Athlete vs. Saleswoman

Many of you will remember Susan's epic battle against Barbara in September 1974. Susan, the newcomer and one-time cosmetics saleswoman, roundly trounced her blonde foe. As a newcomer Susan wasn't aware of the informal rules that existed in apartment house wrestling, the rules that allowed the victrix to have her way sexually with her defeated opponent. The only caveat being that it had to take place in front of the audience. That state of affairs didn't last long.

Susan became an accomplished regular on the circuit and while losing few matches won far more and forced herself on several beaten women for her sexual pleasures. She quickly became a favorite who was feared and respected by the other grappling vixens.

During one match in the summer of 1976 in which Susan was a spectator looking over possible opponents, she watched a semi-professional tennis star name Debbie mauled a redheaded beauty in an especially sweaty match. Debbie was a ferocious brunette who gloried in other women's humiliation. She was especially fond of changing out of her trademark, red bikini and slipping on a black, rubber bikini molded with a ten-inch cock,and savagely fucking her victim, bringing her to tears. Debbie was hell on wheels, and Susan wanted her.

I met with both women over cocktails the next week. You could cut the tension with a knife. Susan, a well-endowed redhead, wore a Chinese silk sheath, snuggly buttoned up the side, all the way up to a mandarin collar. The jade silk showed her full figure at its best, and her silk stockings whispered as she crossed her legs, showing a delicious slice of thigh as well black pumps with four inch heels. Her nipples looked as if they'd rip through the silk and her ass showed the delightful outlines of a garterbelt and bikini. Debbie stared daggers at the fire pie, her black hair framing a beautiful, angry, arrogant face.

She wore snug, rust colored, raw silk pants without any lining. Underneath were tiny, black string bikini panties. Her matching blouse revealed a black bra that strained to hold her magnificent breasts.

It would be a sex wrestling match, with both beauties wearing dildos. The winner would be the woman who fucked and made her opponent cum first. Tongues and fingers were fine, but the winner had to fuck her opponent with her strap-on until the loser came. The loser would be hers for whatever post-match delights she could think up. I nearly burst my zipper. Christ, I sometimes think that I'd have gladly lost a match against either one and let her fuck me silly. That's how hot these two were.

They shook hands, each beauty taking the measure of the other, sneering contemptuously. As Debbie left she purposefully brushed against Susan's exposed thigh and jostled the redhead's right tit with her own left. Susan nearly leapt out of her chair. I had to restrain her. She felt every bit as good as she looked. Debbie walked out and gave that bitchy throw of her hair and over-the-shoulder look that she would make famous in her match against Helene in February 1978. Susan asked me if I'd enjoyed myself. I did. Her full body and massive breasts strained to overcome my grip; I held her even tighter. Unfortunately for me that's all I got. She shrugged me away and strutted out of the lounge. The match would take place next week.

The night of the match arrived. The audience was smaller and more select than usual. Gentlemen wore black, and women cocktail dresses. Champagne and other drinks flowed freely. A goodly amount of money was wagered, with the odds slightly in Susan's favor. She was bigger, more experienced, and her reputation following her destruction of Susan still carried some weight. Dave entered the room and joined in the small talk. He was every bit as excited as the rest of us, only better at keeping his cool. The man was ice.

Debbie surreptitiously entered the apartment and went to her room to change. She stripped down to her bra and bikini and stretched a bit. Opening a bag that she'd carried in, she pulled out her uniform for the evening's battle and laid it out on the bed. It was kink plus. A dominatrix's delight; a masochist's wet dream. I'd have gladly become her bitch. Debbie smiled as she slipped, or rather painted on her red, latex dildo bikini. It was a low-slung affair with a ten-inch cock in front and an opening for her cunt. She snugged her cock-mounted into place place, smoothing it here and there, giving her pussy a bit of a pinch, as if to remind herself where she was. Next came her matching garter belt and demi-bra with her nipples just below the top, seemingly fighting to emerge into the cool, fresh air. She put on red stockings and thigh-high red boots with four-inch heels--high, but not too high. Next was a red, patent leather collar, buckled around her neck. The final touch was red, latex opera gloves. She meditated for the next few moments.

