Can Do Ep. 12

The envelope held two large stacks of twenty euro notes and two folded sheets of paper. The stacks were two inches thick, which meant it was a lot of money. The first sheet of paper contained a single line.

This is part of your share. The rest is in your account. Like I said, we did real well.

The second sheet of paper was more formal. It stated that Melanie Gray--business, address, blah, blah--was no longer the manager of Trinity Stone--address, blah, blah--as of the day before and she no longer had any business relationship with said Trinity Stone. So there.

Trinity skipped the morning coffee and went straight to the scotch as she sipped and counted. Five hundred bills per stack, all with random serial numbers and the feel of some wear, which made her happier. After a quick Google search: five hundred bills in a stack was €10,000 or nearly $12,000. Two stacks. Oh, fuck. Everything except the note about her share went into the safe. That paper and the wadded note went into her suitcase, the one Melanie brought. Damn, I can't get rid of her, even now.

The morning passed in a daze. She should call Zenova. No, that only led to a war of seriously sharp words with losers all around. The liquor--two fingers, no more--gave her a false calm. Sometime around noon, she sat on the floor of the main room, amber necklace draped around her, the fossilized resin warm against her skin. The room faded.

She was naked, no surprise there, at the far end of the long hall representing her life choices. Hers and Zenova's. The large dial at the other end showed the two pointers wandering about the divide between Yes and No. Reds and grays dominated the dial, which wasn't good. Only two days before in Innsbruck the dial had been dominated by blue with splashes of green. She should have expected it, yet seeing the result of the first test splattered across the dial made her feel even worse. She wandered along the hall, seeing all doors except the last two shut--right and left, herself and Zenova. They each had two choices left: the open doors or the door under the dial, which she knew was still locked to them. She wanted to sit before the dial, get control of her aura, try to make the best of what she had. Except she wasn't alone.

Zenova sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the dial, naked, eyes closed, cock partially erect, hands on her knees. As the blonde drew near, the brunette turned her head.

"What are you doing here? I want to be alone."

"This is my dream, bitch. Can't I have some time to myself without you trying to get a piece of me? Wasn't last night enough for you?"

It was exactly the wrong thing to say, Trinity knew, but she was angry. Zenova walked out on her after the test match, not even a stiff 'goodbye.' Now the arrogant cunt was sitting in her spot. Her spot, damn it.

This is your meditation. If Zenova's here, it's because you are thinking of her. The reasonable inner voice only infuriated her more. Fuck off, she fumed at herself.

Zenova stood, pressing nose, nipples, and fully erect cock against Trinity. "I was supposed to win that match."

"You almost did, Couldn't finish it, huh?" Again, the wrong thing to say.

The hand came from nowhere, the shock more hurtful than the open palm on her cheek. Hands went to hair--Zenova's wasn't in cornrows, it should have told Trinity something--as they staggered about the hall. A knee to the ribs stunned the blonde. Zenova swung her by the arm, slamming her into a closed door. A knee to the crotch stopped the brunette in her tracks. Trinity followed with a hip toss that dropped her lover on her back hard onto the floor. After that, it got ugly.

They didn't use fists or feet, but elbows and knees found open spots leaving them bruised and breathless after a few minutes. Zenova got the first penetration, ejaculating almost immediately after getting her cock deep into Trinity's pussy. The blonde twisted her way on top, nearly coming before shoving her cock into the brunette's tight pussy. Her orgasm was epic, but nothing compared to what came afterward.

The women traded top position several times, each one coming in the other until their pussies squelched as they fucked. Vaginal penetration was replaced by forced deep throats, as they slammed cocks down open throats. Trinity gagged, desperate for breath as Zenova pushed a rock-hard erection past her tonsils for the fourth or fifth time--the blonde had long since lost count. She took it in, ignoring her lungs' pleas for air, unwilling to give in, just as Zenova was unwilling to give her any quarter. A few minutes later, Trinity returned the favor, feeling the thrill of hearing her lover choke on stiff flesh and warm cum.

The fight seemed to last an eternity. Each time one of them tried to crawl away, get her breath, stretch knotted muscles, she was pulled back by her opponent. Neither gave any thought to mercy or fair play or any part of their past. Their balls were full, cocks were hard, always ready for another cum shot in whatever hole presented itself. Mouths, asses, pussies, all became places to dump cum--again and again. Sobs and groans were ignored as they fought with a ferocity beyond anything Trinity had ever experienced. She hated it; she loved it; she need it to stop; she never wanted it to end.

Trinity was on top, cock stuffed to the pubic hair in Zenova's mouth. The brunette had one hand deep into the blonde's breast, fingers tightening. The other hand was two fingers into her cunt, thumb in her ass. The blonde felt another massive orgasm building, knowing that as soon as she came, Zenova would push her off get on top and fuck her hard in retribution. Trinity understood at that moment, neither of them was winning: they were both losing and would continue losing until there was nothing left of them but the bitterness and anger and fury and ...

