canwrestle's blog

Bonded Like Brothers Part One

Robbie was caught in a full nelson. He was struggling to break free, grunting, flexing his chest, arms, and shoulders trying to force Danny’s hands apart. His lean, hard muscles rippled as he pulled downward. The elastic waistband of his loose boxer shorts sat low on his hips exposing a substantial bush of dark pubic hair. Apart from his densely coated legs, and the thick mop of black curls on his head, it was the only part of him that was hairy. His semi hard uncut cock poked out through the slit in the boxers as he fought. My cock swelled inside my shorts.

I’d walked in on them mid-fight. My first reaction was to pull them apart. It wouldn't have been the first time I'd had to do that since we'd been together, but then I noticed the sparse furniture in our living room had been pushed to the side, and a blanket had been placed on the carpet. This wasn't them fighting - it was a playful and planned wrestling match, something I imagined was common among brothers so close in age and size. Confirmation came when Robbie, who had Danny in a headlock, laughed, called his opponent a pussy, and slapped his ass, which elicited giggles from Danny.

So instead of interfering I threw my bag down and sat on the floor with my back against the wall to watch. I'd been working a landscaping job with a bunch of shirtless muscle studs all day and, although tired, was horny as hell.

With a final growl, Robbie accomplished his goal and broke the nelson. He twisted and threw his weight on top of Danny. They fought with hands and legs trying to gain a top position, then rolled across the blanket tangled up together.

I thought of them as brothers but technically they weren't. No relation at all in fact. However, it would be easy to assume that. They looked a bit alike. Both were about the same height, somewhere around 5'8, and both were lean and muscled, with impressive washboard stomachs and fully rounded asses. Both were boyishly handsome, with wide mouths, full lips, and small straight noses, however, Robbie’s heavily lidded eyes were a deep brown, with thick lashes, set beneath bushy eyebrows that arched upward giving him the look of someone always about to cause trouble. Danny’s eyes were larger, a golden green color, his eyebrows thin, and turned down at the end - giving him the look of someone who was always deep in thought. Robbie's complexion was also a shade darker, Danny was pinker, plus his hair was chestnut and bone straight.

However, it was less their looks and more how they acted that would make you think of them as brothers. They were protective but the deep affection was hidden behind constant bickering and teasing. They were also competitive and fought ferociously, sometimes in play, like now, but every so often, in anger.

To illustrate my thought, with a handful of hair, Robbie smashed Danny's head into the floor. I tensed, again ready to separate them, but then relaxed again when Danny retaliated by driving his elbow into Robbie's chin. They could play rough if they wanted, as long as it was also fair.

Danny forced Robbie onto his back and then tried to move to the side, but Robbie blocked him with his legs, trapping Danny's head in the space just behind one knee. Then he locked his ankles together. The lighter boy howled as his neck was constricted by the scissors. Robbie celebrated by reaching up, yanking down on Danny's white briefs, and slapping the perfectly unblemished ass cheeks of his opponent. He laughed and then demanded a submission.

I was very hard now… and sweating. It was hot outside and there was no AC in our tiny apartment. I pulled my dirty t-shirt over my head, balled it up, and used it to wipe away some of the moisture on my chest, then reached into my shorts and began to stroke my cock.

Although they knew I’d come home, neither had acknowledged me yet, both too intent on wrestling. However, with his opponent secured, Robbie was able to glance at me. He winked and smiled. He was a showman, he loved to perform, and I could see his leg muscles bulge as he tightened his scissors and amped up his aggressive commands to tap out… all for my benefit.

Performing was how we'd met. It was not quite a year ago that I'd been hired to film a scene for a low-budget porn company. I'd lost most of the contacts I had in the industry after I left Hunter, but this director had gotten my name and number from somewhere and offered me the job. I would have said no right away, but it was just regular, very basic sucking and fucking porn, which my ex never did, and I could certainly use the extra cash, so I felt safe taking the job.

When I arrived at the location, a tract house in the valley, I was introduced to Robbie, my scene partner.

I panicked. He looked like a kid. He claimed to be nineteen, but I was pretty sure that he was one of the many underage runaways who worked Santa Monica Boulevard as rent boys. Something felt wrong about fucking this kid on camera. I wasn't completely comfortable doing any kind of porn, if it hadn’t been for Hunter, I wouldn’t have gotten involved at all, and something about this situation brought out the Puritan in me.

