With the conclusion of the Championship Tournament, life at the Academy had once again settled into a familiar, calm state. For the preceeding month or two we’d been experiencing a rather tumultuous period of sudden coups and unpredictable changes in leadership, but all that now seemed to have given way to a return to the old order. My girlfriend Fleur’s stable rule of the titfighting circle had endured for almost a year until she finally (and as it turned out, very temporarily) lost her crown in mid November. I was feeling hopeful that her second reign would continue until our graduation, roughly six months from now.

It was unfortunate that last Saturday’s tournament hadn’t been quite as decisive as I’d expected, leaving some unanswered questions and a number of personal scores to settle. Two of the participants were thoroughly unsatisfied with their tie – and also resentful for the subsequently missed opportunity to face my girlfriend – while the third contestant was likely to be already preparing for a rematch. Ginny had succumbed to the current boob queen only by the narrowest of margins, and could harbour realistic hopes of turning the tables in the future. But we would worry about that after Christmas. For now, Fleur had every right to enjoy her rightful place at the top of the food chain.

The French girl’s swift climb back onto her old throne also seemed to confirm what many had already suspected; that Fleur’s shocking defeat against the busty first-year Lavender some weeks ago had been solely due to the damage her boobs had suffered while battling another firsty, Susan, in an earlier match. My girlfriend had struggled for much of that encounter, Susan’s massive mammaries threatening to overwhelm Fleur’s firm but more compact pair, and though the blonde beauty had eventually succeeded in grinding her rival out, the fight had left her rack in a significantly weakened state. When my girlfriend had faced Lavender just one week later, her presumably still-recovering flesh had proved unable to contain the opposing set.

It was of course pure speculation to say that if Fleur had waited another week and allowed her breasts more time to heal, the result would’ve been different. There was no way to be certain, and Lavender had certainly proven herself a serious contender. But to a large section of the student population, including myself, that explanation did make a lot of sense. And in the absence of a better theory, I decided to go with it. We’d know for sure when they butted tits again.

It was now Tuesday, the final day of school before the Christmas holidays. We would all be heading home to see our families tomorrow, and incidentally getting a much-needed break from the usual stresses and rigours of academic life. I’d spent the last few hours hanging out with my friends and classmates, saying goodbyes and even exchanging the odd Christmas present. Only a handful of us were chummy enough to merit more than a chocolate bar, but there was one girl in particular that deserved something thoughtful and special.

I’d been lucky enough to find a rare first edition copy of Hermione’s favourite book, complete with the author’s signature. It’d cost a pretty penny, but considering my father’s more than comfortable income (and subsequently my own generous allowance), I hadn’t hesitated for a minute. And judging by how excited the brunette had been to receive her gift already, when it was still all wrapped up, I was certain to get a VERY warm hug upon my return in January. Maybe even a kiss? Hermione was close friends with both Fleur and I, and my girlfriend allowed her some liberties that others did not enjoy.

I chatted with Hermione for a few minutes, catching up on the latest news and throwing in the occasional flirt to coax out some giggles. The second-year had a beautiful, bright smile, one that could light up the whole room, and I seemed to have developed something of a weak spot for it. Okay, for the girl in general. Had I been single, there was little doubt she could’ve snagged me right up.

“Big night today,” Hermione stated, biting her lower lip cutely as she gave me a sly look from under her lashes. “You excited?”

“Huh?” I replied intelligently, feeling nervous all of a sudden. She had to be referring to the third-years’ dinner with the staff, right?

“Oh, don’t be coy with me Cedric, I know all about the stakes,” the curvy brunette smiled, waggling her eyebrows and giggling at my panicked look. “Most of the girls do. Susan’s spent weeks gushing about how she’ll tame your dick before Christmas, and based on her body language at the breakfast table this morning, I’d say she’s finally getting her greedy paws on you,” Hermione murmured softly, placing a hand on my bicep and giving it a squeeze. I swallowed. Her close presence was making my palms sweat, and worse yet, creating a different kind of reaction down below. It was impossible to erase the memory Hermione’s curvaceous figure bouncing up and down as the girl gave me the fucking of a lifetime, completely draining my seed and reducing me to a hot, shivering mess. That image would in all likelihood stay with me forever, a reminder of the greatest, wildest night I’d ever experienced. And of the fact that Hermione was an absolute beast in bed.

“She’s a lucky girl.” The brunette whispered as she looked back up, a wide grin adorning her pretty face. “Almost makes me want to challenge Fleur again. I know I’d lose, but the sex afterwards should still be worth it.” Hermione suddenly pressed herself against me, lowering her head slightly and breathing in my scent. I could feel her full, round boobs pushing against my side, and to my mortification, the girl’s sizable bosom caused my manhood to jump. Noticeably.

Hermione let out a quiet sigh, grinding her delightfully soft body onto the bulge. “Wow, it’s even bigger than I remembered. Maybe I could convince your girlfriend to skip the foreplay next time,” she pondered a husky tone. “And move straight into the main event? Would you like that, Ced?”

I grunted in affirmation, not quite trusting my voice just then. The cute second-year held onto me for a few more moments before she pulled away, her face red but also looking rather pleased with herself. “Good. I’ll see what I can do when we get back from the holidays. And don’t forget – if you ever get bored of shagging Fleur…”

I sputtered, and Hermione giggled at my abashed expression.

“Anyway, have fun tonight. I don’t think Susan’s that knowledgeable with girls, but she should be… ‘well equipped’ to take care of you. More cushin’ for the pushin’ and all that, right?” she smiled with a suggestive wink. “I know how you love some meat on a girl.”

As Hermione began to walk away, I was unable to resist the temptation of admiring her thick, beautifully curved bum and thighs. While not quite as awe-inspiring as Megan’s, they were still well worth the extra ogling. Come to think of it, I’d once heard my classmates refer to the brainy second-year’s rear as the one area where she could actually give Fleur a run for her money. That and grades of course, Hermione’s academic performance was even better than my girlfriend’s – or anyone else’s for that matter. Finally shaking myself from my thoughts (and desperately hoping that no one had noticed our somewhat compromising interaction) I took off towards the head students’ dorm. The annual Christmas gathering between teachers and third-years would be starting in less than an hour, and I still needed to finish with my packing for tomorrow’s trip home. I’d promised to spend the first few days with my parents in Berkshire, but was already looking forward to seeing Fleur and her family’s winter hideout in the Caribbean. St Barts had to be pretty nice this time of year…

*~*~*

Fleur and I arrived at the teachers’ lounge a few minutes early, keen to use the opportunity to mingle with the staff in a more relaxed setting. Being the head boy and girl, we were of course better acquainted with the professors than most students to begin with, but it was still a nice change to chat with them without having to worry about formalities or hierarchy. Even the headmistress, a stern and strict Scotswoman famous for never smiling in public, appeared to be in a good mood.

The first hour or two went rather smoothly and uneventfully, talking, eating and simply enjoying each others’ company, but just as we were finishing off the dessert, the was a marked change in the atmosphere. I noticed that the non-academic staff had departed discreetly, and watched the waiters pick up the remaining trays before closing a pair of large, wooden doors behind them. I looked at my girlfriend inquisitively, only to see that she was just as intrigued as I was.

The school’s venerable headmistress cleared her voice unnecessarily, as the room was already rather hushed. “Ladies and Gentlemen. Soon, we shall part our ways to get a good dose of sleep before heading out for the holidays. But there is still one final number on the programme. You are now the eldest, most knowledgeable students occupying these hallowed halls, and will be graduating in less than six months. It is therefore high time to see just how much you have learned during your stay here at the Academy, and whether or not the apprentices can truly claim to have become masters,” she intoned solemnly, a small, wry smile tugging at her lips. “Of course, in keeping with the age-old traditions of this fine establishment, we shall settle the matter in a very concrete way. Miss Tonks, Mrs Bunton, if you’d be so kind.”

They’d clearly been waiting for their turn, as the professors stepped forward in unison. I wasn’t terribly familiar with the younger of the two women, Miss Tonks, but knew that she taught the girls’ physical education courses. She looked the part, too, sporting a toned, moderately curvy body that received considerable attention from the school’s male population. Part of it was undoubtedly due to the snug clothing her subject required, but I had to admit that Miss Tonks’ natural good looks probably played a much larger role. Her dark, deep red hair was cut short, and though it was hard to guess her exact age, it had to be between 30 and 35. Not that much older than the students she was teaching.

The second professor, Mrs Bunton, taught art and was almost as popular with the boys. I guessed her to be in her late 40s, maybe even early 50s, but the woman’s pronounced bust and meaty behind were sure to catch admiring glances from those with an appreciation for ampler figures. The fact that she also liked to wear tops with very low necklines, and frequently engaged in flirtatious exhanges with the more handsome male students, probably didn’t hurt either. Stealing a quick, surreptitious glance at Mrs Bunton’s deep cleavage, I could certainly understand the appeal. She was a proper woman, not some skinny little girl.

“Thank you, ma’m,” Miss Tonks smiled at the headmistress before turning her attention to us. She’d only started at the Academy last Spring, and was the most junior member of staff. “Okay kids, we’ve saved the best bit for last,” the young teacher grinned, echanging a quick look with her colleague. “As many of you have probably gathered, the exam won’t exactly be of an academic variety. I’d say it’s more of a hands-on effort, but that wouldn’t be quite true, either,” she guffawed at her own quip. I watched Mrs Bunton roll her eyes at the younger, sportier woman, apparently not liking her casual tone.

