Barocca vs Puma Swede
VS 
COUGAR vs PUMA
“Mmmm. I just love it here in St. Thomas, Richard” Barocca cooed. “It’s been a lovely two weeks. Sun, sand, and sex. You just can’t dream of a better vacation. How’d you ever find this place?”
Lying next to his lady under the lightweight tropical floral print sheet, Richard shrugged, “I heard about it from one of my buddies. His lady made their arrangements and he raved about it. Said they toured the island and basked on the beaches by day, and tore up the bed by night. Best sex they ever had, he said.”
“No argument there,” she smiled, cuddling against his muscular chest, easing her leg over his, and letting her hand wander down to his overworked cock. She sighed. “Ironic, having sex in the Virgin Islands. I don’t want to go back home ever…but I suppose we must. If I didn’t have a boxing match coming up in about a week, I could stay here forever.”
“I know what you mean. But we have another full day to make love and pamper ourselves before you have to return to the world of femme fighting. And right now we have just enough time for a quick one before lunch. Shall we?”
“I’m always ready for you, big boy,” she giggled, stroking his stiffening dick.
On the far side of the hotel’s courtyard, another couple was similarly enjoying each other’s favors. Blonde bombshell Puma Swede had just finished off her man and dismounted his flagging rod. “I’m gonna call you Marathon Man from now on, Kevin. You’re a long-distance guy if I ever saw one.”
“And I notice that you keep right up with me, sugar. No matter what position, you know what I like,” he replied. Puma rubbed his chest and nibbled on his ear. “Hey, babe, give a guy a chance to recharge. The secret of us long-distance guys is our ability to pace ourselves.”
“Maybe this’ll help you pick up the pace, lover.” Puma bent her head toward Kevin’s cock and engulfed it in her hungry mouth. It helped that he wasn’t at full extension yet-but he soon would be. She knew exactly how to resurrect a tired man. Besides, at 11:00 in the morning, it was way too early for him to be worn out.
“OK, OK, doll. But after this one let’s get dressed and grab some lunch. I gotta restoke the old furnace so it’ll continue to put out heat, right?”
Puma couldn’t answer because her mouth was full…and getting fuller. She nodded her head up and down as best she could and Kevin groaned with renewed ecstasy.
Shortly after noon, Barocca and Richard arrived at the hotel restaurant by one door at exactly the same moment that Puma and Kevin stepped through the other door. The women’s eyes locked immediately and shot laser beams instantly. They were wearing exactly the same dress.
“Look at that blonde bitch over there,” Barocca hissed at Richard in a low voice. “The tall one. She’s wearing my dress.”
“It looks almost a good on her as it does on you,” Richard remarked before receiving a kick in the shin.
“Don’t be such a prick,” the brunette growled.
Puma snarled, “Get a load of that black bimbo at the other door…the one wearing my dress.”
“Oh my,” Kevin gasped in mock horror. “A social faux pas. Do you want to leave and change into something else?”
“Fuck no. Let her leave and change,” the blonde shot back.
Throughout both exchanges the two women never broke eye contact, never blinked, and never unclenched their teeth. It was as though two feral cats had met and were competing from a distance to determine which was the dominant predator. The match was pretty even.
The women were inexorably drawn together, stepping closer and dragging their men in tow behind them. Richard and Kevin glanced at each other-when they could tear their gaze away from the other’s gorgeous woman-and shrugged in anticipation of the inevitable confrontation. The women didn’t stop until they were face to face and only inches apart. You could tell they were irritated by their sullen facial expressions and deep, measured breathing. You could tell they were aroused by the way their stiff nipples poked at the thin fabric of their identical low-cut red mini sundresses.
The women’s backs were up; had they had fur, it would have been standing on end. They hissed at each other in low, bitter tones at first but it soon rose in volume as the encounter grew hotter. Their men tried to pull them toward separate distant table, but the gals would have none of it. They stubbornly stood their ground, trading insults and accusations of a wide variety of immoral and unladylike behavior. Diners were beginning to stare.
Richard tried to cover the uncomfortable scene by suggesting that they all move the conversation outside until they could decide what they wanted to eat. The wildcats allowed themselves to be escorted out, not missing a beat of their hate-filled exchange. Kevin muttered to Richard, “How can these two get so fired up like this? They don’t even know each other. It can’t be just over these silly dresses.”
