DISCLAIMER: As Carol is based on a woman in my street I've decided to change the names of some characters to protect their identity.

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FRAN?S BACK-YARD BRAWL.
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As I might have mentioned before Fran got into a lot of catfights when she was a wild teenager, but she generally won because she was bigger built and heavier than her rivals and ruthless. I was attracted to this busty woman (taking a H cup bra) because of the fact of her past catfights. Female fighting has been exciting to me since I saw my mother have a catfight with a neighbour and I thought perhaps there was a chance Fran, being of a fiery temperament might have more. However, after she became ?respectable? she firmly told me that all that was behind her now and that nothing would induce her to consider letting it happen again, but that was until the gorgeous blonde, as well built as Fran, with an equally big bust, and an equal record of winning catfights, moved in next door with her husband and one child.

With my taste in women being for the busty ones it?s not surprising that I found her very attractive. I couldn?t help it, and I was even more turned on when Carol told me of some of the catfights she had had over the years. Carol is built similar to Fran and is the sort of woman whose breasts jut out in front of her like a shelf, which, like Fran?s, look remarkable in a blouse or sweater and seem to form a shelf a short man could shelter from the rain under. Imagining Carol tit to tit with Fran gave me many sleepless nights. The appearance of Carol on the scene kept Fran on her toes and although things were ok at first, relations between them soon became frosty and within the few years Carol has lived next door she had two more children (one of them by another man, - I heard) and divorced her husband about two years ago (which accounts for all the screaming and shouting I heard through the wall), while Fran remained childless until about seven months ago when our son Alex was born.

To watch her breastfeeding him reminded me of my mother when she nursed my younger sister and despite nursing wound up in a catfight with a neighbour. Then Carol, suffering from the collapse of her marriage, began flirting with men in the surrounding houses. Fran began calling Carol all sorts of names, but after Carol alienated most of the women in the neighbourhood, including our friend Jan Smith, a busty farmer?s wife not above cat fighting herself, she began flirting with me, including making excuses to come in when Fran was out to try to seduce me. Believe me, I was flattered, (but I had been obviously way down her list!) Then she began flaunting herself and her gorgeous body openly, dressing as provocatively as Fran and making certain I was aware of her sunbathing in her garden.

At first my wife, Fran used to bid a cordial ?good morning? to Carol but more than once Fran told me that she ?didn?t like the bitch next door,? but tolerated her. The way Fran glared appraisingly at her to try to discern whether her big boobs were real or not I found a big turn on. She finally grudgingly concluded that they were real. Things grew more icy between the women as Carol?s flirting increased and began loudly bitching about Fran whenever she was within earshot, but Fran bitched just as loudly about Carol. The atmosphere became strained and my nerves were shredded as the jealousy between the two gorgeous, busty women, became more and more intense. For some time I had noticed Carol looking at Fran?s H cup bras on the washing line and comparing them with her own and as time has gone by what I can only describe as ?breast rivalry? has developed between the women and I have, over the months, seen them ruthlessly compete, in terms of fashion, with the emphasis on their voluptuous bust lines. The beneficiary has been me. I?ve seen some incredible tops designed to emphasize their best assets and once the weather warmed up towards the end of April and into May, I seemed to be surrounded by bulging breasts with prominent nipples doing their best to punch through the material.

After Fran and I got married in early April I was all for inviting our next door neighbour around to join in the celebrations, just to be friendly, but Fran emphatically overruled me. Carol has been getting more and more irritated since then and the cold relations between the women has been disintegrating day by day. I actually heard them bitching at each other over the front garden fence and it did not take long for them to get round to criticizing each other?s very prominent breasts, which were in obvious evidence as the weather towards the end of that month was very warm and they were each wearing a VERY flimsy top. A couple of days later Carol and Fran arrived back home at he same time and, instead of driving straight into her own drive at the front of her house as usual, Carol deliberately parked her car across our drive, preventing Fran from parking. This caused an awkward obstruction across the footpath and part of the road. Fran got out of her car and in the blazing sunshine I witnessed a blazing row, with Carol remaining stubbornly seated at the wheel of her car. I wished hard that Carol would get out of her car and there would be a fight, but after five minutes or so of this Carol drove her car into her own drive. Fran?s complaining about Carol had my ears ringing all night.

