[sinclairfan]

HEATHER VS DAWN

I return to work on Monday, Columbus Day.  I'm unable to focus on work, with thoughts of talking on the phone with Heather consuming my attention.  At lunchtime, I text her to see if she can talk in the afternoon.  She can.

I take the afternoon off.  I drive home, masturbating at every red light on the way.

I strip and hop into bed.  I call Heather.

I ask her to reverse the fight scenario.  Instead of her wanting to marry and "clearing the way" by having a fight with the hometown girlfriend, I ask her if there's any guy in her life she'd like to protect from a bad marriage to another girl.  She thinks.

Then she tells me about a disc jockey friend her age from Joe.  He's dating a too-mature-for-her-age 18 year old named Dawn.  I need to see Dawn, so I log onto my laptop, and Heather and I go to her Facebook and Instagram pages.  Gross.  Not Dawn--she's pretty.  It's gross how every other pic is her glomming onto Joe.

Heather and I masturbate to thoughts of Dawn wanting to marry Joe, and Joe playing hard-to-get-to-commit.  Dawn figures out that Heather is giving advice to Joe.  She gets angry, and calls Heather.  The two have a vicious verbal argument, which transitions to a challenge to a catfight.  The two determine a time and place, and have it out.  Heather and I masturbate together to that fight.

We hang up.

I can't let go of the scenario, of the rivalry.  Except I need even more pre-fight animosity between the opponents.  What if Dawn thought that Heather's relationship with Joe was more than an advice-giving one?  What if she thought Joe was actually sleeping with Heather?

I ask to connect to Dawn on Facebook and Instagram.  I wait.  I take a nap.  When I wake up at 4, Dawn has connected with me on Instagram.  I take a topless pic Heather has sent to me, and I share it with Dawn.  I explain to Dawn that I'm romantically interested in Heather (which is true), and should I be threatened by Joe (that part is false), who Heather talks about all the time (well, she talked about him 2 hours ago)  [I've just played a very, very twisted game of Two Truths and a Lie with a woman 1/3rd My age--if you don't like it, sue me.] .

Dawn has a temper, I learn.

But the slow burning type.

She keeps me on the phone.  She thanks me, in fact, for bringing Heather and Joe's "relationship" to her attention.

Social media to Millenials is what global geopolitics would be like if every country on Earth had nuclear weapons.  Everyday, you'd be seeing into the newspaper 2 (or more) countries lobbing the things at each other.  North Korea at Japan.  Russia at Ukraine.  Libya at Egypt.  Saudi Arabia at Egypt.  Turkey at Syria.  Sudan at South Sudan.  The Central African Republic at itself.  Colombia at Bolivia.  (I'm a politics/history buff; at least before my fight with Vanessa 10 months ago.)

I ask Dawn to be discreet, to not reveal my identity to Heather.  She agrees.

It won't be tonight, and it won't be tomorrow, but Dawn and Heather will eventually fight.  Because of me.

I feel a twinge of remorse.

Offset by a burning desire to hear about the outcome of that fight.

Like I said:
(1) Wolf in wolf's clothing
(2) Don't like it?   Sue me.

To be continued.....

[sinclairfan]

OBSESSING

I spend the entire workday obessing about my phone conversations with Heather.  I still have the desire to instigate a Heather vs Lesley catfight, but if something goes wrong, i would feel guilty.  Knowing both of them, they would fight until one or both of them was seriously injured.  They're like me.  They fight for keeps.

Plus, I would be in trouble with my employer.

But I've apparently instigated an online catfight between Heather and a rival named Dawn.  Not exactly with Heather's permission.  Will she be angry with me?  Have a ruined a budding catfight friendship?

The next day after work, I call her.  Yes, she notices I've stirred up shit between her and Dawn.  Yes, at first she was upset.  But now she likes it.  She likes the mystery of wondering if a rival 600 miles away will jump her unexpectedly.  She likes having the unspoken rivalry between her and Dawn in the open.  She likes giving Dawn reason to hesitate pursuing Joe.  If Dawn pursues Joe, she knows now she needs to go thru Heather.  And it would be a good fight.

Heather tells me she's been snooping around my social media accounts.  "Oh, and by the way, those secretaries and office managers who left--that was your doing, wasn't itg Trudy?".

"Damn straight."

"How vicious were the fights?".

"On a scale of 1 thru 10?   9"

"Have you ever had a 10?".

"Yes, twice.  Same woman.  Once last Christmas, and then this past summer, in Panama."

"What's her name?".

"Vanessa."

"When's round 3?".

"Christmas again."

"I know what I want for Christmas this year--to watch you and her fight."

To be continued....

