The warm shower helped soothe Misha's body. It had been 2 days since the fight with Sofia. Misha shuddered, touching her behind. Sofia had made her feel different.
Misha hadn't gotten any more catfight requests. Then suddenly out of nowhere, she got one. The setting however was different. It was an oil wrestling fight.
Misha had never done anything like that. She hesitated, but she wanted to get over the strange feelings she had for Sofia. She accepted the request.
Her opponent was Amira Bashar, an Arabian woman. She was 5'9", with large 36DD breasts, her body more chiseled than Misha's and much taller than her. She was very muscular, and had strong thick thighs. She had bronze skin, and coppery brown hair.
It was finally the day of the match. Misha had been, training to wrestle in oil, with Hitomi and had seen videos on it. She was still nervous.
As usual she was driven to the arena, but they went to a different floor.
Misha had changed, and was waiting in the locker room, when she met Amira as she stepped out.
"Hello there, chocolate!", she said. "Let's have a great night", Amira said, licking her lips.
"I'm up for that".
There was a large audience, seated in the chairs. The ring was in the centre of the room, with the audience seated as if in a colosseum.
The ring was circular in shape, and the inside was sort of like a tub, with thick viscous fluid reaching their ankles.
Misha and Amira entered.
"Good evening my dear clients, tonight we have the Arabian amazon, Amira Bashar, and on the other hand we have Misha Datta, the jewel of South Asia."
Misha wore her usual. Amira wore a circlet, like Misha, but with emerald stones. She wore a dark green G string, and matching micro bikini bra, which barely managed to cover her tits, providing cover only for her nipples.
"You may now fight."
Misha slowly circled the ring, wary of slipping. Amira strutted, confidently, as she was the queen of oil fights. She had great experience in them.
The two well endowed women clapped their hands and wrestled. Misha struggled a lot, as the floor was slippery. She almost slipped. Amira began pushing Misha back easily, step by step. Then they changed tactics.
Amira grabbed Misha's thong, and Misha did the same to Amira. After a few moments of fierce struggle to secure dominance over the other woman's undergarments, Misha realized she wasn't experienced in this fight. Her feet easily slid, and slipped. Amira took advantage of this fact. She roughly grabbed Misha's thong, and savagely pulled it toward her, all niceties now gone. Misha was jerked forward as easily as a rag doll, and thrown on the oily floor, her bra giving out, and her large tits splayed out on the floor, all oiled up and squished. Amira walked over and sat down on Misha's back, pushing her breasts further into the oil. Amira was facing Misha's magnificent behind, Misha struggling to get up, flailing her arms and legs. Amira grabbed Misha's thong. "Let's see that coco pod then", cooed Amira, as she tugged it hard. Amira pulled Misha's thong way over her crotch, the fabric stretching to unimaginable lengths.
Misha had worn an extra elastic thong which wouldn't tear as easily as it had done in previous fights, exposing her privates. It had worked, her crotch was safely hidden from view. But her flower bud was being violated by the persistently stretched cloth. Misha's legs flailed out, her breasts still squished, she cried out "Wait wait wait! Don't tear my-"
Amira tightened her grip and pulled harder, eliciting yelps from Misha.
"Looks like your girl is well protected. Oh well. I'm gonna get it eventually. And you'll be begging for it...." The bell rung.
Amira finally got up. Her muscled thighs and legs were like an anchor. The moment she got up, Misha jumped up from the floor. She shakily stood on her knees, her breasts all wet and soppy from being soaked in oil, her nipples were now turgid and erect. As she stood up, her breasts were completely excited, each of them pointing in a different direction. She rubbed her sore pussy, but was pleased Amira couldn't remove her last line of defense.
After a few minutes the bell rang again. Amira and Misha approached each other. Misha shot forward, and jumped, her legs landing on Amira's waist, her thick thighs squeezing the life out of her flat brown belly. Amira was taken aback and staggered but managed to stay upright. Misha had wrapped herself around her like a python. Misha then went for the kill. Her claws shot up and grabbed Amira's scantily clad nipples(which were the only part of her breast that was covered), and twisted them 360 degrees. Amira shrieked like a fox in heat.
Misha smiled mischievously, adjusting the pressure and pulling on the Arabian tits alternately. She pinched, pulled, twisted and rotated her tits so much, the Arabian woman's moans turned into an opera.
Amira couldn't stand straight anymore, so she fell on her back, causing a splash from the oil filled floor. Misha kept twisting her abdomen with her thick thighs, and her tits with her seasoned sharp claws. Amira flailed her hands, writhed her legs, and tried to shake her off but it was in vain.
" It seems like these big girls don't know how to give milk", scoffed Misha.
Amira was irked. She glanced at Misha's chest. Her large tits were standing still, almost frozen in shock above her head. They were wet and covered with cold oil, with her turgid nipples protruding prominently, even quivering a little.
