The Holiday – part 7

by Aristocatch

I had no time to gloat over my victory against Beauty before the blond tennis coach was climbing naked onto the beds facing me, announcing that we had unfinished business for which we had no need of vibrators, merely our bodies. I briefly thought she might be challenging me to a trib fight, but I soon realised that wasn't what she had in mind.

I suppose I could have claimed that she had an unfair advantage, as wrestling with Beauty had got be at least partially turned on, but before I could say anything she had literally thrown herself at me and we were rolling around trying to gain a dominant position.

Of all of the people I had wrestled with during the week, the few moments spent against the blond tennis coach were probably the most fulfilling, when the fighting had been in the best nature and where I felt that we both had the same goals. If I had had to choose one person to wrestle with again it would have been her, but the initial stage proved disappointing, as we were locked together, unable to reach any target parts and, as our bodies were not directly lined up, without even having the benefit of our nipples rubbing together. Had she asked me to go to bed with her I would have said no, but very much yes to the idea of sex fighting.

My disappointment didn't last that long as she whispered in my idea that she proposed we ban defensive wrestling and just go for all out attack! I hope this meant that she was already in a level of sexcitement that would neutralise the advantage I imagined she had.

We broke apart and got on our knees facing each other, hands by our sides, a short distance apart. She shuffled forward, gave me a peck on the cheek and said that she hoped I would enjoy what she had planned for me. I told her that I could only enjoy it if she could survive what I was planning to do to her, and she shuffled back.

We remained like that, eyeing each other and immobile. She reached out a hand and gently pinched one of my nipples. I reached out one of my hands and did the same back. This was a pinch that was not violent as in the clips Krystina had been watching on the internet, neither was it a prelude to sex. It clearly marked the 'fight' aspect of what we were about to do.

Our other hands crossed the divide and we began a calm, controlled, working over of the others breasts. The majority was designed to raise the sexual tension, but interspersed with more painful nips and squeezes, much like those we had traded in the mud. This time there was no mud to cushion the effect and so the feelings were quite different.

This breast stimulation lasted quite a while, devoid of all other action with the nips and squeezes serving to cut off rising sexual arousal before it reached greater proportions.

She suggested that we ought to make sure that each was ready and so we eased slightly forward and transferred our leading hand between the others legs. There was little doubt that we were both ready! This didn't stop us continuing though, and remaining otherwise immobile we allowed our fingers to explore the others thoroughly wet slits. Our movements were pretty much synchronised and for once it wasn't by copying the other's advances. We slid a finger into each other, we found our clits, which were more than ready, and we both gasped as our fingers brushed over them.

Pulling her wet fingers out of my pussy, she rubbed the juice off on my forehead, like a predator marking its territory. Following her example I brushed my fingers against her lips, before rubbing the juice on her cheeks. We were ready.

Unwilling to finish even before we had started we pulled apart and sat back on our haunches, looking deep into the others eyes.

Then we leapt at each other!

We were just a jumble of bodies with fingers and mouths seeking out whatever we could. We were both so excited that we both had orgasms within no time at all, but agreed straight away not to count them in the result. This was better as it gave us a little more time in which to explore each other.

During the immediate post orgasm period we went back to squeezing and pinching, and added between our legs to our targets. There was a real challenge in the air and the pinches were a bit harder and a bit more competitive than before, but with no malicious intent.

We pulled apart, marking the beginning of round two, and then began more controlled wrestling. We didn't seek to hold the others hands away from us, but we did try to position the others body to favour our attacks. Initially I was very successful, using a cross-body hold, much as I had done to Beauty, which gave my left hand free access between her legs. Her clit seemed very sensitive and I was determined to target it.

Unlike Beauty she quickly freed an arm, and found my sex. I don't know whether my clit was harder to reach in this position, or whether she had another game plan, but she began pushing two fingers deep within me, pulling them out and repeating the move.

I moved slightly to give both my hands access between her legs, adding penetration to my arsenal, but also allowing her better access to my pussy, and to free her other hand which soon found such part of my breast as was accessible.

Neither sought to move further, and the combined assaults continued unhindered.

