son vs momNovember 14 2007 at 2:15 PM
Score 1.0 (1 person)
|gondal (Login gondal)|
from IP address 188.8.131.52
now get started and talk about son vs mom. aunt vs nephew or any women vs boy.and post photos.
Re: son vs momAverage Score 3.5 (2 people)
|November 15 2007, 7:02 PM |
son vs momAverage Score 2.5 (2 people)
|November 15 2007, 11:11 PM |
I don't have any son vs mom stories, but I seen a photo of Michelle Ivers standing next to her son, and I have no doubt she could physically overpower him.
vs sonScore 1.0 (1 person)
|November 16 2007, 8:35 AM |
female bodybuilder vs male bodybuilder ( same weight)No score for this post
|November 16 2007, 2:31 PM |
Who would win in a competitive wrestling match and why?
Re: female bodybuilder vs male bodybuilder ( same weight)No score for this post
|November 29 2007, 12:36 AM |
A female bodybuilder trained to wrestle would have an excellent chance of defeating a male bodybuilder in the same weight class, even if he were also trained, in a wrestling bout, particularly in a no time limit, submissions only match. Imagine the massive Lora Ottenad, who competes at 175 lbs, wrestling a MBB of similar weight range. I predict, other things being equal, she would take him. Heather Policky is another young FBB of massive proportions who could do serious damage to any male BB her size on the wrestling mat.
I did see stills of Karla Nelson, who sometimes is at 190 or 200, wrestling a male bodybuilder of at least the same weight, perhaps heavier. Both were in bikinis and fighting hard for victory, and before the match the guy was arrogant and insulting, pointing to Karla and promising to "put her in her place." They fought evenly for a while, and you could tell the muscleman was in shock at Karla's power. But gradually Karla gained the upper hand, becoming the aggressor, and when she wrapped her truly massive legs around his lower torso, she had him. He struggled desperately to escape, flopping around like a flounder on the mat, but couldn't break her scissors, and she slowly squeezed him into helplessness and submission. At the end he barely had enough strength to tap out in surrender, and after Karla released him, he had to be helped to his feet and escorted out of the ring by attendants holding him up on both sides.
A very convincing display of female vs male muscle power.
Mom vs SonScore 4.0 (1 person)
|November 16 2007, 6:34 PM |
Don't have THAT exact incident, but something that is close, or at least I think so.
In the 80's and in the odd neither world between 8th grade and high school I ended up in a really weird situation with a friend's mother. We ended up wrestling on a number of occasions, actually it evolved to getting together specifically to wrestle. Never any overt sex mind you, actual wrestling, she always work a bathing suit, and so did I. I enjoyed the wrestling, but I was also all about getting to rub in close with a real woman who I thought and was good looking. She was in her 40's, but at the time I didn't realize who was really in charge of this situation. I thought I was putting one over on her because I got to crop my first big time feels, but later I realized she was using me basically as a vibrator to masturbate. Not that I object, I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. At 13/14 to get to be able to get you hands on a woman's breasts, between her legs, and rub all over her was incredible. And the wrestling was fun and competitive, although she was clearly the superior. Skinny kid, so she had me in weight and a bit in height. It's that time of life where a adult woman is heavier, taller and stronger or at least as strong as the male. Can't ever go back to that now. But it was good then. I think it's the reason I have a fetish for one piece bathing suits. That's what she wore, and man, I still respond to a woman in a one piece.
hiScore 1.0 (1 person)
|November 24 2007, 3:33 AM |
what did you wear when you wrestled her. Did you ever get noticably aroused in the match? Did she? Did you ever notice a wet spot, stiff nipples, etc,,,
Girlfriend's MomAverage Score 5.0 (2 people)
|November 26 2007, 8:45 AM |
I don't have any personal experiences with my Mom but here is an account of my experiences with a girlfriend's Mom. I'm not sure if it is appropriate for this forum or not but I thought someone might be interested in hearing. I'll just post chapter 1 for now but if there is interest I will most more. There is actual wrestling in later chapters.
The following story is based on actual events in my life. Most of it is true but I have embellished a little to make the story a little more interesting.
