Chapter 2

She was hoping he would be waiting, but for several nights was disappointed. Cautious, maybe. Or maybe she would never see him again. Her spirits sagged further each night her trip home was uneventful. She found herself getting horny, but not wanting another fight with one of the amateurs. She took special interest in Jimmy Lester, a good looking senior who was learning fast. He wasn't in her class, but the large teenage boy's club worked on the next mat over. He was a little old for Debbie. His instructor said he was a "good kid."

She had gone over and over that evening. She couldn't get it clear in her mind. Something strange and perverse was going on inside her head. Sex and violence. The American problem. Her inhibited youth, the revelation of her marriage, the frustration of her widow life. But an overwhelming desire for another round. And she had shaved her whole groin area, remembering his hairless body.

Tonight, she had caught herself about to deliver a really damaging blow to one of the women in her beginners class who radiated sexuality. As though she was jealous of her blatant availability. Walking home in the cool evening, she felt tiredness instead of anticipation. He wasn't coming back. He had just been playing with her, looking for a free piece of ass. Maybe she should go out with one of the guys who were always sniffing around. Even as the thought occurred to her, she knew the idea was foolish. She wanted only him. That wild, violent, incredible experience.

Then she saw him, no mask tonight, but the same black outfit. Standing in the same place. A BMW instead of the van. Waiting for her. A bloom of excitment, of anticipation changed her mood instantly, and she felt alive again. As she neared him, he opened the door of the car, and she got in wordlessly. The tension was thick enough to cut as he drove toward the warehouse section of the city. She noticed the nameplate on the dashboard, Peter Farrell. In profile, as she studied him, there was calm concentration as he shifted gears, making several turns. She thought he was about her age.

The car stopped in front of a decrepit looking building, but there were no broken windows as many around it had. He came around and opened the door, and she got out, feeling somehow safe, unthreatened. He walked ahead of her to a door and opened it with a key from the same ring as the ignition. He held it open for her. She looked in his eyes, but got no hint of what might be in store. Just as on that first night, he was simply waiting for her to decide. Her choice.

She entered and he closed the door behind them. The massive open space was warm, and soft light illuminated a finished oak floor, with a large exercise mat directly in the center of the halo of light from overhead. She got a sense of other rooms around. A faint smell of incense, with none of the underlying stench of the dojo. It was very quiet.

He walked to the mat and faced her. His eyes locked to hers, and she felt the tension grow, her stomach tingling, the beginning of excitement down in her cunt. Peter. It was a good name for him. His hand went to the neck of his pullover, and with a sharp tear ripped it from his body. The sudden sound made her suck in a little breath. He stood gazing at her, his handsome face still showing no emotion, his powerful torso pale in the light.

He had loved it as much as she had. He wanted to do it again. She would get him this time, knowing his skill, prepared for a more difficult fight. And she wanted the sexuality, the raw emotion. She imitated his action, ripping away the long sleeved blouse she had just bought. Her bra fastened in front, and she pulled it away roughly, popping a button. She could see his eyes on her breasts. Her ears were roaring.

More, more. She slipped out of her tennis shoes, and pushed down her pants and panties in one quick movement. She saw his eyes widen as her now bare cunt came into view. As she stepped out of them, he unbuckled his belt, and stripped himself quickly. She strode to the mat as he finished, and they stood staring at each other's nudity. Her hands were hanging loosely, and he rotated to keep her directly in front of him as she moved. She felt his stare, taking in her long legs, her naked, puffy pussy lips, her lush, full tits. Her narrow waist and flat stomach made a carnal fantasy, she was sure. She felt a surge of pleasure in her exposure of her nakedness.

His wide shoulders sloped nicely to his own muscled hips, without the flare of hers. His cock was already hard. He could control his face, but his excitement showed in the thick tube pulsing at her. She could feel the adrenaline, the cream flowing inside her vaginal tunnel. She fought to keep her face as expressionless as his, but her breathing seemed to thunder in the quiet, cavernous room.

But still, he waited. Her choice. Her option to fight. She began to circle him, and he assumed his prepared position. She forced her mind into the hunting mode, becoming a stalking lioness, eying her prey, ready to strike. Always on balance, her weight on the balls of her feet. She feinted twice, watching his responses carefully. She couldn't see even a slight flinch. She danced in and swung a leg, but short of real striking range. It fooled him, and he tried to sweep her again. As he did, she lept to the side and caught him in the ribs with her foot.

He rolled with it, and she saw a small smile. But she knew it had an effect. She circled again, and made a pass with her hands chopping in clockwise defensive motion, and started a kick short of the real hitting zone. He reacted and she went for a roll to the side, aiming for the spot on his ribs she had already struck, but he had seen it coming, slipped it, and caught her with an instep in the back.

