Can Do Ep 08

Tuesday morning Trinity felt Amélie-Francois's eyes on her as she and Zenova tried something different. The blonde wondered if the older woman would think it bizarre or perverted.

Zenova lay on her back on the pavilion floor. Trinity was poised over her in a push-up position, her erection dangling at the brunette's lips. Her own mouth was above the brunette's stiff cock. With each repetition of a push-up, they gave each other a quick blowjob. The contest was to see who could do the most push-ups before either quitting or ejaculating. Trinity was about to go ahead. Both women had no trouble doing a hundred regular push-ups, but the strain of sucking and getting sucked took its toll.

"Sixty-three... sixty-four... ungh... sixty-five... oh, God... sixty-six..." The blonde held herself up, muscles straining, sweat dripping from her naked body, cock firmly encased in an eager mouth. "Damn, babe, give a girl a break. Sixty-fuck-fuck-seven." The blonde dipped down to suck in her lover's glistening cock head, relishing its pulse, its heat, its flow of pre-cum.

"Sixty-eight... and..."

Trinity collapsed onto Zenova, feeling her cock swallowed completely, even as she engulfed the brunette's raging erection.

"Are you bored already? After only two weeks and a bit of constant sex and wrestling, are you so jaded that you resort to acts to make the author of the Kama Sutra blush?" The older woman tilted her head, a slow smile playing about her lips.

"This is a measure of stamina and control, Grand-mère," Zenova answered placidly.

"Besides, it's fun," Trinity added, getting her pussy slapped in mock reproach.

"I did the same thing with your grandfather," Amélie-Francois said, as if she meant a walk in the country instead of a strenuous act of sex. "I reached one hundred fourteen. Henri reached one hundred six. Trinity is far short of that. And you, ma chaton?" The older woman's sweet smile was a thin mask for the self-satisfaction of knowing her granddaughter wasn't able to match the count.

"Sixty-two," Trinity said when Zenova refused to answer, turning a bright crimson instead.

"Ah. Perhaps you will improve with practice." There was an uncomfortable pause as Amélie-Francois silently gloated over Zenova's implied shortcoming.

"Do you have something to tell us, Grand-mère? Or are you here to watch?" Zenova's peeved voice sounded childish, and she knew it. Trinity almost felt sorry for her.

"Both." The older woman let the word hang in the air for several seconds, content to let her granddaughter's embarrassment grow. "Marie Laurent fell last evening. She is not seriously hurt, but is ordered bed rest for three days. When the taxi arrives, I am going to Waterloo to help her. The two of you will be on your own for the entire week. I trust I can leave you to fend for yourselves without burning down the house or injuring each other with your games?"

"Yes, Grand-mère, we will be fine." Zenova wriggled from beneath Trinity, sitting crossed legged on the floor. Her cock lay flaccid along her thigh. Trinity's dick was soft, too.

"Give Marie my love and wishes for a quick recovery." The brunette rose to kiss her grandmother on both cheeks. "We promise to behave. All will be well when you return."

Amélie-Francois turned to stare at Trinity, who rose awkwardly to stand next to Zenova. The older woman continued to stare until the brunette shoved the blonde forward with her shoulder. Trinity and Amélie-Francois exchanged kisses to the cheeks.

"Did you not think you are to promise as well? Being part of the family has its duties, you know."

"Family? Huh?" Trinity looked from Zenova to the grandmother, confused, feeling heat flush her face.

"Grand-mère has decided to adopt you. She did not ask me if I approved." The brunette's eyes flashed.

Trinity knew her mouth hung open, that her expression was one of stupid confusion. Things were moving faster than she expected. She should say something. "OK," was all that came to mind. Amélie-Francois patted her shoulder, then turned and left.

Trinity broke the deep silence that followed. "If I'm adopted by your grandmother, does that make me your step-mother? Oww!"

The blonde followed Zenova as she stalked away, rubbing the shoulder where she'd been punched a lot harder than she felt was necessary.

------

The sun was halfway up the eastern sky when Trinity walked into the garden, holding a bottle of Syrah and a large Bordeaux glass. It was mostly the glass that held her concentration: it was finely spun, seeming fragile in her hand. She'd considered several of the glasses in the cabinet, deciding on the big one because then she and Zenova could both drink from it. That thought excited her. She shrugged to get the big t-shirt settled around her shoulders and the baggy exercise shorts to slip more comfortably on her hips. Her partner--lover was still a word that gave her pause--was speaking to someone on her cell phone.

