Fight of the Soccer Moms 1

[Normbadprof]

I wrote this story about a dozen years ago, but I deleted my profile and the story came down with it.  I've had some requests to repost it and a few others, so here it is.  I tried to write from the point of view of one of the fighters, a wife an mom who is fascinated and aroused by the idea of fighting another woman.  If any women read this, I'd love to hear if you think her voice is at all realistic (and of course, if the story aroused you    


I am a 32-year-old wife and mother of two girls, aged 7 and 3, who has not worked outside the home since I got married nine years ago, just after college. My husband is an engineer with a large firm in our Northeastern city, and makes a good income. I studied psychology in college, but never worked after we married. My husband takes a lot of pride in his traditional role as breadwinner, and in my appearance and role as a wife and homemaker. Without blowing my own horn too much, I'm considered to be quite attractive. I'm a 5'5" tall brunette with thick shoulder-length hair, weigh 120 lbs, and measure 36-28-35. I have large breasts (D-cup) that I consider to be a bit too pendulous, but that my husband adores (can't keep his hands or mouth off of them), and that seem to attract a lot of attention from other men, and some envy from women.

I'm very family oriented now, but was a bit of a wild child before I met my husband, and partied hard for a couple of years in my teens and early twenties. During this time, I hooked up with a lot of guys, got drunk quite a bit, and got into a couple of fights with other girls. I found fighting to be a tremendous rush, and easily beat the three girls I tangled with. One fight occurred spontaneously at a party, when a girl I'd never met before jumped me because I was talking to her boyfriend (I didn't know he was her boyfriend). I recovered from her initial attack and eventually wound up sitting on her chest and punching her in the face before I was pulled off her. The other occurred when a girl from my high school was spreading rumors about me in senior year. I called her out and we agreed to fight after school in a park, in a secluded spot often used for fights. Word got out and there must have been 100 kids watching- her friends, mine, and a bunch of guys hoping we'd tear each other's tops off, which we actually did during the course of the fight, which lasted about 20 minutes. This time, no one interfered; on the contrary, they cheered us on and encouraged us. I found it a huge rush to fight in front of a big crowd. I won that one because once we had torn off each other's tops and bras, she got modest and tried to cover her boobs, while I just went crazy on her and didn't care what anyone saw. I was able to punch her in the face, stomach, and breasts without her hitting me back, until she ran away sobbing and my friends surrounded me and raised my arms in victory, even before I put my blouse back on. I was thrilled to have beaten her up and made her cry; it was really one of the crowning achievements of my senior year- well worth the black eye and scratched breast I got. My last fight took place in a bar in the town where I went to college, where I got in an argument with another girl over a guy we were both interested in. We were both pretty drunk and wound up rolling on the dance floor, legs entwined and pulling hair. It was quite a show, since we were both wearing miniskirts that were soon up around our waists! The bouncers let us fight for about three minutes, until I got firmly seated on her chest and started punching her in the face, at which point they pulled me off her and threw us out of the bar. I challenged her to continue in the parking lot but she left quickly with her friends, and I wound up leaving with the guy, who became my husband. Sometimes, when people ask how we met, I say I won him in a fight!

I've come to realize that watching women fight really turns my husband and a lot of other men on. I started searching the internet and found lots of sites that showed videos of women fighting. One company in particular intrigued me. In these films, two women, not trained fighters but often women who clearly had been in a few fights, would fight in a room, no holds barred, until one gave up. They were allowed to kick, punch, pull hair, do anything except bite or gouge eyes (but didn't always obey these rules). Many of the fights were topless, or ended that way after the fighters ripped off flimsy blouses. The women sometimes just appeared to be going through the motions, but more often fought brutally and viciously, swearing at and insulting each other as they fought and trying to hurt each other as much as possible. Some of the most brutal fights appeared to be between women settling personal disputes. Usually, the fights ended with one woman giving up after becoming exhausted and being thoroughly beaten. Occasionally, the winner continued beating the loser in her rage and excitement and had to be pulled off her by a cameraman- there was no referee. The women were very tough. The losers occasionally were left crying on the ground but usually just sat silent and exhausted, or in a couple of cases were knocked out. The fights were watched only by the cameramen and a few other women who appeared also to be fighters participating in a filming session, who sometimes cheered the women and advised them on tactics.

I watched all of the fights I could find and became increasingly fascinated with the idea of participating in one. I don't take any kind of martial arts training but I keep fit and from what I could see from the videos, fights were often lost because one woman simply didn't have the strength and wind to keep going. I knew I could fight a normal, non-expert women my size, and I thought my fitness would give me an edge. I told my husband I wanted to try it, and showed him the videos. Although he was clearly excited by them, he at first absolutely forbade me to contact the producers, out of fear that I'd get seriously hurt. I pointed out to him that none of the videos seemed to end with a woman getting badly hurt, and that I thought I could give a pretty good account of myself, judging from past experience. I also told him to imagine me on top of another woman, both of us topless, with her sobbing as I pulled her hair and punched her face and boobs. His resistance melted and the conversation ended! We didn't even make it to the bedroom; we were discussing this in the kitchen and he had to have me right there on the floor!

