One-Punch Story : Mrs Blanchard's defeat

[maskedwriter]

A guy requested a one-punch story. Here it is.

Mrs Blanchard?s defeat

By the Masked Writer

It was a short fight, alright, but it had been me brewing in the pot for a long time. It actually had started since Geraldine had moved in the neighborhood. Mrs Blanchard could not stand her from the beginning. You see, the people in the neighborhood were mostly retired as in many places in Florida. And Mrs Blanchard, a relatively good looking widow in her early fifties, used to draw a lot of attention from the local male population. It must be said that she worked a lot in order to get that attention.
She stepped on any occasion she had to go around as scantily clad as she dared, and for a woman her age, she dared a lot.
The day of the fight, for instance, she wore a leopard-like skimpy bikini with a pareo. Actually these kind of attire did not do her service. She did not really have the kind of body you need to wear this kind of suits. Granted, she once had. But that was in the days of the Woodstock festival. Then she was a stunning 5 feet 8 slim brunette. Now she was still 5 ft 8 but a bleached blond and she was more on the chubby side. Weighed around 165-70. And very little of that was muscle.
When she lifted her arms you could see soft flesh dingle-dangle. Her ample breast (DD cup at least) quivered like as much jelly when she walked and so did the saddlebags on her hips and thighs. Her flabby buttocks looked like they were trying to get out of her bikini, and so did her round, soft, pot-belly. The flesh that showed between the two pieces of her bikini included more than a few love handles.
But then, as I said, the average age in the neighborhood was a little above 60. So she was the best there was around and there was not enough hours in a day for the men to look at her as much as they would have liked.
That was before Geraldine moved in, I mean. A young single white woman in that suburb : it had not been seen since the 1970?s. And a good-looking one at that. Actually, Geraldine was more than good-looking. She was a knockout. Short, 24 yrs-old, about 5, 3 and about 120 pounds. Long, natural, blond hairs. Blue eyes. And a body ! She was a gym instructor and practiced swimming, running, aerobics, a few weights and in winter, she went in Colorado and other places for skiing.
The old men around were literally on their knees. She saw it, of course, and played along. None of them really thought he had a chance but she did as if they did and they enjoyed the illusion. It was all a running joke but Mrs Blanchard did not think it was funny. The other women around were all too happy to encourage the newcomer, just to piss her off. It was their revenge for all those years when she went around their husbands.
Another thing Mrs Blanchard did a lot was drinking. She was already a bit of a bitch, but when she was drunk she could become really nasty.
So that evening, there was some kind of a social event at local beach. There was a bar under the palm trees and Mrs Blanchard, in her leopard bikini, had quite a few drinks. Her legs were still supporting her but her speech was beginning to sound a little odd. Then Geraldine came. Actually she had been at the beach for part of the day, drawing attention from the men in her blue and red bikini. Her body was firm toned and tan. Her CC-cup breast was just perfect and her muscled legs looked like they belonged to a panther. At the end of the day, she decided she wanted a drink and went at the bar where Mrs Blanchard was doing a number on one of her neighbors, ex-army guy in his late sixties. He paid attention to her as long as Geraldine did not come within visual range. Then Blanchard went out of his radar and she could see it. Her face became purple and, holding her cocktail glass, she walked towards Geraldine and stopped when they were practically toe to toe. She towered the younger blonde.
-? What are you doing here ? You, young slut ! ? She roared.
Geraldine, at first was taken aback and did not know what to answer.
-? What ? ? She said.
- ? I mean flaunting your meat around like a whore ! Get out of here ! ? Was Mrs Blanchard?s next words and she shoved Geraldine, who made a few steps backward, almost loosing her balance.
- ? Hey ! ? she protested ? What is it with you ? You should quit drinking and go to sleep ! ?
Mrs Blanchard seemed to hesitate for a few seconds. Then she threw her cocktail right at Geraldine?s face. Geraldine was practically blinded and she screamed as the tacky liquid and the cold ice cubes hit her naked flesh. She could not see quite right yet when Mrs Blanchard shoved her again. She felled on her behind. Happily, they were on sand and she did not hurt herself. Mrs Blanchard laughed. She put her empty cocktail glass on the counter and took a handful of olives, which were there in little plates for the customers, and started pitching them at Geraldine who was still trying to clear her eyes. The little green fruits bounced on her shoulder and her ribs, and one simply dropped right in her cleavage, between her perfectly round breasts. It made her shriek. And it made the older woman laughed even more. She mocked Geraldine?s shriek with exaggerated mimics, bouncing around, which made her abundant flesh quiver and wriggle.
Geraldine finally got rid of the olive, cleared her eyes and walked towards Mrs Blanchard.
Her face was white with rage but she was still controlling herself.
- ? That?s the last time I tell you : stop that and go away ! ?.
Mrs Blanchard stood up to her, toe-to-toe and almost breast to breast in spite of their height difference. Let?s just say that Mrs Blanchard reached much further down than Geraldine?s rock-like ones. She looked down at the young woman and said :
-? Oh ! And will you do to me, if I don?t, shortie ? ?
At that stage, Geraldine was still keeping her cool. But then Mrs Blanchard slapped her.
Not much of a slap. It barely touched Geraldine perfect face. But it was enough.
With one, quick, precise, powerful move, Geraldine threw a right hook to Mrs Blanchard?s midsection, literally burying her fist into the soft flesh under the plexus.
Mrs Blanchard doubled over with a long, painful sigh. Covering her belly with her hands, she tried to redress but couldn?t. She was completely winded out. Her legs wavered and she fell on her knees. She put her right hand on the ground and tried to help herself up, but there was no power left in her body. She fell face down, her nose in the sands. She managed to roll on the side and everybody could see her sand-stained face was white and her whole body, front head to toe, covered in shiny sweat. Geraldine simply looked down at her for a moment, and then walked away, with a very sexy balance of her perfect hips and butts.
Mrs Blanchard was still on the ground, trying to breathe. Every breath was painful and she just lied there, sighing and crying, tears rolling on her face, dirtying it with cheap make-up. She massaged her flabby belly. Then she had a hiccup, rolled face down and vomited her five last cocktails and everything she had eaten during the day on the beach?s sand.
She was in pain and, what?s more, had never been so embarrassed. It took her another few minutes before she could get up and walk, her legs barely carrying her.
She never talked to Geraldine again. Actually she never looked at her in the eyes again. She moved out a few weeks later.

The End

[MikeJV]

*laughing* That was a good one... loved it!

MikeJV