#COLLECTION: Cuckold by an FBB

[Dona Fell Friz]

A brutal saga of power, lesbians and incest. All credit to the OP!

VICIOUS SISTERS
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A husband learns his wife's loyalties lie elsewhere.   
_______________________

I.

About a year into my quiet, comfortable marriage, my wife told me that she was
going to have lunch with her older sister.

"Really, Lily? The sister you haven't spoken with in a decade?"

My wife, Lily, was youthful, slender, and dazzlingly beautiful. She had
piercing blue eyes and jet black hair which she wore long and straight,
sometimes bound in a ponytail. At twenty-seven, she was sixteen years younger
than me, and in many ways, more vivacious; I suspect she was comforted by
having an emotionally steady, financially dependable doctor for a husband, but
occasionally her youth was reflected in - how can I put it politely - dubious
judgment.

"Well, she's passing through town. She says she's sober now, and wants to make
things right. I'm going to give her a chance. I'm meeting her tomorrow."

"I have a bad feeling about it, sweetie," I admitted to her. "But I would
never question your intuitions. I just hope this doesn't bring up too many
unpleasant memories."

Their estrangement was something of a mystery to me. I knew that her sister
had a drug and/or alcohol problem, and I knew that there was some particularly
awful offence that had forced my wife to conclude that no contact at all was
possible with her sibling. She had cut her off completely, with no exceptions,
for almost ten years.

The next day she told me she was very pleased with the meeting, and told me
they had plans to meet again soon. I thought it might be a good time to
satisfy my curiosity.

"What was it that originally alienated you from her?"

Lily sighed. "Well," she said, "I'm not sure if I told you this, but remember
the guy I was engaged to before, right out of high school?"

"What was his name, Tom, or something?" I tried to sound only half-interested.

"Right, Tommy. Well, my sister didn't approve of him, and he knew it. They
hated each other. When Jill and I were still living together, she'd make a
point of being there, in the house, whenever he was coming over. And she'd
harass him. It was just good-natured teasing at first, but he wasn't going to
be pestered like that, so he teased her back. Eventually it escalated, and
they became bitter enemies, with me stuck in the middle. I hated it. But
anyway, one night it came to blows."

"Blows?" I was amazed. "You mean, the two of them fought each other?"

"Yeah. And she beat the crap out of him."

"Seriously?"

She nodded. "He had to spend a week in the hospital, and had multiple broken
bones. And, what's worse, she basically made it so that he could never have
kids."

"Holy Christ," I muttered.

"And that ended our relationship. He didn't feel safe with me, and you know .
. . I felt like he wasn't a man anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"The surgery didn't restore him. He was a eunuch. And at that point in my
life, I really wanted a man, and perhaps kids."

"Couldn't you adopt, or use a sperm donor?"

"Well, sure, but he also lost his ability to get a worthwhile erection, you
know? Maybe it was because he could never feel comfortable with me again, but
I need a man in bed, you know? Well," she winked "I think you do know. And he
just couldn't cut it. And I found his injury too off-putting, too ugly, so we
just weren't compatible anymore."

"That's horrible for him."

"Yeah, and for me, too. I really enjoyed him. He was a huge stud before the
incident; he could cum three times in one night, and I really planned to marry
him. I lost the greatest man I knew."

That evening, Lily and I made love. While we were in missionary position, I
asked her, "Do you miss Tommy?"

"Hm?"

"You said he was a real stud."

"He was great."

"Do you still miss him?"

"You mean do you measure up to him?"

"Yeah," I thrust into her hard, as deep as I could.

"Oh, hon. You've got a small cock." She reached down and cupped my balls in
her hand. "You have big balls, but your cock is an appetizer. Tommy was hung
like a horse, and had limitless libido. You don't have his youthful vigor."

I looked away from her, and felt dispirited. I tried to fuck her to climax,
but my desire evaporated, and my penis liquified, and fell out of her vagina.

"Oh, Jesus. You're not going limp on me, are you?" My wife already knew the
answer. She caught the tip of my deflating penis in her fingers, and with her
nails pressing into it, yanked my cock towards her several times. It neither
stiffened nor tightened, so she dropped it.

Using the same hand, she then pushed my left leg towards the wall, spreading
my legs, then maneuvered herself above me. "Come on, balls," she demanded,
then gently but firmly drove her knee into my groin. With a low grunt I jolted
forward. She didn't mean it to be a punishing blow, but it certainly woke me
up.

"Lily, Jesus, don't hurt my testicles," I whispered, my protective hands
falling over my groin.

"I'm not satisfied, hon," my wife explained. "I can't live like this."

"That doesn't mean you can hurt me."

"It'll get you aroused. Look," my wife pulled my hands away, and grabbed my
cock. It appeared she had a point; my cock was stiffer than before.

"You just need additional incentive." And with that, she repeated her brutish
seduction technique: Positioning her knee inches from my genitals, looking
down at me eye-to-eye, my wife slammed her knee into my balls dead-on, and
more forcefully this time. I yelped like a swatted puppy, contorted, and
gasped for air. My wife pinned my arms down, and finding my cock adequately
solid now, she laughed mirthfully, then mounted me.

"Guess I need to remind you how to be a man," my wife observed, fucking me.

II.

After that Lily was often very forward in asserting her libido.

One evening Lily walked up behind me while I was brushing my teeth at the
bathroom mirror. I was wearing tight white briefs which showed the outline of
my low-hanging balls and the little button of my flaccid cock. Thrusting her
pubic mound against my ass, she reached around, plunged her hands under the
elastic band of my underwear, and grabbed my testes. She jerked them around
roughly, hurting me.

"Ow! Damn it, Lily, that hurts!"

She let go completely, and took a step back. I could see her reflection behind
me in the mirror; she looked disgusted and offended.

"Wells, excuse me, Stan. I thought you were a loving husband." I turned to
face her, hoping to defend myself, but before I could utter another word she
swung the top of her foot hard into my testicles. I cried out pitiably,
collapsing onto my hands and knees. I was stunned. Then, to my horror, Lily
stepped up behind me and, with my ass exposed to her, kicked me again from
behind. Her foot seemed perfectly shaped to fit right between my legs, and the
contact was brutal. I flattened on the floor, yowling tearfully, clutching my
balls and rolling back and forth. My wife look down contemptuously at the
ruined heap I had become.

When my tears had subsided, she said, "Stan, if you can't be a man, I'll find
one somewhere else. Now get off the ground and come fuck me, or I'll head to
the nearest bar and pick up someone with a little manhood left."

III.

These episodes of abuse occurred while my wife and her once-estranged sister
had begun hanging out regularly, and growing emotionally closer. Lily
eventually told me she wanted me to hire her wayward sister as a receptionist,
or a general-purpose assistant, at my medical office. I resisted this; her
sister had a reputation for being unreliable, even somewhat lawless, and of
the three times I met her, she had been drunk each time.

"You're going to hire her, hon." My wife's tone was utterly serious, and given
recent events, I was not ready to oppose her. I hired her sister, Jill,
reluctantly, without even glancing at a resume. I knew this would this would
mean trouble; I was just wasn't sure how much.

Unfortunately, my fears about her sister were confirmed as events unfolded.
She had no skills I could utilize in my practice, but was also extremely
arrogant and patronizing. She had educational credentials, but only in the
humanities. Moreover, she was overty sexual - I dare not say "sluttish" - and
seemed to have no concept of professional attire. She'd wear tops that would
expose her cleavage, slightly showy make-up, and short, loud skirts that would
display her thighs. She often wore stockings and bras that seemed right out of
a Victoria Secret catalog. She was pretty - not as slender as my wife - but
far too assertive to be pleasing company.

One day I stepped into the lunchroom where she sat alone, sipping coffee and
reading a magazine for what seemed like a three-hour lunch break.

"My sister tells me you have really big balls," she said. I was shocked - not
just that she say something like this, but I also could not believe my wife
would divulge things like that to her. I didn't know how to respond; I stood
speechless.

"I'll believe it when I see it," she said, staring at my crotch.

"Well, you'll never see it," I said. "It's none of your business."

"Okay, Dr. Eunuch. Suit yourself."

The next day I encountered her alone in the lunch room again. I hesitated when
I saw her, slightly afraid to enter, but since she had already noticed me I
could not retreat.

"How's it hanging, bro?"

I sighed.

"Hi, Jill."

"I have a medical question for you. If a guy has big balls, does that mean
he's going to be more manly than a guy with little ones?"

"It's not quite that simple."

"Because, don't take this personally, you just don't seem that manly to me.
But Lily tells me you have quite a pair down there. So I'm trying to sort out
the Riddle of Stanley. You've got massive walnuts, but you can't satisfy your
woman worth a damn. She practically has to rape you when she wants you to
satisfy her."

I reddened with shame.

"Jill, look, I don't know what your goddam problem is. But if you don't stop
this juvenile taunting, I am going to fire you."

She looked me right in the eye.

"I don't think you are, Stan. I don't think you dare. My sister is the one who
made you hire me, and if you tried to let me go, she would kick the shit out
of you. Don't you agree, brother-in-law?"

With that, she rose to her feet, moved to within inches of my face, smiled,
then turn and walked out. As she did so, her hand brushed - as if by accident,
but I'm sure it wasn't - against my groin.

"Didn't feel much down there," she said in a sing-song voice as she stepped
into the hall. Another employee of mine, who happened to be walking past,
looked at us both, trying to figure out what she meant. I turned away,
petrified.

IV.

"Are you giving my little sister a hard time at work?" My wife asked me that
night.

"Lily, look, how I run my office is no one's business but my own. But since
you're my wife, I'll answer the question. No, I'm not."

"You swear to me?

"Yes."

"Stan, if you are treating my sister badly, so help me, I will castrate you. I
will strip the last trace of your dwindling manhood and leave you a hapless,
babbling eunuch."

"Lily, for God's sake, please don't talk to me like that."

My wife stepped up to me, looked me dead in the eye, and grabbed my crotch. "I
mean it," she said coldly. "I'll cut them off." She emphasized her point with
a quick, abrupt squeeze that made me yelp and brought me to the verge of
tears.

That night, while I drifted at the threshold of sleep, my wife nudged me.
"Stan, I want to have sex."

"Oh, honey, I'm really tired."

I felt my wife's hand move between my legs and tug on my limp penis.

"I'll say you're tired. You're barely two inches long. I've seen miniature
poodles with more manhood."

I didn't have anything to say in response. She moved her hand to my loose,
warm scrotum, put all of the fingertips of her right hand around my left
testicle, and began gently squeezing it, and moving it around.

"You gonna get hard, or do I have to get rough with you?"

She shifted her position so that she could take my other ball in her other
hand. She held both of my balls now, and pulled them towards her and away from
each other. Already my sense of vulnerability was profound, but then she
increased the pressure on my balls until I involuntarily whimpered.

"What was that, Stan? Did you say you want to please me now? You're ready to
give it a good shot?"

She gave my balls a fierce squeeze and tug, sending a jolt of pain through my
body. I cried out involuntarily. "Oh! No, please, honey, please not so rough.
Oh, god...."

But she ignored my request, and continued squeezing my testicles. I felt tears
pool up in my eyes. I began gasping and whimpering.

"Look at this, honey, your cock is waking up! Mm, I can't miss this rare
opportunity."

She was right; despite my pain and my fear that my wife was going to really
damage me, I had grown stiff. With that, my wife mounted me, fully engulfing
her cock with room in her vagina to spare.

"...and the old man rises from the grave," my wife taunted me.

V.

It seemed like my wife had decided she could sexually abuse me at will, solely
for her own pleasure. She was humiliating me and emasculating me on a regular
basis. But the worst, I'm afraid, was yet to come.

"I'm letting my sister move in with us for a while," Lily told me one evening
while we were eating dinner.

"No. Absolutely not. I don't get along with her."

"You have to learn to get along with her. She's family."

"No. I will not let her. It's my house, and I refuse."

My wife glared at me. She rose to her feet, leaned over the table, then
slapped me across the face. I was stunned; stars glimmered at the periphery of
my vision, and the side of my face ached. I could not believe how hard she had
slapped me. I could not bring myself to look her in the eye, but just stated
at my plate, my vision trembling with forming tears.

"It's not your fucking house, bitch. It's our house, and my sister is moving
in. Our sister, Stan. If you don't like it, you can dig a hole in the fucking
back yard, or move into a homeless shelter. She's my sister, I love her, and
she's moving in with us."

I continued avoiding her gaze. To my horror, she slapped me again - this time
harder. I began crying.

"Oh, you fucking eunuch," my wife said. She began walking around the table
toward me. "Come here, let me fuck you up the ass with my goddam wine bottle."

"Okay, okay, let her move in," I burst out, fleeing from the table. I locked
myself in the bathroom, and did not come out until, fifteen minutes later, I
heard my wife leave through the front door.

And that night, my wife's evil, corrupting sister moved in with us.

VI.

I did what I could to avoid my sister-in-law, but she simply did not exercise
the same discretion. In fact, much of what she did seemed calculated to taunt
me, or undermine my sense of security. For example: Jill would leave work and
go home before me, and I'd often come home to find her eating fine dinners
with my wife. Either there'd be no place setting for me, or - on occasion -
there would be a place setting for me, but Jill would have deposited bones,
wrappers or stems on my plate. Moreover, Jill took over my seat at the end of
the table.

Finally, one night I discovered that my sister-in-law was trying to take my
place in my wife's intimate life. I came home from work late, and heard my
wife and my sister watching a movie together in the maser bedroom. Rather than
interrupt them, I retrieved a spare blanket from a closet, undressed, and
began sleeping on the downstairs couch. Then, in the middle of the night, I
heard a strange, disturbing sound coming from my bedroom. I tiptoed up the
stairs in horrified disbelief.

The door to the master bedroom was wide open. Jill was lying on top of my
wife, fucking her missionary-style with a huge - and I mean huge - strap-on
dildo. The thing must have been ten inches long, and - to my astonishment -
almost the entire length of it fit inside my wife's pussy. I could not believe
it; my cock couldn't reach half that depth - in fact, I didn't even know my
wife had such depth.. And my wife was crazed with pleasure; I had never seen
her like that, and at first I thought she must be high on drugs; she was
gasping, moaning wildly, arching her back, babbling in a frenzied amazement.
To tell you the truth I was a little scared by her weird behavior. And yet my
manly instincts took control, of which I admit I was somewhat proud.

"Get the fuck off my wife!" I bellowed with clenched fists.

Jill stopped thrusting into my wife and turned to look at me in the doorway,
standing in my tight white underwear but otherwise naked. Instead of pulling
out, she looked back down at her sister's firm, naked body, smiled
affectionately, then began plunging into her again. My wife gasped, looking up
at her sister, and moaned, "Oh, yes..."

"Wait a minute!" I commanded. "Lily, come on! It's time to make a decision: Do
you want me, or her?"

"Micro-cock takes a stand," Jill mocked me, impaling my wife's vulva with
masterful rhythmic force.

"Oh, Stan," my wife said, shaking her head and looking up at her dominant
sister. "She makes me so much happier than you do."

Jill turned to face me. "It's because I've got a cock, Stan. Look at this."
She pulled the huge plastic penis out of my wife's body, then aimed it toward
me.

"Suck it, Stan. C'mere, suck it." Gripping the cock - I noticed her fingers
weren't able to entirely circle the massive thing - she wagged it at me. "Suck
it! You've probably never tasted your wife's juices before."

"I ought to tear that thing off you and stuff it up your ass," I hissed.

That, it turns out, was a mistake. Jill bounded off the bed, her firm, lean
muscles rippling as she strode over to me. Standing with her nose barely five
inches from mine, Jill threw a fist at my face and it knocked me back against
the wall. Then she threw another, and I was dazed; my head swam, and my vision
blurred. Jill moved close to me, and her huge plastic cock jabbed into my
balls. Using her cock like a ram, she drove me against the wall, pinning me,
and then battered me with her fists. Her blows weren't meant to really disable
me - from her continuous laughter, I could tell she was just having fun
humiliating me.

"Come on, Stan, fight back. Be a man."

I began to taste blood in my mouth.

"Cunt!" I swore at her under my breath.

Then she really let me have it; stepping back, removing the tip of her huge
penis from my groin, she swung her fist into my crotch. I screamed, clutching
at myself, and dropped to my knees.

"Little bastard," she hissed, then punched my jaw. Hard. Tears flowed from my
eyes, and although she began to hit me repeatedly, I didn't dare cover my face
for fear of exposing my testicles to her. I remembered the story my wife told
me of how she castrated Tommy, my wife's favorite lover. I was determined to
not let that happen.

And as I wept, Jill grabbed my hair and forced me to look up at her. Then she
crammed her huge penis into my mouth. Impaling my face with her cock, she
shoved my head against the wall. She pulled out almost all the way, only to
thrust her cock into my face again. Over and over she fucked my mouth while my
tears spilled over her huge rubber penis.

And while she orally raped me, my wife walked up to us, and began strapping on
a dildo of her own. It seemed to match Jill's, right down to the artificial
texturing.

"Give me a turn, babe."

Jill smiled at my wife.

"Yeah?"

"I want him to know what a real man is like."

And with that, Jill pulled out of my face.

"Get on your hands and knees," my wife commanded me.

"Honey, no," I pleaded with her. My jaw was sore, and I felt like the rape had
loosened some of my teeth. My nose was dripping, my vision was blurred.

