“I'm not sure what it is,” Dan said. “I know that lately I have been struggling with my own insecurities a lot. As a fighter, I mean. I guess I've just had to face that I'm not all that, like I thought I was. And I'm also dealing with thinking that I was 'all that' to begin with. So it's kind of like a cycle that keeps repeating. But I do have to say that I've been putting myself into this to the utmost. There hasn't been a time when I wasn't trying, or when I was just 'phoning it in,' as you put it.”
Sam shifted in her seat, leaning forward and glaring at him.
“You're actually trying to tell me that there wasn't a time, not a single time, that you weren't giving it your all today? Did you not feel it when I tapped you on the head? Hey, I know that I'm not yelling at you out there, but that doesn't mean that I don't want to most of the time. I just don't think it's productive to yell at the person I'm trying to teach because they aren't picking up what I'm laying down.”
Dan started to say something, but then stopped himself. He didn't want to get in some fight about all of this while he was tired and not thinking straight. He wanted to go home and think on it and then maybe talk about it the next day.
“Let me think about it,” Dan said. “I know that might sound like a cop out, but I want you to know that I really am trying to become a better fighter.”
Sam leaned back in her seat and looked at the ceiling. As if for the first time, Dan noticed how beautiful she looked when she was angry. It wasn't cuteness either, like some guys liked to tell their girlfriends when they'd get mad at them. It was a real beauty that sprung from her poise, and how she seemed to vibrate with energy while still remaining in control of herself.
“Fine,” Sam said. “We can just forget about it. Or talk about it tomorrow or whatever. But what would really help things out was if you came here to be here and train, and didn't worry so much about whatever doubts you carry around with you. I realize that you're trying to break through stagnation in your fighting ability, and that means you've realized at some point that you've failed to continue to grow. I can respect that, but what I can't is someone acting scared of spirit while they punch a bag or run through a drill.”
Dan nodded. He didn't want to escalate things any further. It also wasn't his place to tell his trainer that she was wrong in her estimation of how he'd done that day. He knew if he tried to do that she would just blow up on him since it seemed like she already wanted to do that anyway.
Dan stood, and looked around the room as if he'd set his keys down somewhere and was trying to find them. People told him that he looked that way whenever he was really trying to search for the right words. But Dan didn't find them, so he just turned and left without saying anything else. He wondered, as he drove home, if Sam was trying to get him to quit—testing his resolve to see if he was really in it to win it, or if he was just having the fighter version of a midlife crisis.
When he got back to his place the sun was already going down. Dan hated how the winter stole so many hours of daylight. Not that he needed it to work, like some people, but just because he took solace in a shining sun. It always uplifted his spirit to feel the sun on his face. But in the winter that just wasn't the way things went. As Dan got out of his car and headed into his apartment complex, a chill wind cut through his gym clothes and he realized that he'd forgotten to change before leaving the gym.
Dan hated when he got shook up like this. Maybe that's why he'd avoided going to a trainer for all these years. He cursed WW for making him realize that he wasn't good enough to make it on his own, not if he wanted to be a real contender and not just some guy who paid the rent by legally beating people up. As he sat behind his computer and re-watched WW fight a few of his most recent matches, he was sure to tune in to his footwork, and to pay special attention to all the small feints and other tactics to throw off WW's opponent.
As much as Dan just wanted to get drunk and not think about any of it he knew that wasn't going to be the reality of the situation for him because he was a real fighter, a real competitor, and that meant that he was going to do what he needed to do to beat anyone in his way—even if that “anyone” was as big and bad as WW.
Before going to sleep that night, Dan checked his phone to see if Sam had shot him any messages, but found it void of any messages from her, or any other human contact.
As Dan drifted off to sleep he thought about how much he had sacrificed to MMA already, and how much further he was ready to go. He was willing to get in a ring with WW even though that meant he might die, and he was willing to train with someone who was hard on him even if it caused him some existential discomfort. But at some point he really would have to tally it all up and see what had worked out for him and what hadn't worked out for him; what investments had brought a return, and which of them had gone bust. He just hoped that he wouldn't fail himself before his career was really over, and that his body wouldn't fail him during and after his career when it was normal for fighters to start to show their wear and tear.
It was a lot to hope for, he realized as he set his alarm. It was a lot for him to think about and maybe at the end of the day he really just needed to cut the shit and be a little more open to being present in the moment. Not just there throwing punches, but there and aware in a way that he hadn't been the last few days. There were no more excuses. Tomorrow would be day three, and by that time any decent fighter should be at least rolling steadily along with whoever is training them.
But what if he wasn't a decent fighter? What if, like Sam had said, he was just another school yard brawler that got lucky until he didn't? Would WW be the fight where instead of getting lucky he met his match and maybe even his maker?
As he drifted off to sleep, all of these thoughts seemed to drift away from him as well, until Dan felt like he was suspended over a vast pit of nothingness, sleeping. Then, after the dream dissolved, there was nothing.
