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Message-ID: <43791asstr$1060258202@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Vulgar Argot" <VulgarArgotREMOVEALL@CAPSinsidejoke.tv>
Subject: {ASSM} Sparring Partners (tags at bottom)
Date: Thu,  7 Aug 2003 08:10:02 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

Sparring Partners
by Vulgar Argot
(Tags at Bottom to avoid spoilerage)

Vanessa had expected Baleville to seem smaller each time she took leave from
the Corps. Somehow, it never did. Now, after nine months in the desert,
seeing nothing but temporary camps and villages that barely even qualified
for the name, it seemed impossibly huge and vaguely opulent.

Even stranger, they'd held a parade for her, Jenna Wilkins, and Doug Haley
when they'd come back from the Gulf, like they'd done something particularly
heroic while there. When her parents had asked if she'd liked the parade,
she hadn't had the heart to tell them that, if you wanted to show a soldier
gratitude, making them spend the day marching probably wasn't the way to
start.

Since then, nearly every day seemed to bring at least one well-wisher out of
the woodwork. They all wanted to hear war stories and seemed to think
Vanessa was being modest when she admitted she had none. At first, she was
worried that she was boring them, but she soon realized that they were
coming not just to listen, but to see her. People had been surprised when
she'd decided to join the Corps out of high school. In school, she'd been
shy and quiet to the point of invisibility. People wanted to see what had
become of her.

When they did see her again, many of them nodded as if seeing something
Vanessa herself did not. She may be a good deal more toned than she'd been
and have much shorter hair, but she hadn't changed much. It was her own
secret disappointment that she still wasn't what she'd gone away to
become--a Marine.

Sure, she'd done four years of active service, earning the rank of corporal.
She was still in the reserves and, if she played her cards right during
college, might even be an officer one day. But, she was still the same
person.

Of all the people who had come to see her, the one person she was hoping
would show up hadn't. When she'd realized that he probably wasn't coming,
Vanessa had briefly been angry with him. But, that was stupid. He might not
even know she was home or that she would like to see him. Hell, he might be
married by now for all she knew.

She'd managed to make inquiries, keeping them as casual as possible. Vanessa
had been embarrassed by her schoolgirl crushes when she was in school. That
she would hold onto one as a grown woman was too much to admit to anyone. It
came out in pieces. He still lived in Baleville and had opened a small
martial arts studio downtown. Vanessa found no way to ask if he were married
without her motives being too obvious for her own taste.

So far, all Vanessa had done was inquire. She'd had the information for two
weeks and done nothing with it. Even now, staring at herself in the
three-way mirror, she was still debating whether or not to go through with
it.

She'd only come into town to reconnoiter his studio. Caught staring at the
nondescript storefront by a student, she'd only ducked into the dress shop
to make it look like she wasn't lurking. The shop owner had taken her by the
arm and insisted that she knew "just the dress that would be perfect" for
Vanessa. Staring at the woman who was guiding her to the back of the shop,
Vanessa realized it was her former Spanish teacher, Mrs. Coleman.

Because it was easier than explaining, particularly to a teacher, Vanessa
had tried the dress on. As she was undressing, she'd hatched upon a mad
plan. Frowning at herself in the mirrors, she realized that it wasn't so
much a plan as it was an old fantasy, edited for modern circumstances. The
realization made her muscles tighten and her chest flush bright red.

"It's not that indecent, sweetie," said Mrs. Coleman. "It's really quite
lovely on you."

Grateful to have the dress to focus on, Vanessa examined herself more
closely. The dress was actually both indecent and lovely. Made of a silky
navy blue material, it looked like it should be translucent, but wasn't. It
covered her from neck to calf in the front, was slit up the side and
practically non-existent in the back. Because of that, Vanessa was unable to
wear a bra with it. The sensation of it rubbing against her nipples made
them quite visible through the thin material.

Staring in the mirror, Vanessa laughed at the absurdity of it all, "This
would be perfect for me if I were going to the Oscars. But, I don't know
when I would wear it in real life."

"Every girl should have a dress like this if she can get away with it," said
Mrs. Coleman. "You can wear it to any kind of formal event, like a
graduation or a dinner party or a wedding if you want to show up the bride.
With your figure and those bright, blue eyes..."

Vanessa frowned, "I have my dress uniform for that."

"Uniform?" asked Mrs. Coleman. "Wait a minute. You're Vanessa Kunzer aren't
you? Girl, I didn't recognize you at all. You look so different--taller and
toned and so much more confident."

