женскихsingle combat



Childhool impressions

Русская версия

Two seemingly minor events which I witnessed in my childhood stirred up my sexuality and built up some stereotypes for years to come. Both events occurred in the vicinity of Leningrad where my grandma and I were vacationing in Summer. I was about eight or nine year old.

Besides my grandma and me (we occupied just one room), a host family lived in the house – a wife with a husband and a sister of the wife. As a matter of fact, we didn’t see the man - according to the sisters, he was very sick and ‘amused himself’ in an in-patient facility. Once, I woke up in the late morning and found myself alone; it looked like my grandma had gone for food shopping as she usually did every morning. The sun shone brightly and I felt that Summer freshness which may be remembered all your life. Then I heard muffled voices from the host’s part of the house. I came out into the hallway and looked through the small glassy panels mounted into the door admitting to the host side of the house. In order to see what was going behind the door, I had to raise myself on tiptoes. Looking through the glass panel I saw the two lively talking sisters standing in the middle of a large light-filled room. These full-bodied women seemed to be old to me even though they shouldn’t be older than 30-35. The younger one was Tonya. Both women wore in flimsy morning gowns or robes; Tonya’s one was open and I was able to see her underwear: tight bra and hot knickers. Actually, it was strange – usually if not at work, the women were always busy with domesticities. But at that moment, both looked relaxed and to judge by their poses and quizzical faces, they didn’t hurry anywhere. The room was almost empty: a table and chairs at the corner constituted all its furniture; the floor was covered by a whitish carpet. For no visible reasons, I just experienced inexplicable interest in these women, in their bodies and in whatever was happening and would happen between them. I had a gut feeling some mystery, something out-of-bounds but I didn’t realize what exactly it could be about. Despite the uncomfortable tiptoes position, I was gazing at like one entranced. My foreboding of something extraordinary had not deceived me: both sisters stepped a little back, quickly peeled off their robes and all the sudden tore at each other like a couple of wild cats, locked their arms and began wrestling. I was shocked; I had never seen wrestling women or girls, not least wearing underwear. My heart started beating violently and I was afraid they would hear it; I was so enchanted by this spectacle that didn’t want any interruption. If a stranger accidentally saw this action, he would consider it as a brawling but I was able to distinct anger-driven fighting and trying of conclusions. I had had some experience in wrestling with other boys while had never brawled. It was clear to me that the women just pitted their strength against each other; seeing that they had excessive strength. That contest turned out to be very intriguing and exciting for me – nothing in common with boys’ romping or men’s wrestling matches which I had seen on TV. I literally freaked out from the sight of their hot knickers shuffled on sizable butts and the massive boobs rolling under the tight bras. I guess, in fact, this friendly contest lasted just a few minutes but this flashback remained in my memory for years.

Early in the game, the women pushed and pulled each other attempting to take the opponent down. They went hard standing against each other. At that moment, I would be unable to express in right words what I saw; now I can say it was a feast of feminine element and feminine power. I heard their heavy breathing and wheezing even through the closed door. The older one wrapped her arm around the neck of her sister, squeezing it and bore heavily on Tonya attempting to take her down. (We boys were familiar with this wrestling technique calling it “deadly lock".) Tonya feverishly resisted by setting her thigh against her opponent’s thigh but was unable to keep her balance under the load of the massive body; she eventually was crushed down and two heavy bodies dropped with a thud followed by brief screams, Much to my annoyance, the wrestlers got into the obscured area, so I had to bob up and down to see what was going on the floor. It was the most exciting moment. Tonya turned out to be more nimble in par terre and quickly found herself on top. She handily grasped her opponent’s arms, overturned her to her back and was holding her shoulders on the carpet for a while. The older one attempted to resist but quickly got exhausted and limpened. “Enough!” she burst out. Tonya jumped up playfully and exclaimed: “I won! Hooray!” I was very disappointed because the last stage of the contest was the most frantic – watching Tonya’s swinging buns covered by the tight knickers and two pairs of appressed boobs, I felt unexplored enjoyment and I caught myself at picking at my pants at the place where my hardened doodle was located – for the first time I experienced that specific pleasure… Having recovered breath, the women picked up their robes and… noticed my jumping head. They blushed a bit and wrapped up in their robes. I stood rooted to the spot as they came to the door. Having thrown the door open, the older sister asked me, “Well, was it fascinating?” while Tonya looked at me with an interest like at an adult man and impaled me with eyes, so I wanted to curl up and die. “Go and don’t spy anymore”, she gently smiled displaying dimpled cheeks and postured herself to stick out her breasts…

The rest on the summer, I was dreaming about Tonya; I imagined how I wrestle with her, overcome her resistance and pin her down. Naturally, nothing else would come to my mind then. Every time I came across one of the sisters or both of them, I recalled their match. Since then Tonya became the object of my dreams; I imagined her physically contesting with me or with some other stout woman. Sometimes, seeing a portly woman, I imagined her contesting with Tonya; such dreams turned me on.