Over the next few months Dan really did apply himself in a way that he had never done before. He was present for every punch, and didn't flinch when sweat stung his eyes. He didn't even complain when Sam landed a slap with the pad because the fluorescent lights’ quick staccato flashing had confused his vision. Each week was a battle with himself, and each week he had to really gut check himself and see whether or not he really wanted to be an excellent fighter. It wasn't something he had done since the start of his career, before he had gotten some traction and felt the benefit of being what people referred to as a charismatic fighter.
That was something else he had to deal with—the public's perception of him. WW had a good PR team that was always busy putting out either some crazy story about WW, or trying to circulate doubts about Dan. It was almost enough that Dan was impressed, but one night it really got to him.
He was up late, watching more footage. He'd gone on an MMA forum at the behest of a friend to read a thread about the upcoming match. Usually Dan kept well away from forums before a fight because of how many people were willing to go on the internet and completely talk out of their ass, as if they had nothing better to do; but this time was different because his friend had told him that WW himself was posting, had posted a few pictures to prove his identity, and the shit he was saying was ruthless.
When Dan got to WW's comments he got so angry he could almost feel his blood boil. Who did this guy think he was, anyway? Or was it even WW? It very well could be some shill that his PR team was paying to throw a bunch of bullshit around the internet and see if they could scare up any comment from Dan himself. Dan had recently gone on record saying that he didn't have anything even remotely close to a PR team, and now regretted it.
Before he gave himself a chance to do anything stupid, Dan shot Sam a text and asked her what she thought.
That's a hard one, because I know I'd be mad as well, she replied.
They talked about it via text as Dan read more and more stupid posts from someone claiming to be WW, but could have been anyone with a few photos. Sam kept trying to reason with him but Dan
kept getting angrier, until finally Sam said she was coming over to hang out with him for a minute.
Dan wasn't sure what to think about that at all, so he didn't say anything in response. Within the hour Sam was at his door.
“What you need to realize is the only reason they would pull a stunt like this is to try and exhaust every avenue of fucking with you before a fight—because they are scared.”
Sam sat across from Dan at his small table. They were in the “dining area” of Dan's sparsely decorated and barely furnished apartment. Dan wondered what it looked like to Sam. He didn't really have that many friends, and he definitely didn't have girlfriends, so he didn't invest much time or energy into his place. If he was around it more then maybe it would be a priority, but at present Dan invested way too much of his time into what people referred to as the “MMA lifestyle” to be in tune with much else.
Sam looked good sitting there, Dan had to admit to himself. She kept talking about how WW's low brow tactics weren't going to win him the match, and how pathetic it was that he was even willing to stoop that low. And although she kept sort of noticing Dan check her out—her awareness telegraphed through shifts of posture and other body language—she didn't ask him to stop, and she didn't leave. During one pause in the conversation where it was so apparent, Dan blushed and she got up to fill her glass with water, being sure to put her nice ass up in the air as she leaned over the sink and gulped it down. Dan's eyes couldn't get enough.
“You know, Sam,” he said. “I've been thinking about our relationship, you know, with you as my trainer and me as your trainee. And I was thinking about, well, maybe . . .”
Sam turned to face him, a big smile creasing her face. She knew exactly what he was getting at, but took great and obvious pleasure at how nervous Dan was acting.
“Go on Dan,” she said. “I think you were trying to tell me that you like me.”
Dan's mouth hung ajar, and he wondered how much more he could underestimate Sam. Probably a lot more, if he didn't remember, and quickly, that she was still a woman. And not only was she a woman, but she was a strong woman, someone that wouldn't let the world tell her that she shouldn't run a gym because of her gender, and someone who wasn't afraid to take on one of the best emerging MMA fighters as her own before the fight of his life.
“I guess that's what I'm trying to tell you,” Dan said. “Although I think I was trying to avoid sounding like a goober.”
“And that was your first mistake,” Sam said with a chuckle as she crossed her arms and leaned back against the sink.
Dan noticed, as if for the first time, how nice Sam's small breasts were, and how great they looked in the tank top she was wearing. Now that Dan looked at her outfit in the greater context of how frank this discussion had just become, he realized that some of her clothing choices had been very deliberate. She hadn't just thrown on a tank top and forgotten to wear a training bra like she usually did; she had chosen not to wear a sports bra with a tank top that made her look great. Also, he realized that she'd specially chosen what looked to be a very comfortable pair of sweats to wear. They weren't gym sweats, as people that trained often wore outside of the gym like some kind of uniform. The sweats didn't have any stains or rips; but they did make her tight ass muscles look amazing, and showed off how being lithe didn't necessarily mean that Sam wasn't still bodacious in her own way.
“You like what you see?” Sam asked in a taunting tone. “Are you going to be afraid to come and get it?”
Dan got up and took Sam into her arms tenderly, but firmly. He lifted up her chin with a finger and kissed her. Her lips parted slightly and she pressed her mouth softly to his. They held the kiss for a long time—much longer than Dan was ready for. When the kiss finally broke they found each other breathless, as if they'd both just done a sprint. And it was also like something that had been between both of them dissolved and now there was nothing to restrain them at all.
