by Zeke [email protected]
A competitive session ... well maybe not that competitive
Why was I doing this for a third time? Watching women wrestling, really wrestling, had been a turn-on for me for as long as I could remember and to wrestle a woman had been a dream for nearly as long. But I'd put out a lot of money to wrestle Josephine in San Francisco in 97 and Malibu in LA in 98. It hadn't been erotic either time in the simplistic sense of producing an erection. Nor had I ever substituted the memories for videos or photo downloads from the web to stimulate the single handed sexual activity that kept me happy with the much more than satisfactory but only once a week sex life I enjoy with my wife.
It's not that I wasn't attracted to Josephine and Malibu, two great women in quite different ways. No, the problem is that in the moral code that has been stamped into my soul, it is totally inappropriate to use a woman I know well for sexual fantasizing.
You can't know someone well in an hour and a half, you say? What if, in that time, you've agreed to place complete trust in each other knowing that you will be in positions where either could physically hurt or molest the other with ease, knowing that hands and legs may rub across genitals, your face may be pressed into her breast, and hers may be caught between your legs, knowing that a loss of control could quickly break a wrist, dislocate a shoulder or strain a neck. In that time you will embrace them more tightly than you ever have a lover with the intent to know their strength and their skill and overcome it or be overcome by it. As cleanly scrubbed and scented as you both may be, within minutes you will be smelling each other's body's scent as it seeps out with the sweat of the contest. Indeed holds will become more difficult as your drenched bodies slide across each other. And you will win or lose or draw and laugh and chat and go at it again and again until the time is spent. By that time, in your mind you will be bonded for life.
Yes, I know. You may well disappear from her mind minutes after you walk out the door, but your sense of connection is so real that fact is inconceivable. And of course if you have not antagonized your partner, perhaps even provided a laugh or two or an interesting workout in addition to a substantial sum, she is going to leave you with a last gentler embrace and encouragement to come back again. And the only way to recreate the experience is to do just that.
So there I was again. This time in New Jersey, knocking on Ziggy's door. I knew she was supposed to be a remarkably talented wrestler - on everyone's A list for technical skill and athletic strength per pound. But she's five inches shorter and ten pounds lighter than me and while I'm not ripped I'm still a well conditioned athlete. I'd learned a good deal from my previous matches. I knew I didn't want pain - no submission matches for me, pins only but in a nontechnical sense of holding one on their back until they admit they aren't going to be able to escape. None of this quick three count or stalling forever with a shoulder blade an eighth of an inch off the mat. In fact, no stalling at all - either try to escape or try to get the pin but don't just spread out on the floor refusing to budge or be content to rest with a controlling hold. I want to pin or be pinned - hopefully a healthy mixture.
Ziggy opened the door. She is prettier than the few pictures I'd seen. Small boned, pale skin, no signs of body fat - an incredibly in shape look reminiscent of the smaller World Cup winning women's soccer players. In order to weigh around 140 pounds at her height and with her build, she had to be very muscular but in a knee length summer robe/jacket, loosely tied, and slippers she didn't look at all intimidating. Her auburn hair fell across her high cheek bones setting off her steely blue eyes. Like Josephine the eyes locked on like laser sensors and I again felt I'd been completely assessed and dismissed as a threat in a split second.
"You're on time." She may be moving to Florida, but she'll always sound New Jersey. To me it's a harsh accent, slightly annoying and overly aggressive. But it was a friendly comment. A minute of small talk later I was in her bathroom stripping to my wrestling shorts. She was more inclined to move right to the mats than Josephine or Malibu had been, but that was fine with me. I knew we'd chat between falls and it would be easier anyway once contact had been established. A good tussle on the mat is a great ice breaker.
Then I was standing on the mat. A little disappointing as while the floor was completely covered, it was quite a small room with floor level heating vents along one wall. But Ziggy was stunning. She'd lost the robe and slippers and was wearing about as brief a two piece as you could get without going to a thong. She had a sprinter's legs and a well developed but nicely proportioned upper body. She didn't have what I thought of as the body builder look. Her body screamed ATHLETE.
