Emily

I’m just getting ready to head into the sauna for my weekly steam – the atmosphere does wonders for the skin… stepping into the small locker room in my bikini after my swim and quick shower, I strip off my bikini top and toss it into a locker, and I’m just about to do the same with my bikini bottoms when the door opens, and you step in…. We’ve danced around each other here for a little while, a mutual loathing at first sight based on the fact we have virtually identical bodies, but now? There’s no way around each other… I give you a glare, and pull my shoulders back a little, making my chest jut out and making damn sure you can see how firm and big they are..

Chloe

Every day someone comments. Every day someone tells me how similar our bodies are and how we MUST be friends. We must share the same workout routine or have the same trainer. None of it is true and all of it pisses me off. Yes, maybe our bodies look similar, but only to the untrained eye. Only to someone who isn’t paying close attention.

It is that constant reminder that makes me glare at you as I walk into the overly small locker room. My top already coming loose and falling into my hands, as my red bikini bottoms hug my hips. Knowing I can’t let you think for a second your boobs are bigger or firmer, I straighten my back, stick out my chest and try to ignore you.

Emily

You straighten your back, and it’s like a switch flips in my head. We’ve ignored each other aside from some catty sideeye, or the occasional bitchy comment when we happen to pass each other, but in this small space, with no-one else around… the challenge we give each other just cannot…. CANNOT be denied. I lock eyes with you, glaring, and deliberately take a slow step towards you, the size of the room meaning I stop in the middle, the intention clear here, my only question is if you’ll have the presence of mind to lock the door leading to the main concourse before you inevitably step to meet me…

Chloe

All you have to do, bitch is not look up. Not look into my eyes as I stand near the door, bikini top in hand. But of course, what do you do? You raise your head and look. Not with a nice, sweet smile. Not with a gentle nod or anhing like it. No, you glare like a fucking cunt, putting yourself right where I need to go with intention. And if that’s the way you want to play, I think to myself, fine…. My left hand moving behind me to the door handle, locking it shut, just as my right dims the overly bright lights above us to soft, orange glow. “You trying to start something?” I ask, as I step towards you. Not stopping t a foot an inch, or even a centimeter. Instead stepping right into you. Breast to breast and eye to eye.

Emily

That first touch of our chests is electrifying… the sensation of titflesh pressing lightly together, of my rapidly stiffening nipples jabbing against your skin… and the pressure of yours against my skin… for a moment I’m rapidly working down a checklist… do you feel as big as me? do you feel as firm? Are your nipples harder? Longer?… and every single fucking point comes back… Equal… Equal…. Equal… and I absolutely hate it… so of course I escalate, shifting my shoulders lightly left and right, letting our breasts roll together as we get closer and closer, my nose almost touching yours, our eyes still locked… “Trying? No. Actually starting something? You better believe it, bitch…”

Chloe

I always thought, that if we really tested. That if we really measured. That if you and I really pressed chests, it would be obvious mine were bigger, better, and firmer. But here, now, when it is just us in this quiet, locker room, all of those hopes and beliefs shatter. Our every ounce of breast measuring out the same. From nipples, to areolas, to shape and size. It drives me wild. Drives me insane. But I can’t show it. I can’t let you see it. So instead I push and drag. Shifting my body from side to side. Dragging my tits against yours, hoping you will back off and run. “Well you chose the wrong bitch to start something with, cunt….”

Emily

Our tits slowly compress, pushing together harder and harder, more and more firmly, our nipples gradually disappearing as they push deeper into each others breasts. First it’s pressure, then the pressure gets more and more, not quite pain yet, but definitely discomfort… but I’ll be damned if I show it on my face or in my eyes, so close to yours now you could see every expression I make.. I can actually feel our eyelashes flick together every time one of us blinks, and whilst up to now my hands have been on my own hips…. now they slowly slider over your own skin, digging claws in lightly to make sure we stay pressed together as I hiss, quietly but very, very clearly, the breath hot on your lips… “Prove it, whore…”…

Chloe

Nobody can see us. Nobody can hear us. Nobody even knows were here, pressed breast to breast in this lonely locker room on the far end of the soon to be closing gym. And though we are safe. Secure. And won’t be interrupted. I want more of you. To get closer to you. Your hands moving to my body and digging in with claws, as mine mine to your lower back and lock at the wrists. Our eyelashes catching and nose tips brushing as we sink deeper and deeper into a war of attrition and tits. “I’ll prove my tits are stronger.” I say before slamming them forward into yours. “Bigger” I add with another press. And sexier. One more descriptor I give, with a final clap of flesh that has already begun to wet with perspiration.

Emily

We are a vision of contrast. Caucasian and Asian. Blonde and Brunette. But in this area, our physicalities, we could be twins, our bodies identical from the neck down… and though your impact onto my chests make me grunt and take a step back, pulling you with me, I quickly stabilise, and promptly return the favour… shifting my shoulders backwards before driving my chest into yours, as hard as I can given the limited space… “Mine are bigger…”. I snarl, twisting my claws into your hips as I drive in again… “Firmer….”… I hiss…. and one more time.. “..Better…”… I whisper hotly right into your face…

Chloe

The further we go and deeper we sink into this moment of competition I feel myself pulled to like gravity. Your every look, counter, and threat a venom that hits my veins on contact. Intoxicating me to the point where I forget that outside this locker room there are people. Friends. Family. My only thoughts bent on breaking your tits with my own. Tits that slam into me, as you mirror my promises to prove. Each such collision of flesh and fire causing me to let loose a small moan of pain. And yet still, with them given, I lean back into you and drag.

Emily

We separate just slightly… just enough for our tits to pull free, the sweat making them stick just a little as we glare at each other, chests heaving slightly as we already breathe hard… my fingers twist into the ties of your thong bikini bottom, and with a spiteful jerk I snap them, letting the remains of your bikini fall to the floor, leaving you nude… one corner of my mouth quirking up into a smirk..”You won’t be needing those, bitch…”…

Chloe

I don’t want to pull away. Don’t want to give you even a second more where I am not actively teaching you my tits are better. And yet with a challenge issued and accepted. We pull apart. Each of us wanting more than anhing to get back at each other, and yet still, in the Chloe lights that surround, we glare and size one another’s bodies up. for the first time since we saw each other understand we are too equal for the great question lingering between us to be settled any other way.

And as if I needed any more reason to hate you or be tit to tit with a glare, you untie my bottoms as you start moving towards the Sauna. My legs carrying me after you so that just before you reach its door, I am able to reach out and untie your own. They falling to the floor just as we disappear inside.

