The War: Bianca "Bubbles" Burste vs. Femke "Golden" Brouwer

The Russian felt guilty for missing even a few seconds of the fight in the ring, for letting her own needs take precedence, if just for this one moment, over Femke's. It was a momentary lapse, one which hardly ever happened nowadays...and only happened when there was something absolutely trascendant to pry her attention away from her heavenly spouse. In this case, her fuck with Mariah, as quick and dirty as it may have been, was just about enough for her to see God. She laid limply on top of her counterpart, panting, her face red as she turned it and pressed together with Mariah cheek to cheek, both of them now returning their attention to the battle which was still raging in the ring.

A shiver went through her as Mariah suggested they might need to be punished. The Russian clung more tightly to her lighter-haired friend. "Mmn...yes...I feel so dirty...a punishment vould be very good, I tink..." she admitted, with a soft, wistful sigh of her own.

While their wives cuddled and daydreamed about being treated so roughly, Femke and Bubbles were locked in their dirty duel, and despite her dominant position Femke was easily on the losing end of the battle right now. She knew she was going to cum, and all she could do now was try to score points, to cushion her lead as much as possible by forcing Bubbles towards her fourth orgasm while she still had yet to experience her third. She tugged that nipple, and rubbed that pussy...her ass firmly rooted on Bubbles's face, her own features contorted into a mask of confusion and bitter pleasure as she finally tumbled over the edge, losing her control, cumming against her will yet again and cursing the fact that it felt so good!

She felt Bubbles roar into her ass, her hot breath washing into her, the ululation sending trembles up into Femke's body, coursing through her like wildfire. She tensed up, she arched her back, she threw her head backward, face turned upward towards the lights as her hands stopped their work. She let out a wild, uninhibited scream, crying out until her throat felt raw. Her whole body convulsed as she came, spilling her juices yet again onto Bubbles, coating her fingers, and her big tits underneath, as she still remained in her seat on Bubbles's face, that wonderful tongue in her tail...but her body was limp, and totally at the mercy of the woman underneath her.

It pained Mariah to part from Darya and give up their sweaty, steamy embrace, but it wasn’t like she had much choice in the matter - they had to separate sometime, after all. As much as she loved the touch, they couldn’t stayed intertwined. Especially not when their most beloveds were still engaged in ferocious sensual combat. ”I did have this idea for punishment, something we could try after they…” She caught herself, remembering who she was talking to. ”...after Bubbles wins.” Much better. ”I bought this weird little device that we can stick in our pussies, and-”

Mariah was in the middle of giving Darya an indecent proposal, when she heard a noise that had became quite familiar to her in the past few minutes: the sound of a giant Netherlander screaming in ecstasy. The audience was confused, and understandably so. From their vantage point, Femke had just inexplicably exploded after riding Bubbles hard for over a minute. But the picture became clearer as Golden fell forward and Bubbles began to lift up, showing just where her tongue had been and all the naughtiness it had been up to.

”Gotcha.” Bubbles raspily whispered, speaking through heated as she started to sit up, inhaling the oxygen she’d been too-long denied. ”Gotcha.”

Bubbles was aching in more ways than one. In that short burst of time, Femke had done a number on her body, wrecking it with pain and pleasure. Her breasts were aflame, and the same could said of her pussy for different reasons. If Femke had just a few more seconds, just a few more, she wouldn’t have been the only dark-skinned giantess screaming her lungs out.

She needed a breather, needed to recoup, but  she’d come too far and gone too hard for that. She wanted to finish this, to put an end to her rival, and she had a fair idea of how to do that, too. The first step was getting Femke on her back, though, and that was going to be a challenge enough by itself.  ”Here we go, here we go…”

Bubbles slithered over Femke’s backside, her breasts rubbing up that golden spine as she crawled. Grabbing her twin by the shoulder, she lifted her up and pulled her over with a mighty heave, flipping her over on her while she straddled the waist. In truth, she should’ve kept going from there, just moved into the hold she was planning on doing, not wasted any time.

But she had to pause. She saw Femke’s fiery eyes, that smoldering look, and she couldn’t help herself.

With a soft sigh, she dropped down and pressed their lips together, kissing her newfound lover in a show of respect and lust and honor. Just a quick pause before the carnage and craving restarted.

