[Vengeance]

Long time listener, first time caller. Thought it was time to contribute to the community I’ve gleamed so much from.



My “neighbor”, I call her, click clacks down the hallway in her stilettos with the confidence of a lion on the Serengeti. She walks with purpose, likely returning from the copy machine. I drift away into thought as she arrives and we stand guard at our respective doors awaiting passing period.  Her form fitting red dress obviously chosen to match her dreadlocks is quite distracting.

“Hey Ms Jackson.”

“Hey neighbor, you got bible study this evening pastor?”

Her mother named her aptly because Sparkle’s eyes light up as she engages me in conversation. She can be quite the flirt. The bell rings and the hallway floods with teenagers.

“No ma’am, just decided to step up my attire today.  Trying to be like you!  I see you have on the heals with the legs out. Don’t hurt nobody today.”

“I make no promises...”

After the short bit of laughter, a commotion disrupts the pleasant moment.  A crowd is forming near the stairwell and raised voices begin to draw attention. A common ritual in our urban setting as hormones, tight quarters, and gossip create an explosive cocktail. Two young ladies are circling each other like predators ready to pounce. Just as it was starting to get interesting Mari comes along shaking a canister she pulled from her vest. 

“Move along, nothing to see here. I know y’all don’t want this Cayenne all up in the atmosphere. Get to class!”

The herd begins to disperse and matriculate into various classrooms.  Sparkle and I are “messy”, so we’re checking with our informants for the details as to who was squaring up and what caused the tension.  Ms. Jackson has a special relationship with the youth so they talk to her almost like a big sister or a favorite aunt. She has the information in a matter of minutes, so as the students clear the hall and engage in their bell ringer activities, we hang back in the space between our doors to exchange notes.  We wave and smile at Mrs. Roberson as she saunters down toward the office. Ikyra smiles back and offers in a southern accent, “Looks like we might be in for a wild one today...” Sparkle chuckles and says, “I bet they skipped their meds this morning, blood sugar is low, or something”.  Ikyra displayed here dimples and curled her full red lips in acknowledgment as she kept walking toward her classroom. I pause to take in the view from behind as her hips switch in the snug black pencil skirt slightly overlapped by a mint green blouse. Her hair flows freely as she sways toward her destination.  I snap back as Ms. Jackson begins.

“Word on the street, Carmelita and Ivy were about to fight.”

“Carmelita! Isn’t she in line for salutatorian?”

“Yeah, but you know she has a temper.”

“She certainly does. I heard she has hands, too!” Insinuating that she has a reputation for being efficient in her fighting skills.

“I’ve seen it!”

“For real where? When? I don’t remember her getting in trouble.”

“You know I’ve got the plug on the videos!” Sparkle does that thing with her eyes.  “One of the kiddos showed me a YouTube of her stomping some chick that graduated two years ago this Summer. Apparently old girl showed up at Carmelita’s house and told her to come outside.  Ms. Carmelita was about that action.”

“Really? You think she’s got something for Ivy? You know she was a pretty solid sprinter before she transferred out and came back.  She’s been hanging with a different crowd recently, but Ivy is still an athlete.”

“I don’t know, remember Carmelita played basketball too.”

“You’re right! You said you have the video? “

“I’ve got you, let me find it and I’ll text it to you.”

“Bet!”

We closed our doors and I set my mind to the Venetian market economy of the Italian Renaissance, however the buzz over the conflict in the hallway hadn’t subsided yet.  While taking attendance at my desk I over heard two students reflecting on the source of tensions.

“Why are they funking, is it over a dude? ”

“Not that I know of? I think Carmelita just don’t like Ivy? She said she thinks she the shit after she came back from Holman Charter.”

“Ivy do be mean mugging for no reason!  She look like she think she better than someone. Uh, she get on my nerves!” 

“From what I heard ‘Lita caught her staring in class last hour and said ‘Problem?’ They kept looking at each other, almost like a challenge, then when they came out in the hallway. Ivy said ‘what’s that shit you was talking?’”

“She should’ve hit her!”

I got what I needed by ease dropping and politely reminded the pair of the lesson at hand.  As I was getting up to teach the buzz of a notification caught my attention. It was a text from Sparkle with a link.  Carmelita came out of her house after being confronted by a similarly statured, 20 year old, heavily tattooed woman from the neighborhood. A crowd had formed and after the shrieks of women arguing, Carmelita bounded from the porch and latched on to the woman’s hair.  It lasted about 40 seconds but the younger combatant yanked her opponents micro-braids with her left and and began whaling on her with a closed right fist.  The woman tried her best to counter by scratching and pulling at the neck line of Carmelita’s tank top, but it had little effect.  The honor student’s left hand controlled her head and the the right hand was pumping away like an oil derrick drilling for a gusher.  The woman covered up, assumed the fetal position and was obviously crying. The community pried Carmelita from her hair while the right hand that had drawn blood was restrained. 

“Oh! I see! She does indeed have hands.”  I texted back, flourishing with a few extra emojis. I stood up and got to work.

The lesson was decent, not the best but mildly engaging, and the class period came to an end.  Everyone flooded back into the hall and I placed the wedge underneath the door to prop it open.  I moved to the midpoint of the wall between the two classrooms and stood shoulder to significantly shorter shoulder with Ms. Jackson to deconstruct the events of the video and update each other on our discoveries.  I was about to reveal the silent competition between the two seniors when Sparkle exclaimed, “They fought!”

“What! During class? “

“Yeah, in the bathroom.  Apparently they inboxed each other suggesting they ask to go to the restroom.  They both arrived and locked horns.”

“How’d you find out? Is there another video?”

“No, sadly.  But I called Mari at the security desk to come remove a student from my room. She said they were a little tied up at the moment.  You know my nosey self asked what’s going on?“

“What did you find out?”

“She saw them arrive separately at the bathroom from the eye in the sky, and rushed up to the second floor to investigate.  When she arrived they were in a ball on the bathroom floor up against the walk under the sink. Hair was everywhere and clothes were torn.  She said she sat there and watched for two or three minutes as the struggle for top position continued.  They called each other all types of bitches and tramps as they clawed and gouged at faces and necks. Mari finally radioed for back up, when help arrived shortly they pulled the young ladies apart.  From the marks on them and weave missing it looked pretty even. Mari is a mess, you hear me?”

“Yo! That’s crazy!”

“She said she’s going to let me see the footage when they arrived at the bathroom and when they drug them out. She said they were still trying to get at each other.”

“It ain’t settled yet, whoa, let me know when you see the tape.” 

“I’m heading down now for planning period.”

“Cool, I’ll see you later.”

She locked her door and walked away with her distinctive click clacking heals, and her crimson locks bouncing off of her exposed bronze shoulders.  She descends the stairs and is finally out of sight, so my trance is broken and I can get back to work. 

Correction, Ikyra is leaving her class for break so we chat for a bit.  I have a difficult time reminding myself she’s married when she has her hair pulled back from her face, the lip gloss is popping and beauty mark on her right cheek is exposed.  It didn’t help that the blouse was unbuttoned from the top giving a nice view of her large swaying breasts. 

“Did you hear that those girls went ahead and fought?”

“Really?” Ikyra asked as she leaned in with intrigue.  “Ivy was just in my class, I sent her out on a restroom pass, and she didn’t return.  She told me she was having girl problems.”

“Oh, she was having problems all right.  Of a different sort. At least that’s what I heard second hand. Ms. Jackson told me she called security and Mari gave her the run down.”

“Ok, I was headed that way, I’ll see if I can gather some information.”

“Let me know what you find out...”

“Will do!”

With a captivating smile, she turned and headed toward the stairwell. Of course I couldn’t close my door until she was out of sight.  Sigh...Back to class. 

*****

Mrs. Roberson and Ms. Jackson had always been friendly, but it would be inaccurate to characterize them as friends.  I’m not sure what it was, but I think it had to do with the fact that they were both gorgeous black women and were accustomed to a certain level of attention.  Possibly game recognized game and the two realized that a natural competition was expected among attractive women.  But, one was married and the other had a boyfriend and no current need of man.  The thought of a work fling may have crossed their minds, but neither found it wise to shit where you eat (again).  So why were they like the negative sides of two magnets keeping their distance when their age and common interests suggested they should be close?

Ikyra struggled to use her key to open the door to the teachers lounge.  Upon finally opening the door she was surprised to have found Sparkle there.

“Hey Girl, I heard you’ve got all the dirt.”

