Chapter 3: Rising Action "All characters are over the age of 18."
: Tits and Tantrums
The gymnastics training room was a maelstrom of hormones and heated emotions, the air thick with the scent of their perfumes, the sound of their harsh, ragged breathing, and the low, primal growls of their voices. The once sterile, clinical room was now a charged battlefield, the tension palpable, a living, breathing entity that seemed to pulse with the same rhythm as their beating hearts.
Sarah and Emily were locked in a heated embrace, their bodies pressed tightly together, their hands tangled in each other's hair, their tits mashed and rubbing together like two ripe peaches.
Their breaths were coming in short, shaking gasps, their lips while not kissing rubbed together, smearing lipstick across both of their lower faces, while their mascara melted from their eyes, streaking a black war paint across each other's cheeks, with their eyes locked onto each other. The air was thick with their heated breaths, the room filled with the soft hiss of their nylon-clad thighs rubbing together, the low growl of their voices as they spat insults and threats at each other.
Unknown to either of the two cat fighters or John, other eyes were watching the impending catfight develop, from high above the now hair pulling thigh rubbing contest, combined with a tit to tit slapping mammary fight.
24, college students from C C College stood at the top of the Bleachers next door where the dance was being held, staring down with great interest at the developing girl fight, through a very high and long window near the top of the Bleachers. They could see the girls get into a hair pulling bear hug, arguing and pushing their tits together as they begin to dance around the training floor doing their lambada like pre catfight hair pulling dance.
All characters are over the age of 18.
John, his erection now painfully hard, watched as Sarah and Emily danced around the room, their bodies pressed tightly together, their hands tangled in each other's hair. He could see the heat in their eyes, the raw hunger that was simmering just beneath the surface. He could feel his own desire rising, his cock throbbing against the fabric of his dress pants. He adjusted himself, trying to ease the ache, but it was no use. He was too turned on, too caught up in the spectacle unfolding in front of him.
Sarah looked up at Emily, her eyes blazing with desire and contempt.
Neither young woman spoke a single word for the remainder of their conflict, only hushed whispers unaudible to anyone else except the two combatants.
The silence was now deafening, even next door the music stopped as the band took a break. All that John could hear was the grappling sounds from the two felines fighting over him. Not yet a full kinetic catfight, but that would likely change soon. At least that's what John's cock was telling him, now painfully pressing against the steek zipper of his pant fly. High heels tapped and scrapped on the floor, nylons continued to rub and rip at each other leaving long runs on the inside of their thighs. A Garter popped open, hair was painfully pulled and removed by eager claws, with resulting stiffled yelps. Neither girl wanted to draw attention to their battle as neither knew John had locked the door.
Deep down both of them probably hoped that someone would come in and stop their fight, but that was not going to happen now, and the crowd on the bleachers lied to anyone asking them what they were doing up there. They guarded their little catfight spectacle for themselves. Especially this classic one. Cell phones had been sneaked out, video taping the entire sexy athletic event. Even John had began to tape the sexy escapade with his. Both girls could barely see now with tears running down their faces, and even more mascara adding to their war paint art work across their entire faces. Both were now fully engaged in a down and under catfight, the two friends now bitterly struggling like two feral cats ready to kill each other for some food.
Their once pristine gymnastics training room was now a battleground, their once perfect faces with precise makeup applications, now streaked with smears of black mascara and red lipstick, like some bizarre Jackson Pollock painting. The air was thick with the scent of their arousal, the sounds of their grunts and gasps, the soft hiss of their nylon-clad thighs rubbing together, and the low growl of their voices as they spat insults and threats at each other.
The room was a symphony of sensations, a dance of bodies entwined in a primal, desperate struggle.
Sarah, her long blonde hair now disheveled and tangled, yanked Emily's head back by her hair, exposing her long, slender neck. She leaned in, her breath hot on Emily's ear. Let's play fucking dirty." Her voice was a low growl, laced with a dark promise.
Emily let out a gasp, her body arching back against Sarah.
She could feel the heat of Sarah's breath on her neck, the sensation sending a shiver down her spine. She had always been turned on by rough play, but this was different. This was raw, primal, and she couldn't help but be drawn into it.
"That's what you want, isn't it?" Sarah whispered, her lips brushing against Emily's earlobe. "You want me to play dirty. You want me to show you who's in charge here."
Emily's breath hitched, her nipples tightening painfully. "Yes," she whispered, the word escaping her lips like a secret.