Beachhouse Bitch Brawl by Damon

It was not how Anita envisioned herself checking out of this life. The petite yet stunning college freshman grasped futilely at her attacker’s wrists as her hot little classmate Teresa kept choking the life out of her foe with nothing save her bare hands. The Cherokee beauty staggered in the living room of the small beach house, dark eyes closed and lush red mouth

gasping for breath even as a pair of purple-clawed, alabaster thumbs stabbed ever deeper into her copper-colored throat.

Teri’s own dark eyes were ablaze with determination, her white teeth grinding together with effort as she began to shake Nita back and forth in the dimly-lit parlor, glossy wooden furniture strewn about the edges of a worn green carpet. The Cherokee’s long, luxurious dark hair swept over her shoulders and down her back, almost down to her tight little ass, Her lovely Italian-American opponent’s equally-long raven locks were also splayed

across her neck and back, whipping about as she strangled the siren in front of her. Teri had waited almost an entire year for this, ever since the two women had met during their first week of college, and she hoped to prolong the agony before doing Nita in ....

They were supposed to have been roommates, but that had gotten shot down in a matter of days as the two beauties had taken an instant dislike to one another. Probably because each woman instantly saw the other as a rival, a threat, a someone who could make four years miserable with constant, unending competition. Both were gorgeous despite standing only five feet tall and some ninety pounds, but both were possessed of shapely legs and ample breasts, not to mention the aforementioned tight cheeks. Both also enjoyed catfighting - immensely - and both were brutally skilled at it. They fought all through freshman year against other girls, racking up win after win, but had yet to face off until now, each not wanting to have to live down the indignity of defeat on campus had she lost, but after

meeting up at yesterday’s party down the shore, just one month after school had let out for summer, they both knew that they had to settle things once and for all. The beach house belonged to Nita’s family, was situated at the end of the block in front of a small wooden pier with one old motorboat. After last night’s revelers had scattered, Teresa had made her way back to challenge her rival to the knock-down, drag-out, no holds barred encounter they had both been seeking.

“Alright, Anita, let’s get this over with!” snapped Teresa as she came through the front screen door wearing black sandals, a pair of tight yet frayed powder-blue jeans shorts, and an even tighter-fitting, well-worn white T-shirt that highlighted her rock-hard nipples and curvy bosom. Nita sat there cross-legged on the calico couch at the far end of the living

room, barefoot and dressed only in a silky red bikini that had to be at least one size too small for her, the way it rode up into her crack and squeezed about her breasts. The bedrooms and bathroom were off to Teresa’s left through a small doorway, while the kitchen, adorned in white and leading to the back stairs, was off to the right, past a small table and four chairs.

“By all means,” sneered the Native American knock-out as she rose to her feet and strode towards her hated rival. Teresa tossed aside her small handbag and kicked off her sandals before she, too, began to make her way towards her enemy. They came to within a two feet of one another in the middle of the room before they being circling nervously, the air thick with trepidation as fantasies, thoughts and desires were about to give way to full-fledged, physical, painful reality. They continued to shuffle back and forth, neither willing to commit to combat, as they began to insult one another.

“Nice bikini, dear,” chided Teri. “Looks like you’ve gotten a little too fat for it, though - guess it must be the ‘Freshman 50’, you fucking little bitch!”

“The term is voluptuous, hon,” cooed Nita facetiously. “And at least I don't look like a fucking piece of trailer trash! How the hell did you even get accepted to our school, or are you on some kind of cocksucking scholarship for little sluts, you fucking cunt?”

The next sound was not a spoken word, but a crack like a rifle shot as Teresa hauled off and slapped Anita hard across the cheek, that last insult pushing the Caucasian beauty’s blood past the boiling point. The Cherokee responded with an angry backhanded slap of her own, and seconds later both women were tearing away at one another, nails scratching into soft flesh and fingers entangling into long black hair and pulling hard. The tension had

been broken, the die had indeed been cast, and the long-awaited fight to the finish was on, each woman determined to win ...

