A conversation….
That We May Struggle
Christy made a decision.
She opened up the contact page on her laptop. There she found the entry for Marianne. She had received a message on the catfight site she browsed from time. It had said simply, call me, and listed a number. She had copied the name and number down.
Christy was a 43-year-old woman, dark-haired, slender. Her brown eyes were expressive, and she wore her hair long, past her shoulders. She was dressed in a plain white t-shirt and jeans, and wasn’t wearing a bra. The nipples of her teacup-sized breasts were poking the thin fabric of the shirt.
She tapped the headset to open a dial tone, and punched the number. It rang twice, and then a soft voice answered, “Hello?”
Christy hesitated half a second, then said, “Marianne?”
Again the soft voice. “Yes…”
Christy said, “Marianne – this is Christy. Is this an okay time?”
Marianne said, “Ohhh! Christy! Of course…I was hoping you would call. I didn’t know…well, didn’t know for sure what you would think. I felt awfully forward leaving you my number. Well…how are you?”
Christy relaxed. She thought this would be a fun conversation.
She said, “I’m good. I just thought that I’d … well, doing what we’ve talked about online, having a you know, real conversation would be good. Gawd, I’m still a bit nervous, like a schoolgirl. Sorry.”
“Oh, hell, sweetie, don’t worry about. We all have to start somewhere with this.”
Christy said, “So, I know you said online that you’ve been interested in this for years now. Well, me too, but I didn’t start looking deeper into it until a couple of years ago, when something happened.”
“Oh? Now that’s got my curiosity piqued. Tell me…everything!”
Christy paused, then said, “Well, it’s probably not all that exotic. But Jim – that’s my husband – were visiting some family. There were two cousins there, and they had a bit too much wine….so they got to fooling around, shoving each other, giggling, you know. They’re in their thirties, but like I said, they had some pinot Grigio, and were feeling no pain.”
Marianne chuckled a bit, “Oh, I know the feeling. Go on….”
Christy lowered her voice a bit. “Well, we’re out on the back patio, and Julie and Shannon start getting a little louder, and shoving each other a bit more. Now, they’re both wearing cutoff jeans and bikini tops, and they’re both sort of top-heavy if you know what I mean. Nice view of their cleavage if you know what mean.”
Marianne said, “Oh, yesss….oh this is great, Christy!”
“Well, all of sudden, Julie slaps Shannon, and boy oh boy, the fight was on. Shannon jumped at Julie, and they both go rolling on the grass next to the patio. And everyone is watching, sort of slack-jawed, wondering if they should do anything, but they’re both giggling while they’re rolling around, so there wasn’t any immediate need to break them up. They both locked up and rolled around, legs and arms locked together. I mean, I sort of got the feeling they really liked rolling around together.”
“Ooh! Kindred spirits?”
“You know, I think so. I talked to them afterwards, so…yeah, I think they got into it. Anyway, when I was watching, my first reaction was, hey, they’re fighting, we should stop this. But they’re were about a dozen of us there. I looked at Jim, and that boy was just watching and grinning, his eyes wide open. Everyone was just fascinated, and some were cheering them on! And I was watching, and I was fascinated too. They were so jammed together! And I was wondering what it would feel like to be in a catfight, to feel another woman’s body hard against mine. God, I was getting turned on!”
Marianne interjected, “Yes! That’s what it felt like for me!”
Christy said, “Really? I mean, I couldn’t help it – it was just so transgressive an act. Two women fighting like that. And they really were getting into it. And then, Shannon’s bikini top was pulled down, and she had one breast fully exposed. And I could see her nipple was hard.”
“Oh, God, mine would be too!”
Christy paused for a second, then said, softly, “Marianne, I wasn’t sure what was happening to me. I’m certainly not a prude, but something about the fight shocked me. I knew I shouldn’t, but I kept watching, and the back of my mind was wondering what it would be like to be in the middle of that fight, and have my body exposed like that. And I kept glancing at Jim, and he was just as avidly glued to the scene. I couldn’t swear, but I think he had an erection.”
“How long did the fight last?”
“Well, a couple of minutes later, Shannon punched Julie in the stomach, and that took the wind out of her. She rolled to the side on the grass, curled up a bit. Then Shannon noticed her boob hanging out, and she quickly tucked it back inside. She went over to Julie, said something I couldn’t hear, then she helped her cousin get up. It was like the movie stopped, and people were looking at each other, halfway embarrassed. Some wandered into the house for another beer. Jim looked at me and said something like ‘that was the entertainment for today’ and looked away.”
“What about when you went to bed that night?”
Christy lowered her voice a bit, and said, “I jumped on Jim that night, something I hardly ever do. Usually I let him make the first move. But when we got into bed in the spare room, I pulled my clothes off and attacked him! And he was ready, let me tell you! We rolled around the bed, halfway wrestling, and I pinned him down and sat on him. He slid up me, I mean I was dripping I was so wet. It usually takes me a while, but that night I came after pumping him five times, and had to bite my tongue to keep from yelling. He came a few seconds later, I could feel him fire it in me!”
“Oooh, that’s awesome! Did you talk about it afterwords?”
Christy said, “Nooo….but I wanted to. I think we were both bit shy about our reaction. But I’ve been keeping my eye on him. Sometimes were watching something on TV and there are two girls fighting, and I can see him watching intently. So I know…”
Marianne said, “Yeah, my ex was into it too. So…did you ever think about letting him watch you fight?”
“Ohh…sometimes. I thought, maybe, if the right opportunity came along….but I don’t know. I don’t know any women who would be, you know, interested. At least not anyone I know in real life.”
“Yeah, real life is the kicker, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, it is. Every time I think about what it would be like to actually meet another woman…and to fight her…I get excited, and then I get scared.”
Marianne said, “Perfectly normal. So, you wanna hear about how I got into it?”
Christy giggled, and said, “Oh, you gotta tell me. You gotta!”
Marianne answered, “My introduction was more of real-life thing. Back in college, I was at a frat party, and there was this one chick, a real butch type – ultra-short-hair, cargo pants, and a torn t-shirt, no bra. And the cutie had a set, let me tell you! Had to be grapefruits under there at least. And fricken nipples like walnuts. Now, I’m certainly bi, but I’ve always leaned toward more feminine women. Anyway, we’ve all had our fair share of booze, and this girl takes a shine toward me. I’m curious. So we start talking and she starts touching me, and I’m getting to like it. So we wind up back in her apartment, and she says, ‘hey, you like it rough?’ and I’m stupid enough to say, hey, I’ll give it a try. Meantime, I’m itching to get my hands on those boobs. I love to fill my hands with those things.”
Christy broke in, “Oohh….I don’t have grapefruit, but I have some exquisitely sensitive puppies.”
“Ohh, darling, you’re tickling my desire. Anyway, where was I?”
“You want to get your hands….”
Marianne said, “Oh, yeah. So I say, how rough? And she kisses me, and then slaps the side of my face!”
Christy interjected, “Oh, my!”
Marianne continued, “And I was stunned for a second. It wasn’t hard – I just didn’t expect it. And then she hissed at me, ‘Slap me back!’ and I said ‘what’ and she said, ‘DO IT!’ and I slapped her face, harder than she slapped me. And she said roughly, ‘I get off on this! I like to fight – slap and pull hair and other things’ and I got suddenly super excited. I went all wet, Christy!”
“Oh, God, I would have too. In fact, you’re kinda sorta doing it me right now. You dirty girl!”
Marianne paused, then said in a sneering tone, “Slut!” And then giggled.
Christy said, in what she thought was a seductive tone, “Oooh, baby, keep talking.”
Marianne went on. “And the next thing you know, we’re ripping each other’s clothes off. She pulls off my halter top, and I grab her t-shirt and start yanking, and we fall down to the floor and roll around, just like a catfight vid, and her legs are entwined with mine and my arms are all around her, pulling and slapping, and we’re both cursing and laughing. Now, I don’t want to say it was painless, for those slaps could sting. But I kept giving it to her just as much as she did to me, and we managed get out of our pants and we’re in nothing but panties. We’re pulling each other’s hair and she winds up on top of me, and I grab her breasts, those really big breasts, with big rough nipples, hard as rocks. And my nipples were hard as hell too, and she’s leaning down and her hands are pushing down on my tits, and I feel her crotch hard against mine, and I can feel the cloth sort of squelching, we were both so wet. Her eyes glaze as she rubbing on me, grinding, and I’m moving my hips…”
Her words trailed off, and Christy could hear her breathing coming faster.
“Jesus, Marianne – oh, God you’re making me feel hot!”
“Oh, fuck, Christy…oh the memory of that still gets me going.”
Christy had one hand up under her t-shirt while Marianne was relating her tale. She pinched the stiff nipple and tugged on it.
“Ohh, it is so hot…did you come?”
“Oh hell, we both came so hard. She pushed her pussy hard into mine, and I feel her hair and fat pussy lips on mine, we’re soaked, and she yelled, “FUCK ME YOU cxnt!” and we both screamed and orgasmed. Coming into our panties! Gawd!”
Christy said, her breath starting to get faster, “Oh, damn….you’re making me want to pull off my pants and make myself come!”
Marianne said, “Ohhh, fuck yes….do it, do it!”
There was a shuffling of noise as Christy pulled off her jeans and yanked away her t-shirt. “Oh, God, tell me what you’d do to me if you were here. What we’d do!”
Marianne said roughly, “Oh God yes, we’d fight each other, we’d tear off each other’s clothes and fight! I’d pull your hair and slap you, you bitch!”
“Oh, you whore! You fucking whore!” Christy had two finger busy inside her panties, stroking her clit.
Marianne continued, “And we’d roll around the floor in a catball, and we’d mash our mouths together, chewing on each other’s lips. I’d rake my fingers down your naked back and I’d claw your breasts!”
“OOHhhhhh….fight me you bitch! Fight me…FIGHT ME!” She had her fingers digging deep into her pussy, pulling on them. With one hand, she’d mauled her own breasts, digging her fingers into the flesh.
Marianne panted, “OOhhhh…..we’re fighting, we’re fighting, oh fuckfight me you slut, grind your pussy on mine! Fuck me with your clit!”
At those words, at the lustful images in her mind, Christy came. She cried out and jerked her hips up and down, and came. She felt her juices spurt from her pussy onto her fingers. She heard sudden moans from the speaker.
Marianne moaned in relief and husked, “Ohhhh Christy, I’m a mess…I came over my fingers….oh, so hard!”
Christy said, between breaths, “Ohhhhh…..ohhhh…..me tooo…”
After a minute of breathing, Marianne said, “Ohh, darling Christy….do you need to clean up? I do!”
Christy giggled and said, “Oh, I think so. Give me a few minutes? Cause I don’t want to say good night yet. We’ve got to keep talking.”
Marianne said, “Oh yesss…we definitely do!”
Five minutes later, Christy sat down at her desk. She had quickly cleaned up and now wore a sheer peignoir that came to halfway down past her knees. She was naked under it, and she felt delightfully naughty.
She opened her contacts app and clicked the button. Two rings, then…
“Oh my! We’re back!”
“Oh, hell yes, Marianne! God. I can’t believe what we did. I’m surprised Jim didn’t hear me and come in to see me naked with two fingers up my pussy!”
“Oh, that would have been fun watching you try to explain that to him!”
Christy giggled. “Oh yes.” She paused, then, “That was one intense orgasm. I mean, I love sex, but the feelings that come over me when I think about fighting a woman are on a whole ‘nother level.”
Marianne replied, “Isn’t it, though? After my first, uh, encounter, I spent the next couple of weeks looking at every woman I ran into as a potential opponent. I mean, some of my closer friends who aren’t into it probably wondered why I was staring at them. God, they would have been shocked at what I was thinking.”
Christy said, “Oh no doubt. What gets me is when I dream about it.”
“Oh, tell me. What kind of dreams have you had?”
