The Right Choice - Part 1

**Catharsis** · September 16th, 2017, 10:05 AM

Someone else insisted on narrating this. She tends to get her way when she sets her mind on something.

"The Right Choice"
by "Allison Parker" (as told to Catharsis)

People say I'm a risk taker, or that I make crazy decisions on the spur of the moment. I'm really not that way. Honest. I just get this sense that things will work out all right, and I follow it. To tell the truth, I think the absolute best experiences you can possibly have in life all come from listening to that instinct, and I know I'm not the only person who believes that. In fact, my life story is proof of that.

Like most people, when I tell people how I got to be who I am, I always gloss over a bunch of details. Right now, though, I'm going to confess the whole thing. Those bits I normally leave out include the exact times when my life could have gone in different directions, but I made a choice. Maybe when you hear them they'll help you understand how I recognized which choice to make each time. Until today, only two other human beings have known the full story, and I hope they won't mind me telling the tale like this, because they both feature prominently in it. The knack for choosing the road to happiness is too good not to share.

**********

Part 1

The first big fork in my life's path happened my senior year of high school. My parents decided to visit some relatives they hadn't seen in a couple years. They stuffed me and my older sister Caroline in the SUV and drove for four hours. They were buzzing happily in anticipation the whole way, and Caroline was excited because she'd get to hang out with her cousin Samantha who was the same age. I couldn't have cared less about the whole deal. My aunt's house wasn't even in the small town we were going to. Her faded blue rambler sat on a slope practically in farm country. To top it off, we weren't even going to be staying in a motel overnight.

"Aunt Miriam's got plenty of room," my mother said. As if.

My parents got the guest room, and Caroline and I were supposed to make ourselves comfortable in the basement, where they'd set up some military surplus cots. I asked my Dad if this was a joke.

"It's just for one night," he said, giving me a look that meant discussion was over. Like that made it any better. I didn't want to spend one more minute in that funky-smelling, painted cinder block cellar than I had to. My sister and I dropped our luggage next to our cots and then joined everyone else for a late lunch out on the patio.

After we finished eating, the parents stayed there drinking wine and talking adult stuff. Samantha led Caroline and I through the house to show us her room. It was surprisingly large, but that was due to the fact it had been originally intended to be a den or office. The center of it was dominated by a queen-sized bed jutting from the middle of one wall, with Samantha's desk and dresser in opposite corners.

We sat on the floor and had a pleasant conversation. Well, Samantha and Caroline did. I guess it was pleasant. They weren't really including me. I started scanning the room for something to occupy myself with. There were no books, and no games, video or otherwise, either. Just sports stuff -- a basketball, a bunch of softball gear, and trophies. Nothing that interested me. Just when I was thinking of going out to wander around the yard, a guest arrived.

In walked Brooke. Brooke Marx, Samantha's next door neighbor. About an inch shorter than me, kinda skinny, with brown hair shaved close on the sides and back, and a big mop of it on top parted to the side. Wearing a black jacket over a black t-shirt for some band I didn't know, beat up jeans, a wide belt with diamond-shaped silver studs on it, and what looked to me like hiking boots. Amber eyes, multiply-pierced ears, a stud through her nose, and a mouth that seemed a bit oversized for her face.

Samantha introduced us all, and to my relief the next hour or so of chatting involved all four of us. Brooke turned out to be eighteen as well, a few months older than I was, and much closer than the three year gap to my sister. She worked full time and occasionally on weekends, but had the day off that Saturday. She had a roughness to her voice, the kind that normally comes from regular smoking, but she said she didn't and never had. Despite her punkish looks, she was really laid back and was genuinely interested in my and Caroline's tales from the city we lived in.

During a slight pause in our chat and without any provocation, Samantha kicked her foot lightly into Caroline's leg. "So, cousin," she said, "When're you going to tame that mane of yours?"

My sister's blond hair at that time was rather long, about down to the middle of her back, with good amount of volume. She took a lot of time in the morning each day getting it all styled and sprayed. Samantha, by contrast, had shoulder-length blond hair which she kept straight and often bunched in a ponytail. Mine was as it always has been: black with red highlights, parted to one side, and collar length in the back.

Caroline drawled out her reply, "Soon as you learn what fashion sense is."

I stared at the two of them. Were they being serious? Samantha was studying Caroline's reaction, but my sister was staring casually at a vacant spot up on the wall. Brooke just raised an eyebrow.

"Fit is the new thin, Caroline dear."

"Oh, did last year's magazines finally get delivered out here?"

"Indeed, but it seems you still haven't gotten the message."

"Oh, I got it, cousin of mine."

"Care to prove it?"

Now Caroline's head turned towards Samantha. She nodded toward the shelf with all the trophies. "All that running around you do isn't gonna help you for shit."

Both women were sporting wicked grins. My heart started beating faster. They'd planned something before we'd arrived. I couldn't for the life of me guess what it was.

"Take off your shoes, honey, you're going down."

Both began untying their laces, never dropping those unnerving smiles. To my utter surprise, Caroline looked right at me and said, "You, too."

"What?" I said stupidly. My hands grabbed for my right sneaker out of the ingrained habit of following my older sister's commands, but I paused, unsure whether to continue. Samantha flung her cross trainers under the bed and then hopped upon it on hands and knees.

"Oh, yeah!" Brooke said, figuring out what was going on way before I could, and began undoing her shoe laces.

Samantha sat back on her haunches and bellowed, "Queen of the Mountain!"

I sat there frozen on the floor with a complete WTF on my face. Samantha read it, and decided to be helpful.

"It's a free for all. Last one still on the bed is the queen."

That explanation was nice of her, but that wasn't what my brain was trying to comprehend right then. My cousin wasn't kidding, and neither was my sister who made short work of her tennis shoes. Dumping them under the bed, she threw me a look and barked, "C'mon!".

Scrambling but still not fully thinking clearly, I kicked off my shoes without untying them and placed them at the foot of the bed. Brooke joined me soon after, and nudged both her and my pair underneath the bed with her toes. I remember that she was wearing a thick pair of tan socks. I had plain old thin white ankle socks, and wondered if they were going to be adequate.

"Everybody to a corner," my sister ordered.

"Extra cushions over here," said Samantha. Brooke and I passed a trio of small pillows over, and Caroline arranged them above the two full-size pillows to pad the wooden headboard. While she did that, Samantha jumped off the bed and closed the door. I looked over at my sister. She saw the worry painted on my face, but just pursed her lips and gave me a "don't embarrass me" shake of her head.

