Zeke
Following is an account of a session with Malibu. No violence, no sex. A lot of fun for me and I hope at least a little for her. I don't expect I'll see her again, but I'll have the memories.
Finally we were facing each other on the mat. An old joke will give you my sense of anticipation. It's about the sexual counselling clinic which begins with a lecture to a large group of men. The counsellor asks, "How many of you are having sex more than twice a week." A scattering of hands go up. "Well, that's good," he says, "so for you we'll discuss ways to improve the quality of the experience for you and your partner. How many once or twice a week?" he continues.
And on he goes until he thinks he must have included everyone, but to be safe he asks, "Have we missed anyone?"
A little fellow in the back jumps up and waves his hand enthusiastically. "And how often for you?" the counsellor asks.
"Once a year," the little man shouts.
Amid the titters of restrained laughter, the counsellor follows up. "If you don't mind my inquiring, I'm curious about how you can be so happy about having sex once a year."
The response - "Tonight's the night!"
And so here I was starting my once a year treat - wrestling a woman. And there was no doubt Malibu was a woman. No washed out 110 pound model, overly made up and posing for the camera. California healthy look. Dirty blond shoulder length hair, my height at about five nine, probably ten to fifteen pounds heavier than my 150, all naturally distributed and stuffed into a small two piece featuring a soft leopard skin design bikini top. We'd covered the preliminaries via fax, a brief phone conversation and ten minutes of relaxed conversation. Actually I'd covered them earlier in studying the comments and pictures on her web page. It was clear she was an athlete and willing to be flexible in accommodating the client's wishes. My interest in straight, friendly competitive wrestling to submission by pin falls, not painful holds, seemed well within her scope of scenarios. I'd discovered in my previous experience with Josephine in San Francisco that submission holds like arm bars could have post match effects that lasted much longer than I wished. Not that Josephine had been less accommodating; I simply hadn't known enough to realize what parameters to set up. But Josephine was then, Malibu was now. Right now, smiling at me as if to say, "Let's get it on, buddy!"
We'd agreed to start on our knees (she'd agreed I was the one making all the requests) and had banned all throws and moves that twisted joints. I've been an athlete all my life, work out whenever I'm not splitting wood or hand plowing the garden, have less than 10% body fat, and can still keep up with most men half my age in full court basketball games and three set tennis matches. No sense to risk losing months with a dislocated shoulder. It greatly impressed me that Malibu would accept all these restrictions so easily even though they eliminated much of what she was used to doing on the mat. Clearly she was as nice as they come. She extended her arms and we grabbed each others' elbows. Fearing a test of strength might embarrass me right off the bat, I pushed down and to my right while pivoting to face her right side. As she pushed back up turning to face me her right shoulder came up. I slipped my right arm under the shoulder and over her neck and pushed her side with my shoulder while pulling her neck back towards me. To my amazement she went right over on her back. All those years of watching tapes from California Supreme, Judell DuLong, and a variety of other producers less attractive to me until DWW came along, were paying off. I landed with my chest across hers, her chin resting on my right side, her right hand held tightly by both of mine and her left arm trapped between my legs. I glanced back over my shoulder at her as she tried to wriggle loose or buck free but it was clear very quickly. Malibu was pinned. After a half minute of struggling, she admitted, "You got me with that one." I was a bit in shock but felt I had established respect in the same way as I had with Josephine who, when we agreed to a break after five minutes of fast paced floor work had resulted in no submissions, left to get a towel and some water saying "you're a lot stronger than I expected."
The second fall with Malibu took longer but finished with another fall on my side. This time I wound up with my head on her stomach, arms holding her tightly in a reverse bearhug, and her head held firmly between my legs. I had told her I found wrestling a woman to be extremely enjoyable but not sensual as long as you had to focus on winning or at least surviving, but I was realizing that holding a struggling woman in a pinning hold that was not causing her pain and within mutually accepted was a sensual experience, like it or not. I liked it. This time I clearly wished she had struggled a little longer but I had foolishly suggested we should submit to pins within ten to twenty seconds.
We took a break, talked a bit and drank some water. She was totally relaxed, showing no embarrassment or discomfort at having been pinned twice without having gained any advantage.
"I always start slowly in wrestling to pins," she said. "Mostly people ask for submission wrestling. But I'll get you next time."
