Thirty-Five Years Brings Déjà vu to Reality

By H.G. Hunt

Chapter 13

“I’m sure enjoying this.” The comment came from Bill, but it could have been any of them. Others shouted a few generic words of encouragement. “Come on girls. Give us a show! Take it to her Lisa. Make her pay Jean.” The encouragement wasn’t necessary for the ladies to get after each other, but they were welcomed anyway. Everybody appreciates it when they are urged on by others. These two were no exception.

“I’m gonna crush your ass,” growled Jean as she alluringly got on her hands and knees, spreading her knees apart and giving five of the spectators a terrific rear-view of her ass. The view was short-lived. In a second Lisa had anchored herself just behind Jean her ass prancing towards Jean’s firm round butt. “Not if I crush yours first, slut!” Lisa’s retort came just as their butts collided. The collision resounded for a moment over the roar of the waves in the background. Smack! The staccato sound implied the weight of the heavy impact and at the same time hinted at the cushioning behind the projecting asses. Smack! Again their instinctive aiming mechanisms were on target. They couldn’t see each other unless they turned their heads around, but it didn’t matter. They had arranged their legs and feet on the blankets alternating so that their behinds weren’t exactly lined up with each other, but with such a formidable amount of flesh back there to work with they had no trouble at all wiggling and aligning so as to force pretty consistent and perfectly-aimed attacks. Smack! Smack! Smack! They went at it with a rhythm of coordination. Lisa would lean forward and then shift her weight backwards, the muscles in her lower body tightening as she relished the nastiness of trying to violate Jean’s ass with her own beautiful butt. “Is that the best you’ve got?” Lisa smiled as she felt Jean’s next retaliatory thump cause her ass to rock with the impact. “Not by a long shot, cunt!” Jean liked to use filthy words whenever she taunted Lisa, and Lisa liked hearing them. It only motivated her more towards her goal of dominating and humiliating Jean. The wicked taunts flew back and forth, reinforcing the atmosphere of hostility the women felt towards each other.

The smacking continued for a while, interspersed with occasional grunts, growled threats, more taunting comments, and a few “mmmmmms” as well. Even with the thudding smacks that crackled in the cove the two battlers hadn’t missed out on the sexual context as their assholes and crotches began to recognize and revel in their mutual proximity. Their similarly endowed behinds dueled back and forth without quarter for a good fifteen minutes without any apparent advantage gained by either. The smacks had tightened their large muscles in their lower bodies and the toll on their legs was noticeable to the combatants, if not in a scary way. The spectators thrilled at the continued attacks, redness showing clearly on both sets of cheeks. Brent was reminded of the great naval battles of WWII watching their asses relentlessly bombard each other reminiscent of dueling battleships sending round after round of heavy shells against the enemy. Bam, Bam, Bam, the explosions echoed across the shore without either battleship surrendering.

Slowly the captains of the ships narrowed the gap between them, inching closer and closer together. Jean thrilled at the violent clashes that she had shared with Lisa, but ached to get dirtier and dirtier for a little more intimate tangling. Her battleship ass slid backwards towards Lisa as her knees positioned themselves on alternating sides of Lisa’s feet. Lisa adjusted her footing in the blankets, atop the sandy soil underneath, and she snarled at Jean “So you can’t wait to get closer to my sweet ass huh? Well that’s alright by me. I’ll ass-fuck your ass with mine all fuckin’day.” With that she twisted her torso and angled her ass a few degrees clockwise and pushed back, feeling part of one of Jean’s cheeks slide deliciously between her own. The warm reddish (thanks to all the smacking) skin pushed towards Lisa’s little brown hole and nearly got there too, but Lisa pulled back just in the nick of time so that her asshole remained “virginal”, at least as far as Jean’s attack was concerned.

“Quit your damn blabbering bitch! Just prove to me that you know how to grind your ass. I don’t want to be doing all the work!” Jean maneuvered one cheek higher than the other as had Lisa, but in the opposing direction and she slid/pushed backwards and across, raking her cheeks from side to side across Lisa’s equally red ass. Their rosy cheeks peeled apart as the opposing woman’s own cheeks parted the cleft. Back and forth they went, the two firm humps causing their bodies to surge forward an inch or so and then fall back as the cheeks met at their mutual peaks and then delved towards their opponent’s cleft. The nasty ladies felt very un-lady like as they shared the tingling sensations surging toward their brains from the most-hidden areas of their bodies. In moments the rhythm of the waves that had guided their earlier tit battle found its way into their butt war. The communal nature of their precisely aimed gyrations proved to each that the other was not at all afraid of a little nastiness, even with a group of spectators leering at their every move. The physical effort to slide and grind and wiggle their hefty asses all around was much less than the naval-type bombardment that had started their backwards confrontation. In fact they could even catch their breath a bit now that the focus was on trying to out-nasty each other. It didn’t take long for the girls to angle their asses more towards a perpendicular alignment, even when it meant pulling one knee off the ground and balancing awkwardly on one knee, one foot, and one hand.

