The Professionals
"I swear if that bitch is at this regional meeting, I'll punch her face
in!", spat Christie. Her eyes narrowed at the thought of that punch.
"Oooh, I'd pay to see that", offered Peter as he pulled her closer on
the couch. Christie was venting now. "The last few times we've been at
meetings together, it seems we've almost come to blows anyway. We
can't be together anywhere without arguing. We were face to face last
Thursday in the conference room. I wanted to slug her soooo bad!".
"Ummmm, baby", sighed Peter as he grabbed her ass and ran his fingers
through her long hair. "You just want us to fight; don't you, you sick
bastard", she smiled at him.
Christie ran her hand down his chest and felt his hard cock through
his pants. "Ohhh my. I'd say you do!", she whispered as she stroked
him, "You just want to see us pull each other into the floor and
scratch and punch and pull hair, don't you? Go on, admit it, you
dirty boy". She unbuckled his pants and pulled out his throbbing
cock. "You know I do, babe," he panted as she stroked him. He pulled
off her blouse and bra and felt her warm breasts and hard nipples
against his chest. "But baby, you don't have to be tormented like
this," he offered as she hooked her legs around him. "You two are
always arguing. Just pull her aside at the meeting. Tell her you
want to fight. If things are as bad as you say between you, I'll bet
she'll agree. Then the two of you can meet and go at it undisturbed
just like you want to".
Christie was panting now as Peter pumped her soaking pussy as hard and
deep as he could. "Fuuuuccckkkk, yesssssss!", she yelled as she came.
The two moaned in pleasure as they held each other, savoring the moment.
Three days later, at the quarterly regional meetings in Kansas City,
thirty-four year old Christie Fletcher walked through the hallway
toward the conference room on the fifteenth floor of the corporate
offices. Her heels clicked on the hard tiles. She felt good. She
was dressed to impress with her formal but tight fitting blouse and her
shortish skirt. She was taking the dress code to the limit as her
hemline was an good inch under the limit. It was not too blatant so
as to cause a fuss. Her stockings and garters underneath made her
feel sexy and powerful.
She strode into the room and noticed a couple of the male managers
give her appraising looks as she took her seat toward the end of the
long conference room. But she had focused her eyes on Stephanie
McDonald, the object of her scorn and loathing all these many months.
Stephanie was similarly dressed, but her skirt was not quite as short.
The two women were around the same height Christie didn't know Stephanie's
age, but guessed it was near her own. Both were battling to stay thin; as
women of advancing maturity always had to do. Each was full figured.
Christie had received the gift of her mother's voluptuous curves and ample
breasts. She could never have been a model. But her men always seemed to
love her full figure, giving it wonderfully constant attention.
While the participants were being seated, the two women began a stare
down of sorts that left Christie feeling a little steamy. She wanted
so badly to just jump across the table and launch herself at that
redheaded bitch. She had dreamed of punching and scratching and
wrestling with her for the last 10 days. Would the others mind so
very much? She chuckled to herself as everyone quieted down. "I
think we would be a much more interesting agenda", she thought.
The meeting came to order and began an excruciatingly long and
uninteresting review of the quarter's activities and finances.
Stephanie and Christie kept up their staring for several minutes until
forced to pay attention the the official agenda and contribute along
the very boring journey to the lunch break.
Mercifully, a midday break did arrive, and not a moment too soon.
Christie quickly rose and began shuffling out with the others. She
kept her eye on Stephanie who was up ahead. Making her way closer
and closer, she was able to grab Stephanie's arm and quickly pull her
out of the hallway as the group continued to shuffle toward the
elevators. In an instant the women found them selves face to face in
a small staff kitchen. Stephanie, at first surprised at someone
tugging at her, scowled as faced Christie. The two women glared at
each other and said nothing for an uncomfortable minute.
"What?", Stephanie blurted rather loudly. "I'm hungry and you are in
the way as usual". Christie, swallowed hard. "Here we go", she said to
herself. "Well I"m sorry to come between you and stuffing your face",
she sneered. "But maybe I can bring new meaning to that phrase", she
said as she smiled pleasantly at Stephanie. "I don't know what the hell
you are talking about", sighed Stephanie. "But I'm not interested".
She started to move around, but Christie stepped to block her way. The
two women were now very close; their ample breasts almost touching.
Christie glared at her nemesis, leaned her head forward slightly and
spoke in barely more than a whisper. "Stephanie, you're such a bitch.
I am sick and tired of having to put up with your moronic shit
constantly. You seem to delight in trying to make me look bad. I'm
tired of arguing with you constantly. We're getting no where. I want
to fight you. That's right. You heard me. Let's go somewhere that
the two of us can go at it in a much more satisfying way. It will just
be two women taking their argument to the next level, but in private.
I don't want to jeopardize my position and I assume you don't either.
It will be just you and me, cunt. What do you say?"
Christie's heart was pounding. She was angry and scared but also
strangely excited. Stephanie' face expressed shock at first. But as
she listened to Christie ranting and challenging her, she realized they
both wanted the same thing. And when Christie finished, Stephanie dove
right in. She smiled and sneered lowly, "You dirty little whore; I'll
gladly fight you. I think I've wanted it for a long time. Where do you
want to do it; right here?" She was actually contemplating the idea
seriously. "No, you ass!" hissed Christie. "That would get us both fired.
