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10 December 2005 Dani Fishel vs Jenny O'Dell

Page history last edited by Archer844 12 years, 7 months ago

 

Private Sauna Fight

 

Pt 1:

 

Originally posted by Simguy on 12/10/2005 2:37 pm

 

Britney had told Jenny there’s be moments like these.

 

“She’s thick,” Britney had said. Surf crashed in the distance—a sea breeze cooled the deck as dusk closed it. “And she’s quick. She never REALLY fought a boxing match under 120 pounds, I can guarantee you that. You don’t want to underestimate her.”

 

“You keep saying that,” Jenny grinned, blowing on licorice tea—white cup hot in both hands. “She’s a loud mouth little runt, that’s what she is. Hasn’t had her ass kicked in a while, so she’s getting brave.”

 

“Suit yourself,” Britney had said, not joining in Jenny’s jovial mood. “Don’t say I didn;’t warn you.”

 

***

Jenny groans, her torso welded to Dani’s as Fishel crushes O’Dell close in the belly to belly bearhug. Jenny’s eyes shut tight, lips curled back from clenched teeth—her hands pull at damp locks tight to Dani’s scalp, just above her ears. Fishel grunts as she pulls the bigger woman up onto her pelvis, supporting Jenny’s weight on her belly, feeling the heft of Jenny’s breasts atop hers. “I’m in snug,” Dani thinks and grits her teeth against the hair pull. Jenny groans again and writhes in Dani’s grip, hating the feel of Fishel’s pudgy-hot flesh against hers.

 

Steam rises from the sauna: every breath the girls take slides sultry down the throat, the air stifling, heavy on the skin. Blue/white check tile; a three-tiered step ledge along the north wall—it’s a favourite celebrity locale for such encounters. Dani wears her navy bandeau bikini with big baby blue polkadots and bra straps: makes her feel strong and sporty. Jenny’s in a pink sturdy-bottomed number—won more than her fair share of fights in it.

 

The hairpull’s loosening Dani’s grip, pulling her head back: she slides her arms out past Jenny’s ribcage and ducks down, anticipating O’Dell’s big right hand slap. Jenny misses over the top and feel Dani wrapping g her up around the waist, bundling back hard into the wall. Jenny’s back hits with a wet slap and Dani’s right on her, pushing the ribcage upright and burying a right hand thick and short to tummy. O’Dell breath barks past her lips, her face clenching in taut reaction t the body shot. Once agin her hands seek out the hair at Dani’s temples, pulling it back to expose Dani’s shiny face as Fishel goes to work.

 

Dani jams away, pushing a right hand into Jenny’s belly, pushing the left hand in, palming Jenny’s hips and flattening her against the wall. Jenny’s hurt, trying to rally, can’t get herself going and she’s starting to realize what Dani’s all about. “She’ll get on your chest and she won’t let up,” Britney had predicted. “Jenny, you’ve got to hurt her—

Punch her if you have to. You can’t let her get on top of you and start working.”

 

Dani’s fist/forearm: wet and slappy against Jenny’s tanned tummy. O’Dell’s breath a hot, moist pant, chuffing past her lips. Sometimes Dani will just ride her left palm on Jenny’s right hip, stabilizing the blonde for rugged rights in the breadbasket. Sometimes Dani will ride the left hand higher—get it on Jenny’s shoulder—then drift the blonde short, muscular right hands to the chest. Dani follows through with her shoulder , putting her back and body into these blows: Jenny’s feeling them—suffering. But she’s had enough of Fishel’s bullying.

 

Clapping her hands behind Dani’s neck, Jenny pulls, spins, twists Dani’s back to the wall, reversing position. She slides Dani’s head into the crook of the left arm, locking her up tight, breathing through pursed lips as she walks Dani off the wall, the, still riding her left across Dani’s back, Jen stands I front of Fishel and drift her short-arm right on the jaw; plenty of forearm on follow through. Fishel gobbles it slackjawed, stunned, and Jenny’s able to re-cradle her in the left arm, reposition her, then let her have another.

