Finally, away from the school corridors and the constant tensions with the other girls, Ana had the impression of breathing fresh air for the first time. The seaside holiday with her father, in that sunny and lively resort, was the perfect opportunity to clear her mind. He spent most of his time reading and taking walks, leaving her almost total freedom: a condition Ana enjoyed more than anything else.
Every morning, after a lazy breakfast on the hotel terrace, she would walk confidently down to the beach club. Her blonde hair, tied up in a high ponytail, sparkled under the sun; the two-piece swimsuit, always carefully chosen to highlight her curves, drew stares even before she lay down on the sunbed.
Her generous breasts, barely contained in the fabric, were inevitably what drew everyone’s attention. She enjoyed it, in fact: she experienced those looks as confirmation of her worth. Every time a group of boys interrupted a conversation to watch her walk by, Ana felt that arrogant certainty grow within her.
Lying in the sun, dark glasses covering her eyes, she felt the warmth of the Sun clinging to her skin and the light breeze tousling her hair, while the whispers around her made her tremble. She sensed every gaze, every glance as if it slid over the curves of her body. Two teenagers stopped and giggled nervously as soon as she met their eyes, and she felt the subtle thrill of admiration.
A middle-aged man, pretending to read the newspaper, kept sneaking glances at her, and even some women scrutinised her halfway between judgment and envy. All of this gave her a silent pleasure, a sense of dominance over everything around her. Every hot breath and the sun kissing her skin amplified her pride, the awareness that every body, every mind around her was evaluating, measuring, and acknowledging her beauty, and the thought made her arch her shoulders slightly, puff out her chest, revel in that palpable tension in the air, feel the growing desire to be observed and admired, to confirm with her very presence that no one, absolutely no one, would ever be able to equal her.
Ana loved that role. She loved feeling at the centre, the idea that no one could ignore her. Feeling the boys’ stares, the girls’ envy, was proof that she was destined to become, one way or another, the vivid thought of everyone around her.
That vacation was not just a moment of leisure: for Ana, it was a confirmation. Far from school, fights, and usual rivals, she could finally enjoy the feeling of being the best woman, as she had always believed.
Lying on the sunbed, Ana closed her eyes, letting herself be enveloped by the warmth of the sun. The black swimsuit she wore highlighted every curve; with every breath, her chest rose, unconsciously drawing the attention of anyone passing nearby. Ana knew it well: she perceived the eyes fixed on her like an invisible wave caressing her. In that silence broken only by the sea, she basked in the idea that nothing could disturb her silent dominion over the beach.
From time to time, she adjusted her hair or bent down to take a bottle of water from her bag. Ordinary gestures which, however, seemed perfectly calculated. She never fully opened her eyes, but behind the dark lenses she caught the reflections of the men’s glances and the expressions of the girls observing her from a distance, with a mix of admiration and annoyance. Ana liked that sensation of being watched and envied at the same time. It made her feel invincible, as if the whole beach were there to acknowledge an invisible crown on her head.
After a while, tired of staying still, she slowly sat up, with that natural movement that she knew perfectly well enhanced her figure. As she stretched her arms, ready to head toward the beach bar for a fresh cocktail, two local boys approached her in a friendly manner. One of them, with a sly smile, explained that a small competition would soon be organised at the beach club: a wet T-shirt contest.
“You’d be perfect to win,” said one of the boys, almost admiring.
Ana stared at them, surprised but immediately pleased: the idea seemed ridiculous and irresistible at the same time. She did not take long to respond. At first, she pretended to think, letting her gaze wander over the sea, as if the idea were too frivolous for her. In reality, inside, a shiver of satisfaction had already run through her stomach. That they had noticed her right away, choosing her without hesitation, was further confirmation of what she thought.
She barely bit her lip, pretending to hesitate, but deep down she was already imagining herself on the improvised stage of the beach club, with all eyes on her. She didn’t care much about the prize or the fun, the real reward would be seeing the envy painted on the faces of the defeated girls.
The mere idea that someone could even think of competing with her made her smile arrogantly. Ana accepted with a nod, brushing her hair off her shoulder.
“Fine. But I’m sure there will be no contest,” Her words sounded like both a promise and a threat.
Inside, she felt the excitement growing: that contest would not be a game, but an opportunity to prove, in front of everyone, that she had no rivals.
***
For Charu, the seaside holiday with her friends was something she had been waiting for months. After a year full of studies and small clashes at school that had forced her more and more out of her shell of shyness, the thought of being able to relax with her classmates in a distant resort was like a gift. No parents were watching her, no teachers ready to judge her, only the sea, laughter, and freedom.
The beach was noisy, full of boys and girls their age, and her friends moved lightly, joking and attracting attention with games and provocations. They were all pretty, with slim figures and bright smiles. But none of them had Charu's curves. She knew that well, and that's what made her different.
