This is a completed Story I hope to make into a narrated Illustrated and partly animated sexy Story.
It ends in a Wild Sexfight I'll continue later on in part two of the Sexfight area for Stories here, IF there is any interest
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Claws Out, Hearts On Fire
-------------------------------------------
An After Hours Cat fight between two womenTwo very sexual female co workers get into a classic and private catfight at the end of a week of personal insults at meetings, snipping in the hall ways and chest to chest noose to nose angry spats. Their mini skirted nose to nose arguments titilate both the young Males in the office and the women as well, with whispers of a catfight catfight occuring between the two young women.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 1 Mind Your Boundaries Bitch
Office Politics a la CAT
The tension between Susan and Jacky starts to build in the office, as they engage in passive-aggressive behavior, like sabotaging each other's work and making snide comments during meetings. Their mini-skirted nose-to-nose arguments become a source of entertainment for the male employees, as well as the women.
A spike in their mutual distrust, happens during one of Susan's Board room presentations.
Initial ConfrontationThe firm's office is a high-ceilinged, open-plan space filled with rows of cubicles, glass-walled meeting rooms, and long corridors lined with gray carpet. The air is thick with the hum of computers and hushed voices, punctuated by the occasional bursts of laughter or heated argument. In the middle of it all, two women stand at opposite ends of a narrow corridor, their gazes locked and their bodies tense with simmering tension.
The office was a beehive of activity, the hum of conversations and the click-clack of keyboards filling the air in a steady, soothing rhythm. At the heart of this bustling hive were Susan Bookings and Jacky Smithers, both queens of their domains, each with her own court of admirers and subjects.
Susan, the senior consultant, was a force to be reckoned with. Her long, wavy brown hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing a face that could turn heads even in the most crowded rooms.
She favored tight white blouses that hugged her generous 38Cs, paired with short black mini skirts that showcased her toned legs. Her dark red lips and smokey makeup gave her a sultry, sophisticated air, and she moved through the office with an air of confidence that commanded respect.
Across the corridor, Jacky Smithers was a stark contrast in style, but no less striking. A very sexy 25 year old bi sexual woman, very pretty face, long blonde hair down to her bum. Large 38 C+ breasts with large nipples. Dressed in a tight cream Blouse, showing off her cleavage and the tops of her breasts. A short white mini skirt. Long French nails Strap-on beige high heels, sheer nude pantyhose, wearing no panty. about 5 feet 3 inches tall and 120 pounds. light red lips and smokey makeup with long eye lashes and dark mascarra. Computer Specialist Consultant with the firm for 1 year, in a lesbian relationship with a sexy little red haired 32 year old female accountant at work.
Jacky had a way of making technology bend to her will, and her clients loved her for it. But it was her personal style that made her stand out in the office. Today, she was wearing again, one of her signature tight cream blouses that left little to the imagination, paired with her staple short white mini skirt that showed off her long, toned legs. Her blonde hair always cascaded down her back, and her light red lips and smokey makeup gave her an air of mystery.
Susan and Jacky had been at odds since Jacky joined the firm. Their feud had started small, with snide comments and passive-aggressive behavior.
Susan would "accidentally" send Jacky's report to the printers with the pages in reverse order. Jacky would "forget" to mention a crucial software update that would have made Susan's presentation run smoothly.
Today, however, you could smell the tension in the air. Susan was preparing for a boardroom presentation, her hands shaking slightly as she adjusted her blouse, ensuring it was tucked neatly into her skirt. Jacky was supposed to be setting up the projector for her, but she seemed to be taking her sweet time.
Susan glanced at her watch, then down the corridor towards the boardroom. The board members would be arriving soon.
Susan's pulse quickened as she stepped out of her cubicle, her heels clicking against the gray carpeting as she headed towards the boardroom. She could see Jacky through the glass walls, leaning against the conference table, her long blonde hair cascading over one shoulder as she checked her phone, seemingly oblivious to the ticking clock.
Susan's hand tightened on her iPad as she approached the boardroom. She paused at the door, taking a deep breath before entering. "Jacky, I'm surprised you're not set up yet," she said, her voice steady despite the butterflies in her stomach.
