[She hates to feel trapped. Sometimes she even hates to be on her back, under someone. Soft and exposed and trapped--there are good reasons for hating that. But that momentary seize is quickly overtaken by just how pleased Johanna is at the kiss, at the contact of Kate against her.
And then nothing else matters but the pressure of Kate's mouth on hers, and Johanna pushes up a little to meet that force, her fingers flexing on nothing, her toes curled where they press to the mat. Slowly, one of her legs draws up a little, trying to leverage some force against Kate--though for once not to flip her off, to try and roll over and get her in some choke hold. This is, momentarily, more interesting than choke holds.]
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And then nothing else matters but the pressure of Kate's mouth on hers, and Johanna pushes up a little to meet that force, her fingers flexing on nothing, her toes curled where they press to the mat. Slowly, one of her legs draws up a little, trying to leverage some force against Kate--though for once not to flip her off, to try and roll over and get her in some choke hold. This is, momentarily, more interesting than choke holds.]