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Sketcha, or simply Sketch as most called her, could barely sit still on the bed as she awaited the coming of her opponent. Mayor Mare was more than just an exciting erotic opponent to be in the ring with, she was one of the all-time greats, a legend of sexual wrestling, and the opportunity to have a match with her was one that came along few times, and came to few ponies, especially now that the Mayor had retired formally from the hobby. She still followed it, though, and Sketch had done well in the ring, overwhelming opponents male and female with her pure erotic skills and impressive muscles. She felt like an eager fangirl awaiting a visit from her hero, and to a certain extent she was, it was just that once she saw her hero, she was going to get in bed with her and rut her until she came like a freight train. And likely after that, the first to orgasm would lose, after all, but there would still be some time for a little bit of post-match celebrating.

She had to hold back a gasp of joy when the mayor stepped in and she saw her for the first time in person, and so close. She wore only a thong, a pair of high silk socks, and large green pasties over her nipples that, at least technically, meant she was clothed. The Mayor let her overcoat drop, and Sketch saw that she wore the same, the thong riding up her pussy and creating an impressively sized cameltoe. She may have been older, her muscles a little less cut and a bit heavier around the midsection, but that was how Sketch liked it.

"Well?" The Mayor asked, in a businesslike tone that almost managed to hide her arousal at the moment, "What are we waiting for?"

Sketch stood up, and saw she was actually perhaps a few inches taller than the older woman, even if they fought at the same official weight.

"I was just waiting for you to be ready," Sketch answered, before adding, "And admiring the view, of course."

The Mayor chuckled, "Of course," she answered, "But don't take too long. Or else the extent of the view is going to be my breasts in your face until you pass out."

Sketch was sure she was shaking in excitement just being addressed so hotly and so aggressively, by one of the legends of the sport. She managed to calm herself, and nodded, stepping in, and offering her hands to the Mayor to lock up.

"Let's begin, then," she said.

The Mayor chuckled, "Not like that~" she answered simply as she stepped in, and let their big, beautiful breasts press together. Sketch saw what she wanted, and pressed back, her bountiful breasts mushrooming out, bodies pulling nice and close together, pressed so close she could feel the Mayor's heartbeat through her chest.

They kissed, and Sketch let her tongue slip deep into the Mayor's mouth. It was warm, wet, and filled with broad oral muscle. Of course, what else would one expect, it was a mouth! But it felt heavenly to her, incredible. It only felt more incredible as the Mayor started to kiss back, and Sketch felt the erotic skill the other woman was so well known for. She couldn't just kiss if she wanted to win, and she wouldn't just kiss if she had one of her idols in her arms. She broke the kiss, a strand of saliva dripping out of their mouths, hanging low like a precarious rope bridge, then breaking. The Mayor looked up at her with bedroom eyes, like a woman eager to have her partner ravage her, and Sketch, for her part, would not dream of disappointing her. She leaned in, bending her opponent backward like a ballroom dancer, and brought her lips to the other woman's neck, kissing passionately, dominantly, trying to make her feel the same helplessness she made all her other opponents feel, like they were being controlled by a superior sensual force.

Of course, this woman was not like all of her other opponents. The Mayor was something special, she moaned, yes, rolled her hips, did all the things you would expect a woman being pleasured to do. But Sketch had sexfought for long enough to know that this wasn't quite the same as normal. The moans were satisfied, but not helpless, less like a woman ravaged by a beast, more like one enjoying a massage at the twin's parlor. In sex-wrestling, even an aroused response can be a form of dirty-talk, a form of insult to the other's skill, a message saying 'What you're doing feels good, but I hope you know we're still supposed to be competing, and this won't overwhelm me.'

Sketch would have been disappointed if it had. After all, she hadn't dreamed of a match like this for years only to find her opponent to be an easily exhausted pushover. If anything, the idea would have been an insult. The Mayor she knew, the one known as the Mayor of Mayhem in her day, would never have accepted the fight if she thought she would be taken down by this. She had retired on top, not because she couldn't win anymore, just because she felt that she was not quite as good, and would not want an opponent given less than her at her best.

