MILK UDDERS, part 5

The implied threat of violence surprised even Bianka herself. In front of her, Melania twisted her face, and then the sun fell behind the mountains. Suddenly, there was only darkness, and the sound of two agitated breaths. The Italian had stopped pushing against her, and the Austrian accepted the truce—that it would not be long-lasting, it was undeniably.

“Do you want to fight me, Bianka?” The whisper that came out of the blackness was so cold that the night itself suddenly seemed chillier.

“Do you want to do it, Melania?” the milkmaid returned the question, her fair eyes adjusting to the dim of the Alpine night. In the firmament, the stars and the moon were still faint, and they would need a few more minutes to risk some more light on the contending women but, at close range, Bianka could already begin to discern Melania’s dark eyes and tight lips.

“Yes…” Melania hissed like a snake. “I do want to…”

Bianka felt fingers plunging slowly into her white hair on the left, then others grasping the long strands on the right. With her heart racing, she herself grabbed the dark hair of her Italian rival with both hands—carefully, for she knew that any little tug would set the whole thing off.

“This is the first time I want to fight with someone,” Bianka confessed. “But you’ve really asked for it, Melania.”

“I’m your first fight, huh?” the brunette murmured. “Well, you’re my first too.” The milkmaid felt the fingers of the other beauty twist a little in her hair. “But that’s what you’ve been looking for since you put your tits against mine.”

“What’s wrong? Can’t you take it?” Defiantly, Bianka lowered her gaze to where both pairs of boobs were touching. Beyond the darkness, her eyes barely distinguished where the fabric of the dresses ended and where the firm breast flesh began, but she was almost certain that the necklines had been pulled down a bit in the struggle, exposing more of both generous cleavages.

“I can take what you have…easily,” Melania mumbled, and Bianka’s whole body stiffened as she felt the brunette tensing up against her, ready to attack.

What followed was not hair pulling, nor a slap across the fair-skinned face of the Austrian woman. There were no punches or kicks, no scratches or bites, but that did not mean an absence of aggression. Using the grip on Bianka’s white mane, Melania pushed against her with a momentum that hadn’t been there before and, before the milkmaid could react, the Italian’s plump breasts pressed against her own harshly. How Bianka didn’t take a single step back from the unexpected assault was beyond her comprehension, but the difference in distress between the double growl that erupted from the young women’s throats clearly showed who had taken the worst of the impact.

“It looks like you’re the one who can’t take it, Bianka,” Melania mocked, keeping the compression between thick busts. “Hurts already?”

“It doesn’t hurt at all,” Bianka replied. Without a second thought, she clenched her fists inside her challenger’s black hair and pushed forward. Both petite beauties moaned again, but it was the milkmaid who that time heard the more painful grunt on the other side. “But it hurts you, doesn’t it?”

“You wish, sweetheart,” the Italian said. “You wish.”

Bianka felt Melania’s fingers tangle more firmly in her white hair, so that time she could anticipate the attack. Both border rivals squashed their DD-cup breasts a little closer together, and the grunt they both exhaled at the same time was lost in the night.

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Choosen by Pizzaline07. Words: 600 words.

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Pizzaline07, you can choose from which text story you want the next part: from this story or from another one, and I'll put you in the queue.

Those of you who have not yet chosen which story/s you want, let me know so I can put you in the corresponding queue.

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TOMORROW: Week Schedule: October 24-30