Real Estate Games Pt. 08

3366 Grappling Gate

Two of Merryville's very few claims to fame were the Cartwright twins. Mona and Bonita -- also known as the 'Amazonian Goddesses of War'-- were professional wrestlers who possessed both the figures and talents required to attract large crowds to highly choreographed athletic events.

Yes, professional wrestling is fake. Just like a Hollywood movie or Broadway play. That doesn't mean it isn't entertaining or the actors / athletes aren't highly skilled. What gave Mona and Bonita an edge over other women wrestlers, besides the fact they were identical twins, was their ability to perform amazing feats of athleticism while making it look like a real fight. Attractive faces and amazing bodies might have added to their crowd appeal.

Their continued success required a move to Los Angeles where at least one movie contract waited. They were only in town for the day and wanted to sell their Merryville home quickly -- warning me ahead of time that another realtor and client might be there when we showed up. Not my favorite way of doing business, but I didn't want to lose the opportunity.

"Oh shit," I said as we drove up to the Cartwright house to see a white Porsche parked in the drive.

"Is that the other realtor's car?" Mark asked.

I nodded.

"Do you know who he is?

"She," I said as I nodded.

"Not one of your favorite people?"

"Perhaps my least favorite on the planet."

"This should be interesting," he said with a grin.

Cathy Raven Hardwood claimed to be one quarter Native American and had the beautiful tanned skin and silky dark hair to prove it. We had been frenemies since the third grade; competing for spots on the cheerleading squad, parts in school plays and later, for boys. The competition remained fairly friendly all through high school, but I wasn't devastated when we chose to attend different colleges.

Now, twelve years later, we were back in Merryville, still competing... for home sales and men. Which is how we went from frenemies to just plain hating each other.

The front door was open, so we walked in.

Raven, as she now preferred to be called, stood in the living room with her client... an extremely large black man who introduced himself as Lansel Norman.

"Go home Janis," Raven said as soon as she saw me. "This house has indoor plumbing which puts it way out of your league."

Mark ignored her and went up to her client. "Weren't you a defensive end for the Skins?"

"Ten years, two knee operations, and fifty pounds ago," the man mountain said with a laugh.

"It's my pleasure to meet an NFL legend." The two men shook hands, Mark pretended to grimace under the larger man's grip and they both laughed at the joke.

I introduced Mark to the owners who seemed slightly miffed that he made a fuss about the football player and didn't recognize the other stars in the room.

"And I'm Raven," my nemesis said. She took Mark's hand to her lips and kissed it. "I hope my client wasn't too rough on you."

Thankfully, Mark didn't take the bait. Instead of responding to the evil, man stealing bitch, he turned to the twins and asked for a guided tour of the house. It was nothing special, except for the full-sized wrestling ring -- complete with ropes -- in an oversized addition which took up a good bit of the back yard.

Mark was admiring a poster on the wall, advertising the twins as the headliners of a recent event in Philadelphia, when Lansel sidled up next to him. I was close enough to hear their conversation. Raven was talking to the owners on the other side of the room.

"You plan on making an offer?" Lansel asked Mark.

"Not a good one," Mark said. "Maybe twenty thou below asking."

"Yeah. That sounds about right for this place."

"You interested?" Mark asked.

"I am, but it's not worth a bidding war."

"Agree, but there's other ways to decide."

"What you got in mind?" Lansel asked.

"You ever done any wrestling?"

"You want to wrestle me for it?"

"Not me. Them." Mark pointed towards the twins.

"You think?"

"Can't hurt to ask. If they say no, there's plenty of other houses to look at."

Lansel nodded in assent as the two conniving men broke their huddle.

"Ladies," Mark said in a voice all could hear. "Mr. Norman and I have a proposal..."

Each man would spend three minutes in the ring with one of the twins. Whoever took longest to pin his female adversary would lose and withdraw from the bidding.

"What if pin your ass," one of the twins said. I couldn't tell them apart.

"I'll give you twenty thousand and let him buy your house," Lansel said.

"And if neither one of you can beat us?" the other twin asked.

