Paloma the Biker, as told in 1996 by Paloma Parra, Spanish bodybuilding 1997 champion, written by Alegria translated from Spanish into English by Raf. I am Paloma, 28 year-old, I live in Madrid and I am rather well known across Spain through my bodybuilding activities. I took part in several tournaments and won top prizes. Now I am also playing American football and I practise boxing and amateur wrestling. I love to win and until now, no woman has defeated me. I shall also make it clear that I am very feminine and a hundred percent woman. Another passion I have is motor-biking and I am the proud owner of an excellent machine, one SUZUKI GSXR 1100 cc. I use to attend all the bikers’ meetings in Madrid to have fun and to have a good ride. It so happens that one warm night, when I was driving at a pretty fast speed, another motorcyclist surpasses me even faster and so close that, to prevent an accident, I had to go off the road and tumble into the pavement, fortunately without being injured. When I stood up I saw the motorcyclist responsible for my accident driving away in the distance, with no further thought for what could have been a serious accident. That did anger me. After a bit of driving after it, I catch up with the bike in question as we were nearing a lonely road-side park, and I motioned for it to stop there. It was then that I discovered that the culprit was a woman about my age, a redhead with a good body. As you would expect, I rebuked her for what she had just done. Instead of excusing herself, she insulted me. I remember that we were both wearing tight, very short shorts and light shirts. I came off the biker and asked her: «Are you asking for a beating?» She also dismounted from her motorbike and pushing me back bosom to bosom, she replied: «You are the one who’ll get it.» In a second we are toe to toe slugging it out with our naked fists, in a tremendous fight of which she took the most part. Several times I made her head turn around from left to right and back under the power of my blows, until a right uppercut sent her down. She was surprised by the efficacy of my attack and looked up at me, still dazed on the pavement. I asked her to stand up and continue fighting. Then, she understood she was really taking up a beating, and to change that course of action, she attacked me in a take-down hug by my waist. We started fighting furiously on the lawn. I could not go on with in a technical boxing stance as I would have liked. She was pulling my hair, that filthy cow, and she started using dirty street-fighting tricks that made me hurt and feel disrespected. While we were rolling around, we were feverishly trying to put the adversary on her back. Our legs were interlaced and our arms were tied in a mutual power duel, muscles ripping out. Keeping on that titanic struggle, we were panting and looking into each other’s eyes really close, our bodies glued together. I must recognize that my adversary was very strong and making her submit was not being an easy task. Also, after rolling around fighting for so long, our shirts were ripped off our backs, and a few couples who had been strolling on the nearby park, had been attracted and stopped by, watching us. As usual, the women asked their companions not to interfere with the fighting. Our combat had turned into a ferocious fight for supremacy and neither would be pleased to be defeated with an audience. As you shall understand, this circumstance only made the fight more hard and vicious. At a certain point, the redhead lost her strength while I kept mine, and I was able to mount her and sit on her stomach. She buckled hard with her legs to unseat me, but it was no use. I did not give her respite, and delivered two straight punches to her jaw that left her motionless. When I stood up, I regained conscience of the state I was in; I looked as if I had been fighting with a lioness… I was scratched, my hair was dishevelled and my shirt was gone! Then I looked down at my adversary, and I felt reassured she was in a worse state. The redhead was also covered with just her shorts, and lay sprawled on her back, arms akimbo, completely knocked-out. The men present applauded me with admiration and the other women were very pleased with the show. I turned around, mounted my SUZUKI, and drove away. It had not been an easy fight, I was all sweat and my body hurt from several blows. But I felt very happy that I had won a real “woman to woman” fight, as it should be between women with red blood in their veins. Many years of gym training had given their fruit and one victory more added to others I had both in the ring, and in the street. However, I am not in favour of violent sports, I am not of an aggressive nature, I never provoke anyone, and never start a fight with anyone. I take this opportunity to present myself to you with this story of a real fight, and to send out a challenge to any woman who reads this. If you are a woman, I dare you to trade blows with me, with the gloves on, or in wrestling!... I also accept challenges to fight without rules, “woman to woman”. I love to hear the other women when they submit!… Kisses from Paloma and please contact me at Paloma Parra © Raf 1998