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“I think we’re probably evenly matched,” said Robin.

She was wearing a workout outfit and looking in the
full length mirror in our bedroom. I was taking off my
clothes after coming home from a late meeting, and she
was about to hit the shower.

“What do you mean?” I asked her.

“I mean physically,” she said.

Robin towered above me. I was maybe around 5-8, but
compared to my 6 foot 3 wife, I looked small,
especially when she wore heels.

We met as freshmen in college, and I liked her a lot.
She was in several of my gen-ed classes, and she was
smart, good-natured and fun. Nobody else would have
described her that way, because she was the tallest
woman on campus in those days, with a voluptuous body
that caught every male eye, and every woman hated her
when she walked into a room. I appreciated her curves
as much as the next guy, but I didn’t fantasize about
her because she was way above me — literally.

Then she asked me out. I said thank you, that I was
flattered, but she needed to pick on somebody her own
size. But she wouldn’t take no for an answer, and I
finally gave in after telling her that I was going to
enjoy all the stares, but I wondered how she would
handle them.

It was an uncomfortable evening, because we went to a
party where a lot of her friends and some of my
friends made us the focus of attention all night.

When she called me up a week later and asked me out
again, I said, “Didn’t you have enough the first
time?”

“I didn’t realize you were so sensitive about your
height,” she said.

“I’m not sensitive,” I said. “I do just fine. But you
should ask yourself why you want to be seen in public
with a man so much smaller than you. I don’t mind, but
I’d rather enjoy your company the way I did before we
went out. I’m sure you can find another smaller guy to
work out your fantasies with.”

“You know, Ned, you’re a real asshole,” she said and
slammed down the phone.

The next time I saw her was at a party a couple of
weeks later and I went over to her. “I’m really sorry,
Robin,” I said. “I had no right to say that to you. I
guess I must have been more sensitive than I thought.
I’m sure you’re just curious about smaller guys, like
I’m sometimes curious about bigger girls.”

“You still don’t get it, Ned,” she said. “I’ve dated
guys who are much taller than me, who are my height
and who are shorter. I don’t give a damn how big they
are. The only reason I asked you out was because I
thought you were a nice guy. I did think for a moment
that it was too bad you were shorter than me. And then
I thought how stupid that thought was. “Anyway, that’s
the way I feel. If you ever get over the size thing
and feel that way, too, you know my number.” She got
up and walked away.

That conversation did get me thinking and even
fantasizing. I thought for three weeks later, and when
I called her, she was surprised. “I gave up two weeks
ago,” she said.

“So it’s too late?” I said.

“Shut up,” she said. “Yes, I’m free Saturday night.”

***

During a nice dinner at a quiet place, we exchanged
life stories, likes, dislikes, opinions on politics
and music and hopes for the future.

When I took her back to the dorm, she said her
roommate had gone home for the weekend and would I
like to come up and talk. We spent the next four hours
rutting, bouncing off the walls, both beds, the floor
and maybe the ceiling. I don’t even know how many
times I came, because it seemed like I was orgasming
nonstop. There I was with this beautiful Amazon with
an amazing body who seemed to be in even a bigger
sexual frenzy than I was.

When I finally left that night, I was staggering and I
was out the minute my head hit the pillow. I slept
like I was drugged until noon the next day. Her phone
call woke me.

“Want to have some lunch?” she said.

At lunch, she was embarrassed. “I have a confession to
make, Ned,” she said. “When I accused you of being
sensitive about your size, I could have been talking
about me. I’ve been thinking about asking you out
since the second week of school, but the size thing
stopped me.

“It’s a different kind of size thing and I hope you
don’t get upset when I tell you this. See, I
discovered sex in the second semester of my senior
year in high school, and… well… you saw what
happened last night.

“And, no, I’m not a slut. I’ve only done it with three
guys before you. Two of them were good — not as good
as you — and the other one was a dud. But I’ve found
out that it’s an important part for me, and, I don’t
know how to say this, but I was worried about you.

“A girlfriend told me to check out how big your feet
were and your shoes didn’t look that large. I was
concerned that we wouldn’t be a good fit and neither
of us would satisfy each other. I told myself I was
being shallow and stupid, but I didn’t want to lose
you as a friend. So I wasn’t sure if I wanted to take
the chance of starting something that would lead to us
being uncomfortable around each other because of the
size thing, not the height thing.

“Then I met this nice girl, and when I was talking to
her, I found out you used to date her. After she told
me you were a great guy, I steered the conversation to
men and their size, you know, and then found a way to
insert you into the topic. She told me that she
thought you were almost a freak of nature, because
your size was all out of proportion to your height and
that she never told you she was sore each time the two
of you had sex.

“Then I met another girl you dated, and she said the
same thing. That’s when I decided to call you.”

I listened to her story and wondered whether she was
laying it on thick. If she was, what was the
motivation? She was already a legend as a freshman,
and she had her choice of any athlete, rich fraternity
guy or social superstar on campus. I was none of
those.

I decided to let things take their course. She was a
fantastic sexual athlete, and if the next time was
only half as good as the first time, it would still be
amazing. I resolved not to invest my feelings into
something that had no future but to just enjoy being
with her until she moved on.

Within a couple of months, I found out moving on was
the last thing on her mind. Instead, she moved in, and
we haven’t been apart since our sophomore year. We got
married after we graduated and are getting ready to
start a family. The sex has continued to be amazing.

