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It was the summer I turned fourteen and my hormones were burning me to a crisp. Wrestling a good hot bear cub guy like me, both of us big, hairy, and bareassed naked was all I fantasized about, and I was shooting buckets of jism every time I thought about it: when I went to bed at night, when I woke up, in the bathroom, in my room or in the basement alone, you name it. My hand was clamped tight on my cock and pumped with a vengeance.

Just the thought of tangling naked with other bear cubs got me horny and hard. Ooh yeah! The guys who put the iron in my rod and made it go purple and got my mouth watery were guys with beefy, built-for-action bodies, thick muscular chests, shoulders, arms, and legs all covered with a nice coat of dark hair. The furrier the better, and the thought of a contest with guy my size or better who had a good hairy chest and belly and fuzzy fur down his legs made me squirt buckets of jism.

Just where to find and take on this hot bearcub in suburban New Jersey was the task. With one of the guys at school, maybe, or from my old scout troop? Well, sure, I got into some routine schoolboy roughhousing with a couple of the guys I knew, but it wasn’t my fantasy. It wasn’t the brutal man-to-man battles between two naked furry young ‘uns that I saw myself doing. It wasn’t testing my limits of pain and endurance against his, slamming my body down hard on top of some hot-looking bear cub, and then shooting big sprays of jism all over the place.

Well, at least my consolation was that my manly pride was getting harder, thicker, and longer with ever greater use.

What about me? At a husky 5-foot-10 and 185 pounds, with dark fuzzy legs and forearms and a healthy crop of dark brown shoots sprouting on his chest and gut, I was undeniably a bearcub. Issuing from my father’s Greek and my mother’s Irish genes it was understandable. Dad was a burly bear of a guy who when shirtless showed off a terrific pelt on his pecs and belly, and my mom’s father and brothers, all of whom I hated, were all what you might call otters, furry but slim.

After school let out for summer, I signed up for a junior wrestling class at the local YMCA. A couple of the guys on the team were real hot cubs, and I managed to get them to practice with me one-on-one a few times. But they turned out to be assholes and I was turned off by all the heavy-duty gear these guys demanded you wear to wrestle that covered up all a man’s good parts under nylon or thick padding. Disliking that plus the strict by-the-rules shit, I lasted two weeks.

But to be honest the big reason I quit was that every time I prepared to practice my dick swelled up because all I could think about was the two of us going at it naked and hot and sweaty and the winner cumming all over the loser. It was an unlikely scene at the ever-so-straight-and-narrow Y. But that’s being fourteen for you.

Meanwhile I haunted used book stores and started a good collection of books and magazines on wrestling. Some of the tattered old wrestling magazines were chock full of photos of big, beefy amateur and pro wrestlers.

But my favorites were large books on mythology or athletics in ancient history, with pages of great color prints depicting ancient Greek, Roman, and Egyptian wrestlers and fighters battling it out naked. And every time I looked at those prints I saw myself in the scene: I was naked and sweaty and locked up with another hairy fucker in fierce, manly combat, testing my raw stuff against the other young bear’s, feeling the sweaty grip and grit and slam of body against body.

Just where I was going to meet up with this guy in suburban New Jersey I didn’t have a clue.

By the end of June my dysfunctional parents prepared for their annual separate vacations coinciding with the Fourth of July. For two weeks every July, my mom sought refuge back in San Diego with her super-straight U. S. Navy family, while Dad went fishing and camping in upstate New York with his oldest friend. This annual split vacation was anything but a good time for me, because my mother always insisted on taking me and my younger brother, Peter, along with her.

It was two weeks of hell and torture.

Her retired goose-stepping-captain-father and three jerkoff officer brothers, all of whom mom worshipped, were true-blue U.S. Navy, and the biggest assholes I’d ever met. Their attitudes made a lead pencil look like a four-lane highway.

From the moment I arrived they drilled me and my brother about the glorious day when we would join up with the Navy, maintaining a proud family tradition; I wanted no part of that bullshit under any circumstances and told them that, pretty plainly. My grandfather and uncles didn’t exactly take my telling them to mind their own business very kindly, and so I gradually became a little civilian pansy who was duped by his worthless ex-hippie, draft-dodging father, a reference to the fact that my Dad had once told them to their faces he thought the Vietnam war was bullshit.

