Dog Days (BWWM/Interracial MMA Erotic Romance Urban Novella)

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Dog Days (BWWM/Interracial MMA Erotic Romance Urban Novella) Page 3

by Diana D. Jackson


  Patient as I was ravenous, the MMA fighter groped my breasts. His fingers skillfully teased my nipples. He brought his lips from my mouth to plant soft kisses on my breasts. The man knew how to treat a lady.

  Brendan continued to pump into me. He had much grace and form in his lovemaking as he did in during a fight. I couldn’t help but tease him about his sexual prowess. “Oh… that’s a good boy… AH!”

  I repositioned our bodies so that I was top of him. I allowed the fighter to relax as I rode him to an orgasm. I would lean forward to give him a passionate kiss. Brendan brought a hand down to tease my clit. “Agnes… God… you’re amazing.”

  It was a good thing the hotel rooms were largely soundproof. I was making enough noise to make it seem that we were hosting an orgy in here. Likewise, Brendan’s visceral grunts gave the illusion that he was sparring inside the suite.

  “I love you, Brendan,” I panted, drowning in a sea of sensuality. “This feels so good…”

  The man reached out to squeeze my nipples. My breasts felt so perky and my nipples felt unbearably rigid. You wouldn’t suspect that there a heatwave going on outside.

  Finally, my lover worked to bring our sexual encounter to an end. He brought me onto my back and spread my legs. Then, he thrust into me with all of his might. It was so powerful that the bed shook violently. His cock brought me to the precipice of bliss and then we went beyond it.

  I moved up and down in tandem with his motions. I gripped his shoulders and pulled us closer together. I could sense the climax churning in his body. I wasn’t far behind him.

  Our moans mingled as our mutual orgasm erupted. We collapsed onto the bed and snuggled for quite a while. We needed the rest.

  That night, Brendan and I didn’t bother sleeping in separate beds. We had a repeat of our earlier fun. Nevertheless, we were here on business. I just had to make sure Romeo wouldn’t bother us for the night.

  “Get some rest, Brendan,” I said to the weary man. He cradled me in his arms and brushed his lips against mine. “You still have a competition to win. These dog days of yours… they’re coming to an end.”

  A couple of weeks later, it was time for the competition. Brendan, unfortunately, couldn’t spend as much time with me. His training hadn’t change but he had to attend more press events for his debut. It didn’t stop him from spending the night with me during the few times we were together.

  However, I accompanied him to the official weigh-in before the event. In between taking care of Romeo, I made sure the fighter looked his best for the upcoming fight. Win or lose, the man was going to become famous.

  Hopefully, he would win.

  It was painful being away from him for even a few hours. Romeo wasn’t as good company as The Bulldog himself. Brendan missed me as well because he would always ask me about my day when we were reunited.

  We had decided to choose his MMA trunks together. He had a few custom pieces to choose from. Brendan usually wasn’t as picky about what colors he wore to the Octagon. However, this was his debut and he wanted my opinion.

  “I think the green and black one look better,” I suggested, looking on the selection laid out on the bed. “They really bring out your eyes.”

  He nodded. “My opponent will be wearing red and white. I think that will be a good contrast against Diego’s trunks.”

  His opponent was Diego Marquez. The Spaniard had just recently entered the UFC a few months ago. The man was more known for talking smack than for his skills. Nevertheless, Brendan spoke respectfully of him and took him seriously as a contender. While Brendan was skilled fighter in his own right, people believed Diego held the advantage since he had more experience in the big leagues. The man was just as tall and big as Brendan but lacked his agility.

  “Then I guess it’s settled,” I said, staring at his hair. I placed a hand on his neck and twirled a tuft of hair around a finger. “You sure you don’t want some maintenance work on your hair?”

  His eyes flashed with desire. “That can wait. I need you tonight.”

  I reciprocated his look. “Happy to be of service.”

  It didn’t take us long to take the trunks off the bed and replace them with our bodies. Our lovemaking had this frantic energy as if were trying to make each second count. During the nights before this, the sex we had was slow and more relaxed without losing its intensity. This time, I shrieked and moaned like a banshee. Brendan took me from one orgasm to the next until I lied exhausted underneath him.

  I whispered in between breaths. “Do you treat all your opponents like this?”

  “Just the ones I like,” he said, planting a kiss on my lips. “Whatever happens at the fight… win or lose… I’m glad to have had you by my side.”

  I kissed him back. His face had some stubble but I didn’t mind. In fact, it made him look a bit more handsome. I then kissed him down the length of his body. “Well, I’d like my man to win.”