The next evening, Carol?s car was already in her drive and Fran expected a peaceful evening, when there was a thud on the window, then another. ?What the hell is that?? Fran said jumping to her feet. Carol?s children were throwing mud at our window and Fran went outside to remonstrate, but Carol protectively stood up for her children?s bad behavior and they crowded behind her like ducklings as Carol went into the street to confront Fran. During their argument the two women ended up literally bust to bust and pushing each other with their chests. This went on until Carol conceded that her children had behaved badly, but she left bearing a grudge. Fran knows how much of a fan I am of women?s fights and so I suggested that she should fight Carol and clear the air. Fran knows that the titfights and catfights I like to write are just pure fantasy but also knows that for me, watching a catfight would be very exciting, but that seeing a big bust catfight between two women with huge tits is something else. I?ve fantasized about Fran (38H bust) fighting the busty woman next door for years. I would like to tell you that she agreed and that this happened, - but, Fran did not agree and told me that a fight would not be a pretty or erotic sight and would make things much worse. So we let the idea go. That was, as I write this diary, last weekend (25 - 27 April), but things escalated on the following Monday.

On Monday afternoon Carol began tipping her garden rubbish over our back garden fence onto Fran?s beloved garden. Fran is a keen gardener and she was furious. I told her not to be petty by throwing it back, - but she did. From past experiences, long weekends caused by Bank Holidays, are not a good idea as it usually gives the women more time for rivalry and arguing, but by the time of the May Day bank Holiday over the following long weekend of 2 - 5 May their tempers were VERY short. That weekend Carol?s children had been very noisy and badly behaved, but the morning of 5 May started quietly enough with Fran hanging her washing out, then began gardening in her cut-off jeans (cut down into shorts), which emphasised her pubic mound a treat, and a VERY deep plunging tank top showing off her boobs to great effect, swinging in her hammock-like bra as she worked in the border facing the fence. I must explain that the fence is an open lattice fence with square holes about 20cm square and there are clematis vines growing on it. As she hung her own washing out Carol glanced over and through the fence several times at Fran, then she went into her house and came out again dressed for sunbathing in a skimpy yellow bikini. I was enjoying the sight of Carol?s huge boobs squeezed provocatively into a bikini bra, but this was enough to irritate Fran. ?Look at that flabby titted slut!? she said loud enough for Carol to hear. Carol shot her a hot glare then arranged herself on the lawn for soaking up some sun.

Fran responded to this sight by peeling off her now sweat stained tank top to reveal the true size of her big breasts thrust out straight in front of her like a shelf supported by her strong nursing bra. ?Now these are REAL tits,? she said looking from one to the other. ?Real COW tits you flabby hag!? Carol retorted from the other side of the fence as she gazed at the massive cleavage through the fence. Being something of a draftsman, I was sitting sketching Fran, mesmerized by her charms as they swung seductively from side to side as she weeded the border. When she?d gathered up the nettles and thistles she?d weeded out she placed them in her bucket, stood up and stretched her back, but then, to my complete surprise she tipped the weeds over the fence onto Carol. Carol shrieked as she was stung. ?You fucking bitch!? she shouted as she jumped up. ?What did you do that for?? she raged rushing to the fence. ?Because I felt like it!? Fran said impetuously as she took her gardening gloves off, dropped them to the lawn and placed her hands on her hips. ?Well I feel like shoving this thistle down your fat cleavage you, you, you freak!? Carol spat, waving the large Scottish thistle around which had landed on her with some nettles and glaring with some hostility at Fran?s thrust out chest. Well. You can imagine how my heart began to beat faster! I sat back on my bench under the portico against the house and put my sketch book down.


