Happy Anniversary

Janet and Anne, two of the first apartment wrestlers that came to public attention, had fought a brutal battle in 1974, leaving the defeated redhead, Anne, vowing never to fight again. Janet continued fighting, earning no small respect from the AHW crowd. With the tenth anniversary of that first publicized fight fast approaching it seemed like a god time to reacquaint the battling blonde with her redheaded foe. Happily, Anne’s opinion had changed in the intervening years. She wanted a rematch against the blonde.

The night of the celebration came. All of the greats, as well as more than a few up-and-comers, were there. Cynara was stunning in a clinging, black silk sheath, opera gloves, and pearls. Jenny turned more than a few heads in her jade, mandarin-collared tunic. Tiffany and Desdemona traded catty looks across the room, but they managed to behave—what a shame! Janet and Anne appeared together, bringing a hush to the room. Janet’s dress was royal blue, with revealing slits up the sides, matching stockings, and heels. Her blonde hair hung to her shoulders, glowing. Anne was in a similar ensemble, only in a pale, silvery, lavender. Her lustrous red hair was done in a French braid. Both wore opera gloves.

Dave thanked everyone for attending and reintroduced the two grapplers. Unlike their first fight there would be no surprise photographer. The room cleared, the beauties stepped into the center, and then disrobed. Underneath both wore corsets and bikinis that matched their dresses. They began.

Both women looked each other up and down, and slowly they approached. Anne’s calm demeanor gave the appearance of being uninterested in the match. Janet’s eyes narrowed. They met and embraced in a bearhug. The women’s intensity radiated throughout the room. They filled it with the sounds of silk swishing and soft, feminine groans. Janet quickly slid her left hand between her body and Anne’s, deftly cupped Anne’s silken cunt, and began massaging the blonde with the intent of forcing her to cum. Tightening her grip around the blonde’s strong body, Janet hugged her foe tighter and attacked the bigger-breasted woman’s mouth with her tongue. Anne was no slouch. She reciprocated as best she could, tonguing her redheaded tongue rapist in defiance, squeezing the taut breasted, flaming beauty as hard as she could. The erotic dance of combat enthralled us. They had no intention of repeating the ugly fight they’d had in 1974. Instead they were out for sexual dominance pure and simple.

Our tigresses struggled fiercely, yet remained standing, staggering occasionally. Janet had yet to get her silk-gloved hand at Anne’s pussy. Their tight embrace and the redhead’s pussy-stroking hand prevented the blonde from arousing her enemy. Janet had to act quickly; her hot, wet pussy was beginning to soak her bikini. She hooked her stocking sheathed right leg behind Anne’s left and pulled it forward. Anne staggered, struggled to regain her footing, but Janet wasn’t about to let the lavender clad grappler stand. Wrapping her arms around Anne’s body, Janet leaned into it using her weight to impel Anne’s fall. They both landed with a thud, knocking the wind out of one another, and forcing the blonde to lose her grip around her redheaded cushion. Nonetheless, Janet remained atop Anne and she recovered first, albeit slowly.

Getting up slightly on all fours, Janet pinned Anne’s wrists, pushed her stockinged left knee between Anne’s pale, creamy thighs, driving it into Anne’s crotch, grinding it in. Anne responded with a grunt, but nothing more. Janet slid her silky thigh down along a tiny triangle of silvery lavender silk, lowered herself on the still stunned redhead’s body, and began grinding her thigh into Anne’s pussy. The sensations in Anne’s cunt caused her to quiver. She snapped out her state with a gasp and rather than struggling, she reciprocated, working her hard thigh against Janet’s wet, blue silk. Both vixens glared, grunted, and snarled at each other. They were aglow, their silken armor moist with perspiration.

Making the most her advantage, Janet lowered her face to Anne’s and savagely thrust her tongue into her mouth. She tightened her grip on Anne’s wrists and increased the tempo and power of her thigh against Janet’s cunt. Anne relaxed and stopped struggling. She moved in synch with Janet, letting the blonde dominate her. Janet intensified her attack, for a moment, pressed her larger breasts into Anne’s and increased her tempo. The blonde dominatrix felt her victim shake, but she was enjoying herself too much to press her attack. Scenes from her first victory Anne flooded her mind, pulling her face up from Anne’s thick, wet lips, she grinned to herself, looked deeply into Anne’s eyes, and drove her knee with as much force as she could muster into Anne’s sopping twat. Anne whimpered, her body seeming to signal surrender. Satisfied, Janet relaxed her grip on Anne’s wrists, eventually releasing her victim, and began stroking her hair tenderly.

Out of the blue, Anne sent a gloved fist into Janet’s head, toppling the blonde. Janet screamed in pain and shock. Anne, beautiful, shining, wet, and at the brink of an orgasm, grabbed Janet’s hair, pulled it between her thighs, and scissored the blonde, cutting off her air. Janet squirmed, clawing at and alternately beating a weak tattoo on Anne’s thighs. The blonde’s struggle weakened. Although nearly out of strength, Anne got atop Janet and briefly put her into a grapevine. She changed her position to a crucifix, scissoring the blonde’s left arms between her legs, smothering Janet with her breasts, holding the blonde’s right arm with left. Anne’s right slid down Janet’s silken corset to her darkening, royal bikini, and started her counterattack. Slowly at first, the faster, Anne’s silvery, lavender glove worked its magic on her victim. Janet hips moved in rhythm, her breathing quickened, and her body began convulsing, coming to an orgasm, but not yet. She worked her hand between Anne’s thighs, her fingers only just making a connection with Anne’s wet, throbbing, aroused clit.

It didn’t take long. The timing was barely perceptible, but there was a difference. Janet let out a cry, a sob, a scream, and then broke down crying in delicious, defeated orgasm. Anne followed her quickly, cumming with a shuddering force, a moan and scream, and a cry of victory. She got up slowly and went to her room, leaving a sobbing, spent victim behind her.