The young man had finally heeded the advice of his mother, aunt, sister, and just about everyone he knew who didn't enjoy seeing his ass get kicked and violated. He had stepped down from the league. He'd heard Tanya McVan threw a fit over the money she'd lose, but he'd managed to get away with it.
And he just trained. He went to school, a celebrity and actually a better fighter than most of the boys he knew. He practiced wrestling, judo, worked out, and just plain dated some girls for a change. He had grown up, bulked up, and manned up.
And now he was back. Timmy had a gym bag over his strong shoulders, jeans and a plain black shirt over his toned body. His face was still a bit feminine but inarguably handsome and his body athletically muscled. He had gotten playful punches in the arms from friends, openly warning him not to turn them gay. His black hair hung a bit long, hanging slightly in his face as she smiled up a the arena doors. He was 24 now, and he was a real young man now, not a confused boy.
His girlfriend Mona (2 years strong) was proud to see him go back, actually there in the car to drop him off while his was in the shop.
“Have fun, sweetheart. Don’t get beat up your first day,” she giggled. She was a year or two younger than him, white but always gorgeously tan. She had healthy D-cups, which he was always appreciative of. Not the mammoths he’d grown up with, but certainly nothing you’d call small. Her soft lips kissed his, and she brushed her woodsy brown hair from her face.
“Won’t,” he promised. “Like you wouldn’t just finger yourself to that too.” She’d found out about his old videos a bit into their relationship, and she made love to him that night wilder than he’d had. Consensually, anyway.
She drove off as he sighed at the building, his meeting set up with McVan to make his comeback. “I’ve changed,” he admitted. “Let’s see if this place has.” |