JMD BOUT
 

Originally posted by Simguy on 5/25/2007, 6:34 pm.

Before: Simpsy coming conspicuously heavier than usual—packing on Dani-Busting curves in an effort to compete directly on Dani’s own ground. At one press conference—girls standing, facing each other, each holding her own mic—Jessica in pink tshirt twist-tied ‘neath her jugs points here gesturing her index finger at Dani’s melons: “Those,” Jessi vows, “are never going to stop THESE,” here gesturing with that finger to her own world-class zepplins. Dani smirking—dressed in baby blue tshirt twist-tied ‘neath her jugs—responds: “Those,” mimicking Jessica’s finger waggle with sheer contempt, “aren’t the fattest psrt of your crappy little body anymore—PORKY!” That’s it: Jessica’s into Dani’s hair with a shriek—curvy little bodies rolling onto the dais, then down onto the floor—hellions clawing and digging, pink on blue; blue on pink; blue on pink—scattering press in their wake. Dani in navy bandeau bikini, large baby blue polka dots, white aerobics shoes and socks for a ballistic, stocky/curvy look. Jessica matching Dani curve for curve in pink “Dukes” bikini, white aerobics shoes and shocks. White gloves all around—hair loose and long down opposing backs.

During R1,2: Hurtling chaos—li’l jigglers banshee-wailing off their stools, catapulting into each other, pitching each other to canvas, then struggling all quivering thighs and backsides to wrestle on top, in  order to plug away at the trapped vixen underneath. Tawdry, tawdry stuff—girls heartlessly slamming punches from behind, on their knees while the other sits blinking, open –mouthed stupor. Girls cross-bodying each other, then slamming away right hands to tender tummies as the down-vixen wriggles and kicks her legs in outrage. At one point in the second round, girls tumble out of the ring onto the time-keepers table—legs thrashing—arms and fists kneading and mauling. Ref under constant duress—he’s exhausted—girl’re exhausted. Wild, reckless 6 minutes in to open: not one clean boxing-style punch landed by either vixen.

R3: Standing, slugging action as girl start to settle down, plant and pitch. Backs straight, eyes glaring, teeth bared—vixens punch straight lefts and rights at each other—gloves often intercepting and batting together as each girl slugs in criss-cross trajectory. Dani getting the better of this dutiful chugging—punching flat to Jessica’s shiny bface and bulging hooters. Simpsy brave—facing into the blows and answering back, giving ground very stingily as Fishel’s forced to fight as Fishel’s forced to fight hard for every inch of canvas. Bell: these girls are SPENT—hands on hips, deep dragging breaths, hair ragged and clamped to shoulders and breasts as each walks gingerly to respective corners.

R4: Crowd roars as Dani’s back hits the ropes: Jessica simply driving Dani back with a walking barrage of fists and shoulders. Fishel labouring, scowling in complaint—Jessi9ca leans into her stack—right palm rudely pushing Dani’s face back, then Jessi reached that right hand back, plunges the fist deep to Dani’s pudgy paunch. “OH!” Dani pitches forward, gutshot: Jessica very workmanlike here, lips curled off her teeth as she leans down, gets underneath, stacks Dani upright again.

Another plugging, flat right hand takes Dani in her tummy “UH!”

Another UHHHH!”

Another “UPP!”

Just sensuous, big-girl job of work here as Jessica puts body on Dani, stacks her up, rams her home, then starts all over again. Fishel ragged, swooning—Jessica just working methodically here, putting the extra weight to good use. Simpsy reaches under Dani’s beefy arms, chests her into ropes, then lifts the broad, beefy muscle of the right thigh up into Dani’s tired paunch! Meaty smack—cry of distress from Dani: Ref finally pulls Jessica away with a stern finger waggle as Dani’s gasping for breath. Chastised, Jessica walks back in, bodies Dani upright, jams a right hand into her midsection. With Fishel sobbing for breath—Jessi finally squares away and POUNDS Dani’s rack jackhammering little bleats and blurts of pain from her woozy foe. Bell: Jessi’s till stampin’—blonde in a little world of her own here, hammering away on Dani’s hooters.

R5: Both girls winded, deliberate in their movements, mouthbreathing—but it’s Jessica taking it to Dani—all around the ring. When they tumble to canvas in beefy embraces—it’s Jessie wriggling and scrambling her way on top, getting in cheap little digs until ref can pry her off/ When they go to ropes, it’s Jessica bodying Dani—bullying and banging, holding and hitting. Simspy frequently warned for lifting her right inner-thigh into Dani’s body while hugging Fishel up high under the arms. TE corner screaming objections from across the ring—Dani all hugging herself and cursing the official—Jessica petulant, frowning as she’s berated, then she wades right back on in to work on Dani. Round finishes up with Jessica riding her left arm across Dani’s back at the ropes, slumping Fishel forward for pumping right hands belly and breasts. Fishel open-mouthed, just sopping it up: ref has to enforce bell as beefy Jessica just keeps stuffing her girl full of leather.

SIMPSY/FISHEL JMD conc.

