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Author Topic: The defining moment  (Read 1178 times)
Snafu
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« on: January 08, 2017, 07:47:55 PM »

Dear Jonathan,

As you probably know, I’m not doing well. Cancer’s a bitch, but I guess I can’t complain. I’ve had a good life, better than most, and no regrets. I just wish it could have lasted a little longer.  I’ve done some selected “goodbye interviews” the last couple of days, they’ll probably appear in print the day after I’m gone or so. I didn’t want to do them, but my PR-manager convinced me it was best to leave the vultures of the press well fed, if I don’t want them to pick on my remains after I’m gone. I might be gone by then, but my companty will live on and I still have that to think about.

As expected most of the journalists I met were idiots, the same boring pre-chewed questions over and over again. One reporter asked me something that struck a chord though. “What did I consider the defining moment of my life?” Suddenly I was there again, at the lake, with you, Peter and Jessy. Don’t worry, I didn’t tell him about it. I quickly made something up, some fake childhood story of me helping my poor overworked single mom sew her cousin’s bridal dress the night before her wedding, you know, something that proved that even back then I had already everything in me to one day become the largest fashion designer and businesswoman of our age. It’ll bring a tear to your eye when you read it and they’ll probably turn it into a Hallmark movie one day. Let’s not try to imagine the kind of movie they would make from what I was really thinking about it.

We were 18 back then. High school was out and our last real summer lying in front of us. It was Peter’s idea to drive to the lake, have a picnic, swim a bit… He probably wanted to do more than that, we probably all did, but we were all young, naieve and made sex a much bigger and complicated deal than it was. I’ve never seen any of you again since that summer. I took a lot of effort, but I refrained from googling you. I want to remember you the way you were back then. You looked good in those days, extremely good. Actually we all did. Even me. When I look at pictures of myself back then, I feel like shouting: “You’re beautiful, idiot, just drop the glasses and let your hair hang loose instead of writing long pages of ugly-duck self-pity shit in your diary, you Anne-Frank-in-less-turbulent-times-wannabe”.

Off course gorgeous Jessy was partly to blame for my lack of confidence. Every popular girl needs a little nerdy sidekick, somebody to make her own star shine even brighter. Maybe I would have been a happier teenager if I had stuck with the “nerds”. She pretended to “elevate” me to the ranks of the popular kids, but in exchange I had to accept her kicking me down every now and then, so she could feel better about herself.

Jessy wanted you bad back then, but I think you knew that. She didn’t understand why you never tried to make a move on her. She was the prettiest and most popular girl in school, you were captain of the wrestling team, state champion. It was written in the sky, at least in her sky, that the two of you should be together. Were you really this shy? Or really not in to her? Can’t blame you if you weren’t. It was Jessy’s idea to focus all her attention on Peter that afternoon, in an attempt to make you jealous. It didn’t really work, it only made Peter’s head spin. The poor boy, he wanted to sleep with Jessy so bad and he thought he was so close.

When making you jealous didn’t work, she started teasing you instead, questioning your wrestling achievements. “Last time I saw you and Peter competing I’m pretty sure he could have beaten you if it weren’t for the referee”, something like that.  Off course Peter, who was completely unaware of what she was really up to, immediately agreed with her, started challenging you to a rematch. You tried to minimize it, even went as far as saying it was indeed a close call, but Peter was so eager to prove himself in front of Jessy, it was hard to cool him down. I stayed out of it, saw the look of your face. You didn’t want to, but you had your pride, couldn’t leave a challenge, not even a friendly one, go unanswered.  

My heart was going overtime when the two of you stepped on the grass. Still wet from the swim you took earlier, the both of you only wearing your swimtrucks, built like greek statues, bodies like semigods. And although Jessy didn’t move, didn’t say a word, I knew she was going crazy inside as well. I knew her well enough, knew what it meant when she was biting her lips the way she did, saw her eyes beam with excitement.

