Mule vs Rob Ho Fuk -- Part I

Rob Ho Fuk  --  Part I
 (Names may have been changed to protect the guilty)
  by Mule  + editor brah + artist brah
(special thanks to Rob Musclestud)

As some of you may know, Mule does charity MMA style wrestling and boxing matches.  I have actually done four over the past two years.  They are set up by a 3rd party event planner, who makes all the arrangements.  The person wanting to wrestle or his sponsor agrees to a certain donation amount, which goes directly to the charity receiving it.  Past donations have gone to tornado victims in Oklahoma, wild fire victims, something about kids.  This has actually raised several thousand bucks.  The 3rd party event arranger weeds out the creepers so I have always had quality opponents.  The dudes with whom I have had matches are understandably well heeled, older than me, and take this very seriously.  They have private trainers, private wrestling coaches, private MMA trainers, nutritionists, and are very enthusiastic fighters.

(click "Read More" below to continue with this post)

In fact, the first person I had a match with was a pediatric cardiologist.  On the mats he was a beast, off the mats he was an intelligent, cultured and chill dude.  "Doc" and I have stayed in touch since our charity match, including taking hunting/wrestling trips together-including a dove hunt to Argentina. The demands of my successful legal career are such that I really can’t do more than a couple of these a year now, despite me being one of the most frequently requested as an opponent by the rich contributors.

However, I was recently contacted by the event manager concerning a proposal, where the contribution was so large it really caught my attention.  The fact sheet with the email on the contributor-opponent, together with some googling revealed that Rob Ho Fuk  was some kind of hedge fund CEO making $10,000 a day but it wasn't too clear on what he really did for a job, if anything..   His daddy (Ho Lee Fuk) is a Chinese industrialist whose claim to fame was throwing thousands of Americans workers at the Sunbeam plant in Muncie Indiana out of work by manufacturing toasters using 10 year olds and slave child labor in Dongguan and selling them to Walmart.

Rob Ho Fuk, my potential adversary, was born in the USA and apparently is quite a playboy.  The internet was full of pics of Rob Ho Fuk at night clubs or at parties, often with the semi-famous, Kardashian-type whores.   More I read about Rob Ho Fuk the more I disliked him.  Apparently he was a huge MMA fan, and using his money, had over the years owned a few MMA fighters and was known to have trained with Yves Edwards, Rocky Long, and Lewis Wood.  There were articles on Sherdog where he boasted that if he had become an MMA fighter instead of a hedge fund manager, he would have been the unified Champ.   Everything I read about the dude made me think he was a total dick.

It was a lot of money he was willing to donate, more than in the previous four charity matches combined.  So I emailed the event arranger back and told her I was down and gave her the go to set it up.  A week later I got an email with the details, the usual 20 pages of rules, waivers, stipulations, etc., and confirmation that the sizable donation (including arrangements to pay all my expenses) had already been made and cleared.   Our fight would be in Las Vegas, the arranger would provide the venue, the match to be private (although if the Rich Fuk wished, the contributor may have limited audience, although no taping or pic taking by either party would be allowed. I would be flown in (it is a 30 minute flight to Las Vegas from Denver but a long ass drive), put up at one of those fancy Vegas hotels, and provided a rental SUV or truck (Mule neither fits in nor drives cars!) to tool around in while there. Basically I am getting a two day vacation for about an hour’s work.

*****

On the scheduled date, a Saturday morning, Mule hopped the short flight FIRST CLASS to Las Vegas.  Through his Sports connections, he also managed to get a ticket to a boxing match on Saturday night. It was going to be one hell of a vacation!! Mule anticipated much fighting and fucking, his favorite pastimes.

Mule’s match with Rob Ho Fuk not being until Sunday, Saturday in Vegas lay before Mule like an all-night buffet of fun.  He checked in to the MGM Grand hotel and spends some time exploring Las Vegas before the fights, with an ample per diem that would allow him to experience how the other half lives.

Mule’s been feeling horny all day and decides to cruise the town in his rented Dodge Ram looking for some nice, eager woman, or women, with massive tits.  Your hero gets dressed to the nines in a tight fitting tank top and jeans, climbs into his pick up and heads off, looking pretty devastating. He is not disappointed to find Vegas is full of 9.5+ HBB.  Unfortunately Despite his muscular awesomeness, he’s not having much luck, which catches the Mule by surprise for the sheer novelty of the situation.  These gold digging Vegas sluts were more interested in the size of a dude’s wallet than the size of his muscles or his dick.  Usually when the Mule went out, the women were falling all over themselves to buy HIM drinks. This was one fucked up city! Frustrated, Mule thought: “Maybe he will have more luck finding babes at the fights tonight”.

