tagGay MaleNaval Academy Wrestler

Naval Academy Wrestler


About fifteen years ago my wife and I were living in Annapolis, Maryland. It's a cool little coastal city that's home not only to the Maryland state capital but also to the United States Naval Academy. For us it was a good location since she worked in Washington and I worked in Baltimore. For me it offered the added benefit of putting me in the same town as my younger cousin, who at the time was a student ("midshipman" is the official term) at the naval academy.

It was always great to see him and meet his friends. I have to admit, although I never allowed myself to think of my cousin in a sexual way, it was pretty nice to have the opportunity to check out his friends, many of whom, like lots of military guys, were really good-looking.

For as long as I can remember I've always been attracted to both women and men. After some experimenting when I was younger, by the time I reached my late 20s I had decided to play it straight. Back then, especially, It just made things easier. I loved my wife and she kept me pretty busy in the bedroom, so my desire for female companionship was being nicely satisfied. Unfortunately, I still had longings for men.

One weekend when my wife was away my cousin spent the night at my place with three of his midshipman friends. Two were USNA wrestlers, including a really hot guy who had the muscular body and square-jawed face of a cartoon superhero. His name was Greg. From the moment he walked through my door I had trouble keeping my eyes off him. He had a great head of wavy brown hair and slightly crushed ears that told me he was a wrestler even before my cousin mentioned it. He was probably 5' 10". Between his muscles, his pronounced brow bones, his low forehead, and his jaw he looked like the stereotypical dumb jock but, as I discovered, was actually pretty smart. This turned me on even more.

The rules are pretty strict at the Naval Academy. Alcohol in the dorms is strictly forbidden, and unless you sign out on liberty, as my cousin and his friends had, you were required to be back before midnight. The four midshipmen planned to pre-game at my place and then walk to some nearby bars.

I was well stocked with beer. I drank with them but wasn't trying to keep up. I enjoyed the conversation, and felt especially impressed by Greg, who seemed not only intelligent but also well-read. After a while my cousin wandered into my kitchen and returned with an old bottle of Jagermeister. I had learned my lesson years earlier, but not these guys. As they proceeded to do shots I could see Greg start to fade. Maybe he'd been starving himself to cut weight for wrestling. Whatever the reason, the shots were definitely hitting him hard. At first my cousin and the other guys made fun of him, but when he started to slump over they helped him stumble to the guest room. I stood in the hallway as he stripped down to his tighty whities and they told him to rest up - they'd be back later.

My cousin invited me to follow them out to the bars, but we both knew he was just being polite. I was ten years older and would probably just slow them down. And Greg's continued presence at my place gave me an excuse: "Someone needs to check in on him."

That's what I did, but only after forcing myself to watch television for 10 minutes to make sure he was out cold. Then I sort of tip toed into the guest room. He was sprawled across the bed in his BVDs, totally out and totally on display. Greg had one of the hottest bodies I'd ever seen, and it was there for me to memorize with my eyes. Nowadays I'd snap photos with my iPhone but back then I had to just stand above the bed, absentmindedly caressing my stiffening cock through my jeans while gazing down at him.

His body was muscular and well-defined, with milky white skin and almost crimson quarter-sized nipples fringed with circles of dark-brown hair. He had a small patch of hair at the midpoint of his pecs. My eyes traced the very thin, very faint line of hair that divided his six-pack abs. Beneath his belly button, his happy trail thickened and darkened, descending seductively toward the waistband of his white briefs. These were well-worn and tight; his soft but ample cock bulged nicely underneath the thin fabric. As I gazed down at him I realized that Greg's body was nearly perfect. The only flaws were a few pink lesions on his chest and abs. I guessed they were the result of ringworm picked up when he was pressed half-naked against sweaty wrestling mats. To me, at least, this only made him hotter.

Having recorded in my mind some very detailed pictures of his body to revisit in future jerk-off sessions, I willed myself to leave him alone and walk back to the television. But a few minutes after returning to the sofa I heard the mattress creek as he got out of bed, stumbled down the hallway to the bathroom, and started to piss. He must have spent a solid three minutes emptying into the toilet all that beer and Jager. I heard him flush and then a loud bang as he collided into something. He was definitely wasted. Finally, I heard him get back in bed. I looked at the clock: it was still only 11:00. My cousin and his buddies wouldn't be back for hours. I returned to the guest room.

