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Warning and disclaimer: This story contains erotic situations between two underaged boys. If that offends or disgusts you, I must ask how the hell you even found this story in the first place. You must be 18 and older to read this or of the age you can in your country. DO NOT COPY/STEAL THE STORY!!! All characters are made up. This is just a fantasy. Enjoy!

Wrestling to the Top

By DamiJon

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A story of sportsmanship in junior high wrestling, class struggle, and boys being boys. Bit of plot before you get to the porn, though, and maybe it'll make it a bit more heartwarming for you, too.

Two friends stood on a blue mat in-between a referee, waiting for the older man to let them fight. After a long two months of waiting for this moment, they were finally ready to settle a bet they made at the beginning of the school year. Both of the seventh grade twelve year old's exchanged glances and nervously grinned at each other. They were in the same weight class, eighty-eight pounds, and neither was much different in height either. As they stood around, seeming to wait forever, they thought about how long they’d been friends, previous matches they've had, other games they've played, and sleepovers that they'd been doing since they were nine years old.

On the left side stood Mason. He was four foot seven, a bit of a tan on him, with straight, thin, long dirty blonde hair that drooped to his eyebrows, and covered his ears. Not a hair otherwise on his body; he was naturally smooth like all men in his family, it didn't matter that he had just started puberty. His tight singlet was white, which made the shiny gold in his hair stand out more, and it had the image of a polar bear on it.

On the right side was Chandler, who rocked side to side, trying to keep himself in the zone. He was four foot nine, a pale ginger with freckles from head to toe. His hair was bright orange, as were his eyebrows, with his hair cut short in the back, kept long in the front, but cut around his ears. Like his friend, his skin was still smooth and hairless, even though he knew he was a bit further in development than his best friend. His tight singlet was crimson red with a rooster on it. He hated that. Not only were they from the Midwest with many farms around them, but having a rooster represent his school mascot just seemed embarrassing, especially on him, a ginger.

Both of the friends met when they were on the same little league team at the age of nine. When baseball season was over, they did wrestling, too. While both families were entirely different from each other, the parents became good friends, as did the boys. Sleepovers were mandatory every week, switching houses every other week. They already practiced together, too, so it felt like all they did was be around each-other. When they could, they'd even spend time hanging out on the weekdays after school. Chandler, coming from an upper-middle-class family and going to private schools, had the privilege to help Mason with his homework, while Mason resided at poor schools in a poor neighborhood.

It was hard to be best friends when going to different schools. They would naturally make other friends through clubs, sports, and class, but no matter what, the two of them made a vow before the beginning of middle school that they'd stick together for the rest of each other's lives.

Mason lived with his mother in a trailer park neighborhood. His mom worked two jobs and was going to school to get a degree in marketing. Most of her money went to caring for her son. As handsome and well dressed as Mason always was, he also had many issues. His teeth were never normal, which meant that he had to get braces a year ago at the age of eleven. Both his top and bottom teeth had metal on it now, and he wouldn't be able to get it off until the age of thirteen and a half – after that, he'd also have to wear a retainer for a while, too. The Medicaid he had covered most of it, but not all of it. He also had Type 1 Diabetes. While food assistance helped, everything that the boy ate had to be healthy to not damage his blood sugar or his teeth. His mother always had a handful of issues, whether it be a cheap broken car, bills, school, and more.

But Chandler's parents offered to help. When she was behind on something, they'd help pay for it, asking for nothing in return. They took Mason shopping every once in a while, bought him groceries, helped him in tutoring, and much more. Even though Chandler knew that his family was different, he never judged or made fun of his best friend for being poor. However, he would tease him for other things, as boys playfully do. When his friends made fun of the public school that Mason went to, he stood up and defended it anyway, no matter the ridicule he'd get in return.