With that in mind, Sketch was even more flattered to get a private match, that she had done so well the Mayor would give her a fight even past her prime. She would hate to disappoint by giving her any less than her best, so she pulled the Mayor up, until she was only bent a little, and began to rub her hand over her pendulous breast, then reaching in and tearing away the pasty on the nipple to the sound of the ripping of removed adhesive and the low gasp of a pleasured woman. She slowly pumped her hand forward as she made out with the mayor's neck, massaging her breast, pulling back just a little to whisper in her ear.

"You're not what you used to be~" Dirty-talk was necessary in sexfights, and she was sure the Mayor understood that while the words may have been true, the sentiment wasn't, and Sketch was loving every second of this competition.

"Nor are champions," the Mayor answered, "If you can earn titles with such simple tactics," she spoke with what Sketch hoped was a similar intent.

Sketch opened her mouth to respond and then gasped as the Mayor's arms clutched around her body and started to squeeze. She had gone by the Mayor of Mayhem, but the Mayor of Muscles may have been a more accurate title, considering her famed ability to wrap her arms around her opponents and squeeze any semblance of fight out of them. Sketch fought for breath as the Mayor pulsed her biceps in on her sides, and crushed the Zebra's massive tits to her own, a dominant hold letting her opponent know who was in charge. Sketch couldn't help feeling almost lesser as a woman, feeling her breasts crushed like that, her body utterly controlled in her opponent's grasp.

"It's nice to be back in competition," the Mayor chuckled, "but I hope that you plan on doing more than a little light kissing. I've not been in the ring for years and I'm still not pent up enough for that little teasing play to be enough. I hope you don't consider that fucking, back in my day that wouldn't have even been foreplay." Then she stopped, and fixed Sketch with a confident smile.

"Here," the Mayor continued, "Why don't I show you how I used to do this. Up you go!"

She suddenly lifted, and Sketch felt her feet leave the soft carpeted floor. Suddenly she wasn't just caught in a crushingly tight erotic embrace, she was having her whole body controlled, and there was no way to run. Her breasts were pressed to the mayor's muzzle, and she tried to reach her arms around to grab the back of the Mayor's head and push it close to smother her.

She might as well have simply ASKED the Mayor to stop breathing, for all the good it did in the fight. That saliva-soaked mouth opened, and her thick lips closed around the pasty, her soaked oral muscle dragging along it. She used her broad, sopping wet tongue to rub up and down along her pasty like a paintbrush. After a few seconds of licking and sucking, Sketch felt like her breasts had been soaking in a hot tub for an hour, slick with saliva and even, she was sure, milk dripping from the nipple. Between her powerful suction and slathering tongue, the Mayor had at some point stripped the pasty from her breast even if Sketch wasn't quite sure when, leaving Sketch's thick nipple as an open target for the other woman's oral assault. Not since her first day at a training school had she felt so completely controlled by an opponent.

Sketch's breasts were every bit as sensitive as her pussy was, and she felt her orgasm growing rapidly between her legs. She wasn't sure how any woman could have handled the Mayor in her prime, considering the talent she had years after retiring out of a belief she could no longer go like she used to. Quite frankly, Sketch almost wondered if that had all been a ruse, and she was simply waiting for the waters to be restocked before going back to hunting fish in a barrel. The suspicion was backed up as Sketch was easily grabbed and forced back against the wall, her broad and beautiful back pinned flat against the wall of the hotel, so that there was nowhere to go and she couldn't even try to lean back and escape the Mayor's mouth! She was trapped, pinned, helpless in the face of the other woman, her tit feeling more like it belonged to her opponent than it did to Sketch right now.

The Mayor pulled her lips from Sketch's breasts with a loud Pop, and milk and saliva dripped down her chin. She met the Zebra's eyes with a challenging stare, daring her to fight back, to prove she was every bit the champion she claimed to be.

"Is this all you have for me, Sketch? I'm a wrestler, not a call-girl, I didn't expect to come here just to get you off."

Once she said it, she dove back on, wrapping her lips around Sketch's breast and sucking with all her might. Sketch's mighty hips bucked against the mayor's body, pumping into her, arousal almost overwhelming her. Her orgasm was growing close, almost too close, and she needed to stop it before the mayor carried her away to that same island of breathless pleasure she left all her opponents on. Knowing she needed a desperation move to escape from her situation, she tried to reach up, grab the back of the Mayor's head, and pull tighter, to smother the other woman with her breasts.

