Dan Boxer's blog

APRIL'S OFFER – PART SEVEN (FINAL PART)
The week flew by, mostly since I was trying to stay busy to keep my mind off the Friday fight and trying to stay sharp with some short gym sessions. April was at the gym a couple of those times, doing some working out but I think mostly to keep tabs on me … making sure I was ready for Friday. Of course, every time she caught me staring at her, she'd do something to get me hot – rub her crotch, fondle a breast or just toss her hair, it didn't matter because it worked.
By the time we both got back home, it was all I could do not to tackle her before I even said hello. She was either deliberately being more sensual and sexy than normal (a tough task), or I was subconsciously worried that she wasn't going to be around after Friday, but either way I spent the week lusting for her when she wasn't around.
And when she was there, our intimacy was at another level. It wasn't lovemaking … it was screwing, fucking hard, with both of us so intensely wanting to consume the other that neither of us wanted to stop. We pushed ourselves beyond exhaustion, each of us trying to simultaneously please and overwhelm the other.
I knew I shouldn't have been so physical, since I was going to need all my strength and endurance on Friday against a monstrous guy like Duke. But no male could resist April … she was one of those rare women that you wanted to be with – and be inside – more and more the longer you were around her. And, damn, if it was possible she looked even more spectacular as the week went along.
It was the Tuesday night, three days before the fight, when I got home from the gym. April had been there for a while, standing just away from the ring and watching me do some light sparring with a buddy, and was wearing a tight spaghetti-strap white top and the shortest, tightest white shorts ever. She had drawn a crowd when she was working the heavy bag earlier, and it wasn't for her punching prowess.
Between rounds I'd glance over to where she was, and she would reach between her legs and start rubbing herself. I got so hard inside my protector that I was having to constantly readjust the package and was worried it may start poking out the top.
But one time I looked over and she was gone. I was a little concerned until I got home and saw a note taped on the door. It had two words that looked like they were quickly scrawled, "Bedroom. Now!"
When I walked in the bedroom, she was laying on her back, naked on top of the sheets. To say she looked unbelievable was a huge understatement, and I could literally smell her excitement all over the room. She had already brought herself to orgasm – probably several times – and when I got to the foot of the bed I could see small drops of her wetness all around her pussy. Damn ….
"I need you inside me right now," she said, and it took me about five seconds to strip my sweats and climb over the foot of the bed. She grabbed me as quick as I could get to her, pulled me on top of her and hissed, "I want you to fuck me harder than you've ever fucked anything in your life. Pound me over and over, shoot your cum into me and don't you dare stop. I'll get you back hard if you start … losing it."
I didn't need much of an invitation. I was already as excited as I'd ever been, and since she was already so wet and hot I was quickly thrusting hard into her – hard enough that I would have been worried about hurting her had she not given implicit directions. That, and the fact that she kept screaming, "Harder … harder … come on, baby, use that big cock … fuck me MORE!"
It went on for what seemed like hours, both of us cumming several times. Twice I had to stop with exhaustion and a soft cock and rolled on my back, but both times she quickly used her talented hands to work me up again. She then mounted me, and if possible the pounding was even more physical as she rode me hard, and was still screaming, "YES … YES … come on, baby, do me more … punch me hard."
I don't remember passing out, but I woke up during the night and April was still straddling me, also passed out. I didn't wake her, because even in my worn-out shape, having her pressed against me and us chest-to-chest was still one of the most pleasurable things I could imagine. I just laid there and eventually fell back asleep, her body still on top of me, and me knowing that I wouldn't be doing this any more before the fight … or else I would have absolutely no energy come Friday.

++++++

As I figured, April had made all the arrangements for Friday night before I even asked about the details. It was going to be another private bout – she, Duke and I – and we'd figured on 9 p.m. after the rest of the gym regulars had left and the manager had locked up. April, of course, had a key, and she had gone to the gym early to set things up.
I had packed my equipment early that afternoon … I didn't need much, just gloves, trunks and shoes, since April insisted that her fighters "man out" again and have nothing under the trunks. She also wanted us to box this time without mouthpieces … almost insuring that there would be blood coming from both of us. I headed over to the gym early, getting there before 8 just when the gym had emptied. I walked in the open side door and immediately headed back to the locker rooms … I didn't want to see Duke until we were both in the ring.
As I expected, the doors had "Champion" and "Challenger" signs, and I stepped inside the "Champion" door. Even though Duke had beaten me – badly – in our last bout, my win over Marco had given me "prize possession" and qualified me for the champ's room.
April could read me like a book, and she knew I'd get there early. I was still naked except for my white boots, and had just fished my regular white trunks out of my bag when he quickly came into the locker room carrying hand wraps and tape.
"Mmmmm … you look good, champ," she said as I stood there holding my trunks, making no effort to hide my nakedness. I watched her smile as she watched my cock slowly rise and get hard … and thought to myself it must be a burden to carry around such a talent, the ability to make men stiffen just from a glance.
She certainly had that effect on me, especially the way she was dressed tonight – the slinkiest black satin dress imaginable, clinging to her skin like it was painted on and making it obvious there was nothing under the dress anywhere except skin. The dress was slit on one side, the slit rising halfway up her hip and showing one lovely leg which she had cocked to the side as she stood, hands on hips and continuing to eye me after putting the wraps on the table.
She looked like something out of a dream … deep red lips, her blonde hair loose and free and bouncing around her face with every movement. Her nails were also bright red, and I could feel them digging into my back as she put her arms around me and held me close for a second.
