For example, cfnm. They found a secluded area of the beach and Samara, giggling, said that there was something she found exciting which she had not yet told him about. They played the game of “Tell me”, “No, you’ll laugh”, and “No, I promise I won’t” before she took a deep breath and said it excited her if the man was naked while she was clothed. (Well, sort of clothed, in a black swimming costume cut low at the back).

So Morgan, eager to please her, took off his shorts. They lay down together on the sand and began fondling each other, Samara teasing his naked penis with her thigh. She moved on to him and kissed his chest, before progressing slowly down his front, and murmured:

“There’s something else you don’t know about me.”

“Hmmm, what?” he asked, unwilling to delay the promise he thought was in store for him.

“I WRESTLE!” Samara exclaimed, leaping off him and seizing his left arm into a lock above him.

“What the fuck?” he demanded, wincing at the pain. (Well, look at it from his point of view. He’d been anticipating all manner of pleasures, courtesy of the shapely brunette who suddenly went from gently caressing him to violently attacking him.)

She heaved on his arm probably for less than a minute, then let go, smiling at him and suggesting he stand up. Not unreasonably, he was rather put out, so she chose to explain, holding him under the chin. For his part, he decided to place his hands on her friendly, inviting body.

“As we’re being honest with each other,” she began, “I must confess I find wrestling to be a great aphrodisiac. Oh true, most of the wrestling I do is against other women; but against a man it can be really exciting.”

“Can it?” Dan asked doubtfully.

“Oh yes!” Samara assured him, making him smile despite himself.

She placed a hand on his left shoulder, making him try to guess what she would do next. Well, he was right that she would attack his arm; just wrong as to which arm it was. It was his right arm she grabbed in both hands, locking it to the side of him. Jamming her right leg behind his right leg, she tripped him over, but without letting him tumble completely onto the sand. No, she held him in an ungainly position, bent forward, with his right arm still locked, while she kept him in place with her left hand on his left shoulder.

Laughing, and a little breathless with the excitement, she eventually allowed him to fall, working him so that he landed on his back. She head locked him in her linked arms, while trapping and locking his left arm in her thighs. Since he was her boyfriend, she relaxed the head lock until it was little more than a cradle. She had made him feel what she was capable of, and that would do for the moment. Besides, she still had his arm lodged between her thighs; there was no need to choke him as well.

“Is this turning you on?” she murmured.

“I can’t say it is,” he replied through gritted teeth, thinking she would uproot his arm at any moment.

“Give it time,” she coaxed.

“That’s if you don’t kill me first,” he thought to himself. As if to increase his doubts, she tightened the head lock.

Samara jumped up, looking curiously down at him. Taking his cue, he struggled up, feeling rather sore and sorry for himself. (Well yes, you would. Barely five minutes earlier, she gave him the impression she was going to give him some paradise, the way she started to kiss down his chest. Now she was dragging him about.)

Guessing his mood, she raised her fists. “Come on, hit me!” she demanded.

“What?” he asked, startled.

“Get angry!” she insisted. “I’ve been a bitch. I know what you thought I was going to give you, it was obvious. Then instead, I humiliated you. Are you just going to let your girlfriend make you look like a wimp?”

It worked, and he punched furiously with his right – at nothing, because she curved her flexible body out of the way. As she thought he would, he overreached following through. She snatched his arm, spun round, started a little run, while raising his arm, then raised him using the momentum. Up and over her shoulder he went, in a perfectly executed judo throw, complete with a jump, to propel him to the sand.

Dan felt as if he crash landed on his front, even though it was onto soft sand. But he had no time to collect himself after the jolt, because she was over him, heaving his right arm up above him by the wrist. It seemed to be her favourite hold – not that he was impatient to experience any others.

Samara manipulated his wrist so that he felt his hand go weak. If she wasn’t holding it in place, he was sure it would have flopped down uselessly. At the other extreme, his shoulder felt as if it was being torn out of its socket, while the rest of his arm seemed to have been set ablaze. Squinting and wincing, he noticed she was smiling.

