Discoveries of a Young Man Pt. 10

Envisioning those two, I felt my cock grow at a rapid pace. Smart move, idiot. Right in front of Freya. She'd see me throb. I opened my eyes, and I saw her sitting how she did before, slightly turned away, now having both her oiled hands on my furthest thigh, kneading firmly away at my quads.

"Sorry," I muttered. She had done me the courtesy of being honest, so I wanted to offer the same.

"It's okay," Freya muttered. I couldn't tell if she was embarrassed or angry.

Freya did the right thing, though. She didn't give it any other response. I knew very well she'd never make a single move on me, both having a lot of respect for Mel, and Hope, but also me as her pupil. It was a line mentor and the student never should cross, no matter what, and her being a combat sports person through and through, I knew Freya would never betray that bond. And I was glad she wouldn't. This was as heated as it would ever likely get between us.

"Might need a shower after this," Freya complained. "This has to've been the warmest April in years, right?"

"I don't know. I'm used to the Northwest and the Midwest, so Tampa is like a wet desert to me," I said with a shrug. "Oh, careful-"

Freya had leaned over to grab more oil on the other side of me, and thus rubbed her wrist-to-elbow along my shaft, in essence giving it a stroke. I was so sensitive it was almost torture. She stopped dead in her tracks and looked at me with fear in her eyes.

"Sorry," she said, a bit wide-eyed. "I... I didn't mean to."

"It's okay, I'm just a bit sensitive," I said, letting her lean up again, careful not to look anywhere but her eyes. Then I realized what I had just said. "Fuck, I didn't mean it like that."

Freya rolled her eyes, but not with as much conviction as she usually did. "TMI, Bran," she said in a low voice.

"Yeah. Sorry," I said, ready to let it rest. I just hoped it would go down enough so I could catch some sleep.

"Guys," Freya scolded, scooting down to sit by my knee instead.

"What? I can't help it," I said, trying to keep things in a 'trivial' mood. "It builds pressure and it makes it more sensitive." Well, there I went from 'trivial' to not so much.

I then caught Freya eyeing it. A full glance as her eyes went along my hidden cock's length. Had she been eyeing me when she sat with her back towards me, and now just simply forgot I could see her? Suddenly she realized, her dark brown eyes darting to mine before blushing, resuming massaging my left thigh. It was the last bit before we were done, thankfully.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to," she said, looking up at me.

"Don't worry about it," I encouraged. Freya glanced once more, and somehow that made me throb.

"You need to turn around again," Freya said.

"Yeah?" I asked. I was sure she was more or less trying to get out of the situation.

"I forgot, erh, your glutes," she said. Wait, was this a ploy to feel me up? I had my ass massaged before, but Maria never looked at my throbbing shaft before she did it.

But I rolled over, eager to hide my erection. Before I had time to react, Freya promptly took her fingers into my waistband and started gliding my tight boxer shorts down my ass, and before I guess she could react, she had put both fingers and palm on my right cheek and given it a squeeze. To mask it, she quickly squirted a bit too much oil onto me, feigning spreading it out.

Maria always did it with a towel separating us, and only by using her palms up under said towel. Freya had her own approach, if it was correct or not, where she used her fingers and thumbs to dig into the flesh of my ass. It was weird, but I sorta liked it too. I had never thought to be sensitive around that area, but as it was mostly an ungroped area, I guess it made sense. It tickled in fact.

"Never had my ass massaged like that before," I moaned.

"Really? Well, it's more of a hands-on approach. Just let me know if it's too far," Freya said, reassuring me she was only as comfortable as I was. Though, I could sense she was pushing it a bit. "Besides, we've more or less seen most of each other during training anyway."

I guess that was true. I often trained in either shorts or boxers, as you got so insanely sweaty from hours on hours of boxing training. And Freya always wore skin-tight clothing. And today, I'd seen some of her skin, and she some of mine. I mean, it was just circumstantial, right?

"Seems like it's not too bad, you're getting goosebumps," Freya commented. I guess I had in fact gotten goosebumps. To my surprise, she even gave me a very unhidden squeeze, but sort of in a playful manner.

"It tickles," I excused. Deciding to play the playful route, Freya emphasized the ticklishness by running a featherlike finger from the bottom of one cheek, up and around to the other cheek, almost like a U. "Alright, alright. Enough," I said, squirming lightly at her touch.

"Fine," Freya said, playfulness lacing her voice, leaning down and doing something I'd never expect her of all people to do. She kissed me lightly on the shoulder. But only briefly. She shot back up, her hands drawing to her mouth. "Sorry! Fuck, Bran, I forgot for a second... Sorry!"

"Ugh, it's okay... just, erh, please keep things... you know..." I said, not wanting to yell at her.

I turned around and saw the distraught on Freya's face. She probably got a bit lost in the moment. It was a gesture coming from a good place. It was by no means okay, but still. I took her hands in mine, taking them away from her face, and looking into her darker eyes.

"It's okay," I said again. "Let's, erh, let's call it a night, eh? I'm not pissed. You didn't do anything wrong."

Freya nodded frantically, moving aside so I could get over to my bed. Sleep didn't come as easy as it should've. I felt bad both for Freya and for letting it go so far. Both for me, my girlfriends at home, and Freya. It didn't feel great, honestly. When I woke that morning, I even stole out on the balcony to call Mel, knowing she was on her way to work. She listened carefully as I told every single little detail of the massage.

"That's not too bad," Mel said after. "We know she got the hots for you. At least you didn't fuck the shit out of her or something."

"Mel, I feel like shit," I said honestly.

"Awh, you don't have to feel bad," Mel said warmly. "It was an accident. She probably just got caught up or something. It's okay. Just keep her clothes on and some towels for modesty."

"Yeah, it was really warm yesterday so she had a cold shower before and stuff... God, I can't wait to see you again," I groaned impatiently.

"It's only been a day," Mel scolded playfully.

"Yeah, that's a day too much," I replied.

"Yeah. Well, I gotta go to work in a few. No harm no foul, Bran. If anything, I'll call her later and talk to her," Mel said. We exchanged goodbyes and hung up.

*

When we went to work out that morning, Freya seemed a bit embarrassed. But she dealt with it the only way she knew, by torturing me. Training me hard. It was the last full week of real training, so this was when we had to go hard. We anticipated an easy victory, but when it comes to getting punched in the head you have to be ready for anything. The guy had enough money to buy the best trainers, so we had to take him seriously, despite not being a real boxer.

That evening, it was again time for my massage. I wasn't sure how to broach this, but Freya seemed like she did. She was also dressed in white sweatpants and a white t-shirt instead of a bathrobe.

"About yesterday," Freya said. She looked reluctant and shy but determined to talk this out. "And shut up now, don't interrupt. It went a bit too far. We were both tired and perhaps a bit fucked up from the warmth. I talked with Mel, like she told you. I'll keep my clothes on, and I got these big thick towels to cover with, and we're doing the massage on your bed. No more funny business from either of us and that's the end of it."

I looked at her. I knew there was no room for discussion. I just shrugged my shoulders and laid down. And that was honestly the end of it for the rest of the weeks.

The weeks were still torture. While I was pent up, I also missed hanging out at home. I wanted to see how our new home was coming along. Our home. Which we literally had poured blood, sweat, and tears into. We worked our asses off, and soon, in the coming months, we'd be able to move into something we had built ourselves, that was completely ours.

And as a guy, I also missed Mel and Hope for obvious reasons. I never knew I was such a sex fiend until I spent two weeks away from them. Starved of their love and devotion, I constantly felt my focus shift from the training to images of them in various sexual acts with both me and with each other. I couldn't wait until this fight was over. I wanted to see my girls, to watch them smile and laugh, to have the greatest time of my life with them. To see them sunbathe, bake, play sports in our new giant backyard, and work the new garden together with them. Experience life outside of the squared circle with my two beauties.

*

We were heading to some sort of press conference or some shit. I had never been at one, as I was a total nobody in the fighting game. I was a pro, so I guess that was the enticing part of me for these guys, and I tended to knock out people, or at least knock them down. But with big egos to be stroked, press conference here we go. It mostly consisted of a bunch of the influencers, some I even drew recognition of, talking trash to one another.

