Daniella the Destroyer

Alan had never fought a muscle girl like Daniella before that evening. All his other matches at the Amazonia Boxing Club were with big chested gym bunnies: some he knocked out and some put him on the canvas. Down to the last woman, the bunnies who floored him all welcomed him into their beds.
I wonder what kind of fuck Daniella is?, Alan speculated as the tall powerfully built Amazon of East European ancestry climbed into the ring. That she wore skimpy shorts and not regular trunks kept Alan's eyes on her body. A tattooed tiger leaped from the top of her shorts, paws brandishing boxing gloves. Alan wondered what the rest of the tat looked like when he should have been figuring out Daniella's weak spots.
"Hello Alan," Daniella purred at him softly, her eyes focusing sharply on her foe's chest and arms. "You know what my nick name is?"
Alan knew well. "Daniella the Destroyer."
"Very good!" Daniella exclaimed and Alan recognized her accent: Russian. He'd heard it on different women from the gym. "And I destroy you!"
Alan was never given such a direct threat from a female...at least not in the boxing ring. he didn't feel intimidated, but pleased as if Daniella were going to have sex with him right there and then make his favorite dish for dinner.
"Promises, promises!" Alan taunted as the couple touched gloves. The idea of fucking Daniella kept buzzing noisily in Alan's skull. For an interminable moment, Alan watched her strut back to her corner, slowly, her thighs rubbing each other with seductive purpose.
At the opening buzzer, Daniella came out smiling at Alan, ducking his punches, retaliating with jabs.
Is the bitch toying with me? he asked himself. Am I a joke to her?
Daniella had decided to knock Alan unconscious soon because she got an enormous rush from punching out males. And she was dying to see Alan flat on his back! Yet Daniella liked Alan and his trim body and blue eyes, enjoyed having their bodies pressed tightly against each other in cascade of exchanged blows.
The women in the gym had praised Alan's sexual prowess and Daniella could see how massively excited Alan was to be fighting at close quarters with her. After stroking her bare thigh the length of Alan's erection, she determined his time had come. With the mostly female crowd of spectators chanting in support, Daniella stepped forward and hammered home a gut shot, bending Alan's' face into her breasts. A right upper cut stretched him out completely, pitching Alan's chin to the ceiling.
Alan had brief seconds to groan out his agony as the universe shattered into a billion radiant point of light. A double left-right combination impacted his head.
Alan was still, eyes half open, knees passively bent. Daniella's left upper cut swept directly into Alan's chin, vibrating his skull. A straight right pummelled Alan's lower jaw and he crumpled instantly to the canvas.
As the ref counted him out, flashes of reality stabbed into the blackness swarming over Alan's brain. He heard numbers being called out and felt Daniella fondling his giant erection. There was an urge to orgasm and Alan was asleep.
"Wake up!" a voice called. "Alan are you with us?"
Alan startled awake, seated in his corner's folding chair. Emma, the ref, and his second, Desiree, were talking at him. They were silent despite the repeated movement of their lips. Then their voices and the shouting of the spectators crashed onto Alan.
"Yeah! Yeah! I'm back..." he muttered at Desiree, staring listlessly into the girl's fiery eyes, using them as as point of focus. "What just happened?"
"Daniella knocked you cold," Emma answered.
Alan looked past his seconds and saw Daniella standing in her corner, smiling at him as she raised her arms in response to the crowd's adulation. Pushing Emma and Desiree aside, Alan lurched to his feet and walked deliberately at his opponent.
"What are you smiling at?!" he demanded. The muscular brunette pouted in false compassion, irritating Alan even more.
"I put you out for the count and jerked you off in front of everyone!" Daniella bubbled. "That was funny!"
Alan's left flew at Daniella's face. She sank backwards, evading the fist. Spring back up, her gloved fist slammed on the top of Alan's head.
An explosion followed Daniella's laughter and Alan's entire body relaxed at once. He began to sway quickly , like the second hand of watch. Alan thought how odd that was since the ring was spinning counter-clockwise.
THUD!!! sounded in the darkness when Alan struck the canvas a second time.
A pounding erotic dream of a three way with Jennifer Lopez and the girl in Alan's office who resembled Lopez, except her name was Amy, flicked on in Alan's sleeping brain. The dream women quickly fused into one and Alan fucked her so hard she screamed in pleasure.
"Awaken again, lover?" Daniella's voice asked. "That's good for both of us!"
Alan was in the passenger seat of Daniella's sedan as it pulled into a decent hotel.
"Where are we going?" asked Alan.
"To find out what kind of fuck I am, silly!"