"Please don't do this to me, Lily. I'm you're husband." I rose to my feet
unsteadily, and looked her right in the eye, hoping she'd feel sorry for me;
hoping that my pathetic tears would evoke any loving memories she might still
have of me. And she met my gaze; leaning toward me, she smiled - and for a
moment I felt like I had evoked her sympathy - but then she shot her knee into
my balls. A high-pitched shriek escaped my throat and I began to fall forward.

"You've been no husband at all, Stan. I'm going to show you what a real man
feels like."

She pulled me forward, and I fell face-first on the floor.

"Here," Jill said, "We'll be nice to you, Stan. Here's some KY." Jill shoved
my legs apart and smeared my ass with the jelly. Then my wife attacked me. The
dildo did not fit. It was just too damn big - my anus was not wide enough. But
my wife did not care; my wife was determined to fuck me, and she wasn't going
to let my physical limitations slow her down a damn bit. I wailed and sobbed
as she plowed into me, ripping me open with her huge cock. "This is what a
real man's like, Stan. You feel this? You're not a man; you're a dickless,
no-ball little ass-twat." With each thrust, it felt like her penis was
hammering the bottom of my throat, knocking me breathless. I could not believe
how strong her hips were. She raped me for what seemed like an hour. At times
she used her hands to push my head against the carpet, and after a while she
lifted my ass up, and reached around to grab my balls. She squeezed my
testicles, jerked my scrotum in different directions, then began pulling it
down and making circles with it, all the while pounding my ass with a cock
more than twice as long, more than three times as thick as mine. I sobbed my
heart out. I was ruined.

"You're not a man," she repeatedly pointed out while she was annihilating me.
"Look what I'm doing to you, you little pussy."

After a while, to shut me up, Jill stood in front of me and began face-fucking
me again, while her sister, who had once been my loving wife, anal-raped me.
These two women, these two vicious sisters, tore me apart from both ends.

At a certain point they bored of reducing my manhood to dust, and pulled their
huge cocks out of me. I collapsed on the floor, clutching at my loins from a
fetal position, whimpering and heaving. While unstrapping her massive tool
from her pussy-area, my wife cursed, "We're not through with you," then rolled
me onto my back and pulled my legs apart. With a fierce, flawlessly-aimed
swing, she hammered my scrotum with her giant penis. I screeched, convulsing
in pain; her sister burst into approving laughter.

"Want to take a swing at my husband's balls?"

"Sure! Can you spread his legs?"

"Sure..."

And with that, they began taking turns beating my testicles with their huge
erect cocks, while I sobbed my poor heart out and struggled feebly to deflect
their blows.

VII.

I don't want to horrify you with a detailed account of how my relationship
with my wife, Lily, ended. I will simply summarize that I abandoned my home
later that evening. I fled in terror of my wife and her sister, and I never
set foot in my home again. My wife and I got a divorce, and she ended up
owning the house - and virtually everything else. I liquidated my medical
practice to pay her and her lawyers off. In the end I had nothing. The divorce
procedure took more than a year, and during a mediation, the mediator left the
room so that my wife and I could be alone together. I understand that the
mediator hoped being alone would somehow rekindle our fondness for each other.
Instead, my wife and I came to blows. She broke gave me two black eyes,
knocked out several of my teeth, bruised my ribs with her knees, and then,
while I was stunned almost unconscious, she stripped me naked then cut off one
of my testicles. A detailed account would appal you, and make me relive the
horror much too vividly.

I hope you men reading this will take caution: Younger women may appeal to you
as sex objects, as trophies. That's how Lily appealed to me. But in the end I
became her ticket to life-long comfort, and my manhood became her trophy.

The End

[Dona Fell Friz]

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[Dona Fell Friz]

An excellent new story at Diana's site.

The Confrontation
by Jayne Ellis
A Female Wrestling Novelette
For Adults Only c 2015.

Sophie versus Danielle

When she entered the lane it began to rain lightly. The soft drizzle fell and she switched on the intermittent wipers. It was not a night to be out in, and it was getting late, but she had to see it through. There had been no other alternative. The logical conclusion would have been to walk away and ignore it all, to simply pre-condition her mind to accept that what was going on was all down to her own insecurity. That would have been the easy way out, the most reasonable way to deal with it. But she was too strong-willed and was not going to back down. Her rival had called her out, and now she was ready to do battle to save her marriage. There was nothing else to do but see this evening though, and then see what happened later. Win or lose.

The narrow lane bisected and split into another lane, and acting upon Danielle's directions, she took a sharp right. Stay to your right, she had said, and then over the rise you'll see my cottage. I will be waiting for you.

And no doubt she would, too! Mused Sophie as she drove up the slight incline.

And true to her word, there it was: Danielle's home. It was an old 18th century cottage. Full of rural charm, it lay away from the lane. It was one of those half-lost places that you would have found difficult to locate. It was a place that was more designed for a modern day hermit, or people that needed a break from the towns or cities. And she could see why such an artist as Danielle had bought this property. It was peaceful and inspiring for bohemian crafts. It was also a great place for an assignation. But again, Sophie wasn't certain about that. Well, not a 100%. But she was going to have it out with her rival like-it-or-not.

Sophie slowed and stopped her estate car, glancing irresolutely across at the muddy track that would take her towards the house. She felt nervous, uneasy. It was natural to feel that way. She hadn't intended to go through with some challenge, and she felt a sense of pride that she had accepted. Now she was here and there was no going back.

She gritted her teeth and drove carefully through the rotting gateway. Her headlights heralded her arrival as she saw the curtains move, the beams bathing the small doorway as she approached. She parked the car and got out, pulling her tennis club holdall with her. She closed the door and locked her car, then heard the front door open. An attractive face peered through the gap, the astute eyes hovering above a distinct smile. This was her rival, she thought.

Danielle was an attractive middle-aged woman. She was two years older than Sophie and had raven black hair that was styled into a longish bob. Fringed and neatly trimmed, she swept back her hair over her ears. She stood wearing a short black robe. She was barefoot and Sophie knew that soon she would be indulging in something too fantastic to contemplate with Danielle. Not as if the likes of Richard would have approved - or would he? Men were such voyeurs when it came to erotic matters, and he would have probably liked to have seen two women rolling around in a sweaty tangle, fighting over him. But Sophie wouldn't have allowed it. This was private, and between her and Danielle only!

"Hello, Sophie," said Danielle with a slight smirk on her lips. "I knew you'd come. I sensed you were game for it."

Sophie found it hard to dissimulate the turmoil that was shooting through her mind. She had never been good at hiding her feelings. And the stare she gave Danielle was not one of friendship. "I'm here and that's all that needs to be said," she said as Danielle smiled and gave her access.

Inside, the cottage was warm and cosy. A log fire roared and glowed at the far side of the room. It made a welcoming sight considering the lousy autumn night outside.

Danielle closed the door as Sophie walked into the living room. The atmosphere was tense and uncomfortable, but Danielle was trying to alleviate their joint ill-feeling.

"Would you like a drink?" asked Danielle amiably. "I'm sure it would be nice to keep it all as congenial as possible, even though the circumstances aren't conducive to it."

Sophie nodded and Danielle paced to the drinks cabinet on the far side of the room. Sophie placed her bag on the sofa, and then swept her long brown hair back. Her heart was racing, and she hoped that she wouldn't betray her nerves. Danielle was calm and relaxed, and she was wondering how she could have been so at ease with this situation. Sophie had expected Danielle to be as equally perturbed as she was. But she saw no anxiety at all. In fact, Danielle was quite the opposite, and when she returned she smiled and handed Sophie a glass of whisky.

"Something to ease you before we start," whispered Danielle as she passed the drink to her rival. Then she stood next to the warm fireplace, and smiled as Sophie drank. Sophie could see that Danielle had made the essential preparations. A series of heavy faux-fur rugs had been placed on the floor. The antique furniture had been pushed back for safety and the area was roomy and spacious. Bathed in the warm fire-glow, the panelled walls gave refuge to a series of shadows that danced and flickered along the wood. It was a tasteful room, very nice but without any hint of pretension.

Danielle gazed into the fire as Sophie downed her drink. She coughed as it bit the back of her throat. It was another tell-tale sign that she was feeling uneasy. But Danielle turned and smiled understandingly. She knew how Sophie felt, and it had taken a courageous woman to be standing where she was. But the time to begin was close and Danielle finished her drink and put the empty glass on the table.

"Will you stop seeing my husband?" said Sophie directly. "I have come to settle this problem between us and I hope it can be solved."

But Danielle simply said, "You know the terms of our challenge. If you win, then I will, and if not - well....."

Sophie sighed inwardly. There was nothing left to say but to do battle with Danielle and end this issue once-and-for-all.

"Very well, let's finish this," said Sophie and unfastened her jacket.

Sophie began to strip out of her cloths and very soon, she stood unashamedly naked before her rival. Danielle watched with detached interest as Sophie slipped on a dark red thong and then stood topless and defiant before her. Adjusting the skimpy and sensual garment to one that felt comfortable, Sophie saw Danielle slip her satin robe away from her shoulders. Their eyes met, a certain intensity passing between them.

