By Ivan Willie

Michael strode purposefully into Yale Bowl with his girlfriend on his arm. Her name was Amanda; though British by birth she was a long time resident of the States" A chestnut-haired beauty in a cherry red parka and tight, tight button-up jeans, Amanda scurried to keep up. They crunched together through the frigid air and the crusty snow scattered liberally across the open ground inside the gate. Steamy breathed latecomers hurried along.

Michael and Amanda didn't have to worry about stray seating deep in the student section. Michael's best friend Chris was already there, paying off a favor by arriving early and saving good .seats. Lucky for us, Amanda thought, because the temperature was hovering in the low teens, with a numbing wind chill factor. Michael-- tall and blonde, broad-shouldered and almost obscenely handsome (Amanda thought) was carrying their stadium blanket, and hidden within was their flask of Grand Marnier.
They passed through the tunnel and emerged into the bright sun; immediately enveloped in a sea of color swaying and frothing, a bowl filled with sound-- people cheering, bands blaring, air horns blasting-- and down on the ice encrusted field tiny jersey-clad figures lined up and charged madly at each other in patterned precision. Only after those exhilarating first few moments did they feel the cold, smiting them in the face. Amanda felt her chest tighten, her very breath constrict. But Michael was still hurrying, carefully picking his way down the frozen concrete steps, giggling Amanda rushing down after him.

Rugged Michael and his classically beautiful English girlfriend were indeed a handsome couple. Last night Amanda had chased out her roommate to bring Michael up to their hearth, a cozy little one bedroom apartment with living room, fireplace, and a well-worn white fur rug. Amanda loved to stretch out on that rug in front of a fire. Michael started one, a glorious blazing fire. In the semi-darkness Amanda let him unbutton her blouse, pull off her skirt and make love to her for the first time. Michael had been fine, hard and gentle in penetrating her tight, hot pussy, stroking and tickling her fancy until well into the morning. Amanda remembered him suspended above her, his arms extended out to both sides of her like pillars of sculpted rock, his pelvis gently thrusting down at her again and again, his prick an arching rod sliding moistly in and out of her. In the morning Amanda had captured his red woolen shirt, parading around in it like a trophy. "Today this shirt is mine!" she'd said matter-of-factly and he laughed. Of course that left him without a shirt but Michael just zipped his parka up underneath his chin and raced out of breath across the freezing campus to pick up another for the game.

Michael and Amanda descended the gray icy steps towards the floor of the stadium until they finally reached the row where Chris was standing and waving at them like a madman. He and his girl were deep in the row amidst the tightly packed student section, so Michael and Amanda had to pick their way amongst a sea of legs, of boots and thermoses and flimsy cardboard boxes holding hot dogs and sloppy spilling cups of beer. Amanda followed Michael down the row to Chris in the wake of his disruption, having to apologize to all the people rudely disturbed and laughing all the way.

Suddenly she was there. Michael had already sat down next to Chris and was engaged in deep conversation. They were talking about just how badly the home side would lose. Michael had already covered his lap with Chris' blanket, and had scooted aside just enough to expose a crack of icy wooden bench. The space was just wide enough for a friendly ass to press down into.

Amanda thought to look for Chris' new girl, hoping for a familiar face and someone to talk to, but then she heard the voice, that melodic feminine voice and time suddenly stopped:

"Hello Amanda."

Amanda knew that voice, knew that person, knew that girl. She knew that there would be dark, shoulder-length curls tumbling over each other down to a graceful neck. And those deep, penetrating blue eyes...

Slowly Amanda turned, knowing and dreading in the knowledge that the person bordering her tiny space on the bench would be Rebecca, Michael's Rebecca, his ex-girlfriend.

And as Amanda turned, the beautiful dark-haired girl in the baby blue parka knew that this innocent day at the game would be so no longer.

