The Story Of Amelia

Chapter Two

"Looks like we'd better get started," Amelia chuckled wickedly, her eyes fastened on his bulging crotch, "while I can still get close to you."

Then, without another word, she came toward him across the rubbery surface of the mat - slowly, cautiously. She moved toward him like a big, tawny lioness stalking her prey; circling him ever so slowly, fearless in the certain knowledge of her own magnificent strength.

Her finely knit body moved with a fluid grace - long thighs that were as powerfully muscled as those of a track and field runner, solid calves that swelled and clenched and bunched with each step. Her strongly biceped arms were outstretched, fingers beckoning him to join with her in a preliminary hold. Allan was back peddling, circling warily away from her. Suddenly, she danced forward, grabbing him within the curve of her arms. They clamped their bodies together with a meaty THUNK. And then they wrestled!

Amelia's smoothly rounded arms quickly snaked up and around Allan's neck, clasping him into a side headlock. She swiveled until her hip was set against his, then slipped a leg in between his until it was locked securely behind one knee, and then wrenched him off-balance. Their two bodies crashed down to the mat with her on top. He hit hard, the wind knocked out of him. Amelia was wrapped around him as tighly as a rubber band.

Amelia was kneeling astride him, the lithe-muscled vise of her legs keeping him from rolling away. Allan arched up, twisting and turning, digging his heels into the yielding mat as he tried frantically to topple her off of him. He suddenly remembered a move that he'd once used in his college wrestling days, and sent his body surging upward in a bridge. That proved to be a BIG mistake. Amelia's long legs instinctively sought the opening between his body and the mat and snaked around his waist like a coiled python. Her gleaming thighs were scissored around him, slim ankles criss-crossed, rounded calves clasped across the double domes of his buttocks. She pointed her toes, clenched with her well-developed quadreceps, and squeezed Allan within the prison of her scissoring thighs.

She lay on her back, facing him, holding him prisoner within the steely grasp of her locked arms and scissored thighs. Their heads were cheek- to-cheek, his breath panting into her ear. He heard her groan with effort as she tried to bull-dog his neck even more tightly within her grasp. Allan countered by lifting himself to his knees, leaning forward and trying to pin her shoulders to the mat with his over-reaching weight. He broke her head lock and grabbed both her wrists, pulling her arms outward into a spread-eagled position. Her wide, sinewy shoulders were now pinned flat against the wrestling mat.

Hey! He had her. She was properly pinned. But somehow he knew that this wouldn't do it. Her smooth shoulders might be held to the mat, but this splendidly muscled Amazon had not yielded yet. She had to say the words, had to admit that he had out-wrestled her.

Her answer was quick in coming. She gave a quick laugh, and her sleekly sinewed legs clamped tighter around his waist in their scissors. And then Amelia arched her hips upward and began to buck. It was like trying to stay atop a wild mare, Allan quickly discovered. But actually it was Amelia who gripped Allan with her legs, not the other way around. Just who was riding who?

After a few more powerful thrusts of her hips, Allan lost his balance atop her and toppled to one side, still holding her wrists with both hands. They lay there, grunting with effort as each tried to overpower the other in their first test of arm-strength.

Allan was gripping both of her wrists, which he pulled back behind her neck. Then he wrenched Amelia's arms upward until her elbows were raised parallel to her broad shoulders. The way she was being held it almost appeared as if Amelia was hitting a front bicep pose. And indeed, both of her upraised arms suddenly evidenced the sliding of muscle against muscle, the ripple and play of taut sinew separating from the female roundness of her upper arms to become solid mounds of sculptured strength. Allan's eyes had been instantly attracted to the ripple and play of those flexing sinews from the first moment they had begun their silent test of arm-strength.

Even as he strained with Amelia, his eyes slid down and across her upper body, watching the way her magnificent female muscles isolated themselves until she looked like an anatomy chart. There the swelling of a pectoral, then the spreading of the latisimi dorsai, and the way her deeply ridged abdomen sucked inward as her ribcage expanded. The sheen of oily sweat that glistened along her sunbronzed body seem to accentuate the way in which her muscles would slide and lock and flex and then unlock and sink back down into repose. Then, as she resisted Allan, the muscles would leap back into quivering sight again.

