[bcw8]

Robyn


Quinn

A shoulder injury ended Jack’s tennis career before he was thirty.  But club pros still make good money, and Jack, as it turned out, was an excellent teacher.  He always had a waiting list for lessons.  The country club mommies wanted their kids to learn to play, and once they met Jack, they usually signed up for court time with him as well.  He was a lean, beautiful man.

Robyn was not naturally jealous.  And when they’d come to work at the club - Jack as tennie pro, Robyn in membership sales - it never occurred to her that he would ever stray.  At 28, she was as beautiful as he was; lustrous dark hair, gray-green eyes, athletically lithe.  Sure, he had clients that flirted with him, some pretty damn aggressively.  He laughed it off, and so did she.

Then came pregnancy, and the baby.  Robyn ate carefully, exercised religiously.  Now, six months after giving birth to little Millie, her body was back to normal. Sure, she fretted over the faint stretch marks low on her belly, obsessed over the fact that she had a oh-so-slight pad there where once she was flat and hard.  But on the plus ledger, motherhood gave her curves she’d never had before - especially her breasts.  While pregnantShe’d swelled from a flat-chested small B cup to a overflowing C cup (D, even, if she wanted to brag) while pregnant and stayed there.  Her big cow tits, as she thought of them now.  She felt like she virtually sloshed with milk.  Millie was as fat as butter, and Jack loved her new chest. Just last night, in fact, he’d straddled her and tit-fucked her - something not so feasible before!  She’d squeezed her boobs around his cock as he reached back to rub her clit and when they both came she’d squirted milk copiously, running down her cleavage into the mix that pooled there.

She stood at the window now, her first day back at work, watching Jack, thinking of that. She was surprised how much it aroused her.  Idly, she imagined him there in her office, doing it again, cumming thickly across her breasts. Lost in that fantasy, she was still smiling when she realized he had a new student. Quinn Davis. Robyn couldn’t laugh her off. The Club Bitch. Quinn was the 25 year old daughter of the club’s richest couple, a trust fund brat who was gorgeous outside and viciously ugly inside. She was blonde and trim and built and most definitely did not need tennis lessons. She wore a tiny white skirt and sports bra that bared her midriff and showed off her tanned legs and tits.

“Fuck you, Quinn,” Robyn muttered to herself. She could tell that the blonde was pretending to ask about her forehand. Jack was usually very careful not to touch his students but Quinn literally backed into him, pulling his hand to her elbow so that he would guide her form. Robyn boiled as she watched Quinn deliberately press her tight little ass against Jack’s crotch. He’ll be so embarrassed, she thought. Then Quinn stepped forward as her slender-muscled arm swept through, and Robyn saw that Jack was hard. His shorts couldn’t hide it - a full-on erection.

Robyn felt like someone had taken the air from the room.  He wasn’t embarrassed. He wanted to fuck Quinn. Now the image in Robyn’s mind was that her office had been empty for six months. Empty - except for when Quinn locked the door behind her.  Empty - when Jack came on Quinn’s tits while Robyn was at home with an infant.  His interest in her new curves - was it because he’d been playing with Quinn’s?  Out on the court, she heard Quinn laugh and in that flash Robyn felt certain it was true.  Robyn watched Jack collect equipment and leave the court as Quinn lingered. When he was gone, Quinn turned to meet Robyn’s eyes, and smiled. She’d known she’d been watching. On the deserted court, Quinn brazenly peeled off her sports bra, giving Robyn a long view of her bare breasts before pulling a t-shirt on.

The challenge couldn’t have been clearer. Fuck you, Robyn.  Mine are better than yours. I’ll take your man whenever I want him.

That night, Robyn and Jack argued.  She accused him.  He denied it.  But he couldn’t deny the erection.  She’d seen it.  They went to bed angry.  Robyn barely slept.  But she did make a decision.

The next day was Saturday.  As employees, Robyn and Jack had full use of the club pool.  Robyn often used it, always going in a modest one-piece.  Not today.  She left Millie with Jack and went shopping before heading to the club.  When she left the locker room and walked across the pool deck toward where Quinn reclined, she was in the skimpiest bikini she could find.  She wanted the bitch to see what she was up against.

