More of a cat fight than my usual fare so I’m posting here even though the action takes place in a ring (moderators feel free to move it). I was reminded if this story by Peggy Tee, although I hasten to add that she is not the Peggy in the story.
This is the story of a private wrestling match that I had rather unexpectedly and is a bit more recent than the other stories I’ve posted so far. By this time, I’d fought in three senior wrestling tournaments. Now, at 50, I thought I was done with wrestling and wanted to focus on my boxing instead. I didn’t take part in the fourth senior wresting tournament, instead I refereed it.
My place in the tournament was taken by a friend of Jan’s; a short, buxom, 52-year-old redheaded American called Peggy. I was intrigued by this woman; she seemed sassy and confident and, despite our height difference (I’m 4 inches taller than her) I felt we would be well matched – I really wanted to fight her.
I watched her progress through four rounds of the tournament with great interest. In the first round she fared badly, being knocked out by the much younger and stronger Mitzi. She bounced back well in the second round, knocking out Jan (something I’d never managed to do myself). In the third round she’d lost a much hyped “tit match” with Suzi by a single fall but in the fourth round she’d managed to beat Clare by four falls to two. Going into the 5th round she was in joint second place with Jan – only Mitzi was ahead of them. I had already committed to take on the tournament winner and I was secretly hoping it would be Peggy – if not, I knew that sooner or later I’d be challenging her to a match. This chance encounter was something of a bonus.
About two weeks before the 5th round of the tournament, I went to work out in the club. When I arrived, I noticed the flame haired American woman hard at it in her own exercise routine. She was dressed in a black sports bra and black sweat pants – it looked like she was working up quite a sweat. Once I began my own work out I didn’t her much attention. After about 20 minutes of general workout I decided I wanted to practice my boxing so I found a pair of boxing gloves and started knocking seven bells out of a punch bag. In my white sports bra, red boxing gloves and white silk boxing shorts I really felt the part and got quite lost in what I was doing. Suddenly I realised the redhead was stood right next to me, watching me intently. I paused for a moment to catch my breath and looked at her quizzically. She smiled at me and said:
“Hi Ellen, could I ask you a big favour?”
“Sure – what can I do for you?”
“I was wondering…” She hesitated before continuing, almost sheepishly; “If you’d be willing to fight me?”
I was stunned: “What here? Now?”
“Yes, if you’ve got the time. I think the ring room’s free isn’t it? And you have access to a key, don’t you?”
“Yes, and yes but why?”
“Well, the final round of the tournament is coming up and I’d like to be in the final but I’m worried Christine’s better than me. I thought I should get a practice match in with someone who’s fought her and who better than a former senior champion?”
For a moment I was speechless. It seemed like a dream come true. The one woman in this year’s tournament that I was keen to have a tussle with had just asked me if I would spar with her to help her training program.
“Yes.” I gasped as soon as I could get my breath. “Let’s do it now, I’ll get the key.”
It made sense to seize the moment. We’d both been working out for 30 minutes or more so we were already warmed up. We headed through the main locker room to the red corner dressing where I asked Peggy to wait while I went up to the edit suite to grab the ring room key. I carefully opened the door that led from the dressing room to the ring room and cautiously checked it was empty. There was no one around and the room was in semi-darkness. We slipped in, closing and locking the door behind us. I quickly checked the blue corner dressing room door and the main entrance – they were both locked. I said to Peggy:
“OK, we’ll keep this private. The doors are locked so no one can disturb us. Erica’s not around and the edit suite’s empty so I think we’ll be safe from prying cameras but we’ll keep the lights low just in case.”
We were alone and I was itching to get started. I could tell she was as well but first there was the question of attire. She was wearing leggings and a sports bra, I assumed she had knickers on under the leggings. I was wearing my sports bra and shorts over my white cotton panties. In a match we’d normally fight topless, but bra and pants is more common for a training match. As I slipped off my shorts, I posed the question to her. She had taken her leggings off, revealing a black thong and was already in the process of removing her bra.
“I don’t know about you but I’m feeling pretty sweaty in this gear, how about we do this in the raw?” She replied.
“What? You mean naked?”
