Ch 4 Two Broke Tits

Sonia had struck out with her attempts at a celebrity titfight in the weeks after her dual victories in New Orleans, and life back home was settling into its familiar groove. We did enough work to keep ourselves occupied and fulfilled on that front and participated in the snooty social conventions that our neighborhood and financial status required. A new couple had moved into the area. Walter and Geraldine were quite the pair. He was a venture capitalist who specialized in medical innovations, so it was essential that I show him the ropes, while his trophy wife was a little spitfire with a huge rack that was obviously too firm if you know what I mean.

Geraldine looked to be about Sonia's age, maybe a little older if I had to guess, and probably half an inch shorter. While my wife's sun aided natural tan looked real, the new woman's deep tan looked like she had basted herself and hopped in the oven for a few hours. Everything looked dry and crackly. Her short platinum blonde hair looked like it was either dyed or she was still doing the old sun-in trick. Of course, the thing you're interested in are those tits. They looked like they were every bit as big as Sonia's, maybe bigger if you ask me while my bride isn't around, but so impossibly firm that they were obviously as fake as her tan and her hair. Sonia and I had a few laughs together speculating whether or not it was silicone or cement that was used to mold her wonder twins to her chest.

An early spike in the springtime weather convinced one of the upper crust couples to throw an impromptu pool party on a Saturday, and that's where our opinions changed. Sonia, like most of the women, knew that there was a certain decorum expected and showed up with a conservative one piece and coverup. Her exquisite tits were showing just enough to keep pace with the enhanced wonders that many wives had acquired after she beat their real equipment into submission. Noticing the distant stares in the eyes of our conversation partners, Sonia and I turned around to see what had their attention. There they were. Walter was fit and strong looking, especially for his age, but nobody even saw him at first. Geraldine was in a white two piece that was barely more than dental floss where it tied together and obviously sheer in the cups and the crotch.

Even more revealing was the jiggle in her tits as she walked. They were definitely real, I have no idea what she did to keep them from moving when she wore her regular clothes, and the size was enough to rival my titfighter's own mass. Of course we had no way of knowing just how firm they were at that moment, but Helen Keller could read the faces and murmurs of the party goers that day. Everyone wanted to find out who's tits were best. Sonia was respected, but not particularly well liked, by her female peers and they were willing to have another boob bully running in their circles if it meant my vixen was taken down a peg.

******

On my way home just a few days later, I still couldn't shake those giant melons and the questions I had about their quality relative to my Sonia. I didn't doubt her ability to beat the new wife, seeing that her only recent loss was to an impossibly firm rack that is 20 years younger than hers, but I still relished those moments where she reinforced her place as the best titted wife in our social circles.

I opened the door from the garage, and walked into the kitchen, surprised that I wasn't greeted with a hello. Not really wondering at it, I grabbed a glass of water and walked into the living room. Well, I started to walk into the living room. The sight that welcomed me was so astonishing that I nearly dropped my water. Sonia was sitting in one of our end chairs, with it turned to face the room entrance, with her head hanging down. Her makeup was smeared, her eyes looked glassy and distant, and most importantly her tits were red and deflated like a couple of balloons with holes poked in them.

"Hi there, you must be Darrell."

I turned my head sharply, again completely flabbergasted by the unexpected noise since I hadn't even realized someone else was in the room, nearly dropping my glass of water a second time. What I saw was a vision unlike anything I had seen before. A nearly naked body, tits at least a cup size bigger than my wife's that looked like nothing had happened, and a face that I would recognize anywhere. Kat Dennings was standing there with a nonchalant look, almost giggling at my realization of who she was as I tried to piece together the puzzle before me.

"You're probably wondering what happened here, and I could tell you, but I think it's best if you hear it from your wife."

"Darrell, I couldn't tell you about this because Kat wanted it to be private with the winner getting her tits sucked by the loser and then getting to display the losing tits to you when you got home. I thought she would be easy, since her tits look so soft and floppy with the way that most of her tops squoosh them up, but those are the best tits I've ever felt. She toyed with me, slapping my boobs all over the place, doing whatever she wanted no matter how hard I fought back. She has the best tits in the world. I was just a mouse that she was toying with until she got bored and smashed me flat with her perfect tits."

