Backwoods fist fight between BustyBrawlerBethany and Brittany Busty

[BrittanyBusty]

The heel of her boot is still in my shin from the backward drive, and that leg is hot under the skin. Her shoulder shoved up into my chest and made the space she wanted under the arm I had on her neck. The nails in the back of my thigh dragged and burned when she pulled. She wrapped the matted ends of my hair around her fist and yanked me sideways toward the stream, and the half-roll put her on her knees while I was still coming off the ground. The open hand caught the side of my chest. The upward rake, hip to ribs, is a hot line the opposite way of the ones I have been leaving on her. She got my bootlaces, yanked one loose, and twisted the tongue so the foot inside is fighting the shoe with every step. The surge from her crouch put her shoulder in my midsection and drove me two steps to the water. Cold hit my calves. She hooked an arm under mine, lifted and turned, and put my shoulder into the bank from the side. She yanked my head toward her hip and the knee came up into my body from the front. Both hands on my shoulders shoved me chest-first toward the half-buried root. She held me there with the hair and the punches landed: back of the shoulder, side under the arm, lower into the hip. The last knee drove into my side and sat there. My nose is still bleeding. It is not broken. It is just running. I am cut, clawed, one boot loose, and she is slower than she was. I can feel it in the way the knee took a beat to arrive. I am done giving her the crouch and the bank.

I rip the loose boot the rest of the way open with one hand and kick it off so the bare foot can set in the mud. I do not go back to the neck. I slap the fist out of my hair with my forearm, hard, and I immediately take her platinum with both hands, high at the roots this time, and I wrench her head back and up so her throat is open to the trees. I walk her backward, three hard steps, away from the root and into the clearer leaves, using the hair like a handle. She is heavier to move than she was an hour ago. I use that. I stop her with a short shove and I swing a right hand, not the bag-hand loop, a tighter one, into the hinge of her jaw on the side the eye is already shut. Blood sprays off her lip when it lands. I hit the same hinge again. Then I drop my level and I punch upward into the soft underside of her chest, twice, mean and lifting, so the impact jolts through her and more blood runs from her nose down over her mouth.
I let one hand go from the hair only to grab her by the throat, not squeezing the air all the way off, just controlling, and I force her down to her knees in the leaves. I keep her there. From the standing position I fire a knee up into her chest, once, and the blood that was already running hits my leg. I switch hands in the hair, crank her head to the side, and I punch the ear she can still hear out of, three times, short, until blood is coming from the ear and the mouth both. I haul her up halfway by the roots, not clean, just enough that she is bent, and I drive her face-first into my rising knee. The nose that was already pouring opens more across the kneecap. Red sheets down her chest. I do not let her fall all the way. I hold the hair, I turn her, and I slam her back against the nearest tree, the one we used at the start, and I pin her there with my forearm across her upper chest while I work the body with the other hand: gut, gut, the side under the ribs, gut again. Each one makes more blood bubble at her lip. My bare foot is planted. The remaining boot is planted. I keep her on that tree. I am not done. I draw the right hand back, look at the shut eye and the pouring nose and the split mouth, and I crack her flush on the cheek that is still open, hard enough that her head bounces off the bark, and I hold her up so I can hit the same cheek again. Yt

[BustyBrawlerBethany]

The tighter right is still in the hinge of my jaw on the shut-eye side, and the second one on the same hinge made blood spray off my lip. The two upward punches into the underside of my chest jolted through me and sent more blood running from my nose down over my mouth. She got the throat, not all the way closed, just enough to force me, and she put me on my knees in the leaves. The knee came up into my chest and the blood that was already pouring hit her leg and came back on me. She switched hands in my hair, cranked my head to the side, and the three short punches to my ear left it ringing and bleeding, blood from the ear and the mouth both. She hauled me up halfway by the roots and drove my face into her rising knee. The nose that was already running opened more across the kneecap. Red sheeted down my chest and kept going. She did not let me fall. She held the hair, turned me, and slammed my back against the tree. Her forearm is across my upper chest, pinning me there. The body work landed: gut, gut, the side under the ribs, gut again. Each one pushed more blood up to my lip. Then the right cracked flush on the cheek that was still open, hard enough that my head bounced off the bark, and she held me up and hit the same cheek again. My good eye is watering so bad I can barely see out of it. The shut one is useless. My mouth is full of blood. My nose will not stop. My ear is hot and wet. My arms feel like they are moving through mud. My legs shook when she stood me against the tree. I am taking the beating. I know it. I am still against the bark and I am still trying.
I get one hand up between her forearm and my chest and I shove at it, weak, just enough to slip my shoulder down and to the side along the tree. Bark scrapes my back raw on the way. I do not have the hair. I do not have the stance. I swing a backfist with the free hand toward the side of her head, and it barely has anything behind it, but I throw it. My other hand finds her bare hip and I dig the nails in and hold on so I do not slide all the way down the trunk. I try to knee. The knee comes up slow and only reaches her thigh. I spit blood so I can breathe and it runs down my chin onto my chest. I duck my head and I drive forward off the tree anyway, shoulder into her midsection, not clean, not hard enough, just moving so I am not pinned to the bark. We stumble two steps into the leaves. I get a handful of her hair, low and slippery with blood and water, and I yank it toward the ground while I drop to a knee myself because my legs will not keep me standing. From the knee I punch up at her body, once, into the gut, and the arm shakes. I claw at her shin with the other hand. I try to pull her down with me. My closed eye is throbbing. Blood is running off my lip in a steady line. I keep the slippery handful of hair. I swing again from the kneeling position, a looping right at her chest that has almost nothing on it, and I hold onto her so she has to deal with me on the ground instead of against the tree. I am not standing back up clean. I am not done clawing. I just cannot make the punches do what they did an hour ago. Yt

[BrittanyBusty]

The shove at my forearm was weak and her shoulder slipped down the tree more than it moved me. The backfist toward the side of my head barely arrived. The nails in my bare hip dug in and held, that part was real, and the knee that only reached my thigh still left a mark. She ducked and drove off the bark with her shoulder in my midsection, not hard enough to fold me, just enough to stumble us two steps into the leaves. She got a low slippery handful of my hair and yanked it toward the ground while she dropped to a knee herself. The punch up into my gut from down there had almost nothing on it. The claw on my shin scratched and slid. She tried to pull me down with her. The looping right at my chest died on the way. She is on a knee in the leaves, one eye shut, nose pouring, ear bleeding, mouth full of blood, holding onto my hair like that is going to keep her in this. It is not. I am done letting her stay at knee level like she still has a say.
I slap the slippery handful out of my hair and I immediately take her by the roots with both hands again, high and tight. I wrench her head back so the shut eye and the pouring nose are pointed at the sky. I do not knee this time. I punch straight down into the open cheek, the one I already bounced off the bark, and blood jumps off it. I hit the same cheek again. Then I step around her kneeling body, still holding the hair, and I whip her forward so she has to catch herself on her hands in the mud. I stay on her. I drop one knee between her shoulder blades and I pin her there. With the free hand I punch the back of her head, short and ugly, once, twice, then I grab the hair at the nape and I grind her face down into the wet leaves and hold it. Blood from her nose and mouth smears into the dirt. I let the face up just enough to swing a right into the ear that is already bleeding, and more red runs out of it. I rake my nails across the back of her neck and up into the scalp, then I punch the side of her jaw from above while she is still on her hands.
I haul her up by the hair, not to her feet, just to her knees again, and I step in front of her. I slap her, open hand, across the shut eye, hard enough to turn her head, then I close the fist and I crack the mouth. Blood strings off her lip onto my knuckles. I hit the mouth again. I grab her by the chin and the hair together and I force her head down and I drive a knee up into her chest, then another, and the second one makes a wet sound when it meets the blood already running down her. I shove her backward so she sits hard in the leaves, back against nothing, legs out. I drop over her. One hand pins her wrist to the ground. The other punches: cheek, cheek, the hinge, the mouth. I pause only to wipe my own bloody nose on my forearm so I can see, then I go back to the cheek that is open and I hit it until my knuckles are red to the wrist. She is bloody from the hairline to the chest. The nose is still pouring. The ear is wet. The lip is split wide. I keep the wrist pinned. I keep my weight on her. I draw back one more time and I crack her flush on the jaw, and I stay right there on top of her in the leaves so she does not get the hands or the knees or the tree again. I am not finished. I want her worse. Yt

[BustyBrawlerBethany]

