Amy Poford vs. Armando 'Army' Rodriguez - Lover's Spat

Amy was letting Army get back up to his feet without any real hassle, and he knew the reason why. She was confident. She'd just laid down a guy almost twice her size and managed to get a two count on him, a feat that not too many girls in the AFW could ever boast.

But he had good reason to be cocky, too. As good as she'd done so far, Army knew that turning things around was just a matter of getting a hold of her. So,  in the end, time was on his side, and too much was on the line for him to go easy. Not just the ball, but bragging rights, because he knew Amy would hold a win over him until the end of times.

"Glad to see your shaking it off." He made his way back up to his feet and took  up a fighting stance, assuming a large, bulkier version of her own. "By the way, don't worry - as soon as we're done here, I'll finish what I started. If you're still conscious."

Army moved in and tried to get tricky, throwing out a quick jab towards her face before he surged in and attempted to wrap her up for their favorite move - the bearhug. A good hold, fun to do, and a great way to sap her reserves if he could land it.

Amy rolled her eyes. "How generous of you. A real man would have finished what he started then and there, but you know. Sometimes you gotta take a second swing at the ball, I guess."

Amy was sure that Army would try and put her down with a punch combo, here; she'd goaded him into trying for one, after all. After slipping around his jab, though, her plans to counter with a knee were nixed when, instead of the expected follow-up cross, Army was already there waiting to gather her up in his arms.

"Oh shit, shit-" To be honest, Amy wasn't sure if Army would try for this hold in the match, considering their agreement to avoid sexual contact in this fight. It was true; Amy had a peculiar predilection for the bearhug, a fact that Army knew and exploited, and Army did it like no one else in the league. But Army would probably have argued that the bearhug isn't actually sexual; it was Amy's personal weirdness that made it so, and he couldn't help that.

Things tended to fall to pieces when Army put her in this particular submission, but they'd never fought in front of a crowd before, so she didn't know if she could trust herself not to simply give in to her baser desires once she was locked in. So Amy struggled wildly in Army's grip, kicking her legs and writhing her body this way and that, a little afraid of what might happen if he caught her.

Army liked the bearhug, and while he knew people would argue differently, it didn't have anything to do with sex. It was just a simple, easy move for him to use and it took advantage of his natural size and upper body strength, it was easy to move into while he was standing, and it was one of the few submission moves that didn't require any agility or flexibility to set up - this one was about power. Sure, yes, Amy loved it, and having their sweaty bodies rubbing up against each other felt amazing, but it was just an effecient hold. Really.

"Patience, chica." He locked his hands and powered down on her middle, pressing her small but firm body up against his with no room to spare. "I'm all about building the tension."

Fortunately - or, unfortunately, depending on how Amy looked at it - she wouldn't have to endure the hold for too long. Army gave her one, hard squeeze, then jerked back and sent her flying over his shoulders with a belly-to-belly suplex.

"Hanh!" Amy shut her eyes as Army crushed her into his body. Amy's struggles really only made it worse. Army pressed her tight, and her writhing just increased the intensity between her shirt and his skin. You could have crushed a walnut between their stomachs.

Amy felt herself building up again, and for a moment lost her cool. "Army, hold...wait..." But the panic was premature; no sooner had she spoken than did her world suddenly become swirl up into a single color. Army had fallen backwards, whipping her over his head and behind him, flipping her as he tossed her into the mat.

Amy didn't have any time to react. She simply flew, then she simply crashed, backfirst into the mat. Amy cried out as she landed. The impact was harsh, made worse by Army's recent compression on her body; shock seized her systems, and, after briefly arching her back against the pain, she settled back down against the mat, spreadeagle, briefly dazed, and breathing hard. Army would have precious few moments to capitalize before Amy would try and return to her feet, groaning all the way.

Amy felt so good pressed up against him that Army really was sorely tempted to let the hold linger for  a little while and just enjoy the moment. But they had important business to deal with today, so they'd have to explore the sexual applications of the bearhug later - it was time for her to fly.

