MILK UDDERS, part 31 (Patreon)

It was as if time stood still. Three days after the life-changing event they had both privately experienced, the young busty milkmaids meet again. Melania immediately understood that the unexpected encounter at the Hotel Alpin Pflerschtal wasn’t at all fortuitous, since in Bianka’s bright eyes, behind pupils dilated with hatred, shone a certain malicious sparkle. There was a designed plan behind it, a spider’s web woven by the Austrian rival for her.

You bitch, what the fuck are you doing here? Melania thought. Well, whatever, I have no problem taking the bait, as you should already know.

“Hello, my dear,” Sofia said as soon as she became aware of Melania’s presence, her words inadvertently breaking the tense moment of glances between her and Bianka. “Can I help you in any way?”

“Yes, Miss Gruber,” the brunette replied, looking at the hotel owner, though she was unable to stop monitoring Bianka out of the corner of her eye. “I’m here on behalf of Motherfiglia Latteo. Mi name is Melania Tantilatte, partner of the company together with my mother.” She showed the delivery list. “These are the dairy products we are unloading from the truck now, as agreed at the cattle fair.”

“May I see that, Miss Tantilatte?” Sofia asked, approaching Melania.

“Of course,” the Italian nodded, handing the printed sheet to the older woman.

As soon as the hotel owner looked down at the list, Melania felt free to look directly back at Bianka. The beautiful face of her nemesis remained a complex mixture of emotions, some better hidden than others. The animosity was clearly visible in her eyes, and the resentment she undeniably felt over the defeat of breasts days before came out with a certain occasional soft twitch at the corner of her full lips. But the tumultuous relationship between the two young women was also reflected in a kind of hunger that burned in Bianka’s serious gesture, making her look dangerous as never before to Melania.

It wasn’t until the brunette could see past the hatred and lust for revenge that Bianka’s face showed that she noticed something different about her: for the first time since she had known her, she was wearing make-up. It was very subtle, with a slight white eyeliner and a soft pink lipstick, but it was enough for Melania to realize how little the other woman needed to enhance her natural beauty. A pang of jealousy flooded the Italian’s heart at such a revelation, but she found immediate solace in her own graceful features. Melania was also wearing make-up in the presence of her enemy for the first time and, like Bianka, her bare beauty didn’t need to be enhanced with cosmetics. Still, she was grateful to level the playing field against the Austrian with her own smooth black eyeliner and delicate red lipstick, so she could deal with Bianka on an equal footing in the looks department.

Predictably, Melania’s dark eyes then turned their full attention to the main focus of their female rivalry. Lowering her gaze, she observed Bianka’s torso clad in a thick white cotton top, and immediately noticed that it was as thick and impenetrable as her own. Melania understood that, after the dirty, hot events of three days ago, Bianka had come to the same conclusion as she had and had opted to armor up a little more and protect her greatest assets. From that distance, the Italian could even get the impression that the white-haired milkmaid that time was wearing a bra, so it was not crazy to think that Bianka’s generous bosoms were going through the same sense of vulnerability as her own fat pair—although aggravated by the flesh defeat on Sunday. Still, Melania had to bite her lower lip to contain her annoyance that her adversary’s bust looked so big and bulky under that white tank top.

“Here is some kind of error.” Sofia broke the moment again, and Melania caught Bianka’s blue eyes in the act by taking a good look at her own black top and the substantial load that the cotton was holding before both girls attended to the third woman on the scene. “Please, may I have your delivery list, Miss Lautermilch?”

“Of course, Miss Gruber, right here.” Melania couldn’t stop her body from trembling slightly as she heard Bianka’s voice again after nights hearing it only in her sleep.

As Sofia checked and compared the two sheets of paper, Melania and Bianka checked and compared each other again. After another good, long look at the Austrian’s top-covered breasts, Melania’s gaze lowered and lingered on Bianka’s exposed midriff. Never before had the other girl shown her belly to her, but the brunette was not surprised to see it looking that flat and fit—the subtle definition of the Austrian’s abdominal muscles matched those of her own revealed stomach, and the delicate curve of her waist had nothing to envy to Melania’s. The Italian girl still couldn’t believe how much both young bodies mirrored each other, no matter how much more she discovered about Bianka’s figure, and, as her rival also shamelessly seized the opportunity to visually dissect her, she ended up wondering if, in the end, she would have to confront in one way or another the rest of the virtues that Bianka’s physique arrogantly exhibited, as she had done—and would continue to do if the blue-eyed milkmaid demanded it despite the last humiliation—when antagonizing large boobs.

