AVON CALLING by
Anonymous
Mary Harper pulled into the driveway of the Scranton House.
She worked the column shift, trying to slip it into neutral
before setting the parking brake. The gears on the ‘49 Buick
ground a bit. Mary winced. She couldn’t afford to have
anything happen to her family’s only transportation.
It was a warm spring day in 1956, and Mary was out trying to
make some money. Her husband was laid up on half-time wages
after an accident down at the plant. It would be at least a
month before he could get back to work. Jim had been upset
when Mary proposed trying to earn a little money selling
cosmetics, but a quick review of the bank balance persuaded
him that it was necessary. They had two hungry toddlers at
home, and a mortgage. The money Mary could earn peddling
Avon would definitely help.
So here was Mary, a pretty young housewife with short brown
hair in soft curls. She was dressed in a light blue skirt
and matching jacket, with a long-sleeved white blouse. She
was slender, and she took a little bit of wicked delight in
wearing a garter belt to hold up her sheer stockings instead
of a panty girdle. Her feet were encased in black high heel
pumps. She wore a necklace of cultured pearls and simple
gold-plated earrings. Her hazel eyes were wide under
carefully plucked brows.
She opened the heavy door on the car and moved her legs to
the side, keeping her knees together. She got out of the car
and turned around to retrieve her sample case, scuffed
pocketbook, and order forms. The sample case was heavy, and
she shifted the strap to her shoulder. There was something
new in the case; something she thought would help cinch some
sales.
Thus burdened, she walked up the neatly trimmed walkway to
the front door of the Scranton House. The home was a
traditional two-story house, much larger than the
two-bedroom place that Mary and Jim shared. The yard was
professionally landscaped. “Well,” she thought, “when you’re
husband is vice-president at the factory, you can afford
something like this.”
Carol Scranton was the richest woman that Mary knew. When
she telephoned to set up a visit, Mary had been nervous.
Carol had a reputation as a vicious harridan who could slice
you up in the weekly teas she had with other feminine movers
and shakers in the area. But it was the money that drew Mary
in. A good sale here would put food on the table.
She rang the doorbell. A moment later, the door swung open,
revealing Carol Scranton. She was a tall woman, impressively
shaped, with hair of purest platinum gathered up in a tight
wave and secured behind her head. She wore a tight black
dress over sheer stockings, and her feet were housed in
expensive spike-heeled pumps that matched her dress. The
dress was long-sleeved, and an expensive diamond bracelet
enclosed the wrist of the hand she now extended to Mary.
”Mary, come in, my dear!” she said in honeyed tones. “And
don’t you look all dressed up today. So very pretty.”
Carol’s sharp blue eyes glittered, and the tip of her pink
tongue could be seen gleaming wetly between her plump
painted lips as she spoke.
Mary said quietly, “Thank you, Mrs. Scranton. It’s nice of
you to see me.” She stepped into the foyer as Carol closed
the door behind them.
”Oh, no, Mary!” Carol said brightly. “Let’s not stand on
ceremony here, my dear. Please, my name is Carol.”
”Well, all right, Carol.” Mary realized that the shield of
formality could not be used in the face of such open
apparent friendliness. She wondered if her judgements about
Carol Scranton were mere prejudices, the product of gossip
and envy. But still…she felt it was wise to be wary.
Carol led the way into the living room, her hips swaying in
the tight dress. Mary, walking behind her, noticed that her
rear end was not encased in a panty girdle. Carol was indeed
a voluptuous woman, quite provocatively shaped for someone
in her mid to late thirties. Even discounting the torpedo
bras of the time, Carol had a massive bosom.
They entered the quiet, well-furnished living room. The
furniture was contemporary, low, and sleek. A current
combination stereo/hi-fi/color console dominated one wall.
Several abstract paintings (all originals, as far as Mary
could tell) were arranged on the walls. An oil painting of
the Scranton clan was over the fireplace, showing Carol,
looking demure for a change, her graying husband, and
Carol’s teen-aged son, safely ensconced now in prep school.
A sterling silver tea service was on the low coffee table.
Carol indicated with a slight movement of her hand for Mary
to sit down. Mary did so, putting her bag and sample case on
the beige carpet beside her low-back chair. Carol sat down
on the turquoise sofa, and made a slight show of tugging the
hem of her dress down to her knees. She didn’t quite make
it. Mary caught a glimpse of white panties and the pink
flesh of Carol’s firm thighs.
