“Fantasies of Lyle - Snowbound”

Featuring Mindy, Fantasy Session Wrestler

By Gark

Mindy: Age 27, 36C-24-35, 5' 9½", 145 lb.

Lyle: Age 28, 40" chest, 34" waist, 5'10", 153 lb.

[As told by Mindy]

I was running late for my luncheon date with Lyle, a potential client. He’d had another of my clients contact me on his behalf, so I reasoned that Lyle was probably legit. My other client had known Lyle for a number of years, and they were best of friends. But still, I always met with a new client before setting anything up. I looked around the restaurant, a very posh spot, trying to decide which one was Lyle, but there were no obvious prospects. He must be hiding in one of the booths in back. I asked the hostess, and sure enough, she led me to a booth in the back of the place. I saw that Lyle had a drink, so I told the hostess to have the waitress bring me whatever Lyle was drinking.

As I sat down, I could see that Lyle was quite nervous. It must be his first time. “Hi!” I said, trying to break the ice. “How’re you doing?”

“Fine, I guess… just a little nervous. I’m a bit uncertain about all of this.”

“Oh that’s OK,” I continued, still trying to put him at ease. “Most first-time clients are nervous. Don’t let it bother you. After all, you’re not seeing a prostitute, just a session wrestler who specializes in fantasy wrestling.”

Just then, the waitress brought my drink - a Manhattan no less. This guy must really be nervous!

“I see,” he replied. “I suppose that is better - nothing illegal or whatever in what we do together.”

“Yeah, that’s right. And, if Neville didn’t tell you, let me be very plain right now. Under no circumstances will we have sex! I may or may not be topless, depending on the fee you wish to pay, but my underpants always stay on, and so do yours. Understand that one or both of us may orgasm during the course of our match, but to be absolutely clear, both of our underpants will stay on and we will not have intercourse! Say yes right now if you understand these conditions and agree.”

“Yes, I agree. And, topless will be fine for what I have in mind,” he replied nervously, sipping his drink.

“Why don’t we order before discussing the arrangements further,” I told him.

We picked up our menus and spent a few minutes perusing the large menu. I decided on a Caesar salad with grilled chicken. Lyle selected the London Broil, no doubt very tasty. The waitress took our order, and then brought out a small loaf of freshly baked bread.

After she left, we continued our discussion. “So, after seeing me, are you still interested in wrestling with me?”

“Oh, yes,” he replied, “more than ever. You look strong enough to be convincing, but not so much so that you’re unattractive. In fact, you are a very, very attractive woman.”

“Thank you very much, you’re very kind. And you’re not a such a bad looker yourself,” I told him. It was best not to flatter him too much - I didn’t want to give him any ideas.

Lyle continued, “But I have to ask one thing before we agree to anything, and I hope you don’t mind. It’s kind of delicate.”

I recognized what was coming, but knew from experience that it was best to let him ask. “Go ahead. I won’t be offended.”

“How large are your breasts,” he stammered. “I mean… what size brassiere do you wear? It’s so hard to tell with the loose sweater that you’re wearing.”

“I wear a 36C bra, although it’s a little tight…” I replied matter-of-factly, “all real… no silicone or whatever. Is that acceptable?”

“Oh yes, and sorry for asking. But I needed to know before putting up my money. It doesn’t really matter that much from here, but would you mind telling me the rest of your specifics anyway?”

“Sure, I don’t mind at all. That’s a common request in my profession. I’m 27 years old, 5' 9½" tall, and weigh 145 pounds. I have a 24 inch waist and my hips are 35 inches.”

“Perfect… you sound absolutely perfect. I was hoping we’d be similar in size.”

It was a common enough desire, men wanting a woman large enough to dominate them. “How about you?” I continued. “Do you want to share any of your information?”

“Yeah, I guess it would be only fitting to do that,” he replied.

The waitress picked that moment to drop off our food, so we dug in, continuing to talk as we ate.

Lyle continued. “I’m 5' 10" tall and weigh about 153. I have a 34" waist and wear a size 40 suitcoat. Is that OK? I don’t know any other measurements, or whatever.”

“Oh that’s fine,” I replied. “We should match up real well.”

“I agree,” he said.

“Tell me,” I asked, “Do you have any experience with wrestling? It will help me gauge my reactions to your moves during the match.”