Carol headed for her garden gate, still gingerly holding the thistle by its stem. Bear in mind that our garden a small one, only 32 feet long x 22feet wide in total including the flower borders. Our two houses, being at the end of a short row of four are not overlooked and behind the houses is open farmland which stretches to the horizon with a distant view of the Pennine mountain range on a clear day. I watched the yellow of her bikini flash between the foliage and the old, green moss covered, lattice fence as she followed the short path at the bottom of my garden. The gate catch clicked and in came a very angry looking Carol, completely unaware of her dress (or lack of It). Fran picked up her black plastic bucket and, tossing it into the border, she turned to face Carol. ?Well come on you fat Canary!? Fran said alluding to her bright yellow bikini bra. ?Tipping these weeds on me is the last thing you?ll ever do!? Carol threatened. ?No. Teaching you not to keep showing your tits to my husband will be the last thing!? Fran corrected her, not realising the irony.

I had a grandstand view of Fran?s broad back as she bickered with Carol, her huge boobs visible around her sides and of the furiously angry Carol striding across the lawn, her big boobs bouncing and swaying in her barely adequate yellow bikini bra (I wondered how they didn?t bounce out of such a flimsy garment). I was impressed by the thickness of the voluminous flesh as it wobbled and decided it was as equally thick as Fran?s. For several seconds the angry women maneuvered around the lawn, arguing loudly, calling each other names and bitching at the top of their voices. Then without warning Carol pushed her boobs against Fran?s. ?You obviously think your fat ugly tits are better than mine, but I?ll prove you wrong!? she hissed, then shoved Fran backwards. I could see Fran was annoyed; ?My tits ARE better than your sagging bags of fat!? she said coming chest to chest with Carol again and on the last two words, being virtually nose to nose, gave Carol a hard shove. Carol tottered backwards four or five steps, her jarring steps making her substantial boobs bounce in her yellow bra.

?Oh yes. This could be good!? I thought as this scene opened before me. Fran began to pursue Carol and barged her again after she caught up. Their big bosoms squashed together for a couple of seconds then Carol staggered backwards two more steps across the lawn after Fran shoved her. She was ready the next time Fran barged her and she flicked her chest outwards effectively bouncing Fran backwards. Looking surprised, Fran was forced to take two steps backwards and before her boobs stopped juddering Carol barged her again: ?OUUUUGGGHHFFFHH!!? they both exploded as both women bounced backwards a step from each other. ?Right you bitch!? Fran snarled and strode forwards for another slam. Carol strode forwards too and there was a ?WHAP!? as their chests met and both women stood their ground, both bouncing back just a step. Like me, Fran did not think that Carol would really do it, but in a flash she was taken by surprise as Carol?s hands flew for Fran?s hair; - a split second later, Fran?s hands latched into Carol?s abundant yellow hair.

I watched incredulous as the two busty ladies spun each other around on the lawn yelling as they tore one another?s head about, their big boobs swinging and bouncing wildly as they collided, then distorting and squashing out of shape as the women pulled each other in tight by the hair. Their grunts and gasps turned to shrieks as they pulled one another horizontal, their bra clad boobs swinging from side to side like heavy boulders in hammocks. This was too tempting for Carol and, keeping a tight hold on Fran?s hair with one hand, began slapping and punching at her slab sided breast with her right hand. Grunting from her breasts being set swinging in this brutal way, Fran returned the attack and the two women pulled each other around in circles by their hair. Carol?s punches and slaps became more purposeful as she grabbed for the edge of Fran?s bra cup and latching her fingers in, began to tug and tear at it, but the tough garment, though pulled down, would not be removed. Carol?s flimsy bikini bra, on the other hand, yielded quickly when Fran began to pull on it and the left shoulder strap soon snapped, allowing Carol?s breast to swing clear. As Fran began punching and slapping heartily at the offending naked mammary, Carol?s hand moved to Fran?s back strap and tried to pull the garment off over her head, while her other hand moved to Fran?s right bra cup and yanked her around in this manner entirely by her bra. Fran?s hand slipped to Carol?s left strap and, holding her like this, punched and slapped all the harder at Carol?s red raw right breast.

