By Ombar

College ended. Ayn never got a rematch with Larissa (An Early Match) because Larissa transferred to Georgia Tech that next semester. Belle (Ayn vs. Belle) wanted nothing to do with a rematch with Ayn and anyway she graduated that summer, moving back to the northeast, never to be heard from again. Hellene (My Dream Match) was still in the area but got on with her life and, truthfully, she was terrified of Ayn after the beating she took. I didn’t think it was THAT bad a beating, but I guess Hellene did. The few times they ran into each other in bars and restaurants Ayn was spoiling for another fight, often cornering Hellene alone for “girl talk” that always ended with Hellene making a quick exit. It was total intimidation by Ayn, relishing her complete dominance over her taller, redheaded foe. I saw the two of them once just outside the ladies’ room in a bar. Ayn was standing just inches from Hellene, staring up into her face (Hellene is 6’, Ayn is 5’ 2”) and holding her by the wrists. Hellene looked panicked and desperate to get away but Ayn had her trapped. I fully expected to see Ayn and her wrestle right then and there, but Ayn was just toying with Hellene. Releasing the redhead’s wrists, Ayn brought her arms up in a double-biceps pose, flexing right in Hellene’s face and leaning against her, chest to chest, backing Hellene up into the wall. I can only imagine what was said as Hellene bolted to the side and ran for the door, followed by the hoots and shouts of 10 or 20 people nearby who witnessed the confrontation. Ayn actually got a round of applause, mostly from guys, but joined by a few girls that wanted to see those two go at it. Every one there could easily guess the outcome of a contest between the 6’ tall redhead that just ran out and 5’ 2” Ayn. Ayn might give away 10 inches in height but she’s got 20 pounds of muscle on Hellene and it shows. Since college Ayn has maintained her killer athletic physique. Maybe she lost a little her definition but her abs are still visible. Her back and arms haven’t lost any size, nor have her bodybuilder legs. Her chest is still a perfect 36 C that just misses being a D-cup, and her hair is just as it was in college. Maybe and inch or two past shoulder length and curly to the point of being wild.

Ayn and I set up house close to my old college, right on the beach, and we began acting like the average domestic couple. Marriage was a ways off but neither of us was in a rush. Life was good. We both had jobs and without any children in our lives our time was our own. Every weekend was a vacation for us weather we went away or just stayed home. Living on the beach is paradise. Ayn joined a local health club and soon got a job there. The owner was an older women, maybe age 50, but in great shape. Built solid and busty, she looked like one of the pinup girls painted onto WW II bomber planes. Standing 5’ 4”, 135 pounds, she had a fantastic 42 DD chest. Her waist was quite trim, not defined, but definitely tight. Firm, round ass from long and tortuous sessions on the Stair Master, big muscular thighs and bulging calves. Her thighs were not defined but you could see the thick muscle just under the skin. Her massive sculpted calves bulged when she walked, and the low, open-toed heels she always seemed to be wearing accented them nicely. Her name was Darlene, but everyone at the health club called her Dolly. The heath club was part of her divorce settlement, along with her oceanfront condo and Mercedes convertible. More than just a killer body, she had a young spirit, fitting in easily with the guys and girls that worked for her like she was just one of the crew. Dolly was definitely enjoying this chapter of her life. She and Ayn hit it off immediately, acting like sisters or best friends rather than employer/employee. They went shopping together all the time, talked on the phone for hours, and always seemed to be looking out for each other. This included working out together 4 or 5 days a week. Dolly was a self-taught expert on cardio, claiming “At my age to stop with the Stair Master would be the end of my figure in less than a week.” Ayn knew weights and it seemed like the perfect workout arrangement, Dolly pushing Ayn in cardio, Ayn designing a lifting program for Dolly and acting as her personal trainer. Ayn got leaner, more defined, and at the same time Dolly built up the muscles in her arms, back, chest, and got the beginning of some definition in her thighs. As I was picking up Ayn from the health club one night Dolly came out to say hello.

“Taking good care of my girl, right?” she said with a grin. She and I got along great and she knew how I worshipped Ayn.

“You know it Dolly. I’d have to answer to you if I didn’t.”

“Damn right! Look at the way Ayn’s changing my body. Not too shabby for an old broad, huh?” Dolly extends her leg and flexes her calf and thigh. Big, solid, and even showing a bit of that hard-earned definition from Ayn’s weight lifting regimen.

Dolly was looking awesome and she knew it. But she wasn’t above fishing for a compliment or two and I was happy to oblige.

“Old broad? Where? I only see a bona-fide hottie. No doubt about it Dolly, you’re smokin’ hot. There are girls in your club literally half your age, killing themselves to look as good as you. And they aren’t even coming close. If I weren’t with Ayn I’d take a run at you myself.”