Danielle let the robe fall to the chair, and then stepped onto the rug, her dark blue thong as equally skimpy as Sophie's. The material stretched as she moved gracefully towards the wrestling area. She was an attractive woman, and Sophie wasn't surprised why Richard had been sniffing round her studio. But it still grated her, and she was intent on teaching this cow a lesson.

Sophie felt her mouth grow dry with anticipation. Her heart was pounding and Danielle went down onto her knees as if observing an esoteric ritual. She smiled and waited for Sophie to face her, hands on her toned hips. Sophie could see that Danielle was indeed very athletic, but then, so was she. And she knew that she had an even chance to best her rival in a wrestling match - and topless, too!

Danielle had pert breasts that were pointed and firm. Sophie's orbs were more rounded: an adequate c-cup that looked good in an evening dress. Had an observer been present both women would have looked ideally matched, like opposite ends of a bookcase.

They were both tall, standing at 5' 9" and both weighed in evenly at around 125 lbs.

A moment passed as Sophie settled into her situation. She was not a wrestler and she wasn't sure how much skill her opponent had. That was still a mystery, but one that would be revealed soon. But she had to learn to grapple, and if pain was to be her master, then she would learn fast. That much she was certain of.

The two topless women eyed each other, and then it was as if someone had signaled for them to start. They cautiously reached out towards the other. The grips were tentative, almost ineffectual at first, and then they began fighting. Using instinctive moves, Sophie bear-hugged Danielle and this was reciprocated. Fingers knotted behind backs as they began their struggle, allowing their bare breasts to jostle and jiggle and flatten as they contended. It was a mixture of pushes and squeezing, and Sophie let her jaw settle on Danielle's shoulder blade. Danielle followed suit as they started to grunt and groan their efforts, trying to twist or topple the other. It was a clumsy flurry of unskilled movements but eventually, they keeled over onto their side and lay on the rug, still squeezing and hugging. Their bare legs hissed and rubbed against each other as they tried to contain the other's limbs. But leg scissoring was hard. Using the balls of her feet, Danielle pushed down and rolled on top of Sophie, who now looked up in horror as her rival's body rode over her.

Breaking holds, Sophie tried to push Danielle's face away, clenching her teeth in effort. Her small hands cupped her opponent's face and she pushed for all she was worth. Danielle groaned and tried to contain Sophie's wrists, eventually wrenching them away and pinning her down against the soft rug.

She grunted as she forced Sophie's wrists against the rug. Sophie groaned a noise of dismay, her tits bellowing against Danielle's as they wrestled. But Danielle was spread out the full length of Sophie's body, her legs spreading Sophie's slowly apart. Groin against Groin, Danielle felt her mons pubis rub against Sophie's as they contended. It felt sensual and good and their natural shunting evoked a virtual tribbing session. Sophie was thrusting her groin and hips against the other wrestler's, but Danielle was firmly planted, and was enjoying controlling her opponent. This was what she had wanted to do, and that was to dominate Sophie, to grind her smug suburban body into the ground. And that had been her sole intention from the word go: to have fun and pleasure at Sophie's expense.

Like lovers locked in fluid coitus, Danielle was powering the match. Her tits rubbed and smothered Sophie's and then she moved upwards, shifting position, and then teased her opponent by pushing her orbs into her face.

"You bloody cow," came the muffled moan from beneath her breasts, but Danielle was having fun. She had never felt so good in a long time. And now she was wrestling a sexy woman in private and besting the hell out of her! Listening to Sophie's aggrieved sounds empowered Danielle, and she punished her humiliation further by easing on more pressure.

Danielle's generous ass pulsed and stiffened as she wrestled. Her butt was sensually bisected by the fine cords of her blue thong, and from the rear, she looked as if she was engaged in slow intercourse. Smiling, she rested her forehead against the rug, her tits and nipples still torturing Sophie.

Darkness and warm heat - that was all that Sophie saw and sensed. Supple orbs flattened against Sophie's nose and cheeks. Danielle's breasts were in her face and were being stabbed at her mercilessly. And it took quite some effort to push her way out towards the light so that she could breathe. Eventually, with a cry, she made it, and then looked up at the ceiling. She was back in the light and able to see. It was painted white and the fire glowed and danced across its length.

Danielle was still gasping in their struggle, still holding her wrists flat. Sophie was being ground into the rug with Danielle on top. She looked to the right and saw Danielle's figure cast shadows against the panelled walls. Like a lover, she saw the other wrestler's arse pulsate. Grunts and moans punctuated the silence, the fire spitting on occasions as it consumed logs. It was not a good position to be in. Danielle was groaning in her ear, and Sophie's clit was starting to ride out the incipience of an orgasm. Sophie clenched her teeth in effort, still trying to force Danielle from her. A full body press was an hard hold to extricate herself from. It was also humiliating. But Danielle was too well planted and she was also using her upper weight to consummate the press further.

Sophie hit upon a plan to rock to the left and right. It was a long shot. In fact, it may not have been possible if Danielle's legs were spread wide. But she sensed that her rival had closed her legs and was shunting her mound against hers to partially debase her. That was what Danielle was about - to win at all costs and sex-fight her into a weakened and beaten mess. But she felt Danielle's bare feet close to her own and with a feral cry, made her move. It was all about knocking the other off-balance, and timing it right, she did it!

Over they went, rotating swiftly.

A groan of dismay escaped from Danielle's lips as Sophie thrust her left hip upwards. Danielle's lithe body was twisted away and then Sophie was off her back. Elation fired through her and she saw the fear in Danielle's eyes as she powered her slowly over. It was a sudden change of fortune and Sophie was fighting back.

Danielle was horrified. She hadn't expected such strength. And she watched as Sophie's supple body come over hers. "What the hell!" Danielle moaned. "How can this be?" But it was no use. Sophie had reversed the situation to her advantage and was learning the art of wrestling fast.

Sophie sighed contentedly. Danielle's breasts bellowed as Sophie brought her full body down on her opponent's. Now it was her turn to put Danielle in an awkward position and experience the same feelings of defeat as she had. Now it was her turn to lie there in near helplessness. She stared down defiantly, and smiled a mirthless smile. "Now, how does it feel to be on the losing end?" hissed Sophie as she struggled with Danielle's wrists, spreading her legs wide and Danielle's with them. "I'm going to pull you apart." Sophie's thighs pulsed with strength, her toned muscles like solid rock. She was spreading Danielle apart, and drinking in the sight of Danielle's anguished face.

Danielle felt her leg muscles fight their own duel against Sophie's. It was painful and she felt she was being pulled in two like a wishbone. It was starting to get uncomfortable, and she tried to bridge upwards, but Sophie's legs and feet were holding hers in place. Danielle let out a low cry. This was impossible. Sophie was firmly rooted in place and her full weight was crushing her against the rug. She was finding it hard to breathe, and the fire was starting to make their bodies sweat. Danielle inhaled but it sounded labored, and she was virtually sucking air. For ten minutes they had grappled like this. There had been no intricate or skilled moves, but simply sheer strength and simple holds. And now, she was being ground into a faux-fur rug and there didn't seem any way of extricating herself from this.

Sophie saw the apprehension in Danielle's eyes. Danielle knew she was losing. Sophie arched her body upwards, slightly, so that she could take in the beaten wrestler's face. She felt momentarily perverse but she was now a wrestler, and in wrestling, this was fair competition. Sophie was amazed at how she had pulled this off. She had not wrestled before and was new to this. This was all a new learning curve to her, and a hard one at that, but she was enjoying it. Sophie Richardson - topless wrestler. She imagined a sordid-looking wrestling poster stuck to a wall with a photo of her and Danielle in wrestling poses: Sophie v Danielle - sexy woman's match. And she tried to contain her laughter.

The thought sounded ludicrous but it still made her smile. But she swiftly brought her thoughts back to her match, and forced the topless woman harder against the rug. She gazed intently down at the struggling Danielle, who by now was starting to look frightened.

"Let me up, damn it!" cried Danielle desperately. "Let me up. I can't breathe!"

Sophie thrust her breasts into Danielle's face. "Would you have let me up?" She sneered.

A muffled cry and a rush of labored breathing cut the room. Danielle was suffering, and out of the blue, Sophie felt a sense of womanly compassion. This was not wrestling but sadism, and she felt that she was moving away from what she always thought she was and that was civil. She was going too far, so she eased off. Danielle coughed and spluttered and Sophie said sorry, and then casually released her opponent. Sweating slightly, Sophie got to her feet and allowed Danielle to get up. For a moment, Danielle lay on her back. Her tits glistened with sweat in the fire-glow, and she angled her body round so that she lay on her side. She looked sensual and beautiful, clad only in her blue thong. Pressure marks began to show on her body, but Sophie had them, too.

Danielle's generous orbs hung down slightly as Sophie adjusted her red thong, then pushed her hair back. Proud of her performance, Sophie stood with her hands on her hips, waiting for Danielle.

