Hi Lover,

I'm trying to hit the highlights of my “career,” so I'll tell you about a few fights from before the wedding. The last one – Debbie A. – was the roughest.

Did I ever tell you how much I liked beer when I was a teenager? Well it's true. To illustrate: Otter, me, and his friend Dave would get a six-pack and ride around town. During the drive, Dave would open the can and take a sip, hand it to me (I'd gulp some down), I'd hand it to Otter, he'd take a sip and hand it back (I'd gulp some down), I'd give it to Dave, and Dave would throw the empty out the window. It only took them a couple of weekends to figure out they weren't getting much brew. They started buying more beer when I was along.

I'll briefly mention Barbara W. and the blonde runaway from Norfolk , VA , skipping several others completely.

Barbara W. was another one of Otter's ex-gf's – a short, equally skinny sophomore and full-blooded Cherokee Indian. My man and I were making out in the bedroom of a friend's apartment, while the owner was at work. Barbara, seeing Otter's car, decided to visit. Neither she, nor I, were happy; and we almost got into it right there. He stopped us and suggested it would be safer and more “comfortable” if we wrestled on the bed in our panties. It didn't take long for me to wear her out and decisively pin the bitch.

I never knew the runaway's name. We had spent the evening having a good time in Otter's apartment. During a break from our undercover gymnastics, – (did I mention that we'd just finished off two quarts of beer?) – he decided to visit a party in the complex. Ten minutes later, the party came to us. I was barefoot and naked underneath the white dress shirt I'd taken from his closet. Well, this girl came in with her date, grabbed Otter, and kissed him. A half-second later, I had my hand on his shoulder and punched her in the face. She dropped to the floor, Otter grabbed me, her date grabbed her, and the others were yelling for more. She apologized, Otter sent them back downstairs, and we picked up where we left off.

Now, back to Debbie.

Otter asked me to marry him shortly after my 16 th birthday. I was deliriously happy and broke the news to my parents. To this day, I believe my dad thought I was pregnant. But, that wouldn't happen for a couple of years. We set a date and turned everything over to our mothers.

Well, as men will do, he began to get “cold feet” and wonder if he'd made the right choice. In the meantime, he met and began dating Debbie A., the daughter of a reserve Navy officer. The bitch was blonde, about my size, and a year younger than me. I knew he was making love to both of us; and I didn't like it. But, I couldn't do much about it. Our parents weren't told, so the wedding planning continued around us.

When we were about four months away from the wedding day, I confronted Otter and said he needed to make a choice. I wasn't going to wind up at the altar, while he was somewhere else with Debbie. That's when he dropped the bomb. He said that he couldn't make up his mind and asked if I'd be willing to wrestle for him. If I agreed to wrestle Debbie, he would see if she would also agree. If she said yes, the loser would stay there and the winner would go with him.

I agreed immediately and hoped she wouldn't. Two days later, the match was set. It would be submissions only, unlimited falls, and five-minute rests, until one of us refused to continue. It would take place two weeks from Saturday in a large, thickly carpeted back room of an old farmhouse a few miles outside of town. Only the three of us would be there.

The next weekend, I ran into Debbie at a mall near my neighborhood. We sat down and talked. The bimbo whined about how tough her life was, gushed about how wonderful Otter was, and tried to talk me out of it. I told Debbie about my feelings for him, that I didn't care about her problems, that I would kick her ass, and that I would never let her stop MY wedding.

Two weeks later, we were both wearing tiny bikini panties in that back room. Mine were purple. The blonde wore sky blue. We were angry, eager and nervous, like tigresses in heat. Today we would “wrestle” to decide our futures. Neither of us wanted to lose the hero with the smooth moves and all those muscles (in just the right places – WINK!). We knew that one of us would be abandoned in this town, while the other would begin a new life with him. Otter was wearing cutoffs and wished us “luck” one at a time. He was glistening with sweat, had a gleam in his eyes, and a very noticeable bulge. I watched him hug and kiss Debbie, impatiently cursing, fretting and waiting for my turn. She was an inch shorter, about 15 pounds heavier, shorter shoulder-length hair, and had more “baby fat” than me.

