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.
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?"
"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.
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.."
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.
"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.
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!"

Saturday, June 28, 2014

Stealing Kaylee

Stealing Kaylee from his friend Sam was not part of Marty's plan. Sam had been his friend for years. All Marty wanted to do was borrow her. Take her out for dinner while Sam was away, make sure she got palpably drunk and then fuck her all night.
But Kaylee, who was blond and usually pretty horny for guys, wasn't that stupid. With no intention of risking what she had with Sam by messing around, she responded to Marty's invitation with her own.
"Ten rounds at the Amazonia Club?" she told Marty. "Knock outs only."
Marty was flummoxed. If Kaylee wanted to box, fine! But let's wait till after the sex!
A few months earlier, Marty agreed to fight with Jasmine before they went on their date. Jasmine beat Marty black and blue before putting him down for a third round nap. A week was needed for the pain to subsided enough for Marty to even contemplate the word "female," much less the phrase "spend the night with a.."
"Okay, fine," he agreed, his hormones drowning whatever common sense existed in his brain. Looking over Kaylee's stand up tits and round, full ass, Marty couldn't help himself.

Through the subsequent pounding he took, Marty scalded himself for looking in Kaylee's eyes, which were a dark, frozen blue, expecting to find mercy. There was none.
"You need to be taught a lesson about women!"
Kaylee had worked Marty into a neutral corner very early in the fourth round. Now, with the start of the fifth, he was right back there. And Kaylee was now unleashing body shots and combinations to skull of her seducer.
"I'm not the slut you wanted me to be, Marty!"
The anger she had felt at Marty's proposal had changed during the fight into pleasure at inflicting pain with her fists.
Kaylee bobbed back on her feet from Marty, whose entire body seemed to have transformed into jelly.
Sizing him up for the finisher, Kaylee whispered, "Good-night, Marty!' and delivered a left-right upper cut to the button of his chin.
Marty's head bounced up and down from the blows and his eyes closed. He felt horny and light headed all at once and went to the canvas, out cold at Kaylee's feet.

Erotic dreams danced in Marty's brain for the next ten minutes. They involved Kaylee or girls just like her, all of them wearing boxing gloves.
The one vision that remained clearest for Marty after he came to was of being in the ring, waiting for Kaylee. She strode through the ropes naked except for her red boxing gloves.
"I'm more than ready for you, Marty!" she said, stretching her arms across the top ropes as she rocked rhythmically against the turn buckle. "Are you ready for me?"
In an instant, Marty had Kaylee in his embrace, lifting her bare, toned ass and thighs onto the middle buckle and entering her.
As they fucked, Kaylee egged him on; begging for deeper penetration. At each orgasm, she hammered his bare shoulders, with her tight fists. With each orgasm, Kaylee came closer and closer to be overwhelmed by ecstasy. After the tenth blast of pleasure, she pushed Marty away.
"Please! more!...I can't!...."
"Why not?!" Marty asked, both of them gasping for air.
"You almost knocked me out! One more fuck like that and I'll be completely in love with you!"
"So?" asked Marty, kissing her nipples.
"No! No, I can't!...I'm sorry, but..."
Kaylee's right hook exploded on the side of Marty's face, sending stars everywhere. Marty smiled and went out. Kaylee lowered her KOed lover gently to the canvas.  She kissed his lips and penis.
"Maybe some day...." she said to him.

"Maybe'll learn!"
Marty was suddenly awake. He looked around the room in and saw Emma the Ref standing over him with smelling salts.
"Kaylee explained the whole thing to me after we carried you from the ring," Emma explained, pressing an ice pack to Marty's face. "She saw right through you!"
"I am going to knock that bitch out!" Marty promised through an aching jaw.

Sunday, June 15, 2014

Kaeo - The Victor

Kaeo's eyes made her seem sly and intelligent rather than beautiful. She always greeted the regulars, like Will, in the coffee and donut shop, repeating in the form of a question what they regularly bought. Will noticed her eyes sized up him and every other male who placed an order. What she was calculating, he couldn't guess, but he assumed it was an effort to answer one or more of these three questions:

1) What will this schmuck want?

2) Does he have a good job?

3)Is he a good fuck?

The shop manager informed Will that Kaeo was one of a group of Thai exchange students at nearby Blake Mitchell University. Will liked Asian women, so he started talking with Kaeo about school, work and how she missed home. When these chats went on, Will scaled back his visits to three a week and always after 8 p.m., when the manager was gone.

