Cold War Turned Hot

by Amateur


Brooke Burke (TV Host – E!'s Wild On, Rock Star: INXS)

Born: September 8th, 1971, Hartford, Connecticut, USA

Height: 5'8”; Weight: 110 lbs. (36C-22-34)


Irina Voronina (Playmate – Miss January2001)

Born: December 19 th , 1977, Dzerzhinsk, Russia

Height: 5'9.5”: Weight: 120 lbs. (35C-24.5-36)

Sometime during 2004…

Brooke and Irina hated each other. There is just no other way of putting it. They hated each other deeply and passionately, and had done so from the very first moment they had set eyes on each other several years ago at a Hollywood party.

Having grown up during the Cold war, Brooke still remembered all the stories she had read and heard in her formative years. Newspapers, television, radio, her parents – they had all played their part in making her loathe the Communist regime and everything even remotely connected to it. And Irina fell into just that category. Even though Communism in Russia was a thing of the past, Brooke considered Irina to be at least a by-product of it and that made her both dislike and despise the tall blonde. Also, she felt that Irina should stay in Russia and leave modeling to American women – although she had to admit grudgingly to herself that the bitch was hot.

For her part, Irina had never appreciated Brooke's contemptuous attitude towards her at all. An extremely proud woman, she had never let anybody try to put her down and was not about to make an exception for some washed-up American TV whore. She had wanted to teach the old cow a lesson or two pretty much from day one, and had had several opportunities to do it at various parties at which the two had come across each other here and there, but had somehow always felt that the brunette had not given her a good enough reason for it. That is, until the night when, at the house of a well-known actor celebrating his birthday, a slightly tipsy Brooke had called Irina a “Commi slut” (plus some other things) after the two had gotten into an argument.

Nobody likes being insulted, especially if they feel that the insult is undeserved. Half a second after Brooke's rather thoughtless comment, Irina's claws had come out and another three seconds later the two were rolling back and forth on the floor, pulling hair and slapping. And even though the fight was quickly broken up, both Brooke and Irina knew that this was far from over. The brief violent encounter had only served to increase the two women's hatred for one another and their desire to do something about it, and they were perfectly aware that sooner or later they would have to finish what they had started.

And finish it they certainly did, the very next time they met at one of Hef's parties at the Mansion. The very moment they saw each other, Brooke and Irina picked up right where they left off and the situation worsened steadily as the evening progressed until, after a particularly heated exchange of words, the two agreed that there was only one thing left to do. Only one way to settle this, once and for all.

They did not want to do it at the Mansion. After what had happened last time, they wanted to make sure that there would be no interferences of any kind and they would be able to finally put an end to the issue. Irina provided the solution by revealing that she had access to a secluded beach house and it was not long before the two were headed that way in Brooke's car, the party completely forgotten.

Once in the house's spacious living room, furniture was quickly cleared out of the way leaving them with some twenty by twenty feet of unobstructed parquet floor, which each woman felt was more than enough for her purposes.

As Irina stood in the middle of the room and motioned Brooke to join her, the American woman took her stilettos off and wriggled out of her dress, remaining clad only in a white lace thong. She did not see why she should let her dress get damaged in the fight. That seemed like a good idea to Irina as well and she quickly stripped down to a black lace bra and a matching thong. A brief moment of thought, and she took off the bra too, which left her at level pegging with her opponent.

They moved forward and stood face to face, sizing each other up, both ready to do battle.

Brooke was sure she was going to win. She was giving away an inch and a half in height and a few pounds in weight to her opponent, and was six years older than the blonde, but none of that worried her any. She kept in great shape through vigorous workouts, plus she had been in some fights over the years, and she was absolutely positive that the combination of great physical conditioning and fighting experience would allow her to easily pound the younger woman into the floor. Nothing to be bothered about there.

What DID bother Brooke, was the fact that, for some reason, she could not help but find Irina attractive; the tall, leggy blonde's lithe, curvaceous body and her sensual face with its thick, pouty lips were like a magnet to the TV host's eyes – she just could not stop staring. No. No way, Brooke thought as she suddenly caught herself thinking that she would not mind at all “playing” a little with the Russian Playmate. At least – not yet. First things first; kick her ass, and THEN suck on it if you still feel like it.

On the other side, Irina's thoughts ran along remarkably similar lines. Just like Brooke, she worked out a lot and was in fantastic shape. And she too had been involved in several fights back in high school – and a few more since – and knew how to take care of herself. And, of course, she was taller and heavier. She just did not see herself having any difficulties in beating the brunette to a pulp. Pity, she's kind of hot, the blonde said to herself. It'll be a shame to mess up that face. Looking at Brooke, Irina unexpectedly found herself starting to get turned on. Yes, why not, she thought. Right after she has beaten the bitch into submission, she would screw her brains out as well; show her what a real woman could do. She smiled wickedly as she thought about it. Soon, whore, very soon…

“C'mon, bitch!” Brooke said suddenly, after a lengthy period of time had elapsed without either woman making a move. “What's the matter, scared already?”

“Scared of what? You?!” Irina's full lips twisted in a derisive smile as she moved forward so that their bodies were almost touching: “I see nothing here that can scare me, grandma.” She added, looking contemptuously at Brooke, who stared right back.

“Don't worry slut, you will. I'll take care of that! ” The sexy brunette said evenly, and then all hell broke loose.

Almost simultaneously the two women reached out with both hands, grabbed hold of each other's hair and started pulling back and forth with all their might, cursing and groaning as they staggered around the room. The taller, slightly heavier Irina succeeded in driving Brooke backwards and shoved her against a wall, where she tried unproductively to knee the brunette in the stomach. Brooke quickly pushed herself off the wall and managed to force Irina backwards, towards the middle of the room again. She then yanked the Russian beauty to one side, hard, and tripped her, which brought both of them down to the floor. They rolled over a few times in a tangle of limbs before coming to a halt – Brooke on top. The American woman tried to straddle her opponent, but Irina quickly picked up one leg and managed to get her knee against Brooke's chest, pushing her away.
They got up on their knees facing each other, and as they did so, Brooke immediately reached for her opponent's hair with her right hand. Irina quickly pushed Brooke's arm aside with her left hand and almost at the same time used her right hand to slap the American across the face. Brooke groaned and tried to respond with a slap of her own, but Irina was expecting just that; she easily ducked under Brooke's sweeping arm and then slapped her in the face again. Brooke snarled and latched onto Irina's golden locks with both hands, shaking the Russian woman's head to and fro. Irina screamed and responded in kind, burying her fingers in Brooke's long, dark tresses and pulling as hard as she could.
The hair pulling contest turned out to be a stalemate, and after a few moments both women decided that they had had enough of it. Brooke drew her right hand back and slammed her fist straight into Irina's left breast, flattening it against the ribcage. Irina's groan was almost instantly echoed by one from Brooke as the blonde's right fist struck the side of the American's head, causing her to stagger.

The two broke apart and scrambled to their feet glaring at one another. They began circling around, neither woman seeming too eager to make a move. Their opening clash had revealed to both of them that they were quite evenly matched in strength and speed, and now each one seemed reluctant to attack, somewhat fearful of making a mistake and giving the other an opening.

At last, after nearly a minute of tense waiting on both sides Irina lost her patience and reached for Brooke's hair, but Brooke quickly put a stop to that by driving her knee into the Russian woman's stomach, doubling her over. The brunette then turned around and got Irina in a tight headlock keeping her bent down. Irina reached down, grabbed one of Brooke's legs and started pulling and at the same time lurched sideways, which brought both women down to the floor. Brooke kept her hold though, and tightened it further, causing the trapped Irina to groan in pain as she struggled to break free.

“You give, bitch?” Growled the American beauty, while holding her opponent face-down on the floor: “Huh? You give?”

Groaning, Irina grabbed a handful of Brooke's hair and yanked as hard as she could. Brooke let out a loud moan as her neck was wrenched backwards. She tried to tighten the headlock even more in the hope of forcing Irina to let go of her hair, but the Russian Playmate only pulled harder, while squirming back and forth violently. Ultimately, Irina was able to wriggle out of her rival's hold and wasted little time in getting on top of Brooke. Keeping the American flat on her belly and still holding on to her hair, Irina leaned forward, pressing Brooke's face hard into the polished wood. Brooke let out a yell and bucked wildly, throwing the other woman off of her back. She then quickly rose on her knees and pounced on the surprised Irina, managing to straddle her and pin her down. Lying on her back, the Russian writhed and squirmed in an attempt to unseat her foe, but it was no good.

“Fuckin' slut!” Brooke hissed, reaching for Irina's hair with both hands.

Irina managed to grasp Brooke's wrists and held on to them while continuing her struggles to break loose. That did not worry the American woman any. She knew that being on top, she had the better position and there was nothing her pinned rival could do to hurt her. Also, she had all the time in the world to do exactly what she wanted. Ignoring Irina's attempts to knee her in the back, she focused on freeing her right arm from the latter's grip and eventually succeeded in wrenching it free.

“Bitch!” The sexy Connecticut native said and slapped the pinned Russian beauty across the face as hard as she could. Irina groaned and tried to get hold of Brooke's arm, but the brunette hit her in the face again – this time with her fist. Irina cried out and tried to protect her face by placing her hands in front of it. With both her hands free now, Brooke grabbed Irina's hair and slammed the Russian's head against the floor. Irina moaned and struggled in vain to free herself.

“I got you now, cunt!” Brooke growled menacingly and prepared to slam the back of her opponent's head into the parquet again.

