Boarding School Queen Series – Chapter 6: Rivalries Revisited by Ragnar0k

Part 1

The girls’ feet stamp on the floor vigorously as they tussle wildly, grunting and panting in the centre of the room. Loud, meaty slaps of tit striking tit ring out repeatedly as they thrust and parry with all the skill of championship fencers, each girl striving to create the opening she needs. Gritting her teeth, the tall, curvy blonde moves forward suddenly, launching a flurry of blows with her big swinging orbs. Her opponent gasps as her smaller but equally shapely breasts absorb the weight of the attack, shockwaves rippling through the abused titflesh. Before the brunette can recover and retaliate, the blonde grips her firmly by the shoulders, slamming their tits together with brutal force, repeating the same mantra her sparring partners heard many times before: “I – HATE – AMITA – KAUR!!”

The long autumn half-term was finally dragging to its conclusion and Amita noticed that most of the leaves had dropped from the ancient yew tree in the centre of the quad as she made her way there just before break time. The popular Sikh girl had been in a quandary lately and had arranged to meet Helen Brodie to seek her advice. Pulling her coat around her more closely against the chill she sat on a bench and waited for her friend.

Amita had never imagined that her hard-won victory over Susan Walkerburn in their first league encounter would leave her feeling as vexed as she was right now. A sensation amplified by her outrage on discovering Susan had instigated a whispering campaign against her lately. Although exasperated by her rival’s bitchy behaviour, deep down Amita could hardly blame her. For all that victory over Susan meant to her, it had signally failed to answer the crucial question that defined their rivalry above all else: which one of the two chestiest girls in the entire Sixth form was proud owner of indisputably the best rack? It was a question that still preoccupied Amita most days, and she was pretty sure must be preying on Susan’s mind too if the bitchy comments reported back to her were anything to go by.

She explained her thoughts and feelings as best she could when Helen turned up and the raven-haired girl sat pursing her lips for a moment, deep in thought. “Well, on a purely practical level, CATS rules don’t allow Susan the right to call a rematch until she’s fought through the next round of playoffs. And given your high position in the league, you really have nothing to gain and everything to lose if she goads you into accepting one at this stage.”

“I know,” Amita sighed. “But meanwhile she’s going around dissing me, reminding the other girls how her big tits dominated mine for much of the match.”

Helen looked searchingly into her friend’s eyes. “Come on, you got the victory – that’s the most important thing, surely?”

“Yes, I know!” Amita kicked a pebble across the quad. “But until I prove my tits against hers she’ll never shut up about it!”

Helen sympathised with her friend’s dilemma, but her eye remained on the bigger picture. “Look, for what it’s worth seems to me you’re more than capable of taking her tit to tit … I mean it’s not like hers have any natural advantage, is it? I just wouldn’t risk it right now.”

“I guess…” Amita sighed wistfully, her thoughts casting back unavoidably to the fight all over again. Although confident to take her chances in a rematch, the fact remained the blonde’s big orbs had dominated hers for much of their first match. That Susan had proven so adept at titfighting from the start had caused comment at the time, leading Helen Brodie to accuse Mhairi MacGregor of coaching her protégé in secret to ambush her opponent with her tits in what was fundamentally billed as a sexfight. Whatever the real reason, Amita remained happier to ascribe any imbalance between them during their first titfight to her rival’s superior grasp of tactics, rather than any inherent inferiority in the capabilities of her own breasts. And since then, she’d made damn sure to practice all the right moves to ensure that neither Susan, nor any other girl, would be allowed to get the drop on her big, proud boobs ever again.

With break time nearly over Helen cleared her throat to sum up. “Look, I understand how you must feel but Susan’s just being a bitch. You won fair and square last time – by the rules. Even though you seem curious still to match tits with her, you don’t owe her a rematch so try to forget about it till next term, okay? Assuming Susan makes it through the playoffs, then you can settle that burning question once and for all.”

“Wait till next term… hmm, I suppose you’re right.” But as they got up to go Amita still didn’t seem all that convinced.


Parting company with Helen outside Arts, Amita still had 5 minutes to kill and went into the loo, checking her hair quickly in the mirror before entering the first cubicle. Locking the door, she dropped her panties and had just squatted when the toilet door swung open and two girls walked in chatting.

“… so, everyone can see how my superior tits have literally got hers on the ropes now. That’s when the silly bitch panics…”

Oooh… what did she do about that?!”

Amita couldn’t identify the more softly spoken of the new arrivals, but her pulse raced at the sound of Susan Walkerburn’s slightly husky tones and she hurried to finish her pee as Susan gave a derisive snort. “Well, she abandons the titfight altogether. Turns it into a proper brawl, pulling my hair out by the roots… and more underhand stuff besides!”

“The cheating bitch! I’m surprised the judges didn’t declare it void after that!”

“Yes, and worst of it is she’s refusing a rematch!”

Amita had heard enough, her expression darkening as she wiped quickly.

“She must be running scared of your breasts …”

“Oh aye, mine’ll crush hers for sure next time we… eh?!”

Both girls turned around in surprise as Amita unlocked the cubicle door and stepped out, recognising Susan’s companion straight away as one of the more sycophantic beta types that hung around with Susan and Mhairi.

“Fuck are you two on about?” Amita said, her eyes preternaturally calm although the others could see she was already bunching her fists. The beta girl looked quickly from one to the other and gave an apologetic cough. “Better be off – byeee Susie!”

Ignoring her departure, Susan Walkerburn folded her arms beneath her breasts and stood her ground coolly. “Well, of course you’ll hear things you don’t like… if you’re going to go around spying on me in the loos.”

The Sikh girl exhaled in exasperation. “I wasn’t spying, I was peeing! Besides, you’ve no business calling the result of our match into question. I won. Fair and square. End of.”

Now it was the blonde’s turn to raise her voice. “Don’t give me that ‘end of’! Not when we both know my rack practically owned yours the entire match!”

“Bitch, that’s such a lie!” Amita was shouting now, but her eyes showed a chink of doubt. “Besides, it wasn’t meant to be a breast battle as you know very well-”

“Pass it off how you like,” Susan interjected. “But like I said at the time, our tits still have unfinished business. Don’t you agree… bitch?”

But Amita wasn’t biting – at least not yet. “You know well as I do, rules say I don’t owe a rematch till you recover your ranking in the playoffs, period!”

“‘Rules say…’. Fine, hide behind the rules then – coward!”

“I’m no coward, BITCH!”

Susan smiled grimly. “How about proving it then – we can settle it with a titfight this very night, only in private. No judges, no seconds or witnesses. Just my breasts against your breasts, on the line, no funny stuff.”

Susan could see Amita’s mind was working and moved quickly to close the deal.

“We continue the fight without breaks until loser concedes with a total submission – and that means total, right? And, best of all, no one else needs know, so your precious place in the rankings remains untouched, whatever happens.”

