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Wrestling Match

The following story is a work of erotic fiction for entertainment purposes only. It is not intended to be read by minors. It includes sex and racial humiliation. Anyone who might be offended by this type of story should find something else to read.

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 "Next time you foul me like that you're going to have to pay for it," Thomas barked in pain and anger, holding his ribs where the black boy had elbowed him during their one-on-one game of basketball.

"It wasn't a foul," Rufus shot back at the white boy, "You're just a pussy who don't know how to play the game like it's played in the streets."

"Pussy?" Thomas glared at the boy, his face getting red, "I'll show you who the `pussy' is. Fuck this sissy game of basketball. You think you're so tough? Let's see if you can wrestle."

Rufus seemed stunned, for a moment, at the suggestion of switching games. Then tilted his head sideways, smiling with confidence and casually tossed the ball over his shoulder. 

"Oh hex yeah, white boy," Rufus said, his body language was pure intimidation as he strode toward Thomas, who was still nearly doubled over, grasping his ribs in pain, "ya wanna wrestle, ya little punk, we can sho nuff wrestle."

Before Thomas could say anything the black boy bolted for the boy's legs in a tackle, sending Thomas tumbling to the ground, sprawled on his back.

"This gonna be too easy," Rufus smirked as he pushed the white boy's shoulders against the wooden gym floor. "All white boys are soft," Rufus thought to himself, "No way this white boy is gonna know how to wrestle."

But Thomas surprised the boy. He quickly recovered his senses and flipped the black boy on his back. Before Rufus realized what was happening Thomas was on top of him, dominating him. The full weight of his body was pressing against the black boy, pinning him to the floor.

Rufus struggled to get up, but he couldn't wiggle free. The white boy jeered in his face, making the whole thing worse. This wasn't supposed to happen, Rufus thought, all white boys are punks.

As Thomas held the black boy down against the floor Rufus began to notice something odd.  The white boy's cock seemed to be getting thicker and thicker underneath his sweatpants. The boy was enjoying his power over Rufus. The boy was enjoying dominating him.

"Oh hell naw - you aint gonna treat me like yo bitch motherfucker," Rufus growled in protest, but no matter how hard he struggled he couldn't break free.

"Admit it, punk," Thomas chided, "You've been bested." He started grinding his aroused groin against the subdued black boy's body, like all conquerors do when they've subdued a rebellious tribe. The victor can always have his way with weaker boy's body. It was no different here - on this gym floor.

Rufus struggled frantically to stop the white boy from using him like a bitch, but it was futile. He felt Thomas' big white cock growing harder and harder as it pressed against his body.

Thomas sneered, "You like that big white cock rubbing up against you, boy?"

Rufus felt himself weakening. He felt himself surrendering as Thomas lay on top of him, humping on him like some bitch.

The wrestling match was over, although neither boy would officially acknowledge it. They had moved beyond wrestling. This was now the victory lap where Thomas was celebrating forcing the unruly black boy into submission.

"You want this big white cock inside of you, don't you boy?"

Thomas had Rufus' arms pinned against the floor. There was nothing this black boy could do about it.

Yeah, Rufus wanted it, but he could never admit it. He wanted it so bad he felt his own cock starting to get hard. 

He wrapped his arms around Thomas' powerful trunk, pretending to struggle to get out from under him, but he knew the match was over. There was no longer any fight left inside of Rufus to resist this white boy who was now lying on top of him - pressing down in his defeated black body, humping him like a girl. 

Thomas' firm chest was pressing hard against Rufus. 

The black boy surrendered to the intimacy of having this white boy so close to him like this. He breathed in the musky odor of the white boy's body. Despite the sweat, it somehow smelled clean and purifying.

Rufus allowed the white boy to enfold him in his arms and hump him like a helpless slave. 

Rufus tried to resist the feelings that swept over him, but he wanted to surrender, give into the white boy's power, and let Thomas have complete mastery over him.

Thomas' thick, hard manhood pressed against Rufus's dark body, rubbing against the black boy's groin and his thighs, dominating and mocking him like he was a cheap ghetto whore.

"You like that cock, nigga? You like that cock rubbing on top of you like that?"

Yeah, Rufus liked it. He didn't understand why, but he knew he liked it. Rufus almost wanted the white boy to fuck him for real. 

He felt himself surrendering to his tormentor. 

Rufus had met his master. He instinctively turned his head to the side and brushed his lips against the white boy's biceps and forearms, wanting to kiss them, acknowledging the white boy's power.

Thomas humped harder and harder on top of Rufus. The black boy no longer even pretended to resist. He even pushed back, offering his dark body to be used, like it should be. 

Now both boys were rubbing against each other with passionate abandon. They forgot that they were "wrestling," forgot that they were "straight," all they knew was that they were enjoying this passionate embrace as their aroused bodies rubbed against each other - master and slave - conqueror and conquered.

Rufus stared in the eyes of his tormentor with lust and longing. Thomas' eyes were half-closed with the ecstasy of indifference toward the black body he would use.

A few quick gasps and Thomas spontaneously ejaculated inside his sweat pants. Rufus felt the sticky moisture spreading against his thighs. 

A few more gasps and Rufus was also ejaculating. His thick, creamy cum juices filled his boxer shorts and ran down his brown thighs.

The white boy held onto Rufus's body and humped him a few more times for good measure, before letting him go.

Rufus crawled to his knees, shaking his head as if coming out of a trance. His crotch was sticky, wet and uncomfortable. A wave of shame and embarrassment flashed across his face as Thomas looked down on him and sneered.

Rufus knew he'd been used like a cheap tramp. He'd been had and discarded like a cheap black ho. Thomas had won this fight of both mind and body.

Rufus's mouth hung open, stupidly. He looked at the boy who towered over him.  

Rufus was disgusted with himself, and yet he knew he wanted more.
