Kaylee and the Old Man

"Don't let him beat you like that!" Cathy told Kaylee, who sat in a folding chair in the corner of a boxing in the Amzonia Boxing Club.
Kaylee nodded, trying to catch her breath, not removing her eyes from Harlan, her opponent. Through the last three rounds, Kaylee had struggled against feeling overwhelmed by his presence. She felt it stir in her again as she awaited the fifth round bell. This emotion she didn't share with Cathy or Sonia, her other corner person.
"I know, keep moving, he'll tire out." Kaylee recited.
"He's an old man," Sonia chimed in. "Knock him the fuck out!"
Kaylee nodded again just in time for the bell's clang. She leaped from her chair.


Harlan, a tall, handsome man in his late forties threw punches at Kaylee when they were in mid ring. Then Kaylee back peddled, providing Harlan quarry to pursue.
All right!, Harlan decided, pressing Kaylee to the ropes. Time for Goldilocks to go Nighty-Night!
BAP!
POW!
SOCK!
WHACK!
Connecting four effortless punches ended the match.
The first two, punishing body shots, immobilized the blond for the follow up, a right hook that drastically dimmed the lights in Kaylee's head. Kaylee's glassy eyes scouted listlessly for Harlan's fists.
He's...gonna...knock...me out, drifted through her brain. He's...so...big...
A right upper cut lifted the girl boxer inches from the ground. Kaylee went to sleep.
While Emma the Ref administered the ten count, Kaylee slumbered tranquilly on her back, one glove rising and falling with her ample chest. from a neutral corner, Harlan observed the count confidently.
A week earlier to the day, in the same ring, he transformed Jasmine, a friend of Kaylee's into Sleeping Beauty. A few days before that, Harlan did the same to his first challenger, Paula.

Emma the Ref felt a curious satisfaction seeing the loser removed from the ring to the recovery room. She had taken a serious disliking to Kaylee since her blatant attempt to steal Emma's boyfriend, Wes. Wes evaded capture, proving again he was one of the few men at the Amazonia who could be trusted.
"Nice job!" Emma told Harlan, who was removing his gloves. "I think she'll be out for the night!"
"Thanks." said Harlan. "It was easy."
"What are you doing tomorrow night?"
"Not much, Emma. Got any plans for me?"
"Plenty."
"Like Italian?"
"Sure do!"

With her naked body pressed on Harlan's, Emma explained that their night together wouldn't be repeated. Harlan admired how Emma kept her three-way relationship with Wes and Katie going happily, but he was disappointed.
Emma felt right for Harlan. The Amazonia Boxing Club's full time referee was intelligent, easy going, in great shape, and had exactly the kind of ass that gave Harlan wood.

Since joining the Amazonia, Harlan had enjoyed many twenty something girls, the "Gym Bunnies." They found his paternal good looks impossible to resist. It struck Harlan that the Gym Bunnies were in competition to accumulate the most orgasms in one night.
The women in his age bracket (forty to fifty), who comprised the Cougar Clique, endlessly appreciated the experience Harlan brought to love making and the fact he could string two sentences together. But they wanted younger men for the same reason Harlan loved the Gym Bunnies: both groups wanted sex with older partners.
As they dressed, discussing where to go for breakfast, Harlan wondered, if the menage a trois was so tight, why did Emma fuck him all night like a crazy woman?

"You going to give Kaylee a try?" asked Emma.
The couple drank coffee while waiting for breakfast to arrive.
"Sure. If she wants to go again, I'll put her down for another nap."
"No, I meant are you going to try to fuck her?"
Harlan let out a resigned laugh. "I don't think I'll get far there. I beat her up before I knocked her cold."
"You don't know Kaylee, she's crazy as a cork screw."
"No doubt," agreed Harlan. "But most of the Amazonia's membership is crazy someway."
Emma laughed cynically. "Try it."
"That would take a serious pair on my part to even propose it?"
They were both momentarily silent as they waitress set breakfast in front of them. Emma began shaking pepper on her spinach omelette. "And I know that you've got them."

 He went with his instincts and apologized to Kaylee for roughing her up in the ring. Harlan wasn't sincere, but when Kaylee responded positively, he kept going to see what happened.
Kaylee was impressed with his strength and fighting skills.
"For a man so...mature..." she added, gently caressing the salt and pepper hair on Harlan's temples.

They fucked the next night. In the morning, Kaylee talked about a rematch.
"A lot of people think I can knock you out," Kaylee told Harlan. "Last fight, I was occupied with other things."
"So now the distraction is out of the way?"
"Pretty much!" she answered, giving him a kiss.
"Because in all honesty Kaylee, I have height and weight advantage on you. I'd probably put you out again."
"Not this time!" A bright anticipation burned in the blonde's eyes.

Harlan gave Kaylee three rounds to keep her dignity. She fought well, demonstrating what she could do. One perfectly executed shot to the blonde's chin put her to sleep in the fourth.
Standing in a neutral corner, Harlan watched Emma slowly count out Kaylee. He thought she was giving the downed fighter as much time as she could to recover and fight on. But Harlan had hammered Kaylee's sweeet spot, putting her out for five minutes at least.
The grin on Emma's face stretched as the count approached ten.
"Winer by a total knockout, Harlan!" Emma shouted, pointing Harlan's glove to the ceiling. "You made that little tramp sleep like a baby!"
"Uh...yeah!..." Harlan replied, watching the limp Kaylee carried from the ring. In his corner, Emma removed his boxing gloves.
"You were such a gentleman giving her three rounds to save face," Emma chirped. "That was so sexy!"
"Thanks, Emma."
"And then POW!! you sent her to Dreamland! I loved that part the best!" Emma's voice filled with excitement. "Are you doing anything Saturday night?"
"Gee Emma...I don't think..."
"I still love Italian!" Emma said.

