[sinclairfan]

"WHAT WERE ANDREW AND YOU JUST DOING?"

Monday night, at approximately 6pm, shortly after Bella and Andrew's mom comes home from work, (and no doubt gets an extremely exaggerated recap of the morning confrontation between Bella and me over Andrew's itinerary for the day), our front doorbell rings, and my mom refuses to let Bella's mom in, but does agree to step onto the front porch with her.  Mom asks Andrew and I to join her.

Anyone can tell from the dishevelled hair on Andrew's and my head that we've been in bed all day.  We also have the wise-ass smirks on our faces that only thoroughly sexually sated people wear.  My satisfaction is two-fold:  I'm genuinely thoroughly fulfilled physically from a constant kissing and every-position-imaginable fest with Bella's brother; but I'm doubly satisfied at Bella's helplessness to retaliate in any way until her hand heals.  I knew I'd feel good from maiming Bella in a fight, but who knew the tangible benefits would be so practical as well?

Andrew's mom looks Andrew and me up and down disapprovingly.  She then visually dismisses us, and angrily addresses my mother.

> How dare you, luring my son, whoring out your own daughter, with the prospect of sexually wreckless and licentious behavior. 

> Now, you watch your mouth there, missus.  It's not Mother's Day anymore, and I'll have no compunction about sendin' you to the same urgent care center ya' needed to take Bella to yesterday.  And b'sides, Andrew is old enough to make his own decisions.  And Nicole wasn't whorin'.  Her and Andrew might be a serious couple.  Ain't that right, Nicole?

> That's right, Momma.  Andrew and I are both "single as the day is long", as they say, and both lookin' for someone.  We met at a ppuuuurrr-fect time in our lives.

Andrew's slowness at exchanging banter becomes ever-more evident the longer I know him, and is starting to grate on me.  But it's just as well in this particular exchange--this conversation is for women only.

> Ok, fine, Nasty Nicole. <<<<I instantly hate that nickname--it hits too close to home.>>>>> You're thinking of a future with Andrew?  I call you on that.  What kind of a future do you figger him and you have if he drops out of junior college his first year.

Bella's mom has me on that one.  I have sex long yesrs, 2012 to 2018, of learning first hand how much economic insecurity sucks.  And as good as the sex has been with Andrew yesterday and today, my womanly nesting instincts tell me that that can only take a couple so far--we need a roof to "do it' under.  And my mother's patience, and desire to prank Bella's mom, won't last more than a few weeks.  Especially when she has to change and wash the sheets in the bed everyday.

I'm also 100% genuine in my desire to have a real, actual relationship with Andrew.  He's 5 years younger than me, which makes me feel super-safe--he'll be driving me to the doctor in old age, not the other way around.  And he's like pottery clay in my hands--I've caught him at an age where no girl has taught him how relationships work.  There's only one girl who has influenced him--his bitchy older sister Bella.  Prying him out of her grip will be a pleasure.

So, I want a real relationship, not a hookup.  So time to get real.  Andrew needs a job and a career.  And one that requires an actual education.  He needs to take, and pass, his finals. 

> Fine, I'll drive him to his finals.  <<<I haven't even consulted Andrew, but this conversation is moving too quickly for him.>>>>>

> He needs more than a ride there, dumb ass.  Uber can provide that to him.  He needs to brush up on his material.  Do you know analytic geometry, including all inverse and hyperbolic trigonometric functions, Miss Smarty Pants?

> I don't.  But less me guess who does.  Perfect Priss Bella?   <<<<my voice drips with sarcasm at needing help from my hated rival>>>>>  Is that the rrreal reason she's home this month?

> That's right, Nasty Nicole.  Giving me a Mother's Day hug, and tanglin' with you finally, were just frosting.  The cake was helpin' her baby brother.  How's it feel?

Now it's my Mom's turn to get angry.  She steps up into Bella's mom's face.

> It feels like there's only one of whorin' their daughter, and it ain't me.

