Pete Parsons at Pirate's Key
By: Ron Nelson
(© 2015 by the author)
The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's
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Pete Parsons rode his dark burgundy and chrome Honda Shadow 1100 motorcycle north on the Ocean Hiway from Key West, Florida, about twenty-five miles up to Pirate’s Key. It was around four on a Saturday afternoon, and he was looking forward to exploring the key, taking a swim off the dock, and lounging around until dusk, when he’d ride back to Key West.
His buddy, Jose Guitterrez, was to have been with him, but at the last minute he had to visit his sister who had a plumbing problem she needed for him to fix urgently.
Pete and Jose worked for Key Construction Co. of Marathon, further north on the Keys, on a job they were doing on the Naval Base on Key West. Pete and Jose both had bikes, Jose’s being a Ninja, and both liked to explore the keys together on their weekends.
A couple of weeks ago Jose suggested they ride up to Pirate’s Key for an afternoon and evening, look around and explore the key, take a swim, and maybe wrestle and grapple around in the grass next to the inlet where it was soft, and have themselves a real good, and private, time.
Pete was about five-nine and one-seventy, and Jose about five seven and the same weight, with both about twenty-three. Both had real good builds, and were in great muscular shape from their construction work. Both also liked to wrestle in just bikini trunks or even nude. Sometimes that was in Pete’s or Jose’s room when they were alone, or maybe out on a secluded beach which they knew about on a small nearby key.
Every time they wrestled around with each other, it never failed to get them sexually aroused, which then got them into some heavy cockfighting with each other until both of them got such big hard-ons and sexed up that they’d soon end up shooting their big loads of hot creamy cum juice into each other’s face or mouth.
Yeah, that always seemed real natural and was always a real good ending, give or take.
Then they’d always recover pretty quickly, however, and get into it again, ending up shooting their loads maybe two or three times in an afternoon or a night until they’d have to quit for good for that time.
Pirate’s Key was one of the larger of the Keys, a chain of islands that stretched down from the mainland of Florida southwest so far that Key West, the last town at the end of the chain, was closer to Havana, Cuba, than it was to Miami.
It was one of the larger keys, but less known than many of the others. It was shaped like the letter “C” with a three-quarter circle of scrub trees and bush land and a narrow but deep inlet which led into a secluded but deep lagoon in the center of the key.
It was said that in the 1600’s, when pirates roamed the Caribbean and southern Atlantic, pirates would hide in the lagoon until they spotted a sailing ship carrying cargo and maybe gold between Central America and Spain.
Then they would emerge from their hiding place, raid and capture the ship, remove the valuables, kill the ship’s sailors and passengers if they resisted, and then disappear back to their secret lair.
Eventually the pirates were gone, but it was said they may have buried some of their treasure on the key, but nothing was ever found. At present, it was said the entire key was owned by a Cuban businessman, living in Miami, who kept the key as a private hunting and fishing preserve for himself and his friends.
As Pete rode up the Ocean Hiway, he saw the unmarked entrance road to the center of the key. It was spotted only by an old fallen down fishing sign on the opposite side of the road.
Pete didn’t know exactly what to expect inside Pirate’s Key, but turned in on to the crushed coral road until it turned, after a hundred yards, and ran out of sight of the highway. There he saw two old and weathered concrete posts on either side of the narrow road, which was hemmed in by underbrush and swamp water. An old rusted iron chain hung down between the two posts to bar the road from going in any farther.
Spotting a small level patch of ground next to the left post, he rode his bike slowly to the spot, checked to be sure the ground was solid, and put down his kick stand, which cut the engine.
Suddenly, everything went completely silent, with only a few gulls circling over head, and the sun beginning to go down in the west over the scrub trees and shrubs. It felt good to be alone and quiet, and he looked forward to going the rest of the way into to the center of the key by foot, which Jose had described to him, and explore what was there.
He took his bike chain and combo lock out of his saddle bag and chained the bike’s wheel to the post. While it should be safe enough, with no one around and not visible from the road, he liked to chain his bike in place anyway.
After he did that, he looked around again and still saw nothing but the old concrete posts and rusted chain and the scrub around him, and began to walk down the narrow drive farther into the key.
He did notice the old rusted sign hanging from the center of the chain which said “Posted - No Trespassing.” Unfortunately, he didn’t notice the industrial-size dull black, but almost new, padlock connecting the old chain to the old post at the other end of the chain.
As Pete walked down the old and narrow road, the surroundings grew even more quiet, with now even the gulls having flown off and no signs of any other wildlife.
After walking in another couple of hundred yards, however, the silence was suddenly broken by a voice behind him. It was a man’s voice but slightly higher, as if it might have come from a younger man.
“Ok, amigo,” the voice said, “stop right there and put your hands in the air.” The voice didn’t sound very threatening, but it was clear enough to be understood.
For an instant, Pete, totally surprised, didn’t move. But then the voice repeated what it just said. This time it registered in Pete’s mind and, not able to think of anything else, he did what it told him to do.
“Ok amigo, now turn around slowly, but stay where you are.”
When Pete turned around, he saw two young men, maybe only twenty and eighteen years old, slender and looking almost as surprised as he.
Thinking quickly, Pete figured he could probably take both of them on at the same time, flatten first one and then the other, and get back to his bike and away without too much trouble.
Except that the older of the two was holding a fairly new and shiny .22 rifle, which put the odds too much in their favor. The older of the two was holding it easily, but firmly, as if he were used to working with a .22, and, at that range, Pete knew he’d be gone before he took three steps toward them.
“You no see the ‘No Trespassing’ sign, amigo?” the man asked in a local Spanish accent. “That too bad.” His voice had a combination of bravado and uncertainty, which registered with Pete, but suggested to him that he’d better cooperate with them for the present and then see where it led to.
“Luis, you call Ramon and tell him we have a visitor, and what he want us to do with him?”
“Ok, Rico,” was Luis’ response as he pulled out his cell phone and pressed a couple of keys.
