[sinclairfan]

Dear TABSK:  My husband is a sole proprietor sales broker in a medium sized city, where reputation is everything.  He recently received a lukewarm review from a woman client of his, who I've not liked for years (and the feeling is mutual).  She and I are both 41, both blonde, the same size and build, and both athletic.  I found out from my husband that she offered to retract the review if he "spends time mentoring her" on Zoom and in person, time which I know she is going to use to try to seduce him.  I believe her lukewarm review was a warning shot to him, and to us, that she can and will write a bad review if she doesn't like how the "mentoring sessions" go.  I clearly need to defend my husband's honor.  Do I do this now or later?  Cheryl

Dear Cheryl--We at TABSK have long had a "bias for action", so acting now would in general be our advice.  But, part of us can't help wondering:  is she trying to steal him from you, or "just borrow" him?  TABSK

[sinclairfan]

Dear TABSK--My name is Nina, and I'm one of your younger readers:  25 years old, but I discovered you as a teenager.  Although I love your advice and your attitude, you sometimes struggle to keep up with the rapidly-changing online world, and this is one of those glaring instances.  A Yelp review is never just a Yelp review--it's also a message to the party it addresses, in this case Cheryl's husband.  And, ...... given that Cheryl specifically bad blood between herself and the writer, it's a message to Cheryl.  The frisky/sassy reviewer, by giving a middling review, managed the clever trick of simultaneously flirting with Cheryl's husband .... and calling out Cheryl.  Cheryl knows in her heart what she needs to do.  Although the "shot across the bow" was delivered virtually, the retort needs to delivered the Old School way:  in person, 1 on 1, woman to woman.  Buck up, Cheryl .... I'm with you, girl.  But you need to do this.  Or your rival will "borrow" your man if he's mediocre between the sheets .... and "steal" home if he's even above-average.  Nina

Dear Nina--From the mouths of babes.  We really should .... much more often than we do .... solicit advice anytime Instagram or Snapchat or Twitter appear in a letter.  Point taken--we will now add Yelp to that list.  Thank you for answering Cheryl's question ..... and ours.  (Can we interest you in a summer internship?)  TABSK

[snw]

Very nice. This can be rather good I think.

[sinclairfan]

Dear TABSK--Cheryl here.  I had it out with my husband's Yelp troll, Andrea.  Thank you, Nina, for telling me what my heart felt everytime Andrea and I interacted for the past 18 years.  From the first time I saw her glammed up picture on her business card, her blonde hair and girl-next-store image matching mine ...... and every girlfriend my husband had before me.  My racing heart told me that Andrea and I were headed towards a confrontation.  I tried to convince myself otherwise-- that Andrea was in other relationships, that she would marry someday, that her relationship with my husband was business-only.  My head gave her the benefit of the doubt, but my heart, my gut, my woman's intuition all told me otherwise.  Why did it take me until yesterday to listen, you ask?  Oh, I listened, ....  I just didn't act.  Why not?  Oh, lots of ..... seemed-like-a-good-idea-at-the-time excuses.  Don't rock the boat, Cheryl.  My husband needs the business.  Don't "reward" Andrea with the attention.  Don't acknowledge what she's doing, or energy between her and my husband.  Don't show her that you feel threatened by her.  Her feelings will go away. 
But, no Cheryl, no they won't.  Andrea IS  a threat.  Andrea IS what she seems.  Andrea WILL do the unthinkable ..   she WILL fuck your husband, and then do it again, and then ultimately steal him.  That's what women like her do .... if wives like me let them.
Thank God the internet makes women like her show their feelings.  Thank God she posted what she did on Yelp.
I bucked up, Nina.  I asked my husband to ask her for her home address.  And on a Friday night after work, I drove to her house.  I wasn't as nervous as I expected to be.  I was horny.  So horny that I masturbated thru my jeans at every red light.
Jeans.  So she's know why I was coming over.  So she couldn't scratch me.  Same reason I wore them to high school fights, back in the day.
It worked.  When she saw me at the door, she knew why I was there.  She let me in.  We didn't say much--my throat was dry anyways.  Maybe hers was too.  We went to her empty den.
We pulled each others' blonde hair out by the roots.  I always hated hairpulling in fight I had been in.  It seemed like an admission that I was unable to fight with fists, or that I'm not good with my hands, even though I am.  But we were throwing each other into the walls by our heads, and I was afraid to let go.  I wasn't afraid of her, though.  I was too full of hate for her.  As she was for me.
<> You fucking bitch, Andrea.  I'll fucking maim you.
<> Here's your chance, Cheryl.  You should have told me before.
<> I've hated you from Day One, you homewrecking shut.
<> I've wanted to do this as long as I've known you, hun.
<> Because you're fucking jealous of me, Andrea.
<> Your husband wants to fuck me, bitch, just let him.
<> I'll mess you up so much, you won't me able to, bitch.

Back and forth we went, the closed den barely able to contain our hate for each other.  Blonde hair started gather on the grey carpet, as I started smelling Andrea's sweat, a feminine smell I could only recall from high school sleepovers and catfights.  Since my marriage to my husband, all my socializing had been with men.  A part of me had forgotten how to stand up to women like Andrea, to be the alpha in a roo. of women.  Is this why I hadn't stood up to her sooner?  Why I was in denial about her challenge to me?

We fell in a catball on the floor.  Our legs wrapped around each other.  My horniness came back, raging like it had been in the car.  I desperately mounted Andrea, wanting to ground and pound her.  I formed a fist, but she grabbed my breasts thru my blouse.  She used her knees to hit my back.  I enjoyed the feeling between my legs of rocking back and forth on her, and wanted to arouse and then relieve myself.  I required very little touch to get "over the top" the feeling on being on top of her, and the hate between us being sufficient.  I hoped she wouldn't notice that I was orgasming.... but I was, and in waves.

<> Fuck you, Andrea.
<> Fuck you, Cheryl.

The words "Fuck you, Cheryl" have always made me cum.  I came, clearing my head.  I head an irresistible urge to punch Andrea in the face.  We scrambled to our feet and squared up.  Judging by her stance,, she had clearly been in fights before.  Good, I thought.

Andrea and I traded jabs and right crosses to the face.  Our feminine hate overcame our judgment built by
prior fight experience.  We just wanted to mess up each others' face.

After a good dozen or so punches to the face each, we came together in a clinch.  Her sweat smell overcame me.  Our noses came together.  Then our mouths.  Then our tongues.

We pulled each other close and were kissing in the center of then den.  Then down the walls.  Then on the floor.  I wanted to mount her again, to rock back and forth on her.  I tore off my jeans desperately, and offered my dripping pussy to her mouth.  She got me off as I screamed in pleasure.

She begged me to finger her.  I told her to fuck off.  I put my clothes back on, and scrambled to my car  ..... confused ..... disgusted.

That was yesterday.  I haven't heard from her since.

I told my husband what happened.  He and I made love to the story.

TABSK, I',m glad I did what I did.  I feel like I won, but I'm not positive.  Did I?  Cheryl

Dear Cheryl--Goodness, a lot to unpack there.  Tons of energy between you and Andrea, that needed to be released, and at least partially was.  Glad you faced your demons .... and your demon.   (You are, too, right??)   Beyond that--Nina, ready to start earning tour internship offer?  TABSK