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That poor kid. He couldn't have chosen worse for his first time. I'd even hesitate to go against the Black Bandit, but him, he didn't stand a chance. I can't pity him too much though. He probably had the time of his life.

'Newcomers,' 'one-timers,' we have plenty of names for them. People who come once, get their asses handed to them and don't come back. That sort of thing happens all the time. They lose a bet or are tricked into it. Or they watch the sport heavily until they build up the courage to try it for themselves. It's not exactly hard to get in. They think, 'How hard could it be? Even if I lose, I get to rub up against a lady or two while I'm there.'

To some, that's as far as it goes, but to the unlucky ones, it's an embarrassing, sometimes painful experience. There aren't many rules in this sport. As far as I'm concerned, that guy got off pretty lucky. I, on the other hand, have it pretty easy today.

My opponent was already waiting patiently in the ring. She didn't bat an eye to crew carrying off the kid from before. It looked like she only had eyes for me. She stood center ring, wearing only the standard wrasslin' attire: tight black shorts - more akin to underwear or a jockstrap - and protective leggings going just past her knees. Anything else is just for vanity, which is encouraged for creating a unique wrasslin' persona. I don't bother with such things, and neither did my opponent.

I ignored the wailing of the crowd as I hopped into the ring. I noticed my opponent sizing me up, but I only briefly did the same. Sure she was shapely, wide hips, thick legs, a decent pair - each the size of my head - on her chest, but I could tell she was a newcomer, or at the very least she hadn't been in too many matches. No muscle definition, and she didn't have the sheer size to make up for it like so many other wrasslers did. Underneath her swamp-green skin was nothing but squishy fat. I could have fun with that.

I simply smiled as her pink, reptilian eyes met mine. Tough as she acted, I could tell she was nervous. Now is about the time people start having second thoughts. Too late. Once you're in the ring, you don't leave until the match is over.

As the bell sounded, she immediately crouched into a defensive position. She began to circle around my side, her long, scaly tail swinging to and fro, mostly likely in anticipation and/or nervousness.

I waited patiently for my moment to strike. I was sure she wouldn't have me waiting long. Surprisingly quick for her size, she leapt forward, trying to catch me from the side. I grabbed her arm as I pivoted around her and just as quickly, I grabbed her other and pulled them both behind her back.

She struggled briefly, lurching forward and wrenching her hands to break free, but my grip was firm. I let her try, at least. We played tug-o-war that way for a good while before I got bored.

In one swift motion, I released her hands, but reached around front to find something more substantial. I immediately dug my hands into her two large breasts. Using them as leverage, I pulled her backwards, resting the bulge in my shorts in between her cheeks. The crowd loved it.

She struggled to push me away. From her position, she could only grab on to my hands, but those weren't moving any time soon.

Repeatedly I squeezed on her large, love pillows. They were soft and bouncy, like two water balloons wrapping around my hand. The crowd cheered as I rubbed them together and bounced them up and down. All the while I pulled her close and wantonly ground myself against her.

As I rested my head on her shoulder, I could see her gritting her teeth as she futilely tried to resist. While I was putting on a show, that didn't mean I couldn't have any fun myself.

Using the middle finger on each hand, I traced the edges of my opponent's nipples. I swear I could almost see blush through that scaly skin of hers. She grunted as she jerked left and right, even trying to lift me at one point. "Pointless," I whispered in her ear as I tugged at her sensitive green nubs.

Her struggling died down after a short time, allowing me to do as I wanted. Having toyed around enough, I decided to go for the kill.

I reached down, my hand slow sliding in between her legs. Her hips jerked forward at the sudden touch. Her knees buckled ever-so-slightly, and she let out the softest of gasps. I was confident that it was game over at that point, but as I bent forward to catch her, she pushed off of the ground with a surprising amount of force, landing me on my back and her top.

Entirely my fault. I didn't expect an amateur to try something like that.

As quickly as she could, my opponent flipped herself around. She pinned my arms to the mat as her giant breasts smothered my face.