"Sit here on the table," she said, and as I sat down she grabbed the hand wraps and stood in front of me started to wrap, expertly fitting them not too loose and not too tight. It was a little surreal, me being naked with a hard cock and sitting in front of her as she worked. She taped off each one when finished, and as I reached to the end of the table to grab my gloves and trunks she quickly grabbed my hand.
"Not yet," she said as she pulled my hand to her chest. "I'm going to help you relax first."
She again reached around my back and boosted herself onto the table (now I know why the dress was slit so high), her knees on either side of my hips as she straddled me, putting her arms now around my shoulders so her face was right in front of mine.
"That feel good?," she said.
I could feel her pussy already wet as it rubbed against my throbbing cock. My mind was screaming for me to stop…I was going to need every ounce of strength I had against a giant of a man who was intent on hurting me, and it was going to start in about a half-hour. But I don't know of a heterosexual man alive who could turn down April's charms … especially when she was this close.
All it took was one quick shift from her, and I popped inside her so quickly I almost didn't realize it. My god, she is talented with that thing, I thought.
"I wanted you inside me so bad," she moaned as she squeezed me tight with her arms, and I squeezed just as tight with my hands on her cute butt. "I wanted to fuck you good before the fight."
She started riding me once again, except this time I had the pleasure of her boobs bouncing on either side of my face every time she went up and down – and she knew I was enjoying it because she was half laughing, half screaming as the intensity of her thrusts increased.
"Come on, baby, cum up in me," she said breathlessly before throwing her head back and kicking her hips into high gear.
It took her less than a minute to get me to the point that my cock was pulsing out hot streams of cum … about the time she had a thunderous orgasm. And as quickly as she had mounted me, she hopped off, straightened her dress and quickly laced up and taped my gloves. It was like a whirlwind, and before I knew it she was headed out the door.
"Got to go take care of Duke," she said. "I'll see you in the ring, Champ."
I wasn't sure what she meant by "taking care" of him, but I had more things to worry about right then.

++++++

After slipping on my trunks, I decided to walk out to the ring after a few minutes, mostly because staying in the locker room felt too strange after April's abrupt mounting. There was nobody else in the main part of the gym when I climbed through the ropes, but April had already done some setup … there were water bottles, spit buckets and towels in each corner, ready to go.
I moved to one corner and began shadowboxing, punching the corner pad and trying to stay loose, and I had started to wonder if everyone else had left and I'd been stood up when I heard a door slam back in the locker room area, and then saw Duke walking quickly toward the ring.
He looked even bigger than I remembered. Maybe it was the bright red trunks or the red gloves, both of which matched his hair, but he appeared almost larger than life as he leered at me as he quickly slipped through the ropes. He never took his eyes off me and had a malevolent look on his face … an angry look … one that gave the impression that he was ready for a fight.
April was not far behind him, but had a harried look on her face as she climbed up to the ring apron and through the ropes. Duke immediately walked to mid-ring next to her, and I followed suit.
"Okay, boys, you know why we're here," she said to both of us. "Three-minute rounds on the timer and two minutes in between, and no limit to the number of rounds. We go until one of you knocks out the other. Keep it clean… touch gloves and come out fighting."
I put my gloves out…and Duke only turned around and walked back to his corner. When he got there, he turned and fixed his glare back on me, just as I was backing into my own corner and April was following.
"What gives?" I asked her.
"Well, he was eating me out and licking my pussy in the locker room," she said, "… and I told him you had just shot your load up in me and he was probably swallowing your cum. I think he got a little upset."
I was speechless, and barely noticed April quickly slipping out of the ring, the buzzer on the automatic timer going off and Duke two-thirds of the way across the ring, coming at me quickly with gloves high and a murderous look on his face. Oh, shit, I thought …. as I ducked under a wild left hand and tried to step away, only to be grabbed by Duke's big right arm and almost thrown back into my own corner.
It was all I could to fend off the barrage of punches Duke was throwing, most of them wild but all of them hard, and he was almost screaming. "You little fuck," he said, "I'm gonna beat the shit out of you."
I grabbed him around his arms, my head tucked under his chin, and spun around before letting go and backing off quickly, backpedaling and finally getting under control as Duke stalked me across the ring.
At least now I had a fighting chance, and when Duke waded in I started popping out jabs aimed at his face, and most of them got through since he was thinking more about beating me senseless and less about being in an actual boxing match. He was overanxious, and his lack of defense wasn't something I'd expected after his cool and calculating methods in our first fight, and I tried to take advantage of both. I kept peppering his face with jabs and following with quick right hands while I back-pedaled.
I could see he was getting frustrated in not being able to either corner me or take me out quickly, and it was a stark contrast to what I'd expected. In our last bouts, Duke had always been the picture of efficiency, a calculated boxing machine. But now he was swinging wildly, and missing every time, and I was able to counter with a lot of success.
Keep it up, big guy, I thought, and not only will you tire out, I'll box you around and do some damage, especially since we're not wearing mouthpieces. And it hasn't been that long since Marco busted your jaw …
"I'm going to beat your ass," Duke hissed at me as he stepped and leaned forward to throw another big right hand at my head, but I saw it coming from a mile away and ducked my whole body under it. At the same time, I pounded my best left hook under the ribs of his fully-exposed body, and doubled up with right-left-right hands directly on the waistband of his trunks.
If we'd had mouthpieces, Duke's would have flown out. Instead, all I got was an "Uuunnhhh," as he bent over double and brought his gloves down to his body in pain. I whistled another left hook off his chin and my follow right crashed directly into his face, and shockingly Duke went down on his back.
"Yeah!," I yelled while I stood over him, shocked at my success in the very first round. "Get up, you big fuck, so I can hit you some more."
It only took a second for Duke to recover, and just as he got up the timer buzzer went off ending the first round. "You're lucky, big guy," I said as we both went to our corners, "I was just getting ready to punish you."
