[Figaro]

This is some great stuff.

[sinclairfan]

THE NIGHT BEFORE ROUND TWO

I get into bed early Thursday night.  There's a sharper edge to my fight anticipation this time, knowing Sierra will be witnessing my fight with Darlene.  The feelings I had about Lisa and Sandy catfighting in high school in front of a big crowd, their trampiness for being willing to do that--I feel a little bit of that feeling now about myself.  I've been dressing trashy the last couple of days.  I get out my jean cutoff shorts from my biker days.  They still fit.  Good.  I'm wearing these for the catfight tomorrow.

Or, at least, I'll be starting in them.  Darlene and I will be nude before the fight is finished.  What will Sierra think?  Does she already know an all-out grudge fight is in no clothes?  That every part of the body gets scratched and twisted and punched?  Has she ever seen a fight like that?  Or been in one?  Does she have an enemy?  

I log onto Facebook.  I wonder what Darlene is up to.

This is weird.  A message to me.  From a Lisa--"Lisa from high school.  Oh, wow, I apprehensively open her note.  I hope she's not upset I posted about her 1983 fight with Sandy on Facebook.  Phew!  It's a nice note.  "You go girl!  Glad you got back at that bitch Darlene for her beating you in that private fight you two had night after Graduation.  She bragged so much about that, always wanted to see someone take her down a notch.  Glad you didn't let it go."

My heart sinks.

??  WTF ??

I read Lisa's note at least 5 more times, to make sure I'm reading it correctly.

Then I get pissed.  Like, I'm talking, really really pissed.

That bitch Darlene lied 33 years ago to the high school class.  She told them she and I fought.  And that she won.

For 33 years, the whole high school class thought Darlene beat me in a fight.  She took credit for a fight that never happened.  No wonder I never had any real friends in the class after school was done.

And no wonder Darlene doesn't want me posting about our fights now.  She doesn't want her 1983 lie exposed.

Half of me wants to confront Darlene with her lie right now.

But she'll be here tomorrow.

I'll confront her with her lie.  And after our fight, I'll force her to admit on Facebook that her whole life has been a lie.  

I'm the better woman.  I am now.

And I always was.

[sinclairfan]

MY SECOND CATFIGHT WITH DARLENE

I wake up at home the morning of the day Darlene and Sierra are driving here for me to fight Darlene.  The house feels different this morning, in a good way.  Darlene will be in my house -- I want to fight her in my house.  But she better not use my bathroom; Darlene grosses me out.  Sierra better not use it either.  On second thought, Sierra can use it-she's a cutie.

I start to worry:  What if this is a setup?  What if Darlene and Sierra are here to rob me?  Is it not breaking and entering if I'm the one who invited me into the house?  What if Darlene wants her $8,000 back from our first fight?  I hide all my valuables.  And then I decide not to worry--if Darlene wins, she wants me to take down my Facebook posts about us fighting.  She doesn't care about my house.  I hope.

I get into my cutoff shorts.  Shame these will get destroyed in our fight.  I put my hair down and straight.  I look even better than last time.  I drink less water than last time--I don't want to pee on my floor during the fight, like I think I did at the condo.  My damn 52 year old bladder--getting old sucks. 

Darlene texts that they're 30 minutes away.  My jean shorts soak thru.  I think I sort of just came.

A new, white Acura SUV pulls into my driveway.  Sierra is driving.  Is that Sierra's car or Darlene's?  If it's Sierra, she is one spoiled rich bitch.  Hot.

Sierra and Darlene ring.  I answer, and ask them to come in.  They're both in miniskirts, Darlene wearing one she clearly doesn't mind having shredded.  Sierra's is nicer.  They both smell damn good--I smell like I just came; I wish I had freshened up.  The tension between Darlene and me is so taut, we'd probably be fighting already if Sierra wasn't here.  But I'm glad we're not (yet);  I have 2 questions.

Me:  I have 2 questions, one for each of you.

Sierra:  Oh goodie, me first.

Me:  Sierra, why did you think Darlene would win our first fight?

Sierra:  Well, in fairness, I thought it would be close.  But I thought Darlene has a lower center of gravity and could bull-rush and take you down.  But I'm guessing it wasn't that kind of fight.

Me:  Well, it did start that way.  And Darlene did pin me.  Except she never pinned my hands, so her tits were nice and available for me.  Is that the kind of fight you came to watch?