And she was true to her word. As I tried to spin to her left to start the next fall, she swung her upper body around and swept me into a side headlock. It was tight. I'll never understand how a full, soft breast could feel so hard. She could have forced a submission quickly with the headlock alone, but we weren't after submissions. Slowly she forced me to my side and then on my back but with her weight on her side I was able to keep either my right or left shoulder well off the mat depending on how she moved. So she went for the kill. Releasing my head, she pulled my arms straight over my head before I could react, brought her right leg over so she straddled my waist, and dropped her full weight on me - my face trapped in the valley between her breasts. I'm sure you'll think I'm crazy but I was really trying to escape. Not possible. I couldn't even turn my head to the side let alone lift a shoulder. With her legs spread to each side, Malibu had her weight perfectly entered. It would have taken someone a hell of a lot stronger than me to bull his or her way out. I couldn't bridge, my arms were uselessly stretched above me, and my efforts to push up with my legs didn't even get my butt off the mat. I was helpless and loving it, but kept on struggling. Much too soon I heard her say softly, "I'd say you're pinned." She may have realized it would never have occurred to me to give up.
On the whole I won more than I lost, but I also won every time I lost. Malibu was wonderful in trying different approaches. She pinned me once with an angled cross body hold that had my face trapped under her right thigh and another time with a reverse straddle much like my second pin but higher up on my body so my face was flattened under her crotch. What was most exciting to me was getting caught in those holds while wrestling full out. Being dominated by the strength of a woman's body in an even contest with no resorting to pressure points, pain or great technical superiority was just what I was looking for. We spent a half hour to forty five minutes of pin wrestling (by the clock, not continuous wrestling - at the pace of the action I would have died without a few breaks; they were a bit longer than I wanted but I couldn't tell whether she was breaking for me or for her and didn't ask; she's a nice person to talk with anyway). Then I offered to try submission wrestling. I was surprised that I was able to force two submissions to her one, but then I had been such a wuss in expressing concern about injuries that I think she was afraid to try anything but scissors holds. I don't think I actually forced her to submit - she was too strong for either my stomach scissors or bearhug to cause pain and I wouldn't have been comfortable using any twisting sort of holds though I tried to pressure a headlock and stretch an arm straight out. It was more a matter of wearing her down (or maybe boring her) to submission. On the other hand the submission she gained was clearly forced. I had established that her stomach scissors was not strong enough to cause a submission but got careless and found myself down by her legs. I had known from the moment I saw her that if I got my head caught between those thighs, it would end as soon as she wanted it to. Once or twice during the pin wrestling I had attempted to turn her with a leg pull and found them to be immovable so I had stuck to upper body work as much as possible. But suddenly there I was, my legs immobolized under her left side, my left arm pit resting on her left thigh and my right arm trying to keep her right leg from closing over me. Believe me, my arm was no match for Malibu's leg. She toyed with me for a bit as we both knew I was doomed. Eventually though she locked it over, reached down with her right arm and cinched it up in a figure four. She was sweet enough to ask if I was ready to give before she started applying any real pressure. I admitted that I expected to but not until she forced it out of me. She tightened the noose. I pulled as hard as I could with my right arm to release the pressure but got no release. Instead she began to pour it on and I had no choice but to tap out. I was afraid to ask how much of her strength she had actually used as I guessed there was a lot more in there.
We finished with a couple of tests to see if she could hold me in a school boy pin. First she sat on my chest leaned over me and held my hands to the ground. I was able to force her hands up fairly easily but again that weight evenly distributed was tough to move. Finally I managed to free my arms long enough to push straight back on her stomach and she tumpled backward. Then she straddled my face, thighs pressed against the side of my cheeks and crotch firmly against my chin. I looked up at her smiling down at me, and waited for her to say "go" - hoping she might forget to do so. We both knew that sitting that high might fulfill many a boys' dreams, but it was no way to hold a man down who was trying to get away. With her legs that close together and her weight pretty much vertical, it didn't take long before I was able to throw her off balance. She then slipped me into a stomach scissors and put me in a side headlock. While she had me set up for an easy submission, she cradled my head rather than pressuring or squeezing it - again putting my concerns above her victories.
Indeed Malibu impressed me in many ways. She is competitive but has nothing to prove - the sign of an athlete at peace with herself, in no need of building an ego at the cost of someone else's. It's hard to assess her wrestling skill as I couldn't tell how much she was holding back. She certainly made me believe I was winning on my own and both she and Josephine had said smaller men with quickness, stamina, flexibility and athletic strength are tougher for them than macho guys who expect to overwhelm with brute strength. But I never got the sense Malibu was working hard to exploit the strength of her legs or headlocks. Maybe she didn't know how, maybe she simply sensed that I was enjoying the way it was going. Probably the latter. She was completely at ease with any suggestions I made, though my interests are obviously quite tame in relation to what some might ask. Perhaps most importantly to anyone who is thinking about a session with her, I felt absolutely safe at all times. I simply could not imagine her hurting anyone through intention, carelessness, or loss of self control.
What a good time. Definitely worth the wait. Now who to start working on for next year?