Postpartum Aggression

Maxime and Camille have a beautiful daughter named Annabelle who is sleeping soundly in our spare crib upstairs. The couple’s French ancestry was obvious to the eye, even before you heard their names. Each being the child of a French immigrant to the US, they were drawn to each other at a young age.

They met in New York, as teenagers, and were together on-and-off for nearly 10 years before deciding to finally get married and start a family. Camille was having a little trouble connecting with the baby and feared postpartum depression might be in store for her. Both of them were struggling with being new to the area as Maxime’s job in the aerospace industry had taken them from everyone and everything they knew back east and plopped them down here in Wichita.

Nora had somehow gathered this information, though she wouldn't tell me how, and used it to approach the modelesque mother. Conversation ensued in which my wife suggested that a way to get over the blues of being in a new place and struggling a bit with a first child would be to take charge of the circumstances by doing something new and empowering.

The bait worked. Here we were just a few weeks after Nora had beaten our old Mennonite acquaintance Ruth, with our two older girls still away at camp, with this almost unknown couple sitting in our living room. Maxime was a handsome man with a sense of fashion that looked like it was ready for a runway in Paris more than a lame “Town Center” in Kansas. If I was Nora I would jump his bones in front of me without hesitation.

Camille, on the other hand, definitely had my radar pinging. It wasn't just that she was gorgeous, it’s that she was so close to Chantal it was eerie. They had somewhat different body types, Chantal’s being muscular and fit compared to the more angular and long features of Camille, but while the new mom sat there waiting for the fight to start I couldn't help but thinking that from the shoulders up they could have been twins.

Camille appeared to be well equipped for the fight, but I wondered if Nora was trying to either clear some sort of mental hurdle before going at Chantal again or if it was entirely in her subconscious. I kept a lower profile than usual for this one as Nora had filled me in on the other couple several days in advance. The anticipation was a killer, again, but I almost feel like I’m starting to get used to these nights.



With the pleasantries seemingly out of the way, the two women began their preparation. Nora, as comfortable as ever, put on her little show again. The quick skirt drop, flashing a bit of canary yellow thong before the long blouse covered it up. The turn to unbutton and drop the shirt, exposing that exquisite ass. The spin back around to face the other couple before opening the front clasp of the strawberry red bra, throwing her shoulders back to push her tits out and maximize their appearance, and the quick drop of the bra as her hands settled onto her hips with a look of confidence.

Camille slipped her heels off, and stood up shaking her glimmering black hair out of her face. Her olive skin accented just perfectly to enhance her naturally dusky, sensual look. Her brown/black eyes like sparkling nothingness. Her limbs were long and lean, with hints of muscle, yet her height was barely equal to my wife’s. She pushed her still covered chest forward, her one sleeve, neck high deep purple midi dress looking like it was painted on.

With a look of excitement, but no hint of fear, the other woman quickly unzipped the side of the dress and then peeled the sleeve down to allow it to drop the the floor below her. Standing in nothing but a sheer lime green bra and matching thong, the French woman reached behind her back quickly unclasping the restrictive garment.

What stood across from my wife was runway perfection. Camille was tanned everywhere, not the faintest hint of a tan line to be found. She was thin, with long arms and legs, yet fit without being too muscular. What weight she did have was well proportioned except up top. I don’t know what her bra size was before the baby, but at this point she was packing a couple of cannonballs that looked like they might explode at any moment.

Her thin frame actually enhanced their appearance, making them look bigger than Nora’s while they were still standing several feet apart. As they came together and slowly allowed first nipples and then full breasts to touch, I saw that despite how full they looked compared to her body, Camille’s boobs were a fraction smaller than Nora’s.

The real difference was in the nipples, with our 3 children having aided Nora’s in gaining some length over the years while Annabelle had not yet had the same effect on her mother. Nora’s nipples were clearly bigger, and her boobs slightly bigger, but Camille looked firmer to the eye. That, of course, was no sure thing until they actually began battling it out.

A couple of pumps into one another started the contest off. There weren't slams, or swipes, or violent bumps, just 3-4 good solid grinds to feel things out. I wasn't sure if Nora was just being cautious and seeing what she was really up against, but her face had a puzzled look on it that I couldn't place. Camille, on the other hand, almost cracked a little grin as my wife stepped back and shook her arms out quickly.



