Hellcats -Without the *** (I hope!)

Hellcats – M. Petri

Giselle Alexander loveless marriage to her husband Clem had one thing in it for the sultry redhead: gold. The handsome young farmer had bought his land from one of the scions of the town who had promised him there was Civil War gold buried somewhere on the premises, and Clem had managed to hire on workers and partners on the strength of that dangling, undiscovered treasure, all while luring one of the most beautiful women in town as his wife. Giselle had been happy at first to get out of the gossipy town—the “city” as many called it, although it never loomed that large. Clem was kind enough and a good-looking man, although too foolish and fumbling to really do the redhead any good in bed. He’d gotten angry and mouthy with her as she’d begun to withdraw her charms and wander about at night rather than share the heat of their small bedroom…but he’d never raised his hand to her, and Giselle found good distraction in all the other fine young men Clem hired to work around the farm.

The Alabama acreage was mild in the winter but punishingly hot in the summer, and this particular summer seemed to be the worst one yet. But it gave the bored, curvy redheaded beauty at least one daily activity to manage her restlessness.

As the summer wore on Giselle took to wearing her slip all day, the little satin garment still damp from dusk to dawn from the coat of sweat that never seemed to leave the redhead’s body. The slip barely extended below her lush hips, leaving her legs bare and on display all day, to say nothing of the way the daringly low cut of it made a show of the two best breasts in the county. Giselle spent her days driving the farmhands and her hapless husband wild as she served them water, bending low to dangle her twin bounty as the two creamy globes, crammed together tightly at the center of that generous ‘V’ that cut across her chest, glistened with droplets of sweat or water she managed to spill down her quivering glands while she wiggled her way across the yard and fields. When she left her husband and those other men gaping in her wake she got a feeling of power and control she’d never really felt before in her life, and that at least made the hot summer days seem to fly by a little quicker.

There was only one woman in town who could match Giselle’s charms and that was Lyla Clanton, the town tramp and, as she never stopped reminding Giselle, the woman whose father had sold Clem the land and who, she insisted quietly, was the only one alive who knew where the buried gold was. Lyla knew how to tease and show off what God gave her like no one else in town apart from Giselle herself, and the two beauties had hated one another with a vicious intensity since high school.

As much as Giselle enjoyed torturing Clem by denying the man her charms, it got her blood up like nothing else to see Lyla chatting the farmer up every time they went into town. It wouldn’t do to thrash the sultry blonde in public but Giselle still remembered the one time she and Lyla had tussled in 12th grade, back when the two of them were skinny high school girls. She had an itch to go after Lyla again now that both of them had filled out, and she had hungrily watched the blonde strut her way around town in her tight summer dresses and stewed as she saw Lyla kneeling down to pick up a handkerchief Clem had dropped in front of the bank one day, giving Clem a full view of her bulging trophies as they practically spilled out of her lowcut dress.

One time she had calculated a way to run into the other woman on the way out of church, both of them dressed just a hair more modestly but still showing off what they had. If anything Giselle looked forward to the devious art of outshining Lyla’s body in the pews as each woman seemed to find more subtle and insidious methods of displaying gams, bare arms and heaving bustlines, all while looking virtuous in front of the rest of the townspeople. Giselle had followed Lyla as the congregation was filing out of the center of the church, getting a good view of the blonde’s heart-shaped behind as it bulged, thrust and wiggled its way under the tight fabric of Lyla’s church dress, her green eyes eating up the other woman’s muscular fanny as she gauged its splendor against her own.

As the crowd emerged into the sun Lyla’s hat briefly blew off and the blonde bent to pick it up, giving Giselle an obscene view of her thighs spreading within the tightly stretched skirt of the formal dress, and Giselle managed to maneuver into the blonde’s path as Lyla straightened and turned so the two busty women collided in a brief but sensual confrontation of bulging flesh.

Giselle secretly thrust her chest and pelvis forward as her body sought out the matching curves on Lyla and both women let out a grunt of surprise that warped into a kind of muffled, excited squeal as each felt the hot contact of the other’s body and the instant flush of excitement it produced.

“Why Lyla Clanton!” Giselle panted as she twisted away from her enemy’s chest, faking an exasperated laugh as she almost kicked at the blonde’s bare legs that had briefly tangled with her own. “Whyever don’t you watch where you’re going in that sundress!”

The blonde’s deep blue eyes sparkled in a mix of excitement and hate as she responded. “I beg your pardon, Miss Giselle, but if you had eyes in your head you’d have seen me stopping here…”

“If you’d had a brain in your head you wouldn’t stop short with the whole congregation on the way out the door here!” Giselle snapped, still freezing her features into an insincere smile. The two women had moved off to the side while Clem and the rest of the churchgoers filed past and Giselle saw Lyla shoot a glance at Clem before turning back to Giselle to speak in a lowered voice.

“Well the way you ran into me I could almost think you wanted to, honey,” she almost whispered. “Of course it must be hard for you to stop with those two summer watermelons leading the way…”

Giselle’s smile twisted cruelly, her eyes sparkling through the heavy mascara she was wearing as she glanced down at the blonde’s bronzed chest still bulging rudely from her church dress. “Well honestly I’m surprised your two pride and joys didn’t come popping out of that dress the way they’re out and about this morning,” she sneered.

“You’ve put on weight since school,” Lyla said, feigning sympathy. “My Lord, I thought I’d be crushed when y’all came at me like that…”

“Oh not to worry, Lyla dear, you had all the weight you needed in that big fanny of yours to stop me…”

“Well that’s a conversation for another time, isn’t it?” the blonde said, her voice dropping even lower. “It’s not fit to talk so near the church about what I’d like to do to your big behind and those hot and heavy nothings you’re showing off…”

Giselle’s sneer turned even crueler as she moved nearer to the blonde, her own voice dropping to match Lyla’s. “I suppose they’re not nothings if you find them so hot and heavy compared to those sunburnt cupcakes you’re so proud of,” she said huskily. “And if you’d like to find a time and place to discuss what I’d like to do to—”

Just as she was prepared to level a more graphic threat to the blonde Clem arrived, his discomfort at the view of his faithless wife and the town tease highly visible. “Giselle, I’ve got something to discuss with Lyla,” he said stiffly.

“Oh you do?” Giselle snapped hotly, glaring furiously at the blonde.

“It’s of interest to us both but I need a moment with her in private if you don’t mind.”

Giselle stole a quick look at the blonde’s smug face. She had an idea what this was about but it still infuriated her to leave Clem with her worst enemy.

“I’ll be waiting at home,” she growled. “Don’t be long!”

Giselle stewed a full 30 minutes in her kitchen before Clem slunk back into the farmhouse, raising his hand to stop her before she let go with a broadside about him making time with that “big city” hussy.

“Lyla knows where it’s buried, Giselle,” the young farmer explained. “She’s known all along. But listen, it’s going to take some heavy equipment to get at it if we’re going to get it all. So me and the boys are heading to Huntsville and we’ll be back in the morning to dig it up. Now Giselle,” he lowered his voice, “Lyla’s gonna stay here tonight so you’re not out here by yourself.”

“What?” the redhead demanded. She shot a look outside and sure enough, Lyla Clanton was sunning herself in a short summer dress, those golden boobs of hers gleaming in the hot sun. “You’re leaving me alone with her?”

“Look, it’s taken me years to sound her out about this,” Clem explained as Giselle felt her cheeks beginning to burn with anger. “I don’t want her in town right now spouting off about it and I don’t want to leave you here alone.”

“I don’t want her here,” Giselle snarled, glaring out the kitchen window toward where the curvy blonde stood.

“She’ll be gone in the morning and we’ll have money by the end of the day,” Clem said quietly. “Then maybe you and I can reach a better understanding.”

“You leave me alone with her and I’ll never let you touch me again.” The threat hung in the hot kitchen air for a few seconds and Giselle saw her husband glance out the window for a moment. For the first time she felt a real sense of fear. She’d seen Lyla Clanton cross her husband’s path more than once and now maybe the blonde tramp looked like a lifeline for a husband who hadn’t gotten any in a year and a half.

Clem turned back to look at Giselle with something like pity before his expression softened back to the same weak neutrality that the redhead saw day after day.

“You’ll feel different in a few days,” he said. “Besides, Lyla will sleep in the guest room downstairs and you won’t have to even set eyes on her.” With that the young farmer turned his back on her and walked out of the house, leaving Giselle to stew by her lonesome in the old farmhouse while the work noises outside gradually subsided, interrupted once or twice by the maddening laughter of Lyla Clanton as she engaged Clem or one of the other farmhands while Giselle sulked.

Within the hour all the men were gone and Giselle skulked inside the house, opening a few windows to try to air out the stifling summer air and catching glimpses of Lyla Clanton stalking around outside. She thought about locking the other woman out but knew she’d catch hell for it once Clem returned, and now there was that shiny pile of buried gold to think about, as a cold reality now instead of just some pipe dream.

Giselle busied herself as the afternoon wore on, then paused as she heard the sound well water being pumped outside. She peeked out the kitchen window to see Lyla hauling buckets of water over to the old tub at the corner of the house, tossing some powdered soap into the water and then beginning to undo the back of her tight summer dress.

Giselle stared at the blonde’s supple curves as the blonde’s dress slipped off her back and then her bare behind, giving the redhead a quick, shocking glimpse of her nakedness before she slipped into the tub for a good soak. Giselle fumed silently, her head spinning with the day’s distractions and now this. The brief look at the town tramp’s naked body had been a shock, but it somehow satisfied a long-secret curiosity the redhead had held about Lyla. Of course she had not kept much about what God gave her secret with the way she dressed but Giselle had to admit to being impressed by the brief look she’d gotten of the other young woman’s figure, and it only seemed to reinforce the way Giselle’s desires had been held hostage to her husband’s neglect and sheer dullness, all of which had kept Giselle Alexander cooped up, bored and frustrated for a year and a half now even as she knew that half the men in town would have jumped at the chance to lie down with her for just a few seconds. No doubt Lyla Clanton wasn’t wasting her beauty as she prowled the streets of town night after night, Giselle though bitterly. With that body she could have any man she wanted, as often as she wanted. Oh well, she thought. Go to bed early and by morning that little whore would be gone.