Ashamed, I turned mine away. That caused me to look over to where Brooke was crouched. She'd taken her jacket off, and noticed a tattoo ringing her upper left arm just below the end of her short sleeves. She didn't appear too awfully strong, but I figured that she and Samantha might have practiced this game with each other before. Brooke caught the direction of my attention, tilted her head slightly, and checked me out from head to toe with her eyes. When she was done, we stayed staring at each other silently.

Samantha climbed back on the bed, and started the proceedings. "Remember, no nails, no punches. You can push with your feet, but no kicking or kneeing."

"Hair?" my sister asked.

Samantha looked over at Brooke and me. "You two don't have to." I shook no. Brooke shrugged her shoulders. Samantha pointed at Caroline. "OK, hair pulling is allowed between Miss Gorgeous here and I, but it's off limits for the other two, giving and receiving."

"Best of three rounds," my sister announced. It suddenly clicked with me why she'd worn a comfortable dark grey top instead of a blouse like she normally did. It wasn't just for the car trip.

Samantha started the count, and Caroline accompanied her midway through.

"Three. Two. One. Go!"

All four of us collided in the center of the bed like a multi-car pileup at a demolition derby. Hands were tugging at shirts and elbows bumped into heads and bodies. We teetered there for a few seconds, then Brooke broke off to move around the heap. Samantha had my sister's head in her midsection. She was leaning over Caroline's back with her arms surrounding my sister's waist. I stood up on the mattress and tried to pull her off. One of Samantha's arms came loose, but quickly dove back under Caroline. As I renewed my attack, my right leg flew out from under me. My chin hit Samantha's back, and she must have loosened her grip, because my sister managed to raise herself up a few inches.

I tried to regain my balance, but found my foot didn't want to move. Brooke was on her knees just behind me and had my pant leg firmly in her grasp. She was trying to haul me sideways and roll me off the bed. I held on even tighter. Samantha then let go of Caroline completely and tossed me aside. My sister got up from her crouch, cheeks already red, and brushed her hair out of her face. Brooke yanked her by the arm onto her side. Samantha pounced, pushing Caroline dangerously near the edge. I had barely sat back up when Brooke turned, lifted my feet up in the air, and sent me tumbling. I hit the floor and rolled to my knees in time to see Caroline slide off, pulling Samantha with her as she did so.

"Shit." "Damn it." the older pair cursed as they hit the ground. Brooke idled calmly on the bed. She'd done very little but ended up winning round one anyway.

We climbed back into our corners, ready for round two. I tried to read Caroline's expression as she sat in the opposite corner, but she was looking at Brooke. To my left, I saw Samantha aimed at me. It didn't take a military genius to figure out their strategies. Brooke and I must have made enough of a nuisance of ourselves that they both wanted us out of the picture first. I steeled myself to take on Samantha. I had a plan. I'd catch her shoulders as she charged and twist her off the side. It could work.

"Three. Two. One. Go!"

It didn't work. Samantha caught my arms and lifted them straight above my head like I was a posable doll. Her body slammed into mine. I felt her small but quite firm breasts flatten my larger pair. "Think you and your sister can team up against me, huh, little girl?" Then, with a strong shove, I went flying. It was no consolation to see that Brooke landed a moment or two before I did, but there she was, having been bulldozed off the end of the bed by Caroline, who was adjusting her shirt and turning to confront Samantha.

I spent the next few minutes watching an extremely spirited battle between my older sister and her cousin. They would lock up shoulder to shoulder on their knees and sway back and forth for a time, topple sideways and quickly break up, then repeat. Both of them were slipping on the comforter, but neither were able to capitalize. Samantha's pony tail had come undone, and Caroline had her hair in a tight grip. She retaliated, yanking on Caroline's blond tresses.

"Rrrgh!" my sister groaned.

"Can't take what you dish out, can you, missy?"

"You're not going to be smiling like that much longer."

Both were panting audibly now. Their muscles tensed as they poured all their strength into their private battle. Caroline's leg slipped again, this time sending her foot right at Brooke. It stayed there for a moment as Samantha bore down, preventing her from getting back up. Brooke grabbed the extended foot and started pulling.

"Hey!" I shouted. Brooke ignored me. Caroline's leg started sliding on the sheets.

I tackled Brooke, encircling her upper arms and chest with my hands. She yelled out, and started thrashing to get free. I constricted my tight hug and held her fast. The damage had been done, though. Caroline couldn't leverage her leg back onto the bed, and soon her foot hit the floor followed by the rest of her.

"Yo! Off me." growled Brooke. She shrugged my arms away to either side of her as I pulled myself backwards. As she did so, my fingers raked across her boobs. It was completely unintentional, but she fixed me with an evil glare as she spun around.

Brooke and I got back in our corners, never taking our eyes off each other. Samantha and Caroline took longer to recover, but eventually we were set for round three.

Caroline opened the bidding. "You're goin' down this time, Samantha dear."

Her cousin raised. "If I win this time, I'm queen."

My sister called. "If you lose, I am."

"Never happen, ya spray-tanned hussy."

"Redneck slut."

"Street-walkin' whore."

"Honky-tonk floozie."

Whether they were serious about the slurs they were hurling or not, I paid little attention. Throughout all their name calling, I kept my focus on Brooke, and she kept hers on me. She may not have been as strong as I was, but she had a keen edge to her. She had more experience using what she had than I did, and that made her dangerous. I stared her down, feeling an energy building inside of me. She was on her hands and knees. I could see right down the front of her shirt as it hung loosely on her. Her chest was expanding and contracting with heavier and heavier exhales as she prepared to launch herself into a fight with me and me alone.

Caroline and Samantha must have finished their playground war of words, because someone said "Go!" Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that they had paired up and were completely ignoring Brooke and me. That was good, because I needed all the concentration I could muster.

I flung myself at Brooke and met her halfway across the bed. Our arms collided, and her left hand swatted my face before it settled behind my head. She pushed my head down and lept on top of me. I twisted to my left and threw her to the center of the bed as she was already leaning that way. I pounced, pinning her shoulders to the soft covers. She brought her knees up and forced me away. Taking note of where the edge was, I reset myself. Brooke rolled to her knees and we clasped our bodies together. With one arm around the center of her back and another hanging on to the top of her jeans, I wrestled her towards the end of the bed, but she surged toward me and halted my effort.

We came to a standstill, huffing in each other's ears, and mashing our evenly-matched tits as we struggled. "Come on, bitch, that the best you've got?" she hissed.

"You wanna go, huh?" I snarled back.

"Bring it."

"My pleasure."

With an animal yell I slammed my breasts hard into hers. She grunted. I chest bumped her again. Her left hand hit the mattress for balance and I attacked. Keeping myself toward the center of the bed, I reoriented myself so that I could push her onto her back and roll her off. She lept quicker than I anticipated and got me in a side headlock with her right arm. I tried to duck out of it, but ended up on my side. Brooke landed on top of me, grabbing at my wrists. Her legs snaked against mine. I dropped my left shoulder, sending her falling onto my chest, and rolled us towards the head of the bed.

