Bruiser: A Lonely Housewife Embarks on a Passionate Affair with an Alpha Male MMA Fighter (8 page)

Chapter Twenty Six

Ava

“You want me to do
what
?”

“Man the phones for a couple of hours,” Brandon explained to Ava, down the phone. “Mia crapped out on me, so I’ve got to teach this class – but I can’t leave the front desk empty.”

Ava was standing in the living room, watching Lex sitting cross-legged on the floor playing with his Imaginext Batman toys. In the office next door was Clark, the door open and television blaring. Harley was still in school.

She thought about it for a minute – about Clark’s eye-rolling and pouting if she asked him to look after the kids for the afternoon.

“But what about
the business
?” he’d whine.

But Clark had just been away for three days in Ohio, and was due down to DC the next month for another comic convention. If you added up all the evenings, and weekends, and holidays that he’d worked recently, a few hours this afternoon
more
than made up for it.

“I’ll see you soon,” Ava promised - and before she’d even hung up on Brandon, she was calling into the study with her cutest, sweetest, most irresistible “honey, would you?” voice.

*              *              *

Clark didn’t like it, but he knew that if he wanted to get laid any time before his trip to DC next month, he’d better keep Ava sweet, so he reluctantly agreed to watch Lex, and pick Harley up from the bus-stop later.

And that left Ava free to head to the karate center.

She took a few minutes to spritz herself with body spray and put on some makeup – both things she’d never normally have the energy to do. Then she clambered into her Buick, and roared off towards BB Martial Arts Center with the twin exhausts of her SUV burbling loudly.

*              *              *

“Thank God you’re here,” Brandon’s eyes flashed when Ava came stomping through the front door of the karate center. “The class is already waiting and the phone’s been ringing off the hook.”

Brandon was looking flustered and anxious, tying closed his crumpled
karategi
and anxiously checking on the dozen women and moms stretching and gossiping in the studio.

“Relax, B,” Ava grinned, ushering him out of the reception area. “Go focus on your class. I’ve got this.” Then, when Brandon hung back, she playfully swatted his ass and snapped, “Don’t make me spank you.”

That broke Brandon out of his anxiety.

“I don’t know,” his eyes flashed. “I might like that.”

And then he was gone.

Ava stood by the glass windows looking into the studio, and watched him greet the class and explain Mia’s absence.

Having the skinny Jewish mom replaced by a burly hunk of man-meat like Brandon didn’t seem to upset any of the class attendees. In fact, some of the moms exchanged playful glances with each other – as if to say: “If I’d known he would be teaching class, I’d have shaved my legs.”

Laughing, Ava padded to the reception desk and flopped down gratefully.

Barely five seconds passed before the phone started ringing.

“BB Martial Arts Center,” Ava put on her best receptionist voice.

“Yeah,” came the reply. “This is the school run by the MMA guy, right?”

Ava blinked.

“I’m not sure what you’re…”

“The MMA guy,” the guy on the other end of the phone barked. “I just saw the line-up for next month’s fight. Bruiser Broderick – he runs your school, right?” There was an anxious pause. “Does he do classes?”

Ava blinked. Thinking on her feet, she read off the times of Brandon’s Krav Maga and Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu classes, and finished with a cheery: “Hope to see you there.”

Within minutes there had been another call.

“Does Broderick teach MMA classes there?”

And another.

Soon Ava was writing down these names and telephone numbers, ready to get Brandon to call all these potential leads back. Half a dozen of them, all within a couple of hours.

When Brandon finally emerged from class, his flat face red and sweaty, Ava looked up with wide eyes and held up the stack of Post-It notes she’d scrawled on.

“I take it you agreed to the fight,” she beamed.

Brandon wiped his face with a towel.

“Yeah,” he admitted.

“Well, you might not have told
me
– despite me being, like, the
reason
you said ‘yes’ in the first place,” Ava responded snarkily, “but word got out.” She waved the sheaf of Post-Its. “These are all leads. People are dying to come and take your classes.”

Brandon blinked.

Barefoot, he stepped over to the reception desk and snatched the Post-Its from Ava’s hand. She was right.

Names and numbers. Plus questions and comments like ‘interested in MMA’ and ‘wants to take Krav Maga.’

Brandon’s mouth felt dry.

Each one of these Post-It notes represented a potential new customer. All he needed was thirty more to start breaking even on this place; and Ava had managed to deliver half a dozen over the course of an afternoon.

“This is fucking
amazing
,” the burly instructor grinned. He looked up at Ava, and without even thinking about it, grinned and said, “I’m so excited I could
kiss
you.”

And Ava looked him straight in the eye, and without missing a beat responded, “Well, why
don’t you
, then?”

Chapter Twenty Seven

Ava

The door to the storage room slammed open, and Brandon practically threw Ava onto a stack of vinyl mats in the corner.

She landed with a thump, and gasped happily as Brandon pounced on top of her.

They kissed, Ava crushed beneath him into the mats.

“A-are you sure the place is empty?” Ava tore her mouth away from his, and gasped desperately as Brandon squeezed one of her ripe, full breasts through her v-neck.

“The next class isn’t until 4:15,” Brandon snarled, hooking his fingers under Ava’s shirt, and yanking it up until it got snagged around her boobs. “We’re free and clear until then.” As he struggled to pull Ava’s t-shirt off, he added, “I also locked the front door.”

That made Ava feel better. As did the sudden sensation of cool air on her naked torso, as Brandon tossed her t-shirt and bra across the room.

Ava flopped back onto the mats, and the vinyl was ice-cold against her skin.

Brandon was on top of her in a heartbeat, snarling as he kissed her, his fingers squeezing her bare breast.

“Huuungh,” Ava groaned, arching her back.

