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SCUFFLES, STRUGGLES AND SEX ON THE STRAND

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Offline peccavi

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SCUFFLES, STRUGGLES AND SEX ON THE STRAND
« on: August 16, 2019, 08:14:09 AM »
 
Mellissa Windeyer's Wanton Misadventures
chapter 11
Scuffles, Struggles and Sex on the Strand
 
PART ONE – SCUFFLES ON THE SAND

“Welcome back, you two!” Edward smiled, sitting up as Henry squatted on the sand.  Britney stepped off his shoulders – she’d climbed up on them while they were in the water – and sat down.
 
I leaned over, kissed her and whispered, “You looked so hot together!  Your boobs bobbing about, water glistening on your body as Henry carried you! Everyone was looking at you!” That was no more than the truth. They looked great together, Henry holding her legs firmly against his chest, Britney holding his head and bending down every so often to whisper something to him.
 
“Well, what are you waiting for?” Britney whispered back. “Take your top off too!”
 
I shook my head.  I'd been resisting the temptation ever since we arrived at the beach. Of course, Britney hadn't. Henry and Edward had us both lie down and they rubbed suntan oil on us. Britney had laughingly refused when Henry asked her to remove her bikini top, but she’d let him undo it when he rolled her on her tummy so – he said- he could put the oil on her back.
 
I'd firmly told Edward “No!” when he tried to do the same. I'd pushed his hands away when he tried again a few moments later. Ms Melissa Windeyer doesn't do slutty.
 
I’d been in two minds when Edward suggested the beach outing. Not only because I didn’t want to have to listen to Britney regale me with descriptions of the outfits and trinkets Henry had bought her after their night together, but also because early April was usually just too cold for the beach. Sixty degrees was more suitable for weekends in the forests, horse riding and wood fires at night. But I’d been pleasantly surprised.  Britney managed to stick to other topics of conversation, and Chicago turned on one of its scorchers – Sunday was well into the eighties.
 
“Melissa, you have to play along with Henry and Edward!”  Britney’s whisper was almost a hiss. “Get with the program, girl!  You don’t think they just happened to choose one of the only beaches that allow topless girls…do you?” She giggled.  “I thought you were smart.”

I shook my head. “You can, if you want to.”

“Mel!  Don't be a spoilsport! You just said how hot I look!” She pushed her shoulders back, thrusting out her own big, round breasts.  “Imagine the two of us, walking along the beach. We wouldn’t be hot…we'd be scorching! All these guys,” she waved her hand at the beach in general, “would cream themselves!” She giggled again, groped my butt and kissed me. “And their girlfriends…well, they'd just hate us!”

Her hands slipped up my back. I felt her grip the ties on my bikini top, but to the boys it would have looked just like another grope.

“No, Britney!” I protested again.

“Mel, you'd look so good topless! Your boobs are so lovely…full and ripe.”  Her left hand squeezed my right breast. “So sexy!” Her right fiddled with the knot behind my back.

“No! No, Britney!”

“Why not?  You want to show them off!  Like you said to me once…if you’ve got it, flaunt it!”
 
The trouble was, Britney was more than half right.  I did want to go topless. She and I together would be so steaming hot, the sand would catch fire. But Melissa Windeyer doesn’t do slutty.
 
“I want you topless! And so do Henry and Edward! Go on Melissa!  Admit it! You want to!”  She thrust her boobs into mine.  I pushed her hands away again. I had to focus on icebergs.

I was glad when Edward interrupted us. “Hey, you two! Stop teasing us! It’s not fair.  Here…have another glass.” He refilled our champagne flutes.
 
I slid away from Britney and picked up my glass.

Henry raised his head from the sand.  “So what were you girls doing…besides making out, that is?”

Britney finished her glass quickly and rolled over. Putting each hand on the sand, one on either side of Henry, she pushed herself up so she straddled him, her breasts an irresistible target as they jiggled just above his mouth. Henry pushed his head up again and sucked each nipple in turn. Britney gasped, and smiled down at him. She flung her long blonde hair wide, still wet from her swim, as she tossed her head. Then she lowered her face and kissed Henry's forehead, pushing him gently back onto the sand. She kissed him. I saw her tongue stab into his mouth. His hands cupped her breasts, squeezing them softly, then slid along her body.

I shivered.  Britney was so hot. My tummy fluttered. I was glad Edward was preoccupied with the food.  Again I focused on icebergs – white, cold, vast – instead of thinking about how much I wanted to touch Britney the way Henry was doing.

Henry broke their kiss.  “Tell me,” he repeated.

“Tell you what? Britney's reply was punctuated by a long sigh as Henry kissed and sucked on her nipples again.

“Tell me what you and Mel were whispering about.”

She laughed.  “Secretly, Melissa wants to be topless just like me...but she’s too much of a prude to do it.”

“Hey!” I protested, “that's so wrong!”  I might not want to flaunt myself on the beach, but Melissa Windeyer is no prude.

Britney continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “Someone has to do it for her!”

“Try it!” I hissed, suddenly a little angry with Britney.  Who did she think she was anyway, criticizing me to Henry like that? She should be honoured to be my friend.

“That's a great idea!” Edward entered the conversation.  “You girls should have a little contest.  Can Britney get Mel's top off?  Let’s see!”

For a moment, I thought he was kidding, but then it struck me, and my annoyance ebbed away. Fooling around on the beach with Britney would be so hot.  We could have a lot of fun, so long as we didn't take the fight too seriously. I didn't want to hurt my new friend. She admired and respected me – as she should.  She knew her place too, and she had already proved to be useful insurance if I got into trouble. I was grateful for her help against Jade.

Britney was all for it. “Yes! I'll get your top off! “She giggled and lowered her head to kiss Henry again. As she did so, she rubbed her tits on his chest.
 
I didn't want to appear too eager to fall in with Edward's idea.  He still had to learn Melissa Windeyer is a Goddess to be worshipped, not someone like Britney who'd agree to anything at the drop of a – well, of a bikini top.  I had to try hard not to giggle at that.  “Yeah Britney, and let these two sit back and watch us? We're not just entertainment.”  I grinned at the two men.  “They should do something too.”

“Ok ok,” Edward chuckled. “How about a round two.  After you two fight, we’ll have a chicken fight in the lake?”

“A chicken fight?” Henry sounded confused.

“Britney on your shoulders, Melissa on mine.  The object is to knock the other girl into the drink.”

I cuffed him lightly with the back of my hand. “We girls do all the fighting, and you're just the platform!”  I laughed.  “But still, we’re on top…after all, that's where we belong!”

Edward laughed along with me. “Britney's making that point right now!”
 
I glanced over at Britney and Henry, and even I had to blush. Britney was still straddling him, but she had lowered her body over his, supported on her elbows.  Her breasts were slightly flattened against Henry’s chest.  She was kissing him deeply and all but grinding herself on his crotch.

“Disgusting! They’re practically having sex!”
 
I glanced up at the comment.  The speaker was one of two women in their early twenties – they looked like sisters – who were walking past.  Both were blonde-haired, slender and not very well-endowed, though they looked pretty enough in their somewhat modest bikinis.

Although I almost agreed with them – Britney was certainly slutty – I stood up for my friend. “Mind your own business.”

The duo stopped. “Hello Edward,” said the same girl who had spoken first.  I raised my eyebrows, wondering how she knew him.  She looked at us down her nose.  “Nice to see you.  Give my regards to your wife.” Edward muttered something I didn’t catch. “We had a drink in the University Club last week,” the girl continued.  “Tell her I’m looking forward to doing it again.”  She looked at me.  “She and I should…catch up.”
 
I coloured. I remembered my boss’s daughter warbling to her friends about how she’d gone to an invitation-only function at the University Club with her friends, and joined up at some special rate because the club had a recruitment drive for younger members.
 
I'd ground my teeth then.  I had no chance of going to an invitation-only function at that A-list club, despite the fact that I deserved it so much more than Amanda – my boss’s daughter – did.
 
The girl went on, “Oh, and remind your daughter Kate that I want her there early for volleyball training this week.”

Edward flushed red.  He mumbled, “All right Carissa, I’ll tell them.”

I could see Edward wanted to forget that he’d ever seen these two girls. He wasn’t the only one. These prissy bitches – clearly close friends of the Pakenham family – made me feel small. The sooner they were out of sight, the better.  I glared at them as they went on their way.

Britney and I needed to distract Edward, or our whole day would be ruined. She’d already stopped making out with Henry but was staying laying on top of him.  I nudged her hard enough to roll her off. “I thought we were going to fight…unless you want to ‘make love, not war’.”

Britney knew what I was doing. She winked at me, quickly and so that only I could see. “Just cuz you’re not getting any,” she pouted, and added with a devilish grin, “Maybe if I take your top off, you might!”
 
She sprang to her feet, quicker than I did, and kicked sand at me.  “You want to fight?  You’re on, Melissa!” She lunged at me, her arms outstretched to grapple. I knew what she wanted – her arms around my back, so she could jerk the tie on my bikini. I had to keep my distance.

I stepped back and let her charge carry her past me. I slapped her butt, playfully but hard enough to make her squeal, before she could turn around.  “I’ll get you!” she half giggled as she rushed toward me again.

This time I let her get close, before I grabbed her arm and swung her around. Her hand slapped my back.  It stung but she didn’t get at my bikini strap.  Instead, I hip-tossed her and she stumbled away.
 
I raced after her, my arms out, trying to knock her to the sand.  If I succeeded, I could pin her, but she whirled and grabbed my hand.  Standing firm, she dragged me around, stumbling in a circle with herself as its center.
 
Off-balance, I was almost falling to my knees when she let me go and again swept in. This time she did manage to grapple me but I bobbed down under her arms and escaped her grasp. I slapped her face playfully. “Naughty, naughty!” I giggled as I got free, but  I was still crouched when Britney lashed out with a slap that made my head ring and sent me staggering a few paces backwards. This was more than play!
 
Britney reinforced that impression with a whoop and a lunge at my leg. She yanked it up in the air.  She would have tossed me to the sand if I hadn’t grabbed her shoulder.  She let go of my leg and swiped at the dangling end of my bikini tie again. I had to turn sharply to the side, or she’d have ripped my top right off me.

“Bravo!” Henry cheered his girl on.  “You almost got Melissa that time!”

“A miss is as good as a mile!” I poked my tongue out at Britney. “Bring it on!” As she closed again, I dived at her knees in a football tackle. My shoulder stuck her thigh, my arms wrapped around her legs and she fell, squealing and giggling, to the sand. She rolled away just in time to stop me pinning her.
 
We both got to our feet. “Why don’t you stay down Britney?” I jeered.

“Because I want your top, honey…and I’m gonna get it too!” she retorted, lunging for me again. Again, I avoided her and slapped her ass hard as she blundered past.

“Ooof!” I grunted suddenly.  She hadn’t blundered past me at all. Her arm snaked out, grabbing me around the waist. I felt her other hand whip out. I slammed my elbow down, blocking her arm as she grabbed for my bikini strap.  That had been a close thing.  I f I’d been a second or so slower, she’d have had my top in her hand.
 
We clinched in a giggling embrace, part grope, part cuddle and part bear hug. We kissed, her tongue sucking on mine. I kept my arms tightly pressed against hers, making it hard for her to push them up and grab my top. Britney shoved forward, still kissing me, forcing me back. Too late, I felt her foot behind mine. I stumbled, almost falling to the ground, and certainly falling for one of the oldest tricks in the book.
 
Britney darted to the side as I tried to get my balance back. Too late! I felt her hand on my bikini tie and next thing I knew, she whooped, “Yes! YES!” as she tossed my top gleefully in the air.

Henry whistled. “Wow, Melissa! Why on earth were you hiding those beauties?”

“Full, firm and perfectly shaped,” Edward complimented me.  “Like Britney said, Melissa…if you’ve got it flaunt it…and you’ve certainly got it.”

The men’s comments were no more than I deserved, but I had other things on my mind just then. I wanted to even the score with Britney. I lunged forward in another tackle. I got her down, my bikini top flying from her hand. She was too startled to offer any resistance as I straddled and pinned her.

“I call that a tie!” Edward smiled as he helped me to my feet.  He couldn’t take his eyes off my breasts. “Sure, Britney got your top, but you pinned her.” He kissed me, his hands holding my waist, pulling me towards him and pressing my bare breasts against his chest.

