Oil wrestlers – part 1

Gay erotica, massage, forced arousal, cbt

A teenager decides to make some money naked wrestling.

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Oil wrestlers – part 1

A Range Rover with tinted windows pulled over to the roadside where a young man stood dressed in his jogging bottoms, a T-shirt, sneakers and a hoody. A window rolled down on the passenger side and a man in his late fifties leaned out.

“Franta Maly?”

The teenager approached.

“Yes, that’s me. Radek sent me.”

The man smiled.

“Yes, he’s one of our best recruiters. I’m Otik. So you know what you’re going to be doing yes?”

“Yes, wrestling nude.”

“That’s right. Are you comfortable with that?”

Franta shrugged.

“I don’t know, but it’s money right? How much do you pay again?”

“100k for the shoot.”

“Koruna’s right?” Franta asked with a smirk.

100,000 Czech Korunas was equivalent to 6 weeks’ pay for a skilled worker. Which he wasn’t.

“Of course, of course! So are you interested?”

“Of course, of course,” Franta said with an impish grin, throwing the man’s words back to see if he had a sense of humour.

The man smiled again and turned to the driver.

“We have a cheeky one here Lojza, I think he’ll do great.”

The man opened the back door.

“Get in and we can take you to the studio.”

Franta looked into the back and there was another young guy who looked to be about 18 – the same age as him. The young man smiled.

“Hey, I’m Petr, we’ll be wrestling. Come in!”

He offered a hand. Franta accepted the hand  and climbed into the car. Petr did a single, abrupt shake, then switched his grip so that his fingers formed a hook. It was a slightly macho grip favoured by college boys and those on sports teams. Franta changed his grip to match, his fingers hooking onto Petr’s. Petr did another quick shake, this time pulling to lock their fingers tight. Franta returned the favour, creating a momentary low-key tug of war.

Franta instantly liked the other boy. He closed the car door behind him and the care immediately pulled away.

“Hey Petr, how you doing?”

“Great thanks brother. What about you?”

“Yeah, pretty cool thanks!”

 

Otik turned in the front seat.

“Petr is one of our stars. He’s been wrestling about two years now.”

“Oh, how old are you?” Franta asked in surprise.

“18.”

“I didn’t think you were allowed to do porn under 18?”

“Actually, it’s 15, but you need your parents’ permission.”

“Speaking of which, you brought your ID didn’t you Franta?” Otik asked.

Franta pulled his passport out of his pocket and gave it to Otik. The man checked it then returned it.

“Just 18. What a way to celebrate!”

“This is just for the money,” Franta replied.

“Naturally,” Otik said. “So Franta have you ever done any nude modelling before?”

“No, never.”

“What about a nudist camp or beach?”

“Nope.”

“So, this is going to be your first time naked in front of anyone else?”

“Well, apart from the school showers, and my mum when I was a kid.”

“Ah, of course. So, do you think you’ll be okay with being nude around another boy? And the cameras?”

“I don’t know. I guess it’ll be weird, but I’ll get over it.”

“That’s the spirit. Professional attitude. I like it. One more question, are you gay?”

“No, definitely not.”

“Never done anything with another boy?”

“Nope.”

“Well, you know that you’ll be expected to wank off at the end of the shoot, right?”

“Yeah, Radek told me.”

“And you’ll be expected to wank Petr and let him wank you. Are you sure that won’t be a problem?”

“I’ll do what you tell me to for that sort of money. I don’t have to like it do I?”

“No, of course not. In fact, our subscribers prefer it if you are a little self-conscious. It lets them know that you’re straight.”

“Oh.”

 

30 minutes later, they arrived at the studio. It was at a remote house outside Prague. They parked on a large gravel drive and entered through a side door. Franta could see an outdoor pool and substantial grounds through a large glass window as they passed through a lounge area.

“Nice house!” he commented.

“Thank you. Adult media is a lucrative business. People are always horny.”

Otik lead them through another door and downstairs to a large, well-lit basement area. At one end, there was a small rest area, with a couch and two chairs. In the middle was a computer, an editing desk and several cameras on tripods. The far end was matted and covered in blue plastic tarpaulin.

“Okay, have you ever wrestled or grappled before?” Otik asked.

“Nope, nothing.”

