Copyright Notice:  These stories are copyrighted and may not be reprinted, copied, distributed, or altered without the express written consent of the author. Thank you.

Scott was pleased when he got the job with the Forest Service. In spite of the politics and paperwork, he decided that walking among the trees in the Rockies several days of the week, writing littering tickets, rescuing fools, and answering silly questions (When do you guys lock up the bears at night?) made up for any indignities of government. Actually, there was more to it than that, but the job was quite enjoyable. Besides, he really wanted the job.

He wasn't alone, of course. His job was one of the most coveted among those with college degrees. He was chosen among 470 other candidates for the position. "Who do you gotta blow to get a job here?!!" One of the rejected applicants shouted as he left the office where the interviews were being given. Well, not to brag, but Scott knew who to blow and did so. It was the best suggestion he ever had going into an interview.

Scott was a large, muscular, and handsome man. Rugged features, black hair cropped short, with the receding scoops at the temples that said, "see fur below." And he was furry. He had a beautiful body too. Football and hockey in high school, wrestling in college (to stay in good condition and to rub against muscular upperclassmen,) all combined and made Scott's body one to envy and desire.

He had huge pecs and washboard abs barely visible under his black body fur. His thick thighs he loved to show off in denim shorts and work boots. The interviewer for the forest service received the devastating sparkle smile and Scott rubbed his crotch to drive the point. The contest was over.

And he hated himself.

He just wanted to know if he was good at anything or were people just glad to fuck him. Well, people were glad to fuck him. He just wanted to know he succeeded at anything on work and merit. Of course, he took the job and anything else he could get with his looks, and withdrew into the forest near Yosemite, happy to be away. Well, relieved. Poor pretty boy, he would say.

Usual September day's lunch at the rest stop: the uniform did flattery to the sculpture called Scott. He would watch the hikers stretch out after the day's walk. Cruisin' on the job, he chided himself. What a desperate man he'd become. It was simple, though. He wanted a man badly. Someone to wrestle, to wrap up and squeeze, maybe fuck hard.

Scott was willing to advertise. He dressed in his tight uniform today and hoped for attention. Today he was ignored. There was another man here. He was taller than Scott, huge thighs rippling out of his denim 501's. He had close cropped chestnut hair. A light fuzz covered his arms. His chest was massive, pressing out of his bulky flannel shirt, light fuzz covering his pecs. He winked at Scott as he walked past Scott's picnic table, taking long strides to the men's room. Scott was hot. THIS man he could wrestle and not worry about breaking. The thought of wrapping his arms around this man's muscular body and squeezing him hard from behind. Then he would lift him to the tilt and slam him, TAKEDOWN!!! Two points.

The whole rest area turned to look at this muscular stud. He smiled and waved, walking through the milling herd of normals. Scott went back to his lunch and suddenly stopped when he saw the man pull out a large black felt marker and brazenly scribble on the wall outside the men's room.

Shit. That blows the possibilities for push-up over this man's chest. Scott walked over to the man and lowered his voice to that deep warning tone, "Graffiti is a federal crime, sir." The man turned and looked at Scott, fixed him in a blue-eyed stare.

"Oh, yeah?" he asked quietly. Everyone suddenly finished lunch, or whatever they were doing, and moved to leave.

"Yes sir, it is. I'm going to have to write you a citation. I-D please." Scott wasn't going to take shit from this man. He fixed his hardest brown-eyed parry.

The man slowly pulled out his wallet and handed him his driver's license. Larry Nails from Oklahoma. "Nails? I've never heard that name before."

"My dad was a carpenter. He changed his name in Sweden." Larry said evenly. "Fifty bucks? Great. Where do I pay?" he asked.

"You can mail it in," Scott said.

"If you show up, I can pay you in person," Larry said calmly.

"Show up where?" Scott asked just as he was reading the graffiti for the report he'd have to fill out. It said, "BEARHUG CONTEST : 8 PM, RED ROCKS."

Larry said, "I could read it for you, if you like."

II

Scott ran a check on Larry. It was not routine but he wanted to know about this man in the woods, loose madly hugging passers by. Wrapping those bronzed pythons around every passing hiker, squeezing and squeezing and squeezing....STOP IT! Scott was shaking. His manhood jumped when he thought about it. No. He wasn't going to Red Rocks to see. He's going to spend his weekend in his trailer, alone. There's a good game on.

