I've never been much of a sports fan. I don't really understand the rabid devotion to a team when there are other, more productive, ways to spend my money and my time. That doesn't mean I don't keep myself in reasonable physical shape. Exercise and a clean diet have contributed to my well-developed body, something I'm proud of and women find inviting. Over my twenty-eight years, many women have invited themselves to visit my apartment and to share my bed. Most spend the night and we part in the morning on excellent terms.
To date, while many of the women have visited me more than once, none have interested me enough for me to offer to make their visits permanent.
While I'm not married, many of my friends and acquaintances are. Most of them are men who I grew up with, went to school with or met through my employment. A half dozen are women, one of which is married but still visits me monthly in my apartment.
This story is not about her. It's about a chance meeting I had several months ago with an old college buddy in the local pub. Barry was there with his wife, Sonja. I've known Barry since high school but I hadn't seen him in about a year, during which he had met and married Sonja. Barry was a horndog and I couldn't believe he had settled down.
Sonja was an olive-skinned, five-foot, six-inch, raven-haired beauty with a great smile and a body to match. Under different circumstances, I would have invited her to my apartment for an overnight stay. I couldn't believe Barry had gotten so lucky.
Both Barry and Sonja were sports fans and had dropped into the pub to watch their alma mater play. That wasn't why I was there but I sat with them during the game since I wanted to prolong my contact with Sonja and get to know her better.
Barry was engrossed in the game and pretty much ignoring both of us. Barry was drinking three beers to my one and Sonja was occasionally sipping something green with oranges, limes, and a little paper umbrella. With every drink, Barry got louder and Sonja more talkative. By the time the game was over, Barry was unfit to drive and Sonja was exchanging phone numbers with me.
I didn't call Sonja during the next week out of respect for Barry, although I wasn't sure he deserved it. Fortuitously, I connected with Barry and Sonja in the pub a week later. They were there for the first home game of the season. The pattern from the week before pretty much repeated. Barry drank and yelled at the television while Sonja and I learned more about each other.
When the game was over, Barry began to talk with me about Sonja. He shared that Sonja was not only a sports fan, but she was also a fitness fanatic. A fact Sonja had already shared with me while showing me her well-developed arm, chest, and leg muscles. I also learned that she wasn't a big football fan. Instead, her obsession was professional wrestling.
For me, among all the sports I didn't watch, professional wrestling was on the top of the list. My belief was that it wasn't really a sport as much as an exhibition, a scripted and well-rehearsed production much like a Broadway play but with more violence.
Sonja didn't dispute my impression. Instead, she supported it explaining that she was more interested in the physiques of the performers and the fact they didn't wear uniforms to hide their many attributes.
Barry was pleased that Sonja and I were getting along so well and suggested we plan to get together instead of relying on chance encounters in the pub. Before they left, Sonja had invited me to dinner at their place the next Friday and she had given me their address. She hugged and kissed me like we were old friends as they left the pub.
Friday evening, I drove to Barry and Sonja's house. It was a semi-large home on a two-acre lot on a cul-de-sac in a well-maintained community. I parked in their driveway, picked up the bouquet of fall flowers I'd brought for Sonja and the six pack of beer for Barry and headed up the walk to the front door.
Sonja answered the door dressed in white shorts, longer than shorts most women with fewer assets than Sonja might wear. The shorts were topped by a sleeveless, long tailed, untucked white blouse that buttoned up almost to her chin. Her hair was in a high ponytail and her makeup minimal. She looked incredible but not especially erotic. I hope I successfully hid my disappointment.
She hugged and kissed me in greeting and was delighted with the bouquet of flowers. "Gregg, thanks for coming," she said.
Barry was a few steps behind her. He shook my hand and accepted the beer without comment. He was dressed much like I was, in khaki Dockers and a short-sleeved Oxford shirt.
Dinner was incredible. Sonja had prepared chicken piccata with angel hair pasta and a side of sauteed zucchini. She included an imported six-year-old Sangiovese wine. Dessert was homemade Cannoli that she filled just before serving.
We sat around the dining room table while we finished the wine and then moved to the living room with small, stemmed, crystal glasses of limoncello. Barry and Sonja sat on either end of the sofa and I settled into a comfortable side chair. We caught up with each other and exchanged stories about our pasts including how Barry and Sonja met and the problems Sonja had with her mother when she learned that Sonja was marrying "outside the faith."
After a while, Barry offered to get beer for everyone. I politely declined as did Sonja. Barry collected the empty limoncello glasses and headed for the kitchen to get his beer. Sonja took advantage of his absence to thank me for joining them explaining that they didn't often have friends over for dinner and telling me how much she enjoyed cooking for someone new.
