Stuck in the Mud
Amber “Little Miss Alpha” vs. Ewa S. from Discord
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Amber “Little Miss Alpha”:
I’ve never been one to think too much. To focus on what’s going on in my life, other than what was right in front of me. It hurt too much. The thinking. The wishing. The hoping things wouldn’t go one way or the other, when they always ended up going exactly that way.
But since I got here, to this stinking cabin, all I’ve done is thought. First about how I was going to live with you. With the girl who had caused me so much strife. The girl who had haunted my every foot step since I was a little girl.
Then, once our fight was over, how I could live knowing you had beaten me. Bested me. And then thrown me off the bed to the floor below. Landing me on cigarette butts and crumpled up beer cans – Cam’s dirty socks and used condoms.
After that, and in the first stinging moment of that humiliation and defeat trailed into the next. The two of us, even in our hateful twisted way, coming to co-exist. Throwing glares and glances. Shaking our asses and exposing our tits for Cam and his friends.
Watching you give him a blow job and please him, while with just the look in your eyes you kept me at bay. Away. Making me just watch you.
Even though you hated it.
Even though you knew I hated it too.
All of it made me think, but not like that night we … we…. I don’t even know what we did, not even now, as Cam snores so loud I feel like I might go deaf.
Though I try to give it a name so then I can cast it away. You’re nothing but a harlot. A slut. A hateful little viper, and yet as I lay here, with my eyes shut, all I can think about is your lips. Your tongue. Your spit. Your body.
Having it on me as we fought. Feeling your bare flesh rub against mine as we struggled.
God, what I wouldn’t give to have that again. Right here and right now. But why? Why do I want THAT.
Why do I want you, when you’ve never been anything but my tormentor.
It’s a question I ask myself as I sit up in the rickety old futon, and then get out of bed. Walking over to the kitchen to make myself something to eat. Something to quiet these thoughts that confuse me so. But as I stand there, in not but a pair of panties, my large breasts hanging naked just above the counter, I fight to get you out of my mind.
Shaking my head. Closing my eyes. Muttering silently to myself about how much I hate you. Assuming, as one would, that everyone else, including you, is asleep.
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Ewa S.:
Everybody knew something was wrong…. Not that they cared anyways… The only thing that mattered to my boss at the strip joint was his bottom line…. And even though my distant stare and constant frown was there, it didn’t seem to turn off the customers…. Only two girls asked me if I was alright… And both were shrugged off by mumbling words about being kicked out and bunking at a ‘friend’s place…
I just wanted to be alone… Away from everyone… Because my mind was on the warm body, sleeping half naked next to me on the futon… The same body that I dreamed of making mine, a long, long time ago…
Back when I was naive… Back when I was gullible… Back when I thought that things would turn out alright eventually, the line my mom fed me every time I cried at her lap as she held a bag of frozen pees to her black eye….
They all lied… Things… never…. turned alright…
Only worse…
Even when we fought… I thought I would feel better if I beat you up… I did…. But you beat me up pretty badly…. And after…. Even though, we hate fucked… Even though my cunt and yours pressed, ground and dueled…. I still felt… worse…. Because that contempt in your eyes was always there…
It hurt me more than I cared to let you know… And I returned fire the only way I knew how… I sucked him… I sucked him good, while locking eyes with you… I don’t know why, but it felt good, temporarily, to flaunt that I had claim to the prize neither of us wanted…
And like always, it felt worse after…. Even when we shared the bed for the first night… Then another… And a week later…. I would toss and turn, only to find myself staring at your eyes, wide open, glaring at me with contempt…. Locking them for moments before one, would roll over and turn her back to the other….
Because that’s what we’ve done… And it worked… Until now…
And tonight, a particularly hot and humid night…. Cam, of course, having the AC run in his room…. With strict instructions for us to crack a window if we’re hot… Or fuck off if we didn’t like it…. I wiggled out of my shirt, it was soaked enough to wringe few ounces of sweat off it… I laid there in my panties…. When suddenly I feel the futon shift and you slip out…
I turn my head, watching you walk into the kitchenette… Slowly, lifting myself up to my elbows, the sheets rolling off my naked tits, staring at your silhouette…
Your tiny waist…. Your big breasts making your profile look surreal… Your curvy ass….
Damn you….
I can hear you muttering… And quietly, I slide my feet off the to the floor, and tip toe towards you… I’m trying to be quiet… To not wake Cam.. But to also, creep up on you….
And I stare at the spoon in your hand, spreading just jelly on a piece of bread…. My lips curl up cruelly, and without you noticing I’m there, I reach and grab your hand… You shudder and turn, and our eyes lock, before my other hand pulls the spoon off your grip and bring it up to my mouth and cockily, I stick my tongue out, and lick the jam off it….
And all my eyes say in that moment… Is… Mine…
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Amber:
There are moment that divide a life. Like high school ending. Before somebody gets married, or after they get divorced.
I thought I had those. When my momma met Earl. Or when she got that call about being sick. Maybe before I got pregnant and dropped out of high school. Or maybe when I lost the baby and laid in a puddle of blood as I waited for someone to find me.
Those moments meant something. They marked something that changed. But none of them seem as bright or as breaking as the moment I reached up for you and then pulled you down to me.
The moment you laid your body atop mine, and we fought.
It didn’t just change something. It changed everything. What I wanted. What I feared. What I hoped. What I dreamed.
But after that flash of lightning and hate crashed down around us, as we wrestled, fought, and fucked in that bed, you’ve been the hunter. The predator. You beat me, and you know it.
And whenever you can. Whenever you feel the urge, which seems to be always, you remind me that you beat me. Not with words or threats, but with those damn eyes of yours. I can read it. In an instant. In a flash. What you’re saying. What you’re telling me. And so when I startle, jump, and then turn, and you take that spoon from me, I know.
You’re imposing your will on me.
Claiming that jam for yourself. Maybe because you want it, but more importantly, because I do. At that very second I feel a wave of anger, frustration, and shame wash over me. A urge to hit you. Slap you. Tackle you and make you regret everything you’ve done to me since that fight.
But…. But….
Even though I want to do all of that so bad, I can’t help but freeze as you glower at me. Not because I’m afraid of you, but instead because I fear what fighting you again would mean. For me. For you. For us.
So I just remain there in front of you, as you finish your lick and lower than spoon. The two of us standing in our panties as our heavy breasts gently brush between us. Nipples hardening. Pulses racing. The wet, moist air of the trailer coating our skins with sweat, giving us a nice sheen.
Until finally, after what feels like an eternity to us, but was in truth only seconds, I turn and walk away from you. Out the squeaky front door of the trailer and into the rain. Not expecting you to follow me. Knowing what will happen if you do.
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Ewa:
My teeth clench…. And you can see them… Through the Cheshire grin on my face….. A vicious smirk, as I stare at you, letting the spoon, thick with my saliva, drop on the slice of stale bread….
I took your jam, cunt… Now it’s MINE…
And if you want to eat that moldy bun, go ahead… But you’ll fucking TASTE me…
Gawd, it feels good….
This thrill… Of being mean… Being wicked… Being… Dominant.. Over you… It’s the first moment of delight I’ve had… Since I pinned you on your back…. Since I outclawed, outbit, out wrestled, and OUTFUCKED you on that futon…. It was a fleeting moment of joy… That brought weeks of emptiness and angst…
But ah, this high… It’s all I can cling to… It’s all I have… So I embrace it… I hold it tight…. Not giving a fuck about the crash that will follow… Frozen, staring at you.. Feeling your tits expanding and pressing firmer into mine, before collapsing, leaving only your stiff pink nipples pressing into my naked tits… With every breath….
Come on… Hit me.. Fucking.. HIT ME…
I want to scream it, but Cam is in the other room… I want to grab your hair and screech it down your throat… But I don’t need to.. You know it…
And then…. You do the worst thing ever… Worse than headbutting me in the nose.. Worse than driving your knee up between my legs.. Worse than jamming your claws into my eyes…
You turn your back to me… And walk away…
Leaving me fuming.. Staring… At your naked back, your tattooed flesh… Your thick, firm buttocks in the tiny thong of yours…. Grabbing the pack of cigarettes off the counter and pulling one out along with the lighter and stepping out…
“No….” — I whisper to myself… A voice that even I can barely hear…. And without thinking, grabbing a robe or even slipping my feet in my sandals, I chase after you… Opening the trailer door and jumping off the steps… My feet feeling the light splash of mud… Oh right, it rained all night…. My head turns like a maniac…. I’m half naked in the open…. And I don’t care…
Because there is again, that side-profile silheoutte of you… Your back pressed to the side of the trailer… One leg bent, foot pressed to it…. One arm wrapped around your waist… Cradling your massive tits up… As if they need the support… The other, lighting the cigarette…
And with a furious growl I chase after you…. But this time, you can hear the wet slaps of my feet… And you look up.. Your eyes narrowed.. The scowl on your face worthy of sending any predator running with its tail tucked between my legs…
All except me… Because I too.. Know what will fucking happen… Not just that.. I NEED it…
And like I did to your spoon, I reach up to the cigarette and snatch it from your lips and press it to mine, taking a deep hit on it, then.. I blow the smoke in your face….
You can’t fucking run from me…. I will always hound you… I will always take EVERYTHING you have… Just like you did to me.. All my fucking life…..
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Amber:
It’s been raining for the past day. On and off again. Heavy and light. Making the mud outside Cam’s trailer ooze and seep with every step. Between my toes. Up to my ankles, with some steps.
But by the time I make it to the back of Cam’s rusty trailer, the rain has stopped. Only a few scattered droplets making their way down my un-held tits. My hands fumbling to carry my last cigarette to my trembling lips.
I can’t, I think to myself. We can’t. Not now. Not with Cam home. You fucking bitch. God, you couldn’t just let me ha–but then I hear it. The door to the trailer swing back open. The springs of it screeching and shrieking again, just before it should have banged close.
Then there are those wet splatter splashes of your feet. Stomping after me. Both of us safe in the knowledge that the nearest neighbor is at least a mile or two up road. The only other person in the distance having seen us both naked and having cum on our tits.
But even though there ain’t nothing to worry about, when it comes to being caught looking like this. Without a top or bottom. Without a bra or much else. You are reason enough.
You coming after me angry. Insistent. Demanding something from me. First my gaze as you sucked Cam’s dick. Then that jam. And now the cigarette hanging from my lips as you yank it away from me, and then take a petty, half-effort pull. Blowing the smoke thereafter in my face, so that in the moonlight, it’s white billowing smoke creates a cloud around me at first, and then us, as you toss the cig to the mud below and step into me. Pressing your breasts to mine and pinning me, again with less effort than you could, against the trailer’s rusty metal wall.
There we stare, as the trailer’s single light hangs and swings above us in the wind.
There we glare.
Face to face and eye to eye.
Again you want something from me. Needing something from the girl you already fought, fucked, and beat.
On the couch, as you sucked and licked at Cam’s cock I didn’t give it to you. Or in the kitchen when you stole a long lap of that jam. But here. Now. As in the moonlight, you dare me, I let go of the dam.
My hands lifting and grabbing two tight handfuls of your hair. Making sure each is firm. Each is painful, even before I even start pulling.
“Bitch…. You’ve been begging for this ass kicking.” I growl at you as I remain pressed between you and the trailer. My words ending before I take an inhale that brings with it a drag of smoke. The same, on my exhale, pulled into your lips and lungs, as you go to hiss back at me.
Our perfect bodies. Our gorgeous forms settling together in the light of the moon, that dang light, and the winds of fate that blow around us.
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Ewa:
Yes… Yes.. I’ve been begging for it….
But not an ass kicking…
I’ve been begging for.. SOMETHING.. ANYTHING from you, for the last 15 years… A friendship…. A confidants… A lover….
And you left me with nothing to beg for… But an enemy…
A nemesis… For life…
And I’m just alright with that….. So long I get to slam my breasts into yours, and once more, feel the glands compress, the masses of flesh bulge and mushroom…. The nipples burrow… Because if that’s what I need to get your attention, so be it….
Like a petulant, ignored, attention-starved child… I am satisfied by turning the old yanking-the-pigtails of children, into full on, hellacious, scalping of two felines….
And finally, you respond.. Finally, you react… Your arms slipping up, and your biceps grouping the bulging side-boob flesh, compacting our two pairs in and forcing them to push into each other more… Your fingers gripping my hair and YANKING it roughly down..
I yelp as my head jerks back… My chin lifts… Stumbling back as you push off the trailer wall, but only in doing so, giving me the room to wrap my own arms around you, and grabbing your hair back… My left hand, sinking into the back of your head, my nails, scraping at your scalp… While my right paw, grabs the ends of your hair… Snarling right back into your face, as I jerk your own head…
“Oh yeah…. Come on then cunt… Try it… And see what happens…”
Snarling we both stumble in the mud on our feet… Our muscles tensed, jerking the other around…. I pull violently to the side to stop your advancing momentum.. We spin twice… But you plant your feet and stop it, pushing me back two more steps… I grimace, and lift my right leg, pushing my thigh up, pressing it against your panties, and with my mud-caked heel, I press against your left shin, trying to bend your knee and take your leg out, but you side step, losing your momentum again, but not falling, sending us stumbling, still clenched, further away from the trailer…. Grimacing and straining…
Yes… Yes… THIS…. This lethal drug…. This agonizing thrill…. I’m alive.. I’m fucking alive… So long I get to HURT you…
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Amber:
You have been woven into so many moments of my life. Every school. Every class. Every struggle. Every triumph. Every defeat – especially the latest.
But even with all of that being true, I am still learning you. Still trying to figure out what makes you tick and what makes tok.
Every moment of the last week a test, starting the moment after you rolled off of me. You could have gotten rid of me. Could have gotten up, grabbed me by the hair, and thrown me out the front door of Cam’s trailer. You knew I wouldn’t have resisted you. Knew I wouldn’t have begged. I would have gone. Silently. Walked back down that road that brought me here, a shattered, hopeless mess. But you let me stay.
Doing nothing more than placing me in the side-by-side lives we were already destined for. Telling me to cook, and then watching me as I did so. Neither of us getting our clothes back until moments before Cam came home.
Then you kept me close. Making sure, when we got home from work, I didn’t leave. Finding ways, some subtle and some not, to keep me home and next to you. Not so we could talk, because we didn’t do any of that. But instead so we could just exist. In that tension. In that angst. In the hatred we both share.
A hatred that flashes with our bared fangs and in lightning bolts that crash down to earth in the forest at the edge of the property as we struggle and strain once more. Clinging to each other in desperation as we stumble, wrench, and push.
Our breasts coming together in heavy, wet slaps with every unintended desperation. Rigid nipples stabbing into each other with every surge of effort that brings us together. Grunts leaving our lips. Gasps and groans, as we fight our way out and away from the trailer. Not clean, but clumsy. Not collected, but careening in the mud. Pulling at each other’s hair. Kicking at each others with mud-covered heels.
Until in one, simultaneous strain from both of us, we lift off the ground and then after a small travel, drop to our knees in the mud.
“Fuck you for taking so much pleasure in hurting me, you CUNT!” I hiss, as on our knees, and in not more than out panties, we continue as we had. Pulling at each others hair as we smash our gorgeous tits together. In slams, slaps, thuds, and parries.
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Ewa:
At least, one of us had triumphs in her life growing up…..
Only one…
I, was mired in misery… Right and left… And while we both had living hells at home… At least you had your moments at school… WIth the fake facade, that fooled even me… The perfect pure angel, because apart from a halo, you looked like one….
But ah, where are they now… The priests at church… The teachers from school… The fawning parents from the better-adjusted homes… To see you now… For your truth….
