Dear Board,

Here is a bit of a surprise. I was inspired to work on this story a few days ago and I've been making good progress on it. So, I've decided to post the first two parts. The next two parts are almost done, and I shoudl have them up by the weekend. I expect it will need at least another two or three parts after that, and those aren't started. However, I know where they are going, so I'm going to take the risk and hope that I can finish the whole story relatively quickly.

And, to those waiting for "Wife vs. Mistress 2", I'm finally making progress on it. I've actually starting rewriting the final part and I like the new scenario (it's partly inspired by some recent stories on the board - you'll know which ones when you read it!) so I'm guardedly optimistic about getting it done in the foreseeable future.

For now, however, Tara and Carrie have captured my imagination! Even though this is a "Western" I'm not planning to make it link up with my "Ginny" stories - at least, not yet.

I hope these two parts whet your appetites for the rest of the story!

JB57

- - - Updated - - -

Wildcats: Tara vs. Carrie: Part I

Carrie McRae wiped her hands on her weathered dress and stood up straight. She placed her hands on her lower back and arched her spine, stretching to release some of the kinks. The stretch caused the faded material of the dress to pull taut against the rounds of her impressive chest, even as it was indented by her thick nipples. It was going on mid-afternoon, and quickly becoming too hot to do much more work outside. Carrie had been painting a fence but she decided to take shelter from the sun. She walked across the yard toward the big, old barn on the other side. She removed her straw hat and dipped a towel into a bucket of water sitting near the barn door. She used it to sponge down her head and neck. She squeezed a trickle of water down between her beautiful, massive breasts and sighed with pleasure as the cool water traced its way down her sweaty cleavage, onto her bare, flat belly, pooled in her deep navel for a moment, before continuing to the tuft of blonde hair just above her womanly slit. Her blue dress was loose on her but the bagginess did little to conceal her incredible body.

Carrie used a ladle to treat herself to a much needed drink. As she was sipping at the water, she noticed a cloud of dust in the distance. A carriage or horses were coming up her road. These clouds had become much more common over the past year, as construction for the railroad began to take shape.

Carrie gave herself a quick once-over. She was naked under the frayed dress and she did not want to give any strange cowboys a free show. The collar of the dress was low, revealing a great deal of her bulging tits and tan skin. She usually did not bother wearing underwear when she was doing chores, especially in the summer heat. The dress went down to her just above her ankles, so she figured it provided enough coverage. She continued her work for another 15 minutes, until the carriage came clattering up to the front of the big house that dominated the yard. A well-dressed man and woman stepped out of the carriage and immediately unloaded a few bags. The man paid the carriage driver and the transport clattered away.

Carrie walked over from the barn, pulling on a straw sun hat. It looked like these people were paying customers. The big house provided her with a bit of income as a place offering bed and board. Right now, she had no guests. She was a little too far outside of town to be convenient. But, again, she was hopeful that would change as the trains started bringing in more business and the town expanded.

“Hello, folks,” Carrie said to the well-dressed couple. The man was tall, clean-shaven and ruggedly handsome. It was hard to pin down his age, though he was probably not over 30. He was wearing a sharp brown traveling suit, dusty boots, a black, wide-brimmed hat and a large-buckled belt. She saw immediately he had two guns strapped to his hips and she caught the flash of a shoulder holster inside his coat. She was immediately wary. This man was some kind of gunfighter, but she did not get the sense he was threatening to her.

The woman immediately seized Carrie’s attention. She was wearing a dainty hat that was pinned to the thick red braids set up on her head. The woman’s face was beautiful. The woman’s cream dress and matching coat were tightly buttoned up, but they did not hide her prodigious chest. The dress hugged and emphasized the red-headed woman’s serious curves and long legs. Her green eyes locked with Carrie’s blue eyes. A shock of tension passed between the two women.

Carrie was a very beautiful woman herself. Her present state of dishevelment somehow enhanced the wild, natural sensuality that she kept barely contained. Her large breasts shifted easily under her loose dress, bouncing visibly inside the revealing collar. The worn dress pulled tight against her muscular thighs as she walked. She was not put together like a society woman, but her meager clothing enhanced a kind of animal magnetism that was no less impressive than the sculpted beauty of the redheaded woman.

The two women locked eyes and, for a moment, each beautiful woman appreciated and evaluated the erotic presence of the other. Neither was sure what had passed between them or what was developing now, but they both sensed something was happening. The tension put them both on edge. They shared an instant dislike.

“Hello,” the redhead said. “My name is Tara Wells. My associate here is Mr. Blackthorne.” The man tipped his hat at Carrie. She could see that his eyes were roaming over her voluptuous body appreciatively. “Mr. Blackthorne is my traveling companion and my bodyguard.”

“Pleased to meet you, ma’am,” Blackthorne said with a friendly smile.

“Pleased to meet both of you,” Carrie nodded. “What can I do for you? Are you here to rent some rooms for the night?”

“Yes, we would like one room,” Tara replied. Carrie did not let anything show on her face, but this was an uncommon request. She was not surprised that Tara and her bodyguard were sleeping together, but it was unusual to be so open about it. “A large room, please. But I am also here to discuss business with the operator of this establishment. I take it that is you?”

“Yes,” Carrie replied, a bit puzzled now. What kind of business could she have with this woman? Maybe an offer on her house and property?

“Perhaps we could arrange to meet this evening, after supper?”

“Uh, sure,” Carrie frowned. She decided to let the matter drop, for now. “Let me help you with those bags. I’ll give you the big room on the top floor.”

Carrie grabbed a bag. She was impressed to see that Tara took another bag. Blackthorne was left with only one other bag to carry.
As they headed into the house and up three flights of stairs, Carrie learned that her guests had come in on the train from Portland. She opened the door to the top floor bedroom. It was a large space with a big double-bed, a fireplace, a wash station, a sitting area and a small desk facing a window with a great view of the countryside and forests beyond.

“For a bit extra, I can prepare hot baths for you,” Carrie offered.

“Yes, thank you, that would be wonderful. One for each of us, please,” Tara replied. She threw her hat on the bed and went to look out the window. Blackthorne pulled out his wallet and handed Tara a one dollar note.

“I hope this covers the cost of the baths and the help with the luggage,” he smiled. His voice was deep and pleasant. Carrie caught him looking down the opening of her dress, taking in her spectacular bare breasts, as she was bending down to put the bag on the floor. She locked eyes with the man and favored him with a small smile.

“No charge for the help and, yes, that will pay for baths for a week,” Carrie confirmed. “I’ll give you a schedule and you can mark when you would like to bathe. Supper is at 6. You can come down then to the main dining room. Until then, please feel free to explore the main floor. There is a library down there and the newspaper is only a few days old. Or walk on the property. It has a lot of beautiful forest and dips down to the river on the south side.”

“I’d like to bathe before supper, if that is possible,” Tara said.

Carrie nodded. “I’ll get that ready and let you know.” She looked at the man. “And you, Mr. Blackthorne?”

“No, I’ll just washup here. I’ll bathe tomorrow and put it on your schedule.”

“Great.”

As Carrie was leaving, Tara called out, “Could you and I meet at 7, then?”

“Yes, that should be fine.” Carrie turned and walked out of the room. She was thinking about preparing the evening meal. The first thing to do, though, was to get a fire going to heat the hot water. She decided that if she was going to the trouble of preparing a hot bath, she might as well have one herself, later that night.

She went out to the back garden to get some vegetables, then started up the wood-burning furnace she used to heat the water tank. Soon, she had a tub of steaming, scented bathwater ready for her guest. Carrie went back up to the top room and knocked on the door. “The bath is ready, miss. Use it whenever you’d like, but it’s hot right now. It’s on the main floor.”

She heard muffled sounds from behind the door, then an out-of-breath voice called out. “Thank you! I’ll be there shortly.”

Carrie smiled. It did not take much to figure out what her guests were doing behind closed doors. But a part of her also felt a small spike of jealousy. It had been quite a while since she had last had a man’s thick cock between her legs. She put it out of her mind and went back to her business.

Later in the afternoon, as she was preparing the meal, she heard the sounds of someone coming down the stairs. Shortly after, she heard the sounds of the water running in the bath and splashes coming from the tub. She noted it had taken some time for the woman to come down to her bath. Blackthorne must have a lot of endurance in the sack, Carrie decided.

Carrie cleaned herself up before the meal and changed into a more presentable white dress. At least her tits were not spilling out of this dress, she thought to herself, but it still sported a low-dipping collar. She was proud of her breasts and she did not mind showing them off, especially to a woman like Tara Wells. Carrie smiled a bit at her sudden competitive streak. She wondered why the redhead was evoking those feelings in her. She let down her hair and brushed it out. She had long, thick golden hair that her estranged husband always told her was her best attribute. Right after her tits, hips, legs and pussy. He was always a charmer.

At 6, her guests came down and they made pleasant conversation over a meal of roast beef, potatoes and carrots. It was all very basic, but Carrie assured the others that the meals would become more elaborate once she had a chance to go into town the next day and do some shopping for better kinds of food. They assured her that the meal was very good and they did not need more elaborate food.

Tara had let her hair down. Her long red locks cascaded down her back. She was also wearing a comfortable-looking blue dress that hugged her curves in a flattering way. The collar on the dress was low and revealed a healthy amount of lush cleavage. Carrie noticed the woman’s big tits shifting under the dress and caught a flash of calf when she walked. She suspected the redhead was mostly naked underneath.

Blackthorne was dressed in a comfortable looking white shirt and some soft pants. He had left his guns in his room, though Carrie was sure he had some kind of firearm secured in the light jacket he was wearing.

The two boarders and Carrie enjoyed the comfortable meal and pleasant conversation. However, under the surface, Carrie felt a bit apprehensive. The woman, Tara Wells, did most of the talking. She asked probing questions about the difficulties involved in running a small farm and boarding house by herself. Blackthorne was mostly quiet, except to pipe in occasionally with an anecdote to illustrate or expand on some other part of the conversation. Carrie answered the questions as best she could. Ordinarily, this was information she would easily share. But something about the situation made her more guarded than usual.

At 7, after supper, Carrie led Tara into the house library, a large room just off the main door. The two women sat down.

Blackthorne had elected to go explore the property. The sun would not set for about another two hours, so there was enough daylight. Carrie had let him use one of the old horses she kept in the barn.

“So, what is this business you need to discuss with me, Miss Wells?”

The redhead pulled a document out of a valise she had brought down with her to supper. She passed the document to Carrie, who took it and looked at it quizzically.

“What’s this?” She held it up to the light. She scanned the document. She noticed the address of her house. Carrie’s eyes snapped to that spot on the page and she began reading.

“That is a deed to this house and the surrounding property,” Tara began. “I won this from a gentleman named Arthur McRae in a poker game in Seattle. I believe that this entitles me to take possession of this property.”

Carrie’s eyes flashed up and locked with those of the beautiful woman across from her. The green eyes stared back, completely clear and cool.

“What?” Carrie snapped. “That good-for-nothing pig left me a year ago! He took off with some whore! He has no right to gamble away my house and land!”

“I understand how you feel that way, Miss McRae,” Tara continued. “But the fact is that I have a piece of paper proving that I legally own this property.”

Carrie was enraged. She could barely contain her anger. She wanted to throw herself at the redheaded bitch across from her and tear out the woman’s hair by the roots, but she managed to restrain herself.

“What do you want?” Carrie finally asked. This might be some kind of shakedown.

“From you? Nothing at all,” Tara smoothly replied. “This house is right on a piece of land that is going to become much more valuable in the near future. My intention is to sell the property once the area prices start to climb. I have no objections to you continuing to live here until that happens or to you making a bid for the property when it goes on sale, but I would be very surprised if you could afford to pay the price that I intend to ask for the house and land.”

Now Carrie did see red. “You’re ‘letting’ me stay here? In my own house? Do you know how hard I’ve worked to keep this place going? And now you’re just barging in here, planning to throw me out, so you can sell it?! And you won it in a card game?!!”
Carrie’s voice was getting louder and angrier with each word. She could not believe this was happening.

“I understand how you feel, but the law is the law and business is business.”

Tara’s cold, clinical attitude was too much for Carrie to take. Her violent temper exploded. With a screech, she leaped to her feet. Before Tara could react, Carrie hurled herself at the redheaded beauty, determined to inflict some damage.

“You bitch!!” Carrie cried. Her hand lashed out and she slapped the beautiful face in front on her with an open-handed blow. Tara screamed out in pain and surprise, raising her hand to her stinging cheek. “You fucking bitch!!” Carrie struck with her other hand, catching Tara on the other side of her face, whipping her head to the side.

Both of Tara’s cheeks stung furiously. The redhead was shocked by this attack, but she was not the kind of woman to cower when faced with physical violence. She lashed out with her fist and punched Carrie hard in the stomach. As the blonde doubled over, Tara pulled up a leg and kicked Carrie away.

Carrie stumbled back several feet. Tara got to her feet, her eyes blazing with rage.

“You cunt!” Tara shouted. “How dare you strike me! Little bitch!”

She lashed out and caught Carrie’s face in a vicious, ringing slap that almost turned the blonde around. Carrie’s face burned, but she grew only more enraged. Screaming, she threw herself at her enemy, determined to sink her claws into the red hair and tear it out at the roots. Tara screeched as she hurled herself at Carrie. Both women went for the other’s hair. Sinking their fingers deep into their enemy’s thick, luxurious locks, they pulled furiously, yanking each other’s heads back and forth, as they struggled for control. Their powerful, voluptuous bodies rocked and lurched, their massive, unrestrained tits bounced furiously, and their muscled legs strained to maintain balance. Carrie was astonished that a city woman’s body seemed to be every bit as strong as her work-hardened one, but part of her appreciated this. She wanted this bitch to fight back so she could spend more time beating her to a pulp.

Tara cursed herself for not being more careful. Blackthorne had suggested being around when she broke the news of Carrie’s impending eviction to the blonde woman. However, Tara did not think that Carrie would react so violently so quickly. Most people needed to build up to that point. Tara was angry at herself for misjudging the situation so badly. But, deep down, another part of her thrilled to what she was doing now. She was a woman who had fought many catfights in her time and always secretly enjoyed them, much more than she would care to admit. Maybe getting Carrie into a catfight was something she had wanted from the start.

The first time she had met Arthur McRae, the seed was planted. She had wandered into a bar in downtown Seattle, one of her favorite places for playing high-stakes poker. She was wearing a forest green dress that left her golden-hued shoulders exposed and was held in place by her considerable breasts. The deep cleavage displayed was a distraction for the best players. Tara’s perfect tits were impossible to ignore.

She was making her way to a table to buy into a game when she overheard a man at the bar. He was well-dressed but his clothing was a bit shabby, worn too often and too long. What attracted her to him was the glowing way in which he was describing his wife, a woman he had evidently abandoned at some point in the past year. The man’s eyes were shining rapturously as he described his erstwhile wife’s charms.

“She’s beautiful, the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he said to an attentive group at the bar. “She looks fine in a dress, but when she is naked – my God, there is nothing like it. She is perfect. Just gorgeous.” The man traced his lamented wife’s hourglass figure with his hands. “And, my God, she was incredible in bed. God gave her an unbelievable body and she knew exactly what to do with it.” He sighed wistfully, clearly regretting his loss.