Emily

I walk towards the door of the sauna – there’s a couple in this complex, ranging from one person ones all the way up to the bigger ones for groups. This one is designed for two people, technically, but putting two people in there makes it a little cramped, a little claustrophobic… which is usually why it’s usually just used by one person at a time… but that cramped atmosphere is perfect for what’s about to happen in there.

Before we reach the door, we’re both nude, pulling away the others bikini and letting them drop to the floor, and I can feel the heat of your gaze on my back, my legs, my ass… and I sway my hips a little more just to get your heart beating faster, your breathing a little harsher… and believe me, if it did, I heard it.

I open the door, and a wave of heat pushes out and against us… but I just walk into it and into the sauna, my left hand picking up the ladle next to the door and throwing a splash of water onto the rocks with a hiss and a small explosion of steam. It’s only two steps from the door to the opposite wall, the bench on the right hand side, and I stop in front of the wall, and turn to face you, the first beads of sweat already starting to emerge and slide down the hollow between my tits…

Chloe

I watch you like a huntress watches her prey. Like a stalker watches their victim. But you are neither of those — prey of victim. You are strong, beautiful, and possess a body and a beauty that seem to be identical to my own.

It is that similarity that makes this fate necessary. This battle unavoidable. This contest inescapable. Since the first time we laid eyes on each other, and because of every exchanged glance since then, we have built towards this moment.

One that sees me step towards you nude, my eyes narrowed and sparkling with excitement. My tits lifting and swaying with every hip-heavy step. Each of us trying to impress upon the other how sensual we are. How attractive and confident. How certain and unaffected we remain, even in the face of such a war.

A war I bring us towards, as I continue to step until our newly sweat-covered tits hang just a quart centimeter apart. Our rigid nipples grazing softly, as my lips open in threat. “You will never be the same after this, bitch….”

Emily

Our eyes locked as soon as you closed the sauna door behind us, an action that sent the temperature in the room rising almost straight away, both physically and mentally. You take a step forwards, and although you seem eager to take a second, I take one to meet you, with the result that we end in the middle of the sauna, our tits so close to pressing together nude for the first time… and we pause there, both for self torture and to torture the other with the sensation that brought us to this place to start with.

The sensation of a pair of virtually identical tits, just as large, just as firm, in front of ours… on a body just as identical, and a mind just as bitchy and competitive… driving the two of us wild internally.

I hissss lightly as our nipples graze… accidentally at first, but still sending small shocks through me – and then I shift my shoulders slightly, sending my stiff nipples back against yours from the side, pressing them together whilst still keeping our tits apart…

“Oh, I know… I’ll know… KNOW… that I have the better tits… the better body… bitch.”

Chloe

We want to prove that we’re better. That our tits, even though they look so very similar, are a tale of two different qualities. Neither of us doubting for a second that our own pair is superior. And though we want that decided, and for the other to know it is our tits that are supreme, we want this.

All of it.

Not in a rushed, haphazard and wild frenzy of swinging breasts and crashing nips, but instead to savor it. This moment before and then everhing after it. Taking our time with each other. Wanting to linger and languish together in a slow war of attrition. And because of that desire, we remain close, but not pressing. Slowly and teasingly swinging our chests, so that our undeniably hard nipples brush once and then again. For a moment, with every contact, their tiny wrinkles catch and cling to each other, before they part, and we come again. Every such meeting sending a spark up our spine as we glare into each other’s eyes.

“Oh, I think YOU’LL know my tits are hotter and tougher than yours. And then we can get to the rest of our bodies cunt. Don’t bite off more than you can *chew*.”

Emily

Only girls like us understand titfights. The difference between a titfight, and say, boxing, is that in a boxing match, you can attack without fear that you’ll damage yourself, you just have to defend as well.

But a titfight? A proper, breasts vs breasts titfight? It’s virtually impossible to launch any kind of attack without also damaging yourself, even if only minutely… because you’re attacking with the exact weapons that your rival is intending to crush. So a titfight is. almost always, a war of attrition, of willpower… praying that your tits can take more punishment than the others… and that’s why it’s such a big deal to win, or indeed, to lose…

Our nipples keep meeting and brushing together, and if anhing, both sets become harder and longer… I can’t remember the last time my nipples were this hard, almost painfully so…. begging to be buried deep into your flesh…. and so, the next time we brush our rods, as they part, I pull my shoulders back just slightly, enough to sink my nipple into your tits… but because actions beget reactions, I can feel your own nipples pressing against mine… the quiet breathing and hissing of insults punctuated by the gasps as titflesh is spiked, just for a second….

“I’ll remind you that you said that when I’ve crushed your tits and you’re sucking my better ones, whore…”

Chloe

The dull burrr sound of the sauna’s fan. The steam’s own hiss, that intermingles with our own, as it rises from the red hot rocks near the entrance. It is only those sounds that linger in the hot air around us. Only they that try and fail to obscure the noises we make for each other. Tiny, delicate noises that despite our very best efforts to look unaffected and confident beyond measure, betray us. The gentle hanging moans, deep gasps, and near inaudible whimpers making it clear that we are desperate for this. Thirsty for each other in the most keen and unquenchable of ways. Your every movement part of my obsession. My every reaction core to your deepest and darkest fantasy. We would never admit that to each other. Never tell or reveal it, knowing how the other would hold it over our head. But in that same way, and hinging on an unspoken trust amongst we two rivals, we do not comment on what we hear. Or what we know to be true about our mutual hunger. Not yet…. Not until we are deep into the madness we plan. Tit to tit and overwhelmed with a need to turn the other on even more with trash talk.

And to get to that point, and turned on more now than ever before by the challenge a perfect rival presents, I see you roll your shoulders. Timing it so that just after one brushing of nipples amongst many, you drive yours forward and into my areola. A move I counter by doing the same, and in the process, lodging my dagger-tipped triggers at the center of my tits next to yours.

A sudden confluence and connection that is miles more intense than all we have done so far, and yet it isn’t enough. The feeling of your nipples and mine coming together and holding making me step forward, and in a single instant, bringing our identical breasts together in a clash of shifting flesh, stabbing tips, and gasping lips.

“Biiiiiittttcchhhh.”

Emily

You step forwards, and I have time to respond – I could choose to meet you halfway, but instead I just brace and let you come to me, our tits pressing firmly together for the first time, flesh colliding as our nipples drill deeper into our firm titmeat, tits mushrooming together as our faces come closer and closer, lips almost touching, noses rubbing, eyes still locked… but now, we can see every reaction to our motions – at this distance, deceit is virtually impossible.

