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Mixed wrestling, 270 pictures 1920x1080 (Full HD), partially CFNM, no blood.
Leah was dressed more daringly than last time, with a plunging neckline, a suit that came up high on her hips and mesh nylons coming most of the way up her thighs. Her hair had grown longer and was not restrained by a pony tail. Otherwise, she looked the same. She was barefoot and wore bright red lipstick.
Brad showed up in the ring with his son, a little older than Leah’s 18 years and not much bigger than her. Brad said that he would dispose of Leah so quickly that spectators wouldn’t get their money’s worth, so then they could see a match between the two younger people.
When the male referee brought Brad and Leah to the center of the ring, Leah had a big smile on her face. She pointed to Brad’s trunks and said, “I’m going to strip you and then give you back your trunks and then do it again, so everybody knows I can do it anytime I want.”
When the match began, Leah dove for Brad’s right ankle. She drove her shoulder into to his shin and pulled on his ankle, dropping the man flat on his back.
She stood with his ankle in her hands and twisted it so that the man turned over onto his stomach.
She then grabbed his shorts and pulled them down to his ankles.
With a big smile on her face, she pulled the big male wrestler around the ring by his ankles, with his trunks still on his ankles.
She then pulled the trunks all the way off and held them aloft for everybody to see her easy triumph. She smiled broadly.
She turned her back on the man as she flaunted her prize.
When he rose, he lunged for his trunks, but, still smiling, his confident antagonist pulled him just out of his reach.
He lunged again, with the same result, and he stumbled past her.
She kicked him on his ass.
He came at her again. As he reached for the trunks, which were in her right hand, her left foot came up and kicked him in his solar plexus.
As he leaned over in pain, she put his slumping head between her thighs and dangled the trunks next to him, a big smile still on her face.
She dropped to her knees, banging his face into the mat.
She stood above him triumphantly as he lay there, face first into the mat.
As he started to push up into a kneeling position, she sat on his back, wrapped her legs around his stomach, and she rubbed the trunks in his face, which was still pointing toward the mat.
With her other arm, she applied a choke, and she rolled onto her back, locking the choke in by grabbing the wrist of her choking arm while still holding the trunks. She smiled as he tugged at her arms without success.
She said in his ear, “I can take control of you any time I want to, Old Man.”
When he passed out, she stood above him and dropped the trunks on his face.
She went to a corner, spread her arms along the tops of the ropes, smiled and waited for him to revive.
When he did, he started putting his trunks back on.
When he was done, she came out of the corner casually, pointing at his trunks and smiling. She said, “Those aren’t yours, Big Guy. They’re mine any time I want them. And I’m taking them now.”
As his hands went down to his mid-section instinctively, she left her feet, twirled and kicked him in the face.
When he stumbled back, and one hand went to his face, she said, “You can’t protect your trunks and your face from me at the same time. Not even close. I’m way too much for you.”
She did a forward somersault toward him.
And she came out with one hand around each of his ankles.
She lifted both ankles and he fell to his back.
She turned her back on him, and bent over forward as he watched her ass. He was sitting up.
Then she thrust herself backward at him
Her ass hit his face and he fell backwards, flat on his back.
Her hands went his to trunks. She got them a little ways down.
Then she leaned forward, threw her feet back into the man’s face and, while lying lengthwise atop him, pushed the trunks farther down his legs as he struggled against her feet. She was smiling all the while.
She stood now, straddling him, facing away from him, holding his trunks, though they were still not completely off him. His legs were somewhat in the air, because she was holding the trunks. She shot a foot backward into his face.
He fell flat again, and she pulled trunks all the way off.
Now, again, she held her trophy aloft and gloated, to the cheers of the spectators as the man sat on the mat and tried to cover himself. He looked at her ass.
She bent over forward and looked back at him between her legs, waving the trunks and saying, “Like I say, Big Boy: They’re mine. But I’m going to give them back to you now. As a hat.”
He stood and glowered at her. Now she faced him and said, “This must be SO humiliating for you, Mr. Man. The whole world can see the petite little femme is just toying with you. You’re not a worthy opponent for me. You’re just a prop.”
He came at her hard, this time trying to hurt her, not grab the trunks. She ducked one sweeping blow to her face.
She came up pushing the trunks into his face.
She danced away.
She turned her back on him.
He wrapped his arms around her from behind. His face showed his rage. She smiled.
She wrapped one of her ankles around one of his and pushed back.
They fell to the mat. Still holding the trunks, she threw an elbow into his gut.
She threw her other elbow into his gut.
She slammed her head backwards into his nose. She smiled through it all.
His hands went to his nose in pain. Sitting on his stomach with her back to him, she wrapped her arms around one of his knees and pulled up on it.
