“Does it hurt when you get kicked in the face?” asked Holt, the man I was currently on a date with. I bit my lip trying to not just blurt out that he was an idiot. After mentally counting to ten, I felt like I could answer nicely.
“Yes, getting hit anywhere hurts, but you don’t really think about it much when you’re in the octagon.” I took a sip of my wine and prayed the waiter brought us the check soon.
It wasn’t that Holt wasn’t attractive, or that he was a bad guy; he was pretty nice, actually. He was around six foot, a little on the smaller than average size, and he wasn’t built, but you could tell he worked out. He had pretty brown eyes and sandy blond hair. He had opened doors for me, held out my chair, treated me with respect, and tried to engage in conversation with me. I should have been begging him to give me his babies, right?
Wrong. He was too sweet, and while I was sure he would make some librarian woman very happy, I, on the other hand, fought in the MMA for a living. I loved it; it was a passion. My friend Cammy had set me up with this guy, thinking he would sweep me off my feet, but as soon as I’d seen him I had called how the date would go. He just wasn’t man enough for me.
The sound of his cell phone ringing brought me back to reality. He reached down into his pocket to see who it was, then pushed it back into his slacks.
“Sorry, my mom was wondering how the date was going.” He smiled knowingly, like I knew the feeling of having a caring mother. I did, but she wasn’t involved in my love life. I tried to keep that information from her because she was a sex therapist, and she loved to try and help me in the love department. I smiled and sipped some more wine. I was going to have to pee really bad after this date.
“So, I’ve probably got a few more hours before she will wonder when I’m coming home; would you like to do something else? Maybe see a movie?”
I almost spit that sip of good wine all over the table. After swallowing, I couldn’t keep it in anymore.
“You live with your mom?”
He smiled and nodded.
“Yeah, she’s been going through a rough time. Got divorced from her second husband two years ago. She needs the company. It’s nice though, I rarely have to cook anything.” I could tell he was truly happy about his life.
“Well, good for you. I’m gonna go, this isn’t going to work out for me. I’m looking for something different. Have a good night.” I pulled a hundred out of my clutch and knew that would cover the bill and then some. I didn’t want to sit there anymore with the sweet mamma’s boy.
“Are you sure? I thought we had something. We could go get ice cream and walk in the park?” He was so sweet and sincere, it was almost painful.
“Unless you are going to lick the ice cream off my tits and fuck me hard in the park, then yeah, I’m sure.” The shocked look on his face told me he would not be doing that. Shame. I waved goodbye and turned to leave the restaurant. Some of the people looked at me as I walked by and I could see the recognition flare in them.
I smiled politely because that’s what I’d been told to do, and kept on walking. As soon as the valet saw me, he spoke into a walkie and called for my car.
“Hey you’re Rayne Jackson!” said one of a group of teens as they passed by and then stopped. I smiled seeing their faces. I did enjoy meeting people who supported me in the MMA world.
“Yep, it’s me!” I exclaimed. One kid looked nervous; taking a guess at what he wanted, I held my hand out.
“Hand it over.” The kids face paled. Oh no, that’s not what I was aiming for.
“Your phone. I wanna take a picture with you guys.” I smiled and the kid’s face beamed—all five of them did. I loved this. The one kid pulled out his phone and set it on camera mode before handing it over. We gathered together and I fit us all on the screen.
“Say cheesecake!” I smiled and clicked the button, then handed it back to the kid.
“Thank you for the picture. Make sure you tag me on Facebook and Twitter.” The looks on the kids’ faces were priceless. The boys had their chests puffed out like little badasses, and the two girls glowed.
“Thanks! We’re rooting for you. We hope you beat Tasha’s ass!” one of the boys said excitedly.
“Thanks guys,” I said just as the valet pulled my car up. I waved to them and they cheered then said bye. I tipped the valet, hopped into my little BMW sedan, and pulled out onto the street. I took a deep breath and cleared my thoughts. I was ready to get home, take a shower, and have a one-on-one session with B.O.B. I pulled into my apartment complex and waited for the gate to scan the little security bar code on my back window to allow me to enter the underground parking lot.
Before I even got out of the car I took off my heels; I wasn’t a big heels girl. I wore them, because even I liked to be pretty and wear dresses and killer heels, but man did they make my feet sore. With my heels in my hand, I got out of the car and headed up. The elevator ride to floor six was boring and I welcomed it. Once the doors opened, I shuffled to my apartment.
“Oh honey, didn’t go very well did it?” My neighbor Franny from across the hall opened the door. I gave her a shrug.
“He was sweet, but a huge mamma’s boy. He wouldn’t even lick ice cream off me,” I whined. She shook her head. Franny was in her seventies and was a widow. She had sort of adopted me when I’d moved in across from her, and she was a firecracker.
