[sinclairfan]

DEBBIE VS SYDNEY

Any residual sympathy I had felt for Sydney from the night her nose was bloodied by my daughter Kylie went out the window at the thought of the pretentiousness of the high school senior driving to my town, knocking on my door, and challenging me to a fight in my own house.

Sydney's sandy blonde hair was longer and thicker than ever, having apparently still not cut it since the night she fought Kylie.  She appeared prepared physically for a girlfight, and was about to reveal she was psychologically as well, as she layed out groundrules for our imminent battle.

> So, no premature stoppages this time, ok, bitch?  Tomorrow's the Super Bowl, and it got me to thinking.  They get three time outs per half.  How about we each get three time outs, any time in our fight, for any reason.  But once your time outs are used, you have to keep fighting, no matter what?  And we go to the finish.  Agree?

Not wanting to be dictated to by a high schooler in my own house, and wanting to give the appearance of "upping the ante", I stepped up to Sydney, nose to nose, and hissed:

> Fine, honey, except just two time outs each.  And you can't call two in a row.  If you call the first time out, you can't call your second until I've used one.  Which I won't.

> Cocky slut.

> Arrogant whore.

There was no need to dwell on technicalities or legalities.  Sydney and I were on the same page.  A lucky errant kick or elbow, such as Kylie had landed on Sydney 5 weeks ago, would be granted a brief reprieve to clean and repair, but only as a brief mid-fight pause.  We would hastily resume fighting until one of us had clearly established superiority.

We also were eager to begin, with a minimum of preliminaries.  Unlike the virtual body armor which Kylie and Sydney's New Year's biker wear unintentionally provided, Sydney and I were currently in soft blouses and sweatpants--vulnerable from head to toe.  The target-rich environment was irresistable in the tense atmosphere of my living room, and are hands simultaneously invaded each others' personal space and began clawing and tearing at flesh and hair.

Our bodies locked together, my hands locked onto Sydney's shoulder blades in her back through her thin blouse.  My last three fight opponents (Dawn, Karen, and the random barfly) had all been my age.  My fingers immediately detected an important difference in Sydney's younger body--it had a firmness to it that was inviting yet intimidating.  Our upper bodies were rubbing together as we stumbled across the room, but mine seemed to yield to hers at every pressure point.  I felt the need to exert and push back twice as hard at every advance she made towards me.  I searched her eyes, trying to detect if she noticed the relative strength advantage in her younger body.  Or how much softer my body felt against hers than Kylie's had.

No matter how hard I pulled on Sydney's thick, long hair, I was unsuccessful, so far, in removing any from her scalp.  When her mom and I would catfight, handfuls of Dawn's hair would coat my palms and nails.  Thus far, despite trying, I could claim none of Sydney's locks as a prize.

Sydney and I slammed into my living room wall, forcing an involuntary, unfeminine grunt from my lungs.  Sydney asked if I wanted to use my time out now.  I ignored her, but immediately realized that neither of us would be using our first or second time out tonight--the embarrassment would be unbearable. 

This fight was to the finish.  Unlike any of my fights with Dawn, we would keep going.

Good.

To be continued.....

[sinclairfan]

DEBBIE/SYDNEY II

As I continued fighting Sydney, both of us pressing each other into the wall of my living room, I clawed and scratched at her hard body.  I tried to remember the last time I had hugged my daughter Kylie's body--was it as firm and strong as Sydney's. 

When was the last time mine was this hard?  Dawn and I had been wrestling each other in our fights less and less and fist fighting more and more.  Was it because we noticed each others' bodies getting softer....well, not softer.....just, less.....muscular, less firm.  Did Sydney notice me feeling her body, her sides, her back, her shoulders?  Was she feeling mine?

I continue grunting as we fight, and not in a womanly way.  Sydney clutches repeatedly at my solar-plexus, forcing breathy grunting noises out of my throat and lungs.  Is she doing that because she thinks it hurts me?  It doesn't.  Because my sounds turn her on?

Sydney's soft, thin linen top tears and shreds as we fight.  Every rip turns me on, my claws getting more and more direct contact with her flesh.  Sydney's skin is tan and contrasts with my pale mid-winter flesh tone--does she spray tan?  go to a tanning salon?  Do I know if Kylie does either?  How does her skin keep color all winter?

I want to make Sydney grunt like I am.  I drive my knee into Syndney's crotch, but she blocks me with her knees.  Our kneecaps slam together with a sickening crunching sound.  I want to cry from the scratches on my flesh, the wall banging against my skull, Sydney's kneecaps ln mine.

> You damn fucking bitch.

> You sick pathetic slut.

> I'll fucking put you thru this wall.

> Try it, weak old hag.

Old.  Hag.  I see red.  Pure fucking rage.  I claw and rip at Sydney's now almost fully-exposed chest.  I throw upper cuts at her jaw.  Throat punches.  I remember Kylie's girlfriends saying "I'll throat punch the bitch....".  Now I'm actually doing it, admittedly by accident.  Now Sydney is the one grunting. 

And seeing red.  Now Sydney is clutching at me, twisting my exposed breasts.  I clutch at her wrists, desperately trying to get her to let go of me.  I headlock her throat, but am unable to get a firm grip, both of our skin now coated with slick sweat.  I elbow the crown of her skull, injuring my funny bone worse than her head.

Sydney's nails draw blood from my torso.  I recall asking Kylie if having Sydney's blood on her was a turnon, and her affirming that it was.  I wonder if Sydney notices that I'm bleeding, and if her response is the same as Kylie's.  I resent Sydney having enjoyment at my expense.

> Fucking cocky prissy spoiled bitch.

> Fucking dried up has been.

> You really shouldn't have said that.

To be continued....

[sinclairfan]

DEBBIE-SYDNEY III

As I continue in my futility in inflicting any apparent harm or injury on Sydney, all while sustaining gouges and scratches on my entire upper body and face and tufts of torn hair from my scalp, I try to drag my opponent onto the ground.  But Sydney notices my tactic, and manages to stay standing on her two feet.  I step back and line up kicks on Sydney's knees and shins, but again too slow to escape Sydney's notice and defenses.

I understand, suddenly, why Kylie is upset with me for interrupting her fight with Sydney 5 weeks ago.  Kylie had paid a steep price in punches and pulled hair from her younger rival, and just at the moment of achieving an opening, albeit with a lucky, errant, backheel kick to Sydney's nose, I had prevented Kylie from the satisfaction of follow thru, which no doubt would have been severe and satisfying.  I sense already that if either Sydney or I achieve even the slightest temporary advantage on each other, the price extracted will be merciless.

Sydney notices my desire to find alternate tactics, and raises her guard.  With both my daughter and now with me, Sydney has fought at a relentless pace, staying busy on offense with her hands, nails, and elbows.  Now, for the first time, she squares up, fist clutched and ready.  Sydney and I jab deliberately at each others' faces, every swing having injurious intent.  We stare each other in the eye, hate dripping from our expressions.

My fights with Dawn were about the thrill of the fight, a loss not being acceptable, but a win not being necessary.

This fight is different.  We're in it to win.

Although her top is torn, she's ahead of me--mine is down to two shreds.  Her hair is straight; mine is a Brillo pad.  Have I really managed to barely touch her this entire fight?

Or does she just love fighting so much that it energizes her.

> Come and get some, dried up hag.

> I'm right here.

> Come closer.

To be continued....

[sinclairfan]

DEBBIE-SYDNEY IV

I succeed in wrestling Sydney down to the floor.  Whether it is because I've actually scored a judo-style throw, or because Sydney is open to testing her skills with me on the ground, I do not know for certain.  Our fight slows, our topless bodies tangled in a heap on my living room carpet.

Sydney is a natural fighter, and I regain respect for my daughter Kylie being unable to put Sydney away in the allotted minutes of their New Year's Day fight.  Sydney has inherited strong fight genes from her mother Dawn, and has also had actual fight experiences.  The latter I already knew, based on Sydney knocking on my door and challenging me to fight, apparently without Dawn's knowledge.  I can't picture my 1987 18-year old self doing that to a grown woman in her 40s.

As our fight of the floor progresses, Sydney is wounding me more than I'm wounding her, and her youthful endurance advantage is manifesting itself via breathing which is less labored than mine.

I take a calculated gamble.  Sydney is experienced in fighting.  But is she experienced in fucking?  How will she respond to sexual advances by me?  The 1987 version of me would have been at best distracted, at worst frightened.  But Sydney is a different generation.  Does anything faze her generation?  I decide to find out.

Sydney's face is close to mine, our heads locked in each others' arms.  Sydney's neck is in reach of my mouth.  I cover her neck and left shoulder with passionate kisses, first without tongue, then with.  Our legs entwine, our inner thighs lining up and finding each other, rubbing rhymically.

Sydney has had ample opportunity to protest, but hasn't.  She hasn't reciprocated either.  Is she seeing where my advances go?  Is she toying with me?

If Sydney is mocking me, I'll be even angrier at her than I am already.  We twist into a north-south position, my mouth on her firm breasts, hers on mine, now mutually kissing.

I attempt to be the aggressor, to have the more passionate kisses.  Me coming on to Sydney is one thing, us making love to one another as equals is quite another.  I'm willing to resort to the former as a tactic to win a fight, I'm unwilling to do the latter, not with Sydney, under any circumstances.  I'm not Sydney's equal.  I will not accept that.

> I'm better than you, you arrogant cocky jackass.

> I don't see it, has-been bitch.

We stare and hesitate.  Will we resume fighting, or fucking?

I realize I'm horny as fuck.

I resume sucking on Syndey's breasts.

After 3 minutes in that position, we mutually rise to our knees.  We face each other, rub our breasts together, and kiss on the mouth.  I'm leading, Sydney is following.  We are both breathing like lovers in bed.

We tongue kiss for 5 minutes, our arousal elevating.

> Ever make love to a woman, punk?

> Nope.  And I won't today?

> Looks to me like you're doing it now.

> Just letting you embarrass yourself, old witch.

I realize Sydney is turned on, but by her controlling my actions, not by my foreplay.

> You're good.  But not as good as you think you are.

> I take it our kissing interlude is over?

I answer Sydney's question with a right cross to her mouth.

She reciprocates in kind, the bones inside my faces crunching sickeningly.  Sexual arousal flees my body, replaced by anger.

The final round of our fight has begun.