Almost in the same instant the inevitable happed to Fran?s back band and the little clasps flew off as the thing burst while Carol?s left strap gave way to Fran?s pulling. The women flew backwards as they lost their grip, but regaining her balance quickly Fran threw her torn bra aside. Carol was not hampered by her yellow bra hanging around her waist like a belt, the broken straps hanging down around her knees and went in immediately on the attack grabbing Fran?s hair again and tearing at her tortured scalp while slapping and punching her already reddened and hand marked left breast again. The two women were still upright as they twisted one another?s head from side to side, slapping and punching each other?s left breast. Then, as Fran?s head was pulled downwards again, she let go of Carols hair and began punching and slapping her breasts with both hands. This had the desired effect and Carol quickly let go of her hair and jumped back carefully rubbing the glowing crimson hand prints and growing bruises.

Fran was soon at her again though and detecting her weakness, deliberately swung a volley of punches and slaps at Carol?s sore breasts. Carol quickly realized that she could either cross her arms over them to protect them, - and lose the fight, or respond in kind. She quickly chose the latter and loud slaps on bear flesh rang around the garden. Fran aimed to finish the fight quickly and finally gripped Carol?s left nipple and areola in a vicious pinch, twisting the flesh one way then the other. Carol instinctively stooped to try to withdraw her torso as a target, but this just facilitated Fran in tugging downwards on the agonised nipple. Carol?s right hand shot across for Fran?s hair again and the two women were horizontal once more, each now twisting her enemy?s hair and left nipple. Fran managed to twist her body the slam her left hip into Carol?s right (this is the advantage of having 11 inch long breasts, I suppose) and got her in a headlock. Carol slapped and clawed ineffectually for a few moments, then she suddenly grabbed for Fran?s muscular calves and, yanking her knees from under her, managed to throw Fran to the ground.

Fran kept a hold on Carol as she hit the ground on her left hip and Carol rolled over her to land on all fours some three feet or so away from Fran. I watched amazed as Carol, her big boobs swinging like udders threw her 182 + lbs (or so I guess) forwards and grabbed both of Fran?s upwards thrust tits as she lay winded on her back. With a twisting motion of her wrists, as though unscrewing a jar lid, she twisted Fran?s unfortunate breasts by the thickened nipples and engorged areolae. Yelling lustily, Fran reached up and grabbed both of Carol?s breasts and began trying to push her away while, at the same time, kicking her legs up from the waist to try and kick Carol?s head. These tactics worked and Carol?s hands were lifted from Fran?s boobs.


Carol initially sat back on her feet, supported by her left hand on the grass behind her while Fran rolled to her right and began getting onto her hands and knees. As Carol lunged to grab Fran?s hair again Fran launched herself at Carol and the two women, now up on their knees, tore each other?s head around by the hair as they fought to throw one another to the ground, their big breasts colliding continually. Carol dropped both of her arms around Fran?s neck and began squeezing her hard to her own chest, knowing that the compression of such large breasts impedes expansion of the lungs. She calculated that Fran?s breasts being bigger would stop her breathing. Their faces almost touching, her teeth clenched and snarling loudly, Fran pushed a forearm between their faces and grabbing Carol?s face, began trying to wrench her head round and push her away.

Carol?s right hand grabbed the left side of Fran?s head by the hair and began wrenching it round, while increasing the compression on her neck. Their boobs pushed firmly together, but it looked to me like they were trying to break one another?s neck. I felt a pang of fear for Fran: We had not been married long, I did not want to lose her so soon! Fran?s left arm clamped around Carol?s back, but the women, raised on their knees, leant into one another, increasing the compression on their chests. Carol?s muscular thighs ripples and bulged with the effort, while Fran?s looked like they would rip out of her tight cut off denims. Despite the almost painful bulge in my jeans I began walking towards them with the intention of stopping the fight. They both groaned painfully now as their necks twisted and Fran?s short finger nails punctured Carol?s face.

A second later Fran?s left hand was pushed behind Carol?s shoulders and I stopped, now that the danger was past, and watched them both increase their bear hug, their stomach?s coming together, Carol being forced backwards, her strong back resisting and, with a combination of pushing, bear hugging and tugging on Fran?s hair behind her shoulders, she forced Fran?s trunk backwards. Fran yelled out loud as her head was yanked backwards, her face looking at the sky. She returned the complement, tearing Carol?s head back hard. Sawing and tugging on one another?s hair, the bear hug now broken, the violence of their movements made it impossible for them to keep their balance, even though their knees were spread wide and seconds later, their heavy boobs swinging like clubs, they crashed to their sides, Fran on her left and Carol on her right.

