Monday, 5 January 2015

My night out with a martial artist

I went to the Military Museum in London. Don't know why on earth I started with the Holocaust. It was pretty basic, so I got bored. But then I did need a coffee. There was this woman standing at the bar. She slowly bent backwards and- fainted. Her boyfriend was just looking startled. But our hero darted from the other side of the room and caught her. He let himself fall on the floor underneath her, held her head, then turned her onto her side within a second, shouted at her in Japanese. I recognized my type of martial arts. The woman woke up.
My paper cup in my hand, I drifted over there and said: ”Rei.” He greeted back. His blue eyes stared straight into mine. He was breathing heavily and that wasn't because of the little exercise. “I am bored”, I said. “Shall we wander around the canons and other nasty little objects?” He smiled from left to right.
We were just pretending to look at the bombs, rockets and drones. Instead, we were checking out each others muscles, bones structure, movements. Scanning for weaknesses.
“Where do you live?”, I asked. “Around the corner,” he said in his broad Irish dialect. “Let's go”, I said. We walked in silence. After a while he stopped and pulled out a key from the front pocket of his tight jeans. It's a guys' flat. It smelled a bit, wasn't really clean. There was no decoration and no clutter. Things were a bit worn out, the colours dark. No TV. He doesn't spend much time here, I thought. “Your flatmate is not at home?”, I asked. I sat on a chair, disregarding the couch. He offered me beer and I pretended to drink it. He underestimates me that much, I think. That's good. I said: “Give me your spare gee. Take a shower and put yours on.” Minutes later he came in, fully in white, with his belt tied around his waist as if it was a part of his body. I had changed as well. “Walk to the bedroom”, I said. I pushed him onto the bed landing on top of him. We were so in sync, it felt like one body instead of two. “Uh”, he exclaimed in lust. “Kiss my neck”, I said. His tongue pressed passionately over my neck muscles. I felt my gee getting soaked with my pussy juices. The bastard had calculated that moment and suddenly was on top of me, squatting on my chest and pressing his thighs against my arms besides my head. “Free yourself”, he said with a fucking smile. I tried to push his legs away, but my arms weren't stronger than his legs. He inclined his upper body forward so that I couldn't reach it with my legs. I turned my body to one side so that he had to put an arm to the side to keep his balance. That was the second where my feet shot forward, locked under his armpit and I was pulling him backwards. My other leg was trying to catch him like a tentacle. He lifted my arm and twisted it sidewards. Huh! He fell for the trap. Because that meant breaking the head lock he had me in. Before he noticed, I had grabbed his legs and spread them and was now on top of him. He tried to squeeze his legs and put me into head scissors, but my elbows were preventing that. Since he couldn't win against my legs with my arms, he opened my belt with my teeth and exposed my chest. I hadn't anticipated that and my whole body was tingling. It gave him a second, in which he managed to push away my forearms with his arms. He wanted to put me in scissors, but I quickly stood up. He grabbed my calf with his hands and pushed my kneecap sideways with his sole. I had to let myself fall but while doing so kicked him in the balls. So I had a second, where his brain wasn't working. I locked his arm with my legs and pulled. He didn't want a broken arm, so he tapped. So I had one wish free. I opened his trousers and pulled them down a bit, so that he couldn't move his legs any more. I used his disappointment to turn him on his front and sat on top of him. From there it was pretty easy. I managed to fish the strap on out of my handbag. Why did I bring that to the Museum anyway? It took light acrobatic skills to put it on while I had him in a lock. He moved his head violently but that did not loosen my lock. I put my arms around his upper body, locked them and squeezed. Then, he started talking Irish, because he knew that hearing his sexy voice would weaken me. Damn, he pushed one thigh so strongly against mine, that I tripped over. But I still had his head in a lock. He gathered all his weight in his head it seemed and pushed against my left boob. I had to turn to the side, if I didn't want to get injured. But apparently that had worn him out, because I managed to pressed his arms down and push against his back. He had to let go, if he didn't want his shoulder pulled. He lied on his front and I pushed my strap-on up his ass. He was well stretched, so it didn't hurt him. He shook his upper body violently but I knew that he was enjoying it. Between our bodies a wet film. We were both breathing heavily. The strap-on pushing against my clit made me come quickly. I was pushing my hips with all my strength. I put his head in a lock. Then he exploded. Shouting loudly. And right before he finished, I came again, also shouting, seeing the first world war cannon in front of me for some reason. “What a nice trip to the museum”, he said catching his breath. “Bring me a double shot on ice”, I replied.