It was warm in the locker room; there was no air conditioning, and even though it was still early in the summer, it was a hot night. We’d all changed into our wrestling gear - Tyler was wearing swim trunks, Adam had on a bright pink T-back thong that showed off more of his butt than I ever needed to see, Luis had a navy blue wrestling singlet, Malik had plain black sweatpants, and I had on basketball shorts.
I think we were all nervous - we’d been recruited by flyers in the weight room of the campus gym, so we all knew each other, which was comforting, but none of us really knew how to wrestle - we’d been given a six-week course that covered the basics, but my suspicion was that we were basically here to get tossed around and make our opponents look good, and that the promoters had hired five strong guys who’d be able to go long enough to make the matches interesting. We were getting paid enough at least - I’d worked a lot longer for a lot less - but I think I would have been reassured if we’d been able to see our opponents ahead of time; all we knew about them was their names from the booking sheet taped up in our locker room:
TYLER vs PAOLA
ADAM vs CYNDI
LUIS vs WHITNEY
MALIK vs HELEN
BLAKE vs SALLY
Under that was a forest of ?’s - the survivors from each team would be part of a tag match (unless one team was completely wiped out, I guess). There were no refs and apparently no rules for the singles matches; during the tag match at the end the only rule was a time-limit on double-teams - each fighter past the first added 30 seconds, so a team of two would have 30 seconds allowed, a team of 3 would have a minute, a team of 4 would have a minute and a half, and a team of five would have already won, I guess. Between us we’d agreed (over Adam’s objections) not to do any double-teaming during the singles matches - some of us were hoping to get re-hired and didn’t want to take any chance angering the promoter breaking the rules.
It was time to head out to the ring. The arena was pretty small, although it looked like every seat was filled, mostly middle aged, more women than men; they gave us some polite applause as we walked down the ramp, four of us taking up positions on the apron, Tyler getting inbetween the ropes.
Our opponents were already waiting for us - a very pretty, curvy Latina MILF was standing in the middle of the ring vamping for the crowd, with her four partners mirroring our formation on the ring apron in the far corner. There was a fat white girl with fire-engine red hair down to her butt wearing a fake white fur coat, a super curvy white lady looking ready to burst out of her tiny leopard-pattern bikini, a tall, athletic, slim black woman with big implants, and a Asian cowgirl wearing an incredible, fringe and sequin covered blue and white cowboy hat, jacket, and boots over a one-piece with stockings.
The woman in the ring must have been Paola; Tyler got between the ropes to face her as the rest of us took our spots on the ring apron in the opposite corner from the women.
The first bout of the night was Tyler versus Paola. Both fighters are about 5'7", but Tyler is all lithe muscle, while his opponent Paola was a very pretty, extremely curvaceous Latina MILF. Tyler had his swim trunks on while his opponent was wearing a classic red two-piece bikini, already struggling mightily to contain her curves; I doubted her top was going to be able to stay on through any serious wrestling unless it was secured with a massive amount of double-sided tape. Tyler’s a pretty basic-looking white dude - short brown hair, a square jaw, his muscular body totally shaved. Paola was I’d guess maybe 45 years old, still very pretty with big, close-set dark eyes, a oval-shaped face and luscious lips. Her slightly curly brown hair hung down to her tan shoulders. She had a disarmingly nice smile.
The fighters met in the middle of the ring and circled warily; Tyler offered a lockup, but I don't know why he thought his opponent would go for this with his obvious strength advantage. Sure enough she darted under his hands, wrapping her arms around his midsection, lifting him off the mat with surprising strength, turning and slamming him down on his back with her on top. She tried to grapevine his legs, but Tyler threw her off quickly. They both got to their feet, circling again. Tyler's lack of training started showing as he offered another lockup for some reason.
"Fuck is he doing," Adam murmured.
"Come on, man!" Luis shouted. "Get her, man! Don't wait for her to come to you!" Tyler hesitated and looked into our corner. "No! Pay attention- ah, shit," Luis covered his face with his hands as Paola walked up to Tyler and kneed him hard in the stomach. Tyler's got strong abs, but he wasn't prepared for the hit, and bent over with a gasp. Paola linked her hands together and slammed them into Tyler's back, knocking him down to all fours; she stepped forward and got a standing head-scissors on Tyler, blowing kisses into our corner as our teammate moaned and pulled on her legs. This should have been easy to escape, but I realized as I looked at the older woman squeezing my teammates head that her thighs were oiled, and he was having trouble getting a solid grip to force his way out.
“Push, don’t pull!” I yelled. “Get your hands in there!” To my immense relief Tyler followed my advice, putting his hands together and inserting them between his opponent’s legs and then pushing them apart; this worked better and he was able to free himself, although as he flopped to the mat I could see that his face was beet red.
"Look! Paola hooted. "He's blushing! You want to get back between my thighs, little boy?" Tyler turned even redder, his opponent graciously allowing him to get up to his feet.
"You got this, man!" Luis yelled from our corner, trying to calm Tyler down. Luis started clapping and I joined in; I'm not sure how much good this did as Tyler closed with his opponent and she easily faked him out by going left, then darting around to his right when he tried to grab her. She got behind him and trapped his left arm in a hammerlock, making him yelp and bend over in an attempt to alleviate the torquing pressure on his arm. Paola pulled him back vertical, then used her free hand to push him down to his knees, standing behind him; with him in position she leaned down and reached around his body, into his trunks, laughing as her team cheered her on. I could tell from the corner that she was stroking his dick, and Tyler seemed paralyzed, his face going from shock to slack with pleasure.
“Look out, man!” Luis screamed. “Get out of there, man! You don’t wanna let her do that to you!” Tyler’s only response was to lean back against his opponent with a moan, the back of his head resting against her tits.
I covered my ears as Adam shrieked “Tyler!!!” loud enough to wake the dead. This finally seemed to snap my teammate out of the haze of pleasure Paola had trapped him in, coming to with a start; he threw his free arm back, elbowing Paola in the thigh, and she winced, losing the hammerlock. Tyler reached back and snapmared her over his shoulder, and she hit the mat on her back with a grunt. He got to his feet, and I yelled for him to attack - he had the advantage for the first time in the match - but I guess this was hoping for too much as he shook his head, taking a breather and letting Paola get up. They closed and Tyler tried to grab her, but she went around to his left, hitting him with a hard side kick to the stomach. I could see him brace for the hit, and although it still looked painful, he managed to endure it without getting winded - a surprise to Paola, I think, who must’ve thought he’d be bent over from the blow; instead he lunged at her, trying to grab her. She managed to duck backwards just enough for him to miss her body, but his left hand grabbed her bikini top, and he tried to use this to pull her towards him.
Instead, it snapped - honestly, I was surprised it was still on this far into the match - leaving Paola topless and Tyler gawking at her big, bare tits. Before I could take a deep breath and yell at him not to just stand there, Paola wrapped him up in a hug, pressing her naked breasts into his chest. She tripped him down to the mat, coming down with him and landing hard on top of him; this knocked the wind out of him, and my teammate was in a bad spot as Paola grapevined his legs and pinned his wrists to the mat. Tyler tried to throw her off, without any luck, his opponent giggling as she held him down. She waited until he gave up the attempt, then lifted her upper body off him, scooting up as much as she could while keeping the grapevine locked on. This put Tyler’s face directly below her big hanging tits, and she lowered the left one over his face; it was big enough to totally cover his nose and mouth. She held him there like that for a second and then switched breasts, but before she could pancake the right one over his face he leaned up, trying to grab her nipple with his mouth.
“No, you don’t!” she barked. “Stay down, big man! I’ll knock you out with my titties right now!” With that she lowered her torso a little and started swinging her boobs back and forth, smacking them into Tyler’s face repeatedly. This looked more humiliating than debilitating, and I hoped Tyler would get a chance to recover, but after a few seconds of this his opponent leaned down, trapping Tyler in a titsmother. I could see his body flexing as he tried to get out, but Paola had all the leverage; with his legs grapevined and his wrists pinned to the mat, he couldn’t do anything but suffocate between her tits. For good measure I could see him pitching a tent through his trunks; Paola made sure to rub her crotch against his (at first I wondered how she knew he was fully erect like this without being able to see, then realized she’s probably used this move against a hundred guys; she sure had it locked on like a pro).
With a sinking heart I think we all realized this was it for Tyler; Paola had him right where she wanted him, and he wasn’t getting out of this until she released him. She kept him in the hold maybe a few minutes, and by the time she leaned up so she was sitting on his stomach, he was beyond any resistance, laying flat on his back panting, a sweaty mess. Paola swung around so she was facing his feet.
“Let’s see what we’re working with,” she purred as she stripped Tyler, slipping his suit off. He was fully erect (well, who wouldn’t be). “Ooh, is this for me?” she grabbed his hard cock and leaned down, blowing on the head. Adam was yelling at Tyler to fight back and Luis was encouraging him to get up, but I stayed quiet; I knew he was finished as Paola dipped her head down, taking his tip into her mouth.
“Your boy’s done for!” one of Paola’s teammates - the black lady; Whitney, I think? - yelled at us. “Nobody gets out of that lip-lock!” Paola slid her ruby-red lips down Tyler’s shaft slowly, clearly relishing her work, until she bottomed out, then started sliding back up just as slowly to Tyler’s credit he tried to reach up to do - actually I don’t know what; I guess it didn’t matter as she grabbed his arms, pinning his wrists to the mat again. After that Tyler lay still as she expertly sucked his cock with excruciatingly long, slow strokes, stopping every time she reached his crown; I could tell from the small motion in her cheeks that she was caressing the tip of his cock with her tongue. As she sucked his cock she started adding more techniques; sometimes she’d nibble on the head, or deepthroat him, taking his entire rod into her mouth and sucking like a vacuum. Tyler was completely under her spell, and after a few minutes of Paola’s oral attack, he gave it all up, cumming into her mouth on a downstroke, his hips bucking weakly as he climaxed. Paola finished the stroke, holding his dick between her lips as he finished.
After that I thought the match was over, but instead Paola stayed on top of Tyler, holding just the tip in her mouth for a minute or two; then she started blowing him again, her team cheering her on. This time instead of torturing him with slow, teasing motions, she started jackhammering her head up and down, fucking Tyler’s cock with her mouth. I can only credit him just having cum for him managing to hold out as long as he did, but even so less than a minute later he was cumming into his opponent’s mouth again, screaming in ecstasy as Paola pushed him over the edge, greedily sucking down his load.
She climbed off him, running her tongue around her lips and holding her hands over her head in victory, planting one foot on Tyler’s chest. She turned to us: “Come get your boy, he’s finished!”
Luis and I got between the ropes and pulled Tyler up to his feet; we had to support him on our shoulders, slowly shuffling to the back with him between us. Adam and Malik followed us.
Backstage, we got Tyler laid out across a bench. He was too tired to move, but otherwise fine; Paola had hurt his pride more than anything else. Adam was up next, but before he went back out he started harassing our fallen warrior:
"Jesus, Tyler, what the fuck was that? She just sucks your dick a little and you give up?"
"Fuck off,” Tyler panted. I'd like to see you do better."
"Yeah? You're about to. All you little pussies watch this!” He stomped out of the locker room; with one last glance at Tyler, I followed, curious to see if Adam could live up to his boasting.
The next fight was Adam versus a stacked, tanned white blonde named Cyndi, the woman in the leopard print bikini. Adam is our second-biggest fighter, but he looked a little small compared to his opponent; she only had two inches on him (5’10” to 5’8”), but where Adam’s body was slim and trim, Cyndi was incredibly curvaceous, even more than Paola; I couldn’t begin to estimate her cup size, but each one of her tits was almost as big as her head, and in back she sported a huge, round ass. Both fighters are blonde, Adam’s hair cut short like the rest of us - we were all worried about the ladies grabbing our hair - in a asymmetrical cut, shorter on the left than the right. Cyndi’s was up in two long, thick pigtails.
Adam has green eyes and somewhat small features, his mouth almost always in a sneer or a mean smile; Cyndi had deep-set blue eyes, a slightly large nose and lips with a very defined cupid’s bow (the upper lip shape - I googled it after the match after noticing how pronounced hers was). Cyndi seemed like one of the younger fighters on her team, maybe mid 30’s, so still almost double her opponent’s age. She was wearing a tiny leopard-print two-piece bikini, while Adam was sporting a no bigger hot pink T-backed thong.
Cyndi offered a handshake that Adam just started at coldly, drawing some ooooooo’s from the crowd; Cyndi dropped her hand and instead offered up a test of strength. Adam locked his hands with hers, but then immediately kicked her between the legs, drawing boos from the small crowd and angry yells from the women’s corner. Cyndi went down to her knees with a gasp, Adam smiling a nasty little smile and barking at his opponent that whores like her should be on their knees. Cyndi tried to push up, but she looked shaken from the dirty hit, and Adam drew his right leg back and smashed his knee into her face, releasing her hands at the same time, leaving the older fighter to collapse on her side, covering her nose and mouth where she’d been hit.
