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

Femke cut Bubbles off with that side headlock, arm closing like a steel trap around that head, smashing Bubbles's face into her nearly-unclothed brown body, rubbing those adorable, eerily familiar facial features right into her oily flank. That shut Bubbles up, which actually was not even Femke's intention. She wanted to hear more of the woman's sexy alto voice. The punch to the tit got a bit of a grunt, but not much more out of the dashing American brawler. Femke, while she was still in control, was going to take full advantage of it, though, more than just a single fist smashing into the woman's chest. She brought her hand up again, wiggling all five fingers for the crowd to see, and then swung it around in an almost perfectly circular arc, to collide with Bubbles's ass cheek with a tremendous smack, sending that ass jiggling...and jiggling...more and more, on and on.

Sploosh. Femke really was in love.

Femke enjoyed watching that meaty rump bounce as she gave Bubbles's head a twist in the lock, trying to crank on some pain in addition to plain pleasure. As nicely as she had it locked in, she knew Bubbles would find a way out. She would never discount the woman's strength, not after what she had seen, the incredible feats on Pornhub which she dreamed about experiencing. Femke's brain raced, trying to anticipate what move would come. She made sure Bubbles had no leverage for pushing, and kept her feet planted firmly on the oily tarp to avoid attacks on her legs.

Darya, meanwhile, was not exactly excited when Mariah pulled her phone out and pointed the camera at the two brawling amazons. Well, no—she was excited. The sick sort of excitement one felt deep in their stomach, when they really didn't want to be excited, but couldn't help it. She knew this countdown spelled trouble on the horizon for her wife. A part of her even wanted to yell out to Femke. But, of course, no matter what Bubbles did...

...it was going to be amazing. Darya had to see this. "If Bubbles is so predictable, zis should be very good for Femke going forward," she intoned, but even she was not totally sold on that, as the countdown reached two, then one, and...

BAM! Femke was not used to getting lifted up into the air. She knew it would likely happen tonight, but hadn't expected it right now. Not when she had Bubbles practically choking in a side headlock. The strength the woman demonstrated...it really was something else! She swung Femke through the air as if she weighed little more than a toddler, smashing her down hard on her back, eliciting a soft shriek as Femke's arm let go of Bubbles's head and she flopped down into the oil, the warm liquid splashing up all around them and showering them as Bubbles pressed her down into the tarp! Femke quickly tried to roll, hoping to kick away from Bubbles if she could. She knew she was in a vulnerable position. And her incredible bombshell of an opponent might just be able to take advantage...!

Did Bubbles mind Femke slapping her ass like that? Nope. Of course not. She welcomed it, and hoped her counterpart got a thrill out of seeing the cheeks jiggle. Her only concern was that she might get tired of the sight if she saw them too often, that she might truly develop the immunity she’d been failing at before. That would be a tragedy - as much as Bubbles planned on fucking Femke until she couldn’t see straight, she wanted to do it as fresh as possible
That was part of the reason she was eager to launch one of her bigger guns.  Another reason came down to her wanting to see how far she could chuck Femke, if she could even pull it off in the first place without breaking her back. Another reason still was that it was just plain fun.

”Like I was saying.” Bubbles popped back up after the successful suplex and looked at Femke over her shoulder, admiring her handiwork. Hopefully, Mariah took pictures. ”I’m just getting warmed up.”

With that slice of heaven done, Mariah brought her phone down and started scanning over the clip, getting a widening grin as she saw how well it came out. She’d gotten the whole thing recorded in glorious detail, loved every second. A definite addition for Mariah’s highlight package.

”Predictable?” She scoffed at the notion and leaned against Darya, speaking hot words right into her ear. ”You mean you don’t know your wife’s moves inside and out?” She reached over and gave Darya’s meaty thigh a pinch, teasing and getting a feel at the same time. ”I taught her that move, years ago. Helped her perfect it. So when Femke came in and grabbed her with the headlock, well…”

That sentence didn’t need finishing, so Darya left it alone, instead bringing her eyes back to the ring. Bubbles was making her way back up to her feet, but Femke was in full retreat, wisely rolling to the ropes and making distance between them. Running would be difficult with the oil, she knew. At best she wouldn’t catch up to the femme fatale fast enough, at worst she’d slip on the oil and bust something important.

So Bubbles decided to just bypass the mat entirely. She took a step forward, building up some force and momentum, then used it all to propel herself forward. For what had to be frightening moment, the lights above Femke blotted out as the silhouette of a large, musclebound woman came falling down on her. As Bubbles flew, she kicked out her legs and tried to come crashing on Femke back first with a running - or leaping, in this case - senton.