  “I’ll do my best,” he said, bringing a hand to my wet pussy. I moaned when he touched my clit. “It’s you I care about. Not the fight. I won’t make the same mistakes I made with Lisa. I treasure the time I’ve spent with you.”

  “Thank you, Brendan,” I whispered. “That means a lot to me.”

  Reinvigorated by our words, we pressed against each other with rhythmic movements. He picked me up and brought me to his lap. The man practically impaled me on his erection. I took him with a moan and locked my arms around his back.

  We kissed as I rode him. I lacked the man’s monstrous stamina but I made it up in enthusiasm. Brendan held onto my legs as I came. I placed a hand on his chest to steady myself. I had gotten dizzy from my passionate riding.

  Brendan grinned at me. “Let’s not get too wild, Agnes. I got a match coming up soon.”

  We got ourselves cleaned up in the shower. I should mention we showered separately. We found that showering together wasn’t productive in terms of cleaning ourselves up. We just ended up having sex again.

  It gave me time to feed Romeo. The bulldog had grown a bit rotund over the past few weeks. He had much flab as his owner had muscle. I needed to watch his diet.

  When I got out of the shower, I saw Brendan approach me with something in his hand. It was a small velvet box that probably held jewelry. I didn’t know what I’d do if it was an engagement ring.

  “These earrings were meant for Lisa,” he said, revealing a pair of gorgeous earrings. They were emerald stones fitted in white gold earrings. The precious stones shone as bright as Brendan’s eyes. I sighed knowing that the man was not proposing to me. “I couldn’t give it to her before she passed. I want you to have them.”

  “I can’t-“

  “Yes, you can,” he said, looking me straight in the eye. “They’re better off with you rather than collecting dust in my suitcase. It’s a small payment.”

  “A payment?”

  “You’ve helped me so much during our time together, Agnes. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you. I guess these earrings are a good start.”

  “I’ll treasure them,” I said, taking the jewelry from him. “I’ll wear them during your fight. You know, for good luck.”

  The fighter simply kissed me.

  The match happened during the following night. The heat wave was coming to an end but it was still quite hot. Brendan had been able to get me ring side tickets. Normally they were difficult to acquire and would give its owner a good view of the Octagon and the fight within it. I wore a simple green dress that I got during a sale from a few months ago. I knew there would be celebrities attending who would have dolled themselves up. However, I didn’t want to draw unneeded attention to myself.

  We left Romeo with one of Brendan’s sparring partners. I left him with some toys and treats to keep him occupied. Hopefully, he didn’t cause too much trouble while we were away.

  I arrived with Brendan and his entourage to the venue. It would take place in an arena that normally held concerts by pop artists. In spite of being a mere debut mat
ch for Brendan, it had attracted a great deal of media attention. It had already set a record for gate receipts at this particular venue.

  Unfortunately, Brendan and I would have to go our separate ways once we reached the place. I didn’t have authorization to be with his crew. I would still be close when the actual fight occurred.

  “Good luck,” I wished him. “Knock that loud mouth on his ass.”

  He smiled and headed off with his crew.

  I headed to the entrance and flashed my ticket. Thankfully, I was getting the VIP treatment. I got to sit on heated chairs with food service that was just a call away. I could have a decadent triple fudge cake while watching Brendan pound away at his opponent.

  A girl could get used to this.

  Half an hour later, Brendan and his opponent, Diego, showed up in considerable style. Brendan was reserved with same killer focus I had seen during his training session. Diego, on the other hand, was a crowd pleasure who bathed in attention he received from the camera men.

  The Bulldog was an underdog if betting odds were any indication. I probably should have bet a small fortune on Brendan pulling out a spectacular victory. Soon, the announcer introduced the two men.

  I clapped politely when he introduced Diego.

  I cheered like a madwoman when he introduced Brendan.

  I looked over to the people sitting next to me. They looked to be either celebrities or Diego’s family members. The crowds surrounding us seemed to be evenly divided. There was a few people holding signs featuring bulldogs to support Brendan. One person actually wore an elaborate bulldog costume.

  I looked at Diego’s corner. His crew was larger than Brendan’s small yet reliable entourage. Diego’s wizened coach shouted at him in Spanish and tried to get his rowdy fighter to focus. I didn’t know if his words were getting through.

  I wasn’t an expert on the rules of MMA. All I knew was that a match ended in a few possible ways. A fighter could win through a submission that forces his opponent to tap out and surrender. He could win through a knockout which left his opponent in an unconscious state. Or he could win through a technical knockout through which the referee declares that the opponent is no longer in a condition capable of fighting and defending himself.

