Deep within the bronze and glass walls of one of Harlem’s most prestigious condominiums, rose an elevator filled with three, but headed to one. At the center of the group was Theo, a young man of means, propelled socially upward by a series of successes in the oil business, swept off from his rural ranch land home in Dallas, Texas, to his new sky-high loft in one of Harlem’s trendiest and most desirable neighborhoods and buildings. With him, in fact with one on each arm, rode Yvette and Yvonne, two African American women, blessed with bodies of a type written about by the great philosophe Sir Mix-A-Lot. The three had met at The Cherry Lounge, a local establishment owned by Dj Clue and Timbaland (two world famous producers).
Said club was one which Theo loved, despite the odd looks he got for being one of the only white men to enter through its well-guarded doors. It was the music he was after, though not necessarily the sound of it — as even though he had always had a certain obsessive affinity for rap music, he often found himself more taken by the culture that surrounded the genre, in particular, the women who frequented the scene. It was a unique and oft-chided appreciation, one which clashed, at least in stereotype, with his being a jean-and-boot–wearing farmboy, from the heart of the Lonestar State.
And yet, there, in all his conflicting glory, as bass-filled music thumped loudly throughout the club, Theo sat unaccompanied, in an alcohol-rich VIP suite. He, as always, wore jeans and boots. The latter being brand new and as expensive as he could find, just the latest in a series of conspicuous purchases, one that made him smirk, whenever he thought of it. Such a thought and such a smirk ended however replaced by another when suddenly two women approached the velvet rope which separated his suite from the rest of the club.
“Hi!” Yvette half-shouted, trying to be heard over the loud din of the music pumping throughout the club.
“Yeah, hey!” Yvonne followed with an equally amplified voice.
“Howdy, ladies.,e open seats next to him on the red-leather couch on which he sat.
“Can I join you?” Yvonne asked as she leaned over the rope which kept her from entering his suite uninvited.
“We! Can we join you!?” Yvette added, or more corrected, not wanting to be left out of a party with the club’s newest and most available baller, caucasian as he may be.
“Hell, why not! Let ‘em in big guy.” The wide-smiling VIP responded, his instruction meant for the large, tight-shirted bouncer who held firmly to the opening end of the velvet rope. Once allowed in, the two busty and thick black women wasted no time in joining their host, each taking a position next to him, Yvette on his left, and Yvonne on his right. Both women wore dresses of an incredibly tight and form-fitting variety, which came down only a centimeter or two past their incredible round and supple asses. One might assume, due to his more rustic roots, that Theo would be ill-prepared to take advantage of such a situation, or perhaps that he would be too shy to capitalize on women who saw themselves as predators and not prey, in terms of sexual acquisition. But Theo suffered from no such faults, or frailties, for he had been the king of kings in Dallas, making bar hopping, and women wrangling his two most favorite, and successful hobbies.
Stories could be told, books written, and even classes taught about his conquests — conquests which were won whilst he was still just a poor country boy — still just another Texan, with a cute smile, and butt that looked damn good in jeans.
Now, however, he was more, or at least had more. To offer. To use. To flaunt. And so he had, and so he did, enticing two women, of the type he wanted most, to take places, one under each of his arms. Neither wasted a moment with formalities or playing hard to get, making it clear what they wanted, and what they were willing to do for him — to him. And though he would take them up on their offer, he first wanted to enjoy the moment — the night — and in truth, a chance for them to get to know him. In such a venture, jokes were told, laughs had, smiles worn, and bonds formed. Surprised the two girls found themselves, that none of that fun and enjoyment was feigned or faked, even if that was the expectation and intent of each of them as they began their socializing.
For it was the case, that Yvette and Yvonne both saw Theo, before they even knew his name, as a rich white boy, who came down to a hood club to get his dick wet in some thick ebony booties. And in a way, they had pegged him right, but where they were wrong, was in thinking that they could navigate those familiar waters, with each other, without actually falling for him, his accent, and everything he brought to the table.
For with every movement and expression Theo made, both Yvette and Yvonne fell deeper and deeper into the shackles of his country boy spell. His accent was beautiful, his smile was intoxicating, and his hands were work-worn and strong, squeezing and fondling in a way only a working man could. In those same moments, Theo found himself falling too, not for one or the other, but for both — for they together. Their bodies were so similar. So thick and juicy. Yvette’s skin the color of a lighter caramel, and Yvonne’s the hue of rich dark chocolate. Their breasts looked as if reflections of the other’s, merely framed with different clothes, and painted different hues. Their asses no less similar, both round and big, in some places bouncy and others firm in exactly the way Theo wanted. There lips, oh how beautiful they were, full and plump — begging to be kissed with their every movement.
In that moment of mutual expectation-breaking mezmer, Theo luxuriated, ordering one drink after another for both he and they, absolutely gleeful at the prospect of finding not just one, but two women with whom he felt not only comfortable, but truly happy. Not alone was he in his appreciation for the moment either, as both Yvette and Yvonne had found their initial expectations shattered. Each having entered through the velvet rope believing that Theo was simply a mark from which they might drain cash and crystal, leaving him when his funds exhausted, or their eyes found another with better prospects. But now…. Now, as each of the girls stole quick and frustrated glances at one another, they found themselves falling deeper and deeper into the fit country boy’s trance. He was funny, cute, and rich — all things they wanted, not just for the night, but moving forward. Someone who could finally whisk them away from a life of chasing dollars, and drinks — riding dick for rent, and sucking it for to keep the lights on.
