Eve Knowles Investigates, Part Three
I had written my first piece about my wrestling bout with Laura. And the work was coming along well. I was still keeping to my training schedules with Tina, and since my company was paying for that, I made certain that I took it all very seriously. My skills were developing and I was reaching a decent level of grappling adeptness. I still wasn’t - nor ever would be – in Tina’s league since this was never going to be a career move for me, but I was still resolute in learning more. Even Kim had started to take a few lessons – obviously spurred on by her grappling loss to me – and was having fun rolling around the mat with the highly experienced Tina. But for me, I was nothing more than a keen dilettante: a dabbler of sorts that was exploring another side of human sexuality.
Wrestling was fun and tactile, but writing about it was just as good. And the article was coming along as well as expected.
I was starting to regret my jocular challenges to Kim. My boss was always hinting at having more fun on the mat, and when Douglas planned a business trip again, I was starting to wish I hadn’t oil grappled my sexy boss that night.
Wednesday evening and another oily interlude
So here I was again, naked and oiled and hurling my glistening derriere around Kim’s large exercise mat, matching slippery grips with an attractive trophy wife of an elderly publisher. If Douglas had been here he would have had a heart attack, I’d joked. And Kim agreed, although she knew he’d have died happy.
The mat was large and soft and the fireplace was a nice orange glow. Two tall reading rights gave us adequate illumination for wrestling, and I was starting to enjoy the fact that Kim was improving.
Kim was groaning loudly as I spread myself over her flattened form. I wasn’t sure whether it was from delight or anticipation that I was going to smother her. We struggled, face-to-face. Her legs swam against the soft mat with mine as our lubricated limbs made a soft hiss when rubbed together.
Grappling awkwardly, we moaned and gasped under the spotlights, our flesh sheened sensuously by the baby oil. I was trying to secure Kim’s wrists but Kim’s hips were rocking and jolting against mine. We still hadn’t shaved our pussies. But from our last painful experience of snagged public hair, we circumvented the problem by rubbing oil around those parts. And now there were no pulls and snags, just slippery fun, and the sounds of our competitive exertions.
I unintentionally ground my hairy mound into Kim’s and bore down upon her naked form, my crucifix position settled with hers. Like perfectly equal crosses resting on top of the other, we lay. Soft hisses and moans escaped from our mouths as we strenuously communicated our battle, struggling to contain or escape. At one point, Kim was on top, trying to grapevine my legs but the oil and my jerky moves dashed that plan. Instead, she tortured me with her tits and I let out a low moan as she rubbed them intentionally in my face.
I wasn’t feeling irresolute in any way, but I was impressed by Kim’s skill. And besides, we were having fun.
Luck as it, I scissored one of Kim’s leg s and then wormed my way out of her hold. I gripped her waist and with a low cry, I wrapped my legs around her waist and controlled her from behind, pulling her arms back so that her body was arched upwards and back.
Wow – in the firelight, her nubile body was hot. Glistening and firm, her middle-aged midriff was still taut and her muscles were toned. She was not flaccid in any sense, and there was strength in that frame of hers.
I piled on some pressure and enjoyed her protest. “Easy! Argh!”
“Was that a submission, love?” I mocked, still manipulating her body from behind her.
“No way,” she groaned and I lifted her slightly up and then slammed her butt down against the slippery mat. Her generous tits wobbled on impact and she cursed me jokingly. I teased her further by playing with her left breast with my free hand, gently manipulating the nipple with my thumb. She moaned softly and laughed. I knew where her sensitive zones were, and she knew it.
I rolled her onto our sides, and I lay behind her, as if spooning her body. Her oily buttocks squirmed against my groin and teased my clit. I gently thrust up to her, massaging my own mons pubis to get something out of this. And as I held her in a half-nelson, I enjoyed the proximity of her.
My tits were flattened against her back and we moved and strained and twisted. It was a nice experience between two horny women, and one that gave us both a great deal of pleasure.
“Fancy a drink?” Kim whispered as we grappled. “I could do with one.” And I graciously agreed and released her. I widened my legs and let her go, then released her pinioned arm.
I flopped lazily onto my back, and then watched Kim crawl away to the edge of the mat and put on some flip-flops. She padded off to the kitchen and I sat up, my oily ass against the mat. I was shiny with oil and welcomed the glass of champagne when she returned. Kim kicked off her beach footwear and carefully sat in front of me.
Kim was a beautiful middle-aged woman. She looked more like a woman in her mid-thirties than what she really was, which was forty-one. She had looked after herself over the years, and it showed. We sat in silence and she appraised her star reporter, her eyes still alive with mischief.
“So, how do you think you’ll do against this Amy woman?” she asked as I sipped the fluted glass. “You really are a good wrestler.”
But I made a face and felt disconcerted. “Kim, I’m a serious journalist not a wrestler. This is just a story; I’m doing this for a story,” I interjected. “It’s not going to be my secret career.”
“Well, you could make it if you were one,” said Kim. “I think you have a gift for it.”
Kim smiled and drank her drink. She bent forward and took my drained glass, then went back to the kitchen. A minute later she returned and we settled back into our grappling match.
Kim had a lot of strength in those arms and our fingerlock duels usually had me on my back. We squirmed and struggled on our knees and I drank in the sight of her heaving breasts as they chafed against mine. Fingers locked again, we contended body-to-body, both grunting our effort to force the other down. It was hard work since our knees had no grip on the mat. My rounded orbs stabbed and rubbed and jostled for supremacy against Kim’s but I was starting to have my way. I was bending Kim’s wrists backwards and millimetre by millimetre, I was beginning to best her; backwards and over her body arched. In a sensual choreography of wrestling, I felt a wave of pleasure rush through me. Kim was bent over backwards with me slightly off-set to her body, and forcing her down.
I was careful not to pile on too much pressure but I didn’t need to worry as Kim rolled sideways and slipped her legs out. Using my top weight I forced her into a sexy cross pin and held her until she relented. And although she didn’t concede the bout, she surrendered the fall and I let her back up.
We could have wrestled for hours but time was grinding on and since we both had our work schedules cut out, we left our oily duel there and I showered down and left for home.
As I drove into town, I wondered if it was worth making a career from wrestling. Of course, my current work as a journalist paid the bills but it would always be nice to have an extra income. And since I was learning another skill, I thought it would be wise to have my efforts rewarded.
Grappling Kim was fun, but now I was thinking about the main bout. In two weeks I would be facing a new opponent, a more experienced girl. And this was going to be my first bout before a packed house. I did feel nervous, I admit it. But I had as much chance of winning as anyone else.
The next morning, I was in my home office, tapping the keyboard. I had written my final draft for the magazine and had emailed it to Kim to give it a once over. I had put a great deal of effort and feeling into the article, and at lunch time, went for a walk along the seafront. I was feeling on a high and actually looking forward to my next wrestling match. It was just the fear of large crowds and getting past that threshold. But nothing was insurmountable. And the more my confidence grew, the more I was starting to deal with this project. And as I walked along the beach, I felt resolute that I was going to make the grade and perhaps join Tina’s group.
