Girl Fight (Rough Lesbian Fight Sex)

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Authors: Dalia Daudelin
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with what's under it, or shorts so the other boys don't?
    Then it dawns on me. Sometimes you just have to take risks, and I decided to take a risk. What do guys like the most?
    Hot little sluts. So I put on my tightest jeans and lowest shirt. My bra pushes my tits up so high that it's almost uncomfortable, but as I look at myself in the mirror I know that it's exactly what I needed. Time to go steal the hottest boy in school.
     
    The party is already booming as I pull up. I have never been early a day in my life and I have no intention of anyone ever seeing me be awkward all by myself. The beer is sitting in big steel kegs on the counter. There's already an empty one that's been tossed in the corner. I grab a cup and stand at the end of the beer line. No reason to cause a scene just yet, not when things with Jack are still on the line. Jack is one of those special boys with rich parents, but he's not an asshole.
    The beer is cheap stuff and tastes like it's been watered down, but I keep sipping on it anyway. After half the cup is gone I can't even taste it. Jack is surrounded by girls as usual, and I need to scare them off eventually. But a smart girl waits for her chances. I pretend I'm planning for a war, like I'm a great general. I know my way is going to get me on his arm sooner rather than later. Only a matter of time.
    “... looked great up there.” This blonde bitch's lips are moving and her eyes are on my man. I'm no slouch, I learned how to fight from my degenerate big brother, and he's a golden gloves champ. I could just hit her and she'd be down on the ground crying or blacked out. But again—better to wait for the right moment.
    “Yeah, no doubt!” I put on my best friendly smile and let all the girls see me flash it at Jack.
    The music is loud and even though I'm standing close by and listening carefully for one of them to slip up and say something stupid enough for me to jump on—without seeming like I was picking a fight, of course—I couldn't hear most of what they said. I got the gist of it, though.
    The usual bullshit girls say when they're going off to college, about how the world is a big open place for them, and so inspiration. I know where most of them will be every night, at parties like this one spreading their legs for any guy who happened to give them the right look when they were the right amount of hammered.
    Jack says nothing. He plays it cool, like he always does. Finally I just get sick of listening to them and pull Jack out onto the dance floor. The ignorant bitches follow us, each of them grinding on him, on me, on whoever they could find to look sexier. One of them touched my breasts and that's where I made my move.
    “Don't touch me, you slut!”
    The redhead who was quiet the whole time, almost like she had been waiting for something too, gets in my face. She's so tall that she has to lean down to yell over the music.
    “It was an accident, dumb-shit! Who the hell would want to touch you?”
    “What did you say to me?” I shout, pushing her. She pushes me back.
    “You fucking heard me, cunt. You heard me!”
    At this point I look around the room and realize that now isn't the time. She's completely fucked up my mood and Jack has backed away. I throw her a dirty look before slinking through the crowd and grabbing myself another cup of beer. I walk out, angrier at having been shown up than over any lost chances with some fucking boy. How dare she?
    I'm halfway to my car when I realize that I'm too drunk to drive, and my girl is too pretty to wreck. It's hardly much to pay and I don't want to worry about the car. Not like the redhead slut is going to touch it. What is her name? I know she was in one of my classes... was it Calculus?
    Ah. She's Jessica.
    No, she's too chicken to touch my car. I turn a corner, planning to wait in front of the hardware store for my ride. I feel a hand against my shoulder, strong and firm. It pulls me around.
    “I wasn't fucking done with you, you

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