The Intern - Sera fights Jenny

[York]

Sera expressed the desire to fight my wife Jenny, after she read how wife lost with our neighbor Christine, so I imagine the two of them working in the same company with my sweet wife showing her bitchy attitude towards the young intern Sera....

this is Sera (  https://www.freecatfights.com/forums/index.php?action=profile;u=63047  ) 



Jenny 

...and the two in the office.... 

=======

The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, revealing a woman in a tailored navy blazer adjusting the strap of her leather satchel.
Her dark hair was pinned back so tightly it pulled at the corners of her eyes, giving her a permanently unimpressed expression.
A security badge dangled from her hip--*Jennifer Lee, Senior Financial Analyst*--though everyone just called her Jenny.
She stepped into the lobby, her high heels clicking against the marble like a metronome set too fast.

Three floors up, Sera Nguyen was already at her desk, fingers hovering over her keyboard.
She'd arrived forty minutes early, just like she had every day this week. The intern handbook had said promptness is professionalism*, so she'd taken it literally. Her coffee sat untouched, condensation pooling around the base. Across the cubicle partition, Mark from Accounting leaned over.
"You know she can't actually fire you for breathing wrong, right?"

Sera groaned and flipped open the Monroe file--third review this week, each flagged for trivial discrepancies Jenny could've corrected with a sticky note.
"She wants me to recalculate the depreciation schedules," Sera muttered, thumbing through pages where Jenny's red pen had circled perfectly legible figures. "Because apparently 7.2% *looks* like it might be a 7.3%." Across the partition, Mark spun in his chair, arms crossed over his wrinkled polo.
"Star Woman strikes again," he said, nodding toward Jenny's office where the glass walls showed her meticulously rearranging a shelf of binders.

"Two months ago, she wore low heels every day. Now? Stilettos. Since *someone* showed up in those kitten heels from Tokyo.
" Sera's face heated. She hadn't even noticed Jenny glancing at her shoes--let alone copying them.
Sera's phone buzzed against her thigh--Jenny's name flashing like a hazard light. *Stay late today. Monroe file needs final revisions before Monday.*
No please, no acknowledgment that it was Friday, just the expectation coiled tight in those twelve words. She thumbed the screen off and exhaled through her nose. The office was emptying fast, chairs wheeling backward in a chorus of squeaks, backpacks zipping shut.

Mark tossed a protein bar onto her keyboard. "Survival rations," he said, already halfway to the elevators. "Don't let her suck your soul out through a spreadsheet."
By six-thirty, the floor was hollowed out, fluorescent lights humming over rows of dark monitors. Jenny's office door stood ajar, casting a trapezoid of yellow across the carpet. Sera could see the silhouette of her supervisor bent over a ledger, the tip of her pen tapping--*tap tap tap*--like she was counting down to something. The Monroe file sprawled across Sera's desk, pages bristling with Post-its where Jenny had scribbled *RECALCULATE* in all caps, each note flaring neon under the desk lamp. She clicked her calculator again, the numbers blurring. 7.2%. 7.2%. 7.2%.

Sera's fingers froze mid-calculation, her gaze drifting past the spreadsheet to Jenny's office. The senior analyst was leaning over her desk, the stretchy grey fabric of her leggings pulling taut as she reached for a binder on the higher shelf. The movement made the black leather of her thigh-high boots gleam under the office lights--a stark contrast to Sera's own scuffed knee-highs. It was Friday, the one day the dress code loosened its grip in the afternoon and Jenny had clearly taken advantage. Sera swallowed hard, suddenly hyperaware of her own outfit--the way her jeans bunched at the knees, the slight gap between her boot tops and the denim. She hadn't realized Jenny even owned anything that wasn't a pencil skirt.

The tapping stopped. Sera jerked her attention back to her calculator just as Jenny's shadow stretched across her cubicle wall.
"Nguyen." The voice was crisp, closer than expected. Sera spun her chair to find Jenny standing barely two feet away, one hip cocked, the toe of her left boot tapping against the carpet. Up close, the boots were even more intimidating--the leather so polished it reflected the ceiling tiles in warped rectangles.
"Did you recalculate the Pacific Northwest projections?" Jenny's fingers drummed against the manila folder in her hands.

