Avon Calling by Rino


Zhao Wei stepped out of the lift at the 15th floor: the penthouse. She had walked from the Singapore MTA the world’s most efficient subway as it and her feet were the only transportation she could afford.

It was a warm spring day in 1956, and Zhao was out trying to make some money. Her husband was laid up on half-time wages after an accident down at the plant. It would be at least a month before he could get back to work. Ju-Lin had been upset when Zhao proposed trying to earn a little money selling cosmetics, but a quick review of the bank balance persuaded him that it was necessary. They had two hungry toddlers at home, and a 99 year Singapore mortgage. The money Zhao could earn peddling Avon would definitely help.

So here was Zhao, a pretty young housewife with short black hair. She was dressed in a light blue skirt and matching jacket, with a long-sleeved white blouse. She was slender, and she took a little bit of wicked delight in wearing a garter belt to hold up her sheer stockings instead of a panty girdle. Her feet were encased in black high heel pumps. She wore a necklace of cultured pearls and simple gold-plated earrings. Her dark brown eyes were wide under carefully stenciled and plucked brows.

The sample case was heavy, and she shifted the strap to her shoulder. There was something new in the case; something she thought would help cinch some sales.

Thus burdened, she walked up to the front door of the Hui house. The penthouse apartment was a two-story house perched on the top of the building and 30 times the size of the two-bedroom place that Zhao and Ju-Lin shared.

Xin Hui was the richest woman on her list given to her by the office. When she telephoned to set up a visit, Zhao had been nervous. Xin had learned in the weekly teas she had with former Avon sellers she a reputation as a vicious harridan who could slice you up. But it was the money that drew Zhao in. A good sale here would put food on the table.

She rang the doorbell. A moment later, the door swung open, revealing Xin Hui. She was a tall woman, impressively shaped, with hair of purest jet black silk, gathered up in a tight wave and secured behind her head. She wore a tight black dress over sheer stockings, and her feet were housed in expensive spike-heeled pumps that matched her dress. The dress was long-sleeved, and an expensive diamond bracelet enclosed the wrist of the hand she now extended to Zhao.

"Girl, come in, my dear!" she said. "And don't you look all dressed up today. So very pretty." Xin's sharp eyes glittered, and the tip of her pink tongue could be seen gleaming wetly between her plump painted lips as she spoke.

Zhao said quietly, "Thank you, Mrs. Hui. It's nice of you to see me." She stepped into the foyer as Xin closed the door behind them.

"Oh, no, Zhao!" Xin said brightly. "Let's not stand on ceremony here, my dear. Please, my name is Xin."

"Well, all right, Xin." Zhao realized that the shield of formality could not be used in the face of such open apparent friendliness. She wondered if her judgments about Xin Hui were mere prejudices, the product of gossip and envy. But still...she felt it was wise to be wary.

Xin led the way into the living room, her hips swaying in the tight dress. Zhao, walking behind her, noticed that her rear end was not encased in a panty girdle. Xin was indeed a voluptuous woman for a Chinese, quite provocatively shaped for someone in her mid to late thirties.

They entered the quiet, well-furnished living room. The furniture was contemporary, low, and sleek. A current combination stereo/hi-fi/color console dominated one wall. Several calligraphy works (all originals, as far as Zhao could tell) were arranged on the walls. An oil painting of the Hui clan was over the fireplace, showing Xin, looking demure for a change, her graying husband, and Xin's teen-aged son, safely ensconced now in prep school.

A sterling silver tea service was on the low coffee table. Xin indicated with a slight movement of her hand for Zhao to sit down. Zhao did so, putting her bag and sample case on the beige carpet beside her low-back chair. Xin sat down on the turquoise sofa, and made a slight show of tugging the hem of her dress down to her knees. She didn't quite make it. Zhao caught a glimpse of white panties and the pink flesh of Xin's firm thighs.

"So, Zhao, how is your husband doing?"

Zhao paused for a second, gathering her thoughts. "Well, the doctors tell us he should be able to start working again in a month. It depends on how well the fractures heal. Thank you for asking."

Xin said, "Well, that's good. I'm certain you would love to get back to your house and take care of children. Tea?"

