When Bffs Battle

They weren't neighbors as children, scurrying to each others houses to ask if the other could come out and play. They weren't friends in junior high, or high school, in fact during that time, they didn't even live in the same state or timezone. No, it took until their first year, or more narrowly, their 3rd day at Kentucky University for Heather and Michelle to meet.

They had each been studying, the cover of Cosmo not their chemistry text book, under the shade of a large leafy tree, one that seemed at odds with the painfully overly modern buildings that littered the KU Campus. There, as they each sat, a conversation between the two began. A conversation about nothing of note or substance, but one that carried them nonetheless to becoming each others closest friends - 'BFF' with hearts, they labeled each other in their phones.

In a manner befitting such prestigious titles, they went together to movies; bars; line dancing; parties; bull-riding; and every other activity that could be done in a state like Kentucky. They were inseparable, truly. So much so, that they together came to the conclusion, wise or not, that if they were always bouncing from one's dorm room to the other's, why shouldn't they just rent a place off campus together? After all, they figured, such a move would help them save time, help them study together more easily, and would allow each of them to enjoy each others company, without break or barrier.

With such motivations the two set off and found a small apartment above a busy little restaurant on Cheapside Avenue, in Lexington. It was a single bedroom, which seemed like an issue at first, but when they found they could afford no bigger and no better, they decided to just pull the trigger, and sign the lease. What could be so bad about sharing a bed with your best friend, they thought, as each pressed an overly inky pen to paper. But even as they signed, they knew, that meager though the apartment was, it was not one they could actually afford. But, as Scarlett O'Hara used to say, they'd 'worry about that tomorrow'.

But, as they oft do, tomorrow came, and when it did, the two needed to find an answer to the gnawing question of how they would cure their lack of funds. To each of them the solution came in a blink: they would get part-time jobs, and together that way, make up the difference of the added expense that came with their BFF flat. Such a search was quick, and required them only to walk downstairs, as each found jobs waiting for them at the restaurant beneath their apartment, The Cheapside Bar & Grill.

One paycheck after another came home with them, as the weeks passed, and though they could pay the rent and utilities, their apartment was left near empty. In fact, their furniture consisted of electricity cord spools for tables, milk crates for seats, wood pallet bookshelves, and whatever other cheap-to-free ideas they could find on Pinterest. But eventually, even in their excitement for having found a way to spend more time with each other, Heather and Michelle grew tired of living so penniless.

Just as before, the solution was simple: work more, study less, get less sleep. As before, their solution worked, for a time, leaving each tired: yes, but more comfortable, as their apartment began to fill with furniture they loved and decor that spoke to them as like-minded girls. But with the comfort of furniture, came a desire for better food, and nicer clothes - new cell phones, and a car that they could share to get around Lexington's strange mix of forced rural areas, and almost unwanted urban centers. Such desires they fought off for awhile, dealing with what little they had, but eventually, they were each overcome, deciding in their wisdom, to take a year off from the university to save up money and improve their lot in life.

Work then consumed them, as each found a second job, while working longer hours at each. Eventually, not only one semester had passed but two, and the girls found that nearly 14 hours of their everyday were being spent playing the role of waitress, at restaurants across town. To add to their fatigue, they had together made the commitment to go to the gym after their back-to-back shifts, leaving them near dead when they reached home, each night at around 8:00 PM.

Such a simultaneous arrival at home was intentional, as each wanted to carve out that time for each other. After all, that was why they rented the apartment in the first case - to spend more time together. But as day turned to night and back again - as weeks turned to months, and then months to years, such moments with each other became less and less desirable, as bitterness began to seep into their hearts. Bitterness over anything and everything, but driven and stoked by the fact that each blamed the other for their mutual decision to drop out of college. It was on one particular night, that all said tensions flared, and the title of BFF was truly put to the test.

It was a night like every other they had been living for more than 700 days: work, work, work, work, gym, home. But home, felt like hell, as it was filthy, disorganized, and littered with the signs of the others failings as a roommate. For so very long each muzzled their complaints, and tried to ignore what irked them - what drove them absolutely insane about the other. But finally, after having worked themselves to the point of utter and complete exhaustion, then after traveling past that point by miles, that finally, Heather let loose what was on her mind.