  Brendan was believed to be an underdog due to his lack experience in the UFC. However, the man had come off an impressive string of knockout victories from the local circuit. He was strong, fast, and had the instincts of a veteran. You would have to be a fool to not recognize him as a legitimate contender. I had never seen the man look so focused before.

  Brendan typically won through a knockout and I don’t think this would be any different.

  Soon, the referee gathered to announce the rules of the competition. I couldn’t help but feel a little nervous. It wasn’t that I had any doubts about Brendan’s ability to win. It was that I was afraid to see him get hurt. I felt a connection to the man and didn’t want him to suffer any more pain be it physical or emotional.

  But I also knew my man was strong.

  The referee finally finished his statement. “Okay gentlemen, keep it clean and have a good fight!”

  Brendan and Diego bumped their gloved hands together in a show of good sportsmanship before getting into position. Diego had the look of a fiery tempered Spaniard. Brendan had the expression of a stone cold assassin. I heard the bell sound through the digital speakers.

  The fight was on.

  It didn’t take long for Diego to go on the offence. He delivered a flurry of punches at his opponent. I had heard the Spaniard was known for his punching power and tenacity. A pair of his punches were said to make his opponents wobbly in their knees.

  Thankfully, Brendan dodged each one of them with casual ease.

  One of the commentators narrated. “A swing and a miss for Diego. How will Douglas retaliate?”

  The Bulldog hit back with a devastating elbow to Diego’s chest. It sent the man fly backwards. Brendan moved into grapple with him on the ground but Diego was already on his feet and ready to attack. His opponent let loose a roundhouse kick that missed Brendan by inches.

  “Douglas keeps dodging bullets. When will the man fire back? He’s keeping his space from Diego for now.”

  The other commentator chimed in. “Douglas is still on the back foot. Even in the first round, we usually see him fight a little more aggressively. Perhaps he’s wary of Diego’s powerful punches?”

  “It could be just nerves from competing in the big leagues.”

  To the untrained eye, this might have seemed true. Diego appeared to be dominating the fight. He let loose punch after punch and kick after kick. Thanks to Brendan’s reflexes, only a few managed to nick the recently debuted fighter.

  However, I knew Brendan’s strategy. Diego was a powerful fighter. Yet, the man’s conditioning was left wanting. Based on his previous matches, Brendan had noticed Diego tended to get fatigued if the match went on for too long. If Brendan could tire the man out, then Diego would be vulnerable to a counterattack.

  “Again, the Bulldog goes on the defensive. He’s just doing the bare minimal to keep the referee from declaring he can no longer defend himself. What is Douglas up to?”

  “A big wind-up from Diego Marquez!”

  That’s when Brendan dodged the dangerous attack and delivered a powerful punch to his opponent’s head. Diego brought his hands to his nose in pain. The man had begun to bleed profusely from the nose.

  Brendan followed up going low on the ground. With lightning speed, he swept Diego’s leg. The Spaniard fell on his back with a painful sounding thud.

  The crowd roared as the commentators became excited. “Diego is open for the taking!”

  Vulnerable as a turtle on his back, the Spaniard was at Brendan’s mercy. The Bulldog descended upon his opponent in iconic MMA fashion. He unleashed a flurry of powerful punches to the man’s head and body. Diego’s defenses broke down from the lightning quick set of punches. Only an elbow to Brendan’s side could force the Bulldog off him.

  The Spaniard got back on his feet but his face was covered in blood. “Diego is back up! We still have a good deal of time on the clock. Let’s see if Marquez can turn this around.”

  The other commentator wasn’t as certain. “But he looks like he’s seen some wear and tear. The referee might stop the fight if Brendan keeps this up.”

  Diego tried to counterattack after the beating he took. However, his injuries and fatigue were taking their toll on him. His swings became wild and missed there mark. The fighter looked more like a drunken man at a brawl than a trained fighter.

  It didn’t help that Brendan looked like he had barely broken a sweat. The man’s movement were quick yet efficient. He preferred to make his hits and doges count. His conditioning had paid off in spades.

  There was also this extra spring in Brendan’s step. Ever since we became lovers, there was this joy in him I hadn’t seen before. He seemed to be happier than he had ever been following Lisa’s death. He loved his craft. He loved his life.

  He loved me.

  “The Bulldog looks to be in top form! He’s going for the jugular!”

  “It’s been an action-packed two minutes and it’s just the first round! The crowd and the fans at home have been in for a treat tonight!”

  Finally, Brendan moved in to finish the job. Taking advantage of a sloppy punch by Diego, he delivered two quick punches that forced his opponent backwards and into a daze. Then, the Bulldog went low on the ground. With a powerful uppercut, the Bulldog rose off the ground and sent the Spaniard flying across the Octagon.

 

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