“Si, si, un hombre, no, no problema, ok, si Ramon” was all that Pete could get of the conversation.
“Ramon say bring him in to camp and Ramon decide what to do then,” said Luis to Rico.
“Ok, you hear Luis, man, you come with us and we go see Ramon.”
“What you name, man?” asked Rico, a small smile coming up on his face now that the tenseness of first seeing Pete, then finding Pete seeming to be cooperative, and Ramon now making the decisions for all of them.
“Pete,” he replied, “and you guys must be Rico and Luis. Pleased to meet you!”
“Muy bien, Pete. Now how about we all go to camp and see Ramon. Luis, you walk first, in front, Pete, you walk about twenty feet behind Luis so you no jump him, I come last.”
That seemed reasonable to Pete and a moment later all three found themselves walking quietly, spaced apart from each other with Pete in the middle, down the narrow coral driveway leading further and further from the main highway and deeper and deeper into the center of the key.
After a final turn in the driveway, Pete saw it open up into a rough scrub field or compound, with what looked like an old weathered fish camp, with a wide covered porch extending around three sides of the house. On the far side of the field was a long shed with a row of open bays which held three worn and somewhat beat-up utility vans, two white and one dark green, and a shed at the end with locked doors.
Between the two buildings Pete could see the dark, almost black, waters of the lagoon, circled on three sides by the scrub trees and shrubs which blocked any view of it from three sides, and the fourth side open, through a narrow inlet, to the Atlantic beyond.
As they came into the clearing, everything was silent and dead, with the shadows of the trees just beginning to darken with the dusk.
As they approached the house, a man came out of the door, crossed the porch and came down the rough wooden steps to meet them.
Although he didn’t know what was going to happen next, Pete knew, as soon as he saw the man, he liked what he saw - he sure was one real good looking hunky dude.
This must be Ramon. He looked to be about thirty, maybe about five-nine and probably close to one-ninety. He had the powerful physique of a body-builder, with big biceps, big and solid pecs, tight abs, and thick legs and thighs like an oak tree.
His black curly hair, which lay close to his skull, contrasted with his deeply tanned well defined and muscular body, and the easy grin on his face completed the picture.
He was wearing only a tight white sleeveless muscle shirt and a pair of black tight shorts which barely held in his muscular legs and thighs
‘Man,’ thought Pete, ’now there’s a guy I’d really like to rassle around with! Just so long as he didn’t beat me to a pulp before I could really enjoy it, of course!’
As Ramon and Pete’s group approached each other, Pete saw a broad smile cross Ramon’s face and the cigar which protruded out of his mouth. As they came closer, Pete noticed the fine aroma of the cigar.
Pete’s favorite uncle always smoked fine Havana cigars, and he always associated the smell with full meals and good times. He instinctively hoped it might be the same with Ramon.
After a few words in Spanish between Ramon, Rico and Luis, Ramon turned to Pete, with a smile on his face, and said “Buenos dias, Pedro, and welcome to our modest little hacienda!”
“Nice to be here, Ramon, except I’m not sure I had much choice in the matter,” was Pete’s tentative reply, with half a grin on his face, not knowing what lay ahead.
“However,” continued Ramon, “I think you have caught us at a rather inconvenient time,” the grin not leaving his face, “and so we must ask you to be our guest for the next twenty-four hours while we have some work to do. After that, we will see.”
Pete didn’t know what to make of that, but figured he had no choice in the matter as they were now three-to-one, and Rico still carried the .22. Pete did take the opportunity to just take a quick look around the compound, but still noticed only the main features of the hacienda, garages and lagoon, and maybe a couple more vans behind the garage.
“Ok, Pedro,” for he preferred to call Pete by the Spanish version of his name, said Ramon, “We have work to do so Rico, Luis and I will have to leave you to yourself for a while.
“Rico, show Pedro to the room at the end of the back hallway, and be sure the door is locked so he no get out.”
Pete couldn’t help but take another couple of looks at Ramon and his big muscular body-builder’s build and think even more how he’d sure like to rassle around with that big and very hunky Ramon if he could ever get the chance.
He didn’t know Ramon was looking at him, and thinking much the same thing - to get into it with this muscular young construction worker, who obviously was checking him out in return as well.
Before Rico and Pete left to go into the house, Ramon said “You have a very good build, Pedro,” a grin showing out his clear white teeth which held the cigar between them.
“You look like tough guy who maybe like to wrestle around, lucha libre style, with other guys?” he said.
“Oh yeah, man, particularly if it’s with a hunk like you! Of course, I wouldn’t want to hurt you, but whatever happens, happens! I’m good with whatever you’d like!” was Pete’s equally grinning and prompt reply.
“Well, who know? Maybe some time, later, we see about that” said Ramon as he then turned his attention back to Rico and Luis with a couple more words with them.
“ You have supper yet Pedro?” then asked Ramon.
“No, but I sure could use something to eat - particularly if it means some meat down my throat!” was Pete’s prompt reply. To which he added on the spur of the moment, “either now or later, or both!” Ramon grinned but said nothing more to that. He understood what Pete was saying.
Coming back to his present situation, Pete thought ‘I sure can’t figure this out. But if I’m going to be locked up in some room for a while, and they’re going to give me supper, and who knows what this little exchange with Ramon might lead to. Anyway, it doesn’t look to be too bad - at least so far.’
“Ok, Pete,” said Rico. “You go up steps into hacienda, and walk slowly and no fast moves.”
Once inside, Rico saw the big living room of the old hacienda fish camp, and its old and worn but comfortable furnishings. A fireplace was at one end, with three or four big stuffed chairs and a couple of tables around it. At the other end Pete saw some weights and a wrestling mat. Most likely if any of the men who might be staying at the camp might like to work out and wrestle around some in their spare time, they could do so here late at night when everything else was quiet.
