Housekeeping
by Damon

Christine was pissed. She had taken enough from her stupid-ass boss all week, and she was right at her breaking point. How dare that fat bitch tell her she wasn’t working hard enough! The next thing that went wrong, the next person who rubbed her the wrong way, well, Christine knew she was just going to boil over and lash out and belt somebody. Anger surged through her five-foot-five, fortysomething form, ensconced in a tight yellow-and-white striped halter top, tighter cutoff blue shorts, and strapless sandals. Her long curly blonde hair bounced along her smooth tan shoulders and behind her as she made her appointed rounds through the two-story, off-campus house she was in charge of cleaning.

Dressed in a form-fitting light red dress and also wearing sandals, Dawn was shuffling through the white stack of papers on her desk, ready to toss half of those well-worn, useless sheets out, when she saw that her wastebasket was still full. She rolled her beautiful blue eyes to the heavens and exhaled audibly, incredulous that the basket had been that way for almost three days now. What the hell was that cleaning woman doing this summer - taking the whole month off?

It was then that Christine came around the corner with a large garbage bag dragging behind her as she made her way towards Dawn’s wastebasket. Ignoring the other woman, the still-fuming Christine bent down to scoop up the basket and begin emptying its contents into the large clear plastic bag.

“Sure took your time in getting to it,” chided Dawn, swiveling slightly in her seat to stare at the older woman. Dawn was a pretty, short-haired blonde with alabaster skin, about five-six and 120 pounds, in her early thirties. Long of leg and ample of both breast and ass, she was a knockout who worked as a women’s soccer coach and physical education instructor at State College. She didn’t really know Christine, didn’t really care to, and was just blowing off some of her own steam with her catty comment. It had been a long week for her, too - two potential recruits had backed out of their verbal commitments this week alone, and it looked to be an even longer season when school started in the fall, just a month or so away.

It was just meant to be a throwaway comment, anyway, just something Dawn had to get off her full chest, nothing more, certainly nothing to get angry over.

Not to Christine, though. The older blonde could feel her blood boiling, angry as she was and practically spoiling for a fight.

“What did you say?” she queried, lowering the wastebasket with one hand while maintaining her grip on the plastic bag with the other.

“I said you sure took your time in emptying this thing out,” replied Dawn, more than a little testily, turning away from the cleaning woman after an icy glare. She was going to be damned if a goddamned cleaning woman was going to make her feel low. Dawn then turned her attention back to her paper stack ...

... and then felt herself caught under a white carbon cascade as Christine emptied the remaining contents of the wastebasket on top of the soccer coach. Luckily for Dawn it was nothing but copy paper, but it pissed her off all the same. She spun to her right in her chair and glared pure venom at Christine before standing up and shoving Christine by the shoulders.

‘What the f...” mouthed Dawn before she felt the stinging smack of a slap across her cheek, as Christine cracked a backhand across Dawn’s pretty face.

“Fuck you, sweetheart!” snapped Christine, her own ample chest heaving with anticipation as she hesitated between letting the matter drop - or attacking once more and committing to a real fight, depending upon Dawn’s response.

Dawn brushed her face gingerly with her fingertips, anger welling up inside her despite the pain, before lashing out with a slap of her own that reddened Christine’s cheek and reverberated across the adjoining entrance foyer and living room of the house.

“No, fuck you, bitch!” shot back Dawn, her own adrenaline surging - before she felt the room spinning about her, her throat and lungs burning for oxygen as Christine’s hands snaked out to fasten about the younger blonde’s slim neck and squeeze it hard.

Dawn closed her eyes in agony and gasped out loud in breathless anguish as she suffered in her attacker’s grasp. The coach gripped Christine’s slim wrists and tried to pry the cleaning woman’s choking hands from her throat, but the older woman hung on, thumbs pressing hard into her victim’s windpipe as she sought to squeeze the very life from the other blonde - and then toss her out with the rest of the trash, a thought which made Christine grin with more than a touch of wicked glee ...

TBC

The pressure increased about Dawn’ s throat, to the point where she could feel the very life draining from her voluptuous form, until she realized her method of escape was futile - and launched a punch that smashed hard into Christine’s nose and sent her reeling backwards into a nearby desk, back crashing painfully into the wooden edge, long after her hands had detached from Dawn’s throat so that the younger blonde could breathe again. Dawn coughed and rubbed her raw throat with one hand, while Christine grimaced and massaged her sore spine where it had contacted the desk. The two women glared at each other, steeling themselves to renew the struggle they both knew would be fought to the finish.

“Slut!” croaked Dawn though her hoarse throat, still massaging her throat.

“Whore!” spat back Christine, now rubbing her back with just one hand. “I’ll help you rub that neck ...”

