First story here, but definitely not my first story overall. I've commissioned several video customs but thought I'd give it a go at story writing now. I tend to like a good build up to catfight scenarios and develop the people in the stories. It gives readers a better picture (not much room for that in short stories). Excuse any grammatical errors since I wrote this on my phone and read through it only once. Anyway, here's the lead up and if you're in it just for the action stay tuned! Side note: this story is based on real people and inspired by true events.
It seemed like an innocent accident at the time; something small that I brushed off but it lingered in my thoughts as time went on. I was sitting across the table having dinner with my good friend, Mettie. She was in town for work and wanted to catch up. I had asked my fiance at the time, Elizabeth, to join us too but she wasn't feeling well and so I was on my own.
Elizabeth wasn't aware that Mettie and I had a flirtatious past from when we studied abroad together during our college years. Since I was with Elizabeth then nothing serious happened during our travels but I had a hunch Mettie was very interested in me. I often fantasized and dreamed about Elizabeth and Mettie getting into a catfight. They were both very attractive and what was appealing about the matchup was how similar they were in attributes. Elizabeth is 5'2 and a half (as she states it) and 125lbs. She's a brunette that never took much to participating in competitive sports, other than two years of dance in junior high. Elizabeth's personality was also a bit more reserved than the average person. I suppose this shyness is what I found alluring in her. I recall Mettie telling me she was 5'1 and three-quarters specifically. Mettie is also a brunette but with a slightly red hue who I guess weighed around 120lbs. Mettie herself was also not into athletics either. Just like Elizabeth, Mettie had a calmer personality and never carried herself as the alpha female of any get-togethers. Elizabeth knew about my catfight fetish and was accepting of it. However, she never liked it when I named specific girls I'd like to see her wrestle with. In fact, she'd think I were interested in them and put an end to the conversation. Mettie was never a name I mentioned...
We were seated at a booth table on the bar side of the restaurant. It was early enough that we were the only ones having dinner on that side of the restaurant. I've had dinners with other female friends before so to me this was no different. Mettie and I chatted, laughed, and reminisced about our past. Forty five minutes of cliche food and dinner table talk flew by in an instant. I was so invested in our conversation that when her size 6 foot reached across the table and brushed my right calf I instinctually moved it a few inches to the left. It had to have been an accident right? I apologized in my head and continued my end of the conversation as if it was nothing. The night ended soon enough and without incident. Little did I know, that one moment would lead to more than I could have ever expected.
I thought about that suspicious footplay for years. Was she attempting to seduce me? Was it an honest incidental contact? I needed to find out or it would be on my mind forever.
In the years that followed we interacted occasionally but the right opportunity to ask her about that inconspicuous moment never arised. We grew into our late twenties and went our separate ways; she married another man and I married the woman of my dreams, Elizabeth. We lost touch for a while but one random day Mettie asked me to attend a talk she was giving at our Alma Mater. History repeating itself? Only one way to find out.
Again, Elizabeth decided to let me go alone while she stayed at home with our child. My intentions were to go and support a friend, and ask her about that one night. We had some time to chat after her presentation and it was surprisingly pleasant considering the question I had on my mind the entire time. I held off asking her until we sat down at her hotel bar to get a drink. I was straight forward about it and asked about her intentions. I was almost certain it came out non-threatening until she immediately choked on her drink and laughed, "What? What are you talking about"? I felt so embarrassed! How was I going to get out of this awkward situation? I was already in too deep so I started to describe the incident to her in detail and how I felt about it, hoping it would justify me bringing it up years later. The entire time she just smiled and looked at me like I was crazy. As I rambled on I started to feel as if no amount of words could help me escape. I trailed off and ended my rant by saying, "So yeah...that's how it went".
Mettie continued to smile her pretty, innocent smile and replied, "That's so sweet that you remembered that". It was only a split second, but felt like an awkward eternity, then she winked at me. In that moment I gleamed at hint of my assumption in her light brown eyes. We both just grinned at each other. My facial expression relaying, 'Ha! I was right'. Her's glowing, 'So he did read into that the way I wanted him to'.
"Come on, help me carry this box and suitcase up to my room. It's getting late and you should probably get home to your family", she finally said.
We arrived at her room and she fumbled through her purse for her room key. To kill the silence between us I asked, "What's in this box anway"?
