The Best Day Ever

Feeling just as eager as Mariah, Faheema took her hands off the woman just long enough to cradle her down to the canvas, believing that she didn't need to keep Mariah suspended across her outstretched knee any longer. Keeping her trapped in that position had undoubtedly made Faheema feel and look powerful, but it couldn't have been too comfortable for her victim, growing visibly desperate for the Nubian to finally get her off. Not to mention the change in position gave Faheema more space to bring her lips to Mariah's sex without having to bend at an angle that torqued her own spine.

“Cum for me, Mariah,” were the last words from the Nubian's lips before she leaned down and wrapped them around Mariah's clitoris, lapping at the shy little bulb with her tongue while her soaked fingers returned to her pussy, pumping into it deeper and harder than before. Her free hand went towards Mariah's head, palming blindly at her face before her index and middle finger started pushing against Mariah's lips, trying to force their way in to grind against her tongue. Why Faheema did this was hard for even her to say. This was an appealing environment to experiment with her desires, being a practice match with two experienced women, and she had decided in a moment of horny inspiration that forcing the smaller woman to suck on her fingers would add an element of humiliation to make Mariah's heart race just a little faster.

The two fingers between Mariah's lower lips kept up a fast pace, sinking as deep as they could and spreading apart like a pair of scissors being opened. Between her probing digits and her mouth devoted to playing her clitoris like an instrument, it wouldn't be long before Mariah finally popped. Only after drawing the climax out for as long as possible would Faheema finally allow herself to rest, leaving her and Mariah in an exhausted pile on the canvas for the moment.

Stirring, Faheema shuffled to her feet, trying to beckon Mariah up with her by using the fingers still hooked in her mouth to tug up on her jaw, holding her head in that hand the way someone might hold a bowling ball. Just to inflame a desire in Bubbles to reassert her authority when she climbed into the ring, Faheema dragged her wife toward the corner with the same grip, delivering her in creatively embarrassing fashion.

“It's your turn, Bubbles. Hold on for five minutes, and you'll have your wife back to join the fight,” Faheema said, her voice cracking with excitement as she shuffled backwards to take a stand at the ring's center. While nothing could beat that transformative first experience with both women in the bedroom of their apartment, this rematch with Bubbles would prove to be a close second. Another chance to fight the greatest opponent of her young life, even though her chances of success were diminishingly small this time. The formidable strength and size of Bubbles, with the imminent involvement of her wife.

When Bubbles stepped up to meet Faheema, the Nubian raised her arms up, fingers outstretched in an unmistakable invitation for a test of strength. It wasn't good strategy to provoke a strength contest against someone like Bubbles, but this wasn't a real match, it was about having fun as much as trying to get her practice in. She wanted to see what her muscles could do, without any tricks backing them up.

Faheema’s transition was a little awkward for Mariah - truth told, in that moment, she would’ve preferred to stay on Faheema’s knee, kept up like that, under her total control. It was a weird position, but that just made her fancy it even more. A bit of pain, a fuckton of pleasure, and all delivered by this dark, dominating destroyer of a woman - it was the kind of experience she craved, and the kind that she rarely received from anyone but her wife. While she’d still rate Bubbles higher, it was hard to deny that Faheema was coming close, damn close.

Any complaints she might have had were washed away as Faheema went back to work with this new position, and easily demonstrated the reason for the change. Mariah gasped - a loud, hoarse gasp that filled the room - as the Nubian went to work. It was no surprise that she was every bit as skilled with her tongue as she was with her fingers, and the result was electric, turning Mariah into a squirming mess on the floor.

She started to gasp again as the woman hit a particularly sweet spot, but that was interrupted when a pair of probing fingers slid past her lips. She eagerly welcome them into her mouth, taking it as another form of domination, glad to have as many parts of Faheema in her body as possible. She licked them. She sucked them. She nibbled on them.

Anything and everything to keep her body moving as her body followed Faheema’s order - she came hard, thrashing about as she gushed, thrashing on the floor like a liverwire. It was a long, drawn out one, too, one that had every muscle in Mariah’s body swelling and surging, and she didn’t come down from it gentle, either. Little tremors tore through her, aftershocks as Faheema laid on top of her, basking in the intense afterglow.

Mariah was in no fit state to form coherent sentences, much less get up and walk, so it was a good thing that Faheema helped back to the corner, though she would’ve preferred it in a way that didn’t nearly rip her jaw apart. She grabbed the Nubian’s wrist for leverage as she was brought over, hauled along like a cavewoman with her prized kill of the day, and dropped at the feet of her wife. Her anxious, horny, impatient wife.

”Hey.” Bubbles leaned over the ropes, looking down at Mariah with the slightest smirk, licking her lips as she did. ”How you feeling, babe?”