Nita slashed away at Teri’s white top with her glossy red nails, stretching and clawing at the thin cotton material until it shredded apart and exposed Teresa’s shapely globes. Teri returned the favor as her purple claws ripped away at Nita’s shimmering bikini top, its neck strands finally snapping apart and the top falling away as Nita’s copper-colored melons bounced free. Now they began to slap and scratch at each other’s faces, hair and

shoulders, nails making long red marks in each other’s soft creamy skin as the sounds of flesh slapping upon flesh reverberated about the room along with the grunts, groans and curses of the two combatants.

Nita uncorked a right that smashed into Teri’s cute little nose, mashing it down and drawing a slight trickle of blood, as the Cherokee attacked her opponent’s pants, grasping the front of Teresa’s jeans shorts and wrenching them apart in her bare hands Teresa cried out and grabbed at Anita’s hands and wrists, but she was too late. Screams mixed with the sounds of buttons popping and denim tearing until Nita ripped the entire garment away to

reveal a pair of silky black panties ensconcing Teresa’s crotch, thighs and cheeks.

Both beauties were now topless and decked out only in tight panties, and the catfight briefly soured into a breast-squeezing battle as they latched onto each other’s womanly gems and began squeezing hard as they could, sharp nails digging deep into soft tit flesh as fingers and thumbs sank into flawless skin and squeezed, tore and twisted until the howls of both

battlers filled the very air around them. Silvery, salty tears began streaming down their lovely faces from the damage they were inflicting upon one another’s sweet sacks, alkaline solution burning dry lips as neither woman was able to gain the upper hand(s).

It was Nita who broke the stalemate be releasing her grip on Teri’s breasts to begin slapping her Caucasian counterpart silly, left and right hands alternating sharp cracks across Teresa’s reddening cheeks. Teri responded by landing a fist to Nita’s pouty mouth that bloodied the Cherokee’s lower lip before the Italian gal began clawing hard at that injured orifice, trying to jam all ten of her purple-tipped fingers into Nita’s mouth, nails scratching

away viciously at her enemy’s wet tongue and soft inner cheek linings as Anita wailed in increasing pain. She tried wrapping her arms about Teri’s waist and squeezing her foe senseless in a bearhug, but Teresa again gained the advantage by extracting her spittle-drenched fingers from her victim’s mouth, digits escaping before a wearying Anita could bite down, and then rammed the heels of her hands up hard into the Cherokee’s small chin, bone pounding painfully against bone as the house-guest staggered her hostess even further. Anita drifted slightly right and left as she struggled to stay upon her bare feet after the stunning blow, her consciousness ebbing as her balance was compromised.

It was then that Teresa went to wrap things up, reaching up again quickly and fastening her small, soft, strong hands about Anita’s vulnerable neck and squeezing with all her strength, determined to choke her rival to death. The room began to spin about Nita, as her whole world became breathless ...

Nita’s gasps and gacks permeated the beachhouse atmosphere as she suffered in Teresa’s stand-up stranglehold, the Italian-American lookers fingers continuing to tighten about the Cherokee cutie’s throat in a veritable deathgrip. Teri’s breath hissed from between her clenched teeth as her eyes blazed and her body tingled with exertion and determination. Anita stood there futilely clutching her attacker’s wrists as Teri began to shake her

helpless prey back and forth, Nita’s eyes closed in again and her mouth agape as her enemy’s thumbs made deep, ugly depressions in her windpipe. A few more minutes of this and she knew she wouldn’t have to worry about sophomore year ...

“I’ve been waiting for this bitch!” snarled Teresa as she poured on unyielding pressure, biceps rippling and knuckles whitening with effort. “Die, you slut! Die!” Looking for a way to maintain her hold, she began to force Nita backwards, towards the wooden frame separating part of the living room form the kitchen hoping top press Nita up against it and use it as leverage in finishing her off.

“Guhhh ... “ was all Nita could stammer as she felt saliva - or was it blood? - rising in her agonized throat, and her life running out between Teri’s steely fingers as she was forced backwards, two pairs of petite bare feet scrabbling about slowly on the well-worn carpet. She wondered how she let herself get in this position, and knew she had to do something -

anything - quickly - or watch her little life end suddenly after eighteen years in a savage, ugly fashion ...