> You wanna go, bitch?

> If we do, I promise ya, that urgent care center that treated Bella won't be enough for the injuries I'll give 'ya.

Bella's mom surveys my mom's eyes and posture.  She can tell she's poked a genuine hornet's nest.  Besides, she achieved what she came her to accomplish--she's pried Andrew away for Finals Week.  We all know Bella needs to help him pass. 

He'll be spending the week with her.

My pussy kinda needs a rest anyways, I rationalize to myself.
***************************
On Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, I seethe that Andrew is studying with Bella.  I hope he hasn't forgotten me.  I text him my 38c tits, and he texts me his dick.

On Friday, I miss Andrew horribly.  I know Bella is driving him to a final, and I know where his junior college is.  I decide to surprise him, ...  THEM ...., after the last final.  Bella will still be in her cast--the only trouble between her and me will be verbal.  The inevitable physical clash between us won't be until Memorial Day at the earliest.  My purpose in driving there is to try and get Andrew to come home with me, not Bella.  He and I can hit Chipotle or something--our first real live date.

His last final ends at 1.30.

I pull up my my car at 1:25.  There's Bella's.  I can't see her--the car's windows are tinted.  But I know it's hers.

The car starts rocking.  What the fuck?  Is Bella doing it. .... with herself ..... with someone .... in there?

The rocking has been going on for three minutes.  Long enough for me to get out of my car and tap on the window.  The driver's window rolls down.

Bella and Andrew are inside.

> Oh, hey, Nasty Nicole.  <<<<<Bella's nonchalance irks me.>>>>

> WHAT WERE YOU AND ANDREW JUST DOING?

> Celebrating the end of finals.  Why?

> Andrew.  Miss me?  Come in my car and we can go to Chipotle.

> He doesn't want to go with you Nasty Nicole.  Not now, not ever.  Isn't that right, Andrew?

Andrew nods feebly.

I feel my heart split open.  Bella sees my hesitation, rolls down the window, and drives off.

I get home.

I tell my mother what happened.

I ask her for Bella's home phone number.  She gives it to me.

I call.  Bella answers.

> Hello, Nicole.

> Where and when, bitch.

> My backyard, Memorial Day morning, 7am, slut.  Before it gets hot out.

> See you there.

To be continued.....

[sinclairfan]

"WHAT'S THE DEAL WITH YOU AND BELLA?"

The 2 weeks between Mother's Day and Memorial Day becomes a waiting game of Bella and I waiting for her hand to heal so that she and I can finish our fight.

Bella keeping Andrew and I separated has, of course, achieved Bella's goal of ruining the rhythm Andrew and I had developed and established the Sunday night and all-day Monday when we were in each others' bedrooms.  My mom was right that Andrew is 19 and can make his own decisions, and his decision to not come visit my house speaks more words than any actual conversation that he and I could have at this point.

And, yet, everytime I look at their house, especially when their mom isn't home, my jealousy gets the best of me and I can't help but wonder:  what's the deal with Bella and Andrew?  Why was Bella's car rocking when they were in the junior college parking lot after Andrew's last exam?  They can't seriously have been having sex, can they?  Do brothers and sisters actually do that?  I know the gloves are off these days and most taboos are allowed, but not that one, right? 

And yet.  What's up with the two of them?  When I fought Bella and then fucked Andrew, I noticed they smelled almost identical.  Like, freaky identical.  Do they smell the same because their bodies are constantly .....  I don't know, pressed together?  Do they sleep in the same bed?  Andrew's bed seemed three sizes too small for him.  When their mom falls asleep at night, does Andrew sneak into Bella's bed?  Bella's 24--is that why she's not married yet?

Or is my imagination just causing me to conjure up the strangest, most ridiculous thoughts?  Did Andrew simply ditch me?

The Saturday of Memorial Day weekend, the village water park opens.  I remember that in past years, Andrew used to work there as a life guard.  I figure that if I can catch him in his chair there, he'll have no choice but to talk to me.  I get out my tiniest bikini, and take my chances.

Jackpot, and jackpot.  The first being that the weather is nippy, so the crowds are small.  The second being that, yes, Andrew is working as a lifeguard. 

Seeing him sitting on his chair with his thick sandy blonde hair blowing thru the breeze breaks my heart.  Why does he need to be Bella's brother?  Why can't he just be a regular 19 year old that I run away with?  Why didn't I visit my mom these past 5 years, and notice that Andrew was growing up, and seduce him then?

I walk over to the pool edge under his chair, sit, and dangle my legs into the frigid water.

Hey, sailor.

Hey, Nicole.  Looking good. 

Thanks.  Not that I can't take a compliment, but do you mean my suit?  My tan?

I actually meant your hair, since you ask.

Oh, thanks.  It actually usually looks like this, tho.  It's just that the last time you saw it, Bella had been ripping it out.  Ya know, when she and I fought.

Yes, I remember.  How could anyone forget that?

Sssooo, you still think about that?

Everyday.

Can I ask .... I know this sounds insecure, but indulge me:  you think about it, like how?  Like, me getting dishevelled?  Cuz, I don't like you thinking about me that way.

<<<<This conversation has gotten philosophically deep way faster than I wanted it to, and Andrew's slowness in back-and-forth conversation has reasserted itself.  I need to get us back to basics.  I decide to get right to the point.>>>>>

Andrew, do you sleep with Bella?   <<<<Whoops, too direct.  I beat a quick tactical retreat>>>>  I mean, I won't judge you if you do, or tell anyone.  It's just ....  she's 24 and you're 19, I don't want her forcing you into anything you're not ready for.

<<<<My I'm-here-to-help-you approach works--Andrew's whole posture loosens up.  I'll need to remember that with younger guys  ... and girls ... in the future.>>>>

Nicole, actually, there is something I need to get off my chest.  Bella isn't forcing me into anything, she never has.  She's actually not even trying to.  Just the opposite.  What it is is ....  it's like this ....   ever since the afternoon I saw you and Bella fighting in the grass, I'm horny 24/7.  I rub one out, and I already need to do it again.  And ever since Bella got my mom to take me from your place, Bella is the same way .... uncontrollably horny.  So, Bella and I would be sitting at our dining room table, doing these Analytic Geometry exercises for my final--nothing less sexy than that, right?  But the whole time we both know the other one is totally distracted .... and we start lying and saying we need to go to the bathroom ... but it's obvious we're both lying because you can't hear any peeing happening .... so obviously we're masturbating in the bathroom.... first her, then me.  And then when we're done studying, we go to our own bed rooms, and we both know we're totally masturbating ourselves.  Nicole, I swear, we never did anything remotely like this with each other, ever.  So finally, to give me incentive to pass my final I guess, Bella said if I passed, and stayed away from you, she'd let us masturbate in front of each other, instead of hiding it from each other.  And I know it sounds weird and like I'm leaving parts out, but Nicole I swear we Bella and I don't kiss or touch at all, but we've been masturbating in front of each other for over a week.  So there you go.  Do you hate me now?

<<<<Now it's my turn to be quiet, think, and process.  My first thought is, I totally believe Andrew's story.  My second thought is:  is what Andrew and Bella are doing ... incest?  Or are they stopping before they get to the line?  Or, if you need to even ask that question, have you already crossed that line?  But, I better stop thinking and answer Andrew, before he withdraws from me.>>>>

Andrew, that's actually kinda hot.  But if you've been so horny, why didn't you just visit me?  I'm home sll day ....  and night.

Nicole, believe me, it's been tempting.  But Bella told me that if you're .... frustrated ....  sexually .... the next time you and her fight ...  that the fight will be even more vicious.

And you want to see a vicious girlfight?

Yes.

Well, I can understand that, Andrew.  Because I want to be in one.

To be continued......

[sinclairfan]

SUNDAY NIGHT

The night before Memorial Day, after I've climbed into bed, I get a text from Bella.