“Yes, quite,” she muttered. “You will be taking part in the latest chapter of a very long tradition. Teachers and third-year students have faced each other in these exhibition matches for several decades now, but as the rules dictate, are required to be sworn to secrecy. You are NOT to mention any of this to the younger students, nor to any outsiders for that matter. All alumni are of course in the know, and you are free to bring up the ‘test of maturity’ with them.” Mrs Bunton let her eyes meet with ours, making sure everyone understood that confidentiality was a key component in tonight’s event.

“The practical aspects are simple, and dare I say quite familiar from your weekly extracurricular meetings,” the art professor allowed herself a small smirk. “Both the students and the teachers will choose a champion from their midsts. Those designated fighters will then attempt to prove their breasts superior, pitting youth against experience, enthusiasm against endurance.” I noticed that Mrs Bunton’s gaze had locked onto one particular muscle-jock’s crotch for a second, and based on her expression, the pronounced bulge there seemed to meet the teacher’s approval. I had of course heard rumous about the countless male students the chesty art professor had bedded over the years, but they’d always sounded a bit exaggerated to my ears. I wasn’t so sure anymore.

“Any questions?” Miss Tonks asked happily, shifting her weight from one foot to the other as she regarded everyone. I took a moment to study her undeniably attractive figure, making special note of the two medium-sized orbs straining against the thin fabric of her shirt. Having seen the gym teacher jog around the lake in a tank top before, I knew them to be impressively dense. In terms of size she was probably a large C or a small D cup, around Padma and Katie’s league.

“No? Alrighty then, we’ll just give you a few minutes to figure out who’s going to represent the students. See you in a bit!”

*~*~*

I watched Fleur exchange a quick glance with Angelina, her long-time nemesis, my girlfriend’s tense posture mirroring the toned ebony girl’s body language. For once I had no trouble figuring out what they were thinking about, and the loud murmurs seemed to indicate that the rest of third year was equally aware of the problem. Under normal circumstances, Fleur would’ve been the obvious pick, with Angelina following close behind. But the previous weekend’s tournament had taken its toll on the two top girls, and I doubted either was particularly eager to have another titfight so soon. Having gotten a good look (and grope) at my girlfriend’s big jugs just this morning, I knew that she was still recovering from the ordeal, and Angelina’s rack had seemed to have taken an even worse beating. I saw the black girl give her blonde-haired rival a grimace before turning her dark eyes towards the other students.

“Can’t speak for Fleur, but my jugs still need a few days off,” Angelina said, shrugging slightly as she glanced at her groupies Alicia and Katie. I heard the volleyball girl Megan snort.

“No surprise there, Angie. That little firsty really got you good,” the brunette cooed, a wide grin playing on her pretty face. “I’d frame that memory if I could: your brown udders melting against Lav’s cute, puffy boobs, just oozing away like the marshmellows they are. Sooo fucking hot.” It was obvious that the volleyball girl took great enjoyment in riling up her fellow third-year, her eyes twinkling with amusement and glee.

A few of the girls guffawed, and I watched an annoyed Angelina flip Megan off. “Screw you, ass-queen. As if your own tits would’ve done any better. Besides, let’s not forget that unlike the esteemed champ here, I at least didn’t LOSE to that bimbo,” she added, pointing an accusing finger at my girlfriend. The modelesque blonde pursed her lips, shaking her head just barely perceptibly.

“I did try to warn you, Angelina,” Fleur replied with a harsh look. “She’s got a surprisingly tough rack, way nicer than it looks. And to be honest, Lav-Lav’s bouncy titties aren’t too bad to look at in the first place, are they?” she added more playfully. I found myself nodding eagerly, and immediately felt self-conscious. Luckily, most of my classmates seemed to be busy agreeing with the French girl’s assessment themselves. Male ones especially, the girls appeared to hold too much stock in their own busts to concede the point quite as easily. Lavender had a very attractive set of knockers, and although their ample, feminine appearance made them look somewhat cuddly and soft, they’d proven themselves to be anything but. My girlfriend cleared her throat.

“Anyway, getting back to the topic. My boobs could do with a bit more time to heal as well,” Fleur admitted grudgingly as she met the black girl’s eyes again. The entire school had witnessed her match against Ginny, my girlfriend’s bigger pair squeaking out a narrow win over her opponent’s incredibly firm tits, and the blonde’s words were met with understanding murmurs. I tried to send Fleur a supportive look, but my girl’s gaze was firmly on her fellow female students.

“While I could definitely fight if I had to, there’s a far safer option. TWO options, in fact.” The French beauty took a moment to run her eyes across the group, pausing meaningfully at Megan and Alicia. The girls immediately straightened their backs and pushed their already impressive chests further out.

I knew that both third-years had a pair of firm, full and nicely rounded breasts, which sagged only a bit more than Fleur’s larger, perfectly shaped tits did. Right now, Megan and Alicia of course had the two nicest sets in all of third year, as they hadn’t fought – and therefore incurred any damage – in weeks. To the girls’ credit, their racks would’ve probably just about equalled Angelina’s in terms of shape even if the black girl had been at 100%, and were known to have humbled the highest-ranking second-year Padma’s exceedingly hard orbs on occasion. I’d also seen each girl flatten the Asian beauty Cho’s tight tits earlier this year, which was certainly no mean feat. Megan and Alicia’s sets were, however, visibly smaller than Fleur’s or Angelina’s, giving up what appeared to be roughly half a cup size, and previous experience indicated that they weren’t quite as dense either.

While the girls could give serious trouble to pretty much any opponent, including my girlfriend, they weren’t quite champion material. More specifically, Megan was currently ranked number 7, with Alicia occupying the spot right above her. I recalled that Alicia also had the slightly bigger pair, with little to no difference in apparent firmness. In any case, it seemed like they would be the best the third year had to offer tonight, the two usual favourites having effectively knocked themselves out of the competition.

“Well, no offense Megan,” Angelina called out in a slow, superior drawl, “But the choice looks pretty easy to me. Alicia’s the next best girl in our year, and I don’t think I need to remind everyone how your last fight against her went.” I saw Alicia flash her friend a quick smirk, before turning to observe the volleyball girl with a rather smug expression.

“Fuck you, Angie,” Megan shot back, narrowing her eyes in annoyance. “That was well over a year ago, and I was pretty crap back then. Or can you honestly say I didn’t put up a good fight against you just last month?” Angelina raised a carefully groomed eyebrow at the brunette.

“Sure, you seem to have learned quite a few tricks since then. A late bloomer of sorts I guess,” the ebony girl conceded with a brief, patronizing smile. “But the point still stands – you’re below Alicia in the rankings, and there’s no reason to think you’d be able to do a better job than she can.” I watched Megan open her mouth, presumably to contradict the dark-skinned girl’s assessment, but Angelina interjected just in time. “Really, don’t take it personally Megs. I’m sure that even your lesser boobs could handle some saggy old professor. But we’ll go with the higher-ranked fighter anyway, just in case.”

“As much as I’d like to disagree, Angelina does have a point,” Fleur sighed, effectively ending the debate. She was looking at the curvy volleyball player with an apologetic expression on her face. “If there was more time, we could’ve settled the matter with a semi-final. But that’s hardly an option here.”

“Yeah, then we’d have to really start scraping the barrel,” Natalie, a thin redhead called out jokingly. “I’m all in favour of giving the teachers a fair chance, but losing all FOUR top girls to battle damage sounds a little extreme.” Her comment earned a few laughs, though I did notice Katie shoot a dirty look at the girl. Considering she would’ve been the next third-year to turn to, I guess I could understand why she’d feel somewhat miffed by the choice of words. Megan continued to communicate silently with my girlfriend for a few more moments before giving a reluctant nod.

“Fine, it’s your call I guess,” the volleyball player muttered, crossing her arms on top of her sizable bust. “But don’t blame me if Alicia gets her tits fed to her. Tonks is no slouch. I’ve seen her topless in the changing room, and even if those boobs aren’t big, they definitely look firm.”

*~*~*

A few minutes later the professors returned to the room, with Miss Tonks and Mrs Bunton leading the way.

“Okay, one last thing before we begin,” the younger of the two called out. “There won’t be any actual stakes tonight – the winning side of course gets eternal glory and honour, but since the result isn’t going to be public knowledge, the bragging rights will be somewhat limited,” Miss Tonks admitted with a lopsided smile.

“Still, I’m sure that our totally one-sided beatdown of a victory will come up more than once during next Spring’s third-year lessons.” Her top-heavy colleague added with a wink. “Watching embarrassed students squirm in their seats never gets old.”

I saw some of my classmates bristle at Mrs Bunton’s taunt, but Alicia’s only response was a condescending smile. Apparently the brunette was feeling pretty good about her chances.

“Aww, can’t we make an exception?” I heard Alicia smirk. “I think I’d enjoy having you two on your knees, sucking my big, young tits in front of everyone. You’d also get a reminder of what those wrinkly udders once felt like, back in the good ol’ days.” A number of third-year girls giggled aloud, and I watched Angelina give her friend a wide grin. Some of the black girl’s famous bravado had clearly rubbed off on the brunette.

“Hmh, why not?” Mrs Bunton chuckled, not looking particularly worried. “I take it you’ll be the one representing the students tonight?” She took Alicia’s smug expression as confirmation. “Too bad. I’d been looking forward to flattening Fleur’s perfect tits, they look so nice and firm. A second-rate bitch like you isn’t going to stand a chance against my jugs.”

There was a sharp intake of breath as everyone realized what that meant. Tonks wasn’t the teachers’ champion after all.

