A Bar-Room Bust Up. By Piers Knight

[PiersKnight]

November 2002.
Frances: 5’ 7” 175lb - 48H – 30 – 36
Barbara: 5’ 9” 182lb - 48J - 32 - 36

Now, I know that some people don't like the sort of big breasted women, with 'attitude' like my fianc?, Frances, with breasts big enough to lift on their hands and still have several inches hanging over them, but I can't help the way she is built, besides, I am attracted to women with big firm **** like that. She's also tough, feisty and always on the lookout for an excuse for a fight. Again, that was one of the qualities which attracted me when I met her as a busty 'biker chick' at a motorbike rally in 1990 when I could not help but notice, sitting astride her black and red Suzuki 800, the tight-bubble-curled brunette clad in a black leather jacket unzipped down to the waist leaving her huge white T shirt clothed bust hanging out, calculated to distract all men within eyeshot.

Naturally, she drove their girlfriends wild with outrage and looking 10 years younger than her 36 years age I could quite easily see how she got into fights. I was 'caught on her hook' from that moment on. Luckily, I was the guy who walked away with the girl, leaving the other guys regretting their lack of personal courage. She had a past with numerous fights with other women and girls under her belt and which she had indulged since her teenage years. And, as she got older, rather than finding fewer opponents she discovered more. Always having had big breasts, since the age of ten in fact, they tended to feature quite a lot in her fights and came in for a bit of abuse. So using them aggressively was not strange to her. I took Fran away from that lifestyle, but it made no difference to her!

Move forwards about twelve years since that date:

I took Frances to one of my favourite pubs, the Victorian fronted "Three Cups" one evening in late November. I was tired after a particularly tough day at work and a relaxing drink was just what I needed. The weather was cold and foggy and the day grew dark early before 5 pm. The pub was not busy when we went in, but gradually filled with customers while we were there. We passed through the front room, past the long bar on our left and up the step into the smaller room at the back of the building. The room was small with black painted wooden beams on the ceiling and thinner ones about 2 feet apart going down the walls to meet the lower 4 feet of dark wood panelling.

There were framed watercolours hung between the vertical beams. There was a bar, about 44 inches high, at the far end - a continuation of the bar in the front room -, which curved away from the room to give more space. A big clock on the wall among the brightly lit optics and bottles ticked hypnotically. On the whole, the room (excluding the narrow bar area) was about the size of a single car garage. The roaring fire made the room very warm and as I ordered some drinks from the pretty barmaid behind the copper topped counter, Fran sat down on the edge of the old wooden, high backed church pew/bench facing the fire across the other side of the room about 8 - 10 feet away (the bar being about three feet to the left of the bench) and unwrapped her long black scarf, revealing her bare neck, upper chest and eye-boggling cleavage and began taking her black jacket off, apparently unaware of the men at the bar turning to look at her (but she is an incorrigible flirt and I think she was taunting them). I began to feel a little rattled as they stared at her puffing her sizable chest out, but I couldn't blame them!

Frances was wearing a very short black skirt slit up the sides, black woollen tights and her black high heel ankle length boots, with her left leg crossed over the other at the knee, revealing her entire thigh, all showing off her muscular but shapely legs to best advantage As she placed her discarded jacket on the seat beside her. The baggy white blouse with the plunging neckline was fully revealed and showed her impressive 38H (48" -50") bust and most of her 10-inch cleavage, to best advantage. Her breasts mounded up either side of the deep cleavage like twin mountain ranges, her ******s prominent through not only the lightweight material of the blouse, but also poking through her strong bra. If anyone should ask me which Glamour Model she most closely resembles I'd have to say Milena Velba. I sat down beside her and yawned as I pushed the copper topped table in front of us away a couple of inches.

"You bored?" Fran questioned. "No. Just tired," I said, taking my spectacles off and rubbing my watering eyes. Fran was in critical mood, as obsessed as she is with her own natural breasts, she is confident enough of them for her to feel she can criticise other women who either have a smaller bust, or those who flaunt what little they've got, or those she thinks have had "**** jobs" (breast enlargement), or those whose breasts are just - well - bigger than hers; something she doesn't' tolerate very well. But this is a 'sport' she indulges in rather loudly and garrulously, especially after a drink or two. She had chosen a seat in a position where everyone going to the Ladies bathroom had to walk past us. The route led from the door on my right hand side, (our bench had its back against the wall) and straight on through an archway beside the opposite wall with the fireplace, so we got a view of each person from the left side and back as they walked to the bathroom, and front and right side as they walked back towards the front room of the pub.

Fran loudly pointed out the targets of her dislike in absolutely scathing and ****** terms, while I sat there growing steadily more embarrassed and regretting buying her alcoholic drinks. Other people turned to look at who this 'rude' woman was. Some of the men at the bar were staring anyway as Fran is quite a sight for sore eyes, but the women walking past stared too, with either admiration or hostility. Fran glared back at some of the women as they came past, so almost every woman in the place fell to her vehement criticisms. While most of these women ignored her, a few argued back in passing. In my experience, most women will not take her on as she is powerfully built. One she was particularly critical of looked like her physical equal and she was particularly big breasted; bigger than hers in fact! They were like two large melons pushed inside her sweater.

"They MUST be silicon!" Fran said loudly. I said that - "they look real to me, you can tell by her broad back and rounded shoulders." She thought about this and said, rather more loudly than I found comfortable; "she's got it coming!" "I'll *** fight that big fat-titted cow!" The men at the bar stared for a moment and my adrenaline leapt as I actually found this woman particularly attractive, neither could it be denied that this woman's **** were enormous! The fleeting thought which crossed my mind of these four massive mammaries clashing together was particularly exciting! Though not fat exactly, the woman was substantial, very like Frances in fact. She gave an overall impression of being square shaped, with rounded corners. Some would say her build was 'thick', and her figure, though curvy, was certainly not fat!

Looking at her more carefully I noted that she wore a dark blue baggy sweater (a vain attempt to hide her reasonably attractive body. Her belly had a small bulge, consistent with the sort of mature woman who has had children. Her dark blue skirt ended just above her knees. Her shapely legs, which were pleasingly well muscled, were clad in dark blue nylon tights. On her feet she wore black flat-heeled shoes. I'd say she was about 40 years old or thereabouts. (Fran was 38, but looked like 20.) Her hair was brunette and permed into curls, which tumbled attractively to her surprisingly broad, and obviously well covered shoulders, the kind of shoulders developed after years of carrying the weight of large heavy breasts. Fran's shoulders are similar. Her face was rounded and good-natured. The little extra flesh under her chin betrayed that she was either a little overweight or carried too much body fat of one sort or another. Looking at her womanly attributes (her **** and her substantial ***), I'd say she had a little too much cellulite.

This woman, who I heard someone call Barbara, ignored Fran twice, but on the third time she was getting rattled. She paused on her way back from the bathroom, turned and walked up to our table, placed her hands wide on it and leaning across fixed Fran with a glare and said "Stop going on about my ****. Yours aren't so great either!" I was perfectly happy at this as I got a good view of her large breasts close up. I could see that Fran was annoyed at this comparison. She considered her own *****, though large, to be quite shapely, and as a devoted fan of her ***** I agree with her. Although I did find a certain attractiveness about Barbara's outsized ********, especially when she leant across the table. I got a real eyeful and Barbara seemed to appreciate my 'Gourmand' gaze. Barbara then went past our table to the bar counter to talk to the barmaid. The men leaning on the counter greeted her cheerily enough. "I saw your look!" Fran said pointedly. "Who does monster **** think she is?" Fran grumbled.

To me, each of Barbara's melon-like breasts appeared to be bigger than a man's head. I'd guess they measured up as 38J, about two sizes bigger than Fran's. I whispered to Fran: "I would need to use both hands to hold one of those things!" I got a hard nudge in the ribs for that, which I thought unfair, as I need to use both hands to hold one of Fran's breasts too. Barbara turned and breezed past us on her way back to the front room, followed by Fran's hostile stare. Barbara paused in the doorway, her fantastic figure backlit by the soft light against the cream coloured wall, her huge ***** thrust out in front of her like gravity defying corbels. She looked at Fran as if to say something, but stuck her finger up at Fran instead, then continued into the room laughing.

Fran was furious and took a lot of pacifying, especially as she wanted to jump up and thump her straight away. It wasn't long before she too had to go to the Ladies bathroom, but she wisely chose a moment when no other women were in there, or there could well have been a nasty catfight. She was coming down the passage from the bathroom through the archway as Barbara walked to the bathroom. They both paused and looked each other contemptuously up and down for a moment, their eyes lingering on each other's breasts, appraising them critically. I caught the glint of burning rivalry in their eyes.

Then Barbara continued to walk forwards, deliberately pushing Fran aside with her left shoulder and huge left ****. Barbara's large melon sized left breast and Fran's slightly smaller melon sized left breast compressed for a few seconds as they tested one another's ***** and glared into each other's eyes with animosity, then the two women grunted as they pushed one another aside, their big ***** bouncing alluringly; Fran's left shoulder flipped back as she squeezed past Barbara, which knocked her slightly off balance. I compared the women while they were close together. I noticed that Barbara was actually a couple of inches taller than Fran, but Fran's high-heeled boots brought her up to the same height.

Fran sat down next to me again. "Did you see that?" she asked, adjusting her bra through her blouse. "****ing big fat-boobed *****!" There was a momentary lull in the room as people by the bar (to Fran's left) turned around to listen. I quite liked the idea of a titfight, so I gently encouraged her, but Fran was distracted. She did not like women whose breasts were genuinely bigger than hers. "Of course...” she absent mindedly interrupted me, "She'd have to hold those monsters up with her hands in a titfight," she said. "What?" I said, temporarily thrown by her abstract statement. "How heavy do you think they are?" she asked. "I don't know!" I said in a placatory tone. "Mine are about 7 pounds each aren’t they?" she said. For the benefit of the eavesdroppers I said (with some pride) that "We were never able to weigh them accurately on the kitchen scales, all I know is that they are somewhere between four pounds and eight pounds each. Judging by their weight when I held them, or had my head covered by them in bed, I'd say that they were at the upper end of that weight range." I paused whilst the eavesdroppers recovered.

There are few women with breasts big enough to lift up and hold out in front of them. I think I've known only five women who have such big *****, but Fran is one. I pondered for a moment: "If Fran used her heavy ***** to hit another woman's I pitied the other woman!" Then I thought of Barbara with her bigger breasts. "If Fran's are about seven pounds each, how heavy are Barbara's bigger *****?" My mind boggled for a few seconds before Fran nudged me in the ribs again. "You listening??" she said, annoyed. "What!" I said, shaken out of my cosy reverie. "You weren't' listening. Were you?" she challenged. I was at a loss for words. Then she turned to face the drinkers leaning on the bar, but inclined in our direction. "Whose **** do YOU think are the best. Mine or Barbara's?" she asked them. "Big Babs won't like to hear you asking that!" one of the men said. "No, she's proud of her ****, and they knock yours into the shade!" another man with a weasely face said. Fran peered down into her own huge cleavage. "Never mind the shade!" she said. "Mine would knock hers off her chest!" I nervously picked up my half empty pint glass of beer and pretended I wasn't with her, although I was enjoying the debate.

There was good-humoured uproar amongst the men at the bar. "It's more like - 'HERS' would knock YOUR **** off your chest!" the busty barmaid cheerily joined in. "How about YOU, Joan?" a fat customer lasciviously suggested. "Oooh no!" the barmaid said, "It might hurt too much!" A customer in the other bar (in the front room) banged a glass on the bar for attention. "Refill Fred?" she asked the remote customer and went to serve him. Loud uproar came through from the other room, and the men at the bar began to laugh. "What was all that about?" I asked Joan. "I asked them if they'd like to see a **** Fight!" she laughed. "What did they say?" the Weasel faced man asked. "What do you think???" Joan chuckled. I liked it when Joan laughed, her shapely ***** bounced up and down. "More to the point," the fat man began "What did big Babs say?" Fran stood up, turned and took the single stride to the bar. "Ask her!" she said. "Hey. Babs!!" Joan began. The noise from the room next door drowned her voice out, so she walked through to the other bar. Lusty cheering erupted from the other bar "YEEEAAAYYY!!!" it echoed.

"Anytime you want! - she said!" Joan stated as she came back to our bar. "I daren't say what she called you!" Joan added. Fran walked closer to the bar, plonked her huge ***** on it and leant over it to peer around the corner. I heard a woman's voice indistinctly drift through from the other bar. Fran suddenly snapped as she raised herself on tiptoes to lean further across the bar: "Come here and say that!" she said. Excited ******r came from the other room as the women argued over the two bars. "You're a ****ing big titted ***** too!!" Fran shouted to the disembodied voice. I felt an erection coming up as my heart beat faster. I have seen Fran in two catfights; I wondered what would happen next!

"Uh oh!" the fat man said. "Here she comes." A furious, red-faced Barbara appeared by my table. "So what's your problem *****?" she said loudly to Fran, who had turned around and leant her lower back against the bar, which had the effect of thrusting her **** out still further, her ******s straining the material as they grew fully erect. The men had moved to the far end of the bar to make room for Fran in anticipation of a fight. The retinue of up to a dozen people from the other room followed Babs, clutching their drinks. (Although there were only a dozen of them, the room felt crowded.) "Come on girls. You can't disappoint all your fans!" the fat man said. "Is there going to be a fight?" another voice said.

"I just want to know what this *****'s problem is," Babs said. "You think you're so great with your fat ugly ****," Fran said harshly. "It looks like you've got pillows stuffed up your jumper!" Fran snidely said as she removed her spectacles and placed them on the bar. "And you look like a ****!" Babs spat back. "**** hanging out all over my bar!" she added. "YOUR bar? Hah Fran began to walk slowly and somewhat unsteadily towards Babs. I sat and held my breath for a moment and vainly willed my growing erection to go down as I looked at the two busty women on the opposite side of the table to me. Babs took a step back and pulled her dark blue sweater over her head. Placing it on the table she shook her hair around her shoulders, took a deep breath and thrust her breasts out in their white blouse, which was tucked very alluringly, into the waistband of her dark blue skirt.

