Chapter Five
Ah-hh, thought Amelia Stone to herself. What an experience THAT had been. And now, some twenty years later, Amelia was once again locked against the nude-muscled body of the same Al Clark, but now it was a fully grown Allan Clark with whom she wrestled and strained. She couldn't believe that Allan still did not remember her from their childhood beach-bout. But apparently too many years had passed, and both of them had certainly changed in appearance. This was especially true in Amelia's case!
Surprisingly, the two young people had never seen one another again after their erotic teenage beach wrestle. Three days after their explosive experience of mutual masterbation, Ami Swensen had accompanied her uncle to Europe for a vacation. When she returned a month later, she discovered that Al Clark's father had been transfered to the East Coast, and that the family had already moved from their rented beach house.
Years later, after her Uncle Hugh had died quite unexpectedly, Amelia inherited the Stone fortune and Stonehurst Estate. She had long ago taken the Stone name, and so there was no vestige left of young Ami Swensen . . . . except for her memories!
Amelia had never forgotten her long ago sex-wrestle in the sand with young Al Clark. And when she read an article in the newspaper, along with an accompanying photograph, that Allan Clark was now a highly successful real estate developer, she had decided to contact him.
With a delicious excitement growing within her, Miss Amelia Stone had written the mysterious note containing the challange that enticed the young entrepreneur out to Stonehurst Manor.
And now, on this stormy night twenty years later, Amelia and Allan were once again locked together in muscle-rippling erotic combat. But this time they were not rolling around on a deserted beach. The two sweat-soaked wrestlers were there in the private gymnasium at Stonehurst Manor, and had been straining together for what seemed hours, although both had long ago lost any sense of time. For them, time stood still and their world consisted of nothing more than the square mat upon which they tested one another's strength, and playued out their fantasies.
Once again they managed to break apart after a flurry of holds and counter-holds, climbing slowly to their feet. Amelia faced Allan across the mat, silently appraising him as she stood there with hands on hips, gasping for breath.
"You're better than I thought you'd be," she murmered. "I figured that I'd have you yelling 'quits' by now."
Allan could hardly believe his ears. Damm! This woman wasn't going to yield an inch, that was for sure. And he was beginning to wonder if he could really win this bizarre contest of strength. He was sure of one thing, though. This match wouldnÕt be won by a pin. It would take a full submission by one or the other to end their challange match.
Every time he looked down along the gleaming length of her sleek, incredible body he thrilled at the sight of her smooth, tightly flexed musculature. But that lithe-muscled body with its amazonish strength had also come close to crushing him into defeat several times already.
Amelia, on the other hand, had really expected to make short work of Allan. But he had amazed her with his staying power. For a supposedly unathletic businessman, he was really a VERY strong and a fairly skilled wrestler. He was not at all what she expected, when she suddenly decided after all these years to write him the note. And she was thrilled by what she was discovering . . . twenty years later!
With the smile of memory on her lush lips, Amelia stalked Allan across the wrestling mat, eager to take his lean, well-muscled body into her arms again. Her own smoothly sinewed, sweat-lathered body seemed to strum with an erotic tension, the kind of sexual tension that could only be relieved in one way! Without another word, Amelia reached out to gather Allan into her perfectly muscled arms. She gave an exultant laugh as they met and began grappling once again.
They came together with the soft thud of wet bodies, gathering each other in hard-locked grips and sinewy holds. They wrestled and rolled, lurching back and forth across the mat.
Finally, Amelia caught him in a crushing body lock, a combination of what appeared to be unbreakable holds and grips.The lusty Amazon had gathered Allan tightly against her gleaming body in a bear-hug. Her splendidly muscled arms were clasped around him from the rear. She could feel the rippling musculature of his powerful back against the softness of her naked breasts. And she had slid her legs around his waist in a reverse scissors, clamping down on her two holds with all of her considerable strength.
Allan realized that Amelia had captured him in a strong combination of holds that left him gasping for breath. As she closed her scissors even more tightly and clamped down on the bear-hug around his chest, Allan knew he was in trouble . . . again! The dual holds hurt, and he knew he couldn't last for long against them.
Allan's brain was whirling, and this time multi-colored rockets were exploding thunderously in the blackened sky of his mind. With each new explosion, the idiot symphony of pain pounded him further into oblivion. He really wanted to scream out his surrender, to cry "uncle", to give up . . . anything that would make Amelia stop crushing his ribs with her muscled arms and stop squeezing his waist with her powerful thighs. But something kept him from yielding to the lovely Amazon.
Amelia, on the other hand, began to realize that unless Allan gave in to her very soon, she would have to release her holds. She was already beginning to cramp up. She wasn't sure exactly what new holds to apply, but she simply had to rest for a moment. She released the pressure of her awesome grip around his ribs, just for an instant, and tried to bring her thighs higher up along Allan's upper torso. But in that split-second that he felt the cruel pressure ease, Allan made his move to escape from the prison of her incredible female strength.
Allan wasn't able to extricate himself totally from her scissors, but he managed to wrench himself partially free. Instead of both of Amelia's thighs around his waist, they were now grappled around one of his legs. That kept him from rolling away, but her legs couldn't do much damage either. What happened, however, was that in their attempt to gain new holds around one another, their bodies became wedged together in a tangle of inter-locked limbs. They ended up riding each other's thighs. As they continued to squirm tightly together, Allan could feel himself growing even harder, if that was possible!
