Friday, October 10, 2014

The Cougars' Tales Part 1


I lasted four rounds with Donna and then I was knocked out for the count. And more.
For the record, I admit that she's a better boxer than I am. Also, I get major wood for women her age, in their forties and Donna is forty-seven. She had twenty years on me! The way she looked at me from across the ring, like she was figuring how she could knock me out cold and still have me physically able to service her later, fascinated me. And I wanted to be able to hit that when I came around, also.
Donna had the look I loved in older women: the maternal blended with the whorish. Watching Donna throwing rapid punches in the air from her corner, aimed at me, I knew I was going down.
And I did just that.
Donna began pounding me during round two and I absorbed it, because I wanted as much physical closeness to Donna as I could get. Donna was serious about punishing me with her fists. I barely made it back to my corner when the automatic buzzer sounded. When it screamed again, I walked directly into a round house. I really didn't see or feel much. Donna's arm swung out like lightening, followed by an explosion of lights and blackness.
I was gone in Dreamland, so aroused and horny for Donna because she knocked me out, that I had a vivid erotic dream.
I was standing in one corner of a boxing ring as, one by one, a group of women, white, black, Asian and Latina, all of them leggy and big breasted, climbed through the ropes. Except for the boxing gloves covering their fists, all the women were naked. They wanted to take me on.
But this wasn't boxing, this was a fuck fight. I banged each one against the turnbuckle, until they had a screaming orgasm.
They thought they could take me, but I loved every woman I embraced to exhaustion.After coitus, they'd tenderly kiss me and whisper sweet nothings or fondle my prick appreciatively until they drifted off to sleep in my arms. I'd carry the women to the other side of the ring, sitting them in a row against the ropes, all of them smiling in their slumber.
Then Donna stepped into the ring. Naked, like the others, except for the red boxing gloves, she moved on me like a pantheress closing in on her prey.
"You may have fucked the sleeping beauties stupid," Donna whispered. "But I'm going to own you tonight!"
I couldn't speak as she pressed me into the turnbuckle with her left glove and cradled my erection with the other, guiding it to her vagina. We began to fuck immediately, this powerful and beautiful amazon and I!
After the devastating orgasm, I slumped against Donna's bare chest. "Who owns your ass?" Donna demanded in my ear.
"Donna." I answered, beginning to kiss her breasts.
"That's right! Say 'Night-night!' "
WHAP!
Donna's punch put me out where I stood. I swayed on my feet and then gently fell across Donna's shoulder. She carried me from the ring like I was a rag doll.
I snapped back to reality sitting in my corner, Donna was waving smelling salts under my nose. As I organized my scattered senses, Donna gently clasped my erection.
"Wow!" she declared. "A lot of guys I've knocked out have popped a circus tent, but not like this! Is that made of titanium?"
I made out with Donna for five minutes, before she told me. "No, just can't let that go to waste! Good night, honey!"
BAM!
Just like the dream made real, I dropped across Donna's shoulder and went out for the night.

Thursday, September 18, 2014

Cruel Summer



The late August sun flooded through the windows of the Amazonia Boxing Club, where Adrienne worked out. Most of the membership had left town on vacation, leaving behind people like Adrienne, who was on call as an emergency room doctor. Being independent in nature, the situation didn't bother Adrienne, who enjoyed the solitude, the heat and working the heavy bag.
At the beginning of the month, she had begun a fling with Rex, another exile at the Amazonia. They had had two sparring matches. Adrienne was always aroused by a skilled male fighter who hit hard, so she quickly angled Rex into bed. Adrienne wasn't in love, but she liked Rex a lot. He was single, like her, a very satisfying fuck and liked the same movies, bars and restaurants as she did.  He was nice to be around.
When the compulsion to knock her lover out swept over her one afternoon, Adrienne couldn't explain to herself. In the spare moments she had at Lincoln ICU, Adrienne daydreamed about how she could do it. Quickly, she decided a punch, preferably gloved up in the ring, would be the way. Adrienne knew she was experienced and strong enough to make KO happen and figured how to make the punch look accidental. In previous matches at the Amazonia, she made men sleep on the canvas. Recovery time from Adrienne's KOs took some time, one victim was two weeks healing. That kind of condition didn't leave a man horny for sex with the woman who hospitalized him.
Res might not want to fuck after I lay him out for the count, she thought and became very nervous.
But the desire kept nagging Adrienne. Maybe, Adrienne thought, I could just tell Rex what I want?
"Rex, I want to ask you something."
"Sure."
Rex was face down on Adrienne's flat, toned mid section, kissing his way slowly to the valley of her breasts. They were both enjoying the after glow of orgasm.
"Can I knock you out?"
Rex let out a laugh. "What? You want to fuck in a boxing ring now?"
"NO. I mean in a boxing match. You know...hit you so hard you go out cold..."
"Why do you want to do that?"
"I don't know..I just want to, really bad!"
Rex looked up from kissing her right nipple. "You want to end this, Adrienne?"
"No!" She sat up excited. "No! It would make the sex better...I just want to conquer you...honey....!"
"Just so we're clear...we get in the ring for a real match and you put me out and when I get out of the hospital, we go back to what we have?"
"Exactly!"
The tone of certainty in Adrienne's voice reminded Rex of what a friend had told him in college, "Give a woman cock and they go crazy! They just go completely nuts!" The last time he checked, a year ago, his friend was still married to the woman he was talking about.
Rex agreed.



