This is a continuation of a story I began way back in 2007. I can't
believe it's been so long. Hope you like the latest part. You can
find the previous ones, along with the rest of my stories, in the 2007
folder on this wonderful web site:

If you haven't read the old ones, I hope this one will still be
enjoyable all by itself.

Catherine sauntered out of the women's locker room toward the side
door of the clubhouse. She caught the eye of a young man who almost
wrenched his neck turning to admire her tan legs and curvy figure.
She chuckled under her breath, knowing she was easily 20 years older
than he was. She took pride in her appearance and good care of her
body. She wore a very short skirt. There were shorts underneath, but
you had to look close to tell. She liked to be a pleasing part of the
scenery to complement the lush green and fresh air of the Sun Valley
Country Club, outside of Socorro New Mexico.

Today, the Women’s League for Social Consciousness and Justice was
having their annual charity golf tournament for the benefit of the Las
Cruces Family Outreach Hospital. The FOH Benefit was played on the
same weekend every year. This year, Doris was the chairwoman and she
had worked tirelessly to make everything come together. Catherine was
happy to be free of that pressure this year. The “honor” had been
hers the year before.

All the socialites were out to play. Their degree of golf skill
mattered not. The ability to pay the exorbitant entrance fee got a
tee time for anyone who was interested. The objective was to have fun
and raise money for the FOH.

The early October day was sunny, dry and quite warm; so typical of the
South West. She first fell in love with this part of the country five
years ago and never left. All the area's most influential people where
here. It would be a fun day and an opportunity to hobnob and
socialize while doing important charity work.

After hitting a few balls on the practice range, she went to the huge
scoring board by the clubhouse to see pairings. She had first entered
as a team with her best friend Victoria. But Vic was suddenly called
out of town for a death in her husband's family. So Catherine was at
the mercy of the committee regarding her playing partner. And really
she didn't care. Didn't care that is, until she saw the name sitting
with hers under the “Players” column. Connie!

“Well there goes a nice afternoon”, thought Catherine. “I'll get that
Doris for doing this to me”. She moved away from the board, still
smiling an nodding at everyone she met. But all the while she was
muttering under her breath, “That fucking bitch. How can I have any
fun and do any personal networking with her skanky ass constantly in
my way?”. It wasn't such a large tournament that they had to play
foursomes. So Connie would be her only companion for approximately
the next five hours. “Wonderful”, Catherine thought sarcastically.
She decided to spent the next few minutes on the putting green. “I
might as well practice”, she mused. Her tee time was coming up in
only 20 minutes.

Later on the practice green, as she picked her ball out of the hole,
she saw a very striking woman walking down to the hill from the
clubhouse. Dressed in her own short skirt, she spoke to the mayor as
she descended to the green to warm up. Connie gave her a hard look as
she dropped her balls on the green and began to practice. As the two
women putted on the green, They were eying each other's form
admiringly, in spite of themselves. (not their putting form, the other
one) She had striking red hair to contrast with Catherine's blond.
They were very close in age and build. Both were tall, tan, full
figured women. How Catherine hated that figure.

Presently Connie left the green to load her bag onto the cart assigned
to their twosome. And in another minute, Catherine sighed at the
inevitable and followed. Connie was ignoring her as she arrived at
the cart and started to load her bag. While sorting through her
pockets for tees, she addressed Catherine without looking at her. “I
came here with high expectations to have a good time. Looks like
that's out”. “It wasn't my idea. I'm going to get that Doris for
doing this to me”, answered Catherine. “If you had any self respect
you'd withdraw. Oh, I forgot. You think you are the darling of the
social set around her”, shot Connie. “Listen, bitch”, muttered
Catherine. “I don't like this any more than you. We've got two
choices. Either you and I go at it right here, right now. Or we try
to be civil, get the round in and then you can get the hell away from
me”. “I have a third alternative”, said Connie as the women glared at
each other. “Let's behave for now, get the round in and then go
someplace we can do what we both want”. Catherine' drilled a dirty
look back at the redhead and nodded her agreement. Turning to get
into the cart, she let a little smile cross her face.