What I saw surprised me. Greg's briefs were on the floor just outside the guest room. He was now on top of the bed totally naked. He was flat on his back, so his plump cock was on display. It was soft but nonetheless impressive. His cock head was very large, with a broad helmet and deep indentation for his piss slit. His treasure trail descended without interruption into a neatly-trimmed nest of dark brown pubes. His balls were big, round, and basically hairless.

Standing beside the bed I froze for a long second, not really sure what to do. What if he woke up and saw me standing over him, staring at his amazing 21-year-old body? I could feel my mouth water as I took in the sight. He had his left arm raised up and his hand tucked behind his head. I looked away from his crotch long enough to admire the bulge of his bicep and the soft, straight hair in the pit of his arm.

His eyes were closed and his breathing was heavy. I couldn't tell if he was passed out cold or merely asleep. I decided that the only way to find out was to try to wake him up. At first I sort of whispered: "Greg?" No response. I raised my voice a little: "Greg." Still nothing. I planted my hand on his right shoulder and left it there for a second, admiring the warmth and firmness of his skin. I decided that, if I woke him, I'd tell him to get under the covers. But if I couldn't, if he didn't wake up, it might be worth risking it to explore him up close.

I clasped his shoulder and shook him a little. "Greg," I said. He didn't even stir. So I shook him even harder. I needed to confirm that he wasn't waking up anytime soon. I even said his name again, this time quite loudly. No reaction.

I lowered my face toward his exposed armpit. With my nose maybe an inch away, I inhaled deeply and admired Greg's scent. I smelled just a hint of sweat as well as the faint scent of Speed Stick deodorant. Almost instantly my cock was throbbing again inside my jeans. I glanced back toward Greg's face to confirm he was still passed out, then set my sites on his nipple. At first I gently touched just the tip of my tongue to his nub. His breathing continued with the same rhythm. He was out. I got more daring and slowly swirled my tongue around the perimeter of his nipple, licking at the light ring of hair that surrounded it. Finally, I gently sucked his tit between my lips. I could feel his nub hardening in my mouth.

When I released his tit and stood over him, I could see that it was not just his nipple that was getting erect. Greg's dick was now at half staff, noticeably plumper and longer as it pointed north into his pubes.

I decided to go for broke, leaning down just to touch the tip of my tongue to the tip of his dick. When my tongue made contact his erection stiffened. Soon a dollop of sweet-tasting precum oozed onto my tongue. I leaned back for a moment to get a better view of him and saw the thin stand of precum connecting my tongue and his piss slit. It glistened like a spider web before breaking and disappearing.

Greg was definitely a grower. His cock was now about six and a half hard inches. I was especially impressed by its width, which made it seem almost as muscular as its owner. And now his dick was defying gravity, jutting upwards at an angle from his crotch and hovering over his pubic hair. My eyes darted down toward his balls. Already his sac had tightened. Every few seconds his dick would twitch a little bit; it was so hard it looked almost painful.

I started to have second thoughts. What if he was merely sleeping? If he wasn't actually passed out, there'd be no way for me to give him the relief he needed without him opening his eyes. I stood up, grabbed his shoulder firmly, and gave him a good shake. "Greg!" I said. "Greg!" There was no response.

I bent down and twisted so that, while my feet remained on the floor, my hands pressed into the mattress alongside his hips. My own erection was leaking in my jeans. When I first saw Greg walk through my door, I never dreamed I'd get to suck his cock.

I extended my tongue and made contact with the base of his shaft, just above his balls. As I slowly licked upwards I felt him stiffen a bit as I my tongue traced its way to the extra-sensitive spot where his glans came together just below his piss slit. I used the tip of my tongue to press down on his dick, tracing little circles at the tip while inhaling deeply as I lowered my nose into Greg's pubes. He smelled fantastic: musky and manly and every bit the hot college jock.

