Rumble in the DoJo

This will be my first posting on Literotica. It is a big deal for me. As I assume most writers are, I am my own worst critic. So, I don't normally let anyone read my writing.

This story is loosely based on true events, unfortunately we did not get as far as this story illustrates -- but it's always been a fantasy of mine.

I do not claim to be able to write well, but I'll do my best. Comments are welcomed, constructive criticism is as well.

While I was writing this, I did not mean for it to be so long. I apologize for that. If that turns you off to it, I'm sorry. The "good stuff" happens around the middle of the story.

Hope you enjoy it.

******

The place stank.

It smelled of sweat, tears, and feet. It was noisy too, now that I was focused on my other senses besides sight. In my line of work, you tend to do that. The noises were loud, but muted -- if that made any sense at all. Grunting and groans, loud shouts and heavy breathing, sounds of flesh hitting flesh, and bodies hitting the ground.

And every so often the gasping sound of someone in pain.

That same gasp escaped my own throat as a semi-perfectly executed side kick slammed into my stomach, the guard strapped to my chest only taking a small portion of the damage. Shouldn't get distracted while sparring.

You see, I was a martial arts instructor, Tae Kwon Do -- with a little bit of everything else thrown in there. Should have led with that, huh? The man in front of me grinned, a cheeky grin from ear to ear that was only barely visible under the padded plastic helmet he wore. Of course, he'd be smug about that hit. It was a solid hit; my breath was still having trouble catching up to me. I was also the instructor, the black belt around my waist with three gold stripes on the tips of the belt compared to his red one.

"Don't get smug, Jimmy." I said after a minute, wiping imaginary dust off the padding on my chest. "Never get smug, it's a weakness. You make mistakes. The opponent will jump at those mistakes."

"Yes, sir, of course, sir." Jim said. He was middle age, started classes to be closer with his children but he was the one who was more addicted to it. Problems in his life, hitting things tend to help relieve stress. Won't get into it, he's not the main character of this story.

Despite him agreeing with me, he still had a smug look on his face as we squared off again. I took a relaxed stance, my hands falling lower than was normal. My guard wasn't as high as should be. Jim attacked quickly, taking the opening. Mistake number one. He brought in another side kick, his foot aiming for the exact spot he had hit before. Mistake number two. Never use the same attacks. Difference between student and teacher.

Side stepping the kick, one hand came up quickly to deflect the punch he instinctively threw out. Another side step brought me to his left side, causing him to turn. If he was smart (never said he wasn't, just inexperienced) he'd turn with an attack. He did, turning the opposite way bringing his leg into a back-hook kick. This I expected as well. My own foot came up and pushed out directly into his right ass cheek. His momentum and my power caused him spin to stop prematurely making him stumble forward.

His stumble turned him around, which I was waiting for. Jumping forward I brought one knee to my chest then pushed it out, a side kick of my own -- though admittedly with a little better technique. If you've never done any martial arts training you might not understand, but technique is everything. You hear it all the time. I can't vouch for other sports, but a stronger man with less technique would not be able to out kick or punch a weaker with great technique. I'm living proof of that.

My kick landed home with a loud clapping sound. Loud enough to outdo the rest of the students sparring around them. Those closest turned to look. They didn't see much, just Jimmy being kicked back at least three feet through the air. Performing a backwards roll when he landed. Finally stopping on his back with a grunt.

"Lesson learned, sir." Jimmy groaned out while he sprawled on the mats covering the floor.

"Glad to hear, Jimmy, take a break." I said as I stretched a little. My hand reaching behind me to pull the tie of the gear I wore and quickly shimmied out of it. Time to go instruct I suppose.

There was a lot more to teaching martial arts than just knowing how to punch or kick well. Looking out over the pairs, you had to be careful. There were times when the biggest man in class would work with the smallest. Mainly to teach the smaller that size only meant for so much. There were times when a man could work with a woman. Those were tricky situations. In my experience a surprising percentage of women do sports like this because of problems in their life. Or someone close to them. You had to be careful when partnering up a man and a woman.

Hell, I had to be careful partnering up with a particular woman in this class. Luckily, as instructor I didn't technically have to spar.

