It is Linda’s intention to push Christina away — to earn distance and then take control of their battle of sexual prowess once more.
But as she feels it: her rival’s tongue slither and snake up her breast, the blonde finds herself frozen in the moment — caught though she ought strive.
For though she and Christina each seek to out-do and out-fuck each other, there in their mutual girlfriend’s bedroom.
Each is but a woman.
But a human.
Prone to the same weakness and frailty, when their will to resist is put to the test.
And so, at least in that one moment amongst many, to the pleasure inflicted and a hunger for more, she gives in. Her mouth opening to take a heavy, lust-moistened breath, as her once grasping fingers soften atop Christina’s jet-black hair.
That desperately inhaled air flooding into Linda’s lungs a mere second before she collapses back onto their prize’s unmade bed.
The woman who brought about her fall chasing after her. She seeking to turn Linda’s moment of vulnerability, into defeat and subjugation. With the hope of labeling the once proud blonde side-bitch, or if it fits her mood at the moment, even slave.
A slave who will watch as the black-haired beauty fucks the lover they once shared.
A slave who will beg to be allowed to do more.
A slave who will sit in the corner on her knees without clothing.
A slave who will worship their battle’s victress evermore.