It was wet and stifling that day in late April in Berlin. The vibrant, beautiful city had also woken up with the biggest traffic jam in its history, a truck accident causing problems in the northern access roads. This had forced hundreds and hundreds of extra people to go to work by subway, tram and bus, so from early morning public transport stations were collapsed. It was a chaos, with the city full of tourists and just two days before a Champions League semi-final.

Petra Dogan was one of those affected by all that mess. The 29-year-old eye-catching secretary hadn’t had any choice but to leave her car at home and take the subway to get to the office. But as soon as she got to the station, she remembered why she hated riding the subway so much: the wagons were so full that, more than people, they looked like canned sardines.

“Attention, passengers: let out before you enter. And please don’t block the doors,” a voice rang out over the loudspeakers as Petra walked on her short blue heels, trying to make her way through the marabout of people waiting on the platform. She regretted picking her biggest handbag that day, the huge blue purse hanging from her left arm making it hard to move comfortably. The worst, however, came when the doors of the wagons opened—like two waves in opposite directions, the passengers crashed into each other, some wanting to get in, some needing to get out. Petra struggled against the force that was trying to push her away from the nearest car, her body immediately starting to sweat in the middle of that unexpected sauna that the station had become, hundreds of people pushing, panting, exuding heat around her.

Almost miraculously, the secretary managed to get into the wagon, the doors closing right behind her. It had been really close—a second later, and she wouldn’t have gotten in on time. Trying to catch her breath after the effort, the young woman wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand while looking left and right. She doubted it was legal to put so many people in one car. Trying to get some more space, Petra used her elbows carefully, but it was useless.

Then, she felt someone eyeing her from her right. Looking sideways, Petra saw the lascivious gaze of a man. She was amazed at how he managed to spot her with so many people in between, especially since she wasn’t very tall, but that wasn’t new to her, since her petite, curvaceous body was always the center of attention in the office where she worked, on the street when she went shopping, in the nightclubs when she partied—and, as more and more eyes turned to her, so was it in the subway car. Petra Dogan was a real Turkish-German olive-skinned beauty, and she was fully aware of that, her blue eyes, heart-shaped mouth and straight black hair making anyone fall in love with her, her firm breasts, round ass and strong legs making anyone crave her. And still, licking her fleshy lips slowly, Petra didn’t know whether to be flattered or disgusted for what she saw in that man’s eyes.

Finally, the wagon started to move, but it didn’t take long to stop at the next station. Unfortunately for Petra, not many people got out of the car, and too many got on. Grabbing onto the handrail, she resisted the collision of bodies and heat against her, the sweat now saturating her beautiful body with two or three layers of perspiration, sticking her light blue low-cut top and short grey skirt a little more to her beautiful body. For a moment she was afraid that, since she had decided not to wear a bra that morning because of the stifling heat and humidity, the fabric of her top would be transparent enough for her beautiful breasts, or worse, her fat nipples, to be visible to anyone, so Petra looked around nervously. Would that perverted man have noticed that?

Suddenly, a body as hot and sweaty as Petra’s bumped into her, back to back, ass to ass. Grunting, she used her elbows again to push the other woman away—the shapes she felt against her could not be from a man, undoubtedly. This time, not only did she still not get some personal space, but she felt the elbows of the other female trying to push her in return. There was even a tense moment when two elbows got tangled up together.

Sick of the stranger, Petra turned her neck, looking over her shoulder to meet the gaze of another woman her own age. Petra opened her mouth slightly in shock as she saw an incredibly beautiful face. Her surprise, however, wasn’t for her good looks, but for the resemblance the other female had to her: blue eyes as big as hers, red lips as fleshy as hers, black hair as long as hers, olive skin as smooth as hers— another Turkish-German young woman, undeniably. Although no one could mistake them for twins, Petra was sure that many people in the subway would think they were sisters.

“Hey, be careful,” Petra said somewhat fiercely, suddenly feeling that she had a beautiful shadow of herself behind her. Although being so close together she couldn’t see the other woman’s body, Petra could clearly observe that they were both the same height. “You hit me.”

“Don’t you have eyes? You hit me first,” the stranger answered just as harshly.

“Who would want to touch you?” Petra was surprised by her own words, but she couldn’t stop them in her throat. “You must be pretty cocky if you think I was going to look for your contact. I don’t like it, actually!”

“What you don’t like is feeling a real woman’s body against yours!” the other woman grunted, her cheeks turning red immediately as if she didn’t expect that reaction from herself either.

“What the fuck are you talking about, girl? You obviously don’t know what a real woman’s body looks like, because you’re feeling it now against your back!” Petra felt the other brunette’s ass tighten against hers after her words, and then she was aware of how firm and well-rounded the glutes of the beauty behind her were. She couldn’t help but push her ass a little further against her counterpart, forcing a gentle moan from both.

“From what I’m feeling, you have a pathetic body!” the mysterious girl insulted, returning the pressure against Petra’s behind. “You should hit the gym more, honey.”

Petra opened her mouth to reply again, but then she realized that both of them were drawing too much attention. Her cheeks grew even more red as the beautiful secretary realized that the discussion must end immediately. Her hot temper, however, forced her into one last, quick exchange of words.

“What’s your name, girl?” she asked.

“Marlene…Marlene Pasha.”

“I’m Petra Dogan. And now, leave me alone, Marlene Pasha.”

“No problem, Petra Dogan. Anyway, there was nothing good to look at.”

“I agree with that.” After a short but intense look, Petra turned her face, and felt Marlene do the same. The beautiful blue-eyed women split up, with Petra shaking her head in disbelief—she had always been a hot-tempered person, unable to bear the arrogance and bad manners of others, but how fast and how low she had fallen in her argument with a stranger had surprised her. Not at all a novice in the affairs of female rivalry, she had never been so straightforward with another woman before.

It would be better to ignore her, she thought but, contradicting herself, Petra couldn’t help but take one last look at the brunette who had confronted her. Marlene was dressed almost identically to her, although her low-cut top and short skirt were pastel pink and black instead of light blue and grey. She was also carrying a large handbag hanging from her left arm, in shades of pink, and walked in short heels of the same color. But it was not that which attracted Petra’s attention most, but the similarity between her body and the other brunette beauty’s figure—petite and curvy like hers, it was undoubtedly arousing the interest of men and women around. That bothered Petra, despite her mental efforts to avoid it so, grunting softly, she tried to push herself past the passengers to finally leave behind that conceited girl named Marlene.

Without warning, the subway car shook at that moment. People screamed, surprised and scared, as the lights suddenly went out. Caught off guard, Petra lost her balance, her body falling backwards until bumping into someone back to back. Her short yell joined the piercing scream of another woman and, as a second tremor threw Petra against the doors, she knew that the one falling with her was none other than Marlene Pasha.

The car began to slow down to a complete halt in the middle of a tunnel, the closest station almost a kilometer away. Worried, the passengers began to talk nervously, their voices too loud in the gloom, only a few faint emergency lights illuminating the central corridor. No one was paying attention to the two women who, on their knees and far from any light, were trying to separate from each other, their arms locked together in an uncomfortable position.

“I said leave me alone,” Petra grunted quietly, trying to free herself to get her wet back away from Marlene’s.

“Get away from me, girl,” Marlene replied, managing to get her left arm free to lean against the doors and tried to stand up.

“Dear passengers, sorry for the temporary stop due to a subway breakdown, please remain calm and we will solve the problem soon.” Petra heard on the wagon’s speaker while she succeeded in grabbing hold of the car doors. She started to stand up, her back, her ass rubbing against the counterpart of Marlene’s body as the two brunettes finally got to their feet.

Blinking to adapt her pupils to the penumbra, Petra found herself cornered by several very tall, burly men, their bodies forming a sort of oppressive, suffocating two-meter high wall that turned its back to her almost ominously. Without being able to push through those hulks, without being able to open the doors, the secretary could only get the room she needed in one direction.

“Move,” she whispered to Marlene, pushing a little bit with her firm butt.

“You move,” the other beauty replied, jostling back with her ass. “There’s hardly any space here.”

“It’s my space,” Petra said greedily, looking over her shoulder to see the silhouette of Marlene’s head. The other woman turned her face, and the scene from moments before was repeated in the darkness.

“I’m not gonna give you a single centimeter of space,” Marlene defied.

“Then I’ll have to take it myself,” the dark-haired secretary rebelled, putting a little more pressure on Marlene’s ass, feeling a little more pressure on her own butt.

Taking advantage of the darkness, the concealed position and the noise of voices, the women started to push with shoulders, back and asses as hard as they could, fighting to occupy the area next to the door, both needing room in the suffocating prison of bodies in which they had ended up. But even though Petra said herself that they were only battling for space, she knew that wasn’t completely true—not after their argument seconds earlier. The ease with which the battle had begun, even before both gave their official start with words, even before both fell against the door, said it all.

For one, two minutes, the angry rivals pushed and pushed, struggling for every centimeter as if it were a matter of life and death. Their protruding buttocks, strong from years of fitness, soon took the lead, squeezing firmly against each other as little further down the naked thighs of the brunettes tightened up, holding each other up. Petra gasped quietly as she felt Marlene’s ass rubbing against hers through their short skirts, and decided to respond with her own dirty, hot friction.

“You…” Petra heard Marlene’s grunt as the two asses locked in a battle of attrition. Proud of all the work she had put into her gluteal muscles over the past few years, Petra concentrated on tensing them so that the other brunette would feel her power. She wasn’t sure why she was doing it rather than keep pushing, but somehow, feeling the dangerous potential and the rounded firmness of Marlene’s butt, she felt forced to take that path.

“Looks like you’re the one who should hit the gym more often, girl, and not the other way around like you said,” Petra whispered despite the hardness she felt against her behind. “You could use a few sets of step-ups.”

“That’s funny, because I was about to remind you of my words earlier, baby,” Marlene grunted. “I can recommend a couple of gyms for flabby asses like you.”

Determined to show Marlene how wrong she was, Petra rotated her tight ass into her rival’s, flexing her muscles in a demonstration of strength and power. Against hers, Marlene’s butt got even tighter, the other brunette’s thick, solid glutes rubbing back eagerly, struggling for every centimeter of space. Petra found herself panting, occasionally exhaling some low moan—she told herself that it was only for the physical effort, but she was having more and more trouble denying that there was anything else.

Clenching muscles, kneading flesh, the two girls continued the unanticipated, dirty competition in the heated half-light until, sick of it all, Petra decided it was time to get the upper hand. After a really filthy skirt-to-skirt, ass-to-ass scrub, the secretary pulled her butt apart as much as she could and, tightening her gluteal muscles, she rammed hard into Marlene’s ass. The pair of sexy, round bums slapped together, the short but rough blow making both beauties tremble from top to bottom…but only one of them was caught off guard. Marlene fell forward, crashing into the back of a man in front of her.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention…” Marlene’s words of apology to the man reached Petra’s ears. She could imagine Marlene’s look-alike face blushing with shame, and could not help but smile cruelly at getting the other girl to suffer that little public humiliation after her little private defeat.

“No problem,” the man said. Lucky for both of them, he was so tall that could hardly see Marlene or Petra in that deep pit of darkness behind him so, after looking over his shoulder, he simply looked forward again, forgetting the women who were behind his back.

With great effort, Petra tried to twist herself around, and heard Marlene doing the same. After ten, fifteen seconds of struggle with the surrounding bodies and the door of the wagon, Petra managed to turn around, her heart beating hard under her chest as she finally came face to face with Marlene.

“Bitch,” Marlene gasped the first swear word between them. “You think your ass is so tough but you just caught me by surprise.”

Petra wanted to brag about her small triumph, but could not form any words as she felt her opponent’s body against hers. This time it wasn’t Marlene’s mighty butt that was against her, but her bulging breasts, the firm glands pushing recklessly against Petra’s own pair. Narrowing her eyes in defiance, the secretary tried to see Marlene’s face in the gloom to compare herself properly with the other brunette’s features, but she could barely discern a few tiny glimpses of a face that could be a reflection in a mirror distorted by darkness.

There were no words between them for a few seconds, only soft breathing so perfectly coordinated that Petra could feel her breasts rising and falling in sync with Marlene’s boobs. The secretary had always been proud of her tits, its exceptional firmness being the envy of younger women, its C-cup size always catching the eye with her low-cut, close-fitting clothing—her pair even almost reached a D-cup when Petra was premenstrual. But what she had against hers right now were breasts as full and big as hers, and able to match her majestic assets contour to contour, curve to curve, with pinpoint accuracy.

As she noticed Marlene’s warm breath against her mouth, Petra realized that Marlene’s bosoms and her own had something else in common, at least that day: both pairs were braless. The four big tits were only separated by two thin layers of clothing, Petra’s light blue top against Marlene’s pastel pink top, so there were really almost no secrets between the girls’ glands—the soft skin, the firm flesh, the fat nipples, all that could Petra read on the other breasts without using her eyes. Unconsciously, the secretary slowly moved her big boobs up and down, right and left, feeling Marlene’s properly, measuring her size, shape and firmness and comparing it with her own merits.

“This is what you like, sweetheart?” Marlene whispered after the long silence. “Rubbing tits with strangers on the subway?”

Petra blushed, at that moment aware of what she was doing with her boobs…but she also realized that she wasn’t the only one doing unspeakable things. The other brunette was slowly, intentionally moving her shoulders to drag her big tits against Petra’s glands, no doubt taking note of how much firmness and size she was facing.

“It takes a hypocrite to accuse me of things you do too, honey,” Petra hissed. “Are you enjoying this?”

“I’m not a fucking dyke like you, if that’s what you want to know.” Despite Marlene’s words, Petra felt her rival rubbing her fat tits a little harder against hers.

“Neither do I,” she answered, her own breasts hardening against Marlene’s. “But still I’m gonna teach you a lesson.”

The female argument didn’t end then, but it did mutate in form—there was no point in arguing with words what boobs could argue for themselves. For a couple of minutes, the two pair of firm glands debated with each other in their own way, massaging through tops gently but determinedly. Petra was in no doubt about what answer both girls’ breasts were looking for, the usual visual comparison that every woman made and endured every day redirected to that more personal and veracious contact to find out which of them was bigger and fuller. The secretary had never been in a situation like this before, but somehow the exceptionality of the encounter was giving free rein to her most secret desires, as if darkness could hide what was really going on in her head.

“When are they going to fix this?” A passenger’s voice came to Petra’s ears as a reminder that the time she and her rival had was borrowed, a gift that could be gone at any second in a flash of light. Fearing she wouldn’t get what she wanted in time, she squeezed her tits a little tighter against Marlene’s boobs, forcing a soft hissing sound from both. This fearless movement brought the bodies of the girls a little closer together in that dark prison of tall passengers, and Petra again gasped in a low voice as she felt the upper part of her bosoms—exposed by her low-cut light blue top—touching Marlene’s. Bewildered, the secretary shuddered softly at the heated touch of the naked titflesh, but at least she could take comfort in feeling the other brunette shaking the same way.

At this point, Petra’s blue eyes had half adapted to the gloom, so the other brunette’s beautiful face appeared sharper in front of her. Marlene’s equally blue eyes glowed in the dark with hatred and envy, feelings that Petra was also dealing with as she felt the opposing breasts against her fat pair. But there was something else in Marlene’s flaming eyes, an arrogance and the hint of an explosive temperament so far under control who let the secretary know that she was in the presence of a woman who was not only physically, but also mentally and emotionally alike. Knowing herself, she knew Marlene, so Petra was aware that this would only end up with one of them being completely conquered, as neither of them would settle for anything less.