I gasp harshly as our tits come together, the sound louder in the humid atmosphere of the sauna. For a few seconds we just stand there, both trying to process the sensation of two identical pairs of tits finally pressing together in what promises to be the first of many, many encounters. My teeth score my lower lip briefly, biting lightly and reddening the skin. I know that personally my only chance of winning this furious encounter is to hold off my deep, dark, jealousy-fueled lust for the body in front of me for long enough to flatten your tits, and I can see flashes in your eyes that match my feelings.

After a second or two, I move, sliding my left hand over your hip, letting my nails lightly rake the skin, before sliding to the small of your back and tightening my grip, pulling your harder against me, feelin our tits compress even more… my other hand I keep free for the moment, our trash talking temporarily limited to hissed words and insults through our moans…

“Sluttttttttt.”

Chloe

I have fought women with my tits before. Women I hated. Women I barely knew. Women with bigger tits. Women with smaller tits. And in those battles, most of the contest was about enduring and inflicting.

Pressing hard and shifting with purpose. Keeping up the tempo of my tits slamming into theirs, and finding ways to trap their breasts with my own.

But now, like never before, I am forced to fight two different wars. ONE, the same contest as in all those other battles, but added to it, resisting my own desires. I want you. I want you so fucking bad. Because of your body, which is so like mine, our tans alone separating our appearance. You beautiful face that I want to curve from its constant confident smirk and dismissive glare to one of pleasure, desperation, and regret.

But if I give in, before you…. If I let myself think of that moment, that expression, that domination of my perfect rival, I will lose this battle, and the opportunity to have it.

And so I try, as our breasts come together for the first time in this sauna, to focus on breaking your tits with my own. A hard enough task, even without slipping into desire, given how good — how amazing it feels to press my tits with yours. Each of us moaning, and cursing out the only word we can muster, as we settle in. The wave of nearly unbearable pleasure and pressure only just cresting, when you step forward into me, and our tits both flatten and expand. It taking everhing in me not to let my mind drift to a kiss or a bite. The feeling of our bare toes coming to a gentle press beneath us, adding fuel to our fire as I close my eyes, and mutter. “Your tits are nothing…. Nothing … cunt….”

Emily

This is a war like no other I’ve ever been engaged in. Both a ruthless war for dominance of the others tits, and a war for self control so that I don’t make myself lose the first battle.

The first starting with our chests crushing together as we both step into the other, toes pushing together, stomachs occasionally rubbing. But the focus is on your tits. Your tits, and your face.

Your tits, as I can feel. Every. Fucking. Inch of them pressed against mine, your stiff nipples digging into my flesh, our own heavy breasts compressing against mine, both sets firm enough to not give, but then leading to uncomfortableness and later on, no doubt, some pain. I literally feel a droplet of sweat roll over the upper half of my right tit, down into the valley between our heaving breasts, and then transfer over to your tit, and it takes everhing I have not to moan at that sensation.

Your face, as I watch for any indication that my attacks are having any effect, watching your eyes, and trying my hardest not to look at your delectable, so very kissable, bitable lips. The darkest part of this war being that if it wasn’t for hating each other for our tits, we’d still end up in a fight, only it’d be an all out hatefucking sexfight… and God, I want that… but I can’t think about it right now, not when I have a pair of big, firm, fucking perfect tits to break…

You still have your arms at your sides for now, and as I see you close your eyes,I loosen my arm around you and drop my knees slightly, bringing my tits just slightly below yours, before straightening up and tightening my grip, compressing our tits again, but now with my iron-hard tips digging into the lower half of your tits… hissing into your face as I watch your eyes flash open.. “My tits… ngghhh… are going to wreck yours….. Skank…”

Chloe

I leave my hands at my sides, even as you move yours to my hips. Claiming my flesh, my space, and my body as yours to hold and to have. We are enemies, but in this moment, we have given our bodies to each other — committed in the most intimate and primal of ways to this contest.

My hands should raise to do the same. To send a message if nothing else. To stop you from controlling even this early stage of this engagement, as you pull be closer, and then control my body as you drop. Dragging your tits down mine, and then after using your grip to once more advance, to shove your gorgeous breasts up into the bottom of my own.

We have only just begun, and so the pain has not set in, not has the aching begun. And yet still, I grit my teeth as you execute your maneuver. A soft grunt escaping my lips as you apply a hard, heavy pressure from below. My eyes wet with passion and desire, and my body even wetter as one droplet of sweat after another cascade down our necks, onto our breasts, and then into the valley and hollow between them.

If you were broken — beaten, and begging me to own you, I would lick every drop of sweat from your body and them share them with you in a hateful, jealous kiss. But now they can only pool, and then seep between our warring weapons of flesh and fire.

“Not now….” I mutter back, as my eyes glint with a seen opportunity. “Not next time….” I continue, as my arms finally move. Lifting and wrapping around your neck, and on top of your shoulders before my fingers lace behind you. “Not ever, slut….” I finally finish my retory, just as you try to come back up, to once more drag your tits vertically over mine, and complete your long, drawn out attack. But my arms flex, and I try to keep you from returning. Thereafter using my body to lean in, lean down, and put the full weight of my tits on yours. Hoping to use your angle to my advantage.

Emily

You interrupt my attack with a counter of your own, your arms winding around my neck in what anyone watching might assume is a loving embrace… anyone, that is, who knows nothing about the rivalry between two almost identical, confident women. You press against me as I try to straighten up again, and my attack into the undersides of your tits, at first one sided, now becomes a two way war – me trying to penetrate your underboobs with my nipples, you using the weight of your tits to grind down onto mine.

I let out a wince – a small one, certainly, but with our faces where they are, one you can’t fail to spot – it’s not painful, exactly, but it’s certainly getting more uncomfortable as the pressure builds, just as I sure my nipple are starting to bite into your flesh. But this is early days, and there’s plenty I can do to turn this around.

I move my face even closer to yours, lips almost brushing yours, teasing you… a dangerous move, as I have to stop myself from going that last fraction of an inch and claiming your mouth with mine, opening another front in the war… but for now I’m merely trying to distract you, my breath on your lips a sweet torment as I murmur through our groans… “Right here….” my hands on your hips tighten.. “…and right now, cunt…”.. as I grip hard and lift… not too much, just enough to make you lose your purchase on the ground, and for just long enough for me to take two quick steps, aiming to drive your back into the sauna door, and thus ram my tits right into yours…. and as we head that way, it occurs to me in the back of my mind, the part that isn’t consumed with this war, to wonder whether you thought to lock the sauna door before we started…

Chloe

There it is.

The first moment where prolonged contact becomes painful. The sharp tips of your nipples, when my downward pressure meets with your opposing press, doubles and perhaps triples the force at which they are driven in. A sudden increase in insertion into soft flesh that makes me take a sudden, skipping breath, just as you wince. Each of us, for the first time showing weakness. Showing the effect of what is just the beginning of a war that seems like it might be endless.