We kept silent the whole time the two of you were wrestling on the grass in front of us. The fight started playfully enough, but there was a lot at stake. Peter so desperately wanted Jessy, and you weren’t willing to give up your status as unbeaten wrestling champion just to do him a favour. Not in front of us girls. In the end the moves you made on each weren’t wrestling moves anymore, even a novice like me could tell, and probably would have gotten the both of you disqualified in real tournament. You went at it for a long time, you got tired, but also excited. The tight swimming trunks you were wearing were pretty revealing after all.  What was that about, I still wonder? Was it because the two were already thinking about the possible outcome of the match? Imagining a girl, or both girls, for the winner? Whatever it was, it only intensified the effects the two of you were already having on the both of us. I could hear Jessy letting out loud sighs, constantly shifting her legs, one of her hands stroking her right breast through her T-shirt. Me, I didn’t know what to do to get rid of the tingling sensation in my underbelly, wanted to jump in the lake just to cool down. The lake was only a few feet away, but it seemed like it was at the other end of the world. I was happy we had put our T-shirt and skirt back on over our one-piece bathing suits earlier that afternoon, so all physical proof of our excitement remained hidden.  

The end was a draw, but you put away your pride, figured you had gone too far and were nice enough to grant Peter victory. Peter had you in a headlock, his arms around your neck, tighter than he should have. You had difficulty breathing, were turning red. It wasn’t okay what he was doing. It was the only time Jessy broke our silence by shrieking “Jonathan!”. She didn’t want to see you lose, was worried about you. I saw Peter let his guard slip a fraction of a second to throw Jessy a nasty look and somehow or another you took advantage of that to squirm yourself half out of his grip and then elbowed him. You both fell on the grass next to each other. You gasping for breath, Peter with his hands on his chest. It could have gotten uglier, but you immediately turned yourself towards him, took his hand, apologized and called him the rightful winner. That was noble of you, it made you the winner in my eyes, in Jessy’s as well. Peter knew it, but what could he do, he got what he wanted. I could see he was angry at Jessy. She had only said one word the entire match, but it was a revealing one. It was you she wanted, not him. He realised she had been playing him all afternoon.

You came back to us, both covered in grass and sweat, panting, your excitement still showing. Either you were unaware of if, or you simply didn’t care. “Now it’s your turn, girls”, Peter simply said, throwing Jessy another angry look. I don’t know if he meant it or if he just wanted to make her feel uncomfortable, but before anyone could object and to everyone’s surprise I immediately jumped up and shouted: “Oh yes! Jessy! Let’s wrestle!”. I didn’t think about it. No plans, no schemes. Seeing the two of you go at it, the whole thing had made me so excited, I wanted to do something, anything, to just about anyone, as long as I could get rid of all that extra energy that had heaped itself up between my loins. I don’t think Jessy really wanted to, but there was no way out for her now. She looked at you, but you didn’t come to her rescue, you said nothing, just nodded and murmured “should be exciting” or something like that. Nobody expected it would be more than some clumsy rolling around.

I pulled her up by her right arm and dragged her with me onto the grass, while the two of you lay yourself on the picnic blanket. When we were out of hearing distance, our backs still turned towards the two of you, she pulled me close and whispered “Let’s keep it friendly, shall we, Lilla? I don’t want to lose in front of Jonathan”. Normally I would have said “Sure thing, Jessy!” or “Whatever you say, Jessy!”, like I had done so many times over the past few years, but to my own and her surprise this time I didn’t. I said: “Neither do I” instead.  

She stopped walking. My answer couldn’t have been said in a friendlier voice, but I saw it had shocked her. I had never rebelled against her. “I mean it, Lilla, if you force me, I might hurt you. Don’t do things that might end our friendship!”  I just sighted and said “High school is over, Jessy.”

I’ve never thought about why I said what I said and did what I did ‘till today. Why didn’t I simply agree to a playful tussle, let her be the winner and let her get her way like she always had. It’s not that I hated her, or wanted to get back at her or whatever. Though our relationship was an unequal one, she was still my friend. Admitted, she hadn’t always treated me right, but I had allowed her to do so. I wasn’t and have never been a hateful woman. I’m still not sure why I did it. I guess that after having felt like an ugly duck for so many years years, I just desperatly wanted my own moment to shine, especially in the sight of two roman gods like you and Peter. Seeing as this was my last chance of getting that moment, I wasn’t going to just give it away. No, I was going to fight for it.

