L.A.W. - League of Anime Wrestling

There was only one time the former dancer could relax a little after a day of work, and that was by going to the gym. Clarissa wasn't so sure of her level, coming from a culture with such exotic styles, but a good friend recommended she just have a little fun to calm her cravings. So today she'd be busy practicing a little in the ring, looking to perfect her profile a bit. But before entering the ring, Clarissa posted an ad on the gym's bulletin board looking for a sparring partner. She was a little shy about asking someone directly, and she felt like everyone around her was very into their own thing.

The Brazilian ran her hands gently through her hair as she walked with a slow, deliberate pace, her hips shaking with each step and her breasts jiggling pleasantly. She climbed into the ring, lowering the bottom rope, and sat on her knees, running her hands gently over her thick, smooth thighs. Sighing a little to clear her mind while she waited for a volunteer.

Clarissa

The sound of boots tapping against the gym floor echoed softly as Blake strolled into view, a confident smirk tugging at his lips. His red trunks clung tightly to his chiseled form, sweat glistening faintly along his chest from an earlier workout. He came to a stop near the apron, his eyes trailing slowly—deliberately—up Clarissa’s form, taking in the shake of her hips and the softness of her thighs as she posed.

“Well now,”

he drawled, his voice smooth and laced with charm,

“if I knew there was a goddess waiting in the ring, I’d have skipped leg day for this.”

Blake climbed onto the apron, never taking his eyes off her as he leaned against the ropes, flexing casually.

“Saw your little note on the board. Couldn’t help but wonder what kind of ‘sparring’ you had in mind. ‘Cause if it involves getting up close and personal...”

he smirked and stepped between the ropes,

“...I think you just found your partner, babe.”

Blake

Clarissa rolled her eyes when she saw how confidently Blake approached her, her gaze fixed on the chiseled lines of his chest and the way his swimsuit hugged his hips. A slow, nervous smile spread across the Clarissa's face as she stood up, her movements fluid and unintentionally sensual.

“Um, excuse me. Where I come from, we introduce ourselves first. Maybe a ‘hello, nice to meet you’ wouldn't hurt?” Clarissa approached, swaying slightly as she moved. She crossed her fingers as she looked suspiciously at the arrogant, exhibitionist boy in front of her.

She extended a hand, her fingers running along the strings as she leaned in, her face inches from Blake's. “I'll start. Nice to meet you, my name is Clarissa Kristel, although they also call me ‘Brazilian Bombshell.’ And you are?” Clarissa said with a somewhat sarcastic tone, and a hint of distrust at the same time.

Blake chuckled, amused by her sass, his head tilting just slightly as he watched her step in close. The scent of her skin, the sway of her hips, the playful heat in her voice—it all lit a spark behind his eyes. His grin deepened as she leaned in, and when she offered her hand, he took it... but not without slowly bringing her fingers to his lips first for a cocky kiss.

“Blake,”

he said, his voice smooth like velvet and cocky like he knew she was already curious.

“Some call me ‘Pretty Boy.’ Others? Well… they’re usually too busy moaning my name to bother with nicknames.”

He didn’t break eye contact, his hand still loosely around hers.

“Brazilian Bombshell, huh?”

He gave a once-over, not subtle at all.

“Yeah… you look like trouble. My favorite kind.”

With a wink, he stepped back just enough to stretch his arms, his abs flexing as he grinned.

“So, Clarissa… how about we warm up? See if you can keep up with me before the flirting makes us both forget why we’re in the ring.”

Clarissa's eyes widened when Blake kissed her hand, feeling a tingling sensation in her chest that she quickly tried to suppress. She couldn't help but feel a little taken aback by his boldness, pulling her own hand away to shake it against her top. "Oh, I see you really like flirting. That just makes you more unbearable..." said the Brazilian, clearly disgusted by the gesture.

“Well, if you insist on sparring with me, I'll grant you that. I'm going to wipe that smile off your face.” She said defiantly, stepping back step by step to give the so-called Pretty Boy some space.

