In Mothers Thighs

The two combatants locked up, pressing against each-other. Billy Minh couldn't see his mother's muscles through the BJJ gi the grapplers were obligated to wear, but he knew that there were plenty in there, and they were impressive. Her thighs weren't exactly built out of rock, but they were still beautiful, and while just a little bit of plushness hid them when she stood normally, he'd been helping her work out and train and he knew just how hard the muscle under there was. She felt like solid granite when he'd helped her work out and stretch, and had she been anyone other than his own mother, he probably would have wanted things to go farther than just him running his hands along her thighs while helping her get in shape. On the other hand, this was a combat sport, one which utilized all limbs to try to establish dominance, so even if some men would want to be between 48-year-old's legs for one reason, that amount of power ensured that there was plenty of reason they'd want to NOT be there as well.

He'd shown her some moves outside the dojo, too. He'd been taking BJJ classes since he was nine, and so while his mother was a good 29 years older than him, he had a good decade of experience, and knew a few tricks to show her. He took a bit of pride in watching her put those tricks into action as the man tried a hip toss, and she slightly repositioned herself, making sure she wouldn't go down on her back, and his attempt would just be an opening for the woman to get in position to take their contest to the next level.

The next level, unfortunately for her thirty-something opponent, turned out to be the mat. She grabbed her arms around his midsection, pulled him up close, then swept a leg out in front of him to trip him down on the ground. He managed to protect himself from the pain of smashing face-first into the mats, but doing so meant leaving himself open for the woman behind him to climb on top in a back mount, and snake her arms around his neck. His head was cradled against Billy's mom's chest, and her arms locking around the neck, twisting under the chin, and pulling him close... Then tightening like they were being drawn tight by springs.

She didn't leave things there, either. She twisted and rolled on her back, and then slapped her thighs around his midsection. He didn't need to see through the cotton cloth to know how powerful the older woman was, he just needed to see the look on the man's face when he felt those thighs crush tight and add a body scissors to the rear naked choke. A body scissors was supposed to just be a controlling hold, keep the opponent from escaping, but the mix of her rock-like thighs and her arms on the neck made that simple control hold into a completely dominant crush. In seconds, she had the man tapping out to avoid passing out in her arms.

"WOOO!" She cried out as she rolled him off her, and sprung up to her feet, celebrating the little victory in the sparring match. Billy, who had been a little bit annoyed to have to sit through a rookie session before the advanced training began, still felt a bit of pride in his mother's accomplishment.

"Way to go, mom! Not bad for an old lady!" He grinned, cheering her on.

"Not bad for ANY lady!" She corrected him, smiling, "And don't go around calling your mother old, or I might do the same thing to you!" She announced with a laugh.

Billy laughed as well, and waved it off, "Don't get too ahead of yourself, mom, you're still starting out, I'm a blackbelt, and unlike most martial arts that actually means something here."

"Means people can't see the tears you cry when your mom knocks you out~?" She goaded him playfully.

Billy grinned, "Means I actually know what I'm doing," he answered back, "You did great, mom, but come on, I've been doing this for ten years, and you haven't even done it for ten sessions. Maybe one day when you've trained more, if you're still in shape by then, then we can have a bit of a spar, though. It'd be fun!"

His mother always had a bit of a playful competitive drive, and he had hoped the comment would defuse the situation. Unfortunately, it just seemed to make her that much more determined to push him into getting onto the mats with her.

"IF I'm still in shape?" She asked, a slight tinge of annoyance, but mostly challenge in her voice, "Billy, you KNOW I'm still going to be in shape in ten years. Not that it'll be that important, though, I'm in the best shape of my life. Better shape than I was at your age. Better shape than you are at your age!" She added, "I don't need to wait ten years to spar, when I can whip you write now."

"Mom," Billy was getting exasperated, "Come on, I know you're excited, but I'm good at this. The coach has been telling you I'm one of his best students since before I could even SPELL Jiu-Jitsu."

"Yeah, well, maybe it's genetic. Maybe ya got the martial arts skill from your mom, ya ever think of that?"