Thirty seconds into the match it sounded like the crowd wanted to murder Adam, who stopped to flip them off before striding over to Cyndi, kicking her onto her chest. He reached down to unhook her top, but she scurried away from him, rolling up to her feet in what looked like pure ring instinct; she still seemed a bit dazed and running on autopilot as she closed with Adam. He had his fists up like a boxer and came in throwing hard hooks at his older opponent; Cyndi took one hit into her big gut with a grunt, but paid Adam back with her own crushing right hook to his jaw, turning his head with the impact. Now it was Adam’s turn to be stunned, and Cyndi pressed the attack, kneeing him hard in the stomach and bending him over, locking her left arm around his neck. She took a few running steps backwards, pulling Adam with her, then threw herself back onto the mat, driving the top of his head into the canvas in a high-impact DDT. Adam ended up flat on his back, staring up at the lights and panting. With a woop Cyndi jumped in the air and landed ass-first on Adam, all of her weight driving the air out of him with a strangled gasp. She leaned forward and stuffed his face between her huge tits to applause and cheers from her team.
“You need to learn some manners, little boy!” Cyndi shouted. “I’m gonna -”
She never got any farther as, unlike Paola, she wasn’t holding her opponent down; Adam simply heaved Cyndi off him to his right, and she landed on her back. Both fighters got up, Adam breathing hard and looking hurt from the butt drop, Cyndi glowing and waving her young opponent on. Adam got his fists up in a boxer’s stance again; Cyndi matched him, taking his opening jab on her forearms, throwing a powerful but slow return right hook Adam weaved past. He darted forward and slammed a straight punch into Cyndi’s left breast, his fist almost disappearing into her huge tit. She screamed, covering her chest, and he bent her over with another kick between her legs, pulling her head between his thighs and slapping a standing headscissors on his opponent. His didn’t look quite as elegant as Paola’s in the debut match, but it seemed effective enough as Cyndi gripped the backs of his knees. Adam, smirking, reached down and unhooked her bikini top, then released the headscissors before Cyndi even had time to try and pull his legs apart; he went to Cyndi’s right side, wrapping the top around her neck and pulling. Cyndi, choking, tried to pull the top away, but he had it locked on tight; he used just his left hand to keep the stranglehold on, using his right hand to start landing clubbing blows on Cyndi’s shoulder, driving her down to her knees with a half dozen, then onto her chest; he sat on her back, switching back to a double-handed choke, pulling Cyndi’s top back savagely as she helplessly gagged and kicked under him. I could see the material digging into her neck as she frantically pawed at it, her eyes bugging out, then her tongue falling out of her mouth as she thrashed; her hands fell away from her neck and her eyes rolled back in her head. Adam gave the top a few more yanks before finally unhooking it. Cyndi’s neck was bright red, and from the way she lay limply on her chest drooling onto the mat, it looked like she might be completely out cold. Adam rolled her onto her back, then dropped a leg across her windpipe; Cyndi made a noise that sounded like “blegack” and came to with a gagging cough, holding her neck and gasping. Her opponent pulled her up on all fours; Adam was clearly enjoying humiliating his opponent and gave Cyndi a mean wedgie, pulling her leopard-print bottoms so far up her crack they disappeared from view between her big, round asscheeks. Adam used this grip along with grabbing one of her pigtails to make her crawl around the ring on her hands and knees.
The whole time he’d been destroying Cyndi, her partners had been yelling threats and taunts at Adam; I was ready to jump into the ring if they tried anything - not that I could blame them if they did - and they were understandably even more upset at Adam humiliating their teammate, although they all stayed on the apron.
After a minute or two of Adam dragging Cyndi around, I yelled “Finish her!” - mostly because I was afraid she was going to recover and uppercut his balls or something, but also because I was kind of hoping to keep the match friendly, and our opponents were ready to murder my teammate. When it was my turn to get into the ring, if my opponent ended up defeating me, I didn’t want her to avenge Cyndi on me. Adam, of course, made a point to keep humiliating Cyndi just long enough to flout my advice; eventually he did leave off, releasing his opponent, taking a step back, then charging forward with a punt into her stomach. His kick had so much force it flopped Cyndi over on her back, gasping and holding her tummy. I was tempted to yell “Finish her” again, but decided to just watch. Adam grabbed Cyndi’s pigtails and pulled her up to her feet, keeping her bent over, pulling her head between his legs, bending over her, locking his arms around her midsection, leaning back to a standing position and taking her with him, holding her upside down like he was about to deliver a piledriver. Instead of landing the move, Adam held her there in admittedly an impressive feat of strength, doing a 360 degree spin to show off, shouting “Yeah! Yeah!” over the boos of the women’s team. Having driven his dominance home, he finally went for the piledriver, driving Cyndi’s head hard into the mat, releasing her with the impact; she flopped over bonelessly on her chest. Adam stopped to pose, arms high in the air, then pulled off his bottoms, shaking his hard cock at Cyndi’s enraged teammates. She still hadn’t stirred as Adam pulled her up to her knees; she looked exhausted, barely able to keep her head up, let alone resist her opponent. Adam, smirking, grabbed one thick pigtail with his left hand and started slapping her face with the other, reddening her cheeks as she gasped and started sobbing. He turned to yell at us over his shoulder: "This is how you do it, pussies! Watch this!" Switching to a double-handed grip, he pulled Cyndi closer to his crotch, forcing the tip of his cock between her lips, using her pigtails like handles as he started roughly fucking her mouth. Her team jeered and taunted Adam, but they were drowned out by the crowd cheering and clapping his display of dominance. Cyndi managed to get her hands up and braced on Adam's hips, but nothing else; after a minute of pumping he reached his climax, emitting louder and louder animalistic grunts until he started spurting in his beaten opponent's mouth, howling at her to suck it all down.
Finished, he released Cyndi, roughly shoving her down to the mat, laying her out flat on her back, then straddled her head, laying his sweaty balls across her face and raising his hands over his head, counting Cyndi out, which I guess was the official finish of the match - at least nobody disputed that he’d won and tied it up 1-1 for us. We were all clapping loudly for our teammate, but as we did so Luis leaned over to me and whispered "We're never gonna hear the end of this!"
There was a short break as two of the women took Cyndi to the back. Whitney - I was right, it was the tall black lady - climbed into the ring to face Luis, and right away I could see the height mismatch - Luis is 5’6” and was at least four inches shorter than his opponent, who must’ve been at least 5’10” with long, toned legs. In fact, her whole body looked pretty ripped; she had a toned stomach, sleekly muscled limbs, and what looked like high-quality implants that were honestly just a little big for her body type. I’d guess her age at early or maybe even mid 40’s, but black don’t crack, so who knows. She had a heart-shaped face, dark eyes framed with just a touch of eyeliner, and lucious lips. Her dark hair was cut into a long-ish layered flip in the back with small, cute bangs in front. She was wearing a black bikini top and jean shorts, with a black thong visible underneath these - the thong straps were higher on her hips than the low-cut booty shorts.
