Il allait monter sur le ring dans deux minutes. Julia lui tenait compagnie, bras croisés, adossée contre le mur du vieux temple reconverti. Il respirait mal. Il fixait le sol.
“Hé,” fit-elle en posant la main sur son épaule nue, “tu vas gagner.”
Il leva les yeux, nerveux.
“Tu veux que je te porte chance ?” ajouta-t-elle.
Il haussa un sourcil, sans répondre. Julia se pencha lentement et, sans attendre son accord, baissa son pantalon. Il n’opposa aucune résistance.
Elle s’approcha sans un mot, posa les mains sur ses hanches. Sa bouche s’inclina vers son entrejambe. Elle y posa un premier baiser, tout contre la jointure entre sa cuisse et ses bourses, doucement. Le deuxième vint au bas de la tige, presque tendre. Le troisième, enfin, remonta jusqu’au côté du gland : un baiser long, chaud, appuyé. Elle le sentit se raidir sous ses lèvres. Elle sourit, sans le regarder.
“Si tu gagnes,” souffla-t-elle, “je m’arrêterai pas à quelques baisers.”
Elle se redressa, recula d’un pas. Il restait figé, le souffle plus lent, les yeux ailleurs. Elle, tranquille, repartit vers la sortie. Elle ne l’avait pas excité. Elle l’avait programmé. Concentré. Chargé. Il allait monter sur le ring avec la promesse encore fraîche, collée contre lui. Et elle savait qu’il n’allait plus penser à perdre.
He was about to step into the ring in just two minutes. Julia stood by, arms crossed, leaning casually against the repurposed old temple wall. He was breathing unevenly. Staring at the ground.
"Hey," she said, placing a hand on his bare shoulder. "You're going to win."
He looked up, nervous.
"Want a little good luck?" she added.
He raised an eyebrow, not replying. Julia leaned in and, without waiting for permission, pulled his pants down. He didn’t resist.
Without a word, she stepped closer, placing her hands on his hips. Her mouth lowered to his crotch. She planted the first kiss right at the crease between his thigh and his balls. The second landed near the base of his shaft, almost tender. The third rose to the side of his tip: long, warm, deliberate. She felt him stiffen beneath her lips. She smiled without looking up.
"If you win," she whispered, "I won't stop at just a few kisses."
She straightened and took a step back. He stood frozen, breathing slower, eyes distant. Calmly, she turned and walked off. She hadn't excited him. She had primed him. Focused him. Charged him up. He would step into the ring with her promise still clinging to his skin. And she knew he wouldn’t be thinking about losing.