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Check out the latest release by Fight Pulse: Bianca vs Andreas. Preview photos are available in this topic. Get this video at: Fight Pulse - MX-251. |
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#31
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Re: How not to fight a drunk girl
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#32
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Re: How not to fight a drunk girl
Thanks for this awesome story! I have to say, usually domination type stories or other content is not usually up my alley but you’ve written this quite well, and it’s awesome! Can’t wait to keep reading!
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#33
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Re: How not to fight a drunk girl
I've always thought your dialog is brilliant, mate. it walks a fine line between comedy and pure sensuality and I love it. Not that there is anything wrong with your actions scenes, but few people entertain with simple conversation the way you do. The last 'episode' just had some fantastic examples of what I like the most so I thought I would point them out. Thank you so much for writing the stories you share with us, mate.
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#34
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Re: How not to fight a drunk girl
Lovin this story!
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#35
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Re: How not to fight a drunk girl
The plot thickens! Adding Janice to the fold definitely cranks up the level of curiosity. So many directions that this could go.
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#36
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Re: How not to fight a drunk girl
I sit down at the table and watch Jessica eat most of the pizza. She eats like a football player with huge bites and no wasted motion. It's very strange watching a half-naked girl eat while I'm fully clothed.
"So it sounds like I have no say in the matter. Unless I go to the Administration." She nods vigorously as she chews, "Now you’re gettin’ it." "Jessica - I have a girlfriend! It’s going to be very difficult explaining this to her - can't you find someone else to punish?" She finishes the pizza and licks her fingers as she answers. "Well, here's the deal. Ain’t no doubt I could find some other guy to hook up with, but that's not what I want." "What do you want?" "I'm still figuring it out to be honest. I never fucked a guy’s face before. You were my first!" I just stare at her. The way she had wrestled me to the ground and humped me had seemed like a well-practiced move. "Why do I have that dubious honor?" "I don't know," she shrugs. "I just been watchin' you since we first met. I like those cute computer glasses you wear and the way your wavy kinda falls across your forehead when you'd be reading. You sure do read a lot of books! You seemed like some kinda intellectual or somethin'." I'm stunned. She was attracted to me? Sensing my confusion she gives me a sly smile. "What - you never saw me eye-fucking you when I came over?" "But... what about Dean?" She dismisses him with a wave of her hand. "Oh, Dean was just a good old boy. He wasn't never no kind of long-term solution." "Listen - I'm going to say it one more time. I have a girlfriend." "And I'm going to say it one more time - I don't care." She looks down at her chest. “Dammit! I got tomato sauce on my tit – I mean my breast.” She looks up at me and the beginning of an evil-looking smile starts to form. “A real gentleman would offer to come over and lick it off me. You know, help a girl out.” “Oh, no.” I looked at the dollop of tomato sauce on the north slope of the Grand Tetons. “Oh, yes,” she says, mocking me. “Why don’t you bring that cute face over here.” “Get real.” She sighs. “I guess I got to make you, then.” "You can't just force yourself on me whenever you want!" "Wanna bet?" She gets up from her chair and moves around the table towards me. Quickly, I jump to my feet and begin to circle the table, keeping it between us. "Jessica - come on now! This is crazy!" “That’s it – fight back! I like it when you try to resist me." She's leaning forward with her tanned strong arms, her feet spread and balanced as we hop sideways around the table. "What's the matter with you?!" I sneak a look to my right, wondering if I can make it to my room before she can catch me. "Nothin's the matter with me! I’m as happy as a puppy with two peckers. Okay, I’ll tell you what - how about a friendly little wager?” She dabs the tomato sauce with her finger and licks it off. “Like?” “So okay, I know you think you were at a disadvantage the first time we wrestled.” “I was drunk!” “Granted. I mean, I was too, but never mind. Then, the second time I kicked the shit out of you - also a surprise since apparently y’all have had your nose buried in books since puberty and didn’t know about UFC .” “Right!” “Okay, then how about this; we wrestle right now, both of us stone cold sober, with no kicks and no punches – just straight up old school wrasslin’. But - before we do - I will text you my prediction of what’s going to happen. At the end of the match, you can check out that prediction. If I’m right - you quit your bitchin’ and don’t try to get me thrown out of here. If I’m wrong I’ll leave as quiet as a little armadillo. Deal?” I think it over. It still galls me she thinks she’s stronger than me. She 18, for Christ’s sake! Six months ago she was in high school! I know I’m not the most masculine guy ever, but I never had call to question my virility before. I think ‘Nothing shakes your self-confidence more than having a girl hump your face against your will’. I realize I should probably should put that on a bumper sticker and make a million bucks. “Are you going to put a top on?” “Nope. ” Stubborn wench, but revenge would be sweet indeed. Sneakily, I think about copping a feel. A bonus! “Okay, deal.” She digs her phone out of her purse and composes a quick text. I hear my phone ping