Girl watches wrestling Later in the summer I happened to witness another scene which also contributed into my daydreams. Once, walking through woods with my grandma, we tripped across a big meadow. Already approaching the meadow, I heard murmurous woman's scream. At the woodside, a fascinating sight opened before us: across the meadow, two topless men in bloomers were wrestling while a girl wearing a gaudy sundress was jumping around and screaming. Obviously, her screaming didn’t express fear or concerns about the men’s well being – she acted like an ardent fan or a football freak. She tore around the wrestlers with a passionate look on her face, reflexively tidying her hair and pulling down her dress. This contest was very different from a friendly contest between two sonsy ladies like the one I overseen in the hostess’ room; these two wheezing men fought tooth and claw and gave it everything to finish on top. At first glance, it was not clear if it was a brawl or just a wrestling duel even though they didn’t use fists. Anyhow, with witness of the girl, the guys fought hammer and tongs like the dickens trying to win at whatever cost. I was surprised that my grandma (being not really old then) was watching the spectacle with acute fascination not paying any attention to me. The guys threw each other onto the ground with abandon, jumped up and rushed at each other like lions again and again. But I was fascinated not so much by the struggle as by the girl watching it. Overwhelming with passion, she was like a bundle of energy; she literally was howling like a crazy. Like Tonya, this slender girl deeply stuck in my mind interspersing with Tonya in my daydreams… In a few minutes, the wrestling match came to the end – one of the guys managed to push his arm through his opponent's armpit and across his neck, interlocked both arms and began choking the opponent and holding his back against the ground. The girl started jumping for joy yelling loudly: “Go, go!” The guy losing the game foolhardily resisted like hell but the top guy tightened the iron grip choking and pinning his opponent. The girl vigorously applauded shouting: “That’s it! Sasha won!” My grandma also applauded saying, “Well done!” At that moment, the girl noticed us and turned color. The wrestlers rose to their feet and dust down. Both – the winner and the loser didn’t look too confident – they cast a glance at the girl who seemed to be the real boss there. (Probably she was the one who pit them against each other.) She approached the winner and gave him a resounding kiss on the cheek. He attempted to hug her but she pushed him away saying: “Not here!” She turned around and rapidly headed for a forest trail followed by the exhausted wrestlers… I didn’t discuss the incident with my grandma but she decided to lecture me about the knight etiquette and the way old gentlemen honorably competed over a lady. She even told me about a duel between two Junkers over her. Although, fortunately, that duel finished without serious blood, I was surprised why she was so proud of that murderous contest once it was not her merit. The grandma gave me advice: to learn how to fight - just in case. I assured her that was familiar with some wrestling techniques and had had some experience in that activity; so she was very satisfied.

The two summer events stick in my memory and significantly affected my psyche and perception of the sex matters. The very first time I noticed a girl’s interest, was in the 6th or 7th grade after I defeated a classmate in a wrestling encounter in the schoolyard. One of ‘attendees’ of the match, the favorite class beauty offered me to take her home and generously allowed me to carry her bag. It must be said, it didn’t have any continuation because her heart was still busy with our favorite good-looker named Sergey.

A few years later, in a summer camp I got unexpected interest from an athletic girl a few years older than me. She was seriously involved in the sport of volleyball and a half of men’s team courted her. That girl gave me an important life lesson. During our walk in the woods, I offered her to wrestle with me - at that moment I didn’t know how to approach to a girl, so I tried out my dreams about wrestling with a girl. Unexpectedly, she took the challenge with ease. At the start, she furiously resisted but after I flew into a combative rage and took her down, she suddenly eased and murmured into my ear: “Stop it, remember, no matter how a girl looks athletic and physically strong, she is a vulnerable creature and a man may not treat her so roughly.” After these words, I lost my bearing and for the first time in my life, I discovered what a woman was about… Since then, I have never wrestled with women.

I have often pondered the question: why a physical contest between opposite sex persons turns on both men and women. While it is more or less clear why men’s fighting attracts women (male animals always fight over females), it is puzzling why fighting women attract and turn on men? And not just me but many. Moreover, even a sight of women watching a men’s fight might be perceived quite salty. In fact, I have not found the answer... Interestingly, when having close relationships with women, I have never imagined them wrestling neither with me not with anyone else. However, having abstract erotic dreams, I imagined wrestling between big ladies and sometimes that hot girl whom I came across in the meadow who was consumed with desire watching men fighting over her.

Alexei Bauman
April 2014

>> Combat and Gender

>> Fighting spectators

>> Stories

>> Arranged fights

Пишите Нам / Contact Us

Последнее обновление:

Last updated: