[Anubisx]

SPONTANEOUS COMBUSTION

CHAPTER 1:
SECRET ENMITY
Tuesday, December 20

Madame Lingerie
New Hall Lane, 10:49

That morning, rain fell smoothly on the city, but the streets boiled with movement. Under their umbrella, people did their Christmas shopping with some stress; just few days left for the holidays, and always something to buy.

Madame, the modest lingerie store of the avenue, was crowded; Melissa Carter, her owner, was attending as fast as she could to the twenty men who had decided that a nice bra or a sexy panties could be the ideal gift for their girls -and, why not to say, to themselves-. Alone in the store, Melissa began to think seriously about contracting somebody to help her in the business; however, an overwhelming hour later, the local was empty, except for a couple of clients.

'I’m learning the hard way!' Melissa was thinking about what she would wait for the following days. However, she could not help but smile at how well the business was going. 'Just took four months and my store has already made their way into the city. Great prices and exquisite service, as my mother taught me.'

Her thought was not lying, but not telling the whole truth: the reputation of Madame was not only for its competitive prices; the breathtaking Melissa’s beauty was worth to consider, especially noting that, even though the store was oriented exclusively to women, much of their customers were men. It was no secret that many men came to Madame to fool around with her in a suggestive environment dominated by the most daring lingerie.

Really, it was difficult to blame them: Melissa's green eyes and fleshy lips invoked to desire, while her smooth and soft skin demanded caresses. Few men were unable to resist throwing one long glance to her firm chest; the women, however, couldn’t avoid envying their round buttocks. 

However, Melissa was more than a pretty face and a perfect body, because she distilled charisma all around. With a beautiful and easy smile, she exhibited with naturalness an attractive femininity that many confused with flirting. Friendly and helpful, nobody, absolutely nobody, could conceive that her heart would be able to accommodate any feeling other than love, friendship and kindness.

However, the warm Melissa hid a secret in that respect; a secret related to Natasha Reilly, the hot Darkness nightclub go-go dancer. Both had met just a day after the Madame’s opening, when the dancer came into the store to buy new lingerie for her shows. Neither that first time, or subsequently, Natasha had said nor done anything that Melissa could be considered aggressive but, however, there was something in her attitude which exasperated her emotions as no one had done before; somehow, it was as if her mere physical presence was sufficient to provoke her, to threaten her.

These feelings were new to her, and completely illogical. Never in all her life, Melissa had sensed something like that; she was the good girl, the faithful friend, the one that everyone appreciates for her intelligence and charisma. But in the presence of Natasha, everything seemed turned upside down.
 
The appearance of the dancer in Madame that rainy morning was no different: as every time she was there, Melissa’s soul vibrated; her body tensed, hypersensitive. At that time, there was only one man in the store, so she tried to focus on him and not on the girl. However, Natasha’s movements attracted her attention and, inevitably, also the man's attention. A little jealous bile soured Melissa's throat, as if the other woman was also waking up her sin of vanity.

Green eyes followed the girl, watching the sway of her hips beneath her jeans, the wobble of her heavy chest under the tank top, until the distracted man also managed to turn away his view of the beautiful go-go dancer to approach Melissa.

"Hi, I'd like to take these stockings."

"Sure," she smiled. No really understand her reaction, she arched her back to push forward her chest. The man flushed and, with little dissimulation, took a quick glance over her tits before lowering her face in shame. Melissa felt good, not knowing where it came from her new attitude.

Shortly after, the man walked out the door; the dancer, however, went to the box.

"Hi, Melissa."

"Hi, Natasha."

Melissa’s heart pounded a mile a minute as the girl left on the counter a couple of bras and some really small panties. As always, the silence, tense and heavy, rounded to the girls, but a look over bras made Melissa to break it.

"36C?"

"Yes, lately they have grown," replied Natasha with that cool and controlled voice that Melissa, without knowing why, felt so offensive.

"Me too," she remarked abruptly, slightly blushing. She didn’t understand such sincerity, but somehow the watchful eyes of the other woman were pushing her. "Luckily, I have a whole store to replenish my lingerie."

She tried to smile, and Natasha returned the feint. At times like that, Melissa felt her feelings -whatever she feels for the dancer-, were mutual.

"I'm glad," Natasha clamored lamely. The beauty’s glances stood at the other for a few seconds, with Melissa rechecking what she had learned with surprise the first day: what they were really similar. Long hair -Melissa's brunette hair against Natasha's blonde hair-, green eyes, generous mouth, smooth skin. No one could mistake their faces despite the similarities, but certainly they had the same virtues.

"It’s something wrong?" Natasha asked, glacial.

"You tell me," Melissa was surprised herself again. She wasn’t that kind of woman; at least, she wasn’t when the dancer wasn’t present. But she had kept her gaze too long over the other girl, and now the dancer reproached him, even when hypocritically she had been doing the same.

"I don’t know... yet," Natasha replied enigmatically. Melissa, feeling on the defensive, ended up looking away to collect lingerie as soon as possible; so, the blonde would leave her business.

Two minutes later, Natasha disappeared through the door; Melissa sighed in relief, but continued tense all morning.

***

Darkness Disco
Deepdale Street, 23:31[/i]

'She feels the same towards me,' I’m sure, thought Natasha in her dressing room. She finished makeup, and tried to focus on her next dance, but since the visit to Madame that morning, she couldn’t think of something other than Melissa. 'It has to feel the same,' she insisted, perhaps to feel better, perhaps to not feel mad. 'She's cold, and watches me as if she judges me.'

Closing her eyes, she began to count to ten to relax, but someone knocked on the door before reaching to six.

“Natasha, sweetheart, it’s your turn.”

Growling, she left the dressing room. As an automaton, she was towards the cage where she would dance that night. With her still scattered thinking, was elevated over the maddened crowd, swaying her beautiful body in front of hundreds of eager and jealous eyes.

Then, at that altar to hot flesh that was the cage, where Natasha felt desired, a black thought crossed her mind.

'Am I jealous of her? she mused, admitting that Melissa wasn’t the only one who analyzed at each other every time they met at the lingerie store. 'Are we both jealous?' she thought, with the striking saleswoman monopolizing her mind. Natasha visualized Melissa’s body, knowing how similar it was to her own figure: same height, same build, same curves. They shared swollen breasts, a narrow waist, stony buttocks, female legs. For the go-go dancer was very complicated to say which breasts were bigger, which hips were wider, which legs were longer.

'We are too similar,' she cursed, thinking that maybe that was the origin of everything. Natasha had always been a lovely, sympathetic girl, unable to have hard feelings with anyone, but somehow she believed that physical closeness between both and the distant Melissa’s attitude had created an incoherence in her character that could hardly be corrected now.

Turning around, the dancer shook her perfect ass to the public; a roar exploded under her, but her mind still was untangling problems. For months, she and Melissa seemed to have been immersed in a kind of subliminal competition about their bodies; certainly the brunette had made more than one comment about her measurements -that same morning, without going any further-, as if she cared the size of her virtues. But she had to admit that on more than one occasion she had dropped some other questions about the lingerie that Melissa used to wear... of course, to investigate what were her measurements.

'I should be more direct,' she said to herself, knowing that she couldn’t do that without creating more problems. If her full of suspicions mind burned with dismay at every slight nod or at every simple glance from Melissa… what would happen if she added more fuel to the fire of doubt bringing up such primary issues? But at the same time, Natasha knew that this same fire was devouring her from within, little by little, without that inaction could turn it off, or even reduce it.

Suppressing these tormented thoughts from her head, Natasha finally focused on dancing. The public passion fueled her newfound ego; for a few minutes, Melissa disappeared from her head.

CHAPTER 2:
THE EXPLOTION
Friday, December 23

Natasha Reilly’s Apartment
Dove Street, 21:24

The dark blue one-piece dress slid down past the shoulders. The fabric, extremely thin for winter, immediately grasped the firm breasts, holding them like a desperate lover. With a pull, Natasha managed to bring the dress on her hips; few more pulls, and the tight fabric stuck to her curves perfectly. But the blonde was still not satisfied: pulling the front of the dress down, she managed to show a little more of her striking neckline.

‘You look amazing,’ she told herself, proudly, looking in the mirror’s reflection. Picking her panties on the bed, she put them between her long toned legs, freshly shaven in the shower. She pulled her panties up to her hips, squeezing them between her hard buttocks before turning and sees the result. ‘Yes, perfect,’ she concluded, noting the roundness of her ass. Like a second skin, the dark blue dress hugged every curve of her body.

“I'm almost ready for the party.” With a smile, Natasha approached her makeup table, thinking how lucky she was to have a Friday’s night off. ‘I bet my fans will miss me,’ she mused with uncharacteristic vanity. ‘Oh, it's all because of that Melissa! Since she showed up here...’

Unable to finish her thoughts, the blonde pursed her full lips and applied a creamy pink lipstick. However, once summoned the image of the brunette, she couldn’t banish Melissa from her head.

***

Klaus Lindermann’s Mansion
In the outskirts, 22:53

Melissa was moving through the party, chatting and joking with the guests, but appearances were deceiving: she wasn’t enjoying. Only the warm discharges of alcohol across her throat seemed to calm her nerves.

It had all begun when she saw the golden Natasha’s mane waving in the middle of the main room. From the very moment in which she had been invited by Klaus to his big Friday’s party, Melissa had some doubts about whether the popular go-go dancer would appear at the party. But one thing was suppose it and quite another to experience it; the blonde had come to the mansion with a stunning dark blue dress, showing a scandalous body above her heels. Melissa was unable to keep from being overwhelmed by envy. All doubts about her relationship with Natasha were solidified immediately in this new and destructive feeling that burned intensely under her belly.

‘Is that the reality?’ she asked herself, unable to hear the man who at that moment was talking to her. ‘What I feel for her... they’re just jealousy?’

Uncomfortable, Melissa excused herself, needing more alcohol in the blood. Slightly dizzy, she moved between faceless faces, formless voices, frightened at the revelation of her feelings. ‘Jealous, for the first time in my life… and precisely from that woman.’ Reaching a punch bowl, she poured herself a drink, with her trembling hand spilling liquid on the table.

Then she noticed her presence. Turning her beautiful face, Melissa faced Natasha’s glance across the room, and the rest of the world just disappeared. The blonde kept her eyes on her, with the same coolness with which she did at ‘Madame’. Melissa rubbed together her teeth, hypnotized into that far facing; seconds later, without looking away, she swallowed her drink in one gulp, and the burn of alcohol accelerated her heart, activating a kind of sixth sense inside her. She sensed something else in the glacial go-go dancer’s gaze: a light flame, almost imperceptible, but growing.

‘She’s jealous,’ she suddenly understood. ‘She’s jealous!’ she howled inside her head, just as the Natasha’s eyes threw a quick glance over her body from top to bottom. ‘She’s jealous of me!’ she cried out as the blonde disappeared from her sight, through the kitchen door.

A surge of pride ran through her, changing the tide of her feelings: abandoning the traumatic pessimism, she felt a new courage feeling about her relationship with Natasha. Again aware of her potential, she felt the weight of all eyes on her. ‘I’m a real beauty,’ she admitted with arrogance. ‘I’m a fantastic woman, in every way, and a cheap disco dancer can’t match that.’

The admiration of men around was mixed with women’s envy, creating an aura of feminine power around her figure. At last, Melissa accepted it: her fears would be defeated only when she will face them.

“Here I go,” she whispered to herself, filling her glass again and heading for the kitchen. Her body swayed with vigor, displaying an implacable and perfect figure below a tight and silky red dress. Her firm buttocks oscillated smugly from one side to another, while her large breasts were shaken above the risky neckline as weapons of mass destruction. She had never felt so feminine, so woman.

***

As she had wished, the kitchen was empty. Resting her perfect ass against the countertop, Natasha took a small sip from her glass, wetting her full dry lips.

“Will she come?” she wondered, visualizing the brunette who had been her obsession, but who now simply overwhelmed her. After almost half an hour at the party, the dancer had barely bear the presence of Melissa, so perfect, so striking. She certainly hadn’t expected to find her here, at the party of her good friend Klaus.

Far from being able to enjoy the company and the drink, Natasha had moved to and fro through the party, ruminating with anger on the unexpected Melissa’s appearance, raging for that tight and short dress, for that toned and curvy body. It had taken many drinks, but she had finally accepted her envy; fortunately, the equally green eyes of the brunette had spoken the same language, comforting her ego.

Then the other girl came through the door, pausing for a moment on the threshold as if she had not imagined that she would be waiting for her. ‘I’m sure she believed she would catch me off guard,’ she rejoiced mentally, knowing that Melissa had fallen into their trap.

“Well, well,” the blonde’s voice sounded mocking; her mouth twisted into a drunken smile. “If she is the fabulous Melissa, the owner of the best lingerie store in town.”

The brunette’s gesture said it all: her heart must have stopped at that moment. However, the sarcasm of her words seemed to push her.

“I see you finally dare to leave the main room,” Melissa let out, walking into the kitchen with resolute steps. “I was afraid you hid all night in the crowd.”

Natasha’s tongue licked slowly, dirtily, her lips; the flavor of the carmine sweetened her mouth with her own sensuality, emboldening her.

“Hiding? From whom, may I ask?” she said, following closely the movements of the brunette. Melissa looked like a spider, a hunter waiting for her moment; a person so different from the cold, quiet woman she knew from the lingerie shop, that Natasha doubted it was the same girl.

“From me,” Melissa spat directly, placing beside her. Synchronized, the two beauties took a sip of punch, staring at each other.

“From you? You’re the one who follows me around the party like an obsessed insane,” the dancer replied. In closeness, she returned to glimpse the similarities between the two beautifully made-up faces; it filled her being with hard attacks of painful excitement.