Robin was telling the truth about her sex drive. Mine
is strong, but no match for hers. She’s always
thinking of ways to spice things up. So I figured this
“evenly matched” statement was going to lead to some
strange twist. But I didn’t mind. When she got
excited, I was the beneficiary.

“When you say physically, do you mean that you’re much
taller than me?” I asked. “I thought that didn’t
matter to you.”

“Don’t be silly,” she said. “I’m just doing an
evaluation. Yes, I’m taller, and I’m strong, because I
work out. I can lift you up. But you also work out,
and you’re also strong. Plus you’re a man, and your
muscles develop more than a woman’s. Even though I
weigh more than you, you can also lift me up.

“I was thinking that my extra size and weight and
training might match up against your male muscles, and
we would be evenly matched.”

“Evenly matched for what?” I asked.

“A wrestling match,” she said and laughed.

When we got to know each other, we found out that we
had both been on our high school wrestling teams. Of
course, among the girls, she was the league
heavyweight champion, while I was just No. 2 on our
team in the 145 class. “What brought this up?” I
asked.

“You shouldn’t have asked that, Ned, because now I’m
going to tell you,” she said. “It started because I
was getting angry and jealous, and I was trying to
figure out a way to get back at you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’ve seen you with Darlene at the club, and also with
Sheri and Madison. They are always all over you,
touching, poking and rubbing. You seem to enjoy it.”

“Are you accusing me of cheating?”

“Of course not, but why do you let them buzz around
you like that? Don’t you get enough attention from
me?”

Darlene is the owner of the club, and one of Robin’s
girlfriends. Sheri and Madison are also close friends
of hers. She was right that they enjoyed teasing me
and flirting. I couldn’t figure out why, but my guess
was that that Robin had bragged to them about our sex
life. I joked with them at the club, but I never
initiated any contact, and I never saw them outside
the club. Robin was right. She kept me so busy
sexually, that I was too exhausted to cheat, even if I
had the urge, which I didn’t.

“You know I don’t lead them on, so why are you mad at
me instead of them?” I said.

“I’m not really mad at you, but that one day I was
angry and jealous, and I was thinking of how I could
diminish you in their eyes. For some reason, wrestling
came to my mind. I thought about my advantage in size
and your male muscles and wondered what would happen
if we actually had a match.”

“How would that solve anything?” I said.

“Well, if I could humiliate you in front of them,” she
said, “it would make me feel a lot better. But you’re
right, it wouldn’t solve anything. In fact, it might
make you even more exciting to them.

“But that idea took on a life of its own. I can’t
explain it, but the idea of humiliating you in a
wrestling match really excites me. Then someone showed
me a website where lesbians wrestle each other, and
the winner gets to humiliate and even rape the loser.
I couldn’t stop watching those matches, and when I
watched, I imagined the two women were me and you, and
I won and humiliated you in front of my friends. The
more I watched, the more I thought about it, and the
more I thought about it, the more I wanted to do it.

“And don’t ask me how do I reconcile this with me
loving you. One has nothing to do with the other. I
love you, and I want to do this, which is completely
opposite from love, and there’s no way to explain it.”

“But why would I want to participate?” I said. “If I
won, I would be the male bully, and if I lost, you’re
right, I’d be humiliated in front of your friends.”

“That’s where I’m stuck,” she said. “You don’t have
this strange fascination with the idea that I have.
You’re more normal. What would it take for you to
participate? I could ask you as a favor, but that’s a
copout. I was thinking of offering you a fivesome with
me and the girls if you won.”

“What?!” I said, finally a little shocked by where
this was going.

“In your dreams,” she said. “I don’t share you with
anyone. I’m only kidding. But there’s got to be
something that would get you into a kinky contest
involving extreme exhibitionism and sexual
humiliation. If we’re going to do it, we may as well
go all out.”

“Who’s going to watch this match?” I asked.

“Just my three girlfriends,” she said. “They would
also video it for us to watch later. No, I don’t plan
to sell it on the Internet.”

“Well, it’s a fascinating idea,” I said. “You’re right
that I’m not interested in the slightest. Let me know
if you come up with a reason to for me to change my
mind. I can’t think of anything.”

“I’ll think of something,” said Robin. “You know I
don’t give up easy.”

I hoped she would give up on the whole strange thing,
but instead she did think of a way to manipulate me
into a match, using probably the only thing in the
world that would work. It was called Robin sex.

At first, I had no idea what was going on. She just
acted like she wasn’t as interested, and one day a
week or so was fine with her. I didn’t understand at
first, especially since that one day was still
amazing. But I had become accustomed to three or four
days, and after her disinterest lasted more than three
weeks, I asked her if she was feeling all right.

“I’m fine,” she said. “Why do you ask?”

“Because we used to be a lot more active in the
bedroom than we are now, and I was wondering why,” I
said.

“Would you like to have sex more frequently?” she
asked in an innocent voice.

“Wouldn’t you?” I replied.

“That wasn’t the question,” she said. “The question
is, would YOU like to have sex more often?”

“Yes is the answer,” I said.

“What would you be willing to give for more sex?”

“Is this your new thing?” I said. “I have to pay for
sex. Does that excite you, to be paid for sex?”

“Don’t be stupid, Ned. I don’t want money, but I do
want a match. Do you think that would be worth more
sex?”

“So that’s what this is all about. Forget it. I know
you miss the sex more than I do.”

“You’re right, Ned. I’m very frustrated, and I’m
asking you in advance to forgive me if I get short
with you and act irritable. I do miss our wonderful
times in bed. But to accomplish something you really
want to do, it sometimes takes sacrifice.”