> Andrew says you want to be in a vicious catfight.

> Andrew knows all my wants and needs, hun.

> Umm, ya.  He's 19--let's talk about you.  What's a vicious catfight?  In your opinion?

> I used to think it involved a trip for medical help afterwards, until your little mishap.  And I do mean little, Miss Carpal Tunnel.

> And now?  What vicious?

> Hurting each other, woman to woman.

> Why do you want that so bad?

> Am I under arrest, Officer?

> Nicole, fuck you. 

> Fuck your brother, why don't you, Bella?

> I never fucked my brother, Nicole.

> Well I have, so suck on it, Bella.

> Are you 13?

> No I'm 24 and I fuck like it and I fight like it.

> Do 24 year olds fight vicious?  Because I didn't see it in our last fight.

> That I admit.  I had you and didn't finish you, but I will tomorrow.

> What will you do to me?

> What do you want me to do to you?

> I want you to crawl up in the fetal position and save yourself the humiliation.

> Nah, not vicious enough.

> This conversation is so inane and stupid I can actually feel brain cells dying.

> Umm, ya, you texted me, Bella, not the other way around.

> You answered.

> My mistake.  I've made others.  Like not jumping your skinny, weak ass in high school.

> I would have won.

> No chance, sweetie.  No fucking chance.

> I stll don't know what's involved in a vicious catfight.

> Ok, fine.  I'll spell it out.  When you show tomorrow, arrive in clothes that are easy to get out of.

> Like a bathrobe.

> That'll do.

> Done.

> Bitch.

> Brotherfucker.

[sinclairfan]

EVE OF THE FIGHT

The Sunday night of Memorial Day weekend, less than 12 hours before my second fight with Bella, I can't sleep a wink.  The house is humid--our air conditioner must be leaking freon, or whatever the coolant is called.  I remember why I've spent so little time at home since high school--my mom is doing ok for herself financially as long as no unexpected expenses come up.  But our house is getting old--things are breaking, and my mom isn't fixing them ....  or not all of them. I'd love getting Andrew ....  getting with him  ....  before he racks up college debt.  Is that why Bella visits home so much?  Because she has college loan debt?  Is that why she's not married?

Are Bella and her mom hoping Andrew will support them?  I would love for him to support me for that reason alone. 

I masturbate to the thought of Andrew telling me that Bella gets off by cockblocking me.  I know how she feels.  I remember when I dated the boy with the crazy ex-girlfriend.  I loved the thought, the power, of cockblocking her.  It used to get me totally horny and ready for sex; it was the ideal foreplay.   I want to take that feeling away from Bella tomorrow by winning my fight with her, with Andrew watching.  I cum in a lllooonnnngggg slow wave.

I hope cumming like that will help me sleep.  It doesn't.  Shit, it's humid in here.  I'm sweating from every fucking crack.  My butt.  My pussy.  My boobs.

I wish Andrew was hrre to lick my there.

Ffffuucckkk.  I need to sleep.  What if I'm tired tomorrow for the fight?  What if that's the reason I lose?

Is Bella sleeping now?  Should I text her?  No, I decide.  I don't want her to know I'm not sleeping.

I need to get out of this stuffy bedroom.

I go into the den.  Shit, that's weird.  My mom is up.

> Can't sleep, baby doll?  Me neither.

> Why can't YOU sleep?  <<<Why did that come out so harsh?>>>>

> Worried 'bout that fight, darlin'.

> Don't be, momma.  Let me do the worryin'.

> Any questions for me, darlin'?

> Did any of the hot rod chicks you grew up with ever have a .... vicious catfight?  I mean, like, planned one?

> Yep.  But always in private.  Never with the boys watchin'.

>  Cuz why?

> Cuz there's no way ta' have that kinda fight and keep yer dignity, I 's'ppose.

> Did you ever see one?  A vicious catfight?

> One.

