Erotica Anthology #13

#79

Wrestling Women 2

Marah & Beth

Marah has wild, curly red hair that is styled in a strange, almost clown-like hairstyle shape. She is in her mid fifties, slightly overweight by American standard, and a divorcee. Her husband left her almost five years ago, leaving her to live alone in the house where they started their live together. Their children are all already grown, and they have children of their own. The kids never visit anymore, leaving Marah to fester in her anger for feeling abandonment.

Marah likes the color white, even though she knows that the color will never look complimentary on her body shape. She particularly likes flowy, white dresses. Sundresses, made of silk. Paired with heels, even though she’ll never get the chance to wear them out. She’s rarely invited to any social gathering, let alone go out much. But she likes to make a stop at the local mall to check out some of the latest fashion trend, just before going for grocery shopping. People stare at her when she drags out her own trolley.

The woman likes to dress up sometimes, even though she’s alone at home. Sometimes she just dresses up for the likes of it, just to do chores or cook. The makeup she puts on will melt on her meaty, wrinkled face, but that’s alright. It’s not like anyone will see her, anyway.

*

Beth is a blonde. She looks almost like Marilyn Monroe, if the famous actress were in her mid fifties, overweight, and a loser. Beth is divorced, living in a tiny apartment in a crowded ghetto part of the city, barely having enough money from her retirement pension and divorce settlement.

The woman’s best feature is her shiny pale blonde curls, cut short just to be manageable. She used to have her hair overgrown past her shoulder when she was young and still married, but now she thinks… what the heck? It’s not like anyone’s gonna appreciate beauty anyway—not from her, surely. She’s short, fat and ugly. The mole on her left cheek is an insult to beauty marks.

Living alone for such a long time only makes Beth even more negative. She likes to shout and vent her anger at other people. Her wild eyes always move to find the faults in other people and point it out in the rudest way possible. Maybe that’s why all her neighbors hate her. She has never been invited to any of their social gathering—and they throw plenty of those. Almost every other week, people will cheering for hours from next door. When she has enough, especially at night time, Beth is not shy to let her opinions and displeasement be known.

Beth has green eyes, but they are darkened by her anger.

Beth’s clothes are all black. It’s not just because she lacks the money to buy clothes in any other color. It’s also because ever since she had been divorced by her husband, she treats everyday like a funeral. She’s old and tired. All of her youth has been sucked away by all of those years working to please her ex-husband. And now that he’s gone—away to chase some younger skirt—she has nothing else to give, but fester in her anger and frustration by treating everyday like trash. That’s how she treats all the people around her too, until she ends up chasing them all away. Even those who once loved her, love her no more.

*

One day, both of them just happen to visit the same website, and post in the same forum. Wrestling Women, the site is called. Both of them happen to be fans of WWE championship. Watching these matches are just one of the little things that they can still enjoy these days. So what are the odds that these two start commenting on the same post, then went off chatting for hours, sending messages to each other so fast, they can’t put their laptops away because they are having too much fun chatting with each other.

They find out that they have more things in common than one. Both of them favor the same divas. Same age, same living situation, same feelings of abandonment. They reply to the post for so many times that they hit the one hundred count before they even know it. Then they move the conversation to a more private channel, via private messages. They continue on chatting, multitasking in having dinner and watching the new night show from the couch at the living room. They find out that they practically have the same activity. What’s missing is a friend, something to share how their day have been.

The two find comfort in each other. In a matter of hours in one night, they feel like they’ve been friends forever already. They share so many things in common, it’s not hard to sympathize with each other. Even though they’ve never met each other in real life, it feels like there’s something special about their bond of friendship. For the first time in years, they can feel something real going on in their lives.

One thing lead to another, they start conversing deeply about wrestling. While none of them has ever have any real experience in fighting, let alone wrestling, they would really like to have a real match someday. It’ll be quite the workout. Their curiosity soon get the better of them. Their chatting session intensify and quickly escalate into a whole new different level, to the point that each of them start teasing the other about really getting it on and just having a match with each other. At first it’s just some simple teasing, but then things get really serious when they start challenging one another, just so that they can have something to channel all of this anger and frustration that has been penning up inside them.