Her ample breasts, hidden by a colourful swimsuit that barely fit her, were the first detail that caught the eye. Despite her natural shyness, Charu couldn't ignore the effect she had on others. When she walked alongside her friends on the sand, she could clearly feel the boys' eyes sliding over them, only to always stop on her, almost unable to look away. Her friends noticed this and reacted with ironic smiles or light-hearted jokes, but deep down, Charu felt that this detail was slowly changing something inside her.
Lying on her towel, her dark hair spread across her shoulders, she let the sun warm her while her friends chatted nearby. Now and then, one of them would joke about how Charu never went unnoticed, and she would blush, trying to hide a smile that betrayed her pleasure at the attention. She wasn't used to being the centre of attention yet, but she was beginning to like it.
She didn't seek out the glances, but she felt them. She sensed how people approached her with an excuse, how boys found the courage to say a word more to her than to the others. There was a subtle power in all this, and although Charu still experienced it with shyness, inside her grew the awareness that it was not just a coincidence: she had something the others didn't have.
And as the days passed, that thought took shape. Her friends were outgoing, cheerful, and attractive, but none of them could command attention like she did, even without trying. And in that game of sun, sea, and laughter, her shyness was slowly giving way to a pride she had never dared to fully show.
Lying in a row on colourful towels, Charu's friends talked animatedly about boys, parties, and photos to post online. They laughed loudly, joking about who had already been noticed and who couldn't catch anyone's eye. Charu listened more than she spoke. Now and then, she just smiled, her eyes closed behind her sunglasses, letting herself be enveloped by the warmth of the sun and the buzz of the beach. Yet, deep down, she knew that the topic concerned her more than anyone else: as lively and attractive as her friends were, the most intense and insistent glances always fell on her.
The girls knew it and pointed it out lightly.
“Look how they're staring at you,” one whispered, giggling and nudging Charu.
“I swear, if I were you, I'd feel like a movie star,” added the other.
Charu blushed, pretending not to care about the jokes, but a subtle smile escaped her. It was true, she felt eyes on her, and despite her shyness, she was beginning to like that feeling, warming her almost more than the sun itself.
After a while, Charu got up to stretch her legs. Her dark hair slipped over her shoulders as she adjusted her sarong, ready to walk to the bar. That's when two guys from the beach, visibly excited but smiling, approached her. They explained that there would be a wet T-shirt contest that evening, and that they thought she would be perfect for it. Charu stared at them with wide eyes, surprised and embarrassed. She was already shaking her head when her friends intervened, enthusiastic.
“You absolutely have to do it! It's your chance!”
“With that body, you're sure to win.”
Amid their laughter and encouraging looks, Charu felt a strange mixture of fear and excitement rising within her. She hesitated for a moment, then, with a deep breath and a shy but determined smile, she nodded: she would accept the challenge.
***
The sun was beginning to set, but the party had just begun. The colourful lights of the beach reflected on the rough sea, while music blared from the speakers and the crowd gathered around a makeshift stage: a few wooden platforms, buckets of water, and the enthusiasm of dozens of young people ready to have fun. The announcement of the wet T-shirt contest had everyone running: onlookers, participants, and friends ready to cheer them on.
The contestants gathered not far from the stage, some laughing and joking, others already tense as if it were a real beauty contest. The air was electric, mixed with excitement and competition: each of them knew that this evening could turn into their moment of glory.
Ana, the blonde Ukrainian, was the first to enter, confident and haughty, wearing a simple white T-shirt over her black bikini, but she already knew that she wouldn't need anything else to dominate the boys' gaze. They followed her wherever she moved, and she walked as if she had been born for that moment.
Immediately afterwards, the other contestants approached, each with her own charm: a very exuberant curly-haired Spanish brunette who joked with the audience, blowing kisses and hugging everyone; a petite French girl with sweet features and an naive air who seemed to be enjoying herself more for fun than for competition; a very tall German girl with an athletic physique who wore her shirt as if it were a uniform and displayed a warrior-like attitude; and finally, a small, feisty Italian girl who talked non-stop with her friends at the edge of the stage, already planning how to impress with her bold smile.
Finally, Charu arrived with her friends, pushing her and laughing, visibly more embarrassed. Her shyness was evident in the way she held her hands at her sides, but her eyes sparkled with a new determination. She wore a thin, slightly loose-fitting pastel-colored T-shirt, a detail that, when wet, would reveal every curve of her body. As she approached, she sensed the gaze of the crowd already evaluating her and felt a new confidence growing inside her, ready to emerge.
