Sheri Anne Miller was the very picture of the successful American businesswoman. At the age of 29, she had worked her way up the corporate ladder to the position of head sales manager for the firm of Harcourt and Johnson Inc. Only a few people knew the truth, that she had lied, cheated, and fucked every obstacle in her path. Beneath the long blonde hair and the pixie smile lurked the heart of a predator. A vicious animal who would let nothing stand between her and what she wanted, and right now what she wanted most was to be appointed the first female VP the company had ever had.
Harcourt and Johnson was an old and conservative company run by an old and conservative man, Thornton Wilbur Harcourt IV, great-grandson of one of the company founders. Normally a person of Ms. Miller’s age, (and a woman yet), could wait a hundred years and never be appointed to a vice-president’s post, but times were changing. The board of directors wanted to bring the company into the future. One way to do this was to give women more voice in the day to day decisions, so word had come down from on high, that Thornton Harcourt was to appoint a female to the position of vice-president. Everything would have been perfect except for one problem, there was one other possible candidate for the job.
Her name was Gail Meridith Smith. Like Sheri, she was a fast corporate climber and would do whatever it took to get ahead. At 31, she was the youngest manager that central purchasing had ever had. Her long dark brown hair and startling blue eyes where both assets she used to full advantage. All told, the two women had a great deal in common and therefore, hated each other totally. On more than one occasion a chance encounter in the ladies washroom had led to name calling and threats. At least twice they had actually come to grips, clinching their bodies together and staggering back and forth across the washroom floor, pulling hair and ripping clothes, nevertheless, the final showdown never came. The truth was they didn’t dare to actually fight it out.
Sheri was confident she could take her Gail in a catfight, but not for free. There were bound to be some ugly scratches and dark bruises that neither woman could cover up or explain away. Word would get out about the fight and staunch old Harcourt would never promote a woman who was catfighting her rivals in the company restroom. So Sheri just bided her time, waiting for some chance to humiliate or disgrace her rival and Gail did the same.
The showdown came on a late Friday afternoon. Harcourt insisted on holding a manager’s meeting every Friday after lunch. While Harcourt held counsel with the VPs at the top of the table, all the department heads sat around the bottom, waiting to answer questions should the need arrive. The table was very long, but not very wide. The personnel department thought the narrow table gave the meeting a friendly air,
but all it really did was shove Gail in Sheri’s face every Friday afternoon. The highly ordered seating arrangement left them face to face at the very end of the table.
As usual, Harcourt was droning on about one boring subject or another while the two rivals exchanged baleful glances over the tops of the folders open in front of them. Today’s meeting had already run on for two hours and showed no signs of ending soon. The room was uncomfortably warm and Sheri’s left leg was falling asleep. As she uncrossed her legs, she accidentally brushed one of Gail’s legs under the table. Irritated by the contact, she pulled away only to feel Gail reach out and deliberately push her with one foot about a minute later. Irritated again, Sheri pushed back and thus it began. The two women began pushing against each other with their legs, under the table. Meanwhile, the meeting continued along with no one else the wiser.
Soon they slipped off their shoes and began to leg wrestle, locking their legs over and around each other. Both women were wearing pantyhose that day and the nylons slipped and slid as they intertwined their legs and began squeezing and squirming. As the two fought, they slipped lower and lower in their seats. This made their skirts ride up higher and higher on their thighs freeing more and more leg for the fray below. At this point, there was no point in denying the obvious, Sheri and Gail were fighting. The long-held hostility between these women could no longer be restrained. As the company bigwigs continued their conference at the top of the table, the two female managers were fighting it out at the bottom of the table. Unknown to anyone else in the room, the two women were locked together in brutal combat. Thigh to thigh, with their legs crossed and recrossed the two women strained against each other in a vicious contest of strength and stamina. The only sound was the occasional whisper of rubbing nylon as they wiggled and squirmed in each other’s grip.
After a time, Sheri noticed a warmth on her right knee. Soon she realized her knee was wedged tightly into her rival’s crotch. This gave Sheri a wicked idea. With a gentle rocking motion, Sheri began grinding her knee into Gail’s vagina. Within moments a quiet gasp from the other side of the table told her that her efforts were meeting with success. The warmth on her knee increased and then Gail suddenly released her grip on Sheri’s legs and pulled away breaking the contact. Sheri thought the battle was over, that is she did until she felt Gail’s foot run sensuously up her left thigh. The foot continued on course, higher and higher until it found its way to Sheri’s nylon clad crotch. There it quickly buried itself and began to make slow maddening circles over and around her clitoris. The effect was electric and Sheri dropped the pen she had been playing with.
