[sinclairfan]

My name is Lynn.  I'm a Physical Therapist in Florida.  I pinch myself everyday that I'm in Florida--best decision of my life....but also pinch myself everday that I'm 31 years old.  The pandemic didn't exactly rob me of 4 years of my life--Floridians did their best to just ignore the pandemic--but it did make me lose track of time in my prime dating years.  Already, at 31, whole cohorts of males consider me "over the hill" as dating material, even tho when I look in the mirror, I see a 9+ face and hair, and a toned, near-perfdct figure.  I don't think I've ever looked better than I do now.

I'm a mix of a bunch of races.  Korean dad and surname.  A bit of Cambodian and Japanese.  And Caucasian.  Long story--don't ask.  My parents were raised in academia in St Louis. 

And don't ask about something else.  I love girlfighting ..... or, the adrenaline rush of it.  My Korean heritage brought me to tae kwon do.  But what I REALLY like is getting hit in a no-rules fight.  I got started in middle school in the city in the early 2000s, and have never stopped.

School.
Then bars.
The gyms.
And, now.... since Jamie .... at work.

Anywhere women come together to fight.

Ah, Jamie.  The kind of white girl who underestimates women like me.  By, to start with, by overlooking the possibility that I might be part white.  And not just genetically.

My white grandmother taught me about all the American holidays.  Fourth of July ... Halloween (including the Trick or Treating) ..... Thanksgiving (including the Detroit Lions and Dallas Cowboys football) ..... Christmas (with white Santa) ..... Easter (with egg coloring).

Jamie, hun..... I did ALL OF THOSE.... I'm every bit as Americanized as you.  Even though when you see my face, you automatically assume that I eat egg fried rice and celebrate Chinese New Year, even though I don't know when that is.

Ok, Lynn.... deep breath.  Inhale .... exhale.

I apologize.  It's just .... I don't like girls like Jamie.  Tall and thin ... from too much running.

Pretty faces.

Thick, straight, raven-dark hair.  ASIAN .... hair, almost.

Rich parents to fall back on.

Born and raised in Florida.

No intent of leaving.

Who think they know how to fight, just because they got into after-homecoming-dance scraps in high school.

Jamie:  I would sssoooo kick your ass in a fight.

But ..... I'm getting ahead of myself.

To be continued....

[sinclairfan]

Once I finished my PT degree and started working as a therapist, I realized I had entered the field.  A PT office has all the alluring things a gym has--the mats, the free weights, the inflated balls of different sizes, the Nautilus machines, the pulleys and tension bands, the heating pads and ice packs--and people milling around using them.

With this important difference:

<> In a regular gym, the brawny men approach the attractive girls.
<> In a PT facility, the physical therapist approaches and touches the patient.

In other words, it combined the two things I like the most:
1> all the trappings of the gym
2> all the control in the hands of the PT....me.

Are many of the patients old Medicare patients who can barely hear a word I'm saying?  Sure.  But even with those patients, many of them were once successful executives in life.  They know an attractive, available girl when they see one, and flirt with me, slip me gifts, etc.  All in all, it's worth it. 

The first 2 years of my career were what I expected.

Until we hired Jamie.

Florida has been everything I hoped for .... and more .... since I moved here.  Except for one problem.

Florida Man (and his younger sister, Florida Girl).  You know him/her.  They drive a pickup truck, bigger than their house.  Own a gun.  Go to church on Sunday.  Don't like Asians much.  Work in food service or PT.  Get rowdy when liquored up.

I knew Jamie's type right away.  I was hoping she'd be different, since I'd be working in close quarters with her.

She wasn't different.  She was worse.  We were getting along ..... but there was tension.

We could both feel it.

I started masturbating to it when I went to bed at night.

Then anytime I was home alone.

Jamie and me in a vicious catfight.

To be continued....

[sinclairfan]

It wasn't just that I wanted to fight Jamie.  It was much more .... specfic.... complete ... of a fantasy than that.

I wanted a vicious catfight with her.  Lots of body contact.