Lisa

Lisa wanted a man to knock her out in a boxing match. In her fantasies, she had the scenario worked out. Lisa was in the ring with a bare-chested, dark haired opponent, his intent eyes staring through her. The stadium they fought in was filled with screaming crowds as this was the World Inter Gender Boxing Championship Bout and Lisa was the challenger.
The Champ and Lisa had a good match and Lisa fought to the best of her ability. But since the sixth round, The Champ had control of the match and was working Lisa over against the ropes with a cascade of head shots and body blows. The start of the ninth and final round found Lisa blocking the torrent of The Champ's punches until one fist slipped through her raised gloves.
BAM!!
All Lisa saw was The Champs sexy smile and the stinging SMACK of a leather boxing glove impacting her face. Then Lisa was flat on the canvas on her back, out cold for the count. The Champ stood over the slumbering challenger as Lisa is counted out by the ref. An unconscious Lisa, grinning happily amid the flashing cameras and whirling vid recorders, is loaded on a stretcher and carried out of the ring.
In reality, Lisa was slow to make her dreams come true. Only recently she started boxing lessons, which disappointed her. All the training and sparring sessions were done with women, with whom Lisa had very little interest in fighting. There were a lot of men at the gym, but they seemed more interested in sex with Lisa than boxing with her. Lisa gave into their advances a few times to relieve the frustration of not getting what she wanted. Often she watched the men in the ring and wondered when it would be her turn.
Ron saw Lisa while he was talking on his cell phone to his girlfriend Miki. Lisa was working the speed bag, concentrating so hard she missed Ron looking her over. As he told Miki when he'd be home and what he'd make for dinner, he studied Lisa's legs in her red shorts and how her athletic top highlighted her developed shoulders and full chest.
Ron and Miki were juniors at Blake Mitchell University, respective members of the school's mens and womens boxing teams. Their relationship was a year and half old and Ron loved Miki, but he joined the same gym as Lisa because he needed a variety of women for boxing and sex. Lisa's toned legs fascinated ron and he pictured her spread out on his bed and on the canvas of a boxing ring.

"Who are you training with?" Ron asked Lisa.
Lisa looked away from the speed bag and her eyes flashed at Ron's curly black hair.
"Donna ...Donna Sloan..I'm Lisa..."
"I'm Ron," Ron answered. "Donna's good, but she holds back her pupils too much. She doesn't think you're ready for a fight, I bet?"
"Yeah, but I feel ready."
Lisa's pretty face glowed at Ron. "How long have you been training?" Ron asked.
"Seven months."
"okay..." Ron studied Lisa's chin and jaw for weaknesses.
"I'm ready...really!" Lisa almost pleaded.
"Yeah you are." said Ron.

Outside the gym Ron and Lisa met a few times. the discussions centered why each had taken up boxing. Lisa was eleven when she saw her first fight and loved to watch big strong men fight each other. She wanted to feel their strength personally.
"I only fight women." Ron said.

They quickly cleared a space in Ron's living room, moving chairs and tables into the kitchen. Lisa kept her eyes on Ron in his gym shorts and ignored the framed pictures of Miki, who was at a sea shore resort where Ron was going the next day.
Finally getting to fight a male unsettled Lisa. Looking at Ron's arms, chest and eyes told Lisa he was stronger than her. What would it feel like? When would the punch that puts her to sleep arrive and how would it feel?
The pair circled, ducking each others punches and then firing back. Ron got closer to Lisa, their lips just touching when he worked her belly. Lisa saw Ron's face tight with determination. With thinking, Lisa backed away from Ron in a joy full terror.
"Where you going Lisa?" Ron strode in pursuit of the staggering girl. "Besides to Dreamland!"
The last three words jolted Lisa and her arms fell in surprise.
WAP!
Ron left upper cut bashed Lisa on the chin. The floor spun up from under her and Lisa heard birds singing. Ron followed through with a left right combo to Lisa's face and a hard gutshot. Agony and shock coiled through the girl's body as her vision began to dim. With massive effort, Lisa raised her arms again, but they seemed listless and limp.
"From the moment I saw you, I knew!" she heard Ron say through her daze as he pushed her arms aside. "What you were looking for!"
The right hook smashed reality in bits for Lisa. Things were getting dar. It's finally happening.....she thought.
WHAM!
Ron repeated his left to the chin and Lisa's head jerked back and then lolled forward. She swayed happily, arms swinging by her waist, her legs transforming into jelly.
Ron's last punch, which put out Lisa's lights, planted her on the couch. She lay there, slumped in dream filled slumber, her entire being content.

Miki on Vacation

"I'm here for the week," said Miki as she sipped her drink and ate lunch with Gary at the beach side bar. "My boyfriend Ron arrives tomorrow afternoon."
Gary's mental filters blocked Miki's second statement, as it was unimportant.
Gary first glimpsed Miki as she checked into the Cielo Nueve Resort. They looked each other over. Gary turned his head to examine Miki's well toned ass and legs as she passed, guessing the girl was a boxer.
"I'm starting my senior year at Blake Mitchell University," explained Miki when Gary began talking to her at the bar. "i love to box because I like to hit people...all the physical contact."
Gary returned Miki's broad smile. "Me, too. I've been fighting since high school. Almost 30 years now."
Miki felt a rush: an older man! She noticed his powerful arms. When Miki finished her fourth martini, unsteadily placing it next to her empty plate, Gary asked about her plans for the afternoon.
"None..." Miki answered, carefully waiting for Gary's proposal. Her eyes brightened at his suggestion of sparring in her or his hotel room. Miki remained cool, stating she was unsure since they had only just met. Gary was persuasive and well built. Miki finally agreed, picturing a shirtless Gary by her bed.

Miki was a girl whose beauty was magnified by her boxing gear. Gary wanted her more when he saw her in the outfit she wore for her boyfriend Ron: a clingy yellow T-shirt and red gym shorts. They squared off in Miki's bedroom.
"Who taught you to fight?" asked Gary.
"My father, when I was a young girl."
"Well, he did a good job!" Gary said. "Say goodnight to papa!"
"What?" Miki blurted.
WHAP!!
The right hook sucker punch threw Miki's brain into chaos. As her skull lolled sideways, it looked like Miki might recover. Then Miki smiled and collapsed unconscious on the bed.
A wave of vague guilt came over Gary for the sucker punch, but he ignored it. He felt a stronger lust for the prone Miki and an intense thrill at knock the girl out for the count. With gusto, he slapped Miki's backside and rolled her face up. Clasping her jaw, Gary rocked Miki's head back and forth until her eyes fluttered open. She smiled up at her conqueror.
"I win!" declared Gary.
"I lose.." purred Mike.

Miki woke in an empty bed. First she assumed Ron was making breakfast. Then the throbbing in he jaw reminded her she'd spent the afternoon fucking Gary.
Remembering his knockout punch, Miki dressed quickly and found Gary at the bar.
They only glanced at each other and scrambled back to Miki's room. The pair made love for an hour.
"Let's wrestle to a knockout?" suggested Gary.
"Yes!" Miki shouted wildly, pouncing on her bed partner. The pair rolled violently on the bed, until Gary dazed Miki with an elbow to her chin. He slipped behind the dizzy girl and snaked his arms around her neck.
"You're a great ride!" Miki heard in her ear as she pulled at Gary's arms. "I know you want this!"
Miki felt wave after wave of sleepiness roll over her, filling her weakened body with the potent desire to slumber and have sex. Rapidly her arms became heavy and her breathing slower. Miki was enraptured in the joyful anticipation of her knockout. She sagged against Gary, sound asleep.
Gary put her on the bed and gave her a kiss.

Five minutes later Miki was emerging from vivid dreams. She was in love with Gary.
As she sprinted down the hallway to the bar, a hand clasped Miki's shoulder and spun her. A fist sailed in Miki's face, followed by an explosion of stars.
Gary carried the limp girl boxer over his shoulder to her bedroom.

Miki was never so aroused. She and Gary had volcanic sex, drinking down each other's bodies long into the night.
"I have something for you, Gary said the next morning. He had one hand behind his back.
"What?!" Miki asked lustily.
WHAM!!!
Gary's loaded glove flew from behind his back and popped MIki on the chin. She fell backward, eyes wide, against the wall.
"Do you love me ...?" she asked, groggy.
"No." Gary answered.
"Gooooooo...dddd...."
Miki sank to the floor, out cold.
Gary patted her head and walked out.

By the time Miki was conscious and able to move, Gary was gone. The desk clerk told her that Gary had checked out an hour ago, no forwarding address.
"But this box came for you," he told the forlorn Miki. It was a large square box and when Miki read the note attached, her heart leaped. It was from Ron!
She ran with back to her room and read his note.
"I'll be there soon! Here's a little present to show how much I love you! Love, Ron!"
As Miki hastily removed the lid, a red boxing glove on the end of metal spring shot up, socking her under the chin.
Miki staggered drunkenly and dropped the box. A harsh orgasm rattled her body and she flopped backward onto the couch. She lay there, out cold, for two hours. Her head was full of erotic dreams of Ron and Gary and "Sugarwalls" by Sheena Easton played in her sleeping brain.

