Free (Tits) At Last

Dave and Hillary stood in the spare bedroom of their home again awaiting a titfight. This time Hillary, for the first time in her life, was staring across at a supple, athletic nubian warrior whose large, conical breasts were topped by to engorged chocolate nubs that seemed like spearheads ready to pierce her own voluptuous rack. To understand how this meeting came to be, we have to step back to a luncheon held by Hillary’s company this past Saturday.


******


Hillary’s company had been devoting volunteer time and financial support to local, minority owned businesses for years as part of Black History Month. In recent years it had expanded to a full fledged program that was helping start businesses, provide scholarships, and other meeting other needs as they arose. This year they had begun to focus some energy on immigrants from African nations who were developing startups in the area. The highlight of the month was an award ceremony recognizing the most meaningful persons of the intervening year. This year the ceremony, like the ones before it, fell on the Saturday before the observation of Martin Luther King Jr. Day, as a means of allowing the weekend to lead into even greater celebration of the holiday itself.


Dave looked like his usual self. Handsome, still in good shape despite getting well into his 30s, and confident because he was hung like a horse. Hillary was sophisticated yet oozing sexuality in a sequined black number with a moderately low bustline and tiny spaghetti straps performing heavier lifting than they had been designed for. Her hint of pale cleavage was just enough to remind most women that she was the tit queen of the room, with most who dared question that reality sent home with their own lesser racks flapping in the wind. They were an upper middle class couple whose limits were only their own ambitions.


As they arrived at the banquet, they were quickly greeted by Hillary’s former boss Joseph, and his wife Mary. The thick, busty older redhead, greeted Hillary with a titcrushing squeeze and a whisper into her ear, “I’m crushing you again Hill.” After releasing the obviously too long hug, Mary and Joseph led the couple to the table where their assigned seats were. The two couples would be 4 of 6 at the table as name placards for Matata and Neema, two people unknown to Dave and Hillary, sat on the plates set for the other two seats which were currently empty.


The two familiar couples sat and laughed as they caught up on their lives since the surprise titfight on Christmas Day. While jovial, Hillary bristled at losing to the older woman, feeling that she should have won despite the size and surprising firmness of her opponents weapons. They carried on, as if they had always been close, when Hillary caught a gleam in the eye of Mary as her head turned slightly. Hillary, quickly followed by Dave, turned to see a stunningly beautiful young couple, their mocha like skin and lithe, muscular bodies standing out even in their formal wear.


The new couple smiled as they took their seats, reveling in the brazen gawking that Dave and Hillary were doing. Joseph broke the awkward silence, “This is Matata and his wife Neema. They’re originally from Uganda and have been here for nearly 3 years now. They started an educational organization that focuses on providing materials covering African history that is accessible to all grade levels as a supplement for Black History Month and colonial history.”


As the evening continued, the couples became acquainted with each other and enjoyed the ceremony. As the alcohol flowed, Hillary became increasingly suspicious that the new woman was sizing her up, stealing glances at her chest. She was also starting to wonder if the new man was doing the same instead of simply ogling her stupendous mammaries the way most men did. When she mentioned it to Dave, while the other two couples were discussing something, he told her that she was just drunk and imagining things because she was itching to have another titfight and prove that hers were once again the unbeatable tits they had always been.


Thinking that her husband was right, she pushed the idea out of her mind until the night was finally winding down. With all the awards given and people recognized, a DJ played a selection of African hip hop, and the three couples continued their conversation with the elder members primarily directing things. Conversation ranged into some of the peculiarities of Uganda, and all of Africa, eventually being steered towards the uniqueness of the younger couple both being Swahili ethnically, yet Ugandan nationally. At the mention of how Swahili names have meaning, Dave asked the obvious question, “If you don’t mind me asking, what do each of your names mean?”


Neema answered first, “My name means ‘born at a prosperous time.’ My parents were both doctors and I was their firstborn. With their own personal wealth, and the rise of the Ugandan economy over the last several decades, I feel it is a rather apt description of my time of entry into the world.”


“And my name,” Matata followed, “means ‘troublemaker.’”


“Oh really?” Mary interjected all too gleefully, “and what, praytell, kinds of trouble do you make?”


Matata, grinning slyly, answered her, “It depends on the circumstances of the moment. I feel as if our educational work is considered trouble by many who don’t like to hear other perspectives. I was a bit of a scoundrel during my youth. But recently I’ve enjoyed coaxing women into titfighting with my wife and watching her perfect breasts beat them into submission.”


