trying out. Wrestling is a pussy sport.”
Jake sat up quickly and stared at his friend incredulously. “What do you mean you don't feel like it? Wrestlers are better conditioned than any other sport. Even the lightest weight guy on the varsity team would wipe the floor with you.”
Corey’s eyes were glued to the game, like he was only half paying attention. “You couldn’t. And that uniform looks ridiculous. I didn't want to tell you before.”
“The fuck I couldn’t!” Jake stomped over and stood blocking the TV, feeling very offended. He was the star of the JV soccer team and had always been a more natural athlete than his friend. But Corey was the clever one and somehow always found a way to get him worked up or in trouble. Nevertheless, he preferred to have his best friend try out for the team with him.
“C’mon,” Jake wined, “My brother was on the team when he was in high school, I’ll show you some moves before the tryouts.”
“…” Corey was ignoring him and craning his neck to see his game.
“Corey…”
“…”
Jake grabbed the controller out of Corey’s hands and tossed it away. He stared down at his friend, who had immediately begun pouting. “Alright, let’s make a deal. We wrestle, and if I pin you in a fair…uuuuugggghhhh!”
The rest of his macho challenge was cut off as Corey’s palm lashed out and smacked the bulge in his uniform. Quick as lightening, his bare foot followed, smushing Jake’s nads and lifting him slightly up off his feet. His eyes bulged and he made a small squeaking sound in the back of his throat. Then he tumbled forward and rolled onto his side, moaning and massaging his sore testicles through the sheer singlet.
“You bitch! I said a FAIR match!” He rolled around on the floor, kicking his feet and trying to find relief for his aching jewels. He should have known Corey well enough to stay on his guard.
“Ok,” Corey said, retrieving the controller and resuming his video game. “Go see if Dylan wants to be the ref.” Jake scowled at him and grunted his agreement.
===
Dylan had been in his room working on homework, and at first he had been bemused by the request to ref a wrestling match between his bro and his buddy. But he decided that he could use a break, and anyway he sucked at calculus. Corey’s friend from next door seemed to be taking the whole thing a little too seriously, though. He kept going on about different kinds of holds, and he was even wearing a singlet.
“I’ve got it, I’ve got it. Corey and I used to watch wrestling on TV, no worries,” Dylan said.
Jake objected, “That’s not real wrestling. This is like in the Olympics.”
Dylan laughed and looked around the rec room comically. “This is NOT like in the Olympics.”
“How about you can wrestle how you want, and I will wrestle how I want,” Corey suggested, glancing sideways at Jake’s obvious bulge.
Jake protested and looked seriously at Dylan. “And no hits below the belt.”
Dylan raised his eyebrows, suddenly understanding why Corey’s friend wanted a referee. He loved his little bro, but Corey could be brutal when it came to other guys’ junk. Dylan’s balls contracted a little just thinking about it. As a matter of fact, he noticed that Corey’s friend was already walking gingerly and looking a little green…
“Absolutely not,” Dylan agreed. “Only a fair fight in my ring. Or mat? Or whatever this is.”
===
The boys faced each other, waiting for the signal. Jake’s wiry, athletic build filled out his uniform nicely, and his olive skin looked great with the school’s bright yellow colors. He was concentrating and tried to look intimidating. Corey on the other hand was slouching in jeans and a skate tee shirt, but Dylan had made him remove his shoes. His bangs fell almost over his eyes. To the casual observer he looked bored, but his alert eyes occasionally darted to his buddy’s spandex-clad groin; Jake’s manhood was clearly defined and vulnerable. Corey smiled.
