When Life Starts Ch. 03

The two of us kissing hard and hatefully. Fighting each other with our tongues, as our hands moved from Rheena to each other's skirts. Unsnapping and pushing them down, before moving onto each other's bras.

Kiss though it was, we were anything but soft. Anything but loving. Each of us grabbing and tearing at each other cruelly to remove not just the now loosened fabric that held our breasts, but the thin-stringed thongs that hugged our hips. My rival and I eating each other's faces with our lips, and trying to choke each other with our tongues.

I knew what Rheena was thinking when she pushed Nazmin and I together. That if she could just get us to kiss, we would stop hurting each other. And that instead, we would settle our dispute, as I have in every other battle I'd had in my short time in Seattle, by testing each other with our sexual prowess. But when finally our clothes had been removed, and our matching beige flats had been kicked off, we separated - our eyes still locked in a hateful glare.

At that moment, I could feel it, I was snarling - even though I did not do so intentionally. A look Nazmin returned, before spitting at me. The mix of her saliva and mine landing on my chest and dripping from there down. A trickle quickened as I charged at her. Wanting to hurt her. Wanting to beat her and claim our lover as my own, at least for that night.

When my charge brought us together, I tackled the brunette interloper to my couch, causing that piece of furniture to rock precariously as we landed. There, she tried to fight me - to push me off and free herself, but I had her. And as my nude thighs slipped about either side of her bare body, I lifted her by the back of her neck off the couch and then buried her face between my tits. My right hand gripping the sofa's edge, as my left hand shifted up to take a firm grip of the back of Nazmin's head.

I could hear her murmuring, speaking, or maybe even yelling into my tits, but not what she was saying. And at that moment, I really didn't care. Something I told her as my sexy breasts cupped her pretty, red-lipsticked mouth. "I can't hear you, cxnt. But I'll just go ahead and assume you're telling me how excited you are to watch me fuck your "girlfriend" (Yes, those are sneer quotes)."

With every word, I could feel her naked body squirm more and more forcefully beneath me. But finally, when that desperate wriggling began to slow, I could taste it: victory. A quick, soul-crushing victory over the woman that had the nerve to march into my apartment, mid-business meeting, and attack me.

But just as I thought I had Nazmin beat, I felt her nails dig deep into my ass, and drag up my back. Even describing it now, I can feel it. The sting of her sharp nails, pulling up small layers of my skin. Layers which hurt so bad as they peeled. So bad, in fact, that on instinct alone, I released her and raised back up from my heavy forward lean, into a seated position in my rival's lap. And when I did, even as she gasped for air, she reached up and dug those same cruel nails of hers into my tits.

I wish I could tell you I reached back for her breasts and dished out the same punishment she gave to me, but instead, to get away from the pain, I fell back between her spread thighs.

Thighs which clamped down on my abdomen in what seemed like a second, locking at the ankles high above me, as I screamed out in pain. Me laying and facing upward, with she beneath me, aimed the same way. Our heads on opposite sides of the couch. Her legs tightly locked around my ribs, and mine spread out. With my left foot braced on the back of my couch, and my right dangling just across her left shoulder.

"Scream for me, bitch." Nazmin taunted as her legs gave a powerful pulse that made me scream once again. And just as I was dealing with that pain - one so bad it made me nauseous, I suddenly felt her claws dig into my bare sex. Her claws moving in and clamping down between my foolishly parted thighs.

"Shit!! OOwwweeee" FUCK! I cursed, both in pain and because of how completely screwed I was. She had me trapped, Nazmin did, between her powerful thighs. All as her long nails dug deep into my sex. And all I could do, at least at that moment, was moan out in pain, as I slammed my thighs shut.

Closed tight though my legs then were, Nazmin's fingers were already in place, and so the closing only drove her nails deeper. Making me whimper, as her thighs squeezed me once again. Harder. Tighter. To be real, I was in hell, and could barely deal with the pain, let alone think of a way out. In that hopelessness, the pain continued, and for the first time, giving in entered my mind. Conceding to the bitch who ravaged me.

A third consecutive loss. DAMNIT! I thought to myself, as I writhed in pain between my rival's thighs. Feeling her still-dry sex press against my lower back, as she pinched at my folds. Trying to ruin me. Destroy me. At least until I told her she had won. And as I suffered there - dwelled there, on the verge of another consecutive defeat, I heard her say it.