As he finished his statement, his gorgeous better half subconsciously pulled her shoulders back, thrusting her bountiful bosom forward in a clear challenge. Before Hillary even had time to comprehend the changing atmosphere of the evening, Mary spoke up again with glee in her voice and a glimmer in her eyes, “Well isn’t that interesting. Hillary, I don’t recall you having fought a woman of color before, and here’s one who just happened to sit at your table tonight. What are the odds that you would have two things in common with a complete stranger?”


“Two things?” Dave questioned?


“Why yes Dave, your wife and her new friend here both are accomplished titfighters and both have been beaten by me.” Mary continued, “I let that news slip to Matata and Neema to see if they were interested in meeting you and maybe setting up a little contest to see which one of my victims is better. Of course, I already know whose tits are better, but neither of you would be willing to believe me about it. You’re both proud enough in your endowments to want to let them settle it, and I can’t wait to find out I was right after you tangle.” Joseph shared his wife’s knowing look, suggesting that he too knew who the winner would be.


Hillary shot Mary a quick glare and then immediately re-engaged her new potential opponent. She looked with a keener eye than before, desperately trying to find a flaw. What she saw was an exotic beauty with a face a model would kill for and a lean, well muscled body with large breasts whose size was magnified by its lack of proportionality with the rest of her body. Hillary was sure of one thing, she was bigger than the young Ugandan, and she didn’t see anything that would suggest she was any less firm.


Neema, and Matata for that matter, had predatory looks highlighting their striking features. The young woman saw an older white woman, probably around her mid 30s, with short blonde hair, porcelain skin, and an inviting cleavage that suggested a slightly larger bust. She was certain there was a bra, or the cut of the dress itself, that was holding the luscious tits up higher than their natural position and that once they were let loose, she was batter the big, soft udders into oblivion before trying her hand again at Mary.


As the discussion began in earnest, with all three couples offering suggestions, for the specifics of the contest, it was finally determined that Monday at Dave and Hillary’s place would be the venue, with a friendly contest between black and white being a great showcase for the equality of opportunity that the holiday’s namesake so vigorously and eloquently desired. The stakes were simple, loser has to tell everyone in the room who’s tits won and why they did, then she sucks on the victorious rack until the winner is satisfied. As there was no animosity, and this was being done as much for sport as any other reason, neither fighter saw cause for anything more than that.


As the couples parted for the evening, the requisite awkward hug that lasted too long occurred between the impending combatants. Hillary immediately had a look of confusion cross her face as her opponent’s slightly smaller breasts gave significantly on first contact. Before she could fully comprehend it, Neema shimmied her shoulders slightly, pushing her tits all over those of the beautiful blonde, and whispered into her ear, “I hope you’re ready to get your tits whipped.” Hillary giggled faintly into the young nubian princess’ ear, “Your weak tits will know their place when I’m done with you.”


******


As had become customary when fighting on her home turf, Hillary prepared in the master bedroom while Dave escorted her foe to the spare bedroom on the right and the end of the upstairs hallway. The typical instructions were given regarding stripping down and waiting for Hillary to join them. Neema, however, stripped down to a gold thong but kept her loose fitting top on. Moments later Hillary entered the room wearing a robe and addressed the young woman without a hint of emotion in her voice, “I’m surprised you showed up. We both felt my superior boobs squash yours when I wasn’t even trying. I’ve beaten better than you when I was barely out of a training bra, but if you want to go through with it, go ahead and get that top off so I can finish the day with a nice ego boost and another notch in my belt.”


Neema seemed unaffected by the commentary from the blonde, though she was a little taken aback by how nonchalant the statements were. She knew her tits did give in on that first contact but didn’t believe it was indicative of what could happen in a prolonged fight. Also, she had learned from Mary that her opponent typically fought nude and she was hoping to take advantage of that to level the playing field if necessary. Looking across the room, she showed a flair for showmanship and, as she was pulling off her shirt she loudly proclaimed, “In the spirit of the holiday. Free at last, free at last, thank God Almighty my tits are free at last!” Her beautiful, conical mocha breasts slapped down onto her chest with an impressive clap and her large areolas and nipples were tight and at full attention.


