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The fist rocketed past my face. It was as if the entire world went into slow motion. I remembered every hair, pore, and bead of sweat on that entire arm as it railed past my sight. My eyes met his as he finished his straight punch, but my hands were still raised up to my cheeks. Punch him back, hit him, do something! I yelled at myself in that moment. But my body didn’t answer. I was paralyzed; my skin felt like stone, like my muscles and bones were being burdened by a ton of frozen flesh.
Whap! That’s what it sounds like when you get hit in the face; don’t let the movies fool you. It’s a quick crack; you feel like it’s over. You feel like the guy just fucking murdered you and shattered your skull into dust. But your brain reboots and you can tell yourself that you’re fine, for the most part. I’ve been hit in the face enough times to get past the whole flashing lights, blacking out, and seeing stars bit.
“That was a great dodge, but you gotta follow up!” he said, as he offered a hand to my pathetic husk of a body, crumpled up on the floor. I turned over, and took his hand, and even the force of his helpful hand caused mild discomfort in me. What the hell is wrong with me?
“I know, I just-” I whimpered out.
“You just stood there, man.” he chuckled out. Jimmy was a truck driver. That means he probably goes to the gym once or twice a week, if he even has the time. The guy was always tired. He was one of those guys that has to mention it in every conversation. He was not the fittest man in the world; he was big, but most of it was Burger King and KFC. You could smell it in his panting-for-life breathes after he does anything that requires an ounce of effort. You didn’t want to get hit by Jimmy- no, you didn’t want to be seen getting hit by Jimmy. “You need to be coming in more, man. I’m not seeing you-”
He was interrupted was a sudden roar of several voices, coming from a small crowd from across the dimly lit basement. I couldn’t see much past the guys cheering on with their fists thrusting into the air as they encircled two figures, rolling around on the floor with the occasionally meaty crack of a punch here and there. Each new thwack sent the crowd into a frenzy. I got and walked towards the excitement as Jimmy shouted after me, “Ay, I ain’t done with you, yet!”
I was too short to see past the human fence of raging men; they all had at least a full head above me. I had to cut in sideways to witness something I didn’t think I’d ever seen in my life. On the ground, guarding his face, was Matt. Matt was not one to be messed with. He had the type of muscles that told you to fuck off before you even saw his face. But under that mountain of muscle, was a kind, high school physics teacher; the type that gave out full sized candy bars on Halloween with a bright smile and gave out reflective stickers to all the kids to put on their costumes. He’s the one that started all of this: about a year ago, the entire neighborhood was raging on about this child abductor on the loose. I remember it clearly, since everyone at work was jabbing at me about it, joking that I had to be careful because of my height (assholes). He wanted to start a neighborhood watch, but Town Hall wouldn’t have it. So he took matters into his own hands one day, and started training people in the neighborhood. No one doubted Matt; dude was in the army or something, probably killed a bunch of guys. He got me riled in all of this since I was his accountant, had been for at least five years now. I joined him because it felt like the right thing to do; get in shape, stick it to the man, make our own task force and hunt down pedophiles. We’d be the goddamned Justice League.
It started out innocently enough, with Matt just teaching us the basics: how to kick, punch, take a man down, get out of a grapple, etc. But soon Matt had a friend who had a friend who knew a guy… and the new members just started to pour in. Every Friday night it because lots of, “watch this move!” and “ever see this?” that started to spark up here and there. Before you knew it, we were just beating the shit out of each other for fun. I kept coming because I got tired of everyone making fun of me because I was small. I wanted to show everyone that it didn’t matter; I could kick your ass regardless. We all had things to prove like that; Jimmy didn’t want to be the fat guy, Matt didn’t want to be the nice guy; no one judged you here. No one ever made fun of my height here.
If you’re thinking this is a lot like Fight Club, it basically is. I’ve mentioned it to Matt who says he’s never read it or seen the movie, but I think he’s full of shit. I’d never say that to his face, but now I’ll have to reconsider now that I’m seeing the guy getting pinned right before my eyes. But that wasn’t the strangest part. I looked up to see who was pinning him. My jaw dropped as I saw a short, fit, Asian girl wailing away at the guarding Matt as she sat on his torso. Matt tried to wriggle his way out but the girl’s punches were as fast as pistons; it was insane. But soon, there was an opening: Matt deftly hammered his fist out, causing the girl to react, şişli grup yapan escort swiftly grabbing his attacking forearm. But this gave Matt just the opportunity to finally shove her off as her flurry stopped. Her back hit the floor hard as a sympathetic “ooh,” trailed out over the crowd. Matt slowly stood back up, and now I could see clearly how badly his face was battered and bruised, with a small trail of blood dripping from the side of his mouth. He turned to the girl, but she suddenly swung her leg out, sweeping Matt’s ankle. But Matt’s reflexes caught him, instead of falling on his ass, his knee hit the floor. But the girl was quicker than we all thought. She sprang up like a ninja, and just as fast, she lashed out with a spinning back kick right to Matt’s jaw, sealing the deal and sending him into the floor, face first. Another, more excited “ooh!” suddenly burst out from the crowd, but was followed by silence. We all just stood there, looking at Matt who was now knocked out on the ground, and this female warrior just standing over him.
“Told ya I was fast.” she said with a smirk. She placed her hands on her hips. “Alright, who do I collect from, cuz’ Bill Nye here is out cold.” That made me chuckle; he kind of did look like Bill Nye- and he was a science teacher, which was a bonus.
One guy in the crowd answered, “Ay, ay, we don’t do money matches here, sweet- I mean, lady.”
“Whatever, we made a bet, I’ll collect some other time.” She hastily picked up a gym bag as big as herself and marched through the crowd towards my direction, as the guys parted like the Red Sea for her. She marched past me, and I stared like an idiot. Her gaze forward was intense, but alluring. Her pitch black pupils seemed to have their own fierce gravity, and my eyes were being forcefully pulled in. Thankfully, she didn’t even notice my staring. She was almost the same height as me, just a bit shorter, so I could just catch her scent as she brushed past me, her long black hair nearly sweeping me in the face; she used some matter of lavender shampoo, but it was masked by the sharp, musky smell of sweat. She nearly stepped on my toes, as she continued her path of victory, and she marched past me; an insect to her grand majesty. I continued to stare after as she strode through the basement towards the exit. She was wearing a loose, pink tank top with a black sports bra underneath, and tight, gray leggings. I gawked as I finally saw her heavenly ass. It was plump, yet firm, and sculpted like that of a goddess’. But I could tell, this ass wasn’t for show, it was merely a muscular piece of this fine machinery. Yet it jiggled ever so slightly as she walked on, and I could feel the spirit of my hands reaching out to just fucking grab those perfect, plump cheeks.
“Do you need something, bro?” she asked me.
“W-what?” I stammered out. Her eyes pierced into mine. All the nerves in my body just quit, and my legs went weak as I could feel a chill run up and down my spine, over and over.
“You started following me, buddy.” Her lips were thick and sexy, and her facial features were angled and strong. I noticed she didn’t have a single bruise on her tan, smooth, flawless skin… but all of that distracted me from the fact that my legs started to move on their own, like they were being piloted by my dick instead. “You got my payout or something?” she demanded.
“Oh, y-yeah, I do, yeah!” I was speaking way too loud for some reason. “Yeah, I’m Matt’s accountant.”
“Oh shit, I didn’t know it was that official,” she said with a beautiful smile. “He’s got a Fight Club accountant and everything here?” she exclaimed with great surprise. “You take care of member dues and crap like that?” she joked, laughing.
“Oh, no, no, actually, I-” My words trailed into pathetic throat crackles as I also tried to chuckle a bit, but it just turned into pathetic wheezing.
“You okay, man?” She said, her perfect smile fading into worry.
“No, no- I mean, yeah, I’m good.” I coughed out, causing her to dodge my spit. “Sorry! Sorry, I just-”
“Getting my payout?” she teased with a teethy grin. Her teeth were alright, if you were wondering; no one’s perfect, not even her.
“Yeah, no, I was just saying that I also fight… and stuff- not here to be an accountant.” I chuckled.
“No shit!” she shouted, startling me a bit. “A tiny guy like you could probably run circles around these muscle-heads.”
I gave out a tired laugh, trying to be genuine. “That’s a good one,” I squeezed out another awkward chortle.
“Nah! I’m serious!” she suddenly got a lot more pep in her. “You gotta surprise ’em. They’re already looking down at you; but when you get that one punch in, their whole world-” she mimed an explosion with her fingers, “boom, it all goes to shit, and their minds aren’t in the fight anymore. Take a look at Bill Nye over there.” she motioned her head back towards Matt, who was now in a chair, dazed, with his friends trying to get him to drink from a water bottle. I looked back at her, lost in thought. “So right, about my money?” şişli masöz escort
“Uh… sure how much was it?”
