Here's one that hasn't seen the light of day for a while. One from my Club series, and of my longest stories. Hope you enjoy it.
Sarah Beckett stepped out of the shower in her fine
home and reached for a large towel. The towel was
almost as long as the short blonde woman with the
high, small breasts. Dripping, she toweled herself
roughly. Her pink nipples lengthened and became erect
in the cool air and under the vigorous application of
the terrycloth.
She heard her husband stirring in the bedroom outside
the large bathroom. She heard him mumble something.
Folding the towel around herself, she stepped out of
the steamed up bathroom. Her husband, Franklin, was
knotting a red silk tie around the collar of his
custom-made shirt.
"What did you say, dear?" Sarah casually dropped the
towel on the carpet, and reached for her Chinese-print
robe that rested on the bedspread.
Franklin turned around to catch a glimpse of naked
thighs and sparse pubic hair before the robe concealed
his wife's nakedness.
"I said, don't forget dinner tonight. It's
important."
Sarah ran her fingers through her medium length wet
hair. She said, "I remember. Who is it again?"
Franklin finished knotting his tie. He reached for
his jacket. "Clark Walker and his wife."
Sarah froze for a second. "Anne Walker?" She tried
to make her tone casual.
"That's right. Do you know her?"
A half-smile that could have concealed a sneer crossed
her face. "Oh, I might have run into her a time or
two."
Franklin regarded himself in the mirror, adjusting his
suit. "Well, good. We'll leave here at seven and
pick up Clark and Anne. Dinner is at Odell's. Wear
something nice."
She leaned forward as he brushed her cheek with his
lips. "Oh, I've got some killer outfits."
After Franklin left, Sarah stared at her reflection in
the mirror. She thought to herself, Oh yes. Dinner
with Anne.
The bitch.
She opened her robe. She ran her hand along the curve
of her breasts. She slipped her other hand down and
parted the lips of her mound. She shivered under her
deliberate stroking, remembering the clash of breasts
and the wet slam of her cxnt against Anne's.
I hate that woman, she thought. I will mount her and
destroy her. I will...I will...
Her thoughts lost coherence as she fell to the floor
in orgasmic spasm, fluid spurting onto her twitching
fingers.
At the same time that Sarah was surrendering to her
self-induced orgasm as she dreamed of sexual combat,
Anne Walker was preparing to get her day started. The
petite dark-haired woman selected a pair of
custom-fitted black jeans and a tight, form-fitting
sweater.
She sat on the bed and worked the jeans up over her
thighs and past the blue bikini briefs. The lacy
weave of the panties revealed a dark patch of hair
between her thighs. She then slipped the sweater over
her shoulders and round, dark-nippled breasts. She
usually didn't bother with a bra.
After she dressed, Anne telephoned Claudine's, an
exclusive spa and beauty salon. Using just the right
tone of bitchiness (and a promise of a fifty to the
woman who controlled appointments), she secured an
11:00 AM time slot for a facial, pedicure, manicure,
and massage.
It was cold and windy outside. The morning's weather
report promised falling temperatures and the
possibility of an ice storm late tonight. Anne donned
a full length sable coat and got behind the wheel of
her Lincoln. She hit the memory button on the seat
and it automatically raised and moved forward to the
optimum seating position for the short brunette.
She was looking forward to tonight's dinner with
anticipation. She had known for a week that she and
Clark were going to dine with Franklin and Sarah
Beckett. With delicious eagerness, she imagined the
oh-so-polite encounter with Sarah. Their husbands, of
course, knew nothing of their contests. The
occasional bruise or scratch was explained away with
some trivial excuse.
They would communicate their lust for battle with
innuendo and subterfuge. They would say things to
each other that superficially would sound sweet, but
the subtext would be a verbal slap to the face. Their
honeyed words would be like clawed hands to the
breasts. The kind phrases would intrude like
clutching fingers to the dripping cxnt.
And who knew? They could contrive some time to be
alone together. A trip to the lady’s room, perhaps?
Anne gripped the leather covered steering wheel
tightly and narrowed her brown eyes in sexual anger.
The parking valet at Claudine's drove off in her
Lincoln. She entered the revolving door into the
hushed sounds and pleasant fragrances of the spa. She
gave her name to the receptionist who called another
young lady up front to escort Anne back to a changing
room.
Inside the small room, Anne removed her coat, jeans
and sweater. She slipped on a short peach-colored
shift. She was naked under the shift except for her
panties. Her nipples were evident through the thin
cotton fabric.
During the next 45 minutes, Anne enjoyed the
ministrations of several young women as they pampered
her hands, feet, and face. After the invigorating
facial, she was led to the back of the spa for her
massage. The massage room had several tables that
could be hidden from view by curtains. Anne saw that
one other table was occupied, the curtains drawn for
privacy.
The attendant said, "Your masseuse will be here in
about ten minutes, Ms. Walker."
Anne sat on the table next to the occupied one. The
attendant drew the curtain closed around her and left
the room.
Anne pulled the shift over her head and draped it on a
folding chair. She stretched out on her back, nude
except for her panties. She put her hands behind her
head and closed her eyes.
Anne heard the curtain across from her slide back
quietly. She opened her eyes and raised herself onto
one elbow. What was this?
With a sudden violent motion, the curtain surrounding
her table was thrown open. She saw Sarah Beckett
standing there. Like Anne, she was wearing only brief
panties.
Sarah looked down at Anne. Both women were
conditioned by several encounters. Their bodies'
reactions were beyond conscious control. Sexual rage
inflamed their eyes. Their nipples swiftly became
erect. The lips of their pussies became swollen.
Beads of moisture appeared on the labia.
Sarah said, in a poisonously sweet tone, "Why, Anne
darling! Imagine running into you here."