We’d both worked up a sweat in the gym but I was still a bit taken aback at her suggestion. I don’t generally like to fight naked; I feel I’m too old for that. But she’s older than me and she’s the one suggesting we do. She had her thumbs in the sides of her thong as she said:
“Hey, c’mon Ellen, don’t be a prude. You used to fight in the buff when you were younger, why’s it any different now? Besides the door’s locked so no one’s gonna see you but me.”
With that she shimmied the thong to the floor and stood before me in all her naked glory. I felt strangely self conscious but, after a moment’s hesitation, agreed and slipped off my bra and panties as well. For a moment we stood inspecting admiring each other’s bodies. You’d think there wasn’t much we hadn’t already seen. She fought topless in the tournament, as the ref I wore gym knickers and a sports bra. Also, there was plenty of footage around of me fighting topless and even naked. But there really is nothing like seeing the real thing. I knew her stats already. At five foot three she was a good bit shorter than me and a few pounds lighter. We were both about the same size in the bum, with 42 inch hips, but where I was a bit pear shaped with a 29 inch waist and a 38C bust she was more like an hour glass, albeit a fairly stumpy one, with a 29 inch waist and surgically enhanced 40E beach balls for boobs. Now she was naked I could also see that, in contrast to the blonde thatch between my legs, she had a neatly trimmed red Brazilian.
After a few more moments appraisal she nodded approvingly in my direction, climbed into the ring and stood in the red corner. I walked around the ring and climbed into the blue corner.
I wondered for a moment if I should point out that, in the senior tournaments, it was currently Christine three, yours truly one but I figured she probably knew that already.
She looked across at me and said; “Standard club rules, submissions only, no counts and no time limit – we fight until one of us surrenders the match, OK?”
“Yes, let’s get it on.” I replied enthusiastically, and with that we moved on each other. As we locked up, she grinned and asked;
“Is this gonna be serious or sexy?”
My answer was emphatic, a hip toss that sent her to the mat. She rolled out and came to her knees facing me. I closed on her but foolishly a little too quickly.
“Serious huh? Well try this…”
She drove a forearm into my belly and, as I doubled up, grabbed hold of my neck, pulled herself up and planted a knee square in my love box. I dropped to my knees, clutching myself, and she pushed me back and leaped on top of me. She positioned herself high enough up my body that her boobs were in my face but low enough that she could still get a grapevine on despite being shorter than me. Her powerful legs went to work on my thighs while her beach ball boobs cut off my air supply. It didn’t take me many seconds to tap her on the shoulder and signal my submission – possibly the fastest submission I’d ever conceded.
She rolled off me and came to her knees as I struggled to get my breath back and ease the pain between my legs.
“Wow! I was expecting a bit more resistance than that.” She gloated, hands on her thighs, as I slowly sat up. “Are you ready for another fall?”
I nodded and we both got to our feet and squared off against each other. This time she opened the proceedings, grabbing my right arm and twisting me into a hammer lock. She forced me to my knees. I reached back with my free left arm and wrapped it round her neck. She tried to force my right hand up to the back of my neck but I flipped her over my left shoulder, thinking she’d release her hold.
How wrong I was. She tried to take my arm with her, which meant I spun around and we both ended up on our backs, with her still gripping my abused right arm. Boy, that really bought tears to my eyes. And she wasn’t done yet. Rolling over, she got to her knees and dragged me towards her on my back. I quickly rolled over myself and came to my knees facing her. My arm was still firmly in her grip as she got to her feet and stepped towards me. Finally, she let go of my arm, stepped over my shoulders, grabbed the back of my head and pulled my face into her snatch before dropping to the mat on her left thigh. Suddenly I was in a savage head scissors with those powerful thighs clamped round my ears. She started to squeeze and I’m sure you won’t be surprised to know that it wasn’t too many seconds before I tapped out for a second time.
She unclamped her legs, rolled clear and stood up while I lay on my back gasping for breath and massaging my abused right arm.
“Two falls to me. Do you need a little time?” She teased.
The look on my face must have been like thunder as she suddenly looked serious and said:
“Take your time honey; I sense you’re not in the zone right now.”
Not in the zone! Damn right I wasn’t in the zone, I was two falls down and hurting like mad. Still, I’m no quitter so after 30 seconds or so I got to my feet and signalled my readiness to continue.