“Hello, Robyn,” said Quinn from behind her designer sunglasses.  She was in a tiny string bikini herself, one that probably cost $200 even though it had less material to it than a handkerchief.  “You look like a woman with something to prove.”

Robyn dropped her bag and took the lounge chair next to Quinn.  There were only a few others at the pool, distanced enough for a private conversation.  She smiled as if they were friends meeting to sunbathe.

“Here’s the thing, Quinn,” Robyn said as she settled into the chair, her back arched.  Even now, she was unused to the weight of her chest, the sway when she moved.  The fabric of her new bikini top rubbed her nipples.  “Stay away from Jack.”

Quinn laughed.  “Right to the point!” she said.  “Whatever do you mean?  I can’t take tennis lessons?”

“Tennis is fine.  You can’t take fucking lessons,” Robyn said.

“Oh, I give those,” Quinn said.  She stretched her legs.   “Maybe you should take a few.”

Robyn turned her head toward Quinn, her dark hair flowing over her face.  Quinn smiled behind her sunglasses.  Both women’s nipples were hard as diamonds now, visibly denting their bikini tops. 

“You had a baby,” Quinn said.  “You pushed a bowling ball out of your cootch.  You really think it’s as tight as mine now?”  She ran a hand down her stomach, just stopping at her panty line, her lacquered nails teasing at it,  “Jack’s big - almost too big - “ she bit her lip theatrically - “but he doesn’t want to rattle around in your stretched out pussy, darling.”

The bitch could be lying, Robyn knew.  But the jab hurt. 

“You’re a vulgar slut,” she said, carefully keeping her face pleasant.

“Yes,” Quinn said.  “And Jack loves it.”

Robyn took a deep breath.  “Stay away.”

Quinn turned her face back to the pool, and closed her eyes behind her shades.  “You bore me, Robyn.  If that’s all you have, you can go.”

“It’s not all I have,” Robyn said. “Call this a warning, call it a threat, call it whatever.  Leave Jack alone, or I will make you regret it.”  Somehow, she kept her voice low enough.

Quinn took off her glasses and turned to face her.  A long five seconds ticked by.  “You came to me, Robyn,” Quinn said at last.  “You were direct.  I’ll be direct too.  Do you want to fight me?” Her eyes were bright.

She thinks I’m bluffing, Robyn thought.  “If I have to fight you, I will,” she said.  It was a crazy thing to say.   Quinn’s parents practically owned the club.  It would probably mean losing her job, and Jack’s.  But she wasn’t bluffing, goddammit.  She meant it.  She could not tolerate Quinn’s attempt at her marriage.  She reached for her bag, intending to leave on that note.

Quinn’s hand snapped down, fingers closing on Robyn’s wrist, out of sight.  Her lips were parted slightly.  “Oh, yes, you have to,” she said.  Her nipples were stabbing through her top now.  “I’m afraid I really must insist now.” Her grip tightened.

Robyn would not let herself wince.

“Tonight, then,” Quinn said.  “Ten pm.  Court 4.”  The club closed at 8 pm.  Court 4 was the most private, surrounded by thick hedges.  She let go.  “Wear your tennis whites. And Robyn - get a babysitter.  I want your husband there.  He can be the chair umpire.  An easy job, enforcing match rules.”  She settled back again. “You do understand why that will be an easy job, Robyn?”

Robyn nodded.  “No rules to enforce,” she said, and stood, and walked away.
She was in her car when her phone chimed, a text from Quinn.

Tennis whites only, I should have said.  No underwear.  I hope your cute little baby is bottle-trained! 

*******************************************************************************************
Jack couldn’t believe it.  “You’ll get us both fired!” he said.  “This is nuts!”

Robyn walked away.  “I’m going, Jack.  You’re going too  Maybe you haven’t fucked her -”

“I haven’t!”

“- If I don’t do this, you might as well.  I couldn’t face her.  I couldn’t live with her fucking smirking to my face, much less what she’ll whisper behind my back.”

He shook his head.  She turned and came back, close to him.  “She made you hard, Jack,” she said softly.  “I can’t stand the thought of you even possibly thinking of her while we make love.”

He had no answer.  Robyn went to find her tennis whites.

Quinn was there when they arrived, wearing the same skirt and sports bra combo as before.

“Hello, Jack,”  she said.  “I told security you were giving me a special personal lesson and so not to come by when they saw the court lights on.”  She smiled at Robyn.  “They’ve let me fuck lots of guys on the tennis courts before.”

Robyn’s outfit was not as overtly revealing as Quinn’s, but it was sexy.  Quinn gave her the once-over.  Like the pool all over again, they both sported erect nipples already.  The breeze of the warm night air beneath her skirt and over her nude shaved pussy aroused Robyn too.  This was it.

Quinn stepped over the baseline and into the center of the half-court.  She shook out her blonde hair, and just as before, peeled her top off.  Her nipples were pink in the center of bikini-triangle tan lines, small areolas but long nipples, jutting out from perfect breasts.  She tossed the bra away and held out her hands at her sides, palms up.

“It’s love-love, Robyn,” she said.  “Let’s play.”

[DoubleT2]

“Serving” up another wild story!

[Rocko23]

Amazing beginning and setting! Hope that there's milking in this fight! Hope that this is a close battle with both gals getting bloody! Maybe winner fucks loser with a tennis racker? Can't wait for the action to start- come on Robyn!

[Katff]

Love how they are not wearing any underwear under those tennis skirts. Get a feeling one womans pussy is not going to come out of this too well!

[Katff]

Read again. Cant wait for the action and whats going to happen. Is winner going to claim the man in front of loser? Just read comment of winner fucking losers pussy with tennis racket! Brutal but I could totally see that happening in a catfight like this on a tennis court.

[snw]

This could possibly be my favorite story yet. Quinn ,!oh I like that name. Her attitude and confidence. Whether she has been with her man or not Robyn knows if she wants she can unless she stops her. I can’t wait to hear the rest. If I had a pick I know who I’d love to win but I’m not going to say who yet.     But Quinn oh I’m not suppose say.  oh well.

[bcw8]

Robyn turned to Jack and put her arms around his neck. Her body pushed into his chest and as she went up on her toes her tennis skirt rose up to the bottom crease of her ass. She kissed him ferociously hard, her tongue lingering.  For Quinn’s benefit she slid her hand into his shorts and salaciously stroked his erection, then licked her fingers.  “He has a slut at home, bitch,” she said to the waiting blonde. To Jack she said, “No interference.  I mean it.”  She peeled her shirt off over her head.  Her breasts felt electric, her dark nipples alive.  She walked to Quinn.

Their hands found each other, fingers interlaced as they lifted shoulder-high.  A schoolyard test but with stiff nipples brushed together and eyes locked.  The muscles in their forearms corded, their biceps swelled, their pectorals flexed to lift their bared breasts.  Their breathing deepened. Their lips pulled back from their polished teeth. Stalemate, an even match. Robyn searched Quinn’s blue eyes but saw only ice. Her arms began to ache, a deep lactic acid burn. She felt the sweat that formed on her face and chest build and break, trickle down her neck and ribs. Then the blonde girl gasped, short and hard.

Robyn felt the tremor in Quinn’s arms, felt her hands give, just a little. I’m stronger, she thought. It was an incredible, exhilarating thought.

Then Quinn lunged into her. She drove her breasts hard into Robyn’s, pink nipples spearing into brown like the bow of a ship ramming another head-on. Their stomachs slapped together. Their fingerlock loosened for a second then tightened again.  Advantage now to Quinn. She twisted Robyn’s wrists and grinned with clenched teeth at the pain she saw bloom in Robyn’s face.

“How was that, Robyn?” Quinn said, breathing hard.  She twisted harder.  Robyn gasped, trying to keep her legs from buckling.  Quinn lunged into her again, her tits smashing Robyn’s outward and sideways. Their sternums cracked together; the slap of their abs was sharp. Robyn couldn’t hold in a cry of pain.  Her breasts bounded back and Quinn thrust into them again, a direct nipples-to-nipples shot this time.  Nursing had toughened her nipples but this was different.  Quinn’s were hard as stones and drove hers inward with bright bolts of agony.  She moaned and saw how the sound lit up her foe’s eyes.

“I hurt her, Jack,” Quinn said. “These tits that she’s so proud of now, I’ll use them to break her. I’ll beat them back into the flat little boobs she used to have.”  She twisted Robyn’s wrists again and drove the brunette to her knees, dark hair over her face.  Quinn looked over her at Jack with a triumphant smile.