“Girl, let me tell you! Mari gave me the video, Carmelita and Ivy must’ve been beating each other’s ass in that restroom.“

“Yeah, I sent Ivy out on a pass and I’ve come to find out it was a secret rendezvous.”

“Here look! I’ve got it right here on my phone.”

The two highly educated women nestled next to each other to observe the small screen. They could smell each other’s scent, and feel the weight of their counterparts hips and toned arms. A surge of energy pulsated in their  panties as their breath synchronized in an advanced rhythm observing one girl enter the chosen battlefield, then the other.   The hallway in front of the bathroom was empty for a few minutes until a familiar female security officer arrived and opened the door cautiously. Several minutes passed and then reinforcements arrived. Shortly there after the uniformed peace officers emerged with separate young ladies restrained.  Hair was disheveled, necklines of their garments were stretched and displaced.  Most captivating were the daggers they starred into each other’s soul.  Clearly these two had been tested but were seeking extra credit.   

“There must’ve been a boy!”

“No, from what I’ve been told a staring competition lasted a little too long.”

“Really! That reminds me of me...back in my wild days.”

“You too! I was hell on wheels.  They used to keep a spot for me down in the office because they knew I had a chip on my shoulder, and dared anyone to knock it off.”

“Don’t let the nails and the skirt fool you, I used to thump regularly with these bitches who thought they were tough. I used to love whipping the smile off a bitch face.”

“I didn’t have any problems over boys, or any shit like that, it was the competition for me. The adrenaline rush of meeting up and getting to the bottom of who could whoop whose ass. Oh! I miss it!”

“Yeah, me too. It’s a shame that social constraints dictate that we had to give up fighting. It’s like I’m missing a part of me.”

“There is just something primal and natural about it.  The danger and emotional release. I wish I could have that feeling again.”

Both women’s posture changed. Sparkle lowered the phone and placed it on the nearby table. For a moment the fact that they were mothers or at their mutual place of business vacated their minds.  They turned toward one another and began to truly notice each other. Their eyes locked in an unflinching gaze which Ikyra broke only to size up her colleague. She noticed the veiny arms of a woman who obviously kept in great shape and sharp red nails that would be a weapon in a potential test of womanhood. Her dreadlocks were braided in an intricate design but hung low in the back providing a handle to control her head and subsequently her body if the unthinkable became reality.

Sparkle recognized that look in Ikyra’s eyes, she recognized it in herself.  Had she found a rival who was contemplating what combat would be like if they were to hypothetically entangle?  Not one to be unprepared, Sparkle examined the way Mrs. Roberson’s black skirt outlined a pair of powerful legs.  She spotted cleavage revealing two beautiful breasts with the slightest beads of perspiration beginning to form on them.  Her tits looked like golden targets with the bullseye being the hardened brown nipple that was announcing its presence beneath a laced brazier.  Ms. Jackson felt her own nipples stiffen and instinctively wanted to compare tits to the challenger that stood defiantly before her. 

Already within distance to deliver a head jarring slap, she took a half step forward and found her actions mirrored by her counterpart. They stood there in silence for what seemed like an eternity, resolutely glaring into the windows of each other’s soul. Both women were fixed in a trance with their heartbeat pounding in their ears like tribal drums. Tit to tit and nose to nose it appears this is going to happen right here and right now! Consequences be damned! Two teachers are going to brawl in the teacher’s lounge.

Suddenly the familiar sound of a key attempting to navigate the rusted tumblers of an old lock broke the spell. Maintenance really needs to spray some WD 40 in there. Mari had entered the room with her Bluetooth headphones wedged in her ears and a couple dollars in her non dominant hand in preparation for securing a morning snack from the vending machine. She lifts her head, and kind of cocked it like a hunting dog whose alerted to the rustling of leaves.

“Am I interrupting something?”

The two professionals finally reminded of their surroundings retreated for the time being to act busy and gather their things.

“No, Girl I thought I had something in my eye, I asked Mrs. Robinson to check it out for me.”

Ikyra nodded in agreement and quickly said her halfhearted goodbyes as she exited the room to compose herself.

Sparkle stepped into the staff restroom and closed the door to pull herself together and reflect on what just happened. She was puzzled at how easily she slipped into her old ways and wondered what it was about Mrs. Roberson that got her blood boiling like that? She was really about to attack this woman at work in the middle of the day for who knows what reason. The only thing that stopped her was becoming aware of a coworker.  Was Ikyra really feeling the same way or did I imagine it? She had to be, the way she scurried out of here. Do I hate her? Does she hate me? If it had gone down could I defend myself, it’s been so long since I got in a fight? So many burning questions, one thing she knew is that teachers hate to leave questions unanswered...

[sidekick]

This is really, really good, well written and very exciting. I'm looking forward to reading more.

[Gary53]

I concur with sidekick, I can't wait to read more of this exciting story.

[Vengeance]

When you wake up in the morning and the GOAT sidekick appreciates your story, you write that afternoon.  Much appreciated.

[Vengeance]

Another class period complete. I replace the wedge beneath my door and anticipate the next cohort.  Mrs. Roberson is passing through the hallway unnaturally expeditiously.  I ask her, “did you find anything out?” Ikyra seems startled as if she was interrupted from deep thought.  She is carrying a ream of paper in her arm tucked high and tight like a football away from the copy machine, but no handouts. “Maybe the copy machine is out of toner again”, I muse to myself.  I must admit, I’m a man and sometimes as man, I miss some of the small details.  Probably why I’m getting divorced. Anyway, Ikyra apparently remembered our previous conversation after her snapping back and hurriedly tells me “um, maybe...I’ve gotta run”.  “No problem”, I reply and continue to watch bodies egress from classrooms into the hallway. 

Above the cacophony, stilettos could be distinguished, click clacking in this direction. “Here comes Ms. Jackson”, I think to myself. “Hi neighbor, any new developments?” Sparkle keys into her door, props it open and goes to her desk as if she didn’t hear me. She always walks with purpose, but seems to be on a mission right now.  Again, obliviously, I chalk it up to the noise in the hallway or an errand she was covering. “Oh well” when the bell sounds, it’s back to the old grind. Nothing new here, yup just another plain old ordinary day at CHS, home of the Fighting Wildcats.

Ikyra has been here for a few years, after moving to the Midwest from Georgia. She moved for her husbands job and knew that her credentials as a science teacher would easily transfer.  She preferred urban settings because she liked the clientele and knew that she could be tough enough to keep the kiddos on track where others succumbed to pressure.  Occasionally if your door was open you could hear her reading students the riot act, while the class sat in shock and awe.  Who knew someone so attractive could be that intense?  We had children attending the same elementary school and would often chat during pick-up.  At a low point in my personal relationship, I contemplated pushing for more than casual conversations while collecting our preschool rug rats, but there’s too much respect there for her and her Union.
 
Mrs. Robinson received her class but her thoughts appeared to be scattered and not orderly like students were accustomed to seeing her.  Her facial expressions fluctuated between bewilderment, absent mindedness, and outrage.  Students are attuned to your mannerisms and often pick-up on cues before you realize they are being sent.

“Are you okay Mrs. Robinson”

“Yeah, I’m fine”

“You sure? You seem like you’re not yourself right now.”

“I’m fine, thank you for asking baby.”

But was she really “fine”?  She was seconds away from a melee in the teachers lounge! And for what? One second she was greeting Ms. Jackson and watching a video together, the next moment they were squaring up like bantamweight boxers at a press conference.  She hadn’t even had time to reflect on what happened and how quickly it escalated. Did she really want to fight a grown woman in a school and risk her reputation as well as her job?  “Get it together ‘Kyra!” She whispered in confidence. 

She started the lesson on Inertia and considering recent events that refused to escape her attention, she began to wonder if she was the victim of this seemingly inescapable force.  Life is good, she has a good job, a loving husband, precious children, and comfort.  She’s been drifting away from her former self steadily since college.  A lot of the activities she engages in are tame compared to the girl she was when she met the love of her life. 

In her sorority days she wore revealing, form-fitting cocktail dresses to the club that accentuated her hour glass form.  She drank and cussed and carved several notches in the proverbial belt.  She could have whomever she wanted, whenever she wanted them and though she used discretion, she certainly partook in the pleasures of the flesh.  She partied hard and occasionally the Delta Sigma Thetas and Alpha Kappa Alphas would link up behind the engineering building after a step show to have an animated “discussion” about who truly ran the campus. She was always in the thick of it, talking shit, and ready at a moments notice to jump on a Bitch who had something to say. 