”So, Mary, how is your husband doing?”
Mary paused for a second, gathering her thoughts. “Well, the
doctors tell us he should be able to start working again in
a month. It depends on how well the fractures heal. Thank
you for asking.”
Carol said, “Well, that’s good. I’m certain you would love
to get back to your house and take care of children. Tea?”
”Yes, thank you.”
Carol poured the tea into the delicate porcelain cups. Mary
took the little spoon and added a lump of sugar and stirred
it. She took the first tentative sip and murmured, “That’s
quite good.”
Carol smiled a closed-lip smile of slight superiority. “Why,
thank you, my dear. The secret is choosing the right tea and
keeping things scrupulously clean. You certainly couldn’t
just use the Lipton tea bags from the old A & P, could you?”
Mary felt a brief current of unease flash through her. She
shopped at the A & P, as did most of the families in the
neighborhood, and she thought there was nothing wrong with
Lipton tea. But she smiled and nodded.
”So what’s new with Avon these days? Anything exciting?”
Mary put down the teacup and reached for the sample case.
She opened it and pulled out a few golden tubes of lipstick
and various other cosmetics. She launched into her spiel.
”Just this month, Avon has these new shades of lipstick. It
seems that paler colors are the coming thing, and these
lipsticks match the colors being seen in Paris and London.”
Carol frowned, pursing her lips. “I prefer more vibrant
colors.”
”Well, we still do have those bold shades, plus a few more.
We also have some new foundations, and longer-lasting
mascara.” As she spoke, Mary pulled items out of the sample
case and laid them on the table.
Carol put her teacup down and leaned forward, thrusting her
impressive breasts frontward. The black dress had a scoop
neckline, and a slice of cleavage became well-defined as the
breasts became compressed. She idly picked up some of the
lipsticks, and then put them down. She looked up at Mary,
and said, “Isn’t there anything that’s suited for women of
my tastes? I mean, I’m not some stay-at-home housewife with
a couple of brats hanging around her ankles. I have social
obligations to attend.”
Mary bridled inwardly. This snotty bitch was going to be
difficult. Easy, she told herself. This is a customer. Easy.
Mary smiled, but her eyes were neutral. “Avon does a have a
line of more expensive cosmetics, including some cologne
that has been well received. I don’t have them here, but
this catalogue has a detailed description of everything, and
I would be happy to get some samples from the main office.”
Carol made a dismissing gesture with her hands. “Oh, I could
always go into Manhattan and check the latest perfumes. I
guess you don’t get much of a chance to do that, do you?”
Mary said evenly, “No, I guess I don’t.”
Carol said, “You know, I just thought of something you
should know. My husband’s firm is looking at purchasing that
company where your husband works.”
Mary nodded. She knew that the factory where Jim worked was
ailing financially. But Jim was a skilled tool and die man,
and he felt confident that there would always be a place for
him there, no matter who owned it.
Carol said, “It looks pretty definite. You know, the right
word from me could mean things for you and your husband. It
could mean big things.”
Mary was instantly wary. What was going on here? “I’m not
exactly sure what you’re getting at, Carol.”
”I’ve had my eye on you, Mary,” Carol said. “For a while
now, I’ve had my eye on you and some of the other women in
this neighborhood.” Carol looked steadily at Mary, her eyes
a bit hooded.
What was that look? It was a challenging stare, and perhaps
a bit dangerous. Mary felt herself on very thin ice. The
implication was that the wrong word from Carol could do
serious damage to her family.
Carol leaned back. She said, “I went to college at Smith.
It’s a girl’s school. A marvellous education, in many ways.”
She closed her eyes, and briefly licked her lips with a tiny
pink tongue. “I learned many things there, and I developed
some, shall we say avant-garde tastes.”
Mary matched Carol’s posture. She leaned back in her chair
and said, “I presume you’re not talking about cosmetics. Or
music. Or books.”
Carol laughed. “Oh, you might say that the area was sports.”
”I see.” Mary started taking the samples off the table and
putting them back in the case. She finished that, and said,
in a frigid tone, “I think we’re done here, Mrs. Scranton. I
don’t care where you went to school, or what you learned
there, or what your husband buys. I particularly don’t care
about whatever perversions you cooked up with other snooty
bitches at Smith.”
