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Part 5 - New CompetitorsChapter 17 - Return JourneyBy the time they’d gathered their shoes and exited the bathroom, the other women had already retreated into the kitchen. Amy was relieved; she wasn’t sure she could’ve restrained herself if the cook had still been out in the open—and from the look on Lexi’s face, she felt the same way about her waitress. Without a word, they left the diner.
Once they were safely out of earshot, Lexi whirled around to face Amy.
“Can you believe the nerve of those cxnts?”
“I know!” Amy snapped. “Acting like they fucking owned the bathroom or something!”
“Honestly! We had just as much right to fight in there as they did.”
“Exactly! It really fucking pissed me off.”
Lexi huffed indignantly. “I swear, I wish I’d slapped that bitch’s face clean off.”
Amy smirked. “Well, you might get your chance sooner rather than later.”
Lexi glanced at her, brow raised. “What d’you mean?”
“Before we left, I slipped that cook my room key,” Amy explained. “It’s got the name of the motel and the room number. I reckon she’ll show up after their shift—and I bet she’ll bring her ‘friend’.”
Lexi stopped dead. Amy turned to face her.
“You invited them to our room?” Lexi asked, face aghast.
Amy frowned. “Well, yeah? We hadn’t finished what we started with them. Don’t you want to beat the fuck out of that waitress again?”
Lexi glared. “Well, you could’ve fucking asked me before inviting two strangers to our bedroom!”
“I’m sorry! I didn’t think it’d be that big a deal.”
“Well, you should have fucking considered it before you invited them!”
“I didn’t exactly have time for a discussion, Lex. Or did you forget you were crammed into a fucking toilet stall at the time?”
As usual, their argument was escalating fast. They stood beside Lexi’s car, inches apart. Amy couldn’t understand why Lexi was making such a fuss—she thought Lexi would want to finish what they’d started. Amy certainly did. But now, Lexi was acting like she’d just invited a stranger over for a threesome.
“If it’s that big a deal, I’ll go back in there and tell them not to come,” Amy offered, though the thought made her stomach twist. It’d be humiliating—and disappointing. Plus, she wasn’t sure she could get that close to the cook again without a fight breaking out.
Lexi folded her arms and huffed. “No, it’s fine. I don’t mind if they come. I just wish you’d fucking asked me first.”
Amy threw her hands up in exasperation. “Well, if you don’t mind them coming, what the hell are you bitching at me for?”
“Because you didn’t ask me first!” Lexi yelled. “I might not have been okay with it, for all you knew!”
“So, let me get this straight,” Amy thundered. “You’re mad because a hypothetical version of you might have been upset?”
“No, you dense bitch—it’s the principle of you making decisions on my behalf without asking first.”
“Don’t call me a dense bitch, you arrogant cxnt.”
“Would you rather I called you a fat cow instead?”
“I’d rather you thought of a more original insult, you ugly slut.”
“Whore!”
“Slag!”
They were shouting now, faces flushed with rage, voices echoing off the empty street. Inch by inch, they moved closer, until they were nose to nose. For a moment, it seemed they might come to blows right there on the roadside.
The sound of an approaching car snapped them out of it. They each took a step back just before the vehicle came close enough to see them. Once it passed, they turned back towards each other, the hatred still burning in their eyes.
They moved in close again, toe to toe, practically trembling with the effort of holding themselves back. Amy cracked first—she grabbed a fistful of Lexi’s hair, feeling Lexi do the same a second later.
“We’d better get back to the motel,” Amy snarled. “I can’t wait to get somewhere private so I can tear your dirty fucking hair out.”
Lexi smirked darkly. “My thoughts exactly, cxnt.” She glanced towards her car, then back at Amy. “It’s twenty minutes’ drive back. I don’t know if I can hold myself back from kicking your ass for that long.”
Amy considered this, breathing heavily. “Me neither. If you tried driving us back, we’d probably end up crashing.” She smirked. “Shall we call a cab?”
*
Five minutes later, they were in the back of a cab. An opaque screen separated them from the driver. Amy had peeked through the passenger side window before climbing in—she’d seen the driver was wearing headphones.
Perfect.
As soon as the car started moving, the fight was on. Both women turned in their seats, grabbing hold of one another’s hair and tangling their legs. With their seatbelts on and the confined space restricting them, there was only so much they could do—but it didn’t matter. They strained at the belts, yanking hard at each other’s hair, their faces twisted with effort.
They fought like that for several minutes, neither able to gain the upper hand in the cramped space. Amy growled in frustration. She needed an edge—something to throw Lexi off.
Then she remembered the last time they’d fought in the back of a taxi. Their first real fight. Well… of a sort.
With a snarl, Amy thrust her head forward, smashing her lips against Lexi’s and kissing her hard. Lexi didn’t hesitate—she pushed back immediately, their lips locking together.
The last time they’d kiss-fought, it had taken a while for either of them to open their mouths. Not this time. Amy opened up, her tongue darting forward—and found Lexi ready and waiting. Their tongues met, twisting and tangling as they fought for dominance.
Soft moans escaped their mouths as they pressed against each other, hands still buried in each other’s hair, legs grinding together slowly.
So much had changed since that first fight—less than a month ago. Back then, it had taken two weeks for Amy to even suggest a rematch. Now? They couldn’t go twenty minutes without tearing at each other. A month ago, she’d have called Lexi a friend. Now… she wasn’t sure what they were.
