The Dojo
An Erotic Short Story
The following is intended for adults 18+
Whenever she could, Diana liked to train at the dojo late at night, after all of the other karate-ga had gone home, the sweet silence broken only by the susurration of the cicadas outside or the occasional shouts of her voice inside the tatami-lined walls as she defeated invisible opponents with her fists, feet, elbows, and knees.
Diana worked part-time as an administrative assistant in the office for the small martial arts studio. In addition to discounted classes and a decent paycheck, she helped with registering new students, posting content for the dojo´s social media platforms; but the biggest benefit of all, was that Sensei Wu entrusted her with a set of keys. This meant that Diana could come here outside of opening hours, as often as she wished, to practice. And practice. And practice still more.
Most of her fellow students practiced their katas in the morning, hurriedly, just before the first class. Diana preferred the night, though, when she didn't need to rush. She could decide when to stop, how many times to repeat. In the night and in the silence, she knew she had all the time in the world to get it all right. To have things happen the way she wanted.
Punch. Pivot. Strike.
The presentation and certification in Meibukan Gōjū-ryū karate was coming up in less than two weeks, and Diana was determined to earn her shodan–her first-degree black belt. Whenever she could, she put in the “sweat equity” to be ready. Like tonight: staying at the dojo after closing time, repeating her katas over and over again, forcing her body to create those neural pathways until the movements became as familiar as walking or brushing her teeth.
Sometimes Diana stayed so late practicing that her thighs trembled from exhaustion; sometimes she pushed herself so hard that she felt like she could barely lift her arm to punch. But she loved it–loved the hard work, and loved seeing the results. Particularly since her divorce last year, each belt she earned represented an important milestone for her, embodying a new stage of her progress of moving on. Some people do therapy, after such a major life-change, but Diana found something unexpected in karate. It was much more than just a discipline of the body, far beyond an exercise regimen. In karate, Diana felt like she had finally come home. She had found herself.
And besides: karate definitely beat talking to a therapist in an office somewhere about her problems. Karate was way more kick-ass.
She felt at home in this dojo. She had been attending regularly for months, and it consistently provided her with a space to express her innermost energies, a means to really explore her emotions. Parts of herself that she hadn't known even existed seemed to emerge only after coming here. While in the dojo, Diana didn't need to struggle to get in touch with her feelings; they got in touch with her. This was especially true after a particularly strenuous training session, when the muscles throughout her body would be so completely exhausted that they would tremor involuntarily. Some found Sensei Wu´s tutelage merciless, but she found it liberating. Letting go was not some new-age slogan for Diana, but a concept that the practice of karate got her to feel and experience. This, like countless other principles, entered Diana not through her mind or getting all tangled up in words, like she used to for most of her life; instead, she was learning somatically, through her tired, warm, and energized muscles. Karate opened her up, connected her with new dimensions of herself. Especially effort, and pain, and hardship. Instead of avoiding these things, karate helped Diana welcome them into her life.
Lunge. Advance. Kick. Hold.
Diana paused for a moment, rolling her neck and shoulders a few times to loosen them up, before starting again. She reviewed this sequence again, only slower this time. She wanted to review the biomechanics of this portion of the kata, focusing on the physiology of all of the discrete individual movements so that when she moved up to speed again later, the movements would be perfect. Like most people, Diana had a dominant side--she wrote with one hand, and this was the same one she used to brush her teeth and carry her bag. Since joining the dojo though, she had been working diligently to become more symmetrical in her strength, and more flexibility in her abilities. But inevitably, some habits took more time to break than others. The good thing was that her consciousness was far more aware now. She could subtly yet distinctly feel how her right leg needed some extra work. After running through the sequence again in slo-mo, Diana executed the kata again–only this time with far more power, far more speed.
“Fifty percent is not the same as one hundred percent,” Sensei Wu once told Diana at the beginning of her studies of karate. “Nor is seventy-five. Or even ninety-nine! Think of when you go out of town to take a trip. Have you ever tried to be mostly on the plane? Can it take off if you are not completely onboard? The same is true with karate. You must bring full commitment, at all times. No hiding–even when it is difficult. Especially when it is difficult. You must give all of yourself–everything! Anything less than one hundred percent, Diana, even ninety-nine, is the same as nothing.”