Darya did not want to pull away from Mariah. Right now, it felt so good just to cuddle up close to her, to press their cheeks together, to press their tits together, to share warmth between them and let themselves be glued together by the juices soaking their lower bodies. But it had to end. They had to commit their full attention to the match. Their little lapse deserved to be punished, and Darya liked the direction Mariah was going in. "Yes, yes...after Golden wins," Darya would retort, not letting Mariah get away with that one. But she had an inkling of the sort of device Mariah was talking about, and if it was what she thought it was, then the idea sounded absolutely, undeniably...

That train of thought, and Mariah's sentence, and pretty much everything that was going on anywhere in the arena was brought abruptly to a halt when Femke screamed in ecstasy and shuddered, her orgasm taking many by surprise, though Darya and Mariah had known exactly what was happening. Bubbles pushed up now, and Femke fell forward, limp, stunned after an amazing tonguing to her ass, letting her twin breathe again as her face came free from between the Dutch woman's swarthy butt cheeks.

Femke moaned again as she felt her rival's body sliding out from underneath her, moving towards her feet, big tits and a toned, tough belly and sumptuous thighs brushing over her still-tender sex as Bubbles moved...and then, all of a sudden, Bubbles shoved Femke over, turning her onto her back, and straddled her waist. Femke huffed, groaned as she felt the weight of her doppelganger on top of her. After that orgasm, in this hot minute of afterglow, she felt exposed, vulnerable, as Bubbles turned her over. Bubbles had at least one free shot at her at that point. But the American woman would use it in a way that they both could appreciate.

"Mmmmmnnn..." Femke moaned into the kiss, as Bubbles pressed their bodies together, tits on tits, and mouth to mouth, pressing their lips together in a sweet act with the Dutchwoman recognized as one of respect. Femke, spurred on by the feeling of those lips on hers, puckered up and pressed upwards into Bubbles's lips, bringing her hands upward, too...

...not to do anything dastardly, but to run them through Bubbles's short yet silky hair, caress her head, show her appreciation for a wonderful match, show Bubbles just how much she had enjoyed this war. It was not done yet—in all likelihood, the most explosive, incredible part of the fight was still yet to come. But right now, in the calm before the storm, the two rivals just enjoyed the feeling of each other's lips, and each other's bodies, as they both admired the amazing woman pressing into them.

Two women, intertwined, separated, yet whole at the same time. It was like something out a beautiful painting - in fact, if Bubbles could find someone in Japan to actually do it, she would’ve loved to hang a portrait of this moment on the wall. Dark and moving water colors, something that captured the brilliance of the scene, the detail in their muscles, the flashes of light all around them…

That was something Bubbles could go to sleep staring at.

Mariah had similar sentiments as she came down from the high she and Mariah had worked their way up to. She paid Darya’s comment little mind, giving it no more than a smirk and a nod towards the ring. They could clearly see who was on top now, Femke and Bubbles didn’t look that identical, and while she was sure the Russian had faith in her wife, that faith could only go so far. An invisible clock was ticking, counting down until they both ran out of energy, and whoever was on top when that happened would be the victor. Like musical chairs, only with no chairs, and much more sex.

The sight of Bubbles kissing another woman from on top, covering her both, and dominating her mouth was something that Mariah would never tire of if she lived to be a thousand years old. But she knew her love well. She knew how she thought. As painfully beautiful as this scene was, it was the eye of the storm, and the waves were about to come crashing in.

Bubbles felt it, a building energy that coursed through her and Femke as they embraced, sharing a passion they usually reserved for their wives.  Oh, she reveled in the moment, taking the opportunity to map out her opponent’s body, running her fingers over every inch of flesh she could reach. But it was transitory, and she could only hold off her baser instincts for so long.

She wouldn’t apologize, but she would explain, with one sentence after she finally managed to pull their lips apart. ”I have to have you.”

With that said, she planted her hand on the floor, lifted her lower body up, then brought her knees together and dropped them both into Femke’s stomach, driving the bunker buster home with all the weight she could spare.

