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I was humiliated and pissed off. Allen and Rose had behaved like jerks, and then, of course, there was Glen. I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that a younger and larger man could lose a fight to a guy who is essentially a geek. Even I’m taller by a couple of inches. Either way, they didn’t deserve to get away with their behavior. I did what I did, and the consequences will be what they are.

I turned out the lights in the kitchen and dining room. I just wanted to go to bed. Glen was sitting shirtless on the couch in front of the TV in pajama shorts. He had bruises on his shoulder from where Allen had been rough in pinning him down.

“I heading upstairs,” I said. “Hopefully it will be quiet on the other side of the wall tonight.”

“You’re in your nightgown pretty early,” Glen replied.

“Just tired.” Halfway to the landing, I saw a light flash on our patio; the security light had turned on. A moment later there was a knock. “Who could that be?”

Glen pushed the button on the remote to turn the TV off and went to the door. Looking through the peep hole, he groaned. He glanced back at me and opened the door. Rose stepped inside followed closely by Allen.

Rose pulled a sheet of paper from the pocket of the sleeveless housedress she was wearing and waved it in the air.

“What’s the meaning of this?” she demanded.

I looked at Glen as he must have realized I’d officially notified the condo board of the constant noise from their unit. His eyes grew a little wider.

“Listen,” I said. “You can’t behave the way you do, you need to be courteous to the people who live next to you.”

“They’re threatening to issue a fine for disturbance,” Allen said. “If they do, you’re going to pay for it.”

“Listen, Allen—,” Glen started to say, but was cut off as the smaller man slapped him across the face. He yelped and held his hand to his cheek.

“I see you didn’t learn your lesson the other night,” Allen said.

Glen took a step back, and I had to close my eyes; it was an act of cowardice. Allen swung his slender arm again, striking him. Glen tried to cover his face from being hit, but Allen seized his wrist and ran the fingers of his other hand into Glen’s hair, pulling him forward. It appeared a strange dance as they both shifted feet trying to gain ground or at least not to lose it. Glen pulled at Allen’s wrist to free his hair from his grip. Somehow Allen slipped his lower leg behind Glen’s and twisted, sending my husband to the floor, but he held his tight grip on his hair. Allen pulled hard, and Glen whimpered as he was off balance and landed on his tummy. Before he could move or roll, Allen sat straddling his lower back and started to pull Glen’s arm behind his back.

“No, you don’t,” I said. Running down the few steps into the living room I reached Allen and yanked back on his shoulder. “I’m just going to have to beat you up myself.” I managed to unseat him, and he moved around sitting on his bottom. Somehow Glen had the presence of mind to get onto his knees and throw his arms around Allen’s chest, driving him down. I stepped back feeling the beginning of a smile that my husband was going to step up.

I was about to yell my encouragement, but I felt Rose’s hand cover my mouth as she moved up behind me. I twisted around and pushed her. We were both the same height. I knew she had recently reached her seventy-second birthday; she was heavier than me, with fleshy arms and a larger chest, but I was over three decades younger and reasonably fit.

“Don’t even think about it,” I said. “I don’t want to hurt you, but if you touch me again, I might not be able to help it.”

Rose grabbed the front of my nightgown and yanked hard. I could hear the light fabric tear just as her hand slapped me hard. I sank both hands into her hair and pulled her from side to side as she began wailing on me, her hands feverishly striking at my face and arms and shoulders. As old as she was, each blow stung. I was desperate to stop her from hurting me, so with one really hard pull, I got her off balance and we both went to the carpeting.

I stole a glance at my husband. He was kneeling so that he had one knee on either side of Allen’s right leg. Glen was struggling to hold his shoulders down, but like me with both hands twined in Rose’s hair, Allen had the same grip on Glen. It was a mistake to look away. I felt Rose’s fingers circle my throat and begin to squeeze. I couldn’t believe a woman of her age had as much strength in her fingers; she was cutting off my air. I disentangled my fingers and grabbed at her wrists to pull her hands away, and she rolled me onto my side.

