[sinclairfan]

Dramatis personae:

Setting--a wealthy Florida Gulf Coast Key

Taylor: an 18-year old blonde beauty, an Honor Roll student, on her way to Princeton in the fall.  Taylor is Franklin's new girlfriend.  She is expected by her strict parents to cut him loose over the summer to enter Princeton unencumbered.  But she has been strangly non-commital to date (late March).

Jordyn--an even (slightly) more attractive blonde, now 19.  She's staying local for school, getting a free-ride from UF.  She intends to transfer to the Ivy League after two years, but her (equally strict) parents don't need to know that yet.  She had secured an invitation to prom from Franklin before he started dating Taylor.  He has been a gentleman and kept his commitment to Jordyn.  They will attend prom "as friends".  It's a common thing kids do these days.

Jordyn thought a "clearing the air" face-to-face conversation with Taylor would be the mature thing to do before prom on Friday (boy, was she wrong--more on that below). 

Taylor and Jordyn have never met, although they've stalked the heck out of each others' social media pages the past 30 days.

Jordyn picks a Sunday to visit Taylor's house.  Unannounced.  She assumes Taylor's workaholic family will be home on Sunday, and the two high school seniors can have a drama-free polite chat.

She thought wrong.  Taylor's parents are working today, one in healthcare at a locsl hospital, the other at a Sunday Board meeting.

So when Jordyn rings the doorbell, Taylor is home alone and answers the door.  She normally ignores the doorbell when she's home alone.  But she has let Franklin know she's home alone, and she's hoping he's making a booty call.

She instead disappointed to see Jordyn at the front door.  She attempts to hide her disappointment.

J>  Taylor?  Hi, I'm Jordyn.  I'm sorry to bother you on a Sunday.  Are you .... free?  Just real quick?  [extends her hand]

T> Jordyn!  [ignores the extended hand]  Yes, nice to meet you.  Franklin told me so much about you.

J> [reacting quizzickly to the ignored handshake--glanes doen at her hand and extends is even closer to Taylor]

T>  Oh, I'm sorry.  Not to be rude but ....  I know masking is over [rolls eyes] especially in Florida; but handshaking still isn't a thing yet.  Maybe never.  My mom an ICU doctor ...  she told me.  Germs, ya know.

J> [Withdraws her hand.  Doesn't particularly want to shake Taylor's anymore, anyways.  What a snob this bitch is.  Maybe this visit was a bad idea.] Oh.  Sure, I get it.  But ... like, you don't shake Franklin's hand?

T> I'll thank you to not concern yourself with what Franklin and I do.  I thought he was clear about that with you when I agreed to let him keep his prom commitment to you.

J> [Ok, this conversation is going off the rails quickly.  Stay calm, Jordyn, stay calm.  Don't need to show up from prom with scratches on uour face.]  Yes, of course.  Taylor, I completely respect that.  I'm just .... it's just that I'm standing in the hot sun here .... Taylor, I know this visit was unannounced .... that's not my style, trust me .... but can we speak inside.  I promise to be out of your hair quickly.

T> Yes, of course.  Where are my Southern manners.  Please come in.

[The 2 girls bodies press surprisingly close together as Jordyn enters into the foyer.  Both girls notice the other's flawless hardbody physique.  Both girls smell their Sunday best.  Thei height appears to be identical.]

J> Taylor .... if you don't mind me asking .... your athletic profile online says you're 5'10".  But ... well it's just .... I'm 5'7", and we seem impeccably similar in height....

T> Say no more.  I can explain.  When high jump athletes get our measurements taken, we wear our athletic shoes.  They add 2 or 3 inches.  It's understood .... this isn't a Lori Loughlin scam situation ...

J> So.... what you're saying is ...  you and I ARE the same hieight?

T> It would appear so.

J> Interesting.

T> Interesting .... how??  exactly?

J> It's just .... here I was thinking you were taller than me ... had better reach.... that sort of thing.

T> And .... why would that matter, Jordyn??

J> Oh.  One never knows.  No?

To be continued....

[sinclairfan]

[Although Jordyn has secured an invitation inside--no easy trick on the uptight Key--she decides that her first five minutes of conversation with Taylor have gone catastrophically.  Jordyn has career aspirations to be a diplomat someday; and diplomats are supposed to stop arguments and ease tensions, not inflame them.]

