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Catfighting / Re: At the Hospital

Last post by Ulli - Today at 06:39:22 AM

Quote from: Kiva on June 12, 2026, 03:15:38 PMThe title got my attention as hospitals are a backdrop to some of my stories.

I worked at a hospital near a U.S. federal prison and took care of a lot of inmates. They typically were shackled to the bed by one ankle. One or two armed guards were always present. Visitors were either banned or restricted.

In contrast to your plot, where a fake nurse tries to help the prisoner escape, a worse security threat might be an actual employee acting as an accomplice.

https://www.timesleader.com/news/491022/police-nurse-assistant-helped-inmate-escape-with-hidden-key

Nice to see a kick-ass nurse heroine.

thank you i'm a nurse to and a bjj Fighter. That',s the reason why i wrote this Story

Catfighting / Re: At the Hospital

Last post by Ulli - Today at 06:36:31 AM

Quote from: Violet Rae on June 12, 2026, 05:34:01 PMnow this is unique with superb action, too

Thank you i Always try to write Stories with a little different setting

Boxing and fistfight / The bar fight

Last post by Janine_G - Today at 05:37:34 AM

Misty Lennox had graduated regional high in 2008, and had been known for having the greatest tits ever to graduate regional high. She was divorced and her 18 year old daughter was now living across town with a boyfriend. Misty spent too many nights in the Salty Scupper, the local dive bar. Most of those nights ended with Misty going home with Ty Brooker, a 25 year old deck hand on one of the long line vessels, famous for a cock like a horse.

Audra Thomas had graduated regional high 2014 and now at the age of 30, was in an open, broken marriage and spent many nights about town, not infrequently with Ty Brooker. Audra had been known as the best tits in regional high, and many there who had been there during the time both women attended thought the comparison between the two women was akin to comparing Lebron and Jordan.

On this night, Audra was at one end of the bar, trolling for anything she could find to fuck and Misty was at the other, hoping Ty would walk in. Audra and Misty didn't like each other much, but really didn't cross paths too much. Tonight, both were buzzed, not wearing enough clothes, and getting attention from too many patrons.

Audra, blonde and thick, was wearing a tube top and jeans that might as well have been painted on. She had on knee high black boots and was wearing too much make up.

Misty, brunette and busty, was wearing a tank top and jeans and cowboy boots. Her makeup was no lighter than Audra's.

When Ty walked in and saw both women, he wasn't sure what to do, idiot that he was at his modest age, so he simply sat at the bar, halfway between both women.

As was destined to happen, both women started to hit on Ty, trying to get his attention. After a while, the young man panicked and bolted, and the two women sat glaring at each other.

They were sexually frustrated, buzzed and in a relatively uncrowded bar with saw dust on the floor, saw no reason not to blame one another for their unfortunately quiet night.

Their issues led to them starting to have words with one another, and things escalated until they got off their barstools and now stood in the middle of the bar, face to face.

Sexfighting and Titfighting / Re: A Medieval Tale - Cinderel...

Last post by literaturelover - Today at 05:25:02 AM

Chapter 3 - " Lusty Revenge"

Twenty-four hours ago, the hierarchy of the household had been violently inverted when Cinderella had defeated Lady Tremaine and become the mistress of the house. The house staff loved Cinderella and were pleasantly surprised and happy for Cinderella. Tremaine was seething at the sexual humiliation of their encounter--the gasping, the sweat, the absolute surrender of Tremaine's authority to the girl she had spent years breaking. Lady Tremaine had not lost a catfight it was. She had been bested in a contest of raw, carnal dominance.

The house staff had all gone to bed. Tremaine paused outside the heavy oak doors of the master suite, her breath hitching. She was dressed in a gown of deep, bruised purple, the corset laced so tight it pushed her heavy breasts upward, straining against the fabric. Her 34DDs felt like pressurized weights, humming with a vengeful energy. She didn't want a conversation. She didn't want an apology. She wanted the tactile sensation of victory. She pushed the door open. It didn't creak; she had oiled the hinges herself earlier that afternoon. The room was bathed in the amber glow of a dying fire. Cinderella lay sprawled across the expansive mattress, a pale, moonlit landscape of skin and tangled sheets. She was nude, her stunning hot body draped in a way that suggested a deep, exhausted slumber. The soft rise and fall of her magnificent 34DD tits acted as a catalyst. Tremaine didn't glide. She pounced with a sudden, predatory burst of movement. Tremaine launched herself onto the mattress. The bedsprings groaned under the sudden impact as she landed squarely atop Cinderella, her weight pinning the girl into the plush duvet.