She came, hearing and feeling the frantic gagging that should have made the brunette beg for mercy. Instead, when she pulled her cum- and saliva-coated erection from the bruised mouth, Zenova hit her with a sharp elbow to the ribs.

"I hate you," Zenova spat.

"I hate you more," Trinity spat back.

Zenova jumped on her.

Trinity awoke with a start: angry, ashamed, sad, frightened. Her cock was semi-erect, a large puddle of cum oozed around her ass and crossed legs. She was unmarked, only remotely sore, but entirely off center. The dream had been so real, she'd wanted it to continue even as she was revolted by it. Was this what she really thought of Zenova, were she and the brunette little more than things to be used by the other, each for their own purpose? She needed air.

Washed, dressed, floor cleaned, money in the safe, Trinity walked aimlessly for an hour, seeing nothing, hearing nothing, moving around other people by instinct. She avoided the Grand Hotel, walking around the football pitch and the lake shore until the cold seeped past her coat and stocking cap. Cheeks red, hands beginning to numb from the cold, she had a late lunch in the hotel and made it safely to her room before she broke down and cried for what seemed like hours. She stripped and crawled into the made-up bed. She slept, blissfully without dreaming,

At nineteen hours, Trinity walked into the foyer of the Presidential Suite. Guests milled about, chatting, drinking. She spoke with several before noticing Bunny in a corner with an unhappy Zenova. He motioned her over. Trinity excused herself, going reluctantly to join the pair.

Bunny made small talk, avoiding any mention of the second test. He was out of sorts, his jovial manner obviously laid over something more deeply worrying. He tried to get the women to chat; they started, but each conversation evaporated into uncomfortable silence. Zenova excused herself. Trinity moved to leave as well. The man laid a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"You should be enjoying this."

"You'd think so."

"I'd say I understand, but I really don't. Where is Ms. Gray?"

"Gone back to the States. Baby issues."

"Ah." Bunny tried to smile and failed. "Just as well. She made quite a sum last night with inventive wagers. Some people noticed."

"She quit," Trinity said automatically. "Sometime before the first test, from the letter she left me. Is betting on yourself, I mean her betting on or against me, illegal or something."

"Bad form," Bunny answered. "But, as she quit representing you before the match, it seems moot." This time he did smile, which made Trinity feel oddly comforted. She gave him a peck on the cheek and went upstairs.

"Are there any questions?" The referee was a man this time, shorter than Trinity, compact. The white shirt and bow tie looked tight and uncomfortable. By looks and accent, he seemed vaguely Italian.

Both women shook their heads, fighter's stares firmly in place. Zenova took Trinity's cock, shaking it gently; the blonde did the same.

"I had a dream today," the brunette said in a near whisper. "It was arousing and disgusting at the same time."

"I think I had the same dream. Did you mean what you said? I didn't."

"No, I would never say anything so cruel, no matter how mad I am with you. I will win tonight."

"I may have something to say about that. Good luck."

Trinity removed her robe at her corner, staring at the chair. She nearly didn't hear the referee tell them to start. She stumbled to the center of the mat, getting trapped by the brunette's strong arms and tossed to the floor. Zenova penetrated her immediately, a complete change from the previous night. Though Trinity had no idea how points were scored, she knew the brunette wasn't taking any chances this time, seizing the initiative from the start. That suited Trinity, she wanted to see whether her opponent was going to get overconfident.

The sex was enjoyable. Trinity flexed her Kegel muscles, wondering why Zenova hadn't decided to milk the blonde's cock. The reason became clear when the brunette began licking Trinity's neck, nibbling at an earlobe, massaging an ass cheek with a firm hand. The blonde lost her concentration for a moment, shuddering through a vaginal orgasm that left her disoriented long enough for Zenova to put her in an abdominal stretch, cock still buried in a spasming cunt, using the reach around position to stroke the pale cock.

Fuck, I'm gonna be flaccid and empty way before this is over. Gotta do something. Panic crept through her.

She flexed her hips, moving them in counterpoint to Zenova's thrusts. Her head was pulled back even with her opponent's; she sucked in an earlobe, getting a gasp from Zenova and an approving murmur from the guests.

The contest stalemated for several minutes, neither woman gaining an advantage. Zenova tried to shift positions, get Trinity in a camel clutch, but missed her grip and found herself in a scissors trib, much like the first test, with Trinity fucking her slowly, lots of hip action for the guests, and a firm hand on the olive-skinned cock oozing cum as it was stroked.

Positions changed rapidly after that, Trinity came once, pussy only. Zenova came twice, once in her pussy and once in a muted climax that spread cum across the blonde's breast, but left her cock hard. The enhancement still held both in its augmented thrall. The guests enjoyed the action, watching each woman fuck the other with increasing intensity, building toward a serious climax from at least one of them. During one change, Trinity's elbow smacked Zenova's face, the impact harder than expected or planned. Less than a minute later, a dusky knee clocked Trinity between nose and mouth. Like the slap during meditation, it was more the shock than the pain that made the blonde want to do something epic. She restrained herself with great effort.

