Ann was getting very fed up lately with Leslie. Worse than fed up--downright pissed at the bitch. At first Ann didn't mind Leslie's hovering and hanging around; Ann was confident enough in her own marriage to Leslie's ex that if Leslie wanted to continue to get shot down by him, so much the better--it would serve as a constant reminder to Leslie that Ann was the better woman. And as a side benefit, the sex between Ann and the love of her life was quite hot after each Ann/Leslie run-in. Ann could empathize with this--having 2 women competing for him must be quite a turnon to a man.
But, lately, Leslie had seemed to become downright desperate in her pursuit of her ex. Ann had heard from some mutual friends that Leslie was making up stories about an illness, in order to trick her ex into sympathizing with her. Ann was concerned about where this was all leading, and decided to have a chat with Leslie. And to show Leslie she was serious, Ann hired a private investigator to get the goods on Leslie; Ann held in her hands an envelope showing a completely clean physical for Leslie. Ann could of course show this to her husband, and show Leslie up as a pathetic lonely woman; but of course then Ann would look obsesssed with Leslie. So Ann decided she should show the results to Leslie, and end this crap once and for all.
Ann had a mutual friend drop word to Leslie that Ann's husband would be spending a night at White Sulphur Springs for a business convention. Ann suspected this news would be too tempting for Leslie not to act on. On the appointed Monday night, Ann dropped into the resort, and checked in to room 352 under her husband's name. She was wearing a short mini-skirt and a tank top.
Sure enough, at 9:30pm, there was a tap on the door. Ann looked through the peephole. It was Leslie, all slutted up--he hair up big, way too much makeup, push up bra showing lots of cleavage, Daisy Duke cutoff short shorts, and 6-inch heel fuck-me pumps. Ann couldn't contain herself, and whipped open the door saying, "Surprise!".
Leslie was momentarily stunned, but quickly regained her composure. "Oh, hi Ann. I overheard downstairs that you two were staying here, and I thought I'd say hi."
Ann motioned for Leslie to come in, and shut the door. Ann and Leslie bumped shoulders as Leslie walked in and sat on the bed. Ann said, "You fucking liar. You thought he was here alone and thought you'd make another failed attempt to win back what isn't yours anymore. But he doesn't go for that whole whore get-up you've got going; he's into class, you loser."
Leslie, taking off her heels: "Well, then you have nothing to worry about, do you, honey? So where is he?".
Ann, standing over Leslie: "He's not here, bitch. It's just you, and me, and this medical file of yours. You're healthy as a horse, aren't you bitch? And ugly as one, too."
Leslie, flushing: "How the hell did you get that? That's fucking personal."
Ann: "Don't worry about how I got it. My husband is getting it next if you don't agree to confess to him first how pathetic you are."
Leslie: "Oh, no, Ann. I don't think so. I'll tell him what happened all right, but you're the one who will look pathetic. I'll tell him how desperate you are to make me look bad. You're the won who wants him all to yourself--all I've ever wanted is a wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am fuck. Ex's do it all the time, you jealous witch."
Ann: "Ex's do it when the new wife doesn't guard what's hers. And I'm never going to let my guard down. Now I don't feel like spending all night wasting my time with you, you pathetic has been. Are you going to tell him, or am I?"
Leslie: "Ok, fine, I will. But this isn't over, bitch. Now give me that file."
Ann: "I don't think so, honey."
Leslie lunged up and tried to pry the file from Ann. Ann pushed Leslie back onto the bed. Leslie saw her last chance for a future with her ex going away with the information in that file. She had nothing left to lose. A wave of anger and jealousy overpowered her. She had always fantasizing about taking that bitch Ann down a peg or two. And now she had the chance, locked in a hotel room with the bitch. "That's it, I'm going to kill you, you fucking bitch." Leslie jumped off the bed onto Ann, grabbed a hunk of hair, and yanked Ann to the ground, punching her face over and over.
Ann knew that this night might result in a knock-down drag-out with Leslie. Ann was ready. Ann knew that as long as Leslie didn't jump her and catch her off guard, that she was more physically agile than the bitch. Better they have it out now, in a fair fight, than Leslie jump Ann someday and get the better of her in an unfair advantage. And since the news of the faked illness would probably get Leslie kicked out of their life, this might be Ann's only chance to kick Leslie's ass.
In grabbing for a hold of something, Leslie's slut clothes slid off very easily. Ann was pissed to see Leslie was wearing no underwear at all. Leslie was fighting totally dirty, scratching Ann's hair, her tits, between her legs. Ann realized her clothes had come off when she felt Leslie sweaty skin flush on her.
Leslie was calling Ann all sorts of names, but Ann wanted to save her energy for the fight. The two where crammed in a very tight spot between the end of the bed and the hard wooden armoire. Both were attempting to shove her opponent against the hard surface, while getting the relatively soft bed against their own back; all the while scratching, clawing, punching--Ann could feel chunks of Leslie's skin under her fingernails. Minutes passed. More and more of the same. Ann craved to be free to move and to cut loose on the bitch Leslie. A part of her she knew was in her had kicked in--she wanted to hurt Leslie. Through the random rolling around, Ann got some leverage, and had her hand on Leslie's jaw. Both were sitting, facing each other, looking each other in the eye. Ann had a free hand to begin punching Leslie in the face. There would be nothing Leslie could do. She asked Leslie if she gave. Leslie said no. Ann punched Leslie some more, and again asked if she gave. Leslie nodded, weeping. Ann was relieved--her hand was starting to hurt bad--probably some broken bones in there.
Ann was exhaused and sore. She got up to inspect the damage in the bathroom. She had scratches all over her face and chest, many of which had drawn blood. Well, I guess I'll have to come clean about what happened. She began cleaning off her face.
As she looked up in the mirror, she saw Leslie standing there, holding hair dryer, about to nail Ann in the back of the head with it. Ann whipped around, and by instinct grabbed a hunk of Leslie's hair, and hard as she could slammed Leslie's head on the toilet seat. And did it again. and again. and again. You bitch, you bitch, you bitch. Blood everywhere. Have to get dressed, get out of here.

You can contact North East Jen at Ruffgirl18@aol.com