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Nick's Dark Spark


I was a sophomore, and it was my first year on the Tomahawk Hatchet varsity wrestling team.  I had a shaky start but had won eleven of my last twelve matches, and all of my last nine.  I was on a roll.  It was the week before the WIAA tournament in Madison, and we had a big match with our main rival for the team state championship the next day.   The evening before we were invited over to the coaches house for a big spaghetti dinner.

Nick was there, which was strange.   He was a senior and something of a local legend. He was the best wrestler in his class in the state, and some said possibly the best all-around wrestler in the state in the past decade.  But he never really hung-out with the team.   He'd disappear after practices and matches. It wasn't because he was stuck up, more that he was kind of a loner.   He had a small group of friends with who he was pretty tight, also a pretty girlfriend from a nearby high-school school.   He had a bunch of scholarship offers which he was weighing.  He was also a great long-distance runner.  Rumor was that he'd do double marathons all by himself.  He was tough like that.

After dinner we all went into the den, huddled around the fireplace, and started talking about the the upcoming meet, and the likely brackets for the WIAA in Madison.   When it came round to discussing my opponents, I was surprised when Nick actually spoke up.  He offered very constructive criticism, like “you do this well” or  “in that match, I would have done that this instead”, which surprised me because it meant that he had actually watched my matches.  In fact it was like he had been taken notes.

We broke up around nine  I was going to call my parents for a ride home but was again surprised when  Nick offered to drive me home.  I felt elated, like I'd been admitted into the inner circle.  Only he had to drop by his house on the way home.   When we got there nobody was home.  He invited me in.  We went up to his bedroom.  By the side of his bed were an old pair of high-top basketball sneakers with velcro straps, spray-painted gold.   He noticed me looking at them and said they were a good luck charm and had originally been from a super-hero Halloween costume.  The must have worked:  all the shelves in his room were lined with trophies in lots of sports, not just wrestling, which he must have been collecting since he was out of diapers.  As I was checking them out he put his hands on my shoulders and started to squeeze them.   There was something about his touch, and it was as if a shock electricity was shooting through my body.  He said "you're tight.  Let me loosen you up.  It will help tomorrow."   It's funny now  how prophetic those words were.

He told me to take my shirt off and lay face down on his bed.  He straddled my back and massaged powerfully, deeply.  It both hurt and felt really good, sensations which characterize our future relations.  Under his warm hands I relaxed to the point of feeling almost drunk.  I may have even nodded off.  He slowly worked his way down.   When he got to my lower back he said “is it OK to take your pant off so I can  work your legs and gluts?”  I said “sure”', reached down, undid my belt and pants.  He took my sneakers off and then pulled my pants off in one quick pull.  Then, without asking, he took my briefs off.  I knew I was naked but before I could say anything his powerful hands were working my gluts.  He remarked “you have big muscles back here.  Do lots of squats”.  “Yeah”.  Then he said “how much cardio do you do?”  I said I did the treadmill for a half an hour three times a week.”   He said “that's not enough.  you need to do a lot more to improve my tone and endurance” and then  “You need to train for a marathon in the off-season sometime, like me.” 

He worked each of my legs, first the hamstrings and then reaching underneath to work my quads.  He started at the knee level.  As he worked is way up I felt myself starting to get aroused as he worked my inner thighs.   His fingers would touch my nuts.  I guess he sensed my nervousness and said “relax”.   When he was done with my legs he started working my gluts again, only he was spreading them apart.  I could feel the air on my anus.  Then I felt something very different: his warm lips on my right buttock, then my left, and then something warm and moist on my anus: his tongue.  I didn't know what to do because it felt so strange and incredibly good.  I turned around.  Somehow he had gotten naked.  He had a beautiful body, muscular, ripped, like one of those guys on the cover of Men's Fitness who I so much wanted to look like. Most beautiful of all was the large erection between his legs.  He said “I want to give you my spark”, and then lowered his head and started licking my asshole again, spitting on it, probing it with the tip of his tongue.  Then he started to add fingers, occasionally muttering “that feel good?”  All I could manage was “yeah . . . “  Then he slowly moved up my back, kissing and licking along my spine as he went, finally arriving at the nape of my neck, which as he kissed and nibbled I felt myself turn to jelly.  I could feel his boner moving up and down in the crack of my ass.   He whispered in my ear “now I'm going to give you my spark”.

He reached down and positioned his cock, rubbing its large head back and forth across my hole, pushing on it more and more with each pass.  Then he started to enter me.   It really, really hurt at first and he said “take a deep breath and it won't hurt so much”.  He was right.  And slowly he put it in deeper and deeper until he whispered “I'm all the way in”.  He then turned my head and for the first time kissed me full on the lips, inserting his tongue.  No one had ever done that to me before.

He slowly moved his cock in and out of my ass while he continued to kiss my neck and mutter “sexy boy”.  He said “it feels good, doesn't it?” and I couldn't really answer because I was moaning.  After a few minutes he started to go a little harder and said “try not to cum”.  The he stopped thrusting and just started pushing.  Then suddenly he stopped, his body started to shake, he let out a moan, collapsed on my back and said “now you have my spark.”

We got dressed.  He drove me home, saying nothing, as though nothing had happened.  When we got to my house he said “don't jerk off tonight.  Hold on our power.” and then “I'll need my spark back after your match” as I got out of the car.