Just looking at her made Amy’s blood boil. And yet, when they were apart, she was desperate to get back to her, to fight her.
They continued until the cab finally pulled into the motel car park. Only then did they break apart—reluctantly—each giving the other’s hair a final, vicious yank before letting go.
Wordlessly, they climbed out of the taxi and headed towards their room. As they crossed the tarmac and climbed the stairs, their eyes locked repeatedly, murderous glares flashing between them.
It felt like an eternity—but finally, they reached the door. Lexi unlocked it with shaking hands and scurried inside. Amy followed, slamming the door shut behind her.
She turned to face Lexi—and the tension between them snapped taut once again.
Chapter 18 - New ArrivalsAs soon as the door clicked shut behind her, Lexi collided with Amy, slamming her back against it. Instinctively, Amy raised her hands, aiming for Lexi’s hair—but Lexi caught her wrists, their fingers intertwining as Lexi forced their hands up against the door above Amy’s head. For a moment, they strained—hands locked, bodies pressed tightly together—Amy trapped between the door and her rival.
Amy fought hard to free herself, twisting and pushing against Lexi’s grip. At times, it felt like the door might give way before Lexi did. But eventually, Amy managed to force their joined hands away from the door, shoving Lexi back a step. Spurred on, she thrust out her chest, their breasts colliding with force, driving Lexi further into the room.
Slowly, Amy gained ground, pushing off the door and forcing them towards the centre of the room. But her burst of strength began to fade. They came to a standstill, deadlocked in the middle of the space—feet braced apart, hands still tightly entwined. Both women pushed hard, locked in a brutal test of strength.
They stayed like that for a while, barely moving. Occasionally, one would surge forward, forcing the other back an inch, only for it to be clawed back moments later. Neither willing to yield.
“You gonna give?” Lexi panted, her face close enough for Amy to see the beads of sweat forming on her forehead.
“Not a fucking chance,” Amy retorted. “One more good push and you’re done.”
“You wish. I can tell you’re starting to flag.”
“Sounds like projecting to me! You’re the one struggling.”
Amy poured every last bit of strength into her next push. Inch by inch, she forced Lexi backwards and down until, finally, she had her on her knees. The panicked flicker in Lexi’s eyes sent a rush through Amy.
“Who’s flagging now?” she smirked, savouring the moment.
But she’d spent too much energy getting Lexi down and couldn’t finish the job. Lexi rallied, straining against Amy’s weakening grip, slowly rising back to her feet. With a guttural growl, she pushed harder, reversing their positions until Amy found herself dropping to her knees.
“Seems like it’s you,” Lexi smirked, answering Amy’s earlier question with a self-satisfied sneer.
Amy’s heart pounded in frustration, but Lexi, like her, was too spent to finish it. Amy gritted her teeth and pushed back, dragging herself upright once more until they were deadlocked again. They stood trembling, hands still locked, sweat glistening on their skin.
Lexi opened her mouth, as if to fire off another taunt—but all she managed was, “Fuck.”
“Fuck,” Amy echoed, breathless.
Despite the clear stalemate, neither was willing to release the other. For a moment, it seemed they might stand like this forever—too stubborn, too proud, neither able to admit defeat.
Then, the sharp sound of a key in the lock broke through their haze. Both women froze and whipped around to face the door. Amy’s eyes flicked to the clock on the wall—5:30 p.m. How long had they been fighting?
The door creaked open and their ‘friends’ from the diner stepped inside. Without a word, the two women closed the door and locked it behind them. Silently, they moved forward, standing shoulder to shoulder opposite Amy and Lexi. The four of them stood in a tense square, the air thick with unspoken challenge.
Amy’s mind flashed back to the bathroom at the diner—the way they’d stood facing off like this—and how that had ended. She suspected they’d come straight from work; both were still in their uniforms, minus the aprons.
The silence stretched. Eyes flickered between the three others in the room. Amy was caught between introducing herself to their guests, or just launching at them. She wanted to lock up with the cook right now, and finish where they’d started.
It was the cook who broke the standoff. She crouched and began untying her shoes. The others followed suit, removing their footwear and tossing shoes and socks aside. When they stood again, the gesture felt deliberate—like a silent agreement. No turning back now.
Amy spoke first. “I’m Amy. This is Lexi.”
The waitress gave a grunt. “Aisha. This is Sammy,” she nodded to the cook. “We fight.”
“So do we,” Amy smirked. That was all that needed saying.
“Nice place you got here,” Sammy remarked, glancing around the plain room.
Lexi grunted. “It suits our needs. Private. Enough space.”
“Better than that bathroom,” Amy added. “No chance of being interrupted here.”
“Except by you two,” Lexi muttered.
Aisha tilted her head, eyes narrowing. “You invited us.”
Lexi shook her head sharply. “
She invited
her,” she spat, pointing at Amy and then at Sammy. “No one invited you.”
Aisha bristled. “You gonna try and kick me out, bitch?”
“Maybe I fucking will,” Lexi shot back, stepping forward.
Before Aisha could react, Sammy moved fast—planting herself between Lexi and Aisha. “
I invited her,” she growled. “You got a problem with that, you take it up with me.”
Amy moved quickly, grabbing Sammy’s shoulder and trying to pull her back. “Hey! Leave her out of this. You and I have unfinished business.”
Lexi rounded on Amy. “You’re not the fucking boss of me! I’ll fight whoever the hell I want to fight.”