I was already standing in my corner, leaning on the ropes, when April climbed into the ring and walked my way.
"Oooo, champ, I think I'm cumming already," she said. "I got so wet when you put him down … keep it up and I'll have that big cock in me in a few more rounds."
"Maybe just one more round," I said as she walked toward the other corner. Yes, I was cocky, especially given the result of my last bout with Duke, but he hadn't been close to hitting me with a clean shot except for when I was pinned in the corner early. And he went down so quickly I started wondering what kind of shape he was in as I looked across the ring, where April was toweling him off and talking rapid-fire.
The warning buzzer soon sounded, and both of us were almost at mid-ring by the Round 2 buzzer. I had expected another bull-rush, but this time Duke was more calm and collected … much to my chagrin. If he'd stayed mad and kept missing, I would have taken him out in short order. But this was the Duke I'd expected before the fight began, and the one I knew I'd have trouble with.
Both of us circled and I kept jabbing at his head, but now he was answering with jabs and following right hands, and they had something behind them. I'd forgotten what kind of power he had, and a right hand that crashed into my temple was enough to remind me to stay away from him.
Duke spent the entire second round trying to cut the ring off and hem me in, but I was able to dance out of trouble just about every time and made him pay by cracking his head with lefts or rights, depending on which side I escaped his efforts to corner me.
One of my shots ripped across his nose as I danced away, and I could see drops of blood forming on the end of his nose. That made me even bolder as I stood in front of him and threw another combination that rocked his head from side to side.
"Come on, you big shit," I yelled at him. "At least try to keep up with me."
The bating didn't work. Duke kept his cool and kept constantly stepping forward, trying to pin me in, and late in the round he anticipated me ducking under one of his punches and caught me with his elbow. It prevented me from moving away, and his right cross clipped me across the chin and a follow left upper-cutted behind my gloves and landed flush on my chin.
The force staggered me back into the ropes, and Duke had been waiting for that. He moved in and threw a big combination right at the buzzer ending the round that missed … but as I started to step away a left hand crashed against my temple and I went to the canvas on my side.
The punch came well after the buzzer, but of course I had to referee to voice my objections to, and Duke only smiled as he stood over me for a second before heading to his corner. Since the round was over, I stayed seated on the canvas and rested for several seconds before getting up and going to my corner.
April was in Duke's corner, toweling him again and poking his nostril full of Vaseline, before she came to my side of the ring.
"Thought you told us to keep it clean," I said as she walked up with the towel.
"I also told you to protect yourself at all times," she shot back. "That was a rookie mistake."
I knew she was right, but it didn't take the sting of the blow away.
"Now are you going to cry about it, or are you going to go out and fuck him up for me?" she said. I only looked at her and nodded slightly as the warning buzzer sounded.
The buzzer for Round 3 went off, and this time both of us came out more carefully, guard and gloves high, and spent the first half of the round exchanging jabs and waiting for an opening. But Duke was still moving forward with the same sense of purpose from the preceding round, and it was all I could do to stay away from those gloves that looked small when compared to his massive body.
I was able to split his gloves a couple of times and land jabs on his nose, restarting the blood flow as it began to run down into his mouth, but it didn't appear to bother him much as he relentlessly pursued me and began landing a couple of jabs and one following right hand on my already-sore jaw from his second-round uppercut. Either I was already slowing down or he was starting to find the range, and neither of those were good for me as the third round came to a close. I was already feeling the effects of the bout when I went to my corner, and as I leaned against the ropes I saw Duke smiling at me from his corner before April stepped in between.
"Save your energy," she said as she wiped my face and made a point to lean in close, her breasts rubbing against my chest … I was able to feel how hard her nipples were. "Stay calm and breathe … like this," she said as she breathed deeply, pushing her chest against me even more and leaning her body into me – feeling my cock get hard just from the brief contact.
It was still hard when she walked away, and the sight of her ass moving toward the other corner didn't deflate it one bit. I was still thinking about how good it would be to be inside her right then, when the buzzer jarred me back to reality.
Maybe it was the breathing, or maybe it was a spark from the brief contact with April's stunning body, but I felt better after the break and was on my toes again when the fourth-round buzzer sounded. I was intent on going back to the stick-and-move plan, but I also remembered how much success I'd had with the southpaw stance in our earlier bout and decided it was time for that.
I started pistoning out my right hand, some hard punches that Duke obviously wasn't ready for since more than a few got past his defending left and cracked into his head and face. Blood was quickly gushing from his nose again and he was blinking hard when my right pounded into his temple.
I kept getting my punches off before Duke for the first half of the round, and he had been unable to counter with any effectiveness against my southpaw stance. Emboldened by my success, I followed up one of those rights to his face by stepping in close and pivoting, dipping my shoulder and ripping a left uppercut under his guard that crashed into Duke's chin hard.
I could hear the big man's teeth click together as he staggered two steps backwards, until his back was against his own corner pad, dazed by the uppercut and covering up. I stayed on top of him, throwing hard punches until my arms ached until I got too close and Duke was able to grab my arms and hold on.
We wrestled along the ropes for a long time before I was able to get my right arm free, and I thudded punches into his left side until we broke apart slightly. That's when I ripped another uppercut that snapped Duke's head back again and again backed him into his own corner.
If the ropes hadn't been there, he would have been down again, but as it was he was sitting with all his weight on the middle rope and I was pounding him non-stop, his upper body rocking back and forth from my gloves, until the buzzer sounded.
I stood for several seconds right in front of him, his guard still up and him leaning heavily against the ropes. I noticed that my cock was hard as a brick and my trunks weren't hiding it very much.
