Guysmiley's blog

I know you've seen them; inordinately tall with long limbs, flexible, with broad shoulders, and usually defined abdominal area, a look that is indeed, fashionable in all seasons. I stumbled into my first experience with one of these lean machines in college. I was heading toward the campus library when, as I passed the outdoor pool area, I heard a loud cheer from inside the wall. I couldn't help myself, but darted into the enclosure to see what all the hubbub was about. There, in the water, was a team of men, a few others by the sidelines, passing a ball back and forth over the surface of the water to the yells and encouragement of the crowd. I may have been raised in Arizona, but I still knew I was in the midst of my first water polo match. I sat down in the nearest seat to watch. Actually, I had no idea in the moment which team was ours, and it took several minutes of comparing the rubber head gear they wore to the banners waving to determine. I was glad to find out that our team was in the lead by two goals. The ball bounced across the water from mate to mate until, with a huge almost porpoise like leap, one of our team threw the ball and in spite of their goalies best efforts, scored another goal. At that moment, the timer went off and the stands erupted with cheers as we had just won the match. I watched from my seat as this team of fish-like Adonis-built bodies climbed from the pool, lined up, then congratulated the other team. All very sportsman like in their behavior. Everyone one of them had that same swimmers build, so beautiful, like poetry in motion. As for me, I couldn't take my eyes off number 25, the man who'd just scored the goal. He was music to my ears as I watched his perfectly formed body amongst the lesser men who crowded around to congratulate hm. Then, like a poof of magic, they were gone, trotting off to the locker room for showers and into regular clothes. Oh to be able to join them, I thought, as my groin ached with excitement. I sat in my spot as the crowd thinned, not wanting anyone to notice my predicament. Soon I was alone.

I was still sitting there when I heard a door open across the pool. I glanced up and to my surprise, number 25 was coming back into the pool area. Even more to my surprise was to find him sans his rubber helmet, but still in his speedos. Needless to say, I couldn't take my eyes off him as he went to pool side and slipped down into the water. My erection started acting up again, as I watched him spread his broad shoulders and arms out along the side of the pool, bringing his abs to the surface as his long legs flutter kicked in the water. I'm pretty sure my mouth was agape as I watched him. Until he spoke.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer." My face turned several shades of purple at being discovered. I started to get up, ready to make a run for it, when he spoke again. "Why don't you just come over here and talk to me?" I was stopped in my tracks, but wanting to make sure he was talking to me, I pointed back at myself, tilting my head just a little to emphasize the question.

"Of course, you. Do you see anybody else out here besides me?" I couldn't help but look around the area, just to make sure before I shook my head no. "Then get on over here."

I picked up my book bag and made my way slowly to his side of the pool. I went slowly, hoping the remnants of my hard on would dissipate before I got too close. Of course, holding my bag in front of my body helped. He turned over in the water, his bent arms now spread out on either side, his chin on his hands, watching me as I approached. His legs continued in a kick pattern under the water causing a small wave in the surface with each rotation. I was mesmerized as I watched his legs but I could feel my erection starting up again as my view took in his tapered back that was so small at his waist, and yet huge as it opened up into his shoulders. And I think I almost came in my shorts as I noticed his triceps. defined horseshoes bigger than any I'd ever seen,

"Why don't you strip down and join me," he asked? My mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. "I won't tell if you don't."

I stood for another few moments, our eyes locked on each other. Then I took the plunge. I dropped my book bag and started stripping. It's not that I was ashamed of my own body, but this was something new for me. His eyes never wavered off me as I started with my outer shirt, then t-shirt, exposing my upper torso. I was no wimp, but I stood only 5'7" in height and weighed 170lbs. But for my size, I had broad shoulders and a barrel shaped chest that lowered to a visible six pack of abs. I kicked off my tennis shoes and pulled off my socks, then lowered my pants, exposing my thin waist supported by well developed quads and calves. I saw him lick his lips as I stood there in my skivvies. He dropped under the water for a few seconds and when he came up, he plopped his speedos pool side. I'm pretty sure, my eyes enlarged to the size of saucers. But that's also when my dick decided to show itself at full mast, sticking its' head out through the front opening of my boxers. I was completely embarrassed by this flagrant display of my manhood, when he suddenly put his hands flat on the siding of the pool and hoisted himself upward, halfway out of the water for me to see his own fully engorged erection. As he settled back in the water, he held out a hand. I moved forward, thinking we were going to shake or something. As his grasp closed on my hand, he suddenly propelled himself backward in the water with a kick of his legs, and I was pulled headfirst into the water, skivvies and all, landing in a sort of belly flop. I would be the first to admit I was not an accomplished swimmer. In addition, my eyes burned from the chlorine. I was fighting to get back to the surface when I felt hands grab my boxers and yank them down toward my ankles. I looked down to see them now in his hands. My head cleared the surface followed closely by his. We were both treading water. He came in close and before I could even think about what he was doing, he placed his lips on mime. Our eyes met, Then his powerful swimmer legs brought him up out of the water, he put his hand on top of my head, and he shoved me under water.

