(A view from “The Mission” of the Santa Rosa and San Jacinto Mountains)

Wrestler's Story - Jeff Jeffers
 At the Mission Mojave

By: Ron Nelson
(© 2011 by the author)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

A few words of explanation from the Wrestlers’ little proofreading Christmas Elf before we begin:  Below, in this titillating story, there are frequent references to The Mission Mojave Resort or just The Mission Mojave, and there are several references to the Mojave Mission.  To avoid confusion, “Mojave Mission” refers to the Spanish-built mission of over three hundred years ago, and if the word “Mission” precedes “Mojave”, it refers to the Resort in today’s story.  It gets very stimulating;  believe me.  If you like the idea of  wrestling with, or tumbling around, man-handling an exotic hunk — and who doesn’t??? — Jeff and BlackHawk will get you into a no-holds (or is that, “holes”?) – barred, moment-by-moment entrancement with what’s going on or cumming off!  Oops!  I meant “coming” … I think.  I gotta go get cleaned up now.  ENJOY!

 Chapter  One
Jeff And The Mission Mojave


Jeff Jeffers turned his deep burgundy and chrome wire spoke wheeled VTX 1300 cruiser motorcycle into the hard baked parking area next to The Mission Mojave Resort just outside of Palm Springs, California.  Not that, at first glance, it looked like much of a “resort” to him.  Instead, it looked very much what it must have looked almost 350 years ago when it was built as a mission by the Spanish missionaries and conquistadores to bring religion to the native heathens. 


Most of the missions along the coast of California prospered, but the inland missions built along the edge of the vast, hot and dry Mojave Desert barely survived;  however, the old adobe walls, while yet standing, looked old, cracked and badly weathered.


In fact, it wasn’t long after they were built that the inland missions came to be more like forts as the native Indians — lean, smart and powerfully built — turned out to be more than a match for the Spanish priests, soldiers and adventurers who, themselves, were resourceful fighters.  When the two sides met, either in an Indian raid on a fort, or a raid by the Spaniards against an Indian camp, their hand-to-hand wrestling and fighting— many times just one-on-one — could sometimes last for hours as both of the fighters found themselves locked in a desperate struggle with neither man ever willing to give in.


Putting down the bike’s kickstand, which cut the engine, Jeff left his bike in the temporary shade of one of the tall old palm trees outside the resort. He walked over to the heavy dark antique oak entrance door with its original hand-wrought iron bolts and hinges.  A creative and colorful Christmas decoration made of sage brush, palm leaves and a carved mesquite wood ornament hung on the weathered wood, and the little bells on the decoration tinkled when he pulled open the heavy door. 


Jeff stepped over the old — and maybe even original — stone threshold and came into the surprisingly cooler and shaded courtyard.  There he saw a sparkling fountain, palm trees and flowering green shrubs to welcome him.  The palms were artfully decorated in strings of colored lights which gave a festive holiday air to the whole garden surroundings.


The Mojave Mission had been built around one of the rare natural springs in the area, which made it something of a walled oasis at the edge of the desert.  The walled oasis, however, had made it even more of a target for attack by the Indians, from whom it had been taken and who wanted desperately to take it back.  But the solid adobe walls, built by the missionaries and soldiers to withstand any raid, looked as if they could still do the same today despite their weathered and cracked appearance.


Starting as a mission, it soon became a fort. Then, abandoned as a military installation, it was a territorial prison for a few years, then a warehouse, and finally it was just abandoned.  About five years before, two men, partners in their lives and living in San Francisco, decided to make a change in their life.  They bought the old mission and decided to turn it into a resort for men only who wanted to relax and escape for a while from whatever it was they wanted to get away from.


Short of funds, or maybe underestimating what it would take to bring the old mission-fort-prison-warehouse back to life again, they did what they could to fix up the place while still retaining its old mission and prison atmosphere.


The central courtyard of the old mission, with its original spring and green shrubs and plantings remained as it was, but the spring now fed into a large and secluded swimming pool, ringed by palm trees and a deck with lounge chairs for sunning.  The old cells where the priests, soldiers and later the prisoners lived became the twenty-four or so guest rooms of the resort.  The old prison office became the resort office, while the original mission chapel became the resort’s dining and  rec room. The old warehouse became a gym for the resort, while a small thick-walled side room, originally used as the penance room and then as a store room for guns and ammunition, now held a speed bag while the floor was covered with a softly padded blue vinyl wrestling mat.


All the rooms in the old mission stayed naturally cool as the mission, and later when it became a fort, for safety against the Indians, had almost no outside windows.  Today the absence of outside windows kept out the blazing heat of the sun, while the inner windows, which faced the courtyard,  many of them still barred from the old prison days, let in the cool air and shade from the fountain and trees in the courtyard.


Jeff knew he’d like his couple of nights’ stay at The Mission Mojave Resort as soon as he entered the courtyard even if his buddy Keith couldn’t be with him that weekend.


Jeff was twenty-four and Keith, twenty-six.  Both had jobs in marketing communications, but in different companies, and both had motorcycles which they liked to ride out on weekends to escape their day jobs.  They’d met at a small gym in San Francisco, not far from the SF-Oakland Bay Bridge.  As it happened, they’d  planned to ride together down to Palm Springs and stay at The Mission Mojave for the Christmas weekend.  But with Keith’s unexpectedly having to work for a client that weekend to meet a deadline, Jeff decided he would go alone.


Keith was taller, lean and muscular, about six feet and one-seventy pounds, while Jeff was shorter and stockier, about five-nine and one-eighty, with a muscular body-builder’s physique.  As soon as they first saw each other at the gym, they knew they wanted to know each other better.


The day they first met, Keith was bench-pressing one of the heavier weights and was having some trouble with it, so Jeff went over to spot him.  Keith gave Jeff a smile of thanks for the help as he looked up from the end of the workout bench into Jeff’s bulging crotch between his thick muscular thighs.  Then from there, he looked on up into the bulging jockstrap Jeff was wearing under his tight workout trunks.  As Jeff straddled Keith’s head at the end of the bench, Keith liked what he saw.  Jeff, at the same time, looked down at the growing bulge in Keith’s trunks as he pressed the weight he was holding in his hands, liking just as much what he saw of Keith.


It wasn’t long before they began to work out together, each spotting the other and getting his own workout between sets.  Keith could always almost taste the looks of Jeff’s bulging biceps as he did his curls, his thick and muscular thighs every time he did his squats, and his thick and bulging pecs every time he worked on his upper body.  Jeff, at the same time, liked what he saw of Keith’s leaner but no less muscular build when he did his own similar sets.


In talking with each other after a couple of months, Jeff mentioned that his lease was running out on the apartment he was renting, and rents were so high in San Francisco he didn’t know what he was going to do next.  Keith said he had a condo in one of the old converted warehouse buildings facing the bay, but it was almost too big for him, and he’d be glad to have Jeff move in with him so that they could split expenses and both be ahead.  Jeff agreed, and now they’d been living together real easy for the past six months or so.



Early on, soon after they met in the gym, they also found that both of them also liked to get into “anything goes” wrestling, too, mostly for the sensual pleasure of wrestling around with another guy’s  powerful and muscular body and the eventual outcome it might lead to, rather than competitive wrestling.


