Negotiations are quick when you can pull rank. Felicity agreed to one onlooker. Sorry, Carl. I was the one sipping a scotch neat in Janelle’s hotel room when Felicity arrived. She brushed past me at the door and into the room.
Let me step back as a storyteller as well.
Janelle is twenty-seven, two years out of law school. UPenn with honors, but she came from blue-collar coal mining country; no pampered Ivy League legacy bullshit. She’s tall, and blonde, and like I said before, fucking hot as hell. Long legs, a terrific body. Felicity was African-American, about the same age. Seriously, who cares where either of them went to law school? She was gorgeous. Short and wildly tousled natural curls. Slender but with a curvy ass and big breasts. On with the story.
Felicity peeled off her jacket and threw it and her purse on the desk. “You got me fired. So fuck you, bitch.”
Janelle was cool. “Your boss fired you, not me.”
“He fired me over the arm wrestling, bitch!” Felicity exploded.
Janelle shrugged. “You lost,” she said.
Felicity slapped her, hard. “Fuck you, cxnt!”
Janelle’s cool slipped. She slapped Felicity back.
I coughed. They both looked at me, breathing hard. “I can go now,” I said. “No one else is here to ambush you, Felicity. She came alone, Janelle, and she didn’t bring any weapons.”
Time to negotiate. “Or, I can stay. You need a neutral witness. Winning a fight with no one there to see it - by tomorrow, the loser denies it ever happened.”
“You’re not neutral,” Felicity said.
“I can be,” I said, and sipped my drink. “I’m a registered mediator. If you want me to stay I assure you I will not interfere in any way.”
“Are you fucking him?” Felicity said to Janelle. She slapped her again. The subject of me leaving never came up again. Some negotiations are easy.
They slammed together, jerking at each other’s hair. Off-balanced, they toppled onto the king bed, Felicity on top. She twisted Janelle’s head back, and to her right, both hands right at her scalp. Once she had that where she wanted it, she let go with one hand and pushed it under Janelle’s chin. She really had her neck torqued now. Janelle was gasping in pain.
“You came into my firm,” Felicity said. “Humiliated me. Got me fired. You fucking arrogant bitch. Now you pay for that.” Her hand on Janelle’s chin slid down to her throat, and choked her. She released her hair and ripped her blouse open, buttons flying. Janelle was wearing a white bra, enough lace to be corporate-sexy. It clasped in the front, and Felicity broke the clasp easily. Oh my. This sports car had gone from zero to sixty very quickly.
Still choking her, Felicity started slapping Janelle’s breasts, loud whaps to their sides, or top curves. “How do you like it, cxnt?” she said. Janelle dug her heel into the bed and bucked hard, bridged like a wrestler. Felicity flew off her, grazed the edge of the bed, and fell to the floor. Janelle rolled right after her and before Felicity could react she landed on her, her knee driving down into her stomach.
I think they’d both forgotten me already. Janelle threw off her torn blouse and bra and punched Felicity in the face. “I like this, cxnt!” she said. She grabbed the black girl by her curls to hold her head still and hit her in the mouth. Three times. Blood trickled from the corner of Felicity’s lips. Then Felicity’s hands shot up to Janelle’s chest. Janelle made a sound that I can’t describe in words, not really, as ten fingers sank deep into her breasts. Her pink nipples were in the vee between Felicity’s thumbs and fingers, and the pressure of Felicity’s grip exaggerated their bulge; they jutted up to an amazing extent, hard, blood-engorged peaks.
Felicity threw her off with that tit-grip. As Janelle went, she grabbed Felicity’s camisole top and pulled it up, trapping her arms. Felicity let it go to free herself. Her bra barely contained her breasts, one rock-hard dark nipple was already up and above its cup.
I unzipped and stroked my cock. Entirely inappropriate. But, a spit in the ocean compared to overseeing your second-year associate in a vicious catfight after letting her arm-wrestle opposing counsel. In for a penny.
Felicity had Janelle wedged against the bed in a half-sitting position, her claws in her breasts again. Janelle’s white skin was bright red. She retaliated, dragging her opponent’s tits out of her bra and mauling her back. Felicity threw her head back and shrieked as Janelle’s thumbs pushed deep into her nipples. She was the one that broke away, I noticed. Janelle noticed it too.
Sometimes, you don’t want the other side to know that you know their weak points. Other times, you do. You want them to know that you are coming for that chink in the armor. They got to their feet. Felicity moved to put her breasts back in place in her bra.
“Nuh uh, hon,” Janelle said. She cupped her own breasts. “Take it off, bitch. I’ll rip it off anyway. I’m coming after your nipples.”
Felicity glared at her. Her hands came up for a second to cover her nipples. A tell. Then she reached behind her back and unclasped her bra. Both topless now. Felicity went further. She unzipped her tight suit skirt, eight inches down her hip, and let it fall. Her white bikini panties, corporate-sexy again, no plain cotton on her, were a perfect contrast to her dark skin. She just tilted her head at Janelle. Janelle wriggled out of her grey skirt. Red panties. Mmmmmmmm. They both kept their shoes on. Heels were second nature to these two.
“Fight my tits,” Janelle said. “C’mon, bitch. Big bad black girl. Surely you think your fat tits can beat mine?”
To be clear, I am an equal opportunity employer. But that made me even harder.
They slammed together. Their breasts compressed, rolled in an erotic crush, back and forth across, up and down. Then dead center, Felicity moaned. They hadn’t forgotten me, at least not Janelle. I was part of the theater, the way to humiliate her rival. She pumped her chest into Felicity’s, her arms over her shoulders, wrapped around her neck. Felicity jerked like she’d taken an electric shock.
“Some women,” Janelle said, “have hypersensitive nipples. It can be intensely pleasurable or brutally painful.” She was narrating to me. Felicity’s eyes were closed, her lips parted. Janelle pumped again. “Or both at the same time,” she said. Their flat hard bellies slid over each other. “In a catfight it’s a real disadvantage.” That sentence was eleven syllables and on each one she punched her nipples into Felicity’s. Felicity’s cheeks were wet with sweat and tears. She leaned into Janelle, her head on her shoulder. She dug her nails into the blonde’s ass. Janelle didn’t even seem to notice. She rolled her shoulders, a slight figure-eight motion of her torso. Felicity moaned again, but it turned into a sudden scream as Janelle thrust again.
Three short digging steps and Janelle pinned Felicity to the wall. “My nipples are harder,” she said. “Hers are soft and weak. She can’t take this. My girls have pushed hers back into the center of her fat tits, just like I pushed her against the wall. You want to quit, don’t you bitch? Give up? Because it hurts so much?” Felicity shook her head but the pain in her face was obvious.
“And as bad as the pain,” Janelle said, as she ground into her, “is that she is soooooo close. She doesn’t know whether to beg me to stop hurting her or beg me to make her cum.”
Holy fucking shit.
With an expression of pure erotic cruelty, Janelle planted her feet and pumped hard, short pulses, into Felicity. The black girl climaxed violently. From where I sat, I saw her white panties darken slightly as she soaked them, and saw a pearly drop of her juices slide down the inner curve of her thigh. Great lawyers have that killer instinct.
