Roxana

Roxana was merciless in the boxing ring. She only fought mixed matches and every guy that tangled with her got carried out between the ropes, bruised and unconscious.
Will was no different.
His body shots to Roxana's carmel-brown midsection yielded nothing but a right cross that put Will into a galaxy of shinny stars. Thoroughly dazed, Will sat on his ass on the canvas, leering at Roxana's bare, muscular thighs and wanting to fuck her badly.
But the stars had so many bright colors....
Roxana saw clearly how groggy and horny Will was, so she slipped her gloved fists under his arms and lifted him up.
"William, our fight is over," she whispered in his ear. The bruised boxer barely comprehended what she said. "I hope you're a better fucker than a fighter!"
Will's dwindling attention shifted from Roxana's retracting right fist and to her blood red lips, high cheek bones and scarlet hair.
BAM!!!
Will heard an explosion. The force of Roxana's punch pitched Will across the ring, landing him under the ropes, the top of his head and arms dangling of the apron.
He wanted to slap Roxana's well toned ass and equally defined thighs and went to sleep.

They didn't carry Will out between the ropes. Emma and Adrienne, Will's seconds, moved him back to his corner. When his eyes opened, Will saw both girl's faces. Emma asked him his name.
"William," he said. Will was dizzy and fascinated with the girl's chests, especially Adrienne's.
"What time is it?" Emma asked.
"Story time...?" he answered.
"No, William!"
William shifted to Adrienne.
"Why Adrienne...what big breasts you have!"
Adrienne examined her full chest and she and Emma laughed. They pulled Will's arms over their shoulders and got him to his feet.
The ref was raising Roxana's right fist in a declaration of victory. She flashed her bedroom eyes at Will when he was carried past.

Will found Roxana a few days after their fight working a speed bag at the gym. He was two days recovering from the knockout, nursed attentively by Adrienne. The younger girl's attention was appealing, Will wanted sex with Roxana badly.
Roxana could see Will looking her body over as they talked, nodding slyly when he asked her out to dinner.
"You should be just right," Roxana said, grabbing Will's arm and maneuvering him into an empty dressing room. Will glanced at the large rubdown table.
"Want to get going already?" he asked.
"Can't wait sugar!"
POW!!
WAP!!
SOCK!!
Only two punches were required to knock Will out on his feet. As he swayed back and forth, eyes shut, lips curled in dreamy pleasure, Roxana's third blow was a shot in the eye. She liked giving men black eyes.
Roxana carried the unconscious Will in her arms the length of the gym, where everyone watched. Near the exit, Emma asked had happened.
"I asked Will out on our first date," Roxana approvingly took in the devastaed male she held. "And he accepted."

Roxana fucked Will so hard he fell in love with her. When he woke the next morning in his own bed, he knew he was meant to be with her forever.
"Oh...I see.. you've fallen for me, right Will?" Roxana said when Will got her alone at the gym.
"Yes...I can't stop thinking about you!" Will's eyes were on fire. Roxana knew what she had to do.
"Will, do you know what I do to guys who fall for me?" Roxana asked seductively, extending her bare right arm.
"What?" he answered happily staring at her bicep muscle.
"Kiss it Will!" Roxana ordered, flexing her bicep. Will pressed his lips to her muscle, loving the firm smoothness of her skin.
"Will?"
"Yes!?" he said, looking up. A clinched fist came at him. The explosion hurled Will across the room and into the wall. Will began dreaming of his night with Roxana as he slumped to the floor.

"Hey Will wake up!"
The voice was familiar, sweet and light, so he opened his eyes. Adrienne was looking down at him. "Looks like someone took another ko!"
"Yeah..Roxana..clobbered me.."
"I know...she told me.." Adrienne slowly helped Will to his feet. Giving him a loving kiss, she said: "Will, you need a new playmate!"

