Date: Thu, 28 Apr 2011 20:16:08 -0400 From: Sean Williams Subject: Wrestlers Love the Kamikaze Shack Chapter 1 Wrestlers Love the Kamikaze Shack Chapter 1 It started with a look. That's all he did. He looked at me, and it did the trick. I was standing behind the counter at the Kamikaze Shack, he was looking at the menu trying to figure out what he wanted, and then he looked up at me. "Cookies and cream?" he asked with a smirk, one of those wicked half-smiles with head cocked to the side that always bring me to my knees. He might as well have knocked me out with a left hook. "I don't know." "Well...uh," I began, bending outside of the truck, looking at the menu. "You have a few options here. You could get cookies and cream in a waffle cone and just have that. That works pretty well." I looked at him. Those big brown eyes had me from twenty feet away. "Or you can get cookies and cream and have that in a cup, with some coffee." "What?" "Huh?" "Did you say coffee? Coffee with ice cream?" "Yeah. Yeah, that's what I said." I looked at the menu again. "It's actually what we're known for, the Kamikaze Shack, I mean. You haven't been here before, have you?" "No. First time." There was that cocky smirk again. And how could I miss the pecs bulging out of the white Hanes t-shirt. Those shirts are pretty thin and I could see the outline of his nipples as he walked up, standing at attention. "Well," I continued, "the Kamikaze Shack is known for our... um... original combination of ice cream and... um... iced coffee... and, well... the combination goes really well together." "Original?" the wrestler asked. He laughed. "You mean completely unlike the Dunkin' Donuts and Baskin Robbins joints all over town?" "But does Dunkin' Donuts offer you a discount if you buy ice cream and coffee?" I leaned forward again and smiled at him. "Look at our menu. It's cheaper if you get both. Only the Kamikaze Shack does that, buddy." "So basically, you eat the ice cream and... sort of, drink the coffee when you're not eating the ice cream?" "Yeah. It's pretty awesome." "Alright," he said. "I'll try it." "You got it." Two minutes later, I handed him the cup of ice cream, with the shiniest spoon I could find, and a medium iced coffee with whipped cream on top. "How much is that?" he asked, rubbing his chiseled jaw. "This... it's on the house." "What?" he asked, leaning into the window of the truck. "It's free, take it." He swallowed. "What do you mean `it's free'? Tell me how much it costs, man." "Dude," I said, "it's free, okay. I'm giving it to you for free. It's on the house. Just take it." He shook his head. He squinted his eyes. He looked up at me again. His deep-set brown eyes rested on my own green eyes. "Alright," he said, backing away. "But you're sure about this, right? I don't want you to get into trouble." I reassured him. "Well, thanks, man. This looks really good." "Come back, again," I said. "It won't be free next time." He laughed. As he walked away, I caught a glimpse of his round ass in his jeans and I couldn't pull my eyes away. I took five dollars out of my wallet and put it in the register. When I looked up again, I could still see him walking away. That ass... Wrestlers always have nice backsides and we get a few wrestlers coming by the Kamikaze Shack once in a while, because we're only two blocks away from the main gym on campus. "What is the Kamikaze Shack?" you ask. If you haven't figured it out by now, the Kamikaze Shack, where I work, is a commercial truck not unlike your traditional ice cream truck, except that we sell ice cream and coffee. Yes, this is sort of a rip off of Dunkin' Donuts, as the wrestler astutely picked up on before, but business is booming, and a booming business is paying for my apartment. Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Brady, I'm 20 years old, and I'm a sophomore in college in California. I've been working at the Kamikaze Shack for six months now, since the middle of freshman year; I hated it at first, spending my nights in this stinky white truck, but it's not so bad anymore. I get to meet some pretty interesting people, like the professor who stumbles out of his lab drunk at 10 PM demanding pumpkin-flavored ice cream (which we don't have, by the way) or the blonde that always asks for a "vente" cappuccino when the menu clearly says small, medium, and large. Working at the Kamikaze Shack isn't so bad (I increased my load recently to five nights a week), especially when you get to meet hot little wrestlers like the dude that just dropped by. Yeah, he's my type. I'm 6'2 and I was an All-State ice hockey player in Colorado before I came to California for college. I'm about 195 lbs. of 100 percent grade A jock beef, and I have dark brown hair and green eyes. I have to admit, I get weak in the knees when I see really shredded guys shorter than me sauntering