Giselle tossed and turned long into what was quickly becoming the hottest summer night of the year. The presence of Lyla in her house, the eerie quiet caused by the absence of Clem and the farmhands, the oppressive humidity and the long months without the touch of another human being on her skin were taking their toll and the sultry redhead squirmed slowly, hour after hour in her bed as her satin slip more and more became a suffocating straightjacket. She found herself slowly pawing her own bulging breasts, wiping sweat off the two throbbing, tingling glands, gliding her bare inner thighs across one another and even squeezing her burning nether regions as if to crush the desire out of them, at least for the rest of this one night so she could sleep at last. But as the hours turned into early morning she found herself nowhere nearer to dozing off and she finally stood off the bed and eyed herself in the bedroom’s standing mirror, her body visible in the moonlight.

For a long moment she exulted in the raw, voluptuous beauty in front of her and the power she held over the men on the farm and the town. It was not surprise to her that the body reflected in that mirror drove Clem to near madness with lust and his farmhands to bitter jealousy and distraction. From her supple, well-muscled thighs and calves to her womanly hips, slender wasp waist and the two abundant endowments crushed together by her straining slip, that glamourous head of red hair and the delicate features she kept so carefully hidden from the sun, Giselle had no equal…at least not in this room.

The ginger-haired vixen once again slowly gripped her breasts, as if she would wring the sweat and pent-up lust out of them once and for all, but they remained two hot, weighty anchors on her chest, making it impossible for her to find any comfortable position to sleep in and seeming to exude more itching, teasing sweat than any other part of her body.

Giselle had to get some relief and she began to feel her way out of the bedroom, down the stairs and out onto the porch toward the farmhouse’s single well. The moon was impossibly bright, leading her easily to the well pump and spigot, and the redhead grabbed the handle and began to pump for a full minute until the first warm gush of water finally turned cool. Giselle grabbed the well cup and drank as if she’d just walked out of an endless desert, gulping the cold water with a desperate thirst. Then she splashed the bracing liquid on her face and arms and finally dashed a full cup across her chest, washing the beaded sweat from her cleavage and feeling the water soak the top of her slip. Her nipples, already aroused from the mixture of irritation and frustrated lust that had kept her up all night, tingled and hardened even further from the freezing touch of the well water and for a few seconds Giselle felt a quiet relief and comfort.

Then she heard Lyla’s voice.

“Spare a little bit of that well water why don’t you, Miss Giselle,” the blonde spoke in the same low purr she’d used outside the church, as if pitching her voice so only she and Giselle could hear—even though there was no one around for a good half mile to overhear them.

Giselle spun, leaning back against the well as her soaked, cream-colored cleavage caught the moonlight and her hands gripped the rim of the well as if she might guard it from an invader. Lyla stood on the porch steps a few yards away in her own immodest slip, her tawny legs bared and her sun-bronzed breasts gleaming like golden apples against the pale white of the nightgown material straining to contain them. The blonde’s sultry face, her bare arms and the imposing hemispheres of her half-exposed breasts were as wet and glistening as Giselle’s, but with a warm coating of sweat rather than cool well water.

“You’re not the only one who could use a cold drink and some cold water on her skin tonight,” Lyla continued. “Maybe a hothouse flower like you likes a long night covered in sweat but the sooner I wash the stink of this farmhouse off me the better I’ll feel.”

Giselle’s damp, glistening chest rose and fell in the night air as she measured her response, a keen, ugly sense of ownership causing her to dig her nails into the side of the well as if the blonde was threatening to steal it and the farmhouse out from under her.

“Why don’t you drink that lukewarm bathwater you were soaking in this morning then,” the redhead growled, her eyes raking up and down over the blonde’s curves as Lyla flaunted her body in a slip as tight as Giselle’s. “Maybe it’s something you haven’t paid attention to but strictly between us two girls, the bigger the chest, the hotter and sweatier things get, and I am not finished here cooling down my two pride and joys for your information…”

Lyla stepped down off the porch, her own eyes raking up and down Giselle’s body as her gorgeous mouth twisted into a sneer. “Oh I’m well aware of how hot two big breasts can get in the middle of the night, Miss Giselle, having had larger ones than yours since I was in eighth grade,” she said. “Mine have been pounding and soaking this slip for three hours now and I’ll thank you to step aside so I can put some cool water on them.”

“This is my house and my well,” Giselle growled. “I haven’t a care how much sweat your two sun-kissed peaches can produce when mine have been weighing me down and soaking themselves since dusk. If your cheap bosom could measure up to mine you’d know just how much a real woman’s breasts can sweat and exactly why I’ll take precedence over any need your little treasures have for cooling water right now.”

“Those creamy cupcakes you love to show off don’t have the weight and mass of mine and the both of us know it, and have known it quite a long time,” Lyla declared. “My Lord, you sure as hell felt it when you rammed that body of yours into mine outside church last weekend!”

“As a matter of fact I did get a good cheap feel of your body that day and only confirmed what I knew all along which is that your curves are outclassed by mine!” Giselle snapped, her damp chest rising and falling faster now as the nocturnal conversation heated up. “I’ll thank you to go back inside and nurse your chest sweat your own way because I plan to pump this well dry before I give a drop to cool those twins of yours.”

“I’ll be damned if I take your leave before I cool down what God gave me,” Lyla growled. She had stepped close enough to Giselle and the well now that the redhead could feel the damp heat roiling off the other woman’s body. “And I’ll tell you another thing—feeling your sisters pushing up against mine under that church dress on Sunday only reminded me how much more I’ve got up top than you’ve ever had. I’ve produced more sweat off these two mommas tonight than you ever will and I’m telling you right now I want that well water on them tonight.”

“I could soak your naked body with the sweat these two honeys of mine have spilled tonight you cheap blonde trash,” Giselle croaked, her voice breaking with hatred as she stepped forward until her soaking chest lined up with Lyla’s. “I’ve been wringing the sweat off them all night and I’ll be damned if I give yours one drop of my well water…”

“I could fill a tub with the sweat off my sugar tits from this one night, Giselle,” Lyla bragged, “…and soak your bare body with it until sunup!”

“I could wring the sweat off mine and soak you to the bone,” Giselle snarled hotly, her body shaking with fury and a strange excitement, as if she felt hidden eyes watching the two furious women from the surrounding night.

“Why didn’t you do it then?” Lyla demanded. “Come into the guest room while I was lying there and drip that hot sweat all over me right off those soaking bra busters of yours?”

“I’m surprised you didn’t do likewise,” Giselle sneered into Lyla’s face. “Sneak into my bedroom and wring the sweat off those golden knockers so it spilled all over mine!”

“You think you’ll make me drink the sweat off your big titties before you let me drink your precious well water?” Lyla snarled, her hot, slick forehead smearing now against Giselle’s.

“I’m sure a whore like you would take the whole long night to lick the sweat off my puppies drop by drop,” Giselle growled. “Lord knows it would take you longer to lick mine dry than it would for me to lap the drops off your weak little heat bumps…”

The big redhead panted now against the blonde’s face, breathing in the other woman’s warm, damp breath as Lyla too breathed hard up against her, now finally pressing forward until her generous, sweat-drenched, golden cleavage bulged up against the moonlit cream of Giselle’s décolletage.

“You’re not keeping that cool water to yourself you ginger whore,” Lyla half-gasped against Giselle’s face. “If I have to smear if off your trashy tits one drop at a time,” she growled slowly, provocatively pressing first her big left breast, then her right so that the two shockingly firm glands caressed and dragged across the front of Giselle’s throbbing bustline, bulging the redhead’s porcelain breast flesh upward into moonlike globes gleaming in the sultry nocturnal light.

Giselle felt herself responding, eagerly urging her own breasts back against the blonde’s until she felt the hot, wet touch of Lyla’s surging, exposed cleavage touching and sliding against her own chilled, goosebumped breast flesh.

Lyla shivered, moaning as Giselle’s cool, soaking breasts applied their chilly contours to the blonde’s hot sweat. “That’s the only way you’re getting my well water,” Giselle moaned. “Lick it off…smear it off me and beg me for it…”

“I’ll lick your tits the day you eat the sweat off my hot melons, you cheap ginger trash,” Lyla hissed, her hot breath kissing Giselle’s face.

“You little dyed hussy,” Giselle panted as her eyes bored into Lyla’s. Now all the long days and nights without the touch of anything but the leering eyes of men on her body were gathering up and Giselle could feel herself losing control of what little was left of her sanity. The exchange of taunts and promises had set her blood to boil and she could hear the same naked lust in Lyla’s voice.
When she thought about Lyla she thought about the town tramp, getting it from everyone in every way night after night…but she could hear the empty longing in the other woman’s voice and she wondered now if the blonde experienced the same frustration and pent-up, womanly arousal that haunted Giselle night after night.

She reached behind her blindly and took the metal pump handle in one hand, moving it until she could draw a handful of water while Lyla’s heaving chest pressed hotly against hers. She glared silently at the blonde as she smeared the cool water over her lips and across her bulging cleavage, taking extra care not to leave a drop on the blonde’s hot flesh.

“Lick it off me because that’s the only cool water you’ll get tonight,” she whispered, her voice a raw husk.

