Off The Court Pt 09

...A Continuation of 'On The Court'...

Off The Court Part 9

by moanalo

~~~~ Scissors ~~~~

At almost the same instant we move forward, colliding, and I wasn't prepared for how much force she attacks with. Has she been holding back as well? One thing I have learned thus far, she knows how to leverage her height advantage and pivot her body away at precisely the last second. My hips spin trying to throw her to the ground in an awkward, poorly attempted Judo throw, but instead my feet slip from where our sweat is spreading all over the mats. Now we are both tumbling down, creating a frantic blur of arms and legs as we roll around. I try to wrap my legs around Monique's middle, but she slips out. When I spun around to try and jump on to top of her she lashes her long legs around my torso and got me, and then squeezes. On my knees I brace my hands against her inner legs to push them apart for freedom. She squeezes harder.

"Oh my God!" I moan. Like an idiot I did not try and flex my powerful abs, and now it is almost too late. 'Too little, too late.' She has me locked in tight and my admissions of pain only spurns her on. I went to drive my elbows into her thighs but with a look of pure rage on her face she leans back and every cord of muscle pops out of her thighs. My guts feel like they are being crushed! Screaming in agony, in a tone and from a place I didn't know existed, I thus begin to panic. I was in real pain! Squirming around for relief but could find none. Toppling over on my left side, but still I could find no leverage or relief there. She kept flexing her legs, tormenting me. Now I focus all my efforts on flexing my abdominal muscles, one-by-one my abs began popping all along my torso. Her scissor hold was in so deep I have no idea how I was hanging on. But I was...hanging on...barely. It was down to her leg muscles against my six pack, now it was an eight pack of straining muscles flexing with all the power I could muster. I am grunting and groaning, making all sorts horrible noises, but I did not care. The sweat is really rolling off our bodies as we strain against one another.

A war is a series of battles and I didn't want to blow away too much energy on this one battle. And so, as much as I hate doing this...

Panting..."Okay, Okay. I give." She squeezes one more time making me scream. The fucking bitch! "I said I give!"

She let go and gives me a firm shove with her left foot, "There! Take that you bitch."

I roll away from her as I clutch at my stomach and try not to cry. As concerning as the loss is, I was also feeling around my ribs and stomach for any signs of injury. It took me a few seconds longer than I want for me to recover. When I sit up and turn around I find Monique sitting on her ass, right knee up, while leaning on her left arm. Her right arm draped over her upright knee as if she is impatiently waiting on me, all the while wearing this shit-eating smirk on her face.

Now I wish I had tried to fight off her hold.

My gaze diverts to the mat and find myself really wanting to hurt this girl. Really hurt her. But let her think I was mentally cracking, so I kept avoiding her gaze.

~~~~ Squeezing ~~~~

Monique fully stretches out her left leg and slaps her thigh muscles, rubbing her hand up and down her sweaty skin. "You want some more of this white girl, just come on over and I'll crush you again with these black legs."

Her racial jab does not go unnoticed, and some primordial competitiveness channels up from a place I am not at all comfortable with. I do not respond 'in like', but you know what? Fuck her and her legs. Bring them on. My torso muscles against those legs anytime, any day! I will never back down again.

"When I break those legs you won't be running that big mouth so much." I seethe.

My comment causes an excited look of anticipation from Monique, as if that was exactly what she wants me to say. More mind games? Back up to my knees and then to my feet, she was right behind me as we moved toward one another. A growl came from someplace inside of me, Monique looking eager to get at me as well. We came together in a rush. My hands grab her biceps and hers grab mine. We proceed to plant our strong legs as if to push each other backwards. Her grip tightens painfully on my arms and I squeeze back, feeling her muscles flex under my fingers as mine flex under hers. She has put muscle on, but only now under stress does it really show itself.

"All your muscles, not so powerful it seems." This beautiful black woman pants into my face and I find her breath to be hot, sweet and intoxicating. But infuriating all the same.

"Your going to get a reality check on my muscles very soon." Struggling as I am, I still manage to notice our chests swell to magnificent proportions, nipples straining. I couldn't resist and intentionally lean a step closer until my own erect nipples crush against hers. Monique moans and returns the pressure. Our foreheads touch as we mutually fall to our knees and wrap our arms around the other. My chin came to rest on her shoulder, with Monique's on mine, both of us gasping for air in an unusual way. Swaying together, breasts pressing tightly together, sometimes it seems like neither of us knows what direction to take this fight in.

It feels like a dream as our bodies fall to the side, again through mutual effort, our legs intertwining as we began to scissor each other. Monique began to flex hers, and I flex mine back. The seconds tick away slowly as the struggle focuses on leg against leg, or is it the tightness of our legs pressing against one another that is driving us? Both of us bathed in sweat and the feeling of hugging and flexing, rubbing together is intensely erotic. She arches her back and we roll over on the mat as we keep hugging from head to toe, her legs and mine swelling with muscle as she strains against mine. I could feel her flexing calf muscles rubbing and twitching with mine, and I had to wonder if in that moment, 'Are we even fighting one another?' I am baffled. Is this strange form of intimacy what we really wanted all along?

