Blondes & Brunettes - Friends ForNever?

The rivalry between blondes and brunettes has been a longstanding trope in popular culture, perpetuating stereotypes and igniting debates among both men and women. Throughout history, Western societies have often equated blonde hair with beauty, purity, and femininity, while depicting brunettes as more exotic, mysterious, or even sinister. Such ingrained notions have resulted in competition and jealousy between these two hair color groups. The resulting arrogance or distancing from certain behaviors can lead to downright mutual antipathy. Especially if it is based on a sexual foundation. Because of course this rivalry does not stop at bisexual and lesbian women.

The story of how I became a sexfighter

My fascination with sexual combat dates back to my late teens. But for a long time it never went beyond the occasional evening spent watching videos on pertinent websites. In any case, it took quite a long time until I was able to fully express my lesbian sexuality. In 2017, at the age of 22, I went to the University of California in Los Angeles for a semester abroad for six months. I wanted to use this time to have new, unique experiences. But what happened to me was not something I could have expected in advance. Let's put it this way, studying very quickly became irrelevant.

At the time, I lived in a student dormitory and shared an apartment with a roommate for seven months. She is one of the friendliest people I've ever met and she gave me a warm welcome. A few weeks later, three friends visited her one evening. When I asked about the reason for their meeting, they told me that one of them had a fight against another girl the next day and they wanted to discuss her approach together. Naive as I was at the time, I assumed she was a kickboxer or maybe a wrestler. Amused, they then tried to explain to me that this was a martial art of a slightly different, sensual kind. You could see their surprise when I revealed that I was familiar with the concept of sexfighting, even though I had never participated in one myself. However, I previously thought it was unrealistic that there were women who actually pursued this as a hobby. As a result, my roommate and her friends didn’t hesitate to invite me to their next "larger meeting".

This meeting was supposed to take place a few days later, but my roommate didn't want to tell me any more details. She only instructed me to dress as sexy as possible and to get tested for STD's first. Around seven o'clock in the evening we went together to an apartment near campus. The organizer, a fellow student of my roommate, let us in and a living room with around thirty women sitting close together opened up in front of me. They were all dressed provocatively and I noticed that they were eyeing me up and down skeptically. I was then welcomed to the "Kimber Club". It was introduced to me as a safe space where women could indulge in the art of tribadic competition far from prying eyes. I was told that the club was founded in the early 2010s by a student named Kimberly, hence the name. Here, tribfighting tactics could be exchanged, sexfight videos were watched and analyzed, and philosophical debates were held about the significance of sexfighting for feminism and the female self-image. Last but not least, a main purpose of these meetings was that the girls could challenge each other to duels. When asked if I wanted to join, there was only one answer. However, there was one requirement: I had to prove my skills. I was supposed to compete against a relatively new club member pussy to pussy. If I managed to defeat her or at least let her testify to my skills, I was allowed to join. I was incredibly nervous, but I didn't want to miss this opportunity under any circumstances.

The organizer led us both into a bedroom and my opponent locked the door behind us. Now we were all to ourselves. I tried to hide my tension and appear unfazed, but she had already seen through me. After all, I had only tried tribbing/scissoring once or twice in my life before, not as a fight, but as a mere sexual position, and I knew that I could experience intense orgasms from it. She assured me that everyone felt the same way I did at first, but that the nervousness would disappear in the heat of the first battle. Slowly, we both began to undress, peeling away clothing until we stood naked before each other. My eyes traveled over her curves, admiring her fit figure. But I really didn't have to hide anything either. With a sudden rush of confidence, I locked eyes with her and smashed my breasts with hers. Our bodies pressed together, skin to skin, as we engaged in a passionate struggle against climax. As the clit-to-clit battle intensified, my nervousness transformed into a fiery determination. I wanted to win at all costs. But suppressing the seemingly unstoppable orgasm proved more than just challenging. Luckily for me, my opponent also had obvious problems controlling her arousal about our wet pussies sliding over each other. A few seconds before I would have surrendered to the devastating ecstasy, my sexual rival's moans became faster and faster until she finally fell down and her pussy had to give in to mine. A few blinks of an eye later I came as well. Incredible. I had actually won my first ever sexfight. My opponent on the battlefield of pleasure congratulated me and complimented my skills.

Exhausted, we put our clothes back on and walked hand in hand back to the living room. We had compared our womanhoods and felt enthusiastic. Because I had proven myself to be a worthy tribfighter, I was accepted into the Kimber Club. Apparently, all this got some girls' blood boiling and one of them challenged another to a duel the following weekend. She accepted and they both stood up, met in the middle of the room and stood body to body face to face without saying a word for a few minutes. The whole living room was electrified and many girls got wet as the rivals stared each other down and heated up for the pussyfight. This and what I was able to experience in the following months shaped me like hardly anything else. It made me realize that the community of sexfighters is larger than you might expect. I was able to test and expand my skills in tribadic competitions of all kinds. I've clit-dueled some of the sexiest women I've ever had the pleasure of meeting. I experienced victories and defeats of the highest possible intensity. I got to be a part of something that few women on this planet will ever have in common with me. A year later, back in Germany, I met Nina, the love of my life. Today, six years later, we are married and at the same time sexual arch rivals as we regularly compare our pussies and clits. I live my dream! At best, this will also inspire many of you girls to follow your dreams and fantasies, because that's the only way we can experience true fulfillment.

Big Ass Bitch

Stacy's (brunette) heart pounded in her chest as she stood in the dimly lit women's restroom, surrounded by the bass-thumping music that reverberated from the club outside. Her heated gaze locked with that of big ass bitch Trish (black-haired), the self-proclaimed queen of the dance floor. They had clashed earlier, their bodies moving with synchronized aggression, a tantalizing blend of sensuality and rivalry. But this was different. This was something more primal – a sexfight was brewing. Pushing past the throngs of women, Stacy had issued the challenge, her voice unwavering. Trish's lips curled into a wicked smirk, accepting the proposition with a dangerous glint in her eyes. They grabbed and squeezed each other's tits so that all the other women in the restroom could see what was going on. After the first girl called out "Uh-oh, two sluts looking for a pussyfight...", the others joined in and cheered Stacy and Trish on to find a place to fight.

The challenge was now unfolding in Trish's bedroom, a battleground chosen by the big ass bitch herself. Her hips swayed with a hypnotic grace, her every movement designed to arouse and intimidate. "Ready to see what a real woman can do?" Trish's voice dripped with arrogance. Stacy's eyes narrowed, her voice laced with determination. "I'm not afraid of you. I'll take you down.". Their eyes locked in a fiery contest of wills, a silent challenge echoing with the promise of unbridled passion and unrestrained competition. As their naked bodies drew closer, the air crackled with a volatile energy, setting the stage for a sexual showdown that would surpass all expectations, where every moan and gasp would be a battle cry. The women's worlds were about to collide in a clash of bodies and desires.

As Trish moved to close the distance between them, Stacy lunged forward, grabbing Trish by the waist and pinning her against the wall. Their bodies pressed together, and a wave of lust surged through both of them. Trish resisted, trying to overpower her, but Stacy's doggedness fueled her strength. Their struggle intensified as they crashed onto the bed, their movements becoming more tribadic, stimulated by the rivers of arousal that ran between their legs. Moans and screams filled the room, a chaotic symphony of pleasure and pain. Hours passed in an explosive contest of pussies and clits. The room was a battlefield, bodies covered in sweat and scattered clothing. But after orgasm after orgasm was exchanged and their cunts had given each other a good beating, they had to admit that they had underestimated one another. As they lay on their backs, still tribbing the fuck out of each other, they couldn't help but feel a newfound respect for their respective rival. The duel, which was hardly credibly winnable for either of the two warring women, culminated in a final, overwhelming, simultaneous climax, which brought the night to a worthy end. But one thing was set in stone: They'll meet yet again!

You're on!

Their laughter echoed softly across the company's hallways as Maiara (black-haired) and Selma (blonde) exchanged stories from their legendary days as sexfighters. Years had passed since then, and the memories seemed both distant and eternal, hauntingly real within the cold confines of the conference room. Maiara spoke first, sharing tales of conquest and dominance over those too weak to resist her sex. Her voice was rich with pride, yet also laced with hints of melancholy.

- "Back then," she continued, "no girl could outfuck us."

- "Oh, you know," Selma replied, "we were young and athletic back then. But we were truly unmatched."

- "Our bodies may have aged, but there's no doubt that we've still got it!"

- "Is that so? So you think you could take on the new generation of sexfighters?"

- "With ease. These young brats can't compete with my clit-to-clit experience."

- "Interesting. Let's make this a bet. From what I know, my secretary Kaitlynn is an amateur sexfighter with a promising future. If you beat her, you've proven your strength and I'll pay for your dinner."

- "This is a bet to my taste. Let's shake on it! Your little blonde should show me what she has to offer."

A chill ran down Kaitlynn's spine when she heard the word 'sexfight'. But she knew it would serve as excellent training and possibly lead to career advancement opportunities. As the afternoon sun streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow upon the boardroom table, Maiara and Kaitlynn prepared themselves for the imminent clash. Both women, pussies ready, stood side by side, surveying each other silently before beginning their battle. Taking note of her rival's every movement, Maiara recognized that despite being new to this domain, Kaitlynn possessed talent that could become a formidable weapon in the upcoming contest. They slowly began to slide their slippery pussies over one another, teasing the edges of arousal without rushing toward climax. After a small eternity of testing each other out, a wild match suddenly broke out. They rammed their clits together so that Selma could clearly hear the wet smacking of their strifing cunts, which excited her as well. Maiara tried to unsettle her opponent verbally, but strong-willed Kaitlynn didn't let herself get worked up. But after an epic duel that truly earned the title of 'pussyfight', Kaitlynn found herself in the tricky position of their clits literally sticking together. With quick hip movements, Maiara caused vibrations that made Kaitlynn's glass of arousal overflow.

Sweaty and breathing heavily, they separated their soaking wet crotches from each other. Selma was thrilled by this spectacle. As they dressed again, one could tell that Kaitlynn found this orgasmic defeat humiliating. She didn't say a word about it and instead went back to her secretarial duties. Maiara, on the other hand, was full of joy and sat down next to Selma again, knowing that she had won the bet and demonstrated her tribadic skills.

- "Well, congratulations. It seems to me that you haven't lost any of your sexual power over the years." Selma admitted.

- "Phew, well, I used to have more stamina, but I still know exactly which strings to pull to make a rival squeak. But I have to say, she got me further than most of our opponents back then."

- "Yeah, let's not give her all the credit. I did train her."

- "Yes, you're right! Let's give the credit to the trainer. Good job training her."

- "Thank you very much!"

- "Well then, back to work?"

Yoga means balance. The rhythm of the body and the melody of the mind create the symphony of life. When two bodies come together and find a common rhythm, they become mirrors of our strengths and weaknesses. Only through competition can women develop their absolute physical potential.

Mother Nature's warriors

In the beginning it was just Mother Nature. For eons no one walked the face of this earth. But one day it happened that fire met water at a lake in the mountains. From the conjunction of these two opposing elements emerged two women, naked and so beautiful and so pure that all the birds fell silent in awe. One had hair made of silver, the other had hair like onyx. The women had no names and they did not yet speak any language. But even though they knew only each other and nothing of the world, they felt nothing but antipathy for one another. It was as if Mother Nature wanted the two women to be as different as the water and fire from which they rose.

At first they wrestled, naked as they were, but soon discovered that they were equally strong. The more their bodies intertwined and their sensitive breasts rubbed together, the more they felt the wetness between their thighs. A pleasant feeling spread and it felt good the closer their crotches came to one another. They suddenly knew instinctively that this was the way they had to compete. So they crossed their thighs and passionately slid their pussies over each other. Their powerful screams and moans of pleasure echoed through the primeval forests as their sweet juices mingled. The fierce battle raged for weeks, shine or rain, day or night, until Mother Nature herself had to issue a verdict. She declared the two arch enemies to be equals. But they should return to this place once an annual cycle and have an encounter until one defeats the other.

And so the art of tribadic combat was born, Mother Nature's competitive ritual. This is what the Amazons have told each other since the beginning of time. To this day, some women honor this legend with a sexual duel in remote locations to pay homage to the creatrix and her sacred ceremony.

Country Girls

Even as teenagers, Nicole (blonde) and Vera (reddish hair) were regularly at loggerheads. Whether they were rolling around in the hay on Vera's cousin's farm or soiling their fancy dresses in a mud puddle outside the village disco, the fights between them were passionately hateful and always blunt. But as they grew older, the way they fought out their duels changed. At some point they came to the realization that the mayhem they unleashed each time was in fact nothing more than the satisfaction of a subconscious lust for one another. Thus, with each subsequent encounter, the textiles became fewer and fewer until the climax of feminine competition was finally reached. The two had found the ultimate natural contest and achieved a state of spiritual purity. Their fights had always felt like a kind of ritual, but now they even had a meditative character. Today Vera and Nicole are graceful Amazons, divas of clit-to-clit combat, tribadic warriors for whom every forced orgasm is more severe than a slap in the face.