Irina shot out her left hand and grabbed the American woman's right breast, squeezing it as hard as she could. Brooke shrieked and jerked backwards trying to pull away from her opponent, but the Russian held on and continued to squeeze Brooke's breast, at the same time twisting it and digging her sharp fingernails deep into the supple flesh.

“AAAARRGH! LET GO, YOU FUCKIN' WHORE!!” Brooke yelled, squirming and hammering at Irina's face with both fists.

Irina did not let go. Instead, she grabbed her opponent's hair with her right hand and, still holding on to Brooke's breast with her left, she pulled sharply to the right with both hands. The brunette could not withstand the double assault on her breast and hair and finally toppled over onto her left side while desperately trying to pull Irina's hand off of her breast. Irina rose up and tried to straddle Brooke, but the latter quickly picked up her knees and used her legs to kick the Russian woman away.

Both women got up on their knees and lunged at one another, each with only one thing on her mind. Irina had enjoyed the feeling of Brooke's warm, pliant breast being crushed in her hand and the sound of the American's screams of pain, and wanted to experience some more of the same, while Brooke (who had definitely not enjoyed the feeling of her warm, pliant breast being crushed in Irina's hand, or the sound of her own screams of pain) simply wanted payback.

Four small manicured hands latched simultaneously onto four firm, juicy, naked boobs, and soon shrieks of rage and pain were echoing around the room as the two sexy young women tore into each other's abundant assets with all their might.

It was not very long before both women had tears in their eyes from the intensity of the pain, but still, neither of them seemed willing to stop or try to pull away from the other's clawing, mauling hands. The air was filled with both English and Russian choice words as the rivals tried to inflict as much pain and damage on one another, each wanting to prove that she is the better woman.

“Let… go… you fuckin'… CUNT!!” Brooke crowed, her voice tight with the strain as she gripped her rival's breasts as hard as she could and twisted them in opposite directions.

“You let go!” Irina answered grimacing in pain and pulled the American's tits upwards, then outwards, at the same time digging her thumbs into the rock-hard nipples, pushing them deep into the areolae and causing more pain for an already loudly groaning Brooke. Seeing that she was getting nowhere, Brooke now shifted the focus of her attack and grabbed Irina's erect, pink nipples between her thumbs and the sides of the second joints of her forefingers squeezing and twisting. The Russian woman threw her head back and let out a piercing shriek, nearly losing her grip on the American's breasts in the process.

“Give it up, bitch!” Brooke growled, squeezing even harder, trying to press on her momentary advantage.

But Irina would not give it up. She moved her hands to match Brooke's grip and now it was the American woman's turn to shriek and squirm in agony as her large, brown nipples were being squashed nearly flat between the Russian Playmate's fingers and thumbs. The mutual tit torture continued for a few more seconds, with both women screaming in pain and neither of them quite ready to quit. Then suddenly Irina began to twist and pull Brooke's nipples, stretching them – and the American's whole breasts – to their very limit. Brooke screeched and tried to respond in kind, but after a few short moments she decided that she had had enough; she swung her right fist and connected with the side of Irina's head sending the Russian woman reeling back and crashing to the floor with a loud groan. Brooke then quickly tried to get on top of her foe, but Irina lashed out with her right foot and kicked the brunette in the head, sending her down.

Both women got to their feet at the same time and faced one another breathing heavily.
“What's the matter, bitch? Did I hurt your little titties there?” Brooke asked snidely, seeing that Irina was holding her breasts in her hands.
Brooke's own breasts actually hurt worse than Irina's, but despite that (and even though she knew very well that she was the one who had quit the tit mauling contest first), Brooke could not resist the temptation to taunt Irina in the hope of getting some sort of a mental edge over the Russian beauty.

“Shut up, whore! I'll rip your implants out!” Irina snarled and charged her opponent.

Brooke threw a wild punch, missed, and got nailed in the stomach by Irina's left hand. The blonde then grabbed Brooke by the hair and shook her viciously to and fro, trying to take her down. The American woman squealed and kneed her opponent in the belly, making her grunt and double over.

“Bitch!” Brooke said and quickly got the taller woman in a front headlock.

Keeping her rival trapped and bent over Brooke began driving punch after punch into Irina's unprotected kidney area. Groaning, the Russian Playmate tried to pull away, but Brooke held on tight and continued to hurt her rival with punches to the kidneys. Irina screamed and suddenly pushed forward with all her strength, at the same time grabbing Brooke's left leg and pulling upwards. Brooke could not keep her balance and fell over backwards, but she still maintained her grip around Irina's neck and dragged the latter down with her, still keeping her trapped.

Lying on her back with Irina partially on top of her, Brooke now tried to wrap her legs around the Russian's waist but soon discovered that her left leg was trapped between Irina's legs and she could not move it. The American then decided on another strategy, and while Irina was wriggling and squirming on top of her in an effort to free herself from the headlock, she reached down, grabbed the back of the Russian woman's thong and yanked upwards, hard. The black lace cut painfully in Irina's crotch and she let out a loud wail as she struggled furiously to break free. Knowing that she was hurting her opponent, Brooke persisted with the “wedgie”, pulling with all her strength, but her fun was soon cut short as Irina's thong, which was not designed for that sort of treatment, simply tore apart, giving Irina a much needed respite.

Spitting out a few expletives in her native Russian, Irina plunged her left hand down the front of the American's white thong, her manicured fingernails easily finding their target. Brooke howled and released her headlock hammering at Irina's head with her right fist, while grabbing the Russian Playmate's left wrist with her other hand in an attempt to get Irina's clawing fingers away from her crotch. Irina snarled angrily and, getting up on her knees, she grabbed Brooke's panties with both hands pulling mightily until the panties were ripped right off of the American woman's body. Brooke screamed – more in anger than in pain – and, still lying on her back, she kicked the kneeling Irina in the head, sending her sprawling onto the floor.

The two battling beauties – both of them now completely naked – got up and glowered at each other, their lithe, sexy bodies glistening with sweat, their large breasts heaving up and down with their rapid breathing.

Brooke lunged forward and delivered a good, solid slap to the other woman's face. Irina groaned and immediately responded with a slap of her own which threw Brooke's head to one side in a cloud of long, dark hair. The brunette quickly recovered and grabbed Irina's hair with her left hand and used her right hand to slap her rival's left cheek three times in quick succession. Irina squealed and retaliated with a punch to Brooke's flat, firm belly, followed by another one – this time to the left breast. Brooke moaned and backed away holding her painfully throbbing breast.

The Russian woman charged her opponent and the two naked bodies collided with a loud slapping sound. Brooke could not keep her balance and went over backwards with Irina on top of her. Clinging to each other, they rolled all over the floor screaming and cursing and pulling hair and slapping, each woman doing her best – or worst – to gain the upper hand. Here, Irina's weight advantage played its part, eventually helping the Russian to get on top and stay there. Irina then decided to consolidate her position by sliding her body up and attempting to smother the American woman with her bare breasts. That was a mistake.

Brooke immediately snapped her head forward and sank her white, even teeth into Irina's right breast before it had covered her face. The Russian Playmate let out a shrill cry and instinctively jerked her body backwards, trying to pull away from Brooke's clamping teeth. Using her opponent's own momentum, Brooke heaved upwards and sideways and managed to roll Irina over and get on top of her.

“Fuckin' cunt!” Brooke growled while Irina squirmed and bucked beneath her: “I'll show you…” She tangled her right hand in the Russian beauty's golden tresses and jammed her left forearm across Irina's throat leaning on it with most of her weight. Irina gagged and started writhing furiously, at the same time pulling Brooke's hair with both hands in an attempt to force the American off of her. Brooke though, remained right where she was, continuing to grind her forearm into her foe's soft throat, cutting off Irina's air supply. Pinned underneath her American rival, Irina struggled desperately to free herself, her face turning red from the effort and lack of oxygen. Still holding on to Brooke's hair with her left hand she slammed her right fist into the side of Brooke's face – one, two, three times – and then raked her fingernails across the eyes of the Connecticut native. Brooke took the punches well enough, but the sudden assault on her eyes proved to be a little more than she could handle; she screeched and rolled off of Irina covering her eyes with her hands.

The two got to their feet and backed away from one another, each trying to regroup before the next move.

“Bitch!” Brooke whined, rubbing her watering eyes.

Momentarily blinded, the American woman was, right then, an easy prey, but the Russian beauty was unable to capitalize, being too busy gasping and coughing and massaging her sore throat.

Both women recovered relatively quickly, but it was Brooke who attacked first by springing forward and punching Irina squarely in the left breast causing the supple flesh to quiver briefly back and forth before getting back into its original shape. Irina groaned and replied with a hard slap to Brooke's face. The Russian woman then moved in close and drove a knee into Brooke's belly. The American doubled up with a grunt and was unable to prevent Irina from tripping her and sending her crashing to the floor.