out of the gym with their Adidas gym bags slung over the shoulders. It's funny. I've had girlfriends all through high school and freshman year in college, and, yeah, I have checked out guys for years, but I never really wanted to be with one until I came to California. Maybe I just needed to get out of Colorado. I didn't want to leave at first. I wanted to go to a state school in Colorado and play hockey, but my dad insisted that I come out to California, to his alma mater. My school does not have an ice hockey team, but my dad persuaded me to come out here anyway. He said that I could always play intramural and that I was good enough to join a minor league squad after college if I was still interested. I didn't buy that argument at first, but then he said that at least one of his sons had to go to his alma mater, and I didn't want to let him down. My older brother, Eric, had gone to junior college for two years before going into construction full time, so it was up to me to come here so Dad could say that one of his sons followed in his footsteps. Now here I am: an ice hockey player in school in California (where there is no ice), working on an ice cream truck part-time to pay the bills. I'm a chemistry major and it's Tuesday morning, which means I'm sitting in Organic Chemistry listening to Dr. Fink talk about the twenty-six steps to synthesize cholesterol. I should be taking notes, but, damn, I can't get that wrestler out of my mind. He looked pretty lean, maybe only 130, but it was all muscle, even his deltoids popped out of his shirt when he reached up to take the ice cream and the coffee yesterday. He's probably 5'6 or 5'8 and I'm over six feet, so I'm much bigger than him, but I could still imagine him lying underneath me, his legs bent back behind his head, his hands running up and down my back and my thighs. I could hear his moans of pleasure. Damn, I wonder if he'll come back tonight. "I don't understand," said a voice next to me. "What?" I whispered. "I missed that step. How did that oxygen end up with a double bond?" I chuckled. "I don't know," I said. "I wasn't really paying attention." We were seated two rows from the back and the lecture hall was fuller than usual today, over three hundred people. "What are you thinking about?" she asked. This was Trish, a friend from freshman year and almost girlfriend, I guess. Yeah, I don't really know what's going on with me. I'm definitely not straight anymore... maybe I'm bi? "I guess I didn't really get that much sleep last night." "But we're still on for tonight, right?" Trish asked. "I mean, this movie looks pretty good and you wanted to see it." "Yeah, we're still on. Chuck is letting me close the shack at 8:45 so we can definitely make that movie at 9:20. It's a date." "Huh?" "Um... I mean, we're on. The date is on. Or...um... I'll be there. You know what I mean?" Trish laughed. "I gotcha. But, honestly, you're about as straightforward as a letter from a prisoner serving twenty years for assault. They only want to fuck." "What?" I asked, sitting up straighter in the uncomfortable chairs in the lecture hall. Someone sitting in front of us turned around and said "Shhhh!" "I was watching Tru TV again." "Ah," I whispered. "You and your prison tats fetish. I guess women have fetishes too." "Shut up!" said Trish, and laughed. "Wait, is lecture over already? Shit, I'm ten steps behind on this cholesterol thing. Do you think it'll be on the final?" "Um... yeah," I said. "It'll probably be question number one." "God, what was I thinking taking organic chemistry?" "Med school." "Yeah, bad idea." "No comment," said I, looking down at my notebook. The page was completely blank, other than the date at the top. Damn that wrestler! I haven't been able to concentrate on anything since he showed up at the Kamikaze Shack yesterday. I packed up my bookbag. "Trish!" yelled a voice from behind us. I recognized the voice right away. It was Nate Holderman, second string quarterback on the football team, but one ACL tear away from being starter. I don't have to paint a picture for you; you've seen him before. Blond. Tanned. Thick ass and legs. About 6'3. Very hot, but about as smart as a first-grader on the first day of school. Friendly and nice, but still sort of a tool. Never seen his car, but he looks like he drives a big yellow Hummer. "Hey, Nate," said Trish, turning around. "What are you up to?" "Nothing, I just came to remind you about tonight." "What do you mean `about tonight'?" Trish turned and looked at me, but I shrugged. I had no idea what the guy was talking about. "We're still on for tonight, right?" Nate asked, smile about as wide as Alaska (which you can see Russia from, by the way). "I don't know what you're talking about," Trish replied. "Study group," said Nate. "You didn't forget, did you? Last week we said we'd study for our