Can Do Ep. 04

Later, they sat in the garden with a bottle of wine and two glasses, watching the fireflies wink across the lawn. Trinity felt relaxed; she'd more than held her own during the day. Her pussy tingled with expectation of later sex; she'd been thinking of a way for them to fuck each other at the same time: a mutual penetration. Zenova clearly didn't feel the same way. The brunette gulped her wine, drinking most of the bottle. She sulked, responding to Trinity's chatter with grunts and shrugs. Bottle done, they sat in a deepening silence, with Trinity beginning to sense sex wouldn't be all that much fun later on.

When it was completely dark, they went inside, cleaned the kitchen, and went upstairs single file. Zenova took a shower, then climbed into bed, unmoving. Trinity swallowed an ugly comment, instead taking her growing anger into the shower where the water washed some of it away. When she walked into the bedroom wrapped in a towel, Zenova said nothing. She climbed into bed. The brunette turned her face to the wall. Trinity lay on her back, cock deflating. She needed to sleep anyway. That's what she told herself. As she closed her eyes, she thought, fucking cunt.

------

Saturday was worse. They ate breakfast from opposite sides of the table. Amélie-Francois took the weekends off, so they were alone in the house. Trinity kept expecting Zenova to ask her to leave. It wasn't until they opened the pavilion again the blonde realized the brunette was desperate for a definitive victory. Sending Trinity away would leave things uncertain. Both women needed to prove something as the morning cool turned sultry.

There were no warm-up exercises, no session at the muk yan jong, no light banter or circling. The women stripped, locked up, and fell to the mat, a twisted knot of arms and legs that spoke more of anger than sex or skill. The more they wrestled, the harder they fucked, no longer using any strategy except to get the other to come first. Bragging rights were at stake, especially if it was the last time they met.

Trinity found herself on her side, face in Zenova's crotch. The olive cock slid across her lips; she sucked it into her mouth, working the head and shaft with teeth and tongue. Her erection was captured by an equally talented mouth. She could have separated, spared her cock from sensual abuse, but she perversely wanted the brunette to suck it. She wasn't worried she'd ejaculate before Zenova--she was definitely not going to, if only to spit in her opponent's eye. She stuck her thumb in Zenova's cunt and her middle finger in her ass, massaging and pinching the taint that lay between them. A muffled groan from between her legs told her she'd scored. A thumb and two fingers--two, the bitch--slithered into her pussy and ass, causing her to moan around the rigid flesh in her mouth. It was going to be a long day.

Maintaining a grip was difficult. Their bodies were dappled with sweat, cunts and cocks slick with mutual arousal. Trinity worried she'd lose any advantage if her fingers or mouth relaxed as they rolled across the mat in awkward thumps. They seemed have the same idea at the same time. Left knees locked, followed quickly by right knees. It was harder to roll, but neither woman was going to get away from the other. Trinity and Zenova settled in to make each other come, no matter how long it took.

Time slowed, became meaningless. All Trinity wanted in the eternal present was to feel hot cum fill her mouth, a dusky pussy spasm around her thumb. She was denied, as she denied Zenova. Small spurts of salty, slightly bitter liquid flowed around her teeth. The brunette's pussy and ass clenched, not in orgasm but in practiced measure.

The past week had taught the blonde as well. She let herself climax in small frissons of pleasure that never reached full release, working her Kegel muscles in counterpoint to the thumb and fingers in her cunt and ass. I could do this all day, she bragged to herself.

A jarring stop to their erratic roll across the mat brought her back to reality. They'd bumped against a corner post. Legs became snarled in the ropes as they wriggled futilely to get loose without breaking the clinch. Eventually, unable to move, they separated, rolling to knees protesting the strain of the long lock-up.

The sun was much higher in the sky than Trinity remembered. How long had they been ravaging each other? The ache in her jaw told her it was a lot longer than she thought. Less than an arm's length across from her, Zenova hunched forward, hands on her knees, working her mouth like she was trying to ease a cramp.

"I didn't come," the brunette said around a reluctant tongue.

"Me, either," the blonde retorted, grateful she hadn't stumbled too badly over the short phrase. "I thought you were supposed to be the best." Trinity almost regretted her words.