<<<<<Sierra clearly is not a fight rookie like I was at her age.  Hot.>>>>>

Sierra:  Hellz, yeah.  You guys are really gonna do that?

Me:  Keep your pants on, babe.  I still haven't asked Darlene her question.

Darlene:  This oughtta be good.

Me:  Darlene, why did you lie to the girls in our class, way back, and tell them we fought the night after Graduation.

Darlene:  Ok, whoa, time out.  I totally got egged into doing that, and was obviously kidding.  I never brought it up again.

Me:  Obvious to who?  The people who heard it believed it all this time.  And still believe it today.  Is that the real reason we never fought?  Because you built a lie that we already had, and you couldn't muck up your story??

Darlene:  Or maybe I assumed it would get back to you, and that would finally start something.  Did you ever think of THAT?!?

Me:  Well, it got back to me now.  Sierra, I'm opening my Facebook account now.  I want you to make sure the loser of this fight posts what REALLY happens here today.  And what REALLY happened in 1983.

<<<<Darlene ostentatiously straps completely nude.>>>>>

Sierra:  Yee-haa.  Go for it, ladies.

I strip completely nude.  Darlene and I approach each other standing, double-fisting each others hair.  We pull down as hard as we can, and kick and knee each other multiple times.  We each move our right hand lower to each others backs, and scratch as hard as we can, digging our nails deep into flesh.  We pull in, our equally sized tits lining up, and rub furiously.

I'm conscious of Sierra's presence, and try hard not to let the fight fall to the ground.  I want to look like I'm winning the fight, even if I'm not, so I'm hyper-conscious of maintaining my footing.  Darlene and my clits find each other and rub together; the half-cumming sensation I had while waiting washes over me, and I groan uncontrollably, unable to resist rocking rhythmically of Darlene's full front side.  Darlene is slightly shorter than me, and I feel her tongue on my neck.  My half-cumming waves now become all-out orgasms, rolling over me in waves. 

Darlene and I sink to our knees, and our hands find each others pussies.  We alternately pull pussy hair and scratch.  My waves of pleasure switch to excruciating pain.  Darlene's tongue is still firmly on my neck, and I can feel her mouth sucking it.  I feel her teeth on my neck--is she going to bite me?  My pussy is gushing fluid--I feel like I peed again. 

Darlene and I release our grips, and dig our nails into each others breasts.  I remember that this is what Sierra wanted to see.  I look over at her.  She's masturbating rhythmically, trying to watch us but periodically looking up at the ceiling, apparently involuntarily.  I can't let her see me lose.

I grab Darlene by the hair, and knee her repeatedly on the crotch.  I remember what Sierra said about pinning, and go for the pin, remembering to pin Darlene's hands too.  My knees are on her shoulders now.  I put my right hand behind me and mercilessly torture Darlene's pussy.  I curse taunts into her face.  She tries to knee my back, but I lean forward, my tits now smothering her face.  I rip out pussy hair from the roots.

Darlene literally starts crying.  And gives.

I go to Sierra.  We tongue each other furiously.  We finger fuck each other repeatedly.

After we clean up, Darlene posts on Facebook:  "This is Darlene.  Diane and I never fought in 1983.  We fought twice in 2016.  She beat me both times."

The End.

 

[sinclairfan]

WE BOTH KNOW THIS ISN'T OVER

My second catfight with my old high school neighbor, and enemy, Darlene, and Darlene's Facebook posting setting the record straight about what did, and didn't, really happen in 1983, generated some buzz back in New England.  High school classmates came out of the woodwork, both female and male, who wanted to reconnect on Facebook.  And SnapChat.  Did you know SnapChat is used for nude selfies?  Honestly, I didn't know that.  53 years old, and still naive in some things, apparently.  A few guys claimed they had crushes on me.  But I'm in Texas, and they're not.  Gosh, still in New England 34 years later, dudes?  Grow up and move on.  I mean, I admit I'm sorta broke.  But, gheezh, and least I lived somewhere else during my life.

So, no, none of the Facebook posts ever went beyond SnapChat "sex".  Kinda pathetic.  Guess my prince is never coming.  Is this what it's like to feel old?

I'll tell you what makes me feel the opposite of old.  The two fights with Darlene.  I replay that whole 2 month episode back in my mind.  Me using Google and finding her on the Internet.  Finding out she and I both lived in Texas.  Contacting her on Facebook, and the night I called her.  Telling her I wanted to fight her.  Her saying yes.  Driving to a condo development, and meeting in a conference room to set up rules.  Rules to a catfight.  Seeing her for the first time in 33 years.  Still hating each other like we did all those years ago.  Meeting in a condo being remodelled.  Fighting her.  Beating her.  Then a rematch at my place.

