Mixed wrestling, 320 pictures 1920x1080 (Full HD), partially CFNM, no blood.

Angel sighed impatiently. This was the third time her colleague, Luke, had been on the phone to a friend, and she knew exactly which way it would go. Sure enough …

"Me? Oh, I’m seeing Beth. Eh? Yeah, that’s the one! Oh, man, she’ll keep you up all night, if you know what I mean! Plenty of spinach for me, before, eh? Good job it’s Saturday tomorrow!

Angel was pretty sure he was doing all this to impress her – not that it did. Ever since he heard that she went to wrestling and judo classes, he seemed to be fascinated by her. He was always wanting to hear about it, sometimes suggesting they should "go a few falls together", with a lewd wink. The arrival of the boss interrupted her thoughts and Luke’s phone conversation.

"This memo’s just come through from Head Office. Sorry, there’s nothing I can do about it, but that assignment you’re both working on has to be on their desks first thing Monday morning. Which means it will need to be sent off this evening. One of you will have to stay and finish it. Sorry again. I’m off now, have a nice weekend."

"Bastard," said Luke, after the boss closed the door behind him.

"Have you ever known a boss who isn’t?" Angel replied. "So, who’s it to be?"

"Well, it can’t be me. As you know, I’m –"

"– going to be shagging all night. Yes, I heard you 3 times on the phone. But I’m supposed to be getting my nails done."

"Can’t you cancel it?"

"I don’t see why I should. I’m sorry, but if you hadn’t been on the phone all afternoon, we could probably have got this finished."

"What about you? Always sidling out for a gossip with the girls from the other departments."

"I do it to get away from your embarrassing talk on the phone. I don’t want to hear all that bragging."

"This isn’t getting the assignment done."

"That’s the most sensible thing you’ve said for a long time." She thought for a moment. "I tell you what. You know how you’re always telling me that you’d like to ‘go a few falls’ with me?"

"Yes?"

"Well, how about now? The winner goes home at the usual time, the loser stays and finishes the assignment?"

Luke thought about it. On the one hand, he had a guaranteed evening of predictable sexual pleasure; on the other, a trip to the unknown, with a beautiful lady wrestler. If he won, he would get both.

"Done," he agreed.

*****

Luke gulped at the sight of Angel once they had changed and were in the cage outside the office. The thin grey jersey she was wearing in the office was actually a leotard, which had been disguised by her skirt earlier. Now there was no skirt, and her lower garment simply consisted of dark tights. She looked sleek, desirable and dangerous. The leotard clung to, and emphasised the exquisite shape of, her medium-sized breasts. From her waist down, the tights shimmered in the sunlight over her graceful curves and trim bottom. She stood, hands on hips, ready to fight.

Luke, feeling a bit vulnerable in his underpants, met her in the middle. They shook hands, then Angel immediately grabbed him by his right arm. It was like a tug of war. But she suddenly stopped tugging, allowed his force to pull her towards him, and brought her right foot down sharply on his right leg behind the knee.

His leg gave way, and he dropped, putting his left hand down to support himself. But Angel still had a hold of his arm, which she twisted, manipulated, then locked behind him. She forced him down on his front, sat on his shoulder and worked that arm through her legs, extracting the maximum pain from the lock. She heaved it until you could hear the bones click.

Angel next lay on her back for a conventional arm lock, yanking it between her legs either side of his shoulder. His hand rested on her breasts. This was payback time! She had noticed him gazing at them in the office sometimes, almost hungrily. What with that and his suggestive comments about grappling with her, she had concluded he was a dirty-minded lecher (like most young men, except he wasn’t very subtle about it). Now it was time to torment the hell out of him.

However, it was possible that he didn’t even notice his hand’s pleasant environment, so preoccupied was he with the intense pain she was inflicting on his arm. When she eventually let go, he lay on his side groaning in agony and clutching his torn shoulder. "How satisfying!" thought Angel, kneeling and looking down at him.

She waited for him to get to his knees, then pounced on his back. Bringing him back down, she hooked her legs round his waist from behind and locked his left arm above his head. Only briefly though, because she worked him onto his front and put him in a headlock/choke. Its effectiveness took her by surprise, because he flopped down underneath her, as if he had already had his night of passion.

