I loved Kristie Etzold the moment she opened the door. Shorter than I expected, but with long, flowing auburn hair framing a face that couldn’t be more inviting. If she wasn’t smiling, she was always on the verge of smiling - more often than not accompanied by a laugh that burst out from some core of inner delight. Having seen the enthusiasm she brought to wrestling with Malibu, Ziggy, and Beatrice Goffin on an old tape I’d picked up from Tigra Sports, I had been quite sure she’d be a joy to wrestle. Now I was positive.
Her place was great. A large, living room with furniture replaced by a 20x20 quality mat surface. She later explained that this wing of the house wasn’t used anymore so the mats just stayed there waiting for action.
After a brief chat about directions, the drive from San Diego, my interests in the session, and preferred attire, she left to change. I’ve always left the selection of wrestling wear up to the women. Most have come back with a relatively modest two piece, as did Kristie. I was serious about wrestling hard for the full hour and had never felt choice of clothing mattered much. You can’t wrestle without getting pressed into breasts, trapped between legs, and smothered under thighs at some point. You certainly don’t want your partner to be uncomfortable in any of those positons.
Kristie acknowledged as most of the women do that wrestling for pins was a rarity. I’m starting to believe my style, ignoring the technicalities of shoulders down and a specified count so that wins come only when your opponent admits they can’t escape, is almost unique. But as long as you outlaw stalling and insist you both continually work towards the pin or the escape, I don’t think there’s another form that better allows for a great workout and a full knowledge of your opponents strength, agility, determination, endurance, and reaction to demonstrating or encountering physical superiority. From the first thirty seconds of my first mixed wrestling experience, I realized that there was no potential for sexual excitement while actually wrestling. Obviously you could slip into the sensual side anytime both were interested in doing so, but that was a line I had vowed never to cross. And which of the women would really be interested in a man old enough to have fathered them.
Kristie is basically the girl next door who knocks your socks off. Tan, well endowed, strength from tip to toe like that I expect from a farm girl, which she isn’t. She’d brought her weight down to the 150s, still giving her a few pounds on me, and every ounce looked good on her. She obviously lifts with some regularity but has none of the cut look of a body builder. As you might have guessed by now everything about her pretty much matched my tastes.
We got down on our knees and locked up. Her smile left and concentration set in. I quickly determined I had more upper body strength and also had a better idea of how to put someone on their back. I’d known from the moment she’d entered in the two piece that from the hips on down I was totally outgunned. Like the other bigger girls I’d wrestled (Joanna and Kasie) she tended to settle into a defensive position once her initial move didn’t work - hands and knees with legs spread wide and head tucked down out of reach. I knew from experience that the closer my head got to those thighs the closer I was to disaster. Scissors to submissions weren’t allowed but scissors as controlling holds were and those thighs were made to control. While her lower half wasn’t as immovable as Joanna’s and or Kasie’s, it still was much more or a danger than an opportunity.
So I stayed high trying to work her into a half nelson or pull her opposite arm through. Controlling her was a dangerous delight. The danger lashed out as one of her thick upper arms caught me in a headlock. She rose up slightly to get the strength from her legs pushing me to my left while pulling my head back to my right. The result was a half roll putting me on my back, the side of her left breast pressing into my face placing my in a most pleasant near pin. True to my vow, I struggled to escape, using my arm strength to open enough room to twist my head and shoulder to a less dangerous side position. She’d mix grunts, with laughs and power breaths as she tried to figure out what to do next. But I was able to work myself up to my elbows, pop my head free and pivot out of immediate danger. The move also took us half off the mat and since there was no longer an advantage, we broke for a drink.
The rest of time we wrestled for pins was similar. I was in control most of the time. I got her to give in to a side pin with my left arm under her neck holding her right shoulder, my weight angled from my torso off her left hip to my head above her right breast. Her struggle was fantastic. I felt her twisting, bucking, pulling , pushing as she tried to dislodge me. At times I’d shift more completely on her body scissoring her left leg. At other times I’d be stretched out almost perpendicular to her. She must have fought it for five minutes before she gave. There was no sign of frustration or disappointment.
"That was good. You really got me. Man, that’s work." Smiles and laughter as well as lots of heavy breathing and a definite need for a toweling off.
In the next set she actually could have gotten a pin if she weren’t so nice. She’d pounced on a mistake I made in losing contact with her legs while trying to pull her opposite arm under her. She started to roll as I wanted but shot her left leg under me and right leg over, immediately locking in a side scissors, putting me again on my back and pulling my head into her body. With a physique judged by Joanna and Kasie as perfect for squeezing - strong abs but no body fat to absorb the pressure and slim enough to allow maximum torque - I felt the pressure immediately and had to caution against squeezing too hard (it was against the rules). Kristie let up a bit more than she should have eventually allowing me to twist the side scissors into a front scissors. In this position, with my head now in a reverse headlock, I was able to get to my feet and push her legs over her body until she had to release the hold.
