The Country Girl (Part 2 Recognition)
By the time Kellie got to the island I had been waiting a while and trying to think of some advantage I had over her. But I could think of absolutely nothing.
Both of us were perfect 36DD-24-36 lesbian vixens of 18 years experience.
Neither of us ever backed down and we both were constantly on the prowl for any female who was brave enough to return our gaze without looking away. Disappointingly with most older women and girls it just didn’t happen very often and we made sure it never happened twice.
We were just too badass.
Oh yes, then Kellie came. We stared daggers at each other at every opportunity.
I guess we must be too much alike. Our firm young breasts. Same size. Our waist, slender, just the same. The curve of our hips following the same full arch. Our young legs thick, round, womanly.
It was very frustrating but also more exciting than my previous encounters. And I’d had experience all my life. I guess there was more to lose or more to gain.
And then I saw her. Red mane glowing in the sun. Her feline form, hips swaying seductively side to side, as she came towards me. I stood up to meet her with hands on my own round hips. She never blinked and pushed her big girls into mine. Almost from somewhere else I heard her challenge.
“How do you want to settle this Vicky?” Vehemently
Coming back to myself I suddenly knew.
“Everything” I said. “I want to do everything!”
Giving me a doubtful look and turning her back on me, she pulled her short green tank top over her head. I hadn’t realized what soft broad shoulders she had before now. Reaching behind she arched her back and unhooked her red lace bra.
The only way to describe her is having a perfect hourglass figure. Seldom seen in one so young. I could feel myself becoming very aroused. My nipples pushed against my bra. My labia began to swell.
I could see her large round breasts even with her back to me. When she turned to face me I could see she had the large full tits of a sex fighter. Wide apart with nipples pointing outward instead of straight ahead. I’d never seen another woman with breasts like mine before and was almost in shock. Girls weren’t randomly born like this, they were bred to it.
Instinctively I pulled off my pink top. The cleavage of my 36DD’s showing, almost tumbling eagerly out of my lace pink bra to show her up.
If my rival was impressed she didn’t show it.
She started walking back towards me staring. She had been in fights with big girls before. I glared jealous hate as she bounced her tits as she walked. I had a surprise for her to. I undid my heavy pink bra in front to let her gaze at my young full breasts.
Despite her cocky attitude she gave a little gasp. It was an uncontrollable response to seeing my battle tits so much like her own. Great full white breasts, pink puffy nipples hardening into perfect cones. She just kept starring.
Finally she said in her husky teen voice “Before we start may I just touch them?”
That thought seemed strangely appealing. I answered “Both touch each other at the same time.”
Our hands moved cautiously and deliberately in what seemed like an eternity. Then we touched. And then it happened.
All the old feuds, the old hates between The Irish and The Scott’s consumed us. Centuries of women struggling and sex fighting for her tribe in ancient castles long ago poured into us. And then I knew who I was. And who she was.
I was a raven haired Scottish Warrior Princess. She was an Irish Warrior young and strong, with fire in her eyes and hair. My eyes shot flame as I recognized her. Her upturned nipples brushed against mine deliberately and she said:
“You can’t win again slutty Pic!”
Unconsciously we kicked off our shoes. Both eyeing each other as we peeled and wiggled out of our cut off jeans and panties. Then I saw that hated flame between her hips and she starred at her dark nemesis that was mine. Her mistress.
We started slowly circling “the other” clockwise, then counter clockwise searching for some hurt or weakness.
We found none.
Both began to pant seeing our rivals sex after so long. Both of us lusting for and jealously hating the other for her perfect young form. Beautiful rivals circling and seeking to dominate the other woman. Sexually, intently, with malice.
Suddenly we stopped, nether able to find an advantage. It was pointless to continue that way.
It had to start like this.
I placed my hands behind my head interlocking my fingers and pushed out my full ripe breasts to challenge her. I starred at her with contempt and simply said:
“Would you like to try again you Red Irish Whore?”
My opponent complied hungrily. Furiously lacing her fingers against her red hair intent on having revenge and satisfaction. She jutted her pink nipples forward.
Two buxom timeless lesbian beauties.
Once again our tits would fight for dominance!