“There are breast-firming exercises, you know?” Petra whispered in the dark, trying to gain the psychological edge. “You should google them because, from what I’m feeling, you need them urgently.”

In front of her, Marlene’s face seemed to turn red even in that dim environment. Petra knew she was obscenely lying since, after the two-minute mutual breast assault, the only thing she had been able to confirm was how incredibly firm Marlene’s tits were. But that didn’t mean she had to admit it.

“Listen to me, girl.” The other beauty’s voice was slow, tense, as if Petra had really offended her. “You’ll never, ever feel firmer tits against your saggy little boobs, that’s for sure.”

“Mine aren’t saggy, and there’s nothing little in them either,” Petra grunted. The truth was, whether her breasts were bigger or Marlene’s, she felt incapable of telling, no matter how much she rubbed up against the other woman. But then again, she wasn’t going to concede anything to Marlene. “My babies are bigger and firmer than yours. Period.”

“Liar,” Marlene murmured before, to Petra’s surprise, getting her big tits as far away from hers as she could in the narrow fighting arena. For a second, the secretary thought Marlene had had enough, that the dirty friction of the sexualized glands had finally forced her to retreat…but she couldn’t be more wrong. Marlene’s mammaries came back with a heavy, tough blow and, before she knew what was happening, Petra found herself falling backwards against the man behind her.

“I’m so sorry,” she managed to say. Petra didn’t even hear what the man responded, her eyes burning with fury as she glimpsed Marlene’s arrogant smile in the shadows. Clenching her teeth, she went back to pushing herself body to body against the other brunette, her throbbing C-cup globes crashing again against her rival’s.

“Bitch,” Petra spat out her first b-word of the showdown. “You’re a cheater, attacking me by surprise…”

“Just like you did with your fat ass before, honey,” Marlene replied. “Now you know we can both play that game.”

“This isn’t a game, girl, not anymore,” Petra pushed her nose against Marlene’s, the curvaceous bodies of both women coming closer together than ever before. “You just turned it into something much more serious…”

“Good!” the other brunette grunted, putting a little more pressure on Petra’s breasts.

The heat in the wagon seemed to reach its peak as the two brunettes looked into each other’s eyes, for now both restricting the confrontation to just putting their gorgeous bodies face to face. It was no small thing, however, in that suffocating environment, and Petra soon realized how much toll it took for her to just push herself against Marlene’s curves. In fact, just a few seconds later she found herself having trouble breathing, suddenly the other brunette’s breasts feeling bulkier and harder than before. In front of her, Marlene’s mouth twisted in a victorious gesture, Petra’s moment of weakness evident through both pairs of tits. Feeling the pounding of their hearts under the chests, Petra gritted her teeth and focused on her own breathing, on her own glands. Something changed, as the pressure decreased and Marlene’s face flushed—now it was the turn of her enemy’s lungs to run short of breath. Petra felt a wave of pride that put a wide, smug smile on her sweaty face. But her victorious moment was as short-lived as Marlene’s and, seconds later, both set of sexy glands found themselves stuck together in a stalemate of size and stiffness.

“Dear passengers,” the voice of the speakers spoke again. “The electrical fault has already been found and repairs are underway. We expect to be up and running in a few minutes.  Please remain calm and thank you for your patience.”

“You’re running out of time to give me that lesson you promised, darling,” Marlene scoffed in the dark.

Petra opened her mouth to respond to the insolence, but something she felt in her chest stopped her—something was stabbing her sensitive flesh, like insolent little prickers. It took her brain two, three seconds to figure it out that what she was feeling was Marlene’s blood-filled nipples.

“And it was you who accused me of being a dyke…” she whispered. “You’re fucking hard, baby.”

“Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. You worry about your own stiffies, sweetie,” Marlene’s accusation caught Petra by surprise, especially when the secretary realized that her rival was telling the truth. She didn’t need to look down into that darkness to know how unexpectedly hard her milk ducts were.

“What’s wrong, Marlene?” Petra decided to take advantage of that embarrassing situation. “Afraid? I told you there was nothing little in my tits.”

“They are little if you compare them to what you’re feeling digging into your soft boobies, Petra, so you better shut up before—”

The secretary didn’t let her threat end. Pushing herself forward, she plunged her hard nipples into Marlene’s chest a bit more, lacerating her titflesh through the tops. The other woman had to close her mouth and her eyes for half a second, the slight tremor that ran through her rival’s body making Petra shake with joy. Never ever would she have believed that those thick, long cylinders of rubbery flesh on her breasts could be some kind of weapon, but here she was, stabbing with them like they were daggers—she had also never visualized her nice tits and round ass as armament but, in the darkness of the wagon, her whole female body seemed full of soldierly tools to use against that conceited dark-haired copycat. The problem was that Marlene didn’t come unarmed to this unconventional war, as her sexy body carried weapons of the same caliber. Petra felt the other brunette’s nipples jabbing into her boobs more actively, and felt forced to close her eyes and grit her teeth at the invasion of those fat, stiff flesh knifes. The secretary countered by moving her shoulders to push her erect rods even deeper into Marlene’s firm glands, and received immediate revenge from two rigid spikes penetrating her solid flesh again.