“One several months sticks in my mind. In my dream, it’s night, and I’m running through the woods, aware that someone was chasing me. At first I didn’t know who it was. All I knew was that I was running. I was wearing this really flimsy white silk gown, and I was naked under it. I could feel my breasts bounce as I ran. The air was cool, and there were low clouds, moving fast, streaming across a full moon.”
Marianne said, “Ooh, honey, this is good!”
Christy continued. “And I felt, well, felt like I wanted to be there, running. And then I turned around when I got to a big meadow, and I saw her, another woman, who looked like me, dressed as me, hair flowing and barefoot and I knew she was equally as naked under the gown. She was chasing me, and I was running from her, and I felt that that she would soon catch me, and I wanted her to catch me. I felt really sexually excited, my breasts were swollen and my nipples so hard, I could feel them rubbing on the silk.”
She paused, feeling the memory of the dream working its magic.
“And she was chasing me, I could hear her voice, calling me, and then there was a whoosh and she tackled me, taking me to the ground, a soft ground, grass, damp from dew. We rolled around the ground for what seemed forever, our bodies plastered to each other. I felt her breasts crush mine, and I slapped at her. She slapped at me, and we pulled each other’s hair, constantly rolling in a ball on the wet grass. Before I knew it our gowns were in tatters and we threw them off and stood up. Without a word we started fighting on our feet, hitting each other, and while I felt each blow, it didn’t hurt so much. We punched and slapped each other, moaning and crying, and then we fell to the ground again, rolling. Finally, at she had me spreadeagle on the ground and she pushed her hips between mine and ground her sex on mine and oh my GOD I knew I was going to come, and then….the dream faded.”
“Oh, no!”
“Marianne, I woke up in bed next to my husband, and I had the sudden urge to wake him and make him take me. I was dripping! But I was too embarrassed. So…I reached down and stroked my clit twice and I came and I think I squirted a little. Oh, I’ve replayed that dream in my head so many times!”
“God, Christy – that is so fucking hot. You described it so well!”
Christy said, “Oh, thank you! I guess one has to be a bit of a creative pornographer to cyber well. I enjoy that. But, I want to get beyond that I guess.”
“Ready for some in-real-life fights?”
“Oh I want to. But I’m scared. I wonder how to approach someone, how to make the arrangements. And keeping boundaries.”
Marianne said, “Oh, that’s vital.”
Christy replied, “And I wonder … if it started. A fight. No matter how you set things up, I wonder what would happen if it went … to far.”
“Too far?”
“Yeah….what if I injured someone?”
“Christy, I think the fact that you worried about that is proof it wouldn’t happen. I’m pretty sure you’d stick to the rules. But … yeah, the idea that things could get out of control is, you know, part of the attraction of this kink.”
Christy asked, “Did uh… you ever worry about that?”
Marianne thought for a second, then slowly, “I don’t believe I ever thought it would happen for real. But I had one fight, my third one, and it came to point that I wondered if I was going to have to knock her out or something. One of my most exciting encounters, but a little scary.”
“Gonna tell me?”
“Okay. Thing was, I met this older woman at one of my ex’s work parties. She was about ten years older than me, and she was little rough around the edges, if you know what I mean. She loved her Scotch, and she loved her Benson & Hedges. Now, I’m willing to admit I’m a bit attracted to those rough edges. Hell, I told you about my first.”
“Oh, that story still makes me hot!”
“Well, me too. Anyway, we got to talking. Her name was Donna, good sized blonde, about 165 maybe, five-foot-five. She was wearing a short skirt and a sleeveless blouse. Oh, she was definitely busty!
“Anyway, we talked some more, and I foolishly mentioned I was into wrestling. She really perked up, and she confessed that she liked to tangle too. And even do some rougher stuff. Well, I was still pretty young back then, and maybe a little too careless. So we agreed to meet at her house that weekend.”
“Oh, go on – this is getting good!”
