First, this is another one of my stories with Sprite. Someone who is one my of absolute favorite partners at this point, in a ton of stories that haven’t been written or even mentioned yet. They are great at keeping me focused on fighting and hatred, even when I am pulled to the soft, more sensual side. This story, is certainly one where such was required. But apart from my own thanks to Sprite, I also wanted to say that you catfight fans owe thanks too. Without him, there might be a whole lot less pain and a whole lot more kissing. He he
My own personal gushing concluded, this story is super fucking hot. Incredibly lingering. And just a ton of close, body-to-body cruelty. BUT, it is also filled with racial animus, slurs, and Israeli vs. Palestinian commentary.
I tried, as best I could, to soften any actual merit to the things the two girls said about each other, but still they said it. There will be a sequel. There will be more for Chloe and Zahra — not just separately, but together. So if the end of this upsets you, just wait…. More is coming.
That being said, if there is even the slightest chance that might offend you, or trigger your own, deeply held religious or political beliefs, DO NOT READ THIS STORY. Instead, just click the button below to find another story that better fits your tastes.
In the silence, each of them sat wearing feigned smiles. Those expressions not aimed at each other, mind you, but into their steam-releasing mugs of coffee. Neither of the two twenty-somethings having even made eye contact since Zahra arrived. The events of the day before instilling a frosty chasm between the two college students. Two classmates, who had not necessarily been friends, but had at least been acquaintances. The other, before that day, being a person they liked, if not someone they knew well.
That civility and presumed pleasantness being the case, even though they were each a member, if only in blood, of peoples that had been torn apart. Set at odds. And at war, since either of the two girls could remember. Zahra being Palestinian American and Chloe being a Jewish American.
Part of those ethnicities though they may have been, neither of the two paid even a single thought to the conflicts that brewed and boiled half-a-world away. Battles that happened in a place neither could recall having visited. Fought over slights neither ever knew, let alone understood.
That is until the last month, or so. When each found themselves swept into separate groups of friends that believed hard. Spoke loudly. And took every opportunity to espouse beliefs and aspersions that were not only new to each of the girls but compelling, in a strange, guilt-magnified way.
Those views and voices brought Zahra to a rally for Palestinian rights taking place on her college’s Campus (the University of Miami). And in opposite, from those on the other side of the political chasm, Chloe to the counter-protest — she being a student at that same school.
There, each of the two girls regurgitated the words they had heard their friends say, chanting with them and half of those gathered. Each holding signs. Each marching from one end of their barricaded area to the other. Enjoying their first feeling of taking a stand, even if the cause was new to them and the conflict foreign. But, as happens at protests of such passion, things quickly got out of hand.
When it did, barricades fell and lines advanced. At that advance, shouts became yells and chants screams. Crowds on either side of the issue meeting and mixing — challenging and shoving. Somewhere in that chaos of freedom and speech, Chloe and Zahra met. Not as classmates, or acquaintances, but as enemies, at least for that moment.
A moment in which their blood pumped and tempers flared, the two only daughters of rich families facing off. Each pointing in each other’s face and shouting.
“Terrorist!” Chloe accused blindly.
“Oppressor!” Zahra roared back without true cause.
For they two, no logic held sway at that moment. No reason. No thoughts of all the days spent before, seeing and smiling at one another. Only hatred. Only anger. Over slights neither gave nor suffered.
The two locking glares as they shoved their signs at each other — each even spitting at the other, when they could no longer control their tempers. Both such attempts at humiliation and aversion missed in the madness of the pushing crowds, and arriving officers.
But just as the moment seemed to be spiraling into actual conflict. When each had it in their mind to reach for the other and hurt. Campus guards arrived, splitting and dragging not just they two, but the adverse crowds apart in riot gear.
It was only hours later when each had left their passionate comrades, that they began to feel it. The sting of regret, and the disbelief at what they had become in that moment, together, in the crowd.
They had become their parents. The men they saw on the news. And every other person they had ever seen that was so involved in the conflict, that they could not see it clearly or at all. And so, with Chloe’s number still in their phone from years before, Zahra texted — only a minute or two before Chloe would have done the same.
Those texts sent from one and then back were soft. Apologetic. And most of all wanting of a chance to meet — to talk. An opportunity to mend what had been broken, not just between they two, but within themselves.
A conference of two that was arranged for the next day. The day which saw Chloe and Zahra sitting awkwardly on a shared couch, smiling at their warm beverages. A sofa with sat in the middle of Chloe’s house, one she lived in alone — thanks to her family’s money.
A sofa on which they sat, neither wearing shoes. Zahra having removed hers out of respect upon entering the home and having seen her host without a pair on of her own. Each in comfortable blouson dresses — Chloe’s gray and Zahra’s green. Neither of the two, despite their own physical comfort, sure what to say or how to start. Until finally, Chloe spoke.
“Look, I….” She said in a voice more akin to a quivering whisper than a confident beginning.
“You don’t have to…,” Zahra responded, thrilled that her host had spoken first, and broken the silence that lingered between them.
As each spoke their broken, unfinished sentences, they looked up to each other and then laughed. The relief of the other’s softness washing over them like a wave of calm.
“What got ahold of us?” Chloe asked in a demure chuckle.
“I don’t know! It was so strange. I am so sorry I spit at you.” Responded Zahra, as she placed her left hand on Chloe’s bent knee.
“Same. Oh my god, same. And calling you a terrorist? Out of line. Out. Of. Line. You are so not responsible for the sins of your people.” In the same, kind, happy tone, Chloe made her comment. And yet….
“Sins…?” Zahra said sharply, as she yanked her hand free of Chloe’s dress-exposed leg. A twinge of electricity seeming to crackle and jump up her spine, as a moment of light apology turned harsh and accusatory in a flash.
“Oh — no, I didn’t mean…. I was saying, the terrible attacks on Israel, you didn’t do those things!” Chloe scrambled to defuse, not really understanding what it was that had made Zahra react as she did.
Resisting the immediate urge to rage, Zahra, closed her eyes and spoke. Wanting to make sure her words were understood. “Those attacks, are bad, yes. But they are only carried out because Israel is systematically destroying everything the Palestinians have had, and have!”
It was then that Chloe felt her own spine tingle, and her fingers tightened around the ends of the red scarf that hung from its wrap around her neck. “You mean…” The Jewish American too tried to remain calm, while still educating her guest with the knowledge she only obtained days before, from the words of others. “…Israel is protecting their own land. The land the Palestinians live and lived on is owned by Israel. Not just now, but before the Palestinians even came to that land!”
Just hearing the words spoken, and in such a tone of arrogance made Zahra take a deep breath through her nose, her lips shut as she tried not to yell. “Yeah, having your land stolen from you must be hard! Like the Israelis, YOUR people did to MY people! But regardless of who FUCKING owns it, where do your people get the right to become NAZIS! Have you seen the conditions of where the Palestinians are forced to live?! Have you seen how your people treat my people!? I can’t even believe you’re defending the things they do….”
Somehow, Zahra had made it through her lecture without bursting into flames or violence. And somehow, in an equally impressive miracle, Chloe found a way to listen to it, without suffering the same loss of control. Instead, with all the focus and willpower she had, she waited — perhaps less than patiently to correct those things said. “If your people don’t like the conditions of the land they are GIVEN by the CHARITY of my people, maybe they should move to one of the countries that attacked us! Who still want to attack us! Maybe they’ll GIVE you what you seem so desperate t….”
Before Chloe could finish her diatribe, Zahra launched herself, grabbing two handfuls of her host’s hair, as she crashed down atop her on the couch. “Shut up! SHUT UP! SHUT UPPPPP!!!!!” The Palestinian-American shouted as she yanked at her classmate’s beautiful brown hair.
“Bitch! Get the hell off of me!” Chloe retorted, even as her own fingers reached for Zahra’s thick black hair. Hair she yanked on hard, in an effort to remove the enemy atop her.
“Take all of it back! RIGHT NOW!” Even with her head bent back, and her neck strained near to the point of breaking, Zahra had one focus: making Chloe retract what she said. Her own inexperience with the arguments they both used, making her even more frustrated than she otherwise might have been. She too having only been restating what she had been told by friends in the recent past.
“No! YOU TAKE IT BACK! What you sai–AAAGGGHHH!!” Chloe demanded in part before she found her head pulled so hard to the left, that her body bent, and she began to hang halfway off the couch beneath her guest. “FUCK!” She shouted in complaint, as the girl on bottom recovered the focus to speak.
“I tried to be nice to YYYAAAAA-Ooomphhh.” Zahra, in her sudden control, began, before a sharp tug at her hair pulled her not only over, but off of her enemy. The Arab finding her head hitting hard against the coffee table that sat just a foot and a half from the sofa.
“Come here!” Zahra heard in the darkness of her closed eyes. Her own hands having moved from her rival’s hair to her own head, to feel for blood, bumps, or both. But as she felt for the damage already done, her Jewish host sought to inflict more by reaching down after standing and grabbing the shoulder straps of Zahra’s dress.
At first, those grips held and allowed Chloe to pull Zahra up to her knees, but thereafter, they pulled up and off, the Arab’s dress with them. Despite the failure, and as scarf fell from shoulder to floor, Chloe’s intention did not change. Leading her to toss the green dress to the side.
But as soon as she bent over, Zahra charged and buried her shoulder in her rival’s stomach. The blow sending Chloe back, as Zahra drove forward. The latter tackling the former to the carpeted ground, each now free of the couch and the coffee table.
“Fucking kike bitch!” Zahra screamed as she rose back up in her matching green, lace, bra and panties. She grabbing the bottom of Chloe’s gray dress as she stood — pulling it both up and over her host’s head with a quick, yanking lift.
Dress removed though it was, Chloe did not linger in embarrassment or modesty. No, instead she instead reached up for her standing classmate, and then grabbed her green panty band. She then using that grip to pull and drag the lace garment down the Arab’s toned thighs.
Unsure what to do as her lower undergarments dropped, and half-seized by modesty, Zahra tried to step forward and away from Chloe. But with her panties binding her flexing calves, she tripped and fell forward next to the carpet in front of the lit fireplace.