I could barely see the journalists, honestly. All the lights sorta blinded me. Just as well. One person I did notice, however, was Johnny something. I had fought on the same card as him on my debut. I didn't like him then, and I don't like him now. He just had this arrogant vibe over him, and as he talked to his opponent, all he wanted to talk about was how he was gonna fuck this kid's girl after he beat the shit out of him. It was just stupid alpha-dog bullshit that was uncalled for. As for as I knew, he had no real beef with the kid, it was just shit he said. And I even talked to Johnny's own girl, Christy, and she was extremely nice, so you'd think he couldn't be too bad. But he was. He was so fucking obnoxious.

I paid none of it any mind as I just sat there fidgeting with my bottle, thinking about cuddling up to Mel with Hope cuddling up to me. I was so fed up with all this bullshit. At this point, the anticipation to fight and the anticipation for it to be over were all matched up. Until the influencer guy next to me nudged me. "Huh?" I said, looking at him and then up in front of me. I realized someone had asked me a question.

"I asked, how do you see this fight going?" some guy asked. I guess he was the host.

"Oh," I said, thinking back to what Freya had said. "I'll retire from boxing if it goes to the second round," I replied, turning back to fidgeting with my bottle, unaware of how it had gone over with the crowd.

"That was fucking cold," Freya said that night in the room. We sat on the two-seater and ate our dinner. It was the night before the weigh-in and face-off and the day after that; the fight. "I know I forbid you from looking up what people say, but I can tell you people out there liked it a lot."

"Yeah, I don't really care. I just want to go home to Indiana," I said, more annoyed than I meant it to be, being more homesick than one could possibly imagine. I was just dying to get it over with.

Freya smiled at that. "You miss them?" Freya asked.

I let out a heavy sigh. "Yes. I love those two girls so much, I can't fucking stand being here," I said in all honesty.

"Yeah, they're fantastic," Freya agreed. "Well, they're here tomorrow night."

"But I can't see 'em until after the show, and it doesn't end until midnight," I said defeatedly. That was how it was with these things. To maintain focus, I was always alone with my team the two to three days before the fight, this time around a whole two weeks. Everyone in my camp knew if I was allowed access to my girls I'd never make it to the ring.

The face-off the next day was just me looking at the guy in the face for a few seconds for pictures after a ceremonial weigh-in. Dead 175 lbs as usual. I was the professional here, so making weight was the least of my problems. The guy was pretty well-built himself, and a bit taller, but nothing to worry about.

Usually, on the night before a fight, I was nervous along with a weird mix of anticipation and fear. This time around, I was just impatient. As fuck. I paced the room all night more or less, only getting a few hours on the pillow. If this was against a real fighter I'd be worried, but I was still confident I'd fuck this guy up in under a minute, perhaps two. Some thirty-year-old chef who had one or two fights before? I had perhaps just two professional fights myself, both won by way of knock-out, but I had amateur bouts in the double digits. And I was still 21, at least for a few more hours, so I was also much younger.

"You've been pacing all night?" Freya asked when she woke up. I could tell she wore very little under her blanket, so I turned away to let her dress.

"I slept a bit," I muttered.

The rest of the day was much like any other fight night. Waiting and waiting. Frank showed up in our room as my cut and Vaseline man. When the clock reached five, I finally stood from the chair. "Alright. Let's go get this shit done," I said, yanking my trainers up from their respective seats.

"What's the fight order?" I asked Frank in the elevator.

"You're the third last fight. Apparently, the guy you're fighting is a big deal in the influencer scene," Frank said, shrugging his shoulders. I did too.

I wanted to be the first so I could bail, but whatever. I was obligated to stay for the duration. Part of the reason was that they expected the fighters to linger around, but I guess there was drug testing too. At least we lived close to the Yuengling Center, where the fight was. I would be fighting in front of a fully packed 10,000 arena. It was a big jump from the 500 I usually fought in front of.

"How's my substitute doing?" I asked. Frank had to get another part-time accountant during my camps, as I was too busy being a pro boxer.

"He's alright," Frank said with yet another shrug. "You shouldn't worry about that, though."

"Bran, focus," Freya urged. She knew how I'd almost spun into a frenzy of distractfulness and homesickness.

It was hard. Firstly, to take the fight seriously, and secondly, to focus at all. I wasn't used to this. Maybe the giant stadium, the giant audience, and the two weeks away from Mel and Hope were taking its toll on me more than I recognized myself. Freya was right. I needed to focus.

"Remember, you need to get him outta there quick, but that doesn't mean you gotta do something stupid, right?" Freya said, sensing my urgency.

"Of course," I said. It would truly be embarrassing if I got flatlined by an influencer.

"He has a shit Philly shell, so you can easily make work with your right, and off the jab," Freya added.

"Hey, how about we watch a movie and chill the fuck out for a bit?" Frank said, trying a different approach to calm me down.

So in the middle of the locker room, while the influencers and other fighters were doing their thing, the three of us huddled together over the tablet to watch some 'Destination Wedding', one of my favorite movies. We got halfway through the puma scene before it was my turn to walk out.

"Brandon Langley," some announcer called. It was my turn.

"Meet you out there," Freya said, and she and Frank headed off. They'd meet me by the ring, which meant I had to walk out alone.

For a few moments, I was alone in the entire locker room and everyone in it. They all looked at me, but it was hard to gauge what they thought. Probably contemplating their own fights, looking at whoever was next, just to look. I looked at the guy who called for me, who waved for me to follow him.

I stood up and ignored the rest of the locker room as I headed after the announcer. Through a few corridors, and in front of a sponsor wall. I looked at it, unable to really draw attention to the brands. Then a camera was shoved in my face and my walkout song, a Creedence song picked by Mel, started to play.

The volume of the audience was mind-boggling. There wasn't a huge pop or anything for me in particular, but it was plenty more than the few folks who knew who I was in a 500-person arena in Indianapolis. Even if they were just cheering for the sake of cheering, they were way more than what I was used to. Luckily, it wasn't a long walk, and as soon as I stepped into the ring, I could truly make out how much bigger this arena was. Rows and rows of people. I knew they weren't here for me, but it was still mind-boggling to see 10,000 folks gathered all in the same place to watch me fight.

I looked across the ring and saw the guy I was fighting as they announced him. It then dawned on me that I didn't even know his name. I had watched every second of his only two fights but never bothered to learn his name. This was just a stepping stone, so my eyes were only ahead. He was just another opponent, after all.

"Introducing in the red corner, fighting out of Courtington Indiana. He stands 5 foot 7 inches tall with a 70-inch reach, weighing in at 175 lbs. He got an undefeated perfect record of 2 wins and 0 losses, both wins coming by way of knock-out, Bran 'No Answer' Langley!" the announcer yelled into the microphone. My introduction was way shorter, I mused.

I turned to Frank, who had just shown up behind my shoulder. "'No answer'? That's supposed to be my nickname?"

"Lewis wanted a nickname on the forms. Hope put 'No Answer'," Frank explained.

"Why?"

"I think she misunderstood what N/A stands for," Frank chuckled, before turning me back to hear the rulings of the ref. Abide my command, defend yourself at all times, yadda yadda.

About a minute later, the influencer lay flat on his back, unable to get up. After I punched him the first time, even if it was just a stiff jab, I could tell he had never been hit that hard. It was over before it had started. He caught my right on the glove, but I saw him wince even still. I punched him hard in the solar plexus, and from there, it was free real estate, as Josh said. Rear hook to the head, and three lead hooks to his liver and he was down and out.

I quickly got my gloves off with the help of Freya and Frank, eager to get out of there, but with my ass halfway out of the ring, some tall dude grabbed hold of me for an in-ring interview. My inexperience in these events shone through.

"Tell me, Mr. No Answer, did you give the audience any answers tonight?" the guy asked, shoving a microphone in my face.

"Just add it to the highlight reels," I breathed, still panting from the adrenaline dump. I gave the guy a nod and was again stopped, as the guy raised my hand for the audience's cheers. At that point, I felt a bit dizzy. I wasn't sure how to take this. I just wanted out of here as quickly as possible, even more so now that the arena filled with people was now cheering.

*

The small gang sitting around in the locker room gave me a small round of applause as I came back. Apparently, our corner hadn't had many victories, so it was a welcome to the folks in the back that I won. Besides, it looked pretty devastating. I looked up at the TV as they replayed how I had battered the guy. I wasn't used to watching myself, but god I was fast. And strong. Never had I looked at myself and thought 'god damn' in awe of myself. It felt good. Like everything I had worked for since I started boxing showed how much I had improved. I actually looked like a real boxer as I landed my three left hooks in slow motion.