The two stubborn beauties exchanged sadistic stabs in silence, both controlling their panting as, around them, people were still unaware of the private woman-to-woman battle. The heat and nervousness continued to grow in the air of the wagon, but it was nothing even remotely close to the heat and nervousness that connected Petra to Marlene. The secretary could see the same crowd of feelings they had in the other almost spectral face, envy, mortification and disgust shining in blue eyes as neither she nor her antagonist stopped hurting each other physically but mostly emotionally.

“You don’t seem so big now that you feel me properly, huh?” Petra breathed in the dark.

“The only thing bigger in you is your big mouth,” Marlene gasped in a low voice while her milk ducts penetrated relentlessly. “In the rest, well, love, you’re not up to it.”

Petra pressed forward, bringing more of her bosoms and nipples against Marlene’s breasts. She was already feeling the weight of her sweat-soaked top and skirt, her dense tits electrifying under perspiration and friction.

“Don’t you dare to compare what you have with what I have, sweetheart,” the secretary grunted. “Just because you look a little like me and are my height and weight doesn’t make you my equal.”

“We’re not equals, right, because you don’t have these.” Marlene boldly pushed her nipples against Petra’s and, for the first time, the two stiff pairs touched each other through the wet fabrics.

Petra felt such an electric burst between nipples that she was surprised that the wagon didn’t get its energy restored and started up at that very moment. She groaned against Marlene’s mouth, and heard the other brunette’s own whimpering as an echo of her own, both beauties pulling their stiff weapons away from each other just a few thousandths after contact. Petra immediately sank her heated nipples into Marlene’s big breasts, as if the firm flesh were water for the fire in her big rods. She felt her contender’s hard nubs tightening against her own titflesh, the tremor in Marlene’s body speaking of the same weakness that she herself endured at that moment.

“Did you hear that?” someone asked not far from the warring women. Petra’s sweaty cheeks turned even more red. Up to now, the almost total darkness, the bodies of the tall men around them and the nervous voices of the other passengers had concealing their bodies in conflict and their angry voices, but the gorgeous secretary knew this wouldn’t last forever—they’d be lucky if they could fight for five, ten more minutes, before lights in the car came back or, worse, anyone noticed those two excessively close bodies in battle in the gloom.

Aware that the female confrontation had an increasingly imminent time limit, Petra decided to cross the next line in that fast, desperate duel. However, it was Marlene who took the initiative for half a second, as Petra felt her rival’s left arm encircling her waist, the big pink handbag that hung on the arm brushing the secretary’s waist and hips. The next thing the woman felt was Marlene’s right hand starting to claw at her exposed belly, nails dragging across the sweaty, flat abdomen, breaking skin for the first time in the catfight.

“You whore!” the secretary whispered in pain, clenching her teeth to avoid screaming.

“Do you like this, Petra Dogan?” Marlene said as she mockingly dipped a finger into Petra’s navel and pinched it. “There are so many ways I can torture a flabby body like yours…”

“You filthy…” Petra bit her tongue, not wanting to lose control. Taming her rage, she looked intently into Marlene’s eyes as she hugged her closer with the arm where her blue handbag was hanging. Then Petra reached for the other brunette’s naked abdomen with her own right hand. “Let’s see how you like to taste your own medicine, Marlene Pasha,” she gasped, dragging her nails across the delicate skin before plunging her finger into Marlene’s belly button.

“Fuck!” her rival moaned as Petra’s fingers felt a long vibration under Marlene’s belly, letting her know that she had just drowned out her own cry of anguish. “You’re gonna pay for this, girl.”

For intense, endless seconds, the two beautiful women scratched and pinched each other’s flat bellies, meticulously ruining their sexy virtues forged after hours and hours of Russian twists and side planks. Sweat poured down from their still-crushed fat breasts, drenching hands and bellies, perspiration making the scarlet trace cruelly left by their fingernails sting.

“Next time you see me on the subway, you’ll run off to another wagon,” Petra hissed.

“You won’t even dare enter the station,” Marlene replied.

Soon the two brunettes extended their ‘caresses’ to sides and thighs, spreading the red marks over nearly all the flesh within their reach in that uncomfortable, scorching, far-too-close embrace. The combination of scratching pain and itching sweat became so intense that Petra feared that she could not continue this dirty exchange for much longer, but she clung to the hope provided by Marlene’s muffled moans and physical shaking that the mutual punishment was being equally excruciating for both of them.

But, in the end, the determining factor was not the nails, but the intense heat inside the car. Suddenly dizzy, Petra ended up collapsing on Marlene’s body at the same time as the other brunette’s body fell against hers, the ten-minute catfight in the hottest environment in all of Berlin finally taking its real toll.

“You cunt,” Marlene gasped in a broken voice.

Petra felt like a success every time she got her rival to insult her instead of mockingly calling her ‘love’, ‘baby’ or ‘honey’. If Marlene was as emotionally similar to her as she seemed, she must feel the same way when Petra verbally assaulted her with swear words, but still the secretary couldn’t help but give free rein to her tongue.

“You dirty slut,” she panted, still embracing her nemesis, her lovely blue eyes filled with tears. “I’m not done with you yet.”

“Bitch, I’m not finished with you either,” Marlene spat back, her sweaty, teary face contorted with hate in the dark.