"You really are something, aren't you?" said Danielle as she looked up at her rival. "I never thought you were such a fighter."

Sophie smiled smugly. "Hidden talents, I guess." Danielle smirked and got to her feet. "You're not kidding there, that was well wrestled. You really had me there. I couldn't move."

Sophie was a little surprised. Was that comment meant as a note of respect? It was so unexpected that it took her aback. "Thanks," she said, then waited for Danielle to direct the next move.

Sophie wasn't sure if that was the end of their match but she was sure that she had just taken a fall, or more accurately, a pin-fall as she'd heard it called. But she wasn't sure. Instead, she stood there feeling awkward. She was virtually nude but for a piece of material across her privates to conserve her modesty, wrestling in private with a woman she hardly knew, and didn't know what to do. It was as if Danielle had read her thoughts. She playfully wagged her finger, and smiled.

"I've not finished with you yet, Sophie," said Danielle naughtily. "I deserve to pull back another fall."

It was just as Sophie feared and it was only sheer stubbornness that kept her there. Any other spirited woman would have said, get lost, then got dressed and got the hell-out-of-there. That's what another woman would have definitely done. But oh no, not Sophie Richardson. Not dogged Sophie the company solicitor. She would see it all through, and resolutely to the end. No matter what! That was what made Sophie such a driven success! Never give in was her doctrine.

She cursed herself for not leaving, and then waited for Danielle to announce the next round. This wrestling match could go on all night and she hoped that Danielle would see sense, but it appeared that Danielle was matching her own tenacity to the letter. It seemed that she wasn't the only one that had a determined persona.

Danielle licked her lips and spread her arms and fingers. Sophie could see that she was inviting her to finger-lock with her and the amiable smile on Danielle's face faded to one that was more serious. Sophie advanced and interlaced her fingers with Danielle's, then settled into a test of strength. The wrestlers settled in the centre of the white, faux-fur rug, arms shuddering and straining. Sophie pushed forward and Danielle countered her, gasping her effort to bend Sophie's wrists backwards. A sheen of sweat glistened on Sophie's orbs, her nipples connecting with her beautiful opponent's. Danielle let out a long groan that sounded like a mixture of pain and pleasure. Not even Sophie was sure, but the emotions that passed between them were almost electrifying.

"You really are strong, Sophie," grunted Danielle through clenched teeth. "You're amazingly strong."

"You too," said Sophie as she gasped and twisted position slightly, her muscled derriere juddering in effort. This was hard wrestling and no ground was being made. The sensual impasse lasted a further two minutes, with their tits rubbing and jostling together again. Their arms held at a quarter-to-three position. Sophie had never experienced such intimacy with another woman before. There was a certain tactile element to it all, a proximity that was permissible due to the combative aspects but under other circumstances, would have been considered lesbian.

Danielle tried to trip Sophie, but Sophie skilfully avoided the move, trying to attune herself to Danielle's movements. Instead, twisting slightly and holding her ground, she tried to thrust her thigh round Danielle's, but she couldn't trip her. Groans morphed into grunting, and Sophie closed her eyes in extreme concentration, a patch of sweat causing her mascara to run. But as she opened her eyes, she saw that Danielle was suffering the same, her eyes growing smudged with the seconds.

Danielle felt Sophie's wrists suddenly move backwards and seized upon this break-through. Sophie let out a soft cry as she sensed that she was losing ground, her body arching back slightly to compensate against the muscular pain that would soon hit. Over Danielle's shoulder, Sophie saw their grappling shadows, arms like a slightly bent crucifix. The unwelcome sight reeked of her defeat. She was losing ground quickly, and with a shudder of limbs, Sophie began arch further backwards.

Sophie's knees began to buckle and with a last groan of joy, Danielle forced Sophie's arms round and up her back. Danielle's weapon-like tits flattened against Sophie's as she powered the other wrestler down towards the rug. Danielle almost howled her delight when she sensed she was back in the running, feeling like an amazon queen in the bargain. Fuelled by a mixture of both warrior spirit and innate sensuality, Danielle lay across Sophie's beaten body. In a crude cross-press, Danielle held Sophie and scissored her right arm with her legs.

Locking her ankles in place, Danielle was determined to take this fall no matter what. And she saw Sophie's lower body spring up. On the balls of her feet, Sophie formed a desperate bridge to try and ease her way out, but Danielle held her foe fast, and remained in place. Danielle marvelled at Sophie's taut abs. Her sexy thong looked stretched and strained across her Venus mound and her thighs bulged with power. Sweat stung Danielle's eyes, but it was no issue. Sophie was well and truly beaten and she soon begged to be released. It was like sweet music to Danielle's ears. And her capitulation came loudly.

"Let me up!" came to word with a low grunt. "Enough."

Danielle laughed and complied, then rolled casually away. She felt achy and sweaty and when Sophie sat up, she saw that her opponent was starting to glisten, too.

The room was warm and the fire cast a nice orange glow across the walls; and when Danielle stood up, her sexy shadow drifting along the wooden panelling, tracing her tits perfectly.

Danielle walked over to the window and peeped round the drawn curtains. The rain was coming down heavier now, and dashed across the glass. Danielle enjoyed the feel of the cold glass against her bare tits. She loved the coolness, and she felt it made a welcoming relief. Wrestling was hot and sweaty and the room was making them sweat even more. But she didn't mind that as she wanted to fight Sophie. She wanted to contend with her and was glad that she had found a worthy opponent in her sexy rival. Sophie was turning out to be a natural wrestler, and was glad that her first grappling experience was going well. She turned round and smiled at Sophie, who was now on her knees, her breasts rising and falling in the fire light, her hair slightly tousled. Her midriff was flat and toned, and the sweat accentuated her muscular abs.

"It's like a storm out there," said Danielle as she threw a towel across to Sophie. "I'm glad I'm in here wrestling with you."

"Same here," concurred Sophie. "I'm really enjoying this wrestling lark. This is turning out to be quite a match."

"Yeah, it's fun," said Danielle. "Not bad for our first experience."

Sophie got up and went over to the window. Danielle was right; the rain was coming down in cold sheets and assailing the little cottage. She pressed her perspiring forehead against the glass, and enjoyed the chill of it, just as Danielle had done. It was pitch black outside and spooky. The trees creaked in the wind as the storm raged on.

Sophie smiled as she gazed out towards the darkness. Out there was a lush countryside and a village just two miles down the lane, and here she was wrestling a sweaty match with an attractive woman. It all seemed intensely strange as Sophie wondered what the villagers would have thought had they known what was going on in here right now. The perverse thought made her smile: cottage grappling for fun, how quaint.

Danielle by this time had padded barefoot into the kitchen and Sophie was toweling off the sweat from her breasts and body. Danielle appeared with a glass jug of Pimms and lemonade. Sophie smiled faintly, and Danielle grinned back.

"Might as well make a little party of it, too," she said jocularly. "It's thirsty work." She poured Sophie a glass. "Time for a break, I think."

Danielle picked up her own towel and began to wipe the perspiration from her face and upper body. It was a hard match between them, and she had never sweated so much in her life.

Sophie sat down on the rug, close to the fire. Danielle joined her. The two wrestlers drank for a minute in silence, just gazing into the flames.

"I don't really fancy your husband," said Danielle carefully, trying to put Sophie at ease. "He's really not my type and made the first advance. I didn't know he was married when he came to my exhibition."

"I thought you knew?" asked Sophie. "I thought you was aware?"

"No, and that's why I was shocked and surprised when you turned up at my studio," said Danielle. "I wouldn't have bothered if I'd known."

Sophie scowled and let her annoyance show. "He's such a rat."

There was conviction in Danielle's confession, a certain sincerity that she hadn't expected nor anticipated. And she didn't doubt that Danielle was telling the truth, but it was the deceit of it all that annoyed Sophie. The lies and the excuses and the way her husband seemed to be growing more distant with the passing months. She had tailed him to Danielle's studio in the town and had confronted her. The argument and the brawl that had ensued left them with no other option but to settle this in private. But Danielle's plan had shocked her, and not wanting to be made to feel like a coward, had accepted Danielle's challenge to wrestle. But topless? Where did that come from? And wearing just thongs? It was as if they had both settled on such attire more out of desire than logic. But in anger, both women would have agreed to anything. Even nude wrestling would have been the order of the day had they carried on with any deeper animosity.

But no, they had calmed down and had agreed to wrestle topless. Although how a winner would be determined was still unknown. That hadn't been mentioned. In fact, just getting to grips with each other and working out their issues had been enough. And now they were here, and had done that. Now, with one fall each, they were enjoying a drink. They were relaxing and having a break from their intense match-up. But Sophie and Danielle were under no illusions that their wrestling match was now over. It wasn't. Inside, they both wanted more; and they wanted to see who the better woman was, and when Danielle finished her drink, she rose and got ready for another fall.