Cinderella gasped, her eyes snapping open and wide with a mixture of terror and instant arousal and murmured Lady Tremaine?!"

Tremaine hissed, her face inches from the girl's. "The lesson of yesterday was that you could win. The lesson of tonight is that winning is temporary."

Without waiting for a response, Tremaine shifted her weight, sliding down. She didn't go for the kiss. She went for the kill. Her hand dived beneath the remnants of the sheet, her fingers finding the heat of Cinderella's core with a practiced, aggressive precision. Tremaine began rubbing her pussy with a fierce, rhythmic intensity, her palm grinding into the sensitive flesh, demanding a reaction.

"Stop! What are you--" Cinderella's voice broke into a moan as the friction ignited.

"I am reclaiming my house," Tremaine growled, her voice dropping an octave. "And every inch of this bed."

The fight shifted instantly. Cinderella, fueled by the adrenaline of the surprise, bucked her hips upward. She wasn't a passive victim. She was a competitor. She grabbed Tremaine's shoulders, attempting to heave the older woman off her. They began to jostle, a chaotic scramble of limbs and skin. The bed became a battlefield of friction. They rolled, a tangle of pale and olive skin, fighting for the dominant position.

Cinderella managed to flip them for a brief second, pinning Tremaine's wrists, her breath coming in ragged heaves. "You think you can just barge in here?"

"I own the air you breathe in this room!" Tremaine roared.

With a sudden, powerful surge of her thighs, she threw Cinderella back down, slamming her into the pillows and vaulting herself upward.

As Tremaine pinned Cinderella's arms above her head, she arched her back, bringing her chest down with crushing force. The impact was visceral. Tremaine thrust her big, juicy 34DD tits directly into Cinderella's equally lush 34DD melons. The sensation was overwhelming. The slide of gorgeous skin and the feeling of being smothered by tit flesh and lust.

"Look at us," Tremaine panted, her chest heaving against the girl's. "Two hot, busty women of this house, fighting with our very sex and with our hot, busty bodies. Do you feel it, Cinderella? The way your body betrays you even as you fight me?"

Cinderella groaned, her head thrashing against the pillow, her body arching involuntarily into the crushing embrace of Tremaine's breasts. "I hate you. I hate how much I want this."

"Good," Tremaine smirked, her hand returning to the heat between Cinderella's legs, fingers curling deep. "Fighting with our sexes and our bodies out of hate and lust mixed together is what we both need."

The friction of the moment reached a fever pitch, the air thick with the scent of musk and desperation. Just as Tremaine thought she had Cinderella broken, Cinderella's eyes flared with a sudden, sharp clarity. With a guttural scream of effort, Cinderella didn't just push, she exploded upward, her core muscles snapping tight. With a sudden, violent surge of strength, she shoved Tremaine's body aside, sending the older woman sprawling across the silk sheets. Cinderella leapt out of the bed in one fluid motion, her naked skin glowing in the firelight. She stood tall, legs braced, hands planted firmly on her hips, her chest heaving. The power dynamic had shifted in a heartbeat.

"Wait," Cinderella breathed, her voice trembling not with fear, but with a cold, simmering authority. "Do you really want to win this way? This is no win. This is cowardly."

Tremaine lay on her back for a moment, her chest still heaving, the 34DDs of her breasts swaying with her erratic breathing. She looked up at the girl, seeing a confidence there that hadn't existed a year ago.

Cinderella continued, "If you wanted a sexfight again, you could have just asked me.I would have accepted. I find it thrilling when I sexually dominate you."

Tremaine paused. A hot flush of shame crept up her neck, coloring her cheeks. She had let her anger and her humiliation cloud her judgment. She had tried to steal a victory through a sneak attack.

Tremaine hissed, her eyes narrowing as she sat up, her breasts straining against the air. "Fine. I challenge you officially to a sexfight. You set the rules. I want to beat you with your own set rules."

Cinderella smirked, a cruel, beautiful expression. "In your dreams is the only way you will beat me, bitch."