They  reserved a private ring at the Amazonia just before Labor Day.
Instead of her regular shorts, Adrienne was wearing white and blue foxy boxing trunks. Rex was amazed how the change of outfit altered Adrienne. Damn, she looks like a slut!, Rex told himself.
"Hey," he asked her as they stood in the ring. "What if I knock you out?"
"It'll be okay. I expect you to try."
Yep, completely nuts, Rex thought. They both touched gloves.
The barely controlled craving to batter her lover senseless made Adrienne want to deliver the knockout as soon as she could. in previous mixed matches, she flattened her opponents with no warning. So Adrienne kept after Rex, working to corral him in a corner or against the ropes. When Adrienne fixed him in place, she began taunting him with increasing excitement.
"Let's see what kind you are!" she shouted. "The kind that needs to lose!"
Exhaustion made Rex's limbs heavy. He searched for an escape, but the was trapped.
A soaring right went through his arms, colliding with his chin. When Adrienne saw his eyes roll in their sockets, she knew the fight was over and Rex had gone to dreamland.
The warrioress staggered back, watching Rex go lifeless and spin heavily to the canvas. A sharp orgasm shattered her being and she fell on the ropes, glaring at the fallen boxer.
For a minute, her legs were wobbly and she swallowed air in large, loud gulps. Between breaths, she told Rex that he was "Fucking knocked out!"
With slow steps like a drunk, singing "Cruel Summer" by Bananarama, she went to Rex and straddled him, sitting on his chest.
Her right fist went back in the air above Rex's head.  "Thought if you just fucked me enough, I'd be yours!? Your slave!"
BAM!
The force of the punch jerked Rex's skull to the left.
"Oh Rex, I love your dick! Fuck me as much as you can!" she yelled,imitating a love sick girl.
Adrienne's left fist dropped on Rex, a low moan coming from his lips. Adrienne had done enough to knock Rex out for awhile.
Pulling off her gloves, Adrienne shimmed down her lover's body and pulled away his boxing trunks. First, she rubbed his erection on the side of her mouth and then kissed it. For two minutes, Adrienne rapidly master bated the unconscious boxer until he came all over himself. Pulling his trunks back up, Adrienne dragged Rex to his corner and carefully sat him in his corner.
"Hey! Wake up!" she said, loudly, slapping his face. Rex stirred and then his eyes opened. His skull was bruised and he heard ringing, but he also felt the bliss of coitus.

Wednesday, September 10, 2014

La Ninata


Britney Perez punched above her weight, so occasionally she got decked. Her nickname at the Amazonia Boxing Club was "La Ninata," because she was short and despite being 26, had retained her girlish appearance, but mostly because she was so antagonistic in the ring. Her best fights were against women her own height, Like Desiree and Desiree's girlfriend, May.
"I knocked both of those concha's out cold!" Britney told a then boyfriend and the statement was accurate. Both challengers ended their match asleep on the canvas.
Against male opponents, Britney usually held her own. She punched out a few guys who could not look away from her dusky beauty and ample tits. Most of the other mixed matches were won on points, but Will knocked Britney out cold in round five. The loss did not discourage Britney, who seduced Will a week after the fight.
The sensation of being taken by a man never happened to "La Ninata" until she encountered Marcus Apted.
Unti recently, Apted had slept with any woman he could charm the pants off of. Now he was joined romantically and professionally to Paula, his assistant in high end burglary. Paula had thrived under Apted's mentoring and was a skilled scout for wealthy targets. She was also very committed to their personal relationship. Apted would fuck another woman when Paula was out of town scouting, but these were flings. He knew he had a lucrative partnership and wasn't going to damage it.

