Sign Guestbook		View Guestbook

Fighting Josh

by Sollasollewmn

Josh and Todd

My friend, Josh, got me into Tae Kwon Do. He'd been taking lessons for about a year and for every day of that year, I had to listen about how cool it was. I just got tired of hearing it and signed up for a month, thinking I'd get bored soon. But he was right! I don't know which was better--the self-confidence I got from knowing I could protect myself or the sexual tingle that rang in my chest whenever I connected a good hard kick to another guy's stomach.
Josh and I often ended up as sparring partners so we had a good feel for how the other one fought. Although he was several belts higher than me, he'd given me lessons on advanced moves outside of class so, more or less, we were fighting at the same level. We both got pleasure from blows to the stomach (giving and receiving) and one night, he confided that he got the biggest thrill when sparring with me, as opposed to anybody else in the class. Although we'd never "done it," we both knew the desire was growing every time we sparred.
One night, Josh got permission from our sensei to use the gym after hours for a private session--just Josh and I. We went to the gym at 10:00 that night, just to make sure no one else would be around. We changed into our uniforms in the locker room and walked out onto the mat. Josh was only on the mat a second when he stopped, thought, and peeled the top of his uniform off. Josh was 6'2", 190 lbs, and had
THE most perfect body ever. Never had I seen smooth pecs so full and
round and those abs! I didn't know whether to rub my fingers over each defined muscle or pound the hell out of them. I won't even go into those size twelve feet with his absolutely perfect toes, and soft pink soles. I was more modestly built but had nothing to be ashamed of either so I took my uniform top off too.
Josh sat down and began stretching; I followed suit. All the while I stretched, I couldn't take my eyes off the bottoms of those magnificent feet. I didn't even want to fight tonight, I just wanted to feel those feet against my face and stomach. But then the thought of sinking my own feet into that powerful stomach of his brought back the drive to get it on.
When we finished stretching, we slipped foam pads on our feet and hands. Josh started jumping up and down, like Mohammed Ali himself, a cocky grin on his face, jabbing at the air.
"Hey, Todd, how's this to make it interesting?" He asked, doing a high roundhouse kick away from me. Show off. "When you knock the other guy down, you get to take off one set of pads. First time, the gloves come off. Second time, the foot pads."
I returned the cocky smile and showed him my spinning back kick (something HE'D taught me). "Okay by me. What happens on the third time?"
Josh did a backwards flip. I swear, it was in slow motion. His abs and pecs rippled slowly as he spun in mid air. "Third time....we'll improvise. You ready?"
We approached each other, bowed, and before I could step into a ready stance, he nailed me with the very same spinning back kick I had just demonstrated. Again, it was all in slow motion. I felt that long, tender foot across the length of my stomach. The feeling of that soft flesh slowly burrowing into my abs made me shiver. Of course, I felt the pain next as I doubled over and went flying backwards. It took everything I had to stay on my feet. No way was I letting him knock me down with such a dirty move. I hit the wall as Josh just stood there laughing, bobbing up and down. Oddly enough, I stood there for a moment, half hoping he'd approach, drive a hard side kick into my gut, and just hold me there, pinned to the wall. No such luck. He wasn't about to make this easy.
"Nice," I said, regaining by breath, "dirty, but nice."
He howled. "That's the name of the game, m'boy."
I advanced, ready for anything. I opened with a straight punch and forward kick, both of which he effortlessly blocked. Before my foot hit the floor from the kick, he responded with a powerful spinning back fist that hit me squarely in the side of the head. I saw stars but had learned from several sparring bouts to recover my wits quickly. Of course, I wasn't quick enough. I shook off the pain just in time to get a one-two punch, the first to my stomach, the second to my ribs. I leaned forward, partially in pain, partially to guard against more attacks. Instinctively, I crossed my arms in front of my chest in a feeble attempt to protect myself. It was the dumbest thing I could have done....and exactly what Josh was counting on.
I had only just felt the sharp pain of the punches, only just leaned forward, when Josh lept straight up in the air and lashed out with a side kick. I remember thinking, as the length of his beautiful foot impacted squarely on my face, I was only glad it wasn't a running/flying kick or I'm sure I'd have ended up in the hospital.
But the kick was enough to snap my head straight back and send me to the floor. The air shot from my lungs as I hit.
From the mat, it took a moment for me to focus through the pain.
Josh and I generally got rough with one another when we sparred; rougher than when we sparred with anyone else. But this was a whole new level, even from him. I wasn't kidding myself; I knew this was no ordinary sparring match and the whole idea was to inflict the pain that got us off. It was only now, as my eyes finally locked in on his gloating mug as he stood triumphantly over me, that I realized he really did have something special for that third knock-down.
He chuckled as he took off his hand pads, exposing his bare knuckles.
I finally managed, "I guess there's some stuff you've held back on teaching me."
He tossed the pads aside, looked like he was about to back away in order to let me get up, when he suddenly lifted his leg and drove his foot into my stomach. I saw it coming and tensed up, deflecting a large part of the blow. But it still stung. He kept his foot on my stomach and continued to apply pressure.
"Very good," he said. "You're getting the picture."
Strangely, the bottom of his tender foot was cool but powerful as he tried to break my rock hard abs. It became harder to hold him off just using my stomach muscles. I grabbed his foot and tried to pry it off but by now he had almost the full extent of his weight going into my stomach--his foot wasn't going anywhere unless he wanted it to.
"Anything goes?" I asked.
"Anything goes." He concurred.
That's all I needed. I tightened my grip on his foot and swung my