Lunge. Advance. Kick. Hold.
The kata Diana was practicing tonight was called Jion. She reflected on its meaning while trying to ignore the sweat beginning to sting her eyes from all of the repetitions. Composed of forty-seven separate movements, jion literally meant “love and goodness.” The definitive attribution to this kata remains elusive to the present day, and its author remains unknown. Diana liked that: that the origin of love remained a bit mysterious. Or maybe jion was trying to teach us that love was not something to think about or study; instead, it can only be understood through experience in the body.
Punch. Lunge.
Since her divorce, jion had consistently remained a challenge for Diana. Sensei Wu suggested that this was because practicing any kata is ultimately an encounter with oneself, uncovering meanings far beyond the muscles and bones. “Karate is not about breaking wooden boards, like on some television show,” he would sternly remind his students. “Only when we are in an emergency do we really learn who we are. At this dojo, we create emergencies, for us to practice the real karate, which is within.”
Diana paused briefly, catching her breath and shaking her head before beginning again. Karate required tremendous discipline, and the ability to exercise the will amidst hardship. Through her training here, Diana discovered that, when push came to shove, she was quite good at it. She had a high pain threshold, and more strength within her than she realized. As she resumed the jion kata once more, she found herself entering a good flow, and her limbs felt as though she were swimming effortlessly through the air. Her upper extremities blurred with the speed of her attacks, while her legs always remained rooted to the earth. Contradictory when described in words, perhaps but absolutely logical and harmonious when felt within the moment. Diana found it difficult to articulate her relationship to karate to anyone outside the dojo. She used to try, and inevitably her friends or family would just chuckle while shaking their heads. They used words like “obsessed” or “intense”, and dismissed Diana´s descriptions. Quickly, she ceased joining them for those Sunday brunches or those coffee dates; Diana had grown bored listening to whatever series they were binging at the time, how they had a crush on their Zumba instructor. None of it held any meaning for her anymore. Maybe it never had.
It wasn't her job to explain her choices to anyone. Diana had already “been there, done that” with her ex. Her job, now, was simply to be, and to do so without apology.
Swing arms. Advance.
At the motion she rotated her body to the right, a figure blurred across the periphery of Diana´s vision: a man leaning in the doorway that lead to the hallway connected to the changing rooms.
Paul.
Sexy Paul.
Well, asshole Paul.
Or, if she were being completely honest: sexy asshole Paul.
Diana´s timing slipped slightly, but hopefully she didn't show it. She didn't want to falter in front of him, and give him the satisfaction of knowing that his presence had thrown her off. She finished the kata as if Paul wasn't right there in the doorway staring at her, but her mind kept nagging her, pulling her back to a mess of conflicting feelings towards the guy. Shit.
When Paul began practicing at the dojo two weeks back, Diana took interest in his strong and supple body immediately. Simultaneously, though, she quickly discovered that the guy was a total pig.
Ugh! So fucking typical, Diana had thought. If only there was a way to turn off his personality, and simply jump his bones.
She felt like a cat playing with a little piece of string. Diana contemplated all sorts of sex with Paul, and lately her fantasies had gotten downright kinky. Could she ignore his personality long enough, though, to get herself off with this douchebag?
Surely, she told herself, there must be a way.
Energized and sweaty, Diana continued to ignore Paul as she bowed before the Buddha statue at the front of the room. She walked towards the edge of the mat to grab her water bottle and towel from her small duffel bag, hoping that her behavior appeared casual and unimpressed. She wiped sweat away from her forehead, and only small sips from her bottle to prevent her muscles from cramping up.
Her indifference quickly evaporated, however, with the sound of his clapping hands echoing off the dojo´s walls. What the hell, she thought. Was this fucker making fun of me? Diana was angry, but she made pompous prick Paul wait a bit before turning to face him. She wanted one more swallow to compose herself, and to decide how she was going to handle this.
“Hey, not bad,” he said casually, still leaning his strong body against the doorframe. “I mean, for a girl.”
Oh you you did not just fucking say that.