Glen let out a sharp cry. I was just able to see both men. Allen had driven his knee up into Glen’s crotch. The look on my husband’s face was enough to realize that Allen had found his mark. The smaller man seized the opportunity and circled his arms around Glen’s chest and rolled him over onto his back, straddling him. Glen weakly reached up to push him, and Allen intercepted his wrists and shoved his arms down. Glen pulled his knees up into Allen’s back, but the smaller man just leaned forward, adding to his leverage of pinning Glen while avoiding the ineffective attack Glen was attempting. I saw Glen struggling to lift his arms but my view was suddenly blocked as Rose threw her body over mine.

She straddled my upper tummy and pressed her sizable chest down over my face. I lost my grip on her wrists and tried to push up against her shoulders, but I couldn’t lift her weight. I kicked my legs and squirmed, but Rose was planted heavily on top of me. She pushed her self up a bit and pressed a forearm over my throat and grabbed my right wrist. The flesh of her upper arm jiggled, but I couldn’t keep her from forcing my arm down, and I was choking from the arm bar.

I tried to get words out. “Please, you’re choking me…”

“Aww, poor dear,” Rose said. She pulled her arm up and quickly pinned my other wrist as I gasped for air and coughed several more times. “Still think you can hurt me?”
I shook my head vigorously. Even at seventy-two, between her weight and her surprising strength, I knew she was more than capable of handling me. I looked to my side. Allen was on top of Glen, he’d moved up, his knees were on Glen’s upper arms and his thighs were squeezing my husband face.

“Mom, I need something to tie his wrists with.”

Rose stood up and undid the thin rope belt on her housedress and handed it to Allen. Like a cowboy roping a calf, he quickly bound my husbands wrists and then stood up. He put his foot on Glen’s chest.

“I think it’s pretty safe to say, you’re not much of a man when it comes to fighting,” Allen said, looking down at Glen and pressing harder with his foot. “I can’t imagine how humiliated your wife must be.”
“Get up,” Rose said, giving me a slight kick at my leg.

I rolled onto my knees and stood up shakily. My arms were shaking a little from the exertion of fighting Rose.

Allen moved over to me. “I like your nightie, it’s a shame it got torn, but the view is nicer for it.” I couldn’t help the feeling of revulsion, as Allen’s scrawny body stood in front of me. “To the victor go the spoils.”

Allen circled his arms around me and pulled me close. Keeping one hand behind my back and sliding his other hand up and down my arm, he planted a kiss on my mouth. I tried pull back, but the hand on my arm went to the back of my head and held me closer as he dipped his tongue into my mouth, forcing me to French kiss him.

“I’ll leave you with that to think about,” Allen said. “You might want to consider which kind of man you’d prefer to be with.” He turned to Rose. “I think we can go back home now. I’m pretty confident they’ll be retracting that letter.”

They both went to the door and out, slamming it behind them. I knelt next to Glen and untied the belt from his wrists, and rubbed my mouth with the back of my hand. I suddenly felt exposed and vulnerable even though I was in front of my husband.

“I’m going to put something else on,” I said turning toward the stairs. “Come up when you’re ready. Tomorrow, I’ll write to the board and tell them the situation has been resolved and we wish to withdraw our complaint.”

As it went up, my thoughts turned to Allen’s kiss and wondered if he would press his advantage in the coming days.

“Here they go again,” I said. Propped up against my headboard, the arguing between my neighbor and his mother passed through the thin walls of our condo. Their unit and ours were attached and, unfortunately our bedroom backed up to theirs. I looked over at my husband. “I can’t take this constant bickering between them.”

Glen put the book he was reading on the night table. “What do you want to do about it?”

“I think it’s time to let them know we can hear every word they yell at each other.”

Allen, was a single, nerdy guy with a frail body, a receding hairline, and blotchy white skin. At 53 and still living with his mother, he was frustrated with his own life and it always came out as anger toward his mother. It also goaded me that he was always flirting and trying to invite me over for coffee. His mother, Rose, was the typical Jewish matriarchal mother who domineered her son.
“It’s getting late,” Glen said. “Maybe they’ll shut up soon.”