Many nights, after their gym workouts or on quiet foggy nights or weekends when they were back in their condo alone, they wrestled for an hour or two on the mat they’d set up until they were completely exhausted and drained with whatever the outcome might have been.  They both liked that, and were always ready to come back for more.


At the same time, close as they were, they weren’t possessive of each other. They both knew there were times when they needed to be separated and be with their other friends as well.  So it was that Keith had no problem with Jeff’s going down to The Mission Mojave Resort by himself that Christmas weekend, particularly as Keith was going to be tied up with his job work anyway.



Chapter Two
Jeff Checks In At The Mission Mojave And Meets BlackHawk


The Mission Mojave Resort seemed deserted on the Friday mid-afternoon that Jeff entered through the massive old oak and iron portal.  He saw no one in sight in the courtyard, although one pair of eyes saw him as soon as he entered.


Jeff walked through the refreshing courtyard toward the small “Office” sign.  As he walked toward it, with his muscular build and his carrying the motorcycle helmet in his hand and the good-natured expression on his face, his presence brought an interested grin to the face of the two eyes watching him.


As Jeff stepped into the office, a trim and solidly built man, somewhere in his mid-thirties, wearing a pair of camouflage shorts and a sleeveless army t-shirt which showed a tattoo of a Cherokee bow and arrow on the man’s muscular bicep, turned from the computer screen he was working at, and got up with a smile on his face to greet Jeff.


“Afternoon,” said Jeff, a grin on his face.  “I’m Jeff Jeffers. I’ve got a reservation with you for a couple of nights, although my buddy Keith couldn’t make it.”


“Welcome to The Mission Mojave Resort, Jeff!  I’m Hank Austin, one of the partners — glad to see you.   We got an email from Keith a couple of hours ago saying he couldn’t make it this weekend, which we understand, but we’re glad to have you!”  


Hank checked Jeff in easily.  He also told him they were about half full for the Christmas holiday weekend, although frequently some other guests came in for just the evening as everybody was always welcome at The Mission Mojave.  He then said that while breakfast was included with his stay, the nearest decent restaurant was about four miles away.


However, The Mission Mojave also served an informal “family style” lunch and supper, with beer and cokes on the house, generally with things like chuck wagon steaks, burgers, barbecue, slaw, baked potatoes and similar chuck wagon food if he’d like to stay right at the resort instead of going into town, if he’d let them know which he’d prefer to do.


“Sounds good to me to eat right here, so put me down for one more at the table tonight,” replied Jeff, glad to answer that question in his mind.


“Things are generally pretty quiet here in the evenings as most of our guests provide their own entertainment, but a couple of the guys working here play a pretty good guitar, so we generally have them give us some music under the stars, if you’d like that. 


“We also have the pool and our gym to work out in.   You look like you’re in pretty good shape, Jeff, so you might be finding something or somebody  that interests you there, too,” said Hank, quietly looking at Jeff and thinking to himself ‘Yeah, I expect you might like that - and you wouldn’t be the only one liking to do it with you, either!’  he thought with a silent grin behind his more business-like face.


“You’ll want to get to your room first for now, however, so let me get BlackHawk to show you around and get you to it.”


Before Jeff could even turn around, he sensed someone had come quietly into the office and was standing silently nearby behind him.  He was right.  It was the body with the eyes which had seen and watched him when he first walked into the courtyard from the outside.


“BlackHawk, this is our new man, Jeff — Jeff, our man BlackHawk.  If there’s anything you need or want, just ask him, as he’s the man to take care of it!”


Both Jeff and BlackHawk sized each other up quickly.  BlackHawk was probably in his late twenties or early thirties but it was hard to tell with his dark Indian complexion, high cheekbones, shaved skull and smooth Indian skin.  With his lean but powerfully muscular build he obviously kept in great shape. Jeff instantly liked what he saw. Although BlackHawk didn’t say anything, he was thinking the same thing as he looked at the well-muscled and built Jeff and watched him move about.


Although he, so far, had said nothing, after they left the office, BlackHawk said to Jeff, “I saw you ride up on your motorcycle!  Nice bike!  Wouldn’t mind having one like it myself one of these days!”  At first, Jeff, looking at BlackHawk’s Indian features, figured he might or might not be willing to talk easily to Jeff, as it was his impression that many Indians were more taciturn and rarely spoke more than a few and necessary words at a time. 


But he quickly realized, however, that despite his appearance, BlackHawk was the same as anyone else.  He also knew he wanted to know more about the lithe and powerfully muscled BlackHawk as soon as he could.


“Yeah,” replied Jeff,” I came down  through the back roads and valleys of the center of the state — a lot less traffic and a lot more scenery.   I don’t like to rush things like so many guys, and I like to spread my pleasures out as long as I can.  Sort of like wrestling around with another guy — I’m not really competitive, but like to make it last as long as I can, no matter how it comes out.”  Jeff thought he’d put that wrestling thing in just in case it might come up later on, as he hoped it would, with BlackHawk.  Who knew what the weekend might have in store for him?


“Can I ask you where you got the name ‘BlackHawk’ from?”


“That’s my real name, although my official name in English and the county records is Robert Hawke,” BlackHawk replied.  “But after I finished high school, I went back to my Indian name.  My ancestors were Tohawnee Indians.  They and their tribal families used to cover whole parts of Southern California until the white men took the lands away from us.


“We had a lot of battles and fights over the years with the white man, and now it’s still part of our culture to mess around and get on the mat with him whenever we get a chance, even if we know we can never get our lands back. But still, any time he likes, we still like to get into it with him and see which of us can give-or-take the most punishment now, and enjoy the fight as well,” said BlackHawk, replying to what he knew Jeff was saying to him.


Jeff recalled from reading about the Tohawnees that they were a very intelligent Indian tribe, and powerful and clever fighters and raiders, too.


He also remembered when he and his childhood buddies would go down to visit an old Tohawnee Indian man who lived in a trailer down at the far end of the small California town where he grew up.  Jeff and some of his friends used to like to visit him and let him tell them some tales and stories from his old Indian days.


In the stories he told Jeff and his friends — most of whom were between twelve and fifteen years old — in their earlier days, a Tohawnee warrior was always a great fighter and wrestler who might not only scalp his enemies after he beat them, but in fighting and wrestling with him he would frequently resort to biting off his opponent’s nose or ear,  or sit on his face to suffocate him, or try to slowly choke and weaken him to increase his punishment on his tribal enemies.


Sometimes also, he said, a Tohawnee warrior would  get on top of or behind his foe and wrap his powerful legs around the other’s body to crush him in his grip and smash his heels into the other’s crotch to crush his cock and balls, or sometimes squeeze the other’s pecs until his victim’s flesh oozed out between his fingers to punish him even more.


The old Indian said, too, in describing the sometimes desperate fights between the Tohawnees and their enemies, that a Tohawnee warrior might also, if the enemy he was fighting with ever got him in a head scissors from which he couldn’t escape, suck his opponent’s balls into his mouth and threaten to bite them off if his opponent didn’t release him.


Or, if their fights went on for a long time and as they frequently wrestled naked, they would get into a cockfight with their opponent and get him so aroused that finally he would be forced to shoot his full load and become so weak that the Tohawnee warrior could then finish him off however he liked.