Maybe he could empathize so well because Chandler had also his own fair share of trouble. He wasn't related to his parents by blood; he was adopted at the age of six. His birth parents were meth addicts, abusive, and put him in many horrible situations, most that he can't remember, but knows by court and the therapy he was ordered to go through as a kid, wasn't all so good. There couldn't be a kinship placement either, because the rest of the family were also addicts or troublesome. So he was adopted by two married women. Two lovely moms.

The match started. Both of the boys were trading jabs and trying to grab at arms, while crouched and moving around seemingly ceremoniously. Last year, sixth grade, their schools wrestled twice, a second time in a tournament, where Chandler's school won second place in the state, and Mason's came fifth. 'This year will be different,' Mason proudly thought to himself as he reached forward to pin his best friend to the mat. Once the boys were on the mat and struggling to gain control over the other, they'd also feel each other's body heat, breaths, and skin to skin. Mason smirked when he had his arm between his friend's leg and groping his crotch while holding him down. He was pretty sure he could feel his friends dick. Two points were awarded to him, and then, they were re-positioning.

Growing up, Chandler always knew he was different. Ginger, adopted, two moms. But that wasn't all. He knew that he wasn't attracted to girls, even when he thought he could convince himself to be. And seeing his two mothers together, cuddling on the sofa, kissing while making dinner, holding hands when they took him to the movie, he realized that it was probably okay that he was gay, too. When he started middle school, it seemed like everyone at school was a homophobe. He tried his best to act 'straight', too. The fact that he was a jock helped. He even thought that if he used the slurs that maybe people wouldn't notice, either. Whatever he could do to convince his tough straight friends that he was straight, even though his mothers were lesbians, he would do it. But once he started seventh grade, he decided to come out to everyone. To his parents, first. They were proud and supportive, obviously. They told him what it would be like growing up in a world of straight people. And they even told him how to practice safe sex as a gay boy. Then he told his friends. They pushed back, but learned to accept it later when they realized that he was still the same, and could honestly kick most of their asses, anyway. Then he told Mason.

Mason was shocked, somehow, but cooled off with it. He never asked his best friend about what it was like to be gay. That was something that stayed in the dark for a month. But during one sleepover, Chandler was going through his friend's computer when they were looking for food to order. He came across the straight porn first, but then he saw the gay porn on it, too. His friend was bisexual. That's when he realized that maybe, his feelings for him were more than just friendly, after all. Once he confronted it about it, Mason came out to him, too. Both of the boys came to understand their affection for another. They decided that they would now be more than friends – boyfriends.

Even though the blonde had a head start, it didn't take long for the ginger to catch up. It was only the first match, the skinniest boys from each school always going first, and everyone was already roaring in excitement. After the tournament last year, the schools were becoming rivals. Chandler got himself a face-down, making them tied for points.

Once they started their relationship, they decided that whoever won the first wrestling match for their school year would get to top for sex. Neither of them had done anything sexual yet. They kissed, even with tongue, cuddled, held hands, but never took off their underwear when they were with each other. They wanted to save it for this. For them, this match was more than just for the fun of playing their favorite sport ever. It meant that they would soon finally have sex and no longer be virgins and that one of them would get the power to be on top.

Being twelve, the horniest age a boy can be, it was difficult living to the commitment. Both of them spent much time alone masturbating to the thought of one another. The tension was unreal. On the mat, putting all their skills and strength into it, they also thought about how they wanted to fuck each other so bad. Both wanted to be on top, but also both not minding the idea of being on bottom either.

As much as sex was on both of their minds, Mason suddenly began to think of his motivations for wrestling. His whole life was a wrestle of remaining tough in the face of hard times. He wrestled for his mother, for his friends, for his school, for himself. 'I might be a poor kid,' He thought to himself. 'But that won't stop me from showing these rich kids who is really tough as nails!' At the same time, Chandler was also fighting in his head as well. 'All because I'm gay doesn't mean I'm one of the toughest twelve-year-olds in the state!' Both of the boys were sweating all over, horny, emotional, battling for control. Chandler glanced to his right, noticing that his friend had found him to slip out from under his grip, then he saw that he was being pinned down as well. As much as he tried to break free, he couldn't.