[sinclairfan]

2 A.M. PHONE CALL

It's 2a.m. Friday night/Saturday morning.  I'm in deep, deep REM sleep.  My phone rings.  What the fuck.  I check the caller i.d.  It's Heather.  I smile instantly.  I miss her.

Me:  Hey, darling.

Her:  Hey, Trude.

Me:  What's up, baby doll.  Any hot Friday night date?

Her:  College girls don't date anymore, we hook up.  But that's not why I'm calling.

Me:  Not that I'm complaining, but your voice sounds shaky, baby doll.

Her:  It is.  My hands, too.  I just had the most vivid dream.

Me:  Like, as in, a nightmare?

Her:  Sort of.  It was, like, a fight dream.

Me:  Hun, who was fighting.

Her:  Me.  And Lesley.

Me:  Like, what kind of fight?

Her:  Trudy, I'm serious, it was, like, sssoo fucking realistic.  Like we were trying to fucking kill each other.

Me:  Heather, I've never heard you like this.  You sound so..., so..., like actually shaken up.

Her:  Trudy, I am.  Like, I can't even......<<<<breathing>>>>

Me:  Heather....Heatherr, stay with me, girl.  Deep breaths.

<<<<<<<Deep breathing>>>>>>>

Me:   Take your time, girl.  I have all night.

Heather:  I'm ok....it's, just.....Trudy, my fist was, like, crunching into her face.  It was, like,......

Me:  Were you not wanting to be there??

Her:  Trudy, no. ...just the opposite.  Trudy, I loved it.  Trudy, I need to tell you something.

Me:  Heather, you're scaring me.  What is it?

Her:  Trudy, if I wasn't calling you right now, do you know who'd I be calling?

Me:  No, Heather.  Who??

Her:  Trudy, I'd be calling her.  Lesley.

Me:  To tell her what?  About your dream?

Her:  Sort of, but more specific.  To tell her I want to fight her.  Like, tonight.

Me:  Heather, like, do you want to fight now?  I mean, now that you're talking to Me?

Her:  No, no, I mean.  That's why I called you.  I know that's insane.  But, Trudy, I swear, if you hadn't answered...... I mean....Trudy, .....What's happening to me?

Me:    <<<<<fingering myself>>>>>>  Baby doll, that's so,....hot.....i think about you and Lesley fighting all the time......i don't even do work, really, at work anymore.....<<<<both of us breathing harder, more in more in unison>>>>>......i think about you fighting Lesley......fighting Dawn....

Her:  .....I think about you fighting Vanessa.....

<<<<<<protracted mutual orgasms......>>>>>>>

Me:  Heather, thank you for calling me.

Her:  Thank you for answering.

Me:   mmmmmmmmm......

<<<<<<long pause>>>>>>>

Me:  You versus Lesley.

Her:  Me versus that cxnt.

<<<<<<I cum loudly>>>>>>>

Her:  I need to do that for you.

Me:  You Don't owe me that.

Her:   But I want to.

I want that, too.

More than anything.

To be continued.....

[sinclairfan]

A CONVERSATION WITH LESLEY

The next day, I call Lesley at Middlebury College in Vermont, another of the feeder schools for our program, though not as extensively as Bucknell.  Lesley comes from a family of lawyers (not her parents, but generations of aunts and uncles and cousins), and is studying a borderline pre-law field, History, with an emphasis on Asian History in general and Korean language in particular.

The History angle gives me a conversational "in" with Lesley.  I'm a bit of a history buff myself.  If I had become a scholar for my career instead of an office manager, that's the field it would have been in.  What most people don't realize is that becoming a historian, unless you specialize in American and/or British history, requires immersing yourself in original sources in the native language of the country you're studying.  So you are forced to become a fluent reader of the native language of your area of specialty.  For Lesley, this means Korean, and it's unique script and alphabet system, which was created in the 14th century and is called "Hangul". 

Lesley and I discuss her studies.  She is impressed with my eclectic knowledge of the 1592 to 1598 invasion of Korea by the Japanese warlord Hideyoshi, who was "passing through" on a Quixotic (and unsuccessful) quest to conquer China.  The Koreans stopped Hideyoshi, but only at the cost of the destruction of most of the cities in their country.

Lesley is impressed by my use of the word Quixotic.

The conversation turns erotic.  She asks what made me think of her.  I tell her about my conversations with Heather.  I tell Lesley that I would love to watch a catfight between her and Heather.  She can tell how serious I am by my arousal.

Lesley describes to me how during last summer she fantasized about fighting Heather.  How she imagined the two of them interviewing for single job, a returning intern slot for next summer, and the 2 of them privately agreeing to fight for the spot, with the loser agreeing to withdraw her application.  The day of the fight, after 5 minutes of hairpulling and kicking, the two women realize they are an even match, and that the fight will get more vicious than either had anticipated.  But their competitive female instincts kick in, and neither is willing to back down.