“That’s a shame. Everyone loves a good ice cream body sundae.” She turned and went back into her apartment, then was back in a flash with a plate covered with foil.
“Here’s some brownies for you.” She handed them over and I balanced them with my free hand.
“Thank you, I definitely need these. We still good for American Ninja next week?” I asked. She winked and waved me off.
“Of course dear, now go take a shower. Wash that wimpy boy off you.” She turned and closed the door.
After unlocking mine, I dropped the brownies off on the counter and went to do exactly what she’d said. I stayed under the warmth of the water’s spray for quite a long time before getting out and drying off. I wiped off the mirror and took in my appearance. My straight black hair was hanging over my breasts and stopped just below them. I always felt like a mystical mermaid when it did that. My green eyes were a dramatic contrast to the dark hair and pale skin. I had a few light freckles that decorated my upturned nose. I looked down at my body and examined myself. I was proud of the body I had worked for. I trained every day for hours—striking, grappling, cardio, and weights.
I grabbed my lotion and lathered up. My fingers massaged over the scars on my right leg a little more, trying to break up any scar tissue. I had finally started to embrace my scars.
A year before I’d been twenty-eight and in my prime. I was defeating every opponent that was thrown at me, and signed with the UFC and everything. It was the highlight of my life—until my fight with Tasha Talon. She was a feisty woman who’d had it out for me since I’d gotten signed to the UFC before her. I didn’t have any ill will toward her; I never cared if someone didn’t like me. I wasn’t going to be everyone’s favorite person, but I never went out of my way to be a bitch to anyone. I was a very laid back chick and just did whatever made me happy. Tasha, however, just wanted me gone.
In the beginning of our match, everything was going perfect, until she had me up against the edge of the octagon. She strike kicked and nailed me in the shin. The crack of the bone was so loud it was all I heard in the arena. Tasha had heard it too, but wrapped her leg around my broken one and rolled me over to the ground. I was writhing in pain when they called the match. I was taken out immediately and went to get some x-rays. I had a shattered tibia, and a torn meniscus and ACL. I was in need of surgery, and just like that my career in MMA was on hold. I knew people came back from these injuries, but I also knew it was a long, hard road. I knew it would be tough, but I was willing. I had to do it—and I did. I’d worked my ass off, and now I was three months away from my rematch with Tasha. I was looking forward to it—not for revenge, but to show her and myself that nothing could stop me.
I looked back up at my reflection, gave myself the “you got this girl” wink, went to check that my door was locked, and turned off the lights. I rolled onto my queen sized bed and reached into my nightstand. Bingo.
I pulled out my beautiful blue B.O.B. He was the best battery operated boyfriend any girl could ask for. I settled myself against my pillows and set B.O.B. next to me. I wasn’t ready for him just yet but I wanted him to be close when I was. I closed my eyes and thought of my sexy man. He was the same faceless man I thought of all the time. My dream man. He was tall and had an air of confidence that swirled around him. He walked toward me like a lion about to pounce on his prey. I felt my body shiver from his determination to have me. Once he got to me, his hand wrapped around my waist and moved with precision to my ass. With ease he lifted me up and pressed me against the wall with force.
My dream man was the ultimate alpha man, not an asshole, just confident and strong, and when he knew what he wanted, he got it. My legs wrapped around him and pulled his hips flush with mine.
My breaths started to grow heavy and I moved my fingers down to my sex; just visualizing my dream man was getting me so wet and primed. I continued the thoughts of my man pressing his cock against my core, making me cry out. I pressed two fingers against my clit and started moving in little circles.
His lips crashed against mine and he devoured my mouth with purpose. He was dominating me and I was enjoying it—hell, I craved it.
I knew I was building up to an orgasm fairly quickly. It had been a solid week since my last session. My vision took a turn for desperation: frantically our clothes were scattered about, I bit his lip and he growled.
I grabbed B.O.B. and rubbed him along the seam of my entrance. Go time. In the same motions of my dream man, I was filled with cock and screaming my release in minutes. The vibrations and the clit stimulator had me shaking and crying out. When I was done, I lay there and basked in my post orgasmic bliss.
If only a real man could give me the same earth shattering release. I’d yet to find one real guy that could replace dream man, but I wasn’t giving up. I would find him. I rolled out off my bed to clean myself and B.O.B. up, then went back to my comfy sheets and passed out.
Time to go Cinderella
I woke up to a loud knocking sound on my door. I was going to beat somebody. My coach had actually given me the day to rest, and I wanted to take full advantage of that, starting with those brownies for breakfast. The knocking sound continued. I rolled over and looked at my clock on the nightstand: 7 AM!