About when Will figured she would, Kaeo began asking vaguely probing questions. When he answers were silly or boring, Kaeo never giggled like a stereotype of an Asian girl. Instead, she replied in kind about her personal life, filling Will in on her adventures since she arrived four months ago. When Will told the technical "truth" that he had no girlfriend at that time, Kaeo admitted she'd met a lot of American men recently.

"Really? That was daring, Kaeo. Why?"

"I want to see what they"

For a moment, Will thought Kaeo's English had slipped, that she meant to say "were like." But peering into those brown eyes, he knew she said exactly what she meant.

They met up a week later when she got off shift. the questions for Will became more particular, until Kaeo asked what sport he played. He told her about the Amazonia Boxing Club. Those sly, intelligent eyes became very bright.

"You box only women?"


"I bet you win all the time."

"Sometimes. I've been knocked out cold a few times. Women are stronger than men."

"I'm stronger than you are!"

The tone in Kaeo's voice made Will want to fuck her more.

"Want to try that out?"

Blake Mitchell University housed foreign students in a chain hotel a bus ride away from campus. Kaeo shared the suite with a Vietnamese girl named May, who had found an American boyfriend, leaving the suite to Kaeo most of the time. She and Will went there. She put on her favorite bikini and the pair of red boxing gloves Will had brought along with his gear.

This one's getting knocked out, Will told himself, searching for the sweet spot on Kaeo's chin and jaw so attractively within arm's reach.

"Ready to go down?" Kaeo asked, throwing a few jabs.

"I hope you are!"

Will's right popped Kaeo in the stomach. She bent forward, gasping desperately, chin jutting out. The left that followed put Kaeo out on her feet.

The black haired girl stood between Will and the double bed. Pulling off his gloves, Will pushed shut Kaeo's dangling lower jaw and thumbed open her eyes. He flattered himself on how effective the KO sucker punch had been - there was nothing but whites behind the lids he pushed up.

"You're so beautiful, honey pot!" Will told his victim. "If you can hear me,'Sweet dreams!' "

Kaeo lifted into the space over the bed, landing with two distinct bounces, before her body settled into deep sleep on the covers.

Will took a small digital camera from his bag and recorded Kaeo, prone and limp, on the mattress. Kneeling beside the bed, he kissed the sleeping beauty. He placed her gloved hands between her legs and took another picture. Removing the gloves quickly, Will slipped the bare hands under the bikini, pressing the fingers into her labia. A faint smile moved over Kaeo's face. That was worth four pictures. He then pulled the bikini bottom all the way to her ankles and fitted the gloves back on her hands, letting them rest on her pussy.

Kaeo groaned, signalling her return to the conscious world.

Will snapped a few more pictures and pulled her bikini back up to her waist. After a minute, Kaeo sat up, searching her environment in confusion.

"What happened to me?" she asked in a hazy, distant manner.

"Don't you remember?" Will asked as he went into the bathroom, returning with a plastic glass of water and two aspirin he found in a drawer.


Kaeo took the glass and pills from will and gulped down the medicine. She was becoming more focused.

"I knocked you out cold, put one right on your chin."

Will took back the empty glass and Kaeo settled her head back on the pillow, accepting defeat.

