Inori's womanhood was damp. Sophie's was dry. Inori's dark hair was in a top knot. Sophie's blonde curls were down and behind her shoulders. Inori's nipples poked through her white shirt. Sophie's nipples were soft, though still visible due to the thin fabric.
Everything about the two girls was opposite. Inori was a technical fighter. Form and strategy. Understanding catfighting less as a sport, and more of a chess match.
Sophie was...
Inori looked Sophie up and down a final time. Not to form a game plan, but to admire her opponent in the final few seconds.
Her blue eyes were wild. She leaned on the ropes as if she were agitated the fight had not started yet, and though the elixir had to be at full effect by now, she showed little sign of arousal.
In fact, her body showed no sign at all. Her only tell was the few times she ogled Inori's breasts. Admittedly, they were worth ogling.
Inori assumed that is how Sophie coped with lust's itch. By venting it into aggression. This made her strong.
But reckless.
Inori was self-aware enough to realize her personal coping.
Thought.
Outside of fighting, she loved puzzles and reading. Inside a match, analyzing her opponent down to the fiber took her mind off wanting to fuck... No.
Needing to fuck.
The two girls were opposite, Inori believed. One was tactile. Frugal with movement. A master of strategy. The other was a brawler, charging in and taking risks.
The bell rang and the two girls stepped from their corners. Each, in a thin white tshirt and bikini bottoms, agreed on a ring match.
Canvas, turnbuckles, and rope. Needless to say, ring matches allowed for more creativity.
Sophie lunged first. Inori expected it and stepped back, catching Sophie in the tail end of momentum. Both girls were similar strength, but Sophie was wilder.
Inori needed to force this as a disadvantage.
They locked hands and began pushing. Neither gave ground. Inori's nipples stiffened further from her shirt's fabric. Her bikini bottom also began to ride up her ass.
Still, it was a stalemate. Heavy breathing. Grunting. Attempts to jerk the other girl. It was a stalemate as neither girl was stronger than the other.
This would be a battle of wit vs risk, and of which girl wanted it more.
Inori took a step back. Sophie smiled and took the ground. Gradually, Inori took another, and another, step.
Sophie gladly pushed forward. Inori was close to the ropes.
Nowhere else to go.
Sophie knew Inori was strong, but deep down, not strong enough. Sophie had a reputation for being reckless, and that reputation was correct.
Too many matches, she was pinned because she was careless. And too many matches, she stood back up because that was her secret weapon.
Standing back up. Endurance. And an inhuman ability to numb lust. She reeled orgasms back and took victory from inevitable defeat. She had done it many times, and for the life of her, did not know how.
Inori's tan ass pushed into the middle rope. That was far enough. Sophie saw how close they were to the edge. In a ring match, this was dangerous. Inori flirted with danger as her back got pressed against the top rope.
In a few seconds, she would be dangling over the ropes with nowhere to go, and Sophie could have her way.
Sophie leaned in, lips first, to begin kissing Inori's neck. The asian's skin was smooth and unmarked. Sophie anticipated how soft it would feel, and how she would leave a trail up and down her chest.
Sophie was falling to the ground.
A stiff blow to her chest knocked the air out of her as she realized Inori hip tossed her. Now Sophie hung on the middle rope, rasping for breath, but that was not all. Inori grabbed her waist and in a swift motion, threw her into a pin.
Sophie's back was on the ground. Her senses gradually understood what was happening. Her body was folding until her ankles, then knees, were by her ears and...
She saw everything.
That naughty bitch.
Inori was finishing a reverse roll up. Sophie was completely exposed, and more importantly, completely immobile. She kicked and bucked but it was no use.
Inori sat on Sophie's ankles, the Asian girl's womanhood right above the blonde brawler's head, and admired.
Sophie's ass and vagina were not merely vulnerable. They were trapped, ripe for fingering and licking and scratching and...
Inori felt a jolt from the thought as she balanced her weight forward, further locking Sophie's ankles.
Sophie squirmed to no avail. A reverse roll up was a move that did not finish fights. It finished girls. Sophie could only watch, her own tits squished into her chin, as Inori's fingers inched closer.
They took an eternity, it seemed. The closer they got, the slower her tan fingers went, and the more Sophie blushed.
Radiance.
Inori gently rubbed Sophie's womanhood, her exposed gift, up and down. It was through the bottoms, but that mattered little.