"We'll let the realtors duke it out." Not sure what Mark meant by that, but it was unlikely we'd find out. Lansel had at least a hundred fifty pounds on the women and used to be a professional athlete. Once he got his hands on his opponent, she was as good as pinned. I wasn't so sure about Mark's chances and really didn't care. Losing, for once, would do him good.

Mark won the coin toss and chose to go second. While the twins went upstairs to change into proper wrestling clothes, Lansel stripped down to a white T-shirt and paisley boxers.

Mona came down first. I could tell because her name was tattooed just above her large athletic butt which was almost covered by a pair of skintight shorts. She was a big girl with large muscular thighs and well-developed arm and back muscles. Her middle was also a mass of ripped muscle. The only two areas of fat I could see were barely contained in a stretchy sports bra with large nipples trying to poke through the fabric. Her sister soon joined us and, except for the label above her butt, she looked and dressed identically.

"A few ground rules," Mark said while Bonita climbed into the ring. "No kicking, biting, scratching, or punching. Am I missing anything?"

"I won't knee you in the balls if you don't pull my hair," Mona said.

"Is kissing allowed?" Lansel asked.

"You can kiss, lick or feel whatever you can reach," his opponent said. "But no hickeys or bruises, we've got a show in two weeks."

Lansel and Bonita met in the center of the ring. He bowed. She blew him a kiss. Mona rang a bell and the first match got underway.

Lansel rushed towards his opponent like he was going to tackle a quarterback. Bonita easily danced away from his outstretched arms, sending Lansel into the ropes.

He charged again. She faked to his right and ducked under his beefy left arm.

He made another half dozen running attempts to capture the quick footed wrestler, each one with similar results to the first two.

I checked the clock. Sixty seconds of the allotted three minutes had elapsed and the wrestling match was, so far, no more than an unsuccessful game of tag. I was sure the large man could easily overpower the smaller woman, but he had to catch her first and Bonita's strategy was not to be caught.

Ten years out of the NFL, Lansel was no longer in the physical shape required to catch a pro quarter back... or a pro wrestler. He was starting to sweat. His breathing labored. He rested between charges, eating up valuable time.

Bonita, on the other hand, was just getting warmed up. Instead of skipping out of the way of his next capture attempt, she dropped down to the floor and let him clumsily fall over her. She rolled away when he threw his enormous body at her and then jumped back to her feet into a perfect cartwheel while Lansel groaned.

It took him several seconds to get back on his feet and, even then, he just stood in the middle of the ring... hands on hips, legs spread wide, breathing hard.

"Come on little lady," he gasped. "We've done enough dancing. How about we do some wrestling."

"Love too," she replied and ran straight towards him.

...which I thought was a really bad idea until, at the last moment, she dropped down into a baseball slide, right between his legs, grabbing his paisley boxers as she passed underneath. She didn't pull them completely off -- they ended up around his knees -- but before he could decide whether to pull them back up or finish the match commando, Bonita was back on her feet and charging him yet again.

Lansel put his feet and knees together to prevent a repeat game of wrestler croquet, but that wasn't her intention. This time, instead of dropping down to the floor, she jumped high in the air and planted both feet on Lansel's panting chest. She made contact parallel to the ground with her knees flexed and then pushed off with the strength of the prime athlete she was.

Lansel fell back into the ropes. Bonita performed a backflip in the opposite direction, landing on her feet in a fighter's crouch.

"Time," Mona called.

I joined Mark, Raven and even Lansel in a round of applause as Bonita bowed to the miniature crowd.

"This ain't the first time I've had my ass whipped," Lansel said after regaining his composure and underwear. "But it sure the hell is the first time by a woman... and with it hanging out for all to see."

He turned to look at Mark. "Good luck my man. If Mona's anything like her sister, you might want to quit right now."

"Hey, you didn't get pinned. I hope I can do as well." Mark spread the ropes apart to allow Mona easy entry into the ring.

Mark had already stripped down to his bright blue Jockeys when he and Mona met center ring. She extended her hand. He pulled her towards him for a lip-on-lip pre-bout kiss, which lasted much longer than I thought necessary.

Just before Bonita rang the bell signifying the start of the second act, Mark stepped out of his Jockeys and threw them towards me. All four women involuntarily sucked in a lung full of air.

"I'll fight like the ancient Greeks, if that's all right with everybody."