“No way!” Henry rejoined. “Britney wanted Melissa’s top, and she got it. She won!”

Of course, Britney only won because I let her.  She was my friend so I wasn't fighting hard. Besides, Britney was right – deep down, I really did want to go topless that day, but I couldn't just take it off like she did. Britney is Britney and I’m Melissa Windeyer.  I need to uphold a certain standard.  She and I are like the moon and the sun – she simply reflects my light.
 
“Let’s settle it in round two!” said Edward, “but first another glass of bubbly.”

None of us were foolish enough to drink on an empty stomach, so the guys brought out food from their hamper. Nor were we foolish enough to go into the water right after eating and in any case, Henry wanted to congratulate Britney on what he insisted was her win, and Edward wanted to ‘commiserate’ with me.

Henry's congratulations and Edward's commiserations escalated along with the bubbly.  Britney and I were straddling our guys, lying on top of them, supported by our feet and our elbows.  We were necking.  Edward's left hand was playing idly with my right breast, his right was kneading my stomach.  He was making me shiver despite the warmth of the sun.  Henry was fondling Britney's butt and breasts.

“Hello again, Mr Pakenham.  No, don't bother getting up…Rachel and I can see you're a little…busy.” It was the same prissy, meddling nuisance and her sister who'd upset Edward before.
 
Edward's roaming hands dropped to his sides.  He'd been hard against me, through his tented shorts.  That stopped too. He was flushed, uncomfortable.
 
I glared at the interlopers, or at least the one who’d spoken.  “Get lost, bitch.”

She stared back at me, coolly.

I started to stand.  The girl – what was her name, Carissa? – was getting under my skin I met her gaze and she coloured a little.  She knew I was sizing her up.
 
Her sister tugged her arm. “We're just passing by. Come on, Carissa.”

They walked away.  Edward stared after them for a while.  It took all my skill – short of giving him sex right there and then – to take his mind of those two busybodies and the trouble they might stir up, and back to me where he belonged.  Not that I thought Edward was being cruel or deceitful with me, not the way Césaire had been recently.  If it wasn’t for the fact that Césaire had promised to help me into an apartment, I’d ditch him completely and focus myself solely on Edward.

I was more than a little relieved when Henry suggested we continue the competition between Britney and me.  We headed to the cool waters of Lake Michigan.  The guys half-squatted in the shallows so Brit and I could climb onto their shoulders. Edward gripped my legs in place, rose and walked into the Lake stopping and turning to face Henry and Britney when the water was up to his chest.

Edward stepped forward.  I swung my hands through the water, sending a spray up and into Henry's face. He spluttered and coughed. “Hey! We haven’t started yet!”

“Melissa’s too eager,” Edward chastised me with a grin. “She always wants to jump right in.”

“But Britney’s got more staying power!” Henry rejoined.

“How do you know?” I shot back archly.

Britney giggled and bent down to kiss the top of Henry’s head. She whispered something that made him chuckle. “Ok, let battle commence!” Henry said. “Ding, ding!”

Britney kicked out her legs and swung both her arms up, creating a torrent of spray that momentarily blinded me and filled my mouth. I was still choking and spluttering when her hands grasped my shoulders and pushed me hard. I shrieked but grabbed at her, swaying, perilously close to falling off.  There was no way Melissa Windeyer was going to lose this chicken fight this quickly. “You’re gone, Melissa…timber!!!” giggled Britney, pushing even harder, but Edward had a firm grip on my legs and I stayed up, flailing out, grabbing almost at random.
 
My random grab succeeded. Britney yelped as my grip closed on a fistful of her hair. She slashed at my arm and I let go, but the danger to myself was over. 
 
“Don’t be too eager!” Edward said to Britney, as I settled back on his shoulders again.

“Oh, I’m eager but never over-eager, honey” laughed Britney.  “Like Henry said, I’ve got staying power. I wish I could say the same about all my exes!” She smirked as Henry backed away a pace or two, Britney still splashing water at Edward and me.
 
They whispered to one another.  Britney was making too much noise to hear what they said, but they must have been discussing tactics. I was about to bend down and do the same with Edward when Henry stepped up again.
 
Britney bent to the side so far that her body was almost horizontal. She lunged forward from that position, grabbed my waist and yanked hard.  I stayed firmly in my place though, smacking at Britney’s hair. Henry shoved hard. Britney held on and again I found myself driven back, teetering and nearly falling off Edward. I gripped Britney around the neck and, as the guys came closer, forced her upright.
 
She slid her hands up my body and gripped my breasts. “Mmmm, just like Henry said…ripe and firm” she grinned as she squeezed them.  “Lovely melons.”

“Keep your hands to yourself!” I giggled. I put my arms on her shoulders and pushed. Henry stepped back a pace as I did, but Britney hardly moved on his shoulders.  I leant down to Edward.  “Work with me, Edward!”

“You got to tell me what you're planning!” he replied, with just enough edge in his voice to tell me he wasn't entirely pleased. But then nor was I – we should have been winning.

Throughout this brief interchange, Britney had kept her hands on my breasts, squeezing and stroking them. “Melissa, it’s like I always tell you, you’ve gotta communicate better. Guys want a girl to talk as well as fuck.”

I opened my mouth to reply but gasped suddenly – Britney had squeezed my left breast hard, hard enough to give me a jolt of arousal that made my tummy flutter. My nipples were rock hard.
 
Henry stepped up close again, until his body was only inches from Edward's. He turned almost side-on so his head was no longer between Britney and me.  Britney twisted herself and leaned even further toward me, until her body pressed against mine. She kissed me, a long, wet kiss.  For a long moment, I forgot the chicken fight and kissed her back, our tongues melding. My stomach fluttered even harder.
 
Some heckling from the shore reminded me that we had an audience and were supposed to be fighting. I broke the kiss. I turned my head and called out to the wider audience, repeating what I’d said before. “I can’t help it if Britney wants to make love, not war!” That brought a few more cheers.

“Umpfff!” Britney had slapped the side of my head so hard it spun me sideways on Edward’s shoulders, my left leg almost coming adrift from his grip. She followed her success with a hard shove on my shoulders. I teetered precariously on my perch.

“Way to go, blondie! You nearly had her that time!” one guy cheered Britney on.  “Hey, you…the brunette!  You shouldn’t take your eyes off the game.”

I ground my teeth.  I hated to admit that if Edward had been a little slower regaining his grip, I’d have fallen off. As it was, he had to step back for me to recover.  But I’m Melissa Windeyer and despite Edward’s failings, recover I did.

I tried to get Britney in a headlock. She avoided it, her head bobbing back and forth. We grappled again, each trying to push the other off, catching each other around the neck, slamming ourselves into each other while the guys held onto our legs. We pushed with our hands on each other's shoulders, clasping each other's sides, but neither of us could lift the other off her guy's shoulders.  We were giggling too much – that is, when we weren’t groping each other.
 
She shoved me back with her hands on my breasts. I pushed her breasts and rubbed her nipples. Neither of us were trying too hard to fight, this time it was definitely a grope. We were giggling but beneath the giggles, my tummy was more than fluttering now – this was more than arousing. We were both flushed, our nipples were hard pebbles, and although it was tough to tell with water splashing up to our waists every few seconds, I was sure I was leaking more than a little.
 
We both knew we were exactly where we should be – the absolute center of attraction for the entire beach, just like we’d been the week before, dancing at Chatro. Britney whispered in my ear, “We’re so hot! Scorching!  Like you said earlier, everyone is looking at us. Everyone wants a piece of us.” We high fived each other. 

Again the hoots and hollers of the crowd reminded me that we were fighting – or at least we were supposed to be – and though I wanted to weld Britney into her proper place as one of my supporters, I still wanted to win this fight, however playful it might be.   The guys backed off for a breather – all that pushing and shoving and holding us took their toll on them.  I had to remember they were older than us girls.  I took the opportunity to tell Edward my plan.

We closed again, calling out loudly to Britney and Henry, teasing them that they were scared and exhausted, and that we were going to end the fight there and then.  Britney and Henry responded in kind. All that was for show, of course, playing it up for the crowd.

Brit and I began slapping and spraying water at each other again, like we'd done whenever we were in range. The guys closed further and once again we grappled hard, pushing and shoving. Then, when I gave Edward the signal by squeezing my legs around his neck, he suddenly backed off a pace and bobbed down. My wet, slippery body slid out of Britney's grasp. Her look of surprise turned to astonishment and – I was sure – fear as she saw me swing my head down.
 
As Edward surged forward, I struck her right between her breasts. She wavered and started to fall backwards.  I tried to push harder but Edward stumbled – he told me later that he’d put his foot in a hollow in the sand.  Britney grabbed my hair. I howled as she clung to it and dragged herself upright again.

The guys were beginning to tire, breathing hard, and we all paused for a moment.  After all, they were both more than ten years older than Brit or me, and they’d been carrying us on their shoulders for a good ten minutes by then.
 
Henry recovered more quickly – he was a few years younger than Edward – and he and Britney closed on us. Britney latched onto my breasts again, squeezing and kneading them.  My mocking ‘moo’ was cut off, becoming a low gasp when she squeezed a little harder. My belly flipped over and I felt my pussy clench tight.
 
I tried to get her in a headlock but I failed as she bobbed her head out of the way.  My next move was a lunge for Britney’s own left breast, trying to latch my fingers onto the bouncing orb, but her arm flashed up, pushing mine away. ”Naughty naughty, Melissa!” Her hand flashed out and grabbed my belly piercing. She twisted it hard.

My stomach churned.  My body shook with a sudden, instant mini orgasm. “Oh shit!”
 
Britney giggled. “Someone’s enjoying this way too much!”
 
“Back away!” I ordered Edward with desperation in my voice. Edward made to comply but Henry’s arm lashed out, wrapping around my back, almost low enough to grab my butt. If Edward backed away then, Henry would simply drag me off him.

I flailed at Britney’s invading hands.  “Now!” she shouted. Henry let go of my waist and shoved forward, just as Britney slammed her open hands into my shoulders.

I wailed as Edward swayed and I shook on top of him. I wailed again as I felt myself falling from his shoulders, and knew that this time there was nothing I could do about it. My cry ceased abruptly as I swallowed a pint of Lake Michigan.

Britney was at my side when I surfaced. “Well done, Melissa! We put on a great show! That was awesome! You almost had me when you head butted me!” She kissed me.  “Well done.” She put her arm around my shoulders, I hugged her and then, arm in arm with each other and with the guys, we walked back to the shore.

“I need a drink, some food and a snooze.” Edward said as we returned to our place on the sand. He pulled out another bottle of champagne – this must have been our third – from the cooler and refilled everyone’s glasses as Henry passed round sandwiches.  Then I laid down beside Edward on our towels and promptly dozed off.

I woke up about twenty minutes later, leaned over and rubbed myself against him.  He smiled as he stirred.  “Melissa, I’m tired,” he protested, but without much conviction. “It’s ok for you and Britney…you’re young…but Henry and I need our rest. After all, we carried you around in the chicken fight.  All you did was sit up there and ride us.”
 
He kissed me.  “I enjoyed you riding me though,” and added with a wink, “and I’m sure I’ll enjoy you riding me some other way, soon.” He fondled my breast in a slow, sleepy way, “But right now I need to nap. After all, you’ll want us properly rested, later.” Again he chuckled. “Why don’t you and Britney go for a stroll along the beach?”

I could take a hint.  The guys wanted rest. They needed to be properly prepared to take care of us in the way we deserved. “Come on Britney; let’s check out what’s going on.”  I reached for my t-shirt.

« Last Edit: August 16, 2019, 08:21:13 AM by peccavi »
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Re: SCUFFLES, STRUGGLES AND SEX ON THE STRAND
« Reply #1 on: August 16, 2019, 08:17:22 AM »
 
PART TWO – STRUGGLES ON THE SAND

“What do you want that for?” Edward tugged the tee out of my hand.
 
“It’s getting a little cool.”

“Oh, nonsense,” he argued.  “It took us long enough to get you topless. Now off you go!”
 
I sighed and stood up.  “You look cute when you pout,” Britney giggled. “Come on, he’s right.  Let’s show the world we’re the two hottest hotties on the beach.” She lowered her voice.  “Anyway, I want to talk to you.” She slipped her arm into mine and we strutted away, down to the lake shore.  “Melissa, while you and Edward were napping, Henry and I had a talk.”

I looked at my friend. “This sounds serious, sweetie.”
 