Chloe, in her bright blue, lace panties and bra, sensed an opportunity and chased after her Arab guest. The beautiful Jew diving after, and landing atop her rival’s back. Her still bra-covered breasts pressing down on Zahra’s back, just as a forearm snaked around the neck of the same.
“You attack me in my own fucking house, you Muslim cunt?” It sounded like a question, but as it was spoken, Chloe made sure her enemy could not answer it. The outraged host pulling her bicep tight against the windpipe of she who was asked.
As that chokehold settled in, Zahra began kicking with her feet and digging her toes into the carpet, to try and drag herself away from the woman atop her. But as those efforts failed under their combined weight, and as her own air supply dwindle, the Arab girl began to reach for something — for anything she could find with her hands. But with each such attempt, Chloe wrenched her chokehold tighter. Punishing her rival for every attempted escape, all as she taunted her.
“Fucking bitch. You’re not going anywhere.” Came after a failed reach for Chloe’s hair.
“Ah ah ah, be a good girl.” Was added, after a series punches failed to land in any significant way on the dominant Jewish girl’s body.
“Mmnnn Mmmm, not gonna work.” Chloe chimed as Zahra’s fingers reached to scratch the face of the former, all as she tightened her choke one last time.
But after all such attempts failed, and in turn, each earned a reprisal, Zahra did the only thing she could, just before her oxygen ran out. Reaching down and up for Chloe’s panties, and then yanking them down as far and as hard as she could. And though that was not far, only down past her Jewish tormentor’s cheeks, it somehow distracted Chloe. Who looked down, and for only a moment, loosened her choke.
It was a small opening, yes, but all that Zahra needed. As within a flash, she rolled and threw her host off of her to the left. With the choke that had so clearly threatened to end their battle, and knock her unconscious release, Zahra hacked on all fours. The Arab girl coughing desperately as she fought to breathe once again.
Chloe, for her part, stood, letting those barely removed blue panties fall to the ground before she again moved towards her prey. “Apologize, bitch….” Came a demand, as she stalked. “Right now.” She added, before stopping only a foot from Zahra.
A Zahra who was still struggling to remain conscious and breathe, let alone counterattack. But still, even in that state, she responded, “fuck … you … Jew….”
A response that came and was responded to not with a retort of words, but a kick. A harsh one that was slammed right into Zahra’s ribs — ribs which were exposed as their owner remained winded on all fours. “Ouuuggghh!” That same owner bellowed as she collapsed to her side, and then rolled to her back.
“Oh my god, you Arab-trash are all so stubborn! Fine!” Chloe said in frustration, as she again walked towards Zahra, fulling intending on punishing the Arab until she gave what was wanted.
To deliver such punishment, the pantiless Jewish host, spread her legs and placed one on either side of Zahra’s still recovering body. From that dominant position, and with all the confidence in the world, Chloe commented. “I’ll just have to make you apologize.” Before she began to lower herself into what she intended to be a straddle of her rival’s midsection.
But as Chloe lowered, Zahra reached, despite her broken appearance. Her hands latching onto Chloe’s blue, lace bra, and tugging hard — not down, but forward. A pull that not only snapped the bra at its clasp but also sent her host flying forward. A sudden sending that ended in Chloe’s head smashing into the metal fireplace screen in front of her hearth, and then collapsing down to the brick base below it.
“Greedy fucking jew….” Zahra muttered, not yet able to stand. Her head still spinning, and throat still aching from Chloe’s hate-fueled offense.
“Bitch, bitch, BIIIITTTTCCCHHHH!!” Zahra began to chant, as she fought her way back to her feet. Her lungs still on fire, and her head still aching from its collision with the coffee table. And yet still, despite that state, she made her way to Chloe, stepped down with her bare right foot on her back, and then grabbed two handfuls of her rival’s silky brown hair. Hair on which she pulled hard, trying as best she could to snap her Jewish host in half.
“Fuck, fuuuuu–OOWWWWEEE!” Chloe offered in agony, as her enemy pulled — the room spinning, whether her eyes be open or shut.
Effective though her attack was, Zarha, could barely stand. She wobbling, even as she pressed the sole of her foot down into the square of Chloe’s back. A wobbling which continued, until she dropped, ass-first down on the brunette. An impact that not only knocked the wind out of the downed Jewish girl but also drove the upper part of her ribs into the lip of the brick fireplace landing.
At least, she wasn’t trying to snap me in half any longer, Chloe thought just a moment too soon. As just as the hope ran through her mind, Zahra sought revenge — she trying to lock her rival in a chokehold, just like the one she had been in. But as she reached, and wrapped her arm, Chloe panicked, knowing she was in no shape to endure or escape such a hold. And so, to avoid it, she spun as her Arab enemy leaned forward to take her hold.
And though it hurt, with the brick lip beneath her scraping, and still gouging into her upper back, she made it. The Jewish host completing her turn beneath her rival’s straddle before she found herself locked in a breath-stealing sleeperhold.
Not expecting the turn, Zahra had little time to pull her own upper body back, and before she could, Chloe reached for and around her. She on the bottom clinging to she on top, if not for offense, to keep her from doing anything else. The Jewish host looking just to hold her guest there. To slow the fight down. To breathe, before things escalated any further.
“Let go of me….” Zahra demanded, as she relinquished her straddle, and slid her lower body down Chloe’s. The Arab girl’s bare sex passing over that over the naked mound of her enemy, as their bodies aligned, in their ground-bound embrace.
“No…,” Chloe responded in defiance, not fear — even as their bodies came settled together. The only fabric between them between the bras of the two classmates, Chloe’s already unclasped, loose, and ready to come off.
“Let….” Zahra began as she glared into her rival’s eyes, her fingers lacing through Chloe’s hair and then tugging sharply before she continued. “…go of meeee.”
And though the pulling of hair hurt, Chloe only tightened her grapple. Locking her hands behind Zahra’s back as she glared back at her enemy. “No, bitch…..” The Jewish girl again refused, needing the moment of inaction to continue.
For a moment, Zahra just pulled at Chloe’s hair, unsure what to do, with so little room to work with. But finally, finally, when it came to her mind, she warned. “Fine. I’ll just bite you then.”
“No, no, nooo.” Chloe began to panic, and in response, leaned her forehead up into her enemy’s. Wanting to make sure no sudden movements of head could happen without her having a say in the matter.
Despite all the fire of the battle that had already taken place and the hatred each felt for each other. Something about that moment. That closeness. And the feeling of their nearly naked bodies pressing together, made them both feel almost … dizzy with anticipation and excitement.
Despite that feeling, however, and how quickly their hearts beat as they laid their together in their hateful embrace, Zahra still leaned in, and spoke. Just as her lips pressed to Chloe. “Bitch….” A word she spoke just before biting, her teeth closing around and then digging into her Jewish’s host’s bottom lip.
At first, the bite itself was a warning. One Zahra kept loose and soft, as she waited for Chloe to release her bearhug. But when she refused without words, and instead tried to pull her bottom lip from her rival’s mouth, Zahra bit: hard. Her teeth piercing gum and finding the telltale taste of copper in only a second. A discovery by force that caused Chloe to scream, and release, though not before she used her fingers to pull the clasp of her enemy’s bra open.
Chloe had assumed, that as soon as she let go of her grapple, so too would her classmate release her locking of jaw. But instead, as the pinned Jewish girl let her grapple fall, Zahra, brought up her legs, and with them pinned Chloe’s legs. Then, her hands, which had only a moment earlier held hair, moved to the host’s cheeks and sought to keep her in place. All as Zahra gnawed. Not in sharp, intense bites, but in a long, grinding one.
At the pain of it, and as Chloe’s blood began to flow down her own cheeks and into her mounted classmate’s mouth, the eyes of the same began to leak. Her tears and blood flowing, as Zahra continued to torture — the pinned Jewish girl having not else to do but move her hands to her rival’s shoulders and push. Desperately.
Despite that pushing, however, Zahra held firm — her bite becoming more about domination than pain, as it continued. She, loving the sound of Chloe’s soft whimpers, and the feeling of her enemy pushing meekly against her.
But as Zahra began to lose herself in the enjoyment of the moment, even moaning — though she did not mean to, Chloe struck. Moving her own hands from shoulders in, and gouging her sharp-nailed thumbs into Zahra’s eyes. Shut quickly though they did, to avoid any permanent damage, the owner of those shuttered eyes had no choice but to release her long, gnawing bite and to roll away.
It was only then, that the two women took stock of all that had occurred as they rested. Chloe, as she fought back her tears, and Zahra as her own, now aching eyes began to leak. Each had wounded the other — hurt the other with attacks of word and force. But their greatest pain came from frustration.
Frustration not about some counter they had missed, or attack they were forced to endure, but at the other’s refusal to give in. For each had lived their lives, almost as a princess — the only children of wealthy families. Always getting what they wanted, when they wanted it. And all, either of them wanted at that moment, as they laid there approximately 6 feet apart, was the other to concede the fight. Was for their rival to admit they were wrong in those things they said, and give in to them. It was that latter part, the giving in to them, that neither truly understood.
A failure to understand that did not stop them from pushing themselves to their knees. Even as their chests heaved for breath and their eyes remained averted from each other. Neither of the two enemies wanting the other to see them cry. Not wanting to give them the satisfaction of knowing how effective their attacks had been.
But, as they remained there on their knees, with their palms pressed to their bare upper thighs, their unclasped bras finally fell from their shoulders. The happening exposing their breasts, and as they each let those garments fall to the floor, removing the last traces of fabric that hid their naked forms from one another.
They could both see it, out of the corner of their averted and crying eyes. That falling. That freeing of breasts. And though they wanted with so much of themselves to never look at the other again, immediately, they found their eyes move. Those windows to the soul betraying their wishes and locking onto the body of their rival. Their enemy.
The sight of the other’s breasts and their naked body seemed to transfix them for a moment. In so many ways they could not explain it then, nor can I for you now. And though that moment of admiration, jealousy, and hatred seemed to last forever, finally, Chloe spoke and broke it.
“I expected you to be covered in hair like an animal….” Chloe, said shortly, her eyes melting into a red-hot glare.
“Shut up!” Zahra bristled, as she began to rise from her kneeling position. “I can barely see your body under your giant nose!” The Arab guest added, just as she found her footing.