Those feelings, those desires, first surfaced and clashed, when each of the girl’s roaming hands met one another just over Theo’s sizeable cock, which still laid dormant beneath his bright, new blue jeans. There they grabbed, not for his member, but for the other’s hand, trying to tear it away from the cock they wanted all to themselves. Of course, neither was willing to accept such an interception of attention, both instead fighting back, by grabbing at each other, ending in their hands warring together not centimeters above Theo’s waiting rod.
Now some men might, out of a sense of fear or concern, try to stop the two from engaging in such a way — from struggling against each other, but not Theo. No, he had more than his fair share of cowgirls fight over him, both figuratively and literally, and was an expert at using such battles to his own benefit. A skill he intended to use, with the eventual goal of using the girls’ competition against one another, to bind them in a permanent fashion to him — not just the winner, but they two together. That plan in mind, he ignored their hand battle, instead using the thought of it to get himself hard, so that his dick would rise up as close as he could muster to the the middle of it. Given how exciting the thought of two women fighting over him was, and always had been, it didn’t take long for his focus to result in a rock-hard cock, one which struggled against his jeans, trying to stand up straight, though finding itself only barely restrained by the denim.
The sight of the country boy’s erect member, and their desire for it, drove both girls to release each other’s hands, and to instead latch onto it, or at least as much of it as they could under such a heavy material. Yvette took the top nearer the tip, and Yvonne took the bottom, nearer Theo’s balls. And though there was room for both to hold on, as soon as they tried to stroke, their hands ran right into each other, stopping any movement, either Yvonne up or Yvette down. It was that unintended collision that turned unspoken frustrations into spoken ones, and the two women’s cold war hot.
“Bitch, get off his dick!” Yvette spat, not yet willing to concede even a moment of sharing Theo’s body.
“You first, hoe! Theo’s mine!” Yvonne responded, her mind on sharing in no more charitable a place. The words being passed back and forth, as each woman clung tightly to his cock, brought a smirk to the country boy’s face, but no words yet to his lips, as he leaned back, and flexed his cock, trying to escalate the conflict between the two, by bringing what each wanted back into their minds.
“I ain’t playin’ wit’ you, bitch….” Triggered by the flex, and her desire to feel such deep within her, Yvette threatened, as she leaned over Theo, so that her face came to the exact center of his chest.
“Hoe, I ain’t playin’ wit’ you!” Matching her rival’s move as she responded, Yvonne leaned forward, bringing herself nose-to-nose with Yvette, their faces hovering only about a foot or two above Theo’s cock. The commotion, had caught the ear of the bouncer standing just off the suite, who turned to see what Theo wanted him to do about the escalating conflict between the two women. In response, Theo smiled, and waved him off, letting him know that he had the situation well under his own control. Oblivious to that wordless conversation, the two continued to argue.
“Yo lips ain’t even thick enough fo him.” Yvonne continued, moving her own face forward, so that her bottom lip was only an eyelash’s length away from that of her rival’s, intending for Theo to compare the two closely.
“My lips ain’t no different than yours, hoe, feel.” As the last word passed her lips, Yvette too pushed herself forward, pressing her lips into Yvonne’s, not in a kiss, but instead in such a way that the very tips of both sets touched only lightly. At first, Yvonne wanted to pull back, and away, not wanting to kiss her rival, or even have their lips touch in such a way that someone might think they were kissing. But just as she went to withdraw her lips, the sound of the VIP privacy curtain being pulled closed by the bouncer hit her ears, and gave her the feeling of just enough security not to pull away.
“Bitch.” Yvonne insulted in a barely audible whisper, making sure to keep her lips firmly affixed to those of her rival’s, now more than committed to the comparison, and almost ashamed that it was she who almost conceded such a battle.
“Fuck you, trick.” Came in an equally suppressed volume, Yvette too keeping her lips engaged, as she stared deeply and angrily into her foe’s eyes. The moment was intense, for sure, and their glare hateful, but just as the two seemed to be mere seconds away from attacking each other, Theo took control.
“Girls, it’s time to go.” The country boy stated firmly, as he wrapped his arms around both, and stood up, bringing them both with him, the two only allowing their lips to separate when they could no longer physically keep them touching. Not long after, they each found themselves in an elevator, the elevator in which we first found our group of three.
“I don’t know why you coming, less you just gonna watch me fuck him.” The statement of confusion came from Yvonne, who like her counterpart, clung to one of Theo’s arms as the elevator continued upward. As she spoke, she began to linger forward, wanting more than she ever would have expected to engage her rival lip-to-lip again with her competition.
“The only one who goin’ be watching fucking is you. I’ll make sure you jus’ laying there next to us, trick, so you can see how good I do ‘em.” Having noticed her enemy’s forward move, Yvette followed suit, not just because she felt that she had to, but instead because she too wanted to continue their comparison, confident that her lips were the better set.
“Please … girl … I wouldn’t want watch you fuck anybody, especially with your body looking like that.” The insult was spoken by Yvonne, as she again, drifted forward, challenging her rival to meet her.