"Uh, I thought you were going to do the dishes last night?" Heather asked from the living room attached kitchen, in a voice clothed and carried by a barely restrained rage.

"I was going to, and then I noticed that they were all YOURS, so..." A short explanation, but one that made clear that Michelle would not be apologizing, it having been spoken from the couch.

"It doesn't matter whose dishes they were, it was YOUR job to do them, Michelle." As she spoke, Heather turned from the sink which was overflowing with dishes, and began to lean on the counter nearest her roommate: "And, half of those are yours! I don't remember eating Coco Puffs, or Ramen - and these forks that are covered in FUNGUS NOW, are yours from a week ago!" Emphatically, did the brunette speak, her outfit the exact same as Michelle's, a bright blue Kentucky University hoodie, with form fitting black leggings, and gray socks, they both having just come home from the gym.

"If you want them done that badly, do them your fucking self! I'm tired, my body hurts, and I am not getting off this couch." Having made her stance known, Michelle tried to pretend that she was listening to the news she had on the TV, turning it up, despite their ongoing conversation.

"Oh no, you're going to get up and do these dishes, right goddamn now. I don't care how tired you are, I am tired too!" Demanded Heather, as her hands raised up off the counter and began to ball, though not intentionally so. "And I just ... I can't live like this..." The brunette's voice frayed at her last speaking, her eyes closing as she suddenly realized how much she hated her life with Michelle.

"Oooh, I can't live like this! I can't live like this!" Mocked Michelle in copy, as she hit the power button the TV remote, and burst to a stand. "I can't live like this either! Your dirty clothes are everywhere! You're wearing my new leggings, so I had to wear these dirty ones! Keep in mind, they're dirty because your fucking cat pees on everything in the house. By the way, did you even ask if you could borrow those? No!" As Michelle voice turned from speaking to yelling, she began to step towards the kitchen. "I'm more exhausted than I have ever been in my life, and I've felt that way for so long I can't remember, and it's all because you wanted a fucking cell phone. So, PLEASE shut the fuck up."

"Me!?" Heather's face began to contort with outrage, and her body began to shake. "You're the fucking bitch who came up with the idea of us dropping out of UK, because you were tired of taking the bus and wanted a pretty little car. And if I recall, you owe me a pair of leggings, since you tore mine at the gym. Maybe if you didn't eat so much goddamn food, they wouldn't have ripped, and you wouldn't have so many dishes to clean!" Heather spat in insult of Michelle's weight, though the two girls' bodies could not have been more similar. Each standing about 5'2, weighing about 155 lbs, with most of that weight reserved for their breasts, asses, and thighs, making them thick girls without a doubt, but ones whose bodies were as curvy and sexy as nature allows.

At the comment, Michelle stood, mouth open, shocked at what her 'BFF' had said. "Did you just call me fat?" The strawberry blonde sought to clarify, though she knew the answer.

"I didn't call you thin, that's for fucking sure." Heather's clarification, did nothing to solve the tension which had become so thick, it could only be cut with a chainsaw.

"That's it! I'm DONE!" Michelle shouted, as she turned and began to look around the apartment, under both chairs and tables.

"What are you looking for?" Heather asked, worried about what Michelle's response might be.

"I'm looking for your stupid fucking cat, I'm going to throw him out the window." Driven past the point of anger, Michelle answered with a sentence which sounded like humor given its absurdity, but could not have been any more serious.

"NO YOU'RE FUCKING NOT!" Heather shouted in absolute disbelief, as she burst into as best a sprint as she could muster out of the kitchen, only slowing when she came within a foot of Michelle's bent over back. It was then that the brunette reached out, and grabbed the leaning blonde by the shoulders and pulled her upright, so her search for the cat would stop.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" At Heather's very touch, Michelle yelled, before turning, and grabbing her BFF by both wrists. Then and there between couches which had been organized in a L-shape, did the two friends begin to fight for control of the others arms, their limbs moving up and down, back and forth, each pair almost seeming to move at random.

