Moms Stockings My Sons Cum Bucket
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The Bucket ListChapter 14 free porn video
It took me a whole day to get my body back in sync with California time. Sunday morning I forced myself to go down to the gym. There was MaryAnn, on her back on the weight bench under about one hundred and seventy pounds finishing her last couple of reps.
"You are amazing," I said.
"Thanks, I hear you had a pretty interesting last couple of days. Come on, let's go into the combat room and work it off."
When I got into the room, MaryAnn was already putting on her workout gloves.
"Come on, get your gloves on, we'll take turns working the bag. I always found that the best way for me to get out my frustrations and to get back the feeling of being normal again was to pound this bag into submission."
She stood in front of the bag and began to throw punches from all angles, the thuds of her punches as they landed, filled the room. In my mind I pictured myself on the receiving end of those punches, thinking this is the woman that you really want but can't work up the courage to go after. I was punishing myself over the guilt I felt. I was so wrapped up in my thoughts that I didn't even realize that she had stopped throwing punches.
"Anytime you want to begin is fine with me."
"Sorry, I guess I zoned out for a second."
I began to emulate her as best I could, but my punches weren't as hard, or as fast as hers. When I thought I couldn't throw any more, I counted out another ten and then stepped back to let her have her turn.
We alternated for about a half an hour, until I thought I was going to die.
"OK we're warmed up now, let's put on the twelve-ounce gloves and go a couple of rounds."
She must have sensed the sheer panic that washed over me.
"Don't worry, I was only kidding, besides I'd never want to hurt you; you know that right?"
We walked out of the gym, her arm over my shoulder. After showering we met downstairs for breakfast.
"I hear you got to see the estate in Hawaii."
"Not really, I was sent to deliver a package to Joe for his meeting this weekend, I was probably on the ground no longer than nine hours and returned that night on the red eye."
"Well, I've never been there; but I hear it's gorgeous"
"I guess, if you like views of the Pacific, cool breezes, warm sunshine, all in a tropical paradise; then I guess it's gorgeous."
"You sound a little bitter, did anything happen?"
"No, nothing happened. I guess I'm still a little bit tired, that's all. How was your trip to San Diego?"
"Everything went fine, I w..."??
"What was that?"
"Nothing, I had a great time, saw some old friends, made a couple of new ones. What do you say we spend the day relaxing by the pool?"
"I could think of nothing I'd rather do."
"Good, go get your bathing suit. By the way, Joe had me buy you a new one while I was in San Diego. He said your old one didn't go with your new California beach bod. I hope you like it."
I went up to my room. There on the floor outside the room, was a shopping bag.
When I got to the bathroom, I looked in the bag and took out what looked like a pair of woman's underwear. Speedo was written on the waistband, it was white, and made of some sort of stretchy material.
'I can't wear this in public, I may as well be naked.' I put on the suit, tucking myself in as best I could, and put on an old football jersey that I had. I stood in front of the mirror, shrugged my shoulders and went downstairs and out to the pool area. I sat on one of the lounges and waited for MaryAnn. When she got there, she stood and modeled her new suit and cover up. She spun around and undid the cover up. There was less material in her two pieces than in my one. I could feel the blood, surging into my cock.
"Stand up and take off that jersey; I want to get a good look at you, stud."
I had no choice. I pulled off the jersey, and tried to hide the bulge in my suit.
"Wow, I had no idea you were getting so ripped," she said as she gave me the once-over from head to toe and back up to my bathing suit.
"I see you really like my suit as well."
"You're beautiful."
I think we both started blushing. She held out her hand for me and, when I took it, she threw me over her shoulder, carried me to the edge of the pool, and flung me in.
When I came up, I saw her walking back to her chair.
"Aren't you coming in?"
"Not in this suit; this one's only for showing off."
I swam laps until I could tell that my erection had gone down. I got out of the pool and headed up to the other lounge chair. MaryAnn opened her eyes, and then opened her mouth.
"Turn around," she said.
I did, thinking that there was something out on the beach to see. When I didn't see anything out of the ordinary I turned back around. MaryAnn was grinning and said,
"I don't think that suit is supposed to be for swimming either."
I looked down at the suit. You could see everything that was underneath, and it was as if I had nothing on. Totally embarrassed, I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around my waist. I sat in the chair; my face must have been scarlet.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know it would do that," she said, "but, you know you have nothing to be ashamed of. With all the hard work that you've put into it, you should be proud of your sexy body and want to show it off once in awhile."