As the ladies waited for the group on the tee in front of them, they
sat beside each other in the cart in silence. Catherine's thoughts
went back to the lavish affair four months ago on a Saturday evening
at Connie's house. During the find raiser that evening, the two had
challenged each other in a bizarre series of private confrontations,
eventually resulting in a dirty catfight in an upstairs bedroom.
Before their evening was through, they were naked and battered on the
bedroom floor; their conflict having been discovered and viewed by
none other than Councilman Dandridge, the featured speaker of the
evening.

She was shaken from her thoughts by the sound of the last tee shot
before they were scheduled to go off. “Oh my lord!”, she thought.
Standing across the first tee was the esteemed Councilman Dandridge,
the very one who tried to blackmail them on that night, four months
ago. And the bastard was winking at them and smiling as she and Connie
walked up onto the tee. While Connie was preparing to hit, Catherine
noticed the clouds rolling in.

Finally teeing off, they rode away in the cart. The day had been
glorious until then, but clouds were gathering over head and the air
was heavy with more humidity than usual. As they hit their shots down
the narrow first fairway, Catherine's second went wide right and into
the high grass. But as Connie ran the cart over there she dropped
Catherine off and quickly headed to her own ball.

Being offered no help in looking for her ball, Catherine muttered to
herself and rummaged around for several minutes, beating the grass
with her 7 iron until she gave up on finding it. She called to Connie
to bring her bag so she could drop another ball to play. In a minute
Connie drove the cart over, but was obviously none too pleased at the
delay. Catherine dropped another ball and played up to the green.

After putting out, Connie began to mark the score card. Turning to
Catherine, she asked, "Did you take a stroke penalty for the lost
ball?". "Just worry about your own score, bitch", answered Catherine.
"A double bogey it is then", replied Connie, marking the card with
glee.

"My fists are going to feel so good pounding into her skanky flesh!",
thought Catherine. Climbing back into the cart, they played on in
uncomfortable silence. The clouds continued to darken the New Mexico
skies.

On the next green, Catherine was amazed to see Connie step directly
into her putting line as she walked around to survey her own putt.
She blurted out, "Ahem, excuse me, you slut!". Connie looked around
somewhat bewildered. "Oh. I'm sorry", she murmured without much
humility, before moving on.

On the very next hole, Catherine teed her ball before Catherine
forcefully said, "I believe it's my honor". Connie rolled her eyes
and bent over to pick up her ball, vacating the tee for Catherine. As
Connie bent over, she blatantly showed her shapely ass, clad only in
lacy panties, to her playing partner. “Ill mannered AND a slut",
snorted Catherine, as she prepared to tee off. Connie turned quickly.
“What did you say to me?”, she flushed with anger. The two women
quickly faced off, nose to nose. “You heard me”, sneered Connie. The
two glared at each other for long minutes as a rumble of thunder could
be heard off in the distance. The two were itching to get at each
other, but conscious of being in plain view of other groups around the
golf course. In a minute they grunted and turned away from each other
so Catherine could hit her shot.

On they played, in silence now except when it was required they
address one another. Connie began to bend over her ball on every
green, obviously displaying her ass. Catherine was steaming over
this. She heard the unspoken words "kiss my ass" hanging loud and
clear in the desert air. The air was freshening and the thunder was
getting nearer as they play on in silence.

After the eighth hole they climbed into the cart. And sitting there,
side by side, Catherine was almost overcome her disgust for her
playing partner. The two sat and glared at each other in a lengthy
stare down. More thunder was heard and a light rain began to fall.
The rain seemed to break their concentration. Looking out at the sky,
Connie finally hit the accelerator and sped off to the next tee.

As they continued around the course, Catherine thought this was
definitely the weirdest round of golf she had ever played in her life.
The light rain continued to fall and became heavier by the minute. The
two women were not even trying to mask their feelings toward one
another.

