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Arabian Fights – Blonde Fury
By Wolfboy
Beth gets her chance to impress Jemma on the tour
Beth had accepted the chance for her first fight of her and Jemma’s trip around the world, following Jemma’s defeat to the French fighter Camille Belmont in the desert. It had actually been the French woman who had put them in touch with someone who loved to host intimate dinner parties that ended with his wife fighting a blonde in front of the guests.
Key distinction had been the word ‘fight’ in
the description of these parties. Camille made sure that they both understood
that the women was a nasty one, prone to fighting dirty. Not that there was
really any such thing in an all-in catfight of course, but the implication was
clear enough; she’s going to try and hurt you, so do the same to her first! That
was something Beth had very much in mind as she accepted the fight without a
second thought. ‘If she wants to take it that way, I’m going to show her things
she’s never even thought of Jem….just watch me. Put your best dress on and look
stunning for me, enjoy your dinner….then sit back and enjoy the main
course….me!’ she had smiled when Jemma had asked her if she was really sure
about the match. The confidence her girlfriend was displaying had truly
surprised her; she couldn’t deny that she liked it though!
There was one further surprise for Jemma as well. Beth had announced that she would need a couple of hours to really get prepared, before heading out with a bag over her shoulder for the hotel hair salon. ‘I want to be a total surprise to you when you see me again babe, so make your own way to the party. I’ll be there to kick that bitch’s arse….don’t worry’. Jemma had just smiled at that statement, admiring the confidence in her girlfriend’s voice, and wondering just what kind of surprises she might have in store later on in the evening.
Jemma followed Beth’s request to a tee. When Beth had said to put on her best dress for her, she knew just which one she had meant; an emerald green strappy dress that shimmered as it adorned Jemma’s body, contrasting perfectly with her fiery red hair. With it went a pair of towering nude coloured heels that elevated Jemma’s sleek long legs to the next level. Finally, she piled most of her red hair on top of her head in a lightly curled bundle of flame coloured locks, applied very light makeup, and slipped a light shawl across her shoulders before going down to the hotel lobby and stepping out into the warm evening air to step into the private car sent to collect her for the evening. It was a short ride across a small part of the city to a more residential area, and Jemma entered a block of apartments, following the instructions to ride the elevator to the 7th floor. There she exited that lift, and walked down a marble corridor, her heels clicking across the hard surface, as she walked towards a separate lift to convey her to the 8th floor. She showed a card with her invite on it to the camera on the outside of this lift, before it opened to allow her in. This was the entrance to the apartment where Beth would fight later on after all, the lift controlled by a security man within the apartment.
That ride from the 7th floor to the 8th took just seconds, before Jemma stepped out into a huge and finely furnished apartment to be greeted by the man whose wife Beth would be fighting shortly. ‘Jemma I presume?’ he said, his voice having a surprisingly polished British accent to it. ‘Beth asked me to tell you she’s here, and she hopes you enjoy your dinner before the main course’ he continued, taking Jemma’s arm to lead her into the main room of the apartment. There a dinner table was set up with four other guests, two couples it seemed, with Jemma taking the spare seat opposite the man she had met at the door. There was small talk around the table that Jemma found she was surprisingly at ease with joining in with. The weather (wasn’t it hot!), the latest series of Love Island, some sports talk interspersed with delicious food all helped to pass the time. From time to time though, Jemma found herself casting a fleeting glance across the room to the area where she assumed the fight would happen. A thick pile rug in a duck egg blue colour tightly bordered by a square of four long sofas seemed the obvious area to her.
‘You’re right’ the man, who was called Khalil Jemma had learned, now confirmed, answering her unspoken question. ‘That’s where they will fight shortly’ he said, ‘your girlfriend and my wife will be going at each other hard.’
‘They will’ Jemma agreed. ‘I’m looking forward to seeing it now. Beth told me she was going to surprise me’ she admitted.
‘Well, she’s lucky to have you’ Khalil told her. ‘I don’t know what her surprise for you is though’ he had to admit.
‘Trust me, I’m the lucky one’ Jemma smiled in return, and both continued to play their part in the conversation around the table, each of them with their minds racing ahead to what was to come now. Eventually the food was finished, plates were cleared away, glasses topped up, and the time for action was near.
