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The Snow Ball Fights

By Wolfboy

Christmas Eve brings cheer and plenty of fights at the annual Snow Ball.

The annual Snow Ball was the traditional Christmas Eve event in town, the place everyone wanted to be seen. And for once, the evening of the Snow Ball was marked by genuine snow fall. That real snow had fallen on top of the fake snow sprayed around the outside of the Grand Hotel in town, to leave a carpet of pristine soft powder snow, only marked by the footprints of those lucky enough to have tickets for the ball as they made their way inside the hotel.

The dress code for the ball was simple. The men wore black tie, the ladies wore Christmas themed dresses. Bindi was there with Gita, both wearing green Mrs Claus themed dressed trimmed with a faux white fur. Andrea was there, wearing an all white version of the same style dress that had just a hint of glitter woven through it’s fabric. Allie was there, wearing her version in blue and white. Emma and I sat at a table and I thought how she looked to be a vision in her green and white version of the dress. Claire was there, her dress in black, possibly matching her mood at how her recent catfights had gone. And finally, there was Jemma and Beth, both preferring the traditional red and white Mrs Claus style dresses, though a closer inspection would show that Jemma’s choice was a one piece hooded jump suit, teamed with a pair of over the knee boots.

Even as we waited for the first course of the sumptuous three course menu to be served, I quickly reached the conclusion that there was no possible way that a room full of 8 such fighting women could see the evening pass without confrontation. In fact, the menu for the day would end up reading something like this.

Entrée

Beth and Gita have ‘a discussion’

Beth and Jemma had elected to circulate around the room a little before the first course was served, and they inevitably found themselves coming across Bindi and Gita. ‘Ladies….happy Christmas’ Jemma had smiled at them both, not wanting to get into anything with the two Indian girls at the very outset of the evening.

‘Happy Christmas’ Bindi had been able to manage with a smile on her face, able to bury her rivalry with Jemma and Beth easily enough for one evening at least.

‘Happy Christmas’ Gita had allowed, though there was no smile from her. She stared at Beth and told her flatly ‘you’re still a cheating bitch’. Evidently Gita had no Christmas spirit in mind as she made that statement, still smarting from her recent defeat to Beth.

‘Oh, I’m sorry’ Beth smirked. ‘You think I need to cheat to beat you?’ she laughed. ‘Really?’

‘I’ll beat you up right now blondie, don’t tempt me’ Gita said.

‘Is that a fact?’ Beth shot back, her ire rising just a little. ‘If you want to back it up, I know somewhere we could go. Nice and quiet. We won’t get interrupted’ she promised.

‘Lead the way, bitch’ Gita said, no hesitation on her part it seemed.

‘I’ll be back in a moment’ Beth said to Jemma, pecking her girlfriend on the cheek as she took Gita by the hand to lead her away. Beth had worked in the hotel as a maid for a short time while she was at university, so she knew her way around, and also some of the staff. It was easy enough for her to secure a key card for an empty room for her ‘discussion’ with Gita. Bindi and Jemma had both stood watching the back of their respective partners for the evening as they left the main room. Beth had wisely asked for a room close to the main ball room, but not too close, so as to avoid too much casual footfall past the room hearing the fight in progress.

No sooner had they gone through the door into the room, and Beth had slipped the key card in to the slot to switch the electric on, than she was to the point. ‘How do you want to do this then bitch?’ she asked Gita.

Now it was evident that Gita had considered the prospect of this fight for some while, knowing that both she and Beth would be at the ball. ‘Well, we don’t want to ruin our evening’s too much now do we...so why don’t we take our dresses off, and fight until one has ripped the thong off the loser?’ she asked Beth. Then she cheekily smirked ‘that is if you’re actually wearing any underwear you little slut?’

‘You’re on’ Beth replied flatly, taking off her red dress almost immediately as Gita did the same with her green dress. Both dresses were hung in the wardrobe in the room for the moment as the two women squared up to each other to fight now. Gita wore a leopard print thong with a black satin bra, while Beth had on all red, matching her dress. Each was in a towering pair of black heels, of which there was no thought of removing them. Then Beth slapped Gita’s face and the fight was on, at pace, an urgency about both young women as they looked to get straight to it. Gita slapped back, both grabbed hair, and for the first time, their bodies felt the stinging impact of palm on bare skin. Neither complained about it just for now. They were lost in the moment, how ever brief it may end up being. Gita squeezed Beth’s right breast for a moment, through the fabric of Beth’s red lace bra. Beth grimaced, noting that Gita seemed to be a little more confident than before, but then she clamped her hand over the breast of the Indian girl as well, mauling her with some effect.

Gita moaned. Not a loud moan of pain, but nevertheless, the kind of moan that gave Beth the confidence that she was finding her mark. Then there was a surprise for Beth as Gita switched her tactic, balled her fist up, and drove it into her belly. Beth gasped, winded, suddenly finding herself fighting on the back foot as Gita corralled her towards the bed, so that she could double her over it by her hair. ‘Your slutty panties are history, bitch!’ she confidently announced, already wrenching Beth’s thong into a deep wedgie that drew a louder cry of pain from Beth. Pure chance had seen Beth elect to put on a satin and lace thong, and despite the sound of some ripping from her choice of underwear, the satin was sturdy enough to just stand up to Gita’s attack. Then Beth flicked her heel back and caught Gita between the legs, and the finely laid plan of the Indian girl unravelled quickly as she clutched for her womanhood.

Beth turned, didn’t bother to unwedige herself and simply lifted Gita so that she could deliver an inverted body slam on to the top of the bed. Then she climbed on to the bed, quickly getting on top of Gita as she straddled her back, facing towards Gita’s feet. In an instant, she wrenched Gita’s leopard print thong into a wedgie every bit as deep as the one the Indian girl had applied to her only moments earlier. The key difference was the flaw in Gita’s plan. After all it was she who had set the rules for the match, but she had worn a lace thong. A flimsy one at that it appeared as the room was quickly filled with the sound of ripping fabric and a protesting Indian woman. ‘These are a great choice!’ Beth laughed at Gita’s predicament as she enjoyed the tearing sound.

‘You cheater!’ Gita complained loudly, ‘get off of me!’

‘How exactly am I cheating you dumb tart?’ Beth laughed, then with a flourish she ripped the leopard print thong from Gita’s body, finishing the move and short fight with a stinging smack to Gita’s butt. A smack that perhaps stung the pride of the Indian girl more than it stung her ass, but it was she who was going to be without her panties for the rest of the evening. Something that was very evident given they had totally ripped in Beth’s quick wedgie leading the blonde to throw them into the bin in the room. ‘Merry Christmas Gita!’ she laughed, then told her, ‘now get up, put your dress back on, and we’ll go back into the main room. And try not to flash your naked ass for the rest of the evening you little slapper!’

‘I’ll get you for this blondie!’ Gita sniped, but she did as she had been told, so that the two women walked back into the main ballroom only a few minutes after they had left, finding Jemma and Bindi talking to each other relatively amiably.

‘Are you two done already?’ Jemma asked them both.

‘We certainly are, aren’t we Gita?’ Beth smiled, the look on her face telling Beth everything she needed to know.

‘Honestly Gita….’ Bindi sighed, as Beth and Jemma locked hands, and headed off to find their seats for the ball, Beth still carrying the key-card to the spare room, tucked inside her little clutch bag.

The Starter

Allie and Andrea’s secret tryst

Beth and Jemma returned to their table, a couple of tables across from us, just as the starters were served, leaving Bindi and Gita deep in discussion about how things had gone in the room Beth had been able to secure for the evening. There was little time for small talk between the two of them though after they had eaten their food as they were joined at their table for a moment by Allie and Andrea, resplendent in blue and glittering white respectively.

‘How are you guys doing? Enjoying the ball?’ Jemma asked them both as she and Beth stood to chat with them.

‘Ummm, yeah, it seems pretty cool’ Allie told them.

Andrea smiled and said ‘they even got proper snow to make me feel at home!’, drawing a laugh from the group.

‘Do you guys know anywhere a little more private that we could go in the hotel?’ Allie asked, lowering her voice a little. ‘We have something we want to….talk about’ she explained, not explaining at all what they wanted privacy for.

‘We absolutely do’ Beth said, fishing the hotel key card out of her bag to hand over. ‘It’s room 112. Go out of the main door, turn right and it’s just at the end of that little corridor. But, you’re amongst friends here, you’re clearly not going to talk. Do tell…’ she said as she gave Allie the key-card.

‘Well, Allie thinks she can make me cum just by tribbing me in less than five minutes. And I say she can’t’ Andrea shrugged. ‘We need to find out. No point us speculating on the matter’ she explained, quite matter of fact about it.

‘Oh! Sounds fun’ Jemma smiled. ‘You guys enjoy yourselves!’ she told them, before Beth watched the duo leave the main ballroom of the hotel hand in hand. Apparently they were getting on very well it seemed as they headed for the room.

‘You know it won’t work’ Andrea confidently told Allie. ‘I’m a woman who can control my emotions’ she told the Scottish redhead as they walked down that short corridor.

‘We’ll see’ Allie smiled. ‘I’ve been working on it because I want to be able to surprise an opponent with it in a match. And now, you’re going to be my first victim Andrea!’ she declared.

‘Mmmmm…..I mean, it sounds like fun, but it won’t work’ Andrea smiled as she showed the key-card to the electronic locking device to open the room. It was in darkness but she slid the key card into the slot to bring the electrics to life. Both women noted that the bed was already a little disturbed as they took in the room quickly, and then they were all business. Dresses were removed and hung neatly in the wardrobe. Two thongs were removed and laid on the bedside tables, ready for Andrea’s neatly waxed pussy to duel with Allie’s adorned with a thin landing strip of red hair. Shoes were kicked off, leaving in place two bras, white for Andrea and black for Allie, and two pairs of nude hold up stockings before Allie walked to the door and checked that it was locked. It was, and she noted a torn leopard print thong in the rubbish bin in the room as she made her way back towards the bed. She’d remember to ask Beth about that later on.

‘On the bed?’ Andrea asked Allie who nodded to say yes.

Both women climbed on the bed and positioned themselves pussy to pussy, their legs intertwined lightly. ‘The rules are simple’ Allie told Andrea now. ‘We trib each other without trying to pull away for a maximum of five minutes. Nothing else. Our hands can’t touch each other. Don’t worry though Andrea, when you’re so turned on you can’t take it any more, you are allowed to touch yourself sweetie’ she laughed.

‘Oh, you’re a funny one’ Andrea giggled. ‘It’ll be you playing with those big tits and moaning my name though. This is so going to backfire on you!’ she informed the Scottish woman. Without any further talk, Andrea simply started to grind her pussy against Allie’s, taking the initiative from the start.

‘You sneaky….ooohhhhh…...bitch’ Allie said, although she was smiling, finding the start of the contest to her liking as she got in to her stride so to speak, matching Andrea’s rhythm with her own hips as she started to work them before she went beyond the tempo Andrea had set and shifted her position so that she was very slightly on top of Andrea. ‘You like it don’t you Andrea?’ she teased.

‘No’ Andrea stated flatly, gasping as she felt Allie’s shift in position just starting to help the Scotsgirl to take an increased impact on her. ‘I fucking love it Allie’ she corrected, as she once again increased the tempo, shifting herself to prop her body up on a hand on the bed so that she might counter Allie’s better position. And was that a tell tale sign already that she was getting to Allie as the redhead just brushed her own hand across her D cup breasts she wondered. ‘But I can see I’m too much for you already!’ the blonde Swede confidently taunted Allie on seeing that.

‘I’m just getting started’ Allie countered, twisting her body slightly to change her angle of attack. It was rewarded by a loud gasp from Andrea, showing that it was a pretty effective change of tack for her. Andrea stopped working her hips for a moment, only a minute into the match; was she fading already in this purely sexual contest. ‘You should be used to this Andrea’ Allie teased her now. ‘You’re always fighting nude, yet you can’t take it!’

‘Well you’re usually a prude Allie’ Andrea smiled at the woman opposite her on the bed. She’d fought Allie once, and met her a few times. She considered the redhead a friend, but right now she needed to distract her with some sort of taunting just to try and break the impact. ‘You should fight naked more often, like a real woooooman’ she said, unable just to hide the first inkling of pressure building in her from the grinding attacks of the Scotsgirl now, the last word spliced with her first really audible groan of pleasure, but she fought back, shifting her position to cede the top to Allie, backing her strong core to allow her to grind against Allie just as well from beneath her. Her hips worked furiously for a moment now, desperately trying to bring her back into this sexual race. That status quo continued now for a short while, each woman working from their respective position and tellingly, both letting forth moans and groans of pleasure as they did so now. It seemed that both were as effective as the other.

‘You’d like it if I did fight naked’ Allie told Andrea now, belatedly answering the Swede’s taunt even as she marvelled at the way Andrea’s big breasts bounced while the rest of her perfectly toned body barely showed a ripple. Allie had considered herself to be totally straight, but she admitted to herself that given time, Andrea could bring out an entirely different side to her. ‘But’ she continued, enjoying the slightly distant look in Andrea’s eyes as the Swede fought against a wave of pleasure building within her, ‘I’m a lady….you have to earn getting a lady naked. I’m not sure what that makes you though’ she laughed.

The battle, for that was maybe what it was despite the potentially pleasurable outcome for one or both, continued there on the bed. Allie worked her hips, showing a side to her that hadn’t been seen before in any of her catfights. This was a confident woman, willing to use sex to her advantage. Andrea moaned again, feeling the pressure and the pleasure, both forced on to her by the Scottish redhead. She gasped, just about able to control the wave of pleasure that came on to her quickly now, and she thought to herself if it was true….was Allie really going to be able to make her cum this way inside five minutes, just as she had confidently stated? She knew she couldn’t let it happen, and she forced herself in to a change of position again, making sure that she was at least meeting Allie on even terms again. Then she worked her own hips, rolling them furiously, upping the tempo as both women now started to groan almost in unison. Each was out of their element as wrestlers and fighters, yet at the same time, they were totally in the zone as they went to work on each other.

‘Ooohhh….you…’ Allie moaned.

‘Mmmmmm…...I…..’ Andrea whined in return.

The action reached a furious climax, sudden and devastating as both women found their bodies were ravaged by an almost simultaneous orgasm there on the bed. Who had won? Who had lost? The answer was there on the face of both women as the lay back for a moment, enjoying the waves of pleasure that ran through their bodies. Neither had lost, both felt like they had won, and that was all that mattered.

‘Allie?’ Andrea asked now.

‘Yeah Andrea?’ the Scotsgirl replied.

‘You were right’ the Swede admitted. ‘Inside five minutes’ she said, ‘but you came too, right?’

‘I told you….but yeah, I did’ Allie agreed.

‘Then it’s a draw, and there needs to be a rematch’ Andrea pointed out.

‘Well, I guess you’re right ‘ Allie agreed.

The two women needed a few moments more to compose themselves, before they dressed quickly and headed back towards the main ballroom of the hotel to enjoy the rest of the evening. Their faces were still slightly flushed from their efforts as they entered and then they paused just under the main entrance. Mistletoe hung from the top of the door frame there, and as Beth and Jemma noticed the two had come back into the room, Allie kissed Andrea on the cheek beneath the mistletoe.