The implications were obvious to the gathered ten. Brent made sure to step closer and closer with his camera to make sure he got a good photo of their looming brown-hole dance. Like laser-guided missiles they took aim. As soon as Brent stepped close, the rush of the others took only an instant. Grinning at the effect she knew she and Jean were having on the others, Lisa encouraged them “Come and get a good look. Watch my ass fuck her ass good and royal!” Jean immediately took the bait and the initiative, “Oh yeah! Oh yeah! Get a really good look.” She pushed back and the two brown bulls-eyes found each other in a not-so-delicate way. With their butt cheeks pressed in opposite directions the view for the spectators disappeared, but the fighters didn’t need visual cues. They were so finely attuned to each other’s bodies that it was as though magnets had drawn their assholes together. And the fucking began; asshole to asshole, fucking hard and wicked butt humping, and sweaty-cracked feminine anus fighting. Their narrow and slippery confined holes scraped across each other, to be followed by a swirling, pushing, grinding confrontation. Jean gritted her teeth, knowing that behind her Lisa was probably doing the same, each anxious to outduel the other with her nastiness. So far the two swirling assholes met each other on equal terms. The muscles in Lisa’s legs felt powerful and capable of twisting and pushing into Jean’s tight hole, aching to find a way to do the impossible; get inside her ass and REALLY fuck her ass. She used mental imagery to conjure up her own ass growing a big dick and plowing with deadly accuracy into Jean’s tight hole. Even though it didn’t happen, the imagery was powerful and it helped Lisa smack, grind, twist, and turn over and over again, relishing the sensual arousal that came from knowing SHE was fucking Jean’s ass good and deep.

The power of imagery though can work both ways. Jean took great strength in her own mental metaphors by imagining that it was Lisa’s nose she was fucking with her ass. It made her almost delirious with power thinking about riding Lisa’s nose with her puckered ass hole. She too could push, glide, gyrate, and overpower Lisa’s fine little hole for quite some time using the vivid mental pictures she had drawn to illuminate her actions.

The heightened sensual awareness they shared allowed both women to take note of the tiniest sensations in their bodies, as well as the littlest detail of what was happening around them. Of course, since they were looking in opposite directions they didn’t notice all the same things. Jean noticed her husband finally take his pants off, his rod springing forth fully engorged. “Couldn’t take it any longer, huh Brent?” she grinned at him. Of course she knew the effect this was having on Brent and the others. She could see Bill and Norma fondling each other. She watched Felicity fondling herself, as was Jade. Lisa could see Robert and Mara, Alicia, Carrie and Molly. She noted their gawking excitement, even as they occasionally spied on each other to see what their hands were doing to themselves.

But most of all the two fighters seemed to be able to acknowledge every little folded pucker in their enemies ass hole, each little hair that wispily guarded her foe’s back door, even every little freckle seemed to come to life and shoot its presence across the boundary between the ladies. Jean ached as she felt Lisa’s ass hole trying to snake its way insider her little butt. Lisa felt the most intense disgust surge into her consciousness at precisely the same time that Jean was imagining her nasal victory. It was almost as if the others’ thoughts could penetrate the limiting boundary of their skulls and surge through their anal membranes to both challenge and intimidate their rival.

But physical reality hadn’t departed. They were real women, not magicians or wizards. The snakes that Lisa imagined plundering Jean’s ass were not real. The antagonistic ass behind Jean was not Lisa’s nose. They were still just two powerful and motivated women engaging in the dirtiest fight of their lives; ass-to-beautiful-ass.

As the minutes wore on and the ladies kept at their routine, the voluptuous Molly couldn’t take it any longer. “When are you gonna stop playing around and have a REAL sexfight?” It wasn’t as if she hadn’t enjoyed the spectacle, but it HAD gone on for about half an hour with no apparent victor, nor for that matter, even any apparent advantage. That was what it took for Lisa (and Jean) to snap out of her state of dreaminess. “All right slut, this is going nowhere fast. You ready to take a break? Then we can do what we really came here for.”

Jean, her head cleared of its momentary dreaminess, felt the same and was ready to face Lisa woman to woman.

They slowly pulled apart, no winner determined, no worse for wear, except for some redness and additional muscle tiredness. Both collapsed for a moment, shook off their momentary doldrums and rested.