Diana shook her head microscopically, then wiped her neck with the towel as she looked at him. Maybe ten years younger, Paul had dark hair, blue eyes, and a major attitude. If he ever grows up, she thought cynically, he´ll probably do something in finance. Or maybe in government. When not practicing karate, Paul´s face seemed permanently stuck in an impish smirk, as if he thought this stupid world was all just one big fucking joke, and that everyone around him wanted to hear his wise-ass remarks. Sensei Wu tried disciplining him with all of the commitment of a rancher trying to break a wild horse: he´d been “punished” by doing fifty push-ups on his knuckles for every time he spoke out of turn, but these efforts didn't faze Paul in the least. If anything, he took his licks with gusto, because at the end of the day, he and Wu and everyone else knew that he was actually good at karate. Like, really good. He had a way to go in terms of form and technique, but Paul´s instincts and his ability to improvise within any given situation–these were outstanding, the kind of talent every sensei hopes to discover in a pupil.
When on the mat, Paul´s whole body transformed into a pure energy, his limbs a series of lightning-swift strikes. Diana gave him serious props for his undeniable gifts as a martial artist. But as a person, she thought Paul was a complete jerk. And also, unfortunately, she found his body to be hot as fuck.
What was she going to do about it?
Tonight, Diana had a pretty clear idea.
“What, you think you´re better than me?” Diana took one more sip, then recapped the bottle. She placed it next to her bag´s open mouth, allowing her to see what was inside. She smiled.
“It's not a matter of what I believe,” Paul said. He pushed himself off the doorframe and strolled onto the mat. Every karate-ka knows that you´re supposed to respectfully bow before crossing this threshold, a gesture that infuses the dojo with humility and a kind of sacred focus. But by ignoring this custom, it just further emphasized how big of an asshole he was. Paul wore black sweatpants that fit his strong thighs snugly, and he had cut the sleeves off of his Nickelback tee-shirt to accentuate the golden coconuts of his shoulders.
Cocky, Diana thought. It´d be so fun to fuck him hard. Wipe that grin off of his face.
“It's just physics, Di,” he continued. “Generations of evolution and nature. I mean, I know it´s p.c. to say men and women are all equal or whatever, but c´mon. Men are just inherently more aggressive. Stronger. We have more muscle mass, we weigh more. Which all means we´re better fighters. We have what it takes to get what we want.”
With this last phrase, Paul smiled like a wolf. He looked Diana up and down as if she were just a piece of meat. “I mean, I have at least forty pounds on you,” he added.
“Which means you´re slower, like an elephant,” Diana said, crossing back onto the mat and countering him. The two of them began tracing an invisible circle around one another, staying just out of reach. “Or does Mr. Testosterone over there not recognize the value of speed?”
“Depends on what we ́re talking about,” he said. He breathed deeply into heiko dachi, before positioning himself in a Tiger stance. “I can go hard and fast,” he said with a grin. “How about you, Di? You like hard and fast?”
She hated it when people called her by that nickname, especially when Paul did it. She made the mistake once of asking him to stop, which meant that ever since he addressed her as “Di” or “Princess Di” all of the time. Like he was an immature little kid, getting off on taunting her. The fucker.
She breathed in, focused, then went into Praying Mantis' stance. “All right, Paul. I call your bluff. Let's do this.”
“Game on, Princess.”
“But first, remind me: what are we playing for, again? Besides bragging rights.”
Paul paused for a second, and in that moment Diana unexpectedly caught a glimpse of something new across his face. Vulnerability? He swallowed nervously, then spoke softly and without arrogance.
“If I win, I want to kiss you.”
Diana nodded, confirming something she'd learned back in elementary school: the boys who teased were the ones who were the most interested, even if they were unaware of it themselves. Maybe tonight she could finally fulfill her fantasy, and have some actual fucking, she thought, rather than just masturbating and playing with her toys. She had been celibate since her divorce, and her sexual frustration had built up during her training at the dojo. True, she practiced martial arts, but she didn't want to be a monk. Diana was a woman. She had needs and desires, and tonight, she was going to let them out. Paul was going to help her.
Little do you know what is in store for you, she thought.
