The Mammoth Book of Best New Erotica 11

by Maxim Jakubowski

  I see the glass eye of a TV camera aimed at us, the boom dropping down to eye level to get a good zoom of the unconscious girl’s face. I smile for my fans. I look great guns right now. Who’s the stud? I’m the stud. I let go of her neck and spin her limply around and then hoist her upside down, her face touching my knees, pussy almost level with my nose, knees flopping limply around my neck. Where’s all your fancy dancing around now, little bitch?

  I give her a hefty jog upwards like a bag of dog feed to get my arms securely around her ribs, my hands clasped tight around the small of her back. I lean back to shift her weight on my chest, my feet stanced wide apart as I get ready to start my final clit work once I’ve got her labial lips lined up just right. Now that I have her in position, I can feel her start to move, with the blood going back down into her head, but it’s too late. Her ass is grass. I squeeze my arms hard, bear hugging all the air out of her chest, the way a boa constrictor would, squeezing tighter each time she tries to pull a breath. I have to control her asphyxiation. I want to deprive her, not kill her. Keeping the air away from her brain keeps her from fighting me and when I finally bring her to orgasm it’ll be devastating, and get that chain orgasm going, bang bang bang like a string of firecrackers until her brains melt down. Guys used to hang themselves by accident trying to get that asphyxiated orgasm I’m going to break her with. Broke seven of my women in the ring doing this. If I ever have a son, I’ll teach him the secret of how to do this to a woman. Or a man.

  I hear a low moan from down below, and her hip jerks. Her legs open and close like butterfly wings. This is a very confused girl. I feel her trying to make a move, trying to slip out. No, you don’t. I loosen my arms a second and jog her whole body back up to get her pussy up against my tongue again.

  She straightens her legs and instead of pulling away slams her wet crotch into my face hard, the inside of her thigh banging up against my nose. Crazy bitch. She wants it. She’s throwing the match, she wants me to keep going. Glad you’re being reasonable about this.

  I stick out my lips in a cartoon kiss and pick up her clit and shaft and suck it hard till I can feel all of it contained inside my mouth. She has a big clit. Almost like a tiny dick. I give her another bear hug to keep her brain from getting smart, but she does it again. Throws her pussy up hard against my face, almost tipping me over. I’ve practised this move with Gerry on a balance beam. I’m a lousy tipper baby.

  Fuck, I can’t breathe.

  Her thighs are like steel bands locking around both sides of my head. Bending her knees for leverage she presses her cunt up against my face as tight as an oxygen mask – but no oxygen.

  Crazy chink bitch – she’s smothering me with her cunt!

  I don’t stop, I keep working the clit, shaking her from side to side, trying to get her legs from around my head so I can catch a breath. I’m being smothered by an octopus. And then I feel it down below. Oh sweet Jesus . . . that’s . . . that’s good.

  She’s got me in her mouth, deep throating me, laving that hot tongue around and around, in constantly moving rhythm. Her tongue work is fantastic. I’ve never felt anything like this in my life. My chest is spasming, screaming for air and I don’t even care.

  But there’s the jitters coming off her interior labia. She’s losing it too. She’s so busy strangling me and making me come she can’t fight what I’m doing to her. I bear-hug her ribs till I can feel them bend and for just a second that tongue motion hesitates. Then it comes back.

  This is the craziest goddamndest thing that has ever happened to me in three years in the professional ring. I’m asphyxiating her ass, getting her off at the same time, I know she’s absolutely going to lose it any second, I’ve got her right on the edge and this whole time she goes right on sixty-nining me. She’s licking my dog like an angel and strangling me with her legs and I’m dying on my feet and things are greying out and all I can think of is how I’ve just gotta come in her mouth before I die.

  This is a race to the finish line chased by black fire-breathing hounds of lust. This is the twilight zone. This is an insane nightmare wet dream. We’re racing balls to the walls against each other for our lives, for our souls, racing against the pleasure that will drown and enslave whoever orgasms, giving it all we got, no concentration left to resist dropping into the void. Whoever makes the other come first, goes home with that person as their slave.