She turned toward him and twisted the knee into a leg lock, pushing his ankle up toward him. He slammed the mat in pain.
Leaning down into him as he writhed, she put her lips to his ear and said, “You’re nothing against me, Mr. Man. I own you. You’re just my bitch now.”
She cranked the leg, and the pain in his knee and ankle made him bellow.
With one hand, she banged his head into the mat, then again.
He was dazed. That allowed her to slip the trunks over his head, covering much of his face.
She was leaning into him on his left, so that his left arm was locked between their bodies. He was trying to pull the trunks off his head with his right arm, but his opponent was using her right hand to thwart him. She was smiling at his futility.
She stood up, slapping him on his naked ass.
She went to a corner, put her arms over the ropes again and let him recover his strength and re-cover his body.
As they came toward the center of the ring, she said, “I’m going to let you keep your precious trunks now, Bradley. You should say ‘thank you.’ But I’m going to dominate you some more now. It’s so easy, and I love doing it.”
She bent over into a handstand and both her feet slammed into his chest.
He went reeling back into a corner.
She was on him in an instant. She thrust two fingers into his throat.
As he gagged, bending forward, she brought a knee up into his chest.
She put both her hands on his forehead and slammed his head back into the ringpost.
She punched him in the solar plexus, with two of her knuckles thrust into him.
As he leaned forward in pain, she stepped back and kicked him in the chest.
As he fell forward to his hands and knees, she knelt in front of him, put her hands on his head and slammed his face into the mat.
Putting her hands on his throat, she now dragged him a couple of feet across the mat saying, with her ever-present smile, “I’m wiping the mat with you, Mr. Man. There’s not a thing in the world you can do about it.”
She stood above him now, with her foot on his head, pressing it into the mat. She raised her arms in victory.
She bowed to the crowd.
She stomped her foot on his ass.
She went to a corner again, letting the big man rest and decide whether he wanted more.
She checked her phone as he gathered himself together. She turned her back to him and said, as she looked at her phone, “Check out my ass, Bradley. It’s coming for you next. Be afraid. Be very, very afraid.”
Now he was up, but not near her. Not looking at him, she did a back flip moving toward him.
Her ass connected hard with his gut.
That backed him up into a ringpost. She followed him, with her back still turned. She hit him again with her ass in his gut.
She did it again.
He slumped to the floor in a sitting position.
Now she came at his face with her ass, slamming into him hard.
She held that position, raising her arms in victory again.
Then she hit him again in his face with her ass.
She dragged the big man to the center of ring by one of his feet. He was flat on his back.
She jumped high in the air, did a summersault in the air.
She landed ass-first on his face.
Now she turned her attention to the son. He stood outside the ropes on the ring apron. She went toward the ropes and beckoned him to her with her big smile.
As he stood outside the ropes, she grabbed his face with both hands and kissed him on the lips.
She slapped his face.
She slapped him again with the same hand, but this time coming across backhand.
She kissed him again the same way.
She pulled him into the ring.
She pushed him up against a ringpost and slapped him in the face again, still smiling.
She punched him in the stomach.
She propped back up against the ringpost as his father was rising and coming at her from behind.
Without seeming to notice the father, she kicked backwards, hitting him in the face.
He fell back a couple of steps, and she banged his son’s head against the ringpost.
With the father coming at her again from behind again, she was kissing the son again when she kicked the father in his belly without looking at him.
Then she turned and kicked the father in face with a wide sweeping kick.
He fell to the mat. Leah had turned back to the son and thrown her right arm between his legs and her left around his neck.
She lifted him off his feet and over her head, so that his feet were pointing to the ceiling and his head to the mat.
She turned to the father and body slammed the son on top of the father.
She stood over the two males smiling proudly and raising her arms in victory.
She pulled the son to his feet by one arm.
He stood there groggily.
She guided him to the ropes and gently pushed him through them.
She pointed a finger at him and told him to stay there.
He meekly did as told.
She turned her attention back to Brad. He was halfway up, on one knee.
She turned her back on him and jumped at him backwards, her ass hitting him in the face.
He was flat on his back. She loomed over him, bent over and looked him in face and said, “You can’t stand up if my ass doesn’t want you to.”
She stood back and folded her arms across her chest and smiled. He stared up at her.
She turned her back on him and said, “Go ahead: Try to stand up.” Her arms were still folded across her chest.
He started to stand and found himself blasted again, her ass his face and knocking him down.
She loomed above him, saying “Told ya.”
The man started to stand, but he was groggy.
When he was halfway up, the girl simply pushed him over with her hands.
Standing above him, she said, “Now I’m going to make you beg. A LOT!”
As he tried to stand, she plowed into him, tackling him to the mat.
With them both on the mat, she had one of his arms bent behind his back. She pressured it. Agony showed on his face.
