The screech of the metal bench vibrates right through my ribs, and I let out a strained grunt as your weight comes bearing down on my upper back. You're solidly built, Katherine, I'll absolutely give you that. My face is suddenly hovering just inches above the smooth wooden slats of the bench, and my initial momentum is completely dead.
"Didn't think you'd be this anchored," I tease through gritted teeth, my breath hot in the tight space between us as I strain against your hold.
I can feel the power in your legs keeping us locked in this stalemate, but I'm not about to let you just hold me here and drain my energy. If I can't go through you, and I can't lift you, I have to go around you.
I abruptly release the tight grip my right arm has around your waist. Instead of fighting your downward pressure, I drop my level just a fraction of an inch more to create a sliver of space, then aggressively pummel my right arm up and inside your hold, fighting hard to establish a deep underhook under your armpit.
At the exact same time, I step my right foot far to the outside of your braced leg.
"Let's see how your balance is!" I shoot back.
Using the edge of the bench against my hip as a fulcrum, I suddenly wrench my left arm—still wrapped tight around your lower back—while violently driving my new underhook up and forward. Simultaneously, I hook my right calf behind your knee, attempting a forceful outside leg trip. My goal is to completely upend your balance, twist us sideways, and send us both tumbling over the bench so I can land heavily on top of you on the mat-covered floor on the other side!