As a Korean, I had been exposed to tae kwon do sparring.  Lots of blocking.  Little bit of quick jabbing, to score points.  Kicking.  Lots of kicking, including to a girl's groin, which is effective.  Carrying yourself with a certain confident posture .... to avoid a fight in the first place.

I did want to kick Jamie .... that would be satisfying.  But then I wanted to go in for a long, in-fighting clinch right after that.  That's not tae kwon do..... that's a catfight.

I liked how my high school catfights felt.  So close in with your opponent that you could smell her.  The same smell your boyfriend smelled when he fucked her.

Jamie and I walked past each other at work regularly .... close enough to smell each other.  She was so much younger than me.  Nine years.  I was 31, she was 22.  Her raven black hair smelled nice.

She never talked about fucking guys.  I wondered if she was maybe not straight.  Or maybe s Christian virgin.  Florida has a lot of those.  Saving themselves for marriage.

I overheard her one day, after a male customer complimented her on how strong she was at stretching his leg, saying he'd really see how strong she was if she ever got into a fight with him watching.

> Like against that Asian PT?  Lynn?

> ESPECIALLY against her.

> She seems strong.  Confident.

> I'd kick her ass in a fight.

> That would be a sight to see.

Did she know I overheard that entire conversation?

Did you, Jamie?

Did you?

That night, I masturbated from 8 pm till 11.

To be continued.....

[sinclairfan]

I knew that when my inevitable fight with Jamie finally came, I wanted it to be a catfight-style fight.

Because....

....of the handful of chickfights I had been in in the first 31 years of my life so far, my favorite .... my most exciting one ... had turned into a catfight.

During college, I kept busy by joining tae kwon do club.  It helped me network with others in the school's small Asian community.

One day, I was doing some light sparring with another Asian coed.  Tae kwon do includes lots of kicking--leg sweeps, and kicks to the groin, which actually score you points in competition.  The other girl, who I didb't much care for, was going after my groin at little too enthusiastically, and I got upset about it.  In fact, I lost my temper, which I hardly ever do.

Instinctively, I reached out with my hands and pulled on her straight, jet black hair, and starting pulling her head back and forth.  She retaliated and did the same to me, and it was 'on' between us.  We were in a real fight.

And not just any fight.  This was the real deal.  A scratching catfight.

Not a high school fistfight after detention under the bleachers.  She and I were scratching scalps and pulling out hair by the roots.

And I loved every second of it.

There were about 6 other girls working out in the club.  They didn't even notice us at first, because tae kwon do sparring can go to the ground.  But one of the girls finally yelled out, "Lynn is catfighting!  Lynn is catfighting.!"  The 6 girls circled around us, letting us finish.

The excitement of the fight .... and me and the other girl locking our legs together.... made me cum in my pants.  I think she came too .... so she may have instigated the catfight on purpose.

(If she did, I'm glad.)

When we got into a stalemated catball, the other girls broke us up finally.

But I was hooked on catfighting.

To be continued....

[sinclairfan]

With Thanksgiving fast approaching me, it occurred to me that Jamie and I would have a five day weekend from work (Wed/Thurs/Fri/Sat/Sun):    the longest stretch of time we'd have available all year to recover from both the cosmetic and .... structural (bones, joints, muscle tears) ..... we'd be hopefully inflicting on each other in the type of fight I wanted to have with Jamie.

I needed to challenge her soon.  I hoped she didn't have weekend travel plans.

The next time I saw Jamie at work, she had her shiny black hair down in wavyi-ish locks, some of which came down to her shoulders.  I had never noticed how long her hair was until that day .... it was normally tied up, not so much in tight bun, but in a loose sort of .... I don't know, a pile?  That pile had masked how long and thick her hair actually was.

So much available hair for me to pull.

Jamie didn't appear to spend as much on her hair as other girls her age .... 6 to 9 years younger than me.  Born in the early 2000s, rather than the mid 1990s.  Those girls had lost their high school and college years to pandemic lockdowns. 

