Curt, youre losing focus! yelled Coach Masters from the side of the mat. Get your head in the match or youll never get out of that hold. I knew he was right, but I couldnt help thinking, Easy for you to say, fucker. Give me a break, this is my first time wrestling! I suppose it wasnt the best idea Id ever had: trying out for the wrestling team without any experience. I dont know, I just started college a couple weeks ago, so I guess I was just trying to find my niche. Besides, the school seemed to be desperate for guys to fill out the team. Coach Masters himself was standing out on the quad a couple days ago at an activities fair when he barked at me and told me to come try out. I dismissed it at first, but the more I thought about it, the more I grew to like the idea of getting ripped, having some teammates to drink with, gaining popularity just for being a college athlete. What the heck, Im in shape, maybe a little tall to be an Olympic wrestler, but thats never going to happen anyway. I could totally hold my own. So thats what brought me to the gym that afternoon. I was so unprepared, it was laughable. In fact, the 20 other wrestling team hopefuls did laugh at me. I didnt even have a singlet. It didnt even cross my mind that Id need one. Curt, youre a moron. Coach didnt seem to care: Lets see what you can do; if youre right for the team, well work on getting you a singlet later. Get your shirt off, youre up against Paul in ten minutes. There I was, just in my jeans. Im pretty proud of my body; its not perfect, but Ive got abs and some nice meaty V-lines. I didnt want to look like a doofus just standing there, so I lowered myself to the floor to stretch a bit before my match. As I did, I felt the teeth of my zipper brush against my cock. Holy fuck, Curt, you went commando? Today?! How the hell did you get into college? That soon became the least of my worries as I caught a glimpse of what I assumed was my opponent, Paul, walking across the gym. Sure, he was a couple inches shorter than I, but he had to make up for it in perfect, lean muscle. In fact, thats probably why we were matched up: we weighed the same despite our height difference. Still it seemed wholly unfair. His chest was so tight and muscled that it literally pulled the singlet material away from his 8-pack a bit. I am not ready for this; hes going to destroy me.