“Okay. Fine,” she replied. “If you win, you can kiss me. But to be honest? That feels kinda penny-ante to me, Paul. Raise the stakes.”
“To what?”
“To fucking. I think we should fuck.”
This time, Paul´s entire body visibly registered his surprise.
“Wh-what?”
“You heard me. Don't pretend like it hasn't crossed your mind, too, Paul.”
That wolfish grin was back again. He shifted out of Tiger and into the low Dragon stance. “Okay! Cool,” he said. “And what about you, Di? If you win, I mean?”
“That's easy. If I win, I´m going to peg you.”
Paul frowned. “Peg me? What the fuck does that mean?”
“I´ll tell you,” she said, her whole body remaining motionless in her stance. “After I royally kick your ass at karate in just a second, I´m going to pull down your pants,then put on this new dildo I have sitting over there in my bag. Then, I´m going to fuck you like a dog until I´m satisfied.”
Diana shifted her stance into Warrior, and enjoyed watching the reaction on Paul´s face. Part of him recoiled at the fantasy she just outlined. Like most men, he couldn't even conceive of a woman entering him. But she could also detect something else, beneath his mask of bravado. He was at least mildly intrigued. Just like he thought. Paul wasn't as straight and narrow as he liked others at the dojo to believe.
Yeah. He'll be a good little fucktoy.
“Today´s my birthday,” Diana continued. “I got this toy for myself, because I knew no one else would, and I haven´t had any sex in too goddamn long. It´s not like I have a line of gentlemen callers or whatever knocking down my door. Between work, and practicing here, there hasn't been a lot of time for sexting, much less some honest-to-God action. So, dildo.” A feral grin now graced across Diana´s face, and the front of Paul's sweatpants tented slightly from his growing erection. “But don´t worry, baby. If you´re good, I´ll let you kiss me after. You ready?”
Without waiting for a reply, Diana unleashed a storm of attacking limbs and closed the distance between them. She held no illusion that this opening gambit would bring Paul; his skills were too sharp for that. But she did want to spar with him, and so she could gather information quickly and determine as much as she could about him: How his reflexes were, where his weaknesses lay and how she could exploit them. This was reconnaissance.
Paul retreated across the mat, his feet moving rapidly with a low center of gravity. He hadn't warmed up, yet he masterfully used both hands and forearms to block Diana´s blows. Then, dropping into a crouch, Paul swiped Diana off of her feet with one leg, causing her to land on her back with a thud. Instead of using that opportunity to finish the attack, like she would have done, her opponent backed away to reassess and catch his breath. Big mistake. And there was his weak spot, which Diana would exploit.
Paul acted like he was fighting a girl. Diana, meanwhile, was attacking an opponent.
Curling up to roll over her shoulder and away from Paul, she leapt to her feet and quickly centered herself, using a stance from Tai Chi. Paul paced with wary steps in a small half circle about nine feet away from her, while Diana remained motionless and alert. Let the fight come to you, Sensei Wu always said.
After some calculation, the handsome jerk´s next engagement blended techniques from both kung fu and karate. Even while parrying his rapid attacks, Diana identified at least two moments where Paul could have struck her chest with his palm. And each time, he hesitated.
Is it because of my boobs? she wondered.
One of his kicks did land on her belly, though. The strength and agility in her legs allowed Diana to absorb some of his force and hop back like a monkey, but it still knocked some wind out of her sails. But she transformed that hurt into heat, emboldening her to up her game. She was going to take this motherfucker down.
“Point,” he announced to nobody.
“Hey asshole,” Diana said, countering him with another half circle across the room. “We're not playing for points. Remember?”
Paul´s grin vanished. “I remember.”
“Good. Then stop being a pussy and really try to hit me.” She pointed at her chest beneath her robe. “Don't hold back just because of these.”
The two charged towards one another like a pair of rams. Drops of sweat sprayed off of their skin as their limbs clashed. Jabs and punches. Kicks evaded by ducking or doing a somersault. A shift of the head to just avoid an attack to the eyes. Roundhouse kicks narrowly missing the neck. Each instantaneous decision meant that sometimes a miscalculation would inevitably be made, and that part of a blow would have to be absorbed. Adaptation, improvisation, Sensei Wu would constantly repeat like a mantra, these are essential in karate, as they are in life.