Sera couldn't hold it. "Listen Jenny. I've had enough. It's Friday and I need to leave...--"
Jenny smirked, tilting her head just enough to make her diamond stud earrings catch the overhead light.
"Listen, little girl," she purred, stepping closer until the scent of her bergamot perfume curled around Sera like a threat.
"I can make you come in tomorrow too--Saturday, if I want." Her polished boot nudged Sera's chair, forcing it to squeak backward an inch. "And if you want to keep your internship here..."

Sera's fingers dug into her thighs, her nails leaving half-moon indents in the fabric of her jeans. Jenny's smirk widened--she knew exactly how to twist the knife. The bergamot scent was suffocating now, clinging to the back of Sera's throat like a warning.
"Is that clear...?" Jenny repeated, drawing out the last word until it felt like a noose tightening.
The calculator beeped in Sera's lap, the sound absurdly loud in the silence.
She could feel the weight of Jenny's gaze--the way it lingered on the slight tremble of her hands, the way her bottom lip had caught between her teeth.
A predator savoring the chase. Sera exhaled sharply through her nose. "Crystal," she spat, her voice fraying at the edges.

Then something snapped into Sera. She pushed the chair back and stood up, the wheels screeching against the vinyl floor.
Her pulse hammered in her temples, hot and reckless. "You know, bitch...?"
The words tasted sharp, like broken glass. "You can shove your internship up your stinky ass."
Jenny's smirk froze mid-curve, her polished boot hovering above the carpet.

"I am off." Sera grabbed her bag, the strap whipping against Jenny's thigh as she turned toward the corridor.
The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting long shadows down the empty hallway.
Sera's heels clicked faster than she'd ever walked in the office, each step a punctuation mark.
Behind her, Jenny's voice cut through the hum. "Nguyen." It wasn't a shout--Jenny didn't shout--but the way her syllables sharpened made Sera's shoulders tighten. She didn't turn around. The elevator doors slid open just as Jenny called again, closer now.
"You walk out that door, and I *guarantee* you'll never--"

Jenny's fingers clamped around Sera's wrist like a vise, yanking her sideways just as the elevator doors began to close.
The sudden momentum sent Sera stumbling into the corridor, her shoulder blades hitting the opposite wall with a thud that rattled the framed corporate mission statement. "Where do you think you're going, bitch?" Jenny hissed, her breath hot against Sera's ear.
The bergamot scent had turned acrid, mingling with something sharper--panic, or maybe adrenaline.       
"I have not finished with you--"
The crack of Sera's palm against Jenny's cheek echoed down the empty hallway.
Time stuttered. Jenny's head snapped sideways, her dark hair whipping across her stunned expression.

A single pearl earring skittered across the linoleum.
Jenny staggered back, trying to keep her balance on her heels--those ridiculous, knee-weakening boots that had seemed like power play armor hours ago but now betrayed her. Her shoulder hit the opposite wall with a hollow thud, one hand flying up to cradle her cheek where Sera's palm had left a stinging flush.
The silence between them was thick enough to chew. Somewhere down the hall, the elevator dinged uselessly, its doors already sealed shut on empty air.
Sera's breath came in short, sharp bursts, her fingers tingling with the aftershock of the slap. She hadn't planned it. Hadn't even thought it.

But now that it was done, she couldn't bring herself to regret the way Jenny's perfect hair had come undone at the temple, a single strand stuck to the corner of her parted lips. Jenny lunged, her polished boots skidding on the linoleum as she crashed into Sera with the full weight of her fury.
They hit the floor in a tangle of limbs and hissed curses, Jenny's manicured nails raking down Sera's forearm as she straddled her waist.
"You stupid little bitch," Jenny spat, her breath hot against Sera's face. The bergamot scent had curdled into something darker--sweat, adrenaline, the metallic tang of Sera's blood welling up in thin red lines.

"You think you can just--*smack*--walk away from me?" Her knee dug into Sera's ribs as she grabbed a fistful of blouse, the fabric straining at the seams.
Sera bucked her hips, twisting sideways with a grunt. Jenny's grip slipped, her thigh-high boots scraping against the floor as she fought for balance.
The sudden shift sent them rolling--once, twice--until Sera found herself on top, Jenny's hair fanned out beneath her like spilled ink.
"Get off--" Jenny snarled, but Sera planted a knee on her wrist, pinning her left hand to the floor.
The other flailed wildly, smacking against a potted fern that toppled with a ceramic crash.
Soil scattered across Jenny's blazer like ugly brown constellations.