The first jet of water shot out amid general laughter, and in an instant, the contestants' white and colored T-shirts stuck to their bodies. The crowd exploded with applause and whistles of enthusiasm, and the music rose in volume, transforming the stage into a small open-air theatre.
The Italian, with a sly smile, immediately began to move energetically, improvising dance steps and making the audience laugh with funny faces and poses. Her wild energy immediately won her sympathy, but it was clear that she was playing more on charisma than physical impact.
The German took the opposite approach, more rigid, strong, almost soldier-like. She raised her arms as if to show off her muscles, moving to the rhythm but with a dominant presence, which drew thunderous applause from those who loved her athletic confidence.
The Frenchwoman, with her already transparent shirt, remained more restrained. She danced laughing, with a naivety that made people smile and earned her tender, almost protective cheering, as if she were the ‘girl next door’ catapulted into a game bigger than herself.
Then it was the Spanish girl's turn: explosive, charismatic, she moved as if the stage were a dance floor in Ibiza. She swayed her hips gracefully, blew kisses, and winked at anyone who looked at her. The audience responded by cheering, won over by her infectious enthusiasm.
When the water hit her, Charu stood still for a moment. The pastel-colored shirt immediately clung to her chest, revealing her generous curves without mincing words. Her friends at the edge of the stage exploded in a roar of encouragement, shouting her name.
At first, Charu just laughed nervously, shrugging her shoulders as if she had happened to be there by chance. But then, almost instinctively, she let her arms fall to her sides and began to move to the rhythm of the music. Her dark, wet hair fell over her shoulders, and every step was spontaneous, natural, almost innocent. It was precisely that spontaneity that drove the audience wild: there was no artifice, no studied pose. It was as if Charu shone without even trying. The applause grew louder and louder, and for the first time, she began to really believe it. People liked her.
When it was Ana's turn, the crowd already seemed excited, but her mere presence managed to silence the general buzz for a moment. The sheer white shirt clung to her wet body, revealing her breathtaking figure without veils. She didn't laugh, she didn't show shyness. Her body moved slowly, sensually, with the calmness of someone who already knows she is the only one who can win. Her every gesture was calculated, smoothing her blonde hair, leaning forward slightly, running her hand over the shirt clinging to her ample bosom. The audience erupted in cheers, and Ana smiled slightly, with her characteristic icy arrogance.
As the competition progressed, the confrontation became inevitable. The crowd began to divide: on one side were Ana's fans, captivated by her confidence and dominant sensuality, and on the other were Charu's fans, surprised and won over by her shyness transformed into natural grace.
Every time Ana made a decisive move, Charu responded, without even meaning to, with a spontaneity that seemed to break through her rival's studied air. It was like fire against water, arrogance against authenticity. And the increasingly noisy audience had already realised that the competition had become a duel between the two, while the other contestants faded into the background.
The music reached its climax, the buckets of water followed each other in rapid succession, and the crowd screamed so loudly that individual voices were lost in a single roar. There were no longer six contestants on stage: there were only two opposing figures facing each other without words, without touching, but bound by a visceral tension.
Ana moved slowly, sinuously. Every gesture seemed to scream at us to look at her as the best woman among the others. Her breasts swayed under her soaked shirt, her blonde hair stuck to her skin, her gaze fixed and sharp like that of a predator. Inside, she was boiling with pride. The feeling of power she felt every time the audience exploded at her every move gave her chills. She was sure that victory was already hers: people could delude themselves, but no one would ever surpass the icy charm of the best woman.
Charu, on the other hand, was having a different experience. Her heart was racing, every splash of water made her shiver, but not with fear, rather with euphoria. She was no longer the shy girl who hid behind her friends. She could hear the crowd cheering her on, she could see the reddened faces shouting her name, and she let herself be carried away by the rhythm.
“Is it really me they're looking at? Me, who never had the courage?” thought the brunette.
Every smile she gave, every instinctive movement, made the audience explode even more. And the more they screamed, the more a new confidence grew inside her, a pride that made her feel more alive than ever before.
Ana and Charu's eyes met for a moment. It was a flash, brief but full of venom. Ana interpreted it as an insolent challenge. The blonde thought that her rival really believed she could compete with her, while the Indian girl sensed Ana's jealousy at realising that she was not the only one who could win this time.
The presenter, sweaty and almost drowned out by the noise, raised the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, the popular jury has decided! Tonight's winner is...”
A sudden silence fell for a moment, immediately followed by an explosion of screams.
“...Charu!”
Her friends jumped to their feet, shouting and clapping. Charu stood still for a moment, incredulous, her hand covering her mouth. She felt the heat rise to her cheeks, her legs almost buckling, but then she burst out laughing, raising her arms. It had really happened. The audience was shouting her name, and for the first time in her life, she felt not only noticed but celebrated. I won... me. Me against her.
