Parking Lot - Part Three: Greased Wrestling

At 2:30 on Sunday afternoon, I was rudely awakened by someone knocking on my front door. I debated for several seconds before deciding to at least see who it was. Slipping on my boxers, I gingerly stepped up to the peephole. It was him. As I opened the door, Gary stood there and smiled at me, mischievously awaiting my approval.

“Come on in, hot dog!”

“Hope I woke you up.”

“You did. Does that make you happy?” 

“I’m happy you’re home.” 

In his right hand was a plastic bag from one of the nearby discount super centers. “What have you got in there?” I asked.

“Just some fun stuff. I got to thinking that maybe we were taking too big a risk over at the ramp. I mean, you are supposed to be watching the cars and not screwing around with me all night.”

“Well, part of my job is to make the drivers happy and you are a driver. Right?”

“You know what I mean. I’m not worried about me. Hell, I’ve been a Teamster for 22 years. I’d almost have to murder someone before they could fire me, but you’re not protected at all. I just thought this would be better. So is this place available?”

“Anytime for anything. You want something to drink?” 

“No thanks, I’m fine. I do need to use the bathroom, though.”

I pointed him in the right direction. He sat the bag down and I started to look inside, but changed my mind. I decided to just sit back and see what he had planned, as he seemed to enjoy being the man in charge. I figured he was probably henpecked at home, and part of what he liked about me was that I had let him determine each activity, never pressuring him into doing anything he didn’t want. 

After he flushed the toilet, he yelled to me, “Got any hand towels?”

“In the closet when you come out of the bathroom.”

When he returned, Gary asked, “What time do you leave for work?”

“10:15, 10:30, somewhere in there. What time are you going in?”

“Oh, probably around midnight. I told my wife I was doing a double. That really pissed her off.”

Good. I loved it when she was pissed off at him, which seemed to be most of the time. To me, this meant he was glad to be away from her and looking forward to being with me. I didn’t know what he had to go through to get out of his house, but I was going to make sure that the risks he was taking would be worth his efforts. 

Finally, he showed me what was in the bag. Setting it on my couch he began to remove the items. There was a roll of duct tape, four vinyl shower curtains and (much to my pleasure) several cans of axle grease. Gary scrutinized my front room. 

“This looks big enough. Let’s move this furniture back to the walls, then I’ll make us a wrestling ring.”

I didn’t even ask. I just started pushing everything back to make a clearing in the center of the floor. Gary opened and laid out the shower curtains, connecting them with duct tape, then he threw the cans of grease on top. “Might as well take off those undershorts. You won’t be needing them.”

I stripped and sat cross legged on the vinyl coverings. My dick was hard as could be, as it had been from the moment I had let him in the door. I had no intention of asking him anything. Watching him undress, it was so clear to me that he had found a new energy, a chance to recreate events from his past or from fantasies he had entertained in thought for god knows how many years. Who was I to question him? Everything I needed to know was written on his face and the gleam in his eyes, and I was fully prepared to relish in anything he had to offer me. 

Joining me naked on the shower curtains, Gary issued his next order. “Lay down and let me slick you up.”

I laid on my back spread eagled, while he opened a can of axle grease. Soon I felt his rough, masculine hands applying the goop to my legs, slowly moving up towards the genitals. My balls and erect cock were covered, then my belly, stomach and chest. As he finished with my arms, neck and pits, the can was emptied and he tossed it aside. “Roll over.”

Gary opened a new can and repeated the process, stopping along the way to insert a finger into my asshole. My dick throbbed as it was being crushed under my belly. Soon my entire backside was covered and another can emptied. Not a word was spoken during the process of my greasing. I don’t know what he was thinking, but I was blown away by the fact that this rugged man was gently putting his hands all over me. When I saw that his dick was hard too, it only added fuel to my fire. 

Now it was his turn. Gary stretched out spread eagle and face up like I had, but what he didn’t know was that I intended to take my time greasing him up. I started at his feet. Grabbing his right ankle, I raised his foot up slightly and began to worship him. I placed my tongue on the heel and slowly headed up the manly arched sole towards his toes. Gary looked up over his chest and I waited to see if he was going to object. He smiled, winked and returned his head to the floor, taking a deep breath and releasing the air with a sigh. I could see his entire body relax as he prepared to absorb the affection I was going to give him. 

I continued up the sole until I reached his toes. He obviously had showered soon before coming to my apartment, as the aroma of sweat between his toes was faint, but definitely masculine. I wondered how he would smell after delivering a few loads of vehicles and vowed that someday I would find out. I buried my tongue in between each of his toes, finishing with the skin separating the great from the second. Then I brought my lips to the hair on top of his big toe and saturated the tuft with my spit. I held this fur in my lips, reached into the can and began to grease up his saliva drenched foot, thoroughly encasing every inch from heel to toe.

Now I continued the pattern from his ankles and up the shins, knees and thighs, each time slicking him with spit before applying the axle grease. I dribbled pre-cum incessantly, as I watched the saliva and grease highlight the glorious, manly hairs and naturally powerful muscles in his legs. Stopping at his crotch, I returned to repeat the pattern on his left foot and leg. 