"Just give up, Brooke." It was a whisper. A mutter, made under Rheena's breath, as she sat across the room in a zebra print chair watching us, but still, I heard it.

Rather than do as she asked, however, I began to throw what we in the fight business call a wild hissyfit. One that took hold as I began to kick my legs and swing my arms angrily - desperately, unable to endure the pain or come up with a way out.

At least that's what I thought before I felt the heel of my right foot come down hard on something soft. An accidental strike on my rival's lips, I could only guess, that caused Nazmin to end the squeezing of her legs and the clawing of my labia.

Through my mind ran scenarios of sitting up, and trying to turn my brown-haired rival's release into some kind of offense, but ... I just ... couldn't. I was still in too much pain from those attacks she had made, even with them released. And I, despite knowing the pressure had been relieved, really didn't know what state Nazmin was in. So, instead of keeping she and I glued together, I just rolled off of her and my couch, onto the floor between it and my heavy wood coffee table.

As I laid there, I could hear Nazmin groaning, her hands clearly pressed to her mouth, based on the amount of mumble in the sound. And though she sounded wounded, I knew I couldn't just rest. I had to get up, even as my ribs ached and sex stung. So I pressed my palms down to the floor and began to raise up.

As I did though, moving backward and up into a stand, I found Nazmin sitting up. Her bell rung, and hands still pressed to her lips - she not seeming to care where I was or what I was doing.

It's in moments like that, in a catfight, where you have so many different options running through your mind. Options which each could take the battle in one direction or another. And though there were many to choose from, I settled on one.

One that led me to drop my ass down on the couch behind Rheena's other booty-call, and wrap my right arm not only under her chin but around her throat. Then, before she could react, I cinched up - locking her deep in a sleeperhold, just like the ones I had seen in the WWF. One that would make Roddy Piper and Brutus "The Barber" Beefcake proud.

As that hold pulled tight, I felt Nazmin's hands move to my forearm to pull, just as my left palm pressed to her forehead to keep her from leaning her upper body forward and away from me. That's when I heard her say it. Curse, knowing how bad I had her. How deep my forearm was sunk under her chin, and how little mercy either of us had shown each other. A mercy that one has to be given to survive a chokehold like the one I had on her.

Given that impossible dream of me doing anything less than destroying her, after all that had happened, Nazmin could have gone one of two ways. She could have softened. Taking a chance at changing the tone of our battle to something other than complete bitch-fest of violence and pain, as it had been, to something more sexual. Something more akin my usual battles. Or, in a panicked state, flail. Striking in every way she could. With every limb and at any target, just as I had done in my luck-led escape of her leg scissors.

It might not surprise you, but Nazmin took the latter approach, firing out her arms, at first with fists closed and then with fists open. She trying to hit me and force me to loosen my choke. Her lungs sealed off from the air she desperately needed by my cruelly tight and squeezing arm.

But as she spent her energy trying to hit me, I just leaned back into my seat on the couch. Pulling her nude body back into mine, as I whispered in her ear. "I'm going to use my favorite pink dildo to fuck her on top of you, Nazmin."

It was mean to say that. As I write this, I feel bad about it ... at least a little. I say a little, because she started it! I was just minding my own business, or really Rheena's business (as I work for her), when the crazy that Middle-Eastern harpy stormed into my apartment and grabbed my hair. So, no, I wasn't really in the mood to go soft on her or let her forget what was at stake. Still though: mean - I know.

But as mean as I was - as angry as I was, it felt good - so good. Like, really, really good. Holding her against me. My naked body and breasts pressing against her back. Feeling her squirm and struggle to get away from me, as her sexy white-chocolate ass cheeks squeezed and pressed, again and again, against my exposed kitty.

A series of sensations that made me moan, just a little into her ear. She, in response giving me these cute little squeaks - cute, even though they were the sounds of her suffocating. Ha ha, I'm such a bitch.

