MEMORIES OF A SEXFIGHTER, part 1

September 10th, 1999

“I remember that night as if it were yesterday, even though it’s been more than twenty years. When I walked into the nightclub, there she was. I hadn’t seen Rosa in months and, confirming my worst fears, she looked prettier than ever, her fucking beautiful green eyes as always looking around like she was the damn queen bee. She got on my nerves from minute one, provoking me with such a posh, sexy look as she prowled like a predator around the guy I had seen first. But the moment she really got under my skin was when she told me not to get my hopes up, because he wanted her, not me. That was the instant I knew we were going to fight that night for the first time, many years later than we should have.” - Diana Bustos

***

A streak of lighting flashed across the dark night sky, briefly illuminated the entire city of Malaga in brilliant light. A clap of thunder boomed then in the distance, an echo of violence that accelerated the hearts of the two angry 18-year-old girls who, in that poorly lit alley, circled around each other. The rain fell on their beautiful make-up faces, mingling with emotionally driven tears, trails of mascara running down their cheeks. Black shirts, denim jeans were soaking wet, glued to bodies that, when they started to develop years ago, when they got firm boobs and wide hips, had drastically changed the way each young woman had been interacting with each other.

“I’m gonna shut that big mouth of yours once and for all.” The voice escaped between clenched teeth, full of long-held anger. “That’s what I should have done in high school when you started bullying me.”

“I wasn’t bullying you, just showing you where your place was.” The reply came in the form of a heated snarl, the red-painted lips twisting into a hateful sneer. “You thought you were better than me just because you got bigger tits than mine.”

“And you thought you were better than me because you had tits before I did, Rosa,” the first girl grunted.

“I became a woman before you, Diana, and that always pissed you off,” her rival replied in anger.

It was hard to believe, but those two women hadn’t always hated each other like that. In fact, Diana Bustos and Rosa Soler had been friends since the age of 6—not just friends, but besties. They had shared a desk in class, slept in each other’s house and played together on the beach. They had laughed with each other’s peculiar sense of humor, and whispered one to other secrets that only they knew.

That’s how it had been…until puberty. Rosa had first developed, her little girl’s body growing into a taller, curvier woman’s body before the eyes of Diana. Suddenly, the guys were paying more attention to Rosa, to her growing breasts and long legs, and she started to spend more time with them than with her friend. On the few occasions that they now met, Diana found Rosa treating her with condescension and an air of superiority, like having boobs made her better than her. A burning resentment began to germinate in Diana, irrigated by the jealousy she felt at the sight of Rosa’s attractive body—a body she didn’t yet have.

“What pissed me off was that you looked down your nose at me just because you had tits and ass,” Diana grunted as she walked in circles, hands like claws raised in front of her ex-friend, her soaked brown hair dropping beads of water onto her shoulders, breasts and back. “But guys looking at you then didn’t make you any better than me…as you could see a year later.”

Rosa exhaled a furious groan. Diana knew how much it bothered her to remember what had happened when it was her own body’s turn to develop. She had blossomed late into womanhood but, when she did, Diana became a beautifully curvy woman capable of stealing part of the attention that Rosa had been selfishly accumulating during the previous year. Diana had been especially proud—and she still was—that her boobs had grown bigger than Rosa’s breasts.

“Having guys drooling on your fat tits doesn’t make you any better than me either,” Rosa said under the rain, the thoughts of both girls traveling from past to present constantly, the roots of their enmity sinking their deep roots in their teenage years.

“You’ve always had it in for my tits. That’s why you surrounded yourself with that bunch of stupid girls to bully me.” Diana recalled the hard times Rosa’s gang gave her in high school. More tears came out of her eyes, Rosa’s gaze also flooding with tears as the accumulated tension was taking their toll on the feelings of the young women. “But now you’re alone, and you don’t look so tough anymore.”

“I don’t need anyone to kick your fucking ass,” Rosa said menacingly, brushing a strand of wet dark hair out her face. They’d been wanting to lock up with each other body-to-body for years, but none had dared to take the first step in that direction. That night, however, the wet air smelled of catfighting…because of some random guy in some random nightclub.

It was ridiculous, actually. Both of them had sailed in dangerous waters during high school years, always pushing the boundaries, day after day on the brink of grabbing each other’s hair—Rosa and her gang bullying Diana, Diana always talking bad about Rosa behind her back and, sometimes, right in her face. But nothing had happened. But now, after both beauties had finished their high school studies, after a summer where they celebrated their 18th birthday away from each other, they had met casually in a nightclub, hitting on the same man, and everything they’d been postponing for years had finally exploded.