The whistle blew. The ginger knew that he had lost, but he wasn't sad about it. He looked up at his friends on the sideline, who were still proud of him, and knew that they'd win the rest of it, anyway. It was his first lost all year, too. Then his eyes beamed toward his boyfriend. He winked once and said, “Looks like you'll be on top.”

“Looks that way.” Mason's right hand was raised by the referee.

Even though he had one, his school had lost, as expected. Once he got to the locker room, he almost came while rubbing his dick in his tight sweaty singlet. He waited for the other boys to finish showering first, and then he went in so that he was alone and could get a long, passionate wank on, thinking back to the match.

Chandler wasn't able to get nearly as much privacy or fun after his game. His friends teased him, but weren't rough about it. They knew that the blonde from 'the poor school' was a prodigy of some sort. And he knew he would get teased in the showers, like he always was, but that didn't bother him either. Sure, everyone else was bigger in weight, height, and size down there as well, but he never felt ashamed of how he looked, because most of them were single, while he had a boyfriend. Most of them were virgins, while he would soon be losing his by bottoming on a Friday night.


The following Friday night, Chandler's moms dropped him off at his best friends. The trailer had the main room, a bedroom for his mother, and another for Chandler. In no way was it ever spacious, but it wasn't uncomfortable, either. While the other places might have been trashy, Mason's mom kept the place tidy, with decorations all over that made them look like hippies. A tapestry hung from one wall with a psychedelic design, there were mats with surreal designs on them, stuffed plush animals all over, and succulent plants on tables. Most of the time, the orange-haired boy would sit with his legs crossed on the little sofa facing a television until his best friend joined him.

As soon as he came in, he kicked off his Converse shoes and headed to his typical spot. He was wearing a loose black tank top that showed off his pale skin and freckles all over his arms and shoulders, along with neon red basketball shorts that matched his neon red socks that went all the way up to his calves. He wore an Oakland A's snapback hat backward as well. In front of him was his boyfriend, who was lifting his tight spandex shirt with the Superman logo on the front of it; Mason was giving himself a shot of insulin. After he did so, he cleaned up his mess and sat on the other side of the sofa. He too, wore basketball shorts and socks with neon colors, but his were blue. The ginger looked at his friend's dimpled cheeks and thin blonde hair, then down to the tight shirt that showed off his young muscular body. And the blonde boy returned the glance, taking into account Chandler's leftover baby fat, a band-aid on his nose from a cut he got during wrestling practice, the gleaming bright orange hair, and so many freckles that it would take years to count them all.

Chandler put on a baseball game, while Mason played country music on a small speaker on the coffee table. He was a bit of a redneck, with love for hunting, four-wheeling, everything sports-related, and of course, big love for bluegrass and country music. And he was proud of it, too. If he wasn't wearing sports gear that all other teenage jocks wear, he would wear blue jeans, a plaid button-up tucked in, cowboy boots, and a western belt. Chandler loved seeing him like that too, especially when he had a country hat on. When they first met, he hated country music, but the blonde slowly showed him the ropes of getting into it over time.

Mason's mom stuck her head forward from behind the sofa to brush both of the boys hair. She was dressed for work. “Alright, lovebirds,” She teased them. “I'm staying over at Grandma's after the graveyard shift, so try not to burn down the place while I'm gone. And remember – nothing more than kissing!”

“But we can still cuddle, right?” Mason asked his mom, worried and confused.

“Of course you can! But the clothes stay on unless you're going to bed.”

“Alright, love you, mom!”

“You too, sweeties.”

With that, they were soon alone. Both of them began to rest on the sofa, holding each-others legs, massaging them, murmuring, and just enjoying the moment. While the ginger was busy watching the baseball game, Mason focused on the song he was listening to, which reminded him of how each year his mom would take him and Chandler to a rodeo for his birthday, no matter how much it cost. He wondered if the sex tonight would be as good as he felt when he would be with him during that.

