Faheema Salih vs. Bubbles Burste - Birds Of A Feather

The entire crowd was going quiet now. That was always the way with these things, in Mariah’s experience. The people would cheer and whoop and holler for a match when it was going and the heat was building, but once the sex started, the real sex, a murmuring din would come over them all. Whispers would spread. You’d hear the occasional gasp, here and there a moan, and if you had a good enough eye, you could find the occasional oddball trying to stuff his hands into his pants, with the faint hope that no one would notice.

Mariah loved these little moments. The quiet in the storm. While she’d been eagerly hyping up the audience a minute ago, now she was content to just sit back and enjoy the show like everyone else.

And imagine what she would be doing later on tonight. Oh, the things going through her head.

It was hard to think of anything other than Faheema’s snatch as Bubbles tongue plunged deep into it, but all the same, she managed to catch a glimpse of Mariah in the corner of her eye as she went about her lovely business. She gave her wife a quick thumbs up, before she used her hand for more productive purposes. Namely, giving Faheema’s ass another slap and digging her fingers into her steaming flesh, clawing deep to feel the tight muscles underneath.

She heard Faheema’s heated noises, heard her yelps and squeals and pleas. She wanted to reply to them with a taunt, something witty, but the Virgin Killer had passed the point when she could even consider putting a pause on this. She was a lioness in the middle of her kill, wild and fierce, and her prey’s struggles only spurred her on.

Faster. Harder. Longer. Bubbles found Faheema’s pearl, surrounded it with her lips, and played the harmonica with her foe’s vagina, vibrating it with her moans and her muffled laughs. 8,000 nerve endings, and she wanted to electrify each and every one.

The audience held their breath in anticipation, Mariah gripped the apron’s skirt tight, even the announcers hushed for a precious moment. Faheema was close now, so close, a time bomb with only seconds left. They could all feel it, and none better than Bubbles, as she clutched the wild woman tight and worked her towards the explosive end, further and further until...

The last moments before Faheema popped were spent with her eyes closed, mouth hanging open to emit a chorus of unending moans, gasps, and sighs. Like Mariah, she was currently dreaming of what might happen if Bubbles won the match. Trapped by this beauty and her wife for a full day, squealing in their grasp, moaning at their...

“N-no,” Faheema whispered, shaking her head to block out the images. She couldn't allow herself to accept the possibility of defeat. It was tough to resist while Bubbles was working her over, making the prospect of surrender so appealing. A sharp slap to her rear elicited a yelp that trailed off into a long, cheerful sigh as Bubbles squeezed her soft flesh. Clearly, both women appreciated the humbling effect of an open-palmed slap.

When those full lips found Faheema's clitoris, any hope she still had of escaping her situation without cumming for her captor were instantly dashed. The vibrations pouring into that tiny bud reverberated down her whole body, and forced a spasm through her love tunnel that allowed all the liquid trapped within to start rushing out. The best orgasm of Faheema's young life was coming.

“Oh f-fuck...yyyaaaaa!” Faheema uttered a hoarse scream as a geyser erupted out of her sex. Several spurts of hot cum drenched Bubbles' face in succession, pooling on the canvas below as years of sexual frustration drained from the Nubian's body. In her excitement, Faheema managed to pull one of her wrists free from the tie that Bubbles had placed around them, but she wasn't planning to use them for violence. She just wrapped her arms around Bubbles' thighs for support, holding her close as she rode out her orgasm.

Once the monsoon had passed, Faheema released her opponent, hanging limply from the corner. The aftermath brought a state of relaxed bliss to Faheema's mind, but the match wasn't over. Bubbles was now in a position to win, and her weakened opponent was still hanging, dripping with her own fluids. There was no time to stop and relax, so while Bubbles enjoyed her small victory, Faheema's legs started moving. Inch by inch, she tried to shift them out from under the turnbuckle, trying to free herself before Bubbles decided to come back for more torture.

“Oohhh...you must be a witch, because that...that was some spell you had me under.”

Perfect. Utterly perfect.

After nearly a decade and a half of having sex, Bubbles had made more women scream than the slasher film industry. She wouldn’t lie and say she remembered them all with unfaltering accuracy, but the truly great ones stood out to her. That shy young thing in Toledo. The army girl in Los Angeles. The twins in Seattle, with their stereo screams.

Sometimes, Bubbles suspected her lovers were screaming more than they needed to, just making noise for the sake of noise. Faheema, though…

Bubbles only regret was that she couldn’t see Faheema’s face through it all. Everything else was perfect, from the way her thighs were gripped tight as the climax rode through, to the way her body shook like raw lightning ran through her veins, to the salty-sweet taste of her sex, erupting in spurts. Never one to shy away from the fruits of her labor, Bubbles kept her face in position to take each one, leaving her drenched from forehead to neck.