"I am the best, stupid American cunt," Zenova spit back. "It is only my teaching that allows you to remain upright and hard. Without me, you would be still at your empty house, playing with a wooden dummy, wondering if you are any good. I have not taught you everything yet. That is why I am better than you."

A month before, a week before, the insult would have hurt. This day, watching Zenova's breasts heave as she struggled for breath, seeing her cock leaking cum into a growing puddle between her legs, Trinity sensed the words were hollow, a bravado voiced but not felt. Zenova was worried. Good.

Trinity's slapped her opponent's cock hard enough to make it sting. It was opponent now, not partner. Cum splattered her hand. She licked it with exaggerated slowness. Zenova's eyes crossed briefly. Her furrowed brow told that she was fighting to hold back an ejaculation. Trinity watched, amused, a cat cleaning her paw.

A quick jolt to her cock roused her. Zenova stared at her expectantly, licking her own hand. She let the sharp sensation seep into her, controlling the orgasm that nearly escaped. Cum drooled from her dick. The puddles between their legs merged. They began a forehand, backhand rhythm, trading blows; they leaned forward, hand to a shoulder for support as they kept themselves on the verge of climax for long minutes.

It occurred to Trinity in the literal haze of cum forming around her, that this was the kind of sexfight she'd always wanted, but was never able to get. Her opponents, especially the recent ones, all had come to the fight with something to prove. She'd become moderately famous in the American part of the Hexagon Consortium, winning her last eight matches convincingly. None had gone beyond twenty minutes, most lasted less than ten. The other fighters had gone for a quick win, tired themselves out, and been dominated. The fights had been routine. This was different, this was arousing.

Now, completely unaware of the time, she was finding not only the perfect opponent, but the perfect way to fight, staying so close to orgasm she tasted it, being strong enough to make the exquisite torture last. I want to do this forever.

Zenova had other ideas. She grew tired of the cock play, lunging forward to tackle the blonde to the mat. They tumbled together, scrambling like olympic wrestlers for top position. Zenova succeeded because Trinity became engrossed in not coming from the friction of cock on cock, pussy on pussy. There were things she still needed to learn, she scolded herself. Like concentrating on not losing the advantage.

Instead of plunging her dick into a waiting pussy, the brunette impaled herself on Trinity's cock, which looked to be a good move. Zenova rocked her hips, twisting as she clenched her interior muscles. The sensation made Trinity groan. She nearly came before calming herself with thoughts of working the muk yan jong. She was nearly undone when those thoughts turned to Zenova working the wooden dummy while she fucked the brunette from behind.

Trinity grabbed Zenova's nipples in desperation, twisting the hard nubs between forefingers and thumbs. The brunette stifled a moan that mixed with the blonde's grunts and gasps. She leaned forward, pressing against Trinity's hands, returning the nipple abuse with equal intensity. Hips bucked, fingers dug into breasts, sweat beaded on skin. Neither woman stopped, despite the growing discomfort.

The advantage turned when Zenova shifted her hips. Trinity was on top instantly, the ache in her nipples fading with the satisfaction of getting the brunette's cock inside her. It was the blonde's turn to do the massaging, She's going to come, Trinity kept thinking as she held herself on the edge of climax. But not yet, not too soon. I want her to beg me to stop. I want to hear her beg.

Both women showed signs of strain as the fight wore on. Neither could control the other for long. Positions changed often, cocks or cunts spasmed without final release. The previous week's exercise had given them a stamina that would have impressed the most jaded porn star. Cocks slid into pussies and mouths. Fingers wrapped around throats or probed roughly into mouthes and asses. Headlocks, grapevines, octopuses, camel clutches, Boston crabs, anything to allow one woman to bend the other into a position where she was forced to submit or come. Neither gave in.

------

The late afternoon glow highlighted two bodies tangled in the ropes, unable to get free. Trinity had no idea how it happened. She didn't remember much of the past hours, only that she hadn't come and hadn't been able to make Zenova come. They were stalemated, unable to do more that glare at each other.

"Just come, bitch," Zenova sputtered. "Admit I am better. I have had you on the brink of orgasm all day."

"But I didn't come, did I, cunt?" Trinity spit back. "All your supposed skill, all the things you said you didn't yet show me, none of it worked, did it? I'm still hard, I've got two fingers in your cunt, and you're the one who's going to blow."