Any one of those things would have made me feel young again.  And I did all of them.  With her.

Late at night my mind starts thinking.  One fight with Darlene was exhilarating.  Two was, I don't know, dangerous.  What would a third be like?  I'm not getting any younger.

I wonder if Darlene has a SnapChat account.

She does.  My heart races.

I wonder if she's online now.

Shit.  She's not.

I feel sad.  Empty.

Do I still have her cell number?  I do.  I call.

Shit.  Voice mail.

She's probably asleep.  Maybe I should text.

Me:  U there?

Shit.  What if she doesn't remember it's me at this number.

Me:  It's Diane.

I wait.

Nothing.

I feel empty again.  53 years old.  This is what my life has come to. 

I go to sleep.
***********************************
At 6am, my cellphone rings.  It's Darlene's number.  My heart races.

Darlene:  Somebody was drunk texting last night, Hmmmm?

Me:  <<<half with attitude>>>>   I wasn't drunk.  You must be projecting.

Darlene:  Attitude.  Always a bitch.

Me:  Now who's projecting?

Darlene:  I don't get a good morning?

Me:  Not from me.

Darlene:  You enjoying this?

Me:  <<<<touching myself>>>  I hate you.

Darlene:  Back at you.  What are you going to do about it?

Me:  So it's not over?

Darlene:  Bitch, we both know this isn't over.

<<<<Silence.  I'm rubbing myself furiously.  I can't decide if I want her to know or not.>>>

Darlene:  Bitch, you shoulda quit when you were ahead.

Me:  Slut, I'm up 2 oh.  You'd hafta win 3 in a row to be ahead.

Darlene:  Or put you in a body cast.  Maybe fuck up that pretty face.

<<<<<Silence.  Rubbing>>>>>

Me:  I hosted last time.  Your turn now.  When?

Darlene:  When can you be here?

Me:  You're not serious.

Darlene:  It's 6:30 now.  Shall we say, 10:30?

Me:   <<<<<What have I gotten myself into?>>>>>  Fine.

Darlene:  Fine.

Me:  Fine.

Darlene:  Get in the car, whore.

Me:  Don't you want my face pretty?  You know, to fuck it up?

Darlene:  I'd rather start sooner.

Me:  Fine.

Darlene:  Fine.

Me:  Fuck you.

Darlene:  Fuck you.

I hang up and finish before she can hear me cum in my hand.

Shit, that was intense.

And the morning's just started.

I have a catfight to drive to.

[Vanessa]

Damn hon....this just gets better and better. Cannot wait to read more.

[sinclairfan]

A DRIVE TO DALLAS (or, DIANE DOES DALLAS)

In the dark of my lonely house, the decision to accept Darlene's offer of an immediate fight seemed like the right one, the only one.  Back in my biker chick days, I'd have to weigh and balance how close I was to having my period (Excuse my French.  Gross, I know; but, hey, it was a real concern.).  One of the nice things about, ahem, mature, is that now I'm free of all that lady parts stuff.  I had my hysterectomy at 48, and now I don't care what time of the month it is.

Free to fight or fuck, 24/7/365.  And the fucking has been few and far between, and what little there has been, quite disappointing--may as well fight.

But as I pack a quick overnight bag, chug a protein shake, wash my face, comb my hair, roll on some antiperspirant, lock up, and head out onto the freeway, well, as the sun comes up, I start to doubt my decision.

First, if we fight again, Darlene and I are at a crossroads.  Darlene seems to have come to terms with me being the better fighter.  Now it's just about maiming me, or the opportunity to do so.  How do I respond?  Do I try and "mess up" Darlene?  Do I want to?

Why was I masturbating our entire phone conversation?  Am I attracted to her?  Have I always been?  Sierra, the spectator at our second fight, totally got me off when fucked after the rematch fight.  She was the first woman to ever get me off.  Am I finally over whatever girl on girl hang up I had?  Will I be cumming when Darlene and I fight?  Will she?

When we were setting up our second fight, why did Darlene ask if I was bi?  Is she?  Was she propositioning me? 

Or is this is setup?  Is Darlene going to have someone over?  Will the two of them jump me?

There's no way I'm going straight to Diane's.  I don't want my car there.  I'm driving to Dallas, checking into a cheap motel, then Uber-ing it out to Darlene's place in Irving.

