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Old 01-Aug-20, 14:12
Lovethegrapevine Lovethegrapevine is offline
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Default Scissored Despite Efforts To Resist

Her name was Becca. A former collegiate athlete, she was in her early twenties with dirty blonde hair that was cut just above the neckline. Her outfit consisted of a pair of black Nike Pro shorts and a white hoodie bearing her college logo. She had average legs, not too big, not too muscular, and not too small. Just right.

Prior to the session, she allowed me to rub her inner thigh. That was pleasant. It was smooth, warm to the touch, and surprisingly didn't have much give to them. They were firm and tight, just the way I like it.

She waited for me on the three seater couch. She sat in the middle with her legs spread wide open. Very sensually she glided one hand over her crotch and down the length of her thigh. She reeled me in with her index finger in the other hand. It was a sight to behold, and I was eager to get started.

I took a seat on the floor in front of the middle seat. Becca then scooted forward until her crotch touched the back of my head. Once we touched, I anchored my elbows onto the edge of the couch so that my fists were pointed to the ceiling like NFL goalposts. Now that we were in position, we were set to begin the session. It was like I was back in the weightroom doing a reverse chestfly. But instead of weights, the adduction of her legs would act as the resistance.

When we started, I squeezed my fists and flexed my biceps, but I was quite surprised at how quickly my elbows were pushed off the edge of the couch.

"Whoops. Did I start too early?" She said, giggling. "Lets try it again."

When we restarted, I provided greater resistance, but not enough to match the strength of her squeeze. I felf her crotch contracting and her groin make its way onto my neck. I pressed my back against the couch for additional leverage and engaged my arms as hard as I could, but it was tough to resist her pressure. Her legs were compressing my arms like a trash compactor. For context, use the reverse fly machine in the gym with the maximum weight. Unless you're an avid bodybuilder, it's unlikely you'll be able to perform the fly. This is exactly how I felt going up against Becca's legs.

Soon, her thighs were engulfing my ears. Things were put into perspective when I was able to see the lower half of her legs. When we started, she was sitting in a split behind me. Now, despite putting up resistance, her legs were slowly closing in on me. At one point, she paused and relieved some of the pressure on my ears.

I felt her hands playfully running through my hair. She then bent forward and rubbed her quads. I couldn't turn my head, but I could see her hand massaging her quad from the corner of my eye. With this pause, I tried to push her legs back, but they wouldn't budge. I didn't get it. Was she even trying? Were my arms that weak? Was she just toying with me? So many thoughts ran through my head.

"Alright. That's it," I said. "I'm done."

"What do you mean?" She said, innocently.

"I can't do this anymore. My arms are too tired."

It was true. The lactic acid was building in my arms from trying so hard to prevent her scissor, and it wasn't even doing me any good. If she wanted to get me in a scissorhold, she could, and she knew that. No amount of resistance would stop her. With that realization, I relaxed my arms and lowered them to the floor. I wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of humiliating me as I fruitlessly attempt to resist her squeeze.

"Go ahead," I said. "Do whatever it is you were going to do."

"Okay. If you say so."

I waited for the inevitable. I felt so embarrased and powerless. But I didn't have much time to dwell. Again, my ears were quickly smothered between her thighs. From there, I watched helplessly as her two ankles came closer to connecting. It seemed to be happening in slow motion. She really wanted to take her time and allow me to recognize every little feeling, such as the pressure that was soon applied to my jawbone, which was quite painful.

I tried to adjust my position, but I was stuck. After my jaw, the skin on my cheeks rolled up into the front of my face. It was as if someone was pinching me. I probably was beginning to look like a blowfish. I couldn't believe the amount of pressure that was concentrated on my jaw. It really hurt like hell. I was beginning to have second thoughts of lowering my arms.

In a second effort, I tried to slip my arms back into position, but it was too late. The fact that I even tried made her giggle and resulted in her applying even more pressure. She was having fun, for sure. At this point, most of my face was enveloped. The skin in her inner thigh was inches away from the corner of my eyes.

It started to get difficult to breathe when she crossed her ankles. I tried to take a breath, but I couldn't get in any air. In a panic, I gripped the top of her thighs to try to seperate them, but my fingers slipped off of them. I then tried to create a pocket of air for myself by prying at the tiny space between the front of my face and her inner thighs, but that was a futile effort. She just squeezed harder every time I made an effort to pry.

When my eyes started tearing, I was done. I tapped her thighs three times, but did she listen? After my third tap, she thrusted forward in one final nasty squeeze. I tapped my heels on the floor in apparent pain.

When she released me, I coughed and gagged and caressed my neck with my hands. I then circled my head to try to get the blood flowing again, and I massaged my jaw, which was still in pain. When I turned around, she was sitting very innocently in indian style with her palm over her mouth, as if she was saying that she was sorry to hurt me. She then winked and blew me a kiss. What a women.
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