Anne smiled. And bared her teeth.
Anne Walker slowly rose from the massage table. She
maintained her smile as she moved closer to Sarah,
until their faces were six inches apart. Anne's
round, dark-nippled breasts were almost touching
Sarah's smaller, conical breasts.
The petite women faced each other, their arms akimbo.
Anne said, "So, cxnt. You're here to get pretty for
our date?" Anne tossed her head, her dark curls
moving up and down.
Sarah replied, "As if I'd get ready for you, bitch."
She sneered. "This is solely for the benefit of your
husband. I'd thought I'd show him what a woman looks
like."
Anne moved forward just a bit. She could feel her
hard nipples barely graze Sarah's breasts, about an
inch below the blonde woman's nipples.
Anne said, "Clark wouldn't look at you twice. He's
got something better than a bottle-blonde skank with
the tits of a thirteen-year old and the pussy of a
plastic love doll. And I bet your husband won't be
able to keep his eyes off me."
Sarah slowly raised her right hand. Her light blue
eyes narrowed. Anne, in mirror image, brought her
left hand up.
Sarah growled, as her hand met Anne's in a tight,
finger-interlocked grip, "Franklin wouldn't even fuck
you with someone else's dick. He's got the real thing
at home."
Anne stared at Sarah as their hands gripped each
other. They started to press with their shoulders,
pushing at each other. Their foreheads touched. As
their one-armed contest continued, their bodies came
into nearly full contact. Their swollen breasts
merged and pressed against each other. They shifted
the position of their legs and their thighs slipped
together. The cloth of their panties whispered
together.
"Oh, you fucking slut-bitch," Sarah said.
Anne felt the moist exhalation of the blonde woman's
breath. She pressed forward with her legs and slowly
Sarah backed up, until they came to the edge of the
Sarah's massage table. Anne continued to push
forward, and brought her other arm up.
Sarah suddenly worked her leg to the back of Anne's,
and pushed. Anne went down in a sitting position, her
round ass hitting the tile floor with a solid slap.
She swung her leg rapidly, and Sarah's balance was
upset. Down she came.
Anne pitched forward from the waist and pushed off
with her legs. She landed on top of Sarah as the
blonde was struggling to rise from the fall. Sarah
raised her arm and grabbed a handful of dark curls and
pulled.
Anne grunted in pain and slammed both her hands down
onto Sarah's naked breasts. Sarah gasped in shock and
pulled harder and rolled. She found herself on top of
the dark-haired woman. Anne spread her legs quickly
and formed a waist-scissors and squeezed.
Anne panted, "I'll fuck you up, Beckett! I'll squeeze
you until you explode!"
Sarah got to her knees, with Anne's strong thighs
still clenched around her waist. The blonde woman
extended her arms and clutched onto Anne's tits.
Anne almost yelled from the pain. She was forced to
relinquish her scissors. She placed her arms between
Sarah's and slowly pried the hands away from her
aching breasts. Angry red marks indicated the
pressure that Sarah had used.
Just then, both women heard the lock jiggle. Someone
was coming in.
Just like two little girls discovered doing something
wrong, they quickly separated and got to their feet.
They walked unsteadily towards their respective
massage tables and pulled the curtains around them.
They collapsed face down on the tables as the door
opened.
The two masseuses walked in. Anne's masseuse came in
and said hello. Anne's response was a non-committal
grunt. The masseuse shrugged and went to work.
As the strong fingers dug into Anne's shoulders and
back, trickles of moisture oozed through the thin
weave of her panties and fell on the massage table.
Forty-five minutes later, both women were dressed and
exiting Claudine's. Sarah was wearing corduroy slacks
and a brown turtleneck. Both felt half-drugged from
the brief intense encounter and the subsequent
massage.
As Sarah got into her Land Rover, she said, "See you
tonight, bitch. This isn't finished."
Anne stood by her Lincoln, her hair swirling in the
brisk cold breeze. "I'll decide when things are
finished, slut. We'll be ready."
The women drove off in opposite directions. Along the
way, each of them envisioned tonight's dinner. Like
opposing generals, they pondered strategy and tactics.
At six-thirty that evening, Sarah was fresh from the
shower and examining her wardrobe. She pulled down
several dresses from the huge closet in their master
bedroom and laid them on the bed. One by one, she
held them up in front of her naked body and examined
herself in the full-length mirrors.
She decided on a dark red Vera Wang. It was made of
exquisite layers of silk and was a backless number
that had a thin strap around the neck. The bodice
separated into two narrow bands that cupped the
breasts. The neckline plunged to the navel. The
hemline would brush the instep of her feet, which
would perch on strappy Liz Claiborne high-heeled
sandals. The dress was slit on the left side from hem
to hip. Unless Sarah exhibited tight control when
walking or sitting, she would be flashing anyone who
looked at her. And Sarah would wear nothing under the
dress.
Franklin, already dressed in his Armani suit, waited
patiently downstairs. He checked the weather forecast
on television for the fifteenth time. The chances
were about even that an ice storm would blanket the
area before midnight.
Finally, Sarah descended the staircase in her stunning
outfit. Franklin had to admire her. She was a blonde
vision clothed in elegance. Her narrow-waisted body
filled the dress to perfection. Her straight blonde
hair was casually set in a windblown style that suited
her. She was wearing ruby earrings and a simple gold
chain that nestled in her cleavage. The glimpses of
her shapely legs and pretty feet were enough to stir
his masculinity.
The night was cold and overcast, and the chill winds
were enough to stiffen Sarah's nipples, but soon they
were nestled in the soft leather of the Bentley's
front seats. They sped along the streets of the city
towards the exclusive neighborhood where Anne Walker
and her husband lived.