Sophie got up from the fireplace and placed her glass down, then joined the other topless wrestler in readiness. She threw her towel on the sofa then grinned mischievously. Danielle nodded and together, they circled each other slowly, in a low crouch, their breasts wobbling as they feigned and bobbed.

Danielle looked hot and sexy in the glow of the fire, her eyes intent upon her equally attractive opponent. Sophie licked her lower lip in anticipation, waiting to strike, her concentration focused on grinding another sweaty submission from Danielle. For beginners, they hadn't done too badly. They had been reliant on simple moves and holds, but what they lacked in grappling skill they made up in stamina. The two women circled cautiously, drawing closer, fingers splayed in readiness to grip.

It was Sophie who made the first move and she was glad she did. She leapt and snapped Danielle into a solid headlock and held the older woman firmly. Danielle felt her head being forced down towards Sophie's shapely hip, and then felt the vice bite hard. Damn! She swore and gripped Sophie around the waist. She felt the palm of her hand brush Sophie's bum, and sensed the solid muscle. She was certainly a powerful girl; that was for sure. And the sheer resilience of Sophie had surprised her. No matter how much she had thrown at Sophie, she came back for more. Danielle has fast becoming aware that this woman was going to be hard to beat. Sophie twisted and the pressure increased. Danielle groaned in agony, desperate to escape. But Sophie held her in a consummate headlock.

Sophie grunted in delight, holding the struggling Danielle in place. She smiled and caught her reflection in a large mirror and drank in the sight of herself wrestling. She stood erect, her jostling tits looking sexy in their struggle. She smiled and laughed, with Danielle squealing in the hold. She turned and rotated so that she got a view of Danielle's near naked ass. It was full and round and had she a free hand to spare, would have slapped it for pleasure. But she needed two hands to contain Danielle. She was taking no chances. Not now and not ever.

Danielle cried out in pain. Sophie was stronger than she looked and the hold was biting down on her neck. She tried to feel her way around Sophie's body, trying to locate a weak point but everything felt taut and firm. She could have been a stinker and cheated by gripping hold of Sophie's thong and pulling the cords from where it vanished in Sophie's ass. The pressure would have torn into Sophie's privates, and that would have been painful if not excruciating.
And as much as it sounded like sadistic fun, she didn't want to fight like that. She wanted to wrestle Sophie fairly, woman-to-woman, and beat her without shame. She wanted to hear Sophie scream her submission, to submit. That was how she wanted to grapple. So she rode out the agony and tried to force Sophie's fingers apart.

It took a few minutes and a lot of energy was spent to work on Sophie's hands, and she did nearly break the hold. But Sophie sensed the end was close and tripped Danielle to the rug. The falling woman let out a cry of anguish, reaching out to protect herself as the ground came rapidly up.

Danielle dropped to her knees. Moving swiftly, Sophie joined her and twisted Danielle's right arm up and worked on the hold. She had seen this move performed on Saturday afternoon wrestling, and wanted to try it out.

Danielle threw her head back and let out a wounded cry. "No - no!" Sophie knelt directly behind her and worked on the back-hammer. She didn't know what she was doing but the pain that was escaping from Danielle's mouth told her that she was doing something right. Working hard on the painful hold, Sophie was once again enjoying torturing Danielle. This is what she hadn't initially expected, but the match had surprised her and it was like she had abilities she never knew she had. When she had arrived at the cottage, she had felt like the inexperienced underdog, and she was certain that the bohemian artist must have sensed the same, but she'd had a shock. Sophie was getting into wrestling and was determined to best her opponent again. Danielle by now was more than aware that she had a real fight on with Sophie, and the angst on her face told the story.

Danielle clenched her teeth as she rode the burning agony out. The pain felt like a wild and living thing, shooting up her bicep. And if Sophie turned it up a touch more, something was going to tear. In desperation, she reached her left hand round and cupped the back of Sophie's skull. Then with a last ditch effort, threw her to the left and twisted, trying not to damage her arm further. Knocked off balance, Sophie let out a startled scream. She released the back-hammer so that she had two hands to break her fall. She fell forward, clumsily, like a child that had been tripped. She ended up prone, her face buried in the rug. And as she hit the ground hard she knew instinctively what was coming next. And she groaned when it happened.

"Now it's my turn," said Danielle vengefully, and brought her full-frontal body down on the back of Sophie's. Sophie felt the arrogance of Danielle's nipples stab into her. The weight of the other wrestler pushed her face forward, burying her nose into the thick material. Once again it was dark and she heard Danielle grunting to contain her. The heavy rug chafed her face. It felt uncomfortable and sore and terrible, and she tried to twist Danielle away.

Sophie mouthed a muffled expletive but Danielle laughed and arm-barred Sophie's face, pulling her backwards while scissoring one of her legs. Suddenly, a pain rose in Sophie's spine and the thunderbolt shock of her tortured lumber area was telling her to quit or suffer the terrible consequences. The spinal pain grew suddenly intense. Although not skilled wrestlers, Danielle certainly knew where to attack. And she'd chosen the worst area of her body to assault. Sophie was no grappling expert but she knew what hurt and this did.

"I give," cried Sophie as the unbearable pain hit. "Give!"

Danielle released her beaten opponent and rolled away. She lay on her back, sensually supine, her tits jiggling as she laughed in relief. Sophie rolled onto her back and lay like Danielle, panting as she the pain faded and moved only when she felt sure there was no damage. Thankfully, there wasn't. And Sophie slapped the rug in disgust at her submission. She thought she'd had Danielle but the older woman always came back for more. Danielle looked over at the clock and made a surprised sound. Time was getting on, and she looked down at her reclining rival and asked her if she still wanted to wrestle.

"Damn right I do," said Sophie enthusiastically. "I'm not finished yet. Let's take this to the limit."

Danielle flopped back and looked over at the defiant Sophie. Sophie looked back and smiled to lighten the combative atmosphere a touch. She knew that Danielle wanted this as much as she did; and neither wanted to stop yet. Neither of them felt sated enough through near naked combat, and needed more. No matter how late it was getting. Sophie was adamant and resolute that she would grapple to near exhaustion before conceding to Danielle, and oddly enough, the other wrestler felt the same. It was as if they were both attuned to each other's thoughts.

"You really are one hell of a woman, Sophie," Danielle said as she angled herself up, her tits glistening again in the firelight. "This could go on until dawn, you know."

"I don't care," said Sophie. "And if the fire dies we put on another log or two."

"Richard doesn't deserve you," said Danielle with all sincerity. "You deserve so much better than him."

Sophie nodded and felt a sense of friendship in the warm air. Danielle lay back, her black bob hairstyle slightly splayed out. Sophie smiled and pushed her hair away from her eyes. "And so do you, darling," said Sophie as she settled onto her knees. "We both do."

Sophie watched Danielle get to her knees. She looked a tad worn but was under no illusions that she still had a lot of fight left in her. But then, so did she.Danielle felt an attraction towards Sophie. It felt as if there was something oddly intimate there. A sudden understanding overwhelmed her and she drew nearer. She was not inviting Sophie to engage yet in another fall, but wanted another form of intimacy. The sheer competition and animosity between them had now drifted into something different. It was exploring a new territory. They had both met to settle their hatred for the other through wrestling and now didn't feel that they were wrestling for the love of a man. Instead, they were wrestling for pleasure, for their own fun. And Sophie knew exactly what Danielle was thinking, too.

In unison, they leant forward and kissed. Their lips met as if it was meant to happen and they kissed cautiously at first, then exploratory. Danielle's probing tongue invaded Sophie's mouth and was met with a mutual response. They embraced and French kissed; their hands and fingers exploring the other's well-muscled bottom. Their breasts met lovingly this time, and not in a sweaty conflict. Danielle's body, instead, felt warm and inviting and soft at the touch. And breaking away from the kiss, Danielle teased Sophie's nipples with her skillful tongue.

Gently pushing Danielle's head back, Sophie took Danielle's lead and pleasured her nipples with her own tongue, enjoying the slightly salty taste of her sweat. Danielle moaned rapturously, and then smiled as Sophie returned to resume their French kiss. Danielle's probing fingers slid down Sophie's midriff and desired to explore what lay beyond the red thong briefs. An index finger sensed Sophie's pubic hair, but Sophie halted further exploration.

"Not yet," Sophie whispered softly. "We can do that later."

They broke away, and Sophie gently eased Danielle down. This time, Sophie's body was welcome to do what it wanted to do, and without resistance. She lay on top of Danielle, body-on-body, and drank in the sight of their conjoined forms. She lay between the older woman's thighs and so wanted to grind her to a screaming orgasm but wanted to hold back. Instead, she teased Danielle's nipples and then rolled away. It was evident that she didn't want to expend her energy. And so she lay on the rug, on her back, waiting for the moment to take them to the next level.