“Suit yourself,” I said. I had had enough of the whole
thing.

But after a couple more weeks, I had to hand it to
Robin. I could tell she was wound up tight, and little
things set her off. She never failed to apologize for
her occasional outbursts, and she never brought up the
reason why she was doing this. She just stewed, and
because she stewed, I stewed.

I broke first. “OK,” I said to her one day after a
tough day at work when all I had to look forward to at
home was an evening of boring TV. “Tell me more about
this match. It can’t be worse than what you’re putting
us through now. I feel like calling up someone to
shoot us and put us out of our misery.”

She had been listless when I came home, but as soon as
I said those words, she was animated, and there was a
gleam in her eyes. “Oh Ned,” she said, “I’m so glad
you’ve agreed. It means so much to me.”

“Wait a minute,” I said. “I haven’t agreed yet. I just
want to know what sick thing you’ve got planned. Then
I’ll think about it and decide.”

Sick was the right word for what she was proposing.
During the weeks of deprivation, she must have been
thinking about the match constantly and spicing it up
in all sorts of ways. I could hardly believe her
words.

“Well, first of all,” she said, “it wouldn’t be
wrestling the way we did in high school. I’ve been
checking on those clubs where women wrestle in oil
while the men watch, and that’s a lot more exciting.

“I’d wear my bikini, and you’d wear a speedo. One of
the things the winner would have to do is get the
loser naked. Anything would be allowed, except for
something that would hurt the opponent on purpose. For
instance, you couldn’t twist my breasts, and I
couldn’t squeeze your balls.”

My mouth dropped. What was she talking about?

“Are you ready for my really crazy twist? With all
that oil, it’s going to be almost impossible to pin
somebody, so I thought of something that would also be
hard to do but still could be done from several
positions. The first person to put a hand up the other
one’s anus is the winner.

“I thought at first you could go for my vagina, but
that wouldn’t be fair, because it might be easier for
you — or harder — but it wouldn’t be the same as for
me.

“Anyway, that’s the match. It’s going to be really
exciting. Think of how humiliating it will be for the
loser. And I don’t intend to be the loser.

“Oh, I forgot one thing. During the match, we both
have to trash talk. We have to call each other names
and talk about all sorts of filthy things that we’re
going to do to each other. What do you think, Ned?”

“I think that I will never be able to understand how
you can come up with such bizarre ideas. Won’t the
loser get hurt?”

“That’s where all that oil comes in. It will help
protect the loser. The loser will be sore for a few
days, but that should be all.”

“It sounds like you’ve thought of everything, Robin,
but I still can’t get my head around this. I think of
us as pretty open about sex, and we’ve had fun
experimenting and getting a little wild. But we’ve
never done anything remotely close to this. I don’t
know if I’ll ever be ready for it.”

“That’s too bad, Ned,” she said, coming over and
stroking my face softly with her beautiful hands and
giving me a familiar look. “Because I’m ready for
something right now that I think you would like a
lot.”

Her amazing mouth locked with mine, and her tongue
plunged into me with weeks of pent-up frustration
driving it. My body trembled and I could feel myself
hardening.

Breaking our clinch, she backed away as we both gasped
for air. When she was able to talk, she began stroking
my face as she spoke. “You know, Ned,” she said,
“sometimes you can overthink something, and all it
does is make you miserable. What part are you going to
think about next week that you can’t think about right
now. I’ve told you pretty much everything. You just
need to trust me that this is going to be one of the
most memorable nights of our lives and go with the
flow.”

She began to unbutton my clothes and smiled as she saw
me trembling. I didn’t resist. She stopped for a
moment, but she already knew the answer when she
asked, “So are you going to do it, Ned?”

***

For a few days after that, I didn’t hear anything
further about the match, and she kept me so busy in
bed that I barely got to work in the morning. She was
so ravenous that I wondered whether I could have
cracked her if I had held out a few more days, but it
was too late now.

The first mention came from Darlene. “Do you have any
idea how expensive baby oil is?” she said to me when
she saw me at the club. She had made a beeline to me
to tell me that. She was smiling broadly, but it
wasn’t a friendly smile. Lascivious maybe, depraved
maybe. I felt as though I were standing in front of
her naked while she was licking her lips at what she
was about to do to me.

“Are we paying?” I asked, trying to keep it light.

She patted my ass as she said, “Don’t worry. Robin and
I have worked it all out. I have some connections to
get good discounts on everything we need. We’re all
set.” Then she reached around in front and stroked me
over my shorts. She had never done that before, and I
was glad that Robin wasn’t there, because I could
imagine her getting angry enough to think up something
even more bizarre for the match. I had to run into a
stall in the men’s locker room until my protrusion
went down.

“It’s a week from tomorrow,” Robin told me that night.
“We picked a Friday night, because that way we don’t
have to go to work the next day. The club closes at
10, and by 11, everything should be set up. I’ll be
there working on it with the girls, so you can just
show up at 11.”

I worked out at the club three times in the following
week, and each time either Sheri, Madison or Darlene
was there. And they were much bolder with me than ever
before.

“I’ve been watching videos of women fisting men
online,” Madison said one night as she got me in a
corner. She was standing in front of me and actually
reached down and began fondling me outside my shorts.
“They really turn me on. I hope I can keep from
jumping in and piling on.”

On another night, I was lying on my stomach on the leg
lift machine recovering from a heavy set, when I felt
someone approach from behind. I almost jumped out of
my skin as a hand slid up one leg of my shorts and a
finger tried to squeeze between my cheeks.

