Try as she might, every thought the blonde had, returned to where she was- flat on her back, her legs widespread under the brunette, to how she was –aroused by the brunette’ fingers and lips on her breasts, by the brunette’s pussy grinding her own, by the brunette’ whispering and cooing in her ear, by the brunette’s power and her own powerlessness. She had to last the five minutes, she had to, but how could she?
The brunette smiled, she knew how hot the blonde was getting, she felt the blonde squirm beneath her, the blonde’s fevered breath on her cheek, she knew the blonde couldn’t last. She knew when the blonde came she would hand her over to the guys and what a revenge that would be. Oh yes, she could hardly wait. And the building expectation was making her even hotter. She started to pant herself. She had cum so often and so hard already but she wanted, no she needed to reach orgasm again. And when she had and when the guys had had a few turns with the blonde, the blonde would be broken and she would have the blonde eat her out. She began to grunt as the sexual tension mounted. She pushed herself up for a moment supporting herself on her right arm and pinched the blonde’s nipple hard with her left thumb and forefinger. The blonde squealed. Quickly the brunette lowered herself and kissed the blonde. She knew that a bit of pain heightened the sexual rush, she knew the blonde was responding to what she was doing, she was sure she would win.
It would be so good to beat this bitch. She remembered the fight, how she had almost won when the blonde bit her, how for the next few minutes the fight ebbed and flowed, to outsiders she might have looked like winning- she had had the blonde on the sand often, but she knew she was tiring, she was sure now the blonde had played her, tired her out so the blonde could score that stamp on her belly- that winning move. She remembered again how the blonde had humiliated her, how in spite of herself she had got hot. She ground harder against the blonde’s pussy, feeling her own heat rise within her. She kissed the blonde, she licked the blonde’s tits one after the other
And then how she had taken the guys. How the blonde had arranged it. But how she had turned it to her advantage. How she had sucked and fucked. For all her protest at the time, she knew then and she knew now that the stocky guy was right- if she had won she would have put out just like he said. She had lost and had put out anyway. “Oh, oh, oh,’ she gasped.
And it was then the blonde saw a glimmer of hope; “the bitch is on heat, she is gonna cum too, if I can get her off before she makes me cum then perhaps then perhaps she’ll relax and I can roll her off.” She whimpered as the brunette’s finger stroked her nipple in some new way. She kissed the brunette, opening her mouth wide for the bigger woman’s probing tongue. She pushed her thighs up to meet the brunette opening her legs further yet and entwining them round her enemy’s thick strong thighs.
The stocky guy smirked, he was going to get the blonde, he was sure she wouldn’t last, no way- not when she was panting, not when she was whimpering, not when she was responding to the big bitch. Her ass was his, and handed to him on a plate by the brunette whore. “Cuz” he thought “the brunette is a whore, she put out for so many guys. She’d been gangbanged before…many times.” He knew as he stood watching, counting the time, that he wanted the brunette too. He nudged his friend the taller dark haired man “She’s only got a bit more than two minutes more. But she can’t last that long, I give her a minute or less.”
The tall man looked down, sure enough the blonde was almost cumming, he could tell. But so was the brunette. He had seen the fight from the beginning, he had seen how the brunette picked it, sure the blonde had run into her but the brunette wasn’t looking where she was going, and she responded so aggressively the blonde had to stand her ground or be humiliated. No, he thought, the brunette had wanted the fight. And he had cheered the blonde, she was better looking than the chubby brunette, she was in the right, and she looked just as slutty, just as trashy as the brunette. And he had helped the blonde celebrate her victory, tossing the fat whore in the water had been fun. She had been so angry she had lost, so helpless.
He had stayed away from the group who had fucked her. He regretted that now. He had seen her put out, he had seen her body, clean from the water, become caked in cum, her hair matted with it. But he wanted more, he wanted to see her surrounded by men, with cock after cock spurting into her, coming on her face, on her huge soft tits, on her plump belly, in her hair, down her back. He wanted to see this and more because he knew she was such trash that she would moan and writhe and cum repeatedly.
And he wanted to see the blonde in charge again, just as she had been before. He wanted to see her humiliate the brunette, and he wanted to see her put out. He knew she would. His stocky friend was right, she was about to cum, but if she came now the brunette would win. He didn’t want that. He thought quickly, what to do, what to do?
|