"Ugh..." Billy sighed, "Come on, Coach, that would be ridiculous, tell her!"

Billy looked to the coach a bit desperate to avoid having to grapple with his mother. His mother did the same, somehow looking like an eager schoolgirl despite being closer to 50 than 15. The older woman's puppy-dog-eyes look won out.

"Actually," the coach said, "There's a bit of time before the advanced class starts, and I'm sure people could get more from watching the fight first-hand than just looking at the tapes we have. I think that'd be a great idea. And she's going to have to stay around either way so... Are you sure you're not tired or anything Michelle?"

"I could go all night if you wanted me to!" His mother answered. Billy blushed to see the 48-year old flirting with his coach.

"MOM! Stooop!" He objected, sounding like an embarrassed teenager (which, even though he was four weeks from his 20th birthday, he technically was.)

"Make me~" She answered, winking to him and smiling to the coach. The coach shrugged, and gestured to the mats. "The floor's yours, Billy."

Billy sighed, but it looked like he was out of options as far as getting out of this went. He stood and strode onto the mats, raising his hands, and getting ready to lock up with his mother.

"Ready, mom?" He asked, the annoyance audible in his voice.

"I was born ready~" She answered, then smiled, "Well. I mean, I'm older. YOU were born ready. And I'd know," she teased, "I was there~"

You didn't get to the level of blackbelt without getting at least a bit of sparring in, so the position was familiar, but somehow Billy still found himself a little bit uncomfortable getting into it with his mother. Maybe it was the faint idea of losing, maybe it was his annoyance with her irrepressibly positive and challenging attitude, and quite frankly maybe it was just his annoyance at being asked to roll with any rookie, much less one almost 30 years his senior. He was here for the fun and the challenge, not to knock his mom out to make her shut up with her dumbass challenges.

Then again, hey, maybe that was what she needed.

The pair circled, looking for an opening, then stepped in, getting a grip on sides and gis. The embarrassment of standing like this with his own mother was lessened by the loose-fitting gis, but as they pushed hard on each-other, he could feel her muscles bulge against his own, and damn, even he would admit his mother WAS in good shape. Not as strong as him, no, but damn strong for sure. He already knew from the past just how powerful her legs were, so it was hardly a mystery why he was failing to get her to budge with just his force. Legs tended to be stronger than arms anyway, and he wasn't going to beat her with just leg power. Then again, the whole point of BJJ was that it was a martial art based around winning WITHOUT having to just use pure force. If he couldn't overpower her, that was fine, he could still overbalance her.

He tried to move her around the mat as he pushed in, leaning slightly to one side to ensure that the real power was on one side, and she would be forced to turn. He wasn't able to beat her legs purely muscle to muscle, but he could at least get her thinking a little more about movement than she was about controlling him and the match. She was a relative amateur after all, there was only so much she would be able to do.

Once he had her focused on the movement, he saw his time to strike. He reached out, slipping his whole leg around and behind hers, then pulled it back and pushed her forward, looking to trip her onto the ground, send her sprawling out on her back, and get to work with a guillotine or perhaps a Kimura. Honestly he'd figure out what exactly later, he just needed to get this one good hard push...

He grunted in exertion as he tried to pull, the back of his thigh pressing against hers. It was like he was trying to destabilize a solid marble statue. He pulled in with his leg, felt her massive thigh up against his, and for the first time in the match, really started to realize just how powerful her thighs really were. She tensed her leg to stay standing, and he felt it bulge out against his own, pushing it backwards with the same ease she would have overpowered him when he was a child.

"Having trouble, Billy-boy?" She teased him with a nickname she hadn't used since he was twelve, "Mama's still too strong for ya, huh? It's fine, honey, don't worry. I'm here to keep ya safe. HA!" She yelled out the last word, and then tried to twist and lift him off the ground. She knew a thing or two about keeping in shape, and one of those things was to lift with the legs, not the arms, and as he had seen already, those legs were STRONG. He felt his own right leg lifted easily off the ground, and knew he was going to have to act fast to avoid being taken clean up into the air by the older woman. She twisted, and he planted his foot down and twisted his hip along with her. They were the same height, five foot seven, and that meant he was able to position himself just right to make sure he had the lower center of gravity and she was the one going down hard on her back this time.