Vanessa laughed, "I'm not any taller than I was in school--or any more
confident for that matter. It's the dress."

Mrs. Coleman shook her head, "I noticed it when you were standing outside,
staring across the street. I made this dress almost a year ago and have been
looking for the right person to put it on ever since. I knew it was for you
as soon as I saw you. I can't believe you're Vanessa Kunzer. You were a
mousy, little thing in high school. Now you're..." She seemed at a lost for
words. "Well, you're all grown up."

Vanessa thought that the older woman was just trying to flatter her to make
a sale, but she couldn't bring herself to contract her teacher. So, she just
smiled and said, "Thank you."

Now, it was Mrs. Coleman who laughed, "I can see you don't believe it. I
tell you what. Why don't you take that dress, wear it somewhere appropriate,
and tell me if you still don't see it?"

Vanessa shook her head, "I don't think I can afford..."

Mrs. Coleman waved her to silence, "I love making dresses like that, but
nobody in this town ever gives me a chance. Wear it some place you want
attention. If you like it, you'll be back for more."

Vanessa frowned again, "I couldn't..."

"You can," said Mrs. Coleman. "And, when you wear it, smile. You frown too
much. You're much prettier when you smile."

Driven by the impulsiveness of the gesture, Vanessa had left the store
carrying her street clothes and stashed them in the car. Glancing around the
municipal lot where she'd parked, she shucked off her panties and added them
to the pile of clothes. They would never work with the dress. It had to be a
thong or nothing.

Three steps away from the car, Vanessa almost turned and ran. Wearing the
dress and nothing else, she felt impossibly bold. In the field, modesty had
often been a luxury, but she'd never been brazen about it.

Still, her feet drew her forward. She'd faced combat. She'd faced
bombardment. She could face rejection.

The night was still warm enough that the air conditioning still came as a
shock. She might have turned back then and there, but a chime announced her
entrance and, in the second of hesitation, he was there, exactly as Vanessa
remembered him.

"Nessa," he said, recognizing her immediately. "I heard you were home."

"Clay," she said, smiling. "It's good to see you. I'm surprised to see you
didn't come by the house. Half the town has."

Despite Vanessa's attempt to keep reproach out of her voice, Clay grinned
apologetically, "I just figured you'd be up to your elbows in people. I
didn't want to intrude."

Vanessa laughed. That was just how she remembered Clay, too--unassuming and
considerate to a fault, "You wouldn't be intruding. You're an old friend."

Clay looked around, "Where are my manners. I'm just leaving you standing
here while I stare at...God, you look amazing." He shook his head as if to
clear it, "Come on in the office." He came to her, gently taking her by the
elbow and leading her through the studio.

Vanessa looked around herself as they walked through the half-lit room, "You
look like you're doing pretty well for yourself."

Clay shrugged expansively, "I'm doing all right. There aren't a lot of
students, but I've added a couple of other classes that I'm hoping will get
it back in the black."

The office was barely big enough for the desk and three chairs. Clay went
around to one side, indicating that Vanessa should sit. The chair was cool
against her back.

Clay closed a series of folders he had open on his desk, sticking them in a
drawer until the surface was clear except for a computer, "I was just
catching up on some paperwork, but catching up with an old friend strikes me
as a much better way to spend the evening--or at least, whatever part of the
evening you intend to spend here. I guess you're headed somewhere."

Vanessa nodded, but winced inside. Of course Clay would assume she was going
out. In her fantasy, she walked in the school, they said a few words and,
overcome by lust for her, Clay dragged her to the exercise mat, tore her
clothes off, and made love to her. What was she doing here? She'd never
seduced anyone. She didn't know the first thing about how to do it.

If this were her fantasy, Vanessa would say, "No, silly. I wore this for
you." But, her mouth would not open to utter those words. Instead, she
nodded mutely, then added, "I finally got away from the house. I'm going to
a club."

Clay raised an eyebrow, "Dressed like that? Alone?"

Vanessa wanted to scream. How could Clay look at her, dressed as she was,
and revert back to the big brother routine? She wanted to say, "You could
come with me and protect me." She felt the words forming on her lips, but
they wouldn't come out of her throat. Instead, she heard herself saying,
"Clay, I'm a Marine now. I can take care of myself."

She winced visibly after she said it. Stupid, stupid girl. Why not just tell
him you don't need men and be done with it?

