Thirty-Five Years
Brings Déjà vu to Reality
By H.G. Hunt
Chapter 10
Tension or not, the ladies were here for action and fun!
Jean and Lisa simultaneously removed their bikini bottoms,
allowing their full naked glory exposure to the air, wind,
sun, and all those eyes. Jean, while not usually this easily
convinced to display her sexy body, felt emboldened by her
crushing desire to out-do Lisa at everything sexual.
Displaying her naked body to the assembled multitude was
only a start, and she knew it. The feelings welling inside
her, first and foremost, were that of total freedom,
exhilaration and joy at finally, finally, finally having an
opportunity to address that burning desire within her loins
that had lingered way too damn long.
The gathered witnesses ogled Lisa and Jean as they resumed
their little “dance.” Jean swayed and slowly stepped
counterclockwise in a curving path, as Lisa did the same
around Jean. It was almost as if they were a pair of binary
stars orbiting a central focus, their heat radiating out to
be shared by the planets situated in their own tightly
bunched orbits around the “mother suns” of their solar
system. Jean’s body, past its most perfect prime, but only a
little, was still quite a sight to behold. Her light brown
hair was kept stylish with visits to the salon where the
blonde streaks and highlights were well done. Her hair was
tapered and longer in the back, barely reaching her neck.
This accent to her high cheekbones and soft hazel eyes
created a very pleasant sight for the group to admire. Her
broad shoulders manipulated long and strong arms, with
barely a jiggle to give away the slightest hint of her age.
Her breasts, while not prodigiously large, were full and
alluring. She usually wore 40C bras that supported her
appealing glands. Further south, her tummy was really the
only spot where the absence of her youthful metabolism made
itself most known. Her small paunch, while visible, was not
a distraction from her overall sexy beauty. There were a few
unwanted inches for sure, but the overall effect of her
shape was that of pleasant and sexy feminine maturity. Her
hips flared nicely outward, further evidence of her female
gender. Her legs absorbed many of the gathered spectators
drooling stares. While firm and shapely, they were of a
sturdy composition, hinting at the strength in her glutes,
calves, quads, and hamstrings. The thickness of her legs was
one of the first distinguishing characteristics noted by
“the nine.” Jean was paying no attention to this however.
She knew she was a damn fine sexy 55-year old, and she
didn’t care at all about her “age”. She knew that Lisa found
her sexy and attractive, as much now as she had those
decades ago. It was apparent from the first moments they
shared in the hospital break room barely 24 hours earlier.
The “nine’s” gaze jumped back and forth between the two.
When they gazed at Lisa they saw an impressively seductive
mature woman. She had retained the dark hair of her youth;
now shorter, and with very little gray. Like Jean’s it
sported a common style for women in their 50s; shorter in
the front and longer in the back, falling just beyond
shoulder length. Her brown eyes sparkled with life every
day, but they glowed especially bright today. The crowd
could easily see through the beauty, finding an almost cruel
burning fire that looked as if it could not be easily
quenched. Her upper body, shoulders, and chest were strong
looking, but slightly smaller than Jean’s except for one
quite prominent pair of glands. Her breasts were larger,
rounder, and even slightly firmer to the eye than those Jean
wore on her chest. While Jean’s light pink nipples pointed a
few degrees below horizontal, Lisa’s, were not hanging as
low on her chest as Jean’s. They appeared to point straight
ahead. Both women’s areolas were of the softly-blurred-edge
variety, with Lisa’s appearing to have a slightly smaller
diameter than Jean’s. The very tip of Lisa’s nipples sported
a slightly darker hue of pink, hinting at red in the summer
sun. Venturing south, Lisa’s stomach, like Jean’s couldn’t
claim wash-board abs, but neither was it overly paunchy. The
feminine fat that extended just below her navel was not the
least unsightly. Her hips were practically a slightly
reduced copy (an inch or two if most of the spectators had
been forced to guess) of Jean’s in shape and apparent
firmness. The legs that supported her torso, while appearing
strong and sexy, were noticeably less robust than her foe’s.
