| Dec. 5th, 2006 @ 11:05 am The pains of attraction... |
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One of the greek boys called me yesterday morning and asked me to come along with him to "russian wrestling". At the off chance the he may be turned on by large grunting men in tights pulling each other to the ground and rolling on one another, I agreed.
I met him at Coxwell. It took me an HOUR on the subway get there. It only takes me 20 minutes to get to work from home and people tell me that I live in Alberta (haha Jayce :-p~~~~). It's worth it though, I'm going on somewhat of a date with the greek boy right?
We greeted each other, gave some warm hugs and we were on our way. He asked me if I had brought a change of clothes. Please take some time to picture the first signs of panic flash across my face. "Ummm well I have my gym clothes from earlier today, they are used and a little sweaty but I'm sure they are fine.". Greek boy," Good cause you are gonna get pretty sweaty, this is a really hard workout and it gets really intense during the sparing....". My cute greek boy continued on after that but I couldn't really get past the whole sparing thing. OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD. I could feel my stomach start to turn, my heart rate started to rise. I DON'T FIGHT, I don't and now I'm heading to an event with my Greek boy that was termed russian wrestling when he woke me up at 9:00am to ask me to go. It is now termed Russian Martial Arts, and it's a WORKOUT with sparing drills.
Cut to workout, just after the "warm up" which included push ups to the count of 20 (that's slow counting to 20 on the way down and slow count to 20 on the way up!). Running in circles around the cold classroom, squats to the same count, over and over and over again until I thought I was going to throw up.
We started by pairing up with another person in the class to do grapple/throw drills. I'm paired up with one of the instructors who just happens to be very hot, blond and built like a brick shit house. He's very soft spoken and extremely good at making me feel comfortable with my situation. MMM I can get used to this, blondey is showing me how to block an attack to the waist and throat. Repeatedly he does a "slow charge" to my waist and neck. I throw him around a bit playfully trying to hide my excitment when I grab his waist or he thrusts his weight against as I take him to the ground. I begin thinking that I should see if they have a branch of this in Cape breton, this is awesome! The main instructor at the front of the room then tells us to switch. I now have to pretend to be grappling "Royal" (blond guys name), while he counters and puts me down mmmmmmm. Royal says that I can be faster with him. HEHEHE Ok. My first attack is centered around his rock solid mid section of course. I charge at him excited about being able to touch this guy over and over again and no one else is the wiser....... WOOOOOSSSSHHHHH.........., I'm now on the ground, my arm is twisted around my back, I'm actually in pain, yes my gay friends PAIN, lots of it. I yelp out, and Royal asks me if I'm O.k. . Oh yeah, just a little surprised by that one I say. My ego a little bruised, my arm a little out of socket. I now, a little more cautiously, (and possibly a bit more turned on) head for him again. I'm not quite sure what direction he flung me in this time, I know I saw lights, then blue (which I surmised later with Greek boy must have been the mat as I was flipping through the air, NOT in fact me passing out), then a slight bit of weightlessness and BOOOM, on the mat I end up, out of breath, a little in shock, and a lot less turned on......
Next drill everyone pairs up into three's. One person hold anothers arm trying to tug him or her in different directions while the third person is standing as close as possible to that person that is being tugged around. The person being tugged around is punching the person standing close to them. Huh? You want me to stand there and let him punch me? I'm sorry this isn't really computing. So we begin. "I'll go easy on you", says Royal, who just happens to be the guy that's going to be punching me. Sure, I do believe you made me feel good and comfortable last drill before you sent me careening through the air into a near death experience. The punches start to fly, all the while I'm resisting every gay fiber in my body that is screeching, telling me to hit, slap, pull hair and kick until this guy stops punching me. First the stomach, repeatedly. Then the chest, over and over again. Finally the sides and ribs. The last few punches certainly left bruises. I'm in my own little miserable world now, just waiting for this to end, and also thinking about how the bruises may look a little hot, or sketchy, jury is still out on that one.
After three more drills of abuse and nauseating exertion, I started to realize that I really hadn't noticed my greek boy since the warm up. Finally when the instructor tells us to cool down I search him out. G.B. looks at me with a little bit of concern, "Are you O.k.?". I'm standing in front of him trying to catch my breath, I'm absolutely soaked, my shirt is clinging to me, even my pants are a bit wet, I need to lay down, NOW.
AAAAHHHHH the stretch. So great to stretch after a workout like this. My breathing becomes a little steadier, I don't feel as though I'm going to die now. I actually feel pretty good. I'm sore, really sore. But I feel exhilarated, alive! I finally notice that a lot of the people around me have the same look of relief on thier faces. It dawns on me that I just became the participant of a fitness class as opposed to an instructor. I'm now observing my instructor while stretching thinking that this must be how people considered me when I was teaching fitness and cycling classes. Minus of course the whole part where I picture myself in hot dirty sex with him, HE'S SO HOT!
I'm now on the way home with my greek boy, trying my best to exude some sort of vibe that I'm into him. He then begins talking about this guy that he's been seeing for the past week. He's really into him and they get along really well, but he's very young. He wants my opinion on dating people that are younger than I am. I very rarely date people that are younger than I am, and the one time that I did I learnt my lesson and I'm probably not going back. I put on my best poker face and told him to go for it, that he sounded very excited about this guy. He agreed saying that he hasn't met anyone in a long while that makes him feel all funny about. Yuuuupp. Oh well.
So I return home, nurse my war wounds and get ready for bed. I think I'm going to go back to my old love affair with greek food and leave the kitchen and the cooking to the greek men. |
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