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Archive name: track.txt (FF, catfight, huml, v)
Authors name: Traci (queen_traci@yahoo.com)
Story title : Track Meet

--------------------------------------------------------
This work is copyrighted to the author © 2003.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story.  You may post freely to non-commercial
"free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites.
Thank you for your consideration.
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Track Meet (FF, catfight, huml, v)
by Traci (queen_traci@yahoo.com)

***

The silky-haired brunette lowered the camera to her lap 
again. The woman had just lifted her head from her 
husband's lap, and it looked like they were talking. Now 
the passenger door opened. She had all but one picture 
she needed. Her hands trembled as she lifted the camera 
again, zooming in on her husband's car, waiting for the 
unknown bimbo to get out so she could identify her. 

A pair of long legs swung out and Maria snapped two more 
pictures from the 35mm Nikon as she turned, leaned in and 
blew her husband a kiss goodbye. Maria grimaced, 
whispering, "cunt" as she recognized her. She was almost 
sure that her husband's lover was the female gym teacher 
and track coach. Tall, blonde, and from Sweden, she had 
just come to the school this year, and was an instant 
hit. Apparently, with the other teachers, too. 

Dan, who taught chemistry and coached water polo, had 
been staying late at the school to "grade papers" and 
"prepare for the upcoming playoffs". Yeah, he was 
preparing all right. She watched in disgust as the lofty 
Swedish home-wrecker tossed her blonde hair to one side, 
opened the door to her car, and climbed in. Her two-
timing husband backed out of his space and headed out of 
the school parking lot. 

Maria went to the gym, locked herself in a stall, and had 
a good, long cry. After that, she sat on the toilet, 
regaining her composure. Then she planned the meeting.

***

She decided to wear something simple, not extravagant, 
but also that showed Miss Sweden that she had plenty to 
keep her husband happy. Venezuelan-born Maria Foster had 
a lovely little body packed into her 5'4" frame. Not big 
in the bust, but neither was her Scandinavian 
counterpart, and she would put her pert little bottom up 
against anyone's: it was as tight and curvaceous as it 
was 8 years ago when she and Dan were married at the 
tender age of 21. 

She chose a pair of very short denim shorts, high-heeled 
sandals, and a simple, pink cotton sleeveless pullover 
without a bra. This hussy needed to see that the wife's 
breasts were perky and in great shape without any help 
whatsoever. Her dark brown hair dangled on her shoulders, 
and she added a dark lavender touch to her eye shadow. 

She was going to meet with a woman, and the woman needed 
to see beauty, along with strength of character. The 
darker-than-usual eyeliner gave her a night time look 
that she thought conveyed just the proper suggestion of a 
woman who knows how to attract and keep her man. 

She walked up to Ingrid Johansson just as the coach 
finished her daily run around the field, after all her 
track students had left. It was about 5pm. 

"Hello, Miss Johansson," she smiled as the leggy blonde 
dabbed her neck and forehead with a towel. 

"Hello," Ingrid flashed a brief smile. "What can I help 
you with?"

"My name is Maria. Maria Foster."

Ingrid kept walking and nodded, as if she were about to 
hear a complaint from a mother about her daughter not 
getting enough of a role on the track team.

"Oh, you're going to play dumb with me?" Maria asked, 
stopping in between the two portables near the phys ed 
building.

Ingrid stopped, turned and looked at her. The blonde hair 
was in a ponytail, and sweat darkened her midriff cut gym 
shirt, and the waist of her tiny running shorts, which 
were cut so tight they looked more like large panties. 
Her blue eyes bore into Maria's without a word.

"I know about you and my husband, so let's just cut all 
the play-acting," Maria said, folding her arms.

Ingrid glanced briefly at the ground, then brought her 
eyes back up to the attractive, olive-skinned Maria. "I 
see..." she said, nodding.