As they continued to fight, Diana´s consciousness grew calmer, as quiet as the eye of a hurricane. Her spirit floated above the floor to encompass the entire dojo, and Diana became neutral and detached, witnessing the whole picture unfold without desire or need.
Suddenly, her reverie shattered. Paul caught one of Diana´s arms, flipping her to the mat and causing her to land hard on her back. Fuck, Diana thought, gotta get back to planet Earth, pronto. Before she could roll away, though, Paul had pinned her down. He straddled her torso with his strong thighs, and had immobilized both her wrists above her head in his meaty hands. He smiled like a puppy after completing a trick. He was ready for his treat.
“Gotcha!” he said. He leaned down to kiss her. But before his lips could reach hers, she slammed her forehead into his nose. The crunching sound of cartilage reminded her of splitting dry tree branches in two to make a fire.
“OWWW! What the fuck--!?” Paul stumbled off of her in surprise, his hands clutched to his face as he tipped his head upwards to slow the bleeding. His arrogance, his cocksureness, was immediately gone.
Your head is a limb, Sensei Wu would always say. Not just your hands and your feet. Your head is a strong, blunt instrument. Powerful! It also is not something most opponents expect you to use.
As Paul rolled away, his palms trying to prevent more blood from gushing out his nose, Diana walked towards her open bag along the edge of the mat. Once she got there, she loosened her belt and swiftly removed her karategi, folding it simply into a pile. She never wore underwear, and Diana got aroused with how the air caressed her bare skin, made her nipples harden and goosebumps to rise along the tops of her breasts. She pulled two items out of her bag, both of which she had purchased as birthday presents for herself earlier that night, on her way to the dojo for practice: in one hand was the brand new strapon dildo, black in color, and in the other, a white bottle of lubricant. Diana marched her naked self back to Paul´s contorted and clothed one, lying on the floor. Her muscular legs towered over this defeated man as she attached the harness with the artificial cock around her waist, aligning its base directly over her clitoris. Removing his hands from his bloodied face, Paul saw what she was doing with eyes the size of saucers.
“You--you actually have a dildo with you?” he exclaimed. His voice sounded muffled, as his nose began to swell up. “Here? At the dojo?”
Diana nodded, squirting some of the gel onto her thick rubber penis. “I always bring one,” she said, stroking the whole shaft until it was nice and slick. “My therapist says this is helping me get in touch with my masculine side.”
Paul squinted his eyes. He wasn't sure what to make of this sexy woman standing naked before hip, a black dildo strapped to her hips. The same woman who he had been flirting with for a couple of weeks, and had just broken his nose a couple of minutes before during their little match. She scared him a little. And that fear was like a key inside Paul, opening up hidden chambers that he didn't know existed. Fear and fantasy and desire seemed to be all interwoven together, right now. But how far was he willing to take it?
His train of thought was interrupted by Diana´s deep-throated laughter. “I'm just kidding. I don't have a therapist,” she said. “Now. Roll over. I´m serious, this time.” She shook her hips teasingly, causing the rubber penis to sway side to side. “A deal's a deal.”
A half a dozen thoughts flew across Paul's mind like a flock of birds fleeing a gunshot. Diana saw all of them.
“What are you afraid of, Paul? That you´ll like it?”
“No!” he said a little too quickly to be true..
“Uh-huh. Or is it…you're afraid you won't be…strong enough to take it? That letting me fuck you up the ass will make you, what, less of a man?”
Paul tilted his head back, moaning. His hands were covered in dried blood.
“C´mon,” she commanded, emphasizing her words with a gesture from her hand. “Today´s my birthday. I promise, this´ll be something both of us will enjoy.”
Paul looked at her, those beautiful bare breasts, that toned stomach, and then that kinky harness around her waist. Whatever his mind was thinking, his body already knew the answer, as his cock was growing erect inside his sweatpants. He quickly looked around him, and hoped that he had locked the door behind him when he came into the dojo earlier, and watched Diana practicing. When he looked at her again, something within Paul gave up. Sure, he had more body-weight than her; and yeah, he was a man and she was a woman; but right now, he knew with every fiber of his being that she was the one with all of the power. And accepting the truth of that fact got him more than just curious. He got turned on. Paul had never done anything like this with anybody before. And he couldn't think of a better time or place, or a sexier person to do it with.