Distracted by the sleek beauty of the body he held locked to his, Allan had almost forgotten that he himself wasn't in too good a position. Amelia still maintained her crushing scissors around Allan's waist, and her powerful thighs were rippling and crawling with amazonian strength as she continued to put on the pressure. She slid both legs higher, moving upward to clamp him more around his ribs than his waist. She straightened her long legs and pointed her toes, letting her rock-solid thighs tighten across his ribcage and her muscled calves lock across his lower back. Then Amelia squeezed!

She squeezed harder . . . and harder, until he felt as if she would strangle him in-two. She continued to SQUEEZE, SQUEE-EEEZE! SQUEE-EEEEEEEEEEEEZE. Her long thighs bulged with aroused muscularity as she continued putting on the pressure. Allan was completely immobilized by her strength, and frantically let go of her wrists so that his hands could try to pry loose those scissoring thighs from around his waist. But it was like attempting to unloosen a steel spring.

Amelia managed to roll their bodies over until she was on top. Her knees were pressed against his ribcage, maintaining her balance, with her legs still snaked under and around him in their crushing python vise. Her hands grabbed his wrists and spread his arms wide apart, pinning them to the mat as he had done to her. She bent forward, bringing her jutting naked breasts down across his face, smothering him within the deep valley between the two rounded globes of sweat-glistening woman flesh.

"Mm-mmmm, muff-fffff" came his voice from beneath the melon-solid breasts. His flaired nostrils sought a breath of air, but all he got was the aroma of perfume mingled with the scent of pungent sweat. The silken feel of her breasts as they slid back and forth across Allan's face was incredibly sensual, although he wasn't able to enjoy the sensation as much as he'd like to, considering the situation he was in at the moment! And it also had an erotic effect on Amelia, too. Very quickly her nipples began to harden until they were as stiff and erect as rubber pencil erasures. Amelia raised up a little, so that Allan could breathe. She wanted her pure female strength to win this match, not use a sneaky smothering technique to make Allan yield.

Both of the wrestlers were getting turned-on by the slow-motion straining of their grappling bodies, but it was not yet time to indulge in acknowledging their sexual arousal . . . not until one or the other had won! And it looked as if that time would be quickly at hand.

Her breath gusting harshly into his ear, Amelia asked the same question that Allan has asked of her a few moments before.

"OK, Mr. Businessman, how about it . . . do you give up to me?" Amelia laughed down at Allan. "Better yield, I've got your cute little butt pinned."

But Allan gave a tremendous grunt of exertion, arched up, twisted and sent the two of them rolling across the mat. Back and forth they rolled, with first one on top and then the other. Amelia never lost her scissors hold, but Allan was able to break free of her wrist holds. Finally, after several more minutes of intense wrestling, Allan managed to clamp Amelia into place beneath him.

Actually, Allan had no plan other than to try and sap some of Amelia's ferocious lioness strength with the only edge he seemed to have, that of his superior weight advantage. But his 165 compared to her 140 just did not seem to make all THAT much difference. She had proven to be almost as strong as any man her size, plus she seemed to know every wrestling trick in the book. Damm! . . . he just couldn't believe that her muscles could be so beautiful and so cruel at the same time.

Simply lying there on top of her, particularly while she still had him imprisoned in that crushing scissors, was not going to get him anywhere except more turned-on. But squirming and straining atop that splendidly muscled female body was not a bad way to spend time, he chuckled to himself. Then, suddenly, he had an idea.

Allan stretched out Amelia's arms above her head. Then he moved both of his knees forward along her ribs, set his feet into position against the mat, and stood up. Amelia hung down, shoulders pressed to the rubbery mat. As long as she maintained her scissors, she would be in danger of pinning herself!

With a grunt of frustration, Amelia suddenly released her powerful legs from around Allan's waist. She quickly brought both feet up into place against the man's stomach, tensed the long sinews of both thighs, and like an uncoiling spring she shoved him backward and away. Allan sailed across the wrestling mat, and landed hard! A split-second later, Amelia was rolling back up to her feet with the limberness of a gymnast. Then she stalked across the mat toward Allan with a gleam in her eyes.

Allan scampered away from her on all fours, moving across the mat and away from the young Amazon. Amelia stood there watching him with a curious expression, her big half-naked body glistening with perspiration that seemed to accent every cleft and crevase of her magnificent muscularity. Her jutting breasts were heaving up and down as she drew in deep breaths of air, the nipples stiff and hard. She practically strummed with erotic excitement as her eyes wandered over Allan's sweat-soaked male physique.