TRACK
MEET
By
Traci Cutler
The
silky-haired brunette lowered the camera to her lap again. The woman had just
lifted her head from her husband's lap, and it looked like they were talking.
Now the passenger door opened. She had all but one picture she needed. Her
hands trembled as she lifted the camera again, zooming in on her husband's car,
waiting for the unknown bimbo to get out so she could identify her. A pair of
long swung out and Maria snapped two more pictures from the 35mm Nikon as she
turned, leaned in and blew her husband a kiss goodbye. Maria grimaced,
whispering, "cunt" as she recognized her.
She was almost sure that her husband's lover was the female gym teacher and
track coach. Tall, blonde, and from
Dan,
who taught chemistry and coached water polo, had been staying late at the
school to "grade papers" and "prepare for the upcoming
playoffs". Yeah, he was preparing all right. She watched in disgust as the
lofty Swedish home-wrecker tossed her blonde hair to one side, opened the door
to her car, and climbed in. Her two-timing husband backed out of his space and
headed out of the school parking lot.
Maria
went to the gym, locked herself in a stall, and had a good, long cry. After
that, she sat on the toilet, regaining her composure. Then she planned the
meeting.
******
She
decided to wear something simple, not extravagant, but also that showed Miss
She
walked up to Ingrid Johansson just as the coach finished her daily run around
the field, after all her track students had left. It was about 5pm.
"Hello,
Miss Johansson," she smiled as the leggy blonde dabbed her neck and
forehead with a towel.
"Hello,"
Ingrid flashed a brief smile. "What can I help you with?"
"My
name is Maria. Maria Foster."
Ingrid
kept walking and nodded, as if she were about to hear a complaint from a mother
about her daughter not getting enough of a role on the track team.
"Oh,
you're going to play dumb with me?" Maria asked, stopping in between the
two portables near the phys ed building.
Ingrid
stopped, turned and looked at her. The blonde hair was in a ponytail, and sweat
darkened her midriff cut gym shirt, and the waist of her tiny running shorts,
which were cut so tight they looked more like large panties. Her blue eyes bore
into Maria's without a word.
"I
know about you and my husband, so let's just cut all the play-acting,"
Maria said, folding her arms.
Ingrid
glanced briefly at the ground, then brought her eyes back up to the attractive,
olive-skinned Maria. "I see..." she said, nodding.
"I'm
coming to you as a woman, hoping to appeal to another woman's senses,"
Maria went on. "It's simple. I could be a bitch, and give these pictures
to the principal--" she held up her Nikon camera and then stuffed it back
in her purse--" and your teaching career, along with Dan's, would be in
ruins. I saw you with him last night. What’s in this camera leaves little doubt
about what was going on in my husband’s car." Maria nodded toward the parking
lot where she had seen the last few moments of an apparent blow-job the night
before.
Ingrid
said nothing, just stood, her arms folded, her thin lips slightly pursed in
concentration.
"The
easiest route here," Maria said, her plan unfolding just as she had hoped,
"is for you to consider Dan a memory. Dan transfers to another school,
nothing is ever said, and you never see me--or him--again. I trust that you
will agree with me on that."
Ingrid
looked at the ground again. It was working. Dignity, diplomacy, Maria's mother
had taught her. Don't lose your cool. Just win your battles with tact, and move
on.
Ingrid
said nothing.
"I'll
take that as a complete confession, and a complete agreement," Maria said,
satisfied that she had done well here; she hadn't raised her voice or
cried, though she came close. A surgical, easy end to it all.
"Speaking
for myself, and my husband, then, Miss Johansson, I’ll say, ‘goodbye’."
Maria turned to leave when Ingrid finally spoke.
"I
give him what he craves, and what he does not get from you, Maria."
The
words stopped Maria in her tracks. Without turning around, she said in a cold
voice, "I won't even go there. Just
say it is over, and you won't be dragged through anything ugly."
"A
man as sweet, good, and handsome as Dan," Ingrid said evenly, "should
have the pleasures he seeks. And as long as he comes to me, I will give it to
him if you will not."
Maria
whirled and faced her, taking two steps that brought her within a few inches of
the sweat-tinged blonde. "You--" she said, her teeth gritting
together "will leave him alone! I thought we just agreed on that."
