Find Story about Brooklyn Decker vs Bar Refaeli

don't have the link but...

2011 AD

A Brooklyn-Bar Fight

Bar Refaeli
Born: June 4, 1985, Hod HaSharon, Israel
Height: 5’ 8.5”
Measurements: 35C-24-35

vs.

Brooklyn Decker
Born: April 12, 1987, Kettering, Ohio, U.S.
Height: 5’ 9”
Measurements: 34D-24-34

That Bar and Brooklyn would eventually come to blows was one of the safer bets anyone involved in the modeling business could make. The two girls were young, hot and ambitious, and that alone made them natural enemies. The fact that they were considered to be among the world’s top models only intensified the rivalry. Both were fiercely proud and competitive and neither girl was content with being “one of the top models.” Each one wanted to be THE top model and each one realized exactly who her biggest competition was.

They had vied for everything, from modeling contracts to magazine covers to seating arrangements at dinner parties. The rivalry had been an intense one, starting from the day the two had first laid eyes on each other on a SI shoot in Israel and culminating with the 2011 race for the coveted SI Swimsuit Issue cover. Each woman wanted that cover and wanted it badly. Getting it was considered the crowning achievement by practically every model worth her salt and Bar and Brooklyn were no exceptions. Each of them already had one of those achievements to her name and each was aware that taking the honors for a second time would go a long way towards solidifying her position at the top of the mountain. At the same time each realized that getting there would be no easy task. Brooklyn might have been the current title holder, the reigning queen, the Alpha bitch and all that, but she knew that this did not mean very much when it came to choosing the next Swimsuit Issue cover. It felt good, of course, being able to look down on all the other models (especially Bar Refaeli) and sneer and snark at them from her pedestal, but she knew that her term was coming to an end and getting another one was anything but guaranteed. She remembered that a year ago it had been Bar who had been the title holder, the reigning queen, the Alpha bitch and all that, and she (along with many others) had thought that she would have no problems snatching the cover for the second time. Yet, in the end, it had been lil’ ol’ Brooklyn Decker emerging with a crown on her head and a smug smile on her pretty face. No, being the current SI cover girl definitely did not guarantee you anything, Brooklyn knew; it did not mean you would stay in power for another year. In fact, out of all the previous swimsuit queens, Christie Brinkley and Elle MacPherson were the only women to get consecutive covers – three each. Paulina Porizkova had two in a row and so had Tyra Banks, if one counted the one she shared with Valeria Mazza in 1996 (and no one counted that one – not even Tyra herself). Every model knew that a shared cover is no cover at all. It was all or nothing for those ruthless, driven beauties.

All or nothing was exactly what Bar and Brooklyn had in mind when they faced each other in a battle to determine just who the dominant force in modeling really was. They had both been in the business long enough to know that the best way to get what you want was to simply eliminate the competition. That’s what Brinkley had done. That’s what MacPherson had done. Porizkowa and Banks too, as well as Kathy Ireland and Daniela Pestova (who also had two covers each, albeit not consecutive ones) and practically every woman who had gotten the Swimsuit Issue cover more than once (with the exception of Cheryl Tiegs). They had all fought for their prize – it was the only way to stay afloat in an ever-changing world that was constantly on the lookout for the “new” and “fresh”; the only way to survive in the glitzy jungle that was the modeling world.

It happened in Hawaii – one of the locations on which some the 2011 SI photo shoots took place. Not wanting to jeopardize their flawless looks in any way before the shoot was done, the two rivals waited until the final day of their stay before they finally got at each other’s throats. It was a long and tense wait for both of them and on several occasions it seemed like they won’t be able to restrain themselves; such was the level of animosity between them. Still, they somehow managed to avoid any hasty actions, which would have undoubtedly landed both of them in some hot water with the powers that be, and at long last with all the shoots done, they could get down to the real business at hand.

Even though the beach seemed like the perfect arena for a battle between two swimsuit models, the fight, when it finally took place, did so not on the sand, but in Brooklyn’s beach cabin, away from prying eyes where they could “settle this by ourselves, woman to woman” as Bar herself put it.