While the scale means little, Jean outweighed Lisa by about
15-18 pounds, mostly due to the extra two inches of height
she possessed.
The strutting continued, with every ‘planet’ keenly aware of
the imminent conflagration that would soon commence at the
center of their solar system.
For three or four minutes the women glared at each other,
brown eyes bore into hazel; hazel boring back. Heart rates
jumped, tingling tension filled their skin and the air
around the glen. Brent snapped pictures, the multitude got
comfortable. Their eyes challenged each other; neither
backed down. Lisa felt her hatred grow, unaware until now
that the loathing she had felt for Jean over the intervening
years, was only a fraction of what it proved to be now that
those evil eyes were challenging her from only a foot away.
Her facial expression gave away all of that emotion. Jean
could see it. The “nine” (ten, counting Brent) could see it.
Jean could see it and smell it. It fueled her disdainful
looks even more. She too felt the elevation of disgust as
Lisa’s eyes lasered in on her own. At about 3 minutes the
two ceased their orbital routine, stopping in their tracks.
A mere 6 inches separated their faces, their hanging breasts
nearly touching. The stare-down was ending and there was no
winner: save for “emotion”. Whatever amount of contemptible
feelings had existed before, were now only multiplied
between Lisa and Jean. The “ten” felt the excitement and
they began perspiring even more than the humid air demanded.
Lisa instigated the change in focus. Her eyes lowered
towards Jean’s chest, taking in her rival’s breasts, and
making comparisons with her own. A haughty smile crept
across her face as she reconfirmed her suspicions about
having the advantage in breast size as compared to Jean. Her
leering gaze, while not totally unbiased, gave her an
instant feeling of superiority. Not only were her breasts
larger, they were also firmer than Jean’s. In neither case
was the difference substantial, but it was enough to be
noted by all ten viewers, even Jean’s faithful husband
Brent. The one who didn’t seem to share the view was Jean
herself. Maybe it was the hatred for Lisa. Well, for sure,
it WAS the hatred for Lisa. She couldn’t recognize even a
sliver of the truth about their breasts. To her, the visual
aspect of what was about to take place was not even a blip
on her radar. Breasts were for sex; made to FUNCTION. She
knew her boobs were magnificently suited for their purpose
and Lisa’s challenging tits were just another barrier she
had to cross to prove it to everyone. She would have
thrilled just to prove it to Lisa alone, but so much the
better that there would be others to see it too, especially
her husband. She let thoughts of Brent streak through her
head for just a moment, enjoying the recollection of all the
lustful times they shared, with her breasts as the focus.
Those mental images motivated her for what was about to
happen.
Lisa drew on her own reserves of power; recalling with great
clarity the superiority of her own breasts in the only
titfight she’d ever had, as well as the tremendous weapons
they were in the battle between the sexes in her own
bedroom. What stimulation they had provided for both herself
and her husband. Dominance was in the works. She could feel
it in her bones.
Lisa drew closer, slowly, closer to Jean. At 5ft 5 in Jean
was two inches taller than Lisa, but because Lisa’s breasts
rode higher on her chest their nipples were just about the
same height. Their breasts were just about the same width
apart, the nipples very close to lining up as a matching
quartet. Jean mimicked the movement and their nipples came
together, first on the west and then on the east. Slowly
they began a jousting match as their pulses quickened and
their bodies responded to the tingling eroticism of the soft
touch of sensitive nipples grazing across sensitive nipples.
Bodies maneuvered gently back and forth, forward and back,
each movement designed to accommodate as much friction and
touch between their gland-tips as possible. When the jolt of
energy caused by Jean’s delicious nipple-touch coursed
through her nervous system, Lisa felt even the big muscles
of her butt and legs quake with a momentary loss of control.
The weakness was fleeting, but it reminded her of the other
side of the equation. As much as this was going to be a
fight for feminine superiority, it was also going to be a
battle of sexual response and control. The faint loss of
muscle strength was only minor, but Lisa recognized it for
what it was; a danger she would have to work to control. The
milliseconds flashed by and Lisa moved so that her nipples
grazed deliciously across Jean’s protruding nipple shafts.
