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Old 15-Jun-18, 16:28
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Default Re: Wrestling with Kelly - A supposedly fun thing I'll never do again

After being totally dominated by Kelly in an increasingly cruel way, I began to question how healthy it was for my ego to continually surrender to my fantasy time and time again when every time, that same fantasy led to later feelings of degradation and shame. Of course that was after the fact: while underneath her having my body mauled it was bliss.

At times I thought, ‘Well, maybe we can just wrestle and I can keep from feeling ashamed”. Unfortunately, it looked as though that ship had sailed. We were operating under her fantasy rules now, not mine, and hers apparently included humiliation. It wasn’t enough to defeat me, she had to ensure I realized how one-sided our battles had become and throw in a little verbal taunting as well, telling me how she so completely controlled my body, how little I could do to resist. It was almost as though the worse she made me feel the better she made herself feel.

Which made me wonder, and not for the first time, what exactly her deal was. What did she get out of dominating me? Vindication? Revenge? Independence? It wasn’t an orgasm, that’s for sure. The only clue I had was her grim smile of satisfaction after turning me into a puddle, like she was confirming a suspicion she had; that she was superior.

It was all guesswork on my part. She steadfastly refused to tell me about past relationships, or where she had learned to wrestle, leaving me to speculate. Why the need to establish her superiority? Had her self-esteem taken a hit in the past? I began to think like a detective and piece together what details I knew of her past.

I was thinking about how we first got together. We had three dates, then, she became mysteriously unavailable for a time. I called her a few days after our date and asked her out again but she said she was busy. Okay. I called a few days after that and got the same answer. She seemed like she did want to see me again, so I believed her when she said she had just somehow overbooked herself. A week after that I got the same answer, and the week after that as well. Now almost three weeks had gone by and I was just about ready to give up on her. This was before our first wrestling match, so I didn’t have quite as much incentive to pursue her. But just for the hell of it I figured I’d give it one last chance, called her, and was mildly surprised when she eagerly accepted. That’s the date that turned into our first wrestling match in her bedroom.

I also remembered that when I picked her up something seemed different – then it hit me; the first few times we dated it was winter, and while not really cold compared to most of the country, it had been cold enough for her to wear bulky sweaters and a coat. Then when we finally got together it was quite a bit warmer and she wore normal tops. That’s when I first realized how perfect her breasts were.

Flash forward three years ahead;

We were in bed. I was in the all-too familiar grapevine, my inner thighs shot with streaks of agony and she was propped up above me, surveying my face while I panted in a combination of lust and pain. Right above me were those perfect breasts, tantalizingly out of reach as she toyed with me – lowering herself just enough to for my tongue to graze her nipple then pulling back as I lunged for more. They were so awesome! Why wouldn’t she let me suck on those beautiful boobs?! Then from out of nowhere the memory of that fourth date popped into my head and a random thought popped into my head. I stared up at her breasts and said, “You have the most amazing breasts…” She gave a self-satisfied smile that stopped cold when I finished, “You had a boob job, didn’t you?”

Her smile froze in place. “Why do you say that?”

“That’s not an answer. That’s what you had done when we first met, didn’t you? In those three weeks you wouldn’t see me.”

She didn’t say anything but her grapevine tightened imperceptibly. She continued to stare down at me in silence. I read in her look that I was approaching an area of conversation she definitely did not want to pursue. “That’s ridiculous,” she said.

Now it all made sense: her claiming to be ultra-sensitive in that area was bullshit. She was afraid that if I spent too much time kissing them I’d find out she had fake boobs! Time after time she had been on top of me, her perfect breasts dangling just out of reach. I would strain my neck up and try to get my lips onto her nipples and she would chuckle at my attempts, seemingly proud of the reaction her breasts aroused but keeping them safe from my touch. When we were kissing and I did manage to touch them, after just a few-second caress she would then cause a diversion and her boobs were off-limits again.

I was a chump!

For someone who demanded total and complete honesty from me this was extreme hypocrisy. “Well?” I said.

