THE STAIRCASE OF THE LIFEGUARDS, part 5

As if it were even possible, Kristine’s face seemed to join the surrounding darkness even more, but her eyes flashed with their own sinister glow. Valentine could almost touch Kristine’s jealousy and aversion as the other girl arched her back slightly, putting both sets of young mammary globes under even tighter tension.

“You wish you had legs as long and tough as mine, Val,” Kristine whispered. “And we don’t even have to talk about our boobs, ‘cause you can feel for yourself how overwhelmed yours are.”

The attractive cheerleader felt the blood rushing to her bust as she heard the brunette’s boast. Unable to do anything to prevent it, her nipples stiffened under the lycra, joining the growing throbbing between her legs. Valentine felt helpless to understand her own body, but the situation worsened as soon as she felt the hard points of Kristine’s nipples jamming up against her round bikini-clad orbs. The blonde let loose a soft hiss through her clenched teeth, and a similar low gasp came from her rival’s lips, both pair of nipples reacting to the heated sensations by swelling even further.

“Your mouth talks like you’re a tough gal looking for a catfight, but your body is betraying you,” the blonde accused even though she could not remember her nipples ever being that hard. “It seems that you did come here wanting to make out with me, after all.” She pushed her face forward, bringing her thick pink-glossy mouth within inches of the dancer’s full red-glossy lips. “Am I getting you hard, Kris?”

“Slut,” the brunette groaned softly, drawing out the word. “You have the guts to talk about getting hard when I’m feeling your pathetic little things sticking in my boobs.” Kristine’s voice took on a slight vicious edge in the dark. “If you want us to kiss, say it clearly. Maybe I’ll be a good girl and grant your wish before each of us goes our own way and forgets that all this has happened.”

“You arrogant, cheap gutter trash.” Valentine’s excited stiffness bordered on a sort of pleasurable pain. “As I showed you in the pool, I don’t need your permission to kiss you.”

“Try something like that again, bitch,” Kristine defied. “Try it and I’ll show y—”

Acting on impulse, the blonde closed Kristine’s mouth with hers, kissing her indecent braggart’s lips in bitter challenge. Almost as if she had been waiting for it, Kristine immediately tilted her head to the side, and Valentine instinctively followed the game, inclining her face to the other side. That wasn’t the little peck in the pool, nor the aggressive lip-to-lip contact from shortly before: it was a full, real kiss, the mouths of the young beauties opening and sliding over each other’s sweet lips before closing in unison to suck and taste the other gloss lipstick. With perfect synchronization, with each shared breath, Valentine’s lips parted apart wide against Kristine’s over and over again in a roller coaster of powerful sensations, the tall blonde channeling her hate, anger and lust through the kiss.

“You dark-haired cunt,” Valentine murmured as she felt the devastating plumpness of Kristine’s mouth brushing against hers.

“You slobbery blonde tramp,” the sexy dancer answered in the middle of the wet kiss. “Take this.”

The cheerleader shuddered as she felt the sudden, unexpected incursion of something slippery, moist and warm in her mouth. For the first time in her eighteen years of life, the tongue of a woman was inside her—Kristine Anderson’s, of all people—and her immediate reaction was to lick the invader with her own moist pink muscle. Through their fat bosoms crushed together, Valentine sensed the tremor that ran down the brunette’s young body, Kristine’s tongue moving back into her own mouth in damp, warm retreat.

“You take this,” the blonde gasped against the other mouth before slipping her tongue between the dancer’s lips. The opposing taste organ was waiting for hers, however, and both tongues clashed together like two wet swords, dancing, curling around each other, then licking length to length before Kristine’s oral muscle forced Valentine’s back to keep rubbing each other inside the cheerleader’s mouth.

The moon rose full in a starry sky, its glowing halo coloring the lake with an almost supernatural bluish undertone, illuminating two sweaty female bodies matched breast to breast, tongue to tongue among the trees in a clandestine kiss. A part of Valentine’s mind recoiled at what she was doing, engaging in that soft but hostile, sexually but also hatefully charged contact with another girl. Some of such hesitations were almost instantly shouted down by the weakness of the flesh—no matter how much she disliked the tall brunette at the time, since she couldn’t help but revel in the carnal sensations that Kristine’s slender, sexy body was provoking in hers. But it was an even more powerful, if largely unconscious part of her mind that pushed her to go on with that dirty, disconcerting nocturnal encounter in spite of all the doubts. Feeling the tightness in her groin grew, Valentine intensified the tongue kissing, longing to satisfy the most secret of her fantasies: to dominate Kristine Anderson.