She had half expected it, and pivoted quickly to deliver a firm instep of her own into his kidneys, feeling it catch him hard. But even as she landed, his shoulders swung and she felt her mind blur as he chopped her ribs. She rolled back to her feet, gasping now, still feeling even. He showed no pain, but she knew the blow to his kidney had hurt him. She circled, waiting for its pain to dull his reaction, and for her mind to clear. But suddenly he attacked.

His charge got him into her reactive punch with the heel of her hand, but he let it glance off his chest and pinned her arm to his side, and they twisted to the mat. She felt the heel of his foot pummel her solar plexus, and her eyes saw stars again. Pain radiated out. He held her with a leg over her abdomen, her arm still captured. It was a stalled position, and their eyes were locked as both gasped with their exertion.

Suddenly he rolled on top of her, released her arm, and locked his mouth to hers, holding her hands. She felt his tongue inside her, and passion flared up and down her spine. She kissed back, sucking hungrily. Their bodies were sweating hard, and the moistness made the contact of their skin slippery and exciting. Briefly, she wanted to go with their passion, now, quickly. But she wasn't finished.

She struck him near the kidney again with her knee. He rolled over her, and she twisted to her feet, but he was already there, and swung a leg toward her ribs. She took the blow on her arm, and countered to his knees, but he slipped to the floor, sweeping toward her legs. She tried to stomp him, but missed, and felt the foot land on her lower stomach, forcing the air from her lungs. Damn. He was too good, too strong. His leg finally whipped back against her ankles, and she went down with a thud.

She lay there, defenseless now, and saw him crawling toward her. His mouth was open, his chest working hard. At least she had made him strain. Ooooh, I'm ready now, she thought. You have won, you own me. He pushed her legs apart and buried his head in her cunt. Through the haze of pain and oxygen deprivation, the thrilling contact of his tongue on her clit was like a lightning bolt. Vicky Pleasance screamed into the room, surrendering to the rapture and pain coursing through her.

His mouth surrounded her slit, the tongue driving through her foaming cuntlips up to the stiff love button. She could feel his desperate breathing as he seemed to try to devour her, and she wrapped her hands in his hair, pulling his mouth into her, while her legs wrapped around his shoulders. "Oh my god, oh my god, eat me, eat me. Ooooooh yes." Her eyes stung with perspiration dripping into them, as she felt the flush of passion add to the heat from her strained body. Dimly, she heard him moaning as he made her pussy soar with euphoric sensation.

He was driving her, sucking and tonguing so hard she felt unable to resist the climax hurtling toward her. Her husband had been willing to eat her cunt, but without the hair the sensations were both more intimate and sharper. It was so fast, yet seemed to join with their fighting in a totality of accumulating desire, to become a long dance of sexual need. "I'm coming, I'm aaaaaaah cummming." The orgasm ripped over her, making her hips frantically hump to his face, trying to help his hungry mouth increase her pleasure. She was soaring in her release, shaking her head as he kept her rolling pleasure keening. Cream was pouring out of her twat as she felt his sucking mouth swallowing her in a white blaze.

It boiled and boiled, even as her hips stopped moving, and her legs relaxed. His mouth was slowing down, but still felt like a glove wrapped on her pubic bone, his tongue moving gently on her clit. Her eyes snapped open suddenly, as she realized she had done nothing to satisfy his passion. His prick had been hard during their fight, and she knew he must be craving his own satisfaction. She flipped her head over his body toward his hips, and felt him roll to his back.

The stiff manmeat was hard and jumping. She pulled her pussy away from his mouth and took the thick flesh between her lips, closing on the pear shaped head. Her tongue licked at the tiny slit and tasted salty pre cum, and she sucked as hard as she could, letting it sink into her throat, swallowing and gasping as she did it. Even as she urgently enclosed the cock in her mouth, she wiggled around to kneel between his hard muscled legs. She heard him groaning with desire. Her climax was still echoing through her, and the taste and feel of his tool kept her tingling.

She let her teeth scrape the blood vessels on the side of his tube as her mouth came up and she sucked frantically for air. Pain and pleasure. Then she concentrated on the head, where she knew nerves would react fiercely. After several small movements of her lips over the hot skin there, she sunk it once again all the way inside her throat. She felt his hips jump, and suddenly pressure seemed to bloom the member. She came back up to the head, and caught his eyes. They were wide and tense. He's going to shoot, she thought. Oh hurry.

She pistoned again hungrily, and suddenly felt him hump up and freeze. She raised her head to enclose only the tip of the hard shaft, and felt a stinging burst of hot jism go over her tongue and down her throat. She swallowed wildly, her stomach thrilling as she tasted his essence. He humped his hips again, and another shot filled her mouth. As she swallowed, she let the spitting cock out, and wrapped her titties around it, looking down at another gush of white goo that popped up to her neck, then dripped down to streak over her nipples.