Reengaging quickly, Nora again settled for just pressing her big boobs into the other pair and smothering, grinding, and smearing along with her opponent in close quarters. Camille’s expression finally settled into something almost feral, like this was the biggest thrill she had experienced in months and something she was starting to believe she could win. Nora, on the other hand, looked intent yet not overly aggressive.

Nora suddenly mewled, with her opponent starting in on her, “Do you like might firmer nipples pinning down your bigger ones? Does it make you hot knowing that the pleasure they’re feeling now is only going to make the pain they endure later that much worse?” With that she winked at my wife and continued her movements with a smile on her face.

Apparently my wife was either so confident that she was allowing herself a moment of pleasure before taking control, or she was genuinely caught off guard by the ability the other nipples had to stimulate hers in such a way. Solving that problem was easy as she pulled back and sent a two tittied slam into the opposing pair causing Camille to wince and curse at the effect.

Following this up a couple of more times, Nora allowed Camille to stagger away from the attack for the moment and return the verbal volley, “Did your titties like the feeling of my much bigger nipples poking holes in them? Do you like knowing exactly how I’m going to flatten and milk your swollen little boobs? Why don’t you get back over here instead of running away the first time I slap your fat girls around?”

Nora didn't wait for Camille to rejoin the battle, striding purposefully toward the other mom who barely had time to try and brace herself for the impending boob slam. Two pale boobs smacked two tan ones and forced the first jiggle in their flesh that I had seen so far. The other woman’s exotic features showed obvious pain while my thicker, curvier, stronger wife used her experience to slam her new foe all the way back to the wall.

Just before the other woman made contact with the wall, Nora caught her off guard with a bear hug, her body plastering itself to Camille’s and creating immense pressure between the warring bosoms. A whimper escaped the tan mom’s mouth as she arched her head back after a squeeze from my wife, only to have it strike the wall. Thinking quickly for her situation, the beauty used a foot against the wall to push up and out, causing her body to almost jump out of the bear hug but maintain the breast to breast contact as both women toppled to the ground with Camille on top.



Nora lay gasping, almost silently, as she couldn't get the air in to wail at the pain in her chest. Camille’s full body weight had landed on top of her, compressing the boobs brutally with gravity’s aid. The other mom rolled off to the side, clutching her chest and rocking lightly back and forth, but she still seemed in much better shape than my wife who appeared to be in utter agony.

Sensing a chance to end things, Camille crawled back over towards Nora, likely hoping to straddle her and drop boob bombs down until my wife quit. Thankfully, the pale mom was able to roll over just enough to keep that from happening, forcing the darker skinned tigress to rethink her strategy on the fly. What she came up with was quite good though, pulling Nora into a sitting position before leaning in and spearing the bigger chest with her own firm girls.

Nora again tried to wail but did little more than breathlessly say no while her boobs gave up a significant amount of their space to the invading rack. While Camille’s boobs were also giving ground, they looked to be better off and grinding in from the better leverage point allowed them to begin expressing milk involuntarily from my wife. Being in the advantageous position, and with her boobs having taken less damage than Nora’s, it was telling that she still wasn't strong enough to push my wife around and was starting to leak some breast milk as well while initiating the contact.

My question, at that moment, was about her pain tolerance and her overall endurance, as I felt like my wife’s experience and improved conditioning might allow her to survive this move if the other wife ran out of steam. Aiding my thoughts was the fact that Nora was starting to pump and grind back into the other chest despite being stuck in a seated position and having almost no leverage to work with.

Just like that Nora used some of that aerobics work and her natural strength. She let out a burst of energy to push Camille back then deftly roll away and get back to her feet, albeit a bit unsteadily. The French woman cursed under her breath and came right back at my wife, hoping to press her advantage before Nora could begin really fighting back. That wouldn't work as the more experienced fighter grabbed her opponent’s right arm and pulled it up while swinging the her boobs into the outside of the right breast that was set on attacking them.

Seeing this stop Camille in her tracks, Nora went to work swinging in two more shots from the sides before her counterpart returned fire. While having taken more damage, my wife also realized that her loosened breast tissue was at an advantage in this kind of boob boxing and clearly hoped to use her skills and experience to turn the tide fully and regain control of the fight. I have to give Camille credit as, for the second time in the fight, she showed her ability to think quickly and realizing this was a losing strategy she snaked her arms around Nora’s back and applied a bear hug of her own.