Hm-mmmm, there it was again, he thought. Why did he feel that this had already happened to him, that he and Amelia had already had this same erotic wrestle . . . a long, long time ago.
"So-oooo, are you going to wrassle, or what?" whispered Amelia in a husky voice. And her words instantly evoked the memory of a time when another blonde-headed girl had challanged him with the very same words! YES! That was it . . . the elusive memory now came bubbling upward into his consciousness.
"My God . . . . Ami Swensen?" he gasped out. "It's you, isn't it?"
The beautiful woman's lush lips curved into a smile, and she gave a laugh. She released him, and crawled to her feet. He quickly followed.
"Yeah, so what took you so long, Al Grant? Was little Ami Swensen so forgettable as all that," she replied with a mock frown.
Allan looked at her, his eyes wide with astonishment. "Can it really be you, after all of these years," he murmered as if in a daze.
Even as Allan stood there in frozen astonishment, Amelia began to move toward him across the mat . . . one slow step at a time. The hot flame of sexual excitement smoldered in her eyes. Involuntarily, he began to give ground. But, suddenly, without further words, Amelia tackled him and took him back down onto the sweat-slippery mat.
Once again, the beautiful young Amazon caught him in her favorite of all holds . . . the body scissors! But this one was a different and far more erotic version.
Amelia had him imprisoned within the wrenching vise of her muscular thighs. But this time she had brought both legs around one of his, squeezing his thigh within the clasp of her gleaming legs. She crawled upward along his thigh, as if climbing a thick rope. She in ched her body into position within the V of his legs. This left them locked together, with her well-muscled thigh jammed against his crotch. Then, slowly and sensually, Amelia began to flex the muscles along her thigh, making them wriggle and writhe against the bulge of his now completely aroused cock.
She was rewarded by Allan's sharp intake of breath and muffled moan of pleasure. Faster and faster she flexed her thigh, pressing herself harder and harder against his now aching, throbbing cock.
Amelia knew that he was going to come too soon if she didn't slow things down. So she suddenly dug her heels into the mat, arched up and then twisted her body so that she had rolled Allan over onto his back beneath her. She reached down and grabbed his wrists and pinned his arms down to the mat. Her naked, sweat-slippery body slid across him, holding him do wn with her supple weight. Her solid breasts slid slowly across his slick chest until they hung just above his face.
Almost without conscious thought, Allan's tongue darted out and licked at the salty moisture that glistened on her heavy breasts. He laved her nipples, one at a time, his tongue and lips urging the pink tips to arousal. Then he wrenched his hands loose from her grip and his fingers explored the length of her gleaming naked body.
Allan found himself totally absorbed in the feel of her magnificent torso . . . the way her silken flesh felt beneath the touch of his fingers, the way her splendid muscles would flex impatiently against his palm, or the way in which the heavy solidity of her breasts fit snugly into his hands. Then his mouth found hers, and they kissed deeply.
How can words describe the rhythm to which their two bodies danced, the way their naked bodies moved; one moment heaving and squirming in wild abandon, the next in a slow straining so that the only movement was their muscles as they flexed and rippled against one another. And all the while, their two naked bodies were becoming more and more aroused. Their erotic combat simply could not last much longer now. But which of them would emerge victorious, who would win this challange match? Could Allan win his prize?
For a few more minutes the two combatants, male and female, lay locked in each other's arms and while only their tongues wrestled. Then Amelia felt Allan's hand slipping down between her thighs, his fingers exploring the wetness that announced her readiness. She gave a moan, and her own fingers reached down to grasp Allan's engorged cock. She stroked the solid length of him for a few seconds, delighting in the silken feel of his engorged rod of man-flesh. Then, shifting her lithe hips to better accomodate Allan, Amelia slowly guided him past the soft-furred entry into her warm vaginal sheath.
For a moment all movement ceased, except for a gentle rotation of their hips. The tension between their naked bodies began to build until, suddenly, their two hard-flexed bodies exploded into a contractive frenzy of movement.
Her arms wrapped around him, holding him tightly within the grasp of her feminine strength, as their naked bodies began slapping together, hips plunging like a pair of pistons.
Sweat washed their naked muscles, and made the feel of their hot bodies straining against one another even more sensual. The tempo of their movement increased, as did their muffled panting and whispered exclamations of ecastacy. As if by mutual concent, they rolled slowly across the rubbery surface of the wrestling mat, first Amelia taking the top then Allan becoming dominant. Both gave, both took.
Although neither one of them knew it at this particular frenzied moment, the erotic challange that had brought Amelia and Allan together again after all these year had beem totally forgotten. They were too caught up in their newly discovered passion for one another . . . this time an adult passion.
They had a lot of catching up to do, after twenty years. And the private gym in the old mansion, on that sweat-slippery wrestling mat, would be as good a place as any to get reacquainted.
And much later, when the two naked wrestlers were finally achieving their mutual orgasms, Amelia said in a softly murmered voice . . ."Thanks Uncle Hugh!"