“Jesus,” I mumbled under my breath. I walked over to my gym bag, took out my wallet, pulled out three twenties and handed it to her, which she proceeded to snatch with the speed and ferocity of a viper.
“Thanks!” She proceeded to immediately turn her back. But I don’t care how pretty or dangerous you are; as an accountant, I have a moral obligation to make sure all the money is sorted perfectly (also, that’s my money). The nerves in my body powered back up and the chills halted, transforming into a fiery mathematical rage.
“Hey!” I shouted after her. She stopped, and turned back, shocked to see me speak up for the first time without dribbling my words out like a baby. “That’s three twenties!”
She smirked back at me. “Like they say, ‘can’t get money past an accountant’, huh?” she declared.
“What?” I spurted out. “No one says that. That’s not even catchy.”
“Really? I could’ve sworn I heard that in a movie or some-”
I put my finger up to stop her from speaking as her smirk snapped into a frown. “You’re a good fighter. But you’re not a talker. I’m gonna need that ten right now.”
Her smirk reset. “How about this-”
“There’s no negotia-”
“How about I give you that ten bucks… say… tomorrow at my place?” Her eyes narrowed with a sharp slyness and her grin was sexy yet mischievous.
My heartbeat began to thump hard in my chest. “Did… did you just ask me out?”
She rolled her eyes, “Yes… duh.” she teased. She swiftly reached into her bag, and thrust out a business card at me, making me wince again, but that just caused her to smile and laugh a bit. “Here.”
I reach out at it, not sure if was all a dream or not. I looked at the card, then at her, then at the card again. Then I reached my arm out for the card, but she suddenly jerked her hand back, causing me to miss it. I sighed.
“Don’t sigh at me! Get it!” she laughed.
I furrowed my brow in determination. This was definitely some kind of compatibility test, and I’d sooner be dead then lose a chance to date that fine ass. She moved the card back down, and I readied by hand. I slowly breathed in, then out, in, then out. To be honest, I don’t know what I was doing, but breathing seemed like a good first step. With a sudden breath I lashed out my arm to grab the card, but I was too slow, and she receded in time. I stepped forward, and she instinctively poised to grab my arm, thinking I was moving forward to grab the card again. Instead, I pivoted on my foot, and used the momentum to sweep at her ankle. However, she already thrust her foot into the back of my heel, stopping my attack. I went for an elbow to her chest in the opposite direction, but she quickly ducked under and thrust a fist right into my gut, knocking the wind out of me. My legs went weak once more, and I fell on my knees, clenching my stomach.
“Good… one…” I mustered through the coursing pain.
“Good try; I actually wasn’t expecting that” she replied, and she handed the card to me once more. I breathed in again, but she stopped me. “It’s okay, just take it.”
I looked into her dark eyes, and with a single motion I snatched it.
“That was actually slower than the last attempt.” She suddenly spun around, and went for the door. “My place, 6 PM, bring something to fight in.”
“What?” I yelled after. “I thought this was a date?” But she already went through the door. Just my luck, I get a date with a hot girl and all she wants to do is kick my ass. I looked at her business card.
“Jordyn,” I said under my breath.
I showed up at her front door. Her house was nothing special, it was pretty small, but she mentioned that she was splitting rent with two roommates who were out for the rest of the weekend. Her business card was for her personal training service, which I might actually take her up on; it’s better than getting my ass kicked in some guy’s basement. But I imagine it’s not the most lucrative job, so she lives here in the more modest part of the neighborhood.
I dressed in a loose, white t-shirt and black sweatpants, nothing fancy. My legs and arms would not stop vibrating from pure nervousness, and I think I screwed up my arms doing push ups an hour earlier, to look a bit more muscular, but I’m not sure if that would ever offset my height. I was “ok” in the physical fitness department, obviously fighting a bunch of dudes every week for a year has to make you at least a little bit formidable, right? But that doesn’t make you any taller. As I looked at my reflection in her screen door, I couldn’t help but just feel like a short loser. My brain kept telling me just run away from this beast of a girl… but my other set of brains in the lower region couldn’t stop dreaming of that sweet ass.
