A Muscle-matron's Challenge
by supreme
A mature lady bodybuilder retired on an exclusive beach beefs up to wrestle a male champion.

Madge

The doorbell rang.  "Oh that's got to be him!" chortled Dee.  "I'll get it!"  All the women in the living room of the luxury beachfront condo jumped up and rushed the door, wanting to be the first to greet the eagerly expected guest.  "Sit DOWN, ladies," commanded the condo's owner, "This is my job."  Reluctantly, the others, all well built(and well preserved)scantily attired women in their 50's and 60's, moved back toward their chairs and drinks.  Madge Varner opened the door.  Standing before her was Drake Sommers, the state heavyweight champion in men's bodybuilding, 27 yrs old, 5'9" tall, and 233 pounds macho-man-muscle,  handsome as a Greek god.  He was wearing chinos and an open neck sports shirt that barely covered his massive chest. He studied the big, older woman in the doorway. "You must be Madge."  She was clearly a bodybuilder, indeed she was more heavily muscled than most male bodybuilders, and almost as tall as he was.  He was immediately aware of her animal sensuality; wearing a thin short white cotton beach robe, cinched in around her waist, which could not conceal her massive flaring bronzed thighs or her imposing cleavage.  This was no ordinary woman;  she was a stunning Amazon, with a musky scent that Drake quickly found enticing.  A heavy string of pearls plunged down into her bosom from her thickly muscled neck, contrasting pleasingly with her smooth dark brown skin.  Barefoot, with silver toe rings and platinum frosted toenails bordered in black,  matching her sculpted fingernails, she was as seductively feminine as she was masively muscular.  But her most striking feature was her face and hair.  Very handsome, in a well aged, fleshy sort of way, Madge Varner had the darkly tanned, smooth, and slightly leathery skin of the older female sunworshipper, and sported thick, short, iron grey hair that was still sexy.  Still, for  Madge was 62 years old.

"Right Drake, pleased to meet you!  Welcome to East Beach! Come in and meet the gang!"  The two shook hands firmly as Drake strode in.  "Don't you have luggage?"queried Madge; the young man was carrying only a small sports bag.  "Nah; I 've got a reservation on the 7:30 flight back.  After all, this won't  take long."  Drake gave Madge a cocky, knowing smile.  Madge chuckled, "Well, we'll see."  By now all the other women were clustered around Drake, the only male present.  They whispered excitedly amongst themselves as Drake was introduced. "God, he's even more gorgeous in person than he is in IRONMAN!" admired one. Suddenly Drake realized he'd seen Madge before.  "Say, aren't you the heavyweight who everybody said got cheated out of the women's title at the State Bodybuilding Championships?"  "Right," grinned Madge, "and I'm still pissed about it!!"

Although Madge Varner seldom got pissed.  As a retired widow of a police officer, she knew she had been fortunate in many ways.  Her husband's pension was still contributing to her livelihood, but some early real estate investments she had made in the '70's had turned into lucrative cash cows, providing her with a sizable nestegg, and opulent lifestyle,  including one of the nicest condos on East Beach, perhaps the most beautiful and upscale oceanfront in the entire state.  Widowed for ten years, Madge had followed the rise of women's bodybuilding with great interest.  She had always dreamed of being a great athlete and decided, once alone, with time on her hands,  to devote herself to physical culture.

She gradually bulked up from a soft, plump 180 pounds to a hard but curvaceous 230.  Her re-modeled  physique sensuously encased a massive, bulging musculature,  which astounded her friends and shocked fellow beachgoers.  Especially shocking was how she presented herself.  For Madge, even as a mature woman in her 60's, loved to strut her stuff and "let it all hang out," wearing only the briefest of bikinis as she strode up and down the beach like some matriarchal she-hulk of fembeef.  Although she enjoyed entering bodybuilding contests, she found them too tame, and longed for a more intense type of competition.  When she heard of a couple of private wrestling and boxing clubs for wealthy older women, on the Texas coast, she knew she had to give martial arts a try.  She practically moved into one of them, on Padre Island,  for an entire summer, and learned the basics of wrestling and boxing.  Back at her home on East Beach, she began wrestling other female bodybuilders, and even the occasional male,  and found herself winning everytime: she had a natural talent for grappling, reinforced by a strong work ethic.