Jenny's knee jerked upward, catching Sera squarely in the ribs with a force that knocked the air from her lungs in a sharp gasp.
For a split second, the fluorescent lights overhead streaked into white lines across Sera's vision--but she didn't let go.
Her fingers tangled in Jenny's silk blouse as they rolled again, the fabric tearing audibly near the collar.
A button pinged off the wall, rolling under a filing cabinet.

"Try that again--" Jenny hissed, her right hand finally wrenching free to grab a fistful of Sera's ponytail.
She yanked hard, forcing Sera's head back with a jerk that made her teeth click together. But Sera was faster--her elbow snapped backward, connecting with Jenny's sternum in a dull thud that earned a choked curse.
The momentum sent them crashing into the water cooler, its plastic tank wobbling precariously as Jenny's shoulder slammed against it.

Jenny's weight pressed Sera against the wall, her knee digging into Sera's thigh as she leaned in close enough for Sera to count the individual flecks of gold in her irises. The water cooler's plastic casing groaned behind them, its tank tilting at a dangerous angle. Jenny's breath hitched--not from exertion, but from the way Sera's torn blouse gaped at the collar, revealing the rapid flutter of her pulse.
"Look at you," Jenny murmured, her voice low and ragged.
"All fight and no finesse." Her thumb brushed Sera's lower lip, smearing a droplet of blood from where Sera had bitten her tongue.

The metallic tang hung between them like a dare.
Sera's fingers twitched at her sides, her nails scraping against the textured wallpaper.
She could feel the cool press of Jenny's thigh-high boot against her calf, the leather still impossibly polished despite the scuffle.
The absurdity of it almost made her laugh--Jenny could be bleeding from the ears and she'd still care more about her damn boots.
"Get off me," Sera growled, but the words lacked their earlier venom. Jenny's proximity was doing something treacherous to her oxygen supply.

Jenny's palm cracked against Sera's cheek--first left, then right--the sharp slaps snapping her head sideways with enough force to blur the exit signs at the end of the hallway. "I am going to put you in your place," Jenny hissed, her fingers tightening in Sera's hair as she yanked her upright again.
The water cooler's tank gave a final wobble behind them, its plastic creaking like a ship about to capsize.
Sera tasted copper, her tongue probing the split in her lower lip where Jenny's ring had caught the tender flesh
.
Jenny's knee slid higher, pressing into the softness of Sera's inner thigh with deliberate pressure.
"You think you're so clever," she murmured, her free hand tracing the reddening outline of her own fingerprints on Sera's cheek.
"Little intern with her Tokyo heels and her attitude." Her thumb swiped roughly across Sera's lip, smearing blood onto the swell of her chin.
The bergamot scent had soured into something muskier now--sweat and heat and the acrid tang of adrenaline.

Sera's knee jerked upward with a force that surprised even herself--a reflexive, desperate motion driven by sheer adrenaline.
The sharp impact connected squarely between Jenny's thighs, the toe of her kitten heel catching the senior analyst right in the soft, unprotected flesh beneath her tight leggings. Jenny's breath exploded outward in a choked gasp, her entire body folding inward like a snapped ruler.
Her manicured hands flew to her groin, fingers clawing at the fabric as she rolled sideways off Sera with a strangled whimper.

For three horrifyingly silent seconds, Jenny lay curled on the linoleum, her lips parted in a soundless scream as she fought to draw air back into her lungs.
Her thighs clamped together instinctively, the once-pristine leather of her boots squeaking against the floor as she twisted in agony.
Sera scrambled backward on her palms, her own breath ragged. The water cooler chose that moment to tip over with a plastic crash, gallons of water flooding across the hallway in a slow, spreading wave that lapped at the toes of Jenny's boots.

Jenny rose slowly on her stiletto heels, her knees wobbling as she fought to straighten up.
The pain still radiated through her pelvis in nauseating waves, but she'd be damned if she let this intern see her falter.
She managed to prop herself against the wall, one hand pressed flat against the damp wallpaper where the water cooler had soaked through.
Her breath came in shallow gasps, but her eyes--dark and furious--never left Sera's face.

