8 comments/ 23541 views/ 2 favorites Sunday Night Fight By: ignatz555 I've come to look forward to Sunday nights and this last Sunday was certainly one of those nights. I've been a martial arts student and part-time instructor for many years, but until recently, circumstances have kept me out of the Dojo except for the occasional visit. Fortunately some changes in my life lately have freed up some of my time. Mr. and Mrs. B, my Sensei and his wife, have kindly allowed me to use the school to practice on Sundays because there are no classes then. The quiet and solitude while working out can be very therapeutic after the stress of daily life. Some of the advanced students know that I'll be there on a Sunday night and sometimes stop in. I always enjoy working with them. I had just warmed up on Sunday when the door opened and Sandy popped in. Sandy, with her husband Harry, are two of the school's advanced students. They're a forty something couple with two girls. They're both friendly, likeable and good students. Sandy is clearly the better student of the two. Harry is small, stocky, and built like a fire plug. He's pretty strong but he's not built for speed or flexibility. High kicks are completely out of the question. Sandy is the taller of the two. She has good coordination and learns fast. Sandy also has a pretty respectable figure for a forty something girl. And it's set off by two outstanding features. She has a mane of luxurious auburn hair. You know, the kind of hair that shampoo ads promise you if you just buy their product. And she has a terrific rack. I considered Harry to be a lucky guy. Sandy asked, "Do you mind if I work out with you?" I said, "Not at all, please come in." Now when I'm alone, I usually work out in just my karate pants and a tee shirt. Sandy saw this and asked, "Oh, Is it casual Sunday?" I said, "Sure, there's no formal class, wear whatever's comfortable." She came out of the locker room a few minutes later wearing her karate pants, a sports bra that was pushed to it's limit, and one of those eighties style half t-shirts with no collar or midriff. She was making it hard to stay focused. Harry was definitely a lucky guy. We worked on some kata, a series of moves in a set pattern. Then she asked me if I could help her work on a self defense technique that she was having trouble with. We went through the routine slowly a few times. I was a little puzzled as to why she was having trouble with such a simple technique. She asked me to try it a little faster to see if she had it right. When I came at her, our feet got tangled (I really think that she tripped me), and we both went down in a heap. For a few seconds, we were nose to nose on the floor and when I looked up, I saw bright green eyes staring intensely at me. For just a second, I thought she was going to kiss me. She quickly jumped up, giggled, and apologized, but it really looked like she was flirting with me. She has never done anything like that before. I told myself that I was imagining it. Then she said that she really wanted to do some sparring. I am always reluctant to do that when there's no one else in the building, in case of an accident. I told her that. She started pleading with me, "Please, I need the practice, and Harry's not a very good sparring partner." So I said, "Alright, but only light contact and we wear hand pads." She said Okay and we moved out to the middle of the floor and bowed to each other. We faced each other for a moment, and then started to circle slowly with one or the other throwing a false punch or kick. She moved in a little too close and I tapped her with a shot to the ribs. She called "your point" and suddenly yanked off her little t-shirt. I didn't realize we were "strip-sparring." I was momentarily stunned when I saw that sports bra straining to contain those two cantaloupes and she instantly hit me on the side of the head. I said "Hey, No fair distracting your opponent." But she pointed out that we hadn't set any rules at the start, so she had scored a point and I had to lose the t-shirt. I conceded her point, pulled the shirt off, threw it directly at her head, and hit her the instant she ducked. I said "You did say, "no rules", my point." She gave me a nasty look and then stepped out of her karate pants, and took a defensive stance wearing just her underwear. A moment later, I let myself walk into a punch to the ribs, just to keep things even. I pulled off the uniform pants and we squared off once more, both in just our underwear. We both moved around slowly for a moment and then she took a shot at my head. I went underneath and hit her dead center just beneath those two big melons. "Point" I yelled. Now I really thought that she was playing a little game of chicken and would probably quit then. She did hesitate for a moment like she was trying to decide whether to ante up or quit, but then she slid the sports bra up and over her head. Her breasts were superb, full and firm, without a hint