Thirty-Five Years
Brings Déjà vu to Reality
By H.G. Hunt
Chapter 13
“I’m sure enjoying this.” The comment came from Bill, but it
could have been any of them. Others shouted a few generic
words of encouragement. “Come on girls. Give us a show! Take
it to her Lisa. Make her pay Jean.” The encouragement wasn’t
necessary for the ladies to get after each other, but they
were welcomed anyway. Everybody appreciates it when they are
urged on by others. These two were no exception.
“I’m gonna crush your ass,” growled Jean as she alluringly
got on her hands and knees, spreading her knees apart and
giving five of the spectators a terrific rear-view of her
ass. The view was short-lived. In a second Lisa had anchored
herself just behind Jean her ass prancing towards Jean’s
firm round butt. “Not if I crush yours first, slut!” Lisa’s
retort came just as their butts collided. The collision
resounded for a moment over the roar of the waves in the
background. Smack! The staccato sound implied the weight of
the heavy impact and at the same time hinted at the
cushioning behind the projecting asses. Smack! Again their
instinctive aiming mechanisms were on target. They couldn’t
see each other unless they turned their heads around, but it
didn’t matter. They had arranged their legs and feet on the
blankets alternating so that their behinds weren’t exactly
lined up with each other, but with such a formidable amount
of flesh back there to work with they had no trouble at all
wiggling and aligning so as to force pretty consistent and
perfectly-aimed attacks. Smack! Smack! Smack! They went at
it with a rhythm of coordination. Lisa would lean forward
and then shift her weight backwards, the muscles in her
lower body tightening as she relished the nastiness of
trying to violate Jean’s ass with her own beautiful butt.
“Is that the best you’ve got?” Lisa smiled as she felt
Jean’s next retaliatory thump cause her ass to rock with the
impact. “Not by a long shot, cunt!” Jean liked to use filthy
words whenever she taunted Lisa, and Lisa liked hearing
them. It only motivated her more towards her goal of
dominating and humiliating Jean. The wicked taunts flew back
and forth, reinforcing the atmosphere of hostility the women
felt towards each other.
The smacking continued for a while, interspersed with
occasional grunts, growled threats, more taunting comments,
and a few “mmmmmms” as well. Even with the thudding smacks
that crackled in the cove the two battlers hadn’t missed out
on the sexual context as their assholes and crotches began
to recognize and revel in their mutual proximity. Their
similarly endowed behinds dueled back and forth without
quarter for a good fifteen minutes without any apparent
advantage gained by either. The smacks had tightened their
large muscles in their lower bodies and the toll on their
legs was noticeable to the combatants, if not in a scary
way. The spectators thrilled at the continued attacks,
redness showing clearly on both sets of cheeks. Brent was
reminded of the great naval battles of WWII watching their
asses relentlessly bombard each other reminiscent of dueling
battleships sending round after round of heavy shells
against the enemy. Bam, Bam, Bam, the explosions echoed
across the shore without either battleship surrendering.
Slowly the captains of the ships narrowed the gap between
them, inching closer and closer together. Jean thrilled at
the violent clashes that she had shared with Lisa, but ached
to get dirtier and dirtier for a little more intimate
tangling. Her battleship ass slid backwards towards Lisa as
her knees positioned themselves on alternating sides of
Lisa’s feet. Lisa adjusted her footing in the blankets, atop
the sandy soil underneath, and she snarled at Jean “So you
can’t wait to get closer to my sweet ass huh? Well that’s
alright by me. I’ll ass-fuck your ass with mine all
fuckin’day.” With that she twisted her torso and angled her
ass a few degrees clockwise and pushed back, feeling part of
one of Jean’s cheeks slide deliciously between her own. The
warm reddish (thanks to all the smacking) skin pushed
towards Lisa’s little brown hole and nearly got there too,
but Lisa pulled back just in the nick of time so that her
asshole remained “virginal”, at least as far as Jean’s
attack was concerned.
“Quit your damn blabbering bitch! Just prove to me that you
know how to grind your ass. I don’t want to be doing all the
work!” Jean maneuvered one cheek higher than the other as
had Lisa, but in the opposing direction and she slid/pushed
backwards and across, raking her cheeks from side to side
across Lisa’s equally red ass. Their rosy cheeks peeled
apart as the opposing woman’s own cheeks parted the cleft.
Back and forth they went, the two firm humps causing their
bodies to surge forward an inch or so and then fall back as
the cheeks met at their mutual peaks and then delved towards
their opponent’s cleft. The nasty ladies felt very un-lady
like as they shared the tingling sensations surging toward
their brains from the most-hidden areas of their bodies. In
moments the rhythm of the waves that had guided their
earlier tit battle found its way into their butt war. The
communal nature of their precisely aimed gyrations proved to
each that the other was not at all afraid of a little
nastiness, even with a group of spectators leering at their
every move. The physical effort to slide and grind and
wiggle their hefty asses all around was much less than the
naval-type bombardment that had started their backwards
confrontation. In fact they could even catch their breath a
bit now that the focus was on trying to out-nasty each
other. It didn’t take long for the girls to angle their
asses more towards a perpendicular alignment, even when it
meant pulling one knee off the ground and balancing
awkwardly on one knee, one foot, and one hand.