Ana stood frozen. The icy smile never left her face, but inside she was seething with rage. Her hands were clenched into fists at her sides, her nails digging into her skin, her heart pounding. How could they? It's not possible. I am the most beautiful, the most desired. This is not a victory, it's an insult. She looked at Charu, surrounded by applause, and thought only one thing: It's not over. It never will be.
The crowd cheered, the music exploded, yet at the centre of the stage, the air between Ana and Charu had become tense. Two failed winners: one who would not accept defeat, the other who had discovered the power of winning.
***
Music boomed along the beach, with colourful lights reflecting off the dark waves. Ana walked through the crowd with the same poise she had shown when she took the stage: slow, sensual, almost regal. She wore a tight-fitting top that further emphasised her curves, as if to erase the outcome of the contest from everyone's memory. No matter what they decided, I remain the woman everyone looks at, she repeated to herself, and the thought gave her a sense of revenge.
Every step she took was accompanied by male glances that did not attempt discretion. Someone offered her a cocktail, another tried to strike up a conversation, and Ana responded with faint, cold smiles, whose sole purpose was to fuel the desire of others without conceding anything. Inside, however, her anger did not subside: she could still hear the echo of Charu's name shouted by the crowd, and the more the boys stared at her, the more her need to reassert herself grew, to prove that no one could truly overshadow her.
As she grabbed a mojito glass from the counter, she turned to the right, swaying her hips with natural elegance, unaware that a few moments later, on the other side of the bar, another figure was advancing in the same spot, unaware of how close they were.
Charu, on the other hand, had arrived with her friends, dragged along rather than convinced. She was still wearing short jeans and a light blouse, her dark hair slightly damp from the race. Every time someone recognised her and pointed her out with a smile or playful applause, she blushed and shook her head. But beneath that embarrassment was something new, something she had never felt before: pride. I really won... me, shy Charu, was chosen from among all the others.
Her friends acted as a constant chorus, ordering drinks, dancing, and hugging her constantly. Charu had never been the centre of so much attention, yet she was letting herself be carried away: she danced and laughed, her hair swaying to the rhythm of the music, her feet sinking into the warm sand. The men's glances multiplied for her too, and if at first they had embarrassed her, now they began to give her a thrill of pleasure.
She decided to step away for a moment, craving a cool cocktail. She approached the bar counter, still laughing at a friend's joke, and slipped between two guys who immediately made room for her, as if she were an unexpected queen. She didn't know that on the other side, just seconds before, another blonde girl had turned to walk away, missing her by a hair's breadth.
Ana made her way through the groups of young people dancing on the sand, a glass always in her hand. She had no real desire to dance: she barely moved, swaying her body to the rhythm of the music, just enough to keep the attention on her. She was aware of every glance that fell on her, and her pride fed on that silent admiration.
When the DJ slowed down the music for a slower song, Ana decided to move closer to the central bonfire. The flickering light highlighted her profile, her blonde hair sparkling like gold. The men around her seemed unable to talk about anything else. If only she had looked a little further, she would have noticed a group of dark-haired girls laughing loudly, but Ana was too immersed in her aura of superiority to notice.
Charu, on the other side of the beach, was living a dream. Her friends kept dragging her into the dancing crowd, and for the first time, she wasn't trying to hide. She moved her hips to the beat of the music, her arms in the air, her face lit up by the colored lights. Now and then, someone would recognise her from the competition and shout her name, and she would laugh and shake her head, but inside she felt a thrill of euphoria. Maybe I really am changing. Maybe I'm not just the shy girl anymore.
At one point, tired, she decided to take a walk towards the sea. The waves lapped at the sand, and the light from the bonfires illuminated the silhouettes of those who stopped to watch them. Walking slowly, she passed a few meters away from a blonde girl talking to two boys near a wooden table. She didn't pay any attention: she was too absorbed in her thoughts, too intent on savouring the new freedom that burned inside her.
Several times during the evening, they found themselves on the same path. Ana returned to the bar for another drink, and Charu was leaving the counter with a glass in her hand, her shoulders barely grazing the space the other had occupied a few seconds earlier.
Later, Charu let herself be drawn into dancing near the bonfire, and Ana decided right then to move toward the shore, tired of the noise, and the two missed each other by a hair.
When Ana stopped to watch the fireworks exploding over the sea, Charu laughed with her friends a little further back, invisible to her gaze but close enough to feel the same boom in her chest.
It seemed almost like a cruel game of fate, always close but never together, two orbits revolving around each other without touching, as if the right moment were still waiting.
***
Ana walked along the shore, away from the music and the crowd, enjoying the silence interrupted only by the lapping of the waves. She didn't expect to find anyone there, but a familiar voice made her turn around. Charu was sitting on the sand, her knees tucked up to her chest and her gaze lost in the sea.