Mule heads back to the hotel where the boxing was taking place in a few hours, and went to his room to freshen up with a COLD SHOWER before dinner and then after chowing down it would be off to the fights.

“Hell, I stink.   Gotta hit the shower.” Mule thinks as he stripped off his shirt from his heavily muscled torso, kicked off his boots and dropped his jeans and shorts. Still the scent of his testosterone infused musk while rank was also so infused with preternaturally masculine hormones and potency, that Mule suddenly grew both aroused and aggressive.  He stretched his naked body in front of the mirror. “Jezus,” Mule says to himself.  “You have one hell of a physique, buddy.   The face ain’t chopped liver either.    The ladies are gonna go ape-shit for you tonight.   What do they always call you- a Greek God?   Shit, that doesn’t even come close.   OK, go hit the shower, stud.”

OK, go hit the shower, stud

♯♬ ♪ ♮♫♭♩PA PA PA PA PAPAPAPAPAPAA DO OD 
DODODODODODOO 
DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO♯♬ ♪ ♮♫♭♩

A few minutes later Mule came back from the bathroom rubbing the thick towel across his carved sinewy contours and walked over to the closet and gazed into the full-length mirror on the door.  Mule dropped his towel and gazed at the naked, muscle-stud, standing motionless in all his physical perfection and the reflected perfection in the mirror and smiled slightly back at him.

“You are simply fucking gorgeous…so beautiful it hurts.   OK, man …let’s do it.” He said as if in a locker room pep-talk at Babe Hunting halftime, after a lousy first half.

He began stroking his cock, gazing at the muscles flexing as he ran his eyes over the perfectly chiseled physique.  One of Mule's secret pleasures was to jack off looking at his own naked body in the mirror.

 Mule dropped his towel and gazed at the naked reflected perfection in the mirror and smiled

“God, you’re spectacular,” Mule breathed.  “I can’t hold out too long, man.”    You are one hot son-of-a-bitch.   OK, man, let’s do it.    I want to see you cum, buddy.   I want to see that hot body shoot its fucking load.”

His jaw clenched, his muscles flexed and he began to run his hands lightly over his spectacular naked chest.    He moaned softly as he felt his pecs, then the ridges of his washboard stomach, then ran his hands up over his shoulders and down to stroke his perfect biceps.    "Look at that guy in the mirror.   He’s fucking gorgeous …… and he’s gonna make me shoot my load.”

Mule looked into his own green eyes and
 moaned to himself.   “God, you’re sensational.    
You really are a fucking Greek god. 

“Oh, man,” Mule moaned.  “This is it.     You’re making me cum!”

Mule walked forward naked, pushed his face close to the mirror and began kissing his own reflection. Mule pressed his lips to the glass and began kissing his own image.   Now the naked bodybuilder was grinding his entire magnificent body against the glass, his face and chest rubbing over their own reflections, moaning in ecstasy. His hard cock rubs against the reflected cock in the mirror, and they pressed harder, grinding close to orgasm.

One of Mule's secret pleasures was to jack off looking at
 his own naked body in the mirror

Mule walked forward naked, pushed his face
close to the mirror

His hard cock rubs against the
reflected cock in the mirror

He raised his arms, stretched high against the mirror, and pressed his body against the glass, grinding his cock against the mirror cock.

Mule looked into his own green eyes and moaned to himself.   “God, you’re sensational.    You really are a fucking Greek god.     Make me cum.”

Mule spoke to himself.    “I forgot just how fucking gorgeous you are, man.   Hell, I could make love to you all day. No wonder women are typically panting around you!  All I need is me and a mirror, and I am instantly horny!   Come on, man.   That’s it.    Work that big cock.   Let me feel that body against mine.   Oh, man.  Make me shoot my load!”

And suddenly the magnificent bodies (Mule and his reflection) shuddered, their up stretched arms seemed flexed against either side of the glass and there was a howl of ecstasy as a stream of hot creamy liquid blasted from Mule's cock up between the body and the mirror.   Mule's bare muscled  ass clenched hard as he ground his pulsing cock against the glass like a dueling Jedi, every muscle straining as his body unloaded his pent-up juices.  Exhausted, Mule fell to his knees, sliding his chest and arms down against the mirror.   He saw the creamy white juice running down the mirror onto the floor and felt his cock still pulsing in his hand.