God, I wish it could be. And though I do wish that future could be ours, the two of us locked tit to tit for the rest of our lives, hissing and hating — pressing and pushing, I keep to my direct effort to avoid that outcome. Trying to keep you beneath me, so that I can batter and bash your tits with the weight of my own.

Yes, it feels like those breasts of mine, which had only moments before felt invincible, are hanging on daggers. Daggers that sting, and feel like they soon will pierce and draw blood, unlikely though that may be. But it is a trade off I will make, to wear out the entirety of your tits, at the cost of opening up new weak spots below my own.

But as I decide to and then try to keep that hold on you, you lean in. Lean closer. Giving me every indication you’re going to kiss me, and I … I want…. I can barely…. No… If you did, I might melt. If you did, at this moment of weakness, I might forget everhing driving us and this competition. But to my luck you stop short, trying to bait me. Attempting to lure me in, sharing breath with me, as our heart’s race and drags at the air skip. Your lips brushing mine as you respond to my taunt, sharing the very first hint of your flavor with me, before you lift me, not high and not far, but up off the ground so you can step forward carry me. Back and towards, dropping me just in time to escape my trap, and then flatten me against the sauna door.

A door I forgot to lock. A “mistake” I dare you to correct, while I dare deep in your eyes, the tips of our noses pressing together and bending. “Lock it, biiiiitch…” I say as in a mirror of your tease, I drag my own lips against yours….

Emily

I slowly force you into the door, the thin latch straining and the pressure, and to the unobservant it might seem that I have all the advantages… the better position, my tits grinding into yours, you pinned between my body and the wood of the door.

The unobservant are idiots.

Yes, my tits are pressing against yours, and yes, in theory my position is currently better… but the pressure of our breasts is two-way, your firm globes pushing hard into mine even as mine press forwards.. your stiff nipples digging into my flesh just as my own pink rods drive further into your tits, both of us watching for any indication of weakness, or pain, or even pleasure… it all helps.

You brush your lips against mine as you hiss at me to lock the door, and for a minute, all I want to do is open a new front in the war and claim your mouth with mine, wear your tongue out… but I hold back with an effort of will – that’s not what this fight is about, and I’m not going to give in to your admittedly perfect body until after you do.

I shift my hand from your hip over to the lock, flipping it shut as my other hand flattens against the wall next to your head, my body pressing against yours at every point – tits, nipples, stomach, hips – the heat a distraction as I try and focus on crushing those tits that challenged me every time I saw you…

Chloe

The air is hot. Moist. Steam-filled and already scented with our growing and yet near unmatchable excitement. And so when that air is replaced with a door, as it presses hard against my back, I moan. A sound that slips between my lips and then yours, only a second before you lock the door behind us, flatten your palm against the surface behind me, and then pull back just far enough from our threatened kiss to let me see your hard-bent smirk.

In an instant I know what you’re thinking. What you’re wanting from me. To give in to the lust we feel first. To cross the line, and admit to you that of the two of us, I want you more. Even as your hips and thighs align just perfectly to give me the opening. Leaving me the option to chase your lips with my own and kiss you. The room to lift a thigh, wrap it around your ass, and then pull your pubic mount into mine.

Yes, this is a titfight, between two women with perfect pairs to do just that. But you’ll allow me to take more. To dare to go further. Because when I do, in your eyes and mine, I will have conceded a round. This round, the first of what we both know and understand will be only one of oh so many.

But rather than giving you and us that immediate satisfaction, I hiss back at you and your expression. “You’ll … you’ll kiss me first, bitch…..” The words are so drenched with lust I sound drunk, and yet they come with a hard, sudden, and tactical drive of my body into yours. Not forward and off the wall, but to the left, so that we roll across it. My plan to reverse our fortunes and pin you, just as you now have me hinging on how ready you are for me fight back, despite the passion that so clearly grips each of us.

Emily

The atmosphere is hot and dry enough that in our exertions, every breath is a pant, a gasp, a gulp of air into our lungs, the movements conveying a desperate edge to the whole thing as our chests heave against each other in a struggle for air as well as dominance.

You pull back from my face and hiss your comment, and we both know in that instance that a new method of battle has just been agreed to – not something that would grant victory to one of us, but certainly one that would let the other gloat, give them confidence if they won it.

I’m about to respond when you jerk to the left, catching me by surprise enough that we roll along and off the door, onto the wall inbetween said door and the bench that takes up the long wall, and now it’s my back against the wood, and your body pressed against mine.

And it feels…fucking delightful, to the point where in the back of my mind I have to remind myself that this is a war, and that you’re a fucking BITCH… and so I curl my arms around your back, press my forehead into yours, and hiss back… “You’re going… to want me…too much to…stop yourself, whore…”… and then tighten my arms around you almost convulsively, pulling your chest against mine hard in an attempt to minimise your positional advantage by starting a nasty bearhug…

Chloe

It was my gambit. My chance taken. And yet when it works, and we roll, and suddenly I have you pinned against the wall, it is not just you who acts in panic. No we each scramble to make the most of the moment and our new alignment. You wrapping your arms around me, just as I drag my tits down yours. Positioning by perfect breasts just beneath your own, so that my own nipples dig into the soft beneath of your weapons. Mirroring the advantage you had not moments ago as you lifted me off the ground and walked me to the door of the sauna.

And though I do not lift you completely, as my own arms snake behind your lower back and lock with fingers coiling around my forearms, I lift you just enough to make you stand on your tiptoes. Gravity trying to pull you down on my dagger-sharp nipples, as your eyes tell me of your realization. Not fear. Not regret. But an acknowledgement of my slight, though still consequential advantage.

One that I make worse, as I lift up onto my own tip toes, and increase the grip and grind of gravity you must struggle against. Dragging you up the wall another inch or maybe two.

“Just give into it, you … you … Asian slut….” I whisper to you as I cross another line. My voice mixing with the mist that surrounds us. “Just kiss me…. I know you want to….” So close, I lean in, nuzzling my nose against yours as between us our tits compress. Each of us hurting. The downward pressure of your own making the top of mine ache, just as my nipples try to impale and irritate your gorgeous undersides.

Emily

We both scramble to make the most of our new position – arms sliding around bodies, hands gliding over wet, sweat-streaked skin, tits grinding and rolling – until the flurry of movement pauses with me pressed against the wall, and you pressed up against me, both of us on tip toes, and my tits slightly above yours as they work against each other again.

Your nipples digging into the undersides of my tits makes me wince – the pressure itself isn’t any more than the last time this happened, but now both our perfect pairs are feeling the impact of our titfight a little – although not visible yet, some mild bruises would no doubt be seen tomorrow if we stopped here…not that either of us has any intention of stopping.