Tuesday, June 3, 2014

The Elegant Amazon

He watched Janie Ellison, dressed in a white summer dress, gym bag dangling over one shoulder, stride across the gym to the boxing ring.
Warren could not stop staring.
The dress, out of place in the gym, contrasted erotically with with Janie's dark brown skin. It was strapless, giving Warren, her scheduled opponent, a clear view of Janie's elegant throat and smooth, powerful shoulders. She was in bare feet.
Tossing the gym bag between the ropes, Janie hoisted herself into the ring, grinning at Warren. In one graceful movement, she retrieved her bag, went to the corner directly opposite Warren and removed her favorite pair of boxing gloves.
"Hi Warren!" she called to him softly, but clearly across the ring. "Help me with these!"
Warren went to Janie like iron fillings to a magnet - without a thought. Janie extended her hands, over which Warren pulled over the gloves.
"You're going to box dressed like that?" he asked while he tied up the strings.
"Of course not, cutie!"
Warren was smacked by another smile.
"I wouldn't wear this dress. Unzip the back,"
Warren saw himself clasping Janie in his arms, kissing her neck and shoulders, telling Janie how lovely she was. He pulled down the zipper down to her buttocks, wanting to see every bit of her exposed body. Oh God, please! Warren begged to himself.
Janie swerved to look Warren in the eyes. "Good job! Practice always pays off!"
She moved a few steps away and lightly shook her torso. The white dress fell to the canvas, circling her bare feet.  Janie stepped back to Warren and said, "See?!"
"The Elegant Amazon" was the nickname that had become attached to Janie at the Amazonia Boxing Club and Warren saw how perfectly it fit.
Her slender legs, at once muscular and feminine, pulled his eyes up her firm thighs and buttocks, which were clothed in tight boxing trunks. A flat midsection supported a pair of round breasts in a sports bra. Both her liquid brown eyes and purple-red lips smiled at Warren.
"Go put your gloves on!" the lips ordered gently. "I'm ready for the fight, are you?"
"Yeah!" Warren answered with a steadiness that impressed Janie.
She knew exactly how horny he was.
He pulled on his gloves, staring at the "V" formed by meeting of Janie's legs beneath the trunks. The automatic buzzer screeched the start of round one.
Janie and Warren came at each other instantly, fists up. Warren only glimpsed her right glove jerking forward and nothing.
He landed on the canvas loudly and on his back. Janie decided he was very handsome prone at her feet. Inside Warren's sleeping brain, a movie flickered on.
Janie was back in her white dress, resting her elbows on the top ropes of the ring, leaned back, watching Warren move toward her and effortlessly taking her in his arms, pulling her into a long kiss. Slowly, he moved his hands over Janie's legs, slipping a finger behind the waistband of her panties, that fluttered to the ground.
"Please, Warren!" she begged in his ear.

Warren woke abruptly, right where he had landed, but with Janie resting her head on his bare chest. "Hey handsome, miss me?"
Janie fondled the growing erection stretching the front of his trunks.
As they drove to Warren's apartment, Janie wondered if she had a new boyfriend. By the next morning, she was certain.  

Thursday, May 22, 2014

Tinga Again

You knew Tinga liked you if she gave you the KO early, so you could be dispatched with the least amount of damage. Deep in her soul, she loved beating up men, but an early finish meant she wanted sex with her opponent as soon as possible.
As a rule, she only boxed guys, except when a jealous girl friend or wife got upset when Tinga was after her man. I watched the two round bout between my friend Desiree and Tinga, who actually was after Desiree's husband.
Desiree was quickly converted into an all purpose heavy bag in round one and got knocked out in the next. Seeing the limp and unconscious Desiree carried from the ring by her husband and May, I wished Desiree hadn't married.
Tinga finished with me even sooner. I did walk into the ring with a serious stiffy for my challenger and maybe a little in love with her, too. Tinga was aggressively sexy without being traditionally pretty and she knew it.
Right from the bell, she gave me a leg show while she struck and retreated, punched and blocked. I kept wanting to feel up her thighs when I pressed her against the ropes, a warm up to getting her trunks down. Tinga stepped in with a right I never saw or felt. The lights just snapped off.
Emma the Ref told me later that I was stretched out comically on my feet. My eyes rolled up and my jaw dangled losely as I went sideways to the canvas, out cold.
The spectators (all women) broke out in laughter when I rolled over on my back, showing off the erection I was popping after my close quarters beating by the amazon. Kaylee and Jasmine, my seconds and sometime sex partners, giggled as they loaded me on a gurney and rolled me to the dressing room. Tinga followed, completely fascinated with my condition.
while Emma and Jasmine worked on bringing me back from dreamland, Kaylee waited outside the door, blocking Tinga from entering.
"I just want to see if he's okay," she said. "He might need my help."
"With what?" Kaylee demanded.
"You saw him! Rich has serious lenoso, like he's never showed you! I don't think you can take care of that."
Tinga assumed, mistakenly, that Kaylee had no Spanish vocabulary. "Get out!" Kaylee ordered, territorially.
Kaylee lead with her left, but Tinga was faster. A bare fist hammered Kaylee below the sternum. The sudden upper cut stood Kaylee straight up and knocked her out cold.
"Duerma bien, marrana!" spat Tinga when Kaylee hit the wooden floor.
Ten minutes later we found Kaylee sprawled by the door and Emma knew what happened.

I was turned on by fighting Tinga, but seeing what she'd done to Kaylee clinched it. A few days later, Tinga and I had coffee and fucked for the entire afternoon in her apartment.