Neither woman was feeling like wasting any time with idle chatter as they squared off, both of them looking grim and determined, both of them aware that things needed to be done and done quickly. This was it. Their best chance to release their bottled up fury on each other and put the issue between them to rest for good. It was time to separate the women from the girls and class from trash. In a few moments, one would emerge victorious from the battle as the ultimate supermodel, a true swimsuit royalty, while the loser would be relegated to the ranks of the handmaidens – just one of many. The stakes could hardly be any higher for either of them and they were both shaking with tension, hearts pounding, mouths dry as they stalked each other silently, each clad only in a skimpy bikini – Bar in pink; Brooklyn in yellow.

Impatient to get this done as quickly as possible, Brooklyn attacked first, lunging at her rival and tackling her. The two sexy blondes hit the floor and rolled around in a tangle, pulling hair,
scratching and biting. Despite being half an inch shorter than her opponent, the more solid-looking Bar was actually the heavier of the two and she seemed to be the stronger as she now managed to work her way on top. Straddling the squirming Decker, Refaeli began hitting her with both hands with angry shouts. Brooklyn groaned under the barrage, bridging up and twisting back and forth in frantic attempts to throw her assailant off.

“Stay down, you bitch!” Bar growled, firing slap after slap into the squirming American’s face with her right hand.

Brooklyn replied by picking up her long legs and repeatedly striking Bar in the back with her knees. Refaeli snarled, bunched her right hand into a fist and was about to smash it into her rival’s face when Brooklyn suddenly reached up and grabbed the Israeli beauty’s full breasts, digging her claws deep into the pliant flesh. Screeching, Bar grasped Brooklyn’s wrists and tried to push her hands away, but to no avail. Refaeli’s opulent bust allowed for an excellent handhold and Decker kept her grip, twisting and pulling her enemy’s precious assets with a vengeance.

“AAAAAAIIIIEEEEEEE! LEGGO! LEGGO! LEGGO!” Bar shrieked, hammering away at the other woman’s head with both fists.

Brooklyn did not let go. Instead, she bucked violently and at the same time yanked Bar’s tits sideways with all her strength, ultimately toppling her over. She then tried to scramble on top of the Israeli woman, but the latter managed to twist her body and kick her attacker away.

The two supermodels got to their feet and stared venomously at each other. Their faces were flushed and both were struggling to catch their breath, but neither appeared the worse for wear, save for Bar’s missing bikini top, which was left on the floor in tatters, not having survived Brooklyn’s fury.
But, if anything, the loss of half of her bikini, only seemed to have increased Refaeli’s determination to fight. Snarling angrily, the topless Israeli beauty charged her foe, both arms swinging. Brooklyn fired a straight right, which landed flush on Bar’s chin and sent her reeling back. As a blinking Refaeli was trying to get her bearings, Decker moved in, arms pumping in and out rhythmically, tiny fists pounding the Israeli’s juicy, jiggling juggs, making them wobble and bounce all over.

“Like that, bitch?” Brooklyn snarled and then buried her right fist deep into Bar’s taut belly.

Bar grunted and bent forward, her blue eyes sick with pain. Grabbing a bunch of her rival’s hair with her left hand, a wrathful Decker now began slapping Refaeli’s face with her right palm. Squealing, Bar fought back by latching onto the American’s ample breasts, repaying in kind the earlier mauling she had received from her rival. Brooklyn screamed in pain and rage and tangled both hands in Bar’s hair, shaking her head back and forth wildly. Hurt but undaunted, the Israeli supermodel continued to assault her foe’s chest with dogged determination. Her strong fingers and manicured fingernails made short work of Brooklyn’s bikini top and pretty soon her claws were sinking into naked flesh, drawing loud shrieks from Decker. Frantic to put an end to the torture, Brooklyn suddenly jerked her leg up, landing a knee somewhere in the region of Bar’s crotch. It was not a perfect hit, but it still was enough to draw a loud yelp of pain from Refaeli and force her to back off.

The women began circling around, both of them shaking and sweating, their bare, glistening breasts rising and falling rapidly with their heavy breathing. They were still as determined to battle it out as ever, though, and now closed in and locked up. Almost immediately, Brooklyn twisted her lithe body to the side, wrapping an arm around her opponent’s neck and at the same time shoving a hip in Bar’s stomach, tossing the Israeli to the floor and going down with her, still keeping the Headlock on.

