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Nick (Sequel to JP)
The Next Generation
|“Good morning, Marco! How has your summer been going?”
“Oh, JP! I almost didn’t recognize you.” Marco, Central High School’s head custodian, looked up from his work in surprise. He hadn’t seen the boy enter the building and was taken aback by the statuesque teen jock that now stood before him. “My summer’s been pretty good. You look like you’ve been spending yours in the weight room.”
JP blushed slightly. “Thanks,” he smiled, flashing his perfectly white teeth. “Coach and the guys are in the wrestling room, right?”
“Yeah, go right ahead.”
JP shifted his gymbag on his round shoulder and headed down the hall. He had almost forgotten how impressive he looked to people who hadn’t seen him since school ended in June. What Marco said was true; he had spent nearly all summer lifting weights…and packed almost 30 pounds of solid muscle onto his already-muscular body, tipping the scales at a beefy 193 pounds.
But the great JP Maloney, while still proud of his gains, knew that he owed a lot of that success to Matt Andersson, his boyfriend. They had met almost a year ago to the day, had come out to each other about six months ago and had been inseparable ever since. They spent just about every waking moment together, pushing each other in their own personal weight room located in JP’s basement, and thrilling at their progress as JP got bigger and stronger each week.
However, their relationship was still a secret to nearly everyone they knew. The only person that they had told was Matt’s mom, who took the news surprisingly well considering her conservative upbringing. She had recognized their love for each other and had looked past her only son’s sexuality. It was almost too good to be true.
Yes, JP could not have imagined a better summer. And now, he was preparing for the opening day of Central High School’s very first middle school wrestling camp, an event that had been in the planning for months. He made his way through the locker room to the coach’s office.
“Hey Coach,” JP greeted him, “sorry I’m late. I overslept a bit. Alarm clock didn’t go off.”
“Not a problem, JP,” Coach Graves, a burly man in his forties answered, looking up from a clipboard. “The other guys are rolling out mats.”
JP grinned sheepishly as he plopped his bag onto a chair and walked toward the wrestling room. In reality, the reason for his tardiness was the incredible night he had had with Matt. The two had unbelievable sex all night, doing it over and over until about three in the morning. Matt was so gorgeous and so hot, he couldn’t keep his hands off of him. And since JP was 16 – and Matt 17 – the two boyfriends had remarkable sex drives. Their daily love-making sessions had become virtual marathons of ecstasy that lasted well into the night.
“JP, where have you been, man?” Danny Tranh, one of JP’s teammates, rushed up to him as soon as he came through the doorway, clapping him enthusiastically on the back.
“Yeah, we were taking bets on which girl you were with last night,” Tyler Backton, the senior heavyweight boomed, smirking broadly.
“You know I don’t do that kinda shit,” JP laughed.
“Jesus Christ, you’re huge, JP,” Danny piped up again, staring wide-eyed at his classmate’s massive arms, which filled the sleeves of the T-shirt to the max. “How big are those guns now?”
“About 18 inches,” JP stated nonchalantly, giving his biceps a slight flex, the muscles bouncing heavily underneath his skin.
“I don’t think you’re gonna be wrestling 130 this year –”
“Guys!” Coach Graves bellowed from the hallway. “Are you rolling out the mats or flirting with each other? Let’s go!”
Within an hour, everything was set: the wrestling mats rolled out and flattened, the uniforms unpacked, the paperwork filed and carried to the sports lobby where the campers would register. Finally, at 9:30, the first of the boys arrived.
Nick and Ian both stepped out of Chrissy’s car. The two were practically brimming over with excitement as they saw the doors to the high school in front of them. They had waited so long for this day and it was here at last.
“I’m picking both of you up afterwards, right?” Chrissy said from the driver’s seat as the boys filed out of the back door. Ian paused briefly to nod – he was a little upset that his parents couldn’t drive him, but they had to go to work. “You sure you don’t want me to go in with you?” she asked.
“No way,” Nick squeaked, his voice overflowing with energy. He couldn’t wait to get in there and meet JP face to face for the first time. “We can register ourselves.”
Chrissy laughed to herself, “Ok, see you at 3:30 then.” As soon as Nick ran from the car – Ian right in tow – she pulled away, confident that her brother would have no trouble finding his element. He had been constantly talking about the camp for weeks.