I emailed the company, telling them about my interest in fighting, and sending them a photo of myself in a bikini. They responded quickly, and we got in touch by phone. The manager told me that he had a woman my size to fight me, and she'd never fought before either for the company. She was not their usual sort of fighter, but another housewife, a blonde about an inch taller than me and with distinctly smaller breasts but about the same weight, who was married to a stockbroker. He e-mailed me a photo of a long-haired, beautiful, slender woman in a short dark skirt, white blouse, and spike heels with her fists raised. She looked like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth and I couldn't wait to get my hands on her and erase that smug look on her face. He was going to bill it as "The Battle of the Soccer Moms." He said she was willing to fight topless, and I eagerly agreed. We set a date for the fight during their next filming session, about a month away. He said he knew that we weren't really in it for the money, but he would pay each of us $500 and another $2000 to the winner. I insisted that my husband be allowed to attend. He said they preferred that husbands and boyfriends not be there, but if he promised not to interfere, he could come.

Over the next month I worked out a lot, running and lifting weights, and I took some mixed martial arts classes that gave me some basic ideas about fighting other than my tendency just to go crazy on my opponent, but I didn't get too far in the four lessons I took. I didn't think my opponent looked like a real brawler, and the organizers assured me that she wasn't a highly trained martial artist, but like me was just a wife and mom who had won a few scraps in her younger days and wanted to see if she still had her chops, and who found the idea of fighting topless in front of her husband hot. The organizer said she told him I looked like a big-titted cow and that she was looking forward to beating the crap out of me. I told him to tell her that she was a dumb blonde slut and that she'd be bald and crying when I was finished with her.

Finally, the weekend of the fight rolled around and my husband and I left the girls with my mother, saying we were going to the city for a grown-up weekend, which didn't quite describe it! We drove about two hours to the city where the studio was located and rented a hotel room, where I proceeded to attack my husband. We had sex three times over the course of the evening, until we fell asleep happy and exhausted. In the morning, I jumped him again but he refused to do me, telling me to save my strength for the fight and not to underestimate the woman, who for all we knew might have a black belt in karate. So we slept in, and then I got a massage. In the early afternoon, I called the promoter, who said they were ready and that my opponent was on her way. He said that the taping would begin with an interview with us in the same room, in street clothes, in which we'd be asked about our fighting experience, our opinion of each other, and our plans for the fight.

Now I was getting nervous, and a bit afraid! It was possible that I'd get seriously hurt. No one would stop this fight unless I asked for it to be stopped, and I knew myself well enough that that was unlikely once the adrenaline got going. I could easily lose teeth or get a broken nose, and might emerge disfigured for life. I took a deep breath and resolved that if that happened, it would be to her, not me. I visualized my opponent lying unconscious on the floor, with me standing triumphantly over her, or sitting on her and punching her while she lay there crying.

We arrived at the address we'd been given, which was a private house in a suburban neighborhood. It was strange to think that in another hour, I'd be naked at least to the waist, fighting viciously with a woman behind one of these doors, while men mowed their lawns and kids rode their bikes nearby. We drove to the address we'd been given, parked in the driveway, and rang the bell. We were met by a couple in their fifties, who were the man I'd spoken to and his wife, the owners of the production company. They invited us in and offered us drinks while we read and signed release forms. I had two quick glasses of wine to calm my nerves. We went over the rules again: we'd fight topless, and no holds were barred except eye gouging and biting (but I'd seen women bite each other on the videos, so wasn't sure how well this rule was enforced). The fight would continue until one fighter gave up or was unable to defend herself. My husband had to sign a form saying he would not interefere with the fight under any circumstances.

We were then led into the basement, where an interview was to be taped. There, I saw my opponent for the first time, sitting on a couch in a very short leather skirt, black nylons, black heels about 3" high, a demure white silk blouse, and a string of pearls, her legs crossed tightly and hands folded in her lap. Her bare arms and legs were firm but not muscular. She smirked at me as we appraised each other, but as she bounced one leg on top of the other constantly, I realized she was at least as nervous as I was. Was she afraid of me? I was asked to sit beside her on the other side of the couch. I was wearing a black miniskirt, bare legs, sandals, and a light blue, tight-fitting blouse that accentuated my breasts, which were clearly bigger than hers. They started filming, and asked her about her fighting experience. She recounted a couple of schoolyard fights she'd won, but only one fight as an adult at a disco during college, when she beat up a girl who hit on her boyfriend. When asked what she thought of me, she repeated the big-titted cow remark, called me a whore, and said she'd have me crying at her feet in about 3 minutes. She stared straight at me while she said this, and I made a move to slap her but the woman impresario quickly grabbed my arm- she was stronger than she looked. She said "Hold you fire, honey, you can have at her to your heart's delight in a minute." They asked me the same question and I said my plan was to make her cry, re-arrange her ugly face so her brats wouldn't recognize her, pull her hair out, and knock her out.