“Who knows?” Richard rolled his eyes. “Women. With these two it’s hatred at first sight, I guess. By the way, I’m Richard,” he said offering his hand.
“Kevin.” He shook Richard’s hand. They exchanged pleasantries while their companions exchanged unpleasantries. The girls were in each other’s faces so much that you couldn’t pass a sheet of cigarette paper between the tips of their noses.
“We better do something about this,” Richard cautioned, “before the fur starts to fly.”
“I have an idea. If you can keep them from tearing into each other for a few minutes, I think I can arrange a way to settle this dispute,” Kevin offered, heading toward the hotel manager’s office.
“Hurry,” Richard urged. “Those few minutes could be an eternity if I try to get between these two.”
Ten minutes later both couples were back in their respective cabañas and both ladies were changing clothes. Richard finished explaining to Barocca, “…so Kevin reserved the exercise room for an hour this afternoon, for our exclusive use. Private. You can take out your animosity on that Puma dame all you want, without disturbing the other guests.”
“Perfect. I’ll show that bitch who’s Number One. That skinny-ass Scandinavian skank really pissed me off. She’ll be sorry she ever laid eyes on me.” Barocca was changing into her oldest and least favorite bikini in anticipation of a bitter struggle.
Over at Puma’s, the conversation ran along similar lines. Kevin observed, “I don’t see why you too blew up just because you were wearing the same dress. Doesn’t that show that you and Barocca both have exquisite taste in clothes?”
“Men!” the blonde shorted. “You just don’t get it. It’s a lot more than just the fucking clothes, but you’ll never understand. It’s about-oh, just forget it.”
At 1:00 PM Kevin unlocked the exercise room door and the four of them entered. Then he locked the door behind them and closed the blinds on all the windows. To avoid drawing attention from the other guests, Barocca, Puma, Richard, and Kevin had all changed into beach clothes: bikinis and shortie robes for the women, Speedos and beach towels for the men. No one raised an eyebrow. As agreed, the hotel staff had cleared all the equipment to the far side of the room, leaving a wide open space in the middle, cushioned by a thick mat.
Turning to face Kevin’s video camera, Richard announced. “OK, ladies, we have the place all to ourselves for an hour. Over here we have the Blonde Bombshell from Stockholm, Sweden, PUMA SWEDE!” The blonde stepped forward and whipped off her robe to show her magnificent body, all 5’10” and 123 pounds of it. She wore a hot pink and black bikini so tiny it would have escaped notice in a nudist colony. She placed her hands on her hips as if defying anyone to find a flaw in what they saw.
Puma sneered at her opponent and stated, “32F-25-35. You know, Barocca, I’ve also made a catfight video for your old company. Hardly anyone there remembers you. You’re the ultimate has-been, so fuck off.” With what could have been mistaken for a nervous spasm, she jiggled everything for the camera and stepped back.
“And over here to face Puma is our cougar, that famous femme fighting champion, the Brazilian Bombshell from Rio de Janeiro, BAROCCA!” The brunette stepped forward and absent-mindedly loosened the belt of her robe before allowing it to gape open and slowly ooze off her shoulders. The focal points of her body hid behind a glaring green and yellow geometric pattern bikini. Barocca spun slowly, letting the camera drink in every square inch of her 5’10”, 135-pound body.
Running her hands caressingly down her body, Barocca whispered, “34FF-22-36. And before we start, I think you should know, Kevin, that after I beat your slut here, I get to have sex with you. The same goes for you, Richard. If by some bizarre stroke of evil Puma should win, you become her prize.” The cougar capped her recitation with a grin and a wink before stepping back to glare at Puma.
Both men grinned like idiots at the prospect of screwing the other guy’s woman. Richard hoarsely resumed, “On my mark, ladies, let ‘er rip. GO!”
The two wildcats sprung at each other as though propelled by catapults. Their long hair provided the most obvious and most convenient handholds, so they pressed against each other and began yanking hair. The grimacing gladiators snarled and grunted, their faces contorted in hideous scowls, with teeth bared, as they scuffled to and fro across the mat. Occasionally their muttered profanity was audible but mostly it was just unintelligible utterings.
