I woke up in the morning feeling more than a little hung over. Blearily, I pulled up the notifications on my phone.
First, Vivian had texted me.
Vivian: I had fun, but we could've had
more
fun if you had lasted longer, don't you think? Hit me up if you want to find out if that happens every time with us. I know I do ;)
I blushed. No punches pulled there.
I also had a text from Lauren.
That gave me pause....
I hadn't given her my number, had I?
I mentally played back Friday evening: I had cum quickly, viewed her phone, she had put her number in my phone...I had left.
I had never texted her.
So how had she texted me?
...And her name was in my phone as Lauren, with a lipstick-kiss emoji on either side. That definitely
wasn't
how I remembered her having entered it. Would Vivian have edited it? But that didn't make sense, either...
Lauren: Hey -- I don't know if you were embarrassed, or just had a bad time or what...but I had fun and I'd really like to see you again. Call me or text.
I hesitated, and then decided I wasn't responding to either. Not right away.
I needed to blow off some steam. Get my head screwed on straight. Fortunately, Sundays were always a good day for that. I did my best to shake off the hangover, shower, and get out the door.
---
An hour later I was at the gym on campus, in the jiu jitsu class I regularly attended.
"C'mon, Matt, you guys have like forty seconds left before we swap over to open mat. Make something happen," my coach called.
I had been being careful, and I was sure my coach knew it. I was sparring with Mark, who had about sixty pounds and six inches of height on me. But I sprang into action, trying for an underhook. I didn't have much hope to actually get it, but as Mark defended, fighting to keep me from slipping my hand past his, he went off balance. I tripped him. He went down, and I got on his back, locking the choke in quickly. He tapped out a few seconds later.
Mark shook his head ruefully. "Damn, dude."
I grinned at him. "Hey, don't sweat it. You're making progress quickly. You'll be crushing me in no time."
It was only a little exaggeration. Mark had only started taking jiu jitsu a few months ago, and he was a white belt; I was a purple belt. I had been training for six
years
. He was a lot bigger than me, and if we were evenly skilled, he'd win almost every time...but he had a long ways to go yet.
He just laughed and fistbumped me. We liked sparring each other. Like me, Mark didn't get butthurt when he was beaten, didn't go crazy during rolls.
"Okay, guys, open mat time," the coach called. "Roll against whoever you like. Except you, Matt -- come over here, you'll be a good partner for Diana since she's new."
I nodded agreeably, and walked over to the coach and the young woman standing next to him. He had introduced Diana briefly at the start of session; she had just moved to town, was considering joining the gym, was just going to watch the lesson today, might participate in open mat time.
I wasn't surprised by this. I had been going to this gym since I started as freshman, and I was the coach's go-to guy for sparring with new people. Lots of guys had a bunch of ego attached, went kind of spazzy making sure newcomers didn't tap them out.
I didn't care if I got tapped. You tapped when you were beaten, and tried to do better next time.
The coach knew that. He liked having me spar with newcomers because he knew I was a good sport, wasn't likely to hurt anybody or give them a shitty experience. I was a good first roll if he wanted them to sign up for a membership, and he knew it.
I
liked it because I got to meet new people, and got to be the first person in the gym to see a bunch of new techniques.
Diana was a few inches shorter than me. Maybe a little older than me; in her mid 20s. Short black hair in a pixie cut. She had a bunch of piercings -- her nose was pierced twice, and a cluster of piercings ran up one ear. A few tattoos were visible, peeking out from her sleeves and collar.
Brown eyes gave me a quick up-down -- which I couldn't blame her for, I was doing the same thing, sizing up my sparring partner. Her gi -- jacket and pants -- was loosely fitted, but she was obviously in good shape. A scant black sports bra under her white gi created just a hint of appealing cleavage. She had the thicker thighs and full, rounded ass of a girl who didn't skip leg day.
She was wearing a blue belt.
Less skilled than me.
But the whole picture added up to a jiu jitsu enthusiast: a gym girl, a bit of a counterculture vibe about her with all the piercings and tattoos, the short hair. She'd probably be pretty good, for a blue belt.
Not that it mattered; I had rolled with visiting black belts and visiting white belts and everything in between. Plenty of blue belts. I didn't mind.
Diana gave me a little half-smile. "Hi. Sorry about the piercings; normally I take them out for rolls. I wasn't sure I'd actually roll today." I saw the glint of a tongue piercing too, as she spoke.
I nodded and shrugged. "Nice to meet you. No worries on the piercings; just let me know if we get into a position where they're abrading you or uncomfortable or something."
The coach nodded at me. "I'll leave you two to it. Diana, the gym rule for open mat is that you don't go any harder than 80 percent effort. Okay?
Eighty percent effort max
, even if you're both having fun. Save the all-out shit for tournaments. And we tap out early here -- you don't have to prove how hardcore you are." She nodded.
The coach nodded at both of us, clapped me on the shoulder, and confident he was leaving her in good hands, moved to the other side of the room to correct two of the newer white belts whose jiu jitsu appeared to be rapidly devolving into just punching each other.
"That was a nice trick earlier, going for that underhook there to bait him, especially given how much bigger he is than you," Diana commented as we moved to a corner of the room to start sparring.
"Thanks." I wasn't much of a talker during rolls, and as we squared up with one another and started to circle, I lapsed into silence.
She, on the other hand, seemed to be a talker. "Are there many girls who train jiu jitsu here?" She asked. She feinted in -- surprisingly quickly -- but then backed up again.
"Uh--no--only a few..." as I answered, a little absent-mindedly, I moved in closer, grabbing one of her lapels, setting up for a throw, hoping it'd end the conversational back-and-forth.
Diana reacted smoothly, grabbing my own lapels and shifting her weight forward, into me, a textbook counter. It moved us close together as we scrabbled, circling, trying to see who'd make a mistake.
"Are any of them good?" she asked the question right against my neck. Her voice was low; she was focused on the roll, probably, but it had the effect of feeling intimate. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up at the feeling of her warm breath along my skin.
And that split-second of distraction had me flat on my ass, and her on top of me. She executed the half-trip, half-throw almost perfectly. I didn't fall hard -- she was following the 80% effort rule; I managed to get my legs wrapped around her, keeping her in my guard.
"We don't have to talk if it's distracting you, I'm just curious," she said. There was amusement in her voice. We were fighting for hand and arm position now; she was doing a good job threatening armlocks while working my arms up, pushing towards a choke.
"N-no, it's fine. They're blue and white belts mostly, but some of them are promising, yeah," I muttered. I was having to work harder than I expected to keep her from cinching up an armlock or choke. But closed guard was one of my stronger positions. I bucked my hips and twisted, putting her off balance and forcing her to play more conservatively.
She made a little sound of surprise as I thrust my hips up, and she almost toppled from atop me. She recovered, though, and positioned her weight lower, pinning herself against me, her torso against mine, her chin tucked against my neck to keep me from getting an arm wrapped around her neck.