GERRY AND JERRY

 

 

I didn’t want to be rude to their mom but I did want to see this. I could hear them bumping and thumping and even though they were trying to muffle their grunts every so often there was a moan or a groan. Gerry had gotten a new bathing suit and I guess Jerry had made some disparaging remarks. Their mom made a gesture across her chest. Supposedly they had gone down to the activity room to ‘leg’ wrestle, but from the cries of pain---. Okay, Gerry didn’t have much in the breast department but what she lacked in breasts she made up for in curves! Her back and shoulders were broad and her waist and hips were trim. Her legs were fabulous, solid thighs with beautifully shaped calves and trim ankles. She had short blond curly kinky hair, natural, that of course she hated, and a baby doll face. Light blue eyes and a small pert mouth.

The year was ’56; TV wrestling was in its first life with stars like Verne Gagne, Gorgeous George, The Shiek, and Argentina Rocca. We had our local heroes too: Whipper Billy Watson, Yukon Eric and Lord Atholl Layton. I was eighteen at the time and in my last year of high school. Geraldine and Jerold were identical twins whose parents had the questionable wisdom to give their kids the same sounding name: Gerry and Jerry. “Call one and you get them both!” (For the purposes of this story though I’m going to call him Jack.). They had moved into the house three doors away just after the start of the school year and since we were the same age and going to the same school we became quick friends. At that time the legal drinking age in Ontario was twenty-one (can you believe it?) but my parents were British so beer was a staple. I was allowed beer at sixteen. Gerry and Jack had come from New York where the legal age was eighteen so the three of us would get together and split a six-pack. Most often we’d end up in a study session which delighted our parents, other times we’d play table tennis or chess or euchre, etc.

Gerry and her dad were the fitness nuts---their activity room boasted two regulation mats that covered the whole floor and a set of weights---barbells and dumbbells. Gerry quickly became one of the stars on the track and field team so she usually won all the ‘sports’ type contests. Jack and I played volleyball in the house league. Very ambitious. Now don’t forget this was back in the mid ‘50’s and a lot of people believed that all you had to do was look at a barbell and you immediately became muscle bound and only dumbbells pick up dumbbells!

 

When I finally walked in on them Gerry had Jack face down and in a tight full nelson and was trying to maneuver his legs into a certain position between hers. He was struggling like mad to avoid this but it was obvious she had the advantage. Gerry’s next move was difficult to describe but in essence she released the full nelson (I figured this was a mistake) dropped back and rolled and twisted. Since their legs were in a big tangle Jack had to roll with her. She kept the roll going right around till he was face down again. Her twisting gave way to momentum in another direction and she tucked herself down and was half standing when they came to a stop. I could see now that Jack’s legs were crossed and locked between Gerry’s. Very neat move! She pushed herself up to a standing position by pushing down on his legs. He stifled a moan but I could feel his pain. She ended up in a half-squat, with his legs crossed, locked under hers and bent past the point of no return. He was helpless, she had him really good! She only had to lower her weight to apply pressure. He was moaning for her to let him go.

“Say the word.” She demanded. 

In this half squat position the muscles in her legs were flexed tight and the lines and ridges were quite visible.

“Mercy….mercy…”

“Ben’s here. Say it for him. Nice and clear.”

“Ohh... mercy…” He called.

“Once more. Louder. So mom can hear.” She demanded. She was killing him.

“MERCY!”

She relaxed her hold and his limbs fell to the floor with a plop like sausages. She stood astride him and raised her arm in a victory salute. Then she looked straight at me and flexed her arm muscles. Two very neat, hard looking muscles popped up! I realized I had gotten very excited in the short time I had been watching this contest. She approached and stood right in front of me, hands on hips. 

“Like my new bathing suit?”

Did I ever! It was made of this new material called Lycra and it didn’t hide a thing.

“Yes…very nice.”

It had almost no back and the legs were cut away to her hips.

“What about my breasts?”

I could have said ‘What breasts?’ but I had just witnessed Jack get his legs broken for making some comment about her breasts (or lack thereof).

“I think you look great.”

Jack was struggling to his feet and making for the stairs.

“Yes. You said that. Now talk about my breasts.” She insisted. Boy, was she ever being forward! “He said I was flat-chested. What do you say?”

I was really on the spot, any comment I made, I knew, would get me into trouble. The best I could come up with was

“Well----more than a handful is a waste.”

Jack was on all fours trying to negotiate the stairs but he snickered at this.

“You creep!” She advanced and gave me a bellicose push. “Where do you see a handful? C’mon you little suck your next!”

She grabbed my shirt and pulled me to the center of the mats and started circling me, waiting for me to make a move. I tried to wheedle.

“Your new suit looks really good, you look great.”

That wasn’t what she wanted to hear. So, I know she can beat me at arm wrestling but I figured that if I could stay on my feet I might be able to control her with some weight and height advantage. Problem was she was much stronger than I had expected and she had me down on the mat in no time flat! She kept trying to get behind me and get me in a full nelson so she could wrap me up the same way as she did Jack. I was fairly successful at fighting her off but I was not making any progress. I was definitely on the defensive. She kept hauling me down and once she came very close to pinning me, which was unnerving. I was lucky and lunged away only to have her get me half way into a nelson! We were at an impasse. She was on top straddling my waist, holding one of my arms back and I was holding one of hers. I eased my way up using lots of brute strength and broke her grip on my wrist and pulled her back. We rolled together and then I was gasping for air! Just like that! I couldn’t believe it! As we rolled back she had forced her legs between us and encircled my chest. Sheeeit! She was maintaining enough pressure so that I was having problems taking a full breath.