“I´ll be gentle,” Diana said. “I promise.”
Paul shifted his body so that he was now sitting up. Diana noticed the erection straining against the front of his sweatpants. “Okay,” he said. “But….can we turn off the lights?”
Jesus, Diana thought. Are we in fucking high school?
“Sure, babe. You just stay right there, looking pretty.”
Diana jobbed over to the switches on the wall that controlled the track lighting overhead, the dildo bouncing in front of her steps. After they were all switched to “off”, ambient light from the full moon outside spilled through the windows. Diana had fantasized about Paul more than once, and none of them involved sharing a romantic dinner or holding hands while walking along the beach. Her imagination always went to rougher places, their muscular limbs writhing together in ecstatic agony, the meat of their strong torsos slapping up against each other.
And now, tonight, it was finally going to become real.
On her way back, Diana snagged two fresh towels off a nearby bench. Paul slowly peeled his sweatpants down from his waist, his white skin visible in the lunar light. She smiled at the revelation of his toned body, and what she was about to do with it. Diana tossed a towel at his face.
“For your nose,” she said.
Cocking one of her hips out to the side, Diana placed her hands onto her waist like a sheriff. The harness made her dildo point in front of her like a gun. “You need any help there, Paulie?”
Kneeling down, Diana gestured to get him to flip over, until his body supine. Paul was now on his hands and knees, and she couldn't help but lick her lips. She then hiked his bare ass up so that it was fully exposed, and began making circles over one of his buttocks with her palm.
“Your ass is so round, almost like a girl´s,” Diana cooed. She then gave his ass a little spank before moving her body to kneel closer behind him. “Now. Try and relax,” she instructed. “Anal can be a little uncomfortable the first time, until you get used to it. And yes, Paul: I am talking from experience.”
She squirted more lube onto her fingers, and then began exploring the puckered lips of Paul´s asshole. Its musky smell reminded her of rich soil, of earth and copper. She got aroused watching his sphincter quiver around her probing fingers, how they tightened and released around them. Beneath the artificial dildo, she felt her pussy grow damp and moist.
Propped up on his forearms, Paul kept his head bowed forward, concentrating on trying to release his muscles and absorb these brand new sensations. With each one of his grunts, with every one of his moans, Diana´s nipples hardened into tiny little kernels. Her hips were moving in little impatient circles now, and she knew that it was time.
Scooting forward across the mat on her shins, Diana lathered more lube onto the shaft of her big black dick, then carefully placed its head at this main´s backdoor. Knock, knock, she wanted to say but didn´t. She leaned forward a little, but she could feel Paul clenching up. Diana gave his butt another spank.
“Open up, baby,” she coached. “Don't fight it. Let me in.”
As Diana slowly withdrew the dildo before sinking it back towards the entrance of this younger man, she alternated her spanking with gentle caresses of his round ass cheeks. Already, she sensed that the dildo had gone inside, and each time she found her black cock disappear between the two globes of his ass. Less than an hour ago, Paul was so aggressive and confident; now she watched him arch his lower back before her next plunge, trying to get more of her inside.
This was even better than my fantasy, Diana thought.
Carefully, one centimeter at a time, she got the slick dildo deeper inside Paul´s tight little ass. She enjoyed how the hilt on the front of the harness banged up against her cunt, and had to hold herself back from thrusting her hips harder against him. Soon, she told herself. Not too much longer now.
Suddenly, something let go, and she got almost all of the black rubber cock up inside Paul. His mouth emitted a long vowel sound that soared somewhere in- between pain and pleasure, a perfect chord, kind of like what you might make after jumping naked into the lake during the winter. Diana reached under, and found Paul´s cock was rock-hard, as solid as any of the weapons lining the walls of the dojo.
“Good boy,” Diana grunted, starting to increase the pace of her hip-thrusts. “That's it…..Yeah…See?....Told ya….You like that?” Diana spanked his ass, demanding a response. “I said…you like that…don´t you?”