The straight-down punch into the open cheek is still there, and the second one on the same cheek made blood jump off my face. She wrenched my head back by the roots before those landed, shut eye and pouring nose pointed up, and then she stepped around me and whipped me forward so I had to catch myself on my hands in the mud. Her knee dropped between my shoulder blades and pinned me. The two punches to the back of my head left it thick and ringing. She grabbed the hair at the nape and ground my face down into the wet leaves, and the blood from my nose and mouth smeared into the dirt and stayed in my mouth when she let me up. The right into the ear that was already bleeding sent more red out of it. The rake across the back of my neck and up into the scalp burned. The punch to the side of my jaw from above landed while I was still on my hands. She hauled me to my knees, stepped in front, and the open-hand slap across the shut eye turned my head. The fist that followed cracked my mouth. The second one on the mouth strung blood off my lip. She took my chin and my hair together, forced my head down, and the knee into my chest, then the second one, met all the blood already running and made a wet sound I felt more than heard. She shoved me backward. I sat hard in the leaves. She dropped over me. One hand pinned my wrist to the ground. The punches came: cheek, cheek, the hinge, the mouth. She went back to the open cheek and hit it until I could feel how wet her knuckles were. Then she drew back and cracked me flush on the jaw, and she is still on top of me. My good eye is barely a slit. The other is shut. My nose will not stop. My ear is bleeding down my neck. My mouth is full and split wide. Blood is in my hair, on my chest, in the leaves under my head. My arms will not answer right. My legs are just there. I am getting destroyed. I know it. I cannot stop her. I am still trying with what is left.

I get the free hand up and I push at her shoulder. It does almost nothing. She is heavy and I am not moving her. I turn my face to the side in the leaves so the next one does not sit flush, and blood runs out of my mouth into the dirt when I do it. I try to buck. My hips barely leave the ground. The hand she does not have pinned claws at her forearm and the nails drag, weak, no real dig left in them. I spit because I cannot breathe through the blood, and it just runs down my cheek. I reach for her hair and I get a few strands, slippery, and I cannot close the fist around them. My pinned wrist strains against her hand and does not come free. I try to bring a knee up along her side. It touches and stops. The clearing is loud in the ear that still works and gone in the other. I keep the weak claw on her arm. I keep my head turned. I do not have another clean punch in me. I just hold onto the little bit of her I can still reach so I am not only lying here taking it, even though that is exactly what is happening. Yt

[BrittanyBusty]

The push at my shoulder did nothing. I felt it and it did not move me. She turned her face in the leaves and blood ran out of her mouth into the dirt, and that was the only thing that kept the next shot from sitting perfectly flush. The buck barely lifted her hips. The claw on my forearm dragged and died, no dig left in it. The spit just ran down her cheek. She got a few slippery strands of my hair and could not close her hand around them. The knee along my side touched and stopped. She is under me in the leaves, one eye shut, the other a slit, nose pouring, ear bleeding down her neck, mouth split and full, and the only thing she can still do is hold on with nothing behind it. I felt all of it. None of it stopped me. I am not easing off.

I take the weak claw off my forearm and I pin that wrist too, both of her arms down in the mud now. I shift my weight higher on her chest so the huge tits and the scratched skin take more of me, and I punch the open cheek again, the one already wet with blood. It lands and more red jumps. I hit the shut eye, not the lid, the bone around it, short and mean. Then the mouth. Then the mouth again. Blood strings between her lip and my knuckles every time I pull back. I let one wrist go only so I can grab her hair at the roots, wrench her head up out of the leaves, and slam it back down. Once. The mud takes it. I do it again. Then I hold the head up and I slap her, open hand, across the pouring nose, and the blood sprays sideways into the leaves. I close the fist and I crack the hinge of the jaw on the side she can still sort of see from.