Those were things ordinary history books didn’t mention, of course, and Jeff  and his buddies always wondered if the old Indian was telling them the truth or just making up some fantastic tale to entertain them with because he knew at their age that was what would excite them the most. 


But Jeff had picked up on the stories as he already knew he liked to wrestle around with other guys, and he liked hearing about and talking about old Indian wrestling and fighting tactics.  Sometimes when he got to wrestling around with his buddies, particularly certain ones, he and they tried some of the same tactics and things the old Indian had talked about.  Jeff always knew he liked it when they did get into that sort of thing.


The old Indian said sometimes it worked the other way around too, however, and sometimes it would be the Tohawnees that would get the worst of the fights and lose not only some of their body parts and their strong male juices, as the old Indian called them, but their lives too.


Jeff knew that it was unlikely the Tohawnees went to such lengths as to kill their opponents or each other these days, but he thought he wouldn’t mind getting into it with BlackHawk some time just to see what would happen.


Jeff knew too that even today, twice a year, at the time of the Spring and Fall equinox, all of the Tohawnee tribes got together at one of their old hunting grounds or former Indian villages and recount and relive their old tribal days and traditions.  At those gatherings they would also stage games and contests in which the younger braves and Indians would see who could run the fastest, shoot an arrow closest to a target, or fight and wrestle an opponent, but without the same final deadly punishments as they had in the past.


With those thoughts in his mind, Jeff took another side-glance at BlackHawk.  He liked even more what he saw.  He wondered if BlackHawk participated in those games and wrestling matches today, and what might happen if he got a chance to wrestle around with BlackHawk some time himself?  He didn’t know it, but BlackHawk was thinking the same thing with the good natured and muscular Jeff walking next to him.


After crossing the courtyard, BlackHawk showed Jeff the rec room of The Mission where they ate breakfast and whatever other meals they would be having at The Mission, the swimming pool, and then the gym.  BlackHawk then also showed Jeff the adjoining wrestling room with the blue vinyl wrestling mats and speed bag.


“Maybe you’d like to work out in the gym and here on the mats,” said BlackHawk.


“Yeah, I could see doing that, especially if it included wrestling around with you, BlackHawk,” said Jeff, reaching out to lightly grab the back of BlackHawk’s neck, the same as a standing starting wrestling hold.


BlackHawk smiled and reached out to take the same hold on the back of Jeff’s neck.  It felt good to both of them to have the other’s strong hand wrapped around the back of his neck. At first, both resisted the other’s hold, but then both slowly and willingly pulled the other down to his knees.  But then, BlackHawk slowly released his hold on Jeff’s neck and got back up to his feet, and Jeff got back to his, also.


“I guess I’m supposed to be on duty now and showing you around, but when I get off duty tonight, maybe we can see about some more then?” BlackHawk questioned, a tantalizing grin on his face.


“Yeah,” replied Jeff, “I know I’d like that, and maybe I should first get my gear in from my bike, too.”


Together Blackhawk and Jeff then walked over to his room, on the same side of the courtyard as the gym, when BlackHawk heard himself paged to come back over to the office as soon as he was able.


Jeff knew then it was going to be a real good weekend at The Mission Mojave, for sure!


After Jeff transferred his bike’s saddlebags into his room, he figured he’d check out The Mission Mojave a little more to familiarize himself with where everything was.  By then it was getting to be late afternoon.  The Mission Mojave was a clothing-optional resort, and as Jeff checked out the courtyard again, he saw four or five guys swimming nude in the pool, three or four more lounging in the deck chairs talking quietly, and a couple more guys working out in the gym.  BlackHawk was nowhere to be seen.


Jeff figured he’d take a swim in the pool and then maybe sack out for a while until the sun got lower and it cooled off. A small sign outside the dining area said supper would be at 6pm for those who were staying in at The Mission Mojave.  As he swam in the pool he met and liked the guys here, and figured he might like to get to know a couple of them better — if nothing further developed that evening with BlackHawk, that is.


Promptly at six o’clock he heard the melodic sounds of some small bells being rung. They were a light tone and sounded as if they might even have been the same bells from all the way back to the mission days when the priests were called to their daily rounds of rising, eating, work and prayer.  Now, however, they were announcing that their chuck wagon supper of barbecue, slaw, baked potatoes and apple pie were being served.  It was simple ranch-style fare, but in ample amounts and nicely done. Just what Jeff liked most.


Then after supper was finished and had been cleared away, one of the men working in maintenance at The Mission — whom Jeff hadn’t seen before — came out with his guitar, sat on his stool and entertained the guys who were lounging around in and along the side of the pool.  In the meantime, Hank had built a fire of aromatic mesquite wood in the outdoor fireplace between the pool and the gym. 


As the evening light faded into darkness and the stars came out, it seemed as if maybe the clock had been turned back 350 years to when the Mojave Mission was indeed an isolated mission out at the edge of the desert, safe from Indian raids unless, of course, any Indians might even at that moment be scaling the walls to fight the invaders once again.


As Jeff enjoyed the music and the quiet of the evening, he noticed some of the other guys leaving in pairs, while others, who had apparently just come out from town to The Mission Mojave for the evening, looked to be right at home in the place, too.  Not seeing BlackHawk anywhere around, however, Jeff figured he’d probably either gone into town or sacked out after his day’s work.  Around 10pm, Jeff figured he’d make a day of it, too, and returned to his room for the night.



Chapter Three
Jeff Has A Nightmare —And BlackHawk’s Part In It


Jeff wasn’t normally given to nightmares, but this one really set him on edge.  He dreamed he’d first been walking and then found himself running desperately across the wide, open desert such as he’d ridden through on his bike on the way down to The Mission Mojave that afternoon Running faster and faster,  he was being chased by a huge black bird, maybe something like a vulture or prehistoric flying creature, circling high above him in the sky and glaring down at him.  Faster and faster and closer and closer the fearsome bird circled down over him, its dark and menacing eye remaining fixed on Jeff’s own eye. Then it closed in on him in a steep dive until it was almost on top of him.


Desperately Jeff tried to get away from it, but he couldn’t escape it. Then it actually dropped down on top of him and wrapped it’s huge powerful wings softly but firmly around his body to immobilize him.  It’s dark face, gleaming black eyes and shining white teeth were now only a couple of inches from his own.  Jeff could even feel the hot breath of the big bird blow softly against his terror-stricken face.


Jeff desperately tried to push the bird off him to escape it, but it was an agonizing struggle.  Held down by the big bird’s face against his own, its powerful black breast pushed down on top of his muscled chest, he couldn’t escape it. All he could then do was try to bridge out from under the powerful and menacing bird, just as he did when another wrestler might be similarly on top of him holding him down, and make his escape that way.



Then he woke up.  The “big bird” was BlackHawk, who had come in silently, Indian fashion, his lean, naked, and muscular warm body still wet from the shower he’d just taken.  Slowly and quietly BlackHawk had gotten on top of him while he was sleeping on the open bed.  Then he had wrapped his muscled arms around him and pinned him down until his face and warm breath pressed against Jeff’s own face until Jeff would wake up and find him there, lying on top of him.