I could still see the shock in her eyes when I turned towards her, saw it get replaced with anger. I knew she thought I was betraying her by not giving into her this once. It wasn’t betrayal, but I couldn’t expect her to understand that. She was still my friend. I wasn’t mad or angry at her. Actually the only thing I could think off then was how beautiful she looked, even with her eyes so full of hatred. One head taller than me, long beautiful legs, long blonde hair, perky breasts and ass. How I admired her. I always knew why she had picked me as her “best friend”, or “ high school sidekick”. Me, a redheaded freckled plump little girl with glasses and an eternal ponytail: the contrast couldn’t have been bigger. But unaware to all, even to myself, some things had already changed that afternoon. They had changed when I had taken off my glasses, when I had jumped up and dragged her onto the grass, when I had removed the elastic out of my hair and had shaken my long red curly hairs loose. I didn’t realise it then, but I must have looked good, great even. I became aware of my body. I had always been ashamed of it, tried to hide it under too large sweaters and dresses, but didn’t care then, took off my T-shirt, stared down and enjoyed the look of my freckled cleavage in my one-piece swimming suit. My breasts were bigger and firmer than hers, I realised, and the feeling I got from that realisation was incredible. Not so to her. I saw she was boiling. Feeling obliged, she followed my example and took off her T-shirt as well, threw it towards you guys on the blanket and then walked towards me.

When we were almost head to head, she leant towards me and I leant towards her. “If this is the way you want it, so be it” she whispered at me. Before I could reply, she threw her arms around my neck, I threw mine around hers and our tussle began.

We had never fought before, never wrestled. We tried to play nice at first, or at least tried to avoid hurting each other, and imitated some of your easier wrestling moves, but it only resulted in us ending up in a bear-hug, our arms wrapped tightly around each other’s chests, our bodies pressed firmly against each others. My bigger breasts were an advantage and I enjoyed the feeling of pressing them onto her smaller pair. It was a hot day, we were moaning and grunting and beads of sweat were starting to run over our foreheads, into our eyes and down our cheecks as we tango-ed across the grass this way, looking for an angle or an advantage over the other, a way to get out of this test of strength.

We went at it for several minutes this way and neither of us could think of a way to get out this deadlock. I didn’t mind, I enjoyed pressing my breasts against hers, wished I was taller so I could rub them in her face. Our heads were next to each others the entire time, we could hear each other grunt and groan and out of frustration she started whispering curses in my ear. She called me a bad friend and a traitor first, then a whore, a slut and a bitch. I needed all my energy to maintain my grip and the only thing I could utter was “cxnt”. It was enough. Almost immediately she grabbed my hair. I schrieked and I heard you say “whoaaa…” but you stayed put, didn’t intervene. I’m glad you didn’t. I immediatly went along, dug my hands into her hair and our fight took on an entirely new, nastier character.  