I looked up and it was Darlene with a grin on her
face. “Have you been practicing inserting stuff?” she
asked me, “like dildos or maybe a big thick cucumber.
Robin’s got a pretty good sized fist for a girl.” She
laughed and withdrew her hand.

The worst was Sheri. She followed me to my car one
night, but I didn’t see her behind me until I felt her
reach around me and plunge her hand into my shorts,
grabbing my member and starting to pump it before I
pushed her away. “I see you’re sensitive there,” she
said with a huge laugh. “You better be careful Friday,
or Robin’s going to play you.”

Usually, I see Robin at least once a week at the gym,
but that week, none of our sessions coincided. I
wondered if that was on purpose, and I wondered if the
groping by her friends was part of her psychological
battle plan. I didn’t bring it up in case it was.

We had a great night in bed on Wednesday, and I was
ready for another one on Thursday, but Robin said no.
“The night before the game, the athletes need to
conserve their energy,” she said. “Also, I want us to
be hot and horny when we step into the ring.”

When I walked up to the club the next night, I noticed
that even though all the windows were covered, light
was still coming out at the edges.

The front door was locked, so I pounded on it until
Darlene came and let me in and locked it behind me. I
followed her through the reception area leading to the
men’s and women’s locker rooms and into the large
carpeted exercise room. It had been completely cleared
of equipment was now almost totally covered by a
large, rubber mat that was thick and cushony.

Robin, Sheri and Madison were standing next to a
tripod with a video camera on top of it. The tripod
was extended so high that it almost touched the
ceiling, and the camera was aimed down at the mat. I
saw three other tripods around the mat that were just
a foot or two off the ground.

The reason for the light leaking outside was that even
though the room had no windows, there were so many
bright lights on stands, also high and low, all aimed
at the mat, that it seemed like high noon on a sunny
day.

Robin finished her conversation and came over to me.
“How much are you spending on this?” I asked her.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “If we run out of money, I’m
going to moonlight as a wrestler.” She gave a big
laugh. “No, really, I worked it into the budget. We
may have to skip a few dinners out and stay home in
bed instead. I hope you don’t mind.” She gave another
big laugh. I could tell she was really excited by the
whole scene. I couldn’t figure out what my attitude
was. I guess I found it interesting in a strange way,
although I was in no way enthusiastic.

“I think we’re all ready,” said Robin. “Do you see
what we’ve done with this big mat? The sides and
corners are raised a little and held firmly in place.
We poured a ton of oil on it, and this way it all
flowed into the center, where there’s a big puddle.
Even though we’re going to splash a lot, I promised
Darlene, we’d stay as close to the center as possible
so the oil doesn’t get on her carpet.

“I borrowed all the video cameras that are on the
tripods. I want to concentrate on winning and not
worry about whether the videographer is getting the
action. This way, we’ll have the action from so many
angles that no matter what we do, we’ll be in focus.
And Sheri and Madison have handheld cameras. They’ll
be walking around the ring and getting into the best
position so they can shoot great close-ups. Sheri does
video editing at work, so she’s going to put
everything together and even add music. I told her not
too much music and not too loud. I want to hear every
sound being made by our bodies and the oil.

“For fun, Darlene is going to play a role, too. We’ve
got a hand-held mike, and she’s going to be the ring
announcer. OK, Ned, let’s get it on. Take off your
clothes and come over to this side of the mat.”

She began pulling off her sweats. She was wearing her
bright red swimsuit. It showed a lot of cleavage, but
only on top. She didn’t like to shave or wax, so her
suit bottoms were modest. My speedo was much skimpier
than her suit bottom.

I took off the shorts I had put on over my suit and my
T-shirt and shoes and joined her and Darlene at the
edge of the mat. I felt like I was almost
sleepwalking. My brain wouldn’t accept that this was
reality.

Darlene got between us, and then we all faced Sheri
who was standing in front of us with her camera. We
waited a few seconds, and then Sheri said, “Action.”

Darlene lifted the mike to her mouth and started
speaking.

“Ladies and gentlemen, today’s match has been a long
time coming. Our two wrestlers are here for a grudge
match, and they are prepared to go all out to win.
First we have our Amazonian beauty with her towering
talent, Robin.” She lifted Robin’s arm in the air and
then brought it down and lifted mine as she said,
“Pitted against her, we have Ned, who’s not as big but
who’s probably stronger. Or is he? That’s what we’re
going to find out tonight.”

“Now, Robin and Ned, look at me. Here are the rules.
No intentional hitting, kicking or biting. No gouging
the eyes or twisting fingers, toes, breasts, balls,
dicks, lips — upper or lower — or any other moves
that are only for the purpose of inflicting pain.

“There will be two parts to the match. You will begin
by standing up and facing each other. The first round
will end when one of you strips the swimsuit off of
the other and raises it into the air. The winner of
that round gets to keep wearing a swimsuit into Round
2, which will begin with the loser of the first round
on hands and knees and the winner above in the classic
referee’s position. Round 2 will continue until one of
the opponents has his or her complete hand inside the
other’s ass, up to the wrist.

“Do you understand the rules, Robin and Ned? Good. Now
get in the center of the ring and stand facing each
other, about four feet apart. Don’t begin until you
hear the bell.”

Robin stepped eagerly over the raised lip of the mat
and then she almost slid down on her back before she
managed to balance herself. That prompted a big laugh
from her and her friends. I stepped in a little more
gingerly and slowly and kept my feet wide for balance
and as I walked and slid over the oil.