They pulled each other's clothes off as they stumbled toward the bedroom, each one trying to feel as much of the other as they could, as quickly as they could. Dan loved it when sex was like this—passionate and without hesitation, and also urgent. It was like neither of them realized that they could take their time, that if they wanted they could stop and wait a few minutes. When they got to the bed they were both naked.
Sam looked like a model, so toned and fit that it made Dan a little bit insecure about his own bit of pudge around the midsection, but she didn't seem to mind that at all. In fact, she ran her hands around his abs, just coming through, before she kissed her way down to his throbbing member and took him into her mouth. Dan was in heaven as Sam gave him the best blow job of his life. It was as if he'd never really gotten a great one to know what it could be like, although some of the girls that Dan had been with had had reputations that told of their oral prowess.
Dan ran his hands gently over her hair, and down her shoulders to her back. Looking down at her, and playing with her breasts, Dan couldn't believe how turned on he was. He also couldn't believe how certain he was that this wasn't a bad idea. Even though it might complicate things a little bit, he had faith that both of them would be able to stay professional and not let this affect them in the future.
“Hey, baby,” Dan said softly. “Why don't you get on top?”
Sam smiled up at him before crawling on top of him as he lay back on his bed. She definitely knew what she was doing, and it was so insane how hot she was on top of him, riding him. They had spent so much time around each other that it wasn’t weird or anything that they were naked together, not like it was sometimes when Dan would have sex with someone for the first time. He loved how she leaned forward and put her straightened arms on his chest so she could work herself up and down his throbbing erection more quickly. Dan was somewhat surprised at how worked up she was, but it did kind of make sense considering how long they had known each other, and how much time they had spent together. They'd never once even hinted that this might be a possibility before, so he was glad it was all working out this way. And as he reached up to play with her breasts and tweak her nipples, he loved how she let out a low moan and started riding him even faster.
“Oh, Dan,” Sam said. “You feel so fucking good inside of me. Fuck, baby, you feel so hard. I love how your cock is like a railroad spike right now.”
Dan arched his back so that Sam could really bear down on him. The look in her eyes had him wondering if he would be able to keep up with her, or if maybe he'd bit off more than he could chew at this point. Maybe that was the case, but he wasn't scared to find out.
“You look so fucking good right now,” Dan said breathlessly. “I can't believe you're riding me. I just never thought this was going to happen, you know?”
Sam let out another moan.
“To be honest I did have some idea that this was going to happen,” she said. “I mean, you're a hot guy. I'm a hot girl. We spend a lot of time together. It kind of makes sense that this happened. Don't you think?”
Dan didn't answer. He was trying to think of something else while Sam was on top of him. He thought about baseball instead of feeling her ass, but that only worked for so long. He tried to think of ways that he could prolong the inevitable, and the only thing that really came to mind was switching positions.
“I need to, uh…” Dan said. “We should switch positions.”
For a second Sam looked like she was going to playfully give him a hard time, but then she didn't say anything and instead jumped off and got on all fours. Dan maneuvered himself behind her and slowly slipped himself in. He started thrusting slowly at first, but quickly worked up a rhythm that he knew would lead him to orgasm fairly quickly.
“Sam, fuck,” Dan said. “I'm not going to last much longer. Holy shit, I don't know if I'm going to be able to . . .”
“Just a little longer,” Sam said. “Just a little bit--”
Dan felt Sam's body stiffen on top of him as an orgasm rocked her; and not just an ordinary orgasm
, but the pent up sexual tension of many weeks released. She moaned and swore, bucking up and down on his dick. It was some of the best sex Dan had ever had, and just when she finished coming, his own rapture of ecstasy started.
“Holy shit,” he gasped as he felt himself tighten and then release his seed into her. “Oh my fucking God you feel so good!”
Afterward they both lay on his bed kissing and cuddling. It was a sweet moment they shared between each other, and Dan was happy that it had gone down the way it did. He did wonder, though, if there wouldn't be some kind of unforeseen consequences that he hadn't thought of. Not that he doubted that Sam would be able to be professional about everything, it was just that he didn't want to fuck anything up between them.
As they drifted off to sleep in each other's arms he thought about how lucky he was to have Sam around. It was strange that he almost thought of her as a kind of mentor beyond just being a trainer. While they drifted off to sleep the snow started to come down outside, and the streetlights lit up the flakes with a yellow haze. Somewhere, someone in the building started to play Jazz music on a saxophone, and Dan realized that it was the kind of night where everyone’s vibrations were humming together; one of those rare instances in life where everything seemed to be coming together instead of falling apart.
Chapter 4
In the coming months before the fight, the added intimacy of them having slept together only added fuel to the fire when it came to their training. Now it was as if Sam pushed him to his limit and kept him there even longer than before; she was invested now beyond just professionalism and it showed in everything she did for Dan, and in every drill she ran with him.
Dan, for his part, also remained completely and totally professional, and as the time for the fight neared he knew that he was as ready as he'd ever be. While WW's PR team was busy on the internet, Dan was busy memorizing WW's movements on tape. He felt like he had fought him already sometimes, as if the match of the future, the real match, was just a dream and the actual conflict had already been resolved.
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