A Day at the Beach

Simon walked down to the beach with a pack of cigarettes and a copy of The Long Goodbye, a novel he'd been meaning to finish for weeks. Three girls walked up to him slowly, giving Simon ample time to take in their bikini clad bodies. The girl in the middle wore a green bikini and had curly brown hair and seemed to stare directly at Simon. The girl on the right seemed mean looking, eyeing Simon for a false move, which would lead to a devastating counter move by the female. To the left, a few paces ahead of the others was the oldest of the trio, grinning at Simon like a panther.
"Hola," said the pantheress, with perfect politeness.
Simon was already on his feet, brushing sand from his jeans. Simon always stood for a woman, even if she appeared younger than his 30 years.
The group moved closer to Simon, forming a semicircle around him.
"I'm Donna," the girl continued.
"I'm Simon," Simon countered, wondering why the girls were crowding him, but not overly concerned.
Donna took another step toward Simon. "You like girls?"
Jesus!, Simon thought. This is too good to be happening!"Well..yeah!..sure!"
"You look like one of those guys who likes getting beaten by a woman. Right?"
Lust turned to perplexity on Simon's face.
The mean girl slipped behind Simon. "He does, don't you Popi?" she said. "I'm Carly."
Donna glanced questioningly at the girl in the green bikini. The curly haired girl gave Donna a smile and a quick nod.
"Good night, Simon!" Donna said, launching a right hook to the man's jaw. Simon sprawled into Carly's arms, which instantly pushed forward, directly into Donna's fist.
A storm of punches fell on Simon from all directions. Agony and confusion rattled Simon. His few coherent thoughts among the blows were variants on "What the hell is happening?!"
Carly's left collided with Simon's chin.
Simon's vision dimmed and he had trouble comprehending what the girls were saying to each other. It was Spanish and a woman speaking Spanish turned Simon on. He swayed back and forth, his feet slipping in and out of the sand.
WHAP!!
Donna's fist hammered his chin and Simon drifted deeper into a daze, his eyes glassy and half open.
"Okay Rosie, finish him! You chose him, you finish him!"
Simon only stared mindlessly at the girl identified as Rosie as she tentatively moved at him. Her fist went back carefully, aiming precisely, leaving time for Simon to watch the fist come his way.
POW!!
Simon landed on the sand with a soft "THUD," making Rosie smile. She never told Donna or Carly that her favorite thing, even more than sex, was finishing off a male.
Rapidly, Donna and Carly lifted the knocked out Simon and carried him, like a defeated pugilist, to their nearby minivan. They deposited Simon on the couch-like back seat, while Rosie climbed in behind them, siting in a chair that gave her a clear view of the victim.

The engine humming was the first thing Simon heard when he came around. Then the cool, afternoon breeze buffeted him gently from the mini van's open windows.
"Huh...wha...the hell...?" he asked thickly. His opening eyes saw Rosie's tender expression, the wind throwing her hair in different directions.
Still staring lovingly at Simon, Rosie said: "Hey, he's awake!"
"Well, you know what to do!" Carly's voice counseled.
"Oh, I can't..."
"Can't do what?" Simon asked blankly.
"You've proven you can, Rosie."
Simon gawked in confusion as a lovely brown fist sailed at his face.
BAP!!
He fell back, sound asleep, in the same position the girls had dumped him on the couch. Simon dreamt of being a teenager at the shore and nailing Annie Sakura.
"The gym work is paying off, Rosie!" Donna commented.

Simon woke the second time on a soft bed. Windows in the paneled room were open, letting in the summer sea air. Donna was standing over him.
"Hello Simon," she laughed. "How are you feeling? A little worn out?"
Simon, with an immense effort, sat up.
"I feel like shit! What the fuck is going on?"
He would have used more profanity, but his head was still swimming.
"We brought you here to be a trial boyfriend for my cousin Rosie, I think she likes you."
"Rosie?"
"Yes, my cousin has always had a problem asserting herself romantically with men."
"You're kidding?"
"No. All three of us are in boxing training and Rosie's the best of us. She could put you out in the ring, but get a date with a guy is like pulling her teeth! So we helped her out, scouted out nice guys like you."
"And kidnapping them!?" Simon asked.
Donna laughed giddily. "That's the fun part for me and Carly, executing the snatch!" She gave Simon a gentle, flirty punch on the shoulder. "Come on in, Rosie!"
Rosie walked in, dressed in lose gray shorts and a white T-shirt.
"Hi Simon, how do you feel?"
Rosie's voice sounded tentative. Simon looked at her, about to be angry and then felt an emotional change.
"I'm still hurting, but I'll be alright. You know how to punch!"
Rosie laughed and took Simon's hand. For an instant, she was motionless, waiting for Simon to move. Simon saw pained uncertainty in her eyes and heard Donna shut the door as she left. Tugging Rosie by her fingers, he lead her to the bed.

Simon and Rosie spent the night together. In between orgasms, Rosie explained that she made poor choices with men-men who made promises that they broke, a few who drank and one that hit her outside the boxing ring.
"So Donna and Carly watched a bunch of guys and you were one we chose!"

Donna made breakfast for Simon. He had left Rosie sleeping contentedly in her bed.
"Rosie still asleep?" Donna asked.
"Yep!"
"A good sign, she's relaxed around you," Donna suggested. "I think you're in the top three."
"Top three?"
"Yes, you're one of three guys who completely satisfied Rosie. I think she likes you, you like her?"
"Yes!" Simon heard himself say.
"Great! If Rosie chooses you, and I think she will, we'll come get you."
"Like you did before?" Simon was suddenly annoyed.
"You bet!"
POW!!
Donna's right cross put Simon out instantly. He slumped in the chair, lifeless. Donna kissed him on the cheek.

Simon woke on his own bed. On his chest was a Valentine's card, signed by Rosie, the lipstick imprint of her lips pressed below her signature.