She didn’t answer and lowered her head, pushing my face to the side and plunging her tongue into my ear. Instantly I was aroused. “Wait... wait,” I gasped, “tell me…”

Instead of answering she increased her assault on my neck and ear, whispering, “Tell you what? That you like this? You like my tongue in your ear?”

“Stop... tell me… I want you to tell me…”

“I know what you want, “she whispered, her voice echoing in my head, “You want me to fuck you, don’t you?”

I could only gasp in reply, her sudden aggression blindingly sexy. Her hips slammed into me. Louder, into my ear she said, “DON’T you?”

She was overpowering, pressing her body against mine, rubbing her breasts against my chest.

“Yes,” I whispered in return.

“Say it,” she ordered.

“Fuck me…”

“Beg me.”

“Please,” I half-whispered.

Her hands squeezed mine tightly, her lips fastened onto my neck, her sharp teeth nipping at me. Down below I could feel her hips rubbing against mine, her pussy seeking my cock.

My heart was in my mouth. This was my ultimate, unspoken fantasy; to be held down and fucked by a sexy, powerful woman while I struggled against it. Could she do it? Could she fuck me if I didn’t want her to? Could she… rape me?

She released me from the grapevine, lifted her legs and straddled me, shifting her weight and bearing down on me, her face buried in my neck, arms wrapped tightly against me, angling for better leverage. Her hips couldn’t quite position themselves over the tip of my cock without letting go of my hands to reach down and insert my cock into her pussy. I could feel her vulva grinding against me like a cock-seeking weapon. Almost against my will, I found myself shifting my hips to aid her. Then – it was done.

Her vagina found the tip of my cock and slid down, suddenly enveloping me in the silky tight wetness of her cunt. She had done it – she had mounted me and was fucking me against my will. She pumped her hips and began pounding against me ruthlessly, the headboard banging against the wall with the power of her thrusts. She was slamming against me in a way I had never been allowed to do to her, while I lay under her gulping air desperately with each thrust.

She raised her head and glared down triumphantly, biting her bottom lip. “How.. do.. you.. like.. this?” she panted, accenting each word with a thrust.

My head was whipping from side to side, eyes clenched shut. A wave of sensation washed over me then turned into a flood, a flood of incredible, acute physical pleasure that heightened and increased second by second. I had no control whatsoever, completely at her mercy. The incredible sensation ratcheted up dramatically, higher and higher…

I and was in full sensory overload and couldn’t take it anymore, the pleasure so intense I could no longer distinguish it from pain. “Stop!” I gasped, “Stop! Stop!”

She tossed her hair out of her eyes and looked down, confused.

“Please… stop…” I was openly begging now.

She finally stopped, my cock still pulsating inside her. “What is it? Am I hurting you?”

“I don’t know…”

She frowned angrily, then pulled off me. A final spasm wracked me as her tight cunt slid off and she said. “What do you mean you don’t know? What happened? What’s the matter?”

I struggled to regain my breath, winded from shudders of overwhelming sensation. “I don’t know. It was too much, like I was hyper-sensitive or something. I couldn’t take it, it was unbearable. It felt good then it hurt, I think. I couldn’t breathe…”

Her lips tightened into a thin line. She said, “You know what your problem is? You don’t know what you want.”

“What do you mean?”

Seated atop me she leaned over me, her face inches above mine, “You want me to fuck you, then you don’t want me to fuck you. You want me to wrestle you down but you don’t want to feel inferior. You want me to dominate you, but don’t want me telling you what to do. Which is it? What do you WANT?” She was as angry as I’d ever seen her now, her hands squeezing mine painfully. Disgusted, she let go and rolled off me, flopping onto her back next to me.

We both lay there staring up at the ceiling in silence. After a few moments she suddenly sat up and got out of bed, roughly throwing on her clothes.

I propped myself up on my elbows. “Where are you going?”

“I think we need to take a break,” she said, buttoning her blouse.

I took that in and looked at her, growing angry. “What about you? What do you want? You tell me you love me but you spend more time with Trish. You say you like it here by the beach but you want me to move to L.A. and get a better-paying job. You tell me you want me to be open and honest with you but you hide the fact you bought fake boobs! You call that honesty?”

