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"Claws Out Hearts On Fire" Starting of CatFight to Sexfight chp 3

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Offline Fetish Clown

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Continuation of catfight to brutal SexFight with full chapter 3

"Claws Out Hearts on Fire"
https://www.freecatfights.com/forums/index.php?topic=119929.0
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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.
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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, ancient blood feud.

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. Their spinning Caduceus bounced off the walls, as it twirled about, an angry feline tornado, 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.


{alt}

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 sixty 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, navigating 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, parting 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 slippery table top roll, on the soft deep carpet.
{alt}
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, over 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, until they finally 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.

{alt}

She spat on Jacky's face again, 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.

{alt}

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.

.........
{alt}
----------
.
Their bodies were on fire, a searing heat that drove them to grind harder, to rut against each other like wild animals.
Susan reached down, her nails digging into the soft flesh of Jacky's thighs as she spread her legs wider. "You fucking like that, don't you?" she panted, her voice a low growl. "You like feeling my cxnt against yours, don't you, you little slut?"
Jacky moaned in response, her body arching against Susan's. "Fuck yes, I do," she admitted, her voice thick with lust.
"I love the feel of your cxnt against mine, Susan. I love the way you grind against me, making me feel every inch of your body."
Susan grinned, a feral, predatory expression. "Then take it, Jacky. Take all of it. Take my fucking cxnt and my clit and my fucking body. Take everything I've got to give you."
Jacky's hips bucked upwards, her body eager and desperate. "Yes, give it to me, Susan.
Fucking give it to me," Jacky begged, her voice hoarse with desire. Her hands clawed at Susan's back, leaving red welts in their wake. She arched her hips, seeking more contact, more friction.
Susan snarled, her primal instincts taking over. She reached down, ripping the remnants of her blouse open, exposing her heaving breasts. She grabbed one, squeezing it hard, her nails digging into the soft flesh. She leaned down, her tongue flicking out, licking at the sweat-slicked skin.
Jacky's breath hitched, her back arching off the floor as Susan's mouth latched onto her nipple. She sucked hard, her teeth grazing the sensitive flesh. Jacky cried out, her hands fisting in Susan's hair, pulling her closer.
Susan smiled against Jacky's breast, her tongue swirling around the nipple before she bit down again. She could feel Jacky's heart racing beneath her, the frantic rhythm matching her own. Her hand slipped between them, her fingers finding the wet heat of Jacky's pussy through the pantyhose.
She rubbed her clit, feeling the nylon chafe against her sensitive flesh. "You're so fucking wet, Jacky. You want this, don't you? You want my cock in your cxnt?"
Jacky's eyes were wild, her breath coming in short gasps. "Yes, fuck, yes. I want it, Susan. I want your cock in my cxnt."
Susan's fingers explored, finding the edge of Jacky's pantyhose. She hooked her fingers into the thin material, tearing it open with a savage ripping sound. "Fucking take it," she growled, her voice thick with lust.
She thrust her fingers into Jacky's wet cxnt, feeling the tightness squeeze around her digits. Jacky moaned, her hips bucking against Susan's hand, urging her deeper. Susan obliged, pumping her fingers in and out, her thumb circling Jacky's clit, applying pressure that had Jacky crying out and writhing beneath her.
"You like that, don't you, you little slut?" Susan hissed, her voice a low rumble of desire.
Jacky's hips then heaved skyward shoving her own clit into Susan's cxnt,  while grabbing and rolling Sue underneath her for Jacky's turn on top. Susan resisted at first and the two catballed together again, one on top then then other, but this time their cxnts became raw and nude, slopping together in their own entangled sexual rage of catfight lust. Jacky ended on top spreading her legs and Sue's then ripping off what was left of both their nylons and proceeded to clit fuck Susan with her now hard elongated clitoris.  Susan moaned loudly as Jacky began to gyrate her hips, rubbing her clit raw against Sue's. "Oh my God, fuck me, Jacky. Fuck me with your fucking cock," Susan panted, her hands gripping Jacky's ass, helping her move faster and harder.

