An Older Woman

Peyton watched her friend Desiree being carried from the boxing ring. The girl boxer was limp and unconscious in the supportive arms of her trainer-boyfriend Peter and Emma the Ref. In the fourth round, Desiree took two gut shots and then a hay maker to her right temple and the lights were out.
Peyton witnessed the final round and again decided Desiree was out of her mind. Desiree chose opponents by how sexually attractive she found them. Infrequently, she would find a new female lover, but most of the time she wound up stretched out on the canvas. The only sensible choice Dez ever made in her life, Peyton thought, was Peter, who as easing the girl on to a gurney.
"She's in a deep slumber!" Peter said, pulling back Desiree's eye lids, revealing solid whites. "Get the salt!" Peter ordered and began massaging Desiree's neck. A contented smile broke on the koed girl's face, subconsciously recognizing the caress of her lover's finger.
Retrieving the smelling salts, Peyton glanced at Veronica Mitchell who she would be fighting in a few minutes. Veronica seemed proud that she had just punched out a younger girl and stared back at Peyton as if she had the same plans for her.
Peyton handed the capsule of salts to Peter, who cracked the small tube beneath Desiree's pert nose.
"Dez, come on, wake up!" Peter planted gentle slaps on his girl's cheeks. Desiree groaned into consciousness.
"You okay, Dez?" Peyton asked. Slowly the prone girl's eyes opened into consciousness.
"Yeah...." Desiree murmured weakly, partially sitting up. "Did I lose Peter?"
"Badly. Lay back down." As Peter and Emma untied Desiree's gloves, Peyton looked over her friend's bare thighs. Peyton felt she understood what Peter saw in Desiree: A lunatic sexual energy that drew men and women alike to her. Desiree actually believed she could seduce the older woman in a boxing match and got knocked out cold for her assumption.
"Your turn, sweetheart!" Veronica declared to Peyton, her gold colored boxing gloves clasping the ropes. Peter and Emma had rolled Desiree to the recovery room. "Its just us girls now."
Peyton climbed between the ropes and pulled on her pale pink boxing gloves, the pair that had been so lucky for her in previous fights. Veronica flashed an approving smirk. "You're better looking than that scrawny brat girl-friend of yours."
"That so?" Their gloves smacked loudly. "You like taller girls, Veronica?"
"I like knocking them out on their cute little asses!"
Veronica moved toward her adversary languidly, gold gloves at chest level. Peyton watched Veronica's violet eyes and her lips purse seductively and...
BAM!!
Leather smacked the side of Peyton's face. The young woman staggered and then swayed in place, her face blank and her vision nebulous. Peyton was a girl again, playing on the school ground. Then Veronica was giggling loudly at her.
"Come on, bitch!" Peyton raised her gloves.
"Sure, Punching Bag Peyton!"
Veronica threw more punches at the side of Peyton's face. Peyton blocked most, but caught a nasty sting on the lower jaw. Peyton stumbled again, shocked by the older woman's strength.
In the second round, Veronica moved in circles around Peyton, fainting back from the pink fists, forcing Peyton to keep after her.
Patiently, Veronica let the young girl take three swings, most not connecting, before reciprocating with punches that grew harder and harder as Peyton's became slower.The young challenger found concentrating harder as the rounds followed. Veronica slipped around the ring and then shifted back at Peyton, fists hammering past her defenses. Veronica would press against Peyton when the pair were brawling on the ropes or in a corner.
"They're 36 D, honey!" Veronica whispered when she saw Peyton peeking at her massive tits.
The gold gloves flashed abruptly in Peyton's face. Veronica was a million miles away and the entire ring floated upward to the ceiling with a syrupy slowness.
Peyton saw Veronica's thighs, shapely and full, and wanted to kiss them.
Peyton was out cold on the canvas, flat on her belly, arms at her side, wrists up, a blissful smile on her face.

Peyton woke in a listless fashion, her head cradled in Veronica's lap. Until her vision focused, Peyton wasn't sure she hadn't had sex with Veronica.
"Hey sleepy, how do you feel?" Veronica's voice was flirtatious and oddly maternal. "You get knocked out?"
"Ohhhh....yeaaahh..." Peyton sighed. Veronica helped her sit up, still using her body to support the young girl. With the help of a neck rub, Peyton's head gradually cleared.
"How long..."
"Were you out? Five minutes. I took some digital pics of you sprawled on the canvas. I'll show them to you later."
"Later? Why later?"
"When you come around again."
"Again...uch...hey!...."
Veronica's arms snaked effortlessly around Peyton's throat and pressed below her ear.
"Hey! The fuck....!?" Peyton's weakened arms barely scraped at Veronica's clinching biceps.
"You look so pretty asleep, Peyton. I just can't help myself. Go to sleep!"
Heavy lids drooping downward, Peyton gave up struggling. The drifting sensation induced by the sleeper hold was a sweet feeling. The young woman's eyes fluttered twice and her head tilted against the bend of Veronica's elbow. There was only warm sleep.

Peyton regained consciousness on a large, comfortable bed. Instead of boxing gear, she wore nothing but pink panties.
"Where am I?" she whispered to Veronica, who wore a golden silk negligee.
"My place. I drove you home while you rested up from the sleeper."
Peyton raised her right hand and removed the thin strap from Veronica's shoulder. Part of the negligee fell away from the woman's chest.
"You knocked me out..."
"I clobbered you, Peyton."
The pair kissed and Veronica removed the other strap from her shoulder.