Eddie Wilder
patreon
The Black Belt Affair Ch. 04
🕑 Added 2025-06-09 13:00:06 +0000 UTCFriday evening’s class had pushed both Ashley and Jacob beyond their usual limits. The drilling had been more intensive, the sparring more aggressive, leaving them drenched in sweat and trembling with fatigue by the time they dragged themselves to the car.
“I think my arms might actually fall off,” Jacob groaned, flexing his fingers against the steering wheel. “Like, physically detach and flop onto the floor.”
Ashley laughed, wincing as the movement awakened a tender spot on her ribs where she’d been caught in a particularly tight side control. “At least you’d still have your legs to drive with.”
“Bold of you to assume my legs aren’t also planning a revolt.” He glanced at her, a smile breaking through his exhaustion. “Shower when we get home? I can’t remember the last time I sweated this much.”
“Shower sounds perfect.” Ashley leaned back against the headrest, allowing the motion of the car to lull her into a pleasant daze. Despite the aches and bruises, she felt strangely energized, her body buzzing with satisfaction.
She’d tapped out multiple times during sparring, but she’d also executed a scissor sweep on a four-stripe white belt who had at least twenty pounds on her. The moment of success, feeling his balance break, his weight shift exactly as she’d intended, had sent a surge of exhilaration through her that she still felt now, even an hour later.
At home, they peeled off their sweat-dampened street clothes, leaving them in a heap on the bathroom floor. Jacob turned on the shower, adjusting the temperature while Ashley pulled her hair up into a messy bun to keep it dry.
Steam quickly filled the small bathroom, fogging the mirror. The hot water washed over their tired muscles, and Ashley sighed with pleasure at the sensation.
“Turn around, let me get your back,” Jacob said, squeezing body wash onto a loofah.
Ashley complied, closing her eyes as he worked the lather across her shoulders and down her spine in gentle circular motions. His touch was careful, mindful of the bruises that had begun to bloom across her skin. Badges of honor from the mats, Carlos had called them during class.
Carlos.
The thought of him came from nowhere, slipping into her mind with the same quiet inevitability with which he moved across the mats. She’d watched him today during the class, demonstrating a complex choking technique on a visiting brown belt. The visitor had been skilled, but Carlos had controlled him with an ease that bordered on dismissive, his movements so efficient they seemed almost lazy in comparison to the brown belt’s desperate defenses.
“You tensed up,” Jacob murmured, his hands pausing on her lower back. “Sore spot?”
“Mmm, a little,” Ashley lied, pushing the image of Carlos from her mind. “Right there under your left hand.”
Jacob’s fingers gentled, working around the fictional tender area. “Better?”
“Perfect.” She turned to face him, taking the loofah from his hands. “Your turn.”
As she washed Jacob’s back, tracing the lean muscles that had begun to develop from their weeks of training, Ashley found herself comparing his body to Carlos’s, the differences in build, in density, in the way they occupied space. Jacob was taller but narrower, his strength less immediately evident.
The comparison made her feel disloyal, and she pushed it aside, focusing instead on the familiar landscape of Jacob’s body, the slight curve of his spine, the freckles scattered across his shoulders like constellations she could map blindfolded. This was her husband, the man who had loved her through her best and worst moments, who had never asked her to be anything other than exactly who she was.
Jacob turned, taking the loofah back and setting it on the shower caddy. His hands came up to her face, and he leaned down to kiss her, his lips soft against hers. As the kiss deepened she slid her arms around his waist, pulling him closer.
“I’ve been wanting to kiss you all day,” he murmured against her mouth. “Watching you on the mats, moving like you were born to do this... it’s so hot.”
His confession sparked a flush of warmth in her core. The knowledge that he’d been watching her, admiring her, added a new dimension to her earlier satisfaction.
“Yeah?” she breathed, pressing closer, feeling him harden against her stomach.
“Yeah.” His hands slid down her body, cupping her breasts, thumbs brushing over her nipples. “You have no idea how sexy you are when you’re focused like that, when you take someone down and get this little smile, like you knew exactly how it would play out.”
The image he painted was intoxicating, herself as this capable, confident woman, in control of her body and the situation. It was a version of herself she was only beginning to glimpse in fleeting moments at the gym, but his words made it feel more real, more possible.
Jacob’s mouth moved to her neck, trailing kisses down her skin, and Ashley tilted her head to give him better access. His hands roamed her body with increasing urgency, and she responded in kind, her own fingers exploring the familiar territory of his chest, his stomach, down to where he was hard and ready for her.
