She was athletic and carefree, just like me. We lived on opposite ends of our little residential community in East Central Kansas. We played together since kindergarten. The community was rural but economically upscale. It was the prettiest part of the state – not pancake flat like the Western part. There were lakes and rolling hills, schools full of kids, team and individual sports, small-town festivals, church & theater productions, science fairs, and even more things to stimulate healthy young girls to grow into healthy young women.
She and I competed early and often. The science fair, the school play, the youth soccer league, the young homemaker’s baking contest, and the 4-H rallies all provided us opportunities for friendly competition. We both were very keen on winning. But the competition was friendly. We loved to match our skills against each other, laughing all the time but also trying desperately to be the first/best. No clear pattern emerged. She would win. I would win. After a little while, we stopped keeping an actual count. Every opportunity that came by for us to compete was enthusiastically embraced. We raced each other to the bus stop. We struggled earnestly to sell the most cookies for school fundraising. We competed to see who could turn in their term paper first. But through it all, we remained fast friends.
Finishing up high school gave us the opportunity for track and field competition. She was a good sprinter. I was a very good distance runner. But we both had natural athletic skills. Our bodies had developed in a way that pleased us both. She had strong, smooth legs, a tiny waist. So did I. She was developing a generous pair of breasts, even though it was later than some of our friends. This was also happening to me. She had beautiful blonde, wavy shoulder-length hair. Mine was shoulder-length black, straight, and smooth as silk. She had very noticeable, round, curvy hips. And so did I.
We could have been sisters, I guess. Our competition with each other on everything certainly fit that circumstance. We had sleep-overs. We went camping together. We were inseparable. Every time I won I beamed with joy. Every time I lost I smiled and hugged her. But secretly I cursed my luck and vowed to beat her the next time. When our senior year of high school came to a finish we were set to go different directions to college. It felt strange to both of us to contemplate being apart.
Then one warm August day I took a break from organizing my things to move and went out for a run. I set out on my familiar path through our neighborhood, across the local park, looping back through town, and finishing at the old ball field. I know this loop was approximately 3 miles. I just started out as I saw her coming around the schoolhouse in her jogging gear. She was out running the same route in the opposite direction. We stopped as we met and caught our breath. We relaxed our muscles and cooled down as talked.
“Fancy meeting you here”, I laughed.
“Yeah. I’m going to miss this next month”, she replied.
“Remember how we ran this route over and over getting ready for the regional meet last fall?”
“Yeah. I remember you were always coming in last in all our trial runs”, she grinned.
“Oh, I don’t think so. I seem to remember you finishing on my tail more than half the time”, I smirked at her.
“We can race right now and see for sure”, she taunted me.
“Careful. I’ll embarrass you on your last week here”, I scoffed.
“Well. I’ll tell you what. Let’s go over there behind the maintenance shed and you can see if you can best me in a fight. Perhaps you can win at something” she winked at me.
I was shocked at her words.
I tried to maintain my friendly face as I battled the nervous feeling rolling through my stomach. But owing to our lifelong competition, I answered quickly.
“Ha, ha. You had better watch what you ask for”.
“Come on chicken. It’s just you and me”, she replied with a glint in her eye.
“Alright, you’re on”, I said as we turned to walk the short distance behind the shed.
I couldn’t believe what was happening. On the one hand, this felt so wrong. On the other, it seemed pretty normal from two girls who competed at everything for years. When we arrived, she turned to face me and looked around.
“We should get started before someone sees us and pulls us apart”, she offered.
I blushed and felt the rush of adrenaline running through me. I tried to imagine how we would look to someone who felt they needed to pull us apart. And with no further fanfare, we came together, still sweating in our jogging clothes and put up our hands. Quickly we grabbed handfuls of hair and slapped our bodies together. We pulled each other closer with our free arm and began to shuffle our feet as we pushed for advantage.
I was amazed at the swift progression of these events. Barely 3 minutes ago we were having a friendly conversation on the jogging path. Now we were fighting behind the school’s athletic maintenance shed.
As we turned and pushed and struggled for balance, we exchanged body punches. The sensations going through my body were electrifying. My best friend and I were fighting. We had competed in everything our whole lives. And now we were competing with physical violence. This was probably the only competitive human activity that we hadn’t already done. It took only a few seconds before it started to feel like another normal way for us to compete. We settled into a rhythm of punching and jerking our hair which became faster and more savage. It was as if my body was catching fire. I began to enjoy the satisfying sensations of body contact and knowing I was punishing her.