“Jack compares my legs to a boa.”

I tried pushing her thigh away without success of course. Her thigh muscles were taut and had the texture of a four by four.

“How do you mean?”

“Lots of stamina and lots of patience.”

She wasn’t going to need much patience, I wasn’t going to last long.

“Did you know a boa eats her prey alive?”

“No. And so what?” I asked.

“Well first she makes them unconscious…she waits till they exhale then tightens her grip...”

Okay. Now I’m beginning to….

“…and every time they exhale she tightens more….”

....get it. I was having real problems…

“.... and more….”

 .…breathing now...

“Enough!” I gasped.

“I’m talking. ....and more….till finally they black out…”

“I quit…. I surrender...”

“...shhhh…and collapse, unconscious.”

“Mercy” I gasped.

She very slowly released her grip and pushed me away. Jeez I was nearly dead and lay gasping for breath. She didn’t give me any time to get my composure back.

“C’mon. I don’t have all day to mess around with you guys.”

I was right in trying to stay on my feet and avoid her legs and as much as I knew this she knew she had to get me down. After I struggled to my feet and we squared off again it didn’t take her any longer this time and I was soon struggling to fight her off! She was tricky too cause she would take off on one tangent, like getting me working against her arms then she would slyly bring her legs into the action. Then while I was fighting off her legs she would regroup with her arms. She was really frustrating me. I should have been able to get some advantage. After all….!  She gave me a quick shove and broke away and jumped to her feet. She was circling me as I made it to my hands and knees.

“Are you in trouble?” She taunted.

She took a wide stance right in front of me.

“I think you’re in trouble.” She added

Look at that body. Get a load of all those muscles.

“Make a wish.” She offered.

I was grateful for the few minutes reprieve to catch my breath but looking up at her like this was not improving my morale and I wished for a painless finale. She took two steps back and started her circling again while I got the rest of the way to my feet. We squared off again but this time she tripped me up by swinging her leg behind mine and shoving me down onto my rump. She was coming on stronger still! She tried a pin, worked it into a head pin with my arms trapped behind the crooks of her knees. This soon became a head scissors and I was thinking I should just give in to her since she was basically toying with me. The long-term effect of her punishment was taking its toll, I was running out of steam.  She pulled my right arm behind me and into a hammerlock, the head scissors forgotten, she forced me onto my stomach and straddled my back.

“Ow ow ow.”

She crossed the back of my neck with a forearm all the while keeping the pressure on the hammerlock! She brought her mouth close to my ear.

“You’re finished aren’t you?”

“Yes.” I admitted.

She released me, got to her feet and moved aside. I just lay there getting enough strength to move. “Oohhhh.” I moaned and rolled onto my back.

I should have known she wasn’t done with me. Once I was on my back she moved in quickly. Coming in from my right, she placed her left foot between my legs squatted down and brought my right leg up over my left knee, then with a lift she swept her right leg underneath and hooked her knee over my ankle and tucked her foot under my bum. Her left foot was under my crotch and I yelped when she applied the pressure. This hold would become the ‘Figure Four Leg Lock’ but up till this point I had never heard of it! My legs were coming apart! The pain was unbelievable! It felt like she was going to break my right shin and blow out my left knee!

“Aaaarrrggg…”

I was pretty much powerless but I flailed my arms in desperation. She relaxed the pressure a little and pushed herself up with her arms till she was half sitting. I could see her face just above the jumble of legs.

“That’s a good one, isn’t it?”

Even from here she could apply pressure easily just by straightening her legs out and I felt the pain resume in my legs.

“Yes.” I had to admit.

“Now. Tell me I have beautiful breasts.”

“You have beautiful eyes.”

 I felt her tense and the pain washed over me.

“Wwwwwhhhhoooo…”

“Okay. Let’s try that again. Tell me I have great legs.”

“You have really great legs.”

“Well, I believe you mean that and thank you. Now tell me I have beautiful breasts.”

I could feel the muscles in her legs tense in anticipation.

“You have beautiful breasts.” I relented.

“I don’t think I believe you. Elaborate.” She insisted.

Oh shit! The pain built slowly all the while I hesitated until I was moaning.

“Say the word then.” She demanded.

I couldn’t believe the pain.

“Mercy” I cried.

She added a little more pressure.

“Louder.” She urged.

There was a fireball in my knee!

“Mercy.” I cried again, much louder.

“Now, once more, really loud, so my mom can hear.”

A little more pressure still! By now the pain was excruciating.

“MERCY....MERCY.” I hollered.

I didn’t care who heard! She finally released me from her leggy torture chamber. I straightened out my legs, surprised that they would still move, then rolled onto my stomach and made it to my hands and knees. From here I struggled to a standing position and was fine as long as I had a piece of furniture or a wall nearby for support.

“Beer?” She offered.

“Oh yes. Please.”

I was thinking that she would bring one down for me, but no such luck.

“Upstairs.”

She strode off, her neat calves bunching and flexing as she climbed the stairs. Like Jack I followed her on all fours.

Her mom had to take that minute to stroll into the kitchen:

“So----who won?”

Six pairs of eyes darted back and forth, Gerry’s finally settled on me. I guess I was ‘it’.

“She did.” I reluctantly admitted.

“I thought that was you yelling for mercy.”

“Three nothing.” Gerry just had to mention.

Mom just raised her eyebrows. Needless to say I was embarrassed, but from what I could figure, mom seemed to take the fact that daughter could beat up boyfriend in stride.

 

As suddenly as they had arrived, they were gone. I tried to track her down without success. I presume they moved back to the States.

 

So---I’m still trying to track down a Gerry with a twin brother named Jerry.

 

Can anyone help?