Amita hesitated a moment longer before desire trumped any lingering doubts. “Fine, but if I do agree, how are we going to do this without bringing the whole school down on us? I mean it’s not like you and I could ever have a quiet tit battle together.”

The blonde’s grin confirmed she’d already thought of a solution to this. “Course, we’d soon attract an audience if we kicked off anywhere near the dorms. But what about the laundry? I happen to have… a copy of the spare key!”

Amita whistled – she had to admit her rival had identified the perfect location for a private fight. Situated in a separate annexe that was unoccupied at night, the laundry room was far enough away to ensure complete privacy once the teachers had begun to enforce the curfew. And the laundry room was always kept warm, while the linoleum floor was soft enough to cushion the inevitable falls.

Susan could barely believe her luck as Amita nodded her assent. “So, its agreed then. Just my rack against your rack in a very private match to finish what we started. Let’s meet there at 10.25 just before curfew. Wear your T-shirt and panties into the laundry – leave your other clothes outside.”

The blonde gave her rival a reappraising look. “Maybe you’re not so scared after all, but don’t be in any doubt – my tits will own yours by the end of the night.”

“I don’t think so,” Amita snapped back. “I’ve waited a long time for this, and I won’t let up even for a second – not until I’ve squeezed the life out of your fat jugs with my better rack.”

“Oooh, better not use all your best lines before our little tête-à-tête tonight!” Susan jibed. “Now, must dash – don’t be late!”

For all her bravado, the blonde left the room feeling a strange nervous sensation in the pit of her stomach even as she congratulated herself on how brilliantly she’d engineered the showdown that had been preying on her mind almost daily since her defeat.

“I won’t.” Amita shouted after Susan, feeling a sense of relief bordering on euphoria now that their long-anticipated titfight was finally going ahead. Left alone for a moment the Sikh girl reached inside her blouse, cupping and squeezing her heavy brown breasts gently, almost as if weighing up her chances of winning tonight.


A storm rolled in from the west during that night’s communal meal, grey clouds racing across the sky to deposit driving rain against the old window panes. Amita found she could hardly eat in any case, chasing her food around the plate with a fork without enthusiasm. She resisted the urge to tell Helen anything about what was going to be happening later and retired to her room early claiming she had a headache.

By 9.15 pm, Amita was lying on top of her bed dressed in the white T-shirt and black panties she’d chosen to wear that night. Her mind was racing, and she found it impossible to concentrate for more than a few moments on anything not related to her fight with Susan. With over an hour to go, Amita’s breasts were already becoming turgid, and the mere thought of that crucial first impact with Susan’s big jugs was making her nipples hard.

Resting her head on the pillow with a sigh, Amita began massaging one nipple gently between thumb and forefinger while her other hand strayed automatically to her crotch. The fact she was damp down there didn’t really come as a surprise. Slipping her fingers inside her panties, she began stroking rhythmically, parting the thick pubes until her fingertips could reach her moist, fleshy labial lips. Letting out a deeper sigh, Amita began pleasuring herself while concentrating her mind’s eye on what her own breasts were going to do to their inferior rivals.

Susan arrived at the chosen venue a few minutes before the appointed time and, after checking the coast was clear, stripped down to her light grey T-shirt over white panties before padding barefoot into the laundry room. The place was exactly as she’d hoped she’d find it, warm, clean and softly lit once she’d worked out how to switch only the side lamps on. Susan wheeled the massive deep bins full of dirty laundry to one side to create a space in the centre big enough for the two girls to fight in, then padded the surrounding table tops with folded clean linen to cushion them from any falls. Standing back to admire her handiwork briefly, Susan imagined how hilarious it would be if they toppled and fell inside one of the laundry bins while fighting.

Although the room was warm and humid the blonde felt a shiver run down her spine as she wondered what her exacting, tit goddess mother would make of all this. She hadn’t felt able to confess even to her earlier defeat, but victory tonight would expunge her shame and put her back on the high pedestal that Sharon Walkerburn kept burnishing for her.

Looking down as she continued pacing the room, Susan saw her thick nipples tenting the T-shirt material. She was more than desperate to start, and her breasts had certainly got the message, swelling to almost their full fighting size already. Just like Amita, she’d been unable to resist servicing herself during the long hours of waiting, and the fingers of her right hand smelled strongly of pussy musk. Having a sudden thought, she lifted her T-shirt and smeared the scent liberally across her nipples. That’ll let the bitch know who she’s fighting. Now, where the fuck is she?

A moment later she felt a blast of cold air as Amita entered the room, dark brown eyes acknowledging Susan coldly as she shut the door carefully behind her.

“I thought you weren’t going to show,” the blonde jibed, mostly to mask her own state of nervous excitement.

The Sikh girl’s reply was steady and controlled. “Actually, you were early. I’m dead on time.”

Noticing the key was still in the lock where Susan had left it, Amita locked the door purposefully behind her and turned to face her rival. So, this is it she thought, her eyes feasting on her rival’s voluptuous frame clad only in tight grey T-shirt and white panties, taking in as much detail as she could without ogling her opponent. The blonde was eyeing Amita up simultaneously, noting how those big tits stretched her white T-shirt; the big, dark areoles visible, long, thick nipples almost poking through the thin material.

“So, here we are.” said Amita, pacing forward slowly until they stood no more than four short paces apart.

“Yes, here we are,” agreed Susan.

“I’m thinking we should reconfirm the ground rules first.” Amita said casually, as if they were about to discuss the weather.

“Right!” Susan’s response rang out louder than intended in the quiet stillness of the laundry and she lowered her voice. “So just remember, this is all about tits.”

“I know it’s about tits.”

“That means we can only use limbs to hold or restrain, not to damage or interfere with the tit battle in any way.”

“Agreed. And that also means we don’t let our pussies get in the way either?”

Susan thought about that one for a moment. “Well, let’s be realistic: they’re bound to come into contact in a close clinch, even if they just brush together.”

“I agree. Then let’s agree to no overt tribbing to weaken your opponent then.”

“I think that works.”

“Ok, then let’s do this.”

Susan held her hand up like a traffic cop. “What about victory conditions?”

Amita looked slightly puzzled. “I thought that was settled: fight continues without breaks until loser concedes. Only a total, unconditional submission by one of us can end this.”

“And afterwards…” Susan added.


Susan’s tone was blunter now, suspecting her rival might be mocking her. “You’ve studied the form book in these matters – so you must know ‘to the victor belongs the spoils’.”

“Oh, that?” Amita dead-panned. “Well, I’m looking forward to a good face-sitting soon if that’s what you’re on about.”

“And I’m looking forward to making you eat those very words and my pussy – after my big tits destroy yours!” Susan growled, pulling her T-shirt over her head and throwing it aside in one clean motion, letting her pendulous orbs bounce free.

