Everyone needs a Soak Now and Again (for Teesta)

"Oh what was that Peyton? Sorry I didn't hear you, though it seems you've found something else to occupy your mouth." Natasha sounded outright playful and delighted despite the firm grip the red head had on her waist. Her ribs were definitely aching in that bear hug she was stuck in, a testamount to the power Peyton had in that amazing body of hers, but even so the Frenchwoman couldn't help but enjoy herself with Peyton's face buried in her breasts. Her own hold on the woman wasn't anything to laugh at though, Natasha kept constricting Peyton's midsection with her long, powerful legs that had taken out numerous other challengers in her career. Breathing was something she wanted to make difficult for Peyton if possible.

Peyton though wasn't going to make anything easy on the champion and that was exactly what Natasha wanted, or at least thats what she had been thinking before Peyton slammed her down onto the rubbery floor. Her legs loosened from around the red head's waist as she slumped to the floor, groaning from the pain shooting through her back for a few seconds until it began to fade.

"You call that rough?" Natasha shot back weakly before she tried to sit up, only for Peyton to make a grab for her bottoms while she was recovering. She was too sluggish to save them as the woman snatched them away but she kicked at Peyton to prevent the leg splitter, trying to knock the woman back while she scrambled to her knees.

Peyton had a look of satisfaction on her face as Natasha had been slammed hard onto the mat. If she was going to start playing a game of strength against her, Peyton knew she had the upperhand. And she knew the next step to get ahead in the match was to get those bottoms off of Natasha, which she was able to do before she recovered from the spinebuster.

McKee took a moment to admire Natasha's love box, glee filling her heart that it would be all hers soon enough. That moment may have cost her though, because as she went to apply the leg splitter, the blue-haired babe managed to shove her away with a kick. Peyton scowled in discouragement and then scoffed. "Keep talking babe, because when I start fucking you as rough as I can, you won't have the voice to say a word!" taunted McKee who then went to make her next move.

She would try to grab at the absurdly thin top of the French chick in an effort to pull her forward so she could try to hit a headbutt. She figured a girl like Natasha, while she tried to act like a tough girl, didn't have a clue about how to actually be tough. And if Peyton could surprise her with a move like that, McKee had a good feeling that she could capitalize on it in a big way.

Glancing down at herself Natasha did a quick inventory and found the results less than reassuring. She was now missing her bikini bottoms entirely and one half of her top had been tugged down exposing one of her full, heavy breasts to the predatory eyes of the red head across from her. She supposed she could just fix it real quick while Peyton was talking but Natasha wasn't a fan of putting clothing back on once it had been stripped off, even if it was just out of place. "Lots of big promises Peyton, I'm curious to find out if you can deliver on them or not. I know I certainly can back up all of mine...such as oh I don't know, that I'll be riding your face once I've won."

Peyton's arm shot forward slipping her fingers beneath one of the strips of fabric that made up her bikini top, giving it a hard tug that yanked Natasha forward while Peyton moved to meet her halfway with a headbutt. Natasha let her experience kick in as rather than meet that probably hard as rock head of hers directly she opted to launch herself forward, pushing off the floor with her knees to bring her shoulder up to smack it right into Peyton's forehead.

Peyton McKee seemed to let all of Natasha's claims brush right past her. She never was one to succumb to smack talk as she had usually been used to dishing it out herself. Besides that, she was doing more productive things. Like trying to win and more specifically trying to yank that ridiculous bikini of her opponent's to put her in perfect position to kick the blue-haired bombshell's nicely toned ass. And when she yanked on that fabric, Natasha went forward, but Peyton wasn't sure if she miscalculated or Natasha had actually been a bit quicker, but Peyton did not meet the girl's head like she wanted. She met her shoulder.

And then Peyton met the mat. She fell back and put a hand to her forehead. "The wha...?" she murmured before shaking her head clear. That kinda hurt. Peyton didn't get it. This sexfighting champ was able to counter that, but she didn't expect her to have moves, let alone be able to scout a brutish move like that. The missed headbutt had managed to leave Peyton at a disadvantage as she started to lift her shoulders off the mat. "How in the hell...?" she asked dumbly as she focused surely close to when Natasha would follow up on her counter.

Natasha's instincts kept them from figuring out which of them had the thicker skull, at least for the moment, but considering that meant one less headache for the Frenchwoman she was happy to push that discovery down the road. The unexpected collision with Natasha's shoulder had laid Peyton out flat on her back, leaving Natasha on her hands and knees beside her. The woman's bikini was calling out to the bluenette who was feeling like evening the score with Peyton, but before she made a move on Peyton's swimsuit she needed to impress just how rough she could be too.

"Oh? Surprised? I did tell you I liked it rough remember?" She teased while turning to face Peyton's side, making a grab for the woman's wrist to put her in an arm bar with Natasha's legs squeezing the woman's pillowy breasts like a vice grip between them. Natasha would cross her ankles to apply the most pressure she could and if she locked it in she'd use one hand to tug at Peyton's bikini top.

