Wrestled and Wrecked by the Blonde Beast

Fuck, just spotting him there by that ornate gate got my dick straining. Brock, this blonde Viking god—freckled face, thick beard, tank hugging those massive arms and tats—standing all cocky in track pants, hands on hips like he owned the gym. Our eyes locked, that hungry smirk saying he knew I was eyeing his bulge. I’m Alex, buzzed head, full beard, inked up arms and back, already down to my black jockstrap framing my hairy ass, heart pounding as he stripped off his tank, revealing that ripped chest glistening under the lights.

He charged like a bull, slamming me onto the red wrestling mat. “Gonna pin you down, boy,” he growled, his sweaty body spooning mine from behind, one arm choking my thick neck, the other crushing my abs. Naked except our boots and jocks, skin slapping skin, his rock-hard cock grinding my crack through the straps. Shit, his musky pit scent flooded my nose, mixed with leather from his Docs, making me leak pre-cum into my pouch. I bucked playful at first, teasing, but he was pure beast—veins popping, breath hot on my ear as he humped my ass, whispering, “Feel that? That’s gonna split you.”

We rolled, grunting like animals, mats squeaking under our weight. I flipped him once, straddling his hips, my jock-bulge rubbing his, boots kicking for leverage—but nah, he powered back, grabbing my striped sock and boot, yanking my leg wide. His rough hands yanked the bootlaces, peeling it slow, teasing my socked foot while I panted, exposed. “Look at you, spreading like a slut,” he laughed, fingers digging into my thigh tat, thumb brushing my pouch where my cock throbbed, salty pre dripping out.

Then he flipped the script hard—hoisted both my legs sky-high, boots dangling, ass cheeks parting in the jock. There I was, sprawled on the mat, his massive frame between my thighs, hand pinning my ankle as he stared down at my hungry hole peeking through the fabric. Sweat dripped from his beard onto my abs, his free hand shoving his jock aside, unleashing that veiny, uncut monster—thick as my wrist, pre-cum stringing to my taint. “Beg for it,” he commanded, slapping his cock on my balls, the wet thwack echoing. I moaned like a bitch, “Fuck me raw, Brock—wreck this hole.” His tip nudged my pucker, stretching, burning sweet… but he held back, teasing the edge, my body arching desperate.

Our grunts filled the room, bodies slick and trembling—shit, reliving it has me stroking now. He leaned in, beard scratching my sack as he spat on my hole…

But little did I know, his boys were watching from the gate, cocks out, ready to join the pile-on.