For two, three minutes, only the soft girlish moans and the sucking echo of kisses rang out on the shores of the lake, but soon a groan began to grow in the throats of the adversaries as Valentine felt her sensual boobs rubbing with Kristine’s big pair in small, instinctive, barely perceptible movements. The other beauty’s breasts were playing the same game, delivering subtle friction after subtle friction as both women tentatively shoved their firm chests together, their nipples hardening under the lycra. The tension between young bosoms kept building up until it stole the spotlight from the passionate, aggressive French kiss when Kristine’s hands met Valentine’s, locking them together at their sides to force a suffocating pressure between hot busts. Seconds later, blonde and brunette separated their glossed lips with a wet, loud smack that echoed off the calm surface of the lake.

“Val, you horny bitch,” Kristine moaned, her breath broken into gasps as she pushed herself forehead to forehead, nose to nose against the blonde. “What are you trying to do with your dirty boobs?”

Valentine swallowed while struggling to catch her own breath. For a moment, she was tempted to confess her freshly awakened desire for domination but, as she saw Kristine’s dark brown eyes shining under the bluish moonlight, she felt unable to come clean—not at least until she knew for sure that Kristine was on the same page in that respect.

“Ask that same question to your nasty boobs, Kris,” the cheerleader said. “You get turned on by rubbing them against my firm stuff, right?”

Kristine inhaled, and the blonde felt the dancer’s big breasts struggling to shove her own hot cleavage back into her chest. Pushing her bikini-clad globes forward, Valentine held the strong position of her fat pair, both sets of glands getting stuck in a tight stalemate of solidity and determination.

“I already had you all hot and bothered just with my tongue, girl,” Kristine whispered. “This…” she added as she pressed her flat stomach against the cheerleader’s. “This is just my way of letting you know what a real woman’s body feels like.”

“Fucking slut.” Against her will, Valentine marveled at the feel of Kristine’s bare midriff against her own, both soft and hard at the same time, sleek girl muscles tensing underneath milky, flawless skin. “Before this is over, you’ll admit that I have the best body between the two of us.”

“Do you really think your body is better?” Kristine mumbled, her whispering tensing the blonde’s figure. “That’s not at all what I’m feeling.”

Valentine felt her opponent immediately increasing the pressure between breasts, and knew that that could not go unanswered—not after what Kristine had just said.

“Then feel it better, girl.” The blonde shoved her fat boobs against the brunette’s dense pair a little harder, her thick, young flesh tautening under a bikini bra that felt more and more small as the pressure between sexy glands increased.

Valentine tightened the powerful muscles in her forty-plus-inch legs to kept pushing herself towards Kristine but, at the same time, she felt the same vigorous impulse coming from the dancer’s side. With the strength of Lakeport’s longest legs in the game, the cheerleader realized that that was now a real duel—now she could call it a fight, the first of her life.

*****

No one could have imagined it, not even in their craziest dreams, but far away from the lighted streets of the lakeside town, beyond leafy trees with thick trunks and high branches, Valentine Silverman—the lovely daughter, the shy friend, the kind girl who always had a smile for everyone at Lakeport—was engaged in a catfight. Her parents would deny the possibility if anyone told them, and even her friends in the cheerleading squad would laugh at what they thought was a joke. The laughter would be loud if someone also introduced Kristine Anderson into the equation, as if another former omega female made the story even harder to believe.

Valentine’s heart beat vibrantly under her chest as she finally identified what her family, what her friends would never understand. Even after her astonishing transition to an adult woman, everyone still had in their heads the outdated image of who she had been—the awkward girl who kept her eyes down before her body blossomed. Even she sometimes saw herself that way, she had to admit, the insecurities of the past still clinging in some irrational way to her heart and soul. But, as her hands locked with her rival’s in a strong grip, her toned arms stretched out on her sides and her legs anchored firmly to the ground in a test of strength where every muscle strained to push Kristine back, Valentine knew that the transition to the alpha female she was now required that physical catharsis with the only woman capable of challenging her body, mind and will. It was a need that she could not explain in words, but that she knew had to be satisfied. There was no other way to leave behind the heavy burden of uncertainty and lack of confidence of her teenage legacy.