Presently our legs tangled and we fell to the ground. Instantly we rolled over and over for top position. Our legs re-tangled and we stopped on our sides when neither of us could gain the advantage. We jerked our hair painfully and swung our fists into soft rib cages and also at each other’s head. And then in a flash, I heard shouting and felt strong hands pulling at my waist and arms. I was dragged by my feet. And in a minute we were cruelly dragged from each other by some burly school maintenance workers.
“Girls! Stop this. You can’t do this here. Don’t make us report this”, they admonished.
Our breathing slowly calmed down as we looked at each other while the two older men chastised us. We noticed our tangled hair and scratches on our arms and neck. But overall, the damage was minor and easily concealed. I remember mumbling something like, “I’m sorry. We’re going home”, as I shuffled off toward home. When I got to the street I had smoothed my hair and adjusted my clothes. But the maintenance worker’s words kept playing in my head.
“You can’t do this here”.
As if to say, “It’s normal and allowed for you girls to fight but don’t you know there are approved places for that?”
And the rush in my stomach began to return as I thought about she and I finishing what we started, . . . in an approved place,. . . to see who would win. The reason no longer mattered. And truthfully there was no reason for the fight in the first place. Now it was just competition. She and I loved to compete. It’s all we ever did. It seemed we’d found a new way to do it.
I got home and went straight up to my room. And as I entered, my phone was ringing. It was her.
“I told you I was afraid we’d be seen”, she said
“And we were just going good too. Well, — not so good for you maybe”, I taunted.
“Fuck you. I was winning. But if you really want to settle this, get over here. No one will be home for a few hours. We can see who’s better at fighting. Are you afraid?”, she teased.
“Fuck you”. You know I am not afraid. We were just fighting 10 minutes ago. Let’s continue”, I said
“Yes, let’s. I’m ready. Hurry up”, she urged.
“I’m already out my front door”, I replied.
“Good”, she answered as the line went dead.
As I walked, I thought of the one fight I had back in junior high school. It was a quick and wild battle of fists in the girls’ bathroom which probably lasted all of 30 seconds. I couldn’t remember ever seeing her fight more than maybe once as well. Neither of us was experienced in this. But it was a competition now. We knew how to compete.
Part 2 – At Home
As I made my way to her house I marveled at the last hour of my life. Now, after a whole life of friendship and friendly competition, she and I had gotten in a fight. Well, we didn’t “get into it” as much as we just decided to do it. If I had been foretold last week that this would happen I would have been shocked. Yet, strangely, today I was not shocked. I was puzzled. Why the hell was I doing this? It was a question I could not answer. Yet I had not the slightest bit of hesitation or regret in my choice. And yes, I was excited. I felt the familiar excitement of competition with her. It was the excitement we always had to win, to be the best, to beat each other. But there was another side of my excitement. I felt an unmistakable thrill. It was like breaking the rules and getting away with it. It was like engaging in some forbidden pleasure. Wow. Did I really just have that thought? Was I feeling the pleasure in having a fight? I found it hard to deny that I was. What the hell was happening to me?
Our mutual lack of experience in fighting alone made this situation improbable. In my experience, while most all girls got into a fight at some time when they were young, but there was clearly a type of girl who got into fights and a type that didn’t. I was the latter. We both were – or I would have said so before this afternoon. Yet we both had no hesitation. It was awkward at first. But then I definitely felt the familiarity and excitement of competition with her. I could only imagine what we must have looked like to the old guys who pulled us apart. I’ll bet the hard-ons would have been visible in their pants. I didn’t notice. My attention was only on her. Omg, I knew boys got hard at the sight of a girl fight. But I hadn’t ever thought about old men in such a situation. I felt my pussy moisten as I turned into her yard.
I saw her looking out the window at me as I came up the walk. Her face disappeared quickly and I opened the door and walked in without knocking. I saw her going to the back of the house and followed. She stopped and turned at the back door. The back-most room was a solarium. Their back yard contained no shrubbery or fence. Although the neighboring homes were not that close, there was nothing to obscure the view. I accepted without debate that we should not have our competition in the back yard for fear of being more of a spectacle than we were earlier this afternoon.
She pulled the blinds closed on all the windows and turned to face me. We were both still in our jogging clothes.
“I’ve pushed some things out of the way in here”. She said. “We can’t bust the place up. Mom will be home in a couple of hours. So let’s stay in the center of the room”.
“Fine”, I nodded. “Are you ready to continue? We need to establish that I’m the best.”
And then I pulled off my top, leaving me in only my exercise bra and very tight, very short jogging shorts. This surprised me even as I was doing it. I honestly don’t know why I did that but it just seemed natural.
She watched me remove my top and then did the same to hers. “You’re looking at the best right now. Any way you want to do this is fine with me”. We stared at each other. It was more awkward this time for some reason. I felt the butterflies rising in my stomach. We slid slowly around each other.
