Her Anger Builds

Her Anger Builds  
 
 
Her fist flew past his ear, missing it by a millimeter. If he dodged any later, his eyeball would be firmly lodged in his brain.
 
He holds up both his hands, "Whoa! What was that for??"
 
She whips her foot around, aiming for this head. "You know exactly why," her foot slams against his forearm as he attempts to protect himself, "you," kick, "fucking," kick, "asshole!"
 
She could feel the welts forming along her shin. She bites her lip and ignores the pain. Her eyes drilled into him. She has never felt this angry before.  
 
She could feel her whole body shaking with rage. She watches him as he rubs his forearm.  
 
Fucking bony arms.
 
Her breathing starts to calm, and she almost feels sorry for reacting this way when she sees him walk through the door. Slowly, her rage dissipates.  
 
With her fists at her hips, she tilts her head back and closes her eyes. She breathes in slow and deep.
 
He starts to say something, "I..." but her head drops back down, and she looks straight into his eyes, "I thought we were friends." The disappointment in her voice hangs between them. He looks away.
 
She picks up her bag and walks out the door.
 
He calls her the next day. No answer. The day after that. No answer.
 
He sends her countless confused, apologetic, furious, and then apologetic again and even attempts humorous text messages. No answer.
 
After three days of unanswered calls and texts, his phone vibrates with a message from her.  
 
"This is what you wanted. Silence."
 
He finally understood what made her angry, but it was too late.
 
Two weeks later, he sees her car parked outside the dojo late at night. He hasn't been there since the last time they saw each other. He stands outside, hesitant about seeing her, imagining what the confrontation might be like considering the last time they met; she almost took his head off.  
 
He breathed deeply and hoped she would be civil but prepared himself for the worst.
 
He walks in. She's practicing alone. Sensei must've given her the keys to lock up. He wonders if she had told anyone what had happened between them. One minute, they were laughing and joking like long-lost friends, and the next, whenever his name was mentioned in front of her, she would walk away from the conversation.
 
"Hey," he says.
 
She looks at him without expression and continues kicking the punching bag hanging from the ceiling.
 
"Been a while. How've you been?" he tries again, walking closer to her.
 
Right roundhouse kick, left roundhouse kick. Thwack, Thwack.
 
"Look, I understand why you're so mad, and I don't think you can blame me entirely."
 
Her eyes darted towards him at this, and she could feel her rage boiling again. But still, she doesn't say anything. She puts her fists up higher and kicks the bag even harder.
 
He could see his words finally struck a nerve. He decides to provoke her some more.
 
"I think you're being unreasonable," he walks around the punching bag, "I was busy," he circles behind her, "I didn't have time, and texting takes so much effort sometimes..."
She spins around, throwing a hook kick with her heel aiming at the side of his head. He steps off to the side, but the kick misses him.
 
"Such BULL shit!" she exclaims.
 
"It's not bullshit, alright?" he replies, matching her volume.
 
"Fuck you. If you don't respect me enough to tell me the truth, then fuck you. Goodbye," she starts walking towards her gym bag.
 
He runs over and grabs her arm to stop her. "I thought the truth would upset you..." he mumbles, "I didn't think you would understand."
 
She glares up at him. Then, down at his hand wrapped around her forearm. He lets go.
 
"Fuck. You." She picks up the strap of her bag. Just as she is about to throw it over her shoulder, he exclaims, "It's not My fault that you like me and don't know how to deal with it."
 
She stands with her back to him. She throws the strap back down and turns around.
 
"Like you?" she storms over to him, "Like you?? Let me show you how much I like you right now."
 
She punches him in the gut. His body folds, his feet falling backward. She follows up with a knee to his chest, then an elbow to his back, knocking him down to the floor. "That's how much I like you right now."
 
She walks away, but he grabs her foot and pulls her backward. Caught off guard, she falls and lands on her side. She tries to kick her foot free from his grip, but his hand is big enough to wrap around her ankle quickly. With one strong pull, he slides her whole body down next to him.  
 
He climbs on top of her, straddling her stomach, knees up against her armpits. The more she struggles, the harder he squeezes his thighs together, limiting her movement and breathing.
 
"Stop struggling! Look, we were talking for a while... and I mean, I like you too, well, not in that way...at first... but then..." he looks away and starts rambling about their history and friendship.  
 
She notices him loosening his grip. Little by little, she wiggles further out until her elbows can touch his knees. "You know... I didn't want to jeopardize..." she waits for an opportunity, an opening, " and then I got swamped. I did not lie, but I guess what I'm trying to say is... maybe I have feelings for you too."
 
Stunned by his revelation, she stops moving and looks up at him. He looks back down at her.
 
"What did you say?" she asks.
 
"I." he leans down on his elbows next to her head, their noses almost touching, "like you."
 
His head tilts down to kiss her when suddenly, he's flying through the air above his head and lands on his back. She back rolls and lands, sitting on top of him. She stares into his eyes curiously, trying to detect his seriousness. Looking up at her face, he remembers when they first met.
 
"I'm sorry I pissed you o..." she smothers his mouth with hers before he's able to finish apologizing. She wraps both her arms around his head, and he wraps his around her waist.  
 
They kissed in full embrace, their tongues intertwining, their breathing escalating. When their kiss naturally slowed, she pulled back, looking into his eyes. She sat up and got off of him, kneeling next to him. He sat back up, watching her.
 
