Podcast Pleasure

This week's episode of a podcast hosted by a major lesbian erotic film production studio is "Clit-vs-Clit – Sexfighting Girls in the Ring." Holly (brunette), a retired legend of lesbian sexfighting, and Jamie Lynn (red-haired), one of today's top sexfighters, are invited to the event. They both lean into the microphones, eager to share their insights, experiences and, above all, why they love sexfighting so much.

Holly begins by reminiscing about her early days in the sport, "Back when I first started, it was all about the clit-on-clit action. Nothing got the viewers going quite like two women, equally matched in skill and desire, going at it, rubbing their most sensitive spots together until one couldn't take it anymore and submitted." Her voice is smoky and filled with the kind of passion that only comes from years of intense, competitive pleasure.

Jamie Lynn nods in agreement. "It's like a dance," she says, "A dance of desire and dominance. You have to read your opponent's moves, anticipate their next thrust, all while keeping your own arousal in check. It's a delicate balance, but oh so satisfying when you make them scream in pleasure and defeat."

The conversation turns to their favorite tactics. Each description is met with a knowing look and a hint of competitive fire in their eyes. The sexual tension builds as they continue to discuss the art of tribadic fighting. The listeners can almost feel the heat radiating from their words as they delve into the nuances of each move, the importance of timing, and the thrill of victory.

But it's when they start talking about the raw, primal nature of the sport that things begin to get intense. "There's just something about the power, the intimacy of it all," says Jamie Lynn, her voice growing huskier. "It's not just about sex, it's about conquering, about proving who's the better lover." Holly's eyes sparkle with lustful challenge. "Exactly," she purrs, "It's about making your partner cum so hard that they can't fight back anymore. That moment of surrender is pure bliss."

Their words are like a siren's call to each other's desires. The air in the studio crackles with lust as they lean closer, biting their lips, and begin to undress each other with their eyes. "Let me show you," Holly whispers, her eyes dark with pleasure. And with that, the podcast takes an unexpected turn as the two champions of the sexfighting world begin to demonstrate their moves live on air.

Their bodies intertwine, grinding together in a passionate battle of wills. The podcast audience is treated to the sounds of their wet, hungry kisses and the slap of flesh on flesh. Holly surprises Jamie Lynn with a swift move, pushing her onto her back and straddling her. "I've been waiting for this," she says, her voice thick with arousal.

Holly smirks down at her, her eyes never leaving Jamie Lynn's. "You think you can beat me?"

"I know I can," Jamie Lynn says. Both laugh with joy and disbelief that they can finally test each other’s skills.

Their hips begin to rock, their pussies sliding together in a slick, sensual battle. They moan into the microphones, their breathing growing ragged as they each try to outlast the other. The podcast turns into an auditory feast of sexual sounds: wet, rhythmic grinding, gasps of pleasure, dirty-talking, and the occasional whimper of defeat.

Flaming red inferno of wet lust

It was a sultry summer evening on a sun-kissed Greek island, and the beach bar was bustling with life. Two fiery redheaded backpackers, Rachel and Laura, had stumbled upon the same little paradise by chance, both seeking a break from their solo travels. Their chemistry was palpable as they shared tales of their adventures over sweet cocktails, their laughter mingling with the salty sea breeze.

As the night darkened, the flickering torches made their red manes shimmer in a beautiful scarlet. At first, their conversations were playful, a dance of flirtatious jibes and shared laughter. But as the drinks flowed, their conversation became heated, and the playfulness gave way to a combative tone. They discussed everything from the most beautiful beaches they'd visited to the best selfie spots.

The argument began innocently – a debate about the authenticity of the local cuisine – but soon escalated into a heated exchange. Each insult became more personal, each remark sharper than the last. Their voices rose, attracting the attention of the other guests, including two elegantly dressed British women seated at a neighboring table. Victoria and Penelope were seasoned travelers themselves with a taste for the unconventional. Something about the pure passion in Rachel and Laura's argument fascinated them. They leaned closer, sipping their wine as the tension between the two redheads grew thicker than the humid sea air.

The argument now turned to their looks and then to their skills in bed. Each claimed to be the better lover, capable of bringing any woman to her knees. Victoria and Penelope, amused by the spectacle, decided to add substance to the war of words.

"Ladies, it's clear that you two have a considerable disagreement. Now, we don't want to further bother the other guests and risk glasses being thrown next. Therefore, we have an offer for you."

