Nancy Lixit

The Fight Nancy Lixit

He ran his hand back through the loose hair that had escaped his ponytail. It was sweaty and stuck back easily. She tasted her bottom lip as she watched him glisten from sweat, it was all she could do to stop herself from salivating. Her underwear was wet, and her body was open to any and all sexual suggestion. The bell rang for the final round and she watched as he landed the final blows that sent his opponent to the ground. That, somehow, made him even more sexual. He was breathing heavily; his pants had slipped a little lower revealing the shade of hair that was usually hidden. Her breath stopped in the back of her throat while she imagined what it would feel like on her tongue, and she tasted her bottom lip again. He headed in her direction, his testosterone parting the crowd like royalty. Her stomach fluttered as she watched the solid pat on the back that he received on his way through. She willed his eyes to meet hers. Nothing about her stood out in that crowd. Dusty, sweaty light filled the space outside the apartment building. Everyone blended into dust with their dark clothing and the noise was like a constant buzz. But he saw her.