Shante Scott Franklin

今日:1 hit、昨日:0 hit、合計:459 hit

更新： 2019/03/04 11:29:34

"I'm going to make it clear once and for all who the better woman is, by taking you hard in the ass after I win again," Michelle says.

"The hell you will, lard tub," I reply heatedly. "I'll be the one pounding that fat wobbly ass of yours."

Michelle's face contorts with anger and she suddenly lunges at me. But I'm ready for her, because I deliberately said that to provoke just such a reaction. I absorb the force of her lunge as we collide, but it still staggers me a bit as I try to lock a headlock around her neck, attempting to use her reckless force against her.

She counters my efforts, twisting out and grabbing my hands to stop me. Our hands meet and we lock fingers eagerly. It seems she is just as eager to have a test of strength as I am. Our arm and shoulder girls muscle pics flex as we raise our arms high, pressing our breasts together, but I barely feel any sexual thrill from that at the moment. I am only focused on outmuscling her right now, in front of all the cheering spectators. We move back and forth for a long while, however, neither of us able to clearly dominate, until at last with a growl of frustration we both break off the test and back off, dropping into a crouch.

We are circling each other, probing for any weak points, finding none. Slowly, she goes down almost to her knees, almost as if she were doing American collegiate wrestling of some kind where that sort of position is a valid defensive one. I stay a cautious distance away from her – from that position, a low lunge powered by her sheer size and weight could hit me hard in the abdomen and be a very effective takedown.

But it seems that's not what she has in mind. She bends down even lower, and now she props her right elbow up. She's challenging me to an arm wrestle!

"Come on!" "Wrestle!" "We want some action!" comes some disgruntled calls, which Michelle ignores, looking up at me, her eyes issuing a clear silent challenge.

I slowly get down, still wary for a sudden change in her posture that would mean a trick of some kind, and imitate her pose, slowly bringing my hand in and hooking my thumb with her. It seems she's sincere about wanting to have a strength test. Fine – I'll oblige her!

We begin to arm wrestle, holding back a little, testing each other's limits. Then she begins to ramp up her force, her arm bulging noticeably despite the flab. My much more defined arm starts peaking too as I match her muscle for muscle, until both of our arms start trembling from the strength channeled through them.

I am starting to gain an advantage, though. I can hear the crowd, some of them are chanting my name, but it sounds as if the chants for Michelle are louder and shriller. I risk a quick turn of my head to take a look. Yep, there they are – a group of rather plus-sized women, screaming at Michelle to "take the vain muscle bitch down". I wonder vaguely if they know Ryoko, and if they apply a double-standard where she's concerned.

A few more moments, and it's clear her arm is beginning to lose to mine. She grunts angrily and suddenly leans in even more at an angle, applying her body weight to turn the tide. Damn, it's working... she's pulled me the other way, and now I'm going down slowly but steadily, my bicep on fire as I strain against both her strength and her weight.

"Aaargh..." I cry out, contorting my face with effort, as I try to shift my body weight too to counter her. I do not want to lose even in this ego battle. Every symbolic victory either of us earn right now is as significant as a real advantage. Besides, the winner of this arm wrestling match actually will gain the initiative when we continue wrestling from this position.

My arm is bent now at an uncomfortable 45 degree angle, halfway down. I can see my bicep popping out like a tennis ball, and while even I have to say it's an impressive sight, I cannot sustain this for long. The bicep is such a relatively small muscle after all and I am now trying to virtually curl Michelle's upper body weight, compounded by her muscular strength. 

I refuse to give up, grimly hanging in there, continuing to flex with all my might, and somehow, I manage to stop her from gaining anymore, despite her bending almost to the mat, clearly trying to use body weight to win this one. Cries of "Cheater!" come from my supporters, and I can make out Penny and Jessie's voices among them. I try jerking against her a few times, to regain some lost ground. Surprisingly, it works – my desperate efforts actually move my arm back up a fraction of an inch.

She looks up at me, and there is a smouldering anger in her eyes. I match her glare for glare, willing myself not to give up, refusing to let my arm go down, boosting my arm strength with as much willpower as I can muster. We're both looking very strained now, and beads of sweat are starting to pop out on both our foreheads. Her breathing is getting more labored. I think I have it – it has surely been a long time since her dragon-boating days. Her cardiovascular fitness can't be very good with her physique the way it is, with how she's let herself go. I can outlast her. I have to...

