Mixed wrestling, 200 pictures 1920x1080 (Full HD), partially CFNM, no blood.

That evening, after a drink, they had a dance. It was a medium tempo song that they both liked, and they responded naturally to the other’s movements. But the next song was a fast one, and Stacy’s energetic dancing astonished Gavin. She spun and jumped, full of excitement. What was more, when it finished, she seemed to be scarcely out of breath, whereas he found himself panting after just trying to keep up with her. He persuaded her to have another drink, because he wanted a rest.

"You like dancing, don’t you?" he laughed, sipping his drink.

"I LOVE dancing!" she replied, beaming. "I find it so liberating." She lowered her voice and became conspiratorial: "I also find it’s a strong aphrodisiac. Forgive me," she corrected herself, seeing Gavin choke on his drink, "I don’t drink much, and these two drinks have gone to my head. I wouldn’t normally say such a thing to a relative stranger."

"No, that’s all right," he answered, encouraged by her frankness. "Dancing is a great way to get to know someone."

But she wasn’t in the mood for small talk and grew thoughtful. After weighing the thought up, she pulled him towards her and whispered: "There’s something I find even more of an aphrodisiac."

"Oh, what’s that?" asked Gavin, intrigued.

"Fighting."

"What?" he asked, perplexed.

"You heard," she answered, sternly. "Fighting. Wrestling and boxing."

"But … I’m sorry, look at you! You’re very slight, you’d never hold your own against a man!"

"Oh yes I can," she stuck her chin out truculently. "You saw the way I dance. I may not be as strong as a man, but I can wear him out, darting in and out and waiting for the right time to make a move. In wrestling, I’ll surprise a man with my speed and collection of holds. In boxing, I’ll tire him out, then bop him on the nose at the right moment. So, do you want a fight?"

"What, now?"

"No, silly. Meet me on the beach in the tennis enclosure at 5 tomorrow morning, before anyone’s about. Wrestling, this time round."

"But half of this lot will still be up!" Gavin indicated the people around them in the club. "They might see us in the distance."

"Then they’ll think the stuff they’ve been taking is stronger than usual. Well, are you up for it? Wrestling tomorrow on the beach, boxing in the ring the following day?

"Yes."

*****

Stacy was waiting for him when he got there, impatient to start. Gavin was startled at the sight of her. She wore the skimpiest leotard he had ever seen. It was a feminine light pink, which went perfectly with her sleek limbs. More flesh was on view at the back than material, while at the front it was cut low over her exquisitely shaped medium breasts. He had felt under dressed in his blue speedo, but she hardly seemed to be wearing much more.

None too happy at leaving his bed at that time in the morning, Gavin hoped to get this silliness over with quickly, then go back for a nice leisurely coffee and breakfast. Just take a sudden run at her, get her in a bear hug, and it’ll all be over.

Only it wasn’t. He ran and grabbed at - nothing. Then a hostile arm wrapped itself around his neck, a hand clawed his face, and he was forced onto his hands and knees. Stacy reinforced the headlock, linking her arms, so that the side of Gavin’s face was pressed hard against her left breast. Yes, very nice – if you forgot about the vice around his neck and the restrictions to his breathing.

She settled to sitting on the sand, dragging her victim onto his side, before grappling him full circle, onto his knees again. Her left arm kept hold of his neck while her right hand locked his left arm into the sand. But this left his right arm free. Remembering her confession that she found fighting to be an aphrodisiac, he decided to test it. His hand roamed over her tight, perky buttocks, then daringly settled underneath, probing her sex.

"You’ve wasted no time, have you, you dirty bastard?" she moaned, in a tone that sounded more like encouragement than condemnation.

"Are you complaining?" he murmured.

"I’m not saying," she shivered at his touch.

She rolled towards him and they kissed. Yes, well the coffee and the breakfast could wait, Gavin thought, changing his mind. He eased himself over her, felt her right breast with his hand through her leotard, while his mouth hovered over her left breast. He shuddered in turn as she felt his cock through his speedo.

Then he yelped when she squeezed a little too hard, and responded with a none-too-friendly grab of her sex. Was this wrestling, foreplay, or both? It really is very difficult to say. The only thing for certain is that they would both have been disqualified if it had had been a formal match.

On her back, lying above and across Gavin also on his back, Stacy grabbed him by the hair with her right hand, while her left tormented his cock through his speedo. For his part, he struggled to reach her sex because his near arm was trapped under her right arm. She cupped, then squeezed his balls, making him yell. Then she swung round, putting him in a reverse face sit, so she could observe the progress of her hand. She seemed to be fascinated, obsessed, with his manhood, while the invitation was there for him to explore her intimately.

Gavin moaned softly while she pinched his balls through the speedo, and probed and prodded his cock. Then the reverse face sit became a head scissor. She had an unnerving habit of switching from sex play to wrestling. Meanwhile, she now had both hands on his cock, so in fact she was doing both at the same time.

Gavin wasn’t surprised by the strength of her thighs around his neck, having seen the way she danced. True, she had lovely, shapely legs, but the seemingly effortless way she gyrated on the dance floor required powerful legs. This was, though, small consolation for the devastating effect they were now having around his neck.

Not to mention the effect her left hand (singular again, since her right hand was holding his near arm by the wrist) was having on his cock. She crossed then re-crossed the barrier between pleasure and pain. She nodded with satisfaction, feeling it grow under her hand – she would have been angry if it didn’t. She watched, chuckling, as her fingers made it strain against the material of the speedo, her glossy nails teasing it maddeningly. Gavin gritted his teeth. If she didn’t stop that soon …

Mercifully, she did, releasing him from the scissor at the same time. Kneeling beside him, she placed both her hands on the waistband of his speedo.

