Here's a teaser to something I'll be finishing soon, no real fighting but kind of sexy and will add in later, hope you like, take care, happy new year, as always probably grammatically horrible and needs proofing lol
Pictures from Polaroid Past
Karen Waterson stood slowly spinning the small Polaroid square in her trembling hands. At first glance she had no idea of exactly what she looking at, well to an extent she had no idea. Two distinguishing factors stood out to her brain as the image registered. Most of the color in the small box was skin hued, and she could clearly identify body…parts?
Dropping down to one knee she tossed the photo back into the box and reluctantly pulled out another. Biting her bottom lip and squinting her eyes afraid of what she might be there, she was relieved not to see any bright red. Karen had heard the horror stories of what realtor’s sometimes found in distressed properties. People both alive and dead, rooms built into fake walls with food and bottled water strewn across the floor or worse chains attached to the walls. She made the assumption the late Beverly Harriman nor her earlier deceased husband of fifty years Walter had a sex dungeon but she supposed odder things had happened in the world.
Grabbing a handful of the shiny squares Karen began spinning through them until she recognized a shape. Squinting even harder she stood back up to her full height and leaned towards a dangling lightbulb in the middle of the attic of her newest acquisition. In the photo she could clearly make out the side of a buttcheek and upper thigh, a rather attractive buttcheek in fact but there was more. The limb seemed to be entwined with…something.
Rotating the picture again its began to make more sense. She could see the crease of where a hip and leg met, shining with sweat and darkened with shadow from the leg above. Straining her eyes even further in the dim light she let out a surprised giggle and dropped the photo when she made out the smallest tuft of pubic hair.
“Oh my!,” she said aloud to no one. A weight lifted from her shoulders as she bent down to grab the picture. Beyond the horror finding a corpse can bring, murder houses were almost impossible to sell and the people who did want to buy them weren’t exactly the individuals with which Karen usually enjoyed doing business.
The seriousness of the situation now abated Karen grabbed the rest of the photos and tossed them inside the small shoebox heading downstairs. Placing the box on the remnants of what she could only assume was at one time a kitchen counter she continued her inspection of the property, convincing herself she was above any further snooping. Pleased to find the rest of the house in was only in some minor disrepair Karen prepared to leave but as she did curiosity led her to take the shoebox.
Returning home she placed the box in her closet, telling herself she had only grabbed it so it wouldn’t be found by another. If in fact this was Mrs. Harriman in the pictures she surely didn’t want one of the children to return home in some fit of nostalgia only to find evidence of their mother’s…well whatever it was their mother was doing in those photographs. Pouring herself a glass of white wine and sat down at her dining room table, opening her laptop as she began looking for new real estate leads.
Fighting a losing battle with temptation Karen tried to ignore the parcel of passion now beckoning from her closet. She told herself she was above such things, that those pictures were someone’s private moments and that there was nothing there in them she had never seen. Of course, all this paled in comparison to the lure of taboo knowledge and her own intrinsic desire know more about her find. Finally after a few productive emails and a few more glasses of Zinfandel the siren’s call of the pictures became too much for Karen and she went to retrieve the small cardboard box.
Sitting down on her couch she pulled off the lid and dumped the Polaroid’s out over her coffee table as she began scanning the pile, grabbing and looking over single pictures. Many of them were like the initial few she saw, blurry action shot’s of body part’s meeting or intersecting. In some she could tell the two clearly female people were standing, in some they were lying down. In a few she could make out the bottom’s of what appeared to be two set’s of blonde hair, the strands close but distinctly different in color. It was then she noticed noticed a few of the photographs had writing scribbled on their backs. Leaning over the table she grabbed one and read:
“When she figured out she was in trouble Baby, X.O.”.
Turning the photo over Karen saw a pair of fairly large breasts splayed out, but above them was an more curious part of the photo. She could clearly make out the bottom of a woman mouth, painted a dark red and agape with what seemed like…pain? All of this made sense when her eyes focused lower on the forearm drawn across this woman’s throat.
Karen finally understood what she was looking at; this was a fight. A fight like she had never seen before or even had known existed. Turning another blurry photo over she read the inscription in her head:
“She was so wet when I finally got in there I thought I’d fall in…HA HA HA!, X.O.”.
Karen turned the photo back over absently taking a sip of wine from her glass. Rotating it slowly she started to grasp the caption’s meaning as she could make out what appeared to be a forearm, delving into the split between two clasped thighs.
