Boxing Isn't Sex

Joan could barely admit it to herself. She wanted Jon Amur because he knocked out women in the ring.  Being well built and darkly handsome, with blue eyes that resembled a tiger's, fired lust in a lot of women at the Amazonia Boxing Club. But standing ringside, match after match, thoroughly stoked Joan's sexual fascination. Even watching her ex girlfriend Anna hit the canvas, spark out cold, didn't upset her. Joan was exhilarated.

Amur had Joan a week before their scheduled bout. Joan knew better, she'd been fighting since her days on the woman's boxing team at Blake Mitchell University. Now at age twenty-four, she thought herself accomplished. Amur's intense eyes penetrated her soul and Joan was on her back pretty fast.
"You know you're going down for the count next Friday," Amur told Joan. Joan rested on her back, enjoying the afterglow of multiple orgasms. Sunrise flooded the room.
"Why?" she asked, with giddy surprise. "Wasn't this great?"
"It was fantastic!" replied Jon Amur in all honesty. He pulled on his pants and kissed Joan. "But boxing isn't fucking."
Joan grinned in response. "Yes it is!"

Jon Amur admitted to his friend Peter, the Amazonia's chief trainer, that Joan was great in bed.
"If I wanted a steady woman in my life," he elaborated. "It could easily be Joan."
There were, however, a lot of other women to sleep with, so Amur put Joan out in round three.
The deciding punch came in under Joan's radar. The female boxer had battled Amur steadily and that impressed him.
Hitting Amur was like punching a solid wall. When the female boxer showed signs of fatigue, Amur caught her in a clinch, whispering in her ear, "Sleep, pretty one!"
The force of the right upper cut briefly took Joan from her feet. Her brain was confused by the way the entire gym was moving away from her. Without warning, darkness consumed her. Joan dreamed of the contentment she knew being in Jon Amur's embrace.

Emerging minutes later from sleep, Joan saw Emma the Ref shining a small flash light in her eyes. Emma turned to the right and said, "No concussion that I see."
"Hey, Joan, honey, speak to us!?"
Joan followed the second voice to its source, Summer, her current girlfriend.
"Summer...I....feel..." Joan trailed off, looking at Amur standing across the ring, being worshipfully toweled down by two big chested blonds. "...think you're....beautiful..."
Emma and Summer finally got Joan on her feet. As they walked her to the dressing room, Joan watched Amur leave the ring, escorted by the blonds. There are other men, Joan thought.

Picture from Hit TheMats