I let her have her fun for a little while, after all I didn't want to make the match seem too one-sided, and I didn't mind the 'treatment' either. It was my favorite part of the sport.

She held her body firmly against me, determined not to let me move. From her position, there was only one thing she could do to win. She began to grind her body against mine. Her large ass ran in circles on top of my top crotch, causing me to slowly but surely grow harder by the second.

I worked my body left and right, fighting the urge to reciprocate my opponent's motions. This is always the hardest part of any match. To win or to get off: that is the question.

I had plans to win today.

Both my arms and legs went down, and with all my strength, I pushed away from the mat. It was easily more than enough to dismount my unwitting opponent. I rolled the both of us over to the side, putting me on top, and immediately in control of the situation.

The tent in my pants now fully pitched, I decided to put it to use. I took a brief look down below before finding what I was looking for. There in between my opponents legs I could see the very distinct shape of her sex. Her taut shorts contoured to its every curve, giving me a clear view of her large, plump labia. From what I could see, it was also very wet. This wouldn't last long.

Smiling smugly, I began rubbing my bulge against her soft, lower lips. Using what little strength she had left, she tried to lift herself from the ground, but I had her shoulders pinned. It was over. She could only grab my wrists, but that wouldn't help her.

I pressed my erection hard against her, spreading her labia apart and no doubt massaging her very sensitive clit in the process.

I could see her legs trembling, and her cheeks grow flush. Wanting to help her along, I bent forward and took one of her stout nipples into my mouth. She stifled a moan as I ran my tongue along its soft edges. Gently I sucked at it, taking more and more of my opponent's large areola into my mouth. Before long, her expression had gone from defiant to mortified. Her breathing slowly grew rapid, and her grip on my hands loosened.

Knowing that she'd essentially given up, I released her shoulders and put my hands to better use. I once again dug my hands into the soft fat of her breasts. While kneading one, I teased the nipple on the other. I made sure she could see my tongue running circles around her plump, green nubs. The entire time, I never stopped sliding my cock across her lower lips.

It would be easier to end things than I thought. My opponent was about as sensitive as they come. Not exactly the best thing in this kind of sport.

I was through toying around with her. I pulled back and aimed my bulge downward. My opponent's gasp was audible over the crowd as I not-so-gently prodded her entrance. These regulation shorts are quite stretchy. They would allow me more than a little leeway.

Back and forth I rocked my hips, my erection sliding deeper and deeper in between my opponent's folds. She couldn't protest, and I doubt she wanted to. Every passing moment, I'd increase the force of my thrusts. My opponent's stretchy shorts easily gave way as I force them, and my bulge inside of her.

She was close. I wanted the finish to be spectacular.

It took only a second of searching for find what I was looking for. I brushed my hand along the top of her lower lips, and within seconds, I had located her clit. Like everything else, its outline was clear through my opponent's shorts.

I kneaded it in between my fingers, rubbing my thumb along its tip. That was enough to finally get her to moan. She threw her head back as I tugged at her most sensitive of areas. She wasn't going to last long before. Now it was really over.

It took barely a minute of all this prodding, poking, and pulling for her to finally reach her peak. A violent shake coursed through her body. I could feel it. Her walls squeezed on the tip of my erection. It made me shudder. I pulled out before the temptation to get off became too much.

My opponent soaked her crotch all the way to the floor. I could see the wetness work its way outward as they were absorbed by her shorts. At this point, there was probably no shame left in her mind. Only bliss. My second favorite part of wrasslin'. Even losing can be a ton of fun.

I waved to the cheering crowd one last time before turning to my former opponent. For a newbie, she put up a decent fight. I offered her a hand which she somewhat reluctantly took. I'm sure the shame was kicking in about now, but she would bounce back. Unlike the last guy, she seemed like a contender.

A smile, a friendly handshake, and a few words of encouragement later, we parted ways. I'll be sure to meet her in the ring again someday and for sure, I won't have such an easy time with her.