The fight between Britney and Apted was brief, but stimulating for both participants. Britney delivered her challenge to Apted when Paula was not around, which peaked Apted's interest.
Britney hit hard and moved fast, as previous male opponents informed Apted. But he was taller ans stronger and eventually began to dominate.
At the bell for round four, they came out quickly. Britney's eyes, alive with aggression and arousal, walked into Apted's right as it arched out in a looping round house.
La Ninata only heard the explosion of leather smacking her jaw. Flashing lights obliterated everything and Britney dropped into a dreamy slumber.
Apted knew the exhilaration of watching a female boxer, limp and unconscious, loaded onto a stretcher and carried from the ring. Britney was out for an hour.


For a month after the bout, Britney felt weak in the knees when she thought of Apted. He hadn't simply put her lights out, Apted had demolished Britney. Britney remembered going out from the right not as losing consciousness, but as ecstatic surrender to Apted's masculine power. At the end of the month, Britney found herself naked and supine in Apted's bed.
The feeling Britney was consumed by could be described as "love," but that was too vague. She needed Apted all the time. This was fine for the week Paula was gone, but Paula was possessive of her mentor-lover and Apted ended things with La Ninata.
"For your own safety," he explained.
Britney was very unhappy and she told everyone in the womens locker room that she was still banging Marcus Apted every night. The gossip moved fast, reaching Paula in two days.

Paula confronted Apted, who admitted to the infidelity. Paula raged for the entire morning and then banished Apted to the couch for a month. Then she dealt with the problem.
Paula slugged Britney in the gut when La Ninata answered the doorbell. Stepping passed the girl boxer, Paula yanked her rival inside and slammed the door shut. A second punch, to the face, put Britney on the floor.
"Know who I am, Little Brat!?" demanded Paula and slugged Britney again. "Bet you can guess, Miss Cum Dump!"
Britney was clearly dazed, so Paula landed two punches to her mid section.
"Marcus Apted's penis is my personal possession! Am I clear?!"
Britney started to form a response, but Paula hammered her chin. Paula hauled her back to her feet. "Look at Marcus again and you are dead! Understood?"
Britney nodded weakly.
"Good! Say good night!"
Paula worked Britney over for a full minute. La Ninata faded quickly, her body going numb from the beating. Suddenly the room was dark and the sound was off. Amid the barrage of fists, Paula hit the sweet spot on Britney's jaw and the girl boxer went down for the count.
Hours later, sleep drained from Britney's skull. The bathroom mirror reflected Britney bruised black and blue, eyes circled with dark purple. She wasn't obsessed with Apted anymore.

Tuesday, September 2, 2014

Stealing Kaylee Part 2




"I think I'll have to cheat." Marty told Emma the Ref  in his apartment bedroom.
"You'll have to," replied Emma.  "Kaylee is a better fighter than you."
Emma rarely strayed from her partners Wes and Katie, but seeing Marty sprawled on the canvas, out cold, cock bulging in his trunks, from Kaylee's knockout punch, she had to sleep with him.
It wasn't difficult to make happen.
Marty woke frustrated and angry at his opponent, who he had wanted to fuck. The blond boxer had seen Marty's intentions almost instantly and, not wanting to lose her boyfriend, insisted they fight a match first. Kayle put him out in round two.
"Any ideas?" asked Emma.
"No,"
"You could make sure a roofie landed in her water bottle between rounds?"
The residual pleasure of their night together caused sympathy for Marty in Emma that would have been disdain under normal circumstances.
"No. That's not it. I need something satisfying and direct."
Emma looked at the clock radio on the table by Marty's bed and then at the sunlight seeping in the windows. One more before I go, she decided, slipping her hand beneath the covers. She lovingly fondled Marty's penis back to life.
"Marc has a pair of loaded gloves filled with sand," she said and they both smiled.

