Showdown at the Saloon

Mid-threat, it happened. A sudden slam. The sudden impact of Brie's bare breasts against Kylie's. One that came not just with the blonde's soundin' out of pressure, but with a clap sound, as heavy flesh came together.

A collision, which like a trigger, brought Kylie back to the game. Their original game. Their original competition. Breast against breast. Body against body. To settle things with a showdown at the saloon.

Equal though each girl was in they size, with her arms tied, Kylie could only try. Only shift her beautiful bosom, from side to side, all while Brie could pull back, and drive herself forward. An inequity which continued for one slam, and then two. Two and then four. Four and then eight.

Every such collision causin' a loud clap, and then a mutual groan from the warrin' bartendresses. They continuin' to fight, even though their breasts stung, and nipples ached. Even though they had begun to sweat, there in the Texas heat. The AC havin' shut off, when the last customer left.

Battle thought hey did, Brie had the advantage. She bein' unbound, and on top of her rival. Her own breasts layin' on top of and crashin' down on the blonde's wounded breasts with every impact.

Until finally, when Brie felt she had evened the score, and equaled the damage done by Kylie's knot-aided assault, Brie reached. Brie took. And Brie untied, Kylie's hands. Evenin' the playin' field, once again.

"No more cheatin'" Brie offered, as she lifted her heavy thighs off of Kylie's and with 'em, pushed herself into a stand.

And though Kylie could have used the distance then created to rest and recover, if only for a minute, she followed her rival. Keepin' their bodies and breasts pressed together, as she replied in a half-irritated, half-lust-distracted: "Shut up..."

And shut up Brie did, as each of the two, in silence, wrapped their arms around each other's back, and pressed. They pullin' each other close, and holdin' on. Compressin' their chests between 'em, as they stumbled together.

In that stagger, their eyes locked together, not in a angry stare but in a study. Each lookin' to find any hint of weakness or sign of increased pain.

If I shift like this, does it hurt her? They asked themselves.

If I drive my nipple a little deeper, will she howl? Will she whimper? They looked to find out.

But as they asked, they found. Not only that they could hurt, but that they was hurtin', but that the moment for offense had ended, and all they had left was defense. That all they could do is endure.

That's when their eyes broke apart, and their heads came down on each other's shoulders for a soft rest. They focusin' all their energies on shiftin' their breasts, at first left and then right. They together findin' a rhythm in which their mighty pairs drug in opposite directions. All as they held onto each other, sweat pouring down their boot-wearin' bodies.

And as they held, they whimpered and whined quietly for each other, as they looked to be dancin' together. Slowly, softly, and for minutes on end. Until finally, the closeness of it. The intimacy of their painful embrace drew 'em to tilt their heads, and bend their necks up just a smidge.

So that their lips hovered and breaths were shared. Each lettin' those lips and breaths move closer and closer, as their desire to engage their rival in a kiss grew.

They could just do it. Just press their lips together and let their tongues play once again. This time, not as a trick but because they wanted it. Each of 'em. So intensely that they could feel themselves shakin'. Quiverin' in each other's grasp.

But just as they each almost gave in, Brie loosened her grip on Kylie, pulled herself back, and then slammed herself forward, drivin' her breasts into the blonde's. Pull away and slam forward though she did, she never let her lips move away from Kylie's, each pair still lingerin' so very close they could taste it.

In that closeness and at the impact, the bartendresses' lungs compressed. And with as much, they each exhaled and then gasped together. The jitter of it causin' their lips to brush, and then lose contact. A happenin' that occurred once again, as not Brie, but Kylie pulled back and then slammed herself forward. The blonde copyin' the brunette's sudden shift in tactics.

But with Kylie's copied assault, their desperate lips not only met, but caught. Neither of the two warrin' westerners able to resist their urges for another second, despite their worry. Despite their fears.

What did the kiss mean? Why did it call to 'em like a mother callin' her children home for supper? Were they still goin' to figh- Even as they asked those questions to themselves silently, their answer came. As Brie reared back, and came again, causin' their gently pressin' and puckered lips to part, only to reunite as the brunette returned.

