Backseat Battle Ch. 02

"Oh, FUCK!" Sammy exclaimed as she reached out her hands to push Brenda's face out from between her legs. "Bitch... Get... Get ... off ... me."

Though her words rang of it. And though her defensive squirming hinted to it. The young brunette's weak pushes at forehead and light pulling of blonde hair betrayed how willing she was to let her rival continue. That is to say nothing of how wet her sacred crevice was already. It seeping its juices into Brenda's latching mouth like the rippest of fruits does on its first bite.

"I get Mark if I win..." The brunette seemingly declared as her eyes closed and her head fell onto the top of the couch's back cushion.

"Right...?" Strong though the words sounded, not a moment later were they amended by question.

Question and then a moan. "Oohhh ggaaawwwddd..." Samantha sounded out in pleasure, as the wife she had come to confront lapped at her clit and licked at the doorstep to her still-tight sex.

"Say it..." The brunette demanded in a desperate whisper. One she offered as she fought meakly to pull her sex away from her rival's mouth. An effort that succeeded only in allowing her own juices and Brenda's saliva to drip from her over-excited kitten to the couch cushion below.

"Please, say it..." Again, even as she felt an early orgasm building within her, Sammy begged.

A begging met not by words, but instead by a more and more focused attempt by Brenda to bring her young rival to to the cliff. The wife's practiced tongue working around and for brief flashes over the brunette's unhooded and wanting core.

And with every second that dance of tongue and touch continued, Samantha fell deeper and deeper under the blonde's control. The blinding light of an oncoming, steal-roller of an orgasm being too bright for her to ignore or think past. The Mark-less babysitter only able to moan and then cry out, in tiny, half-breathless whimpers.

On the verge of it though she was, a second, brutal, and rebuttal-free defeat, somewhere in the madness of her desire she found it. The strength to grab at Brenda's hair, and in a sudden tug, drag the blonde's tongue out, and head up and out from between her legs.

"You little slu..!!" The near-instant-victory-expecting wife cursed in part, before she found her own lips drug forward and into a kiss with Samantha. Their mouths, despite their unequal states of disrepair and distraction, still opening for one another. An opening which allowed their tongues to shoot forth and in a wild, tangle of hatred, jealousy, and desire crash.

Kiss though they did. Passionately, and as if they, wife and meant-to-be mistress, were destined to do nothing else, still did Brenda fight. She reaching her right hand down and between Samantha's still spread and soaked inner thighs.

And though there the blonde expected to find a tight little sex, waiting to be finger-fucked to orgasm, she found instead Sammy's hand clamped down tight around the same.

There in that valley of perfectly soft flesh and spilt secretions, Brenda struggled to insert her fingers past and then pry loose her rival's covering hand. But as one moment after another passed, Sammy found her once depleted focus returning, and the orgasm she once feared would take her ebb.

A distance from defeat that gave her the confidence to make a move of her own. One that came without warning as the young, husband-seeking neighbor broke she and her rival's kiss and then after a quick quarter-stand, dove forward and on top of the blonde before her in a naked tackle.

A blonde that under the weight of her rushing rival collapsed back to the carpeted floor. The two ending up not in a tangled mess of nude bodies and splayed hair, but instead with Brenda flat on her back, with Samantha sitting atop her. The brunette's river wet sex sitting atop the sternum of the wife below her, with the arms of the same pinned beneath and between pressing thighs.

"Get off me!" Brenda hissed as she glared up at her suddenly resurgent rival atop her.

"No way. Not until you say it."Not a glare, but a smirk was worn on the brunette's face as she looked down at Mark's once victory-certain wife

"No..." Brenda muttered in frustration, as she turned her head to the side. No longer wanting or even willing to look at Samantha, though she had done so with such fire before.

"Say it, bitch!" The sitting brunette demanded, as she extended a pair of ready-to-pinch fingers and attached them to the blonde's still-hard nipples.

"NooOo!" Louder than before, and in far more than a mutter, Brenda refused once more, as she suddenly fought to free herself from beneath her young rival.

"Ugh! You're such a cunt!" In her own spell of swelling frustration, Samantha cursed as she fought to keep her balance. She leaning left and then right - back and then forward, before moving her hands from yet unpinched nipples to the carpeted floor before her to brace herself.