On Dylan’s cue, the contestants locked arms and Corey was almost immediately tackled to the floor. As promised Jake knew a few moves and was naturally light on his feet. In a matter of seconds he had twisted Corey’s arm behind his back and pressed his face into the floor. He applied pressure to the arm trying to flip Corey for the pin. For his part Corey resisted and grunted in pain and annoyance, trying every way possible to squirm out of the hold. Eventually Dylan called a stalemate and Jake popped up to his feet looking quite pleased with himself. He pointed to the floor indicating that Corey had to start in the bottom position. Corey started on hands and knees while Jake reached around him waiting for the start. On Dylan’s command, they grappled again, Jake remaining in control and leveraging Corey back down to the mat. With his arm trapped behind him in the hold, Corey casually felt around until his fingers grazed the bulge in Jake’s singlet. He ran the palm of his hand over Jake’s warm shaft and lightly drummed his fingertips on his jewels. Jake immediately froze, sensing danger. He awkwardly untangled the hold and hopped away, tripping in the process. Corey took advantage of the situation and jumped on his back, copying the arm bar hold that had just been used on him.
Corey knew well that his brother Dylan hated to see guys take one in the balls, so there was no way that he could beat Jake his way. But if that little grope was enough to get him flustered, this was match was going to be easy regardless. He maneuvered behind his friend, who was trying to rise out the start position on his hands and knees. Dylan was staying close, so he know he had to be very subtle. Corey leaned forward, trapping one of Jakes legs and keeping him off balance. While Dylan observed from above, Corey reached down between Jake’s spread knees and positioned his arm for a lift. But before executing the move, he closed his grip loosely around his friend’s meaty balls, hefting them through the thin fabric. He never squeezed, just let Jake know that he was there. Jake felt the grip on his prized possessions and yelped, panicking and jolting to get out of the hold. In no time Corey had his shoulders pinned to the mat. Jake kicked desperately and bridged to get out while Dylan scooted around to see the pin from every angle. Corey looked down at his struggling friend and smirked; he reached back and ran his fingers slowly toward Jake’s flopping bulge to give him an appreciative squeeze, waiting for Dylan to call the pin.
Unfortunately for Corey, his strategy did not account for the adrenaline rush that his friend would get from the prospect of getting his testicles grabbed again. Jake bucked wildly and toppled out of the hold, knocking Corey to the floor before Dylan could count the pin. Jake’s wrestling instincts took over, and he leapt on top, quickly immobilizing Corey with a grapevine pin. With his head locked and his legs spread too wide for leverage, defeat was inevitable. Corey was about to give up the struggle when he felt an explosion of pain like he had never felt before. Jake had taken a page out of his friend’s book and reached back between Corey’s spread legs, pounding his fist like a hammer into the bulge in his jeans. Corey didn't know which was worse: the pain or getting beaten at his own game. The breath left his lungs and he quit resisting as his shoulders were pinned to the mat. He waited for Dylan to count the pin. But it never came.
===
“Hey, what the fuck, man? I said no low blows!” Dylan had seen the unfair move and angrily pulled Jake off of his brother, who was still frozen in pain. “Corey, are you ok?” Corey’s hands slowly moved to his aching groin while he heard his brother tearing into Jake.
Jake put his hands up, protesting his innocence and hoping to finish the match, but Dylan would have none of it. Corey turned to watch as Jake shrugged his shoulders and casually lifted his foot into Dylan’s crotch, his surprise attack catching him full force. He saw his brother’s shocked look, then saw the pain wash over his face as he tumbled to his knees rolled on to his back, cupping his nuts and groaning. Jake’s cocky attitude was on full display and he gloated, “Man, that was easy. If you’re gonna play, you've got to play to win.”
Jake seemed satisfied that Dylan would not interfere in the match any more and turned back to Corey to finish what he started. He saw Corey still on his hands and knees, pathetically whining about his nuts, just like his brother. What a bitch, he chuckled. What Jake did not see as he walked over was the look of outrage in Corey’s eyes. Outrage that anyone—anyone other than him, of course—would sucker kick his brother in the balls. He gathered his rage as Jake sauntered over and directed it into a massive uppercut. Corey’s punch connected with with a splat, massacring both of Jake’s defenseless balls. He could actually see, as if in slow motion, his lycra clad bulge shift and smash off his fist. Jake was stunned but remained standing on shaking legs, then he slowly bent over as the pain crashed through his guts. Corey straightened him back up and spun him around so that he was facing Dylan before driving another uppercut between his legs from behind, wrecking his balls a second time.
