The Cougars' Tales - Two on One

Even the chance of a three way with Anna and Donna provoked Sam into accepting the boxing match Anna proposed.
Anna had retired recently from professional female boxing and worked out regularly at the Amazonia Boxing Club. She became friends with Donna quickly. They were both Cougars, on the hunt for younger men like Sam. The men at the Amazonia called the pair "The Salt and Pepper Cougars," because Anna was black and Donna was white.
Sam was aware that Anna was a trained fighter, with a record of  twenty-five wins (9 KOs) and one loss. She had leveled every man she fought at the Amazonia. Sam had been with Donna already, both in the ring and in bed, and was open to more of both.
"No, I'm going to referee," explained Donna. "You'll get a fair fight."
Sam recalled that both his fights with Donna left him out cold. After their second night together, Sam begged Donna to marry him. She answered by knocking him out a third time.
"But we'll see how things go after the match," she added, kissing Sam warmly.

When Anna, dressed in black gloves, shorts, and top, smiled at Sam, he nearly froze in his tracks. But she kept smiling and walking across the ring to him, gently shaking her arms and shoulders to keep her muscles lose.
"Ready for you bruising?"
The question was threatening, but Anna's voice was soft and alluring, making Sam hornier than when he first climbed through the ropes.
Sam answered,"You ready to get knocked out?"
Anna smacked her gloves together. "What do you think, Donna? Knock him fucking out fast or slow?"
"Fast." Donna said, giving Sam the evil erotic smile that always gave him a jolt.
"Yeah, fast!" agreed Anna. "Let's get this going!"

Good for her word, Anna started in on Sam. Like all the men Anna fought at the Amazonia, Sam seemed more interested in fucking than fighting. Anna put him down twice in three rounds. Each time Sam was able to beat Donna's count.As he stood up after the second knock down, Sam realized that if he was going to have a three way, he was going to have to earn it.
In round five, Anna forced Sam onto the ropes and worked his mid section. The she stepped up her assault on his chin and jaw, search for his sweet spot.
"Are you getting excited, Sam?!" Anna whispered in his ear as she pounded his belly. "Got wood for me?"
WHAM!
A right hook tagged Sam on the chin.
"Yes!" Donna shouted, seeing Will's eyes roll up in their sockets. "Yes! Yes!"
Sam's brain went dark and then shut off. His body, going limp, pitched to the canvas at Anna's feet.
While Donna delivered the ten count, Anna quickly flipped the unconscious male on his back. He was out cold, a smile across his face."Ten! He's out!" Donna said, laughing out loud as she sat with her friend beside the prone boxer. Both women stared with anticipation at the bulge in Sam's trunks.
"Donna?" Anna invited.
"Oh no, I've done him lots of times, you go ahead."
Anna yanked down Sam's trunks and slipped her glove around his exposed erection. Rapidly, she masturbated the young man until cum sprayed from his penis.
"Okay, your turn!"  Anna said, whipping the cum from her glove on Sam's bare chest. Donna fondled the penis back to red stiffness and jerked Sam into orgasm. He let out a low happy moan.

Sam came around in the back seat of Donna's car. "Wha...happened...?"
"Look who's awake!" Donna exclaimed. She held up her right fist, enclosed by a boxing glove. Anna nodded. Donna turned around completely to see Sam. "You know you love it!" admonished Donna.
A blurry red streak came at Sam. After the explosion, it was dark.

That night, Sam got his three way. Already used to having Sam in bed, Donna fucked him for an hour and then let Anna have their cub for the rest of the night. During that time, Anna fell in love with Sam.
Sam woke late and found Anna fast asleep next to him, a dreamy smile on her lips. In the kitchen, he saw Donna fully dressed and ready to leave.
"Where are you going?" he asked. sounding like an unhappy child.
"Home." Donna noticed the wistful lust in Sam's eyes. "I just wanted some sex with you, Sam. You really belong with Anna now."
"Come on, don't go yet..."
Sam took Donna in a long kiss. She savored being in his arms again, his hold made her feel warm and secure. The upper cut she landed was short and sharp. Sam slumped against her.
She carried her lover back into Anna's bedroom and sat him on the bed. Pulling away the blankets, she shifted Sam toward Anna's naked backside and nudged him forward. The unconscious male landed face first on the sleeping girl's ass cheek.
"It's where you belong, honey!" Donna said.