"You'll not get any complaints from me," Raven said and nobody else seemed to care.

Mark took two steps toward Mona. She skipped to her left, but Mark moved quickly to block her escape. She backed away and tried the other way. Mark blocked that route as well but didn't attempt to make contact. Mona backed up two more steps and found herself trapped in a corner. She rushed straight at him and grabbed his chest in a bear hug, pinning his arms against his sides. He easily broke her grip, put both hands on her waist and picked her up. She struggled while he kissed her belly button and then tossed her to the center of the ring.

"Hey, you're supposed to be wrestling out there," Bonita said from ring side.

Realizing she couldn't outrun him, Mona gingerly walked up to Mark and assumed a wrestler crouch... one hand up, the other next to her side. He mimicked her stance and they circled each other for a rotation or two.

Mark dropped to a knee and made a play for her leg. She took a step back, grabbed his upper arm and tried to swing around behind him. Mark countered with a leg whip that nearly took Mona off her feet, but she was quick enough to jump out of range.

They resumed their stances again. This time Mona played the aggressor by grabbing one of Mark's legs while simultaneously tripping him with one of her large but shapely thighs. It seemed to work. Mark tumbled to the mat with Mona on his back, but then he hooked her free arm, rolled, and reversed the situation. Mona momentarily made it to her hands and knees, but Mark again took advantage of his superior strength and soon had her flat on her back.

Just when I was sure we had won, Mark released the woman and let her get back on her feet.

What the hell is he doing?

Mark lingered on the mat for a second or two, giving Mona time to get into position so that, as soon as he stood, she jumped him from behind, forcing him back down to his knees. She wrapped her powerful legs around his waist, her arms around his chest and held on for dear life. It took him a couple of tries, but Mark eventually made it back to his feet, with the woman still attached. He spun his body violently in the clockwise direction and then, just as fiercely, stopped and reversed direction. Mona maintained her grip but found herself facing him.

All he has to do is fall forward. That will put her back flat on the mat and it will be over.

But winning didn't seem to be his prime objective. His hands started at her hips, caressed her waist and then continued upwards towards her shoulders... removing her sports bra in the process. Nipple to nipple with Mark, she was temporarily blinded and handcuffed. What used to cover her boobs was now covering her eyes... forcing her arms above her head. She pulled the bra completely off and released her leg lock, hoping she could fall away from her competitor. It would have worked if Mark didn't have a firm grip on her shorts. Instead of landing on her feet, her head went down, her legs went up and Mark pulled the skintight fabric off her ass... leaving her upside down and completely naked.

Okay. You've made your point. You're in better shape than the football player. Now pin the girl so we can buy the house and I don't have to duke it out with...

Oh, you son of a bitch. I know what you're doing.

Mona remained upside down, even when Mark released her feet. She performed a perfect handstand while Mark knelt in front of her. Mona's legs parted, Mark inserted his head into the resultant V and then straightened his legs -- all three of them -- with Mona firmly attached. What started as a wrestling match ended in a battle of tongues.

"Time," Bonita yelled.

Damn him. Damn that Mark Seiman. Because he didn't officially pin Mona to the mat, the contest between clients was a tie. And the tie breaker was a battle to the finish between realtors.

"There's no time limit for this third round," Mark announced after he finished with Mona. "The match between Miss Moorehead and Miss Hardwood continues until one of the ladies is either pinned or yields. The winning realtor gets the commission. Her client gets to purchase the house and -- as a special bonus -- thirty minutes in the ring with the losing realtor."

Mark helped me step into the ring. Due to my previous activities, I was wearing a dress with nothing beneath it. My panties and bra were still in the basement of the dairy farm. Not the ideal uniform for wrestling with an arch enemy. There was a very good possibility that Raven had something covering her boobs and ass besides the skirt and blouse we could see. And that wasn't my only concern.

During our many years of friendly and then hateful competition, I could count my victories over Raven on one hand... one finger, actually. She won every race we ever ran against each other. We were always the last two standing during a spelling bee and yet I sat before she did every time. I spent my entire teenage drama career as her understudy in school plays. In my twelve years as a Merryville real estate agent, I was a notorious second in annual sales... behind you know who.