"Is it ok with you if we start on our knees?" I asked. This had been covered in a couple of brief phone conversations, but it's always best to re-establish the parameters before getting started. "I'm not interested in getting flipped around."
"No problem. It's a good idea in a room this size."
We leaned into each other.
"And you do remember this is pins only?"
"Oh, really. That's right. I'd forgotten." At that point I re-established all the parameters. Face it. I'm not into pain or injury, and I haven't found that either is necessary to have a great time wrestling to exhaustion. She seemed quite comfortable with the stipulations, especially when I agreed to allow headlocks and scissors and other such holds as long as they were used only for control and moving towards a pin and not for inflicting punishment.
"Don't worry. I'm into wrestling, not into hurting anyone."
Then we were off. I'd been pleased that I had started well against both Josephine and Malibu. It won me some respect right off. Unfortunately, in the time it took me to write those two sentences, Ziggy had feinted to my right, pushed my head forward and down with her right fore arm as she leaped to my left side, caught me in a half nelson with her left arm, and forced me to dive flat on the mat to avoid being flipped over for a ten second pin. My desperation leap had pulled me out of the half nelson but she immediately straddled my back pushing my face down on the mat with her right forearm. I got my arms underneath me and pushed myself up off the mat successfully fending off her attempts to get the half nelson back. She dropped a little lower behind me and grabbed me in a bear hug around my stomach - known I think in wrestling circles as a gut wrench. I could hear her giving quick little puffs of breath. A vision came to me of being with my wife in labor helping (haplessly) her to get through each contraction with hee hee breathing. Then my contractions began as she cinched it in a couple of times lifting me off the mat each time. Yes, this was one strong little package of woman. While I avoided being rolled over, I couldn't avoid dropping my head forward each time she jerked me up. Suddenly, she followed the gut wrench with a quick leap to my left, tucked her head under my shoulder and pushed forward and over. In a more even world, I might have thought to clamp on a head lock and roll into her. But Ziggy would have had to be moving a lot slower to make this close to an even world. I tried to keep moving to my right to avoid going over and was successful for one tight little circle. Then I was over, sitting up with my arms behind me keeping my back off the mat. Her legs scissored my left leg as she lay across me jerking my head forward with her left arm eliciting a yelp and a "too hard". She let up immediately on the pressure but as I shifted on my left side so that I could reach up with my right arm to free my head, she released my neck, moved further up my body, slid her arm under mine behind my head and grabbed the top of my left shoulder with her hand. My right arm was now pointing uselessly towards the wall behind me and my chin was once again pressed against my chest. She rested for a moment, let out a couple of quick breaths, then jerked my left arm forward so my shoulders dropped to the mat. I tried to push against her chin with my arm but in short order she had it stretched out to my left. So that was it. I tested each possible movement - arms immobilized, unable to bridge except with my shoulders, right leg stretched in the scissors, left leg free. Hey. An opening. Oops. As I'd started to push off with it, the scissors were traded in for a grapevine. Nothing painful, but my legs were now as useless as my other extremities
It may have taken a minute. I was shocked and embarassed. Sure she was going to pin me. I expected that. But not so quickly. I wriggled as best I could. I tried pelvic thrusts, hoping to bounce something free. I focussed all my strength on my right arm trying to force her arm down to loosen the grip which kept my head forward and my shoulders so tightly pressed to the floor. I tried to rock from side to side. Absolute futility. If her goal had been to let me know I was out of my league, she certainly had accomplished it. And done so with a total absence of trash talking or overt intimidation. Pure physical domination. I strained against it - which only amplified the sense of helplessness.
Ziggy didn't laugh or count or ask if I gave up. For all I could tell she had fallen asleep. Since her body was pressed against mine, I could feel her breathing easily but since the back of her head was resting against mine I couldn't make any eye contact. We'd agreed on pins to submission, so the call was mine. Nothing to be gained from refusing to give.
"O.K. I'm pinned."
She released me immediately with a satisfied smile. The exertion had stimulated her competitive juices and my guess was that she gained a good deal of satisfaction every time she demonstrated her superiority. But she didn't flaunt it. Sort of a private "yes!" and an extra bounce to her step. At least she was sweating. Even went to get a fan. A very little private "yes" for me as I'd at least made her expend some energy.
