Saturday, October 15, 2016

The Argument

Cathy looked great in her corner, firing punches in the air that were meant for me.
If I had to call it, my Cathy was between slender and skinny. I always had a thing for her body type, slim but muscular and tall. I could see those tear-drop breasts concealed by her lose fitting top. From across the ring, Cathy's molten brown eyes always turned me on, even if they radiated anger.
Neither of us could say now what we argued over, but it was trouble enough to have to resolve it with our fists. It was just our natures and why we both joined the Amazonia Boxing Club. We liked to fuck and we liked to fight together

"We're battling to a KO!" Cathy told me when we touched gloves. Usually an order like that from Cathy was delivered with an erotic edge, but tonight she was just pissed.
"Good," I said. "You want to get roughed up a bit before I floor you?"
Cathy flinched a little at my question, aroused by the prospect.

One good thing about boxing an intimate partner is that you've learned how they move, how fast or slow. The bad thing is that she's studied the exact same facts about you.
We traded punches slowly in the beginning and then the pace quickened. I concentrated on working her body, while Cathy deflected what I threw at her and smacking me in return.
In round three, I tagged Cathy directly on the jaw. She stumbled and dropped to the canvas. My girlfriend was motionless, eyes shut and body limp until I reached "SEVEN!", when she seemed to rattle back to consciousness.
Rolling forward into a sitting position, Cathy stared at me with the determination to continue fighting, so I stopped the count. On legs of rubber, Cathy climbed to her feet. She was enraged that she'd been knocked unconscious.
Her right shot back behind her waist as she hurled at me, moving just slow enough to anticipate the punch.
"Stupid fuck!" Cathy spat at me. I aimed an upper cut at her unguarded chin. I knew a tire iron connected with my head.
I was out for at least five minutes.
Exploding stars and flashing pinwheels were dancing around me when my eyes opened. There were some soft, deep moans which weren't mine. Cathy, already sitting up on the canvas, was cradling her head in her gloves.
"You fucking asshole!" she spat at me.
I sat up myself. "I hope things are settled now...."
My girlfriend stared icily. "Yeah, we both have glass jaws and you get a woody from being punched out by a should have seen yourself laying there!"
I noticed I still had an erection and seeing Cathy that upset got me even more excited. I rose to my feet, with Cathy trailing right behind me.
"If you want to go again, I'll knock you out again!"
"Yeah?" Cathy was smiling as she stepped backward into the turnbuckle.
"Yeah! You just picked this argument so I could fuck you up!"
Cathy settled submissively in the corner.

 As we kissed violently, we made love. Then Cathy collapsed against me, calling my name as she kissed my chest and neck. "You win! You win!" she repeated, surrendering.

Monday, October 3, 2016

A Long Way

People told me Amelia had come a long way as a fighter since she joined the Amazonia Boxing Club and I believed it. I sent her to the canvas, out for the count, by the fifth round of our last bout. A girl her size going against me was punching above her weight, but while Amelia was upright and awake, she fought well.
I won't lie. I like KOing girls like Amelia - on the short side, cute as hell, and full of determination. Amelia employed all her newly honed skills, but she ended up in a deep slumber. I so enjoyed watching her carried out to the Recovery Room, that I wanted to see her again. Many women at the Amazonia didn't take well to being put down by a man's fists. But more than one guy told me that Amelia got horny from it. Men make up only twenty percent of the Amazonia's membership, so information about our female counterparts spreads quickly.
So, with the excuse of checking on her recovery, I talked to Amelia two days after her defeat.
"You were great, Amelia! He landed some good shots on me."
Amelia, her black hair gathered in a tight pony tail, shifted her position as she worked the heavy bag in order to speak to me. "I thought I had you once or twice..." Amelia looked away shyly for a moment. " got me instead. I have a glass jaw!"
We both laughed. "Do you remember anything about our match?"
"Well, I can still see you..." Amelia went back to hitting the bag. "You were looming over me and your fists smacking me all over. Then I was gone..."
"What are you doing Friday night, Amelia?"
The rhythm of her punches on the bag increased suddenly. "I might be busy."
"I like Chinese."

