Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
This next match was one that I actually helped set up. It was a friendly bout between myself and another one of the other women in the circuit. She was having a bit of a rough patch, so I offered, well, an easier match up. Myself. At this point, I’d actually won a few matches, so I wasn’t entirely on a losing streak.
So it was arranged. For this one I actually opted to forgo my normal spandex bottoms and sports bra top for a form fitting black leotard and knee high boots. Course despite how tight it was, after my first match I always made sure to have a pair of panties on underneath, just in case.
This was another one of those nights where I was the first and probably only event. Nothing special about tonight; typical ring set up, crowd able to move around if they wanted, but everything was near the same.
So I stood in my corner of the ring, doing a few toe touches, backbends and arm stretches. The usual limbering up and stretching out. My opponent was doing the same thing, and in a first time event, was wearing the same thing. Only difference was that hers was a dark green leotard. I adjusted my hair, pulling it back into a tight ponytail just as the bell rang.
We both moved to the center of the ring and locked to one another. For a brief moment, I thought maybe I should let her get the upper hand, and that moment she took full advantage.
She forced my head down, wrapping her arm around my neck. I felt her hand take grip of the fabric around my hip and tug it up slightly to get a better hold. Suddenly I was off my feet being flipped backwards. My back hit the mat hard, forcing me to cough as I struggled to recover. That’s when I remembered, she was much better at this than me.
The woman flipped over, driving a knee directly into my side. Pain shoots through my side and I curled up, giving my attacker time to grab and lift me by the hair. Two knotted fistfuls of red hair lifted me back to my feet. I clutched my stomach, protecting that, only to be slapped right across the face. The shock of the attack caused me to stagger, turning slightly.
The woman pressed up against me, digging a shoulder into the middle of my back. I felt her reaching a hand between my legs, gripping where my thigh met my crotch, her fingers dangerously close. The other hand wrapped again to my hips, tugging the leotard further up as the material found its way into the crack of my butt. It pushed against my panties, warning me that it was getting a little crowded between my cheeks and tight in the front.
I saw several wandering eyes go to the woman’s hand and the outline of my lower lips. All those eyes glued to my bingöl escort center, a feeling of shame and humiliation pulsed through my mind, but the thought was short lived. The woman had leverage and position on me. She heaved and my feet came off the ground again.
I rolled backwards, my arms ragdolling with my body. My shoulders and neck hit canvas, and despite the tight fitting clothing, my breasts bounced and dropped, attempting to suffocate me as well. My view shifting to the ceiling lights, stars filling my vision just as my legs came into view. They folded up over my head, spreading apart like a v and I saw how tight the leotard was fitting.
Everything was on display, the entire outline. A fresh sense of humiliation and frustration rushed through me. The worst part? The woman’s fingers teased at the very edge of the clothing, nearly slipping inside. The other worst part? The pain that resonated in my neck and shoulders. I coughed out again, my breath leaving my lungs. I was in trouble (as if I weren’t before).
My opponent kicked off her feet, gracefully keeping my legs pinned and me rolled up as she righted herself. Luckily her hands released my thigh, unlucky they both found my ass. Protected only be the thin fabric and panties, both of her hands went to work. Each connected and slapped either cheek, leaving small red handprints, and sending the skin jiggling and rippling with each blow.
I was almost in tears now, partially from the pain, but mostly from everyone watching me get spanked with my legs spread wide open. I tried to lift my arms, but the drop still had me dazed and I couldn’t. Finally though, after what felt like several minutes, my attacker relented, some.
She grabbed my by the ankles, forceful throwing my legs back to the mat. I took a breath of relief, using the moment to reach down to my ass and dislodge the cloth from the clutches of my cheeks. It was oddly satisfying pulling it free, only to have it snap back over a bright red area. It stung, but was better than having balled against my backside.
I thought maybe I could actually get to my feet on my own, but she had other ideas. A foot stomped into my gut and I curled up again. I groaned, clutching my stomach and in fashion, hands found my hair and lifted me onto shaking feet. A slap came to my chest and I moved my hands to block, receiving a kick to the midsection.
I whimpered and doubled over, I could see her boots at the edge of my vision. I felt her hands cup to my recently wedgie free behind and pull me forward. I stumbled, but she kept me upright and guided my head between her thighs. They pinched to either bitlis escort side of my ears. I wiggled, trying to free myself, by all it looked like was me pathetically shaking my ass.