“We should’ve done this long before,” Diana said, seeing as her rival step into the flickering light of a wall street lamp. Rosa’s face had always been stunning, but the brown-haired girl had to admit to her regret that tonight the other brunette looked incredible, even in spite of the tears and the running mascara. Her devastatingly hypnotizing light green eyes were as feline and defiant as ever, her long eyelashes giving her a top model look that Diana had always detested and envied. In contrast, Diana had big, honest eyes, seductive brown pearls capable of melting men’s hearts or, as was happening now, to cast hatred without mercy.

“I would have fought with you any day, any night, if you had dared to challenge me,” Rosa hissed, her red-painted fleshy mouth twisting with contempt. A few steps away, Diana’s heart-shaped lips also glowed red under the lights and rain.

“Well, here’s my challenge,” Diana grunted, raising her hands in a ‘bring it on’ gesture. “Let’s settle this once and for all right here, right now, bitch.”

It was the first time one of them had spit the b-word in the other’s face, and it seemed that Rosa felt that as a slap in the face. Her cheeks turned red, the long-contained fury about to be released.

“You…fucking…dirty…bitch!”

It finally started, many years late. The storm seemed to feed on the feelings of the girls, the dark clouds opening up as the rain started to fall harder, the low-heeled shoes stepping on the puddles as the two young brunette beauties ran into each other, all envy and hatred at last reaching its physical culmination.

They had visualized that moment so many times in their heads, in their dreams, that both knew what they were going to do. Diana and Rosa threw their fists at each other, looking to damage that facial beauty that had caused them so much pain and anguish, so much insecurity and envy in their teenager years. So when the knuckles hit the other face, the women groaned in pain, but also in pleasure—they barely struck the other left cheek with a clumsy rookie punch, but it felt really good. Feeling the adrenaline, the excitement and the fear, Diana and Rosa pounded now with their left fists, anxious to feel again what it was like to punch the flesh of the person that they hated the most in the whole world.

That time, Rosa’s fist was faster. Her knuckles hit the side of Diana’s chin, forcing a grunt of pain from her and making her fail her blow, her punch only connected with the other’s shoulder. The rain raged on, Diana staggering backwards, her chin throbbing as Rosa followed her with killer instinct in her green eyes.

“Bitch!” Diana insulted again, throwing a desperate punch. A strong right hit Rosa on her cheek, and now it was the raven-haired female’s turn to moan and retreat, now it was Diana’s turn to take advantage and try to finish the fight.

“Youbitch!” Rosa snarled, throwing a defensive punch while Diana tried to stroke her face again. In the rain, their arms clashed together, making them miss their punches. The momentum, however, brought their gorgeous bodies together in a weak, wet embrace. Staggering down the alley, the hearts of the 18-year-old girls beat heavily, their bodies for the first time feeling the woman’s curves of the other—the curves they’d been watching and envying for years. Diana couldn’t help but groan softly as she felt the firm softness of Rosa’s breasts against hers, the smaller pair distracting her from the fight for a few seconds that the other woman used to corner her against an alley wall.

“You shouldn’t have tried to cunt-block me tonight, Diana!” Rosa grabbed her rival’s hair with one hand as she balled the other one into one fist that hit Diana’s ribs in a short but painful blow. Both beauties were so close together that the tremor that ran through Diana’s body jumped into Rosa’s body, their breasts crushed together shaking against each other in that close combat.

“Stay away from the men I want, Rosa!” Diana took revenge with a rabid punch, then another, to her foe’s ribs while her left hand pulled Rosa’s hair. Moaning in tears, Rosa was forced to retreat as both girls lacerated the other scalp and exchanged two or three more weak punches in the ribs until the closeness of their bodies practically forced them to hug each other tightly, as if somehow they unconsciously wanted to measure how good the body with which they had been comparing themselves to for so many years really was.

At that moment, with the storm roaring over their heads, with the downpour soaking the bodies that squeezed each other with strength and hatred, it was more than obvious how differently their physiques had developed, the two young women being examples of distinct but equally attractive standards of beauty. Diana was a curvaceous, well-proportioned beauty, a natural girl-next-door kind of woman; Rosa, for her part, was the model type, tall, slim and fit, posh in dress and makeup lover. Those differences fueled that female illness called insecurity, that which even two hotties like them suffered in the depths of their hearts. Diana and Rosa had always been jealous of what the other had and they didn’t: Diana’s full C-cup bosoms made Rosa feel that her littler B-cup boobs were a small thing, while Rosa’s long legs had always intimidated Diana, Rosa standing five centimeters above Diana’s one-sixty-five body. The brown-haired beauty always worked out at home to get a belly as toned as Rosa’s, and the brunette did the same to get an ass as strong as her rival’s. Diana wanted to have Rosa’s exotic green eyes, and Rosa wanted to have been born with that beautiful heart-shaped mouth of Diana.