Eventually, the two of them agree to meet at a specific time and location, somewhere secluded enough where they won’t be disturbed while they do their workout.

Marah happens to live in a farm, just outside the city outskirt near the town Beth lives in. The two decides to have a match at Marah’s farm, where they can finally have a go on what they’ve been wanting to go. All of these pent up frustration sure make their decision easy to meet up.

It will be quite a day once they get there, so the two of them make sure that they prepare themselves properly, including dressing up and eating enough to sustain their energy for how many hours they are going to fight.

*

Marah spots an old van pulling into the outskirts of her farm. Minutes later, the vehicle stops just outside her cabin house. A blonde middle aged woman whose body is just as round as hers then step out of the van, eyes squinting from the bright sunlight, trying to spot someone.

Marah steps out of her cabin house, then asks, “Are you Beth?”

“Yup, that’d be me,” Beth raises her hands presentingly, pursing her thin lips as she does so.

“You’re not just saying that so you can get into my house and kill me, are you?”

Beth snorts an unladylike snort. “Honey, if I were a serial killer, I wouldn’t let my presence be known.”

Marah chuckles a little. “Well, I guess that’s kinda true. So, what should we do? Should we begin right away?”

Beth claps both of her thick, meaty hands together. “Heck yeah. Let’s go!” She starts unbutton the start of her top, but Marah stops her.

“Not here. I’ve prepared a place for us.” Marah guides Beth to a rather large looking barn next door, which happens to be empty of animals, because all the cows have been put outside in the field to feed by themselves for the day.

It’s still morning, no later than 8 a.m., and someone has already gotten work started.

“Should I be worried if you turn out to be the serial killer now?” Beth asks, a bit none unenthusiastically, looking around the closed space.

“I’ve put all the tools away, so you don’t have to worry about bumping into sharp objects,” Marah says. “So, I suppose you also have a reason for doing this? I know that you might think this is crazy, but for me, ever since my ex husband left me, I just felt to empty in life. It’s like there’s this void inside me that eventually turned to anger, and I just need to have an outlet to let it all out. I guess my hope is to stop feeling this way, once I get it all out.”

“Yeah, you should get it all out. I know I need an outlet, too. Been insulting all my neighbors since, but I don’t think verbal insults are gonna cut it anymore. I need to punch something solid. Like, go all the way with another person. And it’s gonna be messy, so you better strip down and get ready, else you’re gonna ruin that pretty dress of yours,” Beth gestures at the white flowy dress Marah is wearing, which color compliments her features and complexion, despite how it makes her body mass expands twice as usual.

“Thanks, will do,” Marah nods at the other woman.

They begin stripping down. Beth is wearing a turtleneck black sweater made of wool and some long baggy pants with the same shade, which cover almost all of her entire body. But even the dark shades can’t hide all the fat rolls that has been accumulated on her body for decades. First she takes out her outer layer clothes, going for her shoes next (she’s a size 12), before going for her underwear (which are also black, with some overly stretched bands and patched holes here and there, thanks to her ever expanding body).

Marah pulls her white dress over her shoulders, before she begins discarding her underwear, kicking off her custom-made heels (they don’t make it in her size anymore in this country).

The two of them step into the center of the barn almost at the same time, circling each other from two opposite ends until they end up falling into a fighting stance. They asses each other, not just assessing the opponent’s body shape, but also watching out for the other’s body language.

Both of them practically have a similar body shape. Both of them are overweight, with thick arms and meaty thighs. None of them are particularly tall, and they have equal wrinkles spreading all over their bodies. Their breasts are small, only giving enough weight because of their total body fat. If they were thin, they wouldn’t have any breasts at all.

