Bruiser: A Lonely Housewife Embarks on a Passionate Affair with an Alpha Male MMA Fighter (18 page)

Chapter Fifty Seven

Ava

For one moment in their whirlwind affair, Brandon and Ava felt like real lovers.

Stripping from their clothes, the two of them crawled into Brandon’s big, soft bed and snuggled under the covers.

Brandon’s big, pale body was hot, and hard. Ava felt tiny, lying next to him beneath the covers.

“I wish we’d done this sooner,” the big fighter purred, running his fingertips up and down the curve of Ava’s hips. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

Ava blushed, her pulse quickening at Brandon’s gentle touch.

With slender fingers, Ava reached down between them – and found Brandon’s cock hard, and ready, and rearing from his black pubic hair like the Washington Monument.

He groaned as her fingers curled around it, and she stroked his shaft.

“W-wait,” the big man groaned. “There’s something I need to do first.” And, with that, Brandon ducked under the covers, and Ava gasped as she watched him borrowing under the blankets.

Hot hands spread her thighs. She felt his breath between her legs.

“Oh, God,” Ava gasped self-consciously. “Brandon, you don’t need to…”

But it was too late.

Ava groaned, as she felt her lover’s hot, wet mouth on her pussy.

“Fuuuuck…”

Brandon’s thick, rough tongue slithered between the lips of Ava’s pussy, and opened her up like a blossoming flower.

She gasped, and arched her back; powerless to resist the pleasure of Brandon’s warm, wet lips and tongue on her.

“Mmmph,” Brandon grunted, as his tongue swirled around her clitoris. “Mmmmph!” And then his mouth was joined by two thick, calloused fingers; which stretched and filled her almost like a cock.

“Oh, shit,” Ava groaned, as Brandon effortlessly pleasured her.

His lips and tongue were relentless. His fingers writhed inside of her, hitting all the right places. It was monstrously intense; a concerto of erotic sensations that soon had Ava clawing at the sheets.

Utterly helpless to his inexorable licking, and slurping, and sucking, Ava climaxed on Brandon’s tongue.

She shuddered, and squirmed, and flailed on the bed like a fish out of water – so much so that Brandon had to reach up and place his huge hand between her breasts – pushing down to pin her to the bed.

And, trapped, Ava was helpless as he
just kept licking
.

Her first orgasm rolled into a second. A third hit her like a freight train. By the forth, Ava was a drooling, delirious mess, and barely kept her shit together long enough to plead, “E-enough! No more! It’s too much!”

And only then did Brandon stop.

His head rising from beneath the covers – lips and chin glistening – the karate instructor grinned triumphantly.

“Oh, fuck,” Ava groaned, eyes half closed. “Y-you killed me.”

“Not yet I didn’t,” Brandon warned, and rolled Ava limply onto her stomach. His big hands grabbed her hips, and hefted Ava’s round ass into the air.

On her knees, with her face buried in the covers, Ava groaned as she felt Brandon lay his huge, hot body across her back.

He nudged apart Ava’s legs with his knees, and then she felt his hard cock nuzzle between the cheeks of her ass.

“Oh, fuuuuck…”

All it took was her raising her hips a touch, and Brandon’s straining cock found her eager pussy.

Ava was dripping wet, and Brandon sunk inside her effortlessly.

“Fuuuuuck,” she clawed at the covers as he stretched and filled her, like a stallion rutting with a fertile mare.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Brandon groaned, as he sunk inside her, skewering Ava with his hot, hard length.

“Huuuungh,” Ava bit her fist, as Brandon started to thrust into her from behind. Her ass in the air, and her face buried in the pillows, she felt utterly wanton and wild; being
used
by this big, strong, alpha male.

As Brandon’s big cock slid in and out of her, Ava felt herself shudder. She bit into the covers to stop herself screaming, and her body tortured her with another delicious orgasm.