Given a second chance I wound up with a reverse pin, legs lightly scissoring her head, arms around her back, head on her left hip body weight shifting up and back depending on what moves she was making to escape. It was a glorious five or ten minute ride before I told her she’d conceded the fall. She protested that she hadn’t, but I insisted we needed a restart to give us a chance to explore how we’d do with her rules.
"Now you’re mine." Kristie threatened in a most delightful manner. Less than two mintes later I was in a sitting position, back against a well padded sofa, caught in a figure four headlock with her right thigh mashing my arm into my left ear, her right calf driving my chin into her crotch. Maybe she didn’t understand the concept of gradual pressure, maybe she was determined to make me pay for my pins, or maybe as she sort of hinted I am a major wuss when it comes to pain. At any rate I only had a few moments to enjoy the enthusiasm with which she greeted the certainty of victory – sweaty face glowing with pride. Absolutely gorgeous. Then I tapped out, cried uncle, said my "no mas".
"I am so bad at submissions."
"Not many guys hold out for long in my scissors. Thought you might because your arm was protecting your head a bit from the pressure."
If having my arm imprinted on my cheek was considered protection, I had no interest in further exploration of the figure four. To prove it was no fluke we went submission again. This time I actually controlled her for several minutes, scissoring her right leg and pulling her head tight against my body. I was hesitant to squeeze hard, but she obviously was feeling little pain.
"Hey. No fair laughing when I’ve got you in my best hold." Clearly my technique needed a great deal of work. Five to ten minutes later I submitted to something. Don’t remember the details except that I was clearly at her mercy in these contests. The trouble for me with submissions is not the losing, but the inability to struggle to work your way out. When I’m caught, it hurts, I quit, and there’s no time to enjoy the power subduing me.
To get that enjoyment I suggested putting each other in holds and seeing who could escape. I selected a reverse judo lock, positioned with my head just below her breasts, one arm locked under arm and head holding the arm above her head and the other controlling her other arm. As usual I screwed up the hold so that I was not able to keep my head tight against her body. She drove her hips and stomach up hard, brought them down just as fast while pulling her legs back and up catching me in a head scissors. Goodnight Irene. Could it have been any faster?
Kristie chose to lie on me in what I first thought was going to be a schoolboy pin. However, instead she locked her legs around my waist, leaned forward, locked her arms around my head and pulled my head into the valley between her breasts. Now this is where a guy really gets torn. He’s promised competitive wrestling. He’s vowed not to seek anything sexual. And then he gets his head placed in heaven.
The fact is, however, it is a very effective pinning hold provided the woman either has enough weight and distributes it properly with her body tight against yours and legs spread to maintain balance or pulls your head in so tight that the bone in her wrist becomes a serious pain in the neck. Because Kristie did not do the latter, I had the most enjoyable escape experience I’ve had in any match. It was probably five minutes of bucking, pushing, pulling, twisting, bridging - all the while feeling the strength of her body holding me down and listening to the panting, giggling, and laughing coming from above me - before she tired enough to allow me to pop my head free.
Later she did a full body press with arms stretched and legs holding me in a grapevine. Another wondrous experience of feeling a woman’s power as we struggled together. I was able to prevent her from forcing my legs out to the point of pain but it took full concentration to do so. Adding to the enjoyment was the chance to watch Kristie’s reactions as she reached back for more power. Again the absence of a time limit worked in my favor as eventually she either tired or had a momentary lapse of concentration and I was able to force her legs together and pull mine free.
She accepted my arm wrestling challenge saying that in dozens of matches she’d only won two. Talk about putting pressure on a guy. But I knew this was not a strength for me. We locked up and after a reasonable amount of straining, called it a draw. Switching to our left arms, we tried again. It was not easy, but I put her down. Another try with the right hands, another draw. The only disappointment was that Kristie looked down and away to maintain concentration. I prefer to lock eyes. It provides more intimacy to the victory or defeat.
Time was over but she suggested one more in which she would go for a submission, I would go for a pin. I got the jump on her and locked in a cross body pin that she couldn’t escape.
She was just as bouyant at the end as at the beginning. If she didn’t have a good time, she sure made me feel she did. Took her to a steak house for dinner. She attacked her food with the same enthusiasm she attacked me. She is definitely not a nibbler. And there isn’t going to be a lot of silence when she’s in conversational mode. The stories flowed. Never stepping across the boundaries of client privacy but giving me a better view of the session wrestling scene from a session wrestler’s perspective. She’s a professional who loves her profession and the people she ’s met. I count myself fortunate to now be one of them and have her on my short list for return visits.
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