Two women smashed their breasts together with a brutal thrust and bowed over in agony. When they straightened up they were hurt, but even angrier. They began to fling their swollen teats back and forth through each other with all of their remaining strength.

The enchanting song of the Western Meadowlark is so compelling as to be addictive. That complex concert of avian arias has enticed me out to the craggy river canyons of Arizona on countless occasions. In order to encounter this mercurial diva in the wild, one must often spend entire days hiking about in the sparse forests, listening for its lovely calls. But what time can be better spent I posit; except for one special day, when I eagerly put aside the warbling beauties for very special beauties of another kind.

It was midweek, Wednesday, of an early summer morning. I had been following the song of a Meadowlark, but I could not spot him. I worked my way to the lip of a small, steep-sided, sandstone canyon, in which a stream flowed into a pond about fifty feet long with a short beach of sand, and then flowed out again. Two paths came down the same side of the opposite cliffs, right onto the alluvial beach. From the opposite side, where I was ensconced, there was no way to the bottom.

I scanned the trees above the canyon with my trusty old Zeiss 10 x 40 roof prism binoculars. They are so clear and bright that I can spot anything with them. And wow, what I spotted. Moving along the path was a truly sexy, blonde beauty, with thick, flaxen tresses that she had gathered up on her head and pinned. She seemed about 5’ 6” tall, slinky and lithe, but with huge breasts, unfettered by a bra. Her heavy teats rolled and bounced in voluptuous rhythm as she padded along. They strained at the yellow T-shirt that molded around them. It was tied just below them; perhaps in an effort to restrain their immense undulations. Her yellow shorts were indeed short, and rode up along her butt as she progressed. Her face, in profile as I saw it, was lovely with a strong jaw line and deep nose. From the distance I could not see more detail. She carried a small bundle; mostly likely a towel and some lotion. The lovely vision of voluptuous sexuality was obviously heading for the pool below. The absence of a bra, and her mammary largess, enticed me to try to get as close as possible and perhaps enjoy one of nature’s treasures if she decided to bask in the nude. It was certainly worth an effort.

There seemed to be a cleft in my side of the cliff, where I could descend down to a thick pine tree that grew right out of the wall, where I would have a full view of the beach and part of the pool. I managed to find a seat on a jutting slab of rock that let me rest my binoculars on a tree limb for stability. Then I scanned the path for the marvelous, bosomy blonde. I could not spot her until I glassed over to the right and saw a figure on the opposite path; a voluptuous blonde wiggling down the opposite path. How could this be? My mind reeled for a moment. Then the stunning realization erupted in my mind that this was not the same blonde. She was wearing red shorts and a red and white T-shirt. But, Oh Lord, she had as equally huge and shapely breasts as the other blonde, and also wore no bra. She stalked along the path down to the pond, carrying a towel.

I could hardly believe my eyes. My fertile imagination instantly reeled with the possibilities of what might happen if both voluptuous beauties were heading down to the pond. They would have to meet, and then what would happen? The very thought of seeing both incredibly, busty blondes naked, almost unseated me from my perch. How would they react to each other? Were they sisters? Did they know that they were both about to meet, head on as it were, at the bottom of the canyon? I wished desperately that I was closer. My beloved Zeiss 10 x 40’s brought the two lovelies up close; but I was too far away to hear conversation clearly. I could see though. Indeed, I could see. And I was well hidden in the shade of the cleft in which I sat. I just knew those big, bright, Zeiss lenses were about to earn the exorbitant price I had paid for them so long ago!

I was quickly rewarded when the two, evidently unsuspecting, young women, with equally massive breasts, wiggled out onto the narrow sand beach and stopped suddenly as they confronted each other, only about twenty feet apart. I was certain now that they had not known of each other until that very moment. They stared at each other in what seemed total shock, and then they deliberately advanced slowly towards each other. Their heavy breasts rolled and quivered beneath the tight T-shirts. Their shapely legs flexed as they cautiously approached each other. Their flaxen hair was absolutely identical in color, and it was coifed up with a pin on their heads, as it would be if each had planned to bathe in the shallow pond. But now what would happen? “How can those two incredible women meet and not be so jealous that something fantastic will happen?” I murmured aloud.

For a few moments they circled each other, gaping in shock and surprise at each other. A conversation ensued as they ambled and posed with their huge breasts almost touching. I could hear their soft voices, but not what they said. They pushed their huge udders together and held them there for a few moments, and suddenly both girls stepped back, quickly pulled their T-shirts up over their heads and tossed them aside. Their massive teats pulled up with them, then fell heavily and bounced onto their lithe chests. Heaven! The two beauties sized up each other, arching and swaying back and forth to give each other, and me, a good look. They were proudly showing off their mammary treasures. I wondered if any photons of light had ever been reflected off such a scene as this, to be caught by the ogling eyes of a stunned birdwatcher. That confounded Meadowlark was singing away just above me in the tree; but my mind, and my eyes, were down in the canyon on those two naked women, who were now lightly stroking their nipples as they rolled their heavy, fleshy breasts back and forth.