I came up gasping and sputtering. I spun around, looking for him, to find him back at poolside, in the same position I had first seen him in. I dogpaddled back toward him. Even in the water, I could see his hard on, as I have no doubt he could mine. As I got close his legs stopped paddling and instead, wrapped around my waist. With no warning, or obvious effort, he yanked me under water. In my panic, I was floundering and exhaled all my air as his legs squeezed me. I popped back up above the surface but only managed to get a small breath in when I was plunged under the surface again. But my thoughts were a bit more prepared this time. I tried to separate this legs, but instead, he simply squeezed harder, driving my air out again. Then he brought me up again.

"Stop, I can't breath," was all I managed to blurt out before he pulled me under again. His squeeze was like that of a python, I'm pretty sure, but I had to do something to break his hold. I did the only thing I could think of in the moment, I grabbed his engorge dick and bent it downward as hard as I could, crushing his balls. I heard his scream clear under the water and as his grip let go, I popped up to the surface. Only he was no longer screaming. Instead he was laughing.

"No one has ever thought of that defense," he said, still laughing. My anger was dissipating swiftly. He came away from poolside, put his hands under my arms, and with no effort, exchanged places, my back now to the poolside, his legs holding him in the water. He leaned in for the second time, kissing me not only with his lips, but adding some tongue. Then a hand engulfed my hardness. He broke away from my lips for a second. "I'm Max, by the way."

I'm pretty sure we both left some cum in the pool that evening, and it wouldn't be the last time either. Good thing they use strong chlorine.

We've all had it happen - no shows. But honestly, I don't get it. I issued a challenge for a match for January 1 and a local fellow responded. We messaged back and forth on here for a bit until I was convinced, then I gave him my cell for easier communication. He then reciprocated and we chatted more, establishing the type of match, etc. I was convinced enough about him that I even cancelled the challenge.

But I guess my last message of the night going unanswered should have been a clue. He disappeared, no more replies, not through cell or mf, and of course, a no show at the hotel on the evening of January 1.

What a waste of time. Hence my original question. I can only assume this is what they actually get off on.

It was the second time we'd met over an Easter weekend with Kevin93 traveling out to Cali from Ohio for a pin/submission match. Plane an hour late due to weather in Denver but it didn't mess with our plans. After all, the owner of the ring we were renting was an hour late stuck in traffic, so it all worked out.

For months, he'd had been talking smack to me, how weak I'd become from my surgery, how he was going to kick my ass with the strength and muscle he'd gained since joining the Y and working out. My two word response had remained, "crush you!"

As the door to the storage unit that housed the ring closed, he smiled and added, "your ass is mine." He then retreated into the restroom to change. As he emerged in his blue singlet, I could actually see some physical changes since our last meet, leaner look, bigger pecs and biceps. But I said nothing as I went in to change as well.

Coming out in my black square cuts, he was already in the ring and I could feel his eyes on me. Honestly I'm about 20 pounds heavier than before my surgery, but working to get back down. But that hasn't affected my powerful looking body.

"Damn," he said as I climbed in the ring, "you're even bigger than before." His jaw dropped as I did a simple flex. He added, "Let's do this."

Straightway, he brought his hands up in a test of strength. As we locked fingers, I could actually feel that he had gained strength and had to bring a higher level of resistance into play before I could take control, bringing his hands down and putting pressure on his wrists. He danced around, a wincing look on his face as I bent his wrists further. I forced him to the mat, and ended up sitting on him in a classic school boy pin.

He tried to dislodge me by pressing up on my hands but he hadn't gained that much strength and I easily held him in place. I moved forward, my weight on his chest, my knees on his biceps. Not for lack of trying, he couldn't budge me and I counted a three count pin. First match belonged to me.