showing it’s received. So it looks like it’s on. Again. We make our way into the living room, and I make a mental note to re-title it ‘The ThunderDome’. My mind is racing, thinking about strategies, wrestling holds, strengths and weaknesses… She’s facing me with her hands on her hips, hair loose, the only thing she has on besides her yoga pants is a smirk. “You’re overthinkin’ this, you know.” Man, is she cocky! I kick off my flip-flops, pull my T-shirt off, fling it to the side and begin to circle her, figuring out a method of attack. She’s so cocky she doesn’t even turn to face me, just turning her head to watch me with that smirk. I decide to make her pay and spring at her as I get almost directly behind her. It almost works. I crash into her and take her down to the floor, scrambling to get a good position on top of her. She brings her knees up to keep me from sitting on her and shoves, sending me backwards but I stay upright. She rolls to the side and gets to her knees simultaneously and dives at me. I block her with a forearm but she latches onto it and pulls me down to the ground. She’s trying to throw her leg over my arm and trap it between her thighs but I get one foot planted against her butt and using that to brace myself I jerk my arm free and scoot backwards. I’m sitting on my butt with my knees up and she hops to her feet like a gymnast. Now it’s her turn to start circling. “Not bad for a bookworm,” she says, “you learn that escape in a textbook?” I swivel to keep her in front of me. “Maybe I know some things you don’t.” She snorts with laughter. “Yeah, you know how to get your butt kicked by a girl. That’s some valuable knowledge, right there.” She feints and I react by going for her front leg, surprising her by not retreating and I take her down again. Now we’re facing each other lying sideways on the floor and I get one knee wedged between her legs and use it for leverage to move on top of her with a death grip on her wrists. Now it’s my turn to look down at her underneath me. “How’s the view from the bottom?” I pant. “Not too bad,” she says fake-sweetly, “I don’t expect I’ll be here too long.” Our legs are kicking furiously battling for position and I can feel the muscular tension of her hamstrings and quads. My legs are longer, but hers feel stronger and I sense that if I don’t keep away from them she’ll clamp them around me and start squeezing. I definitely don’t want that. She twisting her arms to break my grip on her wrists and I feel them about to break loose so in desperation I tear away from her and roll away, even though I had been on top I know I wouldn’t have been there long. We both hop to our feet at the same time and I’m already breathing hard. She raises her hands and tucks her hair behind her ears, flexing her biceps as she does. She catches me eyeing them and brings her arm over to plant a kiss on her muscle. “Remember these, Justin?” and does a double flex. I feel my confidence leaking away as I look at the tanned, muscled sexpot in her skin-tight yoga pants standing in front of me posing, her white, tan-lined breasts rising with her flex. Jesus, she’s built! And stunningly gorgeous. Now she takes a step forward, holding up her hands. “Do you suck at Mercy as much as you do at wrestling?” She’s offering a direct challenge. Do I, a 21-year-old man, want to engage in a test of brute strength with an 18-year-old girl? I hesitate and she wiggles her fingers. “Oh, come on, college boy. You gonna back down from a girl?” I know it’s foolish to react to her gibe, but fuck it. If I can’t beat her at Mercy then I deserve to lose. I reach out and we grip each other tightly. She gives a sudden jerk and now we’re standing chest-to-chest. Oh fuck. This was a mistake. I can’t believe how powerful her grip is as my fingers start to turn from red to white. She must sense my trepidation as she leans up against me, breasts brushing my chest, looking up into my face with our hands shoulder-high. “I can do a fingertip pullup like a rock climber. Can you?” She’s biting her lower lip coquettishly, a word I doubt she even knows, having fun with me. I try to keep the pain out of my face as she torques my hands sideways and begins to curl them back, thoroughly in control. In a moment, she’s going to force me to my knees. Damn it! Desperate times call for desperate measures and I throw caution to the wind and try one of those stupid backyard moves you try as a kid that looks great in the movies but never works in real life. Except this time it does. I jerk backwards with all my rapidly-fading strength and pull her along with me. As I fall onto my back I get my foot planted in her stomach and shove as hard as I can still holding onto her hands. She sails over me, does a complete flip and slams into the carpet on her back, hard. I can hear the breath whoosh out of her. As she does I’m hanging onto her hands for all I’m worth – if I let go she’ll be on me and I’m dead. In a flash of crazed inspiration, I decide to roll with it, using my grip on her to assist me and somehow do a back somersault and land with an oomph on her stomach which surprises us both. Before she can recover I tear my hands loose, dive on her and plant my butt on her chest. I try to grab her hands but she’s starting to gather herself so I don’t even know why, but I wrap my arms desperately around her head and pull her tight into my chest. Then I hold on while a volcano erupts. She tries to work her arms in between us but my grip is too tight. Then she tries pulling my shoulders from behind but I hunch in and keep as low a profile as I can and she can’t get a good grip. In the meantime she’s bridging like crazy, but the extra 50 pounds I have on her aren’t making it easy for her. Then she starts thrashing from side to side as I hang on like my arms are made of Velcro. Then she makes her only mistake. She rolls to the side on top of my thigh and in an instant I wrap my legs around her and lock my ankles. She winds up on top of me but her head is still trapped in my arms and my long legs are tight around her waist. In an astonishing display of strength she manages