Mule grinned then started to laugh.  Mule said to the reflection, “OK Dude that is not what tonight was supposed to be about. I didn’t come here to beat my meat looking in a mirror.  It was a fucking great jack off session, but we gotta go find us some girls.  It’s been a long time-like hours.   Hell, I don’t know about you Brah, but I need to get me some piece of ass.”

******

A quick second shower to get his spunk off and this time Mule dressed up …just a bit.   Still Levis and boots, but Mule wore a silk shirt instead of a tank top. He looked at himself in the mirror.  "Hell, they’ll be drooling all over us.”

Actually he was right.   As he walked the full length of the huge casino floor downstairs, all female eyes turned in his direction, even the ones that had been glued to the slots.    Mule looked stunning like a tall blonde god. He even heard one woman mutter THOR ALMIGHTY! He was pleased with the stir he created.

After dinner he joined the fans gathering in the boxing arena.  It was a raucous, bawdy crowd, with laughter and obscenities filling the air …… just what he wanted to get his juices flowing.    His seats was great …… ring-side…and as a bonus he was next to some hot-looking girls who seemed ready for anything.   The ladies did a double take as the Mule grinned at them.

The opening fights were tremendous, a great warm-up for the main championship event between a black heavyweight and a blonde mountain of a Ukrainian.    “OK,” said Mule to a hot brunette babe as the fighters entered the ring.   “A drink says the black guy wins … in a knockout.”

“You’re on, handsome.   The chick says, I'll take the blonde …on points…And I only drink the EXPENSIVE top shelf brands.”

The fight was brutal and they had shouted themselves hoarse by the time Mule's man delivered the knockout blow in the sixth round.  As the huge blonde’s head jerked sideways from the crunching right hook, blood spurted from his face, spraying Mule and the brunette girl.    The girl was unfazed, howled with laughter and threw her arm round Mule as he wiped and then licked the blood from her cheek. Most men would of got slapped doing that, the Mule got the babe’s hand in his jean crotch. The Ukrainian was prone and unconsciously kissing canvas as the ten count passed.

The show was over Mule easily pushed through the crowd of the arena, with the brunette on one muscular arm and her auburn friend on the other. In the elevator the Brunette said, “We have a suite on the eighth floor.   “Care for that nightcap in private, big guy?”

As it turned out, there was no nightcap.   As soon as they entered the suite, Mule effortlessly spun first the brunette, and then the red head like tops onto the bed.    Mule turned and smiled at the gorgeous pair.    “Nothing like a good fight, to make one horny” he said, unbuttoning his shirt.  It was a couple of hours later when Mule said goodnight to the girls and staggered out of the room in a disheveled state. It was obvious to anyone who saw him … still shirtless, grinning, and scruffy, tousled …… that he was in the after-glow of great sex.  “Shit, man, I feel great,” Mule thought.    “Sensational.   Those girls knew a few moves that were new even to me.   As he gazed at a mirror he saw in the hall, he said to Mirror Mule Brah: “That was just what I needed. But right now, man, I gotta say I’m bushed. We got to head back to our room for a nap after that marathon. I need my bed. Those clean cool king size sheet are going to feel great”

Mule takes the brunette from the boxing match
 on a trip to Pound Town

*******
When Mule woke up from his sound sleep it was close to noon and he was still a bull in heat.   His testosterone had recovered from the power drain with the floozies the night before, and now flowed more strongly than ever, fueled from the events of the day before:  the disappointed hunt, the fights, the raucous crowd screaming obscenities, the boxers spurting blood in the knock-out, the hours spent fucking the girls.

Mule gets in a light workout, a lunch, and cleans up all before 3:30 p.m.  Then he sets off for the designated private “arena”. He brings a gym bag with fresh clothes so he can clean up after the bout.  He is wearing his jock strap and a pair of patriotic red, white and blue USA stars and stripes style speedos under his jeans to wear in the match.   By now it was time for Mule to meet his opponent for the charity match.