Samara knelt on her left knee over his back. She still had a hold of his arm, and she used her raised right thigh to lever it painfully underneath that sturdy limb. She gripped his chin up in her left hand, to complete the hold.

These were new pains for Dan to contend with, coupled with the by now familiar one in his arm. She was putting pressure on his neck, ribs, spine and stomach, by pulling him up by the chin, while pushing him down with the weight of her body on his back. She was anticipating a camel clutch, and the real thing was not long in coming. As she squatted over the small of his back Dan felt worse wrenches in those muscles, bones and tendons already affected. She pulled him up by the chin with a will, while pushing him down with her body weight in good the old-fashioned style.

Eventually, Samara left off and stood up daintily on tiptoe (for some reason) while Dan lay groaning in his discomfort on the sand. When he began to feel the blood flowing normally in his body again, he got up, every movement seeming to cause a pain somewhere.

There was Samara, smiling at (or more likely about) him. She was enjoying herself at his expense. It wasn’t just the physical torment that hurt; she seemed to relish the fact that she had humiliated him. His girlfriend had pulled him about, thrown him over her shoulder, and made him cry out. And now she was laughing at him.

Dan needed no encouragement to get angry this time. With a shout of “Bitch!” he threw a straight left. But she proved just as evasive – and quick – as the previous time. He caught the look on her face as he stumbled past, following through. It was one of concentration and anticipation. She sensed what he was going to do, and avoided it with ease.

It was the same when he went at her with his right, and he nearly over-balanced on his follow through. To compound his frustration, he could feel her hair against his arm as it went past her. Very well, he thought, if crosses don’t work, try a hook. It didn’t work either!

He tried a left aimed at her body, but she arched it out of danger, pushing her shapely bottom out in the process. Then he felt her grip that arm before it had completed its path. “She’s going to try and throw me again,” Dan thought.

Actually, no. She steered him by that arm, and he braced himself to resist it. Instead, she pulled him towards her, spun round and banged her elbow into his face, catching the side of his mouth. She cleverly used the leverage she had on his arm to increase the force of the elbow strike.

Keeping a hold of his arm, she continued to push her elbow forcefully into his face, including the sore corner of his mouth, to increase the pain of the strike. She pushed so hard that he had to dig his heels into the sand to avoid being overpowered, all the time worsening the pain of his face.

Then came the shoulder throw, just when he had forgotten about it. In a masterly piece of deception, she swivelled round again, heaved on that arm, and over he went. He tumbled over her back, landing in a heap on the sand, while all the time Samara had a hold of that left arm. She moved her hold to his wrist and hand, proceeding to pull and lock his fingers individually.

Dan yelped while she effortlessly manipulated his fingers and thumb. She smiled at his screams. She loved to have a man at her mercy, and every wail from Dan fed that love. When he begged her to stop, her sensation of power over a man was a greater sexual stimulation for her than any manufactured aphrodisiac.

At last, she allowed him to collapse onto his back. Pinning his right arm to the sand with both hands at his wrist, she knelt over his throat, choking him with her left leg. At the same time, she pinned his left arm with her right leg. Did Dan appreciate the delightful view she gave him while she knelt over him? His eyes could take in her tapering thighs, her flat stomach and the lovely rounds of her breasts swinging above him. But by this time, he was so riddled with pain, he may only have given it half his attention.

Holding him by both wrists, Samara straddled his head and sat on his face. Aroused by her lust for physical dominance, she decidedly crossed the boundary of mixed wrestling and sex. It was time for some self-indulgence.

When she was satisfied, she stood up and was delighted to see Dan’s defeat boner.

“See? Wrestling turns you on too!” she exclaimed, victory posing over him. Her admission of her intimate secret – a love of cfnm wrestling – had paid off.