(A story by HALHOW)

Joan came in one evening after I'd gotten home. "Marylyn's friend is over here from the States and dropped in this afternoon," she said.

"Oh yes". I said.

"Yes! And I'd like to call on your good services as a referee again, apparently Marylyn told her about me, and after a couple of days rest she said she'd be rarin' for a bout!"

"Oh yes?" I said again.

"Yes! And I've accepted for Friday evening. OK with you?"

"Sure," I said, "but are you feeling up to it?"

Joan and I have a close relationship, both being divorced and living next door to each other. I knew her physical capabilities and although her 16-inch flexed biceps still make me boggle, I wondered if she was still in hard training.

"Of course I am Norm," she said, "I don't let you into all the secrets of my training...just be ready for Friday that's all!!"

"Who is this girl?" I went on.

"She's no girl," answered Joan, "she's 32, about two years older than I am. She comes from Portland, Oregon, and her name is Helen. Oh! and, er, she's black, and beautiful and claims she whipped Marylyn recently, would you believe?"

Friday evening arrived. I was next door. The gym mat was down, the furniture moved, I'd also subdued the lighting to remove any glare.

Helen arrived about eight. A real black stunner.

We had refreshments in another room, and although the conversation flowed easily the smiles between Helen and Joan were tight, and they studiously avoided each others' eyes whenever possible. We got around to details.

"To a finish," said Joan.

"Nude," added Helen.

"Right on," said Joan, "now about the holds...."

"Come on, Joan, honey," interrupted Helen, "we're mature women not little girls." "I don't mind you using anything I've got if you can for leverage, because I'm sure as hell going to use any part of you I need to!"

"OK! Agreed," I said quickly. "No holds barred...wrestling..."

"Without swimsuits!"

"To a finish!"

"Do you want to be oiled?" I asked.

They both did just a little.

A few minutes before nine I had both contestants in their dressing gowns ready on the mat in the lounge.

Helen was flexing her biceps, and as a matter of interest I took a tape measure and measured her upper arm - "16 inches", I said, "same as Joan's."

"How about this," Helen said crouching slightly, she moved the gown from her right thigh...I placed the tape measure around the black pillar of muscle. "28 inches," I said.

At this Joan came over, and bared her upper leg flexing it, I passed the tape around, "28 inches," I said.

Joan looked over at her black opponent, who stared back.

"What's your bust and weight, 'Black Power'?"

"Thirty-nine inches and 145 LBS." said Helen.

"Looks like we start even then, because I'm 10 1/2 stone," Joan retorted.

I took their dressing gowns and they squared off in the center of the mat - two perfect feline specimens, one black, the other white, both powerful, preparing to match muscles and bodies until one succumbed to the other.

Joan was in first, from the front she forced Helen's arm up behind her in a hammerlock. Helen winced but brought her knee up between Joan's legs.

It never landed, Joan gripped the black thigh between hers and increased the pressure on the hammerlock. Helen gasped, then put her right arm behind her, grasped her own wrist, and with a quick effort broke the hold.

She turned into Joan and with a hip throw sent her tumbling. They got to their feet quickly and grappled again, close to the wall.

Helen spaded her hand and slid it between them...Joan yelped!

Helen's back muscles knotted...she lifted Joan up the wall by her crotch...her strong right hand buried in the thick black hair. Helen held Joan, a left arm bar across her throat, in this painful grip for many seconds. Joan's head rolled.

As a last resort she grabbed Helen's head and held it between her breasts, eventually, not being able to breathe, Helen had to relinquish her grip and back away, heaving for air as Joan slumped by the wall massaging her abused crotch.

They circled, warily this time, showing more respect for each other's capabilities than when they started. When they closed it was to drop to the mat to try strength holds to wear each other down.

Sometimes Joan's suntanned but comparatively white body disappeared writhing under the black powerhouse, other times Helen strained for freedom under Joan's muscular torso!

