Francisca waited back stage, stretching out her limbs in preparation for the next match in the mixed contest. Clad in her maroon, Devil Cat leotard, she was a lustful vision, her chocolate hair spilling out from the behind the mask she wore, and long thigh boots covering her slender legs. She smiled to herself, eager to get back into the ring once again.
Her entrance music
Knock Back pounded from the speakers and the Devil Cat raced out from behind the curtain, halting at the top of the ramp with both arms extended high into the sky as she surveyed the cheering crowds. With a sultry smile, she slowly brought her hands down, gliding them enticingly over the swell of her breasts and down her thighs, turning her body side-on to the cameras to better show off her curvaceous physique.
Then she burst into motion racing down the ramp with a whoop of anticipation. She reached the ring, diving neatly under the bottom ropes and rolling until she came onto all fours like a cat, looking left and right, eyes twinkling behind her luchadora mask.
Languidly she stood up and took up her position in the centre of the ring, hands on hips, awaiting the arrival of her next opponent.