They pulled up to the driveway of a large traditional
two-story house. Sarah had never seen it before. She
noted idly that it was at least equal in stature to
her own house. Financially, most of the women in the
club were equals. Once you got past a net worth of
ten million, there wasn't much point in counting.
Franklin parked by the side entrance and got out of
the car. Sarah waited while he came around to open
her door. She stepped out, pulling her mink coat
around her shoulders. They stepped up the door and
Franklin pushed the doorbell.
It was Clark who opened the door. He was dressed in a
dark-blue Saville Row suit with a traditional striped
tie. He said, in a booming voice, "Come on in! It's
too cold to be out long. Hello, Franklin, it's good
to see you again!"
Franklin shook hands with the other man. He stepped
to one side, and Sarah came forward.
Clark smiled broadly. "Well, my dear, I can see why
Franklin just keeps talking about you. How wonderful
to finally meet you."
Sarah smiled broadly and leaned forward to allow her
cheek to be kissed. Like Franklin, Clark was a tall,
dark-haired man in his early forties. He had a
pleasantly handsome face and a charming manner.
She said, "It's a pleasure to meet you. I imagine
Anne has told you that we know each other slightly."
Clark said, "Yes, she said you belong to some of the
same clubs. Well, I'm sure this is an opportunity to
get better acquainted. Anne should just be a few
minutes. Why don't you come to the living room and
we'll have ourselves a short one?"
Sarah and Franklin followed their host down the hall.
The living room was furnished in rich leather and dark
polished woods. Clark busied himself about the bar as
Sarah and Franklin took seats on the sofa.
Sarah heard the quiet tocking sound of high heels on a
hardwood floor. She looked at the other entrance to
the living room as Anne walked in. Sarah had never
seen Anne really dressed up, and she had to admit, the
bitch looked good.
The petite dark-haired woman was wearing a long Calvin
Klein dress made of beaded blue fabric. The top was
suspended by spaghetti straps and gathered itself over
Anne's round breasts. The bumps of the nipples could
be clearly seen. The dress had an empire waist that
emphasized the bust line. It descended in folds
toward the floor. It had several slits, and one of
Anne's bare legs was visible up to mid-thigh. Like
Sarah, she wore high-heeled sandals that stressed the
fine lines of her calves. Her toes were painted in a
lustrous dark red. Diamonds glittered at her ears and
throat.
Franklin stood up when she came into the room. Clark
turned around, and said, "Hello, dear. My, you do
look superb."
Anne walked over to the couch, extending her hand.
She turned her head to her husband, and said, "Oh,
thank you, dear. If that's a martini you're mixing,
I'd love one." She turned to Franklin and looked up.
"It's so wonderful to meet you. I've really been
looking forward to this evening." She moved her cheek
forward to be kissed as she held Franklin's hand.
Sarah stood up, a perfect smile on herself. "Hello
there, Anne. You look smashing."
Anne turned to Sarah, her smile matching the blonde's.
"How kind of you, dear. You look gorgeous in that
dress." Both women leaned their cheeks forward and
touched them briefly, making slight kissing noises.
They were rescued from more small talk when Clark came
over with the tray of martinis. Each person took one,
and they raised their glasses.
Franklin said heartily, "To new friends!" They sipped
the chilled and potent drinks.
They chattered a bit. Sarah and Anne didn't pay much
attention to the conversation, nodding briefly and
making non-committal noises. They stole glances at
each other's bodies whenever they could and compared
themselves point-to-point. The evening had begun.
After a few minutes, they laid the empty glasses on
the sterling silver tray. Franklin said, "Let's be
off, shall we? The weather is a bit risky, and I'd
like to get to Odell's for a cocktail before dinner
proper."
There were nods and sounds of assent. They gathered
their coats and wraps, and proceeded off to the
Bentley. The chill winds blew outside, in odd
counterpoint to the heat, unnoticed by the men,
between the two expensively clad and bejeweled women.
The valet took charge of the Bentley as the foursome
entered the sedate and rarefied atmosphere of Odell's.
They gave their coats and wraps to the coat-check
woman. The muted sounds of the jazz quartet could be
heard as the headwaiter led them to their table.
They were seated at a square table set off in an
alcove. Pure white linen covered the table. Sarah
and Anne sat at adjacent sides, and the men sat so
they faced the other's spouse. A few minutes were
taken with drink orders.
Anne regarded the surroundings. Diners in other
alcoves were visible in the subdued light. The
darkness under the tables was almost complete. As she
lay her handbag down by the edge of her chair, she
surreptitiously undid the straps on her sandals. She
let the shoes slide off her bare feet.
As if telepathically connected, Sarah did the same
thing. The blonde woman nodded to something Clark
said, and smiled. She placed her naked foot on the
firm carpeting. She edged it to the left.
Anne felt the edge of Sarah's foot on her own. She
turned to Sarah and smiled. Anne raised her right
foot slowly, and placed her toes on the instep of
Sarah's foot. She pressed down...softly at first, then
with greater pressure.
Sarah continued to make small talk as her foot met
Anne's in a silent contest. She was about to bring
her right foot into play when the drinks arrived. The
women brought their feet back to neutral position,
under their chairs. After the drinks were delivered,
their waiter arrived and gave them the menus and
advised them of the specials.
After the waiter left, they perused the menu. Sarah
quietly moved her foot over to Anne's. She curled her
toes downward, lifted her foot, and brought it down
swiftly on Anne's instep.
Anne almost gasped as she felt the painted nails of
Sarah's foot hit her flesh. With remarkable control,
she kept her face neutral. She brought her left foot
around and used it to push Sarah's foot and its
stabbing nails off her tender instep.
The two women raised their toes up. Their feet rested
on the carpet on the bare heels. Then suddenly,
silently, their feet joined under the table, the toes
meshing with each other and pressing. Each woman
tried for advantage, bending and twisting the digits
so that a toe could be squeezed and bent. During this
silent war, they looked steadfastly at the menu.