“Uh-huh,” he whined.
“Yeah…good by…that's it….Yeah…yeah, that's my bitch….”
Paul rose up onto his palms, and began pushing his hips back against Diana and the dildo by himself. She was surprised, but nothing other than pleased. She let him choose the rhythm for a while, each bang pounding right up against her clit. She removed her ponytail to let her long blonde hair fall loose upon her shoulders, and as she pumped her hips against Paul´s ass, she twisted her nipples using her thumbs and fingers. Her blood and energy meridians were on fire, and she wanted this moment to last for as long as possible. She wanted to ride this guy all night long, if she could.
Looking down at Paul, Diana noticed that Paul was not only starting to really pound his ass up against her dick, but this virgin was also jerking himself off with one hand! Wow, she mused, he's more into this than I would have expected. Fine by me, though! She raised both palms up above her rocking torso before bringing both down against the sensitive skin of his ass, striking him hard.
And what did he do? Paul just bucked his ass against her even more. And continued to stroke his thick cock, all at the same time.
Oooh. Nasty! You´re such a bad boy, Paulie.
“C´mon, fucker,” Diana shouted. “Ride that fucking dick. I want you…to ride that fucking dick.”
One hand firmly pulled his hip bones back, while the other grabbed a tuft of his hair, causing him to arch his head back. She was being rough in her desire with him, but Paul didn't say no. If anything, it seemed to fuel him onward even more. Meanwhile, Diana rolled her eyes towards the back of her head, becoming almost drunk with the feeling of having this fantasy come to vivid life. Their hips coordinated into an aggressive and determined pace, one that steadily galloped faster and harder. The sound of their sweaty skin slapping up against one another bounced off the wall of the dojo. Both of them could see Pure Ecstasy now, and both of them were committed to reaching it.
Diana looked down again, and was surprised to see her cock plunging nearly all the way up Paul´s ass each time. She was getting so turned on that she felt herself becoming feral, and she surrendered to the wildness. She yanked him harder now, pulling him and arching his back deeper than ever, so much that Paul had to keep himself up on just his fingertips. Diana leaned forward and whispered in his ear.
“Let yourself come, baby. It's okay. Just come. You can do it.”
Releasing his hair, Diana grabbed his hips with both hands now, her biceps straining to pull him harder into her thrusts. She hoped she could time it just right so that both of them orgasmed at the same time. Wouldn't that be a sweet little birthday present?
Using her strong back and thigh muscles, Diana pumped her entire body weight into Paul through his tight little asshole. She felt desperate and demanding, trying to get as much of her cock inside him as she could. Paul released a series of staccato shouts now in response to her thrusts each one of his yelps ascended and got louder, higher, until the pleasure almost sounded like pain. Thankfully, their dojo was outside of town, nestled along the edge of the forest and the lake. Diana imagined some of the forest animals peeking into the window, perched up on their paws to watch this couple aggressively pound the shit out of each other in the middle of the dojo. What would they make of the two of them?
The image merely inspired Diana to fuck Paul more.
“Oh fuck! Oh fuck,” Paul yelped in high-pitched surprise. “I'm gonna come!”
“Do it….DO IT!” Diana shouted back. She arched her large tits up to the ceiling, yanking his hips harder against hers. “C´mon, you fucking bitch! Fucking come with me. Do it!”
Paul screamed in ecstasy as he let go. His entire body trembled as if he had been struck by a bolt of lightning, a total live wire of pleasure and release. Diana´s orgasm immediately followed, and she dug her fingernails into the front of his pelvis as she pumped her hips as close to him as was humanly possible. She felt Paul struggling to move his buttocks away from her shaft, but she held on, forcing him to stay in that deep plunge for just a second more, just one more transcendent moment longer. In other words, until she was finished.
Both of them finally spent, Diana gave Paul´s ass a couple of light slaps, allowing him to finally slide off. He curled up into a fetal position on the mat, vulnerable, and she watched him with curiosity. That must have really rocked his world, Diana thought. He must have some new things to think about regarding his sexuality.