“You know they can go for an hour or more, and I need to get some sleep. I have several meetings tomorrow,” I said. “Come on, it will only take a few minutes. I’ll come with you.” I got up and put my robe on over my pajamas. I tossed a tank top at Glen as he swung his legs off the bed. He was wearing pj bottom shorts, but it wasn’t like we were going for a walk around the condo complex.

We walked to their front door and heard Allen and Rose as they continued to bitch at each other. Glen knocked quietly on the door. Nothing happened. Frustrated, I rapped my knuckles against the wood, loud enough to get some attention. The yelling stopped and a few seconds later, the door was yanked open. Allen stood there in just a pair of white briefs. I didn’t know what to do, so I simply looked down.

“What do you want?’ asked Allen.

Glen, cleared his throat and opened his mouth to explain just as Rose appeared in the doorway wearing a long chiffon nightgown and matching robe. At seventy-five, she still looked attractive. I was afraid he would chicken out from saying anything, so I started.

“Rose, you need to know that when you argue with Allen, we can hear you.”

Rose just shrugged, and Allen put his hands on his hips.

“It kind of keeps us from falling asleep,” Glen said with a sheepish look.

“We’re free to do whatever we want inside our own home,” said Allen, as he looked up from one or us to the other.

“We’re just asking as a favor,” I said.

“Go home and leave us alone,” he replied. Allen started to close the door.

“We’re just going to have to complain to the condo boards,” Glen said.

“Excuse me?”

“I mean it.”

Allen reached out and give Glen a little push back from the door. My husband looked a bit surprised and went to push back, but Allen gave him a quick tap to his tummy and grabbed him by the front of his tank top.

“Hey,” Glen called out just as Allen circled his skinny arm around his neck and forced him to double over. Glen reached with both hands to pull his arm away from his neck and seemed to struggle doing it. I shook my head trying to understand how it was my husband in the headlock and not Allen.

With a twist and a nudge, Allen pushed Glen and the both went to the floor, Glen on his side and Allen draped over him. Allen pulled his arm free, pushed Glen’s shoulder down putting him flat on his back, and then pressed down chest to chest. Glen kicked with his legs as Allen used both hands to seize his wrist and forearm forcing it to the floor. Glen’s other arm was trapped underneath Allen, by his side and as it tried to lift his pinned arm, I could see by the expression on his face, that he couldn’t, not with both of Allen’s hands holding it down.

“Glen, just push him off you,” I said with growing frustration.

“I’m trying,” he replied, grunting and panting.

“I see your husband is a wimp,” Rose said. “My Allen is the one in charge.”

“Shut up, Rose,” I said. I felt her fingernails dig into my arm and turn me toward her. It was followed by a sharp slap to the face. I heard myself gasp in shock, putting my hand to my face and looking into her eyes. What I saw scared me. I had no doubt that even at her age, I would be the one to wind up with the worst of it.

I turned my attention back to Allen and Glen. Allen and pushed himself up and using his weight to hold Glen’s arm down, but as he did, he swung his leg over Glen’s thighs and sad heavily on my husband’s tummy. Glens body twitched as the wind was driven from his stomach. Allen quickly followed with a slap to the face and then grabbed a handful of hair, banging his head onto the floor several times. Blindly, Glen reached up to grab Allen’s throat, but he seized my husband by the wrist and started to struggle with his arm.

Glen bucked with his hips and wavered with his arms, doing everything to unseat Allen from on top of him. As they struggled, I noticed Allen had small, but tight, tiny biceps while the underside of Glen’s arms were smooth with little hint of any muscle. I’d never realized or noticed that before. Glen grunted and whimpered as Allen very slowly forced both arms down, pinning his wrists close to his shoulders.

The fight seemed to go out of Glen as I saw the tension release from his shoulders, as if he knew he couldn’t handle Allen. He moved up tighter onto Glen’s chest, not letting his grip go on his wrists. It became very clear that Allen must have been enjoying his domination over my husband; the front of his briefs clearly showed the outline of an erection. I looked at Rose. Her arms were folded across her chest, gazing down at her son. A smug smile crossed her lips as if approving of her son.