It was time. Both of us were eager to demolish the other and get on with our lives. We jumped at each other and went down in a snarling tangle of flailing arms and legs, rolling over and over on the floor. We pulled hair, slapped, and kneed each other. When the scratching and biting started, Otter separated us. He didn't want anybody going to jail (including him, no doubt). We were instructed to wrestle only.

On our knees, our bodies merged together in a double bearhug – testing our strength, each frantically trying to get the other girl down and onto her back, and talking trash. Belly to belly and breast to breast, we struggled. Otter was circling us, comparing our bodies while we fought. I shifted to get a better grip. With a small cry of triumph, Debbie pushed me over – and fell between my killer legs! I quickly locked my ankles around her waist and squeezed as hard as I could. The girl was hurting badly, tearing up and trying not to panic. I wrapped my arms around her head and pulled it against my breasts.

She had one hand pushing against my thighs and the other pushing my head backward. I pulsed my legs, clamped down harder, and shook her body. Both hands went to my thighs, pushing and slapping at them, looking for relief and not finding any. I rolled to my side, putting the blonde on her back. Debbie's torso was bent sideways; my arms totally enveloped her head – squeezing and twisting, my breasts against her face. Otter knelt beside us and asked the man-stealing bitch if she gave up. She yelled, “NO WAY!” I growled and straightened out my body – viscously grinding, stretching and twisting. After what seemed like forever, her resistance evaporated. He asked again. Debbie sobbed loudly and screamed her submission. I gave the bitch one last tremendous squeeze with my legs, wrenched her head, and let go. In a whispering hiss, I told her: “He's mine, bitch! Go home! I'll kill you if I have to.”

I was a very happy girl – dancing around, excited and proud, with an almost overwhelming need to rape Otter. I was laughing, threatening, taunting, trash talking, and eager for the next fall. My rival lay where I left her –moaning in agony and frustration. Otter caressed me, whispering excitedly, “you're really good at this!” I melted and was dying to have him. He then knelt to comfort and encourage Debbie. The blonde said that she wanted another shot at me. Turning, so she couldn't see his face, he winked at me.

The girl was sitting up, but wasn't ready when her five minutes were up. She and Otter asked me to give her a little more time. I laughed. “You think SHE would have given ME time?” I asked. “Get away from her. Get up! Get up, Debbie! Get up, give up, or I'll come get you. Either way, you'll lose.”

Otter helped the blonde up until she stood on trembling legs. He then guided us to start with a fingerlock test of strength, then said, “Go.” I psyched her out. Growling and cursing my rival, I slowly forced our hands down and hers back. Debbie was grimacing and on tiptoes. We broke apart. As her feet hit the ground, I tackled the bitch. Debbie fell backward, her head striking the wall. The blonde grabbed her head in pain and staggered forward, Behind her, I locked in a full nelson and wrestled the moaning, protesting bitch around the room. I bent her forward – more and more – until she collapsed face down on the floor.

I still had my nelson and was riding her back. Her struggles were futile – her face pushed into the rug, her legs kicking wildly, my arms controlling hers, and my strong body holding her down. Laughing evilly, trash talking the blonde, telling her how happy Otter and I would be, and taunting her with what she would never have again. I felt it when her spirit broke. I slid off to her left side – forcing her right arm into a hammerlock, my left arm over the right side of her neck and pulling her face toward me. My legs were wrapped around her waist, my torso covering her face. I could feel her cheek under my excited nipple.

I went to work. My killer legs crushed Debbie's internal organs. I forced the hammerlock high between her shoulders. My body covered her face – limiting her breathing, feeling my breast against her, my nipples were hard from the pleasure of her pain. Her kicking legs began to swim on the carpet. Her cries and gasps were muffled. Otter sat next to us and asked Debbie if she wanted to submit. I'm sure that she did, but he couldn't hear what she said. Crush her, work the arm.

When the blonde's legs became still, I released my holds and rolled her over. Schoolgirl pin! Otter asked if she wanted to give up. Weakly, she nodded. I bounced hard on her chest. “Say you quit, Debbie! Do you want some more?! Say you quit!” Otter kissed me and told me to get off of the bitch. My fiancée comforted the blonde and asked if she wanted to go home or continue our match. Debbie focused through the pain and weakly said, “Take me home. I quit. I can't do this anymore.”

We were married in mid-June at a garden ceremony with almost 150 invited guests.

Hugs,

TOTGA