Getting up, we immediately locked up, each trying to gain advantage. I could see the increased size of his biceps, and maybe while a little distracted, he managed to take me down to my back. But that was his mistake as I brought my legs up, putting him in a closed guard, and squeezed. His face twisted in pain and my pythons brought that instant tap I was so used to and I let him go. We paused for a few, taking in some hydration before continuing.

Back in the ring, he charged at me. I met him head on and pushed him back into the corner. That's when I brought a knee up into his midsection, pleased to hear a nice OOMPH as it landed, forcing his air out.

I tossed him and as he landed, I grabbed his legs, putting on a figure 4. He held out nicely until I added some body weight and once again, he tapped. The match was going a bit one-sided, but not for lack of his trying.

Only now, I didn't let him back up but immediately straddled his back, facing forward. I pulled his arms up over my knees, locked my hands under his chin, and began putting pressure on with a camel clutch. I pulled back while putting my butt down on his lower back and as his body started to bend, his hands tapped on both knees. I shoved his head toward the floor as I stood up, him laying there moaning.

I dropped, not using my full body weight, dropping an elbow across his shoulder blades. His whole body reacted as the room echoed from the noise of me landing. I was just getting to my hands and knees when he moved swiftly, grabbing me in a balls to butt bear hug and drove me down onto mat. His arms tightened, and once again I could feel the increase in his level of strength. But even though he squeezed with all his might, it wasn't enough to make me tap and eventually, I broke free of his grasp. I pulled him between my legs and applied my leg scissor again. He arched as my pythons squeezed and he quickly tapped.

"Now that's a squeeze," I said, laughing as he rubbed his sides. He started to get up but I was faster. He was on his hands and knees when I got on his back in what I refer to as the "pony ride", my quads locked on just below the floating rib. I squeezed and he groaned loudly, tapping on my leg. I slid forward, now catching his neck in my scissor. He might have almost screamed as I squeezed until he tapped. When I let him go, he crashed to the mat, sucking in huge draughts of oxygen. This time, I had to bring him his hydration.

We took a few moments to hydrate and for him to catch his breath. As we started back up, we didn't even stand but started on our knees this time. Under hook, over hook, control the neck, push, shove, until I managed to slam him to his stomach on the mat. I grabbed his legs and twisted them into a figure four, putting pressure on the knee joint. He resisted, not wanting to tap again, so I added my body weight into the mix and he quickly gave in, tapping the mat.

Without completely letting go of the figure four, I rolled onto his back and grabbed his head under the chin with my left hand, pulling back on his head. I pulled him back far enough that he couldn't tap with his hands, and it was his garbled voice that shouted his surrender. I let go of both holds but as I got up, I turned to my own stomach and delivered a hard knee right into his side. OOMPH escaped his lips. I dropped an elbow across his shoulders, then grabbed him in a reverse head lock, cranking back on his neck. His hands pounded the mat 3 times hard.

I rolled him into my leg scissor again and began to squeeze. I started asking him if he was ready to quit. He resisted and I upped the anty, squeezing harder. I asked again, but he still resisted. More pressure and suddenly he was quitting, begging me to release him. I gave one more little increase in pressure, asking if he was sure. He was, and i let go, rolling him out of between my legs.

Now the real fun of the match was about to start for we had agreed that whoever gave up first got worked over until the winner was ready to say the loser had had enough. I dragged him to the corner of the mat and hoisted him to his feet. I wrapped his left arm around behind his back and took control of it with my left hand. I used my shoulder to push his right arm up and out of the way. That's when the first punch to his gut happened. His abs were tighter than the first time we[d met, but it wasn't too many punches directly into them that he was begging me to let go and stop.

"But that's not our agreement I chided him," and slammed a sideways knee into his left side. Another and some more punches and he started slipping to his knees. I stopped punching and grabbed him into a balls to balls bear hug, easily lifting him off the floor, my pressure causing him to arch back. I could have snapped him, but I was having too much fun. I dropped him back in the corner, in the same position as before and began punching him again. His abs were soft now and each punch dug in deeper. I switched to upper cuts, each with enough power to lift him off the floor. He began to sink again and I wrapped him in the bearhug again. Carrying him around the ring while squeezing, he was having trouble breathing. I let go and pushed him into the corner again, but he leaned into me full weight, unable to stand on his own.