You hiss your insults at me, upping the ante there as well, your nose brushing against mine, and I respond hoarsely, my voice roughened by both the dry atmosphere and the exertion of our battle… “You…first…. you Jewish bitch…”… my tongue flickers out of my mouth to just touch my upper lip… and your mouth is so close, its a strain to not lick your lip as well… but I resist, whilst knowing that you can probably feel the heat and moisture from my tongue, it’s so close…

I pull my shoulders forwards, forcing my tits down and closer together, putting as much pressure on your tits as I can – it’s a stopgap measure at best, just looking to ause you as much trouble as possible while I think of a way to turn this fight to my advantage…

Chloe

I can tell if its the heat, the sweat we’ve already lost, or the excitement of this moment. An excitement unlike anhing I have ever felt before. Yes, I have been in titfights. Yes, I have met girls whose bodies matched my own.

But none of them affected me like you. It seeming like you were built by the gods to make me jealous and lustful. Your eyes so pretty, wet with passion, and fierce that I lost myself in them. Your lips, in their transition from one expression to another like a storybook I cannot tear my eyes away from. Your nose scrunching and flaring with every look of confidence and dare so perfectly, that I want to bite it off or kiss, whichever would cost me less in this battle.

Worst, I see, in perhaps an imagined refraction, that I am having the same effect on you. Making every moment of this battle both heaven and hell. Until all of it is made both worse and better, when you join me in bringing race into all of it. Commenting on me being Jewish, just as I did with you being Asian. It sends a spark up my spine, and makes me shiver. My tongue moving to lick my lips, just as yours extends to do the same. At first I feel just warmth from those mirrored movements, but then the bottoms of our tongues brush.

Surely this is it. We’re going to kiss. You’ve given in, or I have. One of us. Both of us. I cannot tell, and yet just as my arms open a centimeter or two to prepare for our first war of tongues, you bring your shoulders forward, bring your tits in, and then roll them down into mine. For you it was just an attempt to apply pressure. But with my loosened bearhug, your tits dive between mine, and then when I try to recover, and retake my grip, I trap them.

But trap and implies I am in control, when in fact, at the very moment my tits seize around yours, we both moan out in pain. The pressure out, just as great as the pressure in, with neither pair able to safely endure without pain. “Fuuuuuck….” I curse in a lament, though I refuse to let go.

Emily

The dichotomy is there in our eyes… in our expressions… in every movement of our bodies against each other. The loathing and the lust. The hate and the attraction. The instinctive knowledge both of us have that this bitch in front of us is our perfect match in every way, and if we’d met in a different way… maybe our soulmate rather than the vicious, all-consuming rivals we’ve become.

My tits shift forwards in between yours, and yours press in against them… but from your moan, it clearly wasn’t planned, as you didn’t set yourself properly and so you’re taking just as much pressure as I am…. not that that helps me, of course, my own voice joining yours… “Nngghhh, Godddd..”… Willing my tits to not soften, to force themselves against yours and win the battle – something about this titfight, about you, is driving me wild in a way that no other bitch has. My moan pulls my tongue back from my upper lip, and as it shifts back, the tip rakes down the underside of yours, still touching your own lip, before pausing just inside my open mouth, our eyes still locked, but narrowed and hazy with sensation.

I press my right foot flat against the wall – it’s past time I get out of this situation – and push hard, and like you, I don’t push directly outward, instead I push sideways, shifting my hips in the same direction as well, aiming to turn us enough so that the backs of your knees jam against the bench and force you backwards onto it…

Chloe

I have had lovers. “Soulmates”. Loves at first sight. I have stayed up nights, days, fucking someone so hard that the next day we can barely walk. And though all of that has its uses and all of them were exciting for a time. This. THIS. This is what I want. This is what I need. To hate you. To wallow in jealousy, and sink into competition with you so deep that I am blind to all else in the world.

To obsess about my body and yours. To test tits, clits, lips, and tongues until we are both too exhausted to move. In fact if you ever softened. Ever gave in, and asked me to love you, I would spend every moment thereafter and every breath I have left in my chest pushing you back into what we have now.

Fuck falling in love. Fuck holding hands and gently brushing each others hair. Our connection is deeper. Harder. And until you put me in the ground, will laaaaaaaaaast.

Those are the thoughts I try to focus on, as each of us suffers there. Your tits pinched between mine, and bulging out. Our once fused and glaring eyes closed as we try to endure. Not just the aching in our compressed and tortured tits, but also the touch of our tongues and then our open mouths hanging, lingering, and begging us to kiss.

A distraction shared that you use to your advantage as you plant your foot, drive off the wall, and spin us. Not across the wall, which disappears, but in front of the bench. The seat of which catches the back of my legs, forcing me to fall onto it,Your grip and mine keeping hold just long enough for you to drop onto me, into my lap. Your juicy thicc Asian thighs straddling mine, and bending into a kneel, as your heavy tits hamer down on mine. Cupping around my chin, as finally I threatened kiss abates, Our mouths closing and foreheads sealing together as you look down into my eyes and I look up into yours.

“Your weak … Asian … tits will never, OH GOD.” I try to taunt you in our closeness, but just as I do, you punish me with your new advantaged placement.

Emily

Another flurry of movement, drops of sweat spraying off colliding bodies and whipping hair. This is how a rivalry is born – Sudden movements followed by periods of testing – both physically and mentally. And this is what I want. I’ve had friends comment on how my relationships never last, despite me being as hot as I am, girls never seem to last for me. What they don’t know, what they can’t know… and what you clearly know, since you’re feeling the same way, the proof in every motion you make against me… is that what I want is darker. I don’t want a lover, a soulmate, someone to share my life with.

No.

I want a rival. Someone who’s very existence is a challenge, an affront, a violation of every opinion I have about myself and my body. Someone who will always be there to try and prove themselves better, no matter the context.

We end up on the bench, me straddling you, and now it’s my tits on top, and yours straining under the pressure. You have to look up in order to meet my eyes, and I can see you HATE it with every fiber of your being… and just that knowledge makes me shudder inside, and make my smile wider…

My hands slide up your back and take two handfuls of your dark hair, and as I lift my tits off yours temporarily, I pull hard enough to arch your back…. and as you offer your tits to me, albeit involuntarily… I take the opportunity, and drive my tits down into yours as hard as I can, a groan escaping my mouth at the impact….

“Unnghh!… My Asian tits… will WHAT, bitch?!”…

Chloe

It is part of it. The struggle. The pendulum swinging back and forth. A consequence of two women of equal skill, fire, and shape being at odds. Part of what makes us want this. Suffering in the others grasp, and then inflicting that same suffering back on our rival.