To be continued.....

[catlover123456]

hey the story is hottt but same age fight is hottest...plz make two dauggters aggresive death fightttt and sex fight....and mothers alspo....plzzzzz

[sidekick]

Pay no attention to that.  The younger woman and older woman fighting is very, very hot indeed. 

[sinclairfan]

DEBBIE-SYDNEY FIN

My earlier attempt at kissing Sydney, in an attempt to scandalize her (and then to win the fight) had fallen flat--she had, without flinching, simply kissed me right back.  But rather than admit defeat, I decide to gamble that a straightforward mouth kiss had been the right idea, just not bold enough.  I decide to verbally warn my newfound enemy by hissing in her face, "Fine, bitch, you've kissed a girl and liked it.  But have you ever 69'd a woman?".  Sydney's non-response speaks volumes, as I remove my pants and reveal my naked lowerbody.

The sight of my own bush has an effect on both of us.  Sydney fails to rise to my implied challenge.  She keeps her own pants on, afraid to expose her privates to an attack by my hands or visual inspection by my eyes.  But the effect on me is even stronger.  Every part of my body, until now, has felt inferior to the high school senior's:  Sydney's spectacular auburn mane of hair, her flawless face, her taut skin--impervious to my vicious scratching, her hard breasts, her slashing hands.  But even Sydney concedes, through her silence and her body language, that my 46 year old pussy is still at its sexual peak, an object of attraction and desire.  I remember Kylie's college-age guy friends climbing in my bed the past two years, hesitatingly and awkwardly tongue kissing me, holding back until our hookups got to 3rd base, but progressing urgently and hurriedly once they got a look or feel under my waistline.  I remember, from the time of our married bedroom life right up to our recent post-divorce fucking, my ex-husband David stopping to contemplate the view of his Viagra'd-up cock sliding in and out of my bush.  And finally, if randomly, I remember a "History of the Enlightenment" course at Fitchburg State, an assigned reading by Benjamin Franklin giving sex advice to young men of the 1780s, directed them to focus their amorous energies and advances to women of advanced years, if necessary putting a bag over their time- and gravity-ravaged faces as, below the waist, they will find delights beyond measure.  I feel the truth of those words--the combination of skill confidence that come only with age and experience--flow thru my 2015 veins, as I proceed to pursue the inevitable endgame of my fight with Sydney.

Sydney and I tangle on the floor, her half-nakedness and my full-body nudity giving the battle its second wind.  Our flesh resonates to the sound of fists connecting directly on vulnerable spots, only to counterpunch twice as hard in retaliation.  But our hand-action is a sideshow to the actual decisive action, as it was in Sydney's war with Kylie a month ago, which is the desperate scrambling occuring with our legs.  In that battle, let's call it World War One, a heel kick from my daughter had scored a direct hit on Dawn's daughter's nose and drawn a deluge of blood which ultimately interrupted the struggle.  In today's feature, let's call it World War Two, we tangle ourselves, partly intentionally and partly inevitably, into a north-south 69 position. 

An inevitability which I have been seeking and which, more importantly, Sydney has been dreading.  My women's intuition is spot-on:  Sydney has experience with catfighting, but none with pussy in her face.  I grind my lower body hard into Sydney's mouth, her face retreating in disgust at the sensation of my hair on her lips and in her teeth.  She attempts to reciprocate, but now understands her tactical error in not removing her pants earlier, as all she can present to my face is fabric.  I compound the humiliation, and her fear, by raking her sensitive inner thighs with my nails.  Deeply and repeatedly.  Sydney begins crying.

Although not part of my original plan, a final feature of my 46 year old anatomy rises to the surface:  my weak bladder.  Droplets of pee evacuate my body and stream onto Sydney's horrified face.  And with that, Sydney's ability to fight back abandons her.

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

Her mother, Dawn, must have heard about the pee.  Less than 24 hours, she was on the phone with me.

"Bring that primadonna college dropout daughter of yours down here to Connecticut next Saturday--Sydney and I have the week off school for President's Day.  You and her and Sydney and I are going to settle this once and for all."

I guess we'll call this one Wotld War Three.

I remember another Fitchburg State history reading:  "I do not know what weapons World War Three will be fought with.  But I do know what weapons World War Four will be fought with:  sticks and stones."

To be continued.....

[sinclairfan]

A CONVERSATION WITH KYLIE

On the Tuesday after my fight with Sydney, and 5 days before the upcoming 2 vs 2 two war involving us and Kylie and Dawn, I knew I needed to break the news to Kylie that Sydney and I had fought.  I knew Kylie would be upset, but I needed her to contain her anger until the upcoming weekend. 

I asked Kylie to come to my place, but to promise not to flip out at what I had to tell her.  Or at what she would see.

She knocked on my door shortly after.  Her eyes widened immediately on seeing my countless bruises, welts, and scratches on my face, neck, shoulders and arms?

> Mom?!?!?  What the fuck?  Who did th....?

> No, no, Kylie.  Don't be upset.  I won the fight.

> Still.  Who was it Mom?  I know it wasn't Karen--I just saw her this morning, and she's chipper as ever.

> Ok, Kylie, promise me you won't flip out.  You....we....will get our revenge Saturday.

> So....it was Dawn?!?