As we ate our improvised breakfast Saturday morning, Amelia confessed she masturbated to the memory of her knockout losses in the ring.
"Men and women?"
"Doesn't matter from who."
"Did you think about our fight last night?"
Amelia giggled like a tree full of singing birds. "Of course! The man who demolished me in front of everyone at the Amazonia? How could I not?
Much later, Amelia admitted she thought of other men who had floored her in the past when she fucked, but that's a story for another time.
"Do you ever cum when you are knocked out?" 
"Yeah, a lot!"
"How about fighting with me?"
"My second Jasmine told me my panties were soaked when they examined me in the Recovery Room."
"Amelia you are a strange girl!"
She pulled her face in mock outrage. "It's just me, just how I am."
"I want a rematch!" I insisted.
"Bet you do!"

The rematch was a week later, after hours, just Amelia and I, in a private ring at the Amazonia.
"You know what to do!" Amelia reminded me from her corner as she slipped on a pair of red boxing gloves. I considered asking Amelia why we didn't just get to the real reason we were there, but I decided not. Every woman has her own foreplay.
Amelia was awesome, stalking from her corner, her bright brown eyes fixed on me. For a moment I wondered if I'd walked into a trap and she would KO me.
We traded shots, fast and sharp. I tried to keep close to my opponent, since I had the height and weight advantage. But small girls who fight learn to move quickly and Amelia absorbed that lesson 
thoroughly. For every combination I landed on her head or body, two other punches either clipped or missed her.
I knew Amelia was working herself up, anticipating her end game. Two rounds went by before I became aggressive, pressing Amelia to the ropes and working her body. Amelia answered the fifth round bell smiling, though her movements were slowed by fatigue.
"Give it to me!" she fired at me between punches, at first under her breath and then more audible and demanding.
The sharp "SMACK!" of my glove on Amelia's chin stopped her in mid sentence. Collapsing onto the ropes, her arms dangled at her side. The blank, glassy look in her eyes revealed that she was out on her feet. I fired two more gut shots. The upper cut that followed nearly flipped her out of the ring.
Amelia's hips jerked as a dull smile spread on her face.
"Here comes the orgasm, honey!" I said as if Amelia could hear me.
The right hook turned off the dimming lights in her skull. She groaned and crashed heavily on her back.

Amelia's body jerked a few more times and then relaxed, while I counted her out. I removed her trunks. The front of her pink panties were soaked in cum. When the panties came off, I was staggered by how beautiful her black haired pussy and smooth thighs were as she was unconscious.

In the dressing room, Amelia slept for five minutes. I redressed her in a pair of my sweatpants.
"Oh God! You did it!" Amelia purred when she fully rejoined the conscious world. "I felt every orgasm!"
When I sat beside her on the bed, Amelia pulled me into a prolonged kiss. Already a bruise marked her lower jaw and purple shiner was growing beneath her right eye.
"Don't ever leave me!' she whispered in my ear.
"Never." I promised.

Sunday, September 18, 2016

Mother and Daughter

I banged a few women from the Cougar Clique before Sherry. She wasn't as face pretty as Beatriz and Donna, the Clique leader, but Sherry had slender legs and satisfying tits. Light blue eyes illuminated her entire face, which held a maternal-whorish look to them.That magnetism doubled for me after each match I watched Sherry win at the Amazonia Boxing Club.
"Five guys took me on, five guys got carried out!" Sherry warned me the afternoon I challenged her to a match. She was being modest. The fights I witnessed all ended with the male participants badly bruised and out cold by round four. Even my friend Tommy, one of the best boxers at the Amazonia, was lifted off his feet by Sherry's upper cut.
Our fight was set for that Saturday.

An hour before the start, Sherry visited me in my dressing room just after my second, Desiree, stepped away.
"How old are you, Jon?"
Sherry was prepped for battle in short red trunks and a matching sports bra. Her thighs looked better the more I saw of them.
"Twenty-three." I replied.
"Almost perfect." purred Sherry, her arms snaking through mine and up my back, drawing me into an embrace. We kissed. "Ever been knocked out?"
"A few times..." I answered.
Sherry clasped my right hand and tenderly guided it down the front of her trunks. "Feel that, Jon?"
My fingers danced with her pussy hair and labia. We both grinned and kissed again.
With my free hand, I shifted Sherry's waist band below her hips.
"I'm gonna knock you out cold! So I'm giving you something to dream about!"
I had just started caressing Sherry's clit when she slapped my face. "Asshole! What the hell are you doing?!" she yelled violently, shoving me away. "Get ready for a serious beating, asshole!"
Sherry gave me a great leg show as she strode from the room.