Peyton immediately came out of her daze when Natasha grabbed her wrist to try and lock in an arm bar. She yelped and started to kick her hips to try and pull herself away, but the blunette was determined to keep in her hold. "Lucky little..." muttered McKee. She did not want to be caught in this position, especially since this girl seemed like she had an idea of what she was doing more than the average chick that the American girl would face.

Then Loclear brought her legs up onto Peyton's body and she started to panic more, then let out a yell when Natasha pinched her luscious breasts between her legs. The one draw back about having a big chest: more chest meat to hurt. "You damn... Yip!" shouted Peyton as the breast scissor was locked on, but McKee fought like mad to keep Natasha from actually being able to lock in the arm bar. The muscles in her arm were bulging as Peyton rolled over onto her side as much as she could to keep Natasha from yanking back and getting the move in, which was becoming increasingly more difficult with how hard she was applying pressure to her lovely breasts. Peyton groaned and whined, but then noticed that Natasha was tugging on her bikini top. The redhead's breasts bounced out of the tiny black bikini top, but were still crushed between the smooth, shapely legs of the French woman.

With each yank and struggle, McKee's now exposed boobs jiggled and bounced, sweat now dripping down them from the warmth in the sauna. Still, Peyton kept herself from being totally locked in the hold, disallowing the arm bar and flailing her free arm around briefly before using it to start pulling herself up. She was trying desperately, letting out a couple whines as she fought, trying to stand as upright as possible to make it harder for Natasha to keep the hold locked on, but as she fought McKee's breasts were only hurt that much more. She winced, slowly trying to make her way up to her feet in a hunched over position to force the leverage off of her experienced opponent.

This was one of Natasha's signature moves and one of her favorites to use on the many well endowed women the league had to offer, especially when those women were quite proud of their chests just like Peyton was. Course she had every right to be proud of her rocking body, even when compared to the legendary bodies Natasha had been in the ring, and sometimes in bed, with Peyton's stood out as particularly impressive. Not just that but imposing too, the only fat the woman had was in her tits and ass, a hard body that any fighter would dream to have and fear facing off against. Natasha was a proud woman as well however and as good as Peyton seemed to be the Frenchwoman was just thrilled to be facing someone of such a high caliber.

Peyton might notice some of that enthusiasm the champion had in the power of her submission move, Natasha's powerful legs snapped shut around the red head's breasts and not giving an inch even as Peyton started to get to her feet. A few tugs in the right directions was all it took to free Peyton's ample mounds, Natasha tossing the black bikini top away so she could go for a better grip on Peyton's arm instead.

It helped her secure the hold for a few seconds longer but the higher Peyton climbed the harder it became to hold onto those tits. Another few seconds and Natasha faced getting some payback from Peyton if she didn't break the hold so she did just that, unlocking her legs and kicking out at Peyton's breasts so she could roll backwards and get to her feet in a low crouch.

Peyton whined as Natasha continued to lock in the hold on her arm and her breasts, now bare and increasingly more red as the time went on. Girls would tend to focus on her breasts, and most times Peyton never blamed them. They were incredible, after all, but it always served to tick her off a little bit more than the usual when they would dare hurt them like this. And as Peyton stood, it took some time before Natasha released her, thankfully, but Peyton, already at the ready, was fired up even in her pain (and probably because of it).

So when the French chick rolled back in a crouching position, Peyton was already ready to make the charge and attempt to hit her with a big kick to the face. Peyton figured she could nurse her wounds much better if Natasha weren't all over her once again, and a stiff kick to the face was usually enough to keep McKee's opponents down and at her mercy. She just had to hope she could get the jump on her enough to make it happen.

Peyton served as an excellent springboard for Natasha who kicked off of the woman's chest to propel herself away from the fiery red head, the Frenchwoman in no way eager to see just how ferocious the woman's payback would be. She had stumbled out of the gate in this bout but the last exchange definitately belonged to her, now she just needed to keep Peyton on the defensive, which would prove difficult given she was already charging her when she came out of the roll. Natasha had to react in an instant, relying on pure instinct and experience as she swung her right arm up to shove the leg aside. It was almost enough but she didn't twist her body out of the way and took the kick on her shoulder, throwing Natasha into a spin that left her sprawled out on her front.

Her shoulder was throbbing from the kick and her head had bounced off the barely padded floor leaving her with a small headache. Yet Peyton would see the champion smiling through the pain, Natasha pushing her way back up onto one knee.

Peyton managed to barely connect with the blue-haired girl, and she cursed that the champion managed to dodge the brunt of it. Still, McKee, wasn't done as she saw Natasha start to get up again, smiling at her. Peyton, in the meantime, shook out her arm that the girl was working over and McKee then smiled widely back at her. "Glad you're still having fun," said Peyton sarcastically.

She then put on her game face to rush at Natasha yet again and throw her hip directly into the face of Loclear, hoping to knock her down again. And if anything could knock her down, it would certainly be the perfectly sculpted booty of Peyton. Because while she was proud of her tits, she loved her ass as well, keeping it nice and toned to catch the eye, and in this case the face, of her opponent.