Pounding on you like i'm tenderising a joint of meat and to me, at this moment, that is exactly what you are, nothing more, nothing less, just a joint of meat. My fun is spoilt however when i'm grabbed by the biceps and hauled off you, i squirm and kick out with my legs but i'm held tightly. "I swear, i'll beat up each and everyone of you if you don't LET ME GO!!!" There is no lessening of the hold these bitches have me in however so i guess that threat didn't work, maybe they enjoy a good fight as much as i do?
In my struggle to free myself i fail to notice that you are back on your feet. You look a bit worse for wear but not nearly as bad as i intend to make you look. You literally throw yourself at me, or at least that's what i assumed. We all know assumption is the mother of disaster, but in this case it's not me who is the object of your rage, it's Rachel. Now i assume...(oh crap, there's that assumption thing again) that Rachel was one of the bitches holding my arms cos suddenly i find myself free. I'm fascinated by what is going to happen next and happen it does as you drive your fist into Rachels face sending her flying backwards on to the floor looking for all the world like she's out for the count.
Your rage continues as you scream at her to stay out of our business (You said it a bit more forcefully than that but i'm far too ladylike to repeat your exact words...yeah right )
You turn your anger back on me, taking me down onto the carpet and pressing your hips down on mine you start to claw and throw punches. I wriggle n squirm under you as i try to land a few shots of my own but with you in top position i'm hardly able to land a decent blow.
Then, the doorbell chimes saving me from any further punishment as you are dragged off me and i am dragged to my feet. We are roughly shoved into the cloakroom and told to stay quiet, like you and me in a confined space are gonna stay quiet.
I wipe my hand over my face and see streaks of blood from where your claws have left their marks. I'm sore, bruised and acheing all over but for some perverse reason i enjoy fighting with you, probably cos you give as good as you get.
So we stand there face to face, i've no desire to headbutt you, that lump on my forehead wouldn't like that. We strain to hear what is happening outside and who is at the door but the conversation is muffled, so we turn our attention to each other.
"Is it true you gave my then bf a blowjob bitch?" i hiss, you don't need to answer i can see by the look in your eyes that you did. What you don't know is that your then bf has been screwing me, well truth be told it's been me screwing him but either works, for a good 6 months. I deliberately stalked him, teased him and chatted him up till there was no way he could resist me. But you have yet to discover this. Discover it you will though as i look to hurt you mentally just as much as physically.
The cloakroom is small and we are literally pressed together, our eyes locked together, hatred pouring from them. I reach for your throat just as you reach for mine. We both attempt to stay quiet but it's difficult as our fingers tighten around our respective windpipes. We squeeze, nails dig into flesh, eyes widen, knees wobble, then i thrust my right thigh between your spread thighs and force it up against your naked mound. Physically, mentally and sexually, i intend to destroy you in each and anyway i can. I start to rub my thigh over your kitty. I'm feeling light headed as i'm slowly throttled as i'm sure you are but let's see if you can resist me sexually and keep up your pressure on my throat.