Femke slipped and slid quickly away from Bubbles after the American let go, gliding along across the oil-slick tarp, over to the ropes which were not altogether too far away after the suplex. Femke reached them after only a few seconds of sliding, and was not expecting them to be so close, as evidenced by a slightly embarrassing move when she ran her shoulders right into the rope without even looking. She grunted, then grabbed on and started to hoist herself up. It was incredible. Not only had Bubbles lifted her up in the air...she had chucked her nearly halfway across the ring, or so it seemed, at least, to Femke's unscientific mind. That was incredible. When was the last time Femke had actually been chucked around...? When was the last time someone had made her airborne...?

Bubbles was doing things no other woman had done to her in a long time, and it was surprising Femke, as her usual muscle memory would not work against Bubbles all of the time. Some things she took for granted against weaker girls, and smaller girls, even those who were only a couple of inches shorter, would not work against a woman who was for all intents and purposes her clone.

Her perfect match.

Mariah, meanwhile, would chastise Darya for her teasing comment, giving her thigh a pinch and eliciting a soft "hup" from the Russian. Darya would wait for her opportunity to fire back, wait until Femke had Bubbles in trouble so she could gloat. For now, she bit her tongue. "Yes, yes, but you just vait and see..."

Femke, meanwhile, grasped the rope with one hand and began to hoist herself up. But she would not rise very far. Bubbles came after her. And she didn't come after her on the mat, no. She came after her...from the sky. It was terrifying, for a moment, to see a flying object coming down on top of her, the size of a jungle cat, a silhouette with the most perfect proportions a woman could ever achieve. Femke's eyes widened. She braced for impact, tightening her abs and biting down hard, clenching her teeth.

But still, when that back landed on her midsection, flattening her tits into her chest and bashing against her rock-hard abdomen, she cried out, loudly. Spittle flew from her mouth, misting over Bubbles's ear, as Femke was flattened again against the canvas, floundering. "Huuoohgh!" she woofed, as Bubbles's full weight came down on her.

She was a powerhouse, of course. She refused to take any blow without fighting back. Right now, she could not slam into Bubbles in exchange. But one thing she could do, with the woman treating her almost like a pillow, back on her belly...was reach up with both hands and grab onto Bubbles's tits, giving them a firm squeeze to show she was not going down so easily!

Mariah was, of course, having a ball, for so many different reasons. Bubbles was off to a rousing start, and while even her horse wasn’t high enough for her to think that couldn’t and wouldn’t change before the match ended, she could relish in her dominance for the moment. It was always a pleasure to watch Bubbles work, but to see her do so with a woman like Femke...well, she’d grown so used to seeing her make smaller women into ragdolls that she’d almost forgotten how truly powerful that body of hers was.

”I hope I won’t have to wait too long.” As Bubbles rose up and closed in on Femke, Mariah settled back in with Darya, whispering husky words into the Russian’s ear. ”You’ve given her quite a lot of hype to live up to.”

As wrapped up as she was in Femke at the moment, Bubbles didn’t miss the sight of Mariah cozying up with Darya on the side. It was the briefest glance, and for most women, the vast majority, that would’ve brought out some jealous feelings. For Bubbles, it just made her burst with anticipation. Mariah had became quite enamored with the Russian, was planning all sorts of wonderful things, and she was counting on her wife to make them happen. Bubbles didn’t dare disappoint.

That was all the fuel she needed to drive her forward, make her leap high and come crashing down on Femke’s prone form.

It was an awkward crash, as just about any move in a pool of oil had to be, but it did its job if the anguished cry from Femke was anything to go by. It was a testament to the Dutchwoman’s power and prowess that she could move at all after such a crushing blow. Bubbles had knocked lesser women clean out with less before, but Femke? Down, sure, but far from out.

A good thing, really. If Femke had been knocked out, Bubbles wouldn’t have gotten the lovely feeling of her hands on the succulent flesh of breasts, wouldn’t have had the opportunity to moan as they grabbed and gripped and groped. The strategic thing to do would’ve been to pull away, knowing that she not only risked Femke turning her heat against, but also giving her foe time to recover. Strategic...but not hot. She had better options. More interesting ones, at the least.