Stepping forward she said, “We should have done this a long time ago”.
‘I know”, I answered in almost a whisper.
As our bodies came together we both raised a hand to grab a full fist of hair. We looked unsmilingly into each other’s eyes. My pussy was dripping. Omg, what was happening to me? We began to pull hair, gently at first but then with increasing force. We leaned on each other. We pulled each other’s head in painful angles. We heard each other groan and the exertion and discomfort. Then I punched her rib cage with my free hand. And she returned the favor. In that moment I realized how much I wanted this. We exchanged more slow body punches and jerked our hair. I felt and heard her bra scratching against mine. There was no other sound in the empty house. We were both panting as we engaged, not only physically, but emotionally in the center of the room.
“Fight me”, she whispered
“Yes, come on”, I breathed
As we pushed our knees into each other we reached for hair with both hands and then pulled each other over at the waist. We stumbled around, painfully pulling hair. We periodically jerked each other up by the hair and smacked our torsos together, mashing our tits and groaning. After several minutes of this, we tangled legs and fell to the floor. Instantly we jumped to clutch each other laying on our sides and re-tangled our legs in a grapevine fashion. We jerked our heads back painfully. The house was warm. Although the blinds were closed, quite a bit of sunlight got through into the solarium. I could feel the sweat on our stomachs, legs, and arms. I reached with one hand to pull at her shorts and scratch her back. She scratched me back and we lay there for many minutes in a tight embrace.
I’ve never felt so alive. I wished we could stay here undisturbed. I wished we had done this before we would both be going away to college. Our shorts, legs, and torsos were drenched in sweat. We began to smack body punches into ribs and backs and even the sides of our heads. It hurt when she hit me. But I didn’t notice it so much. There were so many sensations to experience. The warmth of our bodies, our sweat, our tits, my pussy feeling warm and tingly against her thigh and my fists pounding her back. I wanted to stay there locked together tightly on the floor. I was never going to give up in this competition. I would gladly fight as long as it took.
We got into a rhythm with one hand jerking hair and one punching. We went faster and faster. The sounds of our punches echoed in the house. When we couldn’t go any faster we added the humping of our pussies into each other’s thighs. Our bodies were going at each other in pain and pleasure. I felt her orgasm as she moaned loudly and clutched me in a killer embrace. But I kept punching her and humping her like an animal until my own orgasm washed over me and we shared a tight, sweaty embrace for long minutes. The house was now silent except for the sound of our labored breathing slowly returning to normal.
Finally, we slumped away from each other on our backs, in a puddle of sweat on the floor. We rested.
“Did we decide who’s best?”, she said softly
“No”, I answered. We’ll have to do this again”.
“Good”. What time is it?” she said, straining up to see the clock on the wall.“Fuck, it’s 5 pm. Mom will be home soon.”
We took our time slowly climbing back to our feet and collecting our tops. I pulled mine over my head and down my sweat-soaked body. “Well at least we look like we just finished a long run”, I laughed.
“Brush your hair”, she answered looking at me and pointing to a brush on the table. “You look like you’ve been in a catfight. We took turns combing out our hair while continuing to stare at each other.
“I think fighting is one area of competition that we need to continue”, I offered
“Yes but I wish we had started much earlier”, she sighed. “Are we still friends?”
“I don’t know”, I said truthfully. “Do you still want to be?”
“How would you feel if I said no?” she looked at me unsmilingly.
“I don’t care as long as we fight again”, I groaned.
“Agreed”, she said as we stared at each other silently for a couple of minutes.
“Not now”, she finally broke the silence.
“Fuck”, I softly swore. “It’s too bad”.
“Don’t worry. Let’s make plans for Thursday morning,” she said. “Now get out of here before Mom gets here”.
“Sound good”, I said as I started toward the door. “Fuck you very much”.
Part 3: The Woods
I tossed and turned all night long. My life had taken a big left turn in the last two days. My best friend and I, who have competed against each other all our lives, took our competition to the ultimate level. It was only a week until we were due to leave town for college. But we agreed to fight each other. And that led to a second fight a day and a half later. And in just an hour we would be meeting for the third time. Our friendly competition through all activities of scouts, 4-H, school pageants, swim meets, track and field meets, etc. had now turned aggressively physical. In a way it seemed like a natural progression for our relationship. In another way, it was totally disturbing. But in fact, we came together and fought each other with hardly a second thought. And rather than be revolted or sorry, we wanted to do it again.