“Fuuuck,” Brandon groaned, as he felt her pussy tighten around him. He placed his hand between Ava’s shoulder blades, and crushed her face even deeper into the covers as he pounded her from behind.

“Y-yesss,” Ava groaned, lifting her ass a little higher, to let Brandon sink even more deeply inside of her.

She was dripping wet, and quivering with pleasure. Her body ached with lust. She was desperate for one more final act to cement their union – and as she felt Brandon’s cock swell and stiffen inside of her, she knew she was about to get it.

“Oh, God,” Brandon groaned, as he thrust inside Ava as deeply as he could. Leaning over her, he groaned hotly in her ear: “I’m cumming…”

And then he flooded her from behind.

Ava accepted it all; her greedy pussy quivering as his emptied himself deep inside her.

Twice in as many hours.

It was exquisite. The sensation of that big cock swelling, and throbbing, and then the warm, wet ecstasy of being filled with his seed.

Ava climaxed again, instantly.

And then, as they both groaned in release, the two of them collapsed onto the covers in a sweaty tangle of arms and legs.

Brandon crushed her, still buried deep inside.

“God, you’re perfection,” he breathed, curling his body around Ava’s back. He kissed her shoulders sleepily. “I could get used to this.”

And with his hardness still buried inside of her, and his heavy arms curled protectively around her, Ava shivered sinfully as she thought exactly the same thing…

Chapter Fifty Eight

Brandon

The following day was a blur.

Ava’s cell-phone chimed at 7am, and she slid stickily from Brandon’s bed to take a shower and check in with Clark and the kids. Sleepily, Brandon watched her go; butterflies churning in his stomach.

An hour later, the door to the suite was flung open, and Rob and Vinnie came blustering in with paperwork, bags of equipment and two huge bottles of Monster Milk.

Vinnie busied himself ordering room service. Rob, on the other hand, sniffed around the hotel room like a suspicious police dog.

By this point Ava was showered, dressed and looking utterly respectable – but from the way Rob was acting, a part of her wondered if he
knew
.

“So here’s the schedule.” Vinnie interrupted her paranoia. “We’ve got interviews at 11. Weigh in, blood test and check-up in the afternoon. More TV spots following that, and the fights themselves start at seven.”

Pulling out a folder, the wiry Italian showed them the schedule. It was pretty packed.

“Seven fights tonight,” he explained. “The headliner is Oates versus Bukov. You’ve probably been reading about that one.”

Brandon took a pause from gulping down his protein shake.

“That’s going to be a wild one,” he grunted. “Travis Oates and Nikolai Bukov train at the same gym – they’re like brothers.” He shrugged. “My money’s still on Bukov, though.”

“I’m looking forward to the Billie George fight,” Rob snorted. That was one of the earlier match-ups. “Now Billie? She’s one woman I wouldn’t mind being choked out by.”

A muscular female MMA fighter, Billie ‘Tomboy’ George was rapidly becoming one of the major draws to these MMA tournaments.

Brandon continued drinking his shake, and drowned out the rest of the banter. As a fanatical MMA fan, he’d normally enjoy dissecting the upcoming fights – but today there was only one he was interested in:

His bout against James MacDonald.

Despite the three weeks of intensive training with Rob, Brandon still felt woefully underprepared – and
everything
was riding on tonight. He’d either go home a hero, or a loser; and what he stood to lose was more important to him than perhaps anything had ever been in his life.

Narrowing his eyes, Brandon drained the shake, and then crushed the empty bottle in his hand. His mouth a grim line, he looked across the room towards Ava.

Beautiful Ava, standing silently and solemnly beside Rob. She looked so beautiful, with her luxurious black hair and warm, brown eyes. Despite making love twice that previous night, his cock throbbed at the memory of her soft, warm body.

Grimly, Brandon wondered what would become of them, now. How would their relationship be, when she went back home to Clark and her kids?

The karate instructor snorted.

Perhaps it wasn’t even the fight that was making him nervous, he admitted. Perhaps he was more scared of the uncertainty that would come when it was all over.

