tagLoving WivesThe Cat Fight

The Cat Fight

byEnglish Bob©

There's only one thing that my wife Paula enjoys more than shopping, and that's shopping for a bargain. Auctions, sale grounds or promotions; she's always first in line with a wad of notes ready to buy! Fortunately, I'm not a poor man, and so indulging Paula in her little obsession is easy and to be fair, her usual purchases - mainly clothes and shoes - are extremely stylish. Paula has a great dress sense and enjoys wearing sexy clothes that compliment her figure. Although she only stands 5 ft 4 in her stockinged feet, she has beautiful flowing black hair typical of her native Italy and a fiery temperament to match. I usually manage to avoid accompanying her on these bargain hunting excursions, and simply reap the benefits of her purchases later, but on this occasion I was not so lucky - or maybe I was, it depends on your point of view!

It was a typical August Saturday afternoon; hot and sultry with the pervading sense of laziness that usually accompanies that sort of weather. My chores almost finished, I was looking forward to settling in front of the TV with a beer to watch a football game.

"Hey, look at this, Dave!" Paula shouted as she ran into the garden brandishing the local paper. "There's a huge sale at Heal's Store in Ratcliffe!"

I groaned inwardly. One of Paula's few failings is that she doesn't drive and Ratcliffe was over ten miles away - guess who would have to drive her there!

"But the football!" I pleaded, "it's a big game!"

It was useless, I knew. Once Paula started snuggling up to me and nibbling my ear and neck, the subtle scent of her perfume flitting around my nostrils, I was an easy touch!

"Please, Dave," she murmured into my ear, "I'll make it worth your while later!"

Her hand dropped to the crotch of my pants and gave me a quick squeeze. I was instantly erect and completely at her mercy. My hand crept out and felt the swell of her firm breast through the thin material of her t-shirt - she wasn't wearing a bra.

"Uh, uh! Down boy! You'll have to wait until later, the sale starts in an hour!"

So, that was it. Thirty minutes later, and still with a hard-on I could have used as a club, I found myself behind the wheel of my Jaguar heading towards Ratcliffe. In anticipation of a bargain, Paula is always excited. Today was no exception and she fidgeted in her seat, played with the radio and talked constantly until we arrived at the sale ground.

"Come with me!" Announced Paula as she swung her long, sexy legs out of the car. "You can help me carry what I buy."

Dejectedly and with hands thrust deep into pockets, I followed her inside.

The store had decided to hold the sale in a large hall adjacent to the main shop. As I entered, slightly behind my wife, I looked around. The room was like a vast aircraft hanger with tables and stalls set out in a haphazard fashion all displaying their wares. It was hot and crowded with shoppers, the large ceiling fans doing little to allay the stifling temperature. In general, people were not wearing much, but Paula being Paula hadn't even changed out of her house clothes. She wore the same t-shirt (still bra-less, I could see) and a pair of cut-off jeans that barely covered the swell of her buttocks. I knew that she rarely wore underwear around the house and doubted if she wore any now.

With me in tow, Paula began to scope out the stalls and tables, moving swiftly to avoid the competition, picking up a skirt here or a blouse there. I tried to keep up with her, but my wife is a professional shopper and I was quickly left behind losing her in the throng of customers that swarmed around the room like bees. Eventually I found a stall that sold coffee - much more my style - and, purchasing a Styrofoam cup of hot, brown liquid, I lit a Marlboro and decided to wait.

I was on to my second cigarette when I heard my wife's voice. Her shout was so loud that I heard it from way across the other side of the hall. She was angry with somebody, that much was certain but from where I was, I couldn't see who. I decided to investigate and, dropping the cup of coffee-like substance into the trash, I made my way over to the other side of the room to where Paula's voice had come from.

The far side of the room seemed to house all the stalls that sold designer clothes and foot-ware. I guessed this would be where I would find Paula. As I thought, I could hear her voice before I could see her.

"Take your hands off that, you bitch! I saw it first!"

Obviously an argument over an item of clothing, I thought. Quite a crowd had gathered around my wife and her counterpart and it was difficult to see what was happening. The raised voices I had heard had turned into screams of anger from my wife and the other woman. I knew that it wouldn't be too long before Paula's fiery temper got the better of her and the fists started to fly.

