After a long, hard struggle I’d ended up right where I wanted to be: a beautiful apartment in a wonderful neighborhood with a lovely roommate. It had taken more than one no-holds-barred catfight-cum-sexfight, but I was finally able to settle into the life I’d dreamed of - my dream job in my dream apartment in my dream neighborhood. I even wrote a book about it!
But nothing lasts forever. Twenty happy years on, I was temporarily between roommates, replacing a nice young woman who had just moved to Argentina, screening replacements, when I got the notice that the building was going to be sold.
At first I wasn’t worried, thinking I’d just be paying a different landlord. That all changed at the tenant meeting the entire building was invited to. The energy in there was bad, an angry buzz. Up on a wooden stage stood the building’s owner, colorful local character Mr. Winslow, as well as a brunette woman in a black skirt suit I’d never seen before.
“All right, is everyone here?” Mr. Winslow started, holding a microphone up to his mouth as he made a show of shading his eyes and looking out over the crowd. “Wonderful. So y’all know I’m fixing to sell the building - “ he had to stop, holding his hands up with a smile as boos washed over him. “I hear ya, I hear ya. Just listen, y’all can boo me later, all right? This here’s going to be the new owner, Alyssa Maynard. And yes, her daddy’s that Mr. Maynard” - must be Rick Maynard, local real estate mogul - “so I’m sure this ain’t gonna be the first building she’s buying. Now I’m sure y’all have some questions-”
“Don’t do it!” someone up front yelled.
“That’s not really a question,” Mr. Winslow grinned, his smiling persona not cracking. “Well, let me turn it over to her.”
Alyssa Maynard, new owner of my charming old building, took the mic and stepped up to the front of the stage. She looked to be in her mid or early 20’s, about 5’6”, pretty shapely from what I could see under her tasteful black suit, ruffled white shirt, stockings and pumps. Her face was a little plain, her straight brown hair cut into a short, professional bob. I couldn’t decide if she looked like a smart young businesswoman or a young kid playing with Daddy’s money. Maybe both.
“Hi, everyone,” she started confidently. “Well, as you’ve heard, my name is Alyssa Maynard, and I’m going to be buying your building. Let me show you our development plan-”
Behind her was a large sheet covering something. She whipped it off to reveal a drawing of a horrible, soulless glass box. That was bad enough, but my eyes went to a large caption on the right side: 338000 square feet of office space!
My heart stopped in my chest - everything I’d gone through, the wonderful home I’d made, literally to be torn down? And to make room for what? Another soulless glass box office building!
“No!” I howled so loudly half the audience turned to look at me. I even got Alyssa’s attention: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but office leasing-”
I only half heard her bullshit explanation of office vs residential real estate prices. I stood there, simmering, through a sales presentation, until at the end: “I’m going to pass the microphone around for questions.”
Oh boy. Alyssa BS’d her way through a few pleas to reconsider before the mic got me: “Hi, Kelcie Hernandez, 23D. There’s no way we can talk you out of building that - thing?”
“Thank you for the question, Mrs. Hernandez. As I’ve explained, the market-”
“Why are you buying the building if you’re just going to tear it down?”
“Mrs. Hernandez,” Alyssa was giving me a friendly, indulgent smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “This location is perfect for offices. A lot of residential is moving out of the city core because-”
I’ll spare you the long back and forth we had and just say neither one of us changed the other’s mind. Eventually the meeting wound down, most of the other tenants apparently having run out of gas, mumbling about looking on Zillow for new places to live, and it started breaking up.
But I wasn’t done. I waited as the rest of the angry tenants filed out, followed by Mr. Winslow, who gave me an exaggerated, boy-I’m-sorry hangdog look. Alyssa was the last, and I stopped her as she went past: “Mrs. Maynard, could I talk to you?”
“Mrs. Hernandez,” she checked her watch. “I have a little time. Let me guess, you aren’t happy about the new building. I understand-”
“If you understood, you wouldn’t be tearing it down!”