My Dad’s camping trip in the Adirondacks was sort of a mystery to me except for Dad mentioning to me that he went camping with this guy Greg, his best friend since they were teenagers in upstate New York. When my Dad came back from this trip he was always more relaxed and in a good mood, so I assumed it was due to the fact that he was away from mom. On the other hand, my mother always returned from her family more militant and authoritarian than ever, and the mix was, as you’d expect, pretty lethal.

A couple of weeks before that year’s parting of the ways my Dad took me aside and told me that since I was fourteen now and, as he put it, "becoming your own man," it was time to decide for myself where I wanted to spend my vacation, with mom to San Diego or camping with him and Greg.

Mystified, I said mom would probably blow a gasket if she heard that, but he flashed this mysterious grin and said they’d come to an agreement to let me choose, but that Petey was going with mom to Southern California.

Well, that news item blew me away. The thought that I wouldn’t have to endure the naval nazis any more was too much; my changing voice screeched out a howling No shiiit! two octaves higher than my normal voice range. My Dad just nodded and told me what I’d need to pack. I felt sorry for Petey, but he was becoming the little apple of my other family’s eyes so I didn’t sweat it. What was important was that I’d been set free!

Later, Dad mentioned that his buddy Greg was also bringing his son Sean along this year too.

"Sean’s sixteen," he added, knowing that kids often have this stupid thing about an age difference of even a year. "He’s a real good guy and a lot of fun, and I hope you two hit it off okay. But whatever happens," he added with a strange smile, "you do whatever you want because it’s your vacation and what you do is your own business."

Hearing that, I decided not to give a shit about Greg or his kid, figuring that an older boy wouldn’t bother with a fourteen-year-old anyway. Just bring on two weeks of freedom! The rest I’d wing.

A week later I was standing in front of two small cabins in a quiet, remote woods nestled on the shore of a lake in the Adirondack range of upstate New York. It was the most beautiful place I’d ever seen, a regular paradise.

Dad and I drove up two days before Greg and his son were to arrive. When I asked him whose campsite it was he stunned me by saying he and Greg owned the place together and had built the cabins, quickly adding with a wink, "And I’d take it as a personal favor if you wouldn’t mention that little fact to your mother."

"What campsite?" I shrugged. I always stayed out of parental quarrels and this was no time to change.

In the time Dad and I were together on the road and at the camp we both started to relax and open up a little with each other, more than we’d ever been at home. It was our first time together, and I started seeing my Dad as another man entirely, smiling, warm, easy-going, ready to joke around a lot and get downright clownish.

He even gently teased me about how long a time I spent in the bathroom; "choking the chicken" was his colorful description, adding that I needn’t feel weird because he used to do it, and so had every guy at fourteen since the human race got going. But not once did Dad pry into my sexual activities, showing a real respect for my privacy while letting me know it was okay to be who I was. Feeling more at ease with him as our time together passed, I began to tease back. I started to find out that I liked this guy. Of course, I was still too embarrassed to talk about my hot wrestling fantasies with guys. Too much, way too much.

I bunked in the second cabin ten yards diagonally away from the main cabin, Dad winking when he said I’d need privacy. Sensing my apprehension about Sean, Dad said not to worry, Sean was a friendly guy and will treat you okay. In any case, sleeping alone in that cabin the first two nights was my first real privacy and I jerked my rod to my wrestling pictures and squirted bearcub juice ‘till I hit the timbers. Adios, San Diego.

But I did wonder what this Greg and Sean were like. After all, I was going to be there for two weeks.

Early the third morning, the Adirondack silence was jarred by the shouts of loud men’s voices jolting me awake. I sat upright in the folding bed and as usual so did my bearcub cock.

Pulling the curtain back to see what was going on I saw these two big, burly bears shouting and acting like two big overgrown kids, bear-hugging, mock-punching and slapping each other. Dad? Is that really you? Jeez, I really don’t know this guy, I mumbled.

