Thanks to
mharper1234,
who wrote the introduction to this story and was the source of ideas for the rest.
Scott sat back in his chair by the window, looking out at his neighbour, Bill's house. He and Bill were best friends, both divorced and in their late 50's. Both were tall and thin and shared a lot of interests. One difference was Bill was much more successful with women. Each week he'd bring a younger lady home and have a full night of sex with her. Scott usually watched from his perch.
Last week was the most interesting of all, a tall, blonde aerobics instructor from the local YMCA. Scott had marvelled at how she had rode on top of Bill for 34 minutes (he timed it), without much effort. Bill had been moaning and screaming through the open window.
Scott got a bit jealous with that one, but also cheered on his friend.
It was getting late that Saturday and Bill finally pulled into his garage. Scott got excited for the weekly 'show'. He saw lights go on in the house. Bill had stripped to his boxers, his moderate manhood creating a small tent.
He seemed to be creating some space in his bedroom, furniture against the wall and he piled up some items at the foot of his bed.
Scott waited as he heard a woman's voice faintly as she came out of the bathroom.
He watched as a short, dark haired woman came into view. She had her hair tied back tightly. She wore a robe, no wait, it was a martial arts uniform, a blackbelt tied around her waist.
"This is new" Scott muttered to himself, taking a drink of beer.
As he watched, Bill approached the young woman and exchanged a few words with her, before turning and going to his bedroom.
The young woman remained alone, and began a complex series of stretching exercises, which demonstrated a remarkable flexibility. If the aerobics instructor had managed to perform the splits horizontally, this woman could manage that feat vertically. Scott pondered the possibilities.
As his imagination took him to deeper and darker places, Bill returned. He too was wearing a martial arts outfit. Scott's penis began to wilt. Apparently, Bill had exchanged his usual evening of athletic sex for a personal martial arts lesson. Safety is important these days -- but more important than sex? Surely not.
At that moment, Bill's doorbell rang -- just audible from Scott's distant location. The young girl disappeared from view. Strange that she was answering Bill's door, thought Scott, until she returned with another young woman -- this time slightly taller, with short blonde hair, also wearing her martial arts kit.
The blonde girl was introduced to Bill, who shook her hand politely. This was getting worse by the second, thought Scott. Perhaps this would be the first week in ages when he would have to rely on internet porn instead of the real thing. Or maybe tomorrow would be better. Still, the women were young and attractive -- watching them stretch and flex was sexy in itself.
Scott gazed across the divide as Bill and the newcomer carried out a sequence of stretches, warming up for the main lesson. It seemed the blonde woman was almost as flexible as the original girl, as her warm-up made Bill look positively rigid. In truth, Bill was quite fit and reasonably athletic. He jogged and did a light workout at the gym. He played badminton and tennis. Scott idly reflected on the fact that he, too enjoyed exercise -- not as much as Bill, but sufficient to keep him in shape. The one exercise he really missed was sex, and it seemed unfair that Bill was destined to get his share of pussy. Still, his right arm was like a rod of iron.
Following the warm up, the brunette led a series of martial arts activities -- blocks, punches, kicks and parries. Occasional words drifted through the space between their worlds -- "bridging ... shrimping ... forward rolls ... Kimura lock ... scissor sweep ..." All Scott heard was "breasting ... skimpy ... fuck my holes ... kiss my cock ... scissor sisters." He had been ready to get so horny. Still. There was something vaguely erotic about the movements. A sensual grace and the promise of such control in positions which many would find impossible. He was intrigued -- jerking off to online porn could wait -- for now.
It seemed practice was over and new skills had been taught for now, as the three of them stopped for a drink -- presumably water.
The next phase, if Scott's understanding of the teaching and learning process was correct, would be practical application of new skills. He had no idea if he was correct, but watched as Bill and the pretty, short-haired blonde knelt facing one-another. He caught a few words of instruction:
"Grapple ... loser faces me ... each time, loser grapples whoever's sitting out."
Scott was slightly in awe. How could Bill possibly grapple, up close and personal, with these gorgeous women without getting an erection? And if he did, what would their reaction be? Would they walk out? Pretend to ignore it? Tease him? Be offended and call him a pervert? Or ... might they actually like it? Perhaps this could get interesting after all.
On the brunette's command, the combatants engaged. They wrestled, Bill showing more skill than Scott had expected (although maybe the woman was less skilled than he had assumed) until, suddenly, Bill emerged holding her belt, smiling. Clearly, this represented a victory, as the two women now faced one another.
Once again, they grappled, but this time, the dark-haired instructor was clearly on top. She pulled off her opponents jacket -- a fairly easy task, as it was flapping loosely around her. Scott started to think. Was this how the training worked? Or was this some strange stripping game? In some ways, as it was a warm evening, perhaps losing some of the thicker outer clothing made sense.