Nick and Ian walked through the doors and instantly felt the buzz that filled the wide space of the sports lobby. At least half a dozen other boys their age – some with their parents – were waiting to sign in. The two friends took their spot in line.
“Oh my God, look who’s sitting at the table,” Nick gasped, pointing to the tall Asian wrestler at the head of the line. “It’s Danny Tranh!”
“Who?” Ian, not having followed the teams as closely as his friend, didn’t recognize him.
“You don’t know?” Nick explained. “He used to wrestle 103 with JP his freshman year and he was 125 last year. He’s really good!”
“Ok,” Ian muttered. He still had never heard of him. But there was no more time to think about it; he and Nick had reached the table.
“Nick Angelakis and Ian Antoncelli,” Nick blurted out so quickly, he stumbled over his own name.
“Angelakis?” Danny repeated with a slight eyebrow rise. He looked up as Nick stared at him brightly. “You have a sister, right?” Nick nodded eagerly. “JP talks about her a lot.” Ian looked at Nick with his mouth open. And all this time, he thought Nick was only exaggerating that JP and Chrissy were good friends. “Sign your names here and you can grab your T-shirts over at the box over there.”
“Hey, guys!” A high gravelly voice called from across the room just as the two had finished registering. It was Billy – the small rolls of fat on his rotund body quivering with anticipation as he bounced over to the pair.
“Hey, Billy,” Nick greeted him with a broad smile. “How’s it going?”
“Awesome, Nick,” he answered, his eyes bright and wide. “Are you so excited about this? I’ve been ready my whole life! Maybe they’ll have us wrestling each other!”
“I seriously doubt that,” Ian smirked. Billy furrowed his eyebrows, not understanding what he was saying. Ian explained: “Billy, you’re like 30 pounds heavier than us. They’re not gonna stick you with us.”
Nick glared at his best friend, but luckily Billy still didn’t get the total gist of Ian’s remark. “Maybe they’ll split the weight classes differently since there are only a dozen of us,” Nick assured Billy, catching a small eye roll from Ian. Nick knew how much Billy took offense to comments about his weight. He wasn’t obese or anything, just a little plump, but he was considerably heavier than either Nick or Ian who were both thin.
Minutes later, the campers were told to go into the wrestling room and sit in the center of the mat. Nick practically felt his heart jump out of his chest as he walked into the hallowed walls of the wrestling room. This was where his teenage idols practiced and trained. This was where it all happened.
Then, Nick saw JP for the first time in person and nearly became paralyzed. Holy shit, he said to himself. He looked bigger than he seemed on TV or in the newspapers…or maybe he really was bigger. His arms are the size of both my legs put together, he thought. And the shirt looked like it would tear at the seams any second, it fit so tightly across his huge chest. Suddenly, a deep sense of pride filled Nick’s every pore, knowing that he was about to be taught by the great JP Maloney. Every muscle in his body tingled with anticipation; he wanted to get started now.
“Welcome everyone,” the big man the wrestlers called Coach – he must be Coach Graves – barked once the boys had all settled down. His voice seemed to command respect and Nick couldn’t help but listen to his every word. “This is the first of what I hope will be a new tradition at Central High School. You boys are the beginning of the next generation of Spartan Wrestling.” Nick’s fingers and toes were wiggling uncontrollably; he was unable to keep still. This was too exciting. “Over the next five days,” the coach continued, “you will learn the basics of the hardest, but most rewarding sport on Earth. With the help of these men standing behind me” – he nodded to the half dozen high schoolers standing with him – God, they looked huge! – “you will become athletes by Friday.” He eyed JP, who was standing in the middle of them all, and grinned proudly. “And hopefully, we will instill in you all that with hard work and dedication you will become this.”
Suddenly, as if on cue, JP stripped his shirt over his head and revealed his massively ripped torso to the group. Nick nearly lost control of himself; his dick immediately began to harden, causing him to shift awkwardly to avoid his erection from being visible. Never in his life had he seen a sight like this. Every inch of JP’s body was flawless, from his wide, sinewy neck and his round, bulbous shoulders to his broad, shredded chest and his tight washboard abs. The guy was a god. All the boys gasped in amazement and awe. Nick heard Ian squeak out an “Oh, shit!” He wanted to look around at the other boys’ reactions, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of the teen Adonis that stood over him, displaying his immaculate strength and power with the sheer pride and confidence held only by the greatest of athletes.
