How I Put Myself on Display in a Private Wrestling Lesson

Hi everyone. We’re two friends; you can call us Marina and Lucía, and we’ve been reading this site for a while until one day we decided to stop just reading and start telling. This time I’m writing, Marina, about something I did recently and still can barely believe I had the nerve to do.

First of all, let me describe myself a little. I’m very short, with long, straight hair that I dye depending on my mood; right now it’s an almost-black blue. I’m not thin, I won’t lie to you about that, although I’m nothing out of the ordinary, except for one thing: my tits are enormous. For years I thought about getting them reduced because they weigh a ton for my height and, depending on how I’m dressed, it looks like I’m hiding a pregnant belly under my T-shirt. But lately I’ve grown fond of them. They draw looks even when I’m covered up, and it turns out those looks get me a lot wetter than I’d ever admit out loud.

Lucía is a little taller than me, slim, with a head of wavy black hair she refuses to dye no matter how much I insist. She dresses with a bit of a gothic edge that suits her beautifully and has perfectly normal tits, neither big nor small. She’s already done her first little stunt, which she’ll tell you about when she feels like it. Mine started like everything ours does: a silly conversation on a boring afternoon, talking about the exhibitionist stories we devoured, wondering whether we’d be able to soak our panties by teasing a stranger.

It turned out I could.

Until then, the most I’d ever tried was going to the supermarket in a lower-cut top than usual. I could feel the difference, sure, but the size of my chest already drew attention on its own, so a bit more cleavage didn’t seem like enough. I needed a situation, a setting where contact would be inevitable, where a cock would inevitably be pressing into me and I could pretend it was all an accident.

The answer showed up pasted to a lamppost.

A wrestling academy had opened up fifteen minutes from my place. I’d never paid it any attention, but the poster had a photo of two men grappling on the floor, tangled up on a mat, and something inside me sparked—straight to between my legs. I looked into it a little and confirmed what I suspected: most of the work was done on the ground, body against body, with their cocks pressed hard against a woman’s cunt. I told Lucía that very night and, between nervous laughter and my panties already wet, I decided to go for it.

***

I called to ask for information and they sent me the schedule by text. There were several time slots with different instructors, all with students, except one: the last one before closing, empty. I signed up for that one without hesitation. The instructor appeared in some of the photos they sent me, a strong guy, with an ordinary but attractive face, the kind of arms that make you want them to hold you down on the floor and fuck you without asking. A private lesson with him, alone, with the intentions I had, promised to be entertaining.

The day of the class I dressed with full intent. I’d informed myself properly about what clothes were suitable and did exactly the opposite. Sweatpants were a good choice, yes, but the thin, low-cut cotton T-shirt absolutely wasn’t: the moment I started sweating it would cling to my skin and show my nipples through. And on top of that, underneath I wore a black lace bra, underwired, one size smaller than I needed. My tits barely fit inside it, spilling out everywhere, with my nipples already hard just from imagining what was about to happen. It didn’t squeeze me so much that it hurt, but there was an obvious risk that something would slip out of place the second the movements got rough. In fact, I was driving to the academy and already feeling my panties soaked, clinging to my cunt at every traffic light.

Or that’s what I hoped, anyway.

I arrived a bundle of nerves, though I went in pretending to be more confident than I felt. The receptionist, the same one I’d spoken to on the phone, showed me to the room. I pushed the door open and found a large space with tatami covering the floor. And then I noticed the first twist of the afternoon: the instructor wasn’t alone.

Beside him was another guy, in his early twenties, handsome and quite a bit more muscular, both of them in white gi, one with a black belt and the other with a white one. Apparently another student had joined at the last minute for that hour. The instructor stepped forward with a smile and held out his hand.

—Hi! Are you Marina? —he asked. I shook his hand, nervous. —I’m Diego, your instructor. This is your trial class, right?

I nodded, glancing sideways at the other guy, who greeted me with a nod and not a single smile. I glanced at the bulge in his pants: it was pretty visible under the gi. My cunt clenched all at once.

—This is Andrés, he signed up for this slot too —Diego said, gesturing at him—. He’s been training for a couple of months, but don’t worry, it won’t affect you. We’re going to start with the basics.