"Yes, thank you."

Xin poured the tea into the delicate porcelain cups. Zhao took the little expensive cup. She took the first tentative sip of the green tea and murmured, "That's quite good."

Xin smiled, a closed-lip smile of slight superiority. "Why, thank you, my dear. The secret is choosing the right tea and keeping things scrupulously clean. You certainly couldn't just use the tea from the any old street shop, could you?"

Zhao felt a brief current of unease flash through her. She shopped at the cheapest Asian Grocery, as did most of the families in the neighborhood, and she thought there was nothing wrong with the tea. But she smiled and nodded.

"So what's new with Avon these days? Anything exciting?"

Zhao put down the teacup and reached for the sample case. She opened it and pulled out a few golden tubes of lipstick and various other cosmetics. She launched into her spiel.

"Just this month, Avon has these new shades of lipstick. It seems that paler colors are the coming thing, and these lipsticks match the colors being seen in Paris and London."

Xin frowned, pursing her lips. "I prefer more vibrant colors."

"Well, we still do have those bold shades, plus a few more. We also have some new foundations, and longer-lasting mascara." As she spoke, Zhao pulled items out of the sample case and laid them on the table.

Xin put her teacup down and leaned forward, thrusting her impressive breasts frontward. The black dress had a scoop neckline, and a slice of cleavage became well-defined as the breasts became compressed. She idly picked up some of the lipsticks, then put them down.

She looked up at Zhao, and said, "Isn't there anything that's suited for a woman of my tastes? I mean, I'm not some stay-at-home housewife with couple of brats hanging around her ankles. I have social obligations to attend to."

Zhao bridled inwardly. This snotty bitch was going to be difficult. Easy, she told herself. This is a customer. Easy.

Zhao smiled, but her eyes were neutral. "Avon does a have a line of more expensive cosmetics, including some cologne that have been well received. I don't have them here, but this catalog has a detailed description of everything, and I would be happy to get some samples from the main office."

Xin made a dismissing gesture with her hands. "Oh, I could always go into Paragon, ( This is situated at 290 Orchard Rd and is Singapore's more expensive mall, packed with Prada, Gucci and other luxury brands). and check the latest perfumes. I guess you don't get much of a chance to do that, do you?"

Zhao said evenly, "No, I guess I don't."

Xin said, "You know, I just thought of something you should know. My husband's firm is looking at purchasing that company where your husband works."

Zhao nodded. She knew that the factory where Ju-Lin worked was ailing financially. But Ju-Lin was a skilled tool and die man, and he felt confident that there would always be a place for him there, no matter who owned it.

Xin said, "It looks pretty definite. You know, the right word from me could mean things for you and your husband. It could mean big things."

Zhao was instantly wary. What was going on here? "I'm not exactly sure what you're getting at, Xin."

"I've had my eye on you, Zhao," Xin said. "For a while now, I've had my eye on you and some of the other women in this neighborhood." Xin looked steadily at Zhao, her eyes a bit hooded.

What was that look? It was a challenging stare, and perhaps a bit dangerous. Zhao felt herself on very thin ice. The implication was that the wrong word from Xin could do serious damage to her family.

Xin leaned back. She said, "I went to school at Eton House International School on Orchard Boulevard. . A marvelous education, in many ways." She closed her eyes, and briefly licked her lips with a tiny pink tongue. "I learned many things there, and I developed some, shall we say, avant-garde tastes."

Zhao matched Xin's posture. She leaned back in her chair and said, "I presume you're not talking about cosmetics. Or music. Or books."

Xin laughed. "Oh, you might say that the area was sports."

"I see." Zhao started taking the samples off the table and putting them back in the case. She finished that, and said, in a frigid tone, "I think we're done here, Mrs. Hui. I don't care where you went to school, or what you learned there, or what your husband buys. I particularly don't care about whatever perversions you cooked up with other snooty bitches at Eton International."

She delivered the last in a deadly monotone, as Xin sat on her expensive sofa and listened, an enigmatic half-smile on her face. She then stood up and said softly, "Oh well, my dear, just forget it, then. No harm done. Here, let me see you out."