She delivered the last in a deadly monotone, as Carol sat on
her expensive sofa and listened, an enigmatic half-smile on
her face. She then stood up and said softly, “Oh well, my
dear, just forget it, then. No harm done. Here, let me see
you out.”
Mary nodded. Carol led the way slowly, and Mary followed, a
couple of steps behind. As they got to the front door, Carol
paused, her hand on the doorknob. Mary waited her face
wooden. Inside she was seething. How dare this rich bitch
try something like this? How could she try this perverse
seduction, when here she was trying to put food on her
table?
Carol said, in stinging harsh tones, “You know, you are a
silly excuse for a woman, going out in that pathetic old
car, dressed in what you laughingly call your finest,
peddling your cheap cosmetics door-to-door. Just so you can
get another pound or two of hamburger to feed your broken
man and your squalling brats.”
Mary gasped, “You goddamn bitch! How dare you? I ought
to…ought to….” She had half-raised her hand.”
”Ought to what? Do you think you can fight me? You are a
pitiful little girl. Go ahead! You don’t have the guts! The
woman hasn’t been born that can beat me! Go ahead, you
little bitch!”
Mary dropped her sample case on the floor, followed by her
pocketbook. She stood there a second, mouth open in shock.
Anger surged through her, anger accompanied by a dangerous
emotion she dared not name. She yelled, “Oh, FUCK YOU!” and
suddenly her hands were tangled in Carol’s fine platinum
hair, pulling it sharply. She twisted her away from the
door.
Carol screamed back, “OH, YEAH! I’M GOING TO HURT YOU, YOU
FUCKING CUNT!” Carol’s hands struck forward and entangled
themselves in Mary’s brown curls, and the women started
screaming incoherent snatches of venom.
They tumbled to the carpeted floor like female wildcats,
Carol falling on top of Mary. The fight was on. As Mary fell
to the carpeted floor of the foyer, her legs flew open, and
she heard her skirt rip along the slit. The hem of the skirt
rucked itself up around to the middle of her thighs, and
Carol’s heavy leg fell between her legs. Her crotch was
suddenly slammed with the muscular weight of Carol’s thigh.
”Ummph!” she cried. She twisted her hand into Carol’s fine
blonde hair and pulled. Carol yelled and tried to pull
herself up, slapping a hand down on Mary’s wrist to wrestle
it away from her hair.
The clip that held Carol’s hair slipped off, and Carol was
able to twist her head away. She pulled herself halfway up
and slapped Mary hard in the face, a stinging blow. The pain
enraged Mary. She swung her right hand up and caught Carol
on the jaw, a solid connection. Carol’s head snapped back.
Mary quickly scrambled out from under the voluptuous blonde
woman and quickly pulled herself to her feet. Carol put a
hand down on the rug, and hoisted herself up to one knee.
She raised her face to Mary, and Mary was shocked to see a
grin on that face. She was enjoying this!
Through the sudden anger that had descended like a red haze
over her consciousness, Mary realized that the sudden kick
of adrenaline had energized her, and made her feel edgy and
quick. She felt the drive to crush this woman who had the
audacity to insult her and her family, to rend and tear her
clothes and make her submit. She wanted that blonde bitch
underneath her, and she was determined to follow through.
And that honest corner of her mind also realized that she
wanted this. Mary bent down her head and charged, extending
her arms like claws. As she hit Carol’s midsection with her
head, she grabbed onto Carol’s arms, and barrelled her
backwards.
”Oooooffff!” Carol sharply uttered. She was propelled
backwards into the living room, her legs furiously back-pedalling
in their high heels. She landed on her back, butt skidding a
bit, and Mary landed on top of her. Carol’s legs were bumped
apart, the tight skirt suddenly splitting with a tear, and
Mary’s hips fell between those powerful thighs. Carol
suddenly wrapped her arms around Mary’s torso, twisting the
blue jacket. She squeezed her arms together, grunting.
Mary’s middle was in-between Carol’s legs, and she tried to
raise herself up on her arms. This caused her pelvic region
to scrape along the front of Carol’s panties. Mary noted
that her crotch was now firmly placed in contact with
Carol’s. She strained against Carol’s strong bearhug, her
own hands trying to crush the blonde’s arms. Mary brought
her upper body down sharply. Her breasts slammed down onto
Carol’s large bosom, and Carol gasped in shock. Mary felt a
small hot needle of triumph. She raised her body again, and
pushed it down, again trying to pound Carol’s large heavy
breasts with her own smaller orbs. They were firmer, and
Carol made several gasping whoops as Mary beat her chest up
and down.