"So I see why you're a legend."
"Ah yes, the little underground world of women's wrestling." Her laugh had an ironic lilt to it. She had become remarkably skilled in a sport not acceptable to the general public. Her only way to gain anything other than personal satisfaction was to demonstrate her talent to strange men in secret contests. Later I asked her if she'd be interested in the Olympics if they opened wrestling as a women's sport. Clearly she was intrigued and had given it thought, but how could she afford to give up three years for training - where would she be when it was over?
But back to the mats. During the remainder of our session, I was pinned in a number of ways though never close to as quickly as in the first fall. I don't know how much of that was do to my providing stiffer competition and how much was her relaxing her efforts. A little of both and perhaps even more a decision on her part to vary her attack modes. There were more than a few times when I actually had a significant advantage, once early on when I thought I might be headed for a victory. That was in fact in the second fall which may well have been the longest. She'd again taken me down on my stomach, but this time I was able to roll her on her back as she held me in a gut wrench. I arched high attempting to put her back down on the mat and maintained what I considered to be a decided advantage. I couldn't tell how close she was to being pinned according to free style rules but knew that she was in no danger of having to concede that she couldn't escape. Still it was a rush to feel her body under mine, choosing to believe it was under my control.
Following my mandate to keep moving towards victory, I twisted my torso around until she released her hold, then slipped my left arm under her head and my right wrist locked on my left hand under her right arm, my head on her right shoulder. This I knew to be a strongly advantageous position. A pin was within my grasp. Ziggy unfortunately was not thinking along the same lines - a pin maybe but not within my grasp. As I raised my butt shifting more weight forward to increase my control, she shot her right arm between my legs, her left on the back of my neck and actually flipped me over in a very high forward role. I was absolutely in shock as I felt myself elevated - more than a little concerned about where I was going to land. On my back - I should have known. She then spun her body around above my head and locked me in a reverse headlock judo hold down move. Her head was on my chest, my cheek flattened to her chest just above her breasts as I looked into a real close up view of her right arm. Her body spread wide above my head to maintain balance as I struggled to escape. Lots of aimless flailing later, I had to admit again that I was helpless. Again a quick release, a pat on my chest, a bounce up and she was in full smile, pulling her hair back with satisfaction.
"That was a good one," she said. I took that as a strong compliment since I realized it was probably as good as I was going to be able to do.
In fact I got to be quite good at that. Another time as I again lay helpless under a full body press - very erotic hold when you look back at it but not when you're trying to escape and there is no erotic intent on the part of either wrestler (a promise to my wife and what I certainly felt was an expectation of Ziggy's), I said, "I imagine you could hold me here the rest of the day."
"Does that mean you want me to or does that mean you want to give up?" she replied, making it clear without any sort of threat or mockery that those were the two options open to me.
Ziggy was fun. She was also thoughtful. She provided towels and fruit and a variety of drinks. She let me determine the length of breaks. She made it clear I could set any rules I wanted or even to change to boxing or stop for a massage. Lord knows my upper back and neck were in need of one. Noting me massaging myself between falls she mentioned that stiff necks pretty much went along with wrestling. She was curious about my interest in wrestling and spoke freely of her experience and her intention on becoming a nurse. She made me feel better about my inability to gain a fall by commenting that I was one of the few men close to her size that she had wrestled. Mostly she said those who wanted to wrestle were thirty or forty pounds heavier. And she still won a lot more than she lost.
But above all, she was an awesome talent. About midway through as we started to lock up, I pulled back. "What am I supposed to do?" I asked. "I mean every time we start you have me on the defensive within ten seconds."
"Well, here. You should be locking up with one arm on the back of my neck and the other holding my elbow." (A distant memory of "collar and elbow" from junior high days came back to me - and I do mean that's distant).
She was very serious now, trying to explain exactly what she did. Furrowed brow, eyes focussed inward. "Basically, you either try to pull my head down and get behind me or pull me into a headlock or you fake that and when you feel me resisting you release and come at me low."