Scott continued reading the report from the park service. It turned out that Larry works for InterWorld Paper on the logging project north of the park. He's on a one month leave, reason: unknown. Used to be a defensive linebacker for a farm team for the Chargers. Became a logger after an accident on field where a teammate died. No charges were filed and they gave him a meager severance to match his meager pay and he went into the woods. He was All American. Qualified for the 1980 Olympic wrestling team. That went belly up with the Americans pulling out of the games. Larry looked into football. The rest is history.

Scott couldn't help thinking about the bearhug contest. A guy would have to be crazy to play with this lumberjack. Scott had no small strength but didn't like the idea of standing there and letting the huge muscular man wrap his massive arms around his own muscled torso and squeeze to see who's tougher. Scott's dick stirred again. Okay, so he liked the idea. Trained wrestler, he really liked the idea.

Regardless, Red Rocks was high up in the hills, an over look to the Ruby Canyon. You had to be a good climber to get there and if you met at 8 p.m. you had to leave almost immediately to get back before it was totally dark. Unless you spent the night there.

Scott was sipping on his canteen cursing his field glasses trying to get a good view of Red Rocks from a point on a neighboring hill.. He wished he had a stronger set of lenses. He could barely see Larry sitting on the highest rock, waiting. Occasionally he would stretch his massive body, flexing, then sitting still again.

Scott's watch beeped at 8 o'clock. He looked to see if Larry was still there. He focused in and saw another man climb up to Larry's point. Larry sat up as soon as he heard someone. Then he smiled and waved. Gods! What a smile! Larry was the most beautiful man Scott had ever seen. His opponent wasn't so bad either. Long black hair, tall and lean, hard sharply defined muscles rippled in his upper arms, but his chest was smaller than Larry's. If he's serious about winning a bearhug contest against Larry, he better hope to go first.

Larry climbed down to the flat area at the base of his rock and warmly greet his opponent. Curious, Larry raised his fist shoulder height like he was saying a strange pledge-of-allegiance. His opponent did the same. Then, together, they pumped their fists in front of them three times. Larry was holding two fingers, his opponent had a fist. Rock, paper, scissors. Looks like Larry lost. Rock breaks scissors.

Larry stripped off his flannel shirt revealing his muscular torso. Then he smiled and held his arms straight out from both shoulders like an iron cross to give the challenger the best reach around his torso. Damn! That chest is huge! Scott was hard and trembling while he watched.

The challenger stripped off his t-shirt. Nice powerful back! This will be interesting. As the challenger approached Larry, their size difference was apparent. Larry's chin met the challenger's nose. Height doesn't matter much in this game though, but Larry was wider.

Larry was relaxed and still as the challenger planted his feet in a wide stance and slowly wrapped his muscular arms around Larry and snuggled in tight. There was a quick spasm as the hold was squeezed closed by the challenger. A flash of pain crossed Larry's face quickly replaced by the serene calm he previously had. The challenger squeezed and shook Larry, rubbing his face in Larry's chest. Larry was calm. He flexed his chest muscles against the face of the challenger who got his first worried look.

Squeezing for all he was worth, the challenger kept up the pressure for three maybe four minutes. He then let go, out of breath. Scott could read Larry's lips say, "My turn." A timid man would've run in the face of Larry's approach. Arms spread wide, thick muscles flexed to the max, Larry placed his chest against the challenger's. The challenger, well muscled and strong, looked like he wasn't going to even hope for a draw. He closed his eyes as he tried to imitate Larry's confidence and stretched his arms out to receive Larry's embrace. He looked like a brave rebel before a firing squad. Man, this guy's gonna be crushed!

Larry slowly closed his arms around the waiting torso of his challenger. His hand clasped his wrist just above the small of his challenger's back. He was in no hurry and rubbed his huge pecs into the challenger's smooth chest. He completed the embrace but before he squeezed, he whispered something in the challenger's ear and the challenger nodded in agreement.

Then he squeezed! He picked the man off the ground and buried his face in his shoulder. The challenger cried out in pain, a sound that echoed through the canyon. Larry pumped his arms tighter. Constricting the challenger's torso with all that muscle, Larry had a smile that broadened with his victim's screams. The challenger yelled in pain again, a cry that trailed off to a strangled groan. Frantically pushing on Larry's thick arms and muscular shoulders, unable to escape, the challenger cried out, "Enough!! OOOOggghhhh, Pleeeseee! Enough! AAAAggghhh!!"