Clay frowned at her, "I don't doubt that you can take care of yourself. But,
don't get overconfident. No matter how good you are, there's somebody out
there that can take you."

Vanessa smirked, "Like you? Do you think you can take me?" She said it
before her internal censor could stop her. She was blushing before the words
were out, but they got out and even sounded like a challenge.

Clay matched her smirk, "Come on, Nessa. That's not what I meant."

Having thrown the gauntlet, Vanessa knew she couldn't back off, "What's the
matter, Clay? You afraid to get beaten up by a girl?"

Clay's scowl deepened, but he replaced it with an insincere smile, "Yup. You
caught me, Nessa. I'm afraid I won't be able to look at myself in a mirror
if I ever lose a match to a woman."

Vanessa knew she was blowing it by being too aggressive. Clay was always too
even-tempered to be provoked like that. It had been stupid to try. She'd
just made him think less of her.

He'd always treated her like a cherished little sister. If she wanted to
provoke him, she'd have to play into that. She smiled, "Come on, big guy. I
know what I'm doing. No one's going to lay a hand on me if I don't want them
to. When was the last time you ever heard of anybody raping a Marine?"

The scowl came back, more in earnest this time, "Nessa..." he warned.

"Come on," she chided. "I just want to go out and have some fun. I'm tired
of being a returning hero."

Clay looked like he was relenting, "All right, Nessa. Just be careful."

Vanessa knew she wasn't going to get a rise out of Clay this way. She tried
the more direct approach, "I tell you what. Let's spar. If you still don't
think I can take care of myself, you can send me home to change."

Clay's face showed a mix of emotions that Vanessa couldn't read, "I don't
want you to...I..." He looked like he was reaching, "You can't spar in that
dress."

"I'll take it off," Vanessa said.

By the widening of Clay's eyes, Vanessa knew that he'd imagined her naked
before he could stop himself. She allowed herself a small, victorious smile.
It might not make him stop thinking of her as a little girl, but it was a
start. Before he was fully recovered, she added, "You can lend me a gi."

Clay nodded. Perhaps still off balance, he rose from his desk, took down a
plastic package with a folded uniform in it, black gi and white belt with
the symbol of the school on a patch over the left breast. "The locker rooms
are on the far side of the main training area. If you really want to do
this, I'll meet you on the center mat."

Vanessa took the package from Clay's hands and, before he could move,
rounded the desk to hug him. She pressed her body against his just long and
close enough to get the information she wanted. For his part, Clay had let
his fingertips brush the flesh of her back before pulling away and spent the
remainder of the hug unsure of where to position his hands.

In the locker room, shimmying out of her dress, Vanessa started to shake.
Her knees felt weak, like the first time she'd been under live fire. She'd
wanted Clay for as long as she'd had an inkling of what it meant to want a
man. It had always been a fantasy. Too many obstacles had been in the way.
When she'd been fourteen and he eighteen, the age gap seemed insurmountable.
At twenty-two and twenty-six, it was no big deal.  Clay had been her
sister's boyfriend, then ex-boyfriend, but her sister was married now and
had a child on the way.

And the hug had confirmed the last insurmountable barrier was gone. Clay may
still think of her as his ex-girlfriend's little sister, but on some level,
he wanted her.

Now, all Vanessa had to do was catch her breath and get her legs to behave.
She tried to order herself to calm down, but memories were crowding out
rational thought.

Vanessa's sister had started dating Clay their sophomore year in high
school. After complaining to her little sister for two years about bad
boyfriends and worse dates, Audrey seemed ecstatic to have Clay. She told
Vanessa, then twelve, all the details of their relationship--how he treated
her, where he brought her, how he kissed and touched her. It was the first
time Vanessa had really heard the details of such things. Before that, when
she'd closed her eyes to touch herself, she'd had only amorphous fantasies
of being touched. After those talks, the fantasies had a form and a face.

Clay and Audrey had dated all through high school. Vanessa had spent as much
time with them as Audrey would let her. She never let on to either of them
that she was developing a crush. It didn't matter. She would never do
anything about it anyway.

But, her thoughts were her own. She fantasized about movie stars, singers,
and other teen heartthrobs. But, the only real person she ever fantasized
about was Clay.

When they'd gone away to different colleges, Clay and Audrey promised to be
faithful to each other. Christmas break, Clay had come over to see Audrey
one night. When Audrey told Clay that her parents were going to be gone
until late the next day, the two of them had gone upstairs to Audrey's room,
leaving Vanessa alone on the couch with Clay's jacket.