Jake stumbled a few steps toward where Dylan was lying, his hands slowly moving to cover his groin. He was still standing, but he was a mess. Despite his own pain, Corey found himself smiling broadly and bounced to his feet cheerfully. He walked up behind Jake and put his arm around his buddy’s shoulders. The pain had put Jake totally out of it; his eyes were glassy and his mouth hung slightly open. He swayed slightly.
“Cheaters never win, buddy.” He ran his hand down Jake’s opposite side, drumming his fingers on his hip. His hand glided over the other boy’s abs and his fingers brushed across his cock, which was resting sideways in his singlet. He traced the shaft with his thumb, and Jake responded involuntarily, his breath hitched in his throat while his cock plumped up. Jake’s equipment was no match for his older brother Dylan’s, but Corey still found it fascinating to feel up the teen stud.
“Plus I told you before not to mess with my brother. That was a cheap shot.” Corey’s exploring hand traveled south, groping Jake’s warm sac, hefting his warm testicles. Jake’s knew the danger he was in and his eyes were wide with fear, but the shots to his nuts had sent pain shooting down his legs, paralyzing him and leaving him helpless against Corey’s groping.
“You should say sorry.” Corey applied pressure, slowly grinding his nuts against one another. Jake felt sick, and his mind was blank except for the pain radiating from his groin. “You should say sorry,” Corey repeated, sharply pinching the tip of his hardening dick and bringing tears to his eyes. Jake yelped like an injured puppy and stuttered, “I’m sorry Dylan, I’m sorry I’m sorry.”
Corey pulled away and patted him on the back, smiling. Dylan was still lying on his back, looking up at the ceiling. “All good,” he said in a hoarse voice. Confirming that Dylan was still not looking at them, Corey went back to one knee behind Jake and lined him up for the knockout. Jake was swaying with this legs slightly spread, his bulge visible between the globes of his athletic ass. The uppercut was devastating, sinking into his defenseless balls and crunching them into his pelvis. The wrestler’s eyes lost focus and crossed comically, and he pitched forward, landing face down.
Fortunately for Jake, he did not face-plant into the floor, and his impact was cushioned by something soft. Unfortunately for Dylan that something soft belonged to him: Jake crashed head-first between his spread legs, effectively head butting his balls into the floor. Dylan shrieked and collapsed back against the floor as Jake’s head remained pinned to his crotch.
“Hey!” Corey clicked his tongue disapprovingly at Jake, whose head was still between Dylan’s legs. “I told you to leave him alone.” Corey pulled on Jake’s shoulder, rolling him on to his back. Dylan sighed in relief and cupped himself, closing his eyes to block out the pain. Corey gently patted him on the shoulder. “Hey Dylan.” No response. “Hey Dylan, c’mon!” The older teen opened one eye and squinted at his grinning sibling. “I’m winning! I’m willing! Will you still be the ref?” Dylan looked incredulous. Nevertheless he chuckled as Corey jumped on top of Jake and hooked his leg pro wrestling style. Despite his sore nuts, Dylan rolled on to his stomach and slapped the floor three times and announced Corey as the winner. He noticed how Jake appeared to be out of it, and raised his eyebrows questioningly.
“Don’t worry about him,” Corey said, nudging Jake with his foot. The beaten teen groaned incoherently. “He’s just a sore loser. We were just gonna play video games unless you want to wrestle some more?”
Apparently more wrestling did not sound appealing to Dylan, who limped quickly across the room and seemed eager to make his exit before his nads encountered any more accidents. “No thanks, I’ve got a ton of calculus. Don’t forget your homework, Corey.” He shut the door quickly behind him.