"Umm... we should..." she points at the door, but her eyes lingered on his tented crotch, "you know, we should lock up and, uh... head out... getting late."
 
He smiles as he watches him.
 
r struggle to finish the sentence, her mind clearly on something else.
 
"Mumm... no," he says as he pulls her in by the lapel to kiss her again.
 
Her stomach flutters. She moans into his mouth but gently pushes him away.
 
"I want nothing more than to strip those pants off you and have my way with you on this floor, but I promised Sensei I would lock up," and with that, she stood up, grabbed her bag, and beckoned for him to follow.
 
As she locked the door from the outside, he stepped up behind her and nuzzled his nose along the nape of her neck, letting her stray hairs brush against his face. Whenever she worked out, he could catch a whiff of her musky scent, enticing him. This was the first time he could smell it right from her skin. He let out a hot breath that flowed down her shoulder blade.  
 
Her chest began to heave. She slowly turned around to face him.  
 
They lean in close, lips parting and barely touching. She licks his bottom lip with the tip of her tongue. When he tries to dive in for something more, she tilts her head to the side, getting close to his ear. "Walk me to my car," she breathes into his ear, then bites his earlobe. Tingles crawl from his ear down to his spine.
 
He drapes his arm around her shoulders and walks her toward her car. He opens the driver's side door for her. She throws her bag in the passenger seat but doesn't get in. She faces him and presses her body against his, gliding her arms up around his neck to pull him in for a deep, passionate kiss. He grabs at her back and slender waist. She could feel his hard-on pressing against her stomach. She snakes her hand past the elastic waistband into his pants and grabs hold of his warm thick penis.
 
"MMF," he moans. She starts gently stroking from the base to the tip, picturing it pummeling into her hot pussy. Just imagining it has made her gush below. His hands rest along the waistband of her pants, the backs of his fingers grazing her hipbone. He dips one finger inside, searching for the top of her panties. Lower and lower, he searches, but he only feels skin. Soon, his fingers were so far down that he could touch her wet folds.  
 
He pauses. Sensing his thinking, she leans into his ear and says, "I never wear underwear when I'm working out." He lets out a shocked groan.  
 
Thinking back to all the times they sparred and grappled and realizing now that all that separated him and her hot love box was one thin layer of fabric, it was almost more than he could take.
 
He kneels and pulls her pants down, exposing her pussy to the cool night air. She leans back against the car as his fingers and tongue start exploring her wet hole. Her knees almost buckle when he plunges his long, thick fingers deep inside her snatch. He digs more deeply, and her moans grow louder. Luckily, the streets are quiet tonight. His thumb strums at her clit while his tongue licks at her soft, slippery pussy lips. A cool breeze washes over her body, igniting her. He could feel her thighs stiffen and her walls clamping down on his fingers. Half moaning, half-whimpering, she holds onto his shoulder to stabilize herself as her orgasm ripples through her. He stands back up, and they kiss. She grabs his hand and sucks on his fingers, licking off her cum juices. She watches his reaction as her mouth wraps around his fingers, her soft tongue swirling around his knuckles. Her other hand rubs his erection through his pants.
 
"Get in the back seat," she says. Hurriedly, he opens the door and dives inside. She steps out of her pants and follows him, closing the door behind her. Once in the car, she kisses him fiercely, climbing onto his lap. She grinds up against his stiff cock, rubbing her clit against the rough fabric of his pants. He grabs at her waist and back, pushing up her shirt and bra, exposing her hard, pink nipples. He sucks at her heaving bosom, scraping his teeth on her sensitive nips. Her hands rake through his hair to the back of his head, holding his neck. She leans in close and licks his earlobe.  
 
She whispers, "I want your hard, thick cock. Now."
 
He lifts her slightly and pushes his pants and underwear down to his knees. She curls her fingers around his rock-hard member. She spreads the precum around the head with her thumb and slowly sits down, pushing him inside her. Her face contorts, gasping as she feels him split her tight twat. Her hips slide back and forth. She relishes in each thrust back, deep and powerful. He pulls her down for a kiss and then pushes her down to lie on the seat. She lies on her side as he enters her again. He grabs onto her thigh as he feverishly hammers into her sopping, wet cunt. He throws his head back, grunting like a beast in heat. Their panting steams up the windows, and for a second, she wonders if anyone can see the car rocking.  
 
She clutches the seat so hard her nails puncture the cover. Her breathing quickens as he picks up his pace, tightly gripping her and the back of the chair. Her head starts spinning, and her whole body feels hot. She Comes, screaming out his name.
 
The extra pressure of her pussy clamping down on his dick, coupled with his rapid strokes, makes him cum, hard. "Aww!" his body tightens, and he buries his cock deep within her, releasing everything.
 
He falls back into the seat, leaning against the door, trying to catch his breath. She pulls herself back up, her chest still heaving. He crawls up close to her, tilting his head on her shoulder. She turns and kisses him on the forehead. He looks up at her and smiles. She touches the corner of his mouth and traces his lips with her forefinger.
 
"We should get going before the cops show up," he jokes.
 
Smiling, she looks around for her pants before suddenly realizing, "I think my pants are still outside."
 
When she opens the door, there's nothing on the ground.