Senior year when she was chapter president, a particularly brutal war popped off because the AKAs had won the trophy for best sorority step team at homecoming but used some condescending moves intended to mock the Deltas.  ‘Kyra was having none of that and challenged the AKA’s president to join her at “speakers circle” for a heart to heart.  With what amounts to two female gangs, there wasn’t much talking that evening at speaker’s circle, but there certainly were actions taken.  ‘Kyra walked right up to her counterpart and slapped the shit out of her. Hair went flying, claws were exposed, breasts were too. She found herself with one hand enmeshed in the rival president’s hair while her neck was being violently contorted with a similar hold on her luxurious mane. Trading punches to the face, neck and side of the head with very little defense offered, the two generals shuffled to maintain balance and stay on their high heel booted feet.  Bodies were flying in every direction as pink and green flashes would be followed by crimson and cream streaks, and visa versa. 

‘Kyra’s rival switched tactics and grabbed the neck of her new Delta T-Shirt, a blood red uniform ordered specifically for the step competition.  She reversed direction and flung the Delta to the pavement, tearing the fabric and freeing her breasts to come tumbling out. Having shifted the momentum, her opponent mounted ‘Kyra with murderous intent. She attached talons to Kyra’s hair and attempted to bounce her head off of the cold autumn ground.  The three things preventing the onslaught from being effective were Kyra’s knee which caught the assailant in the sternum upon charging, the palm of her left hand which pushed the attacker’s chin skyward, and her indomitable will which forced her to use all of her faculties to turn the table.  Shifting position she was able to buck off the rival and scramble for top position. Determined not to be the last one embarrassed by exposing her tits to the night air she yanked malicious on the pink collar shirt until pearl shaded buttons flew in all directions.  Two fantastic sets of tits were on display amid tattered rags that formerly served as shirts. Those breasts are pressed together in a sweaty embrace as the beautiful mocha colored combatants rolled and reversed in search of a dominant grip.  Two sets of long legs encased in form fitting jeans were entangled and interlocked while corresponding arms and hands embraced, scratched, pushed, yanked, and struck. 

Screams filled the air as the rival sororities battled on.  Kyra had managed to work her way on top, pinning the rival captain beneath. The calls of oooh oooop and skeeee weee alerted the sisters that someone was coming and it was time to flee. Kyra had either ignored the warning or shut off the world in a fit of rage. She was already disgusted by the disrespect offered at the show, but the disrobing and attempted head bashing had her seeing red. Both women had handfuls of hair but Kyra’s freedom of movement allowed her to swing violently and mercilessly.  Victory was apparent as her rival released her grip and covered up for protection.

Just then the sisters separated the women and shuttled them away toward safety.  Kyra was on fire! They lost the dance competition, and she couldn’t speak for her whole side in the skirmish, but she personally bested her adversary and it felt amazing!  Her boyfriend, Mr. Roberson had no idea what he was in for when she returned to the apartment.  After four rounds of intense fucking and multiple bottles of Gatorade, they slept stickily engulfed in each other’s arms on top of the covers well into the next afternoon. Then the second session began.

Now Ikyra is a respectable soccer mom with a respectable career, throwing respectable birthday parties, inviting other children of respectable soccer moms to join her.   When does it stop? She misses the care free vixen that fucked and fought whenever and however she pleased. When do forces set in motion ever stop, when met with an equal and opposite force!  Ms. Jackson! She felt a new sense of gravitational pull dragging her inevitably toward Sparkle.  She could try to fight it, but wouldn’t it be more fun to fight her?

[Vengeance]

A great start and a writer with obvious talent. This story is shaping up nicely... 

Thank you for the complement. Working on it when I get the chance. 

[Vengeance]

It’s a dog eat dog world out there, no one knows that fact better than Sparkle.  Nothing was handed to her in this life, she’s had to scratch and claw for every advancement along the way.  She was a local girl who in spite of being intelligent, barely graduated from high school. Her frequent suspensions due to mixing it up with cheerleaders and volleyball players made it exceedingly difficult to get the grades she was capable of.  The extra unsupervised time at home gave her opportunities to entertain boys and led to a teenage pregnancy. With minimal help from her estranged parents she worked a McJob by day and went to community college at night.  Eventually she matriculated to an online university to gain a bachelors in business and entered the corporate world in her early twenties.

She became a teacher because the business world was so transactional and she discovered the need to purify her soul.  One can only be propositioned for sex so many times in exchange for promotional opportunities before you begin to reassess your purpose.  Most “opportunities” she left on the table, but if the guarantor was cute, she might let her guard down for a time and prospered as a result.  She became accustomed to fine dining, luxury cars, and downtown skylines. That type of Quid Pro Quo had her wondering if she was in actuality just a high priced call girl. Therefore she drifted toward her second career, taking a break from the rat race and teaching the finer points of business to America’s youth. What she didn’t realize but was slowly coming to grips with was that the school system is filled with many transactional people as well.  Good for her, she knew the game well. 

What she did miss from her corporate experience was the adrenalin of competition.  Preparing a proposal package to best her counterparts at other firms, working under a deadline to land a mega deal, or preparing herself to be in position for hotly contested promotions.  She worked hard and partied harder, a trend she brought with her into the educational field.  She was always staying late getting her classroom together, working on lesson plans, or on the phone contacting firms to set up mentoring opportunities for her students. When the day was done she retreated to the local watering hole for libation.

Today was looking like a day where she needed a stiff drink but the issue of Ikyra weighed heavily on her mind.  Her oldest kid is self-sufficient at this point and the youngest was with her co-parent this week, so Sparkle knew that she had time to go to her favorite happy hour dive.  It was a place she started frequenting in her days as a trainee fresh out of college, back in her early twenties when her entrance into a room drew the attention of every man in the establishment and the ire of the women.  One particular woman stood out today, a milk chocolate goddess with a beautiful complex and silky smooth long legs.  Sparkle’s sales team was out celebrating exceeding their monthly quota, and she adores tacos and tequila, so Tuesday’s plan became obvious. The guys on the team kept the margaritas and shots coming, hoping to inspire some bad decisions.

Though nothing but merriment surrounded Sparkle at her table, her energy was off.  Something was drawing her away from the celebration.  Two brown eyes on the other side of the bar.  She noticed the woman but couldn’t place the face with a situation, that was until she heard her laugh.  There was something familiar in its grating tone.  She leaned over to a friend with the disposition of a mean drunk, usually out of her character, and explained that she new who the brown eyes belonged to.  She didn’t quite remember her name, Cee Cee or Gee Gee or something was what people called her.  She couldn’t be bothered with minor details in this state, what was important is that she knew her....from middle school...No! Nooooo...... No! They didn’t go to school together, but she ran track against her......or....um.....AHHH! I know! They liked the same boy, what’s his face!  Yup, that’s it!  She tried to steal Sparkle’s boyfriend, the one that she might have held hands with and fell asleep on the phone with once 8-10 years ago in pre-adolescence. A “man” so important that she has no idea what his name was, or his whereabouts for the prior decade. Maybe sober she could’ve recalled, but that’s not important.  What’s important is, that’s her! She was at the other school and Sparkle found out because.......um.....None of that matters! She’s looking at her.  Sparkle doesn’t like it, so she stares back. 

“I don’t know who this bitch thinks she’s staring at, don’t she know I’m not the one?”

“Girl, she’s not staring at you, you’re imagining things.”

“No the fuck I’m not, I know a thieving ass man thief when I see one. Don’t she look like she.....she’s probably stealing someone’s man right the fuck now! Old thieving ass bitch!”

If the brown eyes weren’t looking at her before, they certainly are now.  She’s glancing over at the table and talking to her friends, but there’s too much back ground noise.

“You see that? That fucking trick is talking about me. I bet she won’t say that shit too my face!”

The gorgeous brown skinned specimen waring a short navy skirt and satin blue sleeveless top, tossed her hair as she glanced at Sparkle with a carefree laugh.  That did it! Sparkle got up and began to dart through the thick happy hour crowd.  Surprisingly no one on her team made the faintest attempt to stop her, a few did follow to be closer to the ensuing action. I assume they had dinner in the form of tacos, now they’re ready for a show.  The vaguely familiar woman stood to meet her with an equally glassy expression suggesting that the empty Appletini glasses on the table in part belonged to her.  A few had likely already been removed from the table as well.  Sparkle arrived at the table in her short tan skirt with matching pumps, she left her jacket at the table so the white top with spaghetti straps exposed the cleavage of her shapely tits. 