Mettie replied without looking up from her purse, "Oh just some folders and brochures I have to prepare as handouts for tomorrow's talk. I need to finish stuffing about fifty of them tonight".
"I can help you out. I have a few more minutes to spare, and you'll be able to get to bed sooner too", I stated without hesitation.
She smiled and nodded her head in gratitude. When we finally entered her room I set her box down on the table. I opened it up and started to pull out the contents.
"I'm going to use the restroom quick and then I'll be out to help you", Mettie said.
I acknowledged her statement and began placing the items in the folders; the one-pager in the back followed by a trifold brochure in front. I probably looked like a robot as I lost myself in the mundane work. After about ten folders Mettie opened the bathroom door and stepped out. Through my peripheral I could see more skin that what I should have been able to. My heart began to pick up pace as she slowly walked towards me, only in her bra and underwear (maybe she's just going to put her sleepwear on. Yeah, that's it). I tried to ignore her approach but my quickened pace of stuffing folders certainly gave it away that I was aware of her. Her petite figure was breathtaking. She didn't have the toned muscles or athletic body of a super models, but damn was she still sexy. Her healthy diet and daily runs were enough to keep her looking tantalizing.
She placed her left hand on my shoulder and my reflexes caused me to turn and look at her...all of her. I gazed up and down and slowly faced forward as she raised one leg over me into the straddling position.
"This is what I wanted that night to lead to all those years ago", she said as she lowered her right hand to cup me under the belt. She leaned in to kiss me and her B-cup breasts pushed up against my chest. I could taste her sweet cosmo while I tried to catch my breath. Mettie's massaging of my genitals became more aggressive as more blood started to pump in below.
It was in that moment that my senses regained their composure. I rolled the chair back and gently lifted her off of me. "I can't do this. I'm sorry", I said matter-of-factly. If I had had a few more beers things might have turned out differently. I quickly walked out of the room without saying another word, oblivious to the fact that I was bulging down under.
During the drive home I replayed the event of the night over and over in my head. I felt sickly and guilty for getting myself into that position. Should I tell my wife, Elizabeth, about it? Should I bottle it up and act like it never happened? The racing in my heart was no longer sexual desire but fear of what was to come. How could someone so timid and shy have such a sexual prowess to them? Because she was Mettie...that's how. Her beauty and the innocent tone of her voice could have lured any man into her room.
When I got home Elizabeth was getting ready for bed. We talked casually through our normal nightly routines. I knew I could hide what happened with Mettie from her if I really wanted to. But as we lay in bed it kept eating at me. If I didn't do something about it I wouldn't get any sleep for a long time. I found myself staring up at the sealing in our dark room. After the drive home and staring into darkness I realized there was going to be no easy way to do this: tell her now and take the wrath, or let it slip out days, months or even years down the road and get murdered for it. I chose the former since it would definitely help my case in this plea for forgiveness...or so I thought. I turned to my side to face my wife's back and quietly whispered, "Mettie came onto me tonight". Silence. Maybe she was already asleep? If so, this was a good practice run for me. Then as if a volcano was getting ready to erupt my wife let out a deep resounding, "What?" I sighed and swallowed what may have been my tongue and repeated what I said. Silence again, but she turned around. I proceeded to tell her about the night that transpired and the dinner from years ago. Her glaring blue eyes in the dim light was enough for me to know that she wanted to hear about everything. When I finished my tale there was just silence.
"Say someth--" SMACK!! My wife had just slapped me for the first time (or that I could remember). The fact that I was on my pillow and my face could turn to absorb the force made it that much more painful. I didn't react or say anything knowing it was what I deserved.
"Go sleep on the fucking couch! You don't get to sleep in bed with me anymore!", she nearly shouted.
I raised myself out of bed and walked out of the bedroom. I touched the tender side of my face where Elizabeth had just slapped me. I didn't realize that my tiny framed my wife could pack such ferocity behind her slap. I grabbed some ice for my face and plopped down onto the couch. All I could think to myself was, 'What the fuck did I just do?'
I didn't sleep well that night which is probably why I didn't wake up when my wife left to drop our daughter off at her parents for the weekend. I awoke to her sitting on our recliner with her arms folded, glaring death into me.
