The Winter has been endless, and even though Spring has arrived, I am cooped up and frozen. My hubby Tim suggested that I go off for the long weekend and relax, knowing that spending some of his bucks at the Casino seems to put me in a good mood. Normally, I would jump at the chance, but through incredible bad luck, my last two trips ended up in catfights with some overripe whore that eked out humiliating victories over me. Lightning cannot strike three times, I say to myself, and wanting to enjoy a little fling, I pack my SUV and chug off for adventure.
The closer I get, the more that vivid memories of my two catfights with that Vanessa flood my thoughts. I find myself stepping on the gas pedal as I remember opportunities to stomp on her, am almost crushing my coffee cup as I think of her soft breasts in my clutches, and as I run my hand through my hair I am forced to recall the shameful pube plucking I endured. I twitch, feeling the lush growth down there, and look forward to some pampering as I pull into the spa and have valet service deal with bags and car.
Swishing my buns, throwing my hair back, a glance in the mirror shows me looking good as I make an entrance, which turns mouth dropping instead of show stopping. Right in front of me is that auburn haired slut. This cannot be. Before I can swerve or back away, she spots me and has the nerve to greet me, asks me to call, and sashays off like she owns the place. Open mouthed, that sweet Allen, who always handles my requests, informs me that the room is all set, luggage already up there. "Always exciting when you are here Miss Linda". I hurry what would normally be a coy moment, as I thank him and rise up to my room, my head spinning.
What did that bitch mean about discussing things? Could this be a setup? I stew for an impatient moment as I pour a crown royale and realize that I have to expunge this tart from my head, as if squeezing a zit. The analogy is perfect for me, and picturing Vanessa as a foul pimple, I dial up. Never one to sit back, or as my husband says, always leading with my mouth, I listen to her outrageous invitation to settle things. Bustling side to side nervously, I listen and instantly accept. She natters on, about arrangements and her wonderful fucking suite, but my heart is pumping so hard I can’t hear her. I have tonight and the whole weekend to deflate this hag flatter than a shed snake skin. Whatever she said or says, once I get up to her suite, (and why is it higher than mine), I will be setting the agenda, not her.
She has never dealt with me in a truly one on one situation and there will be no escaping my wrath. A flicker of thought crosses my mind: why is she doing this?, but I realize she is so egotistical that she thinks she will gain another triumph more easily than before. My only internal hesitation comes with the idea of a sex fight with her. I am completely confident that I have seen all her catfighting tricks, but I am probably a novice compared to her in sexfighting. Well, I’ll beat the crap out of her sloppy titties first, and that should soften her up.
Heading towards the station where Maria will meet me to provide an access card, her eyebrows arch when I let her know that I’ll be staying with my good friend Vanessa for part of my stay. "Lets hope you have good fortune" she gracefully suggests. In my sheer dark blue dinner gown that I thought was so delicious, I let myself into this so called presidential suite, to be surprised by how elegant it is, much more so than cookie cutter style rooms like the suite I was provided. Announcing myself, I hear her bray a welcome and listen to her horsey clip clopping as she rounds a corner, both of us with hands on hips.
"Thank you for providing an opportunity to test each other. You have no idea how much I will enjoy this", as I undress my foe with my eyes, getting ready to shred this piece of baggage. No one here to separate us this time or to place inhibitions on us. "Shall we discuss our little weekend get together?"