I get an inspiration.  I try to think of a way to secure budget funding for a January thru May personal assistant.  I tell Lesley I have only 2 candidates in mind, her and Heather.  I ask if she would take a semester off of school if such a position were available.  I lose track if we're fantasizing now or being serious, but Lesley says hell yes.  Hell yes she'd take the job, and hell yes she'd fight Heather for it.

Lesley and I masturbate to thoughts of that fight.

The fall sunset is kicking in.  I Don't want to hang up with Lesley.  I ask her to tell me about her most vicious real fight.  She tells me about a summer lacrosse camp, with girls from around the country.  She tells me about a blonde named Fallon who had a run-in with her in a scrimmage.  The two stared each other down and knew right away that before the camp was over they would fight.  Fallon's friend arranged a nighttime meet up spot in the woods with Lesley's friend, and both showed at the designated time and place.  What each expected to be a 2-minute tussle turned into a 4-round war, ending in topless tit-boxing.  As Lesley describes the 2 jeans-only clad warriors in a stand up punching duel under a summer full moon, their skin glistening in sweat, I scream and thrash in multiple orgasms.

Next Monday is my party planning phone call with Vanessa.  I know what I'm going to tell her.  She and I are going to get together after the party.  And we're going to have entertainment.

A battle between 2 college girls named Heather and Lesley.

To be continued.....

[sinclairfan]

SSAUDA = KOREAN FOR PHYSICAL FIGHT

Did you know, the Korean language has a lovely word for a physical fights, as opposed to fighting for, say, a cause or something.  The Romanized word (the Korean word transliterated to our ABC alphabet) is "ssauda".

I learned this from my new best friend, the Asian History asdcholar, Lesley.  I was staying in close touch with Lesley for 2 reasons.  Firstly, I needed to prevent a social media/text war from erupting between Lesley and Heather.  If one did, they might fight before I could arrange a viewing by Vanessa and me.  And Lesley-Heather was one catfight I did not want to miss--it had the makings of the catfight of the decade.  Secondly, I was trying to bond closer to Lesley.  I had already bonded closely to Heather via masturbation sessions on the phone, but Lesley was not quite so, umm, enthusiastic in that department.  History was my "in" to bond with her.

Another was to take her fight-clothes shopping.  On the internet, in the Regina-Sue fight story, Regina had gone to a LGBT shop in Northampton to go shopping for catfight clothes.  I decided Lesley and I needed to do the same.  I picked her up at Middlebury the last Saturday of October, and we drove south to Northampton.

When the clerk in the store came over, I just blurted it out.  "My friend needs clothes for a catfight for a job."  The first clerk excused herself and went in the back.  But she sent out a colleague.  "Did I hear correctly?".

You did.  Yes, you did.

To be continued.....

[sinclairfan]

I GET TO WATCH LESLEY FIGHT

When the store manager, a bi-looking-but-feminine brunette a couple of years older and a couple of inches taller than me, came out from the back of the store, I briefly thought I might be in trouble.  Bringing a college coed to a store to buy catfight clothes--great role model I must be, right?

My fears were groundless.  I soon learned that rather than being in any sort of trouble, Lesley and I were being welcomed as VIP guests.  The store manager offered to concierge Lesley through a wide array of catfight clothing option. 

--So, this catfight is over a job, you say?  What type of employment?

--A law office.

--Figures.  You lawyers.  Only the bankers enjoy catfights more.

--You don't say?

--Or at least that's how it is in the Northeast.  The West Coast has its own unique, errr, tastes.  And customs.

--I bet.

--Lesley, darling, how about fighting in these nice slacks and this blouse.

--(Me)  She'd look smoking in it, of course.  But will she be able to move?  You know, quickly and flexibly?

-- That's precisely why I recommend it.  But you don't need to take my word for it.  What do you say we have her put it on and try it?

--(Lesley)Try it how?  You mean, like, fight in it?  Against who?

The store manager claps her hands, and into the room steps a gorgeous model, about Lesley's age and size.  The two stare each other down, inches apart.

--Against, me, bimbo.  That is, if you have the guts.

--Can I, Trudy?  Please?

*****************************

Five minutes later, the store manager and I are seated on a couch in the back of the store.  Lesley has changed into the office clothes.  The model, who the store manager calls Leah, has changed into a similar outfit.

Lesley and Leah step to the center of the room, and immediately lock hands to shoulders, kicking each other's shins.  They're doing more than sparring, but They're not even close to "cutting loose", going at 20% of what They're capable of, tops.  Both Lesley and I are still have wondering if this is some sort of prank.  Or worse, a set up.