Corey sighed in disappointment that the fun was over. Turning around, he glanced down at Jake, who was beginning to come around but had clearly been knocked down a few pegs. “You ok?” he asked. Jake mumbled something into the carpet and Corey used his foot to roll him on to his back. The shiny singlet clung to his sweaty torso, and his semi boner was clearly outlined against his lean abs. Corey shook his head. Jake was his very best friend, but he sure could be a dumb jock sometimes. The image reminded Corey of a movie scene he had reprised with Dylan on his last birthday.
“Hey Jake, I thought of a move I still want to practice.”
“Hmm?”
“I learned it from a movie,” he explained cheerfully, grabbling the other boy’s ankles and lifting his legs off the floor.
Jake already felt very vulnerable with his legs spread and clad only in his tight singlet, but he had only a vague idea of what Corey had in mind. Then he remembered seeing his brother Alex in a similar situation. When Alex visited a few months ago, Jake thought it would be funny to solicit Corey’s help to beat him down. Corey had ended up stomping a load out of Alex’s balls, and they had high-fived when Alex creamed all over himself like a loser. Now that Jake found himself in the exact same position as his brother, he doubted it would be so funny this time. His eyes went wide and he protested in a husky voice, “Wait, Corey, don’t man!”
He barely had time to raise his hands before Corey’s bare foot crashed down, mashing his nads while pulling on his legs for extra leverage. The lycra did just enough to hold his balls in place, and each time one of his prized jewels popped out from below Corey’s heel, he shifted his foot and ground it back into his pelvis again. The pain was sickening and he was helpless even to close his legs. Corey eased eventually up but his foot remained on his junk.
Jake felt his toes wiggle on the shaft of his cock and silently prayed that he wouldn’t get hard. Unfortunately, Corey always seemed to catch him in a compromised position and try as he might, his cock thickened and tented his yellow singlet. He felt Corey’s big toe trace the underside of his shaft all the way to the tip, and his breath left him panting and shaking. Corey dug his heel back into his nuts, rolling them from his taint and over his bone, the leaden pain sapping his remaining resistance.
Fuck. His whole mind was in his groin, where every inch of his manhood was getting owned by his best friend. The damp spot at the tip of his cock spread as Corey jacked him between his toes. He remembered Corey doing that to his brother, too, and the pathetic faces that Alex made.
He opened his mouth to beg one last time just as he lost all control and his throbbing cock exploded, squirting his creamy cum all over his abs inside his singlet. The lycra was glued to his body with sweat and cum, and he twitched and writhed on the floor as Corey’s toes ran over his sensitive tip, milking every last drop.
Corey watched with interest as the last drops of cum oozed onto Jake’s abs, his bright uniform now darkened with a large sticky stain over the front. “That was rad,” he said, gently releasing his friends legs, wiping the cum from the bottom of his foot on Jake’s thigh. “Ha! You shot more than your brother Alex!” The beaten teen had his eyes tightly shut, and his cheeks were flushed. His heavy breathing slowed and returned to normal; he was totally spent.
“What do you want?” Jake asked after a few minutes. His eyes were still closed, but he knew Corey was staring at him.
“Do you want to play video games now?” Corey asked. Jake blinked and looked around as if to make sure he had heard correctly. Corey stared at him impatiently.
“Uuuhh, sure,” he replied, grimacing as he sat up. The feeling of cold jizz against his chest made him shiver. “Maybe I should take a shower first.” Corey offered a hand and pulled his friend to his feet. Jake reached down and adjusted his singlet, strangely modest despite the recent events. “Be back in a sec.”
Corey watched his buddy’s round ass as he walked to the door, limping and cupping his junk. He went back to his bean bag and turned his game back on. Their match had only been a fifteen minute delay, so he hoped they could beat the next level before dinner.
- Jake in his wrestling singlet. -
