He watched as his beautiful blonde wife unloaded with 3 consecutive punches to the stomach of the redhead she had been battling for the last 10 minutes. The redhead was younger, probably around 30 to his wife's mid 50's, and seemed sure she would win the fight. She was fitter looking than the blonde, an early left hook had buckled the older woman's knees and been thrown with perfect form, and her defense was better than most women. But, here she was, naked as the day she was born with sweat glistening in the dim light of the ballroom, as the equally unclothed older woman was now taking her apart.
A knee to the crotch, followed by an uppercut, sent the younger woman sliding down the wall to her ass, sobbing her surrender.
"Nope, slut, that's not how this goes. Winner decides when it's over, and you're going to do everything I tell you if you don't want me to beat your ass unconscious."
He knew that familiar refrain, the one where she would beat a woman badly, humiliate her in front of everyone, and often times bring the loser and her husband back to their room for a dominant foursome. He knew he would probably get off to both women, and likely cum at least 3 times tonight, but the nagging feeling in his mind had finally blossomed.
It wasn't supposed to be this way. When that young singer wrote that song about them in 1982, he was the lead name and she was the lucky blonde who would ride his coattails. After high school, it had started as just that. He leveraged the opportunities that football had given him into several profitable business ventures, while she occasionally had to mark her territory by fighting off someone trying to get into his pants. At first, she did okay in the fights, but as time passed he had a few financial blunders and she became a vicious brawler looking for any excuse.
While she had lost a few in the early days, that time had long since disappeared. His blonde tigress would routinely beat women to a pulp and leave them crying. But, in the rare instance where the other woman could give her a fight, his wife would extend things beyond the fisticuffs and try to break the woman's will sexually. This night had been one of those. A swanky ball had given the blonde her excuse to wear a far too revealing gown and go on the prowl. She spotted the redhead early on and told him she was going to take that bitch. He smiled at the thought, seeing the other woman's youth and physique, not letting his own wife know that he was hoping she had bitten off too much to chew. A few "accidents" happened, and there she was screaming a challenge to the redhead in front of everyone, a fistfight that was over when the winner accepted the loser's submission. The challenge to lose the dresses let his blonde babe show off her still sexy body, as she intentionally wore nothing underneath. The redhead surprised him a bit, not hesitating to lose her bra and panties to match her opponent. He saw the muscle definition, the abs and biceps that showed evidence of a quality workout routine and diet, as well as breasts that seemed plump, firm, and real. He really thought this would be the night his blonde beauty would regret picking a fight. Instead, after getting rocked early, she had recovered and was as domineering as he had ever seen.
"Beg me slut. Beg me to give your man the best blowjob he's ever had." She begged and his wife obliged, the other man not fighting it at all and groaning with pleasure as he was relieved of his load.
"Beg me to take your loser ass up to our room and fuck you like the whore you are with my strap-on." Again, the redhead was immediately compliant, and he watched as his wife dragged the other woman to her feet by her hair, instructed each husband to collect their previously discarded clothing and follow along, and then proudly marched her latest conquest towards the elevator.
As he walked quickly behind the two women, a few thoughts fought for prominence in his brain. One, while his wife would probably be more focused on humiliating the other woman, he had a decent chance of getting a piece of the redhead's fabulous body. Two, his blonde babe would likely force the other man to service both of them, something he had begun to adjust to. Three, for the first time since the song was written about them he knew one thing for sure, Jack HATED Dianne.