Zhao nodded. Xin led the way slowly, and Zhao followed, a couple of steps behind. As they got to the front door, Xin paused, her hand on the doorknob.

Zhao waited, her face wooden. Inside she was seething. How dare this rich bitch try something like this? How could she try this perverse seduction, when here she was trying to put food on her table?

Xin said, in stinging harsh tones, "You know, you are a silly excuse for a woman, going out on public transport, dressed in what you laughingly call your finest, peddling your cheap cosmetics door-to-door. Just so you can get another bowl or two of noodles to feed your broken man and your squalling brats."

Zhao gasped, "You goddamn bitch! How dare you? I ought to...ought to...." She had half-raised her hand."

"Ought to what? Do you think you can fight me? You are a pitiful little girl. Go ahead! You don't have the guts! The woman hasn't been born that can beat me! Go ahead, you little bitch!"

Zhao dropped her sample case on the floor, followed by her pocketbook. She stood there a second, mouth open in shock. Anger surged through her, anger accompanied by a dangerous emotion she dared not name.

She yelled, "Oh, FUCK YOU!" and suddenly her hands were tangled in Xin's fine hair sprayed hair, pulling it sharply. She twisted her away from the door.

Xin screamed back, "OH, YEAH! I'M GOING TO HURT YOU, YOU FUCKING CUNT!" Xin's hands struck forward and entangled themselves in Zhao's long dark hair, and the women started screaming incoherent snatches of venom.

They tumbled to the carpeted floor like female wildcats, Xin falling on top of Zhao. The fight was on.

As Zhao fell to the carpeted floor of the foyer, her legs flew open, and she heard her skirt rip along the slit. The hem of the skirt rucked itself up around to the middle of her thighs, and Xin's heavy leg fell between her legs. Her crotch was suddenly slammed with the muscular weight of Xin's leg.

"Ummph!" she cried. She twisted her hand into Xin's thin hair and pulled. Xin yelled and tried to pull herself up, slapping a hand down on Zhao's wrist to wrestle it away from the hair.

The clip that held Xin's hair slipped off, and Xin was able to twist her head away. She pulled herself halfway up and slapped Zhao hard in the face, a stinging blow.

The pain enraged Zhao. She swung her right hand up and caught Xin on the jaw, a solid connection. Xin's head snapped back. Zhao quickly scrambled out from under the voluptuous woman and quickly pulled herself to her feet.

Xin put a hand down on the rug, and hoisted herself up to one knee. She raised her face to Zhao, and Zhao was shocked to see a grin on that face. She was enjoying this!

Through the sudden anger that had descended like a red haze over her consciousness, Zhao realized that the sudden kick of adrenaline had energized her, and made her feel edgy and quick. She felt the drive to crush this woman who had the audacity to insult her and her family, to rend and tear her clothes and make her submit. She wanted that blonde bitch underneath her, and she was determined to follow through.

And that honest corner of her mind also realized that she wanted this.

Zhao bent down her head and charged, extending her arms like claws. As she hit Xin's midsection with her head, she grabbed onto Xin's arms, and barreled her backwards.

"Oooooffff!" Xin sharply uttered. She was propelled backwards into the living room, her legs furiously backpedaling in their high heels. She landed on her back, her butt cushioning her fall a bit, and Zhao landed on top of her. Xin's legs were bumped apart, the tight skirt suddenly splitting with a tear, and Zhao's hips fell between those powerful thighs.

Xin suddenly wrapped her arms around Zhao's torso, twisting the blue jacket. She squeezed her arms together, grunting.

Zhao's middle was in-between Xin's legs, and she tried to raise herself up on her arms. This caused her pelvic region to scrape along the front of Xin's panties. Zhao noted that her crotch was now firmly placed in contact with Xin's. She strained against Xin's strong bear hug, her own hands trying to crush the wealthy woman's arms.

Zhao brought her upper body down sharply. Her breasts slammed down onto Xin's large bosom, and Xin gasped in shock. Zhao felt a small hot needle of triumph. She raised her body again, and pushed it down, again trying to pound Xin's large heavy breasts with her own smaller orbs. They were firmer, and Xin made several gasping whoops as Zhao beat her chest up and down.

