What's Up, Doc? (For Gwyndolin)

The look she's turned on him is nothing but affectionate, and it winds up breaking his heart a little. It's odd what things remind him that he's on borrowed time with her; what could be. But he puts on a light smile and shifts back a step from her as well. He's not going to ruin her mood. He refuses to.

When she makes that cute 'ding' sound with her mouth, Drake moves forward to lock up with the woman. His full strength isn't put into the grapple, but there is a noticeable effort as he tries to walk her back into the ropes. "You know my goal here today..," he mentions as his body tenses visibly in strain, "...is to wear you out." His eyes narrow and that smile turns sly. "...In so many ways..."

A light match with hentai elements. No audience. Just them. For fun. This feels more like the sort of training he'd need to actually do hentai matches. If he were to do them, that is. Though as the thought crosses his mind, he realizes he wouldn't want to do legitimate hentai matches anyway. This is what he'd want to do. Private sessions with someone his heart's become invested in.

Drake wasn't the only person struggling with their shared inability to sustain a romantic relationship. Irene wanted her time with Drake to last forever...she wanted it badly. She knew Drake wanted it too, and she wished that he could accept her career choices and let them keep their work lives and private lives separate. Hell, Drake himself had been willing to take other matches with hentai elements since his match with Irene, and even dared to flirt with the other girls he fought. There was no reason that she should be disallowed from using her sexuality as a weapon in the ring as well. She was too strident for that, too stubborn and idealistic to castrate her own AFW career because a boyfriend wanted her too. Even if the boy in question was otherwise so entrancing to her...

Distracted as she was, lost in her thoughts, Irene barely offered any resistance when Drake seized her arms and drove her backwards. The girl stumbled back and gasped lightly when she was pushed toward the edge, her body stretched backwards against the ropes, body taut and exposed. Irene's mind snapped back to the matter at hand, but rather than try to force Drake off of her entirely, she decided to tease him a bit.

“I forgot to tell you: for this spar, I solemnly swear that I won't attack your groin like I did in our last fight,” she said, but at the same time, the girl slyly positioned one of her knees between Drake's legs and pushed it up, massaging his manhood as her knee and thigh rubbed up against him. “At least, I won't attack your groin in the painful kind of way

She'd be right. Drake's been using teasing and flirtation in the ring since his match with Irene. He could call it her fault for presenting it as a viable weapon! But there remains that line that separates teasing from intimacy, how far he's willing to go. And even he is uncertain if he'd continue to use flirtation as a weapon, should he actually be with someone.

...Their date is a very distracting one. On so many levels. Besides their thoughts of shoulds or should-nots, the latest comes in the form of Irene brushing a knee between his legs. Drake blinks and tilts his head as if to glance down at what she's doing. But he's leaning in too close to actually see. All he gets is a view of scientist cleavage. But he certainly feels the effects.

"Mmn, keep that up and I just might lie down for ya," he purrs playfully. His hips push forward, sliding up her thigh, while his hands move from the lockup to attempt grabbing her by the wrists. If he can get ahold of her, he'll try to drape them over the top rope to keep her body taut and defenseless. Obviously this isn't something that would work in a normal match, as they've only just kicked things off, but this rendezvous is anything but normal.

“Oh, you'll lie down for me, inside this ring or outside it,” Irene teased flirtatiously as Drake's warm body glided over her thigh, pressing her against the ropes more tightly as his arms moved to seize her wrists. As curious and eager as Irene was to see how Domino was planning to wear her down, the girl intended to make him work for it even if they were both holding back a bit. If she just let him have his way with her, it'd just be boring for the both of them.

When Drake started forcing her arms back, the young scientist lowered the knee that had been caressing his nether regions, only to bring it back up and hit him in the stomach. “Don't start thinking I'm helpless, Dom,” the girl warned as she contracted and stretched her arms, struggling to break free from Domino's grasp. Despite her talk of not being helpless, though, she would still be backed up against the ropes even if she was successful.

That knee lowers, only to lift to bump into his firm abdominals again. "Nnf..." Rather than struggle with her on the ropes, Drake falls back a step and moves back to the center of the ring. "Wouldn't dream of it," he muses.

"Come on, get off'a the ropes." He beckons towards her and widens his stance. Pressing her body taut against the ropes is nice. It's a great excuse to brush up against her. But there's just so much more that he can do to her in the middle of the mat, with no barriers around them. ...Plus, he's curious to see how hard she intends on fighting with him.

Should she step forward to meet him, he'll fire off a light punch for her exposed midsection to get the ball rolling again!

