A Professional Courtesy

[BlackAkuma]

Wendy skipped over to the minibar for a quick second as Neith spoke, fixing a cup of water and downing them fast. She’d skimped a bit on the fluids today, and while that wouldn’t have been a problem with the pencil-neck she was supposed to be taking on, she got the impression that this woman would be a bit more of a challenge and get some sweat out of her. The last thing she needed was to get a cramp while they wrestled. Losing the match would be bad enough, but she could already hear the taunting.

”Honey, I don’t have only one trick,” She crumpled the cup up and tossed it into the wastebin on the other side of the room. Two points. ”I only need one trick. Big diff.”

As Neith prepared the bed, Wendy looked at the camera and strolled over to it. ”I got this.” She kneeled and worked with the setting, making sure everything was set up right. ”Been superstitious with the cameras ever since a producer forgot to press the record button for our clip. Hate wasting content like that.” Just a little idle chatter while they worked. It wasn’t everyday that she got to talk with people about her side hustle, might as well embrace the opportunity.

The angle was good, resolution was on point, and it would catch all the action so long as they didn’t get too crazy. A cameraman would’ve been best, but most guys didn’t care so long as you got the good stuff. With everything set, she hit record, made sure it was going, then slid onto the bed for the face off with an eager Neith.

”Like you’d stop me if I wanted to.” She snorted at the idea and spread her legs out, creating a strong base. ”Might even drag you in there with me, make you do the honors.”

A little something for the nerds to visualize and drive them wild.

After Neith’s corny-yet-sexy declaration, Wendy took it like a ringing bell and came rushing forward on her knees, locking up with the Egyptian and going full force from the start. As much as she liked a slow start in her ring matches, that was mostly when people had no idea what they were dealing with. This woman knew better, so she’d get the full bore - Wendy would put her to the test and shove her back as far as she could go.

[HotWheels]

Neith looked over her shoulder to see what Wendy had "gotten," noticing her hovering by the camera. The slightest growing concern that the woman would hijack (or merely smash) the camera to avoid the reveal of her ineptitude to those who would later watch the match did pop into her head, but after a moment of watching her, the Egyptian decided that Wendy did not intend to do anything so drastic. Further, it sounded as if Wendy almost made small talk. She narrowed her eyes at the other wrestler's back (perhaps more at her well-exposed butt) in scrutiny, expecting some ulterior motive behind the comment. But, no, it seemed only an offhand comment between people with similar experiences.

Neith went back to placing the markers, weighing a response. She could always weave some bragging into that response, and she did have her own experiences with unprofessional producers. "I once knocked out a British fetish model in a scissorhold in fifteen seconds in a competitive match," she began, thinking that sufficient for bragging. "The producer recorded it in sepia. In a dark room. And the model refused the rematch." As far as Neith knew, she had refused every rematch since that day.

Choosing, against her better judgment, to trust Wendy's work with the camera, Neith only waited for the inferior session girl to join her atop the bed. The exotic beauty once again let eyes flick between the woman's face and her body. No doubt Wendy had lifted a few more weights in her time. "I may have to wash you to make you presentable come morning," she bit back, regardless of her appreciation for Wendy's physique. She bent down, a touch of sensuality in her movements as the shift put her cleavage on better display. Wendy could be distracted, too. Might as well use what she had.

Wendy did want her, but not in the way Neith had intended. The American threw herself into Neith, and though Neith had locked up with men bigger than Wendy and held her ground, the woman must have truly held ill will toward her. Or, Neith had guessed right about the woman's strength. Neith met her in the middle at first, but as the seconds dragged onward, her softer frame started to give way and her face started to show strain. She collapsed back, only lifting a foot to try and push Wendy away before she could leap atop her.

[BlackAkuma]

Wendy had a quick, knowing groan at the mention of a ‘fetish model’. The downside to session wrestling getting more mainstream was all the wannabes slipping in, thinking it was just as simple as sitting on a dude’s face for an hour and making half a grand. Granted, sometimes it was that simple, but even Wendy had more pride in her work to want it that easy. As much as she wanted to wreck Neith, she’d trade her for one of those skinny bitches in a heartbeat, not second thoughts.

But enough with the chit-chat. Time for business.

Right away, before they’d even touched or exchanged a move, you could already tell the difference in the two women’s styles, just from the way they moved on the bed.