She jabbed a finger at me. “Don’t try to change the subject. You’re a psychological mess. You’re stuck in your little job rut and will never, never, change. You will never improve.” She finished dressing, snatched up her purse and turned to face me. “Well, I want more. I want a nice house, a nice car, I want to travel… and you don’t know what the hell you want! You want something called “Happiness”, whatever that is. Well, I don’t have the patience to wait while you try to make up your mind. Let me know when you figure it out.” She stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

I fell back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling again, taking in everything she had spat out.

She had a point.

The Ice Age set in. She stopped coming over to spend the night. Week after week went by without any contact. Finally I broke and called her. She was noticeably cool and said she had been very busy, but that we would get together soon. That irked me and I vowed I wasn’t going to knuckle under and call her again. A few more weeks went by.

Before I had time to process it, almost two months had gone by with only sporadic conversation and nothing of substance uttered by either one of us. It looked as though we were breaking up. Was it really going to go down this way, after more than three years?

Eventually, I called her and said I had some things of hers and asked if she would she like me to bring them by. “Okay, thanks,” she said, “I’ll be at Trish’s office tomorrow evening if you want to swing by.” She sounded good. I felt my pulse quickening at the prospect of seeing her again. “I’ll see you then,” I said.

Trish had opened a small office in a strip mall in West L.A., a neighborhood Kelly had long been pestering me to check out. I knew real estate prices were on the rise and it was currently a buyer’s market, but as I headed east on Santa Monica Boulevard I was even more certain I did not want to leave the beach. The closer to the coast the more people were more relaxed; there was no smog, no freeway logjams… it was just a better quality of life. Unless, of course, you wanted to conquer the world.

As I pulled into the parking lot just off of La Cienega, Kelly saw my car and came outside to meet me. I came to a stop and she leaned into the open window.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey,” I said back.

We just looked at each other for a few moments. I couldn’t help noticing that she had put on about ten pounds and the purple dress that had fitted her perfectly a couple of months ago was now almost bursting at the seams with her bust and hips markedly bigger. I tried to imagine what it would feel like having ten additional pounds of Kelly laying naked on top of me, grape vining my legs and sticking her tongue in my ear. She was the sexiest fucking thing I had ever seen – a squeezable, curvy Amazon that I immediately wanted to get naked with.

“You want to get a drink somewhere?” she asked huskily.

Not trusting my voice, I nodded and she went around to the other side and got in.

We went to a Mexican restaurant down the street and had a couple of margaritas, our defenses down, both of us aware of the connection that still remained between us. After an hour or so I took her back to Trish’s office. Still in the car she leaned over to give me a peck on the lips but before we knew it we were panting and kissing feverishly, her soft lips covering my face with lipstick, one hand gripping the back of my neck like a C-clamp and her other hand caressing my now-erect cock. We were both so turned on we would have fucked right there in the front seat if I hadn’t had bucket seats. She finally pushed me away and said she had to leave, fussing to get her hair back in place.

“Can you come over tonight?” I practically pleaded. She bit her lower lip and seemed to think it over before shaking her head.

“Not tonight. I’ll call you though, okay?”

I nodded so eagerly I probably looked like a bobble head. Then I watched her smooth her dress over her thighs and sway back inside, mesmerized by her curves. Finally tearing my eyes off her spectacular ass I glanced up and saw Trish standing behind the plate glass window, watching me with her arms folded across her chest. She was frowning. As Kelly entered they faced each other and I could see them talking rapidly. I couldn’t hear a word but from their mouths moving it seemed like a pretty heated conversation, like Trish was telling her what a dumbass she was for getting involved with me again. I backed out of the parking space and drove away.

Kelly didn’t call that night or the next 100 nights. I left her numerous messages on her answering machine, but none were returned. As month turned into more months I faced the reality that we were pretty much through. I felt a pang as I faced the fact that I would never wrestle that big naked girl again.

God Damn it!

Eventually, the lust subsided and I allowed myself to come to grips that, what we had was gone, and I was better off. Hell, yeah! I was way better off! I was my own man, a free thinker. I could do what I want! A normal relationship with a normal girl – a girl that couldn’t kick my ass and make me do crazy things I would deeply regret later.

