War on the 85th Floor

They had thought about the moment, and their engagement for so long. Dreaming about it, both as they worked, and as they slept. It had driven, as a secret motivator, their every thought and action, for days and even months on end. Then, without warning, there it was, finally, the confrontation with their rival -- a chance for each of them to prove that they were the better woman, and hurt she who so willingly broke their heart.

So endeavor they did, mashing their silk bra-bound tits against each other. Rubbing them across each other, until so great became their need for more, that they both separated just for a moment, each grasping wildly to unclasp their enemy's bra. It took only a few seconds, and a single move to remove, and then they re-engaged, slamming the flesh of their tits together for the first time. The feeling was incredible, sending what felt like bolts of lightning through each their bodies. And electricity it may indeed have been, as it shocked them both into stopping, for one second, then two, then 20, each woman laying there still, clinging tightly to the other's hair, eyes locked, mouths open, and bodies quivering with excitement. Then, as if given the signal to continue, by some force unseen, they continued with another slam, this one like the last, robbed them of their ability to move, as they processed the incredible feeling. And though the pleasure and pain from each press did not diminish, they began to move faster, and require less time to enjoy and recover.

Hard and rough, each press was, with both women trying to punish the other for daring to challenge them. Their hands and fingers strained to pull themselves closer to their rival, but before long, they could get no closer, for the full length of their bodies pressed into one another. Breasts smashed together. Stomachs flattened in parallel. Legs intertwined and straining. But that reality did little to quell their need for more, and so they began to wrestle for position, looking for angles from which they could push harder, and test even more of their muscles against those of their enemy. Soon, their wrestling became so fierce and passionate that they rolled, one over the other, placing Jennifer now next to Austin, and Amber next to Bennett.

It took only a second for them to realize what had happened, and even less time for them to begin scrambling desperately to undue what had been done. Not because they found the thought of being next to the man they wanted repugnant, but instead because they found the thought of letting their rival have theirs to be much, much worse. Despite the speed at which they moved to retake their rightful place, they each found themselves caught, around the waist, by the flailing arm of the other's lover, woken if only in the slightest by all the movement taking place. They tried to pull away, and even to reach for the other for aid, but found themselves no match for the strength of their employers, who each took the other's into a warm and intimate embrace. From such a grasp they looked to each other, their eyes sending a stream of warnings and threats, each of which succeeded in letting them know exactly how to torture their rival. Such punishment in mind, they each turned into the body to which they were held. And though they both fumed at what the other was doing, each felt that their only defense was offense, and could only punish, and not stop.

Having chosen their course, destructive and hurtful as it was, the brunettes went to work. Each, with the softest of motions, undid the belt of the brother in their clutches, and slowly slid their hand into his boxers. There, they began to slowly stroke, and gently massage, until soft became hard. Upon the accomplishment, both rivals looked back to one another, shooting each other an expression twisted by anger and sadness, one telling of both confidence and heartbreak. And yet, that dichotomy did nothing to dissuade, in fact instead it hardened, the confidence enraging them, and the heartbreak speaking to the success of their own actions.

Actions which were only a taste of what was to come, as after each woman shot the other a final, threatening glare, they reached in, and took out the cock of the other's boyfriend. The two women lingered above the erect member of the other's man, just long enough to hear the other gasp in outrage. Like a gun fired to start a race, that breathless annunciation of frustration set both women to lower their lips around the dick before them, intent on not just tasting the meat which they had worked so hard to, and then failed to obtain, but also to prove that they could please better than she who had caught them. Their tongues swirled and licked, and their teeth bit ever so gently on the tip of the flexing penises within their maw. It was as if they had trained at the same school -- the same academy of oral pleasure, as in unison they moved from lick to stroke -- nibble to suck, with the most simultaneous of timing. The Bowman brothers, though still lost in their drunken state, began to buck and squirm unconsciously, each moaning together, with no difference in volume or verve. The apparent lack of disparity between the pleasure felt by the two being pleased, and consequently, the possible approach of another maddening draw, set the women into a fury. The very threat of it pushing both women to rise up, and turn their bodies, so that each faced horizontal across the bed on all fours. They were lost in their own blinding focus, pouring every ounce of attention to forcing their rival's lover to cum, before the opposite could happen to theirs. Their intensity and distraction, hid from the girls the fact that their new position placed had placed them rear to rear. Each having their thong-"covered" asses, and pussies, not but centimeters from the other's. That unknowing ended, however, on their first passionate motion of sucking, which brought their bodies back, and their asses together -- not in a glancing way, or at a soft angle, but fully -- completely, so that cheek flattened against cheek, and pussy lips kissed deeply through only the barest threads of fabric.