Staring at her rival’s voluminous teats undulating and swaying as they settled down on her chest, Amita felt her mouth go dry. Big, fleshy, firm white tits looking even more dangerous than she remembered. Large pink areolae topped by those long, thick nipples that had come so close to defeating her own before. Realising her expression betrayed her surprise the Sikh girl quickly assumed her poker face. Too late: Susan had a predatory smirk as she cupped her breasts in both hands.

“That’s right, bitch. Take good look. These big girls are going to enjoy flattening your little brown softies.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Amita snapped. “You haven’t seen what you’re up against yet.”

When the Sikh girl removed her top in turn, it was the blonde’s turn to feel overawed by the expanse of heavyweight flesh swinging free. Cupping her assets as Susan had, Amita flaunted full brown breasts every bit as large and pendulous as Susan’s whiteys, topped with those long, firm nipples protruding from dark brown areolae that were fully an inch and a half across. Having been granted the opportunity to compare their naked racks close-up, minor yet perceptible differences came up that neither girl had appreciated before: how Amita’s breasts jutted out in a slightly more pronounced way than the Susan’s, with the blonde’s pair appearing to be marginally rounder and fuller than her opponent’s. How these small differences would translate into battle-worthiness was anyone’s guess however. What both girls understood would prove decisive in this battle was whose tits were meatier and tougher, whose nipples were harder, who possessed the higher pain threshold and who had greater staying power: in short, whose rack was best.

None of this could be determined until their rapidly swelling boobs had been blooded in battle and both girls were growing anxious to start before their pre-fight nerves got any worse. Amita reached down first and hooked her fingers in her panties, shimmying out of them. Susan was nearly as surprised as she’d been by her opponent’s bush first time round. She knew Sikh women weren’t meant to shave in any case, but Amita’s pubis seemed exceptionally well-endowed with an impenetrable dark bush that obscured her vulva completely from Susan’s viewing angle. Not to be outdone, the blonde removed her panties just as nimbly revealing a golden-brown bush that was as hirsute as any blonde could expect to be, although clearly no match for Amita’s in the hairiness stakes.

Both girls were steeling themselves, getting ready to rush when Susan saw Amita pause as if she’d just remembered something. The Sikh girl’s hand went to her groin and she rummaged under her pubes before bringing it back up, smearing her glistening fingers across her breasts just as Susan had earlier.

“Want to call it, bitch?” Amita hissed, eyes narrowing dangerously.

“Now!” Susan shouted back, and suddenly they were charging forward at full pelt across the short distance of floor separating them.

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Part 2

Eyes full of calculating enmity Amita and Susan closed the gap between them in long strides, heavy breasts swaying. Accelerating at the last moment, they braced while aiming their big orbs to meet head on. There was an almighty slap and the force of impact sent them reeling back in shock. But they pressed forward again immediately, gasping with anticipation now battle had been joined.

“Let’s see what you’ve really got then!”

“More than you can handle, bitch!”

Gripping each other by the shoulders, they began clapping their pendulous tits together, grunting with each heavy impact. A sustained flurry of vicious smacks ensued as they fought to dominate from the get-go; each determined to win outright in this opening skirmish. Their big mammaries made a beguiling contrast as they slammed together: Amita’s cinnamon brown flesh surging against the creamy pink skin of Susan; opposing citadels of pink and brown nipples and areolae compressing together sensuously under each powerful blow. But as the loud slaps began to echo in the room both girls knew that complexion alone would not make the difference in this fight. In fact, the more their fleshy udders crushed and spread against each other, the greater the resistance became, as their tumescence increased in response to the force of the blows, and the girls’ growing arousal.

The female breast contains varying proportions of adipose fat that give it size, sturdy connective tissue and ligaments that give shape, and the miraculous glandular structures that produce breast milk itself. As the ratio of these complex structures determines the density and firmness of the breast, repetitive attacks on the integrity of these tissues would surely accelerate the failure of one girl’s mammaries against the other’s, especially as no two breasts can be exactly alike in composition. But, with both racks holding up to the beating they were taking equally well, only time would tell which one could absorb more punishment before capitulating.

Susan and Amita could already feel myriad sensitive nerve endings sounding the alarm as they slammed their boobs together and they both began to fight more tactically: timing their thrusts and using the inertia of their heavy breasts to attempt more accurate strikes; aiming to hit sideways into the more vulnerable flanks and undersides in addition to slapping together head on. Amita managed to force Susan back first in this way, timing a stinging jab into her rival’s left teat as it overshot. The blonde gasped, reeling back as shock waves rippling through her dense titmeat before shaking her head angrily and flinging herself back into the attack. Soon it was Amita’s turn to backpedal as Susan’s big jugs delivered mighty uppercuts to the vulnerable undersides of her breasts.

Standing toe to toe, the girls gasped and groaned while exchanging the odd swearword as they thrust and parried with their big jugs, saving most energy for the fight itself. Although every blow caused discomfort, due to the amount of adrenaline their young bodies were producing they had yet to experience the full pain that would come later. But the realisation there would be no early knock-out blow in this contest of equals was rapidly sinking in. Susan’s hopes of dominating her rival in the early stages proved unfounded. And, although wary of her opponent after their last outing, so far Amita was showing a tactical fighting skill at least equal to if not better than the blonde’s tonight.

Sensing a lock-up might be more to her advantage, Susan moved quickly to pull her rival into a clinch. “Hope you enjoy being crushed…”

“Bring it on…” hissed Amita, who could hardly wait, and for a tense moment they struggled to position their rolling udders to best advantage while strong arms fought to pull each other in. Anxious shivers ran down each girl’s spine, feeling those hot, sticky mounds of rival flesh push threateningly into her own. Both racks felt tumescent and sweaty as they pressed together, and the musk smeared across them was more intense now they were fighting close-in.

As the girls tussled Susan fought to keep her long nipples and Amita’s aligned. The blonde’s hard nips had famously ground their dark rivals to orgasm during the first match, and the blonde hoped they would repeat the prodigious feat again tonight. The thought made her intensely wet and excited as she tightened her grip. However, Amita knew what she was up against and welcomed the challenge, feeling her thick labia tightening with arousal at the prospect of a torrid nipple duel.

Snarling at each other they pushed closer until they were nose to nose, forehead pressed against forehead, blazing eyes locked together. Then both girls shuddered and moaned as they began squeezing and grinding simultaneously, feeling something like a jolt of electricity pass between them as their nipples scraped tip to tip before burrowing deep into the surrounding flesh. Straining titmeat bulged as each girl arched her body while thrusting and squeezing, feeling sudden, powerful sensations as their big areolae suckled ferociously on each other amidst all the quivering flesh.

Throwing her head back and moaning as Susan’s long, thick nipples hooked with her own, Amita felt pussy juice trailing down her inner thigh and involuntarily shifted her stance, bracing her swollen pubis against her rival’s equally prominent mound. As their crotches bumped and scraped, the girls became acutely aware of their engorged pussies, hovering beneath sweaty, bushes, dripping labial lips barely an inch apart.

