tagLesbian SexWhen Life Starts Ch. 02

When Life Starts Ch. 02

byRivals_Rapture©

Sub-Chapter 1:

["So, Rheena... Ready for round 2?"] Tuesday 8:32 AM

["Rheena?"] Tuesday 9:55 AM

["Come on, Rheena"] Tuesday 9:18 PM

["Don't even think for a second you can just ignore me, and not give me a rematch"] Wednesday 6:05 PM

["Rheena, you bitch. Answer meeeeee!!"] Thursday 2:27 PM

I swear it felt like I sent her a hundred texts, and though it was really just a handful, her silence was still just as irritating. Not just the silence though, the fact that, as far as I could tell, she didn't even read the messages I sent. Instead, they just sat there, all sad and pathetic, with the normally bright blue checkmarks next to them grayed out and lifeless.

I know what you're thinking: 'oh god, single white female, obsessing over a one-off'. And while you're thinking that, you're picturing me eating carton after carton of Ben & Jerry's ice cream while waiting for a reply that will never come. I don't blame you though, as that's kinda what I felt like.

But really, think about it. Day one. Day fucking one in the emerald city, I found myself defeated, punished, and then ignored. Lame! Lame I say!

But hey, in the sexfighting game, that kinda stuff just happens, and actually, more often than you'd think. It isn't my style, but for others, after just one match, the thrill is gone. They trash talk, threaten, meet, and in one glorious confrontation, purge every ounce of sexual interest they have in you - win or lose, they're done.

For me, yeah the first time is great and intense, but the second time, and the third, the fourth and the fifth are just so awesome. When you have learned every inch of each other's bodies; every fetish, every trigger, every special little spot that makes your opponent squeal. God, that's when sexfighting is just ... incredible...

But as common as the 'cum-n-go' routine was, I couldn't help but want a second chance. Not just to come out on top, but to feel Rheena's body against mine again. To lock lips, press breasts, and cross thighs with my caramel-hued doppelgänger.

Why? Well, duh! Because it felt so good when we did it the first time! Plus, I just wanted to know— needed to know, if that smokey-eyed beauty's victory was just the first in a back and forth war of sexual attrition or legit proof that she was just straight up better than me. But as day after day passed without her texting me back, I began to at least try to forget about her, and my hopes for a round 2. After all, I had something else to focus on, my upcoming first day at my new job.

New, not only because it was going to be MY first day there, but in that it was EVERYONE's first day there. It was a new business venture, from those two twin billionaires whose names were on everything now: the Bowmans. And though I did know who my employers would be, I really didn't have a lot more info than that.

It was had something to do with entertainment, live audiences, and television. And though I knew those bullet points, I didn't know anything else. Was it ice skating? A cooking show? A talk show? I had no idea, but whatever it was, I was ready for it - at least I thought I was. At least, that's what I told Ms. Windgate, the dean of my alma mater, Penngrove University.

"Trust me," she said, "the pay will be good. The job security: excellent. And the perks ... well ... suited for a graduate of this institution." Was it oddly secretive? Yes. Overly dramatic in a comically Penngrove way? Sure. But too much of both to take a chance? Not even close.

So I told her I'd take it, marched out of her office, drove home singing excitedly to Taylor Swift's newest hate-track, and that night, started to pack. I remember it was only about a day later that an overnight envelope arrived with a moving bonus, a check with more zeros on it than I had ever seen before. Zeros that got me to where I was, not only to the other side of the country but one restless night away from clocking in. You know, if clocking in was even what we were going to do. I didn't know, but not too very long after that moment, I would.

-------

Sub-Chapter 2

"Excuse me," I said with a smile. "Sorry. Excuse me." I repeated again and again, as I - as WE sorted ourselves into the leather and metal chairs placed in rows in a large conference room on the 30th floor in downtown Seattle. And when I say 'we,' I mean myself and about 15 other women, most of us young, but with a few more mature ladies scattered in there. There, as we each looked for whatever seat would give us the least amount of anxiety, I listened, wanting to know if anyone knew exactly what kind of job we were lining up for.

But, everyone seemed to be just as clueless as me. "Do you know?" "No." "Hmm, I wonder what it could be..." They whispered and muttered, as I remained quiet. Not wanting to insert myself into anything, before I knew the landscape and my role in it.

