0 comments/ 17603 views/ 2 favorites Fighting Love By: MysticalFairyQueen Mary wiped her brow, looking around her half finished bedroom. A sigh pushed through her lips and came out in a loud sound in the large room. “I’ll never be done cleaning” she grunted under her breath. She stood up from her perch on the windowsill and stretched her weary body. Her shirt strained as her ample breasts pushed against the thin fabric. Mary adjusted her shorts and looked in the mirror. Her tight black shorts accented her curves and long legs. The tank top she wore cut low to show her cleavage pouring out from the top of the shirt. Her dark chocolate colored hair hung in long silky waves down past her breast. Mary sighed again and turned back to her room. Grudgingly she began cleaning again. She had just finished and was about to get out of her cleaning clothes when she heard someone knocking at the door. She rushed down the stairs and stopped short at the back door. Mary let out a groan. It was Will, her soon-to-be ex-boyfriend. She opened the door and glared angrily at him. “What do you want?” Mary spit out. Her eyes were flashing with fire in their depths, but Will just smiled sweetly at her, his own eyes roaming her body. “I came to talk.” Will replied, his voice sliding over her like silk, making her shiver. Mary shook her head trying to get his charm out of her head. She kept repeating all the things he had done to her to keep herself mad at him. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?” his blue eyes flashing with desire. “No, I’m not. You disappear for months and then expect me to welcome you back with open arms? I don’t think so! Now leave me alone.” Mary attempted to close the door, but Will stopped her and came in. He shut the door behind him and turned to Mary. “I know that I was gone a long time, but there was nothing I could do about it. I love you. Trust me.” Hot tears filled Mary’s eyes, threatening to spill over. She blinked a couple times, trying to banish them from her eyes. “How can I trust you when you are never around? You’re never here for me when I need you. You only come around when you need me. Well, not anymore. Please leave.” Mary turned and went back upstairs to her room. She threw herself face down onto her bed and let the tears flow freely from her eyes. She flipped onto her back when she heard her door close. She looked up to see Will standing over hr. “I’m not going to leave. I love you and refuse to let you go without a fight.” Will came down upon her, covering her body with his. His hot lips pressed against hers, sending the message of his need and love. His mouth opened allowing his tongue to caress her lower lip. She lay still beneath him, letting his mouth caress hers. She let a sigh escape her lips and as she did, his tongue swept into her mouth, tasting her. Mary began fighting the feelings he was stirring within her. But as his hands began roaming her body, Mary could not let the feelings go, and became pliant under his loving hands. Mary sighed as Will slowly pushed hr top up, revealing her white lace bra. She sat up as he pulled the top over her head. His lips returned to hers as he reached around her to undue the clasps of her bra. As he unclasped the last one, he heard Mary suck in her breath. Her breasts were released from their confinement and Will led a trail of wet kisses down to her hard nipples. Mary cradled his head as he licked, sucked and nipped at her breasts. Mary stood up and kneeled in front of Will. She quickly removed his belt and pants, pulling them down and off his legs. She could see his member bulging in his boxers. Mary leaned forward and kissed and licked the flesh just above his boxers. She could hear his frustrated groan, but continued to elude giving him the satisfaction he wanted so badly. Mary slowly removed his boxers, as Will removed his shirt. Mary bent forward and allowed her hot breath to tease the sensitive skin on the top of his member. Will placed his hands deep into her hair trying to tug her closer. She laughed at his discomfort and leaned forward placing a hot, wet kiss on the tip. Mary smiled up at Will and brought her head down, taking him into her mouth. Will let his breath out quickly, Mary began moving rhythmically over his member. Will groaned and pulled Mary to her feet. He pushed Mary down on the bed and pulled her shorts and thong off hurriedly. He covered her body with his own and kissed Mary. He gently slid into her hot, tight, slick sheath. Mary groaned deep in her throat as he glided in and out of her, creating a mind-numbing friction. Mary moved her hips trying to take more of him into her. Will began to pick up the pace, moving faster within her, as Mary lifted her hips up and wrapped her legs around Will. Mary yelled and moaned, begging for more. Will moved faster, slamming into her, making her scream out in pleasure. Mary arched her back, writhing beneath him. Mary took in a deep breath as her climax hit her and let out a scream. “Stop!” Mary yelled. Will stopped and pulled out of her. Mary moved down and took him back into her mouth. She moved her lips quickly over his iron hard member. Will moaned loudly as he shuddered and climaxed, Mary felt the hot, sticky liquid pour into her