As the two managers disentangled, Darya set her analytical mind once again to the examination of the match, to try to pry from what she saw and heard and sensed a good sense of where this match was heading. She knew Mariah was doing much the same thing, and, even though the two of them had no bearing on how the fight would turn out, Darya would like to be able to say that she had out-thought her beautiful American counterpart, in the end. So far, the match had been prone to the most wild swings of momentum, each amazon taking her turn picking the other apart, piece by piece. That trend would more than likely continue, and they both clearly had enough strength left that the current state of the match would not be the one it finished in. Bubbles was on top now, and Femke would be on top again. Then it was a matter of seeing how much stamina the two warriors had left then.

Mariah could smirk all she wanted, but Darya could smirk right back, confident that her wife had just as much of a chance on paper to win this as Bubbles, even when she was on the bottom. And matches weren't even fought on paper alone...

Femke needed to find every picture she could of this moment. She wanted to immortalize it, to burn it into her memory, from every possible angle. She never wanted to forget how she felt wrapped up together with Bubbles, feeling the heat from her opponent's body as it pressed down into hers, feeling the oil on her, feeling the sweat. The kiss was sumptuous and sweet, and some part of Femke wanted this to just go on forever.

But she had business to attend to. And so did Bubbles.

The shorter-haired titaness lifted up, breaking the kiss, and spoke. Femke huskily grunted, a flicker of a smile on her lips. She knew the position Bubbles was in. She knew what her opponent could do to her before she had any hope of preventing it. And she accepted it. She would not be done—not by a long shot. After a few seconds, she gave Bubbles a small nod. Do what you need to do. And I'll do the same, when it's my turn.

Those knees drove deep into her gut, breaking through her abs and punching into her soft underbelly, making Femke shriek, throwing her head back, mouth agape, contorted in agony. A spray of spittle would coat Bubbles's face, rewarding her for the brutal assault, as Femke's body slumped down, and the Dutch fighter writhed and thrashed underneath her foe!

Mariah was having similar thoughts to Darya at the moment, watching the match unfold with a keen eye, trying hard to remember the last time she’d seen her wife turn into such a savage. Bubbles was so sweet, so kind, so sensual, so happy, it was easy to forget that she had a body that could tear most women in half if they crossed her. People often accused her of being too lackadaisical, but she didn’t think they would want the alternate, either - the wrestling world wasn’t ready for what her wife would be like if she became unhinged.

She was thinking of other things, too, namely the after-match arrangements. Regardless of whoever won, the two warrior women would need some time to recover, lick their wounds, and prepare their playgrounds. Bubbles was a big lady, and as such, she tended to make a lot of noise all on her lonesome, with the occasional bit of property damage. With two Bubbles? God, she hoped the walls in their hotel were as soundproof as they’d been advertised…

At the moment, such details were the farthest thing from Bubbles’ mind. All she could focus on was the smile that had graced Femke’s face, a moment before she obliterated the woman’s abs. Cute. Surprisingly cute, coming from the maw of a lioness. Mariah had always told her how cute she could be, and she had always found it hard to believe, but seeing it on the face of her mirror-image did wonders.

A shame she had to make such a smile disappear. A shame.

But all was fair in love and war, and this battle was heaped with both. Femke understood that, Bubbles could see it in her eyes, so she hammered away without a second of remorse, not feeling the least bit sorry for what she’d done - or what she was about to do.

With Femke hurting, Bubbles reached over and wrapped her arm around the massive mane, seizing her golden’s skull in a front facelock. That was the easy part.

The hard part came when Bubbles began to stand, hauling Femke off the mat as she rose. She wasn’t just lifting her up this time. Instead, she had something more dynamic in mind, a fact she made clear as she started to lift Femke up, up, up off the ground…

...and had to stop. Bubbles stood there, keeping Femke aloft, halfway through what seemed to be a vertical suplex. The only problem was that she didn't have the energy to finish it. Femke was many things, clearly, but light was not one of them. Pulling off this move would’ve been a struggle at the beginning of the match, when she was fine and fit as any fiddle. Now? It was a Herculean task, even for someone with her strength. A true testament to how badly the match had worn away on her body.

In the end, Bubbles knew she couldn’t complete the move, that she had to put Femke down, but she wouldn’t do it lightly. With a grunt, she dropped her fulsome foe hard on the canvas, slamming her on the mat with a powerful gourdbuster, with only her bulbous breasts to cushion the impact.