That’s exactly what I wanna look like, Nick said to himself.
“Boys,” the coach went on, “I would like to introduce to you Central High School’s first district wrestling finalist in over a decade…JP Maloney!” The boys cheered loudly as JP took center stage, his beefy torso still modeling its perfection.
“Thanks, Coach,” he smiled. Man, what a smile! His deep blue eyes instantly hypnotized Nick. He was completely taken by JP’s beauty. “Are you all ready to wrestle?” His voice was deep and booming; it echoed through the room with such presence, Nick felt it seep into him. He automatically heard himself – and everyone else – answer back. “YEAH!!”
“Ok then, let’s get started. The shirts you were given when you came in will be your uniform for most of the week, but you will get a chance to try on actual Spartan Wrestling singlets for your final scrimmage on Friday.” That was going to be cool. Nick could already picture himself in the blue and white colors, looking like a real wrestler. “Right now, we are going to weigh and measure each of you so that you can be placed into one of three groups based on size.”
With that, the boys were instructed to strip down to their shorts and line up in front of a scale that stood in one corner of the room. One by one, each one was weighed and his height measured. Eager to see where they would be placed, Nick, Ian and Billy took off their shirts and were the first to stand in line.
“4 foot 11 inches,” read the hulking wrestler – who Nick recognized as Tyler Backton, “and 89 pounds. You might be a little small for the middleweight group, but from the looks of you, you might outgrow the lightweights pretty quickly.”
Nick beamed at that comment. He was going to grow! He could feel it!
Next, it was Ian’s turn. “5 foot 1 inch and…” Tyler’s huge hands handled the equipment expertly, “and 91 pounds. Definitely middleweight.”
Ian smiled. “Hey, I’m bigger than Nick,” he sing-songed.
“Well, that’s because your taller,” Tyler grinned. “Nick has a pretty broad build. You two will probably be a perfect match for now.”
Then, Billy stepped onto the scale. “5 feet even and 115 pounds.” Billy leaned over to look at Tyler’s clipboard anxiously. “I think we may have to put you in the heavyweight group.”
“Hey, why can’t I be with Nick and Ian,” Billy whined.
“Well, you are a bit heavier than they are, dude,” Tyler admitted.
“It’s because I’m fat. Isn’t it?”
Tyler grinned. “You just have a little more bulk than they do,” he explained. “Don’t worry, stick with me and you’ll be my size in no time.” Billy’s normally-wide eyes widened even more as he was for sure imagining himself the 260+ pounds of sheer mass that was Tyler Backton. The guy was simply massive: well over 6 feet and as broad as a Mack truck.
“Alright, everyone,” Coach Graves shouted above the din, “lightweights will go with Tranh, heavyweights with Backton and middleweights with Maloney.”
“Did you hear that, Ian?” Nick gushed, hardly believing what he had just heard. “Did you hear that? We’re going with JP!”
“Sweet!” Ian giggled, putting his wrestling shirt on. “I want to learn how to become exactly like him.” Nick smiled, knowing that his best friend had the same hopes and wishes that he did.
JP led a group of four boys – the middleweights – to one side of the wrestling room. He had never in his life seen a group of more excited kids. It reminded him very much of when he first started wrestling.
“Ok,” he began, “the first thing you must learn is how to properly warm-up. If you don’t, you can seriously hurt yourself,” – he made a goofy face – “and then you’ll be screwed.” The boys laughed, obviously hanging on to his every word.
As JP guided them through a series of simple stretching exercises, two boys in particular caught his eye. They seemed to be practically jumping out of their skin as they watched him closely, making sure they copied each move with complete accuracy. They were apparently good friends since they hadn’t parted each other’s side since they arrived. And one of them looked…
JP glanced at his clipboard: Nick Angelakis. Oh, so this is Chrissy’s brother. It has to be; he has her eyes. And the other must be Ian Antoncelli.