I swallowed to wet my throat and opened my mouth, making sure to cover my teeth with my lips. That's when I took him into my mouth. At first I just sort of nursed on the head of his cock, sucking and swallowing and tasting his delicious precum. Then I got a bit more brave, swirling my tongue around his helmet. Then I started to really go down on him. I bobbed my head down an inch of his shaft and then pulled back up to his head. I bobbed my head down another inch and then another. I kept my tongue swirling along the underside of his dick. I wanted to coax the cum of him with not only the suction of my lips and mouth but also with my tongue. And then Greg's big, throbbing, twitching cock breached my throat. I willed myself not to gag as I pressed my nose into the thatch of his pubes.

I quickened my pace. He felt so good in my mouth and throat. I tasted the salt of his flesh and the sweetness of his precum. I savored the smell of his musk and the feeling of his cock twitching and throbbing and then, finally, fucking my throat.

That's when his hand clasped my head. I glanced up to see his eyes squinted shut as his hips pressed forward, rutting into me. "Fuck yes," he panted. Was he awake or did he think he was dreaming? Either way, he was loving what I was doing for him. He was loving the feelings I was giving him. He was panting. Then, softly, he whispered "don't stop."

I didn't. By switching back and forth between sucking Greg's cock and his balls I was able to make him last for five glorious minutes before finally he erupted in my mouth. He'd stored up a load that was both voluminous and delicious. His cum had the faint scent of bleach but the distinctive taste of honey. I swallowed it all.

When finally his cock began to soften I look back up at him. Greg's eyes were closed. I let his dick slip from my lips and stood again over the bed. I clasped his shoulder. He was still. Was he passed out once more? I shook his shoulder. Nothing. I reached into the closet, threw an old blanket over him, and wiped my lips with the back of my hand.

Late the next morning Greg, my cousin, and the other midshipmen left. Greg seemed well-rested. Everyone else was hung over. I saw everyone out and watched my cousin and his buddies pile into the car. Everyone except Greg, who turned around and walked back toward me.

"I just want to thank you for taking care of me last night."

"You're welcome, Greg," I said. "It was my pleasure."

He smiled. "The pleasure was all mine."

"Know you're always welcome to come over," I said, "whether you're with my cousin or not."

He tilted his head a bit, smiled, and leaned forward. "Don't worry," he whispered, "I'll be cumming a lot."

I absentmindedly licked my lips as I closed my front door. There wasn't much ambiguity in that conversation. It pretty much removed all doubt that he was awake and aware last night. That he knew I sucked him off. That he let me do it. That he liked it. And that he wanted to do it again.

I could hardly believe my luck. Things could have gone differently. He could have woken up and beat the shit out of me. He could have ratted me out to my cousin. Shit, he could have told my wife.

Instead, I got to explore and enjoy Greg's big, muscular body and his big, meaty cock. The facts that he was just 21 and my cousin's friend made things extra hot. The facts that he was a midshipman at the Naval Academy - and a college wrestler - made things even hotter.

As I emptied the dishwasher I let my mind wander. When did Greg wake up last night? Was it when I was bobbing up and down on his cock? Or was it earlier? I had tried calling his name and even shaking him by the shoulder. If that couldn't wake him up, then why did the feeling of my mouth around his dick have that effect? Or maybe he did wake up when I was grabbing his shoulder. But that couldn't be. If I had woken him I would have gotten a reaction. Was it possible that, before I even started to try to wake him, he was only pretending to be passed out?

I wandered into the bathroom and stripped down to take a shower. As I pulled off my boxers I remembered that after he had gone to the bathroom he had pulled off his briefs and dropped them in the hallway. Last night I hadn't given much thought to the fact that he had done that - or why. It's possible that he was just wasted and not thinking straight. Maybe he had gotten some piss on them while taking a leak in the bathroom. I was almost surprised at myself for leaving them on the floor. If I had to do it all over again, I'd pick them up and see if there was any wetness. Whatever the case, I really should have sniffed them to see if I could detect the scents of his crotch and ass. The thought made me feel more than a little bit perverted, but it also turned me on.

By the time I was standing under the warm spray of the shower my cock was erect and throbbing. I hadn't even touched it, but there was no reason to deny myself any longer. I coated my palm with my wife's hair conditioner and started to stroke myself, thinking about Greg. He sure seemed to stumble walking in and out of the bathroom last night. He even crashed into something. Was he just pretending to be that wasted? Did he make all that noise to get my attention? Is it possible he left his BVDs on the floor to bait me back into the guest room, where he laid on top of the bed, on top of the covers, only pretending to be passed out?