“Still want to contact the condo board?” Allen asked Glen. My husband was looking up at him, a look of fear and disbelief registered. He silently shook his head. With a couple more slaps to his face, Allen stood up and pointed to the door. “Get out now before I continue your lesson.”

Glen wasted no time opening and walking briskly on the stone path back to our unit. I took one last look at Allen and followed. I somehow got the impression by the look on his face that he and I weren’t going to be done quite so easily.

When I was 11 or 12, we used to go to a private beach community in Brooklyn. Members had rentable cabanas, a place where you could change and prep meals and snacks. They were big enough to fit a table and chairs inside.

During the summer of that year there was a boy my age on the beach who started bullying me after seeing me talking with a girl I liked. He loved to taunt me and ask me why I thought a girl like her would want to hang out with a wimp like me. I told him she’s a really nice girl and wouldn’t like him since he was acting like a jerk. The first couple of times he just laughed and walked away. Finally, on one Saturday I saw him push his face to hers and kiss her. I took great satisfaction when she pushed him away and kicked sand at him. It was impossible not to laugh.

“I told you she wouldn’t like you,” I said.

He looked at me like he was really pissed and started running at me. He was a little shorter than me, but chubbier, so I turned and started to run back toward the cabana our family had. I ducked under the raised boardwalk to shorten the distance. Before I could make it through, he caught up to me and pushed me down onto the sand. He jumped down on top of me and we scuffled, I kept trying to pull away. At one point I managed to roll onto all fours, but he jumped on my back, pressing me face first onto the sand. He grabbed my right wrist and twisted my arm up my back.

“So, you’re a big hero, huh?” he taunted. “Now she’ll see what a little weak wimp you are.” He pushed my arm up higher and it felt like it would tear off my shoulder. I yelped in pain and pleaded with him to let me go. “Are you going to go crying to your mommy?”

“Stop, stop,” I yelled. “I’ll tell my dad.”

“Go ahead. I could probably beat him up too.”

By the time he had tackled me under the boardwalk, we were close enough that my dad heard me yelping and he called out. “Jimmy, is that you? Are you okay?” He came under the wooden framework and saw Benjamin sitting on my lower back. “Hey, get off him,” my dad said as he came up to us. He grabbed at Benjamin’s upper arms and dragged him off me. “What do you think you’re doing?” Benjamin yanked his arms free and walked off. “What was that all about?”

“I saw him kiss Charlotte, and she pushed him away. I laughed at him cause I told him that she wouldn’t like him.”

“And so he beat you up?”

“Yeah.”

“Come on,” dad said.

I didn’t know what he had in mind at first, but we walked toward the cabana Benjamin’s family rented. As we got closer, I saw Benjamin’s dad sitting on a beach chair with a beer. Like his son, he was kind of chubby in a flabby way, with a hairy belly and soft chest. My dad didn’t hesitate.

“I wanted to let you know your son was bullying my son,” dad said.

“And why would he do that?” the man asked. He turned in his seat and seemed to look both my dad and me from head to toe, as if sizing us up. “Maybe your son deserved it.”

“By your answer, at least I know where your son gets being a jerk from.”

The man put his beer down and stood up from the beach chair. The top of his head came up to my dad’s shoulder. Where the man was more like a bear, my dad was smooth skinned and kind of slender. “I don’t like your tone,” he said.

“Then maybe you should teach your son some manners and to not be a bully.”

“And maybe, I should teach you some respect,” he said and gave dad a little push.

“Don’t touch me,” dad said.

“What are you going to do about it?”

My dad went to push him back, but I think that’s exactly what the man wanted. He shifted and reached up, sliding his arm around dad’s neck and pulling him onto the carpeting inside the cabana. I felt someone come up behind me, and then heard Benjamin giggle.

“Come on dad, take him,” he said.