Carol finally released her tight embrace. Before Mary could
lower her tits down again, Carol reached up and pressed her
hands onto Mary’s breasts and started to squeeze them.
Mary felt the sharp pain in her breasts, and her eyes
started to water. The rubbing of the bra on her nipples
started to stiffen them, and the erect nipples were
exquisitely tender. Okay, two could play at that game. She
tried to ignore the sharp pain in her breasts, and bent her
fingers into claws. She swiftly hooked her hands onto
Carol’s large breasts and started to maul them.
”Oh, you goddamn cunt! You fucking slut!” Carol raged,
spittle flying up from her mouth.
The women continued their mutual breast mangling, with waves
of pain emanating from their boobs. Mary tried again to
raise herself up, and succeeded only in grinding her
panty-covered crotch into Carol’s mound. The two women’s
eyes met, Mary looking down at Carol as they continued to
squeeze and mangle one another’s breasts. Their faces were
contorted with anger, lips curled back against their white
teeth, eyes narrowed in fierce primal malevolence.
A part of Mary’s mind wondered at it all. Here she was,
locked in this absurd battle with a neighbor, a god damned
catfight, for Christ’s sake, in 1956. In the fucking
suburbs! This was Eisenhower’s America. Such things did not
happen here. But another wave of pain from her tender
breasts brought her back to reality. This snobby disgusting
bitch was trying to tear her a new one. The only thing she
could do was fight back. With an extra impetus of anger, she
rolled off Carol and to the side. She whimpered briefly and
she lifted her hands to her wounded breasts. Carol’s hand
fell away and she brought them to her own tender orbs,
making irregular moans. Both women lay on their back for
about fifteen seconds, aching, as they tried to gather their
strength. Mary tried to rise to a sitting position. She
thought if she could get to her feet, she might be able to
get to the door and get the hell out of here. But it wasn’t
to be. Carol said, huskily, “Oh, you are the perfect
playmate, you are. I’m going to enjoy this!”
She rolled quickly to her side and clamped her arm against
Mary’s torso, the forearm slamming into her chest just over
the breasts. Mary found herself falling backwards onto the
carpet again. Carol quickly hooked her right leg over and
worked it between Mary’s legs. Her skirt was raised almost
all the way up, revealing the bare flesh between her
stockings and panties. Mary tried to work her arms under
Carol’s, tearing at the sleeve. But Carol had raised herself
up partway and her upper body added to the weight. Plus,
something new had been added to the equation.
Mary’s eyes went wide with surprise. Carol had worked her
other hand down between her legs. Carol moved her own leg
out of the way, just enough for her strong fingers to
suddenly start rubbing Mary’s panty-clad pussy with strong,
knowing strokes. Mary turned her head to Carol’s, her mouth
open in a silent amazed question. Carol looked at her, her
eyes starting to swim with catfight lust, and she continued
the intimate questing rough caress. Mary squawked and tried
to get away. Carol’s strong arm and legs held her fast. She
was helpless for the moment, and she twisted around as much
as she could. She was able to get her left hand over to
Carol’s hair and she started to pull. Carol turned her head
to ease the pressure, but she kept up her lewd poking and
rubbing of Mary’s mound.
Then Mary felt Carol’s finger go even further. Carol worked
one sharp-nailed index finger beneath the crotch of the
panties, and Mary felt the digit slide along her hairy
vulva. Then, to her horror, the finger found her clit! She
couldn’t help herself. Pinned like this, her own hands
ineffectual, she found that Carol’s hand was getting a
response. She felt her pussy moisten, the labial lips start
to swell and soften. The sheath of her clitoris started to
lengthen under Carol’s expert handiwork.
She took a deep breath and screamed, “Oh, you fucking dyke!
You goddamn lesbo CUNT! What the HELL do you THINK you’re
DOING?!”
Carol turned her head to Mary, Mary’s hand still embedded in
the fine blonde hair. She smiled an evil smile. “Don’t come
off so high and prissy, you stupid bitch. I know what the
fuck you are. You’re starting to gush like a whore, cunt.
You’re not so god damned innocent. Right?”
Carol’s twisted grin penetrated to Mary’s gut. Oh, god, how
could she know?