“Your body ain’t no better than mine, bitch. Imma ‘bout to show yo ass.” Threat issued, Yvette accepted her enemy’s challenge, she too moving forward, expecting to meet her opponent’s lips with her own, but instead finding Theo’s, who had leaned forward and engaged both girls in a passionate threeway kiss. Tongues lashed back and forth against one another, as each lost track of whose was whose, and who they hated and who they wanted to call their own. The moment, and Theo’s decision to intervene was perfect, causing he and his two warring women to pull close to one another in a tight embrace. There, standing between their molten hot figures, he used his hands to grab their asses, which to the touch jiggled like jello, a perfect mixture of muscle and flesh, slapping, tapping, and pushing them, to compare their near identical consistencies. With and amongst his thorough booty examinations, he pushed their bodies and breasts together, before suddenly pulling back, upon reaching his personal floor. There, and once the doors to the elevator had opened, the country boy pulled himself completely away from they two, leaving them still locked together from head to toe, tongues still swirling in each other’s mouths. .
One might expect that with his withdrawal, the two would immediately break away from each other, both in kiss and embrace, but Theo knew better. Knew that once he brought their tongues and bodies together, that they would not be able to resist the urge to taste the flavor of what their rival’s offered, and to test their own against it. And that they did indeed, with hands running up and down each other’s curvaceous bodies, tightly clinging to one another, with their tongues moving in and out of each other’s mouths. It was only as the doors began to close that the two finally broke apart, near breathless, and turned back to Theo, and his condo’s entrance, in a dizzy almost lust-drunk confusion.
“Y’all coming!?” Theo shouted from within the loft, though neither could see him.
Quickly each began to search for Theo, unsure where he was, or why he left them so abruptly. Despite that confusion, they found him lying on his center-loft bed, his large erect cock pulled out of his fly, and his eyes looking hungrily at each of them. Knowing what Theo wanted, Yvette and Yvonne shot each other a challenging glare, before they rushed over to him, as if racing to take their place first. Once they arrived, near simultaneously, they each dropped down to their knees on either side of him on the bed, before looking to Theo for instruction.
“Now girls, I know y’all don’t want to share little old me, but in this bedroom, I am the man. The MAN! Which means, I’m in charge. And so I don’t care if you two fight, go right ahead, as long as you do what I say. Got it?”
“This trick ain’t no fight! She ain’t worth yo time, or mine!” Yvette blurted out from her knees, as she snapped her head back and forth, keeping her gaze locked on her rival’s.
“Fuck you…. She just scared. See, I’m devoted, Theo. Whatever you want, baby, I’mma do.” Yvonne countered, as she used her hands to take off Theo’s belt.
“I ain’t afraid, bitch! And you best believe I’ll do whatever Theo says too. What do you want us to do, baby? Hmm…?” Not willing to be seen as resistant or uncommitted, Yvette quickly gave her assent, as she began to aid Yvonne in taking off Theo’s belt and blue jeans.
“Alright….” Once his pants had been taken off by the girls, Theo pulled off his own shirt, and laid back on elbows, angled upwards, while still lying on his bed. “Take off your dresses, both of you.” His command wasn’t cold, per se, but instead determined. He knew exactly what he wanted, and exactly how he was going to play the situation to get it. For their part, the competing black girls quickly complied, reaching down, and pulling their dresses up, and over their heads. “Mmmm, nice. Now, take off yer bras, even though yer lookin mighty fine in em.” Despite being off-put by the inclusion of the other in the complement, they again did as told, each removing their bras, in so doing each let their massive tits loose, nipples already hard — ready for what was to come.
And though things seemed to be going smoothly, the two girl’s eyes locked, when their clasps came undone, and a momentarily-suppressed fire again began to burn within them once again — a fire which was made evident when Yvette threw her bra in Yvonne’s face. Yvonne, not willing to take even the smallest provocation without reprisal, threw her own bra at Yvonne, leaving both girls caught in a mutual glare as their rival’s bra slowly fell from their face, to their large and now unrestricted chests, and then down to the floor.
“Ok, girls, you want it that way? Let’s have a little ‘wrassling’ match then. Whoever can take the other’s panties off first, gets the inaugural ride of this cowboy. But I ain’t talking ‘bout no fight. Just ‘wrassling’, No punches. No kicks. Not even hair pulling too hard. I want to see who can use their body better, if ya know what I mean.”
As Theo spoke, his two little chocolate went with on an emotional roller coaster. You see, both girls sounded street. Looked street. And wanted to world to think, they were street, but in reality, they couldn’t have been less so. Yvette and Yvonne had both grown up in a nice house, in a white neighborhood, and were actually cheerleaders at their high schools, though they hadn’t told anyone that in years. It wasn’t cool. It didn’t fit the scene. And so when Theo seemed to be suggesting that the two fight, a cold chill ran up their spines. Because despite all the curse words, and ebonic talk, neither had ever been in a fight, or even close to being in one. That fear however, was quickly alleviated, as their country boy explained his rules. Still though, even in their state of relief, they were each still worried. What if they looked silly? What if they lost to the other? Was that it? Was the night over for them? Would they be thrown out into the hallway naked or something? It didn’t matter, for they each had no choice but to do what they were told, or risk losing, without even a chance to play the game.