And Greg: now there was one great big, hot bear, rugged looking, definitely no office worker. Greg was a man whose body had been molded by the outdoors and hard physical work. I remembered that Dad said he’d done a lot of physical work from his youth, and was a carpenter and woodworker with his own successful small business.

Greg and my Dad were built a lot alike. Greg was a six-footer at least, had really thick curly black hair and a dark beard. The guy was a brick shithouse with a thick barrel chest, heavy arms and legs, and a hairy fucker, too, since he was wearing shorts and an open, sleeveless shirt. My Dad was 6-foot-2 with medium brown straight hair and always wore a bushy mustache over a square jaw. Both probably weighed around 220 pounds or so.

Seeing the two of ‘em together, with my usual good-morning pistol cocked and ready to shoot, I couldn’t help thinking that it would be hot seeing these two big old bears wrestling their asses off.

Yeah, that would be hot, very hot to watch. Two big furry bears, big fuckers, all lathered up and---

Suddenly I didn’t believe what I saw. Into my line of vision walked the hottest looking young bearcub guy I’d ever laid eyes on. I mean, this was the Lord of Bearcubs.

My boner got even harder.

Without a doubt this was the bearcub I’d wrestled in all my jerkoff fantasies since I was a kid! Even at that distance from my cabin I could tell Sean was my vision of the ideal, ultimate cub bear.

At sixteen, this guy was as ripe as you could want a man and built for action: a beefy body on a thick manly frame, rugged looking shoulders and chest. He had a head of thick, shaggy jet-black hair that fell down over his thick muscular neck, two killer dark eyes, and a square manly jaw. In a tanktop shirt he showed off a good, generous coat of body hair over thickly muscled legs, arms, and ankles. His chest? Big, power-packed, magnificently hairy pecs! He even had a beard shadow. It looked like he stood about an inch or two taller than me, and I was then 5-foot-10. Seeing him next to Greg there was no doubt Sean was his son.

‘Holy shiitt!’ Check out this fucker! Man, that’s one hot fuckin’ bear!’ My hushed voice cracked.

Buck naked and hornier than ever, I kneeled up, my hands locked around my thick rod. My mouth dried into a desert and my heart pounded inside my hairy chest, my eyes slammed shut as a new vision took hold of my mind: it was a place deep and secluded in the thick mass of forest, far from human sight, where I, Luke the Bearcub, fought Sean the Bearcub Lord. Naked, the sunlight dappling on our hairy bodies, we were locked in hard combat, each seeking victory.

Rolling over and over on the ground in a frenzied struggle, our sweat-soaked legs, arms, and chests were caked with soil and pine needles and bits of grass. A savage, hirsute young warrior in a furious wrestling trial against his chief adversary, a battle of manhood, muscle, and will, a contest between equals.

And suddenly the advantage turned and was mine: closer to my victory, I pinned his weight down, flat on his back, pressed hard into the loose soil under the weight of my body; pressing him down as hard as I could, pressing my prone, hard body hard on his, our hairy chests pressed together, our bellies, our legs grapevined, and then I ... I ---

Then I shot the longest, thickest, fattest juice ribbons that ever splashed out a fourteen-year-old’s wang . And as my fresh cumjuice was splattering all over the fucking place, the cabin door swung open and --- you guessed it --- Sean walks in, hollering, "Hey, where’s Luke?!"

Sean’s duffel bag flew and crashed on top of the other cot while I froze as my fantasy bear headed right at me as I’m shooting jism, his hand outstretched and a big shit-eating grin all over his face.

"Hey, I’ve been really looking forward to meeting-----!"

What’s that saying about first impressions? My heart pounded so loudly in my throat I thought I’d choke. When you fuck up, I heard myself say, you fuck up big time.

"What the fuck--!" Big silence. Sean stopped cold, the big grin vanished. His eyes widened and he just stared down at me, my boner, and the pools of fresh jism.

"Whooaa! Alright Luke!" His voice echoed off the cabin walls. "Hey, old man --- looks like you and me have a lot in common. Every morning when I wake up I shoot jism all over the place too. Good hot manjuice! Man, I love it! I looove jerkin’ my hard old piece o’ meat!"

