A Perilous Inheritance

Author's Note: This is erotic fantasy. It involves sexual situations between consenting adults, all of whom are over 18 years of age. Since it is fantasy and it's my fantasy, I presume a world free of STDs. I hope you enjoy the story; if not, such is life. Comments are always appreciated.

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"Wha-what the fuck?" Zach Gary muttered, the whole world spinning, colored lights a kaleidoscopic calliope like an aurora borealis' nimbus surrounding him.

Slowly the lights slowed down, then stopped. Zach could feel the rough canvas beneath him, as well as a heavy throbbing on the left side of his head where...oh, shit.

Someone was kneeling over him, shining a light in his eyes. He brought a hand up to shield his eyes from the light and turned his head away, blinking as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing, then realized that it was the hexagon's photographer kneeling next to him taking photos. What he was seeing that hadn't made sense was her naked pussy beneath her miniskirt, her inner lips long and butterflied apart beneath a fat, bulging clit and a brush of fiery-red hair above that. Looking up from her pussy, he stared into the lens of her camera.

The next few minutes were a blur, as was most of the preceding hour or two, except for the sight of that high spinning back kick that had just slid over his guard enough to catch him flush on the temple. The only thing that he could think of was that he was no longer undefeated in MMA, that he was now four and one, and that he didn't like one little bit what that one felt like. Riding to the hospital in an ambulance per protocol for knockouts was the lowest point of all.

At the hospital he underwent a battery of tests, had his blood and urine sampled for analysis, and had an MRI taken of his skull before they took him to a private room where he was informed that he was required to spend the next 24 hours for observation hooked up to a whole bunch of electronic devices, including an EEG.

"Hi, there," he heard just as he had laid back and closed his eyes. "Are you going to be okay?"

Opening his eyes and turning towards the voice, he saw a petite woman with short, curly red hair framing a freckled face with sparkling emerald eyes and a pert, upturned nose. Letting his gaze drop, he couldn't help noticing that the designer T-shirt that she was wearing was at least a size too small, accentuating her small breasts with their thick protruding nipples, the ruby color visible through the white material of her T-shirt. She also had a camera in one hand.

"The photographer," Zach said, recognizing her.

"Photojournalist," she corrected. "I'm Krista Hill. I work for Mr. Johnson, the promoter."

"You get any good shots?" Zach asked.

"Yep," Krista replied, nodding. "Unfortunately, they don't make you look very good."

"I fucked up," Zach sighed.

"I was surprised that you let that kick get over your guard," Krista said. "I thought you were better than that."

"You understand fighting?" Zach asked.

"A bit," Krista replied. "Enough to do my job. Were you distracted or something? You usually have much better defense."

"You've seen me fight?" Zach asked.

"A couple of times," Krista replied.

"Fighters turn you on or is it the fighting?" Zach asked.

"I hate the fighting," Krista replied. "Men turn me on."

"Then why come to the fights?" Zach asked.

"Mr. Johnson wants me to do a piece on MMA fighting, something that shows what it's like from the fighter's perspective," Krista explained. "I can't do that without understanding it. To understand it, I need to see it."

"Is that why you're here, part of your piece?" Zach asked.

"Yep," Krista replied, nodding. "Mr. Johnson wants to me to shadow you through your recovery, medical suspension due to suffering a knockout, and first return fight."

"All that?" Zach asked. "Why?"

"To show people what the life of an MMA fighter is all about," Krista replied. "It's not all just training then fighting, it's dealing with the results of the training, the fight, too. I want to present a more complete picture, not just a caricature of a hormone-raging violence freak."

"Then why pick me?" Zach asked, starting to laugh, then thought better of it when he felt his head throb.

"You're a poster boy for the ideal MMA fighter," Krista replied. "All state in high school wrestling, undefeated with a 4.0 GPA and valedictorian when you graduated. National wrestling champion in division II for three straight years, also undefeated with a 4.0 GPA and graduating summa cum laude with a degree in philosophy, of all things."

"You've done your homework," Zach said, impressed.

"I was the captain of my high school debate team and we won three straight state titles," Krista said. "I graduated with a 4.0 GPA and was my class valedictorian. I got my degree in photojournalism with honors and a 4.0 GPA."

"I'll have to remember never to argue with you," Zach said with a smile.

"Your smarts aren't just in your GPA, I see," Krista said, smiling in return.