"The board members will be here any minute."
Jacky looked up from her phone, her blue eyes meeting Susan's gaze. She smiled slowly, a hint of malice in her expression. "Oh, I'm sure they'll be impressed by your... presentation," she said, her eyes lingering on Susan's blouse. "I hope you've practiced your notes."
Susan bristled at the innuendo. "I don't need to practice. I know my job."
Jacky shrugged, pushing herself off the table. "If you say so.
But from what I've seen, you seem more interested in showing off your assets than your analytical skills." Jacky smirked as she finally made her way towards the projector, her hips swaying in a way that made the men in the office take notice.
Susan clenched her jaw, feeling her face grow warm. She was used to the attention her appearance drew, but Jacky's comments always seemed to hit a nerve. "You know, for someone who claims to be about empowerment and equality, you sure know how to objectify a woman."
Jacky chuckled as she plugged in the projector.
"Oh, sweetheart, I'm the one being objectified here. You’re the one who insists on parading around like a runway model instead of a consultant. I'm just calling it like I see it."
Susan could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. She knew her outfits were attention-grabbing, but she also knew her worth. "I dress for myself, Jacky. It's not my fault if others can't handle it."
Jacky gave a mocking smile. "Is that what they're calling it these days? 'Dressing for yourself'?
Really, Susan? Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you're dressing to disrupt," Jacky retorted, her eyes flashing. She finished setting up the projector, her hands moving with practiced ease as she connected the cables.
Susan crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing. "How would you know what I'm trying to achieve with my clothing, Jacky? You're too busy looking at my boobs to notice anything else."
Jacky shrugged, a saucy smile playing at the corners of her lips. "And what's wrong with that? You've got a great pair, why not flaunt them?
It's not like you're the only one in the office with a killer set of assets," Jacky said, her tone deceptively casual. She adjusted her own blouse, making sure her cleavage was even more prominently on display. "But I do wonder, do you ever get tired of playing the part of the sexy consultant? Doesn't it get exhausting, always having to live up to that image?"
Susan's brows furrowed, her grip on her iPad tightening. "I'm not playing a part, Jacky. This is who I am.
And unlike you, I don't need to put on a show to get attention."
Jacky raised an eyebrow, her smirk growing wider. "A show? Darling, all I'm doing is being myself. Maybe if you spent less time judging and more time actually getting to know me, you'd see that."
Susan's eyes flashed with frustration. "I don't need to get to know you, Jacky. I know your type. You're all about the drama, about stirring the pot.
You thrive on the chaos you create." Susan's voice was low, but there was a sharp edge to it that cut through the air like a knife.
Jacky tilted her head, a playful smile still on her lips. "And you're all about the control, Susan. You think you can dictate everything, from how people should dress to how they should behave. But you can't control me. I do what I want, when I want."
Susan's nostrils flared slightly, her eyes never leaving Jacky's. "And that's where we differ, Jacky. I respect boundaries. I respect the rules.
=========================================================
Chapter 2 The Time and Place Bitch
The firm's office hallway, bathed in the soft, ambient glow of fluorescent lights, is a narrow, enclosed space that serves as both a thoroughfare and an unofficial arena for power plays and office politics. The cool, sterile atmosphere is punctuated by the hushed whispers of employees, their eyes wide and avid, as they watch the dance of Susan Bookings and Jacky Smithers. The air is thick with anticipation and the electric energy of two fierce women locked in a battle for dominance.
----------------------------------------------------------------
That afternoon, during a team meeting, Jacky subtly
corrected Susan’s presentation, pointing out a minor statistical error. The correction was accurate, yet the timing and manner were deliberate, a public undermining that stung more than any private insult. Susan, outwardly calm, felt a surge of icy rage. The slight was insignificant, almost
invisible to the other team members, but to Susan, it was a direct challenge, a blatant disregard for her authority. She brushed it off with a dismissive wave of her hand, a carefully controlled response that masked the simmering fury within.
