JiminQueens2's blog

“Wrestling!” came a voice from the crowd.

“Yeah, wrestling ONLY!” came another. “No punching!”

The chant went up: “WREST-LING! WREST-LING! WREST-LING!” Jesse was a little surprised – none of the bar patrons shied away from rough contact. But maybe it’s because it’s me and Brian, he thought, and they want to help me out.

Brian strode over to Jesse and got in his face. “You really don’t want to do this, little man,” he growled, his breath stinking of beer and whatever cheap shit he’d had for dinner that night.

Jesse noted that, while Brian always seemed larger than life and the biggest man in the room, chest to chest they were almost exactly the same height and build, with massive muscles built from long hours with the weights. He started to feel better about his decision to get into the cage with this man.

“I’m not afraid of you, dipshit,” he growled back. “If you’re too much of a pussy to fight me, the door’s behind me. But if you’re man enough to do this, then let’s do this. I’ve had enough of your bullshit to last a fucking lifetime.”

A look of pure surprise passed over Brian’s face; Jesse realized that probably no one had ever talked to him like that before. But before Brian could respond, or more likely throw a punch, Mike was, shockingly enough, in the cage with them, forcing his body between them so that both men had to take a step backwards. “We have a wrestling match!” he announced, “but to what finish?”

Half of the room shouted “Submission!” and half shouted “Pin!”, and it went back and forth while Jesse was trying to decide how where he’d hit Brian first. But just as the controversy died down, one lone voice yelled “PENETRATION!”

Jesse turned sharply in the direction of the voice, but there was no sign to tell who had said it. Brian looked to be just as shocked, one of the few times Jesse could remember the two of them agreeing on anything. But the crowd apparently loved the idea, because the chant of “PE-NE-TRA-TION! PE-NE-TRA-TION!” began to echo throughout the bar.

Mike raised his hand for silence, and surprisingly he got it. “Well, if the boys are going to wrestle THAT way…” he said, “we need to see what they’re going to work with. Drop your pants, you two!”

Jesse stared at Mike in disbelief, but then he thought, Well, what did I think I was going to wrestle in? He quickly undid his jeans and let them drop to the floor, then pulled off his shirt. Something had told him to wear his favorite black jockstrap tonight, and the crowd certainly approved, judging from the whistles and cheers.

Brian did not look happy, but with Jesse standing there in just a jockstrap and ready to wrestle, he obviously wasn’t about to back down. He grabbed his shirt in a two-handed grip and literally tore it off his body, letting the rags drop down to the floor, then unbuckled his belt and swung it in the air a few times, looking directly at Jesse the whole time. The implication was clear but Jesse wasn’t even remotely intimidated, and Jesse shot him a look of pure, unvarnished contempt.

Even wanting to kick Brian’s ass, Jesse had to admit that he liked the view. Brian had big, burly shoulders and a massive chest, with a nice bear belly underneath it – no six pack, but solid muscle covered by that nice covering of fur. Jesse found himself comparing the other man’s body with his own, and realized with a start that, except for the color of the fur, their bodies were pretty much identical. Physically, at least, they were evenly matched.

Brian frowned when he didn’t get the result he wanted. He tossed the belt into a corner, followed by his boots and socks. He unbuckled his jeans and let them drop to the floor, revealing a black jockstrap that matched Jesse’s. He kicked the jeans to the corner and stood there, bouncing on the balls of his feet, clearly ready to wrestle.

“You bulls must have been psychic,” Mike said into the mat, to uproarious (and disproportionate, Jesse thought) laughter from the men in the bar. “Here are the rules: wrestling with body punches and kicks and anything else you can think of, nothing to the face, no holds barred, no holes barred! But the only way to win…get your junk in the other man’s ass! No pins, no submissions!”

“Fine,” Brian growled.

“Fine,” Jesse said calmly.

“All right, then, gentlemen—to your corners!” They hadn’t been assigned any, but Brian and Jesse backed into opposite corners, neither one of which was near the door. Mike moved to the door, saying, “When I’m out of the cage – come out fighting!”

They didn’t wait. Mike had just opened the door of the cage when the two men bears charged each other, and as he scampered outside and slammed the cage door shut, they locked up in a collar and elbow. They strained and pushed, first one man pushing the other backwards, then the reverse. The muscles in their arms and back bulged as they tried to establish their early dominance over each other.

They broke the collar and elbow and stepped back. Jesse came in for another collar and elbow, and Brian looked as if he was going for it, too—but at the last minute, his hands dropped, his right hand clenched into a fist, and he drove it deep into Jesse’s middle. Jesse wasn’t prepared for a gut punch and he doubled over, gasping and his eyes watering. Brian clasped both his hands together and brought them down hard on the back of Jesse’s neck, and Jesse hit the floor, seeing stars.

Jesse got up on his hands and knees – a big mistake, because it let Brian let loose with a savage kick that caught him in the stomach and sent him rolling across the floor, holding his middle and groaning in pain. Brian followed just as Jesse got up his hands and knees again. Brian drew his foot back for another kick, but this time Jesse was ready. His hands shot out and grabbed the ankle above Brian’s planted foot, and he pulled with all of his strength. Brian’s bare foot slid across the floor and he tumbled down, and Jesse leaped on top of him.