In the middle and to the side of the big room was sort of a kitchen, with an old stove and refrigerator, and a heavy old wooden table surrounded by about six chairs in the center. On the table were some plates, coffee mugs and beer glasses.
Rico told Pete to stop for a moment before they headed down a back hallway, and Pete could hear Rico open the refrigerator door and then shut it again.
“Okay, amigo,” continued Rico, go down hallway to the end, last door on the right, and go inside.”
With that, Pete did as he was told, and sensed Rico coming up close behind him.
The thought entered his mind that maybe he could now suddenly jump Rico and overcome him, even if he was still holding the .22. But then he figured he wouldn’t get very far even if he did overcome Rico as Ramon and Luis were still somewhere nearby and would surely catch him and then who knows what they would do with him. Better just to do what Rico told him to, and take his chances on whatever would happen next.
As Pete entered the room, Rico remained outside in the hallway, and then handed him a couple of sandwiches and a couple of beers for his supper. As soon as Pete took them out of Rico’s hands and stepped further into the room, Rico closed the door, and Pete could hear him snap the heavy lock on the outside of the door.
In his first glance around the room, Pete saw that the single window, which faced the compound and garages and lagoon behind them, was heavily barred, as was the small bathroom window which adjoined the bedroom.
Pete knew he was locked in securely until, hopefully, they’d eventually release him for whatever would come next.
The room held little more than a big old and sort of musty bed, an old table and a single chair. He did notice that on the table was an ash tray and a small box contain three or four cigars. Pete had gotten used to smoking an occasional cigar now and then when he had a leisurely evening, and looked at the cigars. Their bands said they were Cuban cigars of the “El Rey De Oro” brand. Pete knew that was one of Cuba’s finest and most expensive cigars, which he knew he could never afford.
So he figured ok, as this might be the last night of his life for all he knew, he’d have an “El Rey De Oro” cigar and make the most of it. He wondered if maybe Ramon used this very room for his own pleasure now and then, and enjoy a fine cigar to go with it?
In the meantime, Pete figured, as it was already past his usual supper time, that he’d first eat the sandwich and have one of the beers Rico had given him, and then sack out to get some rest and prepare himself for whatever might happen from here on.
Looking out the window, to open it at least part way to get some fresh air into the room, he saw the muscular and hunky looking Ramon, stripped to only a brief pair of gym shorts and work boots, his dark skin wet with sweat making him look like a Roman gladiator or wrestler, working with Rico and Luis in moving some boxes between the garages and the dock which stretched out into the lagoon.
As Rico watched Ramon lift the boxes in his powerful arms he held them first against his bulging and sweaty pecs to get a good grip on them, and then he lifted them high over his head, like a weight lifter pressing a heavy barbell over his head, before setting the box down almost gently on a nearby stack. Pete wished he were that box and that the almost naked Ramon was doing that to him. He felt his big cock-rod grow long and hard with the pleasurable and sensual thought of it.
Pete didn’t know what time it was when he woke up, but it was now dark outside. By the light of the half moon, almost overhead, he figured it must be close to midnight.
It wasn’t the moonlight which woke him up, however, but the deep throb of what sounded like a couple of heavy marine diesel engines. Just as he woke up, however, the throb of the engines stopped, and all was quiet again. Getting up, and looking out the window, at first he could see nothing outside in the darkness.
But then, in the dim moonlight, he saw what looked like the low profile of a big and powerful cabin cruiser, maybe about forty feet long, tied to the dock. It was completely blacked out with no lights showing. And then he saw maybe about eight men, all powerfully built and almost naked stripped down to just their shorts in the summer night’s heat, carrying various boxes from the boat on to the dock and then to the garage.
Pete didn’t know how long they had been working before he first saw them, but about ten minutes after he began watching them, he saw them begin to split up, with three men returning and re-boarding the boat, and the other five remaining on shore.
Pete saw that among the five men remaining on the dock, three were Ramon, Rico, Luis and two others.
Next thing Pete knew was when he heard the low roar of the big marine diesels start up again, and the big boat, still totally blacked out, began to leave the dock and slowly head out of the lagoon through the narrow passage back into the dark and waiting Atlantic, with the sound of the big diesels gradually diminishing and then disappearing entirely.
While the boat disappeared in one direction, Pete saw that two of the vans in the garage also pull out and leave the compound, with no lights showing, until they too silently disappeared out of the land side of the key.
That left, Pete figured, once again only Ramon, Rico and Luis on the scene.
Pete then saw their three shadowy figures working in the garage area. Pete thought it looked like they were most likely loading the boxes which had come off the boat into the three remaining vans ready to be shipped out as well. However, as they too were difficult to see in the darkness, and there didn’t seem to be anything else going on, Pete returned to his bed to go to sleep again.
The next thing he knew was that suddenly there was some giant naked monster, smooth, powerful and muscular, chasing him and coming closer and closer up to him. Then, when he, Pete, tripped and fell in his fright, the monster suddenly came up and then came down on top of him to hold him down in a full body press underneath his heavy and naked weight. Then the monster dropped his head down on top of his own head until they were face to face and the monster then put his whole face and lips hard against Pete’s own face and lips and Pete could smell the monster’s breath - which smelled of a fine Cuban cigar!
It was no monster, of course. It was Ramon.
Ramon had apparently finished up whatever he, Rico and Luis were doing outside in the garage after the boat left. Ramon had then apparently come in, taken a shower to get cleaned up from that and had put on, it turned out, only a small and tight black nylon workout bikini, which bulged heavily out in front. Then he must have lit up another fine Cuban cigar, and come into Pete’s room to wake him up. And then take it from there.
“Oh yeah, man!” said Pete as much to himself as to the “monster” on top of him as soon as he had recovered from his “nightmare” and saw and felt the very hunky and almost nude body-builder Ramon lying on top of him grinning.
And then Pete added, for no particular reason, “You sure do smoke some fine cigars, Ramon!”
“Si, I like to beat up hunks and smoke a fine cigar whenever I can,” was Ramon’s grinning reply.
