Eileen Sommers vs. Dmitri Markov Voronov - The Fairer Sex

Here was where things got complicated.

Dmitri was in a relationship of sorts with another redhead, one who was no less dangerous than the one currently sliding up his body, though for entirely different reasons. While he wouldn’t say she was his girlfriend, or that they were explicitly at that part of a relationship, he had a distinct feeling that it was in his general best interest for her to not see him writhing around beneath some other woman. Not good for his long term health. Even though this was a dark match, things had a way of finding their way about the interest, especially in the AFW.

It all ended up with him underneath Eileen, still and unmoving, utterly unsure of how to move forward. He scooted back a bit, trying to get comfortable as she straddled him and propped up on his elbows, but those were reflexive actions. His brain wasn’t sure what to do, but his body had a few ideas.

”I…” He stammered, blinked, stammered again. ”Look, you’re pretty and all, but I’m not-”

The position was one of intimacy, and had you ignored what had occurred thus far in their fight, you'd be forgiven for suspecting things were about to get a little...

R Rated.

Her gaze still mostly askew, hands pushing on Dmitri's shoulders not in a dominant fashion but more in a 'I-suggest-you-lie-down sense,' the crowd themselves found themselves mostly agape at what they were witnessing. Those that didn't have their mouths wide were too busy switching their phones to camera mode. Especially those seated right behind Eileen.

Giggling as if she was a blushing schoolgirl victim of the first compliment in her life, Eileen looked down a little as her eyes closed fully a moment.

"You're not so bad yourself...but...

Her finger pressing firmly to Dmitri's lips as the 'but' was spoken, Eileen slowly lifted her legs akin to a leopard preparing to pounce. Of course, the idea is that Dmitri wouldn't even notice the loosening of weight on his thighs, given Eileen's hair flowing down would obscure the most of his view.

That and her dangling chest of course.

"Shhh..."

Once more with a final attempt at making Dmitri completely placid, Eileen would go for broke.

Broke being, suddenly shifting herself forward atop her prey. Firm cheeks now upon the utmost top point of his torso, womanhood pressing to Dmitri's chin.

Rightfully so, the crowd was appreciative of just the effort.

Time seemed to slow down. Or speed up. It was hard to really tell which.

He was certainly more away of things, like the tightening in his boxer and the relief that his billowy pants would likely conceal the source of said tightness. He was aware of the way her body felt slight sliding up his chest, her hot breath over his face, the heat where their skin touched.

Then, all of the sudden, he was aware that she seemed tall. Much taller than him. That she was looking down, straight down, at him, and that her plush behind was perched on his chest, that her full weight was pinning him to the floor, and that the referee was kneeling beside them to make sure his shoulders weren’t pinned. He wasn’t quite sure when he’d gotten in that position, but sure enough, there he was.

He started to struggle, gritted his teeth to push her off, but the match had taken its toll on him. He was weaker now, sluggish, couldn’t summon up the required energy, and wasting it in the effort wasn’t helping one bit. The more he fought, the more it became clear he wasn’t going anywhere.

Not unless she wanted him to, at least. Somehow, he doubted that was in her plans. ”Get...get off!”

Now that Eileen had gained her posture, she'd be damned before she lost it without a monumental effort. Her efforts at disguising her manoeuvre had seemingly gone perfectly, as Dmitri's efforts to restrain the woman only came at the last possible second. She'd only keep her posture atop the very top point of his torso for a moment mind, if she could at least. She didn't take satisfaction from pressing her nethers directly against her foe.

Turning him into a metaphorical throne however, was a different matter altogether.

"Afraid...not..." Once more returning to that serious, blank tone from earlier moments such as when Eileen was at the receiving end of Dmitri's blows, Eileen evidently was going for broke. Hands briefly to the canvas to aid in her shuffle, she'd rise completely off her foe for but a fraction of a second before correcting her posture, now completely placed upon her face!

Without something to hold onto, the fight had come between Dmitri's efforts to buck the beauty off, and Eileen's ability to keep her weight central. She'd aim to do so by bringing her hands to her hips, leaning fully back so that the majority of her tender frame was now pressing down via her rear.

She prayed Dmitri didn't have the effort to buck her off. Not simply just because she sensed she'd struggle immensely to gain the dominant position again, but well.

A woman who appeared focused on dominance in all senses of the word being thrown from a move such as this wouldn't exactly do wonders for her reputation.

It might have looked a little silly, but a proper schoolgirl pin could be quite effective, as Dmitri was finding out firsthand. All the weight was coming down on one point, which wouldn’t have been that big of a deal if he had substantial upper body strength or if he hadn’t just gotten through a rather exhaustive wrestling match, but since he was at the end of his rope, he wasn’t close to either of those things.

He reached for the ropes with his hands, couldn’t get to them. Tried to do the same with his legs, couldn’t manage it. He attempted to knock her off with a bridge, but that accomplished nothing. That was when she shifted forward, came down on his face, and all the light went away.

It was hot and wet underneath Eileen’s bottom, but that was hardly the most distressing thing. He couldn’t breath. His mouth worked like a fish out of water, searching around for air that wasn’t there, but he could take in nothing, and her heady scent filled his nostrils.

He struggled, of course, harder than before, but he had precious little energy to summon now, and it was diminishing by the second. He was fading fast, his muffled screams were growing weaker, his legs were kicking less and less. His efforts were petering out into nothing, until all he could do was look up at Eileen with pleading eyes. After a moment, even those began to shut, his vision dimming, until…

Gone.

Weirdly enough, Eileen almost wanted Dmitri to struggle.

Not too much mind, as to risk bucking the beauty off. But enough so that Eileen looked to be a dominant goddess, forcing her prey to stay where she demanded despite his best efforts. The truth was much different of course; Dmitri was not still trapped purely because Eileen was the better. The two had worked the other into a great sweat, so tiredness had long set it. Not that Eileen would have admitted it, but her own strength had little to do with her now controlling position.

Of course, had Dmitri in fact bucked harder Eileen would of attempted to alter her position to a more feasible one. Her hands found themselves quickly unwrapping from their crossing as they pushed to her thighs, in an attempt to ensure she stayed on top. Surely enough, she did.

Those whimpers and jerking quickly fading to nothing, it didn't take much effort from the referee to realise this competitor was out. She would but raise his hand, letting it drop a single time as opposed to the usual three before deciding that such when Dmitri's air passageways was blocked would have been bordering on dangerous. Calling for the bell, Eileen herself found a calling directed at her.

Mainly, to get the hell off the poor soul.

Looking down a moment at the slurring fighter before her, Eileen's grin grow all the greater. She wouldn't leave the referee waiting long as she quickly pushed herself to the side, before rising. Time spent goading a breathless Dmitri was less time basking in her victory after all.