“Excuse me, do I KNOW you?”

“You certainly were looking me up and down like you do, I came to find out if you had something to say.”

“And if I did? I’ll look were I please and say whatever I feel.”

“I just want to know if you’ll ‘say what you feel’ to my face”

“Please bitch you don’t scare anyone. Take your little drunk ass back to your table before you get your little feelings hurt.”

“By who? You?” She chuckles, “Bitch you wish.”

“Wishes come true everyday boo boo.”

“Well do something then.  You seem to be feeling froggy....Jump!”

“You better get the fuck outta my face.”

“Or what? Whatchu gonna do about it?”

“Ladies!” Said the bartender, now gripping a Louisville Slugger. He points the weapon like Babe Ruth calling his shot in the ‘32 World Series, “take is out back.”

The ladies file out into the red brick alleyway with a third of the patrons following.  The crowd forms an oblong shape that resembles a miniature area.  Two would be gladiatresses stood eyeing each other examining their opponents toned arms and defined calves.  Sparkle feels the familiar surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins and is beginning to sober up realizing that an obstacle that required navigation was present.  Her nipples stiffened and pussy moistened. Tensions rose to a crescendo as the Romanesque mob shouted commands in a blood lust, propelling the women to stride in synchronicity toward each other resolving to yank straightened ebony hair.   

Between the shouting of partisans and interested onlookers, the sounds of high heels shuffling on concrete could be distinguished readily.  Listen closer and the occasional whence and heavy breathing were also audible. Finally the sounds of petite fists connecting with bare arms, torsos, and craniums became apparent. The fight was on, why it was happening is inconsequential, the reason held zero weight in the moment.  Actually there wasn’t much of a reason before the conflict.  What mattered in the now was the athletically framed woman in front of Sparkle, the knowledge that that woman intended to do her harm, and the determination to thwart her adversary’s plan by inflicting as mush pain as she could muster. Everything else was bullshit.  Dog eat dog!

Balancing in tasteful yet unpractical shoes and mutually bent over at the waist, the brown beauty freed her dominant hand and delivered wild uppercuts to Sparkle’s swaying and partially exposed breasts, her forearm, and glossy full lips. The shot that got through set Sparkle’s lips on fire which matched the four alarm fire raging on her scalp. Rather than retreat and cover her obviously swelling lips, she turned up the intensity on hair pulling disrupting the timing of her opponent’s attacks and affecting her tittering equilibrium.  Her efforts were effective as she flung her adversary onto the arena floor, followed immediately by her own subsequent tumble.

Sprawled on the pavement surrounded by the mob in all directions, beyond that dingy red brick walls and trash receptacles, the two warriors struggled underneath the open twilight sky. Sultry inviting legs were intertwined as skirts rose up to reveal round asses with glutes engaged. Black and white thongs were the only covering preventing a pair of well manicured and damp pussies from escaping.  The peanut butter and chocolate pairs of legs collected particles of dirt and broken glass from the alley floor as well as minor abrasions.  The pace of the fight was not sustainable for much longer and one sweaty warrior was doomed to succumb to the enemy’s attack in a matter of moments.  Claws were used maliciously to remove outer layers and gouge at necks, tits and faces.  Each woman skillfully deployed defense maneuvers and various forms of aggression to assert their will over the other.   A volley of kicks and punches landed as they struggled facing each other on their sides. Sparkle delivered a particularly sound kick to her rivals mid-section, separating her from the clinch and allowing her to stagger to her feet.  Observing her opening she intercepted her opponents attempt to get to her feet. Grabbing a fist full of hair with her left and hammering her point home with the right, the crowd full of Constantines gave the thumbs up with a few whiny exceptions.  Sparkle was whisked away and not allowed to finish the job, but victory was hers. 

Sparkle’s spaghetti straps were broken so her bra was exposed. Luckily her friend’s foresight of grabbing her jacket worked out well.  While her opponent limped away with the help of her friends, Sparkle and her crew reentered the bar charged with energy.  A new staring contest broke out, between Sparkle and her cutest coworker.  She grabbed him by his tie and lead him to the restroom stall where she came hard on his dick buried balls deep within her. 

The encounter with Mrs. Roberson rekindled the competitive spirit she once acted upon and it was all she could do not to fondle her breasts and rub one out at her desk while her students say at their computer screens working on their projects.  She decided it may be time for a hostile takeover, but first time for research.  She knew their mutual friend Mrs. Martin would have Ikyra listed as a friend on social media.  Finding that her page was restricted, Sparkle thought about the ramifications and then sent a friend request.  Five minutes later a notification indicated that the request was accepted, she had access to pictures and videos necessary for reconnaissance, as did her co-worker.

Hours past by slowly, the end of the day came.  Ms. Jackson was staying late and either was going back to the bar this evening or perhaps working out some tension. The eldest child is self-sufficient and it was one of her co-parents court ordered day with the younger child.  She knew she was free to play.  Knowing that Mrs. Roberson had tutoring she’d be around until late, Sparkle endeavored to little utility to work on some paperwork after school.  Useless, all she could do was surf through Ikyra’s profile and study her potential acquisition.  Students were leaving for the late activity busses and the building fell quiet. Sparkle found herself in her messenger app hovering over Ikyra’s name. She clicked on it to find evidence that Mrs. Roberson was typing.  Her well manicured eyebrows raised. Suddenly a message appeared...

*I’m going to the ladies room at the end of the hallway, care to join me?*

Sparkle grinned like the Cheshire cat.

*nothing would please me more*

[sidekick]

Very entertaining indeed. I'm certainly enjoying it.

[Vengeance]

Very entertaining indeed. I'm certainly enjoying it.

Thank you much.  Editing the showdown currently. Will have it up soon.

[Vengeance]

“Good practice today, remember we have a meet coming up this weekend, it’s a two hour drive to and from the university, so let your parents know you’ll be home late and that you’ll need money for diner.  Any questions?”

“.......”

“Nope?”

“........”

“Coach Mari, do you have anything to add?”

“We had some tension in the building today, especially among the ladies.  Realize that your actions affect the team, and know that school isn’t necessarily the best place to address certain grudges.  If you do that sort of thing here....you’re going to get suspended. Be smart! “

I looked at Mari and wondered if she’s lost her mind.  Did she just give these kids the, “it’s ok to fight, just don’t get caught” speech? We are in the middle of a season, I don’t need a team full of injured athletes.  Though...there is some wisdom there, I mean if kids are motivated to fight, they’ll find a way to do it.  When the guys get into it, they tend to be a little stupid about it.  They just ask “What’s up?” And then fists start flying.  That means they get caught and suffer the consequences; which in high school, let’s face it, aren’t that bad.  They’re not going to be arrested and the action usually gets broken up before someone gets seriously hurt.  They may have to face their parents when they get home, but for some parents, as long as Junior doesn’t lose it doesn’t really matter to them.  Usually the whole thing is squashed between the combatants a few days later, sometimes within the hour, and the young men can coexist from then on.

The ladies on the other hand, they’re sneaky and vindictive. On the surface everything will be as right as rain and then all of a sudden you’ll find out that one of them snuck a blade onto school grounds and planed to cut the young lady whose been pressing her buttons.  They will keep a grudge like VD, it never fully goes away. If conflict is inevitable as it often seems, I guess it makes sense to practice discretion.  I’ll talk to Mari about it later, plus when she’s out of that Kevlar vest and wearing a tight T-Shirt and shorts for practice, you notice those massive tits sitting on her chest.  For and older women, she keeps herself in shape, I bet she was hell on wheels when she was a youth competing for CHS. This will give me something to open up with when I ask her about the fight between Ivy and Carmelita. 

“Ok, bring it in.  On 3.......1,2,3.....GO WILDCATS!”

*****

“A friend request? Interesting. What’s that about?  After that awkward moment this morning?  I’ve been thinking about that all day”, muses Mrs. Robinson.  “Now she wants to be my friend? Smells like a set up to me, I’m not falling for it.” 