The blonde set the glass on the table between the two chaises, poured nearly half the bottle into the crystal bowl, and knelt between Zenova's thighs. She fished the brunette's limp cock from within a pair of shorts a twin to those she wore. A bit of expert mouth work--made more expert by the past two weeks--got it erect and pulsing. A sip from the glass, and she was able to combine the blowjob with the flavor of the wine. Zenova seemed to enjoy it. As she spoke to the phone in English about times and schedules, she laid her hand on Trinity's head, caressing it, urging it to take in more of the cock, which the blonde did willingly, pausing only to get more wine.

Phone call done, Zenova settled in the chaise with the wine glass where she watched Trinity suck her cock, keeping the brunette aroused but safely away from orgasm. Occasionally, she poured some of the wine on her erection as the blonde licked it. The combined taste of cum and wine aroused Trinity. After ten minutes of penile attention, the women traded positions: Trinity holding the wine glass, Zenova holding an eager cock.

"Who was on the phone?" the blonde asked as the brunette licked her glans. "Anyone I know?"

"Ronja Lindsrom. She and Yelena Tarasenko are coming tomorrow, as we hoped. It will be more than three days since their fight. They should be recovered enough to be fresh for another bout."

Zenova and Ronja had exchanged phone numbers on Saturday and the brunette told Trinity on the drive back from the interrupted fight that she offered to let the two 'enhanced' women finish their match in her ring, if she could arrange it. With Amélie-Francois gone for the week, it was the perfect time.

"It is odd," Zenova mused, interrupting the blowjob to stroke Trinity's erection, watching cum ooze from the slit. "When I asked her if the day was agreeable to Yelena, I heard the Russian in the background. I think they are sharing a hotel room."

"Their managers are still in jail," the blonde replied. "I think. Not sure if they got paid for the fight, what with the riot and all. Seems like a good way to save money. If they can avoid killing each other."

Wine gone, the pair abandoned their alternating blowjobs for a slow walk to the ring, removing each other's t-shirt and shorts, spending the rest of the day inventing complex holds and finding ways to get out of them. Their wrestling was casual, heavy on sex, light on grappling. By the time they quit, the sun was down and they'd both come three times. Dinner was forgotten, replaced by a bottle of white burgundy--one glass between them--and a trip to the theatre room, where they watched a mock female MMA match, the standard ground and pound replaced with with ground and trib.

Once again, it took a long time to climb the stairs. Both women, aroused from the day's wrestling and the energetic video fuck fight, were lightly coated in sweat and naked when they reached the bedroom. Their cum- and sweat-stained clothes littered the steps and upper hall.

Neither woman reached orgasm during the video, preferring to build the tension. A long shower did nothing to deflate their lust until they were entangled on the bed. Trinity let Zenova hold both her wrists above her head while the brunette worked her long cock in Trinity's pussy in a dominant missionary position.

The blonde lay back, content to be submissive. When Zenova removed her hands from her wrists, Trinity held them in the same position, as if they were bound. It made the sex more exciting, which mildly confused her. She was used to struggling for 'top' position. Being a 'bottom' had never appealed to her. Until this night.

Zenova sat back on her knees, cock still in her lover's pussy, Trinity's ass raised as it lay on the olive-skinned thighs. Zenova lightly slapped the pale breasts, raking her fingers across engorged nipples, working her way down to slap the erect cock back and forth. Trinity let the soft, arousing cuffs roll through her. She worked her Kegel muscles in time with the blows, hands still above her head, driving inexorably to climax.

The brunette came first, her body tensed as she ejaculated, hitting the blonde's cock harder as the orgasm gripped her. Trinity stiffened, trying to prolong the moment of calm before tumbling into an epic climax. Her pussy spasmed around Zenova's cock; her own cock twitched, spurting cum in a high arc to land on her breasts and abs. The women fell together in a sweaty, cum-laced haze, exhausted. They slept.

An hour later, Trinity was top while Zenova assumed the bottom role, her hands crossed above her head like the blonde's had been earlier. She gave the brunette the same treatment, enjoying both the light punishment of her partner and Zenova's obvious arousal. She hadn't expected that either of them would accept a passive position; they were both tops and unwilling to let anyone dominate them. It was the struggle that was arousing, at least it was what she'd thought until now.

