Intergenerational Pro/Sex Bout (NC-17)

Inspired by C's Generational Family Mixed Tag match. Don't read if
you're under 21 (or perhaps under 35)...contains lots of naughtiness.


********
"What a stupid match. Old people wrestling...like anybody cares! And
those old women! Geez, maybe thirty years ago they might have been
half-way tough, but wrestling is a lot more competitive now than in
the dark ages, and those saggy old bitches are so far past their
primes that it's not even funny."

So spoke Matt Powers after seeing the AAAA mixed tag match. Matt was
always known for his cockiness, but with understandable cause: as a
junior he went undefeated for six years in the underground family
wrestling league. No opponent, male or female, could match his size,
power, speed, and nastiness. And now, at twenty-one, he was
developing quite a reputation in the adult AAA division. In fact,
some observers thought he should have the title already; the trouble
was, nobody would give him a title shot. Crystal Hooper might be
feared throughout the league, but even she always managed to have a
reason not to wrestle Matt. At 6'3" tall and 235 pounds, he was much
bigger than most of the league members. A track star and fabulous
tennis player, he was much quicker than many people half his size.
And he had an incredible tolerance for pain. It seemed that he had no
weaknesses as a fighter.

Except, perhaps, his cockiness.

As Matt derided the older men and women who had just wrestled, he
didn't care who heard him or what their response might be. The next
week he scowled scornfully when Jean Hooper strode up to him in the
gym and challenged him to a one-on-one match.

"Are you crazy?" he asked, barely pausing in his weight-lifting
routine. "You couldn't beat a couple sixty-year old men. I weigh one
hundred pounds more than you. I'm thirty years younger than you. I'd
kill you, old woman."

"Then what do you have to worry about, little boy?" cooed Jean as she
ran her polished fingernail around the rim of his ear. Matt faltered
in his lifting and slammed the barbell down angrily.

"Damnit, bitch, I want to face Crystal, or a top contender. It won't
help my rankings to put you in the hospital."

"How about this, hon? If you beat me, you'll get a title shot against
Crystal. I promise. After all, I have family connections." Jean
grinned.

"Put it in writing an you're on. Just don't expect me to take it easy
on you."

* * * * *

In Matt Powers' locker room before the bout, his mom was working hard
to make him take the match seriously.

"Mattie, don't overlook her. Jean Hooper was one of the best in her
prime. And she's mean."

"Yeah, Mom, she's about 120 pounds of mean. She's past her prime."

Mrs. Powers shook her head. "For your sake, I hope you're right. I
worry about you. And why did you have to agree to the `Three
Different Fall' stipulation? I don't think that works in your favor."
She was referring to the somewhat unusual arrangement that each of
the falls of the match had to be won in a different manner: pinfall,
knockout, and submission. In other words, if one wrestler won the
first round by a knockout, for instance, then a knockout could not end
either of the next two falls. If the second round happened to
conclude with a submission, then the final round would have to be won
with a pinfall.

"Geez, Mom, what difference could it possibly make? I can beat her
any way I want."

"I know you can, honey, but still, with your size and strength you'll
always be able to pin her, and that's easier for you. But you can
only win one fall that way."

"Mom, you worry too much," said Matt as he headed toward the ring.

Meanwhile, Crystal Hooper was expressing her concerns about the match
to Jean.

"What are you thinking? He's young, he's huge, he's an animal. I
know you're good, but this is ridiculous."

Jean smiled as she looked in the mirror and applied her lipstick.
Even at her age, she looked pretty hot. And with her long, manicured
fingernails and fresh makeup, Jean would turn any man's head.

"Yes, Crystal, he's good. Probably he's better than me. But he's
cocky. And that will be his downfall."

Crystal shook her head doubtfully. "And what's up to agreeing to
wrestle without boots?"

Jean laughed. "The poor boy thinks my only possible chance is to kick
him with my wrestling boots...you know, sometimes a well-placed boot
can turn the tide of a match quickly. Matt thinks if I'm barefoot I
won't have any weapons at all."

"Well," said Crystal, "I don't honestly see what weapons you do have
against him."

Jean giggled again and ran her fingernails up her bare stomach and
then squeezed her ample breasts. "I'm a woman, Crystal, and I know
how to beat a man."

* * * * * * *

The match began as most do: the two wrestlers approached each other
cautiously, circled briefly, and then locked up collar and elbow. As
one might expect, Matt Powers used his considerable size and strength
advantage to shove Jean Hooper backwards. In fact, he was so much
stronger that his shove sent her sprawling across the ring, flat on
her back.