Ikyra put her phone back down and continued to monitor students during the last hour of the day.  She knew she had tutoring and then had to pick up the kiddos after school.  She looked at her phone, wondering if she could use it to convince her husband to pick the kids up.  She’d make it worth his while.  So what, if there’s a friend request from Ms. Jackson.  “We’re co-workers, you know professionals.  Maybe she just saw my profile and wants to get to know me better. That’s crazy! The way she was looking at me?  She looked like she wanted to rip my head off....I wanted to rip hers off.  It’s probably just a coincidence, we know a lot of the same people.  It’s harmless, I’ll just pick up my phone like I do all the time and press accept.” 

She sent her husband a text.

*Hey babe, can you pick up the kids and grab some dinner tonight.  I’ve got a little extra energy, I may go work out.  I’ll make it up to you later. Love you, mwah. *

She started to put the phone down, but a notification came back almost instantly. 

*no problem, I’ve got you. I love you too. Be safe*

“Be safe” kinda weird.  What does he think I’m going to do? Don’t over think it.”

*you’re the best husband in the world, I’ll do my best*

“‘I’ll do my best?’ What does that even mean? See there I told you not to over think it, and here you are overthinking it.”

With her phone already in her hand she naturally checked her social media, it’s hard wired into her brain at this point.  Of course the algorithm conveniently showed her stories from her new friend.  “Let’s see what’s going on with Sparkle Jackson since we’re best buds now.” So down the rabbit hole she went.  Throughout tutoring she found herself constantly coming back to her page, reading posts, watching videos, and searching her friends list.  She’d become obsessed.  Tutoring was finally over, she dismissed her students and she felt a need to reach out.  Did she want to discuss what happened this morning? Did she want to see where this thing was going? She wasn’t sure.  This was certainly new ground.  “What should I say?”

*what’s up bitch, you want to fight me?* [Delete]

“No, too direct.  I do have a job here I’d like to protect.”

*Hey, let’s talk*
[Delete]

“Fuck no, that’s too passive, I’ll look like a chicken. Uhhhh, why is this so hard! I feel like I’m IN high school, not teaching it!”  She thought about Ivy asking for permission to go to the restroom this morning.  “I had no clue what she was going there to do, I’ll bet her heart was racing, but she looked so collected and confident. I wonder if she even knew she was going there for a fight, maybe all they were supposed to do was talk. I need something in between, I want to leave the door open to all possibilities. Hell I’m not a hundred percent sure what I want. Something open ended.” Feeling a since of urgency to complete the task before Ms. Jackson went home, and with Ivy still on her mind she typed:

*I’m going to the ladies room at the end of the hallway, care to join me?*

To her surprise, she saw that Ms. Jackson was on the app as well.  Her breathing fluctuated and her heart started pounding.  “Oh shit! That was too aggressive, she’s going to think I’m a freak.”  It became apparent that a message was being typed in return...

*nothing would please me more*

Oh wow!  What dose that mean? Does she think we’re going to girl talk, or are we going to talk Woman to Woman? Stop thinking! Be ready for everything.  This is so crazy, but I can’t turn back now.” She gathered her things to head out of the door, so she could have some plausible deniability in case Ms. Jackson was not thinking what she was thinking. “Nothing would please her more?” She had to be on the same page.  She turned out the lights and locked the door, then put one foot in front of the other charting a course for the same restroom that played host to a girl fight this morning.  “Ok. Here we go.”

*****

The late activity busses were pulling off and the parking lot was relatively empty.  The admin team’s parking spaces were abandoned, so were the counselors.  Coaches and a few straggling teachers were heading out for the day.  I waved to Mrs. Martin as she was pulling off. A few cars for the late shift janitorial crew had arrived.  My car, Coach Mari’s, Ikyra’s and Sparkles were all I recognized.   Mari had returned to the security desk and checked the monitor. 

“Hey Mari”

“What’s up Coach?”

“Nice little speech you gave there, you think anything is brewing on the team?”

“You know Boss Man, you never know.  They switch gears so fast.”

“True.  What happened with those two girls this morning?  I heard you checked it out.”

“Haha, I keep my eyes out.  You never know when something’s going to happen.  I was watching on the monitor and I saw one of the girls from that scuffle in the hallway during passing period enter the restroom.  I didn’t think much of it at the time.”

Just then Mrs. Roberson who appeared to have gathered her things to exit the building was on the monitor and made a stop at the 2nd floor restroom.  Mari observed it from the monitor. Nothing alarming. 

“So I was minding my business, you know me, and the other little girl came out of the room and walked into the restroom too.  That’s when I knew something was up.”

Ms. Jackson closed her door but didn’t appear to have her things.  Her signature heals could be heard echoing trough the empty building click clacking down the hallway, even at the front door.  I turned around anticipating her arrival, but the sound stopped upstairs.  Mari saw on the monitor that she also had gone to the restroom, and remembered the awkward transaction this morning between the two educators.  She may have had an idea of what was to come, but she had a good poker face. 

“Wow! That’s crazy! So who won?”

“It was even, quiet as kept, I took my time breaking it up. The way I see it, if you start something, you’ve got to be prepared to finish it.”

“Haha, you’re a mess. Think they’re finished?”

“I doubt it. It took three big officers to keep them separated, but they’ll have a little time to cool off before they come back in here.”

“True indeed.”

Mari looks at the monitor and realized that neither of the women who entered a few minutes ago had exited. 

“I’m going to conduct a sweep, make sure everything is locked down.”

“Cool, I’m going to get out of here. See you tomorrow.”

I leave the building, get to the car, then realize that I left my car keys in my work clothes; and had left those on a closet hanger in the classroom.  Luckily I have my badge and can swipe to reenter the building.

*****

A cell phone, 3 rings, a watch, 4 bracelets, a pair or hoop earrings, a nose ring and a nipple ring are piled into the desk drawer.  Sparkle isn’t sure what she’s walking into, but she refuses to go unprepared.  She takes a gander at the mirror in her closet and makes sure that she still looks her best without the accessories.  A quick freshening up of her lipstick, some gum to freshen up her breath, and a quick pump of lavender body spray. A straightening of her form fitting size 8 dress, she’s not a size 2 like the last time she anticipated a physical conflict.  And who knows, she may just be meeting in private on neutral territory to discuss matters further.  Sparkle never anticipated meeting on school grounds like this again, especially with Mrs. Roberson.  An image may have flashed through her mind of snatching an assistant principal bald after a less than stellar observation, or following the instructional coach to her car because she bad mouthed her to the Admin team, but this particular paradigm may actually materialize. Anyway, for the life of her, she didn’t know why. Either way, she won’t be caught looking less than her standard, regardless of what this little meeting held.  She positioned a few locks of her ginger and blond dreads into a pleasing position.  “Okay, I’m ready. Here we go.” 

Her door locks behind her as she walks with only her door key on a lanyard in her hand. Her dreads bounced as her heels recoiled off the tile floors.  She arrives at her destination, takes a deep breath, and then pulls the door to enter.  As expected Mrs. Roberson is at the sink, apparently freshening up her look as well.  A quick glance is inconclusive, she has her purse and a light jacket laid on the adjacent sink next to her, she has apparently removed her smart watch, necklace, and wedding band.  Her stud earrings were still in place, which were only visible because her naturally curly hair was pulled back exposing well maintained edges and rouge cheek bones. 

“So....what’s up?”

“No, hey girl? I mean we are Facebook friends.”

“Haha, that we are.  I’m a little thrown off.  After that moment this morning. What was that?”

Ikyra makes eye contact through the reflection in the mirror as she applies red tint to her full and pouty lips. “I know. I’ve been thinking about that all day. I don’t know what came over me.”

“It’s like we were watching the girls come into this restroom and I felt something.  I don’t know what, but it was like some powerful primitive urge.”

“I know what you mean, like even coming in here knowing that Ivy and Carmelita fought in here has me kind of tingling.”

Sparkle looks around as she takes in the surroundings like a veteran on the beaches of Normandy. “Can you imagine how many girls have fought in this bathroom over the years?  I would guess at least once a month for the last 40+ years.” 

“Yeah, it’s almost like sacred ground, a coming of age ritual.”

Each word uttered summons the imagery of mine sweepers traversing a field. One false step could lead to a similar outcome. Ikyra having finished her preparations returns her tools to their proper locations and turns to face her coworker.

“May I say, you look good girl! I love the dress and those shoes! Red looks good on you. Have you ever thought of pledging Delta?”

“Thank you, girl you’ve got the outfit popping as well. Those shoes are Cuuuute!  Naw I’ve been Me-Phi-Me for a while. I never really got into Greek life.”

“You should think about it. What happened to the jewelry you had on earlier, it was cute.”