Trinity, on top in cowgirl position, impaled on Zenova's cock, slipped as the brunette bucked unexpectedly. She slid forward, losing her grip on the dusky cock, gettin her own erection engulfed by an eager mouth. She fell away, back laid against Zenova's thigh trying to get her legs around her opponent's neck for some control. The brunette's long cock waved near her face, impossible to reach due to the strong grip on her lower body. Her fingers found the sopping cunt; she put two, then three in to the last knuckle, rubbing whatever she could reach. It worked partially.

Zenova grunted, aroused, unable to keep the fingers away, yet her mouth continued it's deep throat, making Trinity's vision go gray at the edges. The guests were openly cheering again, excited by the odd positions and the great views of a blow job and a near fisting.

"Put a finger in her ass," a loud male voice said, before being silenced by those around him.

Trinity found the spot--the spot--the place in Zenova's pussy behind the cock. She rubbed it, using her little finger on the taint. The brunette's twitched, her mouth relaxed briefly as she came, spewing an arc of cum on the blonde's face. Trinity's gloating was short-lived. Zenova's mouth clamped down again, the tongue finding the right part of her cock, combined with a perfect throat massage. Trinity climaxed, her whole body shaking, feeling her balls empty. Zenova released the spasming cock that sprayed two final jets of cum into the air and onto the brunette's face.

Both women sagged, struggling to regain enough control to get an advantage. The gong sounded as Trinity put her lips around Zenova's cock, who had shoved a middle finger deep in the blonde's ass. A fist popped her in the abs. She responded with a fist to the brunette's pussy. The referee, completely absent for the entire test, pried them apart. "La partita è finita, signorine. Stop, please."

Yup, Italian, Trinity mused as she got to her knees. She glared at Zenova who glared back. Their hands closed to fists. If she twitches ... Trinity told herself, partly wanting the fight. The referee stood between them, Eric to one side. The hands relaxed.

The blonde waited for her head to clear, not wanting to crawl to her chair. She didn't feel good about the match; she'd done poorly, she told herself. The only satisfaction was Zenova wasn't on her feet, either. The side of her face hurt, but she saw clearly from the eye above the spot where the brunette had smacked her.

The short walk to her chair was done carefully, trying not to show how completely exhausted she was. Zenova was already seated, a silly grin on her face, the bitch. She obviously thought she'd done well. Probably right, Trinity agreed silently. I started too slow and didn't finish strong enough. Fuck. Part of her chided that she needed to stop being crude, even when talking to herself. She was too tired to tell it to fuck off. Cum leaked from her aching pussy and dripped down her sweaty face. Opposite her, Zenova looked no better, despite her confidence.

Someone handed her an unopened bottle of chilled San Pellegrino. The bubbles felt good in her throat as she sipped the sparkling water. Someone else laid the robe around her shoulders. She flashed a thank you smile.

Eric walked elegantly to the center of the mat, perfectly dressed and coifed. If he was a woman, I'd fuck him in a heartbeat, Trinity thought with in internal smirk. Might do it anyway, after this is all over, just to see if he keeps that superior sneer when he comes.

"Once again, a well fought match. The reason these women are present at the championship should be clear to all who may have had other opinions. The points are: Zenova de Crie, eleven points; Trinity Stone: ten points. Mademoiselle de Crie with the edge in a an intense contest."

"Zenova's broad grin faded almost immediately after the announcement as Eric continued. "The final score is: Zenova de Crie, twenty-three points." He paused for effect. "Trinity Stone, twenty-four points. Ms. Stone has the advantage for the final match tomorrow. Remember, please, the final starts at 21 hours. Drinks and light food are served beginning an hour prior."

He turned to survey the guests, stopping suddenly. Bunny glared at the man, who paled and walked swiftly in the opposite direction. What's going on? They're supposed to having a good time. It's only Zenova and me that are supposed to be miserable.

Trinity tied the robe around her, liking the feel of the silk on her weary skin. She turned to find Zenova before her. The brunette looked like Trinity felt.

"The first two tests mean nothing, Trinity," she said. "Only the last makes a difference. Your advantage will be short-lived. I have seen the best you have, and it is not enough. Tomorrow, I will be the champion." The eyes were hard, intense. Trinity saw nothing behind them but implacable determination. Her own resolve stiffened.

"Big talk from someone who's completely gassed after fifteen minutes--two days in a row." Trinity felt grim satisfaction to know that the point hit home. Zenova's lips compressed, but her eyes showed worry. "I'm betting the fight doesn't go past the second round, and the only thing you'll be celebrating is the chance to sit down and catch your breath."

"Salope."

"Cunt."

Words formed on Zenova's lips, ugly words Trinity had heard earlier in the day. She expected them, she expected it to hurt, to know it was over, all the promises, the plans, swearing that nothing would change how they felt about each other. All of it flashed to cold cinders as the brunette opened her mouth.

"I ..." was as far as Zenova got before a large tear trickled down her face. She nearly ran from the room.

Trinity's only satisfaction was knowing her former lover was as miserable as she.