The woman, whose name was Anne and who was acting as the MC for the taping, said, "Well, it sounds like you ladies are anxious to get down to business. Mary," she said to my opponent, "Why don't you go into the bedroom on the right and get undressed. Roberta, please use the bedroom on the left."

We went into the appointed bedrooms with our husbands. I took off my blouse, bra, and skirt, leaving on a pair of black lace panties. I hugged and kissed him for good luck, then went back into the main room. Mary entered at the same time. We were both flushed and breathing quickly. I was somewhat self-conscious- this was the first time I had been topless in front of men other than my husband since my high school fight. Mary was wearing white lace panties. We stood there awkwardly, while the female proprietor ran through the rules with us. She said "Ladies, you will fight until one of you gives up or can no longer defend herself. No holds are barred except biting and eye gouging. You may punch, kick, knee, elbow, pull hair, and choke your opponent. You may attack any part of her body. Do you understand? " We nodded our assent. "Then fight!"

Finally, it was on. We flew at each other and immediately started punching and kicking. She was very aggressive, swinging at my head and punching my breasts and stomach. I stood my ground and grabbed her hair, yanking her forward and kneeing her in the stomach. She doubled over, winded, and I punched her in the face and breasts with big uppercuts. I felt terrific as I hit her and yanked her hair, feeling that I'd finish her off in a few moments, a feeling that was solidified when I saw that she was crying! But, sobbing away, she gathered her strength and charged into me, driving me backwards. I lost my balance and fell with her on top of me. She tried to plant herself on my chest but I bucked her off, and we wound up in a confusing and frantic fight on the floor, wrestling, kicking, and clawing as we struggled for the upper position. She fought like a wildcat, recovered from the blow to her stomach, although I was glad to see that I had given her a fat lip and a cut eyebrow while I pummeled her while she was bent over. But soon she managed to get on top of me and fire off a hard punch to my right eye. I too burst into tears and felt my eye closing up. We both cried for the rest of the fight, but the tears were as much from rage as pain, and neither of us backed away from the fight until the end, our only desire to hurt the other woman as much as possible. We rolled over each other, pulling hair, punching, clawing, and kneeing, but neither could get a decisive advantage. This continued for about 10 minutes as our husbands shouted advice and encouragement, during which time we each clawed at the other's crotch, ripping off our panties and scoring our labia in the dirtiest fighting I could imagine. Finally, while on my knees, I was able to get her head in a scissors, squeezing her as hard as I could between my thighs while I pulled her hair. She flailed at me with her free arm but wasn't at the right angle to get any power into her blows. For a second time I thought I was on the point of winning, but then I felt a sharp pain in my upper thigh.
"Fuck! The cxnt bit me!" I screamed, rolling away from her and leaping to my feet, clutching my thigh. She hadn't broken the skin but there was a clear bite mark that was already bruising. She lay on the floor, gasping, then slowly got to her knees.

Anne said "She certainly bit you! We can disqualify her and give you the win, or you can punish her yourself."

By way of response, I charged the blonde bitch as she tried to get to her feet, kicking her in the breasts and knocking her back on her ass. I then yanked her up by the hair and kneed her in the face! Her nose started to bleed and she fell to her knees screaming that she quit. I kicked her again, this time in the stomach, but Anne pulled me away from her and held me back. I struggled to get away and attack Mary as she lay sobbing on the floor, but my husband rushed to me and hugged me and Anne raised my hand in the air in victory. I had completely dominated the blonde bitch! It was pretty clear I had broken or nearly broken her nose. Her husband comforted her as she lay crying, and I collapsed in my husband's arms, crying too with joy and relief. He was hard as a rock, and wet! He told me later that he came watching the fight, but that didn't slow him down much. We went into the bedroom so I could dress, but despite my bruises and scratched pussy, I couldn't resist climbing onto him, sweaty and bloody as I was. We fucked like animals; I'm sure they heard us outside! After half an hour, we came out and Mary was gone. Anne handed me an envelope full of cash- best money I ever made! My husband told me he made another $1000 betting on me against the blonde bitch! I bought a dress, shoes, and lingerie, and every time I wear them, I think of Mary and smile!

[bbb1]

Great story.

[Dan Zone43]

I remember this story from before.   It's still a great fight!   Any chance for more?

[Horny-Jew]

Great story. I prefer the women wear clothing that can be ripped off (T-shirt, blouse, shirt, dress, etc,...) with no bra and of course, barefoot.

[SDSfemfan]

One of my favorites! Glad you reposted it. Would love to see the blonde ask for a rematch two months later and the brunette beats her up, after a good and competitive fight, worse in their basement, making her cry.

[SDSfemfan]