The big grin beamed again, and to my shock and total awe, in mock-serious fashion Sean bent his legs at the knees, threw back his big frame as he pretended to stroke his meat, contorting his facial expression, mock-groaning, and then jerking his body as he pretended to shoot his jism.

He smiled at me triumphantly, putting his hand out. "I guess it’s gonna be sort of wet in here, whether it rains or not! Nice meeting ya, Luke old man!"

I remember exhaling, our hands clasping hard together, and how clammy with cumjuice my hand was as he took it in his and that he didn’t mind. I remember the power of his grip and the strength and beauty of Sean’s burly, hirsute body standing over me and that huge, friendly, give-a-shit grin. I remember wanting to jump him then and there and rip off his clothes and start rasslin’.

Luke, I told myself, I don’t think we’re in San Diego any more.

The first day was quiet, Dad and I helped Greg and Sean unpack their gear. Greg was this big friendly, funny bear and I took to him right away.

In spite of the two-year age difference Sean didn’t seem to care and was acting like I was the proverbial long-lost brother. He also managed to get me hard several times because he was a really physical kind of guy who loved roughhouse and horseplay.

The next morning after breakfast, Dad and Greg said they were going fishing for the day out on the lake, and asked --- and asked politely, mind you --- whether Sean and I care to join them, or did we have other plans?

Before I could draw breath Sean piped up, wearing his usual shit-eating big grin, slapped me hard on the back and yanked me by my hair and blurted loudly, "Yeah you’re damn right we’ve got our own plans! I’m taking my new buddy Luke here hiking. Someone’s gotta show the man the Adirondacks and teach him how to survive the wilderness, so it might as well be me."

Greg and Dad wished us a good day getting lost in the woods and we told them we didn’t think much of their boating skills anyway as they shoved off. And in my Dad’s eyes I noticed a great gleam of delight at my obvious joy in a new friendship, a buddy’s companionship.

It was an ideal summer say, hot and clear, and the woods crackled with life. Sean and I hiked our way through the beautiful woodlands ringing the lake. It was quiet and we saw very few other human beings. Sean had been here a lot and knew every single trail. And had the forethought to tote a backpack crammed with his version of trail mix: popcorn, peanut butter crackers, and two canteens of water.

As each hour passed Sean was becoming a better friend and I was more relaxed with him than I’d ever been with any guy before. Not only was he my hot fantasy man, but he was really genuine, funny, and the friendliest sucker I ever met.

The day before Id got up enough balls to ask bluntly whether he really minded hanging around me, considering I was only fourteen and all, Sean just shrugged. "Who gives a shit? I like you, Luke, I’m hoping we’ll be good buddies." And then with that huge shit-eating grin he grabs hold of my crotch and says, "And on our own terms. Besides, any guy who can shoot a bucket of cum like you at six in the a. m. is definitely worth knowing!"

Sean was about as physically uninhibited a guy as you could get. He was constantly grabbing me, hugging and play-punching and grabbing me by a body part, or putting me in a headlock or half-nelson and I was getting a definite message he wanted me to respond in kind.

As the day wore on I did, cautiously at first. But as time passed I was getting used to his rough but friendly horseplay and gave it back in good measure. There were messages silently passing between us and a bond was sealing. We were play-wrestling a lot, trading headlocks and other holds. While these ‘matches’ lasted about a minute they were making me feel something else besides the boner that would not go away: damn close to ecstatic.

We didn’t hike too hard because Sean kept saying we should save our energy and just enjoy the day. So we stopped whenever we felt like it and kicked back. Sean talked about how he loved it here in the Adirondacks, and said what he’d learned about woodcraft and hiking his Dad had taught him on their frequent backpacking trips.

At noon we were atop a high ridge overlooking the lake and the sun was beating down hotter. We sat to rest a while on a rock. Sean peeled off his T-shirt and my mouth started watering. All man, he had the thick meaty pecs covered with a bee-you-tee-full pelt of curly black hair I’d ever seen on any kid near my own age. Of course when I saw Sean shirtless my dick re-fueled and bulged big and full in my shorts.

