Desire to fight, to win, to fuck.My Rival and I circled in. Slowly. Bare feet hushing in the sand, oiled bodies gleaming in the moonlight. I wanted to...rush into his arms, longed to match his strength against mine again. I was mad with desire to wrestle. But we took our time, each knowing the strength of the other. And when we met a second time, it was more slowly. We came in, locking up in the classic wrestler's stance, hands sweeping lightly as we found our purchase. I let him come, felt his. He took a moment to soak in every detail of her exquisitely positioned and straining body. The way her inner thigh muscles flexed in an attempt to hide her treasures sent spine tingling thrills right to his loins. His brown eyes devoured those little details of her fear and distress like a Thanksgiving feast. In fact, that is just what she looked like, a sexually macabre trussed up raw turkey being served up on a black platter. For the first time, his fingers reached out and touched her in an. More

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