“That’s right, little girl,” the art professor cooed. “Your puny set is about to face these huge, heavy globes. I hope you brought a spare pair of tits along, since you’re going to need one pretty soon.” Alicia narrowed her eyes at the older woman, but Mrs Bunton turned towards her colleague with a winning smile. “Miss Tonks, why don’t you show her my previous conquest?”

The gym teacher’s cheeks reddened visibly, but she complied with the request without argument, flinging her top to the side and quickly proceeding to unclasp the bra underneath. I blinked. Miss Tonks’ breasts were light in color, and very much in line with my earlier size estimates. It was their shape that caught me by surprise. For a 30-something she had remarkably little sag, and while her tits admittedly didn’t look as hard and unyielding as Padma’s or Ginny’s similarly-sized orbs, they did jut out impressively far outwards from her chest. I’d once heard a girl get called ‘torpedo tits’ by her friends, and thought that Miss Tonks’ pair fit the moniker perfectly.

“Watch closely, everyone. My dear colleague here was sure she could spear my rack with these pointy little boobs,” I heard the art professor call out while she bounced her colleague’s long, conically-shaped breasts in her hands. “But she thought wrong. My bigger, better jugs turned hers into mush, simply overwhelming these weirdo titties with their superior mass and strength. Isn’t that right?” The girls’ gym teacher nodded grudgingly, acknowledging Mrs Bunton’s version of events as accurate. I could only imagine what her proud pair had looked like then, bending to the older woman’s heavy rack.

Glancing over to my side, I could see Alicia observing the show with an unreadable expression. Her eyes were wide, but I couldn’t detect any real fear or concern in the brunette as she began to remove her own top. The art professor made an appreciative sound once the girl’s sizable boobs bounced free, jiggling enticingly for a second or two before the supple titflesh settled down. Alicia’s large Ds appeared to have a full cup size over Miss Tonks’ small but pointy breasts, and could at least claim rough parity with them in firmness, even if the girl’s set did have a much rounder shape. I’d seen Alicia’s boobs give Lavender a serious workout before, and recalled how she’d briefly taken over Padma’s third place in the rankings back in September. The Indian girl had of course avenged her loss in short order, but the achievement remained.

“Fair enough, I guess they’ll have to do,” Mrs Bunton mused, finally letting go of the gym teacher’s unusually shaped breasts and turning fully towards her opponent-to-be. “At least you’re not much softer than I used to be in that age. A bit on the small side, yes, but that’s normal for you kids.”

Alicia let out an indignant huff, moving her hands to the hips as she glared at the mature woman. Her rack, while not one of the biggest in school, was well above average. “Yeah right. Care to tell us just how big you were back then, huh?”

The mature arts professor smiled. “Why of course. I grew out of a regular D cup before I was 18, and must’ve been at least a mid DD by the time I graduated from here. Nowadays my girls are closer to a TRIPLE than a Double D. Thanks for asking.”

Making some quick mental calculations, I realized that made Mrs Bunton’s rack bigger than any third- or second-year’s, and almost equal to Susan’s mammoth jugs. The art professor outgunned her closest rivals in this room, Fleur and Angelina, by roughly one cup size. I spent a few moments drinking in Mrs Bunton’s top-heavy form, noting how her breasts looked ready to burst out of the revealing top. They bounced quite a bit as the art professor walked towards her opponent, my eyes firmly glued to those big and plentiful mammaries. It was only then that I realized she wasn’t actually wearing a bra.

Mrs Bunton began to lift the bottom of her shirt, pulling it up slowly. She flashed a quick grin and let her large, heavy teats curve down in the center before releasing them from their confines. As Mrs Bunton’s mammaries finally plopped free, the pale flesh dropped down with a smack, both jugs shaking and wobbling like full water balloons. They looked dense but exceedingly heavy, sitting fairly low on her chest and displaying noticeable sag. The pendulous shape was of course entirely understandable given her age, and the art professor had a significant lead in size and mass over her young adversary. Mrs Bunton’s hefty udders were topped by thick, red nipples, and the ample flesh swam around her chest distractingly as the mature woman stretched her neck and back.

The weight of Mrs Bunton’s breasts was apparent to even a casual observer, and I knew that Alicia would need to either grind her out, or keep moving around and try not to let herself get stopped. If she did, the older woman could probably pummel the third-year flat. I’d seen Pansy defeat numerous girls with firmer boobs using that tactic, sometimes going so far as to pin them down and boob-bomb the opposing set to paste with her large rack. While Alicia had a good track record at countering such attacks, being both highly skilled and athletic, staying mobile would definitely be a priority for her.

I was somewhat surprised to see a cocky, unconcerned smirk adorning the brunette’s face.

“Wow, those are even saggier than I thought,” Alicia laughed, sharing an amused look with her friends. “How old are you, exactly? Eighty?” the third-year mocked, studying her opponent’s huge, shaking tits with a dismissive expression. Sure, the brunette’s own, round breasts were considerably firmer-looking than Mrs Bunton’s, but in my opinion the professor’s rack didn’t hang that much more than Daphne’s or Pansy’s 19-year-old jugs did, despite being a tad bigger. The visible droopiness seemed only natural given the circumstances.

“We’ll see how perky your own breasts look in a few years,” the art teacher replied lightly, appearing to wave the insult off. “Though I reckon I could be persuaded into speeding things up a little… How ’bout it, boys? Want to see how low this skank’s precious little tits sag once I’m done with them?”

Alicia laughed, shaking her head. “You’ve gone senile, granny. Those droopy sacks are going to flatten against my younger, better breasts.”

The athletic girl cupped her boobs briefly, giving them a good shake. I watched the firm flesh bounce and quiver pleasantly, and saw Alicia’s nipples begin to harden in the cool air. The third-year’s full set was more than a handful, and looked supple yet firm. They also sat high on her chest, especially compared to the art professor’s relative hangers. The mature woman quickly followed her rival’s example, bouncing her mammaries to show off their considerable heft and density. Though the demonstration appeared to have little success in intimidating Alicia, it did have an effect on the audience. I heard a gruff moan from my right, and glanced up to see Gareth’s flushed face. Angelina’s boyfriend was leering at the buxom art professor hungrily, eyes firmly glued to those substantial assets while his hand wandered south. Towards a rather pronounced boner.

“They’ve shagged, you know,” Fleur whispered into my ear softly. “Last year, when he was still dating that skinny blonde.  Looks like Gareth might be interested in a second helping,” she giggled, covering her mouth in an attempt to muffle the sound. I grinned at my girlfriend, enjoying the mirth reflected in her beautiful blue eyes.

“Can’t blame him, really,” I shot back, causing the French girl to snort. She shook her head at me in mock disapproval, but couldn’t keep a smile off her face.

Turning my attention back to the competitors, I saw that Alicia was still staring at the professor intently while she rubbed her sizable boobs from below. Mrs Bunton straightened her back, pulling those large, heavy udders up as the two women lined up their chests.

“I know you’ll remember this night for the rest of your life, dear,” the art teacher breathed out menacingly, her silky voice barely audible. “All the girls whose pride and joy I’ve crushed do.”

Mrs Bunton didn’t wait for a reply, instead stepping forward and pushing their big tits together. Alicia’s advantage in density became apparent straight away, and I watched the teacher’s larger mammaries billow out from the point of contact, yielding some ground to the opposing set. The toned brunette glanced down, smirking. “You sure ’bout that, Mrs B? ‘Cause it looks like my firm, young tits are taking over your saggy ones already.” I heard Katie and Angelina whisper something to each other, and the latter guffawed, obviously amused.

Mrs Bunton withdrew slightly, not bothering to respond to the third-year’s comment, and I watched the fighters circle around for half a pass. Each woman was clearly looking for an opening. A few teachers encouraged their colleague with loud yells, but this time, Alicia was the first to move. She stepped towards her much older opponent, bringing her thick breasts crashing forward. Mrs Bunton tried to twist, and very nearly managed to get her more pendulous boobs out of the way. The side of her right mammary, however, caught a solid blow, forcing the mass of the flesh towards the center of her chest. As Alicia pulled back, Mrs Bunton, grimacing, threw her right teat right back into the brunette’s left, scoring a more head-on blow than her opponent had. Alicia winced, firing back another shot with her other tit, and landed a solid shot, forcing Mrs Bunton’s left jug to wobble violently as the sporty third-year pulled back.

Acknowledging that she needed a different kind of approach, Mrs Bunton started slinging her big, heavy boobs from side to side. The brunette was quicker however, and slammed forward, surprising the art professor by landing a wicked blow while the latter’s breasts were still in motion. I heard Mrs Bunton gasp as Alicia’s firm orb slammed against her mammaries. The older woman’s ample breasts shook and quivered, and the brunette pulled back for another strike, ramming her dense left breast flat against the inside edge of Mrs Bunton’s right tit. The impact sent both women’s breasts jiggling. The teacher’s heavy teat waved across her chest from the noticeable impact, and Mrs Bunton grunted as she stepped back. Alicia continued her assault, sending another blow from her dense right breast into Mrs Bunton’s left boob. The professor’s plentiful flesh wobbled again, ripples shaking her large, pendulous breast.

The mature woman turned away, avoiding the third strike, though Alicia’s left breast did scrape by Mrs Bunton’s right. I noticed a wide grin on the brunette’s face as she stepped back, obviously pleased with her progress so far. The two women took a moment to reset themselves. As Mrs Bunton moved towards Alicia again, the third-year threw another shot. This time, however, Mrs Bunton was ready. The art teacher swung her hips from left to right, forcing her heavy tits to pull away from her body, distorting their shape slightly on impact – and even more noticeably as Mrs Bunton followed through. The brunette’s boobs were pushed back by the force of the blow, and Alicia let out a long, deep groan. Mrs Bunton swung again, and I saw her opponent close her eyes against the painful blow.