“Whore!” Irina yelled in Russian as she kicked Brooke in the ribs and then dived in top of her, slapping and scratching. Brooke tied to protect herself with her hands, but Irina continued to hit her with heavy slaps to the face, occasionally pulling her hair and clawing her breasts. The American finally put a stop to this by latching on to Irina's full, firm, jiggling boobs with both hands, squeezing and twisting. Irina screeched and got hold of Brooke's wrists trying to push her hands away, but Brooke held on and gave the Russian's tits one mighty tug sideways, which caused Irina to topple over to her right.
Picking herself up, Brooke pounced on her prostrate opponent with a snarl and for the next minute or so the two beautiful, naked women wrestled on the floor with the intensity of two arch-enemies locked in mortal combat. Groaning and grunting with the effort, they rolled back and forth in a tangle of sweaty arms and legs, screaming and cursing at one another, as their lithe, strong, sexy bodies pressed and rubbed against each other and twisted and bucked and heaved, straining to their very limits in their struggle for supremacy.
Initially, they seemed to be quite evenly matched and it looked like anybody's fight as they kept rolling over and over, each woman getting on top of her rival one moment and finding herself underneath the very next, before managing to reverse the situation and get on top once more. Eventually though – and much to Irina's surprise and dismay – Brooke started gaining the upper hand. Slowly but surely, the American woman began to assert herself, driving forward relentlessly, overwhelming her Russian rival. She was not stronger than Irina by any means, but she seemed more determined, and also, her fighting instincts appeared to be sharper than the other woman's. She was not trying to pit her strength directly against that of Irina's, but did what she could to stay on the inside and attack from there. She was easily able to block all of Irina's attempts at fighting dirty, protecting her most vulnerable parts – eyes, throat, breasts and crotch – well. True, her own few underhanded tactics were thwarted just as easily by Irina, but she did not need them that much. She fought more efficiently than the blonde, calculating all her efforts carefully and therefore not expending as much energy as the Russian Playmate. Her strikes were clean and precise and they hurt Irina a lot more than the latter's counter-attacks hurt her, and she used that to her advantage. Every time Brooke scored with a slap or a punch, or was able to get her claws into some part of Irina's body, Irina got momentarily distracted and looked to protect herself against any eventual follow-ups. The Connecticut native cleverly used each one of those brief moments to get herself into a better position, which allowed her to be even more effective and hurt her opponent even more and secure an even more advantageous position from which to strike.

It was not easy – the tall, sexy Russian woman fought like a tigress every inch of the way, writhing and snarling and biting and slapping and kicking and scratching – but in time, Brooke was able to gain control of her foe. The brunette was now spending a lot more time on top and it was becoming increasingly difficult for Irina to roll her over. Having to constantly use up more and more of her energy merely to get out from underneath the other woman, the Russian beauty was tiring and weakening further and further with each second and was almost unable to mount any serious offensive. The two were now face to face on the floor, with their legs in a tangle as they were busy conducting a lively trade in slaps – each woman lying on her side and using one hand to pull hair, and the other to slap. The trade was hardly fair though: Brooke was outscoring her rival two to one, landing two slaps for each one she received from the rapidly tiring Playmate and, as if this was not enough, the American woman's shots were a lot cleaner and crisper and did a lot more damage than those of Irina's.

It was now quite obvious to both women that, unless something changed drastically – and soon – there was only one way that this fight would end. It was an ending that Irina did not like one little bit and was determined to avoid at any cost. She stopped trying to slap Brooke and allowed the latter to roll her over onto her back, where she lay with her hands held defensively in front of her face.

With her confidence at an all-time high, the American woman quickly straddled her opponent and grasped her wrists, convinced that the fight was over and all she had to do was to pin Irina's arms with her knees and extract a submission from the helpless Russian beauty.

Irina wrenched her arms violently, easily getting her sweaty wrists out of Brooke's equally sweaty hands and reached up grabbing Brooke's right breast with her left hand and using her right hand to claw at Brooke's face. Taken completely by surprise, the brunette shrieked and jerked back, her hands going up instinctively to protect her face. Irina bucked with all her strength and succeeded in throwing Brooke off.

Desperately needing some time to recover and regroup, Irina rolled over onto her stomach and, pushing herself up on her hands and knees she tried to scramble away from her opponent, but by doing that she offered her unprotected back to her opponent, which was a grave error.

Brooke, clearly not hurt at all, immediately rose up from the floor and was upon her foe in a flash, jumping onto Irina's back and forcing her face-first to the ground, at the same time wrapping her arms around the Russian woman's naked, glistening torso in a bear hug from behind. Gasping and moaning in her opponent's tight embrace, Irina struggled to free herself, but was unable to do so – Brooke was a lot stronger than her slim build suggested and was having no trouble staying on top, using all of her weight to keep Irina flattened to the floor.

For the next few moments the two women appeared to be deadlocked. Brooke had the better position, but was unable to use it to any great advantage. The bear hug was hurting Irina, but nowhere near enough to make her quit and Brooke was left regretting the fact that she had not managed to trap her opponent's arms in her hold. She knew that if she could only wrap her arms around the other woman's throat, it would all be over in no time, but Irina knew that as well and was holding on to the Brooke's forearms, while trying at the same time to break the American's embrace. Time and again Brooke tried to slide her arms up and get them around her foe's throat, and each attempt failed. She could not even get hold of Irina's breasts and hurt her there – Irina was gripping Brooke's wrists and at the same time had her elbows over Brooke's forearms keeping them pinned to her own body, just below the breasts.

“Fuckin' bitch!” Brooke panted, lying on top of her prone opponent.

Again the Connecticut native tried to free her arms and apply a choke hold on her rival, and again she was unable to do so. Her head was on a level with Irina's shoulder blades and, not quit knowing what else she could do to hurt her foe, she now drove her forehead into Irina's spine and then tried to bite the Russian Playmate's back. Irina groaned a little and writhed in a futile effort to throw her foe off.

“You give, bitch?” Brooke growled, squeezing with her arms as hard as she could.

“Fuck you, whore!” Irina replied, while continuing to struggle.

Brooke head-butted Irina in the back again, but Irina just cursed at her and kept on squirming, obviously unhurt. The American woman snarled and, in sheer frustration, began thrusting her curvy hips forward as hard as she could.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! There came loud sounds of skin slapping against skin as the front of Brooke's pelvis slammed repeatedly into Irina's firm, shapely, naked ass – an act that was as harmless physically as it was suggestive. The proud Russian beauty bellowed in humiliation and writhed furiously, trying to escape. She managed to roll to the right, rolling Brooke with her so that now both combatants were lying on their right side, but this did not change anything – Brooke's arms were still wrapped around the Irina's torso from behind and the American woman was continuing to buck her hips rhythmically, dry-humping her trapped Russian rival with all the energy she could find, and plenty of feeling to boot:

“You like that, huh? You like it, you fuckin' Communist slut?” Brooke kept yelling as she ground her mound into the other woman's ass, sweat-covered skin rubbing against sweat-covered skin.

“Let me go, whore!” The enraged Irina screamed in Russian , twisting and kicking wildly. This was the most demeaning thing that had ever happened to her and she had no intention of letting it continue. She reached around with her left hand and slid it along Brooke's tight, well-shaped ass…

Once she felt that her own left arm was free, Brooke instantly tried to wrap it around her opponent's throat, thinking that she really had Irina now. But, instead of sinking in her choke hold, the American woman let out a piercing shriek and her whole body jerked spasmodically backwards, her left hand reaching behind her. Irina had jammed her fingers into Brooke's exposed sex and was raking the delicate pink flesh with her sharp claws.

Still screeching at the top of her lungs, Brooke rolled along the floor, trying to get away from her foe. Irina instantly sprang to her feet and went after Brooke, kicking her in the ribs, twice. Brooke managed to block the third kick and rolled away from her attacker getting to her feet. Irina was really mad now, and charged forward, unleashing a barrage of punches to the American's belly and breasts, which forced Brooke to groan and back away until she was pressing against the wall. The two then traded a few blows, grunting and cursing until Brooke suddenly pushed herself off the wall and took Irina down to the floor where they began rolling around, screaming and slapping and pulling hair.

Unlike the previous time they had tangled in close combat though, Brooke was unable to gain the upper hand and, if anything, appeared to be at a disadvantage. Irina was strong and determined and absolutely infuriated by the humiliation Brooke had subjected her to just moments ago, and her anger seemed to give her extra strength. Fighting like a she-devil, the Russian Playmate took everything Brooke threw at her and kept coming back for more, and pretty soon Brooke found herself at the short end of it. Brooke tried to gain some momentum in the fight by latching onto Irina's left breast and digging her fingernails deep into it, while at the same time grasping Irina's hair with her free hand and shaking the Russian beauty's head back and forth. Irina responded by grabbing Brooke's right breast with her right hand, pulling and twisting it viciously. Brooke squealed, but Irina was not done. She reached down with her left hand and it struck into the American beauty's crotch, clawing and squeezing. Brooke screeched even louder and tried desperately to pull away from her tormentor, but only presented Irina with the opportunity to trap her in a body scissors.
Brooke gasped as Irina's long, shapely, deceptively strong legs encircled her midsection and began to crush it, forcing the air out of her lungs. Groaning and squirming, she tried to prize the Russian's legs open with her hands, but it was only a waste of time – the constricting thighs were simply too strong and continued to squeeze her mercilessly. Feeling that her ribs might crack at any moment, the brunette clawed furiously at Irina's thighs, but Irina just growled and refused to release her hold. Bucking and twisting, her attractive face deep red from the strain, Brooke bared her teeth in a grimace of both pain and hatred and her long, manicured fingernails struck into Irina's crotch, ripping and tearing. The Russian woman howled in agony and released her hold, trying to roll away from her rival, but Brooke quickly got hold of her golden tresses and pulled her down to the floor. They rolled around for a few seconds, slapping and scratching and biting until, choosing a moment when she was lying on her back underneath her opponent, Brooke somehow managed to get a knee against Irina's chest and push the Russian away.

The two beauties got up on their feet and faced off yet again, glaring at each other and panting. They were both very tired and sweating profusely and even though they appeared quite willing to continue the battle, each woman felt a little bit discouraged, having found the going tougher than initially expected.

Up until this moment, Irina had thought that her height and weight advantage would enable her to overpower her opponent without much trouble. Now she knew different. Tangling with Brooke was like tangling with a buzz-saw; Irina knew that she could not hope to gain any control of the brunette as long as the latter had the strength and energy to fight back, and she decided that her best strategy now would be to try and wear the American down. She no longer thought about overwhelming Brooke, but intended to simply out-last her.

