Catch a Tiger (For Blaze)

[CyanDimitrik]

Katsumi is fully engaged when the two hit the futon, but it's Suravi using her legs that manipulates the pair to roll over. With Katsumi's arms still around the other girl's waist, she finds herself looking up at her exotic rival, but only for half a second before she feels her hips heavily ground into, eliciting a moan from the punkette. Her hips instinctively press upwards against Suravi's, the arms curled around her waist squeezing the two tighter in that belly-to-belly constriction.

Breathing more heavily already, the look Katsumi gives her is slightly dazed. "T-.. technically..," she admits. She is lying beneath her, and Suravi has her shoulders down against the 'mat' as it were. She could begin counting the pin. A part of Katsumi wants her to. The idea of wrestling like this is a thrill. A very private, very personal thrill, but a thrill nonetheless.

[BengalTheBlazeTiger]

The dazed, awe-struck look in Katsumi's eyes makes Bengal's pulse quicken. She's always wanted a woman to look at her like that, like she's the only thing in the world that matters. The pressure of Katsumi's hips locked against hers makes her bite her lower lip with primal pleasure, drawing a tiny drop of crimson blood. She runs her tongue over the wound, savoring the raw taste of iron, then thrusts down once again.

Even as she revels in Katsumi's lithe body, Bengal ponders how strange this situation is. Her position has been completely reversed with that of her former opponent. The punkette had ended their match by dominating the Tiger, demanding this POW stipulation - but now that it's been realized, she's the one ending up on the bottom. Is it all some front, or does Katsumi actually enjoy being beaten? Curious, Bengal decides to test her theory out.

"Hmm. No ref around, so I'll have to count it," she whispers into Katsumi's ear. She plants her hand, spiderlike, on the punkette's abdomen, before inching steadily upward toward her bosom. "One...Two..." Bengal whispers into the Japanese woman's ear, drawing each syllable out. She wants to see how far Katsumi will let her go. If she reaches "Three", she plans to reach her hand under Katsumi's bra - but only if the Punk Princess allows her too. After her performance tonight, she's earned that respect, at the very least.

[CyanDimitrik]

It's all quite new to Katsumi; the setup, the scintillation, the dynamic between them, none of it makes any kind of rational or logical sense to the Punk Princess. But it also doesn't matter. There's no one else here. No one to worry about looking cool for, no one to worry about being judged by. She'd already conquered the woman currently perched on her; she's hers, dammit. She was assertive enough for that. So this... this is just private between them.

Damn those hips.

"Aahnn..," groans Katsumi as Suravi grinds in again, harder. Her expression twists in agonized pleasure, her body writhing. The count starts, and her skin feels hot. First count.. the pin has started. Second count, she's in danger of being conquered right back. And- no! Katsumi grabs the wrist and bucks her hips in an effort to twist them over again on the futon, struggling to try to place Suravi on her back.

"Can't just.. let my property.. have an uprising.. can I..?," she asks between labored breaths. The look in her eyes is equal parts hungry and wild, soaking in the feel of the exotic girl; the smoothness of her skin, the tightness of her body, the feel of her hips...