11 thoughts on “Wrestlers

  1. I was looking at these pictures so hard. And then it hit me….
    I know why I like Judo. I love judo when we’ve been tussling around for some minutes, that time when you feel your own slippery underarm slide against your chest so effortlessly because you are sweating so much, and you feel that tickle where a bead of perspiration slides down the hairs that go down the center of your spine giving you the goose flesh and you shake. Pushing and pulling each other’s Gi and finally you’ve found your opponent’s weakness–misplaced balance–and you yank at his Gi so hard that his whole front comes apart and he stands there hot and bare-chested, pheromones rip away, you feel the heat rising off him and you smell his essence. It is so intoxicating. Before you know it you are flung to the mat and it’s over. One, Two, Three. But before he gets off of we looked into each other’s eyes with a knowing grin and a couple of forceful pelvic grinds as we feel each others berection, hard and stiff. Just then he collapses on me, energy spent laughing, having came himself with another pungent, intoxicating odor. We get up quickly, smile and each other and exchange phone numbers. I never do wear my cup. I guess he didn’t either. God I love Judo.

  2. Ummm, what’s up with the 4th pick? That’s not another boy he’s wrestling. Who’s the lucky bullet-head? Wrestling coach? Dad? Some pervert who walked in off the street? All I know is I wish it was me (though I’d rather have my nose buried in something a bit lower than his armpit).

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