I wasn't wrong. As I managed to push my way through the mass of people that had gathered, I was just in time to see Paula's open hand lash out and strike the other woman's face. For a moment, all was quiet. It was as if the slim blonde couldn't quite work out what had happened, she simply stood there looking at Paula with a confused expression and a red hand print creeping over her face. Then, all of a sudden, the truth seemed to hit her.

"You fucking little bitch!" she screamed, "you're not getting away with that!"

And then all hell broke loose. Both women were pulling at each others hair and screaming obscenities as the blouse they had been arguing about dropped, forgotten to the floor. I guess I should have tried to stop the fight, but to be honest, with the crowd closing in, I couldn't even get close to them. People were shouting and cheering the women on as a full-blown cat-fight ensued. I heard a tearing sound and looked at the blonde woman to see the light blouse she wore rip down the middle under Paula's strong grip. She had on a white, lace bra that still remained intact but somehow got pushed up in the struggle to reveal a small, pert titty. Paula saw the exposed flesh as well and instinctively knew where to attack next.

"Owwww...get your fucking hands off my tits, you lezzie!" the blonde cried as Paula's fingers pinched her nipple cruelly.

This pain seemed to spur the blonde into further action and within a few seconds my wife's t-shirt was ripped from her body leaving her naked from the waist upwards. But Paula was much smaller than her assailant and, slowly but surely, I could see that the blonde was getting the upper hand in the fight. Paula was still holding onto the woman's breast for all she was worth, but as they both tumbled to the floor it became obvious that my wife was losing. With a surge of effort the blonde managed to pin Paula to the floor and, with her knees on either side of her body, sat astride her.

"This will teach you, you little slut!" she said, laughing at my helpless, semi-nude wife.

"Get off me you bitch, you fucking whore!"

Ignoring Paula's insulting diatribe, the larger woman slapped my wife's left breast with an open hand. The crowd were still cheering as the tit-flesh trembled and began to turn pink under the attack. Paula struggled hard but, try as she might, she couldn't shift the weight of the woman atop her body.

"Call me a fucking whore, would you?" the blonde continued, "well, lets find out how pure you are, slut!"

With one swift movement, she reached down and ripped the front of Paula's shorts. The material seemed to tear easily away under her ministrations. Along with the crowd I gasped out when I realised that I had been correct - Paula had come out without any underwear on! The blonde's hand went straight to my wife's pussy and roughly forced two fingers into her.

"I think it's you that is the whore, honey. Only a real tramp would come out without panties on!" She said as she brutally pumped her fingers into my wife's snatch.

Paula was still struggling, but the odd moan and whimper that escaped her lips and the drops of moisture that had formed on her labia told a different story - it was becoming obvious that she was actually enjoying the assault! Soon the moans turned into gasps and the whimpers were replaced by sighs of contentment as she continued to get her pussy fingered. Everyone could see that her nipples had stiffened visibly and that there was an excited flush to her facial complexion.

The blonde seemed encouraged by my wife's reaction and began pumping her fingers in a deep rhythmical action; turning and twisting the digits to elicit a favourable response. And the response was indeed favourable. Paula squealed delightfully and her legs fell open to allow the woman deeper access to her body. Her hands went to her breasts, pulling and pinching her pebble-like nipples as she soared higher and higher towards an inevitable climax. Both women seemed totally oblivious to the fact that they were being watched by a crowd of people.

But, it seemed, not all the spectators were happy with the display they were witnessing. With the arrival of a uniformed guard, it appeared that somebody had called security.

"Come on you two! Break all this up now!"

Paula was breathing hard and looked to be fast approaching an orgasm. To say that she was disappointed by the interruption would have been understating it. But the security guard was a big man with a gun and neither the blonde, or Paula seemed about to argue. Taking both women by the arm he hauled them both to their feet.

"Right, you two, you're coming with me!"

As he started to frog-march the two nearly naked women towards a small side office I stepped forward.

"Actually, she's with me!" I said.