 Following the instructions in the email, Mule heads to some kind of drive in Mall where he is to meet his opponent outside a small night club.  Mule isn't there long when he sees two hot Asian girls on the arm of some fat Asian guy coming out of the night club he was headed for.  Mule’s sudden erection suggests that somebody has just come down with a case of Yellow fever. The Chang chicks are all tits and ass, just the features Mule loves in a slut.

Rob Ho Fuk, his Ferrari, and his hookers 

He can’t figure out what these hot babes see in this fat dude then he spots the Ferrari California sports car. (MSRP: From $198,190)  He Deja vus on his experience prowling Vegas on Saturday.  Oh yeah this guy was rich as Croesus- and the flashy jewelry that tells him the guy is one who wants everyone to know it-so a real douchebag like he figured. Obviously gold diggers or paid escorts, most likely the latter-Mule calculated. Not the twenty dollar BJ crack whore variety either, they must be high class hookers.  With bodies like that, he reckoned they must be $2,000 a night girls and, as far as Mule can judge, worth every cent. It’s a crime those hot girls are wasted on this fat guy just because he’s rich. They clearly need some attention from the Mule who can show them that money isn’t everything. But the Mule wouldn’t be paying for it, as the Mule NEVER pays for sex.

Mule can tell from the way their eyes are roaming over his body that the girls are dazzled by his muscles and torn between trying them out in the sack and relieving the rich guy of some more of his money. Mule realizes that, financially speaking, he’s not in these girls’ league but he has the muscle and the dick to handle either (or both) of them. A night to remember is all he has to offer so he flexes a bit and makes it clear by his body language that he’d welcome trying them out too. They seem more than interested.

It’s a crime those hot girls are wasted on this fat guy,
just because he’s rich.

Mule looks the stocky Rob Ho Fuk up and down. He’s not as big as Mule (obviously).  He is maybe six foot tall but he is clearly wearing some elevator shoes so his real height has got to be a few inches less than Mule's 6'3". He is thick and wide as fuck, it’s hard to tell if all his night clubbing has made him soft   but he’s still a hefty dude with what looks like some muscle under all the blubber. Hard to tell how much of a fight, if any, he will put up but Mule is unconcerned.

Mule looks the stocky Rob Ho Fuk up and down.

"You sure you want to go through with this, bro?  You already made the contribution, you could save yourself a beating and just head back home now."  

 “You have no idea the power I possess, pretty boy” Rob Ho Fuk said calmly.  “But you will.  George St. Pierre once challenged me to a fight in Montreal. I said George "Not since the Plains of Abraham will there been a bigger French defeat than there will be tonight" and before I was though St. Pierre was crying out "Je capitule" before sprinting away in terror!" 

“Great line”, thought Mule, “will have to use that sometime!” but he said:

“Whatever, bro.  If you are so confident you can win maybe we can sweeten the deal.  Let's bring your hot entourage of escorts to watch the fight.  Chicks love watching dudes fight.  It gets them as wet as a rain forest”. Leaning in Mule offers in a whisper to fight him for them; he says it just loud enough so that the dude knows the women heard and that he will lose face if he backs down.  It also means the women know what he has in mind for them later. Sure enough, Rob takes up the challenge. The girls are very turned on.

Rob Ho Fuk is pissed by the attention Mule is giving and getting. Mule’s mind is reeling at the prospect of a night with these two hot women, on the Fat Fuk’s dime.

Mule can tell from the way their eyes are roaming over his body 
that the girls are dazzled by his muscles

And what do you offer, if you LOSE BIG GUY? Fat Fuk leaned in and whispered his terms to Mule, who gulped, and then not wanting to lose face himself, reluctantly nodded.   It will be alpha male versus  alpha male, until one finally pins the other for a ten count.  If Mule loses, Mule get cuckolded.  He will watch Rob fuck his whores and then submissively eat out the whores cum filled pussies.  That's right, Mule will eat Rob's cum.    Mule has  his manhood as well as his  reputation on the line this time.

But Mule, confident of victory, is happy. He was just donating a fight for charity, now he not only gets to fight, he also gets to fuck two high priced call girls.  He never even considers the possibility that he could lose.


He’s so confident he’ll be pleasuring the babes before the night is out and, as for Rob, if he can still walk when he’s finished with him, he can go play with his fancy Ferrari California sports car.

So they head off to Johnny Tocco's Boxing Gym.  Normally closed on Sunday but the match arranger has secured the use of the facility for the private match.  They will have it to themselves for two hours.

**************

(continues in Part II)