A rapid massage of her cock by Zenova's interior muscles pushed her over the edge. She came, with almost the same rush to climax as before. The brunette followed her, whimpering softly as her body shivered in ecstasy. There was less cum than earlier. Five orgasms each had taken its toll.

The women curled up, too tired to lick the silken fluids from tender parts. Trinity drifted off into comfortable oblivion, Zenova snuggled against her. Her last thought was that this month was probably the last time until after New Year's when they'd have friendly sex.

------

Zenova huffed, eyes squeezed shut, face squinched and bright red as she struggled to her thirty-eighth sit-up. Trinity knew how hard it was to concentrate, because she'd managed only thirty-five earlier. The pair were trying yet another inventive cardio exercise. The Belgian was impaled on the blonde's cock, legs locked around Trinity's waist. Each ab crunch forward pushed the long, pale erection further into her pussy. Adding to the difficulty was Trinity's slow massage of her erection. It was only fair. The blonde had been in the same position minutes before, chuffing until she collapsed with a weary wave of her hand.

"I am done." Zenova lay on her back, letting Trinity fuck and stroke her slowly. "It is much harder than I thought, harder even than the push-ups. But..." her eyes twinkled with impish glee, "... I have done more than you."

"As I recall, love, it was you who told Shiobhán on Saturday night that it wasn't who was on top, it was who was doing the fucking." The blonde wriggled her hips, drawing a low moan from the woman beneath her. "Seems like I'm both on top and doing the fucking. Admit it, you don't care how many sit-ups either of us did as long as I keep slapping your cock."

Zenova was spared having to answer. Two large shadows fell on them. Ronja and Yelena stood in one of the pavilion openings, blocking the mid-morning light.

"I should try that with you, Tarasenko," the Swede said, lips curled in an evil sneer. "You would complete, perhaps, two sit-ups before melting in a puddle of cum."

The young Russian said nothing. Her face was puffy, though her eyes were unnaturally bright and fully open. Ronja seemed less battered but her sparkling right eye was partially closed. It was obvious their interrupted fight had continued at a low level in the last three days. Both women wore loose sweat clothes, so it was impossible to tell if their match had consisted only of occasional punches to the face or more serious body blows.

"Sorry," Trinity said as she stood, well aware of her mostly erect cock waving in the air. "We were passing the time while we waited for you." She helped Zenova to her feet, noting--with gleeful satisfaction--the brunette's cock was more deflated than hers.

"You can put your bags near whatever corner you choose." Zenova waved toward the ring, then slapped Trinity's cock.

------

"Are you two sharing a room?" Trinity asked Ronja, more than moderately curious. She and the Swede were in one corner of the ring. Zenova and Yelena were in the opposite corner. The blonde felt power radiating from the woman. Not only was she four inches taller than either she or Zenova--Yelena was an inch taller still--she moved with the coiled grace of a wolf stalking prey. Up close, her lean body rippled with starkly defined muscles as she removed her sweat shirt and pants. Trinity was reminded of Connor McGregor without the beard, but with breasts and probably a bigger cock.

"Ja." Ronja wrinkled her face into a noncommittal moue. "Our managers are no longer in Belgium and we are on our own." At Trinity's incredulous face, she laughed; the throaty sound set a fire in the blonde's crotch.

"Verkligt. I mean, it's true. Both were driven across the German border to Aachen and told to never come back. They were also told to stay away from Yelena and me. The Consortium can be persuasive." The corner of Ronja's mouth ticked up in either amusement or resignation. "We are now without 'guidance' and forced to rely on each other." The Swede shivered. "It has been a stressful three days."

Fading marks on Ronja's torso as well as the swollen eye spoke volumes. Trinity could only imagine what two enhanced women who weren't on good terms could do to each other if they argued in the small space of a hotel room.

"You didn't settle the fight while you were in the room?"

"No. We cannot take enhancement within three days of a previous treatment. All we could do was argue and," a hand brushed across her face, "make ourselves as miserable as possible. This morning we are ready. Yelena will pay for her insults and her despicable fighting on Saturday. I will enjoy this."

