Chocolate and Caramel Ch. 02

She had on her robe when she came in. Standing, she shrugged it off. The only thing under it was her.

She was beautiful in her own right. She had a different father than Shondra, and had paler skin. Taller, smaller breasted, I got an instant erection. She saw it and smiled.

"Well, I know how part of you feels about my offer."

Her breasts were much more sensitive than Shondras', and I could almost get all of one in my mouth. I got a feeling, though she was really, really good st oral, she hadn't had the favor returned much, especially from someone who knew what they were doing. Trying to be quiet, she bit holes in my pillow.

She was much more flexible, shifting her athletic body into positions I found hard to keep up with. I tried my best, though.

When we were done the second time she gave me a slow sweet kiss.

"My sister was an idiot" she said,just as she slipped out the door.

I quit going to Mexico City. If I could find a better lover there, she would probably kill me.

Did we love each other? Yes, but not like that. We both knew it was temporary, and made the best of it.

Carlos Vittorio Sanchez, the wrestler, had not forgotten me. He had made his brags that sooner or later he would catch me out and give me a lesson, but so far our paths hadn't crossed. His son, Carlos Jr., was very proud of his father, so he shared his slight. He had seen Josh around town and taunted him a few times, but true to his training, he had let it slide. There had never been an issue because Josh always had friends around him.

I gave Josh the bike for his birthday. He was so happy. I limited his rides to the pasture and the grounds until I felt he was familiar enough with it. There was a trail that ran through the neighboring farms all the way to town, two miles away. I made him ask permission of every land owner before I let him go to town on it.

Bursting with pride when I gave him permission, he got his best friend and went to town. Her name was Angel, a sweet little twelve year old that was amazingly fast and deceptive as hell. The only one who could beat her was Josh, and sometimes she would push even him. I had just awarded her an orange belt, two belts above beginner. She was the first student to reach that level.

I think Angel was a little mature for her age, and I'm pretty sure she had Josh placed firmly in the boyfriend column. Josh of course, would be the last to know.

They saw a movie, got cokes at the little cafe beside the cinema. Carlos Jr. found them, and started trouble.

He was a big kid, around five nine and one seventy, to Josh's five five and one twenty.

Josh took it until he started insulting Angel. He saw Josh blush and knew he was on to something.

He was with four friends and got a little too brave. Before they realized what was going on, two of his friends had crept up behind them and grabbed Angel. She did as she was taught, and relaxed.

The elderly couple that owned the cafe came out and ordered them to leave her alone. Junior laughed and said they would let her go when they were finished with her. Josh sighed and took control of the situation.

"So this is your idea of honor? Five to two, all of you much bigger and one of us a girl? You're such a heman, Carlos."

He flamed red while his friends laughed.

Before he could speak Josh kept going.

"You really want this? Let the girl go, and step down this alley. Just you and me, right here, right now."

Carlos sneered.

"No! I want everyone to see how bad I beat you. Then maybe, if you beg hard enough, we'll let her go, unharmed. Maybe we'll have some fun with her first."

Josh kind of lost it.

"Well then swing, you lardass! You wanted it, you start it."

It was short, fast, and ugly. Carlos swung, hit empty air, and Josh was all over him. Two lightning fast punches to the face, then a kick to the stomach. Everyone heard the air whoosh out. Josh dropped, hooked a heel around his ankle, and upended him, rolling him into a submission hold that forced his arm out and locked. If Josh applied a little more pressure, his shoulder would be dislocated.

"Submit!"

Carlos pounded the ground trying to get leverage. Josh increased the pressure. Carlos almost screamed in pain.

"I submit!"

Josh put a little more pressure on his shoulder.

"Say it louder, and apologize to Angel."

"I SUBMIT! I'M SORRY! PLEASE LET ME GO!"

Josh immediately rolled away and bounced to his feet. He looked at Angel and gave her a nod. She stamped down on the boy holding her, almost breaking his arch. He automatically bent forward, and she jerked back violently, causing blood to spew from his nose, from contact with the back of her head. He staggered back, holding his bleeding nose and crying.

Angel and Josh stood back to back, waiting, but the fight had gone out of them. They blustered a little before skulking off, the laughter of the people who witnessed it in their ears.