Ingrid,
four inches taller than Maria, smiled menacingly at her. "He loves the way
I suck him. You hardly ever go down on him, Maria. I know, he tells me."
Her Scandinavian accent was soft, barely noticeable, but just evident enough to
make Maria hate her even more.
Maria's
mouth dropped in disbelief. "I cannot believe what I am hearing. And not
that's it's any of your business, but I sucked my husband off just this
Thursday night!"
Ingrid
smirked. "That's because I told him to ask you for it. It was my
request."
Maria
tilted her head. "What?? What in the world do you mean it was your
request?"
Ingrid
almost giggled now. "When you sucked him off Thursday night, lovely Mrs.
Foster, he had just left my apartment, where he had fucked me in the ass.
Did his cock taste a little different to you that night?”
Maria's plan
to be dignified and diplomatic crumbled in that one stunning statement from
Ingrid. "You filthy bitch!" she cried, and, before she could even
think about it, she swung and slapped the tall blonde. Ingrid stepped back and
held her cheek, but she still had the remnants of a smirk on her face.
"That,"
Ingrid said slowly, "was stupid."
Maria
stepped forward again, and her breasts brushed Ingrid's. "If you want it
this way, you slut, then my lawyer and I will drag both of you through---
"--UGH!"
Maria grunted in surprise and pain as Ingrid's fist slammed into her stomach.
"Don't
you threaten me, woman!" Ingrid said through clenched teeth. "And
don't strike me, either!" Ingrid immediately brought a right cross
crashing against Maria's pretty chin, and the pretty wife tumbled
backwards onto the grass.
She
sat up quickly, rubbing her chin, mouth open in shock. She slid her
purse off her shoulder. Amazed that the woman had hit her this hard, Maria
scrambled to her feet, and charged the taller woman angrily, head down, arms
flailing. One of her whirling fists beat down on Ingrid's 34d breasts,
but the track coach quickly caught the smaller woman's wrists and pushed
her back to arm's length. Maria, her pouty lips set in a snarl, kicked at
Ingrid and caught her knee.
"Damn
you!" she barked in frustration, unable to hit her while Ingrid held her
arms in check.
Ingrid
frowned as pain shot through her knee, and her calm Swedish face suddenly
creased with anger and determination. She pulled Maria closer suddenly.
"Foolish
bitch," she whispered hotly, her breath puffing against Maria’s hair and
blowing a few dark strands up. She yanked down hard on one of Maria's
wrists, then twisted it deftly, spinning the petite latina into a
painful armlock.
"Let
go of me...." Maria panted, trying to jab backward with her free elbow.
One caught Ingrid's rib, but failed to loosen her grip.
Ingrid
clenched her teeth and wrapped up the brunette in a headlock, bringing her face
to her bare ribs. Maria tried to bite her there, and Ingrid cursed in Swedish,
then pumped her knee up into the slighter woman's tummy. With a sickening thud,
Maria felt the air leave her and she went briefly limp. Ingrid let her drop to
the ground, then quickly got behind her and clamped a bearhug on her as the
darker girl sat wheezing. Maria felt panic shoot through her as she realized
she was getting the worst of this unexpected encounter, and just as she moved
to twist to her side Ingrid pulled her top up, reached around from behind, and
clawed her breasts with her pale, bony fingers.
Maria
shrieked, not even thinking who would hear, though the shadows were lengthening
and the school was empty now.
Ingrid's
face was near her ear. "He told me he likes to play with your
nipples...like this..." she hissed at the stricken wife. She rolled the
brown nipples in her fingers, then pinched hard.
"AGHHHHHhhhhstoppppp...."
Maria whimpered, her body arching in Ingrid's persistent grip.
Desperate
to get free, Maria Foster snaked her arm down behind her and between the two
women, and found Ingrid's crotch. She clutched the cottony mound as hard as he
could, fingernails digging into the cotton-clad vulva, and Ingrid wailed in
pain. The Swede coach let go of her adversary and rolled away from her, and
Maria scrambled to all fours, taking rapid gulps of air to try and recover from
the knee she had taken to the midsection. Her top was rolled up and crooked
around her neck, so she whipped it off and threw it at Ingrid as the Swede
advanced on her, both women red-faced and panting. Ingrid, her eyes on the
darker woman, dodged the top and kept coming. She was breathing heard, but she
conditioned daily, and had plenty of reserve left.