My fears start to subside when the store manager takes her right hand and slides it down the front of my pants.  She begins the slowly caressing me, while smiling at how soaked I am.  She brings her finger to her mouth and licks it.

--Now, Lesley dear, show me if those clothes give you the flexibility your friend said you require.

Lesley digs her nails into Leah's scalp.  The two girls still aren't brawling, but the fight is now clearly on.  As is the foreplay between the store manager and me, our tongues deep down each other's throats.  We are both maximally aroused, the sounds of us cumming blending with the two girls fighting.

The store manager and I simultaneously finger each other as Leah and Lesley roll on the floor.  Leah gets Lesley into a defensive guard--Leah clearly has martial arts training, at least at a self-defense level.  Which means she knows how to hold off Lesley without hurting her.  This last inhibition, me worrying about Lesley getting hurt today, falls away, and I release in an explosive climactic organism to the sound of Lesley and Leah calling each other bitches.

I tell the store manager that Lesley and I will take 2 of the outfits.  One in Lesley's size, and one in Heather's.

Leah tells Lesley to come back anytime she wants to try out any other clothes.

To be continued.....

[sinclairfan]

"WHAT WAS THAT PLACE?"

Lesley and I take the boxes of new fight clothes, her with her own and me with Heather's, and get back in the car for the trip back up to Vermont.  After an awkward silence, Lesley turns to me and says:

Her:  How did you know about that PLACE?  I mean, not that I'm complaining, but what WAS that?

Me:  Pretty cool, huh?  Clothes for any catfight occasion.

Her:  And test them out with sparring partner, while your patner gets finger fucked.  By the way, how was it.

Me:  Hey, now.

Her:  Well??

Me:  It was pretty same good.  But I was aroused watching you and your new friend, Leah.

Her:  God, what a bitch.  R. B.  F.  Resting Bitch Face, if i ever saw one.

Me:  She seemed anxious for a rematch.  Gonna take her up on it?

Her:  Can you imagine?  The manager says, "and what type of catfight do you need clothes for?", and I say, "Umm, yes, what do you recommend if I'd like to kick Leah's ads in, say, 10 minutes?".

Us:  <<<<<Genuine joyful laughter.  The first I've experienced in years, i realize.  This Lesley is a keeper.  I think I'm falling in love.  Seriously.  Me.  Trudy.>>>>>

Her:  So it wasn't a buzzkill that Leah got med into some bullshit MMA hold.

Me: Not a chance, kid.  You did great.  The animosity between you two was intense, raw, real.  Besides, Leah must pretty much have to do that to every new customer.  Don't let t hem get any ideas about making a name for yourself by coming in one day and beating up the store model.

Her:  So back to my question.  How did you hear about that place?

Me:  Well, I didn't, not quite exactly.  What I mean is, I was there on a tip from a story I read.  There was this catfight story, Regina vs Sue, on the web.  Regina is a woman from Connecticut who is this mistress to a guy from work, and she finds out that at the same company has this other mistress, Sue.

Her:  Hot.  Mistress vs mistress catfight.

Me:  So, Regina goes to Northampton and impulsively tells the store clerk that she needs new clothes for an impending catfight, and the store clerk nonchalantly engages with her likes it's the most normal thing in the world for a clerk and a customer to be discussing.

Her:  Like it's a category on Amazon or something.

Me:  Exactly.  "Mistress Catfight Fight Wear."  So, I figured the writer of the story must have gotten inspiration from a real place in Northampton.

Her:  Maybe even that exact place.

Me:  Maybe.

Her: <<<<coyly>>>> I just got inspiration of my own.

Me:  Oh?  Do tell.

Her:  Well, I'm your mistress.  And Heather is your mistress.

Me:  <<<<slyly>>>>....and?  What are you going to do about it?   <<<<our hands touch>>>>

Her:  We're.  Going.  To.  Fight.  For.   You.

<<<<<<I pull over to a rest stop with a view of the Vermont October foliage.  Past peak season.  But that's not the point.  Lesley and i tongue kiss and finger each other for the next hour.>>>

Yep.  It's love.

To be continued.....

[sinclairfan]

WOLF'S CLOTHING

Now, the "normal" course of action for me to take at this point would have been for me to retire from work, move to Vermont, and pursue a future with Lesley.  She was my intellectual equal, I was ridiculously attracted to her, we enjoyed fighting for each other's viewing enjoyment, and hell we had found a fight club "in" in Northampton.i was 29 years older than Lesley, but heck the new President of France has a partner that much older than him.  It could work.