It came back like a flood of sensation. When she was twenty,
Mary had lived in New York, in Greenwich Village. She had
dropped out of college, and for a while, out of rebellion
and boredom, she got caught up in the bohemian lifestyle of
the beats. And she did things she had never done
before…until now. A lesbian introduced her to the deviant
subculture of girl/girl fetishes. Under the influence of
beer and marijuana, Mary had discovered the unique carnal
sensations afforded in the catfight and sexfight. Under the
mercurial ministrations of dark-haired Arial, she had fought
and scratched and made rough Sapphic love, grinding her
young cunt into the hairy turgid pussy of the older woman.
But that had ended. She went back to school; her rebellion
ended, and had met her husband to be. After that was the
easy and placid life of a Long Island young housewife, who
had ceased to think about the libidinous erotic warfare of
another time and place.
Until now. Carol continued her rough fingering of Mary’s
pussy. Mary started to vocalize as the twisting fingers
probed her sex. She was, despite herself, becoming aroused.
”Uh…ohh…bitch….fucking bitch!”
Carol moved her face close Mary’s. She stared intently down
at Mary’s wide eyes, which started to swim a bit. She said,
in low tones, “Got a proposition for you, Mistress
Mary…quite contrary. Got a dirty little deal for you.”
Mary grunted, tried ineffectually to move Carol off of her.
She was starting to move her hips involuntarily, her body
betraying itself.
”W-what are y-you talking about…?” she stuttered.
”You know what’s going on here,” Carol husked. “Do it with
me…sexfight…my cunt against yours. First to come loses. If I
lose, I’ll write you a check for $200.00.”
The mention of the money penetrated the haze that the
aggressive finger-fucking induced. She stared at Carol. “And
if I l-l-lose…”
”Then you will answer to me. You’ll be my pet and my slave,
three mornings a week for the next month. And, oh, the
things you will do for me…”
”Sick perverted cunt! Fuck you!”
Carol quickly leaned her face in and kissed Mary, a bruising
painful rub. She nipped the lips a bit with her teeth as
Mary pulled her face away.
”Is that a no?” Carol leaned her arm down across Mary’s
chest, and pulled the crotch of her panties down. She stuck
two fingers up Mary’s wet vagina.”
Mary took all of two seconds. “No, goddamn you! I’ll do it.
But you’ll fucking well write the check first!”
Carol looked down, stuck the fingers up to the root and held
them there. Mary gasped. Carol slowly pulled her slick
fingers out of Mary’s cunt. She sniffed them, and then
licked them.
”Okay. Get back into the bedroom and strip. I’ll make out
the check.” She held her fingers coated with Mary’s
secretions under Mary’s nose for a second. Then she placed
both her hands on Mary’s breasts and pushed herself upwards.
Mary grunted from the sudden flattening of her breasts.
Mary got to her feet, tottering a bit on the high heels. She
saw Carol disappear into another room off the living room.
She unsteadily walked back to the foyer, got her heavy bag,
and proceeded down the dim hallway to the master bedroom.
Inside she put the bag down by the door. She kicked off her
high heels, and then slowly, methodically, began to undress.
She took off her jacket. Why am I doing this? She pulled her
blouse up from her skirt, and began to unbutton it. For the
money! She finished unbuttoning the blouse and pulled it
off, dropping it on the floor. But what if I lose? I could
easily lose, despite the tricks I learned from that beatnik
girl. The skirt was next. She undid the catch, and then
pushed it down past her hips to drop in a shapeless heap
about her stocking feet. Oh, God! Two hundred dollars! That
would feed us for more than a month!
She reached behind her and unhooked her plain white bra. She
slipped the shoulder straps down and pulled it away from her
chest. Her medium size breasts bounced a bit as they were
freed, the pink nipples hardening in the sudden coolness.
Oh, Christ, I want this to happen! I want to beat her. I
want to make her pay! I’ll fuck her up! She unhooked the
snaps from her stockings, and then peeled them down her
legs. She pushed the garter belt down just as Carol came
back into the room. She was holding a check printed on green
paper.
Carol looked at Mary, naked except for the plain white
cotton briefs. Her eyes glittered at the thought of the
sexfight to occur.
”Oh, don’t you just look luscious, darling! We’re going to
have a party, aren’t we, sweetie?”
Mary decided it would be best to appear submissive and
downcast. Get her to underestimate me, she thought.
