On the morning before the duel – in my mind that was what I was terming it – Donna sent Ashley a picture of herself, flexing her right arm, topless but nipple off-camera, with the accompanying message: “the arm that will crush Katie 🙂 looking forward to our good time tonight sweetheart”. Ashley didn’t have to ask; I stripped my top off and did the same pose, with Ashley taking the picture for me at the same angle, and she accompanied it with the message: “This is what I have to look forward to every day 🙂 I believe she’ll beat you with this.”
Donna then continued the battle of wills. The next picture was of her sculpted, ridged abdomen, featuring a belly-button piercing. “Tight and ripped, just for you darling. XOXO.” Ashley sent back one of my abdomen. I was a bit self-conscious about it, because I hadn’t been dieting down, and my abs definition wasn’t spectacular. The lines were visible, but I also had noticeable belly fat. Still, Ashley sent the picture with the message: “Impressive, but I like Katie’s better.”
It didn’t take long before a reply came: “Mine are way hotter. You can touch them and see for yourself, after I beat her.” Then another picture, this one of her legs, from a top-down perspective. She was wearing only a pair of thongs. The message with this one was corny: “thunder thighs will crush Katie’s. BOOM!”
She had to take selfies, because clearly she didn’t have a loving girlfriend to take pictures for her, I couldn’t help thinking smugly. But as I looked at the triple-teardrop of her quadriceps and her sizeable calves, I felt less smug. They were… better legs than mine, in terms of both muscle mass and definition.
As if sensing my thoughts, Ashley dropped to her knees and began caressing my thighs gently. “I still love your legs much better, love. You know I do, right?”
“Yes, but you’re biased.”
“Always,” she said, kissing my quadriceps. “Now let’s get you in a pair of thongs and send our response picture,” she said, winking suggestively.
She took a picture of my legs with me standing up and angling them for best effect. Thanks to my heavy deadlifting, my hamstrings were rather impressive, even if I did say so myself – thick and curvy. Ashley sent it with the accompanying message: “These are the legs that make me go weak at the knees. I’m aroused just by the thought of seeing them beat yours. I’m looking forward to it tonight. Good luck, Donna. You will need it.”
And that concluded our psychological warfare, because we didn’t get any more picture attacks from her. Ashley concluded that we’d successfully psyched her out. “Score one for Team Katie!” she said, doing a cute little fist pump.
I grabbed her fist with my hand and gave her a sly smile. “Tonight, I’m scoring this one…” She got a glint in her eyes. Of course she knew what I meant.
“I’m really looking forward to it, my love,” she said, her smile widening.
We had skipped the previous night’s lovemaking, settling just for spooning and cuddling in bed. Holding her warm body so close to mine always got my heart racing and my endorphins surging to euphoric levels, but neither of us wanted to chance it. There wasn’t much hard evidence at all to support why athletes ought to abstain from sex before a competition, for sure, but I wasn’t willing to risk not being at my top form for my duel with Donna. Besides… the sexual energy building up between us could only serve as extra motivation for me.
Still, by evening, we were necking and kissing furiously, me on the kitchen chair and her perched on my lap. She was mumbling semi-coherent words of encouragement into my ears, and I was murmuring reassurances to her in turn.
About an hour before, I was stretching and limbering up, trying to quell the jitters I was feeling. It was akin, in some small way, to the last time I took part in a local CrossFit competition, way before I had met Ashley. I was up against about a dozen other women from around the region. I did pretty well for myself, finishing around the middle of the charts, but it was the first time I had performed the various exercises in a competitive setting, in public. The stakes were low that time – I had been competing for myself, just for fun, really.
But as Ashley sat down with me, helping me to apply makeup – “war paint”, she playfully called it, but that was exactly what it was – I felt as if the stakes were so much higher than any public competition. I sat quietly in front of the mirror in our room as she carefully applied my sweat-proof foundation for me, with a bit of eyeshadow, and the red, red lipstick we saved only for bedroom play (because neither of us wore red lipstick kind out in public – she didn’t even wear lipstick, usually). Then she helped me out of my clothes, so that I was wearing only a pair of tiger-stripe thongs – we had a matching pair, for jungle roleplay, and I had given her the pick of my attire for tonight.
“Because I want you to fight wildly and passionately for me,” she had said, with her cheeky tuzla escort wink, and I had wholeheartedly agreed.