mouth. Mary looked up at Will and smiled. “You still taste good.” Mary purred to Will, getting up to lie upon the bed next to him. “And you still amaze me. But we’re not done yet.” Will pushed Mary back and moved down her body. He gently spread her legs, his lips kissing their way down her thighs. He blew hot air from his mouth onto her wet core. Mary squirmed under his gaze. Will lowered his head and ran his tongue up and down her core. She brought her hips up as he tugged at her sensitive button. Will placed his hands on her hips holding her still as he continued his assault on her velvety button. His tongue was working its magic upon her body as Mary felt herself come to a shuddering climax, his name ripped from her lips in a scream. Will looked up and smiled. “Again?” Mary smiled and rolled her eyes. She shook her head took a deep breath. “Give me a couple minutes to regroup then you can do that again.” Will laughed at her disheveled look and smiled. He couldn’t wait to taste her again. Fighting Love My father always said I should think before I act. I thought while looking across the expanse of the ring at my opponent. Didn’t everybody’s father say that? Bouncing lightly on my toes I closed the distance my taped fists guarding my face. At the moment I obviously had more important things to worry about than paternal wisdom. One of them was a fist that narrowly missed my jaw; another a knee I barely blocked by tucking my elbows into my chest. I’m here because I didn’t think. It was true; I wouldn’t be dancing in circles with a champion kick boxer if I’d listened to him. I would have been a doctor, or a lawyer or president of the United States of America. Instead I pivoted on one foot and sent my heel towards his head. His head canted just enough to let my foot past by. He tried to catch my ankle as I snapped back into my stance. My mind was going a mile a minute, the way it always does when the world slows to an inch an hour. Where everything happens in slow motion and you have time to consider everything a thousand times. Where it takes a full minute to fall but a millisecond to consider what you could have done better. In this case I could have stayed home. I could have watched TV with the woman of my dreams. Her name was Samantha and I never did pay enough attention to her. She deserved the entire world delivered to her on a silver platter. She deserve to have Prince Charming sweep her off her feet to his castle in Spain where she could spend the rest of her days worrying about which car to be driven around in. Instead she had to settle for me; a dark prince and I wasn’t much of a prince at that. The Dark Ponce would probably have been a more fitting label for me. A high school graduate who’d joined the Marines three months after graduation. Joining the few and the proud, it was the first time I didn’t think before acting. I figured it would be an easy meal ticket, a way to avoid college for four years, get out of my parents house and escape that lingering question of what are you going to do? I didn’t really think about the possibility of going to war, to me there wasn’t one. I would spend my four years getting yelled at, doing push ups, running insane distances and getting to look like the Rock. Well Wesley Snipes; I’m a few shades to dark to ever pass as the Rock. In reality I got out of boot camp at one hundred forty four pounds, about fifty pounds smaller than I’d ever been in my life. It was like a kick in the gut, this one so painful it left me doubled. My girlfriend left me for the neighborhood thug; my boys replaced me with a rotund bastard who happened to be my equal in Street Fighter. The world changed while I was away. If that weren’t enough Saddam Hussein had to grow a pair of balls and refuse the demands of the Honorable George Bush. Because of his ignorance I had to go to war. I can tell you stories about rocket attacks and code red alerts. I can say with some certainty that prison food is better than the shit they pass off as food in the field. I can tell you about the camel spiders as big as dinner plates. I can tell you how it feels to have mortar rounds come down around you but I couldn’t make you understand. It’s boring. Boring beyond reason. Boredom with no limits or bounds where every single day is Groundhog Day. You wake up, eat shitty food, watch movies till the time comes to eat again, then you watch movies till its time to eat one last time. Once that exciting cycle is over you sleep and start over. By the end you don’t even run when you hear rockets or take cover from mortar, you just keep going about your business. When I came back the woman of my dreams wanted to be mine again. My heart literally stopped in my chest. I was so happy that while all of you know what I mean none of you can describe it. I won’t even bother to try. “Don’t take her back.” My father said. I was nineteen and in love, do you really think I listened to him? To this fossil of fifty years to who love was an annual dinner and not nightly escapades to sordid to be recorded on paper. Of course I didn’t, but I should have. Things happened so fast for a few months, the pacing just like the flurry of punches my opponent was sending at me. Like I always do I was able to dance this