The reality that I managed to bring out….
The almost naked…. Butt-wiggling…. Tit thrusting… Tattooed WHORE, fighting me like two pigs in the mud….
Come out Amber… Come out, and play with me… Come out… And find the place you belong…. Just here…
“NNGGRARRRGHHH!!”
I growl as after minutes of winding each other around, half-slipping and falling, we finally collapse to our knees…. Tears running down our cheeks…. And yet, our grips on hair never faltering… Nails only burrowing deeper into the other’s scalps….
You snarl at me and then THRUST your chest into my own..
“OMMPHHH!!”
I’m taken by surprise.. Rattled, as you rear and do it again…
“UUUNGHHH!!”
The third though, I expect, and my own chest flies forwards to meet yours and we both GRUNT, spittle flying and landing on tear-and sweat soaked cheeks….
“No, fuck YOU for thinking you are better than me, WHORE!”
Our arms begin to violently stretch, triceps stretching, then yanking the other in, bulging our biceps as we HAMMER our chests together… Time, and again, and again….
A half dozen times… Then a dozen… And my eyes begin to water…. Hair grips making our necks wringe, but we continue on it, until after another dozen, my right hand falls off your hair and grabs your left shoulder… Nails digging in, yelping as I try to keep you at bay…
But your left arm swings down, your elbow shoving my forearm away, grabbing me and PULLING me in for two more slams that make me GRUNT and yelp….
And with the third, I fall back, my body splashing into the mud… Groaning and clutching my chest…
I see you panting on your knees, then, you push forwards, trying to throw yourself on me, but I bend my legs and pull them to my chest, planting a muddy foot on your stomach, and the other on your left tit I THRUST hard, sending you flying back to land on the mud… Panting…
“Cunt….. I fucking.. HATE YOU…” — Pant as I roll to my side on my right elbow, my left arm still craddling my aching tits….
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Amber:
Two women. Two enemies. Two star-crossed souls caged in a shared life they can’t stand. Lashing out at each other with decades of welled up despair, regret, and trauma-born defiance. Not with words, like other women might. Or with fists thrown in some bar.
But instead like hellcats. Fingers laced deep in each other’s hair in a beautiful nightmare of dance in the mud. Throwing, pushing, pulling, and dragging each other to our knees, until there, we crash.
Like waves at sea. Like trains on the same track.
Breast to breast.
Again and again.
Without mercy. Without thought of risk or reward. Just wanting, more than anything in the world, to knock the other down. Not so we can then relent and walk away. But so that we can lunge, tackle, and torment once again.
But there in that madness, after a series of collisions that leave us breathless, breast-obsessed, and battered, we eventually find ourselves pulled apart. By momentum and circumstance – angle and aim. But I won’t have it. Not now. Not Ever. You are NEVER getting away from me, in this life or the last. I see that now. I know that now. This is my fate. My future. My EVERYTHING. Fighting you. Hurting you. PUNISHING you for the life I’d led because of you, and the life I could have had in the same.
And so I stand and charge, diving atop you to try to get back to that destiny. But when I do, you go small. Shrinking into a ball, so you can roll back, bury your foot in my stomach and flip me over your head and past you, into the mud with an audible wet splash.
There we lay. Apart and breathing. Disconnected and desperate in every possible way.
The rain that had receded from a pour to a drizzle and then less, beginning anew. Coming down in sheets around and on top of us, as in the mud we linger and languish. Our tits bruised, aching, and sore. Our bodies drained by the wild, passionate, hateful maelstrom we have set ourselves to.
Lightning striking again in the distance, and then once more, only a few trees away. And as it cracks and lights the sky around us, you lift yourself from the mud. Telling me how much you hate me.
The words should make me upset. They should hurt me. But instead I savor them. My lips, below my glaring eyes, curling into a malicious grin. Even as you charge. Even as you dive. Even as you land atop me in a muddy crash of two broken women.
In the aftermath of that splatter of flesh and filth, I reach for you. Trying to grab you to throw you off. But with your momentum I fall to my back. The length of my upper back pressing into the med as I roll back.
My palms catching on yours as you scrabble forward and up my body. As you do I squirm, our hands clasp hard together, as your knees cross my biceps, and pin me down. On the ground. In the mud. Lightning flashing again as you glare down on me, and we each exert every ounce of focus and strength. You to keep your throne atop my upper chest, and me to escape.
“GET OFF ME YOU FUCKING SLUT!” I rage at you. Screaming out in the night, certain that the sound of the rain and the storm will keep Cam from waking. If he would even care.
Each of us with a menace in our eyes that would get us locked away in some asylum, if anyone were to see. If anyone to were to know what we felt for each other. What was happening between us. And how deeply we had each committed to this struggle. This battle. This war.
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Ewa:
“UUGHHH!!” — **SMACKK**
“AARRRGGHHH!”” — **SMACKK**
“GAWDDD!” — **SMACKK**
“FUCKKK!” — **SMACKK**
“YOUUUU!” — **SMACKK**
Time and again, our bodies smash and batter into each other…. Chest to Chest…. Our bodies, barely standing, toes digging into the mud for its treacherous footing…. Our bare buttocks clenched, quivering and shaking with every chest-lead impact, as we violently interlock fingers, pushing the other away only to pull her in…
And for what??
This DUMP we live in?? — This rent-free spot on a pull-out sofabed, cooking, cleaning, and serving a worthless loser, who shouldn’t even dream of having girls that look like us glance his way… But there is no justice in this world…. One designed to make women lose all sense of self-esteem, to not know their worth and value… And accept this injustice…
One that has trained us to hate and fight each other, to keep the status quo… To batter our bodies and chests together until we scream from the agony and collapse back… Clutching our chests in pain….
My eyes filled with tears…. No.. Fuck… This.. Shouldn’t.. Be… I’m the huntress.. I’m the one chasing you down.. Stalking… How come you stood up to me.. How come your tits matched up to mine… Blow for blow…. I’ll… Hurt you… I’ll fucking… Hurt you.. Bitch…
I try to get up but you’re on me… I coil and roll away, caking my back, from head to ass in mud as I get away then thrust into you, sending you falling back… And with a lunge, I throw my naked body on yours… Landing on your belly…. Pussy smacking into your navel…. And I bunny hop forwards, pinning your arms under my biceps… My thighs forcing your tits together, and there isn’t room for them, as they bulge and ooze, pushing towards your chin… Your pretty face raging, screaming at me to get off you…
“I’LL GET OFF ALRIGHT…. BEATING YOUR FUCKING ASS!!!” — I scream as I bring my arms up in the air, and start windmill SLAPPING you…. Screeching as I send my palms… My palms only… I could curl my fingers and scratch your pretty face…. I could ball them into fists and pound your face into minced meat… But I don’t… I just want to see your pretty angel-cheeks red….. I want to see you weep.. And afterall, slaps are the LOUDEST attack… And fuck me if I am not twitching in delight at the sounds of it….
Your arms bend and flail, trying to cover up your face.. Your chin tucks in, and it gets harder to land my hits… And I get greedy…. Pushing my knees harder on your biceps, I bunny hop a third time, this time, my small buttocks landing on your breasts, and I feel my insecurity striking suddenly…
Your fucking tits are bigger than my buttocks…. You curvy perfect slut…. My fingers, reaching down into blonde hair, as the skies above us flash and thunder roars in the distance…. PULLING your face up further, and shoving your mouth into my slick, sodden sex….
“GO ON BITCH… GO ON… .GET ME OFF…. ISN’T THAT WHAT YOU FUCKING WANTED???”
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Amber:
There are women who have become so much – some doctors, some scientists, some engineers, some CEO’s! And yet here we are.
Two bitches.
Two sluts.
Two worthless pieces of flesh, in our own eyes, and in the eyes of so many.
And instead of bonding over that lackness. And joining hands together climb out of the proverbial mud, we wallow in it. Wrestle in it.
It should make me ashamed. It should make me hate myself and this entire fucking world – not to mention you…. But instead, my dark mind twists and coils around the idea, just as our bodies do the same around each other.
First as we, palm to palm slam together tit to tit. Again and again. Harder and harder. Shouting at each other. Screaming at each other. In the rain, as it pours. In the dim midnight, star-speckled sky that surrounds us. Visible through leafless, dead trees. Each symbolizing our barren lives. Not one lost in the field, but one after another. A graveyard of missing green and shattered dreams.
And in the middle of it, our duel of tits and impacts ends with you falling back, and then after your return, you tackling me. Driving forward and through me. Sending me to the wed, pooling mud, before mounting me. First my tummy. Then after a surge forward, onto my already swelling tits. Tits you catch between your perfect thighs and squeeze. The pain of it not even having a chance to register before hands – by palm and fingers, begin to rain down on my face is wild, violet slaps.
Each enrages me! Each infuriates me! Causing my blood to boil and lips to part in harsh banshee screams of utter panic, pain, and projected fury! But your blows do not just cause me to flare, no, as they also weaken and wound. Each stinging so bad that tears flow, even as I seem every bit the hellbeast.
My ability to fight and fire off those guttural roars fading little by little, as your strikes rain down, mercifully without bared claws.
Until finally, as lightning flashes in the distance, when you sense my growing state of fatigue and agony, you slide forward, and with a vicious yank drap my face up and into your pussy.
Your mud-splattered, sex-scented, sweat-glistened cunt. In it, my face disappears, as you grind on me. My hands lifting and pressing flat to your back, before my fingers curl, nails catch, and then with an intentional menace dig in.
“Your shouted taunts and growls ringing in my ears, as I try to get you off me. My feet trying to bridge but slipping in the wet mud. Leaving us there, in that moment and struggle, you trying to ride and grind on me, as I try to throw you off.
All of which makes your perfect ass slide and drag against my shifting tits. Back and forth. Left and right. Forward and back. An unintentional and hate-caused massage of our assets. Mine and yours.
Your essence seeping into my mouth as I scream inside of you. My lungs filling with not an ounce of air that did not come from your kitten. Your silhouette shown like a painting against the trailer, as once more lightning strikes behind us.
An exclamation point on your moment of dominance. A site you catch in your periphery, as my nails drags down your back hard until they reach your well-tanned cheeks. Once and then again.
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Ewa:
I hate you… I hate you with every ounce of my being….
They say, the best of friends used to be enemies… But it’s twice as true the other way around…
Years long of a crush… Of a one-way love…. Forbidden desire in my most fragile, needy, and tender of years…. All put into one bucket… Yours… Longing, praying, wishing, while you ignored me, whored your way with every boy at school…. Rebuffing me… Humiliating me… And making me feel lesser…
A vendetta that exploded after our last fight.. When I felt you… And found out your truth…
That you were like me… Except, you were a liar.. A hypocrite… I felt it with every thrust and grind, heard it with every slutty yelp and moan… As we tore into each other… Carving backs and flesh, biting tits, as our thighs crossed and your cunt begged mine for a duel….
Fuck you… For being a worthless piece of trash….
The only piece of trash I wanted in my life… Fuck you…
And fuck your FACE!!!
I grunt as my arms tire from the slapping… The rain pouring down… But I’m not finished… I’m not.. Because despite your mouth mashed against my sex…. Your soft lips are sealed.. Only parting to let out defiance… Insults…. And I shift higher… Precariously now trying to put more weight on your head, your breasts jiggling with every thrash and twist of your body, smacking into my ass, your nipples poking into my flesh… A massage of sorts, that we both feel…. And neither put a stop to…
Until your claws find my upper back and rake down… and
“AIIIEEEHHHH!!”
I screech feeling the pain, the searing, my skin raked and rended…. But I also feel your mouth, parted now… Your tongue against my slit… And I trade the pain for the pleasure, and the chance to humiliate you more… Enduring, I scream as your claws carve down the length of my back…
But as they reach to go on for their next journey, the pain doubles… No.. TRIPLES…. Your claws finding new starting points, but creating intersections as they carve down my flesh… And the points of criss-crossing are the deepest where the skin fully breaks and I can feel sticky wetness as I screech and my body finally throws itself off you, landing in the mud on the right side…
But you don’t leave.. You don’t roll away… No.. You FOLLOW… Your shoulders now pushing on my thighs and your body THRUSTING, causing my back to arch, curling me into a little ball bundle, almost like a pro-wrestling going for a rolling pin on the mats, my shoulders and upper back on the mud…. My knees pressing to my chest, my ass against your tits as your face is now off my sex, glistening with my girl juice, and your arms reach up, one sinking into my hair, the other swinging with wild, angry slaps at my left cheek… Screeching obscenities as all I can do is bring my arms up to block the onslaught…..
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Amber:
We were always the same. You and I. In so many different ways, it makes me nauseous now to even recount them. But the one way we were different, was that you knew what you were. You knew why the soft skin of other girls looks so inviting. Why you always got nervous at sleepovers with your friends. Why when those same friends would sit down on the bed behind you, and pull you between their legs, so they could brush your hair, you’d anxiously check the door to see if their mother was coming in.
Straight girls don’t feel those things. Straight girls aren’t nervous, because that moment means nothing.
To us, however, it was a chance. A single flickering candle light in the darkness.
And while you walked towards that flame, I turned my back on it. Wandering in the abyss. Hoping I was like the girls who felt nothing. Wanting with everything I had to never feel the guilt, the same, and the degradation of being caught.
Caught what? Caught BREATHING, as a girl who wanted girls.
And because we chose those opposing paths, we wound up here. Fighting in the dark. In the rain. As lightning strikes and thunder rolls around us.
Your pussy grinding on my face as I claw at you. The truth of my nature coming out, almost against my will, as after only a few moments trapped in your torrid pussy, I start to lick. To nibble. To kiss. Sucking on your clit like … like … I could have, if I had been as strong as you.
But I never stop scratching. Never stop clawing. Leaving me to wonder, for only a fraction of a second which it was that made you fall off of me and to the mud. The pleasure? The pain? Both?
Did you want me to keep going? Should I? God, WHY?! Why do I care?! Who do I wonder THAT, of all things, in the depths of this war. Why do I still after all these years want you…? Even though there isn’t a person in the world I hate more…..
Those thoughts and so many more swim through my mind as I chase you. Grabbing for you, and bending your prone body in two. Folding your legs down, till your knees hit your tits, and then reach in.
Down.
My right hand sinking into your messy hair to pull you back up, towards me. Causing your body to ache in angle, before I rain slaps down on your face, just like you did to me. Striking and striking. Until finally, because of wetness and due hostility, I slip past your lower half, and your body flattens out beneath me. My body pressed against yours, tits, tummy, and thighs, as I glare down at you and scream.
“FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! I DIDN”T KNOW! I COULDN’T ADMIT!” Not even aware of what I’m saying, or where it’s coming from, I slap you, again and again, until finally, I pull your face up to me, our eyes locked in a loathing glare.
“STUPID FUCKING LESBIAN BITCH!” At the very second those words have left my lips I lean in and kiss you. Hard. Biting your lips and tongue, as my hands move from your hair to your body and scratch.
Anywhere.
Everywhere.
Wanting to hurt you. To hate you. To fight you…. Even, as my own long-suppressed passions pour out in our hateful kiss.
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Ewa:
I scream as you go on a RAMPAGE….
I am feeling helpless… My arms up.. Defending….