Cinderella leaned over, her voice dropping into a commanding tone as she laid out the terms. "First, a titfight round. We compare. We grind. We pleasure each other with our breasts until one of us pleads for a stop because the pleasure is too much to bear. Then, the decisive round: a best-of-three, pussy-to-pussy tribbing. The woman who orgasms first loses the round. Three minutes of rest between rounds. And the loser agrees to pleasure the winner for hours, roleplaying as whatever the victor desires."

Tremaine's pulse hammered in her throat. The stakes were absolute. "Agreed," she spat.

They didn't waste another second. They converged in the center of the bed, stripped of all pretense.

Round One. The Titfight.

They faced each other on their knees, their massive chests nearly touching. The visual was staggering--two sets of 34DDs, heavy and pale, humming with tension. They collided with a wet, heavy thud.

"You think yours are more powerful?" Tremaine sneered, lunging forward. She didn't use her hands; she used her chest. She slammed her breasts into Cinderella's, grinding them in a circular, crushing motion. The sensation was electric--the friction of nipple against nipple, the sheer mass of their breasts flattening against one another.

Cinderella gasped, her back arching. She fought back, twisting her torso to grind her breasts upward and inward, trying to smother Tremaine's sensations with her own. They were like two tectonic plates of flesh, sliding and smashing, the skin becoming slick with sweat.

"Look at you," Cinderella groaned, her voice thick. "You're shaking. Your tits are trembling against mine."

Cinderella surged forward, pinning Tremaine's chest with her own and vibrating her torso, creating a relentless, rhythmic friction that sent sparks of pleasure screaming through Tremaine's nervous system. Tremaine's breath became a series of jagged sobs. The sheer tactile overload of the DD tit-grinding was too much. The sensitivity was peaking.

"Stop... oh god, stop!" Tremaine shrieked, her head tossing back as a wave of pure, chest-driven euphoria crashed over her.

"I win the first round," Cinderella whispered, her voice whooping with a vibe of a victory lap.

The Decisive round. The Tribbing commenced

After a three-minute break where they glared at each other in heavy silence, they transitioned to the main event. This was about the raw, grinding heat of their very sexes, their proud pussies.The two busty women locked their legs together, pussy to pussy, their hips fused. Cinderella took the lead by sliding her body upward until she was seated firmly atop Tremaine's lap in a mirrored, face-to-face tribbing position. Their legs were entwined, thighs gripping each other like vices, locking them into a singular, pulsing mass of flesh. The initial contact was a shock of wet heat. Their clitorises collided with a visceral, slapping sound, the friction instantaneous and agonizingly sharp. Lady Tremaine, recovering from her previous defeat, didn't let the girl settle. She lunged upward, her stronger, older hips driving into Cinderella's pelvic bone with a rhythmic, punishing force.

Tremaine gasped, her voice a guttural snarl, "You think a little flexibility makes you a queen?"

She gripped Cinderella's waist, her nails digging into the soft skin of the girl's hips, and began to grind. She used her weight to crush Cinderella downward, her pelvis rotating in a heavy, clockwise circle that sought to flatten Cinderella's sensitivity into submission.

Tremaine hissed, "I will grind the arrogance out of you, you slut!"

Tremaine was dominating the pace, her heavy 34DDs bouncing and slapping against Cinderella's 34DD tits with every violent thrust of her hips. Cinderella's head thrashed back, her eyes rolling into her skull as the sheer pressure of Tremaine's grinding pushed her toward a precipice. For a moment, it seemed Tremaine would breeze through the round, her experience and raw strength overwhelming Cinderella.

But then, the shift happened.

Cinderella's breathing changed. She stopped fighting the momentum and started using it. Leveraging the same flexibility that had served her in the dance halls, Cinderella suddenly shifted her angle. She didn't just push back; she tilted her pelvis at an acute, predatory angle, locking her vulva directly against Tremaine's most sensitive nerves.

Cinderella's grip on Tremaine's shoulders tightened, her fingers digging in as she began to oscillate her hips. It wasn't the blunt force Tremaine was using; it was a surgical, high-frequency vibration. Cinderella began to roll her hips in a tight, agonizingly precise figure-eight, her clitoris acting like a grinding stone against Tremaine's engorged flesh.