I seemed to be alone in that tactic, except for one other girl. She, like me, was a blonde, though platinum to my strawberry, and sat in the back row (though on the opposite side) silently. Unlike me though, her gaze was confident, piercing, and almost predatory. Her sapphire-blue eyes seeming to capture me, every time I happened to catch a glimpse of them. A glimpse I seemed to seek out again and again, until after she caught me staring at her for like the fifth or sixth time. That was when I had to stop myself by just staring blankly at my phone.

But even when I found the strength to avoid looking at her crystal gaze, I found myself admiring the tattoos on her arms, which like her hair and eyes, popped with vibrancy and color. Then it was her body that got me. She was curvy in exactly the right places, but not someone that could ever be described as thick - a descriptor I often found myself stuck with.

God, she was ... just so unlike me, and there was something enticing about that. My interest in her helped me take my mind off of not knowing what was about to happen. But just as I began to come up with a plan on how to do anything other than stare at my platinum muse across the room and drool, the door behind our seats opened, and a familiar voice spoke.

"Ladies, sorry about being late." In a second I knew, without even needing to turn around. It was Rheena. "We just made an important signing, and it left us needing to rework some of our plans." As she spoke, she moved from behind us to the front of the room. Her hourglass hips and sexy thighs covered in a short gray skirt. Her breasts, which she had drug so wonderfully over mine, concealed with a salmon pink blouse.

"Now, I'm sure you're all wondering what you signed up for, so let's..." As she found her position at a brand new podium at the front of the room, she positioned her tablet, so that she could see her notes. But mid-sentence, she looked up, and that's when our eyes locked and my conqueror suddenly found herself speechless.

"I uh..." She tried to start and then sputtered out, unable to pry her gaze away from mine. It was then, that despite the entirety of the last week... In the face of all of the unanswered texts I sent... I knew - I could tell, that she hadn't lost interest in me. And so I teased her - tortured her, giving her the sexiest looks I could, as I pursed my lips and began to eye-fuck her right there and right then. Shifting my sexy, black-skirt-exposing hips so that I faced her.

The room was soooo awkwardly silent, with all those other women just staring at Rheena, but despite all of that, she was MINE. A fact I became more confident in as again and again she tried to restart her speech - to look back down at her tablet and away from me, but every time she would lift her gaze, our eyes would meet, our souls connect, and she would freeze.

That moment of sexual tension and distraction between us continued, until finally, I broke our connection by looking down at my phone again, and away from Rheena. Now admittedly, it was super unprofessional of me to try so hard to keep her attention, but after the week she had just put me through? I didn't care.

"S-sorry. I ... uh ... know you're all wondering what ... uh..." Even with my gaze removed as a distraction, just the memory of it seemed to put Rheena off her game, an effect that made me smile as I readied myself to take notes.

"Wrestling." Rheena then blurted out sharply, unable to make it through her planned phrasing. "Not all of you... I mean, you ladies won't be wrestling... You'll be helping us put on a wrestling show. And no, before you ask or worry, Vince McMahon won't be joining me up here..." As she spoke, I adjusted by hot, red blouse, making sure that my girls were ready for her, if she dared look back in my direction.

Instead, Rheena kept her eyes to the side of the conference room holding the platinum blonde who had so thoroughly stolen my soul before our meeting began."And he won't be here, because we're a starting a new promotion. A new wrestling company. All of you, will be our writers, except ... uh ... for..."

Rheena's speaking stopped again, and when it did, I looked up and saw her seeming to double check what she just read. Whatever it was, affecting her like she had just been punched in the stomach. "Brooke. She..." She began, pretending she hadn't just said the name of a girl she facesat a week ago. "...will be our liaison with the talent, which is what our wrestlers are called, at least on this end of the curtain. Now, I know that this is a surprise to most of you, so I'd like to hear any questions you may have." Rheena, finally seeming to have recovered, looked out at all of us, her new staff, intentionally avoiding eye contact with me.

"Does that mean we get to meet Dwayne Johnson? He's cute." A woman in her late thirties asked. "Yes he is!" Another added, though I didn't catch where she was sitting.

"Sorry to say, but no. We will only be having female talent on the shows. So no Rock... Maybe his daughter though, when she's old enough." As Rheena answered, she smiled softly, an expression I hadn't seen from her yet.