“I understand,” she went on a little louder, “you’re attached to your apartment. But these things happen-”
“They don’t happen if you don’t buy the building!”
“Misses Hernandez,” her words were polite, but she was yelling angrily, “I’m sorry, but this is going to happen-”
“No it isn’t!”
“You can’t stop it by just saying no! You don’t own the building!”
“I live here-”
“That’s not owning the building! Do you know what owning a building is?” she yelled, her patience finally having cracked. I tried to respond, but she was yelling over me: “No, you listen to me now! I’ve put up with your whining for an hour and a half, and you’re going to listen to me! I’m buying this fucking building, I’m tearing down your shitty little apartment, and I’m building whatever I fucking want here!”
Her outburst finished, we just stared at each other for a second. The tension was broken as back into the room came Mr. Winslow.
“Gosh, I sure hope I’m not interrupting,” he grinned. “But I heard some shouting in here. I take it you two are having a, ahh… frank expression of opinions?”
“I was just explaining to Misses Hernandez here how real estate works,” Alyssa huffed.
“And I was explaining that people live here-” I yelled.
“And they can live somewhere else!”
“You know, I’ve got an idea,” Mr. Winslow broke in. “You two young ladies are so passionate. How about this? Maybe the two of y’all could wrestle for it. Alyssa, you win and I’ll sell, Kelcie, I’ll keep the building as rental units-”
“What?!” Alyssa exploded. “You can’t back out of the sale!”
“Can’t I?” he grinned. “We haven’t signed the contract yet.”
“We have a verbal agreement-”
“Sure, we do. Verbal. Can you show me where I’ve put my name down anywhere?”
“I’ll do it,” I jumped in. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d fought for my home.
“Of course you’ll do it,” Alyssa sneered. “You don’t have anything to lose!”
“I guess you’re right,” I aimed my best shit-eating grin at her.
“Fine,” she snarled. “I’ll do it.” She turned to Mr. Winslow: “Err… do you have somewhere…?”
“Oh, sure,” he grinned. “Not the first time I’ve seen a dispute settled like this.” I bet, I thought, wondering if Alyssa knew what she was getting into. “How about tomorrow night? I’ve got a little place…”
A little place didn’t really describe it. The next night I biked over to the address we were given, a top-floor penthouse in another building Mr. Winslow owned. One room was clearly where we would be fighting, a large mostly empty space, one wall plain white, the other three one-way glass with a breathtaking view out over the city. The floor was covered in thick black mats, the fighting area surrounded by eight cameras. Up against the non-window wall was a large wooden box labeled “TOY CHEST” and a single printed sheet of paper headed RULES. It occurred to me maybe I should have asked what the rules were before accepting the fight, but I’d been so swept up… might as well see what I’d gotten myself into. I took a deep breath and read the RULES:
All moves are allowed except biting.
No broken bones/permanent injuries.
The safe word is magazine. If either woman says magazine, all action stops immediately.
The winner can use whatever they want from the toy chest on the loser until 8 am Monday.
You can use anything you want in the apartment until 8 am Monday. The fridge is stocked with water and gatorade.
Please wear the supplied outfits to start. You can keep whatever is left of them at the end of the match.
Have fun!
Well, that wasn’t too bad. I supposed my next order of business was finding the supplied outfits, which turned out to be in the large master bathroom. They were both expensive-looking silk lingerie, mine red with black lace, Alyssa’s emerald green. I got changed, checking myself out in the mirror as I heard Alyssa enter.
“Mrs. Hernandez,” she deadpanned as she walked into the bathroom. “Nice outfit.”
“Here’s yours,” I tossed her underwear at her, laughing as the panties hit her in the head and hung down over her face. Alyssa whipped them off, visibly struggling to keep her cool. I left her there to get changed, going back to the fight room to take a peek in the toy chest. Inside was, well, toys: gags, whips, spreader bars, nipple clamps, a half dozen flavors of lube, and a rainbow of vibrators and dildoes, some attached to strap-on harnesses.