Robyn wrenched her right hand free and shot it up between Quinn’s thighs. Her center knuckle hit dead square the blonde’s clit. Robyn registered how wet it was even as she crushed it. The sensation sent a gush of juices through her own pussy as Quinn screamed and fell to her knees too. Robyn punched her again, this time low in her belly. Oh god, it felt good. This time, she slammed her tits into Quinn, whipping her foe’s head forward then back in a spray of hair.  She felt a hot trickle of milk burst from her engorged nipples to mix with her sweat.

“Take it, whore,” Robyn spat out.

Quinn snarled back with a fist into Robyn’s stomach, then two hands in her gorgeous hair as she doubled over. Robyn tried to brace with her hands but Quinn drove her face down into the court surface. “Having fun yet?” Quinn taunted as she ground Robyn’s cheekbone on the painted asphalt like parmesan on a grater.  She lunged up, pulling Robyn with her, and flung her stumbling into the net. Robyn fell, one arm over it. Quinn kicked her in the ribs, then stomped on her knee. Robyn gasped with pain.

“First point to me,” Quinn said. “Get up, you little cxnt - if you can.”

Robyn hobbled up. Quinn backhanded her across the mouth. She spun and fell again, this time her breasts caught on the tight-stretched top edge of the net. Quinn kicked her in the small of her back. Flame shot up Robyn’s spine and down her legs.  A pulse of milk bubbled from her nipples and ran down the curves of her breasts.  Quinn laughed.

“Try again,” she said.

Robyn put her hands on the net and pushed up. Quinn’s fist hammered her back. She kept her feet, somehow.  She turned, right into another backhand, her lower lip splitting open. She fell to her hands and knees again. Quinn stepped in and ground her heel into Robyn’s hand as she dragged her head up and back.

“That punch in my pussy hurt, Robyn,” Quinn said. “You have to pay for that.”  She wedged her knee against the back of Robyn’s neck and dropped, brutally smashing the brunette’s face into the court.

“Thirty-Love,” Quinn said as she rose. Robyn lay dazed and bleeding. Quinn walked away for her towel and water bottle. She drank, then poured water over her chest, smiling lasciviously at Jack. “Your little wifey really is no match for me, baby. Not here, not in bed. But you know that, don’t you?”

Jack went to Robyn, knelt by her.

“Enough,” he said to her.  “Don’t do this.”

“Listen to him,” chimed in Quinn. “Give up, you pathetic little loser.”

Robyn lifted her head. She looked at Quinn, not at Jack.

“Shut your fucking mouth,” she said. Her bloody lip slurred the words. She started to get up.

Quinn tossed her towel aside. She ran the ten feet or so to Robyn with smooth pumping strides and jump-smashed her knee into her upper chest. Robyn flew backwards into the net, her arms over the top tape, her skirt bunched around her hips. Quinn kicked her in the pussy, then stomped down on her lower belly.  Robyn had endured childbirth; she didn’t scream. Quinn stomped her ovaries again, then her pubic bone. She vaulted the net and gripped Robyn’s hair, jerking her head back, arcing her over the net, her breasts aimed at the night sky.

Quinn hammered chops into them, the knife-edge of her hand smashing down through Robyn’s nipples into the center of her milk-swollen orbs.   The brunette’s body jerked helplessly under the barrage.   Quinn switched to a fist. When she finally let Robyn slump to the court, the young mother’s breasts were livid with welts and bruises, leaking steadily now.

“Let’s say the first game’s over,” Quinn said. “I won. Easily, if I say so myself. Had enough, sweetie?”

Robyn had crawled to the net post and leaned against it, cradling her chest. Her breathing was hard and labored.

“She’s had enough,” Jack said.

“You’re in hurry to fuck me, aren’t you, Jack,” Quinn purred.

Jack opened his mouth, then closed it. He stepped back.

Quinn shook her head. Her eyes burned with fury now. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll not only beat your fucking wife, I’ll humiliate her beyond any point where she’ll ever be able to look you in the eye again.”

“Just fight, bitch,” Jack said.