“That’s the ticket, old girl,” one of the teachers hollered, whistling loudly. “Put her back in her place!”

Mrs Bunton smirked at the encouragement, dragging her big, meaty mammaries across Alicia’s likely still-stinging rack. To her apparent surprise, the brunette managed to snag her opponent’s shoulders in the middle of the blow, and soon both women were struggling with more of a grinding move. Mrs Bunton’s mass of titflesh seemed to sometimes envelop Alicia’s breasts, especially when they moved side to side, but on alternate passes, Alicia’s boobs seemed to push almost through the softer titflesh of the other woman. The top-heavy art professor grunted in obvious discomfort, though I could see both she and Alicia were observing the battle between their bosoms with similarly strained expressions.

The older woman took a step back, most likely planning for another slam. Alicia thrust her chest toward Mrs Bunton, and the teacher met her midway. Both pairs of breasts slammed together, and each fighter winced as the contact was made. I wasn’t surprised to see Mrs Bunton’s jugs compress more, but noticed that the brunette’s firm, full orbs also morphed visibly. Alicia tried to get in a new shot, pulling away, but Mrs Bunton dipped her shoulders and jumped up. While the blow was glancing, Alicia’s boobs still flew up and then fell down with equal force. I heard the young brunette let out a hiss as Mrs Bunton’s hefty breasts once more clipped her more compact pair. Alicia’s dense tits jiggled and wobbled from the blows, and Mrs Bunton immediately slammed her shoulders forward, sending her massive udders into Alicia’s again.

The third-year staggered back, reeling from the strike, her face a mask of shock and pain. I could only assume that she was taken aback by the amount of punch her opponent’s heavy hangers packed. A satisfied smirk appeared on Mrs Bunton’s face as she stalked forward. Alicia responded by throwing a quick jab, for lack of a better word, into the larger breasts of her rival. Mrs Bunton grunted, and I saw her ample flesh get displaced for a moment, spreading around the tips of Alicia’s smaller boobs before the brunette pulled away. Mrs Bunton grimaced slightly while she watched her pendulous breasts fill back out, but she didn’t waste any time, thrusting her chest towards Alicia’s boobs. The third-year shifted to her left, but couldn’t completely avoid Mrs Bunton’s larger mammaries. Alicia winced mightily as Mrs Bunton’s left boob careened into her right orb, and I heard Gareth let out a shaky moan from my right. The school girl’s breast wobbled all over her chest, Alicia’s firm flesh rippling from the impact.

Another shot from the mature woman’s pendulous jugs sent the brunette’s boobs across her chest from the right, and Mrs Bunton’s distended tits slapped against Alicia’s as the teacher came back. Alicia, her eyes only half open after the first blow, didn’t react quickly enough to prevent yet another blow. Soon Mrs Bunton was dragging her huge tits over Alicia’s smaller pair.

I watched the third-year reach up and push Mrs Bunton away, sighing audibly as the pressure on her tender breasts disappeared. Mrs Bunton grinned, but the brunette’s fast counter attack pre-empted any taunt she might have thought up, and sent Mrs Bunton’s substantial rack up in waves. A few gasps erupted from the crowd, and Mrs Bunton instinctively took a step back. Alicia seemed to know it wasn’t a feint or baiting and struck. The blow she landed, her right breast flying from the side to slam into Mrs Bunton’s right tit, made a sharp smack that caused a couple of the girls to wince. I did my best to resist the urge to rub my crotch as I watched Mrs Bunton’s large breasts quiver and shake.

The art professor didn’t stay on the defensive for long, taking a step forward and swinging her thick, hefty mammaries. The blow was from the side, as Mrs Bunton twisted her torso and sent another shot into Alicia’s left boob. The third-year grunted, and the older woman swung up, bending slightly at the waist before snapping to a vertical, standing position. The attack seemed to have caught Alicia flat footed, and both of her firm, round breasts leaped upwards as Mrs Bunton’s heavy tits crashed into the underside of the brunette’s jugs. The smaller pair shook violently for a moment, but as Mrs Bunton pulled away, the brunette’s boobs settled back to their original shape.

The sporty girl stood still, attempting to recover, which allowed Mrs Bunton to fire two alternating shots with her swinging breasts. Her left teat came from the side, forcing the dense flesh of Alicia’s left boob to splay across the brunette’s chest, while Mrs Bunton’s right jug simply scraped across it. Alicia groaned as her tit quivered, then was mashed to the side by Mrs Bunton’s heavier boob.

I saw the brunette desperately try to ready herself for the next blow. Mrs Bunton’s right mammary careened into Alicia’s right breast, causing the girl’s firm, round orb to lose its shape and compress visibly. Alicia grunted as she took a step back, and Mrs Bunton followed her aggressively. Alicia was waiting for that, however, and brought her more compact chest down. Mrs Bunton moaned as she felt the powerful blow fall hard on her reddened jugs, flattening them at the top.

Encouraged by her opponent’s reaction, Alicia slammed the full weight of her thick boobs forward, shoving her rack straight into Mrs Bunton’s waiting counterpart. The mature woman’s udders seemed to splay out again, and she gasped as Alicia’s tits seemed to simply burrow into her softer flesh, invading her space and forcing a significant percentage of her teats away. Alicia pushed further forward, grinding her dense globes deeper into Mrs Bunton’s set. The brunette left her tits there for a moment, and I took a mental snapshot of Alicia’s sizable boobs displacing the professor’s massive, hefty rack. Alicia pulled away, admiring how Mrs Bunton’s breasts quivered on the woman’s chest.

“Oops,” the brunette laughed, a smug, malicious grin on her face. “Looks like I may have accidentally broken them.” Alicia fired her left breast into Mrs Bunton’s right, and I watched both teats compress at the point of impact. Mrs Bunton’s larger mammary once again fattened more, but it was also receiving the blow. As the third-year pulled back a bit, Mrs Bunton’s pendulous jug quickly regained its shape. While Alicia prepared for her next move, a heavy blow landed against her left boob, shaking both pairs of teats. I watched Mrs Bunton’s left teat distend from the impact, then meet Alicia’s breast at the front again.

“Accept it, granny,” Alicia growled. “Those saggy old tits are no match for my firm ones. You can quit trying to delay the inevitable. Maybe you had nice boobs once upon a time, but…” Whatever she’d been planning to say was cut off as Mrs Bunton slammed forward, both massive breasts firing upwards. The impact sent Alicia’s tits wobbling, and the girl staggered, releasing her opponent’s shoulders. Mrs Bunton stayed on the offensive, stepping forward with a wrecking-ball style shot from the side, her right breast slamming into Alicia’s right boob with a loud clap that caused the crowd to “ooh” and “aah”.

Another thunderous slam hit its mark, and turned Alicia’s face into a mask of pain as she tried to regain some control. Mrs Bunton’s blow had evidently caused serious damage, I thought, glancing at her boobs. The parts that weren’t tan were bright red, the result of the mature woman’s persistent attacks throughout the match. Another blow landed, and Alicia’s groan was low and primal. As the teacher reared back for another strike, Alicia desperately lunged forward, muting Mrs Bunton’s strike. She also managed to wrap her arms around Mrs Bunton, and pulled her in roughly.

The older woman’s face betrayed considerable discomfort, as did Alicia’s, as both women struggled to grind the other out. “I’m going to flatten your big, fat sacks now,” Alicia said, her face a strange and almost scary mixture of a smile and a snarl. “You can kiss all those boy toys goodbye. They won’t want anything to do with you once I’ve sent these droopy udders into retirement.”

“Hah, you don’t have the goods for that, little girl. My bigger, better jugs will pound your pretender tits flat. I hope you’ve got a boyfriend, ’cause I’ll be taking him out for a spin later tonight,” the teacher smirked, batting her eyes seductively and scanning the crowd for a suitable victim. I briefly wondered just how many male students Mrs Bunton had taken to her bed over the years. And why wasn’t I one of them?

“Daring old bitch!” the brunette growled, looking incensed. “As if you could ever steal a guy from me!”

With each moment in the hug, either Alicia would flex her back and lower torso, thrusting her chest further forward as the mature woman tried to grind back, or Mrs Bunton would bend as much as she could to bring her breasts up and over. Each action caused the respective pair of breasts to undulate, shifting, and molding around the other set. I noticed that even the brunette’s dense globes compressed significantly, no longer holding their round shape as well as before. While Alicia’s set still appeared to be the firmer, she didn’t have the volume or mass that Mrs Bunton did. And although the art teacher’s hefty udders did move noticeably more than the brunette’s, Alicia’s face seemed to relay just as much discomfort and pain as her opponent’s did.

Whenever the third-year thrust forward, Mrs Bunton’s tits flattened at the point of meeting, compressing and making way for the brunette’s dense set. But Alicia couldn’t hold her there, and inevitably older woman pulled back and started her own grinding assault on the brunette’s jugs. As Alicia pushed forward for what felt like the hundredth time, Mrs Bunton twisted her hips left. Alicia apparently sensed what was coming, and fired her own shot. Their breasts met forcefully, and each breast distorted, pushing and sliding over its counterpart. Alicia’s nipples looked hard, poking up and over the curve of Mrs Bunton’s flesh. The professor’s own turgid tips seemed to try to burrow into her opponent’s flesh, denting the sides of Alicia’s sweaty boobs. Both women winced, but seemed eager to keep their chests together. I hadn’t noticed Mrs Bunton’s arms sliding toward Alicia’s shoulders, but the brunette did. She grinned as she brought her own arms up, and soon both women had the other by the shoulders, their tits pushing against one another.