“Ew,” Alyssa noted over my shoulder, having finished changing and come into the room.
“C’mon, you’re not scared of having a little fun, are you?” I teased, lifting the red ball gag I was holding up.
“Yeah, fun,” she sneered, grabbing it out of my hands. “Put this on.”
“Maybe if you beat me.”
“Definitely if I beat you,” Alyssa returned the gag to the box, lifting out a spreader bar. “What is this?”
“These cuffs go on your ankles and it keeps you from closing your legs-”
“Oh, lovely. Do you get the feeling that old goat set this whole thing up just to get us here?”
“There’s a thought,” I muttered as Alyssa put the bar back and closed the box, wondering how many women had fought here. Now that I looked closer at the mats, they were well scuffed from use.
“Well, I’m not getting any younger,” Alyssa told me. “Let’s go - unless you want to give up now?”
“That’s my line.”
“Uh huh.”
We went face to face in the center of the mats. If Alyssa was nervous, she was hiding it like a champ, her plain face totally impassive. I suppose thinking about it she should have the upper hand - she was 20 years younger than me at least, two inches taller, and, I could see from her now mostly exposed body, in great shape. I at least thought I must have an experience edge - I’d been fighting for those 20 years of age I had on Alyssa, and hopefully that would make up for my heavier, curvier body and shorter height.
The fight began as we started warily circling each other. “I’m going to enjoy this,” Alyssa told me. “I’ll save you a spot in the front row when we demolish the building!”
Was she trying to get me worked up? I took the chance she was, emitting my best berserk war scream and coming in behind a huge right aimed at taking her head off. Alyssa fell for it, ducking low, straight into my rising left fist, which slammed into her breadbasket.
“Uhhhh!” she gasped, stepping back, hands over her tummy. Instead of pressing the attack, I waited to see her reaction. I gave it about a 50/50 chance that was going to be the entire fight - I’ve had a few where the other girl thinks she’s going to go 12 rounds with you and then bows out after taking the first real punch.
But Alyssa took a deep breath, straightened up, raised her fists, and came in on me. So it was going to be a real fight. Alyssa feinted high, not fooling me, then unleashed a kick, one aimed squarely at my crotch.
I tried to turn my thigh and catch her foot against it, but my body didn’t react quickly enough. I took the hit full-force, her foot smashing up into my pussy, white-hot pain lancing through me. I fell to the floor in a heap, covering myself, panting in shock.
“How did that feel, Mrs. Hernandez?” Alyssa yelled down at me, punctuating her question with a hard kick to my left side.
“Call me Kelcie,” I gasped.
“Fine, Kelcie. Get up!”
She grabbed my hair and one shoulder, pulling me to my feet, pushing me back away from her. We both raised our fists and closed. I tried to keep my mind on my opponent and not the dull ache radiating from between my legs; I couldn’t afford to make a mistake against Alyssa.
It looked like my opponent was smelling blood, thinking she could come in and finish me quickly, leading off with a high right. This was a bit aggressive, and I managed to catch her wrist, spinning behind my opponent, using my grip to apply a strong hammerlock, pulling Alyssa’s arm up as far as it would go.
I pressed myself up against Alyssa: “You know, I’m no pushover,” I told her. “I’ve been through a lot to get here-”
“I know, I read your book,” Alyssa grunted.
“You what?”
“Did you think I wouldn’t find it? I found your Patreon, too.”
“Err-”
“Did you think your dumb fake name would fool me?” she scoffed. “And where did you get ‘Super Deadly Ham Attack’?”
“I’m a chef-”
I realized I’d let myself be distracted as Alyssa burst out of my hammerlock, turning to face me. Caught by surprise, I was still trying to lift my hands back up into a guard as she shot forward, grabbing my shoulders, pulling me forward and down, her rising knee exploding into my stomach.