Patrice

I don't know how long I was out cold. Emma, the ref, said Patrice had put me to sleep for five minutes. Waking up was like surfacing from being under water; all the blackness simply washed away. I was seated in my corner of the ring, Emma's reviving hands massaging blood back to my brain. Katie, Emma's friend, was asking me questions that took minutes for me to answer because I was only semi-conscious. The sensation was like floating on your back in a pool, your ears partially submerged, so that what you heard was murky.
I was also watching Patrice strutting around the wrestling ring, her hands clinched to the ceiling in victory. I could care less that I had been humiliated in front of nearly every female member of the Amazonia Boxing and Wrestling Club, most of whom were cheering my defeat. I was hooked on Patrice, the tall, athletic, full chested member of the women's team. A gorgeous black woman, she had legs that rose to a crest at her toned ass and supple hips. But it was her muscular arms she used to sleeper me, wrapped securely around my neck like iron bars. Our wrestling match lasted less than a round.
"He's still sleeping Emma," Patrice said, crouching down in front of me, smiling. Her amber eyes glittered and I savored a long glimpse of her large, flawless breasts. "You still dreaming, Will?"
I wanted to fuck her right there, looking at the tits that had been my pillows.
"No," I said vaguely, reality beginning to focus. Katie and Emma helped me up and slowly out of the ring. Patrice followed, walking in front of me, her pretty face aglow with satisfaction.
"Hey Will, before you went out..know what I asked you?" Patrice asked me.
"What?" I responded, finally taking how completely I had been conquered.
"I asked you who your momma was as you drifted away, you said 'You're my momma!'"
Patrice repeated the last three words in perfect imitation of my sleepy voice. The moment, just before I went under in Patrice's arms, resurfaced in my memory. I was tucked close to her chest, those lovely dark arms pulling tight on my throat. Patrice's breathy voice asking me that question and my answer, completely direct, ran from lips like honey and blackness poured over me.
As the girls sat me down on a recovery room bed, I realized I enjoyed the release of being knocked out by Patrice.

"I hope you're not mad about the ko on Wednesday?"
Patrice's apology sounded more like flirting.
"If bigger guys than me got clobbered, I should have expected it," I answered.
Patrice had had seven mixed ko wrestling matches in the last two months. All her opponents were carried out of the ring.
Running her hand on my shoulder, Patrice wondered if she made me look bad in the ring.
"Only in front of most of the women in the club, a few of whom I've slept with."
"Those were the ones cheering!" Patrice suggested. She pulled her arm away slightly when I stared at her. "Let me buy you a drink," asked Patrice. "To make it up to you..."

By the end of our fourth beer, Patrice and I were making out in the parking lot of the bar. I hadn't done that since college, but I got the same thrill putting my hands down her pants, caressing her firm ass.
By ten we were back at my townhouse and making love in my bedroom. I don't know when in the night I fell for Patrice. We had orgasm after orgasm, screaming as each one climaxed. When I woke from exhausted but pleasant sleep, Patrice was dressing.
"Don't leave now!" I begged, laughing.
"Why not?"
"I'll make breakfast. It's Saturday morning, we don't have to work."
Patrice looked at me coyly. "You want more, Will?"
"Of course!"
"I like you Will and I like you even more this morning. You're a nice guy, but..." Patrice's expression went from apologetic to comprehension. "If you can knock me out like I did to you, Will, I think we can have something. Okay?"
We embraced in a long kiss near my bed. "Okay?"
Yeah, fine with me, I told myself.
Patrice stopped my right in mid air, our forearms crossing against each other. I saw her free arm swing up and then I was flat on the bed, looking at Patrice through a hazy field of stars.
"Will, I expected more brains from you," Patrice said with good humored disappointment. "'Like I beat you' I said..in the ring Will!"
Lights began to fade. Patrice was vanishing. "See you there, Will!" was all I heard before I blacked out.

Like any woman on a date, Patrice made me stand around five minutes, waiting for our bout to start. When i challenged her to another ko wrestling match, Patrice's body language told me she was hungry for another victory, even as she verbally debated if I was worth taking on again. She agreed with one stipulation: we grapple alone in one of the club's private rings.
"After all, honey stick, when you wake up, you'll be by yourself! I'll be gone!" Patrice hummed in my ear.
Patrice finally strutted into the ring, wearing the same silver one piece bathing suit she wore at our first meeting. For a few seconds we moved in a closing circle, our arms grasping at each other. I seized Patrice's wrist and spun her toward me, her entire body bending around my extended fist.
Seeing Patrice's face convulse with agony, I swung her outward, bouncing her off the ropes. An elbow welcomed the oncoming chin, knocking the mocha beauty groggy on her feet. Leaping behind Patrice, I snaked my arms around the dazed girl's throat.
"Rock-a-bye-baby..." I started singing in her ear. Patrice discovered what I was about to do and tore at my encircled arms.
Elbows hammered my torso, but I held onto Patrice, telling her she was a good Amazon for resisting me, but the lights had to go out.
"You...bast...ard!..." The anger in her voice was arousing.
Patrice went on fighting as I constricted my hold. A stream of short grunts flowed as Patrice's wide eyes fought to stay focused. I could feel her body relax, the tension of her struggle against my sleeper draining from her limbs.
The grunts became softer. Patrice's grasp on my arms became tenuous, fingers sliding on and off my biceps. Her eyes fluttered, filling with glassy dreaminess.
Patric murmured, "No..I..."
"Yes, Patrice!" I whispered endearingly in her ear. I got a rush watching the labored writhing of her long, silky legs. I could hear Patrice's respiration slow. Words barely formed on her lips, before evaporating on her breath.
"Gon...na...nock...me...awt..." Patrice sounded like a sleepy young girl.
"Going to knock you out cold!" I told her. "Sleep tight, Patrice."
A delicate "ooohhhh" seeped from Patrice's inert lips and she slumped against me, hands resting on her thighs.
Releasing my grip, I cradled the sleeping girl in my arms, counting to ten aloud. Patrice was lovely, knocked out and dreaming. After saying "Ten" in her ear, I kissed Patrice on the cheek.
Carefully, I eased Patrice to the canvas, resting her head on a folded up towel. I was going to leave her on the canvas to wake up alone, like she said I would, but I found I liked Patrice.
"Come on, Patrice, rise and shine!" I said rubbing her firm thighs and then gently slapping her face. Patrice's eyes opened, brimming with confused fascination.