[And yet .... what was that 'only in Florida' eye-roll from Taylor all about when their conversation touched on pandemic restrictions?  Although Jordyn and her parents are by no means Trump acolytes, Governor DeSantis is their governor is is doing a heckuva job for them, and, in their eyes, all Floridians.  Florida never had severe pandemic restrictions imposed on their citizens or [just as importantly] their tourist guests, and yet had no worse outbreaks than any other state in the country.  Taylor's parents are apparently in healthcare and unstandably should wear masks on the job.  But she's not one of those mask freaks, is she?]

[Let it go, Jordyn.  Let it go.  Just keep the peace till prom on Friday.  If Franklin dumps me npw, I literally have no back-up plan.]

J> Taylor, this house is lovely.  [It actually is; breathtakingly so.  Jordyn is willing to b.s. at this point, but on this commentary, she's not.] It's so hard getting contractors these days.

T> I know!  Isn't it?  Are your parents experiencing supply-chain shortages?

J> [Ok, actually my parents are doing quite well, bitch.]  Oh, you know.  A faucet fixture delay here, a tile size not standard anymore issue there.  Little things like that.

T> Are your parents gutting your place?

J> [Umm, actually it's brand new, slut.  They're just putting in upgrades which weren't standard.]  Ok, Taylor .... and maybe this is why I actually here ... so let me get to my point .... and then I'll leave you in peace ..... Taylor, when two girls are ...  friends with ... the same boy, they can tend to read the worst possible intent into each others' actions .... or words .... [Taylor opens her mouth, but does not speak--Jordyn is relieved:  she was prepared to speak over Taylor's voice] .... so I decided the way I could smooth things over with you .... in advance, not after the fact ... was to tell you .... well ... my point is this .... obviously, with Covid, prom was ... hybrid ... in 2020 and 2021 .... and we're all anxious to get back to normal in 2022 .... my school has a prom after-party .... which we're looking to resurrect in 2022 .... and COUPLES ONLY are invited.... it's on a private beach ...  and I'll be BORROWING Franklin .... late Friday, into Saturday ....

T> [interrupts at last] Negatory.  The deal was prom only.  No [air quotes] after parties.

J> Taylor, I assure you .... you don't understand my school's customs .... Rumors will be much more rampant if Franklin DON'T attend the after-party than if we do....

T> [Interrupting even more emphatically] Jordyn, I SAID NO.

[Both girls pause.  The tensionin the room is higher than both realized ...  or intended.  But neither is willing to play peacemaker.  Both are standing .... Jordyn wishes they were sitting.]

[Both hear the other breathing hard.]

[Well.  This is awkward.]

To be continued......

[sinclairfan]

As the amiableness and civility of their conversation continues to deteriorate, Taylor and Jordyn begin to become acutely attuned to the surroundings they are sharing.

Jordyn notices for the first time the 12-foot ceilings in the oversized home in which Taylor resides.  They match the 12-foot ceilings in Jordyn's newly-finished mansion.  Jordyn knows for a fact they are 12-foot, because one day when she was home alone and a light bulb went out, her 7-foot ladder and 5'7" frame were insufficient to change the bulb.  "What kind of stupid house is this," she wondered, "where you have to bring in a trade to change a stupid light bulb??".  Jordyn is also acutely aware of her having removed her Florida flip flops at the door, and of standing on the immaculately-polished marble floor in slacks.  She's wearing cargo shorts, which compliment her fitm butt, and a tank top which enhances her bust.  Her hair is bleached from the sunny spring.  She thinks it's a nicer shade of blonde than Taylor's.

Taylor is still wearing Sunday Church clothes.  Even though she never made it to services.  Franklin didn't take her hint about her being home alone.  She was so fucking horny for thick cock.  She was hoping by now they would have fucked twice ("twice on Sunday", right?).

Instead, she was trapped in the open-floor plan living area with his pain-in-the-ass prom date, Jordyn.  Jordyn didn't have the conndctions to get into Harvard-Yale-Princeton on the first try.  Her extra-cirriculars must have fallen short during the pandemic.  So she took the Florida state school route.

How quaint.
I hope she doesn't notice how I'm condescending to her.
Because then her parents will bitch to my parents.  And they'll hassle me.

Jordyn puts down her clutch purse.

That simple act is fraught with symbolism.

Is she getting ready to rumble??  In my fucking house?, wonders Taylor.

Does she think I'm challenging her?, wonders Jordyn.  Should I pick it back up? 

No.  Too late.  She'll think I'm weak, is Jordyn's accurate self-assessment.

The two girls don't realize it yet.  But they are, step by inevitable step, sleepwalking into an unavoidable, vicious catfight.

To be continued....

[sinclairfan]

Catfight?  you ask.  Surely, these two privileged women, skating their way through life, are above needing to resort to fighting to resolve matters?

You would be wrong.

Taylor's case was the most straight-forward in this regard.  A multi-sport athlete (her specialty ended up being track and field, but she had at numerous points in her upbringing tried her hand at field hockey, lacrosse, and even ice hockey), Taylor was incredibly competitive.  She also didn't "play well with others"-- thus her eventual gravitation to individual over team sports.  She was juat as likely to go after her own teammates, in disputes over team leadershio, as the other team's member, thus earning a reputation as distuptive to team chemistry.  Additionally, if two team members had a dispute, Taylor would be as likely to encourage combat between them, with herself as witness, as she would me to mediate the skirmish.

Jordyn's case was more subtle.  Ever the philanthropist, Jordyn would volunteer for service to inner-city and trouble-with-the-law youth and families.  In many situations, Jordyn would mentor underprivileged teen peers, many of whom during their rough-and-tumble youth had been forced to learn how the throw fists.... or pull hair ..... to defend themselves.  At first repulsed by such scenarios, she soon found herself drawn to stories of female rivalries and battles, often asking for advice about how to respond to tactically to such situations.  She inevitably found it irresistable to apply her "moves" for real, learning how to control her breathing and adrenaline when a confrontation erupted into an all-out fight.

She enjoulyed it immensely, she found.

So....make no mistake, both Taylor and Jordyn knew how to fight.

To be continued....

[sinclairfan]

Besides being regularly competitve at, and victorious in, the attributes on their resumes which they COULD control--grades, athletics, activities, awards--Taylor and Jordyn had both become accustomed to being Numero Uno in one characteristic out of their control--looks.

Both had spent their entire lives being considered the prettiest girl in their school.

But their reaction to this accolade could not have been more opposite.  Whereas Taylor considered herself entitled to the attention and its perks, Jordyn was starting to consider her flawless looks as somewhat of a curse.

Because as the years passed and Jordyn began to crave the company of boys, and then men, in her peer group, her 10 looks made them intimidated to talk to her.

Or, if the talked to her, intimidated to ask her out.

Or, if they asked her out, intimidated to get physical and intimate.

She tried her best to be approachable.  Relatable.  Interesting.  But it wasn't working.  Men couldn't look her in the eye.  They could send her clumsy Snapchats and texts if she gave them her details.  And she had had a few spontaneous sexual encounters which exciting and surprising, and gave her the beginnings of sexual experience and confidence.

But nothing completely .... fulfilling.  Not yet, anyways.

Her change in college plans, from going straight to Ivy's to taking a 2-year detour at UF, was partially a sensible financial plan.  But its primary motive was otherwise.

Jordyn was horny AF.  She planned on her freshman and sophomore years at UF being a 2-year sex and party bender.  Straight-A's, yes, of course.  Buckling down and studying when necessary.

But come Thursday night:  she wanted a taste of college hook-up sex.  Lots of it.  With multiple partners.

Jordyn wanted to fuck.

Until August came, she would have to make do with masturbating.

And her favorite thing to masturbate to was Taylor's boyfriend Franklin.

Guilt about letting this fantasy go too far is what brought her to Taylor's house this afternoon.  To be honest about what was happening.  And to agree, maturely, to boundaries and guardrails.  Woman to woman.

Instead, the conversation was turning into woman-to-stuck-up-bitch.

Should I just leave now?, wondered Jordyn to herself.

She turned slightly, as if to go.

"You don't think you're going anywhere, do you?", asked Taylor.

"No, of course not.  Why would I leave?", asked Jordyn provocatively.

To be continued.....

[sinclairfan]

As wronged as Jordyn felt by the unpleasantness of this Sunday afternoon confrontation, Taylor felt even more aggrieved.  When she began dating Franklin back on Valentine's Day, and he disclosed to her an April 2 pre-existing prom commitment, (and, Taylor, against her better judgment, had agreed to allow him to follow thru on it), Taylor was led to believe that his April 2 prom Plus-One was a mousey nerd.  Via some early March internet stalking, Taylor was slowly dis-abused of this notion [wish?], as Jordyn's fashionable Florida blonde looks revealed themselves to her.  And, now, today, in her own house, the blonde bimbo had the nerve to present herself at her door.

Flauting her thick long blonde hair and her 36D boobs.  With no bra.  Why would you come to visit your prom date's girlfriend wearing no bra?

