For years their husbands had begged them to consider it.
Whispered to them that their bodies were so well-matched, that they two were born to wrestle each other.
Offered trades of chores, favors, or purchases, to get them to try it just once.
But none of it worked. None of it moved them. No, it was not until one night, when their husbands had gone out drinking together, that they met for the first time.
They had intended not to fight, or even to discuss such an occurrence, instead wanting simply to befriend the wife of their husband’s best friend. To talk about makeup and television – clothing and shoes. But as soon as the door opened, and they laid eyes on the other’s absolute mirror of a body, neither found space for words, or time for chat. Every word their husbands had ever spoke about the other suddenly returned to their minds, stirring within them anger, jealousy, and hate – feeling which they could not have even imagined to exist within them.
Driven by such raw, and unexpected emotions, they both stepped forward in the doorway, pressing their massive tits together, and bringing the tip of their own nose to bear against their rival’s – their eyes locked together in an intoxicating and unblinking glare.
From there, that silent confrontation, they engaged, without even a single word spoken, or challenge made or accepted, each knowing exactly what had to happen between them. Their movements were slow, and holds lingering – their blows half-pulled, and tugs at hair made just hard enough to cause pain, but not damage. In such a way do they battle, not because their inflamed rage lacked fire or ferocity, but instead because each realized that their impromptu struggle was just the beginning. Their beginning. Of a war that had been brewing for years – of a battle that they would continue whenever they met – whenever they were alone. Always hiding it from their husbands, whilst knowing, secretly, that they have tried each other, tested each other, tasted each other – neither willing to share their feud with the men they love – neither allowing it to be turned into fodder for foreplay, when it is so very, very much more.