Zenova wrenched an arm free. Trinity grimaced watching the shoulder nearly dislocate. It broke the knot, tumbling them to the mat in an exhausted heap. They lay together, inhaling lungsful of air, mouths gaping like beached fish. After several minutes they clambered to their feet, using each other for support.

Trinity pushed Zenova onto the ropes. The blonde dropped to her knees, taking the olive cock in her mouth. She sucked at the glistening head, forcing the tip of her tongue into the gaping slit. A finger went into the brunette's pussy, while another slid along the sweaty taint. This should do it. Trinity tried not to gloat.

Hands gripped her ears, holding her head fast. The cock in her mouth shoved farther in, then out, repeating like a jackhammer. She couldn't breathe, the cock filled her throat. Trinity gagged, a thick mixture of cum and saliva drooling down her chin. The abuse stopped abruptly. The blonde saw Zenova backing away, holding her cock, face screwed up as she forced herself not to climax.

The blonde got to her feet, wiping spit and cum away. She shoved her opponent hard into the turnbuckles. Zenova slammed against the padded metal, groaning, before bouncing forward.

Trinity saw the fist coming. She could have ducked, could have stepped back to let Zenova miss, lose her balance. Yet, she waited for it, wanting it, knowing it would change things. The punch was awkward, sliding across the jaw instead of striking directly. It didn't matter, it was the act that mattered. Trinity responded with a solid left to the liver. Her pleasure was short-lived; the brunette's left flattened her breast, and the recoiled right burrowed into her gut.

Fists flew as the women staggered around the ring. As many blows missed as hit, they were both tired, legs rubbery. Bruises formed, blood seeped from noses and mouths before the punches ended as abruptly as they started. Trinity wiped her nose, licking the blood away. Zenova let it flow from her mouth, part of her lip beginning to swell. Infinite time passed as they wound down from the bloody fist fight. Fuck this, the blonde decided. She wants me to come. I'll give it to her in spades.

With a guttural yell, Trinity slammed against Zenova, driving the dusky woman into the turnbuckles again. Her pale cock jammed into the darker pussy. The blonde bucked her hips with as much force as she had left. She was going to have an epic orgasm, leaving Zenova unconscious in the process.

She'd held herself back too long, walked along the edge of climax for most of the day. As hard as Trinity slam-fucked Zenova, as hard as the brunette thrust back, holding the pale cock in tight muscles, the blonde didn't come. She howled her frustration as Zenova bit her neck and raked short nails along her back.

Trinity relaxed for a moment to catch her breath, thinking of another way to come. She found herself on her back, Zenova's cock deep inside her, pumping hard and fast. The friction in her pussy was welcome, as was the pressure of the brunette's body on her cock and nipples. She hooked he legs into Zenova's ass, meeting thrust for thrust, impact for impact. Her interior muscles rippled on the invading cock, keeping it trapped. Time began to slip away again.

She felt the sun move around them as they slam-fucked each other, neither staying on top or inside for long. What mattered was the longing for the eruption of cum in a cunt, in a mouth, on breasts, it didn't matter where, as long as it happened. Trinity and Zenova began slow war of attrition that, for a while, looked like neither wanted to win.

------

The sun touched the trees as Zenova held Trinity face down on the mat, legs in the air, back arched. The brunette straddled her shoulders, holding a pale left leg over her own right shoulder, clenching the foot in the crook of her left elbow. It wasn't the hold that worried the blonde, there wasn't much pain, merely the strain of a complicated yoga position. It was her cock waving in the air, defenseless. Zenova stroked it mercilessly, keeping it well lubricated with the cum that oozed from the slit and her own spit.

"You want to come. Do it for me. Submit."

"Fuck you," Trinity mumbled through the canvas.

"Later, after you are drained, I will satisfy myself. Now, ugly American bitch, come."

"After you, Belgian frog."

"We are not frogs, that is..." Zenova lost her focus and found herself on her face, Trinity's cock sliding into her cunt from behind.

"Yeah, it's the French. I know. Still, it worked, right? Now it's your turn to come."

------

"Lâcher de moi, putain." Zenova hung upside down, face against Trinity's crotch, while the blonde held her tightly, wetly licking the engorged lips of the brunette's pussy.

