Hawkeye International Boudoir Boudoir AHW Bout

Posted by HISC on 7/24/2011, 11:35 am

With Kristen taking up Claire’s bundle instead of the eager cracker conglomerate’s shareholders, Kreuk hovers over a spreadeagled Mishy, lightly tapping a glistening cheek. With Williams blinking back to semi-consciousness, Kris shuffles her to a couch and continues the job of working Mish out of her Danes-induced stupor. With Kristin giving the hi-sign that Mishy will be OK, the next combatants move to the middle of the apartment house jungle and the crowd turns their eyes away from the dispatched blonde to the two newest Consortium acquisitions. The exotic little minx Mila is a dazzler in a red push-up and panties, dark hair wild and flowing . The Oscar winner Natalie Portman is a classic in black corset, panties, black silk stockings and garters, long locks swept into a loose ponytail.

Later…

Perhaps shying away from the bed that had sealed Michelle’s doom, Mila has a wincing Nat’s back pressed tightly against a bedroom wall. Both women gleam from the accumulation of perspiration, but it’s the hard work of Kunis paying dividends as she has a weakened Natalie’s arm high above her head, pinned there by Mila’s hands at her wrists. Nose to adorable nose and chest to heaving chest, the Ukrainian lifts a knee into Natalie’s paunch to quiet her struggles.
Portman slumps with a guttural ‘MWUUUH’, her eyes going wide as the cuties’ beaks share an Eskimo kiss. With the starch in Natalie’s body removed, Mila moves one of her arms down, keeping both Nat’s wrists cuffed with the remaining set of fingers. She then chugs away with short clipping kidney punches just above where Portman’s garter attaches to her panties, Nat’s body collapsing around the impact time and time again until she’s a slinky little comma.

Later…

Having moved to the recliner, Mila’s given Nat a seat, if an unwanted one. Portman, stuffed in the oversized black leather chair has Mila in her lap, the exotic little cutie’s legs wrapping around her midsection. Kunis offers Portman a little scissoring payback on Michelle’s behalf, squeezing away Indian-style around Nat’s trim tummy. But it simply isn’t enough to see Natalie’s face reflecting the growing knots in her ribs and back.

Mila snakes her arms around Natalie’s noggin, front sleeper style, and pulls the Oscar winner’s flawless features forward. Nat tries to keep her face jug-free by placing her hands on Mila’s shoulders, but Kunis forces her way through the defenses and buries Natalie’s nose and lips into her ‘pushed-up’ cleavage, giving Nat a healthy taste of Ukrainian cooking. Mila provides Portman’s mug a good scrubbing, enjoying the soft tugs for breath as much as the mumbles emerging from her bosom, not to mention Natalie’s wide eyes bouncing frantically, just above the smothering.

Later still…

The fight has moved to the plush shag favored by so many of the Consortium executives, but it’s Natalie in charge. Mila is stretched out on her chest, flat to the carpet, arms extended in front of her, clawing away, trying to escape her ‘rider’. Natalie straddles Mila’s waistline, having regained her composure and some of the regal air of Hollywood ‘royalty’. She’s reached back with one arm, having collected one of Mila’s tawny legs. Kunis’ ankle is caught in the crook of Portman’s elbow and she’s hauled the stem forward in a makeshift single-leg crab that is causing Mila all kinds of hurt. Her opposite set of fingers are buried in Mila’s dark tresses, Nat having forced Mila’s face into the shag.
It’s now Natalie’s turn for a scrubbing, but unlike her turn in the soft satiny breasts of her foe, Portman uses Mila’s adorable features as a mop, swishing her head from one side to another, the abrasive fibers drawing yelps of pain and streams of Russian cursing from the squirming, but well-controlled Mila. Nat draws Kunis’ head back with a handful of chocolate locks, showing off Mila’s reddened visage, then thumps her forehead into the floor.

“This is a family show,” Natalie pronounces, “no bad language.”

Finally…

Oh that super king-sized bed…apparently it can’t be avoided when the endgame comes a callin’. The blanketless mattress jumps as a bouncing Natalie straddles a starfished Mila, this time across her tummy. She ‘hops’ up and down, thrusting her taut little derriere into Mila’s weakened midriff time and time again, Kunis jackknifing as she grunts and groans, leaden arms at her sides, energy sapped from the late rush of the Best Actress.

Done gutting Mila, Natalie slides her sweat-slickened body to Mila’s then downward until her cheek rests on Mila’s aching belly. Natalie grapevines Mila’s left leg with her stems, then moves her hands into the inner side of her foe’s right knee. Shimmying her body to perpendicular with the exhausted Kunis, Portman stretches Mila’s legs wide, wider, widest.

At first biting her lip, Mila’s angle becomes so pronounced, she shrieks at Natalie, demanding she stop, but a determined Nat, tired of talk Mila is pushing her down the flyweight ladder, seems to be taking the exhibition very seriously. She drives Mila to a full set of splits until a sobbing Kunis can take it no longer, slapping the mattress in a staccato beat and shouting out an “I QUIT” that draws a groan from the crowd who want more of the show.

However, a satisfied Natalie releases immediately, wipes her forehead and rolls to her back, drawing in deep breaths with the slight smile of a pooped winner. The defeated Mila is left to massage her inner thighs, slowly drawing her glossy, tawny legs back to a reasonable angle.


Editor’s note: With the 2-0 sweep of Danes/Portman over Williams/Kunis and no tiebreaker necessary. It seems we’ll have to set the two losers upon each other sometime in the near future to determine who has the worst night of all.