"Oh yeah, babe, take it off," murmured Gavin, too far gone sexually to think about anything other than sex now. (He loved it when a woman took the initiative and pulled his shorts or trousers off.)

But he had forgotten the way she seemed to be able to switch between sex and wrestling. She had intoxicated him with her "handiwork". Now, with his speedo discarded, she cruelly wrenched his right arm and leg into a double lock, and his mind back to the combat. Standing with her right boot on his left leg, she pushed down with her foot, while hauling his locked limbs upwards, making him cry out in pain again.

"What the fuck?" Gavin remarked, astonished as she lifted him off the ground, her right hand holding him by his right ankle, her left hand under the chin. He was no lightweight, yet here was this slip of a girl lifting him up like a baby! She raised him, upside down, to her shoulders, which she used to put him in a backbreaker.

"Do you like strong women, Gavin?" Stacy asked unpleasantly, while he felt his bones, muscles and tendons creaking and straining. He wanted to answer with a resounding "NO," but decided it would be better for him not to. She was strange, this one, and there was no knowing what she would do as a result. (Mind you, if he’d said "yes", she might have replied "Okay then," and done even worse.)

Stacy frowned in concentration, bearing his weight on her shoulders. She walked them around the court, the waves of the sea sounding rather like the applause of an admiring audience. The sound mingled with the groans of pain coming from Gavin. All thoughts of sex had gone, as he wondered if the backbreaker would live up to its name.

But why carry a hulk of a man on your shoulders (apart from showing off your strength) when you can get the same effect of the backbreaker by laying him over one knee? After a suitable amount of time demonstrating to the helpless man how powerful she was, Stacy chose to do just that. Her smile replaced the frown as she inflicted just as much pain on him from an easier position for herself.

Still, she wanted to show off her skills to him, so she didn’t linger very long over this version of the backbreaker. Slamming him down on his front, Stacy squatted over him, facing away, and hooked her arms under his legs to raise him into a Boston crab. Its effect on his neck, spine, ribs and stomach was the same as the backbreaker, but it added strain to his legs. To think he could be sipping coffee and devouring bacon and eggs right now, instead of being put through the most hideous contortions by this madwoman, was to make him despair.

Gavin wailed and thumped the sand, while Stacy just looked mildly amused. His stomach muscles especially were being stretched beyond imaginable limits of endurance.

"In wrestling, I’ll surprise a man with my speed and collection of holds," she had told him. God, but how truthful she had been! So Gavin mused bitterly as she inflicted more misery on him, via very similar stresses on his spine, legs, ribs, stomach and neck, in a bow and arrow. The unfortunate man was stretched out over her lower legs. She pushed them upwards into the small of his back, while she pulled him down towards her by his crossed ankles and his neck.

From this hold, it was simple to push him into a cavernaria. Forcing him to kneel, Stacy lay on her back and dug her knees into the small of his back, pushing his midsection forwards, while dragging him back by his arms, which she gripped in her strong hands. All the time she wore her slightly amused smile, no doubt inspired by Gavin’s yells, curses and pleas.

There was a degree of showing off in her actions. She wanted to demonstrate what she was capable of. No sooner was he in a black widow, with Stacy underneath him, her arms round his neck as in a headlock, and her legs coiled over him, than she had him in a rear naked choke. Lying across him on her side, she locked his near, left arm in her thighs, while her linked arms head locked him again.

"All right, you’ve made your point," Gavin would have said if he hadn’t been in so much pain, when she whipped them both into a crucifix. With Stacy lying across him at his head, the pair of them formed a capital T as she locked both his head and his left arm in her arms, with his right arm trapped in her thighs.

But she wasn’t only making a point or showing off; she was damaging his every limb, to render him unable to resist at all. Now it was the turn of his arms and shoulders to suffer (although his poor neck got it every time). Realising she had concentrated so much on his midsection to the neglect of his arms and shoulders, she lingered over this hold for a lot longer than the others.

Stacy returned to a head scissor – or rather head scissor plus. She pushed her victim head-first onto the sand and squatted on his neck as well as his right arm, while facing in the opposite direction. She scooped his legs together in her left arm, and they whirled away uselessly and comically, while she held him steady by his left wrist.

Fortunately for Gavin, this homemade (though very effective) hold didn’t last for long and she revived the reverse head scissor or face sit. He made muffled sounds as her private parts engulfed his face once more. She pulled him up by his thighs, far enough for his cock to nestle under her neck and revive its interest in life. Then she allowed his legs to fall back onto the sand, and gazed down at his manhood while he pleasured her with his mouth.

Smiling, she lowered her body and took his cock in her right hand, delighted at Gavin’s startled jump as she did it. Once more, her skilled fingers and glossy nails set about their magical task, while his cock grew in the comfortable pillow of her small hand. Gavin moaned – well he might!

The accomplished young lady shifted to her side, kept the head scissor going but lower down in her thighs, so she could concentrate entirely on her "work". Changing hands, she massaged his cock backhanded up and down, faster and faster.

"Oh yeah, babe!" Gavin murmured, forgetting his recent torments. She chuckled in reply, an expert who loved what she did, occasionally expressing wonder at the size of it. Her fingers slipped and slid over it, lubricated by his precum. Her carefully polished nails flashed in the sunlight. She felt Gavin shaking in her thighs. He tensed. She went at it with a fury, he let out a roar, and came massively.

Stacy let each spasm subside, then straddled the spent youth and flexed in triumph.