Suddenly, as if the Natasha’s insult was a spring, the girls seemed to be aware of what they were doing. Their cheeks flushed slightly, their eyes quivered; turning their heads in opposite directions, they were kept side by side, resting on the countertop, at less than one meter from the other. They drank a bit more, trying to calm down, trying to understand why, suddenly, they were acting so differently to their kind, modest natures.

For a few minutes, they thought about it, while some guests were coming in and out of the kitchen. Surprised by the unexpected presence of two beauties of such caliber, none knew what really happened; the women looked toward opposite sides, trying not to draw too much attention.

Finally, they were alone again. Melissa looked at the bottom of her cup, but she still didn’t understand herself; however, at that moment, with the punch swinging in her hand, she realized that it didn’t matter: she was facing the demons that had haunted her for four months, and that was all she wanted.

“Me? Follow you?” The conversation continued like it had been interrupted only a few seconds, not minutes. The brunette turned her face back towards the blonde, to meet the tense rival’s gaze. “On the contrary, you have not ceased to stalking me all night, just like you do when you come to my store. You’re the obsessed insane.”

Melissa’s voice hung in the air, while she waited for the go-go dancer’s answer. The two women kept their green eyes fixed on the other with an intensity that they had never shown before. The alcohol starting to affect them, to liberate them, but certainly there was much more than that.

“If I go to your store, it’s because I need cheap lingerie for my shows. If I look for quality, of course I don’t go wherever you are,” Natasha’s indirect accelerated Melissa’s pulsations; never in her life had she been involved in a conversation like that, but her mind was able to follow the hidden dialogue among words to return every shot.

“No wonder that a woman like you look for cheap lingerie for her cheap show,” she growled. “Every woman must accept what she is, right?”

As if she had activated a spring in her opponent, Melissa saw how Natasha pulled herself away from the countertop to take a dangerous step toward her. Invaded her personal space, the brunette took the challenge with her own step, leaving both beauties face to face in the, for now, lonely kitchen.

“You’re right,” the blonde replied. “I’ve accepted that I’m the woman for whom all men melt at ‘Darkness’, and you’ve accepted that you’re the little girl that sells cheap lingerie at that woman.”

Melissa felt she was beginning to find it hard to keep control of her body, especially now that the slights began to be more direct, now that the spectacular Natasha’s body threatened her in close proximity. However, she managed to control her emotions at the last moment.

“I could have your job when I wanted, and I would do much better than you. Just think about tonight, and how much more attention than you I have gotten.”

Then, smiles appeared on their beautiful faces, but they didn’t shine: the smiles were false, ironic; the kind of smile that would exhibit when a woman stabbed her foe.

“More attention?” For Natasha, the discussion was getting much more energizing all the alcohol she had taken that night. She felt free, nervous, angry and rash, all at once. “Maybe you’ve got some fans with this short dress, but I assure you that no one, here or in your store, would choose you over me.”

“I knew that every time you walked into ‘Madame’, you tried to attract all the attention over you,” Melissa exclaimed, standing proudly in front of the blonde. “It’s true that when you appeared, some guy looked at your direction, but I’m sorry to say that it was because the door bell,” she smiled mockingly. “Once past the newness, all eyes came back to me.”

Natasha shook her mane, unable to believe how much arrogance was in Melissa. ‘And in me,’ she agreed. Shaking her glass, she finished her drink in one gulp; with a stroke, she left it on the countertop with an intentionally dramatic gesture.

“Don’t make me laugh. If I walk into a site and it happens that you’re there, be sure that no one will look at you until I’m gone.”

“You’re a...” The brunette’s anger was cut off by the arrival of a girl to the kitchen. The go-go dancer cursed having lost the opportunity to hear Melissa give up to rage. She had wanted to overcome her in the increasingly tense discussion, driving her crazy, pushing her beyond her limits; but once accomplished, a stupid girl had stolen her moment of glory.

“Hi,” said the newcomer, visibly drunken; perhaps that is why she hadn’t noticed the obvious and enormous tension in the atmosphere of the kitchen. “Where’s the ice?”

Irritated by the interruption, Melissa growled. Abruptly, she finished with the content of her glass, dropping it in the sink before bending over the blonde and bringing her painted full lips against the right ear of her rival.

“Why don’t you and I look for some privacy to finish this discussion?” The whisper was delivered with an aura of controlled fury and feminine anxiety, in such proximity that Melissa could feel the dancer’s blond hair bristled as her breath flowed into her ear.

Without awaiting a reply, the brunette walked away with quick steps over her heels; angry, she couldn’t help giving a little push to the third woman, almost knocking her down.

“Hey, bitch!” she heard her complain; for a moment, she wished that those words had emerged from the beautiful Natasha’s mouth.

Stopping at the entrance to the kitchen to look back, Melissa locked eyes with the dancer, daring her to follow. For a moment, the sight of the blonde —an impressive woman’s specimen—, made that the logical part of her mind wondered what she was doing. However, it was enough to see the body of Natasha, embraced by that incredible dark blue dress, to realize that she must keep pushing until she could solve the biggest problem of her life, once and for all.

The blonde’s eyes flashed with anger when she finally began to move, causing that the brunette’s heart leap under her chest. Taking a deep, nervous breath, Melissa turned away, knowing that her enemy was behind her...

***

Klaus Lindermann’s mansion was large, with three floors and many rooms. But Melissa had problems finding an empty room for both: behind every door, a passionate couple released the heat of passion and spirit. But when the brunette looked in the last bedroom on the top floor, the fate gave her the privacy they needed, far away from the party, far away from prying eyes.

Entering into the room, the first thing she did was light the two lamps on night stands around the bed; she didn’t want to draw too much attention with the main light, so she thought it appropriate to face Natasha under cover of darkness, because of the secret nature of the confrontation. Behind her, the blonde closed the door and then, as if she read Melissa’s mind, opened the curtains to let the full moon adds its own glare to the encounter.

In silence, the two most beautiful girls in the party —and in town— faced in the middle of the room, for the first time openly looking each other up and down. Even with her heels, they were equally high; their dresses were so short and so tight that both could compare their bodies like they never did before, which did nothing but hurt them mutually.

‘Damn that girl,’ thought Natasha, desperately examining the brunette. ‘This damn copycat has a great body... but not like mine.’ On the other hand, Melissa’s thoughts were identical, an explosive mixture of envy and arrogance. Honestly, both felt nervous about the other physical, to the point of feeling inhibited despite having incredibly perfect figures. That feeling of insecurity always came accompanied by a competitive emotion, full of jealousy and hatred, with which they have never before been faced.

Still in silence, blonde and brunette continued to examine each other for several minutes, although time lost its meaning. Their hidden geniuses began to redden their skins with rage at what they saw, at what they felt, and their bodies were shaking more and more. They perceived that the other woman’s gaze abused them, something they wouldn’t allow; of course, they weren’t going to let her enemy come out of that room as the best female.

“I hope that we have come here for more than just look at each other, Melissa,” the blonde finally break the silence, tired of the deadlock, eager for action. In her own voice, she recognized an unknown arrogance, but also nerves.

“Oh, we’re going to do more than just look at each other, Natasha, but also much more than just talk.” Despite her bravery, the words of the brunette were also charged with concern. Undoubtedly, things were becoming too real for both beauties, but it was hard for them to stop when they went downhill without brakes.

“Uh, yeah?” Letting her body to take control, the dancer threw herself against Melissa’s face, almost impaling her nose to nose. Below, the firm breasts rose and fell passionately in their daring cleavages, almost touching each other. “Since you’re so brave, why don’t you tell me exactly what is going to happen when time of words runs out?”

“It’s obvious what is going to happen.” The owner of ‘Madame’ approached her almost imperceptibly, although when the distances were so short, even a couple of inches seem miles. “It’s going to happen what you’ve wanted since the first day.”

“I’m not the only one who wanted this. I’m not the only who was looking for it.” Natasha felt that was beginning to lose control; every word, every gesture from Melissa got under her skin. “Go ahead, tell me what you want… then, we can start.”

“No, you tell me… You can start something now... or you just can take your pathetic ass out this bedroom and run as the coward you are.”

“I’m here, right in front of you. Are you woman enough to do what you have to do?”

The thick lips curled in disdain and, for the first time in their lives, the beauties hated with complete abandon. The other female had awakened in them a woman who didn’t know, but who had always been there, hibernating until the time when they needed them most. Now, a mansion full of people didn’t seem dangerous: in the darkened room, only they two existed.

“I’m gonna kick your ass, bitch,” the brunette savored the b-word, knowing that the former Melissa had just died. The insult that she had never even thought tasted like ecstasy, but also like danger.

“That will never happen, bitch,” the blonde fought back, enjoying the challenge as her rival. Somehow, she understood that these were the terms that both had to be used the day they met; they could have saved months of paranoia.

The enemies took the first step on the road to total war. Without knowing who began, their proud and similarly proportionate breasts touched each other through their cleavages; both gritted their teeth to prevent gasping, but a snort escaped from their hot mouths when both feel the weight of the other girl.

“You’re an arrogant slut, a boastful tramp who doesn’t know what her place.” Spitting such venom, Natasha felt her heart quicken; she wondered if Melissa could feel it through their compressed tits.

“And you’re a cheap hooker who thinks that being a fucking go-go dancer entitle you to wear a queen’s crown.” Angry, the brunette felt the warmth of the blonde’s breasts against hers. They were soft in the first layer, but extremely solid when she tried to push them back.

With adrenaline and excitement pumping hard through their bodies, Melissa and Natasha leaned a little further, looking for more closeness between their angry faces but mostly, though none of them would recognize, looking for a more intense contact between their tits. Fiercely proud of them, they had compared their boobs for months. Brunette’s chest had grown a bit in recent weeks, but thanks to the recent purchase of bras, she knew the blonde probably could have matched her new size. Now, however, it was the moment of truth, where the cups and sizes were secondary to the measures that really mattered: volume, weight and firmness.

The rivalry between boobs soon poisoned the rest of their bodies and their own minds. Their hands balled into fists, ready to hit; the muscles of their beautiful shaved legs tensed with anticipation; eyes narrowed with hatred, mouths snarled and grimaces became hard. The desire to destroy that similar beauty flooded their psyches, pushing them to resolve their differences there and now.

But for some reason, the two managed to stop at the last moment, as if somehow wanted to have the satisfaction of being provocative, not provoked.

“Come on, blonde. Do you want to start?”

“Here and now? Do you game, brunette?”

The insanely hot girls exchanged defiant gazes at close range, while an awkward, tense silence hung around them. Following the sensation of her compressed chest, Natasha took a quick glance down at her cleavage, matched with Melissa’s. Something pulsed in her crotch, but the feeling passed into the background when she saw how the brunette’s fists were shaking. Her biceps and forearms flexed, announcing a contained desire.

‘When this gets violent, they will hear us and separate us... but I don’t care anymore…’

“You’ve wanted this for a long time, do you?” she tried to instigate her, again meeting her eyes. “It must have been painful to see me appear in your store, take all the attention and not being able to do to me what you wanted so much, right?”

“You came looking for it, babe, but I never fell into your provocations because I was dominating the situation.” Melissa’s breathing grew heavier and heavier, and the rhythm of her heart also went wild, but somehow she managed to keep her voice controlled and threatening. “You came with your jealousy, and you were leaving with them multiplied by a thousand. Am I wrong?”

At that moment, the rest of the room eventually disappeared from their senses. Their ears heard only their own heartbeats and the warm blood flowed through veins and arteries, but not a single note of music or a voice outside the discussion.

“Tell me, being obsessed with me, did you ever come to see me perform in ‘Darkness’?” the go-go dancer asked suddenly, with confident air. “Each night, dancing, I felt a lot of envy directed towards my body. It’s possible that one of those jealous prudes was you.”

“I would never waste my time that way.” Although she was telling the truth, more than once she had seriously considered going to the disco. “Also, I wouldn’t steal all the attention on your territory and leave you without a job.”

Then, the bellies touched under the silky fabrics. While they were arguing about their bodies more and more, the bodies most desired to discuss between them. Immediately, their generous thighs joined the party, and the contact between bare skins detonated several nerves scattered around the beautiful female figures. The slow fire that had been simmering in their eyes burst into flames of hatred, and none could avoid bringing their foreheads together to almost complete a full body to body contact.

“I’m better than you,” Natasha grunted, clearly about to lose her temper. “Let your ugly little head understand that; the sooner the better.”

“I’m better than you,” Melissa snorted, with her will to the limit. “I’ve always been, and I always will be.”

“I’m hotter than you,” the blonde sentenced, addressing the main issue. Her lips, just a few millimeters from the antagonist’s mouth, trembled with anger as their fiery breath flowed between the two girls. “You can try to copy me all you want, but you’ll never have my sex appeal.”

“I’m hotter than you,” the brunette insisted, stealing again Natasha’s words. The underlying sexual element was increasingly taking the reins of the meeting, with the mutual animosity now focusing almost exclusively on their twin figures. “You’re a cheap copy that is messing with a body that cannot handle.”

Both pressed their boobs even closer together, feeling that they couldn’t hold the murderous cravings for much longer. The other tits’ firmness was infuriating, but the identical compression was even more. They visualized the first attacks, with they going for the other silky mane; later, they would punch the other sides. Of course, they would shout, so they would have to achieve a dominant position for when people open the door and discover them fighting each other; knowing the importance of this psychological advantage when they were separate, the two knew they would intertwine her long legs for tripping each other, to tear down and mount her rival before the end.

“Come on, bitch,” they challenged one another in unison, looking forward to the match. They felt how the other tits tightened just before their fingers opened, ready for gripping, for punching…

Unfortunately for both beauties, the door snapped, opening suddenly. Melissa and Natasha, acting with an unexpected defensive sense, separated awkwardly, frightened, while two women appeared in the doorway.

