Two Girls and a Grudge

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*Special thanks to Kayla for editing this for me.*

Her throat was burning and she found it hard to breathe. Her knees were aching from supporting her entire weight for too long on the cold tile floor. These pains were tolerable, minor even, compared to the humiliation that she had just experienced and even more painful still was knowing that she was about to endure an ever greater embarrassment. The worst pain of all though, the thing that she was truly judging herself for was the wetness that had seeped from her labia which had caused the fabric of her thong to cling to her cunt lips like they had been glued on. No matter how much she tried to deny in her mind that she didn’t like it, her pussy could not tell a lie…

Strangely enough this had all began in Chad’s bedroom in the Delta Kappa Epsilon fraternity (?KE) house. Cindy had managed to string him along now for a year and a half. Week in and week out they would make out, inevitably he would attempt to slide his hand under her waist band of her panties only to be blocked. After the first few months of this, during their freshman year, he switched up his strategy and accused her of being a tease and threatening to seek gratification elsewhere. He knew not the mistake in judgment he had made until it was too late. She erupted in tearful, blubbering, semi-intelligible half sentences of “you don’t love me”, “I’m just a piece of meat to you” or “mom told me that there were guys like you”.

In her 19 years of life Cindy Lawson had honed the craft of crying as means of manipulating men into both and art and a science. Her mother had gone to school majoring in landing a man and her father, majoring in investment banking. They were married when they were juniors in college. A handful of years later her pregnancy with Cindy wasn’t an easy one, especially for a prissy like Cindy’s mom. After the delivery her mother had decided that instead of the five children she had wanted before she was pregnant, one would suffice. Like many upper class, stay-at-home mothers who have nothing asked of them by society, she started abusing prescription drugs. This combined with her father’s guilt about his work load not to mention his secret affairs was where the crying and pouting translated into practically blank checks and unquestioned compliance to Cindy getting what she wanted.

And so it went, Cindy cried and Chad recanted. About a year ago Cindy agreed that she would jerk him off while he played with her tits. She hated the sight of penises, she knew that she would need one to support her eventually and that it was sort of necessary in order to have children, which she guessed she might want to have, but they were just… gross, utilitarian and vulgar looking. She could never figure out how men could walk with those things hanging there, didn’t they get in the way? But being the good little girlfriend that she believed herself to be she soldiered through it and had tweaked her technique to the point that it didn’t take to long before she made the magic happen. Sometimes, she would even let him finish on her breasts. She truly felt that he had to have been completely satisfied.

So here she was finishing Chad off with the final few hard gripped strokes, as he clumsily fondled her firm B-cups. Tonight she had something to do so he finished into a dirty shirt from the laundry hamper. It took a minute to get her clothing back into place and a quick kiss later and she closed his bedroom door behind her. She went down the stairs and exhaled in relief that none of the frat brothers were hanging around, rarely did they say anything but they often gave her looks that she could do with out.

The Campus was cold but not yet freezing. She passed by all of the buildings making her way to the opposite end from the?KE house to the Fitness Center. She made her way into the locker room and changed into her workout clothes.

First she put on a size too small t-shirt that showed off there mid-rift which also allowed one to see her abs when she flexed them. The best part of the shirt though was that they held her 34B’s perfectly displaying their perkiness without the help of a sports bra and inevitably allowed her inch-long nipples, either by the cold or rubbing against the fabric during exercise, to stand out like little Hershey’s Kisses.

For her lower body, ah spandex, the ultimate judge, jury and executioner of women’s bodies and self esteem. If you have a perfect body it shows it off and if you have an ounce of fat it points it out; spandex showed Cindy off. Pulling them up was a task, she had intentionally bought them one size too small so that they would really highlight her butt. It was blue ribbon winner as far as backsides go, nice and round without looking fat, wide enough to be noticed with out queering her petite and compact body type. One of the black girls in her sorority had once told her that she had a little white J-lo booty.