Hearing this I turned my head back to the short, voluptuous actress. She really was a sight to behold. Her waist was narrow while her hips splayed out. Her skin was perfectly pure white, seemingly untouched by the sun during her first 30 years of life. Her lips were full in the most seductive of manners. Her eyes and demeanor suggested she was every bit as mischievous as the characters she usually played. Most importantly, her tits were absolutely phenomenal. As full a DD as I have ever seen, they had fantastic shape and obvious density beneath a thin layer of soft, feminine outer flesh. Her nipples and areola, a pale pink that was at points indistinguishable from her skin, were nearly the equal of Sonia. No sooner had I started to wonder how Ariel had mentioned her as an easy target than she seemingly read my mind and set the record straight.

"That little wannabe Kardashian bitch with the fat ass is delusional. She called my perfect tits floppy, but she was barely able to outlast me literally the day after I answered the biggest question in Hollywood by destroying Christina Hendricks huge hooters. She used to be the best, but she's over the hill now, and I'm the new queen. Ariel found out about the fight and goaded me into one with her, and it still took her over an hour and a lucky break to barely win. She's been ducking me ever since, but you can bet I'm going to flatten that ugly teenage slut the first chance I get."

With that out of the way, and with some ice packs on my wife's tits, I sat down as the three of us discussed a variety of topics even as the women were both still clothed in nothing but thongs. When the topic of Sonia's history of titfights came up, things got interesting again. Kat had hired an Uber for the day, since she has that kind of 'fuck you' money, and scouted out the neighborhood before feeling comfortable enough to proceed with the titfight against my queen. Kat complemented Sonia, telling her to disregard the result as only one or two women had ever been able to put up any kind of real fight against her and the Colombian had the best tits she had ever fought outside of the celebrity circles of Hollywood.

Sonia felt buoyed by the complement and wondered how long her tits would need to recover. When Kat asked why, Sonia and I regaled her with the topic of the new trophy wife in town and her ridiculous tits. Kat grabbed her phone and pulled up a picture, asking us if that was the woman. Apparently during her scouting of the neighborhood she had seen Geraldine out jogging, and snapped a picture as she wondered if it might be Sonia with her hair dyed blonde. The actress made it clear that if the blonde's tits were real, they looked solid and it would be wise for my wife to let herself heal up fully before trying to tame those cannons.

"From what I saw I'm pretty sure you'll beat her but I wouldn't get too cocky about it. Get your tits back to 100% so that you'll know you've got enough to beat her. Anything less and she might get lucky."

With that the TV star stuffed her fantastic body back into her clothes that disguised her enough that she could move around town fairly freely and summoned the Uber that dropped her off earlier. With a final playful slap of Sonia's ass, she pecked us both on the cheek and disappeared from our lives.

******

To make sure things played out perfectly, a couple of days later Sonia and I took an impromptu vacation to Belize for two weeks, and then laid low from the standard social circles for a few more days after our return. A quick feeler or two suggested that the blonde trophy knew about the tit tussles that had occurred in our neighborhood and had ascertained that she wasn't willing to face anyone but the best. Sonia, now fully rested and healed up, had immediately agreed to the matchup.

Upon the insistence of the other couple, Walter and I stood there in nothing but our boxers while the women faced off. Sonia was still in her fight suit, that obscenely skimpy leopard print thong and loosely tied black kimono, waiting for Geraldine's tits to make their first unaided appearance so she would know just how much of an advantage she had over the new pretender to the throne. The blonde wife removed the heavy robe she had worn and let it drop to the floor. I have no idea what Sonia's reaction was, but mine was unmuted lust.

The blonde was fit, but we already knew that, although Sonia seemed to be in even better shape. Her ass was really nice, probably in Sonia's league, as were her legs. But we were here to see tits put to the test and if the first impression was accurate, it was going to be an extremely difficult exam.

Geraldine's tits were bigger than Sonia's. Like my wife, there were no tan lines. The areolas were a dark pink and probably the equal of the Colombian. The nipples looked to be just a bit thicker and just a bit longer. The big shocker was there were no surgical scars and there was almost no sag. Her tops weren't playing tricks, and her bikini wasn't presenting a false image, she was really just that stacked. She even let me feel them to confirm they were real. So, with her tits out in the open, she tapped her foot and winked at my bride.

"Let's see them bitch."