On contact their closed eyes shot open, and all breath left their bodies, their mouths opening in a deep, guttural moan around the cock of their rival's boyfriend. The feeling, not unlike when their breasts first touched, sent a glorious quake through their bodies, again like nothing they had ever felt, the effect of it nearly making both women cum right then and there. Despite the shock of it, and how incredible it felt, they pulled apart, and tried to regroup, after a moment continuing to use their tongues and mouths to please the brother before them. But now, knowing what they could have with little to no effort, the rivals added to each sucking rise, a rock back, which brought their womanhoods and asses together again. In that way, they began to trib fuck each other, while draining the sweet juices from the other's lover. And so they built, not just the busty brunettes, but the Bowmans as well, the collective of the four filling the room with not only the smell of sex, but also a symphony of their lust-amplified moans. Both Jennifer and Amber tried to resist the wave that began to take them, but in a last second decision, decided to let go of that resistance, so that they could focus on making the brother beneath them cum. Such a decision was made not seconds before each and all of them came, all buckling and breaking together, in a perfectly-timed four way orgasm.

The release wrecked the two assistants, who without a moment passing, fell back to the center of the bed together. In the speed at which they collapsed, they had not even the time to swallow the cum shot into their mouths by the other's brother. That was reality was noticed by both, as their dreary eyes caught sight of the other. Exhaustion and fatigue had already set in, and yet, they both, with one last ounce of strength, pulled the other close, and used their tongue to try and clean as much of their boyfriend's cum from their rival's mouth as they could. To anyone watching, it would have looked like kissing, but it was anything but, being more akin to a man driven crazy, collecting the remnants of his burned house. The insanity that drove them to so lick and remove, had been forged by the fact that both girls had not only come to not one, but two simultaneous draws. Scores of equality which came, as they did, each allowing their enemy to push them into the most incredible orgasm they had ever felt.

Despite the fury that drove their attempts to clean the other's face and mouth of cum they felt belonged to them, they succumbed to exhaustion nonetheless, falling asleep while not only in each other's arms, but with their tongues still wrestling.

----------------------

Chapter 6:

Something. Something was wrong. Thoughts of as much flew through Amber's mind, as she felt Austin begin to stir behind her on the bed. She tried to derive what it could be, by just thinking. What had happened last night? Where was she? Who was she kissi... Her eyes shot open, and to her horror, she found that she and Jennifer were still wrapped around one another, their unmoving tongues left dangling in the other's still-open mouth. As fast as she could, she pulled back, waking Jennifer in the process -- the retraction having been made just in time to avoid the brothers, well-rested, and only a little hungover, from catching them. The brunettes, embarrassed, and overwhelmed by what happened the night before, pretended to be fast asleep, hoping to earn a moment to think, before having to answer any questions, or confirm any suspicions the Bowmans might have. Their chance came, as Austin suggested in whisper to his brother, that the two slip out for a game of golf, without waking the girls. Assent was given in a nod, and after the two dressed, they left.

Despite efforts having been made to soften it, the sound of the door closing was loud, unmistakable, and all that was needed for Amber to pounce. A move Jennifer was ready for, as she reached out, and in unison, the women wrapped their fingers in their enemy's hair once again. The tugs and yanks they each inflicted hurt, but more than pain, both women felt excitement -- near uncontrollable excitement. The moment had finally come! They were alone, and would be for hours. Nothing could stop them. No interruptions. No circumstances to pull them apart. They could each finally prove their dominance over the other.

