Mixed wrestling, 250 pictures 1920x1080 (FullHD), no nudity, no blood.

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Lee was on a singles’ holiday. He had chosen the hotel with care, and this one was by the sea, even with a private beach available for hire. There was also a fully-equipped gym and a disco every night. "You can keep the disco," he thought, but he was very pleased with the gym. Having unpacked, it was the first place he visited. He was a club wrestler, and though he had gone on this holiday principally with the idea of meeting women, he still wanted to keep fit. Indeed, he hoped to be able to meet them while he was training. It might impress them, he hoped.

All the equipment was there for his usual routine, and he contentedly went through it. He was the only person there – when it’s a fine day, and a resort has beaches, and bars serving drinks outside, the gym isn’t going to be the most sought after place – so he was able to choose whichever equipment to use. Presently, while he was on the exercise bike, a very striking woman entered. She was a redhead, with her hair tied in a ponytail, and she wore a red leotard, daringly divided at the front, between the most beautiful breasts that Lee had ever seen. For an added tease, it was cut high up on the hips, revealing glorious firm, strong buttocks.

She waved pleasantly to Lee and called out "Hi," before settling down to her routine. To his disappointment she seemed completely uninterested in him. He, though, was fascinated by her. As well as an obvious sexuality, there was a subtle strength about her, which gave her an air of self-assurance.

Lee had always been troubled by the concept of a strong woman. As a boy he had been appalled by the idea; now, while he still found it disconcerting, it was nevertheless addictive at the same time. He slyly watched her workout, while pretending to concentrate on his. She was graceful, flexible and skilled, with great stamina. He gulped when she went over to the weights. He was a reasonable club wrestler, and no weakling; but she equalled his ability to lift with, it seemed to him, less exertion. Moreover she seemed to enjoy it, whereas he found it quite gruelling. She smiled as she raised and lowered the dumb-bells, her breasts swinging provocatively to the same rhythm.

Eventually she finished, and appeared surprised to see Lee still working out.

"Wow, you’re good!" she praised him, as she approached. "I’m no slouch, but you were here before me, and you haven’t finished yet!"

"Just finishing now," Lee replied a little hoarsely, not knowing whether it was the exercise or the memory of seeing her with the weights that made him sound like that. Then, remembering his manners, he held out his hand and said "I’m Lee."

"I’m Julia. I haven’t seen you here before, is this your first day?"

"Yes."

"You’ll love it here! This is my fourth day, and I’ve been swimming every morning, in here every afternoon, swimming again in the evening, and dancing every night. Well, time for a shower. Bye for now."

Lee watched her leave, with respect approaching awe. Then he went over to the weights. "Bloody hell!" he thought, lifting the same dumb-bells she had, and struggling with them the way he always did. Deciding he needed a drink, he showered, then headed for the bar.

"Do I want to see her again, or don’t I?" he meditated over his drink. He felt threatened by her, but at the same time she seemed to hypnotise him. 

No. There were plenty more women here, he eventually decided, and what did he want to do with one who spent her time hauling bloody weights about? Some nice girl who liked flower arranging was more his style, hey? Or a beautician (not that Julia was without make-up, he reluctantly concluded, before angrily telling himself to stop thinking about sodding Julia).

In that case why was he, several hours later, in the disco (which he hated)     looking for her? But it was too late to ask that. They saw each other at the same time, and she waved, beckoning him over to dance. Red suited her, and she wore a little red dress that would have tormented a saint. No one should look like that! The skirt swung and lifted as she spun round, "accidentally" revealing her lovely lower buttocks, scarcely covered by very skimpy knickers.

The reason Lee disliked discos was that he couldn’t dance, which Julia instantly realised, laughing. She danced as adroitly as she exercised, and Lee was thankful that the next dance was a slow one.

"You can hold me closer than that," Julia encouragingly whispered, steering his right hand to the narrowness of her waist. "That’s better," she purred, moving her body against his. Lee gritted his teeth, and tried to think about girls arranging flowers, and beauticians at work in their parlours. This was Woman that he was up against (literally), and it was having an embarrassing effect on him.