The Cougars' Tales - Sam Goes Down for Donna

There were two certainties about stepping in the ring with Donna.
One: You are getting knocked out. No guy whoever fought Donna didn't need to be carried out after the ten count.
Two: You were getting laid. Donna only boxed men, usually the ones she wanted to fuck. Putting the male opponenet she craved on the canvas was just emphatic foreplay for Donna.
On the day of her forty-third birthday, she decided to give herself a present and picked Sam from the few men at the Amazonia Boxing Club she had not had sex with. Besides being handsome and good-natured, he was the type she liked to beat on.
Sam accpeted with no hesitation, as Donna figured he would. He was known to have nailed a string of the twenty-something gym bunnies that crowded the Amazonia, but it was obvious that the recent college graduate was a cub in search of his Mama Cougar.
They were the best, Donna believed.

Though her body was in fighting trim and her tits round and firm, Donna wore her gold, one piece bathing suit for the match. Other suits flattered her figure much more, but this one highlighted her considerable sluty vibe. Sam picked up on it immediately after climbing between the ropes for their "knockouts only" bout.
"Come on, boy, you might do it!" Donna taunted after the automatic buzzer sounded.
"No man has ever koed you!"
"That's right!"
Donna began swinging at her intended, with Sam falling in right after her. She kept in close, taking whatever punches of his that connected, some of which stung.
You just want to fight your mama, thought Donna as she slammed a punch to each side of Sam's skull.
The ring flipped upside down and Sam traveled with it. Through the complete chaos in his central nervous system, Sam felt a third punch explode in his belly. Then he was falling and felt nothing.

When Sam opened his eyes again, Donna was seated by his side, just taking her eyes away from the moster erection in his trunks to greet the reviving fighter.
"You were nighty-night for awhile there!"
Donna kissed her semi conscious victim and slowly pulled down his trunks. Still wearing her boxing gloves, Donna clasped Sam's cock and rubbed it against her face, smiling when the tip touched her lips. A wave of pleasure rippled through the prone fighter.
"I like it, Sam," Donna chirped and kissed the top of the penis. Letting it slip, Donna leaned in Sam's face, right fist raised. "I like it a lot. We're going to be good friends! But first things first...."
Sam watched as the fist went back and sail at him. There was a loud "THWAP!" and Sam felt sleep cover him like a warm blanket.

Donna was seated on a wooden stool in her corner, naked, right leg crossed on the left. Her still gloved fists rested on the middle ropes of the turn buckle she rested against. Sam was already standing up, waking from his second knock out five minutes earlier. His eyes were wide and vision cleared abruptly when he saw Donna seated regally.
Donna took her leg down, revealing her perfect, brown haired pussy. A boxing glove slipped from the ropes and came to rest on her flat stomach.
Sam was on his feet, swiftly put his face into Donna's pubic hair, his tongue beginning to stimulate her clit. Donna pushed the back of Sam's head with her both her gloves and began, between moans, tell Sam how good he was doing.
For the next hour, the couple fucked against the ropes and turn buckles. Sam never faltered, giving his lover every orgasm she needed.
After she came the last time, Donna smiled predatorily at Sam.
"Let's go back to my place, okay?"
"Yes!" Sam was able to mumble, nearly out of breath.
WHAP! POW!
Two bare knuckled fists hit Sam on the jaw. The young man went stiff for a moment, then slowly swayed, sideways, eyes closing and a smile forming on his lips. Donna caught him across her right shoulder and carried Sam out to her car.

Desiree: A Love Story

Manic energy radiated from Desiree, especially from her bright, liquid brown eyes. She had what I call "IT" and what other guys at the Amazonia Boxing Club termed "The Crazies."
You could say she was skinny girl, but training had built up her arms, legs and hips, increasing and not diminishing her femininity. As we discussed the knock outs only match she challenged me to, her eyes held me. Desiree looked at you as if she were deciding whether to fuck you or knock you out. I couldn't say if Desiree was sure herself.
I accepted, but with hesitation. Everyone told me Desiree and her husband, Peter, were happy together and with their two small daughters.  Desiree also kept multiple female lovers in short term relationships, a fact that did not upset Peter in the least.
"Why ruin all that?" Emma the Ref asked me. "They've been a couple for nearly ten years, like each other's missing pieces."
"How would fighting me ruin anything?"
"Desiree stopped boxing men after Peter and her met."
I found out later that Desiree had scheduled our match for a weekend Peter and the children would be out of town.