This was away from the end, which was my intent, but it was occupied territory. Brooke and I tumbled against the vicious hairpulling knot that was Samantha and Caroline, with Brooke leaning into them. Out of room to move Brooke onto her back, I lashed my legs around one of hers to keep her from regaining the upper position. As one, the two older girls pushed with their elbows and knees at us to lift our weight off them. This gave Brooke the momentum she needed to rise above me. I pulled in the direction of her motion and swung her over to my right side. She batted my left hand away, closed her body with mine, and grabbed the exposed small of my back with her right hand. She tugged me towards her, and I rolled onto her, and then immediately off. Furious, I kept the two of us going. Once more over me, I thought, and she'd be headed for the floor.

We were too entangled, however. She and I sped up like a tire hurtling downhill, whipping each other over and over until there was nothing but air beneath us. We thudded into the carpet, still wrapped tightly together. She put her hand at the base of my neck and I shoved my palm into her chin. We fought like that for a few seconds, then she let go and retreated a few inches. Her hair was out of place, and she had this mean look on her face. I know I did, too. She leaned forward, pinning my shoulders to the ground.

"What're you doing?" I demanded, trying to buck her off with my hips.

"Payback. You're staying right here."

"The fuck I am, bitch." My fire was stoked. The brakes were off. Full steam ahead.

I bridged, nearly throwing her head over heels. When she settled back down, I had spun onto my right side. I nabbed the collar of her shirt and tore her off me. She hit the wall with a slam and a "Fuck!" and was back at me in an instant. Writhing and grinding our chests and legs in a seething mass, we rolled in a slow, laborious clinch back and forth across the floor.

The next few minutes were a blur. The two of us tumbled in a tight ball of hatred, ratcheting up the intensity with each attack. We grappled body to body, and hurled each other around the space between the bed and the door with increasingly fearsome violence. Cursing and grunting, we worked out bodies together into a close embrace, snarling and clawing each other like cats. I was not going to lose to her, if it was the last thing I did.

She clambered atop me, kneeing me in the side. I responded by throwing my right arm up towards her face. My hand slapped her cheek and my elbow dug into her left boob. She growled, yanking my left arm upwards, spinning me onto my right side. She lay down on me, going for a choking headlock. I flung my left arm around her lower back, grabbed hold of something, and yanked. Her panties wedged up into her crotch. Howling, she tried to tighten the hold her left arm had around my neck, and grabbed wildly on my back. Her fingers snagged my bra, pulling it, and I groaned with pain.

We remained in that position for some time, each wantonly inflicting as much agony as we could. In the back of my hearing, I caught Samantha exclaim, "Holy shit. They're still going at it." Damn fucking straight, we were. I was going to beat this bitch. It wasn't anything personal. I just simply wasn't going to lose. Besides, I was loving every second of it.

Brooke raised her hips, then sat hard on the side of my stomach. I lost my grip on her underwear. She sat on me again, flattening my back on the carpet. Releasing her headlock, she sat up and bounced a few more times. Suddenly, I couldn't keep air in my lungs. I bridged, but she slid up my torso to just under my breasts. Brooke was panting hard, and sweat beaded on her forehead as she loomed over me.

Two minutes later, it was over. Brooke held my arms to the floor with my elbows under her knees, and schoolgirl pinned me. My face was flushed. We were both out of breath. I closed my eyes and sighed.

"Home team wins!" announced Samantha from her perch atop Caroline, who was face-down on the comforter and had been for quite some time. Brooke smiled and flexed her biceps. "Who's up for an ice cream celebration?"

Pissed off at losing, I almost didn't see that Brooke had extended a hand down toward me. She helped me up, and I almost pulled her off balance into me. She laughed once as she regained her balance, and held onto my hand.

Fixing me with a serious gaze, she asked, "No hard feelings, Allison?"

"Yeah, sure. Of course." She let go of my hand, as if she'd just shaken it.

"Things got a little rough back there."

"Kinda. Did I hurt you?"

"Nah. D'you have fun?"

"Oh, hell yeah."

She smiled so warmly I could hardly believe it was the same person I was brawling with just a few moments ago. "Good."

I returned her grin despite myself. "Oh, and... you can call me Allie."

"Let's go," Samantha chimed in. I looked at the scene of our grand melee. The sheets were a mess. Pillows were everywhere. The mattress was askew. The air in the room was humid and stifling. My muscles had just been given more of a workout then they had in ages, but the blood pumping through me made me feel more alive and excited than any time I could remember. I'd been worried at the start that I would hate such a childish game of roughhousing. I emerged from it wanting to do it again.

Next time, of course, ending with a win.

**********

The ice cream and the breeze out on the back patio did wonders to cool us off. Samantha and Caroline headed inside to talk to Aunt Miriam and my mom, and the dads left to go to the garage, leaving Brooke and I enjoying the late afternoon together. I learned a lot more about her. The family she was with next door wasn't her mother and father; she was renting the basement from a retired couple until she'd saved enough to get her own apartment. I got enough sense from the way she avoided talking about her parents that I shouldn't poke around that part of her history. Still, she was almost nineteen, and making a living on her own. I admired that, and told her so.

She asked me what my plans for the future were. I told her I wanted to go to college, but wasn't sure if my grades or test scores were high enough. My grandparents were helping pay for Caroline's undergraduate degree, and had made a similar offer if I could get in. I didn't want to go to the same university as my sister, though, highly-regarded or not. I wanted to be free to chose my own direction in life. Getting away to the state college was my dream, but the number of applicants I was up against was depressing. Throughout my little tale of woe, Brooke kept her eyes on me and a slight smile on her lips. I decided that I really liked the angles of her face.

Samantha's voice, blaring out as she swung open the screen door, interrupted our chat. "Sour grapes. Sour grapes!" She did a sassy dance down the two concrete steps to the patio. Caroline followed soon after.

"No, you're totally full of shit, and you know it," spat Caroline.

"Words of a sore loser," Samantha sing-songed, placing an L on her forehead with her right hand upon reaching the end of her sentence.

"It's that manure smell you huff all the time. You can't notice your own bullshit."

"Whatever. Let me know when you're done whining."

Caroline got right up her cousin's face. "You're just a coward."

Brooke, who'd been watching the proceedings with amusement, whispered for my benefit, "Oh, that'll do it."

"I swear," I said, "my sister does not know when to keep her mouth shut."

Samantha drew herself up to her full height. "Come with me." Just then, a cloud obscured the sun, bringing a sudden chill to the air.