“Alright, let’s see it, girls.” Theo prodded in a comment that started both women towards one another, their hands out to their sides, fingers spread, in an almost sad, but honestly adorable emulation of what they had each seen other girls do in the movies when combat between them began. Finally, despite the intentional slowness of their movements, the two met just at the foot of the bed, clasping hands, and pressing tits together. And though each felt a burning and intense passion for Theo, and winning his heart for themselves, such was not fully revealed in their ‘wrassling’ struggle, for a multitude of reasons.
One, they had no idea what they were doing, or how they could effectively use their strength, even if they brought it to bear. Two, each was mortified that they would take things too far, and be admonished by Theo for turning things into a fight, when he wanted something far less violent. Three, the two women made the bet, without discussing it, that what Theo really wanted to see, was a show. To see them writhe together. Giant breasts, pressing against the same of their opponent. Thick thighs wrapping around the same of their rival. Perfectly round and ample butts giggling, as the two wrestled each other for control. And so rather than let out their anger, frustration, and jealousy now, they decided in an unspoken agreement, communicated by a lack of resistance alone, to give him what he wanted, saving their energy and true passions for the battles that would come afterward.
That being their mutual plan, they two planned to accentuate every contact, and let linger ever hold that a man might find pleasing. Such intent was enacted from the very first move, as the two ebony beauties clasped their fingers tightly, hands and arms held straight out from their sides. In such a lockup, they pressed their breasts into each other, letting tit flesh spill out from either side of their press, only to be once again gathered, and reasserted in the next adjustment of bodies. And as such a collision of chests went on above, so did one begin below, as Yvonne and Yvette each placed a single thigh between the other’s legs, and though they pretended it was for leverage, they instead used it to make it appear the two were grinding on each other. A sight they knew would please Theo, and in that assumption they were right — a passing grade given to them as each caught Theo, out of the corner of their eyes, stroking the cock.
So much was equal about them, so much was thick about them, that they each began to feel as if they were wrestling against themselves. Every curve mirrored. Every flat shared. Different only in the shades of their beautiful black skin. An equality which began to surface in a way less visible, as soft, barely audible moans began to escape both of their lips, just as they brought their heads down to rest on the other’s shoulder. What? How? Why? They each began to ask themselves, unsure how wrestling, feigned for another could possible be turning them on. It was all an act, they thought, until they came to notice that on each grind done for Theo’s benefit, their nipples danced together, and remained with unconscious intention, permanently affixed to one another’s. Until they realized that the thigh they had located between the other’s legs for appearance alone, was actually rubbing against the clit of their rival, and that they, without even known it, were rubbing their own clit on the leg of the same.
At the realization, and in horror, they each looked up to the other, anger and confusion in their faces. But as their eyes scanned their rival’s visage for an explanation, of some answer as to what was happening to them, they found their gaze firmly drawn to the lips of the the other. The lips they had tasted. The lips they had tested. The lips they wanted to meet again with their own. The lips which….
Suddenly together pressed, again not in a kiss, per se, but in a sensual touching nonetheless. There, in that moment, they continued to grind together…. Their hot breath filling each other’s mouths…. Their lips moving up and down together, as each mouthed threats and challenges to the other, without sound or hesitation…. Their tits mashing, and nipples fencing…. Their dripping cunts, rubbing back and forth on each other’s pumping leg…. For a moment they together lost all semblance of control and concentration until suddenly, Yvonne felt the quick removal of her rival’s thigh from between her legs, and the telltale feeling of the fabric of her panties, falling come down from her wet pussy, down to the carpeted floor below her.
“I win!” Yvette exclaimed, as she pulled away from Yvonne and took off her own panties in anticipation, leaving the bested black beauty beside herself with the feeling of betrayal, rage, and regret.
“Bitch ass dyke!” Yvonne charged at her victorious rival, intending to this time wrestle her for real, but no sooner did she start out, than did Theo, who had stood up, intervene. “Nope! Sorry little lady, fair is fair.” The country boy said, as he took grasp of one of each of their hands, before he led them both back to the bed. There he pulled off his shirt, and laid back once again, this time, motioning for Yvette to climb atop his still rock hard cock, as he had promised to she who claimed the other’s panties, and then, much to her relief, for Yvonne to climb atop his face.
Neither questioned, or complained, instead wasting not a moment before they took their seat, each feeling Theo enter them, Yvette by his dick, which after the preceding show was wet and ready for action, and Yvonne by his tongue, which he used like an artisan, causing her to scream out in pleasure, not moments after he began to work it against the walls of her cunt.
On it went, with both girls grinding themselves down, as he pushed his tools up, causing his two competing lovers equal pleasure — equal ecstasy, but apart from the the similarity of their vocal reactions, Theo was blind. To their glares. To their gestures. To the way they began to lean towards each other, only slowed by the shaking which took to each of them with every stroke the country boy produced.