The buttons on Barbara's blouse strained as the stitching threatened to pop, her erect ******s strained the material to be free. "So. If it's a contest you want," she said to Fran, "let THEM judge!" nodding at the men. "Mine are firmer than your saggy milk bags!" Fran unkindly said to her, placing her hands on her hips, then inflating her chest. "We can't tell!" the Weasel faced man called out. "You'd have to strip to the waist!" he added hopefully laughing excitedly. Barbara undid two buttons and placed her hands on her hips, puffing out her chest to show how big her ***** were and to deliberately upstage Fran. They seemed to expand sideways and the mountains of flesh bulged over her bra showing a cleavage at least as impressive as Fran's.

Raucous cheering almost deafened me as the crowd shouted their approval. "Get yer baps out Babs!" someone shouted. "Beat those mountains Fran!" someone else shouted. I could see Fran was annoyed as her face reddened. Her top lip curled as she inflated her chest. A second later her left hand flicked one of Barbara's breasts upwards. "Call that a cleavage?" she said contemptuously as the men roared their approval of this escalation, then she pulled her top off over her head revealing her white nursing bra with her **** bulging out of it, her **** wobbling as she shook her hair back into place. Her ******s had grown harder and seemed to be trying to punch a hole in the material.

Now I had a clear view of her from the side and I can honestly say that her breasts stuck out like a thick shelf. "You could shelter from the rain under there!" one diminutive joker said. Annoyed, Babs slowly unbuttoned her blouse the rest of the way and took it off. There was more raucous cheering and someone banging a glass on a table behind Barbara's crowd of followers and awed silence from those of us in front of her and to the side of her. I began to feel sorry for Fran. I was her only real supporter. Barbara's ***** were equally impressive, but most definitely bigger, but appeared softer as the mounds of *** flesh rippled in waves as she moved. Her bra looked very strong and gave her breasts the similar appearance of a shelf. A shelf which stuck out further than Fran's, her ******s, if anything were bigger and her areolas so large and dark, they showed through the material. "Fran should have worn her new bra," I thought; which I bought for her a few days ago. It would have provided more support.

Barbara's upper arms and her biceps were quite thick and muscular showing she had been a hard worker, perhaps a nurse - used to manhandling heavy patients, or done some weight training and joined her very broad, muscular shoulders with her bra straps cutting in deep. I wondered if she was using a bra deliberately a size too small (as Fran used to do until I persuaded her to wear the correct size) to try to reduce how far her breasts stuck out as it was fastened very tight, her flesh bulging out around it. Fran's arms were as equally impressive as Barbara's and, despite her big bust, she is a keen horse rider with a talent for breaking and training them. A lifetime of this, since the age of 10, has made Fran muscular - in a feminine sort of way - and surprisingly strong. Her intense weight training to keep fit honed the muscular definition. But the wide strapped nursing bra she wore ensured that her shoulders were not cut into. I glanced across at Joan who was smiling broadly. I looked at the other women in the room and their faces were contorted with cheering and were shouting more enthusiastically than the men. By comparison, the mild curiosity of the mostly middle aged men was eclipsed by the sheer animal behaviour of their wives and girlfriends. It was an excitement which was infectious and more intoxicating than the beer.

I began to think that if the "Three Cups" Landlord, Harry, came down from the apartment above he'd probably throw us all out. He liked to keep an orderly pub. "What do you think?" Babs said to me. I didn't' hear her for the noise, but I could see her mouth the words. I smiled and held my thumb up. Fran glared daggers at me. "Are they bigger?" I just heard Babs shout. I made it plain that I was comparing, so I looked at Fran, then I looked back at Barbara's *****. I just shrugged in what I hoped was a non-committal way. I heard Fran's voice clearly enough as she literally piped above the noise: "I don't mean comparing you cow!"

The noise abated a little as the crowd sensed something unusual was afoot. "She means a **** Fight Babs!" came Joan's clear, clarion voice from the bar as the noise died down. "Well why didn't you say so?" Babs said. Hands on hips the women half circled each other appraising one another's assets. "Well? C'mon gobby cow!" Babs said. "If you want me to bust your **** I'm happy to oblige!" she continued. "You'll regret you said that," Fran began; "You'll need surgery when I've finished with you!!!" she finished. The two women paused an unbearable amount of time as each weighed up the most advantageous way to begin the fight.

Fran moved first; she took a bold step forwards then twisting her left shoulder back thrust her substantial right breast forward to nudge Barbara's huge left breast. Babs took a forced step backwards as a result of the blow, it was like two firm basket balls colliding, with the same effect, <<THUD>> <<SMACK!>> then suddenly she took a long stride forwards throwing her head back to avoid a clash of faces and crashed her entire chest into Fran's. There was a "THUD!" as they clashed and Fran staggered involuntarily backwards a step. The women’s generous breasts rippled in waves and bounced. It was as though a whole rack of basketballs just collided with another!

A look of surprise and anger on her face, Fran angrily swung her right shoulder at Babs so that her right breast rammed the side of Bab's left breast and tore across both of them. Bab's **** swung hard and I noticed how much more prominently their ******s stood out after their short confrontation. Barbara gasped with surprise, then swung her massive rack at Fran's. Fran returned the blow, <<THUD-THUD>> as the double blows struck home, but Barbara continued to reply blow for blow in kind. Audible smack after smack after thud after thud ensued with each heavy breast taking a heavy pounding from its counterpart. Within a few minutes their areolas had swollen up because of the stimulation making their **** look a lot bigger, their ******s were more erect than I have ever seen! Their breasts were hot from the excitement and from the pounding they were receiving and the women loved it.

This toe-to-toe *** boxing did not seem to be achieving anything with their breasts well supported in their bras. I tried to indicate to Fran that they should remove them, but she couldn't really see me without her specs. Fran realized she was gaining nothing so initiated chest slamming by shoving Barbara backwards with a double barrelled assault of both breasts with the full weight of her chest and torso behind it. Babs did NOT like this at all and swiftly reciprocated. A few hard pushes and slams more and the thudding of their chests meeting became audible even above the noise of the crowd. "Ouch! That's GOT to hurt!" Joan intoned for the benefit of her customers nearest to the bar as the women’s breasts collided and attempted to concertina each other. I picked up Fran's specs and put them in my jacket pocket for safety. The sound of their sweating breasts colliding was now loud because they were wet and slick with sweat, breast grease from their areolas and milk, stimulated from their ******s constantly colliding. Their milk glands were now completely swollen and easily stimulated, I knew without having to see it that Fran was dripping and possibly even spraying milk in her bra because I had spend months stimulating them.