“Don’t look at her,” Sammy snarled, dragging Lexi’s attention back. “I’m talking to you!”
Aisha stepped up, placing a possessive hand on Sammy’s opposite shoulder. “You stay the fuck away from her,” she snarled, nodding towards Lexi.
“She and I have unfinished business. You can go fight that bitch again,” she jerked her chin towards Amy.
Amy snapped her head around, glaring at Aisha. “Who the fuck are you calling a bitch, bitch?”
“I wasn’t fucking talking to you, bitch!”
“You were talking about me! If you’ve got something to say, say it to my face, bitch!”
“Maybe I fucking will, bitch!”
By now, the four women were face to face, their bodies crowding in. They formed a tight circle, elbows jostling, each trying to get closer to their target. Bare toes nudged together in the centre, creating a tense, intimate ring.
For almost a minute, they held there—chests heaving, eyes locked, shoulders pressed—shoving, growling, waiting for the spark that would ignite the powder keg.
Chapter 19 - FourwayThe spark came in the form of a car horn somewhere outside. As if startled by the sound, all four women lunged into action. Aisha reached across the circle, grabbing both sides of Amy’s hair. Amy did the same, latching onto the other woman’s hijab and yanking it from both sides. There was a ripping sound as the material began to tear, enraging Aisha and causing her to pull even harder on Amy’s hair.
The other two women did much the same, reaching across and grabbing one another’s hair, forming a knot of arms in the centre of the circle. The four of them yanked and tugged, jostling against the six other arms entwined in this tangle of limbs.
Amy felt someone stamping on her feet. Not to be outdone, she returned the favour, aiming for Aisha’s toes. She managed to stamp on someone, though she couldn’t be certain if it was her intended target or another woman caught in the crossfire. Regardless, her own foot was soon stomped in retaliation.
The movement of their feet caused the foursome to shuffle around the room, hands still entwined in each other’s hair, their locked arms forcing them to move as a single unit. All four stomped bare feet, paying little attention to whom they struck.
The strange dance continued for a while, until Amy felt the bed frame collide with the back of her shins. The momentum of the group and the combined force of the three other women pushing against her sent her tumbling backwards. Their tight link broke as Amy fell away from her opponent, losing their grip on each other’s hair. This allowed Lexi and Sammy to disentangle themselves. Freed, the two women moved behind Aisha, lunging at one another and planting their hands in each other’s hair.
Aisha, however, had eyes only for Amy. She followed her down to the bed, landing on top of her. Amy immediately threw her to one side, unwilling to be pinned. As soon as Amy regained the top position, Aisha retaliated, rolling Amy onto her back. They repeated the process, tumbling back and forth across the bed. By now, a large tear had formed down the centre of Aisha’s hijab. As they rolled, Amy finished the job, ripping the fabric from her opponent’s head and discarding it, letting the full volume of chocolate-coloured hair spill free. The loss of the garment enraged Aisha further, and she latched onto Amy’s hair, yanking even harder than before. Amy returned the favour, now with unobstructed access to her enemy’s locks.
They rolled violently across the bed, hands tangled in each other’s hair. The other two women were almost forgotten as they focused entirely on one another. Their legs entwined—Amy’s bare against Aisha’s covered—bare feet wrestling. Back and forth they rolled, foreheads pressed together, snarling at one another.
After a time, Amy found herself atop her foe, legs straddling her waist. She released her death grip on Aisha’s hair, instead grasping her hands and pinning them to the bed. Aisha looked up at her, a mixture of panic and anger in her eyes. The pinned woman thrust her hips upward, trying to buck Amy off, but the weight pressing down was too much to shift.
“You give up?” Amy asked, shooting a smug smile down at her defeated foe.
“Never!” Aisha spat back, straining against Amy’s grip to no avail.
Amy sat atop Aisha, waiting for the other woman to concede. She wondered if her opponent would ever give up or if they would remain locked in this position forever. As she pondered this, she was caught off guard by something colliding with her back. Yelping, she tumbled to the side, losing her grip on Aisha. The object that had struck her, which turned out to be one of the other women, sprawled on the bed beside her, their limbs tangling. Amy shoved and wrestled with the woman, eventually managing to disentangle herself.
She sat up on her knees and surveyed the scene. Her assailant had been Sammy, who also knelt on the bed, facing her. Lexi remained standing by the bed, having seemingly shoved Sammy in her direction, causing the collision with the couple fighting on the mattress. Aisha had scrambled to her knees, no longer pinned by Amy.
Amy glanced at Sammy, a spike of rage shooting through her—she had had Aisha pinned until the woman had intervened. Furious, she lunged at Sammy, latching onto her hair. Sammy did not hesitate to respond, grabbing fistfuls of Amy’s blonde locks. With her attention fully on Sammy, Amy spotted Aisha out of the corner of her eye as she crawled towards the struggling pair. She latched onto the back of Sammy’s head, seizing two fistfuls of hair for herself. Sammy barely seemed to notice, so focused was she on Amy. The two-on-one didn’t last long; from the side of the bed, Lexi grabbed Aisha’s hair, dragging her off the bed and onto the floor, forcing her to release her grip on Sammy.
Amy didn’t see what became of the other two fighters; her eyes were fixed solely on Sammy. On their knees on the bed, the two women clasped hands in each other’s hair, yanking and tugging from side to side. Before long, they toppled onto their sides, rolling across the bed as Amy had done with Aisha only moments before. Legs locked, foreheads pressed together, the two bodies tumbled back and forth violently.