to get on all fours with me hanging from her upside down like a sloth and I’m not letting go. This is the first time I’ve had any sort of leverage over her and I aim to capitalize. She’s bucking like mad and can't rise with me hanging from her and I persevere. “Why, you long tall drink of water – where in the HELL did you come up with that old-timey move?!” Her voice is muffled by my chest but I can hear the frustration in her tone. “Not telling,” I grunt, trying to pretend that this is not taking every ounce of my strength. If she stays on her hands and knees another 30 seconds I won’t make it. Then, to my utter amazement, she caves. She lets her arms fold and she collapses on top of me face down, her head still buried in my chest. While my eyes dart frantically trying to see where the trick is, I see her right hand extend to the side and tap the carpet. “All right,” her muffled voice says, “You got me. I give up.” I don’t believe her. While I try to figure out her game I feel her body relax and now she’s resting on top of me, her breasts flattened against me, her deeply-muscled back rising and falling. I unlock my legs but keep my arms where they are. I feel a tremor on my chest and I realize she’s laughing. I guess I really did beat her! I let go of her head and she tilts her head up and rests her chin on my chest, her china-blue eyes twinkling as she looks at my amazed expression. “Son-of-a-bitch,“ she smiles, “you got some gumption in you.” “I won.” I say, still not quite believing it. “Yessir, you did.” “You lost the bet.” She smiles mysteriously. “Did I?” “Hold on now,” I say, starting to get heated, “You said if your prediction was wrong you’d concede the bet.” “I know what I said. If my prediction is wrong, you win.” “That’s right!” “Well go ahead and check it out, then! Don’t be calling me a liar or we’ll start all over again!” She doesn’t seem to want to get off me, still lying on top of me with those Hall-of-Fame breasts, but I can reach my phone if I stretch so I grab it and power up. Her text appears as the screen lights; U will have a hard on Even as I read it I feel her hand sliding down in between our hips, where our pelvises are pressing against each other, and it finds my cock underneath my shorts. She gives it a slight squeeze and of course, like a complete fucking idiot, I’m erect. “Damn,” she says, “You have a hard-on a cat couldn’t scratch. Guess I win, then.” Now she spreads her legs wide and her hand begins to stroke me, gently at first then faster and faster while I squirm helplessly. “Stop! Stop!” I’m panting and she just grins up at me, having a great old time while her hand is busy at work. I latch onto her wrist and it doesn’t make the slightest bit of difference. “You won!” she says, “That means you get to have the big Orgasmo.” “No, no, this is too humiliating…” “Awww… come on baby… you can do it…” Seconds later I am cumming in my shorts and she laughs. Then as I get my composure back she continues to lie on top of me, her hands folded on my chest with her chin resting on them, studying my face. After a while she says, “Your Daddy’s rich, ain’t he?” “Well, rich is a relative term.” “Well ain’t your Daddy a relative?” “I mean the term ‘rich’ means different things to different people.” “Uh-huh. Answer me this – when did you get your first car?” “When I got my driver’s license.” “And how old were you?” “Sixteen.” “Was it new or used? I mean Pre-Owned.” “It was a new Ford Explorer.” “That was five years ago. What are you driving now?” I see where she is going with this and answer a little hesitantly. “A… BMW X5.” “I knew it! Your Daddy’s rich and that means you’re gonna be rich too.” “What about you? It’s not fair you get to ask me all these questions and I don’t?” “Ok. Whattya want to know?” “How old were you when you got your first car?” “I’M STILL WAITIN, RICH BITCH!” “Oh. You don’t have a car.” “Hell to the damn no. My family ain’t got no money!” “But this is an expensive school.” “Tell me about it. Turns out I got some skills.” “What skills?” “I guess I can do pretty good with numbers.” “You mean math?” “What other numbers are there, dumbass?” “You don’t have to get angry.” “I ain’t angry! I guess I’m just bein’…defensive. At least that’s what my social worker told me.” I’m trying not to get another erection but her lying on top of me is making it extremely difficult to maintain my focus. She doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to get off. I say, "Well if we're going to make this work we need to set some boundaries." "What - you mean like draw a line down the middle of the condo?" "No. I mean personal boundaries." "I get you. You mean like no leaving my undies hanging from the shower rod." "We each have our own bathroom so that's not an issue." "Damn - that's right! This is way the fuck better than the dorm!" "I mean boundaries like no sitting on my face." "Man, you sound kinda strict. We’ll have to see how that goes.” “And when Janice gets here, can you kind of make yourself scarce?” “When’s she coming?” “In ten days. She driving up for the weekend.” “Oooh…. “she breaks out with that evil-looking grin again. “”This oughta be fun.” |
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#37
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Re: How not to fight a drunk girl
I'm preeeeety sure Janice is not going to like him living with Jessica.
I definitely like the posts where they wrestle the most. Thanks for continuing this, mate. |
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#38
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Re: How not to fight a drunk girl
Not trying to let the cat out of the bag, but I can see a Jessica vs Janice match for the big prize materializing here. Then again, so many angles and directions this could go.
As always, a job well done! |
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#40
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Re: How not to fight a drunk girl
Quite possibly my favorite story of yours so far, and that's saying alot. Thanks for writing this dude
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