I didn't sleep that evening. How could I? All I could do was toss and turn in my bed and think about Randy. I knew I was falling for him and I also knew what an incredible mistake it was to fall in love with the man so quickly. Sure -- we had been intimate -- for the sake of a wrestling match. I had been just as "intimate" with plenty of other guys and never grew attached to them as anything more than opponents. I was certain these feelings were just because I was feeling bad about my recent break-up, or because I was lonely and in a new area, or maybe because Randy was sexy but also had qualities that most other guys I had wrestled didn't possess.
I lay there in my bed trying everything I could to clear my mind and go to sleep. I watched television, read a book, I even stripped myself naked and spread out across my bed rubbing my cock and fantasizing that it was Randy -- but I stopped myself before I unloaded -- I wanted to have a decent showing in case Randy was able to take the title from me tomorrow night.
The night went on and finally the sun was illuminating the sky and I was just as restless and exhausted as when I had gone to bed. I toyed with the idea of calling in sick to work but I decided against it -- not a good impression to make when I had only been there a few weeks. So I showered and shaved and dressed and as I was getting ready to walk out the door my cell phone began to ring. It was Randy. My heart sank -- afraid he was going to cancel our match this evening -- even though it might have been for the best considering how exhausted I was going to be.
I picked up the phone and said hello and he said "would you like to meet me for lunch this afternoon?" I wondered what this meeting was going to be about but I just said I would meet him and later that afternoon I was seated across from him picking at a hearts of endive salad with an unsweetened iced tea I hadn't even touched. Our conversation was civil -- at best. We asked each other how our days were going and he told me I looked like I wasn't feeling well, which was the truth.
"We can postpone tonight, if you don't feel up to it?" I could tell he was disappointed at the idea of putting off tonight but I could also tell that he sincerely would be okay to wait. I shook my head and said I just needed some sleep and I would be fine. I was heading home after lunch anyway -- a half a day was better than nothing -- and I would be "ready to go" for seven o'clock.
We picked at our food a little more and there was no conversation at all until he put his fork down and said "I need to tell you something."
"Fuck" I thought. "Here it comes. Some terrible revelation that would probably make me despise him." I braced myself and waited for his admission but he casually sipped his iced tea and said "when we wrestle tonight, I want it to be the greatest match you and I have ever had."
"Okay," I said. "No pressure on either one of us."
"What I mean is, I want to do whatever we want to do. I don't care what it is. Anything you've ever wanted to do in a match but were afraid to ask because you thought it might be too weird or because your opponent told you 'absolutely no way.'"
I'll admit -- I've had some strange requests over the years. Some of my opponents have had some very unusual "kinks" when it came to their fighting. There was the guy who wanted to wrestle with knives -- not prop knives or plastic toys -- real, sharp, lethal knives. I politely told him where he could stick his knife and never contacted him again. There was the guy who wanted to tie the loser up and defecate all over him. I told him I was all out of rope and ended that conversation quickly. There was even a guy who wanted to wrestle wearing nothing but pantyhose. I had even considered that one -- it seemed harmless and I wondered if it might be kind of arousing (albeit a little strange) but when he insisted that his wife was going to watch us and that she wanted to keep the pantyhose we wore ... it got a little too weird for me to agree with.
I looked at Randy and said "what kind of things are you talking about?"
"Like costumes ... or props ... or setting up a scene between the two of us to play out. Whatever you want to do. So long as it doesn't break our rule of no injuries or pain -- I want you to know that I would be willing to try it."
I couldn't think of anything to say so I took my iced tea and drank some of it, hoping Randy wouldn't realize that I was stalling.
"Or we don't have to do anything ... I just wanted to suggest it in case you ..."
I cut him off mid-sentence with "do you have something to suggest?"
He smiles at me. "Well ... I have this Tarzan loincloth that I've been dying to wear!"
"You didn't have to ask my permission to wear a loincloth," I said as I tried not to fantasize about his body wearing nothing but a loincloth -- but I could not clear the image from my head and as a result my cock, knowing a good thing, started to grow hard.
"I have a costume I'd like you to wear, if you would?" he asked.
"A gorilla suit?" I asked and he laughed, almost choking on his food. He swallowed and said "no! It's a special kind of underwear. I think it's called a "sock" or something. It has a waistband and just wraps around your cock and balls."
"Real easy to take off of me, I guess?"
"I forgot to mention that my loincloth doesn't have anything underneath it -- just two flaps that barely cover my front and backside."
My cock was swelling now. I wasn't going to be able to stand up for a while so it was a good thing we were still eating. He swallowed some iced tea and took a breath before he said "and ... finally ... since tonight is such an important match for both of us -- I'd like there to be stakes."
"Stakes? What kind of stakes?" I asked.
"Well ..." he was about to speak when our sexy twenty-three year old waiter came over to ask if we wanted anything else. He was wearing a small apron in front of his pants and I wanted to remember to ask Randy if his loincloth was smaller than that. We both smiled and said "no" and he walked away.
"Yes," Randy said.
"Yes?" I asked.