Clarissa walked to her corner, sighing a little, and shook her hair slightly as she leaned back against the ring ropes. She gently ran her hands over the ropes as she watched Blake prepare for sparring. Although Blake seemed experienced in wrestling, her skill only fueled Clarissa's desire to dominate him. “Let me know when you're ready, Pretty Boy.”

Blake smirked as he rolled his shoulders and stepped toward the center of the ring, eyes locked on Clarissa like a lion eyeing his next meal.

“Oh, I’m always ready, Bombshell,”

he teased, raising his arms into position.

“Question is… are you?”

With that, Blake lunged forward confidently, aiming to lock up with her collar-and-elbow style, eager to test just how much fire the Brazilian beauty really had.

“Oh, I'm more than ready,” said the Brazilian girl, her voice full of bravado, imitating his posture, arms locked and ready. With a sudden burst of speed, Clarissa lunged forward, zigzagging between Blake's arms, trying to catch him off guard.

She reached out her hands, clinging to his shoulders, but as she feared, the pretty boy's strength quickly overwhelmed her, causing her to let out a slight gasp. She could feel Blake's weight on her shoulders, so in order not to lose her balance, she began to zigzag from side to side while placing her hands firmly on the pretty boy's shoulder and neck. “Ah, I think I've got you right where I want you!” whispered Clarissa, her large bust swaying from side to side with each step like a pendulum, providing a mesmerizing view.

Blake grinned as Clarissa zigzagged around him, but once her hands landed on his shoulders, he planted his feet, smirking as he matched her grip with ease.

“Heh… Stronger than you look,”

he taunted, his eyes flicking downward for a brief second—just long enough to admire the sway of her breasts with no shame whatsoever.

“But you’re not gonna shake me that easy.”

With a sudden surge, Blake pushed forward, muscling her backward until her back pressed against the ropes. He leaned in just enough for their bodies to be close—tauntingly so—before pulling back with a wink and a sudden swipe with his right hand to spank the side of her tit to make them bounce wildly!

“Careful, Bombshell... you keep moving like that, and I might just let you win.”

Clarissa's eyes widened in clear offense, her face flushed with a mixture of anger and embarrassment. "Oh, come on! You're not exactly the epitome of subtlety, are you?" she responded, her voice dripping with sarcasm. When Blake's hand touched her breast, an electric shock ran through her, sending shivers down her spine.

She felt a wave of tickling; her nipples hardened beneath her bra, and she quickly hugged her chest, even more embarrassed. "Do you think this is a joke?" Clarissa was getting more and more irritated, so she wanted to knock Blake out once and for all to give him what he deserved.

She did a cartwheel before throwing a flying kick she'd learned through years of Capoeira, but if she missed, she'd be in trouble, knowing what Blake had demonstrated.

Blake’s smirk didn’t waver as Clarissa launched at him with her flashy flying kick. At the last moment, he sidestepped smoothly, letting her momentum carry her past him. Without missing a beat, he pivoted and drove his boot hard into her midsection with a sharp thud, folding her over with a gasp.

“Oops,”

he quipped, mockingly,

“Guess that one didn’t land.”

Grabbing her by the waist, Blake hooked both arms and yanked her forward, flipping her up and over into a devastating sunset flip powerbomb.

Sunset Flip Powerbomb

The impact echoed across the empty gym as Clarissa’s back slammed against the mat, her body arching from the force. Blake held the sit-out position for a heartbeat longer than necessary, letting the dominance of the moment sink in before slowly rising.

He didn’t go for a pin.

Instead, he grinned and rolled her to her feet with a shove, giving her just enough space to stagger upright. Blake then grabbed her wrist and whipped her across the ring with force. As Clarissa rebounded off the ropes, Blake dropped low and launched her skyward with a back body drop, sending her crashing hard to the mat.

Back Body Drop

With a cocky chuckle, he flexed and tapped his temple with one finger.

“Lesson one, sweetheart—don’t telegraph the legs if you can’t back it up.”