As soon as Jeff woke up,  he saw BlackHawk’s face only inches from his own, and felt BlackHawk’s powerful, wet and dusky red-colored naked Indian body pressed tightly against his own equally naked body.


Despite the almost total darkness of the bedroom, Jeff could see the grin which crossed BlackHawk’s face. And, as soon as he recovered and realized it was only a nightmare that he’d had, and that it was BlackHawk himself who was lying on top of him, a similar grin came to Jeff’s own face.


BlackHawk had intentionally gotten on top of Jeff softly and easily, keeping his body partially off to the side with only one of his legs pressing down between Jeff’s legs against his crotch while keeping  the other leg outside.  At the same time, BlackHawk wrapped both of his arms around Jeff’s well-muscled body in an easy bear hug, but left Jeff’s arms free for him to fight back as soon as he started to wake up.  In the same move, BlackHawk lowered his face into the sleeping Jeff’s face to blow lightly into it to slowly wake him up.


For a long moment, while Jeff was waking up and getting his bearings again, BlackHawk quietly lay on top of him waiting for him to recover and do whatever he wanted back against him.  Which Jeff soon and easily did.  With his free arm, Jeff reached up and got an easy headlock on BlackHawk drawing his head and face even closer to his own.  Then he grapevined both of his legs around BlackHawk’s big leg which was pressing down into his crotch and against his naked cock and balls.   


As his legs twined around BlackHawk’s leg, he felt BlackHawk’s big rod, already long and firm, press hard against his own now already equally long and hard rod.  With his headlock on BlackHawk, Jeff pulled their faces even closer together until they met, and they lip-locked each other.  Then their tongues met and they began to wrestle it out between them inside each other’s mouth.


Both of them knew it was what they wanted with each other since they first saw each other.  At last, they were going to have a go at it - and make it last as long as they could.  The Mission Mojave gym and wrestling room would be where they’d wrestle it out.


Quietly they wrapped towels around themselves to ward off the cooling Palm Springs desert night air. BlackHawk led Jeff out of the bedroom and across the courtyard over to the gym.  Going out the door, Jeff noticed it was then just five minutes past midnight.  BlackHawk must have come in at exactly midnight;  that was the traditional hour when the Tohawnees made their attacks against the missions and their enemies back in the old days.  Jeff smiled when he realized BlackHawk’s timing.


All of the walk lights in the courtyard were turned off at midnight except those in the bottom of the pool and the Christmas lights in the palm trees.  That left the pool sparkling like a turquoise jewel in the black night.  As they walked past the pool, Jeff noticed two black bodies in the shadows on the surface of the water.  They looked liked two dolphins, swimming together lazily in the pool.  Suddenly both disappeared.  Then, almost as suddenly, they turned up a moment later at the opposite end of the pool.  It appeared two others of The Mission Mojave’s guests were enjoying their quiet late evening, too.  Overhead, only the light of a million stars and a quarter moon provided any light.


Jeff and BlackHawk stepped into the gym and walked quietly into the back mat room.  At first, Jeff could hardly see anything in the room, but he knew BlackHawk, with his Indian eyes, could see every detail in the dim light.  For wrestling, however, it didn’t matter if they could see much in the darkness as wrestlers wrestle more by feel than by sight anyway.  But gradually Jeff’s sight returned as the light from the stars and moon shone in through the barred window of the small room.  It was more than enough for what they wanted to do with each other.


BlackHawk, as they stepped on to the wrestling mat, reached over to a shelf next to the door where they hung their towels and took a bottle of aromatic mesquite Indian wrestling oil off the shelf.  He then began to rub it lightly over Jeff’s muscular body in what seemed an ancient Indian ritual before two Indians would wrestle, sometimes possibly for hours, until they would finally be totally exhausted and unable to continue.


When BlackHawk finished oiling Jeff, Jeff oiled him the same way in return.  As they oiled each other, they braced themselves against each other’s body to keep their balance.  The contact of their muscled bodies pressing against each other’s felt good to both of them.  Then they couldn’t wait any longer.  They were ready to take whatever the other wanted to give him, and give back whatever the other wanted to take until both would finally be completely exhausted and satisfied with however it finally came out.



Chapter Four
Jeff And BlackHawk Begin to Wrestle


BlackHawk knew he’d already had the first advantage over Jeff when he’d gotten into Jeff’s room when he was asleep and caused Jeff’s nightmare until he woke up. He knew Jeff was pleased with his move, but now it was time for Jeff to have the advantage.


BlackHawk also knew that probably he would be just a little more than a match over Jeff in their wrestling each other. Although Jeff and he were about the same size, and Jeff’s powerfully muscular build and liking to wrestle would give Blackhawk a good run for his money,  BlackHawk, with his Indian background, experience and instincts, would be hard for any man to beat on his home ground.


BlackHawk also sensed, as Jeff already knew, that Jeff liked much more to wrestle for the sensual pleasure of the body contact and the give-and-take of messing around with another guy rather than beating him.  BlackHawk felt the same way.  Both liked the erotic feel of being trapped underneath another guy just as much, and maybe even more, than being on top of him.  Both liked the feel of having the other wrestler hold him down and force him to take whatever pain and punishment the top man wanted to give him for as long as he liked just as much as giving it to the bottom man in return.  


Their powerfully muscled bodies were now oiled, naked and glistening in the dim light of The Mission Mojave wrestling room.  BlackHawk dropped to the mat and went to his hands and knees to wait for whatever Jeff wanted to do with him.


It didn’t take Jeff more than a second to drop to his knees next to BlackHawk.  Then he followed that up by dropping his muscled chest across BlackHawk’s back to hold him down.  That first real full body contact felt good to both of them.


Then Jeff, to begin to work BlackHawk over and maybe punish him just a little for having messed up his sleep and giving him his nightmare, reached one arm over his muscled back, pushed it over his butt, and grabbed BlackHawk’s big cock and balls, already long and hard, hanging beneath him toward the mat. Then he began to crush them in his grip while he also tried to pull them back through his legs.  BlackHawk felt Jeff’s tight grip around his cock and balls.  But he was good with that.  He was used to it as a normal move in any Indian “anything goes” wrestling and he liked the threatening feel of it, too.


At the same time, Jeff reached his other arm over BlackHawk’s muscled back to the far side, reached it under BlackHawk’s arm, and grabbed his tightly muscled pec in his other fist.  With that, he then began to crush both his pec in his one fist while he crushed BlackHawk’s cock and balls in his other fist.


Both holds felt real good to both of them.  BlackHawk was used to and liked the punishment Jeff was giving him, while Jeff liked the sensual feel of BlackHawk’s naked and muscled flesh being crushed in his fists.  He knew what BlackHawk was feeling, too, because he liked it just as much when he was being subjected to same punishment by another wrestler in another match.


Still, BlackHawk tried to shift from side to side to escape Jeff’s punishment of him.  But Jeff resisted his moves and tried to push or pull him in the opposite direction from wherever he wanted to go just to increase his punishment on him.


BlackHawk knew he wasn’t about to give in, however, and was prepared to take his punishment as long as Jeff wanted to give it to him.