“Hey,” Ana said uncertainly, “I didn't think I'd find you here.”
“Me neither,” Charu looked up, surprised, then smiled slightly. “I was just looking for some peace.”
Ana nodded and let herself fall onto the sand a short distance away, stroking it with her hand as if to relax.
“Yes, it's too noisy back there. At least here you can breathe.”
For a few moments, the two remained silent, sharing the unexpected quiet. Then Charu, almost without realising it, broke the balance with a light joke.
“You know, I didn't expect to... actually win tonight.”
“I didn't expect to lose either. In fact, I thought it was impossible.” Ana looked at her with a half-smile that hid a hint of wounded pride.
Charu laughed softly, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear.
“Maybe the audience appreciated the difference. My breasts... are rounder, let's say.”
Ana lifted her chin confidently, leaning forward as if to emphasise her curves.
“Round, yes, but mine are higher, prouder. They don't even sag with all that water on them.”
Charu shook her head amusedly, responding with the same game.
“High or not, it's the shape that counts... and mine is fuller. Everyone saw that.”
“That's not enough.” Ana laughed this time without holding back, almost amused by the joking tone. “Look closely, this is perfection. No juries or applause are needed, you can see it with the naked eye.”
Charu stared at her with bright eyes, and for a moment, they looked like two friends joking about something frivolous, even though the flame of rivalry still smouldered beneath the words.
Ana laughed again, but her smile was starting to become more rigid, less playful. She leaned slightly to one side, letting the moonlight illuminate the outline of her chest.
“You know what I think? I think you're trying to convince yourself. Round, full, soft... just pretty words.”
Charu wasn't intimidated. Instead, she stood up and moved slightly toward her, her feet sinking slightly into the sand.
“Yet you weren't the one who won. Maybe you're the one who needs to find an excuse. After all... the audience chose me.”
Ana narrowed her eyes, her lips pressed into a thin line. She stood up slowly, brushing the sand off her legs before looking at the girl.
“The audience was wrong,” said the blonde, running a hand through her hair and arching her chest slightly to better show off her curves.
Charu laughed, but this time her tone was more pointed.
“I figured. But you know what? It's not always other people who are wrong.” Charu laughed, her tone more pointed. “The public loves something that conveys warmth, naturalness. And that... is what they saw in me.”
Charu leaned forward slightly, closing the distance between them even more, her gaze unwavering.
Ana narrowed her eyes, moving closer still, so that there was almost no space between their bodies.
“Do you really believe that victory means anything? Without a stage, no one would notice you next to me. You'd be a shadow.”
Charu didn't move, instead pushing her chest forward slightly, almost touching her, and her smile became sharp.
“A shadow that surpassed you in front of everyone. And there's nothing you can do about it, Ana. My breasts are more beautiful, better. No matter how much you continue to deny it, you won't change the outcome.”
Ana laughed softly, but her voice betrayed anger and disbelief.
“You're the one refusing to accept the truth,” smiled the blonde. “My breasts are higher, fuller than yours. You can only try to imitate me”
“Imitate you? You keep saying you're perfect here, perfect there,” Charu grumbled. “The truth is, you're jealous. I won and you lost. You just can't accept that my breasts are better than yours.”
The waves broke rhythmically behind them, but the air vibrated with defiance. They were on the verge of exploding, both motionless and tense, their breath mingling. One gesture, one glance too many, and the argument would have turned into something more.
The sand beneath them crunched softly with their uncertain steps, while the waves continued to crash on the beach, witnesses to the bodies that seemed to speak, curves facing each other, neither ready to give in.
Ana lowered her voice, her tone more venomous.
“You're wrong, Charu. One night doesn't erase the truth. I'm still the best,” Ana said, her voice lower and more venomous.
Charu tilted her head to one side, her dark hair sliding down her shoulder, and whispered confidently.
“Then prove it. Here...” Charu looked around before returning her gaze to the blonde. “Now.”
Ana grunted, a confident smile playing on her lips. Her fingers flew to the knot between her shoulder blades, pulling hard enough to untie it. The fabric loosened, then slipped away completely, exposing her ample breasts to her rival's gaze. She threw the top defiantly onto the sand beside her.
“You don't know who you're up against,” smiled the blonde.
The breeze instantly cooled her skin, she could feel her nipples hardening quickly, the salty air stinging against her bare flesh. Charu's dark eyes followed the curve of Ana's breasts, the way they were high and firm despite their generous size, her skin illuminated by the moonlight.