“And I think maybe you are my hunk for tonight?”
Pete had no problem with that even though he wasn’t at all sure just exactly what Ramon had in mind for him. Still, he knew he was more than read for whatever it was.
“You maybe like to wrestle around for a while, Pedro, and we see what happens?”
“Any time you’re ready and for however you like, man, I sure am” was Pete’s very prompt reply.
Ramon then slipped off Pete and got his feet back on the floor. In the next moment he led Pete out of the room, down the dark and silent hallway and out into the big dark living room of the hacienda. At the far end of the room, they came to the open area which Pete had earlier noticed with its racks of weights and the dark blue wrestling mat.
Pete was wearing only his shorts, and Ramon handed him a thin black nylon wrestling jock strap to replace it. Taking off his shorts and putting on the jock strap, Pete could hardly get the full load of his already long, big and hard cock-rod and throbbing balls into the jock strap while at the same time he was also eyeing the long hard ridge and thick bulges almost bursting out of the hunky and muscular Ramon’s own thin nylon workout bikini.
As Pete put on his jock strap, Ramon reached over to a nearby shelf and picked up a bottle of Cuban lucha libre wrestling oil. Pete had already gotten used to and liked to wrestle oiled, and had no problem as Ramon poured some over his waiting body to get both Pete and himself oiled up.
As Ramon rubbed the oil over Pete’s slightly smaller but no less muscular body, Pete reached out in turn and rubbed the rich smooth warming oil over Ramon’s own and even bigger muscular body. As Pete felt Ramon’s skin under his fingers, he felt the hardness of Ramon’s muscled biceps, thick pecs, abs, thighs and inside his bulging crotch.
Ramon was all a solid body-builder’s muscle, and Pete knew, if Ramon wanted to, he could probably crush and destroy him very quickly any time he liked. Pete could only hope that wasn’t what Ramon had in mind but it was too late to pull back now. Not that in his hunger for Ramon’s body that he had any mind to do anyway.
The darkened living room of the hacienda was silent, with only the light of the moon coming through the windows as Ramon and Pete came together for their fight. After a brief touching of their cautiously outstretched hands, Ramon moved in to seize a bear hug on Pete, which Pete was unable to counter as Ramon almost engulfed him in his hold.
But then Ramon quickly released his bear hug and dropped to his hands and knees on the mat right in front of Pete as if to dare him to do whatever he liked with him in return.
Which Pete lost no time in getting back at Ramon. No sooner had Ramon dropped to the mat than Pete leaped down hard on his back, quickly wrapping his powerful legs around Ramon’s muscular lower back, and wrapping his ankles together to tighten his hold before Ramon could escape him.
Then he also moved to wrap his left arm under Ramon’s left arm to seize Ramon’s big thick left pec and begin to crush it in his fist to hold and distract him with that. And in the same move shoved his right arm under Ramon’s own right arm, and got his arm and hand over to the back of Ramon’s thick neck in a half nelson to force his head forward and down to the mat.
None of which troubled Ramon at all. Instead, he liked what Pete was trying to do with him, and felt Pete’s strong moves against him. That meant Pete was intending to give him a good fight, and he knew that’s what both he and Pedro, as he called him, wanted.
Pete was pleased that his first move against Ramon had gone real good, and he too knew it was going to be real good between them - however it eventually turned out.
For a couple of minutes they struggled back and forth as Pete tried to improve his working over Ramon, first by soon bringing up his other arm from squeezing Ramon’s big pec to get a full nelson on Ramon, and then, when that failed to drive Ramon’s head further down to the mat, Pete reversed his course and reached both hands down around Ramon’s chest to now seize both of Ramon’s big thick and muscular pecs until Ramon’s muscled flesh almost oozed out between his fingers.
Ramon could now feel Pete’s working over his big pecs, but liked the feel of what Pete was doing to him. Just as Pete guessed how much Ramon was liking it and knowing he liked it just as much when another wrestler was doing the same thing to him.
After a moment or two of taking Pete’s punishment, however, Ramon figured maybe it was time for him to get back at Pete. But he knew he’d have to take it a little easier on Pete because of the difference in their weights and strength.
Slowly, despite Pete’s riding his back and punishing holds on him, Ramon gradually reared up until he was almost upright on his knees when, in their slippery oiliness, Pete was unable to keep his riding holds on him any longer and slowly and inexorably started to slide off Ramon’s big back until he landed on his own back in a heap behind Ramon.
Then, before Pete could recover, Ramon turned around on his knees and came down in a half body press to lie cross-wise on top of Pete’s chest, with his lower body remaining on the mat, to get Pete in a real good side headlock.
From there, now getting caught in Ramon’s headlock on him while lying crosswise on top of him. Ramon’s big pecs crushing down on his own pecs, Pete knew what maybe Ramon was going to try to do next. Which Ramon did as he began to tighten his headlock, although still not too tightly, on the now struggling Pete. Slowly Ramon began to tighten his headlock on Pete, bringing Pete’s face in closer and closer to his big pec, which Pete had just been squeezing as hard as he could, until Ramon positioned it right over Pete’s face and gradually began to stuff it fully into Pete’s mouth to choke him on it.
Which Pete had no problem with at all. Getting trapped in a headlock by another guy was one of his favorite holds to get caught in, or catch the other man in when it resulted in stuffing his pec into another guy’s mouth, or having the other man stuff his big pec into Pete’s mouth. And he knew, or at least hoped, the time would come in this fight with Ramon when he’d stuff his own muscular pec deep down into Ramon’s mouth too.
Meanwhile, while his breathing was somewhat interrupted, but not badly so, by feeling and tasting Ramon’s bulging pec in his face and mouth, and his teeth roughly rubbing Ramon’s big hard nipple inside his mouth, Pete still managed to reach out with his free arm under Ramon’s big body to where he could seize the full and bulging load of Ramon’s huge, long and hard cock and balls inside his tight bikini trunks, and begin to crush the full load of all of Ramon’s male equipment in his fist to equal the pressure of what Ramon was doing to him.
