Losing The Fight

Dak and Jerome began to wrestle in the water. Playful, then suggestive. Dak pulled Jerome into a hug. Jerome didn't seem to mind at all. Nor did he seem embarrassed when Sarah shouted, "Dak, leave my husband alone! You cad!"

Dak served drinks after lunch. A punch he had made. I stuck to a bottle of beer. The other three drank the punch.

We were all around the pool when Lisa dove in again, and emerged to sit on a chaise lounge with Dak. Dak put his arm around her, and she leaned into him. She seemed loose, unlike before. I had a bad feeling that the bad stuff was about to come down soon.

Lisa pulled Dak in for a kiss. Right in front of me. He kissed her back. He started feeling her tits, and she grabbed his dick through his suit.

I stepped to them quickly and grabbed her around the waist, picked her up over my head, took two steps and threw her into the pool, with a two-handed set shot motion. She sputtered. Dak roared.

"You drugged them. You drugged her. Asshole."

He started toward me. Assumed a fighting stance.

"I'm going to have her, and there's nothing you can do to stop me. You might as well give in."

Lisa screamed, "Don't hurt him Dak! I'll fuck you right now. Just...no reason to fight."

She continued, "Pete, he didn't drug me. I want him so bad. I'm going to let him have me for the rest of the weekend."

Dak stopped advancing. "You're invited to join us. All of us. I know you want this."

"Let's get this over with. No way I let this go. I'm leaving with her, or feet first."

"Have it your way." He snarled. I heard Lisa scream. "Oh my God!"

For a fleeting moment, I wondered what she thought would happen.

Dak advanced. He was careful. I just stood there. We circled, I got up on my toes, dodged to his left and slapped him in with my right hand. He hit me in the shoulder. It hurt like hell, and I backed off. He pursued the advantage, kicked me in the arm, high up.

I went down, rolled away, back on my feet. He came after me. He tried another kick, but it was slow and low. I came inside it and hit him a good shot in the ribs. He slung me to the ground and kicked me in the ribs, but I kicked back, hit him in the kidney area. It had to hurt, but he dove to pin me down. I scrambled away. I was hurt now. But, the rage was there, a good friend, at this moment.

Dak moved after me and I back off, but he cornered me against the pool. He sent a left hand at me, hit me in the cheek. I moved toward him, not away. I shoved him as hard as I could, which was enough to get him off me, and me into the open.

He came again, faked a right, sent a left to my chest. I went down again. I was barely able to get up, but he didn't come in. I started to back off, then went at him hard with a right hand. It hit him on the side of the head, and caused him to blink. But he came again, kicked at my shin. Then he hit me in the arm again, hard enough to knock me over. I got up again, slower. Either of the last two times he could have finished it. He didn't. I recalled how he toyed with his opponents. That's where we were now. He wanted me to stay down. I circled him, more slowly now. He lunged at me with his shoulder, got low and picked me up into the air, tossed me a few feet. I landed on my back, but had enough left to avoid hitting my head. Dak moved in again as I tried to get up. He kicked me in the thigh. The he tried for my head, but got me in the shoulder. I wasn't hitting him now. I was just getting back up. I intended to keep doing that until I could rise no more.

I got knocked down two more times. Punches to the chest, ribs. I went down on my back, tried to roll over to get up. I made it to my knees. Dak walked up. I looked up at him. His look of triumph made me sick, as I crouched there.

Dak smiled. "I'm gonna show you who's boss." He pulled down his trunks. Out came his big cock. It was hard. He was getting off on beating me.

"You're going to suck my cock, right in front of your wife, you motherfucker."

He bent to grab my head, intending to pull me to his dick.

In my whole life, I have never felt something like I felt then. Everything else was a pale comparison to the blinding, red hot rage that filled me, like fuel in a rocket. Dak's hand never got to my head.

I launched myself, headfirst, at Dak's smiling face. Every ounce of rage I had ever stored up came into that lunge. I felt a tremendous jolt.

Then nothing.

(To be continued? Hard to say.)