Robyn pushed up and charged in to Quinn, all-out. The blonde flew off her feet and crashed to the asphalt. Robyn landed on her a split-second later, hands at her throat. When Quinn thrust up with her hips to try to throw her off, Robyn snapped her legs out straight and back in a scissors across Quinn’s waist, all her upper body weight on her locked-out arms as she choked her.  She spat in Quinn’s face, which was already turning dark. “Fucking cxnt,” Robyn said.  “I warned you!”

Robyn had a savage, killing hold. But her breasts swayed down, in easy reach. Quinn’s fingers sank so deeply they nearly disappeared into her flesh. Robyn gasped. Milk spurted thickly down onto Quinn’s breasts and belly.  Robyn’s arms quivered, then failed. Quinn broke her grip, threw her off, rolled away sucking air in.

On the feet, they clashed again. Robyn clawed at Quinn’s breasts. Quinn pummeled Robyn’s lower belly. Robyn suffered more. Each punch Quinn threw sank deep into her. Consciously or instinctively, the blonde was battering her uterus and ovaries. She gave ground under it; Quinn backed her into the chain-link fence that enclosed the court.

Robyn lashed her fist into Quinn’s mouth, whipping her head sideways. Blood sprayed from Quinn’s lips but she caught Robyn’s extended arm. She jerked the brunette around, wrenched her arm up behind her back, and drove her face-first into the wire. Breasts-first, really. Robyn’s titflesh bulged through the wire weave. Then Quinn dragged her sideways.

Oh god. Robyn thought the wire was tearing her nipples off. She screamed, uncontrollably. Quinn stopped, shoved hard on her back. The wire went deep into her breasts again. They stood there. Quinn panted with effort, Robyn sobbed in agony. Then Quinn shot a hand between Robyn’s spread thighs. Her nails found the brunette’s clit in a matter of seconds. Robyn screamed again. The torturous pressure on her tits and the exquisite agony of Quinn’s claw made her milk spurt in rhythm with her pounding heart. It spattered on the leaves of the hedge six inches from the fence.

“This is what I meant by your stretched-out pussy,” Quinn said into Robyn’s ear. She turned her hand and forced four fingers into Robyn. Her nails raked her vagina walls. “And this is what I meant by humiliating you - to start.”  She stabbed her thumb into Robyn’s ass. “Mmmmm,” Quinn said. “That’s still tight, at least.” 

Jack closed his eyes as Robyn shrieked. Quinn pulled her off the wire and threw her back onto the playing surface. She lay there in a heap. Quinn wiped her hand on her dark hair.

“First set to me,” Quinn said.

[catftluver]

This may be your best yet!! WOW.....

[snw]

WOW is right. This is to this point At least its my favorite no doubt, and you’ve had several I loved. If I was, Jack and hadn’t screwed Quinn to this point,  I’d probably be making it known now I wanted too. Probably just say the hell with it and out right start  cheering her performance.

[bcw8]

The asphalt court surface still held some of the day’s heat, but Robyn’s tears were hotter on her cheeks.  Quinn had battered her body.  Her face was cut and bruised too, but it was the way that the blonde woman had attacked and beaten her womanhood that was so devastating; with cool cruelty Quinn had sent the message - you’re not woman enough.  Robyn had tried; she’d clawed Quinn’s breasts, she’d landed that one hard punch in Quinn’s pussy.  And Quinn had nearly destroyed her in return.  Robyn lay on her back, and sobbed softly.

Jack started toward her.

“Don’t,” said Quinn sharply.  “No interference means no help.  Leave her alone.”  To Robyn, she said.  “Two minutes, little mommy.  Then we play again.”

Robyn crawled back to the fence and pulled herself up, hand over hand.  Her pussy was on fire from Quinn’s savage attack.  Her ass hurt too but the burn there was more humiliation than injury.  Her belly ached like it had after Millie was born, a deep lingering cramp.  And all of that paled against the pain in her breasts.  They hung on her chest, heavy and dripping milk from her torn and bleeding nipples.  They were swelling, she could feel it.  Hot fluid from ruptured ducts building up within her.  Bruises from Quinn’s blows and the torture on the wire throbbed across her tightening skin.   Every movement was agony.

“One more minute,” Quinn called.  “Take a good look at your pet cow, Jack.  I’m going to milk her hard.”  She cupped her own breasts, sweaty and scratched but by comparison relatively unscathed.  Her nipples stabbed the night air.  “You can still put your cock between mine.”

“Shut up!”  Robyn screamed.  “Shut up shut up shut up!”