“Henry wants to set me up in a new apartment. He owns one, and he says he’ll rent it to me cheap.”
 
“That’s…a little sudden.” I was shocked.  Britney was getting what Césaire was still only talking about offering me!  “I mean, you've only known him for what...a week?”

“Well, it's not like I'll be living with him,” she countered, then added with a smile, “though of course he'll come visiting a lot. Anyway, his wife was away all last week. I spent every night at his place. We got to know each other...” she winked “…really well. He's even shown me the apartment, and it’s so much better than the fleapit I’m sharing right now. I don’t even have my own room! You know what rents are like, and I get paid peanuts.”

“But it's so…quick.”  I still didn’t know what to say.  All I could think of, what that Britney was getting something that I wanted, but didn’t have.

“Melissa, you're repeating yourself. How long have we been good friends? A few months ago, we were bitter enemies.  We even fought each other. Yeah, we've kissed and made up since then, but we’ve only been best buddies for a week…the same night I met Henry.” She looked at me. “You're not jealous, are you Melissa?”
 
“No! No, I'm not jealous.” I bit my tongue.  Melissa Windeyer doesn't do jealousy.  I’m above petty things like that. “No,” I repeated, “I'm pleased for you.” I sounded lame even to myself.

“Maybe we could share!” said Britney.  “The apartment has two bedrooms. Maybe Edward might even buy us some furniture. I've got nothing.”
 
I thought about that.  Of course, I still hoped Césaire would make good on his promise to set me up in an apartment himself, but I hadn’t heard from him since that horrid Thursday when he and Justeen had treated me so badly.  Yes, it was only four days ago, but I expected him to call and apologize for humiliating me, or to talk about the apartment or even to ask me to go to his place and clean. But there’d been nothing – not a word from him.
 
Britney nudged me. “Melissa?”  I realized I’d been quiet for a long time.

“I wonder,” I replied. Of course, I didn't really want to share an apartment with Britney.  Like she had just said, we hadn't known each other for long at all and, well, Britney was Britney.  Still, sharing an apartment with her would be better than living with my parents. I had to reply without sounding negative.
 
We walked further along the beach in silence until I spoke again. “I couldn't ask him for something like that of course.  It would have to come from him.”

“Of course!” she agreed.  “I didn't so much as hint that I wanted a new apartment. The man's got to offer it.  Melissa…” Britney paused and we walked some more before she added, in a slightly different tone, “we've got to offer more than sex if we want something like an apartment. We've got to be…companions too.”
 
I bit my tongue.  Britney, this insignificant fluffball, was trying to teach me, me, Melissa Windeyer! – how to persuade men! My blood boiled.  I so wanted to turn around and smack the little nothing right there on the beach. But I didn't.  I could see her being useful.  The offer to share an apartment was a better option than what I had at the moment, even if it was far from ideal.  Besides, she could deal with some of my enemies like Jade.  Britney also admired me, as she should, and every Goddess wants worshippers.
 
Again she said “Melissa?”

“I'm thinking Britney. I'm trying to think of an angle, to get him to make the offer…but nothing's coming to me”.
 
That wasn't all. I was battling to keep my temper with Britney.  I wanted to punch her.  It wasn’t just because she’d tried to instruct me, not just because she had a man offering to put her into an apartment, not even because Britney was, for the moment, ahead of me on the race to the A-list lifestyle I so deserved.  Britney wasn’t the problem – I was. I was confused, conflicted.  What should I do? I hated feeling like this.  Of course, Britney wouldn't see it. Nor would Edward or Henry when we returned to them. I'd appear to them all as I always was – Melissa Windeyer, the Goddess to be worshipped.  But I hated how I felt inside right then, and I was angry.

We walked about two hundred yards in silence before I nudged Britney. “Look…there are those two women who bugged us before.”

She looked. “Yeah.  They sure had it in for you and Edward.”

I nodded. “Stuck-up pair of bitches.”

They noticed us too as we came closer.  “Rachel,” said Carissa, the one who’d been making comments to Edward earlier, “sometimes you wonder, whether things all work out to God's plan. Life is a lottery.” She might have been talking to her sister, but she was looking straight at me.
 
“Look at marriage.  Take Edward and Claire Pakenham, for instance. Lovely lady, clever, good looking.  So why does her husband hanker after whores?”  She rolled her tongue over the word as her eyes bored into me.

“Some men are like that,” Rachel answered.  “She could always divorce him.”

I knew that would never happen. A rich society wife wouldn’t divorce her husband, at least not unless she could get a pile of alimony out of it. No, most of those A-list wives secretly rather liked their husbands having girlfriends.  It meant they didn't have to put out.

“We know God hates divorce.”  Again, Carissa stared at me.  I knew she wasn’t really talking to her sister.  She was delivering a message to Britney and me. “It's not good for her when her husband hankers after whores like these two.” She wrinkled her pretty, judgmental little nose at us.  “Still, it could be worse.  At least they’re only whores. Remember Proverbs 6:26…a man can buy a whore for a loaf of bread, but an adulteress takes his life. Mind you, some whores want more than a loaf of bread.” She looked hard at us. “Some want…and get…a day at the beach, for instance.”
 
I blinked at her.  Why on earth was this little blonde bitch quoting Bible verses at us?
 
Britney fumed. Carissa shifted her gaze to my companion for a moment. “Some get cheap costume jewelry, and a new outfit too.”

“Carissa, is this the right time to talk about this?” asked her sister, with less disdain and more caution.  “Let's pack up and go.”
 
Instead, Carissa turned back to me. “Some haven’t even got that yet,” she said slowly.  “They live in hope. But will their hopes disappoint them?  After all, they’ve already sold themselves.” She smiled thinly.  “No, I’m wrong. Some get flashy silver…” she paused, looking at the chain around my throat, then looked straight into my eyes again, “…collars.” Her lip curled into a sneer.  “Still, no whore could get an invitation to the University Club.”
 
The mention of the University Club made me redden.  This little bitch was insulting us! “Who are you calling whores?”

“I suppose Claire prefers Edward's whores to him having a mistress.”  Carissa went on talking as if I hadn’t spoken, though she still stared straight into my eyes. My face was burning with anger. “Still, Rachel, if I were Claire Pakenham, I'd say, like Sarah said to Abraham, ‘Drive out this whore and her son’ and remember, Abraham did exactly that.” She smiled again and her stare became even fiercer.  “Edward knows where his loyalties lie.  He’ll get rid of this whore…and you and I, Rachel, can help that along.  We’ll start by telling his wife.”

I could hardly believe this.  This sanctimonious snob was calling me – and Britney – a whore, to our faces! Britney and I weren't whores!
 
Or were we? We didn't sell ourselves, not as such, but we expected and got gifts – clothes, jewelry. And what had we just been talking about? The guys putting us up in apartments, paying part of the rent, maybe even buying some of the furniture. We knew what our part of the deal would be – we’d return the favors with our bodies, willingly and often. 
 
I shook myself mentally.  No, I didn’t want to go there. I couldn't! This so wasn’t us. I’m Melissa Windeyer, a Goddess to be worshipped, not a cheap whore. My hands itched to teach this prissy bitch a lesson.

All the time Carissa had been talking – which was only a few minutes – she and Rachel were still sitting as Britney and I approached and stood only a few feet away. Rachel looked up at me warily. “Come on Carissa, let's just go.” She stood up and half dragged her sister up as well.

Carissa glared at me, then turned to her sister. “Yes, maybe you're right.  Anyway,” she smiled at me smugly, “I can show Claire the photos I took on my phone. Or, maybe even better, I’ll tell Edward I'll do that, and show the photos around to his friends at the University Club…if he doesn’t give up his latest whore.”

I was seething inside. This bitch would destroy my relationship with Edward before it even started. I knew, at this early stage at least, I didn't mean that much to Edward. That would change, of course, when Edward really got to know me. But this bitch Carissa had just about convinced me that right now I wasn't much more to Edward than someone he'd picked up for a bit of fun. I knew he'd dump me rather than lose face with his friends.
 
It was alright for Britney. these nasty smug bitches didn't have it in for her. I glanced across at her.  If I hadn't known she was my friend, I'd have almost thought, from her smug look, that she was enjoying this. Yes, Carissa had insulted her too, but Carissa wasn't trying to destroy her and Henry.  I had to show her I was strong, powerful.
 
“Give me that phone!” I hissed threateningly.  I didn’t know quite what to do – maybe force her to delete the photos from her phone.

Carissa whitened.  “No!” she said, pushing me back. “No, go away.” She looked around as if for someone to rescue her. She didn't see anyone and looked back at me, like a deer caught in headlights.

I reached for her phone.  Her words had cut me.  I was confused, but I told myself, as I'd told myself many times in the past, to look confident is to be confident. After all, I’m Melissa Windeyer.

“Mel!” Britney’s warning cry came too late. A hand lashed around my neck, twisting me sideways to gaze horrified into Rachel’s face. Before I realised what was happening, she bent me over and her knee smashed into my stomach three times.
 
The first blow sank in deep.  It made me splutter as I half choked. I tried to step away, but Rachel’s arm grasped my neck so tightly that I couldn’t move. I tried to hit back at Rachel, but she twisted and my fist just caressed her side.
 
Her second knee made me gasp.  Spit sprayed from my mother as the knee sank even deeper than the first, and forced the air from my lungs. Pain radiated from my stomach across my whole body. I tried to breathe against the pain, but my lungs felt they were on fire. I tried to claw at Rachel’s face. I even succeeded, but my fingers seemed too weak to do any damage to her.
 
The third blow – and all three came mere seconds apart – forced still more air out of my lungs. My legs couldn’t support me.  I sank to my knees at Rachel’s feet, moaning, clutching my belly, all but winded.

Rachel flung me to the side and turned to face Britney, who had taken my place as I crumpled to the sand. I was too badly hurt to do anything but lie there and watch as Britney and Rachel began trading blows.
 
Britney showed her experience.  Weaving from side to side, she dodged Rachel’s attacks while her own light punches landed. After less than thirty seconds, she ducked under a powerful but telegraphed punch to her head and ploughed her fist into Rachel’s gut. Rachel spluttered and stepped back to regroup but Britney sensibly kept the pressure on Rachel, driving her back with well-aimed punches.

“You're finished, whore!” Carissa sneered down at me.  She stamped on my stomach.  My body convulsed. “And we’re going to finish your whore friend too!”  I twisted on the sand, sucking air into my shattered lungs, trying to ignore, or least to master the pain that I knew would stay with me for hours. Carissa followed her sister to attack Britney.

Britney was readier than I was to face the two girls. Her uppercut made Rachel step back quickly, but even so it still jarred the taller sister’s face.  Britney swung around, sidestepping Carissa’s kick, and grabbed the smaller girl’s leg before she had a chance to get it back on the ground.
 
Britney tried to yank it higher, to jerk Carissa off her feet but had to drop the leg when her Rachel rushed in and fired a flurry of punches at Britney’s midsection.  Britney was too slow in turning and Rachel struck her first blow, one that made Britney grunt out loud, her mouth open.

My friend disengaged, retreating, working her way to the side and trying to put Carissa between her and Rachel, to prevent both of them attacking her at once.  She succeeded and then sprang forward, with a left-right combo.
 
Carissa avoided the left but Brit’s right fist struck her hard on the chest, just below her bikini. Britney’s attempted follow up was stymied when Rachel again closed in with punches.  Britney stood her ground this time though, launching punches of her own at Rachel while Carissa stood gasping for a moment – Britney’s punch had done some damage. 
 
More of Britney’s blows went home than Rachel’s did and Britney hit harder, but before Britney got in more than a half dozen or so solid blows, Carissa recovered and struck back with a kick. This time it hit Britney’s side. Britney staggered and groaned.
 
The two girls stepped forward, slugging at Britney’s body with a furious barrage of knees and fists. Britney couldn’t avoid them all. She stumbled, defending frantically, trying to find an opening to counter-attack, but they were all over her.
 
She staggered backwards but managed to recover enough to turn it into a purposeful retreat, trading space for time. Again she tried to get Carissa between herself and Rachel. Again she succeeded.  She tried kicking out at Carissa, but Carissa spun to her side, avoiding the blow

I got to my knees, with an extreme effort. I thought I was going to retch. My head swam and I cradled my aching stomach until the nausea subsided.
 