“Oh, I’m embarrassed to say. I didn’t know what I was walking into, so I decided to be ready for anything. It seems you’re not wearing any either, accept for those earrings.” Stated pointedly.

“Yeah, I’m like you, just being prepared.  What did you want to happen?”

“Haha, if I’m being honest. My emotions have been all over the place. Part of me knows that this is my job, and that you’re my colleague, and professionally speaking it’s nuts to even think of confronting someone like you in the restroom. The other part of me has been on fire all day thinking about letting go of social norms and just finding out if I still have it in me. What did you envision happening?” 

“Um, mixed emotions.  I think the lizard part of my brain wants to know how we measure up. You know, physically. I think about being a mother and a professional, and know that that’s going to be the case for the rest of my life. I’m like you, I wonder if the door has closed on my youth and I was part dreading but part anticipating a confrontation. You know?”

“I do”

An uncomfortable silence fell upon the increasingly tense discussion. Both women standing at opposite ends of the restroom maintained eye contact and could sense the rise and fall of each others chests as breathing intensified.  It felt like all of the oxygen had been sucked out of the room.

Sparkle offered, “Sooooo what are you thinking now? Do You want to go home as mother’s and professionals, or see where this space and opportunity lead?”

Sensing the presence of a challenge Ikyra responded in a similar tone.  Not yet bitchy, but  self assured, and resolute. “I don’t know about you, but I’m not sure if I could ever forgive myself for passing up an opportunity like this. To learn a little more about myself.”

“Was that shade? ‘I don’t know about you...’” Sparkle scoffed internally. “Did she just insinuate that I may not be equal to the task.  She’s about a size 10-12, but I know I’m in better shape.” She felt a dislike for Mrs. Robinson that had not previously existed. Good, she needed fuel for her fire. Her response allowed some of those embers to float across the room. 

“You may not like what you find out.”

“Oh shit! Did she just come for me?” Ikyra attempted to maintain an outward projection of calmness, while internally she was simmering.  The bitchiness was arriving and beginning to seep from their pores. A subtle shift in position, the placement of their hands, the variation of their tone. 

“Or it could be, that you don’t want to know. I mean it’s not too late for you to get in your car and go home. What do you want to do?”

That sealed the deal.  This is happening! A catfight between two teachers in the restroom.  Sparkle didn’t say another word, she stepped back toward the door intentionally maintaining eye contact with her coworker and turned the lock.  I’m reminded of the scene from “A Bronx Tale”, “Now yous can’t leave”.  Ikyra recieved the message. She finished removing her earrings and taking off her heals.  Sparkle took her heels off placing them carefully under the sink and then unzipped the back of her dress.  She had to walk out of here after kicking this bitch’s ass and didn’t want a torn dress on the security tapes.  She shimmied her hips until it fell revealing her black lace underwear.  Her flat tummy was not as defined as it once was but men never complained. She has a Coke bottle figure and was unashamed to present it to a newfound rival. Without loosing eye contact she bent over to retrieve the garment, while displacing a beautiful round honey brown ass that served as counter balance to her ample breasts.  Ikyra taking the cue, unbuttoned her blouse revealing a Kelly green satin bra before unzipping her skirt and gyrated to loosen the fabric from her thick golden thighs.  Not wanting to be out done, she reached around to her back to unclasp the hook, releasing her golden orbs.  Brown nipples stood at attention, pointing at Sparkle to act in kind.  Of course Sparkle returned the favor and uncovered the sensitive nerve endings jutting out from her tits.

Preliminaries all but resolved there remained one question. How do we get this party started?  Specifically, will this be a sparring session as there had been no previous animosity, or will this be blood sport as their forebearers had contested on this hallowed ground.  Standing at opposite ends of the confined space, wearing nothing but thongs and faint scowls, the  women deliberately walked toward each other until standing close enough to kiss. One slowly raised two open palms with fingers spread, the other soon joined her in a test of strength. Soon they stood forehead to forehead pushing like two interlocked rams.

Ikyra’s powerful legs earned her an early advantage as she was able to drive her opponent back the the door, prompting Sparkle to switch tactics.  She slipped her fingers out of the mutual interlacing and shot her arm around Ikyra’s neck initiating a head lock. Ikyra now bent at the waste pressed her shoulder into the swinging breasts in front of her, utilizing the momentum to squeeze oxygen from Sparkle’s lungs as she had her back to the wall. Realizing the forward thrusts were taking a toll on her, Ms. Jackson slipped one hand up to grab the curly follicles of her attacker in an effort to slow her momentum. Recognizing the rule change Ikyra grabbed the woven dreadlocks of the woman inflicting pain on her to return the favor. 

A struggle played out as both women became increasingly aggressive in their hair-pulling, contorting each other’s necks in unnatural angles. Mrs. Robinson desired to improve upon her hunched position. She reached out with the palm of her hand to Sparkle’s face hoping to break the hold on her hair or at least gain leverage.  Sparkle reacting to the hand in her face and spoke for the first time since the exchange became physical, “Get your hands out of my fucking face.” Realizing that the tactic was working Ikyra persisted prompting the first strikes of the contest. Sparkle in frustration freed her right hand to deliver body shots to the offender’s ribs and back. 

*****

I’ve arrived at the top of the stairwell on a mission to retrieve possessions from the classroom and noticed that Coach Mari is leaning against the girl’s restroom door.  She appears to be intently listening to something going on within, and her hand may or may not be reaching underneath her t-shirt to fondle her left boob. Hearing me approaching she straightened up and raised a single finger to her lips giving the universal sign for “shut the fuck up, something’s going down.” 

I walk a little closer and whisper, “what’s going on?”

“Ms. Jackson and Mrs. Robinson are fighting in the bathroom!”

My mind is absolutely blown! “What the fuck did you just say?” Faint noises could be heard through the door.
(((“Ugh!” Slap! “Bitch!”)))

“You heard that right”

“Oh shit! What are you going to... what are we going to do? Do you need some help breaking it up?”

(((Cough! cough! “Ouch!” Slap! “Fuck You!”)))

“Slow down Speed Racer, let’s give it some time.  Occasionally women just need to sort out some things amongst themselves.  We don’t always need you mansplaining how to problem solve. Sit back and enjoy, Boss Man.”

“Ummmmm, okay? Do you know why they’re fighting?”

“Hard to tell, but I walked in on them in the teacher’s lounge this morning and they were acting real strange.  They made some story up about an eyelash or something, but I could have sworn they were squaring up to fight then. I guess I was right!”

“Oh wow!”

(((Thud! Bump! “Ahhh!” Shuffle! Shuffle!)))

“I saw them on the monitor walking in here while we were downstairs. I did a quick sweep of the building but saved this door for last.”

(((“Let go of my fucking hair!” Thud! Thud! Ramble!)))

“That’s crazy! Both of them did seem weird coming back from planning period. I didn’t think much of it at the time.”

(((“You fucking cow!” “Aghhh!” “You fucking scratched me! You Bitch!” Plop!)))

“I didn’t put it together until they didn’t come out.”

“How long have they been in here.”

“About 10 minutes, I showed up about 3 minutes ago and they were already at it!”

(((Crash! Slap! Slap! Slap! “Ughh!” Rumble!)))

“Sounds like it’s getting rough in there.”

“Ok, I’ll go in first and call if I need you.” Mari searches for her master key and inserts it in the lock. “Stay close, I may need you.”

*****

At every turn an unwritten rule was broken.  Hair pulling begat hands to the face, hands to the face begat body punches. Body punches crept up toward the head and face. When an unwritten rule was unmade, it vanished forever.  When you trade punches to the eyes and nose, you don’t suddenly stop and deescalate. The only path is forward. You must deliver such blows with enough force to potentially end the fight. Violence encourages more violence. These women were in a full blown war of attrition. They were not colleges, they were enemy combatants. They were not at their place of work, they were transported to a village along the Congo where honor and survival were at stake.  There was no tomorrow, only the woman in front of them and threat of their physicality. 

The women shifted positions to gain leverage, in hopes of throwing their fierce opponent off. Sweat created a viscous coating that protected the Warriors from certain holds and provided an aura giving the image of two celestials engaged in eternal struggle.  Their backs, shoulders, and bountiful asses must have touched every wall, stall door, and sink in the restroom. Probably half of the mirrors as well. The struggle continued as one teacher successfully cast the other to the floor and failed to maintain her own balance. Two glistening bodies wound around each other on the ground. While laying side-by-side the kicking and pulling and scratching and striking continued wherever an opening presented itself.