The women stepped backwards no more than a step after each slam, but the slamming became harder and with every slam the women's breath was knocked out with a loud "UGGNN!!!" and their breathing became harsher between slams. As this slamming became fiercer they stood more stolidly toe to toe and both now had put their hands behind their backs, or held them by their sides Their voices juddered as the slamming reached its fiercest and each time they withdrew I could see that their areolas had grown fuller and thicker and much more distended and their ******s had become completely erect, sticking out by more than an inch and their breast flesh had discoloured, reddened and showing signs of bruising.

I knew what Fran weighed - 175 lbs, (with 10-14 lbs of that being her *****!) but Barbara was somewhat bigger all round. I'd guess she weighed between 185 and 190 lbs. I began to think that Fran had bitten off more than she could chew. She might well be very strong and an experienced titfighter, but Barbara was learning fast. Neither women appeared to be gaining the advantage, then, on the final slam, - much heavier than the others, - they seemed to bounce off each other and half walk, half bounce backwards. At this point I noticed that their bras were beginning to discolour, and becoming more translucent as sweat and milk soaked through them and ran down their torsos. The shape and colour of their ******s and areolas could be clearly seen, almost as though they weren't wearing any bras! The women noticed too.

Fran stood rubbing her surprisingly pert ******s. "******* hurt ****?" Barbara spat. "No more than yours!" Fran snapped. "You'll be begging me to stop soon!" Barbara stated. "Why you fat cow. I'm gonna bust your ****!!" Fran vehemently growled at her. "You little COW!!" Barbara snarled at Fran. "My **** are tougher than yours!" she said. "And they can take much more punishment," She added. Fran rubbed the sides of each breast. "Prove it *****!" she shouted as she dropped her hands and prepared to charge at Barbara. "Oh, I intend to!" Barbara said as she clasped her arms behind herself in preparation. "Well c'mon ****! You can kiss goodbye to your ****ing udders!!!" Fran shot back. Renewed cheering erupted from the crowd.

Now some ten feet apart and closing, - both women ran at each other, **** first yelling like angry cats, until their massive busts collided with a resounding "THUMP!" which would have knocked them both flying had they not, this time, flung their arms around each other's backs. Their hands slapped their sweaty skin as their firm **** crushed each other and Barbara's impressive biceps started to swell as she began to squeeze Fran's ribs. Wracking grunts and groans escaped both women as Fran tightened her arms around Barbara. Breast flesh bulged out from their sides and swamped the space between their necks as it squeezed up over the tops of their sweat soaked bras, the stitching on their bras beginning to rip under the unusual pressure. "If their **** bulged upwards any more, they could suffocate each other in their own breast flesh!" I thought as Fran’s breast flesh reached her own nose, but this was the least of the women’s troubles as they began kneeing each other in the groin. Hard smacks to each other’s red hot *****s, swollen with excitement forced grunting and shrieking from them with each knee slam to the groin. I could barely watch.

The little man next to me was beside himself with excitement and stood on the bench as he yelled for them both. He didn't' care who won, he just wanted them to continue to fight. And fight they did! Both women stumbled back and forth all over the room hugging each other as hard as they could stumbling against the heavy wooden tables, kneeing each other in the **** at every opportunity. Then they knocked against my table and I snatched my drink up just in time as the table slid backwards noisily and pinned my legs to the bench I was sitting on. They were so close I could hear their pained grunting and gasped insults, I could smell their ******l fluid as it leaked from their swollen vulvas. Our bar room wrestlers swayed and stumbled, each seeking an advantage - until ...

Using her powerful legs and leaning her big chest into Fran's, Barbara pushed Fran across the carpet towards the bar. Fran was either weakening or was taken by surprise and as she tried to resist, her boots slid on the carpet. She finally managed to halt her backwards progress by pushing the heel of her left foot against the bar and taking a step forwards with her right leg, but this failed as Barbara pushed Fran's back up against the bar, the lip of which bit into her lower ribs. "AAAAGGGGHHH!!" she screamed and placing her hands on Barbara's meaty shoulders, tried to push her away.

Barbara was having none of this; she saw her opportunity to win and grabbed Fran's hands. For a few seconds, their hands fought for dominance, each set raising and lowering as they wrestled then pushed out to the sides, each trying to twist or break her opponent's fingers. Shouts, screams and grunts ensued until eventually their hands locked together and as they wrestled from side to side and leant into one another they dragged their massive busts from side to side, rubbing their hard, erect ******s across each other's breasts. Both moaned long and low with each rub, but neither seemed to be winning. This had a remarkable effect on their ******s, I noticed!

Then the women began to twist their shoulders and torsos, targeting each other's **** individually, ***-punching *** brutally. Judging by the way they both howled this seemed pretty uncomfortable. Sitting as close as I was I could see their ******s and areolas swelling through their bras and this kind of treatment only made them bigger. I could clearly hear the fast and regular "Thump!", "Thump!", "Thump" as breast punched breast and the occasional "SMACK!" as their increasingly bulging flesh met. I thought of the weight as their **** pounded each other: "If Fran's weigh 7 pounds each and Barbara's probably double that there must be over 40 lbs whacking each other!" I thought with amazement. As it turned out Big Barbara’s right breast was bigger at 15 lbs than her left at 12 lbs, but that was a combined weight I reasoned could beat Fran’s **** to pulp. But still they battled.

A teenage girl appeared in the doorway of the stairs behind Joan at the bar. "Ohhh. What's mom up to now?" she wailed in an exasperated tone. I assumed that this was Barbara's daughter who was visiting the Landlord's daughter in his apartment over the pub. It wasn't like Harry to miss something like this, - even if it was just to throw them both out for fighting. I turned to the Jockey-like man next to me who, had sat down again after he was almost knocked over when the women collided with the table, was literally on the edge of his seat watching the fight keenly. "Where IS Harry anyway?" I asked. "It's not like him to miss something like this!"

The man leant towards my ear. "Where have you been?" he said. "Harry retired. He left last month!" I was taken aback. I knew Harry was getting on in years, but he and his young wife (half his age) managed the Three Cups ok. "I haven't been in for a couple of months," I said. "Who's the new Landlord?" I asked. "Land-LADY!" he corrected me. "Big Babs" he said simply, looking at me as if I was a half-wit. "Ah," I said simply as my mouth dropped open. "Why did Fran have to pick a fight with the new Landlady?" I thought. "But your girl's doing well against Big Bab's. You know she's a champion Catfighter, don't you?" I did not, actually, and I wondered how Fran would fare if Barbara really got going!

Both women were shouting unrepeatable insults at each other as their heavy ***** punched one another. They both looked breathless and their hair was sticking to their skin as beads of sweat ran down their faces, over their breasts and down their cleavages. They pulled their interlaced fingers apart and their hands immediately shot to each other's backs and side ribs and, standing toe to toe, they twisted their torso's violently, letting their **** fight it out. Their breast flesh contorted and wrinkled as their ***** were dragged across their chests, the women moaning long and low, the sensation bordering on agony and ecstasy, then squashed inwards as one bra clad breast buried itself in another.