She stood admiring herself in the full length mirror. Both sides of her family had come from the North European area Germany, Denmark, Holland, Belgium and the entire compliment of Scandinavian countries. Betturkey She had long, soft, blonde hair that she often, including this night, braided in the front to the sides of her face in front of her ears and let the rest of it hang straight. She had big blue eyes that came to a slight Scandinavian point at the sides. She had thick pouting lips that were just full enough to make her that much more attractive and aided most of the guys that knew her in imagining them wrapped tightly around their manhood with those big, blue eyes staring up into their own, without making her look like she was a Pamela Anderson, plastic surgery gone array. She was short at 5’2″ but her slightly thick and toned frame worked better for her at this height than it would if she were a few inches taller. To sum it up at 5’2″, 112 pounds with her blonde hair and blues eyes she looked, well, similarly to when one saw Secretariat they knew he had been the result of generations of controlled intentional breeding to create creature that existed for one single thing: Racing, Cindy was designed for fucking… But she never had, she loved her body the way that it was, she loved turning heads and getting compliments. She just never saw a guy, no matter how cute he was, and thought “I want him”.

As she stood there pondering this while staring into the mirror, behind her appeared Becky Fisher’s face. Through the reflection of the mirror the two made eye contact for the briefest moment. But with in that moment the Becky was able to communicate, as she did every time the two of them saw one another, the distain that Becky had for Cindy.

When the moment had passed and Becky had left the locker room Cindy pouted to herself. She, more so than most people, had a need to be liked by others. In truth she would probably be upset that someone didn’t like her even if she knew that she had crossed them in some way, but she hadn’t done anything to Becky. When they had classes together she always tried to smile at her, say hello, from time to time she even tried to make some small talk with her. Every time she spoke, waved, looked at or otherwise acknowledged Becky’s existence she was given the same look of distain.

She caught sight of the wall clock which snapped her out of it, she grabbed the sweatshirt that she always took with her to aerobics and speed walked out of the locker room. She made her way to the gym designated for aerobics at this time making it to her spot with all the equipment that she needed just before the first beat of the brisk-tempo music blasted from the speakers. The thoughts of Becky quickly left her mind as she began going through the routine

She was here to stay in tip-top shape for dance line. She didn’t need to be on the dance team, she wasn’t given a scholarship of any sort for doing so. Indeed her father has paid every penny of her education, but she liked doing it, she loved the attention, the sisterhood she felt with most of the other girls in the squad and she loved the glances that she would get from some of the women in the crowd knowing that their boyfriend standing right next to them was ravaging Cindy with his eyes. It was always unspoken but the girlfriends knew what the boyfriends were thinking about, which drove them crazy. What really drove those women crazy was that Cindy knew how they felt and loved the envy.

She had it down pretty well by now and didn’t need to keep her eyes glued on Brandi, the aerobics instructor. As she did her paced step ups on the Nike step her gaze drifted around the room. There was a wide variety women represented in this room. Some were very fit like her, most were with in the margins of average fitness and than there were a few fatties struggling to keep up with the rest if the herd… maybe not the most appropriate choice of words. A large percentage were other college girls, many were teachers or local housewives ranging from their twenties to mid fifties and one or two were probably still in high school. Mostly the group was comprised of white women, a few likely Jewish, a few black and Hispanic and an Asian girl sprinkled here and there.

Her gaze moved from girl to girl comparing each to herself. Most of the others couldn’t quite compete with Cindy, some might have had a single physical trait that was better than hers but not a one of them as a total package was comparable to her. It didn’t matter though with each girl she saw something cute, pretty or sexy about her. From some of the older women whose breasts, while sagging a little, were only enough to advertise their mass to the fatties whose curves that whatever else they might say to others, representing womanhood.

She loved the idea that her life, at least her social life was a comprised of sisterhoods. Her sorority sisters, the dance line girls, the girls she had lunch with on Tuesdays and Thursdays after her Poly-Sci class and here her aerobics sisterhood. This sisterhood spanned the widest rage of age and race which gave her a sense of continuity, the need to be attractive, to feel good about one’s body was a bridge which spanned between the races and generations Betturkey Giriş in this room for one hour, three times a week.