This woman was currently squaring off with a woman in her late middle age. Her name was Jessica, the young one not the middle age one, and she was drop dead gorgeous. Dirty blonde hair, currently hidden by a helmet, cut short so that it barely covered her ears. I was pretty sure it was dyed, but I never really asked about it. Her face was beautiful, soft lines covered her. The classic "girl-next-door". Puffy, soft looking full lips that would feel great just about anywhere. Long eyelashes that battered without Jessica knowing herself. Bright blue eyes that sparkled when she laughed, or sent a strong right hook to someone's head.

I smiled at her as I passed, it was a good hit. Her opponent did a double take, holding up a hand to ask for a break, which Jessica gave, putting her hands behind her head to catch her breathing.

Though the gear hid most of her body, I've checked her out enough times that I could visualized what it looked like. Besides getting a decent workout here most nights, she went to the gym. Underneath he plastic and the thick material of our uniforms was a body tight with muscles. Not overtly so, I doubted she could beat me in an arm wrestling match, but it accentuated her feminine curves. And curves she had. Underneath the armor her breasts, restrained by a sports bra, were just about perfectly formed (I had the privilege of seeing her in a tight black dress once). At a guess, I'd say D cup, or possible DD -- not really the best guestimator of this type of thing -- but I've seen a few in my time.

She smiled back at me and I felt my heart skip a beat. Or possibly just a shot of blood going down lower than said heart -- considering where my thoughts were at that particular moment in time.

To finish the candy of the eye variety, I let my vision travel down pass her hidden bosom. To the place where I knew had hips that never moved without sashaying side to side, pretty sure she doesn't do that on purpose. I've never seen her hips walk in a straight line. Around her back was a nice, hand-filling bottom that had a tendency to jiggle when she jumped (so I creep a bit, you would too -- trust me). And legs that could go on for miles.

Breaking my mind out of that particular spiral, I gave her a friendly nod. "Nice hit, Jessica." She smiled at me again, God what I wouldn't do to see that smile more often.

"Chiriut!" Now, outside of this place, I was a quiet guy. Introverted to the extreme. I prefer solitude, I prefer quiet. But once I put on my do-bok (uniform, same thing as gi for those unfamiliar with Korean wordage in Tae Kwon do) I was a completely different person. I was outgoing in the school, not shy at all, I could talk (obviously, I was employed as a fucking teacher in this place), and most of all be loud. My word echoed around the walls and very quickly the sparring partners stopped.

This was the last class of the day, and my bones were tired. Fifteen minutes left of class though and all eyes were on me. "Gear off, doing some drills." I announced to them, and they moved into action quickly. This next part is when one had to be careful partnering up male and female. Especially in these troubling times, when a law suit was easier to start up then finding a well-paying job. I've seen good men, instructors, black belts I trained with for years, be sent to jail for a misplaced rumor.

"Face your partner, work on take downs." I did mention we weren't just Tae Kwon Do, right? We throw in a bit of Judo, a bit of Jiu-Jitsu, a bit of everything. "If your back is towards the mirrors, try to take your partner down first. Attack and defend, your goal is to not fall. Switch when you hit the floor. Go!"

On my command, they started. And I ignored them for the most part. This was their last workout. It was tough trying to take someone down, it was tough trying to stop being taken down, and of course, it was a great workout when gravity was involved. Turning I faced the mirror that filled up an entire wall. I wasn't by no means highly attractive, I also wasn't ugly. I'd say "average" but I knew, somewhere inside, that was me hating on myself. I was attractive, slightly above if people in my past were to be believed. I kept my dark brown hair cropped close to my head. Strong features on my face, having what some would call "resting-bitch-face", I always looked angry. My eyes, matching Jessica's blue, were probably the most striking feature I possessed. They were a bright icy blue near the middle, fading out into a darker navy blue.

My body was in shape for the most part. The muscles on my arms were well defined from over twenty years of throwing punches five days a week, though I had a bit of a stomach. Hey, I thought healthy ways of living -- doesn't mean I followed them. Even with the softness, anyone who felt there could feel the muscles twitching underneath the small belly. My legs were also well defined, again, twenty years of kicking my ass off. I had to show for it some way.

