Robin Peacock's Blog, page 2

Excerpt from ‘Deliver Her From Evil’.

With his back to her, the man stood naked, his wet clothes lay in a heap just outside the sliding glass cabin door. Engrossed in applying a Band-Aid to a small cut on his finger, he was completely oblivious to her stare. Charlie had not seen a naked man since the morning Graham died. This one was certainly worth looking at. His well-muscled body gleamed with the dampness from his wet clothing. About perfect, Charlie decided. He had a large military insignia tattooed on his left shoulder and a red and black snake wrapped around his lower left leg. Without consciously realising it, Charlie felt an involuntary physical reaction to the sight, a reaction that had lain dormant within her since that day almost five years ago when her world came to a shattering end. Feminists might have women believe that this physical reaction was a figment of the male imagination, beloved of male fiction writers, but Charlie could feel the smouldering heat and the tingling sensation running from between her legs, across her belly, finally coursing up to her breasts causing her nipples to harden slightly. The aching desire to be fondled and stroked was as real as any hunger she had ever experienced. The image of herself and her husband coupling furiously on Sunday mornings flashed through her mind. For a moment, the man in front of her blurred into that same vision.

Charlie was unsure of what to do or say. After a few more seconds of studying his back and buttocks, she realised he was also observing her. A small oval mirror, screwed to the bulkhead in front of him with a small oil lamp in front of it showed a somewhat distorted and very small body neatly framed in the glass.

‘Er, Young Man, I’m sorry, but do you have any soap?’

Charlie stammered as she pulled the door closer to her. He turned side on to her and took a few steps to a small locker. He bent down and from an open drawer, produced the requested item. He turned to face her, then took just two steps and stopped. The distance between them would require him to take four steps. Lightning flashed outside the rocking boat.

‘Certainly. Here, help yourself.’

 Thunder crashed a second later, vibrating the boat. The young man grinned as he stood three feet from the door with a packet of good quality soap in his outstretched hand. Charlie eyed him through the narrow gap and pondered her next move. There he stood, facing her, as bold as brass. Her eyes flickered quickly over the front view, taking in the slight covering of pale brown hair on his broad chest, his well-developed legs. Even with the briefest glance, she glimpsed the most beautiful penis she had ever seen. It hung lazily down and slightly to his left. The broad circumcised head and smooth shaft glistened slightly in the dim light. The thick head appeared to have a slightly rough surface. Charlie realised with some embarrassment that she was now staring directly at his penis. She blushed.

She needed the soap but he was coming no closer. She had given him a thorough study and guessed that he too, quite rightly, thought he deserved to give her the same study. Oh well, in for a penny, she decided. Charlie opened the door fully and stepped out. She took a pace toward him. She grasped the bar of soap in her right hand. His grip did not relax as he studied her. Charlie prayed that he liked what he saw. A broad grin lit up his face. He slowly surveyed, unashamedly, her entire body from top to toe. Deliberately staring into her eyes, he lowered his gaze, step by deliberate step, lingering over her breasts, then on down over her belly, pausing a moment on her pubic hair, completing his inspection down her long legs. She knew she was a few years his senior but her boating life, regular martial arts work outs and lots of jogging, yoga and swimming, together with her healthy diet kept her looking trim and supple. Her body carried no fat. Her pale blonde, almost white hair was thick and long, hanging down below her strong shoulders, almost to her nipples in fact. Her long, slender limbs were in fine proportion to her considerable height. A few tiny wrinkles marked her eyes. You needed to be very close up to see them though. Her breasts still sat reasonably high and were firm enough although she sometimes thought they tended to be on the heavy side. Her neatly trimmed, pale blonde pubic hair paled into invisibility. His lingering glance from head to toe, coupled with his boyish grin told her that he seemed to appreciate the view. This appraisal took about five unending seconds.

‘Would you care for a back scrub…or something?’

His grin broadened, splitting his face from ear to ear. The boat rocked again in the howling wind. Thunder crashed incessantly.

Charlie took a moment to ponder as they continued to regard each other’s naked bodies. Their respective grips on the connecting bar of soap remained firm. What happened next was entirely dependent on her and the reply she made to such an obvious invitation. She had lived reasonably contentedly without sex for close to five years, not because she had no opportunity, but the motivation was lacking. All she knew now was that this man would be perfect for a resumption of something she long considered one of the most important parts of her life with Graham. His penis began showing signs that it reacted in much the same way as she had a few moments earlier. It rolled forward and thickened, lengthening slightly. The head lowered slowly and pulsed forward in small jerky movements. She knew that in another twenty seconds it would be staring her straight in the face. The rocking of the boat caused it to roll left and right, like a hooded cobra, mesmerising. She could not drag her eyes away from the sight.

Much to her surprise she found herself saying,

‘Could it be the something followed by a back scrub?’

Charlie glanced down to the now heavily engorged penis. It could now be defined as erect, well, semi-erect.

‘Am I really saying this? I was raised in a convent, for Christ’s sake. This is not my normal style but, Oh Jesus, just look at that body. That cock looks good enough to eat. And I shall before I leave him. Good Lord, I can’t believe I just thought that. It’s too late to go back now. Well, theoretically, it’s never too late, but who cares. Provided I make him take suitable precautions, why the hell not enjoy it for now?’