Their faces are round, thick with meat. Their eyes are small, hidden underneath baggy eyes. Their eyebrows are thick and wild, some hints of grey creeping on the edges. They have not done anything yet, but they can see sweat forming on their forehead, as if they are just a couple of sweat factories. There are hair growing in places they shouldn’t be, and then some. Their bushes are thick, showing obvious signs that they haven’t been shaved or wax for quite some time, therefore obscuring their privates quite properly.

“You ready?” Beth asks.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Marah answers, fists raises to her chest level and clenched.

They both start shuffling in their feet from side to side, waiting for the right opportunity to strike. Each of them asses each other, whether it’s watch out for body language or the curves of their fat. Both of them roughly share the same body type, with roundness in the middle and thick rolls of fat at each limp. Their faces are round, thick with fat, with the start of their thinning hair crowning their head, as if barely hanging on. Nothing expresses their condition better than the word depressing. But all of this wouldn’t have happened if it were not for their ex husbands.

The thought of their former husband crossing their mind only spike up a spark of anger, and they use that anger to push them confidence forward. With muscles itching to get some action, they start to tense up and preparing to launch.

Then, without any warning, both of them sprints toward the other, meeting right in the middle of the circle. The two women collides into each other in full force. If it were any other person with smaller body frame, they would have been able to knock down anyone who’s anywhere in the line of fire. But both of these middle aged women are equally as hard and heavy, allowing them to collide and hold into their position still standing.

They are wrestling now, arms wrapping around each other. They grab onto each other’s parts at random, only thinking of trying to take the other down with her. Fierce and ruthlessness are written all over their faces, replacing the calm and otherwise docile looks on their normal, everyday faces. The situation quickly escalated into an intense degree, to the point that you can almost see heat rolling off the air around their interlocked bodies around each other.

Marah is the first one to break, delivering a particularly nasty punch that stings like a bee, causing Beth to huddle back from the strong impact. Another fist flies like a wasp, this time belongs to none other than Beth, attacking in retribution. Their fists eventually go flying like a pack of bulldozers, hitting so hard that tooth and blood burst out as the results. And although they are in so much pain from the fight, a part of them is also excited. It’s been a while since the last time adrenaline rush through their bodies like this, they can’t remember the exact moment they felt this excited about anything anymore.

When they get hit from their opponent’s fist, it’s not just simply pain they feel. They also feel excited about feeling the impact of the pain, pumping them up to fight back even more.

They are so engrossed in the fight that sometimes they even end up rolling in the mud, trying to wrestle each other out. Sometimes Marah manage to get on top of Beth, landing punches left and right. At a different time, it is Beth who seems to get the upper hand, landing enough kicks into Marah’s mid section until the redhead almost leaves out gasping for air.

The two women eventually end up beating each other up to a pulp, with blood gushing right out of their mouths and ears. Marah’s left eardrum is now buzzing, still ringing thanks to Beth kneeing her by the side of the head when she was down and helpless on the ground. In retaliation, Marah had also twisted Beth’s midsection so hard, Beth feels like the inside of her stomach has been rearranged from the assault.

Their noses are busted, lips are torn, teeth are knocked out, and ears are bleeding profoundly. They’ve gone way too far from what any everyday normal ladies would behave, and there’s no backing out from this point onward anymore.

Marah and Beth both see red. They don’t care that the other person they are attacking is another human being. They just have this burning need to have it all out on someone—anyone who is in their way. It’s a good thing that both of them have consented to be beaten up by each other like this, because there’s no way that any logical person would stand around for any of this any much longer.

Their muscles are aching all over right now, but that doesn’t seem to be encouraging them to slow down. In fact, their punches only get harder, stronger, packing with ultimate momentum that leaves their ear ringing for minutes. Their breathing grows harder, lungs hunting for air as if the oxygen in the room is about to get away from them anytime soon enough. And when the flow of oxygen is lacking enough, their brains go dizzy and they start to lose their balance.

At this point, when it happens, both ladies start swaying from side to side, barely landing any good punch at the other, before finally tumbling down to the floor. But even falling doesn’t seem to discourage them fast enough, because they get back up just as soon, albeit by climbing on top of one another, trying to weight the other down with her.