As he reached inside Ramon’s tight bikini, he found he was able to rip Ramon’s bikini right off his body and get to his big cock and balls directly. In the next instant, having disposed of Ramon’s bikini, he seized Ramon’s long, hard, naked oil-slick dark rod and hard bulging balls and slowly began to crush them in his fist while Ramon was still trying to stuff his big pec more and more deeply into his mouth.
Pete knew Ramon had to be feeling his crushing his big cock and balls, but Ramon didn’t even hardly give any notice of it. Instead, Ramon reached out his other arm and hand, the one not holding the headlock on Pete, and ripped off Pete’s own small and tight jock strap.
Now, as each struggled to punish the other, and liking every moment of the punishment they were both giving and taking from the other, they’d also and from now on wrestle totally naked and oiled, ‘anything goes,’ until however it would finally turn out.
After a couple of minutes of their silent double punishment on each other, which neither actually had any problem with at all, liking it as they did, Pete realized that Ramon had loosened his headlock just a little, which let Pete slip out from under Ramon’s big upper body, and release his own crushing holds on Ramon’s big cock and balls.
And then from there, before Ramon moved to his next hold, Pete found he was able to move around completely and, even though he was still just a little underneath Ramon, he was able to shift around even more until he was able go get completely behind Ramon and get the big hunk in a solid body scissors from the rear.
That meant that he now would have the big muscle-bound hunk’s body in front of him, while both were sitting on the mat tight together, but Pete would have Ramon fully in his control. Ramon would still be sort of top of him, but few things gave Pete more pleasure than being caught under another man’s weight, particularly when it was a big naked body-builder hunk like Ramon.
Quickly and easily, Pete wrapped his own muscled legs around the willing Ramon’s lower body, crossed his ankles over Ramon again to tighten his hold and keep Ramon from escaping, but this time using his feet to repeatedly smash his heels into Ramon’s big load of engorged male equipment.
Pete could feel his heels first smashing against Ramon’s big cock, and then against his bulging balls, and knew Ramon must be feeling it too. Ramon was, but he liked all the give and take cock-fighting punishment he could get, and each time Pete smashed into his bulging crotch, Ramon winced but wanted more.
At the same time, Pete reached up one hand to once again seize one of Ramon’s big pecs, which he now knew Ramon liked, to tighten his control there, and brought his other hand open-palmed across Ramon’s face to pull his head back down as far as he could until Ramon’s dark and curly hair now pressed fully into Pete’s face.
Ummmm yeah, that was a big turn-on for both wrestlers right there for sure!
Again, Ramon took Pete’s punishment for some minutes, liking to take another man’s punishment against his own powerful and hunky body as hard as the other man could give it to him. And Pete was doing a very good job of working him over, for sure!
Still, Ramon knew that his weight, on top of Pete, was a strain on Pete and he needed to escape Pete if Pete himself wasn’t going to get too worn out by it.
Gradually, Ramon managed to loosen Pete’s hold on him some, and then he was able to shove out one of his big legs to the side to get some leverage. And then from there slowly rolled both of them over until now he was on the bottom, face down on the mat, with Pete still riding him on his back.
But now Ramon had more leverage, on the mat, and knew what he planned to do next and give some punishment back to Pete, who was probably ready and looking for it.
Slowly Ramon got up to his hands and feet, and was then able to reach back until he could pull Pete’s legs and feet out from under him, forcing Pete to slide and fall to the mat behind him.
But this time, instead of getting on Pete in some kind of body press, Ramon kept to his knees, while still on top of Pete straddling his chest and holding him down underneath him. Pete quickly sensed what Ramon maybe had in mind to do, which Pete wouldn’t mind at all even though he still tried to escape anyway.
Pete’s escape didn’t work, and the next thing he knew was Ramon had shifted his straddling Pete’s chest back towards Pete’s head until his big and solidly muscular butt was right over Pete’s face. Then, from that position, Ramon dropped his butt down, not too heavily, but nevertheless fully, on top of Pete’s face until he could feel Pete’s full face, nose and mouth bury deep inside the hot, wet and oily canyon of his solid muscle butt.
Ramon came down only slowly to sit on Pete’s face, not know what Pete’s reaction might be. But for Pete, face sitting was one of his favorite wrestling moves and holds, give or take, and he knew he sure didn’t have any problem with the big hunky body-builder Ramon now sitting fully, but not too heavily, on his face.
It was another move he hoped to use back on Ramon later in the match too - assuming he’d last that long. Which he easily did.
Ramon kept his face-sitting hold on Pete as long as he felt he should, while Pete nevertheless tried to escape it by trying to bridge out, first one way and then the other, but meanwhile liking the feel of having his full face buried deep in Ramon’s muscle-hard and hot wet butt.
It was only when Ramon finally shifted a little to his side that Pete was then able to slither out from under him and reposition himself to turn the tables back on Ramon. As Ramon, in the oiled slipperiness on top of Pete, lost his balance and ended up on his back he found Pete facing him near his feet, ready to jump on him and maybe get him in another full body press.
Which Ramon managed to avoid, with Pete circled around him trying to get into a good jump position, but with Ramon twisting around on his back to try to evade and continuing to face him.
Then Pete decided to change his tactics. Instead of trying to jump solidly on the prone Ramon, he moved in to pick up first one, and then both, of Ramon’s ankles and lift them into the air to try putting Ramon even more on is back. Pete then shifted Ramon’s ankles and feet up over his shoulder to increase Ramon’s own weight even more on his shoulders, which then let Pete drive even harder into the prone Ramon until he was almost totally upside down with Pete coming down strongly on top of him.
Which was great for Pete as long as it lasted. But then Ramon tightened his legs, already wrapped around Pete’s head the way Pete was holding him, and suddenly Pete found himself caught in a real solid head scissors by Ramon, facing directly toward his crotch.