"I'll NEVER give you another chance to take him from me!" Her effort to dislodge having failed, Brenda finally looked to the neighbor girl atop her. Her alight and ablaze with annoyance and anger.

"Whatever, you ancient bitch... I'll make you..." Without a single doubt in her mind, or a hint of as much in her voice, Samatha righted herself. The brunette doing so by shifting herself back, with a drag of her wet cunt across the blonde's chest.

"STOP CALLING ME OL-mmmnnnnppppphhh..." Mid-resistance and mid-refusal, a palm suddenly pressed down over Brenda's speaking lips and breathing nose.

"Shhh, shhh, you wrinkled old slut." At the very moment Brenda found her mouth and nose covered by Samantha's hand, she thought back. To what Lauren had said. To how she, that poor life-evicted woman had described the loss of her fight with Claire.

It was this!

Exactly this!

And so Brenda fought. And so Brenda bucked. Wildly and with everything she had. Bridging high and desperately on flexed calves and extended toes. Pushing with her pinned arms and slapping with her awkwardly placed hands.

None of those rebellions alone would have done the trick, but with all of them in play, Samantha failed in her defense of balance. And in so doing, slid forward - off of sternum, over breasts, and onto Brenda's effort-contorted face.

A sudden and unexpected change of placement that caused both wife and threatened mistress to speak at the same time.

"Oh, I will sooo sit on your face, Betty White." "Mmmmrrrrppphhh" The former spoken by she above and latter muttered but muffled by she below.

"Mmmm, now what were you saying? Hmmm...?" As Sammy asked mockingly, she could feel it. Her kitten lips parting and then sliding down each of Brenda's anger-reddened cheeks. They catching and entrapping both the blonde wife's mouth and nose. "

"You love it; I know you do. The taste of my young pussy." As the catty brunette spoke, she wiggled. Shifting her lower half left and right. Not far or forcefully, but playfully and in a tease of the woman whose face remained firmly placed between her thighs and in her sex. The only visible part of the same being the blonde's glaring, and black-mascara-winged eyes.

"Must be nice to see one up close. You know, a pussy that's not old, stretched out, and wrinkled like yours." With every teasing word out of her mouth, Brenda wriggled and resisted. She trying once more to bridge, and thereafter to kick her legs high up into the air and forward, hoping to catch Samantha and somehow drag her back and off. The blonde's finally free hands moving to the husband-seeking neighbor girl's ample ass cheeks to push and to press - searching for any relief that could be earned by such efforts.

And though the words stung, and though Sammy meant them to, there was a calmness to them. A patience lacking from those insults she spat when first she and Brenda warred. The young brunette feeling comfortable and at home in her struggle with Brenda, after countless nights spent dreaming of the same.

Despite that comfort, the jealous neighbor girl knew, or at least felt, like she could not earn victory this way. In smothering out her rival. And so, when first Brenda's eyes began to dim in even the slightest, Sammy lifted her pressing and oxygen denying sex. Just enough for the blonde wife to breathe - just enough for her to hear and then respond.

"Say it, and I'll get off you. Whoever wins gets Mark." It was fair, Samantha thought. After all, Brenda had cheated in their first battle - at least in her mind. The sexfight challenging wife trapping her young rival between the first and second row of seats in her Escalade, before tribbing her to orgasm and defeat.

Despite that one-sided belief, however, Brenda still replied defiantly, through sputters and gasps for air. "...n...nn... NoOoo...".

At the sound of it - the gall of it. Refusal?! When she was so clearly trapped?! Hell no!! Samantha raged without words, as her eyes went wide and she shifted herself back down, to once more seal her rival's mouth and nose within her still-wet sex.

But as the wide and sex-ready hips of the brunette lowered once more, the blonde beneath her leaned up. Leaned in, and in a desperate attempt to earn her own salvation, pressed her own lips through Sammy's. Not in the dead center of her carnal cavern, but just beneath her velvety hood. A hood she displaced and then dove into with teeth. Using them not to bite or chew, but instead catch Samantha's clit.

"Sh-" The brunette began in panic, as she felt Brenda's tongue lash her captured clit.

"N-no, fuck! FUCK!" Knowing full-well what the blonde wife below her intended to do, Sammy, despite her previous proximity to dominance, tried to stand. Tried to lift her pressing and pinning lower body off of Brenda.