of sag. I really wanted to just gaze at them for an hour or so, but I was sure that if I let her see me staring she would try to capitalize on it. After she got that first easy point, I wasn't going to let her have an easy win. So I stepped back, bowed, and resumed a fighting stance as if I hadn't even noticed. We both circled each other looking for an opening, neither one wanting to give up that final point. I moved to the right and faked a little stumble. She took the bait, moved in quick, and threw a kick at my side. I was hoping that she would do just that. I caught the kick, swept her other leg, tagged her on the way down, and was able to catch her arm so she didn't bounce the back of her head off the floor. I called "Point and Match." The look on her face as she went from vertical to horizontal was priceless. I offered her my hand to help her up, not really sure what she would do next. She stood up, said "That was a sneaky move, but it was a good match," then she bent over slightly, slid her panties off, and stood up naked as the day she was born. Her bikini area was neatly trimmed into a nice little triangle and had the same auburn hair as on her head. The carpet did match the drapes. She came over in front of me, dropped to her knees, and said "To the winner, goes the prize." Then she pulled down my shorts, wrapped those big breasts around my rod, and started to slowly stroke back and forth. She worked at her task like an old pro, slowly but steadily going faster and taking longer strokes. I held back as long as I could and at just the right moment, she pulled back, letting me squirt all over her face, hair and those enormous boobs. She stood up and little white droplets fell on her breasts and trickled down her cleavage. She ran the tip of her index finger across the top of her breasts,wiping off a big droplet. Then she put her finger deep in her mouth, and drew it out very slowly and deliberately. She looked down and said "Oh dear, we should wash that off." Then she took my hand, and headed for the locker room showers. By this time I had a number of questions going through my head, not the least of which was what had come over this girl. She must have guessed what I was thinking because on the way to the showers she started to explain. She really was happily married and Harry was a wonderful guy. The problem was that Harry has a very small penis which he was very self conscious about. "He's also really intimidated by the twins," she said, pointing at her ample boobs. Put together, they made sex with Harry almost impossible. I pointed out that she has two girls. She said that she had to get him falling down drunk both times and he was so sick for the next three days that she swore she would never do that again. They tried therapists with no real success, and she had even gotten him a copy of the Kama Sutra for his birthday. As a surprise, she even tried hiring a high priced call girl to teach her some tricks to try to get him aroused. That idea completely backfired. The more she learned, the more she wanted to try and explore. She really was a good student. But as she discovered more of her own sexuality, she made him feel even more intimidated. He just couldn't seem to work past his inhibitions and she was as horny as an alley cat in heat. Then recently he came to her and said that he wanted her to find a lover. "He suggested you" she said. "Your husband TOLD you to seduce me?" I asked. I could hardly believe what I was hearing. She answered "Well, he knows that I like you, he trusts you, and he knows that you've dealt with a lot since your ex-wife's suicide attempt." Now I was really shocked. Only a very small group of people knew the truth about my ex's "breakdown," and I knew none of them would just casually let that information get out. "How could he possibly know about that?" I asked. "His old college roommate works in the emergency room billing office. They meet for lunch once a week and he's heard Harry mention your name. So when he saw your ex's name on an invoice, with your name listed on the insurance, he put two and two together." They had guessed correctly. My ex just couldn't deal with the split and had nearly killed herself with a bottle of pills. Facing reality was not something she did very well. Although we were separated, the final papers hadn't been signed, so my lawyer had suggested that I keep a low profile until my ex recovered enough to get the help she needed. Seeing me openly dating was likely to push her over the edge. Sandy continued to explain while pulling me into the shower and starting to lather me up. "We both need someone. I need a partner to keep me happy, and you need someone who doesn't require a commitment. AND we both need to be discrete." I thought about what she was suggesting while she used her tube of body wash like massage oil, rubbing me up and down and scrubbing me clean all at once. "I'll understand if you're uneasy with this idea, but please will you