10
Bobby
Bad News
Wednesday morning a few weeks after she started classes, I wake with my usual Kit-induced morning wood. It’s hard work training with her late at night. She wears those shorts. She lifts those legs. Her shoulders flex with power, and I have to excuse myself to the bathroom every time she says her goodbyes in the dark parking lot.
We only see each other for an hour every other day, but I want more. So much more. I haven’t touched her the way I want to since the night at the club. I haven’t kissed her. I haven’t held her against my body or breathed in the scent of her hair.
Okay, well, I’ve sniffed her hair a few times, but sneaking a sniff isn’t the same as slow dancing and breathing her deep into my lungs.
She’s so hot and cold at classes, but not in a cruel way. She wants me, she doesn’t want me. She’s feeling brave, then she kicks her own ass and stops staring at me.
She’s confused, I get it. She’s Shy Kit, after all, and her life isn’t all roses. I know I’d be an added complication for her already busy schedule, so I treasure our one hour every other night, and I don’t ask for more.
Lord help me if she friend-zones me for life, but for now, I’ll make it work.
Friend or not, I still wake up touching my dick and thinking about her. I’ve seen chicks train a million times before, but it’s never, not once, affected me the way watching Kit does. Forgetting for a second the sexy shorts she wears, or the boob hugging tanks that almost leave me weeping, I focus on the way she trains.
She doesn’t complain, she doesn’t argue, and she tries – and exceeds – my every expectation. I knew fighting would suit her, but she has a natural talent that even I couldn’t have guessed.
Thinking about her fighting isn’t helping my morning issue, so I toss my sheets aside, climb out of bed, and walk to the shower.
During the day, I’ve been staying busy to keep thoughts of her at bay, but now I welcome them. If I’m going to do this alone, I’m going to enjoy the view burned to the backs of my eyelids.
I flip the water on and wait for it to heat, and stepping in, I let the stinging spray pound onto my always sore muscles. Steam fills the bathroom, and closing my eyes, I’m instantly met with visions of my warrior princess standing with me in the water. In my mind, her soft breasts are pressed against my chest, she’s smiling, her eyes are dancing.
I grab my dick in one hand and hold tight, sliding it up and down; I imagine it’s her hand. Her velvety soft hand holding me. In my mind’s eye, I’m bent low and suckling her nipples. My mind expertly conjures the soft sounds of her pleasure filled whimpering, and sweeping her up within seconds, I slam her against the wall. Pushing my cock in deep in one smooth move, my mind imagines her panting breath in my ear and her scratching nails on my back. No need for condoms in my fantasies, or much foreplay, I guess.
I’d give anything to feel the real thing. I want to know how she feels, how tight, how warm, how soft. I bet she feels like… heaven.
In my head, I slam in hard and press her against the wall with every thrust. The sounds she makes are like pure sugar zinging through my frenzied blood. In my mind, she breaks down into a sobbing orgasm, and tightening my hand to simulate her heat clenching around me, with a short growl, I come, too.
I stand there, panting and tingling and trying to catch my breath, and as soon as the reality of an empty shower with my come dribbling along the glass snaps back to focus, I bite off a curse.
I want the real thing more than I want my next breath.
With nothing else to be done to solve my still throbbing cock, I flip the water to cold and let it shred my body.
Cold showers fucking suck.
* * *
A few hours later, Aiden and I are back on the mats working on submission drills. Not everything we do is on our feet. In fact, we spend maybe half our time in this gym on our backs.
Understanding the importance of training for the ground as much as our feet, we work our Jitsu every single day. Aiden is a million times better at it than I am, but I work with him – because I demand to work with the best. I might command respect at stand-up combat, but if my opponent is better at BJJ or takedowns, then my feet aren’t gonna save me.
The guys and I have been formally training and grading since we were kids. With belts in Kyokushin karate, Judo, and Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, we all have a favorite that we excel in, and where we lack, another brother helps pick up the slack.
Every fight I’ve won, comes on the back of all four of us and the hard work we all put in.
“Dude! Concentrate.” Aiden snaps his elbow across my jaw and drags me back to reality. Flipping me over and securing his forearm around my throat, he cuts off my oxygen before I have time to react.
“Fuck!”
“What the hell? You let me have that.” He rolls over onto his knees. “You need to concentrate or Thomlassen’s gonna own you in December.”
“Thomlassen is a pussy. Let’s go again.” He positions himself in front of me so we’re on our knees face to face, and slapping hands, we start again.