Even a marathoner like Sophie had limits, and the reverse roll up ensured those limits would be found.
Sophie squirmed again. Inori budged, but rebalanced and Sophie was locked in tighter. Her ass and thighs were tense. The pin stretched her tendons until they burned.
Radiance.
Inori felt Sophie's slit through the fabric and ran two fingernails up and down them.
Fuck.
It was a chill mist running up and down her body, agonizing pleasure brushing against her most secret and forbidden nerves. The sensation sent goosebumps and a whimper Sophie could not contain.
Inori was pleased. She knew Sophie was a juggernaut. Head to head, no one could beat her. Her womanhood was a brick wall, but even a brick wall erodes from the rain.
In this pin, Inori was the rain and she could take her time. Extracting Sophie's nectar. Shattering her from dominatrix to shivering girl.
Inori rubbed imperceptibly harder. Sophie tensed. She had stopped moaning, but in time, that restraint would fade. Sophie's forbidden treasure was Inori's. The blonde brawler had been too confident and this was the price.
Unconditional surrender.
Mercilessly dragging Sophie to the edge of climax. Holding her there. Then dropping her like a plaything.
Sophie knew this too. It was not the elementary fingering from Inori that sent goosebumps. It was the complete entrapment. If Sophie was not so thoroughly pinned, she would scream in anger. The anger of being fucked not by the stronger or more enduring or sexier girl, but by a girl who laid a simplistic trap.
Sophie bucked again. No use. Her feet, which were well behind her head, were all that could move. They squirmed pathetically.
Inori's fingers pressed harder. They indented Sophie's soft areas. If Sophie was any other girl, droplets of cum would be rolling down her abs. That was the beauty of the reverse roll up. Not only did it immobilize, it forced the loser to watch how they lost. Sophie could only see the ravaging Inori delivered. She could not look away, and if she did not think quick, she would face the greatest humiliation.
Cumming on her own face.
Inori relaxed. It was a calculated respite. The more she relaxed, the more weight Sophie had to fight. She felt Sophie strain under her ass, and in all honesty, it turned her on. But not enough to matter.
Inori knew there were no close fights with Sophie. Grinding. Scissoring. Grappling. Sophie's tank was too big.
Therefore, if Inori could not win the close fight, she would achieve utter devastation.
As Sophie tried to budge, and her arms flailed pointlessly, Inori knew utter devastation was inevitable.
The Asian gently slid her fingers under Sophie's bottoms. Sophie jolted, but could not move. Inori rubbed the soft skin of Sophie's forbidden area, and to Inori's pride, there was undeniable moistness.
Sophie was growing wet.
In the face of certain defeat, endurance fractures. Sophie blushed. Inori's fingers were creeping too close, exploring too far, were moments from entering.
Inori inserted one finger. She let it sit still. Then she inserted another and slowly pumped. With her thumb, she rubbed Sophie's clit in small circles.
Sophie pounded the canvas with her fists. Her legs were locked by her ears, her body was folded up. Inori was having her way without second thought.
A third finger.
The pleasure was pulsating in Sophie's southern regions. She closed her eyes and held back the cum. It swelled in her southern lips. Ready to drip down her stomach. But she held.
Wetness. Warm wetness moving in circles. A new sensation. Sophie opened her eyes to see Inori leaning forward, tongue out.
Inori sloppily ate Sophie out. This was too much. Rivulets of Sophie's nectar formed at her womanhood and painfully edged outside despite Sophie's will. Inori's tongue was relentless. Any other girl would have moaned and fallen to a lusty haze by now, but Sophie gritted her teeth. She was close to succumbing.
She would hold till the final moment.
She pounded the canvas again with her fist. She pounded again and again and let out a bloodcurdling scream. Inori hesitated.
The scream was not just anger. It was determination. It was desperate resistance. It was clinging to a journey that could not end here. It was lust and ambition. It was, also and indeed, rage.
Sophie pounded the canvas with all her might until her fist rebounded and lightly struck Inori's side. Inori ignored it and continued eating Sophie out.
Sophie refocused. Her womanhood was buckling. Her ass and thighs burned from the pin. Her feet were numb, and beyond needing to cum, she needed to move. All her weight was on her neck and it made her claustrophobic.
She swung her fist again. It stuck Inori's side.
Inori ignored it, again.
From this angle, Sophie had no torque. Any strike would be minimal at best, and Inori was rapidly building an orgasm in Sophie.
