She was slim and lithe, with a short crew cut of blonde hair, and blazing blue eyes. I felt the tingle of anticipation in the pit of my stomach as we started to strip, my eyes painting her body with obvious appreciation as she limbered up, almost provocatively, her gaze fixed on me the entire while. She was sensuously shaped, like a feminine David come to life. Her breasts stood proud on her chest, capped in pale coral nipples with wrinkled areola that stiffened, as if reacting to my gaze. I licked my lips, and deliberately glanced down between her legs, noticing the clean-shaven mound.

I watched as her breathing slowed as I stood before her, naked as the day I was born. Her eyes glittered with wicked delight, as I flexed my body. I knew what she was thinking – my body, and hers, were almost mirror images of one another. Save and except for our hair – mine was shoulder length, left free, in contrast with hers – we were almost twins. Two women, in the fullness of our femininity.

We took a moment, pausing as we gazed at each other, satisfying our need to admire the other, each of us savoring the knowledge that we would soon engage in a writhing mess of flesh, each burdened with the purpose of bringing the other to climax against her will, yet both consenting to the same.

She was the first to break the silence, moving on bare feet to a table in the corner, where a bottle of lavender scented body oil in glass stood. I licked my lips as she smiled at me knowingly, pouring a dollop of oil into her hands. I watched as she began to oil herself, moving only when she offered the bottle to me.

I took it in silence and applied the oil, watching as she rubbed her breasts, her fingers teasing her already hard nipples, her hands then drifting down to her hips. She spread the oil until her entire body glistened with it, under the warm lights that hung above. There was a slight shimmer about her form now, the oil throwing in sharp relief every muscled curve, every soft plumpness, her entire femininity thrown into sharp relief.

The oil, coating my body, left me feeling strangely warm, almost on edge. There was an almost aphrodisiacal quality about the scent of lavender that mingled in the air, hanging hot and heavy with the promise of contest and competition.

A sudden idea seized me, and I acted upon it. We were here to compete, after all – not just physically, but in a game of seduction as well. And so I decided to commence my seduction of this woman, to lead instead of follow.

My core tightened, and I dropped my upper body down, hands reaching for the mats in front of me. The oiled state of my palms gave me pause, and I compensated by keeping them wider than I normally would. My feet kicked up in the air, and I flexed my ass, holding myself steady in a handstand. My biceps flexed, and my elbows locked, the weight of my body resting on my hands. I felt the blood rush to my head.

And then I began to spread my legs, opening them wide, but slowly, as if to draw out the moment. Toes pointed, my thighs began to open, like the unfurling of a book, slowly…slowly…revealing my pussy to her.

She watched me carefully, and from my vantage point I could see that I held her in rapt attention. Her eyes feasted on me, my body, naked and glistening in oil. I felt her gaze caress my tense body in a way that made no secret of her desire for me. I watched as she bit her lower lip, almost subconsciously. My thighs spread apart to their furthest point, and I smiled, knowing that this gave her an unbridled view of my pussy, plump and slick in oil and my own excitement.

This was exhibitionism in in all its glory, one woman displaying herself for another. Me, in a handstand, naked before another naked woman, my thighs open wide…a provocative offering, inviting her to see all of me in full display, all for the sole purpose of turning her on.

And I was succeeding.

I could see the flush on her face, evident even through the sheen of oil. The way she bit her lower lip, the way her eyes were riveted to my body. Her face was frozen in an expression of desire, lost in the offering between my thighs. Her hand moved to her left breast, cupping it with her palm, fingers reaching to pinch a nipple – an unconscious movement on her part. I was looking at her neck just as she visibly swallowed, her throat parched dry. Her entire manner was that of one taken aback by the sheer wantonness of my actions, the brazenness by which I had put myself, my body, and my strength on display.

Our eyes met, and a look of recognition passed between us. She had invited me in, led me along, and now I had taken the lead, pulled it from her with a single act that had robbed her of her sense of control of the events of this night. She was the spider, tangled in her own web. She recognized it, but could do nothing about it.