Mariah shot her thumbs up. ”Like I just got hit by a truck. A big, sexy truck.” She let the hand flop to the side. ”Might need more than five minutes, but we’ll see. Go get her.”

That was about all the prompting Bubbles needed. She pushed the top rope down and brought one leg over, then the other, stepping into the ring in full and immediately making her way over to Faheema, standing tall as she approached. Her ever-present smile vanished for a moment when she saw the stance her foe was taking. When was the last time a woman not her size offered her a test of strength? Hell, when was the first time.

Faheema was wild and crazy and gave zero fucks and Bubbles loved it.

”Life is good.”

She threw herself forward into a full charge, coming at Faheema with all her strength to lock up with the woman and push her hard into the ropes. Nothing held back.

Faheema betrayed the fact that she wasn't as brave or stoic as she wanted people to think, her face stretching into an expression of panic when Bubbles came at her with all the speed that her large frame could muster. She hadn't expected a bull's charge, but the Nubian quickly adapted and regained her confidence, dashing forward herself to counter momentum with momentum. Both women collided hard enough to make their bodies creak and groan under the pressure, but when the dull thud of their impact faded, both women still stood, resolute and unmoving...for almost half a minute.

Soft grunts that built in intensity reached Mariah at the corner as Faheema gave everything she had to move Bubbles backwards. She fought with an intensity that Bubbles would see in the focused glare the Nubian was giving her...but her desire was not enough. Faheema had wrestled against full-grown cattle that didn't put up as much fight as Bubbles, and as the African warrior read her opponent, it was clear that this stalemate wasn't draining Bubbles to the same extent as it was to her. Bubbles would win; it was just a question of how badly Faheema tired herself out before it happened.

Uttering a hot, heavy sigh of resignation, the Nubian started stepping backwards, letting Bubbles guide her towards the ring's edge. Their foreheads were touching, now, braced against each other, and Faheema decided that she wasn't above pressing her lips to Bubbles to steal a quick kiss while they were moving. A quick smooch to show her affection...and distract the bigger woman from the surprise that was about to be sprung on her.

When both women got within arm's reach of the ropes, Faheema gave the last burst of strength that her simmering core could manage, holding Bubbles at bay for the moment it took her to climb and position herself atop the ropes. As soon as she was up, Faheema quickly shifted her grip to pull one of Bubbles' arms out, then snapped her legs shut around the large woman's neck to trap her in something resembling a triangle choke. This was a touch worse, however, as Faheema completed her move by falling backwards and hanging over the opposite side of the ring, letting gravity add to the pain of the hold. Usually a referee would be stepping in by this point, but there didn't seem to be one in this secluded engagement. What a shame!

Seeing that little panic on Faheema’s face just made Bubbles drive that much harder for her. It couldn’t be helped. She’d always felt like something of a huntress in the ring, and while she was perfectly fine having her way with women who were more than willing to let her have it, there was a thrill in the prowl that she couldn’t ignore. Having this size, this power, made it so easy to just take what you wanted, and she wanted so much from Faheema. Craved it.

To her credit, Faheema didn’t beat a full retreat like many women would’ve. Didn’t sidestep. Didn’t go for some fancy counter. No, she attempted to take Bubbles head on, and didn’t do as poorly as 99% of the human race would’ve. Their body’s crashed into each other, filling the room with the sound of slapping flesh, and she actually managed to hold her ground for a moment. Impressive stuff. Really.

But it was just a moment. It could only be a moment. That was about all Faheema could hold out before the unstoppable force began to move, and Bubbles’ superior weight and strength won out. She took one step, then another, then another, closing in on the far side of the ring. As slow as continental drift, but also as inevitable. Faheema must’ve known it, too, because her only response was a kiss as they moved on, one that Bubbles was all too happy  to reciprocate.

She pulled away, leaving a tendril of saliva between them, and was about to respond with something sultry, when the Nubian turned into a flurry of action. She was exploding, leaping up with a wild burst of energy, going over the ropes and taking Bubbles arm with her. The Virgin Killer didn’t think too much of it at first - highflyers had tried to do stuff like this on her hundreds of times, and it always failed.

Faheema was more hardy than the typical highflyer, however, and was more than capable of getting her legs up and around Bubbles’ head and clamped down. Gravity did the rest, as she suddenly found herself dangling over the top rope, yelping as her opponent threatened to pull her arm clean out of its socket.

“Hahahaha...yes,” Faheema hummed softly as she locked her sinewy thighs around Bubbles' head and tugged the blonde's bulging bicep against her chest, happily letting her weight hang from the woman's shoulder joint like a lemur swinging on a tree branch. Any control that she could assert over a bigger, stronger woman was a cause for joy to her, and she expressed that joy willingly, smiling up at Bubbles with a grin that threatened some smugness on her part. Being her captive had been surprisingly enjoyable, but now it was time for the Nubian to start showing Bubbles the ferocity that had kept her alive thus far.

