Oil's well that ends well

From Torg Adventure

"Well," Sam says finally, after mulling it over for a few seconds. "I don't plan on losing, although I expect you to put up a good fight. And you're right. I've already bet so much that I might as well double-down at this point." Now that her mind is made up, she looks at you. "Do you accept the new terms?"

It's up to you to decide now. Despite her agreeing to putting pregnancy and motherhood on the line, Sam seems torn as she tries to read your decision from your face. Her words a moment ago had been confident, but she wouldn't have tried to alter the terms of the deal if she wasn't afraid of losing. Even if you agreed to wrestle her while she was covered in oil, she couldn't be entirely sure that would grant her a victory. Just the fact that she was willing to let you apply the oil yourself, knowing that it would almost certainly involve you feeling her up during the process, was telling. The flip side of this was that if she lost, she'd have to face the consequences of turning what had originally been an obligation to fuck her brother once into becoming his long-term lover, and now the mother of his child, or even children.

"I do," you tell her, after making her wait a few more seconds. You can't tell if she's relieved or not. Now she had to let you rub your hands all over her, and if she loses, she has the additional conditions of letting your knock her up and making her have your children.

"I'll get the oil," she says simply, turning and walking towards the bathroom. You wonder for a moment if she'll take the opportunity to leave through the other door in the bathroom to the rest of the basement, but she returns after just a few seconds, bottle of baby oil in hand. You shouldn't have doubted that she would return. Sam's sense of sportsmanship and her commitment to honor were what had gotten her into this mess in the first place, and presumably they would be what would make her keep her word if she lost, however distasteful she might find holding up her side of the deal.

She tosses you the bottle, which you catch in mid-air. Then she walks right in front of you before stopping and turning around. She reaches up and carefully holds her hair up, over her shoulders as her back is presented to you.

"Don't get any in my hair, Peewee," she tells, glancing back over her shoulder. "It will be a pain to get out."

Fair enough. You squirt out some oil onto your hand, then start applying it to her back. Her skin is silky smooth, but you can feel that it's mostly muscle and very little fat underneath.

Does Sam agree to your conditions? Do you agree to oiling her up? Or does the match continue as originally planned?