Later, in the ladies' restroom, Susan encountered Jacky. The silence between them was thick with unspoken animosity, a volatile mixture of simmering rage and restrained desire. Susan leaned against the sink, her reflection staring back at her, a composed mask concealing the turmoil within. Jacky, her face pale and strained, avoided eye contact, her hands fiddling nervously with her handbag.
"You know," Susan began, her voice low and dangerous, "that little correction during the meeting? It was…audacious, wouldn't you say?" The venom in her voice was barely disguised, a subtle threat wrapped in a veneer of polite inquiry.
Jacky flinched, but didn't answer. The silence stretched, taut and heavy with unspoken words.
"Don't underestimate me, Jacky," Susan continued, her voice dangerously close to a whisper. "I'm not as easily intimidated as you think." Her words hung in the air, a calculated
provocation designed to test Jacky's resolve.
Jacky finally looked up, her eyes blazing with a mixture of anger and defiance. "And you, Susan," she retorted, her voice trembling slightly, "You’re not as clever as you believe." The retort, though delivered with a tremor, held a surprising strength, a defiance that both surprised and infuriated Susan.
She stepped closer, her high heels clicking on the cold tile floor, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. The air was thick with tension, the scent of their perfumes mingling in a heady, intoxicating mix.
"You think this is a game, don't you?" Susan hissed, her voice a low growl. "You think you can walk in here and just... take over."
Jacky's eyes flashed, her cheeks flushed with a mix of anger and arousal. "And you think you can just... bully me into submission?" she shot back, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands.
Both girls stepped closer together in front of the bathroom mirror, dropping whatever they had in their hands onto the lady's room counter.
They were now close enough to smell the other's breath, feel breast nipples pressing together. Their nyloned knees trembling and rubbing together, with a clicking background noise provided by their heels as they began to nervously tap around the other girl, looking like they were ready to fight at any moment. Susan’s big brown eyes locked onto Jacky's blue ones. Both women knew this wasn't about business any more. This was personal. This was something else, something raw and primal.
Susan reached out and grabbed Jacky by the shoulders, her grip surprisingly firm and steady despite the anger and desire coursing through her veins. Jacky gasped, her eyes widening as she felt Susan's strong hands on her. She could feel the heat radiating from Susan's body, could see the way her chest was heaving with each ragged breath.
"You want to fuck with me, Jacky?" Susan growled, her voice low and dangerous.
"You want to fuck with me, Jacky? Fine. Let's see how you handle this." With that, she pulled Jacky closer, their bodies pressing against each other, their breasts crushing together through the thin fabric of their blouses. Jacky could feel the hard points of Susan's nipples against her own, and despite herself, she let out a soft moan.
Susan's hands moved from Jacky's shoulders to her waist, then down to her ass, pulling her even closer. Jacky could feel the heat of Susan's pussy through the thin fabric of her skirt, and she knew she was wet. Fuck, she was so fucking wet.
Jacky could feel it now, the dampness seeping through her pantyhose, her pussy throbbing with each heartbeat. She had never felt so turned on in her life, never been so close to another woman, never wanted another woman so badly.
Susan's hands slipped down to Jacky's ass, her fingers digging into the soft flesh as she ground her hips against Jacky's. Their bodies were slick with sweat, their breaths coming in ragged gasps. Jacky could feel the roughness of Susan's nails through her pantyhose, and it sent shivers down her spine.
She let out a soft whimper, her body pressing back against Susan's, her own hands reaching up to tangle in Susan's hair. She pulled hard, tipping Susan's head back and exposing her neck. She leaned in, her lips brushing against Susan's pulse point, her tongue flicking out to taste the sweat-slicked skin.
Susan groaned, her hips bucking against Jacky's. "Fuck, Jacky," she whispered, her voice ragged with desire. "You're playing with fire."
Jacky grinned against Susan's neck, her teeth scraping gently.
"I like fire, Susan. I like the burn."
Her hands moved from Susan's hair to her chest, her palms cupping Susan's breasts through her blouse. She could feel the hard nipples pressing against her hands, and she squeezed, eliciting a gasp from Susan.
"You like that, don't you?" Jacky whispered, her voice laced with a mix of malice and arousal. "You like the way I touch you."
Susan's breath hitched, her hips moving in time with Jacky's hands. "Fuck yes, I do," she admitted, her voice thick with desire.
