On her cute, multi-colored comforter, in a bed that felt like it was made from clouds, Tabitha laid in waiting. Her heavy-crease pink skirt having slowly drifted up her thick, snackable thighs. A retreat that made it ever so hard for her to resist the temptation she felt gripping tight. 

To reach down. To slip her fingers inside her tiny white panties, and then deeper, as she thought about all the fun that was coming. 

Not that night. Not the next day. But within minutes. She having already received a message on her Tangler app. Bridget was coming. The girl who had pressed the tiny green heart on her ad, was on her way. 

On her way, and if her pictures were any metric, perfect. Not just generally, but for what Tabitha had wanted. Another kawaii, busty waifu just like her. One she didn’t have to seduce or introduce titfighting to. As Bridget already knew and wanted it. 

Meaning that there would be no convincing. No begging. No trading. 

Just tits vs. tits, in exactly the way the blonde had always imagined.

“Mmmmm….” Tabitha mouthed as she began to give in. Her pussy already wet and calling — wet and BEGGING to be played with in the excitement. 

But just as the brunette gone blonde’s right hand began to slowly slide down her body, she heard it. The ding. The dong. And the sound of someone having arrived at her door. 

And when the sound came, Tabitha moved like lightning. Rolling, falling off of, and then sprinting, in anime kitten-topped socks towards her door. Not the door at which Bridget waited, but the door to her room. A room she burst out from as she made her way down the hall. A long, wood-floored corridor she conquered, seconds before she yanked open the front door to her family’s home.

“Hi!” Tabitha then offered with an awkward and yet genuine smile. 

“Hey!” Came Bridget’s smile and reply — she standing on the bright white deck of the home. Her arms crossed nervously in front of her bright blue sundress. She keeping eye-contact for only a moment before she shyly looked down at her shiny black flats. 

“Come in! Please.” As she offered, Tabitha reached out and grabbed Bridget’s hand. Pulling her inside, and receiving no resistance. The brunette visitor fearing not the engagement she had accepted on the fight community’s hottest app, but the small talk engaging in it might require.

“Honey, is someone here?!” Came a woman’s voice from deeper into the home. 

“Yes, mom. It’s my new friend. We’re going to my room.” Tabitha yelled in reply, though a moment after she whispered. “I know, I live with my mom. It’s embarre….” 

Before Tabitha could even finish apologizing, she felt Bridget squeeze at her hand and reply softly. “It’s ok…. I do too.”

The comment and reassurance made Tabitha smile.

“You do too, what?” The blonde’s mother asked as she approached.

“I’m Jean, by the way. Tabitha’s mom,” the thick, bust-heavy matron introduced with an extended right hand. One she offered as she stepped between the two girls. 

In response, Bridget smiled, as Tabitha felt her cheeks burn a bit more from embarrassment. An emotion that increased as the brunette shook Jean’s hand and smiled.

“I was telling Tabitha how I live with my mom too,” Bridget answered with a smile. 

“Oh?” Jean replied, as she shot a playful glance toward her daughter. “You know, I was just reading how all you millennials were having so much trouble getting out on your own. It was just easier when I was your age, I guess.”

The comment left a tense silence to cloak the moment. 

“Well, we’re going to hang out in my room for a bit,” Tabitha interjected awkwardly while grabbing Bridget’s hand and pulling her forward, away, and then up the stairs. 

“Anything planned?” Jean asked while turning to watch the pair move. Their short skirts doing little to hide the wide hips and softly bouncing lower cheeks of each as they bounded up the stairs. 

“Oh, you know … some Puella Magi Madoka Magica, or Shugo Chara, maybe even some Haruhi Suzumiya. Want to watch with us?” Tabitha rattled off a litany of her favorite animes, the titles of which she knew would scare her mother off. 

“Maybe next time, honey. You two have fun.” The blonde mother replied, as she turned away and disappeared into the living room. 

With her mother satiated and left downstairs, Tabitha led her new “friend” to her room at the top of the stairs. A room that sat just above the living room in which her mother , with a content sigh, curled herself into a leather lunging chair. A book in hand and glass of warm chamomile tea to drink. 

A nearness that did little to stop the excited Tabitha from tossing Bridget inside, and then behind them both, to shut her lockless door.