She smelled a rat.

She felt like Jordyn was flaunting her stuff to her.  She already knew Jordyn had been stalking her Instagram and TikTok pages--she had busted her in the act. 

That wasn't enough?

Jordyn had to invite herself to my home?

While I'm alone?

What the fuck is going on here?

She's not looking for a catfight, is she?

Because, if she ....  I'll fucking give her one.

Taylor moves a step closer to Jordyn in the dining room.

The two are toe to toe.

Taylor's hands are shaking a little.  "I wonder why?", she asks herself.  "I'm normally cool as a cucumber before a fight." 

"That's odd."

To be continued.....

[sinclairfan]

When Taylor had first seen the radically 2020s open-floor plan of her new Florida home, with literally no interior walls, and the kitchen, dining room, family room, and foyer all presented as, essentially, a single room, her first thought had been--what a convenient space for a girlfight.  Plenty of space to stand up and throw your opponent around.  Or, if a ground fight is your style, to roll around, without hitting corners or doors.

Today, apparently, she was going to test out that hypothesis.

Jordyn, ever the more analytical girl of the two, was thinking more practically.  This shiny floor surface--it's not marble.  What IS it??  Unlike ip north in Lake Forest, Illinois, hardwood isn't practical anywhere in Florida--it would warp in the humidity.  But--it's hard on my bare feet, but not rock hard, and not cold.  Is it acrylic?  Or some such synthetic material?

If Taylor bashes my skull into it--when we fight--will it hurt??

Jordyn speaks first, amidst the girls' solo ponderings. 

> Taylor ... if we're gonna do this ... just what IS your relationship with Franklin.  Ard you two [air quotes] hot and heavy??

> I can't imagine why that's any of your business, Jordyn.

> [The girls' boobs are brushing against each other.]  It's just ... I remember Judge Judy telling 2 girls one time .... that guys are SELDOM worth fighting over.  Is Franklin one of the exceptions??

> I can .... disabuse you from any such hesitation from your conscience, sweetie.  You and I aren't about to fight over Franklin.  Or any boy.

> Oh, good.  So what are we about to fight over, hun?

> Girl stuff.  Your coming here without a bra.  And us each wondering.... which is the badder blonde bitch.  Don't tell me you're not .... intrigued .... by my looks in person.  The hair.  My tits.  My ass.

> ... your lying about your height....

> That's an athletics things, Jordyn, I told you.  But admit it ..   you're not 100% sure you'll win ...  for the first catfight in your life .... THIS ONE .... vould go either way ....

> ....and .... your point being, Taylor?

> My point being ..... isn't .... that .... fact .... fucking ..... erotic??

> [Jordyn stops and thinks.]  Let's say it is.  How do you want to do this?

> N
> U
> D
>E.

> Fine.  Let's go.

The two women strip nude.

To be continued......

[sinclairfan]

Although Taylor's challenge to Jordyn to undress may have seemed impusive and misguided, she was actually taking a subtle dig at her about-to-be opponent.

The first dig was at Jordyn's athletic accomplishments and experience.  Taylor had spent many years in gym and locker rooms.  She was comfortable undressing and showering with minimal personal modesty as to her own nude figure.  Especially once she switched over to a non-team sport like Track and Field, and it wasn't even just teammates any more that she was sharing close dressing quarters with, any inclination at all to modesty had to be released and discarded.  Taylor was ok walking around buck naked, and if any surrounding female eyes, caught a glance, so be it.  Taylor had nothing to hide.  And she suspected from Jordyn's social media bio's that Jordyn's athletic experience was inferior to her own.  (Then again, virtually all high school senior girls were in that same state.)

Taylor's second dig at Jordyn, a much more Mean-Girl-ish one, was that she was making a statement as to her own level of sexual experience relative to Jordyn's.  And herein lay the secret of the bond between Franklin and Taylor.  Although they had been dating just since Valentines Day, Franklin had already taken Taylor places sexually she herself had never known she wanted to go.  While many of her peer group insisted on "Lights Off" while sharing intimate bedroom time with a partner, Franklin had introduced to Taylor the excitement and unanticipated delights of the bedroom being a full venue of sensory immersion, including the visual senses.  Looking at each other directly .... and enhancing the experience even more via mirrors.  Placed strategically throughout the room.  Taylor would catch glanes of Franklin's masculine form .... and, to her surprise, her own female anatomy.  She would extend this experience to observing herself masturbating.

Taylor had even wondered if she was starting to fall in love with herself.  Physiologically.  And psychologically.

