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Okay, apparently sweeping is not her strong suit, and she prefers to start on the floor. Just like me.
My promise to go easy on her was nothing but a half-hearted attempt to mask my curiosity about her abilities. She nods, and a smile is dancing at the corners of her lips when Raymond calls for the final session to start.
As we begin to grapple, it becomes evident that my assumptions about her prowess were far from accurate. She moves with a fluidity that belies her strength, and her control is impeccable.
Usually, I’d have no problem keeping my cool and focusing on the athletic aspect of this encounter, but it proves to be impossible with her. Her body feels oddly familiar under my touch, constantly sliding away and freeing herself from any hold I try to maintain. I’ve rolled with a lot of women, but none were as skilled as her.
And none of them ever felt this good in my hands. Despite the intimate contact that is inherent to this sport, I never perceived these encounters as anything sexual—until today. The alluring way in which this girl moves her body around mine makes it almost impossible for me to focus. I’m bathing in her sweet scent and try not to be distracted by the touch of her firm boobs against my chest as she slides up along my body.
But it’s too late.
I feel a shift in the dynamic between us as she fights her way out of my grip. Her technique is solid, her movements precise, and it's clear that she's well-versed in this sport.
And then it happens.
She transitions with a swiftness that takes me off guard. Her legs wrap around my head, and suddenly, I'm ensnared in a deadly triangle choke—with my head locked between her legs. Her thighs squeeze together with a vice-like grip, locking around my neck as her foot presses against my hip. The sensation is immediate, a constriction that threatens to cut off my oxygen supply, while my face is pushed into her crotch with surprising force.
My heart races as I assess my options, convinced that I can find a way out. I grit my teeth, pushing against her thighs, my fingers searching for an opening.
But the more I struggle, the more I realize the gravity of my mistake. Her technique is flawless, her pressure unyielding. With each passing second, the darkness encroaches on the edges of my vision, and the realization sets in–I'm trapped.
In a last-ditch effort to salvage my dignity, I raise my hand and tap against her thigh, the sound a muted admission of defeat. She releases her hold in an instant, and as I gasp for air, she smirks down at me, her voice dripping with playful mockery when she says: “That was almost too easy.”
Confusion swirls in my mind, mingling with a newfound respect. I underestimated her, and gravely so.
With a rueful smile, I nod in acknowledgment, still catching my breath. “Fine, I’ll admit it, I underestimated you.”
“Most men do,” she mutters, and her expression darkens for a moment as if a shadow was cast over her. There is a sadness on her face that wasn’t there before, which makes me think that there is a lot more behind those words than she lets on.
She clears her throat and scoots over, while I get up to sit next to her. I’m still feeling lightheaded after almost losing consciousness between her legs. And of course, she notices.
“You should have tapped sooner,” she reprimands me. “I was beginning to worry.”
“I’m fine,” I lie, blinking as I fight to at least appear fine. “That was a fluke. I’ll know better next time.”
“Next time?” she asks. “I don’t think we have—”
The sensei cuts her off, “Okay guys, that was it for the day—for those who want to leave.” He’s standing in the middle of the room, surrounded by people drenched in sweat and the sound of heavy breathing filling the air. “This was today’s last class, but I’m still gonna be here for a while, so please, stay for another roll or two if you want.”
My eyes find hers in an instant, and she nods before I can say a word.
“Looks like you’ll get another chance right now,” she says. “If you’re up for it?”
She doesn’t even try to hide the taunt in her voice, and the way she looks at me is tempting me more than it should.
“Oh, most definitely,” I say, as I place myself in position.
I will not go easy on her this time.
Chapter 3
Madison
I don’t know what has gotten into me, but I know I don’t want to leave yet—and I don’t want him to leave either.
“Five minutes?” he asks as he sets his watch.
“Should be enough,” I retort, throwing him a defiant look.