Hillary took in the image for a moment and decided that her opponent was probably a full C, or even small D cup. Slightly smaller than herself, and not nearly as visibly firm, but far better than average in both of those fields. Expecting the same look of surprise she had gotten from Eliza, Hillary whipped off her robe with gusto, showing her naked body in all of its glory. She revelled in the fact that Matata stared at her, seemingly awestruck, but was confused when her opponent appeared to be completely unaffected.


With the preliminaries out of the way, and stakes confirmed, the women slowly engaged each other in the middle of the room with nothing but their breasts initially coming into contact. It was clear to all in the room that Hillary was both bigger and firmer as Neema’s impressive rack gave ground immediately, almost being engulfed on initial contact, her nipples getting bent straight down to the ground by an obviously superior pair.


“We both felt this the other night. Did you actually think you were going to have a chance against me?” Hillary asked, almost gently. “I’m going to batter your boobs in front of your man, and mine, and then you’re going to suck on my spectacular globes until I decide you’ve worshipped them enough. You’re going to be so easy.”


Neema didn’t even look down to see how much ground her tits had already given. She quickly reached up and grabbed Hillary’s shoulders, holding the blonde almost complete still, and began rapidly swinging her shoulders back and forth, firing her looser, but still heavy, tits into Hillary’s with increasingly loud slaps. Hillary, for her part, was content to fire back as much as she could with her limited movement, enjoying the fact that her tits were taking the blows well and her opponents weaker tits were losing nearly as much firmness despite being the aggressor.


Hillary decided to change the rhythm of the fight and, despite the wiry muscle of her opponent, was able to use her greater bulk to force her way forward. Grabbing the hips of the younger fighter, Hillary fired a shot directly into the opposing orbs and then held firm, driving into the softer flesh. Neema, for her part, didn’t fight the move and placed her hands on Hillary’s hips in a mirror image. As Hillary began marching the nubian princess to the wall, Neema changed her tactic slightly, running her nails lightly across the hips and ass of her opponent.


Hillary, finding the new touch to be almost sensual and erotic, hesitated for a moment and Neema plastered herself to the white woman’s body. She began to blow gently on the neck of the blonde and then quickly nibbled her ear. The younger woman dipped slightly and followed with a push of her full breasts into the bottom of the pale pair that had been battering them. Along with that maneuver, she raised her arms to the shoulderblades of her foe and continued with the gentle, caressing work her nails were doing, drawing a sigh of contentment from Hillary. Feeling her opponent losing focus, Neema continued, sliding her strong, lithe thigh between the blonde’s legs, rubbing it slowly up and down against the uncovered love hole while letting her boobs continue to go to work on the soft undersides of the older woman.


Realizing she had her foe immobilized, Neema again changed the course of the action. Hillary’s eyes flew open as she first felt her opponent grab her forearms and then felt her tits getting slapped from underneath with tremendous force sending them flying up to her face, receiving another blow as the offending orbs of the black woman slammed down on top of her rack just as it had slapped breastbone on return to its normal location from the first blow. Neema was alert enough to know how far Hillary had backed her up during the initial contact and used her sinewy muscle to quickly swing the blonde around, slamming her back into the wall and knocking the wind out of her host.


As her arms were held to the wall above her head, her opponents tits beginning to burrow through the bottom of her own brilliant bust, Hillary’s body began to flush from exertion and arousal. Her tormentor had once again placed a thigh between her legs, grinding her delicate flower while attaching her lips to the proud blonde’s neck in a torrent of kisses and licks before inhaling enough flesh for a sizable hickey. She couldn’t figure out what was going on as her mind began to fog over. She knew this woman had somehow figured out that she got incredibly horny during these contests and was using her own stimulation against her. Her eyes shifted over to the men where she saw neither one saying a word, Matata simply observing the action with a smug look on his face, while her own husband had dropped his drawers and was slowly massaging his fully engorged cock as he intently watched the action. She knew she had to block out the attention Neema was giving her, if she came she likely wouldn’t have the strength to withstand an assault on her tits until it was too late, but she was already mewing and panting from the work being done on her body by the sexual panther whose grasp she couldn’t escape.


The Ugandan raised her head to Hillary’s ear and nuzzled it with her nose as she spoke, “Mary told me how you like to have sexual stakes in your fights and then you and Dave fuck like bunnies all night after you win. I’m going to push all your buttons until you gush like a geyser right here on the floor, while I’m also breaking your fantastic tits. Yes, your tits are firmer, but I’m more of a woman than you’ll ever be and I’m going to beat them while you enjoy every minute of it. Do you hear how turned on your man is right now? Get ready to worship your masters.”


