Make the Most of the Victory Fuck

As frustrating as it is to know that your winning streak has come to an end, you accept it as simply a part of the process. As well as your stratagem normally works, you can't win all the time. You find yourself flattered that Triple B seems to like what she's feeling and, of course, you are reminded of your credo. No woman left unsatisfied. This steels you. You may have lost the match but you will not break your oath. You smile to Triple B as she looks down at you with an almost predatory delight.

"If I had to lose," you say in fluent French, "then I am honored that it is to you. I will not run. I will not try to escape. Take me...I'm yours."

Triple B actually looks a bit surprised here. She's won quite a few matches in her time but most men of the EWL dread the victory fucks with her...mostly because she likes to be on top. More than one man has attempted to flee the ring rather than be ridden by her. You can also see that she is flattered by both your tribute and the full-blooded salute of your jutting erection. Still, her eyes narrow a little as she tosses away her ring garb (preferring full nudity during her rides).

"If you are trying reverse-psychology, it will not work," she teases, "I will ride you like my favorite hobby horse."

You then wink and toss your fighting trousers off of your own accord to show your willingness.

"Then hop on," you tell her, "And don't hold back. This night is for you."

This invitation seems to inflame Triple B's lust even more and she shoves you back on the mat, planting her feet hard on either side of your hips...then she sinks herself down with surprising grace for someone her size to take you fully into her. You let her see your pleasure, rocking your head back, eyes going half-lidded, giving a soft but masculine moan. Again, you know you've surprised her. This is not the reaction she normally gets, but she's liking it. She plants herself all the way down on your cock, grinding to test you rather than hurt you. You shift your hips gently with hers to stir up her insides a bit more and find her most sensitive places. Then she's raising and dropping down, giving it to you, taking direct control. It's a little harder than you'd prefer, but you concentrate on the pleasure rather than the mild pain. Your own hips are moving against her with your own lust and you look to her massive bouncing boobs (also quite a spectacle for the crowd).

"Will you permit me to suck upon your succulent bosom?" you manage between hip-slams.

"Say please," teases Triple B.

"S'il vous plaît," you say in the same tone.

Laughing, Triple B shoves her enormous tits into your face and you give them an enthusiastic grabbing and licking before sucking her nips deeply, one at a time. Triple B is now calling out in her own delight and your own cries of ecstasy are muffled in her breasts. She moves them out of the way as you and she start to cum.

"Tell them what I'm doing to you!" she shouts.

"You are making me cum!" you shout, "And I cum proudly into your magnificent pussy!"

And so you do...and as you do so Triple B gushes her orgasm over your groin, her voice hitting an operatic high note. All of her drops atop you for a moment as she gasps for breath. You can't breathe and for a moment expect that she will simply smother you to unconsciousness as is her habit with her victory fucks, but Triple B only buries you for a moment before rising. After acknowledging the crowd, she reaches down and lifts you to your feet, punctuating this with a deeply probing french kiss.

"You have talent and tenacity," she whispers afterwards, "and are truly an incredible lover. I will watch your career with interest."

Then it's over. Triple B steps out of the ring to enjoy her success and you leave for the locker room. Although you lost, you can console yourself that you at least rendered satisfaction and gained Triple B's respect.