Like Sherry's previous foes, I went to the canvas pretty quickly. It was my own fault. The lovely feel of her pussy on my fingers wouldn't leave me alone. A combination hammered me. The first punch sprawled me on the ropes. The second I never felt.
I know I slumbered through Emma the Ref's ten count, because when I woke I was in my corner, Desiree holding her index and middle fingers in my face.
"How many fingers, Jon?"
I concentrated, focusing on her hand.
"Christ!" Desiree rolled her eyes.
"How's he doing?" asked Emma's voice.
"Sherry knows how to pick them. Help me get him to the recovery room."
Both women pulled me up, draping my arms over their shoulders. I glimpsed Sherry accepting the adulation of the all female crowd with her fists in the air. I went back to sleep.

Two weeks after getting publicly trounced , Sherry and I met up at the No Tell, a tidy motor lodge on Route 3. Waiting for us was a woman near my age, a younger looking version of Sherry.
"This is Jon, sweetie. You heard a lot about him."
The girl looked me up and down critically.
"You put him out. Nice to finally meet you, Jon."
I struggled for a response, but my only thought was "Three way!"
"You certainly have your mother's beauty." I said, suddenly very confident.
"That's sweet! I'm Jillian!"
"It's just been my daughter and me since my husband left we share everything. Understand, Jon?"
Jillian tossed a gym bag from her shoulder on the bed and took out a pair of heavy looking boxing gloves. "Let's flip for him, Mom!"
I watched a quarter fly off Sherry's thumb. Jillian called out "Tails!" as it tumbled to the floor. George Washington stared up at us from the carpet.
Jillian kissed her mother and told me "See you later!" as she left. Sherry slowly pulled the glove on her right hand.
The older woman I wanted to fuck so much was about to give me the knock out I craved!
Sherry kissed the glove and slugged me. Landing on the bed, I was out.

The great thing about sex with an older woman is how confident they are, they do know what they want. Sherry took me in her with the sole purpose of getting laid until she was completely satisfied, which was a long time.
After 1 a.m. Jillian appeared in the room, naked as we were. More athletic than her mother, Jillian had the smooth body of a twenty-four year old. "Come here, Jon!"
She and I fell into a long kiss, that was abruptly terminated by a bare knuckled right to my chin. I remember slumping over Jillian's shoulder.
Like her mother, Jillian wanted a man to fuck her continually. She urged me on like a jockey on a through bred.

I woke late the next morning to see mother and daughter standing by the bed, decked out in tight trunks and boxing gloves. I leaped from the bed, kissing them both deeply.
"No Jon, look at us!"
Both women cocked back their right fists, saying "Nighty-night!" in unison.
I saw them smile like predators.
I came around, hours later, with headache and a black eye. 

Monday, September 5, 2016

Boxing Cousin Tulip


Jim's girlfriend, Bella, was carried inside the house and put on the living room couch. Three rounds was how long she lasted in a bare knuckled backyard match with Tulip, Jim's older cousin. Tulip wanted to sleep with Jim, but Bella, obviously, objected so Tulip beat her up.
"Bella, sweetheart, can you hear me?!" Jim implored his prone lover. Tulip was standing a few feet away, arms folded confidently over her abundant tits, held in place by a scarlet bikini top. Shifting her long, well developed legs in cut-off jean shorts, she  brushed her cousins head.
"She's out, Jimmy, and I made sure she'll be that way for a while!"
Jim stared at Tulip, very pissed at the damage she'd done to Bella.
"Hope you're happy, Tulip!"
Beneath his honest anger, Jim wanted to fuck his second cousin badly. But he was in love with Bella.
"Very!" Tulip clutched Jim's arm, tugging him away from the couch. "This one's useless, Jim! You saw she can't fight and I know I'm a better fuck than her...let's go upstairs!"
The trio was alone in the house. Jim and Bella were visiting during a university graduation road trip. The last time Tulip saw her little cousin Jim, he was in high school and whenever they embraced, Tulip rubbed forcefully against him and tongued him when they kissed. The embarrassed teen pretended nothing was wrong, but his arousal was pretty obvious. Now just when Jim was legal, Tulip found her seduction plans obstructed by Bella, so she clobbered her rival.
"Outside, Tulip! Now!"
Tulip wasn't annoyed by this delay. It always thrilled her to work over the man she wanted.