Amelia and Alma

Amelia, Mark's girlfriend, was taking a beating from Alma, aged forty-nine. In his heart, Mark was aroused and elated.

He spent three rounds watching a pretty even match between the two. Now in the fourth, Alma asserted herself and set to work demolishing the much younger opponent.  Alma had Amelia pressed on the ropes, landing surgical punches. The black haired Amelia was physically spent and remained semiconscious by force of her will. If Amelia survived the next two minutes, Mark would really be impressed. She absorbed each of the recurring body shots with small, sharp grunts. Amelia felt numb from Alma's pummeling, pushing her closer to dreamland.

"Know why I'm working you over like this?" asked Alma, targeting Amelia's belly with a barrage of leather. The girl "uuff"ed softly. "Don't know? Because when I clobber a brat like you, they're useless in bed for a month!"
A right hook bounced Amelia off the ropes. The cougar steadied her victim and tilted her pert chin into the correct position. "Please...please...now..." Amelia whispered.
Alma chuckled. "Maybe I can help Mark out during your convalescence?!"
BAP!!
A super nova went off in Amelia's skull, followed by a listless sigh. Amelia was out cold, but stood a few seconds before toppling at Alma's feet. Alma stared at Mark, whose eyes were wide with apprehension and lust.
"You wanna fuck her now, lover boy?!" jeered Alma. "You love Ms. Light Weight, right?"

 

Mark discovered older women in the summer of his junior year at Blake Mitchell University. One  night in late June, Mark participated in a monthly, all-comers mixed boxing match, conducted by his mother's best friend, Veronica Mitchell. Recently divorced, Mrs. Mitchell, as Mark knew her, selected a new boyfriend from the men she defeated in the backyard ring. She was undefeated.
Recognizing the unbridled lust in Mark's eyes, a feeling that burned in the young man since Mrs. Mitchell was his babysitter, she knocked him out directly. For the month of July, Mark spent every night making his teenage fantasies come true.
From then on, he was hooked. Mark bedded down a few more neighborhood women, in the forty and fifty age range, some married, some not. After graduation, he moved to the city, got a job and an apartment, and had a fling with Donna, who sponsored his membership with the Amazonia Boxing Club.

"No, you don't want her!" Alma said, removing her gloves and reclining on a turnbuckle, spreading her arms on the top ropes.
Mark walked past his unconscious lover and embraced Alma. The pair kissed for a rapturous minute and pulled off their garments. Mark was oblivious to reality, except for the pleasure of fucking Alma, his hands feeling up her well exercised ass and thighs. The fire of orgasm suddenly burned through both of them.
He slumped against Alma's bare chest, gasping for air, repeating "Oh, God!", while Alma told Mark how he satisfied her. Staggering back a few paces, Mark took in Alma's beautiful body. When their eyes met, Alma smiled maliciously. The bare knuckle upper cut put Mark out instantly.
Alma slowly redressed and put Mark's shirt and jeans back on him. She left him a few feet from Amelia, who was still touring dreamland.

"I'm going to injure that bitch!" Amelia swore days after the match.
Mark wanted to settle the score for the cheap shot he took from Alma after such a powerful
orgasm.
Being sore from Alma's beating disinclined Amelia to sex, as the warrioress promised. Mark knew Amelia's horniness would return and consoled himself with memories of his first encounter with Amelia.
She was boxing his ex girlfriend Jasmine and losing badly. Mark stood among the spectators as Amelia weathered the punishment Jasmine was handing out, but Mark was aware of how relentless Jasmine was in the ring. The young Asian girl finally went down, unconscious, like an abandoned rag doll. The vision of Amelia so vulnerable jolted Mark into falling in love. In a few weeks, they were a couple.

Alma was pleased with herself for knocking out Mark right after their quickie. It kept him coming back for more while his girl recuperated, but discouraged him from thinking any of Alma's emotions were involved.
After I finish Ms. Babe-in-the-Woods, Alma thought, I'll clobber that two timer!
As the third round of the rematch started, Alma believed it would be the last.

Amelia had learned from experience. She kept away from the older woman, striking only when she had the best chance to do damage.
"She's strong, but she'll get tired before me," she told Mark between rounds.
When one of the openings in Alma's defense appeared, Amelia hammered at her opponent's sides multiple times before pasting her chin hard as Alma twisted in pain. She followed Alma's retreat, attacking her belly and head with lightening punches. Amelia had lost all connection to reality, intent only on putting the other fighter down.
Alma wobbled from a right to her jaw, her vision smearing out of focus. A second blow shattered reality.
"Sleep, bitch!" Amelia sneered, smacking Alma's head back and forth, finishing with an upper cut. Weakness washed through Alma's body. Amelia, inches away, hurling punches, vanished. Alma did nothing to stop her body collapsing to the canvas. Going to sleep was so pleasurable.
Emma the Ref declared Amelia winner by a total knock out. Gloves reaching for the ceiling, Amelia did a victory dance around the ring.