Backseat Battle: Remastered by Rival’s Rapture

Every weekday, Brenda came home from a long, exhausting day at the office, to find her husband Mark watering the crisp green grass of their well-kept front yard. There was nothing wrong with him undertaking that chore, mind you, as it was a task that Brenda wanted done.

Nevertheless, the blonde wife and mother found herself bothered. Not by her husband or his methods of hosing, but instead at the view presented to him as he undertook those duties.

Namely their neighbor across the street. A 19-year-old girl named Samantha, who had apparently decided to sunbathe in her own front yard, at the very time when Brenda’s husband would be unable to avoid seeing her no matter how hard he might try.

Some might assume Sammy’s timing was coincidental, but Brenda knew that it wasn’t. For so many reasons that Mark’s beautiful blonde spouse could barely count them.

No, Sammy – that little bitch – had decided to sunbathe with the intention of catching Mark’s eye. Laying out there in her chair, turning over or stretching to accentuate her curves and show off her straights, whenever Mark would look in her direction.

Sammy knew exactly what she was doing, and Brenda was on to her.

Now, hubby hadn’t done anything wrong. He hadn’t slept with the neighbor girl, or even talked to her, at least as far as Brenda knew. But, it was only a matter of time, with that hot little thing out there, prancing around, trying to catch her husband’s eye.

So, with that eventuality in mind, or more specifically stopping it, Brenda decided to act, intending to use her best weapon: her own body as both weapon and shield.

Because as hot as Samantha was, the wife of the man she was trying to lure was just as hot. Possessing her own pair of large breasts and a coke bottle frame.

All of which bolstered Brenda’s certainty that if she put her own body and sex appeal between Sammy and her husband, she had more than enough firepower to make that inexperienced hussy back down.

A conflict which Brenda imagined and planned out, as just home from another day at work, she stood next to her black SUV, glaring across the street at Sammy who once more had set herself up at the center of Mark’s view.

“Go watch the game, honey.” Brenda instructed, knowing that he needed to be kept in the dark about what she had planned. After all, he would assure Brenda there was no need. That he was loyal and wouldn’t stray. That he’d change the hours he watered the yard, or worse yet, defend Samantha as being innocent of the crimes Brenda had already found her guilty of.

So, no. He couldn’t know. He needed to just go inside and enjoy the evening, as Brenda took it upon herself to defend their marriage from the homewrecker laying siege.

“Now, slut….” The blonde murmured to herself, as the front door to their home shut behind her husband. Her blood boiling as she got back into her vehicle and then started it.

The SUV’s engine letting loose a heavy mechanical growl before, in a sudden lurch, it fired out of their driveway and then across the street where she stopped. The passenger door flying open before Sammy, who was readying herself to go back inside since her prey had gone away.

“Get. In.” Brenda said sternly and in demand.

“Um, what … are we going to get ice cream, MOM?” The young brunette asked, even as she without question got into the passenger seat and the SUV took off.

Down one residential street after another, the two drove, neither speaking. Each putting on their own little show of ferocity and fierceness. Communicating through expressions, looks, and mannerisms that were no less effective at throwing insults and conveying confidence. Each making clear their place in the other’s life and in the struggle that each knew was to come.

One each played out in their mind, as in silence they traveled to the bottom floor of a nearby parking garage, which luckily for them, happened to be empty.

Empty though it may have been, Brenda still drove to the absolute back of its structure, before bringing the car to a stop. The blonde wife then putting the car in park before turning to face her young, smirking rival.

“You’re trying to seduce my husband,” Brenda announced as to lay the foundation of their conversation, while also providing Sammy her first chance to back down.

“Uh, no…. I AM seducing your husband. ‘Trying’ is what you’re doing, Ms. Old Body,” Samantha cooed, as she reached for, adjusted, and then examined her hair and makeup in the SUV’s rear-view mirror.

“Bitch! You WISH you had a body like mine,” Brenda fired back, as she and her brunette passenger then met eye to eye and glare to glare.

“Yeah, maybe I will when I’m like 80. BIG MAYBE, though,” came the neighbor girl’s confident retort. One she set loose from her ruby-red lips.

“Sorry to break it to you, but no matter how long either of us live, you’ll still just be a distant second to me.“ As Brenda spoke, she examined the youth-buoyed body of her cocky rival. Hoping to find some glaring lack that she could point out. But instead, to the blonde’s great dismay, she found only parity. Parity, and that unbelievably infuriating smirk on Samantha’s face.

“Fuck you, you old cunt. My body has been MORE than enough to lure your husband into watching me tan every day. While you drink your prune juice or whatever.” Though the words spoken by the ponytailed brunette sounded of irritation, a clear excitement welled in her eyes.