The women weren?t finished with each other yet and the fighting women initially clawed and pulled at the symbols of their rival?s sexuality and womanhood. They rolled untidily around the grass, their legs flying wildly while each woman tried to do as much damage as she could to her enemy?s prominent tits. Fran found herself astride Carol?s belly and seconds later grabbed the blonde?s voluptuous orbs which rolled momentarily, then spread out, seeming to expand and shook with waves as Fran wrenched them left and right by the nipples. In retaliation, Carol pulled at Fran?s engorged nipples which were sticking straight out and pert and hauled on Fran?s boobs hard almost pulling Fran over onto herself. Screaming at this attack on her tender tits Fran had grasped each one of Carol?s naked, firm, round orbs with each clawed hand, her fingers sinking into each mass and lifting them up from Carol?s chest, dragging them upwards towards herself. The furious yelling at each other was deafening as each woman pulled her opponent?s tits as hard as she could. It seemed to me that neither woman was in pain, just unreasonably furious and determined to try to rip her opponent?s tits off her chest.

Fran?s had been pulled out for the full 11 inches or so of their length (or so it looked. Her feet planted firmly on the ground, Carol began arching her back in a desperate effort to buck Fran off her, but this resulted in Fran falling forwards, and keeping a grip on Carol?s boobs she lay against her tit to tit, grunting like an old Sow. But, to my amazement, each woman, her elbows pushed out sideways, continued to maul her rival?s tits. Both were now squashing one another?s boobs all over their chests and the mass of tit flesh bulged in all directions as the soft flesh was crushed against their ribs and in their hands. But within the space of a minute each woman had rolled onto her side and was pulling away, pulling her enemy?s tit flesh with her. Fran?s nipples, already bigger than normal from breast feeding, were now pulled out an incredible length in Carol?s tight pinch while Fran tugged downwards on Carol?s turgid looking areolas, her breast flesh stretching out and pulling long lines in them while Carol tore Fran?s hefty tits upwards towards her face.

Each now taking as much pain as they could, the pace of the action suddenly changed as they began punching, scratching and slapping one another and in a flurry of flying arms and fists the two screaming women rolled and tumbled towards the shrubbery at the end of the garden, their boobs very evident as they tumbled and rolled all over their broad chests, slapping against the ground as they rolled and coming in for more mauling and slapping, leaving them very reddened with multiple hand prints and bleeding with scratches. They came to a stop as they rolled into the bare soil and came up against the gnarled, peeling trunk of a wine glass shaped Ground Cedar. They lay on their sides facing each other, each woman cupping her opponent?s breasts and wrenching them up and down. Fran?s fingers appeared to be squeezing the life out of Carol?s as they wrapped around, and into the slim part of each breast against her chest. Carol?s fingers sank deeply into Fran?s rounded orbs, now speckled with blobs of soil.

In what I can only describe as slow motion they rolled to one side of the shrubs, - with first Carol on top, then Fran on top, - until they had rolled under the cypress altogether up against the latticework fence. I strode to the end of the garden with the notion of ending the fight, but as I arrived a splintering sound tore through the air and the flimsy lattice fence gave way. ?Damn!? I thought. ?I?ve been meaning to get that fixed for months. I?ll HAVE to now!? It?s strange what thoughts pass through the mind in times of stress. Still tearing at one another?s breast flesh, the two angry women, spitting and snarling like wildcats, rolled across the fallen fence and the slim tarmac path and dropped down the six inches or so into the field of young green corn. By the time I got to the path a group of neighbours, drawn by the noise of the fight, were gathering. I looked at the girls in the field as they grappled in the soft soil, both covered with dirt by now, their hands clasped together, their fingers interlaced, as, arm muscles bulging, they tried to push one another away, but their entwined legs gave away the truth of their determination to fight. Each with one leg hooked back by their opponent?s leg, the other forwards, their groins were thrust at one another. It was my dream fight come to life as Fran struggled to slam her pubic mound at Carol?s. Carol fought back in kind and two or three times their considerable mounds met with force.