Is being sexually attracted to yourself a thing?, she daydreamed. 

Taylor sent nudes of herself to .... herself.  And could look at the images for hours at a time.

Jordyn didn't need to know it, but .... that's what Taylor had been doing this afternoon when Jordyn arrived.  Taking pics of herself topless .... and masturbating to them.

When the doorbell rang, she had tried quickly to cover the smell on her fingers with perfume.  That's why she smelled so good right now.

Taylor's Strip Dare to Jordyn was win-win.  If Jordyn said yes, she could strut her stuff to her rival (and Jordyn could eat her heart out in jealousy).  And if Jordyn declined (as Taylor expected her to), Taylor would have scored a pre-fight advantage over her inexperienced rival.

But Taylor's plan backfired.

Jordyn's final hesitation to throwing hands with her obnoxious guest was--"I don't want to destroy my clothes fighting."  To start with, she like this outfit.  Plus, it was expensive (and new).  And the capper was--she needed to drive home after the fight.  What an awkward drive that would be, only ripoed clothing shreds hiding her nakedness for the 16-mile drive home. 

Taylor had solved her problem for her by suggesting they remove their clothing to fight.  Her outfit would be safe and waiting for her once the fisticuffs were settled.

Both women wasted no tume slipping into their birthday suits.

They were of course curious as to the details now revealed for mutual inspection.  The roundness of each others's 38D and 40B breasts.  The way all 4 nipples in the room stood at attention.  And the way they trimmed their blonde bushes, both of which covered surpring amounts of surface area.  Taylor's generous hair covering had been a point of personal pride, and a source of arousal to Franklin.  But now that she could see her rival's robust gowth, she was feeling a little bit inadequte.

Feelings of inadequacy were unusual to Taylor.  Until this afternoon, she never felt them.  Ever.

She would restore her confidence by demonstrating her superior fighting prowess over Jordyn.

The only way you can prove fighting superiority over another woman.

By beating her in a fight.

> Are we gonna stand here all afternoon leering at each other.  Or are we gonna fight?

> I'm not leering, bitch.

To be continued......

[sinclairfan]

Dispensing with further catty bickering, Taylor reached out her arms and wrapped them around Jordyn's head, part clutching at Jordyn blonde hair and part rabbit-punching her enemy in the back and side of the head.  Although Jordyn was partly offended by the unprovoked violent attack on her person, she was also grateful that unlike the introverted awkward boys who she wanted to fuck but who never approached her, Taylor at least had the balls to make the first move.

This was going to be one serious, violent catfight.

Taylor's tactical approach in the completely un-walled open space with a slippery, hard, cold floor beneath them was like an ice hockey or roller-derby brawler, holding Jordyn up but putting her in a headlock and landing hard slaps and punches to Jordyn's head and face.  Jordyn remembered seeing a long roller derby catfight many years ago, and found the concept sexy and erotic.

Now she was actually doing it.  She was mirroring Taylor's grabbing, punches, and slaps; and she thrilled with excitement when one of her blows landed and extracted a grunt or "Owww" from her bitch opponent.

Jordyn's head was aching from repeated assaults from her blonde rival.  Taylor was a literal head-hunter in girlfighting.  Did she always fight like this?

Or did she just hate Jordyn more than other girls she had fought?

The Jordyn-Taylor 4-legged catball waltzed around the room, both women trying to kick or trip the other.  Losing your fight and falling was a potential disaster in this fight, each woman knew, and they accordingly moved deliberately and with great care.

Both women began landing uppercut face shots. 

Jordyn could feel cum beading on her and rolling down her leg.  She wished she could take a breather to tough hersef.

Or to sit on Taylor's face.

To be continued ...

[sinclairfan]

Jordyn's hands became highly eroticized when her adrenaline was running, and she felt an irresistable urge to touch Taylor's breasts.

So she did it.  She just went ahead and reached out and cupped Taylor's hardened breasts.  As recently as 5 minutes ago she would not have contemplated such a bold move--even during a catfight.  She had never done such a thing in any catfight ever.  But she was already a new person.  A new woman, almost.

> Franklin likes my tits more than yours.

> He's never seen them, lying bitch.

> [Shit.  Taylor and Franklin talk about my body?]  He doesn't want to hurt your feelings, slut.  He's sucked my breasts hard.

> I don't believe you.  Prove it by sucking mine how he sucks yours.  [Taylor puffs her chest and presents her breasts to Jordyn's mouth.]