It looked like a battle of attrition to me. It depended upon who had the toughest **** and who could take the most punishment. The intensity of the bear hug increased until all their breasts were pushed upwards and partly out of their cups. Their arm muscles bulged with the effort as distended ******s popped out of the top of the crush. It was plain by now that the two purple-faced women staggering wildly around the room could not breathe. I thought that they would continue this Bear hug until one of them passed out in an effort to finish the fight, but the plainly exhausted women separated and breathlessly regarded each other.

A shoulder strap on Fran's bra was hanging down after the stitching gave up and burst and the front of her nursing bra had come away. Bulging flesh and a ravaged ****** spilled out. Barbara's was in little better shape and both of her bulging breasts were almost over the top of her bra. It would not be very long until at least one entire breast fell out. My guess that Barbara's bra might have been a size too small looked like it could have been correct as I noticed her back band had all the hooks torn off except one, but her back band was still tight. The little man next to me began to chant "Bras off, bras off, bras off, ..." interminably and very soon the whole room was chanting. This fate was obviously predetermined as seconds later Barbara felt her final clasp burst and her bra swing away.

With the last clasp gone Barbara pulled the ravaged garment off completely. Her huge ***** looked even bigger liberated and hung almost to her waist, or would have done had they not been well supported by her well developed Cooper's Ligaments. And well developed pectoral muscles and lats. The big round firm looking fronts resembled melons more than ever with their broad dark areolas, I'd guess as at least 4 inches diameter and the biggest ******s I'd ever seen (and I've seen quite a lot), pointing slightly outwards and downwards, the weight pulling stretch marks in her long *****. Her right breast hung lower than her left as it was clearly bigger, but non much in it with one weighing 15 lbs and the other 12 lbs. Not to be upstaged, Fran made a big play of reaching behind to undo the clasps, sticking her chest out even more as she did so, then dramatically stooping forward as she loosened her breasts from their cups. She swung her big even breasts from side to side, to lots of cheers from the appreciative audience, before standing up straight again and tossing her hair back, showing not only how big they are but how firm shapely and even they were too. I had never seen such massively swollen areolas as they reacted to stimulation and her ******s stuck out like tick thumbs, their visually multi holed ends actually dripping milk. Her ***** bounced and rolled until they settled, rivalling Barbara's melons for roundness, fullness and firmness. "Cow!" Barbara shouted scathingly. "They're better than your fat udders!!" Fran called. I thought so too, they looked firmer to me.

Fran tossed her soaked bra to me and placing her hands on her hips intimated to Babs her intention for bare breast boxing. Barbara happily took up the challenge, but this time, without restraint their huge breasts swung far enough and hard enough to slap their own biceps. But as they did so, they tore across one another's sensitised ******s first. One rack punched into the other with a loud sweaty "SLAP!" twisting them to one side, to be swiftly answered in kind by the other. This toe-to-toe *** swinging battle had their heavy orbs ploughing into the cleavage of women as orb after orb was pounded. The sweat soaked orbs were soon sore and the women backed off of each other to appraise the situation.

Staring fiercely into Barbara's eyes Fran slid her hands under her own sweat-drenched breasts to massage them, lifting them up high 'til they were horizontal. I saw her biceps strain under the weight, then her fingers sank in slightly as she gripped them and the generous flesh oozed between her fingers and around her hands until they were buried under the great fleshy mounds. The flattening out flesh swamped her wrists and part of her forearms until she manipulated her **** so that her freshly pert ******s and pebbly areolas pointed forwards and overhung her hands by a few inches, - enough to jab and punch with. Her areolas swelled up and twisted to peaks, her ******s, now dark red, looked firmer than Barbara's, but Barbara still had the advantage of size. "To the finish. Cow ****!" Fran shouted at Barbara, who had just finished rubbing the sweat off her breasts as best she could. Barbara's enormous ***** swamped her forearms as she lifted them. "C'mon fat udders. If you want me to bust your ****, try it!" she said as she squeezed her ***** together with the crook of each arm, then manipulated her ***** with her hands until her large areolas, now so dark they appeared dark brown, topped with her thick pert ******s thrust frontward (and slightly sideways, which was inevitable).

They approached each other until just two feet apart (and luckily for me, right in front of my table) then touching flesh to flesh, tested the firmness of each other's firmly held breasts. ******s flushed darker as they jabbed several times, then they began swatting at each other’s engorged areolas and ******s, the swiping and swatting getting faster and harder, milk flew from Fran’s *****, to cheers from the appreciative crowd. She was spattered in droplets as was Barbara, me and some of the crowd closest to us. “Ugh!” Barbara spat as she was showered with the stuff and made her more determined than ever to beat the milk cow. Then, aiming their hand-supported ***** at each other's really began aiming full-blooded swipes and punches. "SMACK!" Barbara's left breast slapped heavily across Fran's left and rammed it hard against her other breast. Fran grunted from the blow, then jabbed her right ****** straight into Barbara's right areola. Bab's swung from her left to bury her long left ****** in the side of Fran's right areola. Fran swung her breasts hard to her left but missed, but on the return swing Barbara rammed both of her ******s deep into Fran's areolas. Fran flicked her chest out forcing Barbara backwards a half step, then they both rammed their breasts together. ...

Grunts exploded from both determined women as they 'bounced' them together twice more, the third time, leaning into each other and pushing. I winced for the women as their breast flesh wrapped around their hands which had the effect of pinching and nipping their breast flesh. Each woman yelled out in pain. Holding their breasts up high and horizontal, they continued to fight with them and grimaced into each other's face, their noses mere inches apart as they manipulated their *****. To Barbara’s horror her own ******s were exuding milk too, but as I looked I could see that it was discoloured and probably Lymph fluid from a ruptured gland or two.

Fran took a half step backwards and twisted her ***** to her left, dragging Barbara's breasts right across her chest, then back the other way, pulling them out of her hands. Barbara scooped her breasts up quickly though as Fran lunged at her Barbara lifted then dropped her heavy breasts onto the tops of Fran's. "SPLAT!" resounded between them. "UUGGHH!!!" Fran breathed as her breath was knocked from her lungs. She readjusted her grip as she pulled her trapped hands out from under her *****, then immediately ploughed her right ******, still as hard as rock, into the flesh of Barbara's left breast.

Barbara grunted and pulled her right breast up until it was horizontal, then she shoved it directly into Fran's hard left ******. Their mountainous areolas, more pebbly than ever, stimulated by the fight, oozing grease, lymph and milk clashed and their ******s gouged into one another squashing their areolas out sideways. Barbara's bigger areola soon overwhelmed Fran's 3-inch areola, and they both appeared to 'eat' one another. As they ground together, Fran's ****** squeezed out from the crush and half a second later Barbara's popped out. No sooner had they separated, Fran twisted her whole torso and pushed her thick brown ******s against Barbara's, manipulating her ***** constantly to keep her enemy's ******s under her own. Milk sprayed gently onto Barbara’s ***** while Barbara desperately manipulated her bigger ***** as she felt her ******s dominated and begin to crush backwards into the sensitive milk glands, but much less effectively because of their size. She groaned as the deep stinging began and she gasped as Fran began grinding her ******s around inside Barbara's crushed areolas.