After a moment of hesitation, she forced her foot between Gail’s thighs and the battle was on. It required nerves of steel to sit there quietly as the two women rubbed their feet into each other. Sheri wanted to jump up and fling herself onto Gail, but instead, they just seat there driving their feet deeper and deeper into each other as they rubbed each other to sexual madness. If the room was uncomfortably warm before, it was blazing now. Sheri’s blouse clung to her as sweat
poured off her body. Across the table, Gail wiped her face with a tissue and gave Sheri a sullen glare. sweat poured
Sheri’s blouse wasn’t the only thing becoming wet though. Her pantyhose were soaked clean through. Gail was surprisingly good at this. Nevertheless, the toe of her pantyhose was also damp from its work in Gail’s crotch. The battle continued, it went on and on, and then suddenly Gail stopped. She pulled her foot away leaving Sheri’s now overheated sex exposed to the cool air under the table. Sheri put her foot down as well, confused by the sudden ending.
Gail rooted through her purse and after a moment took something out and slipped it under the table. After about a minute she placed it in a folder and slid it across the table. When Sheri opened the folder all she found was a nail file. It looked like a nail file anyway, but Sheri knew that it was really a challenge. Taking a deep breath, Sheri slipped the nail file under the table. First, she used it to rip out the toe of her hose, then with great care, she used it to open a gaping tear in her pantyhose directly over her pussy. Putting the file back into the folder, she passed it back to Gail. The nail file disappeared back into the purse and Gail gave her a slight nod. Sliding down in her chair again, Sheri reached for her rival as Gail’s leg came sliding back up her thigh.
Slipping the free leg into a rung of the other woman’s chair, the two rivals moved their now bare toes to attack each other’s bared cunts. Sheri quickly slid her foot between Gail’s legs as she felt the other woman’s foot find her now exposed crotch. There would be no mercy now,
this was a fight to the death, corporate death at least. Sheri pressed home her attack, slipping her big toe deep into Gail’s pussy. Gail gasped out loud as Sheri penetrated her. Harcourt stopped his lecture just long enough to give her a stern look and ask if there was a problem. Gail shook her head no and Harcourt returned quickly to his discussion on declining corporate sales.
Sheri would have smiled except Gail’s toe found its way through her tangled pubic hair and immediately pressed inside her. She let out a little shuddering moan and received a stern look from the top of the table in turn. The meeting continued on course, while below the table, the fight continued in earnest. Locked together with no escape, the two women worked their toes deeper and deeper inside each other as each tried to drive the other to a screaming orgasm and public shame.
Sheri’s sex was on fire. Wave after wave of pulsing pleasure started in her sex and worked its way out with building force. Her breath became shallow and panting as her nipples became erect and pressed firmly against the flimsy, sweat-soaked blouse. She wasn’t going to make it she thought. Gail would force her to orgasm and she would whimper and moan like a common whore in front of all these stern-faced old men. The folder before her was swimming in and out of her vision. Her heart beat like a drum in her ears. Any moment now and it would all be over,
there was no way to pull back, no way to escape.
A high pitched squeaking scream suddenly wrenched the air. It took Sheri a moment to realize that the sound had come from Gail. Gail squirmed in her chair, arching her back and moaning again and again as Sheri finished her off under the table. Finally, she collapsed in a nearly silent whimper. Only after that last fluttering gasp did Sheri release her grip on Gail’s chair and withdraw her dripping wet toes from her rival’s snatch.
It was over, Gail looked up to see every member of the executive board staring at her in complete amazement. Grabbing up her folder, she burst into tears and fled the room. After a minute Harcourt turned to Sheri and asked if she knew what was wrong with Ms. Smith. Sheri merely shook her head and smiled. The word came down on Monday, Sheri was the firm’s newest VP. She dropped by Gail’s office to rub it in and found movers taking her things out in boxes. It seemed that Ms. Smith was being transferred to Kansas, the Siberia of Harcourt and Johnson. Sheri found victory very sweet indeed. Who says you can’t fuck your way to the top, she thought as she headed back to her new desk on executive row.
The End.