Brooke got up hurriedly. I watched her in confusion. "Shoes!" she yelled.

I ran inside and jammed my feet into my shoes. Racing back outside, I saw Samantha and Caroline walking toward the woods at the back of the property. I waited for Brooke to finish lacing her boots, then we took off after them and caught up quickly.

After cresting the hill and skipping over a small creek on the other side, the ground leveled out. The trees thinned, and soon we were standing in the back corner of a corn field. Green stalks with golden heads seven feet high stood in perfect lines. Samantha darted down one row and we all followed. She sped up, dodging between rows, and soon we were whooping and hollering in pursuit.

The corn gave way to a puddle of water about twenty-five feet in diameter that filled a shallow depression that crops never grew in.

"Here we are, everybody. Site of the final rematch: Country Folk versus City Slickers."

"Oh, hell no." Caroline baulked.

"What's the matter, ya pampered suburban tramp? Never gotten good and dirty before?"

"I'm not dressed for this."

While they bickered, I tossed a pebble into the middle. It plipped softly, revealing that the water was barely an inch at most.

"Hey, Allie," Brooke called out, having wandered to the opposite side. I think my sister noticed that she'd said the nickname I only let my friends use. "You and me." I tested the depth of the mud with the toe of my shoe. "It's not deep at all. You won't drown when I pin you."

I raised my eyes to hers. That snarky grin of hers made my decision easy. "You won't pin me."

"Oooooo!" hooted the duet of Samantha and Caroline. Samantha stuck her fingers in her mouth and started whistling.

We took off our shoes and socks. I stole a glance at my older sister. "Do it," she mouthed silently.

Across the puddle, Brooke had removed her shirt, revealing a simple white bra encasing a pair of nice sized, jutting breasts that fit her frame well. I took my top off and tightened my bra straps. Then, that smirk from Brooke again. She undid her belt and shimmied out of her jeans. She dropped them casually onto her other clothes, daring me to follow her lead. 'What the heck,' I thought, 'The water's just going to soak through anyway.' I unzipped my pants, pulled them down, and kicked them aside.

Wearing nothing but our underwear, Brooke and I waded in towards each other. The water quickly became clouded as we walked. The further we went, the thicker the mud was beneath the water. Our pace slowed. Several feet in, the mud was a good three or four inches deep, and sticky. I was almost giddy with glee. Another chance to wrestle against Brooke. This time, I'd show her. This time, I'd win.

We were still unsteady when we got close enough to reach each other. The muck would grab hold of our feet, making it hard to pull them back out, but we would slide sideways if we put too much weight down. The two of us caught our balances with our hands on each other's upper arms. We both let out some nervous chuckles, then set to the task at hand. My sister's encouragement seemed distant as I concentrated on the girl in front of me. Legs planted apart, arms alternately pushing and pulling, we tried to shove each other over. I listened to the intake of her breath and the force of her grunts to know the difference between her feints and real attacks. My eyes were fixed on watching her pelvis twist and weave, the sunlight glistening on her bare skin.

I pulled her off-balance first, yanking her left arm toward me. Her other arm flailed in a circle twice, then she fell head first into my stomach. The impact knocked me backwards, and we splatted in unison. The mud was cool and comfortable on my back, but the water that quickly soaked into my panties wasn't. The audience was loving it, and the yelling doubled in volume when Brooke picked her mud-stained front out of the puddle. I tried to sit up and discovered another problem. No friction meant that I had nothing to push off against. I resorted to doing an ab crunch to raise myself up, but my feet dislodged themselves from the mire, pointed high in the sky, and I fell back again.

Brooke was having difficulty, too. Twice, her hands slipped in the muck as she tried to get into a crawling position. By the time she did, I had drawn my legs into my chest and rolled to my knees. Spinning around, I found myself within striking distance of my opponent's back. My lunge wasn't pretty, but it got me far enough. My arms slapped against Brooke, and I dragged myself closer. As she swung her arms to reach around my midsection, I slid off her, leaving muddy tracks down her back. Brooke ended up on top of me. I swiftly spun onto my side to defend against her grabbing hands. There was little need. I couldn't hold onto her arms and she couldn't hold onto mine. A change of tactics was in order.

Her fingers and mine intertwined. Locked together, we pitted strength against strength. She reared up, adjusted her hands, and leaned further down. Suddenly, her palms zipped right out of mine. Brooke arrested her fall by quickly putting her hands in front of her. They hit my breasts, fingers drawing lines across by bra cups, then vanished in the mud on either side of me. The rest of her collapsed on top of me with a wet smack.

I let her slither upright, and then attempted to bridge. I didn't go nearly as high as I planned, but it was enough to cause her to slip right off me, her body rubbing roughly against my breasts and stomach as it went. I swung my right leg over top of her thighs, got what purchase I could on her neck with my right hand and mounted her, rolling her onto her back. She struggled valiantly. I smoothed her arms against her sides, but they snaked out of my hands. She twirled underneath me into a crawling position and bucked her rear end to throw me off. All that accomplished was tip me forward, where my boobs flattened against her shoulder blades. "Rrr! Get off me," she spat.

She launched herself sideways. My hands lassoed the front of her chest in search of something to hold onto. I got her bra. She thrashed like a fish out of water, rolling us over and over in the slimy water. I held on as best I could, my fingers clawing Brooke's tits and my palms abrading her nipples. After one particularly vicious twirl, I lost grip with one hand. I stopped dead on my back and she tumbled off next to me. She lurched up, adjusting her bra and gave that evil glare of hers.

"That how you want to play? Huh, you sleaze?"

"I'll play it any way you want to, bitch."

"You asked for it."

"Let's go."

Brooke's knees went out from under her as we set to each other again. I tried to collar her from behind, but she spun too fast. I plopped body to body against her, with one leg between hers. She locked her ankles and squeezed my trapped leg. As my hands went for her arms to pin her, pain erupted in my scalp. She'd grabbed a fistful of hair with her right hand and then used it to roll both of us over. Answering her escalation of hostilities, I dug my fingers into her mop of hair and twisted her head away to one side. We groaned, fighting the pain and each other's slippery bodies. With something to hold onto, we yanked one another about our soggy arena. Our mud-soaked bodies sloshed back and forth, rolling and tumbling. Nothing existed for us but each other and the fierce contest we both fought our utmost to win.

Foul-tasting liquid splashed in our eyes and mouths. My slick skin slapped against hers again and again. We threw ourselves at each other, entwining arms and legs, writhing like eels and then slipping apart. I no longer felt the mud or the water. Only Brooke's smooth feminine figure rippling against me. Her arms around my back, her legs slithering along my legs. Ten minutes passed, and still our battle raged just as fevered as before. Like a pair of breaching whales, we rose from the muck and slammed back down again, launching a wave of brown water. Brooke clambered to the top position, and I pushed her off. Her fingers tore at my bra cup, freeing one of my breasts. I barely registered it. Rolling to my knees, I attacked once more. My body flattened atop her, at right angles to hers. She struggled, and finally slid me off, giving me a few kicks for good measure.