Brooke too was trying to think of a different way to defeat her foe. She was now convinced that she could not just out-wrestle Irina. Taking the blonde down and getting on top of her was not that difficult. Staying on top was a whole different story. The Russian woman was just too strong for Brooke to be able to hold down and she did not want to waste any more energy in attempting to do so. Instead, Brooke planned to try and hurt Irina real bad, shake her confidence, break her will to fight. How she was going to do it – she did not know. She only knew that if she was to emerge victorious from this battle, she had to somehow make Irina quit first.

Both women went forward at the same time, each trying to get a hold of the other. Brooke ducked under Irina's outstretched arms, punched her in the belly and latched onto her full, sweaty breasts with both hands. Irina squealed and slapped Brooke in the face a couple of times in quick succession, but the American woman held on to her Russian rival's tits and began twisting them in opposite directions. Irina screamed and retaliated by pinching Brooke's nipples between her forefingers and thumbs and twisting and pulling them as hard as she could. Now it was Brooke's turn to screech in pain and she punched Irina in the face, sending her reeling.

“Bitch!” Brooke yelled and rushed her opponent, the two naked, sweat-drenched bodies colliding with a loud slap. The momentum of the Brooke's charge drove Irina backwards towards the wall, but the Russian Playmate managed to grab Brooke's hair with both hands and pulled sharply, twisting to one side and reversing the positions so that it was Brooke who slammed into the wall, back first. The American beauty groaned with the impact and quickly pushed herself off the wall, at the same time getting hold of Irina's hair and forcing the blonde backwards.

Holding on to one another's hair, the two sexy, naked women staggered around the room cursing and screaming with rage and pain, neither one willing to let go or go down first. Occasionally one of them would use one hand to either slap her rival in the face or claw at her breasts, but for the most part they just pulled each other's hair as hard as they could. It went on for nearly a minute and neither woman was able to achieve anything other than exhaust herself almost completely.

Suddenly, Brooke broke the stalemate by raking her sharp fingernails across Irina's face. Irina screamed and her hands went to cover her eyes. Brooke kneed her in the stomach and pushed her backwards until she was against the wall.

“Fuckin' slut,” Brooke hissed, pulling Irina's head towards her by the hair and then shoving it abruptly.

Irina groaned as the back of her head struck the wall, but she was not willing to quit. She punched Brooke in the face, then pushed her backwards and came at her, trying to knee her in the crotch. The attempt from the Russian woman was not timed too well, but she still got some of it, which caused Brooke to groan and back off a little. Irina then stepped forward and swung as hard as she could, her right fist sinking into Brooke's flat, firm belly. It was a good, solid blow, delivered with Irina's full weight behind it and it was almost immediately followed by a second one, just as good. The American woman's eyes bulged, her mouth hung open and she sank to her knees in front of her rival, gasping for air. Still, with a supreme effort of her will, she managed one last retaliatory strike and fired her right fist up into Irina's unprotected crotch. Irina screamed in agony and dropped to her knees, before slowly toppling over to one side, clutching at her abused womanhood.

For the next few moments there were only moans and groans from the two women as they desperately tried to recover. Irina was curled up on her left side with her hands between her legs, trying to assuage the pain in her groin, while Brooke was still on her knees, her body doubled over with her firm buttocks touching her heels and her forehead touching the floor as she clutched at her belly with both hands, gasping and coughing.

More than a full minute elapsed before the two sexy combatants were able to finally get up on their feet and face each other once again. Neither of them appeared in any condition to continue fighting. Neither of them WANTED to continue fighting. Both of them knew they had to. They had simply gone too far and been through too much to quit now. One way or the other, it had to be finished tonight. There was no one to interfere, no one to help. Just the two of them and a rivalry that could only be settled once one woman had defeated the other in combat and proven her superiority.

At the moment though, neither one thought she was capable of beating the other – or anybody else for that matter. They were both exhausted and could barely stay on their feet, let alone fight. Both of them realized that they had to keep on fighting to the bitter end, since the way they saw it was that there had to be a winner and a loser, but, even though pride would not let either of them quit, each woman was wishing she was somewhere else right now. Anywhere. Each one was wishing she had never met the other to begin with.

Too tired to even try to taunt each other they just stood there and glared at one another, panting and sweating and shaking, each one wishing and praying silently for the other to back away, or just faint, or drop dead – anything that would put an end to the grueling, mind-numbing, energy-sapping brutality of this ordeal.

Then, Irina began moving slowly forward.

“Oh, God!” Brooke groaned inwardly as she now moved to meet her rival, trying to steel herself for what both women knew was going to be their final clash.

They did not charge, or even walk forward. They simply stumbled toward each other, their teeth bared and their eyes blazing. As they closed in, Irina reached for Brooke's throat. Brooke side-stepped her opponent and, as Irina was going past her carried by her own momentum, the American beauty laced the fingers of both hands together and delivered a clubbing axe-handle blow to her rival's kidney area with all the strength she could gather, letting out a short, loud scream of effort, rage and desperation. The Russian woman gave one deep, throaty groan, staggered forward a few steps and dropped to her knees, arching her back and clutching at the right side of her lower back, her beautiful face contorted in agony. Still on her knees, she turned around to face her opponent and tried to get up, but was not allowed to. Pressing her momentary advantage, Brooke pounced on the blonde and wrestled her down to the ground.
The two rolled back and forth, screaming and pulling hair and slapping, each trying to get the top position, and after only a few seconds it became evident that Brooke's last desperate blow to the kidney of her opponent had been a telling one. Irina was really hurt and seemed unable to match Brooke's efforts and that allowed Brooke to gradually gain the upper hand and hold it.

Digging deep into her last reserves of both mental and physical strength, the American woman took control, using all parts of her taut, shapely, sweat-drenched body to punish and dominate her hurting, weakening Russian rival. She slapped and punched Irina's face and body, pulled her hair and breasts and clawed and pinched every place she could get her hands on, while keeping on rolling Irina over and over and shaking her back and forth by the hair and tits, literally mopping the floor with the screeching Russian beauty. In between, she choked the weakly struggling woman with both hands, and, adding insult to injury, she breast-smothered Irina for lengthy periods, and even sat on her face a couple of times depriving her of much needed air and depleting her already waning energy even further. Squealing and groaning (when she could) under Brooke's relentless attack, Irina was trying to fight back, but it was obvious that she did not have much left in her and Brooke's assault continued unabated.

Brooke could sense victory now and that seemed to give her extra strength. She wrapped her bare, glistening arms around Irina's torso in a tight bear hug, pinning the Russian's arms to her side and rolled her onto her back, getting on top of her. Squeezing Irina as hard as she could, the sexy Connecticut native then began twisting her body back and forth causing their naked, sweaty chests to mash together. Within moments, the pinned Russian beauty was groaning loudly in discomfort and frustration as the American woman's bigger, obviously firmer tits quickly overwhelmed and crushed hers, flattening them. Irina let out a groan and tried to free her arms in the hope of getting Brooke off of her, but Brooke just growled and tightened her grip even further, increasing the intensity of her twisting and grinding, determined to annihilate the blonde's juicy tits with her own. With her breasts already sore from Brooke's erstwhile brutal mauling, Irina was at a distinct disadvantage and her moans and groans grew louder and louder and more and more frequent as she struggled desperately and in vain to break free.

For the next minute or so, Brooke's silicon-reinforced breasts dominated Irina's large but clearly overmatched boobs, grinding them down mercilessly, squashing them flat against the ribcage. Presently, the American woman's large, rock-hard brown nipples sought out the Russian woman's smaller, lighter ones and defeated and punished them, bending them easily, driving them back deep into the areolae, causing even more discomfort for the helplessly thrashing, moaning Irina. In desperation, Irina tried to sink her teeth into the side of Brooke's face and that caused Brooke to jerk back and release her bear hug.

The next moment, the brunette pushed herself up and suddenly planted her right knee squarely in the middle of Irina's flat, sweat-soaked belly, leaning on it with all her weight. Too weak to push her tormentor away or even to tighten her abs, the Russian woman wailed in pain and writhed beneath the brunette. Brooke showed little sympathy for her rival though, and now began to move her knee from side to side, grinding away as she drove it deeper and deeper into the blonde already weakened, softened belly, causing absolute agony for the tall Playmate, who felt like her abdominal wall might collapse any second. Clearly reveling in hearing Irina's howls of pain and seeing the Russian's reddened; pain-distorted face and bulging eyes, the sexy brunette now began to dish out even more punishment, slapping and clawing at the younger woman's naked, vulnerable tits with a vengeance, snarling angrily as she dug her sharp fingernails deep into the tender flesh.

Screeching at the top of her lungs, Irina, who until now had been trying unsuccessfully to throw her opponent off, suddenly lashed out blindly with her right hand and her claws struck in Brooke's face, forcing the American pull back with a shriek.

However, Irina's relief was short-lived as Brooke instantly pounced again straddled her pinning her arms to the floor with her knees.

“Let's see you scratch now, bitch!” The brunette panted out, looking down at her supine rival with a mixture of hatred and triumph in her eyes.

Irina began to struggle, twisting and writhing wildly, while arching her back in an attempt to throw Brooke off, but the Connecticut native proved to have some good equestrian skills and had no difficulties remaining on top of her rival, riding the heaving, bucking, desperate Russian woman towards defeat, simply waiting for her to tire herself out.

“What's the matter, slut? Givin' up already?” Brooke asked when, after a lengthy period of futile struggling, Irina lay still, trying to catch her breath.

