tagLesbian SexCrouching Passion, Hidden Pussy

Crouching Passion, Hidden Pussy

bywomanofsteel©

I stared at the flags that hung on the back wall of the dojang, my eyes seemingly focusing on them in a deep entranced stare. Yet it wasn't the flags that had garnered my attention, rather it was the invisible opponent I was about to face off with. I had been participating in martial arts, specifically taekwondo, for over seven years. All my hard work had earned me a second dan black belt, an achievement I was ever proud of. And hopefully by the end of this day I would take yet another step in my path as a martial artist – by gaining my next black belt.

"CHAYET!"

The Korean word for attention brought me back to earth. My eyes drifted downward slightly from the flags and focused on the judges before me, those who would decide if I was worthy enough to be promoted to my next belt. My older Master was sitting in the middle. He was an aging Korean man who appeared to be harmless – however anyone who fought with him soon found out appearances meant nothing in taekwondo. To his right was a good friend of mine, Karen, a young woman who had rose through the ranks with me since the very beginning. Though she was a dear friend of mine I knew that she would be fair in judging my worthiness to gain my next rank and not let her emotions get in the way. Beside her was a younger black belt, only a first dan, who was mostly there to learn and less to judge. To my Master's left was another black belt, a 7th degree who I didn't know very well as a person but knew as an amazing martial artist. And next to him I had suddenly noticed, was a young woman about my age. I had never seen her in the dojang before and –

"Gun-ye. Joong-be."

The Korean for bow and get ready snapped me back to attention. Before I could ponder over the new woman any longer, my mind was in a different place. My invisible enemy returned before my eyes.

"Shejak!"

The Korean word for "begin" rang in my mind as I suddenly struck out at my invisible opponent. My moves were flowing, like the water I had tried so hard to become. While I had always had the fire within me, the fight and strength, it had become far harder to become the graceful and flowing water. I had to become the um yang, the Korean style yin-yang – the epitome of balance. Each move, while sharp and distinct and full of power, was also graceful and beautiful. Forms, or poomse in Korean, were one of my strong points. Fighting the invisible opponent came easily to me.

While many who did the forms simply memorized them - left punch, right punch, knife hand, side kick, etc – I made the form a part of my very being. Each movement was an attack or a block against my opponent. Each movement had a meaning behind it, a history that dated back thousands of years and I brought back to life each time I performed it.

Finishing the form with a screaming yell, I held my balance in a complicated long stance with a reaching back fist called a song soo, for what seemed like ages. I willed my body not to tremble; I forced my muscles to appear at stone.

"Baro. Sho."

Finish and bow. I was heaving with the exertions of the pseudo-fight. My eyes were able to scan over my judges' steady gazes for just a moment before my Master motioned for me to turn around. As I did turned and closed my eyes to steady my breathing, I was surprised to have the burning dark eyes of the mysterious woman engrained into my mind. Who is she? I pondered while regaining my breath. Again I was interrupted from my thoughts as my Master shouted for me to turn around, bow, and take my seat again. I did so, but not before stealing one quick shy glance at the mystery woman. I was more than nervous when I realized her eyes had caught mine before I turned away.

As they called up the next round of students testing for their black belt ranks, I was able to study her more from afar. She was far more beautiful than I had originally assumed. Her face was composed of soft, beautiful angles – she had high cheek bones and beautiful smooth skin despite the fact she wore no makeup. Though I couldn't see the color of her eyes very well I could tell they were dark and piercing, eyes that frightened and seduced you all at once. She was well built, filling out the black tank top she wore beautifully. Her arms were well muscled, but not too chiseled. Though not big breasted, she was certainly perky and wonderfully shaped in that area. Resting gently upon them was a small medallion that shone with a dull sheen in the florescent lights. However, most striking to me was her incredible hair. Cut short and spiked out in the back, she had two chunky bangs that fell to either side of her face. Most of it was dyed a midnight black, while the front bangs that fell into her eyes were dyed a deep beautiful almost blood red.

I was too busy admiring her to notice her staring back at me, a brow arched high over a dark eye as she noticed by fascination with her. I quickly glanced away, feeling the blood pound into my face. Her eyes returned to those testing before her, and I heaved a sigh of relief and attempted to force my heart to stop pounding. For a long while I stared down at my legs which were crossed Indian style before me. My fingers gently traced over my worn feet, calloused and scarred from years of hard training. Martial artists are right up there with toe shoe ballet dancers when it comes to foot beauty. My mind drifted away from the beautiful woman as I chanced a glance upward again, watching the others do their forms before the judges. It wasn't long before I was having a hard time focusing on them and not on her. Thankfully she did not appear to glance at me again, being too entranced by those testing.

Soon the forms division of the testing was over. Next would be self defense, then sparring, and then breaking. Breaking was always held till last, considering it was the division that usually would lead to the most injuries.

The self defense section of the test flew by me. The motions, like my forms, were memorized and came to me effortlessly. It wasn't that I slacked off, rather I worked out of trained instinct. I was chosen to defend myself against Karen, which also made it easier as I was so used to her movements. Punches and kicks came almost dangerously close to my good friend, but she knew better than to mistrust my hands and feet. My extremities were my weapons, and I had masterful control over them. Not once would I miss or harm her, and she knew this well. Soon I was sitting on the sidelines again, waiting for the sparring section of the test. I watched as a fellow testing black belt defended against the mystery woman whose name I had come to find was Gwen, or 'Miss Kardon' as my Master called her to the class. As I watched, Miss Kardon's intensity amazed me even as she went through the practiced drills. I could barely pull my eyes away from her burning orbs, filled with such an amazing fire – and passion for her art.

Soon it was time for me to spar and I was called up to the front of the room. My Master spoke to me in an even voice that could easily be heard throughout the dojang. "Miss Harmon, you test today for your third degree black belt. This is a very prestigious honor indeed, as it marks the point where you are a third of the way done with your journey to the ultimate goal," my Master of course was speaking of the 9th dan, the highest black belt attainable in taekwondo. He continued, "As you know, there is not a soul here who will be given their rank today. They must earn it through the strength of their heart and mind, as well as their body." There were nods of approval from the audience- it was well known that Master Kim was not one to give away ranks. "In light of this, I have made a decision. You must choose five opponents to spar with today. First you will spar against a trio. Then a pair. And then against the highest ranking belt of your choosing. Each fight will last three minutes, with one 30 second break." There were a few shocked glances from those listening – fighting that many fights with that many people in a row would be more than difficult. I fought to keep in a smug smile – such a difficult task would only be suggested if the Master thought I had enough skill to do well against such odds. "You may choose from anyone in the dojang, given they are willing to do combat with you. Choose your opponents."

"Yes sir," I answered, bowing to him. For my trio I chose Karen and two second dan black belts who I had sparred with many times in the past. Knowing this trio's moves would make it a little easier on me, but certainly no simple matter. My pair was composed of a fifth degree and a third degree. My eyes scanned the room as I searched for my final opponent. No one seemed to be of a high enough rank...finally the mystery woman stood. "Miss Harmon. Might I offer to be your final opponent, as I am one of the only high ranking black belts left?" I saw that beneath the table she was wearing black dobock pants and a 7th degree black belt. I bowed to her. "Yes ma'am, as you wish."

My Master smiled and nodded his head, proud of my willingness to take on such formidable opponents. "Good. I wish you the best of luck, Miss Harmon."

"Thank you sir," I said with a deep bow. I was instructed to turn and face my first three opponents. We bowed to one another, and then took our ready stances. "Ready?" questioned my Master. I nodded in acquiesce. "Shejak!" I moved in instantly, surprising the trio with my aggression, as I landed a few kicks on the middle opponent before side stepping around her, making sure to keep close behind her. The trick to fighting numerous opponents was sticking close to one, and trying to make the others form a useless clump behind them. However, these were well trained black belts, and halfway through my plan, one of them caught me in a mid step, nailing me in the ribcage with a powerful sidekick. I winced almost having the wind knocked out of me as my organs seemed to rattle inside of me from the impact. I took a few steps back to catch my breath, trying to defend against the relentless attacks at the same time. Though the rest of the fight was mostly backing away, defense, and counter attacking, I still fared well. I was already panting by the end of the fight – and I still had more to go!

The second fight went better than planned when I early on nailed the fifth degree with a jumping back kick – effectively taking her out as any sort of threat for the rest of the fight as she spent more time avoiding getting hit again than attacking me. This fight was a little easier on me, but my legs still felt like heavy concrete pillars and my lungs burning with exertion by the end of the match. While three minutes doesn't seem like much before hand, after the fight you feel as if you fought for an hour straight. My breath was ragged as I attempted to slow my heart beat and breathing for the 90 second break I was allotted between fights. My breathing and heart had slowed some as I prepared to match up to my next opponent, and I was slightly fearful as my heart jumped to racing again just by glancing into those penetrating eyes.

I wondered how I was ever going to get about fighting this woman when she could take me out just with a glance! A dark, almost cocky smile swept over her luscious lips, and I had to force myself from licking my own that had gone suddenly dry. We bowed and paired off, and I was unable to take my eyes from hers. I had barely even heard the shout to begin when she suddenly came in with a torrent of return kicks – a move I called a hurricane attack. Instead of falling for her trap and backing up in fear which would allow her to make continual hits on me, I rushed in, taking out the attack with a well placed punch to her chest protector. She took a step back, her eyes locking on mine for just a moment as she bounced on the balls of her feet. Her gaze locked on my shoulders, which would usually tell her right when I was about to make an attack.

I faked her, jumping slightly and twisting my shoulders to simulate an attack. She threw an auto-response return kick, just as I had suspected. I immediately came in with a stepping in back kick, but when I expected to hit her I felt nothing. She had moved out of the way, and had gotten a sound kick on my chest protector before I could do a single thing to make up for my slowness. I was shocked at her quickness – I suddenly felt I had underestimated her. Yet, instead of hesitating and giving in to shock, I rushed in again with a flurry of varying kicks, many of which she easily blocked with forearms that felt like steel.

My insteps were throbbing as I jumped back, keeping a good deal of my weight balanced on my front foot, prepared to throw a kick with the back at any moment. We danced around in a circle for awhile, testing the waters with fakes and half kicks. Suddenly she faked to one the side and then moved to the other, landing a sound side kick on my mid section. Before I could even think of a counter, she whirled around with amazing speed and I suddenly found myself on the floor. She had thrown a spinning wheel kick, and landed it soundly on the side of my head, just beneath my head protector. The world was rolling before and beneath me, and my head throbbed. Thankfully, my Master had called the end of the match just a nanosecond before I hit the ground.

I grabbed and missed and on the second try caught hold of the hand that was offered to me. I was pulled upwards, and immediately tumbled forwards again against the body that had pulled me up – which happened to be Miss Kardon. She supported my weight, and I was glad my face was already flushed as I momentarily took in her body heat and scent. She gently hefted me back into the upright position with astounding strength, but did not back away from me – which left her face only inches from mine. My eyes locked on hers as my vision slowly stopped swimming. "You okay?" her voice was soft, but as strong as her body was. I nodded, still trying to make everything stay still. "Good. You're an excellent fighter." I smiled meekly at her, and before I could thank her she was walking away, leaving me unceremoniously staring at her delicious ass. Thankfully no one noticed as I regained my senses, and bowed to the judges, then returned to my seat on the mat.

Finally my head cleared, and I had cooled off from the fights – well everything except that which was within my pants. My fight with Gwen had left me incredibly turned on, despite the fact that the woman had almost given me a K.O. Shockingly beautiful, she was an amazing fighter to boot. I glanced up and realized her stare was not on those fighting before her, but was directly right at me. Once again the blood flooded into my face as I glanced back down at the floor, pretending to rub a cramp out of my foot. What kind of look was that, anyway? Was she as turned on as I was? I sighed and softly shook my head to myself – only in dream world.

The rest of the fights went well, with the biggest injury being only a bloody lip. The next division would be one of the most interesting, and I knew I would be last. I was the highest rank testing, and I would be breaking two different sections of concrete and be breaking at three board stations. I watched as my friends and fellow practitioners conquered mind over matter, participating in what is seen by the general population as one of the most incredible and most crazy parts of our art. I was slightly unnerved by the fact that when I was called up, I could feel Gwen's intense eyes boring into me. It felt as if she were more than just judging me for the testing, as if she were sizing me up like a steak at the deli counter.

Despite this slight uneasiness, I broke my boards without too much difficulty. Applause sprang up with each break, and I bowed to the audience after each one. The next two stations would bring my test to its climax – the breaking of concrete. I stared at the hunk sitting precariously on two cinderblocks. I practiced a few times, visualizing my hammer smash crushing through the rock hard concrete like it was a hot knife through butter. With an eardrum shattering scream I brought my fist down – and through. I smiled and stood back from the shattered pieces. I picked a few small rocks that had been imbedded in my hand from the breaking, ignoring the small rivulets of blood that seeped to the surface of the side of my hand. Soon the second piece was set up, and I was practicing my palm smash. I was slightly more afraid of this break, as it was highly likely to compact or even break the bones in my wrist by performing this break. I took a deep breath, closing my eyes and clearing my mind before letting out another yell and smashed through. A shot of pain ran up through my arm, and I forced myself not to wince. My hand was quite bloodied by now, but I ignored it.

After my break and the ensuing applause, Master quickly went through the bowing out ceremony, as if knowing I needed to address my hand. As I headed towards the edge of the mat, Gwen approached me, hand outstretched. "Let me see that," she said, grabbing at it before I could do anything. She poked and prodded at my wrist, turning it this way and that in her soft hands. "Well it doesn't seem broken...let's go get it wrapped." Again before I could respond she was dragging me towards a small room in the corner of the dojang that was used for anyone injured during class. We entered and she closed the door behind us. "You know you really don't have..." I started as she opened the first aid kit on the wall and began pulling out various items. She turned, arching an eyebrow at me. "Of course I don't have to, but I'd thought I would try and make up for almost knocking you out. Would you rather I give you push ups?" She grinned at me as I shook my head, "No ma'am." She waved her hand at me. "Testing is over. Please, call me Gwen." I forced myself to not respond with my automatic, 'yes ma'am.' She chuckled as the awkward silence was my obvious attempt not to give in to the trained habit.

She snatched at my hand again, talking as she ripped open an alcohol pad. I was unable to control the wince (that she ignored) as she vigorously rubbed out the small rocks imbedded in the wound. She spoke in an inadvertently seductive voice as she took care of my hand. "I'm glad I made it in time for this testing – I'm an old friend of your Master's. I recently moved here to go to grad school and found out a few days ago that Master Kim had been here for awhile. He asked me to come and assist with testing and teaching the beginners and I was more than glad to do so." I nodded, watching her wrap my hand, as she was being careful not to make it too tight. "Master Kim has told me plenty about you, Miss Harmon. And I must say you are just as good of a martial artist as he said." I smiled, used to having the blood in my face by now. "Thank you ma—er—Gwen. You can call me Delilah, if you like." She smiled softly at me, something that seemed slightly out of place on her previously harsh but beautiful face, and suddenly realized she had been holding onto my hand longer than necessary as she had finished wrapping it. She reluctantly let go, and I was happy to see I wasn't the only one who could be quick to blush.

The blush was soon sent to my face again, as hers was replaced by a slightly seductive grin. "He should have also mentioned to me how good looking you were..." My eyes widened, and my heart almost jumped out of my chest as she took another step towards me. "I noticed you staring a little during testing..." I glanced away, suddenly shy. I immediately felt embarrassed. She grinned as I finally glanced back at her. "Nothing to be shy about – is there something wrong with two women finding each other attractive?" She took another step towards me, and I found my back against the door we had entered earlier. I felt like the prey of a huge tigress – but for some unsurprising reason I had no problem with being eaten by this beautiful beast...I swallowed, becoming a little braver. "No." Ok, so maybe not too much braver.

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