Karen felt her face go flush, heat pressing against the underside of her skin. Her senses seem to heighten as a feeling that had lain dormant for some time began to awaken, the giddiness and apprehension of exploring something new and taboo revisiting her from adolescence. Spurred on by an ever growing physical reaction her hands slide through the pile of slick squares until she spotted one not only inscribed with words but also with what appeared to be a date. Snagging the picture from across the table she read the sloppy cursive:
“Brooke Vs. Chelle, 12/10/93. Happy anniversary Baby. X.O.”.
Karen flipped the photo and saw; from the side, for the first time the two women’s full figures. The pair stood fully nude with several feet between one and another, each crouched in her own defensive position. Both women appeared to be in their early to mid twenties and were in very good shape. However, surprisingly Karen’s gaze wasn’t drawn to their bodies, but to their eyes. The stare the two shared seeped with an anger and hatred Karen usually saw reserved for the climax of an action film. Studying their faces and searching for any sign of familiarity she could find none with any of the photographs she had seen of Mrs. Harriman nor anyone else she had dealt with at the property.
Admiring each woman individually Karen turned her attention to the one on the left who appeared slightly younger, taller and a bit thinner than her adversary. A curly blonde side ponytail streaked with Aquamarine hung over the right side of her well made up face and down nearly onto her modest but perky breast. The girls lean legs were tensed, the muscles in her butt swollen with potential energy. Karen could tell these were the legs she had seen in the first photograph, the one’s “scissoring” the other woman’s as Karen had heard it called.
Across the small square stood a somewhat shorter and thicker woman with a more defined, hourglass like shape. Her blonde mane was much tamer, bobbed just below her cheekbones which were also well adorned with make-up. Her breasts, though larger than the taller girl’s were sagging slightly over a rounded belly. The woman was by no means fat and the extra weight on her was tight and toned, the muscles betraying her own willingness to fight.
At this moment Karen became aware of a small noise in the room and was surprised to find she been unconsciously rubbing her denim clad thigh. Thinking things over for a moment she decided her jeans were unnecessary in the privacy of her own home and stood up, quickly disrobing her lower half save a pair of high cut grey cotton underwear. Grabbing the photo of the two women facing off she studied it as she walked over to a full length mirror in the corner of the room. Turning to her side she flexed her right legs gluts and hamstrings, lifting the hanging bottom of a dark navy blouse to admire the firm limb.
At thirty-six Karen had maintained her body very well, regular jogging and rarely drinking she had aged wonderfully. Unburdened by the stressors of marriage she chose to pursue a career in real estate which allowed her to live comfortably and gave her all the necessary free time she needed to maintain her physique. Placing the photograph on a nearby counter Karen unbuttoned her blouse, shedding it and dropping it to the floor. Left now only in a black lace bra and her panties she turned back to the mirror and tilted her head, looking herself over while simultaneously comparing herself to both women.
At just under six feet tall, Karen’s long and lean body boasted a slew of well defined curves and angles that attracted men and intimidated women. Her flat stomach nearly showed four rounded abdomen muscles, topped with double CC breasts that were almost perfectly sized for her frame. Her Irish/Spanish heritage blessed her with a unique combination of olive skin and kinky full strawberry blonde hair that fell to her shoulders. Turning her back to the mirror Karen looked over her shoulder and bent slightly watching her full buttcheeks tense with a smile. She admired herself for a few moments longer before grabbing the photograph from the counter and heading back to pile on the coffee table.
Placing the Polaroid down onto the couch cushion beside her as she sat down Karen began trying to place the photographs into a sequence, however sadly many of the shots were blurry or out of focus. She would spot a breast here or a leg there, but mostly just flesh colored likes streaking across the little squares. Every so often she would find another inscribed picture always ending in the now repetitive X.O., each phrase strengthening Karen’s resolve to find the conclusion of the fight. She came upon a blurry whirling mash of hands, fists and blonde hair:
“Whooping that ass! X.O.”.
Another close up of two vagina’s pressed in tight contact:
“It felt like I was eating her pussy alive Baby X.O.”. Karen’s hand slid down her lower belly and underneath the hem of her underwear as a few more close up shots continued like that:
“Not so prissy now HA! HA! X.O.”.
“Her loose pussy getting bullied! X.O.”
“Now I know how you feel Baby HA! HA! X.O.”