Instead of resisting those fingers, Bubbles aided them, pressing her own hands on top of Femke’s and holding them against her tits. Always willing to give and receive, she moved up enough to let her ass slip into Femke’s lap, fitting there like it was made to. ”That as hard as you can go?” Bubbles started a hard grind in her foe’s lap, smashing the soft flesh of her ass against Femke’s barely covered sex, taking advantage of the oil for a slicker, quicker rubbing than normal. She looked over her shoulder, turning her head just enough to stare at Femke with one eye. ”Came here for a good fucking. Don’t disappoint me, now.”

Darya would scoff as Mariah leaned on her, leaning her head back into Mariah's, templing their skulls as they relaxed in each other's closeness. Darya reached up with one hand to find a wisp of that brown hair, twirling it around a finger, giving it a little tug as Mariah's trash talk continued. She didn't say anything yet. Femke was biding her time, shaking off the cobwebs. But even with the slow start for her lover, Darya could notice a couple of subtle movements the Dutch woman made, the way she grabbed onto those breasts, the way she lifted herself up onto her ass, leaning back against the ropes, as Bubbles pushed her ass back, grinding it against that barely-covered sex...those movements gave Darya an inkling of what her wife was going to do to her new playmate.

Bubbles had started off this match showing off her power. Femke, in contrast, was going to start off this match showing off her sensuality.

As Bubbles shoved her ass into Femke's crotch—a perfect fit, the Dutch woman could not help but notice with glee—and began rolling and grinding it, the Dutch woman would scoot herself back a bit, push herself up a bit, get into a sitting position behind her opponent. The two of them were now molded together perfectly, with Bubbles even clasping her hands over Femke's, pressing them harder into her mesh-covered breasts, while Femke was mesmerized by the ass pressing up between her thighs, big soft cheeks jiggling and bouncing, squishing all up in her business in a way which had her panting heavily, her sex getting wetter and maybe even leaving a wet patch on Bubbles's ass. Not that she would likely be able to tell with all the oil.

But Femke was not letting her foe stomp all over her. Bubbles wanted a fucking. Femke wanted to do some fucking. Femke was not going to lie down and take all of this from Bubbles no matter how wet the feats of strength the American performed made her. "You want...a good fucking?" Femke repeated gruffly, leaning in to speak right into Bubbles's ear, teeth even sliding along the lobe, lips gliding along the oil which had splashed upon it. The Dutch woman would slide her legs forward, then, suddenly, bring them upward and around Bubbles's legs, coiling them tight, then pulling back, stretching Bubbles into almost a full splits and pulling those legs wide open! Following it up, Femke immediately sent one hand down to that mesh-covered cooch, clearly visible when she was spread out like this, to tease Bubbles's pussy lips through the blue material of the sling bikini, tracing them slowly.

"Something like this...? More...?"

As little of a fan as Bubbles was of Mariah’s ‘business meeting’ - paperwork and details and talking about sex when she’d rather just be having it - she found herself extremely grateful for it now, as Femke started to sit up and leaned against the ropes. That would’ve forced a break in normal matches, but the No DQ clause meant they could go on and on and on. No interruptions. Perfect.

Though, being honest, even if the referee had been heckling them for touching the ropes, Bubbles would’ve just ignored her. With hands like this gripping her chest, breasts like those smashing against her back, and all that hot breath on her neck, how was she supposed to just stop? She was only human. A big, horny human, but human all the same.

For a moment, it was like art in motion, two Venuses wrapped against each, with skin so similar it was hard to tell where Femke’s skin ended and Bubbles’ began. Mariah was mesmerized by the site of it, her lip quivering in awe, but she wasn’t so enraptured that she didn’t notice the position Femke’s legs were sliding into, nor did she fail to see the trap that was about to be sprung. ”Wait-”

Her word came out as a whisper, too light to reach Bubbles’ ear through the din of the arena, but it wouldn’t have mattered much if it did. By that time, Femke’s legs had already intertwined with her wife’s, taking control and spreading them out. Bubbles began to put up a struggle, but that came to an abrupt halt the second those fingers found her pussy. When that happened, she started thrashing for an entirely different reason, as a throaty moan worked its way through her body. The hand that had been helping grip her own breast shot out, seeking something else to hold on to, and it found solace on the thigh below. Her nails raked along Femke’s thigh, leaving a dry, reddened trail in their wake.

”More.” She growled and arched her back, thrusting into Femke’s lap with renewed vigor, slapping against it with her cheeks and thrusting against those fingers in the same motions, heightening both their pleasures at the same time. She'd fallen into this trap, she'd concede that, but that didn't mean she could build some sexual capital for later, when the positions were inevitably reversed. Until then, though...

”More.”