Dolly blushes and her beaming smile could light up the night. Ayn comes out of the club then and walks over to the car. In her best southern accent Dolly warns Ayn, “That man of yours was making a move on me, I do declare.” She bats her eyelashes and it’s a scene straight out of Gone With The Wind and all three of us crack up. Ayn is genuinely glad to see Dolly and I get along so well. It’s one of those perfect moments, the three of us enjoying a laugh, the warm night air with hints of the ocean nearby, a light breeze that keeps the night air moving, and a beautiful full moon. Ayn and Dolly take a step away from the car for a private word or two and Ayn comes back with a little grin.

“Dolly wants us to come up to her condo later, after dinner. Just drinks, nothing formal. She says if you like the moon from here you’ve got to see it from her terrace over the ocean. It should be a nice relaxing time. You’ve never seen her place. It’s amazing.”

“Sure,” I answer. “Sounds like fun. Dolly is easy company, no airs or pretenses.”

Then Ayn’s expression changes to a look of minor concern. “Ombar, you know I’m really glad you two get along so well. It’s just that sometimes you turn on the charm a bit more than I like with her. Yeah, I know you love me, but you know how easily I get jealous. Every once in a while it seems like she’s checking you out or something. I don’t know, maybe I’m being silly. It’s just a feeling I get.”

“Oh, sweetie, you know I’m all yours, body and soul. But if our banter makes you uncomfortable I’ll be sure to tone it down. Now, lets go have some dinner! I’m starved.”

Steaks on the grill, a bottle of wine, and a walk on the beach round out a perfect meal. Watching Ayn walk in the sand, her leg muscles tightening with each step through the soft sand, has me excited almost to the breaking point. As we get home and head up the stairs to our 2nd story deck Ayn turns to me and flexes her bicep. “I think the extra cardio is giving me back my definition. What do you think?” And that sly smile tells me she knows EXACTLY what she’s doing to me. We never even make it inside the house, dropping right down on a pile of blankets and towels and making love in the moonlight on the deck. Ayn is gentle at first, sitting up and straddling me, rocking back and forth, her Olympic caliber body gleaming with sweat in the moonlight. As she nears climax she drops down onto me and wraps her arms around my neck, burying my face in her sweat-covered bare chest and squeezing me like a wrestling opponent. She’s bucking and slamming our hips together more forcefully with each thrust, all the while maintaining the near stranglehold on me. Only when I take her nipple in my mouth and bite it gently does she ease up, and then only the slightest bit. As she reaches orgasm she sits up again, arches her back, and sticks her chest out, her hands behind her head. I reach up and cup her breasts, squeezing her nipples lightly and supporting her weight as she leans forward. I can feel her tremors as she explodes inside, and so do I.

It takes another half a bottle of wine and 20 minutes before I can even stand up. When I make my way to the shower I’m starting to feel like myself again. Then a hand reaches around from behind and starts to arouse me. Round two is in the small, cramped shower stall. We’re covered in soap, the warm spray from above is beating down on us, and I start to think we’ll never get out of the house tonight. Somehow we manage to find a workable position, me leaning back on the shower stall wall, Ayn leaning back onto me. My hands roam from her chest to her arms, lats, shoulders, and trapezius muscles, and I find myself wishing I had more hands to hold her, rub and fondle her. We finish on our knees on the floor of the shower. It’s a minor miracle that I can even think, as there can’t possibly be any blood left in my brain, all of it having migrated to other, more obvious areas. We both stagger to the bedroom to get dressed, woozy from the sex, but clean as a whistle. It’s 10:30, Ayn says Dolly was expecting us a half hour ago, and we haven’t even left yet.

With a satisfied smile like the Cheshire Cat Ayn says, “She’ll just have to forgive us. Sex like that is practically a religious experience. You wouldn’t interrupt the Pope during Mass, would you? I know Dolly will understand when I give her the details.” And her smile has a hint of mischief to it.

“You’re going to tell her all about this?!” I ask. “In detail?!”

“Maybe. If she asks for details. You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of, darling. In fact you should be damn proud.”

“I didn’t think you girls bragged like guys do. I always figured you needed a Y-chromosome for that sort of thing.”

“Oh, we girls do a lot of things you guys don’t know about. You think guys tell all the dirty sex stories? HA! You could learn a few things from us females. You don’t know dirty.”

It’s just after 11:30 PM when we get to Dolly’s condo. The doorman know Ayn by sight, having seen her there weekly for the past 3 months. He rings Dolly and up we go. She has a double unit on the top floor with an ocean view, private terrace, and access to the rooftop garden. Talk about a sweet setup! Wall to wall carpet, thick and plush, with so much padding underneath it practically feels like a gymnastics mat. Dolly greets us at the door and has a slightly annoyed look on her face.