“Well that ends today, you little slut. Or else….” Brenda declared.

“Fucking ancient cunt, what are you gonna do, hit me?” Asked her rival, as with every shared comment, the two leaned closer and closer together, over the center-console of the SUV.

“Hit you? Really? Maybe if, like you, I didn’t have the slightest clue how to fight like a real woman.” A question, an insult, and then a challenge. A challenge that instantly made the hair on both women’s arms stand up.

“Oooh, you want to fight like real women? Why don’t you tell me what you THINK that means, Betty White?” If Brenda weren’t so filled with jealousy, frustration, and passion, she might have been able to read Samantha’s face, or catch the knowing glint in her eyes. But wrapped up in all of those emotions and more, she clung to her dare, there in the driver’s seat of her vehicle.

“It means you take off that skimpy fucking bikini, we get in the backseat, we meet pussy to pussy, and fuck until one of us cums!” The words felt filthy as they leapt from tongue and past lips. Taboo in the most intense of ways. And though they did, Brenda was NOT going to let this brat take or tempt her husband again.

“You REALLY think you stand a chance against me? You and that mom-bod of yours? You’ll be lucky if you don’t turn to dust and blow away the second we touch.” She was being confronted. She was being challenged. She was being asked to cross lines that seemed miles too far. And though she was, Samantha held tightly to her defiant smirk.

“If you cum, no more suntanning in the front yard and you stay away from my fucking husband.” Brenda said, laying out the terms of a contest the likes of which made both women tremble with anticipation.

“And if I win?” Samantha asked, wanting Brenda to say it – to speak the fate she foresaw into the universe.

“You won’t, so it doesn’t matter.” After offering only that, Brenda tried to turn away from her eye to eye glare with Samantha, so that she could make her way to the backseat without giving what Samantha wanted. But as that dodge began, Samantha reached and grabbed Brenda’s hands, which had rested on the center console.

“Say it, bitch!” Sammy demanded, her tone harsh and unrelenting.

“Why you little…” Brenda reacted in aggravation as once more she locked gazes with Samantha. “You get to…” The blonde then began, not even sure how to put the image – the nightmare she had so clearly in her mind into words.

“I get to fuck your husband,” interjected Sammy, just as Brenda’s lips parted to offer the same, “and you’re going to watch me, BRENDA!” There it was. Not an insult. Not a reminder of her age. No, Samantha had said the blonde’s name, just as she released her held hands, showing that name was known.

Memorized.

Proving there was more to this than a simple crush. More to Samantha than a just graduated senior with a hang up on an older man. And though, Brenda again failed to pick up on that tell, still hearing Samantha say her name felt like she had been branded.

Marked, even as she prepared herself to fight for a man named the same.

True though all of that was, still did Brenda reply with a single word. “Deal…” That single syllable setting the terms of their contest, just as the thirty-something blonde turned once more, this time successfully, so she could get out and get ready. The brunette thereafter following suit.

Each of the two women then stripping off their clothes before opening the doors to the backseat of the SUV on their respective sides of the vehicle and crawling in.

It was there, in the middle, they met.

Face to face.

Eye to eye.

And though Brenda expected a second round of trash talk. Or maybe a slow, sensual, familiarizing embrace, the very moment Samantha was in range for it, she reared her ponytailed topped head back, and then spit directly in Brenda’s face.

A move that caught the blonde entirely off-guard, and caused her to close her eyes, just as the 19-year-old dove forward and tackled her. A surprise attack that left Brenda, who was still trying to clean phlegm from her eyes, no chance to resist as the brunette grabbed her left leg, brought it vertical, and then crossed their thighs in a terribly uneven scissor. Samantha upright and on her knees, while her rival was caught on her back and still reeling.

From that perch, the young seductress began to grind her already wet pussy against Brenda’s. Rolling her hips back and then forward, putting all of her gymnastics and cheerleading practice to good use to find good angle.

Brenda, who was at that moment trapped on the bottom and at her rival’s mercy, instantly knew how much trouble she was in. She had demanded this engagement and set the terms; prompted though she may have been.

And after doing all that, she had found herself on her back, getting fucked hard. Not frantically like a pimple-faced boy on his prom night, but expertly by a girl who clearly knew how to use her fit, toned, and energy-filled body to full and infuriating effect.

All of which caused feelings of shame, frustration, and fear to wash over her along with cascading waves of pleasure. In reaction, Brenda tried desperately to rise up, as those collisions of soft, pink majesty came again and again. The pinned wife trying to use her elbows to prop herself up, as she reached for something – anything to grab hold of, as to try and pull herself back up to an even scissor with Samantha.