Ingrid
took a moment to smile at her rival. Maria's long brown hair was tousled, and
bits of grass stuck to her locks as she stood there in only her tiny denim
shorts.
"You’re
prettier than I imagined. But ever since he told me what a cold bitch you were,
I have wanted to slap that face of yours, even though I had never seen you. Now
I want to even more."
Maria
breathed deeply, her perfect breasts rising and falling as she stood with her
legs apart. "You....fucking.....bitch..." she said with venom. With a
shriek of effort, she charged Ingrid, aiming for her top, and grabbed it. The
momentum of her charge sent both females crashing against the outside wall of
one of the portables. The women staggered in each other's grip as they groped
and clawed for leverage, bumping and thudding along the wooden slats. The
daylight was only a dull glow on the horizon, and their battle was lit now only
by the orange sodium vapor lights on the roofs of the wooden buildings. Maria,
squealing with effort, kept a hold of Ingrid’s top and pulled with all her
might, trying to bring the taller woman to the ground. She couldn’t down her,
but with a satisfying rrrrrip Ingrid's sweaty workout top tore along
the side seam, and then came wide open. As the women grunted and entangled
against the wall, the top slid off of Ingrid’s tall frame and fell to the
grass. Ingrid's pale breasts mashed and bumped against Maria's now as the women
gripped each other's hair and fought for advantage.
Once
again, though, Ingrid's size and conditioning gave her the upper hand. She had
hurt Maria early, and she was able to overpower her enough to pin her against
the portable wall. She seized the shapely brunette by the throat, and banged
her head against the wooden slats. Maria's head swam as she had her head helplessly thudded against the portable
wall. Her 34c breasts jiggled as Ingrid gripped her throat and kept up the
hammering. A dull ache crept into Maria’s skull as she whined and squealed,
struggling to avoid the thumping. Maria got in two good punches, one against
Ingrid’s cheek, the other on her tit, and Ingrid grunted as the fists hit their
marks, but she stood fast, and locked Maria’s right arm down behind her again.
That left the unfortunate latina with just her left hand to defend herself, and
she was using it to try and pull Ingrid’s strong grip from her throat. Dizzy from the pounding of her head against
the wooden wall, Maria tried a desperate escape attempt: she dropped, slipping
through the blonde's grasp, her face sliding down Ingrid's fair skin until her
mouth was against the Swede's breast. She took Ingrid's nipple in her mouth and
bit down hard. Ingrid still had her wrist, and it hurt terribly, and with her
free hand Maria clawed at the other breast.
"AHHHCCH!!!"
Ingrid cried out, and gripped Maria’s hair, pulling to try and dislodge her foe
as she chewed on the nipple. Maria moaned but kept up her breast assault, until
Ingrid brought her knee up, catching Maria in the chin. Maria couldn't suffer
any more blows to the head, and with a clacking of her jaws she let go and
crumpled to her knees. In the brief moment that Ingrid backed up, Maria looked
up in woozy satisfaction when she saw a small trickle of blood leaking out of
the wounded nipple, surrounded by a circular smudge of her lipstick.
Ingrid held
her bitten mammary and frowned angrily. Maria, however, was in no shape to
celebrate that small victory. Her head had taken a terrible pounding, and she
knelt there for a moment, wavering, trying to regain her equilibrium.
"Goddamm..."
Ingrid whispered, surveying the damage to her breast. Before Maria could
struggle to her feet she grabbed the brunette by the hair and delivered a
flurry of open-handed slaps and backslaps to her lovely face. Maria's head
snapped to and fro with each blow, a high, wounded moan coming from her throat
each time Ingrid's hand punished her. Her hands went blindly in front of her,
unable to stop the slaps, and when she went to cover her head, Ingrid slammed a
well-aimed fist into her soft tummy.
Maria
gagged and sank further down, doubled over, her bottom high in the air as her
forehead rested on the grass. Her chest heaved, searching for oxygen, as the
angry Ingrid stepped over her fallen form.
What
Ingrid did next, Maria could have never imagined. Ingrid reached down and
grabbed the back of her jean shorts, and with the other hand scooped her under
her, across her chest. Maria was in no shape to resist at the moment, as she
was fighting for breath and strength as her head hung between Ingrid's calves.