Madge was determined to truly test herself by wrestling a really formidable man.  And there was no more formidable male wrestler or bodybuilder in the state than Drake Sommers, who had won two consecutive college championships in both sports and had recently turned pro.  Besides, Drake was stunningly handsome, a real stud-muffin who made women hot and bothered everytime he did a posing routine, clad only in a supersmall brief that flaunted his beautiful buns, and big, manly snake, which always seemed on the verge of escape from its thin, lycra prison as he bounced and whirled on the stage.  So Madge had sent him a challenge, to a submissions only, no time limit wrestling match any place, any time.  Drake was scornful at first, ridiculing the idea. An old lady, stepping onto the mat to wrestle him?  Absurd!  He had heard rumors that a number of top female bodybuilders, like Betty Pariso and Peggy Schoolcraft, had defeated male bodybuilders in an underground wrestling league,  winning  large cash prizes, but he didn't believe them..  At any rate, Madge was considerably older, and he, of course, was far superior to any mere woman on the planet.  The arrogant male champion refused her challenge several times.  Madge didn't give up.  She finally got his attention by promising him $25,000 if he won,  to pay for his trip and meals, and to lodge him herself if he agreed to wrestle her at her beach condo.  Further, she assured him the match would be private, with only trusted friends allowed to watch.  Seeing a sure thing, Drake agreed, and the match was set for near the end of the Spring Break season.   Madge threw herself into strength training and beefing up for the match.  She had established a small weight-training area on the beach directly in front of her condo, and spent many long hours in the hot sun, slippery with tanning oil,  pumping heavy iron.  The sight of the  buxom older woman, wearing an obscenely brief white bikini, grunting and sweating, her huge muscles bulging and shining as she lifted enormous poundage, quickly drew large crowds of Spring Breakers; in fact Madge became a sort of tourist attraction as she did her sensual, physique-building workouts.  She even appeared on MTV, as part of its Spring Break programming,  posing and flexing for a couple of hundred excited collegians.  She laughed off several friendly challenges from the young males in the crowds - who were obviously intimidated by this woman, old enough to be their grandmother, who was far more muscular than they were - with, "That's OK, sonny, I wouldn't want to hurt you!"

Today was the day of match.  Madge and two-dozen of her girlfriends had gathered at her condo to wait for Drake's arrival, scheduled for 2pm.  All except Madge had treated themselves to an early margarita-party; several were now noticeably tipsy, and noticeably aroused; almost drooling with lust, they pawed and petted the muscle-stud for a few minutes.  Madge invited him for a pre-match walk on the beach.  She wants to show me off at her side Drake speculated as he agreed.  Drake went to a guest-room to change into his posing suit, which he would walk the beach and then wrestle in.  As he stepped back into the main room, the women gasped.  His purple bikini, of sensual, straining lycra, could best be described, at least its front, as a swollen pouch.  It barely contained, though it clearly outlined, his thick, restless snake, which seemed to have a life of its own, slowly probing and pushing against the thin fabric, as if seeking to break free.  "Oh, you are  yuuuuuummmmmmmmmy!!" more than one aroused matron moaned.  Drake enjoyed the attention. He was proud of his sensual, potent, and massively muscled physique.  He put on a short posing routine that had his admirers swooning.

Now Madge slipped off her short robe and it was Drake's turn to gasp.  "Wow!  You are BIG!" he exclaimed.  "You've bulked up!" Drake couldn't resist feeling her 18" biceps.  "Thanks, darlin'," Madge replied,"I've put on a few pounds, I'm about 245 now." The mature strongwoman flexed her massive biceps and quads, tensing her thick trapezoids and bulging delts.  Drake could feel his cock coming to rigid attention as he studied the lady wrestler's powerful physique, almost totally naked except for two thin white lycra triangles stretched taut over her pubic area and solid, curving buns, and a small, overmatched brassiere that revealed the top halves of her dark aureoles, her nipples poking agressively through the fabric, and even more of her well shaped, sizable breasts, bouncing ever so lightly.  Encircling one huge upper-arm curled a tattoo of a boa-constrictor.  "C'mon stud, let's go strut our stuff!!"

