Monday, August 31, 2009

Life is hectic at the moment, but I still found time to discover this great little match. As usual, the head scissors caught me. Check it out at around 3:20.

Saturday, August 8, 2009

I'm guessing at the date of this next match, but I'm thinking it was October 1998, just a few months after my strange meeting in the choir room of a Methodist church in the South. This October match took place in the southern mountains, near where I was living at the time. On AOL, I'd come across this fellow from Texas. R and I enjoyed chatting online and emailing back and forth, and we really had a strong desire to wrestle each other. But as is often the case--almost always the case, the fact that almost half a country was between us, our getting together seemed unlikely. The match that ultimately developed from this contact was nearly as strange, in its way, as the church match.

At some point, R emailed me--or we talked on the telephone, as we used to do often--and said he was coming up near my area to see one of those big Bill Gaither singing extravaganzas. He would be close enough to come my way and get a motel room for the night where we could wrestle.

The October day finally arrived. So did he. And so did I.

We did some pretty good wrestling on the top of the king-sized bed in his room. I got to play around with my head scissors variations, and he got to do the holds he liked, which I don't remember right now. The only negative thing in the match was that he was a talker and constantly talking through the wrestling. He didn't trash-talk, for which I was glad, but he talked all the same. When he had me down in a headlock, for example, he was constantly saying stuff like, "Wanna rassle?"

Like the big guy from New Jersey that I'd wrestled in the spring and the choir director in the summer, R wanted to wrestle naked after we'd wrestled in our briefs for awhile. I'd become fairly comfortable with this (although as I write, I don't think I've wrestled naked since), so I had no problem with it.

But something different was present in this match. R had brought in a little TV with a VHS player. To my amazement, he had a video tape that was I-don't-know-how-many minutes of nothing but head scissors holds. Couple that with the heightened eroticism of wrestling naked, and I found myself in a new situation. Before when wrestling naked, I was either just trying to survive or afraid of getting caught. The nakedness never really seemed that much different in those cases from wrestling in briefs, and to my knowledge I never got a significant erection.

But again, this was different. At a crucial point, I had R in a figure-4 head scissors, and I sat there leaning back on my hands, his head caught between my thighs and calf and the TV full of head scissors right there in front of me. And suddenly--talk about your significant erections--my penis was hard between the back of R's head and my lower belly. The wrestlers wrestled on TV, head scissors after head scissors. The wrestlers wrestled on the motel bed, R shifting all around and struggling to get out of my head scissors. Too much stimulation!

For the first--and only--time, I ejaculated during a match. I couldn't stop it. And when it happened, I was stunned and embarrassed. I released the hold immediately and lay back, my face burning. R was unruffled. He came up and lay beside me and, mostly through body language, indicated that he now wanted me to jerk him off. I couldn't do it. I was finished. I apologized and got up to go clean myself off.

When I came back, I got dressed. Not wanting to run out on him, I took him out to Arby's for supper before I headed home.

It would be over a year before I could bring myself to wrestle again.