> And?  Did both girls lose their dignity?  Even the winner?

> Yep.

> Was it still worth it?  For the winner?

> Thast's a good question, baby doll.  I don't know for sure.

> What's yer guess?

<<<<<Long pause.>>>>>

> My guess is it was the best day of her life.

> And the loser?

> I'm sure she wishes she won ....  but the best day of her life, too.

> I wasn't there, but I'm thinkin' the same, too.

I don't tell my mom the one thing I think those two girls back then got wrong.

They shoulda' let the boy they were fightin' over watch the fight.

To be continued......

[sinclairfan]

"MOM, WHAT DO I DO ?!?"

In the humid, ineffectively air-conditioned greenhouse conditions of my mother's decaying home, I toss and turn in my bed, sweat dripping off my upper torso.  I slip in and in out sleep, vaguely terrifying nightmares haunting my subconscious.  Do these nightmares foreshadow Bella hurting me in our catfight tomorrow morning?, I wonder.

Tomorrow morning.  What time is it, anyways?  A lot of light seems to be creeping under my shade.  I go into my bathroom to look at the nearest clock.

7:37 ?!?!?@?  Seven fucking thirty-seven ?  I overslept for my fucking catfight?  Sssshhhiiitt-  I was supposed to meet Bella at 7.

I rush to my mother's bedroom in a panic, not even bothering to throw on a top.  "Mom!!!!  What do I do?!?  I overslept for my fight with Bella!!  She and Andrew probably think I chickened out!!  What do I...."

My mom interrupts my meltdown: "You pull yer-self t'gether and you git yer-self over there, is what you do, hunny.  Go!  Git!"

Fuck.  I'm going to have to fight without a shower.  My hair looks like total shit.  Fuck, I could never live in this house full time-- I'd look 24-going-on-45 all the time.  Why can't my mom fucking maintain this house?  Or find a man to maintain it for her?  Has she been waiting for me to find that man? Is Andrew that man?  Is that why Bella and Bella's mom are so worried about Andrew's grades?  Are they counting on Andrew to take care of them? 

Think, Nicole, think.

Bella said to wear a bathrobe to the fight, so that we can catfight nude.  I strip off my panties and find my bathrobe in my closet.  Fuck, my legs have so much stubble, this is going to be so fucking embarrassing fighting like this.  Andrew will never want me.  Fuck, should I shower anyways?  What time is it?  7:52?  Seven fucking fifty-two?  How is time going by so fucking fast? 

The fight should be over by now.  Andrew and I should be in his bed, fucking.  Him getting me pregnant.

I go out the front door, stepping into a pair of flip-flops, bare-naked under my lavender flannel bathrobe.  There are no cars out, thank goodness--it's a holiday morning.  I walk towards Bella's house.  I sssoo want to fight.  Arranging a fight is stupid, I decide.  Two girls who want to fight should just fucking fight.

Those neighborhood touch football games were perfect.  Every girl from the neighborhood is there.  You just line up against the girl you have a problem with, or who has a problem with you, and you just start jabbing at or pinching her tits.  You know what my problem was, all those years with Bella?  It was TOO easy.  I over-thought things.  I didn't need to fight Bella after school.  I woulda coulda shoulda fought her at one of those football games.  Like the afternoon she pulled on my underboob.  That was it.  That was the day we should have fought.

So.  Fucking.  Easy.  Why do I always overcomplicate things?

In the distance, I can hear a parade.  The neighborhood Memorial Day celebrations are underway.  The horns and drum sounds, and me in my bathrobe, nude underneath, remind me on Graduation Day, 6 years ago, in 2012.  For two reasons.  First, I spent all that day wondering if Bella and I would fight later that afternoon or night over the rumor I had spread about her being bi.  (We didn't.)  But second, some girls in our class supposedly went to the ceremony nude under their graduation gown.  All of the boys in the class were staring at every girl's midsection, trying to guess which girls were nude underneath.  I remember boys who never gave me any attention at all for four years staring at me intently for minutes.  Why did they think I was one of the girls who would do that?  Did I have a trashy reputation?  Had Bella retaliated by spreading rumors about ME?  Did they want me to be one of the nude girls, knowing I had 38c's?  Were they hoping I'd flash them?