Each set of breasts flattened, though Mrs Bunton’s looser rack again gave more ground. Even so, the teacher seemed happy to keep thrusting their breasts together. While the movements were somewhat repetitive, the erotic element of the contact started to really get to me. And judging by the quiet grunts and groans echoing around the room, I wasn’t exactly alone in my predicament. Everyone stared intently as Alicia’s firm tits pushed into the larger pair for a moment, with Mrs Bunton responding by sliding her teats over and up, and letting Alicia’s rack try to bear the weight of her own. Eventually, Mrs Bunton’s tits would slope down and start the cycle all over again. Both approaches seemed to work equally well, at least judging by the redness of the two fighters’ breasts and the slow creep of pain that eased itself onto their faces.

I watched as Mrs Bunton moved her hands down Alicia’s toned shoulders to the joint and pulled forward. The brunette’s torso followed the motion, and Mrs Bunton sighed. Her opponent’s firm tits had been forced down with the pull, and the sudden leverage allowed Mrs Bunton’s heavier rack to begin pushing into the tops of Alicia’s breasts. The brunette’s boobs were displaced noticeably, compressing from above and forcing the dense titflesh downward. I watched Alicia struggle to twist away, but Mrs Bunton’s grip was surprisingly strong. The pained third-year pushed against Mrs Bunton with more and more force, but the older woman obviously knew she had the best position. Deciding to add a little more oomph to the move, Mrs Bunton pulled back slightly and slammed forward with as much power as she could muster. The smaller pair of tits splayed out from the impact, and Alicia yelped in pain. Her moans only grew louder as the art professor began to force their racks downward, stretching the brunette’s dense breast-tissue with her own jugs’ impressive heft. I could only stare as Alicia’s boobs lost more and more of their round shape, each young orb yielding to the mass of titflesh above.

“Whoa, will you look at that. Guess who’s saggy now, kiddo?” Mrs Bunton chortled. She repeated the motion, once, twice, and a third time. Each time, I watched Alicia’s tits morph under the strain, flattening at the top and starting to droop as the rival set of breasts bore down on them. It almost looked like the teacher was trying to steamroll her opponent’s firm boobs flat. The third brutal grind actually pushed Alicia to her knees, and her arms fell to the side as Mrs Bunton maintained the hold. “Mmhmm, feels amazing, doesn’t it? Your soft little udders turning into mush under a real woman’s dominant pair.” the mature fighter sighed spitefully. I swallowed thickly, watching as Mrs Bunton forcefully bent the brunette down, using her position to push Alicia’s shoulders toward the floor. As expected, the brunette’s sore boobs fell from her body, swinging slightly from the struggle she was putting up.

Alicia twisted, still unable to get away from the broader and heavier woman. I watched her sore tits jiggle, wobbling from side to side. Ever so slowly, the third-year manage to slide her hands to Mrs Bunton’s wrists, and the teacher grunted as her young opponent forced the controlling limbs away from her shoulders.

As soon as she got her foot under her, Alicia shot straight up, driving her chest into the underside of Mrs Bunton’s heavy breasts. The professor’s large tits were rocked, bouncing and shaking wildly. I could sense my own eyes widen as Alicia pushed forward, slamming her tits into Mrs Bunton’s again. The teacher’s hefty jugs were now shaking freely on her chest, and Alicia’s assault showed no signs of slowing.

Mrs Bunton seemed as stunned as anyone. She was driven back at least three steps before she attempted to pull her hands from Alicia’s grasp. The brunette stopped her assault once she felt Mrs Bunton’s shift, and immediately forced her opponent’s wrists to the side with a sudden surge. Another blow, a direct hit from Alicia, forced an expletive from Mrs Bunton’s open mouth. The buxom art teacher struggled against the embrace, and threw her tits to the left, catching Alicia in a direct hit as the latter forced herself forward once more. Alicia’s reddened tits bounced against Mrs Bunton’s, sending both pairs into rolling waves across the women’s respective chests.

Mrs Bunton managed to land another crushing blow against Alicia’s boobs, and the brunette grimaced. But rather than backing up, she stepped forward. With Mrs Bunton’s wrists still (roughly) at her side, Alicia’s arms suddenly and quickly snaked around the professor’s back. Mrs Bunton gasped, swearing, but Alicia had managed to establish the leverage she needed to keep her opponent’s arms pinned. Both fighters groaned as their tits smashed together, but the look on the teacher’s face indicated that she’d suffered more damage. Mrs Bunton started to groan even more audibly as Alicia pushed her tits hard into the looser rack, starting to roll her set into the older woman’s meaty jugs. Mrs Bunton’s heavy boobs quivered as Alicia did her best to crush them with her firmer set.

The brunette’s arms slid down to Mrs Bunton’s elbows, and as the professor struggled to escape, Alicia attempted twice to get her hands together. At the same time, Mrs Bunton’s full breasts billowed and rolled over and around Alicia’s, and both women seemed to be feeling every little shift of the mass of breasts between them. The pain and discomfort were etched on women’s faces, and each pair of breasts bounced and shook as they slid against the opposing pair.

Still, it seemed like Alicia was controlling more of the action now, with Mrs Bunton’s arms pinned. I watched the brunette begin to shift her feet, alternating the pressure between the left and the right. Had I not understood the competition, I would have found the sight enticing, Mrs Bunton’s heavier breasts ballooning out in the rhythm of Alicia’s short thrusts. Oh hell, who was I kidding? I still found in incredibly hot. Mrs Bunton shifted her own legs, but couldn’t establish much control because her center of balance was too restricted. Then she had an idea.

In one sudden move, Mrs Bunton jerked her hips to the left. She lost her footing, but the force of the move pushed Alicia into letting go of the hold to keep her balance. The teacher stumbled, dropping to one knee. Alicia staggered as well, but quickly regained her footing, and jumped forward. Mrs Bunton was just getting to her feet when she felt Alicia’s breasts slam into hers. The force of the blow and the weak base from which she was working gave way to the third-year’s assault, and both women tumbled to the floor, with Alicia landing atop her opponent. Mrs Bunton shifted and bucked, while the brunette reached for the teacher’s flailing wrists. Soon Alicia’s left hand caught Mrs Bunton’s right wrist, slamming the teacher’s hand to the floor and causing the larger set of breasts to roll across their owner’s chest. With a primal growl, Mrs Bunton reached up and snagged Alicia’s right wrist, pulling the brunette to the side and bucking like crazy.

Alicia tumbled, and Mrs Bunton rolled over, scrambling to get to her feet. The third-year, who was still on her knees, lunged forward. As I tried to stifle my moan, another loud smack announced the contact between the two women’s breasts. Mrs Bunton put her arms down to brace herself, and Alicia slapped another hug on, this time gripping her wrists behind the teacher’s back. Alicia put her mouth to Mrs Bunton’s ear and whispered something, and Mrs Bunton suddenly tried to flail. With her knees under her, however, the teacher couldn’t try the same move, and she instead tried leaning forward, pushing her heavy boobs into Alicia’s. The third-year grinned and simply leaned back, taking Mrs Bunton with her. I realized that even on her knees, Alicia knew she had some leverage, and as Mrs Bunton’s breasts leaned forward, the brunette pulled her round orbs up. The art professor’s groan was clearly audible as she felt Alicia’s breasts begin to burrow into her larger pair. The brunette’s arms suddenly tightened and Mrs Bunton snapped her eyes shut, gritting her teeth. I realized after a moment that Alicia was grinding her tits into the tops of her opponent’s substantial breasts.

I watched as the younger fighter slowly pushed and rocked her bust against Mrs Bunton’s large mammaries. The teacher’s jugs began to slowly slide down, only to sprung back up as Alicia lessened the pressure. Mrs Bunton’s hands reached for purchase, but all she could do was grip her opponent’s elbows. Throughout the attempt, the brunette didn’t slow the slight sway of her shoulders as she rolled her back slightly. I recognized the move, and apparently many of the other girls did, too. Soon Mrs Bunton’s tits were rocking in rhythm with Alicia’s motions as the sporty brunette took control of the fight.

“Fuck yes, Al!” one of the third-year girls cheered. “Grind those soft granny-boobs out!”

Alicia did exactly that, leaning closer and pushing her tits further into Mrs Bunton’s chest. She whispered something to her opponent, and Mrs Bunton once again struggled to get out. The young brunette grinned wickedly, shaking her head. With each shove, more flesh spilled out, and then fell back in, undulating as the two pairs of breasts met. Ever so slowly, the art teacher’s tits were being pushed further out, the plentiful flesh melting away as Alicia’s breasts sunk deeper and deeper into the opposing rack. I watched my classmate’s big, firm set start to almost disappear into her opponent substantial rack, and saw a familiar, confident smirk appear on Alicia’s face as the her opponent’s teats loosened up. It was now simply a matter of time before they’d cave in, I thought, and almost missed the older woman’s last, desperate move.

With a loud roar, Mrs Bunton jumped up, smashing both of her massive tits directly onto the brunette’s rounder set from above. A guttural groan confirmed that Alicia took the worst of the blow, her sore, reddened boobs quivering wildly. The move seemed to have stunned the brunette, and Mrs Bunton leaned back before sending her boobs into Alicia’s rack once again. The third-year’s tits jumped on her chest, and Alicia let out a moan as she felt her firm boobs spill outward. Each of her big, round tits seemed to move independently of the other for a moment before settling down on the girl’s chest.