Feeling at ease and really horny, I pulled off my shirt too. Sitting closely alongside me, Sean’s green eyes trained down at my swollen crotch and joked about me and my dick. He put his arm around me and punched my pec with his other arm.

"Hey Luke, you know what they say? --- a hard man is good to find!"

The afternoon passed, and we yakked about schools and teachers, guys, friends, jerks, dicks, boobs, girls, sports, jocks, movies, actors, video games, and a dozen other topics and eaten up all the snacks Sean brought we noticed it was getting late and decided to head back

"Man, am I glad you and your Dad showed up here, buddy! You and me are gonna have some real fun, the way you and me want it!" he said, winking.

After feasting on some freshly cooked trout in our Dads’ cabin that evening, Sean tapped my shoulder and motioned for us to cut out while the two older bears were having a sort of intensely quiet chat as they washed up the dishes. We left, our Dads paying no attention. The freedom to come and go as we pleased was a high.

That night was steamy hot and the cabin was roasting. We lit an oil lantern, pulled the door wide open and kicked back and pulled off every stitch of clothing except our briefs and lay down on our cots, yakking about TV shows and martial-arts actors when suddenly in mid-sentence Sean leaps up off his cot.

"Hey Luke man, let’s hit the lake!"

Sean was the spontaneous sort, And I was getting to know him better by the minute. I answered with a look that said, Sure, why the fuck not? And I jumped up.

"Yeah, that’s my man! C’mon, buddy -- Vacation! Camping! AND Freedom!" Sean hollered as he pulled off his briefs and stood there two feet away from me, bareass naked. All I could do was stare straight down at the best slab of meat I ever saw, bobbing up and down from a curly-haired groin.

Flinging a towel over my face Sean chuckled and said, "And up here ya don’t need any fucking swimsuits! So get naked and let’s hit that lake" And with a loud, high-pitched wolf-howl Sean raced out the door as I tore off my briefs and took off in wild pursuit letting out a wolf-howl of my own. I was having the time of my life.

The strong light of a full moon glistened on the lake and our naked bodies as we dove into the water, which was bathtub warm. The two of us splashed around, two young bear guys hollering and howling our heads off as we started the obligatory water fight and tackled each other and dunked each other and grabbed each other. I’d never felt so free or open with anyone as with Sean. Big, hot, rugged, beefy, hairy Sean the Prince of Bearcubs.

After all the horseplay we quieted down and swam. As Sean floated on his back I watched the moonlight glisten on his wet, hairy torso and dick. We were hushed. He shot me an impish smile, more impish than usual. He pulled himself up in the water, looking at me as if he wanted me to say something, that it was my turn.

"Let’s go dry off," he murmured and stepped out onto the shore.

Toweling off, we stood facing each other, Sean staring at me with his impish grin. The awesome power and grandeur of his big, hirsute bearcub body was radiant in the white light of the full moon, and I couldn’t believe this great stud was standing in front of me, and was my friend. As he slung his towel over his back and stood motionless facing me I saw his dick bobbing, a huge chunk of rock hard bearcock growing out of his furry groin. The expression of raw delight in his rugged face told he wanted me to see and to share his manhood.

And the words tumbled out of me. "I’m not the only good hard man around here."

"Told ya we had lots in common, " Sean answered, moving a step closer to me.

"Man...!" I said, taking a step, "I’d love to see that bear cock of yours shoot jism!"

Sean took one more step that brought us mere inches apart. His deep voice was low and hushed.

"That’s fair, buddy, ‘cause I owe ya one for yesterday morning!" As he said that our hard rods collided and rubbed against each other.

Sean reached down, grabbed his dick and whacked it against my boner as hard as he could. I went all lightheaded, my body tensed, quivered; a dizzying bolt that felt like electric charge shot through my body.

Thwack! Awwwhhhh! Harder, Sean slapped and whacked his dick on mine again and again.

"So ya wanna fight, huh man?" I grabbed my rigid tool and slapped it against his rod as hard as I could.