Silence hung between them.  Robyn's rage crackled like ozone after lightning.

“I guess you’re ready for more,” Quinn said softly.  “Tell you what, Robyn.  I could just finish beating the fuck out of you, but to tell the truth it’s dull and not very sporting.”  She walked forward; so did Robyn.  “You know that drill where two players volley back and forth?”  Quinn was an arms-length away now.  She arched her back, putting her breasts out on display.  “I’ll let you go first, Robyn.  Slap my tits.  Then I’ll slap yours.” 

Quinn’s breath came faster as she spoke. This game excited her.  She’d show Jack who the better woman was.  She’d slap the tits off his cxnt wife’s chest.  “Back and forth.  First one to back away loses.  I’ll give you two - no, three - to start.  Then we trade.”

“You twisted bitch,” Robyn said, her voice hoarse.  Her right hand whipped around, her palm cracking into the side of Quinn’s left breast.  Quinn twisted at the waist, and clenched her teeth.  Robyn’s left hand lashed into Quinn’s right breast, driving it up and into the center of her chest.  The pale untanned triangle in its center went red.  Robyn’s right hand flashed again; three slaps in as many seconds.  Quinn’s eyes were bright with tears of pain, and with anticipation. 

“Return this!” she said, and slapped Robyn’s left breast just under her nipple.  A gush of milk flew as the impact crushed the bottom half of Robyn’s tit.  Robyn sobbed, but steadied herself.

Make it good, she thought.  She slapped Quinn back.  Hard.  Harder than she thought she could.  Harder, certainly, than Quinn thought she could.  She crushed the blonde’s breast against her chest wall.  The sound her hand made - and even more, the sound Quinn made - was incredible.  Robyn felt the thrill of adrenaline spiking into her bloodstream..

Slap.  Quinn hit her in exactly the same spot as before.  Robyn twisted in pain.  Her breast was slick with her milk now. 

Slap.  As much as Robyn wanted to hammer both of Quinn’s breasts, she saw the cunning of Quinn’s tactic.  She hit the blonde in exactly the same spot as before herself.  But this time she curled her hand so that her nails raked across Quinn’s erect nipple too.

“You fucking whore,” Quinn gasped.  Her face contorted with pain and fury.

I hurt her, Robyn thought. Good.  She choked back a scream as Quinn volleyed back. 

They stood, nearly toe-to-toe, and battered each other.  Given the state of her tits before they even started, Quinn had never imagined that Robyn would take more than a few slaps before cowering away, begging her to stop.  The brunette’s steel against the onslaught shocked her.  They reached ten slaps each - plus those three free ones Quinn now regretted giving Robyn. 

Twelve.

Fifteen.

Robyn swayed badly.  Her head was down, her eyes dull with pain.  Her left breast was visibly bigger than her right one now, its livid skin tight as a drum.  Her nipple bulged.  Where once it had jutted pertly up, now it angled down.  The milk that dripped from it now was thicker, and streaked with blood. 

Quinn was not much better.  Her breast was badly swollen too, and Robyn had perfected the slash through her nipple.  She looked as if she’d been whipped with a riding crop, her pink nub torn and crimson with blood, an angry piece of raw meat.

Slap.  Slap.

It was Quinn that broke.  Robyn was so near fainting, so braced for another slap that she almost fell when it didn’t come.  Quinn turned away, stumbling, then fell to her knees.  Robyn stared dumbly at the blonde’s back.  Then Jack was there, only a yard away, urging Robyn on.  She took a shambling step forward, and kicked Quinn in the lower back, smashing her face forward to the court.  The jarring impact of the kick made Robyn scream almost as loudly as Quinn.  Exhausted, she dropped, sobbing, to her knees. 

Like a horror movie killer, Quinn pushed up and lunged at her.  Robyn hit her in the face, then backhanded her again.  The blonde was bent forward, her head down.  Robyn hit her in the side.  Quinn moaned.  Robyn hit her again.  Again. 

“Stop,” Quinn sobbed.  Robyn didn’t.  She hit Quinn in the ribs as hard as she could.  Quinn collapsed.  Robyn hit her once more, in her face, then as Quinn went prone Robyn swung onto her back.  She dragged back the blonde’s left arm to twist her torso, then jerked back her head and hooked a hand under her chin. 