The two sisters pressed forward, one on each side of Britney.  They turned inwards, punching at her.  Britney retreated, scurrying backwards on the sand for perhaps thirty or forty yards, long enough to put some distance between herself and the two attackers but more importantly to put a bit of distance between the two attackers themselves. She dodged and weaved enough to confuse them.  Clearly they didn’t want her to get away, and they spread out to ensure that whichever way Brit turned, she’d have to deal with one of them.
 
My body may have been battered – after all it was less than two minutes since Carissa had stomped on my belly – but there was nothing wrong with my powers of observation, and I sensed that Britney had a plan.  The two sisters were doing exactly what she expected and wanted them to do.
 
Suddenly, instead of back pedaling further, Britney charged at Rachel.  As she got close, she bent forward, arms outstretched. Rachel was unprepared, showing her inexperience. Britney’s arms clasped round the taller girl’s legs, her shoulder slammed into her foe’s stomach and Rachel dropped heavily to the sand, groaning.
 
Britney spun on her heel and rushed straight at Carissa.  The smaller sister stood dumbfounded for a few vital seconds. Britney grabbed her hair and punched her stomach hard. Carissa squealed. She squealed again when Britney repeated the blow, but managed to dodge Britney's up-swung knee.
 
Counter-attacking at last, she slapped and clawed at Britney's face, clawing and twisting Britney's arm that held her hair. She jerked her body violently, trying to break Britney's grip, but she didn’t. Britney's left hand gripped the smaller girl’s hair tightly as her right fist hit home, three more times. Each time Carissa let out an even louder squeal. The first time she trembled, the second she slumped forward slightly but pulled herself up. The third time she slumped even further. She was still fighting, still slapping, clawing and twisting but she couldn’t break free or even make Britney halt her attacks.

“Watch out, blondie!” some guy yelled from the sidelines. Britney turned, just in time to prevent Rachel from tackling her to the sand. She flung Carissa away from her and lashed out with a punch at Rachel, who dodged it. For a few seconds the two girls traded blows, and again Britney had the better of the exchange as her blows hit harder and more often.

“Grab her Carissa!” Rachel snapped at her sister, who was standing bent over, breathing hard.  Carissa jumped back into the fight, yanking Britney's hair, hauling her backward, exposing my friend to a punch that hammered her midriff.  Britney staggered. 
 
Carissa seized her arms, locking her own hands through Britney's elbows, pinning them behind her and preventing her from defending herself. “Good work!’ Rachel sneered, “now let’s get this whore!” She rammed a succession of knee blows into Britney's stomach. Britney gasped, then groaned at the first two.  The third made her slump forward and by the fifth, it was only Carissa holding her that kept her upright.
 
I got to my feet.  It was horrid seeing my friend being taken apart like this but it was more horrid still, not knowing what to do about it.  I could abandon Britney, but Edward and I were finished if I did that.  Not only would he think me a wimp, but Carissa would blackmail him with those pictures.  He’d have no choice but to toss me aside.
 
There was only one thing for it.  I had to help Britney. But I hurt so much inside. But then I mentally shook myself.  What was I saying? I’m Melissa Windeyer, a seasoned fighter. I could master the pain. I pulled myself together and strode purposefully down the beach toward them.  No way would these stuck-up bitches know they had so nearly destroyed me with a few blows.

Rachel saw me approaching.  She turned and came at for me. I let her charge, then dodged to the side as she came close. She turned and followed me but I kept backing away, hoping she'd tire herself, hoping she'd get angry and do something rash, hoping above all to give myself and Britney some more time to recover.
 
I managed to work my way around Rachel and dashed towards Carissa, even though her sister was close behind me.  Carissa shrieked and slackened her hold on the still gasping Britney, who squirmed free without much trouble.

I was still dodging Rachel.  She was clearly the tougher and stronger sister.  I wanted Britney's aid to deal with her. I'd led the bigger girl a good chase, but it came to an end when Rachel went into overdrive, rushing forward and slugging me in my already battered stomach.
 
I pulled back and snapped a few light punches at her, intended more to slow Rachel down than to seriously hurt her. She kept trying to hammer me with big blows. Some hit, but most I avoided. When she began to tire, puffing and wheezing, I started to step up the pressure, launching heavier blows or my own.
 
She avoided the first two, but the third and fourth hit her hard in the chest and side.  The next two, she dodged by twisting to her right, and lashed out at me again.  I bobbed down and her fist just kissed the top of my head.  I struck hard again with a punch to her gut that doubled her over, coughing.
 
Before I could capitalise on that success though, Rachel stumbled backward out of range. I followed her, firing more punches. For a moment we traded blows, I hit harder and more often than she did.  She may have been fitter and stronger than me, but she didn't have my fighting experience or my staying power.  After all, I’m Melissa Windeyer.  She edged backwards began to defend more.  She gasped and groaned when my blows hit.
 
I spared a fleeting glance at Britney.  She had Carissa staggering backwards.  The weakling was near to tears. “Way to go Brit!” I encouraged her before turning back to deal again with Carissa’s sister. I pursued Rachel with light blows that began to get through her defences more often.
 
She was soon stumbling. I switched to heavier punches.  I needed to finish this battle. I was nearing exhaustion – but so was she. She was panting, gasping for breath, mouth open. She retreated, scurrying back faster than I could follow and for a moment, we both there with our chests heaving, fighting not each other but our own tired bodies.

Again I looked over at Carissa and Britney.  Carissa was ashen.  She tried to attack, almost stumbling forward, fists up. Britney sidestepped but Carissa, to give her her due, swung around quickly and hit Britney on the chin, hard enough to snap my friend's head back.
 
Carissa tried to exploit her advantage with another punch but Britney was too quick for her. She brushed Carissa's feeble attempt aside, and sent her own bunched fists into Carissa's body, left and right. Carissa reeled, barely defending.  She had clearly put her last reserves into that attack.  Now it had failed and she had nothing left. Britney hammered her again and again with heavy blows. Carissa wailed, stumbling, barely staying on her feet.
 
Rachel broke away from me and started to go to her sister’s aid. I had to stop this. I was too tired to run but I still stepped quickly into the gap between the two sisters, and, fists raised, continued slugging it out with Rachel
 
Both of us were stumbling by then.  Neither of us hit hard as hard or as fast as we had at the beginning.  Her dirty surprise attack had taken its toll on me, but I’d come back and worn her down. Again I began to hit her more often.  She was defending more, and not as well.
 
That gave me extra energy and I hit harder.  I forced her back, away from her sister I was softening her up now and she knew it. Her face paled and she started to shudder as I fired blows at her, even if they didn’t hit. She wasn’t trying to hit me, just to make sure I didn’t hit her. But I did hit her, not every blow but often enough and hard enough to weaken her further.
 
Britney was softening up Carissa too, pummelling her stomach, chest and face. For all her arrogant talk, she was weaker by far than her sister. Britney was proving that Carissa’s mouth wrote cheques her body couldn’t cash.
 
She grabbed Carissa by the shoulders. “You and your sister double teamed Mel!” She drove her knee into the weakling’s belly. Carissa groaned.  Her entire body shook with the blow. “Your sister did this!” Again she rammed her knee up into Carissa’s belly.  Carissa’s cry of agony turned into a breathless gasp.  She slumped over and only stayed upright because Britney held her. “Three times to Mel!” Britney let Carissa go, and the battered little blonde bitch dropped to the sand. “Loser! You only lasted two!” she sneered. She stamped on Carissa’s belly, like Carissa had done to me.
 
Carissa’s body convulsed. “You can’t take your own medicine!” Brit sneered again.  She rolled Carissa over, undid the now sobbing preppy’s bikini top and used it to tie the defeated girl’s hands together behind her back.

I noticed all this while I was still focusing on pounding Rachel, who had maneuvered herself between me and where Britney was working Carissa over. I kept Rachel far too busy for her to go to her Carissa’s aid.

“Ooofff! Oh…fuck!” Out of nowhere, Rachel had lashed out with a kick that buried itself in my stomach and almost knocked me off my feet. I staggered back, clutching my shattered, brutalised gut.
 
Rachel attacked again, hitting hard and breaking through my weak defence. I was exhausted. I wanted to scream for Britney's help but I put that thought out of my mind. What would people say if I admitted I was too weak to handle this snobbish nothing on my own? I’m Melissa Windeyer!
 
So I stood fast and began fighting back. I got hammered with a barrage of punches, till I swung my own knee up and hit her in her stomach too. That rocked her and she stumbled, her attack faltering.  I followed up, trying to keep the pressure on.  Now we were trading blows, both of us throwing punches wildly.  Neither of us were able to aim properly any longer.  Both of us were slow, shaky on our feet.  Our blows were feeble, both of us all but dead on our feet. We broke apart, gasping for breath.

I focused for a few seconds on the pain and the exhaustion, putting them deep inside me, locking them in a chest and throwing the chest in the Lake. I drew up, from that same place deep inside me, my last reserves of strength and determination.  I had to win this.  I had to.
 
I turned back to Rachel and struck, focusing now on making each blow count, on aiming, on defending well. As it happened, I didn’t need to defend at all. Rachel hadn't recovered like I had.  The fluff ball had no inner strength, no experience in fighting, no grit. She had no answer to my attack. She panicked as I pounded her. I picked my blows even more carefully, first firing an uppercut to her chin that snapped her head back. She groaned.  Her body went slack. When I drove my fist into her belly, she crumpled to the sand and stayed there this time.

I copied Britney by rolling Rachel onto her belly and tying her hands with her bikini top.  Britney strutted over, dragging a snivelling Carissa along with her. Britney and I kissed. She looked at the two beaten A-listers.  “They're topless just like us now!”

"The difference is, we won and they lost!" I laughed.
 
My face became serious again as I turned to the two stuck-up snobs who stood trembling, side by side. I slapped them both hard across the face, leaving red marks on both cheeks of each battered bitch. Tears ran down Carissa's cheeks. Then Brit and I marched them back to their towels and forced them to their knees.
 
"Where are your phones, bitches?"
 
They said nothing but Carissa's eyes strayed momentarily to her bag and gave us the answer we needed. Brit retrieved both phones and handed them to me.

It was easy to break into them. I just pressed the girls' thumbs against the phones. I trashed all their photos right away, then took some more, of each of them and of both of them, kneeling, topless, crying. I sent the photos to everyone on their contact lists.
 
“Keep out of our way in future…and don’t even think of causing any trouble for Edward or Henry,” I told the now cowed girls.
 
“Why stop at their tops?” said Britney with a giggle.  “We should take some trophies…let’s make them strip and we keep their bottoms.”
 
“Brit!  Way to go, girl!  Yeah, we deserve some trophyies.”
 
“No!” Edward's decisive voice stopped me.  He and Henry must have wondered what had happened to us, and followed us up the beach.  “You've gone far enough. You'll get us all into trouble with the lifeguards.”
 
I pouted. “But they can get dressed! Their clothes are rightnext to them. We'll even untie their hands so they can…though we'd tie them up again afterwards.” I giggled.
 
“No,” he said firmly.  “That's enough, Melissa.  This isn't the place…it’s a beach, not a dive like Chatro. And the Bernards aren’t Chelle or Kelsey or Jade.” He cut off my protest – who did he think those prissy bitches were? – with a kiss, and wrapped his arm around my waist, restraining me.
 
“It was a great battle.  You were so hot to watch, your body gleaming in the evening sun. Your strength…your courage. You're one tough woman!  But it goes no further than this.” He kissed me again.  “I thought you were finished when these two double teamed you.  They totally surprised you. But no, you recovered…fought back…and won.”

“I hope you got that on cam,” I said with a laugh.

“Of course…and it was so hot. But like I said, you've gone far enough. me, his tongue pushing its way into my mouth, his hands grasped my butt and pulled me close. A long moment later he broke the kiss, smiling, and turned to where Britney and Henry stood in a clinch, kissing passionately.
 
“Henry, both our champions dug deep just now.  They’ve both certainly got the power to endure.”  He dropped his voice to a whisper – but a loud whisper that I was sure the two snivelling girls could have heard – as I was just as sure they were meant to. “You said Britney had the greater staying power. I'm not so sure, but we'll find that out soon enough.” He winked at his friend and crushed my body to him, stifling my cry – my bruised body hurt at his touch – with a deep kiss
 
Britney winced too and Henry broke his kiss. “Edward, the girls need something to soothe their aches and pains…they must be so sore!”
 