Inside, my original plan was wobbling and rearranging itself at the same time. Two instead of one. Two potential cocks instead of one. This could go a lot better than I thought.

***

The class started with a warm-up. Every movement made my tits swing from side to side, and with the clothes I’d chosen, the effect was impossible to ignore. Diego didn’t seem to notice, or else he hid it well. Andrés, on the other hand, had not a shred of subtlety: his gaze dropped to my cleavage every few seconds, and once I’d swear he ran his hand over his crotch to adjust himself. I made sure to sway a little extra, leaving a generous strip of skin visible every time I bent down, with my nipples already so hard they showed through the lace bra.

After the warm-up, Diego explained the first technique, a side pin, focusing on making sure I, the beginner, understood it. He lay down first and I positioned myself over him, crosswise, trying to block him. My tits mashed against his side, spilling over the neckline of my shirt until one nipple popped fully out, rubbing against the bare skin of his chest through the opening in the gi. He was telling me where to press so he couldn’t escape, but I was much more aware of how my flesh was rubbing against his pec and how, at my hip, the hard shape of his cock was starting to press into me.

I looked at his face and caught him clenching his teeth. He was hard, without a doubt, and fighting like hell not to let it show. I made a stupid little adjustment movement and rubbed his groin with my thigh. A low gasp slipped out of him, which he tried to cover with a cough.

Nothing more happened, to my disappointment, though I wondered how hard his cock would have been if we’d been alone. Diego had me get up and stood as well, discreetly adjusting the front of his gi. Then he pointed at Andrés.

—Okay, now you go on top. Marina, you have to try to get Andrés off you while he keeps you pinned. It’s the same as what we just practiced, only with the roles reversed.

I lay down and Andrés positioned himself on top of me. Being more solidly built, his chest pressed against mine with more force, skin against skin through the ever-thinner fabric. And there, between my half-open legs, I felt the hard bulge of his cock pressing against my cunt through the sweatpants crystal clear.

And that was when everything changed.

With Diego, everything had been slow, instructional, neither of us moving much. Andrés didn’t stay still for even a second. He grappled for real, making any attempt to slip free harder, and with every movement his hard cock rubbed directly against my soaking cunt. Through the fabric I could feel it growing on him, getting thicker with every second, the head jabbing right against my clit every time he shoved his hips forward to pin me down. My panties were already dripping; I was sure the wet patch showed through the sweatpants.

The friction of his body against mine was too much for the bra, which after a few seconds let one of my tits slip free. It was still hidden under my T-shirt, but a couple more jolts nearly pulled it all the way out. The nipple came with it right away, rubbing against his muscles, so hard it almost hurt.

At first he didn’t notice. Then he stopped dead, pulled back a couple of inches and looked down, startled, with my bare tit right in front of him, the huge dark nipple pointing straight at his face. A quiet “fuck…” slipped out of him.

I kept pretending I was trying to escape, without putting in too much effort, my skin getting hotter and hotter, my cunt throbbing from pure arousal. I arched my back to rub my nipple against his open mouth, and took any excuse to lift my hips and grind my pussy against my clit through my clothes. I was panting from the effort and from something else, and Andrés pressed back against me, this time with every intention in the world, moving with a rhythm now, dry-fucking me through the fabric, never taking his eyes off my bare tit.

I felt his cock twitch inside his pants, a quick spasm, and for a moment I thought he’d come right there. I’m not sure. But I do know he stopped moving all at once and took two deep breaths, jaw clenched, before resuming the grapple with less energy.

After a while I stopped, truly exhausted, and Diego told us to separate. Andrés hesitated for a moment, not wanting to move, his cock still outlined under the gi, until I gestured for him to let me sit up. When he pulled away, I caught Diego looking at my bare tit one second too long before glancing away, pretending he hadn’t seen anything, with his own bulge showing again at the front of his black belt. Andrés didn’t even bother hiding it; he licked his lips and dropped his gaze back to my nipple. I took much longer than necessary to put everything back where it belonged, squeezing my tit with my hand as if nothing were wrong, feeling the semen—his, or maybe just sweat—moistening my navel too.