“Oh, I think you can see it just fine, judging by those nipples of yours.” Came Chloe’s reply, one she gave as she followed her rival to her feet.
“Who the fuck are you to make a comment like that? Look at yours, Jew! If you can find them in those giant areolae of yours….” The comment was biting, so much so that as she said it, Zahra knew it would incense her classmate.
“B-b-bitch! Muslim BITCH!” Was all Chloe could muster in a stutter. The comment being one that hit at an area of her body she had always felt self-conscious about.
“Jewish cunt.” Replied Zahra, as her lips bent into a smirk, knowing the damage she had done with her words.
But as one spoke and the other replied, they neared each other again. Their eyes locked in a hateful glare. And as those eyes spoke for them, sharing all those feelings coursing through their bodies and mind, they could feel it. Their mutual need to re-engage. To fight again, and bend the other to their will. But before either acted on that, Chloe, almost boiling over with rage, spit. Her saliva landing on Zahra’s chest, between her tits, and then dripping down her body from there.
At the realization of what had just happened, Zahra began to charge forward, she too deciding to spit just as Chloe started to make that same advance. Her own projectile landing between Chloe’s tits a half-second before the two engaged. Each of the two rivals burying their fingers in each other’s hair and yanking hard. Each wanting — looking to throw their enemy to the floor. To demonstrate their own power, and force the other to finally give in.
But as each tried to throw — to toss, they found the other more than game. Each keeping their feet through one attempt and then another, their nude bodies slamming together, as each sought whatever leverage they could find. The saliva each wore meeting and spreading as their bodies pressed together without hindrance for the first time.
In that freedom, breasts smashed into breasts. Thighs crashed into thighs, as each stumbled. And soft, unmuscled tummies, coated in the saliva of not just they, but of their enemy met and slid this way and that, as they battled there in Chloe’s living room.
Battle though they did — try though they did, each putting all their weight and strength behind attempts at breaking their parity, they each failed, time and again. Their vicious pulling of each others hair and wide lunges causing them only to stumble together, wildly, across the room and then back. Their lips releasing heavy breaths of exertion, whimpers of pain, and insults of a quick, hissed, and animalistic nature.
“Jewish slut!” “Arab cunt!” “Jewess….” “Jihadi….”
But finally, when Zahra could take not a moment’s more of their stalemate, she released her right hand from Chloe’s hair and then buried the same balled into a fist deep in the Jewish host’s tummy. A blow that caused their wild twirling to stop, and Chloe to gasp for air, as she released her own grips of hair in a wounded stagger. The punch made worse by how little it was expected by she who suffered it. She expecting their mutual hairpulling struggle to continue until one had finally won it.
But Chloe’s state of confusion did little to stay Zahra’s hands, as before the former had stumbled even a few feet away, the latter struck again. The Arab guest lifting and driving a hard right knee and thigh into Chloe’s stomach. The blow knocking the wind out of the Jewish host, who at the effect began to almost keel over.
“You Jews are so weak….” Zahra mused, as again she took a handful of Chloe’s hair. A grip she then used to drag her enemy’s head up, so that she could look into her glassy eyes.
“F–” Chloe began, only to find her words coming out as little more than a prolonged wheeze.
“Hmm, what’s that? I can’t hear Jewwwww….” The Arab taunted, as she drug Chloe’s face into her spit-covered stomach, and then up between her large, bare breasts.
“I — said….” Again Chloe spoke, but this time, as her words gave out, she drove her own fist home, slamming it right into Zahra’s solar plexus. A strike delivered so hard that in a flash, she who felt it wilted. Releasing Chloe’s hair, and letting loose a deep, windless gasp, as if she had been sat on by an elephant.
A sound that came just as she who made it bent over, her hands moving to her knees to try and catch some amount of breath. But all she found was Chloe’s own rising leg, which landed knee first, in the gut of Zahra. And though she wanted to collapse, Zahra found that same knee return, not once, but twice into her tummy. Blows delivered as Chloe grabbed her own fistful of Zahra’s black hair, using the grip to keep her enemy upright — just as was done to her.
“God I hope you enjoyed your little moment in the sun, sand nigger. Because I know I am loving the sound of you in pain.” Chloe said with all the restraint of a rabid wolverine, her comment directed at Zahra’s groans of pain, which seemed to get louder with each risen knee.
Zahra wanted to respond, to counter such vile language and devastating attacks, but instead she could offer nothing other than a failing effort to remain on her feet. An effort that was not aided by a stinging right fist being hurled into her left cheek by Chloe. A hit that knocked Zahra down to her knees, and split her bottom lip wide open.
“To think, there was a time when I wanted to be your friend.” Came a confidence-laced remark from Chloe, who held onto her grip of hair. One she used to twist Zahra’s head back and forth in a cruel playfulness.
“Do you think we could have been friends, Zahra…?” Though she asked, Chloe sought no answer, she instead pulling harshly at her enemy’s raven-black hair, forcing her to look up as her bottom lip began to bleed.
“Ah, well — should have known I couldn’t trust an Arab bitch.” As the words passed over Zahra, who was only then beginning to recover, Chloe fired another fist into Zahra’s face. The blow landing hard, smashing the Arab girl’s nose against her face, nearly breaking it, though stopping just short.
“Uggghhhh.” Was all that Zahra could muster, as she began to wobble on her knees, her nose not just dripping, but letting loose a torrent of blood. Blood that Chloe pressed to her own nude mound, wiping it and in the process, her enemy’s face on herself — claiming the crimson as a sign of her impending victory. And though she had it, that marking of transferred plasma, she let Zahra linger, keeping mound pressed to cheek as she enjoyed the feeling of complete dominance.
As Chloe stood there with legs spread, lost in a trance of unabated control and her rival’s intoxicating weakness, she did not notice Zahra’s movement. The arms of which lifted and hands of which positioned, just in time to press against Chloe’s ass cheeks, and slam her lower body forward. Forward into the open jaw of Zahra, which bit down hard on the Jewish host’s bare, and blood-stained pubic mound.
And whereas before Zahra’s bite lingered, this time it was released quickly, as a moment later, one of the pressing hands of the same formed a fist and shot up. That fist slamming into the bottom of Chloe’s jaw in an off-angled uppercut, which hit with such force that the neck of she who took it audibly cracked at the impact. A sound that played background as Zahra fought her way to her feet and Chloe staggered backward.
“Kike!” Zahra shouted, incensed by Chloe’s humiliating moment of dominance. But her shout was not alone, as just as it echoed in the Jewish host’s head, a left fist struck hard, flattening and smashing Chloe’s upper lip, splitting it wide.
And though before each had taken turns in throwing unopposed punches and knees, Chloe, in desperation fired back, her own fist landing with a resounding plop against Zahra’s tummy.
Not to be outdone, or dominated by her enemy again, Zahra, despite the body blow, threw another punch, one which splashed against and across Chloe’s beautiful tits.
“Owe! Brown cunt!” Chloe shouted in pain, before throwing a counter blow, one that smashed into Zahra’s right cheek. One which was then mimicked by the guest, and then countered by the host. Each throwing their own punches, back and forth. Fists landing and burrowing into each other’s faces and bodies until the exertion of it — the pain of it all, caused their fists to slow, and their tired bodies to lean.
Not in one direction or another, but together, the two stumbling as they fought to keep punching. Their blows at that point weak, and unaimed — landing on hips and ribs, only for the arms that threw them to fall limp at their sides a moment later. The eyes of the two warring women blackened, their lips broken and noses smashed, each dripping with blood and sweat, even as their cheeks began to swell from those impacts they suffered.
Cheeks which on one side pressed together, their blood-covered faces almost sticking together as they leaned into each other just to keep themselves standing. But even with that hateful embrace, they together collapsed to their knees in a clump, each letting loose a groan as their wounded and bruised bodies absorbed the impact.
“Get the fuck off me, you dirty Je–” Zahra demanded, or tried to, as midway through she found Chloe’s fist ram into her stomach — cutting off her words.
“Give in, and I will, you Arab whor–” Came Chloe’s attempted, reply, before she too found a punch thrown hard into her stomach. Each of the two women dizzy and wobbling, even there on their knees. Each only held up by the other, though they would never admit that to each other.
Denial though they were in, each was aware they could not punch each other much longer. Their arms almost dead weight at their sides, their legs buckling, even in their kneeling state. With that knowledge in mind, and as each leaned their heads against each other’s shoulders, Chloe sought to change tactics — or at least pretend to.
“I thought they … chopped off your … clits….” Chloe struggled to get the words out, but when she did, she used what little arm strength she had left to reach for Zahra’s pussy with her right hand. Her fingers curled, as she dug them into her Arab enemy’s sex.
In her exhaustion, Zahra, even as she let loose a terrible scream of pain, could not even pull away from their clinch. She instead using her hands to try and reach for Chloe’s wrist, even as they continued to lean together. But as her hands withdrew, Chloe’s left hand moved between their pressed bodies and shoved, sending Zahra back just enough for the Jewish host to use her retracted right hand to throw one last right fist into Zahra’s face. The blow, after sending up a spray of blood and sweat, sending the exhausted Arab sprawling back and to the carpeted floor on her stomach.
“Just…. Give…. In…. You rag head bitch….” Chloe demanded as she collapsed forward onto Zahra’s back. The Jewish host then dragging herself into a straddle of her guest’s back with a grip on the latter’s sweat-wet hair.
“NoooOOooo.” Zahra moaned as she felt her neck bend backward painfully. A moan that grew in volume and intensity, as Chloe pulled back harder, and further. The Jewish girl putting all of her energy into the pull, even though she could barely keep herself from collapsing atop her enemy.
“Cry for me….” Chloe demanded as she yanked back at Zahra’s hair. Not just for a moment, but as hard as she could, for as long as she could keep upright. But finally, even as she bent the Arab girl’s neck to the very point of snapping, Chloe finally gave way. She slipping off of her rival’s sweat, blood, and tear-drenched body to the floor. The Jewish girl’s hands being too weak at that point to keep their grip on Zahra’s hair.
Agony though she had been in, as her hair was released, and the weight of her enemy was removed, Zahra clambered and crawled. Moving as fast as she could after Chloe. The Arab arriving just as her host made it back to all fours a foot or two from the couch on which their battle began. A position that left her side open to Zahra’s rising leg which drove into Chloe’s ribs, knocking her back down to the carpeted floor on her side.
