Early Access: UNTITLED STORY (draft) by M. Petri (Patreon)

Petri sent me this scene from a story she has in mind for the future. For those of you who are SEXFIGHT level, I leave you the forward exclusively. Keep in mind that it's a first draft of a scene, so he still has some work to do.

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“Places in two minutes Miss Miller!”

Marilyn Miller shot a look at her Hollywood publicist Jill St. James before  sneaking a gulp of whiskey from the flask in her purse. Jill had gotten  her into this mess. It was the last day of shooting on Queen of the West,  an oater with Marilyn playing a saloon gal with a rival played by  redheaded actress Tina Lowell…a woman who happened to be Marilyn’s  biggest Hollywood rival.

Marilyn  hadn’t asked to be a star and she certainly hadn’t asked to be a sex  symbol—Jill had engineered a lot of that. But now that she’d made it,  she damn well wasn’t going to give it up to some cocky redhead like  Tina.

She  stewed as she recalled her meeting with Jill months ago where the  publicist had proposed this deal. “It’s Hot in New York is your biggest  hit” Jill said. “You’ve never gotten more ink, honey. But you know what  hit almost as big? God’s Gift to Men with Tina Lowell. And you know who reps her.”

Marilyn knew. To her Tina was just a cheap imitation out to mine Marilyn’s territory, right down to the mole on her left cheek.

“Janet  came to me last week with a proposal,” Jill said. “This western has  great roles for both of you, and a big fight scene that’ll cause a  sensation. Like it or not Tina showing off her sweaty tits in that  southern gothic made as many headlines as you getting your skirt blown  up last year. People talk about the two of you in the same breath  now—believe me, they’ll pay twice to see you two tussle on the big  screen.”

Marilyn  was used to being pushed by her agent. For all the success the  redheaded firecracker had engineered, she often bullied Marilyn to  tears. “So the deal is I give her half of the limelight and embarrass  myself in front of the whole country?” Marilyn had snapped. But jill St.  James was no shrinking violet and those cool brown eyes had glared at  Marilyn over her trademark cat’s eye sunglasses.

“You  could be a lot more embarrassed, sweetie. This deal will make the both  of us a fortune. And you owe me money to keep this sharp little mouth of  mine shut.”

“Places, everyone!”

The  AD’s bark snapped Marilyn back to the present and she saw Tina glance  at her expectantly from the other side of the stage in her scanty saloon  girl costume. A costumer, hairdresser and makeup artist made last  second adjustments, hovering intently around the star to shape her  famous platinum bob hairdo, arched eyebrows and bright red lipstick  along with the cleavage displayed by her tight green satin costume. The  amount of flesh displayed by their contrasting bar gal dresses had been  the focus of intense negotiations as both actresses maneuvered to outdo  one another and show off more of their bountiful chests, eager both to  please their fans and their expectations for the biggest sex symbols in  Hollywood but also to compete head-to-head with their newfound rival for  the first time on a movie screen. Marilyn was determined not to be  outdone in this arena but even she had to admit that Tina Lowell offered  up stiff competition.

Marilyn  moved reluctantly toward the saloon bar where Tina now waited, the  redhead’s sultry gaze traveling up and down Marilyn’s body as the blonde  approached.

“Continuity?”  the director growled. Fred Sterling was an old hand and Marilyn had  found him utterly unimpressed by her star appeal.

“Miss  Miller back against the bar counter with Miss Lowell up against her,”  the continuity man said, reading from his script. “They struggle and  start pulling hair.”

Tina’s  large green eyes batted lush false lashes at Marilyn as she moved up to  the bar and Marilyn took a second to eye Tina’s figure as the redhead  made room for the blonde. She tried to relax for a second as she eased  her back against the cushioned rail framing the bar and the two women  stared unblinkingly at one another from a foot or so apart.

Even  in the dank, sweaty atmosphere of the set Tina Lowell smelled  delicious, and Marilyn had to avert her eyes for a moment from Tina’s  hungry green eyes, her lush mane of wavy, shoulder length red hair and  creamy décolletage as Tina fearlessly stepped up until she was almost  nose to nose with the famous blonde.

Two  stunt girls had performed the most violent action of the fight and now  Marilyn and Tina had spent the bulk of the day shooting closeup action  where their faces had to be visible. It was tense, intimate work that  put Marilyn in far closer contact with Tina than she was comfortable  with.

“Okay, grip your fingers, you struggle against the bar, then you pull hair nice and tight and switch positions,” Sterling said.

“You  want me to grab her hair like this, over the ear?” Tina said, her voice  an innocent purr as she reached up and gave Marilyn’s fluffy platinum  waves a gentle but firm tug—just enough to feel annoying, Marilyn noted.

“No no, at the back, away from her face. Gotta see your faces,” the director said.