“Oh, sorry,” the first girl said. “We didn’t know that this room was already taken.”

“Yeah, it’s hard to find a free one”, the second woman smiled. Less shy that her partner, she looked up and down to the two beauties. “But we can always share… just four of us...”

Wiping a drop of sweat from her forehead, Natasha looked at the lesbian with grudge, hating her to believe that she and Melissa were there to fuck.

“No, the room is all yours,” she spat, walking away abruptly.

“You were not interrupting anything.” Not knowing why she was apologizing, the brunette went after the blonde, slamming the door shut.

In the hallway, Melissa saw Natasha walked away with hurried steps, without looking back. But instead of following her, she stood there, alone, paralyzed, confused by all that had happened. The alcohol suddenly left her body, and her legs trembled, almost knocking her to knees.

‘What the fuck happened? What we were going to do?’ she asked herself, trying in vain to rebuild her emotions. Unable to bear the sudden sickness, Melissa decided to leave the party by the back door.

TO BE CONTINUED...

[sidekick]

Fabulous buildup! Very hot indeed. Please continue.

[sinclairfan]

Good story--but shouldn't the title have "Smoldering" in it instead of "Spontaneous"?

[Anubisx]

Thanks for all the nice comments

Good story--but shouldn't the title have "Smoldering" in it instead of "Spontaneous"?

It will be explain in the next chapters

Tomorrow, more

[Vanessa]

Great start...am breathlessly waiting for part 2

[Anubisx]

Thanks for the comments!!! The next part is here...

CHAPTER 3:
WRONG CHRISTMAS SPIRIT
Saturday, December 24

Melissa Carter’s Apartment
Alston Street, 9:47

The breakfast was tasteless because of the nerves. That morning, Melissa had decided not to open ‘Madame’; on Christmas Eve, she knew it wasn’t a good decision, but her head was put into more personal, more painful issues. Over and over she recalled the events of the previous night, when she acted like a bully for the first time in her life. Her insecurities about Natasha had pushed her too far, destroying her empathic and charismatic personality.

However, in some way, a part of her didn’t want to go back. After months suffering that relationship with the dancer in silence, the events of the party had been a welcome change: as if someone had opened a window in a room with stale air. Spit all the poison that had been accumulating in her mind had been therapeutic, so Melissa knew she wouldn’t contaminate her interior like that again.

Leaving the breakfast, the brunette approached the bathroom with increasingly confident steps. There, she looked in the mirror, watching her body with pride. Before go to sleep, she hadn’t changed clothes, so her amazing red dress still hugged her curves. Her subconscious had taken the decision last night, wanting to keep the smell of all that terrifying but energizing experience: the scent of the sweat, the fragrance of her hair and her perfume mixed with Natasha’s perfume.

Now, however, she had to leave all this behind and prepare herself for what was to come. With parsimony, Melissa dropped the dress from her body, undressing front in of the mirror. The vision of the curvaceous figure pleased her, filling her with confidence. Under the sweaty bra, her boobs stood dense, consistent; below, the thong could barely contain her swollen sex, with dark trimmed hair and thick lips. Melissa felt bigger than ever, as if the awakening of her new and arrogant personality had enlarged their attributes, as if the rivalry with Natasha had pushed her body to prepare for future tests.

Biting her fleshy lower lip, the brunette raised both hands; she pinched her stiff nipples through the bra, remembering the previous night’s clash of breasts. She remembered every sensation, every instinct, every glance; recapitulated each thrust, every adjustment, every grunt. For some weird reason, slight but burning palpitations massaged her pussy, as if the meeting with the go-go dancer had been more than a simple confrontation before violence.

‘I should look for her,’ she said herself, finally taking off her bra. Her nipples, brown and thick, hardened on contact with air. ‘I should look for her and finish what we started.’

Planning her next step, Melissa discovered her sex, throwing aside her thong as she stepped into the shower. The first hot water’s jet barely calmed her, making her gasp under her dark thoughts…

***

Bird Bookstore Cafe
New Hall Lane, 11:58

Natasha thanked the unexpected ray of sun that came through the window beside which she sat that winter morning. Taking a comforting sip of coffee, the blonde looked around: the popular bookstore coffee shop was unusually empty, or so it seemed; it was also true that feeling of loneliness was normal, given the structure of the business, with full of books shelves creating a maze full of private corners, with small tables for two scattered here and there.

‘Here is an oasis of peace, in the middle of the city,’ Natasha thought. She liked the place, so she wondered why she didn’t visit it more often: a place to read and drink coffee at the same time. However, looking through the window, the Madame’s neon sign answered her. ‘Her store is right opposite. It could never be a place of peace…’

In fact, the lingerie business was the real reason for the dancer was there. After a night of violent dreams and sweaty sheets, Natasha had made the decision to go to ‘Madame’... although she didn’t know exactly why. She just knew that she had to face Melissa again, whatever happened after. Thus, find the store closed was disappointing.

‘Have I scared her?’ she wondered for the umpteenth time, ordering a second coffee. The warmth of the drink calmed her dark thoughts; thoughts of violence and destruction, always related to the tense meeting of last night.

Then something altered the atmosphere. Following her feminine instincts, Natasha turned her head toward the entrance. She localized the perturbation, and her green eyes opened wide: fifteen feet away was Melissa. As if she could feel her too, the brunette immediately brought her eyes to her.

‘Fucking awesome!’ the blonde growled mentally, realizing that her opponent was as surprised as she was. However, the moment’s hesitation lasted only a few seconds: their eyes narrowed, assimilating the new opportunity of confrontation that lay before both beauties.

Still standing in the doorway, Melissa could hardly believe her luck. Leaving home, she had wandered through the city’s streets without a defined course, without really knowing how to locate her nemesis. She had crossed a few times ahead of ‘Darkness’, where the dancer worked at night, but it was obviously closed. She had been in the main park of the neighborhood, and in a couple of popular clothing stores. She had moved to and fro, without a clue of the blonde girl, to finish ahead of ‘Madame’.

Then she had cursed her decision: she should have opened the store. The business could have been like honey to the bee queen that Natasha thought she was and, once her rival was attracted to ‘Madame’, she would have closed the store… and everything would have been settled between them.

Embittered by her mistake, Melissa had approached to ‘Bird’ looking for a coffee that calm down her frustration, but the place had been hiding the greatest treasure: Natasha.

‘There she is!’ she almost murmured, fixed her eyes on the other woman. Taking air once, twice, she remembered what she had been looking for, and she moved towards her destiny. Her heart was beating louder and louder as she advanced towards her, closing the distance between their rivals bodies; Natasha stiffened in her chair and, after what seemed an eternity, the brunette sat opposite her.

Facing in the small table, both felt the approaching confrontation in the tense winter air. The inevitable war of words would be all that they could play in that public place; insufficient, but it would have to suffice for now. But none threw herself into it immediately, as if the two stunning beauties could savor the quiet prelude of inquisitive glazes.

Unlike the previous night, neither wore makeup; a proud self-confidence sign. Actually, they didn’t need it because their beauties were genuine, with feline green iris, delicate noses, full pink lips. For them it was hard not to admit how much femininity oozed the other face through her long eyelashes, thin eyebrows and round chins. Their skins were smooth, slightly tanned, youthful despite being halfway between twenties and thirties.

But there was more than just a pretty face to analyze. Looking down slightly, the two were able to see those tits that they both envied, pushed against the fabric of the tight sweaters they wore that morning. The black color of the brunette’s clothing contradicted the blonde’s yellow, in an identical competition to the comparison between their long manes.

“You... again,” Natasha broke the silence with a hoarse growl.

“Yes, me… again,” Melissa replied, raising her chin slightly. “Last night you ran away from the party, so I thought I had to look for you to clarify certain things that we don’t clarify.”

“I could swear I saw you run away from the party, too,” the dancer added. “You must have been very uncomfortable with what happened in the bedroom, but I don’t blame you for that.”

Melissa growled softly, and Natasha responded with her own snort. There was desperation in their voices, as the recognition that the rival had witnessed —in some way— the moment of weakness was felt as a painful stab.

For a moment, both girls struggled with their full of resentment eyes. However, something more emerged gradually from their glazes. Melissa felt that he striking Natasha’s eyes managed to bring out from her a kind of toxic and bitter lust; she had never been attracted to another woman, but this had much less sense when it referring to her enemy. However, the mixture of the scents and the close female staring contest seemed somehow to affect her in that sense. Her only consolation was read in the dancer’s eyes the emergence of a similar fire, jealously appreciative of her beauty; a subtle dilation of pupils that expressed the real emotions of Natasha.

Melissa opened her mouth to speak, to break the awkward moment, when suddenly appeared a waiter. Immersed in their feelings, the two girls startled.

“Excuse me, I didn’t want to scare you. Here’s your coffee,” he said, leaving a cup in front of Natasha. “And for you?”

“The same coffee, please,” Melissa said, without knowing why. The man nodded, leaving them alone again.

“Wow, so you can be a nice girl! It’s shocking,” taking the lead, the dancer decided to tease her. “Are you Melissa’s good twin?”

The mere mention of the "twin" word almost dismantled Melissa, but Natasha also flagellated herself for bringing up the subject unconsciously. The similarities between the two were so obvious in that private moment that the word hung between them for the entire duel.

“The truth is that I’m also shocked, because I didn’t know you were capable of being so civilized in my presence. It’s a nice change,” Melissa narrowed her eyes, while she kept talking with some malice. “But make no mistake, I don’t have any twin. There’s no one like me.”

“Thanks God. I wouldn’t like to have more brunettes in town,” Natasha’s voice dropped, in a snake’s whisper. “And don’t think you’re so special: you’re too ordinary.”

“Oh, blondes! Always so snooty…”

The return of the waiter cut the conversation but not the hostile environment fluctuating between the two females while Melissa coffee was served.

“Sisters?” the man asked innocently, but the offended gestures that petrified both girls’ faces were enough to freeze his smile. Their friendly attempt crashed against a wall of ice, shattering their hopes of connecting with some of the beauties.

“No, we aren’t!” they groaned in unison, in an annoying and unexpected synchronization. Natasha bit her thick lower lip, while Melissa looked for peace in a long sip of coffee. The waiter, embarrassed, muttered something incongruent and walked away quickly.

“I’m sick of the comparisons,” the brunette was sincere, getting lost in the blonde’s green eyes.

“Me too,” accepted her rival, as intense as her.

Wanting to break the anxiety present in the truth of the last words, they compared each other with undisguised audacity. Natasha looked beyond the generalities that matched her with Melissa, looking for the smallest details in search of the overcoming. She measured the sinuous curved lines of her full lips against hers, wanting to know which pair formed a best heart’s silhouette, or which mouth contained more flesh; she studied the other feline eyes in detail, demanding to know which was more feminine, which iris were greener, which eyelashes were longer; she considered if Melissa’s skin was more or less smooth, more or less tanned than hers; she watched her dark hair, determining its length, silkiness and exuberance regarding her own blonde locks.

The answers didn’t please her. Frustrated by not being able to clearly overcome Melissa in any aspect, she resigned herself, knowing that her nemesis neither overcame her in any comparison. Their faces seemed taken from the same mold, with only minor differences determining that they weren’t clones.

Melissa had reached a similar conclusion when her gaze fell over Natasha’s chest for second time in a few minutes. The suggestive mountains under the yellow fabric seemed to exert a powerful gravitational effect on her eyes, but there was more: a hot, morbid feeling that accelerated her heart and hardened her bust. The mere presence of the dancer’s tits confused her, stalking her as if they were the source of all the evils in recent months. But when she noticed the jealous blonde’s gaze on her own breasts, Melissa knew that she wasn’t the only one to understand how important those centers of gravity in their relationship of hate were.

There, silently locked in a dirty exchange of glances over tits and faces, the girls noticed how rabid bile grew in their throats; for both, it was impossible to discern a connection between them different from loathing. Gradually, the insecurity of the first meetings had grown to turn into animosity, but they knew that the climb wouldn’t end there. As females that had recently discovered their hibernated arrogance, Melissa and Natasha knew that they were destined for an ominous and inevitable physical confrontation.

“Why don’t you stop looking at me and tell me what you wanna do?”

The sudden question caught Natasha by surprise, but she was able to react with a full of pride, cold grimace. Taking a sip of coffee, she noticed it wasn’t hot. ‘How long have we been comparing us?’

“You’re so cocky...” she began insulting her, as if she wanted to clarify that point before continuing. “I want the same as you, so don’t play dumb with me. It was YOU who took me to the bedroom at the party, asking for trouble.”

“I didn’t see you complaining about it,” Melissa groaned, leaning slightly forward on the table. “So you must want it even more than me.”

“We both are looking for it, it’s all that matters.” Natasha was tired of games. “We just have to find the right time and the right place to finish this entire fucking thing once and for all.”

The mere mention of the moment of truth arrived —the long awaited fight— made the brunette’s body burning with the animal desire to tear every blonde’s hair off, to hit her pretty face until destroy her. Her voice, when it came, was barely a poorly controlled whisper.

“Tonight,” she spat impatiently. “In my store: it all started there, and there will have to end. All the buildings around are offices or businesses that will be closed after seven,” her whisper became threatening. “So no one can hear you scream…”

“However, you’ll scream so much that I’ll have to shut your mouth by force, or people will come to save you from the other side of town.” Natasha hardly believed her own words but once released the dogs of war, she felt nothing but pride and hatred.

“Fucking whore.”

“Cheap slut.”

Both bodies tensed while a genuine hostility linking their egos. Green eyes shone, full lips pursed and hair bristled; even before Melissa growl the final challenge, both perceived it in the air.

“At nine o’clock, at ‘Madame’. Bring extra clothes, bitch, because you’ll need it when I’m done with you.”