I collapsed onto my chest, wheezing, drooling into the mats. Correctly judging that I couldn’t resist for the time being, Alyssa straddled me, reaching down to unhook my bra, working it off my body as I focused on sucking down as much air as I could. By the time she had it off, I was recovered enough to roll over, only for her to grab the waist of my bottoms and yank them off my legs.
“Well, what do you think?” I couldn’t help but ask as I got up, inviting her to look at my naked body.
“For a woman of your age?” Alyssa snorted. Ooh, she was trying to make me angry again. Well, I’d show her what she wanted to see.
“My age!” I barked, closing in on her. “You hope you’re going to look this good-” closer, closer - “when you’re my age!”
I lunged behind a low left, aimed square at her crotch. Alyssa fell for it, dropping her hands to catch my hand or wrist, possibly to try and get her own hammerlock. Whatever she had planned was upset as I pulled the hit, my right hand coming around, my fist smashing into her unprotected jaw.
Alyssa spun as she fell, landing chest-first on the mat with a sharp grunt. I repaid her earlier stripping, standing over her, unhooking her bra and pulling it off her body. Instead of moving on to her panties, I wrapped my opponent’s own bra around her neck, planting my foot on her back. I held one end of her bra in each hand, took a deep breath, and pulled back as hard as I could.
Alyssa’s torso was yanked up off the mat, her hands immediately going to her neck, trying to pull the bra away. I could hear her choking, struggling and, it sounded like, failing to breathe with the bra pressed against her windpipe.
“Just tap out when you’re done,” I grunted, pulling as hard as I could. I’d won a fight with this very move, gosh, it must’ve been 12 years ago now. Either Alyssa was tougher than my opponent back then or I’d lost some strength, because I couldn’t quite finish her off. Instead, I had to release her bra after a few moments, my arms burning with fatigue.
Still, as Alyssa rolled over I could tell I’d done some serious damage. Her face was flushed as she panted, rubbing her neck, where I could see through her fingers a deep, angry red mark. She started trying to get up, making it to her knees before I walked over to stop her.
“Stay down there,” I commanded. To make sure she did, I lifted my right arm, then brought the tip of my elbow down on the top of her skull, my opponent flopping bonelessly over on her side. I rolled her over on her back, and now I went for her panties.
Either Alyssa was much more resilient than I gave her credit for or I hadn’t landed my elbow exactly right as she recovered much faster than I thought possible, her hand coming up between my legs as I bent over, her knuckles smashing into my pussy, white-hot agony flashing through my body.
I squeaked, backed up, covered my crotch, and sank down to my knees, eyes squeezed shut. Alyssa walked up to me and floored me with a roundhouse kick to the head, her foot arcing around and smashing into my left temple, leaving me laying on my side.
“You wanted my panties off, Kelcie?” she yelled. “Here!” She angrily shimmied out of them, balling them up, then rolled me over and stuffed them in my mouth. “There you go! Choke on them!”
I angrily spit her underwear out, pushing her away and getting up to my feet. We circled for a second wordlessly before Alyssa shot forward with another kick aimed between my legs. With the memory of the crippling pain I’d experienced after her previous crotch hits fresh in my mind, I reached for her ankles, realizing far too late she’d faked me out as she instead came in and buried her left fist in my belly.
It occurred to me as I flopped forward and smashed into the mats on my chest that I was in trouble. I had been counting on an experience edge to carry me against my younger, more in-shape opponent, but she sure knew what she was doing, a point that was driven home as she lifted one of her feet and stomped down hard on the back of my head.
I was in very bad shape as Alyssa rolled me over, my vision swimming off the stomp, my lungs still struggling to refill my body, my belly aching off the punch. The only good news was that she must’ve decided I was no threat for the time being, glaring down at me for a second before leaving me laying there on the mat as she got up and walked over to the toy chest.