“You big, bitter bitch,” Lyla replied, her voice equally hoarse with arousal. “I’ll show you what using my mouth on you means to me.” The blonde bared her teeth, her tongue darting behind them, glistening in the moonlight as she pressed forward, her lower jaw jutting forward in a vicious sneer until it pressed against Giselle’s, the two women glaring down their noses at one another for a moment until Lyla brazenly licked the cool well water off of Giselle’s panting mouth and chin. Giselle shuddered at the wet touch of Lyla’s tongue, a cold chill that had nothing to do with the well water settling over her flesh.

As much as she had dared Lyla to do it, as much as the thought of the blonde licking the water off her excited some depraved, buried part of her, Giselle hadn’t expected the blonde to take the bait. Never had another woman touched Giselle like this—never had she felt the hot slickness of another woman’s tongue, let alone a woman she hated as much as Lyla. Blood seemed to pound in Giselle’s ears, deafening her until she felt almost dizzy. Then she felt the sharp bite of Lyla’s teeth on her chin as the blonde added a bitter punctuation to the unexpected lick.

“You cheap gutter trash,” the redhead snarled, grabbing a handful of Lyla’s blonde hair and yanking it until the other woman bared her teeth in a snarl of pain. Both women’s ragged breathing quickened even more as Giselle felt Lyla’s fingers dig into her waist, pulling the two women closer. “Lick the rest,” Giselle whispered. “Finish what you started you little whore.”

As if to reinforce the command, Giselle yanked the blonde’s hair again, tugging her face forward. Lyla didn’t need much reinforcement. She bent and soon her tongue was lapping at the cold beads of water on Giselle’s heaving cleavage. But for every hot lick the other woman twisted her teeth into the redhead’s soft, silky-skinned breast flesh and bit, leaving angry, wicked little marks as she lapped up the cool beads of well water ravenously.

“God damn you,” Giselle moaned as she absorbed this strange, torturous blend of pleasure and pain, her head swimming as she pondered who was being humiliated and who was doing the humiliating. She winced and hissed at the fierce little bites, a sensation even her husband had never dared visit upon those two perfect, creamy globes.

Lyla’s body pinned her against the edge of the well, her thighs smearing their sweat onto Giselle’s, her belly warm and the secret, hidden flesh at the center of her pelvis burning with a fire far hotter than the sweat warming the rest of her body. The blonde was far stronger than Giselle had ever imagined, yet she found herself forcing groans of pain from her adversary as she bent Lyla’s neck, twisting the other young woman’s damp blonde locks into her fingers.

After long, endless moments of raw licking it seemed that every cool drop of liquid had been scoured from the redhead’s décolletage, and Lyla raised her head from between Giselle’s heavy breasts and once again pressed nose to nose, forehead to forehead with Giselle as both women drew deep, shuddering breaths against one another.

“Now you,” Lyla whispered hoarsely. Sweat dripped from the tip of her nose, running in rivulets down her cheeks and, as Giselle glanced downward, spattering across the tawny, bosomy bulges meeting Giselle’s breasts below their hate-frozen faces. “You lick my tits clean, Miss Giselle,” the blonde’s throaty voice rasped breathlessly.

Giselle grunted as she felt the blonde’s powerful hand gripping the hair at the back of her head and tugging it spitefully, twisting it into her fist the way Giselle gripped Lyla’s blonde locks. For a moment the two women simply stared into each others faces, expressions hardened with loathing, as they slowly tore at each others’ scalps. Then Giselle pressed forward, baring her teeth slowly, mirroring the carnivorous snarl that Lyla had shown her.

Giselle’s tongue flicked across Lyla’s chin and tasted the hot salt of the blonde’s sweat, both women trembling, panting excitedly as the redhead’s hot tongue slid across Lyla’s lips and sensed the creamy aftertaste of long-worn-off lipstick. Lyla’s mouth gaped as she threatened Giselle’s mouth and tongue with her fangs and Giselle caught a flash of the blonde’s tongue lying in wait.

Desperately, the redhead smeared her cheek against Lyla’s, avoiding the other woman’s mouth, yanking back with her fist as the two women engaged in a slow test of strength against the hard, painful edge of the well. Lyla groaned against Giselle and the redhead found a reserve of stamina as she felt the other young woman’s muscle come to life underneath the soft, feminine flesh pressing against her. Years of farm work had toughened Giselle in ways that would have surprised her school mates and friends, and she felt a rush of pride as she managed to twist the blonde’s body back against the well and brace against her pelvis to pelvis, her bare thighs wrestling Lyla’s.

Giselle glared sullenly upward at Lyla’s face as she bent her head downward to smell the aroma of sweat, cheap perfume and female flesh wafting up from the blonde’s thick bosom. Hot perspiration beaded on Lyla’s two bulging breasts and Giselle stared up into the blonde’s eyes as she extended her tongue and began to lick and lap droplets of salty sweat slowly from the enemy blonde’s boobs. Despite her tan Lyla’s breasts were silky smooth, quivering under Giselle’s tongue until she bent lower to nip and bite, taking the delicate, tender flesh into her mouth and sinking her incisors into them as if they were hot cutlets of savory meat.
Lyla’s body squirmed at twitched against Giselle’s as the two women strained against each other and the well and Giselle slowly had her fill of the blonde’s two sweat-drenched breasts. When she was done she painfully dragged Lyla’s head backwards and landed two powerful slaps that rang off the blonde’s cheeks, spattering droplets of sweat that the redhead heard plummet to mix with the cool well water a few seconds later.

Satisfied, Giselle shoved Lyla away from her, but the angry blonde quickly advanced again and returned the two purposeful, stinging slaps, leaving Giselle’s cheeks ringing and red as the two enemy vixens briefly separated, each gasping, chests heaving now as they leaned against the well glaring hatefully at one another.

“You think you’re done with me?” Lyla snarled hotly. “You ain’t done a thing to cool my breasts, not with that hot filthy tongue of yours!” The veneer of pride that the blonde had always thrown in Giselle’s face had fled now and Lyla’s country gutter tramp core was beginning to show. She started to reach for the well handle and Giselle quickly slapped the offending hand away.

“You touch that well and I’ll finish you,” the redhead hissed, and for a second she thought she saw a touch of fear in Lyla’s eyes. Giselle had always had anger and resentment to spare but apart from a few slaps at Clem she had never really attacked another human being with intent to harm, but this private, earthy struggle between her and Lyla had opened up something inside her that Giselle wasn’t sure she could contain.

Furiously, the redhead reached over to the well handle and gave it a few angry pumps as she glared at Lyla. Refusing to take her eyes off of the blonde’s, she filled her hands with a cupful of cold water and splashed it once again across her face and cleavage, eagerly drinking down the remains and licking the cool water off her fingers, daring Lyla to interfere.

“If you want your big melons chilled you’re going to have to get that well water off me,” she panted.

“Is that right?” Lyla replied, her tawny breasts already beading up with a new coating of sweat in the relentless night heat. “Well you’re not done taking the sweat off my jugs, that’s for sure, honey.”

Giselle glanced down at Lyla’s heaving chest as the standoff continued, determined not to let the cheap blonde get the upper hand of this encounter. More and more the awareness that no one in a country mile could see or hear the two of them was sinking in for the redhead, and that and the dirty taunts and button-pushing, brazen contest between them was disintegrating the redhead’s inhibitions one by one.

She reached back and unbuttoned one of the buttons on the back of her slip, then slid the two straps of the garment off her shoulders while Lyla stared at her coldly. Giselle urged the damp satin downward until her two cherry red nipples popped out of it, chilled and hardened by the cold water and the heat of the struggle with Lyla. She left just enough material underneath to support the two all-but-bare globes of pale flesh and their cherry tips, tossing her damp, matted tangle of red hair backward in a gesture of defiance that sent a ripple through the staggering display of breast flesh as a final taunt to the blonde facing her.

“If you want those golden tits of yours cooled down you’re going to have to take the well water right off of these,” Giselle whispered. “And I just dare you to try.”

Lyla pursed her lips, seeming to bite them from inside as she pondered her response. Then she too reached to unfasten the upper back of her slip. Before pulling her shoulder straps down the blonde reached up to slowly grip and squeeze her two sweat-drenched melons, demonstrating their weight and firmness while she locked eyes with Giselle. Then Lyla pulled the two straining shoulder straps downward and peeled her own damp slip cups downward, smearing glistening sweat across her baring breasts until Giselle saw the shocking pale skin of two tan lines marking hemispheres across Lyla’s trophies, two dark brown nipples and areolas contrasting with the milky white flesh of the fronts of her breasts.

“Honey, I’ll gladly wipe down those monsters of yours if it means smearing my hot sweat all over you,” the blonde said huskily. “I’m going to leave your body wrecked on that porch tonight, and I’ll take pleasure in wringing the sweat off my big twins until you’re drowning in it.”

Both women still breathed hard, their chests rising and falling as they displayed their heavy loads to one another in a brazen competition of pure feminine power: two pairs of dripping wet, perfectly rounded womanly flesh glistening and quivering in the moonlight, heat roiling off both staggering bosoms and the contrast between Giselle’s oven-hot mammaries and the cold water soaking them was so intense that steam seemed to be rising from those two creamy globes as they faced down Lyla’s tan-lined tits.

The two sultry hellcats circled each other, still panting slowly, and it was Giselle now who bit her lower lip uncertainly as she looked for any sign of hesitation in Lyla’s scowl. She had never bared her breasts in front of another adult woman but a solid year of flaunting herself in front of the men on the farm had hardwired her to take great pleasure in the stares her chest could inspire and she still felt an electric thrill at the flash in Lyla’s eyes as the blonde glared at Giselle’s exposed tits. Lyla’s dark brown nipples jutted out like gun barrels, contrasting shockingly with the pale, untanned skin at the center of her breasts, and they seemed to have grown longer and stiffer, almost pointing upward, as the two women flashed their bare breasts at each other.