“You too. And bring your best finery, because I’ll bring my best dress. It’s Christmas Eve, cxnt, so let’s celebrate it properly.”

“It will be the best fucking holiday of my life.”

“You’re wrong. It will be your worst nightmare...”

***

Natasha Reilly’s Apartment
Dove Street, 16:44

‘What’s going on?’ Natasha wondered, not for the first time. After a long nap, she had awakened less warlike than before, when she had accepted her fate looking for Melissa. However, the restless sleep seemed to have raised some doubts… doubts that led her to the time before the sudden appearance of the brunette in her life. The friendly and peaceful Natasha of the past battled against her in her own mind, struggling to get out of the oblivion to which seemed banished.

‘How did you come to this?’ she asked her, screaming from the depths of his psyche. ‘You’re gonna fight with a girl you barely know! You’re an adult woman! It’s absurd!’ Natasha shook her head, knowing that her subconscious was telling the truth. Suddenly, resolve their differences —maybe unreal differences— that way it seemed to her stupid, childish.

‘You’re gonna pull each other’s hair out, tear each other’s eyes out, and wreck your pretty faces, your beautiful bodies...’ She kept hearing; now, however, every word of her alter ego sounded distant, as if the blonde of the past was falling in a bottomless pit. Her stomach fluttered and her nerves quivered as her imagination contemplated all scenarios that her unconscious was introducing to her. Without realizing it, the old Natasha was buried under her own words, again evoking the desire to fight in the toned dancer’s body.

“Yeah, I’ll rip every strand of hair off her head!” she cried aloud, suddenly hot. “I’m going to slap her until she screams my name! I’ll scratch her skin, bite her face!”

Hyperventilating, Natasha began to sweat, even in the cool of the apartment. She had to control herself, she had to focus; in less than four hours, she would meet Melissa, and she couldn’t survive such a big stress for so long.

‘A moment ago, you were thinking that all this issue of the fight was nonsense, and now you cannot wait to start,’ she conversed with herself, opening a window for air. ‘You have to close this issue tonight, or it will destroy you...’

***

Melissa Carter’s Apartment
Alston Street, 18:11

Melissa’s bed was a mess of silky fabrics: her best ensembles were lying in any way, and the girl couldn’t decide which dress would be chosen for possibly the biggest night of her life. The hours dragged slowly on the clock, but she felt that the moment of truth would come without her clothes on.

‘If that fucking bitch wants to surpass me before starting, she’ll get a big surprise,’ she thought, now undecided between blue and black dress. Grabbing the second one, she visualized how she looked when she tried on it minutes earlier, for the third time. ‘You wanted this, Natasha.’

Since they had parted that morning, Melissa had not stopped thinking about the latest blonde’s challenge, not even during the disturbed two-hour nap after lunch. The challenge had been obvious from the moment it was spit out by the dancer; thinking about it, the brunette couldn’t prevent her heart beat out to control. Natasha wanted to compare their beauties at their very best, with their figures covered by their finery, their faces made up like never before and their manes perfumed with the most exclusive fragrances. No doubt what was going to happen after comparison wouldn’t be pretty, but dirty and violent, but Melissa believed that if one prevailed in the prelude, she would have a significant psychological advantage before the duel.

“Of course, that woman will be me,” she whispered, finally deciding which would be her battle dress. At lunch, part of her psyche had reprimanded her aggressive attitude, but the moments of doubt had been buried. Without doubts, there was only time —painfully languid time—, and the hope to close the open wound when, months ago, Natasha came for first time in her store… and into her life.

‘At last,’ she said herself, taking a deep breath. ‘At last I’ll resolve all that has been tormenting me...’

To be continued... with the first fight!

[sidekick]

I think you may have something truly special here. I'm excited and eagerly anticipating the fight. You've set it up beautifully.

[Vanessa]

cannot wait for part 3

[sinclairfan]

Still just smoldering....

[Anubisx]

Thanks to all for the comments

Now... the end of Chapter 3!

Madame Lingerie
New Hall Lane, 20:39

In the darkness, the pupils took a while to get used. The blinds were down, so only the colorful flashes from the Christmas tree chaotically threw some light on the two motionless figures faced in the middle of ‘Madame’. Red, blue and green glints shone over short black dresses, brightening the emeralds that beauties had by iris, and the silky skin.

Ten minutes earlier, the two had met at the door, exhibiting an overwhelming impatience. There, without a word, they had been measured each other under the streetlights, raging at the spectacle that was the other body, the other face. At Lindermann’s party they smashed egos and hopes with their ensembles, but now they were just sexual killer. Their current dresses were even tightest, which seemed impossible, and riskiest up and down: young breasts were powerfully exhibited through deep triangular necklines, while their juicy thighs were displayed almost totally due to the very short skirts. Their bellies were featured to the rival for first time through transparencies, in a show of toned abdomen. The heels reinforced their curves, although none humbled herself asking the other that she turn around to compare their firm and womanly butts.

Their dresses were as similar as their own figures, but, curiously, their faces were those that presented more similarities that night… even more than before. The makeup had invigorated their most remarkable features, perfecting which was perfect, and thus bringing them closer to the full equivalence: the eyes glinted under elongated eyelashes and with delicate eyeliners; the lips seemed thicker, more succulent, thanks to expensive and imported red lipsticks; the slightly tanned skins had a shiny, elegant touch; the soft manes fell in a perfect frame for faces, for breasts, as smooth and endless waterfalls.

Uncomfortable, Natasha and Melissa had studied carefully the opponent virtues, but the comparison of beauties only had instigated them towards a greater hatred. Being practical, the two searched for strengths and weaknesses before the fight, analyzing the power of legs, arms and torsos, knowing that soon they would be competing hand to hand… but they also analyzed the other glance, measuring how much willpower the other girl had in her depths.

Now, that was left behind. The loneliness of ‘Madame’ instigated to the outbreak of hostilities, but both needed more than hatred for the other perfect body to take the final step, far away from their primitive personalities. For this reason, they provoking each other... again… something they were already experts…

“You haven’t brought clothes, as I told you,” Melissa growled. Her face was just a pretty silhouette in the play of lights and shadows. “For your job, I assumed you were an exhibitionist, but I didn’t know you liked to go home naked.”

“We’re in a full of lingerie store,” Natasha replied sarcastically. “A nice baby-doll, some matching stockings, and I can go back in time to ‘Darkness’ to give my fans a dance they’ll never forget. Instead, you’ll spend this special night on the floor of your store, naked, crying like a poor little girl.”

The brunette’s eyes rolled upward, in a gesture accompanied by a loud sigh of boredom; her hands fell upon her ample hips, completing an arrogant gesture of femininity.

“Look, baby, you’ll be who finishes crying, and I’ll be who tell your fans how I cleaned the floor of my store with your weak body. Do you understand me, stupid dancer?”

The blonde shook her long hair, spitting a disgusted snort. Imitating the pose of her enemy, she took a courageous step forward; arching her back, she pushed her generous tits towards Melissa.

“Tomorrow, the whole city will know how I beat your pathetic body. I’ll publish it on all networks, and I’ll tell it everyone with which I come across… especially men.”

“You’ve always been a stuck-up woman,” the brunette attacked. “You’re just a cheap slut wiggles her ass as if you were the most amazing hottie in the world. Well, I have a scoop for you: no, you aren’t.”

“Well, I have another scoop for you: you’re garbage.” The hate of Natasha’s voice made all the butterflies fluttering in the Melissa’s stomach. “You always were receiving me with that look of conceited whore, with the coldness of a bitch who thinks she’s the alpha female. But you’re just another cxnt who needs someone to put you in your place.”

“Can you put me in my place?” Melissa moved forward without fear, and Natasha replied walking towards her; soon, the two beauties were circling around each other in the center of the store, just a few feet from the other. “You’ll teach me a lesson I’ll never forget… right?

“I’ll be the one that tears apart your pretty dress.”

“No, if I tear apart yours first...”

Surprisingly, the envy for wearing a similar dress was the reason for the final burst. Long legs’ muscles began to move, tightening to jump against rival; the anxious hands suddenly grabbed hair and cloth, while the women released all the accumulated tension with a double cry of violence, finally engaged in the long-awaited fight.

Reducing the howls to grunts of pain and effort, the couple tugged at the other mane, envying the silky feel even while the filaments were torn. With the nails of the other hand, both quickly tore the other dress, starting with the neckline. The rips echoed in the store while the girls’ tits, covered by beautiful bras, jumped out of shredded dress.

Losing her grip on the black fabric, Natasha sank her now free hand also in the raven hair of her nemesis; with her ten fingers in her hair, she used the new and advantageous leverage to shake the other girl by ‘Madame’. Screaming, Melissa reacted leaving her opponent dress and clutching her golden hair with a double grip. The half-naked bodies collided, and the fight accelerated.

“Whore!” Melissa cried, shaking the other head from one side to another with rudeness. Hot Natasha’s constitution felt firm, toned against hers; her own figure palpitated with ardor, rubbing against rival’s body in a hard struggle for position.

“cxnt!” the go-go dancer answered, pulling the brunette’s head back. Melissa’s tense neck was exposed to her for a few seconds; Natasha was found unconsciously licking her lips at the thought of biting, but the moment passed.

Almost losing the balance on their high heels, both crashed into a bookshelf; groaning under a torrent of sample bras, Melissa released her right hand, closing it into a fist, and struck Natasha’s belly. The dancer moaned with pain but, surprising the brunette, the fist met a hard abdomen that barely yielded to the attack. Before she could react, the blow was returned against her stomach with the enemy’s fist lacerating her equally firm belly. Blonde’s angry face showed her surprise at her strength, as if she hadn’t expected that a single saleswoman was so toned.

“For this serves the gym, bitch!” Melissa shouted, stoking again the rival’s stomach, and being hit a second time. Instinctively, she thrust a heel heavily on the Natasha’s instep, making her scream. “And for this serves the women’s weapons!”

Seizing the weakness moment, she threw a third punch, this time against the beautiful dancer’s face. The blow was perfect, poking the chin from below; Natasha spat and, with a groan, fell back.

At that moment, the blonde knew she was at the mercy of her nemesis; sprawled, without air and with her head groggy after the punch… she couldn’t recover in time. Her killer instincts were still active, but now out of service. She hated Melissa, but more herself for having fallen so quickly, so easily.

But sometimes, the fate plays in favor of the disadvantaged. When Melissa stood over her, a crunch echoed in ‘Madame’; half a second later, her enemy disappeared from her sight. To the surprise of the dancer, the brunette fell on her ass with a grunt of pain. Straightening up a little, Natasha realized that a Melissa’s heel had broken.

‘We have been very stupid to fight in heels,’ she thought, slowly recovering her senses. ‘She has paid it, but I won’t do it,’ she concluded, taking off her heels. Just a couple of meters, the saleswoman imitated her, removing her heels as she watched her angrily: the prey had escaped her…

Sitting on the store floor, the girls took air, recalling the brief but intense first assault of the fight. Now that the blood had been savored, both wanted more, much more. However, one of them lifted her chin with some pride, conscious of having the upper hand in the confrontation.

“This is still much easier than I expected,” Melissa snorted, brushing her hair off her face. “If I had known, I would have kicked your ass much earlier.”

“A lucky blow, that’s all,” Natasha squawked vengefully. “Don’t think we’re done.”

Cautiously, looking at each other, the girls stood up, straightening up proudly at her antagonist. Then they realized what they had achieved: the other dress was half torn apart, hanging in rags from the waist and revealing black lace bras, more appropriate for a night of passion that for a secret fight. Under them, the firm women’s boobs moved to the rhythm of their breathing, already sweaty. Bellies, still covered by the suggestive transparencies, showed the marks of the other punch, almost like a cattle branding iron.

There, in the darkness barely broken by the Christmas tree, in the solitude of the night, in the lair of her enemy, Natasha felt lost in her feelings. Yesterday, at the party, she had been overwhelmed by the stunning Melissa’s red dress, by how it clung to her formidable figure. Today, shortly before, feelings of envy and resentment had gone much further, with the body of the brunette showing her perfection under a black tight dress almost identical to hers. Now, however, the vision of the other beauty in the shadows, with her heavy tits barely covered by an extremely captivating bra, was too much for her.

‘I hate your body to death, bitch,’ she growled inside her head, unable to spit it out loud. Following her woman’s instincts, she ripped what was left of her dress, in a defiant gesture. Her reddened flat stomach was exposed and, a second later, her dark, small and provocative panties abandoned the privacy under the torn fabric.

“Let’s fight like women, whore.”

The threatening whisper almost maddened Melissa, whose breasts rose and fell in rhythm with her more and more accelerated breathing. ‘Like women,’ she mused as she tore her own dress, revealing her own femininity. The heated air confined in ‘Madame’ kissed her toned abdomen, before circling her tiny black lace panties.

“Woman to woman, bitch.”

Both beauties, hating the hot body facing them, walked forward with hungry. Tits shook with every step; eyes were locked before the girls lock their bodies. Melissa raised her hands, ready to return to fight in close combat...

And a powerful slap crossed her face. The blow was vertiginous, like a cobra attack; also masterful, with the palm and fingers of the blonde going through her pretty face from one side to another, disfiguring her cheek for a second, as her long raven hair swayed in the air chaotically. Her mouth grunted, and her whole body shuddered... but the assault had only begun.

A second slap turned red the other cheek, with the back of the Natasha’s hand hitting her. Melissa’s head was suddenly sent to the opposite side with a new grunt of pain. She stepped back, wobbly, when the final blow came: a hard fist pounded her face, tracing an upward diagonally from her left cheek. Screaming, her body was thrown back, crashing violently against a full of stockings shelf. The piece of furniture fell dramatically to the ground, making all ‘Madame’ rumbled; the brunette fell on it, breathless. Deafened, Melissa squirmed uncomfortably on the wood with her back and her head throbbing with pain.

