NEW RESPECT FOR HEATHER
As Vanessa and I gently carress each other's bruised bodies, I take in the intoxicating sight of Heather and Lesley's continuing struggle on the floor. Lesley is on top for now, but Heather is cleverly corkscrewing Lesley's body so that Lesley's back is on Heather's chest. By doing this, Lesley can no longer see which parts of Heather's body to target, and Heather is giving herself to slap a headlock onto Lesley's throat. If she completes and tightens the hold, she will be able to reduce Lesley's breathing, and win their war of attrition. Heather will then be free to execute Vanessa's request that she "KICK the living shit" out of Lesley.
Heather. Lovely Heather, who as recently a half hour ago i had written off. But was I too hasty. I compare Heather in 2017 to myself in 1987.
I dated and foolishly married a dud because "it was time". Heather was sent by her parents to a marriage mill, Bucknell, and avoided that fate. Advantage Heather.
I watched a few girlfights but never indulged in any myself. Heather learned by sharpening her elbows in high school and at college, and by watching YouTube fights. Advantage Heather.
I dicked around at junior college and stare schools, accumulating nontransferrable credits and student loans. Heather is a year and a half from a degree. Advantage Heather.
I bounced from job to job and clawed my way up to office manager, running the office while the partners reap the rewards. Heather is looking for internships that will put her on the express elevator to the executive suite. Advantage Heather.
I lost my sexual inhibitions at 40. Heather at 20. Advantage Heather.
I'm a wolf in wolf's clothing. Heather is a woman in woman's clothing. Push.
My mouth betrays me. "Put the choke on, Heather."
But Lesley hears me. I don't know if the gradual corkscrewing was in Heather's mind this whole time, but if it was, I just ruined 10 minutes of struggle. Lesley slides her body down, and while Heather's arms now have a hold on Lesley's face, they are unable to close the hold around Lesley's neck.
"Fuck," I mutter, too quietly for Heather to hear, but loud enough for Vanessa.
Vanessa calmly purrs at me, "Let them fight it out themselves, darlin'. Here, I know how to keep us quiet."
Vanessa's mouth locks onto mine, and we slowly kiss. I expect to be repulsed. But I'm not. I like it.
I let it happen.
I let the girls' fight happen.
I let the experience wash over me.
To be continued....