> Close.  It was Sydney.

> Mom?  What. The Fuck.  That bitch Sydney is mine.  How could you?

> Kylie.....I know.....Kylie, she came looking for me.  Kylie, I know now how you're so upset that I interfered in your first fight with her.  I promise....no interference next time....on Saturday.....and Kylie, promise me, DO NOT contact Sydney before then....the four of us are going to fight Saturday....don't ruin this....

> That BITCH....Mom, you can't believe what I'm going to do to her....but, you and Dawn....hold Dawn off so I can have my way with her....

> I was going to ask the same of you....to hold off Sydney long enough for me to deal with Dawn.....

> Mom....a 2 on 2 fight....if one of us....if something happens to one of us.....it's not fair....I can see those 2 bitches ganging up on us, even though.....if something happens to one of them.....we would just watch, wouldn't we?

> I don't know.....I'm so upset with Sydney right now.....I might join in with you working her over.....that is, if you'd let me.....

> You said.....you said you won your fight with her.....how....how long did it take?

> Oh, Kylie.....it was long....the longest fight I've ever been in.....and....well....she was winning for most of the fight.....she probably underestimated me.....thinking I was old, or whatever.....Kylie, neither of them will underestimate us this next fight.....Kylie, I made such a horrible mistake interrupting your fight with Sydney.....I should have let you....establish your dominance over her....no matter how bad she was bleeding.....I'm so sorry.

> It's ok Mom.  If Sydney's too dumb to see the favor you did her, she deserves everything that's about to happen.  And I don't just mean the fight that's going to happen.

> What do you mean, hun?

> I mean....Mom.....do you know Dawn's husband?  Sydney's dad? 

> Dawn has never introduced him to me, no.  Why?

> Because.....Mom....I want you.....and me.....to "claim" him from Sydney and Dawn.  I want to offer him a threesome.....him.....you....and me.

> Kylie....I don't know.....that's a little provocative, don't you think?

> Mom.  That's exactly the idea.

> I like it.  Scratch that.  I love it.

> Good.  Today's Tuesday.  Let's drive to Connecticut tomorrow, and....seduce him....Thursday.

> Good thinking, Kylie.  Do you know....ahem....is your father free tonight?

> He's overseas for work.

> Shit.

> But my friend Doug....you're into him, right.

> <<<<<Blushing>>>> Lil bit.

> Let me text him.  I'll tell him you were asking about him.

> Or....

> Or.....ok, I'll tell him it's a 9-1-1.

> It is, Kylie.

> Undrrstood.

Kylie came thru for me.  Doug and I banged all Tuesday night.  And Kylie joined us.  My first threesome since Fitchburg State.

The perfect tuneup for the Threesome Thurday.

And the 2on2 war on Saturday.

To be continued.....

[catlover123456]

awsum story....awsum series...but why so late and so short:(...plzz plzz make it large and give early...this series is awsummmm more than awsum

[sinclairfan]

CONFESSION TIME

Yes, it's true.

Your eyes have not deceived you.

On back to back nights in 2015, once with Kylie's friend Doug and then once with Dawn's husband, I was in a threesome.  With Kylie.

The first night, with Doug, there wasn't much awkwardness.  Kylie and I couldn't really see each other, and the few times we touched were accidental and quick.  I could hear the sounds my daughter was making, but it occurred to me that in our past three years of "partying together" ever since Kylie started preferring my house to her dad's and Karen's, we had numerous times been in the same house when one or the both of us were in the throes of exstacy.  We were used to the sound of each others' lovemaking. 

But night two with Dawn's husband was another matter altogether.  He was a surpringly poor.. ....ahem.. .performer.. ..for a man in his late 40s.  He came very quickly after climbing into the no-tell motel bed with Kylie and me, but the still wanted more.  So he insisted on watching me, which I was fine with; then watching Kylie, which I was fine with.  But the he wanted to watch Kylie and me "do each other".  Massaging at first, which Kylie dove right into, rubbing my shoulders and back and buttocks.  Then Dawn's slimy husband told Kylie and me to kiss, which caused my heart to stop short, realizing that Kylie and I had failed to communicate how to deflect such a request.  But, to my surprise, without missing a beat, Kylie closed her eyes and began enthusiastically kissing my shoulders and belly, gingerly avoiding my "bathing suit areas".  I worried what would happen if Dawn's husband noticed Kylie's over-acting, but he was either too drunk to notice or too grateful for the show.  Or maybe just clueless about women--was Dawn really that terrible in bed?  Is that why her first kisses with me in 2011 weren't on the mouth?

So I exchanged chaste kisses with my own daughter.  Kylie was acting.

But after thr first 10 minutes or so, I wasn't.  Despite myself, I loved the feel of Kylie's lips and tongue on my skin.  I bent my torso towards her face to get maximum contact with her mouth.  I ran my fingers through her long, straight hair.  I wasn't acting anymore, and I was hoping Kylie would enjoy it as much as I was.

Don't get my wrong--I'm happy now Kylie didn't get aroused.

But I got aroused, and I came.

And Kylie and I have never discussed it.  I doubt we ever will.

Instead, we discussed our upcoming war with Dawn and Sydney.  And Kylie's plan to taunt Sydney that she had slept with Sydney's dad.

To be continued...