But neither could afford to ignore the erotic breast battle for a moment: with thick nipples gouging, areolae sucking together hard, and powerful pheromones being unleashed, each girl was convinced her rival’s lactation must be well advanced and became single-minded in her determination to capitalize on this.

Heightened erotic pressure was indeed stimulating both Susan and Amita’s milk glands to start producing, and both girls could feel something going on deep inside the structures of their opposing breasts. Upping the pace, they tit-wrestled furiously, gasping sensually as each throbbing, painfully overstimulated breast spread against its firm, equally dense rival. Meanwhile their nipples competed viciously, locked inside the voluminous mounds of competing titflesh.

“Ohhhh…. Jeeezzz!”


Just as Susan began to experience a peculiar, yet all too familiar sensation welling deep inside it seemed that Amita felt something stirring within her too. As their bodies reacted rapidly they became aware of each other’s laboured breathing, the pulses in their breasts throbbing faster and seeming almost to synchronise. Hoping to throw her opponent off her stride, Susan pulled her tits back unexpectedly, releasing some tension before driving them hard into Amita’s again. The dark-haired girl gasped as her foe’s thick nipples speared her own and Susan sensed the unmissable opportunity to prove her dominance once and for all, by driving her rival’s big nips all the way back into her brown breasts.

Amita’s eyes widened as Susan’s thick pink cylinders began pressing into her own with unrelenting force, feeling a shocking and numbing tightness at the base of her nipples unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. “Nooo!” she shouted out, but in her frantic confusion the word came out in Punjabi. Both girl’s sweat-sheened backs were arching in pain as Susan began slight rolling movements with her big udders in a supreme effort to corkscrew Amita’s straining nips deeper into her chest. But the defiant Sikh girl was already beginning to rally. Gritting her teeth against the pain she was tensing and flexing the strong pectoral muscles underlying her breasts, working the ligaments and structures supporting her strong nipples to the utmost as she began to force the blonde back. Now it was the turn of Susan’s nipples to come under intense pressure as the rival pairs struggled to bend each other back. Just when it seemed that Amita was gaining, the weight of dense orbs pressing in finally forced their nipples apart.

The nipple duel may have ended inconclusively but it seemed to spur other biological processes along and both girls’ heads went back open-mouthed as they intensified the up-and-down rubbing of their swollen breasts; fighting desperately to stimulate their opponent to express first. For Amita it brought back stark memories of the time a nipple orgasm was forced on her in their first match. This time however, she calculated she had a better than even chance against Susan.

Growing steadily wetter from their pussies as well as their leaking jugs, the rivals continued to grind against each other, dizzy from the intoxicating mix of pleasure and pain in their overstimulated breasts. Both girls gasped, feeling a warm sensual surge stretching from deep inside the breasts all the way down to their loins and back up again. An instant later warm, milky cum spurted from Susan’s straining nipples followed by Amita’s in rapid succession; the creamy white liquid spattering their faces and running down all the tight spaces between their struggling breasts.

Part 3

Groaning in ecstasy as powerful hormone cocktails released by their mammary ejaculations aroused them while numbing the pain, Amita and Susan pressed in more urgently now; fighting to break the stalemate between the powerful rival pairs of lactating udders. As milky cum continued welling up their hot tits began to slip and slide, first one mighty rack then the other threatening to displace its rival amid all that sticky lubricant. Almost subconsciously they felt their slick thighs twining, drooling pussies so close now that their pubes constantly scraped and chafed, each opposing vulva feeling its rival’s heat. Meanwhile they continued kneading, rolling and crushing their expressing teats together, as if determined to drain each other of every drop of cum.

“Ohhhhhhhhhhh fuck…fuck… FUCK!” Susan squealed as her trapped udders came under exquisite pressure, causing another heavy surge of nipple-cum. The blonde’s head went back in anguish as Amita tightened her grip, working her big brown tits dangerously against the blonde’s straining rack. Then it was Amita’s turn to gasp in shock as Susan’s right breast bulged under her left, squeezing it upwards. Spread out of position, Amita’s big jugs jerked and strained as the blonde trapped them tight against her mighty orbs, pumping and kneading them in tight, controlling circles.

“Ahhhh… uuuuhhhh… ahh …. shiiiiitt!”

“Now can you feel me… draining your fat fuckers… bitch?”

Susan flexed her pale tits against Amita’s again, and this time the Sikh girl really felt it, her mind in a growing state of turmoil as renewed sensory shocks to her embattled areolae flooded her breasts with more hormones, triggering her turgid glands to erupt forcibly all over again.

“Ohhhhhhhhh…yes… YES!” Susan groaned ecstatically, sensing a crushing victory over her bitter rival drawing much closer. But as the blonde warrior squeezed hard, the additional lubrication proved an unexpected boon to her writhing foe who managed to slide a trapped boob free. To Amita’s delight it was her dominant right, the larger of the two, and she pressed it back hard into the action, determined to reverse Susan’s short-lived advantage over her.

Heads thrown back in anguish, they resumed crushing and squeezing each other’s udders without mercy. Lower down, taut bellies smacked together wetly, and pubic mounds ground in opposition but this was all subsidiary to the breast battle above. As the tiring adversaries remained locked in an interminably long, orgasm-inducing squeeze, even the powerful hormones stimulating their youthful milk ducts were failing to keep up and the rate of flow from both prodigious sets of mammaries seemed in terminal decline. Both girls were feeling mighty drained. At the same time the pressure was quickly becoming intolerable.

Feeling as if her lungs were about to collapse Susan began coughing and gasping.

“Ohhhhhh shit… can’t breathe!”

“That a … submission?!”

“Nn-ooo… no fucking… way!”

“S-submit girl… before I milk your… flaccid bags dry!” Amita groaned, eyes screwed tightly shut. But in truth each girl knew she had reached her limit and could barely go on squeezing a second longer. Relaxing their grips as if by some unspoken agreement, they staggered apart and doubled up, gasping and coughing, too shattered and drained to speak or do anything else for the moment.

Straightening up, Susan stumbled back disorientated and settled her ample derrière on a nearby table top, cupping her dripping breasts as if they were delicate bone china that would shatter if dropped. Shaking her head, Amita staggered to a table opposite Susan and immediately began checking her breasts for battle damage. Warm cum still ran off their heaving tits and down their glistening, sweat-sheened flanks. The floor where they had been fighting was awash with liquid.

The girls licked their wounds as best they could, gently massaging their breasts to get them back into some sort of shape for the next round. Both racks showed redness and damage and although they had swollen a cup size or two at the height of battle, the protracted milking and squeezing duel had left each individual breast more perceptibly flaccid and saggy than either had seen of her own or her rival’s racks before. This uncommon state seemed merely to accentuate the more pronounced way Amita’s jutted out, giving her pendulous brown melons a leaner, slightly upturned profile compared to Susan’s, more rounded, hanging orbs.