Sarah raked her toenails against the top of Anne's
feet. Anne used her own deep red nails and stabbed at
the sole of Sarah's feet. If anyone could have seen
under the table, the feet would have looked like
wrestling hands, twisting back and forth within a
narrow range. It was a quiet battle, the only sounds
being the hushed whisper of skin against skin.
The foot fight was interrupted when the waiter came
back to take their orders. Both Sarah and Anne
ordered the Trout Almandine. Clark asked for a veal
chop, while Franklin decided on the Coq au Vin.
After the menus were taken away, Sarah and Anne let
their feet recover from the beneath-the-table war.
The blonde woman was surprised when she heard Clark
say, "Say, Franklin, do you mind if I dance with your
beautiful wife?"
Franklin smiled, and said, "Only if I can dance with
your lovely woman."
Both women looked flustered for a second, then smiled.
They quickly reached down and got their naked feet
back into their high-heeled sandals. A quick tug to
fasten the straps, and they stood up.
Clark extended his broad hand to the petite blonde in
the dark red dress. Sarah took his hand and the made
their way around the corner to the end of the room
where the jazz quartet was playing a slow, smoky swing
number.
Franklin took Anne's hand, and led the small but
gorgeous brunette in the blue dress to the dance
floor. There were only a few other couples swaying to
the music.
The two women danced in the arms of the enemy's
husbands. They stole glances at each other as the
swirl of the movement brought them into visual range.
Sarah saw that Anne had closed the distance between
herself and Sarah's husband. You could not fit a
piece of paper between the two. In response, Sarah
pulled herself closer to Clark. She could feel his
muscular chest press against her breasts. And she
smiled to herself because despite Clark's efforts to
hold his pelvis away, she could feel the stirring of
his erection.
Anne saw her husband and her rival press close
together. She countered by sliding her arm down and
around from Franklin's side to the edge of his
buttocks. An increased pressure of Franklin's arm
rewarded her.
The couples continued to dance to the slow music. As
they passed each other, whenever they thought they
could get away with it, Anne and Sarah stared daggers
at each other. They glared their hostility, and knew
that this evening could only end in one way.
Somehow, they would do real battle. The sexual rage
would only intensify to the point that their bodies
must meet in urgent sensuous fury.
The music ended and the couples on the dance floor
applauded lightly. The men thanked the women for the
dances, and the women nodded sweetly. The foursome
returned to their table.
They were deep into their entrees and on a second
bottle of Merlot as Sarah tried to think of a way to
get away with Anne for an hour or so. They made
polite chit-chat about work, books and movies.
As the dishes were cleared away from the table, Sarah
stood up and said, "Well, I have to make a little trip
to the loo, as they say in England. Care to join me,
Anne?"
The dark-haired woman stood up, and said, "Sure.
Powder the old nose and such."
The men stood up briefly as they left the table.
Franklin turned to Clark and said, "I'm really glad
that the women are getting on so well. I think that
they could be great friends."
Clark sipped his wine and nodded. "Absolutely. We're
lucky men. With some women, you'd think that the only
thing they would want to do is slip away and get into
some kind of fight."
The "great friends" made their way to the ladies room.
The room was large, quiet, and empty.
They got inside, and Sarah turned suddenly to Anne.
The blonde woman grabbed Anne's shoulders and brought
her face within an inch of Anne's. She hissed, "You
know as well as I do that this can end only one way,
don't you?"
Anne brought her arms up and broke Sarah's grip off
her shoulders. She replied, growling, "Damn right I
know it. You are the nerviest bitch I've ever met,
Beckett. The way you nearly climbed on top of my
husband on the dance floor was disgusting!"
Sarah curled her lips in a snarl. "What about you,
Walker? Were you going to hump Franklin out there
until he came in his pants? Was that your idea?"
Anne sneered, "Oh, he wanted me, you bitch. I could
tell."
Sarah raised her voice, "You should have felt the
hard-on your man was sporting, slut. It's probably
never been that rigid before."
"cxnt!"
"Candy-ass whore!"
Both women drew their arms back and were about to let
loose a roundhouse blow when the bathroom door
suddenly flew open. They quickly turned to compose
themselves. To their shock, they saw Holly Cavanaugh
enter the room, followed by her friend Laura Stanton.
Holly was dressed in a low-cut emerald green Halston
gown. Her pixyish face was merry as she walked over
to where Sarah and Anne stood.
"Well, hello there, dears! It's so nice to see my
girls out and about. Laura, see that we are not
disturbed for a few minutes."
The busty redheaded woman opened the bathroom door and
left.
Holly gripped each woman by the upper arm and marched
Sarah and Anne back so that their butts were against
the rim of the washbasins. She stepped back and
pushed with her arms.
Sarah and Anne got the message. They moved up and sat
on the edge of the sink cabinet. The slits in the
skirts opened up, revealing their legs. Holly placed
her strong hands on their bare thighs and squeezed.
Saran and Anne said, "Hello, Holly," in subdued
voices. They didn't look at her.
Holly said, "I just came here to tell you something,
darlings. The message is this: I don't really mind if
a few members have some extra-curricular activities.
There is nothing I can do to really stop it."
Holly worked her hands up their thighs. She squeezed
and rubbed the fine flesh.
Holly continued, in her merry voice. "But if you ever
do anything that brings The Club to unfavorable
attention, I have enough dirt on each of you to
guarantee that you and your handsome men would be
reduced to poverty and professional disgrace. So a
word to the wise, sweeties. Be careful."
As she talked, Holly's hands found their unclothed
cxnts. With consummate skill, she probed and stroked
the rapidly moistening pussies. Despite themselves,
Sarah and Anne started to breathe heavily under
Holly's onslaught. They each started to lean on Holly
and their eyes closed with fervent arousal.
