The First Blow

The first blow comes out of nowhere and knocks me to the floor. I’m up on my feet, sharp, in seconds, spinning around, fists clenched, guard up like you taught me. I have to land a punch but you’re hiding in the shadows, out of reach. You want me on the edge of fear. The adrenaline racing and flooding my cells. Senses sharpen as the night air cools my brow. I catch a glimpse of movement and react like clockwork: jab, jab, cross… I feel my fist connect with head, and bring my right leg up to take you out at the knee with one sharp kick, just like you taught me. I feel the impact, hear you land, the dull exhalation of breath as you’re winded by ground slamming into lungs. This might be my only chance so I take it now, picking up pace and pushing off hard, legs spongy, not fully my own.

You’re light and fast and I’ll tire before I get to the trees. Chest burning, pushing harder now, I run with all I’ve got. I’m freed from thought, pure animal survival kicking in. The trees are getting closer and I just might make it, every inch of me taut and straining hard. And then your breath on my neck, your hands reaching at me. I duck under your arms and move in close, weaving with the punches, just like you taught me. This is my strength: get in close and under their reach. Your best defence is to attack, you always say. But you know this. You know all my moves, my weaknesses and strengths and pushed to the limits of my response it’s simple for you to take me down – I’ve nothing left to draw on here and you slam me into the ground, the prey captured, ready to be devoured.

In that hunted moment, your lips crush mine and I taste iron. There’s no air in me and you could suck the life right from my mouth, a dizzying reality that I can’t fight. The whiteout coming over me so that I’m nothing but where I feel your hands tearing and clawing at my clothes and skin. No barriers between us now. My legs spread roughly by your knees, the weight of you on top of me and stones and branches printing their crude marks on buttocks, ripping through flesh, the rawness keeping me alive. No words exist but your hands pinning mine into the ground and you drive your cock into me hard, in steady, pounding thrusts and tear the climax from my shuddering limbs, a deep and primal longing, as you cum in howling agony and fill me with your load. Collapsing, giving in. I open more, enveloping, taking you in.

We walk back to the car park, rubbing elbows free of grit, shaking twigs and leaves from hair. My thighs are sticky from our lust, drenched in sweat and shaking wildly from the workout you’ve just put me through. I catch you look my way and lightly smile but the teacher in you returns,
“Your kicking’s really coming on. Keep your stance wide, stay sharp and focused, whatever your opponent throws your way. Same time next week?”
I grin. Best £40 I’ll ever spend.

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