Who wins the catfight?
Catfight at the Karen Corral
Carrie was walking down the back alley shortcut to her statistics when the attack came. First, an empty trash can almost knocking her out. Then long nails clawing at her and angry fists pulling her hair.
"He's mine, bitch!" Karen screeched, slapping her. Realizing the threat now, Carrie responded with a kick to Karen's solar plexus, abating the assault.
"I didn't see a ring bitch," Carrie said, bitch slapping her frenemy. The fight continued, both of them bloody, until Carrie got Karen into a chokehold. Karen weakly slapped at the concrete.
"You give up, bitch?" Carrie asked. Karen nodded shakily. Carrie relented, then repositioned herself, her ass over Karen's mouth. She tugged her yoga pants down to reveal her pert ass.
"He's my man now. Kiss my ass if you agree; otherwise I will choke the life out of you." She felt a hesitant kiss on her ass. Victory.
"I'll share him with you if you eat my ass."
"He ... he was going to be my boyfriend, Carrie," Karen responded weakly. Carrie laughed harshly.
"Not anymore, bitch. I got a boyfriend for you though, you'll like him. He's a huge pussy that you can cheat on. Chop chop, bitch." She felt her frenemy's long tongue snake against her asshole and relaxed. Total victory.
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