> [Jordyn considers "faking it" and sucking Taylor's breasts any old way.  How many ways can there be to suck breasts?  But she loses heart.  Plus, it's just to humiliation to suck her enemy's breasts.  Jordyn forms a fist and punches Taylor's breast full force.  Taylor's eyes water.  But her face wears a grin.]

> I knew you were lying, Jordyn.  I can always read a liar--my Mom taught me how.  You're practically a virgin, aren't you?

> [Justyn is pained and wounded.]  I'm going to give you the beating your Mom should have given you, instead of teaching you about lying.

> Try it, bitch.  You got me alone.  What are you gonna do about it?

> Just you watch.

To be continued.....

[sinclairfan]

Although Taylor was acting confidentally so far in her fight with Jordyn, the girl confronting her in her living room right now was actually her worst nightmare.

Although Taylor devoted time to athletics throughout her high school career, her plan was actually to ratchet back her efforts in that area once at Princeton and to allocate more time to .... fun.  Sports was a means to an end.  Not the end.  The end was to vault herself into the highest possible circles so as to rub shoulders with the best quality people.  Now she had done that ... scoring an admission to Princeton.  It was All-About-Me-Time now.  If that meant faking an injury so as to minimally participate in actual athletic meets and practices and workouts .... so be it.

But once she started reading the Princeton Class of 2026 Orientation material, she was appalled to discover that the class composition was .... practically 60% female.  Which meant -- the males held all the dating power.  There were only 2 of them for every 3 females.

Taylor having a Franklin lined up back home was her "safety net".  And now Jordyn was horning in on that, too.  While Taylor backed her bags and got in a car and drove up north for the school year .... Jordyn and Franklin would be back in Florida, canoodling behind her back.

Jordyn was gorgeous.  Any guy, presented with access to her blonde body, would seize the opportunity.

Taylor's only hope was to terrorize Jordyn into not being around her man.

And that plan wasn't working out so well.  Almost as a lark, Taylor had challenged Jordyn to fight nude.

And Jordyn had nonchalantly said yes???  Who does that?  What kind of a freak catfights nude???

Taylor had also jumped Jordyn, hoping to gain the early initiative in the struggle.  But Jordyn had parried all of her moves--her punches and slaps to Jordyn's head and face, her attempts to knock Jordyn off her feet and stomp her.  Jordyn could actually fight.  Shit, where had she learned how?

And, just as Taylor was going to resort to desperate measures and maul Jordyn's boobs--Jordyn beat Taylor to the punch, and mauled Taylor's tits first.  Taylor tried to react stoically--but she was in serious pain right now.

Jordyn, in summary, wasn't just a fighter.

She was a bona fide catfighter.

Well, better the find out now, Taylor decided.  I need to wrap up this loose end before I leave for school in the fall--can't have this hanging.

Jordyn CANNOT go to prom with Franklin on Friday.

They CANNOT fuck.

I have to leave her sore .... down there.

Taylor looked Jordyn in the face and hissed, "The second you got here this afternoon, I knew you and I needed to catfight."

Jordyn loved hearing the word spoken aloud.  "IYou better watch out, honey.  I've never been as turned on as I am right now."

"That's about to change."  Taylor reached down with her right claw between Jordyn's legs.

Jordyn reached right back.

The two women twisted and dug hard.

They were both in agony.  But neither stopped.  It was a pure test of wills.

To be continued....

[sinclairfan]

When Jordyn had been "researching" Taylor on social media before she had met her for the first time in real life, she had initially concluded that an actual physical fight with Taylor was unrealistic.  Taylor's athletic bio's and profile's online all referred to her as 5'10", whereas Jordyn was 5'7".  From her years of watching girlfights, Jordyn knew that "It's not the size of the girl in the fight--it's the size of the fight in the girl was 95% b.s.".

It was the size of the girl in the fight.  The bigger girl almost always won the fight.  When Jordyn herself fought, she made sure to always fight smaller girls.

Or .... girls the same size as her.  Like Taylor.

When Jordyn took off her shoes and came in Taylor's front door this afternoon, and discovered Taylor's height in her profile was exaggereated and the two were the exact same height .... well, at that moment, Jordyn knew she HAD to fight Taylor.

She needed to know which of the two was the better woman.

She assuned it would be a straight out standup fistfight.  A bare knuckles boxing match.  Jordyn's favorite kind of girlfight.

To watch.  Or to be in.

But once their conversation turned from terse to catty to outright bitchy .... Jordyn knew she had to bitchfight Taylor.