When the dance ended, he made a drinking gesture with his hand, and nodded towards the bar. Julia consented, he bought drinks, and they sat outside with them.

"It was funny to see you in the gym this afternoon," Julia began. "I’m nearly always in there by myself. I may be on holiday, but I think it’s important to keep fit.

"I have to," replied Lee, unable to resist the temptation to boast, "I’m a wrestler."

Julia clapped her hands, declaring, "Oh, I love a good fight!"

"Well I don’t do much in the way of spectator wrestling," Lee rather gruffly added, "I’m more of a club wrestler."

Julia raised an eyebrow, and corrected him: "I don’t mean watching a fight."

"There’s no call for ladies’ wrestling in my club," Lee stammered.

"I’ll fight anyone, man or woman," Julia regarded him steadily.

"Really?" croaked Lee.

"Certainly. I’d fight you, for example."

"Well I don’t know about…"

"Because if you fight as well as you dance, I’d swing you from here to the next island."

"I don’t take to being threatened."

"Do something about it then. Two o’clock, tomorrow afternoon, on the private beach. I’ll book it first thing in the morning. Thank you for the drink."

With that she got up and walked off, swaying her hips ever-so-slightly, but enough to be suggestive.

It was Lee’s childhood nightmare: facing the prospect of defeat at the hands of a woman. Of course it wasn’t pre-ordained that she would win, but he had a nasty feeling that Julia would be a skilled wrestler. Empty boasting didn’t seem to be her style – and she was the personification of style. How had he got himself into this? But it was too late for that question, because there she was, the lady in red, waiting for him on the private beach. She was wearing the same leotard of the previous day. He had opted for just a pouch covering his manhood, and felt rather self-conscious about it now. 

She acknowledged him with a nod. No friendly wave this time! "Shall we start?" she asked, all business-like. Lee nodded, and adopted a fighting stance, which she mirrored.

Julia opened the combat with a high right kick, which Lee parried with his knee. That boosted his confidence. There was nothing wrong with that defence. Time for him to attack. He aimed a flying left kick at Julia’s ribcage, but she leant back out of its trajectory. Landing on his left, he aimed a high right kick, which she avoided in the same way, timing it perfectly.

Lee had fatally over-reached: while he was still following through, Julia balanced on her right hand and knee, and powered a left kick into his groin. It slapped home sickeningly. Lee’s mouth opened in silent agony. His head shot back; then he crumpled down on the sand in the foetal position, his hands clutching his wound.

"Going dancing tonight? No?" Julia mocked, kneeling beside him, and effecting concern.

"She’s a sadist," thought Lee, for the moment incapable of fighting – or indeed doing anything.

Julia remained kneeling, reached out, and hauled Lee’s left arm over her right knee in a lock. The searing pain momentarily made him forget that in his groin. She dragged him by that arm, so that his face rested against her right thigh. How ironic to think it was this sort of thing that Lee had been anticipating for his holiday, but without having to fight!

The pain increased as she notched up the pressure, bending his arm backwards over her leg, and eliciting a yell from Lee. She maintained the hold while removing her leg, so that effectively she had him in a half-Nelson, though with his arm forced away from his back. He had been helpless ever since the groin kick, so she was able to manipulate him as she chose. She now sat on the small of his back, and adopted yet another variation of the arm lock by slipping it through the crook of her elbow, nuzzling against her left breast, and clutching his hand at her waist.

"You can hold me closer than that," Julia echoed her invitation from the previous night, and continued, "You see I know all about you. You hate and fear a strong woman, but you can’t get her out of your mind, can you? CAN YOU?" she insisted, exerting more pressure.

"No!"

"I watched you try the dumb-bells after I used them, through the key hole of the next room. I heard you say ‘Bloody hell!’ I knew I’d see you at the disco. There are a lot of men like you, and I love to fight them. Yes, I love it! You waver between dread and attraction, don’t you?"

"Yes," Lee admitted, this time before she could pile on the pain.