At that moment, Petra felt that everything seemed to slow down as she looked into those eyes that could be hers, the stubborn, nonstop contest taking an unexpected break that lasted only seconds in the real world, but an eternity in Petra’s head. She just couldn’t believe how much animosity she felt for this Marlene Pasha. She had had her own share of fights in her life—at high school after class, on a night of alcohol and wild dance, at her previous job with another secretary—but nothing like this, nothing so instantaneous, so instinctive. It had been hatred at first sight, at first touch. Petra had been pushed into the deepest rivalry she’d ever had with a woman she had just met a few minutes earlier.

This is stupid, Petra thought without much conviction, narrowing her eyes in front of the rival who was stalking her from the shadows, the animosity and jealousy that she felt for Marlene growing in her beating heart. It was all nonsense, even somewhat depraved in a sense, but the secretary also believed that it was somehow innate, if she heard the echoes coming from deep within the most primitive part of her brain. That the other Turkish-German woman was so much alike her also didn’t help—it made Petra doubt herself, doubt her individuality, as if the possibility that there was another ‘Petra-under-another-name’ that might be better than her made her existence secondary, useless, meaningless.

Ten seconds of introspection, and Petra already felt that she could never, ever redirect her relationship with the other dark-haired beauty in a direction other than a threatening train wreck, no matter how hard she tried. Everything Marlene was putting her through—humiliating on an emotional level, painfully on a physical level—was impossible to forgive, and that wouldn’t change in a month, a year, or a decade. And, from what she saw behind Marlene’s obscured blue eyes, there would also be no forgiveness, no understanding from the other side.

Swallowing hard, Petra knew it was time to leave the nebula of thoughts return to reality. Her rival’s body felt warmer than ever against hers, every breath from the other girl passing through their crushed breasts, every friction between strong legs electrifying centimeters and centimeters of silky skin. Even the mere brushing of Marlene’s handbag against Petra’s hips and waist was intensely felt by the secretary, her whole body hypersensitive to anything concerning that stuck-up brunette.

Suddenly, as if Petra’s head had been in multitasking mode while she analyzed the complex situation, her brain brought a very specific memory to the forefront of her thoughts. Years ago, in her wild late-night fight with a slutty white redhead, her drunken rival had resorted to a very dirty and desperate technique when Petra almost had her overpowered—a technique that almost turned the tide of that battle.

“Why are you smiling, babe?” Marlene asked her, pulling Petra out of her daydreams. The secretary hadn’t even been aware of her own grin.

“I smile because this ends here and now, sugar,” Petra whispered as she took the violent past experience and made it her ultimate weapon. Time was running out, so it was time for the most reckless and last-ditch move of the whole brunette-to-brunette competition. “Let’s see how much of a woman you really are.”

With a determination born of hatred, Petra thrust her right hand under Marlene’s short skirt, her fingers moving as fast as the attack of a cobra. Marlene’s whole body stiffened immediately against the invading hand, and her foe’s surprised gasp made Petra shudder with pleasure.

“Bitch!” Marlene hissed, the b-word coming from her fleshy lips furiously, but still not loud enough for anyone to discover the two women fighting.

“A ginger bitch taught me this,” Petra explained, her hand groping Marlene’s crotch. In front of her, the other female closed her eyes momentarily. “It didn’t work to her, but it seems to work perfectly with a weak pussy like you.” Her fingers found what she was looking for, and Petra couldn’t stop smiling again when she realized she had material to work with: Marlene’s bush of pubes was very thick—so thick that her little lingerie could not fully contain it. “If you’re gonna wear such skimpy panties, you should trim that gross fur of yours better.”

Petra pulled down the panties a bit and twisted her fingers into the curly hairs. A second later, a low, muffled hiss came out of Marlene’s throat, the pain and discomfort taking audible form.

“Real women have hair in their cunts,” Marlene objected just before Petra noticed her rival’s fingers leaving her thighs alone to get under her grey skirt. The next thing she noticed was the other brunette’s fingers manipulating her panties, a gentle tug pulling them down a few centimeters—enough to expose the pubes that crowned her private mound. “And you must think you’re a real woman with so much hair down here, huh?” Petra tightened up as she felt Marlene’s fingers clutching her dark bush. “You’re quick to judge my pubes, sugar, when you have all this.” 

Marlene’s sudden tug brought tears to the secretary’s eyes. She responded immediately with her own jerk, and even in the gloom she could see the watery glow in the other woman’s eyes. Cruelly, the beauties exchanged quick, fierce pulls of pubic hair for a few seconds, Petra hearing Marlene’s low moans as she herself failed to drown out her own.

“You slut!” she groaned, aware that she was the one who had crossed this line, opening the door to this painful, intense competition, so now she had to bear the consequences. Marlene’s fingers tugged at her pubes with a hatred that had nothing to do with her nightly scuffle years ago—the other brunette knew perfectly how to grab, how to yank, how to pull out by the roots.

“You don’t know the mistake you just made,” Marlene gasped, her voice sounding defiant despite the pain that lay behind it. “This isn’t my first dirty rodeo, dirty whore.”

“Just what I expected from a filthy bitch like you,” Petra grunted while her fingers and Marlene’s kept pulling on the other abundant pubic hair.

The torture didn’t stop in the dark by the car doors, neither Petra nor her nemesis giving up despite pain, tears and groans. The two beauties spent the next few moments ruthlessly plucking the pubic hair from each other’s generous mound in the most private of all the hair-pulling battles, the ground underneath them filling with dark curls. Petra could feel her mound of Venus being deforested hair by hair, pangs of agony spreading from her crotch to the rest of her body as she retaliated with Marlene’s pubes, tugging and tearing, the bush so thick that, no matter how much she ripped, there was always more to come back for.

