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Topless Wrestling.
31/03/2010
“Do you mind if we make a slight diversion?” Mike, my boyfriend, asked after picking me up from work. “My sister’s asked me to deliver a gift to her friend, Mo.”

“Mo?” I enquired.

“Yes- Mo. Short for Maureen.” he clarified. “I think it’s her birthday tomorrow. We shouldn‘t be too long.”

“I sincerely hope not,” I smiled. “You and I have a rather important appointment with my bed later on!”

Mike looked a bit embarrassed. He couldn’t really take in how much I loved him.

Soon, we were at a diminutive terraced house. We were greeted by a smallish, wiry, tomboy of a teenage girl. She had a short, pixie-style haircut and was wearing jeans and a casual top. Mike made the introductions.

“ Mo- this is my girlfriend, Tracie-Louise.”

Mo smiled and shook my hand firmly as we entered her home. “Hi. It’s about time this duffer” (she indicated Mike) “found himself a decent woman.”

“Patricia not in?” asked Mike, handing Mo the gift-wrapped present.

“No,” replied Mo. “She’s working the late shift tonight, so I’m on coffee-making duties, assuming you want one.”

“Have we got time?” Mike addressed the question to me, a little mockingly. I giggled and gave him a slight nudge, but Mo had already left the room on her way to the kitchen.

“Who’s Patricia?” I asked. Mike told me she was Mo’s housemate.

While we were waiting for our coffee we turned our attention to the TV. Mo had been watching Women’s’ Wrestling from Los Angeles and Mike shook his head in despair; like the men’s version, he considered it superficial showbiz nonsense. As Mo returned with the coffee he gestured disdainfully at the screen. “You’re not still watching this kids’ stuff at your age, are you?”

“Why not?” Mo’s tone was indignant. “It’s entertaining… and educational.”

“Educational!” echoed Mike, sardonically. “This garbage won’t teach you anything about self-defence. Let me have a word with Donna at my office on your behalf. She’s a judo black belt and I’m sure she’d be willing to give you a few lessons.” I’d had several sessions with Donna myself, and knew her to be most knowledgeable about martial arts.

“There’s no need,” Mo informed him. “Patricia and I practice wrestling every night. We’ve learned a lot from the TV shows. I usually beat her and,” she continued, flashing a smug grin at Mike, “I bet I could beat you, too.”

Chuckling, I nudged Mike. “She probably could, too.”

Unexpectedly, Mike took up the challenge. “Well, Mo, you could try!”

“OK- I will.” Mo was eager. “Tracie-Louise, you‘ll have to be referee. First fall or submission wins.” I nodded my understanding as Mo took off her shoes and socks in preparation. “Oh, and Mike…”

“What?”

“We should both strip to the waist.” she concluded. In making this condition, Mo was perfectly serious and unabashed- as opposed to Mike, who glanced at me almost in panic.

Mo must have intercepted his look of alarm. “Oh, don’t worry, Tracie-Louise,” she told me. “Mike and I have known each other since we were kids. We’re like brother and sister. And anyway,” she concluded, “it’s the way I wrestle with Patricia.”

I rolled my eyes to the heavens. “Far it be from me to recommend changing the house rules,” I said, somewhat amused. “After all, this will be my first time as a wrestling referee. If you think that you and Mike should fight stripped to the waist, then I can’t see any reason why you shouldn‘t.” Actually, I was quite looking forward to watching Mike’s firm and muscular upper body in action again, but I didn’t mention that!

Mike removed his T-shirt as Mo stripped off her loose top- then, to my surprise, she reached back, unclipped her bra and removed that, too! I hadn’t expected her to go that far, and I thought it was unfair. Her pert, teenage breasts were a distraction to me, let alone to Mike!

The wrestling match started with Mo grappling very competitively. She was obviously a tough girl and used the grip of her bare feet on the carpet to great advantage. These factors, combined with my rather dubious refereeing decisions in her favour- after all, I was bound to be biased towards the girl in a Male versus Female contest!- meant that she stayed competitive for the first fifteen minutes of the bout, making cheeky remarks about Mike paying more attention to her bare boobs rather than to his wrestling.

Inevitably, though, Mike’s superior strength and stamina told. After inflicting a few holds on her which had her tiring, topless body writhing helplessly, he eventually trapped her in a Boston Crab.

“Do you submit?” I asked her.

“No- never!” she gasped, shaking her head.

Mike intensified the hold, but, although the half-naked girl must have been in pain she refused to surrender. In fact, now and again a blissful smile crept across her face. It took me a few minutes to realise she was enjoying the sensation of her bare nipples rubbing on the carpet as she struggled! However, the fact remained that, although Mo wasn’t going to escape the hold, she had no intention of surrendering either. It was stalemate.

“OK, Tracie-Louise- we’re wasting time here.” Mike’s voice was unusually commanding. “You’re going have to help me make her give up.”

“How?” I asked

“Tickle her feet.”

I was only too willing to oblige. Being held powerless in a Boston Crab made Mo particularly susceptible to having the vulnerable soles of her bare feet tickled. She started laughing helplessly and pleading with me to stop, but I wouldn’t do so until she finally submitted. But I was feeling a strange thrill in having this bare-breasted young woman under my complete control, so I carried on with the tickling for a few minutes more while she begged me to bring her torture to an end.

Mike released her and she rolled on the carpet, totally exhausted. She looked up at us.

“You cheated!“ she exclaimed, not without justification. “It was two-on-one. You couldn’t beat me on your own, Mike- you had to have help. Just you wait. I’ll get you next time.”

“Not if you keep watching televised wrestling you won’t,” smiled Mike. “Anyway, thanks for the coffee, Mo. We’ll be on our way.”

That night in my flat we had a most satisfying love-making session, although I didn’t admit to Mike that watching him and Mo wrestling together half-naked had been an exceptional turn-on for me!

It was only the next morning that I discovered my wristwatch was missing. And this, paradoxically, was to lead me into an even more interesting situation, which I hope to relate on this site in the foreseeable future…
Poster: Tracie-Louise


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