For years you and she have been office rivals. Work enemies. And in every way possible: at odds. But when finally you could take no more of her eye rolling, insults, or brushes in the hall, you challenge her.
To come to your home.
To meet you woman to woman, once and for all.
And though when she arrives you both strip and glare — strut and circle. At the very moment she lunges, your hidden and waiting bestie reveals herself.
She, with her canary-blonde hair, grabbing your nemesis’ arms and holding her as you strike. Again and again. Until the same woman who for so long spent her voice deriding you begins to cry.
To whine.
To whimper for your collective mercy.
A mercy you will give to her, once she has been taught a lesson. Once she has eaten not only your friend’s pussy, but your own.
You hoping that the mixed tastes of your womanhoods will be one that she recalls, whenever she sees you, from that day on.