“You’re gonna be the one who cries, Jew girl!” Insisted Zahra, before she drove that same leg and knee forward, again.
A blow she then repeated, without stopping. It being the easiest and most painful attack she could muster, as she bent over her enemy. The Arab girl’s left palm on Chloe’s bare hip, and her right on the shoulder of the same. But as knee after knee was driven, and groan after groan of pain came from she who felt them, Zahra began to tire and slow. Her legs resting after every collision. Sometimes, with thighs together, and others, with them apart.
It was on one of the latter pauses that Zahra remained, as she used her right hand to grab Chloe’s hair and lift her head. The Arab college student wanting to see if her Jewish rival had been brought again to tears. “Mmm, good!” Zahra mused, as she saw it — Chloe’s returned tears. “Nothing better than the tears of a jew….” Though she did not even know why she would say it, or where such hatred was coming from, she smirked as she saw Chloe’s face wet with uncontrolled sobbing and pain. That is, at least, before she felt it: nails digging deep into her womanhood.
A womanhood she had left exposed and vulnerable, one that was ravaged by pain, as Zahra began to scream. She not having the focus left to counter, or even defend — the agony she felt too intense and blinding.
“Whose crying bitch? Huh…? WHOSE CRYING, YOU MUSLIM BITCH!?” Chloe asked once and then again louder, as she sat up. Tears still falling from the speaker’s eyes, as her nails dug further and further into her enemy’s cunt.
A cunt, which contrary to expectation was wet. Was soaking. And though immediately the Jewish girl, utterly unfamiliar with sexual attraction to women, sought to insult Zahra about the wetness.
But as she sought for the words, and prepared to part her lips to say them, she found Zahra’s fingers dig deep into her own pussy. A pussy which was no less wet. A pussy which, upon that attack, ached with such pain Chloe cried out.
A cry that came, as if a chorus with one released by Zahra, as each pried and clawed at the other’s pussy. Their wicked digits twisting and pinching each other’s clit and labial folds cruelly. Their nails scraping both within and without the other’s most sensitive and sacred of organs. Their fingers pulling and stretching any soft skin they could reach. And yet, despite all of that, perhaps foolishly, they kept their thighs spread for each other — allowing access, so that they, in turn, would be given the same.
That unspoken agreement leaving the two of them to sit, only a foot or two apart, with one hand buried in their enemy’s wet sex, and the other prying at the wrist of the same. Each of them looking to pull their rival’s weapon loose, so that they alone could torture.
Despite those efforts, however, neither could evict their classmate’s claws. Each being forced to simply endure the pain, as they, in mirrored, cross-legged positions rocked in one direction and then back. Their eyes closed, and tears flowing. Lips opening to let out small, pathetic whimpers, and barely withheld pleas for mercy.
In that mutual state of agony, they settled next to couch and discarded scarf. The pair separately trying to think of some way to end it — preparing for such an attempt, by leaning forward, from their rears to their knees.
But with their eyes closed, they could not see that as they bent forward, their enemy did the same. And so, quickly did their bodies meet. Each again, leaning against the other and laying their chin down on each other’s shoulder, as they tore at each other’s pussy with one hand, and pried desperately at forearm and wrist with the other. Their every whimper delivered right into the ear of their enemy. Their every sound of pain, given like a gift to the woman who hated them most.
It was hell, for each of them — and yet heaven, hearing how much their rival cried. Feeling their tears roll from cheek to shoulder and then down. But finally, when Chloe knew she could take not a second more, she fell back to her ass, extended her legs, and wrapped them around Zahra’s forward-falling body. Or more specifically, her abdomen. The Jewish girl’s hands then moving to her Arab classmate’s wrists to with additional force, pull it away from her cunt.
For a moment, with Chloe’s claws retracted, Zahra breathed a sigh of relief, glad that finally, the pain had ended. But not a moment thereafter did the squeeze set in. A squeeze that caused her to moan, even as her Jewish enemy pulled her even further forward, and almost atop her. The leg scissors of the same perfectly applied, with her ankles locked far behind the olive-skinned girl’s back.
It was then, that as Jewish thighs began to squeeze, Arab ribs began to ache. All as Chloe wrapped her arms around Zahra’s neck, pulling their bodies close, and the lips of the former to the ear of the latter. “Got you, rag-head….” Chloe said in a teasing whisper, her rival’s hands pressing to the carpeted floor to try and find some kind of base to work from.
“Shit, shit, SHITTTTT!!.” That same rival spoke, not to Chloe, but to herself, until Chloe’s thighs flexed, sending a wave of pain through Zahra’s body.
“Mmmm, god, yes!” Cheered Chloe at her enemy’s pain, both the sound of it and the feeling of it. Her enemy’s naked body shivering in misery, even as it pressed to the bare form of she who inflicted as much.
“God, noOOoOOo” Zahra groaned as she collapsed to her side, her hands moving from floor to squeezing thighs to push at them so that she might somehow free herself.
But as Zahra pressed without success at her enemy’s thighs, Chloe shifted. The Jewish girl doing so by using her flexed legs and gripping hands to pull her enemy into a seated position, and herself, into the lap of the same. Her leg scissor still locked in. And her bare breasts resting only inches below her Arab guest’s groaning mouth.
“Give it to me….” Demanded Chloe, without explanation, but instead with a devastating pulse of her thighs, which she closed as tight as she could around her rival’s abdomen.
“NoOoo…. What…? What do you want….?” Asked Zahra in a haze of pain and exhaustion. Her hands moving to Chloe’s thighs once again to push, the force she could muster even less than before.
“Whimper…,” Chloe said, as she pressed her forehead into Zahra’s, almost nuzzling her nose with her enemy.
“What. I do-eRrraaaahhhhhh.” At the sound brought about by another tight squeeze, a whimper as requested, Chloe smiled.
“That’s it…. Mmmm…. Beg me. Beg me to stop. Like your people beg my people for food and water.” No other day. No other moment in her life would she have said such a thing, but there, lost in her battle with Zahra, she had no limits. No mute button. She would say anything and everything to hurt her. To make her mad. To drive them deeper into their hateful cocoon of racial war.
“Fuck y–” Zahra began, defiant still, but before she could even finish her response she found her face buried in Chloe’s tits. The latter having used her free hands to pull the former forward and into them. Nestling the Arab girl’s mouth between two perfectly shaped breasts.
Reacting to that sudden smother, Zahra moved her hands to Chloe’s stomach and pushed, trying to free herself. But it was not her push that allowed as much, for instead, Chloe pulled her own breasts back on her own.
“I love it! You Muslim girls are so weak….” Chided the Jewish host as she continued to hold her prey between her thighs. Squeezing and then softening, again and again. Tormenting she who dared challenge her in her own home. “Do you feel it? When you push me, it does nothing…. You’re mine…. I own you….” She added almost playfully as she lifted her chest in threat, letting Zahra know at any moment she might be smothered again. “No wonder your men always go for white women and leave you alone to fuck the camels.”
“Bitch…. I hate yo–” Again Zahra went to respond, and again her face found itself buried in breasts — Jewish breasts.
“Ah, ah, ah…. No need to be mean; you know it’s true. No man wants an ugly brown bitch like you.” It was then, as those last few words left Chloe’s mouth, that she felt it: Zahra beginning to sob into her breasts.
“Mmm hmm, there you go. Let it out, cunt.” Chloe said softly, before suddenly seizing her legs tight. As tight as she had ever been able to squeeze them so far, her energy returning, as she sat there in her rival’s lap.
And when she squeezed so forcefully, so cruelly, Zahra cried out, yanking her head back from Chloe’s breasts. “Alllaaaaahhhh!” A name — a prayer yelled out before once again, Zahra’s face was pressed between tits.
“Shhh, shhhh, there is only one god and his name is Yahwey.” Again the words sounded soft and almost loving, but they were anything but. They were laced with hatred and filled with venom.
But as those words drifted off, and Chloe listened for whatever sound apart from crying she might hear, Zahra mumbled. Saying something so low, the Jewish girl atop her could not hear it.
“What…? What was that, my Muslim slave?” Chloe asked as she pulled Zahra’s head back from her breasts. But as soon Zahra was clear of those breasts that surrounded her, her Jewish tormentor suddenly felt a sharp tug at the back of her brown hair. A tug that pulled her back, and then back further, at least far enough for Zahra to lean forward and latch her teeth onto the inside of Chloe’s right breast.
A latching — a biting that was delivered with all the fury of a woman who could feel hate to the very depths of her soul. One that caused Chloe to scream out in pain, and as fast as she could, let loose her leg scissors so that she could get away. But even as Chloe withdrew, Zahra followed, maintaining her bite all the way to the ground. Releasing it only as she dove atop her rival’s chest, and with an outstretched arm, lock her deep in a headlock. With Zahra’s underarm and left abdomen pressing down on Chloe’s bare hurt breasts. The sweat from their brows seeping into their cut, bloody, and swollen faces, causing a pain each had to fight just to remain engaged.
“Oh. My. Fucking. GOD! I am NEVER letting you go, you JEWISH PIG! FUCK YOU! JEWISH BITCH! CUNT!” Zahra raged, her mouth exploding like a volcano. She being outraged, even after the pain she inflicted, by all Chloe had done to her.
“Zahra, I….” Chloe began, suddenly terrified by her rival’s anger.
“No! Shut up!” Came her enemy’s reply, as she pulled her headlock tight, angling her host’s neck until she could feel it popping.
“Ooooooohhhh shhiiiitttt, STOP IT!” Chloe demanded before she began raining her fists down wherever she could land them, but just as those fists started to fall, Zahra, rolled slightly to her right, yanking Chloe off the carpeted floor and to her side. A move that muted all the damage the striking girl sought to inflict with her right arm, leaving only a single strike from Chloe’s right hand to make it through.
With that storm weathered, Zahra let her legs push her up, not just to her knees, but then to a stand. And with her feet secure beneath her, and with Chloe coming along for the ride, still stuck in a headlock, the Arab girl tossed. Throwing her Jewish rival forward and into the thick arm of the couch. On which she landed, half over, and half behind. A position she raised up from, only to find herself caught in a body-to-body full-nelson applied by Zahra.
