Wrasslin’

As a student, you occasionally get alerts about crimes on campus. Usually it’s a stolen wallet type of deal, but last year a man was going around campus attempting to force girls into his van. Thankfully, he didn’t get anyone, but the idea of him being on the loose made me immediately sign up for martial arts classes.

Learning to defend myself has increased my self-confidence, balance, muscle mass and made me a much more exciting lover. Everyone in class beats me good, but get me home and I’ll pin a partner down until she has no choice but to happily submit to my every desire.

The other day, I was playing video games and watching Buffy at a friend’s house (oh yeah, I’m that big of a nerd), when she asked me how my martial arts classes were going. Deciding my skills were better shown than explained, we cleared her front room out and began to wrassle.

When I first started classes, she beat me every time. But a year had passed since we last sparred and this time I was on top. Literally.

Pulling her arm and spinning my legs around, I tumbled us to the ground and in seconds was on top of her. We rolled around giving and taking equally for about 30 minutes until I decided it was no more Ms. Nice Dyke.

Rolling on top, I pinned her down and resisted for the first time when she went to sweep me off. Struggling, she smiled up at me with a look of understanding, and added more force as she pushed me up and off of her.

Immediately, I flipped her back around and was on top once again, this time with my knees pinning her arms up and my hips sitting on her pelvis. As she struggled, I rode, and soon enough I was thrusting myself down on top of her in smooth fluid motions.

Seeing her face flustered, I whispered in her ear, “breathe through it”. She closed her eyes, and attempted to squirm out from under me, but soon her hands were on my hips, thrusting me back on top of her. 

We continued to roll around, hands wondering, mouths touching, until we both were inside each other. As the victor, I got to choose who came first, and I selfishly chose myself.

An hour and multiple orgasms each later, she left me lying on the floor and returned wearing a strap-on, a tie, and a smile. I rode her until morning, practicing many of my moves from class and unfortunately breaking many objects in her home.

I left the next morning with rug burn, bruises and satisfaction covering my body.  I’m used to emotional self-defense, I’ve done that all my life, but this physical aspect is new and exhilarating.

I can’t wait to get back in the ring again. Who’s brave enough to join me?  


Blogger Bio: Queerie Bradshaw loves shoes, social justice and sex. Born a farmer’s daughter, she believes everyone deserves a good roll in the hay, and feels empowered by her feminine sexuality. She frequently travels both domestically and abroad, exploring women and wine from all regions. Now a law student who dances burlesque on the side, she fights for international rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of good porn. You can read more of her writing at murielmartin.blogspot.com, follow her on Twitter (twitter.com/QueerieBradshaw) and become a fan of hers on Facebook.

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