When we got in the middle, we both crouched down and
faced each other with a big pool of oil between us. I
looked at Robin. Her face was determined, but she also
had a little of that lascivious look she gets when
she’s turned on. I was totally confused. What could
she be thinking?

The bell rang, and Robin immediately lunged for my
knees. I stepped back quickly, barely keeping my
balance, to see her belly flopping into the pool of
oil. For a moment all was quiet as she lifted her head
up. I saw that her face had landed in the oil, and it
was running down her face and hair. She had an angry
look on her face for a moment, but then she laughed
and shook her head like wet dog and moved quickly
again.

At the same time I felt the drops of oil from her
shaking head landing on me, I also felt her hands
grabbing my ankles and yanking. In a moment I had
joined her in the pool of oil and my whole body was
also covered. Then we started grabbing, pulling,
pushing, sliding and spitting out oil.

We both tried some of our wrestling moves, but nothing
worked right in all that slime.

As I got more used to what would happen when we made
certain moves, I began to adjust, but Robin adjusted
faster. She was the first one to realize that she had
to focus on a goal and not worry about anything else
that happened. Her goal, she told me later, was
simple: get my swimsuit off while preventing me from
getting hers off.

The move that worked for her was a distraction move.
As we were jumbled up and twisting around in the oil,
she stopped moving for a second as if she was catching
her breath. I took the opportunity to rest for a
moment, too. Then I felt a slimy hand inside my
swimming suit, clasping my tool and starting to pump
it.

I yelled and jumped back from the hand. But I didn’t
notice that she had her other hand ready for me, and I
jumped right into it. The other hand had grabbed hold
of my suit tightly, and it wouldn’t let go. Then the
first hand joined it.

I tried to twist away, but she held tight, and my
movement whipped her entire body around me. As her
body began sliding away on the oil with her hands
still pulling at my suit. I twisted the opposite way,
and her body flew in that direction. She still
wouldn’t let go. How long could she hold on as I flung
her body around me? I wondered.

But she wasn’t thinking about that. She was adjusting.
The next time I flipped her, she knew what I was going
to do, and she was ready. A split second before I
twisted, she yanked down on my suit. It didn’t come
off, but it moved enough that the force of her flying
away from me continued the pull she had started and it
came down almost all the way over my ass.

I was startled and didn’t know what to do. If I sent
her spinning in the other direction, she’d probably
pull more of it off because of the way it was
positioned. I would be stripping myself. I hesitated,
but she didn’t.

As soon as she caught her breath from being thrown
across the oil, she struggled to her knees and then
pulled both arms straight up as hard as she could.

Because she was holding onto my suit, which was
already mostly off my ass, this sudden yank pulled my
whole body out from under me and I went sliding back
with my feet up in the air. That’s when she jumped to
her feet and yanked my suit up.

She was on her feet less than a second before sliding
down hard on her ass, but it was long enough to pull
my suit to my knees. I looked at her, and her face was
ecstatic. I tried moving my body in various
directions, but she just kept holding onto the suit. I
saw that if I stopped moving to reach down to grab it,
she would be able to pull it right off. She now knew
that she just needed to wait for me to make a mistake
or relax for a second and my suit was history. So she
rested while I thrashed.

Finally, a tiny bit of my brain revved up for the
first time, and I started thinking about my strategy.
I knew that she probably had me for Round 1, but if I
had any chance at all, it wasn’t with defense.

I sized her up. She was sitting and breathing heavily,
holding onto my suit, which was still at my knees, and
waiting until I gave her the opportunity to pull it
off. I knew what I had to do.

I pretended to kick my legs and try to escape her
death grip on my suit, but as I did so, I slid closer
to her and reached out and grabbed her bikini top. I
caught her by surprise and she screamed, “No!” But I
had two hands on it, and I wouldn’t let go.

She tried to pull away and twist just like I had, but
it didn’t work for her either. She stopped, and I saw
that she was thinking. I began moving my hands slowly
around her, one hand sliding on the oily bikini top
while the other one grasped it firmly. Then the first
hand grasped while the second hand slid. She couldn’t
stop me unless she let go of my suit. I was moving
steadily to the clasp.

She knew that, too, and with a tremendous effort she
turned and attempted to get up at the same time she
twisted around. With us both holding so tightly to
each other’s suits, this maneuver sent us both flying
and then slamming back into the oil and bumping and
sliding like crazy.

I didn’t let the move distract me from my goal. I was
almost there. In a moment, I’d have the clasp off. I
was surprised that she was no longer pulling away, but
had started leaning toward me with her upper body,
which was making it easier for me.

Then, she leaned even closer. Actually, she didn’t
lean, she fell on top of me. My hands pulling at her
swimsuit top now had no resistance. The top was going
over her bountiful breasts and they were springing
free in all their glory. I didn’t even need to unclasp
it. Now I had both hands pulling on it, higher and
higher. It was caught under her armpits for a moment,
but I kept pulling and now all I had to do was pull
her arms up with it and it would slide right off.

Then I pulled hard at the top and it pulled her arms
straight in the air. Her top slid over them, and I
held it in the air for a second and tried to wave it
when suddenly my feet slipped out from under me and I
splashed down into the oil again.

I was so focused on getting her suit off that I didn’t
see what Robin was doing when she fell on top of me.
Her body weight had pushed my legs together, lining up
the knees right next to each other, making it easy for
her to pull my swimsuit over them down to my ankles.
She didn’t yank but had gently slid them down while I
was busy working on her top. Then she waited, holding
tight.

