Strategy

Jonathan stands confidently on his feet. I know that tearing him down won't be easy and a strategy is needed. I try a couple of low kicks, hopping on the spot, just to test his defences. He retorts in the same way, reaching me with his long legs but not doing any harm. The guy keeps smiling; he's not taking me seriously and I swear that he will regret that. For the time being though, the fact that he's underrating me so much could be helpful. The opportunity comes when he lowers again his guard. I see the opening and lung forward, delivering some punches and then a vovinam chop directed to his neck. My opponent wards off all my strikes, but the chop connects between the head and the shoulder. I hear him hissing in pain, but there is no time to cheer because an invisible **** suddenly drags me off my feet. I can't realize what is going on; my jaw swings unnaturally and a moment later the room spins around like I was in a mad carousel. When I reopen my eyes, the unexpected sight of the ceiling appears before me and the warm, hard floor welcomes my backbones. I've been grounded! I'm struggling against the dazziness, perfectly aware of my exposure, while Jonathan approaches. I dread watching the big guy rising his leg, and realizing what he's up to.

During my years of amateur mixed fighter I concluded my sensual matches many timeses in that way, laying my foot over my opponent, in the position known as "victory pose". My feet would trample different male chests and I always enjoyed the feeling. For the first time in my life though, I was about to suffer the same destiny. That was unacceptable. Gathering my energies, I scramble to my feet, nearly dodging his sole coming down. Jonathan turns over to face me again but a new fire is now burning inside my eyes. I am lucid, despite the bad fall, and at the same time full of anger. The boy dared to hit my jaw and even tried to put me under his dirty feet...that couldn't go unpunished! I charge at him, pushing my shoulder against his middle section.

Once he's unbalanced backward, I clamp the huge arm, which is hanging on his side like a vine from a large willow, and suddenly spin around. My opponent is lifted off the ground and threw in the opposite direction, landing some inches forward. The judo move called Ippon Seoi Nage worked perfectly and I'm proud of my skills. The guy's woozy expression tells that he's as scared and confused as I was just seconds before. The sweet flavor of **** delights my palate. Another man, one like my husband, at this point would have just implored to be spared, but I know that Jonathan is tough and will submit only if he had no other choice left. I'm ready to narrow his freedom range. Firstly, I place my knee over his right biceps, just to be sure to keep under control of that fearful weapon, and then I weight the other knee down on his chest. He looks up at me, observing the sexy woman who's humiliating him.

I see a pair of green concupiscent eyes just beyond the vent of my bra. For a lingering instant, our fight stops and I notice a movement under his shorts. But the spell soon ends. Jonathan is resuming his efforts to earn some space and repel me. The male chest and arm got pumped up and a human earthquake shakes my stance. I fail an headscrissor and slowly but steadily the combination between his strength and expert swings **** me back. The only attempt that I can do to keep him down is to flatten his chest under me; I lay over, crushing my breast against his pecs and hugging the guy's torso and large shoulders with a painful embrace. He is struggling to get free, and the close contact between our bodies is overstimulating me. I am determined to win this fight, and then treat him like all the men that I have defeated.