‘Andrea?’ she said after doing so.

‘Yeah Allie?’ the blonde replied.

‘Merry Christmas!’ Allie smiled.

‘And Merry Christmas to you too Allie’ the Swedish girl smiled in return.

The Main Course

Claire wants to talk to Emma

The action in the room had centred around the food, rather than sets of young ladies trying to one up each other for a while as the starter and then the main course had been served. Jemma had quickly snuck over to Allie and Andrea’s table to subtly find out the result of their little tryst, and then the event really had just become a Christmas Eve banquet for a short while. After the main course, Emma had taken one look at the queue for the rest rooms, and tutted ‘look at that bloody queue!’ just as Jemma and Beth had come over to talk to us on our table.

‘Beth’s got a key to a room mum’ Jemma smiled, ‘just use that instead!’

‘Good idea’ Emma smiled, and then Beth remembered that she didn’t have the key any more. It only took a moment to find that the key-card was now securely stored just inside Andrea’s bra. ‘I didn’t have a bag….but I knew it would be kept safe there’ the Swede smirked, handing the card to Emma who laughed, before heading off in the direction of the room. Those who had watched her progress might just have noted a smaller, dark haired woman, follow her at a safe distance from the ballroom, determined to not get spotted by Emma or anyone else as she tracked her movements, and noticed her slipping into a room down at the end of the small corridor just outside the ballroom.

‘So that’s where all these bitches have been going’ Claire thought to herself. A plan hastily devised in her mind as she followed Emma towards that now closed door. She knew just how to surprise her often times rival now. A knock on the door, firm but polite a few moments after Emma had gone inside, the call with a disguised accent of ‘room service…’ followed quickly by Emma’s voice from inside the room calling back ‘just a moment….’ as her footsteps were just about audible approaching the door which she opened to say ‘sorry, we haven’t…..’

‘Ordered anything….I know bitch’ Claire said, a firm push forcing Emma back into the room as she entered. Emma was dumbfounded for a brief moment by the developments. Claire had the advantage and that was just the way she liked it as she hastily kicked off her shoes, allowed the door to swing shut on to the latch behind her, and rushed at Emma, a tackle of sorts enabling her to dump Emma in a seated position on the edge of the mattress. Emma, in her high heels hadn’t really been able to set her feet beneath her to prevent that, but she was quick to realise any such situation with Claire could be a dangerous one. From that seated position she was quick to spread her legs just enough to receive Claire and snap them shut around her waist. Not a crushing scissor hold, it was one to give her control of the situation.

‘Bitch’ Claire whined; she slapped Emma’s face lightly at feeling herself trapped like that between her legs as the skirt of Emma’s dress rode up a little on her hips.

‘Bitch’ Emma shot back at her and returned fire with a slap to the face of her own as she eyeballed Claire with a mixture of confusion and anger in her expression. ‘What the fuck are you doing?’ she asked.

Claire reached to grab hold of Emma’s right breast, through the fabric of her emerald green dress, squeezing it as harshly as she could through the two layers of fabric. It wasn’t enough to make Emma cry out in pain, but it was enough to make sure that Claire had her full attention for the moment. ‘I’m here to wish you luck for your big title match. You and Sara. Two big bitches fighting for a title that neither of you deserve’ she sneered.

By now Emma had latched on to Claire’s right breast as well, squeezing it in a similar way to how hers was being treated by the jet haired jezabel. ‘Oh that’s right’ Emma laughed, ‘you always did think you were the one that deserved everything, but you’re not in our league are you Claire?’ she taunted.

Claire slapped her face again, not a hard blow, more delivered with speed to surprise Emma as she told her ‘I’ve beaten you….and I’ve beaten that bitch Sara’ with a smile on her face as she pointed it out. ‘I could do it again. I deserve to be in that title fight’ she claimed.

‘Remind me again how it went for you every time you faced one of us one on one, on an even footing, not trying to jump us after we’d been in a hard match Claire’ Emma questioned now, slapping the jet haired fighter’s face harder in return now. The action was just beginning to escalate a little perhaps; was there a danger that this could become a fully blown catfight between the two? ‘What’s the matter bitch?’ Emma continued, an accusatory tone to her voice as she did so. ‘Oh, that’s right. You got your arse kicked didn’t you, every time you did it on even terms. You’re clever, I’ll give you that, but one on one in a tournament final, I’d kick your arse and so would Sara. You know it. I know it. And most importantly, everyone else knows it’ Emma concluded.

‘Well if you’re so confident, why don’t you put your place in the final on the line against me you bitch?’ Claire challenged Emma as her hand went to her Emma’s right thigh, still tight around her waist. Her nails, always equipped for action, went to work shredding the top of Emma’s stocking now, sending a ladder down them well below the hemline of her dress.

‘You dirty little tart’ Emma protested, balling up her fist to send a short punch into Claire’s body now to stop her from ripping at her attire any more. ‘You have to earn a place in the tournament, as you well know. And let me check…..no, that’s right, you weren’t even close to making the cut were you?’ she said, mocking Claire’s standing in the catfight world to an extent as the jet haired jezabel took in a sharp intake of breath at receiving the short punch from Emma. Still she ripped at Emma’s stocking.

‘You’re going to look like such a slut with your torn stocking now bitch’ Claire laughed. ‘And it’s just like I thought, you’re too scared to put that place in the final on the line against me. Well, that’s just fine bitch. I knew that would happen’ she continued, reaching back to try and uncross Emma’s ankles with her hand. Emma wasn’t going to let that happen on anything other than her own terms though and she resisted the attempt for the moment, before breaking her own scissor hold before using her foot to push Claire away from her a little.

‘When I win the title, you can join the queue for a shot Claire. Like all of the other bitches who think they’re something. And when you reach the top of the list, I’ll be happy to knock you down to the bottom of the pile again!’ she taunted the jet haired fighter as she got off the bed to tower over her. Now the evident difference in the size of the two women was clear, with Emma at 5 feet 10 inches plus the height of her heels, making all 5 foot 2 inches of Claire in her stocking feet look quite diminutive.

‘Well, Merry Christmas Emma’ Claire sneered. ‘And I hope you win the title. Because just know that I’ll be gunning for you, and I’m very good at finding ways of elevating myself up the pecking order if I need to. Keep eyes in the back of your head...because one way or another, I’m going to have that title away from you….bitch!’ she said. Then without another word, Claire slipped on her heels, instantly gaining three inches in height as she did so, and turned on her heel to leave the room, leaving Emma staring daggers through her back until the door swung shut behind her. Only then did Emma tut, noting that her stocking was totally ripped now, and she couldn’t really wear them back into the ballroom. She shrugged, kicked off her shoes, and rolled both stockings down her legs, before she put her shoes back on and walked slowly towards the door, pausing only to put her stockings in the rubbish bin in the room. She smiled as she noted a torn leopard print thong in the bin, realising that her little altercation with Claire was evidently not the first action this room had seen this evening. Then she pulled the key-card from the slot, and left the room, making sure it swung shut behind he before she walked back into the ballroom and handed the key-card back to Beth for safekeeping.

As she took her seat next to me, I noticed that her expression hard darkened just a little since she’d left the room a few minutes earlier. ‘Everything OK Em?’ I asked her, a little concerned at what might have caused that.

‘Oh yes, nothing to worry about’ she said, forcing a smile a little. ‘I just had a little chat with one of Santa’s little helpers. Emphasis on the little…’ she told me.

‘Claire?’ I asked, suspecting who she was talking about.