And though it is all of that, when you grab my hair, bend my neck pain painfully, and then look down into my face, it is a look of hate. Of anger. Of jealousy and rage. And I can see it, through my slivered eyes how much you love it. A smirk brimming on the edge of a smile that disappears as you lean back and then smash your body and tits into mine.

Compressing my tits painfully and making me lose track of my boast, just before you seize tight around me, and pull my face forward into the spilling over center of your tits. Asking me what I was saying, as you both at once crush down on my breasts and smother me.

My angry words of response coming out muffled by flesh and chest bone, until finally they stop, and you once more yank my hair and bend my neck back harshly.

“FUCKING BITCH! YOU’LL REGR–!” Once more I try to taunt you, and again you interrupt me with PAIN.

Emily

This. This is why I fight like this. It’s worth those times when I end up with crushed tits, or smothered out, when I have to admit that someone else is the better woman, even if only temporary. As excruciating as those times are, times like this make it all worth it.

When I’m looking down at a rival, seeing her hate. Hearing her bitter trash talk. And then cutting it off mid-sentence by crashing my tits down on hers, and pulling her face into my cleavage.

It’s just delicious. There’s nothing else like it anywhere in life.

And when it’s you I’m doing it to…. God. Even now, in this, our first altercation, I can already tell you’re head and shoulders above any other bitch I’ve fought. We’re just perfect rivals, and I’ll take occasionally having to lose to you when being on top feels So. Fucking. Good.

“I’ll regret WHAT, slut?! Huh?!”… Crashing my tits down on yours again before fisting my hands in your hair and pulling your face into my cleavage again… and this time not just to taunt, this time it’s absolutely an attempt to put you out, smother you in my chest, and prove to both of us just who’s better…

Chloe

I am so mad that I am trembling. So frustrated that you have control that I am screaming into your sweaty tits as you once again pull me into them. I am so helpless as your sexy flesh seals off my mouth and nose from the air. So pathetic, as you seize control of this moment and our battle.

God, I mean, you’re sitting in my fucking lap like my girlfriend or something. Your voice dripping with a fake care and dismissive empathy. Trash talking me so hard that I can feel my soul being branded by this battle and you.

I will NEVER forgive you for this. Never forget this moment of humiliation. No, it will stick with me for years, compelling me to call you, text you, and finger myself to the very memory until we are able to fight once again.

So enraged am I, that rather than try and find some quick, safe escape first, I instead reach my hands for your ass, dig my nails in, and then drive forward into you. Not in a tackle, but in an attempt to stand up. I hear you speak. Feel you press back against me, even as your tits cut off my air. But in my built up frustration and adrenaline, I find a way to get to my feet, at least in part, before your struggling and opposing force causes me to stumble. To turn. And then to fall. Dropping you in a thud on your back on the sauna’s seat, not with force, as I held onto you tightly, just as you did to me. Your legs spreading as I crash down atop you. Your grip on my hair doing little to stop our bodies from realigning and our tits to compress as once more we are face to face, and suddenly, hard nipple to hard nipple. Each meeting at their center and fighting to invert the other while we growl and curse

“Regret existing, cunt!” I hiss in your face.

Emily

Your screaming into my tits sets my skin to vibrating, a sensation that buzzes through my brain, sending thought processes jangling and leaving me running on autopilot as I aim to smother you right there in the sauna – still a delighful feeling, but it means I’m slow to react when you start to respond.

You push up to your feet, and I stutter in surprise.. “Wha..what are you?”… and press your face harder into my tits, which at least saps your energy enough to not get up fully…. but you turn, and stumble, and plant my ass on the bench… not hard enough for me to gasp out, but you come down with it, and a few seconds later I’m lying on the bench on my back, with your body pressed full length against mine… tits on tits, stomach on stomach, hips on hips, legs tangled together.

It feels fucking amazing, like our bodies are meant to fit together, two identical forms tangled in a state of fury, arousal, jealousy and rage.

Our nipples press together firmly, and now our tits are pressing into each other head on, aiming to compress and invert…. your advantage in gravity somewhat countered by my abuse of your chest just seconds earlier. Our foreheads pressed together, my hands stay fisted in your hair as I snarl up in your face… “Fuck… you…. you Jewish fucking CUNT!”….

Chloe

Before we were rolling shoulders so that we could dodge and duck — strike and parry. But now, with my body collapsing down on yours, all of that ends. As our bodies seem to latch on to each other and then fuse together. Our sweat-drenched naked bodies completely aligned and at war. Well, almost completely. As though our legs coil, tummies press, tits flatten, nipples drive, and foreheads push. I fight to keep my pubic mound from meeting yours.

Knowing it would you, me, and us. But that effort, even as I grab your hair and curse at you, leaves make only half-present, “I’ll ruin you… You Asian bitch…. First your tits….” I begin, as we pull closer, compressing our already aching tits even more. “Then your lips….” I continue, while leaning further in. Our mouths once more nearing as our words turn to sprays of saliva that softly hit and warm the others face. “Then your….”

As I go to finish my taunt, I feel your legs struggle to get free of mine. To unbind themselves from our deep coil. It even further degrades my focus, as I look back, to try and counter your attempts. But with every pull and push — lift and flex, our mounds and the pussies at their center get closer and closer to making contact. Just as our nipples slowly sink into each other and our chests at an equal rate.“Fuck…. I mutter, as a moment of dual-sided pleasure seems to near.

Emily

In some small part of my mind, I’m not actually sure where my body starts and yours begins. The heat, the sweat, the pressure, the burgeoning pain and the small shocks of pleasure as our tits, nipples, and the rest of our bodies writhe on the hot bench.

Our lips are almost brushing as we grip each others hair, our breasts compressing more and more firmly, our hips still not touching, we’re both trying to avoid that… but it seems to be almost inexorable as we feel each other warm breaths on our lips and our bitching gets quieter and more intense…

we’re coming towards the endgame now, neither of us can take too much more of this before either losing control or submitting or blacking out… but I’m not prepared to just take it from you on top of me… but there’s only really one option… and it’s a nuclear one… one I wouldn’t necessarily choose… but against you, I think it’s the only way.

So as our legs struggle, I take a firmer grip of your hair, and lunge to roll us to the left… towards the edge of the bench… so I can roll us off the bench and fall towards the floor, hopefully with me on top when we impact the floorboards… “Fuck…. you…. Chloe…. ” I hiss as we roll….