I felt a little thrill of both excitement and fear as she flipped open the lid and reached inside, wondering what she was going to get, torn between relief and disappointment to see her turn around holding only the ball gag. She walked briskly back over to me, sat down on my midsection, and stuffed the ball into my mouth.
“You know what, Kelcie? I’m tired of hearing you speak,” she growled, roughly cinching the gag up tight. “Now try and spit that out!”
“Tag diff off,” I managed, already drooling around the red rubber ball.
“What?”
“Tag- off - ”
“Oh, please. Do you know how long I’ve been waiting to get that on you?”
Before I could guess, she drew her right hand back and slapped me shockingly hard across the face. She went for the backhand, but the pain of the hit focused my mind and I grabbed her hips, heaving her off me to the side.
We both scrambled to our knees, too close to get all the way up, lurching forward, grabbing each other’s hair. My younger opponent’s height and strength advantages paid off for her as she was able to pull my head back and down, until I went over with her on top of me, her warm body pressing down on top of mine.
“Bitch!” she yelled in my face. I tried to yell back at her, but with the gag it just came out as a low, angry slurry of mffmgmf sounds. But I think she got the idea anyway as I returned her earlier slap, turning Alyssa’s head as my palm cracked off her cheek.
Alyssa turned her head back to stare down at me, her eyes full of furious thunder. She leaned up a bit, enough to get her hands between us, grabbing my breasts, and I screamed against the gag as she tried to rip my boobs off my body.
I knew I couldn’t pull her hands away, and instead counter-attacked, grabbing her own hanging tits and pulling as hard as I could. My position on the bottom actually helped me, as it was easier to get the punishing grip I wanted on her boobs. Of course, her strength advantage meant she could apply more force, and for a few moments I found myself wondering if she was going to be able to actually rip my tits off.
She wasn’t. Both of us were hurting, but I could tell Alyssa was hurting worse as she started crying, her tears pattering softly down on my cheeks. I’d learned the hard way how to inflict a lot of pain with this hold, and it was too much for Alyssa, who released my own aching tits, instead grabbing my wrists and pulling my hands away from her chest, pinning me down to the mat.
Alyssa stared down at me, not breaking eye contact as I tried and failed to buck her off, thrusting my hips up off the floor without any effect. When that didn’t work I tried lifting my wrists, but she kept them held securely. Slowly, she moved up, until the top of my head was even with her shoulders-
Oh, shit. She was going to do a titsmother! I leaned up to try and start sucking on her boobs, but of course with the gag in place all I managed to do was bump it against her left breast.
“Too late, Kelcie,” Alyssa told me, her voice low and raspy. She finished lowering herself down, trapping me in the titsmother.
Oh, shit. I struggled frantically, but I couldn’t move Alyssa off me, couldn’t breathe, my world a crushing, black, airless prison as I kicked and bucked under my opponent. I only had one chance now, going still and limp, trying to play possum to get Alyssa to climb off me before I passed out. The fear of losing danced with the submissive excitement of what she might do to me if I lost as I began drifting off into the halfway between consciousness and oblivion.
I managed to hold on. It was close - the darkness between my tormentor’s breasts became a red-tinged, pulsing sea of ink before she leaned up, and I had to fight down the urge to take a huge breath, keeping my eyes closed and my breathing regular as Alyssa examined me.
“Kelcie?” I heard from far away. Don’t move. “Kelcie, are you awake?” she tapped my cheek lightly. When that brought no response, I felt her climb off me. I waited a few seconds, then carefully cracked one eye open.
Alyssa was over by the toy box, the lid open, rooting through it, thinking she’d won and ready to take her prize. I got up into a three-point stance, silent, took as deep a breath as I could with the gag on, and charged.
My opponent was too busy looking through the toy box to even hear my approach, and I slammed into her, my shoulder smashing into her back as she howled in surprise. The impact knocked Alyssa half into the box, her stomach resting on the lip. I grabbed the lid and slammed it down as hard as I could.