The trapped Russian immediately resumed her writhing and bucking, but it was obvious that she was weakening. Seeing this, Brooke decided to really take it to her foe and began slapping Irina's unprotected face with both hands, her firm, full breasts rocking from side to side with each swing of her arms. She stopped after only a few seconds – she was already extremely tired from the prolonged, intense battle and saw no reason why she should waste any more energy, especially when she could think of another way to finish her opponent off.

Stretching her legs, Brooke leaned forward until she was lying on top of Irina. As the latter twisted and squirmed in vain, the American woman moved forward, sliding her naked, sweaty breasts right onto the face of the trapped Irina and covering it completely. At the same time she wrapped her bare, glistening arms around Irina's head, plunging the Irina's face even deeper into her ample chest, the American's supple tit-flesh sealing off the Russian's mouth and nose and depriving her of life-giving air.

Unable to breathe, Irina thrashed around in a titanic effort to free herself, but it was no use. Brooke just lay on top of her opponent using her weight to keep her pinned to the floor as she continued to smother the Russian Playmate with her bare breasts. Irina kept on struggling, slapping and clawing Brooke's smooth, glistening back with both hands and pulling the American beauty's hair in desperate attempts to force her off, but her efforts were feeble and Brooke ignored them completely. Feeling that she was about to pass out any moment from the lack of oxygen, the Russian woman gathered all of her remaining energy for one last, desperate attempt and arched her back, at the same time trying to twist to one side and break loose. It was no good. Brooke clung on, simply weighing her opponent down, her arms still wrapped tightly around Irina's head, holding it firmly in place while she continued to grind and mash her massive boobs into the Russian's face. Unable to sustain her effort, Irina flopped back down, her body jerking around, hands and feet thumping the floor…

Suddenly, just before Irina had lost consciousness, Brooke reared back and lifted her breasts from her rival's face, propping herself on her braced arms with her palms on the floor.

“Had enough, slut?” Brooke asked as Irina began to gasp and cough trying to get some air into her lungs.

Amazingly, despite all the suffering she had been through, Irina could still find it in her to defy her foe.

“Fuck you, whore,” she said hoarsely, still trying to regain her breath.

“Yeah?” Brooke panted, her eyes flashing angrily as she dropped her breasts over the Russian Playmate's face again.

Trapped underneath her rival, Irina struggled, her sexy, strong body writhing and twisting, her long, shapely legs kicking and flailing and her hands pounding Brooke's back and sides as she tried desperately to escape the suffocating embrace of the American woman. She could not do it. Brooke easily maintained her position on top, simply clinging to her wildly thrashing rival and letting her tits do the rest as Irina's struggles became weaker and weaker.
Once again Brooke released her opponent before she had passed out and demanded that she surrender, and once again Irina refused, prompting the Connecticut native to apply her breast-smother for a third time.

It did not take long before Irina again found herself on the verge of passing out without being able to do anything about it, her struggling all but stopped now. Brooke pushed herself up and sat on her adversary's naked chest as Irina gasped for air.

“You're finished, bitch!” the American woman said sitting firmly on top of her foe, breathing heavily. “Your ass is mine now!”

Yes, Irina certainly seemed to be finished. She was completely exhausted and could only lie limp on her back, sucking air, unable to find the energy to defend herself. Brooke could have easily smothered the beautiful Russian unconscious had she chosen to do so, but that was not what she wanted. Even though she had clearly won the battle now, having rendered her opponent totally helpless, Brooke knew that she could never feel like a true winner until she had forced the other woman to admit defeat, and now she set about doing so. She grabbed hold of Irina's hair and slammed the back of the blonde's head into the floor, twice, then slapped Irina's face a few times and even raked her claws down the side of it.

But, despite her hopeless situation, Irina's pride would not let her quit and she just stared defiantly up at her tormentor and even tried to struggle – albeit weakly – hoping against hope for some miracle. She simply could not bear the thought of losing to her American rival and was determined not to surrender, no matter what.

Brooke however, also had her pride and was equally determined to leave the beach house as the victor in this battle and thus prove once and for all that she was better than the Russian woman. And she was in the perfect position to do it: firmly on top.

Sliding back a little so that now she was sitting on her rival's stomach, Brooke reached down with both hands and grabbed Irina's full breasts, squeezing as hard as she could, drawing a shriek of agony from the pinned Playmate.

So sure was Brooke of the unassailability of her position, that she had not even bothered to pin Irina's arms at her sides with her knees – something she could have done easily – and now Irina, suddenly finding some strength, reached up and sank her talons into Brooke's naked, heaving tits, pulling and twisting the abundance of supple flesh and silicon for all she was worth. Brooke let out a little cry, but made no attempt to pull Irina's hands away from her breasts, accepting the Russian Playmate's challenge as one final test of endurance.

The two beautiful, naked, sweat-drenched women – one sitting on top of the other – tore into one another's breasts with the ferocity of wild cats – screaming and snarling, their eyes blazing with hatred as they vied for supremacy. They were both hurting – their breasts were already sore from punishment taken throughout the fight – but neither was willing to even try and free her own mammary equipment from the opponent's grip; each one was interested only in doing maximum damage to her rival and inflicting maximum pain.

It went on for some time. Both Irina and Brooke were very competitive, proud women and neither was willing to give an inch to the other. The fight between the two was the culmination of their intense mutual hatred; the only way for them to finally settle matters and determine just who the better woman was. And what made it even more significant to them was the fact that they were both from different parts of the world; each woman knowing that she was not only representing herself, but her country as well.

As the stalemate continued with both combatants giving it everything they had, their strength and stamina began to diminish, but still they kept up their efforts to hurt one another. They were both almost in tears from the intense pain in their sensitive breasts as they continued to pull and squeeze and twist, groaning and screaming and hurling insults at one another – each in her own language – each beauty giving as good as she got, both physically and verbally.

Then, about a minute into the tit-mauling contest, Irina's grip on Brooke's breasts began to weaken. The American woman sensed it and intensified her own efforts, digging her fingers deep into her rival's tits – her claws tearing at the soft, tender undersides, while her thumbs pressed against the hard nipples, pushing them deep into the areolae, her sharp nails threatening to slice them in half.

Irina screamed and tried to respond by pulling Brooke's tits in opposite directions and twisting them at the same time, but it soon became apparent that the Russian beauty was losing. She had taken a lot of punishment, especially in the late stages of the battle and that had taken its toll on her – the lengthy periods of breast-smothering in particular. She was both hurt and exhausted, and was becoming even more so with every second that passed. Also, what put her at a distinct disadvantage was the fact that she was pinned on her back underneath her American rival and thus had to constantly reach up to keep her grip on Brooke's breasts which led to her already tired arms weakening and tiring even further just from the effort it took to keep them up.

Brooke had no such problems. Sitting on top of Irina, not only was it not necessary for her to waste energy in reaching for the latter's breasts, but she also had the added advantage of being able to lean on her hands as she squeezed thus increasing the pressure on Irina's tit-flesh by grinding her knuckles into it.

“Give it up, bitch, you're not going anywhere!” Brooke panted as Irina groaned and squirmed back and forth trying desperately to throw the brunette off of her and keep her hold on the latter's breasts at the same time.

Irina continued to struggle, but she was very weak now and was having trouble holding on to the American's breasts – her hands were slipping and sliding over the smooth tit-flesh, slick with sweat, and the breasts kept popping out of her fingers causing her to lose more time and effort in constantly having to reapply her grip.

Here again Brooke's position on top gave the American a great advantage. Even though Irina's breasts were just as sweaty and slippery as her own, she could easily continue grasping them and even lean onto them with most of her weight, causing further suffering for the trapped Russian, whose groans and screams of pain were coming almost incessantly now.

Irina could no longer keep up her pressure on the other woman's breasts. She was in agony and so weakened that she was now practically caressing Brooke's breasts rather than squeezing them. Not having to deal with the pain any more, Brooke was able to concentrate entirely on her attack, squeezing Irina's tits harder and harder. The American beauty could feel that she was close to victory now and that seemed to put some her extra strength into her tired arms. Snarling angrily, she increased the intensity of her assault on her rival's already ravaged chest, her slender fingers sinking deeper and deeper into Irina's firm, juicy boobs, endeavoring to rip them off…

The strong, proud Russian beauty was whimpering now as she finally realized that she had met her match in Brooke and would not be able to avoid defeat at the hands of the sexy American who, although older and somewhat shorter and lighter than Irina, was proving to be more than the blonde could handle.

Looking down at her weakly struggling opponent Brooke suddenly began to laugh breathlessly. She could see the desperation on Irina's beautiful – now reddened – face and the look of both pain and panic in the blue eyes; she could see – and feel – the Russian beauty's resistance slowly crumbling and her will disappearing and she knew that it would not be very long now…

All of a sudden, Brooke let go of her foe's tits and began punching them repeatedly, screaming and snarling with each blow she delivered. Moaning, Irina tried to protect her breasts with her hands but the American woman still managed to thread most of her punches through, her small fists smashing over and over again into the Russian's sensitive tits with loud smacks and causing the pliant, flesh to jiggle and quiver incessantly. The two areolae with the small, stiff knobs right in the middle were like two bull's-eyes to Brooke, and she kept on pounding Irina's tits mercilessly, slamming punch after punch into the bouncing, shaking, sweat-covered orbs, as if trying to hammer the pink, hard nipples right through the tit-flesh and ribs and drive them inside Irina's chest. Irina was still trying to struggle, but she was really exhausted and hurt by now, and could do very little to defend herself and was only able to groan and buck feebly as the now totally dominant American woman unleashed literally dozens of blows to her already ravaged bust.
Eventually, the effort Brooke was putting into maintaining her intense assault began to take its toll on the Connecticut native herself as she started to become increasingly tired. Not wanting to exhaust herself completely, and determined to finish her trapped rival off once and for all, Brooke now stopped punching and went in for the kill. Reaching behind her with her right hand, she embedded her fingers into Irina's sex like steel hooks, and at the same time grabbed and began to maul the Russian's right tit with her left hand. Irina howled in agony and squirmed and writhed like mad, trying desperately to remove Brooke's hand from her breast, but to no avail; her hands just kept sliding over the sweaty forearm of the American with no effect whatsoever. Maintaining her devastating double grip on Irina's tit and cunt, Brooke bared her white, even teeth in a vicious grimace of hate and tension and put everything she had into her hands – squeezing and twisting and ripping and tearing, as she growled and snarled and even trash-talked the tiring, hurting Irina.