Feeling herself passing out from the increasing pressure plus the lack of oxygen, Anita released her right hand from about Teresa’s left wrist before curling it into a fist and punching her foe square in the left cheekbone. Teri cried out before growling and again tightening her grip, totally set on choking Nita lifeless now for her audacity.

“Die! Die, you little whore!” she grunted, the words rising in pitch, just before Anita’s fist found Teri’s nose and splattered it again, more blood now beginning to drain from Teri’s nostrils. Teresa shrieked again, the pain intense, just before Anita brought her balled-up fists down hard upon Teri’s upturned elbows, upsetting The Italian beauty’s grip just long enough for Nita to land another blow to Teri’s pretty face and finally wrench free of

Teri’s choking grasp. Pressing her newfound advantage, Nita slugged Teri across the face with a hard left, then snapped out her shapely right leg and slammed her foot into the other brunette’s gut to send Teri sprawling down onto the slick white linoleum of the adjoining kitchen floor. Nita smiled briefly before staggering back and falling to the living room floor on her tight, shapely ass, her soft hands massaging her sore, raw throat while she

coughed horribly and coaxed oxygen back into here tortured lungs.

Lord, she almost barehandedly strangled me, Nita thought, wondering how much longer she could have held out in such a potentially lethal hold. She could have killed me! Can’t let her get me like that again - have to finish her now!

Drawing strength from hidden reserves deep within her consciousness and body, Nita struggled painfully to her feet, than managed to amble over several feet towards Teresa before falling down upon the other woman, knees first. Teri yelled once more as Nita’s knees landed heavily upon her left side, one slamming into her arm, the other mashing her ribs. Crimson continued to trickle down the left side of Teresa’s pretty face, from her

battered nose to stain the alabaster floor - not a great deal, but still noticeable. Seconds later and her cries again rose, but muffled this time as Anita clamped one bare hand over her opponent’s pretty mouth and used the fingers of her other hand to pinch Teri’s already-damaged nostrils closed, the Cherokee babe trying to suffocate her hated ethnic enemy lifeless.

Teri fumbled at Anita’s wrists, clawed at her hands as she tried to get up and fight back, but Anita was straddling Teri’s side and pinning her down to the floor. Nita smiled as she saw Teri struggling beneath her, the Cherokee’s warm, furry black pussy growing wet as she began to rub it against Teri’s smooth white skin. She began to rock back and forth, like

riding a lover, her eyes closed and mouth open once more as she moaned softly, her soft, pointed, coppery breasts, tipped with small dark nipples, jiggling up and down as she continued to press and pinch off her victim’s breathing passages, blood from Teri’s nose spilling between her fingers.

Teri’s moans were again muffled by Nita’s flesh, her escape efforts still unrewarded as her own sweet chest rose and fell as she struggled to breathe - and failed. It was only amateur of minutes now - until a wide-eyed Anita suddenly screamed out loud, as Teresa bit down hard on the smothering hand covering her mouth. Nita tried to pull away, but Teresa grabbed Nita’s hand with both of her own and held on, angry white teeth biting down harder and harder and Nita’s soft, coppery palm, only relinquishing when Nita began

beating down upon Teresa’s left temple with her right fist, several times, harder and harder, the Indian’s shrieks reverberating about the kitchen until finally, thankfully, Teresa released her bite, blood streaming from Anita’s lacerated palm as she rolled off her opponent and lay there on her own side, shaking and rubbing her damaged hand as Teresa breathed in deeply, soft white breasts rising and falling as she sucked in great, sweet lungfuls of life-giving shore air.

Ignoring her injured opponent, Anita rose shakily to her feet and made her way unsteadily towards the sink, stumbling upon the counter before managing to turn on the faucet and run cold water over her bleeding wound. She applied pressure with other hands, long moments of pain passing by until finally the flow of red slowed. She pushed the plunger into place and allowed the sink to fill, the cold assuaging her injury as she exhaled a

sigh of relief ... and then felt herself being grabbed from behind.