“Where the hell have you two been? I was expecting you over an hour ago.”

“We got sidetracked after dinner,” replies Ayn, a smug and satisfied smile on her face. I’m blushing a bit thinking about Ayn telling her friend all our intimate details, but Dolly’s knowing grin puts me at ease somewhat. I get the feeling she’s heard all this before from Ayn anyway. She gives me an appreciative nod and a kiss on the cheek as we enter.

“Well, I guess I can cut you some slack then. Sounds really nice actually. With all the time I spend running the business my love life has suffered. Truth be told, it’s withered and died!” Then to me:
“Drinks! What is everyone having?”

I notice Dolly is holding a glass of bourbon, her usual, with a splash of water. Bourbon and Branch she calls it, a name used in the south describing the practice of adding a little rainwater (dew off the tree branch). Connoisseurs claim that adding just a splash of water brings out the flavor of bourbon. My experience with bourbon is limited to shots with beer chasers, but a gentleman never lets a lady drink alone. Rather than just a beer I decide to join her.

“I’ll have what you’re drinking. Looks good to me.” That brings a big smile to our hostess’ face.

“A glass of wine for me,” Ayn says.

This elicits a mock frown from Dolly. “I have to teach you about a proper cocktail some time, girl. But if it’s wine you want, so be it. Why don’t you kids go out onto the terrace while I change? I was freezing when I got home but the bourbon has warmed me up and now I’m a bit warm.”

Dolly goes into her bedroom to change while the two of us wander out into the cool night air. The view from the 30th floor is spectacular, just like Ayn said it was. The moon’s reflection on a calm ocean is hypnotizing as is the gentle sound of palms rustling in the breeze far below. Ayn is a bit chilly, wearing only a short black gauze skirt and a white tank top. Ever the gentleman, I give her my sport coat for warmth. It hangs down to her knees but at least she’s no longer cold. Right about then Dolly comes out, and my jaw practically hits the floor. She’s wearing a short silk kimono, white and paper thin, which just barely covers her ass. It’s belted at the waist but she’s showing a lot of cleavage. I must give her credit, though. She’s got the goods and she’s showing them off quite nicely. Her ever-present high heels are doing wonders for those deadly, well-muscled calves, and her thighs bulge with each step. No bra under the kimono, that much is obvious, and the cool night air has her nipples standing out like silver dollars with pencil erasers in the middle. As huge as they are, those magnificent double-D’s are holding their own, standing up rather than sagging. There she stands, swaying slightly from side to side, drink still in her hand. I’m guessing it’s her 4th or 5th drink as she’s definitely buzzed. When Ayn notices her standing in the doorway her jaw drops too. Then Ayn’s expression goes to that tight-lipped look she gets when she’s not amused.

“Dolly, geez, shouldn’t you cover up? I mean, c’mon, look at you! What are you thinking?!”

“Hey, if you got it, flaunt it. And lets not forget it’s your weight-training regimen that has me looking like this. I feel half my age, and probably look it, too.” She looks over at me then, smiling at her reference to our earlier conversation back at the health club.

“Flaunt it? Not in front of company, and definitely not in front of my man.”

“Oh, don’t be a prude! Ombar’s seen it all before. Maybe not so much all in one place, but I hardly doubt this is all new to him.” She glances over at me. “And judging by his reaction he’s not suffering right now.” Then to Ayn: “Why sweetie, are you getting jealous?”

Dolly is spot-on about my reaction. I can’t make a sound, can’t move, and I’ve got a hard-on that I could use to drive 10-penny nails into a board. I find myself hoping that in her buzzed condition Dolly will let the kimono slip open and give me an even better view. Ayn is getting pissed off at both of us but seems determined to deal with Dolly first. I’m sure my time will come later tonight, and it ain’t gonna be pretty. But right now I don’t care. This is getting more interesting by the second! Ayn’s posture has changed ever so slightly. Whenever there’s a confrontation coming Ayn stands a little straighter, holds her chest out slightly, and her arms no longer hang loosely at her sides. Instead the tension in her shoulders and lats causes her to hold her arms away from her body slightly, bent at the elbows, like a bodybuilder on stage waiting to pose.

“Jealous,” asks Ayn? “Of you? Hardly.”

“I dunno, sweetie. Maybe you should be jealous of me. They say women get sexier with age. More experienced. You may be younger but I could teach you something about being sexy.”