“And I’m sure they need some sustenance too,” added Edward. “Come on, Melissa!” Still holding me tightly around the waist, he led me away from the Bernard sisters, back to our own spot on the beach.
 
I sat down on my towel.  Edward applied a soothing salve to my face, arms and legs before I lay back and he started on my body.  Each gentle stroke of his fingers on my upper belly and breasts made me tingle.  My nipples were hard like pebbles – Edward was teasing them, first applying the lotion and rubbing it in before he bent over, licking and sucking on my breasts.
 
“Oooh!” I shivered as he ran his fingers around my navel piercing.  The exhilaration of winning the fight and the excitement of watching Henry work on Britney, much as Edward was doing to me, was arousing enough. To have Edward start playing with my belly button was too much.  If I let him continue much further,  I’d be humping the sand.
 
I pushed him away, gently and reluctantly. “Edward…please!” I protested with a lot more conviction than I felt.  “I’m all covered in sand and I’m sure I won’t be half so sore after a hot shower.” I sat up.  “Coming, Britney?” I looked back at the guys.  “We’ll be back directly. Anyway guys, it’s getting late. You’ll probably want a shower too, before we celebrate our wins.”
 
“Wins?” Britney had got the message. We needed to lay the law down to the guys but do it light-heartedly, so they’d still take us to dinner. “You only won once today!  I won three times…once with your help, Henry.” she kissed him.
 
“Yeah Britney.” Henry chuckled. "We’re the ones celebrating.  Edward should buy us all dinner!”
 
Edward smiled. “Of course I will…but that's not all I'll be buying you, Melissa.” He winked.  “No, far from it!”
 
I kissed Edward as I picked up my clothes. Britney and I sauntered off.
 
“What’s eating you Melissa?” she asked when we were out of earshot.  “Don’t try to pretend, either.  I know you too well.”
 
“You heard Edward earlier,” I replied, “saying the Bernards…Carissa and Rachel…weren’t like Chelle or Kelsey or Jade. He meant they’re better than Chelle and the rest. What he didn’t say…but what he meant…was that the Bernards are better than you or me.”
 
Britney shrugged.  “So, what’s new? You don’t think he’d ever marry you or me.  He might marry one of the Bernards or one of their friends.” My mouth gaped as she Britney went on. “Face it, Mel…at best we’re going to be these guys’ mistresses.  At worst, we’re just what the Bernards called us…whores.
 
‘What we need to do is to be some rich guy’s mistress, and not just some ‘four F’ girl…you know, find, feed, fuck and forget. For that, we…you and I...need a plan. Like I said before, great sex isn’t enough. Nor is winning a fight.” She smiled, stepped closer, flung her arms around me. “But… they’re a great start…and you and I do them both so well.” She kissed me hard. “Come on let’s go shower…together.”
 
I didn't know what to think about Britney's biting comments. I knew I deserved to be up there with the Bernards, with Edward and Henry, with the rest of the A-list people. Britney was so wrong in comparing herself to me. She was indeed the moon to my sun, shining with my reflected glory. Without me she was just a hottie – and hotties were a dime a dozen. But just then on the beach I couldn’t think of a retort that would serve.   I did concede to myself that she was right about three things.  We gave great sex, we fought well, and I needed a plan – a proper plan – to get to where I wanted to be.
 
One thing I knew was that Britney Summers was a part of my plan.  She'd be a helpful stepping stone along my path to the A-list.  She admired me, and she’d already shown her worth in beating Jade.  not to mention today – I wouldn’t have gotten nearly as close to Edward without her. 
 
Perhaps more important, she might also be a way of getting out of my parents’ house and into more suitable accommodation.  I needed to be closer to work, to the Scene, to the center of Chitown.  I also deserved a place more private, where I could entertain my friends.
 
When we got to the shower block, I had no more time to think.  As soon as we stripped off and got into the shower, Britney grabbed my ass in both her hands and pulled me close, grinding her sexy body against me as she kissed me.
 
The shower block was far from an ideal venue.  The water only ran for a few minutes before we had to feed another quarter into the slot.  There was no privacy – someone might have walked in on us at any moment, though thankfully no-one did.  But Britney wanted me, I wanted her and we both needed release – urgently.
 
Our hands fumbled on each other's bottoms as we lathered each other up with the soap and shampoo I’d brought – Melissa Windeyer thinks ahead.  That soon turned to gentle caresses, kissing deeply until we ran out of breath, then pausing as briefly as we could before our tongues entwined again.
 
Eventually we rinsed the shampoo out of each other’s hair, and sluiced the soap off each other’s bodies with quite a lot more care than was really necessary, languorously kissing and fondling one another while the hot water cascaded over our slick bodies.  My hand cupped and squeezed Britney’s breast as she suckled on mine.
 
I slid my hand down, over her smooth belly, past her wet flanks, across her hip and then up her inside thigh. She moaned softly as my fingers found her clit. I moaned in turn as she played with my piercing. I pushed her back against the wall, directed the spray onto us and thrust my fingers inside her. She moaned again and began to hump my fingers.
 
“What the hell???” I turned, red-faced, to see a woman in her forties, standing in the entrance to the communal shower stall, her mouth wide open. “Did I just see you two fucking?”
 
We didn’t reply, but scurried past her into the changing room.  Crestfallen, mortified but as horny as rutting rabbits, we dried ourselves hurriedly and returned to the guys.
 
Edward took one look at us and laughed out loud.  “You two were making out and got interrupted!” We both blushed.  “Yeah, it’s that obvious!” He kissed me, held me close and whispered, “But it doesn’t matter, you horny wench.  We’ve got all night in front of us.”
 
He cupped and squeezed my breast, making me gasp.  I was still aroused from Britney, and that had happened because of what Edward himself had started earlier, after the fight.  I almost had to fight for breath as he kneaded, stroked and petted my tummy, playing with my piercing. 
 
I’d had to push him away he’d done all that in Chatro the week before.  I’d done that not just to teach him a lesson, that I was no plaything – no fluffball – but also because I knew I’d lose control if I let him continue.  Now, here on the beach, after all the events of the day – the play-fights with Britney, the battle against the Bernards, and then the interrupted session in the showers, I felt like I was about to explode.  Thinking of icebergs didn’t work at all right then.
 
I was so glad when he eased his hand back and spoke more normally. “Henry and I were talking while you and Brit were…well, let’s call it getting better acquainted with each other. His family are coming home, which means his apartment’s a no-go zone tonight. So we decided to go over to the Lincoln Hotel. Come on!  We've packed your stuff already…it's in Henry's car.”
 
We piled into Henry's Beamer and drove the short distance from the beach to the hotel on the edge of Lincoln Park. I was glad it was a short distance and a short trip, and that it was dusk and darkening quickly. Edward didn’t stop playing with my piercing the whole time.  When I tried to protest, he pushed my hands away and, while still playing with my stomach as he’d done a few moments ago on the beach, eased my sarong down and slid his other hand between my panties and my skin. He just left it there, reminding me what he could do, and that I was too lustful to stop him.
 
“We just need to pick up the keys…we've already booked.” Edward hustled us into the elevator lobby as he and Henry went to the front desk.
 
“It's as though they don’t want us to be seen with them,” I whispered.
 
“Will you wake up, Mel?” said Britney, exasperated.  “What would the hotel staff think?  Two middle-aged guys, two much younger hotties, no baggage, checking in for one night? Of course they don’t want to be seen with us!  Nor do we want to be seen with them! The beach, nightclubs…that’s different.  You go there for all kinds of reasons…but we've come to this hotel to get fucked.  Everyone will know that…so let’s be discrete.”
 
I hated to admit it but Britney was right.  I blushed, ashamed that I hadn’t recognized the obvious, and more frustrated that I had to sneak around like this. I ground my teeth. I was Melissa Windeyer. I deserved better.
 
But my frustration was short-lived. I couldn’t help but be impressed with the rooms the guys had booked – a two-bedroom suite with living room in between.  Each bedroom had its own bathroom and the rooms all looked over Lincoln Park and the Lake.
 
We’d hardly had a proper look at the rooms before Edward had me in his arms, his hand tugging at my sarong which slid to the floor. We didn’t care that we were in full view of Henry and Britney.  My panties followed as he walked me backwards into the bedroom. I undid his belt and his trousers.
 
We didn’t make the bed. Fouled by his trousers around his ankles, Edward half tripped and I bumped the wall behind me.  He hoisted me slightly.  I wrapped my hands around his neck and my feet around his hips, pulling him against and into me. I lowered myself to meet his thrusts. Our tongues meshed. I clenched my pussy muscles as I rode him.  A moment later he broke the kiss, groaned and came.
 
He stepped back and I slid down, my feet on the floor again. I padded back out to the living room, naked from the waist down but still wearing my blouse.  I poured four flutes of champagne.
 
Britney walked in from the other bedroom, naked. She giggled at me. “Melissa!  Still hiding those boobies?” She stepped up to me. “Edward!” I hadn’t noticed him follow me out.  “Pin her arms!” I found my arms pinioned behind my back.
 
Britney giggled more. She kissed me. Then she unbuttoned my blouse, pausing to squeeze my breasts, stroke my piercing and kiss me between each button. I squirmed, trying to free myself, but only succeeded in rubbing my naked butt against Edward – and his shaft.
 
Britney teased me unmercifully, taking her time removing my blouse.  By the time she pushed it back on my arms, I was a whimpering, moaning puddle of lust.  She unhooked my bra and slipped it off me, twirling it in her hand.  “Ta da!’ she giggled again.  “Honey…you really shouldn’t hide those!” She stroked them lovingly with her other hand.
 
The next moment Edward pulled me backwards, down onto his lap as he seated himself on the couch. He lifted me a little, then eased me down on his again-erect shaft. I gasped as he entered me.  He held me around the waist as Britney bent forward, one hand resting on the arm of the couch as she licked and kissed and nibbled at my breasts.  My nipples were so hard they were throbbing.  I squirmed on Edward’s cock.
 
Edward’s free hand played with my piercing again. That was the last straw.  Almost instantly I was whimpering, head tossing from side to side, body shaken by mini0orgasms which merged into one another as they build toward a massive climax.
 
Britney’s teeth nipped my breast hard. I looked up, focusing dimly, to see Henry holding her hips, taking her from behind. I grasped Britney around the shoulders, pulled her closer and squealed loudly as I came hard.
 
Neither of the guys could last long.  They were too hot, even though it was the second time for Edward.  It wasn’t long before he erupted inside me.  Edward lifted me off his lap, pushing me almost upright. I clung to Britney for support. It was only a moment longer before she and I were kissing urgently, holding each other with our right arms wrapped one another, while we fingered each other with our left.
 
After what seemed an age, but was probably only a few minutes, we both came, our bodies trembling. We stumbled off on unsteady feet to shower, this time alone, each in our respective bathrooms.
 
We came out to find the men dressed again. “We’re going out for dinner…and some nightlife,” Edward announced blandly.
 
“But Mel and I...we’re exhausted,” protested Britney.  We can eat here…room service.  Besides, we’ve only only got beach clothes with us.”
 
“No, we’re going out.” Henry cut off Britney’s protest.
 
There was no arguing with them, so we both dressed as best we could, though I still felt shabby and self-conscious.  When Melissa Windeyer goes out on the town, she dresses to turn heads.  I felt like I was doing that, but not in a good way.
 
The guys took us upstairs to the rooftop bar – the J Parker.  The bar was packed, not surprising for such a popular place, but they must have had some serious pull, or tipped the host heavily, because we immediately got a table with wonderful service and one of the best views, looking over the city skyline as the sun set.
 
Edward and I chatted, with each other as well as among the four of us.  I got to know more about Edward in that half-hour chat then I’d found out in the whole time I’d known him. It felt like we really clicked – that we formed a connection right then.
 
Blondes are cool Brunettes are Hot!!

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Offline peccavi

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Re: SCUFFLES, STRUGGLES AND SEX ON THE STRAND
« Reply #2 on: August 16, 2019, 08:19:47 AM »
PART THREE – STRUGGLES IN THE NIGHTCLUB

We had dinner in the J Parker.  Afterwards, the guys wanted to go dancing, so we went downtown to some club Britney knew. Again, it was popular and crowded, but Britney had a word with the bouncer, Henry slid him a few dollars and we were in ahead of the queue. A few more words and a few more dollars got us a table near the entertainment – a live band and a singer.
 