Cinderella hissed, her voice dripping with a newfound malice. " "Is that all you have, bitchcxnt ?All that power, and you're still just clumsy."

The friction intensified. Cinderella increased the speed, her hips becoming a blur of motion, creating a vacuum of heat and lubrication that made a wet, squelching sound echo through the silent room. Tremaine's eyes widened; the sensation was no longer a dull crush, but a lightning strike. The precise angle of Cinderella's grind was hitting a spot Tremaine hadn't felt in years, a depth of stimulation that threatened to shatter her composure.

Cinderella sneered, her hips accelerating into a frantic, blurring pace, "I can feel you shaking. I can feel your pussy twitching against mine."

Cinderella delivered one final, devastating surge, thrusting her pelvis forward and twisting with a violent, flexible snap. The friction peaked in a blinding flash of nerve endings.

Tremaine shrieked as her back arched and betrayed her surrender, "Ahhh!"
Her entire body convulsed; her pussy clamping tight around Cinderella's as a massive, toe-curling orgasm ripped through her. She collapsed back into the pillows, her breath coming in ragged, sobbing gasps, her body vibrating with the aftershocks of a total surrender.

1-0

"First round of the tribbing. My win," Cinderella whispered, her voice jubilant and triumphant.

As she stood over the older woman, her own breath was a ragged symphony, her sex core humming with a tension. Cinderella had managed to hold her own orgasm back after she had made Tremaine cum. She refused to be the one to break first. Tremaine lay shattered, her limbs heavy and useless, her 34DDs still heaving in a slow, exhausted rhythm. She looked up at Cinderella with eyes that were glazed, the remnants of her orgasm still pulsing through her nerves. Cinderella let out a sharp, mocking laugh, a sound of pure, jubilant joy. Her voice vibrated with triumph

Cinderella boasted, "Look at you. Utterly defeated. You couldn't even make me cum, Tremaine. I am still standing, and I am still hungry."

Cinderella basked in her victory, her stunning 34DD tits heaving, her skin flushed a deep, burning crimson. But in her arrogance, she failed to realize the physiological price of her restraint. By denying herself that winning release, she had left her body in a state of hyper-arousal. Every nerve ending in her pussy was screaming, her clitoris engorged and throbbing like a second heart. She was a live wire, primed for the slightest touch, her sensitivity pushed to a breaking point where any friction would be catastrophic.

Tremaine, however, was in the "spent" phase. The crushing peak of her orgasm had left her temporarily numb. While she was exhausted, she was no longer on the precipice. Cinderella stepped back toward the bed for the second round, her movements fluid but frantic, unaware that she was walking into a trap of her own making. She believed her arousal was a weapon. She didn't realize it was a vulnerability. Tremaine's eyes cleared. She saw the way Cinderella's thighs trembled and the way her hips swayed with an involuntary, needy urgency. Tremaine realized the strategic error Cinderella had made. Cinderella was far closer to the edge than she was.

"You think you are so clever," Tremaine rasped, her voice a dry whisper.

Suddenly, Tremaine exploded. With a burst of predatory desperation, she leapt from the pillows. She didn't glide; she launched herself, her weight slamming into Cinderella's midsection. The force of the impact knocked the wind out of the girl, and in one seamless, violent motion, Tremaine drove Cinderella backward onto the mattress. The air left Cinderella's lungs in a sharp wheeze. Before she could recover, Tremaine was locked in. She didn't waste time with preliminaries. She drove her pelvis forward, locking her pussy flush against Cinderella's hyper-sensitive core.

"My turn," Tremaine hissed.

The contact was like a lightning strike. Because Cinderella had denied herself, the first touch of Tremaine's wetness against her engorged clitoris sent a jolt of electricity through her entire spine. Cinderella let out a strangled scream, her back arching violently, her hips bucking instinctively. Tremaine didn't let up. She understood the advantage. She pinned Cinderella's thighs with her own, locking them in a crushing grip, and began to grind. It wasn't the surgical precision Cinderella had used; it was a heavy, relentless, pulverizing pressure. Tremaine ground her pelvic bone directly into the center of Cinderella's arousal, using the girl's own heightened sensitivity as a weapon against her.

"Oh god!" Cinderella shrieked, her voice breaking. "Wait.Stop!"

Tremaine growled, "Why stop?"