The pinned Russian woman thrashed around helplessly, screeching and bellowing in agony, her lithe, sexy, naked body twisting and jerking underneath her American tormentor, long arms and legs flailing ineffectually and head shaking frantically from side to side as she tried to deal with the pain that was being inflicted mercilessly on her by Brooke. For six, seven, eight, nine seconds, Irina continued her vain struggle, but it was obvious that all she was doing was delaying the inevitable and finally, after giving one long, piercing shriek of utter anguish, the Russian beauty wailed out her submission.

Only a fraction of a second later, Brooke released her holds. Not because she wanted to, but because she simply had to: her arms were so tired that they were beginning to cramp and she would have let go anyway – whether Irina had given up or not. Then, the fact registered that Irina had submitted and relief flooded through her tired body, an overwhelming feeling of triumph making her momentarily forget all her aches and pains.

Sitting on top of her defeated rival, Brooke brushed her sweat-soaked hair away from her face and raised both fists victoriously in the air, arms straight.
“YES! YES!” the American woman shouted in delight throwing her head back and closing her eyes and smiling broadly, an almost ecstatic expression on her attractive face. Panting, she showed off by holding the pose for a few seconds – sexy, sweat-covered body arching backwards, arms raised, head thrown back, full, firm, shapely breasts thrusting proudly forward, heaving up and down with her heavy breathing, nipples erect.

“I beat you!” Brooke said, suddenly looking down at Irina. “I beat you, you Russian slut… You gave up… I beat you… You gave up… I beat you… I beat you…”

The fight had been a grueling experience for both women and the enormous effort it had taken from Brooke to push Irina over the edge of her endurance had caused the American beauty to reach her own limits – both physically and mentally – and now she was so exhausted that she felt she was going to black out at any moment. Her mind in a haze, she was practically unable to think straight and just kept on repeating "I beat you" over and over again – it was the only thought she had as she swayed back and forth, trying to stop herself from toppling over. She was shaking uncontrollably and her breathing came in loud, harsh gasps.

Irina was in even worse shape. Tired, hurt, and feeling dejected and humiliated, she was trying desperately to fight back her tears, not wanting to give her rival the satisfaction of seeing her cry. At the same time she was struggling to catch her breath and Brooke's weight on top of her was not helping any. She made one feeble effort to push Brooke off, but the only part of her body she could still move was her head and, after only a few moments Irina just gave up trying and lay still underneath the American woman, thoroughly beaten.

It took a good few minutes for Brooke to even begin to recover, but as she did, the sexy Connecticut native felt absolutely euphoric. Although she had been full of confidence at the beginning of the fight, there had been a few moments – especially towards the end – when she had seriously asked herself whether she might have bitten off a little more than she could chew by getting into a physical confrontation with Irina. Now that was all over. She had defeated the Russian, despite the latter's greater size and truly titanic efforts, proving beyond any doubt that she was superior to the younger woman.

“Who's the better woman now, bitch?” Brooke asked and slapped her beaten rival across the face, drawing a low moan from her.

“You are.” Irina said, realizing that in her present helpless state she could be hurt really badly by Brooke and it was therefore best for her to try and keep the dark-haired hell-cat placated.

“I told you not to mess with me, you little Russian tramp!” said Brooke who was really enjoying her position of total dominance over the other woman and wanted to prolong the moment as much as she could.

“Remember when we first got here and you still thought you're a real tough girl, huh bitch?” Brooke asked suddenly, still trying to bring her breathing under control. “Remember how you said you saw nobody here that scares you? How about now, slut? You see someone that scares you now? Huh?” and she slapped Irina in the face again.

“Yes.” Irina answered quickly, and she was telling the truth. She was afraid of Brooke now. She knew that the American was the superior fighter, which meant that with no one around to interfere, Brooke could do to her whatever she wanted.

“I told you I'd make you, didn't I?” Brooke said with a cocky smile. “And here's somethin' else I'll tell you: If you ever, and I mean EVER, try to mess with me again, I'll rip your tits off and stuff'em in whatever hole in your body they'd fit, and if there's no hole big enough – I'll make one myself! Got it?”

“Yes, I understand.” Irina said quickly as she saw Brooke drawing her right hand back, preparing for another slap.

Brooke still slapped her though – a good, solid slap on the cheek that threw Irina's head to one side and caused her to cry out.

“Stop! Please!” the defeated woman pleaded.

“What's the matter, cunt? I thought you're a tough bitch. What? Can't take any more?”

“No! Please, stop!” Irina moaned.

“That's right, beg!” Brooke said positioning herself more comfortably on top of the pinned Russian woman. “Beg, you bitch, or I'll beat you senseless!” she shouted threateningly.

“Please!” Irina whined again.

“Please what, you fuckin' cunt?”

“Please don't hurt me!”

“Good. Now, slut, do it in Russian!”

“What?” Irina asked, not certain she had heard right.

“Russian, bitch, you do speak Russian, don't you?” the brunette yelled, grabbing Irina's hair and giving it a tug. “I want you to beg me not to hurt you and I want you to do it in Russian, it's that simple! Now do it, or I'll smash your fuckin' head open!” she ordered.

Irina did it. She could have easily lied and said anything she wanted, but the thought never entered her mind. She knew she was whipped. She had given it her all, and it had not been enough. She had lost, and now, having nothing left in her, she knew that she was entirely at the American woman's mercy. Beaten into submission, all she wanted now was to be spared any further punishment and was prepared to do anything for that.

Obeying Brooke's order almost mechanically, the defeated woman started begging for mercy in her native Russian.

“Good girl!” Brooke giggled.

She had no idea what Irina was saying, but it sounded good to her. Anything Russian Playmate may have said would have sounded good to Brooke, as long as she remained on top of Irina, gloating, basking in the glory of her victory.

Smiling, Brooke leaned forward, pressing her breasts against those of the other woman and held the position for a while, her face almost touching that of Irina as she looked down at her sexy conquest, aware that there was one thing left for her to do now. She could feel the heat of the pinned woman's body and her heartbeat against her right breast as Irina's chest rose and fell underneath her own with the Russian's heavy breathing and she felt herself getting turned on.

Then Irina, feeling uncomfortable lying on the hard floor with the other woman on top of her, shifted her position slightly and, as she did so, her erect nipples made contact with Brooke's own rock-hard nips and that was pretty much all the American woman needed.
Sucking in her breath between her teeth, Brooke brought her lips down on the other girl's, plunging her tongue deep into Irina's mouth.

The Russian beauty stiffened for a moment and then she began struggling weakly, but her feeble resistance did not last long. After all, she wanted this just as badly as Brooke did. She had wanted it from the very first moment the two had found themselves alone in the cabin. True, she would have preferred to have won the fight and be on top of Brooke now, dictating terms, but since she could not do it, this was surely the next best thing – at any rate, much better than having to take another beating from the dark-haired Connecticut she-devil.

Her body suddenly relaxing, Irina responded to Brooke's kiss and wrapped her arms around the her torso, her hands sliding down the American woman's sweaty back and grabbing the firm, round, glistening ass-cheeks, squeezing them gently. Intent on keeping her dominant position and having things her own way, Brooke reached behind her and pulled Irina's hands away from her ass. A brief and not too intense wrestling match followed, during which the two women's lips never separated, and at the end of it, Brooke had Irina's wrists firmly in her grasp, pinning the latter's arms above her head, while continuing to kiss her hungrily, sucking and biting the Russian beauty's thick, pouty lips and rapidly flicking her tongue against Irina's.

At first, the pinned woman just lay there and took it, but then, as Brooke's passion rose higher and higher and she became more and more distracted, losing herself into it almost completely, Irina was able to free her arms and once again wrap them around Brooke. She then surged upwards and sideways and succeeded in rolling Brooke over and getting on top of her. Almost immediately, Brooke heaved up and rolled to the right so that the two were now lying face to face on their side, still kissing passionately.

For the next few minutes, the two women remained in a tangle of arms and legs on the floor, squirming and twisting back and forth with stifled moans, sweat-slicked chests and bellies pressing and rubbing together, full, supple breasts slipping and sliding over each other, hands groping and caressing soft, tender, wet flesh while they continuously dueled with their tongues.

Initially, it was all about sheer passion, with each woman merely trying to extract maximum pleasure for herself from the other, but after a while it all began to change as the competitive natures of the two lovers/rivals began to take over. Soon, the two were once again locked in full blown battle, which, although of a different kind and nowhere near as damaging and as painful as their previous one, was just as intense in its own way. They were still making love, but now, instead focusing on her own pleasure, each woman was intent on demonstrating her superiority by making the other reach an orgasm first.