“You two,” JP pointed to the two boys. “Come here!” They immediately obeyed him. He looked down on them, towering over them by about a foot. “I’m going to pair you two up, ok?”
“Yes, sir,” Nick instantly blurted, smiling broadly, causing his dimples to deepen cherubically. He’s so adorable, JP thought to himself. He’s gonna have girls all over him in a few years, I’m sure. His tanned skin was already glowing as he readied himself for the first clinic of the week. Yep, that kid was going to become a jock in no time.
The next few hours were spent teaching the basics of wrestling: the various holds and defensive maneuvers. JP went slowly, knowing that it could be information overload for a 12- or 13-year-old brain, but these kids seemed to catch on quickly. Nick and Ian especially seemed to excel, mastering each move in almost record time. As they broke for lunch, JP called the two over to him.
“You guys are doing pretty well,” he remarked as they wiped the glistening sweat off their tanned bodies. “I think you two are born wrestlers. If you keep at it, you’ll definitely be on the Varsity team by your freshman year.” Nick and Ian beamed brightly as they ran to follow their camp-mates to the cafeteria.
JP smiled as he watched them. He wasn’t just saying that; they really did show promise.
“How’s your group doin’?” Tyler asked as he came over.
“Pretty awesome,” JP answered. “There are a couple of prospects already. You?”
“Not bad. This one kid, Billy Freeman; he’s determined as heck and pretty strong, but I don’t know if he’s able to get his head around some of the moves.”
“You think he might be…” JP could tell what his teammate was thinking.
“Slow?” Tyler raised his eyebrows, slightly ashamed to say the word. “Maybe, but he has a helluva lot of commitment, that kid. He doesn’t seem to have the capacity to give up.”
“Well, that’s good, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Tyler grinned. “Um, listen, I’ve been meaning to ask you.” JP looked up, gesturing him to go on. “What’s up with your brother?”
JP immediately diverted his eyes away. Tyler had been teammates with Ryan – JP’s older brother – on the football team. But ever since Ryan had graduated, almost no one had heard from him all summer. Apparently, he and a friend of his – Luke – had gone on some sort of road trip before they started college.
“He’s probably fine,” JP answered, trying to hide his awkwardness. The two brothers hadn’t been getting along lately. Ryan used to be a great big brother; he was the one who started JP with lifting and he had pushed him a lot. But then all of a sudden, he became a conceited jerk. JP didn’t want to have anything to do with him. “You know how my brother is…he’s his own guy.”
Meanwhile, somewhere in southern Virginia, a gorgeously built jock sat in a Porsche convertible and waited outside a tattoo parlor. Luke Johnson wondered what the hell was taking so long. He looked at his reflection in the rearview mirror, adjusting his bleach blond bangs so they were just right.
“Damn, I’m a stud,” he whispered to himself.
Proudly, he climbed out of the car and fixed his muscle shirt so that they showed off his beefy pecs to their fullest. He could just feel the hotness coming off of his body. A carfull of bikini-clad girls passed by on the road, honking the horn at him and screaming as they went by. Luke thrust his dimpled chin at them. He’d look them up later. Wasn’t UVA somewhere around here? Man, would he like to get some of that pussy. Luke swaggered into the tattoo parlor, bursting through the door like he owned the place.
“Dude, what the fuck is taking so long?”
“Fuck off, Luke,” a deep voice rumbled from the back room. “This one’s bigger than the last one.”
Then, Luke heard rustling and grunting coming from behind the beaded curtain and realized what was going on. You big jackass, he thought, why didn’t you let me get a piece of that?
After another minute or so, a ridiculously hot chick made her way through the curtain, her hair all askew and her pants still unbuttoned. She eyed Luke with wide eyes, ogling him with obvious lust. Luke smirked at her.
Then, a drop-dead gorgeous jock made his entrance, his piercing green eyes displaying nothing but sheer arrogance, his jet black hair perfectly cut to highlight the chiseled features of his face. But his body was the main attraction. Every muscle was perfectly shaped…and huge. And on his left pec, a large tattoo that read: 100% Grade A Beef. He was simply the epitome of jock.
Luke smiled. “That tat looks awesome, Ryan.”
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