Neith was one of those girls who was all about the theater, and while Wendy didn’t care for the fantasy stuff, she could see why a guy who did would come knocking at her door, and her looks weren’t the only reason. Yes, he looked like something off a movie poster, but she moved like they were doing this for the silver screen, not for a clip that guys would be watching on their cellphones when their wives weren’t looking. Seductive, slithering sways, like she was dancing to an Arabian beat only she could hear.

Wendy could never pull that off, so she didn’t even try. If Neith was a foreign sportscar, all luxury and style, then she was a muscle car, built to rule the road. When the two met, there was only one way things could go.

They clashed and the sound of slapping flesh filled the room. Wendy let out a surprised grunt as she was met with far more friction than she’d guessed, but she gritted her teeth, ground down, and pressed forward, bringing out her raw strength and forcing the matter. It was hard, way harder than she expected, but Neith was going back, bit by bit, and the sight brought a hungry smile to her face. ”Oh, what’s wrong, girl?” She pressed their foreheads together. ”Biting off more than you can chew?”

Wendy came out on top a moment later, forcing Neith to fall back, and she was quick to pounce on her opponent with open arms. That was a mistake, as she wound up getting a foot planted in her chest for the effort, knocking her back and keeping her at a distance. But she wasn’t leaving empty handed.

”Got ya!” She wrapped an arm around Neith’s calf and jerked hard to the side, trying to flip her opponent over to her chest and expose her backside. Wendy eyed one of the markers, but didn’t go for it yet - she needed to wear this one down a little first.

[HotWheels]

Neith had mastered the art of balancing her weight on the surface of a bed. When her job amounted to presenting an insurmountable fight against men who weighed and lifted more, balance could make quite the difference when they asked for something more competitive. But balance did not benefit near as much when the other woman could overpower her and attempted to wield a great deal of jealousy in order to further her efforts. Neith, at least, chose to think of her attitude as jealousy. For all her self-righteous belief of herself as the superior session queen, she did not feel superior as Wendy forced her to finally give way.

But even as she fell onto her back atop the bed, the goddess ran her mouth. "Sounds like what I would hear in cheap porn," she observed, despite her having dropped lines equally as cheesy to meet the needs of her clients. But Neith would not acknowledge that; her focus centered on protecting herself with her foot. She successfully thrust it between Wendy's breasts and kicked back, keeping the bigger woman at bay. Gaining breathing room if nothing else, Neith pushed on her palms with plans to slide backward against the head of the bed and get back onto her butt.

Except Wendy moved first. Neith's palms slid frantically against the sheets without finding purchase as Wendy captured her calf and kept her stuck in place. She struck out with the other foot, but when she did, Wendy tried to turn her. Unfortunately, she did have some bed wrestling smarts. With her other leg up, Neith couldn't prevent herself from getting rolled over. She had forgotten how she hated being on her belly in these matches; she felt too vulnerable. "Shit," she bit, under her breath.

Again, she tried to kick at Wendy, but Neith had always been more python than butterfly or bee. That was to say, she could not strike worth a damn, and she knew it. That did not stop her from pitifully throwing a foot against Wendy's stomach, a foot that remained there in order to keep her at bay while Neith clawed at the edge of the mattress to pull herself free from the increasingly annoying American.

[BlackAkuma]

Neith’s little jab got a hearty, genuine belly laugh out of Wendy as she continued to run her rival down. ”Please, with this getup? Know you’ve said worse.” Yeah, Wendy wasn’t buying that one for a second. She might not have been as full-time as a lot of session girls, having her professional wrestling career to throw into the mix, but she’d been asked to say all kinds of stupid stuff in sessions before, and every other sessioner she came across reported the same thing. She’d seen the clips, read the scripts, knew the work. Neith couldn't fool her with that, though she got a gold star for trying.

But it was fine, let her talk all she wanted. Might as well get all the taunting out of that mouth of her before Wendy planted her ass square on it.

She felt like she was nearing that time, too. Wendy preferred wrestling on mats, but sometimes it just wasn’t happening, with a bed that was bolted to the floor or a room that was just too cramped to make it work. She could work on the mattress well enough, and this bed had more space to work with that most, so no problems, there. She was able to get a good enough base to flip Neith over, and-

Hm, her ass did look good in that outfit. Might have to make her say where she got it from, later.

That thought took her an instant, and in the next one she had a foot shooting into her stomach. Wendy was a sturdy woman,with a lot of muscle under her padding, but that hit was enough to knock some wind out of her. Neith wasn’t a striker as far as she could tell, but the woman had some strong legs.