She shifted her weight, rotating her hips in a slow, agonizingly deep circle that smeared their combined lubrication across every single nerve ending Cinderella had tried to protect.

Tremaine smirked, "You wanted the second round, didn't you? You wanted to show me how much you could take?"

Cinderella was drowning in sexual pleasure. Every slide of Tremaine's hot pussy sent pleasure through her body. The strategic mistake was now a crushing reality. She was too aroused and the friction was too much. She tried to push Tremaine off, but her muscles were weak from the sheer intensity of the pleasure. Tremaine felt the girl's pussy twitching frantically beneath her, the same desperate vibration that had signaled her own defeat moments before. Tremaine didn't just grind; she anchored herself, locking her legs around Cinderella's hips to ensure there was no escape. She accelerated the pace, her pelvis becoming a piston of relentless, crushing heat.

Tremaine roared her voice thick with a dark, triumphant and primal lust. ""You're breaking, Cinderella! I can feel it! Your body is screaming for it!"

Tremaine screamed," Cum for me, bitch. Pump your hot cum into my pussy."

Tremaine shifted her angle, diving deeper into the friction. She ground her clitoris directly into the heart of Cinderella's engorged heat. Cinderella's eyes rolled back, her fingers clawing uselessly at the silk sheets. The hyper-arousal she had cultivated became her undoing.

Cinderella wailed, her voice oozing pleasure and panic. Cinderella couldn't even form words. With a guttural, soul-shaking scream, her body snapped. An intense, explosive orgasm ripped through her, far more violent than any she had ever known because of the delay. Her internal muscles clamped shut in a series of rhythmic, agonizingly powerful contractions, her entire frame shuddering as she was ground into the mattress by Tremaine's weight. She was a live wire short-circuiting, her voice trailing off into a series of breathless, high-pitched whimpers as she collapsed into the abyss of a total, blinding climax.

Tremaine did not stop. Unlike Cinderella's previous mistake of detaching the moment the victory was won, Tremaine 's pussy remained fused with Cinderella's twat. She felt the ripples of Cinderella's orgasm pulsing against her own flesh and the sensation acted as a catalyst. Tremaine didn't pull away. She leaned in, continuing to thrust her pussy deep into Cinderella's twitching sensitive, post-orgasmic sensation laded twat. She felt her own climax building which was not a slow burn, but a passion eruption. With a loud, guttural moan of absolute jubilation, Tremaine's body went rigid. As she peaked, Tremaine's body convulsed in a violent, rhythmic surge. She pumped her hot, thick cum directly into Cinderella's pulsing pussy, their bodies locked in a desperate, wet embrace. The sensation was a total white-out, a collision of two women completely undone by one another.

For several long minutes, neither moved. They remained fused, the only sound in the room the heavy, synchronized heaving of two sets of lungs and the distant crackle of the dying fire. The heat between their thighs was stifling, a humid, musk-scented vacuum that slowly began to cool. Eventually, the tension snapped. Tremaine slid off with a wet, dragging sound, falling sideways onto the mattress. Cinderella rolled onto her back, her limbs splayed, her chest heaving in slow, shallow gasps. They lay side by side They were both spent, their muscles trembling, their minds hazy with a pleasure filled fog. Tremaine turned her head, looking at the girl. Cinderella looked back at Tremaine. The score was 1-1. The battlefield was a wreckage of silk and lust, and the air was heavy with the scent of their shared conquest.

"The last round," Cinderella whispered with competitive hate and lust.

"The last round," Tremaine agreed, her voice heaving with the same mix of emotions.

They lay there in the silence, resting on an even keel, knowing that the final fight would be the hardest,not because of the stakes, but because they were both utterly exhausted, fighting on empty tanks for the ultimate crown of the household.The three-minute break was not a reprieve.It was a cold war.

They lay motionless, two statues of flushed skin and glistening sweat, staring at each other. The air between them hummed with a static charge, thick with the musk of their combined releases. Lady Tremaine's heavy 34DDs rose and fell in slow, labored heaves, her breasts still tingling from the friction. Cinderella's gaze was locked onto Tremaine filled with the predatory hunger of a rival. Neither spoke. The only sound was the wet, rhythmic drip of lubrication soaking into the expensive silk sheets beneath them.

The silence was a countdown. They were calculating their remaining strength, measuring the tremor in each other's thighs.