  Grey turns to tunnel vision. My ears are ringing and my legs are wobbling. I can’t fight it. I’m going down, I’m gonna shoot my load down her gullet before I hit the floor – but . . . the fuck. Here it comes, the ripples against my tongue. I’m taking her down with me, fighting to nail her even as the waves of ecstasy wash over me, thrilling me, curling my tongue-tip downwards and working her G spot, and sucking her clit at the same time. I push back the clitoral hood with the tip of my tongue, feel that tiny spaghetti noodle tip of a glans and work the glans as I feel my balls squeeze and the Roman candle goes off in her mouth. Her thighs let go and pump wildly at my mouth, out of control, and I feel those firecracker waves spasming her vaginal walls, squeezing my tongue.

  Have I been asleep?

  I’m lying on my back looking up at the big floodlights. My head is throbbing, and I feel something wet under my nose. My eyebrows are itching. What am I doing, what is this place . . .

  Blank. There is this huge blank space where I don’t remember anything. Like being dead. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Not me, please God no. I’m think I’m gonna be sick.

  I can’t get up, I’m weak as shit. I roll over on my side and try to let my stomach settle, feeling that little lump in my ass where the shot went in. I’m in the Broke Zone. Wide open. How long have I been lying there with my eyes rolled back while she ran barefoot through my brain?

  A motion next to me gets my attention. I glance over, and she’s there too, just a few feet away. Stretched out on the mat. Her nose is bleeding. She’s got hundred-mile eyes, like she’s in another world, shaking her head, her legs jerking like a spastic sock puppet. Her muscles are messed up. Her reflexes are totally fucked up. She’s a spaz case. She looks high as a kite. Her eyes roll over and meet mine and I know those eyes. I’ve seen those eyes looking up at me from the mat thirty-one times. And son of a bitch – I’ll bet I’ve got those eyes too.

  I nailed her. I know I did. Drove her right into zombie land. Knocked her out of the fucking world. We had each other. Together. At the same time. This has never ever happened that I ever heard of. A simultaneous imprintation orgasm in the ring. We knocked each other right the fuck out.

  In all my life I’ve never seen anybody look at me the way she is right now. Soft. And she means it, I know she does. She’s in love. She wants me to love her, and I want to love her too. We’ve got respect. I never felt this way in my life. We could stop this, we could stop this right here, and be lovers. Real lovers. In love lovers. I could lie next to her at night and we’d hold each other tight and just tell each other about our love.

  She rolls over on her belly, with those soft wounded eyes and tries to crawl over to me. Her lips move. I reach out my hand and gently wipe away the blood from under her nose and she lets me. Her hand brings mine to her lips. She licks her blood off my hand and holds it against her face.

  The bell rings, ending the round, and Case is running, and the Chinese woman from her corner is running. We ignore them, gazing into each other’s eyes. We can do this if we want. We can end this and be together.

  Case hauls me to my feet and I stagger on watery knees, leaning against him as he brings me to the corner and drops me on the stool.

  Tiger Lee and me, we’re both looking at each other across the mat like besotted schoolkids. We’re both fucked up behind the eyes. She looks lost. As she sees my eyes on her she looks away and then starts to stand. Her corner woman puts her hands on her shoulders and shoves her back down. They’re not playing for the audience, it’s real.

  The old chink woman grabs a towel that’s been soaking in ice water and
splashes it on her like a cold shower, trying to get that basal temperature down, trying to shock her out of her dreams and back into the real world.

  Case is slapping ice water on me trying to cool me off. But it’s not working, what Case is doing. I want to say something, I don’t know what to say. I don’t want to do this anymore. Something’s happened. I’m feeling it. I’d do anything for that woman right now, anything she asked. Something broke. It’s bad. It’s bad this time. I’m balls deep in the shit and upside down. Fuck me. I look across the ring at Tiger, and I just want to be alone with her and just . . . just do any shit she tells me. It’s all gone out of me. She’s turning her head, looking at me too and the demon light has gone out of her. The corner lady keeps grabbing her by the chin, turning her head away to look at her, and Tiger looks pissed. Case is looking at me too, disturbed, checking me out.

  “How we doing on points?” Trying to talk my ass out of this. But Case is zeroed in on me, reading me, passing his hands over my head, scrutinizing my face.