“Okay, that’s good. Models who have wrestled before can get way too aggressive. So, for the first 30 minutes, I want you to remember, the objective is not to win; it’s to put on a show. If you manage to hold Petr down, nobody wants to see him pinned for 10 minutes, so after a few seconds, ease off and let him escape.”

He made air quotes as he said the last word.

“What the audience most wants, is to see two fit, almost naked young men rolling around on the floor, rubbing against each other okay?”

“Okay.”

“Great, now why don’t you strip down to your underwear and we can get started.”

Franta quickly stripped, depositing his clothes in the rest area. Then he returned to the side of the mats where Petr and a second man was waiting. He was wearing his best briefs as he had been instructed. They had a wide elasticated waistband, and a tailored pouch.

“Grand, this is Vasek. He’s operating the cameras. Now step onto the mats. You’re going to warm up first. Just follow Petr’s lead.”

 

Petr walked onto the mats and Franta followed him.

“Okay, let’s just stretch a bit first,” Petr said. “Do this.”

He pulled one arm across his body with the other, loosening his shoulder, and Franta copied his movement. Over the next fifteen minutes, they went through an array of exercises to loosen their joints and warm up their muscles.

As they stretched, Vasek set up the cameras and got them rolling, then picked up a Steadicam and started walking around them filming.

 

Otik said, “Great, you’re warm enough. Let’s get down to it. Remember Franta, you’re not here to win. You’re here to look sexy. You’re going to try to throw Petr to the mat, but not too roughly. You can trip or takedown or whatever. Once one of you is down, the other one is going to try to hold him down. Let’s say no longer than 20 seconds attempting any pin, then you either move away and reset, or you allow Petr to escape. Clear?”

“Yup! Franta said with a smile.

He turned to Petr and they fist bumped cordially, then Petr adopted a crouched pose with his hands up and out in front of him, ready to grapple for position. Franta copied him.

“Off you go then,” Otik said.

Franta moved closer to Petr and they interlocked their fingers. Keeping low, they both twisted and turned, trying to push the other’s arms to the side. Franta suddenly let go with his right hand and moved in close, wrapping his arm around Petr’s waist. He turned away, trying to throw Petr over his hip. Petr tried to step around, but Franta stuck out a leg and Petr fell to the floor. Franta followed him down, and lay sidewards across Petr, wrapping his arm around the other boy’s neck. Petr struggled for a while before Franta loosened his hold, allowing him to slide out.

 

They continued in the same vein for the next 15 minutes, then they took a break, and walked to the side of the mats to take a drink from the water bottles that Otik had provided.

He looked at them. Their underwear had dark sweat rings around the waist, leg holes and in a line where the cracks of their bottoms ran.

“Good, you’re both nice and warm. You’re going to carry on wrestling, but this time, Petr, you are going to pull Franta’s pants off. Franta, keep wrestling. Don’t try to keep your pants on. When they’re gone, you’re going to pull Petr’s off as you fight, then you throw your briefs to the side and keep wrestling okay?”

Franta gave him a big bright-eyed puppy-dog smile of acknowledgement. Otik liked the boy. He hadn’t worked out if the boy was genuinely straight or simply closeted yet, but he was certainly keen. There was one thing he was certain of however; that he’d have the kid on his knees, taking it in both ends,  on camera within six months.

 

The boys walked back onto the mat and started wrestling again. Almost immediately they ended up on the ground rolling around.

Petr was obviously quite skilled at it. Franta quickly came to realise that any time he wanted to, the other boy could easily dominate him. But Petr was playing along with the game, allowing Franta his own opportunity to look good. At this stage, all that Franta brought to the fight was youthful enthusiasm and strength, but he was matched on the latter pound-for-pound by Petr.

Franta would move into a position, mostly from behind, wrap his arms around Petr and try to manhandle the other teen into a submission position. Sometimes Petr would allow him to succeed, and other times he would wriggle out, turning to face him, or breaking his grip.

After one such reversal, Franta found himself in Petr’s lap as the boy heaved him off the mat, then a hand was at the side of his briefs and before he could react, they were sliding down his thighs and his penis was bouncing free.