A third time I bearhugged him and this time, you could almost hear his bones starting to bend, his head rested on my shoulder and I knew he'd had enough. I squeezed real hard, pressing out his breath, and then dropped him to the mat, unmoving.

"Now it's time for you to be my bitch," i said from above him. He looked at me and knew it was the truth, but what happened next is a story for another time.

This is just a little teaser I wrote for Will1991. Hope you all enjoy as much as he seems to be.

Will, aka Superboi ©GuySmiley 2015

Will wasn’t really Superman, he just liked to pretend, going so far as to buy a mock costume of the superhero and wearing it at varying times. Sometimes just lying around the house, others out in public where people could see him, not that he worried about that. After all, he had the build of a superhero, at least in his own mind. At 23 years of age, he stood above average at 5’10” and weighed just shy of 170 lbs. He had broad shoulders and a solid chest that tapered down to his chiseled abs, maybe not washboard yet, but strong and solid. His legs showed his passion for hiking with solid quads and calves that were the envy of many a young co-ed in high heels when he flexed them. Overall, he was proud of his body, and wearing the superman costume just added to his mystique.

On this particular evening, Will was out in public. The weather was cool, so he was comfortable in his costume, posing every once in a while for the passerby who wanted a memento of the quirky young man who was more than happy to oblige. That’s when he noticed the older gentleman standing off to one side, observing him as he posed, one hand on his hip, the other stretched out toward the sky, like he was getting ready to take off on some important mission. Even through his clothes, Will could see the man was well built, though he stood a few inches shorter than he. His arms made his shirt sleeves look to small, his chest pushing it out as well, and his defined abs showing through the cloth. His quads threatened the seams of his shorts as well. He was in great shape for someone of his apparent age. Will wasn’t sure what it was about the man, but he felt drawn to him. As the person taking his picture thanked him profusely, Will glanced up to find the older gentleman walking away and for some reason, decided to follow him.

They walked along, not too far, and Will stood back as he observed the man entering a house along the street. Will got closer and watched as a light came on in the front of the house and stayed on. Will had to think that this must be the man’s bedroom as no other light came on. He crept closer, being careful to stay in the shadows, no need to draw unwanted attention from nosy neighbors. He was still standing several feet away when the shades in the room opened, exposing the man standing inside the window without
his shirt on and Will could see just how muscular he really was. He felt a familiar stirring in his groin. The man opened the window but left the shades open. The light went out, and in spite of himself, Will drew closer, the thrill of the hunt in his heart as it pumped.

Will stood outside the window for what seemed like an eternity until he heard the man’s breathing move into a sleep pattern. Checking the area to make sure no one was watching, Will carefully removed the screen and with one more glance, carefully climbed into the room. As his feet settled on the carpet, he stood still, listening to the man’s breathing, but it hadn’t changed. He didn’t even really understand why he was where he was, he just knew he needed to be. Moving closer to the bed, he watched the man’s powerful chest move up and down, it almost seemed in slow motion. The man’s arms were lifted, hands cradling his head, and even in sleep, his biceps seemed huge. The covers of the bed were tossed to the side, only a sheet covering the man from waist down. Will wanted so bad to run his fingers down the striations that were the man’s abs. He stood there, his own breathing shallow but rapid. What to do, what to do? He could stand it no more and his hand reached down, index finger poised. Suddenly something similar to a vice grip closed on his wrist. He wanted to pull away, to escape, but the grip was so tight, Will started losing feeling in his hand.

“What the fuck are you doing in my room,” the cold voice asked in the darkness?

+++++++++++++++++++

Words failed him and Will couldn’t think of anything else to do, so he leveled a hammer fist type blow right into the old man’s groin with his free hand. Surprisingly enough, the blow was hard enough to cause the grip on his arm to loosen enough for Will to pull his arm free, but it also revealed the fact that the old man had a full hard on. This being revealed, within seconds, Will found himself suffering from the same predicament.
The grip on his hand must have been spring loaded because when it broke loose, Will went spiraling backward, crashing up against the wall. A hand closed on Will’s throat, the grip just as tight as it had been on his wrist. At the same time, a fist exploded into his abs with enough force to practically lift his feet off the floor. The hand on his neck let go and with his air completely gone, Will sank to his knees, gasping. A small light came on to reveal the old man standing over him in a fighting stance.