This time she had the advantage, being taller than me, and she pulled my head sideways, got one of her long legs behind me and tripped me onto the grass. I went down, but didn’t let go off her hair and dragged her down with me. She immediately threw herself on top of me and we started rolling around, legs locked, hands in each other’s hair, trying to get the upper hand. Despite our differences in size, we were an equal match, and both equally determined. We were sweating like hell now, were almost soaking wet, which was a relief actually. Our own fight had aroused me even more than yours had and as we were rolling around, I knew our skirts had crept upwards, granting you boys magnificent sights on our behinds, thighs and, well, our lower body areas. Blades of grass were sticking all over us and after much rolling around and hairpulling she managed to get on top of me and stay there. She managed to get my hands out her hair, sat up on top of me and slid forwards over my chest, ‘till she was almost sitting with her crotch on top of my face. She was panting and so was I. She grabbed me by the hair and pressed my head against her crotch. I could smell her, feel her wetness against my cheecks, knew it wasn’t just sweat. I grabbed her ass with both hands and started pulling her skirt and bathing suit, revealing her cheecks to you guys and pulling the front of it it deep inside her crotch. She groaned and started pulling my hair harder, we were both trying to outpain each other now, both of us moaning and shrieking. She squirmed slightly backwards to get rid of the burning sensation in her crotch and I let go of the back of her bathing suit only to grab her swimsuit front instead, pulled it down, grabbed her naked breasts with both hands and started squeezing and pinching them. She grabbed my hands and tried to pull them away. I started squirming, threw my body in the air, managed to get my head from underneath her, turned around immediately, threw her down on her belly on the grass and flung myself on top of her. I sat on her back, grabbed her hair and pulled her head backwards. She cried, trampled with her legs, squirmed to get from under me. I tightened my legs around her, squeezed her body with them as hard as I could. She tried to get up and once again her larger size was to her advantage. I couldn’t hold her down. She managed to right herself on her knees and hands, while I did my best not to lose my position, throwing my arms and legs around her and clenching myself to her back.
 
With a lot of effort she managed to get up on one knee, then she threw herself backwards. The grass was soft, but I still landed on it with a loud thump. The shock and the pain shooting through my spine made me lose my grip and she immediately rolled herself loose, got up, grabbed me by my long hair, pulled me up and started dragging me across the grass towards the lake. She wanted to throw me in. I grabbed her hands and tried to pry them out of my hair, but she was determined, shred forward, dragging me along, when she suddenly slipped. There was a muddy strip right in front of the lake that was slippier than expected. She tried to maintain her balance, but I grabbed my chance, rushed forwards, threw my arms around her waist, threw her down into the mud and myself on top of her. We started rolling around again, mud and earth clinging to our wet bodies. I got on top of her, her breasts were still showing and I figured it was time to finish what I had started. I grabbed her bathing suit and started tearing it further down.  I got off of her, got on my feet with shreddded pieces of cloth in both my hands, bent down, grabbed what was left over of her bathing suit and tried to tear it off completely now. I almost succeeded, but she grabbed the skirt she was still wearing over her bathing suit with both hands and started kicking her legs at me. She hit my thighs several times, then aimed a little higher and managed to land one of her feet between my legs just as I was bending over in a final attempt to grap her skirt as well and strip her completely. It didn't hurt much, but made me let go of her for just a second, enough for her to roll around, get on her knees, grab my legs, pull me down on my back, grab my skirt and drag it off. Everything was happening fast now. I got up and jumped to my knees as she she sank onto hers. My own bathing suit was still intact and it was obvious she wanted to change that as soon as possible. She lept towards me again, first grabbed the straps with both hands and with little effort tore them off. Then she grabbed the top of my bathing suit and started ripping it open. I didn’t try to resist, felt how my breasts became exposed, focussed on her skirt instead, got one of my hands underneath it, felt what was remaining of the lower part of her bathing suit, even felt her soaking shaven lips against my fingers. I managed to get a good hold of both her skirt and bathing suit, pushed her down with my elbow and dragged them down her legs. She didn’t let go of my own bathing suit as she went down hoewever and tore it down ‘till over my crotch. Not being fixed anywhere anymore, I simply slid down across my legs.

We were both naked now. I didn’t care, neither did she apparently. The mud and earth and dirt covering our wet bodies felt like a layer of clothing anyhow. We threw ourselves at each other again, started rolling around, pulling hair, felt our crotches rubbing against each others as we rolled into the lake. Trying to get on top had been our aim this whole time, but now we were more desperate to get there, knew we had to be on top before we rolled into the deep part. I had just managed to get on top, her head still above when we made another spin. I felt ourselves rolling over the edge dividing the deep from the undeep part of the lake and this time I was on the bad side, I was the one going down and my head went under. The second I felt the water hit my nostrils and felt the bottom sliding from under me, I reacted fiercely. I immediately threw my arms around her neck and body and dragged her down under with me. We completely  lost our grip with the bottom now, could only feel each other, were kicking and clawing at each other like crazy. She squirmed like hell to get out of my grip and I let go off her after a few seconds, desperate for breath myself. Our heads broke the lake’s surface almost simultaneoulsy. We were coughing, rubbing water out of our eyes, started swimming towards the undeep, taking care to keep a little distance from one another, desperate to get our breath back. When we reached the undeep, we didn’t stop, kept wading forward, a few meters apart, not losing sight of the other, ready to respond to the other’s every move, panting, our breasts heaving with each breath we took. At this moment we were no doubt both thinking about a way to get out of this without losing face, at least I was, but we had gone too far. No way for either of us to try Jonathan’s sportive noble approach in this stage, this had to be a fight to the finish.