Holly suddenly pulled her arms back. Sarah and Anne
gasped, their eyes swimming.
Holly quickly kissed each of them in turn, her mouth
warm and wet. She stood back.
"I'm sure we'll remember this, ladies. You have a
good night, now." Holly turned and left the bathroom.
Sarah and Anne stood for a second, as their senses
came back to normal. They didn't speak to each other.
They went to separate stalls and urinated. They
patted themselves dry (and it was more than pee that
they wiped away) and came out and washed their hands.
Just before they left the bathroom, Sarah turned to
Anne and said, "We're still doing it?"
Anne nodded. Suddenly a steely determination arose.
"Yes. Damn that Cavanaugh bitch, anyway. We're still
going to do it."
When the women returned to the table, Clark and
Franklin were discussing the possibility of dessert.
The women looked at each other. Normally, this would
be an opportunity to indulge in a beloved sugar-fest,
but the encounter in the ladies room with Holly had
killed their appetite.
Sarah turned to her husband. "Franklin, dear, I had a
glance outside. It's turning rather nasty out there.
Perhaps we should get home before it gets any worse."
Franklin nodded. "You're quite right, dear. Everyone
agree?"
Both Clark and Anne nodded.
Franklin signaled for the check. Five minutes later,
they were back in the Bentley. The wind was blowing
hard, and sleet was spitting everywhere.
They drove back, the wind making the car buck a
little. After a particular bad gust sent them over on
the shoulder for a few seconds, Franklin pulled over
and set his flashers on.
He turned to Anne and Clark in the back seat. He
said, "You know, I'm a little worried about this.
What do you say about proceeding directly to our
house? It's a lot closer and we could put you up for
the night."
Both Sarah and Anne felt a little inward quiver of
excitement.
Clark said to his wife, "Dear, it's probably the best
thing to do. Do you mind?"
Anne glanced at Sarah and saw the anticipatory gleam
in her eyes. "Not at all. I think it would be fun to
have a sleep-over." She grinned.
Franklin smiled, and said, "Mi casa es su casa." He
glanced in the side-view mirror, and pulled the
Bentley back out onto the road.
A few minutes later, after one near-skid on an icy
curve, they were safely within the garage at the
Beckett house. Shortly, they were sitting in the
living room, warming their bodies by a crackling blaze
in front of an enormous fireplace.
Franklin went to the bar and poured four snifters of
brandy. He distributed the drinks. They sipped the
pleasant liquor and chatted about the weather.
After noticing a couple of half-hidden yawns, Franklin
suggested to Sarah that they show the Walkers around
the house, and particularly, the room they would be
staying in.
Sarah said, "Of course, dear." She rose from her seat
and waited for the Walkers to follow her.
She gave them a brief five-minute tour of the large
and expansive household, pointing out the necessary
facilities. Finally she led them down the upstairs
hall to a large guestroom furnished with two double
beds and several antiques.
Anne said, "This will be wonderful, Sarah. Say, could
you show me the kitchen again?"
Sarah said, "Of course. Clark, why don't you just
make yourself comfortable?"
Clark stretched out in an overstuffed easy chair. He
slipped his shoes off. "That's a wonderful idea. See
you in a few minutes, dear."
As soon as they were out of earshot in the kitchen,
Sarah turned to Anne and said, "There's a large room
down the stairs and into the basement. Do you think
you can get your husband asleep within the hour?"
Anne said, with a knowing female grin, "I can pretty
much guarantee it."
Sarah said, "I'll be doing the same. He'll be out
like a light." She looked around, then grabbed Anne's
upper arms strongly. She leaned in, and said
fiercely, "Then it's you and me, bitch!"
Anne broke the grip with a flurry of motion. She
hooked her arm around Sarah's naked back, and grabbed
her right breast and squeezed. Sarah gasped. Anne
hissed at her, "I'll be down there, Beckett!"
They glared at each other, and separated. Anne went
to the guestroom upstairs, and Sarah ambled to the
master bedroom on the ground floor.
When Sarah entered the bedroom, she saw that her
husband had already removed everything but his boxers.
She closed the door behind her, and went over to him.
He turned around and pulled her into his strong arms.
He said, "How about it, darling? I'm more than
ready."
She reached down and felt the rock-hard tube of flesh
between his legs. She slipped her hand inside his
shorts, and caressed his penis. One finger found a
drop of slick, sticky moistness on the tip of his
cock. She swirled her finger around it, and brought
the smeared finger to her lips. He watched, mouth
open, as she licked his pre-come off her finger.
She stepped back and flicked off the light switch. A
dim glow from the bedside lamp illuminated them. He
pulled off his boxers and stood there naked, his hard
cock sticking straight out of his curly thatch of
pubic hair. She undid the knot on the back of her
neck and let the front of her dress fall forward. Her
small, conical breasts appeared, crowned with stiff
pink nipples.
She sat down on the bed and took his cock into her
mouth. Franklin groaned as Sarah energetically sucked
his penis to the root. She worked her muscular tongue
over the head of his cock, paying particular attention
to the underside of the glans. She pulled her head
back partway, and started to jack him off with her
slim hand, her fist moving up and down on the fleshy
tube.
Under her expert ministrations, Franklin could not
last long. Sarah, sensing his impending orgasm,
intensified the sucking and hand motion.
Franklin let out a long, guttural sound from the back
of his throat. He placed his hand on the back of
Sarah's head, grabbing a handful of her blonde hair.
His hips bucked.
