Thirty-Five Years
Brings Déjà vu to Reality
By H.G. Hunt
Chapter 3
Jean sneered and came forward; giving Lisa only enough time
to take half a step and get her hands up where they met
Jean’s outstretched hands in mid air. The tussle began and
it started purely as a test of strength and balance. The
tiny quarters gave them little room and within moments they
had bumped into the bunk bed, the desk, the closet door and
for several moments neither girl gained any advantage.
“You bitch! I’ll fuck you up for coming in here like you
did.”
Their arms were out to their sides, straining to push back
and overpower each other, bringing their firm breasts into
contact. Jean grunted in exertion as she stared hateful
daggers into Lisa’s eyes, only millimeters away from her
face. “Not in your lifetime cunt licker.”
They continued to struggle for control. Lisa grunted, “We’ll
see who the cunt licker is. I think I’ll enjoy giving you a
taste of real pussy, you whore.”
Jean strained with everything she had and it seemed that
Lisa’s arms were beginning to tire. The sweat was already
beading up on their skin from the combination of their
exertions and the warm May afternoon. Jean got a leg behind
Lisa and managed a takedown of sorts. Inelegant for sure,
but productive nonetheless as they landed first on the edge
of the bed and then bounced to the floor with Jean mostly on
top. Their hand-grips gave way and the two grappled for
supremacy. Between grunts and the sound of straining effort,
they continued their trashy barrage of insults, as they
sought for something more effective. The wrestling continued
nearly even, with each girl having moments of advantage, but
never able to keep it for very long. They rolled over and
over, back and forth repeatedly as they sought some measure
of control. Their warm bodies were glistening delightfully
in the sun that shone in through the 4th floor southern
window.
Lisa’s burning hatred fueled her drive to win, at the same
time she could feel a surging ooze of sexual arousal,
unwanted, but nevertheless unmistakably present. She had a
headlock on Jean and was squeezing with all her might,
hoping to force Jean to submit and give up. But Jean, fueled
by an equal drive, and stubbornly trying to avoid the same
sensation that was creeping into her groin, was not about to
let tramp Lisa take any advantage. She reached up and
grabbed Lisa’s hair and began pulling with her left hand
while her right hand fought to dislodge Lisa’s grip on her
head. Her left breast was smashed into Lisa’s right breast.
The slippery cushion between them slid back and forth as the
tussling girls fought.
Lisa grunted in pain (not loud enough for the dorm’s other
girls to hear through the walls). “You BITCH! Is that the
way you want it?” The pain in her scalp caused her to switch
tactics and copy Jean’s latest move. With both hands she
latched onto Jean’s mane and yanked her across her lap. In
doing so Jean ended up on top of Lisa and the two girls now
were both pulling hair with all their might, both hands
trying to rip their opponent’s lovely tresses off.
Eventually the exertion of their muscles began to take its
toll. The pace slackened a bit, but the epithets and
grunting continued as they toiled in seething anger. Lisa
summoned up all her strength and by letting go of Jean’s
hair for a moment she managed to roll Jean from her perch.
Jean responded by letting go of Lisa’s hair and her arms
snaked around Lisa in a bear hug, trying to swing back on
top. She managed to do it, but Lisa once again was able to
retaliate and the two went back and forth, hugging tightly
and rolling around on the floor, their sweaty bodies in
tight contact, jostling for top position. Only five minutes
had elapsed, but the effort was draining their energy.
Neither could mount an effective offense and then sustain an
advantage.
The tightly intertwined bodies, legs interlocking and
seeking an advantage, the pace slackening, and the soft feel
and sensual touch of feminine skin-on-skin contact had
re-invigorated their arousal. Their breasts had been waging
a battle, stuck between their sweat-soaked torsos as they
were. Their furry love-triangles would often grind across
each other as the war continued. Was it on purpose? Would
either have admitted it if it were true?
After a dozen or more rolls back and forth across the narrow
carpeted space, Jean found herself on top of Lisa again as
they gasped for air. Finally not even enough breath remained
for a continuance of their epithets and trash talk. (Breath
spent talking was energy that couldn’t be used for
fighting.)
Lisa, her breasts feeling the downward push of Jean’s
sweat-coated boobs and the heat given off by her warm
crotch, didn’t have the energy needed for another roll. She
tried to rest and recoup her wind, without giving away the
fact that she was exhausted. All she could manage was an
upward thrust of her hips, hoping to unseat her rival, or at
least make her aware that there was “fight” left in her. It
didn’t work. Jean had just enough presence of mind and
enough weight to keep Lisa’s thrusts from unseating her. Two
more thrusts; then came three more. Jean felt Lisa’s dark
pussy fur smashing into her own brown tangle of pubic hair.
She also felt the heat emanating from Lisa, especially her
groin. Her body seemed on fire. Jean’s reaction was easily
deduced. She humped back. Bang! Bang, bang, bang. Bump,
bump, bump. The two girls thrust their pelvises hard at each
other, the fur from their mounds mixing and intertwining and
colliding deliciously. Lisa’s legs inched apart and soon
Jean’s followed suit. They positioned themselves for more
intimate acquaintance. Their hard breathing continued, as
neither girl had recovered any substantial portion of the
energy that had been expended in their wrestling.
“Fuck you.” Jean managed a soft whisper in Lisa’s right ear.
Her open legs allowed her pussy to find Lisa’s
wet-as-a-dishrag lips and the slippery confluence sent
spikes of pleasure through her body. She felt Lisa shiver
underneath her as she heard her coolly purr back, “Fuck
YOU!”
Their matched-up pussies slithered and humped together for a
little while, each girl intently focusing on the stirring
and mixing of their melting pots. “I think it is you that
gets all slimed up for me, bitch.” Lisa remarked, making
reference to Jean’s comment of earlier.
“Oh, I can feel you’re as wet as they come, whore. I’ll bet
you come real soon, as hot as you are now,” Jean blurted
out. “Feel my pussy bringin’ you off. Doesn’t it feel gooood?”
She let the word roll slowly off her tongue.
“No! You’ll be the one screaming. MY pussy will devour your
little girl slit.” Lisa moaned a bit from the pleasure, but
she desperately wanted to make Jean eat her words and she
could feel the approaching orgasm, as her loins began to
pump harder into Jean’s downward smashing pussy. To try to
achieve her goal, she summoned all her remaining strength,
from deep in the depths of her fortitude, and miraculously
managed to force Jean off and she was able to quickly mount
her like a cowboy rides a steer in a stunning reversal of
position.
Now, in the superior position, Lisa reached back and grabbed
Jean’s legs at each knee and pulled them up so she could
straddle her splayed open pussy. Her own legs were wide
apart and she had perfect aim towards her enemy’s target
slit. Using her clit as a little dagger she slid it down the
length of Jean’s twat, her body shivering, piercing between
Jean’s soaked lips and sending shock waves of pleasure
through her clit. Her hips began fucking Jean good and hard,
their clits meeting head-on and their labia deliciously
sliding together up and down, back and forth, diagonally and
every which way. Jean’s ass inched backwards across the
carpet with every powerful thump. The two humping wildcats
were both approaching that orgasmic point of no return.
TO BE CONTINUED