Before Clay had arrived, Vanessa and Audrey had been drinking wine, talking,
and giggling. Once she heard the upstairs door click shut and a muffled
squeal from her sister, Vanessa had wrapped herself in Clay's jacket. It was
an unusually warm December and the jacket was faded denim. Clay'd had it for
as long as Vanessa knew him. She snuggled into the warmth of it, inhaling
deeply of his scent. She lay drowsing in it in front of the TV. Half asleep,
she'd given one last, furtive glance at the door upstairs before unzipping
her jeans and sliding her hand between her thighs. For a while, she did so
furtively, glancing every so often at the still-closed door. But eventually,
she'd closed her eyes and slid further out of her pants.

Then, suddenly, she was waking up. Clay was standing over her, his face
unreadable. There was no way he could have mistaken what Vanessa hand been
doing. She was lying there, wrapped in his jacket, her pants down around her
thighs, her hand still pressed at their junction. Vanessa froze, mortified.
Clay gave her what might have been a reassuring smile, said nothing, and
walked away. Before Vanessa could react, she heard the front door open and
gently close.

Vanessa was so horrified by having been caught that it took her a week to
touch herself again and then only behind her locked bedroom door. It wasn't
until Audrey and Clay had gone back to college that she took the jacket,
hidden at the bottom of a basket in her closet, back out. It was also the
first time she allowed herself to think about Clay in that way again.

But, it wasn't quite the same way anymore. She didn't imagine Clay doing to
her what Audrey had told her was enjoyable. Instead, imagined him waking
her, roughly. He dragged her off of the couch, stripping the pants free of
her legs as he crushed her to him. He kissed her roughly, silencing any
protests she might have. His hand parted her thighs, batting away her feeble
resistance. When he had stripped away her clothes, he crushed Vanessa to the
couch. Imagining his weight on her, his fingers bruising her breasts, she
felt her body beginning to tremble in pleasure. When his fingers dug into
her bottom, lifting her to be savagely impaled on his manhood, she came,
harder than she ever had before. It left her weak and trembling.

After that, she played the fantasy out in a hundred variations. Sometimes,
Clay was cruel or even violent. Sometimes, he dragged her out to his van
before having his way with her or brought her home and forced her to do
whatever his lust dictated, violating her in every way she could conceive
of. Gone were the fantasies of sweet, gentle, considerate Clay. And reality
did nothing to intrude. Vanessa didn't see Clay for more than a year after
that. Audrey had a new boyfriend and college. That night had been one last,
farewell fuck to send him off before she broke up with him.

The next time Vanessa saw Clay was during spring break of their sophomore
year, hers in high school, his in college. She'd run into him downtown at
the Baleville Easter Festival. Clay had greated her, hugged her, and fallen
into talking to her as if they'd seen each other the week before. Neither of
them ever mentioned that evening in December. Vanessa kept the jacket,
wrapping herself in it to sleep and dream long after it had lost any scent
of him.

Vanessa wrapped herself in her borrowed gi and slid on the pants. Taking a
deep breath, she finally began to find her inner calm. When she stepped out
onto the sparring mat, Clay stood at the far corner. He bowed at the waist
to her. Vanessa did likewise.


"Are you sure you want to do this?" Clay asked, already going into a
fighting stance. "You don't have to prove anything to me."

Vanessa nodded, "I do too. You still think I'm a twelve year-old girl. Maybe
a trouncing will show you the error of your ways."

Clay sighed, but didn't drop his stance, "I don't think you're a twelve year
old girl. I know you're  a Marine and a grown woman." He seemed to be
looking at her for some sign of relenting. Seeing none, he asked, "Half- or
no-contact?"

Vanessa bounced on her heels, "Full-contact. You're supposed to be showing
me how someone could take me down. You'd better show me. I don't trust
theory." She knew Clay was in the thrall of some powerful vision of his own
then, because he didn't protest, only nodded once before bouncing forward.

When Clay came at her with his first attack, Vanessa knew that it was just
exploratory, single and double kicks and punches thrown at different parts
of her body to gauge her responses. Vanessa blocked and dodged deliberately
without style, letting Clay think that she was unschooled in this form of
combat and would be easily defeated.