‘Claire’ she confirmed, but she didn’t elaborate for now. I was sure she would tell me more as and when she was ready though…

After Dinner Cocktails

Jemma and Bindi’s slow dance

The evening was drawing to a close with no further altercations it seemed as Beth led Jemma off the dance-floor back to their table for a moment claiming ‘my feet are killing me. I just can’t dance any more babe!’

Jemma laughed at her girlfriend in return, pointing out ‘some tough catfighter you make honey….my feet hurt’ she smirked at receiving the inevitable bat on the arm from Beth at the remark. The two of them smiled at each other, then leaned in to kiss each other slowly and passionately, totally comfortable in their relationship with each other. They looked around the room, seeing Allie and Andrea now chatting excitedly about something or other, talking with their hands and facial expressions just as much as with their words. It was clear to anyone watching that the two friends were planning something or other, and that was just fine Jemma and Beth realised. It was just great to see the two women who had wrestled so recently getting along so well.

Over in the corner, Jemma spotted Claire smouldering intently, before she was whisked off to dance by one of the many single men at the ball. Well, she couldn’t exactly blame anyone for picking out the woman that she still thought of as being a friend of her mum’s. Something that perhaps wasn’t exactly true now. But Claire was, in Jemma’s eyes, such a hottie that anyone choosing her was clearly making a great decision. She cast her eyes around the room further, seeing us just heading for the dance-floor as the tempo of the music slowed down a little now, and smiled as we walked near to their table. And then there was Gita sat on her own, somewhere over on the opposite side of the room. A woman who had started the night with a quick defeat to Beth looked happy enough now having enjoyed the ball as well. If Gita was on her own though, then where did that mean Bindi was, Jemma wondered.

‘Can you see Bindi?’ Jemma asked Beth. ‘I mean I know where all the fighters are in this room, but I can’t see her’ she pointed out.

‘I know just where she is’ Beth told her girlfriend. ‘She’s about 10 yards away behind you, walking straight towards you’ she smiled thinly.

‘Bindi!’ Jemma said, turning just as she saw her rival nearing their table. ‘What a nice surprise. Have you enjoyed your evening?’ she asked, determined to remain civil with Bindi this evening.

‘I have thank you Jemma’ Bindi agreed. ‘But...well, Gita is such a drag sometimes, she simply won’t dance’ Bindi said ruefully. ‘I wondered….would you dance with me? You two are about the only two others that I know here, and well, I saw how Beth was limping when you came off the dance-floor, so I think you’ve danced her into the ground!’ she smiled.

Jemma looked at Beth to see if she was OK with it. Beth smiled at her girlfriend and nodded as if to say ‘go for it if you want to’. And Jemma did want to dance. She loved to dance at events like this, and it was true, she had kind of danced Beth into the ground. ‘Sure’ she smiled at Bindi, ‘I’d like that’ she told her as she grabbed her hand and led her enthusiastically towards the dance-floor. Bindi smiled too as she allowed herself to be led, but hers was a smile of a woman with something of a plan.

‘So’ Jemma asked Bindi as the two started to dance, the tempo of the music slow, Jemma pulling Bindi in close for a moment to dance in the style she felt most appropriate to the music. ‘What did you want to talk about?’

‘Oh….nothing much. Just this’ Bindi smirked, drawing her fist back and sending a short punch into Jemma’s stomach, feeling the velvety fabric of her outfit on her fist. The punch was delivered only from a few inches, but Bindi had managed to pack a little bit of force and a lot of surprise into the blow, Jemma fell forward just slightly, into a clinch with Bindi. A clinch that looked like two friends slow dancing with each other, certainly to those who could see the smile still on Bindi’s face. Jemma’s face took on a little bit more of the look of someone who wasn’t quite enjoying her time on the dance floor quite as much at the same time, as she took in a sharp intake of breath to replace that which had just been expelled from her lungs. ‘You’re soft Baines. Not like a real champion wrestler like myself. Just know that whatever the next year has in store for you, I’ll be there, just waiting for a chance to knock you off track again. Just like when I beat you and fucked you in front of nearly everyone that’s dear to you.’ she smirked.