When I didn’t jump her, she kept going forwards. It was clear she wanted to get out of the lake. Too risky to stay here, it could go all ways, she seemed to think. She was right, I followed her. She turned towards me again only when she had reached the safety of the muddy strip again. Time for the endgame.

We waited and stared at each other, one second, maybe two, then almost simultaneously rushed towards each other, screaming, our bodies colliding full force and both of us going down because off the impact. We had long figured out we were just as strong, an equal match, and stamina would prove more important than muscle. We were both dead tired however, were both using our final reserves, every move could be our last now and I realised that a fraction of a second too late. She was slightly faster, threw herself on my back when I tried to get up and threw her arms around my neck, rolled on her back with me on top of her, imitating Peter’s endmove. I reached back with my arms, managed to get hold of some of her hair, pulled as hard as I could. She screamed, but didn’t let go, suffered through the pain and only intensified her grip around my neck. I squirmed, I slashed, I kicked, I did everything I could to get out of her hold. I tried imitating your final move, tried to elbow her, but she had clenched herself so firm onto my back, her feet pressing into my crotch, that it was impossible for me to reach her or use much force. It was then that I bit her arm. Hard.  She screamed, tried to hold on, but I dug my teeth deeper into her skin. I so didn’t want to lose. She screamed, sobbed almost, let go of me, pushed me away, slapped my head and face as she did so. She probably wanted a few seconds to recollect herself again, and god knows I could have used them as well, still seeing stars before my eyes, but I immediately turned round and flung myself back at her instead.

We rolled from the mud onto the grass. With a lot of effort I managed to get on top of her, even managed to sit up. She was using her nails now, scratching my ass and breasts as I pulled her hair. This time I was the one biting through the pain. Ignoring her slashes I slid further forwards, over her chest, ‘till I reached her face, pinned her shoulders down with my knees and fixed her head between my legs. She stopped squirming. I was wondering if she was about to give up, but she was only gathering her final strength. In an unexpected move, she pushed me up and rolled herself on her side, almost throwing me off. I managed to stay put though, even forced her to complete her spin by pulling her hair, making her end up on her belly underneath me. I kept holding her hair, kept her head fixed between my legs. She tried to slowly get up again, got on her knees, tried to push herself up with her hands. I fell forwards, but didn’t let go off her. I turned round on my back, she still lying on her belly, still trying to get up. I still had my legs still around her neck, her face in my crotch. Now was the time. I pulled her hair and squeezed my legs around her neck as hard as I could. I was about to collapse, I don’t think I could have hold on long, she squirmed, hard at first, tried to get up, grabbed my legs, scratched them as deep as she could. Then she seemed to lose strength, squirmed less and less, her arms fell next to her into the grass until she finally stopped moving alltogether. She had passed out. I let go off her, let myself fall down onto the grass, blacked out as well.

When I woke up she was sitting a few metres from me. Peter had draped a towel around her. She was crying and he was trying to console her. You were sitting next to me, your head above mine. I saw you and smiled. You looked worried, but when I kept smiling, smiled back. “You ok?”. I just nodded. You carried me up, lay me onto the picnic blanket and covered me with a towel. I closed my eyes again and kept lying like that for a long time.

It don’t know when Peter and Jessy left. I woke up and they were gone. It was dusk. I was lying with my head on your lap. Again, your smile above my face. “Really, are you okay?” you asked. I didn’t say a word, grabbed your arm, pulled you on top of me.