He knew from the start, that he was going to be getting nude, but it still caught him off-guard when it happened, especially as his body was facing the camera at the time. Instinctively, he reached to cover himself, but as he did so, Petr arched his hips beneath him forcing Franta’s now naked groin upwards. Franta blushed, and he felt an irrational wave of annoyance that Petr had exposed him to the world. He was determined to take his revenge, and in a squealing, grunting surge of effort, he turned back to his opponent, and quickly manoeuvred him into a position where Franta could tug at HIS underwear. Petr put up a token resistance, but soon enough he had also been divested of his briefs. Now both boys were fully naked. Franta glanced at Petr’s penis and was relieved to see that it was about the same size as his own; a three-inch tube of meat with a tight foreskin on the end.

The boys wrestled for a further ten minutes before taking another water break.

“Great job lads,” Otik encouraged. “Now you’re going to get oiled up. Use this bottle of baby oil. Rub it into the chest and arms, and pay special attention to each other’s dicks. Spend at least five or even ten seconds, and don’t forget the balls. Then a quick rub into the thighs, turn, do the back, and again, nice and thorough on the backside, and be sure to rub it well down into the crack. Petr, you oil Franta first.”

 

Franta felt considerable trepidation when he heard what Otik expected from them. He was well-aware that their wrestling antics were intended to be viewed by gay men, and that didn’t particularly bother him; he was flattered if anything; but the level of intimacy that the man had just articulated was far beyond his expectations. He swallowed down his antipathy, and watched as Petr poured baby oil onto his hand.

 

The other boy approached and started to rub it into Franta’s chest, then his arms. Petr’s hands started to work their way down his torso, down along his light treasure trail towards his groin. Then he stopped just above Franta’s pubes and poured more oil on his palm. He resumed rubbing the oil, starting at the top of Franta’s thighs and working down away from his genitals. For a moment, Franta hoped that Petr was going to disobey Otik, then the boy looked him in the eye, raised his eyebrows  and gave him a cheeky grin.

Then he gripped Franta’s penis in his oiled fist and started to work the oil into it, although “work the oil in” was not an entirely accurate description. Within the first second, Franta’s penis was well-oiled, everything after that was nothing more than barely-disguised masturbation. Franta looked down at the fist moving over his cock and tensed his lips into a tight oval. His eyes widened self-consciously. This was not what he had expected. The friction as Petr rubbed the oil produced a pleasant warmth, but Franta didn’t want it to feel pleasant. He could feel his penis responding, but he fought against it, tensing his stomach and pulling up his balls towards his body.

Petr glanced up at Franta’s face, his playful smirk broadening. He could feel the meat in his hand swelling slowly. He released it and gripped the testicles that Franta had sucked up towards his body, tugging them back downwards in his oiled hand, and rolling them lightly in his fist. Franta was relieved that the attention on his penis had ended. Having his balls massaged still felt nice, but it was not boner-inducing nice.

“Turn around,” Petr said with a smirk.

Franta complied, and Petr rubbed the oil into his back. When it came to his bottom, Petr once again took his time, slowly massaging each of the globes of Franta’s butt-cheeks. Then he turned his flattened hand sidewards and rubbed it between the cheeks. Franta was starting to relax; this was less intimate than wanking his cock. Then he felt the tip of an oily index finger at his hole. It pushed inside to the first knuckle joint and Franta tensed in shock. He looked over his shoulder wearing an expression of alarm. Yet again, Petr smirked back at him.

“Oops!”

 

Petr handed Franta the bottle.

“Now you do me.”

Franta accepted the bottle and copied Petr’s example, oiling torso, arms and thighs saving the genitals till last. Unlike his partner, he had no interest in prolonging the penis-oiling stage. He oiled his fist then wrapped it around Petr’s cock. It felt strange to have another boy’s cock in his hand. It was not something he’d ever expected to experience, but he couldn’t help but feel a certain curiosity, making comparisons with his own penis. They were almost identical in size and appearance.

He massaged it for the five-second minimum that Otik had said would be acceptable, before moving onto Petr’s balls. They also felt exactly like his own. They were so similar that they could almost be twins. Franta noted that Petr’s dick no longer hung straight down between his legs. Instead, he had the start of a semi, and it protruded at a downwards-facing 45-degree angle.

When he had oiled Petr’s balls, Petr turned and Franta did the rear. He considered delivering his own revenger “finger shocker” but the thought of getting shit on his finger stopped him.

 

Glistening with oil, the two teenagers faced each other for the third round of wrestling. They adopted their previous starting position, then clashed like two titans in an ancient Greek sculpture, each grasping at the other’s upper arms and leaning forwards to use their weight. However, what neither had reckoned on, was how much difference the oil would make. Their feet slid away from each other, and the A shape of their initial combined posture quickly flattened to a pyramid, then a straight as they slowly slid laughing to their faces.