Giselle stared into Lyla’s eyes as the two hussies stalked one another slowly. Who knew what kind of filth the blonde tramp got into night after night in town, Giselle thought. She’d always felt sure the cheap blonde spent her evenings with other whores doing Lord knows what and that the sight of another woman’s body might not impress her overmuch. But there was something fragile about Lyla’s mask of smug contempt now, she thought. Maybe she’d seen other women’s bodies, but none like Giselle’s.

The blonde was sidestepping slowly, both women maneuvering away from the well toward the side of the house as they regarded each other’s brandished bustlines warily.

“If you want some cold water come and take it,” Giselle whispered, reaching up for a second to squeeze her two creamy glands so that water dripped through her fingers and seemed to be wrung from her own firm flesh.

“I’ll take it from you drop by drop,” Lyla hissed, smoothing her rumpled slip down and tugging it until it appeared skintight on her womanly torso before moving forward to meet Giselle.

Giselle imitated the gesture, wanting her own slip as taut as Lyla’s so as to flaunt her body one last time before the two enemies made contact. The two women hissed as their dagger-hard nipples grazed and scraped, grateful for the sweat and well water that provided scant lubrication for that puckered, abrasive flesh, and breathing came hard now as Giselle edged her nipples directly into Lyla’s aureoles, enduring the sandpaper scouring of the other woman’s brown nipple shafts directly against her aroused, cherry red womanly weapons.

“You cheap…filthy trash,” Giselle whispered as she held her stiff nipples against Lyla’s, drinking in the slack, drunken expression in the blonde’s half-lidded eyes, her nostrils flaring at the stingy tang of sweat and perfume hanging over Lyla’s bare, glistening breasts and the warm woman-smell of her breath as the two women stood nose to nose in the damp, nocturnal heat.

“You sleazy barnyard whore,” Lyla sneered, her voice a dry rasp, as if her body had dehydrated itself as it covered her flesh in hot sweat. Giselle felt a blush of hot shame mixing with the cold well water on her bare breasts as she engaged the blonde in this utterly taboo confrontation, but the awful sense of humiliation only seemed to harden her exposed nipple shafts even further, causing them to scrape and strain painfully against Lyla’s as the two topless women trembled and shuddered against each other.

“I could always see those nasty things poking through every cheap summer dress you wore in church like they were bursting to get out,” the redhead growled accusingly as she managed to slowly flick her rigid, crimson shafts provocatively against Lyla’s. “I’m not surprised they feel so stiff and raw right now…”

“Don’t try to pretend you didn’t put yours on display in this cheap slip of yours every summer day, Giselle,” Lyla sneered, and Giselle felt a paroxysm of erotic electricity flash through her chest as the blonde returned the nipple drag, bending the redhead’s rubbery shafts almost enough to make her cry out as she flicked her weapons back across Giselle’s. “Yours are as hard as a cock and you know it…”

“You’ve been awfully curious about what I’ve got so you take a good long look and get an eyeful of your betters, blondie,” Giselle rumbled, managing to push forward enough so that her erect nipples clashed in an unbearable, tingling tangle with Lyla’s in a moment that made both women gasp, teeth bared as they glared hotly at one another.

“You’re the one finally getting a good look at a real woman, Miss Ginger,” Lyla purred, nudging her own nipples back into Giselle’s and somehow stabbing the two hard shafts directly into the round targets of Giselle’s aureoles. Giselle twisted angrily against the blonde and for a moment her bare, goosebumped breasts smacked heavily against Lyla’s sweat-drenched pair, spattering droplets of water and perspiration down into the grass.

“You bare bitch,” Lyla growled, roughly returning the bare-breasted blow and forcing a grunt from Giselle as she felt the full weight of the blonde’s big breasts thud and smack into her own. “Go ahead and wipe my big ones down…”

Giselle moaned as the two women now jammed their upper bodies together and the redhead began to wipe her chilled, bare bosom across Lyla’s matching bustline inch by inch, commingling the ice-cold coating of well water with the hot, steaming perspiration coating the blonde’s bare breasts. “You clean the well water off my tits you blonde gutter trash,” the redhead said in a voice trembling with excitement and lust.

Giselle panted and gasped as her breasts began to mushroom against the blonde’s, consoled only slightly by the answering moan from Lyla Clanton as the town tramp’s tawny tits pressed against Giselle’s. The redhead had had hands, teeth and tongues on her breasts before but nothing prepared her for the sheer sensuality of another woman’s soft, naked, weighty mammary glands touching, pressing and sliding against her own bare breasts.

She felt Lyla shiver at the touch of ice cold water still chilled on her breasts’ gooseflesh, and the feeling of the blonde’s burning hot boobs and their coating of sultry sweat felt like branding irons searing the redhead’s chilled skin. The initial, pillow softness of the blonde’s round glands quickly shifted to a shocking, rock-hard firmness as the two women maneuvered their breasts into closer contact, rib cages providing an impenetrable barrier to trap those four heavy, bulging melons against one another until there was no escape, no retreat.

Giselle moaned herself as she struggled to drag her breasts across the fleshy territory of her enemy’s glands inch by inch as cold water and beading sweat began to pool and dribble into the two meeting valleys between each woman’s boobs and mingle into a lukewarm but quickly heating sheet of liquid soaking their two opposing chests. “You want cold water on those tits, I’ll give it to you, tramp,” she growled as she began to push Lyla backward, slowly grinding her big breasts into the blonde’s.

Lyla retreated a few steps before pushing back with surprising strength, once again pressing Giselle’s breasts to the breaking point as the two women pressed four hardened pockets of compacted tissue against one another head to head. “I’m going to smear my sweat all over your big ones, Giselle,” Lyla said huskily, her forehead grazing Giselle’s.

“You’re damn right I’ve got big ones,” Giselle responded as the two women bumped and shoved back and forth near the farmhouse wall. “I’ll chill your titties til you’ve got gooseflesh just like mine have.”

“I’ve got enough sweat to heat up yours up good, honey,” Lyla responded. “You may be big but the Lord saw fit to make me bigger…”

“You’re a liar,” Giselle hissed, peeling her breasts off of the blonde’s for a second and then jamming them back into her with a plop that matched the distant thunder and spattered drops of well water and sweat across both their chests and faces.

Lyla staggered back as Giselle grimaced at the sting of that heavy impact, then rocketed forward and smacked her own soaked breasts directly into Giselle’s with a thunderclap every bit as loud. The two women grappled and moaned, hugging cheek to cheek as they each absorbed the stinging pain now throbbing through their big glands as those four wrecking balls pounded each other. Giselle tore slowly at Lyla’s hair and felt the other woman’s claws in her scalp as the two rivals began to ram, smack and pound back and forth across the yard for several long, punishing moments before clinching cheek to cheek, moaning as they each applied punishing pressure to each other’s flattening boobs, their heavy tits mushrooming under each other’s arms as their bodies pressed together in a vicious, crushing embrace.

“I’ll do more than wipe the sweat off your breasts,” Giselle panted, her anger flaring as the pain of this smashing, crushing duel accelerated. “I swear I’ll squeeze the mother’s milk out of you before we’re through tonight…”

“I’ll make these big puppies squirt before I’m finished with you,” Lyla growled as she twisted and tore at Giselle’s red locks. “Then I might just suck you dry.”

“You filthy street whore,” Giselle snarled, her face twisting with a mix of raw hatred and sick excitement as she felt age-old inhibitions stripping themselves away from her. “Best hope I don’t wind up on top of you tonight so I don’t suck and bite those angry nipples of yours sore…”

“You’re welcome to try after you’ve licked my titties clean, Miss Giselle!” Lyla snarled, yanking at Giselle’s hair while her free hand roved down the redhead’s back and waist, her claws finally digging into the hem of her slip, tugging and tearing at it until it rode up over the redhead’s squirming fanny.

“You gutter trash,” Giselle panted, her own free hand feeling its way down the blonde’s curvy body, digging her nails into the bulging flesh of one flexing buttock. The two women staggered against the house and Giselle felt the scrape of unpainted wood against her thigh and shoulder as she struggled with the blonde. “The only well you’re going to drink from tonight is gonna come off these two trophies!”

“I’ll drink you dry you high and mighty whore,” Lyla growled.

“Now it’s just us two, Lyla Clanton,” Giselle purred as she edged in closer to the blonde. “I hated Clem for bringing you here for the night but maybe it’s just what I’ve been wanting. You always thought you were better than me but now you can find out for yourself just which of us is more woman…”

“Oh, I know you’ve been itching to show yourself off to me, Miss Giselle,” Lyla replied coolly. “You don’t dress that way at church for the parson, that’s for damn sure. I’ve never seen another woman go to such lengths to show me what she’s got and in the house of the Lord too…”

“What I gave you every Sunday was a warning, honey tits, about just exactly what you’d be up against if you ever got between me and my husband!” Giselle snapped. “If you think I was going to let you show up there week after week flaunting your wares and spilling out of that cheap dress you’re dumber than you’ve always looked.”

“Well nobody looked me over every Sunday harder than you, miss high and mighty,” Lyla hissed, her voice again growing raw with hate. “You’ve been wanting to get a look at my chest naked for a long time and now you’ve got your chance to feel it too…”

“And you weren’t getting an eyeful at Sunday worship?” Giselle thundered, furious at the implication that she might have any more interest in the blonde’s body than Lyla had in hers. “Every time I looked over at you I could see your eyes roving over me from top to bottom. Fact is I enjoyed making you jealous over my man and your old farm…but when it gets down to the real dirt between us you just can’t stand the fact that I’m more of a woman than you are.” The redhead shook her matted hair back off her forehead and gave her chest a shake too to punctuate the claim, sending a few droplets of cold water spattering across Lyla’s tits.

