I knew there would be a price to pay, a catfight between myself and Erin was always going to be a costly affair. Physically, emotionally and financially this catfight is about as expensive as they come, however never in my wildest dreams did I ever imagine such a vile and stomach churning twist…but more on that later dear readers
Now is not the time to discuss outcomes, now is the time to discuss the hot mess that myself and Erin are right now. Together we lay on the carpet of Rachel’s living room, our bodies are covered is bruises and scratch marks and the occasional bite mark as well. You could say both myself and Erin have gone all Jackson Pollock one each others bodies and if you did, I would agree with you.
However with both of us near physical and mental exhaustion neither of us have the energy for any more explosions of fire and drama. You see smashing each other through a cheap table will do that to you. However we still have a score to settle, the winner of this catfight will cement her place of authority within our dysfunctional circle of friends. While the loser will crash to bottom where she will be mercilessly bullied by her beloved friends until she has recovered enough to catfight again and hopefully regain some standing. If (now this is my big fear) both me and Erin fight to exhaustion with no winner, then as previously mentioned I fully expect our beloved friends to seize the opportunity to attack and beat both us. So with this undesirable outcome hanging over us like the Sword of Damocles, myself and Erin engage in a different kind of warfare - sexual.
With fingers buried deep into each other’s hungry kitty’s, we both finger fuck each other like a $1 whore! We match each other thrust for thrust, tease for tease and with every passing moment the very real threat of succumbing to the tsunami of sexual energy building within us grows. We both bite our lips until they bleed, we grit and gnash our teeth together - we do everything we can to prevent ourselves from cuming first. But and this is honestly a huge but, I can’t deny that Erin’s touch is nirvana itself.
In another world me and Erin would be having an affair, instead of me having occasional sex with her boyfriend. But regrettably me and Erin will never happen, firstly one of us would have to acknowledge the other as the relationship alpha…and yeah that’s not gonna happen. So no matter how much friends may ship us, look elsewhere for your match making and yes that is genuine regret you hear in my voice…but I digress.
Our fingering continues until we reach the point where our bodies begin to twitch and flinch against our will. And it was at this moment you gasp:
“You know you can't resist me bitch"
With my free hand I flick my sweaty and now matted together hair out of my eyes and gasp back at you:
“Mmm No! It’s you who can’t resist me slut!”
Our words just steel each other’s determination to make the other cum first. It’s also at this moment your right hand rakes its nails down my right arm. You unconvincingly try to smile as you do this, but considering your fighting your own building orgasm - you don’t quite manage to pull off the cocky and confident bitch look. I consider scratching you back but your mouth on my breast nipple is a convincing deterrent.
With cum beginning to pool on Rachel’s carpet (Not an uncommon event in this house) we enter the end game, with only seconds, maybe a minute at most until one or both of us cum. We finger each other’s kitty with renewed vigour, while our bodies bend and contort against our will - fuck this felt so good!
This is it, I could not take it anymore! My kitty is about to roar and flood the carpet in a sea of my delicious nectar. Oh you don’t believe me it’s delicious? Ask your husbands and boyfriends bitches! But then it happens…arguably one of the most traumatic events of my life. Erin takes Rachel’s stocking and shoves it in my mouth - my face turns like death and through muffled screams I cum all over the carpet and Erin’s hand. However my orgasm is over shadowed by Erin’s use of Rachel’s stocking. Even amongst my friends Rachel’s skanky lifestyle was something quite extraordinary. I swear to god, that bitch has been wearing this same pair of stockings for at least 7 months and during that time they have encountered every bodily fluid known to science. The only fluid alien to Rachel’s stockings in clean or soapy water! I can’t…I just can’t describe the taste in my mouth - that bitch Erin, that fucking bitch gave me PTSD. So instead of enjoying one of the greatest and most satisfying orgasms of my life - I’m left traumatised.
However as Erin squeals through her own orgasm, I take Rachel’s stocking and thrust the ungodly fabric straight into Erin’s mouth. I make sure a particularly stained section hit her tongue first. As Erin begins to choke on the ungodly fabric, my inner monologue is screaming:
”How did you like that Bitch! Fuck you Erin, fuck you! I’m not going to be the only bitch needing a therapist after this fight you fucking whore!”With Rachel’s stocking’s being forced down each other’s throat’s, we stare blankly into each other’s eyes. What were we both thinking? I was thinking - penicillin, penicillin, penicillin!!! As for Erin, you would have to ask the bitch?
*Blah - Blah - Blah* Goes our beloved readers.
The peanuts - they were stunned! The horror of Rachel’s stocking’s can’t be underestimated. Yet there was an edge of excitement, they licked their lips as they began walking around the room. Their nails twitched as they excitedly identified targets for attack. Oh yes!!! The Peanuts were now spicy, very fucking spicy! The only balm that could soothe them would be the sight of either Erin or myself removing that ungodly fabric and rising to her feet in icky triumph. But do either of us have that inner strength left to claim victory?