Unfortunately, with the oiled slipperiness of their bodies, and now the mat, Pete was unable to keep his advantage over Ramon as he gradually brought Pete down until both were now down level with the mat again. Except that Pete was still caught in Ramon’s tight head scissor on him. Pete, however, had no problem with the feel of Ramon’s big, thick and muscular body-builders legs and thighs wrapped around his head immobilizing him.
Then Ramon followed that up by sitting up and reaching out until he could grab the back of Pete’s head and begin to pull it in closer and closer to his hot, wet and naked crotch until Pete, his legs now stretched out behind him with his whole face pressed hard into Ramon’s crotch and Ramon’s big, long, wet and naked cock and balls pressed tightly against his face, nose and mouth almost choking and suffocating him.
Oh yeah! Pete had no problem with that at all! By now Ramon had figured out that Pete just in general liked to have any part he could of any guy’s hot, wet and naked body pressed hard against his face, almost smothering him, and Ramon was glad to oblige him every way he could.
Not but what Ramon liked the feel of it just as much when he was on the receiving end, which Pete soon figured out too, and got back at Ramon the same way just about as often as Ramon had now caught him.
And then too Pete could make his own move in return against Ramon while Ramon held his face pressed tightly into his crotch and against his big, wet, hard and bulging cock and balls. This predicament he was now in with Ramon also let him open his mouth, with Ramon’s big balls pressed hard against it, and suck both of Ramon’s big bull balls fully into his mouth, completely filling it.
Ramon lost no time in realizing what had happened to his balls as he felt Pete’s mouth and lips close over them, and then felt them caught and trapped inside Pete’s mouth.
Now it was Ramon who had to move very carefully so as not to let Pete bite his balls clean off him, nor could he resist Pete, even though Pete was blinded with his face pressed hard into Ramon’s crotch and with Ramon’s balls in his mouth, when he reached up blindly and once again seized and began to squeeze and pound Ramon’s big thick and muscular pecs, which bulged out even more thickly as Ramon was forced to sit and lean forward into Pete, increasing the punishment on Ramon’s big pecs even more.
However, Ramon liked another guy to squeeze and pound on his pecs as hard as he could. As a result he knew he’d have no trouble taking Pete’s punishment on his big man-boobs as long as Pete wanted to keep up his crushing and pounding on them.
For long minutes their dual punishment continued on each other, Ramon holding Pete’s head tight into his big wet crotch so as to keep Pete from chewing off his balls, and Pete being suffocated with his head and face being held hard against Ramon’s hot wet crotch and pounding as hard as he could on Ramon’s big pecs. With which punishment neither could get enough.
Until finally, both figured they’d had enough, at least for a little while, and Ramon eased off on holding Pete’s head tightly into his crotch, and Pete let Ramon’s big balls slide back out of his mouth and stopped pounding on Ramon’s big pecs as well.
Both knew it had been real good, however, and their double punishment of each other lasted just about as long when, a few minutes later, their positions were reversed and now Pete got Ramon in a similar head scissors and pulled Ramon’s head into his own big load of male equipment, while Ramon sucked Pete’s nearly as big and full balls into his mouth, and then followed that up by squeezing and pounding, only a little less roughly, on Pete’s own muscular pecs, And both enjoying it just as much as they had the first time in reverse.
As the two powerfully built wrestlers, Ramon being somewhat the bigger with his great body-builder’s physique, and the muscular construction worker’s body of Pete, continued to wrestle and grapple it out between them, the moon outside the darkened living room of the hacienda on Pirate’s Key slowly moved to the western horizon.
For almost an hour, Ramon and Pete had wrestled back and forth, first one on top and then the other, Ramon frequently catching Pete in a tight head or body scissors, wrapping his big and muscular legs and thighs around Pete’s head or body, to their considerable pleasure. And time after time, also catching him in one crushing or suffocating hold or another, but never so hard as to really endanger or exhaust him, and Pete coming back just as often to give not much less similar punishment to Ramon.
It seemed sometimes that whenever one caught the other on way or another, it wouldn’t be long before they’d end up reversing the hold and it turned out to be a pretty even give-and-take session at that.
But with it all, it also meant an ever increasing amount of erotic and sensual wrestling as their naked, oiled and muscular bodies were locked tightly together in so many different positions and holds and their hot, nude and slippery bodies rubbed and were pressed against the other one’s for long periods of time.
Then the time came when they found themselves crouching opposite each other, each trying to find a way to get at the other while trying to avoid the other’s sudden move against him. Suddenly, Ramon did move in, shoved out his arm and got it through Pete’s crotch, and began to lift the smaller man up in the air.
Suddenly caught, there was little Pete could do about resisting Ramon’s move on him as he felt himself losing contact with the mat and unable to get any leverage to get back at Ramon.
Then, in the move, when Ramon had Pete just about opposite his chest, he suddenly shifted his extended hold on Pete and brought him in tight against his big naked chest and pecs. And then from there he shifted his arm lifting grip in Pete’s crotch until he was able to instead seize Pete’s hard, stiff and highly aroused cock, which was now and once again sticking straight out from his body, in his fist, like the big handle it was for him.
And simultaneously with his other hand, Ramon opened his big and powerful fist to make a Y between his thumb and the rest of his hand, to then pressed the Y by his thumb and hand against Pete’s throat. Not holding it really tight enough against Pete’s throat to choke him, but more like he might grab a barbell, open-handed, to press over his head.
In the next instant, Pete felt himself being pressed high in the air over Ramon’s head almost touching the low ceiling of the hacienda’s great room, solely by Ramon’s holding and almost crushing his big stiff rod in one hand with his head and neck caught in the Y of Ramon’s powerful hand against his throat at the other end.
For an instant, Pete thought maybe Ramon was going to dash him down to the mat and maybe kill him. But then his mind flashed back to Ramon doing this same earlier in the evening with the boxes he was moving around when Pete was watching him out the window.