“So why did you leave her?” asked someone at the bar.

“Because she’s also a hellcat and a real nag. She wanted me to do all kinds of things around the house and the property. She had big plans about what we could do with the house. And I just am not a handyman. Plus, well, even the most beautiful pussy can seem old when a man is tempted by some new, willing little thing.”

All the men at the bar laughed.

Slightly intrigued, Tara swayed up to the bar, her hips swinging provocatively. Arthur McRae’s eyes almost bugged out when he saw her.

“Your wife sounds very impressive,” Tara purred, her smile dazzling, her green eyes like deep pools. ”How do I measure up to her?” She put her hand on her hip and cocked it. Her tits jiggled deliciously.

Arthur looked at her appreciatively, but he seemed to be giving the question honest consideration. “Meaning no disrespect, ma’am, I would have to see you naked to really answer that honestly.” The other people at the bar hooted. Tara grinned.

“My wife cleans up really nice,” the man continued. “If she put on that kind of dress, I think she would give even you a run for your money. But it’s when she has nothing on that you can really see what that woman is about.” Again, the man’s eyes glazed over in memory. Tara was surprised to feel a spike of jealousy. But then the man came back. “But you’re definitely the most gorgeous woman I’ve seen since I left Oregon!” The people at the bar hooted again and Tara smiled wider before going on to the poker table.

It was later in the night that Arthur joined the game and later still that she cleaned him out completely, causing him to put up the deed to his home for a final stake. Afterwards, he had begged her to return the deed, but a little bit of research revealed that the railroad was coming through the area and that the house and land around it would soon explode in value. Tara held onto the deed and made arrangements to come to this area and sell her new possession. But, in the back of her mind, there was also a building curiosity, a desire to see if Arthur’s abandoned wife really was as spectacular as her wayward husband made her out to be. Tara was very proud of her beauty, of her own reputation as the most gorgeous woman in any room, and the mythical woman Arthur worshiped got her competitive juices flowing.

When Tara had gotten off the carriage in the front yard and saw Carrie, at first she had been disappointed. Carrie was dusty and sweaty and her golden hair was a mess under her straw hat. But Tara looked more closely and quickly realized that these superficial factors actually enhanced the raw, animal sexuality of the blonde woman. Her ill-fitting dress was tantalizingly revealing, and what it revealed were hints of a body every bit as incredible as Arthur had claimed. Over supper, Tara had seen that the other woman did, indeed, clean up nicely. Deep inside, she felt the thrill of a challenge.

And now, here she was, exchanging blows with the blonde beauty. She had even sent Blackthorne away, so the chances of him intruding on their battle was small. Yes, her own mind worked in mysterious ways and her subconscious knew what her conscious mind refused to admit.

The two hellcats pulled each other around the parlor, screaming and spitting, hissing and growling, yanking viciously at the other woman’s beautiful locks until both women’s hair was loose and tossing wildly around their heads like unkempt manes. Tara used one hand to punch and claw at Carrie’s torso. She punched the blonde in the woman’s massive tits. Carrie screamed then returned the blow. Both women grabbed each other by the collar and tore open the front of the other’s dress almost to their navels. Their massive tits bounced freely, nearly spilling out of the openings.

Tara finally pushed Carrie away. Two meters apart, the two women panted and gasped, their eyes locked, both seething with rage and hate. Their bulging tits jiggled with every ragged pant. Their hard nipples tented the taut fabric, confirming that neither woman was wearing a bra. They were both filled with the raging desire to lock up with the other bitch.

“I’m not done with you, fucker,” Carrie snarled, pushing the hair out of her eyes. She looked wild and savage.

“I’m just getting started with you, bitch,” Tara growled in reply. She also pushed her red hair out of her face and brushed away the sweat trickling down her forehead. Both women had assumed wide-legged stances that strained their dresses. Impatiently, Carrie reached down and ripped her dress on the side. Her bare, powerfully muscled leg sprang free. She gathered up the torn fabric and tied it into a knotted tail on her hip. The dress fit snugly to her ass but barely covered her crotch in front. The act left her muscled legs completely exposed and free to move. She reached down and removed her shoes and stood barefoot, ready to sink her claws and teeth into her enemy and fight to the death.

Tara was not about to be outdone. She also ripped her dress from the hip all the way down her leg, relieving the restraining pressure. She tied the hanging fabric into a knot on her hip, getting it out of the way of her perfect, beautifully muscled legs, tying the dress just below her crotch. She reached down and unlaced her shoes, then threw them aside. In moments, the two women had been reduced to a primitive state, driven by their most primal instincts to dominate the other.

With their dresses torn and their legs free, naked almost all the way up to their crotches, Tara’s panties were exposed. They were simple white baggy panties, entirely appropriate for the dress. Carrie did not appear to have the same bunching cloth covering her privates. Tara realized the blonde woman was naked under her dress. The redhead refused to enter a battle like this on anything but equal terms with her enemy. Sneering at Carrie, she reached down and stripped off her panties, throwing them into the corner of the room, next to her shoes. Now the women were ready.