It was unusual for my wife to express such anger and violence. She's always been so sweet and kind. I used to think she didn't have a mean bone in her body. Her pretty face and personality is what attracted me to her and still attracts me after being together for ten years. But as they say, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
Now that I was awake she got up and walked over to me. I got up on my elbows and all I got in was, "Hey", before she pinned her knee onto my chest and forced me back into the couch.
"What the fuck were you thinking!? How could you do this!? WERE you even thinking!?" She screamed. I had unleashed the beast in my once docile wife. I didn't - couldn't - answer her because I knew she just needed to let it all out. I endured some more slaps on the shoulder and across both sides of my face before she eventually eased up with her knee so I could breathe again. All I could muster up was, "I'm so sorry".
She grabbed me by the ankles and dragged me right off the couch. I was both shocked and amazed at her strength. "Remember what I said I'd do if you ever had an affair?" I did indeed remember. She said she'd beat me up thoroughly. She also said after I'm all good and beaten she'd go and kick my mistress' ass, but wouldn't let me watch because she knew I'd enjoy it. This was no time to mention the latter.
It was a beating of a lifetime. I took the beating in stride because at this point I was willing to do whatever it took for her to forgive me. Elizabeth punched, kicked, and slapped me all over my body except for my face; it would raise too many questions outside of our home. By the end of the thrashing we were both panting. Her moreso from delivering the blows and me from coping with the pain and bruises. I laid on the ground flat on my back as she put her size 5 foot onto my chest. It was close enough to my throat that I started to wheeze a little.
"If you ever cheat on me again, you're out of this house for good. And no, this beating doesn't mean I have forgiven you", my wife stated blatantly.
I wanted to ask her if Mettie was going to get out of this beating-free but decided not to press this issue. Then as if on cue my phone beeped. I pulled it out of my pocket with my wife still standing over me. It was a text message from Mettie: 'Hey sorry about last night. I didn't mean for things to go that far. The way you reminisced about that dinner years ago made me think you wanted more out of it."
"Who is it?", my wife paused, "It's Mettie isn't it. Tell her not to talk to you anymore".
That was it? I was really hoping for a more feisty response from my wife. But with Elizabeth watching me I a obliged and sent the message away.
The rest of the day was uncomfortable to say the least. I don't think my wife and I said one word to one another. I could tell she was still stewing about the night before. I tried to seclude myself into our basement family room but my wife kept coming in and out to grab some things. I gave her her space and tended to my wounds while watching movies to let my mind escape from this nightmare I was currently in.
Our home lay undisturbed until the door bell rang early in the evening. I figured my wife could answer the door so I didn't move from my grooved portion of the basement couch.
Minutes later a familiar voice spoke from behind me, "Hey thanks for reconsidering your message earlier and wanting to talk." It was Mettie! I was at a lost for words. Who-- how the-- what--. Every scenario raced through my mind as to why she was here in my basement. It wasn't a dream because I could still feel my aches and pain. There she was in her blouse and short skirt from her presentation this morning. She was barefoot and must have left her heels at the door, which is probably why I didn't hear her coming down the stairs. Mettie walked over to sit next to me.
"I just want to say again how sorry I am to have put you in that situation. It should have never happened and if you want me to talk to Elizabeth I will. The damage is done but I don't want it to be all on you." She paused briefly to contemplate. "Or if you want, I will keep this between you and me and never speak of it. That way we can all still be friends. I'm fine with whatever you decide."
Still shocked at the fact that Mettie was sitting next to me all I was able to say was, "I already told her."
"That's right bitch! So you're little fantasy about a secretive happy friendship isn't going to happen." We both turned to see that Elizabeth was standing at the end of the room near the bottom of the stairs.
Mettie stood up in a panic, "Elizabeth let me explain --".
"There's no need. My husbands told me everything. I already kicked is ass for it this morning and now I'm going to kick yours."
Mettie turned to me, "You called me here for this?"
I shook my head still shell shocked at what was happening right in front of me.
"No Mettie, I sent you those messages with his phone. He's been cowering in here all day."
A rush of mixed emotions came over me. Fear for the safety of both women, confusion at how things ended up like this, and excitement that my dreams were so close to coming true (probably more of the latter)!
