Donna is thinking of the quickest way out of my mounted pin on her, but I maintain my fingerlock on her to keep her under me.
I'm flatttered by how aroused Mrs Harris is from watching me kneel on Donna. I remember how ashamed I expected to be after Donna and I had a school entrance catfight in front of basically the entire senior class, and my top got torn off with me wearing no bra .... and yet the shame never arrived.
I wondered on the nights after that catfight ..... and find myself wondering now... how many senior is our high school class were masturbating to the sight of my 38c breasts being exposed by Donna.
I pictured all the senior girls fingering themselves in envy of how much bigger my breasts were than theirs.
Then I pictured all the senior boys jacking themselves off, regretting that they never asked me out all 4 years of high school. Never danced with me at a high school dance. Never cornered me at a Rhode Island house party. Never drove me home and pulled over in front of my house. Never came over my house when my mom was at work.
So much kissing and touching they could have had with me.
So much fucking they could have had. I doubt I would have ever initiated. But I doubt I would have said no to a hard fuck. Hell, even a soft one.
I lock eyes with Mrs Harris. I think about what got me off when she was fighting Miss Fredrickson twenty minutes ago. I decide it was the face-hitting.
I unlock my right hand from Donna's left, and slap Donna hard in the face. The strike echoes thru the forest.
> I hate her, I silently mouth to Mrs Harris. I hate you, too, bitch, I mouth to Mrs Harris.
> Slap her tits, Donna, says Mrs Harris (out loud) to my prone opponent. Donna does as she says.
> [I slap Doona face again, harder, and backhand her as well.] I mouth to Mrs Harris, I'm badder than her -- and badder than YOU.
> [Mrs Harris is already pre-cumming from the sounds of Donna and me slapping. This is what she unbuckled her pants for. And it's working.] Fight back, Doona, dammit. Why can't you beat this bitch?
> [I'm talking out loud now to Mrs Harris, not mouthing silently to her anymore:] Why can't you stop me from stealing your husband, cxnt?!?!?!?
> YOU HAVEN'T STOLEN HIM YET, SLUT!!!!
> [Mrs Harris and I cum in unison. Donna bucks me off of her .... finally .... but I regain my composure and lock her into a mutual hairpull catball. We roll along the forest floor, our legs snaking around each other, neither able to get complete control. I'm exhausted from an afternoon of cumming, kissing, and .... now..... catfighting. But Doona is just as exhausted from 45 minutes of me mounting her. We all notice is getting dark. I whisper in Donna's ear:] Take the quuen bitch Mrs Harris home. And tell her to pack her fucking bags. I'm moving in there this weekend.
> [Mrs Harris hears me:] YOU ... Anne .... you pretentious bitch ..... take Miss Fredrickson HOME. And stay away from .... ME .... AND my HUSBAND ...... forever ..... or I swear to God, Anne, I'll....
> You'll do WHAT, loser??
> I'll make you wish you were never born, Anne.
> I look forwatkrd to it, slut.
[Donna and I release our holds on each other. We get up. I help Miss Fredrickson to my car. Donna helps Mrs Harris's to hers.]
I can't wait to steal that bitch's husband.
To be continued.....