Natasha, meanwhile, was briefly paralyzed; she was scared, but not for the suffering of her rival: does someone have heard such a scandal? Does someone interrupt the fight, now that she was giving a lesson to that smug girl? However, several eternal seconds passed while the echo of the thud was disappearing... and nothing happened.

“This is starting to be fun,” the blonde growled, finally being able to brag about her achievement. See how Melissa stood up between gestures of discomfort, almost crawling out of the downed shelf was incredibly delicious. “I can destroy you, while I destroy your little shop.”

“Slut,” the saleswoman managed to gasp, finally managing escape from the deadly trap of wood. However, still dizzy, she stumbled at the last moment, falling at the feet of her antagonist. Gasping, she rolled onto her back.

“Oh, let me help you.” Leaning, Natasha grabbed her hair with both hands and pulled and dragged the brunette by the store cruelly. With an outraged shriek, Melissa kicked the air, clawed the aggressive blonde’s hands, feeling an intense anguish in her scalp. Above her, the dancer just laughed. “You were right, bitch. This is still much easier than I ex... Ouch!”

Suddenly, and exhibiting an incredible flexibility, the Melissa’s long right leg rose in the air; her foot hit Natasha’s forefront and, with a cry of pain, the blonde fell, with both hands on her face.

Again, there was a no-agreed ceasefire. The two beauties writhed on the floor, both covered in sweat and suffering. Melissa’s scalp was burning, like her back and her face, while Natasha’s forehead throbbed in an intense headache that joined the ardor of her bruised left cheek. Rival bellies still throbbed from early punches, a clear sign that any damage that she would infringe take long to disappear. The idealization of the fight that both had displayed throughout the day didn’t take into consideration the reality of a real brawl, with muscle exhaustion and perpetual presence of pain as ruthless and inevitable variables.

However, the suffering did nothing but spur them: now, the two beauties knew how easy it was hurting her nemesis, so they wouldn’t yield to their warrior instincts just because they lacked air or because their bodies feel mistreated.

“Bitch.” The broken voice came from Melissa as she rose slowly. “I’ll destroy you for this...”

“I’ll destroy you first, whore,” the blonde cried, injured, getting up to face the other girl.

In the darkness, there was no time for more. Both crashed together in the middle of the store, this time without tactical or defense. The hands and arms fought in the air, pulling some hair, clawing wrists and shoulders. The girl’s tits crashed together over and over again, with an aspiration that their enraged owners didn’t understand yet. The legs, meanwhile, intertwined each other, muscle to muscle, in a desperate attempt to knock down the rival.

The moans and groans echoed through ‘Madame’ while both beauties stumbled in a close fight. Outside, in the cold and lonely street on Christmas Eve, stray cats mewed in answer, as only witnesses to the hot encounter, before being chased away by a car whose driver quickly crossed the town looking for a delicious dinner, a lovely family and a night of peace.

In the lingerie shop, however, the Christmas spirit had no power over the young and angry women. In their chaotic fight, they finished tearing down the tree, while both falling to the ground. Their heads were painfully tugged back as they rolled on the ground in an explosion of feline passion.

“Is this what… ugh… you mean by fight… ouch… like a woman?” the brunette growled; her body burned so much that she believed that would break out at any moment.

“A real woman can… ah… fight any way.” The blonde could barely hold her murderer instincts in the dramatic melee. “If you’re afraid to fight… ouch… like cats, I can destroy you… uh… with my fists again.”

“You’ll not have a stroke… ah… of luck like that anymore…”

Finally wrapping another body into their arms, both felt the unexpected strength of the other beauty under their hateful hugs. Like hungry pythons, they squeezing the other constitution with each muscle fiber. Melissa had intuited that a professional go-go dancer as Natasha would be fit, but the energy that oppressed her went far beyond what she expected. Feeling an aversion shock through her body, the brunette tightened to the maximum the tendons in arms and legs, trying to crush the blonde once and for all. Natasha grunted, injured, but immediately the painful groan from Melissa joined the cacophony while the angry females were rolling on the floor.

Despite the frustrating equal, two or three minutes later one of them managed to corner her opponent. The back of the blonde hit the table where, over so many mornings, the two had faced as client and seller; the blow knocked the cash register which cruelly hit the feisty hips before rolling away from the feline girls. Sobbing at the same time, the blonde tried to escape and the brunette to dominate.

“I’ve wanted to humiliate you from the first time I saw you, in this same place.” The sincerity came from Melissa’s lips, now against the left ear of the dancer. “And now I’m gonna do it.”

“You’re not the only one who wanted it, who looked for it,” Natasha replied, bringing her mouth to the left ear of the brunette. “But I’ll be the only one to do it.”

Then, the fight slowed down: the intensity of the duel, the inexperience of women —the first fight of their lives— and the pain that ran through their bodies physically exhausted the two young girls. But the urge to defeat the opponent remained intact… or even higher than before.

The sudden lack of impetus brought all attention to the feelings that the violence of the confrontation was camouflaged: hugged like never before, both felt the suffocating weight of another chest against her own boobs, in a mutual pressure that no one could believe have ignored so far. Immediately, the memory of the conflict in the Hans Lindermann’s party came to their heads, when they had pressed her tits together…

But what was happening there was different in many ways. The breasts were burning, sweaty, inflated by the passion of rivalry; they were crushed each other under the semi-nudity of the light bras. Natasha could feel the warm flesh of Melissa, flexible and hard at the same time, adapting to hers… and instinctively pushed forward. The two groaned as her tits were compressed in a struggle for a nonexistent space.

Without understanding what was happening, Melissa and Natasha narrowed further their hugs, bringing her breasts into greater contact through bras. The blonde shivered, caught between the table and the brunette as she felt her wet breasts competed with rival firm pair. A gasp came from her throat, while something throbbed deep in her crotch; the belly’s butterflies went crazy.

In front of her, Melissa swallowed; even that small gesture wiggled their flattened breasts, sending waves of discomfort —and although she wouldn’t recognize it, of pleasure— through Natasha’s body. The aroma of the brunette, a mixture of sweat, perfume and shampoo, invaded her nostrils, forcing her to bury the nose in the neck, into the hair, of Melissa.

“Bitch,” she whispered against her ear, feeling the fiery breath of the rival accelerated on her own ear.

“Slut,” Melissa insulted her; the full lips almost kissed her earlobe, in an act that seemed closer to the intimacy of two lovers that the epilogue of a fight.

Then the go-go dancer noticed it: something was growing between the dueling tits, in both directions; something was hardened between them. She took only a second to reveal the mystery, and when she did, her brain broke out in contradictory orders. Natasha moaned, impaled by Melissa’s nipples, stringing the opposite breasts with hers... and exploded.

“Bitch!” she repeated, with a cry that echoed through ‘Madame’. Her body tensed, pushing ahead with an unexpected impetus. The brunette fell back, with the blonde sitting on her belly like a feral cat. “Dyke bitch!”

Before she could react, Melissa screamed under a rain of blows and scratches. Long fingers crossed her face over and over, while nails left slight marks on her flushed cheeks. Raising her hands, she struck blindly, throwing her own awkward slaps on the face of Natasha.

However, the burst of the blonde was unstoppable. The brunette soon found herself on the defensive, covering her pretty face with both arms, unable to stop the beating. Her wrists and hands were full of scratches, and a hard punch managed to break through their defenses and impact on her nose.

But the sharp torture of her face was pushed into the background when, just a moment later, her boobs busted with pain. Feeling how ten cruel fingers grabbed her tits, Melissa screamed like never before in her life. Closing the eyes, she cried inconsolably, trembling under her heartless nemesis… and it all ended. The hands were removed from her bruised breasts, and the weight of Natasha disappeared from her womb. Without strength, she curled herself on the floor, gently grabbing her tits in tears, waiting for the final attack of her opponent.

But it never came. Melissa heard Natasha bare steps, walking through her store, and also the sound of the fabric; she knew that, as the blonde promised, she was dressing up with the lingerie from ‘Madame’. However, she also thought that she heard a slight whimper in her, which made no sense.

Finally, the doorbell rang, followed by a door slam that shook the entire business. But Melissa didn’t move for a full hour, unable to face the reality: Natasha, her worst enemy, the most hated woman in the world, had won.

To be continued in Chapter 4...

[sinclairfan]

Meh......more smoke than fire

[Anubisx]

CHAPTER 4:
SWEET CHRISTMAS?
Sunday, December 25

Melissa Carter’s Apartment
Alston Street, 13:02

When Melissa awoke, she moaned in pain; all her naked body was exhausted, hurt… and even had some stiffness. Her head throbbed slightly dizzy after countless hours of sleep.

‘This is how it feels after a fight,’ she mused, rising slowly as she thought about the lies of the movies, where heroes and heroines always endured all kinds of punishment as if nothing. At that moment, she felt every stroke, every bruise, every wound; of course, she didn’t feel like a movie’s heroine.

Reaching the bathroom with unsteady steps, Melissa gripped the sink with both hands, looking at hers reflection in the mirror. Numerous red marks marked her figure, especially her torso, wherever Natasha had grabbed in their ground fight; although she couldn’t see her back, she could also feel the scratches that her rival had left behind her. Her face showed some redness and even a very slight swelling from the beating that the blonde had discharged on her. Her belly still showed traces of blows.

But all that was secondary to the visible traces of fingernails in her incredible tits. As an echo of the past, she could still feel the excruciating pain that Natasha’s hands had been administered her in a totally unexpected act of cruelty.

“Fucking slut,” she mumbled, with a dry mouth. “Fucking cheating slut,” she insisted, despite knowing that in a fight with no rules, everything worth.

‘You’re stupid, Melissa. You should have seen it coming, you should have done it first’, she said, knowing that her almost honorable conception of a struggle had cost her the victory. ‘A fight between women is never decent. The warriors of the films can be worthy knights in shining armor with a flawless nobility, but women are creatures of the night, panthers waiting their chance to pounce on prey and tear it tooth and nail.’

Looking her affected beauty by the marks of the fight, Melissa groaned as she realized that Natasha was the first to understand the true nature of female rivalry. Her treacherous attack had settled a close fight, and now it was the brunette who had to lament a bitter defeat.

“This won’t happen again,” she spoke to her reflection. “We’ll meet again, and this time both of us will liberate our inner animal.”

But as she talked with herself, as she remembered last night’s events, something more than frustration and anger was growing inside her. Something that was beyond, way beyond, of pain and exhaustion. Something about what had happened just before Natasha’s feline outburst... when both had brought her breasts together…

At that moment, recalling the moment, Melissa’s naked nipples hardened... just like last night. Forgetting the fatigue, momentarily overcoming the discomfort of her body, the brunette felt like every heartbeat matched each beat of her crotch. ‘Again?’ she hesitated, knowing that it wasn’t the first time that the sexual thrill appeared at the wrong time. ‘Last night, without going any further,’ she admitted, rubbing a nipple with her fingertips. Her tits quivered, and she couldn’t help but gasp in pleasure.

“I hate you, Natasha,” she clamored loudly, glaring at her reflection in the mirror with hate. Her beautiful legs trembled, while the rest of her body was beginning to boil under a dirty fire. “I hate you with all my heart, Natasha’, she concluded; her fingers desperately seeking the depths of her womanhood...

***

Peter Arsmtrong’s Apartment
Andrew Street, 13:26

When Natasha opened her eyes, took a few seconds to realize where she was. In her arms, Peter, the sexiest bartender of Darkness, slept. Turning her aching head, the blonde observed the bedroom, decorated with large movie posters from the 50s; of course, she wasn’t in her apartment.

Carefully, Natasha got up from the bed; her formidable body, full of bumps and scratches, stood naked, as a last reminder of what had happened. ‘We fucked like rabbits, over and over again, all night... and it has been great.’

With a dry throat, the dancer moved her bare feet to the kitchen looking for water. However, each step made her moan softly, with her muscles completely burned after a night of violence and sex. With the latest mists disappearing from her mind, Natasha opened the fridge while she remembered what had happened after her long-awaited victory over Melissa.

“I needed Peter,” she whispered, before swallowing water with such force that she ended coughing. Last night, incredibly, she wept, and much, after the fight; she wept for joy, but mostly for fear. The sadistic final of the fight had marked her, flooding her with an anxiety that left her barely breathing. She could hardly believe what she had done, as if the old Natasha, sweet and peaceful, yet had any power over her.

With the daylight coming through the kitchen window, the blonde raised her hands before her. He recalled the feelings that traveled her fingers hours earlier, when she had sunk them fiercely on Melissa’s warm, firm, juicy tits. Now she could recognize without hesitation that she hated the seductive breasts of the brunette, but that couldn’t justify her cruel action. ‘No, it wasn’t just envy...’ she knew, bringing her hands to her own boobs. Gently, she pinched her nipples, hardening them even more than they already were. ‘It was because that bitch stabbed me over and over again.’

“Natasha?”

Sleepy Peter’s voice reached her ears: the lover of the night began to stretch, and he already missed her. ‘I have to go home, before he sees the marks and starts to ask uncomfortable questions.’ Last night, darkness and passion had hidden her secret, but at full daylight…

Peter had played her role in the history of Natasha, calming her fears with a long session of intense sex. But now it was time to go home.

She had much to think about...

***

Melissa Carter’s Apartment
Alston Street, 20:25

The lipstick toured the fleshy mouth delicately, sensually, staining Melissa’s virtues with a layer of passion red. That was the last detail: straight in front the mirror, the owner of Madame watched her exquisitely made-up face.

‘Perfect,’ she thought, but she wanted to say: ‘unmarked’. With layers of powders and creams, Melissa had managed to hide Natasha blows; fortunately, the swelling was gone too. Below, her body was covered by a tight blue outfit that didn’t show anything: that was the only way to hide the rest of the marks of the struggle.

