Kendo was absorbing information like a sponge she truly was prodigy in martial arts. Takeru had ever seen. Two weeks of training and she was already sharper, stronger, and more disciplined. If she weren't so expressive, he could almost mistake her for a professional in conditioning. Almost. Because every time he adjusted her stance, corrected her grip, or shifted her balance, Kendo's ears went pink. Every time she sparred with him, she tried a little too hard. And every time he pinned her to the mat, her pulse jumped in a way she couldn't hide.
Takeru noticed all of it. He didn't comment on it. He simply… let it happen. They recorded their sparring so Kendo could study the fight tape later and improve.
They met again at the Private training hall in Takeru apartment. Kendo arrived in fitted training gear, hair tied up, determination in her eyes. She masked her nerves well, but Takeru had learned her tells by now the slight hitch of her breath when she saw him, the way she straightened her jacket, the way she avoided looking directly at his chest.
"Ready?" he asked, stepping onto the mat.
"More than you," she said with a smirk that was a little too forced.
He matched it with one of his own. "We'll see."
They began with light grappling nothing heavy, just positioning and leverage. Kendo kept pace well, but Takeru could sense where her attention wandered. She reacted half a second slower whenever he tapped her hip or brushed her shoulder to guide her form. He let his hands linger a moment longer than necessary, his thumb pressing into the firm muscle of her thigh, and felt the shiver that ran through her.
During one maneuver, she attempted a shoulder throw. He let her get halfway through it, then reversed the momentum gently, stepping behind her and guiding her arm up and across her chest. Her breath stopped. He pressed his chest against her back, his mouth hovering just above her ear.
"You hesitated," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through her entire body.
"I didn't," she replied immediately, though her voice was strained.
"You did," he said, tone low and certain. "You always do when I get this close." He nipped her earlobe gently, and she gasped, her body stiffening in his arms. Her cheeks flushed deep red. She tried to twist away, but he didn't apply enough force for it to be a real attempt at restraint just enough to remind her that escape wasn't an option unless he allowed it. Her heartbeat was a frantic drum against his chest.
He released her slowly. "Let's try again."
She reset her stance, shoulders tense. "Fine. I can handle it."
He stepped in quickly, faster than before. She reacted late. Her hands hit his chest, and her breath caught again as he maneuvered her against the wall with almost no effort, caging her in with his arms.
"Kendo," he said softly, his eyes burning into hers. "Your striking is excellent. But grappling requires different instincts."
She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. "What instincts?"
"Dont second guess yourself" he said, leaning in closer, his lips a breath from hers. "And dont panic when you lose position." Her expression flickered—defiance, embarrassment, then something raw and vulnerable. Her hands, which had been pressed against his chest, slowly uncurled, her fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt instead of pushing him away.
"No guy has ever—" she stopped herself, shaking her head.
Takeru waited, his gaze unwavering. He could see the war raging behind her eyes, the desperate struggle between the fighter and the girl.
She tried again, her voice a whisper. "No one's ever made me feel off-balance like this."
He said nothing, but the slight upward curve of his mouth made her flush harder. He raised a hand, his knuckles tracing the line of her jaw, a feather-light touch that made her tremble.
"I'm supposed to be the one who overwhelms people," she admitted quietly, her eyes dropping to his mouth. "Not the one—"
She cut herself off, biting her lip.
"Not the one who gets overwhelmed?" he finished for her, his thumb now stroking her cheek.
She hesitated, then nodded once, a single, defeated motion.
He leaned in and kissed her. It wasn't aggressive, but slow and deliberate, a testing of boundaries. He felt her freeze for a split second before a choked whimper escaped her throat. She kissed him back, hesitant at first, then with a desperate, pent-up hunger. Her hands slid from his chest to his shoulders, clinging to him as if he were the only solid thing in a world that had suddenly tilted on its axis.