"We have some experience with disputes like yours. Sure, in the heat of an argument, you sometimes say things you don't mean and may even regret later. But there's a fire burning inside you, as red as your hair, that needs to be nurtured. You want to prove who's truly the better one in bed? Fine. Then you should do just that."

Laura and Rachel, their fingernails almost digging into the wooden table in anger, looked irritated, their urge to pounce on each other and start a sand fight having been abruptly interrupted.

"Listen, if you're interested in competing your womanhoods in a civilized manner, like real women, then come to our sailing yacht in the marina tomorrow morning. We offer you the chance to indulge that tickling sensation you feel inside, in a wet and boisterous way."

"Or you can fight right here and now like two schoolgirls, at the expense of your dignity. It's your decision."

The two elegant ladies emptied their wine glasses and strutted off into the darkness, holding hands, their summer dresses fluttering in the warm breeze. Rachel and Laura watched their barefoot trail in the sand before turning their attention back to each other.

"So, do we settle this now or tomorrow, stupid cunt?"

"You know what, I'm curious. I can wait until tomorrow to put you in your place, bitch."

"Oh, I'm so scared. See you at the marina, if you dare."

"Don't think I won't be there. You'll go down!"

On the morning in question, Laura and Rachel were already standing at the entrance to the marina, arms crossed, not even looking at each other. Penelope and Victoria strolled up a little later, cheerfully greeting their new acquaintances from the previous evening.

"I'm glad you could make it."

"Apparently, our offer was too tempting to refuse, am I right?"

"We assume you're aware of the kind of fight we're offering you."

"If not, take a good look now..."

Victoria and Penelope shared a long, very long French kiss, grabbing each other's breasts, the nipples of which peeked out briefly from behind their bikini tops. They seemed to be enjoying themselves immensely and almost fell over. But they recovered and adjusted their bikinis.

"So, that's what it's all about. You two fuck. Whoever lasts longer without cumming wins and can call herself the better lover."

"You still have the opportunity to turn back if that's too hot for you. We'll have fun without you."

Rachel and Laura already knew that the invitation from the previous evening wasn't intended to be a mere brawl. Penelope and Victoria's words had made that abundantly clear. Despite their argument, the two red-haired beauties couldn't deny their sexual attraction. Their bodies were fit, their breasts perky, and their lips – both those around their mouths and those between their legs - were full. So they were anything but averse to having sex with each other. If they could escalate their rivalry in the same breath – what were they waiting for?

They steered their small yacht, the "Wildcat," into a bay on an uninhabited, remote rocky island. No other boat was visible on the horizon. Obviously, this wasn't Victoria and Penelope's first time here.

"So, ladies. For the next hour, consider the Wildcat your property and us your guests. Anything you like can be your battlefield. Have fun and let it rip!"

Laura and Rachel wasted no time. They went to the bow of the Wildcat, removed their bikinis, and sat facing each other with their legs spread. They began to gently play with themselves, caressing their labia and stirring their clits. When their fingers were sticky with the flowing nectar, which they reinforced with willing and determined looks, they moved closer, crossed their legs, and pressed their dripping vulvas and swollen clits together before they began to rub them together.

Loud moans echoed off the rocks. Rachel and Laura tribbed like two nymphs in heat. Their wet pussies slapped together, causing their arousal to rise immeasurably. Equally full of desire, Penelope and Victoria quickly lost their composure and began masturbating, so that soon all four women were moaning in unison. So it went on, orgasm after orgasm, until Laura and Rachel, sweating and completely at their physical and sexual limits, finally fell onto their backs, panting for composure.

Who had won? In their frenzy, no one had even paid attention. But ultimately, everyone was a winner, because it was crystal clear that this had only been the beginning – the beginning of a sexual rivalry that hadn't even come close to reaching its full potential.

Pleasurable love-hate relationship

Megan (brunette), gritting her teeth, pushed her hips forward, the wetness of her pussy smacking against Holly's with a feral intensity. "You think you're gonna win this, bitch?" she snarled, her eyes narrowed with a fiery determination.

Holly (red-haired), equally as fierce, matched her opponent's rhythm, their legs intertwined in a fiery scissor lock. "You're the one who's gonna be begging for mercy," she shot back, a smug smile playing on her lips as she felt Megan's clit throb against hers.

Megan's breath hitched, but she didn't let it show. "Mercy? You're the one who's gonna be crying out for it, slut." She pushed harder, their wetness making slick, squelching sounds with every collision.

Holly's eyes rolled back in pleasure, but she didn't relent. "Is that all you got?" she taunted, her voice dripping with challenge. "You can't even handle a taste of my pussy power."