Unfortunately for the blonde, every time she extended her arms to catch the back of a seat or a seatbelt, her rival would grab at her hands or wrists and pry her grip loose. The brunette making sure the wife beneath her stayed there as they fucked – dripping wet cunt to dripping wet cunt.

That back and forth of attempt and defense – reach and refusal played out again and again, much to Brenda’s dismay.

“Fucking bitch! Get off me!” Brenda cried out.

“Fuck you, cum for me bitch!” Samantha replied.

“Ne–never!” The blonde refused.

“Mmmm, don’t lie to yo–yourself. You’re on the v–verge… I can see it on your face…”

The back and forth hisses caused the fate of being unable to escape her placement to fill Brenda’s mind and then to look up and into her rival’s honey-pool brown eyes. In that raised gaze, the blonde hoped to see that her upward thrusts, misangled as they may have been, were still having some effect on her threatening brunette rival.

And though yes, it did seem as if each sopping wet assault from below was having some effect, it was certainly not enough or matching the devastating pleasure she was enduring.

A pleasure that with every roll of their hips pushed Brenda further and further towards a devastating and life-destroying orgasm. The fate that laid in her future flashing before her eyes. Samantha fucking Mark in their marital bed. Not in secret, but with she, his shattered wife, placed just next to them crying. Tears rolling down her cheeks before Samantha leaned in and with her tongue lapped those same tears from Brenda’s face.

It was a nightmare worse than any other.

A hell that Brenda would not and could not accept as her future. Mark was hers. Fully and by holy matrimony, the State of California, and every other fucking thing that mattered.

And so driven by those thoughts, and desperate for anything that might save her from that humiliating and family-destroying defeat, Brenda’s eyes scanned the cabin.

There she found nothing but supple black leather. Handles and grips she could not reach. And the dim lights that kept their battle lit. A fruitless search that drove her only deeper into despair, until finally, it hit her. An idea which led her to reach up one more time.

Unlike earlier, this time she did not reach for a seat’s back or a seatbelt. Instead, she reached for Samantha. The brunette’s body. That which Brenda had sworn to conquer. Her hands grabbing not harshly, but gently. Sliding up the brunette neighbor’s frame as if lust had fully overtaken her.

A touch that told the tale of a mind that had gone from defiance and defense to submission and need. It was a sign that matched fully the look on Brenda’s face and the dulled fire in her eyes.

The blonde was breaking.

Submitting.

Asking to be pushed into orgasm and fucked into hopeless oblivion. All of which Samantha could have ignored, and kept to her assault. Keeping to her perched place upon Brenda, as to push her over that very same ledge.

But instead, as Mark’s wife reached up, the neighbor girl reached down for the same. The brunette looking to finish her quickly shattering rival in a body to body, missionary trib. A position that offered the chance to listen, watch, and feel Brenda cum for her.

Not separated and at a distance, but as close as two women can be.

It was during that slow, teasing descent, that Brenda suddenly grabbed for the brunette’s ponytail, and then quickly and violently yanked her face down between two matched mountains of merciless mammaries.

“Mmmmnnnppphhhh!!!” Samantha screamed, though it came out a mumble.

“Mmm–FUCK! Little… slut enjoying… mommy’s… tits?” Still half breathless and a quarter high on the pleasure that had almost swept her into orgasm, Brenda asked – taunting her suddenly captured cunt of a neighbor.

A neighbor whose unending assault of driving hips and crashing clits had finally lessened, as there in the backseat, the two women writhed. The young temptress trying to escape her suffocating place between her enemy’s breasts, before her oxygen ran out. And Mark’s loyal wife who tried with all her might to keep her clit away from her still wildly striking rival’s, needing to avoid an orgasm which was only seconds away from taking hold.

“Awww, what’s the matter, SAMANTHA?! Can’t breathe?” It was only then when Brenda had the cocky girl next door at her mercy, that she said her name.

A happening that would have driven Samantha wild, if she wasn’t so focused on slapping and clawing at Brenda’s every stretch of exposed skin. Strikes and slashes that were weakened, as the brunette’s consciousness began to drift, along with the memory of what it was like to breathe in anything other than the scent and flavor of Brenda’s tits.

Brenda, sensing that weakness, began to shift their bodies left, and then right. Left and then right. Until finally, Brenda earned the space to plant the sole of her right foot into the back of the seat they laid in and then push off. Sending the two into the narrow footwell of the backseat. Sammy landing on her back, pinned against the back of the center console, with Brenda atop her in a soul-deep cunt-to-cunt straddle.

Once within those cramped confines, Brenda held to her smother. Both to weaken her rival, but also to let all remnants of her nearly there orgasm pass into the distance.