The older woman reared back again, and Alicia was unable to dodge quickly enough. Soon, her left breast was flattening from the side, disappearing from sight as Mrs Bunton drove her udders straight into Alicia’s chest. The teacher pulled her big tits up and planted them right on top of her young rival’s rack, pushing the perkier set down with her massive bosom. I watched Mrs Bunton wrap her hands around the brunette, and there was a collective gasp as the crowd realized she had Alicia trapped, the professor’s huge, hefty boobs pushing down on the brunette’s smaller tits. Alicia cursed as she started her escape attempt, Mrs Bunton simply holding on and letting gravity do the work for her.

A few thrusts from Alicia sent Mrs Bunton’s womanly breasts shaking, but the art teacher would give a little step, almost like a hop, and bounce her boobs down onto the brunette’s again. The younger fighter grunted each time, but still kept fighting against the hug.

“I’m going to destroy your pretty, youthful boobies,” Mrs Bunton taunted Alicia after a particularly vicious blow. “I’m going to grind them to paste, so we can all see who’s really the saggy one around here.” Alicia, despite the strain she was under, tried to reply, but Mrs Bunton twisted at the hips and sent a massive swipe of her teats toward the brunette. Alicia groaned as she felt her firm tits get shoved down, and the professor, still smiling, pulled her knockers over Alicia’s smaller pair. Each time Mrs Bunton’s large rack flopped over Alicia’s boobs, both pairs bounced back into their usual form, but from the way both women grunted, I could tell some serious damage was being done

The art teacher was going for bigger and bigger strikes, and Alicia simply couldn’t seem to get the leverage she needed to shake Mrs Bunton off of her. “You can feel it, can’t you? My powerful titflesh overwhelming yours?” Mrs Bunton said, her lips curling into a menacing grin. “It won’t be long now. Your precious, pert boobs are fading.” The brunette grunted as Mrs Bunton stood on her toes again and pushed, leaning forward so that Alicia’s back bent at the waist.

I saw the sporty brunette’s tits begin to compress more and more as they were forced to bear the burden not only of Mrs Bunton’s impressive jugs, but more of the general weight of the woman herself. The older fighter, still not satisfied, thrust her torso up, forcing her huge tits into the air. They came crashing down onto Alicia’s exposed boobs, and the third-year let out a pained wail as her rack absorbed the impact of the blow. Alicia started squirming as Mrs Bunton shot her tits up again, letting them crash down atop her opponent’s jugs. The brunette’s badly injured tits had to feel as if they were on fire, I realized.

The struggle lasted for a long while, but I noticed Alicia’s toned legs begin to tremble slightly as she tried to fight off Mrs Bunton’s assault. The professor had stopped pushing her bosom downward, and had moved to straight tit-on-tit ramming, sending ripples of flesh all over both tenderized racks.

“Ohh yesss,” Mrs Bunton hissed. “Look how those weak, loose pillows shake!” The brunette could only groan as she felt her rack softening under the older woman’s assault. I saw Angelina and Katie watch the scene in absolute shock, and could tell that the other third-years were equally surprised. The teachers, however, were cheering their colleague on excitedly.

“How does it feel, sweetie?” Mrs Bunton cooed. “Losing to a fat old lady like me? Oh dear, what would your friends think if they saw you now…” she tutted with a cruel smirk. The brunette growled, not willing to admit defeat, and shoved her chest forward. I watched as the older woman’s pendulous, ample jugs compressed, quivering violently. But Alicia’s own tits pushed in even more, and the girl stared in horror at the amount of real estate her loosened rack was now yielding to the professor’s thick, heavy flesh.

The older woman smiled, apparently unfazed by the damage her own breasts had suffered. “Let this be a lesson for you,” Mrs Bunton murmured quietly, pulling away to let Alicia’s sore tits fill back out. “Even if my breasts aren’t as perky as they used to be, they’re still far better than yours.” The teacher leaned in to give the brunette’s breasts a few gentle slaps with her bigger rack. Each impact caused vast ripples of flesh in all four teats, and Mrs Bunton took in the sight with a wide grin before shoving her mammaries into the young girl’s now freely molding tits. Alicia could only gasp in disbelief as her formerly firm flesh spread out over her torso, displaced by Mrs Bunton’s somewhat less malleable jugs. Finally, the brunette, either sufficiently humiliated or faced with enough pain, gave up.

“Oh gawwwd, you win, Mrs Bunton,” Alicia groaned, breathing heavily. The girl’s face was flushed and sweaty, and her eyes seemed to be brimming with water. “Please stop! Your huge, strong tits are too much for my weaker set. They pounded a pair of young, round boobs into these empty sacks. You… you have much better breasts than I do,” she panted, sounding close to tears. I noticed that the brunette was refusing to look at her classmates, no doubt feeling intense shame over her loss to the much older woman. Mrs Bunton slowly pulled away, letting Alicia’s deflated breasts reform only at her whim and making sure everyone got a good look at whose titflesh held its shape better. The brunette’s once spherical globes slid down her chest, jiggling, splotchy and unmistakably droopy. They were certain to feature some spectacular bruising in the morning. While Alicia’s beaten boobs still didn’t sag much more than Mrs Bunton’s knockers did, their positions had now been reversed, and the change in the younger set was striking. The mature woman had quite literally pounded her opponent’s firmness away.

“Now, I distinctly recall you mentioned something about sucking tits…” Mrs Bunton said with a superior drawl, grabbing the despodent third-year by the shoulders and slowly pushing her down to her knees. “It’s your lucky day, princess. You get to taste a truly excuisite vintage. One of the best, even if I do say so myself.” I watched in fascination as the art professor brought her reddened, pendulous jug to my classmate’s lips.

“Mmhmm” Alicia gulped as the older woman’s left nipple pushed its way into her mouth, and a number of staff members clapped at their colleague’s brazenness. The third-year hesitated for a second, but seemed to realize that she had little say in the matter. She began to suckle on the massive teat demurely, her mouth moving over the teacher’s flesh and leaving a shiny, wet trail behind it. The buxom professor looked on with a smug expression as Alicia paid homage to her boobs, making soft grunts and patting her opponent’s head patronizingly.

“Ahh, that’s more like it. You have a rather talented tongue, dear,” Mrs Bunton moaned. “I take it this isn’t the first time you’ve had to lick a boob?” Alicia shook her head slightly, the movement causing Mrs Bunton’s plentiful breastmeat to wobble deliciously. At the art professor’s urging she switched over to the other teat, quickly starting to work over Mrs Bunton’s right mammary. The teacher’s large, heavy udder shifted and bounced as the brunette tongued and suckled on it, and I noticed that more than a few of my male classmates were sporting massive boners as they gaped at the scene. Then again, so was I. After a good two or three minutes of tantalizingly hot breast worship, Mrs Bunton stepped away. She turned towards the audience slowly, a wide grin on her face.

“Well, it seems that age and experience have prevailed once again. Better luck next time, kids.”

*~*~*

I braved a glance at my girlfriend, noting the blonde’s rosy cheeks and dilated pupils as she stared at the topless, sweaty mature with clearly discernible desire. Fleur was of course no stranger to the charms of her own sex, having fooled around with a number of other girls, and had even had a female lover back home in her old school. Apparently, the blonde’s appreciation for womanly curves also stretched to more mature physiques. Not that mine didn’t.

“You know, I really was hoping to face your set tonight, Fleur,” the buxom art teacher’s voice shook me out of my thoughts. She was smiling at the French girl’s distracted look. “Especially after you went and lost to my annoying air-head of a niece. She’s never been the humble type, but taking over the throne really…” Mrs Bunton suddenly trailed off.

“Oh yes,” she confirmed with a laugh. “Lavender’s mother and I happen to be sisters. She was quite full of herself back in the day, too.”

Though I hadn’t exactly anticipated this revelation, I had to admit that there was some family resemblance. Mrs Bunton’s dirty blonde, almost sand brown hair was pretty close to Lavender’s tone, and from what I could see, the two also shared a similar greenish eye colour. In addition to having sizable busts, of course.

“I’d been planning to shut my pompous niece up by flattening you myself,” the art professor explained pleasantly while she picked her shirt up from the floor and put it back on. “After all, what kind of a teenager would go around bragging to have nicer tits than someone even her dear old auntie can out-boob?” A few of the girls snorted at the mere idea, and Mrs Bunton nodded knowingly. “Exactly.”

“Well, I’m sorry to have disappointed you then,” my girlfriend replied slowly, meeting the older woman’s gaze and giving her a small smile. “Though one would’ve thought that losing the championship title to Ginny, and now to me, had already taken care of that particular case of overblown ego?”

The busty art teacher let out a dry chuckle. “Unfortunately, Lavender’s aplomb is made of sterner stuff. Besides, I understand you haven’t actually managed to beat her yet?”

“Only because she couldn’t make it through Angelina’s jugs,” Fleur countered with a huff. “Your niece had her chance to face me again last Saturday, but blew it.”

“Oh?” Mrs Bunton replied, looking curious. I watched her turn to scrutinize the tall, athletic ebony girl. “I hadn’t heard about that. Of course, Lavender doesn’t exactly advertise her defeats. As rare as they are.”

“She didn’t actually lose to Angie, though,” Natalie pointed out helpfully. “They had a draw.” She flinched at the icy glare the black girl directed at her, but Mrs Bunton quickly reclaimed Angelina’s attention.

“Interesting…” the art teacher mused as she studied the ebony beauty’s rack closely. “A commendable feat all the same. My niece, despite her obvious lack of intellectual talent, is no pushover in the tit department,” she reassured the tall third-year. “I should know, seeing how I was the one to break her in this summer.”