Two naked bearcubs, we stood there and fought with our cocks. At first I was scared I’d come, but as I looked at Sean and saw his wild expression of sheer pleasure and joy and felt my own sweet rush of wildly electric pain, I mastered myself. The cock-fight was too good, and I returned every hard slap of Sean’s tool with a harder whack of my .

Loud noises. Thud --- Boom! Awwwrrrghh!

It was a few seconds before I realized it wasn’t me or Sean. A ruckus was coming from our Dads’ cabin, sounding like things crashing against the walls.

"What th’ fuck ...?" I blurted, shaking and quivering as Sean kept up his dick-whacking.

The noises grew louder. My curiosity and my dick were now up. I didn’t want to break off this wild cock-fight, but Sean read me.

"Wanna check that out?" he whispered, and landed the hardest whack of his cock yet.

"Okay .... yeah.... Yeah!" I was about ten seconds from blast-off, but managed to pull myself away.

Grabbing our towels we took off up the slope for the cabin, my concern for our Dads’ safety vying with my raging fourteen-year-old hardon wanting to mess some more with Sean, who seemed oddly undisturbed by all the commotion.

Reaching the cabin, we peered into the window. I damn near passed out when I saw what was happening inside.

Our two sires were wrestling on a big thick old mats, the furniture pushed up against the walls. And the two older bears both as buck naked as the day they were born.

I was dumbfounded on top of being hornier than hell, thanks to my cockfight with Sean. There were these two big bareass, sweat-dripping, hairy-assed, naked bear men rasslin’ around their cabin floor for all they were worth. And one of them was my father.

They were also damn good at it and having the time of their lives. Now I knew why Dad was always so cheerful when he came back from his vacation!

Hard as I tried, I couldn’t stop watching the two of them. Yeah, right, I didn’t try.

I watched as my father and Greg grabbed each other in a huge bearhug and with great growls of sweet pain and pleasure mashed each other’s bodies hard until they damn near passed out! Then Dad brought his hands down on Greg’s face and Greg released his grip and started to fall backward but caught himself. But then Dad managed to grab his leg, tripping him. Greg hit the floor and Dad flung himself down on him and the heavy crash, huge and wonderful, as the cabin trembled and shook.

Hushed as we watched our fathers’ combat crouched against the window, Sean and knew they didn’t care if we were their audience. Sean’s rugged body pressed against mine and our hairy legs rubbing together, when I glanced over into my new friend’s face I saw a look that was full of wildness and pride and daring all at once.

Inside our papa bears were rolling around with their arms and legs locked together in a fierce struggle, when next they started gut punching each other. Each punch brought a loud, biting growl of pain, intense and sharp. I wondered if their match was turning in an all-out fight.

Greg managed to wrench Dad over and pin him down, grapevining him. There was a pause that lasted longer than I expected. The two combatants were lying perpendicular across our line of vision. I could see their big chests pressed against each other, matted with sweat, heaving hard. There was no other movement.

Then in a microsecond he released Dad and jerked his huge body up into that air over my Dad slammed his sweat-caked body down on top of him, hard, very hard, a great hard thud of body against body, raw heaving hairy chest against raw heaving hairy chest, of Sean’s Dad against my Dad, dropping himself down on him again and again. Each time a loud aching groan rushed out of my Dad, a equally loud growl roared from Greg.

At last they were spent and motionless, two exhausted fighters. All I could see were two bodies one atop the other.

Then standing up, Sean put his arm around me, pulled me up and gestured for us to leave. Wordlessly, arm in arm, we walked to our cabin. He looked at me, not with his impish shit-eating grin. Secrets were getting aired, new bonds were sealing.

Still arm in arm we entered our cabin and Sean turned to me, putting his hands on my shoulders. Naked, the intensity in his face was so fierce it almost lit up the room.

"Luke --- I gotta tell you this, man." His voice was calm as the lake and so was his passion. "Since I was a kid I’ve wanted to wrestle a hot guy, man. I jerk my meat thinking about it ... I could see the guy, too." He punched my pecs. "Real hot bear ... you know the type, buddy?"

I put my hands up to his shoulders, and we shook each other. "You fucker! So that’s what you were getting at today, when you said we’d do things our way!"