“I’ll tell you what’s sexy, Dolly,” Ayn replies. “Strong is sexy. At least it is to Ombar.” Ayn looks over at me for reassurance and I finally manage to speak.

“Absolutely, honey. How many times have I told you how incredibly sexy your strength is to me. You’ve always driven me wild with your muscles. You’re turning me on right now with that tank top and skirt.” This helps, and Ayn is temporarily put at ease. She needed to hear me say out loud that she’s the one that turns me on. More importantly to Ayn, Dolly has heard it as well. But Dolly presses on.

“Oh, I’m stronger than little old you, honey. Don’t get me wrong; I know you’re in fantastic shape. I’d kill to have your body and I don’t mind admitting that. But when it comes to brute strength I’m afraid you couldn’t compete with me. I’ve got the size advantage, face it.”

Ayn can’t believe what she’s hearing from her slightly drunk friend. She lets my sport coat slip off her shoulders and onto the floor, brings her right arm up and flexes her bicep. She walks right up to Dolly and stands almost nose to nose with our hostess. Smiling now, Ayn asks, “You wanna compare muscles?” Ayn is truly amazing. Her lat is popping out, her shoulder looks like a small cannon ball, and that peaked bicep is stunning. An incredible triceps muscle completes the picture. She has every right to be proud of those guns!

“All right. I’m game for a little show and tell. You have the advantage in upper body strength, but when it comes to legs it’s all me.” Dolly extends her left leg out in front of her and turns her foot outward. Her thigh tightens up revealing the shape of pure power, and her calf bulges as she flexes it, highlighted even more by her thin ankle. Christ, those calves are massive! Dolly continues, “Ask any athlete. Their power comes from their legs.”

“You think you’re stronger than me?” questions Ayn. “You’re going to have to prove it.”

“I thought you’d never ask!”

“Where, and how?” Ayn continues.

“Back at my club? With weights?” asks Dolly, raising an eyebrow.

“No, I was thinking of something a little more primal. You’ve got all this room right here. It’s private. No one to disturb us. Fight me. Girl on girl, submission fight. You obviously don’t mind nudity seeing how you’re dressed right now. Strip to whatever you’re comfortable in. I’ll wear what you wear. We fight until one of us gives and the other has to accept. Since we both have to show up for work tomorrow, neither of us wants a black eye or bruises so lets say no striking. No fist fighting or kicking. Just muscle against muscle in a wrestling match. You want to see who’s stronger? Then fight me. Ombar gets to observe and step in if either of us gets in any danger. It’ll be intense, but nobody gets injured. Just a bruised ego maybe. Yeah, I’ll make you beg a little, but I won’t hurt you seriously. Of course if you’re afraid I understand.” And Ayn is grinning from ear to ear. Dolly really can’t back down now, not after sassing Ayn before and making claims about her superior strength. I don’t think Dolly would back down anyway. She’s got the moxie for a little tussle with her friend. It probably sounds like fun to her.

Dolly’s smile says it all. Yeah, she wants this. Maybe it’s to test herself against another well-built female in pure competition. And maybe it’s just a thrill to be in a fight. Either way, her answer is simply to let the kimono drop from her body into a heap at her feet. She kicks off the heels she’s wearing and stands before us, hands on her hips, wearing only blue bikini panties and a smile. Magnificent! Those monster jugs are standing up as if she were wearing a support bra, no sag at all. Her nipples are still erect, flushed bright pink with excitement and they’re huge, measuring maybe 3 inches across. Ayn’s in contrast are smaller and darker, but stand our almost a full inch when she’s aroused. Like now. Ayn is bare-breasted and stripped down to her black thong panties in a heartbeat. The ladies have their eyes locked on each other, both smiling. Ayn’s chest is nothing to sneeze at, so close to a D-cup but still a far cry from the rack Dolly is sporting. Although only 5’ 2” tall, Ayn has the physique of a goddess, lean and muscled from swimming, gymnastics, and weight training. Peaked biceps and outstanding triceps give her an arm measurement of 14 ½ inches cold, a full 15 inches pumped and flexed. Tiny waist, six pack abs, a broad back that only accents that wasp waist of hers, and legs chiseled out of granite. Not nearly as big as Dolly’s legs, Ayn’s are defined and still massive enough to give Dolly a good run for her money. I’ve watched Ayn make other girls beg and plead for mercy with her legs. But if Dolly knows how to use those huge thighs and calves of hers, and can get them wrapped around Ayn, the fight will be a short one. Of course I want to see my muscular girlfriend win the contest, but something inside me is curious to see how Ayn would react to getting crushed into submission by her older and more massive foe. The idea of Dolly overpowering Ayn and punishing her in a bare-bosom girl fight has my head spinning. I have no idea if Dolly has any fighting experience but I’m guessing, based on how willing she was to face Ayn one on one, that she’s no stranger to female combat. Ayn walks up to Dolly and stands maybe 6 inches from her, face to face, hands on hips just like her opponent. It’s a friendly challenge and both are still smiling, but once they start the wrestling match I get the feeling that will change.