***

I stayed resting while Diego explained how to chain another technique from the previous position, one where one person ends up lying down and the other mounted over him, astride, with his hips pinning the sides. The two of them practiced it on each other for a while, and Diego made sure I understood even though I wasn’t taking part. Meanwhile, I had my hand tucked inside my sweatpants, discreetly, drying my dripping cunt a little with my own panties.

When they finished, it was my turn to get on top, with Diego lying underneath. It was obvious he wanted to avoid a repeat of what had happened earlier by giving me the dominant position, but he hadn’t counted on one detail: because of how big my chest was, he could barely see my face from below. What he could see perfectly was the bra through the fabric, already transparent with sweat, and the dark areolas showing underneath. My cunt, on top of everything, ended up right over his cock, and this time I felt it, thick and hard, pressing against my pubic bone through the gi.

I started rocking very gently, as if looking for balance, grinding my cunt slowly up and down against him. Diego closed his eyes for a second and let out a long sigh. I pushed a little harder, feeling the head of his cock mark my slit even through two layers of fabric. It was hard as stone.

—Like this… is the position okay like this? —I asked in an innocent voice, moving again.

—Yes… yes, very good —he managed to answer, his voice a little rough—. Now you just have to… keep your balance.

I leaned forward, letting my tits spill onto his face. A very low “fuck” escaped him as he turned his head to the side, my tit brushing his cheek, his mouth a centimeter from the nipple. He could have stuck out his tongue and sucked it without even moving much. He didn’t, but I felt his hot breath hitting the nipple, and that breath shot straight through me to my cunt.

With some insistence on my part, I got him to let me go underneath again. In that position, with Diego on top, the pressure of his hips pinned me to the floor, and his hard cock was buried right in my cunt through my clothes. Every movement he made, even just to explain a hold, rubbed him against my clit. I raised my arms as if to defend myself and, at the same time, squeezed my tits with them, making them stand out even more, practically offering them to his mouth.

He started showing me a lever with his arms crossed, holding the collar of my T-shirt gently to show me the motion. As he moved, my tits overflowed again and the backs of his hands ended up rubbing against them. He didn’t pull away. Little by little he rotated his wrist until his palm was against my skin, and without quite grabbing me, he brushed my nipple with his thumb. A faint moan slipped out of me. He heard it and his breathing caught for a second.

He did it again, this time pressing a little harder. I spread my legs a centimeter beneath him, and his cock sank into me better. Diego lowered his face, his lips barely away from my neck, and I could feel his hot breath against my ear.

—Marina… —he whispered.

—Yes? —I answered, moving my pelvis against him.

His hands slid under my tits, slipped into the overflowing bra, and grabbed them whole, squeezing with his fingers, the nipples trapped between index and middle finger. He shoved his hips into my cunt with an unmistakable motion, twice, unable to help himself, groaning low. I felt his cock throbbing against my clit, and for a moment I thought he was going to come right there on top of the tatami.

Then he pulled back abruptly. He moved away, sat up on his haunches, ran his hands over his face and adjusted his gi in front, where the bulge was now impossible to hide. He ended the class with a trembling voice.

I wiped the sweat away, still trembling inside, my panties so soaked they clung to my cunt with every step. I slipped a finger between my thighs under my sweatpants, taking advantage of the fact that Diego had turned away, and brought the tip to my mouth. It tasted like me, like a cunt heated up for a full hour.

***

I lingered for a couple of minutes talking with Diego while Andrés changed in a hurry and left without saying goodbye to anyone—probably to finish at home what he’d left half-done. I gave Diego my number, supposedly so he could guide me on buying a gi, though both of us knew that wasn’t necessary at all. We both knew perfectly well that the next time we saw each other I’d end up with his cock inside me, and neither of us made the slightest effort to pretend otherwise.

And that’s all for now. I don’t think I’ll keep up with wrestling; too much physical effort and a lot less spice than I’d imagined, which makes sense, because Diego was clearly taking it seriously as a professional. But the feeling of exposing myself on purpose, of teasing and pretending to be innocent at the same time, of leaving two guys hard and struggling to hold back, was exactly what I was looking for. When I got home I shoved two fingers into my cunt in the elevator and came before opening the door, moaning against the mirror.

Lucía is already encouraging me to go for the next one. And honestly, if anyone has ideas that make a little sense and are very, very filthy, I’m all ears. This has only just begun.