The third fall started well for me and I managed to keep her tied up in a number of holds that would have resulted in pins if we’d had a ref but counted for nothing as we were. Making no progress that way I decided to try softening her up a bit with a series of throws and slams. But she was tougher than I thought and I was soon running out of breath. When I paused for a moment, she seized the opportunity to return the compliment. Targeting my abused right arm, she threw me a few times before whipping me into the ropes.
As I bounced back anticipating a clothesline, she side-stepped and, damn it! She grabbed me by the right arm again. This time she spun me straight into the blue corner. My back smashed into the turnbuckle. Before I could compose myself, she was at my side and the next thing I knew I was in a headlock. Then she bulldogged me. I was face down on the mat seeing stars when I suddenly felt her hands on my calves and her butt on my back. She had grabbed both my legs and I was caught in a Boston crab.
As she hauled on my legs I thought; “Bitch! There’s no way as a ref that I would have allowed her to get that hold on someone.” But, of course, there was no ref and, of course, there was nothing I could do about it. I struggled for a moment but in the end, I had no option but to submit yet again.
It was time to give myself a stiff talking too. Yes, we had no ref so she could bend the rules a bit. Yes, she’d been fighting regularly while I hadn’t wrestled in the best part of a year. Yes, we were fighting nude so I was slightly uncomfortable. But none of that justified me being 3-0 down to this girl after little more than 5 minutes action. I needed to get back in the match and I needed to do it now.
She was patient with me as I made the most of the break and it was a full minute before we faced off again and locked up to start what would seem an endless fourth fall.
It started well for me as I whipped her into the ropes and cleanly clothes-lined her but, once again, I got too close as she was getting up and she tackled me to the mat. For the next 10 minutes or more we struggled for supremacy on the canvas. Several times I felt her fingers in a place they shouldn’t be but once or twice mine were too so I let it go.
Writhing around is all well and good but I think we both realized we were getting nowhere. Then suddenly she tried to break away. She almost made it to her feet but I grabbed one of her ankles and she went down flat on her face, momentarily stunned. That moment was all I needed. I grabbed her other ankle, scrambled to my feet and stepped over her, putting her legs into a figure four. Dropping to my haunches I sat back on her bum and hauled on her ankles. She screamed and tapped out – at last I’d pulled one back.
We were both in need of a breather after that and I don’t think either of us moved for the best part of a minute. Eventually I got to my feet and, seeing she was still on her back, asked if she was ready to continue. She hauled herself up on the ropes and said she was so we moved on each other again.
This time I was faster. I caught her in a front headlock and sat down quickly, smashing her head into the mat and paying her back from that earlier bulldog. Before she could recover her senses, I pulled her head between my legs. It was my turn to show off the power of my thighs. As I tightened the hold, I briefly felt her tongue tickle my clit and the old gal sent a message loud and clear. I squeezed a bit harder. I was about to reminder her of our “non-sexy” agreement when she tapped out.
Once again, we took a long breather and once again it was me who made the first move. I was still a fall down but I could sense she was tiring. I was beginning to think my efforts to wear her down were paying off.
The way she started the sixth fall suggested otherwise. She launched herself at me with a flying tackle that completely floored me and knocked the air out of me. In a pins match she’d have got a cross press with that. As it was, I simply lay still for a few seconds to get my breath back and then bucked until I threw her off.
Getting quickly to my feet I grabbed her in a front headlock as she stood up and delivered a solid knee lift to those beach balls of hers. She dropped to her knees again. I still had hold of her hair and at this point my rule book went out the window as I gently tugged her back to her feet and repeated the knee lift before slamming her face down on the mat.
With a ref present she would probably have been counted out. Eventually, after 15 seconds or so, she got to her hands and knees, looked up at me and said; “Nice move.” before coming to her feet. We closed on each other again and I managed to slip a hand between her legs and an arm around her throat. I hoisted her in the air, dropped to one knee and bought her down on her back across my knee. A classic “over the knee” back breaker. She cried out in agony. I let her go and she rolled off me.
No ref, no count – I grabbed her legs, put her in a Boston crab and shouted “do you submit?” She screamed her defiance and held on for a few seconds but it was too much and she soon cried out “I give.”
