Tangled

Rachel Walsh stomped into her apartment, her feet aching from the 6" heels on them, sheer black nylons clinging uncomfortably to her lovely legs in the sweltering heat of July. It had been another frustrating day at work, sitting crammed together in a tiny office with the other intern, Sarah White, the two young women shooting each other dirty looks across their desks as the lack of air conditioning in the office and the tension between the two combined to make the air in the room practically combustible. In the forced silence of the room, Rachel swore she could hear the rasp of Sarah's nylons every time she crossed or uncrossed her long legs, at which point the brunette would make a point to prominently cross or uncross her own legs underneath her tight black skirt. The two would glare at each other openly across the room, silently daring the other to say something.

Rachel and Sarah had been sniping at each other for the better part of two months, now, their comments getting progressively more overt and nastier, until neither could trust themselves to speak to the other in the relative privacy of their little corner. It had started with the two making eyes at the same guy at an after hours office get-together, who was rumored to be a "leg man," and could be observed sneaking covert glimpses of the shapelier legs in the office on a regular basis. The two women had since dropped the idea of pursuing him, but the sense of rivalry between them that had originated from that had only grown.

Rachel had a feeling that she was a little more conceited about her looks than the average woman. The dark haired brunette worked out religiously and had a long, athletic build that was almost Amazonian. Rachel wore her hair straight and long; her locks framed a pretty face with features that were a little more square and severe than most women's, but which in a strange coincidence, matched the general shape of Sarah's icy blonde features. She had a pair of pert breasts that were not overly large, but allowed her to show off an inviting glimpse of cleavage when she wanted to; a strong, supple back and outrageously shapely legs that she loved to show off in short skirts and nylons. It was their legs that the women's arguments kept coming back to, at least before they had cut off all verbal communication a few days ago.

"That skirt was a nice choice, Rachel, you really need one that short to make your legs look good," Sarah sneered at her from her desk.

"You're one to talk, Sarah, you're practically flashing me every time you uncross your legs," Rachel shot back.

"Spend a lot of time looking at that general region, don't you?"

"You'd like to think so, girl."

It was hard getting any work done with the constant bickering between them, but truth be told, they two interns weren't really expected to get much real work accomplished, anyway. More interestingly, Rachel found herself getting excited arguing with Sarah. Her blood had really started to pound a few days ago, during one of their last conversations before they had stopped speaking.

"I knew a girl like you in high school," Sarah remarked, her square-cut nails clicking on her keyboard. "Tall, dark-haired bitch with a big mouth, a real Amazon. We hated each other."

"Yeah?" Rachel snorted. "I can't tell you the number of big blonde sluts I've known."

"You ever fought any of them?" Sarah asked. As opposed to most of their bitchy sniping, the question came out surprisingly intense.

Rachel fought hard not to swallow. "One," she said.

"Did it get nasty?"

"Did yours?" Rachel asked hotly.

The blonde didn't answer, instead she stared silently at Rachel, who returned the glare, both women suddenly breathing hard. The rest of the day had passed in silence.

At home now, after another tense day anticipating she didn't quite know what, Rachel logged into her e-mail account and noticed a message from an unknown sender, addressed from better_than_yours@hotmail.com. The message contained a single picture, shot from what looked like a low quality web cam, of a pair of very familiar-looking nylon clad legs. Rachel had seen her rival's legs practically every day for the last two months, but obviously had never had she had a chance to really stare at them, until now. The picture started just above the hemline of a hot pink skirt. White thigh-highs left a smooth expanse of sleek, tanned thighs visible above lace, crossed over one another. Rachel traced the perfect lines of the legs from thigh to toe, which was pointed downward at the floor and encased in a spike heel with a long, sharp toe, exaggerating even more the length of the leg. The brunette's nostrils flared; this was not a challenge that could go unanswered, not if she wanted to be able to look Sarah in the eye at work.

Ten minutes later, Rachel had a new e-mail account named mine_are_hotter@hotmail.com, and was ready in a pair of seamed black stockings and a short red skirt that she hiked up even further on her thighs. It took a few tries, but she eventually snapped a picture she was happy with. She was bent over slightly, with her back to the web cam, her long legs dominating the photo in their seamed stockings, standing perfectly straight and rising out of her 6" leather stilettos. Her eyes flicked back and forth between her picture and the one Sarah had sent, imagining them superimposed on one another, white stockings on black. "Mine ARE hotter," she growled softly, clicking the "Send" button firmly.

Rachel wore the same stockings to work the next day, although she paired them with a different skirt with the lower hemline that covered the lace tops of her stockings, if just barely. As she slid her long legs into them, she felt acutely aware of every muscle. She flexed her thighs inside the nylon, proud of the latent strength contained in the sleek muscle. She would put her legs up against any woman's, she thought arrogantly, and Sarah White was certainly no exception.

She got to work before her blonde officemate, seating herself at her desk and tugging the hem of her skirt down over her thighs. The men in the office usually stopped by early in the morning to ogle the two before forgetting about them for the rest of the day, and although she usually enjoyed the attention, she didn't feel like dealing with it today.

