THE MILK UDDERS, part 23

Melania had barely been sitting in the white Renegade for half a minute, and her body was already almost trembling with a mixture of anxiety, hatred and fight-or-flight urgency. Beside her, Bianka was driving, but she was barely paying attention to the road, or to the beautiful green landscape of surrounding forests and mountains, as the two rivals’ gazes were locking together over and over again. The brunette felt her own hatred, arrogance and jealousy flowing through her dark eyes, and Bianka’s bluish stare looked determined to match each negative and derogatory feeling in equal measure. But deep within her white-haired rival’s dilated pupils was something else burning, something Melania felt her own as well, but was unable to read—was it a touch of lust? Impossible.

As Bianka turned the steering wheel left off the main road and onto the zigzagging path uphill to the abandoned station, Melania made up her mind that, once the Renegade’s engine stopped, once they both got out of the car and face each other without witnesses, what happened between her and the Austrian girl then would be decisive. Her first two breast contests with the other petite beauty had been interrupted and, therefore, they were frustratingly inconclusive and, as much as Melania told herself that she was better as a milkmaid or that she had the best and biggest boobs of the two of them, there was no unambiguous, unmistakable confirmation about it that she could hold against Bianka. Melania knew that was all about to change, but she was determined to be the one to get such validation for herself.

No matter what it takes, she thought resolutely, casting a cheeky glance at Bianka’s plump boobs. Under the soaked T-shirt, the attractive glands wobbled gently, sexily as the Renegade caught a small bump, but immediately settled back down on the chest, showing the Italian something she already knew all too well: how incredibly firm and solid those opposing twin virtues were despite their generous volume. Those dangerous breasts were the enemy to beat and, although Melania had already checked that it would be no easy task, she was confident that her incomparable bust, unbeatable in a flawless combination of size and density, would do the job in the end.

Staring at the hard protuberances pushing stiffly against the white fabric of Bianka’s shirt, Melania reminded herself that what was about to occur between the two busty young women wasn’t only going to be a matter of dense mass competing with dense mass, but also a milk issue. After all, the continuous threats about milking each other weren’t hollow, as both had proven, and in Melania’s mind that was still the main objective—an objective in which those long nipples that she noticed beyond the other shirt had the leading role. Bianka’s hard but sensitive rods had worked well as triggers to force the conceited bosoms of her nemesis to expel a mortifying amount of liquid humiliation, so it was clear to Melania that, if she wanted to prevail, she had to manipulate them until that white cow was dry of milk. What she still doubted was whether she would use again her hands to do it, or rather her own…

A dirty, brazen glance from Bianka at her big boobs silenced Melania’s line of thought, her thick nipples getting even stiffer under the other woman’s spiteful attention. The brunette needed no powers to read her white-haired enemy’s mind, for her blue eyes spoke with meridian clarity: Bianka was also visualizing the other nipples as keys to victory, and Melania couldn’t help but feel her body tremble knowing that she would soon have to put out all the fires that would erupt in her breasts because of the hitherto unknown weakness that forced her to spurt milk from her nipple holes when Bianka assaulted her glands, with finger or with…

“We are here,” Bianka announced, for the second time cutting off the intrusive thought that haunted Melania.

“Good,” the Italian could only say, her nerves almost closing her throat as her heart started to beat strongly under her chest.

The two petite and busty beauties got out of the white Renegade. Melania looked around, suddenly aware of where she was. Bianka had parked on one side of a modest road and, on the other side, surrounded by green and yellow vegetation, there was an old and elongated building, with two low side wings and a higher central body, which rose almost like a small tower of stone and wood, painted with graffiti and with a blue sign with golden lettering that still read Moncucco Schelleberg. There were no traces of rail tracks anywhere, so they must have been removed at the time, perhaps to replace them with the road. Looking a little further south, Melania noticed a second building, practically a small shed. Both constructions were in disrepair, and Melania couldn’t help but think cruelly of leaving Bianka in that same ramshackle condition once she was done with her.

“Nice place to get your ass kicked,” the Italian milkmaid said, looking beyond the old station to contemplate the succession of beautiful emerald valleys and scattered farms. A long highway cut through the breathtaking landscape like a wound of asphalt and concrete and, closer by, a bustling Brenner could be seen, whose fairground sounds reached the brunette’s ears. Melania knew it would be a perfect place for a sunset date, but it wasn’t the right time and she didn’t have the company she needed.