Luis had on the most appropriate outfit of anyone, a navy-blue wrestling singlet - I honestly wish I’d thought of that, as it seemed like it would offer the most protection. Like the rest of us Luis is pretty built, so it looked like this was going to be strength versus speed.
Luckily it looked like there wasn’t much bad blood between the teams after what Adam had done; Whitney winked at Luis, then turned around, grabbed the top ropes and started twerking at him. After a minute of this she slapped her booty with a laugh and came out to meet Luis in the center of the ring. I don’t think any of us had realized the fight had started - there was no bell or anything - and as Whitney charged Luis barely had time to raise his hands; she lunged at him, going for a grab, but he barely managed to duck backwards, leaving Whitney to close her arms over empty air, unbalancing herself. Luis capitalized quickly, stepping forward and locking his arms around her, lifting her up and delivering a textbook suplex. Whitney hit the mat on her back with a grunt, rolling up to her feet and facing off with Luis before he could press his attack any further; unfortunately, all of our opponents seemed to have excellent ring instincts, keeping themselves guarded at all times.
Luis came at her looking to grapple, but she used her long legs to start delivering punishing kicks; the first two hit Luis in the sides, and when he tried to catch her feet she got him square on the left kneecap with the third. He froze, holding his leg, and she dropped into a crouch, sweeping his legs out from under him, dumping him on his butt; then she she leapt at him, knocking him down on his back with her on top. She tried to grapevine his legs, but I guess Luis had seen how dangerous this was and started wildly flailing. After thirty seconds or so of struggling she gave up on this, moving up to sit on his midsection, then she lifted herself a foot off him, dropping her butt down into his stomach. She repeated the move, twice, each time leaving Luis a little more stunned; after the third she must have figured he was weakened enough for the next move and scooted forward to apply a facesit.
“Ahhhhhhhh, yeah!” she crowed, rubbing her crotch all over Luis’ face. I could just imagine how uncomfortable this probably felt with her rough-textured jean shorts still on; luckily it seemed Luis wasn’t out of it yet, as he went right for an escape attempt, putting his hands under her hips and trying to force her off. Whitney grabbed his wrists and tried to stop him, but his strength won out as he managed to push his opponent up and off him. Freed, he tried to roll backwards and get to his feet, but our team’s skills are, um, less developed than our opponent’s, and he was considerably slower at this; he left Whitney plenty of time to stand up, run backwards into the ropes, bounce off, and, as Luis stood, jump and catch him in a very impressive headscissors, her momentum bringing them both back down to the mat. Luis ended up on his back, his head trapped between Whitney’s strong thighs; she was laying at a 90 degree angle to him, her feet on his right side and the rest of her on his left; she grabbed his left hand and pinned it to the mat, leaving Luis one free hand, which he used to start slapping her legs ineffectively.
“Get your hand in there!” I yelled. “Pry ‘em apart!” He did as I suggested, trying to push his hand between Whitney’s legs; Whitney for her part looked right at me with a throaty chuckle: “You’re real optimistic, kid!” I could see the muscles in her legs flexing as she squeezed and released Luis’ head; his attempt to get his hand in there had failed, and now he was just holding onto her legs as she worked the scissors. For extra embarrassment he was sporting wood, clearly visible even though his singlet. Just about the only thing going for him was that Whitney couldn’t quite reach his crotch the way they were laying, but that was cold comfort indeed. Whitney stifled a stage yawn and then pretended to fall asleep as she kept squeezing Luis’ head; I could see the energy going out of him as he went from trying to escape, to just trying to hang on, to helpless thrashing, until he lay totally still and I wondered if he was knocked out.
Eventually Whitney pretended to wake up and, mercifully, released Luis, but the damage was done; he wasn’t totally out cold, but looked at best half-awake as Whitney grabbed his ankles. For a second I thought she was going to drag him into her corner to get ganged up on by her team, but instead she started pulling him towards one of the empty corners; she spun him 180 degrees, laying him down with his head resting on the bottom turnbuckle, straddling him. She flipped her top up without removing it, freeing her huge fake tits, and started smacking his face back and forth with her boobs - at first this looked like just a humiliation move, but as I saw Luis’ head getting turned left and right with the impact, I wondered how much damage her implants were really doing. At least one part of him looked to be feeling good as Whitney reached behind her into his singlet - I could see her starting to jerk him off while taunting him: “You about finished? Yeah, just lay there. I’ll make you feel real good!”
For once none of us had anything to yell at our teammate; we all just stared into the corner, waiting to see if he was going to submit to his opponent or not. For moment it looked like he was finished as he lay back against the turnbuckle, grunting each time one of Whitney’s big tits smacked him in the face - but he was just waiting for his spot; as Whitney twisted her torso for another hit he leaned up, his lips latching onto her left nipple. Whitney froze as he started tonguing her tits. “Ah, fuck,” Whitney mumbled, seemingly paralyzed by pleasure - she must have really been feeling it as she even stopped jerking him off. Luis started feeling her other breast with his hands, teasing her hard nippple; Whitney’s teammates tried to snap her back to reality, but she closed her eyes and started moaning. Our corner came to life, clapping for our fighter, who had apparently turned the tide on his older opponent. He gently pushed her off him, taking her down on her back and laying on top of her, still sucking on her chest; he pinned her wrists to the mat, but just when I thought he was in control, Whitney snapped her long legs shut around his midsection. “Not gonna be that easy, kid,” she grunted. It looked like it still might be as she tried and failed to free her arms from Luis’ grasp; the fighters had each other trapped, and it was going to come down to a race between Whitney squeezing the fight out of Luis or him finishing her with his mouth on her tits.
Looking back I have to wonder if this was a trap Whitney set; at the time it seemed like Luis had her almost gone, but there was no way for him to get access to her pussy in this position, and with a sinking heart I watched as she annihilated him with her strong legs, squeezing the fight out of him. Luis fought until the end, but eventually he started slowing down and then went limp in her scissors, his face coming to rest between her tits. Whitney laughed, pumping her legs, keeping him there for a minute longer to make sure he was really done; then she released him and flipped her top back down, covering her spit-soaked tits to the displeasure of the audience. “Now hold on!” she yelled. “You’re gonna see something special right now! Don’t start those boos just yet!” She unzipped Luis’ singlet and stripped him naked, then rolled him onto his back; his cock was still hard and she got between his legs, fitting it between her breasts. I saw now why she’d bothered to put her bra back on like this - it kept her tits pressed together around my teammates’ shaft, adding extra power to what was frankly an already impressive titfuck. She started slow, waiting for Luis to wake up; when he did she shouted “You fell into my booby trap, sucker!” She increased the pace, making Luis moan as she slid her tits up and down his rod. “Don’t even need my hands to break you,” she taunted, using just her elbows to control her breasts. “Right? You done, kid? Yeah, I thought so! You just lay there, I’ll make you feel realllllllll good!”