Charlie stepped backwards into the dimly lit cabin. Their mutual grip on the soap still maintained the link that held them together. Charlie took one further step backwards until she could feel the bed against the back of her knees. She lowered herself on to the bed, lying back on her elbows. She raised her right foot onto the corner of the bed. Her knees fell invitingly apart as she smiled up at him. The soap lay forgotten by the pillow.

‘You mind if I say, Hello?’

The young man knelt on the cabin floor. He dipped his head towards her. Charlie instinctively closed her legs at the sudden and unfamiliar intrusion on her private space, especially that private space, a space no one had visited for many years. The young man took hold of her knees. He firmly and gently eased her legs apart again. He smiled up at Charlie as she watched. He dipped his head further. Charlie resisted the temptation to close her legs. She made a conscious effort to deliberately widen them, allowing him easier access.

Charlie felt his warm breath on her inner thighs. He paused, the slight stubble on his cheeks and chin tickled the inside of her silken thighs. Charlie moved her knees a little further apart, ensuring there was no further impediment to his progress. Charlie dropped her elbows, allowing her head to fall back on the bed. Questions filled her brain, flashed across her conscience. They fought tooth and nail with her strict moral upbringing. She was about to change her mind and say no when the very tip of his tongue touched the very tip of her clitoris. The shock to her system blew all rational thought right out of the boat. All Charlie could concentrate on was the intense, electric shock waves coursing through her body. She yelped, like a puppy. Her hands gripped the top of his head lightly but firmly. The pressure she applied to his head was involuntary, instinctive. Coupled with the slight lift of her hips, she had the contact she wanted.

His broad, flat tongue rested firmly on her clitoris. Her sex was now open, spread flat against his head, wide, as wide as she could go. Her thighs lay almost flat along the bed either side of her, bent at the knees. Now he had complete control. Charlie’s hands were on his head to ensure he maintained the correct pressure. His tongue got to work, lapping gently from bottom to top. The length of the stroke increased until he was licking from the lowest point of her labia to the top, to her clitoris. His tongue rotated over her clitoris before starting on down the swollen channel of her lips. Charlie felt the juice running out of her, felt the wetness in the crack of her arse. She prayed that she did not leave a stain on the nice pale blue sheets.

He lapped, licked, sucked, nibbled, tugged, felt with his fingers, probed, slid, kissed and flicked until Charlie felt her orgasm building. His rhythm and pace increased. He had two fingers inside her now, probing gently and smoothly. The rise and fall of her hips under his hot breath set the rhythm. Charlie had pleasured herself often enough since she got back on her feet but she already knew this orgasm would be nothing like those puny efforts. This one was building, deep within her, smouldering, growing, expanding, and mushrooming until it exploded with such violent force and intensity that Charlie catapulted up off the bed. As her orgasm peaks, she thrashed and bucked under him, sucking her breath into her heaving chest. She came with a loud, long, piercing cry. Thunder crashed almost continuously as she screamed to the heavens. Her body shuddered as the waves of pleasure rippled through her body. She rocked and shook, twitched, shook some more and vibrated as the orgasm ripped through her whole being. She cried and stuttered in a voice not her own. At last, she lay still, only a few internal twitches remain of what had been the most fantastic orgasm of her life. Well, her recent life, she reflected.

The young man’s head came up with a big grin on his now very wet face. He remained kneeling between her legs, gently stroking the inside of her thighs, across her belly and down again, along her thighs. He avoided her exposed labia, knowing how very sensitive they must be. He felt fairly sure the woman would be uncomfortable with further stimulation. Slowly, he stood between her open legs. His engorged and rigid penis strained towards her. Charlie took a few moments to recover her senses, her equilibrium. She looked up, leaned on her elbows and smiled as she took in the sight facing her; a very hungry looking, very engorged cock. She looked up into his eyes, smiled even wider and said,

‘I trust you have a condom, Young Man?’

‘Lady, I have plenty.’ His grin, if anything, was even wider than before.

The young man reached into a bedside locker and withdrew a small package. Carefully opening it, he extracted the small foil wrapper. Tearing it open, he removed the coral coloured latex condom. Lightening brightened the scene. Loud and prolonged thunder smashed close by.

‘Trojan, America’s finest!’ he said with a flourish.

With one hand holding his cock at the base, he carefully unrolled the rubber down the full length of his erection. He stood before her now, his bright pink cock bobbing in anticipation, ready for work, as ready as she had ever seen a cock before. It seemed almost eager to please as it swayed before her gaze.

Charlie knew she was more than ready for him. The lubricating juice inside her pussy began stirring the moment she saw his naked back. The orgasm produced a further rush of lubrication, almost too much she felt. The tantalising sight of him donning the protector only increased her readiness to accept him inside her. She raised her legs and let them fall fully open to his gaze once more. She could smell herself, a faint, pleasant, clean combination of slightly musky and slightly salty from the sea. Men have lost minds and lives for countless generations over such a smell. He moved closer, between her upraised legs. He could smell her now and reacted in the time-honoured manner. His erection strained further against the restraining latex enclosing it. His eyes locked onto the sight of her wet, swollen labia, the glistening pink flesh unfolded before him. Charlie’s fingertips caressed her light brown nipples as she supported herself on her elbows.