Chandler sat up, sipping on lemonade, and asked his boyfriend, “So like, do you like men or women more in terms of attraction?”

It wasn't a hard question for Mason. “Girls,” He blushed. “Like, I think I'm seventy percent into girls and thirty percent into guys. But you beat every girl and boy out of the park. You're the best, dude. Cause I love you. And you're hot.”

“Yeah? I love you too. And you're not so bad either.”

Mason laughed, showing his full mouth and teeth on a rare occasion. Having braces on the top and bottom, he was shy about his appearance,even if the rest of his looks made up for it. He always worried that his boyfriend would get angry when they'd kiss because of the metal in his mouth or the rubber-bands. Little did Chandler know that Mason would spend many times practicing on bananas with his mouth, so that when he gives his boyfriend a blowjob for the first time, he won't think about his braces at all. At the same time, despite all his self-criticism, Chandler loved his boyfriend's braces, and thought it added more character to him. He'd been wearing them for a year now. In two years when they're gone, he wondered how much better he'd look then.

“So, are we still on for tonight?” Mason asked.

“You mean, with you fucking me?”
“Well, yeah, and everything else. Why?”

“Just wondering.” Mason gulped. He sat up and moved closer so that he could hold his boyfriend's hand. “So... do you want to get started?”

“Man. Impatient. Yeah, I do.”

Both of the boys blushed. They stood up and went into Mason's room. The bed was small, and when they both were in it together, they'd often be scrunched up very close. Next to the bed was a dresser full of trophies from wrestling and baseball. His clothes were scattered, either in his basket or around it, along with the singlet he wore when they had their match. Chandler wanted to smell it so bad but just allowed himself to follow his boyfriend to the bed. They sat side by side, holding hands, trying not to overthink what was building in their crotches. The rest of Mason's room matched his personality – sports posters, hillbilly decorations, and his cowboy clothes neatly put together in one corner.

They kissed quietly, hands to hips or chest as they did so. When they would break, they'd smile at each other and giggle a bit. Chandler got horny thinking about his dick touching his boyfriend's braces and Mason got horny about getting to put his dick into his boyfriend's butt because he won a wrestling match. They took turns removing each-others clothing. First came their tank-top and shirt, then the socks that went up to the calves. Now they were only in their loose hanging basketball shorts.

Chandler did a wrestling move and pinned his blonde boy to the bed so that he was on top, then he moved down so that their skin was touching. They frotted for a moment, moaning and kissing, while the orange-haired firecracker rubbed his boyfriend's puffy nipples. He took off his own shorts, showing that he was wearing pink boxers. For a moment, Mason swore that he could get a glimpse of his boyfriends dick through the little opening in them. He rubbed his hands up along Chandler's thighs, thumbs making circles as the boxers were raised up more. “I love you so much,” He whispered, then with his voice cracking, a reminder that the two twelve-year-olds had much of puberty to still go through. His hands tickled and traced many freckles on the pale white boy.

Continuing his rematch, Chandler pulled off his boyfriend's basketball shorts, sticking his tongue out at him when he revealed that the blonde still wears tighty-whities, a kind that has a minimalist red line on the waistband. In fact, all Mason wore were white briefs. In the locker rooms, three-fourths of kids had already switched to boxers or boxer-briefs, with a one-fourth still wearing the undies their parents bought for them, or just being brave and not giving a shit. Mason blushed, being that he was one of those kids.

“Your mom gonna make you wear these forever?” Chandler teased. “I guess you'll always look like a kid. I'm joking. They look good on you. Sexy, actually. And I hope you do wear them for the rest of your life. I don't think you'd look good in anything else. It just wouldn't fit with you.”

“Thanks... I... I kind of like wearing them, too. They're comfy. Boxers are weird to me. But I think they're beautiful on you.”