Sarah felt the first forceful blast of come hit the
back of her throat. She continued to pump his cock
with her hand as she moved her head back. Another jet
of semen landed on her tongue. She then pulled her
mouth off his cock, and looked up at her husband. He
yelled and spurted again. A white plume splashed on
Sarah's lipsticked mouth. She directed the cock
downward. Another lunge of his hips, and a rope of
come hit her neck. He sprayed again, looping a line
on the top of her breasts.
When he finally finished, Sarah was liberally
decorated. She licked the semen from her lips and
swallowed, as Franklin collapsed on the bed.
She stood up and pulled the dress back over her
come-streaked breasts. Franklin said, "Uh...aren't you
coming to bed?" His eyes were already drowsy.
She quickly pulled the covers back, and worked her
husband into bed. She said, "I've got to clean up.
You sleep."
Franklin made a muffled snoring sound. Sarah moved
the covers up over his shoulder, turned out the
bedside lamp, and left the room. She would go do
battle with her husband's secretions on her skin, like
ribbons of valor.
Meanwhile, Anne was flat on her back on one of the
double beds in the guestroom. Her dress was pulled
down in front, the straps untied. Her husband was
thrusting his diamond-hard cock between her round
breasts, panting as he did so.
Anne's head was against a pillow. With each thrust of
the penis between her tits, she moved her mouth
forward, and the head of the cock bullied its way in.
The tip of his cock was wet and shiny. She pushed her
breasts together and made a tunnel that was getting
slick with sweat and pre-come.
Clark's hips moved faster as he tit-fucked his wife.
He looked down at the lewd way his wife licked the tip
of his thrusting cock. It set him over the edge.
With a roar, he spilled his semen in spurting streams
that hit his wife's lips and mouth. Each contraction
of his buttocks meant another spray of come, pooling
in the hollow of her neck and coating the valley
between her breasts.
After he finished coming, he collapsed backwards on
the bed. Anne wasted no time in arranging the covers
and pillows of the bed. Soon her husband was tucked
in.
She brought the front of her dress up and retied the
straps on her shoulder. The material of the dress was
sticky against the wet semen spattered between her
breasts. She left the room and headed downstairs.
She would do battle with her husband's secretions on
her skin, like ribbons of valor.
Anne found the stairs easily and walked down. She was
barefoot, and didn't make a sound. Off the main hall,
she found the other flight of stairs that led down to
the basement. The entrance to the basement was
through a broad, short hallway. She could make out
the flickering of firelight.
She turned the corner into a large, carpeted room with
casual furniture along the walls and a small
fireplace. A brisk fire was blazing there. A couple
of candles were also burning. The fireplace and
candles were the only light in the room.
Suddenly a match flared. She saw the figure of Sarah
across the room, lighting one last candle. She blew
out the match and tossed it into the fireplace. She
came forward into the firelight, and Anne saw that she
still wore the dark red backless dress. She was also
barefoot. And Anne knew that Sarah was just as naked
under her dress as she was.
Sarah was quiet, regarding her rival with steady eyes.
She was eager, but she was also relaxed. She felt
fit and warmed up.
Anne came into the room and stood a few feet away from
the blonde. She noticed the drying streaks on Sarah's
skin, the stains on her dress. She said, "I see you
managed to pacify your man."
Sarah saw the tracks on Anne's skin. "As you did."
Anne said, "And when this is over? Will I taste the
pleasure of your husband's favors?"
Sarah said, "It'll be me who does the tasting, bitch."
The women started to slowly circle each other. They
kept their hands down by their sides, the fingers
flexing. They kept their eyes on each other, seeking
a clue where the first strike would spring from.
Their bare feet made light skritching noises as they
walked and circled. The candles and firelight danced
on their skin. Outside the high windows along one
wall of the basement, the wind moaned and the sleet
made cold, wet splats against the glass.
Their movements brought them along opposite sides of
the sofa, near the ends. The walked towards the
center of the couch, Anne in back of it. The faced
each other over the barrier.
"Do you feel safe over there, baby?" Sarah said,
taunting.
"As if I'd feel endangered anywhere around you, slut,"
Anne shot back.
"Then come on over, baby," Sarah hissed.
"Why don't you make me?" Anne said.
The schoolyard repartee inflamed Sarah. She reached
quickly and grabbed the front of Anne's dress and
pulled sharply. The straps broke and the front of the
dress fell down and Anne's round, dark-nippled breasts
came into view, the globes beautiful in the firelight.
Her husband's semen tracks could clearly be seen
between the tits.
Anne returned the favor. With a backhand swipe of her
arm, she pulled the front of Sarah's dark red dress
down, tearing the thin cloth. Sarah's high, conical,
pink-nippled breasts flashed out.
Both women stood there a second, viewing each other.
Then Anne leaped over the back of the couch and
slammed into the blonde woman. The two petite
warriors hit the carpeted floor with a thud, and they
flailed away at each other, ripping the rest of their
clothing to shreds as they tumbled back and forth on
the floor.
When they pulled back from each other to catch their
breath, only a few tattered scraps of the expensive
dresses remained. Sarah's sparsely-haired cxnt was
visible, the lips of her pussy slightly open. She
could see Anne's dark tangle of pubic hair, the labia
winking into view now and again.
They got to their feet, naked except for a few strips
of cloth. Both women brushed away the remnants of
their dresses and stared angrily at each other.
Anne said, "What kind of a woman are you? Are your
tits good enough to go against mine?" She thrust her
chest out, her round breasts bouncing.
Sarah retorted, "My tits will bend yours flat." With
that, she jumped at Anne and wrapped her arms around
the brunette with a bone-crushing bear hug. Sarah's
higher, conical breasts, with nipples as hard as
little pebbles, met Anne's bigger, but softer globes.