And though they found themselves slowed, distracted, and almost unable to focus on anything other than the pleasure being given to them, they each finally found the fortitude to reach out, and dig their fingers deep into each other’s hair. With that grasp they did not pull, or yank, instead each simply held on, not wanting the other free to do as they would a top the man they wanted for their own. Such vices applied, the two African American beauties continued to ride, wave after wave of pleasure washing over them — until the intensity of it all took from them their ability to do anything other than lean even further forward, pressing their foreheads together, just to keep from fainting. The weakness caused by Theo’s carnal battering, and lapping, caused each girl to grow weaker, and weaker still, until their leaning, became laying, dangling breasts pressing together, each only able to remain upright with the help of the other.
Quickly however, such reliance and aid began to falter, as Yvonne began to feel Theo moaning into her own tongue-attacked cunt. She could tell he was close. That if she did not do something, he would cum — into the sex of her rival, likely bringing an end to her chances of earning his interest over she. And so in an instant she made a decision, and in only one other, she decided to act, mustering what strength she could, to with a single, thick thigh-aided mega scootch forward, take herself off of Theo’s incredibly agile tongue. As she did so, she raised her hands, and in a powerful shove, pushed Yvette off of the country boy’s pussy juice-covered cock. A cock Yvonne then tried to take for her own, as she raised up her hips, and tried to lower herself down atop it. Yvette, not willing to share, or concede a prize she won, pushed herself back up, and forward. In mid-air her tits, stomach, and pubic mound met her rival’s, resulting in both being knocked back, each of their cunts opening just enough for each to slide down either side of Theo’s cock. As they came to a rest, Yvette found herself sitting just above the country boy’s balls, and Yvonne sitting just below his stomach.
Glaring at each other, they each sat frustrated, whilst Theo remained intentionally silent, using the moment to flex his cock again, hoping to insight some form of re-engagement between the two. A hope which came true, as both women launched up and forward again, each trying to land themselves atop his pulsating cock, each desperately wanting it within them, and to themselves. But again did they meet in mid-air. Again, knocking each other backwards. And again their cunts, only barely off-angle, opened and slid down his cock, causing Theo to shudder with excitement and pleasure.
Feeling the reaction of the country boy, and hoping to please him by giving him more of what triggered it, each of the chocolate beauties set their hands down on the bed below them, and leaned themselves back. Once balancing themselves in such a way, they each in unison thrust their hips forward, up, and then slowly down on either side of his dick. To any who might have been watching, it would have appeared that the two rivals were tribbing each other, and in fact, upon every stroke, as much did happen, with clit meeting clit at every apex, and lip caressing lip, all the way down. And though it wasn’t necessarily meant to, the combined stimulation caused they two pleasure, eliciting from each a loud a guttural moan. In secret, the two enemies began to press harder into their thrusts, hoping that they could earn more and more contact with the other, as Theo bucked wildly below them.
“Oh mah gawd!” Theo cried out, trying to think of baseball, and grandmas, and anything else he could to keep himself from cuming. But as much as he wanted to resist it, to let them continue tribbing on his cock, something that felt so incredibly good that he came close to passing out, he could not. So then quickly, before he had completely crossed the edge, he pulled his cock out from between their perfectly shaped thighs, so that he could come down from the highest highs he had ever known, and save himself the chance to continue on with this wild night in New York.
His sudden and unexpected retraction caused the two girls, who had subconsciously thirsted for more direct contact with each other, to find their thighs fully crossed, and their clits colliding together harshly. Their eyes, at the contact, shot open, and locked on, each looking to the other for some answer as to what they should do, without Theo’s instruction, or cock over which to fight over.
As their eyes negotiated, neither moved, relented, or pulled back from their last trib thrust, leaving themselves pushing clit against clit with all of their might, their legs crossed, and bodies stretched out atop Theo, who continued to recover beneath them. But as second after second passed, and they continued their pubic press, trying to decide what to do with each other, pleasure turned to pain, and lust to anger once again. Such change led them to forego balance, for angle, and steadiness for strength, each determined to … to … well, neither really knew, other than that they did not want to be the one to give in. Such focus, and abandonment, led each to find themselves unstable atop their quarry, and while in such a precarious state, they together began to tumble down off of Theo — each still scissoring the other — each still pushing their clit against that of their rival.
Together they landed, on the side of the country boy’s bed, their scissor broken, and their bodies detached from one another, each laying on their side. Without even a second of discernible delay, the two pulled themselves to their knees, and reached out for two handfuls of the other’s hair. Once acquired, the two rivals began to pull violently, whipping each other from side to side, every careen threatening to send one or both of them crashing down to the ground. Out of pride and rage, they each tried to remain engaged, clinging desperately to their grips on the other’s locks, despite the strength of their enemy’s oppositely angled yanks. Too angry had they each become with the other, however, and too furious were each of their tugs, for either to resist the efforts of the other for long. And so, after only a minute of such struggle, did they both find themselves forced to release their grip on the other’s hair, as they each sent the other crashing down on their side, to the carpet below, each facing in the opposite direction — Yvette’s head landing in front of Yvonne’s well-trimmed crotch, and vice versa.
A moment passed, as each recovered on the floor, until their eyes in unison opened, and each of the women laid their eyes on, and then chose their new target. One which led them both to scootch their bodies forward, each intending to pry their rival’s thighs apart. Despite that intention, both girls’ legs were each too strong to be forcibly pulled apart by the meager force of the other, but in truth, neither required it. As in a strange, mutual, and almost welcoming way, they each accepted their new battle, by opening their perfectly thick thighs wide to one another, in so doing, inviting their enemy in, only sealing tightly their beautiful black legs around the other’s head when mouths had been fully applied to their sex.