She presumed that the same feelings she had re-discovered
had also whirled through her enemy. She was right of course;
ever so right!
If anything, Jean’s moment of wobbly weakness may have been
even more pronounced. Besides that snapshot in time with
Lisa in the dorm decades earlier, she had never had even a
quasi-lesbian encounter (advantage to Lisa – maybe?). The
shock to her nipples upon contact, the surging jolt of
sizzle that flashed through her body and loins, and the
moments of muscular atrophy (seemingly), were deeper,
longer, and more remindful to Jean that no matter what her
powerful intentions were about putting Lisa in her place,
that the woman in front of her had EXACTLY the same
motivation, and quite probably a skill set of sexuality and
womanly strength to place the outcome in doubt. As that
thought flickered through her frontal cortex, she smiled,
recognizing that she wouldn’t have wanted it any
differently. No prize worth gaining should come easy, she
thought. And that small two or three second interlude in her
muscular control, fashioned so eloquently by the nipple
touch between the fully sexually mature women, was all it
took to remind her of all those things.
To the eyes, the women’s nipples were just about the most
“equal” parts of their scrumptiously mature bodies. The ring
of Lisa’s areola pulled tightly towards the center,
providing the elasticity necessary for her dark pink nipples
to explode forward with excitement. They protruded nearly
half an inch, reaching firmness reminiscent of the rind of a
fresh grapefruit, and similar in color to a delicious pink
fruit. They were enjoying the battle and not at all
intimidated by Jean’s nipple-flesh lances. Jean’s coloration
was just a shade lighter over her entire body. Her areolas,
while not necessarily lighter in tone, were more tan than
pink, except right at the tips where they glowed
ever-so-blushingly with pinkness. Her wider areolas
contracted inward, creating robust nipple shafts that were
half an inch long and almost as wide. The tender center,
where her milk glands reached their ‘spigot’, puckered
inward a sliver, creating a doughnut-shaped ring of
amazingly sensitive skin.
Both hot ladies rejoiced in their initial skin-to-skin
confrontation. The sensitivity of their nipples provided
immense stimulation and pleasure, even amidst the turmoil of
battle. Jean brought her hands up to support her breasts and
guided her nipples towards her enemies challenging tits. As
the gentle gyrations of the first moments waned, the women
ramped up their motions for added stimulation and power.
That necessitated some ‘assistance’ that the hands provided.
Lisa matched Jean and they now used their hands to guide
their nipple attacks. Jean was a dead-aim and so was Lisa.
They poked each others nipples, each trying to force from
the other some sort of acknowledgement of her own
superiority.
The ten spectators, a few with less clothing coverage than
when they arrived, had inched closer to the tit-battling
women, to better view the nipple war. Twelve libidos were
ramped up watching the site. Lisa relished the sensation of
stabbing Jean hard and deep with her taut nipples. She could
see Jean’s areolas give and dimple as her nipples attacked.
Jean’s counter attacks accomplished similar physical
consequences; Lisa’s surrounding tissues conforming inwardly
to accept her enemy’s nipple pokes. But the real fun was
when those nipples went dead-on against each other, left
versus right and right versus left. The pushing and shoving
allowed each woman to feel a hint of the power lined up
across the centimeters between them, even if it was
restricted to just a few square inches of skin. Lisa’s
nipples stood up admirably to Jean’s firm attacks. They
might compress a bit, but Jean’s appeared to compress as
much. Five minutes of poking brought their internal
temperatures up a bit, and the energy levels were demanding
something more forceful as an outlet for their passion. Jean
dropped her hands first and with a quick twist sent a
swinging SMACK as her right tit blasted against Lisa’s
right. Jean planted her feet firmly on the ground and stood
still, staring at Lisa, a daring look that was obvious to
all present. Brent got a great picture of that look with his
camera and he also got a picture of the blurry motion of
Lisa’s speedy counter attack. Of course Lisa knew this was
coming and it felt good, really, really good, to add this
layer of effort onto the sexy, exciting, but rather timid
battle between nipples alone. WHACK! Lisa’s D-cup tits swung
in a graceful arc and blasted across the sides of Jean’s
tits. It was a double whammy. Both of Lisa’s bazooms banged
into Jean’s tits as they brushed by. The smile leapt onto
Lisa’s face as the pride in her attack flowed through her
body and mind.
