A Taste of Things To Come (Dalia Nadeen Mahmoud [D] vs Tomas Ferreira)

[DSX93]

A smile! Now that's more like it. Dalia had half a mind to thank those hecklers for the help they just gave her.

He had a very good point about men like that being pitiable. So quick to mouth off, even about, say, an inexperienced eighteen year old beginning his journey through the world of professional wrestling. In what's easily the craziest promotion to do it in, as though they had the capability of doing so much better. She'd like to see them try. Or maybe she already has: She's watched a few men who came into the business having only been fans before, with not the slightest bit of training. Like this Black Severin character.

But in her experience, loudmouths like the ones at ringside are much more likely to be among the men she's seen being trashed.

Hmm, it seems that spite could be a good way to motivate Tomas. A possibility that the cautious Dalia made a note of, but was happy to indulge in this instance. "That's the spirit."

He took her hands and started on his way down to her on shaky legs. "Take it slow. As slow as you need." Her tone was inviting. Patient. Carrying her experience and a willingness to share it. "Hold your breath. It stills you. Yeah, just like that. You're making good progress. Keep your breath in, and-"

The Oil Mistress's instincts kicked in when his feet failed him: Her arms were held out in place to catch him by the underarms, with her body in his path. He was falling from a low enough a height to remove the danger of his weight taking her down, so it was all a matter of providing a stable base in case his knees slipped out too; keeping him from falling right onto his face.

The oil was an edible sort -- apple flavoring, as requested -- so it wouldn't have been any harm, but she could tell that he didn't want to give those clowns to the side of them anymore ammunition for their jeers. Being a prideful woman, she understood the feeling well.

The accident led to a second embrace shared between them, chest pressing tight into chest. Dalia held on until Tomas had his balance, sharing a quick laugh with him as she made light of the fall. "That eager, are you? Good." The answer to his question began with her bringing both arms to one side, followed by a controlled swing to whirl herself about on her knees. Both arms kept tight and close to her body, leaving no danger of striking Tomas accidentally. And then she reached out with one hand, using his thigh to stop her momentum when her back was facing him. Easy breezy, beautiful Covergirl.

"Go ahead." Dalia kept her eyes facing forward. A showing of trust that was afforded to very few strangers, and one that she wouldn't have given him if he weren't so completely out of his depth. There was a part of her that was telling her to at least turn her head so she could see him over her shoulder, but she quieted that voice for now.

And hoped that she wouldn't regret it.

[GoingBananas]

Dalia chuckled. Not at him, but with him, at least, that is how he took it. That was nice.

It wasn’t the most gracious of landings, nothing like how Dalia would move. But he looked less of a fool, at least. At that point, he was very much distracted from the crowd in general, only focusing on the Black Widow in front of him. "Should I not be eager?" Regardless of how it ended, Tomás gave a nod, thanking Dalia that she offered to guide and assist him that much. It’s his first time. There’s no shame in not being so perfect as the Egyptian.

At the very least, he didn’t fall right on his face. Take that, crowd.

Now it was his turn, and Tomás had made a mental note of how thorough the Oil Mistress’s efforts were. As much as most of the oil was already on her body, the Portuguese man assumed he just had to mimic the very same movements that Dalia did. Follow the blueprints and go from there. Admittedly, his mind was thinking about starting from the shoulders, because when it comes to the chest…

…how should he do it? He wasn’t sure if it would come off as a pervert or anything. Dalia did the same to his chest, so it shouldn’t be an issue. Maybe he’s thinking too much about it. Or maybe he’s not thinking enough. Surely there should be a level of class-

Oh, Dalia would turn round and present her back to him. That’s convenient. Looking at it, it made sense. Dalia would have already gotten most of the oil on that bountiful chest when she pressed hers on his earlier. There were still some spots where the apple-flavored oil didn’t reach. A task that he was best suited for with his free digits.

Oiled hands would roam around her shoulders, evenly spreading the oil so that it better covered the surface area. The tips of his fingers explored the dark skin, almost similar to his, kissed by the sun. Those same tips would slightly press a bit on the skin, working into a massage of sorts as he slowly moved down to the shoulder blades, working around and over the strings of her bikini top.