"I'm coming to you as a woman, hoping to appeal to 
another woman's senses," Maria went on. "It's simple. I 
could be a bitch, and give these pictures to the 
principal--" she held up her Nikon camera and then 
stuffed it back in her purse--" and your teaching career, 
along with Dan's, would be in ruins. I saw you with him 
last night. What's in this camera leaves little doubt 
about what was going on in my husband's car." Maria 
nodded toward the parking lot where she had seen the last 
few moments of an apparent blow-job the night before.

Ingrid said nothing, just stood, her arms folded, her 
thin lips slightly pursed in concentration.

"The easiest route here," Maria said, her plan unfolding 
just as she had hoped, "is for you to consider Dan a 
memory. Dan transfers to another school, nothing is ever 
said, and you never see me--or him--again. I trust that 
you will agree with me on that." 

Ingrid looked at the ground again. It was working. 
Dignity, diplomacy, Maria's mother had taught her. Don't 
lose your cool. Just win your battles with tact, and move 
on. 

Ingrid said nothing.

"I'll take that as a complete confession, and a complete 
agreement," Maria said, satisfied that she had done well 
here; she hadn't raised her voice or cried, though she 
came close. A surgical, easy end to it all.

"Speaking for myself, and my husband, then, Miss 
Johansson, I'll say, 'goodbye'." Maria turned to leave 
when Ingrid finally spoke.

"I give him what he craves, and what he does not get from 
you, Maria."

The words stopped Maria in her tracks. Without turning 
around, she said in a cold voice,  "I won't even go 
there. Just say it is over, and you won't be dragged 
through anything ugly."

"A man as sweet, good, and handsome as Dan," Ingrid said 
evenly, "should have the pleasures he seeks. And as long 
as he comes to me, I will give it to him if you will 
not."

Maria whirled and faced her, taking two steps that 
brought her within a few inches of the sweat-tinged 
blonde. "You--" she said, her teeth gritting together 
"will leave him alone! I thought we just agreed on that."

Ingrid, four inches taller than Maria, smiled menacingly 
at her. "He loves the way I suck him. You hardly ever go 
down on him, Maria. I know, he tells me." Her 
Scandinavian accent was soft, barely noticeable, but just 
evident enough to make Maria hate her even more.

Maria's mouth dropped in disbelief. "I cannot believe 
what I am hearing. And not that's it's any of your 
business, but I sucked my husband off just this Thursday 
night!"

Ingrid smirked. "That's because I told him to ask you for 
it. It was my request." 

Maria tilted her head. "What?? What in the world do you 
mean it was your request?"

Ingrid almost giggled now. "When you sucked him off 
Thursday night, lovely Mrs. Foster, he had just left my 
apartment, where he had fucked me in the ass. Did his 
cock taste a little different to you that night?"

Maria's plan to be dignified and diplomatic crumbled in 
that one stunning statement from Ingrid. "You filthy 
bitch!" she cried, and, before she could even think about 
it, she swung and slapped the tall blonde. Ingrid stepped 
back and held her cheek, but she still had the remnants 
of a smirk on her face.

"That," Ingrid said slowly, "was stupid."

Maria stepped forward again, and her breasts brushed 
Ingrid's. "If you want it this way, you slut, then my 
lawyer and I will drag both of you through---

"--UGH!" Maria grunted in surprise and pain as Ingrid's 
fist slammed into her stomach.

"Don't you threaten me, woman!" Ingrid said through 
clenched teeth. "And don't strike me, either!" Ingrid 
immediately brought a right cross crashing against 
Maria's pretty chin, and the pretty wife tumbled 
backwards onto the grass. 

She sat up quickly, rubbing her chin, mouth open in 
shock. She slid her purse off her shoulder. Amazed that 
the woman had hit her this hard, Maria scrambled to her 
feet, and charged the taller woman angrily, head down, 
arms flailing. One of her whirling fists beat down on 
Ingrid's 34d breasts, but the track coach quickly caught 
the smaller woman's wrists and pushed her back to arm's 
length. Maria, her pouty lips set in a snarl, kicked at 
Ingrid and caught her knee. 

"Damn you!" she barked in frustration, unable to hit her 
while Ingrid held her arms in check. 

