Excerpt for Wet & Messy Bratfights by , available in its entirety at Smashwords

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The Brat vs. the Bimbo Secretary

By Emma Kunis

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2017

All characters in this book are over 18 years old.

I grit my teeth when I see her across the grocery store. She is Tabby Long, the blond secretary that Mr. Rose is currently dating. Last night, I was hanging out with my friend Lila at her house when her dad came home with Tabby. Like a ho-bag, the blond was giggling way too much at Mr. Rose’s jokes and rubbing her obviously enhanced D-cups against his arm.

You have no right to be jealous, an annoying voice in my head whispers. I have a crush on Mr. Rose, but he is my best friend’s dad. I shouldn't have a crush on him and definitely shouldn't be jealous of his girlfriend. Still, I glare at the blond as she inspects a jar of tomato sauce. I would bet good money that the bimbo doesn't know at least half of the words on the label.

Shaking my head, I force myself to look at the grocery list my mom gave me. Tomato sauce, oh jeez. Skipping that item for now, I decide to go grab a bottle of ranch dressing. But as I try to get out of the aisle, someone rams their shopping cart into my back. Son of a bitch, that hurts! I turn around, my eyes full of fire, and who do I see? No one but the bimbo secretary herself.

She smirks at me. “Sorry, Evelyn,” she says, not sounding very apologetic.

“You did that on purpose!” I accuse her. There's plenty of space in the aisle, so unless the bitch is blind, she easily could have moved around me.

“Oh please, I did not. But even if I did, you can't prove it.” Her blue eyes are full of self-satisfaction.

“What's your problem?” I snarl.

“My problem is that some 18-year-old brat obviously has the hots for my boyfriend.”

I force a laugh. “Mr. Rose? Please, he's, like, old.”

She takes a step toward me, hissing, “Don't play innocent with me, you little slut. I saw you ‘accidentally’ brush your tits against him.”

I bite my lip. When Mr. Rose got up to get drinks in the kitchen, I did offer to help him and might have pressed my tits against his sleeve as we bumped into each other at the fridge. Shameless, I know, but he so got a hard on when I did that. I throw her own words back at her, “Oh please, I did not. But even if I did, you can't prove it.”

“A brat like you needs a good spanking.”

“Wow, Tabby, I have to say I'm impressed. For a bimbo secretary, you're quite perceptive.”

Did you just call me a bimbo?”

“Uh, yeah. Did I not say that slow enough for you? Bim-”

Her face grows red. “Why, you!” She opens the jar of tomato sauce.

I gasp when she dumps the sauce all over my white tank top. Staring at my now-red and wet shirt, I scream, “You crazy bitch!”

“That's for calling me a bimbo,” she says, smirking.

Growling, I grab a jar of tomato sauce off the shelf. Wiping the smirk off her face, I throw the sauce on her white blouse. She curses at me, her boobs trembling with anger inside her top. “Hope that rag wasn't too expensive,” I say. “Getting the stain out of that would be impossible.”

By now, a crowd of customers has gathered around us, eager to watch the catfight between Tabby and me.

“You slutty brat!” she roars, grabbing a jar of queso and dumping it on my hair. I cry out as the thick yellow stuff covers my black locks and face, stinging my eyes. Wiping my eyes, I grab her shirt. I intend to only pull the tramp closer to me, but I accidentally tear her blouse off her. Fellow customers gasp with me when they see her red lace bra.

“You cunt!” Tabby screams at me, her boobs jiggling in her bra. Then she pounces on me and rips my tank top off.

I shout curses, crossing my arms over my naked C-cups. A few people holler at me. I can't believe I ended up fucking topless in the middle of a grocery store! “You hag!” I hiss. “You're a grown ass woman picking a fight with a teen girl.”

“In my defense, the teen girl wants to steal my man!” Then she opens a can of beef stew and throws the thick brown stuff onto my bare belly. As some of the stew drips onto my shorts, I drop my arms. Screw modesty. I need to teach this whore a lesson. Taking a can of chicken noodle soup, I open it, pull out Tabby’s bra, then pour the slimy noodles and the broth into it. She yells insults at me when I tear off her bra, exposing her breasts, which are slick with wet noodles and soup.

A teenage boy whispers, “I'm so glad my mom made me get the groceries today.”

Tabby’s D-cups bounce in anger. Then she grabs my messy hair. I yelp as she drags me to the salad section. The crowd follows us, probably aroused by our topless catfight. Then she tackles me to the ground and sits on my belly. Cackling, she grabs a bottle of ranch dressing and squirts it all over my face. I moan as the thick white dressing gets on my cheeks and forehead. She then aims the dressing at my breasts, dousing my chest in the white stuff. To further my humiliation, she sprinkles my slimy tits with croutons and lettuce leaves.

When she yanks at my shorts, I sit up and push her down onto the floor. I put my ass on her stomach and take a bottle of French dressing. I cover her blond hair and face with the thick orange stuff, making her cry out as some dressing gets into her eyes. Then I drench her bosom in the dressing. Laughing, I top off her wet and messy tits with lettuce leaves and bacon bits. When I put my hands on her skirt, she knocks me back down onto the floor and grabs my shorts. I pull at her skirt and we're soon both struggling on the floor, determined to rip off our opponent’s clothes. With a lot of screaming, we both succeed. I'm soon in nothing but my white cotton panties and sneakers; and she lies in nothing but her red panties, fishnet tights, and pink heels. She groans as I pull out her panties and dump creamy potato salad into them.

“You slut,” she says as I massage the front of her panties, making sure her pussy is totally covered in the potato salad. With a smile, she throws a French silk pie onto my face. I land on my back on the floor, whipped cream and chocolate making my eyes water.

I moan as she pulls out my panties and puts tuna salad in them. My moans turn louder as she kneads the crotch of my underwear, ensuring that the creamy tuna salad is deep within my folds. It then occurs to me that Mr. Rose would love watching our catfight. Two topless babes fighting over him? A man’s dream come true. Plus we are covering each other in food, and I recently discovered that he has a serious wet and messy fetish.

I gasp when Tabby puts me on her lap, her messy tits pressing against my bare back. She squeezes my boobs. “Ready to become a filthy mess, you whore?” she whispers. I catch my breath when she slams a cherry pie onto my bosom, the sticky red filling and buttery crust exploding on my chest. She pinches my nipples, making me shriek. I scream when my stomach goes on the floor and she sits on my back.

“No, no, no!” I shout when she tears off my panties and slaps my naked ass.

“Time to give this brat a spanking!” she exclaims before covering my ass cheeks with a chocolate cake. I moan as chocolate frosting and cake get inside my asshole. She pinches my butt cheeks, making me squeak. God, my ass is stinging. When she dares to swat my butt again, I sit up, sending her flying down to the ground. With a smug smile, I pull down her panties, revealing her cleanly shaven potato-salad-covered pussy. Then I tear off her panties, tights, and heels. She screams when I throw her heels into a tub of Italian dressing.

“Do you know how much those cost?” she squawks, trembling and completely naked.

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