Bubbles smiled and peeled away from her prey, with their skin stretching away for a brief second as they parted. She took a moment to lick away at her lips, slurping up what she could with her tongue and using Faheema’s discarded shirt to clear the rest. She had just gotten her eyes clear when she spotted a curious little sight: Faheema was trying to get loose.

Her first thought was to rush in and finish Faheema off, just hammer her into the corner. But that wouldn’t be fun.

Actually, no, it would be immensely fun, but it wouldn’t be sporting. It wouldn’t be her way. Faheema was as good to fight as she was to fuck, and it was time they back to the former before they had more of the latter. So, instead of pressing her attack, Bubbles made her way to the center of the ring, leaned forward with her hands on her knees, and waited for Faheema to come lose and start the festivities again.

And she did so while humming a tune, one that Faheema had just put into her head, smothered in her Sweet Tea Southern accent. [I]”I put a spell on you…’cause your miiiiine…”

Experiencing the angelic touch of her opponent had really taken the fight out of Faheema. Bubbles seemed as ready as ever, but the African was still being assaulted by visions of what the large woman could do to her when they retired to a bedroom for the night. Watching out of the corner of her eye, however, Faheema caught sight of Bubbles using her white tank top to wipe the cum off of her body.

That tank top had been a gift from her mother, and it was the only memento Faheema had to remember her by. As soon as Bubbles started using it to wipe the filth off of her face, her fate was sealed. A flat, smoldering glare from her ebony opponent was the only warning she would get that she had fucked up. Straining her body with fury, Faheema pushed one leg down as hard as she could, and forced it painfully to the side until it popped out from under the turnbuckle. From there, it was an easy matter to untangle the other one, although it resulted in Faheema falling roughly to the mat, face first.

Ignoring the ache in her nose and the laughter of the crowd, Faheema rose up, the curls of her hair partially obscuring a menacing scowl. The warrior was more than ready to get back to some traditional violence, to hear Bubbles scream before any more moaning took place.

Before she started, however, Faheema looked down at her arm for a moment. The ornate bikini top of her opponent was still clinging to one of her wrists. Thinking, she decided not to take it off. An improvised weapon might come in handy later.

Stomping toward her adversary, Faheema decided to surprise the singing woman with a sudden, fast palm strike aimed right at her nose. The orgasm had left Faheema weak, so she needed to be careful about which shots she took. No impressive maneuvers just yet. She was hoping that a hit to the snout would be enough to at least knock the blond's head back a bit, because Faheema's next punch, a equally fast jab with her other hand, was aimed right at the center of her opponent's throat.

Simple, mean-spirited, and highly effective in a fight, just like Faheema herself. After all, Bubbles had just taken Faheema's breath away, so it was only fair for her to return the favor!

Something had changed.

True, Bubbles had only known Faheema for...god, it couldn’t have been more than ten minutes. But it felt longer, and the two of them had packed quite a bit of living into such a short time. As such, she felt like she’d gotten a good feel about what sort of woman she was up against here, that she understood where her foe was coming from and what went through her mind. A decent preview, at the least.

The woman who stood before Bubbles now was different, though, and she had a feeling it wasn’t just because she was coming down from the high. She was quieter. Her steps were more deliberate. It was hard to see underneath the canopy of hair covering her face, but her gaze seemed hardened. Definitely not the usual way women acted after Bubbles had given them a good tongue lashing. It was almost as if Bubbles had done something to tick her off, but for the life of her, she couldn't imagine what that would be.

In the end, the ‘why’ didn’t matter. She could always suss that out later, when there wasn’t a determined Nubian bombshell coming straight towards her. Bubbles canted her head to the side, her brows furrowed in a quizzical stare, and that was when the viper struck.

Speed was an advantage most of Bubble’s opponent’s enjoyed over her, and Faheema proved to be no exception. She came in quick, but hard, striking out with her palm and clocking the blonde behemoth on the nose. The sheer alacrity and audacity of the move took Bubbles off her guard, and that went double for its follow-up.

The jab didn’t have too much force behind it, but it didn’t really need all that much to do damage to Bubbles’ neck, striking one of the few places on her body that wasn’t protected by steely muscles. The strike left her gasping and gawking as she stumbled away, and it was all she could do to swing the arm that wasn’t cradling her neck, throwing out a desperate, sloppy clothesline towards Faheema’s head.