That's why she was happy to remove her clothes.

And even happier for the fight tactics to go into the gutter.

"This is the best fight I've ever been in," thought Jordyn to herself.

To be continued.....

[sinclairfan]

As Taylor and Jordyn continued their standup struggle, Taylor became concerned about two observations.

The first was that even when she was battling with fellow athletes, Taylor's opponents were normally becoming winded by this portion of the catfight.  When Taylor was lurking on Jordyn's social media postings, she was specifically scouthing fotmr athletic bona fide's, which were quite thin.  With one potential exception:  jogging.  Jordyn expressed a love of unstructured jogging, usually at sunrise. 

Taylor could now tell that Jordyn's jogging was much more than amateur-hobbyist level.  Jordyn wasn't even breathing hard, despite ten minutes and counting of vicious standup grappling.  Taylor was going to have to earn this win (and winning was the only option) via TKO or submission--she wasn't going to extract a helpless "I give" from the blonde Amazon.

Taylor's second worry was .... well, it was the way Jordyn smelled.  By this point of her prior girlfights, most of Taylor's opponents were sweating like pigs, and smelled like ...  well, boys.

Jordyn's expensive cologne still wafted out of every orifice of her flesh, and her hair still smelled like Florida's signature Gulf Coast quartz beaches.

All Taylor could think about was Franklin, 5 days from now, dancing with Jordyn at prom, their bodies and faces pressed together.  Franklin feeling Jordyn's toned flesh and comparing it to Taylor's.  Franklin feeling Jordyn's silky blonde mane and comparing it to Taylor's, which had a tendency to get oily in bed.  Alone, or when Franklin was there to feel it.

Franklin didn't like Taylor's oily hair.  She could tell by the way he stpped stroking it as their fuckfests got later into the night, as 11pm became 2am.

If he found out about Jordyn's perpetually silky hair, he would fuck her till sunrise.  Taylor couldn't let that happen.

> Stay out of Franklin and my life, Jordyn.

> I'm not going anwhere, Taylor.  YOU are.  Get your ass to New Jersey and get out of our life.

> No.... fucking .... way  ..... slut.

Both were pulling pussy hair as hard as they could.

To be continued....

[sinclairfan]

Both girls simultaneously became enraged at the pain being inflcted on her lower torso by her enemy, and used her left hand to push at the face of her opponent.  This symmetric actions caused the blondes' bodies to break apart for the first time in their battle, and each instinctively took up a boxer's pose--clenched fists, turned slightly to the right--and began circling, looking for an opening from which to punch her enemy.

Jordyn for the first time observed the full-body beauty of her blonde rival.  Taylor had muscular legs and biceps, and her blonde hair swayed naturally over her shoulders as she tilted her head, dodging Jordyn's jabs.  The sweat on Taylor's face blended with Taylor's beautiful, thick-yet-feminine eyebrows.  Taylor was staring Jordyn straight in the eyes with pure hate, while Jordyn felt like she was surveying her enemy's nude physique at the expense of attacking it.  Jordyn felt mesmerized by the sight of Taylor, after so many weeks of online-only stalking.

Taylor was also in a delerium of arousal-not from attraction, but rather from imminent violence.  At her athletic camps, she always enjoyed when skirmishes broke out, and the two girls circled in the pose she and Jordyn were in presently.  Standup.  She always felt the girl that dove in and tackled her enemy first was the girl most afraid to fight, and who wanted to induce a useless scrum that would be broken up by bystanders.  Before a resolution of the dispute between the two rivals.  Standup fighting until exhaustion, or KO, by one girl was Taylor's kind of fight.

Taylor had always associated violence with sexiness.  When Franklin was turned on, ...really turned on.... , he would throw Taylor around the bed.  Around the floor.  Around the grass.  It turned her on, being taken, being over powered.

She had always wanted to hurt someone back.  She tried with Franklin, but he was to strong for her, especially when he was aroused.

She'd do it to Jordyn.  Today.  Right now.

Taylor stepped forward and kicked Jordyn's shins hard.  She could tell she had hurt Jordyn.

This was going to be fun.

To be continued.....

[sinclairfan]

Jordyn was stunned by the force of Taylor's kicks to her shins, and could tell Taylor could read the fear creeping into her face.  Jordyn attempted responding four or five times with kicks of her own, from what she had learned at a cardio-kickboxing class one summer, to Taylor's shins and knees, but they were well under half as powerful as the host's. 

