Hand-to-hand
by Gemma of Burgos, translated by raf
a 40 y-o mom tells her torrid judo conquest of her chosen Apollo


Dear Diana,

I am Gemma. I discovered your homepage because one of my children reads 
it every week, and shows it to his older sister to see her scandalised 
look, and to tease her. They use to fight with each other in a playful 
way, tickling, and I never allowed them to go further than that. One day 
she reported it to me, and one day that he was not in, I glanced it over 
to see what was there that caught his interest so. I read your opening 
editorial, and then the letters with stories. Some of the things in your 
page made me laugh, others I had no stomach for. Above all, I was 
impressed by the violence that pervaded the whole thing. I do not mean 
physical violence, but psychic violence, the hate, the aggressiveness, 
the will to hurt another for pleasure. Is it not possible to have sex 
with someone without whipping him? My first experience was a funny 
fight, without hate or anger. 

Many years ago, I was falling for this handsome guy, Dani, but I didn't 
even dare to address him when he was close. I was the opposite of your 
typical perfect duck, with eye-glasses, muscle definition, tall, and a 
very dominating person. I fancied that I would jump on top of him, 
ripped his clothes off, and then made love to him. That fantasy put me 
in heat. Then I would reason: 'Get real, you fool! How are you going to 
rape him if you do not even dare to say good morning to him?' One day I 
decided to act, but when the moment of truth came I freeze up again. He 
was there looking at me, and I was dying of shame. "Hei, you're nervous 
about Chemistry too, right?" he said. Chemistry? What chemistry? Then I 
remembered there was going to be a test Monday. I answered: "No, it's 
going fine. The worse is having to study this week-end." He smiled, and 
it was as if I was melting under the sun. "Well, as for me, I do not 
even decent notes to study." It was at this point that I saw the sky 
opening it's doors wide for me. "Don't worry, I will lent you mine. Pass 
at my place this evening, and I'll let you have them." 

I had found an alibi to bring the fly into my cobweb. When Dani arrived, 
I went to open the door dressed in beach shorts and a tight red sweater. 
He opened his eyes wide but kept his mouth shut, and behaved very 
formal. We talked for a spell, and was fretting about seeing him about 
to go without having really caught him. It was then that he asked, "What 
is that white jacket?" "That? Oh, it's only my brother's kimono for his 
judo classes." "Bah, judo is just a game for weeny boys." "Now, listen! 
Judo is not small potatoes. My brothers were always beating me up until 
I got tired of it and learned to defend myself. I started giving them 
such blows that both enlisted at the same gym not to stay under me in 
all our scraps." "And why were you fighting with your brothers?" "I was 
older then them, but because they were boys, they wanted to order me 
around. And we always wanted to watch different TV shows, and things 
like that. I had to make those two dwarfs who was the princess!" "Bah, 
your brothers were playing with you. If someone attacks you, you'd 
better run." I grabbed his jacket's flaps and looked him eye to eye, 
with my face brushing his. "You'd make me run away, you, baby?" The 
defiance galvanised him, and he kissed me. 'At last!' I said to myself. 
I gave him a hard slap, and screamed, "Pig!" and I forced him closer, 
deep kissing him, really hard. He kissed me back. I slapped him again. 
"If you kiss me again, I'll scratch you." "But.if it was you who kissed 
me!." "Because it pleased me to do so. Here it's me who's the boss." To 
underline my authority, I kissed him again. He tried to kiss me. 

We wrestled. I passed an arm under his armpit and projected him over my 
shoulder. He fell on the floor on his back, and I jumped upon him in a 
body-press. He bear-hugged me, and we rolled around with our lips glued 
in a succession of kisses. I ripped his shirt, the buttons flied in all 
directions, and even the cloth fell in tatters. I did the same to his 
undershirt. Then the sweet and well behave boy went up in smoke and in 
his place appeared the hungry predator I was searching for. He destroyed 
my shirt, denuding my breasts. The button that closed my shorts was 
wrenched off so hard it plopped up to the ceiling. He tried to do the 
same to my panty but I squeezed his balls and sat on his chest. I 
squeezed his face against the front of my panties until I felt my juices 
flowing. A little more, and I would snuff him out! I took his trousers 
down. He managed to rip the last stitches off my body. I stripped him of 
his shorts. We were still struggling in a close tight embrace, I was 
feeling his body heat against me as his arms closed around me, lips 
searching for lips, tongues thrusting through them like swords, our 
breaths mingled together as our hands busied down our bodies exploring 
unmapped territories. "Gemma, Gemma, you're the best, you're unique, 
you're a lioness. I adore you, I need you, I want to plunge in your 
body!" I took his hard and powerful sex with both hands, massaging him 
as I rolled a condom up its length. Then I mounted him, and I sat myself 
on his virility, engulfing him until he reached my deepest recesses. I 
started moving up and down, my female muscles opening and closing around 
his captured maleness, feeling the stiff, hot spearhead pricking deeper 
and deeper, inch by inch. Dani clawed his strong fingers on my buttocks, 
and made circular movements with them as if he wanted to squeeze all 
their juices. I had an orgasm that made me melt with pleasure. Dani had 
not ejaculated yet, and profiting from my momentary weakness, he 
unhorsed me. 

We wrestled some more, and he gained the upper position. I did not want 
anything different than to be vanquished, conquered by that Apollo of my 
dreams, but it was more fun to resist him and make him sweat for what he 
wanted. I fought with all my strength and using every hold I had 
learned, both legal and dirty ones. I kissed his chest while my nails 
scratched his shoulders. I teased his testicles with my fingers while I 
bit around his ass hole. I pulled his head away by his hair while I 
suggested the most appalling debaucheries in a murmur on his ear. I took 
his penis in my mouth while I milked his scrotum. Dani attacked me, 
making me feel the full measure of his manhood. His male musculature 
doubled me onto my back, positioning himself between my spread thighs. 
Our hands clasped and our arms fought, muscle to muscle, open in a 
cross, in a test of power. His sweat poured off his hair and shoulders 
onto my face and breasts. Meanwhile, I was beating my heels on his ass, 
as my legs scissored his, to keep his sweet rigid pole deep inside me. 
The miracle happened then. It was perhaps the effort and tension to 
which every muscle of my body was being subjected in lusty combat that 
acted as a factor.but suddenly I exploded in an orgasm of cosmic 
amplitude, and it went on, and on. It was so strong a sensation that I 
felt it like a shock of million volts of pleasure, as if all my body 
changed into a gigantic clitoris. I almost fainted. 

After an evening of pleasure, I had to hide the destroyed clothes, and 
to Give something to put on before he went to his home. More difficult 
was to play hide and seek with my mother. "Gemma! Where did you put your 
red sweater? I'm doing the laundry now!" Another girl would tell her 
then, 'my lover ripped it to suck my tits, while I was fist-fucking 
him'. Can you imagine that? 

The simpleton of my son, who considers himself very smart, a big man, 
and who treats me as if I was four hundred years old, has no idea about 
what a real woman is, and he would be cross-eyed if he could figure out 
the games his strapping mother and his satyr father play when he and his 
sister go out for the week-end. On occasions, my daughter has shown 
appreciation for my physical fitness. If someone told her what his the 
exercise mat I and her father use!. In the end of the day, it's most 
irritating that everybody goes on thinking that mature couples do not 
have a sexual life. Did no one inform them that the devil knows 
everything, not because he is the devil, but because he is very old? 
Please print this letter for all those presumptuous young people to know 
that here lives a couple of forty year-olds who know how to play fight 
under the bed-sheets. Gemma of Burgos