In high school I had been the best on my wrestler on my team. I had gone to state in the 195 weight class my junior and senior year but had never taken home the title. My sophomore year, before my growth spurt and finding my love of working out, I had lost at regionals in the 160 weight class; and freshman year I had been the Junior Varsity wrestler in the 145. I loved wrestling, it was pure aggression and domination over another human being. Reminded me of gladiators, which I always had a passion for.
Going into high school I had wanted to have the full high school experience. I wanted to be on the school teams, wanted to date the head cheerleader, and wanted to have a good time. Like the cheesy high school movies that are chock full of cliché stereotypes of the different cliques. Problem was that I get serious tunnel vision when I want something really bad. I got my first taste of wrestling when I was 7 and it was something to do during the winter months. It wasn't until high school and I started seeing what winning could bring people. The football team that had taken second in state were kings of the school and had girls fawning over them. I wanted that. Problem was that in high school I never took advantage of my winning ways. I was so concerned with winning state and trying to get the effects that that would bring me (Like I said, tunnel vision).
In elementary and middle school, I had had the normal dating experience. The kind where you talk on the phone once a week and go to a movie with parent supervision in the theater. A quick peck on the lips was the culmination of the sexual encounters I had going into high school. In high school, I thought I would get the feeling that all the other guys talked about, the one where I wanted to go all the way with the pretty girl. I was nervous my freshman year and was so engrossed in wrestling my sophomore year that I never even kissed a girl. I had discovered at that point porn and was masturbating every night, watching it on my phone on mute under the sheets.
I had watched only straight porn at that point. Some faceless guy with a huge veiny cock getting blown by some 19-year-old girl. Every night, except those that I was too tired, I would get my release that way. I found myself, my senior year, thinking about porn a lot. I was still a virgin after all. As I lay watching it one night, I found myself thinking about being in the act that I was watching. I subconsciously found myself thinking about being in the girl's position and taking that large rod into my mouth. When I realized what I was imagining I threw down the phone and rolled over. I had been raised Christian in the suburb of Dallas. It was not ok to be gay in my family.
So leaving high school and getting a partial college scholarship to a school in California, I resigned my summer to getting in the best shape I had ever been in. I wanted to be ready to prove myself to the coaches when I arrived on campus. I also was thinking about the college women I would meet (still had the nagging of that night where I imagined giving a blow job as well as a couple of wet dreams from my sexually repressed subconscious). I went to a team meeting at the beginning of the school to meet the team and coaches. After the coaches left the team captains handed out training regimens and diet plans to everyone. A team run three times a week and planned gym time three days a week with a day to ourselves until the season started in October.
That gave me a month to get settled into my new life in college. First thing was to move into my dorm room. My planned roommate had been a member of the football team, but he bailed to go to a school back east that gave him a better scholarship. I had an entire dorm room to myself. I put up some motivational posters, pushed the beds together and after putting my clothes away. I was ready to start my college year.
October rolled around quickly. My classes were easy (I had picked all intro classes, a PE class, and a pottery class) and only had classes Monday through Thursday. Things got a little tighter in my scheduling when the season started but I handle it ok. Like I said, I had pretty serious tunnel vision and during the season I didn't go out except to team functions, which was generally a work out. Every day after practice we would have to go shower together because of the nasty bacteria and viruses that lived in the wrestling mats no matter how much you cleaned them. Generally, the showers were boisterous but everyone kept to the unwritten rule that you kept your eyes up.
When you get a group of guys together though, eventually someone is going to show you their dick. Either it was a joke or someone asking if something looked wrong because they slept with some chick that had a reputation for getting around. During this time, Tom, the guy I was paired with normally in practice (a weight class above mine) and I became friends. He was from Oklahoma so we had the same background and, both being freshman, shared some classes together. He hung out in my room quite a bit because I had the place to myself.
As the season wore on he and I both were starting to feel the pressure of performing at this level while still maintaining our grades. It was very easy to devote your time to one or the other and not pay attention to everything else. When the semester ended we both stayed for the winter quarter, taking one class and making use of the facilities. We would spend long hours in the gym trying to make the moves second nature. Most of the team was still around but we had free run of the gym so it was odd to have more than two guys in the gym at once outside of team training.
It was after one of our solo practices together that I had noticed the blood in my body was not pumping as much to my muscles and more towards my cock. Every now and then the adrenaline gets a hold of you and you pitch a tent. Usually you take a minute, making an excuse about needing water, and then continued working out no problem. They also were normally half mast, this time however I could feel it getting bigger than normal. I called for a water break and we chatted for a minute, but it wasn't receding. I asked if we could call it a day, saying my break was feeling weird and I didn't want to risk an injury. Tom agreed and we headed to the showers.
As the warm water flowed over my body from the shower head I heard Tom coming, his shower flip flops gently smacking his feet as he stepped. The team shower room was a communal shower. No dividers between the heads, almost high school gym or prison style. As he entered I naturally turned my head to see who it was, of course it being him.
As he entered he asked, "how's your back?"