Quinn’s left breast bobbed and swayed in easy reach.  Robyn crushed it; mauled it.  She wrung it like a wet rag.

“You’re my pet cow, you whore,” she snarled, as Quinn screamed.  “You, rubbing your ass on my man.  You, in your fucking bikini at the fucking pool, you arrogant cxnt.”  Her voice rose to a scream too.

Robyn let go; caught Quinn’s hair and smashed her face down into the court.  She stood over her.  “One-One, bitch,” she said, as she watched the blood pool under Quinn’s cheek. 

Tie score.

[Rocko23]

Brutal brutal - and wonderful. Glad Robyn came back in this round. Hope that she wins the final round and that theres lots of pussy and womb attacks! Winner has to fuck the loser!! Excellent setting and use of the tennis court.

[DoubleT2]

I cannot imagine how Jack controls his urges! I’d have had several eruptions by now! Great writing! Tim

[Kiva]

Although the brutality level in your stories often falls beyond my comfort zone, I appreciate your writing talent.  When it comes to imaginative settings and set ups, you are the champ!

[bcw8]

Jack’s cock ached. This - this was unbelievable. His beautiful wife, and Quinn.  There was no point denying it in his secret thoughts.  He hadn’t been able to resist Quinn. She was sex, personified.  They hadn’t fucked many times, but each time had been mind-blowing for him.  Then Robyn got pregnant, and Jack had ended it with Quinn. Sort of. Robyn had shocked him when she had accused him of cumming on Quinn’s tits in Robyn’s empty office. It was more because he had been stunned than his own duplicity that he hadn’t blurted out “How did you know?”

And now. This fight. This brutal fight. God, he wanted to fuck her so badly, right now.

Which, you ask?  Both. Both of them.

Quinn got up slowly.  Robyn waited.

Quinn’s face had changed. Not just from blood and bruises. The contempt Robyn had seen was gone. It had been replaced by pure hate. Without another look, Quinn went to her bag, and pulled out a racquet.

She walked to the center of the half-court, the spot where the center line forms a T with the service line. She balanced the racquet there, upright on the butt  of its grip. She walked away, to the singles sideline. She never said a word. She didn’t need to. Robyn understood the challenge. She walked to the opposite sideline.

Quinn unzipped her skirt and let it drop, then kicked it away. She had a bikini line to her hips, a small untanned triangle at her pussy.  Robyn wriggled out of her skirt too. The racquet waited there, exactly between them.

“Final set,” Quinn said. Her voice was hoarse from screaming but unwavering.

“Jack,” Robyn said. “When you’re ready, Say go.”

He looked back and forth between them.  With their bare hands that had nearly torn each other apart.  Now this?  Unbelievable. Jesus Christ.

“Go,” he said.

They shot forward, sprinting headlong at each other.  Robyn was a half-step faster.  She lunged for the racquet, her hand closing on its handle just below its throat.  She felt a surge of triumph - she had it!

At a dead run, Quinn’s knee smashed into her collarbone, a split-second later.  Just as Quinn had planned.  Robyn pinwheeled sideways, landing hard on her side, bouncing onto her back.   Somehow she still gripped the racquet.  Quinn fixed that, by stomping on her hand.  Two of Robyn’s fingers broke with a crunch against the asphalt.  Quinn plucked it from what was left as Robyn screamed. 

“Stupid bitch,” Quinn said.  Robyn had spat in her face, it seemed like an eternity ago.  She returned the favor now, then stepped back.  The racquet whistled as she swung it, a practice forehand, a practice backhand.

“I paid $300 for this racquet,”  Quinn said.  “It’s supposed to be unbreakable.  I do have a temper - Jack knows.”  She swung it down like a hatchet, rim first, into Robyn’s collarbone, then into her face.  Her cheek split open, Robyn went limp.

“Advantage, me,”  Quinn said.  “But sweetie?  Match point will last a long time - I promise you.”

She lifted Robyn by her hair and locked the shaft of the racquet across her throat, and dragged her toward the net.  She arranged the dazed brunette carefully - hung her on the net, arms over it.  With the face of the racquet, she lifted Robyn’s right breast, then her swollen left one, almost gently.  Robyn moaned.  Quinn spun the racquet in her hand and jammed the butt of the grip into Robyn’s open mouth.  Deep.  Robyn gagged, her body jerking.