"Look, the only way you're leaving our home is through me. Either you fight me and let yourself out or lie down and get your ass kicked until I'm satisfied with my revenge."
"I don't want to fight you and I don't want to get hurt. You know I'm not the fighting type. Just let me walk out of here and that will be the end of it."
"Neither am I Mettie, but you drove me to this with your slutiness".
We were at an impasse. Neither woman giving into the other's demands. I was getting aroused at this standoff. I couldn't imagine what would happen if they really started fighting. Here were two women, both very passive and gentle in their personalities, coming face to face; something had to give.
"Again, the only way you're getting out of this is through me. Not only will I enjoy it but my husband over there will too." They both turned towards me. "Oh? He didn't tell you about his little catfight fetish? Well, it's his biggest turn on. I've never wanted to fulfill it for him but I think tonight is an exception. He's mentioned me fighting a lot of other girls we know, but he's never mentioned me fighting you. I wonder if you're demise will even get his dick up."
"Elizabeth I don't want to fight. Besides, my job requires me to be on front of large crowds so I can't afford to have my face all scratched up."
"Fine. Ground rules: nothing to the face", my wife retorted.
Mettie gave me a look as if asking for me to stop this madness. I threw my hands up and sighed out, "you might as well fight her because she's not going to let you out scratch free. Also, it's not like you can't hit her back either."
There was a glimmer of realization in Mettie's eyes when I said that. It's as if she finally caught on that fighting involves taking and giving attacks.
"Okay have it your way", Mettie smirked. "But I'm not going to have you ruin my clothes." Mettie began taking off her blouse and scooting her skirt off. Elizabeth stood there a little stunned that Mettie was undressing in front of me. As if Mettie knew the look my wife was portraying she said, "It's not like your husband hasn't seen this".
Fire burned in my wife's eyes. Both women tied their shoulder length hair up into pony tails. Mettie kicked her clothes onto the couch. The stage was set.
"Get out", my wife commanded. Not at Mettie, but me. "I've told you before you don't get to see this. If you don't, I'll just let Mettie walk out and you won't get your precious catfight fantasy."
Mettie looked at me realizing she did indeed have a way out without fighting. Her pleading eyes looked into my own. I pursed my lips, shrugged, and said, "Good luck" as I strode passed her nearly naked form. Her jaw dropped slightly and betrayal, no anger, filled her face.
I approached my wife and gave her a smile. She smiled back faintly which brightened up my spirit. She stood there barefoot in her sports bra and spandex shorts. Her exquisite D-cup breasts were barely holding in her bra. Even though she wasn't as exposed as Mettie she still looked astonishing.
She slapped my ass as I walked passed and said, "Get into bed. I'll be up shortly to tell you all about it."
I couldn't believe it. Elizabeth and Mettie were finally going to go at it. My dreams have come true! I also couldn't believe that was I walking out of the very arena that this was happening in. Excitement and frustration boiled in me as I laid in bed thinking about what was going on down there. Excitement for the scenario, frustration for not being able to watch. I guess you can't always have your cake and eat it to. My thoughts were soon interrupted by the screams and moaning of a serious catfight happening right below me.
Time had passed so slowly. I laid in bed trying to imagine how the fight was going and who was winning based on what I could hear. Their once soft and gentle (now roaring with rage) voices were so similar that it was hard to discern such information. My penis was erect and stiff as a board. I didn't pleasure myself though in hopes of having my wife do that as she replayed the fight to me. It was a long while before the sounds from below began to quiet down. Finally, no more voices could be heard. Just sheer silence. My breathing started to pick up and my heart nearly galloped out of my chest. Moments later the silhouette of a female figure stood in the bedroom door way, the light shining in from behind her. I couldn't tell who it was because my wife and Mettie was similar in height and build.
The figure straddled my legs and slowly started stroking my cock. "So you want to know what happened?", a familiar voice asked.
I panted and nodded my head.
"How about I just show you", she stated as she grabbed the remote from the night stand and turned on the TV.
I could not believe what my eyes were seeing! My wife had recorded the fight. All of those times she came down stairs during the day she must have been setting up the cameras. I guess showing her how I set up our media server and network really paid off.
"Don't worry, I won't make you cum until you see the entire fight" the voice said as we both turned towards the screen.
To be continued...