As Debbie prepared Susan made a grand entrance. She gloried in the applause, chatted briefly, and then headed for her room. Because of her status on the circuit her bikini and accouterments were laid out for her. She donned an outfit that matched Debbie's, but in black and every bit as alluring.

I knocked on Debbie's door to give her a thirty-second warning. She nodded. I went next to Susan's door, knocked, opened, and announced "thirty seconds." She ignored me. Susan, as was Debbie, was coating her cock with plenty of lubricant, greasing it until it shined brightly in the room's light. As if on cue both of these magnificent women entered the room, resplendent in latex, radiating power, arrogance, lust, and contempt. They strode purposefully into the center of the room, their lubed cocks bouncing slightly and tits straining to free themselves. Their asses, snugly cradled by their dildo bikinis, moved in such ways as to highlight their definition with every step. Their cocks gleamed. Their eyes burned brightly. Both women clenched their gloved fists and loosened their arms.

Dave stepped into the center of the room, between these erotic amazons. As cool as he was, even he was intimidated by these women—and with good cause. He introduced the beauties and the groundwork. No time limits, no falls, no submission. It was an all out sex fight, a free-for-fuck-all match. Debbie and Susan would wrestle, trying to dominate the other, finally fucking her, and making her victim cum, establishing one warrior's dominance and another's submission. Moll stepped back and announced, "ladies, if you please," and then it began.

They both rushed each other, colliding with such force that they knocked the wind out of one another. Rather than falling away or separating they slapped at each other, filling the room with grunts and the sounds of latex against latex. Debbie grabbed at Susan's red hair and shook the buxom beauty's head like a rag doll. It didn't last long. Susan quickly drove her latex-booted knee up into Debbie's crotch. Debbie's cock deflected it a bit, lessening the power of the blow. Nonetheless it got Debbie's attention. Susan did it once more, this time getting Debbie squarely in her cunt. The brunette let go Susan's lush mane and staggered back a bit on her four-inch heels, stunned. Susan, bent slightly at the knees, launched her own body like a missile at Debbie's waist and drove her down. Both women fell to the ground, an erotic mass of latex wrapped tits, ass, pussy, and anger.

Susan thought to end the struggle quickly. Grabbing the base of Debbie's greased, red cock she moved it up slightly and prepared to impale the now writhing brunette battler with her shining, black latex lance. It was an amateur's move. Susan knew better, but she didn't act it. Maybe it was that hot-tempered Irish blood coursing through her veins. Who knows? As Susan got close enough to penetrate Debbie, the next thing she felt was a roundhouse of a slap followed by a boot to the chest. Susan was lucky one Debbie's heel didn't impale one her tits. More shocked then anything, Susan briefly retreated while Debbie got to her feet, rotated her head, and stretched out her arms. They approached one another.

Instead of rushing in they probed each other for a few moments with slaps and feints to reveal any weaknesses. Susan reached forward and grabbed Debbie's cock head, pulling the athlete into her. Debbie assisted her by propelling her ripe body forward, extending her arms ever so slightly, wrapping them around the big redhead, squeezing for life and lifting. With only one arm free Susan beat a tattoo on Debbie's head as best she could. Debbie's years of athletic conditioning and tennis were paying dividends. Her muscles bulged and stretched ever more tightly her latex opera gloves. Susan was feeling the incredible pressure in ribs; she wrapped her free arm around Debbie's head and pulled it tightly into the valley formed by her bounteous breasts, hoping temporarily to smother her tormentor and regroup for her own attack. Debbie's lovely face was sandwiched in that gorgeous rack. She could taste and smell the tang of Susan's sweat, the bight of her perfume, and enveloping smell of the latex. Still Debbie squeezed. Still Susan continued her counterattack. Debbie made the next move. She dropped to one knee and brought

Susan's crotch slamming down upon her other knee. She released the redhead who fell on her back cradling her cunt in her gloved hands, moaning softly.

