Wrestle Mania


Wrestle Mania 2017

I am not a wrestler. I don’t want to be a wrestler, though I do like a good roll around in the bedroom and occasionally like it a bit rough…this guy took it to the next level though and I have the marks to prove it.

It was May 5th and my degenerate friends and I bar hopped and drank from morning until night in sombreros celebrating the Mexican holiday Cinco de Mayo*. Mimosas at Jinky’s, margaritas at Cochina Condesa (and free shots from the manager whoop!), food from Mexi-Cali, I got a matching tattoo with my pal Devand, I mean we didn’t stop! Our group grew as the day went on and at its peak at El Torito we were a party of 16 slurring our words and spilling guacamole on ourselves. I had become the cruise director for the afternoon and those who could still walk and stomach a few more cocktails hopped into Ubers to rendezvous at The Oaks Tavern, my favorite dive bar in the Valley. If the attitude and judgment-free party vibe of Vegas could be condensed into one bar it would be this one. Nobody gives a shit.

Only 6 of us made it to The Oaks but it was slammed with like-minded sloppy drunks with stick-on mustaches. The bartender had made my drink, a vodka soda, before I’d even made it to the bar (I go there A LOT) and then we got to dancing and deciding what we might sing or rap for karaoke. My friend April decided that she’d had enough, “this bar is shit I’m going home.” Ok then, I wasn’t going to argue and told her I’d call her in the morning and we’d do brunch or something and I started chatting to another pal. I do a scan of the bar 5-10mins later and low and behold April is still there and is chatting-up a couple of new men. Hmmmmm, I puff up my chest and go over, make sure she’s safe and find out who these clowns are,

“Do you have a job?”
Random guy, “Yes”
“Do you have a phone?”
Random guy, “Yes”
“Do you have a car?”   
Random guy, “Yes”
Alrighty then, carry on!
Chip, her guy, talks in all caps and ends every sentence with an exclamation point and the other guy, Rob has a nice smile and the biggest hands I’ve ever seen in my life, one of his was like two of mine. Holy shit I could not get over it! So I hang out with this new crew have a chat on and act like a wingman for April and I’m so glad she stuck around after all. The bar closes around 2am so I invite two grown men I don’t know (stranger danger?) over to my place for a little after party and possible make-out session. Four of us split a bottle of cheap champagne, had a mini dance party and when it looked like April and Chip were fine and playing tonsil tennis me and Giant Hands nipped off and got more comfortable in my bedroom.

We’re all over each other, kissing, touching, clothes are coming off, we’re rolling around on the bed and I’m like, “I’m not having sex with you” – no response from him ‘cause my actions are saying something completely different and then a minute later I’m digging through every drawer in my dresser looking for a condom; there must be one around here somewhere? (It’s been a slow summer so far) Success! This man does not waste any time and before I know it I’m bent over the bed, then I’m on all fours then I’m twisting like a pretzel and then I’m getting motor-boated in the vagina with my knees around his neck. I’m having a whale of time and we’re both sweaty and making far too much noise considering there are other people in the house. We’d been teasing each other with some soft tugs of the hair and some light neck squeezes, then he gets bolder and squeezes a little tighter then I’m getting full-on strangled in a chokehold gasping for air. It’s INCREDIBLY difficult to make this look OR sound sexy. I thought I was going to pass out with the lack of oxygen I was receiving so I had to tap out, literally. To settle him down I had to, first unpin myself from this move I call the Cobra Chokehold – look that shit up it’s real, I checked with a WWE fighter, 2nd was hop on top like a cowgirl while pinning his arms by his sides before this wrestle-shag became my last.

The next morning I woke-up with a croaky voice and a bruised larynx and I was surprised to discover that Rob the Giant was a soft-spoken older man. He was really sweet and we chatted about normal stuff like work and life, he’s 40 (actually he lied about his age and he’s really 45 but that’s a tale for another time), works in production (this was lie number two but again, will fill you in another time) and we had a lovely morning bonk and lots of kisses. He didn’t bruise or hurt me again in any way this time and it was rather nice. He even apologized for coming so quickly and asked for my phone number, what a turn around from the late night shenanigans eh?

So, ladies, I suggest going home with an older man with huge hands. He may have an average size penis and be a liar but he can throw you around the bedroom and treat you like a naughty wrestling apprentice AND be a gent the next day.

* In America you get drunk all day and go to Mexican bars
but Cinco de Mayo commemorates the Mexican army’s unlikely victory over the French forces of Napoleon III on May 5, 1862, at the Battle of Puebla.


Image credit - Wikimedia


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