Sarah and Anne  Outside the Club (3/6,FF,Sexfight)

Anne Walker slowly rose from the massage table.  She
maintained her smile as she moved closer to Sarah,
until their faces were six inches apart.  Anne's
round, dark-nippled breasts were almost touching
Sarah's smaller, conical breasts.  

The petite women faced each other, their arms akimbo. 


Anne said, "So, cunt.  You're here to get pretty for
our date?"  Anne tossed her head, her dark curls
moving up and down.

Sarah replied, "As if I'd get ready for you, bitch." 
She sneered.  "This is solely for the benefit of your
husband.  I'd thought I'd show him what a woman looks
like."

Anne moved forward just a bit.  She could feel her
hard nipples barely graze Sarah's breasts, about an
inch below the blonde woman's nipples.

Anne said, "Clark wouldn't look at you twice.  He's
got something better than a bottle-blonde skank with
the tits of a thirteen-year old and the pussy of a
plastic love doll.  And I bet your husband won't be
able to keep his eyes off me."

Sarah slowly raised her right hand.  Her light blue
eyes narrowed.  Anne, in mirror image, brought her
left hand up.

Sarah growled, as her hand met Anne's in a tight,
finger-interlocked grip, "Franklin wouldn't even fuck
you with someone else's dick.  He's got the real thing
at home."

Anne stared at Sarah as their hands gripped each
other.  They started to press with their shoulders,
pushing at each other.  Their foreheads touched.  As
their one-armed contest continued, their bodies came
into nearly full contact.  Their swollen breasts
merged and pressed against each other.  They shifted
the position of their legs and their thighs slipped
together.  The cloth of their panties whispered
together.

"Oh, you fucking slut-bitch," Sarah said. 

Anne felt the moist exhalation of the blonde woman's
breath.  She pressed forward with her legs and slowly
Sarah backed up, until they came to the edge of the
Sarah's massage table.   Anne continued to push
forward, and brought her other arm up.

Sarah suddenly worked her leg to the back of Anne's,
and pushed.  Anne went down in a sitting position, her
round ass hitting the tile floor with a solid slap. 
She swung her leg rapidly, and Sarah's balance was
upset.  Down she came.

Anne pitched forward from the waist and pushed off
with her legs.  She landed on top of Sarah as the
blonde was struggling to rise from the fall.  Sarah
raised her arm and grabbed a handful of dark curls and
pulled.  

Anne grunted in pain and slammed both her hands down
onto Sarah's naked breasts.  Sarah gasped in shock and
pulled harder and rolled.  She found herself on top of
the dark-haired woman.  Anne spread her legs quickly
and formed a waist-scissors and squeezed.  

Anne panted, "I'll fuck you up, Beckett!  I'll squeeze
you until you explode!"

Sarah got to her knees, with Anne's strong thighs
still clenched around her waist.  The blonde woman
extended her arms and clutched onto Anne's tits.  

Anne almost yelled from the pain.  She was forced to
relinquish her scissors.  She placed her arms between
Sarah's and slowly pried the hands away from her
aching breasts.  Angry red marks indicated the
pressure that Sarah had used.

Just then, both women heard the lock jiggle.  Someone
was coming in.  

Just like two little girls discovered doing something
wrong, they quickly separated and got to their feet. 
They walked unsteadily towards their respective
massage tables and pulled the curtains around them. 
They collapsed face down on the tables as the door
opened.

The two masseuses walked in.   Anne's masseuse came in
and said hello.  Anne's response was a non-committal
grunt.  The masseuse shrugged and went to work.

As the strong fingers dug into Anne's shoulders and
back, trickles of moisture oozed through the thin
weave of her panties and fell on the massage table.

Forty-five minutes later, both women were dressed and
exiting Claudine's.  Sarah was wearing corduroy slacks
and a brown turtleneck.  Both felt half-drugged from
the brief intense encounter and the subsequent
massage.

As Sarah got into her Land Rover, she said, "See you
tonight, bitch.  This isn't finished."

Anne stood by her Lincoln, her hair swirling in the
brisk cold breeze.  "I'll decide when things are
finished, slut.  We'll be ready."

The women drove off in opposite directions.  Along the
way, each of them envisioned tonight's dinner.  Like
opposing generals, they pondered strategy and tactics.