And I feel like I hit rock bottom…. With my life… Because this moment exemplifies it all…
My body.. Folded…. Splayed…. It belongs to me, but right now, it’s not under my control, but someone else’s….. My back is in the mud… I can taste it on my lips as the flailing violence sends it splattering on my face, caking it with my tears as I taste them on my lips, along with crimson blood from a violent slap that smashes my bottom lip against my teeth… And I just SUCKLE it…. Again…. Accustomed to it…
But it’s YOU I’m not accustomed to… The way YOUR body feels… You’re not some 6′ cunt pinning me under her, wailing on me because she wanted my street corner… You’re not my pimp battering me for trying to skim some money because the fucks raise the price of the morning after pills, and he won’t supply the condoms…
It’s YOU…. Your petite, lithe, sexy, STRONG body that I wanted all my life… And now.. I’m getting… In the worst way possible….. Yes your’e naked… But your flesh isn’t rumbling and your tits aren’t bouncing in intense love making…. No… It does to accentuate the ferocity of every slap that rains on my cheek, mouth, nose, temple, until I whimper, feeling as dizzy as you were a minute ago…
And feeling my weakness you slide your body up and letting my ass and legs slap down on the mud with a loud **SPLASH**
And you don’t straddle me… You don’t sit on my face…. You don’t fucking even give me a cookie, of a chance to lick your pussy, and try to wash away the taste of mud, tears and blood with a lap at your honey…
Instead, your body SPLATS down on mine in a full spread… Making me GROAN in pain as my body thrashes and DIVES in the mud deeper…. Your legs spread with mine… Your toe nails poking at my ankles… Your clit fully grown, pressing on mine…. Your tits pressing on mine, both pairs pushed outwards, as our cleavages widen, and I feel our chest bones touching…..
Your bark your words at my face, and I SCREECH back…
“FUCK YOU!! FUCK YOU!!! YOU COULD!! YOU SHOULD!!!” — Screaming as your mouth suddenly drops on mine and I feel you KISSING me….
A kiss that I immediately answer with a sharp BITE to your bottom lip, hearing you squeel but I don’t stop until I cut your bottom lip too, tasting your blood mixing with mine.. And only then do I KISS you back… As our arms flail and wrap around the other, My claws going for your back, one slashing UP, the other DOWN, while your claws find my side and RAKE, dragging over my ribs to hips then back up…
Our hips GRINDING, mine pushing UP, yours shoving DOWN… Buttocks clenched, until my nails find your ass, and my fingers slip into the undersides, thumbs into your crack and I CLAW hard, holding your hip in place and I GRIND up into it, my legs bending, trying to buck us over, but your feet kick at mine, sliding them into the mud, determined to stay on top… But I kick back, my right leg and your left coiling together, and I brace my left foot in the mud and THRUST hard, tilting you, but its not enough your body SHOVES me back into the mud… Moaning into our wild, bloody kiss, but I brace again and THRUST harder, grunting as my pussy rubs into yours furiously…
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Amber:
I hate you. I think it, as we devour each other.
“I hate you.” I mutter it into your lips as we dine on each other’s mouth.
“I hate you.” I growl, as our continuous biting of lips and tongues let loose tiny spills of copper-flavored nectar.
“I HATE YOU!” I scream, when for a brief moments our kiss breaks so we can breathe.
“I HATE YOU MORE!” You scream it back at me, before you chase my mouth with yours, and once more we are locked lip to lip. Our curvy, busty, mud-covered bodies aligned and grinding.
Our eyes filled with fire as talon-tipped digits drag along each others skin. Backs, thighs, arm, and asses.
All of those same marked and clawed parts of your body fighting to roll us. To throw me off, so you can give chase and mount me. But I want this.
I need this….
I need to be on top of you. In control. Dominant with the one person in my fucking life who matters. And so with each lift, I find a way to slam you back down. Not as an afterthought, but in an unmistakable statement.
You’re mine.
The moment playing out again and again, as at the core of it – at the core of us, we fuck. Hatefully. Painfully. Slamming our hips together with such force, that we both know exactly what is being conveyed.
What is happening.
We aren’t making love in the rain. We aren’t suddenly lovers lost in a sea of lust and sentiment. No, we are still enemies. Still unrepentant cunts. Still destined to fight for the rest of our time in each other’s lives.
But we need more than just a triumph of strength. More than dominance over the flesh. Not because it means nothing, but because it isn’t enough. Not for us. Not when our every fiber of being begs to be sewn together and then pulled.
Not when we can claw and fuck. Fight tooth and nail while adding the extra humiliation of taking control of the other sexually.
And so we strive. There in that star-lit night. Meeting clit to clit, again and again, in one violent collision after another. Our kiss finally breaking, only a lightning flash before I bury my face in the base of your neck and then bite. Binding myself to you like a vampire. Piercing your skin with my canines, as an orgasm wells in each of us.
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Ewa:
“I HATE YOU MORE!” — I screech between the kisses… Raging… My eyes filled with tears… Not as much of pain of feeling my back and side rended by your claws… But of anger… Despair.. Of emotion to the STATE of us…
To be CURSED… Mocked by whatever cruel God that I TRULY believe exists…. For if there was none, our lives would not have been so twisted… Only a divine being of infinite cruelty, would align every event for us to be like this…. To be locked in this eternal conflict…. That just worsens every day, every chance to meet, every clash…
Our naked bodies writhing…. Breasts mashing and forcing the other apart…. Abs tightening, lifting… A hooker’s bottom bridge, met by a strippers downward thrust…
And time and again, no matter how much we teeter, you send my ass down into the mud.. Again.. And again… The ground slippery, not allowing me the proper traction to build…..
So we kiss… Our tongues wrestling, weaving a thick wad of spit, spinning it like two black widows as spit drools down our chins… My claws gouging into your ass… Spreading your cheeks…. Trying to part you for my grinding and thrusts…
But you fight like a demoness…. You churn and twist…. Blonde hair cascading down on my face…. You don’t smell like roses and honey… No.. You smell of filth.. Sweat… Of sex and dirt…. But that’s the only aroma I’ve known….
We grimace and whine, when suddenly you break the kiss to BURY your teeth into my neck… Gnawing and biting, like a mad, thirsty vampire, and my body twitches, MOANING… My hands release your ass and slap at the back of your head… My calws digging into your scalp, scratching, grabbing your soaked hair as the rain pours down on my face… Screeching in pain as you FEAST on me…. My body thrashing…
My hips collapse to the ground, and with my right and your left legs coiled, your hips pivot at an angle, THRUSTING… SMASHING into my pussy… Labia smacking together like two boxer gloves, locked in a loop at the start of their match, bumping fists… But your clit, it stabs.. Stabs.. Stabs into my swollen one…. Sending shockwaves of deep pleasure and anguish through me..
Pleasure because I wanted nothing more in my life…
Anguish because they are HATE thrusts…. Not from a girl who wants to pleasure me… But to break me… To humiliate me.. To slut me out…
“Noo.. No… FUCK… FUCK….”
I cry out, feeling the unstoppable approaching..
“I hate you…”
“**I HATE YOUUUUUUUUURRRGHHRHRRHHHRH**”
I scream it out, my voice hoarse and growling, like a wounded animal as my first orgasm is RIPPED out of me, my right leg tensing and squeezing your left tightly, my left kicking and thrashing in the mud…. Gasping and shuddering as you rip one DEEP from my core…
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Amber:
There is nothing sweet about this. Nothing loving. Nothing gentle. I am brutalizing you with my body. Trying to break you with my smashing hips and firing thrusts, all as your every effort to escape me is thwarted by the mud that gathers and swirls beneath us. Your body sinking deeper, with every splash-announce crash of cunts and clits.
I should feel bad about it. Taking advantage of your placement and predicament. Should feel shamed for using your slipping and sliding so I can beat your body with my own.
But I don’t. Not for a single fucking second. Empathy. Sympathy. Fair fly. Fuck it. FUCK ALL OF It, just like I’m fucking you. My own moans muffled in the skin I have gathered between my clenched jaws. My form, as beautiful and curvy as it is, resembling, at that moment, if only in action, crocodile taking its prey beneath the water.
Beneath the surface of this struggle of ours and down to its depths. The pleasure and pain grabbing at you like hands from the deep, pulling you into the abyss of satisfaction my efforts have wrought.
All of which I can feel. All of which I can hear as you curse at me. Lamenting my lavished assaults in this carnal conflict. Arguing with the fate that sees you there, trapped beneath me. Moaning and crying! Screaming and bleating out small sounds of satisfaction and suffering. Making me cry once more, this time tears of absolute fucking joy.
Then it seizes you. The orgasm I forced upon you. Your body tensing, clawing hands grasping, and lips releasing the sweetest fucking words I have ever heard. A mournful, wounded, desperate scream. “I HATE YOU!!!!” You say, as you cum.
Not for Cam.
Not for some man so he’ll give you a cig.
But for me….
God, I love it. This moment. This feeling. This sensation. All of it threatening to make me cum in your wake. To release my own liquid lust on your cunt. To mark it. To mark YOU as my prey.
But I am the crocodile. The predator. The fucking wicked bitch who drug that orgasm from you, against your will. And so instead of letting the sight, the sound, the FEELING of your throes of passion break me, I lift and push you back down into the mud one last time and then peel my body from yours. Retracting into a straddle of your left thigh on my knees, and then to a stand, as I glare down at you.
The waves of desire that once threatened to overwhelm me ebbing, as I place my hands on my hips, and stand above you. “Get the FUCK up, Ewa.
As I speak, I step back, and then start to circle you. Watching as you recover. “We’re not those limp pricks at the bar. We’re not Cam, or Jimmy, or John, or James…. I know you have more in you. So get up, so I can fuck you up again.”
“But I’m tired of this mud. I’ll be in the shower. Meet me there, slut.” I hiss, before turning my back on you, and starting my trek to the trailer.
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Ewa:
I’m crying…. I’m locked in this love-hate barbed-wire coil that’s wrapped around my soul…. Screaming as I feel you thrusting your hips into mine… Every slam of your velvety pussy against mine, fueled by loathing and anger. Sinking me further into the mud. Figuratively and literally. My body driven in deep under your weight like quick sand, I can no longer counter-thrust. I can no longer shield or block or absorb. And your limbs are taking care of mine, to ensure I can’t move out. That I can’t do anything but…
TAKE IT… TAKE IT… TAKE ITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT… UUUUGHHHH…
And with a whiny loud stretched squeal I gush… Cumming violently under you… My eyes wide in a mix of ecstasy and shock…. All the advances.. All the ground I made… All the territories I’ve captured against you… Suddenly surrendered to your counter-assault… And now… Now I feel what you felt last time…. The humiliation… The anguish and despair… As you press your body on mine…. Just… Blanketing me with your weight and naked flesh…. Your breasts smushed with mine, your nipples poking into flesh… Your lips against my neck, panting… Letting me feel your heartbeat THUMPING through your ribs…. And then… You slowly lift up…. Almost spitting the words at me.. Telling me to fucking get up as you tower over me….
I moan and twist slightly… But you keep taunting me.. Infuriating me as I glare up at you and hiss in a bitter, angry voice..
“Fuck.. YOU.. Amber… Fuck.. YOU.. Cunt…” — And I swing my left leg, in my mind, I’m hoping it would be a powerful kick nailing you in your cunt… Punishment for what you’ve done to me… But alas, my foot barely departs the ground, like a plane with a faulty engine, skipping the mud and splattering some of it on your already caked shin and thigh…. Then my head drops back in exhaustion.. Staring at you…
Fuck.. I’m gonna need a minute…
But you don’t have the patience… Hissing at me that you will be inside, in the shower… Leaving me laying there as I stare at the cloudy sky above us… Panting… Moaning and whining…..
I hear the trailer door slamming shut…. And it takes me a minute longer than I thought before I can turn and PLUCK my body in the Ewa-shaped hole in the mud that you drilled me into… It looks almost like one of those crime-scene chalk-sketches they put around homicide victims, only a three-dimensional one… Almost comical… And I grunt as I stumble to the trailer, ripping the door open, and staring at the trail of mud that you’ve left on the floor and walls, and I leave my own, my hands slapping on the walls as I make my way to the small bathroom, the door open… And there you are… Standing in the small, practically one-person shower…. With the mud barely washed off your face, still clinging stubbornly to your hair, back, tits, thighs and ass.. And I open the sliding door and see you turn to me, but I just THUMP my body into yours and drive you back to the wall… My fingers, reaching down and cupping your thick ass, digging into it as the water beats down on us… My muddy face pressing into your just-cleaned one and I start to RUB my cheek against yours.. Smearing you with more of it as I hiss…
“You little cunt… I ain’t done with you… Fucking never, you piece of trash…”
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Amber:
It was a long, slow walk, though in truth, it was only about 40 feet from beginning to end. My tired, mud-covered body dragging, as the wet ground beneath my feet gives way beneath me.
Your spree of curses and final petulant kick, making me smile as I leave you. To wallow. To hate. Just as you did to me that first night we fought.
The thought of having some victory over you. ANY victory over you making me feel not just alive, but happy. For the first time in years. And so I cling to that joy, as I drag myself up the steps of the trailer. Focus on it, as I pull the squeaky, metal door open and then limp through towards the shower.
Passing the fucked up bed we sleep on, every night. The bed where our hot, sweaty bodies brush and press. Only for one or both of us to wake up, to start some conflict. Scratching. clawing, or pulling at each other’s hair until we fall asleep together.
The hisses of our enemy, our lullaby.
The whimpers of pain offered, the sheep we count as we drift off into dreams and nightmares then never fail to feature each other.
But finally, I make it to the wall-built box shower. Barely enough room to sit down, let alone fit two thick, busty women inside comfortably.
But I didn’t challenge you to meet me there, when you’d picked yourself up and out of the mud for comfort. No, I wanted more war.
More pain. More punishment. More hatred let loose.
And though that is what I asked for, at that moment, as the warm water spurts out of the showerhead in a sudden burst. I relax. My mind. My body. Washing the filthy mud off and down the drain.
Even though I know you’re coming. I know you won’t give up. Not tonight. Not ever. We’re too alike. Too hopeless. Too without avenue to escape or advance in a life that long ago proved that it hates us.
“BAM” I hear it. The door to the trailer swing open hard. Followed by muffled thudding footsteps. Then, just as I try to ready myself and turn to face you, you pull open the shower door and join me.
Not slowly or teasingly. But in a sudden lurch that in an instant brings our bodies together. The water on mine, spreading to yours, just as the mud you still carries sets back the cleaning I was so happy to have done.
Then, as the springless shower door closes with a snap behind you, we grab. Your hands moving to my ass, and mine to your hair, as our heads turn, and we rub our cheeks against each other.
Like a cat marking its owner.
The caked mud on your face smearing across my warmth-reddened cheek as we start to strain. No where to go. No where to push or pull each other to. Trapped in a tall rectangle, barely big enough to fit our sealed together bodies.
Our lips pressed to each other’s ears as we hiss, each of us knowing how important it is that we don’t wake up Cam. “You’re just looking to get your ass kicked again, slut….”
The words we speak filling and fueling us, as in tight, quick shifts, we spin. Once and then again. A third time and then on. My right hand eventually working down from your hair, to in between us. Where the palm of it presses to the bottom of your chin, and then up. Looking to use that pressure, and the hand I have in your hair to bend your head and neck back painfully.
All as, your nails dig deeper and deeper into my ass. An attack that makes me raise up on tip-toes, and then almost try to lift off the ground to escape the pain.
![](https://fights.sexy/wp-content/uploads/2019/03/1129036_orig.png)
Ewa:
I don’t even remember, if Cam is still home or not…. But even if he is, he’s a heavy sleeper…. That loud **BAM** of the front door is something he’s used to since we both moved in… Just like the dirt bikes backfiring outside all day long, or the kids setting some fireworks off…. It’s life in a trailerpark, and working in the fucking Steel Mill has surely made him a bit heavier of hearing…
I pass by our bed… The arena of our first clash… Of our first fight, the first night we both moved in…. One that was constantly on our mind…. The battle that I lorded over you… until.. now…
Until what you’ve just done to me…. To my body… To my cunt….. And I know, that the five minutes that passes that took me to get up and recover are more than enough for your goddamn pussy to have recovered, and now, it’s no longer on the same edge it was outside….