Though she would never admit it, Irene was a little bummed out when her struggling not only succeeded in freeing her arms, but also convincing Drake to back up and give her a little space. She didn't like being on the losing end of a match or spar, but it was exhilarating in a way that being the dominant of two fighters just wasn't. After all, when you've hit bottom in any situation, you've got nowhere to go but up. In this case, her submissive side was made even stronger by the fact that she knew Drake and valued her relationship with him, which created an impulse to just let herself melt in his arms and let him call the shots every once in a while...

Maybe she could do that later, but for now, Drake was urging her to go back on the attack. As Irene approached him, he fired off a cheeky punch that hit her midsection. Irene coughed and bent over in shock, but as she did, an arm shot up to hook itself around his neck for support. Thinking quickly, Irene would try to turn her position to her advantage, as she snaked that arm further around his neck and tried to bend him over, simultaneously straightening herself back up as she tried to work him into a side headlock. If she could get Drake's head secured under one of her arms, her free hand would go to work on his exposed face. Rather than simply start beating away with a fist, however, Irene aimed for playful humiliation. She would tug his hair, pinch his cheeks, and even hook a couple of fingers into his nostrils to start tweaking his nose around. It would all hurt slightly, but more importantly it would make him look funny, and for a playful spar like this, she valued fun over sheer effectiveness...

T'was only a quick shot to the abs, intended to briefly wind his long-haired 'opponent' to better work her over. Though he isn't even sure how to proceed with her after seeing her bent over. Does he try to nail her with what he typically would in the ring? Try something suggestive?

'Ahhh, crap!'

This is why Drake doesn't flourish in hentai matches. It also leads to such a delay that Irene easily catches him around the neck. He finds his cheek pressed against the girl's perky chest, his right arm looping her waist and his shoulder digging into her ribs. He expects her to begin wrenching on the hold... but instead? He gets the Stooge treatment.

"H-hey! C'mon!" He swats about with his left hand, attempting to bat her offending hand away. "My dignity!"

Despite his protests, Drake is not launching any kind of sincere escape attempt. He's too curious to see what she has intended! Though if she delays too long, that hand around her waist will start to dip lower, slowly edging to her thigh.

Without Drake putting up much resistance, Irene kept teasing him, balling her free hand into a fist and grinding her knuckles against the top of Drake's head, teasing him like he was her little brother. “Why are you worried about your dignity? No one's here to make fun of you...except me,” she chided. Suddenly, she grinned evilly as she got the idea to do something even meaner. Retracting her right arm from his head, Irene placed an index finger in her mouth and worked up a saliva, coating the digit in fluid. Then, she moved her arm back down to her captive's head, letting her slimy finger pass in front of Drake's eyes as she stuck it in his ear! Irene couldn't hold back a snicker as she tortured Drake with a wet willy, the kind of playground bully tactic that would never fly in a real match. So far, she was having a blast! This was so much fun, in fact, that Irene scarcely noticed as Drake's right arm started sliding down toward her nether regions.

“Good thing you don't need to worry about your fans laughing at you over stuff like this,” Irene said, reassuringly stroking his hair with her hand before she went back to pulling up on his nose, “now oink for me, little piggy.”

"OH GOD YOU DID NOT JUST"

Drake's free hand grabs desperately at the willy-ing finger to yank it away. "Gross, gross, gross! It's like being frenched in the brain!"

His hand slips down along her thigh before his fingers found their mark, stroking against the girl's inner-thigh, working in towards the center of her hips. "But you'd probably like something like that, you... nerd!" Because she's a scientist. Pre-emptively, he adds, "Hush, I have spit on my brain, I can't think right.."

Loud, inelegant laughter escaped Irene's lungs as Domino panicked and pulled her arm away from his ears, and it only got worse as his weird 'nerd' insult hit her. It took her a few moments to draw the correlation between her fondness for the discomforting potential of a wet willy and being called a nerd.

“Oh, I get it!” Irene cheered suddenly, “the joke is that I'm a nerd, so I must have gotten bullied in school and had this happen to me. Not likely, though. Most of the bullies at my elementary school were cowards who would never dare try something like this. Still, the notion offends me, and you must be punished for expressing it.”

Irene tried to muster up a serious tone of voice when she jokingly threatened him, but the girl was feeling too tickled to even fake it. Still, for inadvertently reminding her of her horrible elementary school life, she decided to ratchet up the pain factor a little. Pressing her forearm against Domino's face, Irene rubbed it back and forth to burn and irritate his sensitive features. Regrettably, she wasn't able to keep it up for long, as she soon felt Drake's hand drawing near to the valley between her legs.

“I see what you're trying to do there!” Irene said in a tone of feigned indignation. Her arm moved away from Drake's face to grip his exploring hand, trying to stop his advance upward...