“So…I take it this isn’t your first time?” Tomás asked, although he would notice that sort of question was vague in general. After clearing the knot in his throat, he tried again. “I mean, facing men? I know this is your debut here, but I assume that you’ve already had a vast amount of experience before this place. Lots of stories and such…” His hands moved lower, just around the lower back. The ashen-haired man’s thumbs would rub in circles while the rest of her fingers embraced her waist's sides.

“That is, if you don’t mind speaking about that. This might take a while...” Nothing harmless about getting to know his opponent, he hoped.

[DSX93]

Despite Tomas's caring application, Dalia was starting to freak out inside. Not knowing exactly what those hands were doing and where they were going had eaten away at her until she eventually couldn't stand it anymore. She turned her head so she'd have an eye on him. Poker-faced, like she wasn't having to remind herself that there wasn't anything wrong here. Because there wasn't. Instead of beginning an attack, he was actually giving her a decent massage, with a slight pressure that reminded her of his own apprehension in this situation. And again, that detail would provide her comfort.

But she still had to be able to see him.

"Not bad, Tomas. Have you done this before?" That he'd even thought to get his fingers involved -- moving his thumbs like that -- said that he had. In terms of the eroticism, that would already have him ahead of some others she's faced. She liked the hold he had on her hips, especially. It was approaching the way she liked to be held when she has a leash around a man's neck, to keep him aware of who's in charge in those times where she feels like being bent over.

"I wrestled a man for the first time back in college. I had a girlfriend at the time who got me into all of this: Wrestling, sex, the combination of the two...I had a lot of firsts, either with or thanks to her. She and her friends were all into erotic wrestling. The purest form of it; grappling only.

This guy she knew had a brother who owned a gym. They'd all get together on the weekends and hold private events. Just for the seven of them -- no recordings. After she taught me a few things, she brought me into the fold.

I had a lot of fun times in that ring. And I learned a lot about myself. But in the end, I had to leave. She was a cheat, and they all knew it, but never said anything. I'd find a place later on in Atlantic City."

Dalia would stop there, but only for as long as she needed to reposition herself. She bent over onto all fours, arching her back to show off the well-rounded, well-toned rump that had yet to be oiled. And of course, she couldn't let him forget about her legs, which would be slowly and deliberately raised to his broad shoulders. All the while, she would be watching his reaction with her lips curled up at one side of her mouth. The smirk of a woman who knows that it was going to be something favorable. "The Erotic Combat Club."

And on top of being an alluring sight, it was a practical move. One quick slip, and she could have him trapped in a deadly scissorhold if she wanted to. But for now, this was about seeing what parts of her he liked best.

"An actual nightclub, and a league of its own. The wrestling was the main attraction, but the owner wasn't looking to compete against dedicated promotions as much as he was trying to make his mark in the nightlife scene. But still, it grew to be a popular establishment, complete with its own website.

I'd faced plenty of men there. And men would go on to make up the majority of my clientele when I started domming on the side."

Dalia wouldn't say it, lest her business potentially suffers for it over some misconceived notion of internalized misogyny, but she preferred the opposite sex. Along with finding them to be simpler creatures in general, she often felt more oomph in their competitive drives. Even the most respectful among them, when they're on, has that innate drive to establish dominance. To not be one of those guys who lost to a woman. Her toughest opponents have been those men who kept their focus, who stepped into the ring to give her a fight. And their defeats would be some of her greatest accomplishments.

And plus, she's found that there was more to do with them than there was with other women during sexual sessions. The immediate gratification that comes with being with someone who at the very least has a good idea of what buttons to push from the start is all well and good, but there's something special about the process of educating a client who lacks that knowledge.

A thought that made her wonder: How knowledgeable was Tomas?

[GoingBananas]

In a few ways, this wasn’t Tomás’s first rodeo. He can tell if someone is tense. There were times when he would calm his men before a mission or a hit that needed to be carried out. With him being a family man, he knew how to calm most situations. Though he wasn’t sure if those would fit in this scenario, but he believed there were some transferable skills. Tomás at first didn’t catch on that Dalia was looking behind his shoulder to see what he was doing, as he was more focused on using his hands to massage some of the tense muscles of the Egyptian. It was only until she spoke that Tomás looked up.