Then, the doorbell rang. Moving as fast as his muscles still slightly tired allowed her, the brunette crossed the room, dominated by a small table ready for a romantic dinner with chicken, rice and scented candles, and opened the door to her guest. Nathan Parker, the young man who tried to pick her up at the gym for two weeks, smiled.

“I didn’t expect your call,” he said directly, offering her a bouquet of flowers. “Oh, you’re beautiful tonight...”

At that point, the animal took control of Melissa, decided to skip all the preliminaries: he would be her dinner. With a jerk, she pushed him into the apartment; before Nathan knew what was going, he was on the floor with a wildcat mounting it. Her kisses drowned him, as the girl’s pelvis erotically rubbed against his crotch. Soon she felt Melissa grabbed his chest with both hands, squeezing painfully.

“Take this, Natasha.”

The distorted whisper reached the ears of the man, while the brunette dug her nails into his torso. How had she called him? ‘She said Nathan… I think.’

What followed was a long night of passion, with the young man barely able to keep the fiery pace of the beauty. Always in the dark, they both fucked in the living room, in the bedroom and in the bathroom, until at dawn Nathan left the apartment, limping.

Alone, and finally controlled the fire that had been harassing her all day, Melissa fell into a deep sleep, where she recalled her fight with Natasha over and over again... with a very different ending for dancer’s tits…

]CHAPTER 5:
A NOTORIOUS END OF YEAR
Saturday, December 31

Darkness Disco
Deepdale Street, 22:48

Redemption. The word echoed in Melissa’s head as she crossed the doors of the disco. She entered in the lair of her enemy, in the lioness’ den, to finish what she was unable to finish days earlier.

Many things had happened in the last week. Locked up at home, she had licked her wounds, recovering her physical and mental shape as she visualized the next meeting with Natasha. The “when” found answer right away because the brunette was sure that the Darkness’ go-go dancer wouldn’t miss the most important event of the disco: the New Year party. However, as she walked into the crowded central hall, Melissa began to wonder about the “how.”

The music immediately hit her ears heavily, with the bass made her whole body shake. The smell of hundreds of perfumes and sweat filled her nostrils, and her pupils dilated, taking a few seconds to get used to the flashes of light. Then, she saw her…

Beyond the entire crowd, above all of them, as a painful metaphor, Natasha stood, locked in a cell with silver bars, hung almost 30 feet off the ground. To her left, two more go-go girls danced in separate cages, but the attention of the brunette —and of the entire— was focused exclusively on the blonde bombshell.

Unable to stop her steps, Melissa moved around the room, looking at the highly heated movements of the dancer. Jealous bile drowned her palate, with each Natasha’s curve snaking before her with the confidence of who knows that she is the alpha female of the place.

During one fateful moment, the saleswoman believed it, remembering how it had ended the fight between both. But immediately she became convinced that there was nothing in the body of the blonde who beat their own virtues, so she used the angry rush to charge her adrenaline. The longing to fight suddenly lit her mind up with a crazy idea… that seemed perfect.

***

Few things excited more the blonde who dance before her audience: suspended in the cage, the music always took hold of her, merging with the rhythm of each song as if it were part of her being. But that night the feelings were even more powerful, because it was the first time that Natasha danced in Darkness since her encounter with Melissa. After several days of recovery, the blonde had awakened that morning with a new enthusiasm, a revival of her passion for her work. After spending all week stuck at home, thinking in her nemesis and sickly recalling the fight, Natasha had called her boss to return to the club in the most exciting night of the year. She was the star of the place, and she wasn’t going to miss such an important date.

The energy flowed from the eyes of the starving, from the envious, flooding her body with a rejuvenating sap. Just covered with a golden shorts and a green bra, Natasha swaggered in the cage, with the sweat bursting away from her figure with every move when, suddenly, she felt something changing in the environment. A murmur of approval rose from the audience; the energy that she had stolen fragmented. Before she could react, she saw a fourth cage began to rise, right next to hers, at right.

Her heart doesn’t know whether to stop or accelerate when she recognized who would be the fourth go-go girl of the night. Between the light beams, the long dark hair fluttered in the air when the newcomer, staring at her, dropped her jacket: a howl echoed through the disco, with the amazing body of her archenemy exhibiting to everyone. The audience seemed exalted like a huge wild animal, eager for new blood. The betrayal wounded Natasha, who stopped her dancing to see how the unexpected Melissa finally reached its height.

Separated by a gap of about twelve feet, the rivals fixed their green eyes in the other, proudly erect before the crowd. The beautiful blonde irises analyzed brunette’s body, trembling with barely suppressed anger: the curves of Melissa seemed more impressive than ever, thanks to her short red bra and her jean shorts, as too short as hers. Boots with heels raised both at the same height, equating them above the crowds of fans that, anxious, expecting that the dance began.

When it did, the dance almost collapsed Darkness: the two stunning leggy females began to move with the heavy but sensual rhythm of the music, raising their arms above their heads and shaking their bulging butts like the same dance was a new kind of fight.

Certainly, it was a fight for Natasha. She felt sincerely threatened in her territory by a brunette who seemed able to match her in appearance and ability. For days she had felt superior to Melissa, having beaten in her own shop; however, now the confidence that the brunette transpired filled her agitated brain with doubts. The image of her opponent, defeated and sobbing on the floor of Madame, disappeared to give way to this sexual creature that from her cage competed for the attention of her audience on equal terms.

The unhealthy pride that Natasha had found in herself after meeting Melissa wrapped her entire being at that moment, pushing her to take every ounce of will for this new competition. Grabbing one of the silver bars, the blonde female faced Melissa through the air that separated them, presenting her amazing curvy profile to the public. On the other side, the brunette confronted her in the same way, accepting the game. The dancing intensified, and the eyes of both beauties spoke of resentment, of hatred… but also of sensuality understood as battle force. The graceful figures moved like never before in their lives, with pelvis rubbing against the bars while they shaking their heavy breasts just feet from the nemesis.

Precisely at that moment, blonde tits awoke in Melissa the animal feeling of ripping them with her nails. For days, she had been obsessed with returning the favor to Natasha, destroying her cocky boobs with her bare hands. Now that she saw them jumping under the tiny green bra that her rival had bought at her store just a few weeks earlier, her hunger for revenge grew quickly and ominously.

With the jealous attention of both placed over the other tits, Melissa focused on humiliating Natasha shaking her firm curves in front of her, in an exhibition that the roar of the audience showed that didn’t go unnoticed. Opposite her, the blonde responded by shaking her own bust, making it jump like only an experienced dancer could do. The audience broke out, but amazingly the two amazons were isolated from it, feeling alone at the top of Darkness: there were only two cages, and themselves. The outside world, unreal and distant, had no importance.

Sick of a rookie as Melissa was putting her in trouble, Natasha turned her back, wanting to show her how real women shaking ass. Looking back over her shoulder, the blonde watched the reaction of the saleswoman when she shook her hard buttocks to her. After a hateful look, the other young girl also turned, opening her legs and making vibrate her flashy butts like an expert dancer. Natasha couldn’t help growling, barely consoling herself with the envy that shone in Melissa’s eyes when she looked her over her shoulder.

Under that show, the owner of Darkness was watching the competitive dance between her best girl and the newcomer, knowing that he had a gold mine in his hands. When the stunning brunette had approached him, asking about work as go-go dancer, she had appreciated her suggestive presence. But after years in the business of the night, he knew that a nice looking wouldn’t convert a girl in a good dancer. But the momentum of her, her undeniable desire to get on the free cage here and now to prove herself made him distinguish the passionate fire of the brunette. That caught their attention. Now, with the audience shouting ecstatically around, he knew that he had made the right decision. He had a new go-go dancer…

The truth was that Melissa hadn’t really been interested in the job. Her role before him had been no more than an excuse to face her nemesis in public, in her own territory. However, after more than ten minutes of tense duel with Natasha, the brunette began to think seriously about accepting the job: the chance to humiliate the arrogant blonde every night, over and over again, until forcing her to leave Darkness sounded exciting in her heated head. ‘She has destroyed my store. Now, I will break in pieces her career’, she mentally groaned, wrapping her right leg around a bar in a gesture that mixed obscenity and eroticism. Fully determined to teach Natasha one or two things about sensuality, she moved her hips up and down, rubbing her crotch lasciviously against long silver bar. The heat that pounded on her sex mixed with the cold from the metal, blowing up several shivers down her spine. The feelings awakened for one second the former Melissa, who wondered what the hell she was doing at that disco, practically fucking the cage that raised her above hundreds of thirsty eyes. However, the mere presence of Natasha was enough to return the most pusillanimous brunette to the oblivion in the back of her mind, letting the new, savage Melissa faced her antagonist with all available weapons.

The first ten minutes quickly became fifteen, then twenty. The two beauties danced in perfect synchronization with each other and the music, dancing rapidly with the dizzying rhythms and shook their curves with more elegantly when the song playing was slower. But at all times, regardless of the cadence, their breasts and butts shake with a destructive lust charged with sweat, while their hips seemed almost disengaged from their feline body with every movement.

And then Natasha had enough. With an angry gesture, she said that she wanted to go down. Her body burned by the conflicting emotions that ran through it up and down. She wanted to sink her hands into the proud raven hair of Melissa; she wanted to continue their competitive dance, hand to hand, on the dance floor, surrounded by her public; she wanted to grab Peter and take him to the alley behind Darkness, to fuck him until dawn...

Their cage began to descend, and Melissa cage followed. The head of the blonde wandered, unable to decide what she would do once she reached the ground. ‘Destroys her in front of everyone!’ the cruel voice of the new Natasha said. ‘Humiliates her in the dance floor!’ a second Natasha cried. ‘Sex, sex, sex!’ a third one yelled. ‘The Angry, the Sadistic and the Kinky,’ she baptized them, giving name to the three faces of her rising and complex personality.

Already on the floor, her boss in person opened the cage; her smiling mouth opened, but the words never came.

“I don’t want to be disturbed,” she said with abruptness, pushing him aside to move toward her dressing room, but not before taking a quick look back. As she expected, Melissa followed her like a predator on the prowl. On her way, Natasha had to push some more men that encouraged by the show wanted to try luck with the beautiful blonde.

The blonde reached the corridor that led to the dancer’s dressing rooms.

“Let the brunette go to my dressing room. She’s a friend,” she growled as she passed the muscular guard who was watching the hallway. “I don’t want anyone bothering us,” she insisted. Seconds later, she rudely opened the door of her dressing room, leaving it open to her rival...

To be continued...

[Anubisx]

Sometimes, when two people meet, chemistry arises between them: immediately, pheromones floating in the atmosphere, traded as a first act of courtship. However, this reaction, even usual, isn’t the only possible because in rare cases chemistry reacts in a totally opposed way, favoring an illogical, instant hatred; pheromones don’t mix, but competing, fighting for survival.

Surely if some scientist could be in the last of the dressing rooms of Darkness, just at that moment, just before the change of year, he could study the best example of how pheromones can also be agents of hate, can also be environmental warriors.

It had been three minutes since the door was locked; three minutes since the green eyes of both beauties were locked in an eternal staring contest; three minutes since the presence of the girls challenged the opponent through each of their senses: to see the naked body, to smell the sweat mixed with perfume, to hear the busy breathing, to taste the sweet lipstick, to touch the own hips… Everything, absolutely everything, encouraged the couple. The second fight’s preliminaries incited the girls to a level that the first meeting, just a week before, couldn’t match.

Melissa found it difficult to breathe normally. A few steps away, her greatest enemy stood before her with gold shorts that curiously seemed narrower than before, emphasizing those hips as wide as skilled at dancing. Natasha’s green bra clung to her breasts with a thick layer of sweat, making Melissa believe that her boobs looked heavier, more formidable. The hunger to avenge the last week’s humiliation, injuring blonde’s pair just like her rival had hurt hers, grew inside her like an intense flame, especially seeing how two marks highlighted in Natasha’s bra like two accusing and challenging spears.

‘The slut is hard,’ she thought angry, with her crotch pounding as she became obsessed with the nipples of her nemesis. They pushed to such a length and thickness under the bra fabric that she could see small shadows under them. ‘She’s fucking hard.’

But the accusation seemed hypocritical when the blonde looked down at her chest. A shiver ran down Melissa’s spine, knowing she was being analyzed but, above all, knowing she had been discovered. She didn’t need to look down to feel how hard her own nipples were.

“Didn’t you have enough last time?” Natasha’s words broke the tense silence; spitting like a hoarse croak, exhibiting the agitation that filled the girl. “Didn’t you learn the lesson?”

“Maybe your dirty little trick made you win a battle, but it was only that: a battle of many that exist in a war.” The excuse sounded tense, hot.

Natasha’s heart nearly jumped out of her chest. Of course, she had believed that Melissa’s defeat in Madame was the end of what had been happening between them, but the appearance of the saleswoman in Darkness changed everything, especially after her words.

‘A war,’ she mused, savoring the term with the tongue. ‘A battle… of many…’ Again, the feeling that Peter had extinguished after a long night of sex reborn strongly on her, detonating here and there —on her tits, her thighs, her ass, her sex...— as an inevitable chain reaction. Her eyes quivered as her face reddened under a mask of sweat.

“If you want a war, bitch, you’ll have a war,” she gasped, dropping again her eyes on Melissa’s firm breasts, on these two striking nipples jostling under her beautiful and wet red bra. “A long, hard war.”

The brunette pushed her tits forward, as if she would capture her indirect, and she replied swollen her boobs. Moving their eyes up and down, they didn’t stop to study the other flushed face, the other powerful bust. Natasha recalled the ardor that Melissa’s glands had spread to her hands when she’s had cruelly lacerated them. Again, she felt in her fingers her thick consistency, the mix of hardness and flexibility of youthfulness. Unconsciously, she licked her thick lips, anticipating the fight.