Ingrid frowned as pain shot through her knee, and her 
calm Swedish face suddenly creased with anger and 
determination. She pulled Maria closer suddenly.

"Foolish bitch," she whispered hotly, her breath puffing 
against Maria's hair and blowing a few dark strands up. 
She yanked down hard on one of Maria's wrists, then 
twisted it deftly, spinning the petite latina into a 
painful armlock.  

"Let go of me...." Maria panted, trying to jab backward 
with her free elbow. One caught Ingrid's rib, but failed 
to loosen her grip.

Ingrid clenched her teeth and wrapped up the brunette in 
a headlock, bringing her face to her bare ribs. Maria 
tried to bite her there, and Ingrid cursed in Swedish, 
then pumped her knee up into the slighter woman's tummy. 
With a sickening thud, Maria felt the air leave her and 
she went briefly limp. 

Ingrid let her drop to the ground, then quickly got 
behind her and clamped a bearhug on her as the darker 
girl sat wheezing. Maria felt panic shoot through her as 
she realized she was getting the worst of this unexpected 
encounter, and just as she moved to twist to her side 
Ingrid pulled her top up, reached around from behind, and 
clawed her breasts with her pale, bony fingers. 

Maria shrieked, not even thinking who would hear, though 
the shadows were lengthening and the school was empty 
now.

Ingrid's face was near her ear. "He told me he likes to 
play with your nipples...like this..." she hissed at the 
stricken wife. She rolled the brown nipples in her 
fingers, then pinched hard.

"AGHHHHHhhhhstoppppp...." Maria whimpered, her body 
arching in Ingrid's persistent grip.

Desperate to get free, Maria Foster snaked her arm down 
behind her and between the two women, and found Ingrid's 
crotch. She clutched the cottony mound as hard as he 
could, fingernails digging into the cotton-clad vulva, 
and Ingrid wailed in pain. The Swede coach let go of her 
adversary and rolled away from her, and Maria scrambled 
to all fours, taking rapid gulps of air to try and 
recover from the knee she had taken to the midsection. 

Her top was rolled up and crooked around her neck, so she 
whipped it off and threw it at Ingrid as the Swede 
advanced on her, both women red-faced and panting. 
Ingrid, her eyes on the darker woman, dodged the top and 
kept coming. She was breathing heard, but she conditioned 
daily, and had plenty of reserve left.

Ingrid took a moment to smile at her rival. Maria's long 
brown hair was tousled, and bits of grass stuck to her 
locks as she stood there in only her tiny denim shorts. 

"You're prettier than I imagined. But ever since he told 
me what a cold bitch you were, I have wanted to slap that 
face of yours, even though I had never seen you. Now I 
want to even more."

Maria breathed deeply, her perfect breasts rising and 
falling as she stood with her legs apart. 
"You....fucking.....bitch..." she said with venom. With a 
shriek of effort, she charged Ingrid, aiming for her top, 
and grabbed it. The momentum of her charge sent both 
females crashing against the outside wall of one of the 
portables. The women staggered in each other's grip as 
they groped and clawed for leverage, bumping and thudding 
along the wooden slats. 

The daylight was only a dull glow on the horizon, and 
their battle was lit now only by the orange sodium vapor 
lights on the roofs of the wooden buildings. Maria, 
squealing with effort, kept a hold of Ingrid's top and 
pulled with all her might, trying to bring the taller 
woman to the ground. She couldn't down her, but with a 
satisfying rrrrrip Ingrid's sweaty workout top tore along 
the side seam, and then came wide open. As the women 
grunted and entangled against the wall, the top slid off 
of Ingrid's tall frame and fell to the grass. Ingrid's 
pale breasts mashed and bumped against Maria's now as the 
women gripped each other's hair and fought for advantage.

