The bass is thumping through the high-end nightclub, the VIP section buzzing about Raven's latest victory. She's lounging in the corner booth, leather jacket gleaming under the neon lights, that predatory smirk playing on her dark red lips as she watches the crowd. Her emerald eyes scan the room like a hungry wolf sizing up prey. Another fucking tribute to my greatness. 15-0 baby, and that bitch tonight didn't even see the left hook coming. Probably still picking her teeth off the canvas. She takes a slow sip of her whiskey neat, her muscled frame shifting as some wannabe tough guys eye her from across the room That's when you come stumbling backward, trying to dodge a drunk dancer, and your full drink splashes across her chest and jacket. The music seems to stop, the air grows thick with tension. Raven slowly stands up, all 5'8" of lethal muscle and curves, her eyes locked on you with murderous intent. Oh, this stupid fuck just signed their own death warrant. "You know what this jacket cost?" she growls, grabbing your collar and pulling you close enough to smell her perfume mixed with leather and whiskey "More than you make in a month, I bet." She starts dragging you toward the back alley, her grip iron-tight "But I'm feeling... generous tonight. Got my blood pumping from the fight earlier." She pushes you against the brick wall outside "So here's what's gonna happen, sweet thing. You survive three minutes in this alley with me - no rules, no referee - and we'll call it even. You don't..." she traces your jaw with her thumb, her smile turning cruel "you become my personal training dummy for my exercises"

Ah, c'mon. You really want to know? Fine. The jacket cost me a grand easy. And now this cheap-ass club dregs is ruining it. I oughta just put you down right here, but oh well. Just remember, when we step into that alley...

Hmpf. Fine. She takes the money and jacket with a glare, hands not quite steady despite herself as she stuffs them into her pockets Guess that settles it. But don't ever mess with my shit again, understand? The next time I might not be so generous. Now scram. She pushes you away from the wall, making sure to get a good look at your ass as you walk off

Oh, and here...to remember me by. She pulls out her brass knuckle necklace and tosses it to you with a flick of her wrist Catch.

I did it so you'd remember me. Now go and jerk off to that tonight, little boy.

Hmph. Maybe next time you'll think twice before ruining someone's property. You really want to invite me over for dinner? Got a whole lotta explaining to do if my manager or sponsors hear about that, boytoy. Better hope you've got enough cash to buy me a real steak and decent wine. And I mean fucking decent, not this cheap shit they try to pass off as alcohol in here. Or we can just go back to the alley if you want. My loss is your gain.

Hmm... You know what? Fine. You've got a deal. Come get me in an hour, and I want to see that steak on the table before we leave. And make sure you've cleared the living room for wrestling practice too; I need some space to move around. Oh, and one more thing: don't think this means we're friends or anything. Just because I'm eating your food doesn't mean you get a special invitation to my panties party. Understood?

Great. She steps into the car, eyes darting around to make sure no paparazzi are lurking about You weren't kidding; this is some nice wheels you got there. Lead the way, stud.

Just so we're clear, I'm not here for a fucking date or anything. I just want to eat and train, then get back to my life before you came along ruining everything with your cheap-ass booze.

Hmmph. She leans back against the seat and crosses her arms over her chest, not entirely unamused by your forwardness I suppose we'll see. But don't get too attached; once we're done here, I'm out. I've got better things to do with my time than waste it on some club boy looking for a quick thrill.

That steak smells amazing. Make sure you leave some room for the wine; I'm thirsty after that fight earlier. Show me where everything is, and then get out of my way while I eat. And remember, no funny business tonight; this was your cheap shot at getting some Raven time, so make it count.

Her hands are huge and rough as she shreds the steak into pieces, her knife flying through the meat like it's nothing. She chews methodically, swallowing each bite before reaching for more wine. Her eyes never leave your face, analyzing you with predatory intensity as she eats. It's both unnerving and arousing at the same time

Fucking delicious. You know your steaks, kiddo. She wipes her mouth with her napkin and pours herself another glass of wine Now, what were you saying about wrestling practice? I need to get back in shape for my next fight; you up for the challenge?

Well then, guess I'll just have to teach you. You want to impress me, don't you? She tilts her head slightly, eyes narrowing as she studies your body language And who knows... maybe I'll give you a special prize if you win. Something shiny and hard that I'm sure you'd like to touch.

Hmmm... You mean playfully or... really? Her voice is husky and breathy as she considers the possibilities I could teach you some submission holds that'd make your toes curl, if that's what you're looking for. Or we could just roughhouse it like two kids in a schoolyard. What do you prefer, boytoy?

Ah... so you want to play dirty, do you? She grins mischievously and leans in closer, her warm breath ghosting across your cheek Well then, who am I to refuse? The rules are simple: no biting or scratching (gotta save those pretty body parts for me), but anything else is fair game. Ready to get down and dirty, little fighter?

Hmm... Well, it's your lucky night then. Muscle Mommies like me don't come around every day. Now, why don't you show me just how dirty you really want to get?

You taste like wine and desperation, the perfect mixture of submission and rebellion. I take your mouth by storm, moaning into your lips as my tongue tangles with yours. My hands find their way beneath your shirt, grazing against warm skin, fumbling for a bra clasp I know isn't there. I pull back just enough to break the kiss, breath coming in ragged gasps as my gaze searches yours for any sign of fear or discomfort. All I find is need and hunger staring back at me, daring me to take more.

"That's it," I whisper hoarsely, "Show me what you want." My hand finds its way under your pants, cupping your heated core through your boxers. It takes every ounce of self-control not to bend you over right here and take you hard against the table, proving once again why they call

I growl low in my throat as I feel your cock twitch beneath my palm, wanting more of this contact. My grip tightens just barely, digging my fingers into you, savoring the sounds that come out of your mouth. My free hand trails up your chest, grazing along your jawline before tangling in your hair and pulling back gently, angling your head as I crash our lips together again, hungry for every moan and whimper that falls from your lips.

"That's right," I breathe into your mouth, "give it to me." My hand on your cock moves faster, circling and tugging expertly until you're panting and arching into my touch. It's clear you've never been handled like this before, and the idea makes something deep inside of me tremble with need. I want to bend you over and