You have enough self control to stop

What are you always saying? YOU'RE NOT DIRTY! Why doesn't anybody believe you? You were just- filling the time...

With much effort and strain, and manage to pry your hand out of your panties before the Bombardier reaches you. Barely. Luckily for you, one look over tells you that she's not in such a good spot herself... she's panting, and her breathing is all ragged. She's not leaking anymore, but she's not exactly energised.

"Aw, did I- *huff* turn you on, sweetie?"

Why's she being so mean? Doesn't she know what you just did for her?

"Well, how does this sound..." she asks, putting a hand on one of the nearby top ring ropes and leaning heavily onto it. "We... got at each other... s- *hoo boy* sexually *huff*, until one of us passes out or gives up?"

She's either way too excited to get off, or she's too weak to fight and she knows it. In any case, you're both, so feeling secure in your purple domino mask you agree to her proposition.

Setting yourselves up in the middle of the ring, at first standing up but when neither of your pairs of legs could handle it, you instead lie on your sides, forming a sort of yin/yang circle in the middle of the ring, heads a few centimetres from each other's toes.

"3..." The breathy voice by your feet says.

"2..." You say, licking your lips in antici- because the air is dry.

"1!" you both call out simultaneously, reaching out and grabbing each other's pussies hard. With no technique at all, just heart, you press into her panties with your clenched fingers, more pushing than rubbing, as you set to work on her. The wet and squishy fabric makes it a bit easier to turn her on, you having the added advantage of squeezing out juice onto her pussy.

Down at her end, she's all technique, which surprises you since, speaking for yourself, your higher thinking power is basically gone right now. Man, she's so much better with your pussy than you were...

It doesn't take long until she has you on the brink. And with all this build up {if Orgasms<=2}and your inexperience{endif}, one's just about all you can take. Well, it's not a complete loss, and at least it was good while it lasted... but, in the end, the champion got you...

You open your mouth and shut your eyes to scream out in pleasure, but as soon as the first jolts of ecstasy spark in your lower body, your face is splashed with warm liquid. She's cumming too!

You both lie there, facing inwards in your yin-yang positioning, screaming out in pleasure and rubbing each other off. As your orgasm subsides, and you start coming down from it, you feel your eyes flicker closed as you drift off to sleep....

***

You're woken by the man who brought you here. Your pink panties are absolutely soaked, and you're propped up against the corner of the changing rooms, topless. Hey, wait, where'd the sports bra go?

"Hey, you still with me?" the man asks, shaking you slightly with the hand he has on your shoulder. "Come on, it's closing time, you've gotta get outta here."

"Did I win?" you ask, half-delirious and reaching up to rub at your eyes with your balled hand.

"Drawed, kid. Your clothes are on that bench, and so's half your prize money. You did good." He pats you on the head and stands up to leave the changing rooms. You remain seated for a short while, baffled about whether 'draw' as in 'tie' has the same past tense as 'draw' as in 'illustrate' or not, being 'drew'. Well, some things were never meant to be understood by humans, so rising up out of the corner you move over and start to get changed. Hey, what's this note here?

Pink Pincer,
You're a whore{if Whore>0} (how does she know that?!){endif}. A real trashy, first-class bastard. You think you can take my title from me? Yeah, well think again. If you ever want me to prove that I'm the better fighter again, you know where to find me. Really though, please come find me and let me prove it again. I've never cum that hard, and in front of all those people... anyway! If you think you have what it takes then... oh, who am I kidding? Just come 'round and fuck me sometime, ya hear?
Bombardier

Well, you don't know who the Pink Pincer is, so for fear of committing mail fraud you leave the letter on the bench and head out of the change rooms, fully clothed and with some more money to your name. The Bombardier would spend a lot of the rest of her life thinking back on this day, normally in her bed, and in very, very close detail.