Miki at the Fights

“The champ is a loser!!” Miki was screaming. “I could beat him with both my eyes closed!!”
Miki was watching the climatic sixth round of the International Inter Gender Boxing Championship with her friends Abby and Cathy at the Oring Arena, along with thousands of fight fans. The trio of coeds and amateur fighters had come to see the champ Harry “The Sandman” Huggins lose his crown to the challenger Anita “Bruiser” Rivera.
The opposite was happening.
To the girl’s immense frustration, The Sandman had Rivera on the ropes, working her midsection, alternating with headshots to keep the sexy boxedora in a groggy daze. With no warning, The Sandman let up on the punishment and stepped back. Silence moved through the spectators. Rivera walked forward a few paces, uncertain as to where she was.
The Sandman’s right upper cut knocked Rivera stiff. She stood flat footed, lower jaw slack, eyes wide and glassy, arms motionless and then she loudly smacked the canvas like a felled tree.
Completely unconscious, Rivera slumbered through the 10 count and the decoration of The Sandman’s triumph.
Mike was outraged to watch the deeply sleeping Rivera loaded on a gurney and rolled out of the ring by the EMTs.
“The Sandman sucks!!” Miki yelled in chorus with Abby and Cathy. Miki went on castigating the Champ, calling him worthless as a fighter and a bully. “I could ko him in one round!” she yelled and went on yelling for a minute before realizing everyone around her was silent.
Looking fearfully over her shoulder, Miki saw The Sandman standing in front of her. The handsome, broad chested boxer, still in trunks and boxing gloves, stepped right up to Miki’s face.
“Well, I’ll give you your chance, sweets!” The Sandman said. Then Miki saw his right fist go back behind his head and…
BAM!!!
Pretty lights exploded everywhere and Miki had the sensation of flying down a long tunnel of darkness.

“Wha…happ…ed…?” Miki sighed as she woke.
“You okay, Miki?” Abby asked. Miki looked in confusion around the ring and then at her two friends. “The Sandman took you up on the offer to fight him.”
“We carried you down here,” Cathy added. Both girls were tying up Miki’s boxing gloves.
Looking across the ring at The Sandman, Miki shook her brain free from the fog and sat up. Fine, she told herself. I’ll fight this asshole and put him in his place!
“Okay jerk, I’m going to put you down!” Miki said to The Sandman. Miki was trying to sound brave, but she felt overcome and aroused by The Sandman’s masculine presence.
“What you got sweetie?” The Sandman snarled. Miki immediately swatted him with a left-right combination to his face. The Sandman barely flinched. “My turn.”
His punch lifted Miki off her feet and she watched, in brief amazement, as she propelled across the ring and slammed into a turnbuckle.
Smiling goofily, Miki took steps and hit the canvas.
“Aaaahhhh!!” she groaned as she got back up even before the count started. She came at The Sandman again at a run, fists raised.
BAM!!!
The same punch, repeatedly more forcefully, put Miki back in the turnbuckle. Darkness swarmed on the girl boxer and she was out when her ass cheeks touched the canvas.
The count reached “seven” before the buzzer screamed. Abby and Cathy ran to their friend and got her to her feet. Draping her limps arms over their shoulders, they carried Miki back to her corner.
“Come on, Miki!!” Cathy said, slapping Miki’s cheeks, while Abby massaged her neck. “You can’t let this jerk defeat you.”
Miki’s head moved side to side sluggishly and she exhaled noisily. “Is it Easter already? Did the Bunny come? Is Ron here?” Miki mumbled, giddily.
“The Sandman koed you again, Miki,” Abby said. “You have to do better!”
“He did?” Miki asked in wonderment. “The Sandman’s very handsome….”
“Wake up, Miki! This guy is kicking your ass, like all the other women he’s fought!” Abby exclaimed.
Miki suddenly focused and sprang out for the second round.
For a minute, the pair traded wild punches. The Sandman admired the young girl’s bravery and lovely body even as he figured another way to knock her out.
The Sandman grabbed Miki’s forehead with his left glove, stopping her in her tracks. The Sandman held Miki in place at arm’s length while she threw furious punches in the air.
“Hey!! This isn’t fair...I can’t get a ….”
WHAP!!!
The Sandman’s left glove slammed down directly on Miki’s head.
Her eyes widened and she smiled joyfully at the thought of her boyfriend Ron. Neon pinwheels spun in Miki’s vision and she sank downward, knees buckling.
A harsh orgasm ripped through Miki’s being, soaking the front of her panties. Miki was very tired and happy to just stand before The Sandman, savoring the afterglow of her orgasm. A left hook bashed her jaw and Miki groaned as she fell into The Sandman’s arms.
Like a reed in the wind, Miki swayed gently once she was seated. She wondered where The Sandman had gone to. She looked all around until she glimpsed up at a boxing glove slam into her face.
When the lights were on again, Miki was on her back. “FIVE!” the ref called out. Where did ONE through FOUR go? Miki asked herself as she got to her feet.
WAP! The Sandman slugged her on the chin.
POW! Another detonation in Miki’s skull. She staggered, enjoying the tilting of the ring.
WHAP!
The left hook spun Miki around and her eyes crossed drastically. Have to get out o…” Miki told herself just before:

WHAM!!
BAM!!
A combination put Miki in a solid daze. The crowd cheering on her beating went on and off in long spurts, but the love birds trilling in her head were continuous. And sweet. Miki was all over the ring trying to find them.
Abby and Cathy were guiding Miki back to the corner. Miki thought she was a panther stalking the jungle.
“Miki! Stop growling!!”
Cathy’s voice pulled her friend back to reality.
“I …was growling…?”
“The Sandman is going to destroy you if you don’t pay attention!”
Half a minute later, the third round started. Miki was half way across the ring when The Sandman held out a gigantic sling shot.
“Hold this Miki?” he asked.
Not thinking, Miki took hold of the sling shot’s handle and held it steady as The Sandman stretched the rubber band back to his corner. With great effort, The Sandman slipped a gigantic rock into the sling and let go.
Miki only saw the rock hurtling at her.
KABAM!!
Miki was out cold instantly, but she was standing in a long tunnel of shimmering lights. She liked the lights and smiled and hit the canvas.
The aurora borealis continued to dance in Miki’s head until Miki saw Abby and Cathy standing over her.
“Did Ron propose?” asked Miki. Abby and Cathy looked at each, perplexed.
“No Miki! You got knocked out again! And you would have been counted out if the judges hadn’t stopped the match.” Abby explained “They called The Sandman’s action a foul. They want to know if you can continue the fight.”
“Of course I do!”
Miki was facing The Sandman in the ring a minute later.
“That was a dirty trick, Sandman!”
“I’m full of them. You looked so cute on you’re back, where you belong!”
“Oh, yeah!?” Miki said, defiantly fixing her hands on her hips.
“Yeah.”
POW!!!
The Sandman delivered his signature knock out punch: The Good Night Kiss, the same from the floor upper cut that finished off Anita Rivera.
Miki lifted a foot off the canvas. Sleep was instantaneous and very deep. Stars filled the arena. Miki landed with a THUD, spread eagle and motionless.
A sleepy smile spread across Miki’s face as she was counted out.
Miki contentedly dreamed of fireworks and penises until she woke the next morning in the hospital ICU. All night “Naughty Girls Need Love, Too!” by Samantha Fox played in her head and it was Christmas Morning, New Years Eve and Valentine’s Day for the lovely girl boxer.

Maria

Right here I admit it: I love muscle girls. That's why I was on line to fight Maria "The Bruiser" Rivera at my gym in an all comers match. The bouts were promotional, part of the build up to Rivera's bid for the Worldwide Inter Gender Boxing Championship Title. But the matches were real, demonstrated clearly to me as I watched the six guys ahead of me get carried out, totally unconscious.
I only boxed women and two of the muscle chicks I decked in the ring became my long term girlfriends. So I figured I had a chance, a slim chance, of getting somewhere with Maria Rivera.
The piercing screech of the buzzer called me into the ring as two hot Asian women in bikinis carried my slumbering predecessor out between the ropes. I watched Maria dance in her corner, mobile but determined, throwing fast punches in the air.
"What's your name?" Maria asked when the ref brought us together. There was a delighted anticipation in her voice.
"Gus."
"Every Gus I ever met was an idiot!"
"Every Maria I ever met, I knocked out!"
That remark raised a smile from Rivera. "What have you got for me, hammer dick?"
Maria's answer got a smile from me. " A left that's going turn out your lights!"
Maria nodded happily and we touched gloves. "All right, let's get to it, big man!"
She came at me pretty fast, so I danced sideways. Fists up, Maria pursued me, her liquid brown eyes fixed on me. Some muscle girls aren't fast on their feet, more strength than coordination. Maria was pretty quick. I tagged her a few times, shots to the head and torso. Maria fired a straight left at me, which I ducked and quickly pounded a looping right to her lower jaw.
The force put Maria into the ropes, her face a welter of pained and confused reactions. Her legs seemed to pop outward and, ass first, Maria slumped downward off of each rope. eyes closed, lips slack, Maria hit the canvas, arms flying, fists bouncing off her bare thighs.
"ONE!! TWO!!" the cute blonde ref began the count. The spectators fell silent.
"THREE!!" Maria's head began to loll and jerk sideways. A long moan seeped from her mouth and Maria's eyes blinked open.
"FOUR!!!"
Maria scanned the ring, like she was looking casually for a misplaced item.
"FIVE!"
I could see Maria instantly focus and latch her gloves clumsily to the ropes, hoisting herself up.
At "EIGHT!" the ref checked to erect and very angry Maria Rivera. The boxedora shook her head quickly at his questions. I felt excited to restart the fight when I saw the rage in Maria's eyes.
"Took a little nap?" I asked when we resumed.
"Not like the one you're going to take!" growled Maria.
Punches fell all over me and I retreated. Maria closed in. "Bastard!" she gasped with pleasure.
BAM!!
The right hammered my chin perfectly. I saw Maria's sneering lips, the ceiling and then I was slumped against the ropes. Blackness swallowed me and spat me out continually. I watched Maria's powerful thighs as the ref leaned toward my ear. "Sweet dreams fat dick! Maria's pissed!" she said breathily, the last voice I heard for a long while. The ref's tits looked familiar, I thought, did I nail her awhile ago?
In one motion, Maria pushed the ref away and brought her right around.
WHAM!!
I was instantly gone.
The digital footage of the knockout I saw later showed me fall over from Maria's finisher and roll over on my back. I was prone, like a rag doll, an enormous bulge in the front of my shorts. I had an idiotic smile on my face. I recall dreaming of a three-way with me, Maria and Halle Berry.
The bikini clad Asian girl lifted me off the canvass the ref raised Maria's fist in the air. I wobbled a few paces and slipped down. Giggling, the black haired beauties straightened me up, slipping my arms over their shoulders.
The women in the audience were screaming "KNOCKED OUT!" triumphantly.