Marc lent Marty his "special" gloves. "Paula and Cathy made them for me when I had that match against Lynn."
Marc referred to his live in girlfriends, who conspired to help him defeat Lynn, who had knocked him out in four previous bouts.  After Lynn discovered Marc had cheated, she put him and the two girls in the hospital. Marc always left out that detail when he bragged about the incident.
Marty thought the gloves were satisfyingly heavy.

They reassembled for the rematch a week after the first fight. Right after Emma reviewed the rules, Kaylee agreed to a proposal by Marty that stunned the referee.
"I have an idea, Kaylee." Marty said.
"Oh, yeah?"
Both fighters were looking each other in the eye.
"You know why I asked you out?"
"Yep, you wanted me to fuck you behind Sam's back."
"Exactly." Marty stated. "How about if I knock you out for the count, we spend the night together?"
Kaylee didn't flinch. "Fine!"
They touched gloves in agreement.
"Are you insane, Kaylee!" demanded Emma, walking back with the blond to her corner.
"No. It was a snap putting Marty to sleep before. Why should this go be any different?"
"You're one crazy, confident young lady!"
Kaylee smiled a "thank you."
Kaylee deliberately sprang at Marty when the buzzer sounded. He dodged sideways, until he was out from behind her trap.
She's pissed at what I said, Marty thought. Good.
Waiting for Kaylee to come to him gave Marty an advantage. He stepped in as she came on, slugging Kaylee twice in the belly, hard and fast, and smacking home a sharp right before she could back away. Another right fired across Kaylee's cheek. Her head is snapped the other way by a left hook. A right upper cut burst on Kaylee's chin.
She cursed and launched an assault on Marty, hitting his midsection harder and faster. Then she unleashed a storm of blows to his head, that Marty ducked away from. He fired a roundhouse between Kaylee's punches. Her upper cut flew at Marty's jaw.
Kaylee felt her entire skull rattle. She was out before slamming to the canvas. Marty was lifted off his feet and landed on the ropes, that pitched him back. Marty's inert body spun and he landed face up beside Kaylee.
Emma the Ref stood over the unconscious fighters for a moment. A ten count was pointless. When Emma thumbed their eyes, she nothing but whites.
Looking Kaylee over, Emma thought she was very sexy, but the prone Marty evoked strong memories and Emma removed the loaded gloves. She transferred them to Kaylee and tied her gloves to Marty. Then she revived Kaylee with smelling salts.
"Hey....wha....happened..." Kaylee whispered.
Emma helped the groggy girl boxer to her corner. "You two knocked each other out."
"What?"
"At exactly the same instant. Don't you recall?"
"No."
Emma went back to the center of the ring and brought Marty back from slumbers. He was just as dizzy as Kaylee and needed to be guided back to his seat.
"I knocked her out," he declared. "I won!"
"No you didn't! Kaylee flattened you, also. Kaylee..Edward..if you can handle it, I propose a tie breaker round. Whoever goes down this time is the loser."
"Yes!" Kaylee agreed, with weary determination. Marty nodded positively.
"Excellent." Emma the Ref stepped back. "Ready?,,,Fight!"
Both boxers raised themselves from their folding chairs, rising their gloves and fixing stares on each other. Marty launched a straight right, smacking Kaylee's face. Two piston blows smashed his stomach, a third stung his face. Kaylee sneered "Asshole!" and tagged Marty with a left.
"Where you going?" Kaylee yelled as Marty stumbled away. She leaped into his path and threw a hard body shot. The right upper cut shut off the lights,
Marty went to the canvas like a dead weight. Emma told Kaylee she had won.
"Who the hell did he think he was?!" Kaylee shouted. "Who did he think I was?"
Suddenly, Emma was nervous at aggressive tone in her friend's kupie-doll voice. "Go take a shower and go home. You won. I'll take care of Marty."
Kaylee spat a few more insults as she climbed out of the ring and vanished into the locker room.
Collecting both pairs of boxing gloves, Emma waved the smelling salts under Marty's nose. He jumped back to consciousness. Emma took him home and made sure he went to bed.