Somehow my dad pulled his head free and twisted on his knees and threw his arms around the man, like a bear hug and drove him onto his back. Dad’s hips were between his legs, but his chest was on top of the man’s. He pulled his arms away and groped for his wrists, capturing them. Lifting up, he pressed down on his wrists, slowly forcing the man’s arms down. The man strained, his upper arms jiggling from the tension. Dad got his left arm down, but didn’t seem able to pin his right.

“Come on daddy, beat him up,” Benjamin yelled out.

I was frustrated with him and so did the same thing. “Dad, you’re stronger than he is, hold him down.”

Dad slid his knees up so that he was straddling the man’s belly. I could clearly see the man’s cock up the legs of the loose-legged bathing suit, he seemed to be growing an erection. The position gave dad a little extra leverage and he managed to put the other man’s right arm down. I was feeling so proud that my dad was dominating him after the guy was such a jerk.
Benjamin’s dad started kicking his legs and bucking with his hips while pushing up with his arms. Dad pushed his arms back down a few times, but he seemed to be hBenjaminng trouble keeping them there. In one, coordinated motion, the man twisted his hips, bucking once hard and pushed up with his right arm. Dad slipped to the side and the man carried the momentum through, rolling dad onto his back.

“Yeah!” Benjamin yelled.

“Dad, don’t let him get on top,” I called out.

Benjamin’s dad yanked his wrists free and swung his legs over dad’s tummy and sat down hard. Dad reached up to push him off, but that just made it easier for the man to fully reverse the situation. He took dad’s wrists in his hands and pushed his arms down. In comparison, he did it more easily and much quicker than my dad had done. In less than a couple of seconds he had dad’s arms pinned over his head. Dad tried doing the same thing, bucking his hip, and pushing up with his arms, but he couldn’t even lift them an inch. I had never realized how soft dad’s arms were until seeing them being held down, there was virtually no muscle definition. Something that sounded like a whimper escaped dad’s mouth as he strained.

“So it seems both you and your son are weak wimps,” the man said. “My wife could probably beat you up.”

“Dad, please…,” I pleaded.

“You’re daddy isn’t man enough sweetheart.” He spread out over dad’s body, locking his feet around dad’s ankles and pressing his chest over his face. Dad squirmed under him and the man started to dry hump him. “I think I’ve found a new girlfriend,” he said.

Dad struggled even harder, but I could tell it wasn’t going to do any good. He was clearly no match for Benjamin’s dad.

“Did you have anything else you wanted to complain about?” he asked. “Any more comments about my son being a bully?” The man lifted his chest from Dad’s face. My dad looked up at him, his face a mask of fear as he shook his head from side to side. “Are you ever going to interfere with my son again if he decides to put your son in his place?”

“No,” dad said weakly.

“What was that?”

“No,” dad said louder.

The man changed position, moving his body up and sliding his knees over dad’s arms, looking down at him over his chest and beer belly. “If I ever hear otherwise, the next time I put you in this position, you’ll be meeting my junk, do you understand?”

Dad was wide-eyed and nodded.

When the dad let him up, we both went quickly to our cabana, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that things wouldn’t end there.