"What's wrong, you big pussy," I yelled at Duke. "The little man too much for you? You want to give up now, or you want me to fuck you up some more?"
Duke didn't say anything, and just waited for me to stop and head for my corner.
"Guess you want some more," I said as I walked away. "I'll be back in a couple of minutes to see if you're ready to quit."
I passed April on the way to my corner, stopping for only a second, and she ran her hand across my trunks and winked at me before turning her attentions to Duke. I was glad my white trunks were wet with sweat already, or the cum I was leaking would have been noticeable – not that there was anybody around except the three of us.
April stayed in his corner the entire two minutes trying to piece Duke back together, but that was okay. I figured I was one good punch from putting him down for good, and I didn't want any distractions from thinking about that … even though looking across the ring, her ass pointed back at me in that skin-tight black satin, was plenty distracting.
I was bouncing in the corner, bobbing and weaving, before the buzzer for Round 5 sounded, and when it did I all but sprinted across the ring and trapped Duke again in the corner, raining punches from all angles and hoping that some of them got through to do damage. Duke didn't try to fight back, and only covered up with his gloves and elbows tucked in tight.
It would have been odd if anyone else had been there to see it … a 160-pound guy flailing away on the body of a guy almost a foot taller and almost 100 pounds heavier. And even more oddly, the big guy wasn't fighting back, and it went that way for most of the fifth round … Duke leaning back on the ropes and covering up, and me hitting him with everything I had.
After a couple of minutes of this, my arms felt like lead weights, and I leaned into Duke to catch my breath for a minute. I wasn't worried about retaliation since Duke hadn't even thrown a punch the whole round … and that turned out to be a mistake.
I wasn't paying attention when Duke rolled his shoulders, shifted his weight and …. BAMMMM! An uppercut ripped up through my chin, banging my jawbones together and causing me to see stars. Before I could move my arms, Duke's right hand pounded into my cheek, spinning my head, and a follow-up left caught me in the mouth. I could feel my lip split as I went to my knees and onto one side, dazed and confused.
As I shook my head to clear the cobwebs, I looked up at Duke standing over me, a malicious smile on his face.
"My turn now, punk," he spat at me.
I quickly figured out that The big guy had been "playing possum" with me for the better part of two rounds, covering up so I couldn't really hurt him and waiting until I punched myself out. It was a classic rookie mistake, and I fell for it hard.
I was still shaky when I stood up … which was when I realized I could barely hold my arms up to defend myself, much less throw any hard punches. And even worse, Duke knew that. I started backing up in a hurry, but in my groggy state it didn't take him long to catch up and work me into a corner.
Once he had me there, those massive arms started pistoning out, the gloves on the ends hammering my head as I tried to pull my guard up. When I did that, Duke was ready, and a hard left-right combination sunk deep into my waistband as I crumpled to the mat face-first.
I thought I was about to retch on the canvas when I heard the buzzer sound, but I was able to keep that down while I realized Duke's boots were right in front of my face. He didn't appear to be in a hurry to get to his corner.
"Just stay there and I won't have to hurt you any more," he said. "Not that I don't want to, you little shit … I hope you get up so I can make sure you'll never be sticking your cock into anything that's mine again."
All I could do was lay there, until he finally walked away and April all but dragged me back to my corner. I was sitting on the canvas while she put smelling salts under my nose and used an ice pack to try to stop the bleeding from my mouth.
"Snap out of it," she kept saying, "or he's going to hurt you bad. I'm not kidding."
"I know," I said back, as my head finally began clearing up.
I looked across the ring, past April's shoulders, and saw Duke standing in his corner. This time, he was the one that looked anxious to get back to fighting. He was shadow-boxing and bouncing on his toes, showing me that all my punches over the last two rounds had been wasted and that he was fresh as he could be. In my sitting state on the canvas, I could feel it every time he bounced.
I finally got to my feet just before the warning buzzer sounded, and I felt a little fresher just from standing up. But I knew I needed to stay away from Duke for at least another round to try to recover more, and I started backing away and dancing away from the time the sixth round started. I was in survival mode, but it was working as I was able to either step back from or block most of the big man's punches.
"Come on and fight!" he yelled at me once, but I wasn't biting … it was time to stay away and regroup, not to mention try to stop from bleeding all over the ring. I didn't throw a punch the entire sixth round, but I also didn't get hit by anything but blocked or glancing shots, and I could tell Duke was frustrated when the round ended after he chased me around for most of the three minutes.
But I was still dead tired and laid heavily across the top rope between rounds, my arms draped over the corner ropes to keep me upright, trying to regain some energy, when April came walking from Duke's corner. She saw how I felt.
"He's pretty tired, too," she said as she leaned close into me and I got a view of her breasts inside that black satin. At that point, my brain and my cock were on two different wave lengths, and my trunks were so soaked that they might as well have been invisible since the flesh showed right through. That flesh was hard again, and got harder when she rubbed her body against me … almost straddling me as I stood there, my cock right against her crotch. And then she started moving around against me…
Damn, here I was fighting for my life, and all I could think about was ripping her clothes off and fucking this incredible woman right here in the middle of the ring … and then letting her fuck me when I wore down.
She didn't say a word, even when the warning buzzer went off, and just stepped away and slid through the ropes. I was still trying to figure out what had happened – was she trying to "inspire" me, did she feel sorry for me and wanted to help me … or, in a quick thought, was she trying to wear me down even more and make things even easier for Duke to take me out?
I didn't have time to think any more once the buzzer sounded to start Round 7. I did feel a little refreshed, but it still wasn't time to mix it up with Duke's kind of power. I stayed away, but Duke wasn't doing as much chasing to start the round … he pretty much set up at mid-ring and let me circle around him, popping out his jab and only occasionally stepping forward with a follow-up right, and I was able to block most of those.