Three falls in 5 minutes! Suddenly we were level and I was the comeback queen. However, there was no denying we were both exhausted and neither of us was keen to start the next fall. I stood in the blue corner, supporting myself on the ropes while she pretty much sat on the bottom rope turnbuckle in the red corner. Eventually she pulled herself upright, nodded to me and we advanced on each other again. There was no doubt in my mind that, whatever the outcome, this would be the last fall.
We locked up in a double bear hug for a few seconds and tried squeezing the life out of each other. Being shorter than me she had her face pressed into my right shoulder and I momentarily considered going for a boob smother to put her out. Suddenly I felt her right arm slide down my back and prying fingers between my legs. Shocked I let go of my hug and shoved her away, she landed hard on her butt and looked up sheepishly. This time I wasn’t going to let it go:
“Hey, I thought we said no sexy stuff.”
“Sorry, I got carried away…”
With that she launched herself at me and head butted me in the belly As I staggered backward, she clocked me with a series of forearms across my tits and finished off with a head butt to the chest that knocked me onto the ropes.
As I hung momentarily dazed on the ropes she moved in for the kill. First, she hit me with a knee lift to the pussy (ouch! That hurt) then she wrapped her left arm round my neck, stuck her right hand between my legs and pulled me forward. Once again, her right hand was in my snatch as she hoisted me up and went for a body slam. I hit hard and she dropped on me, knees on my shoulders and bum in my face. I tried to bridge out but she squeezed my tits and forearmed my belly until I stopped. I was breathing hard now and after a few seconds pulled my buttocks in and threw my legs up hoping to secure a head scissors.
She saw it coming and grabbed my calves, suddenly not only was her arse in my face but my ankles were neatly tucked under her armpits. Damn it! I’d been here before and figured I knew what was coming next. I clenched my buttocks expecting a finger or two in the bum but instead I felt her tongue gently brushing my pussy. I tried to protest but she just pushed her snatch harder into my face and my cries were swallowed up by her pubes. She started to ease forward, her tongue licking round my slot. I began to feel aroused as she murmured softly:
“I’ve had enough fighting – let’s call it a draw.”
She slowly lowered my buttocks to the mat and released my legs. At the same time, she leaned forward so her bum was off my face and her fanny was tantalizingly close to my own mouth. I could have snapped on a head scissors and had her tap out but I was enjoying her attentions so I thought “what the heck” and started repaying her in kind…
And that’s how it ended, 30 minutes in and at three falls a piece we started making love, not war. What happened next is between the two of us. Suffice to say that an hour or so later an exhausted pair of naked middle-aged women snuck out of the ring room and into the changing rooms.
As I showered and dressed, I couldn’t help wondering how things would play out when we did meet in the ring with a ref, as I now felt sure we would.
It was only when I went to leave the locker room that I realized I didn’t have the knickers I’d been training in. I must have dropped them in the ring room. I still had the key so I hurried back and unlocked the door. As I stepped inside a familiar voice said:
“Are these yours?”
Erica was stood in the middle of the ring holding my white panties up in her right hand. She read the shocked expression on my face and just said: “Master key.”
Damn it – should have thought of that.
She continued: “When I got back and couldn’t find the key, I went to check out the room. Imagine my surprise when I found the door locked. Imagine my further surprise when I let myself in and found these.”
She waved my panties at me.
“So, what happened, Ellen?”
I felt like a naughty school girl.
“I had a private fight with someone…”
“Did you film it?”
“No.”
“Would you like to tell me about it?” She grinned in a sly way and waved the knickers again.
“Not particularly – it was private.”
“I’ll tell what, I’ll give you your knickers back if tell me what happened. If not, I’ll let Christine add them to her collection. Or would you like to wrestle me for them?”
Tempting though the prospect was I didn’t think I could manage a second fight today, not against a youngster like Erica, so I had to pass:
“OK – how about you give them back and I write you an account of the match?”
For a moment she looked disappointed but then said: “Done!”
She tossed my panties to me before matter-of-factly saying; “Please put the key back where you found it.”
So, Erica, here’s the story of my private encounter with Peggy – or at least as much as I’m willing to tell.