knee around to sweep his other leg out from under him. I was right; his balance was off with the majority of his weight on my gut and he fell backwards. But I let go of his foot too soon and he was able to turn the fall into a back flip. It was enough time to get me back on my feet and into a fighting stance.
Josh just gave me that cocky laugh again as he went into his own fighting stance. "Time to REALLY teach you what we learn in the advanced classes."
He lept forward in a flurry of kicks and punches, most of which were just for show, not really intended to do any damage. The few punches that did land were solid and no longer protected by pads. His knuckles left small red marks on my skin which I tried to ignore.
But his cockiness gave me the opening I needed. In between showy kicks, I landed a solid step-in side kick to his gut. If I didn't know better, I could have sworn he let me have that one. His face got the mixture of pain and pleasure as my foot sunk into his unprotected stomach. A weakness! I thought. Give him what he wants and then...follow through.
As Josh revelled for just a moment in the kick, I jumped into the air and slammed my fist into his forehead. The blow would have had more impact without the gloves but it achieved its purpose. Josh was genuinely stunned by the punch so I continued to use this to my advantage. Clasping both hands together, I wound up and swung like a baseball bat, catching him square in the jaw and sending him into the wall.
I clamped my left hand on his shoulder, holding him to the wall, while my right hand drove a series of vicious uppercuts into his abdomen. The blow to the forehead must have stunned him more than I originally thought because he didn't even bother to tense his stomach muscles to protect himself from my punches. Each punch sank deeper and deeper into his soft gut; each time he tried to double over I kept him upright with my other hand.
After the 10th punch, I grabbed his arm and flipped him over my shoulder. He hit the mat with the same sick thud I'd done earlier.
Remembering the beating I'd just received, I wasn't about to give him
a chance to recover. As soon as he hit the floor, I knelt on his
biceps, tore off my gloves, and continued a rain of punches into his stomach, now barefisted.
Each punch got a grunt from the disoriented Josh. His face was a twisted mix of pain and pleasure. This only got me going more. I started throwing all my weight into each punch. WHAM! WHAM! Josh's whole body convulsed with each strike and I could feel the hard-on raging in my loose white pants.
And that was my mistake. That was where I got cocky. I was enjoying myself too much and I was assuming that Josh was too weak. I hadn't counted on the fact that part of what he'd gained from being in TKD longer than I was a higher tolerance for pain….and the ability to take a lot more punishment in his abs. I lifted my arm high above my head to administer another blow when, suddenly, Josh's legs shot up in the air. In his fastest move yet, his calves ended up on either side of my neck and his ankles locked together. In one deft move, he threw me from off top of him. I landed, barely phased, on my back, but as I spun back around, attempting to get the upper hand, he crouched and landed a wicked side kick into my face.
It was an odd sensation, to simultaneously enjoy the now-warm, pink flesh of the bottom of his foot as it connected with my nose and mouth while reeling in the intense pain the kick inflicted. My nose started to bleed a little but I sniffed and kept it under control. I was seriously out of it and I barely knew what had happened. I vaguely remember Josh standing over me. He brought his left foot up and slammed it down near the top of my chest. Again, all the air rushed from my body in an "Augh!" noise. He reached down and grabbed each of my wrists. He then stood up on his left foot, forcing all his weight on to my chest, all the while pulling my arms up and stretching them tight. They were locked at the elbows and I felt like I was on the rack.
Josh looked down and grinned. He was sweating from the punishment I'd given him but he was still jovial. "Now, the fun begins."
He brought his right foot up and drove it down in a series of devastating stomps into my midsection. There's no way I could tense my abs to keep out his furious barrage. If I moaned in pain, he shifted weight, stood on my stomach with his right foot, and "slapped"
me hard across the face with his left foot. Then he'd shift weight, with the left foot firmly planted on my chest, and begin the stomping all over again. I tried to stay focused. This was the most incredible feeling! His huge feet holding me in place, my pecs buckling under the power of his left foot, my abs crying for mercy under the unrelenting assault of his right.
I must have begun to black out and go limp below him because he suddenly stopped and got off, releasing my arms. I lie there barely able to move but so happy that I hardly wanted to. Josh tossed his pants aside and yanked mine down as well. He slowly entered me and as he did, he whispered, "Hit me!:
I had little to no strength left but I complied.
Lying on my back, I threw a weak right hook into his gut. His back arched in pleasure and he moaned a little. "Again! Harder!" I mustered more energy and threw a solid jab into his rippling abs.
Inside me, I could feel him growing harder. Then he lifted his fist and plunged it into my abs—not as forceful as before but strong enough so I felt it. I hit him, he hit me. The blows continued until we
climaxed at the same amazing moment. Josh fell back and writhed in
ecstasy.
Physically spent, I crawled over to his side and we curled up in each other's arms. I have to admit, when he said we'd improvise, I had no idea the night would come to this. Not that I was complaining.
He pulled me in tight, his gentle embrace a stark contrast to the feral beating I'd just received. He joked, "Don't think this means I like you or anything."
I sighed. "Never gave it a thought."
We laid there for a few moments, both hardly able to believe we'd just lived our wildest fantasy. Then, Josh propped himself up on one elbow, turned to me with a twinkle in his eye, and said, "Same time tomorrow?"
I laughed and it hurt like hell. "Better give me some time to recuperate. Let's shoot for next week."
He playfully poked me in the gut one last time.
"Count on it." Then he grinned. "Maybe next week, we'll make it even more interesting."
"How's that?" I asked.
He shrugged innocently. "You'll see…."