Physically the grapplers were evenly matched. Same height. Barocca had 12 pounds on her rival but every ounce of it was solid muscle. The cougar also had the experience edge over Puma, who had tussled a little in mock combat for photo shoots but had never competed in an actual fight. Nevertheless, the Swede held her own against the Brazilian during the first few minutes. But this was all catfighting; hair-pulling, clawing, angry women trying to inflict physical and emotional pain instead of winning an athletic competition.
Barocca slammed Puma’s back against the wall so she couldn’t retreat. Unable to maneuver, the blonde head-butted her assailant, stunning the stunning stripper. It was a rash tactic, though, as Puma had also stunned herself. Both dizzy dolls broke their holds and walked around shaking their heads to clear them. Puma’s daze lifted first, because the headbutt didn’t surprise her as much. She crouched and ran at Barocca, ramming her shoulder into the black beauty’s belly.
The Latina went down with a loud grunt, the Swede right on top of her. The impact of Puma’s shoulder popped one of Barocca’s boobs out of its cup and her impact with the mat popped the other one. She was furious that this rank amateur scored the first takedown. The fire in her gray eyes grew and she promised herself that this whore would suffer for such a display of disrespect.
Puma was unaccustomed to following through with an advantage and the cougar easily threw her off and got to her feet first. The blonde rocketed up and clamped onto the brunette’s bouncing bazookas and squeezed for all she was worth. Barocca shrieked and returned the gesture but Puma’s bra prevented Barocca’s talons from sinking in and causing equal agony to her pale tender titflesh. Since Puma would not let go, Barocca had little choice but to monkeyflip the blonde. That did the trick as Puma went tumbling into Richard’s legs.
Barocca bounced right back up again and tucked her titties back into their pockets while Puma untangled herself from Richard, who miraculously maintained his footing. The Brazilian Bombshell could see from the bulges in the guys’ Speedos that they were enjoying the fight thus far. Nothing like a flash of breast to bring their cocks to attention. How had Puma managed to keep her miniscule top in place, especially over those huge melons? Must be glued on, she surmised.
Puma charged. Cougar pounced. Barocca caught her in a tight headlock that had the busty blonde choking and clawing at the python-like right arm that encircled her throat. The big brunette smiled smugly and she cranked up the pressure. After flailing her arms helplessly, Puma switched to something more practical: punching Barocca’s back. That only inspired the statuesque stripper to pump Puma’s head up and down a few times before she yanked the blonde off her feet with a modified hiptoss.
When the sweaty Swede hit the mat, her tiny top shot off; the strain of her undulating udders snapped the slender straps. Richard and Kevin were grateful that both buxom brawlers were used to working topless-and even nude-so there was no overly modest attempt to cover their jiggly juggs or to blush with mock embarrassment. If either woman noticed Puma’s top was gone, she gave no indication.
None that is until Barocca bent over the supine Swede and Puma snatched away the Brazilian’s bra with a lightning-fast swipe. Now Barocca’s twin peaks dangled deliciously over her blonde adversary as she went about her business of torturing Puma more. Kevin let out a low moan and shifted his stance to relieve his penile discomfort.
“Isn’t she great?” Richard asked with a nudge. “That Puma has a pair of perky puppies herself. A man could suck on those babies all day long.”
“A man has,” Kevin admitted. “But after a while, a man longs for a little variety, y’know?” Richard smiled and nodded.
Barocca was busy breast-smothering Puma while the blonde swung her long legs up at her foe. She managed to trap the brunette in a crushing head scissors, thus pulling those chocolaty cha-chas off her face. Barocca belly-flopped gracelessly onto Puma as she tried to pry her constricting legs apart. With her rival writhing, Puma hammered the cougar’s ribcage with painful punches.
The Brazilian Bombshell reached around the Blonde Bombshell’s hips and worked a finger under Puma’s thong and into her pussy. Swede bucks at the unexpected but familiar sensation, opening her legs just enough for Barocca to slip out. Puma slapped her hard across her luscious round ass and Barocca laughed. “Oooo, Puma’s pussy is kittenish, eh?” Puma bucked her off, still chuckling.