"But you know I'm a married woman not some bi sexual slut like you" snarled Susan licking Jacky's nose then shoving her against the bathroom wall behind her. "We need to settle this first, tooth and nail in the old penthouse board room. A nice long uninterrupted girl girl catfight this Friday afternoon. After four, just like after school fight time. Then you can try and fuck me for real bitch, but I need to teach you a lesson first. "
"Any rules Sue?" as Jacky snapped her claws in front of Susan's face. "be sure to bring a change of clothes to put on, after I strip your cxnt ass buck bloody naked."
Susan snarled. She pushed Jacky hard again against the cold tile wall, the impact making her breath hitch. She could feel Jacky's heart racing, her body trembling with a mix of fear and desire.
"Fuck you, Susan!" Jacky spat, her eyes blazing with defiance. "You think you can just bully me into submission? You think you can just fuck with me and get away with it?"
Susan smirked, her hands moving to Jacky's blouse, her fingers deftly unbuttoning it. "I don't think, baby.
I act," Susan growled, her voice low and threatening. She ripped Jacky's blouse open, the buttons flying everywhere, and she heard Jacky's sharp intake of breath. She leaned in, her lips brushing against Jacky's ear. "And I'm about to act on every fucking impulse I have right now."
Jacky shuddered, her breath coming out in ragged gasps. "You think you can take me, Susan?" she challenged, her voice laced with both fear and excitement. "You think you can fuck me into submission?"
Susan chuckled darkly, her hands moving to Jacky's skirt.
Jacky's girl friend Brenda the accountant, then entered the washroom. Jacky waved at her while bumping past Susan. "I'll be late for our dinner date this Friday evening" as she glared back at Susan. "I need to scratch out a solution to an issue that has been bothering me lately sweety" she said as she walked past Susan and out of the restroom leaving Susan suddenly aroused and angry, her nipples hardening even more under the loose blouse.
The rest of the week dragged on agonizingly slow for both Susan and Jacky. Each day they exchanged steely glances, their eyes locked in a battle of wills. The tension between them was a thick fog that clung to every interaction, every whispered word.
Finally, Friday afternoon arrived. Susan stood in front of the full-length mirror in her office, adjusting her blouse.
It was a tight, white number that showed off her generous cleavage, and she knew it looked good on her. She had chosen a black mini skirt that hugged her curves just right, completing the look. She knew she looked good, knew that Jacky wouldn't be able to resist her.
She could feel the heat building inside her, a raw, primal desire that had been growing all week. She was tired of the games, tired of the tension. She wanted this, needed this release.
As the clock ticked towards four, she made her way towards the old penthouse boardroom.
The air was thick with anticipation, the scent of her own perfume a heady mix of sweet and musky. She could hear the distant hum of the office, but up here, it was quiet, just the way she liked it.
She pushed open the door to the boardroom, her heels clicking against the polished floor. The room was bathed in a soft, diffused light, the blinds drawn to block out the late afternoon sun. The scent of old wood and leather filled her nostrils, and she could feel the electricity in the air, a charged atmosphere that seemed to hum with unspoken promises.
She was a few minutes early, but she knew Jacky would be here soon. She could sense it, a primal instinct that was as much a part of her as her own heartbeat.
She stepped further into the room, her eyes scanning the space. The boardroom was large, dominated by a long, polished table that seemed to stretch on forever. She could imagine the countless meetings that had taken place here, the deals made and broken, the careers forged and shattered. But today, this room would serve a different purpose.
She made her way to the head of the table, her heels clicking against the floor with each step.
The deserted penthouse office hummed with the low thrum of the city lights far below. Susan, her silk blouse clinging to her back, revealing the swell of her 38C breasts and the dark points of her nipples, stood before the panoramic window. The cityscape was a blurred tapestry of twinkling lights. Her short black mini skirt, hiked slightly above her hips as she leaned against the window, offered glimpses of her bare, smooth legs and the absence of underwear beneath the sheer white pantyhose. The rhythmic tap-tap-tap of her black high heels on the polished marble floor punctuated the silence, the skirt riding higher with each step, momentarily exposing the top of her vagina.