My spine tingled as I winced when the girls let out a pained moan. I wondered who was winning on account of this obviously painful slamming. I was distracted from their moans as what had started as a few large blobs of wet on the tarmac path now began to hit the ground with audible splats as the dark rain cloud, which had drifted across us, unobserved, began to drop its contents of rain, which hissed as it grew heavier. This was obviously one of the ?heavy, possibly thundery, spring showers? which had been promised on that morning?s TV News bulletin. A white flash across the sky told me it would be a good idea to stop the fight as our neighbours fled for shelter. Soaked to the skin, I jumped into the field. Through my rain streaming spectacles I could barely see the muddied fighters. The inevitable rumble of thunder was accompanied by even heavier rain which seemed to gouge into the soil around me. My canvass garden shoes filled with wet soil as I waded towards the sound of fighting wildcats.

I arrived as they got to their feet and began circling like wrestlers, arms held out to their sides, their ravaged and muddied breasts swinging from side to side, the mud streaked their skin as the rain washed it off their hot, sweating bodies. ?Come on. We?re getting soaked!? I yelled, but ignoring me they flew at each other and seemed to grab one another with one arm while punching viciously with the other. The action was very fast, but unpleasant wet smacks and groans tore through the thick air as each tried to beat the other to pulp. As the thunder and lightening grew more frequent I felt I had no choice but to go and stop them physically. I might as well have tried to separate two wild She-Tigers as they swung each other around by their wet hair, both screaming and punching wildly and grabbing what bare flesh they could I could not get safely near them.


They tumbled to the ground in front of me and seemed to throw one another across the soft ground faster than I could walk in my waterlogged shoes. As I got closer I could see through my steamed specs that Carol was astride Fran and pinning her hands to the ground above her head, her big shapely breasts swinging around in circles as Fran struggled to get her hands free. Their arms wrestled as Fran proved the stronger and Carol?s arms jerked right back as Fran pushed and twisted. Carol shrieked as her arms twisted at the elbow joints and Fran yanked her over onto her side and rolling her onto her back, mounted her stomach. Firmly gripping each of Carol?s hands she forced them to the ground either side of her head. ?Now I?m goin? to finish you. Bitch!? Fran gasped and while Carol struggled, twisting her head from side to side Fran fell forwards, her elbows gouging into Carol?s big tits flopped out either side of her ribs and pinned them to the mud.

The howling from Carol was heart-wrenching, but it cut no ice with Fran. ?That hurt bitch?? Fran snarled. ?Huh? Huh??? she added, grinding each elbow deeper in to Carol?s boobs. Fran?s full 11 or 12 inches length of her tits spread out in front of her as she bore down, pressing against Carol?s neck. Fran then raised her elbows as she pulled back, but not for humanitarian reasons, only for as long as it took to slide her ass backwards and flip her huge tits over Carol?s face, then she fell onto her forearms, crushing Carol?s tortured tits into the soil. Carol?s head twisted wildly from side to side but her face just wound up completely buried between Fran?s boobs. Realizing that Carol could still breath in the deep cleavage and might try to fight back once she?d got her breath back, Fran twisted her back until the one single big, fat right tit lay over Carol?s nose and mouth. Fran started to yell as Carol managed to bite into the flesh of the big breast, but, now gurgling between clenched teeth Fran bore down with her chest and forearms both suffocating Carol and grinding her abused tits horribly.

As I reached the battle-cats Carol?s back arched as she kicked and thrashed her legs around ineffectually then lay still as Fran lay exhausted on top of her. Fran barely heard me for the peal of thunder overhead as I slipped my hands under her arms to try to lift her off Carol. She came up fighting, screaming furiously at me and lashing out. I dodged out of the way, but not until my forearms had been slashed by her claws. Realizing the fight was over, she tumbled exhaustedly onto her back beside Carol and they both lay there in the black mud heaving for breath. It was hard to tell the bruising from the mud, but both seemed to have battered each other?s faces until they were bruised and swollen, their chests covered in scratches and their big boobs flopped out to their sides; Carol?s horribly bruised and swollen where Fran?s elbows had dug into them. If the soil had not been so soft she would have been much more seriously injured! The rain must have been cooling to their battered bodies, but I was soaked to the skin and I was not going to leave them lying there.