“Um punhado. I’m not like those who work in a spa. But I think I’m…okay.” Seeing that she was watching and going through her own internal panic moments, he also panicked internally, slowing down his movements. “…Am I doing it right?” Tomás believed he wasn’t someone who was clumsy or the type to fumble a task. Considering the nagging reminder from Mr. Henderson that he should do what he can to make the client happy, that was also partly why he got the fingers involved. With combat sports, one should take care of one’s body and he took a few pointers when it came to recovery day. Hopefully, it’s helping.

The Egyptian mistress would answer his question, going through her history before she would step foot in Japan. Dalia’s recounting of her introduction to erotic wrestling surprises him, as she reveals that such a thing was encouraged during college. Tomás couldn’t relate there, never went far in school as he’s been deep in the gang culture. Was this a normal thing during college or university? Private wrestling gatherings? This league continues to surprise him more and more. Though at least the Black Widow had the opportunity to learn in a less stressful setting. Meanwhile, ever since he arrived here, Tomás has experienced a challenging environment. It seemed like an enjoyable experience, minus the whole “partner being unfaithful” part.

“Hrrm…I know people have their...secrets…” He would begin to speak, wanting to voice his displeasure of being cheated on...until his gaze noticed one foot rising up before passing his line of vision. Not bad enough was that his head followed its direction as she watched Dalia's leg rest upon one shoulder. He barely missed the other leg moving, her shins resting on top of his shoulders, capping off the show. Tomás would clear his throat, catching himself from being...interrupted by Dalia's show. “…But such a thing is not right. Deve assentar sempre na confiança…” He muttered that part to himself.

Of course, Tomás knew the cue, letting his hands, which had been idle for a moment because of the showcase Dalia put on earlier, move down to massage her glutes. At this point, Tomás believed that if Dalia ever had a problem with it, she would express it plainly. No beating around the bush when it came to her. It might have been because of the position, but her well-rounded, well-toned rump showed less give once flexed. The amount of balance and core strength needed was impressive to say the least, especially as Tomás worked all over to massage the oil to make sure it was well coated.

“You seem to be well-traveled.” Tomás would remark. “What’s it like over there? Outside of the whole nighttime stuff.” The Nak Muay has seen many tourists and foreigners, but never has he ventured out of his city. He was told that while being young, he should travel, but his role kept him grounded. And he didn’t mind it at all. Perhaps Tomás was busy, but he would let any dreams of travel slip away as he devoted himself to serving the family. In a way, his exile was a blessing in disguise. The Erotic Combat Club seemed to be quite the place she enjoyed being in, especially as it grew to notoriety within the nightlife scene. It had a focus on being its own thing rather than competing as a traditional wrestling promotion. That was nice. And Dalia had a good-sized pool for her to work with, from the sounds of it.

“Domming?” Tomás looked quizzically at the mention of that. “Like, chains and er…whips kind of thing?” That was the extent of his knowledge regarding that. He had never indulged in that sort of thing again, because of work, but he knew of it. At least, the basic kind of what it is.

Tomás wouldn’t let it distract him from his task, going around the thighs and hamstrings. Massaging the thighs and hamstrings with his hands involved applying a firm, yet gentle pressure that intends to release tension and improve circulation. Placing his hands on the upper part of the thigh, close to the hip, Tomás slowly glides his hands down toward the knee, using the palms or fingertips. The ashen-haired man moved to knead the muscles with circular motions, pressing deeply into the tissue with the heels of his hands or thumbs to target knots or tightness. For the hamstrings, he gently squeezed and rolled the muscles between his palms, working from the base of the glutes down toward the back of the knee. Slowly adjusting pressure based on comfort, focusing on areas that feel particularly tight. It was a fabulous body, one that showed some signs of a storied career of wrestling if Tomás was to look deeply for details. However, if Dalia was the type to take care of her body well, such signs would be hard to see.

“Sounds like that place was nice. For you, at least. What made you leave the club? Hopefully not another cheating scandal…”

[DSX93]

There was something about the way Tomas was looking at her in that moment. His eyes suddenly felt sharper. Like he could see into her headspace. But he can't have. Her mask is a damn good one, Dalia was telling herself. The thought of someone being able to suss out her moments of vulnerability so soon after meeting was even worse.