He moved further forward, standing on the deck and leaned across her, lowering the swollen head to her offered opening. With precise adjustment, he placed the tip gently within the petals of the offered, flowering orchid. He gripped his penis and moved the head gently around within the proffered lips. Moisture spread around the head of his rigid penis, glistening between them. He began probing forward; he could feel the resistance of her clasping muscles. Once he felt sure the aim was correct, he lunged into her welcoming pussy. He gave Charlie one great, long, surging, painful, beautiful, gorgeous, greedy push that took the breath completely out of her and filled her eager pussy with his splendidly proportioned and very hard cock. Charlie had never taken such a penis as this before, neither in length nor in breadth, nor so quickly! Her ankles slid up over his buttocks as he rested quietly within her.

‘Don’t move Lady or it’s all over for me. Jeez, you are so hot and tight. And will you stop squeezing like that?’

Charlie made a conscious effort to prevent her vaginal muscles from clenching tightly around the rod of flesh inside her. She found it hard to relax and keep still. Still, maybe he was right, let him decide how fast to continue, she was in no hurry, that was for sure. She had just enjoyed what seemed to be the most intense orgasm in her memory. Although it had been a long time since she let a man inside her, really fucking her, she felt sure that another few moments waiting would be worth it!  For around thirty seconds he laid buried deep within her, not moving a muscle. Then he began. He pleased her, thrilled her with long, slow, languorous slides, in and out. On the out-strokes, he pulled out far enough that he almost drew the rimmed head clear of her hot pussy. The in-strokes he buried his ramrod cock as deep as he could push. Charlie felt the swollen head limited within her by the neck of her womb. The intense pleasure far outweighed the slight discomfort it caused as it touched her so deeply. Charlie laid her arms gently on his shoulders; her fingers toyed with his wavy hair. His eyes locked on hers as he gazed down at her face from above. He kept the pace and rhythm steady, long, smooth, steady, long, smooth, steady, long, smooth and steady. He continued for three or more minutes, savouring the intense pleasure.

Without warning, Charlie felt the twinge deep inside her that told her another orgasm was imminent. It took her by surprise with its rapid arrival. Considering that she had went ne without a man for so long, it was not really so surprising, she decided. She could feel the trigger within her being cocked, ready for the final explosive outburst. This cocking of the trigger was almost as pleasurable as a small orgasm itself. It signalled the release of a chain of events, which, if left to themselves would result in an explosive orgasm. The anticipation of this inevitable event was a source of wonder to Charlie. The bullet fired as if in slow motion, released from its casing, travelling down a long barrel to erupt within her with violent energy. From the cocking of the trigger to the arrival of the explosive bullet was a matter of moments as his cock plunged deep inside her. The friction around the mouth of her vagina was such that the soft pink flesh rolled and unrolled in a continuous motion, drawing her erect clitoris down onto the upper surface of his glistening member.

On and on, relentlessly, slowly, smoothly, long, slow, deep, long, slow, deep. ‘If he just continues that for another few moments, I am going to come like a fucking express train.’ Charlie heard words coming from deep within her, quietly at first, then louder as the pleasure increased.  Charlie’s mind raced, thoughts and words and sounds and feelings flashed through her acutely aware brain.

‘Oh God don’t stop, that’s it, a little longer, more, more, just keep going, just as you are, don’t change a fucking thing. Oh, Christ that’s it, more, push, push, fuck me. Why the fuck do I think in this fucking language when I’m being fucking fucked like this, oh Christ, oh fuck and why does He fucking get involved? Jesus, look at that cock disappear inside me, look how it shines wet with all my pussy juice. Fucking hell that was just so fucking good, my cun, er, pussy is on fire. Just push in, out, in, out. Oh now, now the fucking bullet’s on its fucking way. Jeesuss, Oh, Oh God, that’s it, that’s it, coming, coming, Ah God, coming, coming, coming, ogodogodogod.’

Charlie wailed, a long siren like noise, like nothing the Young Man had ever heard before, and he had heard a few women coming before now. The thunder drowns out her howling shriek for a few seconds.

The explosion filled her whole body. Dark red light flooded her consciousness, flashes of white light shot across her eyes. Her body shuddered and shook; her muscles were uncontrolled for a few seconds as she tried to drag his whole body inside her aching pussy. For a full minute, she was gone, unconscious to her surroundings. Her first, non-self-induced, real cock produced orgasm in years had wiped her out completely. So unexpected in its ferocity and its rapid arrival, she was in shock! She came around slowly, aware that he remained buried deep within her, still holding his position above her. His weight rested on his strong forearms, his knees against the edge of the bed, his feet firmly planted on the floor. Charlie looked into his eyes; the grin was as wide as ever.

‘Jesus, Lady that was some fucking orgasm!’

Charlie had to agree with his assessment. She just had the most intense, earth shattering, spine-tingling orgasm of her life. Gripping his hips and pulling him with her, Charlie hoisted herself up the bed a little until his feet were off the floor.

‘Did you finish yet? I missed it if you did, sorry.’ Charlie’s voice sounded a little hoarse.

‘Er, no, I didn’t. Would you mind if I have one now?’ He sounded almost polite, thought Charlie. She laughed and said,

‘Oh, get on with it, please, fuck me again and make sure you come this time.’