For the first few seconds after engagement, they moved quickly and forcefully, but then it hit them, like a truck, their states of complete physical exhaustion. 14 hours of waitressing, and then 2 hours at the gym, for more days than they can even recall, had left them shells of their normal strength and energy. The thought crept into their mind of stopping, of releasing each other, so they could rest and begin this some other day when they weren't near dead, but no. NO! This wasn't some sort of planned settlement of an issue in specific. This was war. This was a fire that had been smoldering for months on end. Each letting their anger fester and grow. Stoked every night as they tried to fall asleep in the same bed as their 'BFF' stole their blankets and pillows, every morning as one took too long in the bathroom, and every evening when they would get home from work to a filthy apartment. And so, they continued their struggle.

With aching legs giving way, and arms they could barely lift, the blonde and brunette began to stumble. Perhaps at full strength and energy, they could have kept their balance, but as their E cup breasts pressed into and then bounced off of each other, they soon found themselves crashing onto the long couch which sat behind Michelle. In their short fall, Michelle landed on cushion, and Heather landed atop her in a sitting straddle. Their battle of hands and arms having become useless, Michelle released Heather's wrists, and went to push her off, though in her state, the force used was weak at best. The brunette for her part, grabbed at the back of the blonde's head and pulled her forward, as to bury her face between hoodie-covered tits.

Michelle prepared herself to panic, her mouth and nose caught between breasts of such a large size, but found quickly that the hoodie worn by her BFF, and the lack of strength of the same, left her able to breathe. Still, wanting to escape, however, the blonde gave up on her pushing, and instead reached her two hands up, and began to gouge them into the brunette's eyes. The effect was immediate, as to escape, Heather began to lean backwards, the dead weight of their two fatigued bodies causing them to together collapse to the dirty carpeted floor.

This time, it was Michelle who landed on top of her opponent in a straddle. Despite having landed in such a seemingly advantageous position, Michelle held her seat too low, and too bent over, a fact Heather quickly took advantage of. She capitalizing by grabbing at the top of Michelle's bright blue hoodie, and pulling it up over her head, just far enough for it to cover the blonde's eyes, and to catch her arms halfway out, and halfway in. With her roommate having been trapped within her hoodie, Heather began to throw slow punches into Michelle's exposed stomach. It only took two to cause the exhausted blonde to keel over on top of her BFF with a loud groan.

Not wanting to be stuck underneath Michelle, so close to her giant bra-less tits, which had begun to hang out of the bottom of her half-off hoodie, Heather began to buck her hips and bridge upwards with her body. And though mustering the effort required was brutally hard, eventually, as she continued to throw slow, thudding punches, then into the side of Michelle's abdomen, Heather pushed her BFF off of her, causing her to roll off to the side.

The brunette then went to move fast, to capitalize on her momentary victory, but found herself so slow that she was only able to rise up to all fours by the time Michelle had stirred, rose to her knees, and pulled her hoodie fully off of her body. Having done so, the blonde, with a wild grab, gripped the top of Heather's hoodie, and began to pull it off, stopping midway, as was done to her. Then, with the brunette trapped inside of the sweatshirt's blue contours, Michelle bent over her opponent's back, with her large tits pressing into flesh right past the last threads of the half-removed hoodie. Once atop her opponent, the blonde wrapped her arms around Heather's abdomen, and then began to throw, or more push, a lazy knee forward, ramming it with a slow but heavy force into the soft place where Heather's neck met her shoulder. The first blow was followed by a second, and at the third, the brunette collapsed from her position on all fours down to the carpet, face down.

As Heather collapsed with her head between Michelle's legs, the latter went with her, she not possessing the strength to either keep the brunette from dropping, or to keep herself from following with her hold still in place. There, in a heap, they laid, blonde on top, brunette on bottom - Michelle topless, and Heather close to the same.

"I hate you..." Michelle said breathlessly, as she lifted herself up off of Heather by only a matter of inches, before letting herself crash back down on top of the same, causing a sudden 'oomph' to escape her lips.

"I hat ... " Heather began in response, her voice muffled by Michelle's leggings-covered thighs which surrounded her head, and the carpet her face dug into. But as soon as her words had begun, the blonde again lifted herself up, and let herself fall back down, knocking the wind out of Heather, leaving her only to moan in pain.