How he wished then he was one of those boxes, and now he actually was. Unlike the boxes, Pete was able to resist at least some of the pressure on his big cock and throat by reaching down and grabbing on to Ramon’s powerful shoulder for support, but he knew he also liked the feel of Ramon’s powerful hold on him and the possible danger he was in if Ramon did decide to smash him to the mat below.
He needn’t have been too concerned. Ramon knew what he was doing, but instead of letting Pete down gently as he did the boxes, he first kept Pete suspended high in the air over him, and, after pumping him up and down a couple of times like a barbell in an open press, he turned around once, slowly, as if he were going to put Pete into an airplane spin.
Ramon knew, however, that this wouldn’t be a good idea, nor did he know how far Pete would be comfortable with his whole move. So, after just a single spin, Ramon slowly dropped down to his knees on the mat, and at the same time slowly released his grip on Pete’s still rock-hard man-tool and throat until Pete was able to slide slowly and gently down the rest of the way to the mat.
It only took a minute for Pete to recover from Ramon’s big move on him, and while Ramon waited for him to make the next move back on him, Pete was very soon ready to get back at Ramon. As he recovered, Pete couldn’t help but think what Ramon’s move with him had just been, and wondered if Ramon might have seen him looking out the window, and thought Pete might have been thinking and liking what he saw. If so, Ramon’s move on him was just to fulfill Pete’s desires along that line. Which Pete had obviously enjoyed.
In all of their moves against each other, or taking the other’s punishment until they could escape it, more and more they sought out, seized, and began to tear at and crush each other’s big, long, hard and naked cocks and thick balls to punish them as hard as they could.
Over and over again Ramon seized Pete’s big rod, every time highly aroused sticking out hard from his body no matter what position they were in, and used it like a lever to push or pull Pete back and forth or high into the air over him, with Pete unable to resist Ramon’s move and liking every time what Ramon was doing to him. Or Pete doing the same thing by seizing Ramon’s just as big or even bigger rock-hard cock the same way and also pulling it back between his legs and enormously muscled thighs until he almost ripped it clear off Ramon’s body.
With neither ever getting enough of the punishment they were giving each other.
All of which only served to build up, however, the enormous amount of hot, white and creamy cum which had been accumulating in their bodies ever since they began their fight, now well over and hour ago, in their back-and-forth naked and oiled wrestling punishment of each other on the mat in the dark and silent hacienda on Pirate’s Key.
Neither thought about it at the time, but both might have wondered how many times other wrestlers had fought in the same hacienda in the earlier days or its existence, or back in the even earlier days when the pirates who had inhabited the same key when it was the hidden lair of the pirates themselves.
But now, in the silent and darkened room, both Ramon and Pete, their naked muscled bodies slippery with oil, now mixed with the sweat as well, knew that their long fight with each other would finally soon have to end.
Pete knew he was beginning to tire after his long match with the big muscle hunk Ramon, and Ramon sensed too that his own end wasn’t too far off either.
Both wrestlers also knew, even more importantly, that after their long session of cock-fighting and ball crushing each other both were more than ready to shoot their full loads of hot milky cum, whether they wanted to let it go or not.
Among their many scissors holds on each other were the hold and deadlock already real familiar to many wrestlers, a double figure-four head scissors on each other, with their heads trapped silently and fully between the other’s big thighs, preventing the other’s escape but their own as well.
And, in this case, as in many others in similar circumstances, whenever both wrestlers fought, oiled and naked, in some darkened room on some vinyl mat or in the dirt or on a soft bed of moss out in the woods, they frequently ended up jamming their big cock-rods hard against the other’s face, but also even more frequently stabbing it deep down into their opponent’s mouth, while at the same time feeling the other’s equally big cock-rod stabbed down deep into his own mouth and throat.
Which was Ramon and Pete’s situation was now as both silently and almost motionlessly, locked tightly together knew the end was at hand.
And so they came. Almost simultaneously, both felt their final spasm, and that of the other, race through their bodies to their big cock-end outlets and in the next instant as felt their own full load of hot white cum explode out of their big and rock-hard cock ends into the other’s mouth, they felt and tasted their own mouth fill just as quickly with the other’s equally full load of hot, white, creamy and tasty cum-load as it exploded out of the other’s body.
On and on, both felt their own full loads of cock juice pulse and flood out of their own cocks, while they similarly felt and tasted the same full load of the other’s hot and sweet cock juice fill their own mouths.
On and on it flooded until, finally, both found themselves totally drained and exhausted. And only then fell apart and separate to lie, almost motionlessly, on the dark mat together.
Pete knew it sure had been good, wrestling the powerful body-builder Ramon in the darkened room of the hacienda, and Ramon knew it had been no less pleasurable for him to wrestle the hunky construction worker Pedro with his motorcycle from Key West.
Pete woke up with a start the next morning when the bright sun’s rays reached his face as he lay in bed, the sun already having been up and hour or two before it reached him in bed.
It took him just a moment to realize where he was. Then he quickly got up and looked out the window to check on things outside. But now he saw nothing other than the dock and even the garages were empty of the vans which had been in them just last night. Listening, he heard no sounds coming from inside the hacienda either. For an instant, he wondered where everyone had gone, and if he were still locked inside the room? If so, what would he do next?
Quickly, he put on his shorts, work boots and muscle shirt he’d been wearing yesterday on his ride up to Pirate’s Key, and went to the door to see if he was still locked in.
No. The door was unlocked, and in the next instant he was out in the hallway and then down the hall and out into the big living room and kitchen area which he saw earlier on his way in. And there, over to the side, was the dark vinyl wrestling mat where he and Ramon had fought for well over an hour last night, to the considerable pleasure of both. But now, none of the others seemed to be anywhere around.
Pete didn’t quite know what to do next, except he knew, right now, that he was hungry after only his sandwich supper last night and then the long bout with Ramon in the darkness of the night.