Now Amanda faced Rebecca, and for them both time had collapsed. All sounds had faded, as had the swirling colors and the sting of the biting cold on their faces. The rejected party faced her replacement. Amanda was looking Rebecca up and down. Rebecca was looking at Amanda likewise. Two bitter sexual rivals focused in on each other until nothing else mattered. Finally a coy smile curled on Rebecca's lip-so She shook her beautiful dark curls with utter disdain. Rebecca, her eyes the only visible betrayal of the jealous pain within her soul, uttered one toneless word:


Time was frozen still, Amanda standing, the rest of the world oblivious. Amanda's hands were buried deep in the pockets of her red parka, eyes burning in anger. She shook the fine chestnut hair that draped across her shoulders in equal disdain. Her blood was singing in her veins, pounding in her head. She leaned cockily onto one hip, thinking to herself with finality, Michael is mine! In that moment, looking down at Rebecca burning in her jealousy, Amanda felt gloriously sexual and superior. She answered with a trace of wickedness, conquest in her voice:


Then there was the matter of sitting down. "Come on, Amanda!" Michael was saying, but then he turned back to Chris and slipped back into the oblivion of their conversation. Nor did he slide over; it was up to Amanda to find a space to sit.

Amanda looked down at the bench seat. The space was very narrow.

Rebecca had both her gloved hands buried between her thighs to keep them warm. The radiantly beautiful girl with the dark curls did not move one iota. Slowly, deliberately, Amanda swiveled her hips into the space with the stadium blanket in her hands. Her left hip bumped firmly into Rebecca's right, and met resistance. Rebecca did not give ground; Amanda leaned a little bit harder and gradually forced Rebecca to slide back along the bench to her left. Rebecca gave out a little grunt. Finally Amanda sat, without disturbing Michael in the least!

It was a little victory for Amanda. She was beaming now, despite her ass pressing down upon the freezing bench. For a moment time returned to its normal pace. Amanda looked over to Michael, turned and brought her right hand gently across his broad shoulders, pressing her right breast through their parkas firmly up against his arm. Amanda was vibrant:

"Hey guys, pass the flask; don't bogart it!"

Amanda grabbed it from Chris when it was finally offered, tilted back her head and took several generous gulps of the orange laced liquid. Afterwards, unthinking, she turned to Rebecca on her left and offered it to her:

"Here, take some of this before they drink it all!"

Rebecca looked at her piercingly and practically snatched the flask from Amanda's hands. Amanda's hazel eyes were meeting Rebecca's, laughing, triumphant, nearly gloating. But those blue eyes held steady; Rebecca was offering no surrender in her gaze. Deep down there was something else there smoldering. The flippancy faded from Amanda's eyes, at the same time the Grand Marnier hit her gut, filling it with a glowing fire.

In a flash, once again, time came to a complete stop.

Suddenly Amanda found herself acutely aware of Rebecca's body-- trim, fit, feminine... sexual! Amanda became uncomfortably aware of this woman who had just until recently, possessed her man's heart. Although sitting beside her now she'd seen Rebecca's beautiful face, the gentle curve of her chest, the sensual fullness of her jeans-clad hips. At that moment, Rebecca pulled the stadium blanket from Amanda's hands. The dark curly-haired woman grabbed it at the ends with her gloved hands, lifted it above her head opening it, and then brought it down across both her lap and Amanda's.

The blanket draped to the ground across their feet. Rebecca pulled it up across her parka, her chest. Amanda stomped her feet up and down and felt the cold fade away, the warmth building, trapped underneath the blanket on their laps and on their legs. A moment later, Rebecca reached across her lap and tucked down the blanket on the other side of Amanda, separating Amanda from Michael, cocooning the two women together.

The effect was private, almost intimate. Amanda and Rebecca sat shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip, thigh to thigh, every movement of one woman transmitted immediately to the other. Amanda continued to wriggle about trying to get warm and the effect on Rebecca was electric.

Michael paid no attention. He and Chris were wrapped up in their game and into their own world.

It was as if Rebecca had locked Amanda and herself into a private room, their own world together underneath the blanket. And that world was getting hotter and hotter by the moment.

The women in their blue and red parkas sat in stony silence pretending to watch the game, but not paying any attention at all. Both had brought their arms underneath the blanket. Amanda's squirming was annoying, so Rebecca rebelled; she began pressing her thigh into Amanda's, hard. Huddled up as they were under the blanket no one could see. Getting the message Amanda pushed back, without a word. Both Rebecca and Amanda sat staring straight ahead, blue eyes and hazel eyes smoldering both but afraid to glance to the side, afraid to acknowledge any further the presence of the other woman each could feel and smell and sense as they rubbed together at the hip and thigh.

