She moved like a jungle cat. I hammered away at the body bag and tracked her through the sweat dripping in my eyes. At 5' 9" she wasn't the tallest woman on the planet, but statuesque just the same. Her curves were pleasing but not over-stated. No, the only thing that made her stand out was the way she crossed a room.

She took her turn at the stair master and pumped it steady for longer than I could work the bag. She was still going through my rest and only stepped down half way through my inclined sit-ups. I saw her standing over me upside down.

"You look like you wont be much longer." she said smiling down at me. She was right. I was spent. I slid off, wiped the bench and offered it to her. She mounted on my side, walking close to me. The smell of her sweat mixed with something else.

She talked as she curled up and down, over and over. "I see you here a lot." she said. "Do you live nearby?"

"I own the rooftop unit." I said proudly. So nice of her to let me hint that I am stinking rich so early in the conversation.

"Wow." She puffed, continuing her sit-ups. "I can't afford to live in this building. I was lucky to get into the health club! I have an apartment a few blocks farther from the lake."

I was standing right next to her. I noticed that her eyes focused on my gym shorts on the down side of her sit-ups. I became conscious of the bulge growing there and covered it with my towel. I thought I saw a twinkle in her eye. This gave me courage.

"Since you live so close... I mean after a workout sometime..." I paused. She just kept on sitting up and laying down, watching me struggle with what we both knew was coming. "Would you be interested in dinner sometime?" I finally blurted out.

She stopped and spun upright. She grabbed my towel and dabbed at her sweating cleavage. "I would like that." She said gently. "This Friday night will be fine. I'll see you here at eight." She stood, handed back my towel, and strolled to the showers. Just like a cat.

That Friday night dinner went well, and the evening ended at her apartment door with a warm kiss that made my knees weak. She seemed a bit breathless herself as she wiped her lips and thanked me for the evening.

"May I see you again?" I asked.

"I'm glad you asked." she replied. "Tomorrow night is my treat. I'll pick you up." And she slipped away.

She took me to dinner and dancing, then to a nice bar for jazz until the sun came up. She drove me back to my place and we necked in her car for an hour before she said I had to go. Would she come up? Not yet. Her eyes twinkled in the dark.

A few more dates passed. I learned a bit about her. Her brothers were all-state wrestlers. She was a gymnast as a young girl then switched to track, distance running. I told her I wrestled some in high-school but never got anywhere.

"That's okay." she said. "Just to do it is the thing. I admire wrestling. It's such an erotic sport."

The way she said that created wood in my pants! I had five inches and almost 50 pounds on her. But she was in great shape, and agile. Could she beat me in a fight? And if she could, what would she think of me? "I... I haven't wrestled in years." I ventured.

"I never have." She replied. "But I've been to hundreds of matches. I could probably name two dozen moves, even today." She shook her head and laughed. "It's been a decade since high-school." she admitted.

"Still very young." I whispered. "And in great shape."

She looked me over. I could tell that her port wine was getting to her. "Let's go to your place tonight." she said. And so we did.

I poured more wine, but we never touched it. We pawed and rolled over each other like kids! At 40 I hadn't felt that kind of passion in years. She bit and scratched when things got real heavy. I growled and pressed into her. At one point I held her pinned under me and pressed my full weight down. She groaned and giggled, then clutched me in her legs. She squeezed, first gently then harder and harder. I groaned and she giggled again, then let up.

We tore off most of each other's clothes and went at it in front of the fireplace, inching our way around the room as I hammered into her. Afterwards I slipped down to her lap and showed my gratitude. She moaned, screamed, and beat the floor with her fists.

We saw a lot of each other after that. We even made it to the bed by the third time we made love! It was then that I asked. I stroked her toned arm as she sipped her wine. "Have you ever wanted to wrestle a man?"

That twinkle danced in her eyes again. "Ohhh, yes." she giggled. "I couldn't help but masturbate every time I came home from a match as a young girl. But men are so big and strong. Plus some of them can be such jerks if they get the upper hand."

I grunted an agreement and stroked her moderately rippled belly. "You don't think I would be like that, do you?"

She was silent for a while, looking at me. "You want to wrestle me, don't you." She whispered.

"I would love to, actually." I admitted. I may have blushed. She rubbed my face tenderly. I saw her nipples grow hard again.

"I like the idea." She admitted. "Promise not to get too rough?"

I agreed. we kissed, and suddenly she was on me! I flipped her over and tried to gain control over her arms, but she was too quick. I kept her pinned below me but had to shift all the time to keep her there.