At first, they were gentle with one another’s pussy. Nibbling lightly as a form of examination, biting as a warning of what each could inflict, were either’s headscissor to become too tight. Between said uses of teeth, they licked, tasted, and probed, wanting to know exactly what their rival had, and how she would react with each stroke, and every insertion. In that way, they danced, parried, and communicated, each girl paying intense focus to what the other was conveying and revealing through her acts of carnal carnivoirie. But as seconds passed into minutes, and Yvonne began to feel secure in their offense-minded 69, she decided on a tactic she knew would take her opponent by surprise. Namely, to forego for the moment, any bites or attempts at inflicting pain, and to instead, go full bore into trying to get Yvette off.
That goal in mind, Yvonne reached around, and after using her rival’s ample ass cheeks to pull herself closer, she drove her tongue deep into Yvette’s cunt, though only after letting her tongue slide down her delicate and exposed clit. Once done, Yvonne did it again, and again, until finally she abandoned formula, for passion, unleashing a full barrage on her enemy’s pussy.
Yvette, in stark relief, did not know what to do, and did not reciprocate, as she was not at all interested in truly pleasing a woman with whom she was engaged in battle. Despite that resistance, and her initial plans of doing more with the hold, she found herself so turned on, and so ravaged by her rival’s tongue, that she forgot all of her goal, and situation. In fact, so great was her distraction, that she let her drooling mouth drop from Yvonne’s pussy, and simply laid there on her enemy’s pillow-like thigh, moaning loudly, unable, and frankly unwilling to fight back or counter attack.
Closer and closer she came to release, her moans and screams of ecstasy echoing off every wall of the loft, until finally, when Yvonne felt that Yvette was just about to give her a taste of her sweet juices, Yvonne retracted her tongue, and bit down hard. The attack was vicious and violent, so much so that the only juices released by Yvette into Yvonne’s mouth were drops of blood, drawn painfully from the deepest reachable linings of her pussy. For her part, Yvette screamed in horror and pain, wildly squirming, trying desperately to escape Yvonne’s powerful thighs, and devastating bite. Yvonne, however, did not relent, instead switching from a hard bite to a strong suck, wanting to take in as much of her rival’s bite-drawn blood as she could, knowing that every drop would be more than useful in taunting her when they separated.
A separation that quickly came about, as Theo, now recovered, and ready for round two, pulled the two girls apart, and brought them up to their feet. Once there Yvonne laughed maniacally, and Yvette sobbed, her hands holding tightly to her wounded pussy.
“I tell y’what, I leave you two to yourselves for 5 minutes, and we’re ‘bout to need an ambulance.” As he joked, Yvette looked to him plaintively, her tears still coming, and her pussy still aching. And though she looked like prey, Yvonne like predator, her lips stained with blood, and her eyes boring holes into her rival, as she looked her up and down, sending the clear message that she would hurt her again, if she had the chance.
“Alright, y’all wanna use your mouths, here.” With that, Theo pulled the two over, and laid back down on the bed, bringing one of the girls on either side of him. “Double blow job. And work together.” As his command ceased, their eyes met, Yvette’s still coated with tears, and Yvonne’s still shining with the after effects of such a harsh and one-sided victory.
Despite the intensity of their last engagement, the two turned their heads to the side, move forward, and connected the tips of their lips once again, this time around Theo’s fully erect cock. Together they worked, each on their own side, not together, but instead against one another, trying to impress the country boy with their ability to use both tongue and mouth to tantalize and please. What better way, they each thought to themselves, to let Theo see how much better they were than their rival, than to let him feel their skills simultaneously, on either side of his rod.
In that competition they warred, his rod playing the role of battlefield, each of the two girls making sure their lips remained touching at all times, as to make sure the pleasure they gave was never separated, so that Theo could better compare the two. In that role of both judge and jury, Theo laid back and enjoyed, only noticing the most miniscule of differences between the two and their head-giving abilities, each being a true master at the craft.
Minutes passed, with each girl passionately trying to get Theo to cum, and prove they were the better lover, but even after they had nearly exhausted themselves, they each found Theo not even close to release, and showing no signs of approaching it. And though Theo loved every moment of it, he could tell that each of his competing girls were tiring — their tongues each slowing, and their ascents up and down his cock coming at a less and less frequent rate. Knowing that neither would allow themselves to quit, not without fearing that it would be seen as a loss to their rival, Theo used his hands, which had already rested on the side of each girl’s heads, to grab a handful of their hair, and pull their lips apart, and off of his cock.
“Rest y’mouths, girls, and show me which one of you got the better tits to fuck.” As each girl took a much needed moment to breathe, rest, and process his request, Theo began to shift his hips to the left, and then to the right, slapping his dick against each of the girl’s heaving chests, not allowing either to lose their fire for him, and each other. That move was all that each girl needed to dive in, wrapping their ample tits around their half of Theo’s saliva-slicked cock, their excess flesh meeting and sealing together at the nipple.