Eventually, Jeff, knowing he now had  the advantage over BlackHawk and which he knew BlackHawk had given to him, knew it was also up to him to end it soon and move on to something else and see what they might get into next.


Gradually, still holding BlackHawk tight by his cock and balls at one end and his big pec at the other end,  Jeff began to push his body weight against BlackHawk’s back in order to roll him over onto his back, using his holds on his cock and balls and pecs as leverage to roll him over.


BlackHawk resisted as long as he could, but was eventually forced to follow Jeff’s bidding if he didn’t want his cock and balls and pecs torn off or crushed entirely, and rolled over on his back.  However, he also knew that as soon as he was on his back, with Jeff on top of him, that would give him the opening to go on to something else against Jeff in return, too.


BlackHawk found himself on his back on the mat, with the muscular Jeff lying crosswise on top of him, chest against chest.  He liked the feeling of the oiled, naked and muscled body of Jeff lying on top of him.  And Jeff no less liked the feel of the equally naked, muscled and oiled body of the Tohawnee underneath him. 


With Jeff on top of BlackHawk and holding him down with his body weight, he let go of both of his holds on BlackHawk’s pec and cock and balls. Instead, he wrapped one of his strong arms around his neck at one end, while reaching through BlackHawk’s crotch, crushing his cock and balls with his elbow as he did so, to grab his wet and naked butt at the other end.  But that was another hold both wrestlers liked the feel of, give-or-take, and neither was in any rush to break it.


It also gave BlackHawk a chance to get back at Jeff, despite the punishment Jeff was giving him, and maybe return some of it back to Jeff.


Pinned under Jeff’s muscled body, with his head caught in Jeff’s headlock and his cock and balls being crushed by Jeff’s elbow, BlackHawk nevertheless began to stretch out one of his arms underneath Jeff’s body, lying sideways on top of him, and soon managed to grab Jeff’s own naked and exposed cock and balls.  Then he began to crush them in his fist as well as begin to pull them away off Jeff’s body just as Jeff had just been working him over.


Jeff felt BlackHawk’s strong arm and hand coming underneath him, and knew what he intended to do.  But with his own holds on BlackHawk’s neck and butt, there was nothing he could do to resist his move against him.  But he also knew he liked the feel of what BlackHawk was doing and planning to do with him, so Jeff didn’t make any move to prevent him for doing what he intended to do.


At the same time as BlackHawk was going for Jeffs cock and balls, he also reached with his other hand up around Jeff’s neck and got him in a solid headlock, just like the one Jeff was still holding on him.  Jeff didn’t have any problem with BlackHawk’s headlock now on him either, nor the crushing hold he had on his cock and balls either.


Instead, it was a real good deadlock for both of them, and they’d see one which could give-or-take it the longest.  For a long time they remained deadlocked together, their muscled, naked and oiled bodies almost motionless and straining against the other while their most vital parts were be crushed in the grip of the other’s fist in the quiet darkness of The Mission Mojave wrestling room.


Then BlackHawk figured he would try to reverse their positions and get on top of Jeff, which Jeff expected he’d soon figure on doing.  Jeff liked the idea of being body-pressed by the strong, lithe and muscular Tohawnee Indian, and waited to see just what he had in mind for him.  When BlackHawk therefore stretched out his leg to gain the leverage he needed to roll both of them over, Jeff only mildly resisted, mainly just to give him a hard time and make him work for what he wanted.  Suddenly BlackHawk flipped them both over and their positions were reversed.  Neither had any problem with that.


That move, in fact, began to lay out the pattern for just about their whole long match.  Both liked to be underneath the other, trapped and punished by the other man as much as being on top of him, and so it was something they both came back to over and over again.  


Another pattern which both soon fell into, because it was a favorite of both, was that whenever one of them got a good or special hold on the other, or was inflicting some particular punishment on him, and then when eventually the man with the hold figured he’d held it long enough and let the other one go, it wasn’t long before they soon reversed the holds, and their punishment of each other was also reversed.  Most wrestlers knew that frequently the holds they most like to take on another wrestler are the same ones they like taken on themselves.  Jeff and BlackHawk were no exceptions.  


There were, therefore, a lot of holds, predicaments and deadlocks, give-and-take, which both Jeff and BlackHawk liked to get into, both for the pleasure of getting the hold on the other, or being subjected to it himself, both for long periods of time, as they wrestled, naked and oiled, with each other in the darkness of the old penance and ammunition storage room.


They moved from one hold to another, give-and-take, and soon it was more than half an hour since they’d started wrestling each other.  Their muscular nude and oiled bodies had already become aroused and throbbed with the workout and pain and punishment they’d already enjoyed giving and taking from each other, and soon they found out what the other liked most, or maybe not as much, and how far and long they could go with the other.


Both knew they wanted to make the match last as long as possible.  They knew they therefore needed to pace themselves and took a break every now and then to regain their breath.  Generally this happened whenever they found themselves locked motionlessly in one deadlocked hold or another, and before they would break off their deadlock and go on to see what each might come up with next.


After their previous hold, and when BlackHawk had succeeded in getting on top of Jeff, he then managed also to twist around on top of Jeff until he was head-to-toe on Jeff.  Then, before Jeff could react, he got Jeff in a full-figure-four head scissors underneath him, wrapping his powerful legs and thighs around Jeff’s head and pressing his thick and hard cock and balls tightly against Jeff’s face, not only to hold him in place, but to smother him in the hold as well.


Jeff wasn’t surprised at BlackHawk’s move on him, and liked having his big cock and balls pressing down hard against his face.  BlackHawk’s big, long and hard cock was jammed down hard diagonally, and the hot wetness of his crotch cut off just about all his air, sight and sound as he was almost smothered in the hold.


He liked all of it, however, and was ready to submit to it just as long as BlackHawk felt like keeping him trapped in it.  He remembered the old Indian’s story of the Tohawnee warriors doing the same thing hundreds of years before in similar circumstances. 


The same thing applied when they forced their long and hard rods and balls against their foe’s face to smother him in a head scissors, too, just as BlackHawk was doing to him at that moment.  Both liked to get the other in a suffocating head or body scissors as often as they could.  Neither ever had any problem with it, give-or-take.  


Another time, BlackHawk was standing up on the mat with Jeff crouched in front of him.  Jeff then shoved his head between BlackHawk’s muscled legs and lifted him up by the back of his neck positioned against his naked cock and balls to slide him over his back to the mat in all their oiled slipperiness. 


Before BlackHawk could then regain his balance after Jeff slid him off his back,  Jeff followed up and got BlackHawk in a tight head scissors under him, wrapping his big body builder’s thick legs around his head to keep him in place just as BlackHawk had done to him earlier.  Desperately, BlackHawk tried to flip or bridge-out time after time, but Jeff wouldn’t let him go.


But BlackHawk knew he had another remedy to that problem from another old Tohawnee practice as he twisted his head to face it into Jeff’s hot, wet and exposed crotch and big cock and bulging balls which were suffocating him.  To distract Jeff’s attention from his real next move, he blindly reached his arms up to seize both of Jeff’s big and muscled butt cheeks in his fists and began to pull Jeff’s butt down even more tightly against his face.