I was 17 at the time and was dating a girl named Donna that was 16. I was about 6' and 170 lbs. at that time. Donna was a petite girl standing only 5'3" and she struggled to keep her weight above 95 lbs. She was always drinking protein shakes to try to put on weight. I guess she just had a very fast metabolism and she was always active and involved in dance and gymnastics lessons since she was a little girl and had just made the high school cheerleading squad. Although Donna didn't have any real obvious muscle development, she did have incredible legs and a nice well defined bicep when she flexed.
I grew up in the same neighborhood, just a few blocks from Donna. I had known her basically all my life and had only become interested in her recently since she had started to develop and had turned into a beautiful girl.
I spent a lot of afternoons and weekends at Donna's house ever since we started dating. I thought her mom, Diane, was the coolest Mom ever. She was divorced and Donna's older sister had moved out a couple of years ago so it was just Donna and her Mom that lived in the house. It was one of those homes that all the neighborhood kids just seemed to gravitate to. For one thing, they had a pool and a game room with a pool table, ping pong table, and foosball table, but mostly it was because of how Diane treated us as adults. She would even turn her head if we were drinking a few beers. She would insist that we stay at her house until we were sober but she didn't try to stop us from drinking. I stayed at their house so much Diane became like a second Mom to me except for the fact that I had a secret crush on her.
Diane usually gave us our space when we had a group of friends over but occasionally when we were all in the pool Diane would join us. Her body was nicely toned with barely a sag to her large breasts, a relatively flat stomach with just the slightest little bit of extra padding and flaring out to womanly hips and an unbelievable plump, round ass. When she would come out wearing a bikini, most of the teen boys would gravitate quickly to Diane and flirt with her, totally forgetting about their girlfriends. She had a better body than all of them and everyone knew it. None of the girls could compete with her mature, womanly body and they were always a little jealous but they all still liked Diane.
One Saturday afternoon, I was visiting Donna at her house and we were in her bedroom just talking and hanging out. We started wrestling around a little and I was playfully tickling Donna and she was laughing hysterically. Diane came to investigate and playfully told me to pick on someone my size. "How about you?" I said without really thinking. "You might be in for a surprise," she startled me by saying. We went back and forth with some good natured banter for a while and Donna thought it was hilarious. She kept egging her mother on and Diane was not backing down. I didn't give any thought to the fact that there was a chance that she could be stronger or able to beat me in a test of strength. The thought didn't even cross my mind that this might be a possibility.
In hindsight, I guess I shouldn't have been so cocky. Just guessing, I thought I was probably 3 or 4 inches taller and about 25 or 30 pounds heavier than Diane which wasnt that drastic of a size difference. I guess I just assumed that because she was a woman and I was a man (at least that's what I thought at 17) that I would be much stronger than her.
Donna finally suggested that her Mom arm-wrestle me. "I've arm wrestled both of you and I think she has a chance," She told me. Her Mom just played it down but my manly pride couldn't take Donna's comment and I had to prove to her, and her Mom that I could easily defeat her. We finally made our way to the kitchen table and got ready for our match.
Donna and I had arm wrestled a few times before and although she didn't pose a serious threat, she was definitely deceptively strong for her size. I could beat her in 10 - 15 seconds but with our size difference it should have been much easier. Donna gave me a better match than some of the guys we hung around with that were much larger than her. I started thinking about if her Mom was pound for pound as strong as Donna, that I may have underestimated her. It was too late to back out now; Diane had put her elbow on the table and was looking pretty confident.
We joined hands and agreed that Donna would start us. I decided that I needed to get off to a fast start and just power her arm down as quickly as possible and not even give her a chance to get into the match. I wanted to defeat her quickly as I felt that a long match would just give Donna ammunition and she would tease me forever about barely beating an older lady.
Go! Donna finally said and I got off to a quick start just like I had planned. I had her down almost half way before she could react and stop my progress. I was giving it everything I had but I couldnt budge her arm any further. What I feared the most was happening. She had stopped my progress and it was going to be a long match and I would have to wear her down and finish her off when her arm became fatigued. I eased up just a little to reserve some strength and found my arm moving backward. I tried to react and stop the progress but soon found our arms back in the starting position. Donna was cheering her Mom on and telling her to show me that all women werent weak. I had assumed that Donna would be cheering for me but I guess she wanted to teach me a lesson.