The guard looked at me incredulously, obviously wondering how I could allow my wife to behave so badly in public - to be honest, I was asking myself much the same question but it had been one weird afternoon! As he stared at me, the guard must have loosened his grip on the blonde's arm. It could only have been for a second, but it was enough. With her small, perky tits jiggling wildly, the liberated woman took her chance and ran. Through the laughing crowd that was dispersing, she finally made it to the door and out into the hot summer afternoon. The guard hardly seemed to know what to do until he suddenly realised that he still had one prisoner in his charge.

"In here" he growled to Paula and I indicating the small office.

The room was quiet compared to the sale room, but still quite hot and stuffy. A single fan oscillated and fluttered a few papers that lay strewn on an old wooden desk. As soon as the door closed and the three of us were alone, the guard spoke to me.

"Why didn't you stop them, man?"

"He wouldn't fucking dare!" interrupted Paula before I had a chance to speak. "He could see that I was about to cum! You would as well if you'd been bothered to look! She almost spat the words at the poor, confused man.


He looked directly at Paula, it seemed that he was only just beginning to realise that, apart from her deck shoes, she was completely naked.

"Stop fucking stuttering and get your dick out!" Paula cried. "As you interrupted us, the least you can do is finish the job that bitch started!"

When the large man still seemed unable to move, Paula decided to take matters into her own hands.

"Here, let's get your cock out for you!" she said as she unzipped his uniform pants quickly.

"Down with your shorts! Lets see if you can measure up, shall we?"

Within moments the guard was naked from the waist down with a good sized cock standing to attention in front of him. I felt a bit "surplus to requirements" but, as Paula was having so much fun and my own cock was straining against my underwear, I decided not to interfere.

Paula stroke the guards shaft with her cool, delicate fingers, kneeling close to him and licking the tip from time to time as he gasped out loud. Finally, she seemed happy that he was hard enough and stood back from him.

"Time to fuck this little slut!" she cried as she bent herself over the wooden desk. "Give Paula the orgasm that you stopped earlier!"

It was more of an order than a request, a fact that was obviously not lost on the guard who seemed happier now that instructions were being shouted at him.

Paula was bent nicely over the small desk with her pert little bottom in the air. It was obvious that she wanted to get fucked from behind. Standing the other side of the desk, close to her head, I watched the guard as he moved behind her and with one thrust, stuffed the entire length of his dick into my wife's sopping pussy. She groaned deeply as he penetrated her and I suddenly saw a perfect opportunity for her now open mouth. Quickly dropping my pants and shorts, I pushed my throbbing erection towards her parted lips. Her eyes were closed but she must have sensed my proximity because her lips opened further and allowed me to enter her oral orifice.

As I used her pretty mouth solely for my own pleasure, it seemed that the guard was doing the same with her vagina. Her whole body was being pushed back and forth by his deep, penetrating thrusts that aided me getting further down her throat. Suddenly I felt Paula's body tense and her throat close tighter over my swollen cock. I looked up and watched as the guard withdrew his twitching weapon and began to spurt over her buttocks. With one finger began to work the sticky liquid into her tight butt-hole and this was what was causing her to cum.

Her body shook and trembled as her back passage was invaded by the man's thick digit. I could feel her throat contract as she moaned deeply but, with my hands in her hair, I just kept ramming my tool into her. And then it happened for me as well. With my wife still trembling in the afterglow of her climax, I held her head tight and emptied myself into her mouth. There seemed to be no end to my seed as it pumped up my shaft in great surges and erupted between her painted lips. Paula tried to swallow as much as she could, but I just kept cumming, eventually smearing her face and hair with the viscous liquid.

With Paula's face, pussy and ass covered in our combined jism, the guard and I looked at each other.

"Er..my name's Jim" he eventually said, awkwardly.

"Dave." I replied, "good to meet you!"

"And this?" continued Jim, indicating the sperm covered woman still sprawled on the table.

"This?" I said, "This is Paula. My wife and, I think, now my slut!"

"Who are you calling a slut?" breathed Paula between gasps of air. "You know what happens when someone calls me a slut! Now, where's that blouse I wanted to buy?"

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