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Wednesday, April 04, 2007


Dear Mistress Maeve,

Wrestle One evening, about two months into our relationship, my girlfriend seemed to be standing closer than usual as I finished undressing. Without warning, as I pulled my shirt over my head, she grabbed me about the waist, threw me on the bed and put me in a schoolgirl pin. Then she said: “Wanna wrestle?”

Since then, we haven’t gone a week without at least one wrestling match. They are great fun — no hurtful scissor holds, just good, clean, laughing fun. Sometimes we’re dressed, but we’re usually nude. Wrestling isn’t required foreplay, nor is it necessarily followed by lovemaking — but more often than not, the “winner” gets to stay on top . . .

We’re really happy with our wrestling games, but sometimes we wonder if we’re weird. We mentioned our sport to a couple of friends, and they didn’t seem to get it (one even implied that we should grow up). We’re wondering what your take is, Mistress Maeve — you of wonderful writings and incredible variations on the acts of love?

Grapplin’ Guy

Dear Grapplin’,

My take is simple — if you and your girlfriend want to play Wrestle Mania to get you in the mood before the real body slamming begins, go for it. As long as you’re not hurting each other (in a bad way), I don’t see anything wrong with your sexy scuffles. In fact, wrestling can be a great stress reliever — both for the physical exertion and for the laughter.

My only caution is this: Do not engage in raunchy wrangling as a means to smooth over a fight or if either partner has lingering negative feelings toward the other. On occasion, a friendly fight in the sheets can turn into an uncomfortable situation if one partner goes a little too Hulk Hogan, if you know what I mean.

As for your friends, they are not the referees in your wrestling ring, so don’t worry about their judgments. You and your girlfriend sound like the perfect tag team to me. If your friends continue to give you a hard time, just put them in a Full Nelson, maneuver them into a Camel Clutch, and then deliver a little Haas of Pain.

Spandex, fake tans and baby oil,

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