The resulting click filling the hairsprayed blonde with calm as she turned back around. And though she expected to find Bridget admiring her anime statuettes, Christmas light-framed pictures, or even her cute little stuffed animals. She instead found her standing. Waiting. And face-to-face with her at the very moment she turned. 

At the sight, Tabitha almost jumped out of her skin, both with surprise and excitement. The excitement of having Bridget so close to her now that their large breasts brushed on even the smallest of movements.

“Did you wan-” Tabitha began, though as quickly as she did, she found Bridget’s index finger lifted, brought in, and then pressed to her lips. 

“Shhh….” Bridget instructed softly as her finger and hand withdrew. It pulling back to her side only a blink before she took a step forward and in so doing, brought their still-clothing covered tits into constant and delicious contact. 

“All I want is this….” She didn’t say what she wanted, but she didn’t need to. Tabitha already knew. 

Already knew. And already replied. Not with words, mind you. But by leaning in and against her new, Tangler-found rival. An effort that let their bra-held tits meet and smash together between them. All as their eyes met and melted together in one, long, glistening gaze. 

A mirrored look that spoke of a long-denied desire, not for each other — as before one posted and the other clicked, they knew each other not from Eve. But instead to do as they were about to do. To fight as they were about to fight. As they had seen in videos and read in stories strewn across the internet for years.

Stories and images which flooded their minds as they stood there chest-to-chest, just past the closed door of Tabitha’s room. Memories which told them exactly what to say and how to say it. Regardless of how nice and sweet they usually were. 

“You think your tits can beat mine?” Bridget asked with a confident tone, quite unlike any she had ever used before. And though it was a challenge. A presumptive dare. Still did it send a shiver of excitement up Tabitha’s spine. One she let pass before she responded with narrowed eyes and a barely withheld giggle.

“Anytime, anywhere, bitch…..” In a hiss it came, Tabitha’s catty reply. A returned challenge that she offered as she stepped forward with her left leg. A movement that led her breast on that same side to press into Bridget’s on the opposite, and then for the pair to turn clockwise. 

Just hearing the words take flight from another woman’s mouth in her direction made the brunette feel as if she might faint from excitement. And yet still, as she leaned her head in closer, letting the tip of her nose dance with her rival’s, Bridget responded. “Right here then. Right now….”  

“Why don’t we take off these tops?” With her eyes narrowed, and voice coming in low and confident, Tabitha asked as she fought to contain a wry smile. 

“Why don’t we take all of our clothes off? To really see whose tits are better….” It came faster than Tabitha had expected, the penultimate demand. One that mirrored and then one-upped hers. And yet with the offer presented to meet body-to-body with the busty beauty before her, the blonde agreed without a second’s hesitation.

“Deal.” The heavy-browed and pink dressed geek girl said plainly as with a well-acted confidence she stepped back from her chest-to-chest lean with Bridget. 

Then, with the distance earned, as minimal as it was, both began to remove their clothing. Never letting their eyes fall from the other. To make their own resolve clear. Their own focus on victory, obvious and undeniable. 

At least that was their plan. Their intention. One that was shattered when the breasts of the other came free. A revealing that played the role of revelation. 

To each in their first real titfight. 

That they could not help but feel it, contrary to their expectations. The jealousy they hoped to feign so that they might live out their fantasy. The anger and frustration that the others tits caused them to feel welling within them.

All of it was real.

All of it was not just palpable but overwhelming. 

So much so, that at the first, nascent tugs of the unexpected, and yet greedily clung to emotions, the two twenty-somethings froze. Not in fear or confusion, but in giddy, soul-deep excitement. 

An excitement that still reverberated through their young bodies, as in its glow and warmth, Tabitha spoke. Her bright pink skirt falling to her ankles, as in one swift but awkward, off-balance motion she pulled off her kitten-look socks, and pretty white panties. 

“Like what you see?” They were the same words she would have spoken  without the realization she and her rival just shared. Except having had it — having felt the jealousy she had fantasized about for so long, the blonde spoke them truly and with the intention of torment. 

“Just tits I’m going to ruin….” Bridget lied with a confident smirk. One she wore as she too finished peeling the last remnants of fabric from her body. 

