Christina -- a true story

[walrus21]

This is a wrestling story, though events unfolded in reverse to most. Instead of an “innocent” wrestling match between people who are dating turning into something sexual, we had been intimate before I let her know about my “interests.”
Christina was an older woman – me, 36; her, 45 – whom I met at work. She had beautiful long, prematurely grey hair and a knockout body. She answered phones for us and had a somewhat imperious, unapproachable air. When I found out she lived in the neighborhood I had moved into, I made a remark about it, and she shut down on me. I thought that she just wasn’t interested, and decided I shouldn’t push it.
But a few weeks later, we warmed to each other and started talking. We both played guitar, and soon I was bringing mine to her apartment. I had been playing a lot longer than her, so she was immediately taken with that, and watched me with great interest. Music has that wonderful quality.
Soon, we started becoming intimate. It was clear she had had some tough times with relationships, and I thought I detected abuse, so I went slow. It was odd to be the one in control in a relationship with an older woman, but it was what it was.
One night we were lying on her bed in our underwear, and I confided in her that I love to have a woman in panties sit on my face. Without hesitation, she got to her knees and swung around, facing away from me. She sat back and straightened herself up, expertly covering my nose and mouth. When I started to squirm, obviously enjoying myself, she read me perfectly and grabbed my wrists, holding them tight to her thighs. I was very much at her mercy in seconds, and she liked it.
Soon we began to wrestle fairly regularly. We worked evenings, and had our mornings free. It was nice to wake up to the sound of her coming up the stairs in my apartment, watching her take off her jeans, and straddle my face, sometimes forward, sometimes backward. We might wrestle a bit, and she was damn strong, but really, I just wanted her on my face.
If I was up and having coffee when she came over, I usually stayed in shorts and, if we didn’t have anywhere to go, we’d get on the living room floor. Soon, we’d be tussling, with her often getting the best of me. I sometimes let her win; sometimes she simply beat me.
On occasion, I would get her down and give her the same treatment. A nice, tight schoolboy pin, her wrists under my shins, and my junk splayed on her face. I love looking down at a woman pinned like that. She’s beaten and tonguing my cock and balls, whatever I give her, with the look of “I’ll get you back for this.”
Mostly though, I enjoyed finding my head trapped between her thighs, with only her ass in my field of vision, and a mouth full of panties. She was an avid bike rider and had a lot of lower-body strength and could hold her own. She also knew what turned me on, and was happy to lock me up and laugh as I struggled.
We decided to go to Niagara Falls one weekend. She drove, and on the drive up, I could not stop staring at her legs. She had on a sundress, with her newly waxed legs mostly exposed. When I hiked up her dress, she smiled and hiked it up more, almost to her crotch.
After getting a bite to eat, we decided on a swim at the hotel pool. When she came out of the bathroom in her one-piece, I told her she HAD to sit on my face. There’s something wonderful about a black, one piece bathing suit on a woman. Designers know this; they shape the lines to accentuate the curves. Watching her ass come down on my face was heaven. She knew this. So she repeated the move a few times.
She was good at subtle domination. She’d ask me questions, knowing I couldn’t answer. She’d say, “Oh my God, you should see this,” as she played with the TV remote. Meantime, I’m pinned under her, playing with her thighs if I can, and taking in the greatest set of pleasures I know. The feeling of her controlling me, being blinded and muffled, and the intoxicating scent of her ass and pussy.
This time, she didn’t make me cum; instead she got off me and said, “Let’s go.”
We went down to the pool after I “subsided.” The pool was a tiny thing, and the two of us were sharing it with some teenagers, who were good kids. We probably didn’t act appropriately, grabbing each other and me lifting and dunking her. By the time we got back to the room and out of the shower, we were ready for love.
The next day we decided to go to the falls, on the Canadian side. I’d never seen them, and she hadn’t been there in years. It was an incredible sight, to be sure. After we did the Maid of the Mist and took all our photos, we walked in a park area and decided to sit down with our snacks. She had been bumping into me all day and pushing me – our own dysfunctional brand of foreplay.