[sinclairfan]

2 ON 2 FIGHT NIGHT

I don't know if it was to avoid discussing what had happened between us during our two threesomes, but Kylie and I spent all day Thursday, all day Friday, and the morning of our scheduled Saturday fight with Dawn and Sydney planning our strategy for our 2 versus 2 war.  By Friday, we could not contsin our gloating, and had already let our rivals know thst we had seduced their husband and dad into bed.  I baited Dawn by letting her know how lame her husband was in the sack, with Dawn responding in kind with pent-up taunts of my divorce and decades-plus failure to remarry--she hsd clearly been saving up those insults for years, and I admit that they hurt me.  A divorce is a scab that never fully heals.  I warned her I would hurt her Saturday for bringing up my divorce.

Kylie and Sydney were texting taunts and threats to each other about Sydney's dad.  Sydney vowed to destroy Kylie's womanhood for using them to seduce Sydney's dad and likely breaking up her home and jeopardizing her college education.  Sydney taunted Kylie and me for dropping out of college before finishing, while Dawn had both a bachelors and masters in Education and was using them in a career.  I know Sydney's insults stung and hurt Kylie, who still had no clear pland of what to do with her life.  I was glad I had beaten Sydney when she came to my house to hurt me, and wanted Kylie to experience the same satisfaction.

Kylie and I were staying at an Inn in Essex, Connecticut, waiting to hear from Dawn the exact location of our Satuday night fight.  I was alert for dirty tricks being played by Dawn and Sydney--there was a fire alarm at the Inn Friday night just before midnight which I suspect Dawn of being responsible for, even though I had not told Dawn we were staying there. 

When we got the all-clear to return to our rooms, I couldn't fall asleep, and wanted to masturbate.  But Kylie was in the twin bed next to me.  I was afraid of what would happen if I aroused myself with Kylie in the room--if I would go over into her bed, or if she would join me in mine.  Being in a threesome with my daughter was one thing, but being alone in a bed with her was another thing quite entirely.  It was a line I couldn't allow myself to cross, no matter how much my hormones and my loneliness wanted to.

Loneliness.  Lying in bed that night, I felt more lonely than I ever had.  Or, maybe I had always felt lonely....at Fitchburg State, maybe I had meaningless sex to cover it up.  ....at my house, maybe I let Kylie and her college friends party, and then joined in with them to cover it up.    .....when I hooked up with my ex-husband David, and let him have his way with me without any commitment in return from him, maybe I was trying to block out my loneliness.    .....when I taunted and fought his new bride Karen, maybe I was taking out my loneliness on her.    ....when I had every-four-year fringe fights with Dawn, when she kissed me but not on the mouth, even though I wanted her to kiss me there, maybe I was lonely and she wasn't.  What if I needed our fringe fights more than she did?  What if I was escalating our fights, involving our daughters, baiting them, as a way to keep going a relationship with her that had otherwise run its course?  And that I had nothing to fall back on?  And I knew that she did?

What if my horrible mothering had caused, or even enabled, Kylie dropping out of college?  Was Sydney right?  Was Kylie a deadbeat and a loser?

I woke up Saturday at noon in beast mode.  I was horny and needed sex, but had none available.  I was confronting middle age, loneliness, no real friendships.

I had been a terrible wife, and David had no respect for me as an ex-wife, using me for sex.  I was failing at motherhood.  I was a terrible co-mother with Karen.  I was a terrible friend to Dawn, the only real friend I had ever had.

Dawn called to give me the address for our fight.  It was a summer house on Long Island Sound with no heat--it was winterized every fall with antifreeze in the pipes.  She said she and Sydney were going to beat up Kylie and me so badly that it would take until Monday at the earliest for us to come to and be able to leave.  I sensed the hate in her voice, and the desire to protect her daughter. 

Would I end up regretting what I had started?

I didn't want Kylie to turn 46 and become what I was becoming, a down-and-out has-been facing bleak, uncertain golden years.  I wanted to have all things I missed out on.  An enduring marriage.  A strong education and career.

And I wanted Sydney to miss out on all of them.  I wanted Kylie to take them from her.  And for Dawn to watch Sydney lose them.

I wanted that to happen tonight.

To be continued.....

[sinclairfan]

GETTING DRESSED FOR A CATFIGHT

Kylie and I are in the Essex house Dawn has arranged for us to have a 2vs2 catfight.  There is electricity but no heat, since the small summer house has a seasonal hot water heater but no furnace.  Because it's 35 degrees outside, the inside of the house is chilly and drafty.  The ceilings are low, 6-and-a-half feet tops, the floorplan of the house left over from the 1810s, when people were shorter than they are now.

Kylie and I take refuge and shut the door behind us inside the steamy bathroom were Kylie has just showered with barely any water pressure and iron-laced New England "hard water", which barely rinses off your hair and skin.  She asks for my help in drying her long, thick hair, which hasn't been cut in months.  For my whole life, if I let my hair grow out like hers is, it would get stringy and fine.  But Kylie's hair is getting thicker and more full-bodied the longer she grows it.  I'm happy she has inherited her hair gene from her father David, whose thick dark hair is still going strong at age 46.

