Mikoto Kusanagi Vs Miss USA: Once and Future Angels

“7!...8!...9!...”

With every dizzying 360 rotation Mikoto started to taste more and more of her chicken teriyaki bento box she had for lunch. Her flowing mop of hair trailed behind her in the breeze with her fingers interlocked behind her head in dreaded anticipation that Marilyn would fling her mid-swing and make the Miko princess a flying nun.

“Nngh..” Grateful but still dazed, Mikoto flopped down to the canvas when USA mercifully put an end to the rollercoaster. She scrunched her face and bobbed her head up and down before finding the will power to roll to her side and wearily climb to her hands and knees. The ride may have stopped by the room certainly didn’t stop spinning. The mere act of standing seemed too much for her before she cautiously stood on her quivering spaghetti legs.

The priestess held the side of her head as spiraling swirls replaced her eyes, groaning at the nauseating sight of the revolving audience, still having a playful laugh as well. Teetering left and right in a punch drunk fashion, the priestess breathed slowly and managed one step, then two….but not three, crossing her skinny legs and tripping over her own feet to bounce face first onto Marilyns heaving chest. Mumbling incoherently with the side of her face nuzzled atop USA’s right breast, the priestess may not have known where she was at the moment, but the ref did, initiating a pin count as well!!

“1!”

With every nudge and poke into her dazed head the priestess snuggled deeper into the ample cleavage, cozying so comfortably that her slightly open mouth left a slim trail of spittle as well. She rapidly blinked her unfocused eyes as the aftereffects of the big swing started to wear off, though it was Marilyns jostling and abrupt breaking of the pin attempt that snapped Miko out of it.

“Nnngh …” Flipping off the American to her backside before wearily lurching up to her elbows, Mikoto squinted her eyes until the harsh reality of where she just rubbing her face came to light, her face blushing beet red with a wide-eyed expression.

"Oh noooo, I didn't do what I think I did?..." As embarrassed as she was though she knew she couldn’t allow Miss USA the time to recoup as well, noticing her American opponent groggily attempting to get vertical just as she did.

In a swift motion, Miko would entangle both her slim legs around one of Marilyns muscled calves and shift and kick wildly, hopefully tripping her and having her fall back down to the canvas where her size advantage may not make as big of a difference.

The comedic pratfalls were all earning a hearty laugh from the audience who seemed to be enjoying themselves at both wrestlers’ expenses. A much more light-hearted feel to a match than Miko was used to by now…

Mikoto lurched forward and sprang atop Marilyn’s back by the time she got to her knees, locking her hands together behind Marilyn’s neck in a full nelson. The priestess stayed standing as she leaned forward and kept her added weight and pressure on the american’s neck, intending to wear her down and not have to face her inhuman strength once again.

“Listen...L-lets jus forget about what happened...please?” Mikoto couldn’t help but whisper this into Marilyns ear while she had the hold applied, still embarrassed from her snooze on her opponent’s comfy chest.

“Wha?! That’s not what ...Well I do,  Jus not like you’re-!!” Mikoto’s flustered expression would thankfully be partially hidden from view as she pressed her blushing face against the back of Miss USA’s neck. She applied the hold as tight as possible with Marilyn’s arms hanging limply in the air, hoping the strain and lose of blood in her arms would tire her out.

Unfortunately the American wrestler’s natural strength and stamina brought the both of them up to a standing position and before Miko could react she found herself pressed against the ropes along with Marilyn. Unhooking her hands and releasing her hold, the priestess quickly allowed the rope break and stepped back to mid ring to rest and ger her own mind back in order and off of anymore of Marilyn’s teasing.

Breathing steadily helped straighten out whatever spinning remnants lingered in her mind from Marilyn’s spin cycle. Miss USA’s distinctly American brand of show boating wrestling had taken Mikoto off of her game, the priestess realizing that rookie or not Marilyn definitely had what it takes to put her away. An embarrassing notion to say the least for the priestess, her pride as a Wrestle Angel taking a significant hit if she lost to an up and comer.

Mikoto lowered her stance and followed Marilyns movements in solid preparation for whatever she had planned. The priestess would fall for the feint and duck low to dodge the clothesline, but she never let her eye off of Marlilyn who already had a habit faking out attacks. Nimbly sidestepping the drop kick would plant Marilyn on her back having barely nicked Miko’s shoulder, who would reach down and lift Marilyns leg off the mat.

“Sorry Miss, fool me once…” In an attempt to catch Marilyn in a particularly nasty submission, the priestess would cross and fold her thighs around her opponents knee and give it a firm squeeze before falling back to the canvas. With a twist of USA’s ankle and disjointing pain on her knee, the American would now get a taste of Puroresu style wrestling with a Japanese leg bar.