Happy Birthday Dragon6593!

[kethni]

It's the 26th here and I couldn't wait :D

Happy Birthday Dragon6593! There should be something more substantial later on but in the meanwhile here's a dirty narrative poem based on your Matt/Mo wrestling prompt.

 

Three Falls And A Submission

 

 

I don’t know why it happened,

It shows, I suppose, how little,

I had tidied up before.

 

I don’t know why the idea struck,

The compunction took,

To open the hidden box

And look inside.

 

Matt is silent on the subject of school,

No word whether he was

Jock, nerd, or fool.

But there in the box, which was unlocked.

Were yearbooks, photographs, and trophies.

 

He was a sporting hero, this man of mine.

He was the grand winner,

He had the crown, he wore the belt,

This man of mine was the wrestling champ!

 

Adolescent Adonis, youthful Zeus,

Or perhaps Hercules,

I get confused.

Handsome, strong, and

Nearly naked. Oh, alright, fine,

He was in tiny, tight, shorts,

That man of mine.

 

Under the gold-leafed yawning yearbooks

And the tarnished trophies

Below the brightly gauchely gaudy photographs

I found The Holy Grail

In flimsy cardboard cases the beetle

Black videos, still shimmering, singing

“Watch us! Watch us! You can watch

Matt wrestling!” It was a siren song, luring me

Onto the rocks

Off of watching him wrestle.

I surrendered to the siren song

And claimed my booty, it was

Wearing tiny, tight shorts.Young Matt, nearly a man,

Quite took my breath away.

My face grew red and I felt my swiftly swelling

Appreciation of his skill.

 

Disasterness!

My luck was out for Matt was in

The doorway. With an expression

Of depression.

 

This sturdy, seasoned man of mine was shamed

It seemed by younger self so swift and supple

Brought forth fears he was too

Ample.

 

I told him clear, I pledged

My plight; my pants right then

Were far too tight.

“Come love mine, we needn’t fight

For you to pin me down to the

Bed, right tight.”

Instead a lover’s match although

I made him catch

His breath once or twice

As we wrestled in our bed.

 

He took me down, I wriggled

Clear. He felled me thrice

In quick succession and

Happily demanded my submission.

His heavy hips he lay on my legs,

His huge hands grasped my wrists

With ease. He held me with

His smile and said,

“Submit!”

 

“Never!” I cried, though I knew I was lost

And the game was his. He took his prize

Tied my wrists above my head and pinned

Me firmly to the bed. He claimed his prize,

Laved tongue along my thighs.

Sucked salted precome from my

Skin and sucked tenderly tortured

Balls, as he kissed the nubs of my nipples before

Touching, tweaking, tormenting and pinching

The pinking flesh.

 

I was blinded, deafened and numb except

For his touch and the whispered refrain,

“Submit!”

“I do!” I desperately demanded that he torment me

No more. He smiled, that man of mine

And latched lips around

The crown of my jewels and with his hand

Upon the sceptre

Dismissed my childish challenge to his

Supremacy, and set me screaming

From the match.