"My boyfriend likes indie wrestling; you know the kind in cafeterias and bingo halls. Is that what we'll be putting on?" The question stirred a worried murmur to spread through the rest of the girls.

"No. Austin and Bennett - the Bowmans, have made sure we are VERY well-funded. Also, and I'm sure this was going to be another question, we already have a 10 year TV deal signed, and not with some channel you've never heard of; it's with ABC. Not one of their smaller channels, but their main broadcast channel." As she laid out what she and they had planned, I couldn't help but exchange my well-practiced resting bitch face, for a wide, beaming, pussy-eating-grin.

Why? Well, because I, and don't faint when you read this, had been a wrestling fan since I was a little girl. Cheering and booing along with my father, each of us wearing the t-shirts of our favorite wrestlers. My mother always thought and hoped I'd grow out of it, but I never really did. Which made me one of the few female wrestling fans in Massachusetts, or, you know ... the world, over the age of 12.

But from that day on, I'd be the one making the wrestling show little girls like me watched. God, just the thought of it made me tear up, which gave me a reason to be happy Rheena was refusing to look in my direction. Even if it meant that she had to awkwardly look at only half of her new staff.

But that awkwardness - HER awkwardness did little to lessen the warm glow of excitement I felt. One which lasted basically all the way through our meeting. At the ending of which, Rheena gave each us our instructions for the next day, the official start day of our work.

Having finished, Rheena remained at the front of the conference room and chatted - answering any questions that those in attendance might still have. As she did, I moved to the back of the room, next to the coffee and snack table by the door, waiting for my caramel-skinned goddess. But as I waited, the tattooed blonde girl from the back row, and my earlier day-dreams walked over and introduced herself.

"You're Brooke, I take it." She said with a knowing smirk.

"Uh, yeah, how did you know that?" After searching my chest for a name tag, and my memory for an introduction, I asked.

"I'm Rheena's assistant, Sarah." She answered without mystery, as she turned, and leaned against the table next to me. Her outfit nearly identical to mine, apart from the color of our blouses — mine red and hers white.

"Hi, Sarah..." I greeted my new co-worker and my earlier obsession, my mind immediately analyzing what her being Rheena might mean to me. Was she my boss? Had they slept together? Did she catch me and Rheena's moment of eye-fucking tension?

"Rheena's incredible isn't she?" Again, this girl - this Sarah, seemed to be reading my mind and then telling me about what she found there.

"Are you friends with her outside of work?" I asked, trying not only to deflect but to find an answer to the questions I asked myself.

"I wouldn't say friends, but I knew her before we started this project. Judging by that look between you two, I'm not the only one." With every word, I felt like she was testing me. Now typically, that would have made me feel uncomfortable, but something about her demeanor created more excitement and intrigue in me than worry or concern.

"Why don't we get a couple of drinks after this, and have a meeting of the Rheena Admiration Society?" I offered playfully, though I kept my eyes glued to Rheena as she spoke to the quickly shrinking gathering around her.

"Deal. Catch me when you and Rheena have ... uh ... talked." I guess it was obvious - I was distracted, and not yet fully ready to focus on her or the conversation she wanted to have.

Really, it was sweet of her — of Sarah, to not push for my attention; instead just letting me lean there by the door, and wait for Rheena. And instead of waiting there next to me, Sarah stepped away and began talking to a few of the other girls our age. The pretty ones. The sexy ones.

And while Sarah began her rounds, Rheena seemed to be rapping hers up. My mesmerizing ethnic goddess nodding, smiling and then making her way towards the door to my right. I had hoped, that free of the confines of the meeting, she would greet me, and that finally, we could talk. But instead, she just lowered her gaze to the carpet and walked right past me.

Like a hungry lioness, I tracked her, letting the door close behind us both as I half-chased her down the hall. Step after step she started walking faster and faster, and in response, I matched her speed. Until finally, she reached what I assumed to be her office, and then with a quick reach, and a turn of the handle, she entered.

I was half-nervous she was going to slam the door shut, and again, cut me out, but instead, she held the door open, waiting for me to come inside. After I did, and as I cleared the door, she shut it forcefully, and then turned to me, her eyes burning with intensity.