“Talk is cheap…” Came back Tabitha, as she began to step forward slowly. “

“So are you….” With step and swagger, the brunette fired back her own, blistering salvo. 

A final flash of fiery language that made their little exchange biting and catty in the hottest of ways. Every word of it sounding like it had been taken from any number of their favorite titfight videos from Napali and JM Rolen. And just as would have happened in those videos, without que or spoken agreement the pair of nearing and busty beauties grabbed for one another’s arms. Then with the grips that resulted, and with a hard pull and an audible clapping of flesh against flesh, their large, perfectly matched tits collided. 

Their shamefully hard nipples plunging into each other’s areolas like daggers, just as the breasts around those points met and deformed for each other. Each set spilling out to their sides, as Tabitha and Bridget grunted in an effort to pull themselves closer. 

Even as the body to body contact they had already earned sent sparks of electricity up their respective spines, in unison, their eyes closed and lips parted in lustful gasps that gave way to unrepentant curses.

“Cunt….” Bridget muttered breathlessly as her eyes slowly opened. 

“Slut….” Tabitha replied as her own windows to the soul did the same. She and her rival not insulting out of anger, but acceptance. They together, though without consultation, feeling as if the degrading words would seal them together in a game they each knew well, though neither had ever played.

Game though it was, only a moment did Tabitha and Bridget spend luxuriating in the feeling of pressing chest to chest. As they wanted more than the soft touch of the other’s breasts pressing against their own. 

More than the soft dig of the other’s hard nipples into their areolae.

Instead, and before their battle became the slow, grinding game of attrition, they wanted to feel it. 

The Crash. 

One they took for themselves and each other by pulling back, driving forward, and then slamming their warring pairs together in an echoing splash of flesh and fire.

Then, even as an audible spurt of air escaped their sneering lips, the two pulled back and then once more pulled themselves forward. Not as hard as their first such escape and return, but twice as hard. Neither able to hide the pain the collision caused to their large, natural breasts.   

Breasts which as they moved through the air dropped, drug, and then on contact flattened into one another.

“I thought we weren’t going hard…?” Bridget mused knowingly, remembering the turns listed on Tabitha’s Tangler ad. A comment made, though the brunette’s eyes showing not a single sign of submission or fear.

“Can’t take it?!” Tabitha asked confidently, as once more she and her rival pulled apart, and then once more, in an increase of force and subsequent pressure, came together in a heavy bashing of bodies and breasts.

“Fuck you and your tits, Tabitha.” The brunette blistered, her initial joy at having found a partner to live out her fantasy fading deeper and deeper into the recesses of her mind. An emotion which seemed so very distant as between she and her rival four beautiful tits worked themselves one way and then the other. Back and then forth. 

“Maybe I will fuck you with my tits, once you cry uncle for me….” The blonde’s  words of derision and purpose, words she feigned only moments before, came then as real and as hot as any she had ever spoken in her life. The truth of their hardening of syllables and souls becoming as clear as crystal, as both vibrant Tangler users tore flesh from flesh once more. 

Not to rethink, reaccess, and regret their growing anger and passion. But instead to pull back as far as the others gripping hands on the back of their biceps would allow and then with every ounce of their strength they had, to plow forward and into each other. 

The resulting contact causing both to grunt and groan as they felt the jarring collision of flesh slapping into flesh. One that was so hard, that for a moment Bridget was robbed of her chance to reply to her blonde foe, though her eyes burned with the need to inflict verbal damage.

“Maybe you could ask your mommy to bake us some cookies while I smash your pathetic little tits flat,” the dark haired girl hissed. “Chocolate chip, maybe?”

The mentioning of a mother’s presence in the house sent a shudder of both fear and excitement through the two young women. 

“Just because you’re too ashamed of your cheap assed double, don’t talk shit about my life, bitch,” Tabitha hissed in reply. Their eyes locked, as their usually gentle faces tightened into a type of rage that neither girl had felt before.

“Fuck you, Tabitha,” Bridget hissed back. “And watch your mouth, ‘cause I’m seconds away from calling her in here to watch me break you.”