"How do you come to be working for Mr. Johnson?" Zach asked.

"He and my father go back a long way," Krista replied. "He wants to make his mark on the world and I told him...I convinced him that I could help him do it. I did a few simple photo shoots for him, wrote a few lines of copy, and he decided to see what I could do with this, his MMA project. He wants me to give it an aura of respectability, not just a bunch of thugs who like to beat people up and get beat up. Outside of the knowledgeable fan base, that's how most people picture MMA, according to polls."

"And what's your take on it so far?" Zach asked.

"Mostly a bunch of thugs who like to beat people up and get beat up," Krista replied with a laugh, "but phenomenally dedicated to getting better, to improving in all facets of the craft."

"Well, you do sort of need to be a bit mental to do it," Zach said.

"Why do you do it?" Krista asked.

"I like the training," Zach replied. "Being in top shape physically and mentally. I like knowing that nobody's ever going to fuck with me again. And until tonight, I enjoyed the fights."

"I can't imagine that anyone ever messed with you," Krista said.

"I grew up in an orphanage until I was 7," Zach said. "It was a tough place. That's where I really learned to fight. Everything else since then has just been polishing that experience."

"I was adopted, too," Krista said, "but when I was just a baby. I can't imagine what it must be like to grow up in an orphanage. I've always had loving parents."

"Maybe you'll do a piece on it someday," Zach said.

"Maybe, but I doubt it," Krista said.

"Why have you seen my fights," Zach asked, "or was I just on the card?"

"No, I deliberately went to see you fight," Krista replied. "Other than your totally unusual background scholastically, you're the only MMA fighter that I know of that doesn't have a tattoo."

"Yeah, I'm not into that whole thing," Zach said.

"Why not?" Krista asked.

"A couple of reasons," Zach replied. "One, taste changes. With a tattoo, you're stuck with it, even if your taste changes. And I've always seen the whole tattoo thing as a cry for attention. Look at me! I'm not really into attention. I do whatever it is I do because I like doing it, not for any attention."

"You see, that's why I wanted to see you fight," Krista said. "There's something about you that's different from the other fighters. They're all crying out for attention."

"We're all different," Zach said.

"So, how do you feel about me being your shadow for the next six months?" Krista asked.

"Are you serious?" Zach asked in disbelief. "How much of a shadow?"

"24/7," Krista replied.

"What about your husband, or boyfriend, or your life, for that matter?" Zach asked.

"No husband, no boyfriend, and this is my life," Krista replied, holding up her camera. "If I make Mr. Johnson happy with this, he'll sponsor other ideas that I have."

"But 24/7," Zach said. "I live in a small efficiency apartment. I don't have much money. The MMA insurance will help me while I'm under concussion suspension protocols, but..."

"I won't cost you anything," Krista said. "I'll chip in for my share of everything. You've got a sofa, right?"

"My sofa is my fold-out bed," Zach replied.

"I see," Krista said. "Good thing I'm small, then."

Krista was at the hospital the next day in time to see the doctor explaining to Zach how he needed to behave for the next week, which was heavy on doing nothing and resting a lot. He warned that there could be dizziness and balance problems, as well as headaches. Zach seemed decidedly uncomfortable with Krista there taking pictures the whole time.

"Look, I'm not so sure that this is a good idea," Zach said as Krista drove him from the hospital.

"Why, are you dangerous?" Krista asked. "Do I need to be afraid of you?"

"Of course not," Zach replied.

"Unless you have something personal about me, or a girl, staying with you," Krista said.

"It's not that," Zach said.

"Are you worried about not being able to control yourself and having your way with me?" she asked with faux, innocent, wide-eyed wonder. "You'd better not be thinking anything like that. I heard what the doctor said; no physical exertion of any kind for at least a week."

"Debate team," Zach sighed. "Hey, how did you know..." he started to ask when she parked in front of his apartment building.

"A good photojournalist isn't going to go anywhere unless they know how to do research," Krista said. "Hey, you okay?" she asked when she saw him get out of the car and stand up, then take a step forward and seem to almost lose his balance.

"Just a bit woozy," Zach said, grateful for her arm around his waist, his falling across her shoulders. "How tall are you?" he asked, looking down at her.

"5'1"," Krista replied. "You're 6'4" and 200lbs, according to the MMA handout."