 

And another.

 

Dani finally reels away from the blows, shaking her head, staggering wobbly butt with her back to Jenny as O’Dell breathes deep. “That’s more like it,” Jenny thinks, lips hardening into a tight line o her pretty face. “Time to get busy.”

 

Jenny’s feet slap against the tile as she walks Dani down, reaching for the shorter girl’s shoulder to turn her around. But Dani’s quick, resilient—she turns all right, ducks and gets around Jenny while wrapping up her middle, repurchasing Jenny’s waist with a grinding hug. Hoisting, Dani arches her back, lifting Jenny up off her toes. O’Dell grunts in disbelief, her buttocks spooning into Dani’s tummy, her back sealed tight along Dani’s quivering torso. Big, beefy clenches—Dani working the thick of Jenny’s ribcage below the breadline. It’s brawny and it’s showy—Dani can’t keep Jenny up there for long. She releases jen, pushing her in the back, looking to disengage.

 

O’Dell stagers forward, turns at the wall, eyes glaring. She stalks to her right, li9fting her hands to lock up collar-and-elbow, but Dani’s got other plans. Fishel fakes the hook-up, ducks, sneaks in behind again and gets another hug. Doesn’t lift Jenny this time: she wants control, not punishment, Fishel clamps lower on the body, fists gripping underneath Jenny’s belly button, right cheek resting flat against Jenny’s sweaty-tacky back. O’Dell grunts, hands pushing down on Dani’s wrists and blonde grits her teeth in frustration.

 

Dani’s in no hurry. She knows how to lock a girl up from behind and ride her. Jenny wanders around, pushing down at wrists, trying to turn herself around, trying to snare Dani’s head in a side headlock. Frustration mounts; time passes. O’Dell’s brow frowns and her lips pout as she blunders around the room, Dani grafted onto her back like an unwanted appendage Jenny stops to press her hands against a wall at one point, breathing hard, face wincing. And finally, Jenny O’Dell sinks to one knee.

 

“Don’t let her take you down,” Britney had said. “Keep her on her feet and wear her out. She’s going to be a bundle if she can ground.”

 

Big smile Dani: hard working smile Dani. She maintains the hug doggy style as Jenny goes to all fours, digging her chin into Jenny’s back to add to the torrent. The suddenly: release. O’Dell’s head lifts, pained eyes drowsy: she never even suspects Dani’s first axe-handle smash to the back.

 

Splattering impact of clasped fists smashed onto shiny back., Dani on her knee, face glowing with triumph—again and again she bashes down, lifting her hands high above her head to pound at Fortress Jenny. O’Dell cries out in shock, eyes shut, mouth open in complaint. She shudders—the blows sending shockwaves through her torso—but Jenny’s too strong to flatten. Dani licks her lips and shuffles on her knees to attack Jenny’s right flank, reaching in between the legs with both arms, cinching up that right thigh, locking up tight, putting a shoulder into Jenny’s side and driving her to her hip.

 

A writhing tangle of bicycling legs and squirming bodies, but Dani’s on top, body-surfing WEEEEE! On Jenny with a wide grin.

 

Dani’s hands pull and clutch Dani’s shoulder drives in; Dani’s legs push and push. Jenny’s on her back.

 

Jenny’s jammed in against the join between floor and wall: Dani’s got Jenny’s leg up and over. O’Dell sobs in outrage—her magnificent buttocks thrust up, her shoulders on hot tile, her legs up and over and her knees tight against the top of her head. Blood rushes to Jenny’s face as she’s all cramped up and Dani rises to her knees, putting all her weight on the rump of her foe, cramming Jenny into the wall and floor. “YEAH!” Dani shouts, voice tinny and muffled in the steamladen air, but Jenny gets the point.

 

O’Dell wriggles, O’Dell writhes, but she can’t unfold herself. Dani’s jammed her I there good and snug, and Fishel’s got long, slow plans in mind.

 

O’Dell/Fishel/Sauna Pt. 2

 

Originally posted by Simguy on 12/10/2007, 2:39 p,.