It was with extremely mixed feelings that the months slipped by and I reconciled myself with the fact that it was over. Then, out of the blue, I got a call from her.

“Hey,” she said, “I’m having a party next week. Can you come?”

Heart beating as fast as a rabbit, I said yes and she gave me an address in a pricey neighborhood. Evidently, she had moved.

A week later, I drove up a winding uphill driveway in the Hollywood Hills that led to a single-story mini-mansion overlooking Los Angeles. There was valet parking and a fairly large group of people all converging on the same point. It looked like it was going to be quite a party. I made my way inside looking for her and not seeing anybody I knew, not even Trish or David, which I thought strange. Finally I found her on the patio, surrounded by a small group of people. Startled, I realized that one of them was a fairly well-known actor who had established himself as a B-movie action hero. He had his arm around Kelly. Seeing me, she spoke briefly to the actor and broke away to come greet me.

“How have you been?” she asked. She looked stunning, even more so than usual. She had lost the weight she had put on the last time I saw her and looked like she fit right in with the rest of the crowd, who, now that I looked around, seemed to all be movie-people types. They were mostly young, attractive, and had that hungry, on-the-prowl look.

“I’ve been okay,” I said, “Nice place. You live here?”

She bit her bottom lip and nodded, searching my eyes for a reaction.

I inclined my head towards the guy she had just left. “With the actor?”

She raised her chin. “Yes.”

“So, you’re with him now?”

She hesitated, then nodded again. “Yes. I met him at the hotel. We’ve been going out for a couple of months.”

“I see.” I didn’t know what to say after that. If I was looking for an official end to the relationship I guess this was it. I wondered why she had invited me. “I really don’t know anyone here,” I said after a moment of staring at each other wordlessly, “I think I’m going to go.”

She reached out and put her hand on my arm. “Don’t. Stay a while, you might meet someone interesting.”

“I don’t think so. I’m not feeling too sociable right now.”

She squeezed my arm. “There’s a girl here I go to the gym with, her name’s Shelley. You might like her, she’s pretty strong.”

My brain locked up. Was she trying to set me up with someone? Some weightlifter?

She saw the confusion on my face. “I… I just want you to be happy,” she said.

I honestly think she meant it, but it was too weird for me. I still had a lot of emotional baggage I had to deal with and meeting someone new just seemed like a lot of work. “I appreciate you thinking of me,” I said drily, “but I really ought to go now.”

She sighed. “I was afraid you’d say that. Come on, I’ll walk you out.”

My worked our way through the crowd inside the house and out to the street. Pausing on the front steps I fished the valet stub out of my pocket and said, “I guess this is goodbye, then.”

She was standing on a step above me and for a moment we were eye-to-eye. In an all-too-familiar gesture, she took the back of my neck and pulled my face in, kissing me deeply and dredging up painful memories of how soft her lips were. I pulled away before I lost myself in her again. Why was she making it harder?

She tightened her hand on the back of my neck, her lips next to my ear. “We could still see each other,” she whispered, a chill shooting down my spine remembering the strength of her grip.

I pulled away from her, insulted. “As your guy on the side? Is that what you’re saying?”

She dropped her hand. “We have chemistry together. You know it and I know it. Why not keep it going?”

She was serious, which made me realize how different we really were. Apparently I wasn’t fulfilling enough for her to make a commitment, but an interesting diversion for when she was in the mood. Not exactly the kind of relationship I needed. “I don’t think so,” I said.

She looked around to make sure no one was in hearing distance. “I can keep Nick down with my legs, but it’s not the same. I miss seeing how excited you get. Don’t you want that feeling again?”

“Not like that,” I said. Then I turned and walked away, hoping that I was salvaging the last of my pride but feeling like I was really torpedoing the last chance I would ever have to reach that sense of euphoria she had once given me.

And that was the last time I saw Kelly.


A puzzling footnote: about a year later I was leaving a restaurant in West Hollywood with a date and I ran into David. Surprise showed on his face but he recovered quickly and we chatted for a few moments before moving on. The thing that was puzzling to me was that he wasn’t with Trish – he was with a group of three other guys, and all were obviously gay. You can’t live in Southern California without developing a gay-dar. I mean, I didn’t care what his sexuality was, but running into it suddenly made me wonder what in the hell was his relationship with Trish? She had to know. And if she knew, Kelly had to know.

