Women’s Submission Wrestling, or WSW, was a federation dedicated to women’s sexual wrestling. It was a far cry from the ‘submissive role society...placed on women’ that she had planned to write on for her Women’s Studies course. She wondered if she could write a report on this instead. She reasoned that subject matter was far more titillating and could start a debate on whether this was progressive or regressive. It could be an in depth study with her going undercover as a sex wrestler herself. (Elizabeth suspected her reputation for enjoying Westfordshire City’s liberated nightlife played a part as well. Mrs. Marlston had never commented on any such thing, but then she rarely commented on anything with Elizabeth.) As for their three children – Joy, Thomas and Alexandria, ages six to twelve – they scarcely knew their father and had learned from a young age to endure their mother’s difficult moods. Like many children of their class, they had been forced to grow up rather before their. Somehow, we never talked about leaving, the what ifs’, the future, we just smiled, held each other, cuddled and made love. In the morning Jessica checked out early and because I had a late departure, we had my room for one more. I’d like to say that we made love, we did, but quickly, her panties hanging on her ankle, my pants around my knees, and then she left. She was gone, I felt empty, and would I ever see her again. Remember, with me, it’s Ladies choice. She has my card, I have hers and I. “Fine,” Jennifer smiled, “Then be a big boy and go to bed by yourself.”Randy huffed, but agreed. And soon, I was back in my room again playing video games. It was a little after eleven when there was a soft knock on my door.I opened it and there stood Jennifer, her breasts looking bigger than ever behind her plain, blue tee shirt.“Hey,” she said, “Not to bug you, but please be in bed when your parents come home, okay?”I smirked but nodded. Fair enough.“Don’t make me wrestle you down, too,” she.