Tag her out.

Why Melody wants to stay in and be facefucked is beyond you, but you can’t let her be humiliated again after all the matches she’s lost. You reach in and tag her hand.

“And John bails out Melody!” the announcer (perhaps unnecessarily) calls out.

Aphrodite immediately pulls herself away, and Melody climbs out of the ring, cursing in frustration. Looking up at you, the brunette Goddess crooks a finger, grinning wickedly.

It’s time to face the music. Resignedly, you duck in and lean back against the turnbuckle, allowing her to trap your head between her thighs and the turnbuckle just as she did to Melody a moment ago.

The taste of her is overpowering as she smothers you with her pussy, and the musk of sex is heavy in the air. You don’t start licking her, but she doesn’t need you to: few can match Aphrodite’s skills as a sexfighter, and she knows exactly how to pump and grind and rub herself against you to extract maximum pleasure from your submission. As expected, when the buzzer goes off to signal twenty seconds of dominance, she ignores it entirely as she pursues an orgasm —at the expense of every last scrap of your dignity.

When she finally gets it, she finishes quietly as usual; the only warning sign is a hitch in her rapid breathing before a powerful climax splatters your face with girlcum. Aphrodite stays mounted on your face for a few seconds longer, moaning as she rides out the waves of pleasure, then pulls away slowly to let you stand up.

“That was...chivalrous of you,” she laughs. “One wonders if you were jealous of your partner’s position under my divine pussy.”

You’re too embarrassed to reply as the crowd laughs and your opponent struts back to her corner, but Melody whispers in your ear, drawing your attention away from the fact that your team has lost a point for domination.