Marianne continued. “Well, I get there about 1PM. She’s the only one there. And I come in, we have some coffee. She’s dressed in workout clothes, as I am. Shorts, t-shirts. We chat about this and that, and the leads me down to the basement. Christy, it was like a gym down there, all sorts of workout equipment, and a genuine boxing ring, ropes and everything. It was about 15 feet square. So I’m looking this and liking it, and we both hop in the ring and kick off our shoes and socks. We start to circle each other, and then she suddenly rushes at me, hooks her arm around my middle and takes me down. She’s got me pinned.
“So I try to bridge, but she outweighs me by a good 20 pounds, and I tap out. She gets up, helps me up. And she turns to me and says that she likes to fight without so many clothes on. She pulls off her t-shirt, unhooks her bra, and let’s those monster breasts loose. And she looks at me, challenging me. So, I say fuck it to myself, and I pull my t-shirt and bra off. We start to dance around the ring a while.
“And then out of nowhere, she hooks her fist deep into my belly. I gag, fall down to my knees, and start coughing. And I realize we haven’t discussed any rules. Christy, always start out with the rules. Always. I held my hand up, and she sneers at me and says ‘Hey, did you come here to fight, or did you just want to dance, you pussy!’.
“Well, that made me mad. Big mistake. I should have gotten out of the ring and left then and there. But I got mad, and I gathered all my anger and launched myself at her. She stood there and let me swing. I got her a good one, a left hook deep into her right breast. She grunted, backpedaled a little, then clipped my on the jaw. And then the fist fight was one. I had never been in one before, but here are two topless women slugging away. She caught me over the ear, and I punched her a good one in the jaw. We probably dodged a good many of the swings – neither of us was what you call experts. And then … then…she had me backed into the ropes, we’re in clinch and her tits are crushing mine, and I halfway thought this would be erotic if I wasn’t feeling bruised in half-a-dozen places. She’s pressing against me and she whispers, all bitchy-like, that she’s gonna fuck me up and I thought for sure I was gonna be out of the game.
“But then, we heard a noise from upstairs. Her husband came home early. She pulled a little bit away from me, then kissed me hard, her tongue down my throat. She shoved her hand against my crotch, rubbed it hard a couple of times, winked and said ‘to be continued, cupcake’ and quickly got out of the ring.
Christy said, “Oh my God! Was it? Was it?”
Marianne laughed and said, “Oh, hell now. I got out of there. I explained to my husband I took a tumble at the gym, and he may have suspected, but didn’t press the issue. Six months later, she and her husband moved away. I tell you, Christy, that fight was way more violent than I wanted, but it was exciting as hell. And, who knows? I might be tempted yet to do something that radical again. Just to test myself.”
Christy could hear Marianne’s quick breath there, and knew how she felt.
Tempted.
Christy said, “Wow. I don’t know how I’d feel if someone hit me like that. And put their hand on my pussy – but I have to admit hearing it like makes it sound really, really hot.”
Marianne said, “It does feel hot in retrospect, even though technically it’s sexual assault. But this kink is all about shades of grey. A fight starts to become a sexual battle. I mean, a shrink would probably have a field day going through some parts of my mind. But it is what it is. Some combination of early experiences plus a predilection for the edge of the envelope can lead you into areas that in the cold light of day seem very weird.”
Christy didn’t say anything for a minute.
Marianne said softly, “Come out, come out, wherever you are.”
Christy said, “Has it led you to do some things you think you shouldn’t?”
Marianne paused for a moment, then said, “Are you asking how perverted I’ve become? Because… I really enjoy talking with you, and I want to be as open as I can.”
“I guess. Don’t answer if you don’t want to.”
“Well, Christy, my sweet, something happened last year with my older sister.”
“Well, that’s not uncommon. Lots of sisters have fights; I guess even when they’re adults.”
Marianne said, “Not like this fight. Look, are you sure you want to hear this?”
“God, yes! You can’t leave me hanging like this, honey.”
“Well, okay. I have two sisters, one is Kerry and she’s four years older than me. We had fallen out of touch, she was busy raising a couple of kids, and they live out on the west coast.”
“Did you guys fight when you were kids?”