The young man grinned once again and resumed his efforts, this time with a different rhythm, slightly shorter strokes, slightly faster paced. Charlie could feel the pressure building within him. A faint sheen of sweat covered his furrowed brow. He concentrated his efforts on his own orgasm. She moved her shoulders to one side, reached down beneath her left thigh and stroked his heavy sack. Picking up her own fluid, she reached further until her fingers played around his anus. Her long middle finger sought out the puckered opening. A slight push and the tip slipped inside, she held it there, neither pushing nor pulling, letting his movements provide enough stimulation for himself. His face grew redder and his brow more furrowed as his orgasm approached. He looked down between them as the red flesh parted and the bone hard rod rushed from view within her swollen lips. Charlie began to squeeze. Her pussy had a grip like no pussy he ever felt before.

He moved faster now, short sharp shallow strokes. A rumble grew from within his chest. The low roaring noise became a growl. The strokes became longer, slower, deeper. Now he held the tip of his bursting cock for a second close to the mouth of her squeezing pussy. She grasped hungrily lest it slip completely out, then he stabbed her with the final instantaneous plunge deep inside her. A long loud roar welled from his open mouth, a gasp for breath, a shudder that wracked his whole body. His straining penis bulged against the inner walls of her vagina, swelling and throbbing, pulsing the jets of semen into the restraining sheath pushed hard up against her womb. Charlie found the combined stimulation of his penis inside her, his shouted acknowledgement that this was a really special orgasm and her own gentle squeezing pushed her once again over the precipice. Another, small but pleasurable orgasm shot through her body. This time though, it was less intense. A selfish pleasure. A sneaky little one, taken while he was not looking, so to speak. The thunder crashed yet again, disturbing the peace they now felt between them.

The young man lowered his full weight onto her yielding body; his head lay next to hers. He smiled into her eyes and closed his own in a gesture of release, trust, almost of love. Charlie eased his heavy body slightly to one side as he relaxed into her curves and hollows. His penis jerked a few times, a low groan came from his throat as his penis slipped clear of her still twitching pussy. Charlie reached under her thigh, gripped his now deflating penis and pulled the condom clear. She tied a swift knot at the open end and dropped it on the bedside table, recalling the Houdini joke her husband used to tell. She noted the quantity of creamy liquid in the condom and was mightily impressed. That would contain the whole population of Canada, the USA and Mexico she thought. Moments later, the young man did what men always did in such a situation for a thousand, thousand years; he cupped her right breast in his strong left hand and slept.

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/369171

Charlie waits...

Excerpt from ‘Prayer For a Sinner’. Book 2 in the ‘Saving Grace’ series.

When she came out of the bathroom, the Young Man was waiting for her, his interest apparent by the bulge in his jockey shorts. He took her hand and led her outside to the rear deck then up the seven steps to the flying bridge of his powerful fishing boat. The cream leather upholstered Captain’s chair sat on the right side of the bridge, high above the waterline. Charlie wore only a T-shirt, one of his, which reached well below her immodesty threshold. He picked her up and sat her in the chair. He opened her legs and stood between her knees. They kissed; slow, languorous, early morning, there’s no rush type of kisses. He wore only the shorts, which seemed to make their own way down to the deck while they embraced. Charlie might have had some hand in helping them past the restriction of his elongated cock as it strained for release from the cotton pants. After several minutes of stroking, kissing, caressing, nibbling, sucking and pulling on Charlie’s part, they were both ready for the main event.

Charlie positioned herself close to the edge of the seat, her feet resting on the footrest half way down the main chair support. Her knees lay wide open, her sex eager, moist and available. She pulled on his now rigid cock, placed the tip against the lips of her damp pussy and waited. He took a deep breath and then he stepped forward slightly, walking his cock inside her eager pussy. She gripped him with her well-trained muscles. Her hours of yoga and exercise paid off as she squeezed and relaxed around the rigid shaft. She milked his straining cock as he tried to maintain control of his rising passion. He felt as though he was about to come before she had a chance to build up her usual head of steam. He simply withdrew his cock, much to her disappointment.

‘Get on your knees and squat. I want to try something.’

Charlie obliged, turning on the chair until she had her knees on the cushion. She lowered her backside until her minimalist pubic hair brushed the soft cushion; her pussy was at the same height as when she sat on the chair, just up the other way. The Young Man reinserted his still rigid cock and stroked, once, twice, three times; long slow strokes , and then he withdrew once more. Suddenly, Charlie was on the move. He swung the chair through one hundred and eighty degrees, such that now her face was close to his belly. She had merely to dip her head over the arm of the chair on her right side and he was in her mouth. He stroked, once, twice, three times; long slow strokes, and then withdrew. She tasted herself; fresh, clean, pussy juice, as he spun her back and forth. Three strokes in her wet mouth, three strokes in her wet pussy. Three strokes in her wet mouth, three strokes in her wet pussy. They both loved every minute of it. Charlie began to laugh at the sheer novelty of the experience. He was silent, concentrating on not coming too soon. This went on for several more minutes until he felt the time had come to either stop altogether or alternatively, explode in one warm and welcoming orifice or the other.

‘Where do you want it?’

‘In my mouth, come in my mouth.’

He turned her one final time; he was close to coming, and three strokes he felt would be enough. Charlie reached for his swollen shaft this time, pumping him into her mouth. At the end of the third stroke, he withdrew once more, ready to shoot over her face. He looked down to see her mouth gaping open for him. He could not avoid blasting the first violent jet of cum straight into her open mouth. The second and third followed close on the heels of the first. She pulled on his pulsing shaft, gripping hard enough to force him to move his hips towards her. She wanted more. Her mouth closed around his throbbing cock head, she sucked, every last drop, until he stopped shaking with pleasure. He looked down at her upturned face. She withdrew his cock, smiled up into his eyes, opened her mouth to show him where his copious shots of cum rested on her tongue, then she swallowed. They were both ecstatic with joy. Charlie even wiped the excess from her chin and slipped it into her mouth, sucking her fingers clean.

He stood for thirty seconds or so, shuddering with the aftershocks of his intense orgasm. It was the first time Charlie had taken his cum straight into her mouth. He had showered her body, her breasts, her backside and even her face on one occasion, but this was the first time she had willingly taken it directly into her mouth. He assumed it was all a matter of building up trust, which was reasonable. After all, they had only known each other for seven days. He was astounded at her lascivious smile, the glint in her eyes, and the look of vapid wantonness. He loved it. He bent down to kiss her, tasting his own cum and her pussy juice on her tongue and lips. They swapped copious amounts of fluid in the Frenchest of fashions.

Now he spun her once more. He placed a hand under her pubic bone and raised her to a more comfortable height. He dipped his head, extended his tongue and touched the tip to her puckered anus. The shock sent a jolt through Charlie’s entire body. He tried again, same result. Another first for Charlie. Never before had anyone tongued her anus and she loved it! He kept at it for a minute or so then he began to lap, lick, kiss, pull, spread, slide and blow on her proffered backside and gaping pussy. His hands and fingers traced patterns over her thighs, backside and back, heightening the intensity of arousal for Charlie.

He inserted and withdrew three fingers in her now dripping pussy. He licked her arse, rimming the hole, even probing inside with his powerful tongue. Charlie gripped the back of the chair, her arse thrust out over the edge of the chair. He simply stood behind her, enjoying the open access to her pussy and anus. He worked on, concentrating on the moves and kisses that produced the most reaction in the way of low moans from Charlie. It took him around four minutes to bring her to orgasm. He felt her pussy squeezing his fingers. She was getting close. Her breathing became fast and shallow, little grunts of pleasure escaped her lips. Her arse pushed back further, her cheeks spread wider, her moans became slightly louder as she rode the bullet he had fired deep within her. When she came, she let out a muffled scream into the chair back, shuddered and squirted clear liquid over his face, much to his delight. The orgasm was so powerful that she really did pass out a few seconds, draped limp on the chair as he allowed her to recover.

Coming noisily!

Charlie Edwards whups ass!

James Linus Walcott entered the tournament, as he did every year, in spite of his age. He loved the adrenalin rush and the camaraderie at these events. The sports auditorium in South Central Miami housed a full-sized basketball court with four wrestling arenas beyond the north end basket. With the basket stands removed, the hall opened into a much larger space. The spectators at these unsanctioned, open Martial Arts tournaments liked to get down close to the action. Ignoring the bleachers, they linked arms to prevent the crowd encroaching on the fighter’s space. Ninety-six contestants, four of them women, had arrived to try to win a cash prize. Second prize was nothing but a bruised ego. A woman had never won a contest before, in the seventeen-year history of the event.

Walcott’s first opponent was a tall, toned blonde-haired woman. They faced each other in the Judo arena. They bowed respectfully to each other.  They circled for a few moments then engaged. The woman was the same height as Walcott, so that was no advantage. He was giving away around thirty-five years but they were packed with experience. Walcott felt confident. They exchanged a few flicks and kicks, a few pulls and twists but nothing came of it for a couple of minutes. Neither of them had scored. Walcott felt it was time to use one of his well-tried tricks. He stood upright and adjusted his judogi, the loose fitting jacket. He deliberately left the right side front loose from the belt, offering a grip and hence a scoring throw opportunity.

The woman moved in close, her eyes glanced down at the jacket, Walcott had her hooked. She would lean to her left and reach low for the loose fabric, then he would strike, rolling her onto her back for a winning ippon. What happened next astounded everyone who was watching. The woman did indeed move low and left but she moved in really close, struck her right arm between Walcott’s legs and lifted him clear of the mat. She held him at chest height, pulled him tight to her upper body and simply fell forward. He landed flat on his back on the padded mat. Her right hand maintained the grip between his legs, her left arm held tight around his neck. She embraced him into an ippon, holding him still for fifteen seconds. There was nothing Walcott could do apart from kick his legs uselessly into the air.

They broke, separated, bowed and shook hands. They smiled, each knowing that tricks are fine as long as the other guy hasn’t seen them before. Charlie had seen them all. Walcott sat on a bleacher and watched the remainder of the tournament with a sense of wonder, of history about to be made. The bouts continued according to weights, skill levels and belt colours. Eventually the open rounds began. No holds barred and serious efforts made to win each bout. Walcott watched the woman win her next four bouts without a score against her name.

One or two questionable throws appeared as the bouts progressed but that was normal at these unofficial tournaments. They allowed different disciplines to highlight their skills to each other. Occasionally things turned ugly but it never went beyond a few choice words and a well-timed throw. The preliminary bouts were restricted to those practicing the same art. The crowd greatly enjoyed the later bouts. Watching a Karate expert take on a Judo or Tae Kwan Do expert was always fun to watch.