"After you pop, I'll be happy to dump your slutty ass on the mat and spray your face with my cum." Trinity said with a conviction she didn't feel. She was standing only because she refused to fall over. Her knees were locked to keep her upright. If Zenova didn't orgasm soon, she'd have to drop the cunt. Her arms were on fire. All that kept her going was the fierce urge to win. Maybe this was it.

They'd been fucking for so long, Trinity was having trouble remembering if she or Zenova was supposed to come first. She remembered them trying for both at different times. I don't care which of us comes. I want the bitch to be crying on the mat, even if I'm sprawled on top of her. It means I win.

She pressed her lips and tongue further into the slick pussy, tasting her own essence. Zenova sucked her cock, biting the head with her teeth. The blonde clamped the swollen vaginal folds in her teeth, bumping her hips forward to shove her cock as far down the brunette's throat as she could. Retching sounds wafted up from between her thighs. You want to come, remember? a voice inside her said. That was the point of all this. Let her suck you off. Stop making her gag.

Trinity was in mid-reply to herself when her arms gave out. Zenova crumpled to the mat, heels over head, swearing non-stop in French. The blonde dropped to her knees, furious that she'd let go. The brunette kicked her in the head. She punched back, hitting first the swollen pussy, then the liver as Zenova collapsed, one hand to her crotch. A sweaty hand grabbed Trinity's throbbing erection, jerking it roughly. She retaliated in kind and they ended as they began, tangled on the mat, each with a fistful of cock.

The orgasm rose like a closed pot boiling over, sloppy, unstoppable, angry. As she came, alternately ecstatic and humiliated--she still couldn't remember if she wanted Zenova to come first--she felt warm liquid coat her hand, then splatter on her face. She was coming hard, gouts of silky, herbal-scented cum erupting from her cock. But the taste on her lips was Zenova. They were coming at the same time. Fuck, she thought as her nestled balls emptied like water through a fire hose. A goddamned tie. She passed out.

------

It was near dark. The last of twilight was fading. Trinity blinked. Stars and lightning bugs winked around her. Or was that the aftereffect of her climax? Her skin was sticky with dried sweat and cum. She was on her back, legs apart, cock flaccid. Close to her, Zenova lay against the ropes, head lolled to one side, her own cock shriveled within an oval of drying cum. The blonde tried to push up on her elbows. She failed, falling back hard enough to bang her head. Zenova opened one eye.

"Are you done?" The brunette slurred her words. "I pray you are. I cannot move."

Trinity stretched out her hand--even that took enormous effort. She raised the dusky cock head in her fingers. There was no reaction. Her own cock didn't even twitch.

"When I can get up, in an hour or so, I'll fuck you as much as you want. Unless you want to fuck me. I don't care anymore."

Zenova leaned forward. She fell sideways across Trinity. Their noses and lips touched.

"I think we tried too hard," the brunette said, her words still slurred. "Why did we fight?"

"I don't know. You were eager to win, I guess. I was even more eager to show you I'm not going to be easy to beat when the tournament starts." Trinity lips brushed Zenova's as she spoke. "We got carried away. Let's not do that again."

"Agreed." Zenova pushed her tongue against Trinity's teeth.

The blonde opened her mouth to suck it in. "You taste good," she murmured.

"As do you. Shall we go to the bed?"

"Yeah, but you need to help me stand."

They both needed the other's help. Neither bothered to dress. Closing the pavilion took much longer than planned. It was full dark when they stumbled into the kitchen, hand in hand. Neither wanted food. Climbing the stairs was an effort that nearly defeated them. They crawled the last few treads, only standing when they reached the bedroom doorframe.

A tepid shower eased some of the aches as well as washing off the day's sweat and cum, from both cock and pussy. Dried, nude, exhausted, they fell into the bed, facing each other.

"You called me an ugly American," Trinity said around Zenova's tongue.

Later, Zenova answered, "Yes. I am sorry. You called me a frog. That was unkind." She was licking the blonde's ear at the time.

"I know. I'm sorry, too. Frogs are French."

"Exactly. We are Walloons."

"Is that supposed to be better?"

"Infinitely."

"Fuck me?" Trinity asked tentatively as their cocks finally stiffened.

"Yes, slowly, and only if you fuck me back."

"Deal. You know, we really need to find a way to fuck each other at the same time. If we..." The rest of Trinity's words were lost in a soft yowl of pleasure.