On the seventh hole, things got even more dicey. As the women both
rounded the back of the cart to bag their clubs, Marsha threw her hip
out and bumped Catherine. In an instant the two were pushing their
noses and tits into each other. “You want to go”? sneered Connie.
“Come on, cunt”! snarled Catherine. They bumped and pushed each
other.

But then the clouds began to really open up and the rain began to fall
steadily. The women reluctantly separated and groaned as they jumped
into their cart. The rain was pouring and the wind was getting
up. Catherine, who was in the driver's seat, made quickly for the tiny
little bathroom in the wood line between the seventh green and the
eighth tee. There were a couple of these rest rooms on the course.
It wasn't a “room” really. There was barely enough space to turn
around in. It wasn't much larger than an average port-a-potty. But
the women rolled up quickly, jumped out and scrambled for the door.

Pushing themselves inside, they slumped and panted in the dark little
space. Both were pretty well soaked. Catherine leaned back against
the door. And Connie was wedged against the toilet. Still they
couldn't get more than six inches apart. “Damn you! What a fucking
cunt you are!”, spat Connie. “Don't be concerned about my cunt, you
slut. It's more than you can handle”, answered Catherine. The women
could barely see each other, in spite of their proximity. There was
no light except for a little sunlight coming in all around the edge of
the little roof. And there was absolutely no ventilation except for
some air holes way up by the ceiling. It was rapidly getting as hot
as the women's tempers.

They were in each other's face. “Fucking skank!”, swore Connie.
“Come on, bitch. You and me. Right now” challenged Catherine. “Let's
fight, you whore”, answered Connie as the two smushed together and dug
their hands into each other's hair. Their legs tangled and they
clutched and struggled and stumbled around in the cramped, hot space.
They each threw wild punches into the other's sides and back. Connie
pushed hard and they tumbled back against one wall. Then Catherine
jerked Connie's hair savagely and they fell toward the other side,
coming to rest side by side on the toilet seat.

For several minutes they sat and punched and slapped and tore at each
other's blouses. Before long their nails were dug into their bare
breasts. They cursed and scratched and eagerly took every opportunity
to hurt each other. They were both glad to finally be fighting, after
such a miserable and frustrating afternoon. They both wanted this
since they starting the golfing competition. Now it was competition
more suited to bitches in heat than to rich society women of the
country club.

After a long session of tit scratching and punching, they started
kicking at each other as well. Then they slowly pulled each other
into the dirty floor and wrapped arms and legs around each other.
Their skirts were around their waists and their blouses torn to
tatters. Two sets of tits were scratched and smashed together. And
both women were sweating profusely. What a sight they would have
been, if you could have seen them. For many long minutes they lay
tangled in the dirty floor and knew nothing and thought of nothing but
the fight.

Outside, the rain continued to fall and occasionally there was a clap
of thunder. No one could hear the women grunting and cursing in the
little bathroom. Nor could they hear the banging against the sides of
the little room as the two wrestled and kicked and fought.

Meanwhile, back at the clubhouse, there was concern about everyone
getting in from the severe weather. The thunder and lightening were
dominating the sky in a scary fashion. And Connie and Catherine were
among the missing. The good Councilman Dandridge, having given his
assurance to find them, set off in a cart, working backward from the
18th hole in search of his prey.

Oblivious to everything but their own anger and lust, Connie and
Catherine clutched each other on the floor of the little plastic
bathroom. They were each clutching the other's throat with one hand
and punching anywhere they could with the other. With each punch,
Catherine became more and more excited. The women were humping each
others thighs as they fought. Their clothes were in tatters. And
both were wet and dirty from wrestling on the filthy toilet floor.

As the rain continued to pour onto the roof of the little building,
the two women slowed their punching. Finally just sucking air into
their tired lungs, they lay entangled and resting. But Connie wanted
more - much more. She fully intended to lay here and fight with
Catherine for as long as she could. Damn it felt good when her fists
landed! After resting just a short few seconds, she renewed the
pounding in earnest. And this enraged Catherine. They both resumed
the struggle, punching wildly and thrashing around on the floor. The
two rolled violently from side to side, finally banging into the door
and spilling out onto the soaked ground.

