Anjali and Mike first appear in Family Ritual https://www.freecatfights.com/forums/index.php?topic=87877.0. Thanks again to Wives fighting (https://www.freecatfights.com/forums/index.php?action=profile;u=33206) for the background to this fight.Anjali loved the way she felt in this dress. “Why don’t we do this more often?” she asked Mike, as she turned right, and then left, in front of the hotel room mirror.
He loved how she looked. The dress she’d packed was rather daring, a silk sheath that hugged her figure and flashed quite a lot of cleavage, especially for a professional function, but how could he object? She was stunning, her black hair loose, her dark skin glowing against the midnight blue of the dress. With a strand of pearls and silver bracelets, she was his goddess.
OK, one thing he did have to question.
“No underwear?”
“It’s silk, baby. The lines would show. Tacky!”
They had been married less than six months. The honeymoon wasn’t over yet. She saw the bulge in his slacks. She reached under her hair on the back of her neck to unclasp her halter and the dress cascaded down over her body, rippling like a silk waterfall.
“We can be late,” she purred. They were.
The event was a global meeting of the multinational company that Mike worked for. There were probably five hundred attendees plus significant others. The huge ballroom of the hotel was crowded as they circulated with their drinks. Anjali charmed everyone she met. She showed off her ring, a lovely diamond, and told lies of how well she got on with her new mother-in-law.
“Fuck,” said Mike. “Peri’s here.”
If normal people can be said to have a nemesis, Mike’s nemesis was definitely Peri. They came from the same village in Sri Lanka, from rival families, two sons of the same age. It was only after adulthood that Mike learned that his mother, Meera, had fought Peri’s mother more than once to settle disputes. Meera never lost a fight - until Anjali - but Peri had generally bested Mike. Better at school, better at sports, and now, working for the same multinational, risen higher in rank.
At Peri’s shoulder was his wife, Augusta. She was Portuguese, her hair thick and brown, her skin an olive bronze. She wore a stunning dark yellow gown, slit up her leg and down her neckline. Her breasts moved freely under it.
Anjali saw where Mike looked, and saw his cock was hard again. Her nipples stiffened under their silk cups. She knew about Peri and their rivalry, but this wife was new to her, and she did not care for Mike’s reaction to her. She took his arm, pressing her breast into it, to remind him she was there and took second to no woman.
The two couples met, shook hands, conversed cordially, about business, travel, life. Both marriages were still fairly new, so it was a topic. Augusta was sure to display her ring, with its bigger diamond. She was equally careful to display her bigger breasts. Anjali hated the bitch within minutes.
The evening wore on. Drinks, then dinner. The two couples were not seated together at a table, but they were not far apart, and the luck of their positions was such so that when either woman looked at her husband she had only to shift her eyes a fraction to see the other couple. Anjali had perhaps a bit too much wine. During dessert, she slid her hand under the napkin on Mike’s lap and unzipped him. Her smile never changed, so when she brought her lips near his ear, the others at the table just smiled along at the sweet newlyweds who whispered sweet nothings to each other still. Only Mike - and Augusta - could tell that she was stroking his cock.
“I saw that whore make you hard,” Anjali whispered. “And not half an hour after fucking me! Do you want to fuck her, Mike?” She squeezed him hard. “Fucking Peri’s wife - that would be an amazing way to top him, yes?” She was closer to the truth than Mike was comfortable admitting. He kissed her, softly. “I only want you,” he told her.
Anjali briefly turned her hand to lift the napkin. She showed his cock to Augusta, the thin strand of pre-cum across her dark fingers caught the light before the napkin fell back into place.
“Another way to top him,” Anjali purred in his ear, “would be for your wife to beat his wife in a catfight.” Mike nearly came in her hand at that; she squeezed his cockhead to still him. Anjali’s brutal fight with Meera before they were married had awakened the cat in her, and she knew the mere mention of a catfight drove him mad with desire. This setting, this other couple, the long rivalry between the husbands, the instant heat between the wives . . . Anjali had to surreptitiously slide her own napkin under her skirt so that the wet spreading in her pussy didn’t soak the silk. This, only Augusta saw.
Anjali stood, and walked past Augusta on her way to the ladies room. The other brunette spoke to her table, and followed. They were alone in the toilet. Augusta clicked the lock on the inside of the door. They each faced the mirror, side by side, to touch up lipstick.
“Peri told me you were the talk of his little hometown,” Augusta said. “Your primitive behavior, fighting an old woman. His mother never challenged me. I think she knew better.”
“That sounds like an excuse,” Anjali said. “On your part.”
“What is your excuse for the way your husband eye-fucked my tits when he met me?” Augusta asked. Anjali drew her breath in sharply.
“Our men hate each other, for good reasons - they have a history,” Anjali said. “You, I just met.” She turned to Augusta, and slid her hand into the neckline of her dress, digging her nails into her breast. “And yet I want nothing more tonight than to whip your fat ass, with our dear husbands watching.”
There was a rattle at the door, then a knock.
Augusta slapped Anjali’s bust, knocking her left nipple into her open neckline, and catching it between her thumb and fingers.
“I’m sure we can find a suitably private place,” she snarled.
They held their grips, dark eyes locked, breathing hard. The woman at the door knocked again. After a moment, they left together, their faces revealing nothing. Both Peri and Mike watched them walk back to their chairs, their stiff nipples obvious. Augusta spoke into Peri’s ear; he nodded and left the table.
“What is going on?” Mike whispered.
“He’s been sent to find a place,” Anjali said. She sipped her wine. It was excellent.