‘Shall we move over to the sofas?’ Khalil asked the table, getting up to lead the way, meaning that Jemma would get a close up view of the action. The area between the sofas was a little bit bigger than Jemma had first thought as she took up a seat on one of the leather sofas. Not significantly though, it was a tight space, probably done specifically with the kind of fight they understood Khalil’s wife enjoyed in mind. Everyone put their feet up on the sofas, presumably to keep them out of the way of the two fighters, and Jemma followed suit, feeling her already quite short dress riding up that little higher on her thigh. She shrugged to herself as she balanced the wine glass in her hand, knowing that while her dress might have made her the centre of attention in some circles, here today, the focus would shortly be very firmly elsewhere on Beth and Khalil’s wife Laila. The conversation was a little more stilted now also Jemma noticed as all six were merely marking time it seemed before the main event of the evening, so to speak, would begin.
Jemma was aware now of two sets of heels clipping across the marble floor behind her, heading closer to where they were seated, knowing it could only be Beth and Laila approaching. She felt that twinge of anxiousness, butterflies perhaps, on behalf of her girlfriend; something she rarely felt when it was she herself that was fighting. She’d barely had time to register that feeling, and wonder why it was the case before Beth walked past her, trailing the tips of her fingers across the bare skin of Jemma’s shoulder. It was as if a bit of electricity had passed through her body almost, the touch raising goosebumps on her skin despite the warm conditions. Beth didn’t stop walking though, going to the opposite side of the rug from Jemma before she perched on the arm of the sofa there to unfasten the ankle strap of her shoes so that she might remove them. Now Jemma could see just what Beth had meant when she said she’d surprise her when she saw her again. Gone was the often slightly awkward looking blonde with the apparently unkempt hair, although that version of Beth was in there somewhere still. In her place stood a vampishly elegant young blonde woman, as confident as she was sophisticated in her appearance. She’d kicked off the towering high heels now to stand there in a mesh and lace lingerie body suit in a mixture of purle and black, strategically placed patches of lace just maintaining her dignity for now. Her nails were painted in a matching purple colour to her outfit, looking so glossy that Jemma wondered if they were acrylics even. Beth’s make up looked to have been professionally done too, perhaps part of the visit to the salon where her usually slightly unkempt hair had been transformed to an impeccably perfect blond pixie cut. Metaphorically at least, as she watched Beth roll sheer black hold-up stockings off her legs, she made Jemma’s jaw drop. At least until her view of her girlfriend was blocked by Khalil’s wife Laila, who stepped in to her field of vision.
Suddenly the apprehension was back for Jemma a little now as she got her first look at the woman her girlfriend would fight. She knew there would be no introductions made, so she tried to weigh their stats against each other quickly in her mind. Of course, it was no secret to her that Beth was 5 feet 7 inches, 135lbs and had 34C breasts; she knew all of her girlfriend’s curves intimately. Laila she quickly appraised was an inch or so shorter, but looked thicker, probably outweighing Beth by 10lbs. Her breasts were a cup size bigger Jemma thought too, noting the overall appearance of the attractive Lebanese woman. She had masses of dark hair, almost black but tinged with a deep red colour, held back a little by a thin headband. She hoped Beth would try to get rid of the headband as soon as possible, as she considered that Beth would find Laila’s hair an easy target to fins, while any hair pulling done in return by Laila would be close to the scalp of her girlfriend, guaranteed to hurt plenty. Finally, she took in the appearance of Laila one last time, her olive coloured skin almost flawless except for what looked to be an occasional mark caused by teeth or nails. She looked strong, toned and ready in a white lingerie set of mesh bra, Brazilian cut panties, and a white suspender belt attached to a three inch band of white lace around each of her strong looking thighs.
There was no referee, no official start to a fight as such, it just happened really, a couple of insults to get things smouldering before the action burst into life. ‘Fucking little cunt. I eat bitches like you for breakfast’ Laila spat at Beth who was totally nonplussed. Then she eased the crotch of her body suit to one side and told Laila ‘just as well you like eating bitches like me….because you’ll be eating this when I’m done with you, you fucking tart!’
‘Fuck you!’ Laila retorted, crossing part of the small arena marked by the sofas towards Beth with two or three purposeful strides. ‘No….fuck you!’ Beth shot back, closing the distance so that both could whip slaps across the other woman’s face hard. The sound up close was unmistakable, one of the watching women flinching more at the sound than either Beth or Laila had on actually feeling them Jemma noted.. Nether woman in the fight really had time to react so, taking the fight to each other with a handful of hair, both grimacing slightly at the sharp tugging sensation they felt in their scalps. Beth tattooed Laila’s ribs with a heavy slap, while the olive skinned woman wasted no time in closing up her fist and burying it into Beth’s belly. Beth took it without too much in the way of concern though, looking straight into Laila’s eyes and calling her a ‘fucking pillow fisted cunt’ before flailing away with some more slaps to the body looking like she might take the fight quickly away from the host’s wife. Not so quick though might have been Laila’s retort as she went back to the body with a bit more force this time, finding her range to draw a groan from Beth as knuckles sunk into her body.
‘You were saying little girl?’ the older woman practically sneered in her face, grabbing the front of Beth’s flimsy lingerie suit and using it as a grip to pull Beth off balance. Dragging her around the room, Laila picked up some momentum before she threw Beth using that momentum so that she actually landed on top of Jemma on the sofa. Jemma was a little surprised, but Beth was actually laughing as she landed on top of her girlfriend, and just about managed to brush lips with Jemma, before she felt Laila in her hair, roughly wrenching her away and to her feet. ‘Hey!’ Beth exclaimed, before she drove the point of her elbow into Laila’s belly forcing her off. ‘I was fucking busy there!’ she admonished the dark haired brawler, lashing out a kick that caught Laila on the thigh as she tried, but failed, to get out of range of Beth’s long legs. Jemma smiled at how Beth was holding her own so far, even as Laila rushed back in with a flurry of slaps aimed at her head. Calmly, she seemed to block most of them, before she tagged Laila with a slap that rocked her face to the side, and then she smiled a little malevolently before slashing her glossy purple nails across Laila’s stomach, raising a shriek of anguish. It pushed the dark haired fighter on to the back foot for the first time now also, as she realised perhaps Beth wasn’t one to be taken lightly after all. Indeed, it was Beth beckoning her back in now, demanding ‘come on you little cunt, fight!’ of the hosts wife.
Laila did so, looking like she knew only one way to go about her business in a fight, straight ahead, brawling ferocity. It was probably an effective style in general, most women no doubt meeting her head on in that style. Beth wasn’t most women though, not today; not ever in Jemma’s eyes. Laila was catching her with furious slaps, stinging blows, but Beth seemed to brush them off so far, before shifting cleverly to create an angle and punch or slap into the body of Laila, constantly targeting her left hand side with the shots when she could. Laila continued to flail away until a right uppercut, landing just below the breast, stopped the dusky fighter in her tracks with a loud groan of pain. Beth was straight on to her, a knee to the body doubling her up, a knee lift to the breasts dropping her to her haunches, and then a third strike, this time a kick to the body put Laila down on the rug. A supreme show of confidence then from Beth; she didn’t follow up, instead going to sit next to Jemma, hand stroking her girlfriend’s bare leg for a moment as she told her opponent ‘take your time bitch!’
That drew a flare to Laila’s eyes at the way this young blonde was handling her so cockily in front of her husband and her friends. Perhaps she wasn’t a woman used to having things go against her in a fight Jemma wondered as Beth patted her leg then got up to rejoin the battle, trapping the Lebanese woman in a front headlock as she rose. Laila’s response to that was predictable enough, sending her firsts into Beth’s body to try and force her off while Beth stood firm just yet, getting up towards her tiptoes to add choking pressure to her grip. ‘Uuugghhh….you slut. Fight me!’ Laila rasped evidently not satisfied with the way Beth was going about her business here. ‘Fight you?’ Beth asked, feeling Laila’s nails now digging into her ass, ‘I’m kicking your arse old lady!’ she mocked, releasing the hold and clubbing Laila to her knees in front of her with a big forearms across the back. Suddenly though, Beth shrieked loudly, Laila having taken a crotch grab on her from that position on her knees, forcing Beth to her tiptoes again as it reminded her Laila was still a dangerous enough woman with some nasty intentions given the chance. Beth slapped at her face, forcing Laila to eat the palm of her hand twice as she continued to work the punishing grip between her legs, enjoying that for now, she was starting to hurt this young blonde upstart.
