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Two Gold Diggers

Book By: emmakunis
Erotica



Two gold diggers. One wealthy bachelor. A lot of messy action.

Lucy Stern is used to getting what she wants, which is why she believes landing Caleb Archibald, Remington Heights' wealthiest bachelor, will be a piece of cake. Unfortunately, Caleb has a girlfriend, Autumn Collins, a redheaded vixen with a hot temper and a major possessive streak. When Lucy has the audacity to flirt with Caleb in front of Autumn, the two gold-digging vixens get entangled in a sexy and messy duel for his affections. Clothes are lost, hair is trashed, and various desserts are shoved into unmentionable places. Both girls are willing to do anything to get Caleb's wealth - including, but not limited to, humiliating their rival, ripping clothes and underwear off, and spanking each other with pies.


Submitted:May 29, 2014    Reads: 163    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   


Competition/

I lick my lips and adjust my little black dress as I stare at Caleb Archibald across the room. Caleb, the richest bachelor in Remington Heights and the man I am going to marry-even if he doesn't know it yet.

Before I can make my move and whisper seductively in his ear, however, a redheaded tramp puts a hand on his shoulder and gives him a sweet smile. I scowl when he returns the bitch's smile. A part of me wants to growl, "He's mine!" to the girl, but the more wise part of me realizes how psychotic that would be when Caleb doesn't even know my name.

The corners of my lips go down when I assess my rival. Damn it, she's hot. Long sleek hair as fiery as my temper, plump red lips, brilliant green eyes, unblemished white skin, and legs that go on for miles. Her sexiness is only amplified by the flashy silver dress she wears, a garment that is only a few dangerous inches away from revealing her toned ass.

Confronted by her beauty, I start to feel insecure, even though I am well aware of my good looks. Humble is definitely not a word to describe me. Every day, I smile when I look in the mirror and see my long shiny blond hair, sparkling blue eyes, clear tanned skin, and perky C-cups. Some jealous girls call me arrogant; I prefer the term confident.

After taking a deep breath, I walk to Caleb before the tramp can sink her perfectly manicured nails into him. Caleb will be mine, and I have to make the bitch know it.

"Oh, hi, there," I say in a flirtatious high-pitched voice as I play with his silk tie. "What's your name?" I ask although I have known the answer for weeks. A little wetness enters my panties when I stare at the zipper on his designer jeans and imagine pulling it down. Not only does Caleb possess an insane amount of wealth, but he is also ridiculously sexy. Short brown hair, stunning sapphire eyes, bronzed skin, and a mouth that begs to be kissed. And him without a shirt on? Delectable. Even Channing Tatum suffers in comparison.

"Caleb Archibald," he answers. "And what's yours, beautiful?"

I have to stop myself from smirking at the redhead. Ha, he called me beautiful, bitch!

"Lucy Stern," I say.

"It's nice to meet you, Lucy." He gestures toward the green-eyed vixen. "May I introduce you to Autumn Collins, my girlfriend?"

My eyes widen. Inside, I curse. Fuck, this bitch is his girlfriend? I thought she was just some random skank. Oh, this makes things so much harder.

Behind Caleb's back, Autumn flashes me a smirk. I have to stop myself from clawing her eyes out. Autumn, he may be your boyfriend now, but he will be my husband.

"Nice to meet you, Lucy," she says cheerfully.

I grit my teeth. "Nice to meet you too, Autumn."

I mentally sigh. Guess I'm going to have to put my boyfriend-stealing skills to use.

***

I suppose if I was a girl with a conscience, I would feel somewhat guilty about wanting to steal Caleb away from Autumn. But, as girls all of my life have made clear to me, I'm a heartless, ruthless whore. If I was a normal girl, I suppose I would feel a tiny bit sad about having no female friends, but as I'm anything but ordinary, I'm completely content with the fact; the expensive dinners and presents given to me by their former boyfriends are more than adequate compensation.

But why did Caleb, of all men, have to be in a relationship with some cunt? Caleb is the only boy I've ever wanted as my husband. Nothing but the finest for me, and Caleb is definitely the finest man in Remington Heights.

Not all hope is lost, though. Far from it, actually. All night at the club, he was flirting with me in front of his girlfriend. Gazes that traveled up and down my body, sweet compliments whispered into my ear, and even a dance that resulted in me "accidentally" touching a prominent bulge in his jeans and him "accidentally" grazing my breast.

Autumn was seething the whole time, and I have to say, I loved every damn minute of it.

A smile on my face from a sense of an upcoming victory, I unlock the door to my apartment. When I go inside, I almost faint to the floor in shock.

"What the fuck?" I shout, putting a hand to my chest. Shit, my heart is beating so fast.

In front of me stands a glaring Autumn Collins.

"How the hell did you get into my apartment, you bitch?" I ask, ready to put a bruise on her pretty face.

"I have my ways, you boyfriend-stealing slut," she says.

"It's not my fault your boyfriend prefers blonds," I say sweetly.

"Stay away from him, skank!"

"No. He's the richest man in Remington Heights, and I intend to make him my husband."

"You're delusional! Caleb and his money are mine, not yours, you piece of white trash."

"You're the delusional one," I say. "I practically make a career out of stealing men away."

"Fine. Try to take Caleb from me," she says. "But you won't succeed, and I'm going to make your life hell while you make your pathetic attempts to seduce him." The psycho then opens my fridge and begins throwing my groceries out of it.

"You're trashing my apartment!" I shriek as some guacamole lands on my couch.

"Yeah. So?" she says as she flings a pie onto my television.

"You're going down, cunt," I snarl as I walk up to her and pull her hair.

"Ow!" she shouts. "Let go of my hair!"

"Make me."

She then throws a key lime pie into my face, causing me to lose my hold on her hair and to fall in a chocolate cake on the floor.

I clench my fists as I see the chocolate frosting all over my expensive black dress and the whipped cream on my hair. "I'm going to destroy you," I growl, clutching her arm and pulling her down into the cake with me. A laugh escapes my mouth as I smash her beautiful face into the chocolate frosting and pour kale smoothie all over her little silver dress.

She gasps as she sits up and stares at the damage I've done to her hair and dress. "You owe me six hundred dollars!" she says.

"No way in hell."

The psycho tears off my dress and rips it into tiny little shreds of black fabric. My jaw drops as I look at my bra and panties, the only garments covering me now. Did the freak just fucking strip me?

"That dress cost over four hundred dollars," I hiss.

"That cheap rag? At best, it's worth five bucks."

Like a starving tiger on a piece of meat, I pounce on the bitch and wipe that smug smirk off her face-literally--with sour cream.

She spits the sour cream out. "Do you know how much fat is in that?"

"Uh, yeah," I reply before I rip off her dress and throw it into a bowl of tapioca pudding. To my glee, I find out she neglected to don a bra, so now she sits only in her panties and heels.

Her small B-cups shake as she heaves with anger. "How dare you!"

"An eye for an eye, bitch."

She throws a French silk pie into my face, making me fall on my back in a huge bowl of hummus. Before I can get up, she sits on my arms.

She lowers her head until our lips are only a few inches away from kissing. "Time to teach a slut a lesson," she whispers before dumping guacamole all over my face.

I'm filled with rage as she pours strawberry yogurt all over my cleavage. God, I have never been so humiliated.

It only gets worse, however.

Utter shock leaves me speechless as she stuffs cream cheese into my panties. Seriously, is this happening for real or am I in some frat boy's wet dream right now?

I squirm as the cream cheese enters my pussy. Ugh, that is so not sanitary.

I gasp when she frees my breasts from my bra.

Okay, I am so in a frat boy's dirty fantasy. Yeah, I've gotten into catfights-can't really expect girls to be happy when I sleep with their boyfriends, after all-but never one that left me topless and my vagina covered in cream cheese. The most risque fight I had before this was with some college chick. She saw me making out with her boyfriend-he had a trust fund and a tendency to spend it on pretty girls-at some party, and we ended up wrestling in a mud pit in our bikinis. Yeah, some boys-including her boyfriend-became hard at seeing us duke it out in the slimy mud, but our tops never left our bodies.

Autumn smiles as she covers my tits in chocolate sauce and pinches my nipples.

"OW!" I hiss. What kind of girl takes off her rival's bra and pinches her nipples? Seriously? Sure, this one girl at work and I ended up ripping off each other's blouses and skirts in a catfight in the copy room after she found out I was fucking her husband and getting him to buy me diamond necklaces, but our underwear stayed on, thank you very much. Her husband didn't need to see our breasts to be aroused when he discovered us pulling each other's hair, each of us dressed in only a bra and panties.

As Autumn drenches me in fruit punch, I'm reminded of my high school prom. This girl discovered me French-kissing her boyfriend in the girls' bathroom, and we dueled over her beau's affections in a huge-ass punch bowl, totally ruining our dresses.

"Had enough yet?" Autumn asks.

"Not even close." I push the cunt off me. Before she can get away from me, I grab the waistband of her panties. If she wants to fight dirty, we'll fight dirty, all right.

She screams of indignation as I pull her panties down her long legs, exposing her shaved pussy. After her panties leave her feet, I wave her underwear around like a child showing off his cape.

"I HATE YOU!" she yells as I take off her heels and drop them into a bowl of clam chowder.

"I hate you too," I say, blowing her a kiss before I throw her into a huge bowl of tapioca pudding.

She groans as she can't help sinking into the pudding like it's quicksand. She then tries to get out of it, but she keeps falling on her face before she can get herself out of the bowl. I laugh as she resigns herself to sitting up. Every inch of my rival is covered in tapioca pudding, including her heaving bosom and sex.

She trembles with anger. "I'm suing your ass!" she shrieks.

"You're the one who broke into my apartment and started trashing it."

"You're trying to take my man!"

"Your man? Try my future husband." I stand up and wave. "Have fun trying to get yourself out of that pudding."

"Oh, you're not leaving, you slut!" Before I can blink, she grabs me by my panties and drags me down into the pudding with her. I attempt to leave the bowl, but she shoves my face into the creamy dessert. I can't stop myself from getting submerged in the pudding. Ugh, my water bills are going to go through the roof from the long-ass shower I have to take after this catfight.

Again, she clutches my panties, and soon I'm naked in the pudding with my opponent.

I clench my teeth as she taunts me by waving my panties in front of my face.

"Revenge is sweet," she says with a smile.

I jump on her and start spanking her, making her squeal like a pig with each swat to her ass. Then I take a red velvet cupcake and shove it into her sex.

"You freak!" she shouts, groaning as I push the cupcake further into her pussy.

"You're the one who decided to turn this fight into a frat boy's wet dream," I say as I squeeze her tits, making her hiss in pain. I almost wish that some boys were watching us right now. Sure, it would be kind of degrading to have a nude messy catfight in public, but I love to see guys getting aroused by the titillating catfights I frequently get myself into. What can I say? I love getting attention from the opposite sex.

Growling, Autumn pushes me away from her, and my stomach lands on the pudding. Before I can get up, she sits on my back.

"You know what naughty sluts like you deserve? A spanking," she says before slapping my ass.

I whimper. Christ, that hurts. My ass still stings when she delivers another swat to my butt. She then spanks me with an apple pie, making me yelp.

She hisses into my ear, "Don't mess with my man."

"You must be insecure as fuck if you're going to this much trouble to punish me for flirting with Caleb."

"Oh, believe me, I'm not insecure. I know trashy whores like you have no chance of taking Caleb away from me. I just think sluts like you need to be taught a lesson."

"You get into catfights a lot?"

"Much too often. Just last week, I had to mud-wrestle some cheap-ass waitress who tried to give Caleb a blow job. Ugh, such a hassle. But it was worth it to see the whore naked and filthy."

"You're fucked-up."

"Says the famous slut. I know about your past. One of my friends told me you two ended up having a fight in whipped cream in your bikinis after she found out you were screwing her man and he was buying you expensive jewelry."

"Oh, that chick? I remember she kept trying to rip my top off and humiliated me at a party by pushing me into a fondue fountain. Crazy bitch."

"You need to stop stealing people's boyfriends."

"Well, I wouldn't be able to steal them if you girls knew how to satisfy your men."

"You fucking cunt!" she exclaims before smashing a blueberry pie into my face.

"You know it's true."

She slams a piece of cheesecake into my pussy. I smile. She wouldn't be so angry if she was confident that she could keep her man. Then I groan. Dessert inside your sex? Not exactly a comfortable, non-disgusting feeling.

"Ugh, it's already three in the morning," Autumn says, standing up. "I'm going to go home and take a shower." She points a finger at me. "Leave Caleb alone."

I send her my sweetest smile. "I don't think so. I'd bet you a hundred dollars I'm going to have sex with him by the end of the week."

My words goad her into dumping mayonnaise all over me.

I sigh when she leaves the apartment and I assess the state of my home. Christ, it's a mess. I don't want to clean this up. I wish I had a maid.

Then a grin comes on to my face when I think about someone who does.

Without putting any clothes on, I grab my keys and go out the door.

Time to seduce Remington Heights' wealthiest bachelor.

Want to read more? Buy the book on Amazon:

http://www.amazon.com/Two-Gold-Diggers-Messy-Erotica-ebook/dp/B00KKU9EZW/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1401344743&sr=1-1&keywords=emma+kunis





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