I took a huge gob of grease into my hand and encased his perfectly sized testicles, deciding to try licking them some other day. But I had to take that hardened eight inch cock into my mouth, if only for a brief moment, just so I could once more taste the manly fluid oozing from his slit. Soon I was applying the lube onto his penis and stimulating the head with my thumb. Gary moaned with pleasure and spoke to me. “Better move on. I don’t want to cum yet.”

I knew he was right. I needed to speed up the process and see what he had planned for me. I dutifully greased up the rest of his torso, arms and pits. He rolled over and I gobbed up the back of everything, until I got to his buttocks. Here was unchartered territory. Gary jumped in to help me out of this fix. “Just do the cheeks, don’t go in the crack.”

Guess that day would have to be down the road, if it ever came at all. So we were both totally covered in axle grease, except for our faces and heads. Gary rose to rest upright on his knees, that throbbing penis pointing straight at me and ready for action. It now was his turn to direct the proceedings. 

“Here’s the deal. Remember old time wrestling, back before all the pumped up freaks took over?”

“Yeah, when I was a kid.”

“Well, that’s what we’re going to do, only we’ll do it in slow motion. Lots of fake punches and torturous holds and stretching. Here, let me show you.”
He waddled over to me on his knees, as I waited for him upright on mine. He grabbed my right wrist and violently jerked me towards him, then spun me around and bent the arm behind my back.

“Ouch. You cheating bastard! I thought you said slow motion.”

“The bell just rang, sucker.”

He thrust his weight forward and drove me chest first into the floor, all the while keeping me in the arm bar. I could feel his firm pectorals pressed against my back, while the rock hard belly covered my bent arm. His chest hairs tickled the skin and I enjoyed being dominated by him. His hardened penis squeezed itself in between my thighs and I waited to see if he would next penetrate my ass.

Gary got a little frustrated at my lack of participation. “You better fight back or I’ll break it.” He bent my arm further up to my shoulder blade and it hurt like hell.

This pissed me off. It reminded me of my first boyfriend, who used to enjoy slapping me across the face, knowing that I was too big a pussy to fight back. Those days were over forever. Working on the railcars had made my body hard and solid as could be, just as strong as Gary’s. Considering I was 20 years his junior, I wasn’t about to take this shit any longer. I leveraged my body away from underneath him with my foot and rose to my knees. He still held my right wrist, but as he began to get up I smashed him back down with my left forearm, leaving him to lie on his chest. Then I planted a left hook right into his ribs as hard as I could land it, which caused him to release my wrist.

He rolled over onto his back and clutched his side, laughing hysterically. “Man, Kenny, you’ve got one hell of a punch.” 

“Guess you got me a little angry there. What do we do now?”

He changed his voice to sound like a little boy. “I won’t cheat anymore. I promise.”

“You better not or I’ll crack your ribs.”

He rose to his knees and we faced each other two feet apart. Still smiling, Gary glanced at my cock, which had softened during my anger, then he slowly scanned up my torso until our eyes met. “God damn, you’re something else.”

I could tell I had not intimidated him, but definitely he was impressed by my defiance and ability to carry it out. Now he knew he wasn’t dealing with some submissive wuss, but a man not unlike himself, which made him even more comfortable with me. How could I stay mad at this big baby? His juvenile expressions and the whole idea of this silly game softened me. My anger disappeared just as quickly as my erection reappeared. I returned his smile. “Damn right I am. I’m more than you can handle and don’t you forget it.”

And so our fake wrestling match began - in slow motion. We took turns locking each other in classic holds like the full nelson, leg scissors and numerous head locks, never standing on our feet, just the knees. I let him head lock me several times so I could bury my face into his chest and get a close up view of that belly. I loved throwing fake punches into his gut, as he would pretend to have the air knocked out of him, clutching his stomach, grunting and groaning.

I began to realize that he was slowly allowing me to become the dominant participant in this imaginary match. Each time he’d try to get me into some sort of hold, all I’d have to do is touch his belly with my fist and he’d collapse to the floor. I began to act as the MC of the match, verbalizing a play by play of the events. I named myself “The Dominator” and called him “Lumber Jack.” 

And now, we join the match already in progress.

“Lumber Jack has taken quite a beating, but he’s still fighting back. He moves in and tries for an ankle lock, but The Dominator smashes the back of his neck with a devastating forearm. Jack is face down and almost lifeless. Now the Dominator lifts him up and strangles him with one giant hand. He’s landing repeated upper cuts to Jack’s belly. This constant attack to the midsection is slowly wearing him down. How much more can the man take? Now Dominator’s taunting poor Jack, as he stands there teetering on the brink of collapse. The brute pounds Lumber Jack with a fist to the sternum and he falls to the mat flat on his back. It looks like he’s had it.

Look at this show off. He’s planted his knee into Jack’s stomach and is flexing his muscles like he’s already won the match. Now he’s raising both hands into the air. Oh, my god! Dominator has clamped on a double abdominal claw to Lumber Jack’s helpless belly. This is a devastating hold. It causes paralysis throughout a man’s body. Jack is lying there spread eagle, totally defenseless against this torturous hold. You can hear him groaning in agony, as Dominator grinds those fingers into him deeper and deeper. Dominator’s telling Jack to give up, but he shakes his head no. So he gets up on his haunches and increases the pressure on the poor man’s abdominals. The fans are screaming for somebody to stop this ungodly torture of their hero. It looks like Jack is totally paralyzed. He’s lying motionless now, all resistance seems to have stopped.