 

Get a big girl upended, and let her own body wear her down—that’s Dani’s philosophy. She’s up on her knees, keeping her weight in Jenny’s raised posterior, helping to crush down on the sagging blonde. O’Dell’s breath is laboured, agonized, and as Dani shifts a little to her githt—things get a whole lot worse for Jenny.

 

Dani in close with her body on Jenny, draws back her left arm and pounds home a closed fist to Jenny;s inverted ribs. Thick, wet, clapping of fist on meat.

 

SPAK!

 

SPAK!

 

SPAK!

 

SPAK!

 

Dani just working, fitting the fist in—always, always conscious to keep her weight on Jenny and refuse O’Dell any wiggle room. Dani digs at jenny a spell, then rests—her hands, her chest, all her body weight pushing down on Jenny’s backside.

 

“Give?” Dani chirps. She doesn’t expect Jenny to capitulate, but just being in position to ask draws a throaty moan of hate from O’Dell. “More punches then,” Dani says, and immediately delivers in her promise.

 

When Jenny’s weak—when she’s softened and whimpering, Dani releases, standing and pushing Jenny’s legs down to lay the blonde out on her back. O’Dell’s chest shudders with wracking sobs, her lips pouting as she tries to shake off the punishment. She sees spots and the air is so hot, so cloying. Again, she’s so hurt, she never sees Dani sit down heavily into exposed breadbasket—big mischievous smile in place as she lands, slides off tummy with a meaty thud, then rises to snap her trunks back into place. Standing above Jenny, hands at hips, Dani taunts: “Not so big now, huh Jenny? Not so tuff. You know who you sound like right now? You sound like Katie Holmes. Do you have any idea what I’d do to Katie Holmes in here?”

 

Jenny’s head lolls side to side—she rolls  to her left: got to get off the wall. She rises to her knees, then Dani helps her the rest of the way up, reaching over Jenn’s back to heave her up by the torso.

 

And Jenny jerks the left elbow into Dani’s sternum, drawing a shout of pain from Fishel. With Dani stunned, Jenny reaches behind the girl’s head and lifts a beefy right thigh into Fishel’s unsuspecting gut—sitting the muscle into Fishel’s pudgy little paunch and stooping her forward. Big right handed European uppercut—the meat of Jenny’s bicep looping up under Dani’s chin and spinning her around. Once again, Dani reels away, shaking her head to clear it: Jenny walks her down from behind, eyes shiny with hate.

 

Jenny can hug, too, and she proves it, slipping in behind Dani and hoisting her high up onto her belly with a reefing tug. Fishel groans, hands light at Jenny’s fists, legs kicking freely out front as O’Dell pours it on. Setting Dani down, Jenny maintains the gut-wrench, her chin out over Dani’s shoulder as Fishel hunches forward. Licking salty lips, Jenny hustles Dani over to the three-tiered seating ledges and pushes her down. Fishel sits up pretty, eyelashes fluttering. Lips parted: she knows it’s Jenny’s turn and there is nothing to do but suffer.

O’Dell’s left side throbs from Dani’s monotonous work against the wall, and the pain drives Jenny to vengeance. Left hand holding Dani by hair close to scalp: right hand pounding down again and again to forehead. It’s a devastating assault from a true big woman and poor Dani’s dazed. Fishel reclines her back against the second ledge, arms outstretched across, staring dreamily up into punishment. Fishel sits hurt, hands palms up beside her thighs as Jenny keeps up the workmanlike pace, With Dani’s head ringing and eyes glassy, Jenny moves in to finish, Placing her left knee on the ledge for balance, Jenny slides arms in around Dani’s head and attempts the smother: a fight winning maneuver in a sauna and Fishel knows it.

 

The close-in fighting on the bottom ledge is bitter, writhing, and intense. Jenny struggles to fold Dani’s face tight to jug, sealing her off from air: Dani pushes, wriggles, and twists to free herself from those bulging mounds. Jenny’s on top and on control, but she can’t fasten: Dani’s too squirmy, too strong and compact, always able to shove her head in under O’Dell’s armpit or squirm away to the side.