“Bet you never imagined your tits looking so sad, red and miserable when you woke up this morning,” Amita smiled grimly at her rival.

Susan coughed and spat hard before responding. “I’ll give you this much – you’re a tough bitch, but we both know my jugs are still stronger. It might take all night, but I’m going to take even more pleasure in crushing your weak tits like putty.”

“In your dreams… now I’ve got your measure and we both know these firm babes will flatten yours into submission.”

“I wouldn’t overrate your chances, girl,” the blonde smirked, shifting a hand down between her legs and stroking her damp pubes for a moment before opening wider and easing her labia apart, exposing her erect pink clit to Amita.

Amita laughed harshly. “Is that supposed to impress – or scare me?”

Cupping her left breast, she dropped her other hand down to her groin, stroking through and parting her mane of pubes until she found her throbbing clit too with a satisfied groan. “Remember what happened the last time these two ladies met?” Amita grinned, displaying the big, glistening head to her rival, reminding Susan of her victory in their previous sexfight.

Starting to massage her wet pussy in earnest Amita realised, as Susan had, that by keeping herself on a sexual high, the endorphins released would help reduce the throbbing pain in her breasts before the contest resumed. Each girl now watched her opponent’s lewd actions with a degree of curiosity while frigging herself steadily, aiming for maximum pain relief without necessarily working herself into a climax. It soon became apparent that the erotic sensations were helping to stimulate and revive their injured breasts which grew more tumescent again, the nipples hardening visibly. After a time, the shlock-shlock-shlocking sounds of pussy-fingering abated and raised eyebrows glances confirmed they were ready to resume.

The competing scents of milk, sweat, pussy musk and cum hung in the close air as Susan and Amita rose silently and padded back to the centre of the room eyeing each other warily but quietly relieved that the fight was upon them again. This time the Sikh attacked first with a defiant shout, cinnamon tits swinging as she pulled her rival in close so that their big, hanging udders slammed together with a weighty smack. Susan’s eyes flashed a challenge as she flung her breasts back hard against her opponent’s. “That still the best your saggy tits can do?” In reply, Amita swung a full mammary broadside at Susan’s rack furiously, once, twice and again, forcing her opponent to retreat several steps. “My saggy…? I’ll show you what my tits can do!” she hissed.

Sensing the fight entering a pivotal moment they leaped together as one, rising on their toes to collide with a resounding slap of titmeat. All hell broke loose now, as the naked rivals lunged at each other, driving their immense udders together in repeated violent collisions, bare feet scuffing and sliding across the polished floor. Both girl’s faces became distorted masks of pain and anger as their meaty flesh collided wetly, shaking and rippling across their chests. Almost every time the massive mammaries met head on, their taut, equally large nipples rubbed together; that intense contact keeping both girls sexually aroused, despite the pain, keeping them wet and excited as they battled and strained

For what seemed like hours but may have been only minutes, Susan and Amita stood toe to toe and beat their hanging breasts into each other relentlessly. In a battle of such huge, well-matched racks there is little way to tell whose breasts are slowly winning the battle. Infinitesimal differences in weight and structural strength can be more than offset by shrewd tactical awareness, and the confidence to meet an opponent’s most violent efforts with equal or greater force. But gradually, after a time, Amita’s big jugs seemed to drive deeper into Susan’s heavy globes more often than the reverse was happening. Soon the dark-haired warrior was unleashing such well-timed frontal slams that she began to move Susan back a little with each blow. The blonde’s anxiety showed in her eyes as she was forced to parry her rival’s swinging attack once again before heaving her mighty jugs back in retaliation. She knew her opponent’s powerful teats held no advantage over hers in weight or size, yet they were severely testing the strength and resiliency of her own as the battle wore on. Get a grip girl! Susan told herself, gritting her teeth and drawing a mental line in the sand as she prepared to fight back with all her power and strength.

Planting her feet firmly, Susan angled her stance more and swung her throbbing udders forward and upwards with as much force as she could still muster, catching Amita’s swinging boobs mid-strike. The blow was as powerful as any landed that night eliciting drawn-out groans from both adversaries, but it rocked Amita more seriously and her dark jugs were forced apart, rippling and losing cohesion as the full weight and density of Susan’s ample globes slammed into them.
“Those underweight duds never really stood a chance against mine,” Susan hissed, pressing in and aiming another heavy blow before Amita could regroup. The Sikh girl gasped as the blonde’s solid breasts rammed and splayed hers again. Susan attacked again, swinging her breasts hard from left to right. Amita staggered as she took the brutal impact, but stepped into Susan, swinging back forcefully until she had regained her position. Once more, they settled into a rhythm of slamming their quivering, flowing breasts together, the sounds of hard slapping punctuated by echoing squeals of sharp pain dominating the otherwise quiet ambience of the room.

Feeling she might have just had a lucky escape, Amita soon took the opportunity to circle Susan with her arms, pulling her rival in close as she struggled to gain control of the fight. Both girls groaned as their heavy tits slammed wetly with the force of battering rams. Amita had positioned her assets well this time but even so it was noticeable that both racks flattened by about the same.

“I’m going to squash those fat udders with my firmer tits,” Amita assured her rival, pulling the blonde deeper into her chest, both girls feeling just how slimed with sweat and cum residue their opposing racks had now become. “Bring it on then.” Leaning in to secure reciprocal holds they squeezed determinedly, sending their slippery opposing udders squirming and rolling across their chests.

Both girls struggled at first to gain traction until Amita surprised Susan, holding her opponent tight and twisting her torso, grinding her more elongated breasts into the blondes from the side. The instant she felt Amita’s teats digging in, Susan pivoted and pushed back the other way and for a moment neither seemed to gain the advantage. But the Sikh kept grinding the ends of her boobs, structurally their strongest part, against the sides of her rival’s orbs in almost a circular motion. Susan’s teats soon came under intense pressure and Amita felt a satisfying tremor beneath her boobs as they continued displacing her rival’s meaty glands.

Still locked in a tortured embrace, the girls sank slowly to their knees, Amita pivoting hard to crush her adversary’s teats; Susan twisting just as strenuously to ease the intolerable pressure. Amita knew it was her best chance by far of securing the submission she so desperately craved: if she could only force her big straining udders to skewer those quivering white teats completely she would soon have Susan Walkerburn at her mercy.

Part 4

“Unnnnnnnnnghhhh FUCK!” Susan moaned as the pressure on her big globes increased exponentially in her adversary’s crushing vice.

“Can’t take it huh…?” Amita gasped, enjoying the complex erotic sensations as her bulging cinnamon flesh ground her rival’s swollen meat until their hot, chafing skin felt impossibly tight.