“Alright, you white-skinned bitch….” Zahra began, her ample breasts pressing into Chloe’s back. A sensation that the host might have focused on, were she not so concentrated on finding a way out of her resurgent enemy’s grasp.
“Let me go!” Commanded Chloe, even as she pressed back against Zahra. Trying to move back from the couch so that she might have some room to maneuver herself out of the hold.
But just as Chloe got used to the idea of some kind of struggle, muscle-against-muscle with Zahra. In which she would fight to escape, she suddenly felt the sole of her rival’s foot drive into the back of her knee. A painful and momentarily crippling sensation that sent she down, with her enemy’s weight atop her. Chloe’s face slamming hard into the hard, wooden arm of the couch.
That blow, clever and unexpected as it was, left Chloe spinning, though she did not move. She feeling like her bell had not only been rung but dropped from its tower and shattered. And just as that state of confusion and ache set in, she felt herself forcibly spun around — the arms of her enemy wrapping around her a moment later. A wrapping that was soon thereafter followed by a tug, as her own body pressed to that of her enemy.
Breast-to-breast. Tummy-to-tummy. Mound-to-mound though she suddenly was with her enemy, all Chloe could focus on is the squeeze. One that focused tightly around her middle and lower back. One that forced the air from her lungs and a groan from her lips, as she found herself lifted off the floor.
“Uggghhhh, god!” Cried, Chloe, as the pain set in. A pain that coursed through her bloody, sweat-covered body, a body too tired to turn such a hold into anything other than suffering. Her initial attempts at lifting her legs into some kind of scissor failing, as her muscles found themselves too sore and worn out to assist.
“Mmm hmmm, where is your Yahway, now, cunt!? Huh!?!?!” Zahra demanded to know as she hopped, causing Chloe’s body to lift and then crash back down into the tight bearhug crushing her body.
“Fuck!” Is all that Chloe offered in reply, as she reached behind her, trying, without success, to find some way of prying her rival’s grip loose.
“Weak, Jewish, Bitch! Give it to me!” Demanded the Arab, calling back to what Chloe demanded of her, not but moments earlier.
“Uuugggghhhh….. Hhh…. Hhhhh….” Chloe moaned, as the weight of her own collapsing body began to weigh her down and push her deeper into her enemy’s bearhug.
“That’s right….” Responded Zahra, before she hopped again. An act that once again bounced her rival into the air and then back down hard. The ass cheeks and under thighs of the same crashing down on Zahra’s flexing upper thighs. But with that crash, came a scream of pain, as Chloe’s spine ached without end.
“Mmmm…. Typical Jew! You can dish it out, but as soon as someone hurts you, you cry….” Commented Zahra, her lips curled into a wicked smile of contempt, even as holding Chloe’s sweaty body up began to tire her. “How about one more, bitch….”
One more hop. One more bounce. But on that occasion, just as Chloe came back down, Zahra dropped down to her knees, and caught her rival, only just before she dropped to the same. Making the force with which she slammed down into her classmates’s bearhug exponentially worse. Causing her to not only cry out again, but then to moan — not shortly but in a long, pitiful wail. Her body thereafter falling limp and collapsing against that of Zahra’s.
“Let me…. Let me go….” Chloe whimpered, as she and her rival’s sweaty bodies settled. The former’s leg spread wide, but with knees bent, and held just off the carpeted floor below. A position that put the absolute utmost amount of pressure on her spine.
“No. I told you…. Never….” Zahra’s voice trembled as she spoke, she finding it harder and harder to keep Chloe’s knees from dropping to the ground. A dropping which would provide the relief the Jewish host so desperately sought — an end to the devastating pressure applied to her already weakened lower back.
But in her agony, Chloe could not see that difficulty, especially with her rival’s face pressed forward and leaning into chest. That face, which contorted with exhaustion and effort, being angled away from the brunette’s tear-wet eyes.
And so with no hint, as to how close she was to her suffering be relieved, at least in part, Chloe bent her own body back, raised her arms, and pushed against Zahra’s olive-skinned shoulders. A pushing which came with more whimpers than force, as there was so little strength left in the blue-eyed warrior.
Despite that weakness, the sustained push drained the raven-haired bearhugger’s reserves, causing her to shake as she held on. She and her rival’s bodies covered with sweat and dried blood. Liquids which pooled between them in their long, lingering, and yet one-sided embrace.
“Urrrggghhhhh, AAhhhhh, let me go!” Chloe cried, as her pushing suddenly stopped and she collapsed forward onto Zahra. The Jewish host’s chin coming down to rest on her tormentor’s sweat-sheened shoulder.
At that moment, Zahra wanted to respond. To refuse. To tell her enemy, once again, that she would never let her go — just as she had promised. But her lips could give no such words, nor her lungs provide the air for them, for her strength was failing. Her muscles giving out. And just as Chloe added a pathetic and quivering “Please,” Zahra let her drop. The brunette’s knees finally dropping to the carpeted floor, in a straddle of her Muslim classmate’s hips.
“Thank y–” Began Chloe, she believing that Zahra had released her out of mercy. But just as she began to sound out the words, her enemy once again wrapped, this time, her arms around the host’s middle torso. Pulling her again into a bearhug, but this one bringing the two sweat-covered women chest to chest and face-to-face.
“No, no no, I told you. I’m keeping you — my own little Jewish slut!” Zahra exclaimed before tightening her bearhug and causing Chloe to scream out, with all the volume she could muster. All before her body went limp, she entirely unable to withstand any more of her rival’s squeezing grasp. Even if the point of pressure had been moved. Even if was not her chest, lungs, and breasts which stung, and not her already destroyed lower back.
“Mmm, do you remember that leg scissor, bitch?” Zahra asked as she pressed her forehead to Chloe’s — looking deep into her eyes, as tears continued to fall from the same.
“How you teased me? Hmm, well….” Again Zahra squeezed, and on its effect, Chloe could only moan out in pain and exhaustion. A sound the raven-haired beauty almost consumed, breathing it in as she let her lips linger just a centimeter away from those of the brunette’s.
“No, Zahra. Please….” Chloe began to beg, her body beginning to quake with pain and fatigue from their battle.
“Give in. Submit to me. Jew to Arab. Right. Now.” The words cut Chloe even as she sat there, collapsed in her rival’s squeezing arms.
And in that moment of pain, weariness, and humiliation the two sat. Zahra holding on, and Chloe just remaining. Enduring, if what she did could even be called that. But finally, Chloe raised her hands to Zahra’s shoulders once again. This time, not to push, but pull herself forward and her lips to her enemy’s ear. There, she let loose small, hitched and pained breaths, sounds which made Zahra shudder with excitement.
Not only because they were a sign of her rival’s pain, but because they were the sounds of her defeated classmate preparing to surrender — she was sure of it. Sounds which turned into sensation, as Chloe leaned even deeper into the well between shoulder and neck, and pressed her lips to Zahra’s ear.
Phantom or imagination though it may have been, Zhara, at that moment would have sworn, she felt her enemy licking and nibbling. A feeling, real or not, that made her bearhug loosen and focus wane. And when it did — when the Muslim’s attention was averted if only for a second, Chloe finally spoke. “Never….”
A word which sent both into action. Zahra, searching to re-tighten her grip upon Chloe, and the latter to push in a sudden shove. A shove that angled Zahra back, just far enough for the sudden escapee to lean forward and bite. Just as she had been bitten before, letting her teeth sink into the mocha skin of the inside of her rival’s left breast.
In a blink, the raven-haired woman who had been tricked and pushed, scrambled for distance. A scramble which left her off-balance and ill-prepared for another shove by Chloe, one that sent the beautiful Arab girl careening back and into the arm of the couch on which their battle had begun. Her lower back hitting that bulky wooden edge at the oddest of angles, causing her to groan out in a heavy and unexpected pain.
A pain and a placement Chloe took advantage of, as the brunette thereafter and with speed, charged forward, tackling Zahra. Not up and over, or down and under, but back onto the arm of the couch. A landing which again made Zahra cry out, as Chloe laid on her. The back of the raven-haired warrior aching terribly, as she above her let her weight lean this way and that. She wanting to even the score, and leave their backs equally ruined, even if that equality came from different causes.
Despite her attempts, eventually, their collective weight toppled back, and off of the couch arm. Leaving the two women standing face to face again, even if their legs were weak, and their bodies tired. A mutual state of fatigue that led Zahra to yearn for distance, some space, so that she might for a moment, cradle her lower back and bend to perhaps relieve some of the newly inflicted pain.
With that in mind, Zahra shoved her chest forward and into Chloe’s. A blast of bodies that pushed the gorgeous Jewish girl back, and away in a sloppy stumble. One that came to an end just before she who took that journey spoke. “Don’t you push your weak, Arab tits into mine!”
Through the pain, through the weariness that ravaged her body, Zahra responded, even as she leaned forward hands on her knees. “You…. You don’t even want to compare your Jewish breasts with mine, bitch….”
“Oh, I don’t? And why would that be, huh? You afraid to have your camel udders flattened?” Dared Chloe, she finding her hands pressed to her knees just the same, despite her words of confidence and daring.
Finally bringing herself back up from a deep bend, Zahra glared. Her breaths still heavy, and her every muscle still aching. “Why? Because I don’t know if I want my beautiful areolae and your ugly ones touching! I might catch some kind of ugly tit, Jew disease.”
At the words, Chloe began to storm forward, stopping after only a few steps, realizing, or perhaps remembering that she needed more time to recover. “I’ll make you regret saying that…. You Arab bitch.”
The threat alone seemed to pull Zahra forward, like gravity, but she too stopped, knowing she had to rest. Had to have a few more moments before she could do anything to the enemy that now stood only feet away. “The only one of us who is going to regret anything is YOU. When I get done with breaking your pathetic white tits with mine.”
As glares narrowed, so did the space between them, as Chloe, without intention, moved forward. “Your dirt-brown tits have nothing on mine. You hear me? NOTHING!”
Before she could counter the magnetism that pulled at her or even speak, Zahra again stepped forward, leaving only a half-foot between the two. “These tits…?” The Arab girl began, as she cupped her breasts together in threat. “…are better than yours, bitch…. Especially these sexy little nipples.”
