Jumping in the Deep End

[BlackAkuma]

Yeah, he caught that little wrinkle on her face. He was pretty sure that Beatrice was shooting for the femme fatale theme, and she pulled it off perfect 99% of the time, but every once in a while it could slip and she would revert to something closer to ‘cute’. He suspected she’d be a lot of fun to hang out with in a more casual setting, where the cameras weren’t on, and they could let their personas drop.

For now, though, the world was watching and they had their roles to play. Keith was the cocky, but fun-loving streamer with a heart of gold and Beatrice was…

Well, he was about to find out.

Despite playing the rube, Keith had some small ideas on how this was supposed to go. He didn’t think Beatrice would go light on him, exactly, but he figured this would be half-competitive, half-playful. They weren’t wrestling for a belt or a prize or even a bump on their WLD record. This was pure exhibition.

Beatrice either forgot that or didn’t much care, either way. Keith had all of exactly one second to prepare as she came bowling forward, moving far faster than he would’ve expected from someone of their knees. Their bodies collided with an impact that echoed the distance thunderclaps, and down they went, crashing to the mat with her on top of him.

Not the worst position to be in for most guys, he suspected, but that only applied when her legs weren’t in the equation. Knowing what they were capable of, he had good reason to worry.

Distance, he needed distance. Planted his feet on the canvas, he bucked hard and twisted to the side, trying to hurl her away and off to the side before she could work her watermelon magic.

[Liesmith]

It was understandable that Keith was mostly worried about what Tris’ legs could do to him.

But the voluptuous Brit bombshell had other things in mind for him first. As much fun as it’d be to go straight to the squeezing, she wanted to prove – to him and to anyone watching – that she was much more than just a one-trick pony.

First, though, she needed him on the mats. And while it might not have been the most elegant method, she’d done just that – bowling him over.

Keith didn’t seem to like that and promptly went to buck her off with plenty of enthusiasm, if not all that much skill.

Between her bottom-heavy physique and her roller derby skills, Tris was legitimately tough to shift by any standard – but that only applied if she was securely planted.

As she was, scrambling for position atop Keith’s bucking body, ‘secure’ was the last word to describe Tris right now. And she didn’t even bother trying to ride that wave.

Instead, she rolled with it. Quite literally. But Tris clung to Keith as she rolled, legs hooked tightly around his hips, doing her best to take him with her. Unless the blond streamer was quick about it, he’d find himself going for a spin along with her.

Over they’d go and over again, first one on top and then the other. But, when the music stopped, Tris meant to ensure she came out firmly astride Keith.

“You can’t get away from me that easily,” she teased, looking to scoot up his toned chest, “Not that most guys want to…”

[BlackAkuma]

Keith was surprised by how heavy Beatrice was, at least at first contact. Not heavey heavy, but a good deal moreso than she looked. While he was sure the weight advantage was firmly in his camp, she had far more to work with than he’d expected, and he could only imagine what a smaller woman would have to deal with if they clashed with her. He suspected there were quite a few people on the LAW roster who had painful days ahead.

Hopefully, he wouldn’t be included in that number. That was the idea when he tried to throw her off at least, but it seemed she had other ideas in mind.

”What-” Beatrice clung tight and the two of them went tumbling, over and over, roll after roll, on top then on bottom then on top again.

It ended with her on the mount, looming above and settling her weight on his chest. Keith tried to buck her, but her position was solid - no matter how he squirmed, he wasn’t getting away. No way that he could see yet, anyway.

”What can I say?” He grunted and made another attempted at bucking her. Another failed attempt. ”I’m special.”

[Liesmith]

In point of fact, there were fourteen pounds separating Keith’s weight from Tris’. Perhaps less than he imagined, particularly given the redhead was packing those onto a frame half a foot shorter than the blond.

The twisting, twirling roll across the mats was certainly disorientating for her. More so for Keith? Maybe. What mattered was that Tris wound up on top – where she belonged – and this time, she had no trouble riding out his struggles, using her weight and her powerful hips to keep Keith trapped under her. It was a measure of how cocky the British wrestler was that she took a moment to flick her ponytail back into place, adjust her bra straps.

It belied how she was working to keep him pinned but she knew the cameras would eat it up.