“You give, bitch? Huh? You give?” Decker asked through clenched teeth cranking up the pressure as she got slightly atop the other model in an attempt to keep her down.

Instead of answering, Bar simply bared her teeth and sank them into Brooklyn’s right breast, which had practically forced its way into her mouth. Brooklyn screamed and rolled away, releasing her foe. Bar tried to rise, but was caught by the hair and dragged down to the floor again. The two beauties wrestled furiously for a while, before Brooklyn was able to wriggle her lissome body into a position behind her foe and trap Bar in a Bearhug. Kicking and cursing, Refaeli struggled to break loose, but was not able to do so.

“I gotcha now, bitch,” Brooklyn panted in her rival’s ear, snuggling close behind Bar, her arms squeezing the Israeli girl’s naked torso, “You’re mine; the cover’s mine! I got it from you last year and I’m doin’ it again now AND I get to kick your sorry ass this time! Face it, Refaeli, I’m better than you!” The American beauty emphasized her words with a few quick, insolent thrusts of her curvy hips right against Bar’s well-rounded backside. Bar howled in both humiliation and fury and writhed like mad in the other woman’s grip, screaming insults and threats at Brooklyn in both English and Hebrew. Then she just screamed in pain as Brooklyn suddenly grabbed two handfuls of naked titflesh and started yanking and twisting around.

Rolling onto her back and dragging the squirming, squealing Israeli on top of her, Brooklyn now tried to wrap her long legs around her foe for a Body Scissors, while still wringing Bar’s boobs. Crazed with pain and desperate to avoid what to her would be a most humiliating defeat at the hands of her American rival, Refaeli suddenly jerked her head back, striking Decker in the face before the latter could lock her ankles and complete the Scissors. Brooklyn cried out in pain and both her grips loosened a bit – just enough for Bar to wriggle free.

Bar was a fraction quicker to rise up than her rival and she pounced on Brooklyn, using both strength and weight to force her to the floor. She then mounted Decker and managed to deliver several good blows to her face. Brooklyn groaned in pain and thrashed around violently, but Bar rode the bucking American beauty well and continued hitting her. Decker eventually did manage to throw her tormentor off, though, even if it took a massive effort on her part and it cost her considerable amounts of energy.

Once free, Brooklyn sprang to her feet and kicked Bar on the body while the latter was trying to get up. Refaeli screamed and rolled over, clutching at her side. Cursing steadily, Brooklyn lashed out with her right foot again, slamming another kick in Bar’s solid torso, making the Israeli girl cry out. Making another attempt to stand up, Bar then took a third kick which landed right on her left breast with a deafening slap, flattening the supple mound against the ribs. She wailed in agony and curled up, nursing her throbbing tit. Brooklyn bared her white teeth and drew one long, sexy leg back for another kick. This time, though, Bar reached out swiftly with both hands and was able to get hold of her opponent’s foot, twisting it sharply to one side and forcing Decker to screech and crash down.

The two rolled on the floor, whaling on each other with wild abandon. Both were hurting and tiring and both were aware of the fact; each was doing her best to overcome her opponent’s resistance quickly as they struggled fiercely, their young, strong bodies locked together in a wriggling, heaving tangle of shapely arms and legs. They fought like that for a lengthy period of time, each giving as good and she got and neither being able to gain the upper hand, the momentum shifting back and forth between them. Snarling, cursing and squealing, they spent all their mutual hatred on one another, both inflicting and taking pain, but still going regardless, each one hell-bent on emerging victorious. For several long moments, it seemed that all they would be able to achieve through their violent struggle would be total exhaustion with both of them straining to their limits only to remain stalemated. They were already beginning to slow down and their breathing was becoming more and more ragged as their bodies tired.
Then, slowly but surely, Brooklyn began to take control of the fight. Refaeli had weight and strength, but Decker was all grit and drive. The American girl seemed to be the slightly better fighter too, able to work her supple frame into more advantageous positions and attack her foe’s most vulnerable areas, hitting, clawing, biting and scissoring the Israeli supermodel’s voluptuous near-naked body with a purpose. It was as much as Bar could do to just survive. Forced to constantly defend against Brooklyn’s fury, Refaeli had little time to think about attacking and steadily gave ground to Decker’s relentless assault. Panting, gasping, the American eventually forced her opponent onto her back and mounted her, hammering away at her head with both hands, her thick, heavy boobs rocking and bouncing all over as she swung with all her might, determined to annihilate her foe.

