by Anielka, Ina
Her hand pumped him idly. She looked up to see his face a mask of ecstasy. She licked from his sac down the underside of his cock to the head before sliding her body back up to face him. Sara’s face barely passed his chest before he tore off her panties. Sara’s bare slit was now rubbing gently, just above his cock as she straddled atop him. Ethan reached a hand up and drew her head to his. Sara tasted him—spicy and salty and steaming hot—as their lips met once more. Her eyes closed as they kissed she felt him position himself at her wet, waiting entrance. She drew in breath as his manhood, at last, split her wet lips and entered her. Sara dropped her hips into him, driving his hardness deep into her. Sara felt him hammer into her again and again. Slowly at first. Sara drank in the feeling of him entering her. She pushed back onto him. She could feel Ethan’s powerful hips drive harder into hers, his lean muscles contracting with power as he did.
Sara soon felt Ethan throw her off of him. She lay on her back; his body between her legs. He hardly broke his rhythm as he began to hammer away at her with abandon. Sara could hear the wet sounds as his hardness violated her again and again. Sara’s whole body shook from the fighter’s powerful force. She moaned involuntarily as her lover filled her. She stared as his abs, strained from the effort of fucking her. She grabbed his head and kissed him. His hands spread her legs further. He filled every inch of her, like almost no one ever had before. His pace quickened. Sara felt her own climax building inside her. Ethan was unrelenting in his assault. Sara moaned, the pleasure was growing, a fire burning higher. Moments later, and orgasm swept over her, she cried out as it spilled forth from within her, waves of pleasure flooded every inch of her body. She wanted him—she wanted this. Her hands clutched at his lean back, her legs wrapped around his waist. He cried out as he hammered himself into her deeply. Sara felt him erupt inside her. Ethan’s face was a mask of wordless pleasure. She felt him slow inside her as her own climax faded. The fighter collapsed atop her, wrapping his arms around her own exhausted body. He kissed her again.
They both lay in the bed, panting. Sara’s curvy body next to Ethan’s athletic, lean form. Sara lay her head on his firm chest. If she could lay there forever, she would have.
* * *
Emily, Ethan’s now-ex, was seething. How could he leave her after everything she had put into their relationship? She had been to every fight, bought tickets, T shirts, dealt with his shitty used car and put up with his irritating roommates. And now he had left her. She was furious and hurt.
At first, she assumed, he would call or text. Once he had calmed down. But he never did. Not an email, not a message, not a text. She texted him. Nothing. She was certain, he had to still love her. He wouldn’t just throw her away. She was too hot, too much of a catch for him. He just had to see her, one more time. Then he would get it. Emily drove to his house. Thankfully he was home. She was just about to get out of the car when the door swung open. There was Ethan, and some other girl! She was ugh some fat redhead! She could hardly believe he had left her for someone like that. She was furious. She couldn’t even get out of her car. In a huff, she turned the engine over and drove off. She would get Ethan back, she wasn’t going to lose her man to that slut. Not on her life…
Chapter 2
The copier whirred mechanically in a steady rhythm. The sound of page after page stacking on the tray filled the room as it completed its task with absolute, soulless, perfection. Sara and Ethan sat at the adjacent table, eating quietly in silence as they both eyed their portly coworker whose doughy physique and sagging stomach contrasted the efficient perfection of the machine he operated.
With a final clamor of plastic parts the cacophony of the machine fell silent. The man grabbed the papers and huffed off, out of the office break room. As soon as he disappeared from sight, Sara turned to Ethan. She smirked.
“I thought he was never going to leave. What on earth was he copying?”
Ethan, Sara’s now-boyfriend looked up at her with tired eyes.
“I dunno. It looked like some kind of presentation. Something with a million slides. He only actually made a couple of copies.”
Sara tucked an errant red hair behind her ear. She looked at Ethan, who was chewing laconically on a carrot slice.
“He shouldn’t be making that many copies. We keep getting memos about people overusing paper.”