”Ha, what was that?” All that rumbling about was making a lot of noise from the bed, but Wendy was sure she heard a curse coming from those sweet lips. She was too busy trying to keep a hold of Neith to press on it, though, as the woman fought to get free, knowing the trouble she was in.

Wendy abandoned the leg hold all at once and move over to her opponent’s side instead, moving as fast as a woman her size could hope to on her knees. She didn’t know whether Neith would be able to get to her back again or not, but she knew it was important to be all over, regardless - with that in mind, she bounced up and pounced on the woman with open arms, making a wild bid to get all over her before she could escape.

[HotWheels]

With Wendy giving voice to her own refused thoughts about the lines she had dropped mid-session, Neith felt at least half a dozen flash through her head that frustrated her more by lending truth to Wendy's words. Some "your goddess' body is your temple" crap. A few mentions of "chambers." She even remembered something involving butter once, but that was a very specific situation with a well-paying client with many needs. Said person also had not demanded that they record their session, which Neith found to be a great boon after it had ended. Regardless, she did not wish to have Wendy state any presumptions that proved accurate.

Her irritation did not add much power to her kick while she lay flat on her stomach, but she seemed to keep Wendy at bay for another couple of seconds, anyway. She wriggled and writhed, likely making a show for the woman now behind her and the camera both, as she tried to get up onto one knee and her hands. If nothing else good happened for her to start, Neith did not wish to have Wendy on her back. She knew what could happen in these small-scale matches when one woman clambered atop the other's back, since she had done so many times. Unconsciousness or bruised ribs often followed, and she had seen Wendy's legs with perhaps too interested of an eye.

But her flailing and pushing did enough to force Wendy to let her go, and Neith started to push over and turn. But Wendy ended up squarely in her way. "Tch! Move your...", she began, and she did not add "fat ass" when she bumped into the woman's thighs and realized a roll the other way would roll her right off the bed; the hesitation cost her. Wendy landed atop the middle of her back, and Neith groaned out and flailed when the weight of the other woman pressed down on the middle of her back. Still feeling like a pathetic flounder from this position, Neith could only grab at the side of the woman's panties with one hand and try to pull her off, but that would not happen.

[BlackAkuma]

It was taking some serious self control for Wendy to not burst out laughing with all of this, as she finally managed to get this formerly unflappable woman to crack her veneer, just a bit. Getting her flustered was a small victory in itself, especially given the hoity-toity, divine way she’d been acting since they first met. Neith struck her as the sort of woman who bought into her own hype a little too much - not the worst trait for a session wrestler to have, but it’d be fun to squeeze it out of her and drag her back to her level. To reality.

”-ass?” She gave Neith’s a quick slap before she hopped on top of her, wishing she’d had the time to watch it jiggle. ”That the word you were looking for, honey?”

She was on top, but staying there wasn’t easy - as much as she would’ve liked to pose and show off for the camera, Neith wasn’t some silly little session guy who’d let her go crazy. Keeping her under control was a chore while she sat up, shifting this way and that with a mix of power and desperation, and chances were good she would get out sooner or later.

Wendy wasn’t letting that happen. Not yet.

With legs tight at Neith’s side, Wendy fell forward and let her upper body come down hard on her rival’s back, making her take all the weight she had to offer above the waist. She reached back to pull away the hand that was pawing at her panties and gripped her tight by the wrist, while her other hand went north and latched onto the woman’s dark hair for a tight grip.

”Better get used to my fine ass being all over you.” She brought her lips to Neith’s ear and whispered hot words straight into it, making sure to add in some growl after every word. The ASMR stuff drove guys nuts, couldn't wait to see how it made the Egyptian squirm.

For the final touch, she thrust her hip forward and started a slow grind, stroking her lap along Neith’s backside with the sort of intimacy you’d expect from longtime lovers, and making sure the camera caught all of it. ”Yours ain’t half-bad, either, by the way.”

[HotWheels]

Neith choked down a squeal when Wendy smacked her on the ass. If looks could kill after she got over the initial shock, the one that Neith tried to throw over her shoulder at her assailant, with the chilliest cold reaching her blue eyes, Wendy's head might have rolled right off of her shoulders. She detested having people smack on her like a piece of meat; she was a goddess! The clients who dared to touch her that way got crushed, and she swore internally that Wendy would receive no lesser punishment. But first...she had to get the bitch off of her.