But she did it anyway, raising him up off the sand by his stricken arm, until he yelled once more when she reapplied her knee as an anvil.

At last she relinquished the various locks on his arm, to his relief. It was only momentary gratitude though, for now she forced his chest and face down on the sand between her crouching legs, and bent his frame backwards, upside down, while hooking his legs in her arms, in a Boston crab. 

"Oh, God," moaned Lee, tasting sand on his tongue as he did it. Julia worked him into greater unnatural stretches, in absolute command, until she had him crashing down on his back, trapping his left leg in a lock. To Lee, with his back to the sea, the waves sounded closer. Please let the tide come in! Please, something happen to stop this! She was ferocious, yet methodical at the same time. His leg was trapped between her legs, and worked by her hands as if it were dough. Further and further she forced it, against and away from its natural angles. Lee’s mouth opened in mute excruciation.

Suddenly tiring of the hold, Julia shot to her feet. She heaved Lee off the sand, wedged his neck and head between her upper thighs, and his arms backwards, so they were locked in her crossed arms, in a pedigree.

"That’s not bad for the second day of your holiday, is it?" she crowed. "I bet you planned on getting your face between a woman’s thighs once or twice this week! Now, hold tight for the ride!"

It was a superb display of strength and skill. With his neck and arms still secure in their holds, she raised him bodily off the sand, showing a mastery of balance and poise. He was suspended in mid-air, his head trapped in that feminine, inescapable prison. She held him there, relishing his discomfort and uselessness. Almost reluctantly, she ended his suspension, and slammed him down on the sand, to complete the pedigree, kneeling either side of his head, and still holding his arms in a position that nature never intended. It set her up comfortably for her next move.

"Is she working through the alphabet?" Lee wondered, as he found himself lifted upside down, still with his head in her thighs, and secured by her hands at his waist, in a pile driver. He clung onto her thighs to steady himself. It was all he could do as he braced himself for the crunch that he was sure must come. Sure enough, they landed together, she on her splendid bottom, he on his vulnerable head. She bent him down, briefly tormenting his cock through his pouch, before lying him on his back and pinning him with her left knee and both hands.

She looked into his eyes without saying a word, and moved her right thigh against his cock. Naturally it responded. She developed the pin so that his face was a few inches from her generous breasts, graduating into a schoolgirl pin. In a first attempt to fight back, he tried to push her away, but she swatted the half-hearted move away, and locked his arm. Her left hand rested ominously on his throat.

Lee was nothing if not resilient, and he tried to use his weight to prize her off him, arching his body off the sand. A confused struggle ensued, with both fighters panting and gasping, until Julia decided the issue by moving up his body and hauling both of his arms into opposite locks beneath her left thigh. She twisted; he shrieked.

Remembering how he could have escaped from the schoolgirl pin, she now chose a different pin. Stretching his arms outwards, she lay across him, holding his left arm, with his chin just beneath her breast. Her strong thighs meant that his right arm had nowhere to go. Her large, round, womanly bottom trapped his right shoulder.

It was a move she had rehearsed and perfected. Sensing victory, Julia swung herself underneath him, raised him up, punched him in the stomach, and placed him, dazed, on his feet. While Lee was still wondering quite what she’d done, she launched a devastating backward left kick to the face, supported by her hands and right foot on the sand. As he tried to steady himself, she jumped and somersaulted, catching his jaw with her right knee, and grabbing his manhood. He tottered, threatening to collapse several times, while her evil hand did its work.

It was a vain struggle, though, and he landed on his back. She sat on his face in the "69" position, maintaining the pressure on his cock and balls. She’d won, and her prize was to have him use his mouth to pleasure her, while she increased the torture on his manhood. His face was submerged in womanhood, his balls in victimhood.

"Yes!" Julia celebrated as she orgasmed, and Lee passed out. 

"What a great holiday!" she sang out, standing up, her right arm raised in victory. "Sun, sea, discos, a gym, and a man I’ve just beaten up lying at my feet!"