By now the burn was starting to set in. Watching the other women in the room, all but the fittest were starting to breath excessively, starting to cheat on their technique, their eyes began to look around the room for validation from the others that they aren’t the only one feeling the strain. This was Cindy’s time to step it up a notch, to gain admiration and envy of the other women that she craved and thrived on. Her gaze went forward, her expression went nearly blank, only the slightest hint of a smirk, just enough to communicate to any of the other girls who might have questioned that she knew she was pinnacle performer of the group.

Brandi, in the front of the room, was constantly reminding the girls to “push it”, “it is almost over”, “love the burn ladies” and of course “don’t forget to breathe”. Cindy watched only Brandi’s body as she executed each aspect of the routine with flawless precision. Brandi was right about 30 years old, dark brown hair with highlights. Her hips betrayed the fact that she had had children before but they weren’t so wide that she looked like the babies would come shooting out like a waterslide at the pool. She was quite different from Cindy and quite similar at the same time. Taller and less muscular but leaner as well and had larger breasts… though not as perky as Cindy’s.

The music stopped and moans of rejoice echoed through the gym as Brandi congratulated them all on their effort before turning her head set off. The group then began to huddle around the water coolers and made small talk most of the girls were on first name basis with each other. Many made a point to compliment Cindy on how fit or pretty she was casing her to smile and thank them sheepishly then tell them how she can see the work really starting to pay off for them or some similar reply.

Brandi eventually made her way to Cindy. “Hey, you really pushed yourself tonight.” Cindy smiled her biggest smile for Brandi “Well, when I see you push yourself so hard up there for all of us, I… I feel like I can’t let you down.” They talked for another minute or so, then as has become the custom for the two women before ending the evening, they hugged. Brandi being the taller woman bent to hug Cindy and as always Cindy felt the sets of nipples press into each other. Those hugs always seemed, to Cindy, to both last a life time and pass to quickly all at the same time.

Brandi announced to the group that it was time to hit the showers and at that moment, Cindy’s endorphins must have kicked in as a splash of euphoria washed over her. She was at the back of the line headed out the door, when, in the mirrors that stretch from the floor to ceiling, and wall to wall within the room, she noticed that she was sweating more in her crotch again than she was anywhere else. This has been a reoccurring problem for her and the reason that she always brought her sweatshirt to class with her. She tied it in a knot around her waist in such a way the sleeves fell in front of her crotch covering where the sweat had dampened her spandex outlining her labia in the too-tight leggings.

As the group turned into the main hallway Cindy started thinking to herself that she should really get some weights in before she called it a night, to take advantage of the adrenalin rush. She felt an odd sense of disappointment as she split from the main group to head towards the weight room and they towards the showers. “Must be the endorphins wearing off” she thought aloud as decided to hurry to and try and capitalize on them while they were still there.

She burst through the doors of the weight room and wouldn’t you know it, there using the bench press machine was… Becky Fisher. Cindy’s eyes went wide and she stopped in her tracks when she saw Becky. Several seconds passed before Cindy sputtered out “H…ah. Hey-ah hey Becky”. Becky’s gaze moved from Cindy to a distant spot on the wall behind her. Dejectedly, Cindy went to the leg curl/extension equipment and began to work out. She kept her head down or to the sides at all times so as to avoid making eye contact with Becky and run the risk of being snubbed by her again. Eventually she closed her eyes and did her workout the whole time thinking about Becky.

Becky was volleyball player, a full ride scholarship; this was her senior year which meant she was now half way through. She was tall, taller than most men at few inches past six foot. She was also fit but in a different way than Cindy. She had thick, long, powerful legs that ended with a similarly muscular bottom. Her stomach was pretty flat with the hint of a pooch that suggested that she would naturally have a bit of a belly if not for the continuous works outs and that she probably tended to retain weight if she eat healthy or not. Her breasts were C-cups but would almost certainly be D or DD minus her workout’s effects on them. Her arms like her legs contained much more muscle mass than Cindy’s did and while they weren’t flabby, they weren’t toned like Cindy’s either. She had fairly big brown eyes and her dark brown wavy hair came to about her shoulders and looked like it would frizz and probably knot easily. Her face was pretty enough, Cindy thought, nothing remarkable to make her stand out from a crowd. If she would just take whatever it is stuck in her ass out she would probably be very pretty.

