change off to a camel clutch

With all the speed you can muster, you release her legs and spin around on top of her, lifting her arms behind your knees. She screams now as you pull back hard with one hand under her chin and the other hand working over her right breast beneath her top. Her soft, middle-aged skin feels firm but flexible and is squeezed and twisted like playdough.

She's almost crying now as you occasionally relieve the pressure just to pour it on moments later.

You release her and she flops down onto the mat in a sweaty mess, breathing heavily. You pick her up by her hair and throw her into the turnbuckle. Her soft belly is exposed and you take full advantage with it, laying a few well centered blows with your fists. Her stomach is not as tight as it once was, so the punches immediately meet with give and the air is leaving her much more quickly than it is entering.

You take a few steps back to appreciate your handy work when the crowd begins boo-ing with intense hatred for you. You face them and start shouting obsceneties and making rude hand gestures, unaware that your opponent has gained a second wind and is sneaking up behind you.

Suddenly, your legs give out as she kicks behind your knees. You're on your back now as she jumps on top of you with a low school boy pin.

"So you like to play with my tits, eh?" she says coldly. "Well here, play some more!" And with that, you find yourself completely smothered by her massive mamories. It's warm, quiet, and soft as the air just can't seem to find it's way inside of you. You're passing out. You have to think of something.