“It’s a small grip,” Quinn said.  “Not much thicker than Jacky’s cock.  No wonder he liked throat-fucking me so much, if that’s all you can take.”  She spun the racquet back and stepped over the net, rubbing the strings over Robyn’s left nipple as she did.  Once behind Robyn, she carefully put the racquet down.  She twisted a grip of Robyn’s sweat-soaked hair and dragged her head back as far as she could.  Her bruised and cut right cheek pressed against Robyn’s newly gashed left one.  She ran her hands over the brunette’s breasts.

“I want to feel this,” she said, and squeezed.

Robyn screamed, and fought, but Quinn’s arms over her shoulders pinned her arms down, behind the net.  Quinn’s strong hands crushed her milk-heavy breasts, her nipples engorged and bulging.  Slowly, powerfully, Quinn milked Robyn, squeezing her tits at her chest wall then out to her swollen nipples.  Twin streams of milk burst out, squirting a full three feet across the court surface.

“Oh god,” Robyn sobbed.  It burned.  It burned like liquid fire.  What had happened?  She’d beaten the blonde bitch, she’d slapped her tits into submission, she’d taken her down.  She’d had all the momentum.  But Quinn had turned it.  She’d suckered Robyn with the racquet.  And now she had taken Robyn prisoner, in effect.  A helpless cow.   

Quinn squeezed Robyn’s breasts again, and again.  She turned her face a little, her lips against Robyn’s ear.  “I’m going to milk you dry, Robyn,” she said.  “You hurt my tits and now I’m going to destroy yours.”  Her face turned up to the night sky, Robyn screamed and screamed.  "You can’t keep your man in your bed," Quinn said.  Robyn's milk turned thicker, and thicker, as it diminished  As Quinn drained her.  The stream from her battered left breast ended first, choked with blood.  Quinn didn’t stop.  Her hands cramped into claws, but she didn’t stop.  She watched in fascination as Robyn’s breasts sagged in her grip, empty and deflated.  “You were tougher than I thought, Robyn,” she whispered.  “But I’m better than you.  You know that now, don’t you?”

The fire in Robyn’s breasts was too much.  Her answer was a broken sob.  “Yes.” 

Quinn closed her eyes.  "Your baby will go hungry," she said, and the cruelty of her words would have been enough for most women, but not for her.  She reached behind her, and found the racquet.  “What does the better woman get, Robyn?” she asked.

“No,”  Robyn sobbed.  “Please.  No.”

Quinn brought the racquet over the net, over Robyn’s shoulder.  She angled it between Robyn’s thighs, used the rim to part her pussy lips.  Slowly she dragged it up.  She imagined she could feel the strings, laced through the beam, bumping over Robyn’s clit.  Robyn sobbed again.  Quinn saw a final drop of milk emerge from her right nipple. 

“Please don’t,” Robyn begged.  Her voice was nearly gone.  Quinn lifted the racquet head, six inches, a foot.  “Please!” Robyn said again, but Quinn drove the graphite edge down.  Her aim was flawless.  Robyn shrieked and writhed as the blonde beat her clit into a tiny version of her ruined tits.

“What do I get, Robyn?” Quinn asked again.

Robyn was a shell of a woman now, a beaten husk.  No more no more no more, her brain shrieked at her.

“Him,” she said, her lips barely moving.  “You get him.”

Quinn laid the racquet across Robyn’s belly.  She touched the bruises her fists had left there, then ran her hands up Robyn’s body.  She cupped her breasts. 

“Empty bags,” Quinn said in Robyn’s ear.  “Say his name, Robyn.”  She squeezed.  Robyn stiffened.  No more no more no more no more.  The court spun and wheeled.  The moon dimmed.

“Jack,” Robyn moaned.  “You get Jack.”

Quinn licked Robyn’s ear, then bit it as she squeezed what was left of her breasts, harder.  “You know what I want to hear,” Quinn whispered.  Robyn shuddered.  No more. 

“Please,” she whispered back.  “Please fuck Jack.  Please fuck my husband.  Please.”

Quinn smiled, and raised her eyes to Jack.  “Game - Set - Match,” she said.

[sinclairfan]

"Oh, I give those."

Classic