Debbie kicked her swiftly in the ribs, and again, and again. She took Susan's left arm and left leg, putting her in a bow and arrow hold, alternately savagely digging her toe and heel into the Irish woman's waist. Just as quickly Debbie pushed Susan over, onto her belly, the black greased cock pressing up into Susan's stomach.

Debbie climbed aboard and put her victim into a full nelson. She growled into Susan's ear that she was about to "fuck your lights out and make you my bitch." Debbie increased the pressure, but Susan lay there meekly. The force of Debbie's bearhug, followed by her pussy's one-way trip to Debbie's knee seriously wounded her. But she wasn't out, not yet.

Debbie thought that Susan was primed and ready for her lubed cock. She was wrong. As Debbie brought Susan upward she loosened her grip on the wounded redhead, who responded with an elbow to the right side of Debbie's head. The brunette went down, clutching her head. Despite her injuries, Susan continued her assault. This time she had to fuck Debbie quickly. The first attempt had been a mistake; the second time was a necessity. She was running out of steam and couldn't take much more punishment. She undid her collar walked to the stunned brunette, dropped on her chest, and grabbed Debbie's hands. Susan cuffed her wrists together with her collar. She took a short breather resting on Debbie's face. It was a beautiful sight. A black latex-dressed redhead facesitting her red-clad enemy, a shiny red cock waving impotently in the air, a threatening black cock in the victim's face.

Susan slid down Debbie's body as best she could. Latex might be sexy as all hell, but it's nowhere as smooth as two satin when it comes to contact and movement. Susan spread apart Debbie's knees, forcing the brunette's legs backward. She held Debbie in position and called for a jar of lubricant. Smearing a handful on her cock, wiping the excess on Debbie's pussy, she mounted her prey and began driving her ten inches of power into the brunette's snatch. Debbie yelled out, she screamed, and she struggled. Susan determinedly pistoned the amazon, her cock sliding in and out powerfully. Susan was too exhausted to enjoy her victory. Normally she'd laughed mockingly at her conquests, licked her lips, and tongue fucked her prey. Not tonight. Debbie had drained her, indeed the fucking itself was tiring. Debbie gasped as if she were about to cum. Susan reacted by redoubling her efforts. There was the old light, the cruel sexual pleasure she took from dominating her victims. In her final thrusts Susan withdrew too far and her slimy, shining cock slipped out. Now it was Debbie's chance.

Susan moved leaned back to grab her cock for reinsertion, ready to slam dance Debbie's twat with it. Debbie, who'd been biding her time, rolled slightly back and caught Susan's neck in a devastating scissors. She locked her booted ankles and stretched them out straight, choking off Susan's breathing. Susan panicked because she realized that her game was up. She pounded her fists weakly against Debbie's thighs, but to no avail. Debbie kept it simple. She squeezed. After a bit Susan's resistance ended. She laid on the floor dripping sweat, her greased cock convulsing with her sobs. Debbie, her wrists still secured, spread apart Susan's legs. She was an honest-to-goodness firepie. Debbie wrapped her hands around Susan's cock, wiped what could off of it, and greased her own love pole. She plunged it into Susan's snatch with a force that should've taken off the beaten woman's head. Debbie was all business, mean, cold-hearted business. She drove that piece of latex into Susan with a vengeance, wrapping Susan's hair in her greased hands as she went up and down, in and out. Debbie turned Susan around, putting her on her hands and knees with her ass in the air. The dominatrix slammed her piece into Susan from behind, pulling the beaten woman's hair backward, licking her earlobes and neck.

Susan didn't last much longer, nor for that matter did Debbie. The big redhead began convulsing in wave after wave of multiple orgasms, screaming, crying, moaning, and shaking. Debbie soon followed.

I unshackled Debbie's wrists as she stood up. She kicked Susan over, onto her back and stroked her cock as if to say "I'm the boss, and don't you forget it." Briefly Debbie pulled Susan up and forced her to her knees. She forced her ten-incher into Susan's mouth and slid it in and out, holding her head and forcing the cock ever deeper into the defeated woman's mouth. Debbie slapped her, and she crumpled to the floor sobbing. As the brunette strode away she gave her trademark dismissive, look to Susan. What a night. What a fight.