For the remainder of the time she would cheer for me when I did something positive and give me further tips on improvement - after she'd negated my good move and pinned me again. I tried the pull down and dive technique and drove her backwards with my shoulder into her stomach - not a soft stomach by the way, arms around her derriere. She kept her legs well behind her, grabbed me in a reverse bearhug and then used my continued forward drive to help lift me off the ground, back over her head so I landed still in her arms on my ass behind her. Continuing in one smooth motion she released her hold spun to the side trapping my left arm in a scissors, falling across my chest as she grabbed my right wrist in her hands and pulled that arm straight out as well. Before I was finished remarking to myself about how well I had done with the feint and dive move, I was again immobilized, kissing her side which was pressing my head to the mat.
Later I tried the headlock move with a good deal of success but again she went with my momentum and let it carry me all the way over her body so I had to release the hold to escape a sort of reverse roll up pin. Eventually, I was firmly pinned in a cross body press. Since I could turn my head, I was able to observe her expression as she responded to my various escape attempts. It never varied. Mouth a bit open to facilitate the rythmic breath, lips curled up slightly in an impish smile, a twinkle in her eyes. There was no hint of recognition that I was trying to escape. It was if we were old dance partners. I was leading; she was effortlessly turning my awkward leads into harmonic movements through her immediate adjustments. And she was relishing the effortless control her body had over mine.
"Tell me honestly, now Ziggy. Do you think you're killing me because of technique or do you think you're stronger than me as well?"
"Technique and experience," she replied without hesitation. "We may be the same strength, you may be a little stronger, I may be a little stronger. But there's not enough difference to change the outcome. And you're athletic and have a good sense of body awareness. But you have to think about what you're doing so by the time you do it I already know what I'm going to do to counter it. And you don't know how to use your strength. When I put you in a headlock, you're strong enough to pick me up and roll me over just like I do to you, but you never think to do that."
A bit later I tried it. As I lifted her over she said "That's it, great move." Not one, however, that she didn't counter immediatley.
To keep it interesting she showed me several pinning combinations and had me try them on her. One, the judo reverse headlock hold down she had used earlier, actually worked and she conceded after a short time. Not that I doubted she would have found a way to escape had there been some money riding on the fall. Another, the cross body pin, almost led to my demise. As I followed her instructions to set the hold properly she had me pull the arm I was scissoring as tight into my crotch as possible. When I gave her the signal to make her escape attempt, she immediately pulled up hard on that arm. I was focussed on holding the pin not on having a bicep suddenly rubbing hard into my testicles and let out a yelp. She burst into laughter and apologized. I told her it was fine, just not what I was expecting and we continued. Again she reversed far too quickly and worked my into a cradle pin.
In a further attempt to maintain her interest and enhance my experience I asked at about the half way point that she not repeat a pinning hold. She readily agreed to accept the challenge. The only thing she tried that she couldn't pull off (although the cradle was right at the end and was a quick count) was a school girl pin. She came reasonably close once but I was able to turn to the side, saying "No way you're going to get me with that one."
She didn't try again and looking back I wonder if she thought I didn't want her to do it. Too bad. I think it would be great if someone could. But despite her skimpy outfit and a total disregard to the unavoidable touching of body parts, I think she's too serious about what she does and/or uncomfortable with using what have to be considered primarily erotic holds like school girl pins or breast smothers. Her preference or her understanding of mine, I don't know which. But either she was being considerate of my feelings or she was maintaining her internal standards as an athlete. Both are admirable actions.
As always for me the end came too soon, though I'm sure it came well after the allotted hour was up. And then she threw in a short massage while we cooled down. It was the only thing she tried that didn't have a strong impact on me. My upper back and neck remained stiff for the next two days. Then I showered, dressed, hugged and gave her a fatherly kiss - I am old - and the session was history.
I'd love to wrestle her again. I wish I could get better as I think she would enjoy more of a challenge. She got a good physical work out but I'm sure it did nothing to enhance her wrestling skills.
So I'm three for three in my women wrestling career. Three great experiences. Three women I remember fondly and wish the best for. Three who were kind enough to make me think they enjoyed the experience as well.
And was it worth the money? I think I'm going to have to try it a few more times before I can answer that question.