With a howl, the voluptuous redhead and blonde threw themselves at the other. They interlaced their fingers and locked hands. They strained, palm to palm, only for a few moments before they released their grips and wrapped their arms around each other. Tara and Carrie pulled the other in tight. Their massive tits crushed hard, the meaty titflesh surging out of the ripped-open collars to mash and rub directly, thick, dense flesh to flesh. A shock of pure erotic sensation rippled through both women and they groaned in unison. Their tan, bare legs tangled and knotted and they fell to the ground in a wriggling heap. Their naked legs thrashed and twined, then locked and strained, powerful muscles in quivering stalemate. The women reached up and pulled hair. They began to roll, their writhing bodies grinding furiously, their throbbing, aching tits rubbing and crushing, the bare flesh of their thrashing legs hot and slick. They locked into a ferocious catball and rolled from one end of the parlor to the other. They knocked over lamps and bookstands. The rug on the floor twisted out of place and chairs and tables shifted as their struggling bodies churned their way around the room.

The parlor filled with the sounds of pants and moans and curses as Tara and Carrie fought to overpower each other. Their powerful, luscious bodies undulated sinuously, twined into a knot of exposed flesh and tense, trembling muscle. Forehead to forehead, eye to eye, their gorgeous faces were etched in mutual hate. Their beautiful bodies dripped with sweat, soaking their dresses, making their skin slick and hot, but the women fought on, bucking and writhing as they rolled back and forth.

At some point, while she was on the top of the slowly rolling catball, Tara realized one of her massive tits had almost fully freed itself from her dress, and the thick nipple was exposed. The meaty gland was pressed tight into Carrie’s equally thick, dense titmeat. Tara shifted her throbbing orb until the nipple scraped along Carrie’s breast, digging into the meat as it moved, sliding into Carrie’s dress and finding its hot, hard counterpart. The women’s naked nipples crushed and rubbed, releasing an electrical charge so powerful that they screamed in unison. Gasping, crying out in shared pleasure, the women increased their grips on each other, their legs twisting even tighter.

“You dirty whore,” Carrie breathed raggedly.

“Fucking cunt,” Tara shot back.

The women rubbed their naked tits, deliberately grinding the meat as hard as they could. The erotic sensations were almost unbearable, especially to Carrie, who had been deprived of sensual contact for some time.

It got even worse when their dresses, already ripped and falling apart, began riding up, partly revealing both women’s asses and genitals. Neither battling Amazon had realized how exposed they were. Their lower bodies were already alive with the sensual stimulation from their churning, naked legs. On the bottom of the catball, Tara gripped Carrie’s powerful ass and realized that she was feeling more flesh than she had expected. A moment later, Carrie thrust down and delivered a solid pussy punch. The women gasped as they felt the thick mats of their pubic hair crushing and twining, as they felt the shock of the near impact on their swollen cunt lips. If either had tilted her pelvis just slightly, they would have had a direct meeting of twat to twat.

Tara and Carrie froze, both suddenly aware of what they were doing, how close they were to fucking each other. Their eyes locked. Tara realized this was what she wanted. She bucked up, returning the pussy punch. Both women grunted, their eyes glowing with shared rage, but also a touch of excitement.

“You fucking slut,” Carrie breathed.

“You cunteating whore,” Tara snarled back. They pushed at each other, feeling their bushes tangle, sensing the heat radiating off the other’s genitals, feeling the tension build within their lush, hungry pudenda…

Then Blackthorne stepped into the room.

When Blackthorne entered the parlor, he saw the incredible sight of two wild women, their luscious legs twined like vines, their torsos plastered together, their faces nose to nose, glaring and panting, snarling and gasping, pulling hair. Carrie was on top at that moment.

The man pulled the sweat-soaked, disheveled women apart with considerable difficulty. They did not want to let go of each other. Both wanted to keep fighting. He finally managed to pry them apart and held Carrie back as she strained to get at Tara. He held Tara back with his other arm.

“You fucking cunt!” Carrie screamed, rage contorting her beautiful face. “I’ll kill you, I swear to god, I’ll kill you before I let you take my house!”

“Bitch! Fucking slut!” Tara shot back. “I’m going into town tomorrow and I’m getting an eviction notice! I’m going to see you out of here on your fat ass if it’s the last thing I do!”

“Ladies, please,” Blackthorne pleaded. “This is no way to settle this dispute. Please, calm down and we can talk this out.”

“Fuck you,” Carrie snapped. “I want both of you out of my house.”

“This is my house, cunt,” Tara hissed. “We won’t be going anywhere!”

The women had calmed down, though both were like livewires, the slightest provocation enough to set them at each other’s throats again. They pulled their dresses back down to cover their crotches. They glared at each other from across the room. The women’s eyes roamed the other’s body. They were standing in shredded dresses that were barely staying on, their massive tits were almost exposed, their legs were naked, their feet were bare. They knew they looked like raging hillbillies, not decent, upstanding citizens. But neither woman cared.

With Blackthorne holding Carrie back, Tara gave the blonde a final glare. She grabbed her shoes and panties, then stomped up the stairs, her bare feet slapping, and slammed the door to her room.