“Want some more, cunt? Huh? Do you? Or are you ready to give now?” Brooklyn growled, pausing for a moment to catch her breath.

“NO!” Bar shouted, twisting and kicking while grabbing at her rival’s naked tits.

Enraged, Brooklyn instantly resumed her attack with renewed vigor. “GIVE, YOU COCKSUCKIN’ WHORE, GIVE!” The beautiful Ohio native shouted wrathfully, grabbing two handfuls of Bar’s hair and repeatedly slamming the back of her head against the floor. “ GIVE, OR I’LL BUST YOUR FUCKIN’ EMPTY HEAD WIDE OPEN!”

Dazed and scared, Bar realized that she was running out of time and needed to do something fast. In desperation, she reached up with her right hand, her fingers curled into claws, slashing at her tormentor’s eyes, while her left hand mauled one of Brooklyn’s luscious breasts. Decker screeched and flinched, thus shifting her balance and allowing Refaeli to buck her off.

Scrambling to their feet, the women faced each other once again, shaking and sweating. Both were exhausted, but hatred and desire to be the best kept them going. Bar, having spent the latter portion of the fight on the back foot, was the more aggressive of the two, obviously wanting to make up lost ground. Setting her jaw resolutely, she moved in with her fists held up. Brooklyn just smiled as she also put her fists up, welcoming her rival’s challenge.

Within seconds it became apparent that Bar had made a mistake in choosing to engage in fisticuffs with Brooklyn. Down on the floor, she at least had had her strength to counter Brooklyn’s skill. Up on their feet, strength was out of the equation and she was in trouble. Fighting upright, Decker’s was clearly in her element, her lissome body moving swiftly about with smooth elegance, her hands, both quick and accurate, landing bang on target, beating her opponent back. Not one to give up easily, Bar kept up her attacks, but their ineffectiveness was becoming more and more obvious with each passing second. She could not match Brooklyn in trading blows; the American was simply supreme at long range. Peppered from all sides, Refaeli was forced to retreat in disarray. She looked in total shambles now, frazzled, sucking air with audible gasps, her erstwhile resolutely-set jaw now slack and throbbing from Brooklyn’s punches. Brooklyn by contrast was upbeat and confident, eyes sparkling as she took in the sight of Bar Refaeli looking all ragged and wobbly.

“You can quit any time you wanna.” The Ohio native informed her rival matter-of-factly. “All you have to do is get down on your knees, kiss my ass and admit I’m the better woman and I’ll let you crawl back into whatever hole you crawled out of.”
Practically slavering with rage, Bar charged her foe, both arms swinging wildly. Calmly, Brooklyn fired a straight left, then a right. Both punches landed on the point of Bar’s chin and sent her reeling back. Refaeli managed to regain her footing and tried to close in again, but again could find no way through Decker’s flying fists. Precise, purposeful and malicious Brooklyn pounded Bar at will, reducing the Israeli model’s solid, strong body to a limp heap of quivering flesh. Face, belly, breasts – they all got hammered and hammered hard. Bleating in pain and protest, the battered Refaeli sank to her knees, her legs finally giving way after a series of blows to her belly.

“Good, that’s step one!” Brooklyn said breezily. “Step two is, like I said, kissin’ my ass!” There was a smug little smile on her face now as she stood tall, looking down on her kneeling foe. Her bountiful boobs heaved majestically, nipples fully erect and pointing up proudly. She felt top of the world. She was doing it. She was beating her archrival and they both knew it. They both knew who the number one supermodel was.