Amidst the torrential rain and the peals of thunder I helped them both back towards the houses, each of us stumbling and falling at various points in the mud. I hoped that this fight had now cleared the air, but unlike a couple of men who might now see the funny side of the dispute and be best of friends it had actually made matters worse and the screaming arguments which were to follow over the next few days were almost intolerable and I began to find my appetite for female on female violence waning.

To finally settle the war between them and to prove who the better woman is, in desperation, I suggested that as they could not beat each other in a cat-fight, a Tit Fight might settle it. To my surprise, their arguing stopped and they both agreed. Fran agreed that it would be a classic titfight with both women completely naked and with their hands bound behind their backs - on the proviso that there would be no interference from anyone, - which meant me! I?m still a bit dubious about what kind of damage one relatively soft breast can do against another. ?Well, just wait and see!? was all Fran said. Carol immediately set about ?phoning her latest boyfriend to come and be a witness to the fight.

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There was a very peculiar atmosphere over the following week as they each healed and studiously avoided one another. By the middle of May Fran announced that she was going into training. I assumed that she was going to intensify the weight training she usually does to keep fit. I was mystified: For the next two weeks I had heard ?Thump!? ?Thump!? ?Thump!? coming from Carol?s house next door. ?What the heck is she up to?? I asked several times without any enlightenment from Fran, though she indicated that she knew something I did not. Then one Saturday morning, (24 May,) I heard a rhythmic ?Thump!? ?Thump!? ?Thump!? coming from our bedroom and reverberating through the floor boards. I crept upstairs to see what Fran was up to, expecting her to be doing her favourite weight training, but I was more surprised than she was when I saw her stark naked, feet spread wide, with the cupboard door open and swinging her long, firm breasts at either side of the door jamb.

?What on earth?? I began.
?Go away. I?m toughening them up for the tit fight!? was all she would say. I found this stimulating as I heard ?Slap! Thump!? - ?Slap! Thump!? - ?Slap! Thump!? - ?Slap! Thump!? - over and over, her breasts glowing with the beating up she was giving them, her nipples having pushed out to seemingly twice their thickness and length, the meat of her breasts looking thicker than ever.
?Is that what Carol?s been doing?? I asked.
?Yes!? a flustered Fran said virtually steaming with sweat as she swung her boobs - ?Swish, SlapThump!!? - ?Swish, SlapThump!!? - ?Swish, SlapThump!!? - now grunting with each smack, her powerful, sinewy legs staggering as she tired. Several more blows, then she asked me to hold the cupboard door while she set about clobbering it with her boobs.

I didn?t expect such power as the first blow almost knocked it from my hands.
?For fuck?s sake! Hold it!!!? an exasperated Fran swore. And more than once my elbow joints and shoulders were jarred as I clung onto the door.
?Have you been doing this long?? I asked.
?Just a few days,? she said.
?They?ll be tough enough by June First,? she added.
?As you now know, it won?t matter if I step up the training!? she said and went to stand in the open bedroom doorway and began whacking her tits against the wall either side of the vacant door jamb. The slaps came even harder and faster.
After an indeterminate time Fran decided that was enough and went to take a shower.
?So this fight?s to take place on 1st of June ?? I asked, standing outside the shower while the hot water hissed over Fran.
?Yeah! I told you. - Next Sunday night!? Fran hollered.
?You might have told me sooner!? I said.
?I did!? Fran called back;
?Just now!? ?
?Does Carol know?? I ventured.
?No. You can tell her if you like!? she shouted back.
?Do you trust me then?? I asked tentatively.
?You know which side your bread is buttered!? she added menacingly.
?And so does that bitch!? she spat.
?I want you to help with my training tomorrow!? I was intrigued and surprised on the next day when she stooped forwards with her hands on her legs above her knees and told me to ?use them like punch bags!? I was amazed that the dull smack after smack of my fist didn?t seem to hurt them, but they were soon glowing red with thick veins raised.

So the following Sunday, - the 1st June was set for the big tit battle.


Piers Knight.

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(Classic Titfight to follow in Fran and Carol?s Final Battle.)