Damn you.. Fucking DAMN YOU….
I truly thought I was better… I fucking proved it.. But you went on to fucking erase it.. To scrub it… To beat me outside…. Claw and tit and cunt… And I take a tiny solace in the fact that it’s pretty damn early outside, and there wasn’t a crowd watching it.. Seeing what you’ve done to me… But alas, I won’t be surprised if some creep was staring us from their window, with a handheld videocam in one hand and their other hands stroking their cock or thumping their vagina….
No… No.. This isn’t fucking over…. And I open the shower door dramatically… Glaring at you… The almost coffin-sized stand up shower almost occupied fully by your body… Your thick, curves as you stand there, glaring.. Ready.. Expecting me as I FLING my body into your sand we meet again, with a loud mud-meets-water **SPLAT** and our arms immediately wrap around each other, as we GRIMACE and the door shuts behind us…. Three walls are made of the cheapest cracked mildew-covered tiles, and the third is the tinted glass of the door….
“UUGGHH!!” I grunt as our bodies embrace… And I feel your fingers going for my hair… YANKING as I YELP..
“AWWWHHH!” — But I CLAW into your thicker, curvier ass… My nails biting into the flesh and I PULLL hard…. spreading your cheeks as hard as I can, almost like I’m doing it for a fucking camera and to show everyone your pucker and pereneum… And our feet shift and stumble on the tiles…. Your back hitting a wall then mine hitting the glass door, spinning slightly, and I thump you into another wall before your paw JAMS into my chin and you PUSH hard, pressing my back to the other wall, and your body GRINDS into mine.. The water pouring down on us…. It’s still warm… But we both know it won’t last long… The damn undersized heater can only keep it running warm for few minutes.. Before it turns to a chill…
Your nipples GOUGE Into my tits… As I grunt, the back of my head jammed into the tiles, my scalp on fire from your hairpull… And I purse my lips and SPIT into your face… My lips still muddied and I splatter some gross brown smudges on your eyes along with my spit… My left claw remaining on your right cheek, but my right slides between your spread cheeks, and I press my thumb against your rosebud.. Not clawing… I just.. PUSH, trying to rub it as I GRIND my hips into yours…. Driving my clit against yours, my right calf crossing behind your left, and I brace my ass into the tiles and THRUST hard, trying to turn us to push you into the corner… My other four fingers spreading towards your labia, still furious about you making me cum…. Still wanting to make you GUSH for me like the little SLUT that I know you are…
“NNGGHHH… How.. Dare.. You… Turn.. Your… Back.. On… Me… Amberrrrrrrrrrrr…” — I grimace and whine, my tears bursting from my eyes…
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Amber:
Outside in the cold air. In the heavy rain. In the mud and the moonlight. Every movement was wild and dramatic. Dives and tackles. Rolls and flips. Huge windups and then vicious swinging slaps.
Every moment seeming to come from nowhere, even though we saw each happening. WHy? We were busy. We were distracted. With our malice. With our hate. With our focus not on the ins and outs of our battle, but on the broader strokes of this lurid and loathsome affair.
But now. In this closed space. With the broken, flickering light at the center of the cracked tile roof above us, we can feel everything. Sense everything. Every movement. Every adjustment. The curling of fingers, bending of joints, and pressing of soft, wet flesh.
The mud washing from our bodies and down the quickly clogging drain as the warm water we once enjoyed begins to pitch down in temperature. Not slowly, but quickly. Not unexpectedly, but in exactly the way it does everytime one of us takes a shower.
But that swiftly growing chill barely registered in my mind as together we writhe. Our hips shifting and mounds seeking each other out. Our once then again spins only ending, when you have me pressed deep into the corner of the shower. My ass pressed tight against the filth-covered tiles, as you start to thrust into me. Your hands focused on my ass. One to claw and dig, as the other enters and threatens.
Your lips launching a cannon shot of saliva that splashes between my eyes and drips down. The shock of it giving me just enough pause for you to break my angling of your cervical spine, and return to me. Forehead to forehead. Nose to nose.
My hands moving to your shoulders to try to push you away, knowing how hopelessly trapped and wedged into the two walls of the shower. Your spit sliding down until it passes over my lips and into my mouth.
Then your sinking digit advances, further and further into my darkstar. My beautiful cream-colored tits compressing beneath yours. Leaving my nipples stabbing into the underside of your dominant pair as my only active defense.
“You won’t make me cum … bitch….” I hiss, though it trembles. “You’re not woman enough….” I growl, though my eyes close as your multi-pronged attack begins to overwhelm me.
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Ewa:
We strain and struggler… The cadence of battle already dictated… But nothing but my sheer rage and desperate desire to.. Get even…. Outside in the rain, we pulled hair, we slapped, we thumped fists into sides and backs… We clawed and scratched and rolled… But you.. You fucking CUNT… You chose the venom that you poisoned me with… You used your pussy… Your cunt… To batter mine… To FUCK me into the mud, like a worthless whore… The worthless whore that you’ve always treated me as….
Because it’s what you do best… Better and far easier than anyone else in my life… Better than every fuck whose dick I sucked and refused to pay me anything but a punch to my gut before walking away, calling me low-life trash… Than any cop who arrested me and then pulled his car in an alley, thrusting his cock into my rear, my face rubbing into the filthy backseat, while the cuffs bloodied my wrists… Every person who told me I’m trash.. I’m nothing..
You.. You did it with honey-laced pills…. While everyone around us, praised you… Called you an angel… A good girl… Only for you to straddle a pole and spin around it, showing everyone what I already knew…
That you’re trash.. A fucking low-life CUNT, Amber….
We struggle in the small shower… Your hands pressing on my shoulders…. Forcing my body back… I grimace, my shoulderblades touching the opposite wall, My tits slipping away from yours, but even pressed against the walls, our nipples still flick each other… It’s my reach-around that I have to give up on, as my arm can’t reach all that around, and I yelp, bringing it up and I SLAPPP you across your face hard, PRESSING my finger tips, they are still muddied, but now, they carry your scent, as I rub them against your mouth, shoving my finger tips inside your mouth and rubbing them against your gums, like a fucking cock-addict….
“I’ll make you…. do… EVERYTHING.. You…. cunt…. And you’ll… BEG… For… More…” — I grimace, my left hand going up and grabbing your right tit, fingers spreading over your massive soft mammary, then giving it a kneading SQUEEZ, pushing it up…
My left leg bending upwards, using every bit of flexibility I have, sliding my knee between our chests, my toes pushing between your thighs… Not clawing… No.. I press my big toe against your puffed labia and SHOVE it inside you…. Twisting my foot as I toe-fuck you, using the other digits to rub and stroke your fucking clit…
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Amber:
Maybe it was doubt. Maybe it was fear that led me to use my sexuality against you. Knowing how our first fight ended, after we stayed on the other side of that line.
How you bested me.
Broke me.
When all we fought with was pain.
Maybe it’s who we are now, after leaving such disparate, and yet somehow mirrored lives of suffering. I used my body in secret to climb. As you used yours just to survive.
I played the angel. The good girl. Even if it was an act. Even if some people in my life saw through it enough to call me the very same names everyone in your life called you.
So whereas sensuality to me has always been a weapon, to you, it has always been defense. Just as it was out there in the mud. Just as it was when I chose to broaden our battlefield.
Selfishly.
Unfairly.
And though out there, in earned me victory. The sound of you cumming. The feeling of your body giving into mine. The exhilaration of knowing that I bested you. In something. In ANYTHING!
Now, as you keep me pinned in the corner of this shower. The water cascading down on us long now cold. It is I who am suffering the cruel shameful bite of pleasure used as offense.
The thumb you used to press against and into my nether brought to my mouth and then shoved inside. God, I want to suck it. The invasive thought tears through my mind. I want to taste it. I want to let you fuck me. Right here in this freezing shower.
The pleasure of first your cunt slamming into mine and then your leg stretched, bent, and brought to bear with an extended and driving big toe. Using the space I created with my push of your shoulders to literally fuck me.
“I hate you….” I mutter around your pressing and pushing thumb, as pleasure tries to overcome that very emotion.
“You’ll never….” I brag desperately, just as the very words are stolen from my mind. Your toe sliding in and out. In and out. Harshly. Painfully. But with every ounce of pain comes a river of pleasure.
Then you reach in and grab for my breast. Surrounding it with your digits and squeezing. Massaging it with a violence that makes me whimper, when all I want to do is scream. Knowing I can’t wake Cam, even though you’re ravaging me.
I feel it all slipping away. My ability to do anything else but to give into you. My focus on our hatred and anger. But somehow, just when it seems I am truly lost once more, do the only thing I can do.
Drop. The water and mud that coat our bodies giving me just enough coating and give to get past your groping hand and shoving leg. My weight dropping me down to my knees, just before I reach around you, grab your ass with my own digging digits, and then pull your spread legs forward and your pussy to my mouth.
My lips disappearing between yours just as hiss up to you. “We’ll see who begssss—mmmnnnpphhhh…” The words muffle and drift off, as I go to work. My jaw opening and teeth catching lightly around your clit, so that my tongue can attack. Knowing I was only seconds away from utter submission. And that all I can hope to do now, is catch up.
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Ewa:
Why are you… YOU??
Why are you such.. a BITCH…. So… Perfectly tough… Sexy… Catty.. .Bitchy…. and HORRENDOUS to me??
It’s moments like this… Where I HAVE YOU… Where your body is just shuddering, your attacks ceasing…. When I hear you moan and see your bitchy face that I LOATHE turn into that of a horny slut in the throes of pleasure, that I HATE you the most…
Because you show me, what we could have been… What we could have become… It’s everything I fantasized about in high school…. Through my teens years… Wanting you… While watching you surround yourself with jocks, pretending you are into men… When I knew it in my heart, that you were like me…
Why.. Why.. You WHORE… Why do you fucking choose to be like this?? Why does the word that leave your lips in a moment like this, is another declaration of hatred…
One that I spit back, through lips TREMBLING from the chill of the cold water raining down on me…
“I… *brrr*… Hate… you.. moorreee…” — My voice low, neither wanting to alert or wake up Cam… As I knead your breast… But it’s so massive, so firm.. Every squish relaxed returns it to its shake and full ness…. And then…
One moment you’re there… Getting TOE-fucked by me.. While I grin viciously…. Knowing I have you.. Fucking… KNOWING it…. And then the next.. You’re gone… Your heels SLIDING on the tiles beneath us, made even more slippery with the mud washed off our bodies, and your ass SPLATS on the pooled up water, as you cup my ass and PULL me violently into you…
My eyes go wide as I am JERKED forwards, my tits HITTING the corner walls, each smashing into one, as my own face rams into the wall and I MOAN… Yelping as I taste blood on my lips instantly….
But then, I feel it… Your mouth.. On my pussy… On my sex… Along with your serpentine hisssss… And..
“OOHHHHHHH… FFFKKKKCCKKKKK!” — I moan as my body tenses.. Feeling it.. For the first time ever… Your mouth… On my pussy…. And my body shudders… I brace the walls with my hands, but before I thrust myself back I feel your tongue slashing up, and…
FUCK….
My arms, betray me… They go on a strike, refusing to push away, as I feel your legs curling, your shins hooking behind my heels like door stops, to stop me from sliding away… And I just shut my eyes and SHUDDER….
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Amber:
We’ve now been under this running water for over 7 minutes, and yet we still haven’t gotten off all the mud. Most of it, yes, but not all. Which means for all intents and purposes we are filthy.
Stained with dirt and grime we may never truly get off.
And though we are. And though we’ve both been submerged in grime our whole lives, in one way or another. Nothing has ever tasted more pure – more sacred – more sweet and satisfying as the liquids I pull from you. Lapping and licking at your precious pink kitten.
Using my teeth and tongue – lips and even voicebox to make do exactly what you were doing to me not moments before. Stealing your will. Your fire. Making you want me and what I’m doing more than you desire to hurt me.
Hate me.
And though I can’t see it, above, my swirling tongue, nibbling teeth, and working lips do exactly that. Your will to unleash readied and hovering strikes seeming to evaporate in the air, as hands that once meant to wound land on my shoulders. Their grip not dagger-tipped or digging, but instead soft and bracing. Used to keep you up, and me steady as I devour you.
Your divine thighs seizing, just like the muscles in your stomach, as I hear you mutter and curse above me.
You want to hit me. You want to hate me. But at that moment you are mine, and nothing in my entire life has ever felt so good. Tears welling and then shedding with joy.
We were never together. We will never be together, despite the intimacy of our struggles. But making you quiver. Making you shake. Making you shudder as you hold onto me fills my minds with visions of futures we could have lived. Lives we could have had.
They are blissful and sweet. Heart-breaking, but only in the very best of ways. And though each of those visions might otherwise risk my own focus, and my own ability to hate you. They instead drive the same.
You took those from me. From us. We could have been happy, but you…. BUT YOU…. BITCH! I growl, even as I sob. Lavishing your cunt with every ounce of pleasure I can muster. Driving you faster, further, stronger towards a cliff we both know is coming. Just. Like. you.
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Ewa:
The water pours down… Far colder, chillier than the rain outside… My body… Shaking… Trembling…. My face pressed to the wall… Shuddering as you clutch my ass and press your face to my sex…
Fuck fuck fuuuuckkkk…
I would have killed, to have you go down on me for all my teen years… I have reached down, with trembling fingers touching myself, biting my pillow, eyes shut, picturing you were giving me head…. But knowing it would be a thousand times better.. Sweeter… Erotic….
And now… You’re doing it….. With tongue and teeth… Your lips and throat growling and reverberating… And I moan, utterly helpless, but not your prisoner this time… I’m not pinned underneath you in a muddy pit…. Exhausted and weighed down… I’m the one on my feet and you’re on your ass… I’m standing up… No.. I’m a prisoner to my own mind… My own weakness, that you seem to have grasped well, and now, exercising it like a dirty slut entering a cheat code in a video game…..
I feel your tongue dragging up along my slip…. Then your teeth gnaw on them, but not enough to make me cry, just moaaan loudly.. Your fingers prodding and pocking at my ass, spreading my cheeks…. My left hand reaching down… Touching your head, but I don’t claw… I don’t pull your hair, I just wrap my fingers around your silky drenched locks, gripping and massaging your head…
“Oh… gawd… gawd… fffffuuuuccckkkkkk…” — I moan as my body trembles, and I shudder…
FUCK FUCK FUCKKK!! FUCK MEEEEEE!! HOW… NO.. DON’T YOU DARE!!!
GUSSSHHH
My body shudders again, an orgasm rivaling the one you ripped from me outside as I moan and my hands begin sliding on the tiles… My knees buckling and weakening… The only thing stopping me from crashing straight down are your hands and arms cradling my ass… And your head leaning down, lapping and lashing at my pussy, seemingly determined to prove your point…. Your dominance over me, until my ass hits the tiles with a splash, and I yelp, my body folding backwards, my shoulders hitting the opposite wall… Sobbing… A gushing, emotional mess…..
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Amber:
It feels like eternity and a flash all at once. The moment stretching with every moan – every cry – every pleasure-drunk whimper. But as enduring as those beautiful sounds make that moment in the cold water of the shower seem, it wasn’t nearly long enough.
As in truth, I would have stayed there between your thighs pleasuring you, on my fucking knees, forever. Not because I want you to feel pleasure, or because I am song devotee, destined to be on my knees, worshiping you.
