Smothering

As the dizziness fades away, Jonathan begins to fight back more and more vigorously. He hugs me back, squeezing my upper section between his large shoulders. Fortunately, his disadvantaged position doesn't provide good leverage, otherwise his strength would overcome me. He tries to move me and slips out and I feel like I was on a sinking boat. If the strong guy gets free I know that I could be in trouble. To stabilize my position, I make an effort to climb on top of him, but he gets it and intercepts my right leg before it moves further. Jonathan catches my thigh between his quads and squeezes it with all his power. I yelp feeling a throbing pain exploding all over from my knee to the ankle. I look down at his face and our eyes meet; he has a sadic look and is clearly enjoying the mauling of my leg. Feeling that agony, another woman would give in and beg him to stop, but I could never do that. On the opposite, I choose the hard way of fighting, struggling a lot and using tons of energy to disentangle my poor limb from that deadly hold. I'm losing confidence, when a good idea comes across my mind, probably spurred by that wild situation. Slowly, I slide upward unnoticed inch after inch, making him believe that I'm missing control but in fact skimming my leg out of his grasp. When he relaxes a bit, ready to push me away , I slide up further, smothering his face under my breast. Jonathan starts to make awkward sounds, suddenly unable to breath, and interposes his big arms to earn some space. Finally, I can get out my legs, and in doing so I linger my foot a bit around his crotch, where a bulge is growing. "Oh you enjoy wrestling a grown woman boy...", I whisper.

My words trigger a furious reaction and he rolls over. I end up under the big guy, but his middle section is between my legs now and I squeeze without mercy. He groans in pain and starts pounding my inner thigh with his elbows to get free. I try to resist, but each bang weakens my scrissor and damages even more my already buttered leg. Quickly, I move my feet onto his face and push them nastily against the guy's mouth, hoping to stop him. Jonathan makes a squeal, but immediately grabs my foot and moves backwards, applying a joint lock to my ankle. The pain explodes and it is my turn to cry out. Following my instinct, I swing right and left, and then stand up, thereby avoiding his attempt to stop me with his feet. I get on him like a flash, sitting on his bare chest and bending his big arm across his shoulder with both my hands. I'm feeling well. My female body is wrestling a bigger male opponent and contending with him every inch of ground. "Give up!", I ask, hearing that he's gasping for air under me. Of course he doesn't, and when the guy bridges to dislodge me I already know that my moves to take his arm or head would be ineffective given my precarious position. My wrestling hold has become useless and I just retreat. Jonathan immediately gets on his knees, ready to restart our crazy battle. We are both exhausted and the sweat drips down our bodies. "Are you still sure that you can win this match, boy?", I ask, breathing heavily.

He stares at me intensely; the boner is well in sight under the pants. "I see that you finally realize how strong this woman is...", I continue. "You're not stronger than me....", he replies, with an almost quivering voice that makes me even wetter. "Maybe yes...maybe not. You almost had me more than once but I made you feel my deadly chokes. The point is that I'm fighting you equally, and despite the physical weakness of a woman I nearly defeated you. So, I want an pology and we can say that it's a draw!". I hold my breath but he seems irresolute. I am happy with the outcome so far though and almost certain that if we restarted he would destroy me eventually. He needs an incentive. "Listen, you're a strong guy, I knew that from the beginning. Strong and technical. Your physic is just sturdy. But after our confrontation, you have to admit that I can compete. Come on...probably you will win in the end, but what if I do? Do you want to be photographed under the feet of an older woman? Your reputation would be shattered", I ask winkling. "If I wanted I could bend your delicate ankles in half lady..." he replies. I tremble, bracing myself for the worst and feeling a weird tickling over my feet. "But you're right, why taking the risk? I apologize. You are way stronger than I thought. Let's call it a draw", he concludes.