If that delays the fight a half hour, too bad.  Darlene can cool her heels.

If I win the fight, I weigh what I can take from her house and not end up in jail.  Our first fight was for $8,000.  Our second ended up being for that 25 year old blonde number, Sierra.  We planned the 3rd so fast, we didn't establish stakes.  Does she have rings from her 2 divorces.  Shit, that would be sweet to steal.  Anything that fits in my purse is coming home with me, I decide.

It'll feel good being in the bitch's place.  Not my problem if anything is damaged.  Totally worth the drive.

Yes, it's come to this.  All because we didn't settle things in high school.

So be it.  Fine by me.

What am I not thinking of?   Think, think, think Diane.

I'll be in a strange city with no backup.  Darlene brought Sierra when we fought at my place.  What if I lose a tooth?  What if I need stitches?  What if I break a bone?

Is this insane?

Or is it brilliant?  This feels right.  The first two fights were intense, without us killing each other.  But were we trying to?  Will we try today?  What kind of revenge has been festering in Darlene's cold heart?

Or in mine?  Why did I reach out to her?  I wanted this--do I know why? 

A trunk honks at me.  The driver likes how my straight brown hair looks, blowing around in the car.  I ignore him, but it feels good to get hooted at at 53.

And he's right--I do look good.  Sexy.  My skin has a glow when I have a fight lined up.  My hair has a sheen.  It did in my biker chick fighting days.  And it does again since my feud with Darlene started.  Restarted.

Shit, I didn't even shower this morning, and I look totally fuckable.  With no makeup.

Darlene looks younger than in her Facebook picks.  I hate to admit it, but she's still fuckable, too. 

Us fighting has been the fucking Fountain of Youth for both of us.

I get to the Dallas suburbs.  I see a Comfort Inn.  This will do.

I check in.  3 nights.  No maid service, please.

I go to the room and pee.  I chug a Mountain Dew with a Smirnoff shooter.  The vodka hits me right away.  Back to day drinking. 

10:00.  Right on time.  I set up the Uber pickup.  I text Darlene.

Me:  30 minutes away.  45 minutes tops.

Darlene:  Let's get right down to business.  Morning kindergarten kids come back home at 12:30.

Me:  60-90 minute fight then?

Darlene:  Unless you have a better idea.

Me:  I don't.

Darlene:  Fine.

Me:  Fine.

Darlene:  Fuck you.

Me:  Fuck you more.

I wonder why Darlene never had kids.  I wonder why she lives in a neighborhood with them.

No, I don't.  I hate that bitch.  Everything about her.

One of us is getting fucked up.  The vibe is nastier than our last two fights. 

My Uber driver arrives.

I get in.

Here we go.

To be continued.....

[Lil Tina]

Wow...impressive stuff.  Thank ya for sharing

[Vanessa]

This is so hot. Can't wait for next part.

[sinclairfan]

WOMEN'S INTUITION

Women's intuition.  Greatest thing in the world.  It's never failed me.  And it definitely didn't fail me the morning of my third fight with Darlene.

Now, I knew the cattiness between us was amped up eight notches or so on the dial.  Before our first two fights, the conversation between Darlene and me was, I don't know, strained, unnatural.  But I sensed it was from genuine apprehension about the physical conflict which was imminent.  Not so this morning.  Darlene was up to something--she had a plan, a scheme.  I needed to be alert to what it was.

It didn't take long.

As my Uber ride pulled up to Darlene's two-story, 5,000-plus square foot cookie cutter McMansion (shit, she sure took some guy for a ride during one of her divorces; I hope he was an asshole to her the entire marriage), even the Uber driver could tell something was wrong.  It was a typical oppressive Texas morning, with worse forecasted for the afternoon, but every upstairs window was wide open.  (First thought:  is Darlene planning on pushing me out a window?)  I half-consider asking the driver to stick around.  But fuck it--I can handle this bitch alone; just stay alert, Diane, stay alert.