Soon, Amy found herself wrestling in mid-air; they had rolled too close to the edge of the bed and tumbled onto the floor. Amy’s back hit the carpet, and the force of the landing caused the pair to break apart. She scrambled to her feet and turned to face her opponent, who had also risen. For a moment, they stared at one another, catching their breath.
Soft grunting came from across the room. Amy couldn’t help glancing away from Sammy to the source of the noise: Lexi and Aisha, locked together on the floor, head to toe. Somehow, the women had managed to remove one another’s trousers; Lexi still wrestled with Aisha’s, tangled around her ankles. Aisha, meanwhile, had been more successful with Lexi’s easier-to-remove skirt, which she had fully discarded on the floor beside them. With her disrobing complete, Aisha focused on Lexi’s bare feet and legs, where she had already left a respectable number of scratches. Both women were now down to a top and a pair of panties—Aisha in a white blouse and nude-brown panties, Lexi in a pale blue tank top and white panties.
Amy tore her gaze from the fighting pair and looked back at Sammy, who had also been watching. Sammy’s eyes flickered toward Amy’s shorts. In response, Amy glanced down at Sammy’s black leggings; the fight on the floor seemed to have given both women some inspiration. Her attention was drawn once more by a shout of triumph. She turned back to the pair on the floor and saw Lexi holding a pair of trousers, now freed from her opponent’s legs. She threw them aside triumphantly and got to work on the other woman’s feet and legs. Amy turned back to Sammy, eager to attack the other woman’s leggings.
WHAMAmy flew backwards as Sammy’s shoulders collided with her stomach. The other woman had taken advantage of her momentary distraction, closing the gap between them and charging at her with a shoulder tackle. Winded, Amy fell back, Sammy following her down. She pressed the attack, scrambling into a sitting position with her butt on Amy’s chest, facing towards her feet. She craned her neck, shooting a shit-eating grin at her pinned opponent before bending over to grab the bottom of Amy’s shorts and pulling.
Amy squirmed in vain, kicking and flailing her legs, but Sammy had the superior position. Amy’s shorts were not difficult to remove and were soon wrapped around her knees. She tried to roll Sammy over, but couldn’t gain leverage. She attempted to raise her hands, only to find them pinned to the floor beneath Sammy’s feet.
Panic set in; she was in a bad spot. There was little to prevent Sammy from removing her shorts entirely—and then what? If the woman chose to do so, she could sit on Amy indefinitely, keeping her out of the fight. She didn’t know whether Sammy would do that—more likely, she’d want to keep the contest competitive—but the thought that, if she wished, Sammy could already have the upper hand made Amy squirm.
Desperate to escape, she flailed and kicked, making Sammy’s task of removing the shorts far more difficult. She struggled to move her hands, pinned firmly to the floor, and dug her fingernails into Sammy’s feet—but the other woman shrugged it off. Sammy readjusted the position of her feet, ensuring Amy’s hands remained trapped, before turning her full attention to restraining Amy’s legs. Unfortunately for Sammy, the shift brought her feet closer to Amy’s face. The prone woman seized the opportunity, craning her neck and biting down hard on the bare sole.
Sammy reacted immediately, shooting upright with a shriek of pain. At the same time, she instinctively wrenched her foot away, inadvertently freeing Amy’s hand. Wasting no time, Amy reached up, grabbing a handful of Sammy’s cascading hair and yanking hard. The woman toppled from her position of dominance, and Amy scrambled up into a half-kneeling, half-sitting posture. Sammy rolled over, clutching her foot and inspecting the fresh teeth marks.
“You BITCH!” Sammy spat, glaring at Amy with fury. “You BIT me!”
“So what?” Amy shot back, meeting her gaze defiantly.
Sammy didn’t respond with words. Instead, she growled and lunged at Amy. Amy obliged, launching forwards to meet her.
They collided and tumbled to the floor once again. Sammy didn’t hesitate to go for the feet, seeking revenge. Amy felt teeth clamp down on her toes. She yelped in pain but ignored the attack, instead seizing the waist of Sammy’s leggings and pulling hard. After a few tugs, the leggings were soon tangled around the woman’s ankles, revealing the skimpy white panties beneath. Realising what was happening, Sammy shifted her attention from Amy’s feet and returned to trying to pull off her shorts. Before long, both women had their lower garments bunched around their ankles.
They lay side by side, locked in a desperate struggle to remove one another’s clothing first. They kicked and flailed, attempting to make it harder for their opponent while continuing to tug and tear at the garments in their hands. Tears began to form in the leggings as the fight grew more frenzied. Amy could hear her own shorts stretching and ripping as Sammy pulled harder, and the thought only stoked her anger, driving her to fight even more fiercely.
Finally, with one last vigorous tug and a loud ripping sound, Amy yanked the leggings over Sammy’s feet. Simultaneously, she felt her own shorts tear free from her ankles. Both women let out a triumphant “HAH!” as they clutched the garments in their hands. With that phase of the fight complete, they rolled away from each other and scrambled to their feet, panting heavily, still gripping each other’s clothing in a vice-like hold. Wordlessly, they dropped the pieces of fabric and stepped closer together.