I stand up over her. I do not give her the space. I grab the hair with both hands and I drag her, not far, just through the wet leaves toward the edge of the stream, her back scraping, her arms trying and failing to catch the ground. Cold water hits her hair when I get her to the bank. I drop to a knee beside her head. I punch down into the cheek. I punch down into the ear. I take a handful of creek water and I throw it in her face, not to help her, just so the blood runs clearer and I can see the damage, then I hit the mouth again while it is still wet. I hook my arm under her neck from the side and I half-sit her up against my leg, and from there I elbow the side of her head, once, twice, the point of the elbow on the temple and then lower on the jaw. More blood from the ear. More from the lip. I shove her back down flat. I straddle her chest again. Both hands free. I look at her. Shut eye. Slit eye. Nose still running red. Mouth open and wrecked. Chest painted with it. I wind the right hand up, the heavy one, and I bring it down flush on the open cheek, all of me behind it. Her head rocks in the leaves. I hit the same cheek again before it settles. I am not done. I pin one of her wrists under my knee, I take the hair so she cannot turn away, and I draw the next one back for the mouth. She is destroyed and I am still on her. Yt

[BustyBrawlerBethany]

Both wrists were pinned in the mud. Her weight shifted higher on my chest and the punches came down: the open cheek again, blood jumping off it, then the bone around the shut eye, then the mouth, then the mouth again. Blood strung between my lip and her knuckles every time she pulled back. She let one wrist go only to grab my hair at the roots, wrench my head up out of the leaves, and slam it back down. Once. The mud took it. She did it again. Then she held my head up and slapped me across the pouring nose, open hand, and the blood sprayed sideways into the leaves. The fist that followed cracked the hinge of my jaw on the side I can still almost see from. She stood up over me. She took the hair with both hands and dragged me through the wet leaves toward the stream, my back scraping, my arms not catching the ground the way I wanted them to. Cold water hit my hair at the bank. She dropped to a knee beside my head. Punches down into the cheek. Down into the ear. She threw creek water in my face so the blood ran clearer, then hit the mouth again while it was still wet. She hooked an arm under my neck, half-sat me up against her leg, and elbowed the side of my head, once on the temple, once lower on the jaw. More from the ear. More from the lip. She shoved me back down flat. She straddled my chest. The heavy right came down flush on the open cheek, all of her behind it. My head rocked in the leaves. She hit the same cheek again before it settled. She pinned a wrist under her knee. She took the hair so I could not turn away. She is drawn back for the mouth. My face is swollen tight on one side. The eye that was a slit is worse. The nose is still pouring, not broken, just endless. Blood is in my ear, my mouth, my hair, across my chest, in the leaves and the water. My arms are barely mine. My legs have not moved in a while. I am taking the beating. There is not much left that listens to me.

I turn my head a fraction in the hair she is holding. It does not get me clear. Blood runs from the corner of my mouth down my neck when I do it. The free hand lifts an inch off the mud and drops. I cannot find her. I cannot close it. A sound comes out of me that is not a word. My hips do not buck. My knees do not rise. I blink the eye that still opens and the clearing is just leaves and her and red. I leave the hand where it fell. I do not have another claw. I do not have another punch. I am under her at the edge of the water with my wrists down and my face open, and all I can do is lie in what she is doing to me. Yt

[BustyBrawlerBethany]

She turned her head a fraction in the hair I was holding and it did not get her clear of anything. Blood ran from the corner of her mouth down her neck when she did it. The free hand lifted an inch off the mud and dropped. She could not find me. She could not close it. A sound came out of her that was not a word. Her hips did not buck. Her knees did not rise. The eye that still opens blinked and that was all. She left the hand where it fell. There is nothing coming back from her that can stop a punch. I felt how empty that was. I do not ease up.

I keep the hair so she cannot turn the cheek away and I throw the one I had drawn. It lands flush on the mouth. Blood sprays off the split lip onto my wrist and onto her own chest. I hit the mouth again before the first string breaks. Then the open cheek. Then the hinge. I let the hair go only so I can use both hands. I slap her, left then right, open palms across the swollen face, and the blood that was pouring from her nose flies sideways both times. I close the right fist and I crack the cheekbone under the eye that is still a slit. I crack it again. I take the wet hair at the roots, lift her head clear of the leaves, and I slam it down into the mud by the water. Once. I hold it there a second so the cold and the blood mix under her face, then I lift and I slam it again.
I shift off her chest and I grab her by the upper arm and the hair and I roll her onto her side, facing the stream. From there I punch the ear that is already bleeding, three short ones, until more red runs out of it and down the side of her neck. I rake my nails from that ear back across her scalp, hard, then I drive a knee into her back between the shoulder blades while she is on her side. I hook both hands under her arms and I sit her up against the low bank, head lolling, and I hold her there with one hand fisted in the front of her hair. With the other I punch down into her face from above: nose, mouth, cheek, mouth. Each one makes a wet sound. Blood is running off her chin in a steady line onto her chest and into her lap. The eye that could still open is barely doing it. I do not stop. I tilt her head back against the mud by the hair and I throw an uppercut into the underside of her jaw. Her teeth click. I throw another. I let her sag forward and I catch her by the hair so she does not go all the way down, and I hold her up like that, wrecked and pouring, while I look at what is left of her face. Shut eye. Slit eye. Nose still running. Mouth open and red. Ear wet. I am not finished. I tighten the fist in her hair, I draw the heavy right back one more time, and I crack her flush on the open cheek while I am still holding her up so she has to take all of it. She is destroyed and I am still hitting her. Yt