“We’re a publishing company with a paper problem.” Ethan chuckled at the irony.
Sara couldn’t help but be perturbed by Ethan’s appearance. His fight was only two weeks away, and his diet—the strict regimen he was on to allow him to compete in the smallest weight class possible—had kicked into overdrive. Sara was shocked to see both how rapidly he had lost the weight, and the extremity of the diet itself. Even Ethan himself admitted it was ‘not sustainable’.
One side effect, was that Ethan had also become a shadow of his former self. He had been quiet before, but now he was sullen, and listless. All his energy, by his own account, was being poured into training. Sara couldn’t help but feel a little slighted by it all, to be trumped by his fight career. But Ethan had been clear with her that this sort of thing was going to happen. “The last two weeks are always the worst” had been his refrain. And so, Sara kept quiet and rolled on with it.
“What’s on the calendar for today?” Sara asked innocently.
Ethan looked back at her, “Just more sparring. It’s really my last hard day before the fight. I’m not looking forward to getting punched, but I’m looking forward to being done with it. At least for this fight.”
Sara had learned that each fight was preceded by a six-to-eight week preparation period where the fighters redoubled their efforts, focusing all their energy on preparing for their opponents. Ethan had studied his adversary’s movements, watched footage of his old fights, studied how he threw punches and shot takedowns. Ethan and his coaches used this information to formulate his own strategy. To Sara, a casual outsider, it bordered on obsession.
And here in the last two weeks—Ethan was coming down the home stretch. Sara was glad, he seemed much worse for wear. Just last week, Ethan had been caught with a punch while sparring, leaving him with prominent black eye. Even now, almost a week later, it still looked discolored, a hint of purple as his body healed it slowly. It drew tactless comments from their mutual coworkers for the first day, and Sara found it perturbing to look at.
The pair finished their respective lunches and casually bid the other farewell. They had both agreed that bringing even a hint of their relationship into the workplace was a recipe for disastrous drama from the coworkers. And so Sara was an unwitting observer to both Ethan’s struggles, and the coworker’s surreptitious gossip about him. Sara kept the worst of it to herself, however.
As Sara sat down at her desk, her phone buzzed. It was a text from Ethan,
“Dinner tonight?”
She responded in the affirmative.
* * *
That evening, Sara found herself on her ‘dinner date’. It consisted of her ordering Indian food and Ethan eating boiled chicken while watching her eat. Ethan’s eyes blazed with hunger. The TV was on, playing some bad movie from a decade prior. They were on the couch, lounging. She was draped across Ethan’s chest. Sara enjoyed feeling his muscular physique beneath her. And, the brutal weight cut notwithstanding, he looked great; lean and in spectacular shape. The only part that was eerie for her, was that since his diet was so restrictive, his metabolism had slowed down. His hands and arms were freezing. In an effort to warm them, she had wrapped her fingers in his and pulled them close to her chest.
“Do you ever think you’ll be done fighting?” Sara asked.
“I’ll stop when I’m dead.” Ethan added sarcastically.
“I’m serious. You can’t treat your body like this forever.”
Ethan looked down at her, his face serious.
“I want to see where my limits are. Just how good I can become. You only get one life to live, you know?”
Sara f
elt unsatisfied by the answer, but it was the only one she could ever illicit from Ethan.
“Still, you keep starving yourself, and you won’t get too many extra years on that one life of yours.”
Ethan nodded knowingly.
It was then that the door unlocked. Ethan and Sara both craned their necks from the couch to see who had arrived. The pair both relaxed when they saw who it was. It was Joe, one of Ethan’s housemates. Joe was a younger fighter, only 23, but massively full of promise, potential, and enthusiasm. His constant upbeat attitude was infectious.
“Hey Ethan, hey Sara!” Joe chimed
“Hey Joe.” The pair responded in quasi-unison.