You were my first.

The next day my diary simply read “I feel like I turned into a swan.”

I know you tried to reach out to me the next couple of weeks, but I had made up mind. I was going to leave and didn’t plan on ever coming back. I liked you, didn’t want to break your heart. Something had awoken in me that day, a confidence I didn’t knew I had in me. Suddenly our hometown felt too small for me. I didn’t want to be a simple sewer like my mother. I felt I could do more. I could be someone, I was going to be someone. And that’s what I did.

I hope you had a good life, Jonathan, and Jessy and Peter as well. Give them my love if they’re still living there. Tell Jessy I’m sorry, I wasn’t mad at her, never held at grudge, not before, not afterwards. It’s just something I had to do, my way of discovering I could say no in life, could even be a winner. Thank you for not intervening, thank you for staying with me, thank you for being there.

Thank you,
Love,
Lilla



Snafu (c)
« Last Edit: January 08, 2017, 08:44:01 PM by Snafu » Logged
sinclairfan
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« Reply #1 on: January 08, 2017, 07:59:34 PM »

Believable, and intense.

But why the cancer angle?  Why not a rematch 30 years later?
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Snafu
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« Reply #2 on: January 08, 2017, 08:10:53 PM »

I don't know, I have doubted a long time about using it, but I wanted the idea of a fight as the "defining moment" in the main character's life to be believable and that required the main character to have lived most her life in order for her to recognize that moment as such, which made me end up with a "reflections on my life as it's almost over" background story. I've tried to work without that angle, but somehow or another it felt less real to me. Then again, I admit, this is not literature, but a catfight story, maybe I should have kept it a little lighter.
« Last Edit: January 08, 2017, 08:12:36 PM by Snafu » Logged
DogWithABone
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No matter where you go, there you are.


« Reply #3 on: January 08, 2017, 10:06:13 PM »

Excellent. I actually like the finality of it.
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georgegizmo
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« Reply #4 on: January 08, 2017, 10:41:56 PM »

I liked this format and it isn't necessarily final. Lilla is looking back, satisfied with her decision that day. She kept moving forward with her life and she wanted the memories of her friends to remain intact. There could be an epilogue where her friends gather in her memory and relive that day also; I hope there is an epilogue so we know how her friends took it that day and how they accept it now. Thanks for the story.
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FyreCracka
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A husband and wife catfight writing team


« Reply #5 on: January 09, 2017, 03:03:16 AM »

Definitely an enjoyable read. I would rather it been a start of a new hobby, but that would have made it like many others (my stories included). So it's cool that you did your own thing. I know I'd like to see more of your work and hope this isn't your last tale.

-Fyre
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Fyre: a 5' 5 1/2", 137lbs, 37 years old, blonde hair and brown eyed brawler.

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sinclairfan
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« Reply #6 on: January 09, 2017, 07:12:05 AM »

Excellent. I actually like the finality of it.

There's an old Seinfeld episode where Jerry is parodying his (not funny) rival comedian Banya.  (Banya makes lame jokes about things like Ovaltine.)  Jerry mimics him and mockingly says, "Hey, everyone!!!  Ya know what's funny?  Cancer!!!" 

This, to me at least, is almost the FCF version of that bit.  "Hey, everyone!!!  Ya know what makes a good premise to a sexy girlfight?  Cancer!!!!"

I guess having seen the Seinfeld bit sort of ruined this for me.
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Snafu
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« Reply #7 on: January 09, 2017, 10:45:51 AM »

I see your point and understand it, but think the comparison is a bit stretched. It's just one sentence in the entire story and I could change it in a heartbeat without having having changed the premise (because cancer isn't the premise here) and without having to change anything else. I don't want anyone to take anything in the story the wrong way, so if the modify function was still working, I probably would have already changed it into something unspecific and extremely vague like: "a chronic illness, I don't need to tell you which one, you've no doubt read about it in the gutter press already" already. That could mean anything and the premise would have remained unchanged.
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