In the backyard, a boxing ring had been improvised from old couches, lounges and mattresses.
"We fight till one us sleeps, understand, Jimmy?"
"Yeah, I understan..."
Jimmy came up short when Tulip dropped her bikini top and pitched it outside the ring. The boxing gloves she pulled on were inscribed with "Sweet Dreams!" on the front of each. Jim stood entranced.
"What are you waiting for, put on those gloves!" ordered Tulip.
Jim, eyes still fixed on Tulip's bare chest, grabbed the black gloves Bella should have worn and put them on. Tulip went to her corner, picked up a large wooden spoon and banged it loudly on a metal bucket she clinched in her arm.
Jim had a compulsion to punch his cousin right on the nipples. When he got the chance, he socked both breasts twice, electing an "OHHH!"  from Tulip. Her pain sounded so good to Jim. A hard punch from nowhere clouted the side of his head and Jim was out.
The sky, blue and lined with cottony clouds, was what Jim saw next. Jim got to his feet, not even hearing Tulip's count until he was standing up straight.
"I know you wanted to feel them, but punching the girls is not permitted!" Tulip taunted.
They touched gloves and fought again.
While Jim battled his cousin, he forgot completely about Bella, still knocked out and dreaming in the house. He concentrated on sending Tulip on her own trip to Dreamland. For a moment he wondered what he might try after the ten count, with Tulip spread eagle on the lawn.


Jim emerged slowly this time, groaning, his face aching. Gloved hands resting in his lap, he sat in a recliner, head lolling side to side. Tulip knelt in front of him and called his name. Jim made a kind of response.
Tulip burst out laughing. "I knew it, I always knew it!"
She yanked him to his feet and dog walked Jim to the large, overstuffed couch that comprised one side of the ring "Ready for Mommy's good night kiss?'
Jim only grinned distractedly. He was already dreaming on his feet of fucking Tulip, thrusting harder and harder.
"Now, the next time I say 'Let's go to my room,' you do it!"

Jim was out cold for ten minutes.
He dreamed erotically of Bella and three girls he nailed behind Bella's back at Blake Mitchell University. But mostly he had pleasing visions of the woman who had just punched him out.
When he woke on Tulip's bed, he and Tulip were naked. As she stalked across the bedding like a tigress, Tulip described to Jim how sexy he was naked and knocked out. Tulip buried him in her body.

An hour later the cousins were dressed. Tulip felt her usual deep contentment after getting laid really well.
"Hey, Tulip?"
Tulip turned to her cousin, smiling as she thought: God, maybe he wants more!
Jim's sudden right hook knocked Tulip unconscious. Carrying her downstairs, Jim placed her on the big chair opposite the couch, where Bella still slumbered.

"Bella, honey, wake up!" He repeated himself a few times, gently slapping the girl's chin. Bella stirred and her eyes fluttered open.
"Don't you remember?" asked Jim.
"I don't recall anything."
"You knocked Tulip out cold!" Jim said, happiness rising in his voice.
"I..I did?"
"Well, you put each other out at the same time. But Tulip still is still snoozing!'
Bella sat back on the cushion and rubbed her head. "The bitch deserved it!"


Thursday, August 18, 2016

Fight the Good Girl

The text read "Fight Me!" Max Haig impulsively responded "When?" Max wanted to box Lady Donna very badly.
The feelings he had for Lady Donna were closer to intense lust than to love, but the desire burned deeply all the same. Lady Donna, a senior director of Justice Force, an all female band of crime fighters, was all that Max was not.

