Sarah and Anne Outside the Club (5/6,FF,Sexfight) The valet took charge of the Bentley as the foursome entered the sedate and rarefied atmosphere of Odell's. They gave their coats and wraps to the coat-check woman. The muted sounds of the jazz quartet could be heard as the headwaiter led them to their table. They were seated at a square table set off in an alcove. Pure white linen covered the table. Sarah and Anne sat at adjacent sides, and the men sat so they faced the other's spouse. A few minutes were taken with drink orders. Anne regarded the surroundings. Diners in other alcoves were visible in the subdued light. The darkness under the tables was almost complete. As she lay her handbag down by the edge of her chair, she surreptitiously undid the straps on her sandals. She let the shoes slide off her bare feet. As if telepathically connected, Sarah did the same thing. The blonde woman nodded to something Clark said, and smiled. She placed her naked foot on the firm carpeting. She edged it to the left. Anne felt the edge of Sarah's foot on her own. She turned to Sarah and smiled. Anne raised her right foot slowly, and placed her toes on the instep of Sarah's foot. She pressed down...softly at first, then with greater pressure. Sarah continued to make small talk as her foot met Anne's in a silent contest. She was about to bring her right foot into play when the drinks arrived. The women brought their feet back to neutral position, under their chairs. After the drinks were delivered, their waiter arrived and gave them the menus and advised them of the specials. After the waiter left, they perused the menu. Sarah quietly moved her foot over to Anne's. She curled her toes downward, lifted her foot, and brought it down swiftly on Anne's instep. Anne almost gasped as she felt the painted nails of Sarah's foot hit her flesh. With remarkable control, she kept her face neutral. She brought her left foot around and used it to push Sarah's foot and its stabbing nails off her tender instep. The two women raised their toes up. Their feet rested on the carpet on the bare heels. Then suddenly, silently, their feet joined under the table, the toes meshing with each other and pressing. Each woman tried for advantage, bending and twisting the digits so that a toe could be squeezed and bent. During this silent war, they looked steadfastly at the menu. Sarah raked her toenails against the top of Anne's feet. Anne used her own deep red nails and stabbed at the sole of Sarah's feet. If anyone could have seen under the table, the feet would have looked like wrestling hands, twisting back and forth within a narrow range. It was a quiet battle, the only sounds being the hushed whisper of skin against skin. The foot fight was interrupted when the waiter came back to take their orders. Both Sarah and Anne ordered the Trout Almandine. Clark asked for a veal chop, while Franklin decided on the Coq au Vin. After the menus were taken away, Sarah and Anne let their feet recover from the beneath-the-table war. The blonde woman was surprised when she heard Clark say, "Say, Franklin, do you mind if I dance with your beautiful wife?" Franklin smiled, and said, "Only if I can dance with your lovely woman." Both women looked flustered for a second, then smiled. They quickly reached down and got their naked feet back into their high-heeled sandals. A quick tug to fasten the straps, and they stood up. Clark extended his broad hand to the petite blonde in the dark red dress. Sarah took his hand and the made their way around the corner to the end of the room where the jazz quartet was playing a slow, smoky swing number. Franklin took Anne's hand, and led the small but gorgeous brunette in the blue dress to the dance floor. There were only a few other couples swaying to the music. The two women danced in the arms of the enemy's husbands. They stole glances at each other as the swirl of the movement brought them into visual range. Sarah saw that Anne had closed the distance between herself and Sarah's husband. You could not fit a piece of paper between the two. In response, Sarah pulled herself closer to Clark. She could feel his muscular chest press against her breasts. And she smiled to herself because despite Clark's efforts to hold his pelvis away, she could feel the stirring of his erection. Anne saw her husband and her rival press close together. She countered by sliding her arm down and around from Franklin's side to the edge of his buttocks. An increased pressure of Franklin's arm rewarded her. The couples continued to dance to the slow music. As they passed each other, whenever they thought they could get away with it, Anne and Sarah stared daggers at each other. They glared their hostility, and knew that this