I was nearing the end of the fourth group lesson on self-defense techniques at the store-front gym under the instruction of a heavily muscled Syrian wrestler named Anwar, when he took me aside and, after telling me he thought I'd make a natural wrestler, asked me if I'd like to stay after class and have him demonstrate some holds to me. I had admired his massive build—a bodybuilder's barrel chest, huge arm and leg muscles, bulbous but firm butt, and tiny waist—and, although I was pretty well built myself, I figured if I could build up to anything like him by developing wrestling techniques, I was game to have a go at it. I saw how all the women students—and some of the men too—licked their lips when they took in his light-brown, hairy body and his rugged, yet handsome features.
So, I readily said yes and he directed me to a private mat-covered room behind the main class area and told me to wait until the gym had cleared from our class, which was the last scheduled one of the evening. I went into the back room and waited. I'd worked up quite a sweat during the class, so I stripped off my gym shirt and used it to towel off.
I was still rubbing myself when Anwar came into the room and closed and locked the door behind him. He had a small gym bag that he put down beside the door, and then he looked up at me and smiled a big smile.
"Nice," he said, "Very, very nice. You look like you're in really good shape."
I started to pull my T-shirt back on, but he wasted no time in getting down to business, telling me that he could show me how my muscles should move in the wrestling holds if I was bare chested. He was wearing gym shorts himself and an athletic T with deep cuts at the neck and arm holes from which short, black curly hair blossomed.
At his command, we both took our gym shoes and socks off and went to the center of the mat, where, for the next forty-five minutes, he put me through a series of holds and falls that left me completely exhausted, while he'd hardly worked up a sweat. Half way through the workout, he'd shed his T, complaining of the heat, and I have to admit that our session of skin on skin was turning me on. I couldn't hide from myself that I had fantasized about Anwar and his manly body and had formed some very unhealthy thoughts about him and me.
While he was putting me in a standing Full Nelson, with me barely able to even stand in exhaustion, I realized that I was turning him on as well. He had his powerful arms under my arm pits, holding my arms above my head and my body was leaning back into his chest. But farther down, I could feel a gigantic, hard cock running up the small of my back. I realized that we were just standing there, against each other, rocking back and forth, and for the first time, I felt his chest heaving and his breath turning raspy. I had dreamed about this and my interest seemed to convey to him without my making any intentional moves.
He buried his face into the small of my neck, and I felt his lips and teeth seeking out the carotid artery and kissing me there. His mustache was tickling my neck.
I started to give a weak objection, but I was surprised and exhausted, and confused—and his kiss and the friction of his cock up the small of my back were making my cock rise. I had never done it with a man before, but he had caught me so off guard, and our wrestling had built the sexual tension from something that was almost imperceptible to something that was almost consuming me, that my defenses were shattered.
Without losing his lip lock on my carotid artery, he slowly let my arms come down, and his massive hands went to my pecs and rubbed and pinched at my erect nipples. I involuntarily moaned for him, which he took as an invitation to explore farther, and one hand slowly ran down my ribs and belly and went across the cloth of my gym shorts and found my cock. I felt him take in air with apparent pleasure when he felt the measure of me.
I let my hands go around him and grab hold of his buttocks through the cloth of his gym shorts, pulling him into me as closely as his stiff cock between us would allow. His hand left his play with my nipple and raised and turned my head to him and we went into a deep kiss. It seemed no different from kissing a woman, but no woman had played with my body during a kiss like this. The hand he had at my pelvis moved up and under the waistband of my shorts and found and encircled my dick briefly. Then both hands were pushing down my shorts, and I stepped out of them. His right hand went back to pulling at my dick, while his left hand fluttered all over my body. He came around me and kneeled and took my dick in his mouth and did marvelous things with his mouth and tongue. He was partially supporting me with his hands cupping my butt cheeks, but I collapsed in exhaustion and a serious case of the tremors, and a sank to the floor. He came down with me, taking me down in a slow fall and keeping my penis buried in his throat. I panted and moaned for him and, in the excitement of the first experience, came fairly quickly, down his throat.
It had been quite a pleasant and sexually stimulating experience, although it had been something that, only in my wildest fantasies I'd ever thought I'd do. But it had been so pleasant that I already was thinking of letting Anwar suck me off again sometime. I moved to get up and head for the showers, but I was soon to learn that the experience was not over.
When I started to rise, Anwar just laughed a hearty laugh and pushed me back down on the mat with a big hand on my belly. He moved to sucking and tonguing my balls and then his magic tongue, which I found to be a pleasant finish to having jacked off. But he then moved on down to my asshole, where he sucked and rimmed my ass with his tongue. I weakly tried to fight him as his tongue dug farther into my ass canal, but he just folded my thighs up against my torso and held me down with his strong hands. After a while I gave up to the pleasure of being tongue-fucked, deeper and deeper. I could feel my hole loosening and opening to him.
I lay there, weakly panting, as he stood and stripped off his gym shorts. His ram was huge and stood straight out from his body. I watched in fascination and horror as he took something from a pocket of his shorts, a condom packet, ripped it open with his teeth and slowly rolled a giant-sized condom onto his penis. He flashed me a broad and lascivious smile.
I got up on my feet as best I could and started scrabbling for the door. But he got to me before I reached it and slammed my chest up against the wall, knocking the breath out of me.
He held me against the wall with a strong hand to the back I screamed in pain as the head of his penis came up against my asshole. But then he let it slide down between my thighs, where he slowly dry fucked me. He found my mouth with the fingers of one hand and worked them between my lips.
"Here, get these good and wet," he commanded, "You'll be glad you did."