“Nothing too much I’m afraid. I’ve wrestled with a few girlfriends, but they were either too small, too weak, or didn’t try very hard. Although, there was one woman that I wrestled with maybe 6 or 8 times. She was quite strong, and very motivated to win, and did so most of the time. But she wasn’t into fantasy scenarios and wouldn’t remove her top, which would have been a big plus for me - her breasts appeared to be quite large. Unfortunately, she got a big promotion and moved to New York. We’ve kept in touch only sporadically, and she hasn’t been back this way since.”

“That’s too bad,” I told him, “but it’s great that you’ve got some experience. We can let loose a little more… that is if you wish. By the way, what is it you’d like to do… a special scenario… location… clothes? Obviously, I need to know before we have our match.”

I could see that Lyle was becoming more nervous now that I’d put him on the spot. But he managed to continue, nevertheless. “I know that some of this isn’t possible, so we’ll have to pretend a little. My fantasy for this match is that there is an incredible blizzard and many people are snowbound with few places to find shelter. As luck would have it, I find safe haven at a secluded country inn with cabins. Unfortunately, a fairly tall, striking woman has arrived at the inn at the same moment, and there is only one cabin remaining. It has a queen size bed and a couch. Rather than turning one of us away, the innkeeper suggests we share the room - one of us gets the bed and the other the couch.”

“So, we fight over who gets the bed. Is that it?” I asked.

“Sounds pretty dumb, I suppose,” he stammered.

“No, no, not at all,” I reassured him. “This isn’t that different from other requests I’ve had. I think we can manage this at an inn I commonly use, although you’ll have to pay for the room… and a room for my friend Bruno.”

He nodded his assent. “I assume ‘Bruno’ will be nearby in case I turn out to be an undesirable of some sort.”

“Yep… can’t be too careful nowadays… especially with this kind of scenario for our first match.” Then I changed the subject and continued, “What kind of clothes did you have in mind?”

“Well, it’s like this. Ever since I was a teen and first started looking at Playboy, I’ve wanted to mix it up with a woman wearing…”

Needless to say, Lyle told me the rest of it, and I told him my fee. Being topless, as well as spending the night, brought a very significant upcharge, but he didn’t bat an eye. He must be loaded!

=====================

With the stipend Lyle had advanced me, I rented a double bungalow style cabin along the west shore of Lake Michigan for the night, with Bruno in the room on the other side of the wall. That was just his nickname. We’d been here before, and Bruno was well acquainted with the place. He’d worked with me for several years now and was very dependable… and very big and very tough.

And so, Lyle & I found ourselves in the lobby of the West Lakeshore Inn several hours north of Chicago. Obviously, Lyle & I couldn’t involve the innkeeper in our little play, so we began to act out the scenario once we were out of earshot and heading for our cabin.

“I don’t know who you are mister, but there’s no way I’d share my room with you under any circumstances other than these. Hhhmmmppphhh!!” I exclaimed.

“Certainly madam. But these are a trying state of affairs and we must make do as best we can. I’m certain neither of us wants the other to be out in the blizzard tonight, with no fit place to stay,” he replied.

As I unlocked the door, I already knew that the room was just like Lyle had requested. I’d made certain of it when I called in the reservation.

“There’s just one problem though,” I continued. “There’s just one bed and a couch.”

“Yes, I see. How will we decide who gets which?” Lyle replied.

I replied quickly, “I’ll take the bed. You get the couch.”

“That was kind of abrupt. I’m as chivalrous as the next guy, but you didn’t even give me a chance to offer. What if I had wanted the bed?” he asked harshly.

Lyle was a pretty good actor, but I’d had some experience acting myself. I pushed him down hard, onto the couch, saying, “Then I’d have taken it anyway, wimp. I don’t let men push me around. Don’t even try.”

Lyle got up quickly, and in turn hurled me onto the couch. “I’m suddenly not feeling chivalrous at all. I’ll take the bed and you get the couch,” he said acidly.

I got up quickly myself, saying, “That won’t do at all,” staring daggers at him. “I get the bed, and you don’t.”

“What are you gonna do, fight me for it?” he asked wickedly.

“Maybe I will… maybe I will. You’re not so tough looking, and you aren’t much bigger than me. I could probably take you.”

“Only in your dreams, bitch, only in your dreams…” he said nastily.

“For your information, the name is Mindy, and I’m about to be your worst nightmare.”

“Fine, bring it on. And, by the way, my name’s Lyle.”

“I’d be pleased not to meet you, but we’re stuck with each other,” I told him as we started to circle each other warily.