As she did, she kicked her legs up, and wrapped them around the Mayor's body, squeezing tight with her thigh muscles, crushing her with all the power she had. She began to pump her hips as she did, knowing in doing that could make the scissors hold that much more painful, knowing the force of her body would make it that much harder to hold out while being squeezed in thigh muscle, that much harder to regain her bearings and keep up the battle. It was an effective technique, one that Sketch had used many times on her other opponents, interrupting an erotic attack with power and pain, and forcing them to lose control of their bodies just enough that Sketch could force them away and plan her next move.

It worked well on most of her opponents. This was not most of her opponents. This was a woman who had stood astride the world of erotic wrestling for well over a decade, a woman who had been beaten at times but NEVER forced to total submission, a woman who was not just the best fighter of her day, but perhaps the best fighter of her century. She pulled away from the wall, twisted her hips, turned around, and slammed Sketch hard on her back, pinning them both down under the awesome combined weight of the two mares.

Sketch was finally freed from the hold, and the Mayor crawled up her body until their barely-covered pussies meshed together as one. She shuddered as she felt the weight of the other woman on top of her, the juices dripping onto her tiny thong. It would feel good, no, it would feel incredible to just lie back and let the pleasure of the moment roll over her, to know that she was being worked over by one of her idols, a woman she had patterned her career on. Of course, if she did that, she would hardly be patterning her career on the Mayor, would she? The Mayor never let anyone roll over her, dominate her, never just lay back and took it. The mayor made you fight for every inch, and Sketch was determined to do the same.

She felt the tan woman grab her arms and lean in on her, pressing her down with her might and muscle. Then a pair of tree-trunk-like legs wrapped around her own and spread her out in a grapevine. The Mayor leaned in, breasts pressing into Sketch's face, practically smothering her under mountains of titflesh. Not quite smothering yet, but doing something that could be just as hard to handle. The Mayor twisted her shoulders, sending her breasts smashing into Sketch's face.

It was like a wake-up call, a reminder that she was a warrior. She couldn't just sit here, pinned and grapevined, and be crushed. The rather literal slap in the face put the fight back into her. She couldn't use her arms, she couldn't use her legs, but fortunately, Equines had evolved a little bit of a fifth tool, for slapping away flies, and while she couldn't use it to lift or grind, she COULD get an opponent hot, excite her even in the most overwhelming of situations, as long as she got a good shot.

She flicked her tail up, and the thick appendage and its long hairs slapped against the Mayor's pussy. It was clear that, despite her years of competition, this was one technique the veteran grappler was not familiar with, she seemed to jump a little bit, her thong getting wetter, in response.

Sketch knew she had to act fast to take advantage, and while the Mayor was twitching just slightly, she freed an arm, reached up, and grabbed a handful of the grey, if dyed, hair. She pulled, and in pulling, didn't just force Mayor Mare to bend back, she used that as leverage to pull herself up in a sit-up, so she could latch her lips onto Mayor Mare's neck, and make out with it once more!

The Mayor moaned, and Sketch felt in total control as she suckled on her neck and rolled her hips. The roll was enough, even, to move the big woman from grinding right on her cunt up to her belly, and that meant that there was plenty of room for Sketch herself to reach her other hand up and slap at the breasts that pushed into her own. Mayor Mare groaned, and Sketch grinned, rubbing over that breast, and delivering another slap. It got the same reaction, and she was starting to feel she had her, partly from the way that the Mayor's voice grew higher and higher with every strike, and partly from the increasing wetness against her ample belly.

"Wanna see a fun trick~?" She asked, teasingly, her hand trailing down from the Mayor's breast, around to her back and along the curve of her spine. The older woman's ass was an incredible thing to feel; thick, full, firm, and just plain gorgeous to put her hands on. She felt the other woman shudder as she slipped her hands down a little more, and dug her fingers into the elastic of the thong. She slowly pulled back, stretching the elastic tight against her opponent's body, pressing it up to her thick clit, and making the tan mare squirm under the attack. The tighter it stretched, the more her opponent gasped, before... SNAP! She pulled it right away, and she felt the Mayor shudder as the fabric ripped against her pussy, nearly soaking Sketch's body right there.

Nearly, but unfortunately for Sketch, it was not a first to NEARLY cum loses match and the mayor recovered, looking down at the zebra with a confident smile, and she spreading her legs to maintain her balance, stretched her out in a grapevine more, and held the zebra helpless.