The only time I ever beat C. Raven Hardwood was in the romance department. We both vied for the affections of Josh Brightson, the most eligible bachelor in town. Eighteen months before the wrestling match, Josh proposed to me and I happily agreed to be his bride.

Mona rang the bell, starting our grudge match and temporarily interrupting my thoughts. Bonita was our referee. The others watched like vultures from ring side.

I wasn't a complete novice when it came to wrestling. I was a cheerleader for the high school team, so I knew something about the sport. A couple of the wrestlers gave me some 'hands on instruction'. What was supposed to help me know what was happening on the mat turned out to be a convenient excuse for coping more than the occasional feel. Not that I protested.

So, when Raven and I circled each other around the ring, I didn't look like a complete priss. But neither did she. Good chance I wasn't the only one who went a few rounds with the high school grapplers.

She made the first move with a dive towards my legs. I shuffled away and pushed back against her shoulders. We both went flying backwards, landing on our butts, displaying her pink panties and my naked crotch.

"I see you're going clamando," she cooed while regaining her feet. "Do you and Mr. Seiman have plans for later this evening? Such a pity as my client is sure to wear you out after I beat your ass... yet again."

I should let him, I thought as I stood. Let Raven win. Let Lansel have his way with me. Let him buy the house. Let Mark know he doesn't always get what he wants.

Raven ran at me again. I could have easily avoided her charge. Maybe even tripped her up. But I didn't. I let her hit me head on. Shoulder in my gut. Sending me back on my ass with her on top.

She knocked the wind out of me, giving her the perfect opportunity to finish me off. I just laid there on my back, waiting for Bonita to declare Raven the winner.

"Oh no you don't." Raven said as she rolled me onto my tummy. "You are not going to take a fall. You will not lose until I decide it. That's the way it's been your entire life and we're not going to stop now."

She pulled my butt off the mat and pushed my dress up around my waist.

SMACK. She spanked my ass. Hard. Harder than my dad did when I misbehaved. Harder than Officer Flanagan when he punished me for speeding.

SMACK. The other cheek took a beating.

"Let me know when you've had enough, loser."

SMACK.

"I'm not going to pin you. I want to hear you give up."

SMACK - SMACK

"Say it. Admit I'm the better woman. Admit to everybody here that there is nothing you have that I can't take away... to include your fiancé."

She hit me again, and again, and again. When I didn't respond, she unzipped my dress and pulled it off.

"You see this Lansel? It's all yours. This ass, this pussy, these tits. They're yours. My gift to you. Do whatever you want because nobody else wants them."

She was squatting over me, daring me to fight back. I flashed back to the last time I saw her in a similar position... six months earlier.

I had just returned early from a business trip, hoping to surprise my fiancé. Raven was squatting then too. Over his naked body. His hands on her breasts. His manhood buried deep in her woman place.

"Leave her," she was telling him between thrusts. "Leave that loser and come live with me."

I remember exactly what happened six months ago; that would be forever ingrained in my mind. He broke our engagement and moved in with Raven. Two months later, she kicked him out. She didn't want him, she just wanted to humiliate me.

But what happened next on the wrestling mat is still kind of fuzzy. One minute, Raven was calling me a loser and beating my ass. The next thing I remember, she was flat on her back -- her clothes ripped off her body, my butt on her chest -- and I was using her hair to pound her head into the canvas.

"You win," Bonita was saying. "Let her up, you win."

It took both Mark and Lansel to pull me off of Raven. I tried to finish what she started when they released me, but Mark held me close.

"Not now," he whispered. "We'll get her later."

Lansel, the twins and I retreated to the living room for a bottle of wine so Mark could enjoy his prize in privacy. I won the wrestling match, so Mark got a half hour in the ring with Raven... to do whatever his little heart desired.

The living room was on the opposite side of the house from the wrestling room -- separated by three closed doors and as many walls. But we still heard them, or at least we heard Raven. Cussing at the top of her lungs... and then screaming. Possibly in pain, maybe in pleasure. It was hard to tell.

They were still going at it after the allotted thirty minutes. Lansel suggested that we check on Raven. The twins suggested Lansel accompany them to a bedroom. He followed the twins, leaving me alone in the living room.