The threat escalated the tension and excitement between the two young women, who, in rhythm, began breathing deeper and deeper. Eyes locked, as the two increasingly frustrated and jealousy-driven women leaned away from each other and then paused like a rollercoaster might before a terrifying dive. Their hearts pounding for two loud beats, just before they jerked themselves toward each other. Their massive breasts smashing together as they collided and drove the air out of each other. 

Not once or twice, but again and again. In silence, and then as their lips shared hisses and hate. All while, at that break-neck speed, their strength and endurance waned. Their poor, set-at-odds tits beginning to ache, bruise, and swell between them.

Until finally, rather than using their grips to push away, and then pull forward, they clung to each other. Letting their breasts rest, as without movement or continued mashing, they just remained. Foreheads pressed, nose tips grazing, and eyes locked together in a half unblinking glare. 

Each wearing an expression that spoke of equal parts pride and intoxication — defiance and excitement. Even as between them their E cup breasts began to not only bruise, but throb. 

Despite that very real and foolishly unexpected pain, however, they each knew. it was time. 

Time for the slow, shifting, war of attrition that had always been their favorite part of the videos they watched night in and night out. As in the privacy of their bedrooms their fingers pressed in and then passed their labial folds, as they each watched and listened. Their noise cancelling headphones closing out the world and allowing them to truly sink into their fantasy of two women fighting intimately with their tits.

But thanks to the Tangler app, no longer did Bridget or Tabitha need to imagine it, or watch it play out on their phones or tablets. For they were there. Tit to tit, and at the very moment they had so often dreamed of. A closeness to what they coveted that made each want to squeal and tell the other of their anticipation. But instead, as their lips parted, they instead mouthed in the same, “slut….”. 

Warm, hateful, coos they shared before each began to shift their chests in opposite directions. Their bruised and yet beautiful breasts seeming to melt together, as what was once round and proud molded to fit the press of the other, while doing all they could to cling to their shape.

“Ooowwweee….” Tabitha muttered weakly and in surprise at the pain. 

“Uuuunnnngggghhh….” Replied Bridget in exactly the same way. 

The pair of them never expecting that after nearly twenty minutes pressing and smashing that their gorgeous and glorious tits would hurt so bad. Shared though that revelation was, still did each leap on the others whimper. 

“I knew your tits were weak….” The blonde of the pair hissed. 

“I’ll remember you said that when I’m making you worship them.” The brunette replied, as she and her rival wore matching smirks. A curling of lips interrupted at interval, as sparks of pain came to distract them at the apex of every shift upon its return. 

Sparks that began to set off faster and faster, as the two warring Tangler users began to grow accustomed to the pain. Accustomed and then enticed. Enticed and then addicted to the sensation that spoke most directly to the fact that with each other and in that pink-hued, anime adorned room, they were living their most taboo and tantalizing desires. 

A truth they lingered and languished in. 

Eyes locked together for minutes on end, and then closing when they could take not a second more of seeing their rival’s pretty face contort with pleasure and pain. 

Grips on one another loosening as hands and fingers began to ache, and then moving as they sought some new angle they hoped might make holding onto each other easier. 

Lips closed in silence, then opened to let out curses and threats or moans and whimpers of the most delicate and dangerous kind. 

Until their tits, once dry, had grown wet with sweat like neither had ever worked up at the gym or walking to school. A glisten and glaze that made their tits slide more and more easily, even as their muscles began to ache and shifting began to slow. 

By fractions at first, and then so acutely that neither could continue to fight without leaning into each other and resting their chins on each others shoulders. 

The pair aiming their faces in, so that their lips rested next to and against their rival’s ear. 

“Your tits will never … beat … mine, bitch….” Bridget whispered in the heat of their achingly long embrace. 

“Yes … they … will…..” The blonde replied defiantly, just before she and her chosen competition suddenly froze, and then moaned out in the deepest pleasure they had ever felt. Their nipples, which had crossed hundreds of times since their battle began suddenly catching in their rigidness and then driving into each other. Neither giving way, or letting the other by, but instead holding, and at their peaks, balancing. That is until in an explosion of endorphins, hormones, and dopamine, they each inverted halfway. The near imperceivable wrinkles and dips on the end of each sealing together and leaving their competing tits, for that moment, as one. 