When I got home I was aware that my ass was sore, but it also felt good.  To be honest, it was like I'd just taken a huge dump.   I didn't know what to make of what happened, but as I lay in my bed all I could think of was Nick's piercing blue eyes, beautiful naked body, and large erection. I couldn't sleep.  I was worried that I was going to be tired and fuck up my match.

It didn't.  In fact it was one of the easiest decisions I'd ever had.  All Nick said to me the entire day was “good-luck” before and “great job!” afterward.  I slept for most of the two hour bus ride back to Tomahawk.  When we got back to the school I was in the process of calling my parents for a ride when Nick again offered to ride me home.  We walked to the parking lot in back of the school in silence. As we approached his car he said “you know you need to give me my spark back”.   He took my hand and led me into the wooded area at the end of the parking lot.  When we got behind a tree, he took me in his arms, and we started deep kissing as he put his hands down my pants and fondled me.  Again it was like a shock went through my body.  His hand felt so good on my cock and nuts that it got hard instantly.   He said “you have a nice piece of equipment.  I could tell.  You look so sexy in your singlet, especially when you get wood in the middle of your matches.”  I knew this happened sometimes, only I hoped that nobody had noticed.  Obviously Nick had.  He knelt down, undid my pants, unzipped my fly, pulled down my pants and underpants, and started to blow me.  “Try not to cum in my mouth” he said.  His warm mouth felt so good on my cock, while he handled my balls.  He said “you have a nice dick!” and “man, you pre-cum a lot!”   After about a minute he got up, kissed me, and said “time to give me back my spark, little bro!”

He turned around and pulled down his pants.  He reached around with both hands and spread his butt-cheeks apart.  He said “put your cock against my asshole and spit down”.  After I did that he said “push it in”. It took a lot of pressure but eventually my cock started to enter his ass.  I could see him wince and I stopped.  He said – almost yelled – “don't stop!” and I kept on pushing it until I was all the way in.  His ass was so warm and tight and felt so good around my boner.  Then he put his hands up against the tree and said “fuck me hard!”  And I did, but no matter how hard I fucked he kept on saying “harder!”  I couldn't have lasted more than a couple of minutes when felt a huge nut race up my shaft and yelled “oh God!”

I took it out as soon as I was done unloading and hiked up my pants as fast as I could.  Nick turned around.  Sweat was dripping from his face even though it was cold, like 25 degrees out.  He was smiling and said, breathlessly, “big load?”  “Pretty big, I think” I replied. Then he said “great fuck!” and pulled up his pants and we walked to his car.

On the ride home we just talked about my match, again he told me what I did well and how I could improve.  Then out of the blue he said “when did you first know you were into guys?”  “Last night?” I said with a nervous laugh.  “Seriously” he responded  “I knew since I was at least twelve”.  “I guess I was about that about that old, too”, for the first time being honest with myself about this dark secret I'd kept hidden for the past three years.  “You're really cute” he said.  “You know at least half the team messes around with each other.”  Then he got real serious “never let that old assistant coach invite you over for dinner.  Major butt-hole bandit!  He gave Mike a roofie or something and when he came too some fat guy he didn't know was was fucking him while the old perv was taping it!” As I got out of the car he said “you want to start training with me bro?”   Fully realizing that it would involve the exchange of sparks, I said “yeah, that'd be awesome!”

After showing my parents my latest ribbon and hearing them once again tell me how proud they were, I went to take a shower.  As I pulled down my pants, I noticed a small dark blood-stain on the front of my briefs.  When pulled them down, I noticed my cock was covered by a thin film of dried maroon blood – Nick's.

Over the next several months Nick and I trained together, and he made a long-distance runner of me, too.  He taught me how to make love to a man as a man, and we exchanged many sparks, both together and with several other members of the secret brotherhood he referred to as 'spark-plugs'.   He loved to make movies of us: we'd all wear masks. We freely exchanged our power: between spark-plugs, it was all about trust.   Frequently when I'd eat Nick's ass I'd taste the power of another spark-plug's who'd been there earlier that day.   He was a self-confessed sex-addict who needed to have sex several times a day, and most nights he'd sleep with his girlfriend.

The night before he left for college twelve of us, including four brothers from Chicago, gathered around a camp fire deep in the woods and filled his ass and mouth with our power.  Nick said he loved tasting his ass on a cock as it unloaded in his mouth.  And when we were done, after he'd unloaded several times, he went to his girlfriend's.

Nick had accepted a full scholarship to a university in the middle of nowhere that was trying to move up to Div. 1.  Only things didn't go well for him.  He had his first losing season ever, and decided to take a year off.  Rumor was that he was involved in a rocky love affair with another teammate, who wanted more than an exchange of sparks.  He became known as the team's drama king.  When the other guy disclosed the affair to the coach, Nick was dismissed from the team and lost his scholarship.  The last I checked they removed his name from their roster and all records of his matches. It was as if he had never been there.

After Nick left, the spark-plugs of Tomahawk fell apart.  We all have girl-friends and occasionally we'll get together to discreetly scratch that itch.  But it's not the same.  His shear physical beauty and personal magnetism was the glue.  Nick could get us to do anything.  I hear he's living with his girlfriend in Madison and his hoping to wrestle for the Badgers next year.  Someone told me he goes to Chicago to play with spark-plugs down there, but he never comer back to Tomahawk.  There are times I want to call him tell him to meet me in some park down there where I'd be waiting for him, my pants hiked down below my knees, legs spread wide apart, hands against a tree, and he'd give me his dark spark  again.

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