Xin finally released her tight embrace. Before Zhao could lower her tits down again, Xin reached up and pressed her hands onto Zhao's breasts and started to squeeze them.

Zhao felt the sharp pain in her breasts, and her eyes started to water. The rubbing of the bra on her nipples started to stiffen them, and the erect nipples were exquisitely tender.

Okay, two could play at that game. She tried to ignore the sharp pain in her breasts, and bent her fingers into claws. She swiftly hooked her hands onto Xin's large breasts and started to maul them.

"Oh, you goddamn cunt! You fucking slut!" Xin raged, spittle flying up from her mouth.

The women continued their mutual breast mangling, with waves of pain emanating from their boobs. Zhao tried again to raise herself up, and succeeded only in grinding her panty-covered crotch into Xin's mound.

The two women's eyes met, Zhao looking down at Xin as they continued to squeeze and mangle one another's breasts. Their faces were contorted with anger, lips curled back against their white teeth, eyes narrowed in fierce primal malevolence.

A part of Zhao's mind wondered at it all. Here she was, locked in this absurd battle with a neighbor, a god damned catfight, for Christ's sake, in 1956. In the fucking suburbs! This was the new Singapore. Such things did not happen here.

But another wave of pain from her tender breasts brought her back to reality. This snobby disgusting bitch was trying to tear her apart The only thing she could do was fight back.

With an extra impetus of anger, she rolled off Xin and to the side. She whimpered briefly and she lifted her hands to her wounded breasts.

Xin's hand fell away and she brought them to her own tender orbs, making irregular moans. Both women lay on their back for about fifteen seconds, aching, as they tried to gather their strength.

Zhao tried to rise to a sitting position. She thought if she could get to her feet, she might be able to get to the door and get the hell out of here.

But it wasn't to be. Xin said, huskily, "Oh, you are the perfect playmate, you are. I'm going to enjoy this!"

She rolled quickly to her side and clamped her arm against Zhao's torso, the forearm slamming into her chest just over the breasts. Zhao found herself falling backwards onto the carpet again.

Xin quickly hooked her right leg over and worked it between Zhao's legs. Her skirt was raised almost all the way up, revealing the bare flesh between her stockings and the panties.

Zhao tried to work her arms under Xin's, tearing at the sleeve. But Xin had raised herself up partway and her upper body added to the weight. Plus, something new had been added to the equation.

Zhao's eyes went wide with surprise. Xin had worked her other hand down between her legs. Xin moved her own leg out of the way, just enough for her strong fingers to suddenly start rubbing Zhao's panty-clad pussy with strong, knowing strokes.

Zhao turned her head to Xin's, her mouth open in a silent amazed question. Xin looked at her, her eyes starting to swim with catfight lust, and she continued the intimate questing rough caress.

Zhao squawked and tried to get away. Xin's strong arm and legs held her fast. She was helpless for the moment, and she twisted around as much as she could. She was able to get her left hand over to Xin's hair and she started to pull.

Xin turned her head to ease the pressure, but she kept up her lewd poking and rubbing of Zhao's mound.

Then Zhao felt Xin's finger go even further. Xin worked one sharp-nailed index finger beneath the crotch of the panties, and Zhao felt the digit slide along her hairy vulva. Then, to her horror, the finger found her clit!

She couldn't help herself. Pinned like this, her own hands ineffectual, she found that Xin's hand was getting a response. She felt her pussy moisten, the labial lips start to swell and soften. The sheath of her clitoris started to lengthen under Xin's expert handiwork.

She took a deep breath and screamed, "Oh, you fucking dyke! You goddamn lesbo CUNT! What the HELL do you THINK you're DOING?!"

Xin turned her head to Zhao, Zhao's hand still embedded in the fine e hair. She smiled an evil smile. "Don't come off so high and prissy, you stupid bitch. I know what the fuck you are. You're starting to gush like a whore, cunt. You're not so god damned innocent. Right?"

Xin's twisted grin penetrated to Zhao's gut. Oh, god, how could she know?

It came back like a flood of sensation. When she was twenty, Zhao had lived in Hong Kong She had dropped out of work, and for a while, out of rebellion and boredom, she got caught up in the free lifestyle of the streetwoman. And she did things she had never done before...until now.