  “Fuck the points,” says Case, “We’re not fighting for points. Mack, you gotta tell me. That was seriously the weirdest shit out there I’ve ever seen. What the fuck happened out there? Be straight, if you lie I’ll know. Did she get in your head?”

  I nod, all beat down.

  “Are you fucked up?”

  I shake my head. I don’t want him to know. I want to get back out there to be with Tiger. She’s looking right at me and arguing with her corner lady. Things are fucked up over there too.

  Case slaps my cheek, hard. “Macko, you in there? Anybody in there? Are you fucked up?”

  “No.”

  “You look fucked up, all right? You look seriously fucked up. Is she in your head Mack? Did she get you?”

  I nod.

  Case takes a deep breath and drums his fingers on my shoulder. “Holy shit,” he mutters. “Holy shit. Holy fuck, this is bad. Mack, this is very bad. I’m calling it.”

  I grab his bicep and squeeze. “Don’t you call shit!”

  “Mack, you’re over the line here. Let go.” He pulls my hand off. “I gotta call it, man. I’m stopping the fight.”

  “Don’t you call shit! Don’t you fucking call shit, I swear I’ll beat your ass.”

  “She zoned you bad, Mack.”

  “I zoned her ass too!”

  “Hell you did.”

  “I did – fuck, just look at her. I zoned her ass good.”

  Case takes a long sideways look at the fucked-up shit going on in Tiger’s corner. “Jesus fuck.” He mutters. “This is seriously the weirdest shit I’ve ever seen.”

  The referee is in the centre ring, looking from corner to corner and tapping his wrist. Case holds up four fingers. Give us four minutes before the bell. Tiger’s chink corner lady yammers some yik-yak shit at the ref and he throws up his hands and backs off to go talk with the judges.

  “Now you listen,” says Case, serious as a pregnant girlfriend, “listen good. She zoned you, Mack. You’re screaming zonked, man. I can see it. A dope can see it. It’s in your eyes. It’s in your voice. It’s in your skin. She fucked your soul. She chewed your brain, man. Maybe you nailed her too, I don’t know, I can’t take a chance. You’re my fighter, she’s not. I’m responsible for you. She really fucked you up the ass that time and if she nails you again that’s a double imprint and your brain will be seriously scrambled for the rest of your sorry ass life. Rules say you have to stop the fight before that happens.”

  “Fuck that!”

  “Mack, you stupid fuck—”

  “I nailed her too. I zoned her, Case, I’m telling you so help me Jesus, I zoned her ass—”

  “She’s gonna kill you, Mack!”

  That stops me. His voice is trembling, practically crying. “You’re out of your league. You lose this shit, you’ll be double-dummied by the same person, you’ll be a wasted brain-dead-fuck up like Gerry. And this bitch can do it. I’m calling it. You’re better off losing the belt than losing your soul.”

  The ref comes back out and he’s heading towards us. Case starts to speak and I slug him in the gut with my elbow and the air wheezes out of him. “Shut the fuck up,” I whisper. “You ain’t calling shit. I’m doing this.” Before he can speak I stand up quick, make fists and pat my fists together. Let’s go. Let’s do this.

  Case is all kinds of right. I know it. We’re all way over the line here. We’re in the fucking Twilight Zone. But I want her. It’s not the championship belt. Fuck the belt. I want her because I want her. She’s in my head. I was always scared of this, but now it’s happened and it’s not so bad. Maybe this is what it’s like to be zoned, I don’t know. But I want this bitch so bad it kills me. It’s all I can think of, all I’ll ever want. She’s enough. We’ll quit when this is over. Go off somewhere by ourselves and make babies. But she leaves here with me or else, and I don’t even know what “or else” is. If this is what the sweet damnation feels like, I’ll have to live with it.

  Tiger is standing up too. She looks baked. I can do this. I can score this bitch and take her home. Fuckin’ A. Stud wins every time. Definitely. The ref claps, points – bell rings.

  I bounce a little on my toes to get it going. But it’s not going. She’s coming out cautious now, bouncing on her toes like me, shaking her head, making her swollen breasts bounce to get my attention down, away from her eyes. But I’m watching her eyes. I’m on her. But the eyes are different. I send out my senses and feel her vibes, sniff the air, get the wind of her and nothing comes back that makes any sense.