As ferocious as this match was, it was not going to end until one of these giants was not only out cold, but out so hard that she would not be awakened too easily. The other would hardly be in better shape, and that brought to Darya's mind the question of how they were going to transport hundreds of kilograms' worth of muscle and sweet curves from the arena to the hotel where the night's fun was set to take place. Between that and setup, Darya and Mariah were going to have their hands quite full...and, of course, there were some special implements which Darya was not going to allow Mariah to see before they were ready to use them.

It would be a whirlwind hour or two, but it would all be worth it when their wonderland of sexual debauchery was set up and the four of them were ready to use it. Darya just hoped they didn't cause so much damage that AFW balked at the bill.

Femke, meanwhile, just hoped she could hold on. She still had strength, she still had energy, she still had the will to fight, but Bubbles was so strong, and she was on top, and for perhaps the first time in her life Femke was feeling like she could enjoy losing—the indomitable Golden would be perfectly happy being Bubbles's pet, being her slave for the evening. Her doppelganger had earned it. Bubbles was absolutely incredible in every way, not only in terms of her body, but her mind and her spirit, too. She was just a genuinely sweet, amiable human being and she was already one of Femke's favorite people besides her wife.

Even after those knees slammed into her gut and made the Dutchwoman squeal like a greased pig.

Bubbles wrapped her up, pulling her in close, Femke's face close enough to Bubbles's body to feel her heat, to smell her musk. Femke moaned and tried to thrash, feeling Bubbles's strong arms tightening around her. Just like that, her foe had lifted her up, and held her in the air. Femke braced herself, having a feeling that she knew what was going to happen, knowing how much it was going to hurt... Fuck, it'll be tough coming back from...

It didn't happen the way she thought. Bubbles slammed her back down into the canvas, right on her front, Femke's tits pancaking against the ring surface and air once again being forced from her lungs. The front of her big, buxom body burned after such an abrasive impact, but she was still conscious, still in fighting shape. Quickly, she tried to roll over onto her back, and tried to lash out at Bubbles with a kick to put some distance between the two of them, if she could—just enough so that she could think for a second!

Did Bubbles want to lose? No. Never. While she wouldn’t have typically cared too much about losing or winning so long as her sexual needs were met, this match was a different sort of thing. It had been ages since she was a full-time bodybuilder, but that spirit of competition still had place within her soul, and it was coming out fiercer that ever today. When would she have another chance like this? To test herself against someone similar, to know what it was like to fuck herself? The opportunity couldn’t be passed up.

But if - if - she lost, being beaten by such a beauty wouldn’t be the worst thing ever. Mariah was having similar thoughts, thinking what it would be like if she were the one trapped under that sweaty, oily ass, getting smothered out by an amazon. Certainly an alluring proposal…

”Random question.” She tapped her chin and gave a sly glance Mariah’s way. ”What’s the most sensual way that Femke’s ever knocked you out?”

It was a question Bubbles herself had pondered off and on during the match, particularly when she had a faceful of Golden’s golden ass all over her face, imagining all the times Darya had been in the same situation. At the moment, though, she had more lucid, important thoughts going on, like what she was going to do with her downed opponent. She’d just slammed Femke hard into the mat, made a serious impact, and things seemed good for a follow through. Something that wouldn’t task her too much. Like, say, a facesit.

That thought was too perfect too ignore, and Bubbles started to move over Femke’s body with that idea in mind, looking to pay her foe by putting her in the same hot, humid hell. Before she could, however, she ran into a small obstacle. Namely, Femke’s leg.

It came up faster, faster than Bubbles would have ever expected, testifying to her opponent’s resilience. The blow landed squarely on her forehead and filled the Virgin Killer’s world with stars, as she flopped onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. For now, that was all she could do, really - roll her head from side to side, caress her skull, doing her best to regain some semblance of sense.

Darya, like the other three women, was pondering what would happen should her wife come out on the losing end of this battle, and, despite her competitive spirit, she found the thought of being a prisoner of the two Americans, suffocating underneath Bubbles's big, bouncy, oily ass, having to endure the ministrations of her fellow scheming manager, to be more than acceptable. She would enjoy being bent to the wills of Mariah and Bubbles, almost as much as she would enjoy working the two of them over in the event of Femke's victory.