The blonde twitched as if the cold water shocked her. Both women stood with their hands on their hips, brandishing their bare breasts proudly and angrily as they edged closer to the side wall of the old house.

“All I have to do is look down to see who’s more woman right here, Giselle,” Lyla said threateningly. “If you think you’ve got something big enough to outclass mine let’s see you prove it…”

Almost before she knew it Giselle was smashed up against Lyla, the two Southern beauties smashing their soaking wet trophies into one another once again in a clash of flesh and sweat. This time they locked their arms around one another and hugged into a deadly clinch, struggling cheek to cheek in the moonlight while Giselle twisted her upper body into Lyla’s, moaning at the sensation of her two firm, exposed mammary glands crushing into the blonde’s. Lyla screeched as her hard nipples bent, stymied by the rock-hard crush of Giselle’s boobs, compressed now with no escape and transformed from supple softness to unyielding, impregnable domes jostling with Lyla’s equally hard hemispheres for space in the cramped arena between their two rib cages.
Lyla’s cheeks, her ear and hair felt unbearably hot and damp against Giselle’s and she clutched desperately at the blonde’s hair with one hand pressed against the back of the blonde’s neck while her other hand gripped and tore at the hem of the other woman’s short slip. She felt Lyla’s powerful arms hugging her, the blonde’s strong fingers tugging Giselle’s red locks and tearing at her slip hem while her exposed, creamy thighs flexed against the blonde’s tawny legs.

“You sweaty cow,” Lyla snarled against her, her breath hot and sweat as it mingled with sweat and perfume against Giselle’s face. Her body slowly twitched and twisted like a snake against Giselle’s torso, adding another layer of friction to the encounter that had heretofore been dominated by the feeling of bare, sweat-slick breasts against breasts. “Now you get a good feel of me once and for all…”

Almost unconsciously Giselle found herself gripping the other woman’s comely ass cheeks, clutching and squeezing as she tugged at the blonde’s dress hem. “You feel me, you cheap town tramp,” she moaned, shivering at the touch as Lyla retaliated, the blonde’s strong fingers digging into Giselle’s flexing buttocks as the two curvy, bare-breasted women strained against each other.

Giselle tugged upward and was rewarded with the sound of Lyla’s slip shredding under her fingers. Already she could feel the press of the blonde’s lush pelvis mating with hers and a new, dangerous heat factor being added to the confrontation as the dense triangle of Lyla’s pubic mound made its presence felt underneath the remains of the blonde’s slip. She could feel Lyla’s fingers tearing at her own scanty undergarment as the blonde clawed and squeezed at Giselle’s bulging behind and Giselle’s breath quickened as she realized the vulnerability both women now shared as the private, nocturnal battle intensified.

Giselle had sworn off underwear that evening, with the farmhands and her husband gone—it was just one more layer of clothing to add to the oppressive heat and the nakedness under her slip skirt gave her at least a little relief as she tried to sleep, even if it also added to the pent-up frustration as every movement seemed to stimulate and arouse her nether flesh beyond her ability to withstand it.

Now she realized as she gripped and explored the blonde’s pelvis that Lyla was naked under her slip as well, and it was only a matter of time until this naked vulnerability became a factor in the struggle. “I’ll tell you what I feel,” Lyla panted as she tugged at Giselle’s slip, seeming to read the redhead’s thoughts. “Your bare nethers heating up between those big thighs of yours,” the blonde continued, her chest bulging into Giselle’s as she squirmed and clinched with the redhead.

“You look to your own privates, hussy,” Giselle snapped, her cheek grinding hot into Lyla’s. “Or I’ll tear this slip off you and we’ll see if you’re blonde or not…”

“You’d like to get my skirt off once and for all, wouldn’t you?” Lyla gasped, the blonde now urging her burning hot crotch directly against Giselle’s as the two sultry enemies moaned in the intimate, uncomfortable clinch.

“Keep your big cootch away from me, Lyla Clanton!” Giselle snarled, a hint of desperation in her voice now as her breathing came thick and hard. Almost in spite of herself, Giselle’s gluteus muscles flexed and she found herself jamming her own crotch back warningly against the firm, hot triangle between Lyla’s thighs.

“You watch where you put yours, you ginger tramp,” the blonde growled back at her, both women seeming to dare the other onward while each continued to tear at her opponent’s slip, the two damp, thin garments now wrapped around each other’s wiggling pelvises, the only remaining physical and social barrier between their two exposed, obviously aroused bodies.

Giselle winced, her brow furrowing in intense frustration as the two women seemed to hug each other tighter yet hesitate, each tugging at the other’s bunched up slip, fingers digging into her opponent’s flexing ass, yet Giselle didn’t dare rip the blonde’s last remaining clothing off of her as she realized the raw implications of where this struggle could be headed.

She could still feel Lyla yanking slowly at the thin satin protecting her pelvis, threatening to expose her womanhood once and for all, and she jerked at Lyla’s slip warningly as the two sweat-drenched, disheveled women continued to clinch in a slow, wary dance next to the farmhouse.

“I should strip you bare here and now and expose you for the whore you are,” Giselle growled against the blonde’s cheek.
“You do and I’ll tear this cheap slip off your behind right now,” Lyla replied coolly. “You want it bare? Just try me, miss high and mighty.”

“I’ll bet a whore like you likes it bare-assed,” Giselle whispered, unable to help herself. “I’ll bet you strut that big ass of yours around town at night in the all-together, right? Giving anyone who’s awake a cheap show?”

“Is that what you’re doing down on the farm, honey?” Lyla snarled against Giselle’s mouth, her lush lips brushing the redhead’s until Giselle found herself gasping at the touch. “Lord knows you gave every farmhand who worked here an eyeful of everything else you’ve got so I wouldn’t be surprised if you shake your ass buck naked out here every night of the summer!”

“And you’re so prim and proper, miss town whore?” Giselle snarled back against the blonde. “You probably can’t wait to show off what you’ve got down there between your legs…”

“At least I don’t have an ugly ginger mop underneath my skirt like you,” the blonde hissed at her, jerking at the remains of her slip to emphasize the point.

“No, just a big handful of peroxide pussy hair!” Giselle shot back, jerking at the blonde’s hem hard enough that she felt the ravaged slip begin to shred in half. The redhead stopped herself as she felt Lyla’s slip begin to part between her fingers and the firm, hot flesh of the blonde’s bare behind filling her hand.

“You ginger bitch,” Lyla snarled, tearing again at Giselle’s slip until the tattered remains of both garments were now held together only by the pressure between Giselle’s pelvis and Lyla’s. Giselle winced as she felt the blonde’s hand smack down onto her bare rump, sending a shockwave of pain and arousal through her hips and forcing an instant response as she too smacked her open hand down onto the blonde’s exposed ass.

“Tramp,” Giselle growled, both women now gripping one of her rival’s firm, muscular buttocks while she tugged at her enemy’s hair to maintain the hot, provocative bearhug. Giselle tried to concentrate on repulsing Lyla’s two big, sweating boobs with her own, focusing on the defiant hardness of those two tawny, tan-lined tits against her own and measuring the mass and firmness of her enemy’s bosom as it crushed into her own proud, resistant bustline, as if that clash of erotic flesh might somehow deflect from the angry, far more dangerous confrontation now heating up between her pelvis and Lyla’s.

Giselle knew that her own sexual frustration had helped spark this midnight tussle with her longtime blonde rival, and that Lyla’s eagerness to push the struggle to this ruthless, boundary-pushing limit must be borne out of the same deprivation. The woman she thought was likely getting it every night must not be getting it enough, just like Giselle, and now here they were, going at each other like two whores hungry for satisfaction. The only question was who was hungrier and stronger between the two of them…

“It’d suit a barnyard cow like you right if I was to squeeze the milk out of your fat udders right here and now,” Lyla groaned against Giselle’s chest, the blonde sounding like she too wanted to focus on anything other than their two shredded slips now slowly sliding down off each other’s pelvises. The redhead’s flanks were now bare and as she gripped Lyla’s ass she could feel that the blonde was in the same condition, the tattered remains of her slip now dangling from her belly and inner thighs, only the pressure of her crotch against Giselle’s keeping both women’s slips from joining each other in a heap at the feet of the two clinching young women.

“Don’t you threaten me, you blonde she-cat,” Giselle panted, almost eager herself to deflect attention from the situation developing between their two mated hips. “You’ve got milk in those two big city tits too and I’d love to squeeze the two of them dry…”

“Just you try it, honey,” Lyla moaned, her shoulders working to press her two firm tits even more firmly against Giselle’s, forcing the redhead to respond in kind and wince as her two erect nipples scraped in a hot, tight knot against Lyla’s as they lay trapped and bent against one another at the centers of each pair of conflicting tit flesh. “You wanted to set your pair against mine tonight and I’ll give these two big creamy cupcakes everything they’ve been asking for…”

“Yours have been asking for it too, town tramp,” Giselle groaned as she worked her bare breasts against Lyla’s with slow, spiteful determination. “I’ve had my fill of these two big puppies shaking in front of me…”

“And I’ve had a bellyful of your big pale boobs, baby,” Lyla hissed against Giselle’s cheek. She gave Giselle’s ass a vicious squeeze and the redhead felt her attention dragged reluctantly back down below their warring breasts and bellies to the standoff between their pressing pelvises. Her own nails dragged down the side of the blonde’s butt, feeling the exposed flank and realizing the two women were now entirely bare-assed in the back yard. She managed to glance sideways at one of the farmhouse’s dark windows and see a dim reflection of the two of them, their faces twisted into snarls of hate as they pressed together cheek to cheek, the bountiful manes of hair each was so proud of reduced now to tangled snarls, shoulders and backs bare and gleaming with sweat in the light of the moon, two bulging mounds of breast tissue mushrooming against one another between their chests, sweat streaming down their lean, exposed waists right down to the matching flare of their pelvises. Giselle could see her own milky pale flesh squirm against Lyla’s tanned, tawny body, as if her figure were pure, poured cream glistening in the pale midnight light while Lyla’s strong curves seemed like a bronze sculpture brought to life.

