11. Dominic
11
DOMINIC
T he gym’s locker room is somehow colder than it normally is, and I chalk the harsher temperature up to the late-night climate mixing with the fall season. No matter what, though, I have to push past it. Tearing the shirt from my body, I toss it to the side and embrace the frosty bite of the air.
“You ready for this?” Angelo asks with an unhinged grin.
“I’m ready,” I reply. Bobbing my head and loosening my joints, I do my best to psych myself up. “Put them on.”
Displaying my hands in front of me, Angelo takes them individually and begins covering them with the cotton hand wraps beside him. He fastens the soft material around my wrists, wrapping them over my knuckles and threading them between my fingers.
Once they’re finally secure, I crash my knuckles into each other, rhythmically punching my fists together to make sure they’re properly fastened.
“I’m ready,” I huff.
“Alright then,” Angelo replies. “Let’s get you out there.”
It is time to fight.
The air is thick with the clashing smells of sweat and pure adrenaline, and the odor clings to my skin as I throw out heavy blow after heavy blow. Swinging toward my opponent, I grunt with each attempted punch. Still, none of them seem to be able to land.
My competitor is much smaller than I am, a much shorter and wiry man who, at first sight, I had considered to be an easy match. What he lacks in size and stature, however, he certainly makes up for with speed.
He ducks and dodges beneath each of my strikes, my best hit on him so far being a glancing elbow off of his left shoulder. But he’s not fighting back yet.
Cheers erupt from the intimate crowd, each of them emitting their own harsh barks of encouragement at whichever of us they put their money on winning. The raucous noise makes the small crowd sound like a coliseum of hundreds. Still, I can’t help but smirk, thinking about the cash flow coming from the angry and disappointed betters who picked the wrong dog in this fight.
Valmont’s gym was usually pristine, freshly polished, and well lit in every corner, but tonight, its floors are rough with the shoes of the crowd scuffing the hardwood and the lights are dim with a single ceiling bulb creating a spotlight on the centre ring where I fight, leaving the crowd almost faceless as they’re drenched in shadows.
I refocus my attention onto my opponent. I draw my fists back to my chest, giving myself a moment to catch my breath and wait for him to strike back .
His arm blurs as it slices through the air toward my face, landing firmly against my cheek and knocking my head to the side. The searing pain runs across my entire face, rattling my teeth and making my eyes feel like they’re bulging out of my skull.
I back away from him, keeping my distance for my counterattack. I watch his footwork, the way he bounces from one foot to the next right before he throws a punch.
Using this assessment, I wait for it again, buying my time until he bobs to his dominant foot and letting him lay out another strike. Seeing it coming, I dodge out of the way, freeing myself to drill toward him from close range, cracking my fist hard against his jaw.
His entire body recoils as he stumbles away from me, his cries of pain totally drowned out by the cheers of the crowd around us.
Finally, I’ve landed a blow.
I push forward, moving close into his space and not letting him catch a break. I throw another strike, but he weaves to the side, jabbing into my gut with a punch of his own and knocking the wind out of me .
God, that hurt.
Not even giving me time to recover, he advances again, using his greater speed to throw more hits out in quick succession. A light blow to my chin, a hard drill of pain into my ribs, and finally a glancing blow off my arm. He’s not giving up, so neither can I.
Doing what I can to stand my own ground, I hold up my guard and block another two of his swings.
I’m unsure of what to do next, and the only option I have is to keep holding him back. I swing wildly, no thought or strategy, instead just blind punches in his general direction hoping to clear space between us.
The swell of my pain and exhaustion are about to reach their breaking point, and I can only throw out one or two more punches, praying they’ll land and knock him to the floor.
One wild uppercut sends me straight into his reach, earning me another punch to the temple. My next attempt at a hook has the same luck, passing him quickly and throwing me off my balance. In return, I get a hard hit to my jaw.
The next thing I feel is the cold hardwood as it goes from being underneath my feet to behind my back.
Then everything goes to black.