Nora mewled again, and Camille confirmed that she had used her shorter nubs like levers to pin down Nora’s bigger ones. I watched as my wife, clearly put off by this tactic, tried everything she could think of to get out of the predicament. She tried raising up on her toes, dipping down with her legs, pulling backwards to break the hug, and pushing forward only to have her opponent stay with her move for move.

Finally, she quickly moved her boobs up and down repeatedly, and let out a sigh of relief as apparently her nipples had escaped the pin. Seeing that Camille wasn't going to let go of the position anytime soon, Nora did what she had to and hoped her superior size and strength would win out by applying her own bear hug around the upper back and arms of the dark haired vixen.

I sat there thinking this would be the final move and that it would end quickly. I was right about one of those things as the dueling bear hug did end the fight. I was wrong about the intestinal fortitude and sheer pride of the combatants allowing it to be over quickly.

Four large breasts fought for limited space between their bodies. The advantage switched back and forth between the women with Camille occasionally getting the nipple pin back in place only to have Nora get out of it and start stabbing deep into the darker flesh with her spearheads. Sweat was dripping off of them their bodies glimmering in the light with milk streaming down their torsos and randomly squirting out to the sides.

I saw the leg of one combatant start to give out, quickly followed by the other one and prepared for that to be the end. Only, it wasn't, as the wilting fighter redoubled her efforts and soon was causing the same weakness to appear from her opponent. This seesaw effect became more pronounced, in favor of both fighters at times, as they each tried to impose their will over the radiating pain in their bosoms.



Unsure of how much the fighters could take, I was almost caught off guard when I heard it.

“Okay, okay, I give. Please let me go.”

“Sorry, but you know that’s not how we do things. You've still got some milk and I’m going to squeeze every drop out of you before I let you go.”

“Do what you have to.”

And she did. The winner, despite not having accepted the loser’s submission, continued grinding the rack that had tried it’s best to flatten hers and leave it dry and empty. It took a few minutes, which seemed like an eternity considering the damage that had already been done, but finally one great pair of boobs was bruised, beaten, and empty.

“Okay, what were you trying to say before?”

“I was saying I give up.”

“I accept. Why are you giving up?”

“Because my boobs can’t take the pain anymore.”

“Anything else?”

“My boobs are useless now, there’s nothing left in them because you milked me like a cow.”

“Why were my magnificent breasts able to do that to yours?”

“Because they’re better than mine and they proved it to everybody here.”

“Okay, let’s go upstairs and give Annabelle a real treat.”



Nora enjoyed the spoils of winning, but kept the taunting to a minimum as she fed the little ones. Once we were back downstairs, she put on a little more of a show when she took the sheer lime green bra that Camille wore and attempted to put it on over her swollen tits.

“Oh, goodness me. How did you ever get your breasts inside this teeny, tiny little bra? My long, thick nipples are almost pushing through the cups and I would need an extension cord to get it to clasp together while it’s stretched out over my big, powerful boobs.”

With that little bit of extra celebration done, Nora walked over and hugged the other woman, taking care to make sure she rubbed her boobs into the pair they had just beaten, and said something to Camille that had her nodding her head and cracking a bit of a smile before she got dressed and left with her husband and little one.

I started to engage in our increasingly creative post fight romp when Nora pushed me away.

“They’re too sore tonight. We’ll celebrate in a day or two.”

“Did she really do that much damage?”

“That’s the most pain I've endured in any fight yet. She’s smart and thinks pretty quickly on her feet. I’m just getting more used to what it takes and my boobs were better than hers.”

“Okay, are you going to tell me what you said when you hugged her before she left?”

“Yeah, I just told her how tough she was and that there’s no shame in losing her first one of these. Also, that she should feel proud of taking control and empowering herself instead of letting her circumstances get her down. Finally, I told her to let me know if they even got home before she and Max got it on.”

As I was searching for what to say next, my wife continued.

“I think I've been making a mistake by feeding Brandon on the day of these fights. I'm pretty sure that Camille hadn't fed Annabelle all day and that's why her breasts were so full. She’s got better boobs than Chantal. I think they all have so far. I’m not ready to take her on again, especially since she’s going to demand that you’re part of the stakes. Megan and Ruth want to go at it again, and there’s some other women I want to feel out to see if they’ll try it, so there’s some options. Maybe a month or so from now, give me time to get over these last two being so close together.”

With that, she headed upstairs and I followed her with a head full of fantasies to get me through the night until her tits healed up enough to let me at them.