I told Mom I’d be going out very early for a long run. It was just over 72 hours until moving day. I rolled out of bed and opened the blinds on the bedroom window to see nothing but darkness. It was 5:30 am. She and I had agreed to meet around 6:00 am on the trail through the woods, behind the park. There is a little clearing at the crest of the hill a couple of miles from town, surrounded by trees and close to nothing at all. We knew this time and place would guarantee privacy and that’s precisely what we wanted.
I yawned as I pulled on my jogging shorts, the tight-fitting matching top and my running shoes. As I glanced in the mirror before turning toward the kitchen, I noticed a small wet spot on the crotch of my shorts. “My word, I’m becoming some kind of trashy slut”, I grimaced. Then I figured, “what the hell”. No one will see me until I come back covered in sweat from my run. I had to smile and shake my head at that thought. Anyone who knew me would wonder how I became so devious, so bold, and so naughty.
I slipped out the kitchen door as silently as I could and began my slow jog toward the edge of our community. There I picked up the trail away from civilization and up through the woods, eventually to the hill crest and to my morning meeting. At first it was quite cool and quite dark. But you could tell the sun was coming up soon. My breath fogged the cool air as I jogged along and I could feel my nipples stiffen against the fabric of my top. In a few minutes I was glad to be warming up from the running. I arrived at the hilltop about 10 minutes to 6 am.
The fog was lifting from the little clearing. The grass was soaked with the morning dew. It looked more like a scene from Transylvania than Eastern Kansas. I walked over and sat down on a broken tree limb by the edge of the clearing and waited. But it was only a few seconds before I heard her coming over the hilltop and stopping across the clearing from me. She had also arrived a little early. My stomach jumped with anxiety and anticipation. She walked over to me and we stood close, running our eyes all over each other. Our breath still fogged the air but the sun was lightening the entire scene. Everything was still wet and cool. Our nipples poked against our tops. We looked at each other with unsmiling, determined faces; challenging, daring, wanting.
She reached back to grab her top and pulled it over her head, shook her hair and laid it aside on the ground. Her tits were now staring back at me.
“What are you doing, you slut?” I said with an amused look.
“I don’t know”, she replied. “I guess I just don’t want anything to come between us for this meeting. Relax. No one can possibly see us”.
I pulled my own top off and dropped it on top of hers. “Fine. I guess there won’t be any old men around to get an eye full and pull us apart like at the school”, I laughed.
“It’s time you and I let our tits share in our competition. If you’re not too embarrassed”, she sneered.
“Fuck you bitch. I am not embarrassed if you want to ogle my tits while we fight. You’ve always been envious”, I countered.
“No ogling, you cxnt. We’ll just let our tits fight it out along with the rest of us”, she said as we walked slowly out to the center of the clearing.
“You know I’ll do this anyway you want bitch”, she smiled insincerely at me as we faced off with our 18 year old tits displayed for each other. They were nearly identical, if truth be told – average size with nipples that were showing no signs of softening anytime soon.
We needed no pretense to innocence. We were way past that. I stepped forward and we both took a fist full of hair, then another. Our chests slapped together, mashing our young, firm breasts and causing twin groans of lust and aggression. We twisted and turned our heads as we pulled at our hair while we roughly rubbed our tits across each other. After a few seconds the struggling brought welcome warmth to our bodies in the cool morning air. But very quickly, the warmth turned to rough friction for tender skin and young nipples. Still we continued to slap our chests together and try to turn each other in the most painful way we could. We grunted lowly as we stumbled and pushed our weight against each other. By mutual consent we were two topless young women fighting in the semi-darkness of the morning.
After a couple of minutes of hair pulling and breast struggling, our legs tangled and we took each other to the ground with a thud. Instantly we thrashed and rolled on the wet grass with our legs tangling again, much like snakes in mortal combat. We rolled one way and then the other. I shivered at the first feel of the cold, wet grass. As we rolled tightly around the little clearing we began to throw fast, wild punches, hitting our backs, sides and head and neck. Although these blows were meant to hurt, neither was really in danger of injury. My pussy moistened at the feel of us hugging tightly and wailing away at each other with our fists while we thrashed about. It seemed we were both enjoying this as we continued it for several minutes.
We were too far away to hear any sounds from town. The forest was quiet and still quite dark. But nearby animals could hear the sounds of fists hitting tender flesh, our young bodies wrestling, and our moaning in combined pain and pleasure. We were both getting tired and we rested in a tight embrace on the ground with our heads pulled in painfully unnatural angles and our legs grape-vined together. The sun was coming up and we could feel a warming breeze. We rested but neither of us had any thought of quitting. Truthfully I felt a strange satisfaction as I lay there getting my second wind. This was the third time this week we had come together to fight and it felt soooo right. Even though our bodies were together in the same way, the physical sensations were quite different from our fight on the floor of her parents home. Today we were laying on wet grass in the cool outdoors with our bare breasts mashed together.