A lesbian introduced her to the deviant subculture of girl/girl fetishes. Under the influence of beer and marijuana, Zhao had discovered the unique carnal sensations afforded in the catfight and sexfight. Under the mercurial ministrations of dark-haired LiWang, she had fought and scratched and made rough sapphic love, grinding her young cunt into the hairy turgid pussy of the older woman.

But that had ended. She went back to Singapore, her rebellion ended, and had met her husband to be. After that was the easy and placid life of a Singaporean young housewife, who had ceased to think about the libidinous erotic warfare of another time and place.

Until now.

Xin continued her rough fingering of Zhao's pussy. Zhao started to vocalize as the twisting fingers probed her sex. She was, despite herself, becoming aroused.

"Uh...ohh...bitch....fucking bitch!"

Xin moved her face close Zhao's. She stared intently down at Zhao's wide eyes, which started to swim a bit. She said, in low tones, "Got a proposition for you, Mistress Zhao...quite contrary. Got a dirty little deal for you."

Zhao grunted, tried ineffectually to move Xin off of her. She was starting to move her hips involuntarily, her body betraying itself.

"W-what are y-you talking about... ," she stuttered.

"You know what's going on here," Xin husked. "Do it with me...sexfight...my cunt against yours. First to come loses. If I lose, I'll write you a check for Singapore1000.00."

The mention of the money penetrated the haze that the aggressive finger-fucking induced. She stared at Xin. "And if I l-l-lose..."

"Then you will answer to me. You'll be my pet and my slave, three mornings a week for the next month. And, oh, the things you will do for me..."

"Sick perverted cunt! Fuck you!"

Xin quickly leaned her face in and kissed Zhao, a bruising painful rub. She nipped the lips a bit with her teeth as Zhao pulled her face away.

"Is that a no?" Xin leaned her arm down across Zhao's chest, and pulled the crotch of her panties down. She stuck two fingers up Zhao's wet vagina."

Zhao took all of two seconds. "No, goddamn you! I'll do it. But you'll fucking well write the check first?"

Xin looked down, stuck the fingers up to the root and held them there. Zhao gasped.

Xin slowly pulled the slick fingers out of Zhao's cunt. She sniffed them, then licked them.

"Okay. Get back into the bedroom and strip. I'll make out the check." She held the fingers coated with Zhao's secretions under Zhao's nose for a second. Then she placed both her hands on Zhao's breasts and pushed herself upwards. Zhao grunted from the sudden flattening of her breasts.

Zhao got to her feet, tottering a bit on the high heels. She saw Xin disappear into another room off the living room. She unsteadily walked back to the foyer, got her heavy bag, and proceeded down the dim hallway to the master bedroom. Inside she put the bag down by the door. She kicked off her high heels, then slowly, methodically, began to undress.

She took off her jacket. Why am I doing this?

She pulled her blouse up from her skirt, and began to unbutton it. For the money!

She finished unbuttoning the blouse and pulled it off, dropping it on the floor. But what if I lose? I could easily lose, despite the tricks I learned from that street girl.

The skirt was next. She undid the catch, then pushed it down past her hips to drop in a shapeless heap about her stocking feet. Oh, God! 1000! That would feed us for more than a month!

She reached behind her and unhooked her plain white bra. She slipped the shoulder straps down and pulled it away from her chest. Her medium size breasts bounced a bit as they were freed, the brown nipples hardening in the sudden coolness. Oh, Christ, I want this to happen! I want to beat her. I want to make her pay! I'll fuck her up!

She unhooked the snaps from her stockings, then peeled them down her legs. She pushed the garter belt down just as Xin came back into the room. She was holding a check printed on green paper.

Xin looked at Zhao, naked except for the plain white cotton briefs. Her eyes glittered at the thought of the sexfight to occur.

"Oh, don't you just look luscious, darling! We're going to have a party, aren't we, sweetie?"

Zhao decided it would be best to appear submissive and downcast. Get her to underestimate me, she thought.

"Whatever you say..."

Xin said, "Oh, don't look so bedraggled, my poor little slave. I won't hurt you...much."

