Mixed Wrestling in Latex, Scissor Holding, Rough Facesitting, Feet on Face

I come out against him in a latex swimsuit that hugs every movement. He’s in a latex wrestling suit, his muscles tense, his gaze serious. He’s strong. You can feel it right away when we meet in the center. But I’m stronger. And much more agile. From the very first minutes, I don’t let him take the initiative. I escape holds, slip, use my speed and flexibility. Soon he’s on the floor. I lock my legs around his neck in a tight scissors and squeeze. He tries to break the hold with his arms, but I only increase the pressure, looking down. I don’t stop. I pound his body with palms and fists, hitting his chest, stomach, thighs. Then I add kicks. Latex slaps latex. He’s strong, he oppose, tries to roll me over, but each time I regain control and close the scissors again—on his neck, on his body, on his head. At one point, I sit on his face. I press my ass and pussy tightly, completely blocking his ability to breathe.