But just as all of that drove me wild, I felt her take it from me. Not by escaping my choke, but by sliding her ass off the couch, and planting her feet on the ground. A planting she used to then step her legs alone forward, even as I clung to her. That cling making her do a deeper than deep limbo, as her lower-half moved forward and away from the couch. All as her upper-body remained with me, and fully under my control. A truly untenable situation for her, that quickly turned into an untenable situation for me.

For Nazmin, that clever little bitch, suddenly leaped back as she reached the absolute limit of her ability to walk her lower-body away from the couch. The weight of her rapidly returning legs and ass, causing her to smash into me. An impact which caused my pretty, but not overly sturdy couch to tip and then fall back. Sending both my rival and I to crash down to the floor.

Well, her to the floor. Since, technically, I remained on my back on the couch. My sleeperhold releasing somewhere in the madness. My eyes closing on instinct, as my head smashed into the hard concrete floor of my apartment in a loud thud. Despite the pain that collision caused, one I felt in the back of my skull, after only a few seconds, I opened my eyes. Knowing I had to find Nazmin, to figure out where was she, and what was she planning to do to me.

But even with my eyelids open, suddenly everything went dark, as I found my rival's breasts lower down over my face. My mocha-skinned rival having landed on her stomach, her head just behind and to the side of mine on the floor.

Even through Nazmin's perfect breasts, though, I could hear her hacking. Coughing. She still suffering from the effects of my tight, asphyxiating chokehold. Effects she spoke through to taunt me. "I'll be ... * HACK * ... the one... * COUGH * ... to use that precious little dildo, bitch..."

Through her struggles for air, and taunts, I could tell where her face was, even as I felt sweat from her tits drip into my open and gasping mouth. She, with her arms wrapped around the back of my head, was laying on top of me. Her chest, over my face, and her face just between my breasts.

Breasts that engulfed her, as I wrapped my own arms around the back of her head and squeezed. A squeeze that locked that sexy little she-devil and I in a mutual titsmother. Neither of us able to breathe. Neither of us free to do anything other than suffer and suck at sweat-scented air that did not come. Not fast enough at least, as we each had each other.

Not in some hold meant to hurt - one we could endure if only we hated each other enough. But one that had but one of two conclusions: escape or unconsciousness. Neither scenario being more or less likely by who had the top position. A fact that Nazmin must have known, as she quickly rolled, maybe hoping I would let her go when it was I atop her.

But I just held on, and so did she. For one moment and then two. For two and then four. Neither us able to breathe or willing to relent - each of us knowing we had the other, and if we could just hang on, the fight would be over. Yes, maybe in a tie. But both of us were making a different bet, at least at that moment.

A bet that we could outlast the other.

A bet that when sweaty tits were peeled back from salt-covered lips, that it would be us who would still be conscious and free to claim Rheena.

But that wager did little to keep our lungs from burning, as the oxygen left in our lungs from our last real breath began to run out.

She had to release, right...? I told myself, as a statement of fact, that curled into a question. A question that took all the fun out of being so close to a set of breasts as glorious as Nazmin's.

Even without that fun, we rolled once more to the right together. A roll, that after a moment or two more spent asphyxiating between each other's chest-bound assets, we repeated. The two of us then beginning to squeeze the other with our arms, in tight little bursts of strength, hoping those tightenings might be some form of communication.

A fighty Morse code, if you will (read that in the voice of Dusty Rhodes, baby), that might convince the other to realize the mutual destruction and unconsciousness we sprinted towards. Messages we seemingly each ignored, as we just continued to roll, this time to the left, neither of us allowing the other buried between our perfectly shaped breasts.

Harder and harder though it became for us to focus - to think, we together continued to move up and then over one another, as we traveled left. Until, after one or twenty of such rolls, we moved up the curved arm of the overturned, and back-laid couch. An angle that then quickly sent us careening back in a roll to the right - the opposite direction. My tanned, but technically Caucasian body still atop the couch's back and Nazmin's on the floor as we spun in our body-stacked torpedo of suffocation.

In that roll, one which did not stop and then reverse, but instead continued, the two of us picking up speed as we tumbled together. My vision and hers spotting in black as we moved more and more quickly. Our consciousnesses fading as we crashed into the opposite arm of the couch, only then finding ourselves freed from each other's perspiration-lined breasts.