At that moment, both of the boys got extremely shy and excited. This is as far as either of them had ever gotten. They'd still never seen each-others dicks. Apart from cuddling and wrestling, they'd rarely felt each-others dicks, either. That would change tonight.

Chandler asked, “Can I... Can I take yours out and touch it now?”

Mason nodded. He sat up a bit so he could see better and be more confident.

With that, Chandler put his fingers under the waistband of the white briefs, brought them down the meaty thighs and tanned legs, and tossed them aside. A thick four-inch erection sprung up, a slight curve to it, circumcised with a brown scar an inch down from the head, and with two marble-sized balls, barely dropped, but most likely able to produce a bit of semen. Chandler couldn't spot any pubes on him. He reached down to touch it. It felt so different, so awesome. His hand began to firmly stroke it, while the other hand massaged the balls.

“Fuck, dude. That's awesome.” Mason moaned, closing his eyes. He put his hands behind his head for a moment. Out of nowhere, he felt a slickness over the head of his penis. He opened his eyes, watching as the ginger took all of his four-inch cock into his mouth. His hands then traveled to his hair, gently combing the bright orange threads, sometimes messing with his ears. Chandler had been fantasizing about doing this for months, and it was just as good as he expected it to be. He loved sucking dick. He loved tonguing the pee-slit, licking the shaft, sucking his nuts, kissing it, sucking and sucking and sucking it. It kind of felt strange when he stopped and Mason asked him if he could show him his dick now.

Without much work to do, the ginger took off his boxers and sat upon his knees in-between Mason's legs, showing him his package. Chandler's dick was hard, thin, three inches long, balls somewhat dropped already, circumcised with a very noticeable brown scar a bit more than halfway down his shaft, which also looked painfully tight, and a few traces of ginger pubes beginning to grow at his pubis.

“Now I know why your team calls you lil' fire-starter,” Mason joked at him, referring to his size and pubes. “It's cute. No, it's perfect. It's the most beautiful dick I've ever seen.”

“Guess that's what I get for making fun of your briefs, huh?”

In a way, he didn't mind the joke at all. In fact, Chandler loved it. He scooted forward until the tip of his head was on his boyfriend's lips. Mason opened his mouth, licking all over it. He smiled up at him, not even being conscious of his braces, but only because it was him that he was with. Chandler moved forward a bit more, thrusting his dick into Mason's mouth. The blonde-haired boy began to suck him, one hand playing with the soft ball sack and balls, the other hand rubbing his boyfriend's ass. As he was sucking, he slowly begin to play with his crack. A finger touched Chandler's hole, softly massaging it. Mason sucked the little three-inch pecker with joy, showing off how much his banana practicing paid off for him. A finger went in, exploring. Before he came over, Chandler remembered the sex education he got from his mothers, and cleaned himself out. The ginger moaned as he was both sucked and finger-fucked.

After a long session of trade-offs between sucking, even sixty-nining, and lots of anal fingering, they eventually both lay side by side, stroking each others cocks. As they did so, Mason started a conversation with him, which felt a lot like more foreplay.

“You know that I wasn't circumcised at birth?” Chandler mentioned to his friend.

Mason glanced down at both of their dicks and compared them. He could move for of his shaft skin closer up to the head, but there was no skin to move on Chandler's shaft. Furthermore, the ginger had to apply more spit every minute when he stroked it. Mason thought it looked awesome how tight it was, but how it might be frustrating to always have to lubricate it. He hadn't thought much about his own circumcision or the topic in general. In this part of the Midwest, nobody had a foreskin, it was removed at birth without questioning. He'd learned about circumcision in 5th grade through the sex education tapes they'd play, which is the only time he'd ever see a foreskin, too, but other than that, he never even thought people got snipped later on in life.

“That's wild.” Mason said, continuing to explore their dicks. “Then when did you get it done? Can you tell me about it? Did you like, remember it?”