He had seen Lady Donna the first time on a live news broadcast of her taking out all five members of the Testosterone Gang during a bank heist. The twelve year old Max was stunned speechless watching the younger Lady Donna pose over the defeated crooks, flexing her biceps for the camera. Max was deep in wide-eyed love.
Max did wonder why Lady Dona dared him to a private bout at the Amazonia Boxing Club. Justice Force had been trying to capture Max, who had grown up to be a successful cat burglar, counterfeiter, and cyber criminal, for more than a decade. A number of times he tangled with Justice Force agents and left all of them out cold at his feet.
Was it a trap? Maybe. But if they wanted to capture him, Justice Force could have easily traced the signal of his cell phone and found him. This had not happened. 
Did Lady Donna just want a fight? Could be. In that case, Lady Donna was in her forties, a decade older than Max, and he assumed he would score a quick KO. That scenario excited him until another, even more stimulating hit Max. Maybe Lady Donna wanted to fuck?

The rules were settled before the time of the match was set, eleven p.m. in a private ring at the Amazonia Boxing Club. For ten rounds, the couple would fight until one knocked the other out. Emma the Ref would over see the fight.
In the flesh, Lady Donna was the perfect Cougar, muscular and lean, tits full and round as Max remembered them being as a teenager. Around Lady Donna's predatory brown eyes, faint crows feet were forming, stoking Max even more.
Emma the Ref waved together. 
"Ready to sleep, pussy hound?" asked Lady Donna.
Max only stared back, reminding himself to keep it together.
"I'm going tuck you into bed tonight, Donna!" 
A glove smacked Max sideways. Emma stepped between the fighters, ordering them to their corners.
Giving them half a minute to focus, Emma shouted "Fight!"
They laid into each other instantly. In the past, Lady Donna had fought plenty like Max, but she was pleasantly surprised by how skilled a fighter Max was. No wonder he knocked out so many of our operatives, she thought. But I know what he really wants and I'm making sure he'll get it!
An even match went on for three rounds. Lady Donna floored Max, but he quickly sprang up even before Emma could start the count. When two right hooks put her on the canvas, Lady Donna had a quick dream of her evening with Batman and woke to hear "FIVE!" Grabbing the ropes, Lady Donna was wobbly but standing when Emma called out "NINE!"
"Okay pussy lover, NOW it's time to sleep!" Lady Donna snarled.

 Punches fell over Max, who retreated from the barrage of leather. Moments later, he felt his back press against the ropes. A faint left was met by Lady Donna's fist, sending him the opposite direction. Pain stabbed his jaw, slowing his reactions, giving Lady Donna the opening she craved.
Three direct hits scrambled Max's vision. A harsh upper cut put him in standing daze. Lady Donna repeated the punch to insure her opponent was immobile.
Max knew what was about to happen any second and knowing that made him fall for Lady Donna. Please fuck me! he pleaded among his jumbled thoughts.
Max slept contently on the canvas.

Lady Donna retrieved Max's gym bag which contained his clothes while Emma counted him out. The two women stripped and redressed the victim in his street clothes, admiring his manhood as they worked.
"What's going to happen to Max now?" asked Emma as she buttoned up his shirt.
"I'll take him back to Justice Force HQ for interrogation. Max has a lot of connections in the criminal networks."
"What if he doesn't cooperate?"
At the count of three, they lifted Max onto the stretcher Emma had placed on the canvas and carried him from the ring.
"I can make men like Max talk!" stated Lady Donna.
"You're not going to hurt him!"
"No, just the opposite."
They were in the alley between the Amazonia Boxing Club and Zappatelli's Pizzeria. Carefully, they sat Max in the couch-sized back seat of Lady Donna's mini van.
"Well, thanks for your help capturing Max Haig. Justice Force won't forget this."
"No problem. Good luck."
The word "Josie" emerged from Max, whose head was nodding. Lady Donna climbed in and landed a karate chop midway between skull and shoulders. Stars danced in Max's head and he slumped over.
"Is he under control?" Emma asked.
"Oh yeah!"
The pair embraced and Lady Donna rode off for Justice Force HQ.

A month later, Emma received an invitation to the wedding of Max Haig and crime fighter Lady Donna. Emma smiled at the happy ending.

Saturday, August 6, 2016

Sleeper or Smother?