Karen’s fingers began to gently stroke her mons and labia, sighing in through her nose. She imagined what it would feel like to have another woman pressed against her like that, so intimately and invasively.
Though no prude, Karen had never seen anything like what was happening here in these photographs. She wondered if she would be the one writing these statements like…hmmm…whom? Karen paused for a moment but quickly decided it was Brooke, she had met many Brooke’s in her life and she was sure they would gloat exactly like this woman. Besides, the stirring feelings her fingers were causing told her mind to simply ignore who’s handwriting it was and feed her lust.
Plunging a finger inside herself she closed her eyes and imagined herself encircled with an amalgamation of the women her mind had pieced together from the photos. Moaning out as she leaned back into her black leather sofa, she placed her left foot on the corner of her coffee table as her hand began to stretch the top of her cotton panties with her hand’s ministrations. At first she imagined herself atop the young blonde, pumping her hips down into the woman as she bit and sucked her bouncing breasts. Next it was her, pinned below as her hair was pulled and stretched at the root, her ass being smacked down into the carpet. The movie playing in her mind bounced back and forth like that as Karen’s hand’s pace picked up in her slick sex.
After a few minutes her natural curiosity reared it’s head again and Karen sat up, slowing her fingers and slipping them out of her pussy she gently caressed her outer lips and again began searching through the photographs.
Finding another inscribed one she lifted it to her her lust fogged eyes:
“The bitch sure can punch though, X.O.”. Karen turned the photo over but it was only a blurry dark colored shot of someone’s midsection in motion. Tossing it aside she scanned the pile, all the while continuing a small quick circle around her ever filling’s clit’s hood with her two middle fingers. Finding another she grabbed it and read:
“You’ve never felt bigger or harder Baby, X.O.”.
Karen quickly turned the photo over and gasped. For the first time she could make out a male well, portions of a male in the scene. The lightning was dimmed with shadow but she could clearly make out the lower torso of a man, one of his forearm’s and a hand peeking in from the bottom of the picture. Squinting to make out what the hand was holding Karen saw the background of the photo come into focus further and recognized it as the curve of two buttcheeks. A thin strip of different colored flesh poked in from under that Karen clearly could see was a cock, pressing aside the plumb fold of a labia. But even fainter and barely able to be seen under everything appeared to the hints of a cheekbone and a teary wide open eyeball. It took Karen several seconds before she understood what was happening in the photograph. Someone was watching a one time lover fuck another woman up very closely and very personally.cKaren’s circling fingers worked faster as she slipped them back inside her sex with a moan. Working through more of the photographs she tried her best to piece together the sequence of events stopping only to enjoy one of the handwritten notes she found. Another blurry action photo with two sets of swinging breasts:
“Battle of the boobs! HA HA! X.O.”.
A picture of the two women, balled up on the edge of a couch both of their hands entangled in each other’s hair.
“Fighting for you Baby.”.
Karen tossed the picture onto the pile and moaned out in erotic surprise as she saw the next photograph. It was a close of one of the women’s upper thighs and lower belly, showing off every detail of her sex. Below the spread vagina was the slightest hint of a jawline and what Karen could tell was a tongue, reaching upwards for the shiny pink split. Karen turned the photo and almost giggled at the inscription:
“The best seat in the house HA HA HA! X.O.”.
Karen turned the photo back over and inspected the woman’s pussy closely, probing her own finger’s tip against the tip of her semi-soft clitoris and measuring her body in her mind as she felt the organ stiffen in response. Her resolve to put this whole narrative together strengthened as her lust grew but somewhere in the middle the surprise was somewhat ruined when she found a photo of the younger, thinner blonde standing over her fallen opponent. Checking the back the only thing written on it was:
“And the winner is…X.O.”, a pair of full bright red lips, imprinted just below the words. Turning the picture back over she took the culmination of the fight in enthralled with the photograph.
“Brooke” pressed her right foot down into the breast of the other woman whose hands covered her face, staring down with vindication and glee and her arms raised high in the air. Her multicolored hair was matted and frayed in several directions and her body was patch marked with crimson blotches. Her glistening pussy and crotch were the brightest part of her skin, hued a near impossible red and there were even a few purple bruises starting to form on some parts. Karen studied every inch of the victorious woman as her middle finger’s tip gently coaxed her now hard clit out from its hood. Thinking back to her younger years she imagined pitting her own youthful body`against the blonde’s, wondering if she would come out on top.