On their feet again, the girls circled each other while resettling their thongs. Kevin and Richard also rearranged things in their Speedos, which suddenly seemed to have shrunken a size or two. Puma and Barocca glanced their way and were gratified to see the effect they had on the men. It’s not hard to get a man hard, not for women like them, but it’s always a morale boost…or is that an immorale boost? Whatever, a boner is a boner. Barocca’s eye twinkled at the thought of Kevin’s cock. Puma assessed Richard’s rocket and licked her lips.
Turning their attention back to the battle, the women had time to strategize. “I may have sold this Puma short,” Barocca mused. “For an amateur, she’s damn good. She can dish it out and she can take it. I’ve fought pros who aren’t as good as this babe. I gotta stay on my toes with her. Besides, it’ll kill her to know I’m fucking her man Kevin.”
Puma thought, “Whoever told me this Amazon was all washed up? Shit, she’s the toughest broad I’ve ever met. Strong, Smart. Wiry. And what a body! No wonder we hate each other. We’re too much alike. We’re in direct competition for every man. I want to fuck Richard just because she’s been fucking him. I want him to like be better.”
The cautious coquettes locked fingers for a test of strength. They started off with their hands high, and then slowly lowered them in a wide arc as they eased their heaving, sweat-soaked mounds together. That felt good. Each could feel the other’s hard nipples poking her own firm mammaries. While struggling to improve their grips, their upper balconies mashed together sensuously, arousing their pussies to start pumping out their unique and unique juices. Now they were cheek-to-cheek, grinding their gazongas and drenching their thongs with nookie nectar.
The men were shooting from opposite sides now, both cameras homed in on the tight gluteus muscles as the women strained for supremacy…and for sexual release. The snarling and cursing had stopped and the half-naked hellcats indulged themselves in an odd form of mutual masturbation. Look, ma; no hands. Barocca could really pump out the jizz, and it soon began trickling-then flowing-down her inner thighs. Puma was oozing, too, but it was harder to detect against her pale skin. Her behavior gave the blonde away.
“My nuts are gonna explode,” Richard thought as he zoomed in on Barocca’s shimmering wet thighs. “If they don’t start fighting again soon, I’m gonna shoot my wad right here. I won’t have any left for Puma.”
Kevin shared his agony. Puma began to thrust her pelvis, grunting softly and rhythmically. “She’s cumming,” he knew, “and in about ten seconds I’ll be cumming, too. I won’t have any left for Barocca.”
The girls’ moans escalated rapidly to loud grunts and sexual screams as they came, still locked at the hands. As if by some signal inaudible to other humans, the broke their hold and staggered apart.
“I’m calling time out,” Kevin insisted. “I think Richard and I need a break.”
“So do the girls,” Richard added. “Barocca, let’s go to the restroom and…uh, clean up before you continue.”
“You two use the ladies’ restroom and Puma and I will use the men’s,” Kevin specified, grabbing Swede’s wrist.
“This isn’t over, Puma,” Barocca panted. “But the boys are right. We need a break.”
“Ten minutes,” Puma gasped. “No more. Then I’m gonna kick you fat black ass.”
In the ladies’ room, Barocca splashed some cool water on her face and blotted it dry with a paper towel. Then she wet another couple of towels and wiped her thighs and pussy with them. When she turned around, Richard was waiting there with his huge bursting black shaft pointing due north. “Just what I need. Popeye needs his spinach and I need my spunk. Richard, darling, you’re always ready to give me exactly what I need.” She knelt and opened her mouth wide to finish her man off.
In the men’s room, Puma stripped off her pink and black thong and rinsed it in the sink before washing her pussy and legs. Kevin stepped up behind her and she knew instantly that his quivering shaft required her immediate attention. He was already naked and ready to pop. She sat him on the toilet, eased herself down on his mighty man muscle, and buried his face in her bountiful bosom.
Ten minutes later and everyone was back in place and breathing normally. The girls had replaced their suits but left the bras wherever they had fallen. “Wouldn’t it be a wonderful world if everyone could take a midday sex break?” Barocca sighed with a satisfied smile. The consensus was yes.
After checking their cameras, the guys signaled the girls that they were almost ready to resume. The cooled-down competitors stood about two feet apart, eyes locked, and awaited the signal. At the signal, Puma suddenly dropped her gaze and squinted at a spot just to one side and below Barocca’s nose. “What’s that?” she asked, “just off the corner of your mouth?” The brunette touched the area and felt something moist. “Is that cum?” Puma sneered. “Did Richard fuck your face in there? I bet you swallowed it, too.”
