For years I labored under the delusion that I knew what I wanted concerning erotic combat with other men. I would refer to it as "first to cum loses" or "erotic wrestling" in my profiles on the gay wrestling websites and during a chat session, but neither title truly encompassed what I was longing for when I envisioned the "sexfighting" I had in mind. I met guys at their home or in motels - driving as far as an hour away in the hopes that the match that awaited me would be as exciting as I hoped, but most of the time it was not.
To be clear, my leaving the match disappointed wasn't the fault of the men I was meeting. The expectations I had agreed upon were simply not what I wanted, mostly because I didn't know what I wanted yet. We would meet, we would wrestle, trunks or underpants would eventually come off and we would play with each other's cocks in between wrestling holds until one of us either submitted or climaxed. It was fun. It was a release for both of us. We would be sweaty and exhausted when we were done but I would leave feeling unfulfilled.
All that changed the night I was in a chat room in one of the gay wrestling websites and met Todd. He distinguished himself from the other guys who had reached out to chat with me that evening by not starting the conversation with "STATS?" My "stats" weren't very impressive. I had started working out in January (another New Year's resolution that I had finally been able to commit to) and had trimmed off some weight and built up some muscle but was still nowhere near the "underwear models" that most of these guys professed to be. I was "average" at best and five years past the mid-century mark in age so my prospects were usually disinterested in me or I quickly became disinterested in them.
Todd was different. His private message started with "Good evening! How are you?" I responded and we exchanged a pretty straightforward conversation for a good ten minutes. There wasn't the pause between messages as he caught up on all the other conversations he had going on which made me feel that he was only talking with me and whether he was or not it made me feel good to think I was the only guy he was interested in talking with.
After chatting for a bit he jokingly said: "I guess we should talk about wrestling since that's why we're both in this chat room LOL!" I wrote back that it was refreshing to talk with somebody who didn't only want to talk about wrestling and - after the first and only pause in our conversation - he wrote back that he felt the same way.
We chatted for an hour which - in itself - was an event that had never happened before. We discovered that we had both been married and divorced and neither one of us were currently in a relationship. I lost myself in conversation with him, ignoring the few other messages that popped up asking "STATS" or "HEIGHT, WEIGHT, STYLE". I decided to break one of my cardinal rules and invite Todd to call me so we could talk on the phone when he sent a series of numbers in an odd format: xx xxxx xxxxxx. I asked him what that was and he told me it was his cell phone number. It was then I realized that in all the time we had been chatting I hadn't stopped to look at his profile, which is normally the first thing I do once I get invested in a chat. I went to his profile and my heart immediately sank when I read "LOCATION: LONDON UK."
"Fuck," I said. I should not have been surprised. The few guys I was able to connect with that I would want to meet in real life were always too far away to meet in person. The few who lived here in the States were more than a day trip and London was certainly not in my budget. I realized I had rudely stopped chatting and was about to send a message to Todd when he sent "I apologize, I shouldn't have presumed you wanted my phone number without asking first." I quickly typed "Don't apologize! I was one second away from asking if you wanted to talk on the phone!" and sent it - hoping I had not pushed him away.
He wrote back that he'd love to talk on the phone and said he should call me since he calls the US for work and already has a plan so it wouldn't cost him much. I gave him my number and two minutes later my phone was ringing. I let it ring three times like a high school cheerleader finally getting the phone call from the captain of the football team, took a deep breath, and answered.
Damn, he had a sexy voice. It was deep but not gruff, and his British accent was frosting on an already enticing cake. I was staring at the one photo he had on the wrestling website, a headless photo of him in a t-shirt and boxer briefs standing in what must have been his living room. He was similar in build to me and was a year older.
We talked about the wrestling matches we each had and realized that we were both unsatisfied with what we were experiencing. He asked what I was looking for and I said I didn't know if I could explain it - which was a lie and I think he knew it. I said I could send him a link to a video of what I thought I was looking for and went to Pornhub, copied a favorite video and sent it to him through the wrestling website chat.
It wasn't a video of wrestling - it wasn't even "combat" really. It was a video of two bear-like guys in a motel, having rough sex that made the bed shudder and rattle. They weren't really "fighting" but it was still a contest between the two men, each trying to put the other man out of commission with erotic pleasure. One would be on the receiving end of the other's hard cock slamming in and out of his asshole while he whimpered and moaned, but then they would switch positions and the stud who had once been in control would be sucked or fucked while he lay on the bed moaning helplessly.
I gave Todd a few minutes to watch the video, wondering what he would think. I'll admit, I was worried he would come back and call me a "weirdo" and that would be the end of our budding friendship. He was silent while I could hear the video playing in the background and after he watched it for a few minutes he said "so, you want to make sex a sort of contest between us? Like a wrestling match with sexual acts instead of holds?"
I said "yes" - admittedly concerned about what he was going to say next. There was a slight pause before I could almost hear himself grinning as he said: "where the fuck have you been all of my life?"
So ... that was how it began. A chance meeting in a wrestling website chat room that led to Todd and me finding an opponent who wanted the kind of a "fight" that was sexual and erotic and more or less rough sex with a "winner" and "loser" at the end.
"Of course, it figures that we have an ocean separating us!" I laughed, but he didn't. Instead, he said "there's this new thing... called a plane." I told him it wasn't in my budget to fly to London anytime soon and he said: "then I'll fly you here!" I couldn't believe he was suggesting it, but he assured me he was serious. My heart had been pounding in my chest the whole time we were talking and now it was beating so loud I was certain the upstairs neighbors in our apartment building could hear it.
"I'll fly you out here in two weeks. You can stay with me so you don't need to worry about a hotel or car. I'd suggest you stay for at least a week because those transatlantic flights can be a bitch. Do you think you could take a week off from work?" Hell, for a week of sexfighting with Todd I would quit my job. I told him I would find out on Monday and let him know. We exchanged email addresses and after a few more minutes of conversation (more like a half an hour) we hung up.
I didn't sleep well, anxiously awaiting Monday. I went into work and straight to human resources. I submitted my request for a week off and it was approved. I emailed Todd from my desk and he told me he would wire me the money for the airfare as it would be easier for me to purchase my ticket than to have him purchase one for me. Thank God I had gotten a passport a few months ago (I wanted to take a vacation in the Caribbean that had unfortunately not come true). By Wednesday I had the money and was searching for flights. I booked a flight that would depart Philadelphia (an hour drive) on Saturday evening and arrive in Heathrow on Sunday morning. The return flight departed Heathrow late Saturday night and would land in Philly around noon on Sunday. That still gave me five full days with Todd and (if I wasn't suffering from jet-lag) we might have Sunday evening, too.
Now I just had to get through the next two weeks until I boarded a British Airways flight for what I hoped would finally be the kind of "combat" I had been dreaming of.