”Whatever you say…”
Carol said, “Oh, don’t look so bedraggled, my poor little
slave. I won’t hurt you…much.”
Carol hummed to herself as she undid the zipper at the back
of her dress and pulled the long sleeves off. After the
dress came off her top, she let it rest on her hips while
she undid the bra that encased her large breasts. They
bounced down a bit, and the large brownish nipples
stiffened. They were surrounded by two-inch areolae, a
bulls-eye in a blue-veined fleshy globe.
Mary watched while Carol pushed her dress down past her hips
to puddle about her feet. Carol then slipped off her
high-heels and unsnapped her stockings. They were expertly
rolled down and now Carol was dressed in panties only, just
as Mary was. Each woman kept a steady gaze on the other as
they deliberately pushed their panties down their legs and
then stood up before each, egg-naked.
Mary’s bush was soft and light brown and untrimmed. It was
thick, but the lips were visible because Carol’s earlier
finger-fucking had spread them apart. Carol’s pubic thatch
was a rough dirty-blonde, clipped short to reveal the plump
labia and the moist cleft. She had a large clitoris, the
shaft easily two inches long, with a pink head that stuck
out a quarter-inch.
The two women regarded each for other for perhaps a minute.
Mary was estimating her opponent. Carol had twenty pounds on
her, but she was a couple of inches taller than the platinum
vixen. It would be a question of weight versus leverage.
The bedroom had a large queen-size bed with a dark maple
headboard. The room was fairly large, with ample light
coming in through a large window in the wall opposite the
door. Matching maple dressers and nightstands completed the
furnishings. A door on Mary’s left led the bathroom. Mary
caught a glimpse of her naked body in the mirror over the
dresser. She saw an unguarded woman with a stone face,
crouching slightly, and waiting for an opportunity. She saw
that Carol was on the balls of her feet, breasts swaying as
she moved slightly.
Mary felt an anticipatory buzz. She recognized the feeling
from her past battles with the dark-haired lesbian beatnik,
the knowledge that she would soon pit her body and skills
against another woman, to beat her physically and sexually.
Carol took a step closer. Mary matched her. Their arms
stretched out, fingers moving in clawing motions.
With a sharp cry, Mary leapt forward. Her hands found
purchase on Carol’s upper arms. Carol was taken by surprise.
She stumbled backwards, and her legs hit the foot of her
bed. Mary pressed the advantage, pushing forward with her
strong legs. Carol found herself with her back on the plain
thin bedspread, and Mary leaned forward. Carol pushed back
with her arms. Mary suddenly lifted her knee, pushing it
in-between Carol’s legs. The knee hit Carol’s crotch
squarely, smacking the labial tissue and catching the
sensitive clitoris. Carol screamed. She grabbed Mary’s
forearms and twisted to the left. Yelping, Mary found
herself beside Carol on the bed, both women facing each
other on their side.
Mary pushed herself further back on the bed, hands still
digging into Carol’s arms. Carol followed and both women
were solidly on the bed now, the covers wrinkled from the
chaotic movement. Mary tried to use the leverage of her
longer arms and legs to swing over on top of Carol. Carol,
still stinging from the impact of Mary’s knee to her pussy,
groaned and pushed strongly with her arms. They remained at
impasse for nearly thirty seconds, Mary trying to raise
herself over Carol, and Carol pushing back. Their eyes were
wide and they panted with effort. Sweat broke out on both of
their faces. They made whimpering sounds as their exertion
continued. Mary’s legs had spread apart with her movements,
and Carol saw an opportunity. She raised her left thigh
sharply.
”Ooooffff!” Mary cried, as the meaty flesh of Carol’s thigh
slammed into her crotch. But instead of Carol pulling back
and hitting it again, she started to move her leg up and
down. The smooth skin rubbed along Mary’s pussy, and she
felt the beginnings of arousal. The bodily memory of Carol’s
earlier finger assault came back, and her traitorous
genitals responded. In no time at all, moisture started to
seep from her slit and lubricate the muscular flesh of
Carol’s leg. Mary felt the labia swell and her clitoris
lengthen.
”I’ll win it any way I can, Mistress Mary,” Carol breathed.
“I’ll fuck you up or I’ll fuck you down, but I’ll fuck you
for sure.”
Mary said, “No fucking way!” and released Carol’s arms. She
flung herself back.