"I fought this guy, one time," Desiree told me, talking over Emma the Ref' reciting the fight rules. "He was like you, really good looking. In the fourth round...POW!"
Desiree smacked her gloves together. "I knocked him spark out!"
"Not surprised to hear that!" said Emma, looking askance at her friend. "You two ready?"
"Sure am!" Desiree declared.
"Yeah!" I said.
I started slowly, just moving along with Desiree, figuring it was best to let the shorter fighter be the aggressor.
"Come on, hit me! You're dying to!" Desiree shouted, her eyes burning into me. "Now! Do it! You wan..."
WHAM!
The punch put Desiree on her back, motionless, eyes closed. For a long moment, Emma the Ref and I stared at the girl on the canvas, who finally stirred and groaned. Desiree sat up, tenderly caressing the spot on her jaw where my fist had impacted. Words began to slip from Desiree's mouth.
"Oooff...that... was..hard..you do like me..."
Emma the Ref rolled her eyes and pulled Desiree up. "Dez, don't embarrass yourself!"
"What?" Desiree asked, with sudden sharpness. "He doesn't...?"
I interrupted. "Maybe she should sit down a bit before we start again?"
"No, I can...."
Desiree went jelly-legged when she leaned against Emma. "No, not yet, you can't!"
I watched Emma guide Desiree back to her folding chair, wondering at the chances of a three way. I dismissed it immediately. Emma was very attractive, but Desiree was the end game.

Desiree came out strong and moved fast, trying to be a moving target too mobile to pin down. I waited, taking my punches like a gentleman, counter punching hard at her midsection to wear her down.
After three rounds, Desiree was looking spent. Weariness clouded her eyes. When she fired an over hand right at my head, I ducked in close and slugged Desiree on the chin. She landed on the ropes, which cradled my opponent long enough for me to close in.
With her arms dangling by her side, Desiree;'s body was wide open. I smiled at her flat, smooth belly and pounded home a harsh left-right combo, that forced out what little air Desiree had been able to breath in. I caught her as she dropped to her knees, propping Desiree on the ropes.
I held my right fist in her face. "You see it, girl? This is the glove that's going to knock you straight out!"
Desiree made a slow nod.
"Kiss it!"
Tilting her head slightly, Desiree pressed her lips to the leather of my glove. Her lips then parted with an audible "SMACK."
"I..need.." she began to whisper.
WHAP!
The right upper cut detonated on Desiree's jaw. In a slow, graceful movement, Desiree's head jerked back and her limbs turned to water. She flopped on the canvas.

You'd think after the way I belted her off to Dreamland, Desiree wouldn't speak to me.
Emma and I carried the completely limp girl boxer to the recovery room. She was out cold for ten minutes. After she came to, Desiree grinned at me like a hunch she had was confirmed.

That night, Desiree and I fucked for hours in a hotel room.
The next morning we ate the breakfast I cobbled together from the lobby and Desiree handed me the single boxing glove she had brought along.
"This was a great weekend, thank you." She gave me a long, affectionate kiss as we stood by the bed. Desiree wore nothing but red silk panties. "One more time before you go?"
When Desiree pulled the glove over my right hand, I looked at her visibly perplexed.
"Peter would never and never will hit me. That's why I love him and had his children." Desiree kissed me again. "But part of me needs to get...hit...by a man who...makes me horny..."
I held up my hand, stopping Desiree's explanation. I saw that I was not Peter or one of her girlfriends or whatever random male she may have been with in the past.
I cocked my glove below my waist as far as it would go.
"Good night, pretty one!"
BAP!
Desiree lifted off her feet and landed on the bed, senseless.
As I pulled off the glove, I saw inscribed on the palm "Property of Peter DeWalt. Merry Christmas!"
I placed Desiree's feet on the bed and pulled the covers over her. After I slipped two pillows under her head, I kissed Desiree good bye and closed the door quietly behind me.