The implications were obvious to the gathered ten. Brent
made sure to step closer and closer with his camera to make
sure he got a good photo of their looming brown-hole dance.
Like laser-guided missiles they took aim. As soon as Brent
stepped close, the rush of the others took only an instant.
Grinning at the effect she knew she and Jean were having on
the others, Lisa encouraged them “Come and get a good look.
Watch my ass fuck her ass good and royal!” Jean immediately
took the bait and the initiative, “Oh yeah! Oh yeah! Get a
really good look.” She pushed back and the two brown
bulls-eyes found each other in a not-so-delicate way. With
their butt cheeks pressed in opposite directions the view
for the spectators disappeared, but the fighters didn’t need
visual cues. They were so finely attuned to each other’s
bodies that it was as though magnets had drawn their
assholes together. And the fucking began; asshole to
asshole, fucking hard and wicked butt humping, and
sweaty-cracked feminine anus fighting. Their narrow and
slippery confined holes scraped across each other, to be
followed by a swirling, pushing, grinding confrontation.
Jean gritted her teeth, knowing that behind her Lisa was
probably doing the same, each anxious to outduel the other
with her nastiness. So far the two swirling assholes met
each other on equal terms. The muscles in Lisa’s legs felt
powerful and capable of twisting and pushing into Jean’s
tight hole, aching to find a way to do the impossible; get
inside her ass and REALLY fuck her ass. She used mental
imagery to conjure up her own ass growing a big dick and
plowing with deadly accuracy into Jean’s tight hole. Even
though it didn’t happen, the imagery was powerful and it
helped Lisa smack, grind, twist, and turn over and over
again, relishing the sensual arousal that came from knowing
SHE was fucking Jean’s ass good and deep.
The power of imagery though can work both ways. Jean took
great strength in her own mental metaphors by imagining that
it was Lisa’s nose she was fucking with her ass. It made her
almost delirious with power thinking about riding Lisa’s
nose with her puckered ass hole. She too could push, glide,
gyrate, and overpower Lisa’s fine little hole for quite some
time using the vivid mental pictures she had drawn to
illuminate her actions.
The heightened sensual awareness they shared allowed both
women to take note of the tiniest sensations in their
bodies, as well as the littlest detail of what was happening
around them. Of course, since they were looking in opposite
directions they didn’t notice all the same things. Jean
noticed her husband finally take his pants off, his rod
springing forth fully engorged. “Couldn’t take it any
longer, huh Brent?” she grinned at him. Of course she knew
the effect this was having on Brent and the others. She
could see Bill and Norma fondling each other. She watched
Felicity fondling herself, as was Jade. Lisa could see
Robert and Mara, Alicia, Carrie and Molly. She noted their
gawking excitement, even as they occasionally spied on each
other to see what their hands were doing to themselves.
But most of all the two fighters seemed to be able to
acknowledge every little folded pucker in their enemies ass
hole, each little hair that wispily guarded her foe’s back
door, even every little freckle seemed to come to life and
shoot its presence across the boundary between the ladies.
Jean ached as she felt Lisa’s ass hole trying to snake its
way insider her little butt. Lisa felt the most intense
disgust surge into her consciousness at precisely the same
time that Jean was imagining her nasal victory. It was
almost as if the others’ thoughts could penetrate the
limiting boundary of their skulls and surge through their
anal membranes to both challenge and intimidate their rival.
But physical reality hadn’t departed. They were real women,
not magicians or wizards. The snakes that Lisa imagined
plundering Jean’s ass were not real. The antagonistic ass
behind Jean was not Lisa’s nose. They were still just two
powerful and motivated women engaging in the dirtiest fight
of their lives; ass-to-beautiful-ass.
As the minutes wore on and the ladies kept at their routine,
the voluptuous Molly couldn’t take it any longer. “When are
you gonna stop playing around and have a REAL sexfight?” It
wasn’t as if she hadn’t enjoyed the spectacle, but it HAD
gone on for about half an hour with no apparent victor, nor
for that matter, even any apparent advantage. That was what
it took for Lisa (and Jean) to snap out of her state of
dreaminess. “All right slut, this is going nowhere fast. You
ready to take a break? Then we can do what we really came
here for.”
Jean, her head cleared of its momentary dreaminess, felt the
same and was ready to face Lisa woman to woman.
They slowly pulled apart, no winner determined, no worse for
wear, except for some redness and additional muscle
tiredness. Both collapsed for a moment, shook off their
momentary doldrums and rested.
TO BE CONTINUED