And though that was the truth of the pleasure they felt. Neither could see or understand it. And so Tabitha asked, with a hushed voice broken by desire and sensation. “What’s …. happening…?”

“I do–on’t knoooooww….” Bridget answered desperately, as she and the young woman she spoke to ceased moving entirely. Other than the pleasure-brought trembling neither could stop, or even comprehend. 

“Don’t pull away….” Begged the blonde, as her hands gripped tighter and tighter to her rival. 

“I…. I won’t–OOOHHH GOOOOOOD” A promise. An assurance, Bridget meant to give. But mid-sentence, the swelling heaven within them boiled over and through their lips began to seep. 

Above in the form of the most desperate and feral of moans and below in a quick spurt and slow drip of essence. Which, as it came, with Tabitha, almost on the verge of orgasm and tears whispered a desperate prayer into the warmth of her rival’s neck. “I…. hate…. you….”

Words that felt so right. So perfect for the moment and the fantasies she had spent years wishing were her’s. Even though “hate” was as distant from what the curvy blonde actually felt as one could imagine. 

Fathoms from their shared truth though it was, in that tight, nipple-locked embrace, Bridget still replied, “I haAate you mooooorrrreeeee – Wait, no, no, nOoOoooOOo!!!”

The brunette’s voice falling like an angel from the sky, as her quivering return of a fetish-found fixation on loathing, to a loud moan of lost pinnacle and pleasure. A shift that came as without warning, allowance, or movement, the swollen nipples of the pair, wet with a new layer of sweat, slid apart and past one another. 

Ending their blissful stalemate and the release each felt they were certain to claim had they been able to hold on for mere seconds longer.  

“Fuuuuccckkk….” Tabitha offered weakly, as Bridget felt a shudder flow through the blonde’s body. A sensation shared that pressed the brunette to moan out in reply. Their soft, sweat-wet bellies pressing into each other as they leaned and panted, suddenly needing more from each other and their remaining contact than they had before.

The carnal fire their locked nipples had set beginning to singe their souls as it demanded to be set free. And had they been more mature, more confident, or maybe even more experienced in a game neither knew to even be real before that day, they might have given in. 

To that fire.

To each other. 

To their own needs. 

But instead, as soon as they felt a desire for more than a battle, without the lust-drenched fog of a mirrored inverting of nipples to blind them to the transition, they found themselves flare with rage. 

A rage which made Bridget’s right hand ball into a fist as she and Tabitha finally pulled their glistening tummies and swollen tits apart with an audible and painful peeling of flesh.

“You’re just a fat slut,” Tabitha accused, as a quick, fevered denial began to set in.

“I’m what you wanted,” Bridget gave as a quick and stinging retort, made possible by her returning focus. “You picked me because you wanted to mash those sloppy tits of yours into the breasts of a real woman.”

Their voices, usually so soft and sweet, twisting into hard vines with thorns that tore into the minds of their rival. Their lips curling back as their brilliantly bright teeth flashed in the sunlight streaming in from the open window. 

“I picked you because I saw your stuck up face, flashing those big tits like you were so hot….” Tabitha answered, moaning under her breath as she felt Bridget’s hands roaming over her back and side, groping her, testing her, challenging her. 

“And I saw your ad, I thought the same thing,” Bridget’s voice grew in volume and intensity. “I had to bring you down a few notches and show you that you weren’t all that! And doing it with your mOmMy downstairs makes it even sweeter.”

The two girls pulled back even further, their eyes locking again as they both felt the sweet, warm breath of their rival wash across their sweat-wet cheeks. Each seeing the growing frustration in the others eyes. 

This wasn’t just the fun, girly rubbing of boobs and tussling they each had imagined. It was more, and yet somehow, not enough. Their fantasy failing to give them the ultimate contact and competition they found themselves needing.

As the competition they had chosen and dared the other to engage in was of some, but not all — part, but not their entirety. Against the chains of those limitations and restrictions they bristled and bent — burst from and then out of. 

When, as if a signal had gone off, both young women lunged for and at one another. Their thick, nude, sweaty bodies crashing together as the two young women began to wrestle. Not in a focused, experienced lock-up, but across the room in a slow, stumbling careen. Their hands searching every curve of the others body for something to grab to give them leverage over the other. 