BlackHawk then went on to his real objective in the moves. That was, when  BlackHawk felt Jeff’s long and hard cock pressed tightly against his face, he also found with his tongue both of Jeff’s big and bulging balls pressing close against his mouth.  Then, needing to shift his head only slightly, he sucked both of Jeff’s big, thick balls deep into his mouth and then held them there.  


Suddenly Jeff realized his new predicament and that he was now at BlackHawk’s mercy until he decided to let him and his balls go.  Jeff recalled what the old Indian had said about that maneuver in Tohawnee battles of the past, about a Tohawnee warrior sucking his enemy’s balls in his mouth and chewing them off the other’s body.  Jeff could only hope BlackHawk wouldn’t do the same.


Fortunately, Jeff also knew about that particular move and hold, having had it taken on him before, and having sucked in the full and bulging balls of other guys he was wrestling with and he was caught the same way.  He liked it both ways, and so far it always seemed to work out ok although it might take a while until it ended.  So he figured as long as BlackHawk wanted to keep it, it was ok with him.


And then it wasn’t long, as usual, until the situation was reversed and BlackHawk got a similar head scissors on him, with the same moves and results, and then Jeff liked the feel and taste of BlackHawk’s big, thick and dark balls in his own mouth, too, for just as long.  It was another good Tohawnee warrior’s hold they both knew and liked.


Another time, for another Tohawnee move on an opponent, was when BlackHawk was on his back momentarily.  Jeff then quickly got on him and straddled his muscled chest to hold him down, facing BlackHawk’s feet.  But instead of possibly going to a full body press on him and trying to get him in another tight head scissors, Jeff moved his body back just a little. 


Then he followed that up and sat up so that he was then able to sit fully on BlackHawk’s face.  Slowly he felt the Indian’s whole nose, eyes and mouth sink deep down into the dark canyon of his naked and oiled butt.  At the same time BlackHawk felt the same thing as his whole face, eyes, nose and mouth began to be buried deep inside the muscled cheeks of Jeff’s butt to smother and suffocate there until Jeff would let him go or he could escape.


Knowing that was just another favorite hold of the Tohawnee Indians, he expected BlackHawk would be very familiar with it, which he was.  And, later, when BlackHawk reversed the situation and sat just as fully on Jeff’s face, with Jeff feeling his own face, nose, eyes and mouth being buried deep in the dark canyon of BlackHawk’s equally dark, wet and naked butt, he was neither surprised nor had any problem with it either way.  As long as BlackHawk wanted to keep him in it, it was ok with him.


Sometimes, when Jeff caught BlackHawk’s head in a tight head scissors, and when his head was facing into Jeff’s hot, wet and naked crotch, Jeff would then reach out his powerfully muscled arms to grab the back of  the Tohawnee Indian’s head and pull him in even further into his crotch against his cock and balls to suffocate BlackHawk even more.


But whenever he did, BlackHawk took it and got back at Jeff by blindly reaching out both of his own powerfully strong hands over his head and up to Jeff’s chest where he could seize one of Jeff’s big body builder pecs in each fist.  Then, with Jeff’s big bodybuilder pecs bunched up even more as he pulled BlackHawk’s head in against his cock and balls, the Indian squeezed and crushed Jeff’s thick pecs in his fists, just as Jeff dreamed he had done in his earlier nightmare. Soon, Jeff’s muscled flesh was almost squeezed out between the Indian’s fingers, just as another Tohawnee warrior would have done three centuries before.


Jeff had no problem at all with it and was willing to take BlackHawk’s punishment to his pecs just as long and as much as BlackHawk liked to give it to him.  Later, when their holds were reversed, both liked it the other way around just as much.


Both Jeff and BlackHawk also liked getting each other in a full body scissors from the rear, when one would get in a position to sit behind the other and wrap his powerful legs around the other’s lower body to hold him in place.  Then he would cross his ankles right over the other’s crotch and smash his heels over and over again into the other’s naked and bulging cock and balls to punish him as hard as he could. 


At the same time, he would reach his muscular arms around the other’s chest and again grab one of his pecs in each of his fists to squeeze them tight to further hold him in place.  Both Jeff and BlackHawk liked that double punishment to them, give-or-take, and neither ever had any problem with it all.


Just as in the old Tohawnee days, and even today as well, many wrestlers like to take as much punishment as they can stand just for the pleasure of the punishment.  Jeff and BlackHawk were no exceptions.


When caught by the other in a body scissors from the rear, it still meant they could get back at the other, too.  While the behind man was able to smash his heels into the other’s cock and balls, his own naked cock and balls were exposed directly under the other’s muscled butt.  So every time whichever man was behind and smashing his heels into the other’s crotch, the front man would rise up slightly and then bring his muscled butt down on the other man’s own exposed cock and balls to crush them in return.


Both Jeff and BlackHawk liked that predicament too every time they got into it.  Neither ever got enough.


Then there were the times when BlackHawk might be on top of Jeff in a full body press, head-to-head, holding Jeff down underneath him, which was a position Jeff very much liked, as BlackHawk knew he did, with their heads and faces only inches apart.


At first, when BlackHawk was higher over Jeff, he might stretch out his arms, and then first he might cover Jeff’s face with one of his big hands, open palmed, so as to blind and distract him.  Or he might take both of his strong hands and wrap them around Jeff’s throat as if to strangle him.  Or he would drop his face down even closer to Jeff’s until their faces met, then they lip-locked, and then only their tongues were left to wrestle it out deep inside each other’s mouth.


Instead of trying to blind, strangle and liplock him, BlackHawk might also have moved his body up Jeff’s a few inches beyond Jeff’s head until he was able to position his big and muscular pec directly over Jeff’s mouth.  Then he could follow that up by dropping his chest down on top of Jeff’s own muscular chest and stuff his pec deep inside Jeff’s mouth to choke and suffocate him on it. 


Jeff would then find himself with his tongue wrapping itself around BlackHawk’s tight nipple until BlackHawk might finally release.  But neither was ever in any great hurry to make that happen. Nor were they at other times when their situations were reversed and it was BlackHawk who had his mouth full with Jeff’s big bodybuilder’s pec in it and his tongue played around with Jeff’s tight nipple in his mouth, too. 


Jeff was not without return punishment on BlackHawk, however.  As the Indian came down closer and closer on top of him, his own big, thick and muscular pecs were more and more open and exposed to Jeff.  Then Jeff would take advantage of that situation by reaching up and again grabbing one of BlackHawk’s own big pecs in each of his fists until he almost caused his muscled flesh to be squeezed out between his fingers in return.


And, when they reversed their holds and situations on each other, as they did repeatedly, neither ever had any problem with it the other way around either.  It was a favorite hold of both, and both came back to it over and over again during the course of their long match with each other.


At other times, when their faces might be only an inch or two apart, they each might try to chew the other’s ear or bite his nose to increase the pressure on him.  Both knew those were old Tohawnee moves to further beat, distract and destroy their enemies, although at the moment, both hoped the other wouldn’t take it quite that far.  In any event, they liked the sensual and erotic pleasure they got from the moves, too.


Jeff remembered that the old Indian had said that all of the moves were traditional with Tohawnee warriors so he was not concerned about them, but liked the pressure and torture he was being subjected to.  And later on, over and over again, when their situations were reversed, both liked it just as much.