In that reunion, soft as it was, their tongues searched and parted - found and then touched. But only for the briefest of moments, before Kylie readied herself and then slammed, just as each of 'em had before. A cycle that that occured again and again, with their lips and tongues meetin', only to be pulled apart again as their battle of batterin' breasts continued.

On every comin' they gasped and every goin' they whimpered. The two Texas girls leanin' into each other just to stand, as each found 'emselves worn down by fatigue, and wet with a quickly buildin' sweat.

In that state of exhaustion and desire - perspiration and desperation, they together slowly rocked. Their back-and-forth slams slowin', and then disappearin' entirely, as they found 'emselves without the strength to do more than hold on to each other and press. Hold on to each other and kiss.

Until even that was too much, for one. As Kylie, without warnin' or grace, collapsed. Not into Brie's arms, but back from their slow, lip-to-lip waltz of attrition, and into the chair, which as luck would have it, found itself behind the fallin' blonde again.

Sturdy though it was, as Kylie landed, the chair rocked back, and then after a precarious lean, fell. With the blonde remainin' and layin' atop it, her breasts achin' and chest heavin' for air.

She was done - finished in every way a southern girl could be. Her body broken. Her mind ravaged by pain and pleasure - anger and desire. Even though Kylie was, Brie wasn't.

No, as instead, the brunette, after takin' a moment to breathe and collect herself, moved her hands to her still-worn but wet panties and with a finger or two pushed down. She, the victorious Brie, as she stepped around the bottom of the upturned chair and Kylie's propped up legs, slidin' her dainty fabric off, ready to take what was her's.

"Well, well, well, Kylie, it looks like my breasts were better after all..." As she spoke, and as the blonde with tear-filled eyes looked up, the brunette took one last step. A wide one that put one of each of her boots on either side of the blonde's head.

"Now, you can keep your job and your precious tips. But what I want..." Before sayin' it or demandin' it in syllables and sentences, Brie came down in a squat. Lettin' her wet and swollen sex linger just an inch above her rival's mouth. "...is for you to give me the thought you put in my mind."

It had never occurred to her, before Kylie said it. Before she spoke of it like it were just part of ropin' - part of steerin'. The winner gets the other's tongue. Their services.

And yet, foreign though the idea was to sweet little Brie, she wanted it. Kylie to eat her. To lick her. For the girl who had caused her pain and promised to run her out of the saloon, to submit in the most intimate of ways.

Kylie, for her own part, had been so close to victory. She had full control of Brie, regardless of the tactics she used to get there, and yet still, there she was. Layin' on that damn chair back, with Brie's kitty floatin' just above. Humiliatin' and frustratin' though it was, she was willin'.

Not because she had softened somewhere on the path, but because the battle was a gamble. A chance to get rid of her competition. And though she had failed, Brie was lettin' her off the hook. She didn't have to quit. Didn't have to share tips. All she had to do was...

"Come on, girl. Get to lickin'!" Brie proded, desperate to have her rival's tongue buried between her lower lips.

And at the prodin', Kylie reached up, pressed her palms to Brie's sexy-thick and position spread ass cheeks, and then leaned her head up. Then as the blonde's tongue split her own lips, and entered brunette's, the latter gasped and shuddered. She, almost immediately fallin' to a single knee, just to bear the glory of the sensation.

"Mmmm, YES!" Brie blurted out, as her eyes closed, and her right hand moved down to grab gently at Kylie's splayed hair.

Gentle though Brie's takin' of hair was, Kylie lashed. Nibbled. And attacked Brie's sex. Not to hurt it, but to lavish it with all the stimulation it had earned. The blonde bettin' that if she could give Brie the orgasm she so clearly wanted, she wouldn't go back on her agreement to let Kylie stay and keep those dollars she earned.

"OOOoooOOohh GooooOoOoDDDd, please... Don't stoopppp." Brie begged, as she fell to a full kneel above Kylie's face. Sign though it was, that Brie was already movin' towards orgasm, Kylie didn't let up. In fact she just increased her tongue's pace, drivin' it in and out of Brie's wet-walled canal.