I push a couch back up against a table, creating a clear spot of carpet maybe 10 feet square. The two ladies walk together to the center of the area and as I’m about to ask them how they want to start Dolly makes her move. She charges Ayn and tries to wrap her arms around Ayn’s head and neck but Ayn retreats from her charge all the way back to the wall. Dolly’s rush continues and she has Ayn cornered. Using her body weight to her advantage she barrels into Ayn, bare chest to bare chest, and slams against Ayn who hits the wall backwards with a thud. Hanging pictures rattle but nothing falls. Dolly maintains her position, pressing Ayn against the wall chest to chest, her incredible legs driving her against Ayn, and still trying to secure a bear hug on Ayn’s head. Ayn bends at the knees, dropping down several inches in order to encircle her charging foe’s waist with her powerful arms but she can do little to resist the bigger woman. Ayn finds herself in the unenviable position of being smothered by Dolly’s bare bosoms and at the same time being crushed against the wall by the power of those giant thighs and awesome calves.

“Gnrogh, Shrghn!” is all I can hear from Ayn through Dolly’s DD’s. I’m not sure but I think it was “Oh, Shit.”

“Don’t even think about giving in yet, sugar. You’re mine, and when we’re through here you’re not going to be able to forget it,” taunts Dolly.

Ayn is still thinking in spite of having this big girl’s bare tits in her face. Using her upper body strength where she has the advantage, Ayn tightens her arms around her bigger rival’s back and both lifts and squeezes at the same time. Bringing the big girl’s massive legs off the floor takes away Dolly’s ability to push and hold Ayn back against the wall. It also momentarily forces the air from her Dolly’s lungs in one explosive rush.

“Ooof!”

Ayn has Dolly’s feet less than an inch off the floor but it’s enough. She steps forward away from the wall carrying her opponent towards the center of the fighting space I cleared earlier, one plodding step after another. Dolly looks uncomfortable with Ayn’s fist digging into her lower back plus she’s no longer in control. Still squeezing my girl’s face into her huge bare bosoms, Dolly’s head whips from left to right as she struggles to see where Ayn is carrying her. Sensing that Ayn is about to drop her Dolly quickly locks her thighs around Ayn’s waist in a classic body scissors. The moment she hooks her ankles together I’m afraid this contest is just about over. Once she starts to squeeze with those spectacular legs Ayn is going to have to submit. No amount of sit-ups or crunches could protect Ayn’s midsection from the pain Dolly is about to dish out. I’m about to get my wish about seeing Ayn crushed into submission by the bigger, older woman, but just as Dolly is about to crank down with the scissors Ayn dumps her onto the carpet on her back.

“Uuugh!” Dolly smacks down hard, legs still firmly locked around Ayn’s muscular little waist. Her head strikes the carpet with a loud thud and even though there’s a lot of padding underneath the carpet her eye’s glaze over momentarily, stunned from her head thumping down at the same time as the rest of her body. The drop from the standing position directly onto her back knocks the wind out of Dolly, which gives her smaller rival the chance to reach back and break the scissors hold at the ankles where Dolly’s legs are locked together. Free from those massive thighs Ayn goes on the offensive. In one fast leap she springs forward, landing with her chest on Dolly’s face and applying her own bare bosom smother hold. As Ayn straddles the bigger fighter she starts squeezing Dolly’s head against her chest. She’s got both arms wrapped around the bigger woman’s neck and the muscles of her back and arms pop out with the effort. Sweat runs down the middle of Ayn’s back and stops at her thong. She grunts with effort as she pulls harder and tighter on Dolly’s head and neck, continuing to grind her bare chest into her opponent’s face.