His face was twisted in agony, eyes pressed shut to block out his painful reality, snapping wide open each time Larry tightened his arms further. The meatgrinder crushed the challenger for a solid minute. His body went slack as Larry shook him three times and dropped him. The defeated challenger fell to the ground, audibly gasping for air.

Scott couldn't believe what he just saw. He was so thrilled to see someone squeezed into submission. He cock was a hot spike in his shorts. He quickly had his shorts unzipped, pumping himself just to shoot and get his head to clear. It didn't take long.

When Scott recovered, he saw no sign of the challenger in the failing light except his shirt still on the ground. Larry was drinking from a water bottle. Suddenly, he turned and looked right into Scott's eyes. He smiled and waved. Scott read his lips, "Come and get it!"

III

Scott cursed himself for being so obvious. He stood before Larry after climbing up the rock much faster than he ever imagined he could. It was near full dark now. Larry had a simple candle lantern lit. In the dim light, Larry's muscles looked huge. Larry had put his shirt back on and left it unbuttoned. His huge pecs cast a shadow over his torso. Man, he's big!

Scott said, "Where's your first opponent?"

"Cooking my dinner," Larry said with a smile. "You gonna write me another ticket or are you going to take your shirt off and let me pay you for the first?" Scott hated this part, all of his bluff called, it was show-and-tell time. He unbuttoned his heavy cotton shirt and pulled off. Larry looked pleased, even impressed with Scott's muscular body. He rolled his shoulders back, stretching his pecs and back. "Oh man, very nice," Larry said. To improve the effect, Scott flexed one 18" bicep and smiled. "If I may compliment you ahead of time, you look durable. This could be a fun contest." Larry said and stood. He moved closer to Scott. "You ready?"

"Aren't you forgetting a formality?" Scott asked and held up his fist to play rock, paper, scissors.

"You wrote me a ticket, you got first shot." Larry said with a smile.

"You committed a crime and forced me to do my job, we're even." Scott said quietly and held his fist up to start. He smiled to let Larry know this was still a game.

"You're charming," Larry said with a smile. "On three.." one, two, three....Larry had scissors, Scott had a rock.

Larry smiled even bigger and stretched his arms out to the side, "Come give me your best, ranger." Scott shook out his arms and stretched before stepping in, He wanted to see what a little wait does for Larry's confidence. Larry just stood there.

Scott stepped in and rubbed his hand over Larry's chest and abs, feeling the power of that huge man. He smelled like seasoned wood and felt like warm stone. "You like?' Larry asked. Scott looked Larry in the eyes and said, "Yes, very much."

"Let's see how hard you can squeeze ranger. Remember, I'm next." Larry said.

Scott wasn't sure which thrilled him more, squeezing or being squeezed. He knew he had to make a great showing. He pressed his chest against the lumberjack and slid his hands around a pair of solid lats and rubbed the small of Larry's back. He felt that valley between the lats and the spine, so warm and smooth, leading to the beltline. He joined his hands and could feel the heat radiating from Larry's muscular torso. Larry marveled at the worship and touch that preceded the hold. This ranger needs a man.

Scott cinched the hug tighter and pressed his face into Larry's muscled shoulder. Braced, he readied himself to give a squeeze. Right over the kidneys, he thought. Larry took two deep breaths. Then Scott squeezed!

"OOOhhhhggghhh...." some air was forced from Larry's chest and he groaned in pain. Scott was pleased. The other challenger didn't even get sound out of him. Then Scott made it tighter. Larry closed his eyes and fought for a couple breaths. Scott focused his pressure on the lower back and dug into the lats and kidneys as hard as he could. He left open a defensive move he didn't think of.

Larry wedged his hand under Scott's chin and pressed his face away. This put more pressure on his back as he pressed and Scott's think arms were already constricting him in a surprisingly painful bearhug. With two more quick breaths, Larry pushed harder and made a space for him to start sliding his other hand under Scott's arm. Seeing the tactic now, Scott snapped a burst of pressure into the tight hug and moved the hug higher on Larry's back. He didn't close the space between their massive chests in time though and Larry had his hand in.

He paid for the opening though. The extra pressure wrenched a pained cry from Larry's throat. He hadn't met a man in ten years that could do that. He knew he'd better break out quickly or his turn would be weak, maybe even defeated.

Taking breaths in gasps, Larry pushed with all his might to press his hand under Scott's arm. Slowly it slid through even though Scott had tremendous pressure bearing down with his rippling arms. Slowly the hand slipped through, then his forearm, and finally his huge upper arm, and slipped behind Scott's back.