Just as below, their legs, which had just been used to support them before, turned into weapons. The knees of each striking into and between thighs. Their feet in wild clumsy kicks, trying to slash up and then down the front of their chosen competition’s shins, as brightly colored toes — fresh from expensive pedi’s — clawed and drove. Efforts which upon failure led their calves to wrap around and capture the legs of their foe. 

A mutual and mirrored binding which came, just as Bridget tightened her bearhug and twisted her shoulders to the right. Doing so hard enough to throw both girls off balance and then down. And though they would have only seconds before crashed into hard carpet, their stumble had led them just close enough to see them plummet down onto Tabitha’s bed on their sides in a bouncing crash. The mattress, soft and fluffy as it was, sending some of the pillows thereupon flying up and off the bed. 

A bed on which, an explosion of activity occurred as both girls tried to take control. The two rocking from side to side, gripping and struggling to force their way on top so that they could gain control over their rival. Already battered, bruised, and engorged breasts undulating like waves of flesh, as stiff nipples slashed and jabbed like weapons. They each pushing and pulling — sliding and shifting — binding and bending together there on Tabitha’s bed. Their nude, thick, sweaty bodies locked in a desperate search for pleasure and pain — control and contrivance.  

But somewhere in the Maelstrom of soft, struggling flesh, did Tabitha manage to gain the top position. Her inexperienced legs straining against Bridget’s until they fell between the creamy white thighs of the women with whom she warred. A placement that led Bridget’s own lower limbs on instinct to lift, coil, and then seize around those of the busty beauty laying atop her. 

“Get off me, bitch!” Bridget groused, even as her wide thighs and flexing calves held tight to the blonde’s own. 

“Mmm, not a chance.” Tabitha replied, even as she focused her energies on beating the brunette beneath her in their impromptu battle of legs.

A decision to counter that left the legs of the two breast-connected Tangler users to look like a set of writhing pythons. Snakes which squeezed tighter and tighter, as each girl felt themselves straightening like a plank. Tabitha shifting down and Bridget up — further and further — until with a sudden, shuddering gasp — they felt the warm, sopping wet pussy of their enemy rub up against their own. The contact sending an electrical storm of sensations radiating through their contracted bodies. Their hands, only an instant later, moving to each others hair and grabbing root-deep holds as each tried to weather a storm unlike anything either girl had ever felt before. 

“You whore,” Tabitha’s voice sounded ragged. “You filthy little slut. I can feel how wet you are!”

“No wetter than you, cunt,” Bridget grunted back as she rocked her hips up into the blonde’s, forcing a deeper, more intimate contact between them. A contact that came as Bridget hissed out a challenge. “If you can’t handle it, call for mommy….”

Tabitha felt her cheeks burn with a new layer of shame as she glared down at the dark-haired girl. “Every time you get scared, you bring up my mom,” she muttered back at her foe, whose lips were only centimeters away from her own. “If we met at your house, we’d be in the same situation, only with your whore of a mom watching us with a Natty Ice in her hand!” She continued.

“That’s it….” Bridget began with another pelvic thrust upward. One that robbed, not just she who took it, but she who inflicted it of her focus. “You just bought yourself a….” The brunette continued, before a downward stroke by Tabitha broke her train of thought. “…just earned yourself a rematch at my house, cunt….” 

“De-deal….” The blonde above grunted out, before she found herself not only speechless, but turned over and onto her back by Bridget who had surged up into her on her left side. 

“But first I am going to break these tits, and that weak little pussy of yours.” As the hissed threat was made, the darker-haired daring lifted her naked body up and then slammed it back down. Smashing their bodies together breast to breast and mound to mound. 

“Bitch!” Tabitha cried out in a forceful curse kept low as to not alert her mother, who sat in the room below.

“Mmm, you like it…?” Cruelly, teasingly, Bridget asked, as once more, she pressed herself up and then dropped herself down — causing the bed to rock and slam into the walls around it. The air in the room growing not only warm but thick with the smell of sweat and sex.

“Shut up….” Replied the wavy-haired blonde, not wanting to give the answer they both knew to be true. 