Marianne replied, “No more than most other kids. Occasional slaps. Nothing special. I was always closer to Tracy, my younger sister. I was the middle child. I think Kerry resented some of the attention I got because of my more outgoing personality. I’m extroverted, despite the time I spend on here with perverts like you.”
Christy giggled, and said, “Oh, I do love it though.”
Marianne continued. “Anyway, I think Kerry was a little bit put out when I met my husband. Now, she wasn’t in love with him. It’s more like she thought she was going to be the one who got things right quickest. And when I got Bill, she was resented it a bit. We never were what you would call close sisters. Anyway, I was surprised that she called me out of the blue and said she wanted to come see me. I didn’t say anything for a minute. Finally, she asked if I didn’t want her coming to see me.”
“What did you say?”
“I stammered for a second, I think. I finally said, ‘No, of course, come on out. We’ll catch up.”
“What did you think was her real motive for coming out,” Christy asked.
“That’s what I found out. Let’s just say I didn’t expect it. It still leaves me gobsmacked.”
“Oh, you’ve got me on the edge of my seat,” Christy said.
Marianne paused for a second. Then, “Anyway, she arrived at the airport, and I drove down to pick her up. The plane was one time, she met me in baggage claim. She looked a bit different…a little more haggard than she used to. Her hair was a bit disheveled. She wore an old pair of raggedy jeans, and a tank top. No bra, which surprised me. I mean, you can tell we’re sisters – we have the same color dirty blonde hair, c-cup boobs, wide hips.”
Christy interjected, “Oh, babe, you are indeed getting me interested.”
“Wait. It gets better. It definitely gets more perverse. Anyway, we hug hello. I’m just wearing cut-off jeans and a t-shirt, and sandals. She held onto me for a couple of seconds longer than I thought she would. She says she’s really glad to see me.
“Now that made me wonder. Like I said, we were never really that close, but if she wanted to be warmer, I wasn’t going to argue. Family is important. We chatted for a bit while waiting for her bag, about family and stuff. When we get the bag, we head out to the short-term parking. She’s walking closer to me than I thought she had ever used to. Ever so often, she’d bump my hip with hers, a light touch. This intrigued me, so I contrived to bump her hip with mine in return. This while we’re walking to the car. A hip bump ever so often.”
Christy said, “You think she was trying to start something?”
Marianne laughed, said, “Spoilers!” and Christy giggled.
“Anyway, we talk some more when we’re driving back to my house. We get inside, I show her her room, and then I break out the Boodles and mix us a couple gin & tonics. So we sit on the couch together. Well, I’m sitting on one end, and she’s sort of lying on the other, sipping her drink. She says she’s really feeling good about seeing me, and I say likewise. I get up in a little bit and I mix us another couple of drinks, heavier on the Boodles. I’m starting to feel a little reckless.
“Kerry sipped her G&T for a bit, then said, out of the blue ‘Hey, Marianne, you still wrestling?’ And I about spilled my drink. I recovered after a second, and said, ‘All right….did Tracy blab?’ and she smiled and said, ‘Yeah, she told me you two had gotten snockered one time and you mentioned how you like to wrestle with other chicks’.”
Christy exclaimed, “Oh my God! Did you tell Tracy some of the stuff you told me?”
Marianne laughed, said, “Yeah. She just about heard it all. I told her about discovering I was bi, and all of it. Surprisingly, she was okay with it. In fact, my baby sister was probably a little turned on by it. And now I was getting the same vibe from my older sister.”
Christy said, “Oh, I’ve got to stop interrupting, darling! Please continue…and I might caress myself from time to time….”
Marianne chuckled and said, “Feel free, sweetie….”
Marianne relates:
Things are getting a little warm. I tell her that was true. I tell her I was bi. Does it shock you?
Kerry says, “At first. At first…and it then seemed interesting. I’m intrigued.”
I ask her, “Intrigued? Do you want to try it?”
And all at once I know we had to do it. I’m terribly terribly scared and terribly excited. So very excited.