Their bodies collided, breasts pressing painfully together. Faces mashed, nose to nose and forehead to forehead, lips brushing lightly. Amy thrust her leg between Sammy’s, feeling their thighs press together as Sammy mirrored her. For a long moment, they stood without moving, daring the other to back down—but neither did. At this proximity, Amy could see nothing but Sammy’s hazel eyes.
Suddenly, Sammy flinched. Milliseconds later, Amy felt the woman’s hands burrowing into her hair. She responded in kind, reaching up to grab hold of it. To her surprise, her hands collided with another pair already clutching Sammy’s locks. Confused, she stepped back and glanced over her shoulder.
Behind Sammy stood Aisha, hands buried deep in her coworker’s hair. At some point during her fight with Lexi, her top had met the same fate as her trousers; she now stood in only her underwear—a dark brown bra matching her panties. Her fiery eyes locked with Amy’s, and they glared at each other.
Amy seethed at the interruption of their silent staring contest. “You BITCH!” she yelled. “Let go of her! I was busy fighting her.”
“Fuck you, whore!” Aisha shot back. “I’ve been fighting this bitch for months! She’s mine!”
At this, Sammy craned her head around to glare at her coworker. “Fuck you!” she spat. “I am not yours! I can fight who I damn well please!”
With that, she released one hand from Amy’s hair and grabbed hold of Aisha’s instead.
Amy gave a sharp tug on Sammy’s hair. “HEY!” she shouted. “Ignore her! You’re fighting me!”
A new hand replaced Sammy’s in Amy’s hair—Aisha’s. She, too, had let go of Sammy’s hair with one hand and had seized Amy’s.
“Fuck you!” Aisha yelled. “If she wants to fight me, she can fight me!”
Amy responded with a low growl. Not about to let the woman get away with pulling her hair, she released one hand and buried it in Aisha’s locks.
Now locked in a three-way hairpulling struggle, each woman tugged at two others. They stumbled about the room, stamping on one another’s toes,
grunting and cursing. Faces pressed together, they formed a tight circle, moaning with pain, grunting with exertion, and spitting curses as they battled.
Amid the chaos, Amy’s mind flickered with the thought that Lexi was nowhere to be seen. Just then, she felt a sharp tug at the back of her T-shirt. The fabric strained and tore as she was pulled backwards. She tried to hold onto Aisha and Sammy’s hair but lost her grip as she was dragged away. Immediately, the two other women turned from her and sank their hands into one another’s hair.
Whirling around angrily, Amy came face to face with Lexi, just as she had expected. Without hesitation, her hands shot out—one grasping a lock of Lexi’s hair, the other clutching the front of her top, pulling her in close until their faces were nearly touching. Lexi mirrored her, seizing Amy’s hair and shirt in each hand.
“Fuck you, bitch! I was in the middle of something!” Amy snarled, her mouth almost brushing Lexi’s.
“You cxnts were fighting without me!” Lexi snapped back. “That’s not fair. They should learn to fucking share!”
“It’s not up to you who I fucking fight with, slut!”
“Well, I was fighting you long before either of those twats! You’re all mine.” Lexi tugged possessively at Amy’s shirt, pulling her in even closer.
“Let go! You’ll stretch it, you dumb whore!” Amy snarled, giving an equal tug at Lexi’s top. Their bodies were now pressed together as closely as their faces—toe-to-toe, stomach-to-stomach, breast-to-breast.
“You let go, fucking cxnt!”
Their demands went unheeded. The two women continued to pull at each other’s tops, the fabric straining under the pressure until…
RIP
RIPThe sound of tearing fabric echoed throughout the room. The neck of Amy’s top had ripped wide open, a large gash forming across the front. At the same time, Lexi’s top split at the bottom. Both women glared at each other with murderous intent, furious at the destruction of their garments.
“YOU FUCKING BITCH!”
“YOU STUPID SLUT!”
With twin screams of rage, they sprang into action. Both released their hold on each other’s hair, choosing instead to focus all their energy on their rival’s clothing. Tearing and cursing filled the air as they shredded at each other like wildcats, grasping fabric, flinging one another across the room, crashing together, and pulling apart intermittently as more material tore.
Before long, the fighters were running out of material to destroy. Both women had been reduced to bra and panties—white for Lexi, black for Amy. As Amy yanked the last few strands of fabric from Lexi’s body, she wasted no time burying both hands in her enemy’s hair. At the same moment, Lexi tossed the remains of Amy’s shirt aside and reciprocated the hair-pull.
With that task complete, the two women attacked each other with as much ferocity as ever, tugging at hair, scratching flesh, and biting faces. They stumbled chaotically around the room, legs tangling and bodies throwing each other from side to side.
Amy was faintly aware of the sounds of violence elsewhere in the room—grunts, curses, the slap of skin against skin as Sammy and Aisha tore into one another. She barely noticed; for the moment, Lexi’s furious face consumed her entire attention.
They stumbled and kicked, punched and slapped, scratched and bit. They careened across the room, bodies pressed so close it was hard to tell where Amy ended and Lexi began.
Their brawl continued until, in a frantic shuffle, Amy felt her shoulder collide with someone else. She turned and locked eyes with Aisha, exchanging a snarl. Her hands remained firmly tangled in Sammy’s hair, Sammy standing shoulder to shoulder with Lexi. The two pairs mirrored one another, hands locked in hair in identical battles. All four women were down to their underwear—Amy’s black, Lexi’s and Sammy’s both white, and Aisha’s a nude brown.
For a long moment, nobody moved. They stood as if frozen, hands locked in the hair of their respective opponents, breathing heavily.