Alyssa was hurt, sliding out of the box, covering her stomach and moaning. I got the strongest grip I could on her short bob, lifted her head up, and smashed her face down onto the lid.
Alyssa was hurt badly now, sliding down to the floor, laying there moaning unhappily, one hand over her belly, the other covering her nose and mouth. I judged that I had enough time to get the gag off, reaching back to unhook it before throwing it on top of the box and taking a deep breath through my mouth.
“Kelcie,” Alyssa croaked. “I am going to fuck you up.” Her threat came out sounding tired and defeated, and I didn’t bother responding. I kept one eye on Alyssa as I started going through the box, looking for a specific tool to use on her.
Here it was - I lifted a large, magic wand Hitachi vibrator out of the toy chest. Alyssa flinched as I turned to her, apparently thinking I was going to whack her over the head with it.
“Relax,” I purred, climbing on top of her, sitting low on her stomach, pinning her arms to her sides with my thighs. “You’re going to love this.” I turned the vibrator to the lowest setting, running it over my victim’s left breast, savoring her high gasp as the stimulation began washing over her.
“Fuck,” Alyssa gasped. “Get off me.”
“Not unless you say the safe word.” I let that thought hang in the air over the low buzz of the vibrating tip pressing against my opponent’s hardening nipple. “Unless you say it, you’re mine, Alyssa. I am going to make you scream.”
“Fuck you!”
“Mm hmm,” I switched to the other breast, the vibrator working on one, gently cupping the other, teasing her nipple.
Alyssa tried to buck me off, but my seat was secure, my sexual attack not even slowing down as she struggled underneath me, grunting with effort, trying to push her hips up off the mats. She eventually admitted defeat, laying flat with a moan as I switched breasts again.
“Enjoy this while you can,” she grumbled.
“Oh, I am.” I leaned down, taking one hard little bud between my lips, keeping the vibrator pressed against the other.
“You just fucking wait,” Alyssa moaned. “I’m going to do this to you, Kelcie!”
“Mmm,” I agreed around her nipple.
“I am going to pin you to the floor,” she went on, “I’m going to fuck your brains out until you scream my name, then I’m going to flip you over and fuck your ass for this! You hear me, Kelcie?”
“Keep going,” I leaned up to grin. “That’s pretty hot.”
She was good and worked up now, her nipples diamond-hard, her face and chest flushed with a mix of embarrassed anger and arousal. I smelled victory - all it would take is getting the vibrator against her pussy and I didn’t think she’d last long, and after experiencing the kind of shattering climax I had in mind for her, she wouldn’t have any gas left to fight me.
Now how to get Alyssa into position to finish her off? I was facing the wrong way, and although it would only take a second to swivel around, that would be enough for my opponent to toss me off or push up off the floor.
Well, I was just going to have to do the best I could working blind, reaching back with the vibrator, aiming between her legs. I felt the tip press against something, but I thought I was too high, and sure enough a second later Alyssa deadpanned: “Wow, Kelcie, you’re going to make my stomach cum!”
I moved my target down, but Alyssa had closed her legs. With a sigh I realized I’d missed my chance - there was no way to force the tip where I wanted it now unless she opened her legs, and I couldn’t think of how I’d get her to do that, since she must know it would lead to her cumming and probably losing the match.
Well, there was nothing else to do but get up. I was angry at missing my chance to end the fight, frustrated at having come so close, and Alyssa wasn’t helping as she got up with a smirk: “What’s the matter, Kelcie? Did you think you’d finish me off that easily? I’d just lay there and cum like some little slut?”
“Yes,” I snarled, putting the vibrator down.