Blackthorne released Carrie. The blonde woman looked around her ruined parlor. Now that the surge of rage and violence had passed, she seemed a bit stunned. Blackthorne began straightening up some of the furniture and picking things off the floor, but Carrie stopped him.

“Please, just go,” she said. “I”ll fix things here.”

He nodded and went upstairs to the room he shared with Tara. When he entered, he saw Tara standing naked by the washbowl. She was wiping the sweat and grime off of her magnificent, naked body. She started a bit when she saw him, then continued to clean herself up.

Blackthorne sat in a chair in the sitting area and watched her for a moment. “Well, that didn’t seem to go well.”

Tara did not respond for a moment. Secretly, she was pleased. She had found her fight with Carrie thrilling. A part of her had really wanted that confrontation and a growing part of her wanted more. But she sighed. “No, but I should have expected it. Well, things will be uncomfortable from now on, but I knew that would happen. Tomorrow, we’ll go into town and start working on an eviction notice.”

Blackthorne nodded, then looked out the upper storey window. The sun was getting low in the West. In another hour or so it would set, casting the world in a glorious orange glow.

To be continued:

Wildcats:Tara vs. Carrie: Part II

Carrie tidied the parlor and then went to her room on the second floor, two floors below her guests. She stripped off her ruined dress and pulled on a robe. She went to the tub room on the main floor and had a nice, warm bath, as she had planned. The water was hot; she had been warming it since the afternoon. She hoped the hot bath would relax her and take her mind off the terrible events of the evening, but nothing could do that. The thought that she could soon be out of her home, that she could lose what she had worked so hard to maintain ever since her deadbeat husband had fled, filled her with rage and despair. To lose it all to a cunt who won a piece of paper in a poker game! It was too much.

Carrie retired to her bedroom. Naked, she brushed out her hair sitting in front of her dresser. She examined herself in the mirror. There were a few bruises, a few claw and slap marks, but nothing too serious. Carrie knew that she was a beautiful and voluptuous woman. She had been told this her whole life and she had eyes. She knew that her body was incredible, but she had never been tempted to make her living with her body and her beauty. She had been underestimated her whole life because of her beauty and her personality was not one that could use that prejudice to her advantage.

She pulled on a full-length nightshirt, the only thing she wore to bed, and slipped under the sheets. She did not know what tomorrow would bring, but she was apprehensive about having to face the two intruders in her house in the morning.

As her thoughts wandered over the day, she felt her mind going back to the fight with Tara. Part of her hated that she had given into her rage so easily, that she and the other woman had ended up rolling around on the floor, biting and clawing and tearing at each other like animals. But, as she remembered the feeling of being locked body to body with the redhead, she was left breathless by a surge of arousal. She remembered the sensations of their meaty tits meeting and struggling, mass to mass, of bare, sweaty titmeat crushing and sliding on sweat, of naked legs interlocked and straining, flesh and muscle against flesh and muscle. She remembered rolling and rolling, bodies writhing, warring with each other. The sensation of bare nipple grating on bare nipple, the feeling of pubic hair tangling, the heat from a burning cunt so close to her own hungry twat…

Carrie gasped. Her body was amazingly aroused. It had been many months since she had last had close physical contact with another person. Several months before, she had taken one of her boarders to bed. She had ridden him all night, draining him dry, exploding on him and under him like a volcano. What she had done with Tara seemed almost the same to her, but without a satisfying conclusion.

Carrie tossed and turned. A little after 11 PM, she heard the sound of footsteps in the hallway. She listened carefully. From the weight, from the sound of how they fell, she guessed it must be Blackthorne. She tensed. She wondered if he was planning to come and kill her. It would a convenient way to nip in the bud any conflict over the property. The thought flared to life in her mind and she began to reach for the pistol she kept in her night table. But the footsteps passed her door. She relaxed. Blackthorne was going downstairs. She listened hard. After a few moments, she thought she heard the kitchen door to the back porch opening and closing. She wondered what Blackthorne was doing.

After a few minutes, Carrie got up from the bed. Her bare feet were cold on the hard wooden floorboard. She considered bringing her gun with her, then decided against it. She left her bedroom, walked carefully down the hall, and crept down the stairs to the kitchen. She stopped at the kitchen door and looked out on the back porch. Blackthorne was sitting in one of the porch chairs, staring up at the night sky and smoking a cigarette. He was wearing a shirt that was open to the air and a pair of boxer shorts. His long legs were stretched out in front of him and his feet were bare.

Carrie watched him for a moment. She pushed open the door and stepped out onto the deck.

Blackthorne started, then nodded at her. He relaxed back in the chair. “I beg your pardon, Miss McRae,” he said. “I hope my creeping around the house did not disturb you.”

“No,” Carrie said, standing beside the chair. She did not move to sit down on the other, adjacent chair, but remained standing, looking out at the yard and the forest beyond. The moon was only a crescent, but it illuminated the world in a fairy glow. “I was already disturbed.”

“Yes, I suppose that is so. I am sorry for the situation in which you find yourself…” he began. He stopped. Carrie had come to stand directly over him. She stared down at him. He could not read her expression in the dark, but he had enough experience to know what was coming next.