The Cougars' Tales - Nephele the Villianess

 
The black jack hit Cat Girl precisely at the base of the skull. The cowl absorbed much, but not all, of the force of the blow. Tendrils of pain reached into her brain and turned off the lights.
Super criminal Nephele stood over her victim, admiring how efficiently she had KOed the young crime fighter.
"So stupid, little one, so stupid!" she whispered.
These good girls are so worked up to demonstrate what they can do, Nephele thought, dragging the inert member of Justice Force into the next room and tossing her on the couch. Cat Girl landed against her partner, Scarlet Vixen, head resting on Vixen's shoulder. Nephele secured Cat Girl's wrists and ankles with plastic security strips, as she had done ten minutes before to Scarlet Vixen. The two looked so cute next to each other, exploring Dreamland, that Nephele took digital pictures of the pair. When she returned to her lair, she would post the images at the Bad Girls website, under the tab "Good Girls Out Cold and Dreaming." She gave both super heroines a kiss.

Nephele knew there were two more Justice Force agents in her hideout. Four operatives were always sent on arrest missions: two for the collar and two for backup. And the second pair had to join their associates in La La Land.
Nephele began her career at 19 as an apprentice house breaker and, over the next twenty-eight years, rose to an executive position in the Sisterhood of Evil crime syndicate, until it was smashed by Justice Force. She had renewed success in her old profession of cat burglar, but was now looking to retire with her accumulated wealth, to a far away country.
Now Justice Force was gumming up the works by trying to bring her in.
Well, Nephele decided, spotting Justice Force agent Night Ghost down the hall, at least Justice Force made a point of fielding only earnest, strong minded, and astoundingly careless agents, complete with glass jaws.
"I can't raise either of them!" she heard Night Ghost murmur into her wrist communicator. Nephelle was standing right behind her. "I know something has happened!"
Night Ghost turned sharply when her shoulder was tapped. "Cat Girl!? Where have..."
WHAP!!
Nephele concentrated as much spite as she could muster into the right hook to Night Ghost's chin.
"...uuuu...vvv..been...?"
Behind her mask, Night Ghost's eyes crossed and went to the hard floor, spark out.
A voice cried urgently from the wrist communicator. "Night Ghost! What was that? Are you okay, sweetheart?!"
Sweetheart? wondered Nephele. It was a male voice and Nephele liked the way it sounded.

"Justice Force is letting the eye candy out on missions!"
The handsome young man turned swiftly in response to Nephele's remark.
"Nephele?"
"In the flesh!"
"What have you done with Night Ghost and the other girls?"
"No permanent damage. They're all taking a nap." Nephele walked up to the young man and pulled him into a deeply sexual kiss. "What's your name, boy?"
"Brad..."
"Of course. Which one of the sleeping beauties are you tapping?"
"Tapping?" Brad answered, befuddled and aroused. "Oh, yeah...Night Ghost..."
"Impressive! Our intelligence on Night Ghost said she liked sea food."
"See...no, she wanted to try men..."
"So she got a practice model." Nephele clinched her right fist behind her back.
"Let me guess. Things didn't work out with Lady Puma, so Night Ghost went looking for something different?"
"She loves me!"
"You bet! One last question before I knock you out: Brad, do you get a stiffy thinking of older women?"
Nephele interrupted Brad's reply with another kiss. "Yes, you do!"
POW!
The upper cut put Brad out on his feet. Looking her victim over, his eyes glassed and jaw hanging slack, Nephele decided she didn't want to go into retirement alone.

Nephele had measured the force of the punch precisely, hitting Brad just hard enough to leave him unconscious for an hour, just long enough to transport him to her default safe house. He started coming around very soon after she dumped him on her bed and began removing his cloths.
"Where am I?"
"In my bedroom...your dreams have all come true!"
"Where's Night Ghost and Scarlet...."
"When I left, they were all resting comfortably. By now, they're in a hospital."
Brad's vision cleared. "Whoa!"
Nephele sat on the bed at his side, completely naked. She was guiding his hand over her firm, white thighs and soft, black haired pussy. "You lost the first round by a knockout. How many rounds do you have left?"