I’m still trying to figure that out. In the meantime, I dated a few other girls and eventually met the one I would marry. It’s been over twenty years and we’re pretty happy. We don’t wrestle at all, it’s something that doesn’t interest my wife at all, and to be honest, I’m not sure I want that from her. She’s a good mother, a good wife and an all-around pretty conservative person. My fantasy life is completely separate.


I don’t think of Kelly too much – only every day for the last twenty years.
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  #42  
Old 15-Jun-18, 17:28
frankyb frankyb is offline
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Default Re: Wrestling with Kelly - A supposedly fun thing I'll never do again

Man you're a good writer...every guy knows the emotions in a break up and you did a good job conveying it. Always nostslgic to think of what happened to old flames, i wish most werent on social media these days to keep the thought more ephemeral.
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  #43  
Old 15-Jun-18, 21:57
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Default Re: Wrestling with Kelly - A supposedly fun thing I'll never do again

You said it. As each year passes that memory becomes more precious, but I don't want to ruin it by meeting her again. Although...
She does have a Facebook account and her photo looks as though she could still be a handful. Also, she lives in a multi-million dollar house and is on her third marriage.
Not that I've checked it out or anything.
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  #44  
Old 15-Jun-18, 22:35
frankyb frankyb is offline
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Default Re: Wrestling with Kelly - A supposedly fun thing I'll never do again

Hahaha nobody would blame you if you ever were tempted to snoop. This story was too real...wasn't ready for feels man. Thanks for the personal story. Now I hope you know she read this and will be hunting you down.
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Old 18-Jun-18, 12:32
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Default Re: Wrestling with Kelly - A supposedly fun thing I'll never do again

Oh my! This is seriously an outstanding story! One of the best I've ever read. The characters, the narrative, all are told masterfully. I love the ambiguity of her character, as well as of your own desires. Appreciate that some things are still left for interpretation.

Regarding the "grapevine from bottom", Jennifer Thomas loves to use it. I was amused to read about it in the story, since, coincidentally, I started paying attention to it quite recently, as it appeared in some of the new FP videos. Here it is:

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  #46  
Old 18-Jun-18, 23:35
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Default Re: Wrestling with Kelly - A supposedly fun thing I'll never do again

Zweig - thank you. I almost thought you'd given up on my stories!
I would like to point out though, that much to my chagrin, and I know you've heard it a hundred times, that except for a few minor details this is all true.
Probably why it seems ambiguous - life can be messy.

Good to know the grapevine from underneath wasn't a figment of my imagination. Jennifer looks like she knows how to use it to great effect.
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Old 19-Jun-18, 01:14
frankyb frankyb is offline
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Default Re: Wrestling with Kelly - A supposedly fun thing I'll never do again

Did she ever scissor you? Sounds like she'd have a devastating scissors, maybe were lucky there!
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Old 19-Jun-18, 22:59
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Default Re: Wrestling with Kelly - A supposedly fun thing I'll never do again

She scissored my thigh once, which I listed under 'Minor Humiliations' on page 4, but I wasn't about to let that happen again. Besides, her grapevine was so effective she probably never felt the need to try anything else.
Would you ask Steph Curry to stop shooting threes?
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Old 04-Nov-18, 22:24
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Default Re: Wrestling with Kelly - A supposedly fun thing I'll never do again

“I don’t think of Kelly too much – only every day for the last twenty years.”

Those are haunting words, dude. ... amazing story BTW. Almost too slack-jawed to leave a comment.
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Old 05-Nov-18, 18:14
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Default Re: Wrestling with Kelly - A supposedly fun thing I'll never do again

Hey,thanks!
Writing about that took a lot out of me. Even though a lot of time has passed, and I was obviously caught up in living out a fantasy, I still can't escape the fact that I had my ass kicked regularly - by a girl!
Really put a dent in my theories about the meaning of masculinity.

I'd damn sure do it again, though.
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