Then, they moved as one. Amy released Lexi’s hair with one hand, reaching for a fistful of Aisha’s. Aisha had the same idea, and their hands collided mid-air. Instead of seizing each other’s hair, the two women grasped hands and began to push. Glancing over, Amy saw Lexi and Sammy doing the same.
All four women turned, so that Amy and Lexi now stood shoulder to shoulder, facing down Aisha and Sammy. With one hand still locked in the other’s hair, Amy and Lexi pushed as one, testing their combined strength against the other pair. The free-for-all had, at least temporarily, become a two-versus-two. Amy felt a jolt of satisfaction as the other pair were forced back—only to lose ground moments later.
They remained locked in a battle of strength for several minutes. The two pairs took turns gaining ground, occasionally forcing the opponents to step back. Neither allowed their free hand to drop from the hair of their teammate. Every now and then, Amy felt a sharp tug on her hair and delivered a quick pull in return, a reminder that they were not formal allies.
“Fuck,” Aisha groaned after several minutes of push and pull. “You guys are stronger than you look!”
“I was about to say the same,” Amy shot back. “I wouldn’t have expected someone so short to be almost as strong as me!”
Sammy snorted. “Shame you’re not just fighting her! She’s got me to pick up her slack!”
“Fuck you, bitch!” Aisha retorted, shooting a glare at her would-be teammate. “If there’s any slacking, it’s from you!”
“Yeah!” Lexi added. “I can feel plenty of slack over here.”
Suddenly, Lexi took a step back, courtesy of a hard shove from Sammy.
“How’s that for slack?” Sammy shot, a smug grin plastered across her face.
The grin faded into a snarl as Lexi shoved back, forcing Sammy to step back to her original position. Their foreheads collided with a dull thud, and the two women snarled at each other, straining head-to-head.
Something seemed to snap. Amy felt the tugging on her scalp lift as Lexi released her grip. At the same time, Sammy and Lexi released each other’s hands, instead grasping one another’s heads with both hands. With grunts of “Bitch!” and “Whore!”, the two furious women stepped apart as their grapple intensified.
This left Amy alone with Aisha. Linking their newly freed hands, they settled into a full-on test of strength, straining at each other with all their might. Grimacing, they pushed and shoved back and forth, gaining and losing ground in turn.
“Now we can see who’s stronger without interruption, bitch!” Aisha growled.
“Yeah!” Amy snarled back. “And it’s me!”
“You fucking wish!”
They pushed hard, arms straining, legs spread. Their shoulders came together, and they continued to grapple. Faintly, Amy could hear the sounds of battle elsewhere in the room, but that wasn’t her focus.
“You’re struggling, cxnt!” Amy growled into Aisha’s ear as they shoved back and forth.
Suddenly, Aisha released her hands, wrapping both arms around Amy’s back. Amy winced as her body was constricted. Aisha brought her face level with Amy’s, grinning wickedly.
“That feel like I’m struggling, slut?” Aisha whispered, emphasising the last word with a hard squeeze.
Not to be outdone, Amy wrapped her own arms around the back of her opponent, squeezing hard and eliciting a moan in response.
“Big mistake, bitch!” she moaned, locking eyes with her enemy.
They remained locked in this position, crushing one another’s ribs intermittently, stomachs and breasts flattened together, eyes locked. They brought their legs in, twisting them together and squeezing with powerful thighs.
For a brief few minutes, their whole world was this fight, their bodies so close they might as well have been one—crushing, squeezing, and moaning.
It didn’t last long.
The rest of the world intervened in the form of Lexi and Sammy, hurtling across the floor wrapped together in a vicious catball. They struck Amy and Aisha from the side, taking their legs out from under them. The two women toppled, landing heavily on the fighting pair and breaking apart from the impact. Enraged at the interruption, Amy lashed out, grasping two handfuls of hair from the pile of bodies she’d landed on. Blinded by rage, it wasn’t clear whose hair she’d latched onto—or even if it was the same person’s. She didn’t much care.
The momentum of the ball continued, taking Amy and Aisha with it as they both latched onto the hair and bodies of the two combatants. Soon, Amy felt hands in her own hair, from whom she didn’t know. She didn’t much care.
The four women careened across the floor, rolling over and over for dominance. Hair was pulled, bodies scratched, bitten, punched, and kicked. The tight roll lost its structure, devolving into a pile of bodies clambering over one another, attacking anything within reach. At times, Amy couldn’t tell who she was striking—but she struck nonetheless.
The battle raged on long into the night: four women, stripped down to their underwear, writhing in a pile of flesh and hair; it wasn’t clear where one woman ended and another began. Occasionally, the combatants would pair off for one-on-one battles, but they always returned to the free-for-all before long.
Punches were thrown; hair was pulled; faces and bodies were slapped and kicked and punched; bare flesh was rendered red raw with bites and scratches. Nothing was off the table as the chaotic foursome brawled on into the night.
Eventually, inevitably, the scramble slowed. The sun had long since set outside. None of the women had the inclination to stop the fight and turn on the lights, so they fought on in the dark; you didn’t need to see who you were attacking—only to know that you were inflicting pain on somebody.
The women were tired, hungry, but unwilling to stop. Unable, even. Only exhaustion could end the brawl—and it did. Each woman slowed to a stop at nearly the same time, the last few slaps and kicks landing on partially conscious opponents.