We started wrestling in a park, a very busy, public place. We were both in jeans and T-shirt. We weren’t at all serious, I let her sit on my chest in a schoolboy. But I had taught her well. At first she pinned my arms with her shins and was grinding on them. She cut off the circulation pretty quickly and made them feel dead, all while smiling a wicked smile.
A lot of people paused as they went by. Christina never once looked away from me, but I could tell she was aware of them, and enjoyed having me down for strangers to see. I could hear people making comments in French, and a bit of laughter. She just grinned. After a few minutes, she said, “You know what’s coming,” and grabbed my wrists, pulling my arms over my head as she slid forward. Pinning my arms together with her thighs she sat down with her crotch against my chin.
Smiling down again – with me barely able to see, as her thighs were crowding my view – she pull my head up by my hair until my face was tight against her, and brought her knees in even tighter. My elbows were almost touching behind my head and my mouth was against her. I wasn’t going anywhere.
I could kind of hear what was going on around me. She was able to drink her Coke, one time setting it on my forehead. She had a brief conversation with two women, I think.
After about 10 minutes, she slid back and sat on my chest. My arms still weren’t really working. She got up after a few more minutes, and a woman who was sitting on a bench nearby clapped. I just laid there trying to get my arms to work, when I saw her above my head, looking down. Pretending to reach for something to my side, she put her ass right on my face again, and sat back and gave me a quick wiggle, to the delight of her one-woman audience. We soon got up and walked away.
We returned to the hotel a few hours later, and I was tired from all the walking. She really had some stamina, that woman. After a nice meal in the hotel restaurant, we went back to the room and took separate showers. I was watching TV when she came out of the bathroom in matching red bra and panties that I bought her at Victoria’s Secret. She loved them; I don’t think a man had bought her something sexy in a long time.
She had a little pot, and fired up. I wasn’t smoking much by that time, but I took a couple of tokes for the hell of it. She sat with her back against the headboard; I was lying with my head propped up on pillows near her. She took the remote off my chest and changed the channel. “Nice,” I said. “You won’t need it,” she replied.
“You want me on your face anyway,” she calmly said, exhaling a cloud of smoke. “Admit it.”
“I usually do,” I replied.
“No,” she said. “You want me on your face right now, don’t you?”
I smiled and started to move and she threw a leg over my chest to stop me.
“Say it,” she laughed.
We started to tussle on the tiny bed, and she got on top of me quickly. I was just too tired from all the walking, but she was ready.
“Maybe I’ll sit on you, maybe I won’t,” she said. I managed to turn onto my stomach under her to try to get out of her clutches, but she lay on top of me and put on a full nelson, one of the many holds I taught her.
“Maybe we’ll do some real wrestling. I’ll make you give and not let you taste me,” she said. “Maybe I’ll make you cry,” she said.
She had a pretty good nelson on me, and worked her feet and calves under my thighs to screw up my leverage. She was getting good at this. She unlocked her fingers and grabbed my hair, turning my face into the covers. I grunted.
“Are you crying? Do you need to wipe your eyes?” She pushed my face into the bed.
Struggling did me no good. But she tightened as I stopped trying, and made it painful. I had taught her the art of torment. My shoulders burned and I had a face full of bedsheet.
She finally let go and rolled me onto my back, reversing herself on top of me. But instead of plunking her ass on my face, she pulled my head halfway up her thighs and clamped down. Her beautiful ass was inches from my face, but she had a tight neck scissors on me. She grabbed my wrists and effortlessly held them at my sides. My head started to swim; I was having trouble breathing, and my eyes were watering. It was worse than her headscissors.
“I give! I give” I said, best I could with my jaw immobile.
“Of course you do,” she said, easing up a bit.
“I give!” I screamed, beginning to panic.
“Aw baby,” she said. “Of course you do. The question is, what do you give?”
She let my head fall to the mattress, and sat back. “MMmmmm,” she said. “Make me come.”

Thank you for sharing. Loved the story, even more since it's true. Any more encounters that you might like to share?

[mixfightor]

Damn, she sound magnificent. Please tell me you didn't let her get away. Thanks for sharing the experience with us.

[walrus21]

More encounters as I find the time. Yes, she was a great lady, but we're no longer together.

[vasidarv]

dude, are you serious that you were wrestling in a public park?