No, instead, it’s because this moment is my victory. This moment is your submission. My ascendance and your shame. We’re enemies, and yet right now, you want me. We’re rivals, but in this tiny, filthy shower, you want nothing more than for me to give me your every ounce of control.
Willingly.
Wantonly.
A deviant slut who, could she speak, might beg me to keep going. But I don’t ask or demand you to. Wanting your orgasm more than to hear those words spoken. Knowing that between us there can be no errors – no omissions.
No wasted time or chance.
And so I keep going. Keep churning your cunt into the sweetest, honey-soaked butter. Until finally, I feel you pitch and climb. Your hips firing on their own, as your body speaks those words you never offered. Take me. Make me. Taste me. OWN me!
And I do. With every talent I have ever fucking learned. The sum total of my lustful lackluster existence poured into your pussy. And because of that diligence – that laser-like focus, I feel you hitch. I feel you shiver. And then after it all, explode.
A hot gush of the sweetest nectar I have ever tasted spilling into my mouth. Its essence coating my tongue and tastebuds as I keep going. Slowing only when I know you need me to. Ebbing my assault only when I know any more would cause your pleasure to turn cold and stinging.
It is then, in the aftermath, as your orgasm seems to pass, you start to slide, as I release you. Down the shower wall, and to its floor with me. My hands reaching up and over you descending body so I can turn off the freezing cold water.
“Biiittccchhh….” I hiss at you like a lioness, as your glazed over eyes look to me.
“Not woman enough….” I coo, as I climb into your lap, straddling your thighs. Pressing my forehead to yours, as you lean weakly against the shower wall. My heavy breasts coming down in a rest atop yours. Your once hard nipples softened, in the wake of your second brutal climax.
“But we’re not done….” Again I speak, and again my voice sounds like the slither-tongue rattle of a snake.
“I want more….” I don’t stop telling you what I want or how I feel in this moment of dominance. My right hand raising and without extension or wind up, slap you across the face with a wrist snap.
“And you’re going to give it to me….” It is a demand. A certainty in my mind. And when after I have told you of it, I gather the spit in my mouth and then spit in your face.
Watching it’s white-bubbled viscosity slide down your face, just as yours did mine.
“This time, I want it in our bed. My bed, cunt….” So confident. So cruel. So malicious. I hate you, and nothing could be more clear as I then push myself up to a stand. Not with a hand safely pressed against the wall, but instead with both shoved into your blood and mud covered face. Shoving the back of your head against the shower tile, as I make it to a stand, and then open the shower door. Leaving you once more in a wet puddle of your own shame as I turn my back on you.
Just as you told me not to. My thick, juicy ass the last sight you see before the door shuts behind you and I move to our bed to wait. For you to recover. For you to stand. And then for my total and complete revenge.
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Ewa:
I slump down… Beaten…. Again…. My mind spinning in the shock of it all…. Once more, I think I almost had you… Only… Only for THIS….
Not long ago.. I was the one chasing you… I was the one on a two weeks-long crusade of humiliating, bullying, rubbing it into you… In the kitchen… In our bed every night tugging the covers from over you and leaving your naked body uncovered through the night… I’m the one who yanked your breakfast from your hand, bit into it, then threw it into the trash… The one who shoved you off the bed in the middle of the night with my foot, ordering you to get me a drink…
And now…. I’m the one who got crushed… FUCKED…. Dominated.. Not once… But TWICE…
And I hate you.. GAWD I hate you because how much I loved it… How you’re proving that you’re not just every bit the woman and bitch I am… But then SOME….
You slowly slide up my prone, naked body… Pressing your cunt down on mine.. Mashing your tits against my pair and spreading them as I’m arched back, shoulders pinned to the wall… SPITTING in my face and telling me you’re not done yet.. .as you slap me….
“F…ff..fuuck… You… Nevverr…” — I growl at you and see a vicious grin curl up on your face…. The answer you wanted.. .You wished for… And with a little bitchy smirk you rise up, turn, and PRESS your ass into my face, mashing my head into the tiles as the pressure spreads your cheeks, and my lips touch your pucked, muffling and mumbling before you push out and leave me…
The choice, if it even existed, is clear… Fucking lay in the shower and spend the night here… In the inch-deep muddy cold water that’s slowly draining… To get fucking pneumonia, or… Go to our bed…. And continue to wage WAR against you… Despite my body being spent… Drained….. And exhausted… My ego crushed and my pride scrubbed clean off me….
And I know the choice as I turn, grabbing the shower bar on the inside of the door and helping myself up… Panting…. I take a minute to compose myself… To gather the realization…. That what started 1-0… Is now a 1-2 in your favor…
And now… I have to fight with everything I got, JUST to get even with this bitch…
But can I??? — You’re a different BEAST today…. And you found your game… It’s your sex appeal.. It’s how badly I desired you all my life… And despite those emotions turning to hatred, their seed, their essence is deeply burrowed inside me… And you fucking clawed your way to it.. You’ve found it… That weakness that I must KILL….
I push up to my feet, my lips pursed…. My eyes teary, and I open the shower door, stumbling outside… Following the trail of water that dripped off your body, adding to it, as I stumble to our futon, seeing it pulled open…. And you, perched on your knees on the darkness, only with thin lines of light creeping through the shutters on the window… Making you look like every man and woman’s dream…
But you’re my nightmare….
And slowly, I walk up to the other side of the bed, and climb on it… Not to my knees… no…
I slide on my back…. My legs spreading… Staring at you quietly..
Just as you did, our first night here…. When you laid flat, taunting me to climb atop of you…
And I just stare at you… Defiantly.. Angrily…
“Come on then, bitch…” — I whisper… Glaring at you, my fingers curled… My claws digging and scratching at the sheets, warming up…..
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Amber:
There in the dark. As the broken, dust-covered blinds let in angled and adjacent bands of moonlight, I wait. On my knees. Feeling more confident than I have ever felt in my entire fucking life.
These victories, small and incomplete though they are, filling me with pride. With this novel and nascent feeling of worth. The truth of my dominance, that I am using a tool I found by way of privilege and lies fading from my mind.
No longer seeing that we have both won, but on different battlefields so far. Mine sexual and yours violence. Mine the strengths of a whore and yours the hellcat.
Instead I see myself as predator and you prey. My prey. And god, it is everything.
Watching you drag yourself from the shower. Soaked and slow. Withered, and at least in my mind, witless.
Moving to the opposite side of the futon, and then climbing atop it. Your wet body slumping and then collapsing down on it on your back. Just as I had when we first fought. Inviting me to crawl to you. To press my body and breasts cunt and clit atop yours.
At the sight, my lips curl into an even more devious smirk. My eyes alight with excitement and malice. My lips beginning to open. To taunt you. To accuse you of just wanting me to fuck you to orgasm again.
But before I utter a single sound, they close. You’re drained. Almost docile. Weak. But if I challenge you, you might rise. You might flare. And I want you just as you are.
On your back. Expecting me to once more meet you in a game and gambit of pleasure. And so instead of taunting or hissing, I slowly start to move. Dropping from my knees to a crawl, and then over you. Just as I would if I were going to press myself to you.
To align our bodies and then grind until one of us – until you cum for a third time. And though I do, and though I see in your eyes that you expect exactly that, mid way up your body, I hop forward. Landing on and straddling your tummy, just as my hands shoot down and grab your breasts. My claws digging in deep. My eyes wide and angry. My mouth only then opening to speak, as you react to my attack. “You’ve always been a leg-spreading whore.. Ewa….”
The same words you spoke to me that fateful night. The words I want ringing in your ears as I start to tear at your perfect tits.
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Ewa:
I’m worse for wear… But I’m not done…. I’m sore.. But I’m not beat…. I’m tired…. But I’m not spent….
Yes, we started rough outside… We swung and spun, we fought and clawed…. But that didn’t last long…. We FOUGHT for maybe five minutes… And from there.. You dragged me off my turf… My territory.. The place that countless thumping hissing and scratching encounters with other hookers that ended with us dragging the other into some alley, swinging and claw, gave me a natural edge at…. Or at least, more experience than you… Where any tension with another stripper is often broken up instantly by the manager and his goons, who want to make sure the ‘goods are not’ damaged….
And unlike what most would think. The stripper has the edge sexually… Years of lap dancing in the ‘no-touch’ing diamond room made you an impossibly good Goddess of seduction…. Whereas all my sexual experience comes from getting on my knees, resisting to yawn while some limp dicked married asshole thrusts in me before cumming on my back… Faking pleasure, rarely getting even aroused myself….
And as I slide on the futon I glare at you, seeing your Cheshire cocky smirk that I want to claw right off your face…. Seeing your lips part, then shut, as you get on all fours and slither over me.. And I tense… Readying myself for round 3…. One that would either give me redemption…. Or put you on such an unimaginable winning streak over me…..
But suddenly…
“OOMMMPHHH!!” — I grunt as you pounce and DROP your ass on my stomach, my body jolting up, in shock and pain, as air and spittle fly from my mouth and on your tits feeling your claws STAB into mine and shove me back on the bed….
No more kneading.. No more fondling… No.. Those are TEARING claws… SCRATCHING talons, and I grit on my teeth as I try to hold on the screech leaving my lips as you insult me…. Snarling at me…. Repeating the same insult I gave you two weeks ago….
My arms shooting up and I grab at your forearms… Grimacing I SCRATCCH down them, from elbow to wrist, over your tattoos as I grab at your wrists and try to pry your grip….
“NNGGHHHH…. And you’re… AHHH… Such… a loser FUCK, Amber….” — I sneer at you as our eyes lock and I swish some spit in my mouth, then LAUNCH the wad at your eyes…. An apparent insult… But no… It’s more than that as I try to distract you and make you to shut your eyes for a moment, as my legs kick up beside you, outside your clawing arms, and I THRUST my calves against your biceps, my heels thumping into your tits as I cross my ankles and THRUST violently back, trying to drop you off me and to your back on the bed….
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Amber:
There is a look. A study. When a person is so much the center of your universe that you derive every emotion – every satisfaction from them. You gaze upon them. Your eyes reacting to every tiny change in their expression.
So often that look is love. Devotion. Souls intertwined and the deepest of levels. But we are the exception. The once in a million. As I look at you, that same way. Just as you look up to me. Each of us studying. Each of us gazing. What is she doing, feeling, thinking….
But where as others have the experience to know and to sense, we, as many times as our paths have crossed, are still learning about each other. Still finding out what one expression means vs. another.
And so despite the malicious glee you see on my face, you don’t expect or defend. Ready yourself for me to strike, instead laying beneath me certain I will take you up on your offen of going body to body once more in a game of womanly ways and hips as they sway.
So when I do hop and then reach – catch and then claw you aren’t ready and so my nails dig deep. Dragging and savaging before your face has even finished registering the initial pain.
At the site, I laugh – or perhaps a better word is cackle. I am hurting you, and I love it. I tricked you, and it makes me GLAD. So glad that I lean in and down. Wanting you to see my face and hear the sound of my glee. But when I do, you spit. And this time, it hits me square in the eyes.
Eyes which in an instant slam shut, my lids desperate to eject the saliva that now coats them. But in that blindness you act! Your legs firing up and hooking. Catching me by the biceps and with a force throwing me back and down to my back on the bed. My legs spread and sticking straight up in the air. Your body, which sits up, framed between them, while my hands go to my eyes to try to help me see. Knowing that at that moment I could not be more open to you, my enemy.
The woman I was sure I’d be dominating in this third contest of wills.
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Ewa:
Once more, you fucking surprise me… Because… That’s what you do to me… ME… A fucking woman who made her entire life about reading who she’s with… Knowing if they are into kissing or spitting… Into head or a handy…. Doggy or missionary…. Soft moans or loud whor’ish squeals…. All to give it to them, and get that extra tip.. Enticing them for round two, to get paid double…
But you.. You’re a fucking blackbox…. Staring at you my brain waves turn into a jumbled static…. Because.. It’s YOU….
It’s not just your beauty, your soft flesh or massive tits that, in another universe, I would go home Friday and spend a day suckling and worshipping, only to spend another on your ass.. And a third on your pussy….
But that’s not our universe… We’re in a universe as deadbeat, homeless human trash… Forced to share a sofa of a cuck taking his payment through a blowjob or gushing inside us before telling us we better be on the pill, or we’ll have to flush it if we start to show…
We’re in a world where you are now atop of me… Your cunt PRESSING down on my belly, inches from the pussy yours BEAT down in a head-on battle, before making to GUSH again in the shower…. And with all my rage and fury I hook your body between your legs and you FLOP back, but not without letting your claws DRAG down the front of my tits, scratching and taking some skin with you as I MEOWL in pain, your damned left middle finger scoring my nipple, and I feel a BURN as the tip begins bleeding quietly…
But I don’t care… Suddenly, FOOLISHLY, you decided to bring this to a fucking CATFIGHT…. And that gives me a massive boost of confidence.. Knowing what happened in our first… Trying to BLOCK the fight in the rain, where you more than held your own, before turning it into an erotic hump fest….. No… This is mine.. I’m BETTER at this…
I press my left elbow in the hard futton, half sitting up, my body twisting, as I keep the pressure on your body, my thighs PUMPING once, snarling…
“Look who went right to her back… Can’t fight your nature, can you, Amber…” — I hiss your name almost like a curse word.. Practically spitting out before PUMPING again with my legs, squeezing my thighs against your ribs a second time.. My right hand swinging down with a wild SMACKKKK against your cunt….
My fingers, curling…. I grin viciously and without uttering a word, feeling the puffed, thick, slick labia, I DIG my claws into them… Clawing and scratching at your folds… A devilish, sadistic grin on my face….
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Amber:
It is only then, when I have lost my place atop you, and found myself on back once more that it comes back to me. The fear. The same. The humiliation of the 2 weeks before tonight. It had all gotten lost in the fog of domination. The thrill of victory. The beauty of your defeat.
But with those moments passing further and further into the distance, the confident and cockly expression I wore not seconds ago curls into one of pain and terror.
My body shifting and wriggling between your powerful squeezing legs, as I try to get free. MY tits and ass – pussy and perfectly drawn tattoos dancing for you. All as you look down at me with menace.
The deep scratches you left on my forearms only then registering, as I feel your legs pulse with hard – painful flexes. Your ankles and heels digging into my breasts as I fight to break your hold. But then, in the midst of that madness, I feel a sudden harsh sting that makes my right hand move to my mouth so I can scream without waking up Cam.
My left, shooting down and around, looking to get to you. To claw at you. Nails digging into your right thigh and then dragging as I shake my head left and right.
Muffled cries turning to soft, weak whimpers, as your hand that slapped suddenly shifts into what feels like the head of a spiked mace. Its needle point ends digging into my swollen, wet, and once victorious pussy.
In a panic, and with no other choice, I move my forearm to my mouth and bite, to keep from SCREAMING. My legs kicking wildly. Frantically. Looking for anyway to break free and stop your vicious, merciless assault.
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Ewa:
It’s back again… And ohhh… gawwddddd…. how fucking amazing is it to be back on familiar territory… That of pure, and utter LOATHING with you….
Two weeks ago…. On this fucking bed… We fought…. Like two bitches…. We fought HARD… A long, hour long gruelling battle…. I got my licks in… You got your licks in… We clawed and bit and writhed and cried and bled….
But I was victorious… I BROKE you…. Body first… Until you whimpered for me to stop…
But I didn’t… I fucked you… I fucked you and ripped that violent orgasm from you…. And I knew it would hurt you more… Than the entire fight….