"What's it going to be? Sleeper or smoother?"
Beth Ann had Tom pinned to the the canvas, her legs twisted tightly around his and palms clinched on his wrists. Beth Ann's face was only a few inches from his.
"Or should I put one on your chin and leave you here to sleep it off?"
Beth Ann smiled, flashing her bedroom eyes. Tom shifted both sets of limbs, but could not break free.
"Well?" she asked, breathily, granting Tom enough room to squirm against her body.

This week marked the third anniversary of Beth Ann's membership at the Amazonia Boxing Club and wrestling Tom was part of the celebration. Well in advance of the bout, which Beth Ann proposed to Tom one afternoon in a bar, she plotted this climax, which struck Beth Ann as the perfect finish to the bout.
That Tom was physically happy to have Beth Ann pressed on him was obvious and didn't upset her at all. Beth Ann loved close contact with men, whether wrestling, boxing, or fucking. For her, there was little difference between them. The nickname for Beth Ann in the men's locker room was "The Amazon," since her large chest and muscular figure reminded so many of the mythical fighters.

If he doesn't decide now, Beth Ann thought, I'm going to punch him out!
"Smoother!" blurted Tom. "Please!"
"I knew you'd go for that. Don't move!"
She released his wrists to pull off her top, exposing her breasts. Instead of struggling to escape, Tom clasped Beth Ann's ass and gently rubbed the cheeks in anticipation.
"Better feel as much as you can, boy! It's two minutes to Dreamland!"
Beth Ann surged forward, positioning her tits over Tom's face. The boxers stared at each other in silence and Beth Ann murmured, "Sweet dreams!" burying Tom's head between her breasts.  In the first seconds, Tom enjoyed Beth Ann's flesh on his face and tried to kiss the tits that sealed off his mouth and nose. The pleasure vanished when he tried to inhale and couldn't. His arms swung rapidly in every direction, while his legs banged the canvas. Short, stifled gasps barely escaped from under Beth Ann's chest. She tightened her arms, drawing Tom deeper into her cleavage.
"You like it, Tom?! You do!"
Beth Ann titled her face down, kissing Tom's black hair. Suddenly, the limbs slowed and dizziness hit Tom hard. Tom grunted and sighed. Breathing was impossible.
"You out?" asked Beth Ann, tenderly. She gave Tom's neck a final embrace. "Yeah, you're out fucking cold."
Beth Ann released the hold and settled Tom's head on the canvas. His mouth hung open.
"You going to bother pinning him?" asked Emma the Ref. "Because I'm not going to count him out."
"I'll forgo that perk!" Beth Ann replied. She pressed up on Tom's chin until his teeth touched and then kissed her victim. Tom was out stone cold. Perfect, Beth Ann thought.
"Tell Mr. Submissive Lamb that I'll call him tomorrow!" Beth Ann told Emma the Ref and exited the ring.

She actually waited two days to call Tom, which turned out for the best. Emma the Ref had to help him from the ring when he came around. But even as his head cleared in the Recovery Room, Tom knew he was in love with Beth Ann...and horny beyond describing.
Laying in bed that night, Tom reran the memory of the breast smoother knockout in his head until he dropped into a depleted sleep.

Beth Ann called him at work, asking what he'd like for supper. She told him to be at her place at 7 p.m. After dinner and some wine, Beth took Tom by the hand and lead him to her bedroom.
Tom fucked like a man in love, which he was. They both woke late the next morning, happily exhausted.
"You really liked me to demolish you."
Tom grinned. "I did, a lot!"
"I liked destroying you, too! Tom, do you love me?"
"Yeah! I do!"
"I'm not in love with you. It's not your fault, I never loved anyone in my life." Beth Ann explained. "But I still want to see you, as much as I can. And I want to make sure everyone knows we're a couple."
"Great, tell anyone you want."
"I sure will!"
From nowhere, Beth Ann's fist smacked Tom's head.
When he woke five minutes later, Tom was on his feet in front of a full length mirror on the bedroom door. Beth Ann's deep purple seal of ownership encircled his right eye. She gave Tom an excited kiss.