Without breaking eye contact, Charu's hands moved towards her back. There was a short pause, and the Indian girl wondered what she was doing, but it was too late to think about it. The bikini top loosened without falling. Charu slid one strap down her shoulder, then the other, and finally her 36EE breasts were free. Her top fell next to Ana's, onto the sand with a silent rustle.
Both girls looked down at each other's breasts, comparing them to their own. They couldn't find any difference except for skin colour. Silently, the two girls moved closer, pushing their breasts together. A sigh in unison escaped their lips as they felt the weight and firmness of their rival's breasts.
Hands on their hips, Charu and Ana gently pushed forward. The Indian girl's left breast against the blonde's right breast, Ana's left breast against the brunette's right breast. Pale flesh and dark flesh pressed together on contact, pushed up and out.
Their eyes never left each other's as the two girls began to massage their breasts together, shivering at the sensation of their nipples brushing against the other pair. The blonde's breasts bent and shifted as Charu's breasts bent beneath hers, both returning to their original shape with each pass.
Charu pulled her shoulders back, pushing her breasts forward even more, and Ana pulled back before slamming her pair into her rival's chest. The brunette let out a small moan, narrowing her eyes at the blonde's smile. Ana quickly slammed her breasts into her rival's chest once more, forcing Charu's flesh against her body.
The moan escaped the Indian girl's lips again when the blonde shifted her shoulders, slapping her right breast into her rival's left breast, pushing it outward. Each breast flattened at the collision, the trembling flesh returning to its perfect shape as their chests separated.
Charu pushed forward once their fleshy pairs joined again, feeling her breasts slide on top of Ana's pair, crushing her flesh from above. Grunting, the blonde pushed back and sent her right breast into her rival's left breast, forcing her to move her shoulders to bring the two pairs back to press against each other frontally.
The blonde girl pushed her left shoulder forward, pressing her breast against Charu's left breast, pushing it back. The brunette responded in kind with the other side, forcing Ana's right breast to be crushed by hers. Both could see how the space between their bodies was equally contested, neither breast seemed to yield more than the other, matching each other in incredible firmness.
Continuing to push one shoulder forward at a time, the two girls found themselves feeling each other's breasts completely on their own chests. Ana hissed as her flesh began to tighten from the pressure, forced back by her rival's thrust. Charu slid her breasts into the blonde's pair, bending Ana's pair as she pushed with opposite force.
Their eyes lowered to see if one breast seemed to yield more than the other, returning to stare silently into each other's eyes. The Indian girl grunted as Ana pushed forward, her breasts crushing Charu's until she was forced to take a slight step back. Once disconnected, the two pairs returned to the perfect shape they both remembered.
“I'll flatten those saggy bags of yours, bitch,” hissed Ana. “My tits are better.”
“All you can do is talk,” grunted Charu. “Your fat balloons will burst against my firmer breasts.” The blonde pushed her breasts forward, making her rival moan as she felt the Russian girl's nipples press into her flesh. “Bitch...”
The brunette quickly pushed her breasts forward with more force, hitting her rival's breasts with a light slap. Ana narrowed her eyes and pushed back, returning the favour, only to be pushed back again by the Indian girl. Pulling back, the blonde slammed her breasts forward, Charu's flesh bending against Ana's breasts before sliding over her chest, bending slightly upward.
Gasping, Charu was met with another slap that made her breasts bounce on Ana's chest. The Indian girl quickly slammed her breasts against the blonde, pushing forward and making Ana moan. The Russian girl pushed back, and when Charu did the same, their hands grabbed their rival's shoulders.
Their eyes locked, bringing their breasts together without thinking. Charu began to slide her breasts over Ana's, their flesh rubbing together, stretching with each movement. Pushing forward, the blonde's flesh split out at the sides as the brunette's breasts sank into hers.
The heat of their bodies, the excitement and jealousy of the moment, began to bring small beads of sweat to their skin, making it shiny and encouraging slow movements. Both felt the other's breasts crushing their own, grinding back and watching the discomfort on the face of the girl in front of them.
Ana growled, pushing hard enough to create space between their chests before slamming her breasts forward. The Indian girl bit her lip to keep from complaining, slamming her breasts into her rival's pair in turn. The first collisions were weaker, wet slaps filling their minds, their flesh merging, breasts moulding relentlessly before separating and slapping again.
The Russian girl's moan escaped her lips when her rival thrust her breasts forward, her eyes wide with surprise as Charu smiled at the sudden discomfort on the blonde's face. The brunette pushed forward again, feeling Ana's flesh swell but return to its original shape once she moved away. Ana thrust her pair forward as Charu moved back, making her rival gasp as her flesh trembled from the impact.
Ana slammed her breasts into Charu's chest again, feeling the dark flesh press against her. The brunette gritted her teeth and struck back. The blonde's legs took a small step back, but her rival immediately pulled her back to slap her breasts again.