Then, both went silent and still, one on top of the other, almost as if even in their brief battle, they had expended all of the energy that they had left. But, after seconds of inaction had turned to minutes, finally Michelle began to raise herself up again, once more intending to drop down on her opponent, smashing her into the floor. But as she lifted up, Heather mustered the strength to try and pull herself out from underneath her opponent. In reaction, Michelle tried to squeeze her thighs together, to catch and hold Heather's withdrawing head. Too slow the blonde was however, leaving her to instead catch only the hood of her opponent's sweatshirt, thereby pulling it off of her as Heather pulled herself free and into a kneeling position.

Kneeling in front of each other topless, with their hands on their knees to keep upright, with each aching from head to toe, and dizzy from fatigue, they stared into each others eyes. They could stop, and call a truce. Talk it out. Let it breathe. But just as each contemplated such a ceasefire, Heather's cat let loose a purposeless mew from their bedroom, which caused Michelle's eyes to go wide, and Heather to attack in defense of her poor cat. And so they engaged again, their hands reaching out and meeting, their fingers lacing together, and their giant, and their now free natural E cup breasts smashing together, each matched up pair spilling out to either side of their bodies.

In each others grasp they again pushed hard at first, each with their arms lifted into the air, then to their sides, and then back again. Palm pressing against palm, they took their turns forcing their opponent to lean back, before they in turn gave way to the same. But with every passing moment of such struggle they weakened and slowed, they having already exhausted their energy reserves before the month started, and before today even began - before they even reached their first shift, let alone their second, and then the gym - before their foolish fight began. And so, spent beyond words, their arms slowly drifted downwards, until their still finger-laced hands came to a soft rest next to their leggings covered thighs. In that way they still pressed into each other, both tit-to-tit and palm-to-palm, but barely. In fact, each leaned against each other more for support than offense, their hands clinging together more to keep the other from pulling their's free, then to test strength or endurance.

"I'm gonna ..." Michelle got out before tiring, only finishing her sentence when she had brought her head down to rest on Heather's shoulder and yawned. "... ki-kill your fucking cat, bitch..."

"I'll kill you first, cunt..." Heather spat back, as she too brought her head down for a rest on her opponent's shoulder, Michelle's having been caught and replicated by she.

As each girl finished their spiteful promises, they began to push into one another with renewed vigor, doing so hard enough for their tits to begin to ache.

"Owe", Michelle exclaimed!

"Aaggh", Heather's voice soon followed.

The sound of their BFF's pain drove each to press harder, and then harder still, until they two together began to try and stand. And though their calves, ass, and thighs ached from the effort, after a slow climb, they both made it, their hands still hanging with fingers laced to their sides, and their breasts still mashed together.

Once the two were on their feet, Heather began to push with her legs, driving Michelle back, until her lower back slammed into the top of the kitchen countertop. With a sudden cry, the blonde gave way, let loose Heather's fingers, and began to collapse downward, back to the floor. With shaking arms, the brunette then caught the blonde with a tight grip with both arms around the lowest part of her back, a bear hug in which the former's forearms coming to a rest just on top of the latter's ass. Once in her grasp, and after a moment spent assembling her strength, Heather lifted Michelle up, and placed her on top of one of the spinning stools that sat next to the kitchen counter.

With Michelle so seated, and no longer falling, Heather squeezed, tighter and tighter, trying to drain the the will to fight out of her opponent. In reaction, the blonde began to groan as her hands sought to pry the brunette's arms away from her body. Feeble, Michelle's attempts were, but even they began to threaten Heather's weakened grasp, causing her too to groan, more from effort than pain.

Despite their battle, the hold began to take its toll, and Michelle could do not else but lean over Heather's shoulder, which found itself nestled into the blonde's stomach. Deeper and deeper her opponent's bear hug drove Michelle into oblivion, until finally, when she was only seconds away from passing out, she made one last desperate gambit to escape. Doing so by rocking her stool back and then forward - back and then forward, until forward it went and did not return, sending both her body and the stool crashing down on top of Heather.