The bar was poorly lit except for the stage. The clientele were mainly young and casually dressed.  There were lots of Latinos and African Americans.  Henry and Edward, pushing forty and wearing jackets, stood out on both counts.  All the other guys were in jeans and either t-shirts or singlets. Most of the girls were in jeans, cut-offs, daisy dukes or short skirts and most wore tight-fitting tops. At least Britney and I didn’t seem at all overdressed in our beachwear.  The main drinks were mixers or coolers for the girls, beer for the guys.
 
This was not the A-list bar I wanted to go to, but Britney was a store clerk and I guessed most of the other girls here were had similar jobs, in stores or punching a terminal in some low-paid office job. Still, the drinks were cheap and the entertainment was ok. We got up to dance and had a good time, though it wasn’t the kind of dancing Britney and I had done in Chatro – well, not at first.
 
Just after we sat down again though, the music changed to some raunchy slower numbers.  I finished my drink – a cooler too – and pulled Edward up again. As we danced, I pressed my body close to him, kissing him deeply, reminding him just how desirable Melissa Windeyer was, of just how lucky he was to have me in his arms. By the time the bracket was over, he was panting, his trousers tenting.  There was even a moist patch where I’d rubbed my body against his cock – I was sure he’d leaked pre-cum.
 
When we sat down, he fished out some money and asked me to get us some more drinks. I took pity on him – after all, his tentage was my fault – and wandered off to the bar.  I got propositioned a couple of times on the way – once by a guy who’d I’d have been happy to give my phone number to, if I hadn’t felt Edward’s eye on me. I was groped too – it was that kind of bar – but a quick jab with my heel on the offending guy’s foot stopped him dead.
 
I returned just as the band began big band numbers.  I recognised one of Arthur Wellesley's favourites – In the Mood.  The lighting dimmed even more and the singer was replaced by a dancer.
 
She wore a very short and very tight red dress – so low-cut that her boobs almost popped out – red patent leather knee-high boots with four-inch heels, and red gloves. I supposed that, under the caked-on makeup, she was about the same age as Brit and me – mid-twenties – though the half-light of the club made it harder still to see.  Her dark brown hair hung long and loose down her back.
 
A few moments after she appeared, she strutted up to the pole in the center of the stage, grabbed it and bent back, shaking her long mane as she tossed her head in time to the music. She grasped the pole in both hands and slid up and down it. She let go with one hand and swung round it, one leg on the ground, the other out high enough for her free arm to touch it. She lowered her leg before kicking it out again, even higher.  Every guy in the place was watching her – Edward and Henry included – along with more than a few of the women, as she went through her routine of bumps and grinds, swinging her hips, shaking her butt, all but humping the pole.  Each movement was exaggerated; she arched her back, stuck out her butt and wiggled it.  It was close to a striptease routine, though she kept her clothes on.
 
Britney and I exchanged glances.  We had to distract our guys and get their attention back on us, where it belonged. We both nestled up to them, stroking their thighs, brushing our breasts against them. We were more successful than I'd been with Edward that night at Chatro, and both Edward and Henry soon began to ignore the dancer and focus on us again.
 
After some more butt shaking and swinging from the pole, the bitch stepped right up to the front of the stage. She removed one finger at a time from the glove on her left hand, then pulled the glove off, whirled it in the air and tossed it into the crowd.  Some idiot guys dived for the thrown glove.  The winner whooped and tossed it in the air.
 
The dancer began to do the same with the other glove. She'd taken it off and was whirling it around, scanning the room, when her head stopped moving and she seemed to focus directly on us.  She swayed her hips even more than before – or maybe perhaps it was only a shimmy – but then she stepped close and threw the glove directly onto our table.
 
I caught it and threw it back. I didn't want her around, interfering.  Some guy at a table to the side of the stage leaped in the air and caught it.  The dancer locked eyes with me for a second.  Neither of us said a word, but the challenge flashed between us nonetheless.
 
She shimmied towards us, working her way in an arc from the tables at the side of the stage. She quivered her bust within her tight top, moving her shoulders alternately back and forth. She had her arms extended as she danced, tossing – there was no other word for the corny, exaggerated step – her left leg over her right, before pulling her right leg back to a normal stance.
 
Hands on her hips, she wiggled her butt at the guy who'd caught her glove. He and his friends clapped and whistled. They beckoned her close and when she approached, one of them kissed her. She ground against him while he stuck some dollar bills into her top then slapped her ass and sent her to another at the same table. She gave him a lap dance for a few seconds, grinding on him as he too shoved some notes into her top.
 
Then she stood, shimmied towards us, and my eyes widened as I finally realized who I was looking at.  “Carmella Windsor!” I gasped.  I knew this man stealing slut.  I almost kicked myself for not recognising her earlier.
 
I remembered her stealing some guy from a girl at Chatro.  That had been a while ago. They’d called her Mistress Carmella then. I’d heard rumours about her since then, but I'd never paid the fluff ball much attention and I hadn’t bothered with the rumors about her either.  She was beneath me.
 
But now here she was, bumping and grinding in front of Edward and Henry.  Well-dressed like they were, they stood out like beacons in a place that that, magnets for a bimbo like Carmella.  I could see our golden geese being stolen out from under our noses by this little slut, and all our plans turning to dust.   She needed to be dealt with – removed. I glanced across to Britney, and she gave me a nod.  She got the message.
 
I looked at Carmella, sizing her up. She was about my height, though it was hard to tell with heels as high as she had – they were more than four inches, gold lame, shining in the half light.  She was skinny – one of those tradies at the bar could have put his big hands right around her waist – but strong-looking too.  I could see well-defined muscles in her legs and arms. Her eyes shone out of a surround of thick makeup. Her hair had that almost dead look that comes from being dyed too often.
 
Carmella shimmied closer, shaking her butt. She arched her back so her hair dangled in front of another group of guys. One of them caught her around the waist, pulled her onto his lap and kissed her again. This time she kissed him back. He stuffed some more money into her cleavage. She kissed him again, whispered something and walked on towards us.
 
She strutted closer, licking her lips, running her tongue around them as she eyed our guys.  “Get lost” I hissed as she approached.
 
Britney stood up and glared at Carmella. “You heard Melissa…fuck off!”
 
Carmella stared at us. “Scared I'll steal your guys? You should be too!” She sashayed onward, but turned her head for a passing comment, “But after you two whores, who knows what disease I’d pick up if I fucked them.”  I seethed and thought about teaching the little slut a lesson right there, but I kept my tempter – just.
 
She danced on, past a few more tables, shaking her ass, strutting her numbers, as guys ogled her.  She stopped and kissed some, collecting more tips. The music stopped when she was maybe six tables away from us. There was a guy there, sitting by himself.
 
Carmella smiled at him and they exchanged a few words.  I didn’t hear exactly what they said but her body language and the bit I did hear told me she was inviting herself to his table.  She sat down next to him.
 
Britney gasped and nudged me. “That guy’s with Alison Baur!” I looked at him as Britney went on, “Yeah…they come here often. I've got to know them…well, mainly her. She works in advertising…some big shot job.  I think she calls herself an account executive.  Anyway, she's always swanning around…expensive clothes, expensive drinks. She thinks she's better than she is. Yeah, I don't like her.  She's a bitch. Anyway, she split up with her husband a while ago and she's been kinda dating Will Beresford…that guy at the table.”
 
“For someone who's kinda dating someone, he looks mighty interested in Carmella,” said Henry. That was true.  Within a few moments of sitting down, Carmella was on his knee and he had his arm round her waist.  She had one arm round his neck and they were kissing.”
 
“Uh oh!” Britney giggled.  “Now the shit hits the fan...here comes Alison.”
 
I smiled.  The dancer’s soon-to-be opponent looked strong and fit. Alison wore a business suit without a blouse, just a low-cut shell that stretched tight across her bust and allowed any guy who cared to look a good eyeful of cleavage. Her shoulder-length brown hair hung straight down. She wore a good deal of costume jewellery – gold bracelets on both arms, a gold chain round her left ankle, a gold collar and a chunky gold pendant, the bottom end of which nestled between her breasts. I guessed she was in her early thirties, almost old for this bar.  She was tanned, and her leg muscles rippled as she strode across the floor. I was sure she'd give Carmella the hiding she so richly deserved.
 
She moved quickly, reaching Will's table before Carmella had even recognized the threat. Alison's left hand grabbed the dancer's hair, yanking her off Will's lap and half upright. She slapped the astonished Carmella's face hard, three times. Each time Carmella squealed as her head shook.
 
Carmella turned, stood upright and her hands snaked up, catching Alison's wrists. She tried to free her hair from the older woman's clutches, twisting and turning. Instead Alison broke the dancer's grip on her right hand and laid into the younger girl with more heavy slaps, rocking the squealing dancer's body. “Leave my man alone!”
 
Carmella said nothing but swung her knee up, almost burying it in Alison's stomach. Spittle sprayed out of the older woman's mouth as air rushed from her lungs. She let go of Carmella’s hair and staggered back, gasping. 
 
The brunette followed, slapping at her foe's face. Alison recovered quickly, showing she was both fit, strong and, more importantly, a seasoned fighter. In only a few seconds she was trading slaps with the dancer. That didn't last long, though both got in some heavy blows. Alison had the best of the exchange. Carmella was confined by the tables and chairs, while Alison had the area between the stage and the tables to dodge and weave. She took full advantage of that, hammering Carmella with big sweeping slaps much more often than the dancer could respond.
 
I licked my lips as Alison worked Carmella over, hitting her face, her boobs and her shoulders with big heavy slaps swung from the hips that jolted the dancer down to her shoes. I wanted to see Carmella crushed. She'd learn not to try to flirt with other girls' guys!
 
Finally – it was less than a minute, but to an increasingly battered Carmella it must have seemed much longer – the dancer escaped, knocking over a chair and pushing past a table. She shook herself, as if trying to blow away the cobwebs.  Then she launched herself into some solid slaps of her own, and the two girls exchanged blows for a few moments. Now Carmella had some space, she was fighting back, dodging better and hitting Alison perhaps as often as Alison hit her.
 
Alison stepped forward and grasped a hank of Carmella's long hair, yanking it hard, pulling the dancer towards her, breaking Carmella rhythm. Carmella’s slapping arm missed and she staggered, off-balance. Alison shook the dancer before punching her hard in her gut. Carmella groaned.
 
Now Alison buried both her hands in Carmella brown locks and dragged the dancer down, bending her forward, twisting her body and jerking her around. Carmella struggled to get upright.  She grabbed at Alison's hair, but failed to connect properly.
 
The two women swayed around, grappling. Alison yanked and pulled.  Carmella groaned as Alison sent her into a table. The dancer groaned again as Alison yanked her up, swung her around, and kicked hard at Carmella' shins.  She forced Carmella down, but the dancer struggled up again.
 
“That girl sure likes to pull hair,” Henry remarked, “and she’s sure good at it.”
 
Indeed, Alison was good. She had a firm grip and dragged Carmella around unmercifully, slamming her butt and hips and thighs into tables and chairs, pushing her back and forth almost at will for perhaps half a minute. Each time Carmella hit something, she groaned.
 
I’d never got excited about hair pulling before.  That was for subbies and fluff balls, but to see Alison control and dominate Carmella, to see her slam the dancing slut into the furniture, made my stomach flutter.  It had flipped over when I watched Alison recover from that powerful knee blow.  I had to think of icebergs as I saw her drive Carmella almost to her knees.  I clenched my fists, willing Alison to rise up over her foe, to force her to kneel, and Alison was on track to do just that.
 
All the time Carmella scrabbled furiously, trying to latch onto Alison or at least her clothes. Finally she succeeded, grabbing Alison’s shell. She yanked so hard the shell ripped and Alison staggered.
 
That was all Carmella needed. She grabbed a fistful of Alison’s hair, and a moment later she had two fistfuls. She and Alison began tugging hair. They were evenly matched.  Carmella’s much longer hair was easier to grab and manipulate, but Carmella’s extra height – at least with her heels on – cancelled that advantage.
 
The two women slowly danced around the area between the stage and the tables, yanking and pulling at each other’s hair, groaning gasping and swearing. Alison tried to slam Carmella into a table again, but Carmella sidestepped. She pulled Alison forward and the dance went on. Alison yanked on Carmella’s hair, bending her forward once more.
 