Danielle was ready to wrestle again. She felt the need to grapple with Sophie and playfully gestured her new-found lover to join her in the centre of the rug. Sophie complied, needing little encouragement. She was ready to wrestle again, and with a low grunt, they sprang forward and their bodies slammed together with a dull thud.

For the next thirty minutes, they wrestled intently, both absorbed in their match. And that's what they did. They wrestled with a renewed sense of purpose, and this time it was for their own fetishism and not Richard. No fall had been taken and the fire started to burn out. And by the time Sophie finally ground a sensual pin-fall out of Danielle, the fireplace was nothing but softly glowing embers.

Sweaty and near beaten, Danielle could see that they still had a match to fight. She rose from the rug a little unsteady, pushing her hair away from her eyes. Sophie lay on her side, her body soaked in the moisture of her exertions, and she watched Danielle put a couple of logs on the fire. Danielle poked the fire until a flame started, and then glanced over at the clock. It was closing in on midnight and the rain had stopped outside. Time had drifted by and she spoke to her opponent-lover with some concern. "Richard will be wondering where you are, you know. You could give him a call. You can use my phone."

But Sophie had forgotten about her disloyal husband. In fact, she didn't care anymore. She was no longer interested in that love-cheat. And she slowly shook her head.

"Let him sod off," said Sophie contemptuously. "I'm having my pleasure tonight and so are you."

Danielle smiled thinly. She liked Sophie's style, and grew to respect her both as a wrestler and a woman.

"Ready?" Danielle said as she settled down in front of the perspiring Sophie.

"As always," came Sophie's response and the women began wrestling again. Over they rolled once more in a sweaty impasse of bodies and snaking legs. Both were locked in elongated struggles that gave neither a lead. Their aching limbs felt damp against the others and Sophie soon grappled the advantage out of Danielle by catching her in a full-nelson hold. On their knees still, Sophie controlled Danielle from behind. She enjoyed the sight of Danielle's glistening tits in the firelight. Like polished orbs, they bellowed as Danielle, close to exhaustion, was fighting for breath. The sounds of their ragged breathing filled the room as gasps mingled with groans.

Panting her final efforts, Sophie felt that she was nearly spent herself, and the match now held little surprise or suspense anymore. It had now reached a sweaty deadlock where holds were difficult to maintain and all they could do was rely on sheer luck. They were still on their knees, with Sophie straining to maintain the nelson on Danielle. Danielle was arched slightly back, soft hisses escaping from her clenched teeth. But this was getting them nowhere. Sophie had to go for a pin-fall. It was the only way to secure another victory.

Sophie let out a cry and forced Danielle round and released the nelson hold, almost propelling her down flat against the rug. With a last smother move, Sophie took an equalizing fall and howled her perspiring pleasure as Danielle called time on their fight. Sophie was so engrossed in lying flat-out on top of Danielle that she didn't hear her opponent's protestations. She was far too absorbed in besting Danielle and was lost in a mixture of emotions, fatigue and oily sweat. It was only when she looked down into Danielle's tortured face that she realized that it was over.

"Enough!" Danielle cried, wiping the dampness from her face. "I cannot go on any longer."

And panting for breath, Sophie nodded. The wrestling had to end now and they silently agreed to finish and call it a draw. To have wrestled for so long and to have reached such a sweaty and exhausting climax was a testimony to their fitness. But enough had been enough, and they were both aware that their bodies would ache like hell tomorrow. But tomorrow was another day, and for now, it could wait.

Sophie eased herself away, her sweaty tits hanging down like an animals as she settled back onto all-fours. Her long hair was damp and lank with sweat, and Danielle was completely spent and near breathless. Her face looked fatigued and Sophie looked as equally worn out. It had been an epic bout of grappling and one which neither of them would ever forget.

Tonight, the two wrestlers had contended, loved, and had become close friends, too. And Sophie shook Danielle's proffered hand. The two women flopped back against the rug and smiled amiably at the other, their bodies glistening in the dying glow of the fire.

And there it ended, at 12:30am in the morning, on a large faux-fur rug, with two totally exhausted women rising from their combative session and limping towards the shower, still with another battle yet to be fought, but one where they could settle the remainder of their match in bed. The End

[Dona Fell Friz]

Time for a wake-up kiss to this great topic!

Here is a story of muscle, sex and sisterhood from Diana's site.

Enjoy and add one of your collection or one of your own.

As always, full credit and thanks to the original poster.


My Amazon Sister
By Nomans Land
A woman's beautiful, buff sister comes for a visit and turns her world upside down.


For adults only.

I hadn't seen my sister, Paula, in nearly five years. Now she was coming to
visit with my husband and me for a few days. Then she was going on to Mexico
for the rest of her vacation. She had told me several years ago that she had
taken up bodybuilding and she'd said she had made a lot of progress in her
most recent letters, but I wasn't really prepared for what I saw when I picked
her up at the airport.

She was one of the last people off the plane and for a moment I thought she
might not be on board, so I nearly fell over when I finally recognized her.
She still had a very pretty face and her nice, long black hair. And she was
still very beautiful and feminine, but now she was built like a Mack Truck.
She was wearing short sleeve shirt half shirt and a micro mini-skirt so I had
a good view of her entire body. When I'd last seen her, she had been full
bodied, leaning to a few slightly chubby. I was amazed that anyone could
transform themselves so completely. She now had huge, broad shoulders, thick,
muscular arms, and a trim, washboard waist. When she saw me she dropped her
carry on bag and threw her arms open screaming out my name. "Beth!" I ran into
her arms and we kissed each other on the cheek, then she surprised me by
momentarily lifting me off the ground and spinning me around in her powerful
arms like I was a child. When she set me down I saw she still had the same
dazzling smile I'd known since she was a little girl, but I had to express my
shock at her new appearance and her strength!

She laughed at my reaction. "I told you I'd been working out. Did you think I
was kidding around?" She followed this up by raising one arm and flexing her
bicep. I was a little embarrassed as other people around us stopped to gap at
my younger sister, but seeing the astonished reactions of the crowed around us
suddenly made me feeling very proud of my little sister as well. In our family
Paula had always been the shy retiring type, while I was the wild extrovert.
So now if her getting into bodybuilder made her free enough to show off her
fantastic build like this, I was all for it. We picked up her luggage and she
wouldn't let me help her with the three big bags, showing me she was just as
strong as she now looked.

As we drove to my home we shared some girl talk, which is the kind of talk
women have about men when there are no men around to hear it. Women when
they're by themselves are ten times more filthy and lewd in their discussions
about men then most men could ever even imagine. As sisters will, we discussed
who she had been fucking, how my husband was in bed, and so on as we continued
the long drive to my house. As we drove I found it difficult keeping me
attention focused on the road because of that incredibly short miniskirt my
sister was wearing and I was having trouble taking my eyes those huge,
muscular thighs of hers as she crossed and uncrossed her legs during the trip
home. My God, they were the biggest, hardest looking pair of legs I'd ever
seen in my life. To my own shock my pussy was starting to moisten as my eyes
roved over those fantastic lower limbs of hers.

When we finally got home, Paula wanted to shower and change. But her casual
invitation for me to join her stunned me as I didn't realize she had been
feeling what I had during our drive home. We had never really had sex
together, but during our teen years, we had watched each other masturbate and
we had cuddled in bed and practiced kissing together. We had always really
loved each other, but that love had never been of a truly sexual nature before
today. Now she seemed to be able to sense how her big, muscular body was
exciting me and I think my excitement was turning her on as well. I found that
I couldn't help but be aroused by my buff, younger sister. She was like a man,
yet very feminine, too. I found the combination intoxicating, yet this was a
boundary I didn't want to cross.

I tried to refuse, but Paula simply took my hand and led the way to the
shower, then she started to disrobe me. She was my little sister by more then
three years, but her new take charge attitude along with her magnificent body
had my head swimming and I mutely let her lead me into the warm, inviting
water that came streaming down. We lightly kissed and played with each other
as we showered, taking things nice and slow.

As we dried each other off, her eyes locked with mine in a way that only means
one thing. She took me in her big, muscular arms and kissed me deeply, her
tongue playing with mine as the kiss deepened. Once more she took the lead as
she pulled me into my own bed. As we continued to tongue kiss each other she
told me how beautiful I was and how much she had missed me. Then we fingered
each other's cunts lightly. It was very gentle, and we both came quickly. She
promised to keep this new aspect of our relationship secret from my husband.

We sat out by the pool and had some drinks as we waited for my husband, Mike,
to come home from work. He finally arrived and was completely taken with
Paula. She was wearing a very brief bikini and he nearly drooled over her
hugely buff bod'. He sat down and started peppering her with questions about
her training, what contests she had been in and every other aspect of her
bodybuilding lifestyle. Then he started asking her to flex her muscles so he
could feel how hard and strong they were. I didn't like the attention he was
giving her, yet I couldn't really blame him because she was as exciting to me
as she was to him. After the sun set and it started cooling down we went into
the living room to continue the conversation. Paula and I decided to stay in
our bikini's and after a few drinks we got Mike to strip down to his Jockey
shorts to be more comfortable. Paula and I had talked about this part earlier
as we'd waited for Mike. He didn't realize it yet, but he was going to give us
girls a little show before the night was through.