“Dude, Ethan, you were looking sharp at practice tonight. You are going to kill it against Roberts. I got a good feeling”. Joe had walked over to the couch and looked at Sara,
“Stick with him, he’s a future champ! Ha ha ha!” Joe chuckled as he made his way to his room. Sara, knew Joe was more than a little prone to hyperbole and exaggeration. But she still found the thought gratifying. She cuddled up next to Ethan. I am going to stick with him, Sara thought to herself as the pair laid together and quietly watched the TV.
* * *
Ethan, awoke the next morning to his alarm blaring. God, I can’t wait to stop waking up this early. As a general rule, the last week before a fight was a ‘rest up’ week, where intense training tapered off. But it was Thursday, and he still had two more rough days of training to go. Groggy and intensely sore, he made his way to the gym. It was too early for any of the other fighters, but dutifully, Ethan put on his music, and began to warm up.
Before he could begin however, he noticed his phone had a new text. He hadn’t checked it since yesterday afternoon. He opened it up, and his chest grew tight.
There were at least 20 message from Emily, his ex. Since the breakup, he had not contacted her at all. She had been silent the first few days. Then she had sent him a message on social media and over text. They had started innocuous, but soon grew pleading, then angry, then threatening. Ethan was too broke to hire a lawyer, but he came close to calling the cops at the worst of it. He had never known her to be like this. Some part of it worried him.
For the past two weeks, it seemed to have tapered off. Ethan selfishly hoped Emily had found some other poor guy to torture. Some of his friends had remarked that she had contacted them and had been very flirty. They all knew how unhinged she had become however, and none had taken her bait.
But these texts seemed to change everything. They were laden with spelling errors, as if she had written them drunk or high. They alternated between threatening and pleading. It ended with what he hoped was just an empty threat:
I’ll get you back. And show that man-stealing whore ur with what hurt really is!
This was the first time Sara had even been mentioned by Emily. He had no idea how she even knew Sara existed. Ethan knew he could handle himself, Emily didn’t scare him. But Sara was a different story.
* * *
Sara awoke a few hours later, still early for her, however. She showered and dressed, surprised at how much energy she had, given that it was a Thursday morning. Normally she felt burned out, but she was excited, selfishly, for Saturday. That was Ethan’s last hard training day, and it meant that the following week he would be simply relaxing with her after work.
“Maybe a few quick workouts.” Had been his promise. Sara was tired of mostly seeing him at work, where they had to pretend to be professional, courteous coworkers. Sara arrived at the office early, only a few of the other coworkers were there.
As per her morning routine, she poured herself some coffee and sat down at her computer. She logged into her social media page. A new message peaked her interest. It was from an ‘Emily’.
Sara was curious, she didn’t know an Emily. She open the message. It was terse and strangely worded.
“Hey. I needed you to know that you are sleeping with my boyfriend. You need to stop. This is us together last week”
Attached was a picture of Ethan and an attractive blonde outside a nice restaurant in their town.
Sara’s heart sunk.
She couldn’t believe she had been so stupid, so naïve. Ethan was just another immature bastard. He had probably been lying about being at ‘training’ all the time. I thought this was something real Sara thought to herself. I was so dumb!
She felt the tears begin to well up in her eyes, hot and stinging. Sara frantically logged out of her computer and stumbled half blind to the bathroom. She locked herself in the stall and began to sob softly to herself.
Ethan, meanwhile knew he needed to find Sara, to warn her about Emily’s craziness. He arrived at the office, and made a B-line for Sara’s desk. It was empty.
Shit. He thought to himself, where is she?
Meanwhile, Sara had composed herself as best she could and decided that she just couldn’t bring herself to look at Ethan today. I knew getting involved with a coworker was a huge mistake, she chastised herself.
Sara slipped quietly out of the bathroom and out the building, hoping she wouldn’t see Ethan. She made it to her car and called her boss. Claiming to be violently ill, Sara said she wouldn’t be in today. Sara then turned off her phone and drove through the cold streets to her studio.
She entered the apartment. It looked strange in the mid-morning light. Beams cut through the gaps in the curtains, the sun straining to illuminate the darkness. Sara, in a bitter huff, yanked the curtains closed and crawled back into bed; numb, and disappointed.
Ethan, having heard that Sara was ill, had texted her about Emily, and to be cautious. He hoped she was alright, but his energy and focus was elsewhere. Sara is a big girl he reasoned, she won’t buy into Emily’s crap, Ethan rationalized. But he wasn’t even sure he believed it.
* * *
Sara stayed in bed until the afternoon. When she awoke, still groggy, she had forgotten about Ethan’s betrayal. It was only for a moment, and soon it hit her again. Her overwhelming emotions had settled into a feigned indifference toward Ethan, and a sore aching disappointment in herself for being willing to so sincerely care about someone who was clearly manipulative and two faced. This is why I don’t date, she seethed to herself.
Sara sat in front of the TV and lost herself in a daytime TV game show. It wasn’t until nearly 3:00 that Sara even remembered her phone had been off. She turned it on. As she did Ethan’s text flashed across the screen.
“My Ex has been saying some weird stuff, Emily is her name. You probably don’t need to worry, but she has been acting pretty crazy to me lately. Let me know if you hear anything.”
Real nice recovery, Sara thought bitterly to herself, you expect me to believe any of that crap now? You just got yourself another Ex-girlfriend. Asshole.
Sara blocked his number. She was tired of even hearing from him.
The next day, the last day of his camp, Ethan’s alarm clamored to life. He reached out a hand, groped for it, and eventually found the device. He switched off the phone alarm and checked his messages. There was nothing from Sara. She was normally fastidious about responding to texts and phone calls, she claimed the single red icon of an unread message bothered her. Ethan was suddenly very uneasy. This wasn’t like her at all.
Ethan rose and stumbled into the shower. His body was so sore he could barely walk. He turned on the water, waiting for it to grow hot, desperate for something to ease the stiffness that pervaded his body. The shower felt relaxing, though it did little to help. He emerged and dried himself.
Ethan looked in the mirror as she shaved. His cheekbones had become more prominent as his diet and grueling training regimen burned off any excess body fat. His black eye had somewhat healed, turning a strange, splotchy green. Even the gentle motion of the razor made the muscle and tendon of his shoulders stand out in relief. Ethan felt like little more than sinew and bone wrapped in thin skin. He was pale from the lack of sun. The Midwestern winter had left him feeling drained and tired.
He finished shaving, and like a zombie, made his way to the dresser. Thank god I’m not working out this morning. He thought to himself. He dressed and packed his meager helpings of food—all tediously measured and weighed out in small plastic containers. Ethan ate his morning allocation of boiled chicken and asparagus. It was nearly devoid of taste, but despite the blandness his hungry stomach and parched tongue appreciated the calories. Ethan gulped down water and made his way out the door.
As he arrived at the parking lot, Ethan sat in his car for a few minutes and sought to rally his strength for another day at the office. This was his first fight camp undertaken while working full time, and Ethan was not enjoying having to work while sore, tired and hungry.
Still, Ethan rallied himself and made his way into the office. He debated visiting Sara, but it was almost 9:00 and their secret wouldn’t last long if every day he made a B-line for the redhead first thing every day.
Ethan wandering to his cubicle, and fell into his chair. Hopefully, the company didn’t expect much out of him today, because he certainly didn’t have the energy for it.
* * *
Sara was devoid of energy herself. Emotionally drained, she had also come to work feeling like a ghost. She was in front of her computer, but the glowing screen could not seem to hold her attention. The closest thing to a bright spot was that Ethan had not shown up at the entrance to her cubicle. She wasn’t sure she could deal with him today. Truthfully, she didn’t want to see him anymore again. Ever.
Sara slogged through the morning until lunch. The thought of seeing Ethan made her stomach tighten with anxiety. She went out to lunch by herself. It was the most relaxed she had felt all day. Ethan looked for her in the break room, and her cubicle, but Sara was nowhere to be found. Her office mates confirmed she was in today. This left Ethan feeling more confused than ever.