Resist though she did, Bridget insisted. She moving her left hand, which remained buried in Tabitha’s hair, to yank hard to the side. “Tell me, bitch….” 

“No!” Again, only a refusal came from Tabitha. 

Bridget knew why the busty beauty beneath her refused to answer, and yet still, she pressed. “Tell m-eeerrrrrGggg” That is until she couldn’t. 

The trapped blonde below firing up and over, mid-query, rolling their bodies once more. Back the way they came. Bridget falling to the side and then her back, as once more, Tabitha took the top position. 

“You tell me bitch!” Emphatic. Passionate. And yet still hushed. Even as, after their rolls, locked legs released, thighs shifted, and soaking wet pussies met without the trappings of that led them to such a battle.

“No! Fuck!” Bridget cried out. Not quietly, or muffled. But at full volume. A sounding out of denial and desperation that led Tabitha, terrified of their little engagement being heard, to release her right hand from lucious brown locks and to instead cover the mouth of the defiant girl beneath her. 

So that with palm to lips. 

Tits to tits. 

And with clit pressing harding against clit, the two began and remained. Thrusting into and against each other with their hips. Positioned missionary, as once and again their sexs collided. Collided and then drug. Drug and then pressed.. 

Their eyes wide, not in shock but challenge and dare. A harshness behind mascara and fake lashes that came at odds with the soft, gentle, delicate sounds of pleasure that escape their lips, sounding like the most beautiful symphony any has ever heard. Tabitha’s kept quiet with intention, while Bridget’s came muffled by the hand of the former. 

It was heaven. Bliss. And better than any sex either had ever had. And yet Bridget fought it — flaring against the thought of her blonde challenger keeping her pinned. And so she once more drove her right side up and into Tabitha’s. Pushing her up and over, but this time off the bed in a loud, echoing thud. 

A perilously resounding sound that passed the ears of each without notice as once more the two twenty-somethings struggled as they rolled. Fighting once more to see who would come out on top. And though for those moments they tumbled one way and then the other — up and then over, their hips never stopped thrusting or their stubble-bumped pussies from grinding. Lips parting for lips as clits dueled like Cyrano de Bergerac and Zorro clasing sabres. 

The hand muting Bridget’s cries falling from place and moving to her competitor’s body, just as all thought of remaining quiet was lost in the struggle. 

In the pleasure.

The world beyond they two shrinking from thought and mind as again and again they tumbled and fucked. 

Their journey of jousting tips and moving hips taking them from the bed and then across to the door to the room they had once walked through hand in hand. It being only there that Bridget finally found her placement on top. She, with Tabitha beneath her, sitting up and back, after peeling her tits from her rival’s. Sweat earned and then dried between their mammoth pairs acting as an adhesive which made the parting hard, and almost painful. And yet still, in the speed and passion of the moment, it felt like pleasure. One drop in an ocean of it, as Bridget lifted Tabitha’s right leg up into the air, and then began to ride.

To bliss and oblivion — orgasm and infinity. 

And though she would take it. Enjoy it. First! She had to make Tabitha cum. To release under and into her. To seep and then explode, as to prove that between them, at least in this first meeting, Bridget was the better woman and the better fuck. Their war of tits alone having ended in a tie or having been abandoned in a craving of more. 

But as Bridget rode to glory, Tabitha prepared for defeat. Her once proud spirit breaking as her busty rival’s clit drove into her own. Again and again. Juice-wet inner thighs rubbing and then gliding — gliding and then gluing  them together. 

“Fuck…. You…. Bitch!!!!” Tabitha began to shout. 

“Cum for me, slut! You know you want to!” Bridget replied, with not a hint of hidden volume. 

“No! No! NOO!” The blonde yelled in denial, though the vehamance sounded like lies even to her. As deep within, she felt the coming wave. The approaching avalanche. One that threatened to overwhelm her at any moment.

It was coming and all she could do was hold it off. For minutes. For seconds. She wasn’t sure, but she would fight it. For as long as she was able. Because fuck her. 

Fuck Bridget. 

This stuck up, big-titted bitch who had waltzed into her home and planned on beating her. All while talking about her mother….

