All characters in this story are over 18.

I slipped and the moment of imbalance cost me the fight. My mistake was seized upon. The lad punished me. He deftly grabbed my neck into a lock and lifted me up backwards. The audience – three of the boy’s college mates in this garret room – cheered. Then he humiliated me. He pulled down the boxing shorts I had (we both had) donned for this little display.

This situation had been my attempt to impress Tommy, the beautiful young man I had been courting, and to show him and his mates that this middle aged dude (me) could still cut it grappling like I had done in college. That had been in 2000. Y2k. To me, it seems like yesterday. But my body has other ‘ideas’. I’m not that fit, lean young dude anymore. And this boy was showing me up in the most humiliating (and, honestly, kinda titillating) way. In front of his friends too. I had met Tommy when he and a college pal had shown up at my door one sunny afternoon.

The two lads who stood there when I opened the door were definitely well cute. They must have been around 20. Fit, lean with shaved back and sides and moppy dark hair. Pretty twinks, yet not an effeminate bone in their bodies. Not that I mind effeminate twinks though, especially when they’re real pretty. But these were lad’s lads.

“Fancy someone power hosing your passage, sir?” one asked, a hint of a knowing smile on his boyishly good looking face. That was Tommy.

I laughed. That was enough for them. They knew they had a customer for both services. Unlike some of these gaming entrepreneurs, the lads actually did have hosing the front passage and tidying the garden on offer — as well as their other trade. They got to the respectable work first while I watched, lust rising, and got a few beers out for their refreshment. They were really hot dudes.

As we settled back to enjoy the beer they got to flirting.

“Im sweating buckets” said one “im sure an older queer like you wouldn’t object if we got out of some of these sweaty clothes, would you?”

“Course not!” I chuckled as the lads took off their tops revealing chiseled white torsos. Even better came when they dropped their pants. They were both in jockstraps. Their pert white young arses glistened with sweat. I was almost cumming just looking at them. I stripped off myself and got down on all fours.

“Oh, you wanna play that way? Ok. Doggy wants a whiff of this young asshole, huh?” Tommy turned and presented me with his luscious buns.

I panted and crawled over. Just as I was about to dive in with my tongue, he turned and gave me a playful smack across the face. This was their moment to haggle up the price for their service. Smart move actually, now they had my lusting naked arse on all fours, gagging for a taste. We agreed and I was allowed to get in there. His glorious boy hole tasted sublime. Sweaty, musky young jock flavour is my favourite. Meanwhile the other got behind me and started punishing my ass with smacks before getting rubbered up and doing me like a bitch. He fucked me good and hard as I was engrossed in his mates tasty young asshole. If anyone had looked in the kitchen window, they would have seen something unexpected!

Finally I treated the kitchen floor to a hot, salty, power hosting of my own and rolled over in ecstasy.

That was a week before this arranged combat. I had decided that I didn’t want to solely play the sub for Tommy. I wanted to show him I was and could still be an alpha top.

But, there I was, pink in the face and sweaty, the lad of my desire reefing me up off the carpet in a disabling headlock, my skin pressed close against the warmth of his immaculate beige pecs and washboard torso- and I was defeated. Most definitely so. And now he had dragged down my jocks. My 43year old tool hung out there, beneath my modest paunch, limp and pathetic in front of his mates faces, who responded with derisory laughter.

I couldn’t tell them, like I desperately wanted to right then, that that tackle had once been prime, sought after boy-meat. That twenty years ago, good money was forthcoming from photographers and older guys in general, just to see that schlong and maybe even get a whiff of the fine young arse the other side. No.

And even if I could tell them, what would that do but make me look even more pathetic and humiliated before the object of my lust? What was before them now was just a slightly saggy middle-aged guys dick.

The boys cheered again. The lad mercifully let me loose a moment. It was vanishingly brief. He bent me forward, my forehead touching the carpet, and gripped up my waist, pulling my ass into his groin. I felt his rock hard young dong through his shorts.

What the fuck?! Was he really going to…i mean, right here right now…in front of his mates??!!

“no Tommy!” I yelled (not actually resisting) “dont! Please! Not here!! Agghhh!!”

But my protests were in vain. He shoved his raging young schlong right into my greying manhole and began pounding away.

My face was red now as I roared in (pretended) objection. On and on – the slapping and squelching of hot, wet flesh. Up stood the other lads and whipping out their boyos, they began jacking over my defeated, submissive head and shoulders.

“Yeah man, give it to him!” they jeered.

“fuck, yeh! Take it bitch!!” grunted Tommy, slapping my quivering arse cheeks as he did. For my part, I got a hold of my (now blazing hard) cock and began jacking furiously.

“awwhhh! Tommy boy, give it to me!!.. etc.

Then, in a glorious moment and in almost perfect harmony, the boys soaked the head of the defeated and humiliated (and blissfully so) wretch before them with fountains of hot boy cream while they kissed in turn the beautiful victor and champion behind me who shot his load into me, panting in his sublime display of dominance.