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"And what about this spot?" I ask him, touching the worn leather on the side of the bag.
"Liver, spleen, kidney. It doesn't matter how big the other person is, if you punch or kick anyone in that spot, the body immediately curls inside itself to protect your vital organs. It's painful and gives you enough time to do whatever else you have planned for the person."
"Like tying them up?" I ask. Flashes of him holding the razor send goosebumps running up and down my body. My nipples harden at the mental image of him cutting into someone. What the fuck is wrong with me?
"Mio dolce, have you been taught how to throw a punch?"
"No, but I've been in a fight or two as a kid."
He grunts with the corner of his lip turned up. "Not quite the same. For someone like you, you're small, so use that to your advantage. You want to inflict the most amount of pain to give yourself enough time to pull a weapon or get away. Make a fist. Don't tuck your thumb in your palm or you'll break it."
I do as he tells me.
"Spread your feet apart and lead with your hips. Don't pull back or wind up because then the person you're fighting is going to duck out of the way. Go ahead, throw a jab."
I punch directly in front of me, hitting the bag with a pathetic thud.
"Don't be discouraged. It's not going to be a powerful sound. You don't hear the heavy bag and chain dangling in a real fight, Evelyn. You want to hear the sound of bones breaking, which is a lot easier than throwing your weight at the heavy bag. Just so you know, to add weight to your punches, try holding something like a roll of quarters in the palm of your hand. Small enough to ball your fist around, it makes every punch feel like you're swinging a fucking mallet. Try it again."
I do, and this time with his direction, I hit a bit harder, the sound of the bag echoes louder, and I feel like I can do some damage. We go like this for a few minutes, and before long, I'm out of my shirt and ready to spar against him.
He sees it in my eyes and obliges, holding his hand out to the area in front of the bag.
"You can throw punches at full force if you want," he says confidently.
I make the first mistake, pulling back my right arm as if it's going to get more power before I launch my fist directly into his chest. Alessandro smirks as he dodges the blow, whipping around me and slapping my ass.
Thwack!
It stings so good, but I don't want to be distracted.
"That guy pulled a knife on Jenkins, and somehow, I knew he wasn't going to be able to use it as well as you used that razor." I'm attempting to bob and weave, but every punch I throw is blocked or swatted away.
In return for every missed punch, I get a resounding slap on the ass. My eyes trace the outline of his body, so I decide to do something unexpected. My leg comes up, using the top of my foot to kick him in the thigh. He reacts too late, and I land a triumphant hit. While he's shifting to the side of the kick, I throw an uppercut to the left side of his exposed torso.
"Very good, mio dolce." He growls like a lion proud of his lioness. "Come here."
He hooks his index finger under my chin, pulling me in close. Alessandro levels a kiss on me that ignites every feeling I've been fighting during this fight session. He strips me out of my clothes between kisses and carries me over to the bed where I see a switchblade next to his phone.
"Did you use that today? Or just the razor?" I ask him, panting as he peppers my body with kisses that snake their way down to my pussy.
Alessandro pulls up to look at what I'm talking about. The knife is all black, smooth, and cold to the touch as he keeps the blade folded in. He hoists my legs over his shoulders, down on his knees with the knife in his hand.
"You liked the handcuffs too," he says more to himself than to me.
"I did."
"Don't move. Remember our word, mio dolce."
"Fermare." I whisper the word to let him know I remember our word very clearly.
He opens the knife, letting the back of the blade's tip barely scrape the space between my breasts. I shudder and swallow.
"You're getting wet, mio dolce. Interesting. We'll explore more soon enough, but for now, I need to taste you." Alessandro uses his mastery of the blade to swing it around in his hand. It moves around his fingers like liquid as he holds it by the tip and flings it into the corner.
The knife plunges into the punching bag, dead center to the worn out spot that would be the center of someone's face. When I feel the softness of his tongue slipping between my folds, the entire day crashes over me in a wave of trembling bliss.
Alessandro suckles on my clit just enough to get me to come before he stands between my legs, his cock jutting out and ready. I'm ready to inhale every inch, but that's not what he wants. He rubs the tip of his head against my entrance for a few swipes before sinking himself inside my walls. Fuck me, he's thick, stretching me out. My pussy is desperate to hold him there forever.