"What the FUCK are you doing here, Brooke?" She demanded, though she and I both knew why.

That knowledge didn't stop me from responding, my heart already pounding in my chest, just from being alone with her. "Uh ... I work here now, Rheena. How did you NOT know that when we met last week...?"

"I wasn't involved in the hiring! Sarah handled that! I didn't..." Before she could finish, I stepped closer to her, maybe about a foot away, and asked, my voice heavy with the excitement that coursed through my veins.

"Why didn't you respond to my messages?" As the words left my lips, my left hand raised to her blouse, and after my fingers landed softly, they pinched a small bit of the fabric. I couldn't tell you why, nor did I do it consciously, it was done on instinct, instead, something about the question making me want to keep a hold on her.

"Look, I've been busy with putting all of this together. I had a speech, that I ... I couldn't even get out with you ... you ... looking at me like you were." In both of us, I could feel the same sense of mania - the same sense of fear. Emotions that seemed to have built in our time that had passed since our first encounter. Feelings born of a sexual competition unlike any we had ever had before. But where she was doing her best to suppress what she was feeling, I was trying as hard as I possibly could to drag the same out of her.

"You mean when I looked at you like this..." Mid-sentence, I let my expression and gaze change until it matched perfectly those that stole her words and kept her from delivering her well-practiced speech.

In an instant she turned from me, pulled free of my light grip, and then retreated deeper into her windowless office, rushing towards her desk. I chased after her, grabbed her shoulders, and spun her around to face me. In her eyes I saw equal parts terror and desire, her entire body almost trembling from the effects of both. Wanting to intensify those feelings, and truly own her in that moment, I leaned in, placed my lips to her ear, and after the quickest of nibbles: whispered.

"Round 2, Rheena. Give it to me..." My challenge having been made, I pulled back and looked at Rheena. Expecting to see either a worsening of her already panicked state or a desire so deep and needful, that within a moment we would be locked in a passionate kiss. But instead I saw something else, that same fire I saw after she beat me. A look of confidence, control, and ownership.

It was then that my expression changed, my eyes going wide as Rheena reached out to my shoulders, and with her hands, pushed me down to my knees on her carpeted corporate floor. With me there, and with her right hand moving to my dirty blonde hair, she pulled my face forward into her still skirt-covered mound.

"You want around two, slut? Fucking earn it..." Her voice sounded more like a hiss, or a growl, but despite the sudden change of tone, I knew exactly what she wanted. Was it fair to basically punish me again for my loss in our first encounter? Meh, not really. But if finding my face pressed between her thighs and my tongue buried in her hot, wet sex was the worst thing I had to do to get Rheena body against mine again, I was willing. So willing, in fact, that without words, I reached up, lifted her skirt, and then pushed her already moistened pink panties to the side. Then, with my canvas free, I began to paint my masterpiece, using my tongue to please my fealty-demanding conqueror.

"Shit! You good little bitch..." Rheena praised at first contact, as she closed her eyes, and spread her thighs for me, leaning her ass against the edge of her black glass and gray-metal desk. Such words were only the first signs of her enjoyment, but after they came so many, as I wrapped my arms around her, and pulled her sex closer to me.

Yes, I could have rushed, and tried to batter with my tongue all the spots I memorized last time, but I wanted her to enjoy. To remember. To never even think about ignoring my texts again. But as I tried to steal every ounce of control Rheena believed she had. Taking her deeper and deeper into my own special brew of Brooke-brought pleasure, the door to her office suddenly opened.

"Mmmm, well, well, well, Rheena; I'm glad to see you're working hard on your team building exercises." A teasingly smarmy voice came from the entrance to my rival's office. And when I heard it, all I felt was terror. Absolute friggin' terror. A sensation so intense it caused me to freeze. Not after standing or pulling away from Rheena's sex, but just as I had been when the voice called out to the owner of the kitty I was caught licking.

I didn't know what to do other than just stop, and sit there on my knees. My hope being that somehow, someway, Rheena would get rid of this person before I had to turn and let them see my face. In that desperate hope, I listened, waiting for Rheena to say something, ANYTHING even! But as my tongue slowly withdrew from her sweet lips to mine, and as her juices mixed with my saliva began to dry on my face, I heard nothing. Nothing other than this woman, whoever she was, continue to talk.

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