“You looked for this war, bitch, and I’ll give it to you... to its final consequences.” Melissa felt the truth in her own words as she exhaled them: though she was sure she would achieve the vengeance that she needed, she was also sure that nothing would end today.

Really, the relationship with the other woman went far beyond hatred, beyond a simple rivalry; it wasn’t something which could solve with a couple of fights. The opponent was alienation, disruption, misery... She was directly the Nemesis, with capital and dark letters. She represented the hard awakening, the metamorphosis of sweet girls to wild and malevolent tigresses.

But the two beauties weren’t only the Pandora’s Box of the other young girl: they were something much deeper and complex. Before them, they could see that face, that body so similar; they could feel the antagonist of her odysseys was the perverse reflection of themselves: a sorceress with long hair like snakes, petrifying gaze, sharp-tongued; a Medusa, but with angel face and devil body.

Lost in their thoughts, the girls began unconsciously to move around each other. What personified the rival continued wandering around their heads, crowded with vines hard to break. As they moved, their tits slightly quivered over their torsos, returning to draw the attention of both, bringing back the thorniest issue at the head of their thoughts.

‘What she tries shaking them?’ they thought at the same time, like rolling tits was being intentional. Even now both denied the reactions of their bodies for being irrational as well as pure feminine pride. In the presence of the sweaty rival, their pupils dilated, their boobs harden... and their crotches palpitated. Even now, a week later, they still blamed the sexual drive that had dominated them after the first duel to the carnal drought in recent months, but no one could explain why the desire woke up again there and now...

“Have you come here to watch or to fight?”

The smug voice of Natasha was all that Melissa needed. With a grunt, the brunette rammed and the blonde ran to meet her. The two beauties clashed in the center of the dressing room but, unlike the previous Saturday, none attacked the other hair. For several minutes their fingers itched to fasten them, squeezing them... and so they did. The four hands sank immediately in the other tits, compressing the malleable, hot flesh with hateful passion. The twin screams filled the room, fortunately drowned by the music of the disco, while the couple stumbled back and forth, bumping violently into walls and against Natasha’s makeup table. Unable to prevent tears, they filled her eyes and cheeks, while girls ended up falling to the ground.

“Whore!” the blonde whimpered when she finally could speak. Rolling on the floor with her rival, she amassed Melissa’s round orbs angrily, digging nails through her red bra.

“Slut!” the brunette gasped, closing her eyes in pain. Beneath her claws, Natasha’s covered tits felt burning, throbbing by torture.

Locking legs with Natasha, Melissa desperately tried to mount her, catch her on the ground to get a better leverage on her boobs. But the go-go dancer struggled against her in the same way, looking for climb over her body. Neither did it, but they lost no time in destroying the other breasts in the process.

However, despite all the violence, all the tears and cries, the brunette was unable to abstract from gauge what was holding in her hands: a consistent curves, larger than expected, that spread from her fingers a powerful and jealous feeling through her body. Natasha’s skin felt soft and warm, especially wherever the bra didn’t cover the flesh, but in the depths of her bust had nothing but a tenacious mass, impossible to break, at least for now.

Finally, the two beauties stopped rolling; pausing on their sides, both faced each other in the middle of the dressing room, clutching her tits with rage and strength, trapped between the other legs with no place to escape. With great effort, Natasha managed to open her eyes, meeting Melissa’s green tearful eyes locked on her. Watching every grimace, every moan of her nemesis, the blonde studied her face to find what was causing more damage to her. Moving her fingers up and down over the formidable saleswoman’s boobs, Natasha pressed every inch of flesh, until the grunts of Melissa cried out how sensitive the lower parts of her breasts were. Her hands moved quickly, exploiting the weak point; however, the sobbing brunette found the same weakness in her own tits, so vengeful fingers immediately began to squeeze her own tits underneath.

In some way, locking gazes reduced the violence of the duel, slowing it down but not appeasing it. The two beauties mistreated rival’s tits with envy, wanting to defeat their density, but also looking for long desired answers. Natasha couldn’t help but extend her fingers to the maximum, trying to embrace the entirety of the Melissa’s orbs to measure and compare them with hers; the brunette seemed to look for the same as she squeezed her pair. Twisting under the other assault, the dancer clenched teeth, vainly trying not to moan as the cruel grip of her opponent deepened further and further on her overstimulated and sore breast flesh.

“Mine are bigger.”

Melissa’s words quickened the pulse of the blonde, and the tremors through her body. For the first time, one of them spoke clearly about what they thought about her boobs, and Natasha didn’t lose a second to get into the longed game.

“In your dreams,” she reproached, kneading and being kneaded. “Mine are much bigger than yours. That’s for sure.”

The conceited claim of the blonde led Melissa to dig further on her tits, twisting them between her fingers like it was the best way to show her that she was wrong. For a moment, in her head danced memories of each bra that Natasha had bought at Madame; she recalled how she had obsessively watched her sizes and cups, always comparing them with hers in which had truly been the first test of the nascent rivalry.

“36C? Bullshit!” she growled, suddenly recalling the rainy Tuesday two weeks ago. That day her antagonist had bragged about the new size of her tits, right on her store, right on her face; now, under her hands, she could almost feel enviously that Natasha’s boobs could be even bigger. “You just wanted to make me jealous, but that didn’t work!”

“You’re jealous! Just look how you squeeze me!” Natasha replied with a few serious twists on Melissa’s tits. “And you’re the one who lied about her size, I remember it well!”

“It was you who triturated me first, so you’re the only jealous here! And the only liar too!”

Carried away by hatred, the girls lacerated other tits, crying incessantly, for a full minute. That was when Melissa was aware of how Natasha’s long nipples poked disturbingly into her palms, through the green bra. Determined to take the initiative, she released even further the wild animal from within and without hesitation she pressed those insulting spears between her thumbs and forefingers. The dancer’s howl echoed through the walls of the dressing room like celestial music to Melissa’s ears.

“Dirty slut!” The sobbing grunt of the other woman was accompanied by her own attack: her fingers pinched brunette’s nipples with spiteful sadism, forcing her to scream.

“Fucking bitch!” she cried as she stretched other nipples towards the side.

Redoubling their efforts, females tortured each other without anyone could hear the cries, with no one would even suspect what was happening in the loneliness of the dressing room between the two nicest and sweets women in town. The eyes of both girls opened and closed in tears, emanating a hatred that was dark and jealous, deep and eternal. The fingers were starting to feel heavy, sore after so many minutes working on the dense and unbreakable tit flesh.

And then, after several minutes of torture, with tits and nipples throbbing in agony, Melissa knew that none of them would give up. Both were so proud of their busts that they would never accept defeat, regardless of the ability of the other fingers, regardless how much they suffer. It was time to raise the stakes to a level that Natasha could not reach.

‘She surprised me on Madame with her dirty attack. It’s time to give it back,’ she thought evilly, but not sure what to do exactly. But when she left to focus on other chest, the heat floating around both shorts caught her attention. Her groin was throbbing with excitement… nonsense because the torment she felt in her body. In front hers, the sight of her nemesis suffering under her fingers turned out to be a kind of forbidden fruit; the ambrosia that was wetting her sex with small explosions.

Then, uncontrolled, she freed her right hand and, before her enemy could react, she sank her fingers into the narrow space between her thighs, looking for answers. The golden tight fabric that was covering dancer’s crotch gave immediately the welcome to Melissa’s long fingers inside.

“Ouch, fuck, fuck!” Natasha mewed, throwing back her head as the brunette grabbed her pubic hair. Without waiting, Melissa pulled them, making her gasp; surprised at the unexpected assault, the blonde ended up falling on her back, with the saleswoman over her.

Feeling the cruel rival’s hands abandoned her tits, and urged by the blonde’s distress, Melissa went further, lasciviously guided by the moisture that she felt in the other sex. She clawed dancer’s labia and under the desolate howl of Natasha, she had her answer: she wasn’t the only excited at the dressing room.

However, it wasn’t all that Melissa got: feeling the blonde’s pussy between her fingers, a kind of vertigo took hold of her. Dizzy, she pulled her hand out of the golden shorts before rolling away from her opponent. Shivering uncontrollably, she stood up, watching Natasha’s body was curled up on the floor, crying as openly as she had cried after losing the first fight. Without knowing why, she also joined the crying, feeling mentally and emotionally broken.

Stumbling over her convulsed legs, Melissa didn’t look back as she left the dressing room. Victorious, but disturbed, the brunette abandoned Darkness just when the bells announced a new year.

To be continued...

[Anubisx]

CHAPTER 6:
DISTURBED HANGOVER
Sunday, January 1

Natasha Reilly’s Apartment
Dove Street, 7:22

The storm that thundered inside Natasha’s head wouldn’t let her to sleep. Too much had happened that night; too much that she thought she would never get to sleep again: the erotic and competitive dance with Melissa still disconcerted her, while the dirty fight distressed her extremely. The taste of defeat seethed between her full lips, with a bitter aftertaste impossible to ignore. Below, her tits pulsing, swollen and hot, marked with full of bitterness traces of nails. She could barely touch them because when she did it, they exploded into a myriad of painful and pleasurable sensations.... Just rubbing her hard nipples with her fingertips caused various and disturbingly delicious discharges through her body. It was pleasure, not pain, which prevented her to massage her afflicted breasts.

‘All this shit is because of that prostitute,’ she thought, over and over, as she squirmed on bed. Since she had met Melissa, nothing in her mind, in her body, seemed fine. Her thinking was becoming murkier and darker, illogical and changing; against an external threat, her character was molded after being destroyed, rebuilt as if evolution had decided that this way she would be prepared for survival. As for her body, it reacted to the presence of her nemesis like if the brunette was some kind of allergen agent, capable of affecting every inch of it in a physical revolution: her skin bristled, her bust widened, hers stomach trembling... and her pussy trembled.

“That slut!” she growled, pushing aside the sheets. A sudden wave of heat flooded her as she remembered how the fight had ended. “That dirty slut!” Her hand slowly down through her belly until graze her panties. “Fuck…” she muttered, noticing it was wet; under the fabric, a fire wanted to be off. “Fuck...”

This time, Peter wasn’t there for her: the man would still be working in the final hours of the Darkness’ eternal night. She didn’t want to return to the disco, with the memory of humiliation too recent. Certainly, her boss shouldn’t have been taken too well that her best go-go dancer disappear that way in the time when he most needed her. Perhaps she had lost her job: another notch in the gun of that bitch named Melissa.

However, none of that mattered right now. The animal took control of her body and, after hours of torment, Natasha finally ceded to the dark desire. Her fingers sank under her soaked and hot panties. The blonde moaned with pleasure, remembering how her opponent had their fingers in that same spot hours earlier. Then and now, she had been wet... and Melissa had discovered it... She had discovered her secret… the secret that Natasha could not answer yet…

“I hate you, Melissa,” she gasped, exhaling her most sincere words while she sank her fingers into the inferno of doubt and pleasure. She howled, femininely flailing on the bed. “I hate you with all my heart, Melissa...”

***

Madame Lingerie
New Hall Lane, 8:18

The store was completely closed, with blinds drawn and door locked. However, there was someone: female gasps echoed through the air, coming damped from inside Madame’s small bathroom. Every groan was sharper, more irregularly; the sounds finished in a cacophony of grunts, filled with orgasmic pleasure but also with hate whistling.

At last, a curvy figure emerged from the bathroom, sweaty and exhausted. Unable to sleep more than an hour at home, Melissa had returned to Madame for the first time since her first physical confrontation with Natasha. The shattered store seemed a perfect metaphor for what she felt inside her head: chaos, a place torn by violence and rivalry, by the struggle between two antagonistic entities unable to do anything other than oppose. In reality, it was about her and Natasha; in her mind, it was about the new Melissa and the former Melissa. The battle of the real world was in these moments in a difficult point to define because brunette’s revenge had just opened a new path that she wasn’t sure how to follow. But the war between her two psyches had finally concluded; although the former Melissa still managed to return a blow, she could never return... at least until the whole thing was resolved with Natasha, something that it wouldn’t happen in a long time.

As she stood up with some effort the shelf that she had shot down after being hit by the blonde, Melissa blushed remembering what just happened in the bathroom... what had happened the three times she had entered it since she returned to Madame. For some reason, her body had become into an eternal fire, into an uncontrolled conflagration, into a 5’7’’ erogenous zone. This sensation had already martyred after the first fight with Natasha, but the intensity of the moment was infinitely greater. Three times he had surrendered to pleasure in the store’s bathroom, with an eagerness that she had never felt before.

Collecting lingerie, Melissa noticed every throb through her body, in an escalation that she knew that it would end with another trip to the bathroom. Her breasts felt heavy, plump; her nipples, tightly long and hard. Between her legs, her panties were so wet that she knew that she would have to change it once or twice before leaving Madame.

‘This time, Nathan can’t calm this,’ she knew, even without finding logic. For some reason, her body only asked her two contradictory things: on the one hand, search for Natasha to laugh at her defeat and, if the blonde wished, to break the tie between them… or, on the other hand, forget her, ignore her forever. However, she didn’t believe that any election could solve her overstimulation problem. Rather, the opposite: if she faced the blonde again, she believed that her whole being melt in fiery warrior gluttony; but if she didn’t, the perpetual ecstasy could never disappear.

‘Are you afraid?’ she asked herself, recalling the end of the fight, only hours before. ‘She had at your mercy, and you just ran away,’ she reproached herself with last night’s vertigo returning to her head. Her dirty sex attack was definitive for the dancer but also for her. Feel the most private region of her nemesis had devastated her mind, with the moisture that flooded the other crotch reminding her own moisture. Knowing that both were excited in the middle of all that cruel violence had frightened her because the rivalry turned into something much deeper, more intimate, than she had been suspected. ‘Actually, our business was never a common enmity,’ she understood, remembering every glance, every word and every gesture between them. ‘From the beginning, there was something different, something that perhaps none of us fully understand’.