With all the catfight possibilities in the air, and all the furtive staring, it was the best day of my life.

What a fucking letdown the next 6 years were.

And then today.  Catfighting is in the air again.  And fucking.  And Bella.  Finally.

I'm in Bella's backyard now.  No one's here.  Fuck.  I must be over an hour late.  I hope I didn't fucking blow this.  The chance of a lifetime.

I go to the backdoor.  I jiggle the knob.  The door opens.

I sneak thru the house.  Maybe Abdrew is home.  Maybe he and I can fuck.  I've literally never been hornier.

I hear giggling and muffled breathing.  Bedroom sounds.  It's Andrew and Bella.  Bella thinks I've surrendered Andrew to her.  Stupid skank.

What room are they in?  They're downstairs, in the finished basement.  Fuck, the stairs are skinny and narrow.  And loud.  They can't hear me?  What are they fucking doing??  Masturbating again??  Sick.

The finished basement is mildewy and humid, as bad as my mom's house.  My hair is oily and flat.  There's clothes and blankets all over the floor, with 1970s shag carpeting and old couches and beanbag chairs.

I turn the corner.  Andrew and Bella are naked in a tiny 7ft by 7ft corner room, sitting on beanbag chairs, legs wide open watching each other finger themselves.  Bella doesn't miss a beat.

"We were afraid you forgot about us, bitch."

"Bella, not only did I not forget.  On the way over, I remembered.  I remembered how fucking bad I've wanted to catfight you for Six.  Fucking.  Years."  I remove my bathrobe, and show them my naked body.

"Then what are we waiting for, slut?"

I see red.

Bella and I lunge for each others' hair.  Hers is clean and blow-dried, the exact opposite of mine.  Her skin is soft and showered, the opposite of mine.  Andrew has spent the last hour masturbating to the view and smell of it.

I need to fuck it up.  To make it was sweaty and oily and ugly as mine.

I tear at Bella's breasts, like I should have at that coed football game.

Screeching echoes thru the tiny room, noise bouncing off the ancient walls.

We fall onto the clothes-filled floor in a heap, kicking violently.

This fight is just getting starting.

To be continued......

[sinclairfan]

LET'S BASEMENT

Bella and I continue catfighting in the pile of clean and dirty underwear and delicates in Bella and Andrew's mildewy, humid finished basement.  Bella and I tumble off of some sort of futon onto the carpeted floor.  I can tell the clean linens from their fabric-softener smell.  And I can tell the dirty ones because they smell like Bella and Andrew.

If there's anything I've learned, but not understood, these past two weeks, it's that Bella and her brother smell the same.  And by that, I mean, The Exact Same.  How is that possible?  Andrew is a 19 year old man-boy with an exquisite cock.  Bella is a 24 year old woman who spends a fortune on hair styling and pedicures.

My jealous imagination runs away with me.  Are Bella and Andrew fucking sleeping with each other.  Do brothers and sisters their age do that?  What if the house they live in is small and dated?  What if their bedrooms are next to each other?  What if the boy is a late bloomer and becomes a hunk overnight?  Can they resist each other?  Would they get curious and experiment?

Is that why Bella has been spending so much time in her childhood neighborhood?

Bella and I roll in a catball over to Andrew, who's loving the girlfight in progress at his knees.  I let my hair brush against his cock.  Thrn my body.  Andrew loves it.  Bella hates it.

> Stay away from him, bitch.

> Look how much he likes it, slut.

> Stay away.

> Make me.

> I intend to.

Bella pulls me down by my hair, but I let her push me down onto my butt and towards Andrew and his semi-erect cock.  I slide my butt towards his lap, Andrew receiving the gift of a lapdance from two fighting bitches, me between the two siblings.  I back up and position my soaked pussy to slide onto Andrew's cock, but he's not hard enough yet to penetrate me.

