I guess my life is normal-normal-normal-normal-weird-normal normal. What I mean is that I do normal stuff day by day and night by night, and then there's the wrestling. Take today for example. I spent most of it on a work-related project. When that was finished, I went to the office and emailed what I was working on. That was a little before 4:00.
By 5:00 I was in this man's room at the Comfort Inn—no, he wasn't wearing the mask, just his speedos. The room wasn't large, but the bed was and so we wrestled on it. Seeing as how we didn't have a lot of time, I stripped down and put on my trunks, and we got down to wrestling fairly quickly. It was a pleasant give-and-take light submission style, with basic pro holds—head scissors, headlock, bear hug, body scissors. I didn't keep track of how many submissions each of us squeezed out of the other, and I don't know if he did. After a long stretch of playful but intense falls in which submissions didn't necessarily guarantee release, so we had a nice continuity until we had a good sweat worked up. Then we stretched out on the bed together and talked—always one of my favorite things to do with my "opponents." When we had about 15 minutes before I had to leave, we wrestled that out. During the second series of falls, he got a little playful with me, getting me in holds like a head scissors (my favorite) and working me up toward and erection. I might have let him work it all the way to ejaculation—I had that kind of experience with boyhood friends—but I stopped him. Gently, of course.
By 6: 45 I was eating supper with my son and by 7:10 I dropped him off at a birthday party. Then I went to the grocery store and bought a pint of Ben & Jerry's "Chubby Hubby." (Already eaten.) And now I'm sitting and watching some TV and writing my blog.
I have that pleasant soreness that comes after some fun wrestling. My neck's a little sore after being cranked by a good head scissors and a good full nelson. And my left arm is sore—my friend was fond of, and good at, the chicken-wing hammerlock. He worked it on me almost every time he got me in a head scissors.
So, now another wrestling match is over, and I'm happy and comfortable.
By 5:00 I was in this man's room at the Comfort Inn—no, he wasn't wearing the mask, just his speedos. The room wasn't large, but the bed was and so we wrestled on it. Seeing as how we didn't have a lot of time, I stripped down and put on my trunks, and we got down to wrestling fairly quickly. It was a pleasant give-and-take light submission style, with basic pro holds—head scissors, headlock, bear hug, body scissors. I didn't keep track of how many submissions each of us squeezed out of the other, and I don't know if he did. After a long stretch of playful but intense falls in which submissions didn't necessarily guarantee release, so we had a nice continuity until we had a good sweat worked up. Then we stretched out on the bed together and talked—always one of my favorite things to do with my "opponents." When we had about 15 minutes before I had to leave, we wrestled that out. During the second series of falls, he got a little playful with me, getting me in holds like a head scissors (my favorite) and working me up toward and erection. I might have let him work it all the way to ejaculation—I had that kind of experience with boyhood friends—but I stopped him. Gently, of course.By 6: 45 I was eating supper with my son and by 7:10 I dropped him off at a birthday party. Then I went to the grocery store and bought a pint of Ben & Jerry's "Chubby Hubby." (Already eaten.) And now I'm sitting and watching some TV and writing my blog.
I have that pleasant soreness that comes after some fun wrestling. My neck's a little sore after being cranked by a good head scissors and a good full nelson. And my left arm is sore—my friend was fond of, and good at, the chicken-wing hammerlock. He worked it on me almost every time he got me in a head scissors.
So, now another wrestling match is over, and I'm happy and comfortable.
6 comments:
Congratulations on another enjoyable match! Yes, I know that the wrestling part is not usual for the rest of the world, but how is it any different, really, from meeting a guy at the racquet club or on the golf course? Certainly those places are more acceptable for recreational sport in society's eyes than a hotel room, but neither has society provided mat rooms in its many gyms and fitness centers (get a clue, world!), ostensibly because not enough guys would be interested. (Not enough guys were interested in fitness centers until they started popping up all over the country a couple decades ago: If you build it, they will come...?) How was your workout significantly different from a one-on-one game of basketball in the driveway?
All of these questions until you got to the erotic ending of your match... there, I have to agree with the divergence from "normalcy." Still, I am glad you had a good time, and I trust your opponent did as well.
I dig what you've got to say here about wrestling's relationship to other activities. It shouldn't be different, but factor after factor have brought it to be perceived so.
Thanks for reading.
Just happened on this. Man, does this describe my life. Thanks.
Thanks for reading, NW Bulldog. I'm always comforted in knowing that I'm not the only one out here who goes through these interesting times and strange struggles in the middle of what is usually a rather calm and comfortably predictable life.
abnormal, abnormal, abnormal, huh? abnormal, abnormal...is more like mine...I 'book' a match a week [sometimes more] in advance...think about it non-stop for days...anticipating the opponent [especially if a new guy] and planning out my moves, counters, finishers, intensity...etc...only to have the match cancelled...or moved out - and spins me into a depression.
When i do get to wrestle...I'm great, when I'm not, it's all I've come to think about...I am grateful for when I get the chance, and for those that sacrifice for me to have a 'match,' but I'm trying to not let it devour my regular life, work activities and personal relationships....
Yet I have longed for these encounters all my teenage/adult life...so much so, that fantasizing about wrestling was obsessive in itself. When I actually get to do it...I almost feel 'normal' and more 'abnormal' when I'm just thinnking about it.
Ringer: you're as normal as the 'other' guy who obsesses over the stock-market, their sports team, vices, relationships, education, etc...you have found a release...and so have I -
i read your article and loave it so much
Post a Comment