Amazing Welterweight match up. 4 pt difference!

Jayogen steps in green to the mat, raw, still new, one tag-team round under her belt. She stares at the woman who used to be her partner—Bella Rossi, heavier by four pounds of tight muscle and stacked curves. Bella smells blood and the camera. Her big tits strain the sports bra, eyes already undressing the girl who’s never been taken on screen. They lock up hard. Bella drives Jayogen to the fence, palm shoving between her thighs, hips grinding forward like she owns the space. Jayogen fights back, sweaty and stubborn, but Bella twists, mounts, plants her ass on the rookie’s face. The crowd hears the sharp gasp when Bella drags two fingers across Jayogen’s shorts, testing heat. Round after round Bella keeps the pressure: arm bars, face sits, thigh-crushing holds that leave Jayogen panting and pink. Every pin lets Bella’s heavy breasts brush skin, nipples stiff under thin fabric, and each escape attempt only gives Bella another opening to shove a knee between open legs. Final seconds. Bella traps Jayogen in a brutal bodyscissor, hand sliding lower, middle finger pressing against the damp spot. Jayogen taps, chest heaving, cheeks burning. Bella leans close, voice low enough for the mic. “Camera’s still rolling, rookie. Time to pop that cherry.” The live feed cuts. Bella’s already pulling Jayogen toward the back room, prize claimed, the promised virgin taken on tape for the first time.