Amy felt a weak squeeze on her breast as her eyelids drooped, retaliating with a limp hairpull as darkness swallowed her.
Chapter 20 - ArmisticeFor the second day in a row, Amy awoke on a pile of flesh. A bigger one than yesterday, but much the same. Her head rested on somebody’s breasts, a bare foot cupped her cheek; her legs were draped around someone’s waist; one hand hovered inches from a tangle of brown hair, the other cupped a breast different from the ones serving as her pillow. Meanwhile, her own breasts were being grasped by a pair of hands, and a leg lay draped across her stomach. Eyes bleary, Amy struggled to identify the owner of each limb in the heap.
Around her, the bodies began to stir as the four women slowly awoke. Groaning, they extricated themselves from the tangle, muttering and snapping at one another as they did. Soon, all four stood in the middle of the wrecked room, taking in the scene. All of them were stripped to their underwear, their mostly bare bodies littered with scratches and bruises. Their hair was a wild, tangled mess from hours of pulling, and the floor was strewn with clothing—some intact, others torn to shreds.
Nobody moved. The foursome stood in a circle, facing one another, the air thick with tension. Looking from Lexi to Sammy to Aisha, Amy felt an almost irresistible urge to lunge, to seize a handful of hair and pick up where they’d left off the night before. From the look in their eyes, she suspected the others felt the same. It seemed like anything might ignite the powder keg.
A stomach rumbled.
Amy’s own growled in sympathy.
“Shit,” Sammy muttered. “I’m fucking starving.”
“Same here,” Lexi said, then glanced at the clock on the wall. “Not surprising. It’s already noon. I don’t know about you guys, but Amy and I haven’t eaten since the diner yesterday.”
“Nope,” Aisha replied. “We spent our lunch break fighting you two in the bathroom, then came straight here from work. Haven’t eaten a thing since breakfast yesterday.”
Amy did a quick calculation. “Checkout’s at five. We could grab something to eat at the diner, then come back and still have a few hours.”
Aisha folded her arms. “Look, I’m not leaving here without a shower. I’m filthy.”
Amy desperately wanted to make use of the time they had left, but she had to admit the four of them looked exactly like what they were: women who had spent hours brawling.
“Alright,” she sighed. “But let’s be quick.”
*
As it turned out, coordinating four women who wanted nothing more than to tear into each other at a moment’s notice was anything but speedy. The argument over who got to shower first dragged on for five minutes and nearly devolved into a brawl before Lexi suggested flipping a coin. Sammy and Amy ended up with the first and second slots. To save time, they agreed to share the bathroom: while Sammy showered, Amy brushed her teeth, and vice versa. Aisha and Sammy were eager to share a shower, but Amy and Lexi vetoed the idea, not wanting a repeat of the previous night.
Amy brushed her teeth, waiting impatiently for Sammy to finish. When it was finally her turn in the cubicle, she made sure to bump shoulders with the other woman on the way in, making her feelings known. She earned a snarl in response, but nothing more.
Once her shower was done, Amy and Sammy exited together. The two dry women barged past them impatiently, earning glares from the pair of dripping wet rivals. The door shut behind them, muffling the sound of bickering.
Amy crossed the room and reached for her towel where she’d left it to dry—only for another pair of hands to seize the opposite corner.
Their eyes locked. The temperature in the room seemed to drop a few degrees.
“Sorry,” Amy said, her voice low. “This is my towel.”
Sammy didn’t let go. “Well, I haven’t got my own. We didn’t know we’d be staying the night.”
Amy gave the towel a firm tug. “That’s not my problem! This towel is mine, and I need to dry off.”
Sammy tightened her grip. “Well, I need to dry off too. Guess you’ll just have to wait until I’m done.”
“Like fuck I will! It’s my goddamn towel!”
A tense silence followed as they gripped the towel between them. Amy knew where this could lead. She would have happily torn Sammy apart—she yearned to—but she knew she couldn’t.
“It’s a big towel,” Amy muttered, forcing herself to hold back. “We can share it.”
Sammy gave a curt nod. Still refusing to release the fabric, they stalked over to the bed. Sitting side by side on the covers, they draped the towel across their shoulders and began drying themselves. Amy was acutely aware of how close Sammy was, of the heat radiating from her skin. Each time their bodies brushed, a jolt shot through Amy as though she’d been shocked with a live wire.
Amy lifted her half of the towel to dry her hair, only to meet resistance. Sammy was sitting on her end as she rubbed down her legs, pinning the fabric to the bed. There wasn’t enough towel left for Amy to reach above her shoulders. She gave it an indignant tug. It didn’t budge.
“I need to dry my hair,” Amy snapped.
Sammy shrugged. “Well, I’m using it to dry my legs. You’ll just have to wait.”
A moment passed, Amy clutching one end of the towel, Sammy perched firmly on the other. Amy felt an urge to stake her claim on the fabric that had nothing to do with drying her hair.
She yanked the towel hard, wrenching it out from under Sammy.
Sammy shrieked as the rough fabric scraped her skin. “You bitch!” she screamed, seizing the freed end. “Can’t you just wait your fucking turn?”
“It’s my fucking towel!” Amy roared, refusing to release her grip.
“Let go!” Sammy bellowed, giving a violent tug.
“You let go!” Amy snarled back, pulling even harder.