Ikyra found her claws buried in her rivals right breast and found the squirming and anguish it caused titillating. It almost made the talons in her own left breast tolerable.  Their legs intertwined in a fashion that left their scantily clad vaginas adjacent and in contact with an unfamiliar but warm thigh. Ikyra readjusted her grip on the supple breast to evoke a scream. Sparkle countered with intent to minimize her rivals access to her abused mammaries. She reached around her opponent and squeezed her intensely in a prostrated bear hug. Her actions were immediately returned. The two women lay on the restroom floor covered in perspiration, tender breast mashed against tender breast. Breathing heavily though they are denying each other air in a firm embrace.  At their close proximity and elevated respiratory activity, they couldn’t help but take in each others aroma.  The sweet smell of lavender and vanilla perfumes, combined with the salty scent of perspiration, vaginal secretions and pheromones to create an intoxicating blend.  Their slippery struggle to reanimate their grip in the begrudging embrace made difficult by the lack of friction, became rhythmic. The women could feel a familiar growing tension in their bodies as their feminine anatomy aligned and realigned and realigned. Soon their hips joined the fight and in tandem bucked and wound in a violent propulsion that produced a sloshing noise repeatedly. Backs were scratched raw and hair was pulled vigorously but somewhere in the struggle pain had become pleasure. They craved it harder and faster and harder and faster!

Sparkle succumbed to her urges first screaming,”AGHHHHHHHHHHHHH! OH SHIT! OH SHIT! OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD!”

The sensory overload was too much for Ikyra and she released, “FUUUUUUCCCCCK! OH! OH! OH FUCK! OH FUCK!”

They laid in each other’s arms, surrounded in a pool of various fluids with loose hair floating about, emotionally vulnerable and confused. Nose to nose staring deeply into each others eyes not knowing if passion or rage was the feeling they were witnessing. Simultaneously they leaned in further and their lips grazed each other’s. A light touch gave way to a sloppy, wet, battle where tongues were engaged as reinforcement. Ikyra’s beautiful full lips would have engulfed most women, but not so of Sparkle who was giving as good as she got.  Eventually the pounding drums that were their hearts retuned to a standard beat. They withdrew from each other and finally noticed Mari who was in the corner on the floor with her back against the door.  One hand in her shorts and the opposite cupping a massive brown boob with areolas the size of a small dinner plate.

Both women were frightened by their own actions, the thoughts running through the minds of their opponent, and the unexpected visitor.  Each resolved to dress as hastily as possible to escape to sanctuary. They threw on outer layers and neglected to replace supportive gear. Dreading being exposed to the hallway cameras they were reassured as Mari was stirring and keying into the broom closet, next to the door exiting the restroom.   “Don’t worry, I’ll clean up in here and edit the recordings.” Satisfied Ikyra grabbed her bag and rushed out of the door to find a bewildered Coach.  She placed her hand over her face as if she was able to hide behind it, and rushed down the stairway to the exit and her car. Weird! Sparkle soon followed, saw me and offered an embarrassed smile and shoulder shrug as she fled to regroup in her classroom with her heels and bra in hand.

I waited for Mari to come out and inquired, “Coach? What happened in there?”

To which she replied, “Um, I’ll put it like this....Boss man....I can’t tell you.” And locked the door before retreating to her security desk to work on the computer.

All I could do was shake my head. Still concerned, confused, and in need of my forgotten materials; I wandered back to my room.  To be honest I was also pretty horny, a fact betrayed by growing mound in front of the gym shorts I wore outside to practice.  I noticed that Ms. Jackson’s door was wide open.

“Knock, knock, you ok neighbor?”

She wasn’t in plain view, so I ventured in to check. She was at her closet, naked from the waist up, applying alcohol to the war wounds on her chest. Unflinching, possibly expecting a check in, she looked up and saw me and my sheepish expression.  The shimmer returned to her eyes.

“Hey neighbor, you come over to borrow some brown sugar.”

“Um...”

“Come on in and close the door.”

[SDSfemfan]

Great story! Hope it continues with them meeting up off campus for a finale and truly discovering who is the better woman!

[Vengeance]

“Hey Coach!”

“Good morning Mrs. Martin, subbing for Ms. Jackson?” Which is fairly obvious because she is setting up shop in the classroom next to mine.

“Yeah, they got me as soon as I walked in the door.  They need to get some full time subs in here, the little money they give you isn’t worth giving up your planning period sometimes.”

“Yeah, they’ve got me taking Mrs. Roberson’s 5th hour”, I said with a a sigh.  “You know subs are as worn out as us by the end of the year.  Plus a lot of those retired subs only have so many hours they can work before if affects their pension.”

“Mrs. Roberson, huh?” Tracy Martin changed the subject with a mischievous smile. 

“What?” I interjected wondering if Mrs. Martin knew anything about the events that transpired in the restroom at the end of the hallway after the close of business yesterday. At the same time attempting desperately to mask my own knowledge.

“Oh...nothing. Never mind me.” Still sporting a devilish grin.

“Oh, hell no! You’re holding back something! What happened? Give it up!” I insisted.

Mrs. Martin looks both ways down the hallway to confirm that the coast is clear. 
“Well, you didn’t hear this from me, but Ikyra fought someone at the school last night!”

Feigning surprise, I force my eyebrows to rise and push out a, “Whaaaaaat! Do tell...”.

“Well, you know Kyra is my Sorror, right?  I called her last night, and she told me she got in a real nasty fight with a teacher in the restroom.”

“What!?!?!” Playing my part.

“Yeah, I didn’t get many details because she was in a rush to get off the phone. She told me her husband was ready for round three.” she said with the blushing giddiness of a preteen. “I wonder who it was.”

“I have no idea, this is all new to me...” as I was reminded of my own after school activities with Ms. Jackson.  Licking the welts on her beautiful brown breasts.  Slapping her round ass while she was bent over a student desk with both the palm of my hand and thrusting pelvis. Finally testing the limits of my pullout game with her laying exposed over a table top, punishing her pussy as Mrs. Roberson had minutes prior with her thinly covered labia on the restroom floor.

“Do you think it could be Ms. Jackson? That would explain why she’s out today. ” Tracy concluded as the bell rang and students flooded the hallway.  The influx of eyes and ears brought an ambiguous end to the conversation but left room for other topics.

Among the students making their way through the hallway was Damiana Todd. She’s a varsity cheerleader still basking in her victory as homecoming Queen.  She had certainly filled out her senior year. Her dimpled smile and long black hair pulled back from her face was already distracting. The way her thin frame supported a pair of heavy swaying breasts was intoxicating, and led you to wonder if she had matching dimples separating her lower back from her round ass. She was very popular with the guys for her flirty attitude, including her male teachers. Girls on the other hand didn’t always find her as affable.  Her confidence was often interpreted as arrogance and led to several conflicts. She didn’t particularly care who she offended and was not afraid to escalate tensions with any woman taking issue with her. That competitive spirit landed her in several arguments occasionally ending in combat. She won some, she lost others, but she was not reluctant to get out there and answer a challenge.

Damiana strut into Ms. Jackson’s room and acknowledged me with a “Hey coach” and a wink. Referencing the time she embarrassed me in class last year before her 18th birthday. While discussing facets of the criminal justice system, she interjected with “Hey Coach, why don’t you come catch this case?” Leaving me at a loss for words and severely disrupting the lesson, which I assume was the primary objective.  If opportunity presents its self upon Ms. Todd’s exodus from the school next month I have a sneaking suspicion she’d renew her challenge as a young adult.  She walked right past Mrs. Martin without an acknowledgment of her presence. Tracy let out a barely audible “Bitch” when she concluded that Damiana was out of ear shot.  My antenna immediately went up, “what’s that about?” 

“I can’t stand that little brat.”

“What happened?”

“Yesterday in Personal Finance, she would not shut up. I asked her repeatedly to stop talking during the student presentations but she kept chatting away.  Finally I told her to ‘SHUT UP!’
She got an attitude and then started disrupting on purpose to get on my nerves.  Staring at me all the while, I got so pissed off.  I wanted to wipe that little smug grin off of her face. I had had enough and told her to ‘get out’. This bitch had the nerve to say, ‘you ain’t gonna make me’. I jumped up out of my chair and gave her my address telling her to come see me after school if she felt ready to find out.”

“You did what?”