“Unnhhh… I’ll take all you’ve got…and more…” Susan groaned. “… not over yet… not by a long way…”

Amita bit her lip hard. Painful as it was to admit, the blonde had a point: their racks were mashed as tightly as possible, yet Susan’s big udders were not flattening as quickly as she’d have liked to see happen. The reason was not especially hard to fathom: swollen from the constantly gorging on blood and hormones all four bloated battling udders felt much tauter now, and the astonishing surface tension created between them was now frustrating the Sikh girl’s best efforts to deliver a swift mammary coup de grace.

Susan too had divined the reason underlying her boobs additional resilience, and her lips curled in disdain as she steeled herself to launch a decisive counterattack. Arching her back and flexing strongly, the blonde immobilised their tortured orbs before wrenching sideways as forcefully as she could. Shrieks echoed off the walls as Amita fought back strongly, but the big blonde thrashed around frantically, wrenching her torso upwards in an almighty struggle until one big udder sucked free, breaking the hold.

Sobbing with relief as they pulled each other to their feet again, Susan wasted no time in pulling back to make space and driving her reprieved tits in again with venomous force. Amita groaned, feeling her dense flesh shudder as Susan caught her a mighty blow before she’d positioned her big breasts properly again. Closing in vengefully, the blonde unleashed one – two – three successive slams with her pendulous globes without allowing her rival’s rippling jugs time to recover.

“Agghh… noooo!” Shocked that her defence could fall into disarray so quickly, Amita backpedalled before the blonde’s big orbs could swing in again, holding Susan away at arm’s length to allow her tenderized boobs time to settle.

“Let go of me bitch… I want at your tits!” Susan tried to press forward aggressively, convinced she was on the threshold of delivering the knock-out blow to her opponent’s meaty glands.

“Don’t worry – there’s plenty here waiting for you!” Amita hissed, feeling much more composed again as she threw her big jugs back into the fray with renewed fury.

Loud, wet smacks rang out now as the girls traded more heavy slamming volleys, faces set grimly in their anxiety to finish each other off before the growing soreness in their boobs overwhelmed them. But with neither backing down after the initial flurry the pace slowed considerably, as the pain and exhaustion that had been stalking them arrived with a vengeance. Panting and shaking, they leaned in, resting chins on each other’s shoulders, pendulous battle-hardened breasts pressing close but numbed temporarily with pain and hardly engaging.

“Oh jeez…”


“We… need… to… finish this…”

Their low hanging udders swayed together, and they gasped feeling the turgid nipples crusted with orgasm residue brushing. The girls’ long shafts had rubbed and spiked each other repeatedly during the battle but had yet to go head to head in a decisive battle. Feeling their nipples tighten with a new sense of urgency, the girls juiced up at the prospect of locking powerful teats in an effort to break the deadlock. Amita’s big dark nipples protruded from brown areolae an inch and a half in diameter; Susan’s large pink areolae gave away nothing to her rival’s in size and her nipples were also impressively long and thick; both knew that in size and firmness they were incredibly well-matched.

“Hhhn…match nipples with me bitch…”

“Bring it on slut… my hard babies will crush yours!”

Glazed eyes met as they compressed their tits together again, content to let each hard nub rake and torment the other’s sensitive breast meat in foreplay for a few moments longer before squirming round to let their aching nipples find each other.

“Yes, bring your nipples to mine bitch!” Susan gasped as their sensitive nipple tips latched, feeling lust and loathing for her rival in equal measure, but aching most of all to conquer the dark fleshy udders that had resisted her own imposing globes for far too long.
“I’ll wreck your fucking nipples!” Eyes blazing with lustful hunger, Amita was consumed now with hunger and desire to feel her powerful breasts destroy her rival’s big pale orbs.

Their breath came in short expectant gasps as they pulled back fighting to line up, then drove their erect nipples straight into each other with brutal force. Both girls shuddered and moaned as the rigid cylinders bored in while their taut breasts flattened and compressed. Moaning sensually Susan threw back her head and squeezed, biceps and pectorals tensing hard, fighting to corkscrew her broad nubs deeper into her rival’s thick shafts. Amita shuddered and gasped, long dark hair flowing behind as she flexed powerfully in response, meeting her blonde foe’s grinding thrusts with equal force.

Amita and Susan staggered back and forth, mashing their big tits as tightly as they could while concentrating on holding the throbbing shafts together for as long as possible. Powerful, complex sensations speared deep into their quivering breasts as each thick nipple strained to pin its opposite number deep inside its own areola. Both girls now felt dauntingly heavy pressure beneath the taut surfaces of their breasts as the complex internal structures struggled to take the strain. The strong connective tissue, milk glands, and shock absorbent adipose layers were compressing massively while the underlying pectoral and intercostal muscles fought to push back before being overwhelmed.

With their teats lubricating again rapidly, and sensitive areolae stretched tight and sucking to each other Amita and Susan began to moan deeply, and it wasn’t long before thighs pressed automatically into opposing crotches, and wet pussies began sliding up and down on glistening skin.

Still working their bodies together rhythmically in a tight embrace they felt the long hard nipples slip off each other gouging their sensitive areolae and fell groaning to their knees, streams of hot sweat running down their backs.

“Oh my god….”

“Shit… dirty… whore!” Amita gasped, thrusting her body against Susan’s again only to be met with equal determined force as they collapsed to the floor, broad butt cheeks slapping wetly on the linoleum floor.

“Oh fuck….”

“Yes bitch…”

There was no holding back any more: rich, feral odours of soaked hungry pussies wafting up to create an unbearable sexual tension between them as they opened their glistening thighs to one another.

Trembling with spiteful passion, Susan swung her big globes round aggressively, her pelvis angled to bring her big golden mound down hard on her rival’s dark, hairy mons. Amita threw herself forward as the attack came, grimacing as her bulging pubis crushed against its rival and the blonde’s hefty orbs slammed into her own jugs with painful momentum. Susan moved in fast again, gripping her foe in a tight and powerful bear hug with predatory zeal. Not prepared to give up any advantage to her rival Amita moved quickly to reciprocate the hold, and the girls locked up in a venomous battle for control that neither could afford to lose.

Mewling with violent lust, they tightened their holds and drove their powerful nipples together while using the power and weight of their thighs and ample, fleshy butts to grind their hungry opposing vulvas together.

Flinging their heads back as the pressure on duelling nipples and trapped breasts increased, they ground their crotches harder, sobbing with animal pleasure as their big, juicy labial lips forced through the tangled mass of pubes to spread wetly against each other.

“Ohhhh…. ohhh… fuck!”

“Uhhhh… unnnnhhh… yes!”

Seconds turned to minutes as the two bustiest arch-rivals of the Sixth Form swayed together, locked in a fearsome struggle to overpower each other physically and now sexually as well.