Honestly, it wasn't just the disrespect toward her clothing that had set Faheema off. She was always at her most dangerous when the threat of defeat was imminent, and since Bubbles had scored an orgasm, she was outpacing Faheema to a victory. Failing to come out on top in her fights had once carried heavy consequences for Faheema, with every scar on her body to serve as a reminder of that. Life had trained her to take every potential loss seriously; all Bubbles had really done was strike a match to light her fuse.

Closing in, Faheema landed both punches, sending Bubbles into a spasm as she struggled to breathe. Without stopping to smile or taunt, Faheema watched her opponent as she brought a forearm around to retaliate. Seeing an opportunity, she hunched down and sprung forward, ducking under the sluggish attack and swiveling around afterwards. It allowed her to avoid taking the blow, but more importantly, it left her standing right behind her opponent. Just where she wanted to be, to really make Bubbles regret her panicked counterattack.

No words were spoken, barely a noise uttered as Faheema raised a leg and aimed a hard kick at the back of Bubbles' knee. Once Bubbles was on her knees in pain, Faheema would add to that pain by grabbing her opponent's hair with one hand, using the other to lob a heavy sucker punch at the back of her head. It was a precise strike, aiming for the point where the blond's vertebrae met her skull.

As intimidating as she was, Bubbles was fundamentally the same as any other person. She could make her individual body parts as strong as she wanted, but the joints would always be a weak spot. Now, all Faheema needed to do was push Bubbles forward until she was lying on her stomach, before mounting her with her knees pressing down on the Virgin Killer's arms. If everything went as planned, Faheema would be in the perfect position to enjoy herself, at her opponent's expense.

”Ah, crap.”

That was the thought going through Bubbles head in the current moment, in the exact second that she lost sight of Faheema. She knew the wily woman was fast - most women were fast in comparison to her and her moving glacier way of fighting, truth told. But she thought her foe would try to tank the move. She didn’t have a problem with pain, and clearly had a thing for going toe-to-toe with Bubbles, however unwise that might’ve been.

But nope. She ducked. For a panicked moment, Bubbles had her back turned towards one of the fiercest opponents she’d ever met. Which meant she was in a perfect position to see Mariah and the shocked look on her face, and hear her quaint warning.

”Behindyoubehindyoubehindyou-”

Bubbles had just started to think about turning around, when a stifling blow crashed into the back of her knee and brought her to the mat in an instant. She opened her mouth to shout, but before she had a chance, her hair was yanked, her skull was pulled back, and then…

Pain. There was a fierce, immense pain in the back of her skull, and while she knew it had to be Faheema’s fist, it felt more like she was struck with a hammer. Whatever it was, the blow was more than enough to fell the giantess, bringing her crashing down to the mat while the audience looked on and gasped.

But it wasn’t over yet. Bubbles knew that, and it was only confirmed when Faheema mounted her back. Now she couldn’t move, couldn’t push up no matter how hard she tried. Not yet. Not while her head was swimming and her bones were aching and her skull felt like it might detach from her neck.

Never miss a chance to strike an enemy when their back is turned. It was a rule that Faheema lived by in her fights, and even though Bubbles was much nicer than the myriad scumbags that littered Egypt's slums, she was just too strong to warrant mercy. Plus, Mariah was still out there, offering support and warnings from the safety of the sidelines, even though she had made good on her promise not to interfere directly. Faheema didn't have anyone to back her up, and being reminded that Bubbles did was genuinely upsetting to her. She missed her parents, her home, and she was going to take out all of that frustration on her opponent's aching head.

Straddling the back of her prey, Faheema made sure not to give Bubbles a chance to escape. Each hand became a fist as she punched down at the helpless woman's head, slamming left and right into the sides of her skull over and over again. A softening measure, more than anything, to keep Bubbles dizzy even though her thick skull would protect her from any lasting damage.

What happened next carried no such guarantee. Raising her arms, Faheema untied the bra that she had been wearing as a bracelet for an occasion just like this. Gripping each end tightly, Faheema pulled the fabric taut, then lowered it down. A shadow fell in front of Bubbles' face as danger loomed.

“Don't worry, sister, I will take care not to break your neck...but Mariah doesn't know that,” as Faheema spoke, she wrapped the fabric of Bubbles' own bra once around her neck. Slowly, Faheema pulled her arms up and apart, drawing the noose tight to cut off the blonde's air. The quickest way to weaken Bubbles was to choke her until her face turned blue, and only when she had strangled the fight out of her victim would Faheema finally move on to a more pleasant sort of touch. Gagging and coughing were what she wanted out of Bubbles right now...and if she was lucky, the mournful cries of Mariah as well.