Babs clenched her teeth as the women's big thick ******s fought for dominance. I watched their full, rounded ***** gradually swallow each other, then, as Fran pushed her ****** in deeper, Babs threw her head back and yelled out as her ******s and big milk ducts were pushed backwards into the deep flesh. Fran began twisting her torso making her breasts pull Barbara's all over her chest. Then Barbara began to twist, her breasts gouging Fran's milk sacs until she could feel them 'pop' as they slid and twisted. Fran shrieked at the pain, and fought back just as hard and reciprocated in kind causing the massive volume of flesh between them to ooze and contort like gelatine between them.

They each groaned long and low as they twisted their ***** around in their hands, really working their ******s deep into each other's flesh. Then, staggering apart from this close fighting they finally separated. Each woman began rubbing her own sore ******s. I looked on in amazement as their ***** were surprisingly transformed. Mottled red and blue, their swollen veins showing clearly through the flesh, their proud ******s red raw, atop dark, swollen areolas, their milk glands swollen to large misshapen lumps on their breasts.

Breathing heavily, they closed in on each other again and another forceful ****** to ****** grinding session saw them separate with bulging, almost swollen areolas, their ******s red raw but still firmly erect. They each took the single step forward again to slam their breasts together again. After the initial "SMACK!" and the pain of their own fingers nipping their own breast flesh, they ground, grunted and swore at each other until Fran's harder ******s, gouging deeply into Barbara's, forced her backwards several steps. Barbara found that her breasts were squashed so pancake-like on her chest that, not only could she not breath, but that Fran's ******s stung viciously as they bent her own ******s and forced all the gland tissues back into her breast. She felt that she was losing. "I can't lose to this ***** in front of everyone!" she thought. Both women were gasping as their breasts crushed.

Barbara could take no more and as she stepped backwards she flipped Fran's breasts upwards with her hands. "OWWW" Fran gasped as they suddenly stung underneath, her left hit her in the face and they swung away from her hands. "You ****ing cheat!!!" Fran bellowed at Babs.

In a fury, Fran rushed forwards, firmly gripping her breasts and aimed them at Barbara's ****. All four ***** ground untidily together, their swollen glands crushing each other painfully and then Fran twisted, knocking Barbara's **** flying. Babs scooped them up again and lunged at Fran with her right shoulder and whacking her heavy **** right across the fronts of Fran's. "Eeeoouch!" Fran screeched, then aimed her own ***** at Barbara's. Twice she missed, but connected the third time with a sharp "SLAP!" Undaunted, Barbara closed in on Fran, absolutely confident that when it came to boxing with them, her **** could not only take the punishment, but could dish it out too.

Fran was equally determined. Heavy thumps and slaps ensured that their wildly rippling and wobbling breast flesh *******d one another's **** raw. Their swollen ******s were equally raw as they stabbed and dragged across one other, flicking and bending each one aside. Both women's shoulders and whole torsos now twisted from side to side as their bare breasts *******d each other crimson. I could plainly hear the thuds and whacks as the multiple pounds of heavy breast flesh thudded together with the force of anger. Several more times their breasts were knocked from their hands and swung from side to side over their waists. Time and again they lifted their heavy, swollen and hit with them harder and harder beating each other back and forth.

Neither of the women seemed bothered by the pain anymore. I reasoned that the fight itself was the anaesthetic. Babs had worked herself into a fury and punched Fran's breasts with her own, letting out a scream with each punch and advancing a step with each blow. Fran continued to box back but was obliged to walk backwards as Barbara advanced. The excited spectators parted as Fran was driven to the wall by the passageway near the 'Ladies' bathroom and pinned her there, against the rough adobe style artexed wall, her breasts battering from side to side at Fran's as she twisted her torso a dozen times or more.

Fran had no room to move to mount a counter attack and just as she decided that deliberately dropping her ***** would save her from the beating, she remembered that it would also signal her surrender - and Babs would have won. She didn't get a chance to ponder this a second time as Bab's stopped twisting and leant her weight against Fran's chest, crushing her *****. Fran shouted out in pain as her breasts were squashed around her fingers, her own hands nipping the flesh and digging into her own ribs.

With Fran's back firmly against the wall, Babs just leant into her, her firm ******s stabbing deep into the sensitive areolas. Fran moaned a long, deep moan of ecstatic pain. Babs was winning and encouraged by this, began to 'bounce' her firmly held ***** against Fran's, grunting hard with every push and bounce. Fran felt her **** were being devastated, but with her hands effectively trapped by the engulfing flesh and being nipped viciously by her own fingers there wasn't much she could do. Whether it meant losing the fight or not, Fran struggled to pull her hands out from beneath her sweaty, clinging, breast flesh.

Barbara felt Fran struggling and positioning her **** for maximum effect against Fran's, began to press harder. She then pulled her hands from her ***** and gripped Fran's lower ribs while she worked her ******s in harder. With the hard wall behind her, Fran had nowhere to go. Their left cheeks side by side now, the women murmured curses into each other's ear. Fran finally managed to tear her hands free, but it made little difference. While her own hands and fingers no longer nipped her breast flesh and injured her ribs, her **** were now being crushed as though in a vice between her own rib cage and Barbara's.

Groaning in real pain now and her breath having run out, Fran found to her horror she could not take an in-breath. There was only one thing she could do to prevent herself from passing out; she gripped the bulging sides of Barbara's breasts and began to squeeze. "YEEEOOWWW!!!" Barbara shrieked as Fran’s nails sank in. Barbara was not going to be denied her victory however and slipped her hands around Fran's back and grasped her hair. Fran felt her head being yanked backwards until the top of her head was against the wall. She felt her ribs being crushed and as she was now too close to do any more damage to Babs, she slipped her arms around her and squeezed her in a bear hug while pulling Barbara's head back by her hair. Both groaned as their arms crushed their groaning ribs.

As they fought, their faces inclined towards the ceiling, their big ***** meshed between them, the women stumbled away from the wall and were only three feet from it when two fierce pulls on Barbara's hair broke her hold. But then Barbara's right knee came into play as she let go of her hair and kneed the outside of her left thigh. Fran staggered sideways, gasping for breath, her huge ***** swinging violently, her thigh exploding in pain. Barbara then hurled herself at Fran grabbing her hair with both hands and banging the back of her head against the wall.

After three resounding hard blows Fran's left hand shot out and grasped Barbara's hair. A second later she hooked her right arm around Barbara's neck and stepping past her right hip dragged Babs backwards. A desperate tussle ensued with vicious hair pulling and head locks. They half stumbled, half threw each other into the pressing crowd. Spinning full circle Babs threw Fran at the wall which she hit virtually **** first. Fran gasped in pain as her **** were crushed and lacerated on the adobe style plaster and she placed her hands against it to try to prevent further crushing as she gasped for breath. Her lungs burned as the air went in. "Oooh. I must give up smoking!" she gasped abstractedly. She looked at her enormous bags of bloodied flesh as they swung unattractively around between herself and the wall leaving smears of blood on the wall.