I dismissed the thought. I was ten years older than Greg, a college wrestler who spent a lot of time in the locker room with other college wrestlers. He also spent a lot of time in the Naval Academy barracks where no doubt there were lots of other hot guys on display. Up against that sort of competition, there was definitely nothing special about me. But then I let me eyes survey my body. For a guy in his early 30s, I was in good shape. Time in the gym pays off. I had muscular shoulders, well-defined pecs, and even a decent six-pack. My cock, a thick seven inches when hard, had earned me plenty of compliments over the years. I was a hairy guy - hairier than Greg - with a nice mat of fur on my chest and a thick treasure trail that descended from my sternum to the top of my pubes. Most of the guys I'd been with said they liked all the hair. But not all guys felt that way, and there were probably some hookups that never happened because my would-be partner saw the hair curling up over the collar of my t-shirt.

As I pumped my hand up and down on my shaft I reached with my other hand to massage my balls. I loved how it felt when I pulled down on them, slowly but firmly, as I coaxed my dick into overdrive. I then released my balls to move my hand to another erogenous zone: my ass. I soaped my crack and then started to circle my middle finger around my pucker. I pressed my digit into my hole, moving it in and out. When I felt my sphincter grip my second knuckle I started to move the tip of my finger in circles. Suddenly I was back in the bedroom, standing over Greg's naked, muscular body. I was inhaling the scent of his armpit, sucking his nipple, and tasting his precum on the tip of my tongue. I was feeling the scratch of his pubes against my nose and reveling in the musk of his crotch. Then I was swallowing his shaft, feeling it stretch my lips and then my throat. I felt his hand on my head. I felt his hips thrusting. I felt his cock thicken and stiffen and throb. Then I felt him start to cum. As I tasted him my middle finger pressed hard into my ass and my other hand beat down on my shaft. I was panting. I gasped as I erupted. I shot one, two, three, four, and then five volleys of cum. The first two shots hit the shower wall while the remaining three somehow ended up on the back of my hand. I let go of my dick and raised my first toward my lips. Extending my tongue, I licked the cum off the back of my hand, tasting it. Greg's was a little bit sweeter than mine, which had a flavor that was a little bit more difficult to describe. I guess it sort of reminded me of almonds.

After my shower I dried off and dressed, still thinking about Greg. He said he'd come back. But when? My wife was away a good bit but home a good bit more. How would I link up with him? Should I make the first move? I toyed with the idea. I went into our home office and logged onto the internet. I navigated to the USNA wrestling team's home page and scanned the roster for a "Greg." I found him, taking note of his last name. Since my cousin's e-mail address followed the format of firstname.lastname@usna.edu I figured that Greg's did, too.

That's when the phone rang. I walked into the kitchen and grabbed the receiver from the wall. "Hello?" I said.

There was a pause. Then: "Hey, it's Greg." It was him! "I looked you up in the phone book."

"I'm glad you did," I said, maybe a little too honestly. I really wasn't sure how to play this.

"Listen," he said, "I just want to thank you again for putting up with us last night."

"Like I said," I responded, "you're welcome anytime."

"Thanks," he said. I could hear him swallow, like he was gathering his thoughts. "I was wondering if you'll be around later. I have mandatory practice this afternoon, but then I was thinking I'd go for a run. I could come by your place. I have some extra tickets for a wrestling tournament we're hosting on Friday, if you're interested."

That was a nice gesture, I thought to myself. But really it was just an excuse to come over. I was hoping he wanted to see me for the same reason I wanted to see him.

"I'm definitely interested," I told him. "When do you think you'll be dropping by?"

"Is 1800 okay?" he asked, pausing, and then converting from military time: "I mean, 6?"

"That's great," I said. "I'll be making dinner. Any chance you'll be hungry? You can stay as long as you want." As soon as I said that, I worried I was coming on too strong. His reply managed both to reassure me and turn me on.

"Dinner sounds great," he said. "But it's a three-mile run to your place, so I might be kind of sweaty."

"It's just us guys," I said, "no worries."

"Good," he replied, "I really want to talk."

As I hung up, his last words echoed in my head. What, exactly, did he want to talk about?

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