Once again, though, Ingrid's size and conditioning gave 
her the upper hand. She had hurt Maria early, and she was 
able to overpower her enough to pin her against the 
portable wall. She seized the shapely brunette by the 
throat, and banged her head against the wooden slats. 
Maria's head swam as she had her  head helplessly thudded 
against the portable wall. Her 34c breasts jiggled as 
Ingrid gripped her throat and kept up the hammering. 

A dull ache crept into Maria's skull as she whined and 
squealed, struggling to avoid the thumping. Maria got in 
two good punches, one against Ingrid's cheek, the other 
on her tit, and Ingrid grunted as the fists hit their 
marks, but she stood fast, and locked Maria's right arm 
down behind her again. That left the unfortunate latina 
with just her left hand to defend herself, and she was 
using it to try and pull Ingrid's strong grip from her 
throat.  

Dizzy from the pounding of her head against the wooden 
wall, Maria tried a desperate escape attempt: she 
dropped, slipping through the blonde's grasp, her face 
sliding down Ingrid's fair skin until her mouth was 
against the Swede's breast. She took Ingrid's nipple in 
her mouth and bit down hard. Ingrid still had her wrist, 
and it hurt terribly, and with her free hand Maria clawed 
at the other breast.

"AHHHCCH!!!" Ingrid cried out, and gripped Maria's hair, 
pulling to try and dislodge her foe as she chewed on the 
nipple. Maria moaned but kept up her breast assault, 
until Ingrid brought her knee up, catching Maria in the 
chin. Maria couldn't suffer any more blows to the head, 
and with a clacking of her jaws she let go and crumpled 
to her knees. In the brief moment that Ingrid backed up, 
Maria looked up in woozy satisfaction when she saw a 
small trickle of blood leaking out of the wounded nipple, 
surrounded by a circular smudge of her lipstick.  

Ingrid held her bitten mammary and frowned angrily. 
Maria, however, was in no shape to celebrate that small 
victory. Her head had taken a terrible pounding, and she 
knelt there for a moment, wavering, trying to regain her 
equilibrium.

"Goddamm..." Ingrid whispered, surveying the damage to 
her breast. Before Maria could struggle to her feet she 
grabbed the brunette by the hair and delivered a flurry 
of open-handed slaps and backslaps to her lovely face. 
Maria's head snapped to and fro with each blow, a high, 
wounded moan coming from her throat each time Ingrid's 
hand punished her. Her hands went blindly in front of 
her, unable to stop the slaps, and when she went to cover 
her head, Ingrid slammed a well-aimed fist into her soft 
tummy. 

Maria gagged and sank further down, doubled over, her 
bottom high in the air as her forehead rested on the 
grass. Her chest heaved, searching for oxygen, as the 
angry Ingrid stepped over her fallen form. 

What Ingrid did next, Maria could have never imagined. 
Ingrid reached down and grabbed the back of her jean 
shorts, and with the other hand scooped her under her, 
across her chest. Maria was in no shape to resist at the 
moment, as she was fighting for breath and strength as 
her head hung between Ingrid's calves. 

Ingrid, with a groan of effort, picked the slighter Maria 
right up off the ground, lifting her entire body up 
sideways. Then, she widened her stance, like a weight 
lifter about to clean and jerk, and pushed Maria up 
higher, over her head. 

"Nooooooo..." Maria wailed pitifully.

Ingrid grunted again, flexed her elbows, lowering the 
squirming and topless Maria slightly, and then, with a 
shriek of effort, jettisoned the 29-year old woman's 
petite body through the air like an Olympic shot-putter. 

Maria, legs and arms flailing helplessly, sailed like a 
raggedy Ann doll through the air in a perfect arc, and 
landed with a loud thud in the grass five feet away. She 
rolled in slow motion to her side, groaning and holding 
the now tortured shoulder she had just landed on. 

"ohhhhhhgoddddd...." Maria croaked, shattered by the 
terrifying experience of being thrown through the air by 
another woman. With trembling arms, she pushed herself up 
to all fours, and with horror found herself staring down 
at Ingrid's tennis shoes. Two long legs towered over her.