Carol triumphantly cackled. “Oh, I’ve got you now. You are
such a hot slut that you’ll come from a harsh look, won’t
you? You want this, you sad little bitch. You want me to
win, because you know I’m your better!”
Carol sat up and quickly launched herself on top of Mary,
who was on her back, trying to raise herself up on one arm.
The blonde woman’s voluptuous body crashed on Mary’s, and
Mary found her head hanging off the foot of the bed as Carol
quickly positioned herself. Carol went for much the same
position she had in the living room. She held her left arm
across Mary’s chest, hand splayed across Mary’s right
breast. Her right leg kept Mary’s legs spread apart, and she
vigorously started to finger-fuck Mary’s vagina with her
right hand.
Mary felt helpless under the greater weight of her opponent.
She tried to lift her upper body, raising her head. Carol
crooned in her ear, “…oh, it won’t be long now, sweetie…I’ve
got my fingers up your cunt, and, ohhhh, it’s sooo wet and
hot….oh what do we have here? …its Mistress Mary’s little
clit…how do you like =this=…and =this=…just relax and let it
happen…oh you are such a hot slutty cunt…”
Carol twisted her two fingers in and out of Mary’s vagina,
which was pumping a copious stream of sexual fluids, slick
and hot, around Carol’s expert fingers. Carol worked the
digits around and up, pressing on the anterior wall of the
vaginal interior.
”Ohh….Ah…JESUS! UHHGGHH!” Mary panted, her hips now
swivelling with the violent fingering. Tears escaped Mary’s
closed eyes. Her body was betraying her. Her cunt had a mind
of its own, knowing only the rough raw ecstatic beat of
oncoming orgasm. Mary saw herself, knew she was close…knew
it was going to happen….
”No…NO!” she shouted. “I won’t fucking lose to you, you
goddamn bitch!”
Ignoring the mounting climax in her lower body, she grabbed
Carol’s fine platinum hair with her right fist. She dug her
fingers in and yanked her head back as Mary brought her own
head quickly forward. Mary’s forehead crashed into Carol’s
chin. Carol had had her mouth slightly apart and her wet
tongue extended. The impact caused her mouth to snap shut
and her teeth to clamp painfully down on her tongue.
”Owwww!” she yelled, and a spurt of blood escaped her mouth
and the ragged laceration she had just bitten into her
tongue. She forgot all about Mary for a second. Much to her
forthcoming sorrow.
Mary worked an arm under Carol’s neck and pushed. She also
scooted backwards, propelled by her feet on the bed. She
held onto Mary’s hair with her hand as she fell onto the
floor. Carol had no choice but to go along with her or lose
a handful of hair. With a shot of adrenaline, she pulled
Carol down onto the floor and flung her on her back. Mary
grabbed Carol’s ankles and spread them apart like splitting
a wishbone on a chicken. Carol’s legs were opened wide, her
pussy lips opening like a door to reveal a pink dark hole
and a shiny pearl.
Carol had been stunned by the sudden turn of events. Her
impact on the floor had knocked the breath out of her, and
she was powerless to do anything. Her tongue ached and she
tasted the salty heat of her own blood.
Mary shouted, “I’M GONNA FUCK YOU, YOU SLIMY CUNT!”
She jumped forward and landed on top of Carol. Carol’s
breasts mushroomed out as Mary’s firmer globes flattened
them. Mary’s stiff little nipples poked the tender breast
flesh. But it was what Mary did with her legs that really
counted. Something that she had learned from the lusty
catfighting lesbian in Greenwich Village. She hooked her
legs around Carol’s and had her locked in a grapevine pin.
The hold was perfect. Mary fixed her lower legs and ankles
around Carol’s and pressed down. Carol could not break the
hold…any attempt to do so caused acute pain in the legs.
Mary started to fuck Carol. She pushed her hips forward,
buttocks contracting with effort. Mary’s hairy swollen pussy
hit Carol’s. Carol’s labia spread apart, and the long stiff
shaft of her clitoris came into direct contact with Mary’s
clit. The direct clit-to-clit contact had its affect on both
women. Carol twisted her head back and yelled in rage and
frustration…and sexual heat. She found her pussy instantly
wet and throbbing. Mary fought her own battle with her
sensations. I will do this, she thought. I will fuck her and
she will come first…I will beat this bitch…I will win!