But we are not lovers, and I know Monique would keep finding new ways to torment me. And I become afraid of that thought, so I keep squeezing and grinding and flexing, trying to crush the very life out of her, and crush her fucking legs with mine. I bridge up my hips, and force her to roll over onto her back. She didn't like this and squirms to change her predicament. I then redouble my efforts and pour all of my strength into my aching and quivering body. Slowly and certainly I purely outmuscle Monique, forcing her body to bend to mine. When she tilts her head back, teeth gritting, she looks at me with a new expression, is it hatred or humiliation, or something else?

~~~~ Breaking Apart - First Blood ~~~~

She began fighting again, but this time for freedom, trying to push off from me and I wasn't sure why, but I want the same thing. Having this strong urge to get away, so many confusing feelings. So intense the heat coming off both our bodies, it was like a furnace between my legs, and I'd rather not think or feel those things now. 'What is wrong with me?'

A moments self-reflection is usually a mistake when competing, hesitating and getting lost in my emotions like that. As I am pushing to sit up, Monique lashes out with her foot, nailing me in the mouth, I am stunned. My head snaps back, my brain wobbles, and my body wobbles. I am falling backward. My opponent wastes no time, she is already moving to jump on me, but my instincts for revenge kick in and appropriately enough I launch a return up-kick, catching her in the mouth, sending her sprawling onto her back!

Eat that bitch!

My tongue can taste blood from where she busted my lip. Now I am bleeding?! For fucks sake! How insane is this going to get?

When we look across at one another there are no words, each of us sharing something akin to shock. My expression is one of emotional hurt and disgust at how nasty the fight is becoming. Monique tries to give me a split-second stare of disdain, but I also caught a hint of regret.

There is no official break called, but I took one anyway, she follows my lead or maybe it was mutual? Keeping a wary eye on her I simply scoot over by my bag and sit, reaching for my water bottle. Gently pressing the back of my hand to my throbbing lower lip and see a stain of blood when I pull it away. Why did it have to come down to this? Instead of anger, I feel sadness.

Is this match everything I thought it would be? Yes and No.

~~~~ Oiling up ~~~~

A casual glance, that is all it is, but I notice Monique is pulling out a tube of lotion and applying it to her knees and elbows from where the mats are rubbing hard against our skin. That is a good idea, only I had a much smaller tube, which I always carry with me. When I glance over again, and I am glad I did, I notice how she is starting to be very liberal with the application of the cream, further out, all around her knees, thighs, arms.

Now, all I need to do is connect the dots... Lotion...oil...slippery...harder for me to grab her? Is she really thinking that far ahead? It would offer some advantage for her.

Conspiracy theory or not, I turn away and begin squeezing every bit of my Nécessaire Body Lotion from my small tube. It is a little pricey but it is the best lotion out there, at least I love it. 'Shit' I curse privately. She has this big bottle and I am pinching this stupid little tube from the very bottom, and working every fucking ounce out of it. The white cream comes oozing out and I just go-for-broke...squirting it all over my legs. My fingers are literarily shaking as I squeeze the ever-fucking-life out of that tube. Very discreetly I try and rub it all over my thighs, shoulders, and breasts. Oh yes, my aching breasts and hard nipples, the lotion feels so exquisite and soothing. My tits are getting so sore and tender from the constant pressure and rubbing.

~~~~ Struggling ~~~~

We stand and turn around. Monique is already waiting and we come at one another. This is not a battle involving finesse, but one of pure strength and determination. Our hands grip forearms, biceps, and triceps as we gradually lean into each other until our generous tits brush, then press together. My chin was on her left shoulder, and her chin was on mine. Still we push, legs quivering and feet adjusting. The affects of the lotion are immediate, our fingers almost glide. The combined fragrance of our body lotions is exquisite. Dreamy! The seconds, maybe minutes, pass as our contest continues. Our fingers digging deep into each others muscles for some type of grip. She uses every inch of her height advantage for leverage and it does help her. Her body is rock solid, every muscle, tendon and sinew tenses in resistance to mine. Her skin feels so smooth and slippery now, it is extremely difficult to grab hold of her, and her me. This is getting interesting, to say the least.

Crushing deep between our breasts, I can feel my nipples press firmly against hers as if they are waging a battle of their own. My biceps aching and I knew they will be black-and-blue from the force of Monique's grip on them. But back to the way our breasts are pressing, is this the real central focus of the standoff now? We have been leaning against one another for minutes, and could not have planned it better if we tried. Our nipples are so hard from the constant pressure and the grinding. So sensitive, and are touching one another! I actually want to stay this way for as long as possible! My leg muscles, fully flexing, and I can already feel the soreness from our earlier contest, promises of pain to come tomorrow. I have to shift and adjust my stance, so does Monique and our nipples break contact. It was as if someone snapped their fingers and brought both of us out of a trance. Monique almost screams in determination to overpower me as she lifts her chin off my shoulder. I raise mine as well and our eyes now only a scant inch apart, glaring angrily and almost maniacally at each other. Now I scream as I strive to over power her and begin to push her back, but Monique dips down and slips her arms around my waste, pulling me into a hug, it was only too late that I realize she was pulling me into a bearhug. I moan as she arches her back and lifts me off my feet! My God, the power of this woman as she bends my body in her crushing hold.

I have to act and power my hands downward, like I am swimming, down in-between her arms and my body, breaking her hold and reach around to squeeze her in return. Now I am lifting her up! Feeling her body bend to my bearhug and she is moaning. More excitement! We do this to each other several times; she dives her arms down, grips me in a powerful bearhug again, leans back and my whole body arch's in pain, releasing my own moans of discomfort. Our slick bodies crush against one another. Panting desperately in each others faces as we fought arms and chests, trying to crush each another. This back-and-forth is expending so much energy, but my God, the effects are so powerfully sensual. This might have been the final moment of our entire war today. To keep exchanging holds until one of us could no longer take it, could no long continue, and finally submit. That is what I want!

But our feet slip. The sweat is all over the mat now and rather than fall over we drop to our knees while keeping our arms around each other. Our heads coming to rest cheek-to-cheek, our big breasts still crushing against one another. I still can't believe how equal our breasts are. They have stayed relatively steady against one another, neither showing signs of crushing the other. I definitely thought I had the firmer breasts.