“Like  this?” Marilyn said, her voice a mockery of Tina’s coo as she firmly  gripped a handful of the other actress’s flaming red tresses from the  back and gave them a brief but tough little yank, enough to force Tina’s  eyes to bulge and flash as they bored into Marilyn’s. Both women turned  to listen to the director giving more detailed instructions while  silently and secretly twisting and tugging at each other’s hairdos in  cruel, catty little increments, each pulling just hard enough to punish  her onscreen adversary but not enough for anyone else on the set to  notice.

“Do  you want my body up against hers while we struggle or not until we pull  hair?” Tina asked innocently. Marilyn could already feel the heat of  the redhead’s body radiating against her and just the words “my body up  against hers” sent a little jolt of adrenaline through the blonde.

“Yeah, you pin her against the bar the whole time,” the director nodded.

“Like  this?” Tina said, suddenly gripping Marilyn’s hands, pressing them back  against the rail of the saloon bar and firmly pressing her torso—her  stomach, hips and chest directly up against Marilyn’s.

Somehow  the two sex symbols had managed to avoid this kind of direct body  contact and this obvious comparison of their two competing figures  throughout most of the day’s shooting. Marilyn had known the two  actresses would have to clinch at some point, but she had let herself  get distracted by the details of shooting and let Tina dictate the terms  of this secret confrontation, and she now felt herself flushing, almost  blushing with a mix of anger and embarrassment at the way the redhead  was taking control of the situation.

Even  worse, Tina seemed to take a keen, smug notice of Marilyn’s reaction.  “Don’t worry, dear,” she almost whispered. “Nothing to be embarrassed  about.”

Marilyn’s  eyes flashed at that remark and for a second an electric charge seemed  to pass through both women as they stood in a stiff, wary embrace  against the rail of the bar. Marilyn became keenly aware of the contours  of Tina’s comely body pressing against hers, the swell of her stomach  as she breathed and the cool, sweet breath of the redhead caressing her  face as Tina’s emerald green eyes stared into Marilyn’s. For the first  time she felt herself focusing on her rival’s bosom matching up  flawlessly against her own as Tina fearlessly pressed her top into  Marilyn’s. She had forced herself to sit through God’s Gift to Men after Jill had warned her about how Tina was stealing her thunder in  the southern gothic, and she well recognized that the redhead’s perfect  breasts easily rivaled her own. The weight and firmness of those two  porcelain glands bulging over the top of Tina’s saloon gal outfit  resisted the pressure of Marilyn’s equally creamy pair enough to force  the blonde’s breasts upward so that both women’s ample treasures  threatened to pop out of their plunging necklines—and the image of that  outcome, of their bare breasts emerging and touching one another’s  supple flesh unprotected, sent a shiver through Marilyn.

Before  she knew it, the director was calling action. Tina’s green eyes  flashed, Marilyn felt a yank on her hair, and she instantly retaliated.  Tina’s gorgeous face twisted into a snarl as it filled Marilyn’s range  of vision, and her body thrashed against Marilyn’s as the two women  struggled against the bar.

Marilyn  didn’t have to do any acting as she and Tina worked out the catfight  choreography. Her fishnet stockings gripped Tina’s and she found herself  yanking the other woman so close that they were cheek to cheek, Tina’s  dark blue lipstick dangerously close to Marilyn’s bright red lip gloss  as the two women groaned and squealed in each other’s arms. Tina’s  thighs, surprisingly powerful, clamped onto Marilyn’s, and the blonde  wrenched her upper body against the redhead’s as she attempted to flip  their positions and pin Tina to the bar rail.

The  two bombshells were spitting, panting with effort, anger and a raw  excitement Marilyn had never experienced before. She had scuffled before  with other women but never with anyone as sultry and threatening as  Tina Lowell. The redhead’s groans and gasps indicated a matching mixture  of breathless, animal excitement and fury, and Marilyn wanted nothing  more than to whisper or snarl her hatred into Tina’s ear.

She  had the redhead pinned before she knew it, and she managed to force her  head into position in time to see Tina’s expression of shocked surprise  at the way she was being manhandled by the blonde. Marilyn jammed her  upper body into Tina’s and she felt a jolting sensation as two hard nubs  of aroused flesh at the center of the redhead’s breasts somehow made  their presence felt through four layers of material between them and  Marilyn’s. For an electrified second the two women locked eyes and  Marilyn realized her own sensitive nipples had become as hard as bullets  as if in response to the two stiff nubs jutting out at her through the  material of Tina’s top. The redhead’s face looked flushed and Marilyn  was grateful for the pancake makeup masking both of their features as  she had no doubt their faces were both beet red at the sudden, intimate  development in the struggle.

“Cut!”  the director’s voice suddenly shattered the moment and Marilyn had to  force herself to stop thrashing against Tina, her fingers still locked  onto the redhead’s lush mane of hair and Tina’s still twisted into her  platinum blonde tresses. “Great stuff, girls! Print that!”

Marilyn  and Tina stared at one another in shock as their primal struggle found  itself blocked by the walls of civilization. Marilyn bared her teeth,  still panting, and she saw Tina’s pouting lips curl in an answering,  hungry snarl.

“I have to have her,” the blonde thought to herself.