Scott wrenched another burst of pressure, this time over his arm, right on the insertion point between Larry's bicep and shoulder muscles. Pain flashed across Larry's face. Larry shoved Scott's chin back sharply and thrust his hand into Scott's other armpit. If he could force his hand through he could flex his arms and chest and neutralize or break the hold, maybe even slap on the payback early. But he knew it better be soon.

Scott shook his head, dazed by the shove to the jaw. Larry's hand was jammed between their pecs and was slipping inside the bearhug. Scott squeezed harder to stop him but the bearhug was still too low on Larry's back to prevent the counter. Scott knew he would have the hold broken soon and went to squeeze Larry's lats as hard as he could before Larry escaped.

Larry was howling in agony now. He squirmed and thrashed with both his arms trapped. His thrashing was not in vain. Scott had to stand wide and hold tight just to stay upright. Larry slid his other arm though the bearhug. Scott held his too tight to for Larry to get his hands to clasp behind Scott's back. But the added girth stretched Scott's grip and he felt his hands begin to slip apart.

With one deep breath and hard flex, Scott's grip failed and Larry popped out of the painful grip. "AAAAhhhhhhgghh!" Larry roared as his powerful hard flex threw Scott back a step. Free from the hold, Larry sank to his knees, gasping for air.

"You, man, " Larry said between heaving gasps. "You have one solid grip! I'm impressed!" Larry picked himself off the ground, still regaining his breath. Scott caught his breath as well. His muscles were pumped from the long hold on the lumberjack.

Larry walked over to Scott and stood close. He laid a hand on Scott's chest, running his fingers through the fur between his huge pecs. "You're next."

Scott took a deep breath and extended his arms in the stance. Larry placed his chest on Scott's and rubbed his abs into the ranger. Larry slipped his huge arms around Scott's body. Scott felt Larry's body heat envelope him. His arms locked, muscle on muscle once again. Larry whispered in Scott's ear. "Here it comes..."

Larry's 20" pythons squeezed, right over Scott's ribs. Scott wailed in pain almost immediately. "Oh, it's not that bad," Larry said. "It's just begun." Larry squeezed tighter, constricting the air from Scott's muscular chest. Scott flexed his chest and lats, trying to hold off the pressure from those crushing arms. Scott tried to wedge his hands between them. No good! The bearhug was cinched higher on his body than he did on Larry. Larry just laughed and squeezed even tighter.

Scott was feeling light headed and knew he was going to be snuffed out like the other challenger, crushed in a pythonic embrace. He punched on Larry's chin, hard. Didn't budge. He stretched his arms out and slapped over Larry's ears. "AAAAAaaww!" Larry screamed at the sudden pain. "You little shit!" Larry cinched the bearhug tighter in a hard burst. Scott screamed, all the air flew from his lungs. He tried to take a breath and got nothing. He slammed his fists over Larry's ears, once, twice, and again.

BAM! Scott found himself on the ground, spitting out the dust he landed in, lying on his stomach gasping for breath. That last burst of pressure actually knocked the wind out of him. He heard Larry growling in his pain. "So you want to play that way?" he growled.

Scott felt himself being lifted to a stance by his hair. Larry lunged to slap another bearhug on him. Scott barely parried the hold by grabbing his wrist. "There were no rules against it."

"You wanna play no rules with me?!" Larry asked in a fury.

"No...I" Scott stammered barely holding off Larry's lunge while trying to get his breath.

"You what? You just don't want me to crush you to sleep like I did the other guy! Guess what, I know that's a lie too! You want this!" Larry argued.

"I do but..." Scott continued. Larry stopped trying to complete the bearhug just a moment and said. "Great, get ready, I'm gonna crush you, Ranger!"

Scott knew Larry was furious at being robbed of his victory and needed to be controlled. He drew on his wrestling training and dropped grabbing Larry's legs throwing him on his back. He held tight on both of Larry's huge legs. Gods! These legs are thick Scott thought. He had to hold with all his might to those heavy legs. Man, if he caught me a scissors hold, that would be bad.

Scissors! Scott was hitting himself for being so stupid. Rock, paper, scissors, Larry always picked scissors! It's a longshot, but a guy that likes to squeeze the crap out of other guys, with wrestling experience and huge legs, would excel at scissors holds. And Scott just initiated a wrestling match. Stupid! He held onto those legs for dear life.

