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Susan said something I didn?t hear and Carolyn grimly nodded assent. Putting their heads on the other?s shoulders, they reached down towards the other **** once again. But instead of pulling or ripping, they began to softly rub and caress each other! They had given each other all the pain they could handle, so the one who gave the most pleasure would win via the loser?s ******. I had heard about girls being in fights like this from friends, but had never seen it happen.

Neither girl knew much about sex, so at first it was just rubbing, but Susan soon began to stroke Carolyn?s **** with her right hand. Carolyn gasped but returned the favor and with her left hand put three fingers inside Susan?s ****** and began pumping in and out for all she was worth. Susan matched her and for the next several minutes they
stayed locked together this way, one hand caressing ****, the other pumping ****. Their breath was now in short, sharp gasps and it was obvious that both were ready to come.

It was Susan that finally broke first. "My God, I?m going to come!" she screamed as a massive ****** shook her entire frame. Her fingers came out of Carolyn and she leaned back on her haunches, seemly oblivious of the pain from her mangled *** sitting on the heels of her feet.

Carolyn, barely able to contain herself, staggered to her feet in front of the beaten Susan. She thrust her swollen **** lips in Susan?s? face, obviously wanting Susan to kiss and lick her ****. Susan, beaten and humiliated, buried her head between Carolyn?s legs and within 30 seconds Carolyn was shuddering from her own mountainous ******.

I walked over to Carolyn, who seemed to be barely conscious and almost carried her to the dressing room. I then went back for Susan, who still lay sobbing in the middle of the ring. Neither girl said anything to the other that night, but I remember Carolyn muttering on the way back to the dressing area was "the ***** didn?t suffer enough. I
can beat her worse" while Susan?s? only comment to me was "I?ll get that **** back...she?ll pay for this." Carolyn moved out of the apartment the next day, embarrassed I guess that I had seen her in such a state and Susan transferred to another college in a neighboring state. Every once in a while I think about the fight and idly wonder if a rematch ever took place, and I find I have this goofy grin and that old familiar warm spot in my jeans again.

story by Ann

Cavalier Magazine Online