The cool air against her bare skin sent a shiver down her spine, a thrill of anticipation. She was ready. She could feel it, a primal urge that pulsed through her veins like a wild drumbeat.
As she turned to face the room, she caught her reflection in the floor-to-ceiling windows. Her black skirt was hitched up, the hem now riding high on her hips, leaving her ass almost fully exposed. The sight of herself, a mix of power and vulnerability, sent a jolt of excitement through her. She could see the dampness of her pantyhose, the dark shadow of her pussy clearly visible through the sheer fabric. She had never felt so exposed, so alive.
===========================================================================================
Chapter 3 The Executive Catfight Arena
The firm's penthouse office is a lavish, open-plan space with floor-to-ceiling windows offering breathtaking views of the cityscape below. The sleek, modern decor is accentuated by the soft glow of recessed lights, creating an atmosphere of sophistication and luxury. A cluster of plush, leather armchairs and couches form an inviting seating area, while the spacious workstations are equipped with state-of-the-art technology. The office is punctuated by glossy black glass and mirrored surfaces, reflecting the dynamic energy of the bustling city beyond.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The door hissed open, the sound jarring in the otherwise silent space. Jacky entered, a sleek silhouette against the dim hallway, her usual sharp business attire – a tight cream
blouse, showcasing ample cleavage and the tops of her 38C+ breasts, and a short white mini skirt – softened by the late hour. The skirt, clinging to her 120-pound frame, rode
slightly higher on her hips with each movement, offering fleeting glimpses of her bare thighs and the absence of
underwear. Her long blonde hair, cascading down to her bum, swayed with the movement, contrasting with her beige high heels and sheer nude pantyhose. A weariness in her posture, a slump to her shoulders that was unfamiliar, yet
behind the fatigue, Susan sensed a simmering energy, a
coiled readiness for conflict. "You’re still here," Jacky said, her voice a low murmur, laced with a subtle note of surprise, maybe even…hesitation? It was a fleeting moment, gone before Susan could truly analyze it. "And you are too,"
Susan replied, her tone carefully neutral, masking the thrill of anticipation that coursed through her. The game, it
seemed, was far from over. Susan, a striking 36-year-old, stood poised and elegant in her tight white blouse, her 38C breasts barely contained within its confines, the tops visible through the thin fabric. Her short black mini skirt, much like Jacky's, was unforgiving, clinging to her 115-pound frame and riding up with every move, revealing the lack of panties beneath and offering tantalizing glimpses of her
womanhood. Her long brown hair flowed down her back, complementing her dark red lipstick, dark makeup, and long eyelashes. Her long red nails and black strap-on high heels completed the look. Jacky moved towards the mini-bar, her movements fluid and deliberate, the white mini skirt rising and falling with each step, revealing more and more of her legs and the absence of underwear. She poured herself a generous measure of scotch, the ice clinking softly in the glass. Susan watched her, her gaze unwavering, studying the subtle nuances of Jacky’s movements, the slight tremor in her hand as she raised the glass to her lips. It was a
vulnerability, a crack in the carefully constructed facade of competence she usually presented. “To… unresolved issues,”Jacky said, her voice barely a whisper above the hum of the city. Susan raised an eyebrow. "Indeed," she replied, her voice smooth as polished steel. The air crackled with
unspoken accusations, with weeks of simmering resentment and carefully concealed hatred. The slight movements of both women, the constant shifting of weight, ensured their skirts continued their dance of near-exposure. The
conversation began innocently enough, an exchange of polite pleasantries, a superficial veneer of professional
camaraderie. But the truce was short-lived. The casual
inquiries about the day’s events quickly morphed into barbed comments, subtle jabs that landed like carefully aimed punches. The carefully crafted politeness crumbled, replaced by a raw, bitter exchange of insults. The previously neutral space began to charge with a volatile energy.
Jacky’s voice rose, sharp and accusatory. She spoke of Susan's manipulative tactics, her ruthless ambition, her willingness to sacrifice others to climb the corporate ladder.