I think of her hair our 2 nights in bed together earlier this week during our threesomes, how she instinctively tossed it when she gave head to her friend from school and then Dawn's husband.  I think back to 1987 when Dawn and I were Kylie's age, how replused we were when we had to give oral.  We would grit our teeth and pretend to like it, but we hated every second of it, and the boys we were with could usually tell.  Even when I went to Fitchburg State and had my slut phase, it was straight intercourse I was indulging in, almost never oral.  By contrast, Kylie is a natural at it, and has no inhibitions.  And all of her girlfriends, when telling sex stories, just casually allude to endless episodes of "sucking off" guys, and not just as foreplay.  I always want to ssk them how they learned so young.

Drying Kylie's hair in our improvised sauna, I get horny in anticipation of watching Kylie and Sydney fight.  I want to hold Dawn's hair in my claws and be body-to-body with my best friend.  I hope sleeping with her husband wasn't too much of a provocation.  I hope she and I can fringe fight and get a good view of the main event--Kylie and Sydney tearing into each other.  The college dropout versus the soon-to-be freshman coed. 

Kylie is slipping into her fight outfit, a one-piece, low-cut, long-legged spandex outfit the highlights her long legs and tight ass.  When Kylie tried it on at the store earlier last week, she saw the 2 female store clerks ogling her butt, and she knew she had to buy it and wear it to a fight with Sydney.  I can't wait for later tonight, Sydney and Kylie staring each other down, their aroused asses bulging against their tight clothes, like wild animals about to fight over territory, their grudge more real than ever now that Kylie has wrecked Sydney's home.  And Sydney having no recourse, since Kylie's dad is already divorced, but to fight Kylie.

And Dawn and I awaiting anxiously on the sidelines, on the fringe, dreading the outcome, knowing that whichever mom's daughter loses the Kylie-Sydney fight will be at the mercy, 1 versus 2, of the victorious daughter and her mother.  If Kylie loses, Sydney and Dawn will tear into me.  I can handle either, barely, 1 on 1--what possible chance do I have against them together.  But if Kylie beats Sydney, she and I will be free to finally take Dawn down from her perch.

So Dawn and I will be rolling around on the ground on the sideline, saving our strength for the 2on1 "airing of grievances", to borrow a 1990s phrase.  We'll be fringe fighting, for the first time since our 1987 run-in at the Rita-Laurie donnybrook.

Unless--what if Kylie right now is thinking the same thing I'm thinking?  What if she and Sydney are here too see a Debbie-Dawn MILF fight.  There's nothing better, after all, than when two lifelong MILF friends have a falling out, and then fight.  A quarter century of pent-up slights, jealousy, rivalry, sexual rejection.  Dawn's awkward, clumsy advances on me hurt me more even than watching David get happily remarried to, and financially support, Karen.  The only recourse to that hurt was a vicious catfight between Karen and me.  Dawn and I still haven't "settled" our confusing, chaste kissing episode.  Are Kylie and Sydney aware of our building grudge, and are they here to fringe fight at our MILF brawl?  Is that why Kylie has chosen an outfit whuch allows her to preen her ass, but sppears to be totally impractical to fight in?

Is Kylie setting me up, or am I setting her up?  Or both?

Kylie and I don't speak as I prepare her hair and outfit in the steamy bathroom.  If she and I don't trust each other, we'll receive the beating of a lifetime at the hands of the Dawn-Sydney team.

In 1987, Dawn was on the winning team in the 4on4 Rita-Laurie fight.  Does she think that win reflects on her?  That it makes her better than me?  I could have pushed Laurie off of Rita at any time, but I let the 2 of them finish.  Is that why I never finished college and never had a career?  Is that why I got divorced?  Is that why my daughter is repeating the pattern?

I wish I could share these feelings with Dawn, but there's no cellphone bars.

So Kylie and I get ready in silence.

I'm so horny, I feel like I could cum just standing here.

To be continued....

[sinclairfan]

TWO VERSUS TWO

When Sydney and Dawn arrived at the unheated summer house in Essex, there was no taliking.  Sydney went straight for Kylie's throat, and Dawn held Kylie from behind while Sydney slapped Kylie in the face.  In an attempt to defend my daughter, I grabbed Dawn from behind, expecting my rival to turn and face me.  Instead, she fell to the ground in my grasp, and directed my hands to her rock-hard breasts, encouraging me to massage and carress them.  I fell onto my butt, and spooned her, enjoying the feel of her breasts in my hands, the feel of her butt on my pussy.  I kissed her back and her shoulders, wanting her to return my kisses on my lips, but being denied.  So I instead whispered in her ears, as we watched a vicious Sydney-Kylie fistfight unfold before our unbelieving eyes.

> Who does this fight remind you of, bitch?

> You already know, slut.

> Say it, cxnt.

> Rita and Laurie.  28 years ago.

> Isn't is devine?

> They look like they'll kill each other.

> Is that a bad thing?

> Not if I can watch.

> Your left breast is the same as it was that day.

> When it popped out?

> Thank you for not letting the other girld see it.

> Thank you for letting me see it.

> I didn't 'let' you, bitch.

> Just let you're not letting me kiss you now?

> I'm not attracted to you, bitch.

> Fuck you, you're hard as two coconuts.

> It's from watching the fight, honey.

> Fuck you, I don't believe it.  Admit you want me.