"You...c-can't.....have hhimmm...." Maria Foster moaned, 
as she summoned all the strength she had left. She reared 
up and swung her fist as hard as she could, hoping to 
strike Ingrid in the groin, or anywhere, to hurt her and 
hopefully buy some time. 

Her fist breezed through empty air, however, as Ingrid 
simply stepped back and avoided the desperate punch. 
Maria fell face down as the swing missed badly. Ragged 
sobs bubbled from her throat.

"H-he's....mmmine...." Maria croaked, and with a shriek 
of effort, pushed up off the grass and lunged at Ingrid, 
grabbing her around the legs. She pushed hard, trying to 
tackle the tall woman, but Ingrid steadied herself and 
would not fall. The desperate latina used her mouth 
again, and clamped her teeth into Ingrid's left leg, by 
her knee, and bit down.

Swedish curses erupted from the young coach again, and 
she tore her legs from Maria's grasp. Maria, gaining a 
bit of fuel from knowing she had hurt her opponent, 
pushed up and got to one knee, but just as fast got a 
backslap from Ingrid that sent her tumbling to earth 
again.  Ingrid quickly checked her leg, finding only a 
red mark and some lipstick smudges, but no broken skin.

Maria rolled onto her tummy, unwilling to give up, though 
now the beatings were taking their toll. She was moving 
in slow motion now.  She started to push herself up 
again, moving unsteadily to all fours, and a tennis 
shoed-foot came stomping down on the top of her head. 
Maria's face slammed into the grass and her face hummed 
with pain, then started to go numb. She clawed 
grotesquely at the earth, blades of grass brushing her 
open mouth and her nose.

She started to muster up the strength to push up again, 
but Ingrid was on her, straddling her legs. Then, Maria 
was pummeled with a storm of powerful punches to her back 
and kidney area that made a series sickening thuds when 
Ingrid hit her. 

"Ugh...ughh...ugh...ugh...." she moaned as Ingrid beat 
her.  Soft hisses from Ingrid's nostrils accompanied 
Maria's painful grunts as each punch landed.

Ingrid stood, put her foot against the fallen brunette's 
side, and shoved, rolling her over onto her back. The 
young Swedish woman could taste her victory now. She 
turned around, facing the Hispanic woman's feet, and sat 
down on her breasts, her buttocks spilling out of the 
tiny gym shorts and pressing against Maria's chin. Maria, 
mouth open in agony, forced her head up and bit into the 
white flesh of one of Ingrid's buttocks right near the 
crevice where the fabric of her gym shorts was buried. 

"ACH-GODDAMIT!!" Ingrid shouted. "You and that mouth of 
yours-" She lifted her body up and then slammed it back 
down onto Maria's breasts, forcing more air out of her.
She repeated this for good measure, and landed higher up 
on the failing brunette, her buttocks slamming into 
Maria's face this time as her crotch landed on her neck. 

Maria gasped and coughed, making tortured hoarse noises 
as she inhaled. She was in no shape to bite now. It was 
everything she could do to breathe.

Calmly, Ingrid reached down and unbuttoned Maria's 
shorts, and then unzipped them. Then she moved down on 
Maria's nearly paralyzed frame and pulled her shorts and 
panties down together, exposing a dark, close-trimmed 
bush. 

"st-ttopp....." Maria pleaded through lips that felt like 
they were ballooning up from being driven into the ground 
by Ingrid's foot moments earlier. 

Ingrid paid no attention to the woman's pleading, and 
wrestled the tight shorts and panties down to Maria's 
knees. Then she moved off of her, grabbed the dark-haired 
wife by the hair, and painfully brought her up. Had 
Ingrid let go of her hair, Maria surely would have 
toppled over, she was in such oxygen-starved agony now. 
She followed, puppet-like, as Ingrid pulled her to her 
knees.

Ingrid, kneeling next to the tousled, topless brunette, 
put her mouth near Maria's ear. 

"Now," she said, her breath hot and humid in Maria's ear. 
"I am going to finish you."

The words struck terror deep into her heart, and Maria 
sobbed, trying to ask for mercy but unable to move her 
lips.