She moved forward, each step in almost dreamlike trance. As she closed the distance between us, I lowered myself down, bringing my feet delicately back to the ground. The mat yielded under the weight of my body as I laid there, blonde hair fanning around my head like a halo. Her feet came to a stop just above my head, giving me a glimpse of her womanhood – soft, plump, bare, yet coated not just with oil but with a hint – no, clear evidence of her arousal. Her clit, between those full lips, had emerged, crystal clear proof of just how turned on she was by my actions.

It hit me then, as I laid there, how the scene now looked. I was lying flat on my back, my legs were bent, almost seductively, my arms by my sides. It was as though I were laid out submissively before her, with my back slightly arched and my thighs opened, just a bit, as if inviting her to take my body as a prize. Yet though the tableau was that, the actual circumstance was markedly different. It was her who was claimed, it was she who had been captured. She who had led, was now being led.

She lowered herself down, and my gaze was drawn to her pussy. She was wet, and ripe for the taking. She straightened her legs behind her, bringing her body forward, her hands placed on the mats beside me now.

Her mouth came down on mine. And that was it. All the control I’d exerted over the past few minutes went, like water crashing through a broken dam. Her arms came up around my neck and mine came up against her back, fingers caressing well-formed shoulder blades, drawing over smooth, unblemished skin. I pulled her against me… my hands flattened against her back… and she was planked over me, up on the tips of her toes, kissing me as fiercely as I was kissing her.

I clung to her more tightly now, knotting my hands as if to find purchase in her short hair, conveying to her, with the firm, hungry press of my mouth on hers, that in that moment, I wanted her just as much as she wanted me.

Our eyes opened, simultaneously, even as our tongues wrestled for control in our mouths. Her oiled, firm arms began to circle my upper body, under my armpits, her fingers reaching to cup my clavicle. My own hands reached around her as we kissed, and my feet lifted my lower body up, feeling the pressure of her body as she sought to keep me pinned down.

The foreplay was over.

She pulled back, and the look on her face left me with little doubt that she was eager to fight for control, to regain the sense of dominance that she had when I first arrived. She moved herself around so that she was straddling me, her naked body melding over mine.

Our kiss grew harder, more forceful, hotter and more demanding. Neither one of us giving way to the other, each wishing to impose herself over the other woman. Her body tightened against me as she stretched herself over me, muscled limbs tensed and rippling over mine.

My feet spread, heels digging into the mats, and then I began to strain my body upwards against hers, transitioning from lying flat on my back to a full bridge, with my shoulders resting on the mats, but the rest of me, propped up by my soles, angled upwards. The movement lifted her clear off the mats, and our kiss was broken, only for our mouths to be enjoined once again, tongues seeking each other’s to renew their rivalry.

She clung to me tightly as I tried to twist sideways, not wanting to be made to dismount. Our eyes were locked in an intense gaze, her lips pulled back in a smile of genuine enjoyment. I mirrored the thrill of the physical challenge, savoring the test of wrestling this woman.

She applied her body downwards, trying to force my bridge back. Her arms tightened around my back. On my part, I kept my bridge standing, straining with every muscle of my body, line of muscle drawn taut across my skin. Her body was warm against mine, the friction of our skin on skin contact hotter still. I could sense her eagerness to exert control from on top, confident that gravity would do the work for her.

It was then that I suddenly lowered my hips, arching my body into a sinuous curve, as if I had been pinned under her. I let out a moan, which flowed through her mouth and down her throat. At the same time, I forced myself to relax, to yield under her. My hips, which by now were almost parallel to hers, slid with precise precision against her own, to tease our pussies grinding against one another.

That elicited an instant reaction. She reared her head back, her eyes roaming down, eager to take in the sight of me pinned below her. That was what I had been waiting for – the trap set, and her fallen inside. I thrust my hips upwards, pushing off with my feet, and in one smooth motion I had rolled her under me, our positions now reversed.

