ginger-kicks:

s i l v e r – l i n i n g

“Take your time, catch your breath.”
“I hate this stupid chastity cage. I don’t want to wait another week. I’m ready to do this now.”
“You were probably ready to go last week. I mean, you’re at the top of your game. You’re one of the top in the sport-”
“I am the top. In this region, anyway. Will be East Coast champ soon enough.”
I smile. “Yes. I am confident of that you will be. Your training and patience will pay off. And you know you need the hormones. The release once you win will be extasy. It’s worth the wait.”

Tom punches the bag hard. The muscles in his arm bulge. “Just a week seems like an eternity.”

I step behind him and massage his shoulders, although they’re slick with sweat, trying to get him to release some of the tension. “You’ll feel better after we have sex tonight. You always leak a lot overnight, and if you don’t, we can try some tactics to help you drain a little more if you need it.”
He exhales. “Yeah, that would probably help. Feeling a little sore from how full my balls are.”
“Oh the problems of a virile young man and his big swingin’ nuts.”
He chuffs out his noise. “I am a brute aren’t I?’
“You’re an athlete,” I correct. “A refined and talented athlete. Wrestling is a classic human sport isn’t it? Perhaps the purest there is. No other sport so elegantly shows off the full capacity of the body.”
“There is something about wrestling naked,” Tom says almost to himself. “Something primitivize and amazing.”
“I wish you could see yourself wrestle. You look beautiful. You know, people come up to me the entire night and tell me what a specimen you are. Sometimes I think if I told them to buy you, they actually would.”
That makes him laugh. “Sold like a show pony?”
“Well, sports players are traded aren’t they?” I lean into his ear. “Imagine if all the wrestlers in this league were owned by their trainers….traded like a commodity, housed like dogs, inspected like horses.  You’d just be muscular sex machines for us to use for sport and fuck for our entertainment.”
“Oh shit,” he replies in a husky voice. 
“Your cock enslaved to me as much as your body.”
Tom pushes his ass back against me; I can feel him trembling. “Oh, you’re – you’re getting hard.”
“You make me hard,” I murmur.” I pull his body against mine.
“Can we just – like, right here?” Tom pleads. 
“Take your gloves off, I can fuck you over the wrestling bench.”
“Fuck, that’s a good idea.” Tom sheds his gloves and his shorts. He’s been leaking and his thighs are glistening. Nearly causes me to blow my load. 
“That’s it stud, right there. Oh hell yeah.” I pick up the oil I use to make his skin shiny. “Gonna give you the relief we both need right now.”
“Just – gah.” Tom curses. “Don’t make me cum. Just leak. Need the hormones to fight better.” He bends over the bench and puts his hands on it, ass out.
“That, Tom. That is the attitude of a winner. And winners get cock.” I toss my shorts aside and stride over to take his hole and fill it with my seed.

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Captions are fictional.