Simple though the challenge was, it was enough to elicit a quick and cruel response. “I will destroy those fucking nipples, you terrorist cunt. You’ll be begging me to stop.” A response, and a step. One that moved Chloe’s body into Zahra’s — their breasts meeting and foreheads pressing together as they continued to glare, eye-to-eye.
“Fuck you.” Zahra almost spat, as she shoved her breasts into Chloe’s in challenge.
“After I’m done with your ugly brown nipples, I might.” Chloe hissed back, their faces so close each could taste the other’s hate-laced breath.
“Please…. When I’m done with your prissy little pink nipples, I’ll be the one fucking.” Came the guest’s retort, one she offered as she pushed her forehead into Chloe’s, a pressure that caused both girls pain.
It was then that the two women fell into silence. Each staring as deep into the other’s soul as they could. Their breasts pressing forward on either side, before falling back. Daring each other to make the first move, though each knew they had to milk the standoff for all they could. Wanting to recoup as much energy as they could before they began the next stage of their battle.
With that in mind, they began to turn. Leaning their upper bodies into each other as they did. Their tear-matted eyelashes meeting and sticking together at their tips as they came closer and closer. Each of the two finding the moment more than electric. More than intoxicating. Neither able to remember a second before, or a thought they had ever had about what their lives might have been like after.
That moment being their everything.
Their rivalry. Their hatred for one another being the sum total of their superficial existence.
And thought that soul-seizing intensity made them quiver and shake as they pressed together. Finally, it drove Chloe to wrap her arms around Zahra, to which the latter did the same. The host’s right arm moving under the guests left, and vice versa. The two dropping from their standing position next to the couch to their knees together. Still forehead-to-forehead. Still glaring. Hating. And desperate to hurt each other.
“I … hate you….” Muttered Chloe, as she felt her rock-hard nipples cross with Zahra’s.
“I hate you … more….” Zahra responded as she tried to deal with that same connection. One of stabbing, rigid nipples crossing like swords — like daggers clashing and sparking in a knife-fight.
Difficult though it was to move past that sensation. Hard as it was to focus elsewhere once those cores had been triggered, Chloe did so. The brunette battler leaning back and smashing her tits in Zahra’s. A collision which caused both of the two women to grunt out in pain and compressed lungs.
A collision which came again, at first initiated by Zahra in retaliation, and then by both in unison. Each of the two allowing their wrapped arms to loose to give them space, only to constrict them a moment later to bring them forward and into each other once again. Each meeting met with a loud slap of sweat-wet flesh. Sweat which found itself kicked up and into their swollen faces.
Sprays and sounds which continued, both with mutual thrusts, and those of one alone, as the two women warred with their breasts. Arab and Jew testing their bodies against one another. Tit against tit. Nipple against nipple. In one of a series of contests, their pride had drug them into. Pride that pushed and pulled them forward and into one another. Again and again. Harder and then softer. Grunts and moans the symphony that played soundtrack to their struggle.
A struggle which continued in silence, until finally, Zahra could resist no more. “I can feel your Jewish tits breaking under mine, slut.”
As the words were hissed, each of they two looked down. Watching their large, mirrored breasts, pressing and flattening together. Each hyper-vigilant of even the slightest hint of one breast overlapping the other’s. “Your brown tits are nothing. You are nothing…. No wonder your men make you cover up so much of your bodies.”
“Bitch!” The copper-skinned Arab girl responded. And though she and her rival insulted and then replied, they were each mesmerized and entirely focused on the war that waged between them.
“Cunt!” Chloe spit back in words, before she let one of her hands drift to Zahra’s black hair and yanked. Not so hard it would move her, but as a small gift of pain. A gift, Zahra replied, as their formerly averted eyes raised and locked to each together. Each glaring. Each hating so much they could taste it.
But even as breasts slammed into breasts, and wounded lower backs threatened to give way in their struggle, they felt something happening. Something they fought with hateful talk, even as their rhythmic slamming slowed, and then suddenly, stopped entirely.
“Fuck….” Zahra exclaimed, almost breathlessly.
“Feel that, Muslim bitch?” Chloe asked, as she felt their nipples clash. Their nipples bend. The Jewish’s girl’s seeming to survive the encounter, if not entirely, a degree or two better, as she found herself able to speak as she continued to tug at her enemy’s hair. But as she reveled in that feeling of dominance, suddenly, with a quick shift of breasts, it was Chloe who was frozen, and Zahra who asked, confidently.
“Do you feel that, Jewessss?” Oh, it was like candy. Like gold. The feeling of Chloe’s nipples bending back. Desperate to escape that feeling, the brunette shifted her breasts. But with every move she made, her rival followed. Keeping their nipples locked together, and Chloe’s pinned.
“Don’t try to get away from me, you weak nippled rat girl. You asked for this….” Even while the words were being spoken, Zahra could see it: the panic in Chloe’s eyes. It replacing her confidence. Her anger. Making her hand drop from her enemy’s hair, even as that same enemy pressed their breasts together with ever greater force.
A tightening of bodies and embrace that made Chloe release a half-whimper, half-gasp, as her own still hard nipples continued to bend. “Oooh, yes! Is this what you wanted, Chloe? To feel what a real woman’s nipples can do?”
Again and again, Chloe tried to escape, to wriggle, to find some new angle at which her own nipples might escape their pin and retaliate. But, with every attempt, Zahra matched her, masterfully. The Arab girl’s nipples dominating those of her Jewish rival to such an extent that the latter’s were driven back. As brown nipples inverted pink ones — the former stabbing and in that way, invading Chloe’s breasts.
An occurrence which, because of the shame of it, caused Chloe to cry again, even as her tormentor hugged her tightly to her as they remained there on their knees. Not out of any love, but to keep that humiliating state secured.
“Mmmmm, cry for me….” Zahra taunted, as she again pressed her forehead to Chloe’s, nuzzling their noses together as cute lovers might. The victorious Palestinian American teasing the breast-ruined Jewish girl in her moment of greatest shame.
A shame that brought only sobs from Chloe, who could not speak, or even move. Her arms going limp, as she let her body do the same. Hoping that Zahra might release her and free her nipples from the torture and degradation of inversion.
“Give in to me….” Zahra demanded in a voice so soft it sounded like it might have been sung by the seraphim.
“Noooo….” Chloe whimpered back pathetically, her tears not stopping, only running down her cheeks to her devastated breasts.
“Say you’re mine….” Once more, the Arab asked.
“Neve–aarrrhhhh….” Began the Jewish girl’s defiant reply, before Zahra pressed herself forward, once again driving her own rock-hard nipples into space once owned by Chloe’s own.
“Oh god….” The brunette whimpered, even as she raised her eyes to Zahra’s. Those eyes beautiful sapphire eyes submitting, even if her mouth would not. Her every bit of snarl gone, replaced by an expression of complete desolation and surrender.
It was only then, when Zahra saw that look on her enemy’s face, that she released her squeezing hug, and with a single hand, pushed Chloe to her back on the carpeted ground.
There, she who had finally been released raised her hands to her breasts — to her nipples, and began to massage. The psychological pain of having her nipples inverted by her rival being almost worse than the pain that she found lingering.
But as she who continued to sob did what she could to move past scars that from that day on would never truly heal, Zahra fell forward. Letting herself drop between Chloe’s spread legs — her own mound coming to a sudden rest atop her enemy’s — that meeting becoming the fulcrum of her missionary mount.
From that mount, Zahra looked down at her prey as sweat dripped, a prey which looked only to the side avoiding all eye contact. She still without even a single flexed muscle or lifted limb. She was Zahra’s to do with as she pleased, the Arab girl assumed and believed. But that unspoken submission was not enough. Not after all Chloe had done and said.
And so Zahra reached out, to the scarf she had been wearing when first she arrived in this home and on this battlefield. Not lifting her body from her enemies, save in the smallest of leans. One that she chanced without worry, certain her rival was bested — beaten — and a shadow of her former, defiant self.
But even as that confidence swelled, and she took the scarf into her hand, Chloe grabbed. Chloe bridged. Chloe rolled, both she and her mounted opponent. Not in part, but in whole, shoving Zahra to her back only a moment before the possum-playing brunette chased after her. The latter placing and securing her every body part above and on top of the same of she with whom she warred. The brunette locking her onyx-haired enemy beneath her. Their bodies perfectly aligned, from toes to forehead.
“BITCH!” Zahra exclaimed, as her hands raised to take retaliatory grasps of Chloe’s hair.
“Thought you had me, didn’t you, cunt!” Chloe responded as she took her own handfuls of her rival’s hair.
Without speaking another word, Zahra struggled to free herself. Lifting her head, only to find it pinned beneath her enemy’s. Straining with her legs to either kick up or shift free, only to find Chloe match the same deftly.
“God! DAMNIT!” The Arab girl seethed, as her efforts stopped.
“Oh … don’t be mad at him. He doesn’t even exist — at least for you.” Like a switch, Chloe’s confidence returned, and she once again set herself to tormenting her classmate.
“Fuck you….” Growled Zahra, as she glared up at she who pinned her. The sweat-covered breasts of the two women pressed together once again, though in a different kind of struggle. One that was body vs. body. Not in part, but in entirety. Every inch of the two women fighting and pushing — one trying to escape and the other to control. A microcosm of their exhausting battle. A window into their competing souls.
To those words and the setting of their contest, the brunette did not respond. Instead, she just laid. Focusing her every thought on making this the end of their battle. No distraction. No discussion.
At least if Chloe could resist the urge to taunt her foe…. At least if she could quell the part of herself that squealed with glee every time Zahra felt frustration and pain….
Into that silence, one matched by Zahra who concentrated her energy on escaping her enemy’s pin, they together drifted. Their eyes breaking from their long glare, as their heads turned and swollen, bruised, and bloodied cheeks came together to rest.
Rest though such cheeks did, and speak though the two did not, still it came. “Uuuuggggghhhh….” A grunt from Zahra, who pressed upward with everything she had left, an everything that felt like nothing at that moment.
“Hmmmmmnnnn….” And as one came from the Arab, so too did one come from the Jew atop her, who pressed herself down. Even against her rival’s cinnamon-colored left hand, which strained against ivory left shoulder, pushing until the former gave way in utter failure.