Since I hadn't hit him in almost two rounds, I figured it was time to go on the offense at least a little bit, and I threw out a couple of jabs that pushed his gloves back into his face. I followed the second with a right hand that thudded off his temple and a left that dug under his ribs before I quickly backed off. Maybe April was right … maybe he was tired, so I stepped in with a right and pivoted for another uppercut.
But Duke was waiting for that … apparently, he'd been waiting on me to make a move like that for two rounds. He quickly moved close, catching my left under his burly right arm, and bulled me back against the ropes where he started hammering me with his left hand.
He was plenty fresh enough to stay one-half step ahead of me … when I'd raise my guard to stop his lefts aimed at my head, he's pound it into my body, and when I dropped my guard, his left whistled off my jaw. That went on for a while as he used his weight to hold me helpless against the ropes … if we'd had a referee he would have broken us apart, but since there wasn't one of those around, Duke was taking full advantage.
With one hand pinned behind him and the other one not covering fast enough, Duke's one-hand attack was plenty enough to weaken me in a hurry. My stomach was turning into one large bruise, I was having trouble breathing as his glove kept digging under my ribs, and in addition to my mouth running blood one of those lefts had ripped across my eyelid and a cut there was running blood into my eye.
I tried to slip to the canvas to stop Duke's rhythmic punches, but I was trapped by his arm and couldn't move. I slid sideways along the ropes, but slid right into a corner as Duke kept hammering away, rapidly turning me into his personal punching bag.
The buzzer couldn't have sounded quick enough, but it didn't stop Duke's assault. He kept hitting me, bouncing back and forth between my face and my gut, until April pulled his arm away. I saw him look at her and smile before he backed off and walked to his corner, and I could swear she had a quick grin for him as I went to my hands and knees in pain.
I dragged myself up on the ropes and followed them to my corner, where I sat heavily on the middle rope as April worked on me, trying to revive me. I didn't understand much of what she was saying for a long time, until almost time for the warning buzzer.
"You don't have to do this any more," she said, and I'm sure she saw my eyes weren't focused. "Just go down early and it'll be over soon …"
"Not quitting," I managed to stammer.
She didn't respond, and silently slipped through the ropes at the warning buzzer. I pulled myself upright by the ropes just in time for the buzzer to begin Round 8, but I knew I was in no shape to fight. My body was a mass of black and red, and my right eye was almost swollen shut … which was why I didn't notice until I stood up that Duke was right in front of me
I quickly covered up, halfway crouching over as Duke started a two-fisted assault … but it wasn't the all-out assault I had expected. The big man was almost relaxed, taking his time and picking his shots. Either he didn't want to make the mistake I had and punch himself out, or he knew I was all but finished and wanted to stretch the abuse out for a while.
He may not have been raining punches, but they still had plenty on them as his big left and right hands thudded on the sides of my head as I tried to cover with my gloves. A big left hook ripped across my jaw and caused spit to fly out of my mouth, and Duke followed with hard jabs and crosses to my face that split my lip even more, smashed my nose as blood spurted out, and kept pounding into my swollen right eye.
There was a momentary pause, but my head was so low, around the level of Duke's waistband, that I couldn't tell what was coming next. But I soon felt it, as Duke swung his right hand from around canvas level and shot a murderous uppercut behind my guard and under my chin.
My head snapped back and my legs turned to rubber as I flew back against the corner pad, and started to slide to the canvas … before Duke's left arm shot up under my chin. He was literally pinning me to the pad, holding me up like a scarecrow with one of those meaty arms.
"Now we're having fun," I heard him hiss out as his right hand started pounding into my chest and abs. I tried to raise my guard, but my arms were leaden and eventually just hung at my sides as Duke continued to punch my body non-stop.
My eye, mouth and jaw may have looked bad, but before Duke was finished it was my body that was screaming in pain as Duke's right hand dug deep into me. My chest and abs were so sore that I could no longer breathe deep, and air only came in wet chunks through my bloody nose and mouth. Small drops of blood flew out of my mouth every time Duke's glove crashed into my stomach and on the waistband of my formerly-white trunks, and eventually his arm was covered with dried blood.
Just when I was close to passing out from the pain, Duke stopped punching my body … and started using his right hand above his pinning arm, punching my already bloody face. One hard right caught me with my mouth open, dislodging two teeth that I felt fly out, and another caused blood to spurt out from above my eye as I hung helpless against the corner pad.
"Maybe I'll let her come up here and finish punching you out," Duke said as he nodded toward April, who was standing on the ring apron. "But she'd be way too much fighter for you right now."
Another big right spun me around out of the corner and almost sent me through the ropes, which held me up for Duke to pound a left and a right across my face, my head flying back and forth like a rag doll.
"Time for you to go down for good, little man," Duke said as he wound up another uppercut that I was defenseless to stop. I heard my jaw crack and new pain sensations burst out as it ripped under my chin, and I toppled forward face-first into the canvas, out cold.

++++++

I don't know how long I was out, but when I started to regain consciousness I noticed two sets of feet next to my head – Duke's red boxing boots and April's black pumps, only inches apart.
As I looked up, I saw that April had shed her black dress and was naked in all her glory in the ring, except for her shoes.
April looking up at Duke, and I saw that she had his red trunks already pulled down around his ankles and was giving him a hard hand job … and that some of the cum he'd already shot out had landed on my prone body. April had a big smile on her face as she continued to jerk Duke off.
"Oooooo, champ, save some of that for me," she laughed.
When she finally ended the hand job – Duke's cock was still raging and dripping cum – she stepped over me, one black pump on either side of my chest. Under other circumstances it would have been a hugely pleasurable view, looking up at her already-excited pussy, the lips protruding and already soaking wet with arousal.
"I think he's starting to come around," I heard her say. "You really knocked him out, champ … but let me show you how easy I can knock him out."
With that, April knelt down, her knees on each side of my head, effectively pinning my shoulders down with her legs – as if I was in any condition to get up anyway. Before I knew it, her pussy was pressing against my nose and mouth and her hips were starting to gyrate.
"Come on, baby, time for another bout," she said. "This time it's my pussy versus your tongue, and it goes until one of us is knocked out. And you better not quit, or I'll get the champ to hang you back up in the corner and give you another beating."
April started grinding on my face harder and harder, and I wasn't anxious to feel Duke's gloves any more, so my tongue went to work as much as it could given my bloody mouth and likely broken jaw. I could taste April's strong juices, and even with my body beaten so badly I could still feel the stirrings in my crotch as my cock got hard and strained against my sweat-soaked trunks.
Duke stepped around, almost straddling April's knees and my head, and even past April's bouncing tits I could see up to where Duke's cock was at full erection, and saw April begin tonguing his shaft while still riding my tongue. Soon she had his cock deep in her mouth, and I could see her head start to go back and forth … and banging in and out even harder when Duke put his gloves behind her head and into her blonde hair and started thrusting himself into her.
But even that distraction didn't stop her from pussy-pounding my face, and even though I was about to pass out again I could feel my cock explode with cum quickly filling my trunks. April felt my body shudder, and for a second her mouth released its hold on Duke's hard member and she looked down at the part of my face that wasn't buried in her pussy.
"Poor baby," she said, "knocked out for the second time tonight. Time for you to go out … again."
That's when her pelvic thrusts hit high gear, and I heard her squeal at Duke just before I passed out again, "I'm warmed up and ready for that big cock now, champ."

END

APRIL'S OFFER – PART SIX
Marco was already in the ring, bouncing around and loosening up, when I got there. I'd never seen him, but I'd heard all the "scouting reports" from people who had seen him in the gym and seen him against Duke. And it only took one look to know that I was in for a battle.
I wasn't going to have any trouble finding him … he was probably eight inches taller than me and 70 pounds heavier, with a huge chest that tapered down to a narrow waist. And his gaudy red-and-green trunks, looking like a shiny Italian flag, fit tight enough to show all his assets to the women on hand. It's no wonder April melted when she saw him, I thought.
He eyed me from the time I slipped through the ropes all the way through the referee calling us to mid-ring and going over the rules. Again, the only non-traditional rule was that there were no judges, and the bout would continue until one man was knocked out. If either one decided to quit, the other had the option to continue until he recorded a knockout.
"So you're the guy responsible for what happened to Gina," he hissed after the ref finished.
"Actually, that was her," I said, nodding to ringside where I knew April had taken her spot. "All I did was watch."
Marco looked at April with hatred in his eyes … but suddenly he looked around at me, and was laughing.
"This is perfect, little man," he said. "I get to beat you up in front of all your friends, and in front of her, and then she and I will go and straighten some things out. I get the best of all worlds – she gets what she deserves … and you get a beating and I'm going to have fun giving it to you."
I happened to glance down, and saw those red-and-green trunks stretched tight in the crotch. He was obviously excited about the possibilities, and with neither of us encumbered by groin protection – April had insisted on that from both of us – I could see what had to be a huge cock straining against the satin fabric.
At that point, he pounded his gloves together with a laugh, and backed up toward his corner, still with a big grin. Maybe he saw me glance at his crotch, because he never turned his back, perhaps showing his endowment off to me, April and everyone else in attendance. Any plan I had to get him off his game was pretty much gone, along with hopes that he would be distracted. I'll just have to outbox him, was my only thought.
"DING …. DING!"
If I'd ever come out cautious in my life, this was the time … staying away from the power that Marco obviously had seemed to be a plan, and wait for him to make mistakes. With everything that had happened in the last 24 hours, the hope was he'd be overanxious … and sure enough, he was.
Marco came right at me, disdaining any jabs, and head-hunted with a big left hook and a follow-up right before I even got to mid-ring. I had hoped for that and easily ducked under – him being so much taller made that a LOT easier – and his entire body was wide open. My left uppercut under his rib cage and a hard right to his left side both landed solid, and I could feel the air on my back as it rushed out around his mouthpiece as he made an "ooofffhhh" noise.
I hit him a couple more times, right on the waistband of those tight trunks – he was still rock-hard, his trunks tenting out noticeably – before I quickly stepped back out of his range. I had a little smile on my face, trying to intimidate him a little, but after he took a big breath, so did he.
"So, the little man wants to fight, huh?," he said as he took his wide boxing stance. "She must've made a lot of promises to you."
"More what you did to her, asshole," I replied while throwing a couple of jabs that bounced off his gloves. I figured trying to go inside was only a once-in-a-while thing, and staying away was my best option. Besides, I just hit him pretty good to the body and it didn't have a lot of effect.
I circled cautiously left, putting my jab into play and keeping his big right hand in view, and waited to see how Marco would react. With his wide stance, he wasn't that much taller than me, but I still had to aim high with the jab and the first few bounced off his gloves – the 8-ounce ones that looked too small for a guy that size, and ones I knew could do damage if Marco made clean contact.
He responded with a couple of jabs of his own that hit home quick – April was right when she told me he had really fast hands for a guy his size – and knocked my gloves back into my face. He leaned forward for another jab and I saw his right hand cock back slightly away from his chin, a sure sign that a right hand was on the way.
I leaned in and parried his right with my left glove, while swinging as hard as I could with a right hand straight into his solar plexus. I could hear an "unnnnnhhh" noise and felt Marco's body quiver … I'd been on the other end of a good shot to the plexus, and know they can make your whole body go numb for a moment.
If he'd been a guy my size, he might have gone down right there. Instead, he stumbled back two steps against the ropes, and I was quickly on top of him, trying to take advantage. We were right over where April was standing, leaning hard against the ring apron, and I could hear her yelling, "YES, YES…GET THAT GINNY FUCKER…PUT HIM AWAY NOW!"
By that point I was standing flat-footed and trying to chop punches with both hands at his head, watching him cover up and his eyes blink, surprised that his smaller foe was starting to punish him. He was leaning heavily against the ropes, bent over and absorbing blow after blow as I kept raining lefts and rights, figuring this was one of the few chances I'd have. Each time he'd try to grab my arms and get into a clinch, I was able to step back and keep one arm free, and I was still pounding his temple with my free hand when the bell rang to end the first round.
I almost sprinted back to my corner, smiling all the way there, and watched Marco slowly trudge his way back, his cornermen meeting him halfway and helping him the rest of the way.
My corner was toweling me off and I was breathing heavily with excitement when April came over. After everything that had happened in the last 24 hours, she wasn't going to split time between corners this time … and that was a good thing for me. Her in that white dress was plenty enough to keep my blood pumping.
"Oh, baby, that was great," she said. "Just keep beating that fucker for me."
"Gonna try," I said, "for both of us."
I was already on my feet before the bell sounded, and I was watching Marco closely. The trainers hadn't had to do much with him since he wasn't cut, and he was back to bouncing on his toes and eyeing me when the bell rang for Round 2.
This time Marco didn't fly out of his corner at me … instead, he began circling with that wide stance, his hands high and tucked in front of his face, peek-a-boo style, and waited for me to make a move. I poked out two jabs into his gloves, pushing them back into his face, and after the second I tried to follow with a right cross aimed at his chin, but Marco quickly raised his beefy left arm and stopped it cold.
WHAM … I didn't even see the right hand that crashed into my temple, but I certainly saw the stars. Marco had anticipated my right and was ready for it, and was also ready for his counter right that spun my head violently to the side and made my entire body freeze up. That was just enough time for Marco to nail me with a left hook and another right, both on the point of my chin, and the next thing I felt on my chin was the canvas.
People told me later that I went down like I'd been shot, on my side and face cuddled between my gloves.
The fight would likely have ended right there had Marco gone directly to a neutral corner and allowed the referee to begin counting. Instead, he stood over me, ignoring the referee's requests and then his shoves for at least 10 seconds before backing off. Even at that, it still took almost the full 10-count after the referee came back next to me to stagger to my feet.
I spent most of the rest of the round covering up and on the run as Marco turned into an impatient chaser, trying to end the fight with one punch and either missing or hitting my gloves that I kept high to protect my head. But eventually Marco settled down, began cutting off the ring and eventually bulled me into a corner.
I tried to protect my head and face, but that left my body vulnerable and Marco began pounding away there, rapid-fire punches. I picked most of them off with my elbows, but enough got through to push the wind out of me and almost double me over. Marco was right on top of me, my head resting against his chest and giving him even more leverage to swing his fists up and into my waistband, each one sending a new pain sensation through me.
"Time for you to go down, little man," I heard Marco taunt, just before a right uppercut sliced between my gloves and crashed right under my chin. My legs turned to jelly and I bounced off both sides of the ropes before coming to rest crumpled in the corner, face up.
Again, Marco did not back up … instead, he looked down at me with that grin still on his face.
"You pathetic little man, thinking you can beat me," he taunted. "Just give up now and I won't have to hurt you any more."
The referee finally got himself between us and was pushing Marco toward another corner when the bell sounded, and I felt arms picking me up and helping me to my corner. If we had a "no saved by the bell" rule, Marco wasn't complaining … he probably figured he'd have a little more fun the next round if the fight continued.
"Hey, HEY, snap out of it," I heard my corner crew yelling right after they plopped me on the stool. "You need to look alert or the ref's gonna stop this when he comes over here."
I could see the referee walking over, but I also saw April stepping in front of him, apparently distracting him – something she was obviously incredibly good at. He never made it to the corner the rest of the break.
A combination of ice on my neck, water squirting on my face and a view of April's stunning backside as she continued to chat up the referee helped me finally get my bearings again, but I was still a long way from being ready to box when the warning buzzer sounded for Round 3.
"Stay away from him!" was the last thing my corner yelled as I stood and looked at Marco across the ring. He was bouncing on his toes and still had that grin, and I halfway expected him to sprint across the ring when the bell rang and pick up where he'd left off.
Instead, he almost casually stepped to mid-ring, confident and cocky, and extended his arm and waved me in. I didn't bite, instead keeping my distance as he slowly stepped forward.
"Come on, little man, let's fight," he yelled as he closed the distance, but before he could throw a punch I lunged forward and grabbed him, pinning his arms and waiting until the ref broke our clinch. He took his sweet time – maybe that's what he and April were talking about … I learned not to put anything past her – before moving in between.
Again I back-pedaled, and surprisingly Marco again wasn't in a hurry. And when he finally got close, I grabbed and clinched again … and again the referee let our clinch go for a while until separating us. This time, after the break, Marco was a little quicker to move in and threw two quick jabs, but I slipped those and grabbed him a third time. Had this been a public bout, the crowd would have likely been booing, but since it was my home gym most of the people on hand knew me, and knew what I was doing. I was slowly regaining my bearings, and Marco was starting to struggle even harder to break his arms free.