I go to the front door and ring the bell.  And wait.  Darlene is either purposely being a jerk  (what else is new?  I thought she wanted us finished before the neighborhood school kids started coming home from school), or something is up.  As i sense the time window to get our fight over with, I flash back to 1983--if I had knocked on Darlene's door back then, we would have been trying to get a fight in before our parents came home.  Why was I so self-conscious back then about fighting the neighbor girl and telling my parents?  Once I told them about how Darlene was freezing me out of high school parties, wouldn't they have been proud of me sticking up for myself?  Was it because I knew a fight between Darlene and me wouldn't be a schoolyard fist fight or even a streetfight, but even back then would have been a catfight?  Was I afraid to let my parents in on the sexual tension between Darlene and me, even in 1983?  Did I not want to have a birds-and-bees conversation that involved be being anything other than plain vanilla straight heterosexual?  Darlene and I had a whole grassy yard between our houses--why didn't we just fight right there?  Lisa and Sandy's fight had been outside on grass.  Why were we looking for an opportunity to fight inside?  Did we both want a naked brawl back then?  Is that why it never happened? 

Shit, I've been waiting a long time.  Some thing's up.  Stay on guard.


Darlene comes to the door.  She's hiding something--women's intuition.  And she's trying too hard to act natural.  "You made it!!  Come on in!!"  Like I'm here for a fucking wedding shower.  Bitch.

The stench of Lysol is overwhelming.  "Do you fucking have cats?", I inadvertently blurt out.  "No pets, why," says Darlene, way too casually.  I keep my distance from her.  She's fixing to jump me, I can feel it.  Not that I'm opposed to the idea--that's what i drove 3 hours for, after all--just not till I can figure out this bitch's angle this morning.  Then it hits me--what the Lysol is meant to cover up.  It's pepper spray.

Back in my Nevada biker chick days in the 1990s, I had been caught in the wrong place at the wrong time when the cops raided a biker bar, the bikers were none to happy about it, and the cops came at us full force with batons and pepper spray.  If that was today, tasers would have been in the mix too, but pepper spray was their go-to weapon that day.  I was young and inexperienced, and I got some to the face--I'll never forget the distinctive smell and sting, and I could tell it was coming from upstairs, which explained the open windows.

I got angry, rushed Darlene, pinned her left hand behind her back, and jammed her face into the kitchen island granite.

--Explain what's going on, you no-good lying slut, I hiss at her.

--What?  Diane, let me go. 

Darlene's mouth is partially covered by the countertop, so I wiggle her head sideways, but just barely, so she can talk.  We are both shaking.

--Diane, let me go.

--As soon as you tell me what's up.  Darlene, that's fucking pepper spray coming from upstairs.

--What?!?!?!?

I cram her face back into the granite.

--Don't lie to me, bitch, or I.  Will.  Fucking.  Hurt.  You.

I'm serious too.  I almost walked into an ambush this morning.  I'm as mad at myself as I am at Darlene.  But I'm not telling her that.

Minutes pass.  Probably seconds, but it seems like minutes.  If we don't start soon, our fight window is going to close.  At least at this location.  Damn, and I was primed for a brawl, too.  But not an unfair one.  Stay on guard.

I can tell Darlene has cracked--she whimpering like after the end of our second fight.  Like when a girl gives to you in an arranged fight, even though Darlene hasn't officially said the words.

Darlene's resistance lets up.  I relax my hold.

--Fine, you wanna know what happened?  Let me go.

--Tell me first.  And one lie and this island will have your face permanently imprinted in it, you got that?

Lame, I know.  But I'm pissed.

--Diane, I swear this is true.  But long story short--remember when we fought before?  That blonde receptionist Sierra?  I brought her with me to our second fight?

Umm, ya.  I remember everything about her, dumb ass.  She and I finger fucked after the fight, remember?  Or maybe you were more out of it than I remember.  Sweet.

--Vaguely.  What about her?

--Diane, I'm bi, ok?  And I had been trying to date her for months.  But she was hesitant because of our age difference.  But when I told her you and I fought, she was interested.  She likes watching catfights.  But she only likes being with the winner.  Well, you told her you won the first fight, but she told me if a second fight happened and I won, I could have my way with her.  So I brought her with me to your house, and I thought I could beat you with her watching.  But you beat me, and nothing happened between her and me the whole ride home.  Or since.

Damn, I think.  Hot.

--What the fuck does this have to do with pepper spray upstairs? 

--Diane, I had this dumb idea that if you came here this morning, I could put you down with pepper spray, take a picture, text it to Sierra, and tell her you and I had fought and I had won.  And then she would want me.  But when I was getting the spray out this morning, I forgot how to use it, and the cannister exploded.  I threw open all the windows before I passed out.  Stupid.

I release my grip.

I back off.  Darlene is whimpering.

Minutes pass in silence.