But I'm a wolf, and I got greedy.  I wanted to see a Lesley-Heather bitch war.  And I wanted a final crack at Vanessa.

So I got sloppy.  I dropped off Lesley at Middlebury, and went back to work to secure funding for a personal assistant the next spring.  This was a prerequisite for the 2 coeds having a job to fight for.

And I got busy reaching out to Vanessa for Christmas party arrangements for the first Saturday night of December.  I told her that after the party, she and I would have our 3rd showdown.  And I had prepared an undercard--Heather vs Lesley. 

Vanessa enthusiastically embraced my plan.

And I did as well.

I started calling Heather a lot.  Then Lesley.  Then Heather.  Telling them what they were saying about each other.  Getting them jealous.

What could go wrong?

A lot.

To be continued.....

[sinclairfan]

FIGHT TIME

In hindsight, once I started hanging out with Lesley, I had surrendered control of subsequent events.  The reason was social media.  Lesley and Heather began stalking each other on Facebook and Instagram, and it was impossible to defer their fight to early December.

I actually should have known this would happen.  The catfight website i had been visiting had a story on it called VOLLEYBALL MOM CATFIGHT.  It was about a rich bitch suburban divorced mom named Michelle, whose daughter played volleyball, who wanted to fight a less-well-off mom with a daughter on the same travel volleyball team.  It occurred to Michelle how easy it is to trigger a catfight on social media, so she posted a bitchy comment on the other mom's Instagram page.  Sure enough, laater that week, the two mom's were fighting each other.  And the 2 daughters were as well.

Once Heather found out that I had spent time with Lesley, Heather and Lesley posted on each other's Instagram pages.  They then started texting each other.  And finally were calling each other, and arranging to fight at the next possible opportunity.  Which was the first weekend of November, not the first weekend of December.

Escalating the stakes of the fight was that neither had summer internships lined up for the subsequent summer.  Both had turned down other offers, and not applied at all for others, because each was hoping to work for me.

So, their fight would have both a romantic and a financial angle.  In other words, there was no way I wanted to miss this fucking fight.

And I knew Vanessa wouldn't want to miss it either.

So, I called her.  Good news--college coed bitchfight going down.

Bad news--it's going down in 5 days.  Can you make it.

Vanessa:  "Oh, I'll be there.  Where and when?"

Me:  "Halfway between Bucknell and Middlebury.  Albany, New York.  8pm Friday."

To be continued......

[sinclairfan]

TALE OF THE TAPE

Now, you might be wondering:  Trudy, two whip-smart sexy college coeds are about to beat the shit out of each other for you.  Why not just enjoy the show, and the aftermath, alone?  Why involve your enemy Vanessa.

Well, there are two answers to that, one practical and one selfish.

The practical answer is that Heather and Lesley were going to school 300+ miles away from each other.  And get this.  Neither of them own cars.  These Millenials take Uber everywhere and have no interest in owning cars.  It's weird.  When I was 17, getting wheels was the way you got to parties, to dates, to booty calls.   It was how you got to the mall to see and be seen.  To buy sexy makeup and clothes and shoes.  To have a staredown with a bitch and maybe start shit with her.  Now all the malls in the country are closing because these Millenial bitches sit in their rooms, order stuff of Amazon Prime, and start shit on each other's Facebook and Instagram pages.

I've become my grandmother, not understanding this generation.

But I digress.  The point is that I had to drive at least one of the girls to the fight.  So I needed Vanessa's help to drive the other.

But, there was a second reason for the decision I made.  Even though I was extremely attracted to both Heather and Lesley, I knew that once I watched one of them lose a catfight, that attraction would go right down the toilet.  I'm a wolf in wolf's clothing, and I need a partner who is a worthy sparring partner.  So, I needed Vanessa to gracefully get the fight loser out of my face and, frankly, out of my life.  And pawning off my sloppy seconds on Vanessa would give me one-up points on Vanessa.  Let her play nurse to some broken wannabe, while the winner and I enjoy new heights of ecstasy.

Now, in hindsight, this plan was ill-conceived.  Vanessa was like me, and would make her play for the winner, just like I would in her shoes.  I should have known that.  But, more on that later.

For now, I was fixated on the girlfight, in lovely office wear.  I would pick up Heather, Vanessa would pick up Lesley, and we would meet in a rented off-season banquet room in Colonie, outside of Albany, New York.