Meanwhile Becky sat in the Bench Press machine and worked spiritedly on her upper body strength. The entire time she was thinking about how much she hated Cindy. Becky was from working class parents. She could even remember when, during her earliest years, they had lived in a trailer home. Her first brush with sex was with a relative and he was 15 years her senior and she hadn’t menstruated for the first time yet. In high school she had a lot of friends that were guys, but few boyfriends, she usually went to dances with guys that didn’t have a girlfriend but didn’t want to go alone. It wasn’t that she was unattractive; it was that she was an Amazon woman.

She had lost her virginity (she didn’t count the molestation as she hadn’t done anything of her own free will) one night when one of her friends, drunk as a sailor, had failed to close the deal with his girlfriend, a cheerleader (of course) and had drunk dialed her to “talk”. When he arrived the talking lasted all of the time it took the drunken horn-dog to pull his raging hard on out of his pants. This was followed by five of the most uncomfortable, unloving and passionless minutes in the history of sex as he thrust away inside of her. After he finished he zipped up and without even a kiss, stumbled home.

The next time she saw him was two days later at school, she was almost floating when she walked up to him giggling and happy as she had ever been only to be completely deflated by the talk jumbled and awkward full of phrases like “my girlfriend”, “was just drunk”, and “Still buddies…right?” The deflation didn’t end with that, because when it got out the way these things always find a way to get out, the official story around the school was that she had seduced him. She gained a reputation with the guys as a fall back plan and with the girls as “the bitch that will sleep with guys even though she knows they have a girlfriend.” And this is what became of her sex life in high school.

She went out of state to go to college and luckily no one from her high school had gone to the same university. It was here that she had first felt the touch of another woman. Becky had always sort of known that she was somewhat attracted to women but had always found some way to justify it to herself as something else. She would say, that the reason she got excited looking at all the Cindy Lawsons of the world is due to her desire to look like them, to be the cute girl etc. but the first time that she placed her tongue into another woman she was hooked, but then, for the first time in her sexual existence, the person she had serviced, returned the favor. As a freshman she had a committed relationship with the woman that was her first lesbian encounter, she was a senior at the time. It wasn’t advertised broadly and was really only known to the volleyball girls, the softball girls and a few of the basketball girls. Not all of the girls in these sports were lesbians but many were and almost all had tried it at least once and as such the environment existed in which one could be known to be with one girl and still have it kept a secret from outsiders.

As much as she loved everything about being with women she still, if only because it is the way she was brought up to believe she should, sought sex from men. Like in high school it was drunken calls in the middle of the night from guys that didn’t land the girl they were after. College was a lot different than high school in other ways, for one thing, college guys were smarter they, told few people and only those that they trusted about the plan-B girl. This was good for two reasons, all of the girls on campus didn’t hate Becky for letting their boyfriends fuck her and two, the girls that she was with sexually didn’t hear about it either. The down side is that pornography was much more available to college guys and if anyone will do… well, whatever perverted activity that they ran across last time they were trolling the porn sites, it would be the plan-B girl. As a result Becky had had more anal sex with men over the last four years than most women who do it professionally.

Why did Becky hate Cindy, because no one has given her more business in any year-and-a-half stretch than she has. About the time that Cindy and Chad had their hand job agreement, one of the older frat guys told him about this girl named Becky who “loves to fuck, in fact this bitch will even do anal, no questions asked.” And so several nights a week for nearly 18 months Becky as gotten a call followed by a knock on the door from an all horned-up Chad. The fact that he has usually already cum once that night from a hand job usually means that Becky has to work her ass of, literally, to get him off. It is bad enough that Cindy was perfect looking, but she could have had Chad all to herself, such a cute guy that but not for the promise of dirty unspoken about sexual acts wouldn’t know Becky was even alive and she doesn’t even really want him… Fucking bitch.

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