Stumbling Towards Ecstasy

Creativity dedicated to the Heart, Mind, and Soul

Lemon JAM Chapter 3

Game Time

Is this real enough for you
You were so confused
Now that you’ve decided to stay
We’ll remain together
You can’t abandon me
You belong to me
Breathe in and take my life in you
No longer myself only you
There’s no escaping me, my love

~Surrender, Evanescence

They had never gone against each other in hand to hand combat. It was some sort of unspoken agreement between Ed and Parker not to have them challenge each other, until today.

Then Ed announced the next teaming, “Jules and Sam.”

Her eyebrows rose in surprise and Sam gave a slight leer at the news. Jules was already hot and sweaty after combat with Spike, beating him eventually. And Sam, while certainly sweating after some hand to hand with Wordy, looked at this opportunity with anticipation. He was still smarting from the other night. She’d tried to talk about it, but he hadn’t been listening. Funny thing was, he wanted to hear what she had to say, but not in the SUV on the way to a hot call, careful to have the mics off, or after a long day after shift . And she hadn’t been willing to do it any other way. They were at an impasse.

They both put back on their protective gear…the knee and elbow pads, the head gear to protect from kicks. While the practice was to pull punches and kicks to prevent real harm to the combatants, padding was still required just in case.

The two contenders went to the center floor that marked the training area, circling each other as the combatants they were, measuring each other. They knew each others’ strengths and weaknesses; they’d seen the other fight enough in close quarters.  But how that would help them in this situation was unknown.

Jules feinted and Sam moved in when she pulled him into a surprise headlock, while her legs temporarily pinned him in place. With his ear held close to her mouth, she whispered, “All’s fair in love and war…”

“So, anything goes?”

With that, he immediately broke the hold and spun her so her arm was around her back making her cry out in real pain, knocking her legs out from under her. Wordy cried foul, but Ed and Parker let it go…for now.

He leaned into her ear this time, whispering, “Let’s play for stakes. Nod if you agree.” She gritted her teeth and barely moved her head against him. “Good, if I win, you agree to have dinner with me. Enthusiastically have dinner with me,” he corrected. He didn’t want her to sulk during dinner. He wanted a real date.

“And if I win?”

Sam paused before answering, “I guess whatever you want…” afraid she might say she wanted him to leave her alone or something along those lines.

Instead, he heard words that made his heart almost explode, “You accept my apology and we move on.”

He laughed, happily. Regardless who won, all was right with the world again. He let her go and stepped back. “Game on.” He knew the whole team had heard him, even though they hadn’t heard the whispered exchange.

She flipped him backwards, twisting his arm, pinning him to the ground, holding him there, holding him in a choke hold with her thighs around his neck. She broke off as he started to cough and rolled away out of reach. The goal of krav maga was to avoid ending up on the ground… point for her.

Sam rebounded, stood, and they glared at each other from across the training circle. He outweighed her easily by at least 70 pounds and yet she had taken him twice.

The conflict continued…a kick to the kidney here, a palm heel strike there, a round kick to the stomach. The punches might be pulled but they still hurt. Sam caught one of Jules’ high kicks and used her momentum to flip her backwards onto the mat, knocking the breath out of her with an ‘umph’. Spike and Woody yelled from the sidelines, but Jules caught her breath and determinedly got up and the fight continued.

Combat went on and on. It was like a violent dance between lovers…a tango to the death of sorts. The harder they fought, the more their bodies touched, climbing over each other, rough, throwing, slamming, that even with the team watching, it was like everyone and everything had fallen away into a misty fog and all that remained was the two of them… sweaty, hot, grasping, breathing hard, desperate, and aroused. They were close enough to each other to smell the sweat on each other, to smell the sex, the need. Every time they touched their bodies were slick, full contact brought a searing heat they could both feel, burning through their clothing. The competition became more determined, the urgency of their need driving them to carelessness.

As they both approached exhaustion, she pinned him, all of her weight distributed, holding his arms at his shoulder sockets making it difficult and painful for him to move his arms. Her ankles wrapped around the top of his groin, pressing her lower body to his, her heat to his, with her feet pinning his knees to the mat. It was an unfair advantage, but at this point in the game, she was willing to use whatever it took. It was time for this to end.

Wordy and Spike whooped at how she seemed to have Sam defeated, either unaware or ignoring the intensity radiating from the two bodies.

She leaned her face close to his, “Do you give?”

Sam gave a throaty laugh, deep with passion, “No way. I feel like being on top this time.” And with that, he promptly flipped her under him, crushing her body with his, making it hopeless for her to break away from him, almost impossible for her to even breathe.

“There, that is much better I think,” he smirked at her and with an unnoticeable movement to onlookers, he pushed against Jules’ private opening, bringing them together intimately, separated only by their clothing. Her eyes went wide as she felt the fullness of him, his length and width leaving no doubt in her mind what he wanted from her, how he would fill her completely, leaving her breathless and wanting more. Her own wetness, the musky scent of her arousal that surrounded them left no doubt for him what her body craved from him. Her mind might not want to admit it, but her body gave her away every time.

God, what a complicated web we weave.

“Are you ready?” he smirked at the double meaning.

Unwilling to give up without a fight, Jules struggled and finally slapped the floor indicating her surrender, her surrender in the hand-to-hand, her surrender to her need, her surrender to him.


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