"Ohh, ohh, ohh, SHIT!!" The brunette began to sputter as waves of pleasure built within her. The blonde beneath her, even as she laid uncomfortably on the back of her upturned chair, movin' faster and faster, even as her agap jaw began to ache, and her workin' tongue to burn.

"I'm so close... I'm so close..." Continued Brie, then in a whisper, she speakin' to Kylie not as a bested enemy, but like a lover - the brunette not havin' any frame of reference for how to treat a woman she just defeated in a battle of bodies and breasts.

Kylie's work was almost finished, and yet wantin' to capitalize on the moment, and at least in her own mind seize back some control, she brought in a hand. One she brought from cheek to crevice then down. Not just down, but in, pushin' it gently into Brie's forbidden darkstar, only a chick's hiccup before the brunette came.

She buckin' like a wild bronco bein' broke, as she screamed. "YYYYYYYYYEEEEEEEEeEEeEEEeESssssSsSS!! FUuuuUUCcCkKkKkk!!"

Words that shot from the brunette's lips like works on the fourth of July, just as she collapsed forward and off of her rival. Each of the two just layin' there, in the aftermath of their destruction for what seemed like an hour, though it was somethin' less.

Less though it was, as they raised they wobbled, and as they stood they shook. Troubles that persisted as they made their way 'round the saloon in silence, gatherin' up their clothes and gettin' themselves dressed once again.

In fact, for a moment, Kylie thought, that even after all they had just put each other through, that it would end without word. That they each would leave without speakin', stange as it would be.

With that expectation, and the shock that would come of it, Kylie moved to the door of the saloon to leave. A trip that would take her by Brie, who was still pullin' her shirt on over her head.

But, just as the blonde passed however, the brunette reached out, grabbed Kylie's wrists, and then shoved against the wooden wall next to the exit. Brie then pushed her body into her rival's, her eyes fixed in a heated glare, and spoke. "You ain't leavin' here till you tell me, bitch..."

"Uh, tell you what...?" Kylie asked, her eyes speakin' loudly of her confusion.

"Whose breasts are better, K? Mine or yours?" With every word spoken, Brie seemed to be becomin' a different person. Harder. Crueler. Meaner. So much so though that Kylie found herself speechless, only able to respond with a bewildered exhale.

"Say it!" The victorious brunette demanded, as she leaned in hard, pressin' her breasts into the blonde's hard.

"Owe, bitch! You won! Just let me go!" Kylie cried out, not wantin' to have to say the words, especially with how exceptional her cunnilingus was.

Despite the blonde's complainin' Brie pulled back, without lettin' go of her defeated rival's wrists, and then slammed her breasts forward into those of the same.

"SAY IT!!" The brunette shouted, as she pressed her forehead against Kylie's, her eyes borin' holes in the blonde's soul.

"Ok, ok, fine! Your breasts are better than mine! Owe! Stop i-" The very moment the words were said, Brie leaned in and pressed her lips against the blonde's. Kissin' her roughly. Harshly. As if she owned her.

At first, the blonde fought to escape the kiss and the brunette's lingerin' press. She tryin' to push Brie off of her, leavin' them once again matching strength-for-strength, though in their parity, Kylie just couldn't break free. And as her efforts failed, and as Brie kept her pinned, Kylie gave in. Even kissin' Brie back, though with less fire, if not less passion.

Then suddenly, it all ended. As the brunette pulled back, both from press and kiss. She lettin' her angry scowl and forceful glare soften back into an unassumin' smile. One that she gave just before offerin', "thanks, sugah. See you tomorrow night."

Words she spoke before winkin' and leavin' the half-terrified blonde flattened against the wall, as the victor of the showdown in the saloon pressed past her and then out into the heat of the Texas night.

As she left, Kylie found herself alone with her fear about what their next encounter might entail, and a most unwelcome realization.

"Shit!" She exclaimed. The bar still had to be cleaned...

The End.