And you paid me back… Tonight… Not once.. But twice… Dragging me to YOUR territory…. Relying on the weakness born from a teen-ager’s crush on you that lasted from puberty till the last day of school, when I finally gave up hope that you’d ever be mine…. When you played that cruel prank on me… Luring me to a warehouse with subtle hints and messages…. When you put a blind fold on me… And told me to get on my knees… And I did…. Only to feel that furry dog’s ass on my puckered lips…. And the crackling laughter of every boy and girl.. Dozens of them… The phones snapping pictures as I stared in shock at you, laughing, the school’s jock arm around you, picking you up, as you wrapped your legs around him, and made out…..
I stared in shock, my tears rolling down my cheeks as you turned your eyes and gave me a side look, but I didn’t see a smile in them… But no regret.. Just.. Pity…. as the two dozen cruel teens chanted the most horrific taunts about my sexuality… “DYKE… CARPET LICKER… DOG-FUCKER…”
And I grin even as your claw SLAPS at my thigh, CLAWING and raking at my skin, and I grimace, but I **PUMP** again and claw harder into your cunt, hearing your muffled squeel as you bite your own forearm….
But then your legs lift and start DRUMMING down on me… I twist my upper body more, but my left bracing the bed, the right refusing to give up it’s claw on your cunt, the only defense I have is to tuck my head in… And I feel a heel slamming into my right shoulder… Then another stomping on my right breast…. I yelp and flop to my back, bringing my left arm to cover my face, but a third stomp hits my forearm and SMASHES it into my already busted, bleeding lip, widening the cut and knocking my head back into the mattress… GROANING into my arm so I don’t wake up Cam… And then a forth stomp smashes into my clawed left tit and finally I yelp, releasing the pussy claw, and opening my legs, bending them, and I start to fire my own wild angry stomps on your body, as we lay on the bed, ass to ass, screeching and delivering angry stomping kicks blindly to the other in the dark…
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Amber:
I was cruel to you when we were younger. Not just cruel in a teenager sense. I was a monster. A heartless piece of shit. I tried to tell myself it wasn’t because I wanted to be, or because it felt good. But because it was what I needed to do to survive. To climb whatever social strata there was in a town like ours.
But I wasn’t the only one of us that was cruel. The only one that made mistakes. Yes, I put the final nail in our possible future’s coffin, but we had been hurting each other for years.
Like the time you found me kissing a boy beneath the bleachers, and the next day stole my car and hit him with it. Yeah, sure, he survived. And my friends talked him out of suing me. But he never talked to me again.
Then there was the time when our science teacher put us in a group and you stood up in front of the entire class, and said: “I’d rather be dead than partner with her. She’s a stupid slut!”
We were both caught. Both trapped. In this town. In each other’s lives. In feelings we didn’t understand for each other.
But that past, as painful as it was, is why we’re here. Why between your legs I’m writhing. Why you’re clawing at my swollen pussy, and I am biting my own arm to keep from screaming. Why I kick so hard that I risk breaking your face. Because I have no choice. No chance, other than to do exactly that.
Not once. Not twice. But again and again until finally I hit something. Then something else. Each blow changing your position and posture, and lessening the pain I feel, even if I can’t yet pinpoint which cruel assault is giving way and why.
Until finally, each savage attack you launch and landed ends, and a new series begin. Your own legs kicking down at me, as mine continue to kick at you. The feeling of your toned ass brushing against mine, before they meet in a full press. Our arms extending and hands reaching until we grab and clasp. Our kicking legs meeting at the feet. Soles pressing, and toes meeting and in part lacing. As kicks become a sudden test of strength.
Me trying to force your legs back, just as you try the same with mine. Our asses seeming to bond together as we growl and grunt. Curse and hiss through grit teeth. Our wet, raw pussies meeting once more. Leftover liquid lust seeping from each down to the battlefield below.
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Ewa:
We both grunt and moan…. Rage and frustration showing in every kick and stomp….. Oh, the history we have… The fucking goddamn history… Since I was 13 and felt those.. emotions.. Towards you… When I felt how… *different* I was from the rest, but felt that strong tug.. That longing in your young eyes…. Until that day we met after school… Me… Dressed in my emo-Goth outfit, you in your pretty white and pink cheer-leader outfit… A bigger mismatch never existing.. The only time for two girls like us to sneak behind the big Oak tree is one of two things… Either you’re buy drugs from me… Or we’re there to fight…
But it wasn’t… I was gushing… My words.. My emotions… Telling you what I felt towards you… Seeing the confusion in your eyes, but also the desire… Then… Having our first kiss.. One I forced, grabbing your head.. But fuck me.. I felt you.. I felt you MELTING into it… For nearly a long minute… As my tears rolled down my cheeks and my lips parted in a bright smile.. My first in years…. I felt happiness…
But it was only a minute, before your hands shoved me hard by my tits and I fell down.. Staring at you, as you wiped your lips and called me a stupid cunt… Screaming at me to not ‘confuse you’.. And that if I ever came close to you again you’d kill me.. then stormed away…
I was heart broken… But I never stopped craving you… Ever scar on my wrist, every cut on my thighs was because of you.. FOR you…
And look where we are now… On our backs on the same bed…. Our legs up in the air, soles pressing, toes interlocking, and we both strain and PUSH each other… The power in your dancer legs incredible…. And it causes us to slide on the sheets, but my hands swing and CLAP at your hips and thighs, gripping.. Feeling your fucking arms slapping at mine… And our fingers open, each grabbing the other by the forearm, as if we’re falling off a cliff and trying to hold on for life…
And we PULL each other again… Our thighs parted at an angle, enough for us to peek through our heaving cleavages, and see the other’s underboob and face… Teeth clenched… We grimace as our asses press, spreading each other… Our stars and pereneums locking together.. and we both let out a deep moan… But our claws just stab DEEPER into the other’s forearm… Slowly sliding with the sweat, carving skin, leaving very slowly growing red rakes on the flesh…. Our legs tensing, one foot pushing the other back, only for the other to retreat… Grimacing and battling with all our might….
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Amber:
We grasp hard. Digging our nails into the soft underside of each other’s forearms. Yes, to hurt. Yes, to warn. Yes, to punish. But also to keep the other not only near, but pulling together. A constant, forceful advance that puts every bit of pressure on the soles of our feet, and the warring lower-halves of our bodies.
Our sweat and sex-stained asses meeting and sliding. Gliding. Gripping and splitting between us. Providing tantalizing brushes of our already well-fed cunts. Which still hunger. Still NEED.
But not now. Not until we have taken out more of our hatred. More of our jealousy. More of our madness on each other. Two women locked in a war, not because they are too different. Not because they are too similar. But instead because they have nothing left.
No future. No hope. No careers. No family. No silver lining or light on the other side of the tunnel. Just this battle. Just two whores struggling and straining in a filthy bed. As the man who gives them a roof and food snores so loud that the tin walls around them shake.
And as he saws those logs, we growl and hiss in the lowest, most guttural voices possible. Firstly so that we don’t wake, but also because those are the depths we linger in.
The low and the filthy.
The deep and the desperate.
“I HATE YOU!” I snarl, as our legs pedal slowly and with haphazard force. One pair moving forward as the other moves back. Our lower-halves lifting off the bed and into the sex-scented air of the trailer.
“You bitch…. You ruined it…. This… My life…. EVERYTHING!” The words sputtering out, as tears roll down my cheeks. And though I feel a wave of emotions wash over me, all it does it drive me. Push me.to keep kicking. Keep pedaling. Keep trying to overcome you. Even as our nails dig deep into each other’s arms. The warmth of the blood that from those wounds spring joining the warmth between our legs, in this cold, cold world.
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Ewa:
“NNnnnnnnnnnnnnhhhhhhhhhh…”
All that can leave my bruised, bitten lips right now, is a moan….. The moan of someone who has been battered, used, and abused… Out in the rain and mud…. In the shower… Twice fucked and humiliated…. And yet.. Refusing to come to terms with it… Refusing to relent the pathetic advantage I lorded over you for the last few weeks… Because it was the first time in my life that I felt alive… That I felt I was *worth something*, so long I made sure you felt worth even **less**….
And now, seeing that sensation, that gloating pose fleeting… Wagering and losing it, my genes kick in… The ones that fueled every member of both sides of my family, that have them scrape their savings, every penny they slaved, sweated over, or simply scammed and stole from others…. Only to blow it over some slot machine in a sleezy casino…
I kept it rolling, taking my defeat outside, into another in the shower… And now… In bed… On our backs, legs up, feet pressed, paddling as our claws dig and carve down the others forearms… I pit my ass against yours… My cunt against yours… Moaning… Sobbing, feeling you grinding mercilessly back into me….
“I… hate… you.. **MORE**…” — I pant through clenched breath…. Your cheekier, thicker buttocks spreading… Spilling a bit outwards of my smaller pair…. Making me feel captured…. But the slickness, the non-stop seeping from the hot-springs between us, that oozes from our cum-slick vulvas, and down our pereneums, coating our puckers that press, massage the webbed skin around each others….. The tight holes getting packed with the slick sticky thickness, making soft **popping** sounds everytime our rears part, breaking the cum-diaphrams forming like a soap-bubble blower….
“You… You’re… the snake…. The…. cunt… that… deserves… nothing…. and just… wanted… to… ahh.. ahh.. Ruin…. My…. life…. but… ahh.. you… won’t….” — I don’t even know what I’m talking about… The delirium of the struggle, sending me into a non-sensical ramble… What life did I have to get ruined?? — What do I have left for you to take?? — Nothing… It’s why I’m here… On my back… On a dipshit’s pull-out sofa bed, fighting you.. Fucking you… Straining…. Because…. Whether I admit it or not, this is all I got…. Everything that makes me feel ALIVE….
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Amber:
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Ewa:
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Amber:
Harder and harder we grind. Using our rolling hips and shoving slits to try replace the words and discussion two sane women might use. I stab and you parry. You grind and I moan. Not caring in the slightest how hard we grip or deep our nails dig.
Focused on nothing else than overcoming, overwhelming, and outdoing each other. With our cycling feet, clashing kitten, and catching and popping nether entrances.
And though for so long that mutual pull and push continues, suddenly I feel the force you use disappear. No warning. No challenge. No dare. Just a sudden cessation that leaves all of my efforts to not keep you merely at bay, and in place, but instead in a yank up and forward.
Up, onto your ass, with your majestic breasts swinging through the air. And then finally, between my spread legs and onto me. Your body toping mine completely…. Entirely….
Your heavy tits pouring down on mine as if from a cup. Pinning me down, as you glare in the same direction into my eyes. There, even as we both continue to mumble and meander through memories, thoughts, and regrets, you lean down and bite me.
Your teeth sinking in to your chosen target, as once more, in that desperate scene we start to grind hatefully. Cunt to cunt. My hands letting go of your forearm, and latching at their talons into your back to claw.
“AAAiiiieeeehhhhh!!! BIIITCCCHHH!!! FUCK!!!! OOOWWEEEE!!!” I cry, as I writhe. Scream, in a painfully lowered volume, as you gnaw on me. My squirming body trapped and pinned. Sinking deep into the bed’s weak wire frame, that seems to create beneath and around me a perfect snare. One that keeps me buried in loathing, weakness, and an inability to do anything other than hurt you with my claws.
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Ewa:
My eyes shut tightly…. My mouth gaped wide… Saliva stretching in thick threads between my dry lips….. Trying to hold on.. To focus… But it feels like I’m in a battle with a machine… And despite the slow, steady flow seeping out of your labia, I know mine is stronger…
And with the prospect of gushing a third time… I just… Rebel… Damn fairness and damn YOU…. I pull my hips back, letting your curvy, heart-shaped ass push me on the damn, dirty sheets one last time and I don’t return… I pull on your arms, crunching my abs to sit up, and I LAUNCH myself on you, landing on your kitty with my ass, feeling your clit thrusting and poking at my rosebud and I meowl, kicking my legs back and FLOPPING down on you… Tit to tit…. Face to face.. Belly on belly, and with a venomous snarl I hiss…
“Fuck… **YOU**….” — The fury in my eyes… The fury of how much I hate you… How sexy you are… How dirty you are… How you’ve been DEFYING and BESTING me… Makes my teeth SNAP and bite at your right jaw… Hearing you screech and meowl… PUSHING my tits into yours and grinding my labia against you…
Your arms loop around me, your nails STAB into my back and you CARVE down… I wince through the bite… My legs outside yours, curling around yours, our ankles locking… But you BRIDGE up, lifting your ass off the sheets and with a twist, clinging on to me, you barrel roll us over and I’m suddenly beneath you, and you are GRINDING down into me….
My teeth remain clamped on you… Hot gusts of breath blasting through my teeth and nostrils against your tear and sweat stained face…. My arms slipping up around you, and I STAB my nails into your scalp, not even bothering to pull hair.. No.. I PUSH the claws into the back of your head, growling as I tense my legs and GRIND back up into you, our tits smothering each other, spilling outwards… Hard nipples gouging….. And with a violent TWIST of my hips I send us rolling back where we came from…. Hissing and drooling on your jaw…
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Amber:
Did I expect us to remain there? Grinding? Ass to ass and cunt to cunt? Pedaling our legs back and forth as we growl and gouge at each other’s skin. Yes. But not because of logic or reason, instead because … of the sensation of it. The pleasure and the pain of it.
The thought of hurting you.
Of fucking you.
Of using my body to best and break yours. To use my will and womanhood to conquer the woman who had always stood in my way. Focuses derived from the high of having made you cum twice. Victories which left me drunk on the excitement of humiliating you, just as you had done to me.
But that expectation was foolish. And just as I would have done to you, had I thought of it, you suddenly give way, and then use my applied pulls to rise up and dive atop me.
Your busty body crashing down on mine and locking me into a hell of my own making. Just as you had that night when we first fought. The night you ruined and ravaged me and then spent every moment thereafter reminding me how completely you owned and thereafter own me.
And yet, despite my placement. Despite my disadvantage. Despite the nearly floor-deep dip in the bed, I fight you with everything I have. Driving up. Driving up and into you until I turn us. Up and over. FORCING you to your back as I top you. “You’re MINE BITCH!” I snarl as I start to grind my cunt into yours, while lifting my upper body and crashing my breasts down against your own marvelous pair in hard, clapping, echoing collision of flesh.
That’s when you snap. Catching my jaw between your teeth and digging the nails on your hair-wrapped hands into my scalp. I try to cry out! To announce my utter shock and pain, but when I do, I feel you start to fuck me.
And at that application of your clit against mine, I gasp and moan. MY focus broken. My attacks ceased, as I feel you drag and thrust – stab and drive your pussy into mine.
I want to fight you. NEED to fight you. But all I can do at that moment is moan, as my eyes fill with tears. You’re fucking me. Fucking me from beneath, where I should have the advantage, and yet that advantage seems to be all yours.
You curse at me and I whimper. Insult me, and I nod. Then in a flash you twist and roll us, and once more I am trapped beneath you. Buried in the bed and your body. My mind tells me to bite you back, and I swear I try, but when I do, all that happens is that I seem to … to … kiss your biting lips.
I hate you. I HAVE to break you. But all my body and mind allow me to do at that moment is give in as pleasure wells deep within me. Leaving me to want one thing more than anything else in the world. To cum for you. To break, even though I should want everything else but that.
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Ewa:
We’re both running on fumes… But fuck me, I’ve been feeling that way since the moment we rolled apart from our catball in the mud…. Rose up, panting, and you give me that ‘glare’… That screamed ‘you couldn’t fucking break me bitch….’ — And we pounced again…. Taking our fight from the vicious slashing, slapping, pawing and biting, into his feral mating dance….