Anne gasped as the hard little points of Sarah's
nipples dug into her breast flesh. Her own nipples
lengthened in response. She also threw her arms
around the blonde woman, and they shuddered, standing
upright, fighting for balance. Their naked bodies
pressed against each other, and their foreheads leaned
hard together. They grimaced as their breasts fought
and tangled, raking from side to side to score the
tender skin.
Their hips slammed into each other as they struggled
for balance. Their pubic hair brushed together as
their cxnts grew wet and swollen, the clits becoming
hot needles of sensation.
Anne felt her feet move too close together. Her
stability faltered, and Sarah, sensing advantage,
leaned into her. Anne toppled backwards onto the
carpet, with Sarah right on top. They hit the floor,
and Anne's legs were driven apart by Sarah's hips.
Their pussies made slamming contact. Sarah's inflamed
labia smacked into Anne's vulva, and both women cried
out in sudden pain and unexpected animal pleasure.
Sarah spread her legs to open her cxnt lips and expose
the pink tube of her clitoris. She plunged her hips
down and felt her clit slide into Anne's cxnt and
tangle with the dark-haired woman's stiff pearl.
Anne felt waves of sensation radiate from her crotch.
She knew that she would have a screaming orgasm if
this continued, and that must not happen.
Anne grabbed two handfuls of blonde hair and pulled
up. Sarah grunted as her head was pulled up, but she
continued her frenzied fucking, her eyes shut and
mouth open. Anne let go of the hair with one hand,
and reached between them, to Sarah's left breast.
Anne felt the firm tit and her fingers found the
nipple. She positioned her thumbnail and forefinger
and squeezed hard.
Sarah yelped and rolled away from Anne, her hand
tenderly cradling the wounded tit. Anne lay there a
second, her cxnt wide open and leaking female juices,
as she caught her breath.
Sarah propped herself up on one arm, still holding
onto her breast. She looked at Anne and said,
"Goddamn bitch! Fucking cxnt!"
Anne got to her knees, hands resting on her thighs.
"I am not gonna lose this one, bitch!"
Sarah also rose to her knees, facing her rival.
"We'll see about that."
Anne said, "Let's go straight to the sexfight,
Beckett. That's what were here for."
Sarah nodded. "cxnt-to-cxnt it is."
The two women sat down on the floor and moved forward.
Their legs entwined and they pressed their cxnts
together. They wrapped their arms around each other
and pressed themselves firmly against each other.
Their breasts merged and they moved their heads to
each other's shoulders. Their faces were
expressionless as they shifted position for their best
contact.
Their arms and shoulders pulled, and they started to
rock together. Their wet cxnts slapped into each
other, and the fluids started to flow and leak from
between their thighs. They muttered obscenities and
threats as the slapping of the cxnts became faster.
Their eyes closed as they fought to make the other
woman come and to prevent their own treacherous
orgasm.
The staccato beat of their hips increased.
Intelligible words disappeared, to be replaced with
grunts and moans. Their breasts continued to slip and
bump, stiff nipples sending electric jolts of
sensation to their brains.
Their heads drew back from the shoulders and they
opened their eyes and looked at each other as the cxnt
battle continued. Their eyes became glazed and their
breath was hot and moist.
Sarah's moan reached a higher pitch and her body
started to rock. Her hips lost the rhythm of the
sexual combat.
In an erotic haze, Anne saw her advantage and pressed
it. She knew she was close herself, but Sarah was
closer. She grabbed the sides of Sarah's face with
her hands, and slammed her open mouth onto Sarah's.
Her hot, questing tongue dived into Sarah's mouth and
met Sarah's thrashing tongue.
Sarah lost it. She let loose of Anne and fell
backwards onto the floor, as Anne continued to hump
her with furious effort. Anne said, "YES! YES! YES!
COME, YOU FUCKING BITCH!"
Sarah came. She screamed a series of high-pitched
howls as her body shook with the incredible orgasm.
She felt her pelvis and vagina contract in sharp,
searing waves of raw lust, and her cxnt expelled a hot
flow of juice. Her breasts shook, the erect nipples
dancing their own erotic celebration.
The spurt of Sarah's juices into Anne's cxnt was
enough to trigger the dark-haired woman's orgasm. She
moaned and fell forwards slowly, her body shuddering
as it came into contact with Sarah's still climaxing
body. Anne let loose a long, undulating cry as she
came, her own sexual fluids issuing forth from her
cxnt.
After her breathing subsided, Anne rolled off Sarah
and lay flat on her back. She knew it wasn't over.
The battle was always to submission. One of them
would have to give up.
For five minutes they lay there. Then Sarah got to
her feet, unsteadily. She looked down at Anne, her
petite body resting in the sensual firelight. The
bitch would pay.
Sarah opened the drawer on an end-table. She reached
in and pulled out two paper-wrapped objects. She
turned around to see Anne also getting to her feet.
Sarah said, "Round two, whore. Choose your weapon."
Sarah removed the paper and held both objects, one in
each hand.
Anne almost laughed. Sarah held two large dildos.
Each one was ten inches long and two inches thick,
incredibly realistic in color and texture. What made
these different were the handles. Each one had a
handle like a sword, with a hilt and pommel. The
handle was made of stiff plastic.
Anne took one. She slipped her hand around the handle
and hefted it. The artificial penis was a heavy,
flexible plastic, with detailed veins and tendons.
The glans was velvety smooth. She stroked the plastic
cock with her other hand. It was so realistic she
thought it could ejaculate if she stroked it enough.
Anne looked at Sarah. She was crouched in a fighting
position, the sword-dildo held in her right hand. She
was swinging it back and forth, her eyes fixed on
Anne.
Anne assumed her own fighting position. She bent down
a little, her sword-dildo also in her right hand. The
small naked women circled each other, sword hand
moving in slow dances, as they checked for an opening.