[BrittanyBusty]

She turned her head a fraction in the hair I was holding and it did not get her clear of anything. Blood ran from the corner of her mouth down her neck when she did it. The free hand lifted an inch off the mud and dropped. She could not find me. She could not close it. A sound came out of her that was not a word. Her hips did not buck. Her knees did not rise. The eye that still opens blinked and that was all. She left the hand where it fell. There is nothing coming back from her that can stop a punch. I felt how empty that was. I do not ease up.

I keep the hair so she cannot turn the cheek away and I throw the one I had drawn. It lands flush on the mouth. Blood sprays off the split lip onto my wrist and onto her own chest. I hit the mouth again before the first string breaks. Then the open cheek. Then the hinge. I let the hair go only so I can use both hands. I slap her, left then right, open palms across the swollen face, and the blood that was pouring from her nose flies sideways both times. I close the right fist and I crack the cheekbone under the eye that is still a slit. I crack it again. I take the wet hair at the roots, lift her head clear of the leaves, and I slam it down into the mud by the water. Once. I hold it there a second so the cold and the blood mix under her face, then I lift and I slam it again.
I shift off her chest and I grab her by the upper arm and the hair and I roll her onto her side, facing the stream. From there I punch the ear that is already bleeding, three short ones, until more red runs out of it and down the side of her neck. I rake my nails from that ear back across her scalp, hard, then I drive a knee into her back between the shoulder blades while she is on her side. I hook both hands under her arms and I sit her up against the low bank, head lolling, and I hold her there with one hand fisted in the front of her hair. With the other I punch down into her face from above: nose, mouth, cheek, mouth. Each one makes a wet sound. Blood is running off her chin in a steady line onto her chest and into her lap. The eye that could still open is barely doing it. I do not stop. I tilt her head back against the mud by the hair and I throw an uppercut into the underside of her jaw. Her teeth click. I throw another. I let her sag forward and I catch her by the hair so she does not go all the way down, and I hold her up like that, wrecked and pouring, while I look at what is left of her face. Shut eye. Slit eye. Nose still running. Mouth open and red. Ear wet. I am not finished. I tighten the fist in her hair, I draw the heavy right back one more time, and I crack her flush on the open cheek while I am still holding her up so she has to take all of it. She is destroyed and I am still hitting her. Yt

[BustyBrawlerBethany]

The punch she had drawn landed flush on my mouth and blood sprayed off the split onto her wrist and my chest. She hit the mouth again before the string broke. Open cheek. Hinge. She used both hands after that. Left slap, right slap, open palms across the swollen face, blood from my nose flying sideways both times. The closed fist cracked the cheek under the eye that is still only a slit. She cracked it again. She took the wet hair, lifted my head, and slammed it into the mud by the water. Once. She held it there. She lifted and slammed it again. She rolled me onto my side facing the stream and punched the bleeding ear three times until more red ran down my neck. The rake from that ear across my scalp burned. The knee drove into my back between the shoulder blades. She hooked under my arms and sat me up against the low bank, head heavy, and punched down from above: nose, mouth, cheek, mouth. Each one wet. She tilted my head back by the hair and threw an uppercut into the underside of my jaw. My teeth clicked. She threw another. She let me sag and caught me by the hair so I stayed up, and then the heavy right cracked flush on the open cheek while she was still holding me. I am destroyed. One eye is shut. The other is a watering slit. Nose pouring, not broken, just endless. Ear bleeding. Mouth split and full. Face swollen tight. Chest and hair and the bank under me are red. My arms are slow. My legs are shaking. I can barely hold my own head. And she is right there in front of me, holding the hair, close, weight forward, admiring it.