The words stung, but Susan remained outwardly calm, her expression a mask of controlled fury. She met Jacky's
accusations with a counterattack of her own, pointing out Jacky’s insecurities, her desperate attempts to undermine her success, her childish acts of sabotage.
The accusations escalated, each volley more potent than the last. The words transformed into a torrent of anger, a verbal assault that left neither woman unscathed. The luxurious old penthouse, with its modern furniture and stunning views, became the stage for a battle of wills, a gladiatorial contest fought with words and simmering contempt.
The air grew thick with tension, each woman's breath coming faster, their voices rising in pitch and decibel.
Jacky slammed her glass down, the scotch sloshing over the rim. "You're nothing but a manipulative cxnt, Susan! You think you can just climb over my back to get what you want?"
Susan laughed, a harsh sound that echoed through the room. "Manipulative? You're one to talk, you little bitch.
You've been fucking around with Brenda in the goddamn supply closet. You think I don't know about that?" Susan shot back, her eyes blazing with a mix of anger and arousal. The air between them crackled with tension, their breaths coming in ragged gasps.
Jacky's eyes flashed with defiance. "Yeah, so what if I have? You're the one who's fucking married, Susan. You're the one who's supposed to be setting an example."
Susan's hands clenched into fists, her nails biting into her palms. "Fuck you, Jacky.
You think you're better than me because you're young and fuck whoever you want?" Susan's voice was a low growl, her body trembling with barely contained rage and arousal. "Well, let me tell you something, sweetheart, I've been there, done that. I've fucked my way to the top, and I'm not afraid to do it again."
Jacky smirked, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of anger and lust. "Big words, Susan. But talk is cheap.
Jacky flexed her claws at Susan as she tapped slowly towards her. "You know, Susan, I've been waiting for this moment. You think you can get away with treating me like shit, but you're wrong. I'm not afraid of you, and I'm not afraid to fight back."
Susan's chest heaved with anticipation and anger. "You think you can handle me, baby? You don't know what you're getting yourself into." She took a step closer, her hips swaying slightly. She could feel the heat between them, like a thick, tangible force.
Jacky met Susan's advance with her own, her eyes locked onto Susan's.
She could feel the heat radiating off Susan's body, see the flare of desire in her dark eyes. "Fuck yes, I can handle you," she growled, her voice thick with lust. "Let's see if you can walk the walk, Susan. Not just talk the talk."
The escalating verbal sparring finally culminated in a physical shove. Jacky lunged, her fingers scratching at Susan’s arm, leaving angry red marks. Susan retaliated with a swift slap across Jacky's face, the sound echoing through the silent penthouse. It was the breaking point.
The fight was brutal, a primal release of pent-up frustration and rage. Their entwined bodies moved with a frantic energy, a furious lambada morphing into a savage, improvised dance of destruction. They bounced off walls, sending bookcases and vases crashing to the floor.
Their skirts rode high, revealing the sheer pantyhose clinging to their moistened flesh. Each grunt and pant echoed through the penthouse, the sound of their bodies slamming into each other, the scent of their arousal filling the air.
Buttons flew from their blouses, revealing bare breasts that rubbed together, nipples hardening, pressing into soft flesh. They bit faces, lips, and shoulders, tearing at each other's long blonde and brown hair. Angry red and French-tipped nails shredded fabric as they scratched, bit, and slapped, shaking each other violently. Legs wrapped around waists, nylon-clad thighs hissing together, camel toes pressing against each other in a frantic, rhythmic friction. The tap-tap-tap of their high heels punctuated the chaotic scene as their miniskirts rode up, exposing nylon covered ripe and engorged camel toes rubbing together from the intense female catfight.
Their entwined dance intensified. They bit and spat on faces, lips, shoulders – long blonde and brown hair pulled and ripped out in clumps, adding to the chaos of litter on the floor. Each slap was a resounding echo of their fury; each hair pull a desperate attempt to assert dominance. They tried to trip each other, legs snaking around waists and legs, but their furious energy propelled them onwards, like a conjoined spinning sexy toy top, a brutal, seductive waltz of aggression. The fight was a breathtaking display of raw emotion, a tangled mess of limbs and snapping sounds, the air thick with the scent of sweat, silk, and day old perfume. Their struggle was no longer merely a fight; it was a primal, visceral expression of their simmering hatred, a dark, desperate dance that blended violence and a disturbing undercurrent of desire. The elegant penthouse became a testament not only to the accumulation of wealth but to the untamed, ferocious passion that now growled and rotated beneath their polished exteriors.