But there was more to his gaze. A softness that kept her from simply turning away. Concern. Worry. It began to affect his work. Damn it, she was going to ruin this for him if she kept this up!

"You're doing just fine."

Now to get things back on track. The Surra de Bunda set-up did the trick.

"Agreed." Dalia would say to him, originally intending to ask him about that quiet utterance before he went right for her cheeks. She let him have at it instead. It was a distraction that they both could use. And when he really started getting to work, she would find herself distracted fast; the way he used his fingers was delightful. Missing not even a single centimeter of her, applying just the right amount of pressure. And his hands in general were pleasant to the touch. Smooth.

The Mistress of the Oil would take hold of him in between her ankles, graciously guiding him into a closer view and flexing her muscles for his viewing pleasure as his hands traveled over them, eliciting a pleased hum. "Oh yes, you're doing a fine job, Tomas." A little reward, and incentive to see it through.

"Atlantic City is a resort city. Lots of casinos, fine food, concerts, and high rollers. It's always busy, especially in the summer. The summer was always a good time for me as a dominatrix. The clients would practically pour in.

And as for the ECC? It's a fine place to be. It certainly had its characters shaking things up. Like a famous porn star -- have you heard of Alix Jacques? She's a wonderful woman. Sweet. Minxy." She stopped to let out a little laugh at a pleasant memory the two would form when Alix agreed to be the subject of one of her videos. She played a bratty character, and it was Dalia's objective to squeeze the attitude out of her. The ad-libs that Alix would bring into the scene made it one to remember.

"Fun to play with. And then there was a redhead who brought a vampire gimmick to the club: She'd always perform well, but the club didn't offer the sort of combat that she was looking for, so she left after a few months. Had a couple goths there who fell into that "I hate you all" stereotype that had people coming in just to see if they'd ever be taken down a notch. And there was a woman who looked every bit like a live action Jessica Rabbit. Wore the dress, had a good singing voice, put on performances, and all. Eventually, a man came along to seek her hand in marriage, and eventually, she said yes.

It was quite the place. Ran by a good man. A dear friend." Another pause as events replayed in her mind. She did her utmost to avoid the more unpleasant ones, which was almost entirely everything that had to do with Eric Eros. It was easy to keep her smile: Eric tried to destroy her, and he almost did. But in the end, she survived. She beat him. She won.

Tomas would prove to be a good distraction again when those hands -- oh, those fingers! -- moved to her thighs. Hamstrings. Her hips. And of course, he wasn't done with her ass just yet. His return to it got a chuckle out of her, followed by more humming as he began to make his way down. She extended those long legs of hers and let him have at them while she continued her story.

"It was hard to leave. He did a lot for me. Really, I owe a lot of my success to him. He gave me the platform to be what I am today.

LAW is the reason I left. They made me an offer. There's no better way to show the world exactly why they call me the 'Mistress of the Oil' than to compete on this stage, and he knew it. He wanted me to come here."

A lengthy silence that would be interrupted by the occasional purr would follow, as Dalia wanted to simply enjoy Tomas's process. He really knows how to touch a woman.

When he finished up with her knees, she would slip her shins from their perch on his shoulders, then turn to face him, keeping herself propped up by her elbows. One leg would be raised to resume its position on his shoulder. The other would be lifted towards his face, toes wiggling.

"As for my work as a dominatrix: Yes, it does involve chains and whips, but only sometimes. My legs are my favorite instruments, and my most famous. Particularly my thighs." She would hover her foot even closer now, mere inches away. Her brown eyes would burn into his with a sultry gaze. "And my feet."

[GoingBananas]

“That’s a relief.” He nodded, choosing to carry on and not think all too deeply as to what Dalia may be thinking. It was peculiar, but perhaps he was reading too deeply into things. It’s most likely nothing.

Tomás continued his work on the dark-skinned woman, his hands gliding smoothly across her warm, oil-slicked skin. The rich liquid shimmering in the lights above them. His fingers, strong yet gentle, press firmly into her muscles, kneading away tension with rhythmic motions that trace the contours of her body.