He deepened the kiss, his tongue tracing her lips until she parted them with a soft gasp. He explored her mouth slowly, thoroughly, claiming her. She melted against him, her body soft and pliant, all the fight and tension draining out of her to be replaced by a desperate need.
After a long moment, he pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against hers. Her breath came in ragged pants, her eyes glazed with lust and confusion.
"I shouldn't… but I can't help it," she whispered, her voice strained.
R18
Takeru turned to her, his expression unreadable. He reached out, his fingers tracing the line of her collarbone before moving to the hem of her sweat-soaked sports bra. With a single, deliberate motion, he peeled it up and over her head. Kendo shivered, her nipples hardening instantly in the cool air, her perky B-cup breasts exposed to his hungry gaze.
He leaned in, his breath warm against her skin. He pressed his lips to the side of her neck, right over the frantic pulse point, and his tongue snaked out to taste the salty sweat there. Kendo gasped, her hands flying to his shoulders to steady herself. He hummed against her skin, a low, pleased sound. "You taste like raspberry pre-workout," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through her.
Then he began his slow, methodical worship. He knelt before her, his eyes level with her toned stomach. He licked a long, slow stripe up her abdomen, tracing the lines of her tight abs. His tongue dipped into her navel, making her whimper. He kissed and nipped his way down, his hands gripping her hips, holding her steady as he explored every inch of her toned thighs with his lips and teeth. Kendo's head fell back, her breath coming in ragged pants. She felt like an offering, and he was a devoted, predatory worshipper.
He rose again, his attention returning to her chest. He took one of her sensitive nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hardened peak before nibbling it gently with his teeth. A sharp cry escaped her lips, her back arching, pushing more of herself into his mouth. He gave the other breast the same treatment, his hands kneading the soft flesh as he sucked and teased until she was squirming, a soft, desperate whine building in her throat.
He noticed it then. The way she simply accepted his touch, her body pliant and receptive. The confident fighter from the mat was gone, replaced by this submissive, trembling girl. It emboldened him. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her shorts and panties, pulling them down in one smooth motion. She stepped out of them without hesitation, her legs trembling.
He guided her to sit on the long wooden bench. Kneeling before her, he spread her legs wide, exposing her glistening pussy. He looked up at her, his eyes dark with lust. "You're so wet for me, Itsuka," he growled. He didn't wait for an answer. He slid a finger through her slick folds, circling her clit without quite touching it. She bucked her hips, a silent plea for more.
He chuckled, a low, dark sound. "Patience." He finally lowered his head and licked her, a flat, broad stroke that had her crying out his name. He ate her out with a focused intensity, his tongue flicking and probing, his fingers joining in to pump inside her. It didn't take long. The combination of his teasing and his relentless mouth sent her hurtling over the edge. Her body seized, a loud, ragged moan tearing from her throat as her first orgasm crashed through her.
But he didn't stop. He licked her through the waves of pleasure, his tongue never ceasing its maddening dance. As soon as the first orgasm subsided, he built her toward a second, his fingers curling inside her to hit that perfect spot. Kendo's eyes glazed over, her mind going blank with ecstasy. When she came again, it was even more powerful, her whole body shaking as she sobbed his name.
Finally, he rose. He unbuckled his pants, his hard cock springing free. He positioned himself at her entrance, the head nudging against her still-throbbing clit. Kendo looked up at him, her eyes hazy and unfocused, her lips parted. "Takeru....this is my first..." she stuttered... "SHHHH" Takeru calmed "I will take care you Kendo". He kissed her forehead and then her cheeks and her neck.
He pushed into her in one slow, deep stroke. Kendo's eyes rolled back in her head, a guttural moan escaping her lips as he stretched and filled her completely. He began to move, his thrusts slow and deep at first, then faster, harder, driving into her with a primal rhythm. Her glazed-over eyes stared at nothing, her body completely lost to the overwhelming pleasure of being utterly and completely claimed by him.
The fight cam recorded away ....