Finally, some two hundred and thirty pounds of conjoined woman hood slammed onto the center of the board room's long elegant table. The two she cats now locked up into an even tighter rotating catball of anger and lust rotating back and forth alond the entire length of the long elegant table.
Their high pitched yelping sounds occasionally converting into moans of pleasure as they rolled against one another, each being aroused by the power and the friction.
Their moist pantyhose covered pussies rubbing against each other, the air filled with their pungent arousal, the scent mingling with the destruction they had wrought upon the room.
Susan, panting heavily, could feel the intense, searing heat between her legs as Jacky’s slim, nylon-clad thighs rubbed against hers. Their bodies, covered in a sheen of sweat and scattered with torn fabrics and pulled hair, slid against each other with a friction that was both painful and exhilarating. The feeling of Jacky’s hard nipples grinding against her own through the remnants of their blouses sent shockwaves of pleasure through Susan’s body. She could feel her own nipples growing harder and more sensitive with each intense collision.
Their skirts had ridden up high, parted to reveal the sheer pantyhose that covered their now very wet pussies.
Their nylon covered camel toes began to clinch and rub together as waring clits began to fence one another. All while rolling to the very edge of the table then off on to the plush carpeted floor with a deep base like thud, followed but the frantic sound of high heels slapping together and the sounds of torn rags and nylons rustling and two locked cat ballers tumbling back and forth across the carpet in an angry embrace of lust and hate. Locked together as they resumed their catball roll on the soft deep carpet
The struggle escalated, the two women a furious knot of limbs on the expensive carpet. The initial shock of the physical altercation had long subsided, replaced by a desperate, primal need to dominate, to subdue, even sexually her adversary. Susan felt the cold sting of Jacky's nails on her back as she tried to gain the upper hand, and she returned the favor with a ferocity that mirrored her opponent's. They clawed and scratched, their bodies slick with sweat and tinged with blood, the elegance of their surroundings a stark contrast to the primal battle being waged on their expensive carpet.
Their faces, contorted with rage and exertion, were a testament to the raw fury that consumed them. Their eyes, burning with hatred and a strange, unexpected undercurrent of something else, locked in a silent, desperate battle of wills. The fight was no longer just about proving a point; it was a struggle for survival, a primal dance of dominance and submission.
Faces streaked with tears and long dark streaks of mascara and lip stick smeared from one face to the other, their growling gobs of spit accumulating in a wet sheen on the other's face and eyes. Constant angry spitting and finally they locked jaws probably to stop the spitting while also knotting their tongues together into a catball catfight of their own. All the while continuing their catfighting ball of rolling entwined hate back and forth, one woman on top then the other, scratching slapping ripping grinding and sucking and biting at every part of the other woman's now half naked body. With each tumble they took across the carpeted floor their desire grew, their anger morphed into lust. Their desperate need for domination became intertwined with their desperate need to be dominated. The air around them was thick with the scent of their arousal, their bodies slick with sweat and the remnants of their torn clothing.
Suddenly, Susan found herself on top, her long brown hair a wild tangle around her face. She spit in Jacky's face, the saliva mixing with the tears and mascara that already coated Jacky's skin. "You fucking cxnt," she growled, her voice thick with anger and desire.
She spat on Jacky's face, and Jacky responded in kind, their spit mixing with the tears and sweat that coated their faces. Their bodies were slick with perspiration, their breaths coming in ragged gasps.
Susan ground her hips against Jacky's, feeling the heat of her pussy through the thin barrier of their tattered hose. She could feel Jacky's clit, hard and swollen, pressing against her own. She let out a low moan, a mix of pleasure and pain, and she knew Jacky felt it too.
[[chapter 3 ending and chapters 4,5,6 will be in the sexfight story section of freecatfights, later this week, IF interested]]