He came at her a second time, moving faster, a flurry of fists and feet.
Vanessa thought for a moment that he had begun to fight in earnest, but
realized that it was only more exploration. She gave ground, mostly
blocking, but throwing a couple of ineffectual counterattacks. She watched
as Clay deliberately left himself open to effective response and resisted
the urge to strike. Had she been fighting to win, the second wave would have
fooled her completely, driving her to show far more of her skill than she
would have meant to. As it was, she had given Clay the impression that she
was, at best, a brawler.

The third assault started slowly, but built tempo as it went on and on. It
didn't take long for Vanessa to realize that she really was overmatched in
this fight. As his attacks started to become a blur, she was forced to focus
entirely on defense, blocking and dodging away from his attacks.

But, having established herself as an untrained fighter, Vanessa opened
herself up to a devastating strike to the midsection. Clay went for it, only
to find her not there, but spun around to his side, driving her elbow into
his chest. As his momentum reversed, she wheel-kicked her leg around and
kicked him solidly in the back.

Clay managed to make the kick into a glancing blow, ducking underneath it so
that Vanessa's foot slid up his back before he sprang up, catching her ankle
in one hand and sweeping the other with a kick. Vanessa crumbled backwards
to the mat, but managed to kick her captured ankle free and somersault away.

Clay nodded at her, thinking he'd taken her measure, "We can quit any time
you want. Just say, 'yield.'"

"Likewise," said Vanessa. She came at him in a savage flurry of fists and
kicks. In a split second, all artifice was gone. She poured everything she'd
learned into driving Clay backwards. He yielded ground to her, forced
momentarily to focus on defense. But, when she finally closed with him,
slamming a hammerlock on one of his arms, he dropped to his knees and
flipped her easily.

Crouching, Vanessa raised a defense quickly enough for Clay to veer off of
whatever assault he had planned. He backed away a few steps.

"Very nice," he said. "You have been training. What style is that?"

Vanessa sprung to her feet, "Krav Maga."

Clay nodded, "You handle yourself well."

Vanessa allowed herself a small smile without breaking eye contact, then
said, "Still think you can take me?"

Clay charged her, driving into Vanessa like a tackler in football. It took
her completely off-guard. She was ready for a fist, a foot, or both, but
Clay just barreled over her like a steam engine. She went down hard on the
mat and felt the wind knocked out of her. Before she could recover, Clay had
flipped her over, pinning her face-down to the mat, straddling her, his arms
locking hers in a full nelson. Knowing she couldn't get up, Vanessa ground
her hips backwards ferociously, rubbing up against him. Clay's manhood
sprang to life. Apparently not expecting a contact fight, he hadn't worn a
cup. Clay tried to pull away, but Vanessa locked her ankled behind his
knees, pinning him to her. Clay tried to shift his groin away from her while
not letting her up. Something had to give soon. When it did, Vanessa
twisted, breaking out of the full nelson until she was flat on her back,
still pinned beneath him.

Unable to hold her arms the way he wanted to, Clay managed to catch both of
Vanessa's wrists up above her head in one of his hands, while sitting on her
waist.

"So," he panted, looking down at her. "Does this mean that I get to escort
you out this evening?"

Vanessa shook her head in the negative, "You said you could rape me. The
minute you tried to get my clothes off, I'd be off like a shot."

Grinning wickedly, Clay reached down with his free hand. A single tug undid
her belt. Another drew open the gi. By the look of shock on Clay's face,
he'd obviously been expecting her to be wearing something underneath.

The silence went on for a long second until Vanessa said, "Well, come on.
You can't rape my chest."

The pressure on her wrists let up. Clay leaned back on his haunches,
"Dammit, Vanessa. That's not funny." He spoke angrily.

Vanessa knew that she'd been misunderstood. She saw only anger and
recrimination on Clay's eyes. She knew she didn't have long to explain so
she sat up quickly, wrapping one arm around his neck and kissing him hard on
the mouth. Her other hand slid down his torso, gripping his cock through the
thin, white pants. Giving it a short stroke, she put her lips up against his
ear, leaning as far in as she could to whisper.

Knowing she would only have time for a few words, Vanessa rasped, "I still
have your jacket."

Clay seemed to understand the words on some primal level. His hand shot up
for the wrist around the back of his neck. Vanessa managed to pull it away
and twist enough to crawl a few feet before Clay was on top of her again.
But, this time, instead of crushing her, he first caught the back collar of
her gi and tore it free of her body in a fluid motion.

Pushing a big hand between Vanessa's shoulder blades to keep her pinned,
Clay used his other hand to strip her of her pants. Now, Vanessa lay naked
beneath him. Placing his hand on her bare bottom, he growled in her ear,
"Last chance. Yield?"