She began to oil me up, with baby oil, rubbing it into my skin with her soft yet strong fingers. My breathing slowed to match hers as her hands travelled all over my body… down my arms, down my sides, pressing into my firm upper chest, cupping the swells of my modest B-cup breasts, down my thick muscled trunk, along the curves of my thighs, and finally down to the lumps of my calves. I gleamed all over. I looked formidable.
Ashley knelt down beside me. She was wearing only a strapless bra, and I knew her immodesty was just for my pleasure and extra motivation. Her eyes shone as she took in the sight of my nearly-naked body, the product of her loving ministrations. She swallowed a few times. “My panties are soaked,” she said.
I pointed to my barely-there thongs and how wet they already were. “No point changing into another pair, for me. It’d just get soaked right through again.”
She chuckled, and bit her lip. I took her face in my hands, and was about to bend down and kiss her, when the doorbell rang.
“She’s here,” Ashley said. Donna was about 10 minutes early.
“She’ll want some time to get ready. You can go help her get set up in the living room. I’ll come out when you come back here and tell me it’s time.”
She cocked her head and smiled faintly. “You trust me alone with her out there? She’s going to be in the same state of undress as you are, in just a while.”
“Silly question. Do you still have to ask if I trust you with another sexy, strong woman who’s into you and whom you have some good feelings about, and who wants to win a lovemaking session with you by beating me in a strength contest? Why wouldn’t I?”
She blew me a kiss as she walked out the door and to the living room, and I heard her greet Donna, politely enough. Donna sounded rather more enthusiastic. There was a moment, and then Ashley said audibly, “I’m sorry, Donna, but you can’t do that with me. Those were the terms. Please adhere to the conditions we agreed upon.”
I smiled to myself. Trusting her alone out there with another woman? I trusted her with my life.
Then I took a few deep breaths. This was it…
It seemed that only moments later, Ashley was at the door. “It’s time, love,” she said softly.
And right before I stepped out of the room, she slipped in and kissed me on the cheek. “Please win,” she breathed. I kissed her back on the cheek.
Then I walked out to meet my rival for the first time.
She was already undressed for our duel, in the same way I was, and she was pacing around, doing arm and shoulder stretches. Her thongs were, naturally, camou patterned. Our eyes met, and we stood stock still, only our eyes moving in mutual appraisal.
She had about an inch or more over me in height… and she was more muscular than me, all over. She had broader shoulders, thicker arms, more ripped legs. Her midriff was, as the picture had shown, more defined than mine. Her pectoral muscles were more developed than mine, too – they were like meaty slabs supporting her obvious boob job – spherical D-cups.
I was curvier in the right places, but that wouldn’t really help me win. I was definitely the underdog in this duel, and judging by the way her lips started to curl in a smile, she was thinking the same thing.
We started walking towards each other, and stopped a few steps away, both of us unconsciously folding our arms. “Katie,” she said, inclining her head. “We meet at last.”
“Donna,” I replied. “Good to put a face to pictures.”
She cracked a grin. “Did Ashley like those? I hope they spiced things up for her.”
I chuckled, and said, “You do know that’s the main reason you’re here tonight? To spice up our sex life. And not because we needed it, even. Just because I thought it’d be a good idea to show you why you don’t go after my girl.”
“I like your girl,” Donna said, her Southern twang coming out a little more strongly. “And I know she likes me too… I’ll show you, soon enough.” She let her arms fall, and took a deep breath, making the muscles on her bare torso shift. “I’ve been dreaming about kissing those sweet lips of hers,” she said, throatily. “And the rest of her, besides.”
I took a step nearer. “If you want any of that, you’re going to have to go through me.”
We had a stare-off. She smirked. “I see you dolled yourself up all pretty and nice. Maybe you’re a little subby yourself? Maybe you’re a lipstick in secret, hm?”
“Not even close. She put this on for me, because she thought I’d look good like this, and I do anything for her.”
“Think you can beat me for her?”
“I’m sure I can.”
She flexed her arms. “Beat this guns?”
I flexed mine too. “Yeah.”