My eyelids flutter, my surroundings slowly blurring into view. The single light above me is blocked by a black mass of a human figure.
“Angelo?” I mutter, the words barely forming on my lips.
I feel the figure’s hands cradle the back of my head, moving their face close to mine as they inspect my injuries. “No, Dom, it’s me.” The voice sounds familiar, but I can’t place it while in my dizzied state of disarray. “You’re alright. I’ve got you.”
As I start to come around properly, the excruciating pain all over my face comes back to my senses. The burning aches feel unbearable on my skin. I squint to try and see through the low light and focus on the person’s face, but the tensing muscles of my cheeks just makes the pain worse.
“Don’t rush yourself. Take your time,” the voice instructs.
The next thing to come back to me is my spacial awareness. I can feel the presence of the murmuring crowd gathered around us, watching on at my weakened state being nursed by a stranger. I can’t look fragile in front of all of these people.
Forcing my body to sit up, my ribs scream at me to stop, but I don’t. The aiding hands of the person help me to stay upright, allowing my vision to settle back to its normal state and see the figure for who they really are.
In an instant, my sight is overtaken by the soft smile of reassurance beaming from Luca’s lips. His eyes are full of worry for me, and his hands are all over my body.
In front of all of these people.
“Get me out of here,” I groan to him.
“Can you even stand?” He throws my arm over his shoulder, readying himself to bear most of my weight.
“I’ll have to.” I struggle to my feet, falling almost immediately under his control as he guides my body in the right direction.
Stumbling my way into the locker room again, I can feel the harsh difference between the cold air and the warmth of Luca’s hands all over my torso. As gently as he can, Luca lowers me onto one of the wooden benches lining the room, allowing me to finally relax all of the tensed muscles in my body. I collapse onto the seat, my back leaning fully against the cool metal of the lockers, while Luca joins me by my side.
“Are you okay?” Luca asks, holding the side of my face as he checks over my many bruises.
“What do you think?” I groan and shift painfully in my seat to move closer to him.
Luca shows me a dorky smile. “Come here.” He holds me by the neck, ignoring my soft hiss of pain as he passes his fingers across my dark blue blemishes. Pulling my face close to his and getting a good look at my swelling eye, his gentle breath warms the cold ache on my face.
He’s so close to me; he’s as close to me as he was last night. My eyes glance from his eyes to his lips and back again.
Luca notices. “You really have a habit of getting yourself into trouble, don’t you? ”
“I have to give you some reason to come see me,” I joke.
“Well.” He pauses. “I um… I think I have enough reasons already.”
“Is that right?”
He nods, leaning closer to me again, our lips barely apart.
“Is this wrong?” Luca asks me.
“I don’t care.” I grab his waist and pull him against my lips, kissing him passionately. His own hands find their place on either side of my face, embracing me back.
The weight of his lips on mine is incredible. I pull him onto my lap, his legs straddled on either side of me, and feel the twitch of his stiffening bulge against me.
I bury my face into his neck, caressing his skin with my lips while he grinds himself against my dick. I take my hands from him and start unbuttoning his shirt, ripping it off of his shoulders and feeling his skin against mine. Lifting him up completely, I drive him back down onto the bench, climbing on top of him and pinning him down.
“Do it,” he begs.
Reaching down, I undo his belt and zip down his fly, Taking his pants off and scattering them across the floor. Still kissing him, I take off my own shorts, removing the last piece of clothing I have on.
Rolling off of the bench, we both end up tangled together on the cold tiles of the locker room floor. I fall underneath Luca, my exposed shaft resting down between his legs. He pulls me up toward him, kissing me again, feeling his tongue inside of my mouth.
He works his way down my body like I did to him last night, ending his journey with his mouth beside my erect penis. He kisses it softly, making sure I know what he plans next. I close my eyes, waiting for him to start.
Soon, I feel the warm touch of his lips wrapping themselves around the tip of my shaft. He slowly makes his way down the length of my long, hard flesh, gliding down and gagging again, but not stopping until he reaches the base of it. Luca starts licking the bottom of my rod, my cock still deep inside of his mouth.