> I don't.

My pussy grinds into Dawn's butt.  I'm more hurt and rejected than I've ever been, but the sounds and sights of the college girl bitchfight in progress win out.  I tighten my grip on Dawn and masturbate myself into her to climax.

I maintain my needful grip on her.

Kylie and Sydney fall in front on Dawn in a heap, Kylie on top.

Kylie faces Dawn.  They tongue kiss like deranged animals, Kylie sucking on Dawn's tongue as she--Kylie--rides Sydney's face.

I see red.

Dawn won't tongue kiss me after all these years.

My daughter won't kiss my mouth or even my face in threesomes.

Sydney fights me after I interrupt a fight she was about to lose.  She hasn't acknowledged my existence tonight.

I'm hurt.

I'm 46.  I'm divorced.  I have no career.  My dsughter is a college drop out.

My "best friend" is making out with my daughter.

I think back to the Laurie-Rita fight in 1987.  I was on Rita's "team".  Rita lost the fight.  I paid the price.  Dis-invited from summer at the Cape.  Misfit at college in North Adams.  College slut at Fitchburg.  A good marriage, with EMC stock options, falls into my lap, which I then throw away.  Borderline abusive rebound sex with my ex.  Slut mom sex with my daughter's classsmates.  Noncommunicative relationship with my daughter. 

And Dawn.  Pillar of the community, my ass.  If her School Board knew the things she does with me.  Using me for sex all these years, but never offering me anything. 

Claiming she's not attracted to me.

What if she's lying?

What if she's telling the truth.

My daughter alternates between punching Sydney in face and kissing Dawn.

What is it with Dawn and Sydney?  Why does Dawn not ever want to protect her daughter?

David uses me.

Dawn uses me.

Kylie uses me.

> Kylie?  Sydney?

> Yes, Mom?

> How'd you two like to watch a MILF fight?

> Now or never.

Dawn and I square up.

To be continued.....

[sinclairfan]

THREE VERSUS ONE

"Kick her ass, Mom.  It's easy," Sydney tells Dawn.

"Fuck you, Sydney," I retort, hurt quivering in my voice.  "I beat you, remember?"  I leave unsaid that she hasn't spoken to me all night until now. 

I had come to the house tonight fearful of what would happen when the first fighter became incapacitated, and the first mom/daughter team had a two-to-one advantage on their enemy.  But now something even worse is happening--the vibe in the room is sliding to a three-versus-one dynamic. 

Sydney, to whose rescue I came weeks ago when Kylie clipped her nose and got it bleeding profusely, is encouraging Dawn to beat me up.  I feel the sting of rejection from her.

Dawn, who shunned me moments ago as we fringe fought, refusing to reciprocate my kisses.  I feel the sting of rejection from her.

My own daughter Kylie, in bed with me three nights ago with Dawn's husband and Sydney's dad, asked to kiss me, and instead putting on theatrics.  I feel the sting of rejection from her.

I think back to Fitchburg State, when I started letting men hook up with me without buying dinner for me before or calling me afterwards.  I know "hookup culture" became common in colleges shortly thereafter, but when I was at Fitchburg around 1990, it actually wasn't common at all, especially outside of fraternity row.  Girls still made boys work for it to get into our pants--and the one's who didn't, like me eventually, stood out as the exception and got a reputation which was a part-exotic/part-CosmoGirl/part-sophisticated-mature, but not entirely flattering. 

I think back to the "History of the Enlightenment" course, the one with Ben Franklin in full-on Dirty Old Man mode giving sex advice.  I remember a pretty, blonde freshman girl on the same floor in my dorm who happened to be in the same course.  I remember her bringing the text into my dorm room, sitting at the edge of my bed, asking if I wanted to study.  Bringing study material into someone's dorm room snd sitting at the edge of their bed was how you initiated a backrub/make-out session in 1990 College America.  Interesting, I thought, a "that time in college" girl-on-girl episode is about to happen.  But instead, when I touched her shoulders to start the backrub, she told me that her hometown boyfriend from Quincy would be in town this coming weekend, and did I want to have a threesome with them.

I felt so dirty.  Is that how my dormmates saw me?  As the resident slut you ask for a threesome?  Had my reputation slid so low that girls weren't threatened by bringing me to bed with their boyfriends?  That the boyfriends would so thoroughly disrespect me that the chemistry of their relationship would be impervious to my presence?  Was I not to be taken seriously as a candidate for being someone's actual girlfriend?

I felt so hurt and so low that night in Fitchburg.

I feel so low and so hurt tonight in Essex.

Does Dawn disrespect me as a fighter from our many years of fringe fighting?

Is that why Sydney felt comfortable knocking on my door and challenging me a couple weeks ago?

Has my partying and fighting with my daughter led to this?  Has Dawn handled it better, not helping Sydney when Sydney was in jeopardy against Kylie in that first fight between them?  Has that distance between them been sufficient to establish who's the mom and who's the daughter?

When I fought Kylie's stepmom Karen in front of Kylie, was that a mistake?  Should I have asked Kylie to leave Karen and I alone, then leave it to her imagination what had happened between us when I kicked Karen's ass?

I get inspiration what I need to do right now.

"Sydney, Kylie.  Could you please leave Dawn and I alone for a minute?  We need to settle something that's been brewing for 28 years."