“I’m gonna give you the trim your ugly pussy needs, honey,” the secretary spat out, the electricity in the air bursting through her sweaty skin.

“Not before I rip your little cunt bald, girl,” the other woman whispered angrily as Petra felt Marlene’s hand spreading out to catch as much hair as she could before giving a painful tug.

“Fuck!” Petra hissed in anguish, about to scream. Her body sounded the alarms, asking to be rid of the cruel hand that was causing it so much suffering, but the beautiful brunette didn’t allow it, not while it caused her to lose the opportunity to punish and subdue that despicable lookalike. So Petra gritted her teeth and, charged with hatred and fury, managed to uprooted a large handful of Marlene’s pubes.

“Shit!” her rival gasped in pain, her body again tightening against Petra’s vicious hand, the secretary feeling the same fight-or-flight response in the other brunette she had just faced. Half a second later, she had the answer to Marlene’s potential doubts with a new pull of hair against her sore pussy.

“You whore,” she snorted. “Just admit that I’m better than you and I’ll leave your cunt alone.”

“I will never tell such a lie, fucking bitch,” Marlene replied. “Give up and I will stop hurting your pussy.”

None of them took the surrender exit that each offered, aware of the mental havoc this would cause, so the mutual, forced depilation continued, fingers hooking black pubes, bodies shaking desperately, two young beauties sobbing at the invasion of their most precious parts until, to the surprise of both, the wagon lights flickered one, two, three times, before the darkness returned—a warning that soon the power would definitely come back. In desperation, Petra and Marlene accelerated their attacks, forcing several moans that nearly overtook the voices of the other persons.

“Dear passengers,” the voice of the speakers then announced, to the horror of both women. “Thank you for your patience. We’ll put in motion in a few seconds.”

“Just give up, Petra!” Another mutual pull filled both hands with pubes.

“You do it, Marlene!” Another tug forced more tears into their brown eyes.

What Petra had been fearing for minutes finally happened: the light returned for good, and the car began to move again, timidly first, then with the strength of the returning electric power. The frenetic cunt assaults of both brunettes, on the other hand, stopped immediately, but not for lack of electrical energy—there was nothing Petra wanted more, and she had no doubt that Marlene felt the same. But the fear of being discovered in the middle of this inappropriate female duel was stronger, paralyzing them for a few seconds under the blinding lights. Breast to breast, the beauties felt the other body’s burning and panting through their compressed glands, the pain in their pussies still throbbing against the malicious hands. Petra regained control first, pulling her fingers away from Marlene’s pubes, but not from under her skirt, and her antagonist did the same thing a couple of seconds later. Then they both backed off, as little as they could, pulling their firm boobs apart.

Only then was the dark-haired secretary really aware of the incredible, unnoticed battle she had engaged in with the other woman, the lights of the wagon revealing all the secrets the darkness had kept under its mantle. Marlene stood in front of her with pride, but obviously exhausted and sore, her cheeks covered in tears, her mask running a bit under her eyes. Now that she saw her for the first time face to face and in light, Petra was painfully aware of how much they looked alike, even more than she expected. Their facial features were remarkably similar, going far beyond just the color of their blue eyes or the thickness of their lips, their mild, oval-shaped faces sharing thin eyebrows, upturned eyes, delicate noses and even an analogous softening around the jaw line. Petra could see under all that sweat the same olive skin tone as hers, and follow the outline of Marlene’s big lips as if she were in front of a mirror. Her heart beat even harder when she knew that these were too many coincidences to live with even in a city as big as Berlin—and Marlene’s narrow blue eyes spoke of the exact same territorial feeling.

Petra forced herself then to look down, far from that almost perfect reflection. Through Marlene’s sweaty, almost diaphanous pastel pink top, the secretary could see her nemesis’ magnificent braless breasts, her fullness and roundness pounding her female ego hard. She had measured herself against those breasts with her own in one of the highpoints of the female duel, but not even what she had felt had prepared her for this sight of tight, wet cloth partially giving a glimpse of Marlene’s puckering areolas and stiff nipples. Here and there, Petra could observe the stabs that her own erect milk ducts had left on Marlene’s thick titflesh, the reddish rub marks that her boobs had made as they had squeezed against the other pair. Even at that moment, Petra still didn’t know if she had the advantage of size or density, and she regretted not having forced a more definitive contest in that aspect to resolve her doubts.

Further down, the secretary looked with sick satisfaction at the red cuts that her nails she had left on Marlene’s belly, sides and thighs, the soft, smooth skin of the other brunette ruined by scratches that would take a few days to heal—Petra found herself wishing that one of them turned into a scar, as a permanent reminder of the day when that conceited woman dared to face her in public. But if there was one wish she really wanted at that moment, it was to have x-ray vision to see through Marlene’s black skirt the purposeful hair-pulling work she had done on her crotch.