It was those thoughts that drove them, each pushing and pulling wildly, rolling this way and that, until finally, locked in their rival's embrace, they fell off the bed, and onto the plush carpeted floor. As they struggled to get back to their feet, still clinging to one another, they could smell it. The scent of their boyfriend's cum on the other. It enraged them both to the point of disgust, a feeling that could only be lessened by washing it off. That goal in mind, the two, nearly nude brunettes, slowly drug each other to the master bathroom's walk-in, marble shower. Once there, they each released a single hand from the other's hair, and ripped off the other's panties, before turning on the water, full tilt, to one side.

Scalding! The water was. Hot to a degree well beyond comfort -- a benefit, they both thought, as they released the other's hair, and grabbed for their body, trying to wrangle the other into the destructive stream. All those nights at the gym, all those days spent jogging, and yet, here now, when they needed to overpower, they couldn't. Instead finding that they could only hold sway, and not escape from or even weaken their enemy's grasp. And so they bent themselves against the stalemate, trying desperately to overcome it, until finally they both collapsed to the shower floor, crashing down with equal parts of the painful stream raining down on them. Too pained to think of offense, they each tried to pull themselves away, but found the other's grasp unrelenting, and too well-matched. Minutes passed as they battled without benefit, their skin turning bright red, and their eyes flooding with tears. So much anger -- so much hate they had for their rival, and yet as the scalding water continued to fall, they each together gave in, collapsing into each other's arms, as they finally, mercifully fell out of the stream's path together.

There they laid, sobbing as a connected pair, just as they did on the first day they met, in the bathroom (of all places) of the 85th floor. They were as broken there in Bowman Industries, as they were there lying together in the brother's shower. This time however, they had been broken not by some external decision, or by disappointment they could not control, but instead by each other. Minutes passed, before one of them released the other, and rose to their knees. It was Jennifer, who, still crying, reached out, and without any warning, flipped Amber onto her back, and inserted two fingers into her pussy, and a thumb on her clit. The infiltrated brunette did not struggle or resist, she still lost in her tears, instead only mustered a heaving gulp, with each of Jennifer's strokes and rotations. Jennifer was not harsh or violent, but instead slow and merciful, still trying to force her enemy to cum, but fully aware that it could have easily been she stuck lying shattered on the shower floor. It did not take long, to overcome the sadness clouding Amber's mind, for with every thrust of finger, she began to buck her hips, wanting more. Needing more. Not caring who was doing it, or why. And so Jennifer gave it to her: deeper, harder, three fingers, then four. Until finally, Austin's assistant came, her body quaking as she gushed her sweet juices onto her rival's probing fingers.

The release came with a self-satisfied sigh, as she who pleased fell backwards, coming to a rest on her back, lying in the stream of water which had now cooled to a steady warmth. It was a victory, of a sort, Jennifer thought to herself, as the last of her tears left her eyes. She had made her enemy cum, without cuming herself. That thought, and the smile it put upon her face, were interrupted however, as the basking brunette found herself suddenly entered by the fingers of her rival. She bucked her hips, and tried to pull herself away, but Amber had recovered, and was holding firm. In and out. In and out. As was done to her, but unwilling to simply follow the lead, the now-risen assistant lowered herself, and whilst holding onto her enemy, set tongue to clit, and set herself to lashing it back and forth. The attack worked in seconds, sending Jennifer into a full blown orgasm, as Amber sucked every ounce of juice she could from her opponent's convulsing pussy.

Once satisfied that her rival was dry, Amber pulled back, and watched as Jennifer crawled away to the far corner of the shower, the newly victorious taking the opportunity to do the same to the opposite end.