Jordyn needed time to think.  She had learned from a girl that she was mentoring that if you're in a standup fistfight and get winded, a sneaky (and usually effective) tactic is to take a knee and pretend you've been stunned by a punch.  The typical girl will get a thrill from seeing a punch oh her own achieve a knockdown, and will get cocky and admire the result of her fists.

But Taylor was no ordinary girl.  When Jordyn took a knee, Taylor (without hesitation)  wound up her right leg and foot kicked Jordyn as hard as she could in the left ear. 

Jordyn fell flat on her back, her ears ringing.  But she maintained enough of her wits about her to understand that Taylor would't stop at one vicious kick.  Jordyn desperately rolled to her right as quickly as she could, just in time to avoid not one, not two, but three foot stomps aimed at her face and kidneys from a crazed Taylor.

And yet Taylor continued striding forward, sensing correctly that Jordyn was wounded but not defeated.

So Jordyn changed direction with her body-roll, and aimed direct at Taylor's kicking, stomping lower torso.  Like a bowling headed direct into a pile of standing pins and fallen dead wood (for those who play candlepin, not 10-pin), Taylor's limbs went flying in a chaotic whirlwind of limbs and hair, crashing onto to hard tile floor, and into Jordyn's angry arms.

Both girls grabbed and pinched any soft flesh the could find, and had suddenly resumed the clutching catball they had been in mere minutes before. 

The began hissing insults.

> Princeton Bitch.

> Florida Man.

> I'm more of a woman than you'll ever be.

> What do you think I'm doing?

> You think you're winning this fight??

> You think YOU are??

Suddenly, there was a loud shutting of car doors, and setting of car alarms, outside the side door.

> SSSHHHHHHIIIITTTTT.  My fucking MOM'S HOME!!!!  [Taylor and Jordyn suddenly released their grip on each other, and popped up standing.]

Jordyn was surprised at how panicked Taylor was.  Jordyn felt much more vulnerable.  If Taylor had come over to Jordyn's house and the two had been caught viciously catfighting, Jordy would unhesitatingly have told her parents to call cops and arrest Taylor.

Why wasn't Taylor doing that now to Jordyn.  Was Taylor's relationship with her Mom THAT bad??  What sorts of bad things had Taylor done to lose her Mom's trust??

Jordyn could see two sillouhettes approaching the front door.

> Who's that with you Mom?

> It's her bitch assistant, Katara.  Jordyn, we're in big fucking trouble if you don't do what I say.  BOTH OF US are.  Katara can ruin our futures ....AND she'll ENJOY doing it.

> You expect me to trust YOU, bitch? After you just tried to fucking maim me??

> Jordyn.  There's no tim to explain.  You have to pretend you came over here on a booty call.  To mess around with me.

> Ew!!!!!

> JUST ..... [the doorknob jiggles] .... FUCKING ..... [two stunning blondes, Taylor's Mom and the gorgeous 30-something Katara, stride in] .... DO IT.

Taylor embraces Jordyn's head and sinks her tongue into Jordyn's mouth.  Jordyn surprises herself by not resisting .... and surprises herself even more with the sudden realization of how far along to orgasm her erotic arousal is.  If Taylor is acting, she should perhaps consider Drama as her Princeton major, as she is enthusiastically exploring Jordyn's mouth and throat.

Jordyn realizes this is the best kiss she's ever received.  And the most effective.

> TAYLOR !!!!!! , screeches Taylor's angry mother from across the room.  WHAT DID WE AGREE ABOUT GUESTS WHEN YOUR FATHER AND I AREN'T HOME?

[A mother sees her daughter embraced in a naked, passionate, lesbian kiss, and her first thought is that house rules about guests have been violated?  This is one fucked-up dysfuntional family, thinks Jordyn.]

Katara walks over and inspects Taylor and Jordyn.  She feels their hair, their cheeks, with the back of her palm.  Katara has the look of an assassin, like she's in military or law enforcement.

> These two bitches weren't kissing, were you?  WERE YOU, Taylor??

> [Taylor's Mom confusingly asks...] Well, what IN BLAZES were they doing then, Katara.

> Well ...... dishevelled hair .... bruised faces .. . scratched tits ..... These two were have a good old catfight.  And a helluva good one, judging from the scratch marks alone.

> A catfight? On a Sunday?

[Jordyn thinks..... SHE'D BE FUCKING OK WITH THIS IF IT WASN'T SUNDAY.  Damn, Taylor and her Mom are fucked up.]

[What have I gotten myself into?]

> I say we let them finish. 

To be continued.....