Only releasing Sammy from between her breasts, when she was sure that she and the brunette predator beneath her were back zero in terms of pleasure, even if their placements were now completely reversed.

Samantha on bottom, gasping wildly for air, as the suddenly ascendant blonde wife knelt atop her. “Now, you little cunt. I’m gonna show you why Mark is MINE!” With that snarled taunt, Brenda began her own rolling of hips.

Each guided by years of experience and practice fucking the man she fought for, and those she had drained before him.

“Bitch…” Sammy spat out, as she struggled to regain her focus, fire, and ability to breathe.

“Such a naughty girl you are,” Brenda chided, between hard, driving strokes, and soft, sensual returns. Each causing the well-acquainted clits of the two warring women to drag alongside one another in the most intensely indulgent of ways.

Not once or twice – three times or a handful. But once and then again, for moments that blended into minutes. Minutes that stretched into a seeming eternity. Until screams and moans of pleasure filled not only the SUV, but the entirety of the bottom floor of the empty parking garage.

Samantha and Brenda’s voices overlapping as, there in that backseat, they melted together. Two rivals. Two enemies. Fucking for something each wanted so bad they could taste it.

So bad they would give almost anything to have it.

“Fuck you…” Samantha whined in defiance, though her eyes told a story far different.

“Beg me…” Brenda commanded as a force as strong as gravity seemed to pull them together once more. Samantha up and Brenda down. Each feeling what Samantha had felt before.

A need to get closer. A need to see, hear, and feel their rival in the most intimate of ways.

“Ne-never…” Samantha replied, even as the look on her face gave what her lips couldn’t.

Please – Samantha’s facial expression begged – Take me. Fuck me. Finish me! Want me! RUIN ME!

Brenda, with the palms of her hands pressed to either side of Samantha’s face, pulled her young rival up until they were face to face. Then, in that closeness, they rode one another. Further. Deeper. Faster. Harder.

The tips of their noses brushing and mouths opened and tongues extended to meet at the precipice of something wild and ravenous – something profoundly passionate and palpably unexpected.

They could each see it, feel it, and then as they kissed, taste it. Tears welling in their eyes, as an incalculable pleasure and unimaginable heaven threatened to overwhelm them and their intentions.

Was it seconds or minutes? A flash or a lifetime? Neither knew, and yet still, in the wake of that calculation, they retreated from that kiss, strings of spit clinging to and then arching between their lips as Samantha’s eyes closed and body began to tremble. Strings of saliva snapping free as the manhunting neighbor girl crossed into a devastating, soul-branding orgasm that caused the same to scream out in unrepentant and fracturing pleasure.

Screams that reached a crescendo, as her eyes rolled back into her head, and her toes began to curl.

The blonde wife watching her rival crumble in her grasp from only centimeters away. Her own eyes lit with confidence, glee, and satisfaction. All as her lips parted to whisper and hiss:

“He’s mine, bitch… Mark is mine… You see this ring, Sammy?” Brenda asked, as she lowered every finger on her left hand, save for the finger on which her golden wedding ring sat.

“You’ll never fucking have it. Not now. Not ever… This… You cuming for me and the pussy he fucks every night … is as close as you’ll EVER get to him…” The words were deeply cruel, and meant to drive a dagger directly into Samantha’s man-chasing heart.

Despite that kiss.

Despite that moment the two women had just shared.

And yet still, those words were not enough to make the brunette truly understand or to make she and Brenda even. And so the victorious blonde opened her mouth, gathered the mixed saliva that she and Samantha had just shared, and then spit into the brunette’s open mouth.

The liquid projectile causing the young woman to cough and choke as it traveled to the back of her throat and then into her windpipe.

It was then, as Samantha hacked and wheezed, that Brenda sat back and rode her broken, whimpering, hacking rival. Not to give her more pleasure, but instead to steal the same for herself.

Her long-denied release coming as she screamed Mark’s name in Samantha’s face. Neither breaking their gaze or looking away.

The victorious Brenda, a moment after her orgasm had passed, pulled herself out of the footwell, and then drug Samantha up from the same. Placing and propping up her young rival in the backseat, before exiting the vehicle, and getting into the driver’s seat.

Still naked. And truly not giving a single fuck that she was.

A look of pride beaming on her face as she looked into the rear view mirror and then announced: “Stay there, sweetie. Mommy will have you home in a minute.”

The End

To Read the Sequel to this Story, Click Here!

Backseat Battle 2

Sexfight: After a phone call with a friend, Brenda couldn’t be more set on going on a date with her hubby. But when the new babysitter turns out to be the affair-seeking neighbor girl she once defeated, plans and lives change.