Faheema leaned back, pulling Bubbles up until her head was hoisted entirely off the mat, giving her a nice line of sight to her wife nearby. Muscles flexed as Faheema stretched her hands farther and farther apart, squeezing Bubbles' neck with the cloth until flesh started to bulge around it.

Fear.

It wasn’t something that Bubbles experienced often in her life, rarely ever in the ring. That was one of the great things about being so big, having this strength, wielding the power. So few things could really hurt. Even when she did lose a match, it was typically because she screwed something up or got tricked. She’d almost forgotten what it was like to get beaten down, if she ever knew in the first place.

But Faheema was reminding her. Harshly. But, perhaps, not in the way that she was expecting - Bubbles’ fear came when she looked up and saw Mariah through hazy eyes, registered the terrified expression on her face, and knew that something bad was coming.

She smiled, did her best to try and play it off in the hopes of calming her wife down. ”Hey-”

It was a nice idea, but Faheema nixed it the moment she started hammering Bubbles in the head. Blows came raining down, an agonizing downpour, battering her head left and right and left and right. Bubbles might’ve been a ‘big, horny tank’ like Mariah loved to call her, but inside that tank was a human brain, one that didn’t take kindly to being molly whopped.

What happened next, Bubbles couldn’t say at first. For a moment, things got dark. Too dark. She must’ve been knocked out, but not for too long, because nothing much had changed when she came to. The only difference was that Mariah seemed more panicked that ever, the crowd was getting wild, and there was something around her neck. Something tight and growing tighter, squeezing, closing in, until…

If gags and sputters were what Faheema wanted, she wouldn’t go home unpleased. The noises that came from Bubbles mouth were inhuman, retched and reviled, a strange cacophony of coughs as she weakly struggled underneath Faheema’s grasp. Try as she might, there was no getting the bestial beauty off her back, and every effort she made just seemed to make the noose squeezer tighter.

She groaned, she gulped, she wheezed, she whined. Every second she grew weaker, and her eyes began to roll back into her head as Mariah looked on, gripping the apron tight and fighting the strong urge to not save the love of her life. The referee came over and kneeled nearby, exchanging nervous glances between Bubbles and her tormentress. Rules or not, this wasn’t a deathmatch, and she had no way of knowing how far Faheema would go…

Bubbles would not have believed it, but Faheema was holding back right now. In a pure fight, she could have broken something important already, and she was usually callous enough to risk such an injury. However, Mariah's last minute rule change had saved her wife from the worst that her opponent was capable of. Faheema needed Bubbles in one piece now, for all the sex that she was planning to have. Her imagination was already lighting up as she pondered how best to spend her next 24 hours with the giant.

Leniency by Faheema's standards could still be dangerous, however, especially with the observation of how much fun she was having strangling Bubbles. Oxygen deprivation was another turn on for the violent lover, and the pitiful sounds uttered by her poor victim made Faheema's skin tingle with delight. It was getting her hot and bothered, a turn evidenced by the warm fluid leaking from her loins onto her opponent's shoulder blades.

In her bliss, Faheema almost pushed Bubbles too far. Her garrote was now so tight that Bubbles' neck was visibly smaller than it had been a moment ago, with vital arteries and bones pressed tightly against one another. Luckily, the worried gaze from the referee and the audience, looking on in horror, all had a sobering effect on her. As nasty as Faheema could be in a fight, she didn't want people to think of her as a savage. Her muscles slowly relaxed, as she carefully unwound the bra and freed her opponent to plop back down on the canvas. It was time to steer this fight back into calmer territory.

Faheema shifted, giving up her seat on top of the woman's back to lie down directly on top of her instead. Her arms came up to wrap around Bubbles' in a full nelson, interlocking her fingers at the back of her opponent's head to close the trap. Holding Bubbles at the head left the back of her neck exposed, wreathed with scarlet, if temporary marks where the cloth of the bra had left an impression. While she was deciding how to sexually subjugate her opponent, there was no harm in making amends for her misdeeds.

“Stay still for me now,” Faheema huffed, spreading her legs over the blonde's lower body and settling in as if on the world's comfiest mattress. “Let me soothe your tender flesh,” she whispered as she lowered her head down. Pressing her lips against the hot skin of her opponent, Faheema started lavishing affection across her opponent's neck, kissing and licking the smooth flesh. Her full nelson proved invaluable in forcing Bubbles to tilt her head from one side to the other, allowing her wandering tongue to travel all the way down each side of Bubbles' neck, nuzzling her and extending her tongue massage as far as it could go. Faheema's tongue, after all, was no different from Faheema herself: strong, dexterous, and oh-so curious to explore the body of another woman.