After my night of passionate submission to Mr. Parker, I returned to class with a bit more zeal than before. I still loved watching him. I still loved the sound of his voice as he ordered us to do every move. But he became more worried that his wife would discover his transgression. And I was unwilling to settle for just half of him. We decided to let it cool off while he figured out exactly what and who he wanted. In the mean time, I still loved my class. It allowed me to work through my aggression towards Andy in a safe environment. The people in my class were funny, supportive, and just an incredible group of people. I don't know if I mentioned this before, but there is just something about watching men politely beat the crap out of each other. It's sexually intense. There were a few men in my class that made it particularly enjoyable.
Mr. Parker was aware of my excitement every time I watched the guys practice. He also knew that I paid particular attention when he demonstrated a technique. He did it often. And every time he punched, chopped, or kicked someone, my desire became almost unbearable. He usually chose one student in particular. Brian was a Purple Belt. I'm not sure what that is suppose to mean in terms of skill. I can only tell you that he amazed me with all that he knew. Something about the way he moved made me always look at whatever he was doing. Being only a yellow belt, he would often teach me certain things as well. Sometimes I couldn't help but forget what he was saying as my eyes focused on him.
Brian was twenty-five. He stood six feet tall and let's just say he is one of the few people that actually looks good in a Gi. His hair was black, short, and seemed to lay in no particular direction. He had a short goatee and a slight mustache. He wore black rimmed glasses that only accentuated his green eyes. He had the most perfect set of lips I've ever seen on a man and I watched them move every time he spoke. His body was slender with muscle definition that I enjoyed seeing after every class when his Gi top came off and his wife-beater was all that separated my eyes from that chest. His ass made me very glad that I was behind him as we did our push-ups. Head to toe, he was exquisite to look at. But to watch him execute his techniques with absolute precision is what made me picture him completely out of that Gi more times than I care to count.
One night, my body led my mind into a dream from which I did not want to wake. I fell asleep thinking of class that night. I pictured the kicks, the punches, the look in Brian's eyes as he does all those things. In my dream, he turned to me and pulled me close to him. With his eyes fixed on mine, he leaned in to kiss me. It was soft and so different from what I would expect from a man capable of the forcefulness I had witnessed of him during class. The feel of his lips, the taste of his tongue seemed so real to me. I was unprepared for the morning sun peering though the blinds. That dream, that simple kiss haunted me all day.
When I attended class that Thursday, I looked for those lips I had been dreaming about. They were not there. We began the exercises at the start of class. And as we moved on to our groups to learn a new technique, my preoccupation became more apparent. I daydream a lot. But when fists are thrown at your face, you kind of need to be all there. So after I missed a block and caught a hit in the jaw, Mr. Parker pulled me aside to talk to me. As he turned to me, Brian walked into class. "Tiffany?" Mr. Parker began. "Is everything okay? You seem a bit off tonight."
"I'm fine." I avoided his eyes. "I just am not quite sure about this technique." Okay, I lied. What was a suppose to say?
"No problem. I'm working with Luke so let me get you someone to help. Brian? Could you work with Tiffany on this?" And that's what I get for lying.
"Sure. No problem." Brian answered slightly turning his head to me. Those eyes, for fucking eyes. It was all I could do to stop looking at him. I stood there between the man I've been with and the man I've been dreaming about. I was in Hell. Mr. Parker left to work with Luke as I stood there looking at Brian. "Okay, now start in a left neutral bow." I did as I tried to look like this was just another instruction to me. "Now, it's a hit to the groin and then grab the leg force them down." I knew this technique but it was difficult to concentrate. "Here, let me show you. Throw the punch." In an instant he blocked, hit, and came in close to me just before he threw me on my back. I have to admit, it was quite exciting and before I knew what I was saying, I managed to betray my own secret.
"Gee Brian, if you want me on my back there are easier ways to do it." And just as the words left my mouth, I realized I had inadvertently hit on him. "Damn, did I say that out loud?"
"Yes you did." He grinned as he answered. "You know, most women would not find getting hit and thrown exciting."
"Yeah, well I'm not most women. You can throw me down anytime. Just make sure you join me." No point in hiding it anymore.
"I don't quite know what to say to that."
"I bet you know what to do though." He stood there for a moment just dumbfounded. And then with a smile, he cocked his head as if he was going over the possibilities in his mind.
Unfortunately, Mr. Parker overheard our conversation. He came over to personally instruct me on the proper way to do the technique. Brian joined the higher belts. We never had a chance to talk the rest of class. But we did continue to glance over at each other.
I had to leave before class ended. I had History the following day very early in the morning. Before I left though, I managed to slip my address and phone number in Brian's bag. I got home just as I knew everyone was beginning to leave the Dojo. My cell rang. I answered it without looking. "Hello."
"Hello Tiffany." It was Mr. Parker.
"Yes Mr. Parker."