“Damn, you’re that kid from the park earlier,” the old man said.

“No shit, Sherlock,” Will replied sarcastically. “State the obvious often?”

Double hands grabbed Will by the throat this time and hoisted him clean off the floor, his back against the bedroom wall, feet dangling. His hands clawed at the forearms and biceps that held him in place but to no avail. Will felt himself starting to black out, circles of darkness starting from the edges of his eyesight.

“You’re not in a very good position to be such a smart ass,” the old man said, then let go of Will’s neck. Will crashed to the floor in a heap, choking and gurgling sounds all that came from his mouth. “But that’s still a fetching costume you have on, always been partial to superheroes myself.

Will’s eyesight cleared and he looked up to find the old man taking a seat on the edge of the bed. It was obvious even through the old man’s tidy whity’s that he was still turned on. Will could feel that his own boner had subsided some, most likely from the lack of oxygen.

“Now, maybe an answer to my original question,” the old man said, folding his arms across his chest, causing his biceps to stand out. Will felt his hard on bounce right back into place.

+++++++++++++++++++++
“May I,” Will asked, nodding toward the side of the bed where the old man sat?

“Sure, but try anything stupid and I’ll hurt you good.”

“Somehow, I don’t doubt that you would or could,” Will replied. Pushing up with his legs, hands face down against the wall, Will stood up and crossed the space to the bed. He sat down just a few inches from the old man’s right side.

“It looks to me like you got something going on in that costume just like I do,” the old man stated, chuckling gently. His gave his own stiffy a bit of a rub, then reached across and did the same to Will. In spite of himself, Will moaned at the touch. Reaching up, he placed his hand on the old man’s right bicep, wrapping his fingers around the muscle. The old man flexed, engaging his bicep and tricep simultaneously. Will squeezed but the baseball size orb held hard, like trying to squeeze a rock. Now Will really moaned, his engorgement going into overload as precum started seeping into the crotch of his costume.

“Let’s get a look of what you look like under that costume,” the old men said, leaning a bit to his left and grabbing a knife from the headboard. With one flick, it was open, and before he could say anything, Will felt the material pull and the entire side of his costume fell open, exposing his nakedness underneath. Getting up, the old man moved in front of Will, who was now able to grasp both of the old man’s arms. As he held them, the old man cut around his throbbing penis, exposing it. “Not bad for a cub.”

The old man reached up, dislodging Will’s hold from his arms and peeled the rest of costume off of Will. As he leaned in, Will moved his hands to the man’s thighs which bulged like oak trees. Another moan escaped his lips. The old man leaned in, rubbing his hands in Will’s hair, and closed his mouth over Will’s. Both exchanged tongues and now they both moaned audibly. The old man pushed backwards on Will until he was flat on the bed. He climbed on top until their hard ab striations came against each other. With gentle movement, he began frottage, their two pieces of meat rubbing.

“You left that window open on purpose, didn’t you,” Will gasped out as they began to move in rhythm.

“State the obvious often,” was all the old man said before his mouth closed over Will’s, shutting them both up.

The End

So, I've reached 10 months since my cervical surgery in April 2014, and had a visit with my surgeon for status. He admits, my healing still astounds him but also confounds him, as I am not like any other patient he's ever seen with my genetic condition, let alone do the things I do.

He has given me permission to add cardio to my regimen, which we call HIIT or high intensity interval training. I have to avoid twisting and turning, plus anything causing impact, so I have to adapt some of the techniques, but it seems to be going well. He also indicates I can start lifting above my head again, but only with light weights, working my way up a bit at a time.

The xrays with this visit show I haven't broken or dislodged any of my new hardware for which he was very glad. Guess he's been a bit worried I would resume things too soon and damage something. I told him, I haven't come this far just to set myself back. I did ask him a question about something he said when I first came to see him ... he had said, I see absolutely no reason you won't be able to resume everything you were doing before ... so my question was: Did he still hold that same view.

He replied that as long as I don't take blows to the head, especially the chin, nor engage in throws, I should be fine. These are the same rules I've been under for awhile, so nothing new there. I just have to continue being careful.

Anyways, based on his words, I should be good to start resuming sparring and hitting the mat in April, then I see him again two months after that for another check up, just to make sure my new hardware is holding up.

All positive news as far as I'm concerned. Hope you're all just as excited to have me back, I know some of you have been very patient and I don't plan to disappoint.
Guy