Sarah feinted right. Anne moved her sword-dildo to
counter, but Sarah ducked to the left, and thrust
forward. Her weapon made a stabbing punch to Anne's
gut. It didn't really hurt, but it enraged the
dark-haired woman. She swung her weapon down, and the
plastic dong hit Sarah's dildo. Anne saw a brief
opening and closed.
Sarah was pressed backwards by Anne's advance. Anne
thrust her weapon up. The head of the dildo went home
like a guided missile, and Sarah had six inches of
plastic dick up her twat.
She grunted and swung her own sword-dildo up. The
head slid along Anne's slick crotch for a second, then
found the opening. Sarah snarled, and fucked the
weapon home. Now both women had their sword-dildos
buried into the other's cxnt. Standing their, they
worked the artificial penises up and down and liquid
started to ooze around the thick plastic schlongs as
they worked the handles, trying to get even more of
the outrageous weapons buried in their rival's
vaginas.
Sarah suddenly pulled her weapon out of Anne's pussy,
and grabbed Anne's sword hand. The wet dildo pulled
out of her cxnt with a distinct plop as she pulled
Anne's hand out and up. She positioned her feet for
good balance and swung Anne around so that the
dark-haired woman was against one wall.
The quick movement had surprised Anne. She was taken
by surprise as Sarah pushed her against the wall with
a strong forearm against her chest. She tried to
break the hold with her hands, but Sarah quickly broke
her concentration as she drew her arm back and swung
it in, impaling Anne's cxnt forcefully with the dildo.
Anne yelled as eight inches of the sword-dildo
penetrated her vagina. The tip of the artificial dick
pressed against her cervix. Never in her life had she
been penetrated so deeply.
Sarah held her forearm against Anne's chest as she
twirled and thrust with the thick plastic penis. She
could hear the slurpy noises as Anne's cxnt gripped
the weapon and spewed forth more fluid in desperate
lubrication.
Anne was seconds away from a devastating orgasm. She
reached down with her hands and grabbed onto Sarah's
sword arm. She gripped it tightly and let her feet
buckle under her. The weight of her body was suddenly
on Sarah's arm, and she was forced to pull the dildo
from Anne's vagina.
As Anne crumpled to the ground, she saw an
opportunity. She thrust upward with her sword-dildo
and slipped it into Sarah's dripping cxnt. Sarah
screamed in pleasure and rage. Anne thrust upward
again. As Sarah tried to dance her way off the dildo,
she lost her balance and fell onto her back. The
dildo popped out.
Anne was on her like a hawk. She spread Sarah's legs
roughly, and slammed the dildo down into the
sparsely-haired, swollen cxnt. Keeping her distance,
she rapidly fucked her rival with the plastic weapon.
It was now Sarah's turn to face impending orgasm.
With her last bit of will, she kicked out. Her foot
hit Anne in the stomach, knocking her backwards.
Sarah got to her knees and made her way rapidly over
to Anne. She swung her legs over and sat down on the
dark-haired woman's chest, her cxnt resting over
Anne's sternum. She was facing Anne's feet.
With her legs pinning Anne's chest down, Sarah spread
Anne's legs wide apart. She held the legs apart with
one hand, and raised her weapon high overhead. She
brought it down in a perfect swing, and buried it in
Anne's cxnt.
Anne gasped. She was able to work her weapon arm
free. She looked forward, and saw Sarah's naked ass
resting on her tits. She got her left hand free and
pushed forward on the blonde woman's butt. It wasn't
sufficient to throw her off, but it was enough to
expose Sarah's pussy. Anne stuck the dildo into
Sarah's steaming wet cxnt.
The women were in a perverse sixty-nine, working the
huge plastic cocks in an out of each other's vaginas.
They started to move their hands faster, with wet
squelching noises issuing from the violated cxnts.
Each woman wore a grimly determined look on her face.
Sarah had the advantage of gravity. She raised her
upper body and used both hands to slam the dildo into
Anne's gushing cxnt. Anne was starting to cry as she
realized that the end was near. She worked her own
weapon into Sarah's pussy, but her strokes had less
power as the battle went on.
The blonde woman held onto the handle of the
sword-dildo with a strong double-handed grip as she
plunged the cock down and twisted it from side to
side. She could see the front of Anne's pelvis bulge
outward as she fucked the giant plastic cock into
Anne's sodden cxnt. She looked like she was churning
butter as she worked the dildo faster and faster.
Anne's eyes lost focus. The orgasm came out of the
night like rolling thunder and took her. She screamed
and wept as her body shook. Her cxnt was on fire and
spewing juice around the pistoning plastic penis. Her
hands fell away from her own weapon, and the dildo
slipped out of Sarah's cxnt.
Still Sarah fucked her with the dildo. Anne was in
continuous orgasm now, her body going from peak to
trough to peak, the pure pleasure swinging into pure
pain and back again.
Finally, Anne found voice. "Oh, GOD! NO MORE, PLEASE
GOD, NO MORE!"
Sarah stopped thrusting. She brought her tired hands
up to rest on her hips, as she sat back, her butt
still sitting on Anne's tits. The dildo popped out of
Anne's pussy, and sexual fluids that were dammed up by
the plastic cock spewed out in an arcing stream to
stain the carpet.
One more thing to do. Sarah turned around and brought
her cxnt up to Anne's mouth.
Anne looked up and saw Sarah look down at her.
Sarah's wet pussy clamped around her mouth.
Anne did what she had to do. She licked her rival to
a short, sharp orgasm. After Sarah's victory climax,
she smeared her cxnt lips over Anne's face until it
was shiny. Anne would taste the sharp and tangy
flavor of Sarah's cxnt for a while.
The naked warriors got to their feet. Anne's head was
down. Sarah took her hand and raised Anne's face up.
They looked at each other.
Anne said, "You won. This time."
Sarah said, "This time."
