Not really sure. He was always a bit reserved. I was also kind of embarrassed after the whole incident and became a bit more withdrawn about it myself. Definitely wish I had tried him a few more times before I moved out.
I always had fantasies about fighting my dad. Problem was, my dad never really fought back, always rolling his eyes or shoving off my attempts when I tried jabbing his gut. I had a thing for gut punching, and often left myself open, but he never took the bait...except once.
My dad and his friends were having a few beers in the back, around a fire when I decided to go out and join them. Me and my dad started trading jas and before I knew it I had gotten him on his back. I straddled his waist and was clumsily trying to pin his hands above his head. I remember looking down at his face and seeing how drunk he was, staring at my stomach which was right above his head (once again I had left myself open, not thinking he'd try for it). He was grinning, so I didn't think I had anything to worry about. Boy, was I wrong. One of his hands slipped out from under mine and before I knew it, he had slammed his knuckles into my over-arching belly. I hadn't prepared myself at all and the SPLAT! of the impact and the WHOOSH! of my air that followed was loud enough that I remember all his friends who were watching making an 'ooooh' sound of sympathy (along with a few chuckles). I clenched over him a moment, hunching my gut around his fist. He's a strong guy and my ass was lifted an inch or two off his waist from the impact. Finally, I rolled off him, onto my side, hugging myself. I remember hearing my dad and all his friends laughing, one of them yelling out, "must be all those beers you feed 'im, soft gut like that!" My face burned for a second, but my dad reached around my cradling arms, pressing his hand against my soft belly and rolled me over onto my back. He pinned me there, and I remember feeling all of his rough callouses against my soft skin. I hoped he hadn't noticed the tenting in my pants. But he just smiled at me and asked if I was okay. I gasped and tried to laugh, saying I was fine. Then, we got up, and drank around the campfire, some of the guys pointing out the red knuckle marks just above my belly button.
So that was pretty much it. My dad never really tried hitting me back again. While I wish I had been able to dish a little more back at my old man, it was still a moment I will never forget.
Thinking back on it, I wonder if it was the fact that I was actually shirtless that tempted him to throw that punch. As you can tell by my profile I've got a bit of a developing gut, which I definitely had back then when I was 19. Maybe the image of that was what drove him over the edge...Ah well, too late to try it out again, now.
rassler (4)
03/2/2015 15:20Nice memory, too bad you never did anything else... Why do you think your father never wanted to wrestle with you again?
hundredand (0)
03/2/2015 15:29(en respuesta a esto)
Not really sure. He was always a bit reserved. I was also kind of embarrassed after the whole incident and became a bit more withdrawn about it myself. Definitely wish I had tried him a few more times before I moved out.
hundredand (0)
02/2/2015 23:53I always had fantasies about fighting my dad. Problem was, my dad never really fought back, always rolling his eyes or shoving off my attempts when I tried jabbing his gut. I had a thing for gut punching, and often left myself open, but he never took the bait...except once.
My dad and his friends were having a few beers in the back, around a fire when I decided to go out and join them. Me and my dad started trading jas and before I knew it I had gotten him on his back. I straddled his waist and was clumsily trying to pin his hands above his head. I remember looking down at his face and seeing how drunk he was, staring at my stomach which was right above his head (once again I had left myself open, not thinking he'd try for it). He was grinning, so I didn't think I had anything to worry about. Boy, was I wrong. One of his hands slipped out from under mine and before I knew it, he had slammed his knuckles into my over-arching belly. I hadn't prepared myself at all and the SPLAT! of the impact and the WHOOSH! of my air that followed was loud enough that I remember all his friends who were watching making an 'ooooh' sound of sympathy (along with a few chuckles). I clenched over him a moment, hunching my gut around his fist. He's a strong guy and my ass was lifted an inch or two off his waist from the impact. Finally, I rolled off him, onto my side, hugging myself. I remember hearing my dad and all his friends laughing, one of them yelling out, "must be all those beers you feed 'im, soft gut like that!" My face burned for a second, but my dad reached around my cradling arms, pressing his hand against my soft belly and rolled me over onto my back. He pinned me there, and I remember feeling all of his rough callouses against my soft skin. I hoped he hadn't noticed the tenting in my pants. But he just smiled at me and asked if I was okay. I gasped and tried to laugh, saying I was fine. Then, we got up, and drank around the campfire, some of the guys pointing out the red knuckle marks just above my belly button.
So that was pretty much it. My dad never really tried hitting me back again. While I wish I had been able to dish a little more back at my old man, it was still a moment I will never forget.
hundredand (0)
03/2/2015 0:04(en respuesta a esto)
Thinking back on it, I wonder if it was the fact that I was actually shirtless that tempted him to throw that punch. As you can tell by my profile I've got a bit of a developing gut, which I definitely had back then when I was 19. Maybe the image of that was what drove him over the edge...Ah well, too late to try it out again, now.