I talked to the director about my concern, but he was high on something, and couldn’t have cared less. I told him I wouldn’t film the scene unless they showed me some proof of age. Robbie lost it, demanded to know why I was being such a pussy, then called me a bunch of rude names in Spanish. The desperation on his face, and in his voice, confirmed that I was right, I wanted the money, but he needed it. It escalated and he threw a punch. I defended myself and we ended up wrestling on the ground. While I was trying to restrain him and he continued to try and take my head off, we broke a table, a lamp, and knocked the director's camera off its tripod. That sobered him up and he screamed at us to get out, we were both fired. Robbie left, but I stayed and demanded that the guy pay me at least a portion of what he'd promised. When I threatened to call the cops, he coughed up fifty bucks which at least covered the gas I'd used to drive out there.

Outside I found Robbie sitting on the sidewalk, his head buried in his arms. I apologized and when he lifted his face to tell me to shove my apology up my ass, his cheeks were damp with tears. I knew the desperation. It was only a few years since I’d been in a similar place. Not quite a runaway, but only nineteen, alone, penniless, and doing whatever I could to get by.

“You owe me a hundred bucks,” he’d demanded.

“You were only getting a hundred?” I responded, “I was getting two fifty.”

His eyes narrowed and his mouth opened to let loose with another string of Spanish insults, but I cut him off.

“Look, I don’t have a hundred bucks, but how about fifty, and I’ll throw in dinner. When was the last time you ate?" I asked.

I got called a few more names and told to mind my own business but it was just bravado, he took the fifty and got in the passenger seat of my shitty little dodge.

We stopped at a taco place on the way back to Weho, and after demolishing two El Grande Burrito Supremes, I heard his story for the first time.
I’ve heard it several times now and with each telling the details have changed but the general gist has always remained the same. He’d come across the border illegally with his mom when he was a child, but only a few years after, he was abandoned. Once he told us his mom was the daughter of a drug kingpin and they’d escaped Mexico while being chased by thugs with machine guns. Another time she was the mistress of a famous luchador and was running from the wrestler's jealous wife. One time he was smuggled past border security in the trunk of a car, another he’d held his mother's neck while she swam the shark-infested waters from Baja to San Deigo. She’d either been caught and deported in an ICE raid, or gone into hiding to protect him from the gang members who were still searching for her, but whatever the case, he’d been alone since he was seven.

What happened after didn't come with imagined flourishes. He’d been taken in by another family, also illegals, but they were abusive and used him as unpaid labor. The cycle of running away, getting picked up by social services, and then running away again, started after that. At sixteen, when he ran away from a group home, nobody came looking for him, and he’d been living on the streets, stealing and turning tricks ever since. I also got the proof of age I’d demanded. With a smug look, he’d flashed me a social security card that stated his name was Roberto Delacruz and his birthday was August 15, 1986, making him legally nineteen. It may have been fake, but it was impossible to tell so I had to accept it as truth.

After dinner, I asked him where he was staying. There was a flop house he and a few others were crashing at off Sunset he said, but there was no running water and asked if he could come back to my place to shower.

Against my better judgment, I brought him to my ratty apartment, but kept a close eye on him, sure that the moment my back was turned he’d rob me blind. What happened instead though was he’d called my name and when I went in the bathroom to see what he wanted he was standing in the tub, the curtain open, with his thick cock hard as a rock. He smiled and asked if I wanted to join him. I did.

Just the two of us, with no cameraman or coked-out director present, it no longer felt wrong, so I took off my clothes and we had pretty decent sex. It had been six months since Hunter, and I was very horny. I sucked his cock in the shower, then we moved to my mattress, and I fucked him, both of us cumming in a great gush.
'
I offered to let him stay but he refused. He had to get back. "To what," I asked, but he wouldn’t say. After another shower, this one solo, he was gone.

Two days later he was back, but this time with Danny in tow. In what was probably the stupidest and rashest decision I’ve ever made, I let them inside. They never left.

With a cry of triumph from Danny and a howl of pain from Robbie, the head scissors ended. Danny had a handful of his opponent's cock and was squeezing for all his worth. Robbie lashed out with his forearm, shoving his tormentor off, and then scrambled back nursing his throbbing nuts. Without giving him any time to recover Danny launched himself and wrapped his lean arms around Robbie’s waist pulling him into a tight bearhug.

I was solid now, my balls tight and full, ready to explode. Danny's briefs were halfway down his ass, exposing the perky round mounds of his cheeks still rosy from Robbie’s slaps. As they twisted and thrashed around, I saw his remarkably large cock was out of the underwear pouch and was pressed tight to the darker boy's stomach.