In their states of sexual satisfaction, and momentarily ebbed anger, they each sat, with heavy breath, staring at the other with emotion-filled eyes. They were not glaring. Nor sharing sneers, like every moment before. No, they were too spent for that -- too drained by the other. As seconds turned to minutes, each opened their mouths to speak, only to close them a moment later in silence. And though they did not speak, they each knew. That despite their state of exhaustion, their battle was not over. Not yet. A knowing shown, as each of them opened their legs, and gestured with a come hither finger. And hither they came, both scooting forward, until they met in the center of the shower, the warm water streaming down between them, hitting the top of each of their clits as they sealed together in a far too long denied scissor.

The moment was electric, the thick mist of steam and sex intoxicating, and the feeling of clit finally resting fully upon clit was glorious. And so it remained as they began to thrust into one another, their breasts bouncing with each come, and every go. Both wanted desperately to reach out and grab the other's beautiful tits, each time their womanhoods came together, but found themselves unable to spare even a single limb, without collapsing from fatigue.

Their moans began to bounce and echo, filling the stall, and the entirety of the luxury apartment with the sounds of their epic confrontation. Slowly they thrust, and then quickly, hard they ground against each other, and then softly, each allowing the other to rest for brief moments, so they could continue, neither wanting the moment, or their feud to end. But finally, as each approached the coming of their own moment of release, the fire came back to them, and their will to conquer the other returned, driving them. Pushing them. Faster. Harder. Longer. Deeper. Until, finally, when they could give no more, and go no longer, they came -- together -- again. Thereafter, each collapsed forward into an exhausted embrace, in which they remained until they heard the door to the floor open once again, and the sounds of their boyfriend's voices calling their names.

----------------------

Chapter 7:

Technically true or not, Amber and Jennifer both believed that they had never spoken -- at least not aloud. They had, admittedly, sent office chat messages to one another, which made text messages a barrier through which they had already broken. And especially after the cataclysmic events of the previous day, they could not resist. Each needing to make several things clear to the other.

[ Text Messages ]

[ Jennifer: "OMG. Yesterday..."

Amber: "I know".

Jennifer: "That was incredible."

Amber: "Yeah, I literally can't even".

Jennifer: "You know we're not done though, bitch"

Amber: "Never. Not ever, cunt."

Jennifer: "Don't think that you're safe at the office either."

Amber: "You're the one who needs to be worried."

Jennifer: "Please..."

Finally establishing a free line of communication to the other, whilst still maintaining the security of the self-imposed confines of their hate-based relationship, felt like a thousand weights being lifted off their respective shoulders. For there was nothing they wanted to talk about more than their secret rivalry, and no one they would rather talk to more than the other about it. That need and desire laced every text received with excitement, and bound every message sent with anticipation.

Amber: "I took your panties."

Jennifer: "I took yours too."

Amber: "Seemed only right after you came on mine."

Jennifer: "I figured the same."

Amber: "Do you have mine with you?"

Jennifer: "In my hand right now... You?"

Amber: "Mmm, same." ]

They each giggled, smiled, and scowled at their phone as they checked and then responded, And though their emotions and reactions were mixed, neither could be more excited. Neither could be more ready to be at work, and together again.

Austin: "Girls!" The co-CEO called out, asking for the attention of both assistants, just as they stepped off separate elevators onto the 85th floor. "This is John Hammersfield. He's a contractor. Our contractor. I've asked him to help you two make the workflow of your spaces a little more comfortable and efficient.

Jennifer: "Uh, great."

Amber: "Yeah, I love that idea."

John Hammersfield: "Hi, girls."

Austin: "Now, John, money's no issue. Whatever they want, give it to them. Got it?"

John: "Understood."

Austin: "Great! Now if you'll all excuse me, Yahoo keeps calling with offers to sell, and I have to tell them to Bing the term: 'fuck off'". With that less than subtle comment, Austin took his leave, disappearing back into his office, leaving his own personal builder with his two favorite women.

John: "So, ideas?"

Jennifer: "Yes! Can you redo our desks?"

John: "Uh, sure, how did you want them." His positive response, caused both brunettes to look at each other with a rye smile.