One girl had breasts that poured out in firm roundness onto her chest. They were almost perfectly oval in shape; crowned with thick, amber nipples. Her rival had breasts that flowed down more and became quite pointed. They were not quite as broad but they were longer and just as deep; and her nipples were lighter but equally thick and taut. Thank your Zeiss! I could see it all, just as if I was standing five feet from them.

Pointed Breasts angled into her rival and laid her shapely left breast right alongside the girl’s massive right breast. Her breast was indeed a little longer, but was not as broad. Still, my eager eyes told me that these two, obviously jealous nymphs were equal in mass and size. They rolled themselves around to face each other and the fleshy glands pressed together and swelled up. This was getting more intense. But now I could not tell them apart. They were so identical in every other way, that with those unique breasts mashed together I could not tell who was who; until I noticed that the beauty with the more rounded, oval breasts, the first one I had seen, had a thick, braided tress, six inches or so long, at the top of her coiled hair. I had not noticed it before, but now it was quite obvious.

I could only conjecture what emotions were coursing through their minds now. I wondered what it must feel like to have thick, taut, jutting nipples pressing together within the firm masses of their structured breasts. The sexual sensations and the intense jealousy they must be experiencing, must combine in a way that only they could comprehend. They rolled their breasts together slowly, as if each woman was deliberately trying to feel how firm and dense the other was.

After leaning into each other for a time and talking in low voices, the two, blonde visions stepped back and unbuttoned their shorts, pulled them down and stepped out of them, and their sandals. Now I knew something special was going to happen; and I was going to see it. It was unlikely that anyone else would come along on a Wednesday, this time of year. So these two bosomy gladiators would have nature’s arena to themselves; except for an immensely elated birdwatcher hovering above. I knew something physical was in the offing. I really doubted that they were going to sink into the sand in a passionate embrace. Nor did they. Instead, they picked up their towels, unfurled them, took bottles from them and began to rub lotion all over their huge breasts. Once satisfied as to the absolute, unctuous coverage of those swelling glands, they wiped their hands all over their bodies and thighs to dry them, and wiggled out to the center of the sandy beach and faced each other again. Their taut udders glistened in the sun as the two young beauties paused for a moment. Time stood still for me as they gathered their courage to launch a violent comparison of their treasured breasts that I now knew was coming; a one way fight they knew only one of them could win. I thought that surely some great quantum conundrum must have assembled diverse atoms in such wonderful groups, and then brought them together in time and space, in the form of these two, naked blondes, to resolve some arcane and titanic, universal dispute. How else could two gorgeous women have been so much alike, and then have met where they could not refuse to fight to the finish with those huge, wonderful breasts? Or maybe it was all serendipity and they were just to insanely jealous to walk away.

On some tacit signal, the two naked girls stepped into each other and carefully mashed their huge breasts together. They lightly embraced each others’ lower backs, and then leaned back enough so they could slide their breasts around until they felt their nipples pressing evenly. That was all I could imagine as to why they moved them over each other so carefully and then fixed them in place; to get their taut nipples touching so the masses of those shapely breasts would confront each other in the most equal manner possible. Once they were satisfied with their contact, they leaned together and embraced. They seemed to suddenly melt into each other. Their bellies, thighs pressed together. Their voluptuous udders swelled, flattened together and rolled up on their arching chests. I heard both women grunt and exhale. From my vantage point above them I could see how their broad boobs swelled and crushed together evenly. Several times the two women pressed tightly, squeezing and mashing their huge teats into each other. They never actually separated between crushes. Their quivering breasts were captured between their arms and could only swell upward on their chests. They would flow up and become taut, and glisten in the sun as they reached their limits of expansion. The girls would groan softly and exhale through their teeth, until they relaxed and their contending teats subsided for a moment. Then they leaned forward again. Their arms tensed and their breasts billowed up once more, to resist each other equally. I imagined that they had initiated their fight in such a careful manner in order to feel each other out; to see if one would be firmer, and her rival intimidated enough to retreat. They seemed to be looking right into each others’ eyes as they smashed their breasts into each other, and neither beauty retreated.

