If you are citizen of an European Union member nation, you may not use this service unless you are at least 16 years old.
You already know Dokkio is an AI-powered assistant to organize & manage your digital files & messages. Very soon, Dokkio will support Outlook as well as One Drive. Check it out today!

1 January 2019 Nina Agdal vs Anllela Sagra

Page history last edited by caspian2 4 years, 4 months ago

Posted by oddmanout on Jan 3, 2019 at 10:38am

Lynch, Ren & Rohrbach, Anllela has bested them all. “After I deal with this pesado, I’ll give Hannah time to recover, then I’ll take her and Yvonne and Kendall down!”

“Nuisance, am I? I’ll show her how much of an impediment I am when she’s on the sand looking up at me!” Nina feeling her oats after pounding out Clara Alonso.

Nina in red bandeau with black Xs tops and bottom. Anllela in multicolored triangle bikini, black gloves, hair long and windblown-wild

R1: Strangely intense stalking - girls in wide boxing stances, each poised on the ball of her right (back) foot; right hand at cheek; left hand lower, looser, ready to poke. Gentle clockwise rotation - eyes alert, staring into each other's gaze. With a stomp of the left foot planting hard, the girls pound in jabs - well schooled stampings of offending tummy, tits, mouth. Orderly turns taken, punches placed - then orderly circling as nostrils flare and brains process. Whenever they fall in - there's a moment's struggling, then each pulls away as though the touch of the other's flesh is repugnant. Fierce tactical first too close to call.

R2: Anllela barreling across the sand, swinging tuff-girl, Nina forced onto her back foot to parry and block raucous brunette punching at the open. Takes Agdal a minute to contain the jailbreak—fitting her jab into Sagra’s face, turning at the ropes, walking her onto rich body shots—by the third minute—Anllela’s trudging forward behind her mitts, unable to get off as Nina dictates, fighting well in retreat.)

R3: Anllela undaunted, keeps coming forward, Nina shying away: something about the resolute sturdiness of the Latin lovely giving Agdal pause. Sagra pinging jabs—not always landing—but she’s following up with clubbing rights and lefts when she gets close. Nina slipping and rolling shots, using the ring, basically taking the round off—offering only the odd disruptive tummy jab in response.

R4: Nina fades back from a jab, then leans back in with a smashing right, beating Anllela to her own right hand. Crowd shouting at the sudden clapping blast, Sagra stumbles out of the engagement without going down, but OH, the hurt. Agdal hopping forward with a limber, whippy rhythm, reaching out and cuffing tummy and tits, chasing stricken Anllela to the ropes. Sagra covering up earmuff, getting ripped as Agdal slugs. Nina twists into thumping rights and lefts, just a-belting, but Anllela won’t go. Sagra firming and slugging back, Nina maintaining position on ropes, battering the brunette, but it ain’t for free: Anllela able to scuff her up and tax her for the privilege of pasting away.

R5: Anllela just so stubborn! She's forward again, Nina looking slightly unnerved as Sagra keeps mounting steady pressure. Anllela's chopping punches continue as she knocks her way in behind the jab, then hacks at her blonde. Sagra in close, dips her right shoulder and chips short, six-inch right uppercuts, mopping up with hooks: Agdal getting pasted in the exchanges, starts to unravel. Minute and a half in, Nina staggers away from punishment - mouth open, eyes bleak: she's wobbly-butt, disheveled. Anllela walking her down, chopping a short right to jaw, then picking her up jagged, short left uppercuts 2 and 3 at a time. Agdal reeling, flabbergasted at Sagra's constant leather: Colombian stays on her, hounding her prey. Nina sitting in cables, legs in wide A-frame, torso bent forward as she tries to slip incoming fire: Anllela looming as she chops, hacks, chips, scrubs away and AGDAL GOES DOWN! Exhausted blonde drops to hands and knees, panting - she beats the count, but Sagra's smiling wide, hopping on the spot in the neutral corner!

R6: Anllela leading with right hands—splitting Nina’s guards, punching her head back. Agdal backpedals a few steps, firms, hooks chin; Sagra willing to take, chops a short, elbow-in right hand to Nina’s face and suddenly…HAMMER AND TONGS! Girls lathering away same short, hacking delivery from the shoulders—elbows in and mitts chopping left/right at offending faces and breasts. Blistering toe-to-toe for a few sizzling moments: Anllela buckles! Sagra staggering to her left, eyes wide—she stakes everything on a crushing hook, turning her torso into the blast, tucking in behind that left shoulder, catching Agdal clean! Nina rocked to her left—stumbling in fence postholes: SHE catches Anllela charging in with a rising left hook, pre-empting. Agdal steps into a hook—turning tight into the blast, follows up a choppy right from the shoulder—steps in and chops the left from her right foot. Walking barrage of face-punches drives Sagra to ropes: SHE RIPS A DESPERATION HOOK TO CHOPS! Anllela wobbly butt, saves herself from a jailbreak as Nina is momentarily stunned—HAMMER AND TONGS AGAIN as wonky beauties stabilize and churn away. Lefts and rights—LEFTS AND RIGHTS! Groggy, mindless leather shoving back and forth, pounding each other raw and AGDAL GOES DOWN! Sagra punching, punching, punching—just pure rock’em sock’em robots even as Nina’s wilting forward. Blonde on all fours, blinking, sobbing as Anllela stumbles along the ropes to corner as the ref starts the count. AND IT’S OVER! Count hits 10 and it’s a KO6 Anllela Sagra!

After: Nina gives it her all, showing tremendous promise as she gets a firm stick together, dictates a lot of rounds, backing Anllela up and making her look small at times with tuff right hands. Anllela too rugged to be halted, hotly denies ever having been hurt in the fight, but a puffy, sore looking face says otherwise. Agdal degraded as she’s hauled off her stool for a walk, Sagra packs dazed Dane into an inviting corner, mounts the ropes and poses instead: Left hand greedily tangled in Nina’s sweat-damp brown hair, right hand thrusting skyward in triumph as Sagra’s thighs and pelvis keep her prey pinned down. Nina all used up and helpless as flashbulbs preserve her discomfort for posterity.: