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, 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.
