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.