Wednesday, August 6, 2014

The Full Show







From the corner of the half lit boxing ring, Dean watched Alicia walk across the gym slowly. Her form became much clearer when she climbed through the top and middle ropes. Alicia was topless, a pair of black boxing gloves dangling around her neck, bouncing gently off her full, smooth tits. The gloves matched the leather eye mask that tied behind her straight, shimmering, raven colored hair. Alicia looked as if Betty Page had suddenly taken up burglary.
Dean could hardly speak, taking in Alicia's slender legs and thighs. The tight undies that covered up to her flat belly only made the rest of her exposed body more alluring.
Handsome, Alicia thought, looking at Dean. Good thing, too. He paid for the full show.
Smiling a row of white teeth at Dan, Alicia purred, "Hi there, stupid boy!" and moderated the aggression in her voice. "All dressed for our match, trunks and gloves, just like I ordered. Good boy!"
Alicia undid the knot that connected the gloves and placed them on the canvas at Dean's feet. "Like you'd ever lay a glove on me!"
Dean felt his erection abruptly extend, until it bulged in the upper left leg of his trunks. Right on schedule, mentally noted Alicia, as she knelt down, rubbing her mouth on Dean's concealed penis, caressing its width first with her blood red lips and then gently embracing it with her teeth.
"Yes!" Alicia said. The word stabbed Dean.
"You ever get knocked out by a woman, Dean?"
"yea.." then Dean's voice failed.
"It's obvious you like women in boxing gear!"
Alicia mouthed Dean's erection again. "I'm going to knock you out multiple times, Dean!" she said when she stood up. They exchanged a long kiss. "And at the end of our evening together, I'll knock you out so completely that you won't wake till tomorrow morning! How would that be?"
Dean leaned his head into Alicia's and they kissed. Alicia landed a chop to Dean's unprotected neck. He groaned softly and slumped against her chest. This was Alicia's favorite way to start a session.

Dean woke seated in a corner of the ring a minute later, Alicia slapping her face, encouraging him to wake up. "Come on, little boy! We have a busy night ahead of us."
Alicia tugged him to his feet and removed his boxing gloves as Dean collected his senses. "Ready for some wrestling?"
Dean looked at Alicia dopily, but nodded in the affirmative.
"Great!"
Alicia grabbed Dean and effortlessly flipped him over her shoulder, landing him, painfully, flat on his back. Dean had barely taken a breath when the bare heel of Alicia's right foot pounded his belly. His eyes widened with agony and his mind focused perfectly. Alicia quickly got Dean back on his feet and then slugged him three times in the mid section. Grabbing his wrist, she spun him in a circle twice before letting him fly into the far corner turnbuckle.
Tipping backward, Alicia executed a graceful handstand, spread her legs perversely in a mid air "V" and then fell upright, a few feet from her befuddled victim. Instantly, she vaulted into a second "V" handstand, that brought her heels to eye level of Dean's face. Alicia inched forward a few paces on her palms and leveled her feet at both sides of Dean's skull.
The long legs moved apart and then snapped shut as Alicia said "Night-night!"
Dean saw an explosion of stars and went out.
 Alicia tumbled upright and nudged the male from behind, propelling him to the canvas, where he slept peacefully for ten minutes.


When he woke, Dean felt an unexpected softness against his face. As he fell, he dreamily saw the canvas race up to him before splashing into a pool of warm darkness. He expected a hard surface, but Dean's head was cradled on Alicia's bare thighs and she was stroking his hair.
"Come on, lover boy, sit up!" Alicia pulled Dean by his shoulders. "You like this so far?"
Dean rubbed his eyes. "Yes!"
"Good! Did you have any dreams yet?"
"No."
"You will. Guys like you always do. You just have to take the right knockout. Let's try something else."
"Hey, no, wait!" Dean spluttered rapidly as Alicia darted behind his back, clutching her arms around his throat.
Dean gagged loudly. His arms shot out, violently grabbing the air.
Dizziness hit him and his breathing slowed. the muscles in Dean's limbs relaxed.
"Go ahead, go to sleep." Alicia cooed in his ear. "Sleepy time!"
Reality sank into blackness, taking Alicia's voice with it. Dean reached up like a drowning man, the tide of sleep rose. Dean's final, drowned thoughts were of who Alicia was and how much he wanted to fuck her. Dean felt perfectly content and went to oblivion.

"I'm starting to like you," said the sweet female voice that flooded the evaporating blackness in Dean's skull.  "Guys like you are punching bags and I love punching bags!"
Dean was able to move his limbs a minute or so later and his cleared vision took in Alicia wearing black boxing gloves. "No dreams yet?"
"No..." Dean replied.
"Well, don't worry. This next knockout I'm giving you is called the Dreamweaver. It always has the desired effect!"
Dean looked down and saw Alicia had tied gloves to his hands. He felt very aroused.