Suddenly she used one of those moves she had learned by watching. It was so fast I'm not even sure how it worked. I just know that suddenly I was face down with her foot on my head and my arm chicken winged back on the verge of breaking.

I howled with pain! She let up a bit. "Sorry!" she said "I got excited! Can you get out?"

I struggled for a while to no avail. "Wow!" She giggled. "This is cool! Try this one!" She slid over my body and slapped me into a scissors hold pinning one arm below me and pulling the other back. I was arched painfully over her bottom leg.

"You're killing me!" I howled! "Please let up!"

"And I'm not even applying pressure yet!" She growled. "This is so cool! I'm kicking your ass!" She held me like that for a few minutes just to prove I was stuck, then she let me up.

I rolled over to my stomach. My sides and arms ached. But she was just getting started. Giggling like a schoolgirl with a new doll, she plopped down on my back and pulled back on my head. It was torture, but it was what I had fantasized about for years! This agile and shapely young woman controlled and overpowered me at will, only to let me up and do it again.

She enjoyed watching me strugle to crawl out of harms way. But no sooner was I on my knees but she was on my head with another scissors. She plowed my head into the floor and held my body upright crushing my head with both her weight and mine!! GOD did it hurt!

"I give up!" I shouted from under her firm ass. "Please! I beg you! Stop!" But she didn't! She just laughed! and soon I was out cold...

The cobwebs cleared. I was kneeling before her as she sat in my overstuffed leather chair - no panties. I had a rampaging headache. She sat relaxed, drinking wine and smiling down at me. "Eat me." she whispered, slightly drunk. How long had I been out?

I wondered if I could beat her now that she was drunk. But I felt the pain all over my body and decided to chicken out. I licked her to several climaxes as she dripped onto my rolled leather upholstery. By dawn she was satisfied and let me carry her to bed.

The next night she was ready to wrestle again but I was hobbled from the beating I took. As she started to twist my arm and drop me to my knees I begged her to let me rest one night. To my delight her attitude changed drastically!

"You poor baby! Why didn't you say something? I didn't know I had hurt you so bad." Then she sidled up sweetly and whispered. "Let momma kiss it where it hurts and make it all better."

And that strong and agile cat-woman slipped to her knees before me and blew my mind.

Over the next few months she taught me a few wrestling moves to help me stand a chance, but she just kept pulling new moves out of the bag and, as she put it, kicking my ass. She always ended the session clutching my head between her powerful legs and riding my face to climax, sometimes making me black-out, sometimes not, depending on how good a time she was having.

One evening we were coming home late from the jazz club when she got pulled from my arm and into a dark alley! A drooling bastard with a switchblade held her close and scratched her tender neck with the knife as I approached. I held my ground.

"Drop your wallet and watch pretty boy or your girl dies." He snarled. In the dark I saw my girl's eyes twinkle. Oh no, I thought, she would try something! She could get killed. "Honey..." I started to warn her, but it was too late.

It was too late, but not for her. She grabbed the man's knife hand and snapped it into an impossible angle that drove his face into a brick wall. As he fell to his knees she took the knife, slowly closed it, and tossed it down the alley. Then she set into taking that poor man apart. She climbed his back and rode his face into the alley. Then she knelt on his shoulder blades and twisted both of his arms from their sockets. As he rolled in agony, flopping his useless arms about, she repeatedly dropped a knee or foot into his ribs, groin, and face. She stomped his jaw into dust under her thick heel. A few minutes after he stopped moving, she stopped beating him.

She was panting hard. "I hate to admit it." she snarled. "But I loved that! I want to do it again!" I reached out for her. She snatched my arm and dropped me to my knees. I yelped as tendons stretched. "We better take a night off." She whispered in my ear. "Or I will kill you."

I looked down at the man in the alley - still breathing. "Whatever you say." I replied, trying to remain calm. I got her home and gave her a warm bath, rubbing her shoulders. I put her to bed, but was too worked up to join her. I watched the late news. The cops were looking for who beat the hell out of a man who was being hunted by police for robbery and murder. The victim was in a coma. No leads. Good.

On our next date I noticed she wore a huge diamond broach dangling from her coat, which she only draped over her shoulders. And I noticed she walked as close as possible to alley and doorway openings. She was just dying to get mugged! Nothing happened except when we got home she had a very tough time letting up when I asked her to.

"I enjoy hearing you beg." She pouted.

So we invented a "safe word." for me it was "blue." I could beg forever and she would keep going, but if I said "blue," she had to stop.