But Jamie had still managed to find chickfights.  She must enjoy fighting as much as I did.  I wonder .... did she think about fighting me?  She sure talked about it a lot to our office receptionist .... and sometimes even to patients.  Especially the women patients.

Was she waiting for me to challenge her? 

One day, in mid-November, as she was with a patient, I wrote "bitch" on a sticky note, and placed it on her standing keyboard.  I waited anxiously for her to see it, read it .... and see if she figured out who wrote it.

Twenty-five anxious minutes went by, my pussy dripping in anticipation.

She walked to her keyboard and stoically read the sticky note.

She pulled out her cellphone and typed.

My cellphone buzzed.  I had a text.

<> Anytime, you slut Korean bitch.

Well, well.

Jamie DOES want to fight me.

Sweet.

To be continued....

[sinclairfan]

The next day at work, as we were prepping for our morning patients, and in earshot of our 3 co-workers, Jamie asked me:

> Lynn?  Lynn?  Can I borrow your back for 5 minutes?

> [Borrow my back?  WTF is she asking me?]  I guess.  What .... what do you need me to do??  [Shit.  Did I show weakness?  Never show weakness to a bully.  Or a rival.]

> Well, we got this new tub of lotion in yesterday.  I want to make sure it's not too greasy.  Can I give you a backrub with it?

> Please.  Do.  [Was she expecting I'd say no?  Reverse psychology.]

> [Jamie leads me over to one of our massage pads.  In PT, the massage tables are 'double-wides'-- they're double the width of conventional massage tables, both to accomodate patient injuries which they may be in rehab for, and to let the PT mount the table to get good stretches in on the patient.]  Well? .... Lose the top, Lynn.  .... And your bra. ... Don't be shy.  It's your friend .... Jamie.

> [Shit.  Did I just walk into a trap?  Was Jamie trying to get me to lose my top in front of our coworkers?  In front of her?]   I'm not shy.  [I remove my blouse.  Then my bra.]

> Ok, good.  I know sometimes  flat-chested women are shy about getting topless.

> [Ok, time out, bitch.  I'm no Jayne Mansfield.  But neither is Jamie.  She and I are comparable:  30B.]  I like my chest.  Under a shirt.... OR outside one..... Oooof.

> [Jamie interrupts my apologia for my bust by squeezing my upper back hard.  Way too hard.  And way too aggressive.]  Enough chatter, Lynn.  [For the next 10 minutes, Jamie gives me a rough, clinically-baseless, unpleasant massage.  She leans into my ear so none of our coworkers can hear:  ]  If you give me your back even once during our fight, honey, .... I WILL FUCK YOU UP.

Point noted.  Bitch.

To be continued....

[sinclairfan]

Jamie was acting very ..... aggressively .... fearlessly .... cocky .... towards me.  She had since she started working in our office.  Normally, coworkers or, when I was in school, other coed students or friend-circle rivals would be wary of acting cocky towards me. 

My tae kwon do training taught me how to carry yourself so that others would know not to provoke me.  Or, at least .... not to provoke me without reason.  I mean, if you're on a collision course with another girl over a guy .... and the guy is worth fighting for .... then, so be it.  Girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.

But Jamie was provoking me for no reason.  Or .... just for the thrill of provoking me.

Or .... maybe I was inviting it.  Maybe my tae kwon do posture wasn't sufficiently convincing to her.  Maybe I subconsciously recognized .... that Jamie was one strong bitch.

Strong physically.
Strong mentally.
Strong at fighting.

What if .... when we did eventually fight ..... she kicked my ass.

Losing a fight to Jamie would be mortifying.  Unacceptable.  A huge setback.

And not just in my status with her.

What if I started to wear that loss .... everywhere .... with everyone.

What if, going forward, every woman in my life could tell I had a humiliating fight loss on my record.  The would start bullying me .... rolling over me.... taking my man ... my money .... my job .... my pride.

It would cascade on itself.

Is that what Jamie was trying to do?

Ruin my status? 
Ruin my pride?
Ruin my life?

What a bitch.

To be continued....