Pretty Pixie

At three times my weight, I knew that Vander would be a huge man but he was even larger in person than he'd been on our video chat.  The fact that he had kept his mask on when we'd met at the gym was out of the ordinary, even for fetish wrestling.  Still, he perked up when I'd confirmed that the winner was entitled to a sexual forfeit.  So Vander couldn't be all that odd.

The fight began with me slipping on the smooth mats and him getting both his arms around me.  With one arm around my shoulders and another around my waist, Vander was in the perfect position to squeeze all the air out of my lungs and to render me a lifeless shell.  But instead of taking advantage, he merely held me in place and rubbed me back and forth across his belly.

"Advance your position, Van," I told him, "or let me go."

"What position would you like me to advance you into?"  The sexy rumble of his voice against my chest made it clear the type of position that he had in mind.