Ingrid drove her fist into the latina's dark, trimmed 
mound.

"Ughhkkkkkkkkkkk...." Maria moaned, her voice strangled 
with pain. She fell forward onto Ingrid's body, her mouth 
open against the top of Ingrid's breast.

Ingrid stroked Maria's hair as the smaller woman body 
quaked against her. 

"Sweet little Maria...can't even win a fight for her 
husband," Ingrid cooed, enjoying the humiliation of her 
lover's wife. Then she yanked Maria off her by her hair 
again, and pulled her to her knees again,  letting her 
hang there in her grip like some trophy a hunter had just 
shot.

"If Dan ever decides to put his cock back into that 
useless pussy of yours, you will remember this..."

Ingrid cocked her arm back and delivered another vicious 
punch to Maria's pussy. Her fist made a sickening 
thhhupp! as it pounded into the soft labia. Maria lungs 
erupted in a deep, agonized shriek, and the beaten beauty 
flopped forward again onto her tormentor, her body 
twitching, mouth slack and making wet smears against 
Ingrid's open armpit.

"Mmm..yes, I guess by now you would need a little salt 
intake," Ingrid said as Maria's open mouth gasped in her 
armpit. She gripped Maria's hair and moved her head up 
and down, forcing Maria's open mouth to swab and lick her 
armpit.

"There, little one," Ingrid cooed sarcastically, "we'll 
be all better when we get a little salt, hmm? Listen to 
the coach."

Ingrid pushed her off, and the petite latina fell to 
earth like a sack of lead. Her arms splayed to her side, 
her face stared with glazed, tear-filled eyes at the 
nearly dark sky. Grass stuck to her tangled hair and 
drool leaked out of her bruised lips and down her chin. 
Hiccupped sobs spilled softly out of her throat. Her legs 
were straight out and motionless, tethered closely to one 
another by the rolled up shorts and panties, which 
imprisoned her at the knees. She lay there, blinded with 
pain, and prayed that her savage and humiliating ass-
whipping was at an end.

Ingrid stood directly over her, hands on hips. A couple 
of drops of sweat slid off of her face and off of her 
breasts, and splattered on Maria's face.

"Yes, I can have him. And I WILL have him," she spat at 
the vanquished wife. Then she walked to Maria's purse, 
and took the camera out. She straddled Maria's chest 
again, facing her this time, and sat down on her breasts, 
crushing them again. She looked down into her captive's 
brown eyes. Maria looked up at her, too beaten to speak 
or move any part of her body.

Ingrid popped open the back of the camera and yanked the 
film canister out of it. She tore the film out of the 
canister, letting all of it spool out onto Maria's face 
and bare chest, until the entire roll was exposed.  
Maria's ragged and pitiful sobs became louder as she 
watched Ingrid destroy the evidence of their affair.

With a ragged groan rising in her lungs, she lifted her 
neck and tried to claw at Ingrid's bare tits. The lanky 
blonde simply slapped her hands away, and then squeezed 
her thighs together, clamping them like a vice against 
sides of the brunette's breasts. Maria's head flopped 
back down and she arched slightly, eyes shut as she 
fought for air. 

Ingrid unclenched her thighs and smiled down at her 
cruelly. Maria opened her eyes dully, the deep sting of 
defeat welling up in her. She grimaced as she felt 
Ingrid's crotch and thighs pinning her body to the earth. 
She couldn't help but think of those same thighs and 
crotch harboring her Dan, and he imagined him between her 
thighs, humping, penetrating the pussy that was just 
inches from her face now.

Ingrid finished letting the film tumble out onto Maria's 
neck and face. 

"Now, there is nothing left of your laughable little spy 
session," Ingrid stated matter-of-factly, dropping the 
empty camera on the grass. She took two ends of the 
useless film, and brought it under Maria's neck, and then 
cinched it around her throat. Maria arched helplessly, 
and coughed.

"please..." she begged Ingrid, "d-don't k-kill me......"