The damp towel became a rope in a furious tug-of-war. The two naked, dripping women sat side by side on the bed, straining against each other. Soon they clambered to their feet, legs planted wide, grunting with effort as they hauled back and forth, desperate to wrench the fabric from their rival’s grasp.
Then—
RIPThe towel didn’t split in two, but a jagged tear ran almost halfway across its length. Both women froze, staring at the ruined cloth. For a moment, neither moved. Then Sammy released her end. Amy did the same, letting the towel fall to the floor, no longer worth keeping unless the other tried to claim it.
A pregnant pause hung between them. Then—
SLAPThey launched at one another, bodies colliding with a wet smack. Amy drove Sammy back onto the bed, and at once the two soaking hellcats were rolling across the covers. Fists tangled in dripping hair, bare legs entwined as they writhed furiously.
They came to a stop with Amy on top, legs locked at the crotch. Each held the other at arm’s length by the hair, craning heads back in painful arcs.
“We’re supposed to be drying off!” Amy grunted, giving a savage yank.
“Then get the fuck off me, slut!” Sammy growled, ripping back just as hard.
“You let go of my hair!”
To Amy’s surprise, Sammy did release her grip—only to seize a different target. Sammy grasped Amy’s breasts dangling above her, digging her nails deep. Amy shrieked in agony as Sammy squeezed the tender flesh.
Snarling, Amy abandoned Sammy’s hair and retaliated in kind, clawing at her opponent’s chest. Sammy winced, but refused to let go. The pair squeezed, tugged, and raked each other’s tender flesh, tears pricking at the corners of their eyes as pain surged through them both.
Amy couldn’t take it anymore. Planting her palms flat against Sammy’s breasts, she shoved hard, using them as a springboard to fling herself backwards. She landed on her back, but their crotches remained locked together, legs scissoring tightly.
Sammy smirked. “Tits not up to the challenge, bitch?”
Amy glared. “They’re up to any challenge! You just had an advantage. Mine were hanging down, easy for you to grab. Yours were flat against your chest.”
“Hey, not my fault you’ve got saggy tits.”
Amy snarled and lashed out with her foot, smacking Sammy across the face.
“Fuck you!” Sammy roared, retaliating with a vicious kick of her own.
The fight turned into a brutal exchange of bare feet, soles striking faces, shoulders, and breasts. Amy caught Sammy’s other foot in both hands, squeezing and clawing at it. She yelped as her own spare foot was seized in return, nails raking across tender skin.
Their constant writhing and kicking caused their bodies to twist and grind against each other. Amy felt a hot, undeniable tingle in her loins as their crotches pressed together. Panic flickered—what if Sammy noticed? She was glad they were both already wet.
The kicks slowed, hands slipping free of each other’s feet as their focus shifted entirely to the battle raging between their legs. They thrust harder, grinding their pussies together with furious determination. Amy was certain Sammy felt even wetter than when they’d started. She knew she did too.
Moans began to rise, replacing the grunts and growls of combat. Their eyes stayed locked, blazing with hatred, fury, and pleasure all at once. The sounds coming from their throats grew louder, sharper, more frequent as their scissoring built to a fever pitch. Amy’s body screamed with pleasure, but she clenched her jaw—she would not be the first to cum, she would not give Sammy that victory. From the look on her rival’s face, Sammy was thinking the exact same thing.
Their cries climbed higher and higher, legs lifting from the bed, backs arching in sheer ecstasy as their feral contest reached a white-hot crescendo and then…
SLAMThe bathroom door burst open, spitting out two women. Lexi and Aisha tumbled across the floor in a tangled heap, both naked and dripping, even wetter than the pair fighting on the bed. Arms locked around one another, they clawed and grappled—apparently, sharing a bathroom had been too much temptation. The hiss of the forgotten shower still echoed from within.
The women on the floor lifted their heads, eyes locking with those on the bed. Amy froze, realising instantly how it must look: she and Sammy, naked, legs entwined, scissoring on the sheets. To an outsider, it must have seemed they’d waited for privacy just to fuck each other. The thought wasn’t far from the truth—after all, they had both climaxed—but with the interruption, neither had been able to tell who came first.
Amy’s gaze flicked between Sammy and the pair sprawled on the carpet. Irritation burned in Lexi’s and Aisha’s faces, a resentment at not being invited into whatever had happened on the bed. Amy felt a stab of her own envy, a gnawing frustration that she and Sammy hadn’t been part of whatever battle had raged behind the bathroom door. She knew she had no right to feel it, but the sensation wouldn’t leave her.
Slowly, with lingering reluctance, all four women disentangled themselves from their respective flesh-piles and rose to their feet. They drifted towards the centre of the room, until they formed a tight, dangerous circle. Aisha to Amy’s right, Sammy to her left, Lexi directly opposite—four dripping, naked bodies thrumming with tension.
No one spoke. No one needed to. Words would have been pointless. They’d agreed not to fight again until they had showered and eaten. That restraint had proved impossible.
Strangely, Amy realised her hunger for food had evaporated completely. But another hunger lingered, hotter and more urgent than ever.
And as she looked into the eyes of her three rivals, Amy knew with certainty: none of them would be leaving this room anytime soon.
Final part coming soon...
Tried to fit the story into twenty chapters, but couldn't quite make it work. So, surprise! There's one more big finale chapter coming to finish things off!
Also, this is my first attempt at writing a sexfight, albeit a short one! Hope I did alright
. Constructive criticism is welcome, although I'm also happy to receive praise and adulation.