Without another word he broke and ran to the storage closet at the rear of the cabin and dragged out a huge old set of thick mats. My heart pounded as I came alongside, grabbed hold of the mats and we yanked them along the floor until they were dead center in the room and then let them drop. When we hurriedly unfolded them the mats just about filled the little cabin room.

"NOW!" I shouted, and we crashed head-on like two runaway trucks.

Luke and Sean, two young bears aching for a battle we’d each dreamed of, wanting to risk all of it and pit all our blood and muscle against each other, began a wild struggle. There was no need to tell each other what this match was about, what we wanted.

As I wrapped my arms around his big thick hairy chest and squeezed him and felt our chests pounding, Sean’s arms enveloped my upper body and wrenched my back tighter, tighter, harder, harder.

We pushed, each trying to force the other down. It was no good and we grunted louder as we kept trying every trick and maneuver to get the other off balance and down. Our eyes flashed and our chests burned hot. Hands, arms, legs were our weapons and we used them freely.

I found that I was a better wrestler than I thought. I flashed a shit-eating grin of my as Sean tried to rassle me to the ground but couldn’t. After that we kicked each other karate-style, and Sean tried several times to grab my leg but I was quicker than he figured and than I realized. I wouldn’t budge.

Sean threw a kick that landed in my thigh near my groin, and I almost caught him and tripped him. We started kicking savagely and threw a few old-fashioned rabbit punches at our trunks, arms and legs, avoiding our faces.

Getting wilder, we tackled each other so fiercely, so wildly focused on our battle that it was a few minutes before we realized we’d wrestled ourselves right out the door onto the grassy field in front of the cabin.

Then Sean grabbed my pecs and squeezed them as hard as he could, pinching some hairs in my chest, as my eyes slammed shut and bolts of exquisite pain flashed through my body. He did know me pretty well in a short time.

Momentarily limp, he clutched my legs and pulled up so that I crashed backward against the thick grass with a loud thud. At the instant I made contact with the floor Sean dive-bombed on top of me, slamming his body as hard as he could against mine and knocking the wind out of me. An enormous gasp of air rushed out my mouth and I grimaced I saw his body arching into the air and, thump, another hard body-bomb.

With a great delicious gulp of pain I took the hard, heavy blow of his full naked body down on mine. He raised himself quickly again, arching up and thudding down hard on me again. This time our breath exploded out, gasping and ecstatic.

Another vise-grip on my pecs, then again, twisting and then as I writhed and groaned his mouth found my hairy pec and he bit down hard on my nipple. And with every moment we were wilder, wild and alive.

Then my clenched fists took his hair I began to twist. It shook his confidence and he lost his momentum as I pulled his head sidelong and rolled him until he was flat on his belly. Now I jumped on top of him and got him in a sort of Boston-crab hold and he cried out.

"Awrrgh! Fucker!" Sean moaned. "That was dirty, man!"

"Yeah! Now let’s get real dirty!" I spat back, standing and pulling him up by the hair and throwing him over on his back.

Now it was my turn and I arched my body and let my weight fall full down on him hard. Sean let out a loud groan as he took the blow of my body, my dick slamming into his hairy groin and our chests and bellies caked with sweat and dirt. I body-bombed him again, and again, and again.

Each of us groaned and yelped and squealed, but never let up. That was a state of rapture. The hot, steamy July night sheeted sweat all over us and matted the hair on our chests, arms, groins, and legs. Two wild young warrior bears fought to their limits, raw naked bodies gleaming in the moonlight.

I jumped up, stepped back and stood crouched over him, daring him to stand and renew our combat. Neither of us wanted to quit and we knew it.

We grabbed each other in a crunching, grinding bearhug. Our arms clamped shut around each other’s body, we felt each other’s raw power collide as our two bodies locked together. Giving all the brutal pain we could, we also freed energy and desire that was dammed up for years, tucked away in bathroom jerking off, hidden in nightly fantasies.

With a loud groan from both our mouths we let go; both winning. We sprung back, glaring at each other, chests panting heavily. We saw the absolute pleasure in our wild expressions.

"Had enough practice?" Sean snorted.