I thought I expended the second wind, when you got off me, spitting down on me, as I laid flat and leg-spreaded, bitch-fucked in the mud…. I thought I expended my third wind, when I slumped down to the floor of the shower, sobbing from the PAIN in my beaten pussy, that traitor, that did not stop pulsating and gushing my cum over you… Announcing that it would take that pain for the rest of its life, so long you make me cum that hard….
So what, if I feel my fourth wind nearly expended…. Clinging on to you as you POUND me into the bed.,. Lifting your chest and HAMMERING your tits into my own…. Reminding me.. Reminding me, that whereas I have the better pair in any room; this one is not one of them…. Because you exist… And your marvelous, perfect, massive pair is filling the same space, challenging and daring mine….
I cling to your jaw with my teeth…. My claws digging into your scalp… Feeling it… Feeling you place me into that abyss again….. Overpowering me and slamming your cunt into mine…. But whether its the numbness caused by orgasming twice so violently… Or pure stubborness, I just CLING to you like a face-hugger in alian… With arms, legs, and teeth…. Taking your abuse, your onslaught, which feels it will never stop until I explode a third time….
But instead, as our clits stab and drag, as our labia SPLATTER cum on our spread thighs with every impact… You begin to shudder, your lips begin to purse and bite at my jaw and chin…. You meowl, and I twist my hips rolling you over… Getting atop of you…
My first action, is to unlock our ankles, and slide my legs from their outer tangle with yours, to an inner one.. Pushing my knees against the inside of your legs, spreading you further, my toes clawing at the sheets, forcing your legs to spread and lift… Your toes now in the air… My femurs pushing under yours, spreading you like a whore getting missionary-fucked…
My hands, slipping down to yours, grabbing your wrists…. Shoving them with what little strength I have, over your head… Crossing your ankles and pushing them on the golden weaves of your strewn hair…. And leaving my right hand down, to hold them pinned… In the ‘helpless maiden’ pose… I slide my left down, under your left thigh, and I invasively slide my fingers into your crack… My fingers in a feverish race against each other to find your pucker… A competition that my pinkie wins, as it presses, circles and PLUGS your rosebud…. As my sex continues its onslaught on yours… SLAMMING and POUNDING your gold-tipped fortress… Feeling our furrs tangle and tug at each other with every separation…
“No… huff huff bitch.. You’re… mine… MINE…. Not… By.. Choice… You’re mine… huff huff… Because… I…. Can…..”
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Amber:
I try to push through it.
Push past the unbelievable fatigue that seems to grow exponentially with every passing second.
To force my exhausted body to return to hurting you. To ignore the pleasure and the collected pain you have inflicted upon me so that we can keep fighting. Cunt to cunt, body to body, and claw to claw.
But no matter how deep I look – or how hard I try to muster that effort, I find only the strength to grind against you. As you roll me. As you top me. As you spread my legs and shove them into the air. And then, and even more so, when I feel you slip your fingers beneath your grinding hope and into my darkstar.
When you do I cry out in a soft, strengthless moan. Primal instinct keeping my hips thrusting and my pelvis firing, even as every light in my mind shuts down and shuts off. Until I find myself looking up at your beautiful face. My eyes glistening with a genuine desire, but also a soul-deep loathing.
Only you could do this to me. Only you could endure my hate. Withstand my every assault. Take me to the very depths of hell. And then not only survive, but make me…. Force me to….
I flare at the very idea! Writhe and bridge! Trying to get you off of me. Not so I can escape. But instead so I can get on top of you. So I can taste the same victory I have twice on this night. To see you humiliated and shattered. To feel that exhilaration of conquering the one person in my life that sees me as a rival, as an enemy, as ANYTHING more than a piece of gutter trash.
But instead, as beneath you I struggle and strain, it is you who is watching my face contort. You who is feeling my strength fail and a stirring weakness take hold.
I hate you for it. I despise you for being strong enough to do this to me. To make my body sing and spiral into such a bottomless see of pleasure that I moan for you. Whimper for you. Beg, even as you tell me I am yours.
“No….” I mutter weakly.
“No….” I whisper as you drive me further and further into oblivion.
My arms pinned above my head as I feel your clit sliding up and down next to mine. Two parallel tracks causing friction and fire and …. “FUUUUUCCCKKKK!!! YOU BITCH!!!! AAAAHHHHHH!!!! NNNOOOOOO!!!!” Then it breaks.
The dam. My final walls of defense. Each shattering as I cum for you. Like a slut. Like a bitch. All as you tell me I am yours, and all I can do in response is cum for you.
“FUCK!!!!!” FUCK!!!!!” God it’s incredible. Indescribable! Not just the pleasure as it washes over me in one wave after another, my body tensing and shaking beneath you. But also the shame. The regret. The self-loathing. The you-loathing.
And as I have done to you, and you to me, each time one of us has released, you pull your cunt back and away. Keeping it from me, despite my efforts to grind against it. Making me cum alone.
Denying me the vindication of pulling you over the same ledge with me. Even though you suffer in said malice. Your lips letting loose bleats of denied pleasure and frustration that you could not cross that same threshold. Your fingers, which did such incredible work on my nether entrance withdrawing slowly. Teasingly. Smearing my own liquid lust on my alabaster ass cheeks, before it begins.
A moment of inaction. Your right cheek pressed to mine as we lay there in the quiet night. My body conquered. Broken by you, my greatest enemy. Arms pinned above my head and too weak to break free. Until finally I feel your strength spent holding them ebb, and I am able to shift my body beneath you and roll you off of me.
There we lay next to each other. Breathing hard. Breathing heavy. Our massive chests heaving as we try to regain any strength and energy that we can. Until finally you move to your knees. I try to follow you. To rise along with you, but when I do you reach your left hand out and shove me back to the bed. All before that same hands moves to my soaking cunt to gather every drip of essence that it can. Fingers closing together as they form a cup to scoop.
I watch you, as you did this. Glare at you, with tired eyes, as you collect your ichorus victory and then bring it back to your body. There, you smear it across your perfect tits like war paint. Not in a quick wipe, but in a slow application. Spreading my cum and sweat across and around your tits until they are covered and shimmering in the moonlight that pears through the window.
If I weren’t me and you weren’t you, that act might have seemed strange or unimportant. But to me. To US…. It is a challenge. A gauntlet. One that makes perfect sense how little energy we have left and how many separate winds we have used up.
And in the wake of all of that I rise to my knees in front of you. Glaring at you and your divinely shaped tits. Not needing to speak what I know or to accept when you are more than aware that I will. Instead, through moonbeam that sits between us at an angle, I strike. Throwing a punch at your right breast. Feeling my knuckles sink into soft, wet flesh.
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Ewa:
I’m petty…. Because you’re petty… I’m vindictive… Because you are vindictive… We’re both that way, because… we have nothing else in life…. We go about our way…. Slaving off to that asshole sleeping and snoring inside…. Just because we need his roof over our heads… Fetching him beers when he asks to… Sitting quietly on the couch while he watches his Wrestling, silent, as he fondles our boobs and shoves his fingers inside our shorts… Submissively getting on all fours to feel his ropey dick thrust inside us…. Hating that the other is there, watching us… But also feeling that tinge of glee, that he picked us, not the other…. Sucking his cock, and washing off the taste with a cigarette….
We have absolutely nothing in life, but spiting each other…. Hating each other…. Hurting each other… Humiliating each other… It’s the only escape.. The only ‘value’ we have… In this twisted, fucked up relationship…. And I guess we both would rather be hated; than being utterly worthless… We’ll accept hatred as the only human connection; over having none at all…
And yes… My pettiness is making me keep score…. And now… Only now… We’re even…. I beat you in the first catfight… Then you fucked me like a whore twice… And now… I fucked you… It’s 2-2… For whatever it matters… And it’s what makes me fight against every desire to just explode, pulling my hip up… To protect my pussy, that would just explode if you were to as much blow on it… My breasts, pressing hard on yours…. Grimacing as you shudder and SQUIRT up at my thighs, praying that I can hold on….. Making me GRIND my chest more into yours…. My breasts mushroomed, but yours are pancaked…. Glaring into your face, as you begin to scream and I cover your mouth with mine, thrusting my tongue rudely down your throat, to muffle your cries, and ensure that you do not wake him up…
Then… Slumping off you, I collapse to my side… Staring up at the ceiling… Blankly… And immediately… Instantly.. As our combat subsides…
I feel invisible again… I feel… worthless.. again….
“fuck… you…. cunt… I’m… better…” — I spit the words out… Hoping they return any pleasure to me…
But they don’t…. Because… we’re even…. Because you did that to me, in the mud, and in the shower….. And I hate… Being even with you….
You just whimper and moan… Saying nothing…. And then, I slide up to my knees… Watching you twist, grovel pathetically.. But still, it shocks me that you can even more… Let alone rise, and as your hand presses on the sheets I grab it and YANK it from under you, sending you flopping down, face and tits into the stain of cum on the sheets…. Grinning with glee… The pleasure returning… Because I’m treating you like the TRASH that you are….. The trash that everything and everyone, treats me like…
You roll to your back, staring at me with a furious glare, and I return it by SLAPPING your tender pussy.. You moan and I cup it, wiping as much cum as I can, and slowly, I smear it on my chest, staring at you… Grinning evily…. my fingers flicking my stiff nipples…. Taunting you.. Watching you grit your teeth, and stare at at me…
Then, slowly, you roll to your belly again, planting your elbows into the sheets… And you strain to rise up… I grin.. This time, deciding I’ll wait till you’re almost up, before shoving my cum-smeared palm in your face to send you down again… To toy with you… Treat you like the worm that you are…
But you don’t rise fully… You just get your knees under you, on all fours, almost like you’re about to eat my pussy…..
But instead, you LAUNCH yourself like a torpedo, your left fist flying and it CRASHES into my right breast….
“AAHHHWIIIEEEHHH!!”
My eyes explode with tears, screeching as my body recoils to the right, but your fist slams in, diving into the flesh, flattening my gland and i YELP in pain, falling backwards… My shoulder blades hanging off the bed, and I thrash, sliding off and crashing to the floor with a THUD
My hands cupping my left tit as I twist and writhe on the floor in pain, biting my bottom lip to muffle the cries of pain… Rolling over and pressing my face into the dirty carpet… As you watch me from the bed, with a vicious grin on your face…
With a grimace of pain, I get my knees under me, lifting up… My ass in the air… Turned to you.. You can see my slick cunt between my thighs… And I GASP as I feel your hand reaching over the edge of the bed and you SLAP my cunt… rubbing and cupping some cum in your hands… And I turn to you, I see you rubbing it over your tits… With a vicisous glare in your eyes…
Without words, I slowly turn and crawl to the bed, my pussy trembling, still feeling your phantom fingers over it, and I grab the sheets with my left claw…. Panting…. But you don’t move back… You’re kneeling on the edge of my bed.. Denying me climbing up on it…
And that’s just fine by me…. No one moves out of their way for me in life anyways…. I have to fucking… CARVE my way out…
“GRARRGGGHH!!” — I roar and YANK on the sheets of the futon to give myself any extra bit of leverage and momentum.. My body pushing up, my right fist clenched, and I SMASH it into the underside of your left tit, trying to uppercut it back up into your fucking face…..
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Amber:
As children we all had them. Our blankies. Tattered fabric that we had in our cribs that we clung to for far too long. Carrying it with us as toddlers and as children, and then keeping the, on our bed in our teens. Sure ours were stained with Natural Ice beer and burned with cigarette stains from our “parents”, but we loved them. We needed them to feel safe and secure. We hung onto them because they let us remember a time when we at least felt like we were loved, even if that was a youth-blurred illusion.
But eventually we lost those blankies. Someone stole them, or they got tossed out with whatever toys our parents took from us.
And now, the same pain we felt when we lost those security blankets, we feel now as you roll off of me. Each of us losing the only connection we have ever had with another person. Both the connection of your body pressed to mine, but also, in our moment of recovery, the fire that binds us.
We two wasted souls too week to get back to the feud that fires us. That is until we rise, and you cup and coat your breasts. That is until I send you falling off the bed with a wild strike at your tit, and then collect that same collection of liquid form your quivering and thirsty cunt so I can do the same.
Then, with you on the floor, and me on the bed, I feel, despite my all too recent defeat, the high ground. You have to get passed me to get back up. And we both know it.
I see in your eyes an ask. It is layered beneath fire. Beneath loathing. Beneath challenge. But it’s there. It would be fair to let you back up. It would give you nothing, save for the chance to start another war with me. But I still refuse. Keeping my place in your way. Moving with you, left and right, as I try to block your advance. Until finally you strike. Driving your fist up and into my heavy left tit, which then rebounds up and into the underside of my chin.
The blow makes me yelp, and then fall back. My place between you and the futon stolen away! But I won’t let you! Can’t allow you to get on! So I start to kick, my left foot catching your right breasts, just as you try to climb up between my legs.
At the contact of heel against flesh, I hear you yelp, just as I did. And then, filled with anger, we both scramble to get back up. Me to my knees, and you from the floor and after me. But at the end of those simultaneous efforts we lunge. Me off the bed at you, and you up, not expecting me to have come to join you.
In the air we collide and wrap our limbs around each other. Hissing hatefully. “I’ll destroy your tits, EWA!” I rage as turn and spin. Crash to the carpeted floor and then separate. Making our ways back to our knees and then striking. Throwing punches. My left fist at your right breast, and your right fist at my left.
The blows land and sting, but they only drive us to punch again and again. Harder and harder as our soft fleshy tits suffer blow after blow.
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Ewa:
Where have you gone, oh my previous pink blankie, with your yellow streaks, and blue dot that pierce my soul??
You’re all I have anymore… Even though you have me… Even though I will continue to sink my claws and fangs into you, tearing you, until you’re nothing but threads falling apart in my grasp… And I’m shredded beyond redemption, melting in your cruel vicious paws and fists…
I strike you back… And you fly back on the bed…. With a loud, yet, unsatisfying grunt…. The hard mattress of the pull-out sofa not giving you any bounce back… My left paw clawing, tugging , trying to slide myself up… My trembling thighs struggling, burning with effort from our night-long battle… Pushing myself up, only to feel your left foot crashing into my right breast, and I yelp, falling back to the floor….
Ah, there is it… My fifth wind…. I feel it… As the agony in my right gland feeling like there is red hot lump of coal burrowed inside my breast, burning and searing my flesh, wakes back, makes me spring up to my knees, watching you too rise with the same drunken haze, growling and pouncing…
Had this been a fight against another hooker or stripper…. We would have laid down… I know that…. I’ve been in plenty…. The kind of fights you have to go into them because of pride, because of how loud our barks are… But after few blows…. You stop… Because the point is proven…. Even if there is no winner, at least, we’d both have stood our ground, glared, and agreed that whatever triggered them has been settled…. To not ever be brought up again, with new lines drawn in the sand…
But not this.. Not with you… I’ll fight you… I’ll fight you until my vision turns black… Until my arms can no longer lift… until my heart explodes….
I fly towards you, but your downward pounce wins, and we crash back, your right knee smashing into my left thigh… My right wedging into your belly, barely monkey flipping you off me as we spring up to our knees, and our fists PLOW into each other’s breasts…. And I YELP as you land the THIRD blow against my right breast, and I do the SECOND against your left…
Whiimpering I recoil back…… And you swing a fourth one, that I shamefully put my right arm in its way, blocking it, grunting even as my forearm smashes into my wounded breast, and your knuckle glides up, landing a hard ‘tap’ against the flesh… Before unfurling, and swinging my right square into your left breast, scoring my third, hearing you meowl in pain, and following with my left, but you twist your body, and it glances against your side and slides against your back…. As you untwist, and SMASH your left fist into my right breast a FOURTH time… Making me CRY out, but I don’t fall back, instead, collapse into you, with your small left knuckle BURIED between our tit flesh…..