Karen tossed the picture of the younger’s girl victory onto the pile and returned to the close up of what she now knew was her pussy. Staring for a moment she let the image seep deep into her brain before she closed her eyes and leaned back into the sofa and tossed the photo aside. As she dreamt of struggling with the organ her finger slowly sped up along as did a low hum from her throat as she envisioned breaking the girls will and riding out her struggles. Karen’s left hand slide along the leather of the couch and clutched a blanket beside her tightly as she imagined it was long, thick rainbow colored strands of the blonde. Her fingers curling into a talon as she envisioned ripping the hair from her adversary’s head, the dull hum in her throat growing and forming a moan.
“Oooooohmm!,”.
An image of Karen spinning the young girl around like rag doll in some ethereal room flashed across her minds eye making her pussy spasm against her fingers.
“Ahhhhhhhooooommff!”.
One close up of two’s pussylips rolling and chewing against each other drew another from her as she felt the velvety walls of her insides dampen and contract.
“AOOOOOOMMMMMMMM!!!”
A flashing image of the cocky blonde’s panicked eyes looking up as Karen slammed her breasts over her face made her bit her lower lip as she felt her insides tighten, the tendons in her thighs starting to bulge out as she pressed her pelvis up against her now plunging fingers. Raising her right leg up she pressed her foot against the corner of her coffee table, her well pedicured toes clutching the wood hard as her leg trembled. Her left hand slid back across her body, working under the lace of her bra to massage her right breast as she tweaked her hardening nipple.
“Huhhhh… uh..huhhh…uhh…OOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMHUUHHMMMM!!!!”
Karen’s body seized up in ecstasy as her hips worked her fingers in and out of her pussy. Her eyes fluttered below their lids, mind asunder with images of her multiple fantasies as she rolled listlessly bad and forth unable to control her body’s movements while it shook. Every nerve in her body exploded with the idea of conquering the imaginary girl as Karen felt her right hand become much wetter. She screamed out in what someone not seeing her may have thought was murder, rolling into the leather of the couch’s back cushion. Sliding her left hand from her breast she slid her hand along the leather, clutching it as she felt the spastic seizure like tremors of her climax subside, her breathing slowing to a normal pace before she drifted into a restful slumber.
Karen awoke some hours later and gathered herself, well she gathered herself three more times to be exact before finally cleaning the photographs up and back into their box. Placing them back in the closet she went about the rest of her weekend mostly ignoring them but, the idea was already forming and she knew she would be soon be doing more digging into the curious box from Mrs. Harriman’s house.
Arriving home later from some errands Karen sat down and opened up her laptop, a quick check through her paperwork found exactly for whom she was looking.
Timothy and Brooke Schultz, the couple had owned the house from 1989 to 1995. A few more searched through real estate listings as Karen found the two had apparently stayed together and moved only several miles from the property.
It didn’t take long for Karen to decide to make the phone call, it took another glass of wine but soon she was sitting listening to the crackling ring of the connection on her cell phone. After several rings an older woman’s voice came over the line:
“Hello?”
Karen cleared her throat, and suppressed a shudder finding it hard to speak:
“Yes…umm…hi…Mrs…Schultz?”
“Yessss?”
“Yes…uhh…hi Mrs. Schultz…my name is…”, Karen continued.
“Let me stop you there honey. I’m not interested in buying anything, please take me off your list, whatever it is I’m fine. Thank you.”, the voice interrupted.
“Ummm, no…Mrs. Schultz….I’m not a telemarketer…I’m a realtor…”, Karen quickly replied.
“Oh well…I don’t want to sell my house….I don’t need a condo…”, the voice said back. “No…Mrs. Schutlz…I was selling a house…your house…while your old house…”; there was silence so Karen continued:
“And I found something?”. Karen hoped the way she said the last statement might help jog the woman’s memory but there wasn’t only more silence from the other end of the call.
“Annnndddddd?!”, the woman seemed annoyed now to Karen which almost made her hang up but she had come this far and actually thought it was only right that the original owner have this part of their life back. But, now after hearing Brooke’s voice and having all of her impressions of the her confirmed that concern was dampened.
“Well….it’s a….shoebox…with a lot of Polaroid…pictures in…it?”, Karen answered. There was silence for a few seconds before the voice replied:
“I’ll…have to call you back.”, and hung up.