Aided by their cupping hands, both Yvette and Yvonne used every inch of their massive ebony breasts to try and encompass the entirety of the farmboy’s giant white cock. In that attempt, and even with its admirable size, Theo’s member began to disappear between the two women’s pressing chests, leaving only its tip sticking out of the top of their mashed flesh. A tip which the two then hid within their mouths, as they sealed their lips together again, over the top of it, happy for a chance to rest, but each growing strangely addicted to their lip-to-lip contact.
At that point, having reconnected, and fully engulfed Theo’s cock, the two began to rise and roll — squeeze and slather, no longer encumbered by exhaustion, given the change of weapons and ways. In that new and competitive state, the two ebony beauties once again began to try to match and outdo the movements of their rival — each trying to use what they considered their best asset, ones that were near equal in terms of size, not only for each other, but also the man they wanted desperately impress.
“Oh, yeah, Just like that.” Theo instructed quickly, his voice stuttering with pleasure. And though there eyes were at first closed in focus, it did not take long for them to open them and lock them together in gaze, at the sound of Theo’s fist moan, one they both had failed to elicit with their mouths. It was only the first of many, as the formerly silent country boy began to tense beneath them in pleasure. As a consequence of their shared glare however, and the fact that Yvette could still taste the blood from her own pussy on Yvonne’s lips, anger and frustration began to well within her. A rage that grew and grew, as the Texan got closer and closer to cuming in their still-connected mouths, top lips pressed together, just above the center of Theo’s rod. Yvette did her best to restrain herself, trying to focus on Theo, and out tit-fucking her rival, but such control was lost, when Yvonne gave a single wink as the two continued to glare into each other’s eyes, an act which drove Yvette nearly mad with rage, she wanting desperately to pay her enemy back for what she did to her pussy earlier.
Her emotional levee broken, and concentration forfeit, Yvette stood up, just enough to rise off of Theo’s dick, making sure to keep her lips connected to Yvonne’s, before attempting to dive forward. Yvonne, for her part, knew such a move was coming, having seen it in her rival’s eyes, and matched it at the last second, causing both girls to crash together above Theo, before coming down in a landing upon him. There, together, they rolled back and forth across their quarry’s body, each using their hands to try to spank and scratch, their mouths remaining sealed together, though just as they had done all night, not in anything that could truly be called a kiss.
“Bitch!” Yvette whispered hotly, her lips dragging those of her enemy along for every syllable.
“Slut!” Yvonne responded, her lips too bringing her rival’s along for the ride.
“Hoe!” The caramel skinned girl continued, finding herself oddly turned on by the fact that their curses found themselves disappearing into each other’s mouths, and that their own lips were finding themselves mouthing insults spoken against their owner.
As the two continued to wrestle, this time for real, each uttered so many curses and insults, that Theo could not tell who was saying what to who, or what was even being said, each of the vulgarities hidden and muffled by their mouth-to-mouth connection. It was a situation, that even he, in all his calmness and surety began to worry about, as he and his abandoned cock began to scootch back up to the top of the bed, his ebony beauties still rolling together beneath his feet. But much to his satisfaction he noticed that though the girls wrestled with one another, they did so without any attacks meant to truly hurt each other, instead using their engagement to press their bodies together as hard and as completely as possible. Pressing their tits together, flattening stomachs against that of their enemy’s, and locking naked thighs around one another. Facts that let Theo know that though they had let their feud reignite, and their anger get the better of them, they were each, still interested more in testing themselves and each other, and not ridding the other from their or Theo’s life.
Knowing that, and wanting to take control of the situation, Theo sat up, reached down, and wrapped his arm around each of the girls at they rolled, lifting them back up to either side of him. In that repositioning, they did not fight, apart from wrapping their arms around each other’s necks, unwilling to let even the man they each wanted to pull their lips from away from those of their rival, so addicted they had become to the feeling of it. That small resistance left both Yvonne and Yvette on all fours, and Theo lying beneath them, their amazing tits dangling down in his face.
“Tell her why you think you’re better, hun.” The Texan requested, to neither in particular, as he began to take turns sucking and biting on each of the four nipples which hung down in front of his mouth.
“My lips. My tits. My ass. My thighs.”Each began to list together, speaking directly into their rival’s mouth, their lips still connected, each sharing their every breath and every inhale. As they so spoke, they both reached out and down, and began to fondle Theo’s cock, which remained as iron, he still being excited by their conflict, though they had once again turned their interest to one another for the moment.
“Mine are thicker! Bitch, you can’t even twerk!” Quickly their list became arguments, and their boasts a battle, each trying to convince not just their rival, but also themselves and Theo of their superiority. As they each brag, boast, and deny the qualities of the other, they continued to glare into each other’s eyes, and once again, just as before, that locked gazed started driving them crazy with jealousy and hate. From there, madness took them, turning their still-applied one-armed neck hold on the other into a vice-like bearhug, pulling the other close, and as consequence, their tits began to seal tighter and tighter together.
Together they continued to squeeze, and argue lip-to-lip, until suddenly both realized that the cock they each held and stroked, once rock-hard, had become flaccid and unresponsive to their combined touch. That realization gave birth to another, as the ebony beauties released each other, and reluctantly pulled apart, there finding that Theo was unmoving and seemingly dead, a victim to an unintentional smother caused by their anger-fueled bearhug.