Even as she went, though, he could see some of the argument for his skills being at least somewhat genetic, as she spread her own powerful thighs, and grabbed around the outside of his leg. It didn't make him go down beneath her, but it did what in BJJ was the next best thing, ensure that when the young man did take her down, he ended up going down with his body between her thighs, locked in the guard position. He couldn't help letting out a low grunt as they hit, and those powerful legs locked him up tight. There was nothing offensive about the use of the legs in a guard position, but it was easy to see how for a woman like his mother there could be, her thighs felt like prison bars around his hips. It was a crushing pain, but one he couldn't afford to focus on.

He reached up for her arm, trying to push it down and lock her in a Kimura. She stopped him, partly by reaching around her back and keeping her arms tight around him, pulling down so his head was pressed between her breasts the same way that her previous opponent had been, and partly by pulling the grip on her thighs even tighter. She was better than her mere few weeks of practice would have led him to believe, and despite his typical skill, he was going to have to get out of her guard in order to really lock the kimura in on his mother.

To get out of the guard, of course, he was going to need to push down on her thigh. He pressed his hand to her calf, and felt immediately the power of her tensed muscles. Their grappling clothes were designed to be loose fitting, but there wasn't much room at all for the fabric to drape around her legs. Even when exercising, she always wore long pants, so he had never really known just how large and powerful her legs were, but now he was brought face-to-face (or, rather, hand-to-leg) with her power.

He couldn't waste time thinking about it, though, he had to pass guard, and leverage in the right spot could typically take down even rock hard holds like his mother's. He pushed down, and felt her leg give way just a bit, trying to swing his hips and get out of the v of her legs. Unfortunately, just as he began to move, she brought her legs up, pressed knees to his chest, and used that to push him up. Gravity brought him back down, but now he was in her guard even tighter, with the legs wrapped around his chest instead of his hips, and an embarrassing instinct as the legs locked in again had him worrying that she might crush a bit tighter and force him to tap to a bodyscissors.

Of course, that wasn't going to happen to a BJJ blackbelt, she could hurt his midsection but not submit him with it. Unfortunately, there were far more effective things to do to someone when you had a guard as tight as this one, and whether through training in a surprisingly fast-moving rookie class or just watching some of the videos on the dojo's facebook page, his mother seemed to know them. She kicked her legs up, pulled them out from one beneath his arms, and in a snap like the slap-on bracelets that she told him about from the '90s, those thighs were squeezed around his head, and he was feeling the full force of his mother's thighs.

Despite what people might comment about the positioning, there wasn't that much erotic during BJJ matches, you tended to be too focused to be aroused, but even he couldn't deny the humiliating image of a young man with his head stuffed between his mother's thighs. Not that he had much time to think about the image, as she started to crush, and the embarrassing position swiftly became the least of his worries.

The hold crushed tighter on his head. At first, the pain started to grow like wildfire, arcing shocking bursts of agony through his head and neck, bright flashes of light timed with the agony bursting in front of his face, the only light he was getting with the rest of him buried against his mother's midsection. Then the pain began to fade away, drifting from agony into an all-too-familiar and uncomfortable suffocation. She may not have done this much before, but she had the hold cinched in tight, and he could tell his face was starting to darken as the blood got trapped on the wrong side of her legs. He was starting to suffocate, struggle to breathe, and as much as that hurt, the real problem with a blood choke was just how fast you cou-

The world was black. And then it wasn't. He felt his leg suspended in the air, and blinked, looking up. The lights of the dojo seemed a little too bright, making it hard to figure out the fine details of faces, but after a few seconds he was able to recognize his mother and the instructor standing over him, concerned looks on their faces.

"Is he going to be okay?" His mother asked. The man looked Billy in the eye, and Billy blushed, trying to keep his gaze and not look away from the shame of what had just happened.

