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The tension in the air was intense as we stepped into the octagon ring. The crowd roared, their voices blending together into an overwhelming chorus. The cage door closed, enclosing us in the arena of battle. Adrenaline surged through my body, sharpening my senses and heightening my awareness.
This was my first real match after I was released from prison, and I liked that I felt just the same way I did before I left.
The bell rang, signaling the beginning of the fight. We circled each other, both searching for an opening. Feints and jabs were exchanged as we tested each other's defenses. The crowd's cheers mingled with the sound of heavy breaths and scuffling feet.
“You can do this logan,” I heard Kayla's voice echoing from the crowd.
With a lightning-quick movement, my opponent lunged forward, launching a fierce combination of strikes. I managed to evade his blows, slipping and countering with calculated precision. The audience gasped, their excitement building with every exchange.
Sweat trickled down my forehead, stinging my eyes as the fight intensified. We traded blows, each strike echoing with power. The sound of bone meeting bone reverberated through the cage. The fight became a dance of calculated aggression and strategic defense.
“I am going to rip your bones apart, you will beg for mercy,” My opponent said, it was all trash talk, one I recognized much too well. Through the chaos of battle, I could hear the faint cheers of Kayla, my biggest supporter. Her voice rose above the crowd, a beacon of encouragement. Her unwavering belief in me pushed me to dig deeper, to fight harder.
As the rounds progressed, fatigue settled in, but my determination remained unyielding. I knew this fight would test my mettle, both physically and mentally. Blood dripped from my nose, my muscles screamed with exhaustion, but I refused to let it break me.
With every strike, I could see the weariness in my opponent's eyes. He had underestimated me, just as many had before. As the final moments of the fight approached, I summoned every ounce of strength I had left.
A well-placed hook landed flush on my opponent's jaw, sending him crashing to the platform. The crowd erupted into a frenzy, their cheers blending with the deafening roar in my ears. Victory was within my grasp, a testament to my resilience and undisputed spirit.
“Knockout” The crowd cheered on.
As the referee raised my hand in triumph, I couldn't help but glance toward the stands, searching for Kayla's smiling face. There she was, standing and cheering, her eyes filled with pride. Her support had carried me through the toughest moments of this fight, and it meant the world to me.
She meant the world to me.
The adrenaline slowly subsided, leaving me with a sense of accomplishment and a newfound appreciation for the sport that had become my refuge. As I exited the cage, I couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for the opportunity to prove myself once again. This victory was not just for me; it was a symbol of redemption.
I walked toward Kayla, and she threw her arms around me in a hug.
“I am so proud of you,”She muttered.
I smiled, “I have something for you,’’
She smiled at me in anticipation as I pulled my hands in my pocket and brought out a rectangular box, I opened it to reveal a small golden necklace in it.
“Logan!” she exclaimed “This is so beautiful,” she looked at it more closely. “Wasn’t this mum’s,”
“Yes,” I replied, I wasn’t used to being this romantic kind of guy. It was still the same pendant, but I had the other parts changed. It was the only thing my real parents left me.
“I can’t accept this.”
“Yes, you can, I want you to have this, I lifted her hair up and put the necklace around her neck.
“It is beautiful,” I paused.
“You are so beautiful.”
“Thank you,” she responded with a smile, “So Mr. Mad boulder, what is my reward for staying through the fight,”
I grabbed Kayla's hand and lifted her up from the bench. I wasn't done with her yet, and I was going to show her just how much as I held her hand, leading her toward the public toilet. She willingly followed me. The public toilet was spacious and empty as we entered and locked the door behind us. I pushed her against a counter, and she looked at herself in the mirror, placing her hands on the stall.
I lowered her jeans, and instantly got on my knees as my tongue gently touched her wet core. She whimpered and moaned as my tongue explored her inner depths.
I ate her like a starved man, hungry and desperate to taste her.
I could see her flushed face reflected in the mirror as I pleasured her, and she bit her lower lip with her eyes closed. I craved more of her taste, wanting to savor her juices, so I buried my face between her legs, passionately devouring her, pleasuring her with my tongue, and stimulating her clit. She gasped and moaned, screaming my name as I brought her to climax with my oral ministrations.
"I want more," she said, breathless, and I grabbed her thighs, flipped her around and lifted her onto the counter and spread her legs.