She saw what I was doing and positioned herself. When
I pulled her arms straight into the air to pull her
top over them, her hands were still holding tight to
my suit, so I was also yanking my own swimsuit off my
feet, and that’s what made me fall back into the oil.

She waved my suit wildly about while screaming at the
top of her lungs. Her friends soon joined in the
screams as I slowly sat up.

After things calmed down, I heard Darlene’s voice
again on the portable mike. “The mighty Robin
devastates the opposition in Round 1, and she gets to
start on top in Round 2,” she said.

“Wait a second,” I said. “That’s not fair. I had to
take two things off and she only had to do one.”

“You knew the rules,” said Robin, sounding smug. “You
could have worn a bikini, too. The video would have
been even more exciting.

“That reminds me. I guess we were too intense to think
about anything else for Round 1, but remember, we’re
going to talk trash for Round 2. I know I will, and I
hope you get into the spirit, too.” I didn’t say
anything, because I was already starting to strategize
for Round 2, and I knew exactly what my first goal
was.

“All right, Robin and Ned, the same rules apply for
Round 2,” Darlene said. “Remember, the first person to
get a hand into the other’s ass wins, and once we have
a winner, the bell will ring. When it does, the loser
must let go of the winner and accept defeat.”

I got on my hands and knees totally naked, and Robin
got on her knees next to me, leaning over me with one
arm around my stomach. I felt her large breasts
pressing into my back.

I knew she was going to try to drive me straight down
flat with her weight, and the oil covering my hands
and knees would help her do it. She probably figured I
was going to try one of the classic escapes.

The bell rang, but I didn’t try to get away. Instead,
I quickly rolled under her so I was on my back. In a
real match, that would have been a deadly mistake,
because she could have easily pinned me, but that
didn’t matter in this crazy match.

As I rolled on my back, I slid sideways so that I was
at a right angle from Robin above me and as I slid, I
grabbed.

Robin was surprised, and before she could do anything,
I had both my hands on the elastic of her suit bottom,
one on each side of her ass. I pulled and the suit was
over her cheeks in a second and down to her knees.

She decided to lift up off me and then drop down hard
on my stomach, trying to knock my wind out with her
weight. But I was moving and pulling and so the impact
was softened. Now I knew what to do. I let go of the
suit and moved my hands to her cheeks. I grabbed them
and began pulling them apart. She probably thought I
was trying to finish her off quickly and she reached
down to pull my hands away.

As she did, I pulled her ass to me tightly and rolled
us both over so I was now on top of her. Then as fast
as I could, I got back to her swimsuit bottom and
grabbed it. I quickly lifted my body up and leaned
back while I was pulling. Her feet flew into the air
and her suit bottom was whipped off of her.

As it flew into the air, she scrambled away from me
and sat on her knees looking at me silently for a
second. Then a nasty curl of a smile started at the
corner of her mouth as she said, “You little twerp.
You must be proud of yourself. Well, enjoy it, because
in a few minutes you’re going to feel these long
fingers halfway up your intestine.”

I was taken aback, but it was nothing compared to her
friends. Almost in chorus, they said, “Whoa!” Neither
they nor I had ever heard Robin say anything like that
before. Neither of us had any time for dirty talking
when we made love. We were too busy. We might say
something like, “Please shift a little to the left” or
“Faster,” but that was about it.

I tried to get into the trash talking frame of mind
but was having a hard time. “Those fingers are too
pretty to get all smelly in my asshole,” I said. “But
your dirty mouth should fit just right. I’m going to
sit on that mouth and give you my blue plate special
for dinner.”

Robin enjoyed my feeble attempt while her friends
gasped. She had insisted that we both clean ourselves
out thoroughly before leaving the house so that we
could get down and dirty without getting down and
filthy.

Now the battle was on. The oil was splashing in all
directions, and I wondered whether the girlfriends
with the cameras were getting covered in it.

Both Robin and I knew that we could never accomplish
our goal on the fly. We had to get our opponent into a
locked position where we had time to start pushing
fingers into the anus and then forcing our hand to
victory. But as soon as one of us got a hold on the
other, the slippery oil allowed an easy escape.

Robin tried her distraction technique a few times,
pumping my tool and playing with my balls with her
greasy fingers. But I returned the favor and strummed
her bush with my fingers until I felt her clitoris.
Her pussy was all slimy, but I couldn’t tell if it was
from her excitement or the oil. She was responsive,
though, and it did distract her momentarily.

We were both getting tired and frustrated. This wasn’t
going anywhere. Robin decided to take a risk. She
moved on top of me in the 69 position and sucked my
tool into her mouth. Her slimy ass was right above my
face, and she was vulnerable.

But I didn’t have time to take advantage of it,
because I felt a finger going into my rear. While
working me with her mouth, she had reached around my
legs with both hands and pulled them back over her
head, pushing out my ass and spreading it a little.
Then she slid one hand down and stuck the finger in. I
tried to move and slide in the oil, but the finger
inside moved with me.

Her left arm was locked around my right leg, pulling
it back. Now my asshole was almost facing straight up.
She let go of my left leg because she knew she
couldn’t do much if she had to keep reaching around it
to put her finger in. The finger was pulled out of my
ass, but in a second, it was back in.

She had used her left arm to pull my right leg so far
back that my left leg came with it. That’s when I
realized how strong she was in her upper body. Now all
she had to do was move her right hand straight down
past my balls, and there I was, spread perfectly for
her. I felt a second finger go in. I moved, but again
her fingers moved with me.

