Serial Stories: “I’m Player One” – Part 2

To Read Part 1, Click Here!

Preamble:

The second part of this tale, and the first post of my serialized stories.

Let me know what you think in the comments section below!

But remember, not every story is going to hit your specific trigger — so if your response is “mAkE tHeM pUncH eAcH oThEr aNd sTuFf”, maybe ssHHhHHHHhhhH.

Encircled though Steph’s mouth and nose were, by her roommate’s soft, alabaster breasts, still could she see through her thick, black rimmed glasses. Glasses which smudged and fogged as the thick-bodied beauties’ battle began.

A sight that lead to a realization, and then an audible “oops” from Julie, as she took an arm from her near strengthless, neck-anchored bearhug, and then with a bent-in hand, removed the sexy pair of spectacles which framed Steph’s crystal brown eyes.

Kind though that act of removal was, at the very moment those glasses were set safely aside with a gentle, distance-clearing toss, Steph pounced. Driving herself, and Julie thereafter forward and into a comfy crash on the game-character themed pillows scattered in front of the television.

A landing without force that still placed the redhead on her back and the brunette she wrestled above her. A brunette who found herself free of the smother she had been in and able to crawl forward and then linger. Her shorter-than-short black booty shorts riding high between her hungry thighs, just as her black, yellow-star emblazoned, mario-themed t-shirt clung tight to her tits. Tits which bobbed and bounced just above Julie’s. The former keeping to her knees, as on all-fours, she hovered above her roommate.

“You COULD just give up, and let me be player one.” The brunette reminded cutely, her expression making clear the teasing nature of her words.

Words which compelled the legs of the girl beneath her to lift, wrap, and then lock at the ankles behind Steph’s lower back. Not in a squeezing leg scissor, but almost in a claiming.

One that came not alone, for with it, the redhead lifted her left arm, and then after burying the digits at its end in Steph’s hair, pulled down. She bringing her unspoken crush’s face just before hers as she replied.

“Do you want this to end…?” The words might read desperate, but instead they were knowing. Confident. And dripping with a quickly growing certainty that not only did she want Steph, but that Steph wanted her.

A truth Steph betrayed not in part, but in full and then in fountain, as her fiery eyes dimmed if only for a moment. She fearing. Not that Julie was right, but instead that their little game might end and that with her words she had hastened as much.

A fear allayed as with a sudden surge, Julie, using that distraction, drove her upper body, on its left side, up and into Steph’s upper right. The impact, as gentle as it was, sending the two up and over, and switching their positions. So that she who had been on top was on bottom and vice versa.

Vice being very much on Julie’s mind thereafter as she then leaned down — leaned in, and then as she took two handfuls of Steph’s hair, whispered. “Pull my hair….”

The request was breathless. Unexpected. And yet it came with instructions, in more show than tell. In that as her softly spoken words traveled from dark red lips to highlighted-brown-hair obscured ear, Julie began to pull. Not cruelly, but hard. Not hatefully, but with passion.

The grip and the force of the redhead being quickly matched by her back-layed roommate. They, for no other reason than it was what they wanted, beginning to tug at hair and tighten together, as Julie dropped her body down, and then to the side of Steph. The thick, bare legs of the two twenty-somethings, as they laid on the carpeted floor of their shared apartment side-by-side, extending, wrapping, and then locking together as their foreheads sealed and nose-tips met.

At that moment, they were once again so very close to kissing. To having what they had wanted so feverishly not moments before. And yet, the pair denied themselves and each other. Even though they teased. Even though they bent in and dove close with their deviously puckered lips. Stopping as close as they could to their rival’s own calling and carnivorous pair. Each trying to tantalize and torment — offer and suggest.

That the other break first. That it be not they who would give into the temptation they shared.

Not because they hated. Not because their pride was too strong and their purposes too opposed. But instead, because it excited them. The thought of it. The intensity of it.

The search to see whose sexual will would break first, even as they clung body-to-body. Their heavy breasts pressed together between them as their brown and crimson hair layered together beneath them.

“Call me something dirty….” Steph suddenly asked as her eyes closed and body shivered with excitement.

“Bitch….” Without hesitation Julie said it. Uttered it. And when she did, Steph replied.

“Fuck….” The word shook and lingered in the air, as the brunette found herself overwhelmed. Overstimulated. And contrary to even her most illogical of whims, wanting more. So. Much. More.

1 thought on “Serial Stories: “I’m Player One” – Part 2

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

17 − 2 =

This Site is a Labor of Love, Set Up for the Benefit of the Fem Fight Community. No Money is Generated in Any Way From This Site or its Content.