With Bubbles' forearm at her disposal, Faheema shifted her grip, taking a tight hold just above her wrist, her free arm going to grasp the digits of Bubbles' trapped hand. Biting her lip in anticipation, Faheema pulled up on Bubbles' wrist, hyperextending it until her hand and arm were almost perpendicular to each other. From there, it was a simple twisting motion with both her arms to crank the Virgin Killer's wrist and elbow joints past their usual range of motion, taking care not to pour on the pressure all at once. This wasn't a survival situation, and despite her playfully menacing demeanor, she wasn't out to cripple anyone today.

“It was customary for attackers to beg me for mercy at this point. I'm waiting...” Faheema cooed, licking her lips as she jerked Bubbles' arm suddenly, sending a jolt of pain through it. The constriction of her legs around Bubbles' neck remained firm, intending to hold her as long as it took for this bronze goddess to break and submit to her.

Occasionally, Faheema's eyes flicked in Mariah's direction, though she could barely see the sidelined partner from her upside-down position on another side of the ring. She was a little conceited, thinking that she had Bubbles at her mercy, instead curious if her wife would try to interfere. Faheema knew she would have, had it been her in the corner.

Bubbles could admit, this one took her by surprise. Granted, it would’ve taken her by surprise if it came from just about anyone - she’d never been that good with submission holds, really, and that applied to execution and prediction. But she wouldn’t have guessed that Faheema was so good at busting out a move like this - she knew the woman was good, but this seemed like something a wrestler could only pick up after years of hard training, not just off the streets. The Nubian had some real talent, even a bruiser like Bubbles could see it. If anyone doubted that, all they had to do was look at her current predicament.

It was a good thing the two of them were on friendly terms, because she could sense how poorly this could be going, how easily this would could do some real damage if she wanted. Even with her strength it was a hard thing to endure, and she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t tempted to give in to Faheema’s demands. If this had been a normal match, she very well would’ve tapped out. A single win wasn’t worth it. She looked over to her side, a quick glance, and she could see her wife was still wiped out from the first round with Faheema. Even she’d wanted to come to the rescue, that wasn’t going to be in the cards.

But that wouldn’t do, not here, not when the promise of tagteaming Faheema was in the balance. The prospect of ravaging the body that was currently wrecking her arm was just too much to ignore. She was getting out of this, and there was only one way she could think to do it: Brute force.

Bubbles slammed her feet down on the canvas, bracing them wide to give her a strong, stable base. Taking a deep breath - as deep as she could while being choked - she summoned the power in her back and lifted Faheema up in the hold, suspending her in the air even as she clamped down on the deadly vice. Wibbling one way, wobbling the other, she took a tentative step away from the ropes, then another, until they were both clear…

...and then she kicked her legs out, dropped to her butt, and slammed Faheema into the canvas with all the force and fire she could muster.

Without the dire circumstances that would normally pressure her to go for the kill, Faheema was glad that she got to simply experiment with her prey a little. It was freeing, that lack of pressure, letting her playful side be seen. She shifted her grip again, releasing Bubbles' fingers only to interlock them with her own. Holding her lover's hand, an especially flirtatious way to secure the trapped limb as she used the grip to bend Bubbles' wrist backwards, hyperextending the joint even more!

As her wrenching grasp drew more desperate cries from Bubbles, Faheema's doubts began to fall away, and she allowed herself the folly of believing that she had won this fight. Only the legalities would have kept this move from cinching the win in a real match, and with the leverage on her side, she didn't think Bubbles had the strength to get free.

Underestimating the Virgin Killer's strength was always a bad choice, though, something Faheema would be reminded of when she felt Bubbles brace herself for the miracle she was about to perform.

“You can't,” Faheema snarled, jerking the woman's bronze arm sideways as she felt her own body starting to rise higher! It wasn't the first time Bubbles had escaped her using raw power, but there was something especially unbelievable about this. What pain must she have been in as she strained for her freedom? Eager to punish the escape attempt, Faheema added to that pain by pumping her legs angrily, smushing Bubbles' face into a caricature between her thighs. Nothing less than snapping the arm would stop this, however, and the Nubian knew she wasn't going to go there. She would have to take her lumps as Bubbles hoisted her straight into the air, cleared the ropes, and then dropped her.

“Guuh!” Faheema howled as the Virgin Killer brought her down with thunderous force, shaking the ring under their combined weight. Her bones rattled with the imact, leaving her dazed, sore, and very immobile on the canvas.

“Witchcraft...” Faheema muttered, scowling at the ceiling.