"That wasn't a bad trick," the Mayor laughed, "But mine is better~" And she reached back, grabbed Sketch's thong, and ran her thumb along it. The Zebra groaned as she did, shaking a little bit as the Mayor ran her hand over her body, her sensitive clit, and then pinched down. It was either luck or perfect placement that let her pinch just close enough to the clit to make her feel it, but not enough to make it hurt, as she pulled the thong backward.

Sketch shuddered, already close to soaking her thong from the way she was being so expertly worked over, and dreading what would happen when the Mayor was able to dig her skilled fingers in deep and just work over her pussy. She didn't need to worry about that, it turned out when the Mayor released her thong, and it snapped back on her cunt, feeling like a hard and open hand slap against the pussy.

Unfortunately for her, the reason that she wouldn't need to worry about it was that the move very nearly ended the match right there, making the Zebra buck and shake under her erotic attention. She bit her lip and used every trick she had to keep from cumming, tensing every muscle in her body... And thus, unable to watch the Mayor or try to stop her as she scrambled up her and placed her soaked pussy right on the Zebra's muzzle.

Not having the thong to 'protect' her turned out to work to the Mayor's advantage, as she was able to push in harder than she would otherwise, and make sure the flesh of her cunt sealed the Zebra's nostrils and mouth. She shook as she was subjected to a pussy smother, trying to grab the Mayor's hips on instinct and force her off, but there was just too much power and weight in the woman on top of her to accomplish it. She was trapped beneath a mass of pussyflesh and girly juices. Sketch spluttered, trying to take in a breath, but it was no easy thing to do when a woman like the famed Mayor of Mayhem had her pussy buried against your muzzle, and opening your mouth just meant getting more filled with cuntflesh and more reminded of just how fucking good and how fucking DANGEROUS the woman you were trying to bed was, at least dangerous in bed, if not in other ways.

"What's... Mmm... Wrong~?" The Mayor's voice was high, but with the slight rasp that let Sketch know that there was more pleasure in her than she cared to admit, she was closer to cumming than she was acting. If the Zebra could just hold out a little bit longer, she would be able to beat her!

It wouldn't need to be too long, either. She drove her muzzle forward and started twisting and licking her tongue around the Mayor's sensitive pussy. The great, dominant woman's body began to gasp, and Sketch felt her thighs start to quake on either side of her head.

Quake, and then... Crush. Suddenly, she was no longer eating out a gasping, aroused woman. The quaking was ended by clutching her thighs around Sketch's head, squeezing in on her skull, and pulsing so close and so powerfully that it felt like she had put her head in a cider press. Even at this age, the Mayor's muscles were not to be underestimated.

Nor, as it turned out, were her erotic combat instincts, as she leaned back, and slapped the flat of her hand on Sketch's bouncing breasts. She had noticed how much pleasure the zebra felt from them, how nipple contact had nearly lead her to gush a gallon of juices on the ground and was exploiting it effectively with a powerful, flat-palmed strike that felt more like a spank to the tits than it did a hot and teasing little slap.

A less talented woman would have been dislodged just by the bucking of the zebra's body, but the Mayor was one of the most talented there was, and she rode out the riding and flailing, feeling Sketch shake and twist but never once letting her have a chance to breathe or recover, just reel from the tit-spank.

"Oh, you like your breasts being bullied, do you Sketch~?" The Mayor chuckled, teasing a finger around the areola that left the Zebra shaking in pleasure, "I'm so glad to hear that. I still hold the league's record for inflicting the most tit-based submissions you know. Here... Why don't I show you my technique~?"

The Mayor leaned back, balanced her hands on the Zebra's body, and leaned down to push all of her weight against Sketch's too-sensitive tits. She had to bite her lip (and a bit of the Mayor's pussyflesh) to avoid cumming right there. The result of the cunt-nip was that the Mayor's thighs just tightened around her head even more, crushing in like she was being buried under the trunks of felled oaks, all rippling striated muscle, and unbreakable force.

She was close, they both knew it, and any second now she would be cumming. At this point, as horribly sensitive as her nipples were, even the lightest press of flesh to her pussy, even through the thong, would probably send her over. The breasts were the more sensitive and effective method of control, but they were giving Sketch a few moments more to survive, to try to find a way out of the crushing trap that was the Mayor's massive thighs.