Russian Lit test on the 16th, which is today. At 8 PM. We even convinced those two Russian dudes to join us, remember? Score!" "Shit," said Trish. "I totally forgot." "I figured," said Nate. "No, we can still do it, but can we make it earlier? Like 6?" "I have a meeting for football," said Nate. "I can barely make 8. And, before you ask, I can't do it any other day this week." Trish sighed. "It's alright," I said. "I can go to the movies by myself. That'll be completely... awesome." "Brady!" yelled Nate. He moved over to me and clapped me on the shoulder. "I didn't see you there. You're taking this class?" "Yeah," I replied. "I've been taking it since it started, a month ago." "Oh. Weird. But, we're still on, right, Trish?" "Yeah, we're on," and Trish rolled her eyes at me as Nate walked away. "I'll pick you up at 8," said Nate. "You can't miss my car. It's a Hummer." "I thought you liked him," I said, looking away. "I don't know," said Trish. "He's no Brad Bateman. You know, junior, baseball team, big and stupid." "I don't want to hear about the other guys you're interested in, Trish," I said. "It's too weird." "Well, what am I supposed to do?" Trish asked. "I practically offer my vag to you on a daily basis and you don't seem remotely interested. Well, other than that night two months ago." "That was fun." "But, what's up with that?" "I don't want to be tied down, alright?" I asked. "I mean, this is college, is it so hard to believe that I want to have options?" "No, but... whatever," said Trish. "Have fun at the movies... by yourself." "Such a bitch." She laughed as she walked away. "By sweetie," she said. She was too pretty to be a fag hag and I'm technically still straight, but... you get the picture. So, now, it's 8:45 and I'm closing up the Kamikaze Shack. It was a slow night, and there was no sign of the brick-wrestler-shithouse, but business was still pretty good. I turned off the lights, took off the awesome purple apron that Chuck, owner of the Kamikaze Shack, makes me wear, and jumped down out of the back of the truck. I turned around and locked the doors to the rear of the truck. "I don't think I'll go to the movie after all," I thought to myself. "Kind of lame, going by yourself." I had already started to walk away from the truck when I realized that I wasn't carrying my bookbag, so I jumped back in to grab it. When I came back out, there was a guy in a windbreaker looking up at me. Same look as before. "Hey," said the wrestler. "Are you closed?" "Yeah," I replied. I couldn't pull my eyes away for about five seconds so we just stood there, and then I suddenly looked down the street. "Sorry, man, we just closed. Did you want to try the ice cream and coffee again? I didn't think you would come back." "I had to come back," said the wrestler, laughing. "It was pretty incredible, especially the coffee, and I don't have any matches coming up so I can eat ice cream again if I want to. I at least have to pay you back for the free stuff." "You don't have to pay me back for that." "No, I do," he said. "That was a pretty awesome thing to do." "Um... if you want I can open up the truck again?" "Don't worry about it," said the wrestler. "Are you headed home?" "Yeah," said I. "I guess. I was supposed to go to a movie, but my date bailed on me." "Oh yeah? What movie where you going to see?" "I don't know," I lied. Then I laughed. "Actually, it was 'Homicidal Space Babes Invade Indiana'." "Oh, I've been wanting to see that." "Really?" I asked. Then I swallowed hard. I looked back at him and the look he shot back at me convinced me that I wasn't totally off base, so I went for it. "Do you... maybe, want to... um, go with me to see 'Homicidal Space Babes Invade Indiana'?" "Um... yeah," he said. "That would be sweet. Is it now?" "We have half an hour," I said. "My car's in the parking lot behind the gym." "Let's go." "So, um," I stammered as we walked toward the parking lot. "What's your name?" "Nick," he replied, looking at me again. "Nick," I thought to myself. That's awesome. "Do you wrestle?" I asked. "I mean, you kind of look like a wrestler." "Yeah, I'm on the wrestling team," he said. "That's pretty sweet," I said. "I played ice hockey for eight years but they don't have it here, so... My name's..." "Brady." "Shit!" I said. "How'd you know? That's so weird." "You're still wearing your name tag." "Oh. Duh." I ripped off the name tag. Jesus, no one (male or female) has ever made me lose my cool like this. What the fuck is going on? "It looks like we're here," I said, after we reached my car. I drive an old Nissan so I had to manually unlock the doors. "Hop in." Well, "Homicidal Space Babes Invade Indiana" was not nearly as exciting as the title led me to believe, but it was fun getting to spend almost two hours with Nick. Well, most of it was fun. I spent most of the time trying to