The blonde woman and a hard looking ex-police academy instructor contested the final of the Judo. Vincent De la Hoya enjoyed the status of second favourite to win the tournament. Much to everyone’s surprise, it turned out to be the ex-cops last appearance in the ring that day. They circled each other for a few seconds until Charlie launched a high kick to his head with her right foot. He saw it coming; she practically telegraphed the move when she shuffled towards him. He swiftly dropped his head and torso, moving forward and left, towards her oncoming kick, easily avoiding the blow. Sadly, for him, he missed something; he did not see her other foot clip him behind the knee of his supporting leg. He crumpled as his knee collapsed under the impact. He knelt briefly on the mat. As he pushed himself up from the non-scoring knock down, he sensed rather than saw the rush beside his head. The woman was airborne, grabbing his head as she passed his crouched and unbalanced figure. She kept her hold on his head, toppling him backwards, and flat on his back. It was fast, had force, was powerful and she showed wonderful control. He sprang off the mat but he only made about three inches before the woman landed flat on his upper body, an arm and both legs spread wide to flatten him back onto the mat. Charlie landed with all her weight concentrated on her right elbow. It hit him on his sternum, she restrained herself from applying all the force she had available; she did not want to hurt him too much. Charlie followed with a lightning fast, straight, hammer-fist blow to his throat, pulling up a millimetre short of his Adam’s apple. The judge gave her the unconventional ippon after just thirty five seconds.

The semi-final took longer, almost three and a half minutes. Her Asian Tae Kwan Do opponent towered over her by at least a foot. She had never faced anyone so tall. She paused, took stock, talked to club members, strategized then entered the ring. Judo would probably lose against Tae Kwan Do in this case; he enjoyed such a reach and height advantage. Facing her opponent, Charlie adopted his own techniques, much to the surprise of the spectators. They assumed her area of expertise to be Judo. Charlie watched him closely, observing every move he made as he shaped up for an attack.

Charlie stepped in close, arms raised, as if to strike at his torso. He deflected her blows easily, forcing her backwards, smiling at the impudent attacker. He slapped a few blows on her head, as if chastising a child. The grin broadened. He did not know it, but he would very soon be finished; his swagger and grin would last only a few minutes longer. Charlie allowed the young man to think himself unbeatable against the smaller, lighter opponent. He scored points freely, palming her attacks away with apparent ease. He adopted a stance suited to kicking, Niunja Sogi, relying on his long legs to score points from a distance. Charlie adopted an untidy defensive punching stance, Annun Sogi, aimed at blocking the incoming blows. She needed to get in close, her height and reach so disadvantageous. He delivered punches and kicks seemingly at will. Charlie parried or deflected them as she danced around the arena, but some found their target. Charlie was losing hand over fist on points; she had not scored any. She did not care.

The Asian, Hijo, saw an easy opening. He rocked back, swung a long arcing kick with his left leg towards Charlie’s midriff. She blocked it late; his foot hit her exposed ribs, apparently knocking the wind from her lungs. The sharp pain in his foot surprised him. He felt as though he had kicked a wall. Charlie saw him flinch. Charlie back-pedalled, staggered almost, her breathing laboured. She winced and pressed her apparently damaged ribs. She took a step forward, rushing to regain her stance. Hijo, sensing an easy win, swung again, another hit to Charlie’s midriff. Charlie again cringed in pain. Hijo winced when he put his full weight on his bare right foot. What had he kicked? The first glimmer of doubt crossed his face. Charlie did not miss it. Hijo would end it now. He hopped on his toes, wheeling to his left. Charlie circled the arena with a clumsy gait, maintaining her defensive stance, barely following his every move. He sprung his balance from his right leg back to the left. His right leg whipped towards her at head height, flashing in on a short arc. If it touched her unprotected head, she would lose the bout. Hijo and the crowd of spectators roared the winning blow to its destination.

Problem was it never landed. One moment her head danced wearily in front of him, waiting for the blow to land, the next instant it dropped out of sight. Charlie somehow managed to launch a low-flying kick from a punching stance, something no one had seen before. The rapid front snap kick, the first kick every new exponent of the art learns, hit Hijo’s knee on his planted left leg. Charlie hit it just hard enough to severely strain the ligaments in the back of the knee, but not hard enough to tear them. Hijo collapsed like a steer with a bolt through its brain, quiet and still, clutching his knee as excruciating pain seared out of his cruciate ligament. Charlie aimed a swift stamping kick to his rolling head. She pulled up a quarter inch short of impact. The referee awarded her the win without hesitation.

They announced the final bout would begin in twenty minutes. The crowd left the bleachers to get refreshments or grab a smoke outside. Charlie asked around the arena during the interval. She learned that her opponent was indeed skilled but almost universally disliked. Arrogant, racist, a bully, homophobic, Republican; these and other insults were used to describe him. Charlie analysed, strategized and theorized. She faced the wall in a quiet corner, holding the ends of a sweaty towel around her shoulders and concentrated, breathing deeply and drawing her inner strength to her very core. Thirty seconds before the bout began, she felt ready.

 When the spectators returned, they formed a large circle in the centre of the hall. The announcer called the finalists names. Charlie stood face to face with ex-Master Sergeant ‘Buzz’ Aldrin Miller. They listened to a long list of his accomplishments and awards. He instructed for three years at the Marine Corps Martial Arts Programme. He had won tournaments both locally and state-wide. It sounded to Charlie like he rapidly became the local hot favourite. Come the time to introduce her, the announcer simply said;

‘This is Charlie, the blonde chick from England. We don’t know squat about her but she sure is pretty!’