Looking back into those duplicated cloned blue eyes that she hated so much, Petra saw the other girl analyzing her body from top to bottom as she had been doing before. Seeing Marlene’s pleased eyes, she didn’t need to look down to know that her own curvaceous figure was as marked by the fight as her rival’s, her abdomen, sides and thighs clawed, her fat boobs branded as cattle by Marlene’s hot nipples. She must be showing the same tired, sweaty, almost wild look that Marlene was exhibiting, her sex appeal oozing out of almost transparent tops and bare skin. She must also be a disturbing sight in the eyes of the other brunette—by the tremor in her enemy’s pupils, Petra was sure that the astonishing parallels between their bodies and faces were harassing Marlene’s thought and ego just as they were haunting hers.

Again, it was the other passengers who brought Petra back to reality. There was movement around her, people getting ready to get off at the next stop—the end of the line, the secretary knew. But she and Marlene kept staring into each other’s eyes, their faces still beautiful despite sweat and exhaustion. Their hands were yet buried under the other skirt, under the other panties, but motionless. Luckily, their big handbags were hanging from her left arms, hiding from everyone what was going on down there. The rivals were on the verge of physical and mental collapse, but fate wanted to give them a couple more minutes to resolve their differences—the time left to reach the final stop—and now the brunettes’ eyes were debating whether to accept this extension.

At the same time, the rivals nodded slightly, and knew that the game was still on. Fingers were set in motion, but this time without pulling the other pubes—for a few seconds, both girls groped with curiosity the other private anatomy, and were surprised to find them wet.

“Damn lesbian,” Petra accused, her fingers full of feminine juices. “This is what you were looking for, isn’t it?”

“You’re the one who stuck your fingers under my panties first,” Marlene whispered in response, feeling Petra’s sticky fluids. “You were looking for this from the beginning, you dyke.”

“Shut up, you nas—”

Petra’s could not finish her insult, suddenly feeling Marlene’s finger touching her clitoris. Drowning out a groan, Petra quickly found Marlene’s clit, and massaged it with her fingertips. The brunettes trembled, mutually masturbating by the car doors without anyone noticing.

“Dear passengers, in a few seconds we will reach the end of the line. Get ready to…”

Ignoring the voice of the speaker, Petra put more effort into her stimulation of Marlene’s sexual rod, feeling it harden under her touch. Her own clit was growing under the assault of Marlene’s fingers, being touched in a way that no man had ever done before. The beautiful faces of the blue-eyed women exhibited their exasperation, both feeling unable to drown out their moaning for much longer, their secret battle reaching a stalemate that could only be broken in one way.

“Cum, Marlene Pasha,” Petra said, giving voice to the thoughts of both girls. “Then we’ll know that I am the sexier of the two.”

“You first, Petra Dogan,” Marlene replied. “Don’t count on overcoming my sexual stamina, babe.”

“Watch me break you!” Petra dipped a finger into the slit of Marlene’s pussy, and heard with pleasure the groan that her enemy exhaled. Revenge was immediate, and the forefinger of the other beauty penetrated Petra’s cunt viciously, forcing the office worker to moan.

The wagon began to slow down. In front of the door, the last station appeared. People began to turn to where the brunettes were. Frustrated, they both raped the other pussy again, aware that victory was near. The other sex kept spitting liquid, and a powerful pleasure, a boundless desire filled the other woman’s face completely. In and out, in and out; Petra and Marlene accelerated the mutual fingering, knowing that the next penetration could be the last one, the triumphant one.

The wagon had almost stopped, and the people on the platform were approaching the other side of the door. Petra felt the tremors from her rival’s sex, and knew she had Marlene—just one or two more cunt incursions and she would be finally hers. But at the same time she knew she herself would not resist one or two more raids from her enemy’s fingers.

Petra’s fear finally came true, and her pussy exploded in a painful, wet orgasm. But, in a kind of carnal compensation, she felt Marlene’s sex cumming hardly, copiously against her fingers at the same time. Shivering, the two Turkish-German beauties opened their mouths at the same time to scream the double defeat…and found themselves biting each other’s left shoulder to shut them up.

The orgasmic palpitations continued to pound with wave after wave of pleasure and humiliation until, with indescribable frustration, the dark-haired beauties pushed each other, getting their hands off each other’s soaked cunt. The tall men who were hiding them were turning around at last. Embarrassed, sweaty, Petra and Marlene turned their backs on them, facing the car door while hiding their right hands, full of sticky juices, behind their handbags.

With her breath impossible to control, Petra felt her cunt throbbing with irritation, her orgasm feeling like the greatest of all disgraces. She couldn’t believe anything that had just happened inside the wagon—it had been unreal, somehow a dream and a nightmare at the same time. And she wasn’t going to let it go, so she leaned over Marlene’s ear.

“You’re a weak whore in heat, and you know it,” she whispered. “I made you cum against my fingers, and I’ll do it again if I see you around here.”

“I’m not afraid of you, Petra Dogan,” Marlene replied in her ear. “Not after feeling your little pussy coming so easily. And if I meet you again in the subway, I’ll finger-fuck you again.”

“You won’t get lucky a second time, Marlene Pasha.  Next time, I’ll make you my bitch with my fingers.”

Separating her face from Petra’s, Marlene looked at her defiantly before opening her pink handbag and pulling out a business card. She dropped it into Petra’s blue handbag while the doors opened to the marabout of passengers.

“Call me when you get off work. Let’s make sure we take the same subway back.” That was the last thing Petra heard from Marlene before she lost it in the crowd.

With her wet cunt throbbing, the secretary knew the trip home was going to be really intense…

THE END

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