He glanced over at the small refrigerator and big kitchen table to see if there was any sign of food in the place, and saw the cooler which, last night, held some sandwiches and beers.
Opening the cooler, he saw there were still a couple of sandwiches left, and they still looked fresh and real good to eat. And, next to the cooler, a thermos of hot coffee as well! Good deal! That would take care of breakfast, for sure!
Then he noticed, next to the thermos, a slip of paper and a note, which was addressed to him, held down by a box, about eight by twelve inches, wrapped in plain brown paper.
He picked up the note. It read: “Buenos dias, Pedro! I hope you slept well last night - we were pleased to have you as our guest in our modest hacienda! Also, our “lucha libre” wrestling match, which Rico and Luis watched from the sidelines. I hope you liked it as much as I did! Maybe we do again sometime? Have a good ride back to Key West - Adios y hasta la vista!” The note was signed “Ramon, Rico and Luis.”
‘Well I’ll be damned,’ thought Pete as he grinned while reading the note.
‘Yeah,” he thought, ‘any time the “next time” comes, Ramon, sounds real good to me!’
He then opened the brown paper box and found, inside, a sealed cigar box which said on the lid “Fine Cuban Cigars - El Rey De Oro” and saw the twenty-four fine cigars in the box!
‘Gawd,’ thought Pete. Ramon’s left me this whole box of the finest cigars Cuba makes! Oh yeah! He had no trouble at all thinking of not only the pleasure he’d get from smoking them, one at a time spread over quite a while to extend the pleasure of it, but also to hand some out to Jose and some of his other construction buddies to share his good fortune and who would be as impressed by them as he was.
A wide grin continuing to spread across his face, Pete ate and finished up the sandwiches and coffee which Ramon and the others had left him. But then, slowly and sort of reluctantly, he took a last look around the hacienda, lagoon and now empty garages, before he’d begin the walk back up the road he had come in on and back to the chain which crossed the entrance where he found his motorcycle, still safely chained to one of the posts.
It had surely been a great day and night, and now that it was over, he was sorry it had to end. He fingered his box of fine cigars, however, and knew they would made a real pleasant souvenir of the weekend and particularly of his great wrestling around with Ramon last night to the ultimate pleasure of both.
As Pete undid one of his saddlebags to put his box of cigars carefully into it, he found there was paper bag in it which filled it almost to the top. He knew he didn’t have anything in the bag when he came up to Pirate’s Key, and wondered what it might be.
Pulling it out, it felt sort of heavy as if it might be holding a couple of bottles.
Opening the bag to see what it was, sure enough it was two bottles. Then he checked the labels on the bottles, which held a dark golden brown liquid. The labels on the bottles said “Don Marquis Choice Cuban Rum - Bottled Exclusively In Cuba.”
‘Oh Gawd’ again, thought Pete. He knew the Don Marquis brand of Cuban rum was probably the finest rum made in Cuba - just like the “El Rey de Oro” was the finest of cigars. Ramon, on his way out from Pirate’s Key, must have put the two bottles in his motorcycle saddlebags, knowing Pete would find them when he got back to his bike.
‘Ramon, Ramon,’ he thought, ‘what a great guy you are!’ Pete’s eyes watered just a moment thinking of Ramon, but then his big grin quickly returned to his face as he started his bike up and got it turned around to head back out to the highway and back to Key West.
On the following Sunday evening, when he was reading the Conch Courier, Key West’s local newspaper while smoking one of the fine “El Rey De Oro” cigars which Ramon had left him, he read a brief article on page three. The headline said “Suspected Drug Boat Boarded And Released.”
The article said “A suspected drug running boat, the “Ramona del Oro” was caught by the USCG and boarded yesterday in the Gulf Stream as it was heading to Cuba. After boarding and searching it, however, the inspectors found only two cartons of cigars and three cases of rum, all of high quality, but no drugs. A further and detailed inspection found no presence of any drugs from any possible previous shipments. As a result, the boat was released, with no further action contemplated.”
Pete smiled. He knew that the USCG was focused almost entirely on the drug trade, and spent almost no time on contraband such as tobacco, rum or other products which had no connections with drugs.
Ramon was clever. Knowing the USCG paid little attention to anything but drugs, he apparently specialized in Cuban rum and cigars, probably running them up mostly by night, then unloading them at Pirate’s Key where unmarked and ordinary looking trucks and vans could haul them up to various distribution points on the mainland while the “Ramona de Oro” returned to Cuba by day, virtually empty so that the USCG couldn’t detain them. Then, a few nights later, or whenever he got another shipment ready, he’d move the next load to Pirate’s Key to repeat the process. It was pretty simple, but not dealing in drugs he didn’t have to worry to much about anybody reporting him to the USCG for a reward, as they didn’t pay for that information, and if he was caught the fine he wouldn’t have to worry too much about that.
Pete just happened to catch Ramon, Rico and Luis on one of the nights when they were unloading a shipment at Pirate’s Key. Pete grinned to himself on Ramon’s whole deal as he inhaled a deep breath of the great aroma of his fine cigar.
Two weeks later, on a Wednesday afternoon when Pete was working at his regular job with his crew pouring some footings for a new pier at the Naval Base in Key West, one of the workers at a nearby job caught his eye and motioned for him to come over to the supply shack when he had a chance. No problem doing that.
When he got to the shack the worker, a really muscular and hunky man, slightly older, maybe in his thirties, and somewhat shorter and stocker than himself and looking like he might be Cuban, silently handed Pete a fine fresh “El Rey de Oro” cigar with a note wrapped around it.
The note said “Pedro - Next Saturday, 11 pm, you want another ‘lucha libre’ match? I ready for you!” It was signed “Ramon.”
Oh yeah! Pete knew he was ready for that any time the big hunky muscle-stud Ramon was!
That next Saturday night’s wrestling with Ramon, who was alone this time, both were again oiled and nude on the mat in the darkened great room of the fish camp hacienda Again, it lasted well over an hour And, hard to believe, it was even better the second time around!