Even so, there were still many elements in this girl-to-girl conflict that Valentine was reluctant to identify, elements that added a different, unsettling burden to her psyche. She had witnessed a couple of short skirmishes at cheerleading practice, so she knew well what a catfight looked like: they were wild and loud, raw and intense in violence, with the adversaries pulling hair, scratching skin, slapping faces and kicking bellies. But what Valentine experienced in that moment with Kristine was utterly different, as the dynamics of their female conflict were not about sheer savagery or brute force. They were locked in a slow, silent test of strength, where their big boobs did most of the work—all that, after having kissed each other. Whatever that clandestine, private confrontation was, the blonde had to recognize that it wasn’t an ordinary catfight.

As if her mouthy dark-haired nemesis was mentally processing the same feelings and thoughts she was, there was no more bitter trash talking for a couple of minutes, the two tall women struggling in a silence only broken by a few contained grunts of effort. In the solitude of the summer night, Valentine could still hear Kristine’s insulting words inside her head, so she pressed forward a bit more with her breasts, seeking to counter Kristine’s arrogance with physical proof of who was right. In front of her, the dancer intensified the pressure too, the two pairs of firm globes squeezing together on equal terms for a few intense seconds until both young beauties relaxed the compression a little. Regrouping her heated glands with a gentle shoulder movement, the cheerleader returned to the charge, but she again found the insistent firmness of Kristine’s bust against her, both sets of bosoms getting stuck in another stalemate.

Since when is she this stacked? Valentine found herself wondering with some resentment, feeling as if somehow impossibly Kristine’s chest had grown in a few seconds. Trying to establish some kind of physical supremacy as the mutual challenges had demanded, she didn’t desist, summoning all the strength she had in arms and legs so that her thick breasts would get the first triumph of the duel. Kristine didn’t give up an inch of ground, however, and only conceded to the blonde some hot moans against her beautiful face. Valentine joined the exhalation with her own groans, the burning breaths of the girls mingling together in the air as their noses and foreheads came back together. The indignant cheerleader was aware of the brunette’s good state of shape after years of watching her dancing, swimming and cycling, but did not expect that strength and endurance at all from such a slender, curved body— although Kristine could say the same about hers.

It wasn’t until the battle reached the four-minute mark that something changed—but not by merit of any of the women, but by the intervention of luck. The flip-flops of both beauties slipped on the ground, and Valentine found herself stumbling away from Kristine. Staggering a few steps, the blonde ended up in the small wooden pier, the water of the lake shining around her as darkness seemed to surround her even closer.

“Valentine.” The voice of her foe was little more than a whisper. Turning around, the cheerleader saw the sweaty brunette emerging from the shadows, somehow the moonlight reflected on the water illuminating the pier with different shades of blue.

“Kristine,” she replied with the same composure, her perspiring boobs throbbing after enduring minutes of breast compression. Taking a step to the left, she let the other girl move to her side, the two rivals now facing each other in the narrow width of the pier.

“Do you still think your body is better than mine?” Kristine asked bluntly, her dark brown eyes sparkling in the night.

“Now I’m even more sure of that,” Valentine remarked, her words laced with a mix of nervousness and excitement. The trash talking had now shifted from an agitated exchange to a surprisingly calm interaction, but the undercurrent of competition and animosity remained vivid in the girls’ speech.

“Then we will have to continue with this, Val,” the dancer hissed. “And don’t stop until you admit you’re wrong.”

“I’ll never admit something like that, Kris.” The blue-eyed blonde raised her hands, ready for the next round, but Kristine shook her head.

“No,” she grunted. “Let’s do this without hands this time. I just need the strength of my legs to push you back.”

Valentine swallowed and nodded. It was undeniable that any culmination of the mostly subconscious drama that had linked her to Kristine for the past four years had to have their strong, long legs at the core of the matter. But it was no less obvious which part of their sweaty bodies would come into contact again even if Kristine had avoided stating it in her challenge. Taking a bit of her new attitude as an alpha female, Valentine decided to seize the moment.

“I have all the strength I need in my legs to push you, Kris,” the blonde spat. “And of course boobs big and firm enough to throw you in the lake.”

***

Words: 2577.