I bit my lip to stop myself calling out encouragement to Alison.  I so wanted to see her totally handle Carmella, to destroy the dancer slut so she’d never make eyes at an attached man again. And she was doing just that. I glanced over at Britney.  She was glassy eyed.  She had her hand down Henry’s trousers stroking him. Again, I had to think of icebergs as my stomach churned at the sight. I felt myself becoming almost too deliciously moist,
 
Alison shoved a gasping, wincing Carmella into some chairs.  Carmella groaned, but regained her balance.  She kicked Alison’s legs. Alison yelped and stumbled. Carmella yanked on Alison’s hair.
 
It seemed the tide was beginning to change. Alison’s groans told us that Carmella had taken the advantage.  Her extra height gave her leverage, which she used to pull Alison around. Now it was her turn to slam Alison into the furniture.
 
Alison’s feet scrabbled on the floor. She got just enough purchase to swing her foe around and avoid hitting the chairs. Still, she’d been dragged around and almost lost her footing. She recovered and pulled Carmella forward, trying to drive the dancer past her and onto a table, but she was too ambitious and Carmella's shoulder cannoned into her ribs. Alison stumbled.
 
Carmella rose to her full height and yanked on Alison's hair fiercely.  Alison gasped, stumbled again and sank to her knees, still just holding the tips of Carmella’s hair.
 
The dancer bent over her opponent, ready to deal a finishing blow.  Then, “Oophhh!!!” Carmella suddenly groaned.  Alison had head butted her in the stomach. 
 
Alison was quickly on her feet again, and just as quickly she got a good grip on Carmella’s hair. She yanked, pulling, twisting back and forth, while Carmella battled to recover her breath. Alison dragged the dancer forward, bent her over and slammed her knee into Carmella’s stomach. I smirked as Alison gave the slut a taste of her own medicine. This was so good!
 
“Alison’s quick,” Edward smiled, “and tough, just like you!”  He fondled my stomach.  I squirmed, I was more than moist by then. I rubbed up against him as I writhed in my set, trying to get more comfortable.  I really needed a quick bathroom break, to wash my face in cold water, to dry myself off underneath, but I wasn't going there, not when I wanted to see Alison destroy this dancer! Edward turned, he smiled and kissed me deeply. He’d forgotten Carmella had all but hit on him.
 
When I looked back again though, I saw the dancer wasn’t finished. She struggled upright again and fired a hard left fist into Alison’s midriff. Alison reeled, her arms windmilling, spit spraying from her mouth. She doubled up when Carmella's right fist drove just as deeply into almost the same place.
 
I groaned.  I knew just how a horrid, hard, savage belly blow like that hurt, how its force drove almost every other thought out of your mind, how it so weakened you. I'd suffered them way too often. But I knew too, the horrid need for that pain – how it flared those horrid, wicked fires of lust within me.  Those fires kindled sympathetically right then, as I saw Alison struggle to put some distance between herself and Carmella.
 
Bethany cackled.  “Stupid whore. Alison thought the fight was all but over. Now Carmella’s gonna show her!”  Instead though, Carmella doubled over spluttering, as Allison sent a solid fist into her midriff.
 
Carmella broke away. She stood panting for a moment. Alison, moving more freely than the dancer, came after her, firing punches. Carmella parried most of them but seemed too tired to counter attack now. Alison kept at her, trying to hit harder, trying to break through Carmella's defences with a heavy slugging blow, the kind that would end the fight. Carmella didn’t give her the chance.  She just hunkered down, making herself a small target, blocking, weaving and dodging. 
 
“Go on!  Go on, take it to her!” I whispered, encouraging Allison, “You've got her! She's worn out!”  As though she heard my comment, Alison grabbed a fistful of Carmella's hair and yanked her off0balance, then threw herself bodily onto the dancer. The two girls went to the floor with Alison on top.
 
“Yes!” I cheered Alison on.
 
Carmella rolled, wrapping an arm round Allison, trying to force her off. Allison pushed down, using her weight. “Stay down, bitch!”
 
The brunette punched at Alison's side. She braced herself with her right hand on the floor, pushed up and to her left, almost tipping Alison off her as she started to roll, but Alison locked her arm round Carmella's waist. Carmella tried to scissor Alison's waist but Alison slammed her knee into Carmella's side twice.  Carmella's grip slackened.
 
Alison rolled her foe onto her back.  She plunged her fist deep into the dancer's gut.  “Payback's a bitch…bitch!” she sxxxxxxxed.  She punctuated the second blow with, “do to others what they do to you!” and third with
“only do it more often and do it better!”  Each time Carmella groaned, each time spit and air sprayed from her mouth.
 
“Oh yes! Yes!” I gasped, Alison had as good as won. I gasped again as Edward flicked my nipples. I whimpered.  They were so hard.  My stomach heaved and I shook from a mini orgasm. I tried to think of icebergs, of anything except my own excitement at the dancer slut's impending destruction.
 
“Get a grip, Melissa!”  Britney hissed at me. She should talk, I thought.
But my eyes went back to the fight as Alison’s attempt to straddle Carmella failed, as the dancer swung her legs up, hammering Alison's back. Carmella rolled, grabbed Alison as the older woman almost lost her balance. The two girls rolled around slapping and kicking. After a long moment, Carmella broke away and got to her feet first.
 
Both girls’ faces were marked with, scratches, cuts and the start of bruises. Carmella's dress was torn in a few places. Alison's coat was missing buttons, her shell torn almost in two, hanging open, exposing her heaving breasts within a flimsy lacy bra. Both were panting, gasping for air.
 
Carmella attacked first with a barrage of lightish punches. Alison responded, and within a few seconds they were standing upright, breathing heavily , again trading blows.  Neither tried to dodge, instead parrying or ducking.
 
Alison deflected more than Carmella and Alison's heavier blows seemed to hit harder and cause – to judge from Carmella's gaps and groans – more damage than the dancer's returns.  It was so good to see the slut get punished.
 
Then the dancer began to defend better.  She turned aside, stepped back, dodged, her face as she tried to defend against Alison's onslaught.  I watched Alison pressure her foe with punches to her body. I heard Carmella's rasping breath, intermingled with groans as one of Alison's punches did even more damage to her. Gasping and whimpering with excitement, I squirmed in my chair watching Carmella backing away, her face almost beet-red, desperately defending.
 
“Come on girl!  Fight back!”
 
I glared at Britney.  “You can't want that man-stealing whore to win!”
 
“Better than that prissy, stuck up 'A-lister'!” she snarled, throwing one of my own expressions back at me.  “She doesn’t even talk to the likes of you and me!”
 
I glared at Britney again. “Well, who's winning?”
 
Britney reddened and looked away. She didn’t even want to see the fight as Alison drove Carmella back with hard, well-aimed punches. I smiled and gripped Edward's waist tightly as Alison's punches hit home.  Yes, Carmella defended well.  Not even half Alison's blows hit home, but far fewer than half of Carmella's hit, and Carmella continued to retreat.
 
I groaned with frustration as Carmella pressed a counterattack.  She had stepped back a little faster than the older woman expected.  Alison’s attempted hook shot just kissed the dancer's face.  Before Alison could regroup, Carmella's fist got under Alison's guard, striking her hard on the side. Alison grunted, then stumbled back as Carmella uppercut struck her chin. Spit and even a bit of blood rushed from Alison's mouth.
 
I dug my nails into my palms, squirmed and whimpered in Edward’s lap, fearing Carmella's aggression. I had almost felt that shot to the head.  I knew how it would hurt, how it would stun for a second or so. I glared at Britney, who excitedly cheered Carmella on.
 
Alison retreated.  She blocked Carmella's next attempted blow and struck back with a punch of her own. It missed as Carmella too retreated, but that didn't matter. She'd seen off Carmella's rally and returned to her own attack, once again firing solid well placed shots.
 
Again Carmella blocked some, but not all. She edged back and back. I clung to Edward for fear I'd slip off his lap, onto my knees on the floor. My body shook.  I gasped for air as I watched Alison slowly, methodically press her attack.  I knew she must be tired.  I guessed that was why she was slower, but it didn't matter now.  She was driving the dancer back, further and further.
 
I flashed a quick glance to Britney whose face was ashen, whose breath faltered as Alison broke through Carmella's faltering defence.  I moaned too, conjuring up images of icebergs, trying to calm myself as Alison feinted with a punch to her foe's head. 
 
Carmella brought her arms up to defend, but Alison dropped down and fired a left-right combo into Carmella's gut. Carmella all but doubled up.  Her legs buckled.
 
I whimpered, shaking with excitement.  I could almost feel the fist ploughing into the dancer’s belly.  I knew how much that would have hurt the dancing, man-stealing slut – just how much it would weaken her. I shivered with elation too, knowing how Alison would feel, knowing she was on the cusp of victory.
 
She followed that punch with a few more. Carmella defended, but her defence was weakening fast. It wouldn’t be long before she was on the ground, totally destroyed.
 
It just got better.  Alison showed her tactical skill by shepherding the dancer trash toward the tables and chairs with solid, slogging blows. Carmella continued defending as well as she could, stopping more of Alison’s blows, even firing a few of her own, though Alison brushed those aside. Alison’s few punches that hit hammered Carmella. The dancer gasped and groaned.
 
“That bitch is pulling her punches,” Edward said abruptly. “She’s trying to prolong the punishment.” He shook his head.
 
“The slut deserves nothing less!” I snapped back. “Ouch!” I twisted on his lap, “Oooh! Edward!” He’d ground his knuckles into my belly painfully.
 
“Hush, you,” He clamped his other hand over my mouth, ”or I’ll put you over my knee and spank you!. Watch the fight!” He chuckled, “I know just how much you’re enjoying seeing Alison work Carmella over. You’re so wet you’re leaking onto my trousers.”
 
I pouted, but he kissed me and fondled my stomach some more. I did as he said and watched the fight.  After all, he was right.  I did so want to see Alison work Carmella over.
 
He was also right about Alison stringing the fight out. I’d done the same thing sometimes, when I wanted to completely break a bitch, or when I wanted to prove to people that I was indeed a Goddess. I remembered briefly how I’d done both when I fought Tina, poolside a few years ago, when I first met Arthur Wellesley. Of course, there was absolutely nothing wrong with making a bitch like Carmella or Tina suffer.  They deserved it and it was so rewarding.  it had made me so deliciously wet then, just like it was doing now, just watching Alison punish Carmella.
 
It got better still – I almost came. Carmella’s face turned ashen when her ass bumped against a table. She glanced around to see what she’d hit. She knew Alison had her trapped. In that very moment, Alison’s fist powered into the dancer’s unprotected gut. Carmella folded over, spluttering, clutching her gut.
 
“No girl, don’t you even think of cumming now!”  Edward hissed in my ear as my body shook.  “I want you all worked up for later!”  He clamped his hand over my mouth again. I bit my lip, tensed my body, dug my nails into my palms.  I even ground one heel into the top of my other foot before the storm of lust subsided.

For a few moments, Alison slapped Carmella's face – it was an easy target. Carmella yelped as the slaps rained down.  She tried to deflect them, because she had no way to dodge. She tried to punch it out. Both ploys failed. Alison dodged Carmella's attempts. Alison mixed her slaps up with punches. She sent another to Carmella's gut. Carmella folded over gain. She almost fell onto the table behind her. She groaned and whimpered.
 
Alison waited a couple of seconds, till Carmella righted herself, before driving her fist into Carmella’s stomach again. Once more Carmella doubled forward. “It’s not over till I say it’s over, whore!” Alison spat, yanking Carmella up by the hair. “And I won’t be saying that for a while,” she added, cackling. She slapped Carmella’s face repeatedly as she mocked her. “Dance your way out of this, slut!  You pathetic, skinny, puny weakling.” She sent another slap at the reeling dancer.  “Go on, hustle the tables for money now…if you can get past me, that is!”
 
“Alison!” The guy she’d been with – the one Britney had identified as Will Beresfield – called out. “Stop it!  Stop toying with her!”
 
“I’ll finish when I’m finished, and not before!” Alison rounded on him. She yanked Carmella’s hair and slapped her hard, “You won’t lap-dance with Will again!”  She continued slapping and taunting Carmella.
 
“What a bitch!” Henry said.
 
“Sadistic,” Britney added haughtily.
 
“No!” I replied.  I wasn't about to publicly admit that Alison was being cruel.  “Carmella's getting what she deserves!” I forced a smile as Alison continued her taunts and repeated stinging slaps that rocked Carmella, snapping the dancer’s face from side to side.
 