“Winner gets the bed, OK?” asked Lyle.

“Sure, but certainly you don’t want to fight in our good clothing?” I was wearing a satin dress and with white, patterned silk stockings. On the top, I was braless, wearing a sheer, white blouse, which barely concealed my rose-pinkish, already hardened nipples. I always got that way during the pre-fight scenario / proceedings. That was what did it for me! It was foreplay, foreplay, and foreplay in my book! But I had to be careful and not get carried away, or I’d break my own ‘no sex (with males)’ rule. And if word got around, I’d soon be out of business.

Lyle was dressed in a suit coat. “So what do you propose… Mindy?? Do we strip or something?” he snarled.

This was going better than I had hoped, and I was so whipped up that I was anxious to hurl myself at him and fight like crazy for that bed. I could see that Lyle was really wound up, too, itching to go, so to speak. “Sure,” I replied. “I’m game if you are.”

With that, we sat down on opposite ends of the couch, slowly removing our fine clothing and revealing our undergarments. I pulled off my skirt first, revealing my thigh-length silk stockings, garter belt and pink thong-style panties.

Lyle took off his shirt first, as I watched. This was part of the routine he had requested. But I wasn’t acting when I gasped at the sight of his magnificent, V-shaped chest and washboard abs. This was gonna be some kind of contest indeed. This guy was one hot-looking dude!

Then I continued, slowly unbuttoning my blouse, ultimately unfurling my 36C’s. Lyle gasped noticeably at the sight of my nicely shaped orbs, but then contained himself as we continued to act out the scenario.

It was Lyle’s turn, and he dropped his dress pants to the floor, only a tiny pair of thong undies remaining. As he turned to face me, I saw the size of his erection. This guy was huge and really turned on to see me! And, I was incredibly turned on at the sight of him, too. I again reminded myself, this time repeatedly - no sex with male clients, no sex with male clients… It was my job to play out the scenario on behalf of my client, so that I could be paid, I continued to rationalize.

I came to my senses and stood up to face Lyle. He wanted a fairly even contest with me, hopefully not staged, ultimately wanting me to be beat him after a long struggle. It was my job to supply him with that request, but as I looked at that very fine, well-honed body I wasn’t sure whether I could deliver. I was in excellent shape myself, running 3 to 5 miles daily, so my ability to face him was never in question - it was just whether I could prevail against him. Perhaps my experience, or my naked breasts, could give me the necessary advantage, I wondered. Maybe even the garter belt and stockings would prove to be his undoing. I’d have to find out!

We circled each other in front of the couch, arms extended, preparing to begin. My nipples were as hard as rocks, and I couldn’t help but be wet between the thighs. I noticed Lyle staring intently at my very large breasts, so I took a deep breath. His eyes got big as he beheld the full size of my 36C’s. Now I knew that I had a chance if I used my breasts effectively - he was definitely a breast-man. I had no rules regarding breast handling, and it was anything goes as far as I was concerned. Sure, we had discussed general rules, agreeing to certain limitations in order to keep our encounter a safe one. But I hadn’t said anything about my breasts. If a client paid for bare breasts, then they were welcome to do whatever they could manage with them. I wasn’t going to stop a client from groping (or whatever) my breasts during a paid wrestling encounter.

We finally locked up with our arms at each other’s shoulder, standing in front of the couch area. The queen bed was nearby, and I knew we’d be fighting most everywhere within the cabin - that had been his wish. From here on though, nothing was scripted - the only request being a long, hard fought battle, with Lyle’s ultimate surrender - but he’d said I’d have to earn my victory.

I was still whipped up in a frenzy from the pre-fight ‘foreplay’ and anxious to get at him. I knocked his arms to the sides and lunged at his chest, making contact with a bear hug, probably my best move on a guy with a breast fetish. He reacted with a deep gasp as our chests made contact. ‘Yesss!’ I said to myself. This match was indeed winnable!

I squeezed Lyle’s chest as hard as I could, trying to ignore the sensuous contact between our chests. Lyle continued to gasp out, and I wasn’t sure whether it was from pleasure or from pain. As we struggled chest-to-chest, Lyle’s engorged manhood began to bump against me at the waist. It was very hard to ignore that bulge, but I managed somehow.

I flung him down hard on the couch and started to straddle him, but he was too fast and we ended up struggling back and forth along the full length of the couch. His hands and chest continued to make contact with my breasts as we fought. I rolled him to the floor and he landed face down. I sat on his back quickly and applied an arm bar. I had him like that for a few moments, and then he rolled to the side, effectively breaking the hold.