Their hearts were beating faster. In her mind's eye Rebecca could see all of the vibrant Amanda, her beautiful face framed with fine chestnut hair, her tight sexy body complete with pert breasts and curving, sensuous ass. Rebecca knew the girl in the red parka now owned Michael's heart, and she hated her for that with all her heart. The knowledge bugged her, as did the British girl's flippancy.

Rebecca was an extremely sensual woman. She played the harp in the college sym- phony, tuned the instrument to her body, and culled it to the point of becoming part of her psyche. All would have been fine with Michael but Rebecca was headstrong, would not surrender her will to Michael, and remained defiantly separate to the end. But Rebecca knew her body, was in touch with her body, better than any other woman around. To her mind, Michael-- in the end-- was the loser. He'd lost because Amanda was Rachel's inferior, second-rate to her as a woman. At that thought Rebecca's right foot quietly stepped on Amanda's .left, and pressed down hard.

To her credit Amanda steeled herself not to flinch. Amanda was a computer science major, a student of mind control. Her mind was not on the pain. It was filled with the image of Rebecca, jealous and hot and squirming beside her on the bench. Amanda came to think that she was joined with Rebecca at the hip and shoulder, connected by sensitive nerve endings. There was nothing else for Amanda, no sounds, no people, perfect anonymity within the crowd. No pain was in her foot, just the soundless, raging jealousy of Rebecca.

After a moment there was a sudden, frosty breeze on her face and Amanda involuntarily shivered. As if in response Rebecca removed her foot from its crushing position on Amanda's toe. Amanda was flooded with relief, but spared not a second before she placed her own foot over Rebecca's, and extracted painful, equal revenge. Rebecca did not stir, as Amanda hadn't. She felt the pressure through her snow boot, accepted the pain with a silent "Good!" under her breath. And then it was over, Amanda's foot was gone.

Had they been somewhere else Amanda sensed that Rebecca would have flung herself upon her at this point and they would now be in the middle of a fight. But how could that happen here? Gradually Amanda became aware of a rustling underneath the blanket, and an insidious tickling that began on her left thigh. Rebecca's bare right hand was caressing her underneath the blanket!

Amanda again did not flinch; she was expecting more-- a pinch, perhaps. But Rebecca's small, feminine hand gently stroked the top of her thigh through her jeans. Then boldly the hand dove down between Amanda's thighs, creeping, exploring the inner, sensitive surface. All the while Rebecca did not turn or acknowledge any of her actions, but continued to pretend to watch the game. Her silent, unseen hand was the aggressor, firm and caressing.

Quickly and smoothly underneath the blanket Amanda reached down and seized Rebecca's wrist to bring an end to it. How dare she touch her like that! When caught, Rebecca's wrist wriggled like a spider in Amanda's gloved hand.

Neither girl moved in her seat. Both Rebecca and Amanda continued to stare straight ahead as around them the crowd surged and roared with the game. What was happening beneath the blanket was their private affair. And Rebecca was smirking, Amanda could sense it!

Suddenly Amanda sat up straight. There was new daring in her posture. She felt the girl in the blue parka turn her head in her direction. Slowly Amanda turned hers.

They locked eyes. There was no surprise on Amanda's face, only the posing of a question behind her hazel eyes. Rebecca's baby blues smoldered with open challenge. The two women were face to face but hiding the fact that underneath the blanket Rebecca's hand was buried between Amanda's jeans-clad thighs ready to molest her. Only, Amanda's gloved hand was holding it there.

Slowly, slowly, there was a rustling from beneath Amanda's side of the blanket. A glove dropped to the concrete beneath her seat, and then Amanda's left hand slid into position across Rebecca's lap and then between Rebecca's jeans-clad thighs.

A wicked smile came into Rebecca's eyes as she felt the hand between her legs. Amanda returned the smirk; her right hand opened and released Rebecca's hand to do its will between her legs. There was a moment of mutual understanding; then both Rebecca and Amanda turned their eyes back to the game. No further eye con- tact passed between the two secret combatants.

And so it came to pass. Lost amidst the fervor and energy of a college football game, two college women, sexual rivals over the love of one man, shook their heads dramatically as if to clear the air, sat back in their seats, the all-covering stadium blanket on their laps, and then plunged their hands into each other's crotches, determined to masturbate the other woman to orgasm-- and ultimately, surrender.

Away from the dueling omen, away from the desperately pulsing fingers atop thick denim underneath the blanket, swirling above and around them was the frenzied crowd. It was expectant now that Yale had taken a surprising first half lead over highly favored Harvard. With a sudden surge by the crowd either Amanda or Rebecca would let loose with a sudden squirm or moan. All was lost amidst the action on the field. It was truly a private battle.

Rebecca was right-handed, Amanda left-handed, both were clad in tight, tight button-down jeans. By definition it was an even match. Both the harpist and the computer programmer had strong fingers. At first their attention centered upon the super-sensitive skin between their thighs, pressing it, stroking rhythmically until both Amanda and Rebecca were hot, flushed in the face beyond the cold and Grand Marnier, moist and hungering for more. Then Amanda could take it no more so her fingers reached for Rebecca's pussy, found her mound and squeezed it between her palm and fingers. The darkly curled beauty demonstrated no emotion, just slipped her hand atop the auburn-haired beauty's mound and squeezed it ever so delicately. Amanda gasped deeply and nearly doubled over with pleasure. Suddenly Michael was staring at her, standing over her and now she was deeply ashamed, her face a deep red.

Michael and Chris had risen with the throbbing crowd at the end of the half and asked the girls if they wanted anything.

"Nothing!" was Amanda's terse reply; Rebecca shook her head only, side to side. Amanda tried to smile wanly and shake him off as though she were just fine, just as Rebecca was stroking the moistening denim over her slit with devastating effect. The two women remained in their seats as their dates passed in front of them down the aisle, silently perched far back on their bench, fingers cupped tight and pressing into their jeans-covered mounds, faces flushed and stony expressions increasingly-- if fleetingly-- distraught as each kneaded her rival's cunt.

In Rebecca's mind Amanda was the stuck-up society bitch; in Amanda's mind Rebecca was the sore loser, the jealous cunt that would never again see just how hot she was getting through the magic of her fingers. But then Rebecca would've wanted to die before letting Amanda know she was touching her just right! Each had been stimulated, but maintained a straight face. Fingers pressing into soft ridges, thumbs pressing into mounds, pussies growing hot! But the thick blue denim made for slow going.

"Fuck this shit!" Rebecca spat out the words. The denim just was too thick, too resistant for either woman to bring matters to a climax. Rebecca brought her hand up to Amanda's beltline and began unbuttoning Amanda's jeans. The button gave way with a tiny, unseen jerk. She unzipped Amanda roughly, deliberately. Amanda returned the favor; after just a few minutes nothing but their panties protected their pussies!

Slender fingers knifed beneath unzipped jeans; both women took in their breath sharply. Amanda's got there first, pressing her fingers down in Rebecca's crotch against cotton panties, probing deeply into Rebecca's cotton-covered cunt. She seized Rebecca's cunt through her panties, grabbed it, squeezed it, and felt Rebecca shudder. She kneaded her mound through the thin fabric, felt her coarse pubic hair pressed beneath it, and felt the crease between her labia moisten.

Rebecca didn't waste any time; she brought her right fingertips above the edge of Amanda's silk panties then tried to thrust them down against Amanda's bare mound. But Amanda pulled back and Rebecca's fingers came down atop the silk panties.

Amanda and Rebecca reached a common rhythm, pumping each other's mound, feeling for each other's clits. Amanda closed her eyes and imagined Rebecca in front of her naked; both of them naked-- straddling this velour-covered bench with their legs spread and their fingers deep inside the other, squeezing and stroking and pulling and pumping until the loser would come in a sudden humiliating gush over the winner's fingers, and arch her back in a horrified, jerking cry. In her daydream Rebecca was riding her hand like it was a bucking bronco, her beautiful dark hair and tits bouncing around soaked in sweat and her face contorted with the effort.

After about ten minutes of this silent catfight Amanda reached up ever Rebecca's cunt and ripped down her panties, pulling them towards her, trapping and pulling out a few of Rebecca's pubic hairs, then quickly hooked her index and middle fingers over Rebecca's bare slit and stuck them upwards into her vagina! Rebecca too had wedged herself up as hard as she could at the back of the bench but could not escape her; as Amanda penetrated her she let out an audible gasp. Now there was nothing in Amanda's way! Suddenly Amanda felt it. Rebecca ripped out the bottom of her panties with her nails, taking some of her pubic hair with it as well. Then three of her fingers slid into Amanda and she moaned.

Was that it, Amanda wondered? Didn't everyone hear her? Frantic she opened her eyes, only to realize that no one was paying attention at all! They were screaming and yelling about what was happening on the field. They couldn't have possibly heard a thing! And then she and Rebecca went at each other with savage intensity.

Now they had each other, fingers thrust into each other's vaginas, and slowly, deliberately, began to fingerbang each other. All this went on unnoticed under the blanket as Rebecca and Amanda tormented each other with unwanted, impending orgasm. Each sensuous coed stroked the other's clitoris, her fingers covered in the other's cunt juices. No pain was elicited with the gentle strokes, just pleasure. And with each movement Amanda's pleasure, and Rebecca's pleasure, approached orgasm. It was incredible to realize that this was going on without anyone noticing. Everyone else was too wrapped up in the game to realize that an equally exciting erotic contest was unfolding right under their eyes. As from the first moment Amanda and Rebecca knew only of each other, trying to block out the pleasure just as each thrust, squeezed and gently pinched the other's tender genitals.

Amanda was caught by the grip in her cunt. She couldn't get away; she was held too tight. Amanda' pulled her ass as far back on the bench as she could trying to make it tough for her but it was not enough, Rebecca's fingers were too long and too strong and she wasn't sure she really wanted to get away, anyway. Just as Amanda could picture Rebecca's cunt Rebecca could feel Amanda's, Rebecca tracing and caressing every detail with her middle three fingers while squeezing her mound with her thumb. Amanda felt totally exposed to the world while this woman raped her with her fingers for stealing her man. It was an exquisite kind of torment as Amanda felt herself getting more and more excited with each of Rebecca's probing pulses in her groin. Amanda wanted to rip her eyes out. But she also wanted to stick her tongue deep in Rebecca's mouth and pull on the hair on the back of her head until her eyes wept with the pain and her cunt drowned in its own juices.

Yet Amanda just sat there stonily staring straight ahead as Rebecca violated her. For the death of her Amanda would not show the slightest of emotions even as deep down inside her gut she was smothering in them! Her only recompense, her only way out, was to fuck Rebecca's lights out 'with her fingers!

Their arms were taut, their bodies were taut, and they were drenched in sweat, their fingers working up and down in their holes. Yet because their bodies were so tense, their fingers so deep, the blanket didn't even ripple. Suddenly Amanda was back in her dream. They were fingerbanging each other, cursing, moaning and screaming faster and faster until...

Amanda felt Rebecca come in a wave of contractions and a torrent of juices across her pulsing fingers, so close to coming herself that she imagined the crowd going crazy, and cried out like some kind of wild animal, the sound lost in the crowd noise. Rebecca came, profoundly and totally, drowned in the waves of her cascading orgasm. Silently she arched her back and involuntarily thrust forward her pelvis, and Amanda finished her off, stroking and squeezing ever so gently knowing that she had finally humiliated her hated rival. Rebecca felt her will to resist draining out between her legs in a sea of come. She closed her eyes and the waves of pleasure overwhelmed her, riding it down to the end. Rebecca went limp, hair matted with sweat.

Amanda remained with eyes open, still staring straight ahead mindlessly at the game. The exquisite feel of Rebecca's rhythmic contractions lingered on her fingers. It seemed as though they went on and on. Finally, Amanda felt Rebecca's fingers withdraw from her pussy, leaving her just at the brink of orgasm.

Stubbornly Amanda swallowed the longing, the pent-up feelings in her groin. She intended to save them for later, for Michael.

After several minutes Rebecca opened her eyes. Though, outwardly with no change in expression, Amanda could sense the depth of Rebecca's loss. In regards to Michael and to Amanda, Rebecca's sexual will had been crushed, like the ice beneath Amanda's snow boots. Slowly, quietly, Amanda and Rebecca re-buttoned their jeans beneath the blanket as if nothing had happened, covered with sweat and stinking of sex.

Michael and Chris had returned during the heat of the battle, but neither woman had noticed. For Rebecca, the rest of the game went by as a blur. For Amanda, victorious in this the most erotic battle of her life, her attention snapped back to the proceedings, and she rejoiced as Yale defeated Harvard in a great upset.

Later, as Amanda walked with Michael and Rebecca with Chris, all four talked about the game as though nothing else had happened. But, as Amanda's hazel eyes crossed Rebecca's blues one last time, both women knew the truth. The day's final, secret victory belonged to Amanda.