consider being my boy toy? You're already here on a Sunday night anyway." I'll admit that this whole idea, especially that fact that she had planned this out as calmly as if she was making a shopping list, took me a few minutes to wrap my head around. She had the common sense and rationale of an intelligent forty year old, and the sex drive of a teenager. But I couldn't argue with her logic, and it has been a bit of a dry spell for me. I reached up, grabbed a handful of her soaking wet hair, shoved her hard up against side of the shower stall, and slid two fingers up inside her snatch before she even had time to react. Her eyes went wide and her mouth just hung open for a minute. Then she let out a long moan. She pushed my head down into her breasts and I began to run the tip of my tongue around her nipples. She whispered in my ear, "I knew that you'd say yes. I just knew it! Oh God, don't stop." I worked my tongue around those beautiful boobs for a few minutes. Then started down across her belly and headed for her crotch. As I started to move my hands down around her hips, she stopped me and said, "Don't let go of my hair. Pull it harder. It makes me hornier." I didn't think that she could get much hornier, but I yanked on her hair and she squealed with delight. I worked her crotch with two fingers on the inside and my tongue on the outside. I slipped my pinky underneath her and probed her anus until her breath was coming in short gasps. I could feel her hips heaving and her belly twitching and I knew what was coming. I pulled back just a second before her wetness came gushing out as she orgasmed. I fondled her breasts until she caught her breath. She recovered quickly. As soon as she caught her breath, she grinned mischievously, grabbed my head in both her hands, kissed me hard on the lips and dropped to her knees. She started out using both hands to fondle my erection. Then she slowly and deliberately ran her tongue up and down the large vein along the bottom of my penis. If it wasn't rock hard before she started, it certainly was after that. She placed her lips around the head and circled the tip with her tongue. She climbed onto the seat built into the side of the shower stall and guided me toward her waiting crotch. As she started pulling me in, I grabbed her ankles and placed them on my shoulders, folding her almost in half. As I entered her, I eased in very slowly. Her eyes rolled up and all I could see was the whites. I stopped just short of going in all the way. I waited for what seemed like a half an hour, until she blinked and her eyes focused again. She whispered to me. "Oh God, I've never had it in that deep before." With a quick thrust of the hips, I drove it in that last little bit. Her mouth went wide open, but no sound came out. Her lips squeezed my erection like it was in a vice. She begged in my ear. "Please go slow. It feels SOO good! Go as deep as you can. Split me in half. I don't care if I can't walk for a week. Just DON'T STOP!" I worked in and out, slowly at first, then gradually faster and harder until I was slamming her up against the shower stall wall. Her lust was insatiable and the whole time, she pleaded. "Harder, Oh God, Fuck me Harder." I knew that I couldn't hold out much longer when I felt her starting to climax. I could feel her tremendous orgasm coming and at the last instant, I let mine go and could feel myself filling her snatch with my semen. She went totally rigid and dug her nails into the back of my arms. She probably would have screamed, but I don't think that she had enough breath left for that. We stayed there for what seemed like a very long time. I could feel her heart pounding like a jack-hammer behind those big boobs and I waited until we both seemed to be breathing normally before I stepped back and helped her stand up. She was limp as a rag doll and I held her up until she seemed to be standing on her own. We spent a long time in the shower exploring each other's bodies. The shower stall wasn't very big and I tried to keep Sandy in front of me, but eventually her roaming fingers found the middle of my back. She grabbed my arm and spun me around before I could stop her. "My God, what happened to your back?" she asked as she stared at the raised, pink lines crisscrossing my back. "They're nothing" I told her, "I got scratched on a job." She wasn't buying it at all. "Come on, I'm not that dumb, besides I've told you some of my secrets today, so talk Buster." "Well, that's the part that your friend from the emergency room didn't know about." I said. I was hoping not to have to tell her about this. "My wife didn't take the standard route of sleeping pills, she was much more original. She took a whole bunch of amphetamines, and washed them down with a fifth of vodka. Not only was she high as a kite, but also a little paranoid, potentially violent, with a dash of suicidal thrown in. When she called me that night she was ranting hysterically. I went over, hoping at