MILK UDDERS, part 4

While the sun had almost disappeared in the mountainous horizon, the shadows lengthened around the young women. In slow, subtle struggle, Bianka kept pushing with her boobs and, beyond the fabric of the summer dresses, she began to feel in more detail what the brunette was actually bringing to the confrontation. It was painful to accept that that unexpected antagonist could easily boast of having firm, youthful breasts, and Bianka had already felt enough to know that what was pressed against her own twin globes were certainly other DDs. It was undeniable that being the only woman in the entire Brenner Pass able to flaunt two trophies as impressive as her large boobs had always been a source of pride for Bianka, so the arrival of that unknown female clearly threatened her dominant position in the entire border area.

“You…” the white-haired girl groaned, her cheeks reddened as she recognized that her idyllic, simple life on the dairy farm was suddenly shattering to pieces against the solid, copious breast flesh that that mysterious dark-haired, tan-skinned doppelgänger owned. “What’s your name?”

“Melania,” the neighbor said. “Melania Tantilatte.”

“I’m Bianka Lautermilch,” she anticipated.

“I don’t care,” Melania grunted, her heavy boobs thrusting against Bianka’s fat pair. “Just get out of my way.”

“Never,” Bianka grunted, her body remained in some kind of automatic mode that forced her to engage herself breast to breast with the other busty and petite beauty.

Bianka’s refusal to yield to her rival immediately escalated the confrontation. Melania began to thrust tighter against her, and the attractive milkmaid matched the game with identical determination. The first grunts of exertion were exhaled into the impending night, and the two she-dogs barked in response. Bianka gritted her teeth as she realized that her estimations of the firmness of the rival breasts had fallen short now that she felt them in harder contact, but at least she could take solace in the look of surprise on the stunning dark-eyed face of Melania, the other girl unquestionably as surprised as she was by the stiffness of the dueling flesh on both sides of the border.

“Pretty firm, huh?” In her 21 years of life, Bianka had never openly bragged about the consistency of her breasts as the evidence spoke for itself, but now she felt that a few words of smug reinforcement would not be out of place.

“Mine, you mean?” Melania replied, her tone of voice enveloped with feminine confidence. “I know, everyone keeps telling me that.”

“You were lied to,” Bianka said while she tried to reinforce her point with a large chest to large chest thrust. “Just because some horny drunk said that to hit on you doesn’t make it real.”

“What’s the matter, girl? Nobody says anything about yours?” The Italian beauty returned the breast shove as she looked down at the clash of cloth-covered flesh brazenly. “Men know yours not as firm and big as you thought, I guess.”

“Firmer and bigger than yours, that’s for sure.” Bianka’s paradisiacal and peaceful world continued to crumble around her with every word and action taken by the two busty women—she even did not recognize herself in that spiral of jealousy and hatred to which a few barks from Schnee had dragged her.

“There is no one, man or woman, who sees you and me together and really thinks that yours are firmer and bigger than mine,” the brunette groaned.

“You are feeling it for yourself, honey,” the blue-eyed female spat out. “Yours are against mine, so you can’t deny facts. Just admit it and maybe I’ll let you walk out of here in one piece.”

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Choosen by Pedro Roche. Words: 607 words.

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Pedro Roche, 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: LESSON PLAN, page 7 (Demba)