Neither rival must tightly wrap their legs around those of their enemy’s, using calf and thigh muscles to grip and hold on to one another. For they each want this, more than either can say or admit. Needing to feel their tits press into their foe’s, and their stomach flatten against stomach. And though they may push and pull, rolling this way and that, locked together their bodies will stay, not because they cannot escape, but because they do not want to. They have found their heaven – their bliss, and it is in combat, and close-contact with the woman who plagues their every thought, and haunts their every dream.