Mina's Fall

When she was a young girl, Mina loved to fist fight. Lana, her slightly older sister, would arrange matches with kids from their neighborhood. Most of Mina's opponents were boys, close to Mina's age of 13.
The bouts were bare knuckled and took place after school in one of the out-of-the way fields at the recreation center. The boys limped away, bruised and completely defeated. The secret to Mina's triumphs was her unexpected aggression. The small, thin girl charged at the boys when Lana rang the improvised bell and clobbered her startled foes.
Erik asked to fight Mina on a sunny Saturday afternoon. Mina knew Erik from her English class and thought he was handsome and smart. At the clang of the bell, Mina threw herself at Erik, who stepped aside from her. Erik leaped back into Mina's path after her small fist flew past his head and slugged the girl on the jaw.
The punch stilled Mina instantly. She swayed on her feet, eyes wide and expressionless, mouth sagging open. She wondered what Erik and the spectators were gawking at. Mina's body relaxed to the consistency of a rubber band. Tilting forward, Mina felt the impact of her body striking the ground in darkness.
"Mina....say something..."
The blackness parted and Mina saw the blue sky filled by the looming faces of Lana and Erik, who sat her upright.
"Are you with us Mina?" Mina responded to Erik's deep voice and looked him over, trying to recall what happened.
"Knocked me out...." Mina sighed as she stood on her feet. Lana and Erik carried the young teen, her arms over their shoulders, back to the girl's dressing room. Mina tried to remember the events of the last ten minutes, but she was still very groggy.

For a long time after the match with Erik, Mina stopped fighting. It was not fear, but confusion that stilled her fists. Mina could not comprehend how the knock out happened: she was fighting like always and then she was asleep. She felt herself drift off and then slumber on the ground. When she woke, Mina did not feel defeated or humiliated, but immensely changed. An intense openness burst inside her in the darkness and Mina saw the world, and men, differently afterwards.
At Mitchell University, Mina joined the women's boxing team and fought again. Training was done between women, but Mina often fought members of the men's team. Mina had grown from a merely pretty adolescent into a lean, sexually inviting young woman, whose beauty and fighting skill made her welcome among the male fighters.
Dion was pleasantly confused when Mina asked for a fight. They had slept together twice, each time after parties at the two-room English department of Mitchell University. Both encounters were immensely satisfying for both and nothing more was expected, at least as far as Dion was concerned. So when the girl challenged him, Dion was perplexed, as if the girl wanted more from him than sex.
"I've got a few inches on you, Mina," he told her.
"Just a few!" Mina peered into Dion's eyes, slyly smiling, canines flashing, as if she was aware of something he was not.
"You want to get hurt? Is that it?"
Dion's last three bouts with women were at the school's Oring Gymnasium. All three ended with the women knocked out cold. Dion reminded Mina of that fact.
"I know, I saw the last one," Mina purred. "You flattened my cousin Mikki Huang in two rounds. But I know you wouldn't hurt me. I know that already."
Dion resolved to finish Mina early.
For a moment they simply looked at each other and Mina walked away.

Keeping his resolution, Dion had Mina asleep on the canvas by round two. He watched her glide around the ring, admiring her technique and punching strength, adoring Mina's long legs and round face. Dion was a lover waiting for the perfect moment to take his beloved.
Dion allowed his opponent time to perform for the audience of mostly women. In the moments before he laid into Mina, Dion wondered how let down her team members would be when he put Mina out? Considering how women actually feel toward each other, Dion decided, stinging Mina's cheek with a right, they'll cheer when she's carried out of the ring.
Mina stumbled a few steps. Automatically, she pulled her fists together as she regained her footing. Then Mina counterattacked Dion and furious punches flew between them.
Dion hammered the girl harshly. Mina punched back hard, right to Dion's face, lefts to his torso, but each shot Dion landed throbbed through her body and drained Mina more and more each time.
Mina felt exhaustion creep through her and backed away from Dion. Dion surged forward, smacking a right upper cut to Mina's chin. The girl tumbled back, in a semi-crouched position, with her arms falling from their defensive position. Swerving to the left, Dion punished Mina's face with a brutal left-right combination. A gutshot bent the girl over, widening her eyes in agony.
"Night Mina!" was the faltering girl's last conscious memory. A comet exploded in her head and Mina dropped loudly onto the canvas.
As he caught his breath, Dion surveyed his work, enjoying the sight of Mina's wide open legs in the tight pink shorts.
Mina's sleeping brain swirled with brilliant lights and exploding pleasure, jumbled together with images and voices. Abby, the women's team captain, counted her friend out slowly giving her every chance to recover. That was futile: Mina settled into a deep knock out.
Mina came out of her slumber five minutes later in her dressing room. She was groggy and babbled about "Erik" when she could speak. Dion laughed to himself as he stood over Mina, assuming she had dreamt of a lover.

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.