After a considerable time they shifted their arms up to each others’ necks and resumed pressing together. Now, their chins rested on each others’ shoulders and their breasts were mashing from the top instead of the bottom. They embraced tightly and their chests and shoulders seemed to melt together. Beneath, I could see their oval udders spread out to the sides as they leaned together and worked their shoulders in circles. I heard slightly louder grunts and hisses as the two contending blondes rhythmically pumped breasts into breasts. They both seemed to be intimidated enough so as not to press the issue too violently as yet. They were content to work on each other slowly. I imagined that each women felt equally firm breasts mashing against her own, and needed time to assess how the fleshy boobs felt against each other. They squashed their breasts and twisted back and forth, thrusting and pumping. I marveled at how naturally they fought with their huge breasts. I wondered how many times each beauty had done this before?

The intimately violent contact of their thick firm breasts caused their guarded jealousies to boil and seeth. They grew more bold and determined with time. They began to crush their yielding breasts back and forth, through each other. The taut, swelling glands slid easily but flattened and distorted each other as they passed. I could see one of each girl’s breasts pop out of the undulating flesh and regain its shape each time they slid past each other. Their thrusts back and forth were more violent than their embraces had been. Their breasts were taking more punishment now. Some point in patience and perhaps fear had been passed, and their struggle became increasingly violent. The willing duelists thrust viciously back and forth, mashing breasts and crushing them flat, and flinging them out of the contending masses, again and again. I could hear louder groans of pain now as they two nude nymphs circled in the sand. I suddenly realized that I did not know which was which any more. I finally spotted the long braid of flaxen hair jutting like a topknot on one head and I knew the two naked fighters apart once again.

Not that it really mattered. There was no need yet to discern between them, because their bosomy duel was as yet, a complete deadlock. Neither identical beauty yielded an inch to the other as they thrust and jammed their distorted breasts back and forth. They were so much alike, and both so alluring, that I could not select a favorite. I could only watch in fascination, this increasingly brutal breast duel play out and see who survived intact.

The two blondes made a long, wild flurry of back and forth thrusts with their chests, crushing their surging breasts through each other. It lasted for several minutes, as if each beauty was trying to force her rival to retreat; but again, neither yielded. Instead they flung themselves apart with loud, guttural screams and stood for just a moment, cradling and massaging their huge breasts, and glaring at eachamassive teats rolled off to the side from the jolt of the fleshy collisions. Their shapely bags beat together audibly, crushing, flattening and bruising each other from countless blows. The two naked girls danced with violent grace across the sand, battering their breasts together and staggering each other, squealing and groaning as they fought. Yet neither confident beauty would yield an inch to the other. Each time one of them would stagger from a hard blow, she would rush back angrily and smack her rival’s breasts harder with her own. The pulpy, almost hollow sound of huge adipose glands beating together echoed relentlessy off the hard walls of the canyon into my astonished ears.

I could see with my lens that their breasts were swollen now; much bigger than they had been before the fighting began. They were taut and super-firm and would not yield much when the smashed together. They seemed to bounce off each other more than to sink in. Still the fight went on, with both naked vixens beating and flinging their breasts against each other with complete abandon. All the doubts and fears were subverted now, behind a vicious determination to fight and win. They stood toe to toe, belly to belly, and hurled their throbbing mammaries together, moaning unabashedly with every, brutal impact. I marveled that two such lithe and gracile young women could give and take so much violent pain together. Once again I thought of titanic forces marshaled in those delicate frames, desperately battling for some arcane supremacy. Then I realized that their physical, sexual jealousies, focused on their huge, treasured breasts pummeling each other viciously, were the most enormous, encompassing compulsions they could experience together. Thus the two enraptured beauties beat and smashed their huge udders in mindless conflict. Only complete, abject collapse would end this fight. There was no universal conflict here; just impetuous, visceral jealousies and overwhelming sexual enmities, that must be extinguished by bosomy defeat.

The two women smashed their breasts together with a brutal thrust and bowed over in agony. When they straightened up they were hurt, but even angrier. They began to fling their swollen teats back and forth through each other with all of their remaining strength. All the stops were out now, and I could hear the massive boobs slamming together with heavy thuds, accompanied by squeals of agony. They loosed a literal barrage of breasts on each other, standing flat footed and hurling their torsos back and forth. Their heavy taut udders had nowhere to go but to crush into each other or slide over and under as they passed. Suddenly one of them crashed into the sand from a hard blow. But she scrambled to her feet and hurled herself back at her rival. Six, vicious blows later the other beauty went down to the side. She fell onto her right knee and braced herself with her hand. She also leapt back to her feet and resumed slamming breasts with her wobbling rival. One more long, violent flurry of their fleshy udders and both women bowed over, clutching their bruised boobs.

