Day in and day out, Rachel and Thalia had heard it – the comments from their co-workers about how they two were locked in some form of unspoken competition of cleavage, each wearing more and more revealing outfits to work each day, meaning to outdo the other. The rumors had not been true, as each girl was only barely aware of the other – their choices of attire merely their own, with no external driver. However, as each comment drifted from lip to ear, and their uninterested eyes began to peruse and compare, a certain madness took them.

What if she was trying to compete with me this whole time?

How can she possibly think her breasts are as good as mine?

Is that why she always makes sure we bump into each other in the copy room?

Is she the reason Austin won’t ask me out?

The questions and mutual mistrust set their minds and desires ablaze, as slowly the two could think of nothing else but each other and the rivalry that others had invented for the two.

Days went by, each trying to analyze the other’s every move, the meanings there derived bent and pitched through the prism of assumed animosity. Though each of the women tried to be subtle about their looks and examinations, neither succeeded, and as each was caught with their eyes affixed, both grew more and more certain that the rivalry they had imagined was real, ongoing, and escalating.

Days passed, then weeks, whilst all the while their obsession with the other and the perceived challenge they presented grew. That is until, one particularly quiet day in the office, as both women sat with eyes Firmly locked upon the other’s from across the office floor, a circumstance both had grown more than accustomed to, Rachel raised from her chair. Without a word spoken or signal given, Thalia followed suit. Then as if a gun had been fired they both turned and rushed across the near-empty floor for the private bathroom next to their boss’ office.

Meeting there, Thalia turned the utilitarian metal handle and pulled back on the door. As it opened, both women tried to step in together, each getting caught chest to chest with the other in the narrow doorway. Not a blink after their garments touched, did they grab harshly at each other, struggling not for escape but for more contact, pressing themselves into each other, as they continued pulling and dragging each other into the oppressively tiny bathroom.

Rachel: “Bitch! Get off me!”

Thalia: “Is that what you want? Me to let you go? I thought you were hot shit…” As each began to finally vocalize their hatred for each other, they continued shoving their breasts into those of their rival.

Rachel: “I AM hot shit, and you just need to fucking realize that, cunt! Staring at me all the time…”

Thalia: “Ha! Please! Me staring at you? You’re the one who is always staring! I bet you even touch yourself under your desk, bitch, imagining us pinned together like this. Don’t you?”

Rachel: “No different than you, bitch, I’ve seen the spots on your chair.”

Thalia: “Fuck you, cunt!” The young vivacious Hispanic girl, incensed by the fact that her rival had not only inspected her cubicle, but also discovered her own excitement about the rivalry, pulled back, reached up, and tore Rachel’s coat shirt open. It took only a blink before Rachel followed suit, exposing her enemy’s breasts and rock-hard nipples.

Rachel: “No bra, whore?”

Thalia: “Look who’s talking slut?” With that exchange and no more, the two women slammed their breasts together hard, grinding tit against tit, back and forth, before each pulled back, lined up their nipples, and slammed together again. Despite their hatred for each other, and their strongest desire to keep talking trash to their rival, both found the feeling of flesh against flesh, and nipple against nipple distracting. Intoxicating. So much more sexually pleasing than they ever could have imagined, or felt before. SO much more in fact, that after each took a step back, and for the third time came forward and again pressed their breasts together, a glorious wave washed over each of them, in the form of an orgasm which began in their toes and like a flood, coated their every fiber with unwanted, unexpected, and unbelievable levels of pleasure.

For so long they had wanted this, each other – to press their tits against their rival. They had dreamed of it, masturbated to it, and made it the goal of their entire existence since first the thought entered their minds. And finally, they had it! Finally, their bodies and they were locked together, alone, free to test each other and settle whatever laid between them. Perhaps it was that anticipation, and excitement that caused each to succumb so quickly, and simultaneously, allowing for no resolution of even the most minuscule of questions. Instead, their bodies betrayal rendered each weak beyond words, and caused both to collapse not only into each other but then in a clump down to the floor beneath them. There, leaning their chin on their rival’s shoulder, breasts and stomachs still pressed together, and Thalia’s left leg under Rachel right, and Rachel’s right beneath Thalia’s left, they sat in silence. Until together they each whispered in unison, so quietly each could barely hear it:

Rachel & Thalia: “Bitch…”