Each of them were so confident. So brazen. So strong in will and want before their long-planned battle began.
Neither doubting for even a moment that it was they who would come out on top, and not the glaring other across from them.
That is until the two women in Derek’s life, his new wife and 18-year-old daughter first slide together — their legs spread wide.
Each of them daring.
And promising to break the other with their clit.
Until the moment those clits touch for the first time. A moment which seems to rob them of their confidence and drain them of their strength.
Leaving them to freeze, as their eyes close. Each whimpering gently and weakly.
Their hearts and minds, which a moment before had churned in anticipation and resolve, giving way to a sudden and seizing terror.
Neither certain anymore. Neither sure of the submission they had sworn to tear from the other’s lips.
No, as instead, they feel it. An orgasm ready and waiting to take them, if they were to move even once, let alone battle for the hours they had promised each other so foolishly in back-and-forth texts as Derek slept.
The taboo nature of it. Mother and daughter, step though they may be, mixing their already palpable sexual tension and unrepentant lust into something new. Something incredible. Something irresistible — even to a woman and a girl as strong as they.
And though that would be enough, the fact that the father of one and husband of the other doesn’t know of their tribulations and tribbing, makes their demand to battle even more dirty and intoxicating.
Intoxicating and weakening in the extreme.
Leaving the contrary pair stranded and trapped for one minute and then two. Two and then five, as each tries to find the strength within themselves to push on and forward. Their thighs crossed and clits affixed, though they dare not shift or shimmy — thrust or turn.
Until finally, and in unison, they try. Each rocking forward and into each other, if only barely.
The resulting collision causing them to moan out together, so loudly that they hear the sound of it come back to them from the hall and the furthest reaches of the house.
Their eyes opening and gazes connecting as they look to each other with expressions so beautifully meek and meager that they need not speak, ask, or beg. For it is known.
Slowly they must go.
Softly they must battle.
Until the exponentiated passions they feel for one another and their rivalry can be endured.
Until, in the mad pull of their newly found competition for control, they can last long enough to prove something. Prove anything. Even if it takes weeks. Months. Or even years….Recommend0 recommendationsPublished in