“Oh, too bad,” Alyssa went on, her voice dripping with condescending sarcasm. “You couldn’t finish me off, you couldn’t save your home-”
Ah - she was trying to make me angry again. I screwed my most pissed-off snarl on my face as she kept taunting me, letting my hands dip down just slightly out of position. As we edged towards each other I baited the hook a little bit more: “You’re just Real Estate Barbie,” I spat angrily. “Just a kid playing with daddy’s money-”
Here it came, a lightning-fast left jab, my opponent’s fist sailing at my unprotected face, followed no doubt by a heavier right to the body I could see her already shifting her weight for. I surprised her by moving forward, under the blow, targeting her exposed midsection. No time for a punch, I turned my arm, elbow out first, driving the hard tip into Alyssa’s stomach.
I could tell I’d gotten her just right from the sound of the wet gasp that burst out of her mouth. Alyssa took a half step back, eyes wide, mouth hanging open, then collapsed in slow motion to the floor, panting, drooling into the mats.
No time to waste! I grabbed the vibrator, rolled Alyssa onto her back, and sat down between her thighs, using my own legs to prop hers open. I pressed the tip of my weapon against her pussy, my opponent finding enough air to moan as I turned it on the lowest setting.
“Fuck,” Alyssa mumbled. I had some ground to make up from the belly hit that had floored her, but I resisted the temptation to come on too strong, slowly turning up the power, trying to find the right amount of stimulation to keep Alyssa from fighting back.
I wasn’t that lucky - her fighting spirit came back with her breath. She sat up, wrapping both hands around the vibrator and trying to wrench it out of my hands. Before I realized what I was doing I slid forward, pinning the vibrator between our crotches, moaning lewdly as the strong sensation washed over me.
Alyssa could still escape by just moving backwards. I decided if she did that she’d be chickening out: “Come on, think you can make me cum first?” I challenged her, pressing my hips forward, driving the tip hard against her pussy. I knew I had her when she pressed back, growling low in her throat, grinding the vibrating tip back against me in turn.
We trash talked each other as the match came down to this most intimate contest.
“You’re going to cum your fucking brains out for me,” I told her. “Then I’m going to get one of the strapons from the toy chest - ooh,” I gasped as she angled her hips up, driving the vibration up towards my clit. “Fuck! - then I’m going to screw your brains out!”
“Keep dreaming,” Alyssa panted back. “You worn out old slut. I’m going to make you cum, then I’m going to sit on your face and dream about my wonderful new building while you eat my pussy!”
Ultimately I had my head start and experience going for me, but I think Alyssa’s pride is what really spelled her doom - she just couldn’t face up to the fact that I was going to out-fuck her until it was too late.
I saw her break, laying back, fingers digging into the mats, her moan building into a crescendo until she was screaming her climax so loud I wondered if the windows would shatter, her body convulsing as I made sure she was finished, aggressively driving the tip against her pussy, feeling the resistance leave her body as she came down from her climax.
I reached between us and shut the vibrator off, the sudden silence broken only by our heavy breathing. I was close enough to want very badly to finish myself, but I forced that down; all in good time. I climbed onto my opponent’s sweaty stomach, reaching back behind me, my index finger and thumb on her clit, the other three fingers formed into a claw I rested lightly on her pussy.
“A-ly-ssaaaaa,” I made her name into a little song. “I take it you want to give up now?” I gave her just the lightest squeeze, enough to know I meant business but not enough to hurt.
“Yes!” Alyssa yelped, her eyes flying open.
“You’re sure. You know what that means?”
“Yes,” she repeated, her voice low and tired.
“Hmmm,” I purred. “That means I get to do whatever I want to you now, doesn’t it?”
“Yes,” Alyssa said a third time, visibly less upset at me doing whatever I wanted with her than losing her building project.
I climbed off her, humming happily as I walked over to the toy box. I rooted through the chest until I found what I wanted - a double-sided strapon dildo. I loved these things; one end went in the girl I was fucking, the other end inside me, letting me feel every thrust, every movement of her hips back against me. The model I pulled out was large, smooth, and black, attached to a black leather harness I slid into and fastened up with practiced ease.