She would have to deal with this, so she made a decision: inaction wasn’t an option. If she did nothing, she would go crazy because of the current burning situation. The animal desire wouldn’t be mitigated until be fed with dancer flesh. It was a headlong rush that the brunette had to go, like it or not. But now that she had tasted victory, she wanted more… much more.

CHAPTER 7:
WANTED: ALIVE
Thursday, January 4

Darkness Disco
Deepdale Street, 12:01

“She no longer works here.” the guy’s words darkened the beautiful young face. “They told me that she disappeared during New Year’s celebration. Apparently, the owner was so angry that he hasn’t even tried to locate her.”

“Oh,” Melissa winced, savoring frustration. “The truth is that she’s a good friend of mine, but I lost her phone number... Can anyone give it to me?”

“I only bring the drinks every morning,” he replied, noting the boxes piled at the entrance. “But you can try your luck tonight, when the boss comes. Although he may take offense that you mention Natasha...”

“Well, recently my friend often has that effect on people,” she released, a reference to her own feelings.

“Perhaps it would be best to ask her companions. They sure can help you. It’s even possible that such a famous brunette is already working here. She was a friend of Natasha.”

Suddenly Melissa’s cheeks glowed, radiating at the sudden evolution of the conversation.

“Ah, really? A famous brunette?”

“Apparently, during New Year’s party came a friend of hers, a stunning brunette. She and Natasha did an awesome dance show. The boss has been searching her desperately, wanting to hire her for the disco. Especially now that her best go-go dancer is gone…”

“Aha... interesting,” she smiled. Under her chest, a proudly burning pounded intensely, especially seeing the boy throwing a quick glance over her body from top to bottom. ‘That’s it, bitch. Nobody misses you.’

“If you want, I could...”

“Thank you.”

Cutting off the guy, Melissa left him with a quick wave of her hand. Of course, she felt the lascivious gaze locked on her ass, but that only increased the arrogance that flooded her at that time.

‘Where are you hiding, bitch?’ she asked herself, walking down the street. After days at home, leaving her battered tits to heal, today she had finally decided to go hunting. Each step made her breasts bounce slightly; minor shock of pain did her know that she wasn’t hundred percent recovered, but she couldn’t stand any longer confinement. ‘If I haven’t scared her forever, she’ll seek revenge. Will she have the courage to appear in Madame?’

Without further delay, she directed her steps to her store, hoping that fate would smile to her.

***

Madame Lingerie
New Hall Lane, 12:13

Closed. In front of her beautiful eyes, the little sign showing the more painful word. Her only possible connection with Melissa was her store; if the brunette didn’t open Madame, the real possibilities of locating her were reduced to almost zero.

“Shit,” Natasha whispered, biting her juicy lower lip. Looking to one side, she saw an office; looking at the other, a small medical office. ‘Maybe someone knows her. Maybe they don’t have her phone number, but at least I can find out her last name…’

“Well, again…” The sudden complaint woke the blonde; beside her, a tall guy watched with some despair Madame’s door. “She has me worried... Oh, hello!” Suddenly aware of her, the young man turned to Natasha. “I suppose you also expect that it was open.”

“That’s right.”

“Do you also know Melissa?”

“Yes, she’s a good friend of mine.”

“And mine.”

“Oh, so maybe you can help me. I called her on the phone for days, but she doesn’t answer me. Do you have the same problem?”

The female instinct of Natasha exploded in that instant, crying from the rooftops that here was her chance. The unnamed guy looked fallen from heaven…

“The truth is that you not gonna believe this, but I lost all my phone numbers. So I came here to look for Melissa.” Being aware of the man’s attention, the blonde didn’t hesitate to add with a certain coquetry: “Would it be too much to ask you to help a clueless idiot like me giving me the number of my dear friend?”

“I don’t think you’re idiot. You seem a charming woman.” Smiling stupidly, the young man took his phone. “By the way, my name is Nathan.”

“I’m Natasha. How do you know Melissa?”

“We go to the same gym, but she no longer appears there…”

While the blonde took note of the Melissa’s number, she was aware of a glaringly obvious fact given the desperate physical language of the man: there had been something between him and Melissa. Her new personality immediately devised a plan, a small mischievous idea that would serve as bait for the brunette. ‘If she is arrogant enough to deny me my chance for revenge, this will make her change her mind.’

“Very friendly, Nathan,” smiling, she pushed her chest out, getting all the attention of the guy. At that time, she cursed nail traces that still mark her tits. ‘If instead of this blouse I had used cleavage, he didn’t even remember the name of this cheap whore’. “Hey, why don’t we take a picture of us with my phone? I could send it to Melissa. Surely she’ll be so surprised that she’ll call us soon.”

“Sure,” said Nathan, totally haunted.

A minute later, the two moved away from Madame with separate paths: the man, watching the swinging of her over his shoulder; the woman, obsessively checking the number of Melissa in the screen of her phone.

‘At last…’

***

Madame Lingerie
New Hall Lane, 12:27

Her store, her beloved store, stood silent, surrounded by the noise of the city. As a metaphor for all that had changed in her, Madame looked different: darker, more like a full of dangerous creatures den that the modest lingerie store that it was. Despite having lost an entire morning to fix it, she hadn’t yet been able to open it to the public.

Then, her phone vibrated, pulling her out of the reverie. Shaking her head, Melissa returned to reality, but immediately her stomach trembled when she observed the WhatsApp message she had just received: a photo of Nathan smiling in front of his shop... with Natasha. The number was unknown, but the avatar of the blonde clarified everything.

“Slut,” she muttered, incredibly annoying... without knowing why. She wasn’t sure exactly what annoyed her: To see Nathan happy with her nemesis? Or to rediscover the beauty that Natasha exhibited both in photography and in her little avatar? Of course, the guy meant nothing to her; she hadn’t been more than a pleasant and momentary response to a problem without solution. But there was something about the combination of the stupid grin from him and the exuded sensuality about her that made Melissa nervous.

With her heart beating uncontrollably, Melissa expanded the photography, watching the body of the other woman part by part. Returning to the start of their rivalry, she again felt the intriguing sensation that she had felt every time the blonde had visited Madame: the striking resemblance between the two was still painfully obvious, with Natasha’s eyes also green, with her equally fleshy mouth, with her equally silky skin. Moving the image with quick movements of her fingers, the brunette observed the antagonistic curves, unable to separate it from her own figure.

Then she noticed one thing: like her, Natasha hid her cleavage. A slight shock of pride ran through her body, knowing that her claws had left their marks on the blonde’s heavy tits. But her own boobs throbbed at the memory of her own wounds.

‘I've got her number, that’s all that matters’, she finally managed to focus, smiling with a certain perversity. Now, she just had to play her cards, to rile Natasha and, finally, to wait until the dancer fell into their hands like a ripe fruit.

“Let’s begin...”

***

Bird Bookstore Cafe
New Hall Lane, 13:04

The coffee began to cool, but Natasha hadn’t drunk anything. Seated at the most hidden table in the cafe —like she wanted to hide her dark thoughts—, the blonde looked at the screen of her mobile obsessively. She saw her archenemy connected, but there was no response to her photo. Every second was felt like a beating of wings in her stomach; every minute, like a squeeze on her exalted heart.

“Why the fuck she doesn’t write anything?” she muttered to herself, shaking the phone as if she feared not having coverage. At that moment, she regretted not sending her a direct challenge; however, do it now, after so many minutes, wasn’t a possibility: she didn’t want to seem anxious... just what she was being. ‘C’mon, c’mon, c’mon!’

In the solitude of the table, Natasha noticed how her body began to burn. The familiar feeling spread up and down, burning skin, flesh and blood vessels. Hunger that dominated her every time she thought about Melissa took control, and the uncertainty over the inaction of the brunette forced her to gasp. Several drops of sweat appeared on her forehead, while the mobile screen still didn’t show any movement.

“I’m gonna call her,” she yielded, trembling with the desire to sink her hands into the flesh of her antagonist. She visualized herself tugging hair, squeezing tits... and seeking revenge against the other sex.

But then something appeared in WhatsApp. Her body stiffened and her eyes had to blink a few times to believe what she saw. ‘What the...?’

Finally, Melissa answered her... and she did it with another image. However, the photograph of her opponent was far, far beyond hers. In front of Natasha’s greenish gaze, the two Melissa’s tits, covered by a black bra, were exhibited with pride, even though the marks of nails that the blonde had imprinted on them. Her irises moved quickly across the image, trembling at the courage of the brunette, mechanically programmed to analyze and record; although she was tired of meeting Melissa’s bust, she knew she would never stop comparing it with hers.

“Is this your game, bitch?” she said to the mobile, visibly angry. “Do you first ignore me, and now... this?” Her chest swelled, shivering over a pounding heart. “Two can play this game...”

In a flash, Natasha stood. Leaving the cold coffee, she walked with hurried steps to the bathroom...

***

Madame Lingerie
New Hall Lane, 13:13

An eternity later —barely a few minutes in reality—, the blonde’s answer came to Melissa’s phone. Locked in her store, the brunette had waited sitting in the dark the next move in the indecent chess game that she had begun —after a malicious delay— with her torrid outburst. The reply, of course, was what she had expected.

“Nice marks, you whore,” she growled, opening her green eyes to the photograph received: Natasha’s tits, partly covered by a silky white bra, looked so round, so juicy that Melissa couldn’t help feeling a jealous aftertaste on her palate. Even the pleasure of seeing the traces that her nails had been left on the boobs could compensate that feeling. Suddenly, the game no longer seemed so funny.

“Wait till I come to get my hands on yours,” she spat, just before noticing a disturbing detail. “Oh, horny slut...”

Expanding the image, she observed with some obsession how Natasha’s nipples were pushing through the bra, barely hidden under the white fabric. Noticing how her own hardness increased, she looked down: before her beauty eyes, her nipples answered to the image by dilating.

“You asked for it...” she said, without even knowing why; the whole issue of the nemesis’ thick nipples seemed —for her twisted mind— a challenge that she must answer. Looking at the nearest shelf, she knew immediately what would be her next move...

***

Bird Bookstore Cafe
New Hall Lane, 13:25

Even before the waiter was away, Natasha had already devoured the lemon cake with quick bites. A terrible appetite had seized her, especially after Melissa respond to the fire with her own fire. She still couldn’t believe what she had done in the bathroom, but she knew she wasn’t the one that had started this issue.

‘Yes, I sent the first picture,’ she argued with herself. ‘But that bitch is the one who sent me a photo of her fucking tits.’

Uncomfortable on the chair, with her throat suddenly dry, Natasha drank some cold coffee, waiting impatiently for the move of her opponent. Looking obsessively the mobile, her fingers stalked the icon called over and over, hoping to leave behind the chat to move to a direct conversation. However, somehow she felt that this would be a kind of defeat, so she sighed and put the phone on the table like if it was poisonous.

Then it vibrated. Picking it up quickly, Natasha reopened WhatsApp. ‘You’re starting to make me sick, slut!’ she wanted to scream but instead she growled, biting her lower lip. Melissa had sent another snapshot of her tits, but this time covered by a white bra, similar to hers. The blonde took just half a second to realize the intentions of the brunette; although her breasts were as spectacular as in the previous picture, something had changed: highlighting against white, Melissa’s meaty and long nipples seemed pushed out the bra, pushed out the mobile screen, into a direct provocation.

“Hard bitch... If you were here...” she muttered, suddenly sweaty. ‘If she were here…what?’ she asked herself. Looking at her own bust, she saw the swelling under her blouse. ‘What would you do, Natasha?’ she reiterated herself, but even the new blonde could answer that... yet.

“Let her suffer. Take your time to respond, as she did before,” she said, trying to overcome her doubts, trying to discern the next step. “No, better not: she might think you’re scared. Don’t let her think that her tits are better than yours. Don’t do it.”

Sweat ran down her forehead, while an aura of silence surrounded her; she thought she could hear a nearby clock with an impatient ticking, waiting for her decision.

“Oh, I hate you so much...” she spat. Natasha stood for a second time, back to the bathroom.

***

Madame Lingerie
New Hall Lane, 13:38

Melissa’s lips and eyes were as wide that it seemed a competition about which ones could be more open. The hand holding the phone shaking so badly that it was a miracle that the mobile wasn’t falling. Her whole being burned; physically and mentally, the brunette felt that she melted, merging into a puddle of sweat.

And all for the last message from Natasha: the image was devastating, but the words that accompanied it —the first written in the hot phone duel— were even more devastating.

“You’re a cheap whore,” the brunette growled to the mobile, standing up and walking nervous around the store. “You’re a fucking disgusting whore.”

Madame’s darkness emphasized even more the bright phone screen. Her eyes recorded hopelessly the photography of the blonde’s panties: white, small, silky, covering a plump, proud vulva which was pushed forcefully against the fabric. Below the photo, the words of Natasha finished off this unexpected attack:

<Nat: Did you miss it?>

Melissa wanted to scream. There was no doubt what her enemy meant, because she hadn’t stopped thinking about it.

“Yeah, you tramp, I grabbed your pussy. Get over it!” She growled to the message, even though obviously she hadn’t got over it. Having the crotch of her nemesis on screen shook her memories, making them even more vivid than before; her fingers again felt the tangle of hair, the warmth of lips, the moisture waiting inside... A shiver ran through her body, hardening and wetting here and there in a lusty discharge of adrenaline.

“Ok, whore, you asked for it.”

To be continued...

[sinclairfan]

Smoldering, not Spontaneous