I rang the doorbell and waited for a good minute. I checked the time on my şişli otele gelen escort phone: 6:02 PM. I didn’t sweat it; shit happens. I waited around her front door, tapping my foot, fiddling with my phone, expecting her to open the door at any moment… but, nothing. I rang the doorbell again. Was she in the middle of prepping dinner or something? I checked my text history: nothing. Another minute went by. Shit, was she ghosting me? Wait, you can’t get ghosted at the other person’s house… I looked in her window, I saw nothing but bits of an empty living room. Was everything okay?
I texted her, “Hey… at your front do-” No wait, should I tell a joke? I deleted the text, and replaced it with, “Hey ninja-girl, why don’t you use your ninja senses to sense me outsi-” Backspace, backspace, backspace. Is it racist to call her a ninja just because she’s Asian? The message was stupid anyway. I just typed “At your front door. Running late?” and sent it out. I sat down on her stairs, starting to wonder. I looked at my phone again after a while: 6:17 PM. What the fuck is going on? Is everything alright? Did she die from a carbon monoxide leak? I bursted up, and went for the screen door and tried to open it- it was already unlocked.
“What?” I said to myself in a hushed tone. My palms got sweaty, and my heart rate increased. I slowly turned the knob on her front door. It was unlocked, too. She’s late. Her doors were unlocked. This is not good.
I opened the door quietly and peaked inside. I saw a normal living room; cheap, leather, two-seater sofa, dusty and beaten, with foam peeking out of the torn edges. It was accompanied by two plastic chairs at each side, all of them surrounding a small, short coffee table that was littered with plastic cups, a couple stacked, one fallen, and two half-filled. Underneath the coffee table was a plastic jug filled with a pure, thick green juice of some kind, which the plastic cups were also filled with; probably a protein shake, or something? Across from the table and furniture was a large plasma screen television, which was playing some talk show. The screen was sitting on a small shelf, stocked with books about fitness. I tip-toed forward and kept my head down and my wits about me. To my right was a hallway with a couple doors; must be the bedrooms. Directly in front of me was the kitchen, also empty, and to the left was a stairway that lead down into the basement.
I snuck down the hallway and peeked into the first room: nothing. The second room: empty. The closet: filled with cleaning supplies. I got to the final room and opened the door. The first thing that greeted me was a large, almost terrifying poster of Bruce Lee plastered on the opposite wall, above her bed. No doubt, this was Jordyn’s room. Scattered about the room were numerous dumbbells, along with a yoga mat unraveled in the center of the room. On a cheap wooden desk in the corner was an open book with several lines of text highlighted in different colors, next to a blender filled with the same juice from before, with a few droplets of green liquid scattered about the desk. I turned on her small, plastic reading lamp and turned the cover to see that it was a beaten up hardcover copy of The Book of Five Rings, by ancient Japanese swordsman Miyamoto Musashi. I had read passages from the book before… but I had to focus now. I walked back through the hallway and into the living room, but there were no signs of struggle. The place was a bit disheveled, but everything was aligned, nothing broken, nothing damaged, even.
I slowly paced down the stairway, careful not to make a single noise. I kneeled before the door and pressed by ear against the bottom. I waited there for a whole minute, and heard nothing. I was sure as hell that I didn’t make a single noise while checking upstairs. That was one advantage of being small: less weight to carry around makes you extra sneaky. I sighed, and stood up. I gathered all of my courage and finally turned the knob on the door. As the brass knob turned, my heart beat faster and faster, and my legs shook more and more. Finally, I was able to peak in. All there was in my sight was an empty hardwood floor. I opened the door even more. The entire basement was just a large rectangular room, fully lit, with white walls, and a single wooden door on the right wall.
“What… kind of room is this…?” I whispered to myself.
“The battlefield!” a familiar voice roared from above me. I quickly spun around only to see Jordyn flying down at me- did she mount the top of the door and just wait there? This girl is insane! All I could do is put my arms up over my face in defense, but her entire body hit me like a meteor, and I crashed to the floor on my back as she mounted me. Fuck- I first thought of Matt and how he got flurried to a bloody pulp… but as she wound up a punch, her whole figure was on full display to me. She was wearing a low cut, black sports bra, along with tight black spandex shorts. Her breasts were large, probably D-cups- she could barely stuff all of that sexy meat into that bra that pressed her tits up so her cleavage was on a godsent display of pure eroticism. Her shoulders were broad and strong for a woman, but she wasn’t too incredibly muscular; just enough to define her sweet, sweet curves. Her abs and biceps were well defined but her body was still shaped like an hourglass. Her tan skin shined flawlessly against the light, her bronze perfection smooth and inviting.
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