Teresa had recovered and snuck up on her foe, had grabbed the Cherokee beauty's arm and twisted it behind her back, eliciting a shriek from the Native American brunette, who now felt her shoulder muscles and tendons straining beyond belief. Adding to her agony was Teresa reaching in front of Anita to grab the Cherokee by the chin with her free hand and pull her foe's pretty head back hard in excruciating fashion, stretching Nita’s neck

mercilessly as she cried out once more.

The worst was still to come, though, as Teresa, smiling wickedly now, began to force Anita down towards the kitchen sink, the Italian’s hard-tipped, soft white breasts digging into Anita’s smooth bronze back as she rode her opponent down. Rode her down towards the waiting sink, filled to the brim with clear, cool water, the white wrestlerette fully intent upon drowning her American Indian foe, without a shred of remorse ...

... until Nita lashed out with her other arm and caught Teresa hard in the temple with a elbow, Teri crying out at the impact as Anita spun around quickly, upsetting a row of coffee cups on the kitchen counter with her other hand and knocking them to the floor. She tried to grab Teresa by the throat, but the Caucasian cutie beat her Indian enemy to the punch - or choke - and got her strong hands around Nita’s throat once more, Teresa

shrieking as she bore down with all her weight and forced Anita down to the floor. The two beauties crashed heavily to the patterned linoleum, Teresa on top, as she straddled Anita’s trim waist and again began squeezing with all her strength as she screamed bloody murder. Anita gasped and coughed, choked and spluttered as she again tried to pry those clawed, killing hands from her throat, but getting nowhere fast she reached up and clawed her foe’s hanging globes.

Teri screamed once more and began pounding Anita’s raven-haired head against the floor, thumbs stabbing down harder and harder into Anita’s yielding throat as the Cherokee was pulled up and slammed back down repeatedly, the pounding too much to take as her arms splayed out uselessly to the sides, her strength just about gone as she felt the hands of death crushing her neck, and a peal of demented laughter ringing through her ears.

“You’re fucking dead, Nita! DEAD!” shrieked Teri with glee, and then she bore down

with all her night, hands squeezing harder than ever as she prepared to end the fight - and also Nita’s life. Tears streamed down Anita’s coppery cheeks, from fear and exhaustion as much as pain, as she readied herself for the end and thought of all the things she now wouldn’t get to experience in her soon-to-be over existence ... until she felt the cool touch of ceramic against her clawed fingertips and lolled her head slightly sideways to see

her hand brushing one of the fallen coffee cups - cracked, but still whole. Straining her fingers to the utmost as she hoped the determined Teri wouldn’t notice, Nita managed to curl her fingers around the cup and then summoned whatever strength had left to swing up her arm and smash the cup hard against Teri’s right temple.

Teresa’s shriek was unearthly, as were the several that followed as Anita rammed the cup against her attacker’s skull again and again, blood whipping across the kitchen and its two sexy nude combatants as Anita struck Teresa again and again, wrenching herself free from the Caucasian’s grasp as Teri tried to grab Anita’s right arm and fend off Foe’s assault. Her ploy failed as ceramic struck her chin hard, sending the Italian beauty sprawling again

as Anita rolled out from under her Foe’s furry crotch and great legs and continued her unconscious, almost-insane attack. Nita began to smash the cracked cup into Teri’s head multiple times, pieces of ceramic littering the floor with every blow as she struck Teresa again and again, blood splattering everywhere now with each strike as Anita went into a full frenzy and howled as she struck Teri over and over and over and ...

... finally noticed Teresa wasn’t moving at all, barely even breathing. Regaining her senses, Anita looked down in horror at her battered foe, blood streaming across Teri’s face and matting her dark hair, staining the smooth, slick white floor and even Anita’s face, breasts and thighs as the little Italian-American knockout just lay there motionless, knocked out or even ... no ...

Looking over at her sore right hand, Anita saw the formerly white mug almost totally cracked and drenched in red, and she dropped it and covered her mouth in horror with both bloody hands as she wondered what to do next - and if Teresa was even still alive ...

Anita guessed she had won, but she never figured it would have all ended like this ...

“Oh, my g ...” she stammered - and then all was still ...

END