Feeling stronger now, we launched ourselves into another round of wild punching as well as savage hair pulling. For a few minutes we were stuck facing each other on our sides. Then we began to struggle for top position and rolling from one side of the clearing to the other. Our bodies were completely soaked from the dew on the grass. But I struggle kept me warm. In particular the soft warmth of our breasts against each other was in strange contrast to our punching and jerking hair. On and on we thrashed and punched and fought in the early morning.
In just a few days I had come to realize how much I wanted this. I reveled in throwing my lifelong inhibitions away, at least for a short time. It was so thrilling and excitingly forbidden to lock up with her and try to hurt each other; in private, with no judgement or admonishment. I had to admit that a few times in recent years, as we competed against each other in everything, I had fleeting thoughts of us fighting. But these thoughts always disappeared as quickly as they came. But this week, they came and they stayed. And we came and fought. I could only compare it to the first time I sucked and jerked Jake Hershon in the back of his car and watched him shoot his cum all over me and the seats. I thought, “holy fuck that’s so deliciously sinful! How have I been missing this all my life”? That’s the way I thought about fighting her. I didn’t want to miss a chance to do this ever again.
Again we became tired and rested while holding a tight embrace. Every bit of us was wet, from our hair to our ankles. We had kept our running shoes on for some reason.
“Let’s break for a minute”, she panted
In silent agreement we separated and rolled onto our backs to rest for a full couple of minutes.
“You aren’t wimping out on me, are you?”, she blurted.
“You wish, you pathetic slut”, I growled as we slowly climbed to our feet.
“You remember asking me at the house on Tuesday if we were still friends?”
“Yeah”, I said.
“Well, I don’t think we are”, she looked at me with condescension.
“Good”, I sneered back at her. “Let’s fistfight”. I raised my fists and started sliding around her.
“Oh fuck me yessss!”, she moaned. As she raised her own fists she said, “Come on bitch”.
I swear I felt electricity in the air as we began to move around each other, waving our fists slowly up and down. All the school fist fights I ever saw by boys and by girls flashed immediately through my mind. Quickly we closed and through jabs as we moved in and out. A jab was then followed by a hard right hand. We both missed more than we connected at first. But soon we settled in for close in punching as hard and fast as we could throw them. I punched her anywhere I could. But I particularly noticed that I could pound her breasts and it made me hot with the desire to do it again and again. We concentrated on our tits a while, then began trying to hit each other in the face. We moved in and out. We slugged each other some good shots. And we became very tired after 3 or 4 minutes.
As we clinched, I grabbed my fingers around her tit and scratched hard.
“Agghhhhh, you bitch!”, she screamed
In a flash she had hold of my tit and we were both scratching each other pretty good. Punching with our other hand, we cursed each other like we were drunken sailors. I was out of control, punching and scratching and cursing and feeling my pussy begin to drip. Finally she pulled me to the ground by my hair and we resumed our leg grapevine and hair pulling. Using both hands I jerked her head while simultaneously humping my pussy into her thigh. She returned my move and we furiously humped and jerked hair until we screamed as our orgasms thundered through us.
It took quite a while to regain our composure. I looked at her with scratches on her breasts, arms and stomach. I knew my body must look the same. Our hair was a mess and we combed it with our fingers as best we could. Finally recovering our wet tops we pulled them on, yelping from the cold sensation against our breasts. As I glanced up I saw the sun getting pretty high in the sky.
“It’s got to be pretty late. We should get back before a search party is organized”, I said as we walked together down the trail towards town.
“I don’t want this to be the last time”, she looked at me.
“Neither do I”.
After a long pause she replied, “We’ll figure something out. We’re smart people — well, I am at least”.
“What you are is a b i t c h”, she sneered. “And yes, we will figure it out. Because that’s what we do now. We fight”.
Part 4: Off to College
And so, the weekend inevitably came. I went South to the Univ. of Oklahoma. She went West to the Univ. of Colorado. We had been looking forward to this day for years. But, given the events of the past week, my heart just wasn’t in it. The first thing I did after moving in was to get online for a video call with her, after my new roommate went out.
“This is so strange”, I confided. I want to be here, but not if you aren’t.
“I know”, she answered. I so wish you were just next door; or better yet, my roommate.
“Ummmm, that would be soooo good”, she cooed. There would be no one to hide from when we fight”.