Originally posted by Simguy on 5252007, 6:35 pm/

R6: Plodding, tragic work now—both girls completely drained—wandering into each other and buffeting away at random. Fishel catching her second wind—driving Simpsy to ropes. Dani’s turn to push and stack Jessi upright, then draw the right hand back, thrust it home to midsection. Simpsy cramping forward, with wounded “UPP!” noises as Dani rams into breadbasket. Fishel’s back and shoulders shiny with sweat—hair clinging to her arms and chest as she slams away. Dani working out of the wrap now—riding HER left arm across Jessi’s shoulders, slumping blonde forward for plastering right hands belly and breasts. Simpson sobbing aloud—her right hand loose ‘round Dani’s lower back as Jessi’s curvy legs shudder and shake. Stack and jam, stack and jam—Dani just putting body on Simpsy and paying her back: it’s slow, sultry, beefy work through 6.

R7; Girls aren’t recovering during breaks—both are spent—they wander off their stools hands on hips, mouths wide open as they close. Sad, shabby slugging here—Dani with her left hand still on her hips as she clouts an overhand right to Jessica’s temple: Simpsy reeling to her right, stomping away with her back turned to Dani, buttocks cranky in pink. Dani stomping in, but wide open: Jessica suddenly wheeling with a right hand from South Texas clocks Fishel a looping roundhouse upside the head—twisting her 180 degrees to her right and sending HER staggering away all wobbly butt. Back and forth—exhausted wallops and walk-downs: punch for punch. It’s Jessica. Dani repeatedly bodies to ropes and abused: Jessica sloppy with her right hand, fetching Dani as much crotch as belly and breasts. Poor Fishel just sobbing out, pitching forward into Simpsy’s greedy arms, getting stacked as brutal, bludgeoning action reels into late innings.

R8: No rest foe either lass, no escape—sobbing, they fall together, holding and hitting, stamping around all stocky-legged and quivering tummies trying to find the other’s off-switch, Agonizing to watch—it’s just girls taking turns hurting each other, because neither can deny the other anything. At times, Dani might sag against ropes, her right arm across the top strand as she’s dragging in breath, while Jessi stands just a few feet away, doubled over, hands on knees, belly panting, body shuddering. They rally and attack from the brink of quitting time and again—each 100% committed to the destruction of the other, round to Dani for those scoring at home—but really, both are being used up through 8.

R9: Jessica on Dani at the ropes, working out of the wrap, plugging away those dutiful, cramming right hands tummy and its, tummy and its. Fishel sobbing now when we touched—just sobbing, jerking forward—face twisted in anguish as Simpsy plunders. Jessica pounds away to her heart’s content in that first minute, but tires: Dani able to belly up, wrestle her foe into the ropes and go onto the offensive. Same crude right hands jammed into trembling belly and hulking rack. Dani working out of the wrap, still crying herself, but drinking in the sobbing shouts of her foe like vintage wine. Thudding, sweat-sodden punches—Dani’s brawny, rounded bicep and shoulder going to work on Jess, processing her—and it’s all too much. Jessica finally droops forward

d, pitching into all fours. Dani steps back, hands on hips—head tilted back, she shrieks “YES!” then staggers away, too exhausted to pursue Jessica to canvas, Simpsy beats the count, but she’s ramshackle, reeling, crying: Dani plods back in to work her foe over crudely to the bell, Right hands jammed flat to jug, over and over: Simpsy just bleating in protest.

R10: Dan stomps to Jessica, pancaking Simpson in the Krusher corner. Janet Jones pursing her lips, crossing her arms, silent: she knows Jessica’s done—this is Dani making it official. Brutal, cramming right hands, then full-bodies stacking of Jessica. Simpsy whimpering all groggy and breathy—grunting as her as her belly or breasts get stuffed—eyelashes fluttering shut. Dani pushing in—squirming to keep her weight on, then ramming away one right hand at a time. Jessica just not competing—stacked up, helpless at the ropes. Simpsy’s head falls back at last, baring her  throat, hands drooping to her sides as Dani’s reloading the workmanlike right: ref jumps in and ends this thing before Fishel can bury it deep. TKO19 in barbaric, brutal fashion, Dani Fishel.

After: Simpsy slumped against ropes—hair all frizzy and bedraggled, clinging to her shoulders and breasts, long down her front. Dani standing right there, spitting out her mouthpiece, using her teeth to gnaw the tape off her gloves. Hungrily—she tells the ref “Get her gloves off.”

Jessica just slouching, eyes half shut, sullen, lips parted, her arms limp as the ref’s tugging at mitts. Dani finally doffs her mitts and leans in, reaching for Jessica’s damp skull—Simpsy still wears her right mitt as ref staggers back.

Fishel brutal with Simpson, roughly clamping her face to jug in a secure lock: left arm snug behind the neck; left hand clutching right bicep; right hand gripping a fistful of damp blonde hair atop Jessi’s skull. Poor Simpsy gloved right hand paws at Dani’s lower back, helpless: it’s just Dani giving it to Jessi, all one way.

No resistance from Jessica: butt in ropes, she sits and soaks, sopping up jug from Dani. Fishel in there strong, resting her left cheek against Jessi’s head, just letting muscular arms and bulging breasts do the hard work of putting Simpsy all the way out. Feeling her foe relax and soften—Dani finally releases—stepping aside to let sleeping blonde tumble face-first to canvas. Dani seething, hands on hips, still looking angry—TE corner finally approaching to coax their fighter away before Fishel is tempted to take extra.

Reposted by Archer 7/17/09.