“Ugh.”
Ana grunted as she felt her breasts recede for that second, looking down to see Charu's breasts pushing back against hers. Lowering herself, the blonde pushed her breasts upward, slamming her pair into the bottom of her rival's breasts, the dark flesh flattening at the bottom and shaking violently on her chest.
“Slut,” hissed Ana. “Listen to these words!”
Charu let go of the Russian girl's shoulders, stepping back in surprise as the blonde swayed her breasts forward. The brunette's right breast swayed on her chest as Ana's right breast slapped hard against it. The Indian girl pushed her rival's breast away, and the Russian girl quickly thrust her breasts forward.
The fleshy slap echoed across the beach. Charu moaned loudly as her flesh flattened again before returning to its original shape. Ana swung to the other side, crushing her rival's pair and pushing them outward, rewarded with another moan.
When Ana pulled back to swing again, the brunette stepped forward, thrusting her right breast and crashing it into her rival's chest, forcing it hard into the blonde's pale flesh. Ana groaned, grabbing her rival's shoulders to stop her. When she felt the Indian girl's hands do the same, Ana pushed her breasts forward, meeting Charu's identical thrust.
“Bitch,” the brunette growled, “Is that all you've got?”
“I've got a lot more to give you, slut,” the blonde snarled.
Both of them slid their breasts against each other again, feeling their flesh bend at the first touch. Ana pushed forward, and the brunette did the same, feeling their pairs soften further. Without taking their eyes off each other, Ana and Charu continued to slap and push their breasts together, their bodies moving uncertainly in the sand, sliding beneath it to make sure they didn't fall into any holes.
Their breasts continued to push against each other, forcing the rival pair to be raised or lowered, pushed left or right. The flesh of the two girls continued to be pressed and crushed together, pushing them insistently against each other.
Charu slid her breasts down, pushing them hard against the bottom of Ana's breasts. The blonde let out a moan before pushing down and flattening the top of her rival's breasts. Charu's body leaned forward, and the brunette hissed hatefully as she pushed her breasts up again. Stubborn, the two girls continued to push in those directions, staring at each other with hatred before Ana raised her breasts and slammed her pair forcefully over her rival's.
The Indian girl moaned, throwing her breasts upward, digging her nipples into the blonde's tender flesh, making her tremble on her chest. The blonde yelped but returned to slapping her 36EE breasts down on top of her rival's darker twins.
After a few painful exchanges, Ana forcefully lowered her breasts while Charu raised her 36EE breasts to the lower part of her rival's breasts. The wet slap was the strongest of their duel, forcing the two girls to moan in pain at the same time.
Letting go of the brunette's shoulders, Ana took a few steps back as Charu fell to her knees. The two girls remained motionless, panting heavily as their breasts hung down, sweaty and throbbing.
Grumbling, Ana took a step forward, breathing heavily as she looked at her rival still lying on the sand. Charu looked at her with painful hatred, sitting on the pale expanse and spreading her arms, her heavy breathing raising and lowering her chest.
“Come on, blonde bitch,” hissed the brunette, “if you're woman enough.”
Ana stared at her motionless, breathing heavily as she watched her rival challenge her to prove how much she thought she was the better woman. The blonde could have avoided it, lunging at her rival and pinning her to the ground. Her breasts would have beaten the brunette's until she was safely subdued.
But the blonde felt the veiled insult in the Indian girl's request burning inside her, an insinuation that she wasn't woman enough to face her and defeat her in a direct and pure clash of their breasts.
“I am,” Ana growled. “I'm more of a woman than you”
Charu watched her rival sit down in front of her, very close to her. Ana's breasts pressed against her rival's, slowly sliding into position against the Indian girl's 36EE. The girls' arms slowly wrapped around each other's backs, grunting at the contact and pressing their faces against each other's, intertwining their legs to press their bodies completely together.
“My firmer breasts will crush yours,” Ana hissed, staring into the brunette's eyes.
“My breasts are better,” Charu growled. “I'll flatten your weak breasts.”
Slowly, both of their grips tightened, their throbbing breasts swelling outward, both girls feeling their breasts pressed evenly against the other's pair, increasing the pressure by the second. Their nipples pressed together and began to push against each other, breaking the girls' breath.
Each squeeze increased the heavy feeling of pain pulsing in their chests, their flesh continuing to swell against each other with every passing second. They took deep breaths, forcing their breasts to press even harder together as they arched their backs to push their rival's breasts back with their own.
Charu moaned as the blonde's breasts began to push hers back, digging into her flesh. Another squeeze forced Ana to close her eyes at the sensation of her breasts bending and shifting against the brunette's pair.
“F-fuuuck,” Ana moaned.