"Ow, fucking skank!"

I pounced again. We ended up side by side on our hands and knees. My left arm went around her head and her right arm surrounded mine. We both squeezed with all our might. Wailing in exhaustion and agony, we strained against each other for countless minutes, neither willing to give up. Staggering like two drunks, we rose all the way up to our feet, still trapped in a mutual death grip. I jerked her head, seeking to throw her down. She resisted. She pulled on my neck, trying to drag me back into the mud where she could pin me.

She finally tried a desperate gamble: striking the back of my left knee with her right leg. Her standing leg slipped, and we hit the puddle with a mighty splash. Muscles aching and nearly winded, I hauled myself out of the mud and straddled her. She rolled, toppling me. I drew her body into a tight embrace and rolled with her. Ignoring the pain in my legs, I squeezed her midsection between my thighs. She moaned in tired frustration. Her hands slapped again and again into my legs, to no avail. She wriggled for a few minutes, working her stomach loose in my grip, but couldn't get far once her rib cage and hips hit my thighs.

Hopelessly trapped, but still refusing to give up, Brooke swung her right arm at my head. I dodged, and her fingers curled around the center of the front of my bra. They tugged, and my boobs flopped out in the open air. She continued pulling, and I leaned towards her to lessen the pain of my bra digging into my back. Her left hand reached into my hair as I sat atop her. I grabbed her wrist and forced it out. Bearing down on her with both hands, I straddled her stomach. She bridged once, then again, but I kept myself from moving too far up her chest where I could fall off.

Brooke's breath was ragged. Her expression told me it was only a matter of time before she gave up. I pressed harder, driving her hands down into the mud. My face hung over hers. My tits swayed in time with my labored panting. Our eyes met, holding a silent conversation. Brooke's stomach wiggled back and forth between my thighs. A feeling unlike anything I'd ever experienced was building inside of me. The girl whose body I'd fought against with mine pushed and strained, driving contact between our exposed skin. My muscles answered every escape attempt, trapping her nearly naked form beneath me. There was a pause, and silence except for insects off in the distance.

"I give." Brooke's voice was almost a whisper, but I heard it clearly. She relaxed underneath me. I lifted my butt off of her to let her breathe freely. Caroline whooped in triumph, but I wasn't listening to her right then. I was admiring the woman I'd just beaten. Her body was filthy and her hair a clump of mud, but something magnetic was drawing me to it.

I was still captivated by her lips when she broke me out of my reverie. "You mind helping me up?"

"Of course. You OK?"

"Yeah. Don't worry about me."

Like wounded soldiers staggering back from the front lines, we walked arm in arm on wobbly legs back to dry land.

"Un-fucking-believable." Samantha crowed as we approached. "Eighteen and a half minutes!"

Sitting by the side of the puddle, it was surprisingly easy to get most of the muck off and clean a lot of the rest by splashing water on our legs, arms, backs, and chests. Brooke and I washed ourselves without talking as Caroline and Samantha strode out into the mud pit, trashing each other verbally as they went. I didn't notice their match begin, and I had only just finished pulling my pants back on when Samantha declared victory after only three minutes of wrestling. My sister couldn't go anywhere, but she still didn't give up. Samantha piled handful after handful of mud into Caroline's hair and smeared it in. Caroline howled her dismay, but finally broke down and submitted.

The four of us returned to the house wet and smelly to the horror of my parents and the riotous laughter of my aunt and uncle. Samantha got out the hose and rinsed us off while Aunt Miriam brought out towels. Brooke said, "See you all" and headed back home before I could give her a personal goodbye. Samantha sprayed Caroline's hair real good, chatting up her defeated cousin. My sister stood there and took it. I'd never seen her brood quite like that.

As we went inside to hit the showers for a final wash and change of clothes, I touched Caroline on the shoulder. "Are you okay?" I asked.

"I'm fine."

"No, really. If you want someone to listen while you vent..."

Caroline paused, and her features softened. "Thanks. I just need some time, and I'll be OK."

"Alright," I said, continuing down the hall.

"Allison," she called. I stopped and turned. "You were... pretty amazing back there. Good job."

"Oh, thanks."

Later in the shower it dawned on me. That was one of the few times my sister had ever complimented me, and didn't do it just because she had to.

*********

At dinner, Samantha and Caroline were on speaking terms again, gossiping like old friends as if nothing had happened between them that afternoon. Aunt Miriam made some small talk with me, but otherwise I was back to being ignored. I felt like a side dish at Thanksgiving: one you bring out of habit but aren't really interested in yourself. Nor is anybody else.

Night fell. We all played game of Trivial Pursuit, but after realizing the questions all dealt with people and events that happened before I was even born, I took Caroline and Samantha's lead and left the parents to continue on their own. The three of us changed into pajamas. The older two went to Samantha's room and I browsed Uncle Rob's bookshelf. I brought some spy novel down to my cot in the basement but rapidly lost interest less than fifty pages in.

It had been a one heck of a day, and an unexpectedly enjoyable trip. I settled myself in to catch some well-earned rest. Sounds of far-off laughter and the clinking of wine glasses being refilled filtered through the closed basement door. Almost right above me, I heard my sister's booming voice alternating with my cousin's. Crickets chirped outside, providing constant background noise infrequently interrupted by other nocturnal animal calls. The half moon in the sky danced into and out of big, fluffy clouds, shining on and off through the window on the basement door like a child playing with a light switch. I closed my eyes, waiting for sleep.

Half and hour, maybe more, passed. I heard what sounded like scratching or shuffling in the darkened room. I got up, and turned on the light. Nothing. Something scraped at the back door. A raccoon or possum, I thought. I flicked the light switch next to the door. Suddenly illuminated in the glow of the dim bulb was Brooke. She was wearing a tight-fitting white tank top and shorts. She furtively looked around, then motioned for me to come out. I opened the door a crack slowly and quietly.

"What's up?"

"You alone?"

"Yeah, I was getting ready for bed."

"Aw, sleep's for the weak. You really that tired?"

"No."

"How about we do something, then?" I glanced back into the basement, then up the stairs. "Over at my place." Now I looked down at my knee-length night shirt. "You don't have to if you don't want to, but..." I looked at Brooke. Our eyes met. A charge of excitement sizzled through me.

"Of course I want to."

We dashed across the grass like robbers. Upon arriving at the back door to Brooke's place, she admitted, "I'm not supposed to have late night visitors, but the old folks are so hard of hearing they don't even notice the music I blast all the time." When the door opened, the thudding drums and guttural vocals of heavy metal assaulted my ears. The two of us darted inside. Brooke waved her arm about the spartan space. "Here's where I live."

Half the basement had been paneled. A single, large rug covered most of the concrete slab floor. A couch and television sat on opposite sides of the long wall, and a bed was tucked into the back corner. "Got my own bathroom downstairs, but that's about it."

"How much does it cost?" She named an amount. "Wow, that's half what a cheap single bedroom goes for where I live."

"Benefits of being out in the boonies. But, it's not for long. Another year, and I'm out of here."

"To where?"

"Dunno. I need someplace with a lot of people. Get some variety in my life." She sat cross-legged on the floor near the TV. I plunked myself down on the rug leaning against the front of the couch. Neither of us said anything for bit. Clumsily, we both decided to break the awkwardness at the same time.

"You know-"
"Wh-"

We laughed. Brooke said, "You go first."

"I thought this trip was going to be so boring." Nervously, I made circles in the rug fibers with my finger. "You made it fun. Thanks, Brooke."

"It's not over yet, is it?"

"We're leaving tomorrow."

"But that's tomorrow." She shifted, leaning on one arm and straightened her opposite leg. "What I was going to say was... well, I guess, the same thing. When Samantha invited me over, she mentioned that her younger cousin was was coming. But the way she talked, I was expecting some passive bookworm who rarely spoke. You really surprised me."

We smiled. "Glad I didn't turn out to be some shy little mouse."

Brooke chuckled that rough laugh of hers. "More like a muddy panther."

"I really enjoyed that."

The room fell quiet for a second. Then, the next track on whatever deathgrind stream she had running through her speakers started up in a thunder of chugging guitars.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" I continued.

"I told you back then you didn't. I wasn't kidding. Besides, it just made us even."

I calculated mentally. "You count the score as one-one?"

"Don't you?"

I nodded.

The frenetic music rumbled on. It was background noise to me now. We were regarding each other like two cats in the jungle trying to sniff out what kind of threat the other posed. I saw the answer in Brooke's eyes.

"You wanna go best two out of three?" I heard myself ask.

"Are you sure you're up for it?"

"You bet. Question is, why are you interested in a repeat of what happened back at the mud hole?"

"Oh, ho ho. Fat chance you'll do that again."

I pulled my feet underneath me and got to my knees. "You think so?"

Brooke curled into a crouch. "Well, then. Show me what a big-tittied slut from the city can do."

My dander was up. We stood and began circling each other. "For that, I'm really gonna smother your ass, you little bitch."

I knew now why my sister and Samantha did this before they went at it now.

"Try it, whore!"

With each filthy insult...

"Shut your mouth, you greasy punk."

...my temperature rose....

"Make me, you cow!"

...my blood boiled...

"Fuck you, you cunt."

...my juices flowed.

We met in a test of strength, palms together, fingers locked. Bending our wrists and twisting them side to side, we played Mercy for a minute or two. Inevitably, our legs powered us forward until our chests met. Our boobs mashed and mushroomed outward, but neither of us relented our pressure. Heads on each other's shoulders, we grunted and strained. Again and again our tit flesh smacked and rubbed roughly through our tops. I twisted us to the left, and Brooke took a step back. She pushed into me hard, standing me upright, but I planted a foot and held my ground. She backed off, disengaging her fingers.

Our bodies collided once more. My breasts flattened painfully, and knew from Brooke's groan that she felt the same agony. Her nipples poked deep into my braless orbs. My hands went around her body. I grabbed my wrists and squeezed. "Fuck," Brooke panted into my ear. Her arms lassoed my waist and soon we were engaged in a grueling contest, each constricting the other's ability to breathe. A guitar screamed in wild, high pitched abandon and speeding drums pounded us as we staggered about the room, locked in fierce combat. An entire song went by, and still the two of us gripped and spun around, neither able to gain advantage and throw the other to the ground.

We tumbled onto the couch at full speed. Face to face we snarled and hissed as our knees kicked into our legs. Getting my feet to the floor, leaped on top of her. Her knees hit my ribs, and she pushed me off. I landed on the rug and fell on my back. She pounced. I caught her in midair with my arms and legs and tossed her to the side. Scrambling to our knees, she and I waded into one another. Wrapping tightly together, we each grabbed a handful of hair. We teetered, body against body, heads pulled away from one another for a minute or more. Then Brooke got to her feet and forced me down.

Landing on our sides, we kept our grips on each other's hair and wrestled the rest of ourselves into a tiny ball. My breath wheezed through clenched teeth. Brooke's face was a mask of determination. Slowly, so slowly, I lifted my self with my free hand and rose to the top position. She threw her free arm around my neck and pulled my head into her chest. Her body writhed against mine in that knot for some time. Sweat was beginning to build inside my shirt. Her thighs were hot against my upper legs.

"Had enough?" I taunted.

"Just getting started, bitch. You?"

"Oh, I'm- oof!" Brooke counterattacked while I was delivering my retort, sending a knee into my solar plexus and driving the wind from my sails. I collapsed to my side, then rolled away quickly out of her reach.

We stood, swaying and cautiously eyeing one another. "You underhanded little twerp."

"Talk is cheap, you heavy sow." Brooke fixed the strap on her top that had falling off her shoulder. Her hair was a mess. Her breasts bobbled as she dodged and feinted.

The next ten or twelve minutes were a dizzying flurry of hard fighting. Again and again we wrestled together, gaining headlocks, tumbling to the ground, rolling this way and that. Every time one of us got close to pinning the other, victory was denied. She squirmed in my grasp, her slim waist and legs slipping through my arms time and again. Time and again I forced open her holds and escaped. We rose over and over to our feet separately, only to plummet to the rug in each other's embrace moments later, where we grappled and churned.

After one particularly exhausting bout, I hurled her off my back, breaking her headlock, and we both stayed down. Panting hard, I rolled to the wall, sat up, and brushed wet hair from my forehead. "Oh, fuck."

"Fuck you." came the response from across the room.

I looked down ay my heaving chest and noticed I could see most of one of my boobs. "No, fuck you. I've lost a button."

"You ripped my GWAR shirt earlier today. You expect me to give a shit?"

"No, you dumb asshole. But, I'm going to make you pay for it."

Brooke gave me the middle finger. "Here you go. Cash on delivery. Sit and spin."

I lumbered to my knees. "You're gonna wish you hadn't made that offer."

"Oh, really?"

"Fuck but it's hot in this." I fanned the front of my pajamas, trying to cool my sweaty skin off.

"That's not the best gear for fighting in, is it?"

"No shit."

"Go ahead. Take it off. I'll make things even." At that, she removed her tank top, then her bra. Her tits wobbled side to side as she tossed her clothes in a pile before becoming still. "What are you waiting for?" I knew what I wanted, and her voice told me what she wanted. Our eyes met. That made up my mind.

"I'm waiting..." I said pulling my nightshirt over my head, and standing defiantly on my knees, hands on my hips, "...for you."

Brooke shimmied out of her shorts. She rose to face me. We laced our fingers together. Our foreheads touched. Her eyes were watching the swaying of my pendulous breasts.

"Scared? They're going to crush yours, baby."

"If you think I'm frightened of another woman's body, you know nothing about me." Her voice was so close. Her lips inches from mine.

"Tough talk from someone who's about to about to go down."

"You can only win in a pig sty, 'cause that's your natural element."

"You think I can't take you in your own bedroom?"

Brooke breathed hard a few times. "Keep dreaming, bitch."

She surged. Our boobs touched. Rising to our feet, we grimaced and pressed out upper bodies into one another, grunting with exertion. My head rested against her right ear, and my right arm slung over her left shoulder. I grabbed her right arm with my left as her left hand clawed my waist. Our thighs met briefly, then I leaned back and hauled her off her feet maybe an inch in the air. I spun as I dropped her again, aiming to drive her into the couch. She twisted sideways, foiling my plan. Keeping my hold on her, I barreled towards her.

She'd just gotten her feet set and couldn't withstand my charge. She chirped as the backs of her knees hit the metal side of the box springs. We toppled onto the unmade bed. Firm nipples dragged across bare skin. I landed face down next to her and immediately climbed back on her. She rolled us over, almost gaining the upper position. I rolled us in the reverse direction and got above her. I pinned her shoulders as hard as I could into the mattress. Brooke had pulled her left leg up defensively and now her knee was in my ribs just beneath my breasts. She was huffing and puffing, furiously attempting to throw me off. I redoubled my pressure. Brooke drove her shin between my legs, rubbing the crotch of my panties as she sought for leverage.

With strength I didn't think she still had, Brooke lifted my lower half up and dumped me off the bed. My right hip bone hit painfully, and I clutched it for a few seconds. Brooke was on me by the time I regained my composure. She sat atop me going for a schoolgirl pin. I bucked her off toward my feet. Brooke grabbed my left leg and scissored my right with her thighs. I rolled us once completely over, trying to loosen her hold. She let go of my left leg, and I was able to get that foot on the floor and stand up.

The other girl stayed with her shoulder blades on the floor and her legs in the air crushing my right leg. I shook her to no avail. I twisted my leg, but it refused to budge. Then I sat towards Brooke. She bent, then straightened, flinging me to the rug. I held her right foot to keep it from kicking into my stomach. Locked leg against leg, we rocked back and forth. I grew more desperate as one, then two minutes passed and I still remained trapped. Brooke's calf was grinding against my panties. I struggled to free myself, arching my back again and again to pull my leg out. Brooke's grip was slipping. Just a few more tugs...

The orgasm took me by complete surprise. I shouted once, then groaned and crushed Brooke's right leg between my own, twisting her foot. She yelped, and kicked my ass once to make me let go. I did, and we separated.

"Where did that come from?" I panted, wiping sweat from my brow.

"Oh, you mean you... Heh. It's OK," Brooke said. "Happens sometimes when you're wrestling." We paused to catch our breaths. "You good?"

"Oh, yeah. That's not going to stop me."

Several moments later, we were back at it. Our tits bashed repeatedly. Our bodies merged into a single writhing jumble of smooth skin. Each of us tried to pin the other, but we'd used up our best ideas long ago, and now we fought a battle of attrition. Finding ourselves on our sides, I looped my elbow under Brooke's knee and lifted. She slithered atop me and enveloped my torso with her arms. I yanked on my trapped arm, dragging it against a very warm area deep between her thighs. She moaned, then grabbed my cheeks with both hands.

"You want to make this..." she panted, "a sexfight, do you?"

"Say what?"

"A sexfight. Two women... give each other orgasms... until one's had enough."

"You've done that?"

"No. Heard about it."

"I'm just giving you payback for getting me off."

"Fine, then. Don't expect me to leave your little kitty alone."

"If that's the way you want to play..." We were staring into each other's eyes, inches apart, pulses pounding. "I'll fuck you into oblivion."

Brooke's blush reddened. I could tell she was taken aback by my forwardness. She didn't know me, though. Get me started on something, and I carry it through to the end. No matter what.

The woman's face above me hardened into a warrior's glare. "Allie, I'm going to work your cunt until it's fucking dry."

"Yeah?" My knuckles started working against Brooke's panties.

"Uh huh." Her fingers slithered up my thigh and began tickling my pussy.

"Never happen." I began rubbing her harder.

Her strokes grew in vigor. "You're already so hot."

"And you're dripping wet."

We masturbated each other like that for two or three minutes until Brooke pulled the crotch of my panties aside to expose my cunt. I slammed my legs closed reflexively and rolled us over. I grabbed her right wrist and pinned it to the rug as my thighs parted her legs. She gripped my hair with her other hand and grunted. I thrust against her like that in missionary position, rubbing her groin feverishly with my panty-covered mound. She squirmed a bit beneath me, but I held her fast.

"Gonna cum for me, bitch?"

Brooke only let out an exasperated groan, staring daggers at me. I humped her again and again. She leaned up and nibbled my ear, taking the bottom part of the lobe between her lips and tugging. That drove me to distraction. I flattened against her prone figure, nuzzling her neck with my nose. She rolled us suddenly, and made quick work of spreading my legs. Her tits rested on mine, then began dancing all over them, nipples scraping, as she started grinding my pussy with her in retaliation.

"You call that fucking?" she hissed in my ear. "I'll give you fucking."

I remember the sight of her, hands either side of my armpits, sweaty, naked skin glistening in the lamplight, howling vocals from the stereo roaring an encouragement to the girl gyrating between my thighs. I parted my legs further and rested my ankles on her lower back. I could feel the muscles in her ass as she pumped without stop for over a minute. I thrust back in time with her rhythm. The impacts came harder and harder.

All of a sudden, Brooke flopped her hot, sweaty body on top of mine. I squeezed her hips with my thighs. "Nnh. Fuck you," she spat. I grabbed hold of the waistband of her panties and jerked them. "Ungh!" she cried, then rolled away.

The sudden lack of her warmth against me caused goose pimples.

"These have got to go," Brooke said, yanking my panties down. I raised my legs so she could liberate them and pulled on hers. She sat back and flung them off while I sat up. She had a small, trimmed bush, whereas mine was merely cut not to show in a bikini.

"Ready for the next round?" I swear, she almost purred that question.

"If your pussy can handle it."

"You want my cunt against yours?"

"I'll take your whole body on."

We scooted on our asses on the rug until we were intimately close. My left leg was under her right and my right rested on her left. My nipples teased hers, the four stiff nubs tickling and rubbing along our sensitive breasts. Without warning, she lightly grabbed a fistful of hair behind my head and thrust her lips onto mine. I returned the favor, keeping her head close to mine with fingers pressed against the base of her neck, and sucked her juicy lips into my mouth. Her tongue forced its way into mine, wrestling with my own tongue and probing hard. Down below, our hips began a rotating grind. Our pelvises clapped together. Our pubic mounds worked around and around and up and down faster and faster. Her kissing slowed, then stopped as Brooke's breathing sped up.

The feeling rippling out from my vagina was intoxicating. I didn't want it to end. On and on I matched my cunt lips against hers, grinding their slippery folds together. Brooke leaned back, placing both hands behind her. She pushed with her arms, increasing the intensity of her thrusts. I lost my balance, tumbling onto my elbows. With renewed vigor I fought back. The battle between my aroused womanhood and hers escalated. We both collapsed to our backs. Our hips raised into the air, cunts still mashed together. The room became filled with the smell of sex, the sounds of two women grunting and fucking each other beyond the point of all control mixed with the insanity of extreme music.

Brooke came. Her body fell to the ground, convulsing in ecstasy. I got up to a sitting position and reached with my fingers to finish her off. Her hands prevented me. Our fingers entwined. She shook her head, locked cunts with me once more and said, "Let's go."

I rode her pussy for another minute or two. She ran one hand up my body and across my tits. Then she pushed me backwards, scissored me and went on the offensive. We traded positions for what seemed like forever, never quite driving the other to climax.

We separated, worn out and frustrated, after several minutes. My whole body was on fire. Brooke lay there, shiny with sweat. Her naked body was so close, within reach of me tackling her, but I was nearing exhaustion. I couldn't do it. My lower back hurt. I had to try something else.

The two of us crawled towards each other. We rose to our knees. Brooke put her hands on my breasts, massaging them firmly.

"You're quite a handful."

"You're not so bad yourself."

I cupped her tits, squeezing them gently. She ran her palms up my boobs, dragging my nipples painfully upward. I moaned in complaint and batted her arms away. She drew closer. I kissed her, softly at first, then more passionately. Brooke's fingers felt the outer folds of my vagina. I ran my fingers up and down her cleft, then penetrated it. Brooke responded by embedding her entire middle finger inside me, then adding her index finger.

"So hot for me, aren't you?"

"You're so wet, you're dripping."

I stroked her pussy as our tongues met once again in our mouths. She fucked me deep and hard, working her fingers to pleasure me in ways I hadn't known possible. I put my forehead on her shoulder and whimpered. This felt so unbelievably good. My body wanted to give in to the feeling, but my mind knew the only way I could win was to fuck this girl and fuck her without caring about my own desires.

"Gonna cum for me, baby? Huh? Gonna cum?" she teased.

I touched Brooke's clitoris with the tip of my finger, and she began moaning. The knuckle of her thumb rubbed against my clit, sending waves of pleasure through me. I sped up, working her feminine rod mercilessly.

"Oh, yeah. I feel it," I said. "You're so ready..."

"Uh huh!"

"Hnnggh," I groaned as she plunged over and over into the furnace of my cunt. "You want it?"

"Uh huh!"

"Feel how hard I'm doing you."

"Yes, you bitch. Yes." Nails scratched down my back. I couldn't take any more. I kissed her incessantly: her shoulder, her cheek, her neck, her ear...

Brooke reached orgasm, her body rocking into mine as she hugged me tightly with her left arm. I came violently soon afterward. I vividly remember quivering against her naked body. We embraced for a few seconds, then sagged to the floor. We lay side by side, wallowing in a blissful, exhausted dream. Time passed. How long, I couldn't say.

We were still recovering our senses when footsteps started descending the stairs.

"I keep tellin' ya, young lady" an elderly voice shouted, "Try to keep the music down!"

It was like that ice bucket challenge all over again: an initial blast of cold, then a chill that sank into your bones. Brooke had a frightened look on her face. 'Oh, shit,' I thought, 'I'm going to get her kicked out of her place.'

"You've got to go." Brooke commanded needlessly.

All thoughts of our fight were lost in a flurry of rapid dressing. We each grabbed our underwear and threw them on. Brooke turned the volume knob way down then pulled her shorts on. I flung my nightshirt over my head and was about to dart through the door, seeking the safety of my aunt and uncle's house, when I turned one last time toward Brooke. I watched her, standing sideways to me, as she pulled her tank top down over her body, sighing as she did so. Her aroused nipples poked out from the thin white fabric. She ruffled her hair back into place, then looked in my direction.

I memorized every single detail about her as she sauntered up to me.

"Go," she said again. I ached, and not just from exertion.

The night breeze cooled me off somewhat. My breathing recovered by the time I crept back into my relative's basement. Caroline wasn't there, thank goodness. I heard her and Samantha still talking up above.

I nestled under the covers in my cot, stared at the ceiling, and passed out, with a certain girl's face burnt into my vision.

*********

The next morning, she wasn't there. I went through the motions of eating breakfast and packing in a daze. When we were gathered on the front lawn getting ready to leave, my eyes kept wandering over to the neighbor's house.

Samantha noticed and asked, "Looking for Brooke?"

I shrugged nonchalantly.

"What, do you want to roll around with her in the mud again?" she joked.

My glare must have been really off-putting, because Samantha backed away immediately, and dropped the subject like a hot coal.

My parents, my sister and I all said goodbye to our aunt, uncle, cousin, and the quiet little back road they lived on, and hit the highway home.

The rest of my family talked animatedly on the ride home. As usual, they ignored the ball of silence I inhabited. To them, it was completely normal. To me, it was a deeper silence than I'd experienced in many years. I guess that's one of the benefit of being an oddball: lots of time to yourself to think.

And think I did.

I knew people who looked like Brooke, or who talked like her. But no one, no one matched the free-spirited attitude and openness towards sex that made Brooke Marx one of the most special and unique people I'd ever met. I was saddened to think I would probably never get to be with her, or someone like her, ever again.

Then, the following February, I got the letter.

**spartwow186** · September 16th, 2017, 05:51 PM

Digging the story. Would actually like to see more of Samantha and Caroline. They cleary have a repetoire and seem to be the more bulky/athletic duo.

Wondering how they have such a relationship though, if they don't ever see each other, unless they see each other in private. Also wondering if their dynamic revolves around wrestling or sexfighting.