But she weighed quite a bit. Neith tried to just push up and roll, but with her arms far weaker than her legs, she could not seem to get anywhere. "It's a big ass," she growled, after a failed attempt, and she tightened her grip and pulling on Wendy's panties in hopes that she could dislodge the woman that way. No use, and for her efforts, Wendy laid flatter on top of her and pinned down the probing hand. Neith growled and groaned all in the same sound, and then duplicated that sound, but much louder, when Wendy pulled back on her hair. "Fuhuuck you," she disgustedly bit back. She hated being on bottom in all situations.

She hated it more with what Wendy whispered into her ear while she struggled...and then more when she felt the other session wrestler's soft lap working against her ass in a display that would have made those cheap porn actors that she mentioned blush. Neith growled again, more feral this time, and she immediately went into a frenzy with her feet scuffling wildly against the mattress in hopes she could push herself out from under Wendy. The soft thread did not allow for that, however. Neith just had to get out from under her, though, lest she look like a pathetic fool on the camera.

With a wild flail, she threw her one free arm up, hoping to catch Wendy around the head or neck with it. A pointy elbow could still hurt.

[BlackAkuma]

Neith’s attempt at an insult got another full laugh out of Wendy. Hell, she almost snorted, and wouldn’t that have been the dumbest sound to make right now. ”I’m a big woman, you ain’t noticed?” She nuzzled against the Egyptian’s cheek, getting nice and cozy. ”You lose a lot of that bite when you’re on the bottom, huh?”

Neith might not admit it, but Wendy could tell that was the case - not being in control, not dominating, getting laid on this early, it was all driving Ms. Cleopatra up the walls. She was the exact same way, to be fair, fucking hated when guys lucked up and got the better of her, but that just made putting her rival in the situation all the sweeter.

God, she hoped the camera caught that look on Neith’s face after the slap. She wanted to immortalize that, make it the thumbnail for this video when she put it on the store.

”Fuck me, huh? We ain’t getting that dirty, are we?” She gave Neith a deep lick on the ear, working it right down the middle. ”’Cause I’ve been thinking of starting an Onlyfans, and you’d be-”

Wendy’s lewd - but amazing - idea would have to wait, as Neith’s rage finally boiled over into something useful. The woman turned into a livewire, impossible to pin down, and all the squirming bore fruit when the Backstage Bully took a hard shot to the neck. She cried out and fell to his side, gasping and grasping the spot of impact. No serious damage done, but that one had caught her off guard and it showed. Most guys didn’t throw strikes her way during these sessions. Most didn’t have the balls to even try.

Knowing she was in a bad spot, she tried to scoot away from Neith and rolled to her knees while had a coughing fit, hoping to make some distance before the feisty femme fatale could press her advantage.

[HotWheels]

Oh, Neith had her bite. She would have bitten Wendy right in the cheek if the bitch's grip on her hair would have allowed her to turn far enough to do it. But the point was made, and Neith hated the lack of control she felt while Wendy held her down. Her whole reasoning for becoming addicted to this line of work centered on the pleasure of enjoying the control and adoration of others. Getting controlled at best worked her into a heated frenzy to escape and return to her rightful place in a dominant position. The "goddess" name probably betrayed her tendencies.

Ugh, and those teasing comments. If Neith could have visibly boiled, her skin would have started trembling at the snide comment about fucking while the other woman performed the next closest act against her ass. She might have thought highly of Wendy's hips, but they needed to be doing far less thrusting against Neith's rear while that camera watched. "Only with a-" She might have said something painful, like the end table or a rusty shovel, had Wendy not licked her on the ear. That sent the elbow flying in a wildly aggressive attempt to deck the woman.

Deck her, she did. Neith didn't know where she had hit Wendy, but her elbow connected with flesh and muscle. Apparently, she had found the squishy flesh and muscle, because the other session girl cried out and collapsed to free the previously entombed goddess. Neith briskly reached down to pull the bottom of her one-piece down over her ass securely again, but she wasted no other time before pushing up and onto her side and then onto her back. The ailing American reeled on her knees on the other side of the bed, and Neith, too tactful to go for the same sort of dive that had left Wendy on her back, chose to push herself across the bed on her recently ravaged ass and lashed out with both legs, trying to throw one at Wendy's abs and one around her back before slapping them together around her midsection.