Chapter 4

When I next woke it was several hours later, only this time I was feeling invigorated as opposed to being hung over.

Cheeba and Street were nowhere to be found and I was surprised to see just how excited I was with the idea that they may be over in Rosewood befriending the freckle faced young Jesse.

Other than this, I was still in agony.

I so desperately wanted to be climbing on top of the naked prostrated form of sweet misses Beverly, relishing in the sensation of her warm and wet cunt now accommodating its young black conqueror as it nestled into what would soon be my large black cocks favorite place to be.

So, I threw myself into my work, trying to remember everything LaShawn had taught me as, I repeatedly practiced each move while I tried to imagine every possible scenario.

The first move I had learned was the Muay Thai Body Kick.

Beverly was so much taller than me that I knew I would have to cut her down to size immediately.

I thought I might be able to use this move to cripple a knee or at least distract her with a hard kick to the hips, ribs or arm.

If I could do this kick enough times, I was hoping that breaking her down the rest of the way would be easy.

Move numbers two and three were blocking and slipping and, at least one of these I was excited to practice.

Slipping I wasn’t sure would come in handy as the form of martial arts that Beverly taught seemed to revolve around kicking and punching as opposed to one of the grappling arts like jiu-jitsu.

Number four was the head butt and while I also didn’t want to mess up her pretty face, I thought maybe if I could slam my 14-year-old coconut into her ribs it might catch her by surprise.

In the end, any one thing, no matter how insignificant, just might be the difference between success and failure.

Move Number five was the palm strike as LaShawn said he had seen too many guys lose a fight because they had broken their own hand with a punch.

This he said was just as effective and there was less chance of breaking a hand.

I thought about slamming the heel of my own hand into sweet Beverly’s breadbasket and the look of shock and pain that would be on her face when I struck her as hard as I could right before she crumpled to the ground at my feet.

After that, LaShawn had taught me the Muay Thai Clinch.

I reminded him that I was far too short to get my hands over Beverly’s head, but he said that was my problem.

Most of what he knew was for fighting people of roughly the same size, not for 14-year-old black kids looking to beat a hot suburban MILF into sexual submission.

From here things only got worse, the double leg takedown, I thought, was useless.

Even if I was strong enough to lift Beverly off the ground; more likely she’d knee me in the head and then send me off to dreamland.

Chokeholds, and throat strikes were next, and I practiced these more than the rest of the moves combined.

I knew if I could get in a position to cut off Beverly’s air supply then she would be as good as mine.

I even practiced a couple of 3 Stooges eye pokes; it wasn’t that I wanted to take her eyes out, I’m not that much of a sick fuck, just blind her long enough so I could hit her in the breadbasket with all the force I could muster.

Once the wind was knocked out of her, I could then work on destroying her knees, ankle and elbow joints to the point where she could no longer fight back.

Once she was in so much agony that she was barely able to crawl, I was betting that all those high-minded ideals would go right out the window and there wouldn’t be anything she wouldn’t do to prevent additional pain.

Hair pulling was the next thing I practiced, and this was one place where I thought I had a particular advantage.

While the tiniest fingers in the world couldn’t get a hold of my nappy curls, if I could get my own hands into Beverly’s long blond locks, hell, I might be able to spin her around more times than an old-fashioned record.

I thought I might enjoy walking her like a dog on a leash, my 14-year-old fist entwined in that gorgeous golden hair as I paraded her around the room on all fours crying out and whimpering in both pain and humiliation.

I practiced every move I’d been taught, as many times as I could, until each one of them became second nature to me.

I had just about exhausted myself but there would be no luxury of rest because it was time for me to catch the bus.