Hello everyone. Sorry for taking so long to end this story. I recently finished using ChatGPT to help me with translating to English and improving my writting. So I will drop all parts here once again. The wording is a little different from before but the ideas are the same so not much changes.
Part 1 – The PartyThe internet was still on fire after Denise Rocha and Andressa Urach almost tore each other apart inside A Fazenda. Andressa got eliminated in that infamous three-way roça, Denise ended up runner-up, and Barbara took the crown. As tradition demands, everyone was invited to the wrap party.
Both blondes showed up in the same battle armor: tiny black dresses, sky-high heels, cleavage down to the navel. Andressa in bubblegum-pink lipstick, Denise in blood-red. They avoided each other like plague until the very end, but they could feel the whispers and the phones filming: “Are they finally gonna fight for real now?”
Image is everything in their world. A real catfight would hurt both brands. So, minutes before the first guests started leaving, they walked toward each other in the middle of the room, fake smiles glued on, security already on standby.
“Hi, Andressa… how are you?”
“Hi, Denise… I’m great! Congrats on second place!” The word second dripped venom.
Denise flashed a shark smile.
“Thank you! I’m actually super happy to make it to the final… unlike someone who got kicked out by public vote, right? Hahaha.”
The air crackled. Just then a reporter appeared with the brilliant idea:
“Girls, photo together? Hug each other’s waist, get really close so nobody looks fat, okay?”
They obeyed. Hips glued to hips, thighs pressed thighs, bellies touched, breasts crushed breasts. Nobody else noticed, but under the fabric they started pushing, testing, measuring who was thicker, who was firmer. Nipples turned into bullets instantly.
The reporter, clueless, dropped the bomb:
“So about that promise to finish the fight outside the show… still happening?”
Both denied fast. Then he brought up the day Denise threw Andressa’s bisexuality in her face and Andressa accused Denise of being homophobic.
“Denise, are you actually homophobic?”
Before Andressa could answer, Denise stepped up:
“Me? I’ll prove right now I’m not.”
Dead silence.
“I can kiss Andressa. Right here. In front of everyone.”
Andressa’s eyes went wide.
“You… what?”
Denise was already blushing, but she doubled down:
“We’re friends now, aren’t we? You’re always saying you kiss your girlfriends with no second intentions…”
Andressa swallowed hard. It was insane, but perfect clickbait to kill the drama.
“…Fine. Let’s do it.”
They turned to each other. Hands on waists, tits smashing together, hard nipples stabbing through fabric. One quick peck. Flashes exploded.
“And how was the kiss, girls?”
Denise shrugged.
“Good kiss… but I felt nothing. That’s why I still prefer men, you know.”
Andressa laughed acidly.
“Same here. Probably because she’s a terrible kisser.”
They waved goodbye to the reporter and bolted to the bathroom to fix their lipstick.
Door locked. Just the two of them and the mirror.
“Thanks for the save back there,” Denise said.
“No problem. Needed a little of your clout anyway,” Andressa replied.
Silence. They stared at each other through the reflection.
“Just so you know… that little peck doesn’t count. I can kiss way better than that.”
“Yeah? Then why did you tell the reporter I was bad?”
“Because you were, you dyke bitch.”
“Say that again to my face.”
They spun around at the same time. Fresh lipstick shining. Eyes burning.
“I could kiss you until you cum, whore. I just don’t want to turn lesbian like you.”
“Bet you’d melt in ten seconds flat.”
Denise grabbed Andressa’s face and shoved her tongue down her throat.
Part 2 – Bathroom KissfightIn seconds it wasn’t a kiss anymore; it was war. Lips crashing, teeth biting, tongues fencing for dominance. Denise’s red lipstick smeared all over Andressa’s mouth; Andressa’s pink left slutty streaks across Denise’s chin.
Bites turned vicious, hands clawed asses, breasts slammed together with wet smacks. They started spinning around the bathroom, banging against stalls, sinks, walls. Denise trapped Andressa against the mirror and shoved a thigh between her legs. Andressa answered with the same move. Both started grinding without admitting they wanted to.