Almost. Darya was not admitting defeat yet, and she was not going to give up all of the devious designs she had spent the last few weeks laying out. She had poured a lot of heart and soul into this project, not to mention time and money, and it would be a shame of shames should she not have the opportunity to stretch Mariah out in her favorite new implement and use the...

Mariah's question was an interesting one, and one which was difficult for Darya to answer, for more than one reason. "Vell...for very much of our early 'relationship,' our encounters vere everyting but sensual..." she would admit, as she mulled over what might count as the most sensual way Femke had ever knocked her out. "I vould say...vhen Femke once tied me to ze bed...shoved a pair of her soaked panties in my mouth...and laid on me all day...I would drift out under her ass, zen wake up to her tits..." Darya smiled and sighed, wiggling a bit as the thought made her more than a little hot.

"I did not know how devious her mind could be until zat day, and it vas someting...but oh, zere are so many other times..." It was difficult for her to settle on just one moment, even one as hot as that one.

In the ring, Femke felt a pang of guilt as she thrust her leg forward, letting her sole smack into Bubbles's forehead and send her opponent spinning...then crashing down to the canvas, with a boom that resounded throughout the arena, and a quake which made the ring creak and groan, seemingly on the verge of collapsing, and which bounced Femke up and down, almost making her nauseous. She tried to sit up...

...and she fell back down onto her back. It didn't matter if Bubbles hadn't been able to suplex her the way she wanted to. That impact had utterly rocked Femke's world, and the Dutchwoman wasn't in a spot any better than her foe was right now. Both of them were down on their backs, staring up at the ceiling...and whoever could get into an attacking position first would have an incredible advantage.

"S-sorry, Bubbles...I'm really very sorry...you deserve so much better than a cheap kick to the head...you've fought such a perfect match and I have to resort to flailing to beat you..." Femke groaned, speaking at the ceiling but hopefully clearly enough for her opponent to hear. Slowly, she would try to roll herself over onto her front, tits pressing into the canvas, head throbbing, as she tried to then slowly lift her chin up and at least lay eyes on her gorgeous, perfect opponent.

Mariah was keeping an eye on the goings-on in the ring, but, once again, she found herself distracted - and, subsequently, turned on - by Darya. She had a fairly decent imagination and the Russian’s words made it come alive. She could just picture her and her wife in some dark room, the sunlight barely slipping through the closed curtains, with the thick, cloying scent of their arousal in the air. The muffled screams. The sighs. The shrieks. The creaking bed, threatening to collapse under all that thrashing muscle.

”God, that sounds so hot.” Stating the blindingly obvious, but it had to be said. Mariah’s hand went to her breast without even thinking, as she sought some way to give herself relief. After everything she and Darya had done, she still needed it. ”An entire day of just...fucking. Bubbles and I’ve never done that, never thought to, but…” She chewed on her lip, before turning to Darya and putting a hand on her shoulder and leaning in close.

”If you win - if...I want you to do that to me. It doesn’t have to be all day, but just for a few hours…” She gave Darya’s shoulder a good squeeze and massaged it, taking a moment to savor the feel on her fingers. Every touch was electric pleasure. ”The things we are going to do to each other are going to be legendary, Darya. They’ll have to make new words to fucking describe it.”

Back in the ring, Bubbles was still reeling from the blow to her skull, a hit that wouldn’t have been that pleasant to take in any circumstance. When she was tired, worn out, ‘suffering’ from multiple orgasms, and probably starting to get dehydrated? Much harder. The only comfort was that Femke seemed every bit as drained, even though the last bit of business had been all on her. They were human - big, muscular, nymphomaniac humans, but humans.

”Hey, don’t apologize.” Bubbles shook her head as she started to stir, ignoring her body’s protests. The crowd was starting to clap, egging them on, as the final spurt of the match began. Everyone could feel it in the air - the winner was going to be decided soon, and the finish would be explosive. ”All’s fair in love and war, right? So when you put them together…”

Bubbles let that sentence finish itself, while she rose in tandem with Femke. For what might be the final time, she stared into two fiery embers and saw herself reflected. ”Let’s do it.”

That was all she said and all she needed to say, right before she lashed out with a wild right hook to Femke’s face.