Ronja finished undressing. Trinity got a close look at the woman's impressive cock rising to full erection--Over eight inches long and three of her fingers thick. The blonde wondered briefly what it would be like to tangle with someone so... intense. She pushed the thought aside when images of the fight on Saturday evening returned.

I'd never survive

, she reminded herself.

But I'd die happy

.

The Swede settled a blue and yellow mouthguard around her upper teeth and slipped on a pair of fingerless gloves with small pads across the big knuckles. "We could fight as we did earlier," Ronja said in a muffled voice at Trinity's quizzical look, "but I will take my time beating Yelena. Loose teeth and broken knuckles will only force me to finish her too quickly."

Yelena was ready as well. Her cock, risen to an impressive erection, was a half inch longer than Ronja's and just as thick. Her face and body showed the same pattern of fading bruises. She was taller, probably stronger, and younger than her opponent but lacked experience, if Saturday's fight was an example. Trinity knew strength and daring alone didn't win fights. Intelligence did.

The women met in the center of the ring. Yelena's mouth showed a white, red, and blue mouthguard.

"Are there any rules?" Zenova asked.

"Are they needed?" Yelena replied, slapping her cock against Ronja's.

"Some are," the Swede replied, returning a cock slap of her own. "No rounds unless we both agree to a rest. Knock downs do not end a round; the fighter on her feet can continue the attack. No submissions. The winner is the woman standing while the other is unconscious."

"Regardless of condition," Yelena added.

Ronja nodded her assent. "I will take my time with you, slampa. You get no mercy from me."

"You will beg me to let you pass out, shlyukha. But I will not let you until I close both your eyes with my fists and empty my balls into your weak cunt."

Ronja and Yelena stood close: noses, nipples, and cocks pressed together. Small beads of sweat began glistening on their shoulders and chests. Their lips, distended by the mouth guards, touched wetly.

"Glad to see you two agree on something," Trinity said with a resigned shrug.

The amazons touched gloves and began circling as brunette and blonde left the ring.

Trinity and Zenova left the two fighters to themselves and went in search of something to sit on and watch the carnage in comfort. They decided on the double chaise instead of the individual chairs. The wooden arms got in the way of proper groping. They slipped on robes, more from habit than any reluctance to be naked while two other naked women beat the crap out of each other. With the chaise set close to the low ring, they had an excellent view of the action, as well as easy access to their cocks and pussies.

Both fighters decided on the direct approach. The match wasn't a vicious slugfest, but it wasn't a sparring session. The slap-thud of fists on hard flesh provided a steady staccato to the counterpoint of shuffling feet and grunts as the blows landed in a deliberate mutual beating. As in the earlier fight, neither woman put up more than a token defense, preferring to take a punch if they got in one or two themselves. Ronja liked the clinch while Yelena worked the outside. The young Russian was already bleeding from a nasty cut over her right eye; she was strong but not used to close work. Ronja took advantage, wrapping up her opponent's longer reach, while getting in good head and body shots before dancing away with a parting jab or hook to the chest.

It wasn't all one-sided. Yelena had fast hands, using speed to rock the Swede back on her heels more than once with combinations that slid over or under what appeared to be a solid defense--when it was used. Ronja's left eye was swelling and she bled freely from her nose and mouth. Neither woman seemed to notice the damage. Gloved fists landed on face and body with a steady, arousing rhythm.

"They're enhanced again, aren't they?" Trinity asked. She continued after Zenova nodded, "Is it safe to get all pumped up again so soon?"

"I have no idea," the brunette answered with a shrug. "I know those who are enhanced do not have long careers with the Consortium, unlike you or I, who can expect to fight for years. If it is by choice or because they wear out faster, Je ne sais pas."

When the blonde arched a questioning eyebrow, Zenova sighed. "'I do not know.' You really must learn to speak French. It is hard to have a civilized conversation with you in English."

Trinity shook her head. "They aren't like the other two, Takeuchi and Meynell. This is way too personal. It's exciting, but kind of disturbing."

Zenova untied the blonde's robe to stroke the already hard erection. "I agree. But this is a guilty pleasure for us both. They do the things we dream of but cannot. Tell me you can look away."

"No, babe, it's way too fuckin' hot." Trinity had Zenova's cock in her hand. The women masturbated each other as Ronja and Yelena punched each other across the ring. Only the control learned during the last two and a half weeks kept them from ejaculating too soon.