At the moment, Irina seemed to have the edge. She had managed to get Brooke down on her back and was now on top of her. She had pinned the American's arms above her head and was busy kissing and nibbling Brooke's neck, slowly moving down towards the exposed, heaving breasts. Unable to use either her mouth or her hands, Brooke moaned weakly, realizing that she was at a disadvantage. Panting and gasping, she struggled, but without much conviction and Irina was able to keep her under control quite easily.

The Russian woman had now licked and sucked her way down to Brooke's full, firm breasts and was concentrating on the left one, licking the warm, glistening mound of supple flesh, the tip of her tongue circling the stiff nipple but never quite touching it; Irina knew that Brooke wanted her to suck the nipple and was deliberately holding back, teasing the Connecticut native, increasing her desire with every second. Brooke moaned and struggled again, this time a little more assertively. She succeeded in freeing her arms and immediately grabbed Irina's hair with both hands, forcing the Russian's mouth down on her breast. Seeing this as a small victory, Irina accepted Brooke's silent command and took the American woman's large, brown nipple into her mouth, sucking it gently and rolling her tongue around it.

Brooke's moans of pleasure were becoming more and more frequent now and Irina decided that it was time to up the tempo a little. She began sucking harder and harder on Brooke's nipple, each time drawing more and more of the breast in her mouth, wrapping her thick lips around the soft, sweaty flesh, sucking greedily.

“Oh, you bitch!” Brooke panted, squirming with delight.

Not wanting to let Irina have it all her own way, Brooke now pulled the Russian' s head back by the hair and rolled her over, getting on top of her. Irina immediately bucked, throwing Brooke off and for the next few seconds the two rolled back and forth, groping and kissing, each trying to secure a better position for herself, but neither woman using too much force in doing so.

It continued for quite a while, until finally Irina managed to get Brooke on her back and mounted her in the “69” position. The American beauty made a few weak attempts to wriggle out, but soon changed her mind and turned her attention to the other woman's exposed pussy, right in front of her face. Irina did the same, and soon both women were moaning in ecstasy as they attacked each other's hot, glistening womanhood with wild abandon, each doing her best to make the other come first.

They each employed their own strategy for this. Brooke chose to aim all of her efforts at the other woman's gaping sex, hungrily eating the sopping snatch, first focusing her attention on the inner pussy-lips, nibbling and sucking at the delicate pink petals until they were fully-open and quivering in anticipation, then sticking her slick, wriggling tongue deep inside Irina's love-tunnel, causing the Russian beauty to gasp and moan in delight. Irina on the other hand, opted for a slightly different route and – just like she had done with the nipple of Brooke earlier – began to probe and lick the area immediately around the American's engorged, throbbing clit without actually touching the clit itself.

Pretty soon, it became evident that Irina had made the better choice. Brooke's direct assault on the other woman's sex was not all that effective – the almost constant contact made by Brooke's tongue and lips was actually helping to relieve some of the pressure, making it easier for Irina to cope with. Irina on the other hand – or end – was doing a real number on Brooke. The Russian's constant prodding and teasing around her clit was causing massive frustration for the Connecticut native, turning her on more and more, the pressure steadily building up inside Brooke until it became almost unbearable.

Moaning loudly, her clit feeling like it could burst any second, Brooke desperately tried to increase the intensity of her own efforts, licking and sucking the other woman's cunt for all she was worth, but she knew that it was all in vain – Irina had her and could finish her off any time she felt like it.

Irina decided that it was time to end this and began running her tongue over the American Playmate's pulsating clit, licking slow and hard.

Brooke let out a long, harsh moan, feeling that she was about to come. Not wanting to lose to her younger rival, she sought for a way out and, finding only one, she took it. She slapped Irina's ass as hard as she could and at the same time bit down on the Russian's labia. Irina squealed and jerked, rolling off of Brooke.

The two women got up on their knees and stared hatefully at each other, panting and sweating. They remained like that for quite some time, each trying to regain her composure.

Then, Irina smiled – a mocking little smile that cut Brooke like a knife to her stomach. It clearly showed that Irina knew as well as Brooke did that Brooke had been about to lose it and had only managed to save herself by cheating. Her blood suddenly boiling, the American beauty was filled by an overwhelming desire to wipe that smirk off the bitch's face at any cost. She felt that she had recovered sufficiently from being so close to an orgasm and now she moved forward, determined to pay Irina back and beat the Russian in a sexfight just like she had beaten her in their catfight.

No words were necessary. The two beauties approached one another on their knees and ended up sitting on the floor face to face. Leaning backwards, each woman propped herself with her hands on the floor to stay upright and threw her left leg over the other's right leg, their exposed cunts, glistening with their juices pressing against each other, forming a tight seal.

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, they began moving their hips and rubbing their pussies together, at first lightly, then harder and harder as they kept looking into one another's eyes, each woman silently challenging her rival to do her best and vowing not to lose.

Both women were equally determined, but it was Irina who seemed to have the better self-control and it did not take the Russian beauty very long to re-establish her previous dominance. Brooke was doing her best, grinding her soaking-wet pussy into Irina's equally sopping one in a steady rhythm, constantly twisting and shifting, changing the angle of her thrusts, trying to find a weakness she could exploit, but all she managed to do was to get more and more aroused herself. Irina sensed this and now increased the tempo, pushing her sex harder into the other Brooke's, her erect, throbbing clit rubbing aggressively against the American's equally stiff and slippery one and pushing it back.
Biting her lower lip, Brooke closed her eyes and moaned softly, her body on fire. She had always liked having things her own way and now really hated being practically controlled by the other woman. Her excitement growing with each second, she could feel that she was perhaps moments away from losing to Irina, but there was nothing she could do about it and she suddenly discovered that the more she thought about it, and the harder she tried to fight it, the more turned on she became.

“Bitch!” Brooke said breathlessly and tried to rally and turn things around, but it was no good.

To her utter astonishment and dismay, the sexy Connecticut native suddenly found out that she was beginning to lose control of her body and it now seemed to obey the Russian woman's will more than it did her own.

Rotating her hips slowly, Irina relentlessly ground her slick pussy against Brooke's, each thrust of the Russian's pelvis pushing the moaning, gasping American woman closer and closer to the edge. Feeling that she was about to lose it, Brooke now tried to pull away from the other woman, but Irina would not let her. Wrapping her arms tightly around Brooke's waist to keep her in position, the Russian Playmate continued her assault, her super-hard clit bending and twisting the Connecticut native's already defeated clit back and forth, completely dominating it. Brooke moaned and tried to respond, but she was too far-gone by now and the Russian Playmate was in total control. A series of short rapid thrusts of Irina's hips soon had the American woman writhing helplessly, on the verge of orgasm.

Just as Brooke was about to come, Irina suddenly withdrew, causing the former to moan with frustration. Irina waited for a few moments, and then again ground her pussy against the other woman's, once more stopping just before Brooke could reach her climax.

“No, don't stop!” Brooke wailed, practically pleading with Irina now, having given up any thought of winning.

Irina smiled. She knew she had Brooke now and decided that it was payback time for the humiliating defeat she had suffered at the latter's hands in their catfight.

For the next few minutes the Russian woman toyed with her defeated American rival, controlling her, teasing her, and methodically fucking her with her pussy, repeatedly bringing her to the brink of orgasm, only to stop and pull back before Brooke could come. The numerous periods of stimulation of her sex, each followed by an abrupt pause, were nearly causing Brooke to go out of her mind. She writhed and squirmed, moaning louder and louder and shaking her head from side to side as she kept trying to reach the ever-elusive climax.

Irina now let go of Brooke's waist and the Connecticut native fell backwards and lay on the floor, moaning and squeezing her own breasts, her hard nipples popping out between her fingers. Irina knelt between Brooke's spread legs, bent down and buried her face in the American woman's hot, glistening crotch, her tongue darting in and out, licking and probing and teasing, driving Brooke wild. Unable to take any more, Brooke reached down with both hands intent on making herself come, and then she let out one long moan of desperation as Irina gripped her wrists firmly and held her hands just inches away from her throbbing, aching sex.

“Let go!” Brooke groaned weakly. “Let go!” she repeated and tried to struggle, but could – or would – not free her hands from the other woman's grasp.

Irina ran the tip of her tongue along the length of Brooke's clit, slowly, and then pulled back, leaving Brooke writhing in frustration. Gasping and moaning, Brooke thrust her hips forward in the hope of bringing her crotch into contact with the other woman's face – or any other part for that matter – but Irina anticipated it and just moved her head slightly backwards, getting her face out of reach and at the same time she gently blew directly into the American TV host's open, soaked pussy from about an inch away.

“You bitch!” Brooke said in a broken, defeated voice, thrashing helplessly on the floor and violently shaking her head from side to side. “Why won't you let me…” she could not finish as was almost sobbing now.

“Beg me!” Irina said with a cruel little smile, enjoying her sexual dominance.

“Please!” Brooke did not hesitate. She was desperate and was ready to do anything for a release. The pressure that had been building deep inside her for so long was absolutely unbearable and – more worryingly – her heart has now hammering so violently in her chest that she thought it might burst under the strain. “PLEASE, MAKE ME COME!” she screamed, her body vibrating like a taut rope with tension, the sweat literally pouring out of her.

“Good girl!” Irina whispered, and then, the cruel little smile once again twisting her full, wet lips, she added: “Now say it in Russian!”

It took a few moments for the words to register in Brooke's now almost completely clouded mind, but they finally did hit home and the American woman threw her head back and screamed at the top of her lungs – a long keening cry of both fury and despair that echoed off the walls of the spacious room.

“I don't speak Russian, you bitch!” Brooke yelled (as if Irina didn't know), squirming back and forth.

“Too bad.” Irina said, her smile widening, as she once again went to work on Brooke's womanhood, this time slowly licking only the swollen labia without going anywhere near the engorged, pulsating clit.