Brad made it round 20, Nephele scored the second knockout. While her exhausted lover dreamed of her, Nephele made breakfast and completed her travel arrangements. She decided Brad was coming with her, even if she had to conk him on the head and smuggle him out in steamer trunk. But after last night, she doubted there would be any problems.
Nephele was in love.
"But I'm in love with Night Ghost and she loves me!"
This tiresome formality, Nephele thought, putting a cigarette to her lips.
"You fucked me like a champ last night, ever have that with Little Miss Can't Decide?"
Brad knew she was right. Nephele had rocked his world and he wanted more.
"I owe her..."
"Nothing!" Nephele said, igniting the cigarette and blowing pink smoke in Brad's face. The smell was light and sweet and Brad was unable to stop himself from breathing it in. Suddenly he felt heavy. Nephelle took him in a long kiss. "That's your kiss good night, Brad. We're going on a trip, you and I!'
"Whe...where...?"
"A nice country in South America with lots of sun, warm weather and no extradition treaties."
Another cloud of smoke collided with Brad.
Everything slowed down for the young man. He wanted to get up, but all Brad did was look dreamily at Nephele's face and melon sized tits. There was a strong desire from the base of his being to kiss Nephele's pussy, to show her how much he loved her and wanted her.
Brad's eyes drooped down steadily until the shut. Brad was out cold and on his way to a whole new life.     

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.

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 it 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 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.
Rex might not want to fuck after I lay him out for the count, she thought and became very nervous.
But the desire kept nagging. 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 made Adrienne look like a slut.
"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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!"

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!....no 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..."
WHACK!!
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 someday...you'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.
 

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 ...like..."

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?"

"Only."

"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.

"No!"

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.

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?"
"I...wha...?"
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.  

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.
"Hagame!"
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.

 

The Amazonia Boxing Club 1953

Jake was dating Aja for more than a month when she asked if he ever fought a woman.
"You mean physically? With my fists?"
They were both laying in Jake's bedroom in his new apartment in New York City. It was the spring of 1953 and Jake had just moved to Manhattan after college. Aja was a first for Jake: his first girlfriend in the big city and the first African-American girl he dated.
"Yeah, exactly." Aja explained, snuggling next to her lover.
"No! Why?"
"Ever wanted to?"
When Jake hesitated, Aja knew the truth: Yes, secretly, he did.
"There's a social club forming in the Wall Street area for people interested in private matches between males and females. Most of the members will be women."
"Oh yeah?!" Jake asked. "What's it going to be called?"
Aja gave Jake an affectionate peck on the cheek. "We're calling it the 'Amazonia Boxing Club'."
"And you're part of it?"
"A founding member."
Aja had the kind of body Jake really loved, athletic and big breasted. Helping form such a club made sense. Aja and her friends could do what they liked in private, Jake decided. But Jake, so lank and skinny, was baffled by Aja's attraction to him. One thing he had learned in his brief 23 years, however, was not to ask what a female found appealing about him - it wouldn't be what you thought and the truth would be unsettling.
"Can I join?"
"Of course, you're my man! And in light of that, I have a favor to ask..."
"What?"
"We want to have a mixed match for the opening night and I was wondering if you'd like to...participate?"
"In a boxing match? With a woman?!"
Aja had him.
"Correct."
"Who would I be fighting?"
"That's my surprise, honey stick. I think you'll be very pleased."
"Do I know her?"
"No."
"Somebody famous?"
"You'll know her on sight, especially you..."
"Barbara Eden? Marilyn! Brigette Bardot!?"
"No!" Aja admonished him. "We're a small organization. But you'll be very pleased. Even after she knocks you the fuck out!"