The blonde pushed again, the Indian girl's pair moulding around hers as her breasts sank in, moaning immediately after as Charu pushed back and forced the Russian girl's flesh to flatten against her chest.
The nipples continued to duel in the middle of the fleshy paradise, pushing each other and trying to reverse positions relentlessly, the girls' arms trembling from the effort of squeezing each other's bodies tighter, feeling their hips and bellies squeeze and rub together. Each thrust distorted the shape of the rival breasts, softer and more yielding with each squeeze.
“Aaaaah...” Charu moaned.
The blonde's flesh was forced to the sides as the brunette's breasts pushed forward, the swollen flesh crushing against her chest. Ana moaned and pushed forward, weakly grinding the Indian girl's flesh, who whimpered at the sensation of her breasts bending further and further, pushing weakly back to capture another moan from her rival.
Throwing their heads back, both girls tightened their grip with all their remaining strength, arching their backs to push everything their breasts still possessed to overcome and flatten the rival pair, exhaling the last essence of oxygen in their fatigued lungs. Their flesh swelled together, liquefying without any chance of overcoming their opponent's firmness, yielding against their chest without energy.
When their strength gave way, the two girls released their grip and fell backwards onto the sand. Both remained lying on their backs, panting, their chests rising and falling frantically, their flesh falling lifelessly at their sides. Their dishevelled hair stuck to their faces, their hands still trembling with rage.
“It's not possible... I can't believe I didn't crush you,” Ana said hoarsely, incredulous.
“And I can't accept that I didn't break you again,” replied the Indian girl, turning to her rival.
A thick silence, broken only by the sea. Their legs still intertwined, they warmed each other's bodies, creating a division from the cold temperature they felt on their chests now that they were separated.
A warm sensation shook their lower abdomens, instinctively, their hips began to make small movements, the fabric of their bikini bottoms rubbing weakly together.
Both closed their eyes, panting as they seemed lost in unknown thoughts, sensations different from the pain that still throbbed in their chests. A minute of silence, broken only by the sound of water continuing to wash over the beach and the slight rustling of their bikinis.
“Ch... ru... Cha... Charu...”
Charu and Ana opened their eyes with a start. Female voices in the distance seemed to be calling the Indian girl's name. The brunette recognised them immediately; it wasn't hard to imagine who they were. Her friends must have been worried about her absence. Ana and Charu's eyes met as their groins were still pressed together, slowly moving apart and separating their bodies.
“I have to admit,” hissed the blonde, “your tits are strong... but next time... I'll break them.”
“Funny, I was thinking the same thing,” Charu growled in an icy voice. “Let's make sure this isn't the last time we meet,” the brunette clicked her tongue. “So next time I'll flatten you good.”
The two girls slowly got up, their bodies tired and covered in sand, but their eyes still burning. Ana turned away without saying a word, picking up her top and putting it on before walking away with her fist clenched at her side, her knuckles white with tension. She walked away with stiff steps, leaving deep footprints in the damp sand behind her.
Charu watched her for a moment, her chest still heaving as she tied the top over her aching breasts. Then she turned her head towards the sea, but before moving, she clenched her jaw and stamped her heel on the sand, as if to imprint her anger on the earth.
Two different silences, but equally filled with hatred. Two opposite directions, the same poison in their hearts. The night had no witnesses, but their conflict had just begun.
As Ana and Charu walked away, their footprints remained imprinted on the wet sand, parallel lines that would never cross. But the waves, slow and stubborn, advanced to erase them, as if they wanted to hide from the world the fury that had just been consumed.
The moon high in the sky watched silently, reflecting its silvery light on the two figures walking away in opposite directions, growing smaller and smaller, farther and farther away. Yet, despite the distance, the air on the beach remained thick with what they had left behind: hatred, jealousy, a desire for revenge that no undertow could wash away.
When her friends saw Charu emerge from behind the rocks, they ran to meet her. Her face looked tired, which worried the girls, who hugged her as if she had run away from them.
“Charu! We looked everywhere for you! Where were you?” asked one of the girls.
“I... I just wanted some fresh air. That's all,” apologised the brunette.
“Damn, girl. You look like you've seen a ghost.”
Charu turned toward the rocks, remembering the isolated and silent beach, interrupted only by the moans of pain from her and Ana as they beat each other's breasts together.
“No... it definitely wasn't.”
“Midnight bath? You’re all wet down there,” the other girl said, trying to liven up the reunion with her friend.
Charu looked down, awkwardly staring at her bikini bottoms. Smiling, the Indian girl stuck her tongue out at her friend, laughing together as they walked back to the party. Charu glanced back once more, wondering if Ana was as wet as she was.
The night returned to calm, but the conflict between the two rivals was now set in stone.
And that was only the beginning.