"Awwww, but I wanna watch," Sydney faux-whines.

"Don't worry, babes," says Dawn.  "I'll let you be the first to see this bitch after I finish with her."

Sydney and Kylie leave the room.

"Just you and me now, Debbie.  What's up?"

To be continued......

[sinclairfan]

CATCHING UP

My sixth sense--or, actually, maybe it was my woman's intuition--....well, whichever it was....told me that Dawn and I weren't about to start brawling as soon as she closed the door behind us.  I was ready and willing to do so, but that's not where Dawn's head was at just then.  Just as I was feeling hurt and offended at not being kissed on the mouth by anyone, Dawn too had something she needed to get off her (bare) chest.  She spoke first, the two of us standing feet apart, hushing our voices so they cannot be heard by our daughters just outside the room.

> Deb, so....here's what I don't...GET....about you.  When you and Sydney had your... ..ALONE.. ..time last weekend, did you not.....were you not the least bit curious what she's doing after graduation??  Deb, she's a high school senior.

> <<<<My face flushes.  Is it with guilt?  Is this what guilt feels like?>>>> Dawn, I.......I guess I didn't feel like it was my place.....I also feel defensive.  I've been feeling down in the dumps lately that you surpassed me in educational achievement, and that Sydney is about to surpass Kylie.  She is, right?  She's about to attend college in the fall, right?  Except, one that's right for her?  <<<<Unlike the poor choices I made, and then Kylie made.>>>>>

> Deb, Sydney got into Boston College last fall.  Early Action, they call it--you apply early to avoid the rush.....but also the anxiety of the acceptance letters in April.  Did you know, you can apparently tell if your letter is an acceptance letter or a rejection letter just by its weight?  Anyways.....she got accepted last fall.  We thought we were all set. 

> Then what happened?

> Then Boston College rescinded the offer.  They were searching her social media accounts.  Even her private ones--they can do that.  We signed a consent form--she did, her dad did, I did.  It was in the fine print. 

> Those assholes.

> No shit.  And now it's too late to apply to any other school.  Well, any school worth going to.  We missed the deadlines.  Early Action, my ass.

> Dawn, I feel so bad......sleeping with your husband when the three of you had that hanging over your heads......I had no idea.....

> Deb, you had no idea because you never asked.  You didn't ask me, you didn't ask Sydney.....

> <<<<Speaking rapidly in run-on sentences>>>> Dawn, I admit I obviously didn't ask but you and I hadn't been speaking lately and you made me feel guilty about prying when I interfered in Sydney and Kylie's first fight and it seemed like you didn't care about her....and I told you I've been feeling so upset lately about Kylie dropping out of school and not doing anyyhing with her life and wondering if it's because I've been partying too much with her <<<<shit, I suddenly remember that Kylie and Sydney are still in the house....can they hear us?  are they listening to us?  what the fuck ARE they doing??......I step closer to Dawn and drop my voice.....her hair and skin smell so good>>>>... Dawn, I'm so sorry....  ...I'm doing it again ...  so wrapped up in myself and my problems....  Dawn, what did they find on Sydney's social media?  that made them rescind the offer?

> <<<<<Dawn is suppressing tears.>>> Deb..... They saw her ... like... having Twitter fights and Instagram fights with other girls.....

> Like.... virtual?  real?

> Both..... arguing.... namecalling ....  threats ...  setting up real life meetings .... talking about real life meetings that had already happened .     like, not many, a lot of these girls were in states Sydney's never been in ....  but there were enough details .... like actual dates and places ...  about a couple actual fights that had happened ....  that we ....  that Sydney ....   couldn't shrug it off as, I don't know ....  as acting.  You know, she wasn't just in-character when she was online.  She was actually acting out and looking for actual fights. 

> So, Dawn, what are you.... and her .... going to do now?

> Deb, you can't believe what bullshit the whole system is.  And I probably made it worse.  I was just yelling at the Admissions officer...  or whoever it was they had me talk to ...  and I was like .... even if she scrubs all her accounts, this is going to follow her, isn't it?  You're going to blackbsll her everywhere she goes, aren't you?  What's she supposed to do?  Commit sui......?

That word is such a horrible word, I can't let Dawn say it out loud.  I've already let my friend down enough, been oblivious to the drama her family has been going thru. 

I lift my finger and cover Dawn's lips before she can speak aloud her darkest fears for her daughter's future.  I comfort her with a hug, our naked torsos pressing together.  Dawn sucks on my finger--I revel in the sensation, her tongue licking my sensitive fingertip.  I still crave a kiss on the mouth, and she finally offers me one.  My whole body is aroused, turned on by the emotional connection finally made with my best friend in the world.  My friend for 28 years.

Things in the house are quiet.  Too quiet.

> What are Sydney and Kylie doing?

Our women's intuition tells us the answer before we see it with our own eyes.

We open the door to the room we're in, and walk....then run.... to the upstairs attic-slash-bedroom.

Sydney and Kylie are on the floor, wrapped in a catball, shredded hair laying on the floor in clumps, blood smearing the white crown molding they are pressed against.  They are breathing heavily, having been clearly fighting for several minutes.

> Do we break them up?

> No, let them finish.

> I agree.

To be continued.......