I managed to stop her progress and we were just locked at the starting position and we looked into each others eyes for the first time in the match. She started to get a mischievous smile on her face and I tried to smile back and act like I wasnt trying that hard but somehow I knew that she realized that I was giving it my all. I told myself to hold on, that I was in much better shape and that Diane would soon tire out. I lost track of time but minutes seemed to pass by without either of us being able to gain much of an advantage. One of us would put on a surge of strength but the other would react and bring us back to even. My arm was beginning to ache and I just knew that she had to be running out of steam. I suddenly became aware that I was sweating profusely. Drops of sweat began rolling down my face and dropping onto the table. I looked across at Diane and she too was flushed and starting to perspire but not to the degree that I was. I suddenly noticed that Dianes nipples were about to burst through her clothes. As it was Saturday, Diane was just wearing some gym shorts and a white t-shirt. Apparently she wasnt wearing a bra and the thin t-shirt was doing little to conceal her nipples. I was a little confused. Was this a reaction to the physical activity or was she getting sexually aroused? I wasnt sure about her but I couldnt help myself
I was getting sexually aroused. Im still not sure if it was because of the thoughts of being matched evenly by a smaller, older woman in a physical competition or if it was just the natural effect of looking at her protruding nipples.
Diane began to slowly but surely gain an advantage. I would manage to stop her progress every couple of inches but I was too tired to reverse her advantage. Finally after what seemed like hours but was probably more like 5 minutes, Diane had my arm about 2 or 3 inches off the table and was just content to wait until I tired out. I tried valiantly to make progress but Diane would match my strength each time and any small gain I would make was quickly reversed. Another couple of minutes and my arm was starting to tremble. I had nothing left. My mind kept telling me to go on but my arm decided otherwise. With one final surge, Diane forced my arm flat to the table.
No one said anything for a few minutes. We both set there trying to catch our breath. Even Donna was uncharacteristically quiet. I think she just realized that it may have been more than my male ego could take and was feeling sorry for me. Good match, Diane finally broke the silence and congratulated me. I searched for an excuse to explain how she had beaten me but nothing came to mind. She had simply overpowered and outlasted me. My ego was shattered and I didnt know what to say or how to act. I was devastated yet somehow I was more turned on than at anytime in my young life. I looked at Diane differently from that day on. Not knowing how to act or what to say I finally made an excuse and went home to contemplate what had just happened.
son vs mom wrestlingScore 5.0 (1 person)
|November 26 2007, 9:14 AM |
Hi to everyone! Wanna tell a story about my mom and me wrestling for the first time! It happened just a couple of days ago. We both watched freestyle wrestling on TV and then started to argue who of us is stronger and who'd be a better wrestler. We're both hot tempered and were at last on edge, and suddenly our quarrel turned to a spontaneous wrestling match (it's not correct to say 'wrestling match', in fact it was a tussle, but without kicks and punches). I am 17 y.o. guy, about 5'8" and 140 lbs. My mom is 38, 5'6" height and 128 lbs with dark shoulder-length hair, and we both are quite fit and toned. Mom used to play tennis a lot, and now work out in a gym 2 times a week. While wrestling, mom was wearing white socks, short tight shorts and a sleeveless sports shirt; I was barefoot, in jeans and a T-shirt. We started wrestling on a sofa, but then we slipped on the carpet and wrestled on the floor. At first I was dominating and even managed to put mom on her back and sat on her flat belly, but her arms were free and she could wrap them round my neck and to pull my head down. I lost my balance and fell of her on my left side and mom was free. She tried to push me on my belly, I pushed her away, but standing on one knee she was able to catch my arm and began to twist my wrist. It was very painful and I even thought of submission, but I managed to force my left hand back and push her chin up. She said later that it was really unpleasant. We stood on the feet and then grappled again. At first we just put our hands on the shoulders of each other and tried to make the other loose their balance. That didn't work for about 20 seconds and