It really was like a work of art, as the two women were wrapped up together, Femke's arms clamped tight to Bubbles's skin, hands practically glued to her breasts, Bubbles's rump pushing back to grind into Femke's crotch in small circles, the little black number the Dutch woman had been made to wear doing precisely no good in defending her against that kind of attack. The two of them had no interest in keeping each other at a distance. They were glued together, skin molding into one shared body, or so it appeared. They were goddesses, sculpted from bronze, and Darya, now, would lift her phone up to get a picture, zooming in between the top and middle ropes on this side of the ring to get their faces in focus, one beside the other, Bubbles's body spread out so invitingly...and so vulnerably...

Darya didn't give Mariah a countdown. She wanted to appreciate this masterwork in all its glory, and she was sure that the brunette would get the picture. Femke's feet were visible, sliding slowly along the oiled mat out towards Bubbles's feet, toes just barely peeking out from underneath those long, strong legs. Darya heard that little gasp next to her, and a sinister, almost evil grin spread across her face. Her finger hovered over the picture button, waiting for the exact moment...

...when the trap snapped shut. Or, rather, those legs snapped wide, wide open. Femke pulled the limbs apart with ease, the same ease with which Bubbles had tossed her halfway across the ring. Their bodies, as formidable as they were, were much more well-suited to wreaking havoc than stopping it from happening in the first place. Bubbles could toss Femke around. Femke could bend Bubbles into any position she wanted. Vice versa, vice versa.

The battle was still only just getting started.

Femke's legs spread Bubbles out perfectly, each leg pointing straight out to one side as her fingers found and began to slide along the American amazon's slit, stroking her through the mesh sling. Bubbles did not just sit there and take it. One moment, she was thrusting against those fingers, pressing her crotch hard up into them, rubbing up and down and heating herself up. The next, she had shoved her rear end backwards, slamming it into Femke's crotch with some force, grinding  and slapping against it and making the Dutch woman yip softly, very much aroused by that rough treatment. Oh, she was going to be very, very wet by the time she let Bubbles go. But not as wet as Bubbles. The American was going to be soaked.

"If you insist," Femke whispered, before her fingers ducked into the sling bikini, sliding under the blue net, and then, with little ado, suddenly plunging into Bubbles's sex, starting with two fingers together then swirling them in a big circle, rubbing all the outermost walls of that pussy, before slowly teasing inward folds with her fingernails, very gently scratching, suggesting she might go inward...once she had proof that her efforts were being appreciated. She added a little, almost milking tug on Bubbles's tit for good measure!

”Dang it, Bubbles…” Despite the words of dismay, Mariah couldn’t hide her arousal at the erotic assault happening before her. Yes, that was her wife being fingerfucked in that ring. Yes, this would both push her towards the brink and give her opponent time to recover from the opening volley, neither of which were good things. Yes, from a purely strategic point of view, this was not a positive development.

But, as she watched Bubbles moan and thrash and laugh and squeal in Femke’s grasp, she had a hard time feeling too bad about. Her wife was having the time of her life, and that was the important thing.

So, for the moment, she crossed her arms and sat back, enjoying the show. And Darya’s antics didn’t go unnoticed, either. Not that Mariah had any room to complain. Fair play, turnabout, all that. In fact… ”Hey…” She bit her lip and leaned to the side, getting a good view of the photos Darya was immortalizing. ”You wouldn’t mind sending those to my phone, would you?”

If Mariah liked those photos - and she certainly did - she was in luck, because they were about to get even better. Maybe it was a foregone conclusion that this battle would come out in Femke’s favor, but this was a marathon, not a sprint. Just because the first orgasm was hers didn’t mean the last would be.

So Bubbles decided to just enjoy the ride and do what she could to heat up Femke along the way. It wouldn’t take all that much, really. She’d started this fight wet, before a single drop of oil even touched her skin, and Darya’s machinations only exacerbated it. It was a small miracle that she hadn’t blown her top the second those fingers slid into her pussy. But now, what little resistance she had for this was broken away, and there was no stopping the unstoppable.

Her toes curled as Femke mined her sex with those probing fingers, going deep but not as deep as she could. A tease, and Bubbles’ letting a hoarse, tortured moan in response, shuddering from the anticipation. She was holding her orgasm off now, clamping down on it, not because she thought she could ride out the storm her opponent was bringing - far from it. She wanted to save her explosion just long enough to feel the divine pleasure Femke could bring. To see what her unspoken promise held.