.........
 {alt}
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Jacky grinned, her eyes wild with lust and the primal need to dominate. She leaned down, her long blonde hair falling around her face, and spat in Susan's face. "You want this cock, you fucking bitch?
You want to feel my clit inside your cxnt?" Jacky snarled, her hips grinding against Susan's, their naked slick bodies sliding against each other, the sound of flesh on flesh filling the room. The air was thick with their mingled breaths, the scent of sweat, and the raw, animalistic pheromones that hung heavy between them. They were no longer Susan and Jacky, the senior consultant and the computer specialist; they were primal, snarling beasts, driven by base desires and a primal need to dominate and be dominated.
Jacky's clitoris, slick with her own arousal, rubbed against Susan's with each thrust, the friction sending shockwaves of pleasure through both women. She leaned down, her long blonde hair falling around her face like a curtain, and captured Susan's mouth in a brutal kiss. Their tongues clashed, teeth biting and sucking on lips, their moans of pleasure mingling with the wet, sloppy sounds of their bodies coming together.
Susan bucked her hips in time with Jacky's, meeting every thrust with her own.
Jacky's clit had a condition known as Clitoromegaly, which truely gave her a much larger clit than Susan's.  At this point she was truely top dog, as both women began to gyrate their clits together as they began to squirt pussy cum into one another, while still tongue fighting and spitting into the other woman's mouth.  "You like that, you fucking little cxnt tease?" Jacky snarled, her teeth sinking into Susan's bottom lip, drawing blood. "You like the feel of my big fucking clit in your cxnt?"
Susan spat back, her eyes locked onto Jacky's. "Fuck yes, I do," she hissed, her hands gripping Jacky's ass tighter, urging her to move faster, harder. "I fucking love it.
I love your big clit inside me, Jacky. I fucking love the way it fills me up, the way it makes me feel like I'm gonna explode," Susan moaned, her back arching off the carpet as Jacky's hips ground against her, their clits rubbing together with a wet, obscene sound.
Jacky's eyes were wild, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. "You like that, don't you? You like feeling my big clit in your cxnt, you fucking little slut?" she snarled, her voice thick with lust and dominance.
"Then fucking come for me, Susan. I want to feel you squirt all over my big fucking clit. I want to feel you lose control, you pathetic little cxnt."
Jacky's hips moved like a piston, her massive clit slamming into Susan's over and over again, their wet pussies making obscene, slapping sounds that filled the room. Susan could feel her body tensing, her muscles clenching as the pleasure built inside her, threatening to overwhelm her. She was close, so fucking close, and Jacky knew it.
She could feel Susan's body tensing beneath her, her hips bucking wildly, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. Jacky's own clit was slick with sweat and their combined juices, her massive length slamming against Susan's clit with every thrust. She could feel the heat building between them, the friction of their bodies driving them both to the edge.
"You fucking love it, don't you, Susan? You fucking love feeling my big clit inside you, don't you, you cxnt teasing whore?" Jacky growled, her voice thick with lust and dominance.
Susan's fingers clawed at the carpet, her body writhing beneath Jacky's, her eyes locked onto Jacky's. "Fuck yes, I do," she hissed, her voice raw with desire. "I fucking love it, Jacky. I fucking love your big clit inside me. It feels so fucking good, you bitch. It feels like it's filling me up, making me yours. Make me come, Jacky.
Make me fucking squirt all over your big clit,” Susan begged, her voice a low, desperate moan. She knew she was close, so close to the edge, and she wanted to push Jacky over it with her.
Jacky’s eyes were wild as she looked down at Susan, a primal, predatory gleam in her gaze. She leaned down, her long blonde hair cascading around her face, and captured Susan’s mouth in a another long and brutal, savage kiss. Their teeth clashed, their tongues dueled, and they bit and sucked on each other’s lips, a battle for dominance played out in the most intimate way possible.
Susan could taste Jacky’s desire on her tongue, could feel the slickness of her lipstick under her teeth. Their moans filled the room, a symphony of need and want, as their hands roamed over each other’s bodies, seeking out every inch of bare skin.
Jacky’s fingers gripped Susan’s hair, yanking her head back to expose her neck. She trailed her tongue down the length of it, sucking and biting on the soft flesh. Susan gasped, her body arching off the carpet as pleasure shot through her.
“You taste fucking amazing, Susan,” Jacky growled, her voice thick with lust.
She continued her assault on Susan’s neck, her tongue lapping and her teeth nipping, leaving a trail of red welts in their wake.
Susan moaned, her body writhing beneath Jacky’s touch. “Fuck, yes, you do. I fucking love the way you taste, Jacky.” She arched her back, pushing her breasts into Jacky’s face. “Taste me, Jacky. Lick my fucking tits.”
Jacky smiled, a wicked, predatory grin, before she obliged. She took one of Susan’s nipples into her mouth, her tongue swirling around the hardened bud.
She sucked hard, her teeth grazing against the sensitive flesh, eliciting a moan from deep within Susan. Jacky moved to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment, her fingers pinching and rolling the first one. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pain and pleasure that sent shockwaves of desire coursing through Susan’s body.
« Last Edit: February 18, 2025, 08:03:05 AM by Fetish Clown »
Is it real or is it Fetish Clown? I like cat fights, wrestling, mixed, sexfights, cat balling, face sitting, scissors, Alien twists, sci-fi fetish, Monsters Vampires, foot, leg, upskirt and other sexy fetish. YES I do CUSTOMS