Talk about throwing gasoline on an open flame, here was a woman, with a nearly perfect body, practically naked herself, telling me that I had a sexy body.
My hard on came roaring back, and all I could get out of my mouth was,
"Thank you."
The sexual tension between us was becoming thicker by the minute, as we both sat there waiting for the other to make the first move.
If she had rolled over and asked me to put lotion on her, I think I would have lost it altogether. Instead, James came out of the house holding a FedEx overnight letter which he handed to me. I opened it; inside was another envelope from Joe. I was almost afraid to open it with MaryAnn sitting there. I pulled out the sheet of paper, read it, then handed it to her.
"He's got to be kidding me. I'm not doing this."
She read it, smiled and turned to me and said,
"You have no choice, you've gone too far to stop now."
I looked back at the note again.
Number 3 - do a wrestling session with a female wrestler.
In a note below it read, 'Have MaryAnn begin your training as soon as possible'.
"We'll start tomorrow morning."
The next morning, when I got to the gym, MaryAnn was sitting on the floor, her legs spread wide and her face nearly touching the floor.
"Get down here and start stretching those leg muscles; I don't want any pulled muscles on the first day."
As I imitated her as best I could, she explained about session wrestling.
"I haven't talked to Joe yet so I don't know what he has in mind for the two of you. Session wrestling usually involves one man and one woman. The woman is usually the professional meaning she gets paid to wrestle. The man is the one who pays. What he gets in return depends on the woman and the rules that are established beforehand. Most of the time it's not sexual, although I know of some women who use wrestling as a form of foreplay, but this usually is with their boyfriends or husbands. Sometimes guys just like to get beat up by women; in that case the sexual experience is usually just one sided. For most guys it's just the competition itself that they crave and they feel more comfortable holding and being held by a woman rather than a man."
"What are the rules?"
"That depends. Sometimes you wrestle until one wrestler is pinned and admits that he cannot escape; or you wrestle until there is a submission by one wrestler. Depending on the competitive nature of the woman or her level of viciousness, this can result in a lot of pain or injury. Most of the woman that I know that do this type of thing, know their own bodies and are pretty good judges of how much an opponent can take before they break, so serious injuries are rare."
"You know women who do this sort of thing?"
"Yeah, I went to school with a couple of women who, after graduation, got into the business as a way to supplement their incomes. OK, that's enough stretching; let's go into the combat room and I'll show you the basic holds that are used."
We entered the room and went to the center of the mat.
"First, let's work on your stance; you want to start off in a slight crouch, your knees bent, legs about shoulder with apart with your left leg slightly ahead of the other. Your weight should be evenly distributed, making it easy to move in any direction, either offensively or defensively."
I got into the stance; I felt pretty comfortable. She took up the same stance in front of me. I was already intimidated by the look of power and determination on her face. I couldn't imagine having a stranger in front of me. We started to circle, every once in a while she would fake a lunge at my forward leg and I would jump back defensively.
"Good reactions; but remember, this is wrestling not dancing. Sooner or later you have to actually touch each other."
'Not if I have anything to say about it' I thought.
She held her hands up in front of me, fingers spread, inviting me to grab hold of her hands. I did, our fingers interlaced. Before I knew what was happening, my arms were being forced downward and twisted, and my wrists bent backward. I was on my toes, trying to relieve the pain, after about five seconds she reversed directions and had me down on my knees, then released my hands.
"That was a test of strength. Never get into a test of strength with anyone unless you're pretty sure you're actually stronger than they are."
I got to my feet and assumed the position.
Her arm shot out and grabbed the back of my neck as I took hold of her waist. The next thing I knew, my head was being held between her side and her arm. Once again there was pain, a lot of pain, as I tried in vain to slip my head out of her vise like grip. After a few agonizing moments MaryAnn released me and said,
"That was a side head lock, I had control of you and could have taken you to the mat or squeezed until you passed out."
We assumed the starting position again. This time I tried to be the aggressor, figuring that it was better to be on offense than defense. I was able to get under her arms and pull her across my leg and down to the mat, with me on top. I could feel her arms working their way inside my grip and soon lost control. As I twisted, trying to remain on top, I felt her legs wrap around my waist. I was on top of her, looking into those gorgeous blue eyes, when I felt the first jolt of pain as she began to tighten her legs around me.
