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Chapter 3 by RosyBoy RosyBoy

Time for your first match?

Goldie's first match.

It’s the day of your first match and you anxiously wait in the locker room. Your sunflower blonde locks, which flow down to your shoulders, practically glow under the fluorescent lights. You’re wearing a leopard-print halter top, that stops just below your breasts, with a neckline that offers a great view of your bountiful chest. Your toned abs are on full display, something you’re very proud of, being able to maintain a glorious body despite being forty. As you flex and stretch, your muscular tanned body shines and sparkles. Your tight and short black trunks barely keep your plump and firm booty in check. You wrinkle your button nose, as you adjust your brown cowgirl boots and black knee pads. You decide to give yourself one more visual check. You fluff your hair, pout your lips, and give yourself a caramel-eyed wink in the mirror. You are looking like a superstar. You stick a finger on your tush and make a sizzling sound, just as you are called for your match. With each step towards the entrance your butt jiggles and your thick legs tense and exude power. Your very real and very spectacular breasts bounce ever so slightly as you make your way to the ring, as you are met with raucous cheers and persistent whistling. The promoter didn’t inform you who your opponent was gonna be, but he did tell you that it was probably going to be a squash match. You pretended to know what he was talking about and just nodded, your knowledge of wrestling terms was quite limited. If only you had known ahead of time what this federation was really about.

You enter the ring, halting for just a moment as your crotch graces the second rope, and make your way to your corner. You look around to see that this arena is a small and dingy arena with haphazardly placed steel chairs. There can’t be more than seventy to ninety people in here, but they are extremely vocal and enthusiastic. You give a little wave to the crowd and wink as they holler and woo back at you. You greet the referee with a soft grin and can’t help but notice her curvaceous body. Even the referees got it going on, and her striped bikini top leaves little to the imagination. You can’t seem to recall any referees dressing so provocatively, but it makes no difference to you.

Who's your opponent going to be?

More fun
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