Franta was the first to react, releasing Petr and jumping onto the other boy’s back, facing head-to-head, with his chest pressing down between Petr’s shoulders. It was a position that had no strength, and Petr quickly slid out from beneath. They continued grappling for several minutes, but their slick bodies slid off each other, exactly as Otik intended.

 

He originally got the idea after watching oil wrestling on youtube. It was the national sport of Turkey, but in that sport, the wrestlers were not naked, and their thick leather shorts gave the opponent something to grip onto. Otik was happier with his version. Watching two naked, horny, teenagers sliding around, rubbing their slippery bodies together for half an hour was enough to make any gay man horny.

 

Franta and Petr reset in a face-to-face clinch ready to go at it again. Franta glanced down then gave Petr a smirk.

“You’ve got a boner,” he said.

Petr’s hard five-inch erection jutted out from his groin.

He grinned back.

“Yeah, this is horny don’t you think?”

“Kinda,” Franta admitted. “Little bit. Not THAT horny.”

“Whatever. We’ll see.”

“Okay guys,” Otik interjected. “Might as well go to the next round. Now you’re allowed to grab the other guy’s dick or slap his ass as well. One point for a slap, two for a 5 second dick grab, three for a submission.”

Franta knew that they would be masturbating together, and he suspected things were gonna get more sexual first. Dick grabbing was not entirely to his liking, but the oil wrestling had already lowered his inhibitions and now he was feeling playful and silly.

They started to grapple and he immediately reached for Petr’s penis. Petr twisted out of the way effortlessly, and countered with his own attempted grab. Franta caught his arm and twisted away as well.

They continued, back and forth, trying and mostly failing. The oil made it easy to twist and slide on the slippery tarp-covered matting, but almost impossible in conjunction with the oil, to apply any leverage.

Franta gripped Petr’s hard penis, and Petr slapped his hand away, turning to lay on top of his opponent, before returning the favour. Franta tried to push Petr’s hand away but Petr increased the pressure and used his other hand, gripping the inside of Franta’s elbow to prevent him pulling his penis free. He squeezed as hard as he could. It was not painful – at least, not how squeezed nuts would have been, but nevertheless, Franta squealed and slapped at the ground repeatedly in submission before it could become more uncomfortable. Petr released him and they reset again.

Watching them “fight” was like watching two slippery fish on a dock, flapping around and struggling.

Kneeling again, Franta leaned forwards and wrapped both arms behind Petr’s neck and pulled the other boy close. Petr’s dick was still a hard, shiny pole between them, pointing in Franta’s direction.

Franta fell backwards pulling Petr on top of him and wrapping his legs around the other boy’s waist to hold him close. Laying chest to chest, he lowered his right hand and gave his friend four light, cheeky slaps on the behind, laughing puckishly as he did so. Petr laughed as well, and pushed Franta’s remaining arm easily from around his neck.

Although Franta’s legs were wrapped around him, ankles crossed behind his back, thanks to the oil, it was impossible for him to hold the position, and Petr pushed Franta’s legs down to the floor then slipped through and straddled his opponent, kneeling on either side of his body. He wrapped his own legs around Franta’s, tucking his feet behind Franta’s knees, then he lay down chest-to-chest on top. He wrapped his arms under Franta’s armpits, and even with the slipperiness of the oil, it was very hard now for Franta to escape. He twisted and squirmed, bucking his hips, and trying to turn out. He suddenly became aware that their dicks were smooshed together; Petr’s boner, and his own floppy cock. Except it wasn’t completely floppy. The massage and the wrestling had given him a distinct semi, and now, with Petr’s slippery dick rubbing up against his own, he felt a full boner growing.

“Don’t think about it, don’t think about it!” he thought to himself, but the more he tried not to think about his penis, the harder it grew.

“Now’s who’s got a boner?” a grinning Petr whispered in his ear.

Franta redoubled his efforts to escape, but now he was certain that Petr was deliberately grinding their groins together.

“Dude!” he whispered back, but Petr ignored his objection and continued grinding their boners together for ten seconds. Vasek crouched and zoomed between their legs so that an appreciative audience could see that they were now both hard.