Underneath her smaller attacker Dolly is moaning in pain, her cries muffled by a sweaty pair of 36-C’s. “Nnnnggggmmm!!” Her legs thrash about but she’s unable to get traction with her bare feet on the carpet. Her hands slap weakly at Ayn’s broad bare back but I can tell she’s not trying to slap Ayn to hurt her; she’s just desperate and can do little else. The moment Dolly plants her feet firmly on the floor like she’s about to arch up into a back bridge Ayn slides her legs down along Dolly’s and sinks in a grapevine. More to simply hold her opponent’s legs than to inflict pain, it still gives me a comparison view of both wrestlers’ legs locked together and flexing against each other. The muscle separation in Ayn’s beautifully toned thighs complements their perfect shape. Her diamond-shaped calves are equally impressive and defined. By most standards Ayn’s legs are big, especially considering her short stature. But next to Dolly’s legs they’re almost anemic. Probably 1½ times as big as Ayn’s, Dolly’s thighs don’t have nearly the definition or muscle separation. But what they lack in tone they make up for with sheer bulk, and it’s all muscle too. Her calves are bigger than Ayn’s by similar proportions, but Dolly has some great definition there. Even with her hard-earned power Ayn doesn’t have the strength in her legs to hurt Dolly with the grape vine. But she does have enough power to immobilize the other fighter’s legs somewhat. Concentrating on the bear hug/smother hold, Ayn redoubles her efforts and it looks like she’s trying to rip Dolly’s head completely off. Ayn is alternately relaxing slightly and then squeezing again while jerking upwards on her victim’s head. Each jerk elicits a new moan from the girl being smothered. Dolly’s hands go from Ayn’s back down to her thighs, pushing at them in a futile attempt to force Ayn’s thighs off her.

Finding my voice I ask Ayn, “Is she giving up? Has she submitted?”

“I don’t know,” answers Ayn. “I can’t hear much besides moaning. Who cares though? I’m not done with her yet anyway. This big bitch owes me an apology.” Ayn’s smile tells me how much she’s enjoying this most basic form of competition. Girl muscle against girl muscle and she’s overpowering her opponent, dominating the bigger wrestler and dishing out just a bit of pain, just enough to let Dolly know who’s in charge. I hope they can still be friends when this is over, however it turns out, but for now it’s just two girls in a wrestling fight to the finish.

Ayn releases the grapevine and moves up higher on top of Dolly. She had been slipping up higher on her opponent anyway and the grape vine had become totally ineffective. She wasn’t doing any damage with it before, but since entangling their muscular legs what little control she had was gone. Bringing her legs up into more of a straddling position serves to give Ayn a better base with which to crank her bear hug on Dolly’s head. Ayn’s jerking and twisting motions on Dolly’s neck get stronger and more violent and I begin to worry about her really hurting her employer.

“Ayn, ease up with her neck, you’re gonna injure her,” I said. “You’re about to tear her head off!”

Maybe I distracted Ayn, but at that moment Dolly gets her feet planted firmly and arches violently upward, throwing Ayn up yet higher on her but not completely off. Ayn still has a hold of her victim’s head but is losing her grip. Before she can wiggle back into a better mounting position Dolly plants her right leg again and gives another shove with that massive thigh and calf. Rather than arch her back upwards this time she rolls herself and her smaller tormentor over to the left. Desperate to keep the bear hug/bosom smother on her opponent, Ayn tries in vain to get her hands around the back of Dolly’s neck. But the bigger girl has just enough separation to move now and completed the reversal. Ayn is now lying on her back with her fingers laced together and is pulling Dolly’s head back towards her sweaty breasts. Dolly is still between Ayn’s legs but instead of Ayn being on top in a mounted position it’s Dolly on top now. Before Dolly can throw Ayn’s hands off from the back of her neck and go on the offensive herself, Ayn locks her own powerful thighs around her big breasted opponent’s trim waist, locking her foot behind the other ankle and securing a crushing body scissors.

“Uuugh! Aaah-ooohh!!” Free from Ayn’s tits being pressed against her face now I can hear every grunt and groan Dolly makes. Ayn is gritting her teeth and squeezing with her gorgeous thighs for all she’s worth, and the effects on her foe are immediate. The striations in Ayn’s thigh muscles stand out and show her spectacular definition, and her calves bulging with this latest effort. Sweat covers both bare-chested fighters now and both girls’ hair is plastered to their heads like they had been swimming. Dolly is almost screaming in pain and Ayn reacts with glee to each outburst.

“Time to give up yet, old girl,” prods Ayn?

“Fuck you, little girl!”

“Do these thighs feel little to you, bitch?” Ayn relaxes the scissors for a fraction of a second, then slams her legs straight and sends a new wave of pain through Dolly.

“Mmmmnnngg, Owowowow, you FUCKING LITTLE BITCH!!” With that, Dolly gets her hands up onto Ayn’s neck and tries for a two-handed choke. Before it can have any effect Ayn grabs both of Dolly’s wrists and pulls them off her neck. Ayn is on her back with Dolly’s chest resting on her stomach. Her scissors is still clamped tight around Dolly just under the big girl’s arms, right around her rib cage. When Dolly looks up I can see agony on her face, but also anger. She’s furious that another girl has been torturing her and also probably mad at being so helpless. So far, since pushing Ayn back at the start of their match, it’s been all Ayn and I’m starting to wonder if Dolly has had any girl fighting experience. Ayn releases both of Dolly’s wrists and grabs two handfuls of her opponent’s hair. Using her hair as a handle Ayn pulls her face onto her upper stomach and wrenches her head back and forth.