Now it was clear; the nipple fight was over and the tit-war
had begun. In a flash the snarling catty women embarked on a
stupendous titfight. Hands were kept away from the chesty
arena and their tits went at it like Roman gladiators. Back
and forth they went, the slapping sounds adding to nature’s
sound from the sand, wind, and nearby surf, but so
deliciously welcomed by all of the dozen people absorbed by
the women’s actions. Jean and Lisa, rather quiet through the
nipple fight, were ready to get vocal. They began calling
each other names, grunting with exertion as they twisted
their bodies to accept and give titty-slaps. This added a
new element for the first time; tit-slaps can be painful and
Jean, who knew it would be coming, was still a bit stunned
by the wicked pain Lisa’s tits caused as they smacked
against her own. “Ouch,” escaped her lips more than once,
but she applauded herself whenever Lisa cringed or cried out
in pain as her retaliatory slaps caused her some pain as
well. Back and forth they went at it for five minutes, ten
minutes, twenty minutes, and still they were slugging it out
like Frazier and Ali. The redness that now spread across all
four bulging tits, gave proof that the pain must have been
substantial. Only the two combatants knew how right the
perception of the others really was. Lisa gritted her teeth
and wound up for a vicious blow as Jean countered with an
equally forceful twist that she hoped would finally force
Lisa to submit. But for all the violence of this last
tit-swinging-collision, the main effect was to send both
women staggering apart from the loss of balance. It also
gave them an opportunity, so they needn’t “let on” that they
were both a winded and sore from all the exertion and damage
they’d done to each other, to recuperate a moment. Lisa
caught her balance by putting her hands on her knees and
leaning on them for support, huge gulps of air surging into
her lungs to revive her tiring muscles. Jean, sensing Lisa’s
forbearance of attack, sank to her knees in the sand and
bent over at the waist, sucking in her own big gulps of air.
The women’s chests heaved as they tried to re-charge their
depleted oxygen batteries. Each kept an eye on the other as
they had a moment to reflect on what had happened so far and
to give momentary acknowledgement of the other people glued
to their battle.
During the heat of the nipple and tit-swinging fight,
neither gave even a moment of thought to the beach, the
assembled crowd, Brent, or anything else but their intimate
rivalry. Lisa rejoiced in the exhilaration she felt, despite
the depleted state of her energy. Jean’s mind drifted back
those decades to recall the intensity of feelings she had
felt that day in May long ago, and now realized that, as a
woman in her fifties, those feelings were only child-like
compared with what she felt now. It was exhilaration beyond
comprehension previously; more than she’d ever imagined to
mix the lust, hate, passion, and sensory overload caused by
meeting Lisa, another mature woman, on exactly equal terms.
She knew full well that THIS was the something she’d been
missing in her life, even though she hadn’t known before
that anything was missing. The brain can go into overdrive
sometimes and the thoughts race through like a laser beam at
the speed of light. All those thoughts surged through Jean
as she sucked more air and watched Lisa sink to her knees as
well. The two women were both a little grateful for the
respite, even though neither had planned it that way as they
made their mighty swings a minute before.
For the first time in minutes, even the assembled parties,
took a deep breath, as if to recuperate from their own
exertions. A glance around the cove would have revealed the
heightened arousal felt by all. Every bikini top was gone.