Sixty people, almost all women, had assembled in the main gym of the newly opened Amazonia Boxing Club. They crowded around a boxing ring in the center of the room, nosily anticipating the start of the Club's first mixed match.
Jake sat straight in his corner, his shoulders being rubbed down by Aja and her older by one year sister, Amanda. The corner opposite him, reserved for his opponent, was empty.
The ring side bell clanged, heralding the entrance of Mercedes Assommeur, the Amazonia's Board of Trustees director, into the ring, illuminated by a white spot light. Waving to the membership, she took hold of a metal microphone that was lowered to her from the ceiling.
"Ladies and a few gentlemen, I am Mercedes, welcome to The Amazonia Boxing Club!"
A wild cheer came from the crowd, displaying joy at the Club finally being open and their respect and awe for the sexy blond who would be its leader.
"Tonight's main event will be 20 round, knockouts only, mixed fight! This match will not be over until one of the contests is knocked out!"
The spectators cheered a second time, even louder.
"On my right is our male fighter, Jake 'The Big Snake' Collins, the boyfriend of one of our esteemed trustees, Aja Torres!"
Jake stood, with his gloves raised, accepting the cheers that were meant for Aja.
"And his opponent...our special guest for Opening Night at the Amazonia...you've seen this rising model in Wink and Eyeful magazines...please welcome..Miss Bettie Page!!"
The spot light fell on a large black curtain on the far side of the gym. It drew apart suddenly and Bettie Page strode out. Giving the crowd her "girl-next-door" smile, Page  waved to assembled Club members, all of whom, including Jake, were adulate. Bettie wore a black trunks and T-shirt, both tailored to cling to the female form. Her black boxing gloves matched her hair color perfectly.
"Her!?...Really?..." Jake asked the empty air.
"Really." Aja declared. "You like?"
"Damn!" was Jake's response.
Climbing through the ropes to her corner, Bettie Page waved and blew Jake a kiss.
When they were working out the contract for the match, Aja made it clear to Bettie that it was expected that Jake would be taking a nap.
Mercedes waved the fighters to the center of the ring, where they touched gloves.
"Well, handsome, are you ready for me?"
Delivered in a honey-drenched, Tennessee accent, the question made Jake melt inside and make a tent in his trunks.
"Ah...yeah!..."
"I heard your punches are very..penetrating! Are you going to make me feel it?"
Oh God, Jake begged. Let me fuck her just once!
Unbearably horny, Jake was the first one out when the buzzer sounded. Bettie followed, her right pulled back like a sling shot.
BOOOFFFF!!!
 Jake was not certain if that sound was made by the lamb skin boxing glove smacking his face or made by himself seconds after. There wasn't much time to decide, Jake was spark out on the canvas.

As Amanda and Aja carried Jake from the canvas to the corner, Jake heard Aja call Bettie Page "white boy's kryptonite" and dreamed of sex with his opponent.
A blurry version of his seconds appeared in front of Jake, their lips moving soundlessly. Jake always wanted to fuck Amanda and had a day dream about a threesome with the sisters. The fantasy grew in erotic detail until a face full of water shocked him
"What! What is it?" Jake blurted. "What happened?"
"Bettie knocked you out!" said Amanda.
"I?...Did?"
"Yes, honey, you did."
Even Aja's direct response could not get Jake's wandering brain to focus. "But why? We were going to fuck right now....Bettie loves me!"
Aja glanced at her sister with a nod and another bucket of water hit Jake's face. This time he spurted and cursed. Aja knew he was back.

The took up immediately, with Bettie taunting Jake while she worked on wearing him down.
"I see I made you feel it!" she teased him.
In round three, Bettie fixed Jake on the ropes and started working him over, with surgical calm. The crowd demanded Bettie score a knockout victory.
A minute later, Jake began to sag. Bettie proped him onto the top rope.
"You probably would have fired your wad if you knocked me out!" she told him, but it was not likely Jake could hear her. "Too bad!"
A right hook hammered Jake's lower jaw.
Lost in blackness, Jake heard his body smash painfully on the canvas.
The raven haired amazon strutted around the ring as Jake was counted out.  Aja and Amanda carried a stretcher into the ring and loaded Jake on board.
While she reveled in making Jake unconscious with her fists, Bettie Page felt bad she'd hurt such a nice guy so she called him a week later for a date.