Luis managed to get up on his elbows, but that was all; I saw the moment he gave up and laid back, surrendering to his opponent’s will as she laughed with delight. He didn’t last long, cumming hard, his hips bucking up as Whitney pushed him over the edge. To officially end the match she crawled on top of him, laying her cum-spattered tits over his face in the finishing touch.
Malik and I dragged Luis to the back, Adam following us and complaining the whole way up the ramp. We barely had the guy laid out on a bench before Adam started screaming at him:
"What the fuck was that?! You didn't even get her top off, bro!"
"Hey, leave him alone," I started. Adam threw his hands up in disgust and stomped off as Luis covered his face with his hands.. "Come on, you did fine." I wasn't really sure what to say to comfort him and patted him slightly awkwardly on the shoulder. "We're still getting paid, right?"
"Yeah, man. Look, you better get back out there, man. Malik's real nervous, and he needs someone to support him, right?"
“Yeah - you sure you’re alright?”
Tyler came over wearing a towel: “I’ll make sure he’s fine. Go get ‘em.”
I made it back out to the ring and took my place in our corner just before the fighters for the next match were going to be introduced. Adam shook his head at my lateness, but didn't say anything.
We were down 2-1, and frankly if I thought anyone could turn it around for us, it was our fighter in the next match; he’s the strongest and the handsomest, so maybe he could overpower or distract his opponent or something. Malik has close-cropped black hair, a square jaw, light green eyes and high cheekbones. The only thing missing was height; at 5’8” he was giving up two inches to his opponent - although she was wearing cowgirl boots while he was in bare feet. I gave her the once over: She was a early middle aged, slim Asian woman who I’m guessing was named Helen Hasegawa from the blue and white, glittery, fringe-covered jacket with HELEN HASEGAWA picked out in sequins on the back.
She had on a simple, conservatively-cut blue one-piece - what really stood out were the accessories; besides her jacket, she had a sparkly blue cowboy hat and white, bedazzled cowboy boots. She completed the look with blue eyeshadow, dark lipstick and sparkly blue nail polish. She was pretty enough, if a little plain - oval face, small mouth, long black hair just to her shoulders, cut simply from what I could see under her hat.
She took the jacket off, showing the sleek muscles in her arms; maybe Malik wouldn’t have as much of a strength advantage as I had hoped - and it looked like she was going to wrestle with the hat and boots. Malik would have to watch out for her feet if she stepped on his toes or kicked him.
It was obvious Malik was jittery; it looked like he was sweating already, he kept shifting feet, and he was clearly pitching a tent. Helen was smiling at him, and she went up to talk to him: "You nervous?" Malik nodded and she pulled him in for a hug; from where I was in our corner I could see her mouth "You should be" in his ear before breaking the hug, still smiling at him. She backed off a little bit and took up a grappling stance; Malik mirrored this and they started the match with Helen striking first, stunning Malik with a quick left to the jaw, then picking him up and throwing him down to the mat back-first in a simple if painful-looking bodyslam. She dropped an elbow into his stomach - he wasn’t braced for the hit and groaned with the impact - then pulled him up to his feet and threw him into the ropes. We’d all been trained to turn our backs to the ropes and bounce off, and as Malik did so Helen hit a huge dropkick, jumping and slamming the bottom of her boots into Malik’s face, her hat falling off as he rolled backwards and came to rest on his back, hands covering his nose and mouth.
Helen pulled a reeling Malik to his feet, getting in front of him, bracing the top of her head against the bottom of his chin, then jumped in the air and pulled him down with her, delivering a nasty jawbreaker. Malik fell backwards and landed hard on the mat, looking like he was down for the count less than a minute into the match as Helen stopped to pick up her hat and stick it back on her head.
“Hey,” I elbowed Adam. “We gotta buy him some time to recover.”
“I got it,” Adam whispered back. Then he cupped his hands to his mouth and screamed: “Hey Helen, I heard you got a slanted pussy!” I stared at him aghast as Helen whirled to look at us: “What did you just say, bucko?!” She angrily came over to our corner, admittedly giving poor Malik a chance to come to his senses.
“He said it,” Adam pointed at me.
“What?! I did not!”
“You!” Helen screamed at Adam. “You’re already in line for an ass whippin’, kid! And you -” she turned to me - “better hope I don’t catch you in that tag match, partner!” With that she turned and stomped off as Adam stage-whispered “I think you made her mad!”
At the least, Malik had gotten back to his feet by now and looked like he’d had a chance to catch his breath; Helen grabbed at him but he nimbly sidestepped, throwing an elbow into her stomach. She bent over in front of him and Malik got her in a front facelock, snapping off a beautiful DDT- he’d clearly been paying attention during our training - leaving Helen flat on her back. Her hat had come off again, and as Malik took a step back he accidently stepped on it, crushing it flat under his foot. He looked down at it like it was an alien organism, giving Helen time to catch her breath.
“Bro!” Adam screamed. “Fucking finish her!”
But it was too late - Helen was back on her feet, staring at her crushed hat, her gaze slowly moving up to her opponent. Malik held his hands up in a it-was-an-accident apology pose, which did him no good as Helen charged him with a whoop, picking him up in a bearhug and squeezing him. His arms were free, and he managed to get his hands on her shoulders, trying to break the hold; it looked like this was going to work, and Helen teased an atomic drop - I saw Malik freeze and wail “Nooooooooooo!” from our corner - but at the last second instead turned and slammed him down to the mat on his back. She stomped on his tummy a few times with her cowboy boots, then went to his side, clapped and hit a standing moonsault. She pressed her attack, Malik not resisting as she grabbed his arms and dragged him over to one of the empty corners. She gripped the top ropes to steady herself as she gave Malik some more hard stomps with her cowboy boots, stunning him long enough for her to go back to the center of the ring and pick up her smushed hat. She went back to the corner and laid it over Malik face, then hopped up onto the top turnbuckle; from there she jumped, landing boot-first on Malik’s hat-covered face in what looked like a finishing move; his body jumped with the impact, and when Helen whipped her hat off, he looked at best half-conscious, a trickle of blood oozing out of his nose, his eyes wide and glassy. Helen moved him a little, laying with his head resting on the middle turnbuckle, then retreating to the middle of the ring; she ran at her comatose opponent and jumped, impacting his face crotch-first, grabbing the top ropes and giving Malik a bronco buster to the delight of the audience. He’d gone a bit limp when Helen had stomped on his face from the top rope, but by the time she finished her bronco buster he was clearly back to full extension; when Helen got off him and stepped away from the corner I could see she was turned on too, sporting a wet spot on the crotch of her swimsuit.
