"Okay," she says.
"I'm going to demonstrate," I say. "And then you're going to practice on me."
I move behind her.
My cock is pressing against my shorts now, not fully hard but getting there, and I am deeply grateful that she can't see me from this angle. I stop a foot behind her, close enough to teach but not close enough to touch.
"I'm going to grab you," I say. "Arms around your body, pinning your arms. This is the most common rear attack position. When I do, I want you to notice where my weight is, where my balance is. Don't panic. Just notice."
"Okay," she says again.
I step forward and wrap my arms around her.
My cock goes fully hard the moment I make contact.
Fuck.
I'm pressing against her back, my chest against her shoulders, my arms around her body, and she's so much smaller than me that I could lift her off the ground without effort. She's soft everywhere I'm hard, warm everywhere I'm touching her, and my brain is immediately doing the thing where it supplies helpful images of other ways I could be holding her, other positions where her back is against my chest.
Focus.
"Feel where my balance is," I say, and my voice comes out rougher than I intend. "My weight is forward. I'm leaning into you. That's your advantage."
She's breathing faster. I can feel it, the rise and fall of her chest against my forearms.
"Now," I say, "you're going to drop your weight suddenly. Bend your knees, drop straight down. It'll surprise me, break my balance. Then you drive your elbow back into my ribs, hard as you can. That creates space. Then you turn and run."
I let her go and step back.
My cock is throbbing now, pressed uncomfortably against my shorts, and I am extremely aware that if she turns around right now she's going to see exactly how not-professional I'm being about this.
She doesn't turn around immediately. She's standing there processing what I just showed her, and I take the opportunity to adjust myself as subtly as possible, trying to shift my cock into a position that's less obscene.
It doesn't help much.
"Your turn," I say. "Grab me from behind."
She turns around and looks at me, and something flickers across her face. I don't know what it is. Nervousness maybe. Or something else.
She walks behind me.
There's a pause, and then her arms come around my body.
She can't get her arms all the way around me. I'm too broad, her reach too small, and her hands barely meet on the other side of my chest. But she's trying, pressing herself against my back to get as much contact as possible, and the feel of her body against mine is doing absolutely nothing to help the situation in my shorts.
"Good," I manage. "Now I'm going to demonstrate the defense."
I drop my weight, bend my knees, break her hold easily. She stumbles back slightly and I turn to face her.
"Again," I say. "And this time hold tighter. Don't let me break free that easily."
She comes at me again.
This time when her arms go around me, she presses herself fully against my back, her breasts against my spine, her body flush with mine from shoulders to thighs. She's squeezing tighter, trying to actually restrain me, and I can feel every inch of her.
I demonstrate the defense again, slower this time, so she can see the mechanics. Drop weight, drive elbow back. I stop short of actually hitting her, turn and create distance.
"Now you," I say.