A second later Barbara was on her back slipping her arms under Fran's she pulled them backwards behind her head in a full Nelson. I gasped at the reddened state of Fran's areolas as her ***** thrust out in front of her and swung violently from side to side. Then using her weight, Barbara ran Fran **** first into the wall. The wall seemed to shake as the heavy "THUMP!" vibrated through the building. "Ooohhh nooo!!!" Fran wailed as the pain tore through her. Barely had she stopped moaning when Babs yanked her chest back and slammed her against the wall again.

This time a deep "Uugghh!" escaped her and she lay against the wall, her head turned sideways and leant against it, her features pushed out of shape, her **** squashed out from between her ribs and the wall, blood running freely from her lacerated ****. Babs began to pull her backwards again, leaving sweat patches and blood on the wall, but Fran had a surprise for Babs. She began to deliberately walk backwards pushing Barbara backwards behind her and reaching her hands further back, she grasped her hair, and for several glorious seconds I got an incredible side view of Fran's enormous breasts thrusting outwards further and further………..

Then Fran began pulling Barbara's head from side to side by her hair. Babs dropped her hands down to Fran's proud breasts and clamping her hands over them, began to squeeze. In retaliation Fran quickened her hair pulling, sawing Barbara's head from side to side. Barbara increased her punishment of Fran by digging her short nails into the breast flesh and twisting her ******s viciously. Meanwhile Fran was literally tearing out chunks of Barbara's hair, so Babs pulled Fran's **** out sideways by her abused ******s and areolsa, stretching them as far as they would go as her finger nails dug in causinf blood to well up around her fingers. Fran was yelling obscenities at Bab's while Bab's yelled abuse at Fran then she began slamming Fran's **** together again and again, milk, blood and sweat flying everywhere, grinding her knuckles in before tearing them alternately up and down. Fran couldn't stand this treatment for long and suddenly let out a sharp, furious roar and in the next second, bent suddenly at the waist, arching her back and rolling Babs right over her to land on her back with a loud "THUMP!!!"

Fran had dropped to her knees then onto her hands. She looked astonished for a moment to see Babs lying flat on her back, then with a snarl she slammed her open hands against her chest forcing a pained "UUGGGHHH!!" from her, then grabbing as much of the rolling breast flesh as she could, began to squeeze and maul them sinking her finger nails in deeply. "AAAEEEIIIYYAHH!!!" Babs shrieked as her ***** were pulped. "Two can play at THAT game. *****!!" Fran shouted at her. Instinctively, Barbara's hands shot up and grabbed both of Fran's big ***** swinging above her face. Now both women screamed as they wrenched and shook each other's voluminous orbs around. Barbara squirmed and twisted to try to avoid Fran's grip on her flesh as Fran drew blood with her nails. Barbara eventually twisted onto her right hand side in an effort to avoid more punishment. But with her hands still firmly latched onto Fran's *****, made certain that Fran rolled onto her right side too. They wrenched harder on one another's breasts as their fingers gripped their ******s and tugged hard on them.

Barbara soon reverted to her cat fighting spirit and her right hand was soon under Fran's short skirt mauling her crotch badly. Fran soon reciprocated and within minutes their skirts were being ripped and their tights utterly shredded. Fran tortured Barbara's crotch with ferocious wedgies and twisting. Barbara spotted her opportunity to nip Fran's ******l lips and torture her prominent ********. As blood poured from her crotch Fran was trying the same tactic when Barbara saw her chance and wriggled her legs up to trap Fran's neck between her calves. Fran felt her neck squeezed, her ears begin to ring and her vision went fuzzy.

Like Barbara, Fran had never lost a catfight in her life, and she had had several punishing fights over the years, but someone had to lose this one. But, she was "damned if she was going to let this big titted ***** beat her!" Fran tried the same move, but only succeeded kneeing Barbara's head, but it had the desired effect and made her let go. The fighters broke apart and Barbara lay on her side clutching her head with both hands, her long breasts laid out in front of her, left one on top of the right. "You ****ing *****!!" she shouted in a curiously muffled voice. Fran was quickly up on her hands and knees and ready to hurl herself at Barbara. But Babs was too quick and, rolling onto her front - in one fluid move was soon up on her hands and knees facing Fran, their faces just inches apart. "Come on Babs," some of the men shouted. Others had sided with Fran and urged her on.

The tired women’s' huge reddened, scratched and bruised ***** were hanging down towards the floor like giant udders and swinging gently. Fran winced at the weight of each sore heavy **** pulling on her chest muscles as they swung, I was surprised that despite having been pulled and twisted, their ******s were still fully erect and their areolas mounded up and thick with a pebble-like appearance. "**** sore?" Fran asked cruelly. "Not as sore as yours will be, when I rip them off!" Barbara gasped. A roar of approval went up from the small crowd. "Well come on *****!" Fran said and hurled herself forwards slamming her muscle covered right clavicle hard against Barbara's. Barbara launched herself in the same instant and there was a sickening "WHAP!!" as their meaty shoulders met with considerable force and both women let out ferocious guttural screams.

The room erupted in noise as the audience went wild. With their heads side by side, women screamed into the other's ear. Several times each woman tried to grab her enemy's swinging breasts, resulting only in slaps. First Barbara was pushing hard off her knees and feet as she tried to force Fran backwards. Fran's woollen tights began to graze into holes on the rough carpet as she slid backwards a couple of feet, then resisted hard.

For a few seconds both women almost pushed each other onto their feet, their shoulders crushed painfully together as each came up on the balls of their feet, their **** swinging wildly between them. Then with a desperate gasp Barbara started to slide backwards until her knees hit the floor with a "CRACK!" Both women grunted painfully as their thick shoulder muscles were crushed against their own clavicles. Their hanging ***** swung back and forth and round in circles. Each tried several more times to grab one another's swinging breasts - and loud "SLAP!" after "SLAP!" excited the crowd further.

I was increasingly less sure that these slaps were accidental as they increased in number and ferocity. ***** swinging like pendulums, Fran shifted her weight to her left hand and immediately grabbed for Barbara's loose, swinging, left ****, catching hold of it with another "SLAP!" but this time, held on pulling hard on it and stretching it out to its full length, her finger nails digging in. Barbara began to pull away from Fran, pulling long creases in the breast, but then reciprocated, catching hold of Fran's left breast. Fran gripped Barbara's more tightly and her fingernails tore long scratches in the breast as they slipped towards the mountainous dark areola, pulling it out, stretching it and her thick ****** until her hand slipped from it. She immediately caught hold of it again and began to crush and pull it. Barbara squeezed Fran's breast as hard as she could, then lifted both hands off the floor and grabbed both of Fran's breasts and hung on them with her full weight.