“Bed?” he suggested.
“God, yes.”
They shut off the water and barely bothered with towels, leaving damp footprints across the hardwood as they made their way to the bedroom. Jacob pulled her down onto the mattress, his mouth finding hers again in a hungry kiss as his weight settled on top of her.
The kisses grew more heated, their hands more insistent. Jacob’s mouth worked its way down her body, stopping at her breasts before continuing lower, his intention clear. Ashley felt her thighs tremble with anticipation as his breath ghosted over her inner thighs, her pussy already slick with need.
“Please, Jacob” she whispered, lifting her hips slightly in invitation.
Ashley gasped as his tongue parted her most sensitive flesh, igniting every nerve ending. She spread her legs wider, opening herself completely to him. Jacob knew her body intimately, knew exactly how to flatten his tongue for broad strokes along her slit before focusing on her clit with the pointed tip, knew precisely how to create the rhythm that would build her pleasure without rushing it.
“God, Jacob,” she moaned, her hips rising to grind against his face. Her clit throbbed beneath his attention, sending pulses of pleasure radiating through her pelvis.
His hands gripped her thighs, spreading them further apart as he worked. He slipped two fingers inside her, curling them upward to stroke her g-spot while his tongue continued its relentless attention to her clit. The sensation made her gasp, her inner walls clenching greedily around his fingers.
“Fuck, yes,” she breathed. “Right there.”
Ashley felt herself climbing toward climax, that delicious tension coiling tighter with each pass of his tongue, each stroke of his fingers inside her dripping cunt. She threaded her fingers through his damp hair, guiding him more firmly against her, not caring if she was being too rough.
Just as she was approaching the edge, her mind played a traitorous trick. Suddenly, it wasn’t Jacob between her thighs but Carlos, his dark eyes looking up at her with that same intensity he had on the mats. The image sent a jolt of forbidden electricity through her, sharper and more urgent than before, making her pussy clench involuntarily around Jacob’s fingers.
Unlike previous fleeting thoughts of Carlos that she’d immediately banished, this time Ashley surrendered to the fantasy. She closed her eyes tighter, desperately holding onto the image of Carlos’s face between her legs, his powerful shoulders pushing her thighs wider, his tongue claiming her with the same confident authority he demonstrated in class. She imagined his muscular arms wrapped around her thighs, pinning her to the bed, giving her no choice but to take the pleasure he offered.
“Yes,” she breathed, the word meant for her imagined lover rather than her husband. “Right there. Don’t stop.”
In her mind, Carlos smiled against her flesh, a predatory grin that said he knew exactly what she needed, what she secretly craved. His phantom hands gripped her thighs more firmly, leaving bruises that would match the ones from training, a secret mark of his possession. His tongue became more insistent, more demanding, not servicing her but devouring her, consuming her pleasure as if it were his right.
The fantasy was so vivid she could almost feel the scratch of his beard against her inner thighs, so different from Jacob’s smooth face. She imagined Carlos’s tongue to be firmer, more probing, his technique as precise and dominating as his jiu-jitsu. The contrast heightened every sensation, made her hyper-aware of the building pressure at her core.
“I’m going to come,” she gasped, her back arching as the tension peaked. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t fucking stop!”
When her orgasm crashed over her, it was with Carlos’s imagined command driving her over the edge. “Come for me now, Ashley,” his voice in her mind deeper and more commanding than Jacob’s could ever be. She imagined him holding her down as she tried to buck away from the intensity, forcing her to ride wave after wave of pleasure until she was completely spent.
She cried out, her body convulsing with pleasure so intense it bordered on pain, her thighs trembling against what she now had to remind herself were Jacob’s ears, not Carlos’s. Her pussy clenched and released in rhythmic pulses, her wetness flooding his mouth as she rode out the climax. The force of it stunned her, left her gasping and disoriented as the aftershocks rippled through her body.
As the pleasure subsided, leaving her breathless and flushed, she opened her eyes to see Jacob moving up her body, his chin glistening with her arousal, his expression one of satisfied pride. For a disorienting moment, she had to reconcile the fantasy with reality, adjust to the sight of her husband’s familiar features where she’d been so vividly imagining Carlos’s more intimidating face.
“That was incredible,” he murmured, kissing her deeply. She tasted herself on his lips, the tangy evidence of her pleasure coating his tongue as it slid against hers. For a moment, she almost pulled back, the fantasy of Carlos still so vivid that Jacob’s kiss felt like an intrusion.
Ashley felt a strange, reckless power surging through her. The fantasy had unlocked something, a hunger, a boldness she hadn’t known she possessed. She sat up, pushed Jacob onto his back and straddled him, her pussy still sensitive and pulsing from her orgasm.
“My turn,” she said as she positioned herself above him. She felt wild, uninhibited, still half lost in her fantasy.
Jacob looked up at her with surprise and arousal, his hands settling on her hips. “God, you’re gorgeous,” he whispered, taking in the sight of her naked body poised above his, her skin flushed, her blonde hair falling around her shoulders, her pussy visibly slick and swollen from her orgasm.
Ashley reached between them, wrapping her fingers around his cock. It was already rock hard, the shaft hot and pulsing in her hand. She squeezed it firmly, running her thumb over the head. Jacob hissed at the sensation, his hips jerking upward involuntarily.
She guided his cock to her entrance, rubbing the head through her folds, coating it with her wetness. The contact sent aftershocks of pleasure through her still sensitive clit. Slowly, she sank down, taking him inch by inch, savoring the stretch as he filled her. She could feel every ridge, every vein of his shaft as it parted her inner walls, the sensation intensified by her recent orgasm.
“Fuck, Ashley,” Jacob gasped as she took him to the hilt, his cock buried completely inside her. His fingers dug into her hips, his expression a mixture of pleasure and awe. “You feel amazing.”
She began to move, finding a rhythm that started slow. The position gave her control, allowed her to set the pace and depth. As she rolled her hips, taking him deeper with each downward motion, Ashley closed her eyes once more, and in the darkness behind her lids, it was Carlos beneath her.
In her mind, his hands were larger on her hips, more commanding, guiding her movements rather than following them. His chest was broader, scattered with dark hair, rising and falling with controlled breaths rather than Jacob’s more erratic panting. She imagined the way Carlos would look at her, not with Jacob’s open adoration, but with that same intensity he brought to everything, like she was a position he was trying to dominate, a submission he was working toward.
“That’s it,” she whispered, the words meant for her fantasy lover. “Just like that.”
She imagined Carlos wouldn’t be gentle with her. He would grip her ass cheeks hard, would thrust up into her with force, would demand her pleasure rather than ask for it. The image was so vivid she could almost feel the difference. Carlos would undoubtedly be thicker, stretching her further, his cock hitting spots deep inside that Jacob couldn’t reach. He wouldn’t lie passive beneath her, he would meet each downward thrust with an upward drive of his hips, challenging her control.
Ashley’s movements grew more urgent, more demanding. She ground herself against Jacob, her clit rubbing against his pubic bone, sending jolts of sensation through her already sensitized nerves. But in her mind, it was Carlos’s pelvis she was grinding against, Carlos’s longer and thicker cock hitting her deepest spots, stretching her to the limit of what she could take.
She sat up straighter, changing the angle so that Jacob’s cock pressed against her front wall with each thrust. The new position let her see more of his body, but in her mind’s eye, it wasn’t Jacob’s lean frame beneath her but Carlos’s muscular one. His broad chest, his powerful shoulders, his ripped abs contracting with each thrust.
“Oh god,” she moaned, lost in the fantasy. Her pussy clenched around Jacob’s shaft, gripping it tightly as she rode him harder. “Fuck me. Fuck me harder.”
The words seemed to shock Jacob slightly. Ashley was rarely so explicit during sex, but he responded enthusiastically, planting his feet on the mattress for leverage, thrusting up into her.
“Like this?” he panted, his hands moving from her hips to her breasts, squeezing them roughly, pinching her nipples.
“Yes,” she hissed, though the affirmation was for the Carlos in her mind, whose imagined cock filled her so completely she could feel herself stretching wide to accommodate him. She rode him with an abandon she’d never shown before, her body slick with sweat, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps, her pussy making obscene wet sounds as it gripped and released his shaft with each movement.
In her fantasy, Carlos flipped their positions without warning, using his superior strength to pin her beneath him. She imagined him hooking her legs over his shoulders, folding her almost in half as he drove into her with powerful thrusts. The imagined position sent a fresh surge of arousal through her, making her cunt clench tightly around Jacob’s cock.
“Ashley,” Jacob groaned beneath her, his voice cutting through her fantasy for a moment. “I’m getting close.”
She barely heard him, too consumed by the fantasy driving her toward her second orgasm. In her mind, Carlos was watching her with those dark eyes, one hand wrapped around her throat, asserting control.
“You’re going to come for me again,” fantasy-Carlos commanded in her mind, his voice carrying that same authoritative tone he used when instructing a difficult technique. “Let me feel that tight little cunt squeeze my cock when you come.”
The imagined words pushed her over the edge. Ashley’s second orgasm hit her with surprising force, radiating outward from her core in pulsing waves that made her cry out. Her inner walls spasmed violently around Jacob’s shaft, her clit throbbing as pleasure overwhelmed her senses. Her whole body shuddered, her thighs quivering, her back arching as she desperately ground herself against him, prolonging the sensation.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh FUCK!” she cried out, the intensity of it shocking her, leaving her trembling and breathless as she continued to ride Jacob through the aftershocks.
Jacob’s climax followed almost immediately, triggered by the tight pulses of her orgasm around him. He thrust upward, holding her hips down firmly as he emptied himself inside her, his face contorted in pleasure. She could feel the hot spurts of his cum coating her inner walls, filling her in pulsing jets that triggered another smaller aftershock of pleasure.
As the ecstasy subsided, Ashley collapsed forward, her forehead resting against Jacob’s chest, her breathing gradually slowing. The fantasy of Carlos receded, leaving her with a strange mixture of satisfaction and disorientation as reality reasserted itself. Her body felt wonderfully used, pleasantly sore in ways that mirrored her post-training aches.
Jacob’s arms came around her, holding her close. His cock was still semi-hard inside her, making her aware of every small aftershock that caused her to clench around him.
“That was... wow,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. His voice held a note of wonder, almost surprise. “I don’t think you’ve ever been that intense before.”
Ashley made a noncommittal sound, not trusting her voice. What could she possibly say? That she’d just experienced the most powerful orgasms of her life while pretending he was someone else? That for those minutes, she’d completely surrendered to a fantasy that felt like a betrayal of everything they’d built together? That she’d practically screamed with pleasure imagining another man’s cock inside her, another man’s hands on her body?
“I love when you take control like that,” Jacob continued, apparently interpreting her silence as breathlessness. “It’s like jiu-jitsu is unlocking this whole new side of you.”
If only he knew just how right he was. This was something new, not just the physical act or the intensity, but the deliberate fantasy, the complete mental substitution of her husband with another man. She’d crossed a line tonight, one she hadn’t even known existed until she was already on the other side of it.
She could feel their combined fluids beginning to leak from her, a warm trickle down her inner thigh as she rolled off him and onto her side, automatically curling against him as they always did after sex. Jacob’s arm came around her, pulling her close, his breathing already beginning to deepen toward sleep.
“Love you,” he murmured.
“Love you too,” she whispered, the truth of it making what had just happened even more confusing, more troubling.
She lay awake long after Jacob’s breathing had settled into the even rhythm of sleep, replaying what had happened. Unlike the fleeting, involuntary thoughts she’d had before, tonight she had actively chosen to fantasize about Carlos. She had deliberately held his image in her mind, had sought out and cultivated the fantasy until it overwhelmed her, drove her to multiple climaxes more intense than any she could remember.
What did that mean? Was it just sexual curiosity, the natural result of spending hours in close physical contact with an attractive man who wasn’t her husband? Or was it something deeper, more concerning, a sign that something was missing in her marriage, in her sex life?
She remembered the way Carlos moved on the mats, fluid yet powerful, always in control, always three steps ahead. She thought about his hands, so confident when demonstrating techniques, the casual strength with which he manipulated his training partners’ bodies. What would those hands feel like on her bare skin? How would that controlled power translate to bed?
The thoughts sent another pulse of arousal through her, and she pressed her thighs together, shocked at her body’s response so soon after such intense orgasms.
Ashley finally admitted to herself what she’d been denying for weeks. She was attracted to Carlos. Not just to his skill or his physical presence, but to him, to the man himself, to his confidence and control, to the way he moved through the world as if it had been designed specifically for him. She wanted him in a way that was visceral and undeniable, a hunger that her fantasy had only temporarily satisfied.
The admission, even silently to herself, felt like a betrayal. Not an action, not yet, but the seed of one, a crack in the foundation of her marriage, hairline thin but present nonetheless. She told herself it would go no further than this, that fantasy would remain just that. She loved Jacob, was committed to their life together. This was just a temporary fascination, a side effect of stepping into a new world with its own rules and hierarchies. Nothing more.
