Long and strong
By Jay Croushore
kruprock@yahoo.com

 Her name was Christina Warner and she was a handful.
 She was about 5-6, 150 pounds, with big breasts, broad shoulders and
legs that could make a guy's face turn red. More on that later.
 We got to know each other our sophomore year of junior college while
working for the student newspaper. At first I didn't have much interest
in her because she always talked about having a boyfriend, who was in the
army, but I'm not sure that was true or not.
 She knew I had been on the wrestling team for two years, and she always
used to come up from behind me at the newspaper office and put me in a
light headlock. I always wondered if there was more, and as I was soon to
find out, there was.
 One day in the late spring, she was particularly flirtatous and I
invited her to walk home from school with me since my folks were out of
town and I had the house to myself.
 Upon arriving at my house was shot some baskets in the back yard and
then started playing 1-on-1. She wasn't all that good, but she sure was
competitive. At one point I called a foul and she threw the ball at me.
 I put my hands up in the air to say, all right already, and she gave me
a shove you might expect from somebody who weighed 200 pounds.
 "What's a matter, Jay? Fraid I can kick your ass?"
 I was taken back but I didn't back down.
 "Aw, come on Chris. You know I'm on the wrestling team."
 Chris placed her hands on her hips in the ultimate statement of
cockiness, shaking her waist-length brown hair.
 "I could have been on that wrestling team. I did gymnastics for 10 years
and I swim 2 miles a day. I'll kill you."
 With that, we squared off in the grassy area next to the court and she
started twirling her hair from side to side.
 We hooked up for a moment, but she quickly bent her knees and lifted me
off the ground in a show of strength that quite frankly surprised me.I
mean you could tell she was strong, but that was more than strong, this
was kind of freakish. It was not just a lift and drop to the ground but a
lift and carry around the yard and the more I tried to wiggle out, she
would grip harder.
 She finally turned me sideways, attempting to cradle me in her arms, but
she dropped me to the ground in the process.
 I tried jumping on her for a pin, which she let me do, then she took her
stout legs, with incredible flexibility, and hooked them around my neck
and pulled me straight back on my back.
 She was now sitting up with her legs around my body and her feet and
ankles pushing my face down.
 All that was left for her to do was taunt.
 "So, you still think you can take me in rassling," she said. "I've been
wrestling my two older brothers since I was 10 years old. I've got more
moves than you'll ever have.
 "Give yet?"
 I finally submitted, reluctantly, and she beamed like she had won some
kind of championship.
 We wrestled many more times that spring and summer and she beat me every
time. I'm not sure I tried my hardest because every time I would beat her
at anything she would throw a fit, but I know this: Any time she got on
top of me or got me in a scissors, I was as good as done.
 Our matches became fewer and fewer as the summer went on and then I went
away to school and we never saw each other again. I'll always remember
the strength of her legs, her absolute cockiness, and the way she could
suffocate me with her breasts, but I'll never know for sure if I could
have beaten her if I had tried or if we had wrestled with referee in the
wrestling room. In a way, I'm glad I'll never know. I'm sure was fun.
Jay Croushore