"Now," Tremaine breathed, the word more a snarl than a whisper.

. Both women let out a guttural cry of effort and launched themselves toward the center of the bed simultaneously. They collided in the middle with a visceral, slapping impact of flesh on flesh, their bodies intertwining in a frantic, desperate scramble for the upper hand.They jostled violently. Cinderella surged upward, her smaller but more agile frame allowing her to pivot, pinning Tremaine's shoulders into the mattress.

"I have you!" she gasped, her heavy breasts crushing against Tremaine's as she fought to anchor herself.

Tremaine was a woman of surprising, hidden strength. With a roar of defiance, she bucked her hips and arched her back, a sudden, explosive surge of power that flipped Cinderella over like a doll.Tremaine was on top in an instant, grinding her pussy into Cinderella's twat.

Tremaine bellowed, "You are nothing in this house!"

The battle shifted rapidly. They rolled across the expanse of the bed.Cinderella would secure the dominant position, pinning Tremaine's legs with her own, only for Tremaine to slide out from under her with a slick, lubricated twist. They were locked in a cycle of dominance and surrender, neither willing to yield an inch of the mattress.

As the struggle intensified, Cinderella felt her strength flagging. She looked into Tremaine's eyes and saw her rival's confidence returning. In that moment, Cinderella didn't reach for physical strength; she reached for memory. She recalled the previous night, the tactile sensation of Tremaine's absolute surrender, the way Tremaine had trembled beneath her. She remembered the exact angle of the kill, the precise point where Tremaine's pride dissolved into raw, pleading lust.

A burst of vigor, fueled by a cocktail of ancestral rage and carnal desire, surged through Cinderella's veins.

With a sudden, violent explosion of movement, Cinderella didn't just flip Tremaine,she launched herself upward and clamped down. In one fluid, powerful motion, she grabbed Tremaine's wrists and forced the older woman's legs wide, hoisting herself up into the Amazon position.

Cinderella sat astride Tremaine, her thighs locking the older woman's hips in a vice-like grip. She was the tower; Tremaine was the foundation.

"Look at me," Cinderella commanded, her voice vibrating with a terrifying authority.

She didn't begin with a slow grind. She began a frantic, rhythmic assault. Cinderella started grinding her clitoris upward and downward with a ferocious intensity and then she shifted the axis, rotating her hips in a clockwise spiral, then snapping them counter-clockwise, creating a force of sexual friction that tore through Tremaine's remaining defenses. Cinderella pooled everything into this movement. She summoned every memory of injustice Tremaine had forced on her. She mixed that anger with a ravenous, starving sexual lust, channeling the injustice of her life into the grinding of her pelvis.

Tremaine's eyes went wide. She was trapped, her legs pinned, her body subjected to a level of stimulation that was bordering on the agonizing. The Amazon position allowed Cinderella to put her entire body weight into every single rotation. The sound was a wet, frantic squelch, the friction generating a heat that felt like it would set the sheets on fire.Tremaine's head thrashed from side to side. She tried to fight, to buck,but she was anchored. Cinderella's thighs were like iron bands, and the relentless, clockwise-counterclockwise grinding was a centrifuge of pleasure that Tremaine couldn't escape. The older woman's 34DDs were bouncing violently, slapping against Cinderella's chest with every frantic rotation of the hips.Cinderella shifted her gear. She moved from the rotation to a brutal, rhythmic pumping, driving her clitoris upward with the force of a hammer, hitting that same, forbidden nerve that shattered Tremaine's composure. Every thrust was a punctuation mark of dominance. The friction reached a fever pitch, the combined lubrication of their two bodies creating a slippery, suctioning chaos that amplified every single vibration.

Tremaine's body began to vibrate. Not from the movement, but from a peak that was too large for her to contain. She was a coiled spring, her nerves screaming, her pussy clamping and unclamping in a desperate, reflexive rhythm. Cinderella delivered one final, devastating twist--a clockwise spiral that ended in a sharp, violent snap of her pelvis forward.