“Fuck you!” Robbie grunted, his face contorted in pain from the tight squeeze on his ribs.

“Not this time bitch,” Danny grinned.

I pushed my shorts and briefs down setting my cock free and began stroking it vigorously.

Slowly, Robbie began to move from his knees to his feet. Danny went with him, still clinging tightly to the bearhug. Once up Robbie swept his foot and both boys toppled over. They fell hard, Danny on the bottom, and his hold broke apart.

A mad scramble followed Robbie had come close to tapping in the bearhug, and in retaliation, he got rougher, with slaps, elbows, and hair pulling. He hated losing, even when it was just for fun. He was a brawler, with no qualms about sportsmanship or fair play. Danny didn't back off though - his angelic face masked a tough-as-nails interior.

He was a runaway as well, but his story was less dramatic, and unfortunately all too common for gay kids from religious families. His were Mormon, some kind of very strict branch, and he'd left rural Utah at seventeen when things at home became unbearable. He and Robbie had found each other a couple of years ago and had been inseparable ever since, bonded like brothers, watching out for each other, navigating the mean streets together.

In the melee, the underwear of both was pulled off. They came up to their knees, semi-hard cocks jutting out from thick patches of hair and faced off. Robbie slapped Danny's cheek, leaving a red handprint that matched the one on his butt cheek. I saw Danny's eyes spark, he was smiling but the slap was a humiliation he was not going to take, even from the brother he loved.

He dove at Robbie, knocking him to the side, then he twisted and took his back. One arm closed around his brother's neck, the bicep cutting deep. He pressed his head tight to Robbie’s ear, preventing him from turning, then grabbed his other arm, bringing that hand to the back of the neck. It was a beautifully executed choke.

Hunter had taught me that, and I had taught it to Danny.

Robbie squealed at being caught, he knew the submission as well and shouldn’t have gotten caught so easily - but it was too late. Danny rolled onto his back, bringing his victim with him, then wrapped his legs around the darker boy's waist. Robbie was coughing and wheezing as the choke took its toll. Danny was grinning, squeezing his elbows tighter and roughly shaking Robbie’s trapped head.

“Give!” he commended.

There was no answer apart from more labored breaths.

I pumped my cock harder, the palm of my hand gliding up and down easily, lubricated by sweat and precum.

“I got you! GIVE!” Danny yelled.

I closed my eyes and threw my head back. I groaned as I felt the load moving closer.

“Okay, I give,” I heard Robbie wheeze.

My leg muscles tensed, and my arm picked up speed.

Suddenly my hand was pulled from my cock, and I felt two tongues run along the length of my shaft. I opened my eyes to see two heads of sweat-soaked hair buried in my crotch, one brown, one black. I gasped and shuddered as the bucket load of cum I’d been seconds away from shooting retreated slightly. It was almost painful.

Danny lifted his head and smiled, as Robbie's mouth closed around my dick and then sank down on it till his lips were buried in my bush. Danny moved up my torso with his mouth, kissing and licking my abs, stopping briefly to nibble each nipple, then my neck before ending at my lips. His tongue pushed past my teeth to wrestle with my tongue.

We kissed as Robbie continued to suck on my cock, pausing briefly to lick and kiss my over-full ball sack.

Danny pulled away, his eyes twinkled, the gold flecks igniting momentarily. He smiled again and flexed one of his arms. The bicep rose into a perfectly peaked mound, and then he brought it forward for me to appreciate it with my mouth.

"I won," he whispered as I kissed his arm, and that was it for me.

My cock exploded into Robbie's mouth, the hot stream of cum hitting the back of his throat with the force of a garden hose. He kept his lips firmly in place, sucking back and swallowing every drop. I moaned; my hips thrust forcing my dick further into Robbie’s throat and almost knocking a still-flexing Danny over. My whole body spasmed as I drained the last of my spunk. I tilted to the side and dropped down to my back while the aftershocks of my climax continued to rock my core.

With a final slurp, Robbie lifted his head off my dick. His grin was as wide as Danny’s.

As the last tremor rolled through me the two boys moved to lay on either side of me, settling into the crook of my arms, with heads resting on my chest, gently kissing and licking my nipples.

We lay like this for a while, I stoked their heads, feeling the soft bristles at the base of their scalps. I had recently given them both haircuts with clippers I'd gotten from a thrift store.

I could have stayed there for a while, but the spell was broken when my stomach gurgled and both boys giggled at the sound.

“Go shower,” I told them. I’ll start dinner.”

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