The two bodybuilder/wrestlers set off down the beach and soon created a sensation.  First pausing to pump up their muscles at Madge's "beachpit" weight area, they then oiled each other up, quickly attracting a small crowd.  Heads turned up and down the beach as they strolled in the hot sunshine, their wide bronzed shoulders occasionally brushing, as Madge pointed out the sights to her companion.  They were truly a majestic pair, their big bodies naked save for their scandalously tiny bikinis - sheathed with mountainous gleaming muscles which rippled sensuously as the walked.  Soon people were pointing and gossiping excitedly as the heavyweight lady wrestler and the man she would soon challenge on the mat strode by.  The young muscle-stud found himself powerfully turned-on by the older woman's scent and powerful, muscled proximity.  His enormous erection, straining and bouncing against his bikini pouch, earned the ogling stares of horny coeds, while his companion, over twice his age,  awed both men and women.  Madge, showing off before the young crowd,  insisted they give each other another oil rub-down.  Their sexy bodies touched, brushed and rubbed,  as they applied the warm Hawaiian Tropic oil to each other's muscles.  Madge mused about the onlookers, "I wonder what they would say if they knew we were going to wrestle each other in a few minutes?"  Drake didn't reply.  He was lost in a reverie:   Can't believe I'm walkin' down a beach, almost naked, with a crazy old lady who is as naked and muscular as I am.  Too bad I'm gonna beat her up.  She's one sexy broad, old or not,  but nuts to think she can wrestle a man. Oh well, easy money!

But as the two fantastically muscled heavyweights strode regally down the beach, the young male champ was vaguely aware that his older female challenger was perhaps even more physically imposing than he was. Her softball sized delts, big slanted traps, mountainous biceps, and thick forearms, as well as her tree-trunk quads and diamond shaped calves easily rivaled, and, in truth,  slightly exceeded, his own impressive musculature. The musclewoman's flaring back was like two thick steel plates, hinged together at her spine.  Madge's curving, muscled hips, glutes and jutting bosom - which threatened to burst out of her skimpy brassiere - seemed to exude sensuality and primal power.  He was in awe of the raw animal strength and sexuality of the mature musclewoman as she flirtatiously made sure they walked hand in hand, occasionally giving his big butt a playful squeeze while the young Spring Breakers gaped.

After an hour on the beach, the two behemoths returned to the condo, drank some water, and began limbering up for the match.  Madge's friends had moved  to the condo complex's fitness center, where a large wrestling mat had been set up in the aerobics area.  About 20 women, and two or three men, comprised the audience.  Most of the women were now drinking jello tequila shots, and were down to their skimpiest biknis, hoping to impress Drake.  The two rivals walked into the room to cheers and encouragement.  "Go gorgeous; prove you're a superstud!"  "OK, girlfriend, teach the hunk some manners on the mat!" The two gladiators posed side by side, smiling and hitting various poses as several of Madge's friends took pictures of the beefy pair.  Finally it was matchtime.

The two gladiators stood toe to toe, on the mat, the fronts of their sexy suits almost touching. Madge decided to fight topless.  She removed her straining brassiere to fully reveal a pair of well-shaped, nut-brown breasts which looked a little too good to belong to a 62 year old, no matter how physically fit and pretty.  After receiving the ref's instructions(submissions only, no time limit)the two wrestlers amiably shook hands.  "Don't worry grandmother; I'll go easy on you," Drake smiled.  "Please don't," retorted Madge, "I can take your best; let's see if you can wrestle me!