Chloe

Focused on not giving you the satisfaction of being the first to give into desire, or finding out which of us would wilt if suddenly my pussy and yours met in the heat and the passion of this moment, I do not safeguard my mount atop you. Leaving you to focus all of your energy to try and get me off of you. I assume that attempt will come when you free your legs, but instead, as you keep me distracted with that belief, you grab my hair and drive into me. Pulling us into an up and over roll, off the edge of the bench and to the Sauna’s floor hard.

Your hissed curses ringing in my ears as we fall, trying desperately to cling to each other and not let the other free. But when we collide with the ground, not parallel with the bench but at an opposing angle, those hopes — those dreams shatter with a heavy thud. Our grips on each other loosening as we each roll apart. Sweaty. Hot. Tired. Exhausted already. Our tits aching and telling us to stop.

And maybe we would with any other rival. Any other woman. Maybe we’d lay there. Resting. Muttering some apology and then laughing about our prides and tempers. But not us. Not now or ever.

No, instead we scramble as soon as the webs clear. Scurry as soon as the birdies stop floating around our head. Making it back to our knees, just as I reach out to pull your body and tits back into mine. Hungry for more. For you. For an answer. The tits of an Asian vs. those of a Jew.

Emily

This is the endgame now.

You know it.

I know it.

We’re both tired, hurting, breathing hard, chests heaving as we blink the sweat out of our eyes, feeling it streak down over our chests, stomachs, asses.

But despite that – despite the aching in our limbs and the slowly growing fuzzines in our thoughts from both the fight and the still hot and humid atmosphere in the sauna – despite that, we both lunge up and towards each other as fast as we can, knowing that there isn’t much left in either of us, and the smallest mistake could settle this.

You reach for me, sliding your hands over your hips as you pull me towards you, and instead of resisting, I push forwards off my knees and jam into you hard, aiming my tits right at yous in an attempt to catch you by surprise with the speed of my advance, my arms sliding between yours and your sides as I wrap them around you and pull you into my hard, our tits compressing sharply as I hug you against me – on the surface loving, but we both know it’s anhing but…

“Jewish… whore…” I pant in your ear, not able to shout any louder at the moment…

Chloe

Not in my workouts. Not at work. Not anywhere in my life do I spend anywhere this much energy. And yet here, now, with you, I am willing to spend it all. Every last drop, just to see the look in your eyes when I have beaten your breasts with my own.

So, though I am tired. Though I am hurting and endlessly turned on, I drag myself from the floor and reach for you even after a heavy impact. My stationary and planted knees making your response to that reach, your chest-first dive, brutally effective. Not only because it is yet another slam of your tits into mine, but also because it pushes be back. Not from bottom to top, but just the latter. My once kneeling body collapsing back onto my ass, just in front of the sauna bench.

Your legs straddling my thighs as my legs straighten out beneath you and your arms sneaking between my back and the bench that would otherwise press into my back.

“Asian bitch!” I mutter desperately, and half-winded as you settle into my lap. The true weakness of my position only then beginning to dawn on me.

Emily

Finally, FINALLY I have you in a position to do some work. For most of this fight we’ve either been evenly matched, or you’ve been on top, but now…. now I have the advantage in position, and if I have my way, this is where we’ll end this altercation…

So despite my tiredness, and the heaviness starting to seep into my limbs, I settle myself on your lap, pinning you down between my nude body and the floor/bench, the wood of both warm against our skin.

My arms tighten around you, pulling us harder together, the bench biting lightly at my arms as I shift a little and tangle my fingers in your hair, pulling your head back enough to arch your back… thus raising your tits and letting me find the best angles to power my breasts into yours…

Aiming to slowly, bitchily grind my tits into yours, maybe bend your nipples with mine, all the while locking eyes with you, pressing our foreheads together, breathing in your face…

“Fuck you, Chloe…. fuck you….”

Chloe

I have never seen you outside of this gym. Never had a conversation with you that did not involve a whispered bitching repartee. Never met your boyfriend or parents – friends or coworkers. And yet as we sink into this placement on the sauna floor, I hate you.

I hate you more than I can even fathom. More than I can describe with words, they being such transient and ethereal things. Failing in the heat of the passion with which I despise you.

The confident bend to your lips that tells me you think you have me dead to rights. The glimmer in your tired eyes that betrays how close you think you are to victory. The way that despite all of that and so much more, I still want you so bad I can taste it.

Even as you seal your forehead to mine and then smash your tits into mine before grinding them together. Knowing I can’t draw back to gain any momentum of my own.

My lips parting to groan in pain. My eyes watering in the same. “Fuck…. You…. Emily…. This isn’t over.” I hiss back in your face, refusing to break eye contact, even as we battle for the warm, steam-filled air between us.

Emily

I can see the pain in your gaze as we glare at each other… see the wince every time my tits crash into yours, or my steel hard nipples find a particularly sensitive spot in your breasts, and it’s fucking delicious. Despite us having barely talked in our encounters before now, watching you in pain and defiant is absolutely one of my favourite things.

And yet.

I can see your hate underneath the pain. That fire in your eyes that the tears can’t conceal… and my own hatred feeds on it, builds on it, until it’s just as visible in my own gaze.

Anyone else, I might be tempted to ease up on my attacks… but you? Never.

And so I keep the pressure of my tits on yours as hard as I can, keeping your body pressed against mine, my ass almost grinding on your hips as I move my back and shoulders to maximise the pain and damage I can do with my breasts.

My lips almost touching yours as we hiss our insults… “Give…up… Chloe…. Bitch….”

Chloe

I want to defy you. To resist you. Shifting my upper body, to drag my tits across yours. Even though every such effort hurts me more than you. Given your position and how completely I am trapped.

Still I try. Weakly. Glaring at you through dripping tears, while I try to draw back my legs, and find some base from which I can try and escape this pin.

But until then – until I have found that foundation from which to try, I suffer. It seeming that through our nearly pressing lips, you are draining my fire. My fight. My energy and all else.

“Never…. Slut….” I mutter back as the tips of our noses brush, and the red-hot heat of your hate for me seems to quicken my tears, and cruelly make me want you even more.

Emily

Even in this position, you fight back… dragging your tits across mine, glaring back, your claws still digging into my hips. If I didn’t hate you so much, I might almost respect your defiance.

But I do hate you that much. That much and more, in fact. So all your defiance makes me want to do is absolutely destroy you. To hear you scream. To watch you writhe under me.

“You asked… for it…. whore..”… I breath into your mouth, our lips actually brushing now… and I pull your hair that little bit harder, arching your back some more…. so that now I can drive my tits right into the underside of yours, my nipples slamming into your underboob.. and although doing this at this point in the fight hurts… I’m sure it’ll hurt you more…

Chloe

I am so poorly positioned that my effort to reposition my legs, especially with how weak I am, seems to move at a snail’s pace. Thighs turning, knees bending, and calves pulling in as I breathe in your threats. Desire, hate, and obsession keeping us close. So close that anyone who might see us would think we are locked deep in a kiss.