“Nice place to get your tits kicked,” Bianka replied with derision, circling her car to face Melania with her hands on her hips in defiance.

“Are you going to kick them?” the Italian mocked, imitating her rival’s smug posture. “Maybe that’s the only way you’ll stand a chance against them.”

“Oh, please don’t, it would be too easy. With just one kick or punch I’d have you squirting milk.” Bianka arrogantly played along. “If it was even too easy using only my fingers…”

“I’ve already proven that it’s too easy for me to milk you, so it’s hard for me to make this a real challenge.” Melania still had moments when it was hard to recognize herself amidst such egotism and boldness, but with Bianka around, she felt it natural. So she just went with the flow, and slipped in what had been on her mind for a while. “I milked you even with my own fat girls…”

“And I milked yours with mine!” the beauty from north of the border spat out a little too fiercely, as if that subject struck a chord. Her next words, however, were a more controlled hiss. “You have no idea know how much pleasure that gives me…”

“Not as much pleasure as it has given me as soon as I found out what mine did to yours,” the brunette almost whispered.

Only the gentle winds running softly on that hill above the town of Brenner spoke for the next few seconds, with the two rival milkmaids looking into each other’s eyes with gazes so intense that they could only be broken when they both looked down at the same time at the other large breasts. The milk seemed dry already on Bianka’s white shirt, but the perspiration kept the fabric wet. She herself was sweating, not so much from the heat of the day, but from anxiety, her black shirt clinging to her twin orbs in what Bianka had to find as insolent as she found the Austrian’s dense pair.

“What if…?” the white-haired, blue-eyed opponent started to say, but she had to visibly swallow saliva before continuing. “Why don’t you and I have a rematch of what we did the night we met?”

“Do you mean…?” With her gorgeous bosoms throbbing, Melania had to pull herself together for a moment. “You and me, tits to tits?”

“No hands,” Bianka continued, her voice suddenly as whispery as Melania’s, as if they were both sharing a secret despite being alone, with no one within half a kilometer of them. “Only what you have against what I have.”

Melania thought her heart was going to explode at any moment, but from the way Bianka’s breasts moved up and down on her torso with her rushed breathing, she sensed that she wasn’t the only one with tickets to take there and now that train of madness.

“Sounds perfect to me,” she muttered. “It was fun to squeeze yours like the udders they are, but it will be nothing compared to the joy I will feel when I milk you with my own tits, you white cow.”

“I’ll be the one doing the milking here, black cow,” the Austrian bragged. “Yours are neither firm nor strong enough to do the job, but mine…”

With a quick shake of her shoulders, Bianka jiggled her big breasts in front of Melania. The Italian’s dark eyes narrowed as she saw how much weight shifted under her white shirt, and it was then that she realized that there was a very, veryimportant change with respect to her first duel with her nemesis two nights before: there was one less layer of protection for each set of boobs, and it was precisely the most important of all.

“Without hands, you have lost your best weapons, white cow,” Melania said. “But without a bra, you don’t even have any defense anymore. Not against these destroyers,” she added, waving her own heavy globes haughtily.

“My full firmness is all I need to defend myself,” Bianka replied, her eyes casting a contemptuous glance that could not avoid a touch of jealousy over Melania’s heaving glands. “And the only weapon I need to overpower you is my size.”

“Pff, what a pitiful defense then,” the brunette scoffed. “And let’s not even talk about the fact that you don’t have enough size to go weapon to weapon against me.”

“You have a poor memory, black cow.” Bianka took a step forward, and Melania took hers, the hands of the beautiful girls leaving their hips to dangle over their sides like claws. “But I’m more than happy to make you remember what my tits feel like here and now. Then you’ll stop talking shit once and for all.”

“I am the one who is fed up with your lies about your tits and mine,” Melania exhaled. “So why don’t we do what we have to do and see who’s better endowed for real?”

“Yes, please,” the Austrian woman said.

Without further ado, Bianka licked her lips before starting to walk towards the main building of the old train station. Melania followed her, both milkmaids circling the crumbling structure on the left to hide behind it. The Italian found herself on a small plain of short grass, with the back of the building on one side and a downhill slope on the other. Further down, she could see the snaky road they had driven up, and some distant houses.

***

Words: 1831.