I went back to the large lounge, but Julie had gone off for a moment, presumably to the lavatory or bathroom.I went back to the large lounge, but Julie had gone off for a moment, presumably to the lavatory or bathroom. I waited somewhat uncertainly for her return: would we just go on, or would she drop the whole thing? * * * When she returned she was wearing a different oufit, black blouse and black leather skirt. She came straight over to where I was sitting and without warning grabbed my shirt collar and pulled me to the floor. And then she tore at the shirt and ripped it almost in two. Kicking me in the groin again, she then proceeded, as I lay half on my belly, to work on my trousers in an attempt to de-bag me! I struggled and managed to stop her doing more than unzipping them and untying my belt, managing to get to my feet with one supreme effort. But she leapt at me, banging me against the wall as she now bent forward tearing at my underpants, my trousers slipping from me as she did so. I managed to retrieve them as I pushed her off, fixed the belt quickly and decided to fight without a shirt. She, meanwhile, had for some reason taken her blouse off to expose her breasts, probably a way of distracting and tantalizing me, yet surprising for all that, as she hated for me to praise, still less touch, her large tits. Both of us semi-naked, we now fought like tigers, a desperate twenty minutes elapsing without a break. "Give me a break," I gasped, breathless. "Five minutes." "As you wish, you weakling," she snarled. "All the better for me in the end." We stepped aside and she left the room shouting, "Five minutes." * * * The situation was bewildering in the extreme. It appeared that she was going to fight until one or the other of use was beaten and, presumably, she was determined that person should be me. She had gone to the trouble of putting on a new outfit, one that I supposed was more suitable for fighting. And then she had almost at once removed the top, leaving her breasts naked! The only explanation I could think of was that she was perspiring furiously from her efforts, and it was certainly easier to fight with one's upper half bare. |