Her hands traced the hem of my leotard, a single finger on each side moving upwards to my lower back. I heard the crowd cheer and remembered that I was being displayed like a prize. The fingers curled, yanking the tight material back into my butt. I whimpered out, only to have her remove it. I weakly pawed at her calves in a desperate attempt to stop that stack. She responded by thrusting the cloth once more up my backside. This one forced a louder moan, as the tight cloth rubbed against slit. Once more, she pulled free the mesh, letting it form to my abused buttocks again. I could feel she wasn’t done though.
I was on my toes now, waiting for the next one. She adjusted her grip and tugged. The cloth shot up my crack, pressing tightly and rubbing my pussy. I whimpered out and pressed against the woman, trying to push her back. To my surprise, she staggered back slightly.
What I had failed to notice due to my unprovoked sense of pleasure and arousal was that my leotard had ripped. It had torn just above my lower back and the only thing keeping it attached and not flailing about was the wedgie. My opponent hadn’t anticipated my clothing tearing like that and had stumbled back.
This was my chance, I stood back upright, reading myself, but remember when I said that she was much better at this than me? The woman had already recovered. My eyes went wide as she lunged forward, her foot connected with my chin.
The stars turned to temporary blackness as I tried to assess what had just happened. My limbs locked up and I rocked back on my heels before falling entirely back with zero grace. It was like a tree falling. I just hit the mat in a t pose. Arms to either side, legs connected at the ankles and thighs.
I stayed out for a few moments before I finally recovered enough to open my eyes. I’m not sure if it was just in time moment or not. The silhouette above me looked familiar to what I’d seen earlier with my legs above me, it wasn’t as tight or as invasive, and the leotard was green. I realized what was about to happen.
The woman lowered her hips down, her ass encompassed my face and I let out a yelp, which was muffled. She pressed down further, disregarding my protests as my hands wrapped to her thighs. She pressed until my nose was between her cheeks, the only thing stopping me from being inside completely was the smooth cloth.
I hear the crowd laugh and jeer, and thought it couldn’t get worse. Until bolu escort she started rocking her hips. The plush backside rubbed and ground along my lips and nose, all to the excitement of the laughter and cheers. I could feel the heat of her excitement with each stroke. I felt how eager and wet she was, some of it even drooling off and splattering on my chin. This was it, rock bottom. She was sitting on my face, grinding her ass as I flailed about while an entire crowd watched. It could not get worse, it could not get more humiliating. Nope.
Her hands found mine. She ripped one from her thigh and positioned it. Directly. On. Her. Crotch. With my other, that one found mine. It was at this time that I realized, the lower half of my leotard was missing, I was only in my panties, a lace thong (which was damp from my excitement earlier). Then she began to guide both hands.
My legs, despite the desire to not spread wide for the crowd, did just that. My fingers working against my will as they rubbed, slid and danced against both my own and the woman’s centers. It was a practice art, one I’d had a lot of time with, but with the woman’s guidance and well, her ass on my face provoked her to climax first.
Her hips sunk on to my head, her lower lips drooling all down my chin now, staining my chest with small dribbles. I felt her tremble and it sent a shiver down my spine. A second, exploring hand joined mine at my waist, another gripped my thighs and spread my legs further open for the crowd. Putting everything between my legs on public display.
It didn’t take much longer from there. I moaned loudly, still muffled under the woman’s ass. My toes curled inside my boots.
My thighs and panties (another ruined set) were soaked with my pleasure. The lace thong was near see thru by the time my leg stopped twitching, and finally the woman got off me. Free of her ass. I lay there, spread eagle, blotches across my chest and smears of her excitement gathered around my nose and kiss. I had no energy to move. Only one thing remained, where had the bottom of my leotard gone? That’s when I felt something wiping at my thighs and thong.
The girl was using my ripped clothing to clean myself, and then her…. Oh no. I thought as she finished, turning back to face me. Reaching down she grabbed me by the mouth, pinching my mouth open. The balled up cloth was stuffed against my tongue. The flavor of myself and her mixed together as she pushed it passed my lips. As if I couldn’t taste or smell enough of it. With one last insult to injury, she turned around, patted herself on the ass then leaned towards me. Her hand grabbed the back of my head and forced me into her crack once more.
I didn’t have the strength to flail, I just accepted the humiliation and defeat. With such little air, I whimpered softly and blacked out. Submission by way of butt… it’s not my proudest fight.
Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32