To be continued....

[sinclairfan]

CLIMAX WITH BELLA

As the minutes pass, I become excruciatingly frustrated at Andrew's inability to penetrate me.  I crave the release of his long, wide cock exploding into my pussy.  There's a full-blown bitchfight unfolding inches from him--why isn't he rock hard by now?

I can't stand the unfulfilled desire an instant longer.  Being in Bella's basement, surrounded by her laundry, clean and dirty, is driving my senses wild.  Bella and I are the adults in this room.  She and I need to resolve our issues.  Like adults.

Six years ago, in 2012, we weren't quite adults, yet.  Not quite adult enough to go over to each others' house after school to make out.  Not quite adult enough to square off on the coed flag football field, come at each others' tits, and totally have it out on the ground, like the older pretty blonde girls who were dating, or had dated, the same boys did. 

But we are now.

The light bulb goes off.  I get an inspiration.  I push Bella away from me, and motion that I have something to say.

> Ok, Bella.  Here's a proposition for you.  A way to resolve the shit between you and me.  For good.  It's 2012.  Right here, right now in this basement.  We're playing flag football.  You're on defense, rushing the passer.  I'm on offense, blocking.  Andrew is the quarterback.  If you can get at him, you win.  He's yours.  If I block you, I win.  He's mine.  Care to try me, bitch?

Andrew complains, "But I don't have a football."

I toss him a set of used panties, presumably Bella's:  "Here ya go, sailor.  Go crazy."

Bella's stare bores down on me:  "You can't stop me, whore."

"Then let's go."

Bells charges towards her brother, and I stand on the way and brace myself, just like I learned by watching in 2012.  We crash together in a collision of flesh, hair, and sweat, a cacophony of sounds echoing thru the basement.  Sweat splashes of our bodies and sprinkles onto the wall.  Bella and I are on the floor, trying to regain our bearings, and grab each others' hair.

Childhood memories flood my memories.  High school seniors in writhing catballs, yanking hair and clothes and tits in jealous anger at the side chick of their prom date or first love.  Continuing their catfighting even as the fottball game proceeds without them.

That's Bella and me right now.  Both oblivious to Andrew.  We catfight furiously.

And then I realize something.  I'm hungry and thirsty.  In oversleeping, I forgot to either eat breakfast or drink anything.  You know the saying, "I could eat ANYthing?".  Well, I could drink anything right now.

Even Bella's sweat.  As it drips down her face.  I see a rivulet of her cheek, and I lick it, tasting salt.  I lick her upper lip.  Her tongue reaches out to mine, and out tongues touch.

It's 2012 again.  But instead of watching girls fight on thr flag football field, it's now a weekday afternoon.  School has ended.  Brlla is home alone for three hours, before her mom gets home from work.  I've worked up the courage to "visit" Bella after school, to "do French homework".

And we're tongue kissing.  Deep and hard and almost as violently as our fight.

I feel my pussy alresmady cumming.  I pull Bells closer, our erect tits pushing into each other, my larger tits winning our tit battle.

Our tongues flap into each other, making smacking sounds that reverberate through the mildewy basement.

We talk to each other between breaths.

Bella.

Nicole.

Bella.

Nicole.

Fight me.

Kiss me.

Bite me.

Pin me.

Tackle me.

Block me.

Do you want my brother?

I want you fuck me Bella fuck me Bella fuck me Bella.

I am Nicole I am I am I am fucking you I am.

Bella and I are scissoring viloently.  I remember one of the earliest neighborhood coed flag football games I ever saw, two pretty blonde girls, in cutoff jeans, sliding their inner thighs together.  I didn't understand what they were doing.

But I do now.

Fuck me Bella fuck me fuck me fuck me.

Bella doesn't talk.

Her mouth is too busy sucking my 38c's.

I hope this morning never ends.

THE END