Mrs Bunton’s latest reveal was greeted by a tense silence, and she snickered. “Something of a rite of passage in our family, don’t ask. She was quite good for a first-timer, although I would like to think my own breasts were firmer when I was her age. Somewhat bigger, too,” the professor added almost as an afterthought, doing her best to look modest. And failing miserably.

“During her time here as a student, Mrs Bunton held the esteemed top title for two consecutive years,” the headmistress pointed out from the staff’s side of the audience. “And retired undefeated, if I recall correctly?”

The teacher in question nodded proudly. “Indeed. My win-loss record has naturally gotten a bit worse over the years, but I still beat most of my challengers.” She let her words sink in for a moment, before continuing. “Which, considering they tend to be reigning school champions, is pretty damn good for an old bird, don’t you think?”

Everyone nodded empathically, and I could see Alicia’s forlorn face brightening up slightly. It turned out she was in rather good company after all.

As the gathering had finally come to its end, the teachers rose from their seats, with me and my classmates following their example. We bid each other farewell, but just as I turned to head towards the door, the headmistress cleared her voice.

“Needless to say, everything you’ve seen and heard here tonight is strictly confidential. You may discuss the test of maturity only amongst yourselves, the staff and the alumni. The younger students will have to wait for their turn. Do I make myself clear?”

She received the third-years’ nods and murmurs of acknowledgement with a stern smile, before waving us off.

*~*~*

Fleur and I made our way back to the head boy and girl’s dormitory in contemplative silence, our minds still busy processing everything that’d happened. It had definitely been an eventful night. As we rounded the last corner, I noticed that someone was waiting for us by the dorm’s door. Someone dressed in a bright red, fluffy bathrobe and a matching santa hat.

Fleur broke into melodious laughter as she took in Susan’s attire, leaning against me for support and making a show of wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. “Hey, you’re the one who told me to wear this!” the voluptous first-year whined, looking both annoyed and embarrassed at the same time.

“I did, didn’t I?” my girlfriend conceded with a grin, struggling to contain her giggles. “Well, I’m glad you remembered. Red really suits you.” Susan huffed, crossing her arms over her bust as she glared at the blonde. I used the opportunity to give the top-heavy firstie a quick once over, admiring her plump, fertile-looking figure and ample curves. While Susan wasn’t skinny or toned, her extra padding had sure gone to the right places, giving the redhead a cushy, soft and highly fuckable appearance. I felt a sudden urge to shove Susan against the wall and pump her full of my cum.

“Sorry if you had to wait a bit,” Fleur murmured as she held the dormitory door open for the girl, not seeming to pay any attention to her boyfriend’s predicament. She was of course well aware of what the teacher vs student titfight had done to my already high levels of randiness. “I really had expected the Christmas gathering to end sooner.”

Susan shrugged, glancing at her petite wristwatch. “It’s okay, I only arrived a moment ago. It’s two minutes to nine now.”

We all filed in, Fleur giving me a cheeky smile as I passed her, and confirming that she had in fact caught on to my gawking. “What d’you say Susan, should we put on a little show to warm Ced up?” she said aloud, ignoring my pleading look. “That way he can enjoy a bit of girl-on-girl action before joining in on the fun.”

“Sure thing,” the redhead replied. “It’s not every day I get to make out with a world-class hottie like you. But I WILL get to ride on Cedric’s big dick later on, right?” My girlfriend grinned. “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

Susan glanced at me from under her lashes, licking her lips. “Great, I’m looking forward to that. Okay then. Let’s show him the wares, shall we?”

Still maintaining eye contact with me, she slowly undid her robe, letting it fall to the floor. My eyes immediately flew to the firsty’s large, pale globes, drinking in the softly jiggling ocean of titflesh on display. The redhead had been blessed with a truly massive rack, her breasts looking even bigger than Mrs Bunton’s hefty knockers while still maintaining an enviably rounded, full shape. They weren’t pert like my girlfriend’s compact DDs to be sure, but sagged far less than one would’ve expected given their size, the pronounced wobbles being the only outward sign of their considerable weight. All in all, I thought Susan had a pretty damn epic pair of boobs. She would’ve made an awesome page three girl.

Fleur whistled, pausing to ogle at the sight. She’d already whipped off her own clothes, and was facing the redhead in just panties and bra. “Damn girl, I bet you could feed an entire village with those things.” Susan chortled audibly. “Haven’t tried, but yeah, probably. Now, can we see yours? Or did seeing my amazing jugs make you feel a bit insecure? It’s okay Fleurie,” the first-year cooed cutely, grinning at my girlfriend’s sour expression, “We can’t all have won the jackpot in boob lottery.”

“Oh, can’t we?” the modelesque French girl snapped, flinging away her brassiere. No matter how many times I got to see them, I knew I’d never get tired of Fleur’s big, perfect orbs. They sat proudly on her chest, firm and powerful, looking almost perky despite their impressive heft. Though my girlfriend wasn’t as busty as the redhead, her incredible combination of large size and pert shape meant that she could face even the most massive of sets with her head held high. Susan had the volume, but Fleur had the firmness.

“As much as I’d enjoy flattening those udders for a second time, you’re here for a different reason,” my girlfriend told the full-figured firstie. “I’ve tamed your big boobs, Susan. I’ve made them mine. And now, you’re going to pay homage to your betters.”

I watched as the two young women stared at each other for a moment, their faces identical masks of pride and confidence. Finally, Susan gave a small nod. “Fine. You did win that match. By the breadth of a hair, I might add, but still. My boobs are yours for one night.”

“Not just your boobs,” Fleur murmured softly, stepping closer. “I own ALL of you tonight.” Her lips stopped just short of the redhead’s, both girls gazing into the other’s eyes while their breaths mixed together. “Body, mind and soul.”

Susan smirked, shaking her head slightly. “Body, yes. But the others? Those you’re going to have to take by force. If you can, that is.” I watched the French blonde’s mouth morph into a predatory grin. “Oh, that won’t be a problem. Trust me.”

She withdrew a step or two, turning towards me. I saw Fleur point a finger at the armchair next to me. “Why don’t you have a seat, Ced? This might take a while.” I swallowed but did as I was told. Just as I’d turned my gaze back to the girls, I saw Fleur slide her sheer black knickers down her long, svelte legs. With a playful grin, she kicked them straight into my lap. “There, look after those will you?”

Both young women were now stark naked, standing in the middle of our cozy common room and drinking in each other’s bodies. I could hear the logs crackling in the fireplace, giving off precious heat and creating shadows which danced against the cream-coloured rug covering the floor. The flames also caused Fleur’s and Susan’s smooth skins seem to glow in the warm light, enhancing the girls’ already impressive curves.

“This is going to be even hotter than I thought,” Susan grinned. Her fleshy frame looked soft and comfortable next to my girlfriend’s more slender figure, but I would’ve challenged any red-blooded male not to stare. Sometimes you didn’t need to be thin to be sexy.

“Agreed. I’ll have so much fun shagging your brains out,” Fleur breathed out huskily, clearly enjoying the way her opponent’s eyes darkened with desire. The French girl’s own body had often been compared to that of a Greek goddess, and with good reason. It was perfectly proportioned, lean yet shapely, and could’ve easily put most bikini models to shame.

I watched my girlfriend lean forward, slowly bringing her lips to Susan’s and brushing them together. The redhead upped the ante immediately, wrapping her arms around the older girl and capturing her mouth in a searing, passionate kiss. Fleur let a a soft grunt at the first-year’s unexpected aggressiveness, responding to the kiss and grabbing hold of Susan’s well-padded shoulders. I could hear the girls’ muffled moans as their tongues rolled over and around each other, struggling for dominance. The French blonde was the slightly taller of the two, and Susan had to angle her head back as they continued their incredibly arousing snog-fest. Still, the redhead also an advantage of her own, using her greater body mass to steer Fleur backwards and pinning the gorgeous third-year against a wall. My girlfriend let out a surprised yelp against Susan’s lips, but continued to kiss back. To me, it almost looked like they were trying to suffocate each other by sucking away all the air.

While Fleur and Susan’s mouths were engaged in the all-out snogging duel, I saw their prodigious chests meet in another kind of competition. Both sets of large, round breasts shifted deliciously against one another, supple flesh pushing out to sides slightly as it tried to force the opposing pair to yield. Neither pair seemed to be making much headway against the other, and I licked my lips unconsciously as I watched my girlfriend’s gorgeous boobs flatten at the tip, compressing in a mirror image to Susan’s massive, heavy orbs.

Most girls would’ve been pleased, overjoyed even, to see their tits match the voluptuous redhead’s jugs so evenly. Susan was impressively firm for her size after all, and could pancake an average set without even trying. But my girlfriend was anything but average. Under normal conditions her perfect, dense tits should’ve been able to dig at least a bit into the firsty’s bigger rack, their pert shape and legendarily thick breast-tissue giving Fleur the edge in a close embrace. I could tell it’d been the entirely right decision for the French girl not to face Mrs Bunton tonight, despite all the ribbing from staff we’d have to endure over their victory. Seeing how even Alicia’s fresh, high-caliber boobs hadn’t been able to beat the busty art professor, there was a very real risk that my girlfriend’s still recovering pair would’ve succumbed to the mature woman’s pounding as well. Mrs B might be an old broad, but she was an old broad with some seriously potent jugs.

Speaking of serious jugs, as I looked at Susan, I saw that the robustly built redhead had lifted my girlfriend’s arms above her head, trapping them against the wall. She seemed to be rolling her torso back and forth slowly, rubbing their ample chests together and letting the blonde feel both the weight and the density of her huge, round boobs as they sought to grind the smaller pair flat. Fleur’s grunts and groans were growing louder, and after a while I heard them turn into desperate moans. The blonde used her left foot to tap Susan’s right shin, signalling a submission. Fleur gasped mightily once the redheaded first-year finally pulled away, and gulped for air.

