[Standard Match] Elena Walker Vs. Blaise Cameron - Good Vibes All the Way....Or is It?

[Hitman45]

It appeared to be game over for Elena. Head lolled back, eyes half-lidded, arms limp to her sides, unable to help despite being free from the bone-crushing squeeze applied around the blonde's waist. It took every fibre of her exhausted being to stay up, even though her mind was crying out loud to go to sleep, and this was reflected in the feeble ministrations of Elena's aching limbs writhing aimlessly.

The only consolation currently was the complete breach of their personal space to be pressed against one another, with Elena able to make out Blaise's chiselled physique rather extensively — his defined midsection digging into her more plain, even expanse; his bare, slick pecs smushing against her larger, pillowy bust, and his flexing, bulging biceps kneading her sides to arch the blonde tighter and closer to him. Add to that their weary, battered selves, and the ragged, gravelly resonance mirroring their physical well-being, just for each other's ears to take in and revel in, and you've got a bubble of real intensity, unyielding attitude and sheer willpower, accompanied by a spark that had been steadily feeding to grow into something more passionate.

However, they wouldn't be in that position for long enough to be immortalised that way to be studied like a work of art, obviously. Blaise moved.With purpose.To finally finish Elena off.

"Ooufff...HHhaakkk—" Her subdued brain got hit by a hard brick. Well, it was the mat, but it was still enough to bring her back from her 'slumber'. She got slammed back-first and simultaneously got sandwiched by a large piece of meat, which was Blaise.

The initial shock gradually tapered off to leave a trail of white-hot agony across the length of her spine, which had already borne the brunt of her opponent's offence, so much so that she could feel her ocean-blue eyes almost pop out of the socket!

Elena lay there trapped between the floor and the curiously unmoving body on top of her, her mouth a source of broken whimpers and hitched exhales, as if the air was being blocked by a stone wedged in her windpipe.

She was alive for sure. But absolutely shattered.

[CyanDimitrik]

And that body has no intention of moving. Blaise has landed heavily upon her, feeling Elena's body crushed beneath his at the completion of the slam, and he's in no rush to break the position. If this is how he earns the pin tonight, that's perfectly fine by him. She fought hard. She's made his... everything... ache. He's looking to put her away here and now.

To that end, Blaise reaches for her wrists to slide them up over her head. His knees nudge in between her legs to take away her lower leverage before snaking his calves with hers in a slight grapevine. Their bodies are sealed together, his toned chest pressed hard against the curvature of her breasts tight enough to share a rapid, pounding heartbeat. Sleek abdominals rest against her toned stomach, and thanks to the legs tangling together, his hips are locked firmly against hers. Every squirm and shift causes friction between them, the sweat of their arduous physical contest slickening their skin.

His face briefly presses to hers, nose to nose. Hard, heated puffy breaths are shared against her mouth for a few seconds before lifting to look out at the audience.

The referee drops beside the pair, hand raised to begin counting the final pin. Each strike of the palm to the mat is met with a tight nod of Blaise's head.

"ONE!"