“We said anything but striking, right?” Ayn continues to abuse Dolly, yanking her hair and crushing her ribs with those magnificent legs at the same time. When Dolly’s head is pulled to one side I can clearly see the look on her face has gone from angry to helpless and maybe even scared. Dolly reaches for Ayn’s hand but Ayn intercepts it, grabbing Dolly’s wrist. Ayn has one handful of hair and her opponent’s wrist in the other. The scissors is still sunk in solidly, with Ayn relaxing the hold a bit and then cranking down hard again.

“Owwwwww,” is all that’s coming from the bigger wrestler now, trapped in Ayn’s deadly body scissors. The fight is going out of Dolly and she’s reduced to whimpering. I’m about to call the whole thing off as Ayn is in total control and has been since dumping her foe onto her back. Even if Dolly won’t submit there can be little doubt about who has won this battle.

Then a sign that Ayn’s victim might not be done yet. Pulling first one leg then the other up so she’s in a kneeling position, legs wide for stability, Dolly is making an attempt to get free. The sweat on the two wrestlers has caused Ayn’s legs to slip from Dolly’s rib cage down to her waist. Sure, it’s still painful, but at least Dolly can breathe a little better. And if Dolly is getting those huge legs of hers back into the fight then maybe it’s not over after all. Ayn no longer smiling, grimacing with the effort she’s putting into the body scissors, and still clinging to one handful of her opponent’s hair, but feeling much less cocky as her big legged foe starts trying again.

With her free hand Dolly reaches for Ayn’s hair and grabs a handful herself. As Dolly pulls downward Ayn lets out a yelp of pain.

“Aaahhhyshit!” Ayn’s shoulders come off the floor as she does a mini back arch, head and lower back still on the ground, chest sticking out and up. The look on her face is one of pain and, for the first time tonight, doubt. The bigger girl is using Ayn’s own tactics on her. Ayn releases Dolly’s hair completely now and reaches with both her hands for the hand that’s pulling her hair, which turns out to be a mistake. Dolly can finally lift her head up and look Ayn in the eyes. Mascara smeared probably from crying, maybe just from sweat, angry and determined, this older woman is looking for payback. The steam has gone out of Ayn’s scissors hold and her legs drop off the bigger woman. With her free hand Dolly reaches for Ayn’s outstretched neck and starts to choke her, keeping her other hand in Ayn’s hair. Ayn’s legs thrash as she tries to push herself across the carpet away from Dolly but Dolly’s handful of hair and Ayn’s complete lack of traction with her bare feet keep her from getting away. Dolly takes the opportunity to lunge forward and lands sitting on Ayn’s stomach, her powerful legs straddling the younger fighter. Releasing Ayn’s hair, Dolly goes for Ayn’s throat with both hands now, getting a good grip and squeezing, leaning forward to add to the pressure on her panicking foe’s windpipe. She lifts Ayn’s head an inch or so off the floor and bangs it back down, three or four times in a row. A frantic Ayn gets Dolly by the wrists and jerks her hands outwards and off her tender throat, but this causes the busty fighter to fall onto Ayn, tits first. Dolly pulls her wrists free of Ayn’s feeble grasp, wrapping both arms around Ayn’s head and applying the bare bosom smother and bear hug to Ayn now, completely reversing their positions. With Dolly’s sweaty chest in her face, Ayn thrashes around more violently but with no results.

“Fuck you, you little bitch. Now you’re gonna suffer,” Dolly says with a determined smile.

“Mmmph!!” More wild leg thrashing by Ayn, her arms draped loosely around Dolly’s waist. Without her thighs locked around the older woman’s waist Ayn is helpless on her back. Though not as strong in the upper body as Ayn, Dolly certainly has the power to inflict some pain with her bear hug and that’s exactly what she’s doing. I’m not sure how much I’ll let Ayn take, but I’m nowhere near stopping this now, even if Ayn submits. I’m secretly hoping Dolly will get those monster legs of hers around Ayn, but for now she’s just straddling Ayn. My girl finally gets some footing and plants her feet for a back arch, hoping to dislodge her attacker. Dolly seizes this chance to apply a grape vine of her own. Ayn screams in pain, but the sound is muffled by Dolly’s awesome DD’s. The look on Dolly’s face says it all; she’s finally getting some revenge and loving it.