I know you are staying at the Hilton too. I'll meet you in your room at
9pm." "It's on, bitch", answered Stephanie. "Oh it's most definitely on,
cunt", answered Christie.
The two women stood and glared at each other. Both secretly wished they
didn't have to wait hours to get what they wanted. They each thought how
nice it would be to reach out, dig their nails in, drag each other into
the floor and catfight as violently as they could. The sound of voices
approaching drove them to separate and hastily exit the building for
lunch.
Christie Fletcher felt extremely relieved at lunch. She had executed
her plan successfully. It seemed that Stephanie felt the same as she
did. The rest of the lunch break was a blur. She could not focus her
thoughts on anything that was said. And later, in the afternoon's
conferences, the two of them could not avoid staring at each other.
Now that they had finally agreed to fight, there were no pretenses of
professionalism. They glared hatefully at each other. They sneered as
they silently compared their bodies. Christie let her thoughts wander
as the presentations droned on. She much preferred to imagine what it
would finally be like to tangle with Stephanie to jerk her hair out and
scratch and bruise her body.
Mercifully, the work day finally ended. Christie lost site of Stephanie as
everyone went on their way. Christie turned down the dinner invitation
from her colleagues; saying that she didn't feel particularly well. She
preferred to return to the hotel right away. She didn't want to be caught
out late and miss meeting Stephanie on time. Plus, she was just too
nervous and worked up to concentrate on anything else.
Christie Fletcher was a successful and ambitious woman. All her life she
had been able to get her desires fulfilled. She had plenty of men to
satisfy her. Peter was the current one allowed to share her bed and her
pleasures. He was great, but men were not her passion. They were only a
sweet diversion. As a successful sales manager in her mid thirties, she
had to work hard to stay ahead of the curve. Most in her field were men.
As a woman, she was not above using her mature good looks to her advantage.
But she was also dedicated to being a legitimate success.
As she arrived at her room, she dropped her briefcase on the floor and
started pulling off her clothes to get comfortable and cool. Shit, what
was she going to wear tonight? She hadn't thought of it before this
minute. What does one wear to a catfight? She hadn't been in a fight
since junior high school. She remembered seeing many catfights during
her school days. But this was not her style. She was much more worried
about grades and college preparation. The girls who fought in school or
after school were wearing school clothes, of course.
There was that one strange Fall when she was in the 9th grade. She and
Penny Birch had argued and argued since the start of the term. They were
competing for the affections of a boy they both liked. She couldn't even
remember his name now. They had finally agreed to fight in front of him
on a Saturday evening behind the gymnasium. They both wore their
miniskirts and low-curt blouses. She smiled and shook her head as she
thought back to how it was. They locked up in a vicious hair pulling
contest before getting tangled in a little ball on the ground. They had
rolled and thrashed around in a tangle of arms and legs. They ruined
their clothes. Their skirts where up around their waists and the boy had
enjoyed seeing their bare legs and panties. The two of them scratched
each other and threw awkward punches After about 15 minutes, they were
both exhausted, with Christie getting the worst end of it. She lost the
boy that day, but she had no intention of loosing this contest this
evening. Oh no. She was going to crush Stephanie McDonald. She was
finally going to get her chance to fuck her up good.
Christie paced nervously back and forth. She finally flopped down in the
corner chair and realized that her panties were wet. She had become quite
excited thinking about the school fights and the coming catfight with her
rival. "My god", she thought. "I am turning into a dirty bitch for sure".
She chuckled softly and picked up the phone; dialing room 1219.
Stephanie answered with a curt and simple, "hello". "Well bitch",
answered Christie. "You're home early. No interest in whoring around
with the team tonight?". "Fuck you", returned Stephanie. "What the hell
do you want? Let me guess. You're too scared to go through with it.
You'll be giving up before we start". "Not in your fucking dreams. I
was just wondering what I should wear to come over and kick your ass",
spat Christie. "You can wear whatever you want. I'm not going to give
you a chance to ruin my good clothes. I say we can fight in our
underwear." "Oh, that would force you to actually put some on",
snickered Christie. "You are the one that dresses slutty", Stephanie
retorted. "There is a dress code you know. And your skirts don't meet
it". "Jealous of my legs, huh? I always figured". "Cunt, I hate your
legs and all the rest of you. I'm going to fuck you up tonight". "Yeah
well you've been a pain in my ass for way too long. So I plan on fucking
you up", growled Christie. There was a pause while both women imagined
finally getting their hands on each other. "God, I"ve wanted to fight you
for a long time, bitch. I'm glad to finally get getting it done", said
Christie. "You should have said something before", Answered Stephanie.
I would have been perfectly willing to fight you". There was another
minute of silence on the line which was eventually broken by Stephanie.
"You know, we dont' have to wait til 9 o'clock." "You're right, slut",
answered Christie. "I'm coming over now". "Come on bitch. We have
hours all to ourselves to do what we want", breathed Stephanie.