It was pretty evident that the mesh and lace bodysuit was doing very little to protect Beth from the crotch claw as she moaned in pain, slapping Laila’s face again.
‘Stop
slapping me you fucking lesbian whore!’ Laila demanded of Beth now.
‘Stop mauling my pussy then you stupid twat!’ Beth replied, slapping Laila again just for good measure. Then she drew her foot back as if to send another kick into Laila’s body, only to howl in pain, her attempt thwarted as Laila worked the pussy maul hard before sending a punch into Beth’s stomach. Beth was knocked off balance to the rug, landing on her backside in front of Laila who immediately lunged for her, knocking Beth flat to her back and pinning her there for a moment. Her leg fought for control of Beth’s briefly, trying to get a grapevine to no avail as Beth defended with her legs raised high. No great concern for Laila though as she slapped Beth across the face, then grabbed her hair with both hands and pulled, making sure that her elbows were grinding into the Beth’s breasts at the same time. ‘Bitch!’ Beth moaned, suddenly finding herself getting punished with an increased level of enthusiasm by Laila who evidently felt things to be going more her way. She slapped Beth’s face again now, this one a heavy downward slap to nose and mouth that made Beth groan as it landed, giving Jemma some concern, but she saw the look of determination set in her girlfriend’s face still.
In reply, Beth started to slap and punch to Laila’s body, her blows perhaps lacking some power given her position beneath the older woman. She was landing them undefended though, Laila preferring to focus on the hair pulling rather than defence meaning that Beth could work her over one blow at a time until suddenly it was Laila starting to moan and groan more than Beth. ‘Fucking pussy’ Beth practically spat in Laila’s face, earning herself another of those heavy slaps to the face, but the Lebanese woman realised she was starting to get the worst end of things from the blonde now, and broke off the attack, instead using the hair to force Beth upright. She looked to throw Beth again now, aiming her roughly in the direction of Jemma again, this time Beth falling a little short of the sofa, and Jemma looked down at her, pleased to see her girlfriend looked calm and collected and certainly not flustered by being hurled across the rugs. ‘Get up you little whore!’ Laila snarled as she went back to Beth’s short blonde hair to try and force her to her feet, Jemma wincing a little as she knew that hair pull must be painful for her girlfriend. It was Laila’s face that registered the look of pain though as Beth’s knuckles connected flush with her crotch in an uppercut as she rose, and Laila fell to her butt, hands clutching at her womanhood.
Beth was on her knees on the rug as Laila’s hand left her hair following the uppercut landing, and she was quickly to her feet. That allowed her to grab Laila’s flowing raven hair so she might hold her in place to send a knee in hard between her breasts to flatten her to the rug. On top, Beth kept up the attack, stomping Laila’s belly, before she grabbed her ankles and flipped her on to her front in a boston crab. Jemma smiled as she noted Beth had carefully positioned Laila so that she was looking directly at her husband as she suffered in the hold, Beth keeping the pressure just about bearable for the Lebanese woman. It was apparent that Beth felt in control to the extent she wasn’t exactly toying with Laila, who moaned ‘OWWWWW! My back!’, but she was certainly prepared to apply the hold for control as much as to finish her. A bit of a risky game to play Jemma thought, but Beth stayed in control as she broke off the boston crab and immediately dropped a heavy elbow across Laila’s lower back. That drew another cry of pain from the raven haired wife of the host, and Beth continued with confidence, bringing her to her knees so that she could prod a kick into her ribs. It wasn’t the most damaging of blows, but it held Laila in place for a moment to allow Beth to unclasp her mesh bra and pull it from her body to expose her breasts. Expose those breasts to a second kick, this one delivered with a little more gusto to roll Laila to her back on that soft blue rug, clutching her breasts and moaning loudly in pain.