She's right about one thing.  Sierra would have definitely wanted her.  Shit, the blonde went crazy on me after she watched me beat Darlene at my place.

--Darlene, are you crying because you fucked up your plan.  Or because you miss Sierra?

--Both.

--Because, if you miss Sierra, maybe I can help you.

Darlene looks me in the eye for the first time all morning.  Shit's finally getting real.

--If she likes catfights, let's give her a show.  Let's catfight in front of her.  Winner gets to fuck her.

To be continued......

[Vanessa]

I am not sure how you do it hon but this keeps getting better and better. Just when it appears to be getting good you ramp it up even more. Awesome job!

[sinclairfan]

FIGHTING FOR SIERRA

Darlene did not hesitate in texting Sierra.  Something along the lines of:  "SOS.  Diane is here--with me.  We want to fight today--you can watch.  Call me."  Sierra called back quicker than i expected, and said she could be at Darlene's at 6, and for us not to start without her.  She said she was "sort of in a relationship, with a new guy", and that by attending tonight she was "definitely risking messing that up", but that it was "totally worth it for you two bitches".  I pretended not to hear that remark, so that Darlene would not notice my cheeks turning warm.

Darlene showed me the room we would fight in--a ground floor unfurnished dining room with wood flooring.  The entire house was way underfurnished--Darlene either didn't have the cash to furnish it, was getting ready to downsize someday, or was staying flexible for a future partner someday.  I think of the comments she had made to me--telling she was bi, asking if I was "done with guys for good", her wanting to date Sierra.  Was she hoping Sierra would move in someday?  As someone who had lived 6 years of subprime hell in Nevada, ground zero of the real estate crash, the house screamed out "faking it financially" to me.  But maybe I was projecting again.  Or maybe it was wishful thinking.

Let's test my hunch, i think to myself as Darlene shows me the fight room.  Maybe Darlene has her check register out, or brokerage statements.  I'm in full-blown kleptomaniac mode, and I don't feel guilty at all--this psycho was planning on pepperspraying me.  I see real estate agent business cards and slip one in my pocket--so the bitch is working as a realtor:  I kind of already deduced that from the visit to the condo complex for our first fight.  I notice she's doing business under one of her prior married names--something for me to research at a later time.  If I still give a shit after I kick her ass tonight, and fuck her girlcrush.  With her watching.

Just in the nick of time, as my aggression hormones are reawakening, Darlene offers for me to stay until 6 ("I can't go anywhere anyways with the upstairs windows open"), and I say thanks-but-no-thanks, flag Uber, tell Darlene I'll be back at 6:15 tonight (if I arrive before Sierra does at 6, and Darlene and I are alone, I can already tell we'll get into it), and go out to the sidewalk to wait for my ride.  The morning kindergarten busses are just rolling thru the neighborhood, moms and grandmoms and nannies  picking up the 5 year olds.  If this morning had gone differently, right now I would have been walking out after a vicious catfight, hopefully victorious, but likely wounded.  What would the moms and nannies have thought as they saw me standing there, I wonder.  Have any of them ever gone to the house of a romantic rival while school was going on and had a catfight?  Did they love it as much as I do?

I look at the grandmother's picking up the kids at the bus stops.  Some can't be more than 5 or 10 years older than me.  If my life had gone differently, that would have been me this time of day, every school day.  Would that have been a happier life for me?  Would I have been less broke?  I would definitely be less lonely.  And less scared about the future.

Why am I in my shoes today, instead of theirs?  Why are they picking up kids at a bus stop, and I'm waiting for an Uber ride in a strange city to catfight for sex with a kinky blonde half my age I barely know?  Why did I never get pregnant?  Am I bi like Darlene?  Did some part of me know it all these years?  Am I facing now what I should have faced when I was 20?  Would my life have been happier?  Am I unhappy now?  Or just still reeling from my foreclosure nightmare?  Why don't I have any close friends?  Is Darlene the closest thing to a friend in my life right now?  Is this what it's like to have a frenemy?

Uber picks me up.  I ask to get taken to a Panera drive through window, then back to my motel room.  I'm famished.  I finish eating.  Shit, 2:38 already--where is the day going.  I shower, but don't feel cleaner--shoulda sprung for a more expensive motel.  If I had known I was seeing Sierra, I would have brought more makeup.  Maybe I should have taken Darlene up on her offer to stay at her house.  She had more than enough bathrooms for both of us.