Ingrid,
with a groan of effort, picked the slighter Maria right up off the ground,
lifting her entire body up sideways. Then, she widened her stance, like a
weight lifter about to clean and jerk, and pushed Maria up higher, over her
head.
"Nooooooo..."
Maria wailed pitifully.
Ingrid
grunted again, flexed her elbows, lowering the squirming and topless
Maria slightly, and then, with a shriek of effort, jettisoned the
29-year old woman's petite body through the air like an Olympic shotputter.
Maria,
legs and arms flailing helplessly, sailed like a raggedy Ann doll through the
air in a perfect arc, and landed with a loud thud in the grass five feet
away. She rolled in slow motion to her side, groaning and holding the
now tortured shoulder she had just landed on.
"ohhhhhhgoddddd...."
Maria croaked, shattered by the terrifying experience of being thrown through
the air by another woman. With trembling arms, she pushed herself up to all
fours, and with horror found herself staring down at Ingrid's tennis shoes. Two
long legs towered over her.
"You...c-can't.....have
hhimmm...." Maria Foster moaned, as she summoned all the strength she had
left. She reared up and swung her fist as hard as she could, hoping to strike
Ingrid in the groin, or anywhere, to hurt her and hopefully buy some time.
Her
fist breezed through empty air, however, as Ingrid simply stepped back and
avoided the desperate punch. Maria fell face down as the swing missed badly.
Ragged sobs bubbled from her throat.
“H-he’s….mmmine….”
Maria croaked, and with a shriek of effort, pushed up off the grass and lunged
at Ingrid, grabbing her around the legs. She pushed hard, trying to tackle the
tall woman, but Ingrid steadied herself and would not fall. The desperate
latina used her mouth again, and clamped her teeth into Ingrid’s left leg, by
her knee, and bit down.
Swedish
curses erupted from the young coach again, and she tore her legs from Maria’s
grasp. Maria, gaining a bit of fuel from knowing she had hurt her opponent,
pushed up and got to one knee, but just as fast got a backslap from Ingrid that
sent her tumbling to earth again. Ingrid
quickly checked her leg, finding only a red mark and some lipstick smudges, but
no broken skin.
Maria
rolled onto her tummy, unwilling to give up, though now the beatings were
taking their toll. She was moving in slow motion now. She started to push herself up again, moving
unsteadily to all fours, and a tennis shoed-foot came stomping down on the top
of her head. Maria's face slammed into the grass and her face hummed with pain,
then started to go numb. She clawed grotesquely at the earth, blades of grass
brushing her open mouth and her nose.
She
started to muster up the strength to push up again, but Ingrid was on her,
straddling her legs. Then, Maria was pummeled with a storm of powerful punches
to her back and kidney area that made a series sickening thuds when Ingrid hit
her.
“Ugh…ughh…ugh…ugh….”
she moaned as Ingrid beat her. Soft
hisses from Ingrid’s nostrils accompanied Maria’s painful grunts as each punch
landed.
Ingrid
stood, put her foot against the fallen brunette’s side, and shoved, rolling her
over onto her back. The young Swedish woman could taste her victory now. She
turned around, facing the Hispanic woman’s feet, and sat down on her breasts,
her buttocks spilling out of the tiny gym shorts and pressing against Maria's
chin. Maria, mouth open in agony, forced her head up and bit into the white
flesh of one of Ingrid’s buttocks right near the crevice where the fabric of
her gym shorts was buried.
“ACH—GODDAMIT!!”
Ingrid shouted. “You and that mouth of yours—“ She lifted her body up and then
slammed it back down onto Maria’s breasts, forcing more air out of her.
She
repeated this for good measure, and landed higher up on the failing brunette,
her buttocks slamming into Maria’s face this time as her crotch landed on her
neck.
Maria
gasped and coughed, making tortured hoarse noises as she inhaled. She was in no
shape to bite now. It was everything she could do to breathe.
Calmly,
Ingrid reached down and unbuttoned Maria's shorts, and then unzipped them. Then
she moved down on Maria's nearly paralyzed frame and pulled her shorts and
panties down together, exposing a dark, close-trimmed bush.