Jean was slow to get up. Matt laughed at the woman who was
thirty-five years his senior. They went to lock up again, but this
time Jean feinted forward and then lashed out with her right foot,
aiming a roundhouse kick at Matt's washboard abs. Without hesitation,
Matt pivoted gracefully and caught the woman's foot, then sent her
spinning to the canvas.

"You'll have to try better than that," he snarled as she pulled
herself to her feet.

Furious, Jean leapt into the air, trying to get a flying headscissors
on her young opponent. Matt easily caught the woman in mid-air,
pressed her over his head, and then gorilla-slammed her to the mat.
She bounced and writhed in pain. With little effort, Matt kneeled
down with one knee across the woman's chest. Jean barely moved as the
ref counted to three.

First fall to Matt Powers.

Jean had hardly regained her breath when the second fall began. Matt
strode toward the center of the ring disdainfully, waiting with
obvious impatience for the older woman to meet him there. Jean
approached cautiously, but Matt lunged forward and scooped her up,
over his shoulders, and then flung her down with a devastating body
slam. Jean clutched at her back until Matt pulled her to her feet by
her hair.

Outside the ring Crystal Hooper screamed in frustration, furious that
Matt Powers was showing such a lack of respect to his elders.
Meanwhile, Matt had trapped Jean in a side headlock and was parading
her around the ring, waving to the crowd with his free hand. He
intended to force Jean to submit to the headlock, showing his
incredible superiority. Rarely if ever would a headlock be considered
a submission hold, but Matt was so big and powerful and Jean so
over-the-hill, he thought he could force her to give up. Matt twisted
and rubbed the woman's head between his powerful arm and his chiseled
body. Jean moaned in pain.

"Ask her!" Matt demanded of the ref. Jean refused to submit. Matt
poured on more pressure.

"Ask h--," Matt began, but his command to the ref was cut short.
Jean, showing her experience and cunning, had slipped her index finger
into Matt's Speedos and rammed it straight into his asshole. A
trained nurse, she knew right where to probe. Within seconds she was
massaging Matt's prostate with her long, sharp fingernail, using a
technique that was simultaneously arousing and painful. Matt's grip
on her head slowly loosened, and sixty seconds later Jean had slipped
free.

Matt tried to wrench free but Jean kept close behind him. He was so
distracted with the mixture of arousal and pain that she was able to
twist his right arm into a hammerlock and force him into a corner,
still keeping her index finger in contact with his prostate. It was
an unlikely sight: the huge, virile man trapped in the corner of the
ring, his eyes closed, moaning in pain and excitement, with the
petite, older woman behind him, wrenching his arm high between his
shoulder blades and raping his asshole with one finger.

Jean stood on tiptoe to get her mouth close to Matt's ear. "Feels
good, doesn't it, little boy?" she purred in sexy, taunting voice.
"Are you going to cum for mommy? I think you are, little boy. Come
on, you know you want to cum. Just another few seconds and I'm going
to make you shoot all over yourself, little boy."

Matt realized that he couldn't stop the inevitable. Jean's technique
was too good: she was going to milk him with her prostate massage. To
avoid the embarrassment of being forced to cum, Matt screamed his
submission. "I give up! Take your finger out! I give up!"

Jean giggled at her success. She tried to force him into ejaculation
despite his conceding the fall, but the ref pulled her off.

Second fall to Jean Hooper.

In Matt's corner, his mother was furious. "Why did you submit? What
the hell were you thinking?"

"I didn't want her to make me cum!" spat Matt, furious at the situation.

"Good God! Who cares if you cum or not! This match doesn't have
sexual submissions. It wouldn't have made any difference. But now
you've lost a fall. Just because of your stupid male ego."

"Don't worry," Matt grumbled. "I'm going to knock this old bitch out
now, and quickly."


As the two opponents came out for the third and final fall, the ref
reminded them that as the first was decided by pinfall and the second
by submission, the third fall could be claimed only by a knockout.

Matt gritted his teeth and stormed toward Jean, his member still
mostly aroused from her manipulations in the previous fall. Jean
tried to sidestep the huge man but he was too fast for her. In an
instant he had scooped her over his shoulder into an airplane spin.
After ten seconds of disorienting spinning, Matt slammed her onto the
canvas. Quickly he followed up with a thigh drop across her neck and
throat. Jean was barely conscious when Matt pulled her to her feet by
her hair, hoisted her aloft, and caught her in a bearhug. This was
his signature move. For most it was a submission hold or a weakening
maneuver, but Matt had been known to knock opponents out with this hold.