Sera wiped her split lip with the back of her hand, smearing blood across her knuckles.
The metallic taste lingered, sharp and coppery, fuelling the fire in her chest. She took a step forward, then another, her kitten heels clicking against the water-slicked floor with deliberate precision. Jenny's gaze tracked her like a cornered animal, but Sera didn't hurry.
Let her wait. Let her wonder.

"Now it's my turn, bitch," Sera hissed, her voice low and venomous.
She grabbed a fistful of Jenny's ruined blouse, the silk clinging damply to her skin from the spilled water.
Up close, she could see the pulse fluttering wildly at the base of Jenny's throat--could smell the bergamot perfume mingling with sweat and something primal. For the first time since she'd started this godforsaken internship, Jenny looked human.

Jenny's fingers scrabbled at Sera's wrist, her nails digging crescent moons into the skin.
"You--" she choked out, but Sera cut her off by shoving her backward into the wall.
The impact knocked the wind from Jenny's lungs, her head thudding against the drywall hard enough to leave a dent.
A framed corporate mission statement clattered to the floor beside them, the glass shattering across the linoleum in a starburst pattern.

Sera's fist connected with Jenny's ribs first--a sharp, bone-jarring impact that made the older woman gasp and double over.
But Sera didn't let her crumple. She yanked her upright by the collar of her ruined blouse, silk tearing further under her fingers, and drove her knee into Jenny's stomach. The air left Jenny's lungs in a wheeze, her forehead slamming against Sera's shoulder as she fought to stay on her feet. Sera didn't care.
She grabbed a handful of Jenny's hair, wrenching her head back to expose her throat, and punched her squarely in the jaw.

Jenny's head snapped sideways, a string of saliva flying from her lips as she staggered.
She barely had time to raise her arms before Sera was on her again--hammering blows into her forearms, her shoulders, anywhere she could reach.
One fist slipped through Jenny's guard, cracking against her cheekbone with a wet smack that sent a spray of blood across the wall.
Jenny's legs buckled, but Sera caught her by the throat, slamming her back against the drywall hard enough to make the framed certifications rattle.

Jenny's arms dropped like lead weights, her forearms purple with blooming bruises where she'd tried to block Sera's fists.
The last of her strength evaporated with each ragged breath, her back sliding down the wall until her knees hit the waterlogged linoleum.
Sera didn't stop. Her knuckles cracked against Jenny's cheekbone again--same spot, same angle--and this time Jenny's head lolled sideways without resistance, her dark hair sticking to the blood smeared across her jaw.

A wet cough bubbled up from Jenny's throat. She tried to lift a hand, fingers twitching toward Sera's wrist, but her arm collapsed mid-motion, her manicured nails scraping uselessly against the floor. The bergamot perfume had long since drowned in the coppery stench of blood and sweat, the scent clinging to the damp air between them. Sera's next punch landed softer, her fist unclenching halfway to brush against Jenny's split lip instead.
The fight had left her too, the adrenaline leaching away to reveal the trembling in her own limbs.

Sera stepped back, letting Jenny drop first to her booted knees and then collapse fully onto her stomach, her cheek pressed against the cold, wet linoleum.
The once-pristine leather of her thigh-high boots was scuffed beyond recognition now, the sheen dulled by water and dirt. Sera massaged her bruised knuckles, her breath still uneven as she admired the sight of Jenny--her supervisor, her tormentor, the immaculate Jennifer Lee--sprawled at her feet like a discarded coat.

Jenny's chest rose and fell in shallow, laboured breaths, her torn blouse clinging to her sweat-slicked skin.
A rivulet of blood traced a crooked path from her split lip down to her chin, pooling briefly in the hollow of her throat before dripping onto the floor.
Sera crouched, her knees popping from the strain of the fight, and reached out to brush a strand of dark hair from Jenny's face.
The movement was almost tender--if you ignored the blood smeared across both their hands.

The toe of Sera's kitten heel nudged Jenny's ribs, rolling her onto her back with a wet squelch against the flooded linoleum.
Jenny groaned softly, her eyelids fluttering--half-conscious, half-dazed from the beating.
Her ruined blouse gaped open, revealing the ugly purple bloom of a bruise across her sternum.
Sera opened her mouth to say something vicious, something final, when the elevator dinged behind her.

The doors slid open to reveal Mark clutching a takeout bag, flanked by two wide-eyed associates from Compliance.
All three froze mid-step, their expressions cycling through shock, disbelief, and--in Mark's case--something dangerously close to admiration.
The Thai food in his hands tilted precariously, a dribble of red curry leaking onto the elevator floor.