It looked like she was ready to go to the finish as she ran around the ring, yelling at the crowd: “Y’all wanna see why I’m the cowgirl?!” She stopped to slap hands with her surviving teammates while the crowd whooped, then walked over to Malik - still laying in the corner - kicking off her boots, unzipping her suit and shedding it, then putting her boots back on and perching her stomped-flat hat back on her head. She yanked off Malik’s sweatpants and started blowing him, one hand working his balls. Malik groaned, but was still beyond fighting back; Helen worked his shaft for just a few seconds before changing grips, getting a double-handed hold on the base of his cock, her tongue flicking all over his head. She finished teasing him, and with a squeeze she decided he was hard enough; she released him, straddling him and grabbing the middle ropes with one hand, parting her lower lips with the other, milking the moment as she teased the crowd, rubbing Malik’s tip against her entrance. Then she sunk down on his cock, taking every inch of his black rod, moaning as she bottomed out.
“Uhhhhh, you’re big,” she moaned. “But you won’t last long with me, big man!” I pleaded with Malik to do something while Adam screamed at him to fight back, but our teammate was deaf to our shouts, laying under Helen as she worked her hips up and down, staring into his eyes. She broke down his resistance with short, fast strokes focused on his tip, occasionally mixing in longer hip movements, bottoming out on him. Malik did make one weak escape attempt, reaching up to grab Helen’s hips, but she simply took her hands off the ropes and grabbed his wrists, pinning them to the mat; after that, true to her word, he didn’t last long. I could see his legs twitching as he started cumming inside her; she rode him through his climax, then climbed off him looking like the cat who got the cream, sliding up and giving my fallen teammate a creampie. She got off on his face, gripping the middle ropes again, throwing her head back in a scream of pleasure as she climaxed.
While this had been going on Tyler and Luis had come out from the back; when Helen finally climbed off Malik, having coated his face with his own cum and her juices, she simply rolled him out of the ring, to be helped to the back. I watched him go, but just for a second; it was time for my match.
“Don’t embarrass me,” Adam hissed as I stepped between the ropes. I was worried enough about embarrassing myself.
My opponent got into the ring and I sized her up - as much as possible; from the neck down she was covered in a floor-length white fur coat. This must be Sally. She looked like she was middle-aged, with a round face, pretty grey eyes, and a slightly wide nose and mouth. She was wearing a touch of eyeliner and blush, along with bright red lipstick, almost the same color as her waist-length fire engine red hair. She met my gaze with a smile, and as if she was doing it just for me she unzipped her coat, dipping her shoulder and letting it slowly slide off, revealing what I can only describe as a boob harness, leather straps above and below her tits (with nothing inbetween, so you could see her bare, pale, saggy breasts, topped with already-hard, large pink nipples). I almost did a double-take seeing she had no bottoms on, her thick bush and big, doughy butt on free display; below that were black leather thigh-high hooker boots that her coat pooled around as she shrugged it off.
She winked at me: “You like?” She locked her eyes on the bulge in my thin basketball shorts. “Ooo, I guess you do. You know,” she started strutting over to me, “we’re gonna have to top that last performance. I’m counting on you, babe.” She put her hand on my chest. “You’re gonna have to take me to the bone zone.”
I hadn’t expected her to say something that goofy and stifled a laugh. She offered me a handshake and I accepted; there was definitely muscle under the flab in her arms as she was surprisingly strong. She took a step back to start the match, but before I could even take up my wrestling stance Adam started yelling at her over my shoulder: “Hey, hambeast! Don’t squash my partner with that big cottage-cheese ass!”
Sally stepped past me to yell back at Adam, pointing angrily: “Keep talking shit, little boy!” Adam was smirking at her, but he locked eyes with me and I figured out his plan; he wanted me to attack her from behind. For a second I considered this - it’s a bit of a dick move - and after seeing how our team had been mostly demolished, I decided I needed every edge I could get on my opponent. (And don’t go thinking Adam was doing this to be nice; his chances if it was him against four women was basically zero, and it was higher - maybe not much, but still - with me surviving to team up with him.) “After I’m done with this guy, you’re next!” Sally bellowed at my teammate. “You-” her threat became a yelp as I got behind her, linking my arms around her soft tummy and lifted her over my head, slamming her back down on her shoulders with a German suplex; I wanted to hold on, but it took more force than I anticipated to lift her, and I ended up releasing her as she hit; she rolled onto her chest, stunned.
“Get that hamplanet!” Adam shrieked. (Now he was just being a dick.) I ignored him, reaching down to grab two handfuls of Sally’s bright red hair to pull her up, making a rookie mistake - she wasn’t as stunned as I thought and nailed me with an uppercut ball slap. The shorts did nothing to protect me and I stumbled backwards holding my crotch. Sally got to her feet and came around to my side, nailing me with a kneelift into my stomach that had me gasping. She whipped me into the ropes, and I bounced off right into a monster clothesline, her forearm smashing into my jaw; I ended up flat on my back. Sally threw herself into the ropes and bounced off; I realized she was going for a splash and rolled out of the way, too late for my opponent to stop herself as she jumped and landed on her front side with a meaty splat. I got up to my feet quickly, going to Sally’s right side as she got to her knees, racking my brain for the basic offensive moves we’d been shown; I slapped on what I feel was a pretty solid armwringer, grabbing her wrist and twisting it all the way around. Sally screamed and grabbed her shoulder with her other hand, so I guess I was doing it right. Pressing my attack, I pulled her to her feet with the hold and started laying kicks into her soft tummy. She gasped or cried out with each kick, but couldn’t escape; any time she made a move I twisted her arm, and when she covered her gut with her free hand, I kicked her in the tits - this made her shriek and she moved that hand quickly, letting me go back to targeting her stomach.
Now I thought this was working pretty well - I could hear Sally moaning in pain whenever I wrenched her arm, and she was gasping and panting from my kicks - but I guess I wasn’t working quick enough for Adam as he screamed “Finish that ham galaxy!” Well. I suppose I was ready to move to another mode of attack anyway, and I gave up the armwringer, going in front of Sally, grabbing the back of her head and throwing her over my shoulder with, if I say so myself, a perfectly-executed snapmare, leaving my opponent laying flat on her back. Her big tits made an inviting target, and I ran the ropes, bouncing off and running at her, aiming for a legdrop across her chest; unfortunately Sally moved at the last moment, and I ended up landing heavily on my butt. Sally got up to her feet pretty quickly considering how badly I thought I’d just hurt her; I rolled backwards, getting to my feet as well, and we circled as I watched her hands intently, waiting to see what she’d try.