Steamed, Barocca wiped away the spot. She was more irritated that Puma thought it was funny that at the fact that the blonde was entirely correct. Richard had shot such a load that some of it had gushed out of Barocca’s mouth and down her chin. She had indeed swallowed the rest. Tasty. And rich in proteins. She’d gulped it down willingly and eagerly, like a cheap slut. Which was probably what Puma was grinning about at that very moment.
Now Barocca squinted at Puma’s jaw. “And what about this mark?”
“What mark?”
Before Puma could instinctively raise her hand, Barocca uncorked a short but jolting punch to the point of Swede’s chin. She corkscrewed but didn’t fall down. “Looks like the beginning of a bruise. Those can be painful. You’d better watch yourself, dearie,” Barocca remarked smugly.
Puma backhanded Barocca with a force sufficient to knock her off her feet. The blonde gloated, “That must’ve been some face-fucking you got. I never could’ve caught you with your guard down otherwise, bitch.” When the brunette was halfway up, Swede kicked her in the belly and sent her sprawling to the mat again. The Brazilian was on her back cradling her aching abdomen when Puma stomped her knockers. A thread of blood made its way out of the corner of her mouth and down her cheek, a belated souvenir of Puma’s backhand.
“First knockdown, now first blood,” shouted Puma gleefully. She strutted around her fallen foe positively gloating. “You gotta learn to keep your mouth shut, sugartits. C’mon, Barocca, get up. I’m far from finished with you.” The battered black beauty propped herself up on her elbows and wiped the blood with the back of her hand. Wiping her mouth was becoming monotonous. Her eyes narrowed to slits as she sized up the promenading Puma. Like a cunning predator, Barocca rolled onto her hands and knees and slowly rose, never taking her eyes from her prey.
With a feline growl, Barocca charged Puma, slamming her against the wall and knocking the wind out of her. While the blonde gasped, the brunette ripped away her pink and black thong and kneed her hairless hump. Swede hit the floor with a thud, curled in the fetal position. Leaving her naked prey in what appeared to be death throes, The Brazilian Bombshell took a slow lap of the room, strutting and flexing for the cameras-particularly Kevin’s. She paused at Richard’s and gave his package an affectionate squeeze.
Returning to her opponent, she kicked Puma’s tits, rolling her over in the process. “I’m tired of fucking around with you, Puma. No; on second thought, you’re no Puma-you’re just a Pussy. You haven’t earned the right to hunt with us big cats. And I’ll prove it.” Barocca hooked her thumbs under the hip straps of her thong and peeled it off. “We’ll settle this woman-to-woman.”
Grabbing Puma by the ankles, she straightened the blonde’s legs and dragged her to the center of the room. She dropped one leg and squatted, mashing her smoothly-shaved pussy hard against her rival’s and began to grind. Kevin leaned to Richard and confided, “That Puma is quite a sex machine. She’s insatiable.”
“Maybe, but Barocca is in a league all by herself. This pussy-to-pussy duel will make our videos worth their weight in gold,” Richard grinned.
As the gash grinding continued, it became apparent that the sounds emanating from Barocca were grunts of exertion while those from Puma were moans of sexual ecstasy. Both women were grimacing hard enough to make them sweat profusely. The “lop-lop-lop” sound rising from their moist cunts grew in both volume and frequency. No doubt about it: Barocca was raping Puma. And Puma was loving it. When Swede was on the verge of a volcanic vaginal eruption, Barocca stopped, grabbed her pelvis, and hauled her up onto her shoulders. Resuming the position, the bra-bursting Brazilian began humping the heavy-hootered honey once more.
This time Barocca took Puma all the way to the moon and back. The blonde spread her arms like outriggers and shook violently. Sex and violence-an unbeatable combination. Just ask Barocca. Hot jizz boiled out of her inverted cunt. After the flow subsided, the Bombshell rammed three fingers inside the baby-bald pink pussy and fucked it vigorously. The oversensitized Puma screamed for her to stop, but Barocca ignored her.