”I can.”

Bubbles growled her defiant words as she lifted Faheema up, fighting for every inch of height, summoning her entire body for the effort. It would’ve been a hefty task even with a willing subject, and her foe was the furthest thing from that. Faheema made sure this painful feat was far more painful, as she fought and punished her in the hold, threatening to take the arm clean off. Bubbles couldn’t keep from crying out as her face was mauled and mashed between Faheema’s iron thighs, gripped so tight that she thought her skull might crack. Insane pain. Sheer agony.

But she never stopped rising. For all of Bubbles’ bubbliness, she could be a determined woman with the right motivation to push her own, and the thought of getting Faheema down and going crazy on her with her wife’s aide was too tantalizing a treat to let slip. She ground her teeth down hard, so hard they hard, and kept lifting. Up, up, up, until…

The crash was meteoric, so loud that it left Bubbles’ ear ringing. She went rolling away after it connected, cradling her battered arm as she cried out, tensing it to make sure it was still working properly - but she was better off than Faheema. The woman seemed to be in shellshock as she laid there, staring up at the ceiling with those beautiful eyes of hers. Kind of a boring thing to look at, really, but not a problem - Bubbles had just the thing to improve the scenery.

Scrambling forward, she straddled Faheema’s waist, pinning her to the canvas as she took position. Bubbles reached down with her good hand, grabbed her foe by the back of her head, and pushed her face deep with her cleavage, wrapping her arms tight around the neck to create a tight, sweaty breast smother. At the same time, she tried to roll over on her back and pull the dusky beauty on top of her, looking to wrap her mighty thighs around her waist and trap her with a tight bodyscissor.

A bit more technical of a move than she liked to use in matches like this, but she didn’t see much way around it. There was no way she could let Faheema get free again.

“AAUH!” Faheema howled as her downward flight ended in agony, her spine rocked from head to tailbone as she landed back-first under the immense combined weight of both women! It left her twitching and gasping for breath on the canvas, trying furiously to move away from the sexual menace in front of her but finding it hard to motivate her body into motion. All she gave was a grunt of resignation as the titanic body of her foe settled squarely and securely on top of her.

Bubbles would feel a little resistance as Faheema tried to keep her head from being drawn into the embrace of her opponent's chest. She was so weak, though, and Bubbles' arms were as formidable as her bust. The struggle barely made a difference as the Nubian's face was dragged into the darkness between her foe's breasts, and her effort to catch her breath slowed to a crawl.

“Nnngh!” Faheema moaned irritably as Bubbles executed a roll to swap their positions, easily dragging Faheema along for the ride. Her arms had been wedged beneath the Virgin Killer's legs before, so there was no opportunity to pull them free as the woman's bulging thighs pressed them firmly against her sides, leaving her struggling to breathe, in great discomfort, and most notably to the prideful woman, utterly helpless.

“Mmm...mmm!” the Nubian whined, her voice reverberating through Bubbles' cleavage as her legs thrashed and pounded at the canvas. If Bubbles was attentive enough, she might notice the slowly rising pitch of Faheema's muffled voice, or the frequency of her heart's palpitations as they throbbed against her lower stomach. Faheema herself was noticing it too, grappling with the realization that she was actually enjoying this turn of events, tempted to simply let herself be held in the warm embrace of this strong but loving woman. It was impressive enough that the mighty Nubian couldn't move a single muscle from the waist up, but only someone like Bubbles could do that and make her grateful for the privilege.

”Heh.” Bubbles had a deep, dark chuckle, one that no doubt left Faheema’s face rattling. ”Starting to think you have a thing for smothering, girl.”

It was a fairly safe assumption, given the way she’d reacted to the facesitting last night. The dark beauty was a deviant in so many ways, but that smothering, that control, clearly turned a key in her that not much else could. Bubbles was tempted to take that same avenue and plant her rear on the woman’s face again - and hell, the day was young, she just might. But she was a big gal, and she had so many ways to use that bigness to knock someone out. Might as well spice it up, right?

And it was being appreciated. Bubbles Burste knew when a woman was enjoying her attention, and holy fuck, was Faheema enjoying this.

So she squeezed. Harder. Longer. She crossed her legs into a figure-four position, then bore down with even more force, compacting her opponent’s innards. It wasn’t all she did - she would let up every few seconds, give Faheema a second or two of respite, only to clamp down even harder before.

And she made sure her breast smother was secure, too, though she wasn’t content to leave Faheema in that position. She eased up on the hold, just a little. Not enough to let her free, not just yet, but enough for her to lift her head up and see the smile on Bubbles’ face. The way she was licking her lips.

”Let me hear that scream again.” She whispered and flexed her thighs, cutting deep into Faheema’s muscle. ”Gimme a good one.”