Refaeli’s sudden charge was as unexpected as it was explosive. Mad with frustration, unable to bear the thought of losing to Brooklyn, the Israeli beauty launched herself off the floor, putting all of her remaining energy into one mighty burst of strength from her powerful legs. As she rose up, the top of her head struck Brooklyn in the stomach, doubling her up. Continuing her momentum, Bar wrapped her arms around her opponent and pushed forward with an angry scream, forcing Brooklyn backwards and slamming her into the wall. The impact dazed the American somewhat and left her wide open for a series of rapid punches from the enraged Refaeli. Groaning as Bar’s fists pounded her body, Brooklyn tried to cover up with her arms. Bar quickly snatched two handfuls of her opponent’s blonde locks and started bashing the back of Decker’s head against the wall, further stunning the Ohio native. Suddenly feeling overwhelmed and in danger of losing the fight, Brooklyn grabbed Bar’s wrists in an attempt to put a stop to the attack, but with little effect. The Israeli beauty was beside herself with fury and continued shaking her foe back and forth, snarling and screaming as she banged Brooklyn’s head against the wall. Desperate to fend off Refaeli’s rage, Decker now reached down with her right hand and her claws sank into the Israeli’s crotch like steel hooks. Bar howled in agony, frantically beating Brooklyn about the head with both fists. A rather haphazard blow to the side of her jaw rattled Decker and she lost her grip. Knowing that this was her chance, Bar instantly tore into her foe again, firing a furious barrage of blows into the American’s belly and chest. Shocked and confused, Brooklyn mewled pitifully as her precious juggs were maltreated. She tried to protect the wobbling mounds with her hands, only to have her belly pounded into mush by Refaeli’s fists. Whimpering, she tried to somehow recede into the wall – a gasping, drooling blonde wreck, teetering on the verge of defeat. It was only a matter of time now, it seemed.

“NO!” Brooklyn screamed suddenly. Hurt and exhausted as she was, she would not quit. She would beat Refaeli. She did not know how, she only knew she would do it. There was no way she was losing to this bitch! No fuckin’ way!

Pride and fury swelling inside her, fuelling up her tired, aching body Decker drove forward, using the wall behind her as a launch pad to give herself extra momentum. She slammed into Bar with an angry scream driving her back and ultimately bowling her over. As the two women went down, it looked like Bar was going to fall on her back with Brooklyn on top of her, but at the last moment the Israeli somehow managed to twist in midair and they both landed on their sides.

They hit the floor hard, the impact knocking the breath out of their already spent bodies. Despite that, they both began pushing themselves up almost immediately. Shuddering violently with tension and fatigue they struggled to their knees, each one aware that at this late stage of the battle and in their exhausted state, the ability to rise above the opponent would surely make the difference between losing and winning. And they wanted to win, both of them. At any cost.

They didn’t try to stand up; they just didn’t have the strength to do it. Battered and fatigued, pushed to the very edge by the grueling combat, the two warring women collided on their knees, locking their hands together. This was to be their final clash, they both knew it. They were too worn out to continue this for much longer; they had to end it now. There was nothing elaborate, nothing skillful about this final showdown. Depleted both physically and mentally, they just leaned into each other, arms held up and to the sides, fingers intertwined. Each woman had tried everything they could to outmaneuver and outfight the other and had failed. Each woman had taken everything her rival had hit her with and come back for more. Now it had come to this, the most simple, basic of contests, a test of strength – raw power to raw power, body to body, woman to woman with the winner to take all.

Panting, gasping and grunting through gnashed teeth the sexy combatants exerted all their remaining energy. Sweat, effort and hatred poured out of the two shapely, glistening bodies as they pressed tightly together, pushing against each other, shaking with tension, every muscle, every fiber straining to the very limit in a titanic effort to overcome the other. The intensity of the struggle was maddening; both women were insane with fury and fear, fear of failure, fear of defeat and humiliation. Their eyes wild, their teeth bared, the battling beauties channeled their last reserves into a last, muscle-tearing, tendon-snapping effort, both issuing forth deep, long groans, which seemed to come not from their throats, but from much deeper within: from their very souls. Their entire beings were now fighting a desperate, all-out war, a war that would result in utter destruction for the losing side.

The end began as a series of slight quivers in one woman’s legs, which travelled up her shapely frame, through her belly, torso and then her arms. The signs were almost imperceptible, but they were there; her energy was waning. Desperately, she tried to compensate, to will some more strength into her body, which was now starting to lean backwards under the steady pressure put on by her foe. She couldn’t do it. She had nothing more left in reserve and was fading fast, the brutal marathon battle having taken its toll on her.