Barry came back with his beer and sat back on the end of the sofa. Conversation moved to more recent events. Sonja confessed to being a fitness buff and shared that she worked out every morning. Barry described how he had built a home gym in the basement for her and we all went downstairs so he could show it to me.
The gym was impressive. Barry had included a treadmill, a stationary bike, an elliptical and a weightlifting machine with safety devices so that Sonja could use it without a safety monitor. There was also a large, padded, grey floor mat that dominated the room.
"Why the floor mat?" I asked.
"So Sonja can stretch and do floor exercises and give her room to wrestle," explained Barry.
"Wrestle?" I asked and looked toward Sonja.
"Yeah," she said. "I love to wrestle. It's great exercise and I always feel so good afterward. Unfortunately, I don't get many chances to wrestle."
"Interesting," I commented.
"How about you and I have a go at it?" asked Sonja.
"I don't know, I said. "Wrestling with a girl and all."
"I challenge you to wrestling match," chided Sonja.
"Don't underestimate her, Gregg," cautioned Barry. "She's a really good wrestler."
"Do I have a choice?" I asked.
"Not if you want to live with the fact that you backed down from a challenge from a mere woman," continued Sonja with a smile.
"Okay," I agreed. "What do I have to do?"
"No shoes," ordered Sonja as she kicked off her sandals. "And no socks. You need bare feet so you don't slip on the mat."
Sonja led me to the center of the mat and we shook hands. "Ready?" Barry asked and, when we both said "yes" he rang a small bell. A half second later, I was on my back with Sonja laughing on top of me.
"You weren't ready," said Sonja. "Let's try that again."
This time I was ready. I took her almost three seconds to get me on the mat again.
The third time, I left some space between us. We circled each other, crouching and alert. Once in a while, one of us swung an arm out attempting to catch a leg or arm. Sonja feinted left and I went with it. Instead, she broke to the right and grabbed my left leg. She pulled my leg up and kicked my right leg from under me. We fell on the mat with Sonja on top of me again.
"This is fun," she exclaimed.
"Maybe for you," I responded.
She stood up and offered me a hand. I ignored it and got off the mat on my own.
"Again?" Sonja asked.
"Absolutely," I said with emphasis.
This time, we crouched and Sonja moved towards me. We ended up with a hand on the back of each other's neck and our heads alongside each other. Each of us tried unsuccessfully to grab a leg. Sonja feinted left again. I didn't go with it. I blocked her attempt to grab my left leg and managed to hook her left leg. She ended up face down on the mat with me on top of her.
I've always been respectful of women, especially of inappropriate touching of their bodies. This time, respect didn't serve me well. I landed on top of Sonja with my arms underneath her and my hand firmly against her breast. When I realized it, I reflexively tried to be respectful and move my hand. Sonja took advantage of my loosening my hold, swiftly turned us over and lay on top of me, laughing.
Barry rang the bell. "End of round one," he said.
I wandered in his direction. "Round one?" I asked.
"Yep. You're not done. You're tied after one. We need a decision," Barry told me.
After a two-minute rest, Sonja and I moved back to the center of the mat. Barry rang the bell.
This time it was different. Sonja didn't come after me. We danced around each other. Sonja ducked and feinted and somehow came up behind me. She wrapped her arms around me and unsuccessfully tried to lift me off my feet. She let me go. I moved away from her and turned around. Somehow, three buttons at the top of her blouse had become undone.
She charged me. I backed up. When I stopped, she charged again, wrapping her arms around me from the front. I wrapped my arms around her, lifted her up and pushed her away from me. Her blouse was completely unbuttoned.
She moved and her blouse bloomed out around her body. She frowned, removed her blouse, and threw it aside on the mat. She stalked me, moved quickly, and ended up behind me again. She pulled my shirt from the waistband of my pants. It seemed too easy until I realized that my shirt was completely unbuttoned.
"How the hell did she do that?" I asked myself.
Like her, I removed my shirt and tossed it aside. Bare chested, I faced Sonja in her bra and shorts. She stepped towards me. I stepped towards her. We grappled with each other. Her hands were somewhere and everywhere all at once.
Suddenly she pushed me away. I stepped back, tripped, and landed on my ass. My trousers were around my knees. Sonja laughed. I looked up and watched as her shorts slid down around her ankles. She stepped out of her shorts and kicked them aside. Concerning my position and her state of undress, I pulled off my trousers and tossed them over my head.
We confronted each other again, me in my briefs and Sonja in her bra and bikini panties. The bell rang. "End of round two," said Barry.
I walked over to Barry while Sonja cleared the discarded clothing off the mat. "Are we done?" I asked.
"Not yet," Barry said.
"What's left?" I asked.
He looked at what I was wearing and pointed to Sonja. "You figure it out," he said.