We had enough drinks to put us in a warm mood, then we turned on the cable and
found an X-rated movie, which really got us heated up. Paula sat in the
leather recliner and watched as Mike and I started making out and foundling
each other. Mike freed my tits from the bikini top and rubbed my crotch as I
started moaning. I lost control and pulled his big cock out of his shorts and
started running my hand up and down it's length. I saw Paula's eyes widen as
she saw the size of Mike's hard-on. As we continued our play, I started to
jerk him off, and he sucked on my nipples and fingered my dripping slit. The
fact that Paula was there, watching us did something to the both of us. I had
never seen Mike get so hot so quickly in our eight years of marriage. He tore
his shorts off, then ripped away my bikini bottoms and spread my legs wide to
allow his bloated cock access to my sopping pussy. I was more then willing and
drew my legs up till my knees were nearly rubbing my nipples and I took him
all the way inside me as he started roughly banging away at me. He whispered
in my ear as we fucked. He said that he would love to fuck Paula and that we
should have a three way with her. I told him that I didn't want him fucking my
little sister. And that if he did, it would kill me. He said he knew that and
that he had just putting me on.

I looked over my husbands shoulder to see Paula's eyes burning with lust as
she had her hand stuffed down her bikini bottom, fingering herself to a fast
building orgasm. Her eyes captured mine as Mike banged away on me. He was
grunting as the lust consumed him. I was more interested in watching Paula as
she pulled off her bikini bottom so I could see her sweat pussy as she worked
her fingers in and out.

"Here it comes, Baby," Mike said to me as he pulled his cock out of my cunt
and started shooting his creamy load all over my tanned stomach. A little
puddle of cum collected in my bellybutton so I scooped some up with my finger,
then sucked it clean as Paula watched me. Her eyes narrowed into little slits
as she studied me the way a cat would study a bird it was about to pounce on.
Finally her head rolled back and her eyes closed in intense pleasure as she
cam hard. I knew she had a huge orgasm as she panted out her pleasure. As I
looked from her to Mike, who was sweating and panting himself, I pouted. I was
the only one who hadn't gotten off during all the action. As Mike rolled off
me and slowly sat up, I spat on my fingers and started to rub my clit.

"Just get a load of this bitch!" Mike said to Paula. "Is she the hottest piece
of ass you've ever seen or what!"

Paula just smiled as she watched me finger myself. Then she did something that
totally shook me to the core. She held up one thick arm and flexed her
magnificent bicep to it's fullest. As the head of the bicep swelled to it's
maximum size, she kissed it and let her tongue run over its massive length. I
cam in a flood as I watched Paula, with Mike laughing and clapping at the show
I was putting on for him the entire time. He hadn't seen Paula's little
posedown and I wondered what he would have thought if he had.

After I collected myself we listened to some music and Paula and I took turns
dancing with Mike. It was obvious something was developing between them.
Everytime they danced together they were dancing closer and more lewdly,
rubbing each other's bodies and lightly kissing. I began to feel left out and
more then a little jealous. But the object of my jealousy was directed at
Mike. As they seemed to grow closer and intimate I wished it was just me and
Paula alone in the house, dancing and laughing together. I hoped that I would
be able to hide my feelings from Mike, I knew that it was crazy to be feeling
this way about my own sister, but I found I couldn't help it. As he danced
with Paula, he kept making jokes about the three of us sleeping together and
him fucking Paula. I told him that Paula could share our bed, but I didn't
want him to fuck my sister.

We had discussed cheating before and we had both sworn that neither of us
would ever be unfaithful. The idea of him fucking Paula was exciting to me and
highly disturbing at the same time. I found the more I watched him with Paula,
the more I wanted Paula all to myself.

We kept dancing and drinking and talking till late into the night. Finally
around three in the morning we were all ready for bed. Paula hadn't had nearly
as much to drink as I, so she helped me up the stairs to the master bedroom as
I was feeling quite woozy. Halfway up the stairs, I nearly fell, so she simply
picked me up in her powerful arms and carried me the rest of the way. I felt
very safe and content as I rested my head on her massive shoulder while she
carried me. Finally we reached the bedroom and she lay me down and I curled up
and started dozing. But I came to when I heard Mike and Paula whispering on
the other side of the bed to each other. I pretended to be dead to the world
as I wanted to see if Mike would really screw my sister in our own bed while I
was supposedly asleep. I also wondered if Paula would let him do it. As I
listened to them talk dirty to each other I found I wanted them to screw, yet
at the same time I didn't. It's hard to explain and I'm afraid I don't even
understand it fully.

As I lay there, Mike called out in a low voice, "Honey, are you awake?" I
didn't answer. Then he shook me lightly to make sure I really was sleeping. I
simply yawned and turned over, keeping up the pretense. I heard him start to
complement Paula. He told her how sexy and strong she looked and how any man
would be lucky to be with her. Then they started kissing. I was a little
shocked and hurt to see Paula responding to his come-ons. He got on top of her
and began to deeply french-kiss her, working his way down her neck, he started
sucking on her hard nipples. Her low body fat had shrunk down her breasts
somewhat, but the massive pectoral development underneath them made her tits
stand out very high and firm. When he raised his head he started french
kissing her once more. As they did, they started talking dirty. He was saying
how hot it was fucking her in our bed and she was saying how much she wanted
to see what I'd been getting all these years.

I lay in the dim light and watched them go at it with half lidded eyes as I
continued to pretend that I was sleep. Mike rose up and I saw he had the
biggest hard-on I could ever remember him having in all our years together. It
never got that big for me, I thought wistfully. He started slowly working it
into Paula's dripping fuck hole. She wrapped those big, muscular arms and legs
around him and took his huge cock deep inside herself. I was amazed at how she
was able to control the action. Slowing him down or speeding him up with just
a squeeze from her powerful legs. Mike grunted with the effort of trying to
bring her off as his body became bathed in sweat. Finally she whispered that
she was ready and he pounded into her with everything he had. And she took it
all -- hard, fast and wet. Suddenly he went stiff as his orgasm overtook him.

"Oh God, here it comes!" he said as he groaned from effort.

"Give it to me, Baby," Paula said, seemingly as fresh as when she had started
making love to my husband. "Shoot that big load inside me."

Mike gave one final huge grunt - like a pig in heat, I thought - and he shot
his load into my baby sister. He collapsed on top of her, shaking with relief
from his final release. Finally he roused himself and pulled all the way out
of her. He kissed her again and said he was going to take a shower.

As soon as he was out of the room Paula rolled over, towards me, and cupped my
face in her strong hands. She kissed me, probing my mouth with her tongue and
said, "Feel my pussy, Beth. Feel your husbands hot load dripping from my
fuckhole!"

Her lewd words and brazen attitude had huge effect on me. I suddenly went
crazy with lust as I dug my fingers into her dripping snatch. I could feel
Mike's creamy discharge still warm and oozing inside her. I licked my finger
and Paula took one digit into her own mouth. Then we went into a fuck and suck
frenzy! I had never been so hot in my entire life as I was at that moment. It
was blowing my mind to cheat on my husband in our own bed with my sister right
after he had cheated on me. I sucked on Paula's nipples, just as he had, then
sucked her tongue into my mouth and I thought I'd explode with pleasure.

"Eat me out!" Paula nearly shouted. "Suck your husbands cum out of my hot
cunt!" I felt an animal lust come over me that sat fire to my very soul. I
kissed my way down Paula's washboard belly on my way to area between her
hugely muscled thighs. I kissed the area around her pussy for a few moments,
then thrust my tongue into as deeply as I could. I had never eaten another
woman's pussy before, but I knew at that moment that this wouldn't be the last
time for me. Images of all the women who had come on to me at work in the past
popped into my head as ate my sister out. At work, at the gym, at the theater
and gallery openings. I would suck them all off now. I wouldn't let any
opportunity slip by in the future as I'd be on the look out for a lovely lady
to pleasure and pleasure me in return. Paula and I sucked each other off till
we heard the shower stop running. We lay in bed when Mike returned, both
pretending to be asleep this time. After he lay down and drifted off, we snuck
off to the guest bedroom and resumed our love making.

We finally returned to bed, just before dawn. At 7 AM Mike had to get up and
go back to work, which left the entire day for Paula and me to resume our
exploration of each other's bodies. At the end of her stay, I felt closer to
Paula then ever before. Closer then I thought was possible. We kissed and
hugged at the airport before she left, and we promised it wouldn't be another
five years before we see each other again. Actually I'm planning a trip to
visit her in the city next month. I'm sure Mike won't mind. Too bad he won't
be able to make the trip.