I get the hand she is not controlling and I put everything I have left into one punch. Not a swing from the ground. A short, tight, upward right from where I am sagging against the bank, hip and shoulder and what is left of my back all in it, aimed at the point of her chin while she is leaned in holding me. It lands. Flush. I feel it go through my knuckles and into her jaw, and her grip on my hair jerks. That is the first clean thing I have landed in a long time. I do not wait to see what it does. I rip my head forward out of the loosened fist, pain screaming through my scalp, and I surge up off the bank on legs that do not want to hold me. I make them. I get both hands on her shoulders and I shove her backward, hard, two steps into the leaves, using the stagger I just bought. My shut eye stays shut. The slit one tracks her. I am bloody from the hairline down. I am slow. I am still coming.

I step in behind the shove and I throw the left, the one that still half works, into her body under the chest. It lands. I throw the right again, not as clean, into the side of her face. It lands. I grab a handful of her blonde, slippery, and I yank her head down toward my knee even though the knee is heavy and slow, and I drive it up into her midsection. Once. I stay on my feet. Barely. I claw across her chest with the free hand, nails digging, and I hold the hair so she cannot just walk out of range. Blood is running off my chin onto her. My breathing is ragged and loud. I am not the one who was pinning her a minute ago. I am the one who just punched her in the mouth hard enough to buy this, and I am using it. I draw the right back again, slower than I want, and I throw it at her cheek while I still have the hair. I am rallying. I am not finished. I am still in this clearing and I am hitting her back. Yt

[BrittanyBusty]

The short upward right caught me flush on the point of the chin while I was leaned in holding her hair. It went through. My head snapped. The grip I had jerked and loosened on its own. For a second the clearing tilted and my legs went soft under me. That is the first clean thing she has landed since I started taking her apart, and it staggered me. She ripped her head forward out of my fist, scalp and all, and the pain yanked me the rest of the way off balance. Then she surged up off the bank. Both hands hit my shoulders and she shoved me backward, hard, two steps into the leaves. I was still seeing white at the edges from the chin shot. She stepped in behind it. The left landed in my body under the chest and folded a little air out of me. The right caught the side of my face, not as clean, still heavy enough to turn my head. She got a slippery handful of my blonde and yanked me down toward her knee, and the knee drove up into my midsection. Once. It sat. She clawed across my chest, nails digging into the scratches already there, and she held the hair so I could not just step out. Blood from her chin hit my skin. She drew back and threw the right at my cheek while she still had me. It landed. My nose is bleeding fresh from the face shots. It is not broken. It is just running again. My jaw is hot where the chin punch sat. My gut is tight from the knee. I was the one destroying her a minute ago. Now I am the one who just ate a stagger and she is the one with hands on me.

I slap at the fist in my hair with my forearm and I drive my own shoulder forward into her chest to make the space the shove took from me. The chin is still ringing. I do not wait for it to clear. I get one hand on her wrist, the one clawing my chest, and I yank it down and across while I step offline so the next right she wants does not sit on the same cheek. My other hand finds her platinum, low and bloody, and I pull her head toward the outside of my hip instead of letting her keep me bent. I am not clean. My legs are still soft from the stagger. I use them anyway. I fire a short elbow back toward her face while I have the angle, then I turn into her and I punch the body she left open when she surged, once in the gut, once higher under the chest she just clawed. I keep the handful of hair. I am not letting her have the free reign she just bought. I shove her shoulder with my free hand, hard, toward the bank we just left, and I stay glued to her so the stagger does not turn into her beating on me clean. My mouth is bloody. My vision is still narrowed. I draw the right back, the heavy one, and I throw it at the side of her head while I still have the hair and the angle. She caught me. She staggered me. I am still here and I am still swinging. Yt

[BustyBrawlerBethany]

Her forearm slapped the fist out of my hair and her shoulder drove forward into my chest, taking back some of the space I had just shoved into. The chin punch I landed on her is still the reason she is not clean, but she got a hand on the wrist that was clawing her and yanked it down and across. She stepped offline so the right I wanted did not sit where I aimed it. Her other hand found my platinum, low and bloody, and pulled my head toward the outside of her hip. The short elbow came back toward my face and clipped the swollen cheek. She turned into me and punched the body I left open, once in the gut, once higher under the chest. She kept the handful of hair. She shoved my shoulder hard toward the bank. She stayed glued to me. Then the heavy right came at the side of my head while she still had the angle and the hair. It landed. My ear rang again. Fresh blood ran from the cut on my cheek. My nose is still pouring. My gut took both of those body shots and they sat on top of everything else. I am wrecked. One eye is shut. The other is a slit. My legs are shaking. She is trying to fend me off and glue herself to me so I cannot keep the free run I bought with that chin punch. I felt all of it. I am not giving the comeback back.