Meanwhile, as Jeff and BlackHawk wrestled in the small penance and ammunition room of the Mojave Mission, outside, the courtyard of The Mission Mojave was quiet and almost deserted.  Two of the other guests were asleep together in a large two-man hammock, locked in each other’s embrace.  A small light filtered through a couple of the drawn blinds of some of the rooms, while the other guest room windows were dark.


A zephyr of a breeze rippled the surface of the turquoise waters of the swimming pool while a couple of crickets sang an off-key duet under the low cactus plants bordering the walk.  Overhead, a million stars glittered down through the crystal clear night air over Palm Springs, while the year-round snow on the peaks of the San Jacinto mountains to the west reflected the moon glow with their soft night light.


Inside, the long sensual and erotic wrestling match between Jeff and BlackHawk continued as both wrestlers, their oiled, naked and muscular bodies in one deadlocked hold after another, continued very much to the pleasure of both. 



Chapter Five
Jeff And BlackHawk’s Favorite Holds On Each Other


More and more, among the favorite holds Jeff and BlackHawk came back to over and over again were their scissors holds on each other.  Sometimes it would be a body scissors from the rear when they could smash their heels into the other’s crotch and cock and balls.  Other times it might be a head scissors from the side which forced the other to try to flip or bridge out and escape.  At still other times it might be a head scissors in which they would catch the other’s head between their powerful thighs and force the other’s head into their hot and wet crotch against their bulging cock and balls to choke and suffocate him that way.


But a full body press and getting a single, or even better, a double-figure-four head scissors on the other were among the favorite holds they liked to get into most of all.  Earlier in their long match, each tried to position himself only so that he could press his big, long and hard rod and thick balls tight against the other’s face to blind and suffocate him in the hold.


But more and more frequently, whenever either caught the other in a solid figure-four head scissors, and when he knew the other would be forced to open his mouth and gasp for air, he would shift his body slightly so that his big, long and hard cock end would be positioned directly over the other’s mouth.  Then he would raise his body just a little and, before the other could react, he would stab his big rod deep into the other’s open and waiting mouth to choke him on it as well as suffocate him.


Jeff was never surprised at BlackHawk’s move when he did it, nor was BlackHawk ever surprised when Jeff did the same to him.  In fact, neither ever had any problem with any of it at all.  It was a move both always liked, give-or-take, and both were used to it and always ready for more.  


Nor did either have any problem with however long they were caught and trapped in their predicament, even though it meant their heads were impaled to the mat by having the other’s big cock plunged deep down into his throat and he was forced to choke on it until he could make his escape or the other freed him from it.


But then, sometimes, for both, their predicament, as far as escaping it, got even worse.  Even though if Jeff were trapped and had BlackHawk’s big cock rammed down his throat, which had the effect of pinning his head to the mat, Jeff knew he still had his powerfully muscled lower body and legs free to hopefully bridge or flip his way out of his predicament.


The first couple of times he tried to bridge and flip out he caught BlackHawk by surprise and almost succeeded in escaping the Indian’s punishment of him.  But then BlackHawk came back, and as soon as Jeff tried to bridge out  again, with Jeff’s own big cock sticking hard and straight up right in his face, BlackHawk worsened Jeff’s predicament by grabbing Jeff’s big cock in his fist and began to push it back down between Jeff’s big thighs to the mat below him, almost breaking it off Jeff’s muscled body. 


It was still more agony for Jeff, who was trapped and hurting at both ends.  He loved the punishment the Tohawnee Indian was subjecting him to.


It was probably the same punishment and torture BlackHawk’s ancestors had taken on the ancient Spanish missionaries and soldiers, and Jeff wondered if they liked it just as much.  He knew he did.


All Jeff could do was reach his arms up around BlackHawk’s naked and muscled butt, directly over his head, and try to squeeze the solid muscular flesh of his butt in his fists to force him to let him go.  BlackHawk felt his butt cheeks being crushed in Jeff’s tight squeezing of them, but he was willing to take that punishment while he kept his head scissors on Jeff’s head, with his big hard cock stabbed deep down into Jeff’s mouth and throat, and trying to push Jeff’s big long and hard rod down to the mat between Jeff’s big and thick bodybuilder’s legs.


Jeff liked every minute BlackHawk was working his punishment on him and was willing to take it as long as BlackHawk wanted to give it to him.


BlackHawk knew what he was doing, however, and while he knew Jeff liked the punishment he was being subjected to, BlackHawk also sensed when he’d held it long enough.  In another moment he therefore began to relax his punishment on Jeff.  Slowly he withdrew his big rod out of Jeff’s mouth and then let go of Jeff’s still hard cock in his fist so Jeff could once more breathe more easily and begin to move around under him.


That was all Jeff needed, as he’d also been faking his agony just a little because he liked what BlackHawk was doing to him and wanted to make it last as long as possible.


As BlackHawk released his holds on him and before he could move off Jeff entirely, which he had planned to do, Jeff beat him to it.  Suddenly, as soon as he was free of BlackHawk’s taut, naked, oiled and muscled Indian body on top of him, the just as powerfully built Jeff rolled both of them over and exactly reversed their holds on each other.


Then it was Jeff who got BlackHawk in the same tight figure-four head scissors underneath him, jamming his own long and hard rod deep down into the Tohawnee’s open mouth and throat, blinding, choking and smothering him in the hot wetness of his crotch, and impaling his head to the mat underneath them. 


And then, while he held his head pinned to the mat and BlackHawk tried to bridge and flip out of that punishment, Jeff grabbed BlackHawk’s equally big, long and hard cock stick straight up in his face and started to force it down to the mat between his powerfully muscled legs, almost breaking it off the Indian’s muscled body as he did.


BlackHawk was no more surprised at Jeff’s fast reversal move than Jeff was earlier when BlackHawk took the same moves against him. And BlackHawk liked to take the same punishment just as much as Jeff had earlier. Their new and reversed deadlocks lasted just as long and just as painfully for him as his had been on Jeff earlier.  It felt real good, sensual and erotic to both of them, either way.


It was just one of the many deadlocks and punishing holds they took on and from each other during all of their long match.  They always liked getting into and out of all of them, either way, give-or-take.  Jeff and BlackHawk’s long wrestling match was well into its second hour, with neither yet getting enough of it.   


Jeff and BlackHawk’s wrestling match in the quiet darkness of the old mission penance and ammunition storage room continued for almost another full hour as they quietly fought and wrestled back and forth with each other.  Each liked the feel of the other’s powerfully muscular, naked and oiled body pressed and rippling against his own.  Both of their bodies were wet with sweat as well as oil as they got into and remained in one punishing deadlocked hold after another.


Jeff particularly liked the feel of BlackHawk’s powerful and naked Indian body fighting against his own as it worked him over in what he knew were many of the old Tohawnee fight moves, tempered only a little so as not to be deadly.  BlackHawk liked just as much to wrestle and fight Jeff as his ancestors had fought to the death with the Spanish invaders.  Except that neither Jeff nor the Tohawnee intended to go quite as far as their ancestors had.