"st-ttopp....."
Maria pleaded through lips that felt like they were ballooning up from being
driven into the ground by Ingrid's foot moments earlier.
Ingrid
paid no attention to the woman's pleading, and wrestled the tight shorts and
panties down to Maria's knees. Then she moved off of her, grabbed the
dark-haired wife by the hair, and painfully brought her up. Had Ingrid let go
of her hair, Maria surely would have toppled over, she was in such
oxygen-starved agony now. She followed, puppet-like, as Ingrid pulled her to
her knees.
Ingrid,
kneeling next to the tousled, topless brunette, put her mouth near Maria’s ear.
"Now,"
she said, her breath hot and humid in Maria’s ear. "I am going to finish
you."
The
words struck terror deep into her heart, and Maria sobbed, trying to ask for
mercy but unable to move her lips.
Ingrid
drove her fist into the latina's dark, trimmed mound.
"Ughhkkkkkkkkkkk...."
Maria moaned, her voice strangled with pain. She fell forward onto Ingrid's
body, her mouth open against the top of Ingrid's breast.
Ingrid
stroked Maria’s hair as the smaller woman body quaked against her.
"Sweet
little Maria…can't even win a fight for her husband," Ingrid cooed,
enjoying the humiliation of her lover’s wife. Then she yanked Maria off her by
her hair again, and pulled her to her knees again, letting her hang there in her grip like some
trophy a hunter had just shot.
“If Dan ever decides to put his cock back into
that useless pussy of yours, you will remember this…”
Ingrid
cocked her arm back and delivered another vicious punch to Maria's pussy. Her
fist made a sickening thhhupp! as it pounded into the soft
labia. Maria lungs erupted in a deep, agonized shriek, and the beaten
beauty flopped forward again onto her tormentor, her body twitching, mouth
slack and making wet smears against Ingrid’s open armpit.
“Mmm..yes,
I guess by now you would need a little salt intake,” Ingrid said as Maria’s
open mouth gasped in her armpit. She gripped Maria’s hair and moved her head up
and down, forcing Maria’s open mouth to swab and lick her armpit.
“There,
little one,” Ingrid cooed sarcastically, “we’ll be all better when we get a
little salt, hmm? Listen to the coach.”
Ingrid
pushed her off, and the petite latina fell to earth like a sack of lead. Her
arms splayed to her side, her face stared with glazed, tear-filled eyes at the
nearly dark sky. Grass stuck to her tangled hair and drool leaked out of her
bruised lips and down her chin. Hiccuped sobs spilled softly out of her throat.
Her legs were straight out and motionless, tethered closely to one another by
the rolled up shorts and panties, which imprisoned her at the knees. She lay
there, blinded with pain, and prayed that her savage and humiliating
ass-whipping was at an end.
Ingrid
stood directly over her, hands on hips. A couple of drops of sweat slid off of
her face and off of her breasts, and splattered on Maria's face.
"Yes,
I can have him. And I WILL have him," she spat at the vanquished wife.
Then she walked to Maria's purse, and took the camera out. She straddled
Maria's chest again, facing her this time, and sat down on her breasts,
crushing them again. She looked down into her captive's brown eyes. Maria
looked up at her, too beaten to speak or move any part of her body.
Ingrid
popped open the back of the camera and yanked the film canister out of it. She
tore the film out of the canister, letting all of it spool out onto
Maria's face and bare chest, until the entire roll was exposed.
Maria’s ragged and pitiful sobs became louder as she watched Ingrid destroy the
evidence of their affair.
With
a ragged groan rising in her lungs, she lifted her neck and tried to claw at
Ingrid's bare tits. The lanky blonde simply slapped her hands away, and then
squeezed her thighs together, clamping them like a vice against sides of the
brunette's breasts. Maria's head flopped back down and she arched slightly,
eyes shut as she fought for air. Ingrid unclenched her thighs and smiled down
at her cruelly. Maria opened her eyes dully, the deep sting of defeat welling
up in her. She grimaced as she felt Ingrid's crotch and thighs pinning her
body to the earth. She couldn't help but think of those same thighs and
crotch harboring her Dan, and he imagined him between her thighs, humping,
penetrating the pussy that was just inches from her face now.