Without hesitation, Carrie began to undo the buttons on her nightshirt. In moments, the garment hung open. Blackthorne could discern the outlines of a voluptuous naked body. Carrie reached up and slipped the shirt off her shoulders. She bunched it up and threw it onto the neighboring chair. Blackthorne let his eyes roam over the incredible body displayed before him, glowing in the moonlight. Carrie was perfection itself. Her heavy tits hung thick and round before him, the nipples engorged. Her belly was flat and beautifully muscled, sculpted in lightly defined ridges. Her legs were muscular and shapely, her hips wide and inviting. She was standing with her legs slightly apart and he could see the outline of her cuntlips, he could see the shadings of her juicy slit. He felt his erection almost erupt from his boxers.

Carrie dropped to her knees before the erect man. She wrapped his swollen phallus in her hand through his shorts and squeezed gently. The man gasped. She began pulling his shorts down his body. Blackthorne raised his butt off the chair and Carrie quickly slipped the shorts over and down his ass, down his legs, and threw them aside on the porch. Now he was naked, except for his shirt. His massive prick swelled up like a rock-hard column from between his legs.

Carrie stroked the shaft carefully, gently, caressing it with expert fingers. “It’s nice and big,” she whispered. It had been a while since she had taken an aroused cock so enormous between her legs or in her mouth. But she was more than ready for it. Carrie lowered her head and began licking the man’s shaft, then sucking it carefully, her tongue teasing the tip of his prick, exploring the sensitive flesh around the head. She licked the cock from root to tip, covering it slowly in a coating of spit, biting and nibbling gently at the throbbing shaft. She reached down and fondled and licked Blackthorne’s balls, sucking gently on each one as he trembled with pleasure.

Carrie moved so she was closer to the sitting man, then swallowed his engorged penis, taking it all the way into her throat. Blackthorne moaned, almost overwhelmed by the sensation as his cock was surrounded by the hot, wet suction of Carrie’s mouth and throat. Carrie’s heavy tits pushed onto his knees. He grabbed her hair and guided her head up and down on his prick. Her teeth gently scraped the pulsing flesh. He moaned in ecstasy as she carried him to the edge.

Just when Blackthorne felt he would explode, Carrie released him. She sucked and licked at his cock a bit more, then kissed the head and sucked hard, before getting back on her feet. “Lie down on the deck,” she ordered.

Blackthorne slid off the chair and removed his shirt. Completely nude, he lay down on the deck. His cock throbbed, aching with the need for release. It pointed straight up at the sky. Carrie squatted over him, her feet on either side of his hips, and gripped the massive shaft in her soft hand. She squeezed again, stroking the thick meat, then slowly, slowly, lowered her wet, aching cunt down onto the man’s swollen prick. Blackthorne groaned as he felt his incredibly sensitive cock swallowed inch by exquisite inch by the hot, wet, incredibly tight twat of the beautiful woman on top of him. Carrie slowly impaled herself on the man’s massive shaft. She savored the sensation of him sliding all the way into her, of his cock forcing itself into her tight, strong slit, splitting and stretching the succulent meat. She finally sat down completely, her pubic hair mingling and tangling with the man’s. He was balls-deep inside of her. Carrie rocked her hips, moving herself up and down on the massive cock, squeezing and releasing with her inner vaginal muscles, massaging the thick shaft. Blackthorne reached up and filled his hands with her massive, bouncing tits, squeezing and massaging the dense meat, twisting the hard, nipples and caressing the rough areola. Carrie moaned and cried out. She arched her back and ran her hands through her lush mane as the pleasure built and built in her core. Her body glistened as beads of sweat broke out over her smooth skin. She twisted her hips as she rode Blackthorne, using his monstrous cock to churn her insides, to stretch and probe her inner vaginal walls, to stroke her most sensitive inner nerves. Her clit pulsed, radiating fire through every nerve in her lush body. She reached down and sank her fingers into the man’s muscular chest. Blackthorne moaned and gasped, his cock swollen to its fullest size, the pressure in his dick almost unbearable, the electric sensations rippling through the pulsing flesh filling him to the breaking point.

Carrie threw back her head and cried out as a powerful orgasm rocked her body. Her cunt spasmed, squeezing and releasing, clamping hard on the shaft buried in its depths. She came hard, squirting out on Blackthorne’s stomach and crotch. At the same moment, the man shouted an agonizing groan and came hard, releasing his hot ejaculate deep in Carrie’s core, bucking his hips in ecstasy. She grunted in pleasure as she felt the powerful discharge inside of her.

Carrie collapsed onto Blackthorne’s chest. They were panting raggedly. Sweat slicked their satiated bodies. Blackthorne ran his hand on the curve of Carrie’s perfect back, down to her glorious, heart-shaped ass. He ran a finger up and down her ass crack, stroking her, teasing her anus. His still-hard prick throbbed deep inside her hungry twat.

After a time, Carrie pushed herself up. She stood up and released the man’s prick from her hungry pussy. His softening penis slid out of Carrie’s body. A thick strand of ejaculate connected Carrie’s pussy to Blackthorne’s prick, but she snapped it with her finger and sucked it up.