Angel knelt astride his prone body and flexed in celebration. It was an ideal position to be in to put him in a camel clutch when he came round. Now squatting either side of him, and sitting on the small of his back, she wrenched him up towards her with her hands under his chin, while pushing him back down with her weight on his middle.

"Still think you’d fancy going a few falls with me?" she asked meanly, as his tendons and muscles began to stretch and burn to keep up with her. He wasn’t particularly fit, and had no idea of the pain involved in "going a few falls" with an experienced wrestler. He had blithely assumed it would just be a bit of grappling, and that he might be able to prevail through greater weight. Now, as the strain on his spine, neck, chest, ribs and stomach bordered on the unbearable, he got an unpleasant realisation of what it really involved.

Allowing him to drop to his stomach, she put him in a sleeper briefly, before securing her left arm around his throat and neck in a variation of a head lock, and manipulating the fingers on his right hand, locking them one by one. Luke would have shouted in pain, except that her hold around his neck meant he could produce no sound.

Rapidly alternating her holds (perhaps even showing off a little), Angel now used both arms to lock his head, while locking his left arm between her thighs and relying on their subtle-yet-strong muscles to heave it away from him.

Next, she improvised a very complex hold. Sitting to his side, she seized his left arm in her right hand and hauled it towards her, while half-head scissoring him in the crook of her left leg. That same leg, and her right leg underneath him, locked his other arm. He looked as if he was in a crucifix. The static electricity of her tights crackled and stung on his skin, but that was the least of his worries, as she placed huge strain on his upper body.

Pushing his middle body upwards with her right leg, making him arch his back, her hand travelled down to the top of his left inner thigh. "That can’t be in the wrestling manual," he thought, gritting his teeth both through pain and the need to avoid getting an erection.

"What the - ?" Her hand scooped his balls, then she brushed her fingers over his cock through the material of his underpants, all the while keeping the hold going.

"I’m a good wrestler, aren’t I, Luke?" she murmured, and he did his best to agree. "But where I really excel is in handling a man’s cock."

Never mind what she was doing with her hand, hearing her say that – she who had always seemed so ladylike, prim and correct – was enough to give him a full erection. And, oh how she went to work with her hand! All the time his neck and arms were tortured in the hold, she maddeningly manipulated his cock through that thin material. It grew as much as it could within its constrains in the cup of her hand.

As Angel twisted his left arm behind him, over her thigh that half-scissored his neck, she pinched, she probed, she prodded his cock and balls, smiling lazily all the while. Bundling him onto his side, she maintained both holds, but squatted over him so she could see the results of her work. She nodded to herself in satisfaction at the huge bulge she had created in his underpants. All the time, the fine material of her tights and the gentle curves of her calf and thigh encased his neck and throat.

She went into full bitch mode now, trapping his right leg in her thighs, snaking her left arm around his neck and kissing him. Yes, that intensified his arousal. Next, she knelt beside him, on his near arm, held his mouth, and continued the work of her hand.

"Does your girlfriend do this for you?" she asked.

"Umm," he managed to respond.

"Would you like me to slip my hand inside your underpants, and do it skin-on-skin?"

"Oh, please do it!"

"You want my slender lady’s fingers to curl around your cock, and lightly tickle your balls?"

"I … ah … SHIT!"

Spasm after spasm engulfed him. He came profusely through his underpants, and Angel, with a great show of distaste, rubbed it off her hand into his face. Then she stood over him, looking down and smiling at him.

Luke felt, and looked, a sorry mess. There was nothing for it but to take the now cold and clammy underpants off and clean his face as best he could. What an out-and-out bitch, he thought. It’s hard not to disagree, as she laughed at and mocked his sorry state, on his knees, trying to hide his manhood from her gaze.

He had never felt so vengeful. Recovery came flooding back with a desire to even the score, and he stood back up to face her. She responded, adopting a fighting stance. They circled, then he struck out with his right hand. She backed out of the way, seized the offending arm by the wrist and replied with a palm strike to the chin. Luke’s teeth jarred together, and his head jerked back with the forced of the blow. It was so effective that she repeated the strike, this time with her fist half closed, with equal force.