Xin hummed to herself as she undid the zipper at the back of her dress and pulled the long sleeves off. After the dress came off her top, she let it rest on her hips while she undid the bra that encased her large breasts. They bounced down a bit, and the large brownish nipples stiffened. They were surrounded by two-inch areolae, a bulls-eye in a fleshy globe.

Zhao watched while Xin pushed her dress down past her hips to puddle about her feet. Xin then slipped off her high-heels and unsnapped her stockings. They were expertly rolled down and now Xin was dressed in panties only, just as Zhao was.

Each woman kept a steady gaze on the other as they deliberately pushed their panties down their legs and then stood up before each, egg-naked.

Zhao's bush was soft and light brown and untrimmed. It was thick, but the lips were visible because Xin's earlier finger-fucking had spread them apart.

Xin's pubic thatch was a rough V shaped patch, clipped short to reveal the plump labia and the moist cleft. She had a large clitoris, the shaft easily two inches long, with a pink head that stuck out a quarter-inch.

The two women regarded each for other for perhaps a minute. Zhao was estimating her opponent. Xin had twenty pounds on her, but she was a couple of inches taller than the wealthy vixen. It would be a question of weight versus leverage.

The bedroom had a large queen-size bed with a dark maple headboard. The room was fairly large, with ample light coming in through a large window in the wall opposite the door. Matching maple dressers and nightstands completed the furnishings. A door on Zhao's left led the bathroom.

Zhao caught a glimpse of her naked body in the mirror over the dresser. She saw an unguarded woman with a stone face, crouching slightly, and waiting for an opportunity. She saw that Xin was on the balls of her feet, breasts swaying as she moved slightly.

Zhao felt an anticipatory buzz. She recognized the feeling from her past battles with the dark-haired lesbian street woman, the knowledge that she would soon pit her body and skills against another woman, to beat her physically and sexually.

Xin took a step closer. Zhao matched her. Their arms stretched out, fingers moving in clawing motions.

With a sharp cry, Zhao leapt forward. Her hands found purchase on Xin's upper arms. Xin was taken by surprise. She stumbled backwards, and her legs hit the foot of her bed. Zhao pressed the advantage, pushing forward with her strong legs.

Xin found herself with her back on the plain thin bedspread, and Zhao leaned forward. Xin pushed back with her arms. Zhao suddenly lifted her knee, pushing it in-between Xin's legs.

The knee hit Xin's crotch squarely, smacking the labial tissue and catching the sensitive clitoris. Xin screamed. She grabbed Zhao's forearms and twisted to the left. Yelping, Zhao found herself beside Xin on the bed, both women facing each other on their side.

Zhao pushed herself further back on the bed, hands still digging into Xin's arms. Xin followed and both women were solidly on the bed now, the covers wrinkled from the chaotic movement.

Zhao tried to use the leverage of her longer arms and legs to swing over on top of Xin. Xin, still stinging from the impact of Zhao's knee to her pussy, groaned and pushed strongly with her arms.

They remained at impasse for nearly thirty seconds, Zhao trying to raise herself over Xin, and Xin pushing back. Their eyes were wide and they panted with effort. Sweat broke out on both of their faces. They made whimpering sounds as their exertion continued.

Zhao's legs had spread apart with her movements, and Xin saw an opportunity. She raised her left thigh sharply.

"Ooooffff!" Zhao cried, as the meaty flesh of Xin's thigh slammed into her crotch. But instead of Xin pulling back and hitting it again, she started to move her leg up and down. The smooth skin rubbed along Zhao's pussy, and she felt the beginnings of arousal.  The bodily memory of Xin's earlier finger assault came back, and her traitorous genitals responded. In no time at all, moisture started to seep from her slit and lubricate the muscular flesh of Xin's leg. Zhao felt the labia swell and her clitoris lengthen.

"I'll win it any way I can, Mistress Zhao," Xin breathed. "I'll fuck you up or I'll fuck you down, but I'll fuck you for sure."

Zhao said, "No fucking way!" and released Xin's arms. She flung herself back.