"What happened here...?" Mark's whisper hung in the air like a struck match, his eyes darting between Jenny's sprawled form and Sera's bloodied fists.
The curry sauce dripped onto his shoes unnoticed. One of the Compliance associates made a small, strangled noise--like a mouse caught in a trap.
Sera straightened slowly, her knees popping. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, smearing Jenny's blood across her cheek.
The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting jagged shadows across the wreckage--the overturned water cooler, the shattered glass,
Jenny's single pearl earring glinting in the spreading puddle.

"Nothing special..." Sera sighed, rolling her shoulders as she turned to face Mark and the gaping associates.
She nudged Jenny's limp leg with her toe, the scuffed leather of her kitten heel squeaking against wet vinyl.
"I settled a difference of opinion with my old supervisor."
A drop of blood fell from her split lip onto Jenny's torn blouse, blooming like a tiny crimson flower on the ruined silk.
"Think I'm resigning now..." She laughed--a sharp, breathless sound that made the Compliance associates flinch.

Mark's takeout bag hit the floor with a splat, noodles spilling across the linoleum in greasy tangles.
His Adam's apple bobbed as his gaze travelled from Jenny's swollen face to the dent in the drywall.
"Jesus Christ, Nguyen," he whispered. One of the associates fumbled for his phone, fingers trembling over the emergency call button.

Sera's fingers flexed at her sides, the sting of split knuckles grounding her as she stared down at Jenny's limp form.
The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, flickering slightly as if even they were holding their breath.
The air smelled of spilled water, copper, and the faintest trace of bergamot still clinging to Jenny's ruined blouse.

"But first I want to do something more with this nasty bitch here..." Sera murmured, more to herself than to the stunned audience behind her.
She crouched, her knees popping from the strain, and grabbed a fistful of Jenny's hair.
The senior analyst groaned weakly as Sera dragged her upward, her head lolling like a broken puppet's until their faces were inches apart. Sera could see the exact moment Jenny's vision cleared--the way her pupils contracted, the flutter of panic beneath bruised eyelids.

Sera let Jenny slump back onto the wet linoleum with a dull thud, then hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her own jeans.
The denim peeled down her thighs with a slow, deliberate drag--fabric catching on the fresh scratches Jenny had left there minutes earlier.
Jenny's eyelids fluttered as Sera straddled her shoulders, the heat of her bare thighs pressing against Jenny's flushed cheeks before she lowered herself fully.

The sudden warmth of Sera's pussy against Jenny's mouth and nose made the older woman jerk weakly, her hands twitching upward in a half-hearted attempt to push her off. Sera caught both wrists effortlessly, pinning them to the floor with her knees as she leaned forward.
"Breathe," Sera commanded, her voice rough from shouting. She felt Jenny's nose wrinkle beneath her, the panicked exhale through flared nostrils sending a shudder up her own spine.

Behind her, Mark's takeout bag hit the floor again--he'd picked it up only to drop it a second time when Sera yanked Jenny's leggings apart with a single vicious tear. The sound of ripping fabric echoed off the empty hallway walls, followed by a gasp from one of the associates as Jenny's thong was exposed--a flimsy black triangle already damp with more than just spilled water.

Mark fumbled for his phone, nearly dropping it twice before finally managing to activate the camera.
The two associates beside him hesitated--one with his fingers still hovering over the emergency call button, the other clutching his own phone like it might bite him. Sera didn't wait for their readiness. She ground down harder against Jenny's face, feeling the older woman's muffled gasp vibrate through her thighs.
"Clock's ticking," Sera taunted, rolling her hips in slow, deliberate circles that smeared Jenny's lipstick across her inner thighs.
The senior analyst's nose pressed insistently against her clit as she squirmed beneath the weight--not fighting now, just struggling to breathe through the relentless pressure. Sera leaned forward, bracing one hand against the wet wall for balance while the other twisted cruelly in Jenny's hair.
"You wanted me to stay late? Here's your overtime, boss."

