Miss Demeanor vs Flufffy

Miss Demeanor towers over him, smirking like she already owns the mat. She’s got the height and the ass, and she knows it. Fluffy doesn’t blink. He’s wrestled before, and the second she lunges he drops low, catches her off-balance, and slams her down hard enough to rattle the mats. She growls, twists, tries to smother him with that massive ass, but he keeps scrambling free, taking her down again and again until she’s breathing heavy and her confidence starts to crack. He pins her at last, chest heaving, beard scraping her thigh. Victory is his. She curses under her breath, but the rules are the rules—she’s on her knees now, face level with the cock that just beat her. He feeds it to her slow, lets her taste her own ass on the shaft, makes her lick every inch clean while he flexes over her like she’s nothing. When he’s satisfied he hauls her up, throws her over his shoulder, and carries her off the mats without a word, leaving only the echo of her heavy breathing behind.