Still having hold of his right wrist, Angel now used both hands to make various finger locks on that hand. This simple hold, requiring practically no expense of energy from her, rendered her opponent a helpless, howling wreck.

But Angel wasn’t one to be content with such an undemanding hold for long. Taking more advantage of her possession of his right arm, she twisted it behind his back in a half Nelson, making him shriek and driving him down to his knees. This session with Luke was proving to be an excellent work out, and she was enjoying herself immensely.

Letting him drop down onto his front, she knelt over him on her left knee and locked his right up upwards, under her right thigh. But locks didn’t seem to get the immediate results that twists did, so she swapped the hold for complicated combination of a head scissor plus an arm twist. Slanting with her feet on the floor, she engulfed Luke’s neck within her thighs and twisted his left arm behind his back. She considered she had done enough to his right arm for a bit, and it was time to make his left useless as well.

Once again, Luke was getting tiny static electric shocks from her tights as her thighs imprisoned his neck and face. But this feminine confinement belied its effectiveness. It was as powerful a scissor as any from a wrestler whose leg muscles resembled knotted rope. At the same time, his arm was suffering acutely.

Pleased with the effect of the scissor, Angel decided on a reverse head scissor. Lying over him in the "69" position, she again sandwiched his neck and face in the grip of her upper thighs. Securing his wrists, in case his arms had any power left, she settled down to enjoy this next hold. What a great work out she was having! She teased him by occasionally pushing her breasts down on his stomach. She had a bird’s eye view of his manhood to see if it had any effect on him.

Yes, well, perhaps it was time for a bit of pleasure. Still keeping his arms secure below him, and still in the reverse position, she sat on his face. Then, lowering herself, she once again grabbed his manhood. She did love to torment a man! She had dropped down over him so far that her face was as close to his manhood as his face was to her sex. She certainly hinted that he might get some blissful moments. But she abruptly sat up, and that was the end of that!

Not only that, her hand wasn’t nearly so gentle with his manhood as the last time, and she roughly squeezed his balls. Hearing him howl, she let go and sat beside him, smirking while he moaned, clutching his balls in the foetal position.

"Ah, what’s the matter?" she asked derisively, standing and looking down at him, now on his knees. He followed her up, still holding his wounded balls and grimacing in pain. But, as the intensity of the pain gradually ebbed, he once more desired revenge, and adopted a fighting stance. Angel, keen for more combat, copied him.

In an echo of his last attack, he lunged with a right. She dodged it, seizing his arm by the wrist as he followed through. For a moment they resembled two dancers. This illusion, though, was ruined when she sent him sprawling to the floor. In a superb display of judo, she used the momentum of his attempted punch to help him on his way, steering him with her hold on his wrist, and tripping him up with her right leg.

She darted behind him while he was attempting to get up and forced a cavernaria on him. Planting her feet behind his knees, she dug her knees into the small of his back and pulled him towards her with her hands on his chin. To Luke, it felt like the camel clutch all over again. His head was pulled back while his stomach was pushed forward. Every bone, joint, muscle and nerve from his knees upwards seemed to come under severe strain.

When she judged he could stand it no longer, she placed him in a head scissor from behind, crossing her legs around his neck. She could just ignore his feeble attempts to prize himself free as she ratcheted up the pressure on his suffering neck. She stretched out on the floor behind him, and it seemed to give her legs even greater strength as they lay siege to his neck.

Presently, she changed position and scissored him from side on. What was the point in a woman making a man suffer if she couldn’t see the results of her work on his face? Not just his face either, for he now had a gigantic defeat boner, much to her amusement.

One last squeeze should do it. That’s it, brace, concentrate, keep up the pressure … Luke went weak, unconscious once more.

Angel stood over him, one stockinged foot on his defeat boner. It was too tempting for her not to rub a little. Which is all it took for him to explode a second time. He came round as she was rubbing the mess off her foot onto his face. (She didn’t want THAT on her nice expensive tights.)

"I’ll get even with you, you bitch," he mumbled, still half-asleep.

"I’ll look forward to it," she answered briskly. "In the meantime, you have an assignment to finish. You might as well, because you won’t be in a fit state for your night of passion now. I’m off to get my nails done, have a nice weekend."