She said, “You’re going to submit, Buddy Boy. There’s nothing you can do about me. I’m in complete control.”
He yelled, “OK. I submit.” She said, “I want you to beg.”
The referee stepped in, saying, “He submitted, Leah. You have to let him go.” Leah gave Brad’s arm one last, painful thrust, putting her whole body weight into it.
She banged his head against the mat.
She stood and stomped on his thigh, immobilizing is leg for a while.
And she turned her attention to the ref. Smiling, she said, “I’m going to have to dispose of you. But I’ll do it gently.”
She pushed him gently on his chest with both hands.
Then she grabbed him in a headlock.
She threw him over her hip to the mat.
She put her armpit on his face and clamped down, wrapping her arm around his head and holding his nose and mouth in her armpit, so he couldn’t breathe.
He thrashed, but she held him effortlessly, locking one of his arms between her legs and smiling.
Stood above him as he lay unconscious.
She took one of his arms and dragged him to a corner, where Brad’s son stood near him.
Brad was now standing. She said, “Where were we? Oh, yes, I was going to make you beg me for mercy. No need to rush that, though, I’m having too good a time.”
As he came at her, she jumped on him and wrapped her legs around his torso, facing him as he stood. She was smiling. He was shocked.
She smacked him on his ears with the palms of both her hands.
His hands went to his ears in pain.
She slapped his face with one hand, still smiling.
She slapped his face with the other hand.
She karate chopped him with the edges of both her hands on his shoulders.
He crumpled to his knees and she stood in front of him, her hand under his chin so that she could point it up to look at her. She said, “You know I’m going easy on you, right? I could end this at any time I want.”
She brought one foot up behind her and smacked his face with it, never looking at him.
She went over to a ringpost and waited.
When he was up, she said, “Come for me whenever you’re ready, Babe. I dare you. You’re not afraid of a girl are you? With everybody watching?”
He came at her cautiously. Suddenly her feet were wrapped around his face as she leaned back into the post, her arms wrapped over the ropes for support.
She flung herself off the post, kind of sideways, still holding his head, and threw the man head over heels.
When he looked up, she was standing near him. Smiing, she said, “Try something else.”
Without getting up, he grabbed for her ankle, she kicked him in the face with her other foot.
He let go and fell back. Looming over him, she said, “Try again.”
He was on his feet now and reaching for a headlock.
She turned her back on him and dropped to the floor.
She scooted backward, between his legs.
She came up behind him holding both his ankles in the air, with him having fallen to his face on the mat.
She bent his knees so that his ankles were up at his thighs, and she sat on his legs to hold him in that position. She twisted one ankle and the man slapped the mat in pain. She was smiling.
Then she ducked her head and did a somersault toward his head.
When she came up in front of him, she turned and put her hands on his head and pushed it into the mat. She looked around at the crowd as she smiled, holding the man in place.
She stood up, but still held the man’s head down, now exerting more pressure on it than ever as she bent over at the waist.
Now she did a handstand on his head, both of her hands pushing his face into the floor as she was vertical above him.
She spread her legs as wide as they could go, as a gymnast might.
She lowered herself until she was sitting on the man’s head. Her legs were in the split position, pointing straight out in both directions. She was facing toward his feet. She spread her arms out, too, and smiled for the crowd.
She turned around so that she was sitting on his back facing toward his head, and she wrapped one of her arms under his throat and pulled his neck back hard, straining his back.
His face showed his agony, while hers – right next to his so that their cheeks touched – showed her joy.
They were both looking in the direction of the man’s son and the ref. The boy was standing behind the ropes, and the ref – now awake – was sitting against the post.
As the girl put still more pressure on her hold, bending the man’s back farther, he croaked his surrender. “Stop! You’re breaking my back! I give. I give up!”
Still holding him like that, the girl said in his ear, “If you want me to stop, you tell your son to take off his trunks.”
The man said, “Do it. Do what she says! She’s killing me! I can’t take it!”
The boy did it.
She said to the man, “Now beg me to strip you naked. It’s your only hope for my mercy.” He said, “Please! Strip me naked.”
The smiling girl’s hands went to the man’s trunks.
She stood with her prize in her hands.
She went over to the boy and took his trunks.
She went back to the man and helped him to his feet.
She put him in the corner where his son stood, with the man facing her. Standing just inches from him, looking up into his face, she said, “Would you like to wrestle me some more?” He said, “No, please, no more.”
She said, “Why not? Are you afraid of little me?” He said, “Yes, I’m afraid of you. I can’t do anything against you. No more, please.”
She said, “Lie down on your back. I’m want to put my foot on your face.”
He did as told, and she did as promised and raised her arms in the air in victory, one pair of male trunks in each hand.