BlackHawk knew a great many more of the Tohawnee ritual fighting and wrestling holds and punishments than Jeff did, and he was also the more experienced in them as well.  As a result, his general pattern through all of their long wrestling match continued to be more or less to let Jeff set the pace and take the holds first, and then BlackHawk would return them after he found Jeff knew and liked to get into them too.  It also kept Jeff from being too overwhelmed by him, strong and powerful as he was, and run the risk of possibly ending their match too soon.



Chapter Six
Jeff and BlackHawk Come To The End Of Their Long Match


Their many holds on each other continued as each liked to explore all the different things and pleasures they could get into.  Sometimes when Jeff was on top of BlackHawk face-to-face, their naked, wet and muscled bodies were frequently pressed tightly together their faces, too, were soon pressed just as tightly together so that they would even breathe the same air, as each felt and tasted the other’s muscled body tight and deep against his own.


More than any other hold during their long wrestling match in the darkened penance and ammunition storage wrestling room of the modernized Mojave Mission that night, however, was the one they came back to over and over again in one form or another during all their long match.  It was the ultimate favorite of both wrestlers.


It was when they got into a full, tight and smothering double-figure-four head scissors with the other and, increasingly, when they also managed to stab their big, long hard wet and naked cocks deep down into each other’s mouth and throat to choke him on it as well.  Each time they got into the deadlock, they seemed to hold it longer and longer, with neither ever willing to be the first to give it up.


But that meant that their powerfully muscled bodies, hot, naked, oiled and wet, also became increasingly aroused and stimulated.


And with that increasing stimulation and arousal came their awareness that all of the hot white sweet cum which had been developing deeply inside their bodies was building up more and more all the time.  As they’d wrestled for more than two full hours, their bodies were filled with their hot cum almost to bursting, and it was beginning to surge closer and closer to the surface.  Soon, they knew, all of that hot sweet cum-cream in their bodies would demand to be released and burst out of their bodies whether they were ready for it to come or not.


It wasn’t long before they had finally come to reach the final point and the only question in each wrestler’s mind was how he could best shoot his cumload out onto or into the other to finally overcome him.


Once more, they were again locked tightly in a double-figure-four head scissors hold on the other.  Each was again blinded and suffocating with his head caught between the other’s powerful thighs, his face buried and blinded deep into the other’s steaming hot wet crotch, and choking with the other’s big, long and hard cock stabbed deep down into his mouth and throat.


Deadlocked, they rolled back and forth over the mat to see which might end up on top.  Then they rolled hard into and against the adobe wall of the small former penance and ammunition room and could roll no farther. 


As it happened, BlackHawk ended up on top of Jeff as they still remained locked together.


Ending up on the bottom, Jeff knew what it would mean with both of them about to come.  Desperately he tried to bridge out and escape BlackHawk one final time.  Trapped under him, he knew he had only seconds before he would be forced to shoot his load if  he couldn’t escape.  At the same time, he knew he liked where he was and didn’t try too hard to escape either.


BlackHawk knew he was just as ready to come as Jeff, and tried desperately to keep the powerfully built and muscular body builder, Jeff, under him by continuing to keep his big rod jammed deep down into Jeff’s mouth, in effect pinning him to the mat with it, as they struggled with each other.  It took all of BlackHawk’s powerful Tohawnee Indian heritage to keep his hold on top of the muscular Jeff.  But it was just enough.


In the final couple of seconds, Jeff gave one final spasm to bridge out — but failed — from under BlackHawk’s powerful Indian body, and with the Tohawnee Indian’s big and hard rod still plunged deep down in his throat.


Then suddenly Jeff felt and tasted all the hot, rich cum which had been so long accumulating in BlackHawk’s body suddenly rush to the surface and burst out the end of his big cock and flood deep into his waiting mouth.


BlackHawk, however — still caught in Jeff’s own powerful head scissors on him, which he had never let go — still had Jeff’s long and hard cock stabbed down his own throat.  In the same instant, he just as quickly felt and tasted the full burst of Jeff’s warm rich cum as it burst out and flooded and pulsed into his mouth.  He took in all he could until his mouth was full, and then had to let the rest of it overflow onto the mat below them.


For what seemed like long minutes, the flood of each wrestler’s rich creamy cum surged and pulsed out of his own cock deep into the other’s mouth and throat.  After their long battle with each other, neither could get enough.


It was only when the flow of their hot cum into each other’s mouth slowed and then finally stopped that they loosened their holds on each other and both collapsed into the other’s body.  Both were completely exhausted and drained.


Their long Tohawnee Indian wrestling match had come to an end.  Neither said anything, but each felt a grin cover his own face and saw it on the face of the other as well.  It had been real good and they knew they were completely satisfied with it.  Slowly they got up to their feet and walked to the showers in the adjoining gym.


As they came out from their showers a few minutes later, cleaned up, recovered and refreshed, they walked out through the gym into the cool and quiet outdoor courtyard. The stately old palm trees festooned with hundreds of small and glittering Christmas lights towered overhead while the millions of stars in the sky above them looked like falling snow over the dark and quiet desert lands surrounding them.


Only the splashing of the fountain was to be heard in the background as BlackHawk said softly to Jeff, “You are my Tohawnee brother!”


“And you are my Tohawnee brother too, BlackHawk!” was Jeff’s reply.  Both could see the grin on the other’s face.  It sure had been good.



Chapter Seven
Christmas Morning


Jeff got up early.  It was Christmas morning, and The Mission Mojave Resort was as quiet as it must have been 350 years ago when the monks were asleep or at prayer.  He put on his camouflage pants and muscle t-shirt and went in to the dining room.  Hank had already put out all kinds of great breads, muffins, cereals and fruits, and the refrigerator was filled with all kinds of milk and juices.  Each guest could help himself to whatever he wanted whenever he wanted it.


Jeff’s plan for the day was to ride his motorcycle down through Cathedral City, Rancho Mirage, Palm Desert and Indio to see the beautiful architecturally designed buildings, gardens and Christmas decorations along Palm Canyon Drive. Then, in the afternoon, after it warmed up, he planned to ride the Aerial Tramway up to the top of the San Jacinto State Park to see the view of Palm Springs and the whole desert valley from up there.


And then, that night, maybe wrestle with BlackHawk again?


Jeff didn’t see BlackHawk when he was back at The Mission Mojave late in the day or at dinner time, and didn’t know if maybe he had the day off to visit his grandmother, who he knew lived not far away.  Jeff went to bed, alone again, around 10pm.  He knew he’d had a good day, but he still wondered if maybe —just perhaps — BlackHawk would come back for another nocturnal visit?


Then, again, it was exactly midnight when BlackHawk stole into his room the second time, just as he had the first time.


Their second match that second night lasted even longer, and was even better — if that were possible — than their first match the night before.  It ended just about the same way it had the first night — Christmas Eve — except on Christmas NIGHT, it was Jeff who ended up on top of BlackHawk.  They knew they liked it both ways.


As Jeff rode his motorcycle back to San Francisco the following afternoon, he said to himself, with a very wide grin on his face, “Santa Claus sure has been good to me this weekend!”  He also knew he would come back to The Mission Mojave as soon again as he could.  BlackHawk looked forward to it, too, just as much as Jeff.


The End.

Posted: 12/16/11