Maybe she would have jumped me in the shower.  I try and wrap my head around her pepper spray plan.  Has she ever pepper sprayed someone?  Did one of her divorces go so wrong that she felt threatened by him, and was maybe even attacked by him?  Is that how she learned to fight?

I think back of my pinning Darlene on the kitchen island this morning.  I learned that move, I realize now, from my biker chick days, when I got pinned by a cop during a raid.  What moves are in Darlene's head that she'll use tonight?  I've won 2 fair fights--is she going to keep banging her head against the wall trying to beat me fair?  Or is she going to cheat?  Does her pepper spray plot mean she's out of ideas, or just getting started? 

What about me?  What should my strategy be tonight?  Fight like before?  Do something different?  I don't even remember--what WAS my strategy the first two fights?

What about Sierra?  Use her as motivation?  Or keep my focus on Darlene?

Fuck, it's 4:15.  I need a nap, but too late now.  The vodka for breakfast was a mistake--my body thinks it's 10pm now.  Fuck, this isn't feeling right.  Backing out now will be humiliating.  I can just imagine what Darlene would post of Facebook. 

Should I just have kicked the shit out of Darlene this morning, when I had her whimpering?  Why did I let her off the hook?

Am I going to regret letting Sierra into the picture?  Or is she the whole point of this?  Is she the girl that finally makes me lose my hang-up, and let's me move on and have a normal sex life while I'm sill fuckable?  Am I the only woman in America, straight or otherwise, not having sex on Snapchat?

I try to masturbate.  I can't get "over to top", so now I'm even more out of sorts than when I started.  5:10.  I need to get ready.  I arrange for Uber to pick me up at 5:45.  What are the rush hour traffic patterns here?  I don't know--remember?  I don't live here!!!

I'm tired, and the Panera wasn't enough food for today.

This has disaster written all over it.

To be continued.......

[sinclairfan]

LOVE TRIANGLE

It's 6:45pm in an Irving, Texas McMansion, and there are three bitchy, horny women sitting naked in a McMansion living room sipping white wine.

I'm bitchy because I'm hungry and tired from a long morning drive, and a nightmare Uber ride thru Dallas rush hour traffic that got me here 30 minutes late.

Darlene is bitchy because she spent the afternoon finding out the upstairs of her house has $25,000 of pepper spray damages.  She's a realtor, so a contractor will fix it for cost.  You and me?--we'd pay $40,000 for the same repairs.

Which makes me even bitchier.   Just because she's a realtor??  Lucky tramp.  I want to punch her in the tits for that.

Sierra (God, she's fucking hot) is bitchy because she stood up her boyfriend tonight to watch a catfight, and he dumped her.  She's in the mood for some scorching rebound sex.

Either Darlene or me are going to give it to her.  One or the other.  Not both.

So the anticipation has all 3 of us horny.

Sierra has a couple of (tasteful) tattoos, a statuesque body, even longer blonde hair than when I finger fucked her 2 months ago.

Anyone would want her.  Man or woman.  Boy or girl.  Straight or bi or transgender or gender fluid or whatever new crap they have today.  Any.  One.  Would.  Fuck.  Sierra.  She's pure, walking, talking sex.

Darlene and I want her.  Only one will have her.  She only fucks winners.

I'm late.  But I'm here now.  No point pretending there will be rules.  The vacant dining room has French doors.  Sierra will be watching thru those.  Watching who her rebound sex fuck for the night will be.

I tell Darlene that the sooner we start fighting, the sooner the winner starts fucking Sierra.

I go into the dining room first, and Darlene follows and shuts the doors.  Sierra takes a barstool and pulls it up to the French door to watch.  She's buck naked, and crossing her legs.  

Always the lady.

Nothing ladylike about what's about to happen on the other side of the French doors, in here.

Darlene and I are in each others hair instantly.  I'm going to shred this bitch.  My nails are in her scalp.  Hers are tearing of my hair like I'm in a barber's chair.  Mine move to her back and shoulders and dig deep, like a plow in farmland.  Our tits are touching, hard as 20 year olds.  We go to the floor, tightening our grips.

We roll into the wall, my butt up against it.  Darlene's knees pound my crotch.  The pain is crippling.  I lose my grip on Darlene.  She scrambles to her feet and starts kicking my head and face.  She connects a couple times, then misses, her big toe connecting with the baseboard, her shrieking in pain and swearing.  She turns away, I'm up, and I tackle her.  I reach around and bury my claws into both of her tits.  I twist mercilessly, and tell her in her ear what a no-good lying bitch she is and always has been.  She bends backwards, and slams my head onto the hardwood floor.