Then Alison reeled back, gasping. Carmella had punched her in the stomach.  Alison, as astonished as I was, staggered, her hands clasped to her belly.
 
“The stupid bitch paid the price.  She thought Carmella was finished.” Britney giggled. “But she was only playing possum.”
 
While Carmella broke free from Alison's trap, the older woman returned to the attack quickly, firing punches. I frowned though.  Was she still as quick? Was she puffing, almost wheezing? Were her movements just a little slower? I shook my head.  I was probably stressing. She was still scoring more blows and still moving just as freely as Carmella.
 
She stepped forward, trying to launch some heavy blows, but Carmella avoided them and struck back. Alison defended too, deflecting all of Carmella's punches.  The two women again traded blows for a while, neither of them scoring a winning shot.
 
“Your bitch is tiring!” Britney chortled, echoing my fears. I watched.  This time it was clearer.  Alison was puffing, her movements were laboured. I tightened my grip on my fingers – I still had both hands wrapped around Edward's neck as I wriggled on his lap – willing Alison to stay the course.
 
“Maybe but she's softening her up,” Edward said.  He stroked my hair as we watched Alison score a flurry of light blows that sent Carmella stumbling back. Alison must have known she needed to finish the dancer off. She struck again with a hard, straight jab but Carmella neatly sidestepped it and the punch just kissed her side. Alison hissed in frustration and fired another at Carmella's face. Carmella ducked the punch, leaving Alison stretched out – vulnerable.
 
I felt sick as, almost in slow motion, I saw Carmella's fist lash out, striking Alison's stomach hard. I knew how devastating such a punch would be to a tired fighter. I knew how sick Alison would feel, almost nauseous, how breathless she'd be, how for a moment her body would go slack before the pain hit her.  After all, I'd been in her shoes more than once.
 
Suddenly and uncontrollably, the internal fires ignited again, consuming my will. I battled to check them, not to disgrace myself as I watched Carmella attack, and saw Alison's defence crumble. She tried to regroup and for a moment she was even successful, blocking the first few of the dancer's punches, even striking back, till again Carmella bobbed down when Alison fired a heavy blow, again the dancer retaliated, again slamming her fist into Alison’s unprotected stomach.
 
I knew Alison's ribs, her stomach, her whole torso would burn when she tried to take a deep breath, the kind of breath she needed to recover.  I knew too her mind would be so focused on the searing pain that she'd be hard pressed to concentrate on the fight.  Again, I'd been in her shoes.
 
And so it proved. Carmella's attack was unrelenting and Alison’s defence dissolved. Carmella brushed aside Alison’s attempts to fight back, almost contemptuously, scoring almost at will now, striking the older woman’s chest and face. Another fist slammed into Alison’s stomach, spittle sprayed from her mouth, her face fixed in horror as she in turn stumbled against some furniture.
 
Her anguished, horrified look told everyone that Carmella had her right where she herself had had Carmella a few moments ago.  But now Alison was far more tired, far more hurt and far more battered than the dancer had been. She realized, belatedly, that Carmella was fitter, stronger and more agile than she was.
 
Of course, she should have thought of that earlier.  I would have known that dancers have to be fit, supple and strong, but I’m Melissa Windeyer. Even I though, Melissa Windeyer, couldn’t help but be affected by Alison’s anguished plight. She had deserved to win, she should have put the man- stealing, pole-dancing whore on the floor at her feet.  Instead, she was about to be destroyed.  I writhed and moaned in Edward’s lap at the thought, as the fires of lust – lust for pain, lust for sexual release – erupted within me.
 
Alison’s white face told us all she knew her doom approached.  Carmella’s left fist flew upwards in an uppercut aimed at Alison’s chin.  Alison parried it, but not the thundering punch that hammered her stomach yet again. And yet again I saw it as if in slow motion, I knew that Alison wouldn’t react quickly enough to deflect the blow.  It struck, Alison’s entire body trembled for a second, then her legs gave out and she slid to her knees.
 
I moaned out loud.  I couldn’t help it.  My navel radiated heat, the heat moved lower, I was horridly excited and aroused. I knew the fight was over. I knew the girl I’d cheered for had lost, and I writhed, imagining the torture she was about to receive. My body bucked until Edward clamped down on me again.  “You are not to cum, Melissa!”  I struggled to obey.
 
My eyes bugged as I saw Carmella kick Alison in the stomach.  Spit poured out of Alison’s mouth I desperately strived to prevent the impending orgasm I felt building within me. I clung to Edward’s neck, pressed my body against his.  He clamped me even closer, belly to belly, crushing my breasts on his chest. I held my breath till I felt my body relax again. All that had taken less time than it took Alison’s body to buck and tremble, to sway so that Alison almost collapsed onto her hands and knees.
 
“Kiss my foot, slut!” Carmella insisted.
 
“No,” croaked Alison.
 
“You will, slut!” Carmella kicked her again. This time Alison did collapse onto all fours. She raised her tear-streaked face and slowly bent over until she kissed Carmella’s foot. 
 
Carmella smirked. “So much for your tough speech.  I’m saying the fight finishes now.”  With that, she kicked Alison hard, flipping the weeping older woman onto her back. Carmella winked at Will. “You thought she was a nasty bitch, earlier,” she chortled, “but she’s met her match!  I'm an even nastier bitch!” She ground her stiletto heel into her sobbing enemy's belly.
 
The fires in me erupted. I felt the terror, the anguish as Alison's body convulsed in pain – so did my own, in sympathy with her pain but even more so with my own lust. Carmella was a cruel evil sadistic bitch – but a powerful, winning bitch!  I shivered. Maybe she was still ‘Mistress Carmella’ after all.
 
Edward's hand clamped over my mouth again. “You are not to cum girl!” he repeated, his voice low but commanding.  “I want you fresh and horny for me.”  I gasped, trembling.
 
Carmella turned and stepped toward Will, caught him in her arms and kissed him. For a moment he faltered, then his hands reached for her butt, pulling her close. Then, hand in hand, he took her over to the washrooms. She went inside and he walked over to the bar.
 
I knew I should go and help the weeping, trembling Alison.  I should help her up, clean her up. She’d be grateful, and if she was what Britney told me she was, she’d be a perfect link to the A-list world to which I belonged.  She could be a helping hand, assisting me to climb to my rightful place.
 
But I couldn’t do it. I was so needy, so desperate for a fuck that I couldn’t get back to the hotel room soon enough. I struggled to keep from cumming, just looking at her.  My stomach seethed and churned.  Edward touched it, tugging on my piercing. My knees went weak. I grabbed hold of his arm and he led me stumbling from the room. I wanted to wail, to lament my lost chance, but the only sound I emitted was the low moan of a bitch on heat.
 
It was only a few minutes till we arrived back in the hotel suite, but it seemed like an eternity. I wanted to jump Edward the moment he opened the door, or better still have him slam me against the wall. Neither happened. Instead he pinioned my arms behind me and held me tight while Britney and Henry stepped inside and closed the door.
 
“Melissa Windeyer…three-time loser!” Britney giggled, repeating what she’d said earlier in the day. “First time, I got your top…I think I’ll keep it too, it will look so good on my ‘I love me’ wall.” She slipped her hand inside my blouse and began kneading my stomach. I moaned, my legs turned to jelly, and I’d have fallen except for Edward’s grip.
 
I yelped suddenly as Britney twisted my piercing hard. “Second time, I got you off Edward’s shoulders.” Britney fumbled with the buckle on my belt, then with my skirt.  It slid to the floor. Again, she played with my stomach. I writhed with frustration, with unsatisfied lust.  I so desperately needed a fuck.
 
“All..I know…in good fun.” Britney kissed me deeply. “But then…third…you backed the wrong woman, back there in the club. Carmella thrashed Alison! And good luck to her too.”
 
Britney looked at the two guys.  “So…what are we gonna do with a three-time loser? This!” She yanked my panties down to my knees and, without warning, thrust three fingers right into my leaking pussy! My back arched instinctively and I ground down on her, without even thinking. I bayed at the ceiling like a wolf. My hips bucked and in just seconds, I came hard on her fingers, gushing – no, more that, squirting my juices into her hand
 
Edward let go of my arms, I dropped to my hands and knees on the carpet, still gasping from the force of my orgasm. Before I knew anything, he was gripping my waist from behind.  Henry appeared in front of me – naked.  I knew what he wanted.  Before he said anything – before he commanded me – my mouth was already open, welcoming his member.
 
The two guys spit-roasted me, Henry in my mouth, and Edward in my pussy, taking me deep from either end.  Britney knelt at my side, reaching beneath me, playing with my nipples, my stomach, my piercing.  She was gentle at first, but as the men settled into a rapid, forceful rhythm, she began to get rougher with me, viciously squeezing and twisting my so sensitive nipples, driving her fingers deep into my navel.  My pussy clamped down on Edward’s shaft as I moaned and wailed with lust around Henry’s cock.
 
I came so hard and so often as the guys took me, it was all I could do to stay on all fours. I couldn’t give Henry the blow-job he deserved, the head for which Melissa Windeyer is – within a select circle of course – justly famous.  Nevertheless, it wasn’t long before both the guys came in me.
 
When they were done, Britney shoved me hard. I was too spent to offer any resistance, and I collapsed on my side.  She rolled me onto my back, crawled up over me, spreading my legs, and lowered her own pussy onto my face. We licked each other, cumming repeatedly till I was exhausted. She was so ravenous that eventually I had to beg her to stop.
 
She got up and stood, giggling, with her foot on my belly. “I could grind you, you know…just like Carmella did to Alison.”
 
“Don’t even say that,” I gasped.  I knew she was only teasing, but my body shook at the mere thought of it.
 
“Carmella was vicious,” Edward said, helping me up. I sat – naked – on his lap.
 
“She didn’t do anything that Alison hasn’t done before,” added Henry.  “I had a quick word with Will Beresford at the bar, just before we left. He was buying some champagne for Carmella. He wasn’t that sorry to see Alison lose.”
 
He patted Britney, who was sitting his lap, naked like me.  “From what you, the barman and Will told me, she’s even more vicious than Carmella.  She fights a lot. She usually wins, and she savages her enemies when she does. He shook his head, “Will’s a bit like us…watching girls fight is a real turn on for him. But if he told the truth, I think he’s had his eye on Carmella.”
 
“She’s just a slut!” I burst out, indignant.  “A good time girl!  She’s just out for whatever she can get out of guys!”
 
“Oh, just like…” Edward looked from Britney to me. I shivered, remembering Britney’s words before we showered on the beach – how, at best, we might be mistresses to guys like him.
 
Henry broke the awkward silence.  “Carmella put her body on the line for him…that showed how determined she was to get him. You girls put your bodies on the line when you fought the Bernard sisters. I’m sure Edward, in particular, is very grateful. The photos those sisters took could have been…well, very embarrassing.”
 
“Indeed I am!” Edward slapped my butt playfully. “And I’m going to show you just how grateful I am…right now.” He lifted me off his lap and got up.  “Come with me, Melissa.”
 
He led me into the bedroom, where he kissed me, played with me till I was nothing more than a mewling puddle of lust, then took me again.  I fell asleep in his arms.
 
During the night I woke. I teased Edward till he woke up too. He smiled and sat me on his lap. I lowered myself onto him, my legs around his waist, his hands lifting and lowering me onto him, making slow, languid love.
 
I heard a movement, but ignored it till I suddenly felt hands on my shoulders, gripping them firmly, leaning me back so my head was on the sheets, my back arched, my boobs pushed up. I saw Britney kneeling over me.  She smiled down at me, and started kissing my breasts, licking my tummy as Henry – it was him who’d held my shoulders – eased himself into my mouth.  I came within seconds and I set off Henry and Edward too. 
 
It was the perfect finish to a perfect weekend.  I’d staked my claim to Kelsey, brought Britney closer to me, and I had a good feeling that Edward and I were going to be something special.  For the second time that night, I fell asleep cuddled happily in Edward’s arms.

My thanks to all who helped me and particularly to the inspiration of part 3 the lovely Carmella

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Blondes are cool Brunettes are Hot!!

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Offline SunnyB

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Re: SCUFFLES, STRUGGLES AND SEX ON THE STRAND
« Reply #3 on: August 16, 2019, 01:35:22 PM »
Fabulous story ... a classic!  :P ;D

- Sonny
Proudly butch and living as a 'man'. In this catfight fantasy there are no losers, and in the end all should be winners!