Everybody heard how turned on Dave was. He attempted to cheer his wife on, but he was still slowly stroking his dick and was barely able to release a guttural groan in support of his blonde tit queen. “Come on Hill, don’t let her distract you. Beat her tits before she gets you off.” The comical nature of his obviously conflicted support only increased the smugness of Matata’s expression, as he was thoroughly enjoying his wife slowly but surely taming this gorgeous blonde and her fabulous tits.


Dave, on the other hand, was starting to come to grips with more than his own member. He had never mentioned to his wife that most of his recurring memories from her fights with Eliza were with the brunette winning. He hadn’t shown Hillary the picture he saved from her embarrassing defeat against Joyce. He hadn’t told her that not only was it the only picture he took that night, but he shared it with Eliza. He certainly hadn’t mentioned the email he had archived just after New Year’s Day that he got from Billy and Eliza with both of them striking a similar pose over a very well endowed brunette and her boyfriend. Now, here he was watching some woman whose tits couldn’t stand up to his wife’s beginning to dominate her sexually and he couldn’t help but be completely aroused. He loved his wife, he loved the epic sexual escapades that followed her victories over Eliza, but he couldn’t deny that there was something about watching her lose that turned him on at least as much. How had he gone from not even knowing about this part of his wife’s life to being an active participant who enjoyed seeing her lose in just a few short months?


With Hillary lightly panting, Neema decided it was time for her next moves. She pulled her tits back from their position buried in the undersides of the blonde’s softening globes and lined them up before pushing straight in. A smile broke out on her face as she liked what she saw. “Look at them Hillary, look at what our tits are doing now.” And Hillary did look. Her head still foggy from the stimulation overload, she was able to comprehend the sight before her. Much like she had done to women with firmer boobs than her own, she realized that the woman pressing into her had softened her breasts to the point that the space that each pair was giving up was, at best, equal and it was likely that her own stupendous chest was giving more at the moment.


Neema pressed forward a bit and, bringing her lips into contact with the blonde, spoke right into her mouth, “You’re ready. Here comes the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had. Once you gush I’m going to finish your tits off and leave you beaten like the overstuffed has been you are.” With that she plunged her tongue between the lips of her opponent, pulled the arms of her foe together above her head and grabbed them with one hand, and slipped her other hand between their bodies and began to lightly stroke the outside of the puffy pink lips of the already lubricating blonde. As she slipped a finger inside the blonde she broke the kiss and said loudly enough for the whole room to hear, “Come on, be my little sex fountain spraying all over the floor baby. You know you want this. Just let go and I’ll end your struggle soon.”


Hillary realized this was her last chance, her thighs were already glistening in the soft light of the room, and if this predator was allowed to continue she was going to make the blonde go off and then finish off her tits without opposition. Breaking the grip on her wrists she quickly re-engaged the kiss, using her fantastic tongue that had given Dave the best blowjobs he had ever experienced, to press down on Neema’s and take initiative in the fight. She quickly wrapped her opponent up in a bear hug, both of Neema’s arms trapped to her sides, and laid her larger breasts on top of the mocha mounds that had been softening her own.


She began her assault by pushing down, allowing her leverage and greater mass to start pressing down on the beautiful breasts that had been working hers over. Her nipples, rock hard and fully engorged from the sexual stimulation she had been experiencing, immediately pierced the top of the smaller boobs below them. She could feel the discomfort her opponent was experiencing, both from the renewed assault from her breasts and the difficulty breathing that her supremely skilled mouth was causing. As she felt the ground she had lost earlier begin to melt away, she lowered the position of her tits and lined them up nipple to nipple with the chocolate nubs that had so easily bent in submission to them at the start of the night. Once again, her nipples obliterated the weak tips of the Ugandan, causing a cry of pain that was completely engulfed by the two still enjoined mouths.


Hillary quickly spun the younger woman around and pinned her to the wall, boring in with her still fantastic tits. She didn’t dare let up, knowing that she was still overheated and it wouldn’t take much to set her off. The blonde started to use her tits to direct those of her foe. Pushing side to side, up and down, smearing the offending set all over the chest where they were perched. One particularly good punch into the smaller pair brought a moan from Neema into Hillary’s mouth that cause her to break the kiss and smile at the trapped woman while she broke into her familiar style of emotionally detached taunting, “Did you feel that bitch? You’ve tried every dirty trick you can, you had my boobs pinned all night, and I’m still crushing your weak funbags in front of your man. Does he like watching you lose, because he must do it a lot? Have your weak tits ever beaten anyone?”