Instead of getting her hands in a guard, she cupped her tits where I’d kicked them. “Damn, kid, you play kinda rough. That’s okay,” she smiled, “I can play pretty rough too.” Oh, shit, what did that mean? Was she going to go after my balls? I thought I’d read her correctly as she darted forward, her right hand going low, but it turned out to be a feint that completely fooled me; her left fist slammed into my stomach, stunning me, and she grabbed my shoulders, pulling me towards her and down, slamming her hard kneecap into my belly button. Now I’ve got a pretty strong stomach from working out, but without my abs flexed that doesn’t do me much good, and she caught me by surprise; I ended up on my right side, holding my midsection. Sally rolled me onto my back, screamed “This is how you do it!” and landed a legdrop of her own across my neck. Her thick thigh landed right on my windpipe, leaving me struggling to breathe, unable to fight back as she pulled me up to my knees facing her. “And here’s where a man belongs!” she yelled. She drew her right hand back and gave me a tremendous slap, turning my head with the impact: “That’s for hitting my titties!” She hit me with a just as powerful backhand, turning my head the other way: “That’s for something else you did!” My cheeks were burning as I saw her draw her hand back; this one would be a punch, her fist closed. The slaps were bad enough; I really didn’t want to take that knockout punch and quickly stood, hooking my right arm through Sally’s legs and picking her up; she yelled in surprise, then screamed as I slammed her down to the mat on her back.
I grabbed her ankles, pulling her legs up and apart; I felt a little bad about what I was about to do, but she’d already said I was playing rough - might as well live up to that, I thought, lifting up my foot. Sally looked up to see what I was doing, bellowing “Don’t you dare -” which turned into a howl of agony as my foot came down and I nailed the pussy stomp. Sally covered her crotch with her hands, and I laid off. I could have tried to keep attacking her crotch, but all I had wanted to do was keep her from fighting back - it’s not like I had any particular desire to destroy her pussy or anything - so I threw her legs to the side, straddling her and dropping my weight into her tummy. Sally gasped at the impact, grabbing my hips and trying to shove me off her, but she was momentarily weakened and I had no trouble keeping my seat, grabbing her wrists and pinning them to the mat.
What now? Well, I didn’t want to release her wrists, which meant I couldn’t use my hands, but another avenue of attack suggested itself as I looked at Sally’s rock-hard nipples. I lowered my mouth to her right breast, slowly running my tongue over it, savoring her little moans. I teased her nipple with my tongue before taking it into my mouth, sucking on it gently. I moved my left ankle so it pinned her wrist to the mat so I could use my left hand, cupping and kneading her left breast. She didn’t seem to be fighting back, and I took a chance, lifting my weight off her, sliding my right leg between her thighs and pressing it against her bare pussy. I kept this up for a few minutes; Sally’s teammates were yelling at her to get me off, but she just laid there and let me work her over, at least until I released her wrist with my right hand and moved it between her legs to finish her; just before I could get a few fingers into her snatch she slammed her legs shut on my hand: “Gonna have to try harder than that, kid!” she cackled. “I’m not that easy!”
With a grunt I tried to pull my hand free, but her thick thighs were too strong; I was trapped. She sat up and grabbed my left wrist with her right hand, and suddenly I was in a bad spot. She leaned forward and kissed me, her free right hand going behind my head to make sure I couldn’t go anywhere as she forced her tongue into my mouth. As we kissed she pressed her body against mine, digging her hard nipples into my chest. Then she pushed me over, our kiss breaking as I hit the mat on my back. Without releasing my hand, she straddled me, keeping my other hand pinned to the mat.
“Looks like it’s my turn now,” she purred. “You a top or a bottom, hun?” I didn’t respond; I felt like any answer I gave would help her decide how to attack me. Shoot, looking back, I guess I should’ve lied, but that didn’t occur to me just then. “Aw, you don’t wanna tell? That’s fine; I don’t need you to say a word…” Her free hand started teasing my right nipple with her fingers. “You ever had this done to you?” I kept my mouth shut; it looked like she didn’t expect a response anyway as she rolled my nipple between her thumb and forefinger. “You like being played with like a girl?” This felt weird, and I had to bite down a yell of uncomfortable surprise as she dipped her head down took my left nipple into her mouth.
“Get off!” I grunted.
“Aw, c’mon. I’m being nice. Or do you want me to get rough?” With that she applied a vicious nipple twist. I don’t know how ladies can take this move; it felt like she was going to rip my nipple right off and I screamed, managing to free my left hand, grabbing her wrist and pulling her arm away from my chest. I didn’t even have time to sigh in relief before she punched me hard in the stomach; caught unaware I gasped, leaning forward and resting my head on her shoulder. She released my other hand - she’d been squeezing it so hard with her legs that it had gone numb - then gave me a hard shove, leaving me laying flat on my back.
“You know, kid, I think we’re gonna have a lot of fun together,” Sally told me as she stood over me. “But I think I better soften you up first. Well, maybe that’s not the right word…” she eyed my hard cock, clearly visible through my shorts, for a second before picking me up, laying me over her shoulders in a torture rack. Her left hand pulled down on my neck, but her left hand came into my bottoms, firmly gripping my hard cock: “Ahhh, I knew you liked it. You’re my little sub, aren’t you? Why don’t you just lay up there?”
For a minute I did; when she felt me not fighting back she started jerking me off, and for a woman performing this while I was laid over her shoulders who couldn’t see what she was doing, it felt great. When I decided I had to get out of there before she made me cum, she attacked with her other hand, pulling down on my neck, both choking me and stretching my back painfully. I kept trying to get off her, but it wasn’t easy; I didn’t have anything to push off of, and I ended up mostly thrashing on her back, trying to roll off to the front or behind. Before I could do so, Sally must have decided it was time to change tactics, as with a shout she fell backwards, nailing me with a powerful Samoan drop. I was left flat on my back, in shock, pain spasming up and down my back. Sally took a quick victory lap - she seemed to think I was done, and I couldn’t blame her; I was momentarily helpless, beyond putting up any resistance. She came back to where I was laying on the mat: “Aw, poor baby. Did I play a little too rough? Don’t worry, it’s all gonna be over soon!” I expected her to pick me up and readied myself to go for a uppercut between her legs, but instead she went to my side and gave me a splash, all of her weight impacting me as her stomach slammed into mine. She rolled off me as I heard Adam screaming at me to get up (as if it hadn’t occurred to me or something). Amazingly, I was still hard after the punishment Sally had just put me through; she yanked off my shorts, the crowd applauding - nice to have some fans out there, I guess - then she sat down on my legs, facing my head. Seeing what she was doing I tried to sit up and push her off, but she was too quick (or I was too slow; I was still pretty hurt) and I found myself laying back on the mat with a moan as she took my cock into her mouth. I looked down at her and our eyes met as she started bobbing her head up and down my shaft. Adam was screaming something I don’t remember; I finally understood how all the advice and pleading I’d screamed at my teammates hadn’t registered.