She was caught between arousal and embarrassment; hugely turned on by this massive, sexy man crushing her beneath him, but also insanely self-conscious of her pendulous boobs, and round stomach.

But if Brandon cared about her popped-out-three-kids body, he didn’t mention it – and as he slid between Ava’s thighs, she felt more validation of how sexy he found her – a thick, throbbing hardness she felt even through the starchy material of his
gi
pants.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous…”

He kissed her frantically, and she surrendered to his powerful lips, reaching up to wrench open his
karategi
jacket and slide her hands inside. His t-shirt was clammy with sweat, and clung to his thick, strong torso.

With another snarl, Brandon hooked his fingers into the waistband of Ava’s yoga pants, and yanked them down – taking with them her panties, too.

“Oh, my God,” Ava cried, as she felt the cold vinyl under her now-bare ass. She giggled, as Brandon reared up and yanked her pants off her completely, sending with them her sneakers, which bounced across the floor into the corner.

Ava was naked now, blushing as Brandon stared down at her womanly curves.

He pulled down his
gi
pants, and a thick, throbbing erection bounced free.

Ava’s eyes widened, and her pussy throbbed.

Kicking off his pants, Brandon struggled to pull his jacket and clammy t-shirt off over his head. A moment later he was naked too, looming over Ava like a big, burly bear.

He had a thick body – more like a powerlifter than a bodybuilder. Lying in his shadow, Ava felt tiny and powerless; and that in itself was enough to make her pussy gush.

And then suddenly Brandon was back on top of her, his sweaty skin hot against hers.

He kissed her. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him back. Her nostrils filled with the scent of him – sweat, and heat, and need. Her pussy throbbed.

Brandon didn’t bother with pretense or foreplay. Wrenching open Ava’s thighs, he slid between them, and she groaned as she felt his hot, hard cock poke insistently at her inner thighs.

Brandon hoisted himself up with one arm, and reached between them with the other; grasping his hard cock. He positioned it between Ava’s legs, at the entrance to her eager cunt.

“Fuuuck,” Ava groaned, as she felt the head of his cock nuzzle between the lips of her pussy.

Brandon looked down at her, deep into Ava’s eyes, and he thrust.

“Fuuuuuuck,” the housewife arched her back and cried out as her pussy eagerly accepted him – inch after inch, stretching and filling her.

Their eye-contact never broke. In fact, Brandon’s lips curled in a sadistic grin as he watched Ava’s eyes widen. She moaned as she felt herself filled by more and more of his thick, throbbing cock, until he was buried right to the hilt inside of her.

“Oh, God,” Ava groaned. “Oh,
fuuuck
.”

And then he began to fuck her.

The vinyl cushions squeaked as Brandon thrust himself hard and deep – forcing Ava’s legs apart more, and himself even deeper inside of her.

“Oh, God,” Ava groaned, clutching Brandon’s shoulders as he thrust himself inside of her.

God, it was
amazing
. He was just the right thickness and length to really fill her up, and from the angle he was thrusting, each movement of his hips ground against Ava’s clitoris.

But it was the sheer wickedness of this situation that really turned her on. Here she was, a married woman, getting fucked on dirty vinyl mats by a sweaty, burly man more than a decade younger than she was.

“Oh, fuuuck,” Ava’s nails dug into Brandon’s broad, muscular back. “Oh, that’s it… Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop…”

And he didn’t. He just kept fucking her harder, and faster, and deeper, until Ava wailed in ecstasy and squeezed shut her eyes.

Like that, bare-assed on the vinyl mats in a dingy storage room, Ava climaxed.

Her nails dug welts into Brandon’s back, and her teeth sunk into his sweaty shoulder, and she shuddered as a wave of pleasure crashed over her. Her whole body shuddered deliciously.

Finally, as the tremors overwhelmed her, Ava flopped lifelessly onto the maps and lay there pliantly as Brandon continued to fuck her, like a raging bull.

“Oh, God,” he breathed, kissing her throat. “I’m close…”

Ava’s eyes shot open.

Amidst the furious intensity of this moment, she’d utterly forgotten the inconvenient details – like how she’d stopped taking birth control pills since Clark had had his vasectomy last summer, and that Brandon was buried balls-deep inside of her
without
a condom.

It had felt
amazing
– the feel of his flesh raw against hers. But as Brandon started to breathe more heavily, and she felt his cock swell and throb inside her, Ava realized that if she didn’t act soon she’d head home tonight with more than a guilty conscience to worry about.

“P-pull out,” Ava breathed deeply, pushing on Brandon’s shoulders. “You’ve got to…”

But Brandon got the message. Rearing up, his throbbing cock sprang from inside Ava and splattered them both with her wetness.

Instinctively, Ava sat up, and reached for his glistening, gleaming cock. She opened her mouth, and engulfed him.

“Oh, fuuuuuck,” Brandon groaned, as he felt the delicious sensation of Ava’s warm, wet mouth on his straining cock.

Ava’s nostrils flared as she breathed in his musky, sweaty man-scent, and tasted her own tangy wetness on his straining cock. But the sensations just inflamed her, and she swirled her tongue and bobbed her head and worshipped Brandon’s cock with her lips and mouth until he groaned hotly, “I’m gonna cum…”

And she just kept sucking… and licking… and slurping…

“Oh, fuuuuck…”

Groaning, Brandon spurted into Ava’s sweetly sucking mouth – and she swallowed eagerly. Hot, salty spurts gushed across her tongue and she eagerly gulped them down, sucking all the while, until Brandon groaned with the intensity of it all.

Only when his balls were completely drained did Ava let up. Utterly limp, Brandon flopped onto the vinyl mats.

He lay there, clammy and naked, staring up at the ceiling.

Ava wiped a dribble of Brandon’s sperm from her chin, and giggled wickedly.

“How’s that for a knockout, champ?”