“We could go at it all night long”, I moaned
Now we were both silent as we looked into each other’s eyes and moaned and groaned with lust. When I suddenly heard my roommate coming back in, we terminated the call, afraid to be discovered as a dirty fight slut on my first day. I bounced up off the bed, afraid my wet pussy had already soaked through my shorts.
The next three days were filled with freshman orientation activities. My roommate was nice enough but totally boring. She was slightly overweight, plain, brown hair, average bust with big glasses. I began to get comfortable with my surroundings. But I was constantly distracted. I couldn’t ever get her totally out of my head.
I imagined the new female classmates I met rolling on the floor in a ball or standing up slugging each other. I pictured each female professor in a stand-up hair-pulling match with me. Every night I masturbated over and over as silently as I could. Every time I had a break from class for a few hours, I would ping her to see if she was free and we could talk about our desire for physical competition and the opportunity to hurt each other.
Since I had discovered my lust for fighting, I couldn’t get enough. It was all I ever thought about. I was getting by in my classes, but just barely. If it weren’t for masturbation I would have lost my mind. I started going to watch the female volleyball team practices. For an hour or so I could watch these fit, attractive girls in very short, tight shorts and ponytails jumping and grunting and spiking the ball down on top of each other. But all the while I was hoping for a fight to break out and for the coaches to let them go at it.
I also spent considerable time observing the practice of the swim team. My gaze swept over every inch of those brief, tight fitting, one piece suits. I wondered about the physical difficulty of fighting underwater, as I mentally paired off the girls and imagined their wet bodies struggling together. This continued until I realized my own body was becoming wet and I left before I became a spectacle.
My own legitimate athletic interests were being satisfied by my joining the track and field team as a long-distance runner. Many days were spent enjoying long, solo runs through the campus, across the nearby wooded park, through adjacent housing communities, and back to the locker room. My times were improving steadily. As I ran I imagined fighting her which kept my mind from focusing on how tired I was. This inevitably meant arriving back at the finish with a dripping pussy. Fortunately, no one noticed as I was also dripping with sweat and immediately jumping into the shower. Still, being hot and bothered like that is risky when you’re in a locker-room full of other naked girls. A couple of times I had to repress my strong desire to jump another girl and clamp my hands around an attractive set of tits or jerk a full head of hair as I slugged my fist into her stomach. Yeah, I had it bad. I was hooked.
In early November I learned that a couple of my classes were to be canceled on a Friday. It was something about a gas leak problem in the building. But as soon as I heard that, I called her up.
“Turns out I’m going to have a long weekend totally free”, I said breathlessly. I can’t stand this anymore. Let’s meet up”.
“How the hell are we going to do that? If you hadn’t noticed, we’re hundreds of miles apart, slut”.
“I know, you moron. You have a car, don’t you? Cut your classes and let’s meet somewhere in the middle”.
“Ummmm, tempting but, . .”
“Oh come on bitch, it will be just the two of us, somewhere away from our own campuses”.
“Alright, you dirty cxnt. Meet me in Colby at the Holiday Inn. That’s practically the end of the earth. No one knows us there or will care why we’re there.”
“That’s over 200 miles, bitch.”
“It’s over 400 for me but I’ll leave early Friday. Come on you pussy. I want to fight.”
“I’m coming to you whore. And fight we will. By the way, you won’t need a change of clothes. You remember when we met in the woods at home, we didn’t want our bras to get in the way. Well, this time I don’t want any clothing in the way”.
“Ummmmm, you know I’ll gladly fight you naked, you slut. I wish I could leave right now.”
“As soon as you can get there on Friday, no matter how late it is. You get your own room. Remember it’s Colby, Kansas. I don’t want to stir up attention and be conspicuous. If we share a room they’ll assume we’re lesbians.
“Yeah, I guess we don’t want the cops or the priest to come knocking on our door. It’s a date”.
“Fucking right it is. See you Friday night. Bring your fists”.
Spending all day in the car was not my idea of how to spend a Friday off with no classes. But I was excited at the weekend to come. As soon as I woke up Friday morning, I jumped in the car and headed North. Fortunately the weather was cold but dry. After a couple of hours, the only thing keeping me from drifting back to sleep was my hand down the front of my jeans and the mental picture I had of her and I tangled up together for the coming weekend. But the central plains of Oklahoma and Kansas are mind-numbingly boring. After another hour I had to make good use of the rest stop to jump into a restroom stall and masturbate properly without fear of drifting off the road. But as momentarily satisfying as that was, I knew I wanted to get on to my reward for this boring car trip.