then I pushed my mom towards myself and managed to wrap my left hand round her neck and put mom in headscissors. She tried to resist and do the same with me, but I blocked her right hand with my right one. I decided to use a backheel and tripped her up. We fell to the floor, but I am on top and could turn my mom 'face to the floor'. She could grip me under my right knee and it was not easier to get free as she is really strong. But eventually I was sitting on mom's back just above her buttocks. Very careful, so that she could not throw me off, I turned 180 degrees and gripped her ankles. I thought that bending her legs in knees until her heels touch her buttocks would make my mother submit at once, but she is very flexible and I was afraid to hurt her seriously, so I tried not to push too hard, and although she groaned she didn't admit her submission. When I asked her later why she hadn't, she said she'd thought she would have had a chance to throw me off. I was not intending to give her such opportunity, so I turned back (it was not that easy) and first put mom's hands under my knees, then gripped her chin and applied camel clutch (I saw this hold in the Internet and on TV). I think that's not too dangerous, but very effective and painful. She screamed and submited just after 5-7 seconds. That ment that I won my first wrestling match versus my mom and the second versus a female (two years ago I wrestled a classmate girl in a gym, we both were 15, and she was about 5'5", I think 125-130 lbs - typical tomboy, but I won by pinning her.) My mom said later that she was a bit embarrased cause she thought she could beat me even though I am 12 pounds heavier. She really want a revenge and I think soon we'll make a true wrestling match. That's cool! We think about 20 or 30 minutes time limit, and the winner is the one who gains most falls by submission. Mom thinks that I could have just been lucky to make her submit once, but in many falls she will overpower me. She has even found today a site in the Internet which teaches how to apply various wrestling holds and says that next time she'll make me sorry about making her submit. We'll see:))
son vs momNo score for this post
|November 27 2007, 8:56 AM |
As a child, I became surrounded by muscle. Mom and dad both worked out heavily. I remember them arm wrestling sometimes, being very closely matched. I hated the time they spent at the gym, but I thought the pair of them looked very good. Dad was always of a smaller build to mom, but he won his fair share of comps too. When my brother hit his teens, he got the big too. I was maybe 7 or 8 at the time, and remember him coming home posing at his new muscles. Back then; he was still way behind mom or dad in terms of development.
The first time muscle caused conflict in the house, was after a comp. Mom had won her trophy, dad was placed way down the list. They came home and argued. Dad resented the fact that she has become more successful. Over the weeks, dad became a different person. Mom was getting to the same weight as him, but being shorter, she was more bulky. I remember one Sunday night, they arm wrestled after tea. My sister was crying, though she doesnt remember it. Mom beat him and that was the beginning of the change. Within 6 months, dad had left. He could not handle being weaker than his wife. Even though I was only 9 at the time, I remember feeling excited at seeing a woman be stronger than a man. We always remained close to dad, and in recent years, he and mom have been out for dinner etc, but he just could not accept the truth.
At the age of 11, I started to have some conflict with my brother. Nothing serious, just territory stuff. He was like the father of the house and would boss me about. At 16, he was now quite a muscular guy. I remember him pinning me down many times or making me submit if I didnt do my chorus. Typical big brother I guess.
When I reached 13, I began to embark on my first real wrestling matches. At this stage it was only play fighting really, but both my brother, and les frequently, my mom, would enjoy kicking my ass. It was about this time that I became interested in female muscle. I remember getting excited as I felt my moms bicep when we wrestled. For days I was wracked with guilt. I had gotten aroused slightly at my own mom, but I eventually realized it was the muscle, not the person. My brother was now 18 and embarking on his first competitions. Mom and brother tried to get me involved in the sport. I got a weights bench for my 14th birthday, but I was not very good and didnt enjoy it. I spent more time ogling muscle girls at the gym than lifting. I always felt mom was disappointed in my weakness. I was not a wimp, but slim and not a jock.
Between being 13 and 15, I wrestled with mom and my brother quite a lot. I was no match for either, though at this point, it was generally fun matches. Just after I turned 15, I asked mom if she would have me a real match. I have no idea why I asked her for that, as I must have known that she would really beat me easily. Still, she agreed. This would be the first of my 2 real matches with mom. I had seen mom and my brother go at it on the mat and it always intrigued me how well I could do. My brother was now 20 and just about getting the better of mom. Up until this point, mom had the upper hand. My first real match with mom was a disaster. She said she was going to not hold back, and I said that I wouldnt either. I remember trying to take her down by grabbing her leg, but I couldnt budge her. She then lifted me up and slammed me down, which winded me. She then continued to put several holds on me. She squeezed my leg between her thighs causing me to give in. Then came a full nelson, bear hug, legs scissors round my waist. After 5 or 6 holds, I realized I would not be able to get back at her so I asked her to quit. At 15 I thought I was a man, but mom showed me that I was still light years behind her strength.
Not long after that match, I wanted to get back some confidence and decided to ask my sister to arm-wrestle me. She was only 11 and an easy target. She played sports at school, but was a small, thin thing. We arm wrestled for the first ever time, and I won fairly easily. Pathetic really, but I felt quite pride restored for a while.
Nothing much muscle related happened for the next few years. I was 18 when the next incident happened. 6 months prior to this, my brother had come out as being bi-sexual. His boyfriend at the time was a lot younger than him. My brother was 23, Colin was 19. He was a bodybuilder too, and he spent a lot of time at our house. He was a really nice guy, easy to talk to. He was the first person I ever told that I liked female muscle, but it was maybe a mistake telling him. We were having a BBQ and both him and me were dressed in shorts and topless. Like I said, I was still pretty slim, he was my height but nearer 190llbs. We had both had a few beers and come inside. I decided to tell him about my love of female muscle, I had wanted to get it off my chest for ages.
A few months after that incident, my sister came into my room one night and boasted about the fact that she had started to work out with my brother. I laughed, but when she flexed, a small bicep was clear for all to see. Nothing happened at that time, but I began to fear that I could soon be relegated to the status of weakest in the house. Soon after, mom asked my sister to flex at the dinner table. Her bicep was clearly getting bigger, and having felt it, it was bloody hard too. It was a couple of months now since my sister had begun lifting, when she came home from school boasting that she had beaten one of the big boys in her class, at arm wrestling. I knew what was coming next as she challenged me to a match. Nobody else was present as we locked up on the dinner table. Her arm was as big as mine by now, and I found it very hard to hold her steady. I was almost 5 years her senior, but the 14 year old was too much. Her small bicep strained as she worked me down and slammed my hand down in a match that lasted about three minutes. She jumped up and down shouting that she was stronger. I had a bad feeling, though it also turned me on to have just been overpowered by a girl so much younger than me.
Over the next year my sister started to workout more seriously. She began to put on size at an amazing rate. I didnt really notice until, on her 15th birthday, we arm wrestled again. This time the bicep on show was far bigger than mine, maybe 13 inches. She looked so stocky as we sat opposite the table. This match lasted just two minutes or so. She was clearly stronger than me now and she loved it. It was around now that she went through that classic brother sister hate thing. I had always bossed her around as younger children, now it was her turn and she knew I was powerless. Many times, she would put me in holds or make me beg for her to let me go, just for the hell of it. She loved it. I remember one night, I was going to work and she decided that it would be fun to make me late. She pinned me to the floor and kept me there for almost half and hour. I couldnt get her off me. I admit, at times in that half hour, I was angry, at times upset, but also at times, I was turned on, though thankfully she never noticed.
Later that year, she was still kicking my ass on a regular basis in private, mom decided that it was time to try and get me to the gym. She hated me not joining in the family sport. I think she was ashamed of my physique. On holiday, we would walk down the beach, my skinny body next to the 3 tanned muscle bods. By now, my sister was far more muscular than me; mom was hoping that she would compete by the end of the year. She was 15, but looked more like 19 or 20 in her physical appearance.
Mom had this idea that if she could embarrass me; I may decide to beef up and join them at the gym. It was a Christmas family gathering at my aunts house when my mom set up an arm wrestle between me and my sister. I tried to get out of it, but the whole family urged us on as we locked up at the table. This match was a mis-match. My sister was now up to almost 14-inch arms and mine at around 12 were no match. She beat me in about 2 minutes with her right hand, then again with the left in half the time. I still shudder to think of all the horrified looks on my relatives faces. The day after, I told mom that I was not joining the gym and I resorted to calling female bodybuilders a bunch of freaks. Mom took exception to this and this was to be our second and final real wrestling match. I managed to take her down to begin with, but mom was still competing and was in prime shape. She got me in a move where her legs were wrapped round mine, and her arms squeezing at my body. I remember the ripped bicep was pushed in my face and I swear I thought I was going to cum. She let me go just in time and I apologized for my comments.
Mom had promised not to go on at me about bodybuilding, but she didnt let up. She began to arrange contests in our house to supposedly make me jealous of their physiques. Brother, Colin, mom and sister would all come down in posing gear and I had to act as judge. Sis and bro took it as a bit of fun, mom did it to shame me; I was in a strange situation. Looking at muscles up close does turn me on, regardless of which woman it may be. The fact was, this was my family and it was awful. I always felt so turned on, yet appalled with myself too.
I would have to wait until they all left, then run upstairs and masturbate over my hidden collection of muscle mags.
One time, Mom had gotten changed and jumped in the car to take my sister somewhere. I was so turned on; I went upstairs to let off the steam. I decided that since the house would be empty for a while, I would jerk off to my favorite female bodybuilding video. I put the video on in the main room and began to jerk off. I was about to reach climax when I heard the door open. Mom walked in just as I shot my load. It was one of them moments when nobody really knew what to do or say. She made the first move and turned off the TV, which still had some massive built woman flexing for the camera. I sat down on the sofa, she joined me.
I said I was sorry and was blushing red. I was waiting for her to go mad at me, maybe even hit me, but she was so cool about it. She made a joke about her having bigger hands than me, that kind of broke the ice and made me relax. She asked me if I was bi-sexual, I said no. She asked if female muscle turned me on. Dumb question, I said yes. She asked if I got turned on when she or my sister posed for me. I said no, though I doubt she believed me. She said that we all have out fantasies and turn ons, that was fine, but mine was awkward in a house of bodybuilders. She said it was best if I didnt wrestle her or my sister any more, and there would be no more posing. I agreed.
Ironically, it was about a week after this that I had another bad experience. I was due to go out on a date with a really nice girl. She had arrived and was waiting on the sofa while I got ready upstairs. My sister bumped into me on the landing and laughed at my smart appearance. She stopped me from going downstairs and said to me, Does your new girlfriend know you get beaten up by your little sister?
I tried to push past her but couldnt. Be a shame if I held you up and she found you pinned to the floor she said. I should have made a run for it, but I just said to her, You wouldnt dare. Like a red rag to a bull, she grabbed me round the waist and threw me to the floor. She had me on my back, pinned with my hands to the carpet. I couldnt move and the more I struggled, the more aware I became that I was getting turned on. My sister kept my 2 hands to the carpet with one hand while flexing and tickling me with the free hand. As she moved around, she knocked my erection with her leg and it set me off. I panicked. I tried so hard to get her off, but I had no chance against her. She didnt say anything, and just held me there for several minutes. She then raised up, laughed and walked downstairs as I raced to get changed.
Not long after this, my sister decided that bodybuilding was not for her. She gave up the sport and lost the muscle definition she had. When she turned 17, I was now 21, we arm wrestle for the first time in almost 2 years. Even without the bulging muscle, she beat me in about 20 seconds. Not long after that, she decided to get back into the gym and started serious bodybuilding.
That was 2 years back. Mom still works out and competes in veteran and senior tournaments with good success. My brother competed a few times, but no longer does. He still has an amazing physique though. My sister had competed in 3 competitions now, winning 2 junior titles and gaining a second place in her first senior. Mom says she has the potential to make it al the way if she wants, though she is still torn between bodybuilding and fitness. We last arm wrestled about 3 months back. She beat me in about 15 seconds. She is almost able to beat mom, but
Wrestling my MomScore 5.0 (1 person)
|March 17 2012, 12:10 AM |
There was a time in my life when I wrestled my mom.
Though objectively pretty, Mom was a bit of a tomboy. Partly this was because Dad left when I was six - he worked abroad in Canada a lot and one day they just decided the marriage was over and he was going to stay out there. I think he's still there, whatever. Anyway mom was already pretty good at the "dad" chores and I guess had to take on the rough n tumble mom persona to compensate.