Focus, I said to myself. How can I distract her from
her goal. It was just a matter of time before she
would work up to it.

I looked up and saw her ass above me. She was on her
hands and knees but trying to hold it up high and out
of my reach. I wrapped my right arm around her left
leg, as high and tight as I could, and began pulling
it back and down. As I pulled her ass to me I managed
to pull it down far enough so I could stick the index
finger of my left hand between her cheeks. I pushed it
up as far as I could. Paydirt! I felt her body tense
as I quickly added a second finger and began moving
them quickly in and out, matching the speed of her
fingers moving in me.

I said to myself, this is just a holding action. I’m
not going to be able to get enough leverage to push
all the fingers in from this position.

But Robin panicked and played right into my hands, so
to speak. She suddenly dropped her lower body down on
me and quickly slid back and rolled to the side a
little. With my fingers in the cookie jar, I was
forced slightly to my side, too. That’s when I felt
one of her legs go under my head to my neck while the
other leg went over my neck. Then both legs locked.

I heard some noise from her friends, who were
impressed by the move, and so was I. Her bush was
smothering my mouth and her tightening legs were
cutting off my air. Now she could smother me and knock
me out cold if she wanted and then stick anything in
the room up my anus. That wasn’t against the rules. I
needed to move fast, and I decided the best thing I
could do was copy her.

I began to lift my rear and move it around, pretending
I was trying to dislodge the three fingers that were
now inside me. Robin’s mouth was no longer on my tool,
and she was leaning forward watching her fingers
zooming in and out.

I began kicking my legs into the air as if I didn’t
know that would be fruitless. I heard Robin laugh and
say, “Does the little boy need his diaper changed? Is
that why he’s kicking his little legs in the air?
Mommy will take care of you soon, Sonny. Mommy’s hands
know how what to do. Soon you’ll be feeling really
special.”

The girls laughed as they heard this, but I wasn’t
laughing. I was kicking as high into the air as I
could while Robin’s left arm was pulling my right
thigh back and she was attempting to get four fingers
from her right hand into me.

Now! I said to myself. I couldn’t wait any longer.
This could be disastrous, but I was having such a hard
time breathing between her locked legs that I couldn’t
think of anything else. With as much force as I could
muster, I kicked into the air again, but this time I
didn’t kick straight up. Instead, I pulled my legs
backward in the direction she was pulling. In fact,
her pulling sent my legs back further than I could
manage by myself. I felt something between them and
hoped I was where I needed to be, and then I locked my
legs before they could fall down again.

Her scream told me I had succeeded. My legs were now
locked behind her neck, and as they fell, I pushed her
head down into my body. Even this didn’t stop her
fingers working inside me. There were four of them
now, and it hurt like hell, but I focused. I had to
consolidate my move. If she was able to slide her head
out from between my legs, I was as good as finished.

I closed my locked legs against her neck and pressed
as hard as I could. I felt her head pushed harder down
into my body and then I tightened my legs until I felt
that nothing could escape my vice. She was able to
turn her head to the side so she could breathe, but it
was immobile.

Her fingers never stopped, even though now she
couldn’t see what she was doing, But my legs smashing
her head against my lower stomach finally got a
reaction.

“You’re hurting my neck,” she yelled out. “That’s not
fair.”

I ignored her and said as loud as I could, “I can’t
breathe,” while pushing my locked legs even harder.

Then I felt her legs around my neck begin to slacken a
little. “Thanks,” I said and I relaxed my legs
slightly. “Move your neck to a better position right
now,” I said, “because I’m getting ready to tighten up
again.” I wondered if she would try to escape. But she
shifted her head a little and didn’t attempt anything.

Meanwhile, I caught my breath and looked around. My
head was locked, my mouth was in her bush, her ass was
at eye level and my arms were free. If I worked fast,
I still had a chance. I dipped my right hand into the
oil all around us and pushed a finger into her, then a
second. I used my left hand to pull one cheek to the
side so I had better access to her anus.

I didn’t have time to waste, so the third finger went
in soon after and then the fourth. As I got the fourth
in, I felt her thumb that had been outside of my anus
disappear. It was no longer there. I looked at my four
fingers going in and out of her and realized she had
tucked the thumb under the other fingers so all five
were going in. Now she was moving them all at
lightning speed, and she was also adding a little
pressure. I felt the pain of my anal muscles being
stretched.

I tucked my thumb in the same way and continued to
follow her lead and her pace.

She and I were now squirming and groaning without even
thinking about it because of the pain we were
inflicting on each other. But victory was our only
focus.

I realized that Robin now had the advantage, even
though we both had all our fingers inside up to the
second knuckle. Because she was bigger than me and had
longer arms, she had more leverage for the final push.

Then she surprised me again. I felt something on my
limp noodle. It was her blowing on it, trying to
distract me. Then her tongue started licking it. She
was pulling out all the stops.

“Dr. Robin is almost ready for you now, Little Ned,”
she said. “You’ve bent over nicely already. Get ready
to cough when Dr. Robin puts her hand into you all the
way to the shoulder.”

The girls laughed, but I wasn’t distracted. I could
feel she was starting to push past the second knuckle.
I tried to contract my anal muscles while pushing
harder myself, but she had that leverage going for
her.

She didn’t say another word and she stopped licking
me. She was groaning and panting from the pain of my
fingers in her anus, but it didn’t slow her hand
pushing straight down into my anus that was raised
high in the air for her convenience.

But I was also making progress. I felt her muscles
trying to tighten. She was also about to yield. I was
almost there, just a few more seconds.

Then I felt something horrible. It felt like a
bulldozer was plowing into my body and pounding my
insides to mush. Then it stopped, and I felt my anus
closing around her wrist. She had won. I heard her
friends cheering, but she wasn’t talking trash or
gloating. She was breathing hard and speaking as fast
as she could at the same time. She screamed out her
words but had to stop after each one for a breath. It
sounded as if she was in tremendous pain as she
screamed, “”Ned – I – won. Stop – now. Help! – Help! –
You – lost! – Stop! – Stop! – Help! – No! – No! – No!
– No! Nooooooooooooooo!”

I saw her friends rush over to pull me off of her as
she screamed, but it was too late. The last “no” came
as my fist plunged into her. I still don’t know
whether I just forgot the rules or I was ignoring
them, but my mind never stopped telling me I had to
get that fist into her. So I did.

I unlocked my legs and lifted each one slowly to the
side, as wide as I could, so they weren’t pressing
against her neck anymore. I waited for her to loosen
her choke hold on me. but she just lay there crying
softly until I said, “Robin, would you please get your
legs off my neck.”

“Oh, sorry,” she said and moved them. She also stopped
crying.

We both lay there exhausted with our fists inside each
other’s asses while her friends fluttered around us,
shooting video, congratulating us on a great match and
telling us they all had orgasms while they watched us.

After a while, I saw a smile come back to Robin’s
face, so I asked her the question I’d been thinking
about the last five minutes.

“What now?” I said.

She thought a moment and then surprised me once again.
“We’ve got to get our hands out of each other’s
asses,” she said. “I don’t know whether it’s less
painful or safer to do it slowly or quickly, but I do
know which way makes for better video.

“Darlene, Sheri, Madison, make sure you’ve got one
camera aimed at each of our faces and the other ones
shooting our hands in the asses from various angles.
Ned and I are going to have one more contest. We’re
going to make a fist that’s as wide as possible inside
each other, and then we’re going to see who can pull
the fist free the slowest. I want one camera on each
ass to shoot slo-mo.

“I want this to look like those birth videos we saw in
school, where the head comes out slowly and mother
looks like she’s being split in two. Understand?”

We followed her directions, but she lost control when
I was starting to pull the widest part of my fist
toward her hole and began to scream from the pain. I
stopped. “No, no, Ned,” she screamed. “Don’t try to
make your fist smaller. This was my idea.”

I made my fist smaller anyway and hoped she wouldn’t
notice. Later, she told me she did notice and thanked
me.

We almost pulled our fists free simultaneously and our
painful screams were in harmony. She didn’t ask anyone
who came out the slowest. Like me, she was in so much
pain that she didn’t care about anything at that
point. But she recovered faster.

The girlfriends were buzzing around us again, telling
us they couldn’t believe how big our holes were right
after we pulled out and how great it was going to look
in slo-mo. I listened but was too tired to say
anything.

Robin, on the other hand, perked up after a few
minutes, and she began participating in the
conversation about how the film might be edited, how
she wanted to see the raw footage from each camera,
what a shame it was that nobody else would ever see it
and so on.

After a while, she looked over at me and smiled. She
had wiped herself off and put on her sweats and was
off the mat. I was still sitting there naked in the
puddle of oil.

“Come on, Ned,” she said, holding up my shorts and T-
shirt. “Time to go home. The girls are going to clean
up.”

I got up slowly and walked to the edge of the mat.
Each step caused shooting pains inside my anus. She
handed me a towel to wipe the oil off me. I did the
best I could, but my skin was still slimy as I put my
clothes on, and I felt like I was sticking to the seat
in the car.

We were both hobbling as we walked into the house with
our legs spread wide so there wouldn’t be any friction
between our cheeks. We looked at each other and
laughed at how ridiculous we looked.

When we got inside our front door, I said, “I’m going
to take a long, hot shower.”

“Oh no, you’re not,” she said as she grabbed my arm
and started up the stairs.

“You’re crazy, Robin,” I said. “We’re covered with
oil, and every move we make is a pain in the ass.”

“I don’t know about the pain, but I’m excited about
the oil, and I’m really turned on by what we just did
in front of my girlfriends. I promise you the rest of
the night is going to be one of the best nights you’ve
ever had in your life.”

Of course, I gave in, and she was right.

I never did watch the video, even though she and the
girls tried to get me to because they were so proud of
the editing and production. Maybe I would have enjoyed
watching myself fist Robin, but I know that watching
her fist me would have been extremely uncomfortable.

About a year later, she mentioned at dinner that she
was thinking about a sequel. “What if we did a tag
team match,” she said. “We’d each have a big stud with
a huge dick on our side that we could tag if we got
tired. Only one of us could do this at a time, so it
would always be either us against each other or one of
us against a stud. The winning team would be the first
one whose stud was able to fuck one of us in the ass.”

I looked at her, and she returned my stare for a full
minute until she burst into laughter. “You should see
the look on your face,” she said. “Don’t worry I’m
only joking.” I don’t know if she was, but that was
the last time she mentioned any video ideas.

I get my money’s worth out of the video even without
seeing it because it really turns Robin on. She
doesn’t watch it on a regular basis because she says
it’s too special for every day. She says it’s only for
special occasions, maybe when we seem to be in a rut
or have some career or personal challenges.

I know when it’s a special occasion as soon as I walk
in the door and see that special light in her eyes
that tells me she was watching the video before I got
home and that tonight’s going to be a good, good
night.