Looking at his beautiful face, eyes closed, no breath being taken, brought each girl crashing back into their rage once again.
“You fucking killed him, bitch!” Yvonne screamed out, tears flooding her brown eyes.
“Me!? What, hoe!? You killed him! I loved him!” Yvette responded in shock and anger, outraged at the very thought that it was her who killed the man she wanted.
“No you didn’t! I did!” Yvonne shouted back, before they two dove at each other again, this time wrapping their fingers around each other’s throat. In a clump they then landed atop Theo’s body, each trying to choke the life out of the other, causing them to roll, once again across Theo, and down to the floor beneath the country’s boy’s feet. There, at the foot of the bed, their fingers tightened, and grips strangled, each pulling the other closer and closer, so that they could feel as every breath of their rival became shorter and shorter. And even though at that moment, they could not have hated each other, or anyone, any more, or any more passionately, as their bodies and faces pulled together, they found themselves strangely compelled. Out of a sense of proving who would have been better for Theo, or who truly loved him perhaps, they each found themselves drawn to once again press their lips together, just as each stole from the other their every last breath. Driven by that same lust for competition and finality, they unconsciously began to aim their squirming and struggling pelvises forward, until clit rammed against clit, the first contact followed by a second and a third, leaving the two to hump each other wildly, as each began to drift off into oblivion.
Towards such a fate, and one final climax for one or both of them did they charge. At first, neither relinquishing, or loosening their squeeze. Each committed to not only kill the woman they held responsible for ending the man they wanted, but also proving to her in their final moments who was truly the better woman for Theo. Harder, and harder their thrusts became, each feverishly trying to bring the other to orgasm before their mutual strangle stopped them forever. But in their effort, exhaustion, and the effect of such an intense struggle without oxygen, the two began to succumb to their exhaustion, causing their grips to weaken, their chokehold to soften, and their violent thrusts to become slow grinds into one another.
“You gonna die, bitch….” Yvonne promised in a soft, lustful, and breathless whisper, as she tried without avail to tighten her grip around her rival’s throat. “You first….” Yvette, responded with an equally weak and pleasure-broken voice, each of their lips still moving with every word spoken by the other, and their clits still grinding together in their last desperate struggle.
Moments passed, as they laid there humping each other, dry lips stuck together, their mutual stranglehold and tribbing growing slower and slower, each worried that no winner would be determined before their eyes when dim. But finally, after minutes of each getting their only oxygen from the other’s moans, and just as each began to drift into unconsciousness, Yvonne began to convulse. Both in orgasm, and suffocation — the feeling of which, and of victory sent Yvette over too, leading both girls to grow still apart from cuming spasms, their battle finally over — the hands about each other’s necks dropping to the floor out of fatigue, though each remained conscious. There they laid, spent, broken, lips glued to one another’s, and pubic hair so wet and matted, that they remained fastened together, the smallest of hairs having braided themselves together as they ground against each other other slowly, with neither pulling away.
After each had recovered enough of their focus, and energy to move, they set themselves again to ending the other, raising their hands again to each other’s throats, the memory of Theo’s passing having returned to them, causing tears to begin to flow from their beautiful brown eyes. But just as their grips began to tighten once more, Yvette felt a dick slide into her oragsm-slicked cunt, the dick of Theo, who had awoken from his state of suffocated unconsciousness, alive and ready to claim his reward, and hand out Yvette’s.
“Just lay still, girl, let Theo do the rest.” His comment was unneeded, as the victor was in no state to continue in anyway other than being fucked, but as she and her opponent released their grasp on each other’s throat, it made her smile nonetheless.
A smile which the loser of the battle felt, as her lips stretched in unison, she still being attached to her better both on top, and bottom. Painful it all was: being defeated, losing to her rival, having her body stuck to that of her rival as she was fucked by the man she loved. Wanting to escape such a hell, Yvonne tried to pull away, but Yvette would not allow it, reaching around and clasping her hands behind her darker-skinned rival’s head, so that she could keep their lips sealed together, so that the loser had to breathe in every moan, and every lustful scream — forcing her to watch them fuck, just as she had promised in the elevator.
Noticing their struggle, and how Yvonne’s body seemed to slide along with every pump he put into Yvette, Theo realized not only had their pubic hair become laced, but also that his victorious black vixen was trying to keep her lesser from escaping. Turned on by the idea, and hoping that such a humiliating and devastating punishment might allow him to set up a rematch in the future, Theo reached down, and with his left hand grabbed on to Yvonne’s ass, with such a hold he held on firmly, so that she could not by force pull away.
With that secured and cruel connection, Theo fucked his light caramel lover, not just quickly, not just for an hour, or two, but nearly all night, he and Yvette working together to make sure neither came, as to prolong Yvonne’s sob-inducing torture. When the marathon finally ended, and after Yvonne had woken from having cried herself into a slumber, she found that she had been detached from her enemy, lifted up, and placed alone and naked in the elevator of Theo’s loft, her clothes laid atop her, and text from Yvette which read: “Tonight. 8:00 PM. If you wanna try me again, bitch.”
As Yvonne collected her things, dressed herself, and took a moment to think, before unlocking her phone, and feverishly typing out her response.
Yvonne: “I’ll be there, hoe, and tonight I’ll be fucking him.”