“Fuck, what was that about!?!” the French beauty panted, looking rather disoriented. “I couldn’t breathe!”

“I know,” Susan smirked back, also winded but clearly faring better than my girlfriend. “That was kinda the idea. I reckoned that between the wall, my mouth and these big tits, you’d have nowhere to go,” the redhead explained in a proud voice. “How did you like my puppies, by the way? Still think your weak little ones are better?”

“Oh, you’re going to regret that, Susan,” the French blonde hissed, trying to get her heavy breathing under control. I watched Fleur’s tits jiggle slightly with every rise and fall of her chest, a clear indication that while they might look fully patched up on the surface, the inner tissue was still recuperating. “Besides, I’ve already proved that they are. One sly, dirty trick doesn’t change shit.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault you can’t handle a real pair of breasts. If they start to pancake yours again, just say the word and I’ll stop,” Susan sing-songed, giving her massive orbs a quick bounce and pursing her lips cutely.

“My boobs were fine, and you know it,” Fleur countered angrily. “It’s the oxygen that became an issue. But if you really want a titfight, I’m sure we can work something out!”

“Ooh, can’t wait!” Susan smirked, letting her rack fall down with a dull thud. “You got me last time Fleur, but only because I was still pretty inexperienced. And even then it was a close call. This time, I’m ready for you.” The redhead turned her gaze towards me for a moment. “Get ready to watch these huge, round globes pound your girlfriend’s perky little boobs away. You’re going to love how Fleur’s prized udders slowly loose their shape and melt…”

“No, you idiot,” the gorgeous French blonde interrupted Susan’s taunting, rolling her eyes. “Tonight’s all about Ced and I.” The plump first-year looked up in obvious disappointment, even putting on a small pout.

“Oh, don’t worry, I will flatten those overgrown melons soon enough,” Fleur laughed. “But you’ll have to wait for your turn. Right now, I’m much more concerned about destroying your weak, throbbing pussy. Prepare to cum like a fountain.”

With that, Fleur reached out to grab the younger girl’s shoulders. She pulled her close, using Susan’s weight and momentum to toss the redhead down onto a thick, furry rug. Susan landed on her back with a muffled ‘oof’, and Fleur jumped right after her, mounting the stunned first-year. I watched my girlfriend wrap her long, lean legs around the redhead’s much fleshier thighs.

Susan bucked, trying to twist her plump, well-padded body around. The definition in Fleur’s thighs became apparent as she squeezed them tightly around her prey, thwarting Susan’s initial attempt to escape the pin. Fleur readjusted her position, shifting her balance, and I looked on with growing excitement as my girlfriend brought her hand to the redhead’s substantial globe, cupping it gently. She gave the teat a good shake, licking her lips and grinning at the way Susan’s pale flesh seemed to ripple and wave against her palm

“Mmm, so nice and comfy. These should make great pillows for my firm boobs,” the French blonde grinned. “Lie still, Susie. I’m just getting started.”

Without waiting for a comeback, Fleur reached down, sliding her other hand between the redhead’s thick, meaty legs. I felt my eyebrows disappear into my hair as she started stroking Susan’s pussy, elicing a long and shaky moan from the younger girl.

“Wow, you’re already soaked! Horny little girl,” Fleur chuckled as she sped up her pace. I could see the first-year’s eyes close while my girlfriend pleasured her, loud grunts and whimpers betraying Susan’s growing excitement. Fleur seemed to realize that her prey wasn’t going anywhere for the time being, and moved her right thigh upwards, sliding it between the redhead’s legs. Susan tried to squirm away half-heartedly, but stopped the moment my girlfriend’s smooth, toned thigh made contact with her pussy lips.

“Oh fuuuuuck,” Susan managed.

“Yeah, that’s right,” I watched Fleur breathe into Susan’s ear. “You’re all mine now.”

She started rubbing her thigh up and down against the redhead’s crotch, planting a gentle kiss on her younger girl’s lips. Susan looked like she’d already surrendered to the no doubt excuisite sensations emanating from her core, and my girlfriend began to move her thigh even faster, grinding the quivering clit beneath her. For a moment, Susan’s head rolled back, and an animalistic moan of pleasure escaped her mouth. Fleur held the firsty in place with her arms and smiled knowingly.

“Feels good, doesn’t it? It’s okay, Susie, you can just relax and enjoy the ride. You’re way out of your league here.”

I could feel my own excitement building as well while I watched the two females go at it. My girlfriend’s dominance was seriously turning me on, and I briefly thought back to her bout against Hermione some weeks earlier. The brainy brunette had put up a much more convincing fight between the sheets, very nearly beating the blonde sex goddess at her own game. Fleur had just barely managed to drive the bookworm over the edge before she succumbed to Hermione’s considerable sexual prowess herself, the French girl’s dazed and shaken face betraying a profound shock. I wondered if the brunette knew exactly how close to conquering my girlfriend she’d been. Based on what Fleur had told me about her previous escapades with the fairer sex, losing a sexfight was almost unheard-of for her.

It certainly seemed that way back on the comfortable-looking rug, where my girlfriend had started to play with Susan’s humongous jugs. The redhead’s teats were topped by stiff, pink nipples at least half an inch long, and I stared in fascination as Fleur caressed the left globe gently with her hand, squeezing and kneading it, while her lips were pleasuring the other orb. Susan was panting heavily, and shook her head from side to side as she tried to ignore the jolts of ecstasy that my girlfriend’s intimate treatment of her breasts was giving her. “You’ve got such nice, big tits, Susie,” Fleur murmured, teasing the right nub with her mouth. “And such hard little nipples. You’re not getting off on this by any chance, are you?” the French blonde snickered as she continued toying with the firsty’s expansive rack.

While my girlfriend manipulated the set of mammaries beneath her, Susan’s eyes were fluttering as the redhead struggled to focus. Fleur sat back a bit, reaching behind her to fondle Susan’s soaking wet pussy with her other hand. In doing so, she lost some leverage, and left Susan’s arms completely unattended. I watched the first-year’s left arm snake up and grip Fleur’s right breast, while the other limb found its way to Fleur’s crotch. The French girl’s surprise was obvious, and she let out a frustrated groan as Susan began to rub both the pert orb and the sensitive labia. Cursing in her native language, Fleur leaned forward and released her hold on the redhead’s pussy, moving the free appendix to protect her own crotch instead. Even so, her thigh still continued to grind against Susan’s sensitive pussy lips. Both girls were grunting and groaning, but did their best to maul the other’s shapely body.

I looked on as Susan’s fingers squeezed and rubbed my girlfriend’s engorged nipple, making it thick and hard with every pass of her skillful touch. Each young woman was absolutely concentrated on their task. It was difficult to tell how much time passed while the strange pleasuring fight dragged on, but ultimately I head Susan begin to squeal. My girlfriend’s mouth had apparently found a pulse point on the redhead’s neck, and her thigh kept rubbing the firsty’s clit furiously. Susan let out a deep, long groan and her chunky legs seemed to spasm.

“You fucking slut,” she moaned in almost unbearable pleasure, blinking away tears. The redhead bridged her back, releasing Fleur’s breast and bringing a hand to protect her wildly spasming pussy.

Fleur grinned triumphantly and brought her arms to grab the firsty’s wrists, forcing them above Susan’s head. The redhead moaned again as their big breasts met at the tips, compressing against each other. My girlfriend continued to rub her toned leg against her rival’s clit, slowly and purposefully, while her lips traced soft kisses across Susan’s jawline. The buxom first-year looked entirely out of it, appearing to have given up the fight and practically begging Fleur to put her out of her misery. Susan was moaning incoherently, keeping her eyes closed as she waited for the torture to end.

“Atta girl,” Fleur breathed into the redhead’s damp hair. “I see you’ve finally accepted your place, beneath me. Now, it’s time for a reward. Cum for your queen.” I watched my girlfriend slide her right hand down to Susan’s gushing pussy, pushing two fingers inside it. She moved them in and out, slowly at first, but then increasing the speed until her hand was almost a blur. The firsty gurgled weakly, but didn’t orgasm. Finally, Fleur stopped the fast thrusting in favour of rubbing her fingers across the redhead’s clit. The response was instant. Susan’s eyes flew open, wide and staring far out into the distance.

“Ooohhh shhiiiitt,” the voluptous first-year screamed, her pussy erupting over my girlfriend’s nimble, talented hand. The redhead thrusted her hips against Fleur repeatedly, gasping and howling like an animal in heat while she continued to ride out the intensely powerful orgasm. The French beauty really was a master at her craft.

I could feel my member throbbing painfully in my trousers, ready to go off at the slightest touch. I watched the gorgeous third-year pull her hand away from Susan’s still quivering crotch, studying it with interest. She placed a finger near the redhead’s half-open lips, and the girl sucked it into her mouth with no hesitation, cleaning her own juices almost hungrily.

“Mmm, you look pretty hot when you come, Susie,” Fleur told the first-year, caressing Susan’s flushed, sweaty cheek softly. “We’re going to have lots of fun tonight, I think. But now that the pecking order is all sorted out, how ’bout we let Cedric have his first go at you?” Fleur grinned evilly, wiping her still wet hand onto the redhead’s heaving, jiggly mammaries.

“Bring that cock over here, Ced. I want you to fuck her raw.”

This Story Will Be Continued in Chapter 10 — Click Here to Go There!

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