Finally, I arrived in Colby at about 1:30 pm. If you’ve never been there, and I can’t imagine you have, I can assure you it’s like the old joke. “Colby isn’t the end of the world, but you can see it from here”. I checked in without incident, locked the door, stripped out of my clothes, and left them laying on the floor. After 4 ½ hours on the road, it was heavenly to close the curtains, lay naked on the bed, stretch out my muscles, and relax. I connected to the motel’s WiFi and watched catfight videos and masturbated until my stomach forced me to get up and find some dinner. Was the video watching on their network going to get me in trouble? I don’t know. Maybe. At that point, I didn’t really care. It was something to deal with later, if necessary.
Fast food is, , , well, it’s fast food. So undernourished but full, I came back to the room after dinner and repeated the lock, strip, and masturbate routine. I remembered how surprised I had been that day when she first invited me to fight. I was surprised yes, but also instantly and inexplicably excited. After all our years of competition and friendship, we fell into a fighting embrace so naturally and quickly. In a flash, we went from friendly talking after a run to fighting on the school ball field. In those few minutes, it seemed our lives had changed. We had been competing all our lives and now it seemed we were both ready for the final stage of that competition; to fight like mature women, throwing away all inhibitions and fear of consequence. And it was sooo satisfying even though it lasted only a couple of minutes.
Then I remembered how eager we both were to meet alone the next day at her house — in her fucking house! My pussy squirted as I rubbed my engorged clit and remembered the two of us rolling on the floor. Her parents would never know how we pulled hair and wrestled and scratched and slapped and punched each other, completely free to do what we wanted for an hour. Yes! We did exactly what we wanted. We wanted to fight. Why was it suddenly so exciting? I didn’t know and absolutely couldn’t have cared less. I just wanted to embrace the feelings and hope it would last as long as possible.
Then that next Thursday morning. We got up early and met in the woods on the edge of town. And just like we’d been doing this for years, we stripped to the waist and went at each other, right there in the clearing, bare-breasted! “Uhhhhhhnnnnn”, (more pussy squirting), as I relived those memories and hoped she would arrive soon. That’s all I could do until about 9:30 pm when there was a knock at the door.
My heart jumped up into my throat, the butterflies burst into flight within my stomach and I blurted out,
When the door opened, our eyes met and the electricity in the air rose to a dangerous level. Immediately she closed the door and, seeing me naked in the chair across the room, she began to remove her clothes. She dropped her top, jeans, and underwear on the floor on top of mine as she slowly walked toward me. I could feel myself radiating heat and my pulse quicken. Finally our weekend was about to get started.
Part 5: The Weekend
It was so deliciously perverse. We were both college freshmen. She was my friend/rival/enemy and I was hers. We had just driven hours on a Friday evening to meet each other in a private, anonymous setting, for the sole purpose of fighting. We wanted to do it where no one could see or interfere. We wanted to do it with no time pressure whatsoever. And we wanted to do it naked.
My pussy was already dripping as we came together with our fingers searching, probing for a strong hold that would allow us to have control. Quickly we had our hands in each other’s hair. Throughout all of history, this was the hold that women of all ages, shapes and sizes have preferred when fighting. It’s uniquely feminine, while achieving instant control over an opponent. From a good handful of hair you can jerk her head and neck painfully, scratch her scalp, pull her into a wall or a knee, or throw her into the floor. At first we did none of those things. There was no hurry. We had the weekend.
We pulled each other close with our heads at an angle while staring into each other’s eyes. I could see the lust, which matched my own, looking back at me. I felt our breasts meet with rock hard nipples dragging across each other as we struggled for position. With my other hand I punched her ribs and she responded in kind. We continued to exchange body punches as we jerked hair, pushed, strained and stumbled slowly around and around in the center of the small motel room.
I wallowed in the warm body contact, our tits wrestling, our fists smacking while grunting softly with each punch. I don’t know which I loved more; punching her or feeling her fist hit my ribs and back and the side of my head. This rhythm went on for some time and slowly our pace began to increase. I whispered,
“Come on. . . I’ve missed you”.
“I’m here, you slut”, she whispered back. “Let’s go”.
The punching came faster and harder. Maybe it was muscle memory from our three previous fights. Maybe it was my imagination. But it seemed like a well choreographed dance. We knew just how to control each other – to hurt each other. There was no defense. We punched, scratched and jerked each other willingly, eagerly, and efficiently for, what seemed like, a long time.
Our legs tangled and we fell to the floor with a thump, instantly thrashing and rolling over each other for position. Our naked, sweaty bodies slipped and slid until we were finally able to get firm hold on each other. We lay on our sides, legs tangled and arms holding each other tightly. We jerked our heads back by the hair. The volume of our groaning increased. We took our first short rest as we held each other close on the worn carpet. After a while she let go with one hand and snaked it around to clamp into the side of my breast.
