Number 38 (Review)
Hi, guys. Let me give you just a taste of this fight, a rematch between Lucien and Leto in Underground Wrestling 38. This is part of my marathon jerk-off session through Greccogear's catalog of fights, in which I time-travel backwards match by match. The action depicted here is straight out of the downloadable video, excerpted (below) on YouTube, heated up a bit with my purple prose and fevered imagination.
For the first couple of minutes of round one, it looks like hairy-chested Leto is going to be Lucien's bitch for the duration. Then he bucks, with an unexpected surge of furious energy, sending both fighters to their sides on the mat. But he fails to break the long-haired blond's tenacious grip on his neck or the tight leglock on his hips.
Just to remind the upstart of who's going to be boss here, Lucien chicken-wings him. Leto moans in exquisite agony as the pain shoots orgasmically up and down his spine. Still, the kid has fight in him. He flips Lucien, freeing himself, though ever so briefly. Lucien lunges and hunkers over his man, knees bracketing his waist, draining the energy ounce by ounce from his immobilized body.
On his back, Leto shoves futilely up against Lucien's ribs and tries to gain some traction on the mat with his feet.
Lucien zeros in on Leto's throat again, bearing down to amp the pressure up. Leto writhes and thrusts vainly, like a dog stuck in barbwire. His cock, straining the metallic gold crotch of his square-cut fight shorts, chafes up against the taut silver of the shorts hugging Lucien's butt.
Then, with another jolt of energy, Leto bucks and reverses the hold on Lucien. In just a second, though, Lucien's back on top, hiking Leto's legs way up over his head, pinning his shoulder blades to the mat.
Leto's sinewy legs latch on to Lucien's shoulder and drag him down. The smooth blond wriggles his way loose, brusquely pushes Leto's face to the mat, and mounts his back. He almost manages a half nelson before Leto powers out.
Chest to chest, gut to gut, the fighters crash back to the mat, and Lucien, arching cross the brunet's chest, wraps up Leto's left shoulder in his own left arm and uses his free arm to lift his opponent's leg and cinch it to the corresponding arm; at the same time, his left leg deftly hooks round Leto's neck. All Leto can do now is moan, totally hogtied in the more experienced grappler's body-length clasp.
Lucien gives Leto the opportunity to give it up. Leto shakily declines. So Lucien ratchets up the pain, reaching back with his left hand to grab his own right foot, triangulating it with his left leg to crush the prostrate fighter's neck in a vise of muscle and bone. Leto's chin squeezes up to Lucien's ass. Leto grimaces, teeth gritted in a more-eloquent-than-words rictus of pain and humiliation.
Unable even to speak, Leto moans three more times and taps out. End of round one, and we're not even halfway through this steamy match-up.
The second round sees Lucien again on top of his man, chest to chest, arms clipped to Leto's neck. Leto slaps the aggressor's shoulders and butt till Lucien rears up on his knees, straddling the dark-haired wrestler's waist.
This round offers a bit more back-and-forth action than the first. Leto seems to sense, with a certain degree of desperation, the real possibility that Lucien is going to totally own him once again. Both men are breathing in gasps now, gulping down air as their bodies churn together, move following move with kaleidoscopic speed and variation.
The smooth blond grapevines the hairy brunet and stretches him out like taffy. The move shows off Leto's strained torso, the hairy chest tapering down to a long line down his stomach, which heaves in and out as he struggles to breathe.
Again, Lucien tightens the hold, and Leto taps out for a second time.
With two losses behind him, Leto lets loose in round three. His punches are more aggressive now, but it's all perhaps too late. Both men are tired. It even appears that Lucien may be shorter on stamina now than Leto.
Their hot breaths beat against each other's face. Waves of body heat roll over and between their coiled physiques. The action in round three is the most frenzied yet. Recklessly, the men toss and hurl each other over the mats and drive themselves together in ever more intricate knots.
Nothing hangs in the balance now, with two wins already chalked up to Lucien. Nothing, that is, except Leto's pride. He fights now as he should have fought from the beginning. Now the stakes are simply to stop Lucien from gaining three for three. The question is, can he man up in the final moments of this grueling match? or is Lucien going to squeeze yet a third submission out of him?