Ingrid smiled down at her, holding the film like a 
tourniquet around the loser's tender throat. "As tempting 
as that is, I won't." She traced Maria's full lips with 
her fingernail, mocking foreplay. "I can fuck Dan 
whenever I want, wherever I want. Isn't that true, Mrs. 
Foster?"

Maria shut her eyes, and whimpered, but said nothing.

Ingrid tightened the film around the woman's throat, and 
saw her eyes bulge. "Whenever I want!" she repeated, 
"Right, Maria?? Say it, bitch!"

Maria nodded her head frantically, her words slipping out 
in a tortured wheeze.

"y-yes....yes...you c-ccann...whenever you wwwant...."

"Tell me whose pussy Dan wants!" Ingrid hissed down at 
her, "TELL ME!"

Maria fought the sobs and the hiccupping as she fought 
for air, "y-yours....y-your pussy..."

"Because I am the better woman, aren't I, Maria??  Hmm?? 
SAY IT!!" Ingrid planted more weight on the brunette's 
breasts, and cinched the film tighter.

"y-yess..." she croaked, nodding as her head swam from 
lack of oxygen, "you are the b-b-better w-woman....."

Ingrid smiled triumphantly, and let go of the film. Then 
she lifted up, and inched forward, positioning her humid 
directly above Maria's tear streaked face. 
"Kiss it."

Maria looked up into Ingrid's eyes, begging her silently. 
She knew better by at this point than to protest vocally, 
besides, her mouth was nearly numb from Ingrid's repeated 
slaps. 

"Kiss my pussy. When Dan puts his cock in me later, he'll 
have a little kiss from you. Isn't that sweet?"

Maria sobbed, but lifted her head slowly and pressed her 
lips into the thin strip of fabric at Ingrid's crotch. 
Ingrid grabbed her hair and held her there for several 
seconds.

"Kiss it good, bitch, so I can have your lipstick on my 
shorts. I'll keep them hanging in my closet so I can see 
that every morning."

Ingrid smiled as Maria moaned, her warm breath exhaling 
into her groin.

"Hmm!" Ingrid joked. "Maybe I'll come into your house at 
night, have Dan, and have you too! It doesn't look like 
you can do anything to stop me."

With a cruel chuckle she dropped Maria's head and looked 
down at her as she spoke.

"You can have Dan transfer, and you can move....but I'll 
find him..and if necessary, I will find you. So don't 
stand in our way.  If you try, I will give you a public 
beating next time, somewhere where you least expect me, 
in front of the whole neighborhood, or at the 
mall...anywhere I choose. Do you understand??"

"y-yes....yes...I  d-do...." Maria sobbed, her voice 
sounding like a scared little girl.

Ingrid climbed slowly off. She stood over the beaten, 
naked form of the rival she had conquered, her own body 
tingling with victory. 

"There, you see?" Ingrid mocked, "I think you understand 
now. All you needed was a little...coaching.

She laughed gently, stepped over her victim, and picked 
up her towel to cover her breasts.

"So, goodbye, Mrs. Foster," she sang in mock sweetness. 
Then, she walked to her car, looking back once to savor 
her win. 

Maria lay on the grass in the harshly lit darkness for 
nearly twenty minutes before she could move her arms 
enough to pull her shorts and panties back up.  

Shivering, beaten, and humiliated, she had been robbed of 
both her husband and her dignity. Every move she made 
hurt as she pulled her clothes back on her battered body. 
Each pulsation of pain reminded her of how quickly the 
tables had been turned on her, and how brutally the tall 
Swedish woman had thrashed her.

She rubbed her face, thinking of Ingrid going to Dan and 
making love to him after beating her to a pulp, and she 
cried, softly. 

Finally, she turned over, and crawled on all fours to 
pick up her camera and her top. She rose to her knees, 
pulled her top back on, and sniffled, hugging herself to 
try and stop her ravaged body from shaking. Then she 
rose, and limped to her car.


THE END

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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

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Kristen's collection - Directory 24