Xin triumphantly cackled. "Oh, I've got you now. You are such a hot slut that you'll come from a harsh look, won't you? You want this, you sad little bitch. You want me to win, because you know I'm your better!"

Xin sat up quickly launched herself on top of Zhao, who was on her back, trying to raise herself up on one arm. The older woman's voluptuous body crashed on Zhao's, and Zhao found her head hanging off the foot of the bed as Xin quickly positioned herself.

Xin went for much the same position she had in the living room. She held her left arm across Zhao's chest, hand splayed across Zhao's right breast. Her right leg kept Zhao's legs spread apart, and she vigorously started to finger-fuck Zhao's vagina with her right hand.

Zhao felt helpless under the greater weight of her opponent. She tried to lift her upper body, raising her head. Xin crooned in her ear, "...oh, it won't be long now, sweetie...I've got my fingers up your cunt, and, ohhhh, it's sooo wet and hot....oh what do we have here? ...it's Mistress Zhao's little clit...how do you like =this=...and =this=...just relax and let it happen...oh you are such a hot slutty cunt..."

Xin twisted her two fingers in and out of Zhao's vagina, which was pumping a copious stream of sexual fluids, slick and hot, around Xin's expert fingers. Xin worked the digits around and up, pressing on the anterior wall of the vaginal interior.

"Ohh....Ah...JESUS!...UHHGGHH!" Zhao panted, her hips now swiveling with the violent fingering.

Tears escaped Zhao's closed eyes. Her body was betraying her. Her cunt had a mind of its own, knowing only the rough raw ecstatic beat of oncoming orgasm. Zhao saw herself, knew she was close...knew it was going to happen....

"No...NO!" she shouted. "I won't fucking lose to you, you goddamn bitch!"

Ignoring the mounting climax in her lower body, she grabbed Xin's fine hair with her right fist. She dug her fingers in and yanked her head back as Zhao brought her own head quickly forward. Zhao's forehead crashed into Xin's chin. Xin had had her mouth slightly apart and her wet tongue extended. The impact caused her mouth to snap shut and her teeth to clamp painfully down on her tongue.

"Owwww!" she yelled, and a spurt of blood escaped her mouth and the ragged laceration she had just bitten into her tongue. She forgot all about Zhao for a second.

Much to her forthcoming sorrow.

Zhao worked an arm under Xin's neck and pushed. She also scooted backwards, propelled by her feet on the bed. She held onto Zhao's hair with her hand as she fell onto the floor. Xin had no choice but to go along with her or lose a handful of hair.

With a shot of adrenaline, she pulled Xin down onto the floor and flung her on her back. Zhao grabbed Xin's ankles and spread them apart like splitting a wishbone on a chicken. Xin's legs were opened wide, her pussy lips opening like a door to reveal a pink dark hole and a shiny pearl.

Xin had been stunned by the sudden turn of events. Her impact on the floor had knocked the breath out of her, and she was powerless to do anything. Her tongue ached and she tasted the salty heat of her own blood.


She jumped forward and landed on top of Xin. Xin's breasts mushroomed out as Zhao's firmer globes flattened them. Zhao's stiff little nipples poked the tender breast flesh. But it was what Zhao did with her legs that really counted. Something that she had learned from the lusty catfighting lesbian in Hong Kong.

She hooked her legs around Xin's and had her locked in a grapevine pin. The hold was perfect. Zhao fixed her lower legs and ankles around Xin's and pressed down. Xin could not break the hold...any attempt to do so caused acute pain in the legs.

Zhao started to fuck Xin. She pushed her hips forward, buttocks contracting with effort. Zhao's hairy swollen pussy hit Xin's. Xin's labia spread apart, and the long stiff shaft of her clitoris came into direct contact with Zhao's clit.

The direct clit-to-clit contact had its affect on both women. Xin twisted her head back and yelled in rage and frustration...and sexual heat. She found her pussy instantly wet and throbbing.

Zhao fought her own battle with her sensations. I will do this, she thought. I will fuck her and she will come first...I will beat this bitch...I will win!