And though this moment is more intimate than any I can remember, it is not love or lust that leaves our lips brushing and tongues readied to attack. No, it is the core of this battle. Feminine jealousy and a need to prove our superiority on the most sacred of battlefields that make us want it. Need it.

The same gravity that pushes me to fight past pain and exhaustion – near hopelessness and oppressive heat. Even as you pull back and then crash your tits into the underside of mine.

Once and again. Making me groan through muttered curses and cries of pain. As with every passing second I appear to be more and more under your control.

Until finally, on another pullback amongst so many – one you intend to use to finish me, I find it. The position. The foundation. The confidence for one final attempt to steal victory from your hands. And so I surge into you, finding a way to plant my feet and almost tackle you back to the sauna floor.

And though in the aftermath I remove you from my lap, and take you down to the wood panels, after a roll or three, I am on my back. You above me. Pressed to me. Still tit to tit and most cruelly, lip to lip. Your hands pinning my wrists to the floor as my last hopes disappear.

Emily

A flurry of activity.

That last burst of energy.

Two bodies rolling over the floor.

And at the end of it… I’m on top, still glaring down at you, pinning your wrists to the sauna floor… and I can see the despair in your eyes as you realise that your last effort to turn the tables has failed.

And honestly, if you’d managed to get on top… I think I would have looked the same. And it’s that realisation that spurs me on, that gives me that special kind of energy only gained through hatred, through denial, through sheer bloodyminded viciousness.

And without a word, I lift my chest off yours, pause a second… and then drop it down onto yours.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Each time feeling the impact of my tits on yours.

Each time grimacing through the pain I’m inflicting on myself.

And each time drinking in the sight of your face as my breasts crash down into yours without you being able to defend yourself.

Chloe

It’s too late now. I am too tired. My breasts are too far gone. Aching. Stinging, Swelling with bruising and aching, not with pride. In fact with your every lift and slam, I feel my nipples not only bend, but on direct hits invert. Taking yours in, like a cock sliding deep into a hungry pussy.

Each element of that suffering is humiliating. Pride-shattering. And though that is true, I stop fighting. My arms and hands not fighting to get away from yours or off the wooden floor. Instead, I just lay. Fighting back tears, even as I continue to glare up into your eyes.

Ready to give in. To concede defeat, but wanting – waiting – and needing you to ask for it one last time.

Emily

I can feel your resistance crumble along with your tits.. you still glare up at me, but your arms no longer struggle against mine, your legs not tangling… you’re lying there and taking it.

So I pause… shift your arms until your wrists are crossed above your head, letting my hold them down with just one hand… and with my free hand I curl my fingers round your throat , thumb on your chin as I angle your face so that we’re staring, eye to eye and nose to nose. My body almost hunched over yours now, not hammering our tits together…. more sat over my prey… my spoils…

“So…. are you done, bitch?”… My voice breathy and harsh in the sudden silence, and yet loud enough to echo around us… both of us knowing, somewhere deep inside us, that this moment right here, whilst the end of this fight, is only the start of a war…

Chloe

I don’t want to answer you, even though I know I am finished. My pride pushing me to try and turn my head and look away from you, but your strong hand and pressing thumb keep me from breaking our gaze.

And so forced to look up at you so you can see the weakness in my eyes, I give you a half submission. One I want you to let me get away with, though I would NEVER let you do the same.

“You–you got … lUUuUuUucky, bitch….” As hopping as as weary as my voice sounds, still I try to cling to my pride.

Emily

A corner of my mouth curls upwards in a tired smirk… I know what you’re trying to do, and I. Won’t. Have it.

I tighten my fingers around your throat, leaning in to roll my tits across yours… letting you feel how my breasts push yours around, before lifting up again.

“Who’s tits were best, Chloe? Huh? Who’s, bitch?” I hiss quietly, no need to shout now and maybe let someone interrupt us… the venom in my voice clearly audible despite the reduced volume…

Chloe

If it was just you atop me. Sitting there, glaring and gripping. I could stand it and endure. Cling to my less than full submission and give you as little as possible.

But instead, as your fingers tighten into a choke, you lean in, down, and drag your tits across mine. My poor, battered, beaten, and aching breasts. A reminder of why I am below and you are above that makes my head tilt back, my lips part, and then lips let go of tiny, leaping whimpers. All as you ask whose tits were better.

In truth it is an olive branch. A question not aimed at ever, but in this contest. An acknowledgement that this battle could have gone either way. An admission that you want more of this just as badly as I do.

But it is not that small shred of selfish mercy that sways me. Instead it is the pain your dragging breasts cause that makes me mutter out weakly. “Yours….”

A single word, but one that shatters me just to give.

Emily

My smile widens at your admission, as quiet and reluctant as it was, and my grip on your throat loosens as my hand moves to your hair, digging in at the back of your head.

“That’s right, Chloe…. and when you wake up… remember that, bitch!”… My voice soft, and almost loving, so that what I say doesn’t register at first… and I’m waiting for your eyes to widen in realisation before my hand cups your head, and pulls your face into my waiting cleavage as I lean down on top of you, smothering you out with my superior, victorious tits… my other hand keeping hold of your wrists to stop you from escaping as my body slips down onto yours in the smother…

Chloe

There is no fuel left. No fire. Only the spare hope for a mercy I do not deserve. A release without punishment I would never give you.

Fleeting and foolish though those dreams are, as you yank me up into your perfect, victorious breasts, my face is still wrought with fear. Shock. Dismay. And regret.

Not that I fought you, for I will always fight you. From this day forward. No matter how many times I lose. No matter what this means for me, my life, or us.

But that I did not go left rather than right. That I did not pull, instead of push. Dodge, instead of attack. Regrets that will stay with me until next we tangle.

Swirling in my mind as between your tits, I expire. Your well-earned sweat dripping into my mouth as I scream and struggle pathetically.

Swearing with my last breaths that I will have my revenge. Not just in one encounter, but in MANY.

Emily

Your muffled screams vibrate along my skin, making me shudder lightly in pleasure, your lips rubbing across my breasts as I smother you out.

And slowly, but inexorably, your struggles slow, and slow…. and finally cease, until finally your body is limp against mine.

I free you from my tits and let you sprawl bonelessly on the sauna floor, looking down at you as I straddle your hips.

Tired.

Hurting.

But victorious.

And as I get up and slip out of the sauna door, the one thing I know, beyond any doubt, is this.

This war is NOT over.

The End.

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