At that attempts defeat, they just rested. Each of them. Neither moving or taunting. Just saving up whatever they could for the next attempt. The next of what could be an infinite number of contrary pushes. One that came and then passed. Followed by more that passed and then came.
Each of the two women draining every ounce of energy they had left to bring their battle to a close. One hoping they had reached its end, and the other hoping there was but one more reversal of fortune left to occur.
It seemed like hours that they laid there — Chloe on top and Zahra on bottom, with nothing but a pool of sweat beneath them earned by their efforts. But in reality, it was only a paltry third of such a period. A mere twenty minutes that the two enemies laid there struggling against and with each other.
At least before the slickness of their thighs caused Chloe’s to slip, and Zahra’s to escape — at least for a second or two. A state ended as within a blink their legs coiled around each other. Such desperate wrapping coming to an end as the small bend between Chloe’s foot and shin caught behind Zahra’s Achilles tendon. The legs of the two rivals bound at that moment, in a tight, muscle-seized grapevine.
A catching that caused Zahra to break the silence and curse, “Bitch.”
A lament responded to by Chloe in a voice more hiss than whisper. “Got you.”
“Get off me.” Zahra demanded, as she once again found herself trapped. But even as she asked, she fought, using her legs to try and will her way out of their grapevine. But as Zahra exerted, Chloe did too, causing their legs to quake as they fought one another with their lower halves.
But with her placement on top, and also in the vine behind, Chloe was able to bend Zahra’s legs out and up, causing the latter to groan out in pain. The legs of the beautiful Palestinian American bending in a way they were not meant to bend.
“Owe, FUuuGgHH….” Came words of pain, that turned into words of pleasure. The mounds of the two women laid perfectly atop one another. With the apex of their sexs finding themselves forced and then ground together whenever such a battle of legs came back to a settlement.
A sensation not lost on Chloe, who even in her dominance, shuddered. Her lips letting loose a small whimper of pleasure, as her eyes closed, and her brutalized cheek rubbed against her rival’s.
“Do it again, bi–” Chloe demanded in taunt, but before she could even finish, Zahra had begun. Her legs flexing, as she once again attempted to power her way out, even with the consequence of such attempt known to her.
An action which caused not one, but both girls to whimper together, cheek-to-cheek, as they laid there together on the carpeted floor of Chloe’s home.
It was only then that it came back to her. Something that seemed to have happened lifetimes ago, and yet still, it had returned. Zahra’s wetness. The wetness Chloe felt when she dug her nails in to destroy. But before that thought could be examined and analyzed, it came again. Zahra’s legs flexing, Chloe’s clasping, and the sensation that came thereafter.
One that again made the two warring women whimper, and this time, to turn their heads. Leaving themselves no longer cheek-to-cheek, but once again forehead-to-forehead.
“Cunt.” Whispered, Chloe.
“Whore.” Responded, Zahra. Each in a voice so quiet, it seemed as if they were hiding them from anyone else who might hear, though no such persons existed. The shame of it making them each want to hide, but not separate…. But not stop….
And yet still, in the pause that then lingered, Chloe’s mind spiraled. From the wetness to the holds she had locked Zahra in, and then those her enemy had applied to her. The pain of them. The sounds they made. But most of all, the closeness.
But just as it all dawned on her, the intimacy of their struggle, Zahra once again tried to escape, pushing with all of her might. Their bodies quivering and expending what seemed to be their very last reserves of strength. But when it ended — once more in failure. The struggle, again the pleasure came.
A pleasure which caused their breaths to catch, and lips to quiver together, as each leaned in closer. Each of the two letting loose the smallest, most delicate sounds of lust and desire one has ever heard.
A sound that led Chloe to open her eyes, and find, for the first time, her foe’s glare without fire. In fact, it was no glare at all, but instead something more akin to the gaze of a caged tiger at the zoo. She being so exhausted. So overwhelmed by all that had happened, that she could offer nothing, save for the glisten of barely withheld tears.
But even in the shock of seeing as much, Chloe found the focus to press her advantage. She leaning to the left, and with her body pinning Zahra’s right arm. All while her right hand moved to the Arab’s left wrist, and grabbed it. The Jewish girl, only a second later pulling it up, and above her rival’s head of black hair. With it there, and before Zahra knew what was occurring, Chloe grasped, and locked down that overhead wrist tightly.
The pinning host leaving her classmate without hands with which to act, while leaving herself open to do so, at least with one. A one that quickly rose, and cupped Zahra’s swollen, cheeks, even as Chloe looked down, her eyes alight with desire and triumph.
“Now…. Give in to me.” Chloe demanded again, this time, confident that she would get the submission she sought.
And yet still. Despite the look in her opponent’s eyes and the trapping that just occurred, Zahra refused. “Never….” It was the same word each had said to the other throughout their battle, and yet … something about this utterance was different. It lingered longer — the voice of its speaker hushed and wanting.
The sound of it, though maddeningly sexy, was not enough to soften Chloe’s approach to getting what she wanted. And so, with a quick shift, and a release of their grapevine, the Jewish girl let her own sweaty body slide off of Zahra’s. Then, once her white hip landed just to the side of her rival’s brown one, Chloe wrapped her legs around her enemy’s right leg. Locking her in tight, just as she who locked began to lower her head.
A lowering that came with a leaning, as the brunette brought her mouth to Zahra’s hard, brown nipple. “Give….” Chloe commanded as her lips sealed and teeth slowly clenched.
With a hot gasp, Zahra began to squirm, as she found herself both wanting Chloe’s mouth atop her nipple, but also fearing the same.
“No, I won’t….” The words, when written, sound confident, but they could not have been said with any less force. Her voice wavering like a candle in the strongest of winds.
Without a response, Chloe’s teeth locked down, hard at first — cruel at first, only to soften a moment later. The Jewish girl’s tongue being applied thereafter, to softly lick and play with the nipple within her mouth.
“Owe! FUCK!” Zahra cried as her rival’s teeth bit in, but then, as that pain softened, she moaned. The feeling of her enemy’s tongue gliding across the center of her breast being too much to ignore.
“You fucking, dyke … let me g–GOOODDD!” Zahra began to protest, even as her voice shook with excitement. But just as she neared the finish of her rejection — her lie, Chloe bit again. Harder. Letting her teeth keep their pressure longer. Only to again dissolve into a soft, sexual nibbling.
“Give….” Came Chloe’s only verbal response. One that came just as her free right hand came down harshly against Zahra’s swollen left cheek.
“No!” Zahra almost screamed, more to convince herself of her seriousness than Chloe. And yet, even as the sound of it echoed through their domestic battlefield, Zahra cried out again. Not in words, but in a pained whimper. One elicited by a sudden tug on her onyx-black hair. A pull by that same, free hand of Chloe’s. One that kept it’s grip, warning Zahra that should she refuse, it would pull again.
“Please…. I….” The seemingly broken Arab girl began, before she found herself again interrupted, this time by pleasure. As Chloe again began to play with her nipple. Not with a bite, but with a stroking tongue that sought to reward her for wavering on the precipice of defeat.
“I…. OWWEEEE!!!” Came another wounded wail, as Chloe pulled at hair again.
“Fuck! Ok, I…. I….” Still she could not say it. Still she would not give in. And so Chloe moved her hand again. This time. Not to cheek. Not to hair. But lower. But further. Until it slowly began to slide down Zahra’s stomach. It moving every second closer to the Arab girl’s soaking wet core.
Sensually and teasingly though Chloe’s fingers moved at first, as it neared Zahra’s sex, those fingers stood. And the nails at their tip began to dig in. Harder and harder. Deeper and deeper. Until they crossed over Zahra’s mound, threatening to stab. To destroy when they arrived.
That threat, her own escalating desires, and the utter exhaustion that gripped her made Zahra squirm. She trying weakly to escape, and free herself from Chloe’s multi-level grasp. But just as those efforts began to wane, the fingers of she who battled them arrived.
Those digits pressing down and in, as they slowly entered the sex of the pinned Arab girl. Softly at first. Teasingly. So much so that Zahra began to moan out in expectant pleasure. But before such thirst was quenched or the intentions of inserted fingers were made known, the brunette spoke, the sound of it reverberating through Zahra’s excitement-hardened nipple. “Tell me you’re sorry.”
At the speaking, seconds passed. Chloe waiting. And Zahra thinking. Should she concede? Was it truly all over? Could she find some way of escaping and carry this battle on?
But then, as those questions came and went, Chloe savaged the pondering Arab. Her placed fingers gouging, and teeth which had lingered over nipple bit down, harder than at any point before.
A two-pronged attack that caused Zahra to scream out in horror, just as her body seized and free leg kicked. All of which occurred, just before she finally said it. “I GIVE! I GIVE! I’M SOOOOORRRRRRYYYYY!!! STOOOOPPPP!!!!”
But Chloe did not stop, not at first. Letting her nails and teeth continue their torture until finally, she felt Zahra’s body give in completely. It falling lip to the floor, as she whimpered in pain.
It was only then, that the pain stopped. Only then that bite again softened into kiss, and stabbing, scraping fingers began to stroke.
“Allah…. Please….” Zahra almost moaned, as Chloe finally stopped hurting her.
“Yuusss, don’t call to him — call to me….” Chloe responded, even as she continued to lavish her bested rival’s nipple with affection.
“Chloe, I’m….” Just as she began, Chloe sought to stop her. The victorious Jewish girl driving her fingers deep, just as she withdrew her mouth from Zahra’s nipple. She, once again, leaning up to look into her defeated enemy’s eyes.
“You are mine….” The brunette said in a voice, more confident and strong than at any point before. And yet, despite that tone, Zahra resisted — refusing to respond in word or action, she not yet willing to fully give in, even if her words of submission had done just that.
“Mine!” Chloe yelled, as her fingers curled once again, digging into Zahra’s defenseless pink walls. A return to violence that finally earned a response from Zahra: a yelp. A sound of terror that came, just before she who gave it nodded softly, as her eyes closed in shame.
A shame that was betrayed to Chloe, as tears began to roll down the Arab girl’s cheek. A symbol of submission — of defeat so complete that the pinning brunette then released Zahra’s wrist, setting her left hand free.