If she hadn’t made it clear enough, she slammed her fist into the mat and went into a bucking frenzy, pounding Femke’s lap into the canvas. ”Go, go, come on!” She panted breathlessly, her voice so ragged that it was impossible to tell if she was demanding or pleading.

Darya couldn't help but snicker as she heard Mariah's dismaying, urging her wife to fight back but realizing that it would do the woman in the ring absolutely no good. Bubbles had done good to take the early lead, but she let herself get wrapped up in the novelty of tossing around a woman as large and powerful as herself and had failed to secure Femke's limbs in a way which might have prevented what was happening to her.

Of course, one orgasm was not going to inconvenience Bubbles much. Darya and Femke had watched her matches, and they knew that her endurance bordered on the legendary—bordered on the Femke. One, two, or ten orgasms were not going to be enough to put Bubbles down for good.

But Darya was still celebrating. It was still a fantastic start for her girl. And Mariah, despite her intiial disappointment, was coming around to the idea of watching her wife get finger-blasted in front of an audience of millions. As she took pictures, Darya leaned over to give Mariah a kiss on the cheek. "I vill show you mine if you vill show me yours," she agreed, with a little giggle. "I tink ve both vill want to put zese to good use many times..."

If Femke had ever doubted that Bubbles was as attracted to her as she was to Bubbles, she now had undeniable proof, as her fingers slipped between the woman's labia to find a pussy which was already dripping, even before the touching began. Her own pussy was feeling warm and wet, leaking a bit onto Bubbles's big, bouncing ass as it grinded back into her, eliciting some moans as her chin fell on Bubbles's shoulder and she panted hotly against the woman's ear. She could enjoy herself, too. And a few minutes more of that sort of ass-on-crotch treatment might be enough to make her cum.

But Bubbles did not have a few more minutes.

Even if Femke had planned to prolong her efforts, Bubbles would not let her. That ass slammed into her hard, practically plastering her into the canvas, as the shorter-haired amazon begged. Femke opened her mouth and let out a loud, almost shrieking moan as her own sex was throbbing with desire. But she did what Bubbles wanted. She wanted to be finished off? Well, then, Femke would slide those two fingers as deep as they could go, separating them and wiggling, bringing them back together and swirling them around, one stroking, the other jabbing!

"Come on then, squirt!" she cried. "Squirt, baby girl, squirt!"

For this match, management was experimenting with an interesting touch: mood lighting. As Bubbles moved down the path to her explosive release, the lights dimmed around the crowd, putting the focus solely on the ring and giving certain patrons limited, but much appreciated, privacy. For a moment, as the two of the wrestle

The crowd was growing paradoxically quiet now, looking on in hushed silence as the erotic battle raged in the center. It wasn't completely quiet, as the occasional gasp managed to make its way down to ringside, along with scattered moans from newer fans who weren't able to hide their arousal as well as the old timers. But the sonorous sound of Bubbles’ cries dominated the scene, a growing growl of ecstasy that seemed to resonate  louder with each passing second.

Mariah was trying hard to remember the last time she'd heard Bubbles reach this level. Her wife was never what one would call a ‘quiet lover’ - wall thickness was a frequent consideration in every hotel room they rented, after a rather unpleasant - but amusing - incident with the two of them getting booked next door to a group of traveling missionaries. Still, as loud as she'd known Bubbles to get, these levels were something else, to the point she had to wonder if Femke’s ears were ringing.

It was quite a sight to see, as the two women pounded each other in the ring, Femke fiercely working Bubbles to an orgasm while Bubbles ground away. Oil splattered about, and more than  a few droplets made their way into the audience. Those weren’t the only things spilling, though, as the Virgin Killer’s work reached its zenith. In that moment, Mariah was glad that they had decided to make this so much more than a hentai match - if it had been, it would be one of the quickest, most decisive losses in Bubbles career.

With one long, final, wailing scream, Femke’s fingers struck white gold. The orgasm sent Bubbles into frenzied shock, making her jolt about as the fearsome wave ran through her. It was a thunderous, wondrous sight, as she convulsed and let herself be carried away in the heat of the moment, as spurt after spurt shot into the air, mixing in the with the oil below to create a cloudy concoction.

It left Bubbles feeling like she could melt away in Femke’s grip, and she was tempted to do just that. But even in her ecstasy, she hadn’t forgotten where she was and who she was fighting and what that person could do to her if she gave an inch. She needed to take this match back.

With that in mind, Bubbles began to sit up, peeling herself of Femke’s chest, only to jerk back suddenly in an attempt to smash her foe’s face with the back of her skull.