I woke on a bed in one of the dressing rooms. Maria was standing over me, smiling. "There you go!" she whispered. "Told you you'd take a nap."
My entire body, especially my face, ached. "How long was I out?"
"Awhile," Maria chirped, sitting on the bed next to me. "I love guys I knock out!"
Maria slipped her hand under the waist band of my shorts and tenderly fingered my penis. We kissed. I realized we were alone in the room and Maria was taking down my shorts.

Miki The Climax

Miki's body was soaked with pleasure. She danced from Ron's bed to Crane's and back again, often in one day. School work went undone and her performance in the ring declined drastically. A match between Miki and a new comer to the team, Akiesha, ended early after a phantom left-right combination collided with Miki's pert chin. Lighting flashed and Miki was face down on the canvas, out cold, a dreamy smile on her lips.
"Miki, what is Ron doing to you?" Abby asked Miki when she recovered from the knock out in one of the dressing rooms. Mildly light headed, Miki sat up on a small bed.
"What a boy usually does to a girl! A lot!" Miki answered. " And...well...I'm seeing another guy...also..."
"Who?" Abby suddenly raised her voice.
"Mike Crane..."
"Mike Crane, the millionaire? Who decked me in the ring?!"
"Yes, he's so handsome and a great fuck!"
"Does Ron know?"
"No.."
Abby fell silent, her brow rippled in thought. "Keep fucking him."
"Who?" Miki asked.
"Both if you want, but definitely Crane! The University is cutting the sports budget and the boxing program is slated for the chopping block."
"And Crane will endow our team?"
"If you keep him happy," Abby said. "If not, he might give the grant to the men's team and we're done."

Miki met Crane at her apartment that afternoon. They fucked for two hours and then uncorked the red wine Crane had brought with him.
"I have to tell you something, Miki, and its not good," Crane stated. Miki sipped her wine cautiously and looked at Crane.
"I'm afraid our time together is over."
Mike felt a shock ripple through her. "Why? What's wrong?"
"My wife."
"You have a wife?!" Miki blurted.
"My second, in fact," Crane answered. "She's been in Europe for the last four months and now she's coming home."
Miki bolted to her feet, anger fueling her motion. "So a man like you suddenly cares about cheating on his wife now that she's in the vicinity.
Crane smiled and poured Miki more wine. Impulsively, Miki took two swallows.
"I don't care about keeping a mistress, but my wife and her family lawyers do. So in the interest of my considerable fortune, our affair is over."
Miki swayed, the flooring slipping from under her without warning.
"But I ...thought.. we were..halfing...fun..."
Crane gently slipped the empty wine glass from Miki's motionless hand. He looked into her glassy eyes as they rapidly went in and out of focus. Crane felt a rush of pleasure.
"We were," Crane admitted, taking the girl in his strong arms. Miki looked at him happily, a drunken pleasure spreading inside her. "If I could, I'd continue, but I can't, sweetie."
Crane and Miki kissed and then she was very heavy. Miki fell against Crane's broad chest and giggled.
"What's..in..in my drink...?"
"A sedative, a little ko juice," explained Crane, standing his former mistress upright.
"Why?" Miki laugh was foggy.
"It's a parting gift," Crane said, his voice sounding like he was a billion fathoms beneath the sea. "You enjoy being over powered by a man, don't deny it."
Miki's eyes were slits, but the Crane she saw was so strong, even through the white blur crowding around him. Miki stumbled forward, grasping hold of Crane. Her grasp slipped and she dropped into contented sleep.
Crane carried the unconscious girl into her bedroom and placed her on the futon. Miki stirred momentarily. Crane kissed her. He regretted losing such a horny mistress.

Ron sat across the boxing ring from Miki. Ignoring the chattered advice from the men's team coach, he looked at Miki who stared back at him.
Two weeks previous, Ron had received a hand written note from Mike Crane, briefly relating the details of Crane's now terminated sexual relationship with Miki. Ron pitched the half shredded letter in Miki's face and asked her for an explanation.
"I didn't love him Ron...I just loved..."
"The way he fucked?"
Miki stammered and told Ron he was right. "You're my only love, Ron...But I..need other men..."
While Miki appeared confused about her emotions, Ron was completely clear about his own. Miki saw Ron's clinched fist go back, his full weight coiled behind his closed hand. Miki closed her eyes patiently.
I mid thrust, Ron froze and dropped his arm. "I won't give you the pleasure," Ron grunted and walked out.
Ron thought fondly of Miki's small, firm body in his hands and wondered it could have betrayed him.
A week ago Crane announced he could not decide whether to endow the women's or men's boxing teams, so the two groups could fight it out to see who gets teh endowment. Miki and Ron would represent their teams in the bout, no one else, Crane stipulated.
"You're going to knock Miki out cold," said a new, cold voice that pushed the others and aggravated Ron exactly when he didn't need it.
"Mr. Crane, fuck off!"
Crane laughed in mild shock at Ron's request.
"Yes, you are angry, so I'll be direct, Ron. Miki takes a nap on that canvas or the men's team does not see a dime!"
"Go to hell."
"I mean unconscious, not just knocked down for ten," Crane went on. "We both know Miki likes being beaten senseless."
Ron shifted away from Crane.
"No one likes poacher, I have to live with that every day of my life. Take mercy on me, Ron?" Crane slapped Ron on the back encouragingly. "My accounting firm is on speed dial."
Ron grunted harshly as Crane walked away.

At the buzzer for round one, Miki surged from the corner, eyes fixed on Ron over defensively raised blue gloves. Her opponent strode out, arms at his side. Ron was pushing Crane's words out of his mind, looking Miki over for signals of fear. The faintest sign and he would have walked away from the fight, uninterested in the fallout. But the force of Miki's first connected punch to his chest and the set of her blood red lips told Ron she had no concerns.
"You're wearing your hair just the way I love it!" Ron told Miki when they were close and trading blows.
"I hoped it would distract you," Miki said over the cheers from the audience, demanding a knockout. "Make you horny!"
And it did. As Ron slugged Miki twice with a gut shot combination, he remembered kissing Miki's bare belly after love making in his bed.
Miki popped Ron hard on the point of his chin. He returned a second left-right, which Miki smiled at even as she flinched. A right hammered Ron near the kidneys, followed by a left hook that put him on the canvas.
Conscious, but in agony, Ron fumbled his first two attempts at standing and then was upright at the third. The fading ache in his side drove Ron at Miki, slugging her twice in the face. The girl boxer blocked the next punch and called Ron a name in Mandarin. Knowing he'd been insulted, Ron fired a shot at Miki's midsection, landing hard on her belly. Miki twisted sideways and Miki threw a right at her jaw. The punch twisted Miki in the opposite direction and Ron slugged her in the midsection with both fists.
Miki arched forward, her mouth expelling an agonized moan. Ron's upper cut plowed Miki's chin, flipping her backwards and shutting off the lights in her skull.
For a minute, Miki lay motionless against the lower ropes of the ring. A limp arm draped across her lap. Faint cheering filled her ears. Miki's eyes opened slowly to a purple blur, that cleared slightly revealing Ron pacing nearby and the ref counting aloud.
"FIVE!"
Miki felt relaxed and serene, ready sink back to sleep. When Miki moved her legs to sit up, she felt a cool, dampness in the front of her panties. She laughed at the source of her pleasure and rolled over, landing on her knees.
"SIX"
Hand over hand, Miki clasped the ropes like a ladder and pulled herself up. Turning she slowly faced Ron and the ref who called out "SEVEN!"
The ref checked her over and asked if Miki if she wanted to go on. Miki nodded.
"When I knock you down, stay down! Miki, stay on your ass!" Ron shouted as they restarted the match.
"Fuck you, Ron!" Miki was still blinking her vision clear.
Ron was still until Miki raised her gloves. When she moved, Ron followed her, anger filling his being: anger at Crane for fucking his girl and then manipulating the fight, anger at Miki for not staying down when he put her there and anger at himself for still wanting Miki.
Ron shoved away Miki's arms and socked her hard in the face. Reality went sideways for the girl and when it stopped, Miki spotted Ron's follow up punch.
Silence.
The ring jerked for Miki again and she felt a limpness move through her. Her vision was clear enough to see Ron's next punches impact her stomach. Miki gaged in agony, air whooshing from her body. The ring became dark.
Ron's right tagged Miki low on the jaw. Fireworks detonated in her head, with colorful pinwheels right behind. There was no pain from the next blows, just a humming vibration all over her body. Miki tried to find their source, but the vibrations were slipping away from her.
Miki was nearly off her feet, eyes opening and closing. She wanted Ron and wanted him more with each punch.
"I love you, Miki, I really do!" He briefly kissed her.
WAP!
Leather smacking Miki's head resounded through the gym.
Miki felt for the canvas with her feet. The lovely stars she saw smeared into a solid white wall and Miki's body folded like a lifeless rag doll. On her back, Miki smiled and went to sleep. Stars still glimmered in her head and she dreamt of Ron, pleasure pulsing through her being.
Waiting for the count to finish, Ron rested on the ropes and looked at Miki unconscious on the canvas. Miki was eased on to a gurney as the ref raised Ron's arm in victory. Looking across the bleachers of screaming students, he saw Crane speaking into his cell phone. At least the creep kept his word, Ron thought.
Ron pulled off his boxing gloves and trailed behind the gurney carrying the knocked out Miki.
The gym doctor took five minutes to revive Miki. When she saw Ron standing over her, looking relieved, she called him "lover."