Instinct made her buck upwards, but I had anticipated this. My hands reached for her wrists, holding them down above her head. I lowered myself down on top of her. She strained against me, our bodies pressed together, our breasts forced together, our flat tummies and pelvic areas coming into close contact with each other’s. Her body pressed up against mine, but with her hands pinned by mine, she could find no purchase.

I tightened my grip around her torso. We laid there awhile, grinding each other’s oily breasts into our own, muscular torsos clamped together in sweating embraces. She proceeded to rotate her torso slightly against mine from below, her shoulders shifting wetly against the mats, effecting a mutual breast massage that enflamed us both with desire. Our eyes locked, intent on looking at each other’s faces, to judge the opposing woman’s reactions to what was being done. I trembled, almost involuntarily, as our erect nipples flicked together, unable to hide the pleasure of the nipple onslaught. She smiled, satisfied that even while under me, she was on the attack.

Licking my lips, I focused on her face, willing myself to channel my lust, my hunger and my desire into her. Staring into her eyes with as much feeling as I could muster, I curled my legs around hers. My soles slid over her oiled legs, curling themselves over her quads. Satisfied that I had enough purchase, I began to spread her thighs, which were already open, just a bit further. She squirmed against me, sensing, perhaps, what I was going to do, and in an attempt to pre-empt me, she pressed her warm crotch into mine.

The lips of our full pussies were wide apart as they met. The sensation was utterly delicious, and I felt a distinctly different flash of heat rush through me. She gyrated her hips with sybaritic intent, pushing up against mine, and I knew at that moment what she intended to do. And true to form, I felt her clit push against mine, pitting my most sensitive spot against hers. I squirmed violently, lifting my hips and bringing them down, pressing my pussy onwards, with the assistance of my top position, all in an effort to get the upper hand. We laid, crotch to crotch, both of us actively attempting to press our sex lips against the other’s clit, maneuvering our hips, cores held tightly. As our clits met, we both gasped simultaneously, exhaling at each other’s faces as we strained to invade the dripping sex of the other.

She had the advantage of experience. I felt her hips move, and then her labia clasped at my clit, like twin fingers finding a grip. I moaned, and she worked her kegels at the sound, as if trying to pull my clit deeper into her. I had tribbed before, but never in competitive fashion, and the sensation was intense and new.

With her hold on my clit she had me on a leash. She began to rub, slowly at first, but picking up pace, She worked her pussy against my clit gently, but firmly, a sensual massage with nothing more than her ripe lips. Her slit produced friction on my hard, tingling clit, bringing forth a throbbing sensation that made me mewl. I moved to raise my hips, but found that I could not…did not want to, eager to keep the slow, systemic thrusts from my opponent going. She was, I realized, making me a slave to my lust, an eager and willing player in the act leading up to my own defeat, drawn in to the wanton ravishment of my body.

We laid there, she and I, wildly humping against each other. Our glistening bodies, mine on top of hers, locked together in a writhing, sexual mess, lost in our mutual chase to voluntarily subjugate the other, consummating our frenzied battle for sexual dominance.

it dawned on me that I was being inexorably drawn to a finish, racing onwards to the edge of the cliff, approaching that fall into the unbridled sensation of a forced orgasm. Looking down at her, sensing the confidence in her movements, I had the uncanny sense that I could turn things around, if only I could surprise her again. She was, after all, someone used to control, a mistress of her private space. She had been taken aback, earlier, by my overtly lewd display of my body, and with her tether to control gone, had been drawn into the foggy mist of unknowable desire.

I began to move in slow, grinding circles, my abdominal muscles rolling, in retaliation against her erotic hold. This made her twitch, with the telltale signs of her inner thighs quivering, an involuntary muscular reaction to pleasure being inflicted back at her. It occurred to me that her whole body was stretched out like a bow, quivering, warm pulsating flesh against mine as we strove against each other for sexual supremacy.

The hell with it, I thought to myself, and drove in to her.