“I sure did! She didn’t show up, plus I said it so fast I’m sure she didn’t catch the address, but I got my point across.”

“That’s crazy! What if someone was recording the exchange with their phone and had the address saved?”

“I didn’t think about that at the time. My husband said the same thing. I’m not worried though. I don’t think she really wants those problems.”

“And you do apparently?” I questioned amused and secretly aroused. “What did your husband say?”

“He said I’m nuts. He thinks I’m going to get the house shot up.”

“He might be right. You know these kids are crazy!” 

“I know, but I was a little crazy back in my day as well.  I’m not taking no shit off of these little broke girls.  If they want to play games, play games with your momma. I’m not the one!”

“I hear you. I hear she has a job though, so I don’t know how broke she is.” I said jokingly.

Tracy displayed an inquisitive look, “Where does she work?”

“I heard her say she works at the Burger Shack close to the mall after school.”

Tracy didn’t say anything, she just seemed to drift into deep thought wearing a mischievous grin. Her eyes rolled upwards and to the left as if she were searching through her brain for a way to put that new information to some nefarious use, or possibly pondering the consequences of actions she had already cooked up in her head.

“What! You’re not thinking of going out there?”

“I get hungry sometimes. I may want a burger.” Spoken with anything but an innocent smirk.

“You’re too much, I’m going to class. You play nice in there.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Tracy dreadfully withdrew from the hallway and addressed the class with her customary substitute speech.  “Ladies and gentleman, I need everyone to remain seated for the duration of class.  Please keep the talking down and respectful. Raise your hand if you need to get up, and I believe Ms. Jackson left you an assignment online. Please get to work.”  As soon as she finished Damiana challenged her authority in this foreign land. She got up from her desk and threw something away.  A simple act of noncooperation, that did not go unnoticed by Mrs. Martin, nor the assembly of students.

“Ms. Todd! Please have a seat.”

“What! I can’t throw something away?”

The eyes and ears of everyone present were fixated on this early confrontation.  The outcome of this spat was highly volatile. For the average substitute this escalation represented the opening battle in the war for the hearts and minds of the villagers.  Damiana knew this quite well as a veteran of several encounters with substitute teachers in this urban setting.  A simple act of defiance could lead to armed rebellion with paper wads and pen tops flying through the air like shrapnel, and she was an agent of chaos.  Tracy however wasn’t the typical foe dropped in behind enemy lines. She was savvy and established relations with the natives on separate tours. In other words, she’s a certified member of the staff and everyone knows her. Still, Damiana felt the need to test the limits of her will.

“Ms. Todd, have a seat! I don’t want to have to tell you again.”

“Make me...” a familiar phrase echoing the previous day’s tense encounter.

Damiana stood defiantly by the door with her hands firmly placed on her shapely hips daring Tracy to act, and commanding the attention of the class. A roar rose from the crowd, and Tracy knew she needed to quell the excitement while remaining professional, though her inner demons demanded that she make an example out of this presumptuous upstart. If you chop the head off of the snake, the body will die, correct? This young woman knew how to press Tracy’s buttons and the userped authority figure was counting the days until commencement when Ms. Todd would graduate and be out of her life permanently. She started to reach for the phone to call security to deal with this problem, which would’ve been a perfectly credible method to deal with such open insurrection.  Instead Mrs. Martin, responded to the demons on her shoulder screaming “fuck this little bitch” and asked Damiana to step into the hallway for a conference. “Class, remain seated I’ll be back shortly.”

The two women moved into the empty hallway and closed the door for privacy to hash out this rising interpersonal tempest. They stood a couple feet away with matching scowls and defensive postures. The captivating young woman was a caged tiger ready to pounce on her older counterpart.  The elder woman sashayed up to her tormentor with utter confidence and contempt.  Her pressed shoulder length salt and pepper hair flowed freely wrapping around the contours of her face. Crimson shaded lips pursed conveying a general dislike for the young lady opposite of her. Her bare caramel toned arms crossed in front subliminally sent two messages. First, psychologically the closed posture matched her closed mind, signaling an even handed discussion of reconciliation was not on the agenda. Secondly, they lifted the large breasts beneath her white blouse, mashing them together to protrude as cleavage through the unbuttoned top, conveying a primal challenge to the young lady’s womanhood.  It was as if, a right of passage ceremony was in the works but one elder stood in the way as the final challenge before equality was begrudgingly relinquished.

“Don’t touch me!” Exclaimed the younger woman.

Tracy sneered through red frames on the bridge of her freckled nose. “What’s your problem?”

“You’re my problem!“

“Well boo-boo, I am a problem solver!“

Damiana bit the shimmering and sparkly gloss on her bottom lip as she contemplated saying what she wanted to say. Knowing full well that it would escalate tensions further.  She wasn’t worried about Mrs. Martin’s physicality though she had to be 30 pounds heavier. They stood eye to eye so height wasn’t an issue.  She knew that this middle aged bitch couldn’t possibly match her fitness and probably hadn’t fought in years. What weighed on Damiana’s mind was the fact that this ass hole was an alleged authority figure, and beating her ass here at the school would result in expulsion and prevent her from graduating next month.  She knew it would be prudent to choose her words carefully and that grabbing that woman by her hair as she desperately wanted to could have real world consequences. The security cameras were watching, so she couldn’t jump on her, but if Mrs. Martin struck first certainly she could defend herself. Fuck it! Say what you have to say!

“You know I came to your house last night.”

Shocked and disturbed Tracy suppressed a gasp.  “What? You’re lying.”

“You gave me the address. 3190 Monroe.  It’s a beige house with red shutters.  Corner lot, looks like a new privacy fence in the back yard. You’ve got hedges under the windows and rose bushes near the walkway. Need me to continue?”

Tracy was amazed at how accurate the description was.  Her husband had just built the fence a few months ago and the wood hadn’t faded yet.  She spends several Saturdays manicuring the shrubbery while he cut the lawn.  She was in disbelief that the drama Queen had caught the address she shouted at her during yesterday’s confrontation and thought about Coach’s assessment that she may have received tech support from a classmate.  That’s something to ponder at a different time, in the here and now how do you respond to that threatening revelation.  Her husband would kill her if she invited her back to the house. Is it too late to deny that she had the right address? Tracy gathered her composer and calmly retorted.

“It’s a shame you didn’t knock, we could’ve had a pleasant little chat. I know a little something about you as well. You work at the Burger Shack out by the mall. I was thinking about stopping in to order something. Are you working tonight?”

Damiana started to say, “Bitch! How the fuck are you going to try to come up to my job. We’re right the fuck here at your job if you want to fucking chat! I should beat your ass! ” But she resisted that urge knowing the social structure of the current environment, that’s nothing but a trap, Mrs. Martin could have her arrested and removed from school permanently. But it’s now 100 percent apparent that Mrs. Martin wanted to fight and was looking for a venue. Under different circumstances there would be no better place than here and no time superior to now. But both women had a lot to loose by giving in to the incredible urge to roll around in the school hallway during first hour, tearing each other’s clothes, scratching flesh, and yanking each other’s hair.

“Yeah, I work tonight. We close at 10pm, if you come up there at 10 after, you can order something real special. Maybe we can have that chat you’ve been thinking about.”

An unmistakeable challenge, from this little bitch.  Tracy wanted to jump on her and tear her hair from its roots right then and there. However there’s a career to consider and probable assault charges.  Save it for tonight, she provided an opening.

“Oh, I’ll be there...”

“Good, I can’t wait...”

And why should they wait? A fight was agreed to in principle by the two women in separate seasons of development. They were standing in front of each other like boxers at a weigh-in. A mutual enmity was apparent, and they were both studying their respective opponent while swaying back and forth with nervous energy like the cobra and the mongoose. Feet shoulder width apart with one slightly in front of the other. An athletic stance providing a foundation from which they could defend or attack at a moments notice.  Both pairs of arms now at their sides, but not relaxed.  Veiny with clinched fists and shaking imperceptibly from adrenaline. Eyes transfixed on the steely compassionless gaze of their counter part unless they quickly glanced down to see the rising and falling of their chests. The larger pair of breast now released to sway rhythmically beneath a white blouse, and the other defying gravity while seemingly inflating with each tense breath inhaled. Why not strike first? Why not strike now? 

[Hammer48]

Welcome back! We missed you.

[Vengeance]

Welcome back! We missed you.

Thanks. Good to be back. I’ll keep working on it when I find the time.