"Yeah, Michelle, I think he's gonna be fine, but I'm gonna recommend you take the kid home and keep an eye on him just in case. You don't wanna get back on the mats too quick after going out like that, you never know what's going on in the brain. But honestly, it looks like the only thing that's hurt is his pride, so take him home, keep an eye out for anything weird, and don't let him do anything too physical until tomorrow."

"Coach!" Objected Billy in frustration, "Come on, I've had to sit here watching that whole rookie class for like an hour a-"

"And your performance there tells me you should have paid better attention," the coach cut him off, and the other students in the adult whitebelt class cheered at the comment, "You just got knocked out. You know I don't let people roll for the rest of the class after they pass out like that. You're not getting an exception just 'cause nobody's ever done that to you before."

"Nobody's ever done that to him before?" Billy's mother asked, in a tone that let the young man know that she had no intention of letting him forget it if it turned out his first KO had come from his mother."

"Nope," the coach answered, "First time. You did real good there Michelle. Never thought I'd see my best student knocked out by a rookie, but then again, looks like you were right about it running in the family. Pat yourself on the back and make sure your son's all good."

"Woo!" His mother pumped her first in the air, and dropped the young man's leg to the ground when she did. She followed it up by stepping her foot on his chest, pumping her fist in celebration some more. He blushed as his mom celebrated for the rest of the white belt class, a group comprised almost exclusively of middle-aged moms looking for something to do, thirty-somethings who for some reason thought this was a good way to get in shape, and retired 60+ people looking to check something off the bucket list while they still had time. Billy, meanwhile, was blushing as red as the belts a grade below his.

He wanted to stick around and at least watch the lesson, but his mother wouldn't have it, and ultimately, he decided it was probably best not to give her a chance to tell the other blackbelts how easily she had whipped him. They changed their clothes, and for the first time he noticed his mother had taken to wearing short-cut jean shorts, ones that would probably be called inappropriate for a woman her age, but she somehow managed to fill them out with the size of her leg muscles. To his frustration, she wouldn't even let him drive, even though he'd been driving since he was sixteen, forcing him to sit in the passenger seat like he was still a kid in order to make sure he 'Stayed safe.'

He was sure it was intentional the way he kept bringing it up, even taking detour to a KFC only to insist that her son would only be having the mashed potatoes because "He's a bit banged up today" with an excited musical tone in her voice. It wasn't a long drive home, but somehow her self-satisfied attitude made it feel like a good three or four hours, despite the light traffic meaning it couldn't have been more than twenty minutes or so, even with the detour for the fast food. She kept insisting he would need to lie down when they got there, reminding him of the importance of taking care of himself, telling him not to sneak out after they went to bed (with a teasing 'or else,') and when she ran out of other options just reminding him that he needed to practice because 'You got knocked out by your mom.'

The final straw came when she pulled into the driveway. She'd managed to avoid teasing him for the last few minutes when a call from her sister came in, and he listened sullenly as they droned on about whatever it was women of their age droned on about. His phone was with his workout bag, which was in the back, and he couldn't bring himself to ask his mom to go pull it out for him and provoke more taunting, meaning he'd had to do nothing but listen to them. Still, it was better than listening to her boast about knocking him unconscious... Well, at least until the topic got around today.

"Oh, it went great!" His mother said excitedly, "I'm loving the classes. I actually sparred with Billy today and knocked him out. It was great, his face was as purple as great-aunt Agatha's home-made jam!"

"MOM!" Billy objected, the frustration boiling over.

"Whoops, looks like he's in a bad mood, I'll call you back Jess," his mother said, and turned off the phone (after a typical couple second struggling for the hang-up button.

"Yes, Billy?" She turned to him, smiling brightly.

"Stop talking abo-"

"Oh! Your seatbelt!" His mother interrupted him, and leaned in, unbuckling his seatbelt for him, "There you go. Here, I'll help you out." She said, not giving him much of a chance to finish the thought before she slipped out of her seat, and interrupted anything he was about to say with slamming the door shut.