Ramona

All Ramona needed was to be a little attracted to the guy to get in the ring with him. Jessie was medium height and lanky, just the kind of man a girl like Ramona would love.
"They're like punching bags you can have sex with!" she once told her friend Emma the Ref at the Amazonia Boxing Club.  One match with a guy built like Jessie ended seconds after it began. A straight right from Ramona and her opponent (and future boyfriend) was sprawled on his back, touring Dreamland. They were together for five months. Now Ramona was feeling the "urge" again and the with Jessie, the feeling was mutual.

The match was private by Ramona's arrangement. Jessie was thrilled with a solitary mixed boxing match, but he did his best to conceal his excitement.
"Think I want to hurt you, boy?" Ramona purred. The first round bell had sounded and the pair were circling each other.
"A little!" Jessie answered. "Maybe a lot?"
Ramona hammered Jessie twice in the midsection. Doubled over, he tried to retreat, but Ramona planted her right foot on his. The next punch exploded on the side of Jessie's face.
The black girl let him slip backward, only to smack harder in the same location. Jessie was instantly suspended on the ropes. Head ringing, it was impossible for Jessie to focus on the woman in his face.
A gut shot spread agony all through his body.
Ramona pressed her gloved on Jessie's face.
"In about a minute, you're going to be out cold! Understand? In fact, I think I'm going to hospitalize you!"
Ramona read the arousal in Jessie's eyes.
"Oh, that gets you all fired up? You like the idea of a woman using her fists to put you in the hospital!"
A barrage of punches hit Jessie as he was starting to speak. Twenty seconds later, he could barely stand.
"All ready?" she asked, coyly. "This is gonna hurt!"
Instant blackness.

Jessie woke the next morning from a deep KO, laying in a hospital bed. Bruises covered his body and dark black swelling encircled his left eye. The pretty nurse told Jessie he was being kept over night for observation.

"Jessie? You awake?"
The sweet feminine whisper came from Ramona, who was peeking in the door.
The digital wall clock read 2:30 AM.
"Ramona?"
Ramona strutted in, wearing a white nurse's uniform that displayed her stunning thighs and breasts. She was carrying a gym bag, which she flung on the bed.
"We were scheduled for ten rounds...I have nine more coming to me!"
The lady fighter undid the uniform, letting it fall to the floor, revealing her naked body. 
 They fucked for about an hour. Ramona always got hot for any man she defeated in the ring, which was all of them.
After writing her number down for Jessie, Ramona, still straddling her lover like a jockey, unzipped the gym bag.
"My mother told me: "Ramona, never give it up on the first date.' But I could not help myself, I really like you, Jessie."
Ramona pulled out a single pink boxing glove and eased it slowly over her right hand. Jessie couldn't breathe.
"Don't forget to call me, Jessie, when you're finally released from the hospital. We're only getting started." Ramona kissed the boxing glove. "Say 'Nighty-night!' "
The round house to Jessie's jaw detonated a super nova and Jessie was back on Dream Street.
Ramona looked over her prone lover, out cold and dreaming of Serena Williams, and noticed his uninjured right eye. She kissed and then slugged him.
Jessie's body jerked, but he remained out of it.
"You deserved it!" she told Jessie.

 

All Tied Up

 
She was pounding my body and rattling my skull. I had been taking a beating from Donna for two rounds and Donna, the 47 year old leader of the Cougar Clique, was prepping me for a knockout.
I wanted to fuck Donna since I saw her at the Amazonia Boxing Club a few days after my membership was approved. Some of the Cougars were "fleshy," but the muscles of Donna's thighs and biceps were taunt and her breasts were more than a pleasing handful. Since her second divorce, she had rotated male and female lovers, so I knew I was standing on line. Plus, she had a rule, "Want to get with me, you have to fight me!" You couldn't say no to her, Donna's eyes just said "Fuck me, now!"
So there I stood, semi-conscious, dying to grab her thighs by my hands.
BAM!
I felt an enormous release in the blackness.
"You are out of it!" Donna's voice told me from a million miles above me. I slept for ten minutes.

"You should have seen yourself!"
Donna showed me a picture of myself on her digital camera. I was out like a light on my back, smiling face lolled to one side, a bulge in the front of my trunks.
I had come around a minute earlier, sat up on Donna's bed. Unconnected fragments of erotic dreams still flashed in my brain: Tina from a few nights ago, Mariah Carey and my ex Jasmine were thrown together in a mental jumble.
"Who's Tina?"
"Nobody..." I answered, sitting up. Donna helped me to my feet and we fell into a kiss.
"I know why you challenged me to match!" Donna started playing with my hair. "But now I need you to do something for me!"
Damn! I thought. Right here!
Donna threw a gym bag on the bed and took out a single boxing glove and some flexible rope.
"Ah...Donna...?"
"Knock me out cold, like I did to you!"
For a moment, I couldn't say anything. "You want to get punched out?"
"Yeah...a lot..by you!"
Donna gave me a long deep kiss and whispered the details in my ear.
"You sure?" I asked.
"Damn sure!"
Donna pitched her chin out an closed her eyes. "This way I'll never see it coming."
I looked at Donna's body, everything, her boobs, breasts, thighs and the serene smile on her face as she waited patiently, and felt I could have her right there. I think Donna read my thoughts and kept herself exposed.
"Slut!" I said, loudly.
The "THWACK" of leather hitting her chin exploded. Donna faltered, her eyes shut and mouth open.  She collapsed against me.