A hand which did not suddenly attack, but instead moved to Chloe’s shoulder, to lay there softly. A softness which did nothing to stop Chloe from suddenly seizing at Zahra’s hair and tugging.
“Bitch…. I beat you…. I showed you…. I’m stronger! I’m better…. Jewish woman vs. Arab woman. White body vs. brown body.” Chloe added as she studied her rival’s face for reaction. The comment meant to test and needle her defeated classmate, the harshness of the comparisons made intentional, if not earnestly felt.
“You beat me….” Zahra responded in a voice that trembled as Chloe pulled hard at her hair again. The comment giving only what the Arab truly felt. That she had been beaten, though not her race or her people.
Despite the words and the manner, Chloe seemed almost lost, as if the waves of their battle continued to carry her. As if her classmate’s momentary resistance, was one she had to continue to break.
So much so that even when Zahra looked up at the brunette with soft, defeated eyes, Chloe spat. Her saliva landing on her Arab rival’s face, and dripping down, only a moment before the same was pulled into a kiss.
A kiss that was harsh and dominant on one side, and on the other, light and yielding. The two again mixing hate with desire — loathing with lust, as their tongues swirled together. Chloe’s stabbing and pinning, and Zahra’s retreating and pushing back only in the weakest of ways. She knowing that even the slightest resistance might push her enemy to hurt her again.
And yet, even after that kiss, one so heavy and hot that drool seeped out of the corner of their connected mouths, Chloe still pulled back and glared into Zahra’ eyes.
At that moment Zahra expected to be hurt again, but instead of slapping hand or pulling hair, Chloe withdrew and then after a moment, drove her fingers deep into Zahra’s sex.
“Remember when we talked about fucking?” the brunette asked, as her fingers began to push in and then drag out, not once, but again and again. Journeys which caused Zahra to moan out, even as she found Chloe’s body press down on her. The Jewish beauty keeping the defeated Arab pinned, as she continued to finger her.
Despite the moans her lips gave, and the finger that pushed in and then pulled out of her sex, Zahra began, once again, to hate Chloe’s dominance. Or more specifically, her own role as submissive — earned though it was. She wanted to clash with her. To war with her rival once more. Not as the loser but as equal! But even as that desire grew in Zahra, Chloe sought to squelch it.
“Do you remember, bitch!?” Chloe screamed as she tugged again at Zahra’s onyx-black hair.
Conceded the fight though she had. Responded softly, and in every way she felt Chloe would have wanted, though she did, Zahra quickly began to return to her previous, hateful state. “I remember….” The Arab girl growled through gritted teeth, her eyes beginning to catch fire once again.
Chloe, sensing her opponent’s returning rebellion, began to finger harder and faster. Using her digits to force Zahra, she who felt that returning rage, to close her eyes and moan. Her body once again settling into its state of submissive softness, as Chloe whispered.
“Moan for me, slut. Cum for me….” At first the words caused Zahra to tense, perhaps on instinct alone, but as she did, Chloe applied her own thumb to her enemy’s clit. A thumb that swirled and pressed, at just the right angles, causing Zahra’s lips to let loose a small and pathetic whimper.
A whimper that was drawn again and again, by Chloe, as she glared at her pinned rival. She loving the feeling of extinguishing the returning fire of her enemy, even if it came by pleasuring her. The look of hate on the Arab’s face fading, only to be replaced by ecstasy. A traitorous ecstasy. One that Zahra hated to the very depths of her soul.
And yet it held her….
Ravaged her and caused her to moan out, not for a lover but for her enemy. To cry not at, but for that enemy’s touch to linger. To continue. To catch speed and drive deeper.
Spiral as she did, Zahra was barely able to judge the passage of time or how long she laid there quivering at her rival’s resistance-quelling touch. Not until an orgasm was so close, that the bested Arab girl could feel it, no taste it brimming on the edge of her nether.
And just then. Just when she had finally abandoned all hopes of counter and escape. When her soul had broken not just from pain but pleasure, that Chloe spoke again. “Tell me you’re mine….”
It was the same demand, just reissued, and yet Zahra still tried to fight it. Tried to refuse. “Nooo….”
At that refusal, Chloe’s fingers came to a sudden and cruel stop. One that was followed by a slow, torturous withdrawal. A withdrawal that made Zahra scream. “NooOOooO!!! Please….”
“Say it….” Demanded Chloe once again, even as she felt her rival’s free hand wrap around her wrist, fighting to push removed fingers back inside.
“I can’t! I hate you!” Zahra said, her voice more plea for mercy than a rational response. But even as that plea was spoken, Chloe made the state of she who spoke it worse, the brunette then removing even her swirling clit-bound thumb.
A removal that sent Zahra crashing down from the heights of ecstasy, further and further, the cinnamon-skinned beauty careening into desperation. Her own free hand moving to try to finish what her enemy refused to, but even that, Chloe thwarted. The brunette fending off Zahra’s hand, as the fingers on it tried to enter and fuck her own desperate, aching chasm of ungiven-climax.
It was then, that with all hope of cuming without giving what was asked had been lost, that she said it — that she conceded her rival’s complete and utter dominance. “Ok, ok, GOD! I’m yours! Please…. Don’t stop! Please, Chloe…. I’m yours….” It was then, with closed eyes, that Zahra expected it all to return. The fingers. The thumb. The pleasure that had drug her so very, very close to an orgasm.
An orgasm she needed worse than any drug or any thing she had ever wanted in her life. The excitement of their long, exhausting, shameful battle driving that hunger. Making it feel that if she did not cum — and did not release, even on her enemy’s fingers, the poison that had controlled her those lays few hours would never pass. That she would spend the rest of her life addicted to what she felt in that battle. The pain. The hatred. The feeling of fighting another woman, in the most desperate of ways.
But instead of her own needs being fulfilled, came the opposite. As Chloe’s body peeled from hers, for a moment, only to lower back down atop it. Not side-by-side in the seeming unending pin they had laid in, but with Chloe’s sopping wet sex lowered atop Zahra’s chin. The victorious Jew lowering herself in a forward-facing facesit on her broken Arab enemy. The sweat-drenched inner thighs of the former sliding down the swollen cheeks of the latter, leaving the dripping wet sex of one just above the mouth of the other.
A mouth that begged, as the eyes above it looked up at Chloe’s beautiful ivory breasts, which swung as their owner found her true throne. “No! Nooo, finish me! You have to! I’m yours! I swear, I give in!”
“Prove it, bitch….” Came Chloe’s cold reply as she drug her molten hot kitten forward and over’s Zahra’s mouth. Her own woken clit coming to a hard rest on the nose of the same.
The hands of she who had been defeated landing on Chloe’s thighs in hard, palm-heavy slaps. Once, and then again, only to remain, and then squeeze. Squeeze, and then claw. Claw, and then soften. Soften, and then rest.
All as Chloe began to shift her sexy, apple-shaped, college-girl bottom left and then right. Toying with her victim. Trapping her in a mist and fog of sexual essence, sweat, and plea-sprayed saliva.
“LICK ME BITCH! NOW!!!” Chloe demanded, as she suddenly grabbed and yanked at Zahra’s matted black hair. A tug she repeated and then worsened, every second her Arab opponent did not comply.
But finally, when enough pain had been inflicted, Zahra began to lick. And when she did — when her tongue snaked out of her mouth and found Chloe’s throbbing clit, the latter screamed out in absolute bliss. “Yes! Yes…. Got you….” She continued, as her joyous cry became a quivering whisper of achievement.
“Fuck…. Fuck….” The joyous brunette chanted, as her rival — her enemy, continued to serve her. To lick her. To do as she was asked, proving that she had finally, completely, given in.
After all the fighting. After all the struggling. After all they had drug one another through, they had arrived. Supremacy. Submission. Victory….
A thought. A concept. A happening that began to crack Chloe’s dam in only moments. Not because Zahra was some mistress of lesbian sex or commander of clit. But instead because the battle the two women just waged with and against each other was beyond anything either had ever experienced. Anything they had ever imagined.
The raw need to dominate and control one another.
The gravitational pull that drug each to the very worst of their natures. Not because they believed what they had said. Not because they truly cared about the plights of their own people. But because they wanted….
“Oh, goooooodddd — FFUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKK!!!!!!! YEEESSSS!!!!!” Chloe yelled amongst screams of ecstasy, all as her body seemed to implode with wave after wave of crippling, soul-shattering pleasure. A pleasure which caused her to collapse forward, and after a short, juice-smearing drag across Zahra’s face, to collapse to the floor, just above the head of the same.
There she laid quivering. Mumbling to herself. Her body wracked by pleasure. And her mind cracked and ravaged by quenched thirst and unforgettable lust.
But even in that state of utter destruction. Even as she felt as if she could pass out, right there and then, only to sleep for a thousand years. Chloe pressed herself from the floor and then on all-fours crawled over to Zahra who sobbed in shamed despair.
Despite that state, Chloe grabbed and lifted, pulling Zahra to her knees. The bested Arab girl terrified of what new horror might await her. But instead of some new hold or humiliation, Chloe reached down between her enemy’s juice-soaked thighs, and once again inserted her fingers into Zahra’s sex.
An insertion that caused both victor and victim to collapse back to their asses in exhaustion, Chloe using her last vestiges of strength to cling and finger. To finish her rival, and bring her, before all had ended, to orgasm.
Because Zahra deserved it. She had given her everything and lost just as much. Something Chloe understood, as she wobbled, and then collapsed forward into her brown-skinned opponent. Each of the two weary warriors leaning into each other not to fall, either to the ground or apart.
All as the room spun around them. Their bodies aching. Their every fiber crying for them to rest and recover. And yet, even in that state of mutual of destruction, Chloe continued to finger. Harder and harder. Faster and faster. Deeper and deeper. Until Zahra, gasped. Until she grabbed. And then in a sudden starfall of ecstasy, she came.
“Oooohhhh fuuuuuggggnnnnnnnUUUUGGGGHHHHH!!” It was not a scream or a shout, but a deep, animalistic groan. One that Zahra released, as Chloe, without sinking in teeth, bit at her cheek. A phantom gnawing that occurred, just as Zahra collapsed headfirst into Chloe’s lap.
A sight that was the victorious brunette’s last, as only a second later, she too fell, not forward but backward.
She and her rival finally at peace, after. So. Much. War.