Gabby and Me - A Wrestling Addict's Recollections
It all began in my senior year in high school, this bizarre erotic predilection of mine. The funny thing is that it started so innocently... at least at first!
There was a girl in my history class that I'd had my eye on for some time, but I was just too shy to approach her for an actual date. She was tall, looked really fit and was darkly beautiful in a stern no-nonsense sort of way. So I simply admired her from a distance. Then one day I happened to be passing by the open door of the girl's gym. Inside there was a lot of girlish shouting and cheering. I couldn't resist taking a quick peek, although boys were not allowed, and so I ducked into the big room and hid behind the bleachers that ringed the cavernous room. Then I spotted Gabriela, the girl I had been silently lusting over all semester long.
Since I had never seen her out of the baggy sweatshirt, sweatpants and sneakers that were her everyday costume, my eyes almost bugged out of my head at what I saw. There was Gabby, stripped down to exercise briefs and a bikini bra, and sporting one of the most athletic female physiques that I'd ever seen. By "athletic", I mean muscular. A well-defined, sculpted kind of muscularity that you would expect to find on an Olympic-level gymnast. But Gabby and the girl facing her were not practicing gymnastic moves, they were sprawled out on a gym mat twined together in hard-locked wrestling holds.
As I watched the two girls straining together in sensuous combat, my cock began a slow uncoiling from its slumber in the pouch of my Jockey shorts. Gabriela's opponent was a big blonde German exchange student who was also the school's Track and Field star. Unlike Gabby's sharply honed muscularity, the rangy blonde had the more densely solid physique of a bodybuilder without looking 'bulky'. And both of them were using every single ounce of their formidable strength in this furiously fought struggle. The longer I watched those female muscles flex and ripple beneath their smooth satiny skin, the harder my Big Guy got. It was, for me, a totally unexpected reaction to an even more unexpected stimuli.
Believe me, my bedroom masturbation fantasies were usually directed to leggy, busty centerfold Playboy beauties rather than sleek-muscled female wrasslers. But like most post-adolescent, testosterone fueled boys, my cock seemed to have a mind of its own in these kinds of things. And so from my hidden vantage point I watched the action taking place on the large wrestling mat as my aroused Pocket Snake kept growing bigger and bigger, and harder and harder.
Gabby, her magnificently muscled body gleaming with sweat, had locked her opponent in a front bear hug. She had inserted a sinewy leg between Frieda's muscular thighs, twisted, and flipped her opponent beneath her in a smothering body press. Gabby locked herself around the blonde Valkyrie like a wet eel. Frieda began heaving and humping up and down, trying to off-balance Gabby and throw her off. But the beautiful gladiator rode her like a cowgirl atop a rodeo bucking bronco, with her long legs locked around the blonde's waist in a squeezing scissor hold. I had no idea of how long they had been at it before I had sneaked into the gym, but it was long enough for both their half-nude bodies to become slick with a glistening sheen of wetness that accentuated their overtaxed, writhing and rippling muscularity as they strained there on the mat.
Until that very moment, like most guys my age, I had never considered muscles on a woman to be anything but gross. I liked curves and soft, yielding flesh. But then as I watched the action taking place on the mat, I suddenly realized that both of these girls had plenty of curves and the kind of ripe rounded flesh that most young high school girls possess in such great abundance. But amazingly enough, I was suddenly aching to run my hands over those flexing bands of strength playing just beneath all that ripe flesh, aching to feel the sinuous movement of female musculature beneath my fingers. And, most of all, to be locked into place against all that sexy muscularity in a wrestling match of my own with the splendid young Amazon named Gabriela.
My breathing grew heavy, my eyes seemed to glaze over as they wandered across the splendid bare bodies entwined as tightly as a pair of midnight lovers in a tangled-sheeted bed. Gabby was panting and softly groaning from the exertion of maintaining her holds on Frieda, while her more heavily muscled opponent was now whimpering with frustration there beneath the strong, curvaceous body that pinned her to the mat. Their limbs were so entangled that it was difficult to see where one began and the other one ended. They were simply a single hot ball of entwined woman-flesh welded together in their ultimate test of female strength.
And then, abruptly, it was over. Caught at long last in an obviously unbreakable hold, Gabby's opponent slapped the mat in surrender, and the two nearly exhausted wrestlers unwrapped themselves from one another and got slowly to their feet surrounded by the excited spectators. As for myself, I was in no condition to do anything else other than hunch down in my hiding spot and try to clean the growing wet stain from the front of my pants with a balled-up handkerchief.
The strange thing was that without even having touched myself, I'd had an explosive ejaculation there behind the bleachers. I had never experienced a spontaneous, 'unassisted' orgasm before... other than nighttime wet dreams. This was far different and I reacted to it like the dizzying aftermath of a powerful psychedelic drug. At that moment in time, I was higher than I'd ever been... and I didn't want to come down.
Female muscles? Wrestling? Entangled, sweat-soaked female bodies? OK, not the typical menu material for my erotic fantasies. But one thing was for sure - a brand new sexual 'hot button' had been implanted into the ancient reptile brain that governed such things in we human beings. While the excited and still cheering girls gathered around Gabriela extending their congratulations, I quietly sneaked back out of the gym before anyone saw me and my... um-mm, condition.
Now I was absolutely determined to meet Gabby, but I wasn't sure how to pull it off. We simply didn't travel in the same circles. But one day at school I noticed her sitting by herself at lunch in the cafeteria and decided this was my chance. I ambled over, ask her if the seat across from her was taken, and after she raised a hand toward the seat without even looking up from her bowl of soup, I sat down. It seemed that she had then instantly disregarded my even being there. This was not starting out well.
I noticed that the book she was reading with single-minded attention was a textbook on physiology, which gave me my opening. I asked if she was going for a medical degree in college after she graduated from high school, to which she replied distractedly that she was indeed going to do pre-med at State University. Purely as a conversation ploy, I said that it was also my intention to follow a medical career, although in truth I'd never even considered such a thing until that very instant. But it was definitely the right line to use, for from that moment her conversation became spirited and her eyes sparkled with interest.