My right arm looping around you, clinging on to you in a punch drunk boxer, my left hand swinging up in a weak punch against the side boob of your right breast, but I dont get any satisfaction from the ‘ungh’ leaving your lips…
So, I open my left hand, slipping it between us, grabbing as much flesh as I can on the front of your left breast and I **SQUEEEEEEEEEEZEEEEE** hard, digging my finger tips and nails into the flesh… Meowling in pain..
“ARRGHH… Fuck… Your.. TITS!!”
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Amber:
Over and over again it overcomes us. Exhaustion.
Pure, unending fatigue.
Fatigue so heavy and burdensome that we each feel as if we may never move again. Never wake from whatever loathing-laced slumber we slip into. But then it comes. A comment. A look. A brush. And we suddenly feel strong. Suddenly feel bold. Suddenly feel like we can and will do ANYTHING to overwhelm each other.
That’s the sensation when I launch myself from the bed.
That’s the certainty as we crash together and writhe mid-air.
That’s the future we know is ours as we crash down to the floor and trade blows back and forth. Knuckles driving into each others tits after dodges, blocks and parries.
That’s the fate we look towards as our poor tits suffer one knuckle-led collision after another.
But with each wind we catch and expend, the end of it comes sooner. And this wind is even worse. Fading and falling from our grasp in the blink of an eye, as suddenly we’re leaning against each other. Our fingers latched onto each others tits as we squeeze, grope, and knead. Forehead pressed as we hiss and glare.
“My tits…. are … better….” I mutter, as hatefully I look soul-deep into your eyes. My commends driven by the knowledge that they aren’t and that I’m lying.
“And I’ll…. Make you … admit it….” I spit, as before my eyes clothes and I cry out in pain from the terrible onslaught you unleash between us.
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Ewa:
I know that feeling… That jealousy that fills you… That I saw in your eyes… When you lucked out with that John, that picked off your corner, and decided to give you a meal, so he brought you to my club…. The first time I saw you in a year or so… And you were, dressed like the whore I always knew you were… The whore that the teachers at school were blind to, using you as a measuring stick to all other girls as we grew up… Acting like you were a perfect little angel…
And yet, it brought me no satisfaction to find myself to be right.. I already knew… I had already felt the dagger, drive into my heart…. Time and again and again… Whether you twisted it or not… Everytime I saw you making out with a jock, or getting yourself drunk stupid and reamed at a party, limping down the stairs with cum streaming down your thighs…
When you were a whore with everyone… But me… The one who desired you the most…
I glared at you as your small dress barely hid your body more than mine, as I danced and swung topless around the pole…. I stared at the contempt in your eyes at my breasts.. The same contempt I loathed your own pair with…. For different reasons… You hated my size… I hated your shape and firmness…. Not that you weren’t used to being the bustiest girl in any room…
Any room, that I’m not in, however…
And we unleash that fury and frustration…. Fists hammering into breasts.. You focusing my right one…. Me your left… Until we collapse and start using our fingers… Ten claws sunk into each of us as we squeal… Chins resting on the others shoulders…. Buried in the others hair…. Our thighs trembling, our buttocks clenched, pushing with our legs as we try to inflict more punishment….
“Nn…Noo… They’re… Not…” — I gasp defiantly back, as you grind your temple into mine enough till our heads turn and we stare into the other’s eyes… And then you SPIT at me… Hitting my lips… And I sneer, my tongue slipping out, LAPPING your saliva, then swishing it in my mouth beforeSPITTING it back at you…
And with utter loathing, like two Cobras spitting their venom at each other…. We keep spitting… Mauling… Kneading… I grimace as I slide my thumb and index fingers closer, trapping your stiff, long nipples, and I PINCH them… Trapping them like a vice, then I begin to SHAKE my out-warrd thrust elbows outwards… Like broken wings of a grounded bird unable to take flight… Twisting your entire mams and rubbing your nipples ruthlessly….
“I’ll…. Never… Lose… To… Your.. Weak… Pair…”
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Amber:
There are moments in life that happen, and then they are with you forever. Encounters that sear themselves into your memory like a hot cattle brand. The kind that haunt you not only in nightmares, but in dreams.
The kind that come back to you in the middle of the day, and make your cheeks flush and your eyes close.
And though I have many. Though WE have many … moments with each other that in this reality went right, when in every other they went left. There is one that floods my mind as on the carpet we pry and squeeze on each other’s breasts.
It was in that god forsaken club. The one I tried for years to avoid, but ended up working at, just like you. The one where I suffered all manner of indignities, that I have learned to block out. But one of those few that I couldn’t just bury in my subconscious was the first night. After my dance. I was walking back to the dressing room and you were there waiting for me in the hall.
I tried not to meet your gaze with mine, and though I didn’t, as soon as I was going to pass you, you grabbed me and pushed me against the wall. I looked up and you and you leaned in. So close. So fucking close I could taste your breath. So near I could smell the last vestiges of the perfume you tried to wear to block out all the cigarette smoke.
Then you whispered to me. “My tits are better than yours.”
God, I can hear those words now. Ringing in my ears like the sound after a grenade goes off. In that moment, I was not as brave or as bold as I am now, and so I when I tried to speak, nothing came out. Just a quick popping of my lips, and then nothing.
But then you leaned in further, and drug your bare gorgeous breasts against mine. At the gentle brush I gasped, and then you spoke again. “Better. Than. Yours….” You hissed again, and when you did I shuddered. Shuddered and then hardened. Shook and then let my eyes turn into a glare.
“Fuck you. No they’re not.” I snarled before you spit in my face.
“Mine are better.” I added before I spit back.
And though the rest of that moment is no less bright in my mind. No less haunting. No less defining for us.
We now reenact that spitting. On our knees in this broken down, filthy trailer. Grabbing and groping. Kneading and scratching. Until finally our index fingers and thumbs catch on each other’s nipples and we start to PINCH.
Cruelly. Terribly. As we swap saliva. Not in a kiss, but in a back and forth trade of the liquids that coat our mouths.
All as you tell me your tits won’t lose to mine, and I reply. “My tits are … owe owe … stronger now. I’m … FUCK … stronger….” I tell you, in bleated out barely-there brags.
Certain that the woman you met in that hallway was half the woman I am now.
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Ewa:
I stripped and whored myself…. You whored yourself and stripped…. Both circling life’s drain, like the two pieces of shit that it made us to be…. Worthless… Yet blessing us with these looks that has made us nothing but pieces of meat to others…. Our curses…
I hate my beauty… I have my breasts.. I hate my ass and pussy…
And perhaps, that’s why, I throw myself at you…. Because I know how you will mistreat them… Hurt them.. Punish them… As if in any way, it would purify and cleanse them from the forest of fingeres that groped and touched them… The ocean of cum that sprayed over every inch of me….
I wonder if you ever understood how it feels… How I feel…. And are trying to help me?? —
HAH… Help.. No.. You’re probably just like me… Trying to make me scream, hurt… To marr my perfection with your claws and take my beauty as many notches down…. While proclaiming yourself to be better… As we are doing now…
My head arches back yelping in pain… Meowling as I feel you twisting my nipples… Grimacing and snarling at me…. Telling me that your’e stronger.. Better than you used to be…. Your hip.. THRUSTING into mine, out of nowhere… Your pelvis crashing into mine… And I feel a SHUDDER as your clit barely touches mine but it sends a jolt, that makes me rear back.. ANd I fire my hip blindly forwards…
But you keep yours away… And as I miss, you THRUST again.. PLOWING into my sex and clit and I YELP as I fall backwards, my ass landing on my ankles, trapping me, and spreaidng your thighs you PUSH yourself forwards, despite my protests and meowls and you LAND on my lap.. Seated atop of me, your hips GRINDING down… Giving me a ferocious lap dance, while we MAUL each others tits viciously..
“Ahh.. Awhh.. AIIEEH!!” I yelp and lose my grip on your nipples, and you immedately grab my wrists and push them down, THRUSTING into me, smashing your tits into mine and driving me down to my back…..
My legs still folded under me… And your thighs press down, to ensure I remain like this, as you push my wrists down ot the carpet, lifting your battered chest and start SLAMMING down on mine…. My head tossing right and left, your spit flying everywhere, splatting on the dirty carpet, adding even more stains to the countless mystery ones….
“Ahhh.. Aww… Fuck… Fuck..!! AWWHHH!!” — Your breasts keep crushing mine… Compressing them to my ribs… And I keep yelping… Helpless as you go on the onslaught… Your words on repeat… “My tits are better… Stronger…”
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Amber:
In that hallway I knew, from the very moment you pushed me against that wall, your breasts were better. Bigger. Stronger. The kind men drool over. The kind met covet, even if they leave comments on X about firmness and placement.
I tried to tell you mine were better. Tried to tell you mine were stronger. But I knew, and so did you, that there was more to our jealousies than just shape and consistency. And though we both understood that, and knew that of the two of us, you had the stronger will and more practiced ways, we still chose to test. Chose to stand. Chose to compete with assets that might be equal, but wills that were not.
And just like then, though I tell you that things this time will be different, I can see it in your eyes. Feel it in your glare. You’ve played this game more than I have. Fought a battle like this more times than I. And so, even as I grab and pinch – pry and pull … I try to think of some way of overcoming your advantage. Some method by which I can even the playing field. And so I slam my hips forward, as we try to ruin each others tits. Hoping, that just like I have so many times in today’s battles, that I can get an edge and take our fight from violence to pleasure. Malice to making you cum for me.
So I fire forward with my lower half. Once and again. Once and again. Getting just enough contact between my clit and yours to make your focus fade and your attention move from hurting me to withstanding my sensual onslaught.
And when you do, I feel everything begin sliding my way. Your digits dithering, your squeezing stilling, and your eyes which once burned with so much fire that I almost feared you, to glassing over and then closing.
All of which pushes me to continue slamming my hips forward. Catching the tip of your kitten with mine once and then again. Once and then again. Until finally you collapse to your back on the floor, in the worst possible way. Your legs pinned behind your svelte thighs, keeping them from bringing you back up, but also angling your upper body back so that when I collapse atop you and start to slam my tits down on yours, you are helpless to get back up.
And so without mercy or pause, I do just that. Slam. again and again. My tits crashing down atop yours, as I fuck you. Grinding my soaking pussy into yours, as I reach my left hand around our bodies, and slip my index finger into your own precious nether. Slowly. Methodically. My entire body aiding in my all out assault. All of it meant to make you cum one last time. And to take our even score and push it into my favor. Just as your beautiful gorgeous tits gave you that same favor in the hall.
All while I tell you my pair is better. No less a lie than every other time I have spoken those words. yt
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Ewa:
Ewa
Once again, I find myself pinned under you… And the irony, is that it’s not out in the mud where my heels kept slipping, not giving me any footing to fight you off… I could say its because of my folded legs….. I could make a thousand lies, but none would be the truth..
It’s because I’m beaten like a dog… Like a BITCH…. Your body… Your ferocity… Your rage… Your determination… Your fists… Your fingers… Your own goddamn tits, have worn me out….
And in a reverse of how I pinned you on the bed, with my tits compressing yours, and my pussy pounding you down…. You do the opposite…
Your cunt grinds down on me… Keeping my lower half trapped that way… And you begin to lift your chest and SLAM it down on me… Over and over and over…
Loud, wet, sweaty SMACKS of flesh connecting, spreading, punishing, and crushing rival flesh fill the air… My cries turning to wheezes…. Your pretty soft golden hair, barely air dried from the shower keeps slapping on my face…. As I SUCK it in my mouth with every breath that I try to retake, only to get blown off with your next slam…
“Owww.. Owww. Uuugghh.. Awwwwwwwwwwwwhhhh…”
“My… Tits… Are… Better… You… Pathetic.. Cunt… Stronger…” — Repeating it like a mantra…
“Nnn-nooooo… aww awww aww… get off meeeeee….”
“I’ll… never… its… my… place… on ur… loser… pathetic… inferior… ass…”
“Awwwww..fuuuckkk.. sta–awwwhhh–staaaahhpp!”
I whine and cry but you don’t stop… The lifting and thumping has slowed down… Your muscles are weary…. And what took place once every second, is now turning to one vicious SLAM every ten……
But it doesn’t stop… You don’t…
Neither does your cunt stop inning and grinding on mine….
ANd then you feel it.. As you hear my voice turn into a sobbing, pathetic whine carrying the gasps and moans…
The third.. orgasm… That rips from deep within me…. Weak…. Barely noticed, as its not as explosive as the ones before it…. But its begins to strength… And ramp up.. No squirting… But a steady flow, like a tide… Washing down my thighs…. And smearing against your flesh….
“F…F…Fuuuckk… stop… please… your…. tits are… better… stronger… just… get… off me… you.. biiiitch…” — I whimper, begging…. My body relaxed… Not even fighting…. I have none left in me…
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Amber:
In the mud, I fucked you to orgasm. In the shower I devoured your cunt until you couldn’t fight back. Ripping another orgasm from you as you slowly collapsed atop me.
Each victory was satisfying. Each release was decisive and cruel in its own delicious way.
But neither compares to this moment. A moment in which I batter your tits and tasty cunt with my own. Again and again. All as I explore your forbidden entrance. Using each and every attack to take you from assault, to endurance, to orgasm, and then as FAR past as I possibly can.
Not so that I can then soften and relent. Not so that I can keep thrusting and fuck you until I reach my own climactic orgasm.
No, it’s for these cries. This please. To hear you beg me to stop and for me not to. To see your eyes dim and talons retract. You area hellcat. An ice queen. A catfighter to your very fucking core, and I have made you cave. Made you give. Made you BEG me to fucking stop.
And instead of relenting, I drag my exhausted, battered, carved up body up yours and then sit on your stomach. Raising into a straddle, and then as your eyes close and arms drop to the floor without intention or aim, I slap you.
Once and then twice. Grabbing for your hair with my left hand when your face turns away from me, so that with my right I can once more slap you. In that quiet stillness that surrounds us, as our shared man snores away, I hear you sobbing.
Sniffling.
And at the sound, I flare with anger.
“Fuck … you, Ewa. FUCK … YOU.” I growl like an animal, though keeping my voice low and for only you.
At the words I see one of your arms raise weekly, and when it does I grab it harshly, and slam it down behind your head. “I could have loved you….” My jaw is crooked as I speak and then lean down. Spitting in your face, which I still force to look up at me. The spittal hanging from my lips in a long, unbroken line that ends in a pool on your face.
“We–we could have protected each other.” I continue my words that sound so beautiful, but come in hellish hisses. Sounds that surround as that long drip of spit snaps, and then I lean down even further.
“We could have had this….” On I go, before I press my lips to yours and forcibly, hatefully kiss you. Feeling nothing back in return. No movement of lips or tongue, until finally I feel you respond. And the second you do I shift upward, breaking our kiss, and burying your face in my tits.
My better. Stronger tits. At least for tonight.
There I keep you for seconds that lead onto minutes. Minutes that gather around us until I feel your body stop moving and hear your sobbing stop. It is only then that pull myself back and up, and then stand above you.
Placing my foot on your chest as I glare down at you before muttering. “Bitch….” With that final coda offered, I move back to our bed – My bed. Looking to get a good night’s sleep, knowing how terribly I will be treating you until the next time we writhe.
To Be Continued in Chapter 3. Coming soon to Fights.Sexy!
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