When Carlos senior heard what happened he went crazy, beating Junior for losing, then roaring out to my house. A few of his followers and the gym owner came, most to see a fight, a few to try and stop it.

Angel and Josh had told me what happened, and I couldn't find fault with how they handled it. They hadn't started it, and only fought when there was no other choice. Still I was a little pissed when they got there.

He slid into the yard, and jumped out of his truck, running towards me and screaming. He was surprised when instead of backing up I ran towards him, jumped up and twirled, hitting him at the base of his neck. His nose left a two foot furrow in the dirt.

While he was trying to get up I approached the owner.

"If you hold him down, I got a proposition that might make you some good money."

Two of his compatriots helped him up. When his head cleared I got in his face. I wanted him hysterically angry.

"So", I sneered, "You sent a gang of teenagers, all bigger, all older, to rough up a twelve year old girl and an eleven year old boy. What a thing of honor that was. Your boy deserved to get his ass kicked, but I can see his line of thought. He was emulating the cowardly ways of his father. You wanna fight me asshole? Here's the deal. We fight next Saturday night, in the arena. We don't stop until one of us is unconscious. I put up a thousand, U.S., and you do the same. Winner take all. Can you scrape that much up, you pussy?"

He was red with anger, then went pale at the mention of the money. A thousand U.S. at the time was a lot of money. His pride forced him to agree.

"All right, see you Saturday. The fight doesn't start until the money from both is in the hands of the judges."

The Arena was the local bull fighting venue. A short ring would be set up, allowing a better view from the stands.

Word got out about the fight, and the stands were sold out. Diego, the gym owner and local promoter, was grinning ear to ear.

Tia Rodriguez had sewn me a mask, insisting all lucha libre wrestlers wore them, it was part of the mystique. I wasn't too keen on the idea until I put it on. After I determined it didn't a affect my vision or reactions, I was fine with it.

Gram, Gail, the Sanchez family, they were all in the box I had reserved for them. Angel and her mother were invited, but hadn't shown yet. Many of my fiends and coworkers were there. Many never knew I practiced martial arts.

We were the last to go on, so I watched with interest as the warmups fought, looking for patterns and weaknesses. There wasn't a lot of hitting, mostly grappling. I would use this.

Finally, the main event was over. Diego let them wait for a bit to build tension, before grabbing the microphone.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the final match. I'm sure you've heard by now, this is a grudge match, for bragging rights, among other things. It will pit our beloved style against one from a foreign devil."

They booed at this part.

"Please let me introduce the competitors. From out own town, The Matador."

He came strutting out, wearing a mask designed like a bull breathing fire, topped by a matador hat and a red cape. He had on bright red tights to match his mask. The crowd loved it.

"And his opponent, from America, The Gringo!"

I had on a mask designed over the American flag, red, white, and blue, with a large yellow star right in the middle of my forehead, all in shiny material. Instead of tights I wore my Chinese gi. which looked like a dress. I wore it because he would never be able to tell exactly where my legs were, something critical for a take down fighter. The were dark blue.

When he introduced me I did two backflips ending in a full split, an advanced set move. They wanted a show, I'd give them a show.

We met for the traditional greeting in the middle of the ring. I offered my hand, but he ignored it.

Before the referee knew what was going on, I took the extended hand and grabbed the back of his head, pulling him into a kiss. When I broke, I smiled.

"That was for Yolanda. Tell her I enjoyed last night, and I'll give her the ten pesos after the fight."

Yolanda was his oldest daughter, reputed to be really easy. I had never met her, but he didn't know that. If I wanted him pissed, it worked. It took the referee, Diego, and two of his ring men to get him back into his corner.

It shames me to say I wanted to humiliate him, so I put on a little show.

Carlos was big, vicious, and deceptively fast. We danced around a bit, and I kicked him repeatedly on his right thigh. It would slow him down, make him weaker when he tried his takedown moves. I knew from experience he was gonna walk slow and easy for the next few days. I had several opportunities to knock him out and the crowd knew it. We were both getting booed.

He had collapsed on his stool, gasping, after the second round. I refused to sit, rubbing it in. I leaned on the ropes, looking bored. After the second round, my cornerman caught on to what I was doing, and handed me a newspaper. I pretended to read, ignoring what was around me. It drove the crowd wild.

He got desperate and I got careless, and he managed to take me down in the third. It was a pretty hard scramble there for awhile but I broke loose. I heard later he said it was like trying to hold a snake, people shouldn't be able to move like that.

I started regretting showing off, until he gave me a hard shot to the balls during a break. I had on my cup, of course, and he didn't get me dead center, but it still hurt like hell. To his credit, the referee saw it and stopped the round, warning Carlos.

I grabbed the microphone the announcer had carelessly laid over the ropes in a neutral corner.

"Ladies, gentlemen, amigos. I honor my opponent. He has fought bravely. But it is time to end this. I'm willing to stop, now. We'll call it a draw and forget about the money."

I got applause from many for my gesture, and boos from many who wanted to see me defeated. Carlos refused angrily.

Time to end it, then.

When the round resumed, I took my time, waiting for an opportunity. He had taken a lesson from me, aiming kicks at my thigh. Connected once, that was gonna leave a bruise. He tried a kick again, and I grabbed his leg, pulling him off balance, upending him. He tried to roll away, and I dropped onto his back, driving a knee into his kidney. The whole crowd heard the gasp.

I put my arm round his neck, flipped him on top of me, wrapped my legs around him for leverage, and started applying pressure. He couldn't reach me, though he thrashed mightily, refusing to submit. It took forty five seconds for him to lose consciousness from lack of air.

The referee tapped my shoulder. I released him, and stood. The crowd went quiet, then roared as the referee held my hand up in the universal sign of victory. Everybody loves a winner.

..................................................

The Arena had facilities for the matadors, so I showered and cleaned up before going out to my family. Carlos was an asshole, but he was a pretty good fighter. I had several teeth loose, a split lip, a nasty bruise on my cheek and thigh, and a sore rib.

My family was waiting for me to come out. Angel and her mother had already left, but Gram said they would be by for lunch tomorrow. Gail was laughing.

"If Gram wasn't before, she's a certified wrestling fan now. Did you hear her screaming? When he took that cheap shot, I thought she was gonna go get in the ring and kick his ass. I literally had to hold her in the seat."

Mr. and Mrs. Rodriguez were just as excited, and we were in a good mood when we went for a quick bite afterwards. Gail noticed my limp. She went into nurse mode.

"We need to ice that bruise when we get home, and you could probably use a massage."

Later that night she gave me that massage. She checked out my equipment, then stroked me hard in no time.

"We need to make sure this thing still works right" she said, as she climbed on top.

"Just lay back and let me do the work."

It sounded like a good plan to me. She said the second round was just double checking, better safe than sorry.

I was bruised, contused, and drained. I slept like a rock for ten hours.

I missed breakfast, so I grabbed a banana and went out on the patio. Josh was there with Angel and a few of their friends, and they all wanted to hear about the fight.

I didn't glorify it, but I didn't downplay it either. It turned into a lecture.

"I gave him many opportunities to resolve our differences peacefully, but he always refused. Fighting is always the last step on the path. Remember, my students, it is always, ALWAYS, better to shake a hand than shake a fist."

Then I shared some news. I had gotten an invitation to register our dojo with the martial arts society in Mexico City. If I did this we could participate in competitions. I had already sent the paperwork in.

"Our first tournament is in a month. All of you will get your turn to participate, but only four this time, based on your skill levels. Josh, Angel, Jose, and Carlotta will represent us. Now, we need a name for our dojo, talk to all the students and have some suggestions for me when we meet on Tuesday."

The kids were all excited. I knew the name would be a hot topic for discussion for the next two days.

.................................................

It was almost time for lunch when Angel and her Mom showed up. At first glance I thought she was an older sister, she was that youthful looking. I found out later she was twenty seven , having married and had Angel by the time she was fifteen. It was a pretty common practice in the rural areas, at the time.

She had on a long, colorful skirt and a white blouse on, hair tied back in a bandana. It still almost reached her bottom. Deep, almost chocolate eyes. She was lean, with an ample chest and rounded bottom.

She was a single mother, her husband long departed for Mexico City, before he disappeared completely. Angel was three the last time she saw him.

The spark was there, I felt it the moment we touched. Her hands weren't soft, but strong and slightly calloused. You could tell she did manual labor.

Everyone noticed how tongue tied I got around her. Where my normal confidence went I had no idea. They stayed until dark, and I drove them home. Even in this quiet area there was crime.

Her house was small, but neat and homey. I got the feeling there wasn't a lot of spare money.

I got back to have Gram, Gail, Tia Rodriguez and her sister all grin at me.

"What?"

"Nothing, honey" said Gram, "that Rosalita sure is a sweet girl, isn't she, ladies?"

They all agreed, sagely.

"A fine looking woman, too. It's a wonder she's not married. Maybe the right man hasn't asked her yet" added Tia, looking right at me.

"Stop right now! I just met the woman, don't know a thing about her. Stop trying to marry me off."

They all just laughed and went to bed, all but Gail.

Gail and I had stopped sleeping together about two months ago. She had a steady man now, the young doctor she helped at the clinic. She said it wasn't that serious, but I could look at them and hear wedding bells.

She tried to tease me and I fired back, saying maybe we could have a double wedding. She got kind of quiet.

"He's hinting for something deeper, but it's only been six weeks. I told him gringos didn't move that fast. Still....he makes me so hot! And not just sexually, although he has great stamina."

I held up my hand.

"Whoa girl, too much information there. I'm happy for you though. You deserve good things."

Rosalita and Angel became regulars at Sunday lunch, staying until dark, when I would take them home.

We would eat, socialize with the family, and take walks, sometimes sitting in a quiet part of the patio.

I gave her my life history, and she gave me hers.

The youngest of thirteen, her marriage had been pretty much arranged without her input. He wasn't abusive as much as dismissive. After Angel was born, he pretty much ignored them both. They didn't really miss him when he left. She got a divorce for abandonment after seven years.

It was a month before I could get a real date out of her, If you call taking her, Angel, Gram and Josh to a wrestling match. After my match, they were addicted. Gram had her favorite, a young wrestler who always handed out flowers to the ladies, especially older ones, as he made his way to the ring. Gram had two she had pressed as mementos. He was The Lover, and wore a white mask with little red hearts. He wasn't a lover in the ring. He had a lot of talent and was relentless.

Diego got the seats for us, some of the best. He was after me relentlessly to wrestle for him, I had become a bit of an urban myth, a gringo Tlaloc, the Aztec god of thunderstorms and earthquakes. He had given me the nickname.

Rosalita liked it when she heard him call me that.

"It suits you. You're a storm that gathers slowly, meaning you're slow to anger. But when it builds up until the pressure is too much, you, like storms and earthquakes, explode suddenly and with great violence, sometimes leaving things destroyed or shattered in your wake. I hope you never get angry with me."

Never thought of myself quite like that.

We were in Mexico City, and after the match we had a nice dinner at one of the best restaurants in town. Chinese, something Rosalita and Angel had never tried. They loved it. I got a feeling they didn't eat out much.

I got my first kiss that night. She sent Angel in, saying she wanted to talk to me.

"Thank you for tonight. We both enjoyed it, it's the best time we've had in quite awhile."

I'm pretty sure was just meant to be a thank you peck, but it ended up lasting five minutes, gaining heat and momentum. Lips parted after about a minute and a half, tongues fighting for dominance in three. She broke it off quickly, breathing heavily, before mumbling goodnight and practically running into her house.

It took me about five minutes to get my breathing in control before I could leave. I lay awake for a long time that night, thinking.

She went with us the next Saturday for our first tournament. Two cars full, Me, Rosalita, and the kids in mine, Gail, Gram, and two sets of parents in the other.

One of the proudest moments of my life was when we introduced. Each dojo had a symbol and a flag. After a lot of discussion, the kids settled on "Hands of Peace", and our symbol was three hands joined together, one black, one brown, one white.

We didn't have a lot of respect when we went in. We left with six trophies. Three for katas, or in our case sets, and three for point fighting. Josh won two, Angel won two, and the others one each.

I sprang for ice cream for the whole group afterwards, and had a bunch of happy, tired kids when we got home.

I told them not to expect these kinds of results every time.