Jean's feet dangled a foot off the canvas as she groaned and writhed
in the young man's grip. He shook her and bounced her to intensify
the effect. At the ring apron Crystal Hooper was near tears,
realizing that Jean's situation was virtually inescapable.

But neither Crystal or Matt counted on Jean's wiliness and ability to
act while in great pain. Forcing herself to ignore the rib-crushing
pressure and her inability to breathe, Jean brought her long, painted
fingernails up to Matt's eyes and gouged and scratched for all she was
worth. Matt tried to turn his head and shut his eyes, but the damage
was done. Matt managed to maintain the bearhug for a few seconds
while blinded, but Jean landed a double karate chop to the sides of
his neck, forcing him to release her completely.

Jean dropped to the mat, trying to catch her breath, while Matt
staggered around the ring holding his face, hoping his vision would
come back. Jean knew she had to act quickly. Circling the blinded
young man, she delivered a vicious side kick to the outside of his
right knee, forcing the knee to bend inward in a way not intended by
nature. A sickening snap implied that she may have torn one of his
ligaments. Matt fell like a toppled statue.

Jean closed in, preparing to continue the assault, but even in his
blinded and hobbled condition Matt was a formidable foe. As Jean
tried to kick his ribs Matt seized her foot and dragged her to the mat
with him. From the ground he connected with two powerful backfists
that made the audience wince. Pulling himself into a sitting
position, Matt dragged Jean by the hair in between his legs and locked
on a sleeper hold.

The crowd went wild. This certainly looked like the end of the match.
Crystal howled at her mother from ringside.

For most wrestlers, Matt's sleeperhold certainly would have been the
end of the match. But Jean was not most wrestlers. Her forty years
of experience had taught her a thing or two. As she felt the sleeper
being applied, she pulled her head down, contracting her neck as much
as possible, and tilted her head slightly to the side. The effect of
this was to give her carotid artery just a little bit of room and
protection, enough to buy herself perhaps thirty seconds to a minute.
She just had to use that time well!

Jean went back to her earlier tactic of exploiting the big man's
prostate. Her hand slipped behind her and under his balls, probing
for his asshole. Matt could tell what she was trying. "It won't work
this time, bitch," he grunted into her ear. "I don't care if I cum
anymore. And you're going to be unconscious any second."

Jean didn't waste her precious energy bothering to reply. Instead she
focused everything on sliding a finger into his anus. Finally she
did, and despite Matt's best efforts he responded. The involuntary
connection between the prostate and the penis is a powerful thing!
Matt knew he had to keep up the sleeperhold, but nevertheless his grip
relaxed just a bit.

Massaging his prostate just a little longer, Jean felt Matt's hold
loosen a slight bit more. Enough to allow her to pull her head
forward and then: WHAM! Jean rammed her head backward into Matt's
face. She could feel the impact with his nose.

Jean had expected Matt to release the hold after that maneuver.
However, he was incredibly tough and persistent. He maintained the
sleeper, though for twenty seconds or so it was fairly ineffective.
Jean used that time to continue massaging his prostate. Matt
squirmed and wriggled, trying to scoot his rear end away from hers.
She managed to slide with him, though, and her probing finger was
doing its job. It was a race to see if he would knock her out before
he came.

Jean won the race. She felt his member rubbing hard against her lower
back as she sat in between his legs. Within second she felt him
shudder and then the dampness covered her back. Matt moaned and
relaxed the sleeperhold, ever so slightly. Jean again smashed her
head back into his nose.

Finally Matt dropped the hold. Jean scrambled away from him, shaking
the cobwebs from her brain. When she caught sight of her opponent,
she smiled to herself. He lay on his back, groaning. His knee was
swollen, his crotch was wet but his penis was still erect, and his
nose was bloody.

Jean struck quickly, lifting Matt's injured leg off the canvas and
then dropping onto it with both her knees. The big man screamed in
agony as his knee popped again. She had probably torn another ligament.

Matt rolled to his side and grabbed his knee. Jean jumped into the
air and came down with both knees on the side of Matt's skull. While
she winced in pain at the jolt to her own knees, the blow nearly
knocked Matt unconscious. Jean was glad that he wasn't out completely.