When they finally managed to straighten up again, they stood briefly, gasping for breath and moaning aloud; still deadlocked physically and emotionally. For a moment they circled, uncertain and gathering their courage to resume fighting. One of them twisted her torso back to the right, and the other followed suit. For a moment they hesitated and tried to coordinate their violent intentions, but suddenly they flung their bodies back toward each other. Their huge, left breasts lifted off their chests and collided in mid air. They smacked together, flattened and then fell back, rolling and quivering as the two naked girls bent over in pain. They glared at each other and then flung their left breasts together again. From my angle above I could see what happened to the massive ovals as they smashed together. They crushed into each other and spread out, almost flat. They quivered and shook each other violently for a moment before falling away from each other. But in a few seconds the two, frantic girls had heaved them together again, to flatten and distort.

I lost count of the repetitions the two beauties made, slamming their fleshy, left udders together, side against side. As closely as I could peer with my powerful lens, I could see no difference in their breasts as they collided; no yielding or giving of either shapely gland. They flattened evenly at every collision, unless they were not aligned when they struck. Then one would slide over the other, and the two girls would stagger off balance. They were swinging so hard that they expected their heavy breasts to collide and stop their momentum.

Abruptly the fight almost ended. One of the beauties absorbed a terrific, accurate impact of their breasts and she simply collapsed into the sand on both knees. Had her rival kept her own feet the beaten beauty would have possibly surrendered. She fell heavily with a loud, guttural moan, and did not attempt to immediately rise. But just after she fell, the other blonde collapsed to her knees and the first to fall grabbed her. They screamed, rose up on their knees and slammed their incredibly punished breasts together repeatedly until they twisted over and fell to the ground. They locked up, arms gripping, hooked legs thrashing, and rolled over and over, back and forth in the sand. They thrust together, smashing breasts against breasts until they eventually lay side by side, exhausted and gasping for air. They were covered with sand and their heads faced away from me, so I could not tell them apart. They humped and thrust their breasts together, holding each other tight with arms and legs. For well over a minute they pumped their swelling breasts together in constant, willing rhythm, until one determined beauty began to gradually thrust her rival over. As she did so, she heaved her right leg up over her rival’s hip and with several powerful, pumping thrusts rolled onto her. They were squealing and moaning as they fought, but one voice now sounded more desperate and shocked. The blonde on top embraced her failing rival and heaved the entire weight of her upper body down upon her. Their huge udders surged together and smashed into each other. The winning beauty set up a slow, brutal rhythm, pounding her breasts down upon her failing rival's pliant udders. They spread out to the sides with every heavy impact. Suddenly the girl on the bottom released her own embrace and squealed out her surrender loudly enough that I heard it clearly.

“Stop, stop! No more, no more!” she begged; trying to pry her conqueror’s arms from their tight embrace. After two more smashing impacts the victor collapsed completely upon the loser and they lay in a voluptuous sprawl together in the sand. Their arms and legs were totally limp. Their bodies heaved, wracked with pain; gasping for breath. I could hear the loser sobbing in her shock and upset. Eventually the winner rose, with some effort, and sat up on her beaten foe. She arched and said something to the girl, who glared at her briefly, then rose up on her hands and sucked at the winner’s nipples. She pleasured each one in turn before collapsing again onto her back, sobbing and covering her face. The titanic battle of incredible breasts was over. The fight had been so close, but the resolution final beyond doubt.

Perhaps the universe had changed in some way. The entire world of the loser has certainly been crushed with her breasts. I wondered who had won. I had to know. As the victor staggered to her feet I saw it; the thick braid of hair, like a topknot on her head. The first blonde I had seen, in the yellow shorts, with the more rounded, oval breasts, had prevailed. Suddenly I had a heroine in this mighty drama; the beauty who’s breasts had been just a shade better than her rival’s. They had taken their bosomy duel to the utter limits and she had risen intact. I was in love.

I wanted to know something about this incredible woman. I thought to follow her back to the village where all the tourists stayed. But the distance around the canyon was just too far. Both girls began to dress, not looking at each other anymore. It was as if they were now in different worlds. Their conflict, their intimacy, was over. My heroine started up the path, albeit slowly, but I knew I could never catch up. Even the loser was finally making her way out of the canyon. So I resigned myself to having seen something so fantastic, and learned of two incredible women who were willing to take their personal jealousies to the very edge. There, one of them ultimately prevailed with her fabulous breasts by such a narrow, but well-defined margin that they would never meet again. I watched the winner of the fight mount the path and finally disappear over the edge. I wondered how many times she had fought with her huge, firm udders in the past; and how many more times she would defend her honor and jealousy with those fleshy treasures? Would she ever return to the little canyon to fight again? If she did, perhaps I would be waiting.