Mara’s long nipples poked into the atmosphere as did
Molly’s, Norma’s, Jade’s, Carrie’s, Alicia’s, and
Felicity’s. All seven had fingered and tweaked their own
nipples as the duel between Lisa and Jean riveted their
attention. Robert and Bill sported rigid tent-poles
sprouting from their crotches, both of significant
proportions, and Robert’s especially dramatic as his trunks
did little to hide his manhood underneath. Of course Brent
had been rigid from the beginning, with only minor
fluctuations in tumescence since the arrival of Lisa at what
he had formerly believed to be an almost private oasis for
himself and Jean. His horny saturation level was as high as
he could remember and it took great effort to have kept up
with the photos he was expected to take. He had probably
taken two or three dozen pictures already and he was now
quite glad he’d asked for that zoom lens for Christmas. He
had managed several tight close-ups so far and was anxious
for even more when the battle resumed.
But Brent wasn’t just lost in his own thoughts. He
recognized the depleted energy of his wife and Lisa and he
offered them a drink. “Wow! Ladies you were great;
especially you Jean,” He gave Jean the higher compliment
without compunction. After all she was his wife. “Would you
two like something to drink?” He had several water bottles
in a cooler and he reached for one as Jean said, “Sure. I’ll
take some water.” He looked toward Lisa who had let Brent’s
comment about Jean being especially great roll off without
comment. Norma offered her a bottle of Gatorade from her own
bag and Lisa gratefully accepted. The steamy weather on top
of the exertion meant that hydration would be an important
requirement for the two women. In hindsight, days later,
they both wondered to themselves if an air-conditioned
apartment might not have been a more prudent venue. But that
didn’t matter now. “Way to go girl,” Norma spoke in low
tones, “you were really taking it to Jean.” Lisa smiled and
took three big swallows and sat down on the blanket to
slowly sip the rest of the bottle and recover her wind.
“Thanks.” She winked at Norma, recollecting the many
late-night cyber titfights they had shared over the internet
during the past couple of years. Norma, athletic and
competitive, was enjoying the thrill of this, her first,
encounter with a real-life titfight. Bill, an occasional
over-the-shoulder spectator to the word battles between his
wife and Lisa was equally turned on and glad to see Lisa
really smacking Jean’s breasts around. But he knew that as
much as the visual comparison of the two ladies tits gave a
distinct surplus to Lisa, he perceived Jean to be a powerful
foe and just as jaw-clenchingly determined as Lisa to
survive and dominate. While all the folks there would have
considered themselves rooting for Lisa, due to their
previous online friendship, this was the first time that any
of them had met her in person. The libido-enhancing thrill
of women cattily battling each other was the real draw, and
Jean, now being just as much a flesh-and-blood real woman as
Lisa had seemed to them formerly, provided a distinctly
uneasy sense of betrayal in some of the women. Without
knowing why, they found themselves almost rooting for Jean
as much as for Lisa. It is doubtful that any of them could
put it into words, but their feelings nonetheless oozed out
into their consciousness. The pep-squad recruited by Lisa
wasn’t as 100% behind her as she would have liked. That
said, only one of the women actually “turned” on Lisa and
became a little bit vocal in rooting for Jean. That was
Molly, for she saw in Jean a fuzzy image of how she hoped
she would look in a few years. Their coloring was similar.
Their thicker frames were similar as well, even though Jean
didn’t have the heft in her bones that Molly did. And for
whatever reason that only our chemical brains can fathom,
she had developed an instant crush on Jean. She would have
LOVED to be the one pressing her body into Jean’s instead of
Lisa.
But all that hidden drama receded into the background once
again as the two women recovered for a few minutes. Jean
finished her bottle of water and took a great deep breath,
exhaling loudly, as if to infer that she was now recovered.
Lisa, the slugs of Gatorade, refreshing her with liquid and
some well-received sugar, purposely exaggerated her own deep
breath, using it as a taunt towards Jean. The group, tension
momentarily relieved, eased into sexy banter among them,
being careful not to be loud and distract the two
combatants, and they got to know each other just a bit, at
least within the narrow focus of the subject matter that
brought them together today.
TO BE CONTINUED