Barocca let the exhausted exhibitionist collapse and walked directly to the cameras. “Any doubts about who won? Who’s Numero Uno?” she asked. Then the bawdy brunette struck a few poses for the future video audience: she flexed her muscles, cupped and hefted her tits, swung her delicious derrière into view, blew kisses, and fingered her pussy. In the background, panting Puma rolled over on her side, thoroughly drained from her ordeal. She watched her conqueror cavort for the cameras with a mixture of disgust and envy. Of course, she’d have done exactly the same if she had whipped the stripper.
The Bombshell pulled a weight bench onto the mat. She hauled Swede by her golden blonde hair to her knees and dragged her to the foot of the bench. Then Barocca lay down on it with her rump at the edge and her legs spread wide. Puma stared at the gaping pink pussy waiting for her on the smooth, dark depilated crotch. Barocca undulated her hips and commanded, “Eat me, bitch! Put that wagging tongue of yours to good use for a change.”
Under other circumstances, she’d have been as eager as any horny guy to bury her face in that smoldering honeypot, but now it wasn’t a wanton invitation, it was only a blatant act of submission. She could see Barocca’s button poking proudly from its hood, still raring to go after their crotch-crunching session. Without an ounce of enthusiasm, she scooted closer, moistened her lips, and bent to the task at hand. She could detect the aroma of her own pussy juices on Barocca’s waiting lusty loins. Puma stuck out her tongue and went to work.
The blonde had to admit that she’d had worse jobs. This one, in fact, was among the more pleasant. The cougar’s pussy perfume was temptingly fragrant, and the more she licked, the more she got into it. What had begun moments before as a humiliating assignment-a punishment-was now a primal urge she couldn’t resist. Swede bulldozed her face into Barocca’s femininity and the black beauty began pushing back, her body’s sexual instincts taking over autonomically.
Puma grabbed the legs of the bench to steady herself. Barocca reached overhead and grasped the barbell supports so she wouldn’t fall off the narrow pad as passion moved her to buck and writhe. Her moans grew louder as her orgasm approached until with a-growl?-the brazen Brazilian roared out her climax and flooded Puma’s face with her sweet nookie nectar. Swede swallowed what got in her mouth and lapped up what was left on the Latina’s labia.
After a minute the cougar commanded, “Again!” She swung her legs over Puma’s shoulders and crossed her ankles on the blonde’s back. Puma was on her hands and knees like a lapdog slurping furiously at the savory snatch into which she’d buried her snout. Barocca suppressed a giggle as Swede’s tongue tickled her sensitive femininity. Giggling would spoil the mood and shatter the dominatrix-submissive relationship that had evolved. “Further,” the Bombshell ordered. “Stick it in further.”
Puma couldn’t extend her tongue any more, so she slid one of her long fingers to satisfy her demanding mistress. “Good. More.” Puma pushed in a second-a third finger and pumped them vigorously. Barocca bubbled forth with hot lava that drenched the blonde’s hand and dripped onto the carpet. Again, Swede cleaned up the spillage with a singular sense of purpose.
The cameramen had moved in for close-ups while striving to steady themselves and their straining hard-ons that threatened to burst through their trunks. Richard stood on Puma’s left, focusing on his woman’s ecstatic eruptions. Kevin knelt on Puma’s right, catching every lap of her cunt-craving dash for the gash. He also knew that Barocca would claim him after the fight and would put him to work serving her insatiable sexual appetites.
“Enough,” Barocca decreed, “…for now. You’ve learned your lesson. We’ll all return to our rooms and clean up. Kevin, I’ll summon you when I’m ready.” With a heel to the shoulder, Barocca shoved Puma away. She rose from the bench, wrapped her naked body in her robe, collected her bikini parts, and strode out the door.
Puma Swede wiped her mouth and jaw with the back of her hand, got her robe and bikini, and followed suit. The cameras quit rolling and the men grinned at each other in anticipation of the victory sex and consolation sex to follow. No, there’d be no more video; what they already had would be quite sufficient. They hurried to catch up with their respective ladies and help them wash off the effects of this stunning battle.
About two hours later, Richard knocked on Puma’s door to deliver the message that Kevin should report immediately to Barocca’s cabaña. He didn’t have to be told twice, and was out the door in a flash. Richard turned his attention to Puma, lying face-down across her bed. “You look like you could use a massage after that mauling.” She smiled as he closed and locked the door behind him.
BACK TO THE CELEBRITIES
TO BAROCCA 