Sometime during the match, Dean fell in love with Alicia. He knew it was stupid and the feeling would vanish after he slept with his opponent, but he had no will power. When Alicia saw the extreme 'affection' expressed in Dean's eyes, she went for the kill.
Wedging him in a corner, Alicia slowed down her punches, alternating between head shots and pummeling Dean's midsection. A hard upper cut put Dean out on his feet.
He swayed ans staggered, eyes glassy and half open. Alicia stepped away from her victim, assuming he was about to fall.
Instead, Dean raised his gloves and began to paw Alicia's bare breasts and mumble to himself. Alicia knew that he was already dreaming .
"Okay Dean, tuck you in for the night!" she black haired girl told him. She gave him a long kiss.
WHACK!
A second upper cut put Dean on the canvas, limp and completely knocked out.
Through his ten minute, leather induced nap, Dean dreamed of fucking a masked female named Alicia.

Friday, July 18, 2014

A Worshiper




In mixed boxing, Donna encountered two kinds of "pussy worshipers" in the ring. First, there were men who wanted to be knocked out by a woman. They wanted sex with her badly, but the woman they loved had to defeat them in combat first. The second, smaller group, wanted to fuck as much as the first, but these men wanted to do the knocking out.
Rich challenged Donna to a KOs only bout, assuming the attractive 44 year old blond would be a push over. In the previous three months since joining the Amazonia Boxing Club, Rich had three twentysomething adversaries sleeping on the canvas before round five. Donna witnessed two of those fights and realized Rich was a big brawler, who enjoyed putting those girls down. I'll change that, she told herself.

Taking on slobs like Mike since high school had taught Donna mobility. Looking for a showy victory, the males kept up continual pursuit. In the sixth round, Donna slipped onto the ropes and Rich opened up, pounding into Donna's torso.
She crouched, her arms right in front of her chest and face as best as she could place them. Her eyes kept pace with with Rich's elbows.
"Ready, old lady? Ready for a nap!?" Rich taunted, delighted with the way the fight was going.
Donna made no answer, only stoically absorbing the few punches that breached her defenses.
"Why don't you let me clear out the cob webs from your.."
WHAP!
POW!
"...puh...see...."
The right dug into Rich's solar plexus, spiraling agony through his body. A left upper cut popped his head back and he sagged limply. Smiling stupidly, he dropped to the canvas on his stomach.
Electric bliss washed over Donna. She felt completely alive.

Like a rodeo wrangler, Donna went to her knees beside Rich and violently flipped him over on his back. He moaned softly.
"Not asleep, asshole!?" asked Donna, glad he was not totally knocked out. She patted his crotch and found his erection.
"A worshiper!" Donna whispered and then added, louder, directly in Rich's face. "Pussy worshiper! Just can't wait!"
Rich's dim, clouded vision took in six Donnas collapsing into and separating from each other as they straddled his body.
"Dream about fucking me!" they all said together. Multiple Donnas kissed their right glove and swung it down.
Rich saw blackness.


Donna sat in her corner for a minute, catching her breath between long drinks from a water bottle. Walking back to Rich, she carried a business card with her email address and cell number and a blue ribbon. She yanked her victim's trunks to his ankles. The woody had barely shrank. Donna was very tempted, boxing always made her horny, but decided Rich would do the work, not her.
She fastened the card to Rich's cock with the ribbon, securing it with a bow.
As she walked away, Donna was struck by another urge. Slug Rich one more time to prolong the Dreamland tour. Instead, she left a kiss on his lips.