My eyes locked on Jessica and her partner. Jessica was a great fighter, when she was standing on her feet. She had the build of a runner, long muscles meant for speed. She was a terror if she was throwing kicks or punches at her way. But get her on the ground, or even the attempt, she fumbled. She knew the proper holds, the proper techniques, but knowing and executing were two different things. The middle age woman could take her down quite easily, and it took the object of my current desire quite a number of times to finally get her opponent on the ground.

Fifteen minutes went by quickly watching bodies rise and fall and stand still (those few who couldn't move or be moved). I've bored you so far with this, haven't I? I'll skip the class announcements made at the end of each class, skip the clean-up -- me yelling at the younger children to help their parents put things away, and skip the good byes that were the norm. I was about to change out of my do-bok and into my street clothes when the sound of a throat clearing behind me made me jump. I mean, not jump, really. I'm a third-degree black belt, a few trophies from tournaments adorned my house. Third-degree black belts don't jump. So, I jumped at the sound and turned. Shut up. Don't look at me like that.

It was Jessica, a hand covering her mouth as she hid back her laugh. I knew she was laughing, cause her eyes were sparkling in the fluorescent light. "Sir?" She asked behind her laugh.

I coughed a ran a hand through my short hair. "Ah, yes, just...you know... Practicing?" I said, feeling my cheeks flush.

She couldn't hold it anymore and started laughing. The laugh was like fire, engulfing everything around her. It didn't take long before I was laughing about it too. Calming down I gave her a playful smile. "What's up, Jessica, you are usually the first one out of here."

"Oh, right, I was wondering if you could help me for a bit?" She asked, smiling and for some reason, blushing. "I absolutely suck at take downs and defenses."

"I noticed." I teased. Hey, she made me jump. I mean, she didn't make me jump. Shut up! She's pretty. "Uh, I mean... I have a little time. Don't really need to be anywhere." I should mention it was a Friday night. I didn't have anywhere to be. A frozen meal, and a cold beer. My life was awesome, I say sarcastically.

Smiling again she turned and walked back on the mats, me following. "So, the thing with take downs is knowing your opponent's center of gravity. You figure that out, and use the techniques you know, you can take down anyone of any size." I explained as we squared off. I had to be careful. Really careful. Remember what I said before? Many a good man ruined by a rumor? I could be ruined by a certain hard extremity pushing against this woman. Keeping my mind clear and focused on the movements. I explained where the best place to use two certain take downs. One was best for below the center of gravity, one was above. I know my body pretty well, and told her exactly how to take me down. "Now, I'm not going to go easy, I'll defend." She nodded, gave me an affirmative then got into a fighting position.

She moved forward, her arms attempting to encircle just below my hip line. Dropping my body weight down, I could feel her push against me. "Good." I told her as I took a step back, effectively moving that center. "Now, twist with it. Don't try to tackle." I said grunting with effort to stay up. I said she went regularly to the gym, right? "I'm a good foot taller than you, brute force won't do you here. Hip toss. Twist with it, put your weight behind it and I'll g...Ooof." Apparently, she was listening. And I was suddenly on my back, with Jessica sprawled overtop of me, one half to my left, her torso on my stomach.

My pervvy mind kicked in and I could feel her breasts pushing against me. She rubbed slightly, those orbs of greatness squishing against me even through her sports bra. She laughed as she propped herself up on an elbow, much to my chagrin as her chest left mine. "So... Something like that?" She said giggling.

I nodded, chuckling myself which caused me to cough. "Yeah, yeah. Something like that. Good, now go topside this time. Much harder when against an opponent who is bigger than you." I said as she nodded, removing herself from atop of me. Squaring off again I nodded to her, telling her to begin. And once more she moved forward like a lightning bolt. Quick as can be. Take downs work best taking out the lower balance of an opponent. But manipulated correctly, you can bring them down by using their upper half. Exponentially harder to get to as well, easier to defend against, at least in my experience. I side stepped her first charge but she grabbed me by the arm, turning so that her back was against my chest.