"Power?" Megan spat, her hips moving in a blur as she tried to overpower her opponent. "This is just the fucking appetizer. You haven't seen anything yet."

Their bodies, slick with sweat and desire, glided against each other as they fought for dominance. The room was filled with the scent of their arousal, mingling with the sound of their harsh breaths, the wet slapping of skin on skin and the lustful moans of two lesbians who had found their perfect match.

Their pussies ground together, the friction building to a crescendo as they both chased their orgasms, their insults becoming more and more intense.

"You're just a desperate little slut, aren't you?" Megan said, her voice dripping with spite. "You're nothing but a cheap, worthless whore."

"And you're the one who's all talk," Holly retorted. "You can't even make me cum, let alone win this."

Their movements grew erratic as the pleasure began to overwhelm them. Megan's face contorted in a mix of anger and lust, her eyes locked on Holly's. They slammed their pussies together with a ferocity that made them both gasp. Their clits were swollen and sensitive, each touch sending shockwaves of pleasure through their bodies. They were both so close to the edge, but neither was willing to give in.

"Fuck…cum for me, bitch," Megan demanded. "Cum for me and…admit that I'm better…than you…oh god…"

"Never," Holly hissed back, her hips trembling wildly. "I'll break you before…you break…me…fucking cunt…fuuuck..."

Wet Business

Maja's (red-haired) living room had been transformed into a makeshift pottery studio, the scent of fresh clay and glaze filling the air. Sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow on the meticulously arranged vases, bowls, and figurines that lined the shelves and tables. A local florist, a sharp-tongued woman named Elena (brunette), stepped in with a critical eye, her arms crossed over her chest.

"These are all so...plain," Elena said with a sniff. "They're not going to stand out in my store. I need something with more...flair."

Maja's face grew hot. She had spent countless hours perfecting her craft, and this woman was dismissing it so easily. "My style is elegant and timeless," she retorted. "Maybe your taste is just too garish to appreciate it."

"Elegant?" Elena scoffed. "These could've been made by a one-handed pensioner!"

Maja's hands clenched into fists. "You wouldn't know elegance if it slapped you across your over-glossed lips!"

The tension in the room was palpable. Then, Elena leaned in closer, her eyes narrowing. "And I bet you couldn't even throw a pot without getting your hands all sticky with your own juices, you fucking amateur."

Maja's eyes widened. "Excuse me?"

Elena stepped closer, a smug smirk playing on her lips. "You heard me. I bet you couldn't handle a real challenge, especially not between the legs."

The words hung in the air like a thunderclap, and the two women stared at each other, the heat of the moment making their breaths shallow. Then, with an angry hiss, Maja grabbed Elena by the arm, dragged her into the bedroom and pushed her onto the bed.

"You want a challenge?" she growled. "Let's settle this the womanly way."

The fight was on. Maja's hands were already at her own pants, unbuttoning and unzipping with a feral hunger. With a surprised and expectant grin, Elena watched Maja uncovering her wet pussy, her clit swollen with desire. "Let's see if you can handle this kind of 'flair'," she taunted.

Elena's eyes widened with lust. She followed Maja's lead, her own hands moving swiftly to strip away her jeans and underwear. Her pussy was equally wet, her arousal evident as she lay naked on the blanket, spread her legs and let her fingers slide through her labia.

"You think you're so special with that?" Elena jeered, her voice thick with arousal. "I've seen better in a brothel."

Maja's eyes flashed. "We'll see who's better."

The room was silent except for their ragged breaths. Then, Maja sat down full of vigor between the open thighs of her challenger, slamming her pussy into Elena's. The collision resulted in a loud, wet smacking sound, which sent a pleasurable jolt through both of them. They began to grind against each other, their hips moving in a frenzied dance. Their pussies were hot, wet and slick. Elena and Maja moaned passionately, calling each other slut or whore and mixing their juices into a sweet nectar that covered their battling clits.

"You fuck great, bitch! But not as good as me. I will subdue you! Your climax is mine!"

"You are the best cunt I've had in a long time. But don’t fool yourself Your pussy will burn when mine is done with her."

"Oh, do you think so? Are you sure you don't want to kiss my 'over-glossed' lips?"

"Yeah! I wanna kiss you while our pussies fight and fight and fight, getting wetter, getting slipperier…"

"Fuck, it's so hot when you talk like that. Now trib me harder, faster, I want to see our juices splash!"

Love Triangle

"Oh wow, I can't believe this is actually happening. Well, of course I wanted them to fight over me, but I never expected them to fight that dirty, like cats in heat. Who knew they had such fiery personalities under those bikinis? As fiery as their red hair. The way they thrust into each other, how they moan and gasp, how their bodies shimmer in the sun like statues made of alabaster…it's so arousing, yet I feel a bit guilty for enjoying the show. Their competitive game is perfect, I can't take my eyes off them. Should I stop them? Or let it play out and see who wins? This vacation takes a steamy turn, who would have thought. Let me just...take some video evidence."

Afternoon's Sweet Temptation

Théa, a curvy 26-year-old with red hair and pale skin, was lounging by the pool with her new boyfriend, Marco. They wanted to take advantage of the opportunity to have the apartment complex's pool to themselves that afternoon, despite the hot temperatures. They laughed and teased each other and genuinely had a good time. Suddenly, Dara, a striking 30-year-old Asian chick emerged from the building. Her curvaceous body was accentuated by a bikini that barely covered her nipples.

"Mind if I join you?" Dara asked, not waiting for an answer. Théa exchanged a glance with Marco, who shrugged.

"Sure, why not?" Théa replied, trying to hide her annoyance. Dara lay down on the deck chair right next to them, which irritated Marco in particular, for her eyes were never leaving Théa.

"Your boyfriend is quite handsome," she said, enjoying the sight of Théa's gorgeous ass and her breasts lying flat on her towel. "But I must say, you're the hot one here."

Théa uttered an exasperated and unimpressed, "Thanks."

Dara continued, "Well, I bet your wet slit is swelling up just thinking about what we could do together, am I right?"

Théa bristled. "Excuse me?"

Dara smirked. "Oh, come on. Don't act so innocent! I've heard stories about what you did in bed with Tina's friend the other day. Some say she came for an entire hour. You're exactly the kind of freaky I like."

Marco couldn’t believe his ears and Théa was lacking an explanation. "Listen babe, ignore that bitch, I'm not a lesbian. I just have a little fun with women from time to time. Sorry I didn't tell you."

Dara stood up and laughed maliciously. "Maybe it's better that way. These stories are all lies anyway. You would just be intimidated by my sex appeal and would cum within seconds."

"Shut the fuck up, cunt! I would conquer you and make you my little bitch!", Théa replied defiantly.

Dara bared her voluptuous breasts, which was considered an unmistakable challenge. "Then prove it. Let's have a little competition, woman to woman. I bet I can make you orgasm before you can make me cum. Prove your reputation is deserved, you "non-lesbian"!"

Théa turned away. "No, I'm not interested."

Dara chuckled. "Afraid you'll lose? Or is it because your boyfriend is here?" She turned to Marco. "Maybe you should go take a walk or something. Give us girls some privacy." She then stepped gracefully into the pool, expecting a response to her declaration of sexual war.

Marco looked at Théa, a question in his eyes. Théa sighed. "It's fine. I can handle this."

Théa joined her challenger in the pool and also pulled down her green bikini top, sealing the deal: these two women would compete sensually.

Dara and Théa circled each other in the pool, their eyes locked. They explored each other's bodies, especially their breasts became targets of gentle attacks. The chemistry between them was perfect, they were getting hot – so hot that the water could have started to boil. As the spiral of escalation progressed, their hands wandered into each other's bikini bottoms and found aroused clits whose impatience to wrestle with one another was palpable.

Their soft moaning was interrupted when Dara made a suggestion. "It seems that this pool is too small for the both of us. Let's move this showdown somewhere where our pussies can fight out this clinch without limits. Let's go to my place!"

Théa was more than pleased with this idea. "Fuck yeah! I can't wait for our clits to meet and bash each other up until you scream with lust between my wet thighs."

"You wish, slut! I'm going to fuck you to the climax of your life now, whether you want it or not. But when our juices mix you'll want to, I promise.", Dara announced confidently.

Hand in hand and almost naked, they left the pool together and strutted into the apartment building. Their moans and screams could be heard in the distance until late into the night…

Girls Like Us

Steph had been planning to go out for a drink with her new red-haired co-worker from the gym for a while. This bombshell had turned her head. She couldn't think of anything else at work but April when she walked past her in skin-tight leggings and a sports bra from which her perfect breasts seemed to want to pop out. They met after work in a Puerto Rican bar on the outskirts of town. As they sipped their colorful cocktails, they suddenly realized they had never exchanged more than a few words with each other before. But this awkward moment didn't last long and over time they became more relaxed and engaged in intense conversations. The later the evening, the more uninhibited and arousing the topics of conversation became, just as both women had intended, even if they didn't want to reveal it to each other yet.

Steph leaned in close to April and argued, "You know, I've always believed that women who have sexfights against each other lead way more exciting lives."

April raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean by sexfights?"

Steph smiled slyly. "I mean exactly what you think I mean. Two women, going head to head in a battle of passion and wills, using their pussies and clits as weapons."

April's eyes widened with excitement.

Steph leaned back, took another sip, crossed her legs seductively slowly and "accidentally" touched her cleavage. "Think about it. When you're in a sexfight, you're completely focused on the moment, on the pleasure and the war of womanhoods. You're not worried about anything else, you're not thinking about the past or the future. You're living in the present, and that's where the real excitement is."

April smiled, intrigued. "And what would that look like, exactly?"

Steph leaned in even closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Well, it usually starts with some sexy trash-talking. Both women are horny for each other, but they want to try to increase their opponent's lust through the targeted use of words in order to gain an advantage. If they are not already naked, they slowly strip so that they can gently rub their aroused nipples together, all while looking deep into each other's eyes to catch a spark of doubt about their sexual superiority."

April's breath hitched as she imagined the scene that Steph was painting. "And then what?"

Steph's eyes sparkled with mischief. "And then, once things have heated up and the liquids are flowing, pussies and clits begin their slippery duel, colliding and rubbing together. The sluts moan loudly as they try to outdo one another in this libido competition. They scissor fast or slow, hard or soft, while their juices mix, always hoping that their own clit can last longer in this lustful fencing match at eye level. And finally one will fuck the other to climax and claim victory or they will cum together and round 2 will be declared. And trust me, it's a rush like no other either way."

April was silent for a moment, her mind racing with the possibilities. "And you've…done this before?"

Both made no secret of the fact that they were getting wetter and wetter and wetter. They opened their legs and through the glass table they could spot that neither of them was wearing panties under their short dresses. Their slick pussies were yearning for each other and their clits were throbbing with desire.

Steph licked her finger, a sly smile playing at her lips. "More times than I can count."

April leaned over to her, gave her a long, wet French kiss and bit Steph's lower lip as she leaned back. "And what if I wanna try it?"

Steph was taken by surprise and her eyes were still closed. But as soon as she was able to pull herself together and realized what had just happened, she took a deep breath and answered, "Then we'll have war tonight, sweetheart. Woman-to-woman, clit-on-clit sex war!"

Beach Standoff

The two women circle each other, their muscles tense and their eyes blazing with anger and lust. The tide rolls in gently behind them, leaving a thin layer of salty water on the sand.

- "You're nothing but a slut who takes what doesn't belong to her! I'm going to show you what it feels like to fuck with a real woman."

- "You little bitch, I'm going to make you scream my name as you cum against your will! You'll never be as good as me, or as good as your girlfriend."

They close the distance between them, grabbing each other's hair and pressing their slippery bodies together. Their breasts rub against each other, sending shivers down their spines. They begin to grind their hips, their erect nipples rubbing against one another in a sensual yet fierce dance.

- "You're so fucking wet! I bet you've never had anyone make you feel this way before..."

- "Shut up, you dirty whore! You don't know shit about making a woman cum."

- "Oh, really? Well, then you should let me show you how much your girlfriend misses my clit on her clit…"

- "I'm going to make you regret the day you set eyes on her!"

The girls start to trib their slick cunts, their moans and gasps mingling in the air as their bodies move in perfect rhythm.

- "Oh, slut... you're gonna feel so good when I make you cum..."

- "You're not going to make me feel anything! I'm going to make you scream and beg for mercy!"

Their fingernails dig into each other's soft skin. The duel becomes more intense, more primal, as they struggle to force climax upon one another and claim victory.

Meeting of Generations

Svenja (red-haired), the undisputed sexfight champion of her generation, enjoyed the warm summer wind caressing her breasts. She was on the verge of retirement from her professional career, but before she hung up her gloves, there was one last challenge she craved. Clara (black-haired), the reigning champion of the current generation, stood before her, equally as skilled and hungry for victory. They had chosen a remote meadow for their showdown in order to settle this most natural of all female contests in an appropriate environment.

The way their slippery pussies met sparked a tribadic war of clitoral clashes the likes of which the world had never seen before in such equality. Two queens, two unmatched pussies matching each other, willing to find out who can prove her sexual superiority. Their movements were purposeful, always careful to identify weaknesses. But the longer they fought and the louder they moaned, the more the simmering impatience spread. Little did Clara and Svenja know that they were in the middle of the most intense sexfight ever.

They watched their hard clits excitedly as they wrestled and both felt a climax inexorably approaching. Juices squirted between their thighs as their cunts slid over each other again and again, leaving threads of lust behind before they came back together repeatedly. Svenja and Clara never wanted to stop because they had finally found a truly worthy opponent. But here only one woman will crown herself queen and pierce her rival with an ultimate orgasm.

The spirit of Olympia

Sport is a core element of our civilization. People have been competing with each other since prehistoric times, in all cultures. It particularly stimulates the sexual drives. The feeling of victory, of physical superiority, is equivalent to an orgasm. This is especially true for sports that involve full physical effort, such as wrestling. It's no surprise that a sexual contest between women is a natural consequence. The gracefully strong bodies shine from the sweat of the showdown and the uninhibited body contact. Erogenous zones touch and rub against each other in the heat of the fight, so that these contacts are increasingly actively sought. This cat-and-mouse game continues until both can no longer contain themselves and the wrestling match culminates in a burst of tribadic fury.

@FoxyCombat

The perfect blend of sensuality and raw passion

Do you understand the allure of female-on-female wrestling?

The rush of adrenaline, the heat of skin-on-skin contact, the energy coursing through you – it's a dance of desire and dominance.

When two women engage in such a physical, intimate battle, it stimulates the feminine libido unlike anything else.

It's the perfect blend of sensuality and raw passion.

The way our bodies entwine and clash, the sweat glistening on our skin, the sound of our moans and breathless laughter – it's invigorating.

The audacity of flirting with strangers

After returning from the party, Sheila (red-haired) confronts Mai (black-haired) about her behavior with another girl. Feeling betrayed and possessive, Sheila decides to teach Mai a lesson. She needs to be punished for having the audacity to flirt with another bitch. Why should she need it, since this cunt could never hold a candle to Sheila sexually anyway. But Mai is spoiling for a fight and continues to fuel the aggressions through provocations. She won't just let herself be fucked without resistance. And so it was now inevitable that their pussies met to duel.

It was an emotional match laced with lust, jealousy, anger and determination. Neither of them could afford to lose this competition without losing a significant amount of self-confidence and gravitas within the relationship. Sexfighting continued from the early hours of the morning until mid-morning, but before Mai or Sheila could win a decisive trump, signs of fatigue began to set in. Nevertheless, Mai launched a final, desperate offensive to force her girlfriend to surrender. She was able to narrowly turn the tribadic contest in her favor, but only with borderline sexual effort.

If she had had an easier time, this would have been a reason for Mai to reconsider her relationship with Sheila. But this clit war at the highest level showed her that Sheila still had a lot to offer.

Confrontation with my former history teacher

"Who hasn't felt the urge to come back at one of your former school teachers with a vengeance for all that homework, bad grades or detention? Well, I have my own way of doing it. Mrs. Cornett and I have always had a strained relationship, but it got worse as I matured into a woman. From that moment on, she saw me as a kind of threat. My mother, who went to school with her, always said that I'm the spitting image of the 19-year-old Emma Cornett. Maybe that's why she always saw me as more than just another schoolgirl. When I went to college, I saw the perfect opportunity to get revenge on her. Mrs. Cornett's daughter Tamara is a year older than me and is taking some of the same courses as me. She's a pretty hot redhead. But so am I. So I seduced her and fucked her.

It didn't take very long for my former history teacher to get wind of it. I received a strange message from Tamara that I should meet her at home and not in her dorm room as usual. I knew, of course, that the message actually came from her mother. Mrs. Cornett was already waiting for me with her arms crossed and a look of disgust. She had no idea that this meeting had been my intention all along. Whore, slut, troublemaker were just a few of the insults she threw at me. Mrs. Cornett accused me of intentionally making her life more difficult and I didn't contradict her. After all, I was seeking after a fight. And she did me this one favor.

We tribfought on the couch, the carpet and finally on the dining table. Our wet cunts bit each other and our heated clits wrestled back and forth. She knows a thing or two about fucking, I'll give her that. It was an evenly matched battle most of the time – I made her cum, she made me cum. Two clit warriors in their element. But even though it was closer than I intended, I was able to force her to surrender. My pussy ended up being stronger. And I savored that victory copiously with a glass of her most expensive Cabernet Sauvignon while relishing the sight of the tyrant of my school days defeated and gasping for breath in her own apartment."