Not that it mattered... Larry saw Scott clutch his legs and hold them tightly. "You're not afraid of me squeezin' you with those, are you?" Larry said with a laugh. "I like you. You're fun," Larry said in a taunting tone. He sat up and grabbed Scott with one hand on his chin and the other on the back of his close cropped head and pulled. Scott was afraid he was going to have to let go of those legs or get his head twisted off.

Larry flexed his legs and spread them popping Scott's hold on them effortlessly. Scott tried to scramble backwards onto his feet, but Larry yanked his head toward him. Scott tumbled onto Larry, his head hitting Larry's chest and his torso drawn between Larry's huge legs. Scott felt even more stupid, wrestling like a freshman. Larry's massive thighs slowly closed around Scott and securely locked around Scott's waistline. "NO!" Scott shouted near panic pushing on those closing thighs in vain.

"Oh yes, Ranger! You're gonna be squeezed now! Don't disappoint me by being quiet about it." With that, Larry's legs flexed hard and Scott's beautiful body was squeezed and squeezed and squeezed. "AAAAAAGGGGHHHoooooohhhhh!!!" Scott's wail echoed off the other side of the canyon several times. The pain was etched on Scott's chiseled face. Larry was thrilled, "Oh man, you are one amazing piece of squeeze meat!" Scott barely heard the compliment. His ribs were buckling and he was sure he was never going to breathe again. The heat from those massive thighs was strangely comfortable. Larry smelled even more exciting than before. He could feel Larry's pulsing cock throb under that layer of denim. He placed his hand on it and squeezed. "You like that, Squeezemeat?" Larry asked.

Scott had no air to answer so he nodded. Larry's hold loosened and Scott gratefully took a breath. It was so hard to expand his chest enough to breathe that Scott didn't try to escape. Besides, he loved the embrace and wasn't going to ruin a good thing. "Good! I may not crush you to death."

"Just try and I'll..." Scott tried.

"You still a tough guy? Damn! I just can't let you breathe!" Larry's pythons went back to work squeezing and squeezing. Scott lost that breath almost instantly wailing loudly. The world floated again and Scott pushed against Larry's legs in vain. He was losing consciousness. "No .....more.....please.." Scott begged.

"You say 'more please'?" Larry taunted.

"No....please stop...please.." Scott couldn't even flex his abs against the constricting tide.

"Okay, "Larry said. "Let's play a little game to see if you can get out." Scott whimpered as Larry took his time explaining. "It's called rock, paper, scissors. Remember that game?" Larry pumped his thighs and got a wail out of Scott. "Good," he said. "If you win, I let you go. If I win, you're stupid and I squeeze you 'till I break something inside of you. Ready?"

Scott made a fist and pounded on Larry's chest three times, blind to what Larry was doing. Larry's legs slackened considerably and Scott was heaving to get air. He looked up at Larry's smiling beautiful face. Larry held up two fingers. "Rock breaks scissors, very good!"

Larry opened his legs and Scott just laid there. Larry sat up and cradled Scott in his arms, hugging him gently with his muscular legs. "You okay?" Larry asked.

Scott felt his ribs and realized he was in this beautiful man's gentle embrace. He looked really concerned, Scott marveled. This was play. Gods! What's a real fight like with this guy? "Well are you?" Larry asked again breaking Scott's ruminations.

"Uh, yeah," he snuggled into Larry's chest. "I'm just fine." Larry wrapped his huge arms around Scott nearly smothering him in muscle. "Good, I was worried I broke you."

"I'm okay," Scott said.

"Bullshit!" said Larry. "You need a man so badly you're chasing known criminals up mountains just for a hug." They both laughed.

"Correct. Then, no you didn't damage me and yes I'm fucked up and need a man to squeeze me now and then." Scott said in all honesty.

"Good, I haven't had a buddy for awhile," Larry said quietly.

"He leave you?" Scott asked.

"No he's dead," Larry said.

"The guy that died on the field?" Scott asked.

A flare of anger crossed Larry's face that quickly faded, "That guy was named Dennis and you looked up all my stuff, didn't you?"

"Well, I don't hug just anybody..."

"Come on," Larry said messing up Scott's unmessable hair. "Let's build a fire at my camp. It's getting cold already."

"I'll keep you warm, really," Scott said as they both got up.

"Sure you will, Squeezemeat! After you tell me everything you found in my file!"

They walked down the path behind red rocks. "Even the preschool prostitution ring?"

"You're making that shit up!"

(c) 1997. Join WrestleMen.com. Over 5000 wrestlers, 1600 visitors a day!