She pins me, and goes into ground and pound mode.  But her tits are unprotected, and I start to punch.  I knee her desperately in the back, her butt slides up to my mouth, and I bite her thighs.  Darlene screeches again, leaning forward, and bites my left shoulder.  She reaches backwards and claws my crotch.

I roll, and slam Darlene into the wall.

We both leap up and face each other, hateful stares penetrating each others eyes.

We square up. warily circling, jabbing each others tits.

We're both out of breath.

Neither one is renewing the clinch.

Sierra opens the French doors, holding our white wine glasses.

"Ding, ding.  I think that's round one ladies.  I had it 10-9 Diane for the first use of biting.  But I don't think this one is going to a decision.  I think we'll have a KO soon."

To be continued.....

[Vanessa]

Oh my god yes....don't you dare keep us waiting for round 2.

[sinclairfan]

FIRST INTERMISSION

Darlene and I instinctively retreat the opposite corners to be tended to by Sierra.  She did the right thing choosing this fight over a boyfriend tonight--no guy is worth missing the epic bitch brawl whispy is underway.  I want to sit, but don't want Darlene to think I'm tired, so I stand while Sierra dabs my shoulder bite wound with napkins and bottled water.  I hiss across at Darlene " I hope you got your rabies shot."  She hisses right back, "Didn't you get yours at your clinic, already, treating your STDs?"  .  And I'm back at her, "Bitch, your STD treatment plan is abstinence."

"Ladies, ladies," interrupts Sierra, "I appreciate the passion.  But save the energy for Round 2.  You're gonna need it."  She continues tending my wound.

I stop, because I know that last one stung Darlene as much as any tit punch I dished out in Round 1.  She's in a slump sexually, and I know why.  Instead of going on a post-divorce sex bender, like any self-respecting middle aged woman (including me; hey, we've all been there), she's fixated on Sierra.  Obviously ran into her one day as part of her realtor job, and was smitten.  Started asking her out, and struck out.  Then along comes me, her high school rival, and already scores an epic mutual finger fuck.  Which Darlene had to watch.  No wonder the bitch is so bitter.

As Sierra wraps up treating my wound, I survey the hair littering the floor.  It's about half-and-half--half is my brown hair, but a solid 50% is Darlene's jet black Portuguese hair.  Good.  During the fight, it felt like I was the only one losing hair.  But I got her good.

Before Sierra leaves me to treat my opponent, she whispers to me:  "Keep doing what you did on that round baby, and I'll give you the best fuck you ever had."  She then leans in, and we tongue kiss for 15 seconds.  I know it was exactly 15--you don't forget a kiss from that girl.

Shit.  I wish I could fuck her right now.

As Sierra walks over to Darlene and treats her thigh bite, I feel the glow of Sierra telling both of us that she thinks I won the first round.  Sierra washes Darlene's thigh, but then stats tease-kissing Darlene's pussy.  If she's trying to make me jealous, it's working.  If she's trying to make Round 2 even more intense, it's working.  If she's trying to turn on Darlene, it's working.  I can see Darlene's tits and nipples at full arousal.  Note to self:  target those things early in Round 2.

My cardio is back--I'm ready to start Round 2.  But Sierra is continuing to towel off Darlene.  I always wondered why Lisa and Sandy, when they had their high school catfight, did it in front of us classmates instead of in front of their mutual boyfriend's.  Was it because if you do it in front of the 3rd person in the triangle, that the cattiness and viciousness takes over, like is happening with Darlene and me? 

I could kill that bitch right now, no lie.  Even my worst biker chick fight wasn't like this--no matter how close and dirty the fight had been, no matter how long the feud, when it was over, the winner would get in maybe one last hit, or kick, but then would walk away.  I have no desire to walk away from Darlene.  I want to destroy her body, steal everything I can grab in her house, destroy her reputation on Facebook....

And steal Sierra from her.  Especially that one.  I want Sierra.  And want to block Darlene from having Sierra.

Sierra is whispering something in Darlene's ear.

She leaves thru the French doors, saying,  "Ding, ding.  Round 2."

To be continued......

[Wilts1755]

Has the second part of this story been written, if so what title is it under? Can't wait for this to come to a finish... Maybe it is in "Deadskirts.com"  for the ultimate end, a final round catball fight with the winner taking Sierra and  fucking each other over her body.