Sensations that were rather too nice began to develop in my body. I could merely have let them take over, but this was after all a fight, and I wasn't about to give my adversary an easy victory. I had a duty to try to defeat her, even if I would not have been unhappy to prolong the pleasure! The noises she was making and her involuntary movements suggested that she was also enjoying what was going on and there was just a chance that I could actually beat her by merely continuing what I was doing.

Krystina's expression 'no lesbian' popped into my head just as my blond adversary pinched my breast quite hard – both clearly signalling that this was indeed to be a fight to the end.

I rolled off her body and we got into crouching positions facing each other.

“Tits only” she said and we set about trying to wrestle for the best position to add mammary sensations to the fight. I won the battle to be the first to get her nipple in my mouth, sucking in the surrounding aureole and flicking the end with my tongue. She literally pulled my head away as hers plunged in to repeat the manoeuvre on me. I nearly wrenched her head off, and then we fought freely with hands and mouths in constant action. Because of the movement of our bodies, the area between our legs came into fleeting contact many times. As open and lubricated as they were, innermost parts came into contact, and even very briefly our clitorises. The two hot wet surfaces acted like suction pads and held together, making audible plops when coming apart.

This part of the contest made me realise that my tits are more receptive than I would have imagined. I shall certainly pay more attention to them when I masturbate in the future, although I suppose it is possible that some of the sensations were because of the person producing them. At any rate it was me who brought that part of the contest to an end, resuming the possibility of targeting any part of the body.

We were both very excited and clearly not that far from a conclusion. But my tennis coach had one more trick up her sleeve. After a short but frenzied bout of mutual pussy rubbing she suggested that we try mouths only. Lying side by side and facing each other we tried using our mouths between the others legs. Access was not however easy unless we deliberately held our legs wide open, but at this stage in the day's exercise our energy levels made such endeavour difficult. Almost reluctantly we moved into a classical 69 position, with me underneath. Unlimited mouth and tongue access were now available even if the position was more appropriate for classical sex, rather than combative sex.

Still beggars cannot be choosers, and so we both plunged in, almost literally in view of how wet we were. We had gone beyond the stage of being controlled and inventive and so we licked and sucked hungrily at each other, enjoying the added element of the taste of our sexual juices. With hindsight this was all very new for me, but I was so far lost in what we were doing that I was behaving more like a seasoned pro. Maybe Krystina's 'no lesbian' was becoming less appropriate.

I knew I wasn't going to last much longer and I hoped that my tennis coach was in the same state. However manically we were licking and sucking, it was only part of the weapons we had available and not the part that I felt I could control the most. I took the initiative, between gulps, of announcing “all out war”, hoping that she would relinquish the top position, which I considered as giving her a slight advantage.

Fortunately she was playing fair and she moved off my body. We were both too tired to fight for a dominant position, and so we came back into the kneeling position, with legs wide open that left all target zones available and instantly targeted.

I abandoned, more or less, her breasts and went to work with my fingers between her legs. She tried initially at least to use one hand between my legs and the other on my breasts. This choice seemingly proved decisive as she began shaking more and more violently in the throes of what seemed like a very explosive orgasm. Victory to me.

Ignoring her spasms she cried 'oh no you don't' and redoubled her efforts between my legs. In fact seeing her orgasm was enough to set mine off, and she barely hastened it.

If I always orgasmed like that, I would undoubtedly be much more interested in sex. It was mind numbing and earth shaking stuff. Maybe that's a slight exaggeration, but it was powerful, fulfilling, highly satisfying and nothing like the 'did I or didn't I' results I often get masturbating.

We fell back shattered and I vaguely heard some light applauding. In time I realised that the applauding came from only two of the other girls. Beauty and the unknown woman who had come with the tennis coach were much too busy seeking their own pleasures on the floor to have noticed that we had finished, and certainly not in a competitive manner.

Later in the night my tennis coach explained that she couldn't resist the tan lines on my breasts. To be fair most of my skin is reasonably tanned, which had been enhanced by the sun during the week on holiday but, as I always sunbathe in a bikini, I have good sized white areas around the nipples, in stark contrast to the rest of my body. I had heard that men like such things, but apparently women do as well. At any rate on the face of it my sunbathing habits had helped me to win a second sex fight. Two fights, two wins! So far so good, not that I was about to engage in another – there was no way I could find the energy.