“Cry all you want, sweetie, there’s no escape.” Dolly applies more pressure with those unbelievable legs of hers and Ayn is rigid with pain. The big busted broad just keeps driving her legs against her rival’s, slow and steady, her exertion causing the sweat to practically jump off her back and run down her spine, soaking her blue panties at the waist band and darkening them. I can just see Ayn’s eyes above Dolly’s massive chest. Ayn looks to me with pleading teary eyes but she hasn’t submitted.

Dolly is looking down into Ayn’s eyes, only inches from her own. “Oh no no no. You want it to stop? Surrender and I’ll consider letting you up,” says Dolly. “Ombar is a gentleman and won’t save you. Remember, they’re your rules Aynie. Save yourself and admit defeat.”

Ayn’s answer is to close her eyes and give a slight shake of her head. No. So the fight continues. Ayn is on her back, Dolly’s immense, powerful legs entwined in hers, suffering through a bare bosom smother hold at the hands of a woman about twice her age. Ayn suddenly goes limp but she’s still conscious, just exhausted and demoralized. I don’t think she sees any way out of the holds the big fighter has her in, yet pride won’t let her utter the only words that will set her free. Dolly must think it’s over and releases the grape vine. She’s not going to release Ayn completely until there’s a clear submission but she doesn’t want to kill the smaller fighter either. Then releasing the bear hug on Ayn’s neck, Dolly sits up on Ayn’s chest with her knees pressing Ayn’s shoulders down on the carpet, a perfect schoolgirl pin. She places her hands on her hips, looks down at her beaten opponent, and smiles. No words, but her meaning is clear. They fought like primitive warriors, stripped down to the barest essentials, just panties, and the bigger girl has proven herself superior. Still smiling, Dolly’s fantastic chest heaves with each breath. Her nipples are still hard as pencil erasers and she’s still sweating as if she just went 30 minutes on her Stair Master.

“C’mon honey, say the words. I’m not getting off you until you do.” And Dolly bounces slightly on Ayn’s chest, each time her well-rounded ass comes down a breath being forced out of Ayn’s lungs. Dollies sweat runs down her huge bare bosoms and drips off her nipples onto Ayn’s face with each bounce. But before Dolly knows what’s happening Ayn’s leg comes up from behind and across the front of Dolly’s neck. If she were quick Dolly could simply grab Ayn’s ankle and force her knee down to her face, converting the schoolgirl pin into a painful matchbook pin. But Dolly is already thinking the fight is over and that Ayn is beaten. She’s not ready for Ayn’s desperation move and gets caught. Ayn curls her leg around Dolly’s neck and pushes her surprised opponent back off her. Dolly’s reaction is to grab at Ayn’s calf with both hands but she doesn’t have the strength to stop it. Dolly tumbles onto her back and Ayn comes up to a sitting position. Falling to her side, her leg still curled around the older woman’s neck, Ayn quickly wraps her other leg around her foot and turns the hold into a figure four around Dolly’s neck. The big girl’s air is cut off immediately as Ayn tightens the hold. Desperately Dolly slaps at Ayn’s muscular legs as Ayn applies more and more pressure. Dolly’s head is at an awkward angle, her neck makes a cracking sound, and there’s real panic on her face. I can see the pain in her eyes is far worse than anything she suffered through earlier in the fight. Ayn has a maniacal look in her eyes and I’m worried. Ayn is not letting up, cranking down as hard as she can, and doesn’t seem interested in a submission any more. I think she’s simply going to kill the busty woman trapped in her incredibly strong legs. I move in to pull Ayn off Dolly and as I grab Ayn’s shoulders she seems to come out of her trance.

“No, Ombar! Let us fight.” But she lets up enough for Dolly to finally catch a shallow, ragged breath.

Then to Dolly, “Say it. Do it now, or else!” Just for good measure Ayn grabs a handful of Dolly’s hair and tugs on it. Ayn’s biceps bulges as she pulls her rival’s sweaty locks, her thighs bulge as she cranks down with the figure four one more time. The threat is real. I believe it. And Dolly certainly believes it. Ayn eases up on both the hair pull and leg lock again. “Submit, you fucking bitch.”

In a hoarse and shaky voice, through tears of both pain and fear, Dolly submits. “O.K., O.K., you win. I give up.”

Ayn released Dolly and gets to her knees facing the beaten woman. After lying still for half a minute or so Dolly gets to all fours, then rises to her knees as well. They’re facing each other, only inches apart, and suddenly Ayn starts to cry. Great big sobs, and her expression softens. All the adrenaline from fighting her friend is gone, leaving only sadness from the realization that she almost killed her. Was going to kill her. Dolly starts to cry as well and the two bare bosom wrestlers hug, on their knees, raining tears on each other’s shoulders. Best friends again.