"You should really try to avoid getting in between a woman's legs ... when you're wrestling that is. With most women, the majority of their strength is concentrated below the waist. In the gym, it's not uncommon to see athletic women doing leg presses with a thousand pounds on the machine. When you're caught in this type of hold, you're not going to be able to unlock her legs by using your arms. Most of the time it just results in more pain, so you might as well just submit."
To emphasize what she just said, she squeezed me hard for ten seconds. It felt as if I was going to be cut in half. Then she released me; I stayed on my knees trying to catch my breath.
"Are you ready to continue?"
She put me into several other holds, each designed to make me submit. She picked me up into a front bear hug, her hands in the small of my back her head tucked in under my chin. After that she got behind me, worked her powerful arms under my arms, her hands locked together at the back of my neck.
"This hold, the full nelson, is more about control than about getting you to submit; although I have heard of women who have dislocated an opponent's arm or shoulder before they released the guy."
She forced me down to a sitting position on the mat, my arms still locked helplessly over my head, and then I felt her legs wrap around my waist.
"This, on the other hand, is a submission hold. If your opponent gets you into a hold like this, you're finished. She can break your back if she has enough upper body strength and is not careful."
Suddenly I felt her legs tighten and begin to exert downward pressure, at the same time she started to lean backwards pulling my upper body with her. For a brief second I felt as if I was being torn in two; then she released me.
I rolled off of her and ended up on my back staring up at the ceiling. The next thing I knew MaryAnn was lying on top of me, looking into my eyes, smiling that sweet smile of hers. I was just beginning to enjoy the feeling of her body as she pressed down on me. I felt her legs wrap around mine, her feet secured themselves at my ankles, but my mind was already heading in a different direction entirely. My body was just beginning to get the message, when I heard her say,
"This is the last submission hold for the day, it's called a grapevine."
Suddenly I felt my legs being spread apart; I was still enjoying the feeling of her body rubbing on my emerging erection, when the pain began. First in my knees and then in my inner thighs as her legs stretched further and further apart.
"This is why being flexible is so important," she said as she pushed up off me, holding my lower body tight to the floor.
As the pain intensified, I screamed out,
"Oh God, I Give, I Give."
She immediately released the pressure; untangled her legs from mine and rose to her feet.
"That's enough for today; let's get you upstairs and into a warm bath."
She helped me upstairs and into my room, she sat me on the bed and started the water in the whirlpool tub. For a brief second I thought she was going to join me, but instead she came out of the bathroom and headed for the door.
"Don't let the water overflow," she said laughing as she closed the door.
I spent an hour in the tub, easing the pain from every part of my body. Before this morning, I thought I was in pretty good shape; now I was beginning to realize just how dominant MaryAnn could be, it was both intimidating and exciting at the same time.
When I finally got downstairs for breakfast, MaryAnn was already finished, sitting at the table waiting for me.
"John, I'm sorry if I was a tough on you before, but I wanted to make sure you realized that this is not going to be easy. These women take this very seriously; many of them hold grudges against men in general, feeling that they have been suppressed, ignored or in some cases abused and treated as second-class citizens. Others just want to prove that they are equal to a man and can do anything a man can do. Still others already know that, they are just in it for the competition. That's the kind of women I want to find for you guys."
"I understand, don't worry about hurting me, I'm tougher than I look, just don't kill me, OK?"
"I can't make any promises..."
We both broke up laughing, 'what a kidder ', I thought... 'she was kidding, right?'
"From now on, I'll show you more submission holds and the best ways for you to avoid or escape them. In your case, this is not going to be a match where we train you to win, this is going to be training so that you survive."
If she was trying to boost my confidence level, she was doing a poor job of it.
For the next three weeks, I trained every morning, learning various defensive moves, building up my strength and endurance, and learning more about myself and my feelings for MaryAnn. Up until then, I never knew that I was what they called a submissive; that I wanted to be dominated by a woman. The more we wrestled, the more I enjoyed the feeling of her body dominating me; the feeling of helplessness when she had me in a hold; even the pleasure of the pain when she made me submit. Yet I also wanted to please her, to try my best, to make it harder and harder for her to make me submit.
I didn't see much of her outside of our training. She told me that she was working with Joe in the afternoons and when she wasn't training him, she was busy making the arrangements for our sessions. Finally, during dinner on Thursday of our fourth week of training, Joe announced that the session was scheduled for that Saturday morning.
"Because we are going to be wrestling two different women, we can't do this together. MaryAnn will accompany you and give you whatever support she can. I will go to my session alone, Bart will drive me. Good Luck to us both."
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