Before I knew it, he grabbed me from behind as I was standing up. He could easily have applied a full nelson and had me helpless, but he chose a reverse breast grope. I know that isn’t a scientific term, but he grabbed both of my breasts from behind and started mauling them. It wasn’t quite a reverse bear hug, but he squeezed my chest hard as he mauled my breasts, nearly lifting my feet from the floor. My nipples were as hard as rocks at being put in such a hold, and I let him have his way with me as I tried to figure out my next move.

At last it came to me! Lyle was standing with his back towards the bed, still mauling my breasts. I pushed off hard and propelled us backwards onto the bed. We landed so hard that I continued to tumble, ultimately flipping over the top of him and landing on my knees on the bed. Lyle lay there on his back, stunned, right in front of me on the bed. I launched myself at him, landing with my face near his bulging crotch, and applied my thighs around his head for a headscissors. We were front to front in kind of a “69” hold, but I definitely had the better of him as I was on the top with my arms squeezing him around the waist and my thighs controlling his head. In this position, I couldn’t help but notice Lyle’s very large, very erect manhood just inches from my lips. Part of me now regretted the rule about keeping the undies on. He would have been such easy game. But then again, realizing where my crotch was at this very moment, I might have been easy game myself - maybe some other time…

Lyle thrashed around for a time, and we ultimately began rolling around back and forth across the bed, still in the 69 hold. Lyle took advantage of the rolling movement to capture me in a headlock, too, and wrap his arms about my waist for a hug/squeeze retaliation. Ultimately, we lay on or sides, still 69’d. We had each other captured equally, and I knew the plan was to test the other’s mettle. I doubled my resolve - as Lyle increased the pressure, so did I. When he let up on the pressure, so did I. But I knew he was still at a big disadvantage as my naked breasts were pressed firmly against his bulging rod. When the pressure decreased, I surreptitiously began to take deep breaths and draw my breasts across the thin fabric of his bulging thong. He gasped lustily each time I did so, and I knew that I could hold out in this position longer than he could.

When Lyle finally realized he was on the losing end of this proposition, he released me fully and pushed away hard. He landed on the floor and my legs were dangling over the edge of the bed nearby. He grabbed them and pulled me off of the bed and onto the floor. I landed with a thud right next to him and we became entangled face-to-face, rolling all around the floor. I knew from experience that men really enjoyed this type of action - first I was on top, and then they were on top, then I, and then they… repeatedly. And I didn’t mind much either. It was the thrill of a possible victory coupled with the thrill of a possible defeat sort of thing.

As we neared the bathroom door, Lyle managed to wedge me against the wall and climbed on top, straddling me at the waist. This was his first major advantage during the match, and I knew he was enjoying having me at a complete disadvantage. He held my arms down over my head and grapevined my legs. He smiled, watching my breasts flop around as I struggled and rolled, desperately trying to get free. This was a submission type scenario, so I wasn’t worried about being pinned. I decided to give him a show, breathing deeply and enlarging my chest, and then struggling hard so my breasts bounced around a lot. He watched intently every movement my breasts made. I rubbed my silk stockings along his thighs whenever I could manage, and I could see he liked that a lot, too. So, it was silk stockings and breasts that did it for this guy. I’d try to use that to my advantage at some point. But for now, being an exhibitionist of sorts, I continued the breast show, undulating beneath him as I struggled for release.

As Lyle became increasingly distracted, I managed to get my arms free and force him off me to the side. I jumped up and ran into the bathroom. He rose and followed quickly, but a little too much so. I was off to the side and jumped on his back as he came through the door. I was riding him like a bucking bronco, although he was standing upright, with my legs wrapped around his waist and my arms around his neck. He managed to back out of the bathroom, and I rode him around the room as he tried to dislodge me from his back. I squeezed as hard as I could with my legs and I could see they were taking a toll on him. I steered Lyle back onto the bed, and when we flopped down I turned the hold into a devastating waist scissors. Lyle grimaced in pain, and I felt a little sorry for him. But this was what he had asked for, so I didn’t hold back.

Lyle frantically tried to break free. He grabbed at my breasts hard, trying to maul them and make me let go. He squeezed and twisted a rock hard nipple and I gasped out in pain! He’d pay for that! I pulled his hands away from my chest and squeezed his waist even harder. His hands were still seeking targets and I did my best to thwart him, but from time-to-time, he really connected with my breasts and nipples.