Army had been practicing his moves lately, and the belly-to-belly was one he'd been working on hard with Carmen. With his size and strength, suplexes were a natural go-to, and he'd been trying to get the timing of the release just right. There was still some work to be done, and he messed it up as much as he made it work with opponents Carmen's size, but with a little thing like Amy? It worked like a dream.

It gave him a good chance to follow up, too, and he immediately went for it. Army hopped back right as Amy was settling into the floor and got in position beside her. He brought his arm up, did a quick flex, and came down on her chest with an elbow drop, bringing the tip crashing down towards her chest.

Amy saw the arena lights darken and knew something bad was about to happen. Still recovering from the suplex, Amy braced herself by bringing her arms up in a shield over her head, unable to do much else, .

Unfortunately, the attack fell in the center of her chest. It was like Army had driven a nail into her sternum- using a refrigerator for a hammer. Amy's eyes grew wide and her body thrashed, her legs kicking, her head tossing from side to side. Her mouth shot open; it expelled a noisy wheeze at first, but quickly fell silent as the agony choked off the sound of her voice. Then her expression changed- her eyes shut tight, and lip met teeth in an attempt to express her anguish in a single word. "F... f... ff... fu..." Her arms would drop down protectively over her chest- or as close as they could, depending on Army's positioning over her after his drop.

If there was one thing that Army knew about Amy, above all else, it was that she absolutely, positively, unquestionably hated to be taken lightly. She didn't want to be held back on, she wanted the full fight, and that was one of the things they had in common. One of the many thing he respected about her

But, all the same, while Army didn't have a problem hurting her in a fight, he realized that there was a line to avoid crossing, and that he could do her some real harm if things went too far. That had to be avoided. He wasn't going to hold back, but he wouldn't shy away from ending the match fast if he had the choice.

As soon as he'd landed from the elbow drop, he reached over and grabbed her legs, scooping her up for a pin. "Fuck. You trying to say 'fuck'?"

"1...!"

Amy stopped trying to talk. He got it; she could save her breath. She nodded and patted Army’s cheek appreciatively. Then she grit her teeth and pulled her legs even further in toward her body.

Two!

Steeling herself, Amy powered up and out with her legs, kicking out of the pin with a shout. The crowd's reaction was a familiar mix of frustrated awws and triumphant shouts, but the excitement was a little higher, the volume a little louder, since the last pin attempt. The escape pushed her over on to her stomach, and she began to try to return to her feet, using the ropes to help her up, chest still aching like she'd gotten shot. She could still pull this off; she’d just have to return to basics. Hit and run, duck and weave. She just needed not to get hit so much anymore. And don’t let up the pressure to make taunts! …even if they’re really good ones.

Somehow, Army knew Amy was going to kick out. He wasn't sure if he'd have been dissappointed or surprised if she didn't, but it was a moot point, now. Things just weren't going to be that easy with her. Ever.

"All right, no pinfall for you. Got it." He rolled to his feet and made his way, just in time to watch her do the same...or try to, at least. She was having a slow go of it, and it made her way too tempting of a target to just ignore.

Army reached over and grabbed her wrist again, this time trying to send her off with an Irish Whip to the  nearest corner. He wanted her isolated, needed to get her in a good spot and hold her there while he poured on the heavy damage. The less space she had to move, the quicker he could wrap this up and focus on satisfying her other needs...

Amy thought she had a handle on this whole Irish whip thing. Given enough time to react, she felt as though she had the agility to avoid pretty much anything. A kick or clothesline? Just slide under. Getting thrown into a corner? She could jump up and kick off the post, easy.

Unfortunately for her, the closest corner to the two of them now was quite close. Even worse, it was behind them. Army had taken her wrist and swung her in a near complete circle to throw her into that corner, full momentum; no time to react at all. No time even to turn around and take the punishment on her back.

"Gah!" She crashed chest first into the post, relighting the dulling pain there, and completely resetting any progress made in catching her breath. Her arms draped over the top ropes, and she slumped against them, her head resting against the turnbuckle. Though her body was sluggish, her brain was in full on emergency mode. She needed to get out of the corner. She needed to get some distance. At first opportunity, she'd slip out of the ring. But, for now, she couldn't do anything but rest and wait.