The slight acrid odor of sweat lingered in the air, it was now dripping off them, but showed up more on Helen's wide black shoulders as she turned the white Amazon over.

"Come on you muscle-bound white whore, where's your answer to this one?" Helen hissed.

Joan found the answer, which was her strong right hand plunged deep in the dripping pubic hair between Helen's thighs and by good leverage throwing her black foe to the mat, retaining the grip, she panted, "There's your answer black bitch!"

Helen rolled away from that one, leaped to her feet crouching low, Joan crouched just two yards from her.

Helen, muscular black body gleaming with perspiration, beckoned, "Come on Joanie honey...black muscles against white...I'm all black woman and you're all white woman...come on baby, bring those white nut crackers I've heard so much about over here and match them against my black ones...Let's really decide who's the best woman...or maybe you're afraid I'll bust your gut?"

Needing no second invitation, Joan smashed into Helen...they braced, legs apart, grunting like men...sometimes squealing like women, breast to breast...their massively hairy bellies glued together, they commenced to thrust mightily into each others loins...matching stroke for stroke.

In...Out...In...Out...Each woman gripped her foe's clenching buttocks as if to prevent her from escaping this war of attrition.

In...Out...In...Out...On...and On it went, until from sheer exhaustion, no doubt brought on by more than one ejaculation each, they sank to their knees in a double bear hug.

Helen forced Joan to the mat, attempted a grapevine...but Joan gripped thighs with her black opponent. Soon they were shaking and sobbing for breath.

Tighter...tighter...closer...closer...as they once again forced themselves into each other...the huge muscles on their entwined power packs etched in black and white ridges against their skin, eyeball to eyeball they grappled in vicious combat as only woman rivals can. Deep in between their legs both used that most powerful of all female weapons against each other in a way they would never dream of doing on a man... in a bone crushing effort to drain and destroy the woman in front of her!

The breath was hissing between their teeth as the white girl rolled onto Helen...the black Amazon arched her back, but to no avail...Then she forced her head and shoulders up as if to topple Joan.

Joan then quite deliberately sought out Helen's mouth with her own...their teeth must have grated as Joan bent Helen's head back...still she did not remove her mouth from Helen's. Their breath must have been rushing in and out of each other's lungs as the muscular white and black amazons lay there locked in a death grip...long minutes passed...strong experienced fingers brought each other off savagely more than once...finally the black hands ceased seeking a nerve hold on the deltoids and slid from the white fighter's armpits, slowly to the mat...the black thighs and calves relaxed their grip on the white ones...Joan sat astride her rival...I'd never seen her so exhausted...her mouth looked sore...Helen's appeared a little chewed too.

Helen's black body shinning with sweat, her hard shapely breasts with their large purple nipples, that had provided so much leverage for Joan, rose and fell as she panted. Joan, sitting up in triumph looked over at me.

I shook my head...I could not count out the black fighter...I marveled at the fantastic body, now bathed in sweat...that powerful rib cage under those pink nippled heaving globes...she knew what I wanted to see...she turned Helen over onto her face...slipped her arms under the other woman's armpits...her fingers clutched the hard black breasts...using them as leverage she strained backwards in a backbreaker, biceps bulging...minutes passed with no submission from the groaning Helen.

Joan let her flop forward on her knees, forehead resting on the mat, she crouched atop her like some big white cat on a black one, and in frustration slid her hands down, trying something I'd never seen her do...a double claw hold!!!

She gripped under her opponents lower torso, clawed fingers probing...seeking to force themselves through the very abdomen wall and grasp the entrails hidden there...after a lengthy and titanic effort Joan was rewarded for some half-an-hour of unforgettable wrestling against a superb opponent.

I heard it...low, and almost unintelligible..."SUBMIT!! (groan).

"I SUBMIT JOAN!!!...YOU'RE TOP CAT...GOOD FIGHT HON." As Joan relaxed, Helen added in a breathless whisper, as if to herself, "This time...I believe."