Well, if he wanted them that badly, I’d just give them to him. His head was nearby, so I released the waist scissors and pulled his face against my breasts for a smother. My arms were around him, so breaking free wasn’t going to be easy. I had insisted on a “no kicking, biting or hitting” rule and felt safe with my breasts so close to his open mouth. Incredibly though, he managed to catch his breath from time to time and began to lick my breasts, especially at the nipples. This was a new twist indeed, I told myself, as the temperature around my crotch shot way up. This guy was turning me on in order to get free, and amazingly, it was working!

I let go and got off of the bed - time to regroup. Lyle obliged, following me to the floor. We faced each other again, a wariness showing in both of our faces. We each knew we faced a worthy opponent. The problem was that it was my job to subdue him, and I wasn’t that confident anymore. Lyle was a real handful. If he weren’t so badly distracted by my breasts and silk stockings, I might not have had any chance against him, and his request would go unsatisfied.

I determined to redouble my efforts and subdue him. We rushed each other, again meeting at chest level, but this time also meeting at the legs. I curled my silky legs around one of his, pressed my breasts against him, and then forced his arms back with my own. He tumbled backwards to the floor and I was on him. We began to roll back and forth, our legs entwined, our arms struggling with the others arms in what must be the prelude to the finale of this battle. Our crotches ground against each other as we struggled and rolled. Lyle’s face was joyful, but determined. I was glad he was enjoying himself. I certainly was!!

But how could I end this battle and finish him off? We were so equally matched! I decided to pull out all the stops and let go of one of his arms. I grabbed his manhood through his shorts and started stroking him rapidly. Lyle gasped loudly, and then realized I was vulnerable as well. He put his hand on my panties and began stroking rapidly at my clit. Now what had I got myself into?? This wasn’t intercourse, and like Bill Clinton, I decided it wasn’t sex. But it was very, very close!

It was now a new sort of clash, both of us grasping and clutching at the other’s crotch area, rolling around in the final throes of battle. Finally, I forced him into an upright position on the floor, sitting upright with his back against the couch. I quickly jumped on top and straddled Lyle at the waist, making sure my silk stockings were rubbing against his thighs. I grabbed his arms and forced them back over his head. Then I pressed my breasts forcefully against his chest and face, rubbing them back and forth, up and down against him. Lyle moaned loudly as I then began to grind my womanhood against his manhood, crotch vs. crotch so to speak. It was a real contest now, he against me. I knew I couldn’t hold out much longer, but maybe it would be long enough? My main advantages were my breasts and silk stockings. I figured it would be a draw between our crotches otherwise. I concentrated on rubbing my stockings against his thighs as we continued to grind away at each other. Lyle made no attempt to get away, satisfied to finish the battle here and now. I breathed deeply, placing my 36C breasts with their rock hard nipples right in front of his face. That did it, and just in time, too. Lyle screamed out in the throes of orgasm, finally managing to rasp, “I submit, dear woman. You’ve bested me in fair combat”.

Sure it was corny, but I absolutely loved it, especially considering the position I was in, still rubbing against the vestiges of his bulging manhood. That was all it took - words can be potent weapons in sex, too. A scant few seconds later, I shuddered & shook, screaming out in pleasure, exploding in the most violent orgasm I’d experienced in some time.

Later, lying close to Lyle’s nearly naked body on the floor near the couch, basking in our mutual release, I realized that hadn’t been satisfied like that in a long time, I decided to ask him a very straightforward question. I whispered softly in his ear, purring as best I could, “You wouldn’t want to do that again sometime, would you?”

Lyle smiled a very large smile indeed, saying, “Most certainly, dear woman. Besides, I have a few more choice scenarios in mind. I wouldn’t want to let them go to waste.”

I smiled in return. There was no place we could go tonight. We were in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night, and we had paid the overnight fee. So I said, “We should get some rest. You get the couch and I’ll take the bed. I won, after all.”

Lyle gave me a hurt look, and then headed for the couch. “Oh, just kidding you dumb lummox. Come on over to the bed and cuddle with me. Keep me warm tonight. But… we still keep our underpants on,” I reminded him.

I awoke the next morning happy and refreshed, satisfied that I had done my job and fulfilled my client’s need (as well as my own). Lyle was already in the shower, and I could hear him singing an old rock tune - not a bad voice, either. Obviously, another happy client.

The End