I straddled my grinding opponent, briefly thinking of all of the pussies that had been in a not dissimilar position before mine, and wondering how many of those other women she had taken before me. I braced myself with her under me, all the while, excessively lubricating her with my honey, smearing my juices over her wet pussy.

I could see that my sudden wanton abandon of any pretext of self-control had taken her back. She was breathing very heavily and fast, and it began to dawn on me now that even as she had taken control, she too had pushed herself inexorably forward to her own orgasm. Her face, streaked with sweat and smeared with oil, was red in the passion of the moment.

Her breathing grew faster and faster still, and her face took on an expression of surprise when I glanced down at her. Once again, she bit her lower lip, while her eyes grew wider as it occurred to her that she too was on the verge.

I thrust my hips faster, continuing the friction of pussy to pussy. She threw her head back, eyes half lidded, and her hands pushed against mine, where I had them pinned down, as if trying to shove me away…no, not me, but the pleasure that I was inflicting upon her.

I had her. On the precipice of my own defeat, I had her.

I kept her hovered over exquisitely on the edge of orgasm for what seemed a long time, knowing the telltale signs of ecstasy on her face. And then, with a single thrust, I allowed her to fall.

She began her orgasm, biting down on her lower lip, her face telling me that she had never felt such an overall intense feeling and never wanted it to end. She, who had been so certain in her control, so certain in her victory, could never imagine this moment, when it was her, not me, brought to the ignoble end of a forced orgasm. I felt her body tremble, and convulse, followed by a spray of her honey from her pussy, hitting mine, moisturizing me in her defeat as I savored every moment of my victory. Her vaginal muscles were convulsing with every second and pushing more of her juices out each time. Her breath hitched…it must have been ten convulsions before she would finally breathe again.

Her body went into a final spasm, very slowly quivering under me. Her eyes were wide in shock, an almost pained expression on her face giving way to shock and then resignation, all in but an instant, before her trembling body gave way as she lay flat on her back, pinned firmly under me, her scent hanging heavy in the air as she laid in her own puddle of cum, acknowledging her defeat.

I slid off her to lie down on the mats beside her body. My entire body felt as though I had just run a full marathon without a break. Every bit of me tingled with unfulfilled desire. But against that, there was a lack of certainty. I was in new territory. Her territory…now mine.

“You won.”

The words came out of her, harsh in the silence of the room.

“I did.” My own voice sounded shockingly loud. I turned to look at her. She was still lying in the puddle of her own cum, an arm thrown over her head. Her fit, muscled body shimmered under the glow of the lights. She looked at me, and I at her. I was struck at how things had changed – where once we were equals, now we were not. I had beaten her.

I was the better woman.

“What happens now?” I asked, but in truth, I already knew the answer.

She sat up, and looked at me wordlessly. I could tell that she was fighting back emotion, but she kept her voice impassive.

“Now you get your prize,” she said, and her voice cracked slightly.

She slid up, and crawled on all fours towards me. Without a word, knowing what she wanted, I opened my legs up. Her head dipped between my thighs, and her tongue lapped away at my victorious pussy. I let out a guttural moan, and her head dipped up. She shook her head. The expression on her face was unreadable.

“Not so fast. Savor it. Hold it in.” And then her head disappeared between my legs once again.

I could feel my pussy juice dripping down my inner thigh and I was growing more desperate with every passing minute to climax. But I could sense that my relief was still far off, as if, by some unknown rule, I was to hold back for as long as I could. Yet somehow I accepted that. This was a new experience for me. I felt like I was more in touch with my desire specifically because was prolonging the orgasm I craved, the orgasm I deserved.

Her tongue work was heavenly, and I was in ecstasy.

After a few minutes of this exquisite torture and continued licking, I propped myself up on my elbows and glanced down at her. Her head came up, the corners of her mouth wet with my honey.

“I’m going to cum,” I said. “On your face.”

A yearning, wistful expression passed over her. “And what do you want me to do?” she asked.

I felt a thrill of power as I spoke. “I want you to swallow.”

And she did, opening her mouth wide, taking in the torrent of my honey as I squirted on her face.

The End

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