‘Well, is that so?’ Jemma countered, her composure just returning as she appeared to dance a little clumsily so that she could step on Bindi’s foot with her black knee high boots, just returning the pain to the Indian girl a little. Bindi did her best to deny the impact of it, trying to keep her face impassive, but her eyes betrayed her a little to those in closer proximity nevertheless. ‘You see, the way I recall it, I was the first to beat little miss I’m a wrestling champion in her fledgling career. And I was the first to beat you in your own bedroom as well’ she continued. ‘I presume you still recall that clearly enough, or do you need me to remind you where that hairbrush ended up Bindi?’ she questioned.

The two danced for a moment now without exchanging any blows or words, just looking at each other as if each were planning their next moves in this encounter. They were both in clear view of everyone else on the dance-floor, trying to make sure that nobody really saw the nature of their clinch. They swayed in time with the music, but when watched closely, each gripped the body of the other a little firmer than the other couples still dancing there. Fingers just dug in to flesh a little, breasts were pressed together competitively, but still neither spoke or attacked further. It was almost as if each had tested the other enough publicly, but they would continue this rivalry again privately soon enough no doubt.

‘You know Bindi’ Jemma smiled at her rival now, ‘I actually count on the fact that you’re going to keep coming for me, and trying to show me up. I like fighting you. You’re a good opponent, even though you can be a bit of a bitch at times. I’m sure we’ll fight many more times’ she continued, looking at the Indian girl. ‘But tonight isn’t going to be one of them, and I don’t think you want that either. Next time we fight, maybe you’ll win, maybe I’ll win, but maybe one day we’ll both be champion catfighters’ she pointed out.

‘Maybe you’re right Jemma’ Bindi agreed now, something of an accord having been reached between the two. ‘Maybe we do make each other better. Maybe we are both capable of beating each other still. And maybe we will both be champions one day. But rest assured, if you get there first, I’ll be coming for your title…’ she smiled.

‘I know you will, and I look forward to it Bindi’ Jemma smiled. ‘Now if you don’t mind Bindi, I’m going to go and get Beth and dance with her. I mean, she’s had a good five minutes to rest now. Surely she’ll be ready to dance again by now!’

‘You know, I think you might be right’ Bindi smiled.

‘Merry Christmas Bindi’ Jemma smiled in return, giving her rival a little hug before she went to get Beth from the table, leading her leg weary girlfriend back to the dance-floor one last time on the evening.

As the two embraced each other much more lightly than Jemma had with Bindi a moment earlier, their bodies lightly brushing each other as they moved in time to the music, Beth asked Jemma ‘what was that all about?’

‘With Bindi?’ Jemma asked.

‘Yes, with Bindi’ Beth replied.

‘I think she just wanted to wish me a Merry Christmas. She just did it by telling me how she was going to beat me next year’ Jemma spoke quietly, straight into Beth’s ear as her head rested on her girlfriend’s shoulder.

‘Oh well that’s OK then’ Beth smiled. ‘And what did you say to her?’ she asked Jemma now.

‘I told her Merry Christmas too’ Jemma smiled. ‘And how I was going to beat her as well!’

‘I think you two will fight each other for as long as you’re both catfighting somehow. You’re that kind of rivals’ she suggested.

‘Oh totally….but that doesn’t matter for now’ Jemma told Beth, who looked a bit puzzled.

‘Well why not?’ she asked Jemma.

‘Simple’ Jemma smiled. ‘Merry Christmas Beth, it’s past midnight’ she said, kissing Beth lightly on the lips. ‘Does that mean I get to unwrap my present now?’ she asked.

‘Well, I do still have that key-card’ Beth smirked, a glint in her eye. ‘So why not!’ she practically purred in Jemma’s ear as she took her hand and led her off the dance-floor, and out of the ballroom….