I was a late developer, noticably short for my age at about 13, and was close to Mom for obvious reasons. We used to watch TV together on our big-ass couch on a saturday - not specifically wrestling, although for a while that was one of the shows. On one occasion I was getting finding the remote and blocking my mom's view, and quickly this descended into me deliberately moving to block her view and she tried to see around me, and then she was trying to pull me away and I was play wrestling back. She had held me down on the couch and threatened, jokingly, that if she had to do that again I'd be doing the dishes. Truth is, I always used to do the dishes anyway. That morphed into a regular dish fight - the rules being, roughly, when the credits stopped, we would pounce on each other on the couch, and whoever got the pin didn't have to do the dishes. I wouldn't even call it wrestling but there you have. Mom was bigger than me but she let me get her 50% of the time.
I started to sprout around 14/15. We didn't always "dish fight", but it was still one of our things when watching the wrestling. She said I was getting quite strong and wondered if I ever thought of doing wrestling at school. I kind of liked the idea, but didn't think I'd be any good at "real" wrestling. Mom thought that was nonsense - she wrestled in college and she could tell I was good. She said she'd show me some real moves if I fancied giving wrestling a go. So our dish fights became a bit more of a practice of moves and I tried the wrestling at school. To my shame, I gave it up pretty quickly - 3 monnths I think. I'd say I just didn't like the coach. Unfortunately, Mom had already bought me a singlet and I felt bad about that because we didn't have money to throw around. So when I told her I was giving it up I add "but we can still practice, right?" to which she said yes.
Practising had become less about mom showing me moves now and more about a short best out of 3. Feeling bad about the singlet I would sometimes wear that - which became a more "serious" tussle, and the dishes rule came back in. When I wore the singlet Mom would also make an effort and tended to wear a short sleeved leotard and those shiny tights from the eighties. I'd say it was about the thrd or fourth time of our serious tussles when I found myself with an erection in the midst of our match. In a singlet, there was no hiding it. I froze and mom thought I had injured myself and asked what was wrong. I went bright red and she saw. She tried to talk but I ran out of the room and changed.
When I calmed down we spoke again. She asked if I saw her in a sexual manner, and obviously I said emphatically not. She thought that it was "almost certainly" natural at my age and if it didn't bother me, it didn't bother her, but how important it was that I saw her as a mom and not a sexual figure. After talking through the awkwardness, I felt relieved. We ended up changing back and had another match. I got an erection again almost immediately, she told me to ignore it and focus on "not getting your ass kicked" and sure enough the erection subsided. I told her afterwards that I was still embarassed but I really looked forward to our matches and didn't want to stop them, and she said she felt the same. Subsequent matches I wore looser clothing, and the erections came and went, but I soon ignored them and they didn't embarass me any more. I started wearing the singlet again for our special matches and dealt with my arousal in the same way.
I'd say it was about two months later when Mom said she'd got a surprise for us, and it was a "dishes match", so I got changed and came down to find she had moved the furniture aside (as normal) and instead of the bed sheet over carpet, there was about six gymnastic mats laid out (she'd got them from Goodwill). I got an immediate erection again just from the excitement of it. By then, we both ignored it. However, this time the erection stayed hard and I was beginning to get anxious about it. Mom and I were now fairly evenly matched, so we both really went for it, and she had me pinned face down on the mat, trying to turn me over. My erection pressed against the mats, I was completely turned on, petrified at being turned over because I could sense the damp patch forming. Mom was riding me hard trying to get her feet under my legs to turn me over, and that wasn't helping. As she finally succeed and had me trapped I submitted but the WORST had happened - I had cum in my singlet. It was unmistakable. Mom wasn't sure how to react but she handles crisises well and told me to get cleaned up and we would talk about it.
Mom's first suggestion was "I think we may have reached a point where it is no longer a good idea for us to wrestle". I agreed. We went a month without doing so and there was always that awkwardness on a Saturday afternoon. Eventually I blinked first and said that I missed our matches. Mom said that she did too but wasn't sure how we could continue. I suggested that I could wear a condom under my singlet, to desensitise me. She thought about for a while and agreed to give it a go. For whatever reason, it worked - in fact, I barely got an erection the first time which meant that the condom fell off. With some relief we continued our weekly sessions, me wearing a condom. I didn't tell her though that in subsequent matches I still ejaculated when we wrestled. I got away with it the first two times but she saw the signs of it the third time. I don't think I ever saw my mom cry until then, not even when she got divorced. I was 16 by this stage.