The seconds go past with agonizing slowness. The burning is spreading, from my forearms and biceps, up to my shoulders. Michelle is looking as if she is trying to crush a rock with her bare hands. I must be looking the same right now. Our heads move closer and closer together, until we bump foreheads. Now we're pressing foreheads, and I can feel her skin slick with sweat. Almost nose to nose, we can feel and smell each other's breath, as she tries with every fibre of her being to press my arm down, and I struggle with every ounce of my will to prevent that.

How can she be lasting this long? My arm feels so tired, so painful. Her stamina is better than I'd thought. Have I underestimated her? Should I start thinking about how to counter her next wrestling move, if she wins?

No! I will not lose!

I... must... not... lose!

Yes... yes...! I can finally feel it... she's starting to flag a bit... I can curl her up a bit more... I can do it... come on Katie... do it for Jessie, do it for Penny... they believe in me... pain is not real...pain is not real... I can fight through this... fight through this...

Her arm is giving out! Finally, even with her body weight, I am pulling her up! This close, I can see the frustration on her face, I can feel it emanating from her, it's in the tears starting to come out from the corners of her eyes as she strains and strains, wheezing and sucking in air in big desperate gulps through her wide open mouth. My heart pounds and my vision swims too, but I can last... I can last!

Now I have forced her over the top! I'm riding her down now... her arm is trying to put up some last bit of resistance, but I am just stronger! With authority, I slam her hand flat down on the mat!

Immediately I make my move, keeping her arm pinned there, and collar her with my left arm, acquiring an advantageous position. With her arm pinned, there is not much she can do against me. I bring pressure to bear down on her neck, forcing her to bend down, her head almost touching the mat, her legs flailing behind as she struggles to find a vertical base.

I clamber swiftly over her body, subduing her legs with mine, pressing my belly against her back, preventing her from getting upright, while my left arm snakes across her neck preparing to squeeze. I try to bring my right arm around to help apply the squeeze, but I find I have to rest it, it's too sore. Michelle is similarly affected, I think, her trembling right arm unable to bear her considerable weight, especially with me on top of her. She has to try and keep herself off the mat with her left arm, which leaves me free rein to apply a sleeper hold with my left arm alone.

If I can cut off her air supply, and tire her even more, this match is in the bag for me. I won't even have to apply any fancy holds, I just have to crush her with plain muscle girls site. Good. I would like that very much indeed.

She's trying to rise, her lower back arching, her left arm pushing her up off the mat. Damn, she is still quite strong. My left arm chokehold is clearly not having as much effect on her as I'd like, even though sleeperholds are usually extremely potent. It must be the layer of fat cushioning her neck muscle, which reduces the force I can apply to her windpipe.

She's got herself on her knees now, with me still behind her, her left arm scrabbling at mine, unable to get a good hold on it to fight out of the choke. Still letting my right arm dangle to rest the muscle, I shift a bit to gain a better position for leverage.

Suddenly her right elbow comes flashing backwards and up, driving right into my breast. I'm on the ground suddenly... my right breast hurts like hell. I'm clutching at it, crying out in pain. Through the tears in my eyes I can see Michelle slowly recovering, still bent over double on her knees, catching her breath and rubbing her neck. Holding my breast and kneading it gingerly, I try to rise before her. At least the initial shock is fading... but damn does it still hurt...

We both stagger to our feet at almost the same time. I'm just a split second too slow to react – she lunges straight at me, spearing me in the abdomen, just as I had feared she would from the beginning. With her powerful thighs pushing her off, and the sheer mass and momentum she generates with this move, it knocks the wind quite out of me. I'm flat on my back now. She has me pinned, grabbing my hands and lacing fingers with me, keeping me down. Taking advantage of my stunned state she traps my legs in a grapevine, trying to stretch them. Fortunately I am in fact much more flexible than she is, so the grapevine is not actually hurting very much, but she has me in a secure pin.

rendcimacho

コメント

投稿を違反報告 / ブロック

コメントをするにはログインが必要です : ログイン

ランキング 新着 検索

雑談 友達募集 御友達募集 ともぼ