She rolled her younger opponent to his stomach. He barely resisted as
she twisted both his arms into hammerlocks. It was surreal to see his
massive, muscled arms being manipulated by the slim, older woman, but
he was in no position to resist. Jean drove Matt's wrists as high in
between his shoulder blades as she could. He whimpered as she began
to feel soft tissue in his elbows give way.

Not satisfied with the destruction of three of his joints, his knee
and both elbows, Jean stood up and placed one of her slender feet in
between the young man's shoulder blades. With both hands she yanked
up on his right wrist, pulling his arm straight up in the air behind
him. His hand grasped vainly at nothing as she stretched his muscular
arm further and further up. As she pulled, Jean dug her long painted
fingernails into the his skin, just as a little extra torture. Matt
groaned and yelped until finally a sickening ripping sound signified
that she had dislocated his shoulder. She mercifully released his arm.

Matt lay in the center of the ring, helpless, while the 56 year old
woman circled him like a shark. Eventually she stopped directly in
front of him. She slid one of her slim feet towards his face and
wiggled her toes, showing off her painted toenails.

"Kiss my foot and I might go ahead and put you out of your misery,
little boy," she demanded.

Matt's eyes could barely focus on the grandmother's feminine foot.
His body might have been broken, but not his will. "Fuck you," he
grunted.

Jean giggled, then dropped with both knees onto his kidneys. Matt
howled. Jean rolled him to his side and sat on his ribs. Matt tried
to push her off, then buck her off, but with his injuries he couldn't
dislodge the 130 pound woman. He could only squirm ineffectually as
once again Jean plunged her long index finger into his asshole.
Despite himself Matt grew insanely hard as she massaged his prostate.
Scratching his penis with her fingernails, Jean jerked him while she
stimulated his prostate, and in no time the young stud had cum again.
Jean caught as much as she could in her palm. Swiveling around, Jean
forced Matt to his back and slid up to his chest. He couldn't stop
her as she force-fed him his own cum. Covering his mouth with one
hand, Jean rubbed his throat with the other until she could tell he
had swallowed everything.

"Ready to kiss my feet, little boy?" she asked, licking her polished
lips just inches over his face.

Matt stared up at his conqueror. How could this little woman, older
than his own mother, have defeated him? Not just defeated him, but
humiliated him? Well, she hadn't defeated him yet, he thought.

"Get off me, bitch," he managed to mutter.

"A glutton for punishment, aren't you, little boy?" cooed Jean. "You
know, I think you're a masochist. I bet you'll like this, then."

Jean grinned and giggled as she began pinching, twisting, and slicing
Matt's nipples with her sharp fingernails. He flailed his arms around
to stop her, but with his injuries that did no good.

"Please stop! Please stop!" he screamed.

"I think you like it, little boy," Jean replied. "I bet you'll like
this, too!" She then grasped his jaw with her right hand, driving her
thumbnail deep into his muscles and her other fingers deep into skin
and muscle on the other side. The mandible claw, expertly applied,
stimulated several painful pressure points. At the same time, Jean
began tormenting his solar plexus with a vicious abdominal claw with
her left hand. His legs involuntarily kicked and spasmed.

Matt emitted a high-pitched whine. Through the mandible claw he was
barely able to whimper, "I submit! I give up! Make her stop!"

"Oh, honey, there's no submissions in this fall," laughed Jean. "I'm
so sorry!"

After twenty seconds of her dual claw holds, which seemed like an hour
to Matt, Jean released him from the torture. Straddling the huge but
broken man, Jean beamed. Sweat dripped off her sagging breasts onto
her devastated opponent.

"Matt, sweetie," Jean said, slapping his face lightly to help him focus.

He looked up at her through glassy eyes.

"Say `An old woman beat me up' and I might end this."

"An old woman beat me up," Matt groaned without hesitation.

"Good boy. Do you want mommy to kiss it and make it better?"

"Yes. Make it better," Matt pleaded.

Jean bent down over the young man and took his face in her hands.
With a thumb and forefinger she pinched his nose shut. As he looked
up at her shiny, lipsticked lips, Jean closed in and planted a huge
kiss on Matt's mouth. As a final show of dominance, Jean forced her
tongue into his mouth and raped him orally, in a sense. Soon he
realized why she had pinched his nose shut...it was in order to
suffocate him through the kiss. He tried to turn his head aside but
she held him fast. The last thing he remembered was the feel of her
hair tickling his face, the smell of her perfume, and the probing of
her tongue around his mouth.