Fran snarled and copied the move and for a few seconds they tried to tug one another to the floor with them, pulping each breast in their strong fingers and grunting with each tug as they tried to stretch them. For all the world it looked like they were trying to milk one another. Barbara could not stand this for long and began to pull backwards pulling Fran's ***** with her. Fran pulled back, and long creases were pulled into their long, reddened breasts. Their fingers palpated, pulled and squeezed; kneading the pliable breast flesh like pasta dough. When their fingers slipped off due to the sweat the women soon got another hold.

Both groaning through gritted teeth as they mauled each other’s *****. The women gradually got their knees under themselves until they came upright. Both lost their grip on the sweaty orbs and sitting back on their heels braced on their toes, glared at each other. "If you want to squeeze ****, come on and we'll REALLY see whose are the toughest!" Fran said. "Now you HAVE done it, you stupid cow! I'm stronger than you!" Babs said. "I don't think so!" Fran said indignantly and slid her fingers under Barbara's huge, hanging **** against her ribs. Barbara did the same and tightening her hands around Fran's *****, her strong fingers probing the top of her breasts for the mass of swollen milk glands and began to squeeze. "You'll regret this, *****! Mine are tougher than yours!" Fran replied venomously and really piled on the pressure to Barbara's ****.

Barbara groaned as Fran's fingers gouged the fat milk glands apart, gasping each time she felt one 'pop' as it slid away beneath Fran's thumb pressure. Pained grunts burst from Fran as the audible pops of her glands were evident to all who were nearby. Clear waxy fluid oozed from their battle thickened ******s, which oiled the progress of Fran's fingers to Barbara's areolas and the rich population of mature milk ducts. In time the lymph became stained with blood as glands ruptured, so pink fluid dripped from Barbara’s swollen ******s until milk glands began t’ <<POP>>, <<POP>> inside her deep, heavily veined breast flesh. Barbara yelled out in pain as Fran gripped the areolas tightly then began to lean backwards as she pulled, stretching them.

Fran glanced down at both of their long breasts and the long cleavages formed and attempted to judge who’s were actually bigger. From this angle, there was not much in it! She began to lean backwards, gripping Barbara's ***** tightly by her areolas and long ******s and pulled them out to their full length. A long groan came from Barbara as she pulled and sat down on her heels, her arms out straight. Barbara's hands began to slip along the length of Fran's breasts, pulling long stretches in them, finally gripping the ******s in her fingers. Fran gasped at this and tortured Barbara's orbs still more.

The cheering of the crowd was now constant and intense as they sensed that the end of the fight was near. I wondered just how far their ******s and areolas could stretch! And who would give in to the pain first. I looked down at both women; their faces a mask of pain, their teeth clenched, their eyes shut tight, both emitting long groans as they leant backwards pulling each other's breasts out to their full natural length, then beyond as they stretched. "Whichever woman can last out now will win!" I thought. White fluid now glistened on their orbs and dripped from their ravaged ******s to the carpet.

The fat man was opposite me and he had taken the task of judging on behalf of all the customers and he stood over them watching intently, glancing back and forth from Fran's massive breasts to Barbara's huge ********. The sweat and lactate on their breasts and hands ensured that despite their firm grip, the women's hands slipped and pulled slowly towards their areola flesh and their ******s. Fran brought her fingers to grip around Barbara's dark areolas in her fists in a desperate attempt to retain her grip. Barbara yelled out in long bursts and pulled on Fran's areolas, her short nails squeezing into the sensitive flesh. Fran let out an ear splitting scream above all the noise and turned her fists, twisting Barbara's ******s. Both women now screamed together agonizingly as each crushed and stretched the other's areolae.

This part of the battle seemed to last an age as neither woman would give in and lose the fight. The bar quietened down a little and disparate voices shouted out encouragement to one or the other *** fighter. As they pulled each other's areolae, they finally gripped one another's thick ******s, pulling them out to unbelievable lengths. As their ear splitting screams reached a peak, each women clung on desperately, then one of them let go, I couldn't see clearly who as a split second later their hands slipped from their enemy's bosoms and each jerked backwards. The heavy breasts stretched out horizontal a moment ago slapped back onto their chests and abdomens with a "SLAP!". "Babs wins it!" the fat man shouted excitedly. "Babs **** are biggest by about this much...", he demonstrated with his fingers. "And Fran was the first to give in!" he said.

A huge cheer went up and Joan, the barmaid, helped the winner onto her feet. Both women's faces were red and tears of pain streamed down them as they gasped in agony. I pushed through the crowd to help Fran, easing her to her feet and handing her her discarded clothes. "Well done!" I said. "I think you won the toughest **** battle, but her **** were just erm, longer," I placated. "And tougher?" Fran asked sadly. "Yes, BLOODY tough," I said, "But Barbara just got incredibly lucky!" Fran was silent for a minute or two, then she looked down at her ravaged breasts and said; "I'd better go and clean up." I handed her the clothes and off she went, the picture of embarrassed defeat, to the bathroom. I glanced at my watch and noticed that the fight had lasted for more than an hour.

After Barbara came down from her apartment above the pub having changed into a clinging black dress with a plunging neckline displaying her ample braless cleavage (which we'd all seen so recently in action), the bar was buzzing with activity and everyone was congratulating Barbara and drinks were bought for both women. Fran appeared from the bathroom neatly dressed again, minus her bra and shredded black tights and stalked right up to Barbara: "Those lumps of fat might be slightly bigger than mine," she said, nodding at Barbara's chest; "But mine are the toughest: I won the fight!" she finished emphatically.

Barbara stared at her with understandable animosity; "No you didn't. But I'll *** fight you any time - *****!" Barbara answered. Amazingly, Fran kept her temper and walked away. Barbara was quite happy to remain in the same room as Fran while we finished our drinks, though neither spoke to the other, or even acknowledged one another. "I'd like to come back here in spring to finish the fight," Fran said.

"Extraordinary" I thought, my mind suddenly racing.

* * * * * * * * * * *


"Extraordinary" I thought as I snapped awake from my reverie, aided by a nudge in the ribs from Frances. "I said - shall we have another drink?" she repeated. I put my specs back on and looked around, amazed that nothing had actually changed. I looked at the three bored looking men leaning on the bar and at Joan polishing some tumblers and heard clearly the ticking of the big clock behind the bar above the faint collective murmur from the other room. "Oh - yes. Ok." I said, noticing it was almost 10 pm. "What were you thinking about?" Fran asked. "Did I nod off?" I said. “You must have done,” she said.

“Hey, I just had this argument with a woman in the ladies bathroom with huge ****,” she enthused. “They were like two large melons pushed inside her sweater. They MUST be silicon I told her and she said she was willing to prove that they were not if I was woman enough!!!" Silence reigned for a few seconds while I gathered my thoughts. "You bored?" Fran questioned. "No. Just tired," I said, taking my spectacles off and rubbing my watering eyes. "I've just had an extraordinary idea for a story!" I began, -- then the busty landlady paused on her way back from the Ladies bathroom, turned and walked up to our table, and staring at me and Fran, placed her hands wide on it and leaning across fixed Fran with a glare………


Piers Knight.