Tuesday, July 19, 2016

Maggie Beats Up Sam

Men always noticed the tattoos that swarmed all over both of Maggie's arms. They saw her stand up tits and toned buttocks, but the cascade of red, blue and violet inked figures and symbols seemed to smack them across the face.
The skin art, along with her lean body, and Maggie's regular practice of beating men senseless in the ring caused whispers at the Amazonia Boxing Club that Maggie was a lesbian. The rumor evaporated when she laid some of the men she knocked out cold.
"If she's a dyke, she's the best actress on Earth!" one of Maggie's victim-lovers, Phil, told his friend Sam. They were having an after work beer.
"And you just challenged her?" asked Sam.
"Oh yeah. No standing on ceremony with Maggie. We fought the same day."
Sam had watched the tattooed woman tear through Phil. Limp and bruised all over, Phil was carried off in round three.
"And you and her fucked that night?"
"The next night!" Phil explained. "Give Maggie a try."

After talking with Maggie for a few minutes at a coffee shop near the Amazonia, Sam complimented her skin art, asking Maggie if he was using the right term.
"They are 'tattoos', right?"
"Yep, that's correct!" Maggie looked over her arms, extended for Sam to examine.
"Do they have a special meaning?" Sam inquired. All he saw was jumble of figures and symbols.
"Yes. I get a tat for every man I knock out with my fists. I got my first one when I was nineteen!"
"These are all men you fought?"
"Not all. I'd be covered completely if that was the case. These are just the special ones."
"Special how...if I can ask?"
"Special as in they were a good fight or a good fuck...or both."
She pointed to the number "19" in vibrant cherry tones, perched on Maggie's left shoulder. "My first male opponent when I was in the police academy...Tony. He was great, I popped him out early in the match. Everyone was surprised, including me!" Maggie grinned. "We were together for two years."
Sam pressed his finger cautiously on a white and crimson image of two poker cards, side by side, the ace and two of hearts.
" 'Two Round Tommy'," Maggie answered. I knocked him out cold in the middle of round two. Tommy and I were married for five years."
"They're very beautiful, Maggie. You should be proud."
"I am, thanks."
The portrait of male and female faces being hammered by an immense black boxing glove leaped out from Maggie's right bicep.
"Who are they?" Sam asked.
"The man is Jon from a year ago." Maggie pressed a finger on Jon's image. "I sent him to dreamland in round five and we fucked the same night."
"The woman?"
Maggie stabbed the female face with her nail. "Jon's girl. She objected to us messing around, so I settled the matter with her in the ring. She was in the hospital for a week." Maggie smiled widely. "What are you doing tonight, Sam?"

"What's the blank space for?"

Maggie was on top of Sam, where she had been all night. She glanced at the patch of untouched flesh  below the "19" tattoo. "Kiss it!" she told Sam. "Now!"
Sam pressed his lips to the smooth skin.
"That space is for you."
"For me?" Sam echoed.
"I could knock you out so fast you wouldn't know it happened!"
Sam pictured the naked body pressed against him dressed in boxing gear. "Yeah, whenever you're ready, Maggie."

 By round four, Maggie was wearing Sam down, working him mostly in the mid section, with occasional head shots to keep the stars shinning brightly in his eyes.
"You gonna cum, Sam?!"  Maggie whispered in her opponent's face, pounding his belly. Sam only grunted after each punch landed. Maggie's voice and the female spectators cheering her on from ringside where millions of miles away. Maggie pasted Sam twice on the jaw.
Then she stepped away from her victim, believing he was headed for the canvas. Sam was still, arms dangling, mouth agape, eyes nearly shut. Birds were singing loudly in his ears.
Maggie silently calculated the force needed and threw her fist. The upper cut jerked Sam's head back, switching off the lights.
Emma the Ref moved in, shoving back Maggie, who was screaming "Get up bitch! Get up, you bitch!" at the lifeless fighter. Emma waved in the seconds, Desiree and Kaylee, who loaded Sam onto a stretcher and moved him to the recovery room. Maggie loved the dreamy smile Sam's face as he went by.

Three weeks later Sam got a text from Maggie: "Come look at my new tattoo!"
Sam marveled at the new tat as the morning sun illuminated the sleeping Maggie's shoulder. It was a likeness of himself in boxing gear, unconscious on the canvas. Inside the dream bubble over his head was a Valentine's heart, pierced by Cupid's arrow. The tattoo version of Sam smiled as he dreamed.