Just like that, the atmosphere had become charged. My pussy was practically dripping wet – the fluid was flowing down my inner thighs already, tuzla escort bayan and my clit was pulsing. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Ashley biting her lip and touching herself through her pants. Part of me was glad she got to enjoy this scenario, however it would play out. This was as exotic as it was likely to get, for us. She’d get to have two Amazonian women comparing muscles and tussling for her affections – every girl ought to feel like such a prize once in a while, perhaps.
“Let’s get started, then, shall we?” Donna said. I assented, and we slowly drew apart, breathing more quickly now. I sneaked a quick glance down and saw that Donna’s thongs had become wet through as well… and her clit was visibly engorged.
We moved over to the table and sat down across from each other, and Ashley moved to the middle between us. Donna reached across to me for a handshake, which after a moment I accepted. Her grip was firm, and I matched it, all the while holding her gaze steadily.
“May the stronger woman win,” she said. Corny, but in the current setting… very appropriate. I gave a stiff nod in response.
Then without breaking hand contact, we shifted our grip so that we hooked thumbs and pressed our palms together, slowly curling our fingers around each other’s hands. Ashley had done my nails as well, even though I usually kept them clipped short. They gleamed red under the kitchen light. Donna’s were chipped, and plain. Her palm was callused, like mine, but different. She’d clearly done heavy lifting as well, but different kinds from mine.
It felt a bit surreal. Me and Donna, in the kitchen belonging to Ashley and me, where we’d had countless meals; within this intimate setting, an intruder, an interloper, reeking with physical power, a potent sexual presence. And here I was, locking arms with this home invader, the both of us nearly naked, with Ashley watching by the side.
Then Ashley reached out and placed her tiny lovely hand on both of ours, and I banished all such thoughts from my brain. I was here to thump her arm down in front of Ashley. That was the end of it.
The moment Ashley lifted her hand, Donna gave a wild cry, and jerked hard on my arm. In an instant, she had me almost halfway down, before I frantically rallied. Ashley half-lifted her hands to her face, eyes wide open. I gripped the edge of the table with my free hand and clenched my teeth, exerting every ounce of strength I could to halt Donna’s progress.
Moments ticked past. My arm muscles were stretched out on full display before Ashley’s anxious eyes. She was standing to my left, so if I was to win I’d have to pull Donna’s arm down right in front of her. Right then, I couldn’t seem to do it. Donna’s surge of power had left me shaken and trying to rally, barely able to keep her at bay. At this angle, the strain was almost purely on my biceps.
Then Donna shifted her posture, which was a legitimate move, unfortunately, and got more of her shoulder into the action. My arm trembled and shook, and began to move down again, past the halfway point. I was groaning and grunting with effort by then, not caring how I looked with my face scrunched up with the sheer exertion. The sweat was beading on my face and on my bare torso. I was lucky my makeup wasn’t running yet, but soon it would.
30 seconds into the match, and I was on the verge of losing, almost three quarters of the way down, holding off Donna with my arm strength alone. Donna stuck her tongue out with the effort she was putting forth, but she was smiling. “Looks like Ashley’s lips are mine to kiss, honey,” she panted. Her shoulders rippled with power.
The taunt galvanized me. I began grunting and groaning even more loudly as I knuckled down and flexed harder than I’d ever done. Dimly, I thought I was maybe sounding like a she-bear. Unattractive, desperate growling noises, as I sat there, slowly losing an arm wrestling match right in front of my girlfriend. The shame was starting to make me flush. My whole body was rigid, every sinew taut. Donna was huffing and puffing away, but I had managed to stop her progress. I hadn’t managed to reverse any of it. I was on the verge of just giving up – my strained stretched muscles were crying for mercy.
Then a mental image came to mind – Donna kissing Ashley, while I slumped over the table, defeated. I shook my head violently, silently screaming “No!” to that thought. I couldn’t give in… just couldn’t.
“Come on, Katie!” Ashley blurted out, breaking her impartiality. “You can do it!” And she reached across and touched my left hand. I was clutching the table so hard with it, my knuckles were turning white.
Her gentle touch was like a jolt to my skin. I stared at our locked hands, Donna’s on top of mine, and I willed my hand to come up. From the intense way Ashley was staring at our hands too, I knew she was doing the same. It was almost as if it wasn’t just me against Donna, but us, the two of us, together.
But it still wasn’t escort tuzla enough.