 

It’s exhausting work and it can’t last. Eventually, stymied, Jenny sits beside Dani at the ledge, both vixens weeping for air, eyebrows high, heads lolling back. Hair tumbles down in soggy tangles across both sets of breasts, curling and frizzing in the humid air. Girls might be friends enjoying a steam together, Dani on the left, Jenny on the right, They might be, but they aren’t. Chests heave, throats are bared as heads loll back, revealing trickle-tracks of sweat.

 

And Dani rallies first.

 

Fishel licks her lips, lifts her left hand, gets the elbow firm and beefy into Jenny’s belly. Dull groan, Jenny: she pitches forward, hugging at herself, stooped forward over her legs as she sits there.

 

Dani goes to work.

 

She’s got some headpunching to do: call it payback. She pulls Jenny to her feet by her hair: with Jenny on the floor and Dani standing on the bottom ledge, Dani can pound down onto blonde scalp with devastating force.

 

Jenny stares bleakly, mouth open: Dani’s pounding away to the forehead, big, pro-style blows, or pulling Jenny in close and lavishing the blonde’s upperback with forearms. Jenny’s body sways on the spot, controlled by Dani’s left hand grip on the hair between punches.

 

Mission accomplished, Dani pulls Jenny forward, sits her on the bottom ledge. Dani sits on the second ledge, legs apart, Jenny inbetween them—and Dani goes to work.

 

Left hand holds Jenny flat across the forehead as Dani pounds away righty—big looping smashes against Jenny’s face and chest as blonde sits stunned and taking. Jenny’s lips pout, working for sound that never comes—her eyelashes fluttering. Unconsciously, Jenny’s arms drape over Dani’s sturdy thighs as Fishel keeps working, hammer and tongs. The beefy smack of Dani’s fist and forearm sounds out on Jenny like a baseball bat on wet clay. Jenny just lolling, sitting there heavily soaking up the blows.

 

They’re going to ask if I underestimated her, Jenny thinks drowsily—the words sloshing across her mind in disconnected fashion. I don’t think I did…I don’t think…

 

Dani sits back, scootches Jenny snug between the legs and scissors her up around the ribs. Bending forward, Dani clamps home a sleeperchoke: left arm snaking around Jenny’s throat to clutch Dani’s right bicep; right hand cupped atop Jenny’s sweat-soaked scalp. The warmth of Dani’s grip brings Jenny around just enough: O’Dell knows her predicament, aware of what’s being done to her.

 

Feebly, Jen paws at the air, whimpering now.

 

Blonde hair trapped in Dani’s brawny hold bows out around Jenny’s cheeks, framing her head in a soft, damp cloud.

 

Dani grits her teeth in a fierce grin, knowing that all she’s got to do is stay strong.

 

Jenny tries to roll over her left hip but Dani’s legs keep her in check: Jenny’s right arm extends plaintively, fingers outstretched. Dani eases her back down, cinches up just a little tighter.

 

Jenny reaches up, pulls at Dani’s shoulders, then pulls at the arm across her throat. O’Dell’s eyebrows arch high, eyes closed. Feet push at wet tile on the floor.

 

Dani gently rocks with Jenny trapped, pouring it on like extra heat, letting her arms and legs and the sauna itself use the last of Jenny up.

 

***

 

“Been a long time,” Britney says: royal blue sweatshirt, matching stretch leggings. She crosses her arms with worry. “Maybe we should do something?”

 

“Give them time,” Cat Bell says: jeans and white tank top. Around them, the small, but exquisite spa facility: regulation pool, whirlpool, Romanesque tiles and pillars. “Neither one is going to go easy.”

 

The door to the sauna opens, and Dani steps out: shaking, pale. Behind her, Jenny sits on the floor, legs outstretched, her head slumped to her right shoulder.

 

“It’s over,” Dani mumbles, voice frail. “You better get her. She’s hurt.”

 

Reposted by Archer 7/20/09

 

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