least to calm her down a little. When I got there she started by screaming at me, but when I said I was going to go back home, she seemed to calm down. She came over and wrapped her arms around me and started to cry. I tried to gently tell her that she really needed to see someone and get some help. I thought that she had calmed down, but when I looked down for a second, I saw a crazed look in her eyes and a split second later she buried her fingernails in my back and raked them across in both directions. The drugs had made her so paranoid that she had been sitting there for the last hour sharpening her nails into little daggers. She screamed that if she couldn't have me, she was going to kill me. With all the drugs in her system, she actually believed that she could do it with her bare hands. She was certainly going to try. I managed to shove her away and put a little distance between us. The look in her eyes told me that all rational thought was gone. She was like a rabid animal. When she came at me again, I hit her. I hit her harder than I've ever hit anything in my life. She went down so fast and hard that I thought that I had killed her. I've never been so scared in my life, even though I knew that I had no other choice. When I realized that she was still breathing, I threw her and the bottle of pills into the back of the car and drove to the hospital." Sandy looked stunned, and her mouth hung open. "O my God, You knocked her out?" "Yes, the doctor in the emergency room said her jaw was broken in two places," I told her, "he said that it was a good thing that she was out cold because the pills had been steadily raising her pulse rate to the point that she was on the verge of cardiac arrest. She probably wouldn't have made it to the hospital otherwise." She said "So you actually saved her life after she tried to kill you?" "Well I didn't know all that at the time, but, Yes." Suddenly Sandy's eyes went wide. "My God, THAT's why you didn't want to spar with me, and I wouldn't take No for an answer." She looked away and I could see that she was upset that she had insisted on sparring with me. She said "I'm so sorry." I tried to reassure her, "Well, it was the first time I've sparred since then, but I wouldn't have agreed if I thought that you were at any risk. Besides, you don't really look very much like my ex, especially from the waist up." Her cheeks turned red for a moment and she asked, "But didn't they look at your back at the hospital?" I told her, "I threw my jacket on when I loaded her in the car, and by the time I was done with the police and the doctors, I just went home and collapsed on the couch. I was too numb to even notice the pain. I didn't even remember it until the next day when I wound up tearing off most of the scabs trying to get my shirt off." "She did all that right through your shirt? My God, Turn around and let me get a good look." I turned and she looked me over with a practiced eye. Then she hugged me close and kept saying "I'm so sorry" over and over until I finally put my finger to her lips to make her stop. I told her "You didn't do anything wrong, and there's no way you could have known." Then she said, "I had a minor in nursing in college, they should heal okay, but next week I'll bring some cream that will help prevent scarring. And if you like, I'll wear my white nurse's stockings while I rub it in." "Just the white stockings?" I asked. She smiled, "I do have a little white nurse's cap, but I promise, nothing else." After a minute she asked me, "Does Sensei know about any of this?" I said, "Yes, the police talked to Sensei and Mrs. B to confirm that I was a student here and the officer told them the whole story. Sensei actually filled ME in on some of the details. I was a little shell shocked the night it all happened. But, besides a few family members and the lawyers, you are only other person who knows the truth." "How did Mrs. B take it?" "Both Sensei and Mrs. B have been terrific, letting me have the whole place to myself on Sundays. She's been a bit of a mother hen when I'm around, and he's beside himself over the fact that he can't call all his martial arts friends and brag that one of his students took out a drug crazed lunatic with one shot. But he did say that the cops were impressed so at least he has that to be proud of." She laughed "Now that sounds like our Sensei." It was getting late and we both agreed that we needed to dry off, get dressed and go home. She made me stay there for just a minute while she hugged me close again, then we got out, toweled each other off, and went to get dressed. Sunday Night Fight As she was heading for the door she stopped and said "About next week, leather or lace?" I said "Leather." Then she asked "Master or Slave?" I grinned and said "Slave, Mistress." A big smile came over her face with that answer. Then she blew me a kiss and headed out the door. I knew that I would definitely be looking forward to Sunday nights from now on.