They applauded loud and long, for both of them. Charlie studied Buzz as he smiled and waved to the crowd. Arrogance; check.

Charlie knew that this bout would be her toughest. With that background and experience, he surely had all the moves to beat any opponent. No one at the Jiu Jitsu dojo where he commanded such respect had any doubts that he would win, nor did the nearly five hundred others in the hall. His list of tournament wins extended to thirty-two consecutive, no losses. He stood grinning, looking at the glorious rack on the Limey woman in front of him. The sweat stains around her waist and between her breasts showed the effort she put into her earlier bouts. The smirk on his face said it all. This will be a short but oh so sweet bout. She will not know where to turn when I get going on her.

Miller studied his opponent more closely. Facing him stood a striking looking woman with a well-contoured body. She wore her ash blonde hair scraped back and tied in a tight ponytail. Her attractive green eyes stared right back at him. Her brows arched as if in a constant state of surprise. Her full lips looked as if they simply wanted kissing, forever. Buzz Miller had no idea what he faced but he felt sure that she could only be there by chance and not because she deserved to be. Miller strutted around, raised his toned arms, egging on the crowd. They cheered enthusiastically, raising the volume inside the high roofed hall.

Only Jack Walcott held a different opinion. Jack, an ageing but still enthusiastic participant in these tournaments, saw it from another perspective. At the age of seventy-two, Walcott had witnessed all there was to see while practicing and teaching martial arts. He watched the blonde woman from the very first bout, when she beat him with such cunning. He saw her stealthy moves, her viper like speed, her cunning intelligence, the use of her body’s attractiveness as a distraction. He also saw some obvious street fighting moves, some Krav Maga moments as she whirled, spun, slid, danced even, in and out of her opponent’s reach, bemusing them, distracting them with her body and smile, confusing them, then beating them. She reminded him of an expert pickpocket he once knew from his army career, a supreme master at deflecting attention from the real moves.

She unexpectedly exhibited a brief hint at the knowledge of Silat. Now that did surprise him. Silat, practiced only rarely outside of Cambodia, a few parts of the Philippines and in a few corners of Malaysia, was almost unknown in the West. Walcott saw a glimpse of it as the woman rolled under the legs of a falling opponent. Her eyes focussed briefly on his genitals, an obvious and vulnerable target but not one normally attacked in traditional martial arts. He offered a wager, ten to one. He got plenty of takers.

‘The broad doesn’t have a prayer.’

‘I’ll take your money, Old Man.’

As the final bout got underway, Walcott counted a little over four thousand dollars in his tracksuit jacket pocket. He did not have forty thousand dollars anywhere so she had better win, he thought.

The referee stepped back and waved them to join the fight. Charlie stepped to the centre of the ring. She smiled a broad, friendly smile, showing her teeth. She extended her right hand, offering to shake his. He took it; she shook it and pulled just enough to rock his upper body forward by an inch. He sensed the trap, he pulled back as he let go, too late. The heel of Charlie’s left hand struck his right cheek and nose with full force.

‘Blood! There is blood!’

The hall shook with the screams and shouts.

‘That fucking bitch is dead! Nobody has ever drawn blood since I was in the Marines. She is just so fucking dead. She should have just taken her beating like a man and she wouldn’t suffer. Now, she is gonna feel real fucking pain, dumb bitch. Who the fuck does she think she is, treating me like a fucking amateur.’

  He wiped the blood from his nose, just a smear, but still, blood and that made him mad. Two minutes into the bout and Buzz had failed to connect with one good strike.

‘She is fucking quick.’

Charlie ducked, weaved parried and attacked to keep him busy. She aimed blows at his head, occasionally getting through his defences and scoring points. She retreated so quickly that Aldrin barely had time to land a blow. She pulled on her cropped halter-top; it had ridden up, exposing the under curve of her breasts. She ducked and rolled, trying an amateurish looking sweep kick. Her long right leg swept towards Buzz’s feet. He jumped, easily avoiding the kick. He landed but somehow her feet had returned; they connected with his ankles the instant he landed. The rapid and unexpected change of direction caught him out and he went down.

He thrust out his right arm to prevent both shoulders from touching the ground. The crowd of spectators cheered, screamed and stamped their feet. Charlie sprang acrobatically to her feet without using her hands, levering herself upright from her shoulders. She stood, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet, arms at her sides, prepared for the next assault. Her opponent sprang up with almost equal agility, but he landed a second behind Charlie.

She grinned, a little smirk of a grin, making sure he saw it. She pulled down on her tight top once more. His dark eyes glared back at her. He had never been flat on his back since his service days, never. He had to step it up a gear, stop pissing around. She was good. He landed a few scoring hits to the woman’s head and upper body, but right now, that early slap and the cleverly timed trip meant she was ahead on points. An almost invisible welt under her left eye showed he at least scored one effective blow. Two hundred and fifty-five pounds of well-defined muscle faced a slip of a woman who could not weigh more than one-forty. He implemented one of his favourite tricks. He allowed the woman to attack and get in close; he grabbed her forearm and turned her body away from him, much to her surprise. It was almost too easy. He unleashed a killer straight-fingered jab to her exposed kidney. He aimed to end it now by damaging the organ, probably permanently. It never landed.