With the rain pouring down on them, they continued to roll across the
ground. When they came to rest they grabbed two fists full of
stringy, wet hair and jerked viciously. Once, twice and then three
times, Connie threw a knee into the cunt of Catherine the
Cunt. Catherine, swore and punched Connie's face. She dug her nails
into Connie's tit and squeezed until blood showed. Screaming at each
other, the two twisted together and rolled on the ground. The
continued to pound each other with their fists and jerk their heads
around by their hair.

Dandridge noticed the two feminine forms locked in combat as he
rounded the dogleg on the 16th fairway and headed toward the tee box.
As he pulled up close and stopped the cart, the esteemed Councilman
was not ashamed to rub his hard cock and sit and watch the two women
fighting on the ground. How fucking hot they looked; soaked, dirty,
half naked and wrapped violently together. He had dreamed of them
night and day since witnessing their catfight in the bedroom, some
four months ago. Once again he was mesmerized by their sexy,
struggling bodies.

Thrashing and kicking apart, Connie and Catherine struggled to their
feet. Then turning to face each other, they squared off with raised
fists. As their bare tits swayed gently back and forth as they
stepped forward, eagerly slugging each other's bodies. Connie felt a
wonderful buzz; better than any time she had ever been drunk. She
wanted them to go on hitting and hurting and fighting. She didn't
give a fuck where they were or what they looked like. The golf
tournament was long forgotten.

Dandridge watched them fistfight for several minutes. What marvelous,
strong, exiting women! He was so glad he hadn't missed this. They
were bruised, scratched, soaked and so captivating. Their tits
slapped against each other as they slugged it out. Finally tiring,
they stood, panting on unsteady sexy legs with their fists still
raised, daring each other to continue. And they would have, if they
hadn't been exhausted.

Dandridge reached for the rain ponchos in the seat beside him and
walked over to cover each woman. He stood between them as they cursed
and challenged each other. Somehow he succeed in getting them into
the cart. The ride back to the clubhouse would never have worked, had
the women not been almost completely exhausted. For the moment they
were content with a war of words while rolling along the soaked
fairways. “Fucking, slag cunt!”, spat Connie. “Rich bitch, I'm going
to tear your ugly tits off”, countered Catherine. “Baby, when we get
back home, we'll continue this”. “Bring it whore. This fight is just
getting started”.

And Dandridge tried mightily not to smile and give it all away as he
pulled the cart into the maintenance shed by the clubhouse. He walked
each woman to her car. And before parting with each one, he told them
to come by his empty apartment on Jackson Street in an hour. If they
wanted to continue fighting, they could do it there, undisturbed for
as long as they wanted. This appealed to both women.

He then made his exit as quickly and gracefully as possible in the
clubhouse. He reported that he had found the women alright, but wet,
tired and in bad need of rest. Their cart had broken down and they
were caught in the storm, trying to walk in. This was accepted by all
and he was quickly gone as soon as everyone was otherwise occupied.

Meanwhile both Connie and Catherine drove home drove home without
incident. The got out of their wet and tattered clothes, rested and
got a little something to eat and drink. What a sad sight they both
were. Mercifully the scratches and bruises would be be hidden by
their work clothes. But wearing their bikinis would be embarrassing
for a while. Strangely, neither cared. All they could think about
was their unfinished business and their coming rendezvous downtown.

When it neared the hour of 7pm, Connie slipped her naked, bruised body
into her rain coat and a pair of flat sneakers and headed for Jackson
Street. And at the same time across town, Catherine gently messaged
her sore breast before putting on her coat and heading for her garage.
As she slipped into the seat she sighed. Then reaching down to rub
her moistening pussy, she savored the thought of going out to fight
Connie again. Shortly the two would be locked in a sweaty, violent
struggle. And she couldn't think of a better way to spend the
evening.