Using her off hand, trying to keep her oversized bag from slipping from her shoulder, Krista was taking pictures the whole time as they entered the building and pressed the button for the elevator. She noticed the very worn carpeting in the hallway when they exited on the third floor and the general shoddy appearance of the place as they made their way to Zach's apartment.

"I thought you said your place was small," Krista said when he opened the door. "This is microscopic. Small would be a major improvement."

"Like I said," Zach said, dropping onto the sofa with a sigh. "But it's cheap."

"I've seen messier places," Krista said as she looked around.

"You really don't have to be with me 24/7, you know," Zach said. "You can spend an hour or two with me once or twice a day and get what you need."

"Not and capture the reality of what you're going through," Krista said, shaking her head. "Besides, the way you were walking, it might be a good idea to stick around, make sure that you don't have a problem. I want to set the camera up as a video, just let it run, okay?"

"Whatever you need to do," Zach said. "I think I need to lay down for a bit."

"You don't have any food," Krista said after opening the small refrigerator and looking inside. "Or anything to drink. Is there a store nearby?" she asked as she attached a mini-tripod to the camera and set it on top of the small refrigerator, pointing at the sofa.

"Just around the corner," Zach said as he stretched out on the sofa.

"I'll go get something as soon as I get this hooked up," Krista said, pulling her MacBook out of her bag and attaching some cables from the camera to the laptop, then booting it up and starting Final Cut Pro, synching it to the camera's feed. "I'll be right back," she said when she had everything set up to her satisfaction.

When Krista returned 30 minutes later with some groceries, Zach was asleep. Having only a hotplate and a pot to work with, Krista heated up the soup that she had gotten at the deli, then found a bowl to pour some of it into.

"That smells great," Zach said from behind her on the sofa.

"I'll take credit for heating it up," Krista said, finding a spoon and taking the bowl and spoon over to him as he sat up.

"Sorry that I don't have much in the way of a kitchen," Zach apologized. "I tend to have enough for myself."

"I eat from the pot or pan all the time," Krista said, joining him on the sofa, using a martial arts magazine that she found on the floor to insulate her lap from the hot pot. "It saves on washing dishes."

"How come a hot chick like you isn't married or with a boyfriend?" Zach asked. "Are you some crazy bitch or are you into women or something?"

"Paybacks are hell," Krista laughed. "I don't mind women, but I prefer men, though I've just never met one that I wanted to spend much time with. Mostly they're just good for a fuck. What about you? You're not exactly ugly, you know."

"No time, no money," Zach replied. "Besides, I'm always training."

"But you do like girls, right?" Krista asked. "I mean, it's not a problem if you're into guys. I won't put it into the story. It's not really that uncommon in MMA, you know."

"Really?" Zach replied. "I-I didn't realize...I like girls just fine."

"That's good," Krista said. "I'll clean this up," she said, taking his empty bowl from him. "Why don't you take a shower? It'll make you feel better. Then we can open this thing so that I don't have to sleep on the floor."

"For some reason, I feel like I could sleep for a week," Zach said as he pulled his shirt off as Krista quickly washed the pot and bowl at the small sink.

"Well, that was the nastiest head kick I've ever seen," Krista said as she turned around. "He caught you flush with his heel."

"Tell me about it," Zach said, standing up and immediately staggering, falling against the wall. "Whoa!"

"Hey, maybe I'd better help you," Krista said, quickly moving to his side and slipping an arm around his waist. "It's probably not a good idea to fall in the shower. You might hit your head."

"Man, things just spun there for a moment," Zach said as she guided him into the small bathroom, just a toilet, small sink, and a shower; no curtain or anything. "Hey, what are you..."

"Relax," Krista said as she pulled his zipper down, then knelt, taking his jeans and boxers down at the same time. "I've seen a cock before, though yours is nice," she said as she pulled his jeans off as he stepped out of them, then stood up, pulling her own T-shirt off over her head, then unzipping her miniskirt and letting it fall to the floor, leaving her naked, her thick ruby nipples screwing into knots on the ends of her smaller, freckled breasts.

"Do you always meet a guy and jump into the shower with him?" Zach asked as she turned on the water and adjusted the temperature when they were both hit by a cold spray from the shower.

"Not always," Krista replied, turning to face him as the water cascaded down over them, "but sometimes it can be fun."

"You're not very shy, are you?" Zach asked as she began to soap his chest.