The examination of Bianka’s body concluded with a brief glance at her blue jeans, identical to the pants the brunette wore herself, and a pair of white sneakers in opposition to her black ones. There was no time for more, as Sofia spoke again.

“I see what has happened,” she said, holding up both lists. “Here we have always bought dairy goods from Zweifrauen Milchhof.” She pointed to Bianka. “But from what I see here, my husband signed a new contract with Motherfiglia Latteo the other day.” Now she pointed to Melania. “Since he is so absent-minded, he didn’t tell me anything before he left on his trip. What a hassle.”

“So, it’s my milk products that stay,” Melania stated immediately, casting a victorious glance at Bianka.

“Absolutely not,” the other milkmaid interjected. “No one has notified us that our delivery has been cancelled.” She looked back at Melania. “And as far as I know, Miss Gruber is still in charge here, not her husband.”

“But surely she delegated this decision to him,” the Italian woman looked at the hotel owner for a moment. “Is that so, Miss Gruber?”

“My order was signed by Miss Gruber, that’s all that matters,” Bianka interrupted. “So my milk products stay.”

Just then, in the biggest of coincidences, as if the situation required even more pressure, two men entered the room, each with a transport trolley full of boxes: the Portuguese worker who had come with Melania, and a tall guy who the brunette guessed worked for Bianka.

“Get the goods into the storeroom,” Melania and Bianka said at the same time. Half a second later, they both exchanged a quick and poorly disguised angry glance.

“One moment, please!” For the first time, Sofia seemed to lose a little of her composure. “Calm everyone down! This is getting out of hand…”

For a few seconds, Melania stopped listening to the older woman. All her attention was on Bianka, whom she could not believe had such arrogance in her after the dirty punishment she had given her at the old train station.

This bitch needs another lesson, she mused, just before another thought assailed her. I should have fucked her boyfriend when I had the chance.

The room crackled with growing and unspoken tension while the brunette felt her animosity for her white-haired nemesis consuming her—a stinging hatred of a rivalry that was five days old but felt like it had been burning for years. The reciprocity from Bianka’s feelings was palpable in the charged atmosphere, Melania knowing that only the presence of others was preventing the two from throwing themselves at each other.

“…that will solve the problem for now.” Sofia’s voice eventually drew Melania’s dark gaze. “We exceptionallystayed with both deliveries today, but I will talk to my husband on the phone and then contact you or your mothers to let you know my decision on the contract. Is it an acceptable compromise for everyone?”

“It is, Miss Gruber,” Bianka spoke before Melania could open her mouth. “You know that you can count on Zweifrauen Milchhof for all your needs.”

“We at Motherfiglia Latteo will be waiting for your call,” Melania intervened. “I’m sure we will be able to reach a satisfactory agreement.”

“Perfect,” the owner said with a sincere smile, before turning to the men. “Leave all the goods at the back of the room, please.” She turned her attention back to the young milkmaids. “And you two, to make up for the misunderstanding, would you accept some sauna invitations? You can come at any moment you want…”

“I can take the moment now,” Bianka agreed immediately, taking Melania, Sofia and even her worker by surprise.

“But Miss Lautermilch,” the man verbalized. “We still have many orders to…”

“You’ve been working with us for some time now. I trust you to take care of the route,” the Austrian interrupted him, still with her blue eyes fixed only on Melania. “I need this right now.”

Swallowing hard, the Italian beauty felt her heart racing. Bianka immediately, unashamedly accepting the invitation to the sauna had caught her off guard, leaving her torn under a surge of conflicting emotions. The prospect of being alone with Bianka again, especially in a place as intimate as a sauna, had come out of nowhere, and she couldn’t stop her heart from racing under a wave of nerves and excitement.

“I need a nice relaxing sauna now too,” Melania found herself saying. Without taking her eyes off Bianka, she gave the order to her worker: “I’m leaving you in charge.”

“Well, then say no more,” Miss Gruber said, oblivious to the sudden rise in temperature around the two young women. “Let me escort you to the saunas.”

As Sofia took the lead, Melania and Bianka walked a few steps behind her, completely forgetting about the confused men who were left alone in the storage room. For the brunette, the environment faded around her instantly, without her being aware of the hallways she walked or the people she crossed paths with. For her there was only a desperate, almost painful anticipation, growing with each step, each one bringing her closer to the private encounter she had desired from the moment she laid eyes on Bianka minutes earlier. Beside her, the other girl was staring straight ahead, and Melania could see that her body language projected barely-contained anxiety, confidence and ambition all at once.