I sat on a chaise, sunning and watching my brother-in-law. Frank was lying back, his hands cupped behind his head. It was hard to reconcile his soft, flabby body with the fact he had secretly propositioned my wife for an affair on the side. There was no question my wife was more adventurous than her ultra-conservative sister, but that didn’t excuse him from trying to get my wife into bed with him. My wife shared her thoughts and said the idea of him coming on to her was gross. Frank was 5’7 and about one hundred ninety pounds, had man boobs, and no muscle tone in his arms and legs. If there was any stomach muscle, his belly hid any trace of it. As an attorney, he spent most of his time, like me, behind a desk. My career as an accountant had left me soft as well, but at six foot and two hundred pounds, my wife always complimented me on looking good.
My sister-in-law, Denise, came out on the deck. “Frank, I need you to bring up a couple of bottles for the water cooler,” she said.
“They’re heavy,” my wife said. “Let Avi grab them.”
“Frank can do it. Avi isn’t any stronger.”
“I think Avi could lift more than Frank,” my wife said.
“Frank could put your husband in his place if it came to it,” Denise said.
Her comment stung. I hated the idea that my wife might even question whether I was a better man than Frank. I stood up and walked toward the garage where the five-gallon jugs were stored. As I passed his chaise, Frank reached out and grabbed my arm.
“I’ll get them,” he said. He swung his legs over the side of his lounge and stood.
“They’re like forty pounds each,” I said, looking over at my wife. She smiled, nodded and made a flexing motion with her arm.
“Sit down, Avi, or I’ll have to put you back down on your chair,” Frank said taking a step in front of me.
“I doubt you’d be able to do that,” I said, and put my hands on my hips.
Denise let out a laugh. “I think you’d be surprised,” she said.
I made a move to walk around Frank. He put his hand on my chest, and I pushed it away.
“I said, sit down,” Frank said.
I tried once more, but he grabbed my arm and started to twist. I kept my arm rigid, but he turned and bent my arm, slowly forcing it behind my back. Pushing up higher, Frank drove me onto my knees. A grunt escaped my throat and Frank let go.
“Still think I couldn’t put you down?”
Embarrassed that Denise and my wife had seen him get the better of me, I stood up and reached out for his shoulders. I drove my foot behind his legs and shoved. Frank went to the ground, and I moved down on top of him. My bare stomach and chest pressed down on his. It felt weird. I pressed up with my arms and fumbled for his wrists. His upper arms jiggled as I pushed down and he resisted, trying to keep his arms up.
“You were saying, Denise,” my wife asked her sister.
I used my knees to straddle his hips and pushed down as hard as I could. I wanted to show the girls, especially my wife, I could handle him. It would prove my wife’s point that he was too gross to consider being with.
Frank bucked and strained with his arms. He kicked his legs. It was hard staying on top. All the squirming was making it difficult to keep his wrists pinned down. He bucked again. I slipped to the side, and Frank used the break to his advantage. He pushed up with his arm, and I found myself toppling onto my side. I still had one of his wrists in my hand, but he kept his forward motion going and rolled on top of me. I felt his crotch press down on mine as he pushed his forearm against my throat. I let his arm go and pushed up on his shoulders to relieve the pressure. Frank seized both of my wrists in his hands. I raised my arms up into the air, trying to pull them free, but he leaned forward and put pressure on forcing them down.
“Come on, Avi,” my wife called out. “Fight back. You can take him.”
Denise said nothing.
Frank pinned my left wrist by the side of my head. I desperately tried to roll him back over, but he used his hips to keep me from moving. I felt the strength in my right arm growing weaker. He drove my right wrist down and had both of my arms pinned over my head. I sucked in a breath and pressed up with my arms. I barely managed an inch or two before Frank pinned me back down. I hadn’t been able to keep his arms down, but he was completely controlling me.
“Avi?” my wife called out.
“Guess my husband is more of a man than yours,” Denise said. “He’s got Avi pinned like a girl.”
I heard her and started squirming harder. Frank kept me under him, riding my hips and letting me weaken the more I struggled. After several minutes, my arms felt like Jello. He crossed my wrists and took hold of both with one hand. He flexed with his right arm. Even with that, I realized there was no muscle definition. It was humiliating.
Frank looked down into my eyes. “Do you give?”
I didn’t know what to say. To surrender would humiliate both me and my wife.
“I asked you a question. Do you give?” Frank slapped me across the face
“Yes, I give,” I said as quietly as I could.
“Louder,” he said, pressing down harder on my wrists and forcing his crotch over mine.
“I give,” I said, feeling his hard-on pressed against me. “I give.”
“Who’s stronger?”
“You are.”
“Say it.”
“You’re stronger than me,” I said, feeling the wave of humiliation course through me. “You’re too strong for me.”
“That’s right,” he said, bringing his face closed to mine and whispering. “And now your wife knows who the better man is. We’ll see if she doesn’t submit to me now.”