Giselle felt a rush of newfound arousal at the spectacle. She had seen a few catfights in school and around town before her marriage but nothing like this down and dirty, raw showdown between two evenly-matched and it seemed equally aroused young hellcats. Now the long evening of staring at her own barely clothed body in the mirror seemed to pay obscene dividends as she measured her own intoxicating beauty against Lyla’s. Stripped down to the waist, disheveled and drenched with her own sweat, the blonde tramp looked more beautiful than she ever had in any alluring Sunday church dress, her body revealing secrets and treasures Giselle had never suspected she possessed. She could see the blonde’s tanned behind flexing its muscle as her pelvis worked against Giselle’s—she had never seen that bare bottom except covered by tight summer dresses, and she marveled at the bulging power the blonde’s buttocks demonstrated and the long sinew and muscle flexing along her thighs as she maneuvered body to body with the redhead.

At the same time Giselle could appreciate her own womanly curves, her own supple, sweat-drenched flesh, and the glimpse of her own muscular derriere gleaming like some perfect marble statue as it too flexed and twitched under the cool summer moonlight. The damp, torn shreds of the two enemies’ slips still bunched between the two pairs of feminine hips, threatening more and more to tumble to the ground, and Giselle was keenly aware that she was keeping her pelvis pressed firmly into Lyla’s and being met with an answering pressure from the blonde’s overheated crotch as the two women moved in a slow, tense dance in the darkened farm yard.

“You dirty she-bitch,” the redhead growled quietly, twisting her fingers into Lyla’s damp blonde hair and giving it a painful little yank that the blonde instantly answered as she tugged Giselle’s hot face into closer contact with hers.

“You big ginger hellcat,” Lyla sneered, her dry lips again grazing Giselle’s as their two bodies seemed determined to press closer, exposing every nook and cranny, every curve and contour to its counterpart, as if sheer heat and pressure were the secret to winning this midnight battle of wills.

Both women now dragged the nails of their free hands up and down the bare flank of her rival’s pelvis as if reinforcing their near nudity below the waist, each reminding the other that they were just two dangling strips of satin short of confronting one another nude.

“I’m going to crush the life out of you…” Giselle breathed, again tugging Lyla closer by the hair until it seemed her own bare breasts might burst from the pressure of the blonde’s heavy boobs crushing against them. She could feel the pounding of Lyla’s heart thudding between them, a vibration shuddering through their four matched breasts and echoed by her own hammering pulse as she felt the blonde’s hot body coating her skin with sizzling sweat.

“I’ll punish this bare body of yours,” Lyla panted, and Giselle again felt her own chapped lips cracking as they dragged against the blonde’s panting mouth. She felt woozy, light-headed with fatigue and thirst, her stamina slowly being defeated by the night heat and her enemy. But the blonde’s breathing too was dry, her voice cracked…and Lyla had been the one begging Giselle for cool water…

“I’m not bare yet,” the redhead sneered, her nails raking the naked flank of Lyla’s pelvis and feeling an instant response as the blonde gripped Giselle’s butt, her thumb digging into her side just where her thigh bone met her hip, her fingers cupping, squeezing and clawing the firm muscle of Giselle’s ass.

She felt Lyla’s pubic mound burning through the two layers of slip material as the blonde pressed her crotch insistently into Giselle’s. She felt the blonde’s butt muscle bunch under her fingers as Lyla twisted her nether flesh into the mangle of satin walling each woman off from her opponent’s sexuality, and she felt her own derriere respond instinctively, flexing to drag her own throbbing pubic mound back against the hot satin folds and swearing she could begin to feel the contours of Lyla Clanton’s pussy lips flaming against her own.

“I should have stripped you bare like this a long time ago, honey,” Lyla sneered against Giselle’s mouth. “But I guess a big ginger pussy like you’s too proud to show off her big ginger fur to a real woman, am I right now?” The blonde gave Giselle’s hair a final yank before she dropped her hand so both hands now dragged their claws along the glistening bulges of Giselle’s naked ass.

Turning her head, the blonde braced her chin and mouth against Giselle’s as the two women turned to face each other nose to nose, still panting hot breath now directly into one another’s open mouths, chins crushing as they tested their neck muscles against one another in the dark.

“A real woman?” Giselle snarled, shivering at the feeling of her lips now directly confronting Lyla’s, brushing erotically against the blonde’s with every hate-drenched syllable she uttered. “You mean a bottle blonde, peroxide-dyed masquerade hussy?” Now it was Giselle’s turn to give her rival’s tangled blonde hair a final yank before she dropped her hand with a slap onto Lyla’s bare bottom and both women now danced together, each gripping her enemy’s behind in an open display of sexual goading. “You tell me true, Lyla Clanton—do you dye that fur between your legs or is it just thin, weak corn silk like every real blonde I’ve ever seen?”

“You better watch your hot little mouth or you’re gonna find out right quick, little Giselle,” Lyla growled, her nails digging into both Giselle’s bare ass cheeks now as if she would wring more hot liquid out of the redhead’s pelvic region than the warm sweat running down its flanks in rivulets.

“Why don’t you show me if you’re so hot about it, honey?” Giselle replied, squeezing the blonde’s muscular behind just as viciously. “Maybe hot red fur puts a scare in that pale blonde fuzz you’ve got down there? Or is it dirty black like the color of your roots?” Without that mutual grip on each other’s hair, the pressure had eased off their chests a bit although Giselle still moaned at the hot weight of Lyla’s firm mounds and their weighty load of hot perspiration pressing against hers. But now the burning contact between their two concealed pubic mounds was redoubled as each hellcat gripped her opponent’s two powerful buttocks and urged their hips and crotches into a defiant, dominating crush.

“I don’t need any hair dye to outshine that ginger mess you’ve got down there, pussycat,” Lyla sneered against Giselle’s mouth. “You just keep running that dirty mouth and I’ll strip your nethers bare here and now…”

“Well yours are gonna burn their way out of that slip any second now anyway, Miss Lyla,” the redhead snarled, gripping and smacking the blonde’s quivering, bare ass as she tugged her body even closer. Smacks rained down hard onto Giselle’s ass now too as Lyla twisted against her body, the blonde shaking in frustration as her fingers sought to tear and tug against the satin barrier keeping their pelvises apart.

“You better hope they don’t burn your big firecrotch right to the ground, whore,” the blonde growled. Giselle found herself snarling against the blonde’s open mouth at that taunt and jamming her crotch directly into Lyla’s. The blonde retaliated instantly, both women grunting as their pubic mounds executed two quick, devastating punches into each other. When Giselle’s pelvis instinctively withdrew, she felt the damp remains of her slip suddenly flutter to the ground, to be quickly joined by Lyla’s.

The two women clutched one another, gasping, each suddenly keenly aware of her vulnerability as damp, cool air finally found their briefly separated pussies. Giselle had barely trimmed her crimson pubic fur and the jungle of hot curls still felt stifling, raw and sticky from the sweaty, grinding encounter. She quickly discovered that Lyla’s nethers too were densely furred, and she was able to glimpse down briefly to see the moonlight glittering off golden, dew-dappled pubic curls before Lyla’s body smacked into hers and the raw, hot friction of the blonde’s bare cunt suddenly savaged Giselle’s naked pussy.

Lyla’s breath blasted into Giselle’s mouth as the two women’s hot, bare cunts smacked together in a damp, tangled mass of contrasting pubic curls. Giselle gripped the blonde’s buns ferociously and felt an answering squeeze on her own bare behind as the two women urged their bare cunts into heated, intimate contact. Giselle felt her eyes begin to water as the slick, silky smooth feel of her enemy’s bare skin and its slippery coating of sweat contrasted shockingly with the raw, hot friction of Lyla’s pubic fur grinding into Giselle’s. The slow dance between the two rivals stiffened into a tense, statue-like standoff as both women’s bodies registered the shock of feeling her opponent’s V-shaped pubic mound, the heated dampness of their matted jungles of nether fur and the soft, hidden folds of sexual flesh afforded scant protection by the curly strands of hair now meeting and tangling between them.

The blonde’s breath came in a shuddering, rasping moan as the word “Pussy” escaped her lips, and Giselle found her creamy body twisting ravenously into Lyla’s as her own mouth moaned the word “Cunt” into Lyla’s bared teeth. She trembled against the blonde’s big, sweating tits, her nails digging deep into Lyla’s ass as she struggled to hold the other woman’s pelvis into shocking contact with her own, her mind forming a topographic image of the blonde’s impressive sexual anatomy as her own vulva rubbed and felt their way into the crevices and folds of its enemy’s sex.

“You big cunt,” she repeated, feeling the blonde’s pussy twitching involuntarily as if stung by Giselle’s words.

“You cheap ginger pussy,” Lyla moaned, forcing a spasm of arousal out of the redhead’s snatch as it dragged its hot fur against Lyla’s. “The minute I saw you bending your ass over that well I told myself I was going to come out here and teach you a lesson once and for all…”

“Big blonde bitch,” Giselle snarled as her dry lips grazed Lyla’s hungrily. “If you’d have spoke a civil word to me in that house tonight I’d have dared you to come and meet me out here and settle things between the two of us…just you and me…”

“Hot and bothered bitch,” Lyla growled, her lips teasing Giselle’s as the two women exchanged hot, hateful breaths. “That ginger cunt must have been itching to get like this with mine…”

“Go ahead and get a good feel of mine, honey,” Giselle snarled slowly, the two women now wrestling purposefully against the farmhouse wall, bare legs straining against one another, buttocks flexing under each other’s fingers, then quivering freely in the night air as both women’s hands began to roam up and down each other’s bodies, feeling backs, waists, arms and hair as they taunted one another with their open mouths and tangling cunts.