"Fuck you I have !" I spat back. "Try this...!"

And I jabbed a hard punch into his gut, not hard beyond the intuited limits of our mutual tolerance for pain which we had been reading perfectly throughout the combat so far. We didn’t have to stop and explain.

The gut punch stunned and excited him, he gasped as his body folded momentarily but he straightened up instantly and moved in on me, grinning even brighter and glaring eye to eye as he sent his folded hand swatting my dick and balls.

Now I bent over, and we halted. A moment of truthful silence as we grinned, and renewed our fight. Not only did we struggle with muscle and It wasn’t only

Simultaneous fists found their targets and our guts absorbed them, blow after blow. Then slaps across the dangling, raw flesh of our manhood began as we started another cockfight. Our hands folded, we slapped and whacked our rods until suddenly we gasped, stopped, and fell against each other. We had found and crossed to the borders of pain and ecstasy and energy.

Stepping back, we braced our heads against each other, hands on each other’s shoulders, and quietly watched our cocks fill up with blood and cum and tighten into long, thick branches of flesh. We pushed the cockheads against each other. We stood like that for some time. And after a moment I grabbed his dick and he grabbed my cock and we squeezed our cocks. We squeezed our cocks together, rubbing and twisting and clutching them hard so that after a few seconds neither could sense which tool belonged to which man.

And then as my face grimaced and twisted, a long deep moan rose in my throat and flowed out of my mouth as a warm stream of manjuice splashed out of my dick; an offering of one man to another, the creamy prize of our combat. And in the same instant that my thick cum splashed on his belly and soaked the glistening hairs on his chest and belly Sean’s manhood thundered, white streaks of hot jism squirted out of Sean’s thick rod and drenched my pubes and my hairy belly, chest, and even my throat and face.

We squirted so much I thought we would never stop.

Instantly we started crying and laughing together, neither could utter a syllable that made sense. Collapsing into a heap of wet hairy flesh, I landed prone on top of Sean in a clasping embrace and we were laughing and crying.

"I never ... man .... was ... so fucking terrific ... !" I blubbered.

Sean blubbered and laughed too, for a long silence. Then he pulled me tight. "You and me ... will be friends for life."

We lay there for a long time holding each other, blubbering and laughing.

Then, with a surprising bolt of energy he flipped me over. He was prone on top of me. Our chests and bellies and pelvises were soaked with cum and sweat and Sean started grinding.

The Grin flashed anew. "But it ain’t over yet!" and he tried to pin my arms down. We growled and grappled, howled and locked our bodies together, rolling through over the grassy slope when suddenly we collided into tree trunks.

But the tree trunks were the legs of our two fathers, standing there together just as buck naked as Sean and I were. They had been watching for some time.

"So, um," Greg deadpanned, "you guys ever do any wrestling?"

Dad nodded and smiled. Then they watched Sean and me wrestle some more.

Postscript: Exhausted but rapturous, the four of us later sat naked on the grassy field and talked for a while as fathers and sons had never spoken. There were no longer the usual barriers between us. It was a new day.

Sean and I hiked and wrestled and grew together every day and every night after that until it was time to return home. My stories about mom’s tight-ass relatives in San Diego brought some laughter around the table in those days, too. Sean praised me warmly for fighting back. "But I know this guy’s got lots of fight in him," he said with a smirk.

Sean and I had bonded as our fathers did years before. When it was time to go, we felt the miles of distance but we’d pledged to keep the bond we had close, having beaten the power of our secrets together on that night when our fantasies took flesh.

A month after that trip, my parents agreed to an amicable divorce and Dad told me he’d accepted Greg’s offer to be a partner in his carpentry business, meaning he was moving back to the Adirondacks. He quietly asked me what I wanted, and without a beat I said I wanted to go with him.

The campsite played a big part in our lives, all of us spent lots of time there. After Sean got his driver’s license he and I went there by ourselves when we needed to; there was lots of rasslin’, hiking, and plain fantastic times in the years ahead.

Poor Petey ended up with mom and her family, and joined the Navy at seventeen. At nineteen, Petey was busted out of the Navy. For being gay.

But that’s another story.

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