I talked it through with mom and asked why she was crying and wasn't this normal for a boy, and she said that she had made a mistake and let this go too far and was a bad mother. I assured her it wasn't but that's when she confessed that she got turned on by the wrestling too and thought that's why she found a way to keep it going with the condom when the right thing to do was to stop it entirely. It became clear that we both looked forward to the wrestling matches, like it was the best hour of the week. I said that I was no longer a child and it was crazy that we should give up something we both looked forwrad to. We asked some hard questions about whether we regarded each other sexually, and that we didn't, it was just the wrestling. Finally we agreed to try to continue on the basis that we would start slow and tell each other what we were feeling.
What an eye-opener that was. I told mom how I liked being in a grapevine and the rubbing and she liked it when I used a crotch grip to turn her on her back. We both liked applying and receiving body scissors. We started wrestling more openly, using crotch holds etc, bringing in the body to body rubbing as we tussled. Inevitably I would orgasm. More frequently, so did mom. At the end of each match we would talk and ask if we wanted to stop. If not, we would look forward to it next week.
I was coming up on 17 and had started dating a girl. Nothing sexual, but we were going steady. When Mom found out she sat me down and said "I think it is time to stop our matches permanently." Our wrestling technique had become a blend of submission style and virtual masturbation, so it was clearly more than a guilty pleasure, and for once I agreed with her on this. We agreed to have one more match that weekend, and that would be that. Mom asked if I had any requests for her outfit (she had about three). I asked if I could write down my requests. She said "okay..." not sure why I wouldn't simply ask. It was clear from my request slip:
round 1 - black leotard
round 2 - leopard print thong bikini
round 3 - nude
She said to me that if she agreed to round 3, there had to be no crotch to crotch grinding - that would lead to sex and that was "way too far". I agreed. And so we wrestled... a hot sweaty match with more than three falls - the nude round though being more gentle and we made each other cum in the final submission. It was early that evening and after a couple of hours we began to clear away the mats which mom was going to throw out, symbollically. We decided to have one last match, nude from the start. Again we worked each other into holds and at the same time rubbed each other pleasurably, grinding together close to orgasm til mom pushed me off "remember the rule here". We gripped each other's crotches and whilst faux-grappling rubbed each other off to orgasm.
That was our last wrestle ever. We don't speak about it except the odd knowing wink or look, and I have fond memories still.
Wrestling and Boxing with MomNo score for this post
|April 23 2012, 12:59 AM |
My mom and I used to have all sorts of fun wrestling.and boxing She was very strong and fit and we had some great matches. We even used to wrestle in the backyard in our swimsuits (hers was a 2 piece).
My mom also taught me how to box. She was great at it and we had some good battles. I think she was a better boxer than wrestler. She would often strip to her bra when we boxed and it semed ok to me. I was always bare chested and we had some great slugfests. She and I traded some hard punches and at first she would win after knocking me down a few times. Later on as I got older and better the bouts were more competitive. We would box 2 min rounds with a 1 min rest period.. Our longest bout was 12 rounds and it was a tough fight. We wore 8oz gloves and if knocked down gave the other the chance to get up and ready. my aunt lived down the street and she would come down and refereee for us. She boxed too and I watched her and my Mom box bare knuckled once. The both wore these tight capri pants that went to the calves and just bras. They looked like those bare knuckle boxing matches in old movies. My mom called it prize fighting. My mom and I would spar bare fisted and they were great workouts. One time my Mom said it was ok to boc bare knuckle but keep the punches below thge head. She and I boxed that way and it was exciting and rough. We ended up clinching and grappling alot and my aunt had to always break us up. My aunt had a daughter and she would come down and I would box her alot. when mom and my aunt weren't around she and I would box bare knuckled and my cousin would strip to the waist as would I. That made it more real to us and we felt more like prize fighters then. My cousin was a good boxer but i won most of our fights, usually knocking her down several times.