Sensing the weakness in her opponent, Bar bellowed in savage triumph, the realization that she was winning giving her new strength, invigorating her tired, aching body. Gritting her teeth, the Israeli forced her American rival’s trembling arms back, bending her wrists painfully. Brooklyn groaned, her eyes suddenly full of despair as she tried in vain to fight back against the other woman’s overwhelming strength. Wrenching her hands free of Brooklyn’s, Bar now wrapped her arms around the taller blonde’s torso, pressing on her advantage. Brooklyn gasped in pain, her back arching and her head hanging backwards listlessly. Realizing that she was losing, she desperately attempted to rally, but she just had no answer for Refaeli’s drive. The Israeli’s more solid frame had fared better through the grueling fight, having coped with the strain and abuse more successfully than the American’s willowy body and now simply had more strength left. In the end that’s what it had boiled down to: Bar was stronger than Brooklyn. It was that simple. Bar was going to win the fight and both women knew it.

Pushing forcefully into her opponent, Bar mashed her slick chest against Brooklyn’s with purpose. Refaeli’s thrusting C-cups pushed into Decker’s D’s, the two superb sets of breasts engaging into a combat of their own, heaving and thrusting, stiff nipples stabbing pliant flesh as each pair tried to crush the other. Within moments, the difference became apparent as Bar’s tits steadily forced Brooklyn’s back, overwhelming them. Her prized assets, the main source of her pride being crushed by the opposing pair, the Ohio native let out a loud wail of both shame and fury. Her pretty face bearing a look of pain, shock and horror, she attempted to rally, but it was no good. She may have had the size, but her foe had the firmness. Squashed and pinned, Brooklyn’s boobs mushroomed out helplessly beneath Bar’s thrusting tits. Refaeli’s rock-hard nipples speared and bent Decker’s overmatched nips, shoving them back deep into the flattened flesh of her breasts.

“YES!” Bar roared proudly as her breasts conquered her archrival’s, putting an end to an age-long dispute. She smiled with malicious glee while she squeezed mightily with her arms and wiggled her torso around, pulverizing Brooklyn’s juggs with her own.

A small, choked sob escaped the American beauty’s trembling lips as she realized it was over, that she could not match her rival in the area that perhaps mattered most to both of them. The truth was painfully obvious, proven beyond any doubt now. The Israeli’s breasts were the stronger, better breasts. The Israeli was the stronger, better woman.

The crushing defeat of her much vaunted boobs seemed to have drained the last of Brooklyn’s strength and will to fight and she crumbled before Bar’s steady charge. Forcing Brooklyn even further back, Bar now had leverage and weight on her side. Grunting in effort, she pushed forward, toppling Brooklyn over onto her back and got on top of her. Shifting quickly, she Scissored her opponent’s torso between her solid, powerful thighs, trapping Decker’s arms at her sides.

“No… no… no…” Brooklyn moaned, her eyes wide and panicky as she struggled to free herself, but couldn’t. Her toned muscles rippled under her tanned skin with zero effect. Her lithe, fit body was failing her, completely overwhelmed by the superior strength of Bar’ sturdy collection of curves and muscle . “Nooo-ohh!” she mewled, the word trailing into a groan on pain as Refaeli’s sculpted thighs unleashed their awesome power on her captured midsection. Soon, the Ohio-born beauty was whimpering constantly, her erstwhile feral growls of anger and effort turning into soft cries of distress, her long legs flailing helplessly.

“YEEEEEESS!” Bar half-bellowed, half-groaned, her blue eyes shining brightly in jubilation as she felt her foe’s once hard abs giving way and Brooklyn’s soft, vulnerable innards wriggling helplessly against the inside of her thigh. Baring her teeth, the lovely Israeli wrapped her glistening arms around her rival’s head, her mighty, sweat-slick breasts swallowing the American beauty’s reddened face completely. Denied precious air, Brooklyn thrashed around, her legs kicking wildly as her lissome, bronzed body heaved and twisted futilely in the fleshy trap of Bar’s sturdy frame.

Unexpectedly, Bar shifted her position, getting fully on top of Brooklyn and tangling her legs with the American’s. She still kept the Smother in place and now kicked out mightily, forcing Decker’s legs out wide with a perfect Grapevine. The added pain and humiliation spurred Brooklyn on and she struggled like mad beneath her opponent, but her efforts were feeble; she did not have any strength left and was utterly helpless against Bar, who was now dominating her completely.