I couldn’t overcome my physical limitations. Despite the way my heart thudded at the mere thought of Ashley… despite the way my veins pulsed with my love for her… despite the way my nerves tingled at her touch… Donna was just too strong for me. She took a deep breath, and gave one final sustained surge of force. I resisted for a few moments… then my arm muscles finally gave out. My hand smacked into the table.
We both slumped for a moment, Donna and me. Then Donna grinned from ear to ear, and threw up her arms in triumph. Ashley looked as crestfallen as I’d ever seen her. When she looked at me, her lower lip trembled slightly. I couldn’t hold her gaze for long – I looked away as Donna reached across to embrace Ashley with her brawny, sweaty arms. Ashley looked reluctant but resigned – a deal was a deal. She let herself be engulfed in a warm hug by the woman who had just outmuscled me.
“The deal was that you have to be watching, Katie,” Donna said, sounding out of breath but gleeful.
Unwillingly, I turned my face to them again. Ashley was passive, almost like a rag doll, as Donna gently cupped her face and brought her in for a full-on kiss. She closed her eyes, and I could see a little tear of reluctance leak out the corner. But she was a good girl. She kept to our bargain and tried not to flinch even when Donna moaned and cupped one of her breasts. Her fingers trembled on the table. This wasn’t trauma, exactly… it wasn’t forced, it wasn’t non-consensual. But it was, she told me later, one of the most emotionally intense moments she’d ever had in her life.
“I mean, I had to accept a kiss and a grope from the woman who’d just defeated you, the love of my life,” she said then, “and it had to be done while you were watching. I could sort of feel your helplessness, because I was feeling the same thing, and I knew how you were feeling then.”
I asked her then if the whole thing had been ok, and she replied with her signature response that always told me just how much she loved me, “It is more than ok.”
Donna looked satisfied and sated for only a few brief moments after she finally broke the kiss. Then the hunger came back to her eyes, as she drank in the sight of Ashley’s pale, almost glow-in-the-dark complexion, set off by the black strapless bra she was wearing and her dark jeans. Then she turned to look at me again. I could almost feel her thirst for victory over me. To get to Ashley, she was probably willing to dole out all the abuse and aggression she could, within the limits we had set.
“Next stop, pussy-town,” she smirked. “I brought a few of my own toys with me,” she said, gesturing to her duffel bag beside the door, “and I can’t wait to show my darling how a real woman uses them to make her cum.”
I rose to my feet. “Get through me first.”
She walked slowly around the table to stand chest to chest with me again, looking down at me, using her slight height advantage to try and intimidate me. “With pleasure.”
I gazed back steadily, my blood rushing in my ears. I could not afford to lose the next one. I had to be a better gatekeeper, or a personal nightmare was about to come true. And if it so happened she beat me… I couldn’t be sure that I wouldn’t raise hell about it. The spectre of defeat and humiliation was a darkness I had to war with. It would take every ounce of self-control I had not to rush Donna and turn our home, Ashley’s and mine, into a slaughterhouse.
For the next round, we both took a kitchen chair and dragged it out into the living room, and sat down facing each other. Donna smiled and moved her knees inside to the defensive position, “generously” allowing me to go first. I braced my feet against hers and we pressed our flexed calves together. Her legs felt so rock solid, like tree stumps. All three of us looked at our legs, now side by side for even easier comparison. She clearly had the legs of someone who did a lot of cardiovascular activity, in addition to fairly heavy lifting. The cords of muscle rippled all over. I, on the other hand, had a nice amount of muscle bulk on my legs, from squatting and deadlifting, but I was desperately wishing I’d spent much more time on the elliptical, or even outdoors, hiking. Donna’s muscular endurance would serve her very, very well indeed in this next contest.
Both our thongs were soaked through, with sweat and with other fluids. I could see that she was shaven, although it looked as though it had been about a week or so since she last shaved. Her clit was much more prominent than mine – I could actually see the little protuberance in the right place. My own clit felt engorged, but not nearly as visible. This was yet another way in which Donna’s raw sexuality felt as if it overpowered mine. Her muscles… her large silicone D-cups… and now her clit.
As we held each other’s gazes, our fists clenched by our sides while Ashley measured out the space between her knees with a ruler, I knew she felt the same way. I was resisting her domination with every ounce of willpower I could muster, but the odds favored her for victory, and the curl of her lips told me she knew it too.