Despite the notable muscle on those legs, her skin feels supple under his touch. The oil amplifies every sensation, allowing the Ashen-haired man’s hands to move effortlessly, as if they are skating over Dalia’s skin, dark and radiant as it absorbs the oil slowly, glowing beneath his hands with a deep, lustrous sheen.

Each stroke feels deliberate and patient, his thumbs circling into the knots, easing the tightness. The sweet apple scent fills the air. All the while, he worked his way down, letting the warmth of his touch sink into her skin. Dalia’s body responds well, relaxing deeper into the sensation, even as she moves to take hold of him with her ankles.

Letting the Black Widow flex the muscles of her legs, rippling with definition, power, and grace. Her quads became immediately prominent. All the while, he saw the different parts bulge and showcase their curves as they contract. The smooth, dark tone of her skin accentuates the contrast of those muscles working in harmony, catching the light with a sleek, almost polished glow. The long muscles of her hamstrings engaged, creating deep lines and shadows. And the glutes contract into a firm, rounded shape.

Lower down, her calves respond as well, the notable muscles completing the dynamic display of muscle coordination.

“Okay, now you’re just showing off, menina.” The fact she hadn’t slipped yet made Tomás jealous. Though as he continued to move down towards her ankles, he knew he couldn’t judge. If you got the ability, why not flaunt it? It’s giving the Portuguese man such a show, one that he gave an acknowledging smile and nod. This is someone who worked hard for that body and it showed.

“This Atlantic City place sounds like Las Vegas.” Considering how similar it sounded regarding the strip, he wasn’t wrong in thinking that. Blame movies for that. “Alix?” He would ponder that name as he massaged her ankles. “I heard of the name from passing, but nothing further than that. So you know her too, atrevida? Small world.”

LAW seems to attract all sorts of people, even those from the same league. Dalia went on to explain the other characters in the club. Vampires, goths, pornstars, Jessica Rabbit lookalikes. It seemed to have it all. “Never a dull moment, it sounds like.”

The reason that LAW gave her a good offer seemed to check out well. Even some higher-ups were willing to bend backward if it meant that it would make her happy. In a way, Tomás could probably understand what a top signing this is, judging from the amount of life-changing money they threw at him for being a substitute.

And here he is giving her a massage! This might not be such a bad deal after all.

“When the opportunity calls, you go for it. I respect that.” Tomás hadn’t seen going to Japan as an opportunity at first, but it has been a wild ride thus far. “And you’re about to show the world that on me. Aren’t I lucky?” This time, he didn’t sound like he was downcast at the beginning. Progress is being made.

The Mistress of the Oil would slip her legs away from his shoulders, turning round to face Tomás. One leg would find itself returning to its perch. But the other leg…or rather, the other foot, began to wriggle at his face. If Tomás could blush rosy cheeks like those animes, he would right there and then. Seeing it hover towards his face, just a few inches from where he could smell that apple scent. Slowly teasing him with the object of desire. To the point where he barely registered what she said there.

“I…err…wouldn’t have...thought about that regarding a dominatrix.” Catching himself gawking at it for too long, Tomás would try to rescue it by taking the foot with both hands and giving it a massage. No big deal. It’s just like the rest of her body…surely there’s…no…big…deal…

[DSX93]

Why shouldn't she show off? With a cheeky cadence, she'd say what they both knew: "You know you like it." The answer was most likely a resounding no, but Dalia wondered if any of the cameras had captured any shots of Tomas's currently rather silent hecklers in the audience.

"Something like that." She would say about Atlantic City. "Vegas is like the Disneyland of nightlife. Atlantic City is...like a smaller version of that, but it stands on its own merits."

She was curious about the...it had to be Portuguese that he was peppering his speech with. What was he saying? "Alix a formidable competitor. And she's signed on for intergender competition as well, so I wouldn't be surprised to see the two of you in the ring some day. Count yourself lucky if that happens. She's a nice girl."

"Never a dull moment, indeed. There was always something happening there. It would be a bit much sometimes, but all-in-all, I loved that place." So much so, that she actually considered turning LAW down. Something that she would leave unsaid here. "It was hard to leave."

