Viktor, her competitive childhood frenemy

Tilda’s groin exploded in agony as she felt someone give her a full-**** crotch kick from behind. The assailant’s toes sank into her **** clit, and Tilda was lifted into the air for a few seconds. As soon has her feet touched the ground, he doubled over, cupping herself and shrieking in agony.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!”

The poor Swede collapsed to the ground, her ass raised in the air and her face buried in the hot sand. After a few moments of pain-induced lucidity, Tilda got enough wits about her to turn around and face her attacker, hands still wedged between her thighs. She saw a broad-chested teen around her age, with blue eyes and black hair. His skin seemed slightly tanned, a tattoo of an exotic bird adorning his left bicep, and he was dressed in a pair of navy-blue beach shorts. What stood out most about him was the beaming, self-satisfied grin etched on his face.

“Viktor?” She breathed out in surprise and confusion.

“Hi Tilda, surprised to meet you here.”

He grabbed her arm and helped her up none too gently, not an ounce of regret in his eyes for the vicious low blow. Tilda pulled her arm away with a glare.

“Shouldn’t you be back in Sweden?”

“My family is on vacation to the States,” Viktor laughed. His accent was noticeably thicker than our heroine’s. “I saw you and wanted to say hello with our usual greeting.”

Tilda winced, both from the pain of her still-throbbing groin and the returning memory that a solid kick up the cunt was indeed Viktor’s typical way of saying hello to her.

Viktor had been Tilda’s childhood friend back in Sweden, before her family had immigrated to the US. Well… friend is stretching it. They were more like frenemies. Viktor’s competitiveness mixed with Tilda’s stubbornness to create several afternoons of foot races, roughhousing, staring matches and other juvenile dick-measuring competitions. Viktor was eager to prove himself better at almost everything, and Tilda’s dignity meant she could never take a challenge lying down. Although… lying down was often the position Tilda found herself in after their contests.

Viktor was shameless when it came to winning by any means. The phrase ‘by hook or crook’ was like gospel to him, and he was very good when it came to exploiting his opponent’s weaknesses.

You can see where this is going.

Viktor found that a good kick in the pussy right before a race would make it difficult for Tilda to run. He loved kneeing her in the cunt lips and punching her developing breasts during a match of roughhousing. So many times, Tilda was left gasping for breath on the floor after a string of dirty tricks and low blows. He wedgied her with her own leotard before a swim race, twisted her nips during a chicken fight, and even pinched her crotch painfully till she lost at staring contests. Even when he won, he liked to give her a good smack in the crotch to make her squirm. His own little version of a victory lap.

And if the blond beauty didn’t want to compete with him? The young man could easily convince her by applying a bit of pressure. Specifically, pressure on her privates via wedgie until she was complacent.

Speaking of wedgies, while Tilda was reminiscing over dreaded memories, her friend-slash-rival snuck behind her and gave the back of her bikini bottom a sharp tug.

“Eep!” She squealed as her tight underwear became even tighter around her clit.

“What was that for!” The young woman picked her wedgie, indignant at Viktor’s ensuing giggle.

“I just wanted to hear your girly scream once again,” the brunette boy exclaimed. Tilda grumbled in response. She straightened her posture and picked the wedgie before crossing her arms under her budding breasts.

“I see you haven’t changed at all,” she spoke in her native language.

“And neither has the sensitivity in your weak spot,” he responded in kind. His vocabulary and diction naturally sounded more refined when he switched to Swedish. “Now follow me, we have the whole day to spend together.”

Tilda would have said that she’d rather fuck herself with a sandpaper dildo, if not for the fact that Viktor had dashed forward and grabbed her breasts with both hands.

“You’ve gotten so much bigger,” he mused appreciatively. The sudden contact from her (admittedly handsome) rival made Tilda the slightest bit aroused. This didn’t go unnoticed by Viktor.

Without warning he grabbed her protruding nipples. He gripped them tight between two fingers, causing her to yelp.

Not the tits! Not the tits! Not the tits!, Tilda thought.

Viktor began leading Tilda to another part of the beach, practically dragging her by the mammaries as he talked about a few games they could play against each other. Tilda knew that it would be much less painful for her lady parts if she just indulged in whatever games he wanted to play. She could only hope that her tits, groin and sanity would all remain intact by the end of the day.