It was easy to break his hold once we were standing, and I whirled to face him, still a little pissed off, but not so much that I was going to lose control of my temper. Coach had told us over and over again that the one who gets mad on the mat is the one who loses the match, and I wanted to beat Anderson more than I ever had.
We circled slowly, “feeling” our way with our arms, neither of us wanting to tie up just yet. Then, just as I lunged forward, so did Anderson, and we came together in a tremendous SLAP of flesh upon flesh. I felt something hard under my foot, and realized I’d stepped on his when Anderson yelped and shoved me away.
“Watch it, you piece of shit,” he snarled.
“It was an accident,” I snapped back. “Don’t get your panties in a bunch!”
Anderson gave me a look of pure hatred and disgust. He came at me with his arms outstretched; I figured he was going for another collar and elbow and decided to let him come to me. The next thing I knew, I was flat on my ass after he’d shoved me backwards and I’d lost my footing.
“Oh, sorry,” he said with a smirk. “It was an accident.”
As I climbed slowly to my feet, my insides seething, Mr. Anderson’s voice penetrated the pure rage in my head. “This was supposed to be a wrestling match,” he said, “but it’s up to you boys if it stays that way. Okay with you, Reynolds?”
Dad nodded.
So that was that.
We locked up again, and this time I got him in a tight headlock. I shifted my weight slightly, then send Anderson flying over my hip and down to the mat—with all of my one hundred and eighty-five pounds coming down right on top of him. I could hear the breath leaving his body with a very satisfying WHOOSH!
I had Anderson’s face dug into my pit, and I grinned a very nasty grin at his squirming attempts to free himself. His shoulders were on the mat, of course, but somehow none of the four of us seemed interested in counting pins at this point. This wasn’t about wrestling anymore. This was about dominance.
Which is why I “accidentally” let him out of the headlock. He instinctively went to his stomach—and I was still on top of him. And I was still hard.
But this time I wasn’t going to ignore it. Oh, no. I ground my hips into his ass, even as my arms slipped under his and clamped on a tight full nelson. Illegal, yes, but at this point, the rules were out the window. I leaned down and whispered into his ear, “You like that, don’t you, you little bitch?”
To really rub his face in it…I literally rubbed his face in it. The mat, I mean. I pressed down on his neck, driving him face first into the mat. I could hear muffled curses coming from him, but his face was pressed into the foam rubber and he couldn’t really let loose with all the things I knew he wanted to say.
JiminQueens2 (38)
3/08/2014 6:40 PMIt was easy to break his hold once we were standing, and I whirled to face him, still a little pissed off, but not so much that I was going to lose control of my temper. Coach had told us over and over again that the one who gets mad on the mat is the one who loses the match, and I wanted to beat Anderson more than I ever had.
We circled slowly, “feeling” our way with our arms, neither of us wanting to tie up just yet. Then, just as I lunged forward, so did Anderson, and we came together in a tremendous SLAP of flesh upon flesh. I felt something hard under my foot, and realized I’d stepped on his when Anderson yelped and shoved me away.
“Watch it, you piece of shit,” he snarled.
“It was an accident,” I snapped back. “Don’t get your panties in a bunch!”
Anderson gave me a look of pure hatred and disgust. He came at me with his arms outstretched; I figured he was going for another collar and elbow and decided to let him come to me. The next thing I knew, I was flat on my ass after he’d shoved me backwards and I’d lost my footing.
“Oh, sorry,” he said with a smirk. “It was an accident.”
As I climbed slowly to my feet, my insides seething, Mr. Anderson’s voice penetrated the pure rage in my head. “This was supposed to be a wrestling match,” he said, “but it’s up to you boys if it stays that way. Okay with you, Reynolds?”
Dad nodded.
So that was that.
We locked up again, and this time I got him in a tight headlock. I shifted my weight slightly, then send Anderson flying over my hip and down to the mat—with all of my one hundred and eighty-five pounds coming down right on top of him. I could hear the breath leaving his body with a very satisfying WHOOSH!
I had Anderson’s face dug into my pit, and I grinned a very nasty grin at his squirming attempts to free himself. His shoulders were on the mat, of course, but somehow none of the four of us seemed interested in counting pins at this point. This wasn’t about wrestling anymore. This was about dominance.
Which is why I “accidentally” let him out of the headlock. He instinctively went to his stomach—and I was still on top of him. And I was still hard.
But this time I wasn’t going to ignore it. Oh, no. I ground my hips into his ass, even as my arms slipped under his and clamped on a tight full nelson. Illegal, yes, but at this point, the rules were out the window. I leaned down and whispered into his ear, “You like that, don’t you, you little bitch?”
To really rub his face in it…I literally rubbed his face in it. The mat, I mean. I pressed down on his neck, driving him face first into the mat. I could hear muffled curses coming from him, but his face was pressed into the foam rubber and he couldn’t really let loose with all the things I knew he wanted to say.
Tyger (106)
3/13/2014 10:01 PM(In reply to this)
this just gets hotter and hotter!