It was only then. Only as her shame began to spiral, and drive her further and further into her opponent’s clutches, that it came. A loud knock at the bedroom door that stood just behind Tabitha’s head. She being fucked just in front of it. 

“Tabitha…? Is everything OK in there?” The voice was genuine and concerned and demanded answer. But Tabitha couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t do anything other than moan there beneath the girl she had found on Tangler. 

“Wweeee’rreee OOooOOkkkKKK, Moo–mmm.” And yet still she tried. Her voice shaking, and quaking, and breaking in the effort. 

“You don’t sound ok. I’m coming in there….” Her mother answered, as the door handle without a lock began to turn. 

Would it even open? Or instead slam into Tabitha’s head? A painful question Tabitha expected to have answered, as the blonde found herself too lost in she and her rival’s war of clits to do anything other than just lay there and let her fate come along with her. 

And though the underneath blonde had resigned herself, Bridget had not. She, despite her words and taunts, throwing herself forward and planting her palms against the door, just as it began to open. It slamming back closed on mother dearest and remaining there. The brunette both unwilling, and because of her angle, unable to sit back up thereafter.

For Tabitha, the happening was welcome. Both the denial of entry and the sudden ending of Bridget’s firing hips. And though yes, the moment she had previously feared was upon her, her mother at the door and suspicious, she had found something more important to drive her. 

To push her.

Not only to continue, but redouble her own efforts. Fucking her rival from the bottom up. All as that rival’s swollen, sweaty tits hung just above Tabitha’s face. The mouth on which suddenly lifted, latched, and began to suck on one of Bridget’s rock-hard nipples. Not gently. Or teasingly. But hard and long, like a baby searching for milk. 

The effect of it was instant and incredible — as within only a few such draws, and pounding of the blonde’s hips, Bridget shuddered, shattered, and with the only energy she had left, moved to cover her mouth and muffle her screams of ecstasy as she collapsed down atop Tabitha. 

“Let me in this instant!” The mother of the victorious blonde yelled from outside the door. A door still held shut by Tabitha’s hands, which had taken up the cause when the brunette atop her crashed down in defeat. 

“Mom! Look….” Tabitha began, as her focus began to return. The knowledge that she would not be able to talk her way out of the sounds that had just been offered and sent echoing through the house seared into her mind. “We’re fine. I know I haven’t told you this yet, but I’m bi, ok? So, go away….. Please….”

For a moment, at the revelation, there was silence — apart from Bridget’s deep breaths, soft moans, and delicate whimpers of surrender.

“Oh, I…. God, I’m sorry….” Jean began and then fell into silence. All before she began again, “but, I cannot believe that….” The matron’s voice came again — its tone moving from shock and embarrassment to outrage in a handful of words. Words which came as the blonde rolled her rival off of her, down to her back, and even as the woman outside the door began to demand answers for why she wasn’t told sooner, mounted the brunette’s face. 

“Look, mom, I’m sorry! Ok, it’s just. It’s a hard thing to tell people. You know…?” It was real. It was long-coming. And yet as mother and daughter talked out the admission — non-controversial though it was, the latter began to grind, slowly atop Bridget’s pretty face. 

Wet inner thighs pressing against effort warmed cheeks. Upper lips slipping deep into lower ones, all as the nose of she who had been broken came to a swift settle against the victorious clit of her conqueror. 

A meeting which came again and again, from a lesser and lesser distance, until Tabitha need only barely move to feel the orgasm she barely escaped earlier approach again. 

The pleasure of it making her syllables slow and slurred as she and her mother argued and debated — apologized and forgave. Until finally, the last words were uttered, and mother accepted and moved on. A moment that came just seconds before Tabitha came. Her mother’s feet have only begun to carry her away, as the remaining blonde screamed into her once more pressing palm. She hiding her victory orgasm from the woman who had almost walked in on their battle, all while sharing it with the girl who was overwhelmed in the same.

That sharing being not hand in hand, but instead in a release of liquids that poured down, on top of, and then into the exhausted, breathless, and orgasm-shattered brunette’s open and gasping mouth. The air sought coming to her lungs in a second flood, as Tabitha collapsed off and to the side of her bested rival. 

A rival who choked out a single word between desperate, hacking gasps. “Rematch….”

The End

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