“Feel it,” the redhead repeated, slowly forcing Lyla’s back against the hard, scraping wall. The blonde moaned like an animal as Giselle found the leverage to scrape and grind her pussy with hard, rough strokes into the blonde’s steaming snatch, and Lyla helplessly raked her claws down Giselle’s bare back and ass as the redhead squirmed and stroked into the blonde. “Is this how the other whores handle this body of yours downtown?”

“You dirty ginger tramp,” Lyla growled as she squirmed helplessly against the hard wood, her pelvis stroking back into Giselle’s defiantly and forcing a few gasps and moans from the redhead as her pussy absorbed the other woman’s punishment. “If you think you’re going to take me down like a man I’m going to make you think twice…”

“Bleached blonde bitch,” Giselle gasped. “You think you’re going to do it to me outside my own house? I’ll take care of you, baby,” she moaned, quickening her thrusts, her pelvis finding its own rhythm against Lyla’s brazen thrusts, both women hissing and twitching at every stinging jab and tug of tangled pubic hair, every nudge and scrape of inflamed vulva against vulva.

“You gutter whore,” Lyla snarled, her mouth now finding Giselle’s in a hungry oral confrontation as the redhead dragged her swollen, dry lips furiously against the blonde’s.

“Street trash,” Giselle gasped, finally daring to scrape her tongue against the other woman’s sneering lips only to feel the blonde’s teeth baring against her mouth. The two gasping women feinted, dodged each other’s incisors, then suddenly locked mouths with an angry click of clashing teeth. Giselle felt the blonde’s tongue snake inside of her, hot and dry like a leathery snake inside her mouth, and she found herself furiously thrusting her own dry tongue back against Lyla’s in a clash of scraping, brazen licks.
She felt her bare back and buttock slam against the sandpaper coarseness of the farmhouse wall behind her as Lyla reversed their positions, the blonde’s powerful body pinning Giselle’s creamy form, splitting her thighs as she nestled her pelvis between them and jammed vicious thrust after thrust into the redhead’s ginger pussy.

Lyla’s mouth attacked Giselle’s ravenously, both woman moaning loudly now in sexual anguish as their bodies took each other’s measure, bucking and squirming flesh against flesh, breasts battering one another, nipples popping up, stabbing and bending in heated skirmishes as the two women wrestled against one another. Giselle’s heart pounded as her mouth engaged Lyla’s, their tongues dueling furiously until the redhead was forced to pull her lips away from the blonde’s.

“I…I can’t take it!” Giselle gasped as she began to sag against the blonde, her breasts slipping briefly below Lyla’s as the two women clutched together against the wall. Then she felt Lyla giving way against her until the two women thudded headlong into the warm grass. Lyla briefly fell on top of Giselle, her heavy breasts battering Giselle’s, then she rolled onto her back, her tawny breasts wobbling on her chest as she gasped for air.

“You dirty hussy,” the blonde wheezed, reaching down to soothe her own overheated crotch as Giselle gasped for air next to her.

The heat of the night seemed to be boiling over now as sweat ran in sheets down Giselle’s body and thunder rumbled far away on the horizon. The redhead’s hands and feet felt numb and useless, but she managed to roll onto her belly, struggling to catch her breath, and gather herself on her elbows and knees, breasts dangling, crimson hair matted across her face.

Lyla’s bare body seemed to fade into invisibility next to her and even the farmhouse became a mirage, as insubstantial as a faulty memory next to the one vividly seen object in Giselle’s range of vision: the well.

Giselle choked and gasped as she began to crawl toward the well of life-giving water, her lungs burning, breasts now like twin weights dragging her to the ground as she crawled through the grass and straw, finally pulling herself up the side of the well, her fingers clutching for the pump. The redhead forced her head under the spigot and used what seemed like her last remaining energy to pump a stream of chilled, icy water onto her face and hair, letting the cooling liquid run down her back and down across her breasts and stomach. Finally she gaped underneath the spigot and began to drink, choking for a few seconds before she managed to draw several long draughts of cold water down her throat.

Too exhausted to continue, Giselle knelt, still gasping and coughing, only to look up to see Lyla’s bare, sweat-soaked body moving toward her in a crouch.

“Get away from that well,” the blonde growled in a parched, rasping voice. Giselle couldn’t speak, but some prehistoric survival instinct inside her brought her unsteadily to her feet, one arm extended in a warning as Lyla advanced on her.

The blonde staggered into Giselle, pinning her against the well in a smack of sweating flesh, and for one horrific instinct the redhead thought they’d both tumble into the well to their deaths. Some tiny reserve of strength in her managed to block Lyla’s body and she grabbed the other woman again by the hair, her free hand gripping the well handle. More than defending herself from the other woman, Giselle wanted—needed—more water—and she managed to wrench her body against the well and twist her face underneath the spigot one more time while she wrestled naked with Lyla.

“Give me that water!” the blonde spat viciously, grappling with the redhead until their upper bodies smacked together once again in a vicious, exhausted clinch. Giselle’s creamy, drenched breasts again found Lyla’s hot mammary glands and the two pairs of aroused, assaulted breasts began the same sultry exchange of cold water and hot sweat as they smacked together, jostled one another and slid globe against globe, mushrooming against one another tautly.

Giselle’s mouth still held a handful of cold water and Lyla’s lips hovered over hers, the blonde’s teeth bared, snarling in hate and raw thirst until she grabbed two handfuls of red hair and hauled Giselle’s mouth to hers.

The redhead’s maw gaped as Lyla’s mouth took hers, hungrily drinking and sucking the precious water from her lips and tongue, lapping it out of her mouth until she pulled Giselle down on top of her and drank directly from the redhead’s remaining mouthful of water. The redhead moaned as her wet body pressed down onto Lyla’s, her bare breasts sliding across the blonde’s shockingly firm glands that still managed to jut proudly upward from Lyla’s tawny chest to deflect Giselle’s trophies as they struggled for purchase against the slippery bare flesh of the blonde’s boobs. The redhead now sucked hungrily at Lyla’s open mouth as the life-giving water softened and slickened the raw, abraded skin of the two rivals’ gaping lips and tongues until they were once again soft, slippery and mutually arousing. Giselle’s blonde enemy returned the moan as their two tongues corkscrewed and struggled within their locked mouths and the redhead gripped Lyla’s tangled blonde hair desperately as she consolidated her oral grip on the other woman, her tongue exploring every corner of her enemy’s mouth in a furious mix of thirst and lust even as Lyla’s tongue invaded the redhead’s mouth with the same implacable energy.

Giselle twisted her throbbing lips against Lyla’s, her fists tearing at the blonde’s hair slowly, her face a tortured, wincing mask as she felt the blonde’s fingers yanking and tearing at Giselle’s hair in retaliation, both women determined to keep their open mouths locked together despite their growing exhaustion. Giselle licked hungrily at Lyla’s tongue, the fire in her crotch growing into an inferno as the sensation of the blonde’s nude, sweat-slick body and its abrasive, burning hot pubic triangle threatening Giselle’s even as the redhead consolidated her full body pin on the blonde in the grass and dirt of the farmhouse yard.

Giselle’s pussy jabbed at Lyla’s roughly and the redhead heard and felt a slippery, wet smack as her cunt encountered the blonde’s. Nerve endings along her bare back and ass seemed to ignite as she felt the hot, sticky sensation of the blonde’s unfurled, slippery labia meeting her own fully aroused pussy lips, erasing any doubt that both women were primed to finish this confrontation on nakedly sexual terms.

The redhead’s creamy inner thighs met Lyla’s as the blonde’s vulnerable position gave Giselle all the leverage she needed to turn the tables and pin Lyla’s thrashing pelvis the same way the blonde had pinned Giselle against the farmhouse wall a few minutes earlier. Giselle’s mouth popped free of Lyla’s as she gasped and panted in excitement at the chance to retaliate for the dirty, stroking attack the blonde had launched during their stand-up fight. Now her own weight bearing down on Lyla’s body was putting her in an even stronger position against the blonde and her bare, creamy bottom instinctively flexed as she jammed her cunt once again into hot contact with Lyla’s.

“What did you call me?” the redhead demanded hotly as she bared her teeth against Lyla’s gasping mouth. “’Ginger cunt’? How’s this ginger cunt feel now, hussy?”

“Get off me you big she-cat,” the blonde snarled, pressing her forehead into Giselle’s as the two women tugged angrily at each other’s hair, eyes blazing with hate as they glared at each other at close range. Lyla’s pelvis still managed to buck, her hot, sticky pubic fur scouring Giselle’s vulva as the two women stroked into each other with growing speed and power. “I’ll match my blonde cunt against your ginger any time you want!”

“Then you just feel me, you blonde she-bitch,” Giselle moaned, her teeth finding Lyla’s lips long enough to engage in a heated, hungry bite. “Feel my cunt.”

“You feel my pussy lips you tramp!” Lyla snarled, yanking Giselle’s hair and hauling the redhead’s mouth closer until Giselle felt the blonde’s sharp teeth bite into her lower lip in a long, spiteful attack. Giselle winced, hissing and eventually twisting free so that she could bite Lyla again. The open channel of her slippery labia seemed on fire now, yet the sensation of those exposed, delicate folds smacking and grinding against the blonde’s equally soft, slick flesh was like feeling molten metal against her vulnerable pussy.

Giselle spat obscenities as Lyla bit her, then heard the blonde’s unintelligible curses as she managed to land another bite onto the blonde’s angry mouth. One of Lyla’s hands left Giselle’s hair to smack viciously at Giselle’s bare ass, sending a spattering of water and sweat flying off those two bulging, flexing muscles as the redhead continued to pump and grind into the blonde’s throbbing pussy. “I’ll eat you alive, you big-city bitch,” she managed to spit as she pulled her mouth free of Lyla’s for a brief second.