“Save your own breath!” growled Dawn as she kicked off her sandals and bent low, hands outstretched in front of her. Christine responded by slipping off her own sandals and also crouching down with her hands extended forward. Her pink nails were short but sharp, while Dawn kept her clear nails short and sanded. They glared at each other, pawed and feinted in the air between them, before rushing towards one another and colliding heavily in a crush of feminine flesh. Greedy hands forced their way about shoulder straps and pulled hard, breaking seams and fraying string as they ripped one another’s tops loose, naked breasts bouncing loose as it was revealed that neither blonde beauty wore a bra. Tattered shreds of Dawn’s once-pretty dress hung loosely about her skirted waist, while Christine’s two-toned top lay in various pieces about the gray carpeted floor of the small parlor.

They both snarled and then buried their hands in one another’s hair, fingers curling into silky locks before pulling like mad, eliciting bloodcurdling shrieks from both beauties as they tried to rip each other’s blonde locks out by their dark roots. Both women howled in pain, neither assuming any kind of advantage in this escalating one-on-one fight, before they both resorted to slaps once more, bony flesh cracking against reddening flesh over and over again, causing more screams and groans, until both babes saw that they couldn’t win the fight, not this way.

Staring down, their eyes focused upon one another’s firm, naked breasts - Christine’s soft mounds tanned golden from her summer nude sunbathing sessions, Dawn’s naturally creamy and white - before fastening their grasping, clawing hands upon one another’s bouncing bosoms and squeezing mercilessly. Fingers sank into soft, yielding flesh, while fingertips pinched thick, fleshy, pointed nipples and nails scratched across unbroken skin without remorse as both battlers wailed in greater agony, both females suffering immensely but neither woman willing to break off from mauling the other one, not until Christine fired a right hook off of Dawn’s small chin and sent the younger woman tumbling backwards to collapse upon her padded rear cheeks.

Dazed by the blow and the subsequent tumble, Dawn was helpless as Christine reached down and stripped the remnants of her foe’s dress and panties down the soccer coach’s lean, tapered legs to leave her fully naked for the fight. Tossing away the ruined garments, Christine prepared to dive upon her opponent and destroy her, but she only caught the soles of Dawn’s bare feet pounding into her chest before she felt herself being thrust away hard to smash back first again into the far wall with an open-mouthed groan.

Forcing herself up to her knees, Dawn watched as Christine shook off her new pain and raised her own shapely legs one at a time to step out of her own shorts and panties to reveal herself in her own fully nude splendor. Sucking in a great lungful of breath, Christine quickly strode over to where Dawn still rested on her knees, only to be caught unawares as the not-yet-done Dawn suddenly lunged forward to tackle Christine about the thighs and knees. Christine swayed in her opponent’s grasp, thrashing about to keep herself from falling, before pitching forward to brace her hands upon Dawn’s shoulders before raining down upon the younger woman’s back and head with her balled-up fists. Dawn held on with both arms, one hand grasping the wrist of the other as she tried to topple her foe, even lifting her slightly up off he floor while she felt the full force of Christine’s repeated blows hammering down upon her weary body.

Christine managed to jam an arm between her own legs and Dawn’s arms and almost wrench of Dawn’s grip, but still the coach clung to the cleaning woman, trying to knock her down and finish her off, until Christine’s right knee cracked against Dawn’s small chin and sent her sprawling back, arms unwrapping from about Christine’s gams. In the same motion, Christine dropped down upon Dawn, knees slamming hard into Dawn’s gut and knocking the breath from her shapely body. It was just what Christine wanted, as she then straddled Dawn’s trim, athletic waist and finally closed her hands once more about her foe’s throat in a crushing grip, thumbs stabbing down harder than before as her fingers anchored into the back of Dawn’s neck for unyielding leverage.

Christine shook Dawn up and down, reveling in her victim’s gasping and gurgling even as Dawn ineffectually clutched Christine’s wrists once more. Christine hissed angrily, teeth clenched and eyes blazing, as she began to pound Dawn’s back and head against the thinly-carpeted floor, harder and harder, loud thumps echoing about the room and house as Dawn’s tongue began to loll out of her dry mouth before her slender arms dropped uselessly to her sides and Christine rendered her unconscious with one last blow to the head, moments before she would have choked the very life out of her younger opponent.

Christine didn’t notice, held on with both hands, squeezing as hard as ever until she finally noticed Dawn was no longer resisting - and barely breathing, if that. Hurriedly she broke off her vicious attack and scuttled backwards like an escaping crab, the older blonde fearful she had ended her newfound enemy’s life with her bare hands - before breathing a huge sigh of relief as she saw that Dawn really was breathing, not lying lifeless but merely out cold. Christine exhaled again and then lay back on the floor, her shapely tanned body sheened with sweat as she braced her hands behind her head, bent her knees upwards and stared up almost tranquilly at the speckled white ceiling ... and began to smile.

Not a bad week after all, she thought.

END