way and that, I might have no rhythm on the dance floor but in the ring I’m the King of Rock and Roll. He couldn’t touch me and for a while nothing could, not the fact that she’d left me. Not the fact that she’d been with him for close to five months before she dumped me. Not that she’d been sweating in the nonexistent backseat of his powder blue Camero. I looked up at my opponent and grinned slightly. There was a slight trickle of blood oozing from my lip but like any warrior it only excited me. There is a thrill in the hunt and a certain satisfaction of knowing that anybody could be here and I was chosen. This wasn’t some punk kid on his first fight; he was no virgin who wouldn’t laugh at my mistakes. This was a man considered champion in three countries. It was finally my turn to go on the offensive and a started with a roundhouse that I carried around into a low sweep. I bought gifts for the girl; I took her places and did things with her that she’d never done. I marked my territory like a hungry wolf. I knew, I just knew that if I could claim her that she could never escape me, she’d be mine forever. I was even beginning to search for the perfect band of gold to shackle me down to her for eternity. He ducked beneath the kick planting his weight before the sweep. Shin and calf collided and I was the first to falter and the first to recover. I came back with an uppercut. He leaned back and then settled into a new stance and stepped away from me. It all changed in a single moment, his rhythm, his moves, everything. I wasn’t prepared for his change of stance any more than I was ready for my woman’s shifting interests. A sudden desire to be swept off her feet, to have that white picket fence with the pitter-patter of fists against my face. His name was Manuel, a fat, pierced, married to the creature from the black lagoon, daughter named Mariah, works at Blockbuster, still living in his parents house twenty-four year old gamer. I think if I didn’t always think of him as marking my territory we would have been good friends. We really did have a lot in common. We might even have been friends if she hadn’t left me because he was jealous of me. Imagine that, your woman leaves you because her lover is jealous of you. I changed my stance to match his, arms extended away from me with my palms out. Feet just over shoulder distance apart and something became immediately obvious. I was only good at being myself; I was no good at being him. Day by day I had to watch as I lost territory to the warrior. I had to watch this girl, this girl who still considered herself part of my territory allow herself to be marked by another. It was infuriating. It must have driven him mad as well because it was a short fight after that. He slipped back into his original stance and I caught him in chest with knee. Before he could recover I’d his feet from under him. I only barely missed his chest with a stomp. I should have finished it there. I should have finished him as he gathered his unsteady legs beneath him. Why didn’t I? Why am I about to volunteer for more punishment? Its obvious to some that I must enjoy the pain, that I somehow don’t feel complete without it. Its only reason why even after my father told me not to do it. Not to trust this woman, to think before I acted that I still welcomed her back. Open arms and open eyes. I’d be better off with closed eyes and arms at least them his kicks wouldn’t be hitting such tender places. Even my mocha hued flesh would show black and blue blotches from this battle. Much the same as my heart bears the scars of her attacks and still I take her back. I take her back again and I know that when it happens again I’ll take the plunge again. I guess that is really truly what love is about. Its about never giving up, its about knowing what you want. It’s about how you feel about them and not how they feel about you. It is a lot like fighting. How the man across from me feels as he punishes my body isn’t important at all. What’s important is the way my blood rushes to the surface and I suddenly see red. It’s not about the punch he didn’t block that sent him reeling. It’s not about the block he failed to put up in time to keep my heel from crashing into his ribs. It’s about the explosion in me that left him on the mat at my feet. I only know how to love one way. It’s exactly the same as the way I fight. Forever and with everything that I have. I never lose, maybe the battles but never the wars. This isn’t any different, this broken man laying unconscious at my feet unable to connect the man standing over him dripping sweat and blood with the man who’d been sitting in the stool with his head lowered in fear of an unavoidable knock out. It’s the same for her, can’t manage to believe that the man who will stand by her side till his body is to beaten to stand is the same one who believes she will leave him again. It doesn’t matter to me what the chances are, how badly I’ll be beaten. I’d rather enjoy the time that I have now. Live on the impulses that keep my heart pulsing than trust in whatever lies my mind can conjure. He didn’t beat me like I knew he would, she won’t leave me like I think she will. I couldn’t go on if I thought before I acted, life would be too painful.