lowblow emma
Star
- Joined
- Sep 21, 2013
- Location
- London
Samantha stared down at Todd, twisting and tearing at her programme in anger, shame and frustration. It was only a few hours ago that she had held that same programme and read his entry as one of the fighters in the main bout of the evening. She was filled with pride at how he would perform and with anticipation of what would follow, what had always followed after his fights. She didn’t expect him to win, of course not. She wasn’t that naïve, but she hadn’t expected this, not in a million years.
She and Todd had been an item for three months now, since that night when she had agreed, reluctantly, to join a friend at a wrestling match.
‘It’s silly,’ she’d protested, ‘and everyone knows it’s fixed.’
‘It’s not all fixed,’ her friend had tried to reassure her, ‘and it’s fun. You wait till you see those guys grappling in their tight shorts.’
Unable to resist her friend’s entreaties, Samantha had gone along with her and had got carried away with the atmosphere and, yes she had to admit, the grappling males in their skimpy outfits. And then, afterwards in the bar, Todd had approached her and said he’d seen her in the audience and asked her whether she had enjoyed the fight and then offered to buy her a drink. And she had said yes, she would like a drink. And then she’d said yes to everything he suggested after that.
He was one of the Wild Things tag team. He and Wayne. They didn’t fight under those names. Wayne fought as Tiger, while Todd went under the professional name of Lion. And Lion was right for him. Big and muscular, with flowing golden locks that looked like a mane.
This evening they were up against another tag team The Terrible Twins. They weren’t actually twins, not even related, but they looked so well matched that they could have been. Tall, slim, black girls with glowing shaven heads, small tits and prominent asses, they wore matching, dazzling white bikinis. Their names were Saba and Tarik, which they had printed on the waistbands, although there was a rumour that they switched names to confuse their opponents and, it was said, their lovers too.
So proud was Samantha that she had invited her mother along to watch. She had not met Wayne yet and only seen the head-and-shoulders photo that Samantha had sent her. On their way to the arena, Samantha had explained what would happen.
‘It isn’t unusual to have mixed tag wrestling, but this match - a male team pitched against a female team – is rare.’ ‘The girls don’t have a chance, do they?’ her mother had asked. ‘You might think so,’ Samantha had explained, ‘but the arrangement is that the girls will get the rough end of the fight until, with a few sly tricks, they come out on top in the end.’
If only Samantha had known what those few sly tricks would involve. If only Todd had known.
She and Todd had been an item for three months now, since that night when she had agreed, reluctantly, to join a friend at a wrestling match.
‘It’s silly,’ she’d protested, ‘and everyone knows it’s fixed.’
‘It’s not all fixed,’ her friend had tried to reassure her, ‘and it’s fun. You wait till you see those guys grappling in their tight shorts.’
Unable to resist her friend’s entreaties, Samantha had gone along with her and had got carried away with the atmosphere and, yes she had to admit, the grappling males in their skimpy outfits. And then, afterwards in the bar, Todd had approached her and said he’d seen her in the audience and asked her whether she had enjoyed the fight and then offered to buy her a drink. And she had said yes, she would like a drink. And then she’d said yes to everything he suggested after that.
He was one of the Wild Things tag team. He and Wayne. They didn’t fight under those names. Wayne fought as Tiger, while Todd went under the professional name of Lion. And Lion was right for him. Big and muscular, with flowing golden locks that looked like a mane.
This evening they were up against another tag team The Terrible Twins. They weren’t actually twins, not even related, but they looked so well matched that they could have been. Tall, slim, black girls with glowing shaven heads, small tits and prominent asses, they wore matching, dazzling white bikinis. Their names were Saba and Tarik, which they had printed on the waistbands, although there was a rumour that they switched names to confuse their opponents and, it was said, their lovers too.
So proud was Samantha that she had invited her mother along to watch. She had not met Wayne yet and only seen the head-and-shoulders photo that Samantha had sent her. On their way to the arena, Samantha had explained what would happen.
‘It isn’t unusual to have mixed tag wrestling, but this match - a male team pitched against a female team – is rare.’ ‘The girls don’t have a chance, do they?’ her mother had asked. ‘You might think so,’ Samantha had explained, ‘but the arrangement is that the girls will get the rough end of the fight until, with a few sly tricks, they come out on top in the end.’
If only Samantha had known what those few sly tricks would involve. If only Todd had known.