“You cheap country cunt,” the blonde snarled. “I’m going to tear your body apart!”

The threats, the bites, the blonde’s smacks and clawing at her bare ass were all taking their toll on Giselle’s nervous system and she felt a new danger at the crown of her labia as her long dormant clitoris, stunted by two sexless years of marriage, now hardened enough to pop free of its slippery hood and extend into the hot battleground between the two women’s warring cunts.

Giselle felt Lyla’s body stiffen underneath her as she warily slowed her stroking against the blonde’s pussy lips. The blonde’s piercing blue eyes suddenly focused on Giselle’s and the redhead felt a tongue-like licking at the tip of her clitoris, forcing an involuntary jerk of her pelvis that first withdrew, then thrust forward her erect clit until it touched against a matching, equally slick and erect organ beneath it.

Giselle trembled, her eyes widening as she held her hardened, tingling clitoris directly against Lyla’s, while the blonde’s eyes blazed into hers, both women’s soft bodies suddenly hardening into fierce, muscular alertness at this unexpected and dangerous new sensation. Neither woman dared move a muscle as Giselle held her position atop Lyla, her breasts dangling down on top of the blonde’s boobs, nipples hardening once again as if in imitation of the two rock-hard sexual weapons now jutting from the apex of each woman’s cunt. Giselle trembled as she realized that her own clitoris, and Lyla’s, seemed to vividly match the length and thickness of the two women’s four hardened nipples, and Giselle’s clitoral shaft seemed to throb and pulse with every heartbeat in perfect time to the electric rhythm coursing through her nipples as they scraped and bent dangerously against Lyla’s.

“You dirty, rutting whore,” the blonde managed to whisper as the two women trembled against each other’s bare, sweat-soaked bodies. When the blonde continued she spoke slowly, with a deadly undercurrent. “You take that stiff, wicked little fuck finger of yours…and you get it away from mine…now.”

“Don’t you tell me what to do, Lyla Clanton,” Giselle shuddered as her pelvis hovered, trembling, above the blonde’s, maintaining the tip to tip contact between her clitoris and Lyla’s, not daring to press her electrified pink shaft any harder into the blonde’s, but terrified to withdraw that compact sexual weapon away from its rival still jutting upward from Lyla’s cunt. “Don’t you dare tell me what to do with what I’ve got.”

“Cheap…cunt,” Lyla said slowly as she glared up into Giselle’s eyes. “’What you’ve got’? Like you’ve got so much down there?”

Giselle’s nostrils flared, her muscles beginning to ache as she held her position over Lyla, her pelvis swaying just slightly from side to side like a cobra about to strike. “I’ve got all I need, honey,” she said huskily. “And I’ve got more than you from what I feel right now.”

“You’ve got nothing,” Lyla whispered as her pelvis squirmed underneath Giselle’s, shifting her clitoris microscopically against the redhead’s and causing Giselle’s eyes to blaze furiously. “If you think you have anything like what I’ve got you’re not feeling me right.”

“Then you show me,” Giselle growled, shoulder and back muscles beginning to crack with effort as she maneuvered her own pelvis to respond to the blonde’s shift, both women adjusting the angle at which two inch-long, aroused shafts met one another. Giselle shivered as she began to feel the length of Lyla’s clitoris begin to press against hers, sliding slowly in parallel motion against her own throbbing weapon in a movement that traversed barely the length of one of her fingernails, yet one that sent shockwaves of arousal shattering up and down across her back and buttocks, radiating into her tits and nipples as they nestled against Lyla’s. “Come on, bitch,” she continued breathlessly. “You show me.”

“You want to fight?” Lyla breathed, placing her hand in the small of Giselle’s back as she began to urge their squirming hips closer together. “This the way you really want to fight, you goddamn gutter trash?”

Giselle lowered her forehead onto Lyla’s, her eyes blazing into the blonde’s as her mouth stretched into a sneer against Lyla’s. “You big, cheap pussy,” she murmured, breathing in Lyla’s hot breath. “I’ll fight you like this…I’ll fight you all night like this, right here in the dirt if that’s how you want it.”

“I’ll fight your big pussy right back, you ginger cunt,” Lyla moaned as her mouth met Giselle’s. “You just put that stiff thing of yours up against mine if you really dare and I’ll whip it off.”

“And I’ll whip yours until you burst you blonde, boob-sucking bitch,” Giselle growled. Unable to stand it any further, Giselle’s glistening derriere twitched, her two powerful gluteal muscles clenching as she jammed her pussy and its hardened, tingling clitoris down against Lyla’s and instantly felt the blonde’s muscular pelvis buck and jam its own hard little weapon directly into Giselle’s.

Both women emitted a high-pitched, keening cry as their muscles locked, each yanking hair and gripping one another’s bodies in a rock-hard death hold as they began to stroke in long, gouging attacks, each scouring her clitoris up and down the other’s labial folds before jamming it headlong into its pink adversary, bending and tangling the most vulnerable and sensitive part of her body against her enemy’s in a shattering contest of arousal, stamina, cruelty and lust. Giselle’s mouth found Lyla’s, her tongue mirroring the sensual assault of their two tangling clitorises as it clashed with Lyla’s, both women’s bodies smacking, grinding and crushing as they thrashed in the warm grass and dirt, Lyla’s body briefly mounting and pinning Giselle’s and jamming swift, powerful strokes into her clitoris and cunt before Giselle managed to regain her superior position and pound downward into the blonde’s steaming, golden furred pussy and its defiantly stiff clitoris.

All of Giselle’s long-simmering hatred, all her pent-up lust and sexual frustration seemed to explode in a wildfire of furious arousal and vengeance as she tested the stiffness and endurance of her clitoris against Lyla’s. She had long imagined slapping the blonde, tearing at her hair, maybe even tearing off her clothes, but nothing like this brutal, dangerously intimate endurance test had ever crossed her mind. And yet as the struggle continued it was suddenly clear that no other method of settling the animas between her and the blonde could possibly satisfy her now. She had to defeat Lyla Clanton’s clitoris with her own.

“You big, stiff bitch,” the blonde managed to pant into Giselle’s ear as the two women rolled, bodies plastered together with sweat and musk, squirming in the grass.

“You hard little blonde whore,” Giselle snarled back against her. “I swear I’ll break you tonight.”

“I’m going to grind yours down to nothing,” Lyla promised as the two women exchanged long, angry moans, panting as they squirmed and stroked into one another. “You’re nothing but a ginger pussy and I’ll have my way with you and that weak nothing between your legs…bitch!”

The blonde’s last word was a desperate grunt and Giselle felt herself answering it as her body twitched uncontrollably against Lyla’s. “Trash!” she gasped. “Big…tough blonde pussy!”

“Cunt!” Lyla gasped. “You big hot cunt!”

Giselle felt herself losing control, jamming her clitoris in fierce, angry strokes down onto Lyla’s until she finally felt the blonde’s stiff little shaft beginning to soften, giving way to her own still hard sexual weapon’s friction and erectness, her body thrashing on top of the blonde’s, splattering sweat and water droplets everywhere until she finally felt the explosion of erotic energy subsiding and her body bearing down heavily, helplessly on top of the blonde’s.

“Bitch,” she panted, “You bitch…”

“Ginger whore…” Lyla whispered underneath her as the redhead’s flesh softened and sagged downward, her breasts nestling against Lyla’s, sweat pouring off the two soft, creamy globes, pouring off Giselle’s flanks and thighs to pool and drip down Lyla Clanton’s tawny, exhausted body.

“Get off my land,” the redhead panted softly as the blonde moaned helplessly underneath her. “When I get off you…you get off my land.”

The End

Anubisx can tell things about Petri , collaborate

Hot! Hot! Hot! I love the intensity and theme of water between the two.

All of M. Petri’s stories are available on amazon and various sites. He is friends with AnubisX and will be releasing a new story potentially next month. Some of my favorites are Ab Batle and Fire and Ice, but they are all great.

Hello friends,
I own all of Petri's work and it is very reminiscent
of Morton.Thereore,if you enjoyed Hellcats,you should
read his other books as well.

I also recommend reading Julia Vargas and Caitlyn Norrell.Their works can be found on Amazon.

I have read it sometime before. I liked it very much. I re-read it and I dare to say that this time i liked it even more !

I do not know if M. Petri is Morton or not. It is not so important for me.
Important for me is that this story is one of the hottest erotic stories I have ever read !! And... I have read HUNDREDS !!

Of course my personal taste speaks. Especially about the many trash talking lines the two women exchange all the time.
As you know personal taste means that I love a particular detail of a story while someone else hates that particular detail.

- - - Updated - - -

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Gillius

Hello friends,
I own all of Petri's work and it is very reminiscent
of Morton.Thereore,if you enjoyed Hellcats,you should
read his other books as well.

I also recommend reading Julia Vargas and Caitlyn Norrell.Their works can be found on Amazon.

---

REPLY of GIANNIS :

I love both these writers.

I have read all the sexfight stories of Julia Vargas (Megan Larson is a nick name she also uses when she sells stories in Amazon).
She is member of this board as well, but she does not visit it often. As Julia Vargas she mostly writes catfight/titfight stories. As Megan Larson she writes sexfight stories. I like all her sexfight stories and I mostly loved "Forbidden Lust Hotel" (a saga of many chapters) and "Closer than ever".

I have also read Caitlyn Norell. Not all her stories but some of them. I liked them very much as well. Particularly the "Last Woman standing" is probably her best sexfight story for my taste.

This is one of my favourite Petri's story! And yeah, we collaborate very often, which is a pleasure and a source of pride for me, because he's a great writer and I learn a lot from his style.