The fighters circled each other for a short time, looking for an opening.  Then Drake exploded off the canvas, kicking high and stunning Madge with a flying dropkick right below her formidable bosom.  The Amazon fell to the mat, gasping for breath.  Drake followed up with a bodyslam, flipped the dazed strongwoman onto her stomach, grabbed her lower legs and bent back into an excruciating Boston Crab.  The crowd murmured in sympathy; Madge was groaning in pain and clearly in trouble.  It looked like she was in way over her head.  The cocky muscleman was enjoying his advantage as he leaned back and squatted down, every muscle straining with effort.  "OK Madge; game's over; submit and you won't get hurt!"  "No way!!"the big lady wrestler replied.  For ten minutes the male champion applied his punishing hold, but Madge refused every demand to submit. Damn, she must have an incredible pain threshold, he marvelled.

Drake began to tire,  his legs ached with strain; he was losing his grip.  Releasing his hold, he grabbed a fistful of the musclelady's thick grey hair, pulling her onto her feet into a powerful bearhug.  At first Madge could not resist, but gradually worked her big arms around the male's waist and counter-squeezed with vice-like force.  Both wrestlers were covered with sweat and oil, grunting with exertion, every muscle rippling and bulging, and both were aware of the intense pressure of their opposing bodies,  from their cheeks to their toes, so tight, so close in their erotic embrace.  "Mmmmmm, that's quite a snake you've got there..." Madge lusted as she squeezed her young opponent even harder.

Drake could feel the air being forced from his lungs; Madge was winning the squeeze-off!  Quickly breaking his hold, he elbow smashed her face twice, forcing her to also let go.  The wrestlers backed off  from each other, trying to catch their breath.  "You're pretty strong for an old lady," Drake admitted, as they began circling again. "I bet I'm stronger than you are, sweetie," smiled Madge.  She put her arms up, challenging the male champ to a test of brute strength.  Drake realized he was on the spot; he had to accept to show he was superior.  The two beefy bodybuilders seized each others upper arms and stood toe to toe, their flaring oiled thighs just touching,  exerting incredible force!  Drake's big snake strained the thin purple lycra of his swollen pouch, thrusting aggressively, gently brushing the front of the tiny white triangle covering Madge's pubic area.  They stared each other down, every muscle gleaming and swollen,  grunting with maximum effort in a supreme showdown of male vs. female musclepower.  By this point the small audience was aroused to a  frenzy of lust and sexual anticipation, watching in silence this battle of the titans. They swayed back and forth, muscles trembling, struggling for six, seven, eight minutes.  The match was even.

Then, something unbelievable began to happen.  The massive musclewoman began to take control, forcing the cocky male's arms down, below shoulder level as she poured on the power.  Drake's expression changed, from confidence, to determination, to surprise, to pain, and finally, to fear.  He was in trouble!  "What's the matter dear," Madge purred, "is this old lady too strong for you?"  Drake could not reply.  His arms were in agony, and going numb.  This is impossible!, he thought.  The audience came alive, cheering on the grey-haired strongwoman.

In a display of pure musclepower, Madge slowly lifted her frightened opponent up, off the mat, forced his arms around his body, and turned him upside down, squeezing him brutally against her magnificent chest in a savage bull-dog hold.  Drake was panicking now. He shook his head back and forth, screaming, "NO!!  NO!!"  He couldn't understand what was happening to him, disoriented and caught in the Amazon's crushing grip. He was used to parading himself onstage, the ultimate macho male, wearing only a skimpy posing suit, pumping and flexing his oiled muscles for hundreds of panting women. Now he was being held upside down, helplessly suspended in the air, in the overpowering pythons of this monster old musclelady who was displaying him to her female friends!  Holding him tightly as he wriggled in her huge arms, Madge walked around the edge of the mat, showing off her "prize" to the amused spectators, occasionally shaking him like a cat shakes a mouse.  "OK, big boy, I'm not done with you yet," she announced.  She dropped him on the mat and he curled, moaning,  into a fetal position at her feet while she hit an eye-popping biceps shot.  Now it was her turn to seize him viciously by the hair, pulling him off the floor and putting him through a series of her best holds: the airplane spins, suplexes, and piledrivers that she had learned at the Padre Island Muscle Club, in Texas. At one point the she-hulk left her opponent sitting in a daze on the mat while she refreshed herself with some Evian water.  Returning to Drake as he desperately tried to recover his strength, she slipped into a sitting position behind him, slid her smooth, oiled, pumped-up boa-constrictor legs around his naked waist and sweetly murmured, "I can't let you go without showing you my best feature."  "No, NO! PLEASE DON'T!!"  the frightened man, jolted out of his semi-conscious state cried out.  The musclelady ignored his plea,  "I broke the ribs of the last man I wrestled; I'll try not to crush yours," she laughed.  Soon she had the stud stretched out to the limit between her bronzed rock-crusher thighs, glistening with sensual power, his head almost swallowed by her bulging forearms in a deadly sleeper.  Drake struggled, wriggling like rabbit caught in the coils of an anaconda, but when his eyes started rolling up into his head, and his resistance weakened, Madge decided she was not quite ready to finish him off.  "This is too easy," she complained, releasing her vice grip and sleeper.    "You're not nearly as good a wrestler as I hoped," Madge taunted.