Now, who would win the fight?  I was dedicating a great deal of thought and contemplation to this question.  Heather was a natural alpha.  In everything she did, she needed to be the prettiest, the smartest, the best.  Just by my opening the door and having a simultaneous affair with her and Lesley, Heather was "rising to the occassion" to outdo her rival.  Almost businesslike about it.  I liked that.  But Lesley--well, she was the sleeping dog that you let lie.  Because once you woke her, she would bury her teeth into your jugular and not let go.  I could totally see her in that lacrosse camp fight she had one summer with another girl, just a face-saving sparring match to start, but a slugfest war by the time it was done.  Lesley was awake now--and knew the stakes.  The loser would miss an intern cycle the next summer, thus greatly increasing their student debt balance.  And both knew it.

And, not to be conceited, but I do think I was beach's first serious girlfriend. There was feminine pride on the line.

In short, the perfect matchup.  The irresistible force versus the immovable wall.

Let's fight, ladies.

To be continued.....

[Trudy]

Vanessa, I am glad to hear that because I want to get my teeth and claws in you too. In fact maybe before we have it we should discuss what we both want. I don't want a knock down punch out fist fight with you, I want it to be hair pulling, claws, and teeth. And we can't settle this in an hour. In fact I think we should check into a hotel suite and take as much time as we need. Overnight? The next day? I'm up for it if you are. Any ideas?

[sinclairfan]

ROAD-TRIPPING WITH HEATHER

On Saturday morning, I pick up Heather at her off-campus apartment near the Bucknell campus.  Her roommates are still sleeping.   I wonder to myself if Heather has told them where she's going and what she's doing.  Surely by tonight they'll know, when they see her bruised and scratched body.  Or worse, if she loses to Lesley.  But, I don't push the issue.

Instead, we kiss on the lips.  I miss the taste of Heather's mouth, since i started hanging out with Lesley.  Heather is a better kisser than Lesley, and her mouth always tastes fresh and minty.  I tell her that.  She rewards me with another kiss.  Longer and deeper.  I want go further, but we need to hit the road.

I wonder if Vanessa is kissing Lesley right now. 

Heather finishes putting on the business suit Lesley and I bought her at the shop in Northampton.  It's dark brown, like her hair.  In hindsight, something with a tad more contrast with hair would have been sexier, but otherwise this will do.  Hell, the suit will be shredded anyways by this afternoon.  She carries a hoodie to wear for the ride home.  The hood must be to cover her face.  Smart.  She's obviously road tripped to a catfight before.  Sexy.

We get in the car and enter the address in the GPS.  Once We're on the highway, I tell her how I'm amazed women her age don't go to malls anymore, telling her how central the were to girl drama when Vanessa and I were in our early 20s.

Heather:  Tell me about a time you started shit with a girl at a mall, Trudy.

Me:  Let me think, let me think.  Ok, here's one.  So, I'm 18, and a senior in high school.  I'm class of 1983, but I'm not partying with the boys and girls in my class.  I'm partying with the boys and girls in the class of 1981, 2 years older than me and already going to community college or commuting to regular college or "taking time off to make money before attending college"--you see, that was another difference between your generation and mine.  We'd think twice before taking out a student loan.

Heather:  Even though college cost $50 per semester?

Me:  Little bit more than that, but you've got the right idea.  Maybe $800 per semester for state school--and that was everything if you commuted--tuition, commuter meal plan, books....

Heather:  And people took time off for that instead of just borrowing?

Me:  Well, in all candidness, girls who <<<air quotes>>>> "took time off" sometimes never did end up going back.  Or they would, but wouldn't finish, because credits wouldn't transfer, yada, yada.

<<<<<<I get nostalgic for 1983.>>>>>

Anyways, back to fighting.  Or starting shit, which can be just as fun.  So, anyways, the girls from the class of 1981 are none too pleased that I'm hanging with them.  An 18 year old still in high school is more alluring to the boys than a used up 20 year old in the process of slowly becoming a college drop out.  But we don't have Instagram and Facebook, so how do I show or tell them that I'm not going anywhere.

So one of the boys goes by Nuge.  I think it was a piece of his last night, I don't even remember, isn't that weird?  Anyways, he was class of 1981, and had been center fielder on the state tournament baseball team.  That team was legendary--they were losing 7-2 in the last inning of the state tournament and came back and won, 8-7.  Nuge had one of the big hits in the rally.

So Nuge and the girl, Laura, who didn't like me hanging out with them and partying with the 81ers, used to walk around the Lincoln Mall on Saturdays holding Nuge's hand and holding bags of clothes he would buy her.

Well, the next Sunday, I call up Nuge and ask him if He'll take me to the Lincoln Mall.  And he and I walk around for 4 hours.  And he buys me a couple bags of stuff.

Heather:  Did you have to "give it up" for that?

Me:  Not bad, just a hand job in the car.

Heather:  Because Laura was a skank and was too disgusting to share cock with?

Me:  See, now, you're holding out on me--you know more about 1980s bitchfighting than you're letting on.