She pauses for a while, then she sits up, finishes her drink and then surprised me by pulling off her tank top. Her breasts are still firm. Her nipples are hard. And I’m looking at my sister and I suddenly know that we are going to fight. My own nipples stiffen in response. I feel warmth between my thighs. And I know I should be shocked at what I’m feeling. I should be wondering at the kind of perv I’m turning into. But she says, “Yeah, sis. Let’s fight. You and me.”
I stand up and skin off my t-shirt. She sees my breasts, starting to swell with arousal, my nipples are hard nubbins, and she comes over to me and I know we’re going to fight right there in the living room. Fortunately, the rug is thick, and there’s room to dance around. She stands right in front of my, my big sister, and we look eye to eye as we face off. Our breasts seem to move forward of their own volition, and touch, our exquisitely sensitive nipples almost vibrating and I halfway sigh and she halfway moans and we throw our arms around each other and we’re bear hugging, our breasts mashing into each other. We stare into each other’s eyes and our breath is hot and quick.
She whispers, “…fight me fight me fight me, you bitch…” and we rub our breasts hard together, and oh my god our nipples are so hard. We fall to our knees onto the rug and then I say, “…oh you cxnt, you whore….” and she whispers back, “….you slut….”. We roll around on the carpet and then our hands are in each other’s hair and yanking. We roll around, our legs locking together, and she then reaches down and plants one hand between my legs, right on my crotch and she says in a moan, “…get those pants off…” and I say, “get yours off, bitch” and we break apart.
I yank my pants down, pull my panties off while she does the same. We then stand up and look at each other’s naked bodies and I see that her pussy is shaved bare and she sees that mine is too, and we both suddenly know that this is something we had to do, we should have done it long ago, and never had the guts.
I still feel shock registering in the part of my brain that is soaked in the sexual mores of my upbringing, but overriding that is a urgent need to test myself against my sister, to fight her.
She looks at me, and whispers, “I can’t believe we’re going to do this. But I want it so. I want it so badly.”
I move forward a couple of steps. “As do I, Kerry. As do I.”
We are now a foot apart. I see her breasts rise and fall as she breathes. I reach out and put my hands on her shoulders. She does the same to me. We move our legs, trying to gain better footing. Her left leg goes between mine, and my right goes between hers. We feel the velvety smooth texture of our sexes on each other thighs, and I close my eyes. We move our thighs in and out, relishing the feeling.
I look at her, and say, “Do it. Hit me.”
Her face contorts and she lets go of my shoulders and slaps my face, hard, and then gives me a short sharp jab in the belly with her left fist. I gasp and moan, relishing the pain and contact, and I slap my sister hard, and then reach out with my left hand and claw her breast, digging my nails into the yielding flesh. Her legs bend a little, and she winces and I feel her nipple hard against my palm.
And suddenly we are in a flurry, a paroxysm, a wild furious girl fight. We’re slapping each other everywhere and as we fall to the rug, we are a naked incestuous catball. Our legs entwine and we hit each other, crying out, mashing our breasts together and raking each other with rigid nipples. We scratch each other, and our faces go into ugly expressions of both anger and need. We roll around on the floor, scratching each other, grunting with sudden bursts of pain and primitive pleasure.
We find ourselves side by side on the floor, my back jammed against the couch. Her pelvis is right against mine and I feel her heated sex splayed on my pussy. Her face presses hard on mine, and our mouths are open, breath like a furnace, and we bite and kiss each other. Our hands are tangled in each other’s hair, alternately pulling and then running our hands through our tousled tresses.
And then her hand reaches down and her fingers find my soaking sex and she first claws my labia and I gasp and yip and then I feel her two fingers dive in and I buck my hips forward because I want more. She pumps her fingers in and out with one hand and holds my hair with another. I am gushing and I snake my hand down to her pussy and my fingers feel the lava like warmth and liquid they slid in so easily.
My sister and I, two women in their forties, gloriously fingerfuck each other to a screaming orgasm. Our hips jerk and we each gush our juices onto each other’s fingers, crying out again and again and again.
To Be Continued