AUTHOR NOTE: And now for something a little different, a red-hot cat fight, savage and sexy, between two determined middle-aged women.
*****
Sean's sweaty hands kept sliding off the steering wheel of his beat-up old Toyota pick-up truck as he maneuvered it through the massive steel gate that swung open to the half-mile long driveway to Pat's house. Sean was a nervous man, nervous and broke, and Pat's house, a testament to all that is bad and greedy in man, was the last place he wanted to be, but the first and only place he could think of.
"Just to get back on my feet again, that's all, just back on my feet again," he muttered to himself as he drove up to the massive house of the most successful building contractor in the city. "That's all."
He got out and walked up to the towering mahogany door and leaned on the bell. Pat answered himself, but only because he knew Sean was coming. Any other visitor would have gotten one of the servants. Pat smiled broadly when he saw the sullen Sean and offered a thick paw. Sean took it and shook limply. He couldn't help but think just how greasy his `friend' looked today.
"So, you're broke and you need my help," Pat said, walking Sean to his expansive study. "Isn't this a pleasant turn of events?"
Sean sunk into a thick leather chair. It was only a few months ago that Pat had approached Sean with the idea of pitting their wives together in a catfight to be held at the contractor's mansion. Pat and his wife, Liz, 55, a Spanish firebrand with huge, paid-for tits and a muscular middle-aged body, were very much into the fighting scene, often scaring away what few friends they had when Pat would suggest that the women do battle.
Sean was also put off by the idea and had nothing to do with Pat, other than some carpentry work for him. But when the trade went sour and Sean's bills piled up, the idea made more sense to him. His wife, Michelle, was a blonde-haired, blue-eyed beauty of 53 with a rock-solid 5-foot-inch body that she took care of, devoting many hours to it in the gym and hitting the running track. She was a street girl, too, grew up tough and hard and could fight with the best of them. But Sean never told her what Pat had asked.
If he had, Michelle would've jumped at the chance. She'd known Liz for several years, never liking her for any of it. She resented Liz' rich-bitch ways and the way she condescended to the poorer folk of town - like Michelle and Sean. She'd secretly always wanted to kick Liz' ass.
"Ten-thousand dollars is a lot of money, Sean, do you think Michelle can put up a $10,000 fight?" Pat asked, swirling his expensive brandy in a snifter.
"No sweat," Sean said. "I'll have Michelle here tomorrow night. You just have the money."
Pat laughed. "The money is always here, my friend, just look around. See you tomorrow. Tell Michelle you're going to a party."
Michelle was steaming that night when Sean got home and told her they were to dress to the nines the next evening for a party at Pat's house. She hated him, too, almost as much as she hated his wife. But she knew it meant a lot to Sean's business if she went. What she didn't know is that it meant 10 grand.
"Jesus, will you look at this place," Michelle seethed as the battered pick-up truck returned to the mansion the next night and found a parking spot amid a collection of BMWs and Volvos. "Makes my skin crawl thinking about the way this asshole screwed so many people to make his money."
"C'mon, Michelle, I need this guy," Sean whined. "I know you hate to hear it, but money's money. I need work for my business and he's it. Just play along."
"I'll play, I'll play," she sighed. "But I just don't want to run across his bitch wife. If we ever get alone, I can't promise you what will happen."
Sean smiled inside. That's just what he wanted to hear.
They went inside, made small talk with people they didn't know, had a couple of drinks and ate very expensive appetizers. Pat came out and made a big deal out of introducing them around before he escorted the two of them to his wood-paneled den, in which, Sean noted, the furniture had conveniently been pushed to the sides.
"They'll be painting in here soon," Pat said by way of an excuse for the wayward furniture. "Oh, Liz, I do believe you and Michelle know each other?"
The raven-haired Liz sauntered in in a low-cut evening gown, her huge tits welling up over the top. She shot Michelle a look and sat in one of the chairs, crossing her short but muscular legs, exposing her rugged thighs at the tops of her dark hose. Michelle did the same on the other side of the room, in her much-cheaper silver-sequined dress cut low in front and high on her strong thighs encased in opaque pantyhose, and the two vixens glowered at each other.
"Oh, Sean, come out here for a second, I want to show you some work I think needs to be done, and I think you're the man for the job," Pat said, escorting Sean out of the room. "Girls, get reacquainted."
He winked at Liz and she nodded. Michelle fumed and stood up to leave, but Liz barred the door, shutting it firmly and spinning around.
"Where do you think you're goin', leetle girl?" she spat in a Spanish accent. "My husband said get re-ak-wainted. And that's jes' what we're gonna do!"
Sean and Pat watched from behind a two-way mirror in the room, Sean nervously, Pat with a bemused smile on his face.
"Going well so far," Pat laughed, slapping Sean's back, Sean grimacing at his touch.
They watched as without warning, Liz strode up to the Michelle, grabbed her head and slammed her supple, hard thigh up between the blonde's legs, smashing into Michelle's pussy with a sickening thud. Michelle's eyes shot open and her hands flew to her crotch as she fell to her knees before the laughing Liz. With Michelle's hands out of the way it was easy for Liz to flatten her with a brutal right cross to the jaw. The blonde flew backwards and bounced off a chair before landing flat on her stunned face, her evening gown bunched up around her high, hard ass.
"Cheap shot, goddammit, that wasn't fair!" Sean cried out, leaning on the glass and wanting to bust through it, grab his wife and head home, the money be damned.
"It's early yet, kid," Pat sighed. "Wait and see, though I must say I don't see a lot of fight in your lady."
"Oooo, nice butt on you, girl," Liz laughed as the battle continued, stepping over the prone woman at her feet and sitting on the small of her back, facing the blonde's kicking feet. "Too bad I'm gonna fuck it up for you!!"
Liz reached down and pulled up Michelle's dress, tore a hole in the pantyhose with her nails and shredded the material, exposing the blonde's skimpy white thong. She grabbed it, laughing darkly, and yanked it up between Michelle's creamy, smooth ass cheeks. With the flesh exposed, Liz rained down on it with both hands, palms first, and delivered a brutal spanking, the stinging sound of ass meat being beaten filling the air and bouncing off the hard wood walls. Michelle screamed in pain and tried to buck Liz off her, but the black-haired beauty just slid
back and engulfed Michelle's head in her thick thighs. She stretched her short legs out and locked up her ankles to put extreme pressure into her crushing scissors, her torso atop the blonde's squirming back.