A few minutes past eight, Sarah finally arrived at work. She stood in the doorway for a few moments, waiting for Rachel to look up from her monitor. The women exchanged glares, Rachel realizing that Sarah seemed to wearing the same stockings she had sported in the picture she had sent to her rival, as well. The two young women openly studied each other's legs for the first time, Sarah's pair slightly spread on top of her towering heels in the doorway, Rachel's crossed seductively underneath her desk. Impulsively, Rachel tugged the hem of her skirt higher on her right leg, flashing Sarah a glimpse of black lace and bare thigh.

"Better than YOURS," Rachel snarled softly, her voice pitched to barely carry to the doorway.

Not to be outdone, Sarah hiked up her dark blue skirt, revealing white lace and a tantalizing glimpse of her smooth thigh. "HOTTER than yours," Sarah hissed back intensely.

The two women glared at each other hotly, their jaws set, teeth gritted behind their fresh lipstick. Finally, Sarah stalked over to her desk, crossing her legs almost angrily, right over left.

After a few moments of silence, with both girls seething and the only sound in the room the quick staccato beat of keyboard keys, Rachel finally said, "You must have mistyped the address when you sent your e-mail, bitch, because there's no WAY those are better than mine."

"Yeah? Well, I wasn't impressed by your amateur photo, either, bitch," Sarah snapped back. "If you think yours are hotter, you're even more out of touch with reality than I thought."

"Did you send your high school girlfriend slutty pictures of your legs, too?" Rachel asked scornfully.

"Yeah, she thought she was hot shit, too, just like you."

"Well, if she was just like me, she must have beat your blonde ass."

"I beat HER," Sarah growled. "BAD."

Rachel opened her mouth to answer, but the look on the other woman's face took her aback slightly. It was almost savage in its intensity and earnestness, Sarah's bright blue eyes wide and accentuated by her dark eyeliner, nostrils flared. The brunette quickly recovered from her momentary surprise, however, and felt herself responding to the emotion of the other woman, her blood pounding in her veins, body temperature climbing uncomfortably in the cramped office they shared.

"What about you and your blonde slut?" Sarah asked. "I suppose you're going to tell me she looked just like me, and you kicked her butt, too?"

"Not quite like you," Rachel rasped. "But I DID beat her."

"Yeah? Tell me how," the blonde demanded.

Rachel's eyes darted over to the doorway. "Fuck you," she said.

"Lying cunt," the blonde sneered.

"Just try me, bitch," Rachel snapped. The two women stared angrily at each other across their desks. "Because I would love to put you in your place."

The blonde snorted, but didn't answer. After holding each other's stares for another several seconds to make sure the other woman knew she wasn't intimidated, both women returned to their work with elevated heartbeats and rising anticipation.

As the day wore on, Rachel and Sarah put on a subtle display of their legs for each other. The unusually modest skirts they wore to work today slowly climbed up their thighs as they wiggled in their seats, the lace bands of their stockings coming into view on their crossed legs. Rachel dangled her right shoe off her toes as her mouth sucked on a piece of hard candy, her cheeks slightly sunk on her attractive, but angular face. From behind her desk, Sarah's lips were pursed in an affected pout, glossy with wet lipstick, as she traced the curve of her left calf with the toe of her pump.

Rachel could feel her breath shaking as the women brazenly displayed their legs for each other underneath their desks, their eyes playing a game of tag with one another, giving each other's nyloned legs angry glares, darting from their computer screens to stare wide-eyed at each other's remarkably similar features, chins tilted in arrogant poses. With Sarah's blue eyes glancing frequently beneath her desk as Rachel slid her long, lovely legs together in her black nylons, the brunette almost felt as if she were masturbating for the statuesque blonde. Watching her rival squeeze her toned thighs together again and again, just the barest glimpse of naked thigh visible above white lace, Rachel sucked harder on the candy in her mouth until she felt it dissolve entirely. In a twisted way, the two rivals were flirting with each other, Rachel realized.

The brunette could feel Sarah's eyes on her as she got up to use the restroom, lifting her skirt briefly as she passed the blonde's desk to flash her the back of her thigh. When she got back to her desk, there was an IM window open.

better_than_yours: I saw cellulite, bitch.

Rachel looked up angrily to see Sarah's smug face smiling at her.

mine_are_hotter: All muscle, slut... unlike yours.

mine_are_hotter: Thanks for checking me out, though.

The sound of keys being struck sharply in rapid succession filled the room.

better_than_yours: Please, like you haven't been checking me out every chance you get.

mine_are_hotter: Yeah, I have been... and I'm not impressed.

better_than_yours: You should be. You should be terrified, in fact.

mine_are_hotter: Blonde skanks with long legs don't scare me. If you hadn't noticed, mine are just as long, and considerably stronger.

better_than_yours: Prove it, bitch.

The two women turned their heads from their computer screens in unison to give each other a hard stare.

better_than_yours: Come back after work, 7 p.m. We'll have the office to ourselves.

mine_are_hotter: My legs against yours, bitch?

better_than_yours: Until one pair can't take anymore, cunt.

Rachel's heart beat in her chest like a jackhammer as she squeezed her thighs together, a distinctly sexual sensation radiating from between her legs. She could hear the rasp of nylon from across the room as Sarah's white-stockinged thighs rubbed together, as well. 7 p.m. couldn't come fast enough.

Throughout the rest of the day, the women would leave to go to the bathroom together, and if they found themselves alone, they would clinch together briefly, pushing their legs into one another and grabbing at the other's ass through their skirts. During their final trip, Sarah gave Rachel a sharp slap which almost set off a full-fledged catfight, before the girls heard another woman entering the bathroom.

Rachel sat alone at the bar in a restaurant a few blocks from the office, the sullen glare on her face discouraging any potential suitors from approaching. Her stomach felt far too unsettled to eat anything, filled with butterflies. She had downed a few drinks, however, to help steel her nerves, and they sat pleasantly warm inside of her. Was she crazy to be doing this, she suddenly wondered? The two of them were still going to be stuck together inside that room for another month, at least. She couldn't imagine having to see Sarah's face gloating at her from across their desks every day for the next month. How sweet it would be, though, to force that blonde bitch to look at her legs every day knowing that they were better than her own.

By this time of the day, the lights had been switched off in their building. It was still light outside, however, enough to enable Rachel to find her way across the floor to the office she shared with Sarah. Their office was tucked away down a long corridor, away from any windows, so by the time she reached the door, it was almost pitch black. Still slightly buzzed, Rachel turned the handle on the door and pushed it open slowly.

Sarah had pushed their desks together in the center of the tiny room, leaving only about four feet of separation between their front edges, approximately enough room for two pairs of legs to fit. The overhead fluorescent lights were switched off, the only light present coming from the small desk lamp on the blonde's table, whose metal stem had been bent so that the light shone directly on Sarah's pair of nyloned legs. The blonde's long limbs sat crossed right over left, dangling in the space between their desks, the toe of Sarah's right shoe pointing down at the floor. The rest of her body was masked in relative darkness, but Rachel could see that she was sitting up straight on the edge of her desk, and hadn't turned at the sound of the door swinging open.

Rachel closed the door with a soft click, and approached her desk. Its surface had been completely cleared, as had Sarah's desk. She switched on her own desk lamp, adjusting its light to shine on the space between their desks, and wordlessly took up the position opposite Sarah, crossing her legs aggressively, her nylons brushing up against the blonde's with a soft whisper. Their knees touched briefly, before both women drew back slightly.

"Your legs are shaking, bitch," Sarah finally said to break the silence.

Rachel glanced down at her legs, and silently cursed when she saw that indeed, they WERE shaking, albeit almost imperceptibly. She was relieved to find a similar tremor apparently also affecting Sarah's legs, however, as they hung centimeters away from her own.

"So are yours, cunt," Rachel stated flatly.

Another moment of silence, before Sarah asked, "Have you ever fought with your legs with another girl before?"

Rachel swallowed dryly, and hoped the sound wasn't audible to the woman sitting across from her. "Yes," she said, "at cheerleading camp," flashing back to high school, and a summer camp she had attended with her friends. Even back then, she had been one of the tallest girls in the camp, and in a setting where legs were prominently on display, her pair were among the best. She remembered being egged on by a few of her friends to leg wrestle a tall, blonde exchange student from Sweden. She had barely been able to hear the high-pitched screaming of their friends through the pounding blood in her ears, as she sat on the cold cement floor of her cabin scissor-locked with the other girl, her nails gripping the blonde's bare foot in her hand as she squeezed. She had been wearing white cotton panties like the other girl, and from her position she had a clear view of her opponent's crotch underneath her cheerleading skirt. Even now, she remembered being terrified of the other girl spying a damp spot on her panties, betraying a sexual arousal that had taken her completely off guard in its intensity.

She felt the same feeling building inside her now, as she pressed the top of her right foot against the back of Sarah's left calf, running it down the smooth muscle, all the way to the back of the blonde's ankle. With a surgeon's skill, she dug the toe of her shoe into the back of Sarah's pump and pressed down, until it slid off the blonde's foot to dangle off her toes.

"Cunt," Sarah breathed. Rachel fought to keep her leg still as the blonde explored the back of her calf in a similar manner, the long stiletto of her shoe dislodging Rachel's left heel. It fell to the floor with a soft thud.

"What about you, bitch?" Rachel demanded, her voice pitched low to hide the tremor in it. "Did you and your dark-haired amazon fight with your legs?"

In the pool of light from their two desk lamps, Rachel saw her rival kick off her dangling shoe. "We did," the blonde said. Her nyloned toes gripped the long, thin spike of Rachel's remaining shoe, pulling it off and to the floor. "We fought until our nylons were torn, ruined, and then we fought some more."

Rachel maneuvered her right foot underneath her rival's shoe, lifting it up until her sole was lined up with the bottom of the blonde's shoe. It didn't surprise her that they were the exact same size. Moments later, Sarah's remaining shoe fell to the floor, and the women were left only in their stockinged feet.

Sarah uncrossed her legs suddenly, and hiked up her skirt all the way to her hips, her bare thighs glowing in the lamplight above white lace. Rachel followed suit, her skirt actually tearing audibly in her haste. The brunette reached for her rival's legs, tangling them together in the narrow space in between their desks. The two young women hissed as their nylons slithered together, feet curling around each other, soles wrestling roughly, sending shivers of sensation up both women's legs. Rachel couldn't stop herself from gasping in between her gritted teeth as their legs tangled violently together. After hours of staring at the blonde's shapely legs today, to actually feel them between her own, their muscles pressed together hotly underneath nylon and lace, was unbelievable. The naked aggression and hostility of the contact only boosted her arousal, which she fought desperately to control.

"I've wanted to fight you ever since I saw you in those tacky fishnets you wore that first week," Rachel heard herself growling.

"Yeah?" Sarah grunted. "Well, I've been ready for you ever since our legs got tangled up that night at the bar," the blonde hissed, referring to an incident Rachel thought the other girl had just brushed off as an accident. They had been giving each other sullen glares all night as they sat across a narrow counter from each other, perched on these improbably tall stools, when the brunette's stiletto had slipped on the rung of her stool. She had fallen backward, her legs stretching out in front of her, before they locked onto Sarah's, gripping them tightly to regain her balance. She still remembered the other girl's muscles tightening with shock and squeezing around her own, before pulling quickly away after she had righted herself on her stool.

Rachel scooted forward on her desk, pushing her legs further into her rival's to allow their thighs to grip one another more fully. The lace bands of their stockings pressed together as the women crushed the other's thigh in between her own, sleek muscle rippling underneath nylon, forcing a long, guttural groan from each intern.

"You're strong, bitch," Sarah admitted, grunting as the girls squeezed one another. "But how long can you keep it up?"

Rachel growled as she gave her rival's leg a twist between her own, forcing another hiss from Sarah. She had been wondering the same thing, actually, but that only served to make her angrier. It had been less than ten minutes since the girls had started fighting, but already Rachel could feel perspiration starting to form on her forehead and her leg muscles were burning, although they still felt strong, thankfully.

"I'll be going strong well after your legs are begging for mercy, slut," Rachel promised her rival.

"How did it end?" Sarah asked through gritted teeth. "Your pompom fight."

"She screamed for me to stop squeezing," Rachel growled, remembering the fight all over again.

Sarah grunted. "Did you?"

"Not at first," Rachel admitted, surprising herself. It felt strange confessing this to a woman she hated and with whom she was currently locked in a strange, erotic combat with, but she felt unable to lie about this to her. "I don't remember hearing her. Our friends had to pull us apart."

"There won't be anyone to pull us apart tonight," Sarah hissed, her fingers gripping the edge of her desk, her red nail polish barely catching the light.

"How did your nylon ripping fight end, whore?" Rachel demanded, in part to distract herself from the pain radiating from her trapped thigh.

"On the floor," Sarah said simply. The blonde grunted, glaring at Rachel through her golden bangs. "She left with bare legs, and transferred the next quarter."

After another ten minutes of torturous squeezing, the girls suddenly relaxed their legs as if acknowledging that the first phase of their contest had been a draw. They rubbed their legs in between one another's almost gently, as if massaging them and getting them ready for their next battle.

Sarah suddenly pulled her legs up from between their desks, and sat on her behind with her stockinged legs stretched out in front of her in the air. Her long blonde hair fanned out from her head onto her desk as she arched her back, staring up at the ceiling. Instinctively knowing what her blonde rival had in mind, Rachel lay back on her desk, as well, stretching her black nylons out until the soles of her stockings met Sarah's. They slid their stockinged feet together for several minutes, pushing back and forth with their legs. First, Rachel's leg would get forced back until her knee almost pressed up against her thigh was crushed against her breast, and then it would be Sarah's turn to gasp as her leg was crushed into her ribcage. If anyone had been watching, it would have looked like the two statuesque women were bicycling against each other in slow motion, their perfect legs part of a piston that was constantly on the verge of exploding with tension.

Rachel hissed as her feet unexpectedly slipped against Sarah's, the blonde's nylon clad foot smashing against her face and knocking the back of her head against her desk. "Cunt!" she swore, bringing her own foot down on top of the other girl's face, and holding it pressed against the blonde's cheek, keeping her head down on the desk. She could hear the sound of nylon ripping as Sarah clawed against the top of her foot with her nails, finally working her thumbs underneath the brunette's foot enough to throw her leg back up in the air. The two rivals' right legs tangled high above their desks, calves smashing into one another solidly several times, before they locked their legs at the back of the knee. Rachel gripped the edge of her desk, her neck muscles taut with effort, and the two young women growled savagely, their long limbs pulling in opposite directions.

So intense and violent was the struggle between their legs that their desks started to slide fitfully together, bouncing up and down noisily on the floor. The brunette's supple back was twisted to the left, her right shoulder lifted off her desk, as she strained against Sarah's white-stockinged limb. Rachel could feel the heat radiating from the back of the blonde's thigh as it pressed up against hers, muscle stretched tight and throbbing, and then her right hand was clawing at the inside of the blonde's thigh, her nails ripping down on white nylon, her thumbnail gouging at her rival's bare thigh. The tall blonde cried out in surprise, her leg stiffening as a spasm of unexpected pain lanced through it, and lost the tug-of-war between their legs. The blonde's limb was jerked violently to the right, and slammed viciously onto the surface of her desk, her entire body flipping over so that she ended up face down on the table.

"Cheating bitch!" Sarah cried out, attempting to push herself up off the desk. Rachel was already on her, however, her right hand tangling itself around her rival's long, blonde locks, wrapping them around the outside of her hand, as she pounced on the blonde's back.

"Like there are any rules, slut!" Rachel hissed heatedly in her rival's ear, giving Sarah a hard tug on her hair, pulling her neck back savagely. She lay stretched out along the tall blonde's backside from head to toe, her long legs in their black nylons wrapped around Sarah's white stockings, her ankles locked around the blonde's, struggling to control her rival's thrashing limbs on the wooden surface. The friction between their nylons was maddening, the sounds of their leggy struggle filling the tiny room, along with the almost sexual grunts of both girls. Rachel felt her legs being forced apart as the blonde beneath her tried to buck her off, her skirt riding far enough up her hips that her red thong showed. The blonde was thrusting back into Rachel with her tight behind now, her nearly naked ass cheeks slamming into the front of the dark-haired girl's crotch. For the first time, Rachel realized how wet she was, and just how much fighting with the leggy blonde underneath her was arousing her. She groaned as Sarah ground her right butt cheek back into her thong, wanting desperately to sink her claws into blonde's round, thrusting ass muscles.

Sarah's gluteal thrusting must have distracted her more than she realized, because the blonde had managed to twist herself around on the desk to come face to face with Rachel. The two young women roared as their bellies slammed into one another, the blonde's arched back sending her tight tits smashing upward into her rival's. Rachel's nylon clad feet scrabbled against the smooth wooden surface of her desk, failing to find any traction to help her keep her on top. Hands in each other's long hair, the two rivals rolled back and forth on top of their desks, long legs locked around each other desperately, their skirts now bunched up around their waists. Bare thighs battled above stocking tops, skin against skin, muscles taut and rippling. Their desk lamps were swept to the floor in between their desks as the women rolled into them, casting the room into further darkness.

"You want a catfight, whore?" Rachel growled into her rival's face, their chapped, lipsticked lips blowing into one another. She could taste alcohol on the other girl's breath, warm and heavy on her lips.

"Bring it on, cheerleader," Sarah hissed, tilting her jaw against the brunette's, as she jerked down on her rival's dark strands.

Almost mad with hate, now, Rachel began to rip her nails up her blonde rival's stockings, snarling as she ripped apart the white nylon, talons biting into the blonde girl's lovely legs. She had never thought of her fingernails as weapons before, but she wielded them as unselfconsciously as any veteran catfighter, now. The sound of her own nylon ripping soon followed, as the enemies scratched at each other's shapely legs, the catalysts for their war against one another.

"I hate you, cunt," Rachel gasped, her voice rising on the last word, cut short by Sarah's teeth snapping down on her bottom lip. Her green eyes blazed into Sarah's blue irises, both girls wearing heavy eyeliner that exaggerated the size of their eyes, wide now with hatred. Without thinking, Rachel's tongue suddenly lashed out, licking at her rival's snarling mouth. The blonde's body seemed to freeze against hers for a split second, before Rachel felt the warm, wet kiss of Sarah's pink probe against her mouth. Snarling into each other's full, glossy lips, the two girls proceeded to exchange long, drawn-out bites, holding each other's lips in their teeth, their eyes promising more violence than they actually inflicted, and fleeting, tentative tongue kisses, their wet tongues darting against one another's hungrily, only to withdraw at the contact. It was the hottest, most perverse kiss Rachel had ever participated in, and she groaned as she wrestled with the blonde on the surface of their two joined desks.

"Is this how you like to fight, you big blonde whore?" Rachel hissed, holding her rival's lip in between her teeth, tasting the blonde's lipstick on her tongue. "Tonguing another girl until she gives up in disgust?"

"Am I getting you off, cunt?" Sarah managed to hiss carefully around her rival's teeth, her thighs grappling with Rachel's, spreading them apart and forcing their thongs into contact underneath their hiked skirts. "I've never met a bitch who wanted it as bad as you."

"YOU'RE the one getting her rocks off," Rachel insisted heatedly, wincing as Sarah bit down on her lip. She dug her nails into the back of the blonde's left thigh as they lay struggling on their sides, gripping the sleek muscle with her talons, feeling it spasm against her palm.

"Bitch," the blonde swore, her nails squeezing the bottom of her tall rival's shapely ass, right where it met her thigh. Rachel could feel the muscle twitch and harden involuntarily.

"I thought you wanted to fight with our legs, cunt," Rachel growled. "Or have you already given up on that fight?"

"I know I've got more leg than you, whore," Sarah hissed. The blonde suddenly shoved her rival away, the two rivals kicking free of one another, and getting warily to their knees on the platform of their two desks. They glared at one another through their long, tangled hair, brushing it away from their eyes, breathing heavily, both women hot and angry. Rachel began to unbutton her sweat-soaked blouse, showing her heaving tits to her blonde rival in their red, lycra cups. On her knees across from her, Sarah sneered, and did the same, pulling off her blouse and leaving the two young women in their bras, skirts, and tattered nylons.

Warily, the women slid off the wooden surface, circling each other around their desks, red nails brushing the wood threateningly, visible only as shadows to the other except when they passed through the spotlight of their desk lamps, now lying on their sides on the floor.

Rachel stopped the next time she passed the cone of light, waiting for the blonde to come around the perimeter of the desks to join her. She spread her long legs apart on the carpet in their laddered nylons, with Sarah taking a matching position across from her. The women locked eyes, glaring intently into each other's faces, a thin sheen of perspiration visible on both women. Slowly and deliberately, Rachel gripped the hem of her bunched skirt in both hands and tore, the sound of ripping fabric stretched out across several seconds, unnaturally loud in the dead silence of the room. "You've been hot for my legs since you first saw me, bitch," Rachel rasped. "Take a good look, whore."

Sarah was silent for a moment, her eyes studying the tall brunette's gorgeous legs. Somehow, the tattered nylon hanging off of them only made them seem more arousing to the blonde. Setting her jaw, Sarah slowly gripped the bottom of her skirt and ripped upward, as well, her blue thong sporting a sizable damp spot right over her pussy. "I know you've wanted to fuck my hot legs every day for the past two months, cunt," Sarah hissed.

"From the way your pussy is dripping, I'd say you're the one looking for a fuck, bitch," Rachel said.

"What can I say?" Sarah growled. "Beating long-legged, hard-bodied bitches like you gets me wet. Besides," the blonde said, tilting her chin at Rachel's crotch, which sported its own rapidly growing spot, "it looks like I'm not the only one of us in heat."

"Whore," Rachel snarled, lunging for her rival. Sarah met her head-on, the two young women smashing together hotly, their tits crushing into one another through their bras as their bare, slick bellies flattened against each other. Rachel grabbed two handfuls of her rival's blonde hair to pull them together even closer, the women grunting as they positioned their bodies against one another, bouncing breasts fighting for space. The two interns slid their long legs together, their ruined nylons scissoring the other's thigh. Sarah's cunt felt hot and moist on her thigh, barely constrained by the blonde's skimpy thong. She heard the other girl groan against her cheek as she squeezed her legs around her rival's leg, and forced her sleek thigh up against Sarah's cunt. Hands in each other's hair, the two girls slowly stumbled across the carpet in their stockinged feet, jamming their thighs against rival cunts and squeezing their strong, shapely legs together angrily.

After more than two hours fighting with Sarah, using her body and especially her legs in ways she had never dreamed of, Rachel felt her legs starting to cramp up. Stumbling slightly, Rachel suddenly felt herself slammed up against the wall, the blonde surging into her with her body, their tight tits smashing into one another. Gripping Sarah's hair in both hands desperately, she twisted and reversed their positions, pressing her thigh against the blonde's wet crotch as her rival squirmed with her back to the wall.

Rachel smashed her bra-covered tits into Sarah's, driving the blonde against the cold plaster of the wall repeatedly, until she felt the blonde's teeth bite down on her lip again, drawing her into another brutal kiss. This time, the two women let their lips lock fully, sucking on one another's hot, gasping mouths until they were breathless, surfacing only to suck down a mouthful of air. Dizzy with a lack of oxygen and an over-the-top, violent arousal she had never known before, Rachel stumbled backward, stopping only when she felt her back hit the edge of her desk. Her legs splayed on the carpet, arms leaning back on the desk, Rachel watched warily as her blonde officemate stood leaning against the wall, her tits heaving up and down in blue lycra cups. In the dim ambient light provided by the fallen lamps on the ground, she could barely see Sarah slowly reach inside the waistband of her panties, but once she identified the motion, it was unmistakable. Forcibly reminded of the throbbing of her cunt, Rachel slid one hand down her panties, as well, her fingers sliding through her dark pubic hair to touch her wet vaginal lips.

"It's hard, isn't it?" Sarah hissed. "Your clit, I mean."

It was. In fact, it was peeking out from in between the folds of her labia, now, thick and engorged in a way it had never been before with anyone. "Yeah," Rachel acknowledged, her voice low. "It's hard, bitch."

"A hot, long-legged bitch like you probably has a long clit, too," Sarah said.

Rachel froze momentarily, wondering just how long Sarah's clit was. She had always thought her clit was above average in size, and right now it felt larger than it had ever been. "It's long enough, whore," she rasped.

"Long enough to fuck with?" Sarah demanded, the arrogant blonde's voice almost tremulous now.

Rachel should have been shocked, but instead, she felt nothing but a sick sense of excitement in the pit of her stomach, as if she had known all along. "Long enough to fight with," she hissed.

She saw Sarah shimmy out of her panties, and she quickly pulled hers off, as well, casting them off into the darkness. Now only in their bras and the last remnants of their thigh-highs, the two rivals advanced on one another with bare cunts.

The two young women smashed into one another again, their bare skin smacking together. "Fight me with your clit, Rachel," Sarah hissed, her hips ramming into the brunette's, their pubic hair tangling together.

Rachel groaned as she felt the other girl's bare cunt smash hotly into hers, the feeling almost alien and overwhelming, warm, wet, soft, and hairy. She thrust back, her clit tingling with sensation, throbbing madly. "I'm here, Sarah," she hissed back. "Let's see who's bigger, whore."

The women pressed their cheeks together, arms wrapped around each other in a bearhug, as their clits found one another. Rachel groaned, bucking her hips against her nearly naked blonde rival. Both women shook, as they humped each other in near darkness, their desperate groans filling the room.

"You CUNT!" Sarah roared into her ear, her long, stiff clit tangling with Rachel's.

"MY cunt!" Rachel screamed right back against the blonde's ear, jerking her hard clit against the blonde's sex horn. "MY cunt will win!"

Rachel felt like her crotch was on fire, the blonde's thrusting clit like a small sliver of arousal inside her cunt, which throbbed unbearably, twitching uncontrollably. She felt her proud legs go weak, and suddenly found herself falling to her knees, the blonde inexplicably falling with her. Over and over the rivals rolled on the carpet, their pussies locked together, clits twitching and twisting against one another, sending shivers through each girl's body.

They rolled into the leg of the desk, and the brunette felt her shoulder strike the metal with a dull thud, and did not care. She felt Sarah's nails rake along her bare back, and heard herself scrape her own nails down the back of the blonde's thigh in answer, and still the rivals did not let go of each other. Every time they came to a stop, one of them would push off against the carpet with her knee and roll them again, as if neither girl could bear the thought of the fight ending before her clit had finished what it had started. Rachel lost track of which part of the floor they were on. She caught glimpses, in the low light, of the underside of her desk, of Sarah's torn white stocking twisted around her own black, of a wad of their ripped skirts pressed into a little knot between their hips. The blonde's hair was everywhere, tangled around Rachel's neck and in her mouth and between her breasts, and Rachel's own dark hair was tangled just as thoroughly around the blonde. They could no longer tell whose leg was whose. They could no longer tell whose hand was gripping whose hair, whose breath was gasping in whose ear, whose hips were thrusting which way. There was only the single long electric shock where their clits kept finding each other, burning brighter each time they rolled over a new patch of carpet.

Rachel tried to say something cruel, tried to say "my cunt is better than yours," but the words would not come out right. What came out was Sarah's name, in a tone she had never taken with the blonde before, thick with exhaustion and need. She felt Sarah's mouth close over hers, and she felt the blonde moan her name back, a ragged "Rachel" against her teeth, and the cruelty the brunette had been reaching for quietly left her.

"Finish me, bitch," Sarah whispered against her mouth, her blue eyes almost black in the dark, no fight left in her voice, only heat. "Please. I can't. I can't hold it anymore."

"Fuck me with yours first, whore," Rachel whispered back, and she heard her own voice break on the word "please" that she did not quite let out, and Sarah heard it too, because the blonde's mouth softened against hers and the blonde's hips surged up into her and Sarah's clit slid against her clit one last time, slow and wet and naked, and that was all it took. Both women shook at the same moment. Their cunts clenched at the same moment. Their mouths fell open against each other at the same moment, and the sound that came out of them was not victory and not defeat. It was a long, shuddering sob, thrown into the dark office from two throats pressed together.

It went on for a very long time. When it finally began to fade, Rachel realized she had Sarah's face pressed into the crook of her neck and Sarah's whole naked body cradled against her own, and that she was holding the blonde the way she had not held anyone in years, with her arms wrapped all the way around the blonde's back and her fingers moving through the blonde's damp hair. Sarah was shaking. Rachel realized, with something that felt like vertigo, that she was shaking too.

"Don't let go," Sarah whispered. There was no bitch in her voice, and no whore. Just the blonde's real voice, for the first time, soft and a little rough, talking into Rachel's skin.

"I won't," Rachel whispered. "I'm not going to, Sarah."

They stayed on the carpet like that for a long time. The office smelled of nylon and sweat and sex. The fallen desk lamps cast two tilted cones of light across the ceiling. Rachel could feel Sarah's heart beating against her breast, and she could feel her own heart beating in exactly the same rhythm, and she could not remember the last time she had been this frightened or this happy.

Eventually, Sarah lifted her head. The blonde's eyeliner had smeared into dark crescents under her eyes. Her lipstick was gone. She looked younger than she had ever looked across their two desks, and also, somehow, softer. Rachel could not stop staring at her.

"Come here," Sarah whispered, and she pulled the brunette up with her as she sat back against the base of the desk, and she turned Rachel around in her arms so that the brunette was sitting between her spread legs with her back against the blonde's chest. Sarah's arms came around Rachel's stomach from behind and held her there, and Sarah's mouth pressed into the side of her throat, and Rachel closed her eyes. She had never been held by a woman like this. She had never been held by anyone like this.

Sarah's hand slid down Rachel's stomach, slow and careful, nothing like a fight. Rachel felt the blonde's fingers part her fur and find her clit, which was still hard, still trembling from everything that had just happened, and the brunette gasped. She tried, out of habit, to put up some kind of resistance. She meant to say "bitch." Instead, she heard her own voice say, "Yes." Sarah's lips smiled against her throat. The blonde kissed her there, and stroked her, slow and coaxing, and Rachel felt another orgasm building in her, and this one was completely different from the last. It was slower, and softer, and the heat of it moved up her spine and into her mouth, and when she came she turned her head and buried her face in Sarah's neck and let the blonde hold her through it. Afterward, Rachel laid Sarah back against the carpet and did the same to her, on her knees with her dark hair falling all around the blonde's face, watching the blonde's mouth fall open and her eyes slide shut as Rachel's fingers moved inside her. Sarah whispered her name over and over the whole time, and when it was done she pulled Rachel down and kissed her like she was saving her life.

"My apartment," the blonde said against her mouth. "Right now, Rachel. I can't go home alone after this."

"I can't either," Rachel said.

They got their ruined clothes on as best they could, laughing at how they looked, the laugh itself a strange new thing between the two women who had not shared a real laugh between them in two months. They left the desks shoved together in the middle of the office and they did not bother to fix them. They gathered their torn stockings and their ripped skirts and they balled them up and they carried them out of the building under their jackets. Sarah drove. Neither of them let go of the other's hand on the gearshift for the entire ride.

Sarah's apartment was two neighborhoods over, small and tidy, with the blinds drawn and a single lamp on in the living room. Sarah did not turn on any other lights. She just pulled Rachel through the darkness to her bedroom, and she sat the brunette down on the edge of her bed, and she knelt down and finished taking off what was left of her stockings for her, and then her own, moving slowly, and when she was done she climbed onto the bed and climbed on top of Rachel and kissed her for a long, long time without doing anything else.

They made love that night without the word "bitch" or the word "whore" passing between them once. It felt strange, almost foreign, to Rachel, how quiet the two of them had become. Sarah spread Rachel's long legs slowly on the bed with her own long legs, and she pressed her cunt against the brunette's cunt, and the motion was the same motion they had been fighting over for hours in the office, but it was not a fight anymore. It was just Sarah rocking slowly above her in the dim light, her blonde hair falling forward around both of their faces, her blue eyes fixed on Rachel's with something in them that was not anger, that was not lust either, that Rachel did not have a name for. They came against each other quietly, this time, holding hands, their fingers laced together on the pillow above Rachel's head. Later, Rachel rolled the blonde over and did the same, slower, even slower, and Sarah cried, openly, and Rachel kissed her tears and did not stop moving, and the blonde came crying, her hand over her mouth as if she was embarrassed at the sound she was making, and Rachel pulled her hand away and kissed her open mouth and whispered, "It's okay. It's me."

They fell asleep tangled together, exactly like that, the word "tangled" taking on a new meaning that neither of them had thought could ever apply to the two of them.

In the morning, Rachel woke up with Sarah's head on her chest and Sarah's arm across her stomach, and she lay very still, and she listened to the blonde breathe. She had known this woman for two months. She had hated this woman for two months. She should have been in crisis. Instead, she felt the opposite of that, which she could only describe as calm, the first real calm she had felt in months.

Sarah stirred, and looked up at her, and smiled, sleepy and uncertain. "Tell me you're not going to walk out of here," the blonde whispered.

"I'm not going to walk out of here," Rachel said.

"Tell me you're not going back to your apartment."

Rachel hesitated. Then she said, "Okay."

Sarah's smile widened, and then the blonde pressed her face into Rachel's breast, as if hiding from how wide her own smile was. Rachel laughed softly, and kissed the top of the blonde's head, and she realized she was not going to walk out of here at all.

They did not go back to the office that Monday. Sarah called in sick for both of them, doing Rachel's voice in a stuffy imitation that made the brunette laugh into a pillow. They ordered food and ate it in bed, they fought over the last piece of chicken and ended up making love about it, they fought over which side of the mattress was hers and made love about that too. Sarah pulled out a measuring tape at some point, lying flat on her back with her legs stretched straight up in the air, and she demanded that Rachel measure them. Rachel measured hers too. They were exactly the same length, which Rachel had sort of known all along, and when she read the tape out loud the blonde narrowed her eyes at her and said, "Mine are still hotter, bitch." And then both of them cracked up, and Sarah pulled her down, and the old bitter words had become something else, something warm and half-secret and theirs.

By Thursday, Rachel had moved her suitcase over. By the following weekend, she had broken her own lease, paying out the last three months and not caring, and her things were on a moving truck headed across town to the same building Sarah lived in. Sarah helped her carry up every box herself, in a tank top and her cut-off shorts, muscles in her long legs flexing as she went up and down the stairs, and Rachel kept stopping to watch her, and kept getting caught, and kept saying "bitch" under her breath, and Sarah kept grinning.

They kept both bedrooms, for about a week, pretending they needed separate closets. Then one night Sarah just showed up at Rachel's door in nothing but one of the brunette's t-shirts and stood there leaning in the doorframe with her blue eyes narrowed and her lip caught between her teeth, and she said, "Come to bed, cunt." And Rachel laughed, because that was now how they said I love you, and she followed the blonde down the hall to the room that had become their room, and she did not sleep in her own bed again.

At work, the other interns and the men in the office gradually noticed that something had changed between the two tall young women at the corner desks. The two interns did not glare across the room at each other anymore. The two interns did not make catty comments about each other's legs. The two interns, in fact, occasionally shared a private little smile across their desks that nobody else in the room could read, and disappeared to the bathroom together at roughly the same time once or twice a day, and came back a little more flushed than they had left. The leg man from the after hours party made a comment about it to a coworker one afternoon, and the coworker, who happened to be a woman, gave him a long level look and said only, "Yeah. I noticed." And that was the last anyone in the office said about it out loud.

On their last day as interns, Rachel stood in the doorway of the little room that had almost combusted between them that long July, and she watched Sarah pack the last of her things into a cardboard box. The blonde straightened up, and turned around, and caught Rachel looking, and she put her hand on her hip exactly the way she had put it on her hip that first morning with her skirt hiked up.

"Better than YOURS," she said softly, but she was smiling so hard she could barely get the words out.

"HOTTER than yours," Rachel answered, crossing the room. She kissed the blonde, and she tasted her, and she held her, and she whispered into her ear, "Let's go home, Sarah."

Sarah nodded against her throat. "Let's go home, Rachel."

They turned off the desk lamps for the last time, and they closed the door behind them, and they went.