Beth felt like she had her, but again she took her time, allowing Laila to writhe in pain on the rug as she went and sat next to Jemma again for a brief moment. ‘I think it’s time to finish her off babe’ she told Jemma as she stroked her bare leg again; Jemma just nodded and smiled in agreement at that thought. Beth got back up now, going to Laila’s hair and immediately shipped a weak right hand to the body. ‘Come on you old tart’ she laughed, using the hair to present Laila’s face for a stinging slap, ‘I thought you were tough?’ she continued as she brought her upright now. ‘Nooo!’ Laila cried out as Beth scooped her up to deposit her with some ease and authority there at the centre of the rug. Then with supreme confidence, she simply dropped in to a heavy reverse face sit, a couple of minor adjustments to her positioning before she was satisfied she had the move applied to maximum effect. Where she’d positioned Laila in the boston crab to look at her husband, now she had positioned herself so that she could lock eyes with Jemma as she used her favourite move, starting to roll her hips and grind her ass and pussy hard on the older woman’s face. This was a punishing move, one that was quickly going to take the fight out of Laila if she couldn’t dislodge Beth, and she faced a problem in that Beth was sat with almost perfect balance on her face.
Desperate kicks and squirms did little to get Laila free and everything to tire her as Beth stayed confidently in place, almost serene in contrast to the frantic attempts of Laila to dislodge her. Then the coup de grace from Beth who slapped Laila’s breasts hard, then teased her nipples for a moment as she told her ‘remember what I told you you’d be eating bitch?’. Laila kicked and bucked that bit harder as Beth eased her bodysuit to the side again to get her naked pussy on the Lebanese woman’s face. Now the cries of anguish were loud but muffled from Laila as Beth continued to slap heavily at her breasts. She wasn’t used to being treated like this, not by a younger blonde; she was a woman used to dominating these younger women. Today she had met her match though as she practically sobbed out her submission, earning one last stinging slap to the breasts from Beth before she got off her and demurely adjusted her lingerie back into place. Down on the rug, Laila buried her face in her hands; over on the sofa, Khalil’s face was lit up with the excitement of a man realising for the first time just how much he’d enjoyed seeing his wife dominated, and on the other sofas, the couples there smiled at the enjoyment of a well fought fight.
Beth only had eyes for one person in that room though now, and that was Jemma who was sat, legs still curled under her on the sofa, a look of immense love and pride on her face at the way her girlfriend had performed. As Laila took herself off to gather her thoughts, Beth spoke briefly to everyone on the sofas before running upstairs to change herself. It was only a few moments before she reappeared, a dress and shoes hastily put on over the lingerie she had fought in. She and Jemma were ready to leave, and they chatted briefly with Khalil at the door to the lift.
‘I do hope I wasn’t too rough for your wife?’ Beth asked, a sweet smile on her face now.
‘Oh, not at all’ Khalil practically beamed. ‘Well, I mean….yes, you clearly were’ he corrected himself, ‘but that’s on her. I told her it would happen sooner or later if she didn’t train hard enough for her fights, but she’s used to women just rolling over for her most times’ he said.
‘Well we always make sure we train well’ Jemma smiled. ‘It’s very important’.
‘Indeed!’ Khalil said. ‘And if she wants a rematch?’ he asked Beth as the lift arrived and the girls stepped into it.
‘Tell her anytime’ Beth said confidently, knowing that she wouldn’t want one, just before the door closed and they started their way back to the 7th floor. There it was two sets of heels that clicked down the long marble hallway to the next set of lifts to the lobby this time. Jemma and Beth contained their emotions patiently as they walked out of the apartment building and into the waiting car. A short ride back to the hotel, a few minutes to ride the elevator and find their room. Finally, outside the room, Jemma spoked in a hushed tones. ‘You were right babe….you did have quite the surprise for me, and for that bitch Laila as well!’ she said as she unlocked the door passing the key card over the sensor. As the door closed behind them, she added ‘and fuck me…..you looked gorgeous doing it!’
‘Fuck me?’ Beth smiled with a glint in her eye as she grabbed Jemma’s hair playfully, unwinding the pile of flame curls as she led her towards the king-sized bed in the room. ‘I thought you’d never ask….’