Trudy didn't fool around, either. She whipped away her tight T-shirt and there were those wonderfully familiar breasts, high and hard, bobbing stiffly, like cold Jello, waiting for me to take a spoonful. She put her hands on her hips and, thrusting her elbows back, she made those knobs push farther forward.
“Ha,” snorted Mary Ellen. “Even shoving clear down to your gut you can't make them come anywhere near to my size. Admit that all you've got is a couple of pimples. You could pop them and there'd be nothing left.”
Trudy was boiling and her eyes spat ice-blue fire at her tormentor. “You ungrateful bitch, talking to me like that. After all the fun we've had, after all the dates I've fixed up for you when you didn't want to sit home alone.”
Mary Ellen gasped. “Me sitting home alone? Make that you, honey pie. If I hadn't found you some friends you'd still be making out with Buddy here, your own brother, every night. Boy, talk about sick, she's it.” Mary Ellen said this last with her eyes on me, her thumb cocked toward Trudy.
Trudy started for her enemy, but again I came between them. “Please, young ladies, let us continue the talent show and perhaps a true winner will emerge.”
While I tried to cool them off Amy was playing games with the boys. She had them both down to their shorts and then, hands clasped, the three leaped into the pool with a series of thunderous splashes. They cavorted about, gasping at one another, and I imagined that many a cock, buttock and thigh were being pinched in their merriment.
Meanwhile, Mary Ellen was back on the job, opening buttons at her hip and then peeling back her bell-bottoms from her hips and tummy, letting the flap hang down. Slowly they went down until I was certain she wore nothing underneath. Once the pants passed her knees they dropped to the concrete and were kicked aside.
Again she posed for me and, while she had a belly that boasted a slight pot and her thighs were rather heavy, she was nevertheless in pleasing proportion and I could feel my body rouse itself further. It couldn't be too much longer before I must take one or the other of these young ladies-or both.
“All right?” she wanted to know, again thrusting those massive knockers.
“All right,” I had to admit. “A bit on the heavy side, but not unpleasantly so.
“A bit heavy,” Trudy was rasping, struggling with her shorts. Apparently the zipper in the middle of her buttocks was jammed. “She's built like a pregnant Army tank. Mount a gun on her and she could crash through any fortress.” Suddenly very sweet, she turned her back to me. “Could you help me with this, Mr. Brady? You're so strong.”
Mary Ellen's eyes rolled. “Oh, brother.”
I went along with her game, grasping the tab and pulling the thing down to the crack of her bottom. The white shorts peeled away from her plump cheeks like skin from an egg and at that moment I would have taken her over easy or over hard or even scrambled.
“There we are,” I breathed.
From over her shoulder she cooed, “Thank you.”
Her shimmy began then and after a minute they barely clung to her loins. She stopped, waiting, looking back at me in invitation. “Want to do the honors, Mr. B.?”
“May I?”
“Certainly you may.”
I plucked at her hips and the shorts dropped to Trudy's feet. Kicking like a placement expert, she lofted them to a point atop a bush. Lifting her chin to Mary Ellen, she cooed, “That, my dear, is show business, not an amateur act such as you put on.”. Mary Ellen was a fighter and she came right back, bumping against Trudy, her breasts like battering rams. “Why don't we have it out right now, Miss Flat Chest? I'll knock your brains out and then Mr. Brady and I can do what we both know we want to do.”
Trudy lips curled on one side and she didn't retreat an inch, instead thrusting her own chest against Mary Ellen's booming charge. “Come on, moose. I'll out-maneuver you until you won't know which end's up.”
They began their struggle and, from the pool, the others paused to watch. Slowly, as the contest developed, they emerged from the pool, dripping, the water spattering quietly on the concrete. Stealing a quick glance at the others, I saw that Amy hadn't been idle. Buddy and Johnny were rid of their shorts, their long dongs half hard and waving as they arced before their bodies.
Johnny was hung almost as well as the gigantic Buddy but, even though his frame was taller and larger, he couldn't quite match the over-all size of the king. They stood, side by side, apparently as friendly as ever, even though their girl friends were launching a battle filled with hate. This I was thankful for, because a fight between these two youngsters could mean real bloodshed. The girls, I believed, would provide action enough.
And so it turned out. As we watched Trudy leaped forward, her fists like pistons, and she caught Mary Ellen on the corner of the mouth. An instant later a trickle of blood appeared on her chin, just like in the movies.
Mary Ellen paused, her hand going to her chin and coming away red. She stared at the blood for a moment and then, turning to Alexander, who hovered nearby, the fur standing high on the back of his neck, she offered him her hand. He came forward at once and licked away the red, smacking his chops when he was finished.
Amy and I looked at one another and my wife hugged her breasts, a shudder ripping through her body. What had we started here, I wondered. Whatever it was, I knew it would be wise to put it to rest. I wanted the young people to quarrel, but I didn't want any eyes gouged out.
Trying to step between them, I put my hands out like a fight referee, but they wouldn't break. Mary Ellen thudded her hands down on my forearms, shoving them aside like they were jackstraws.
“Out of my way, Mr. Brady,” she warned. “No use your getting hurt.”
“Come on,” Trudy hissed, “stop the lecture and fight.”
Mary Ellen swung hard, but her aim was wild and she missed the target completely, whirling about until her back was to the agile Trudy. The little but strong blonde was on her like a cat, catching her from behind.
Her arms shot out and under Mary Ellen's armpits, snaking around her ribs to fasten on her ponderous breasts. Trudy's hands seemed like crickets on a pair of basketballs, so generous were Mary Ellen's knockers. Yet Trudy was able to get a firm grip, her hands covering each nipple as she hit right on target.
Mary Ellen's face contorted and she wanted to cry out, I knew, but she refused to make a sound. Instead she shoved her buttocks back hard, knocking Trudy off balance and the grip on the heavier girl's breasts was lost.
Again they faced each other and this time Mary Ellen jumped first, her knee shooting forward to catch Trudy in the pit of the stomach. She doubled over, gasping, her hands clutching her belly, and Mary Ellen moved closer, reaching under the bent form to attach her nails to Trudy's crotch. Her hands sank into the soft fur and she squeezed until tears filled Trudy's eyes.
That was enough for me and I got behind Mary Ellen wrapping my arm around her throat and straightening her. It was easy to lift her feet from the concrete and she lost her grip, coming away with me as I backed up several feet. Recovering, Trudy tried to rush forward, but the two boys each took an arm, restraining her.
Mary Ellen began to cool off, her tremendous breasts heaving less, their nipples losing some of their pointed look as her aroused blood coursed less vigorously. I let go of her and Amy joined me between the two girls.
“Let's quit this nonsense,” I demanded, “or the party will be off right now. You'll all be sent out of here never to return.” I looked both directions. “The decision is yours. Shake hands and be friends or go do your fighting somewhere else.”
They stood for perhaps three minutes before Trudy came forward, her hands out until Mary Ellen took them. “I'm sorry I'm such a bitch,” Trudy murmured.