I rip my head against the pull toward her hip and I drive my forehead forward into the side of her face, not a full headbutt, just enough to jar the grip and the angle she wants. Blood from my nose smears her. I get my free hand, the one she yanked down, back up and I claw across her eyes and the bridge of her nose, nails digging, forcing her to deal with that instead of the hair. I do not let her stay glued. I step my back foot out, plant the boot that still has a lace, and I shove her chest with both hands, hard, creating the step of space the shoulder drive took from me. My arms are heavy. I shove anyway. She staggers off the contact more than she wants to. I use it.

I step in on the side she left open and I throw the left hook into her body, lower than the last one, right at the belt line that is not there anymore. It lands. I follow with the right, the same short upward path that caught her chin before, this time at the cheek she just turned toward me. It lands. Blood comes off her lip. I grab a fresh handful of blonde higher up, near the scalp, and I yank her head down and to the side while I fire a knee up into her ribs from the front. Once. The knee is slow and it still gets there. I hold the hair. I am bloody and half blind and my punches are not what they were an hour ago, but they are landing and she is the one who has to fend them now. I rake the free hand down her chest, nails deep, and I keep the hair so she cannot just circle out. I draw the right back again. I am still coming. The comeback is not a moment. I am beating on her with what I have left. Yt

[BustyBrawlerBethany]

Lets go cxnt!!

[BrittanyBusty]

Her forehead drove into the side of my face and jarred the grip I had. Blood from her nose smeared across my cheek. The claw across my eyes and the bridge of my nose dug in and forced me to deal with that instead of the hair. She stepped her back foot out and shoved my chest with both hands, hard, and I staggered off it more than I wanted. The left hook landed in my body at the belt line and sat. The right, that same short upward path, caught the cheek I had turned toward her and blood came off my lip. She grabbed a fresh handful of blonde near the scalp and yanked my head down and to the side while the knee came up into my ribs from the front. Slow, but it got there. The rake down my chest dug deep. She kept the hair. My nose is bleeding again. My jaw is still hot from the chin punch that started her comeback. My ribs are tight from the knees and the hooks. My arms are heavy. My legs are soft. She has been beating on me with what she has left and I have been eating it. I am as battered as she is now. I am as exhausted. I am done just fending.
I rip my head against the yank and I drive my own forehead forward into hers, hard enough to break the angle and the hair pull at the same time. Blood smears both of us. I get both hands on the wrist that has my hair and I twist and yank until the grip breaks, then I immediately take her platinum at the roots with one hand and her shoulder with the other. I do not shove her away. I pull her into me and I punch the body, short and mean, three times into the gut she has been leaving open, each one heavier than the last even though my shoulder burns. She is exhausted. I can feel it in how the punches land and how she does not slip them. I am exhausted too. I use it.
I step to the side she clawed from and I throw the right hand, not the big looping one, a tighter one into the cheek under the eye that is still shut on her. It lands. Blood runs fresh. I follow with the left into the hinge of her jaw. I keep the hair. I am not clean and neither is she. I hook my free arm under hers and I turn us both toward the stream, boots sliding in the wet leaves, and I drive a knee up into her thigh, once, then I punch the chest while we are still tied up. My breathing is as loud as hers. My vision is narrowed. My knuckles are split and red. I let the clinch go only long enough to crack her with another right on the open side of her face, then I grab the hair again and I hold her there so she has to keep trading with me. We are both poured out. We are both still swinging. I draw the next one back for her body and I throw it. The fight is even. I am not letting her have it alone. Yt

[BrittanyBusty]

"Lets FINISH THIS BITCH!!"

[Nicola T]

Wow this is such a close fight. Incredible ladies

[Nicola T]