Katsumi

Katsumi knocked men out. Putting males in a sleeper hold after sex came naturally to the young lady. Experience told her which sex partner wanted to be rendered unconscious. Katsumi could read in their eyes and by the way they looked at her breasts the desire to succumb to female power. The feel of a male sagging against her chest as he eased into sleep gave Katsumi a powerful orgasm. When her victims awoke from a blissful nap, they were sapped with dizzy pleasure and often needed help dressing. A few men wanted more sex and Katsumi would spend the morning with them. She would take these men as full time lovers, especially if they made her laugh.
Katsumi appreciated these bed partners, who were always affectionate and horny, but she never fell for them. In 25 years, Katsumi never tasted true love.

Katsumi's cousin, Tammy Hu, was a professional crime fighter known publicly as Jade Dragon. Tammy was one third of The Avenging Trio. Occasionally, Katsumi helped her cousin apprehend criminals. Super villains who were otherwise ruthless and cruel had a weakness for Katsumi, with her silky black hair, long smooth legs and lovely chest. Katsumi easily lured bad guys into intimate vulnerability and then knocked them out.

Tammy asked her cousin to capture Roger Crichton. She knew Katsumi was perfect for the job. Crichton, an arms and technology supplier to many criminal organizations, was a womanizer, with an inclination to Asian females. The information a captured Crichton could provide would bring down many of the bad guys The Avenging Trio sought to defeat.
Tammy arranged for Katsumi to attend the same fund raiser ball as Crichton would. In his presence, Katsumi's head spun. Crichton's personality consumed everyone around him and Katsumi plunged into love at first sight.
Crichton took an immediate interest in Katsumi and sat next to her at dinner. An hour later, they were in Crichton's penthouse apartment fucking passionately. For the first time, a man had conquered Katsumi. Exhausted, Katsumi was barely able to put her new lover out with a sleeper. When The Avenging Trio arrived to arrest Crichton, Katsumi was dreamily caressing his face and fondling his penis.

Katsumi spent the next day, as Crichton's interrogation began, in a fevered daze. The sensations of longing and fear had never afflicted the girl, so she controlled them poorly. After the third call to find out how Crichton was, Tammy told her cousin to stop phoning. Katsumi had always been an intense child, Tammy recalled. When this case is over, she vowed, I'm finding Katsumi a husband.
By the fourth day, Crichton's interrogation yielded enough information to begin arrests. For safe keeping, Crichton was moved to Katsumi's apartment. In a few days, he would be moved to protective custody in an unnamed location. Katsumi could not lose her love now.
After another night together, Crichton admitted he was attached to Katsumi. Together they plotted an escape.
Crichton made a CD recording of all the information he could provide the police. Then Katsumi sat on the edge of her couch. Crichton knelt beside and kissed her on the throat passionately.
"I love you, Katsumi," he whispered. "I really do!" He pressed his lips behind Katsumi's right ear and a moment later landed the sap on exactly the same spot.

Lighting cracked in her skull. Katsumi was a young girl again. Summer was everywhere and her father had just put her on ride at the carnival that lifted and swung her in the air. Sun and wind blew all over and Katsumi smiled joyously at her parents below.
Katsumi landed face first in the big pillow Crichton had placed there, eyes shut, mouth slack.
Tammy and the other two Avengers were standing over Katsumi. Through the milky haze, Tammy was holding up three fingers. Katsumi took her time saying "three." Blackness intruded a second time.
Katsumi lay in the hospital for a week recovering from her concussion. The doctor said the injury was mild, but he didn't want to take any chances. Katsumi explained she had turned her back on Crichton for just a second and he struck. Tammy was baffled and angry. Crichton had left an immense amount of information on the CD, but he was gone. All his bank accounts were liquidated. Witnesses had seen him vanish onto a private jet.
Two days after Katsumi returned from the hospital, Tammy returned from a press conference announcing the smashing of another criminal network and found Katsumi and all her personal belongings gone from her apartment. A note, in Katsumi's hand writing left on the kitchen table read: "Because I love him."

Tammy suddenly undestood.
After destroying the note, Tammy smiled as she left the apartment, happy for Katsumi.