Heather:  Well, actually, I would have never guessed the hand holding in the mall part.  But now that you describe it, I get it.  Kinda neat.  Less to-the-point than a bitchy Instagram post, but just as effective.  If Laura's friends so you and him.  Did they?

Me:  They did.

Heather:  And did they tell her?

Me:  They did.

Heather:  And who won the fight between you and her?

Me:  You seriously need to ask that?

Heather:   Correction.  How bad did you hurt her in the fight you and her had?

Me:  Mmmmm.  Scratches.  Bites.

Heather:  Bites??

Me:  Hell ya.  You're not gonna hesitate to bite today, are you??  Because if you are, i might as well call work right now and tell them to put the name Lesley on the office.

Heather:  There's an office??

Me:  Sure is.

<<<<<We drive in silence for 10 minutes.>>>>

Heather:  Did Lesley bite in the fights she told you about?

Me:  In one of them, at least.  At a lacrosse camp.

Heather:  Did Laura stop hanging out with Nuge after you fought her?

Me:  Never saw her again.

Heather:  I never wanna see Lesley again after today.

<<<<<<More silence.>>>>>>

Heather:  So I know what i need to do.  Thanks.

To be continued......

[sinclairfan]

INTERLUDE--A FALL CAR TRIP IN UPSTATE NEW YORK

As Heather and I go over the Delaware River, which is the border between Pennsylvania and New York, on what is proving to be a gorgeous October Saturday, my body takes in a plethora of erotic sensations.

Heather has started combing her beautiful, thick, lustrous brown hair.  I wonder how much of it she will lose in the catfight which is about to happen.  She puts eye shadow and lipstick on her face in an intentionally ironic excessive manner, trying to look like a hooker, even though she is not one.  I tell her I love the lipstick. She smells wonderful.  I'm jealous of Lesley, getting to smell her up close when she's done up like this.

But erotic sensations are not the only ones I feel.

I feel fear.  Heather and Lesley both have families, including parents.  What if the parents someday find out that I've instigated a fight between Heather and Lesley?  What will they do to me?  Legally or otherwise?

I fear the future.  How much longer will I be desirable enough for two college coeds not just to want me, but to fight for me?  The catfight website i got involved reading had a story Regina vs Sue.  Regina was my age and bi--check and check, so far just like me.  But she talked about being in polyamorous relationships, where, without jealousy, you share partners.  Or, even worse, your partner takes other partners.  And you shut up and allow it.  No, honey, that's not me.  If you're with my partner, sweetie, you and me have a beef.  We're coming to blows.  Always been that way, whether the 3some is fff or fmf.  I do NOT share partners.  And guess what else?  Two of you want me?  Fine.  But at the end of the day, one of you is leaving.  Either you sort that thru civilly, or you fight for it.  And I get to watch.  Again, that's me.  Always been that way, always will.  Wolf in wolf's clothing.

Except.

Except, for how much longer will the two combatants be fit, smart, sexy, gorgeous college girls.  Not when I'm 60, right?  I mean, even if i still have my looks and smarts at that age, won't just saying "I'm Trudy, and I'm 60" be a mood killer?  I fear the loss of having that power.

I feel guilt.  I won't desire the loser of today's fight.  Will that hurt her feelings.

Will my employer find out the "job interview" I've set up?  (And am i fearful about it, or guilty?)

I look down at the Delaware River.  I took a rafting trip down if one June in 1989.  4 girls and 6 boys.  Not enough boys to go around.  A blonde girl Jamie and I competed for one of the boys.  I wanted to fight her so bad for him.  But there was no opportunity.

Heather and Lesley have that opportunity now.  They're the age now that I was that 1989 afternoon.

I try and block out the fear.

I try to live for this moment.

This wonderful, erotic moment.

To be continued....

[sinclairfan]

STAREDOWN

Heather and i arrive at the banquet facility, and enter the carpeted dining room.  I tell her I want to kiss her minty mouth one last time before it gets messed up in her fight with Lesley.  We tongue kiss for 10 seconds.  20 seconds.  30 seconds.  Big mistake.  I want to call off the fight, or defer it for at least a 2 hour lovemaking session with Heather, I'm so aroused.

But our kiss is interrupted by the arrival of Vanessa and Lesley.  Laughing loud and obnoxiously, as if drunk or high or stoned or all three.  Arm in arm, sides rubbing together.

"Hey, bitches," they set in unison.

"Strange way to show up for a job interview, slut," purrs Heather.  "Kissing your boss's enemy."

"After 5 minutes with you, I'll be the only healthy candidate, cxnt," hisses Lesley.