While Donna slumbered on her stomach, I carefully hog tied her as she instructed me and took pictures of her helpless on the bed. Donna was out cold for five minutes. When Donna woke, she had a massive orgasm.

   

Jeanette

The difference between a promotional model training to be a boxer and an actual boxer was clear to Jon. It lay a few feet in front of him, in the limp form of Jeanette, sprawled on canvas, face up and out cold.
After a few weeks of lessons at the Amazonia Boxing Club, this was the dark haired girl's first fight, which had gone two rounds. The modeling agency Jeanette worked for landed her a job as a spokes girl for a women's fitness equipment line. Since she would promote a line of fighting gear, it was decided she would learn how to box.
She was prone at the feet of Desiree, a friend of Jon's. He knew why Dez, a better fighter, grabbed at the chance to beat a beginner senseless. Like Jon, Dez wanted to sleep with Jeanette.
That Desiree was standing in Jeanette's corner for the next fight told Jon that Desiree had been a success. He wasn't discouraged, women came and went with Desiree pretty regularly.

                               

Denise used Jeanette for a heavy bag, making the model jerk in agony with each punch. Jon watched the conclusion of the fight with increasing arousal, strengthened by knowing Jeanette was about to be finished off.
Two gut shots doubled over the brunette, her eyes closing from exhaustion. Jeanette's wary moan was the signal Denise was anticipating.
A pounding right upper cut straigntened out the brunette completely. Lower jaw hanging up, gloves dangling below her waist, Jeanette let her eyes shut, and gave way to sleep. In one swift, downward motion, Jeanette dropped to the canvas like a plank. Jon moved close as possible to watch Emma the Ref deliver the ten count, which Jeanette slumbered through, her chin jutting out beneath a curling smile on her scarlet lips.
She does have a model's perfect ass, thought Jon, surveying Jeanette's gloved arms resting lifelessly at her sides, wrists up. He watched Emma thumb the loser's eyes, displaying only whites.
After Jeanette was carried to the recovery room, Jon walked to Denise's corner, where the victor was being toweled down by the seconds. "Good job, Denise. You put Jeanette to sleep!"
"Hey Jon!...Yeah, I fucked her up good! But Jeanette is stupid...know how I know?"
"How?"
"Those tits...a girl with 'model' tits like hers is pleading to get KOed in the ring!"
"Big tits...no brains?" Jon summed up, looking over Denise's soft-ball sized chest.
"Oh,  yeah!!"

 
 On the week she had off from her promotional gig, Jeanette went out with Jon. They had a casual dinner and a few drinks afterward.
Jeanette absorbed alcohol much better than punches.
"How long have you been boxing at the Amazonia?" Jeanette asked Jon as they sat on his living room couch, both clutching open beer bottles. Jon's was barely touched, Jeanette's half empty.
"Three years, but I boxed in college, too."
"Yeah?" Jeanette let out a drunken chuckle-laugh. "Know what?"
"No?"
"Guess!" she insisted, giddily.
"I don't know."
Jon knew this was headed somewhere, but he was uncertain that Jeanette was sure of the destination.
"I bet!"
"You bet what?"
"I bet you...could teach me a thing or two!"
This time Jeanette suppressed the impulse to laugh.
Jon glanced at his closed bedroom door, unable to recall if he made the bed that morning.
"Oh, I know I can!"
"Yes! Let's do this!"
Jeanette leaped to her feet, Jon right behind, his arms reaching out to kiss her. The brunette steadied herself and raised her bare fists between them. "Come on, I want to fight a guy!"
Jon glared back, blankly. This is an f-ing joke!, he fumed, internally.
"Yeah, sure, Jeanette..."
"All my friends call me 'Jet', so you can.."
WHAP!
Jeanette never felt Jon's sharp right to her chin. She was simply out on her feet.
Watching the girl stagger a few paces, Jon extended his arms. Jeanette's face hit Jon's shoulder.
"Good...night..Daddy..." murmured softly in Jon's ear. Jeanette sighed and was out cold. Jon took the opportunity to feel up her buttocks.
"You do have a model's ass, all right!"
He had just hefted the girl over his shoulder when an idea came to him. Jon knew the plan forming in his head was a cruel deception, but immediately discovered he didn't care.

Once he seated Jeanette, still exploring Dreamland, on his bed, Jon quickly stripped her down to her panties, tossing her clothes on the floor. Pulling back the covers, he laid her gently on the bed and replaced the covers. Removing only his shoes, Jon climbed into bed with Jeanette.

She was still sleeping the next morning. Jon quickly got undressed, pitched his clothes from the night before around the room, and pulled on a T-shirt and pajama bottoms. He then made breakfast for two.
"Here you go, honey! How you feeling this morning?"
Jeanette was just coming around as Jon handed her plate of scrambled eggs and toast, with a glass of tomato juice. He followed up with a loving peck on the cheek.
Jeanette stared at her food and then at her bare breasts.
"Christ! Did we..?"
"Well, yes, Jeanette, sweetheart!" Jon's tone exuded affection and sensitivity. "We got a little crazy with the boxing and you knocked me out!"
"I did?"
"I was gone for five minutes on the sofa. You have a hell of a right hook you should work on. Eat your breakfast!"
Jeanette chewed her scrambled eggs as she rummaged in her memory for any records of what Jon said. She found nothing. "Then what happened?"
"Well...you kind of got excited after putting out my lights..."
A moment later, Jon was beside Jeanette, happily eating his own breakfast.

It took a few months, but Jeanette eventually moved in with Jon. His friends said he never looked happier.