Tremaine's world exploded. A scream of absolute, unconditional surrender tore from her throat as a massive, soul-shattering orgasm ripped through her. Her back arched so sharply it nearly left the mattress, her fingers clawing at the silk sheets as the waves of pleasure crashed over her in a relentless tide. She didn't just climax.She broke. Every muscle in her body spasmed, her 34DDs quivering with the intensity of the release, her mind going completely blank as she was drowned in the white light of a total, crushing surrender. Cinderella didn't let go. She stayed in the Amazon position, feeling the tremors of Tremaine's defeat pulsing through her own body. She felt the older woman's internal muscles clamping tight, the heat of the orgasm radiating between them like a furnace. As the final convulsion subsided, Tremaine collapsed back into the pillows, her limbs splayed, her eyes rolling back into her head. She was a ruined woman, completely spent, her authority dissolved into a puddle of sweat and lust.

Cinderella slowly slid off, the wet sound of their separation echoing in the silence. She stood over Tremaine, her chest heaving, her skin glowing with the heat of the fight. She looked down at the defeated matriarch, the woman who had spent years trying to diminish her, and felt a sense of completion that no dress or ball could ever provide.

"Round three," Cinderella whispered, her voice cold and triumphant, "is mine. The sexfight is over."

Tremaine didn't answer. She couldn't. She lay there in the wreckage of the bed, her breathing ragged, her 34DDs still twitching with the aftershocks of the most violent pleasure of her life. She had been beaten, not just by a girl, but by the very passion she had tried to suppress.

End of Chapter 3 .

Producer Announcements / "LAST BELLY STANDING: BBW Punc...

Last post by xclipshow - Today at 02:43:43 AM

LAST BELLY STANDING: BBW Punch-Out
Real punches. Real exhaustion. One belly will fall.
Two powerful BBW women -- fiery Rosalia and the towering blonde Agatha Hoffman -- step into an unusual arena: the living room of an apartment. Wearing boxing gloves and both nude nothing but fierce determination, they face off in a brutal belly punching challenge.
The rules are simple: take turns delivering deep, real punches to each other's soft, untrained stomachs. No dodging. No blocks. The one who quits... loses.
Agatha, larger and heavier, uses her sheer mass to absorb the impacts -- but each hit drives the air from her lungs. Her belly is big and soft, but far from invincible.
Rosalia, though smaller, strikes with precision. Yet her plush, round belly offers little resistance, especially when Agatha targets her solar plexus, sending waves of shock through her curvy frame.
Groans, gasps, and sweat fill the room as the match intensifies. Both women struggle to stay standing, their abs taking real punishment.
It's not just a fight -- it's a test of endurance, pride, and belly resilience.
Who will outlast the other in this relentless, breath-stealing clash?

Click below to see more:
https://www.clips4sale.com/studio/16375/34256123

preview clip:
https://imagecdn.clips4sale.com/accounts99/16375/clips_previews/prev_34256123.mp4

XCLIPSHOW CATFIGHT
https://www.clips4sale.com/studio/16375

General Discussion about Catfights / Re: Do western fans like Asian...

Last post by Horny-Jew - Today at 02:39:12 AM

Thank you for posting the trailers. Just wish they wore tops so they could be ripped off. Also, the woman taking the video in the black shirt is really hot, too.

C4S Videos Discussion / Beaten By Bagheera mp4

Last post by fcfbot - Today at 02:05:14 AM

Beaten By Bagheera mp4

Exotic newcomer bagheera is getting a lot of attention for her stunning good looks and incredible skill at wrestling. she takes on blonde gabi, who is also new but not as strong or skilled as bagheera. gabi claims at the start that she's tougher than she looks, but once they start wrestling it appears looks can be deceiving for gabi. bagheera dominates from the start with a breast smother using her huge tits to deny gabi air, then uses her sexy ass in a reverse face sit. gabi is stubborn and won't give up quickly but that only makes her suffer longer as she can't escape one of the holds she's trapped in. then bagheera catches her in a headlock using her massive boobs to help hold her down! then more smothering with a hand smother from different positions, followed by bagheera's first head scissors, which gabi hopes will be her last! if that's not enough then bagheera puts her in a reverse breast smother where she pins her arms down with her legs, making it literally impossible to escape. finally bagheera shows mercy as after a couple more scissor holds she stops the onslaught. at end is the ultimate humiliation as bagheera sits on gabi's sexy stomach and presses her feet all over gabi's face while doing a double bicep pose! gabi now knows what it's like to be "beaten by bagheera".

>> Watch the full scene <<