  I keep moving, circling around her space. She’s forced to respond to me, to react to what I’m doing, keep me from getting behind her. I’m leading her. Her stance is just a little sloppy. Legs too far apart, because of the sensitivity down there. Basal tempo is high, sinuses congesting, nipples swollen and dark. Interior labials protruding, swollen, the clitoral hood down all the way over the glans. She’s hopped. She’s chopped on sex. She got me off once, it’ll be harder to get me off a second time. I can use that. Women are the other thing, you get them off once it’s easy to get them off again. I can use that too. She’s breathing harder, her sinuses swelling. She can’t hide it from me. She’s so wide open, I can see everything. Her hands flex with that old Bruce Lee “come and get it” gesture, but I’m working the outside circle, waiting to see my shot, listening to my inner voice.

  I can bag you, bitch, definitely I can bag you. Stud wins every time. Definitely definitely definitely. Sweet Jesus.

  She jumps at me. I keep moving, not a flinch. It’s the old days. The bad days, the great days. They’re back and I’m movin’ in the spotlight and I’m going to bag me some good bitch. Come on. Come on.

  I waggle my hips, make my phallus dance for her and the crowd loves it. It gets her attention for a fraction of a second and she drops her eyes to it. I pounce and she skips back, startled, trying to hide it, but I see it, just for a moment. A bit of fear. The inner conflict as she wants to surrender to me and be taken, which is what a woman is hard-wired to want, but there’s still that killer instinct she’s trained so hard for.

  She steps her left foot back and dips into a small crouch, she doesn’t know what to expect, she’s just being ready. I’m not thinking. I’m not feeling. I’m in the moment. I’m in the Zen. I’m just waiting for something I don’t even know what.

  She backs off, shaking her head. And I feel it, it hits me, just psychically, like being punched in the soul.

  I can’t do this. Not like this. She comes towards me, warily. Arms out. I throw myself down to the mat, spin on my heel, sweep her legs out and she doesn’t fight me. She drops and in a flash I’m on top of her.

  She doesn’t fight. She pulls me on top of her, puts her lips to my face, peppers my face with butterfly kisses and puts her tongue in my mouth. We lie like this for the longest time. Just kissing. That’s all. That’s all. Like kids. I haven’t just kissed a girl in years. I feel shy, motherfuck, I forgot what it even feels like to be t
his shy.

  Then it starts. The booing. All around us the crowd is freaking out. They came here to see some blood. To see some soul getting fucked.

  The crowd. The cameras. The fans. The contracts. The endorsements.

  Yeah.

  Piss off.

  My messengers race over her body and tell me things. Her sensitive places, mapped. Her state of arousal, calculated. But I don’t want to zone this bitch. I want to give her pleasure. It’s enough. I feel right now that I’d do anything she tells me, anything. But still . . .

  I slide my left hand down her right lateral nerve meridian and feel the change in her skin. Her right ear, secondary zone, setting up the primary zones. My fingertips touch behind her right ear, caress. My other hand reaches behind her head, tips her head back and I nuzzle her throat as I run that hand back down, tapping ragtime at the sweet sensitive nerve clusters along her belly.

  Her body responds. Then I feel it, her hands on the move, touching me there – aw fuck – and there, and then there, oh the little chink skitch, she knows me, she knows me. A pinch that makes me want to hammer my cock in her and give it up. But she changes course, her tongue is still in my mouth, kissing. The tongue that broke me for the first time and sent me into the zone. It tastes like Juicy Fruit gum. She’s not trying to break me. She’s trying to please me. The crowd can’t see it. All they see is two people lying quietly on the mat in each other’s arms, going slow. They’re screaming bloody murder at us. They want the porno they paid long green for.

  Her finger explores my anus, she scoots down to get some leverage and I feel that finger going in. I grunt my approval and relax my butt for her.

  It lands on my neck, wet, clammy, small. It breaks the spell we’re weaving for each other. I reach behind and pick it off me.

  The pink thong.

  I rise up and Tiger’s eyes pop open, instantly feeling the disturbance, the rude breaking of focus. Her head shakes – what?