I still had some fight left in me and lifted my hands to push on Sally’s shoulders, but without missing a beat she grabbed my wrists, pinning them back down. By now I knew that Paola was the fellatrix expert on her team, but Sally was no slouch; I had to get out of this fast or she’d finish me quickly. I pushed up with my legs - useless; with good leverage or against one of the lighter women, I think this would have worked, but Sally was just too heavy where she was sitting. But I did manage to improve my situation - she slid down a bit, towards my knees, making sure there was no way I could lift her off me; I thought I could slide my legs from under her if she’d just ease up a little.
So I relaxed my body completely, trying to make Sally think I was about to cum - not too far from the truth as she was still applying an expert blowjob- and sure enough I felt her weight shift just a little, just enough for me to yank my legs straight up. Sally was so surprised that my dick was still in her mouth as I pulled my legs up, planted my feet on her shoulders and pushed her away. She went flying, doing two backwards somersaults before coming up to her knees. I got up to my knees as well, trying not to think about how close she’d gotten me - ten more seconds and I would have lost the whole match.
We weren’t too far away and approached on our knees; Sally clearly knew how worked up she’d gotten me: “Just making it harder on yourself,” she purred. “I’m gonna getcha sooner or later.”
“Can’t get much harder anyway,” I gasped.
“I see that.” She was practically salivating, her eyes locked on my cock. As we closed she threw a left at my head; I took a gamble that this was fakeout and her real target was my crotch, going low, rewarded as she pulled her punch and lunged at my dick. I had my hands in a perfect position to stop her, grabbing her wrists, then lowering my shoulder and pushing forward; I hit her just below her boobs, easily pushing her over onto her back, crawling on top of her. I went to hold her down, but she wasn’t trying to escape; instead she wrapped her arms around me, pulling me against her soft body. She latched her lips onto my neck and started sucking as she ground against me. When I tried to get up I found I was trapped; she was hanging off me with all her weight, and with the awkward angle I couldn’t get up. “You’re not going anywhere!” she yelled, and the next thing I knew she’d rolled over on top of me. “Stay down, boy,” she panted. I felt my cock rubbing against her pussy and panicked; I knew if she succeeded in mounting me, I was finished - heck, I might not even survive just entering her. She’d unwrapped her arms around me to go for the cowgirl, and I managed to shove her off, scrambling backwards away from her.
As we got to our feet I came to a decision: I was going to try and turn the tables on Sally. I’d gotten in a few good moves, but if I kept fighting her the way I’d been going, it was only a matter of time - and at this point probably not much time, honestly - before she’d succeed in wearing me down until she could finish me off at her leisure; despite me being 20 years younger and in much better shape, she was just too good and had too much experience. I had to swing the momentum my way and win the match with whatever I tried next, or I was out of time. Obviously the little bit of wrestling training I’d been shown was no match for her, so I’d try another approach - I was going to try the erotic tactics she’d been using on me. Now I don’t think these would match her experience either in the long term, but if I could get the jump on her… surely she wouldn’t be expecting this? I was hanging all my hopes on that slim thread.
As we closed Sally’s target seemed pretty obvious, and sure enough she lunged at my cock. I sidestepped and then darted forward, wrapping my arms around her midsection, lifting her off the mat and slamming her down on her back. She tried to grab me, but I slid down her body, going right for her pussy, gambling that she’d gotten turned on dominating me. She had - in fact she was dripping wet - and I got my face right against her crotch, pressing my tongue into her pussy. She closed her legs around my head, but it was too late to stop me from eating her out. She started squeezing, and the pressure was fierce; if she’d had a little more time she probably would have been able to knock me out with her thighs, but she was already pretty close, and before long I could feel her legs loosening as pleasure flooded her body. Then I felt her hands on the back of my head, pushing my face deeper into her crotch, and I knew I’d won; I could hear the crowd going apeshit as I finished her with my tongue, Adam screaming a wordless victory cry, Sally’s teammates yelling in frustration. She thrust her hips against my face as she reached her peak, then she went limp, her hands falling to rest at her sides.
I slowly got to my knees, raising my arms in victory; it took a minute for it to hit home that my desperate gamble had worked. I took a second to savor it, breathing heavily, grabbing my shorts where they’d fallen and using them to wipe some of Sally’s thick juices off my face. When I turned back to her I saw she was up her elbows, smiling awfully wide for a woman who’d just lost her match. “Hey, kid,” she called. “You beat me fair and square. Come get your reward.” I started heading over to her before Adam screamed “Get back here, idiot!”
With a sinking heart I realized he was right; the big match would be starting as soon as my singles match with Sally was over, and I should hold off and stay fresh. I turned away from Sally and stood up, but only made it a few steps before she tackled me from behind, taking me down to the mat. She rolled me over and before I could try to push her off she lowered her tits to my face. For good measure she pinned my hands to the mat; she kept me there just long enough to sap my strength (not that I had much left; as soon as I’d won, all of my adrenaline had evaporated). While this was going on Adam, to his credit, got between the ropes to come to my rescue, but Sally’s three surviving teammates came out to intercept him; they didn’t attack him, but they formed a wall of female flesh he couldn’t get past as Sally released the titsmother, sliding down my body, her left hand cupping my balls and her right hand wrapping around my cock. She took just the tip between her lips and started using her hand and mouth on me together, sliding both down my shaft until the outside of her pinkie touched my hips, then back up. This time there was no escape, and in just half dozen strokes I was shooting into her mouth. It felt like she was trying to suck the cum out of my cock; she swallowed it all greedily, gently pumping my balls, before releasing me and almost tenderly helping me to my feet. She hugged me, then surprised me with a kiss on the mouth, bowing to the crowd and rolling out of the ring to head to the back. Her surviving teammates graciously allowed me to stumble back to my corner; I got out of the ring, standing on the apron, as Adam patted me on the shoulder before going to face off with our opponents in our immediately starting tag match.
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