Tomas didn't seem to be quite bothered by the idea of being dominated by her now. Progress had been made. And an important discovery would be made after she turned around: "Looks like you've seen something you really like." She'd cast a knowing grin as the man was practically mesmerized by her foot. "Feel free to take your time with them." Those magical hands would see him rewarded with more of her pleasured hums. Such expert technique, doubled with delicately applied strength. He must be popular with the ladies. "The preparations for an oil match are oftentimes as exciting for the audience as the matches themselves." As the whistles and cheers of the electrified, anticipatory crowd would show. Many for her, but Tomas was receiving his share of applause as well.

"And on top of that, I wonder..." Dalia would keep her foot wriggling in his face even with it in his grasp, like she was looking to hypnotize him with it. Pressing on this weakness felt like it would be a good bit of fun. And his demeanor thus far had her wanting to indulge him. "Is there anything else you're good with, besides your hands?" She'd hover her toes mere inches away from his lips, wiggling them about more animatedly now.

Ah, fuck it. His lips would receive a playful pat, all but directly telling him to part them and say "ah".

[GoingBananas]

Considering the nature of the Erotic Combat Club, Tomás wondered if Alix wasn’t the only one who came into the league following Dalia. He wouldn’t put it past it, especially as it sounded like a smaller version of what LAW is currently. Despite it being a mecca that brought in talent of varying skills, the big appreciation of eroticism and hentai is still prevalent in attracting loads of talent.

If that’s the case, he wondered if such things were prevalent back in his home country. People associate Portugal with love because of its romantic atmosphere, historic love stories, and beautiful natural settings. He’s had a hand with some dealings with the more seedier places, but he doesn’t delve much deeper into what really goes on inside their doors. Out of sight, out of mind, he thought. But it wouldn’t surprise Tomás if it turns out this sort of thing is just as big in Europe as it is in North America.

“Hmmm…is America the only place you’ve had those kinds of matches in?” Couldn’t hurt to ask, he thought. A shame he can’t inspect his gang back in Portugal if they knew anything about this.

Good thing he asked it, as he would now end up having some trouble focusing because of the foot hovering in front of him. Dalia would be astute, though Tomás made it easy for her, not really hiding his mesmerization by her foot. Aside from his match with The White Widow (ironic, when you think about it), the Nak Muay had a bit of trouble focusing on his offense when he faced ladies who didn’t have any footwear. Although those were just two matches, they still stuck out in his mind, mostly because his performance was…sub-optimal at best.

However, his mind recalled how their feet moved with a blend of grace and fierce power, each step and strike a testament to the beauty and strength embodied in a woman’s form. Slender, elegant, exuding both sensuality and raw athleticism. There’s a sensual fluidity in how it moves, walking the line between being a weapon and a symbol of sensuality.

Thankfully, his usual Muay Thai shorts meant that the big mess he made wouldn’t have been noticeable. Which was a blessing in his debut match with Eliza Harenwood. And with his match with Asp, that came with the territory. It didn’t help with his performances, even now he could remember the feeling of those kicks upon his face, body, and his member. The way their arch curves in perfect symmetry, toes moving with strength and finesse, moving with deft ease…

...Hmm, perhaps Henderson made the right decision when selecting Tomás.

The Portuguese pugilist would move on, looking to at least finish the job with the massage. Dalia’s foot, smooth and rich in tone, gleamed under the bright lights, the deep brown of her skin contrasting with the glossy black nail polish adorning her nails. Perfectly shaped, rounded, and neat, their dark sheen catching the light with a subtle elegance. Her toes flexed and wriggled as the unqualified masseuse began their work, starting at the arch. High and graceful, that curve is, her skin feeling soft to the touch. Tomás’s fingers moved to the ball of her foot, kneading out whatever tightness out of the muscles with slower, circular motions. Her heel would receive deeper pressure, if not for being a harder surface.

“Hmmm…you don’t say…” It is possible to question whether he’s doing better because of the teasing from Dalia or if Tomás was able to concentrate on the task at hand. That doesn’t stop the Egyptian from teasing him further, her other foot moving as if trying to hypnotize him further. “Is this…common…with your dominatrix work?” Perhaps he’s not the only one. And judging by how her toes patted on those lips, there’s a part that he would play here. His mind phased out between some of what she’s saying, but he gets the jist of it all. In terms of the last question…

“I’m not one to brag. I like to surprise.”