This was it. Her trapped body spent, the American supermodel quickly wilted and soon was no longer struggling, but just lay there, her enfeebled limbs twitching as the Israeli smothered her with her naked, sweaty breasts.
Gasping and shaking, Bar released her practically limp rival and climbed on top of her, pinning her arms to the sides with her knees. Then she just slapped Brooklyn silly. Decker tried to struggle for a while, but there was nothing she could do now. Her arms were pinned and useless and her legs felt like they were filled with lead; she could not even pick them up off the floor to try and kick. Bar just continued to blister her foe’s unprotected face with good, hefty slaps, eyes burning, focused, solid arms swinging mightily, luscious tits rocking and swaying violently. In addition, she taunted the pinned blonde, ceaselessly hurling insult after insult at her an demanding that she submits. The younger woman stoically held out at first, screaming some choice word and threats of her own at Bar, but she was utterly helpless and exposed and Refaeli’s fury showed no signs of abating. Eventually, the tall Ohio babe broke down, submitting to her rival, begging out.

Grinning broadly in triumph, Bar kept on taunting her defeated opponent, once again leaning forward and pinning Brooklyn’s arms above her head, stretching her out. She then added more insult by shaking her torso from side to side, repeatedly slapping Brooklyn’s face with her naked breasts and rubbing the two juicy, sweat-soaked orbs all over Decker’s beautiful features – the ultimate humiliation for the buxom American babe. Badly beaten and demoralized, Brooklyn could only whimper and beg beneath her tormentor hoping against hope that her ordeal would be over soon.

“Who’s the winner, bitch?” Bar asked, as she now sat up and secured her victim by pinning her arms with her knees.

Brooklyn was a little slow to reply and Bar began bouncing up and down on her chest, slamming her firm, well-rounded ass down on Decker’s flattened breasts again and again, driving the air out of her lungs.

“OK! OK! You are!” Brooklyn wheezed. “You win!”

“Who has the better body?” Came the next question.

“You do!” The answer was a lot quicker this time. Brooklyn knew what was required from her right now and she delivered. She had no choice; she just could not take any more punishment.

“Whose tits are better?” Bar’s thirst for knowledge seemed insatiable – as did her desire to humiliate her defeated rival – juand with good reason. She had waited for this moment for a long time and she had fought hard to make it happen and now that it had, she intended to make the most of it.

“Y-yours!” Decker stammered. “Yours are better!” And she was not just saying that. As much as it pained her, she had to face the fact. The bitch really did have the better tits. It had been proven beyond any doubt just moments ago.
“So, who’s the better woman?” Bar accompanied the question with another bounce, her ass landing hard on Brooklyn’s chest, forcing another whoosh of air from the pinned American.

“Ungh! Alright! Alright! You’re better! You’re the better woman!” Brooklyn acknowledged in a low, trembling voice.

Bar smiled contentedly, then slid back and adjusted her position, shoving her gleaming, bare breasts right in Brooklyn’s face.

“Lick!” Refaeli commanded in a tone that brooked no argument.

Beaten and broken, Decker dared not disobey and meekly licked the Israeli beauty’s conquering tits, running her tongue all over the deep, sweat-lined cleavage, bringing another gleeful smile on Bar’s face.

Dragging her heavy boobs across her rival’s face one last time, Refaeli got up. She was virtually aglow with triumph as she placed one foot on the chest of her defeated foe and looked down at her. The Israeli’s steely blue eyes drilled deep into Decker’s tearful, dejected ones, then Bar slowly raised her arms high in the air to flaunt her magnificent body in all its glory and said:

“Take a good look, little girl! This is what a real woman and supermodel looks like! And in case you ever forget, just take a look at the cover of the next SI Swimsuit Issue. I’ll send you one when it’s out. Who knows, maybe I’ll even autograph it for you; give you something to aspire to – something you’ll never be!” Bar smiled again, but only for a second. She looked dead serious when she delivered her final message to her vanquished rival, her foot still planted firmly on the supine American woman’s chest: “Know your place, zonah!”

Message delivered – and clearly received – Bar took her foot off of Brooklyn, then spat hatefully on her and walked out into the warm night, not forgetting to gather the two torn bikini tops – hers and Decker’s – from the floor. She was tired and aching all over, but satisfied in the knowledge that she had just won it all; the fight, the cover, the future – they all belonged to her – as did Brooklyn Decker.
15 Feb 2011