Leaning down, Diana tenderly lifted his chin and then carefully kissed his dry and trembling mouth. Her lips and tongue were a sweet and welcome balm after their earlier roughness. Between them, the air hung heavy with its mix of sweat, sex, and submission. After a moment, she pulled away, and softly placed one hand on his sweaty brow.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey.” Paul nestled his head to lean against her thigh, and encircled her hip with one arm. “I´d--I´ve never done that before,” he said, his voice sounding small and far away. Paul´s earlier arrogance and machismo seemed completely shattered.
“I know,” Diana said, stroking his damp hair. “You did good. You're my little slut.” She leaned forward to give him a quick peck on the cheek. “Oh! Let me just go and turn off my phone!” Paul sat up as she jogged to the side of the room.
“Wait. What did you say?”
Diana turned on the lights, then crossed to a small tripod perched on the same shelf alongside the Buddha statue. She had put it on at the beginning of her practice, so she could review her technique later, and before Paul had even arrived. Its placement meant that the camera had taken in most of what happened on the mat–not just her training, but her fight with Paul, as well as the two of them fucking. If Paul had just turned his head slightly when he entered, she thought, he would have seen it. But instead, like most assholes, Paul ignored what was around him, and thought only of himself. And Diana hadn't gotten around to telling him about it before. Ooops.
Always be aware of your surroundings, Sensei Wu frequently said. Such a good instruction, applicable to so many parts of life. Diana learned so much here at the dojo.
She tapped the screen of her iPhone a couple of times with her finger, then collapsed the mini-tripod. As she strolled back to her backpack, her dildo swung in front of her. Paul remained seated on the floor.
“I was recording my katas when you interrupted my practice tonight, Paul, like I always do. I watch the film later to help myself study, get better, improve my technique. Part of my homework. But tonight I think I got a little bonus. What do you think?”
Paul tried sitting up, but his ass was still sensitive and a little sore, so he stayed on the mat. “Wh--what are you going to do with the, um, the--”.
“The recording?” Diana took a few moments pretending to contemplate a response, even though she already knew the answer. In the silence, she slid her strong and slender limbs into a pair of yoga pants and a sweatshirt emblazoned with logos from a previous martial arts competition. “I´m not sure,” she finally said. “I mean, it is my birthday. Maybe I'll watch it for fun. Or I know: maybe I´ll study it, so I can learn more about what you said earlier–about the superiority of men.”
Paul just stared in fear, his mouth slightly open. He took the towel she had thrown at him earlier, and hid his face. Was he crying?
“Look, in all seriousness, Paul: I´m not going to post it online or anything,” she said. Diana tied her hair back into a fresh ponytail, and then stuffed the rest of her equipment and clothing into her bag. “I mean, unless you give me a reason to. Understand?”
Paul looked up with raised eyebrows. “Uh, no. What do you mean? Exactly.”
Diana took a step towards the edge of the mat, her bag slung over her shoulder. When she did so, Paul shifted his body instinctively in an attempt to make himself smaller. “Basically, Paul, just---try not to be such an asshole. Okay? Can you do that? Try? Treat me, and the other women who train here at the dojo, with a little more respect. Start small, like with names. For example,” she smiled like a jungle cat as she leaned towards him, “don´t ever call me Di again. My name is Diana.”
Paul gave a nervous smile, and then winced as he began to stand back up.
“Anyway, gotta go,” she said. “I have an early shift at my other job tomorrow. Turn the lights off, will you, after you clean up?”
Diana´s feet practically floated above the floor as she moved to the door and out to the parking lot. She didn't look back before leaving, but she knew it would be a while before Paul would be able to stand all the way back up.
About the Author
Christian Pan is a bisexual writer who was a Finalist for the Golden Pigtail Rookie Smut Star of 2022. He has published over 90 erotic shot stories in English, Spanish, and French since 2021, and some have appeared in the erotic anthology collections Summer Teases and Season’s Teasings, both edited by Olivia Lawless.
His previous books include Far from Olympus, On Freedom, Eagle Eye, City of Desire, and At the End of the World (Finalist, 2022 Golden Pigtails Smut Award for Dark/Taboo Erotica; Winner, 2023 Star Recommendation from All The Filthy Details).
To learn more about his work, check out his Patreon, Instagram, and X (Twitter).