Smooth, Tomás. Real smooth. For now, he would let his lips part, not wide, but just enough that there’s a noticeable opening. If only to see where this is heading.

[DSX93]

"Yes. After I migrated there from Cairo, I hadn't ever left until I came to Japan to prepare for tonight."

...

Tomas was as fascinated by her foot as she's ever seen in some time in the ring. The man held such an appreciation for it that it had almost took a firm grip of his mind. In general, however? Not quite. Daniel Rider and Trent Florentino shared the number one spot. But the night is young. He may beat them out yet.

"Common-ish. It's not an everysession thing, but I see my fair share of foot fetishists, if that's what you meant. I always compete barefoot, and people notice that in a sport like ours. If it's the oil you were talking about, very. I like the sensuality of it, and there are few dominatrices and session wrestlers out there who work with it, so it brings me a lot of business.

And it helps that I'm damn good at my craft. As you'll be discovering soon enough." She'd cast a playful smirk at him.

Ah, surprises. Dalia's never liked to be on the receiving end of them. Of course, she enjoys them when they go well, but there's always that thought of the next time. What if it doesn't the next time? Because when things go wrong, they really go wrong. And of course, there was the potential here for something to change in the negative with the man who was giving her the TLC that every moment told her, louder and louder, that her feet were in need of.

Oh, that's nice. By his admission, he wasn't a professional, but he was getting all the kinks out, nonetheless.

But anyway, if it were, she's still in complete control, as again, even he's admitted. So she wasn't stressing. As surprises go, Tomas was indeed a good one thus far. As her toes slipped past his parted lips, she had the thought to give Mr. Henderson her thanks after this is over.

[GoingBananas]

Cairo, eh? Full Egyptian, from the sounds of it. Tomás didn’t doubt that fact, but there was also the sneaking suspicion that she could have just been born into America by Egyptian parents. The ashen-haired man could count the number of Egyptians he had seen, including Dalia, on one hand. In fact, three fingers. It was a rarity that they would find themselves in Portugal. Though that fact alone wasn’t the most surprising. There’s many that are born from other countries than the USA, UK or even Canada, who have found their way into LAW. People found him quite exotic because he came from a country in Europe.

What was is the stuff she had gotten into. Egypt didn’t sound like a place that aligned with Dalia’s interests. Though the knowledge of other countries was from some tourists; wherever or not is true remains to be seen. Tomás never thought he would leave his home country, and yet here he is in the Land of the Rising Sun. Perhaps Egypt might be more progressive than he thought.

Tomás would have questioned it further if it wasn’t because he had a foot in his mouth. Not in a metaphorical sense, either. At first, his own lips took aback him at first, shocked that they went to the task so well without a hint of resistance on his part. Then again, it’s far from the worst part of the human body he could put his mouth to.

Tomás began with gentle, almost feather-light licks, tracing along the delicate ridge from her toes to the top of her foot. His tongue moved slowly, savoring the warmth and subtle textures of her skin. Focusing his attention on each one, the cool black nail polish contrasting with the warmth of his mouth. The taste and feel of her skin are mesmerizing, the smoothness broken only by the tiniest imperfections that speak to the natural strength and elegance she carries.

If he was going to give the Black Widow a tongue bath, he might as well be thorough with the job. The last thing he wanted was for his mouth to be less than stellar compared to his hands. Aside from the sharp tang of perspiration, the taste wasn’t even that bad. The apple flavor certainly helped, adding the fruity scent that hung in the air and tickled his nose.

“Mmnn…” He was still listening, though, the only thing Tomás could do at this moment. There are practical reasons one would wrestle or even fight barefoot, so that’s understandable to Tomás. He found it intriguing when she mentioned that there were a few dominatrices and session wrestlers who work with this fetish. Was it not a common thing in this particular world? The feeling of being a potential outlier mixed with him just hoping he’s doing a good job of this. Either is the way he was taking to the task or how his manhood was fully straining under the thin, oil-soaked fabric of his boxer briefs. There're many cues that Dalia could take.

He would work his way down to her arch without Dalia telling Tomás to do so. His tongue followed the graceful curve, exploring the tension and softness in equal measure, feeling the tender, yet resilient skin. With him already doing his job working out the kinks of that lower limb, this would be light work, lapping it up with a careful caress.