And as she on top sought such freedom, she on bottom tried to wrap her arms around the withdrawing legs of the same. The resilient wife knowing she had her rival and that if she could only keep her seated there atop her face for a few more moments, she could drag an orgasm from her youth-sheened body.

Odd and unexpected though that switching of intentions was, for she who sat to want escape, while she who was sat upon fought to keep, Samantha moved first. The brunette escaping her rival's grasping, just as her clit escaped the teeth of the same. The neighbor girl scrambling not only off of her carpet-bound rival, but into a stand several feet away.

"Oh my god, come here you FUCKING BITCH!" Brenda shouted as she too made a mad dash from her back to her feet.

"Wait, you need to say it! What are we even doi-" In an attempt to talk out what they were fighting about, if not ownership of Mark, Samantha tried to speak. But at the hearing of her rival's tone and the sight of her stomping towards her, Sammy halted her sentence and began to backtrack.

Backtrack and then in a hurried, breast-bouncing jog, move. Not to the door of the home, where their the first sparks of their second fire flew. But instead deeper into Brenda's home, down the hall, and into the room Samantha guessed to be the master.

A trip from one end of the house to the other that Brenda took too. The blonde chasing after her naked rival, until finally, when there was nowhere else to go, that rival climbed onto the home's marital bed and turned back to face her pursuer.

"Right here, bitch." Samantha dared, as she let her hands glide over the soft, white, goose-down comforter.

"Right here in your fucking bed, you dried up whore." Again the words were hateful and cruel, and yet as she spoke them, the brunette's eyes flashed with both desire and excitement.

She wanted it.

The confrontation.

The collision.

For Brenda to crawl onto the bed and meet her.

For she and the wife she sought to overcome to lock bodies once more.

Yes, for Mark.

Yes, in a contest of wills and wiles.

But also and deeply, for the heat and intensity of the battle itself. A battle she had dreamed about - fantasized about again and again since their first encounter took place.

"You want to fight me for Mark...?" Brenda asked as she sauntered slowly towards her own bed, though she knew the answer.

"You know I do, bitch..." Samantha answered from a spread-leg kneel.

"You want to go body-to-body for my husband, you slutty little skank...?" Again Brenda asked, as she crawled onto her rival-occupied bed. Knowing the answer, but wanting to hear Sammy say it.

Curse at her. Tell her how old she is. How ugly she is. How much hotter and younger you are than her - Samantha's ego begged. And yet as the brunette's lips opened, and Brenda came near, all she could stutter out was a quivering, half-whispered, lip-licking, "yes..."

A word, as desperate and lust-drenched as it was, that seemed to echo about the otherwise silent room as Brenda brought herself to a stand.

A stand from which she then challenged with an equally wanting growl. "Then earn it, babysitter." At the very moment her words sprang from lips, the blonde wife reached out and grabbed a handful of Samantha's hair. A grip she then used to pull the same forward and into her strawberry body wash scented mound.

"Lick me..." Brenda demanded. "Make me cum." The once victorious blonde dared. "Show me what a good little girl you can be, and I'll-UUUNNNGGGGHHH"

Before she could even finish her lust-driven ultimatum - her breathless dare, Sammy rolled her soft, blush-reddened cheek across the blonde's bare mound and then complied. She not able to wait. Not able to resist the siren call of her rival's red-hot and waiting sex.

The brunette instead burying her face between the wife she sought to overcome's thighs, as she searched hungrily for the kitten buried within.

"Nnnnnnnmmmm, yeeessss..." Brenda exclaimed after a hum. Sounds that came as Samantha found the taste and the trigger she sought to overwhelm.

A trigger in the form of a clit that the brunette vixen ravished with her tongue. That she caught and then massaged with her chapstick-spackled lips. That she nibbled on with the same fervor and drive she had in her dreams.

And what a dream it seemed to be, her rival handing her the keys to her own destruction. Presenting her sex and daring she who sought to find it to do her worst. But at that moment, the same madness that must have pushed Brenda to offer, threatened to rob Samantha of her ambition to revel or exploit.

For there in that bed, wife and would-be mistress' focus on destruction and eviction seemed to fade into the fog - into the distance. Each for that moment appearing to focus on nothing but each other. Nothing but living out the fantasies each had seen play out in their dreams.