resist an urge to put my arm around him and that wasn't fun. He mentioned in the car that he had gotten into a fight with his roommate and that he didn't want to go home until later, so when I offered him the chance to have a beer in my apartment he accepted. Nick walked in and plopped down on the couch. I tossed him the remote for the television. "Watch whatever you want," I said. "Fucking Roethlisberger," Nick said, shaking his head at the television. "What's this douche up to this time?" "Dude, it looks like we're about to find out." "Are you a Steelers fan?" Nick asked, lying down on the couch. "I guess I'm a Broncos fan," I said. "I'm from Colorado. Honestly, I'm more into hockey. My dad used to work in Buffalo, so I'm a Sabres fan." "I don't know shit about hockey." "You're missing out." I tossed him a beer, and then I tossed him the can opener. "Good thing you didn't open it before you tossed it." "How many do you want?" "I can only have one," said Nick. "We're not supposed to drink during the season. Alcohol is probably the worst thing you can take in when you're trying to keep your weight down." "Really?" "Almost." I grabbed a beer for myself and sat down on the floor. I leaned my back against the couch that Nick was lying on. "Do you like working at the Kamikaze Shack?" he asked. He was wearing a tight blue shirt and I could see every detail of his chest. Those nipples were sticking out again. He also was wearing baggy jeans again and that butt and those thighs were still noticeable. He wore a little too much hair gel, but somehow he still looked amazing. God, where did this dude come from? "The Kamikaze Shack? It's alright," I said. "Actually, I kinda like it. I only get minimum wage, but it's an easy job. And I get to meet cool people, you know, people like you." Nick sat up and looked at me. "You think I'm cool?" he asked. "Yeah." "Shit, you know, I'm having all kinds of problems on my team," he said. "I got into a fight with this prick Rick yesterday, he always leaves his shit all around the locker room." "Oh yeah?" "And he thinks it's funny when he sneaks some of it into your locker, so, yesterday, he snuck his jock in my locker and left it on top of my clean clothes and I just flipped out. Everybody thought it was funny, but it's fucking ridiculous, I mean, it's gross. This is not fucking high school." "He's just trying to get under your skin," I said. "Well, I think he's fucking retarded." I laughed. "I don't know, man." We each had about three more beers after that. "Dude, I don't think I can drive you home," I said. "These beers are starting to get to me." "It's alright," Nick said. "I live like five minutes away. Or maybe I'll just spend the night here." "Huh?" "Shit, I didn't even ask you if you have a roommate," said Nick. "I don't," I said. "Wait. You want to spend the night here?" "Do you care?" "No." "God," said Nick, "I'm so fucking horny. That movie sucked, but those space babes were fine as hell." I laughed again. "What made them want to go to Indiana, though?" "I don't know," said Nick. There was about five minutes of silence after that, as we finished off our last bottles of beer. "Do you have any porn?" Nick asked, slapping me on the shoulder. "I don't have any videos, and my laptop's down." "Do you want to jerk off, then?" "Huh?" "I mean, I can jerk you off, until you cum, and you can do the same for me." "A hand job?" I asked. "Yeah." No hesitation there. "Hell yeah, let's do it." Nick slid off the couch and sat next to me, on the floor in front of the TV. He kicked off his shoes and then he pulled down his jeans and tossed them to a corner of the room. He started to take off his boxers, but, before that, he gave me this deep look, a look that said "This is gonna be awesome" and I wanted to kiss him so bad, but I thought he might flip out, so I didn't. I've never kissed a guy before, but this guy made my mind wander to strange places. After his boxers came off, he sat there next to me with just his tight t-shirt on. His rock-hard cock rested against his tight abs. I was still dressed and, by now, my cock was hard as a rock too. Nick must have seen my cock throbbing underneath my jeans because he reached over and grabbed my cock over the fabric. "That's fucking huge," he said. "I know," I said. "Are your balls big too?" "Yeah," I replied. "Fuck," Nick said. Right then I could see that he wanted to kiss me too, he kept looking at my lips, but he was holding himself back. He took off his shirt. I unzipped my jeans and Nick pulled them off. After that, I took off my shirt and Nick couldn't pull his eyes away. He told me later that my hairy chest was awesome, but it was kind of an exaggeration. I only started getting hair on my chest last year and there was some straight brown hair around the deep cleft in the middle of my chest and around my nipples. As I