The two of them end up fighting for six hours straight nonstop. At this point, their entire body has been covered with blood from head to toe, their faces are barely recognizable anymore. Both of them have lost all of their teeth, and it will be more than just a simple trip to the dentist that can fix all of this mess, not to mention their other injured body parts as well.

They are lying on the mud, tired beyond mercy, sweaty and covered in swells and stinging injuries from top to bottom. Their hair are in tangled mess, looking like two bird nests. Their nails are caked in mud and blood. Overall, it’s not a very good look on their already aging, unproportioned bodies.

In the end, the two ladies laugh out at each other’s condition to their hearts contents. They’ve never really given the chance to go all out crazy like this, and it feels pretty damn liberating to be feeling to free like this. Suddenly, it feels as if half the weight in their chest has been lifted, replaced by this light, peaceful feeling.

Beth is the one who gets up first. It takes some time to get her balance back. The blonde almost trip over her own feet trying to get right back up again. Marah also tries to hoist herself up, but Beth manages to stand up first. The blonde ends up helping the redhead to get up.

It takes some time learning how to walk again. The two large women end up limping back toward Marah’s cabin, to clean up and treat their injuries. They do this by laughing each other off and exchanging some hearty conversation along the way.

“I can’t believe this, but I’ve never felt better in my entire life. My sides are killing me, but I’ve never felt so happy,” Marah says bubbly, limping her way forward.

“Unbelievably, me too,” Beth confesses honestly, for the first time not feeling bitter about sharing her heart with another.

They move slowly because they are still very much hurting. Every part of their bodies are hurting so much that they even decide to ditch their clothes and just walk straight up to the cabin. Besides, it’s not like there will be anyone else nearby to see them walking naked across the farm. The place is practically right in the middle of nowhere.

It stings when water touches their skin, especially with the so many open cuts crisscrossing throughout their entire bodies. But wounds can heal.

*

“So, are you just as pleased as I am after the fight?” Marah just has to ask.

“Heck yeah, I am. Never felt any better,” Beth snorts out. “Never thought this could work out so well, even. I just thought we were going to fight silly.”

“We did, and it was great. I have never felt any better,” Marah confesses, taking a sip from a glass of brandy in her hand.

Beth copies the same movement with hers. “You can say that again. One would never even realize just how pent up anger has been building in herself until she finally have it all out with another.”

“My heart's still beating hard from the fight. My body is still sore everywhere, but it’s a kind of good tired of feeling, if you know what I mean.”

Beth smiles understandingly. “To be honest, I was feeling kinda skeptical about this whole thing, I tell you. I’ve never had the chance to fight someone all out like that. Who would have thought that it would turn out to be so great like this. And you know what?”

“What?” Marah peers at her new friend.

“I think we should do this again some other time. You know, just to let out some steam. What do you say?” Beth raises her glass in the question.

Marah’s eyes warm up at the blonde woman. “Yeah, I think that’ll be a great idea. I’d like your suggestion very much.”

“Cheers!” They click their drink together, filling up their stomachs with warm liquor until they both end up pass out drunk, the pain in their bodies consequently dulling out in return.

*

Two years later, Marah and Beth are both happily married, sending their days knitting and baking pies together. Beth had decided to move into Marah’s farm, discontinuing the lease of her crappy apartment downtown. Marah’s cabin is big enough for the both of them, sharing spaces and cleaning up after themselves.

They still hold a few wrestling matches on the occasion, though the fight is no longer driven by anger, but passion for each other. Both of them discover their love for wrestling, and also with each other. They finally figure out what’s been missing in their live, and that is a like-minded individual who can understand one of the other and to share their passion with. Marah and Beth find these attributes in each other, fitting so well that they decide to get married and live together peacefully in the quiet farm.

Just recently, they even went to a nearby mall to buy a couple of discount handbags, with Beth trying out a bold red color, while Marah tried some classic black purse.

[The End]