Charlie reversed her left arm behind her and caught his extended fingers in the palm of her hand. She flung herself to the right and away from him, maintaining her powerful grip on his fingers just long enough to ensure that all of them bent painfully backwards. She gripped on the little finger for a second longer. The crowd in the front rows heard the pop as it dislocated from the joint. They roared and stamped their feet. The pain shot through Miller like a hot knife. It was kill or be killed. The red mist rose in front of him. He winced as he reset his finger joint back in place.

‘Fuck you Lady. You should not have done that. Stand still a minute and let me show you how it’s done.’

Sixty three seconds later, it all ended in spectacular fashion.

Miller decided to end it, now. He had been showboating for the crowd, allowing her to get a few slaps around his head and arms. She got lucky with the earlier blow to his face, and the trip, and the finger shit. Charlie wheeled in a wide circle. The crowd looked on expectantly. They sense that their local hero had put up with enough from this stranger, this woman. He stepped forward, lunged for her head and upper body with rapid, short jabs of his flat hands. So swift were his moves that the onlookers barely noticed that the woman parried or blocked every blow. Charlie frowned in concentration; the sweat glistened on her honed body. Her dark, wet vest clung to her attractively mobile breasts; her ridged torso glistened with sweat below the short top. She shuffled back from the onslaught. Her eyes stared into his; he kept looking for an opening. Charlie could only go so far back before the obstacle of the encircling crowd would stop her. The crowd sensed a finale coming soon. His speed and skill were showing now. He was scoring at last. Charlie took several scoring hits on her head and to her stomach. She began to suffer. He beat her back by the sheer brute strength and speed of the onslaught.

Charlie caught the expectant gleam of triumph in his eyes as he saw the fast approaching ring of onlookers behind her. Charlie had nowhere to go. Behind her, one of Buzz’s associates stood, his arms outstretched gripping his neighbours’ wrists. Charlie backed into him, as if by accident. She stepped away, just a little, a calculated distance, just far enough from the man but not too close to her opponent. The man behind her raised his foot to connect with her backside and pushed her back into the centre of the ring of spectators. Charlie appeared to stumble forward and fell to her knees. Her head bowed; her hands jabbed forward to stop her fall, but only one of them touched the ground. She was almost on her face from the seemingly brutal kick in her back. Miller looked down at Charlie’s exposed neck. He raised his arms; his two clenched fists prepared to swing rapidly down, aimed at the back of her neck. If he connected with full force, he would do some real damage or even, quite possibly, kill her. He took a half pace forward and began the coup de grace.

Miller did not see the blow that ended the bout for him. It came from nowhere. It surprised everyone in the hall, particularly Miller himself. The only one in the audience expecting the blow was Walcott. It emerged from below her head, beginning its journey from around about her right hip, hidden but deadly until it was too late for him to do anything about it. Her extended knuckles struck the delicate flesh between his legs. The force of the blow ripped Miller’s urethra and vas deferens from his penis. One of his transverse perineum muscles split roughly in half and his prostate gland ruptured. She pulverized his right testicle. Charlie’s knuckles buried deep in the most delicate and vulnerable part of Miller’s body for a second as she allowed the energy from her fist to radiate through his body. Anyone who has seen a Bruce Lee movie will know that he maintained contact for a second after delivering the knock-out blow. He didn’t do it for the movie effect, it was a real killer technique.

Charlie suddenly appeared inches in front of him, glowering into his dumbstruck eyes. A swift, non-lethal blow to his throat with her extended right elbow put him down. His voice box shattered. He fell, pole-axed, flat on his back, choking and gagging as he rolled in agony on the ground. She followed up with a stamping kick on his upturned face, crushing the cartilage of his nose but not crushing it up onto his skull, as she could so easily have done. Charlie did not even bother with any further follow up; she knew he was staying on the floor for some considerable time. Miller would never have another erection, taking a dump would be agony and passing urine without pain would be impossible for the rest of his life. He would never again speak above a whisper.

She had triumphed, against all the odds against a fighter who turned dirty when he took that first soft blow to his nose, right at the beginning of the bout, when she drew blood. That single event, drawing blood, was what Charlie had relied on to win her the bout; his anger. Angry fighters were losers. Her father taught her that. He did not teach her the trick of removing her sports bra and tweaking her nipples to erection when she faced the wall before the bout; that was something she learned for herself. Distraction, yes!

This takes a lot of work!

New cover art for ‘It’s Been a Pleasure’

New cover for "It's Been a Pleasure'.

A FIRST TIME FOR EVERYTHING. 18+ short story.

Published today, 11th October at The Erotic Woman website, my latest offering for the erotic short story market.

Click here to read it on the site or go to the page here on my blog.

http://www.theeroticwoman.com/erotica/home_page

A Short Story

I have a short story published today on The Erotic Woman website. Here is the link, please read and rate.

http://www.theeroticwoman.com/sex_stories/melanie

3 minutes of utter magic.

This will be made into a Hollywood movie very soon. It will be 120 minutes of utter drivel and win an Oscar.

Ladies

I address my blurb to ‘Ladies’ because that is my target audience for the book, Emily’s Pleasures. It is written as a tongue in cheek sexual manual to learn a wonderful, but I suspect not new way, to masturbate. A woman friend of mine admitted to me one day that she had never done it. I offered to write her an instruction manual. At the age of 26, she had her first orgasm after following my instructions. I have since added and expanded to the book into its present form. So, Ladies, 20-50 or beyond, this is written with you in mind! Please enjoy.