Ingrid
finished letting the film tumble out onto Maria's neck and face.
“Now,
there is nothing left of your laughable little spy session,” Ingrid stated
matter-of-factly, dropping the empty camera on the grass. She took two ends of
the useless film, and brought it under Maria’s neck, and then cinched it around
her throat. Maria arched helplessly, and coughed.
“please…”
she begged Ingrid, “d-don’t k-kill me……”
Ingrid
smiled down at her, holding the film like a tourniquet around the loser’s
tender throat. “As tempting as that is, I won’t.” She traced Maria’s full lips
with her fingernail, mocking foreplay. “I can fuck Dan whenever I want, wherever
I want. Isn’t that true, Mrs. Foster?”
Maria
shut her eyes, and whimpered, but said nothing.
Ingrid
tightened the film around the woman’s throat, and saw her eyes bulge. “Whenever
I want!” she repeated, “Right, Maria?? Say it, bitch!”
Maria
nodded her head frantically, her words slipping out in a tortured wheeze.
“y-yes….yes…you
c-ccann…whenever you wwwant....”
“Tell
me whose pussy Dan wants!” Ingrid hissed down at her, “TELL ME!”
Maria
fought the sobs and the hiccupping as she fought for air, “y—yours….y-your
pussy…”
“Because
I am the better woman, aren’t I, Maria??
Hmm?? SAY IT!!” Ingrid planted more weight on the brunette’s breasts,
and cinched the film tighter.
“y-yess…”
she croaked, nodding as her head swam from lack of oxygen, “you are the b-b-better
w-woman…..”
Ingrid
smiled triumphantly, and let go of the film. Then she lifted up, and inched
forward, positioning her humid directly above Maria’s tear streaked face.
“Kiss
it.”
Maria
looked up into Ingrid’s eyes, begging her silently. She knew better by at this
point than to protest vocally, besides, her mouth was nearly numb from Ingrid’s
repeated slaps.
“Kiss
my pussy. When Dan puts his cock in me later, he’ll have a little kiss from
you. Isn’t that sweet?”
Maria
sobbed, but lifted her head slowly and pressed her lips into the thin strip of
fabric at Ingrid’s crotch. Ingrid grabbed her hair and held her there for
several seconds.
“Kiss
it good, bitch, so I can have your lipstick on my shorts. I’ll keep them
hanging in my closet so I can see that every morning.”
Ingrid
smiled as Maria moaned, her warm breath exhaling into her groin.
“Hmm!”
Ingrid joked. “Maybe I’ll come into your house at night, have Dan, and have you
too! It doesn’t look like you can do anything to stop me.”
With
a cruel chuckle she dropped Maria’s head and looked down at her as she spoke.
“You
can have Dan transfer, and you can move….but I’ll find him..and if necessary, I
will find you. So don’t stand in our way. If you try, I will give you a public beating
next time, somewhere where you least expect me, in front of the whole
neighborhood, or at the mall…anywhere I choose. Do you understand??”
“y-yes….yes…I d-do….” Maria sobbed, her voice sounding like
a scared little girl.
Ingrid
climbed slowly off. She stood over the beaten, naked form of the rival she had
conquered, her own body tingling with victory.
“There,
you see?” Ingrid mocked, “I think you understand now. All you needed was a
little…coaching.
She
laughed gently, stepped over her victim, and picked up her towel to cover her
breasts.
“So,
goodbye, Mrs. Foster,” she sang in mock sweetness. Then, she walked to her car,
looking back once to savor her win.
Maria
lay on the grass in the harshly lit darkness for nearly twenty minutes before
she could move her arms enough to pull her shorts and panties back up. Shivering, beaten, and humiliated, she had
been robbed of both her husband and her dignity. Every move she made hurt as
she pulled her clothes back on her battered body. Each pulsation of pain
reminded her of how quickly the tables had been turned on her, and how brutally
the tall Swedish woman had thrashed her.
She
rubbed her face, thinking of Ingrid going to Dan and making love to him after
beating her to a pulp, and she cried, softly. Finally, she turned over, and
crawled on all fours to pick up her camera and her top. She rose to her knees,
pulled her top back on, and sniffled, hugging herself to try and stop her
ravaged body from shaking. Then she rose, and limped to her car.
THE
END