“Thanks,” Carrie said. “I needed that.” She picked up her nightshirt and pulled it on. She buttoned up some of the buttons in the middle, but left most of them undone. Her tits jiggled in the waxing light of the moon, her hard nipples indented the white fabric.

“Thank you,” Blackthorne said. He got to his feet, a bit unsteady. The woman was a tremendous fuck and he felt drained. “I’d better get back to bed. I don’t want Tara to miss me.”

“No, you wouldn’t want that, would you?” Carrie said. She sat down on the deck chair and crossed her bare legs. She said nothing else. After a moment, Blackthorne found and pulled up his shorts, pulled on his shirt, and went back inside.

The man made his way up the stairs to the top floor. He slipped into the bedroom. He listened carefully and heard Tara breathing deeply. Blackthorne stripped his shirt and shorts and returned to bed. He debated cleaning himself off at the washstand, but decided doing so would probably wake Tara. Besides, he and Tara had already fucked several times this evening. He was sure she would not be able to detect his recent transgression. He was asleep moments after his head hit the pillow.

Beside him, Tara stirred. She could smell the pungent odor of fresh cum, male and female. She knew the female scent was not hers. She knew exactly what had happened. She was not even slightly upset about Blackthorne’s lack of loyalty. She expected no more from the man. But her entire body shivered with powerful sensations of lust and erotic energy. What Carrie had just done with Blackthorne was a challenge directed at her. Tara was more than ready to answer it.

Leaving the sleeping man in the bedroom, Tara made her way into the hall. She was wearing a long sleeping shirt almost identical to the one Carrie wore. She was completely naked under the shirt.

Barefoot, she padded down the long halls of the house and made her way down to the second floor. She paused outside of Carrie’s room, but something told her the blonde was not there. She thought about it. She knew that Blackthorne went for a smoke. That meant the front or back porch.

Tara continued through the dark house, descending the stairs to the first floor. She moved as quietly as she could. She went to the front porch first and looked out. No one was there. She made her way back to the kitchen and looked out onto the back porch. A powerful sensation roared through her body when she saw Carrie sitting in one of the deck chairs, staring up at the crescent moon.

Tara took a deep breath. She checked her entire body. She was powerfully aroused. Her tits were thick and heavy and tingling, her nipples were engorged, a powerful throbbing heat was spreading through her body from her pulsing clit. Her pussy was wet and hot. Tara opened the door and stepped out on the porch.

Carrie looked up when the other woman appeared. Their eyes locked. A powerful surge of energy roared through both women. Any lingering doubts either woman had about what they were about to do washed away. What they had started this evening demanded to be settled. Now, they were going to settle it in the most intimate way two women could.

Tara stood beside the chair where Blackthorne had been sitting. The women stared at each other for one, two minutes. Their chests heaved as their bodies grew more excited, more ready for the impending confrontation. Tara began to unbutton her nightshirt. In moments, it was open all the way down. Slowly, her eyes never leaving Carrie’s, she pulled the garment off her shoulders, then dropped it in the chair beside her.

Carrie’s eyes roamed hungrily over the magnificent woman before her. She licked her lips. Tara’s body was incredible, every bit as beautiful and voluptuous as her own. This woman was her equal in every way. Carrie felt threatened deep in her womanhood, but she was also excited beyond words at this primal challenge. Somehow, even the prospect of eviction did not matter in that moment. All that mattered was matching herself against this bitch and fighting it out.

Carrie’s body was on fire. The fuck with Blackthorne had been, at best, an appetizer. This was the main course. She stood up and faced Tara. She undid the buttons on her nightshirt and slipped it off. She dropped it in her chair.

Carrie and Tara studied the other’s nude body. Tara had to grudgingly admit that Arthur McRae’s assessment of his wife’s beauty was remarkably accurate. Tara was a stunningly beautiful and voluptuous woman who was aware of her own beauty and body. Tara felt that the bitch before her challenged her body in every way. She had to know which of them was the better woman.

The nude women continued to stare at each other, examining and comparing every inch of the other to herself. To their mutual irritation, neither could find any flaw with her rival, any way in which the other woman was not her equal. Their heaving chests and panting breath revealed their growing arousal. Just as Tara was about to close the distance between their luscious bodies, Carrie held up her hand.

“Let’s do this in the forest,” Carrie rasped. Her throat was tight with tension. “There’s more room there, and we won’t have to worry about the noise.”

Without waiting for an answer, Carrie walked to the porch stairs, then down to the yard. She crossed the sandy ring that acted as a driveway for carriages and stepped onto the grass beyond. She continued, heading towards the line of trees not far from the main house.

Tara followed Carrie into the trees. The blonde woman was walking a well-trodden path. They traveled about another 30 meters until they came out in an open glade. Carrie moved into the middle of the glade, stopped and turned around. Tara walked up to her and stopped about a meter away.

The crescent moon shone down on Tara and Carrie as they faced each other. Their bodies trembled in anticipation of what they were going to do to the other. They could not wait any longer. They had teased and taunted enough. Their patience was gone. They both needed body to body contact. They needed to fuck.

To be continued: