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The fist came into Robert Lansing’s cheek, and his head snapped around to the right with the force of the punch.
Damn, didn’t see that one coming.
Sweat flew off his head in an arc landing outside the ropes. He contorted his torso as though he was going down but, at the last minute, charged forward and put a shoulder into the midsection of his opponent, James. The two bodies landed on the mat, grappling for supremacy. Robert rolled onto his back in an open position. While seemingly vulnerable, James’ body covered his and tried to immobilise him.
Okay, it’s time to end this little tussle.
Pulling a little used move out of his arsenal, Robert brought his right leg up between them and pressed his shin against James’ throat, and then wrapping his left leg around the back of the head, he pulled down on his foot. He heard James tap the mat to signal his surrender.
“All right, all right. I give you bastard.”
Robert let go of his foot, and James climbed out from between his legs. “Jesus man, where did you pull that move from?”
“It’s called the gogoplata. Not used very often because of the flexibility required, but all the more effective.”
“I’ll say. You had me pinned in like ten seconds.” James reached down to pull him up onto his feet.
They walked over to the ropes to grab their water bottles. Pulling up on the tip, Robert squeezed the bottle and a cool stream of water refreshed his burning throat. He unscrewed the cap and tilted the rest of the bottle over the top of his head, the water cooling his over-heated skin.
“Defeat me not, oh young one. Much to learn you have,” he said.
James climbed out of the ropes. “Oh God, spare me the Yoda talk. You do realise that seriously dates you, right? Speaking of dates, when is the last time you had one, Obi-Wan?”
Robert pushed James on the back of his shoulder towards the locker room. “You’re confusing your characters, dimwit.”
Looking back over his shoulder, James taunted, “You’re avoiding the question.”
A grimace creased Robert’s forehead and lips. “I have dates. I went to the movies last weekend and to that new bar and grill on Second Avenue the week before.”
“Going with you mom and her boyfriend doesn’t count. I’m talking about calling a person up, picking them up at their house, paying for dinner, and if you play your cards right getting a little action at the end of the evening.”
Robert pushed open the door to the locker room and grabbed a towel off the stack. Circling over to their lockers, they stripped their gloves, shorts and support straps. He walked over to the showers and selected the open head closest to the opposite wall. After flipping his towel on the hook, he turned the spigot. The cold water made him sigh in pleasure and shiver at the same time. He looked over at James, who was using the shower head a few feet over.
“Fine, it’s been awhile.”
“Awhile? Spill it.”
“Fuck! Six months, happy?”
Six months of denying himself. Six months of jacking off in the shower and in bed at night, his imagination filling in the blank slate of his sex life. Nameless features on an unknown man. Only his memory supplied the sensation of a hard chest against his, a thick, long cock to rub against, and the feel of muscular legs wrapped around his hips as he thrust deep in a tight, hot ass or ground into a cotton-sheeted mattress while he’s being stretched by broad blunt fingers. Shaking his head to dispel the images before he threw wood in the shower, he said, “When was the last time you had a real date?”
“I’m married with a new baby, kemo sabe. The most exciting thing I do these days is see specimens previously unknown to human existence inside my kid’s diaper.” James rolled his eyes.
“First of all, that’s just gross. Second, you’re pathetic. We should hit Frank’s tomorrow night. Think you can get enough time off for good behaviour to grab a few beers?”
“Yeah, probably. I think Cindy is taking the baby to her mom’s anyway. I’m always obsolete when we go there.”
They finished their showers then they got dressed and headed for the gym door.
“Damn, feels like that cool front is coming in early. I always thought March meant spring flowers and shit.” James shivered as the cold air blew over his still damp head.
“Maybe in Southern Missouri. Here in Portland, we enjoy a more gradual ascent into spring. It usually arrives sometime in June.”
Robert slapped James on the back and headed for his car. He looked to where James had parked his recently acquired family friendly vehicle and yelled, “Don’t forget! Tomorrow...beer, darts, and pool.”