The systematic, sweet, sensual torture soon had the beautiful, strong American woman virtually reduced to tears and Irina, who was having difficulties controlling her own tremendous arousal, decided that she had had enough. She rose to her knees and straddled Brooke, sitting on her stomach and still holding her wrists. Slowly and firmly, she began gyrating her hips, rubbing herself against the other Playmate's sweaty skin. The smooth, wet slipperiness of the Russian woman's burning-hot sex sliding over her flat, taut belly only increased Brooke's frantic desire and she squirmed back and forth forcefully, her moans louder and more frequent than ever.

“Please!” Brooke wheezed, shaking her head from side to side, her fists clenched tightly. “You're killing me…Irina please…” for the first time ever Brooke called the other woman by her name instead of merely using an insult, but then quickly made up for that. “I'll kill you, you fuckin' Russian whore,” she said breathlessly, writhing and twisting “I swear to God...I'll kill you!”

Irina paid no attention, being too absorbed in her own pleasure to care about what Brooke said or did. Panting, her head thrown back and her eyes closed, she rhythmically ground her soaked pussy into the American woman's warm, smooth belly, twisting and rotating her hips, bringing herself closer and closer to a climax. Then, as she felt she had almost reached the top, she suddenly let go of Brooke's wrists and, grasping Brooke's right breast with one hand she reached behind her with the other and placed it over the Connecticut native's sex.

It was a reversed copy of the position from which the American beauty had earlier forced the Russian centerfold into submission, but with one major difference – Irina was not trying to hurt the woman trapped beneath her. Pinching Brooke's large, stiff nipple lightly, Irina began rolling it gently between her thumb and forefinger, at the same time giving it little tugs, milking it as she stabbed three of her other hand's fingers deep into Brooke's gaping cunt and worked her hand back and forth. Brooke arched her back with a loud moan, once again finding herself on the verge of climaxing and expecting another moment of frustration once her sexual tormentor had stopped and withdrawn yet again. Only this time Irina did not stop, nor did she withdraw. Faster and faster the Russian beauty worked her right hand back and forth, pumping the first three fingers of her hand in and out of Brooke's dripping, pink slit, while her thumb expertly rubbed and massaged the erect, slippery clit, pushing and bending it to and fro…

The moan started somewhere deep inside Brooke's belly and burst out of her mouth, growing in volume until it became a piercing scream, which transformed into a series of loud, harsh, animal-like sounds as the American woman's body began to shudder uncontrollably, jerking and convulsing in an orgasm that seemed to last forever. The experience was so intense that by the end of it the Connecticut native was left almost unconscious underneath Irina, but not before the Russian woman had reached her own screaming climax, which albeit shorter-lived than Brooke's, was just as powerful. Finally, the spent Irina simply collapsed on top of Brooke, then rolled off of her and the two women lay side by side, gasping and shaking, both utterly exhausted.

Irina was the first to recover somewhat and she made it unsteadily to her knees looking down at the American beauty who lay flat on her back with her arms flung aside and her legs spread obscenely.
It took several minutes for Brooke to regain her senses, and as she did so, she tried to get up. Irina quickly lifted one leg and straddled the American, who squealed and struggled weakly and to no avail.
“Ready for round two, darling?” Irina asked, a little smile on her full lips.

“NO!” Brooke squeaked, a look of sheer panic jumping into her eyes as she vainly tried to throw the other woman off, too drained to be able to do anything: “No, Irina please…You can't do this…I can't…You'll kill me... I…”

A giggle from the Russian Playmate cut short Brooke's incoherent babbling.

“Relax, I'm only joking.” Irina said, getting off of Brooke and up on her feet. “ I've had a lot more of you than I can handle for one night.”

Brooke struggled to get up, managed to do so at her third attempt, and stood facing Irina, swaying unsteadily back and forth.

“Just for the record,” she panted, looking straight into the eyes of the other woman “I beat your Russian ass good!”

“Yes.” Irina did not argue. “You are a lot stronger than I thought.”

“Told you not to mess with me, but you wouldn't listen!” Brooke grinned and bent down to pick up her torn thong, wincing as she inspected the shredded lace.

“Brooke?” she looked up. “Also for the record,” Irina said lazily “I fucked your American ass good.”

For a moment, Brooke bristled, as if ready to fight again, but then she just threw her head back and laughed. “Fair enough, I guess.” she said, dropping her destroyed underwear back down to the floor. “Still, I did flatten you, and while we're on the subject..."
Deciding that she had regained enough of her strength and there was no need for her to waste any more time standing around and chatting idly, when there was still business to be attended to, Brooke sprang forward and tackled the totally unprepared Irina, taking her down and landing right on top of her. Flat on her back, Irina tried to struggle, but she was too worn out and Brooke's weight was enough to keep her pinned down. Crushing Irina's softer, weaker boobs beneath her own once again, Brooke quickly overwhelmed the younger, taller woman, grabbing her wrists and pinning her arms above her head.

“Sorry babe, you're not goin' anywhere!” the Connecticut beauty said, while Irina moaned and squirmed ineffectually underneath her. “When we came here I promised myself that when it's all over, I'll be the only one left standing, and I usually keep my promises.”

“After all,” she added, “we both agreed that I kicked your ass; I belong on top!”

Sliding a little forward, Brooke quickly dropped her full, firm, sweat-covered tits right on Irina's face.

“Goodnight, Comrade; see you around…I hope!” the dark-haired woman said softly, without a trace of anger or malice in her voice, as she wrapped her strong arms around her rival's head and pulled Irina's face further into her deep cleavage.

With her nose and mouth completely engulfed and sealed off by the Connecticut native's hot, supple tit-flesh, and no air coming into her lungs, Irina twisted and squirmed beneath her tormentor, slapping and clawing feebly at Brooke's sweaty back and shoulders in a state of total panic. Brooke completely ignored her rival's attempts to escape and tightened her arms around Irina's head even more, knowing that the Russian could not possibly last very long. She was right. Hopelessly trapped underneath Brooke, her body already taxed to the very limits by the long, punishing battle and the equally intense sexual experience that had followed it, Irina had nothing left with which to fight and soon succumbed to the American woman's suffocating embrace.

Bucking weakly a few times, her luscious, naked, sweat-soaked body twisting back and forth, her long, sexy legs kicking and flailing, the pinned Russian beauty suddenly stiffened, then shuddered for a couple of seconds, and finally went limp

Brooke released her beaten rival and rose up on her knees, gasping for air. A few seconds later, she stood up and went into the bathroom to take a shower. When she came back out, Irina was still lying motionless on the floor. Pausing only to make sure the Russian Playmate was still breathing, Brooke hurriedly put on her dress, gathered her purse and left the beach house, smiling to herself as she drove away, thinking that she should do things like that more often.

Well, this is basically it. You just reached the end of the story a moment ago. I'm writing this in some feeble attempt to prevent people from accidentally peeking at the ending during copying and pasting (as if you didn't already know who's gonna win it).

First, let me start by saying that if you have any comments on the story, you can write to me at the address given at the bottom of the page. Now, since this is my firs try, I'm hoping for some leniency, but I promise to do my best not to cry upon receiving any potential criticism. I just ask for one thing: If you don't like the story, please don't just write: “You suck!” or: “Your story blows!” and leave it at that. Try and elaborate a little bit; it might turn out to be productive in some way.

I don't really know what to write here, and because I know that you're just about bored soft at this point, I'll try and liven things up a little. But since I can't come up with any decent jokes right now, the only thing I can think of is to give you a little taste of another story. See if you think it has any potential.

Here goes:

Made In Japan


Hiromi Oshima (Playmate – Miss June 2004)

Born: June 1 st , 1980, Tokyo, Japan

Height: 5'4”; Weight: 108 lbs. (34C-22.5-34)




Kristi Cline (Playmate – Miss September 1999)

Born: April 5 th , 1980, Lubbock, Texas, USA

Height: 5'8”; Weight: 114 lbs. (34C-24-33)



Sometime during 2004…

The mutual animosity between Hiromi and Kristi that would eventually grow into an all-consuming hatred, and would ultimately lead to a lengthy and brutal fight in a hotel room in the Caribbean, was born in a Florida college where the two first met while trying to further their education.

Since both girls were extremely attractive it was only natural that they would be the objects of constant male attention. And, as both of them were proud, self-assured and healthy young ladies, and each had a very strong competitive side, it was also natural that they would not only crave that attention, but would also vie for it. That of course created a certain amount of friction at times, and things were not helped any, when half way through their graduation year they both fell for the same guy. Tensions between the two reached dangerous levels and although initially they somehow managed to avoid a physical confrontation it was clear to everyone that this could not last forever and that it was only a matter of time before someone got hurt.

In the end, all those who relished the prospect of a fight between the two hot girls and wondered who would come out on top, were left disappointed and wondering when the guy that both beauties wanted chose another girl, thus effectively putting an end to the dispute.

Even though both Hiromi and Kristi acted like nothing much had happened, they were both seething inside, each girl blaming the other for causing her to lose a man to another woman, and each vowing silently to try and get at her rival when she least expected it – a promise which neither girl managed to deliver on by graduation day, after which they went their separate ways.

But they did meet again...

That's all you get for now. Let me know if you think I should post the rest of it. And yes, I am aware that “Made in Japan” is the title of Hiromi Oshima's June 2004 PLAYBOY pictorial; I simply don't enjoy thinking.

Take care!

The Amateur

PS. This story was supposed to go with a number of photos of the two antagonists, but those cannot be posted for several reasons, so if you'd like to see them, send me am e-mail address and I'll try to get them over to you as soon as I can.