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.