Sunday, July 6, 2014

Mrs. Mitchell the Knockout



At eleven thirty on the night of my twentieth birthday, I stood in the bedroom of my neighbor, Mrs. Mitchell. One of my cherished dreams was about to become reality.
Veronica Mitchell, one of my mom's best friends since they were the Girl Scouts, strode in from the bathroom, wearing a flattering blue one piece bathing suit and a smile.
"You like it, Jon?" she asked me, twisting her hips invitingly.
Recently divorced and in her late forties, Mrs. Mitchell was exactly what I wanted her to be: a hot older woman, with big tits, long legs and a beautiful face that hinted at "slutty." Since about five minutes after puberty hit me like an avalanche, I wanted to fuck Mrs. Mitchell, as I was taught to call her. When her marriage began to unravel, she spent a lot of time at our house, helping my mom put dinner together and often staying for supper when my dad got home. I was in high school then. Mrs. Mitchell had a teasing way of flirting with me, especially when we were left alone.
As I got older, Mrs. Mitchell advised me about girls, which ones were "keepers" and which ones were "good for something, but not much else." I got the feeling she was waiting for something to happen.
"Of course you like it!" Mrs. Mitchell answered for me. "I've taken up boxing since I cleared my husband out of the picture. Do you box, Jon?"
Mrs. Mitchell bent over the side of her bed, reached far under the box spring and retrieved a gym bag. I stood speechless, staring at her legs and half exposed ass cheeks.
"I can't hear you!" snapped me out of the trance. She flung the bag on the bed and opened it.
"Ah...yeah...sure..."
"Good! Know how I know I like a man?"
My tongue barely moved. "How?"
"I want to fuck and beat him senseless." Dumping out four red boxing gloves, she threw a pair in my direction. "You want me to knock you out, Jon?"
Her voice sounded like it did when I was in high school.
"Because I will fucking knock you out! Put 'em on, boy!"
I pulled my shirt off and Mrs. Mitchell nodded approval. Clumsily, I worked on my gloves.
"You still popping Daphne Wilcox's cookies, sweetheart?"
The question jolted me. The answer was "YES!" I'd been dating Daphne for the month and a half since I came back from college for summer vacation. Daphne was one of the girls who was "good for something, but not much else."
"Yes...yes I am!" I began to panic.
"Now, Jon," Mrs. Mitchell said in a calming, maternal voice. She walked toward me, seductively banging her gloves together at chest level. "I'm not making a marriage proposal, I'm out of that business. I just want to box with you!"
Mrs. Mitchell took me in along kiss. I thought I was going to cum standing there. I had been fucking Daphne since our second date, but I never was this aroused. The embrace lasted a full minute and then Mrs. Mitchel shoved me away.
"Put 'em up, Jon, so you can get knocked out!"
My entire body flushed. Instinctively, I covered my erection with my hands.
"No, that's okay!" Mrs. Mitchel used her maternal tone again. She brushed away my gloves from my crotch and raised them to eye level. "There's a cure for that condition!"
We touched gloves and began the match.

I never hit a woman before. I knew it was wrong, but the twin urges to fuck and punch Mrs. Mitchell drown me. And with each punch, the urge grew until it was out of control.
I unleashed on my opponent, who encouraged me. "That's it!" "That's what I want!"  she repeated, even when she blocked or ducked out most of my punches.
I smacked her tits with an awkward and unintentional left-right combination. Mrs. Mitchell taunted, "Oh, does little boy want to fight mommy!"
Lust stung me. I swung a roundhouse at Mrs. Mitchell's head, which she sidestepped and fired an upper cut to my chin, putting me out on my feet.
Through the haze and the stars exploding in my brain, I saw Mrs. Mitchell smile. "I know what kind of boy you are! I've always known!"
I swung again, missing by inches. The fog slowly drained away, allowing me to understand her remark.
"Gonna cum, Jon!? Gonna cum in your trunks when I slug you just right?"
My vision focused. I knew I should have been pissed off at what Mrs. Mitchell said, but instead I was horny beyond description. She saw how I was from the hungry look in my eyes and her fist cocked back behind her ear.
I arched my right to my waist and launched it upward.
POW!
BAM!
Multicolored stars streamed around me and I watched the light show for what seemed like hours. Then they  were gone and I could see Mrs. Mitchell on her back, head lolled to the right, eyes closed, mouth hanging listlessly open. A large smile curved her cheeks.
I went light headed and my knees buckled. I was beside the slumbering Mrs. Mitchell and pitched into darkness, never feeling my face smack her tits.


I came back from the knock out punch slowly, looking up at Mrs. Mitchell, sitting next to me on the bed completely naked. There was a purple bruise on her jaw where my fist impacted
. Feeling slender fingers start to fondle my erection, I realized I was naked, also.
"Have a nice nap, Jon?" Mrs. Mitchell leaned in and gave me a strong kiss. "We were both out for awhile! No man ever knocked me cold before. You should be proud of your fists."
Mrs. Mitchell moved back, spreading her legs wide over my midsection "Among other things!"