A freedom in which we wheezed and hacked, each of us choking on rushing breaths only feet apart from each other. Neither of us able to stand or even speak. My fire and hers, fires which once raged, extinguished by each other's long, desperate smother. A smother Rheena watched in horror, she only then, with Nazmin and I separated, finally speaking.

"You two HAVE to fucking STOP this!" My exasperated boss began, speaking not in request, but in demand. And though she spoke in words I should have been able to understand, I couldn't. For at that moment, I felt like I was dying. Passing from this world to the next. Not from pain, but an exhaustion like I had never felt before. The sum total of our battle, short as it may have been, either because of the passion of it. The intensity of it. Or that long, draining smother. Having taken my everything. Every ounce of energy. Every spark I had ever had.

In fact, at that moment, as I laid there on the floor of my apartment next to Nazmin, I could not even picture standing again, let alone fighting again. But as one moment after another came and went, and my rival and I just laid there, Rheena moved between us and knelt. She placing a soft hand on both of our bodies, to check on us and make sure we were still alive.

I don't know how long she allowed us to rest, but before I felt even close to ready, our mutual lover reached out to our hands. Then, when she had them, she pulled us both back up to our knees, and after a pause, to our feet.

A miracle though it was, that we had made it back to our feet, Nazmin and I were only capable of a lean. Both of us needing Rheena's still clothed body pressed against ours as a brace. One to keep us from collapsing back to the floor. Neither of us able to do anything other than just suck at the air, with our eyes closed and bodies quivering from exhaustion.

We must have looked like the hottest messes in the entire world to Rheena. Our hair disheveled by what seemed like an eternity of hairpulling. Our makeup smeared by each others breasts and intermittent tears. And our wobbling stances looking anything other than fierce. Sights which led Rheena to wrap an arm around each of us.

"You both win, ok? You both get me tonight. Just, for the love of god, stop fighting..." Rheena offered softly, her nipples still hard as adamantium. She finding herself turned on by our struggle, regardless of her disagreement with the brutality with which Nazmin and I fought.

It made all the sense in the world. We could just stop fighting. Stop killing ourselves and each other, and just fuck her. Fuck each other - healing the wounds we had inflicted. And yet still, at the very moment Rheena attempted to name our competition a draw, Nazmin and I reached for each other.

Not quickly, but weakly. Not with force and fire, but exhausted and spent. Our hands meeting, and fingers lacing, as we pushed at each other.

"Get u-u-undressed, my ... my love. I'm going to fuuuuuck you, after I beat this bitch..." Nazmin instructed, as she and I pushed together and then apart with what little strength we had left. Our palms pressing, and fingers lazily clasped as we tried to re-engage.

Despite that attempt and the desire behind it, all my rival and I found ourselves able to do was move away from Rheena, and then together to stumble over to the wall next to my bed.

There, after a series of unintentional spins, and trip-bought pushes, we landed hard against the brick of the wall. Nazmin against it, and me pressing into her. Our fatigue-riddled and sweat-covered bodies pressed together, as we leaned into each other, and against the wall to avoid succumbing to the overwhelming pull gravity had on us.

"Rheena, strip! I'm - gonna f-fuck you ... like you've never been fucked by this - this - cxnt..." Despite the words and the confidence in them, my head rested on Nazmin's shoulder. Just as hers rested on mine. Our laced fingers coming undone, freeing us to slap at each other. Our hands splashing down on thick, wet flesh. On hips and sides — thighs and arms.

Not a single one of those attacks wounded or even hurt. My rival and I being too exhausted to summon any real force with which to hurt each other, even though we continued to try. Delivering the most ridiculous of slaps as we pressed body-to-body. Our mirrored breasts pressed together, and rubbing. So much so that our nipples began to harden and stab into each other.

Stabbings of pink and brown centers that drove us each to whimper and moan, and then in turn, as those sounds aroused us, our weak, stumbling legs to part and then advance. Our legs extending between each other's thighs and then raising and pressing into each other's bared sexs.

"I CAN'T EVEN WITH YOU TWO! STOP!" Rheena screamed, she not yet realizing that what she wanted was already happening. The transition from hate to lust - from jealousy to desire. And yet still, even as our mutual lover moved herself to a place just to the right of our leaning bodies, our war of words did not stop.