Wrestling Tournament: Father and Son vs. Father and Son

The summer before I started college my dad and I decided to enter an open wrestling tournament.My dad was pretty young – in his mid-40’s – and was in great shape. He had more hair on his chest (and his ass) than on his head and I did notice a few gray pubes sprouting out around his cock the last time I saw him naked, but he could outwrestle guys half his age. When my brothers and me started wrestling, dad put some mats in the basement and we would all go down and workout together on weekends. So the chance to be able to wrestle at a tournament together was a great excuse to spend some time together before I went away to college.

The tournament featured folkstyle and freestyle wrestling and also had a special section for something they were trying out — tag team wrestling. It wasn’t like pro-wrestling, instead it was normal college wrestling rules, but every time there was a break in the action, like if the ref called the wrestlers back to their feet or if they went out of bounds, you could tag in your partner to take your place.

When we got to the gym we had a look at the brackets and saw that we were matched up against to other guys with the same last name in the tag team competition. We figured they must be brothers.

We made our way to the lockerroom and stripped down. We had very similar bodies, chiseled abs from years of wrestling, but dad had a thicker layer of fur over his, while mine were smoother with a dark treasure trail leading to my wiry bush.

As we fished around in our bags for our jockstraps and singlets, two guys sat down on the bench opposite us who were like a mirror image. The younger guy was about my age and size and the older guy was about dad’s age and build, but with some hair on his shoulders and back.

We pulled on our matching white singlets laced up our wrestling shoes and went out onto the practice match to stretch out and drill a little bit.

Before too long it was our turn to wrestle, so we went over to the mat where the tag team matches were being held. As we got situated, we looked across to the opposite corner and saw the two guys from the lockerroom.

“Looks like this is going to be a family feud!” dad said chuckling.

“Yeah, but I think we can take ‘em,” I said.

We all went to the center of the mat and shook hands. It was agreed that me and the other son would start things off. Our dads went to the sidelines and the ref blew the whistle.

We circled for for a few seconds but I was feeling aggressive and shot a single leg. I brought him down but he turned himself onto his belly. As he got to his knees I jumped on his back and grabbed his left arm, trying to destabilize him so i could turn him over. We struggled for a little while like that. He went down on his belly again so I clamped on a hammerlock and grabbed his head with the other hand and made him eat some mat. I could hear him groan in discomfort as I rubbed his face in the mat some more. Both our dads were yelling at us as we wrestled. I sunk in a quarter nelson and flipped him on his back.

“You got him Brett! Finish him off! C’mon, stick hiiiiimmmm!” my dad shouted as the other guy flipped around on his back like a fish.

“Don’t let him do that to you Mike! Get off your back! Fight him! Fight him!” the other dad yelled back.

Suddenly the ref blew his whistle. My opponent, Mike, had managed to squirm out of bounds to avoid the pin.

We got to our feet and Mike immediately went over to his corner and tagged in his dad.I was looking forward to wrestling the old guy, but my dad wanted to take a shot at him, so i tagged out too.

The two veteran wrestlers shook hands and locked up. The both had their pride on the line. Neither would want to be pinned in front of his son. Mike’s dad was obviously tough. Both ears were mangled indicating a lot of time on the mats. The two men pushed and shoved each other until Mike’s dad got my dad in a front headlock and then slid to the side, locking his arms around my dad’s hair chest and gaining control. Dad tried to get up but Mike’s dad threw his weight on top of him and he collapsed on his belly with a huge grunt.

“C’mon dad, you can take this guy!” I yelled. “Get back to your feet!”

But Mike’s dad didn’t seem to be going anywhere. He was lying flat on my dad’s back, shoving his sweaty forearms under my dad’s hairy armpits to try to get some leverage to turn him on his back. They hit a stalemate so the ref brought them back to their feet. Normally one of them would have tagged one of us sons in, but it was obvious that our dads wanted to wrestle this to the finsih. The ref blew the whistle and dad tried a single leg, but failed. He tried turning it into a fireman’s carry, but Mike’s dad defended and got his back instead. Then he grabbed my dad’s left leg and drove him into the mat face first.

Then he scooped up his head with the other arm and I cringed. He was going for a near-side cradle.

I could hear Mike on the other side of the mat cheering his dad on.

“Cradle him dad! Put him away!”

And that’s exactly what he did. He flipped my dad onto his back. His right leg was trapped and his left leg was flailing as he desperately tried to kick out of the hold. I didn’t even try to shout encouragement because I knew it was over.  Mike’s dad’s balls pressed into my dad’s cheek to add to the humiliation. My dad’s jock was clearly visible through his white singlet as he kicked helplessly. The ref slapped the mat and put an end to the humiliation at last. They got to their feet and Mike and I were called to the center of the mat to stand by our tag team partners.

“Sorry about that. He was tough!” dad said to me.

The ref raised Mike and his dad’s arms in victory. They flexed their biceps half-jokingly as dad and I slumped off the mat in defeat.

In the shower in the lockerroom later, our two opponents approached us.

“Hey, good match!” the father said, water streaming off his thick cock. “We’ve got a big matroom in the barn over at our place. We converted the whole thing into a wrestling room with showers and everything. You guys should come over and workout with us sometimes. There’s a bunch of guys who come to wrestle every Saturday.”

“Yeah, we can have a rematch!” I said, laughing.

“Alright then, next Saturday, 1 o’clock.”

…to be continued…

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