As she rolled, though, she felt a sudden twitch and gasp when her muzzled rubbed over the other equine's sensitive clit. She wasn't the only one nearing the edge, and she would be able to find a way to win if she could just get the Mayor off of her, and get free reign of that cunt!

She couldn't do it from here, that much was clear, she was being held down, and while it would take a little bit of pussy-slapping to make her cum in the next five seconds, the continued working of her breasts would ensure the result would be the same in the next fifteen. The Mayor had very little reason to release her hold, to pull back on her attack, Sketch would have to make her do it herself.

A risky move that would typically get her scolded by her coach, she slipped her lips slightly up to deliver a long suckle to the Mayor's clit. A trick like that on an unpredictable opponent could lead to the crush getting tight enough to back out, the assault increasing in desperation, all manner of things that would have made it a bad tactical decision. Sketch didn't have time for a good one, though, and quite frankly any decision would be worse than lying back and accepting the inevitable. The Mayor would rather be a conquest than a coward, and so would Sketch!

The gamble paid off, too, with a flick of the Mayor's hips, and Sketch's trained fighter instincts let her capitalize before anything else happened. She suddenly shoved up from under the Mayor and sent the other woman rolling off her, and Sketch rolled onto her hands and knees, in part to recover and in part to defend her cunt.

The Mayor was quick, and she rolled up as well, quickly getting to her hands and knees, and likely on her way to her feet. Sketch couldn't allow that to happen, and leaped, taking the muscle-bound woman's back, and wrapped an arm around her neck, trying to use her thigh to grind over the Mayor's clit.

Perhaps if the Mayor had been as close as she was, she would have succeeded, too. Unfortunately, she was just that few inches farther from orgasm that it made a difference. Even as she was wrapping her arms around her, the Mayor's shoulders were already shaking, and her arm lifting. Sketch couldn't settle herself on the back, and with a twitch of the Mayor's hips, she was dislodged. She fell to her back, beneath her opponent's body, looking up at those hot hanging tits. Before she could do anything else, she felt the Mayor's hand grab her, and pull her up to those breasts. Her nostrils and muzzle were filled with thick titflesh, no matter how she tried to breathe, the air was stopped.

"Ahhhh, that's fine, little Zebra, you did well," the Mayor chuckled as she held her trapped, not letting her breathe, not letting her move, "I was impressed. In fact, I wanted to thank you." Sketch heard her chuckle through the fog of the smother, "For teaching me a new move."

With that, the Mayor snapped her long tail down, it slapped right against Sketch's pussy. Close and worked over, and with an orgasm built-up form an entire match of mauled breasts, she bucked her hips and came. Juices poured from her pussy, splashing out down her thighs, staining the floor under them until the tan carpet looked like the deep brown of rich and fertile soil. It was an overwhelming orgasm, and only the breast that filled her mouth stopped her from letting out the loudest scream of her life. Her hips pumped, she moaned and shook, and her juices poured so fast and heavy she was half-expecting her thong to be washed away like a kayak in whitewater rapids.

She didn't know how long the orgasm continued, but part way through, she did feel the Mayor's arm tense, hold her to her breast tighter, and she knew even without hearing or seeing just from the scent of her sweat that the other woman was orgasming as well. Whether her groans on the thick breast had sent her opponent crashing over, or she had realized she'd won and brought herself off, Sketch couldn't say. She just felt proud of having brought her to that point in their battle. Proud, a little light-headed from the lack of air, and overwhelmed by her orgasm, she could only shake through the pleasure. Finally, the orgasm stopped, and she collapsed to the ground, staring up at the ceiling.

The Mayor flopped heavily on her back, and Sketch groaned. The sound of her heavy body thumping ground was like the final bell to end their match. Sketch's one regret from it was not the result, there was no shame in being brought to orgasm by an all-time great, it was just the fact their encounter was over. At least, of course, once the customary moments of celebration were over.

After a few seconds, Sketch got enough breath back to force out the words, "You want... To take your prize?"

The mayor kept panting a few seconds before answering "Yeah," in a tone that implied it was all she could do to get the word out before taking another deep breath.

"What..." Sketch gasped after a few more breaths, "Do you want?"

The Mayor turned her head to the side and gave her a smile that was less like a mocking victor, less even like a powerful combatant, and more like an old friend excited to spend the day together.

In a voice far younger than her actual age, the Mayor asked, "Rematch~?"