When they finally broke apart, mouths swollen, makeup ruined, drool shining on their chins and cleavages, they looked freshly fucked.
“Almost made you cum, dyke,” Denise panted.
“You’re the one soaked, bimbo.”
They glanced down: nipples like knives poking through fabric.
“This isn’t over,” Andressa growled.
“Midnight. My hotel. Room 404.”
“I’m going to destroy those fake tits tonight.”
“Door’s open. Room is paid until the day after tomorrow.”
Part 3 – Hotel Room TitfightDenise barely closed the door before Andressa attacked. Dresses were ripped apart at the chest in seconds, expensive fabric shredded like paper. Four silicone-enhanced tits collided with a loud slap.
“Fake-titted bitch!”
“Look who’s talking, your implants are cheaper than mine!”
Same insults from the show, now with no cameras to stop them. They spat in each other’s faces (literally), clawed backs, pulled hair. Then the bearhugs started: arms crushing ribs, breasts flattening breasts, nipples stabbing deep.
They destroyed the room, slamming into furniture, leaving sweat and pussy juice trails on the carpet. Denise slipped, fell, Andressa landed on top and pummeled her tits against the floor until tears of rage and pleasure rolled down Denise’s cheeks.
Denise managed to reverse, both ended up sitting on the floor facing each other, legs spread, staring at the shiny trail of girl-cum between them.
Andressa slid two fingers inside herself and showed the glistening mess.
Denise did the same and licked her fingers clean just to taunt.
Next round was coming.
Part 4 – Hotel Room Sexfight FinaleThey crawled the last few inches until their soaked pussies lined up perfectly.
Right thigh over left thigh, legs locked in a tight scissor, hands braced behind them on the ruined carpet.
No one dared to move yet. They just stared, chests heaving, eyes burning with the same thought: whoever cums first loses.
Then, at the exact same instant, both slammed their hips forward.
The first clit-to-clit contact was electric.
“Aaaaaaaaahhh!”
“Aaaaaaaaahhh!”
Two voices, one scream.
They started grinding hard and fast, perfectly matched, hips rolling in savage unison. No one led, no one followed. Every thrust was answered instantly by the other. Ploc-ploc-ploc-ploc-ploc, wetter, louder, faster. Nails dug into asses, teeth clashed lips, tits slapped together with every violent buck.
“Cum, bitch!”
“You first, slut!”
Neither gave an inch. They rolled, flipped, reversed positions twice, three times, but always ended locked in the same scissor, clits fused, refusing to separate. Sweat poured, hair plastered to faces, breath coming in animal growls.
The pressure built like a storm. Thighs trembled. Bellies clenched. Pussies throbbed in the exact same rhythm.
And then it happened, at the exact same second.
Their eyes locked.
Bodies froze.
A single, shared scream tore from both throats.
“FUUUUUUCK!”
They came together, violently, perfectly synchronized. Hot cum gushed from both at once, splashing, mixing, flooding the space between their locked legs. Their hips jerked in unison, riding the waves, milking every last pulse from the other until there was nothing left.
When the final spasm faded, they collapsed sideways, still scissored, still dripping, foreheads pressed together, gasping the same air.
Neither moved.
Neither spoke for a long minute.
Then, hoarse and breathless, Andressa whispered:
“…Tie.”
Denise’s swollen lips curved into the faintest smirk.
“…Tie.”
No winner.
No loser.
Just two exhausted, soaked blondes tangled together on a destroyed hotel carpet, hearts beating in perfect sync.
The fight was over.
For tonight.
End.
I'm sorry if it was kind of lazy by the very end. And also if the whole story was too much lovely instead of more brutal. I pretend somewhere in the future to remake this, being more catfight style but still probably having a bit of the other elements of it. At least to make them looks like fighters instead of lovers. I'd say I've improved a lot as a writer since I started this so if you already liked this story you will pretty much like when I finally remake it.