“Ahhhhh… fuck you… bitch!” Amita groaned as they continued driving their dripping pussies forward, feeling them spread wide together as each girl fought to gain the superior cunt grip. The Sikh girl squeezed hard with her pelvic muscles, feeling her strong pussy sucking and pulling on Susan’s without gaining all the purchase she needed and craved. Both girls moaned deeply, feeling their powerful throbbing clits begin to rub and grind as they emerged from their protective hoods.

“Huuuhhh… you’re the one… getting… fucked!” Susan gasped, drool appearing at the corner of her mouth as their nipples competed viciously, locked deep inside those quivering mounds of compressing tit flesh.

Locking each other with glazed, impenetrable stares, Amita and Susan pushed into each other breast to breast until the strain became almost impossible to bear. The wanton stimulation caused by the intolerable pressure spread from their battling nipples coursing deeply through their swollen tits and all the way down to their pussies, making their clits feel even more tumescent in response. And as their clits banged away together, the lewd sensory pulses travelled right back up through their tits again, hardening their abused nipples with each grinding stroke.

Both girls were slow to fathom what this unusual and exotic sexual phenomenon meant exactly, so focused were they on avoiding climaxing as they ground their hungry cunts together, for fear of losing the match in that way. But, as the cause and effect suddenly became too painfully obvious to ignore they began struggling frantically to match the rhythm of their powerful nipple thrusts to the frenetic pace of their banging clits.

Part 5

The struggle for physical and sexual dominance had entered its visceral endgame, and Amita and Susan had experienced nothing like this before, bodies trembling with pain and erotic tension as they fucked hard, swollen breasts crushing together, long, hard nipples spearing and straining to overcome each other.

Tightening her grip on Susan, Amita lunged with animal ferocity, fighting to crush and wrestle the big blonde to the ground where she stood a better chance of finishing her off. Forcing her clit powerfully against its rival, Amita pressed in hard with her tits, long dark nipples straining against the other girl’s thick shafts with the full weight of her big orbs behind them. Susan mewled desperately, her back arched in pain, and an intense shiver ran through them both as the blonde’s big, wet ass slid unexpectedly on the sex-slimed floor, handing Amita a priceless opportunity if only she could convert it.

Fighting to remain upright Susan felt her rival’s hot breath on her face and latched on desperately, pulling Amita into a savage, open-mouthed kiss. The dark-haired girl barely flinched, but it was enough to let the blonde back into the fight and they began to squirm together powerfully, hot saliva drooling down chins as their mouths and tongues wrestled for advantage. Rammed together hard, their sweaty bodies trembled and shuddered, straining cunts leaking copious sex juices that soaked their bushes, lathered slapping bellies, splashing the very undersides of their embattled low-hanging tits.

With her counterattack gathering pace Susan drove her big pale tits hard into Amita’s weighty orbs; both girls rising frantically on their haunches, feeling the weight and power of each taut sac pressing its powerful nipple forward in a supreme effort to overwhelm the rival shaft. Teetering on the edge of orgasm, Amita and Susan broke the kiss and threw their heads back, moaning as one. Swollen breasts quivering and straining, they felt enormous pressure building at the base of their engorged nipple shafts, which were embedded in each other just as powerfully as their spearing clits.

Sensing the advantage lay in breaking the oppressive rhythm of heavy squeezing and grinding Susan took a chance, wrenching her fucklips away from Amita’s with a wet sucking sound before ramming them in again hard. The dark-haired girl gasped as their throbbing clits detonated against each other, and simultaneously Susan thrust her stiff pink nips savagely into Amita’s brown ones. The moment of existential crisis had arrived, both girls rearing up frantically and battling to conquer one another’s undefeated breasts in a frenzied, last-ditch fling of the dice.

Time stood still as the busty rivals swayed together locked in fearsome struggle. Their swollen teats were crushed impossibly tight, four meaty orbs resisting each other in quivering tension, sharp nipples spearing and straining as never before. Pungent, intoxicating odours of sweat and sexual arousal rose in their flaring nostrils as they thrust forward powerfully again. There was a sudden flurry of action, a feverish pumping and straining of breasts, and then one of them exhaled a wounded cry.

With a low, animal growl Susan thrust her rigid nipples straight into Amita’s again with all her might… and this time the dark-haired girl emitted a deeper, more anguished moan, her beautiful, sweat-streaked face registering pain, shock and confusion.

“Yesss – oh fuck, YESSSS!!!!” Susan gasped, consolidating her hold over her rival with urgency and malicious intent. It had been a long while since either had uttered a single intelligible syllable, which made the blonde’s new note of fevered anticipation the more wounding to her rival. Amita didn’t waste her breath in reply: she was in a desperate position and when their glazed eyes met, it was clear both girls knew it. And they could feel it intimately too: deep inside the dense structures of their quivering breasts something unprecedented was happening, and the balance of power was shifting in favour of Susan’s mighty orbs – perhaps irrevocably so.

“What’s wrong, Amita…? The blonde moaned erotically as her rival braced strongly in a spirited attempt to win back the space lost against her big orbs. “Promised I’d… crush your inferior tits…didn’t I…? And… here we are…”

“Ohhh… fff-uck off bitch!!” Amita shouted, venting her anger and growing frustration. “You haven’t… won yet!”

“Yet…” Susan savoured the crucial word while tightening her grip on Amita with the zeal of a big cat cornering her wounded prey after an especially long and challenging hunt. Amita gasped and shuddered as the blonde flexed, sealing almost the entire surface area of their flattening inosculated breasts into one mighty erogenous zone. Both girls felt hot blood pulse faster in their breasts and loins as their aching, overburdened nipple shafts twisted and strained.

“Ahhhh… ahhhhhh… ohhhhhhhhh!”

“Unnnnnnnnn… oooooooohhhh! Fuck!”

Clenching her hot wet pussy tightly to Amita’s, the blonde thrashed and twisted violently, corkscrewing their big erect nipples together in a brazen attempt to end it. Amita’s dark eyes flashed in alarm, sweat pouring down her tortured face as she resisted for tense moments before emitting a piercing cry as the bases of her nipples gave way before Susan’s sturdy pink shafts.

With a howl of triumph, the blonde fell on her rival, pumping their titmeat together to deliver the coup de grace. It was a largely superfluous act as the other girl reeled in shock, her inverted teats sinking deeper into her quivering flesh.

“Oh, yes… feel that bitch!” Susan gave a final squeeze before pushing her rival away, watching her rival’s dark eyes roll back in her head as she collapsed on the floor.

Amita had absolutely no idea where she was for a split second. One moment Susan had been crushing her grievously, inflicting exquisite pain on her trapped nipples and breasts, and then the lights went out. Suddenly she was lying flat on her back with her nemesis straddling her, an insufferable gloating expression on the blonde’s flushed and sweaty face.