I walked back over to where Alyssa had sat up, a smile on my face as I stroked my cock. I reached down to caress her hair for a second before tugging her head forward. She got the idea, wrapping her lips around my fake cock, grabbing my hips as she started sucking my dick. Her oral action translated through the strapon into a wonderful, subtle kind of wiggling.
“Fuck,” I sighed. “That feels great. You can be a little rougher.”
Alyssa obeyed, her head flying up and down my shaft. I heard myself moan, staring down at the erotic image of my beaten opponent sucking me off.
“Ooh,” I moaned. This was wonderful, but I didn’t want to finish just off this. “All right, that’s enough. All fours now.”
Once again Alyssa obeyed, spinning around, getting on her hands and knees, presenting herself to me. I was feeling wonderful, having saved my home, won the fight, and about to get the icing on the cake as I took up position behind her, grabbing her hips, stopping for a second to look out over her at the night skyline, the lights coming on in the tall buildings.
“I’ve heard winning is the best aphrodisiac,” I told Alyssa as I lined my cock up with her entrance. “But I think you’ll end up liking losing just fine.” Before pushing in, I checked her with my hand to see if she’d need any lube. She didn’t.
I slowly moved forward, thrusting into Alyssa, bottoming out as she moaned. I knew from using devices like this that deep strokes provided the most sensation, and I kept them short as I started fucking her, gasping with every thrust I drove home.
Damn, it felt good to win. I hoped Mr. Winslow, whenever and wherever he was watching this, was having half as much fun as I was. I knew Alyssa was enjoying herself, her body rocking with each thrust, moaning, her legs shaking as I fucked her.
We were right up against the window, Alyssa staring at her own reflection in the glass. It was a magical moment - the view out over the city, the view of Alyssa, the soft slap of my thighs against Alyssa’s rear, our panting and moaning, the obscene wet sound of the strapon moving in both of us, the insistent feeling of the dildo pushing a back against each thrust-
“Fuck!” I gasped. “Fuck!” I picked up the pace, harder, rougher, seeking more sensation, helped along as Alyssa submitted herself to me completely, lowering her head until her face rested on the mats, moaning into the floor with each stroke I drove home.
I approached the edge, cresting it, entering Heaven, my entire body feeling like it was melting down into the pure pleasure of my pussy, finishing with a few last ragged thrusts. There’s really nothing like victory fucking your opponent after a catfight; they should’ve sent a poet.
Finished, I leaned back, then laid down, staring up at the ceiling, enjoying the glow of my post-climax. Not bad for a night’s work, I decided. I sat up slowly to see Alyssa sitting on the mats, her chin resting on her knees, arms around her legs.
“Kelcie,” she stirred, seeing me. “Mrs. Hernandez-”
“Alyssa. Did you cum again?”
“No.”
I rolled over on my back: “Climb on.”
Alyssa hesitated for a second - if she didn’t want to, I wasn’t going to make her, but before I could tell her this she started moving, climbing on as I’d instructed. She straddled me, reaching down to part her lower lips before impaling herself, slowly sliding down with a lewd moan.
“What a view,” I purred, looking up at Alyssa as she started riding me. She was eager to get to the top of the mountain, hard and rough from the get-go, her tits bouncing as her hips flew up and smashed down. I wriggled on the mats, the sensation translated through the strapon light on the way up but intense on the down-stroke.
I stared up at Alyssa, her eyes closed, mouth hanging open, flushed, trying to etch the image into my memory, a sight I never wanted to forget. I didn’t have long, Alyssa reaching down to tease her clit with one hand, the other cupping one breast, her moans building into a scream, a bestial how of “Fuuuuuucccccckk!!” as she came on my cock.
That was all - neither one of us had anything left. We got up, went to the bathroom, showered, and got dressed. I headed back to my apartment to resume my search for a roommate, looking up Alyssa’s email address and asking her if she wanted to apply. I never did hear back.
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