Throat-deep on my cock, he looks up to me with nothing but pure lust in his eyes, which makes my whole body feel electric. Taking his hand, he grips my length and begins to stroke it up and down in perfect sync with the motions of his mouth.
Not wanting to stop yet, I grab a fistful of his hair in my hand and pull his head away from my crotch. “I want to do more with you,” I growl.
His eyes show his shock at my request, but then his desire takes over. He releases my cock and nods at me.
I smirk at him, taking my grip on him over to the bench we rolled off. I bend him over it and grab him by the hips.
“Are you ready?” I ask him, my words coming out as a snarl.
He nods hesitantly, and I feel his body tremble gently beneath me. I lean forward, lying myself on his back, resting my head behind his. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you,” I whisper to him. Placing soft kisses along his spine.
“Take me,” he calls back to me.
I grab his ass in my hands and spread his cheeks apart gathering spit in my mouth and then spitting it onto his waiting asshole. I use my fingers to make sure it is well coated.
I spit again on my fingers and lube up the end of my cock. It is harder than ever at the thought of ramming into him.
I notice his breathing change and slow as though calming himself ready to take me.
I could warm him up with my fingers, but that isn’t what I want and when I part his cheeks once again, his hole looks so deliciously tempting just as it is, as though it wants my dick and nothing else.
I press my dick at his entrance and hold his hips with my hands as I drive myself into him.
His muscles tense as he feels me enter him. “Fuck.” A harsh groan escapes his lips.
I pull away from him slowly, my cock stroking itself with the grip of his asshole. “Can you take it?” I ask him, my tone softening.
“Keep going.”
Listening to his instruction, I thrust myself deeper inside of him, feeling him tighten around me before he finally relaxes himself and I impale him all the way until my flesh slaps against his.
Perfect.
I love feeling him open up for me.
Gripping his shoulder for support, I begin to increase the rate of my thrusts, feeling his hand holding my own as I do.
He calls for me again, screaming loudly. “Deeper, Dominic. Deeper,” he moans.
Ramming myself inside of him again, I answer his request and fuck him harder and deeper than before. “You like that?” I grunt at him.
“Yes, yes!” he wails. “Fuck me harder, please!”
This feels so wrong but so right at the same time, and I don’t want to stop. I don’t want this to end.
Driving myself back and forth in his tight ass, the immense feeling of pleasure shoots through my body, all starting from my stiffened shaft inside of him. My legs tense as I hold my weight beneath me and push myself closer to him, deeper inside of him.
I feel the ecstasy overwhelm his body as it overflows, and he screams out for me again. “I’m going to cum. Keep going!” he yells.
Hearing his loud cries, I remember again where we are. We have to keep this quiet.
I take my hand from his shoulder and wrap it around his face, sticking my fingers inside his mouth to the hilt, stuffing them down his throat. He wraps his lips around them and sucks on them. Quieting him down, I keep fucking him.
Hissing from the pain, I feel his teeth digging into my fingers as the rest of his body starts to tense and shake. Luca grunts and groans as his cum sprays from his hard dick and splatters on the floor.
I jam my fingers down his throat again, and I pull at his lips with my other hand as I recoil back and thrust harder and harder taking my own pleasure from his body.
“I’m close… I’m-I’m going to—” I stutter before the only thing left I can say is a loud moan.
Knees shaking beneath me, I hold him tight in my hands as I blow a hot load of my semen inside of his tight hole. “Fuck…”
Every muscle in my body finally relaxes as I rest my body on the back of his, feeling the warmth from his body. Our sweat mixes together, and our harsh pants sync as we both start to unwind from the intensity. I pull myself out of him.
The endorphins fade from my veins. No longer numbing the pain from the fight, my body collapses. Landing beside him on the floor, Luca turns himself around again and wraps his arms around me.
This feels so wrong but so right at the same time, and I don’t want to stop. I don’t want this to end.