Sera's fingers plunged deep, knuckles-deep, the tight heat of Jenny's pussy clenching around her with involuntary tremors.
Her fingertips curled upward, finding that ridged spot inside that made Jenny's hips jerk despite the weight pinning her down.
The older woman's muffled scream vibrated against Sera's own throbbing clit as she rocked forward, grinding her slick folds over Jenny's nose and mouth in brutal counterpoint to the pistoning thrusts of her hand.

"You like that?" Sera hissed, twisting her wrist to drag her nails along sensitive inner walls.
Jenny's back arched off the linoleum, her thighs trembling where they were splayed open by Sera's knees.
The wet squelch of fingers fucking into her was obscenely loud in the hallway, punctuated by the choked gasps Jenny managed between Sera's relentless grinding. Behind them, Mark's phone hit the floor with a clatter, his recording forgotten as he gripped his own belt buckle with white-knuckled intensity.

Jenny's moans grew louder, muffled but unmistakable against Sera's wet flesh.
Her body bucked beneath Sera's weight, hips lifting in erratic jerks as if trying to escape the relentless fingers inside her--or maybe chase them deeper.
Sera could feel the vibrations of Jenny's moans through her thighs, the hot exhales fluttering against her swollen clit with every ragged breath Jenny managed to steal.

Then Jenny's entire body locked up--her thighs clamping around Sera's wrist with sudden, vise-like pressure.
A strangled scream tore from her throat, audible even through the muffling press of Sera's pussy.
The first jet hit Sera's inner thighs with shocking force, warm and slick, before the second erupted higher--arcing over Sera's shoulder to splatter against the water-stained wall behind them. Jenny's back arched off the floor, her boots scuffing frantic lines into the wet linoleum as her orgasm ripped through her in pulsing waves.

Jenny's legs kicked the air before falling down to the floor with a deep thud, the pointed toes of her fashion boots remaining still canted out, still.
Sera stood up smiling, her thighs glistening under the harsh fluorescent lights.
She looked at Jenny's unconscious form--her supervisor's face now covered by a shining layer of juices, mascara streaking down her cheeks in black rivulets that mixed with saliva and something thicker.
The once-pristine leather of Jenny's thigh-highs was ruined beyond recognition, scuffed and water-stained, one boot's zipper hanging open where Sera had clawed at it during their struggle.

Mark's phone hit the linoleum for the third time, the screen cracking as it skittered under the water cooler's overturned base.
One of the compliance associates had backed into the elevator doors, his pressed khakis tenting visibly at the front.
Sera didn't bother covering herself as she turned toward them, letting them see the red marks Jenny's teeth had left on her inner thighs, the way her torn blouse clung to her sweat-slicked torso. "Problem?" she asked, rolling her shoulders until the joint popped.

The elevator doors slid shut with a soft chime, cutting off the view of Jenny's motionless form sprawled across the flooded hallway.
Mark's fingers twitched against his cracked phone screen, his throat working silently as he tried--and failed--to form a coherent sentence.
The taller compliance associate had pressed himself against the mirrored wall, his Adam's apple bobbing as he stared fixedly at the ceiling.
The other one clutched his tie like a lifeline, knuckles whitening around the silk.

Sera leaned back against the elevator railing, letting her torn blouse gape open further.
A drop of sweat traced down her sternum, disappearing into the waistband of her unbuttoned jeans.
She watched their reactions with lazy amusement, licking the last traces of blood from her split lip.
The silence stretched until Mark finally blurted, "HR's going to--" before cutting himself off when Sera's laugh echoed sharply in the confined space.

The elevator doors remained mercifully closed for exactly 1.7 seconds before sliding open again--just long enough for Sera to see her own reflection in the polished metal, hair wild and blouse torn like some corporate warrior goddess.
Then reality came flooding back in with the ding, along with three security guards who nearly collided with Mark and the shell-shocked associates.
"Floor 38 disturbance report," barked the lead guard, his hand already resting on his taser. His eyes swept over Sera's disheveled state, the blood on her knuckles, then darted to Mark's ashen face. "What the hell happened--"

[Agraf]

It's a pity that these office girls' temper prevented them from coming to a sensible agreement: postponing their argument to next Friday at 5 p.m., at Sera's place. There, in that secluded but comfy hut, they could fight without cumbersome heels and clothing, and let out their raw rage in the raw, all evening long, with the week-end to take care of their wounds or... discover they loved each other.

[Dirty bad bitch]

Fiercely hawt! 

- Sonja Sin

[Dirty bad bitch]