Between his attempts to throw her off, Tris slid still higher, aiming to plant her fulsome backside right on his sternum – a position that would settle her weight squarely on his upper body with her crotch almost in his face and her thick, firm thighs pressed tight against his cheeks.

Not the safest place to be, but Tris wasn’t really squeezing. Not yet at least, the embrace of her thighs more of a gentle hug than anything even if it held the promise of pain to come.

“Sure you are,” she crooned, dragging the first word out with an emphasis that could only be described as bratty, “You’re my special lil’ Foxy.”

The redhead reached down, ruffled his hair a little.

[BlackAkuma]

Kieth tried twisting a little this way, then that. Nope.

A few quick bursts, maybe slip his way out one thrust at a time before she could correct? Not that way, either.

There was probably some way out of this, some slick, smart maneuver that would let him get free and look good for the cameras, but Keith would be damned if it was coming to him at the moment. The cameraman was coming around for a better look, and he could only imagine how silly he looked down there, pinned under a hot redhead. But that camera couldn't properly see just how solid Beatrice was, how much weight she was truly pressing down on him with. It was nothing to scoff at.

Of course, it wasn’t all bad. He kind of liked the view, he had to say. And her voice was having some pleasant effects, to say nothing of the scruffing up of his hair. He was extremely glad the camera was focusing on his upper body and not his lower, lest they see something extremely memeable.

”I could get used to that.” He had a hoarse laugh. ”But…”

In one last ditch effort, Keith planted his feet, thrust upwards and tried to hurl Beatrice off in a single explosive burst recruiting every muscle he could for the effort.

[Liesmith]

Tris wasn’t much of a poker girl, she preferred more physical entertainments. But she’d still got a good eye for a ‘tell’ – and Keith wasn’t exactly making his subtle. He’d caught her earlier, she’d admit that. Now she knew what to look for.

So, when he pulled the same ‘but-gotcha’ surprise, Tris wasn’t.

Surprised, that was.

It was tempting, almost overwhelmingly so, to just stay in mount. Or roll him into a headscissors instead, that was always fun.

But she didn’t want to end her play yet and Keith still had plenty of gas left for her to exhaust.

So she let him have it this time, letting him throw her off and over without any more than a cursory attempt to stay in place.

Tris hit the mat shoulder-first and rolled, twisted, came back up on her knees with practiced ease a little way away from Keith.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, appraisingly, but she held her ground and didn’t immediately lunge back in.

“Wow, yeah,” to her credit, she did try to keep the condescension to a bare minimum (for her), “You need some serious help, my dude. That was embarrassing to watch.”

It was strangely disappointing. Not that she’d been expecting him to be some black belt level savant or anything, obviously – or they wouldn’t be doing this. But Tris had thought he’d, she didn’t know, at least try to use his brains and not just brute force his way through everything.

Which was fine with her, though she didn’t think her lil’ Foxy would last as long as he thought if he kept that up.

[BlackAkuma]

Keith Fox wasn’t stupid. At least, not completely stupid. He would never say he was a genius or anything, and he hadn't been wrestling long enough to say he was anywhere near an expert, but he was getting a good sense of things through his training. The way a body worked, the way things were supposed to move, what you were supposed to feel and not feel.

Enough to know when, say, maybe someone was letting him get off light.

He didn’t expect that forcing Tris off would be easy, of course, but he was reasonably sure she could’ve made the effort a lot harder if she’d wanted to. Her legs were in prime position to crush his head like so many ripe watermelons, and yet he was getting off with all of his bones intact.

She was toying with him, and he wasn’t too sure how he felt about that. He competitive by nature, didn’t like the thought of someone soft-selling him, but he also didn't like the thought of getting knocked unconscious less than a minute into a match on his own show. So, mixed feelings, to say the least.

Solution? Do better.

”Well,” He rolled his neck and took up his position again. ”I wanted to jump into the deep end, can’t be surprised.”

With that little joke thrown and the levity re-established, Keith moved in once again, this time coming a bit hard, a bit faster, a bit more determined. He brought his arms up as he neared this time, reached, rose up a bit, and lunged forward with his arm extended, trying to seize her head and pull her into a front facelock, hoping he might be able to lock her down that way.