“Get off me cow!” Neema almost screamed breathlessly.


“It’s not easy to get me off, but you already learned that didn’t you?” Hillary taunted with a false confidence, hoping to convince her opponent that there was no reason to return to her sexual attack. But the move didn’t work as Neema, whose arms were trapped inside the bearhug, was able to snake one hand back to the sopping wet snatch she had been working on before. Hillary, afraid to lose the advantage her tits had regained, refused to release the grip and simply moved her legs backwards in hopes that she would be out of the reach of Neema’s hands while still being able to apply enough pressure to her boobs to elicit a surrender, but there was no such luck.


Hillary’s pussy made a sopping, sucking sound as the African woman worked first one, then two, and finally three fingers inside her, fingering her with vigor. Hillary redoubled her efforts to flatten the tits in front of her, hoping to accomplish that before her body betrayed her and left her drained and at the whims of a talented fighter who would surely be able to finish her off in her weakened state. The men watched as intently as they had all night. Dave, still handling himself shamelessly while Mat seemed assured that his wife would still prevail.


That’s when Dave heard it start. The little noises that his wife makes before she cums. Hillary, as voracious as she can be, would become almost fully compliant once an orgasm started to come. First would be the little grunts and yips, then the slight sighs and coos, and finally the series of deeper, longer moans before she finally explodes. As he looked on, he heard the sighs and coos begin even as her opponent’s face was wracked with pain from the destruction her tits were enduring. As the nubian goddess continued to torture his beautiful wife’s cunt, he finally heard it, the long, deep moan that signaled an orgasm. Everybody in the room heard it. But they heard it from Neema as her tits finally broke and her hand dropped from the groin of the blonde who had defeated her.


“Look down bitch,” Hillary calmly stated. Neema did so, and had to stifle a laugh despite her pain. The conical shape of her own breasts had allowed Hillary’s to burrow in between them so full that the front of each tit was point outward, nipples facing the side walls of the room. “Look at what I did to them. I beat your tits so bad they’re literally trying to run away. Tell our men whose tits are better, and make it good or you’re not going anywhere.”


“My tits were destroyed by your perfect titties. They’re so scared of your magnificent mammaries that they’re trying to jump off my chest so they can run away and hide. They were never a match for your superior jugs. My tits were mastered by yours and know their place.”


Looking scornfully at the younger woman, Hillary backed away and demanded the stakes be fulfilled. Upset by the tactics of her opponent, she looked over to Matata and said, “Come here big boy. While your pathetic wife worships my left breast, I want you to do the same to my right. I want you to taste and feel what a real woman’s tit is like so that you’ll know why your lesser half’s pitiful tits had no chance against them. Maybe next time you’ll know better when you try and pick a fight for her.”


Neema immediately pulled off the left orb and protested, “Hey, that’s not what we agreed to!”


Hillary grabbed the hair of the other woman and calmly said, “We also didn’t agree to a sexfight but you couldn’t keep you mouth and your hands to themselves all night. You’re lucky I don’t make him eat my pussy and then have Dave finally unleash his cum all over your face.”


Neema, realizing the older woman was serious, continued to glare at her but went back to sucking on the winning teat. Mat joined her and, to the dismay of his wife, seemed enthralled with the perfect globe as he vigorously suckled it like a starving child. Hillary relished the attention as she looked over at Dave, still judiciously stroking his raging hardon, then winked at him and said, “I’ll take care of that as soon as these losers are done bowing to their master.”


Finally satisfied, Hillary released the couple from their breast worship, basking in the baleful look on the woman’s face and the contrasting blissful look of her husband. Neema quickly got redressed and as the couple got ready to leave, had a parting shot for the blonde victor. “Your tits are better than mine, and I’m okay with that because I know I’m more of a woman than you’ll ever be. If you doubt that, I’m more than willing to come back here and prove it with a sexfight. We’ve all seen how easy you are already. You’ll probably cum more tonight thinking about what I did to you here than you will from your husband. He probably will cum thinking about it too more than he will from your lousy fucking. If you’re woman enough to face me again, we’re going to keep going until one woman can’t take it and either gives up or passes out because she can’t cum anymore.


The visitors quickly retreated to their car and drove off leaving the host couple still standing there, mouths wide open, trying to understand what had just happened.