Feeling a surge of pain, Amita yearned to comfort her throbbing breasts and massage life back into her flaccid nipples. She tried shifting position, but Susan was firmly in control now, sitting heavily atop her belly, knees pinioning her arms firmly by her sides. Emphasising the massive gulf that had opened between them, Susan was stroking and massaging her big breasts freely, sighing gently as she examined them for battle damage.

“That was some titfight, eh?” The blonde’s tone was surprisingly breezy, as if they’d just concluded a lively, enjoyable game of tennis. “Shame your weak nipples weren’t up to it in the end though…”

Studying her rival through sullen, half-closed eyes Amita pressed her lips tight and said nothing. She wasn’t going to rise to the bait and give the nasty bitch even more to crow about.

“What’s wrong Amita? Never seen you all out of smart bitchy comments before. Just think, after all that build-up, anticipation, turns out my breasts were superior to yours all along… not that it comes as any surprise!”

Goading the other girl still further, Susan leant forward and began kneading the big cinnamon breasts prostrated beneath her. Gentle at first, the exploratory squeezes acquired more bite as the blonde’s fingers probed her rival’s supine fleshy structures more intimately for signs of weakness.

“Take your filthy hands off me!” Amita snarled, writhing and bucking but unable to shift Susan’s body weight off her.

“Oh, so there’s still fight left in her!”

“You’re full of shite,” Amita said acidly.

“Mind, I haven’t heard you repeat the best bit yet: Susan, you have such strong, firm, sexy boobs. My soft brown bags were just not up to it… against your amazing white set.”

Amita’s jaw was set, her eyes blazing with anger and defiance. “You never heard it… because I never submit to cocky bitches like you.”

Susan’s expression was deadly serious. “If you’re not submitting, then it’s not over. Sure you want to go through with this?”

“Surely I don’t need to repeat myself?” Amita’s gaze was set implacably.

“Fine, but you’ll regret it!”

Pain and exhaustion etched on her pretty face Susan felt almost at the end of her tether, but she was determined to finish it. The blonde gave an exhausted shrug and raised her pendulous orbs high in the air. Guessing what was coming Amita tensed, and a moment later the blonde’s heavy rack came plummeting down.

Susan fell on her rival hard, spreading Amita’s cinnamon boobs around on her chest with the force of a battering ram. Pressing in before they could recover, the blonde began crushing their massive glands together, grinding them agonisingly across their chests as she fought to take control. Their throbbing nipples scraped and gouged; Susan’s noticeably harder and more erect than Amita’s after winning their earlier battle.

Amita’s boobs quivered and strained as she fought back, working her arms free and locking them around Susan’s back in a crushing bearhug, pulling her adversary deeper into a melee of thrusting nipples and grinding tits. Susan groaned and set her jaw as her prey unexpectedly turned aggressor, welcoming the opportunity to speed her trajectory towards the prize still eluding her: the total subjugation of Amita Kaur’s magnificent tits.

Battling the force of gravity as well as her powerful opponent, Amita knew the chances of turning the tables on Susan at this stage remained slim but she was determined to go down fighting nevertheless. The formidable mass and firmness of her opponent’s jugs weighed cruelly on her straining chest, and if Susan kept simply crushing and grinding it seemed her big globes were destined to prevail.

Their thighs had twined automatically on entering the tit lock, and now the blonde’s hairy mons anchored itself firmly on her rival’s bushy mound, two sets of powerful fleshy fucklips straining to make intimate contact once more.

“Unnnnnnn fuck … got you girl…” Susan groaned as her straining pussy locked tight with Amita’s thick fucklips and she flexed aggressively, driving her meaty jugs hard into the opposing pair at the same time. Amita groaned deeply, head thrown back as her big teats began to loosen and displace, allowing her opponent’s surging breastmeat in to fill the gap. Sweat ran off their churning torsos and squirming tits as Susan tightened her hold , pussy squeezing and sucking on Amita’s inexorably as she began taking control.

“Aaaaaa… I can feel your tits yielding…. don’t be a stubborn bitch…!”


As the girls thrashed around wildly, Susan kept kneading and grinding, pushing her boobs in deeper and deeper, reveling in deep intimate sensations as Amita Kaur’s big breasts folded around her powerful globes in yielding submission. Amita was fading, struggles becoming weaker and more sluggish until she relaxed in Susan’s grip with a deep, congested sigh, head lolling listlessly.

Amita felt disorientated and realised she must have blacked out again briefly. The crushing pressure on her chest suddenly lifted and she opened her eyes in surprise, to find Susan still straddling her. Amita blinked and cast her eyes down quickly, unable to stomach her rival’s triumphal expression a moment longer.

Cupping her wounded rack tenderly, Susan observed Amita, wet thighs astride the big cinnamon breasts that lay uncharacteristically dormant and flaccid. Massively aroused in victory, the blonde was in no mood to be denied the spoils and she shifted forward until her dripping pussy hovered perilously to rival’s face.

“Now eat me, bitch,” Susan hissed.

“Are you kidding?”

“Do it! My tits won fair and square tonight. Besides you owe me for last time.”

“No fucking way!”

But even as Amita voiced her defiance Susan gripped her tightly by the hair, pulling her face into that gaping blonde twat.

“Eat me brown bitch, or I smother you!”

“N-no!” Face contorted in anger at the slur Amita tried to squirm her head away as she inhaled her rival’s powerful scent. “I’ll make you pay…mmnnnhhh!!…”

Susan felt incredibly deep erotic sensations as she smothered the other girl’s face in her big, wet pussy, effectively silencing all protest. The blonde’s ample ass cheeks pressed heavily into Amita’s chest, hampering her strenuous efforts to break free. Amita had never felt this dominated before, fighting for air as her face was submerged in the sticky folds of the other girl’s vulva. Pungent cunt juice invaded her mouth and nostrils as Susan began to squat thrust on top of her, grinding her hungry pussy over her sweaty upturned face.

On the verge of climaxing, Susan remained oblivious to the magnitude of her opponent’s wrath and couldn’t have anticipated what would come next. Howling in shock and disbelief the blonde leapt up and disengaged, scooting backwards across the floor in a state of disarray. Amita’s white teeth had finally found a useful angle and chowed down without warning, nipping into the sensitive flesh.

“You nasty, hateful little bitch!” Susan sobbed, examining her bitten pussy in outrage. Amita rolled over and raised herself up on one elbow still panting hard, dark venom in her eyes.

“That was never a part of the deal, slut. Don’t you ever try it again.”

“You’re just a sad, sorry loser!” the other girl retorted angrily.

Lapsing into silence Amita and Susan glared balefully at each other for long, tense moments, big wounded chests rising and falling heavily as they struggled to bring their breathing under control. Staring into each other’s vengeful, red-rimmed eyes something deep and primal passed between them, and they realised that though Susan’s powerful tits had claimed victory in the breast battle between them, the intense feminine rivalry that had brought them here tonight was anything but resolved.

The End

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