"I like these two, sweetie,"  Vanessa tells me.  "But especially Lesley.  Especially."  Vanessa and Lesley full on tongue kiss for a minute.

Between kissing Heather, seeing how much Heather and Lesley hate each other, and seeing Vanessa for the first time in months, my crotch is quaking and in need of attention.  I fake a cool demeanor, but I'm past ready for the fight to begin.  Way past.

I lock the door with all 4 of us in the room.  I motion Vanessa to take a chair in one corner, and I take a seat in the opposite one.  There is plenty of room in the middle, where Heather and Lesley now approach.

"Winner gets a thousand a week working for me January to August.  Loser--don't let the door hit your ads on the way out.  No rules.  Go."

The girls are in each other's hair on the the floor in a ball in ten seconds.  Heather is already biting Lesley's wrist.

And I already cum.

"Bite her back, Lesley!!!!" shouts Vanessa.

Lesley doesn't hesitate, biting Heather exposed midriff.

To be continued....

[sinclairfan]

VICIOUS CIRCLE, PUN INTENDED

As their fight progress, Heather and Lesley are getting more and more angry.  Which is causing them to bite harder and more brutally on each other's arms, shoulders, fingers, legs, and bellies.  Which is making them angrier.  Which is causing them to.....

Well, you get the idea.  A vicious circle.  Figuratively.  And literally.

I take in the sublime visual of the biting, clawing fight happening on the ground in front of me.  With Vanessa masturbating to it.

Have you ever had the light bulb go off in your head?  That feeling that you can now perceive something that's been in front of you all along?

I get that feeling.  It occurs to me--Heather will do to Lesley whatever I tell her to do.  Lesley will retaliate back however Vanessa instructs her to do.

I tell Heather to tear Lesley's top off.  Including the bra.

I barely get the words out between orgasms.  But I manage to do it.  Heather hears me.  And complies.

Vanessa shouts as Lesley to do the same.  "Get her tits out!".  Real classy, Vanessa.  Classy as always.

I yell at Heather to twist Lesley's chest.  Hold on an twist, like an owl twists his head.  360 degrees.  All the way around.  Heather twists and turns as hard as she can. Not quite a full 360.  Maybe 270, though.  Impressive.

Vanessa tells Lesley to retaliate by biting Heather chest.  Lesley doesn't hesitate.

One advantage of biting I hadn't noticed till now--your opponent can't hear you scream.  So she doesn't know the agony you're in.

Heather is screaming.  Lesley is not--her mouth is full.

I tell Heather to pull Lesley face down by pulling her hair.  There--see her back?  Bite it!!

Heather and Lesley rise to their knees, completely topless, hands and mouths locked onto their opponent.

I tell Heather to knee Lesley in the crotch.  Lesley's cry of pain causes her to release her grip with her mouth.  She retaliates, encouraged by Vanessa, striking a direct hit on Heather.

Heather and Lesley clinch by mutual fistfulls of hair.  Both need a break, a pause, but ate afraid to show it.  They clinch on the floor.  I need a break as well, but for a different reason.  I need to release in the worst way.  I rub myself hard, and come explosively in waves of orgasm.  But I don't feel release.  Just more arousal.

I encourage Heather to dig deep and resume fighting.  I yell that she hadn't bitten Lesley's tits yet.  Heather does as I instruct her to.  And Lesley returns the favor, now biting into Heather's previously untouched back.

Both women bite, pausing only to take breaths, hands steadily ripping out brunette hair onto the carpet.  Both skirts are sliding off, with only panties remaining.

The sight of pubic hair renews my waves of orgasms.

Vanessa is moaning and writhing in her chair.

Why is this not bringing me release?

Because I need a winner.  It's not about the fight.  It's about one winner, one loser. I being to instruct both girls, not just Heather.

"Someone get on top," I plead.  "Get on top.  Finish her."

Both girls change tactics, using their arms to headlock the other, trying to mount the other.

"Bite her, dammit, Lesley.  Bite!"  Vanessa and I are competing to influence the fighters.

I flash back to the Delaware River.  1989.  Jamie and i competing for the attention of a boy.

"Don't listen, Lesley.  Get her under you."

Did I just say that?  Why am I telling Lesley what to do now.  Did Heather hear me?

"Don't talk to her, Trudy," Vanessa snarls at me.

We both stand.

"She's not YOURS, asshole," I hear myself tell her.

The release I need.  Her.

Vanessa and I grab full fists of each other hair and fall to the floor.

Our mouths find each other.  I feel out bodies tense in unison.  We tear our skirts off and lock onto each other, both slick and soaked.  Waves of simultaneous orgasm was over us.

Heather and Lesley watch us.

The room gets quiet.

To be continued.....