The pair's body-language and pace - softness and synchronicity presenting the image of not rivals at war, but instead a lusty wife and her willing and submissive babysitter. A donning of demand and deference that each looked to take as Brenda spread her legs and reached down to her brunette neighbor's shoulders to brace herself.

"That's right... That's right... You good little bitch." As Brenda praised, Sammy pushed. Diving deeper and deeper into the pussy of the wife who stood before her. Lapping at it, like a kitten with a fresh bowl of milk. Skewering it, again and again with her tongue - each such intrusion drawing a quaking moan from the bliss-lost blonde.

"You...You want him. You want him soOoOo bad, you hateful little cunt." The words were true. They were known. And yet in their speaking, Brenda drove herself deeper into fantasy and fetish.

No, she wouldn't give Mark up. No, she wouldn't abandon her claim. But their trist. Their tangle. Their sexual duel for her husband turned her on and excited her beyond both measure and reason. Even more, after hearing Lauren's tale.

So much was on the line, in a feud like her's with Samantha.

So much was at risk in every touch and every word.

Anything could happen there, in the depths of their battle. A single twist could take her to tragedy. A solitary curve could sweep her to an unforgettable and threat-ending victory.

Dagger-tip balanced though the moment was, as Mark's sensuality-diverted wife stood and chirped in delicate, bouncing moans and whimpers. Her eyes closed tight and her feet sinking into the soft, comforter-made bed beneath her. All she could think about was Samantha's tongue and lips and how badly she wanted them to continue in their attention.

Despite that desire - that animalistic need that seemed to mount and multiply - tug and thunder through the defending wife like a bolt from the heavens, she pulled herself back. From the edge and the brink of an onrushing orgasm so she could spring her trap.

A trap Brenda concocted when first Sammy called her to the bed.

Back into a fight she had to wage - a war she had to win, even if in any other moment or context she would have thrown herself to the starving dogs of lust and passion. She doing so by moving her shoulder-placed hand to Sammy's hair and pulling. Hard and angled in such a way that the force sent the brunette back from her placement on her knees to her back on the bed.

In an instant Sammy knew. What had happened and how she had been tricked. Tricked into distraction and now displacement. The young, Mark-obsessed neighbor girl immediately moving to try and sit up. But even in her speed, before she could lift off of the comforter, Brenda was upon her. The blonde wife of he who was prize sitting upon the brunette's chest, just below her breasts, in a mirror of what had been done in reverse before.

"You lying b-!!" Enraged, Sammy sought to insult and curse. "Mmnnnppphhh" But before she could speak in full and in fury, Brenda cut her off. Planting her own palm over the jealous neighbor girl's lips, though not her nose.

The blonde not wanting to smother, but quiet and muffle. The once again focused thirty-something wanting a moment of peace as she leaned back, and then reached with her free hand. Not to pinch or slap - hurt or harm. No, for she had only one thing in mind.

Now that she had her rival trapped between her legs.

Now that she had her pinned, arms and all.

"Now, you jealous little slut." Brenda began, as beneath her Samantha squirmed and shouted into palm.

"I'm going to show you what you should have done when you had me down." Without response, at least one that could be made out, the blonde continued both her words and working. The former to her seemingly helpless rival and the latter her fingers down and into the crevice between the thick thighs of the same.

"MMmmmnnnnppphhh!! Mmmmnnnnppphhh!!" Again and again Samantha tried to protest, both in muted and palm-muffled screams and with legs that fought to close tight.

But it was too late.

Too late to reason or argue.

Too late to evict fingers which had already found their ground. A warm, wet, stimulus-hungry ground that seized around those fingers that entered and began to stroke. Brenda's digits sliding deep within already-glistening lips. Lips which played curtain to a play Shakespeare might have written.

Sorrow and happiness.

Tragedy and titillation.

All acted out by experienced, talented fingers that knew just where to search and just where to strike. Lessons learned and deftness earned that could be seen in Samantha's eyes. Which softened from their hateful, wicked glare to glazed, unfocused roll. Not from one side, up, and then over, but back and into her head as the pleasure welling within her began to multiply and then divide within her like a disease.

An equation of sexual mastery that the once-defeated youth could not resist, though she wanted to with every fiber of her being.

"Thank you for that, by the way." Brenda teased as she continued to finger fuck her focus-broken brunette rival. "For eating me on command. We might just have to keep you on as our babysitter. What do you think...?"