A Dish Served Cold Pt. 01

"Slam," the sound reverberated in my head, ears now ringing as I crashed into the ground again. The word and medical condition both fit how I was feeling at the moment. Shock noun: a sudden upsetting or surprising event or experience. Also, shock, a critical condition brought on by the sudden drop in blood flow through the body likely resulting from trauma.

"Get up. I don't want to take advantage of someone who is defenseless." Laying there in the fetal position, the description of me was entirely apropos. Perhaps my best defense was remaining on the ground, playing dead. An intimidating towering mountain of muscularity loomed over me after completely dominating me physically."But given what you've done, I'm pretty much compelled to finish you off either way," she growled. What I've done.

Fuck, she wasn't going to let up, and she remembered. I'd hoped that she was just some crazy woman that was offended when we'd collided on the path. After my usual weekend of debauchery, I'd recently instated a regular trail loop hike every Sunday morning to avoid putting on too much weight. The freshman fifteen had come fast and then another fifteen turned an athletic high school athlete into a beer-bellied frat rat in just two years. There was still some measure of athleticism -- some -- but not to the extraordinary level of the woman looking down on me -- literally and figuratively.

* * *

It had begun a few moments before. Out of breath on a short uphill stent, staring down, to maintain my footing, I'd seen a sudden shadow and then been upended when it felt like I'd run into a brick wall.

Squinting into the sun, I looked up at a large figure in anger. "Watch where you're going, buddy."

"Shut up." A feminine voice spat back. "You have no right to talk to me like that." I saw a series of long auburn curly locks escaping from beneath her hoodie and quickly recognized my mistake.

I shook out the cobwebs and tried to reframe the narrative as I'd been taught in sociology. Yeah, I'd attended classes occasionally -- I even maintained a 3.2 without studying, but that's another story. "Oh sorry, miss, but really you should be more careful, right? It sounded better to me, anyway.

Avoiding eye contact due to the line of the sun, I looked down and was struck by her legs. A pair of what looked like black spandex biking shorts stretched thin trying in vain to cover a pair of hyper-sized quads. Billowing out from under the material two fantastically sized feathered teardrop muscles completed the awe-inspiring definition and size.

"Don't tell me what to do and not to do. Get up!" She pronounced, her voice so magisterial that I felt compelled to comply. As I pushed up off the ground my eyes traced the mountain of muscle that made up her legs in stunned silence. Unwittingly, the head of my cock strained against my shorts, which made the situation even more embarrassing. Was I turned on by her calves, power, or was it residue from the activities of the evening before when I'd bedded a sorority girl? What was her name again?

When I stood and removed myself from the effect of the sun's glare, I looked over the woman more closely. Aviator glasses, a yellow baseball hat, a black hoodie, and the spandex shorts presented a strange outfit. She looked like an overly fit trail runner -- someone you shook your head watching as they passed you on the trail huffing and puffing. I'd always had a thing for muscular, carved calves so I'll admit that my Sunday morning hikes were partly because I was a perve for those too. Yet, she towered over me by three or four inches and the determined grimace on her face virtually shouted, don't fuck with me. Uncertain how to respond I just shook my head sniggered and moved to pass around her without words.

Like a cat, she moved in front of me. "What's your problem?" I asked.

"You," she responded sternly. I rolled my eyes and cut back the other way to get around her and end the silliness. But, she held out an arm and stopped me cold in my tracks. Hating to do it to a woman, I gave her a shove to get past, but she didn't budge.

"That all you got?" She chuckled. I could almost feel my cheeks redden in anger. I pushed hard, more from anger than thinking and again she stood unmoved. Yet, a corresponding simple shove from her outstretched arm set me back on my heels. Looking back, I should have found a way to deescalate at that point. I was pushing 230 with my beer belly and she clearly hadn't even given the thrust much effort and it had still sent me reeling.

Embarrassed, confused, and angry, I have to forgive myself a little for my reaction. I punched her shoulder though I pulled back a bit in the realization of what I was doing at the last second. Aside from the material of her sweatshirt, there was absolutely no give. It felt like hitting a piece of steel covered by a blanket and it was all I could do not avoid shaking my hand in pain.

"Really, that's what you've got." She sniggered. She shoved me again sending me on my heels. "Okay, I'll give you one more chance to hit me before we fight for real. Don't pull back this time or you'll regret it."

For a moment I considered and then I decided I needed to fight my way out of this. I could feel bad about it later, but the lady was clearly crazy. "Crazy fuck," I yelled out like a war cry, and this time I wound up and aimed for her stomach. I'd put her out of commission without doing any long-term damage.

Punching hard, I was astonished by the speed of the great colossus. She blocked me with her left arm before striking me with her right. A forceful thud hit my diaphragm, forcing the air from me in a great whoosh as I lurched forward. I only realized that she'd trapped my arm as the same hand that had knocked the wind from me glided up beneath my chin and twisted to knock me off balance and drop me on my ass. Ears ringing, the word how thundered through my brain, but no longer, why.

When the fist had started to fly the flashbacks of my indiscretion, well it's probably more of a transgression if I'm going to be honest, rode over me like a tremendous wave. Lareen -- the skinny volleyball girl? It couldn't be, but the intensity in her eyes looked at me told me that my recollection had been spot on. But how could she be the colossal Amazon who stood in front of me?