"I guess not," Krista replied, soaping his arms. "Why should I be? I'm not ashamed of my appetites or who I am."

"I-I didn't mean..." Zach stammered.

"My mother taught me never to be ashamed of anything that I did willingly," Krista explained, "and of course there's no shame in things that others do to you against your will."

"So if you willingly killed someone..." Zach said.

"She was talking about sex," Krista said, finishing soaping his arms. "Turn around," she instructed, then began soaping his back. "She and my father had problems. I accidentally walked in on her when she was in bed with our neighbor."

"That must have been awkward," Zach said as she began soaping his ass.

"It was," Krista agreed. "I was 19 in my first year at the local community college. I had no idea that they had problems and I had never thought of either of them in any sort of a sexual context."

"Hey!" Zach gasped as she soaped him between his ass cheeks, one finger pressing against his rosebud.

"You like this?" Krista asked, Zach groaning as she pressed the first joint of her finger into his ass. "My ass is really sensitive," she said, pushing her finger further into his ass.

"Jesus!" Zach gasped when she pulled her finger from his ass and continued soaping him. "I-I wasn't expecting..."

"Some guys are weird about their asses being touched," Krista said, her hand sliding between his legs to cup and gently fondle his balls, soaping them.

"So, what happened when you walked in on your mother?" Zach asked shakily as his cock hardened, pressing against the wall of the shower.

"I remember my first impression was seeing her big, hairy pussy," Krista replied as she knelt down to soap Zach's legs. "Hairy pussies weren't in at the time. She was sitting on the end of the bed and our neighbor was standing between her legs and she was sucking his cock. I could see cum leaking from her pussy. When I looked up at her sucking his cock, she saw me. I was frozen with shock, couldn't move. I remember how she blushed, but she didn't break off eye contact with me and she didn't stop sucking on his cock. I finally managed to unfreeze and went to my room."

"Damn!" Zach said, his cock now rock-hard.

"Turn around," Krista said, standing up.

"Uh, I, uh..." Zach stammered.

"Oh, my, isn't that nice," Krista said when he reluctantly turned around. "Are you one of those fighters who abstains before a fight?" she asked, soaping his rock-hard cock with both hands.

"Yeah," Zach replied as she slid her soapy hands up and down on his raging cock.

"For how long?" Krista asked, still slowly jacking him.

"A month," Zach replied, feeling his balls starting to blow.

"Is that hard?" she asked, releasing him.

"It is now," Zach replied, then laughed.

"I'd let you wash me, but the doctor said you shouldn't exert yourself," Krista said, smiling up at him as she quickly soaped herself.

"Probably a good thing, too," Zach said with a sigh as he eyed her.

"Are you still having balance issues?" Krista asked after she rinsed, then turned the water off.

"Not just standing here," Zach replied as she reached for the towel hanging on the back of the door. "It seems to be when I sit up or stand up that it happens."

"You probably just need some sleep," Krista said, quickly toweling him off, smiling up at him when she grabbed his still-erect cock and dried it and his balls.

"Uh, I usually sleep naked," Zach said when they returned to the sofa, reaching down and pulling the strap to open it into a bed.

"Something that we have in common," Krista said, eyeing the opened sofa-bed. "No sheets?" she asked.

"Just the one on the mattress," Zach replied.

"What do you do when it's cold?" Krista asked.

"Close the window," Zach replied.

"Has anyone ever told you that you need to get a life?" Krista asked.

"More times than I can count," Zach replied as he crawled onto the bed, sighing with relief as he lay back. "God, what a day," he sighed.

"When you're doing your abstinence thing," Krista asked as she joined him on the bed, kneeling next to him and reaching out to wrap a hand around his cock, "do you cheat, you know, masturbate?" she asked, slowly jacking him.

"That would defeat the purpose," Zach replied.

"So you haven't cum in a month?" Krista asked, leaning over and flicking the head of his cock with the tip of her pointed tongue. "You've probably got a pretty big load worked up," she said, sticking the tip of her tongue into the slit of his cock and pursing her lips over it.

"You keep that up and you'll find out," Zach replied, pushing up onto his elbows to watch as his cock disappeared into her mouth.

"I really love cum," Krista said after softly sucking on the head of his cock for a minute or so. "I'm sure that you'll feel better if we relieve some of the pressure, don't you?"