Helena Returns

Meeting women like Helena was the reason Rob joined The Amazonia Boxing Club. Boxing was great exercise, boxing with women was a fun way for Rob to get what he wanted: laid.
"One man woman" was not the label attached to Helena, which was fine by Rob. He was in lust with the skinny, but shapely blond. The response he got to asking Helena for a match outside the Amazonia was a startling, but appealing "Yes!" If she liked the guy, Helena would do a boxing match at her townhouse, generally in her spacious bedroom.
There was the formality of going of a few dates, a vetting process to make sure the victim was safe to be alone with, but Helena believed, that formality could be waved.
"Any wrestling?" Rob asked.
"If I let you have a rematch." she answered, coyly.
"There will be a rematch?"
"Of course!" Helene assured Rob, as she sized him up. "I never not knock out a guy in the ring, especially someone like you."
"I hope you'll be kind to me."
Helena went with a hunch and invited Rob do her place after two dates, instructing him to bring his fighting gear.
"Don't worry, I have a first aid kit." she told him.

Fists up at the first round, Helena put on her blank-pouty expression, which she knew drove men like Rob crazy. And a distracted opponent was a knocked out opponent.
Rob, of course, became aggressive, pursuing Helena around the ring for two rounds. She ducked or blocked nearly everything he threw. Helena only laughed when she was knocked down twice. The punches were harder the second time, but Helena taunted Rob about how horny he was clearly becoming.
"You need to be careful, boy!" Helena observed, glancing briefly at the front of his trunks with anticipation. "You could trip on the rod you're..."
BAP!!
The left hook slammed into Helena's chin. A galaxy of stars went super nova in the skinny blonde's brain. On Cloud Nine, Helena floated peacefully, enjoying the flashing pinwheels and the warm blackness that consumed her.
When she woke ten minutes later, Helena was not sure if the entire evening had been a dream. But seeing Rob tower over her and the sudden throbbing in her face proved the last hour had been very real.
"I..I..want..."
"Okay, Helena, relax."
Rob guided the clobbered girl to the edge of her bed, allowing her to sit down.
"I want...to..."
"What?" asked Rob.
"I want to...fuck you..."
"I'm sure you do, but you need to rest first. I clocked you good."
Helena's attention drifted, she was making a decision.
"That's why you're here...to fuck..."
Her soft blue eye rolled up and Helena flopped back fast asleep.

They started fucking a few hours after Helena fully recovered. Most of the time, she was continually horny for a man, but Rob's knockout punch unleashed a powerful spirit in Helena. She rode her opponent all night.
Since it was Saturday morning, Helena let Rob sleep in and she made scrambled eggs and toast.Training Rob had gone well for both of them, she decided. There was just one more phase to be completed before she could take total ownership.
Helena wanted to wrestle Rob after he ate a late breakfast. Rob agreed. He'd put her to sleep with one punch, a quick sleeper would be just as effective. Stupid skinny slut, Rob reminded himself.

After preliminary grabbing and locking up, Rob found he was being worked over by the stupid skinny slut. In rapid succession, Rob took a series of elbows to the jaw and gut shots, plus out right punches that Helena called "love taps."
 Helena completed trouncing Rob, now on his knees, with a knee to the chin, dazing the exhausted male. Rob's vision jolted into focus when Helena contracted her lean arms around his throat, keeping blood from his brain.
"You are my bitch, now!" she whispered seductively in Rob's ear as his arms flew in multiple directions to break the hold. Helena pulled Rob against her, wanting to feel his body against her own. Rob weakened and seemed to melt in her arms.
"You going under, Rob!?"
He replied with a vague grunt.
"Okay, then, close your eyes..."
Helena kissed her lover and began singing softly: "I'm gonna knock you out! Mama said knock you out..!"
Every time the purred the words "I'm gonna knock you out!" Helena flexed her bicep further into Rob's neck, pushing him toward dreamland. Her voice had the tenderness of a mother singing to a child and a seductress enticing her lover.
Reality for Rob became quiet and dim and he didn't struggle any further. His hands now rested on Helena's bare thighs.
Helena delivered the final arm squeeze, making her victim "uuufff" passively. Releasing the hold, Helena slipped from under Rob, who fell heavily on the bed.
She yanked down his shorts enough to jerk off Rob, until he came on himself. Helena felt the strong and very familiar pleasure of bringing off the man she had knocked out.
Tilting Rob's head to the side, Helena landed a chop below his ear. Rob shuddered slightly and was still. Helena knew the chop would prolong Rob's trip to Dreamland to an hour, plenty of time for him to rest up and for her to shower and eat lunch. She planned on fucking him all night, so she made him something to eat, too.