Wrestling Tim

Everything was so vivid in that hallucinatory state between sleep and the waking world. Exhausted from study and my long work shifts to pay college fees I desperately needed rest and yet part of me remained alert and turned on. My cock fed with a stream of erotic images would not rest and I was too deep in rest to satisfy it.

Just as Tim dominated my conscious thoughts he reigned supreme in this trippy dreamland. He was even more present than had he been lying beside me in bed. We were deep in each other's thoughts and there was a nonverbal language spoken. The meaning was complex yet clear. Tim was the dominant one and there was something very reassuring about his strength one that brought comfort to both of us. I felt him physically all over me, inside me and I felt part of him. It was joyous to be part of his perfection and surrender to it.

Powerful images flashed before me: my eyes so deep into his that we almost merged, the taste of his tongue and his warm mouth, the harsh sensation of his facial stubble, the bitter-sweet smell of his armpit as I lay on his deep chest, his solid hard torso. All so perfect it filled me with serotonin.

Had we been made less complex that might have been our story one about two young college rugby teammates intensely mutually attracted and enjoying a blissful intimacy. Our story was darker than that though and far more erotic.

I believe Tim and I communicated at a subconscious level even in a dream state. He often made reference to dreams I had of him. How did he know these things? was he there with me in another dimension sharing intimacy or was his daytime domination so powerful he seeded my dreams too?

My orgasm was so strong that night that it shocked me awake. Tim had a talent for art, sketching in particular. He kept a scrapbook of his drawings and that day he was keen to show me a new sketch. The second I saw it I was reminded of a photo I had seen of a defeated wrestler carrying his victor on his shoulders and celebrating his victory. The photo was based on a form of wrestling practiced by some tribe. The chiseled muscular wrestlers were naked and it was the defeated one who's cock was erect. He was turned on by the power of his new master.

I feasted on Tim's sketch and looked up at him. He stared at me with a look of complete confidence. In that nonverbal exchange, we both understood this sketch depicted my fate. Tim wasted no time! stripping down to his rugby shorts. The sight of his stocky athletic physique caused me to tremble with anticipation and in seconds he was on me. I can't adequately describe the techniques he used to take me down, ride me, and wrestle me between his legs. It was all so fast and almost brutal yet I felt nothing until I heard him say 'submit'. That moment was so familiar to me, Tim submitted me frequently and it was always with a calm almost whispering tone. It was his way of telling me how effortless his domination of me was and how confident he was I would yield and obey.

With a mighty crushing force pressing in on both sides of my neck, I had to submit and fast! Tim's thighs were so strong he could sleep me easily. As always he relaxed his grip enough to keep things safe and to reward my submission. It came as a relief and it offered me a chance to figure out how he had me. What kind of wrestling lock was I in? It felt like a head scissors I was more than familiar with the force of his flexed thighs from our previous fights. I quickly realized I was kneeling and below me were his feet! Tim had me in a standing head scissors exactly like the one he had sketched. Every detail matched: the way his quads expanded outward and his inner thigh adductor muscles flexed into me, the vascularity of his legs pumping vigor into his scissors hold, his erect cock pushing through his tight white rugby shorts, his perfect muscular torso above me. He had me in front of a mirror so I would witness it all.

I was overwhelmed by the audacity of his domination. This was a new level of cockiness. I grabbed his thick hairy ankles to attempt a of counter-attack but he flexed in and humbled me with relentless submission. Resembling a statuesque warrior God he straddled me as I lay trapped beneath him on my hands and knees.

It was when he made me watch him jerk that I began to leak precum. His right hand was in his shorts clutching his cock almost like an old pic of Marky Mark! I noticed how thick the veins in his arms became and how his bicep bulged as he jerked. Then he stopped pulled out his hand pulled me up by the chin using his left hand and smeared my face with his fresh load.

I erupted, cum pelted out of my cock uncontrollably such was the power of his thick nutty scented seed. Like glue, it stuck to me and melted into my face. I smelled him tasted him and submitted to him.

Shocked awake and still pumping cum I soaked my bed with load after load. The orgasm filled with tingling pleasure was prolonged and deeply satisfying. On my wall, I glanced at Tim's sketch and realized this was the night after he first put me in a standing scissors. His hold over me was deeper than ever!