Chapter Fifty Nine

Brandon

“He’s no Hannibal Alexander.”

Charming, handsome James MacDonald was being interviewed on ESPN, and he wasn’t being much of a gentleman about it.

“I’ve got nothing but respect for Brandon Broderick,” the handsome Scotsman continued, winking at the pretty blond with the microphone, “but I almost feel like wheeling him out tonight is more of a gimmick than a
real
fight.”

With his matinee idol good looks and reddish blond hair, MacDonald had always looked too clean-cut to be an MMA fighter – but there was nothing wholesome or respectable about his trash-talking.

“Running a karate school and being an MMA champion are two different things,” MacDonald was wrapping things up. “I’m pleased they’re giving him some exposure. I hope it brings some business to his school. But I’m just looking forward to tonight being over, so I can prepare for my next fight against a
real
champion.”

There was a hushed awe across the crowd.

Brandon, standing at the other end of the interview table, found himself presented with his own microphone, and tried to come up with an appropriate retort.

“James should be
praying
I’m no Hannibal Alexander,” he scoffed. “If you don’t count the scuffle afterwards, I seem to remember Hannibal
kicked his ass
.”

There was a “wooooo” from the crowd, and somebody at the back cried out, in an exaggerated fashion: “Oh no, he
didn’t
!”

“Now listen,” enthused by the reaction, Brandon pulled the mic closer and kept on talking. “I might have been off the circuit for a few years, but I’ve been running a martial arts school. I’ve been practicing forms for ten hours a day, every day of my life for the last twenty years.”

Brandon looked across the room at James MacDonald, and winked at him.

“However good Bulldog thinks he is – he could spend the rest of his life training and still never come
close
to what I know.” He snorted derisively. “And I guess when it’s our time to fight, you’ll all see that.”

There was another hushed ‘woo’ from the crowd, and as the reporter pulled the mic away from Brandon and headed to interview the other fighters, the karate instructor looked across the room and found James MacDonald staring at him warily.

Brandon allowed himself a smile.

Sometimes, you scored your first hit before you even went into the octagon.

Chapter Sixty

Brandon

The Atlantic City stadium was packed, and the crowd roared triumphantly as the fight roster eventually kicked off.

The first two bouts were three rounds each, featuring flyweights and welterweight fighters. Brandon and his friends missed those as they prepared.

They all took time out to watch Billie George take to the octagon. The beautifully toned Canadian fighter was becoming something of a legend in MMA, and Brandon and Rob in particular enjoyed watching her face off against a trash-talking female fighter from Queens; and reduce her to tears in a blistering arm-bar within thirty seconds.

But then Brandon’s fight approached.

In the tunnel leading out, Rob, Brandon, Vinnie and Ava assembled. Rob was helping Brandon pull on his gloves, and Ava rinsed off Brandon’s mouth guard.

“Just remember what I told you,” Rob insisted, as he checked Brandon’s gloves for the third time. “You have the advantage, because MacDonald doesn’t know what’s coming. Go for the take down, execute it perfectly and you might –
might
– be in with a chance.”

Brandon put his mouth guard in, and nodded.

And that’s when the announcer called him out to the octagon.

“Okay,” Rob pounded fists with Brandon. “Get out there and make us proud.”

“Wait!” Ava stepped up. “Shouldn’t we, like, pray first or something?”

The three men looked at her incredulously.

“I’m a lapsed Catholic,” Vinnie answered, “The B-man is Jewish, and your boyfriend here is named after a Norse God.” The wiry Italian shrugged. “I don’t know
who
we’d pray for.”

“Well, let’s pray for the school,” Ava suggested, and held out her hands. Rob, Vinnie and Brandon exchanged glances – and then took them.

Ava closed her eyes and mumbled what she could remember from Catholic school. Then, with a nod, she squeezed Brandon’s hand and sent him on his way.

Brandon stepped, blinking, into the stadium lights and headed towards the octagon.