Zhao started a slow deliberate fucking. The hips would rise and descend, and her cunt would hit Xin's, and she would feel the rough trimmed hairs of Xin's pussy tangle with her own lush growth. She would feel the hot swollen tissue rub together as she ground her cunt into Xin's sex. She would feel her stiff clitoris slid along Xin's, the heads bumping together and sending sparks of wanton lust along her torso.

All along, she kept the grapevine pin, and Xin was helpless to do anything. Zhao looked down, saw Xin's eyes starting to glaze over with the oncoming orgasm. A trickle of blood from the damaged tongue ran from one corner of her mouth.

Zhao move her face down, the lips coming close to Xin's. She increased the tempo of her hips and said quietly, "Oh, I'm going to kiss you now, you wealthy bitch...I'm going to kiss you and stick my tongue in your mouth while you come..."

Xin felt Zhao's mouth plaster onto hers and Zhao's hot stabbing tongue invade her mouth. This was the final assault. Zhao slammed her hips down and held them there, swiveling the pelvis and abrading her cunt. The clits found each other and tangled, and Zhao tasted Xin's blood.

Xin screamed into Zhao's open mouth as the orgasm took her. Xin's arms found themselves embracing Zhao. Her cunt spilled a stream of fluid as shocks and explosions rippled through her.

Zhao lifted her head to look in Xin's wild eyes as she came. She saw the wild lust and the sudden pain in Xin's eyes as her turncoat body released itself in wanton animalistic climax. Xin's hips bucked upwards from the floor as the orgasm shook her, and her cries of lust became cries of humiliation.

Zhao looked down. One more thing to do. She sat up quickly, straddling Xin's shaking body. Her large bag was just within arm's reach. She took it and reached in and pulled out the heavy instrument.

A few deft motions were all it took. She positioned the device so it would only hit what it was aimed at.

Zhao then moved her hips forward, walking on her knees until her cunt rested against Xin's chin.

"Lick me, you bitch! Eat me until I come." To emphasize her words, she reached down with her left hand, and twisted an ear.

"OWWW!...oh, GOD....OH!"

Xin knew she was whipped. With her eyes still closed and leaking tears, she moved her face a bit forward, and started to energetically lick Zhao's pussy.

Zhao through her head back and whooped with delight. As Xin ate her out, she adjusted the position of the instrument in her right hand.

It was close. Zhao wanted to trigger the device when she came. She slid her hips back and forth, smearing her wet cunt over Xin's chin and lips.


"Now! Stick you're tongue up my cunt!"

Xin did so, extending the pink tongue out and up. Zhao felt it penetrate her vagina. She howled.


As the orgasm hit Zhao, she triggered the switch on the Polaroid. There was a flash and the camera captured Xin's face with her tongue diligently servicing Zhao.

Zhao laid the camera on the floor and let the sheer libidinous pleasure of the climax wash over her. She sat on Xin's face, releasing a deluge of climactic juices into the blonde's mouth. Her hips shook with release and she yipped with sheer delight.

Her orgasm complete, Zhao moved her hips dreamily, smearing the slick fluids onto Xin's face. She then looked down at her defeated foe. "Bitch," she said.

She got up. Xin rolled on her side and hid her face in her hands. She looked pathetic, Zhao thought.

It had been the right amount of time. Zhao picked up the camera and pulled the tab. The exposed film was pulled out. She waited the full minute, looking down at Xin. She then peeled apart the picture. She tossed the negative on the floor. She looked at the positive. She grinned.

She stooped down on the carpet beside Xin. She took Xin's shoulder and pulled her onto her back. Xin brought her hands down from her face, revealing tear streaks and ruined mascara.

Zhao waved the picture in front of Xin's face. Xin saw the evidence of her humiliation, in the small black and white picture. There was her face, her tongue up Zhao's vagina. Quite recognizable.

Zhao said, "Just so we understand each other. I take this, and the check. I ever hear anything about this again, from anywhere, copies of this will go where they'll do the most good. Like your husband's partners. You'll be ruined. Get me?"

Xin nodded. She then turned her head away again.

Zhao found her clothes and quickly got dressed. In a few minutes, she was ready to go.

She left Xin Hui in her bedroom, naked, humbled, and bruised.

As she drove away, Zhao decided to quit selling Avon. Everything after this would be anti-climatic.