evening could only end in one way. Somehow, they would do real battle. The sexual rage would only intensify to the point that their bodies must meet in urgent sensuous fury. The music ended and the couples on the dance floor applauded lightly. The men thanked the women for the dances, and the women nodded sweetly. The foursome returned to their table. They were deep into their entrees and on a second bottle of Merlot as Sarah tried to think of a way to get away with Anne for an hour or so. They made polite chit-chat about work, books and movies. As the dishes were cleared away from the table, Sarah stood up and said, "Well, I have to make a little trip to the loo, as they say in England. Care to join me, Anne?" The dark-haired woman stood up, and said, "Sure. Powder the old nose and such." The men stood up briefly as they left the table. Franklin turned to Clark and said, "I'm really glad that the women are getting on so well. I think that they could be great friends." Clark sipped his wine and nodded. "Absolutely. We're lucky men. With some women, you'd think that the only thing they would want to do is slip away and get into some kind of fight." The "great friends" made their way to the ladies room. The room was large, quiet, and empty. They got inside, and Sarah turned suddenly to Anne. The blonde woman grabbed Anne's shoulders and brought her face within an inch of Anne's. She hissed, "You know as well as I do that this can end only one way, don't you?" Anne brought her arms up and broke Sarah's grip off her shoulders. She replied, growling, "Damn right I know it. You are the nerviest bitch I've ever met, Beckett. The way you nearly climbed on top of my husband on the dance floor was disgusting!" Sarah curled her lips in a snarl. "What about you, Walker? Were you going to hump Franklin out there until he came in his pants? Was that your idea?" Anne sneered, "Oh, he wanted me, you bitch. I could tell." Sarah raised her voice, "You should have felt the hard-on your man was sporting, slut. It's probably never been that rigid before." "Cunt!" "Candy-ass whore!" Both women drew their arms back and were about to let loose a roundhouse blow when the bathroom door suddenly flew open. They quickly turned to compose themselves. To their shock, they saw Holly Cavanaugh enter the room, followed by her friend Laura Stanton. Holly was dressed in a low-cut emerald green Halston gown. Her pixyish face was merry as she walked over to where Sarah and Anne stood. "Well, hello there, dears! It's so nice to see my girls out and about. Laura, see that we are not disturbed for a few minutes." The busty redheaded woman opened the bathroom door and left. Holly gripped each woman by the upper arm and marched Sarah and Anne back so that their butts were against the rim of the washbasins. She stepped back and pushed with her arms. Sarah and Anne got the message. They moved up and sat on the edge of the sink cabinet. The slits in the skirts opened up, revealing their legs. Holly placed her strong hands on their bare thighs and squeezed. Saran and Anne said, "Hello, Holly," in subdued voices. They didn't look at her. Holly said, "I just came here to tell you something, darlings. The message is this: I don't really mind if a few members have some extra-curricular activities. There is nothing I can do to really stop it." Holly worked her hands up their thighs. She squeezed and rubbed the fine flesh. Holly continued, in her merry voice. "But if you ever do anything that brings The Club to unfavorable attention, I have enough dirt on each of you to guarantee that you and your handsome men would be reduced to poverty and professional disgrace. So a word to the wise, sweeties. Be careful." As she talked, Holly's hands found their unclothed cunts. With consummate skill, she probed and stroked the rapidly moistening pussies. Despite themselves, Sarah and Anne started to breathe heavily under Holly's onslaught. They each started to lean on Holly and their eyes closed with fervent arousal. Holly suddenly pulled her arms back. Sarah and Anne gasped, their eyes swimming. Holly quickly kissed each of them in turn, her mouth warm and wet. She stood back. "I'm sure we'll remember this, ladies. You have a good night, now." Holly turned and left the bathroom. Sarah and Anne stood for a second, as their senses came back to normal. They didn't speak to each other. They went to separate stalls and urinated. They patted themselves dry (and it was more than pee that they wiped away) and came out and washed their hands. Just before they left the bathroom, Sarah turned to Anne and said, "We're still doing it?" Anne nodded. Suddenly a steely determination arose. "Yes. Damn that Cavanaugh bitch, anyway. We're still going to do it."