pulled off my boxers, Nick started sucking on my nipples. "Fuck," he said a couple times. "This is so hot," I said. My cock slapped against my chest when I finally got my underwear down around it. Before I knew it, Nick was leaning over me and his right hand was working my cock. "I might have to double fist this fucker," he said, continuing to jerk my cock. I laughed. "Dude, whatever, you wanna do, man," I said. I reached over and grabbed Nick's cock. His cock wasn't bottle-thick like mine, but it was long with a large thick head at the top. I started working his cock as fast and furiously as he was working mine. In no time, I saw that he had a spot of precum on the top of his cock head. He was double-fisting my cock and sucking on my nipples at the same time. He went from one nipple to the next. As he did that, I started to move my hand down toward his hole. I slid a finger in, and Nick leaned back. "God," he said. "You're gonna make me cum." I leaned over him and used one hand to jerk him off and the other to finger him. I slid two fingers in. "Stop," he said. "You want me to stop?" "No," said Nick, "you're gonna make me cum." I slid the third finger into his ass, his tight wrestler hole swallowing them up. His ripped body with its erect nipples bucked on my hand. His moans were incredible. "Shit!" Nick yelled. "I'm cumming! I'm cumming! Ah!" and I sat back and watched with a smile as shot after shot of white cum spurted out of his cock, made an arc in the air, and landed on his chest. One jet landed on his chin. "Fuck!" Nick said. I leaned over him and licked the cum that was hanging off his chin. Then I kissed him. I put my body on top of his and kissed his mouth and his neck. "I want to fuck you so bad," I said. "Yeah?" Nick asked. "I can't stop thinking about you under me," I whispered. "I want you so bad. My cock is so hard right now." "Alright, I'll let you fuck me this time," Nick said, laughing. "Yeah?" "Yeah." After I put the condom on, I positioned my dick close to his tight hole. I bent his legs back in the air and he held them back for me. He looked down at his hole as I slid my cock in. "Oh my god," he said. "Oh my god." "Does it hurt?" I asked, as I started to work my thrusts into a rhythm. My cock had only gotten halfway in so far. "Do you want me to stop?" "No," said Nick. His moans came out in perfect beat with my thrusts. "Don't stop," he said. "Fuck me." "You want me to fuck you?" I asked. "You want this dick?" "Yeah," Nick said, moaning in pleasure. "I want it. Give it to me." As I thrust my cock in and out of Nick's hole, Nick grabbed one of my biceps with one of his hands and began to rub it. I loved when girls did that to me during sex and it was even hotter when a tight little wrestler like Nick did it. It made me feel so good. He slid his arm down my back and then down to my thigh. He pulled my thighs toward him as if wanting me to shove my cock deeper into his ass. I kissed him. "Give me all of it," he said. I shoved my cock all the way in and Nick tossed his head back in pleasure. When he brought his head forward again, I kissed him, and we spent the rest of the time like that: kissing and fucking. "I'm gonna cum again," said Nick. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum again." Next thing I knew, Nick's body got really tight under me and the cum began to shoot out of his dick. The cum landed on his abs, which had started to shine from all the sweat from our fucking. "I'm almost there," I said. I pounded Nick even harder than before. He hugged my body closer to his and bucked back and forth on my eleven inch dick like a champ. My huge balls slapped against his tight ass and he moaned more loudly than before. "That's it," I said. "I'm coming." Nick's muscle ass was so tight that it almost pushed my dick out of him. I pulled off the condom and stood over Nick's chest. A feeling like an electric shock coursed towards my dick as the cum shot out and I closed my eyes. "Oh my god, Nick," I said. "Fuck!" It was the biggest load I had ever shot and Nick's chest was covered in my sticky cum. Even when the feeling of amazing release was gone, there still seemed to be cum that wanted to come out. Nick sat up and grabbed my dick, squeezing out the last bit of cum. There was now a strand of cum hanging off my dick. Nick leaned forward, licked the cum off the head of my dick, and took my cock into his mouth. I tossed my head back as this little guy deep-throated my dick. He swallowed the last bit of cum that was still inside my cock. "Oh my god," I said. "That was incredible," said Nick, after he brought his chiseled face off my dick. TO BE CONTINUED [Usual disclaimer: do not read if it is illegal to read material of this nature in your country, state, or territory. E-mail me at the address above with typos or suggestions. Take it easy, guys!] Copyright 2010