The ginger nodded. “When I was six, after I was adopted. My foreskin was too tight and my birth parents never did anything about it, so it was pretty serious. I remember it pretty well. They numbed me up and kept me awake during it. I messed with the stitches a lot after it was done, too. Last year, I found all the health reports that my mom's kept from when I got it done. They did something called a 'high and tight' on me, and removed as much of the skin as they could. I accidentally made it even tighter by messing with the stitches. The brown spot on our dicks is a circumcision scar. Mines darker than yours, but yours is still pretty dark. I think.. You have like, a medium-high and tight.”
“You know all about this, huh, nerd?” Mason teased again. He knew his friend loved to absorb all types of random information. “Yours is fucking awesome.”

“They had to remove my frenulum, too. That's a little spot under the head of your dick. It's super sensitive. I did a lot of research on it. Since mine is so extreme, I apparently lost a lot of nerves and stuff, so it takes me a long time to cum. I kind of like it like that, though.”
“Did they remove my, what is it called again? A frenum?” Mason lifted his curved erection, looking for it. He felt around his brown circumcision scar first, then touched his boyfriends.

“Nope. It looks like they took yours off, too.”

“That's cool, I think?”

“Yeah, it is.” Chandler spoke up a bit louder, a devilish look in his eyes. “You know, I thought it was kind of sexy when you made fun of my dick. When you said it was little.”
“Oh? You get turned on when I make fun of it?” Mason started taking notes on the kinks he was getting from his boyfriend. He was also noticing that his boyfriend loved when he smiled enough to show his teeth. “Okay. Well, that's why I'm gonna be fucking you and not the other way around. You can't do much with a tiny ginger dick like that. And you're circumcised so tight that it would take you forever to finish in me, anyway.”

As he said those words, Chandler shivered and moaned while he was being stroked by his lover. Even more so, his boyfriend was smiling, braces and all. The blonde hair was even a bit damp with sweat.

“That's right. I was gonna fuck you.” Mason did a wrestling move, putting his boyfriend on his back now, then pushing the legs forward. He winked at him, then put his face in-between the pale cheeks. His tongue went in, licking around and into the ass hole, kissing it too, sometimes sliding a finger or two in. He rimmed him while Chandler stroke his three-inch cut pecker and moaned for more. When he was tired of stroking, he would simply trace a finger around his own circumcision scar, thinking back to what it was like to be cut and recover from it and be so focused on the feeling of his own little dick. Then he would rub a finger under the head, where his frenulum was removed.

Mason placed the head of his dick against the tight hole. He looked at his boyfriend's eyes, waiting for him to nod and consent, then pushed his four-inch length into him. Both of them moaned in unison. The blonde pumped slowly, raising himself a bit off of the bed, holding himself up on the tip of his toes, and sometimes lowered himself when he wanted to kiss his boyfriend. Their little bodies were growing restless but couldn't stop just yet. As much as the blonde wanted to pin his boyfriend to the side and fuck him and all the positions he does in wrestling, he felt that this was the most romantic.

Virgins no more. As the boys were in the midst of kissing, Chandler felt himself getting close. Their mouths broke off from each other and the ginger shot three times onto his own face, right around his mouth. He licked some of it up, but left most of it for Mason. It was sweet and acidic like pineapple. With the little bits of cum leftover and running down the head, he used that to continue rubbing the most sensitive spots on his dick. Not too long after that, Mason ejaculated inside of his boyfriend. Being a bit further behind in puberty, all that came out were a few dribbles of semen because he couldn't shoot yet, but it felt like he unloaded everything that he had within him.

Both of the twelve-year-old boys snuggled up together in the nude. They tongue-kissed and talked about wrestling some more. About what they'd do tomorrow, other than anal sex. When it came closer to night time, they pulled up the sheets, turned off the lights, and Mason put on a playlist of country music, starting off with an alternative version of Ty Herndon's song, 'What Mattered Most.'


Did you like it? Email me to let me know! You can also check out my super epic erotic fantasy story (think Game of Thrones, but gay boys) at the link below. Thanks!