“Agghhhhh!”, I yelped. “Bitch”, I spat as I moved one hand to scratch her tit as well.
“Yeah, come on, you cxnt. Have you got what it takes”?
“Let’s see”, I moaned, half in pain and half in lust.
We clutched tightly and scratched and pulled our flesh with evil intent, all the while listening to each other moan in pain. Our legs strained for control and I felt the sensation of my wet pussy against her thigh. When we couldn’t take the pain on our breasts any longer we let go and started to thrash violently. Rolling over each other one way and then back the other resulted in a stalemate. Again we clutched each other on our sides. She brought one hand up to choke me while continuing to hold my hair. Quickly I put a hand to her throat as well. Neither had sufficient strength in one hand to completely cut off our breathing. But still it was plenty painful and made us both gasp for air as we fought on the floor.
I brought up my knee and smacked into her pussy which actually splattered her sweet juices on us both. We were hurting each other and I loved it. We lay with one hand clutching the other’s throat and scratching, punching and slapping with the other. Our legs were tangled and straining. For quite some time we lay on the floor, staring at each other with hatred and lust. The punching and scratching slowed somewhat as we grew very tired. The struggle had warmed our bodies and the little motel room. We sweated and panted. No words were exchanged. None were needed.
I lost all sensation of time and really of place too. There was only this girl I’d known all my life and our fight. A couple of times I awoke startled, realizing I’d dozed off as we clutched each other in sadistic lust. It had been a long drive down here and a long time we’ve been at each other. How many hours since we signed in? Was it yesterday or earlier today? I had no idea what time it was. I could only see it was night and we were locked together on the floor, clutching, strangling, punching, sweating and panting in pain and lust.
We went on and on, in and out of consciousness, never letting go. The worn carpet became damp from our sweating. I was so tired. But this was what we came here to do. There were no more distractions, no more worries. There was only fighting. Damn, that’s exactly what I wanted. My best friends and I weren’t friends any longer. Anyone who knew us 6 months ago probably wouldn’t recognize us at all. We’d turned into dirty, fighting sluts. I didn’t know how. And I didn’t care.
At some point, I realized the sun had come up, sort of. The light in the window was grey, depressing but pretty normal for early winter on the plains of Kansas. As I became fully awake I sensed my naked body entangled with hers. We were in the same catball we had held all night long. Even while tangled with evil intent, I stretched my muscles as an involuntary reflex from waking up. As I felt her do the same, we both moaned softly. I was suddenly keenly aware of our intimate position and our naked flesh pressing together. Our tight struggle to simultaneously wrestle but also wake up caused my pussy to moisten. Then suddenly, like a tsunami, my lust overtook me. I slapped her and grabbed her pussy with one hand. Then feeling her match my movements we quickly and roughly rubbed our wet clits. We moaned and let our tongues wrestle while drooling and humping our fingers. And then a wonderful, exhilarating orgasm washed over us with wave after wave. And I was afraid our moans would be heard all over the motel floor.
“Ahhhhhhhhh, eeeeehhhhhhhh, ummmmmmmmmmm!”
We bucked and squirted on each other until the ecstasy began to slowly subside. It was the most wonderful pleasure I’d ever felt in my life.
“Ummmmmmmm, fuuuuuccccckkkkkkkk, Unnnnhhhhhhhhh”
Eventually we pushed and kicked away from each other and sat up on the floor. As I looked at her, I could only imagine I looked the same. She was drenched in sweat and cum juices with her hair wet and matted and sticking out in weird directions. I rubbed my sore breasts and looked down at the scratches I could see there.
“You look like the prefect, dirty, disgusting slut of the year”, I said
“Takes one to know one”, she chuckled.
“Damn right”, I replied. “But I’m fucking starving”.
We looked with reluctance at our clothes strung out on the floor, knowing we had nothing else to wear. Then one at a time, we washed up a little in the bathroom and pulled on our clothes, still feeling dirty and disgusting. We followed each other down to the lobby and paused while looking out into the grey, depressing morning.
“Share breakfast together?”, I asked.
She turned to face me and gave me an uncertain look. “I’m not sure”, she replied.
We stared at each other for a time and I knew my answer. “I don’t think I can promise to keep my hands off you”. I actually did feel an inexplicable urge to ball up my fist and slug her chest.
“Yes, I agree. We’d better split up. I’d love to fight you on the street corner but let’s not get arrested”.
“If you insist, bitch. Too bad. It would be fun”.
We glared and smirked at each other a moment before finally pushing away and stepping through the door one at a time. I turned left and she turned right. We knew we would be spending the day with each other. But first, breakfast!