"Never," Vanessa managed to his. As soon as she'd said it, Clay's hand
forced her legs apart, a single finger sliding barely inside of her and
teasing her clit. Vanessa moaned at the pleasure and intensity of it. Clay
pressed harder, causing her to shudder.

Clay plunged his finger deeper inside of her then, joining it shortly
afterwards with a second one. There was nothing gentle about his touch, but
it gave Vanessa such intense pleasure she couldn't help but moan aloud. This
seemed to go on for a long time before Clay drew his fingers almost all the
way out, sliding one across her perineum to split her rosebud, then sliding
them back inside.

Vanessa had been curious and fantasized about it, but she'd never let anyone
touch her back there. To her surprise, it didn't hurt at all. To the
contrary, it felt amazing. Vanessa found herself coming before too long.
Clay chuckled throatily and slid in a little deeper. Vanessa writhed,
arching and popping between where his hands kept her pinned to the mat.

"Oh, God." she moaned, finally finding her voice. "Oh, Clay. God."

Clay kept her pinned, casually violating her for long enough that Vanessa
started to worry that he intended to do it all night. Barely was the thought
formed that his fingers were out of her and off her wrists, grabbing her
hips and forcing her up to her knees.

At some point, Clay had lost his uniform during the fight, leaving them both
naked. Crouching over her from behind, Vanessa felt the head of his cock
pressed against her outer lips.

"Still don't think I can take you?" he growled.

Vanessa laughed, "Prove it."

Clay required no further prompting. He split her open, driving his cock as
deep as it would go. Vanessa cried out at the pleasure of it as he began
pounding her relentlessly. The assault was absolutely savage now, pistoning
away as hard as he could. Vanessa was already soaking wet from everything
that had come before and welcomed Clay's cock. She would have raised her
hips to meet him, but he had her pinned face down on the mat. Eventually, he
reached around, forcing Vanessa to arch her back enough that he could take a
breast in each hand. From the way he crushed them, it might have been for
leverage, but Vanessa felt faint at the pleasure of having Clay manhandle
her so.

As he pounded away at her, it became obvious to Vanessa that he was also
pushing her slowly across the mat. When he got close to the edge, his weight
shifted. Vanessa saw him reach for a small can of oil left there to clean
the sabers. She didn't see it after it passed her face, but a few seconds
later, she felt Clay's now-oily finger enter her anally, efficiently and
relentlessly greasing her up as he continued to fuck her. When he stopped,
he also pulled out of her. Vanessa craned over her shoulder and saw him
applying the same oil to his diamond-hard cock.

Vanessa's eyes widened in panic, "Oh, Clay. I don't."

He forced her legs apart again, "Tonight, you do."

Startled at the feel of him pushing against her sphincter, Vanessa cried out
in a panic, "No!"

Clay paid her no mind, burying himself to the hilt inside of her. Vanessa
tried to fight him, but he was too well-lubricated and insistent to let her
put up more than a token resistance. Taking her shoulders, he drove deep
inside of her time and again, barely pulling back lest he lose his purchase.

Despite Vanessa's protests, Clay was fucking her. She'd been earnest in her
panic and refusal and he'd done it anyway. He was raping her. The
realization came to Vanessa immediately ahead of an orgasm so intense that
her foot started to cramp. She'd driven Clay into such a lust that he had to
possess her, regardless of the consequences.

Vanessa was lost in the pleasure then, too overcome to be aware of anything
much beyond Clay slaking his lust inside of her. As he plunged into her,
Vanessa's pleasure went on and on, no longer distinct waves, but one long,
disjointed vision of pleasure.

When Clay finally exploded inside of her, Vanessa squeezed against him,
trying to keep him inside of her just a few moments longer. When he rolled
away, she tried to roll with him and gasped in disappointment at the loss of
contact. She settled instead for curling up under his arm and pressing
herself against the side of his body as their breathing stabilized a little.

"Do you know...." Clay finally panted, "how long I've wanted to make love to
you?"

Vanessa laughed against him, "I'm betting that it's not as long as I wanted
you to."

"So..." he asked more evenly, "does this mean I can come with you and
protect you tonight?"

Vanessa laughed with more obvious mirth, but didn't answer. At least for
now, there was nothing more to say.

Sparring Partners
by Vulgar Argot
(MF, rom, rape, anal)

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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