"Bad move." I warned her, my free arm snaking around her throat and pulling just enough for her to feel the pressure. She gasped at it. "Only put your back to an opponent like this if they don't see it coming." She grinned over her shoulder at me, and I realized that her rear, that hand-filling bottom, was pressed against me. Now, either something in my body language betrayed me. Or she wiggled like that on purpose, but she was able to twist out of my weak hold. Her grip on my arm tightened as she pushed her body forward, forcing herself into a forward roll. With her grip, I had no choice but to follow, and I felt my back slam down on the mats my air once more escaping me. "Gah!" I managed as she fell back on top of me. This time she ended between my legs, her head was resting against my chin. And she was laughing again.

"Got you again." She said smugly. The instructor part of me wanted to give her the same warning I had given Jimmy. The male part of me once more noticed those nice soft breasts pressing hard against my chin. Could smell her scent, apparently cherry blossoms were a shampoo who knew, mixed with the sweat smell of one who just did an hour-plus of hard work. "Thank you, sir, for the, ah, help..." She said softly. Soft words, those were new from her. She was usually cheerful, happy, and her voice matched. She was still happy, I could tell by her eyes. But her speaking softly was new.

"Hey... It's my job." I said, matter-of-factly. It wasn't lost on my that a woman just put me, literally, flat on my ass. I had to sound like it was an everyday occurrence for me.

"So... I have a question, and it might be a bit of an odd one." She said, in that same soft voice. I finally recognized the tone... It was seductive. Either that, or my mind just wanted it to be.

"Shoot." I said as I lifted my head up to look down at her, she was looking up at me. Apparently, she had moved so that her face was closer to mine. I don't know how I missed that, with her resting atop of me and all that. But there it was. I was about to try to back up before she erased the last few inches between us and those lips, those wonderful, soft looking lips pressed against mine. They were soft. Extremely so, and I was right -- they did feel wonderful.

So, we were there. Kissing. Kissing a woman who I have had a crush on for coming on three years now since she joined us. Kissing a student, which is something I always told myself I wouldn't do. It wasn't simple kisses either, those soft ones you give to friends when you say goodbye. They were passionate, fiery, they burned me up inside. At first I was startled, going through the motions I was used to. Then she moaned against me, and I broke. Pushing against her lips as my arms wrapped around her waist.

I felt her tongue pushing against my lips. Knocking on the door to gain entrance. I folded, my lips parting to the wet appendage as it forced its way into my mouth. My tongue greeted it, and they started to play ring-around-the-rosie with each other. She moaned again, this time not as muffled as she sucked my tongue into her mouth. Toying with it as I felt her hands slip between us. My body became excited quickly, but I realized she was going for my belt. Untying it clumsily considering where I assume most of her brain power was going to how she was feeling. I know that's where my mind was. The feeling of our kissing, the feeling of her tongue wrestling with mine.

An eternity later, a blissful, euphoric eternity but an eternity nonetheless, I felt the familiar tug of my belt being force from around my waist. It was then that she finally broke the kiss, breathing heavily as she brought her body from mine. "Three times." Her voice was that seductive tone still, her smile was easy to come as her blue eyes gazed into mine. "I have wanted to do that for three fucking years."

"As have I." I said chuckling. Feeling her move her legs so that she was straddling me, her crotch pressing against my already hard member.

"Why not act on it?" She asked, placing her hands on my chest as she grinded against me, gasping softly. "I gave you enough hints."

Shaking my head I chuckled. "Guys don't get you girl-hints. We are oblivious. Besides, I made a promise not to get involved with a student."

"Ah. And now?"

"Now... I don't give a fuck." With that sentence I gripped her hips, turning my body over, and her with me so that we flipped. Rolling on the mat so that I was on top, between her legs. Her gasp of excitement was all she had time for before my lips pressed against hers. My tongue forcing its way inside. No knocking this time, no reason too, she was expecting it.

She moaned against my lips as my hands traveled down her body, passing over her breasts and down her sides before they found her belt. I wasn't as clumsy with the belt as she had been. Twenty years taking those things off and putting them on. I've literally tied my belt while I was asleep once. Story for another time. It took two moans (that was my measure of time, the only measure of time I cared about at the moment) to get it off. Before I could claim victory, I felt her leg wrap around one of my ankles and we flipped again.