But Drake was too close to unconciousness from the beating Madge had given him to understand. Nothing like this had ever happened to him before;  this wasn't an old lady wrestling him; it was a she-beast!  Madge let the battered male champ try to catch his breath and get to his hands and knees before almost gently pulling him to his feet and announcing her finishing hold, "I'm going to put him away with an abdominal stretch. I just learned it and want to see how good I am with it!"  "Go girl!," responded the eager audience. Completely spent, Drake could not resist. He stared at the agressive musclewoman with vacant eyes,  his mouth sagging open,  his big arms hanging uselessly as Madge held him up by his hair.  Slowly she stretched his body across her thick thigh, trapping one leg with hers and hooking her rock hard shoulder under his.  She applied increasing force, pulling and stretching and bending his body in opposite directions.  Gradually the tremendous pressure forced the hapless male to scream, "Oh god, NO, PLEASE, somebody stop her!  She's killing me!"  The abdominal stretch was a difficult hold to apply, requiring enormous strength and skill, but the bosomy lady wrestler cinched it in perfectly, becoming a human torture rack. Drake's body twitched helplessly as he weakly pawed and pulled at Madge's bulging, crushing, vice-grip thighs with his one free hand. He was sobbing now, his head spinning and his ears roaring, but he could clearly hear the spectators chanting, "Submit! Submit! I'ts time to quit!"  He knew he was beaten.  "Submit, now, or I'll break your back!" Madge threatened.  Drake was out of his mind with pain and terror. He screamed, "OK! OK! I SUBMIT!! PLEASE!! STOP!! YOU WIN!! YOU'RE CHAMP!! I SUBMIT!!"

As the audience cheered, Madge let Drake slip down her bulging, sweatslick body to sprawl pathetically on the mat at her feet. As he looked up he could see her mahogany brown, tree-trunk legs and thighs, curving up into her impossibly small bikini triangle.  "Please...please...don't hurt me anymore," he moaned.  The ref raised her hand and announced, "The winner of the match, in 31 minutes, by submission, and the new heavyweight wrestling champion of East Beach, Madge Varner!"   After victoriously posing for pictures which showed her straddling her utterly beaten and exhausted opponent, Madge reached down and slowly lifted him to his feet, and practically carried him back to her condo bar, where she placed him in one of the high seats. She drank water and gave some to Drake, who had revived enough to nod his thanks.  A post match party quickly got under way, with more tequila shots, and happy older women noisily celebrating Madge's triumph. Madge toweled herself off, then Drake, and began gently massaging him.  She was deeply(and wetly)aroused by the young stud she had just outwrestled.  Soon she was nuzzling his neck with her tongue and lightly stroking his big cock, still hard and pushing outward in his tiny suit. Drake was afraid, but also aroused by his buxom female conqueror. Madge could tell he wanted her as much as she wanted him.  After a while she helped him out of the chair and took him to her bedroom, returning an hour later to the party, naked and flushed under her short robe.  To everyone's question she answered, "Drake's...resting in my bed. I'm afraid I wore him out, little darlin'. But  he still has a lot of...maintenance to perform.  He doesn't know it yet, but I called the airport and cancelled his flight.  He won't be going anywhere for a couple of days!!"  Her girlfriends laughed as she joined them for another round of drinks.

the end