Mary started a slow deliberate fucking. Her hips would rise
and descend, and her cunt would hit Carol’s, and she would
feel the rough trimmed hairs of Carol’s pussy tangle with
her own lush growth. She would feel the hot swollen tissue
rub together as she ground her cunt into Carol’s sex. She
would feel her stiff clitoris slid along Carol’s, their
heads bumping together and sending sparks of wanton lust
along her torso.
All along, she kept the grapevine pin, and Carol was
helpless to do anything. Mary looked down, saw Carol’s eyes
starting to glaze over with the oncoming orgasm. A trickle
of blood from the damaged tongue ran from one corner of her
mouth. Mary moved her face down, her lips coming close to
Carol’s. She increased the tempo of her hips and said
quietly, “Oh, I’m going to kiss you now, my blonde bitch…I’m
going to kiss you and stick my tongue in your mouth while
you come…”
Carol felt Mary’s mouth plaster onto hers and Mary’s hot
stabbing tongue invade her mouth. This was the final
assault. Mary slammed her hips down and held them there,
swivelling her pelvis and abrading her cunt. Their clits
found each other and tangled, and Mary tasted Carol’s blood.
Carol screamed into Mary’s open mouth as her orgasm took
her. Carol’s arms found themselves embracing Mary. Her cunt
spilled a stream of fluid as shocks and explosions rippled
through her. Mary lifted her head to look in Carol’s wild
eyes as she came. She saw the wild lust and the sudden pain
in Carol’s eyes as her turncoat body released itself in
wanton animalistic climax. Carol’s hips bucked upwards from
the floor as the orgasm shook her, and her cries of lust
became cries of humiliation.
Mary looked down. One more thing to do. She sat up quickly,
straddling Carol’s shaking body. Her large bag was just
within arm’s reach. She took it and reached in and pulled
out the heavy instrument. A few deft motions were all it
took. She positioned the device so it would only hit what it
was aimed at. Mary then moved her hips forward, walking on
her knees until her cunt rested against Carol’s chin.
”Lick me, you bitch! Eat me until I come.” To emphasize her
words, she reached down with her left hand, and twisted an
ear.
”OWWW!…oh, GOD….OH!”
Carol knew she was whipped. With her eyes still closed and
leaking tears, she moved her face a bit forward, and started
to energetically lick Mary’s pussy. Mary threw her head back
and whooped with delight. As Carol ate her out, she adjusted
the position of the instrument in her right hand. It was
close. Mary wanted to trigger the device when she came. She
slid her hips back and forth, smearing her wet cunt over
Carol’s chin and lips. Close…closer.
”Now! Stick you’re tongue up my cunt!”
Carol did so, extending her pink tongue out and up. Mary
felt it penetrate her vagina. She howled. Now.
As the orgasm hit Mary, she triggered the switch on the
Polaroid. There was a flash and the camera captured Carol’s
face with her tongue diligently servicing Mary.
Mary laid the camera on the floor and let the sheer
libidinous pleasure of the climax wash over her. She sat on
Carol’s face, releasing a deluge of climactic juices into
the blonde’s mouth. Her hips shook with release and she
yipped with sheer delight. Her orgasm complete, Mary moved
her hips dreamily, smearing the slick fluids onto Carol’s
face. She then looked down at her defeated foe. “Bitch,” she
said. She got up. Carol rolled on her side and hid her face
in her hands. She looked pathetic, Mary thought.
It had been the right amount of time. Mary picked up the
camera and pulled the tab. The exposed film was pulled out.
She waited the full minute, looking down at Carol. She then
peeled apart the picture. She tossed the negative on the
floor. She looked at the positive. She grinned. She stooped
down on the carpet beside Carol. She took Carol’s shoulder
and pulled her onto her back. Carol brought her hands down
from her face, revealing tear streaks and ruined mascara.
Mary waved the picture in front of Carol’s face. Carol saw
the evidence of her humiliation, in the small black and
white picture. There was her face, her tongue up Mary’s
vagina. Quite recognizable.
Mary said, “Just so we understand each other. I take this,
and the check. I ever hear anything about this again, from
anywhere, copies of this will go where they’ll do the most
good. Like your husband’s partners. You’ll be ruined. Get
me?”
Carol nodded. She then turned her head away again.
Mary found her clothes and quickly got dressed. In a few
minutes, she was ready to go. She left Carol Scranton in her
bedroom, naked, humbled, and bruised. As she drove away,
Mary decided to quit selling Avon. Everything after this
would be anti-climatic.
THE END