By the time the referee broke us for a third time, half of the third round was over, Marco hadn't landed a punch and I had pretty much recovered. I was still backing up, but at least I was able to shoot out a few jabs that luckily caught Marco while he was stepping in each time. By now the grin was gone, and I was able to duck and slip away from a couple of wild punches at the end of the round. I breathed a big sigh of relief when the bell sounded, knowing I had dodged a big bullet and was still standing.
April almost beat me to my own corner.
"I thought you were done, champ," she said, leaning over close to my face. "Guess I should have known better."
"I thought I was done, too," I said, halfway grinning, and looking into those eyes – and into some heart-stopping cleavage – made me forget about the pain that was still lurking around my lower abs. "Thanks for keeping the ref away for a little bit."
"Don't know what you're talking about," she said. "But I'm thinking it's time you started taking it to that prick bastard."
"I'll see what I can do," I said as she turned away and slipped back through the ropes.
My corner had kept up the ice, water and massage treatment – so far there weren't any major cuts or bruises to deal with – and I felt pretty good as I stood and waited for the bell for Round 4. As I stood up, I noticed for the first time that my cock was also hard as a rock, either from April's trip to my corner or from the excitement of the bout itself. I could see its fleshy color as my sweaty trunks were already pasted to my body, and I knew everyone else in the gym could, too.
No time to worry about that, though, as Marco came out much more quickly to start the round and was moving forward with every step. I bobbed in and out, very conscious about keeping my head movement going to make it more difficult for Marco to pick up. My movement also helped me load up the jab, which I flicked out rapidly into Marco's gloves, pushing them back into his face and irritating him more than they hurt.
Marco kept stepping in, his right hand up around his face and his left hand down, and put his weight on his left foot, dipping to unleash a hook. I took a half-step back, something I was already doing regularly, and that quick move unhinged Marco's release and he hesitated knowing that his hook would either miss or come up short. That gave me the chance to bounce a lead right off his forehead and quickly shift to the right.
His hands may be quick when he punched, I thought, but at that size the rest of him isn't as quick to react, and I started shooting pin-pricking jabs at his forehead and eyes while keeping my right hand high to ward off his jabs. I could tell he was beginning to get frustrated as my jabs began punishing him, but he suddenly ducked under a jab and swung a big left hook that slammed into my right side at the waistband, Marco grunting loudly as it connected.
Had I not been turned slightly, I would have probably been headed to the canvas again, struggling to breathe. As it was, the force of the blow knocked me two steps back against the ropes, and Marco was quickly on top of me.
I kept my gloves at my temples and my elbows pinched in at my sides as Marco loaded up and threw several big punches that made big, banging "whack" sounds that echoed off the gym walls. They mostly hit my arms, not doing much damage, but I couldn't stand there and let him pound on me. I again grabbed his arms to clinch, but as I did Marco quickly thrust his head forward, the crown of his forehead banging against my eyebrow.
"Aaaawwww," I moaned as I covered by head with both gloves, and Marco shot one more right hand into my now-open gut before the referee stepped between us.
When I pulled my right glove down, I instantly saw it covered with blood, and then felt it running down my nose and the side of my face. Marco's head-butt had opened a big gash, and the ref was looking at it when the timer went off ending the round.
I was still covering the cut with my glove when I got to my corner, and by the time I sat down my guys were pressing a towel against my head, using ice to try to stop the blood and packing Vaseline into the cut all at the same time.
"It's bad," they told me. "We can probably slow the blood down, but you're really going to have to cover up and not take any more shots there."
I was trying to figure out how I was going to pull that off when April stepped into view.
"I told you he was a shit," she said, and I didn't have any response. "Maybe it's time to give him a little of his own medicine … maybe slow him down a little and buy yourself some time."
"Maybe," was all I said … but in my mind I was again thinking that April was once again my MVP – and I wasn't talking most valuable pussy. It was a hell of an idea, and one I had thought through by the time the Round 5 warning buzzer sounded. My cut was still oozing blood when the bell sounded, but if this worked my crew would have a lot more time to do something about that.
I walked out slowly, watching Marco, and he had a big grin on his face and was tapping against his own eyebrow with one glove … showing me where he was about to aim. He knew it would only take one shot to open another torrent of blood and probably keep me from fighting on, so his eyes were riveted on that spot.
I picked off his first couple of jabs, ones that pushed my right glove back into my eye – but I could still see his right arm twitch as he telegraphed a big right hand aimed at my head. When it came right behind a third jab, I quickly ducked under and swung a big left hook that landed a foot below his gaudy waistband – somewhere between the head of his cock and his balls.
It took almost a full second for the pain to register on Marco's face, but when it did a big "unnnhhhhh" shot through his lips and he crumpled to both knees, using both gloves to grab his crotch as he went into a fetal position.
When the referee stepped in, I immediately went back and leaned over the ropes in my corner, allowing my crew to continue to work on the cut above my eye. I knew I had plenty of time, since it was going to take Marco several minutes to recover from the low blow.
Marco was still curled up on the canvas a minute later when the referee came to my corner.
"OK, that's enough of that … you guys are even now," he said. "Any more head butts or low blows and I'm going to disqualify someone."
I nodded just a little, but never looked around as my corner men used more ice, more Vaseline and some butterfly stitches to close up the cut as much as possible. But I did glance over to where April was sitting, and she was also looking at me while one of her hands was massaging her own crotch. Maybe she'd been aroused by the crotch shot … after all, I knew how she had no peers when it came to pounding a cock.
I knew Marco was still down, but his moaning was starting to die down, and by the time I finally turned around he had made it back to his corner and onto his stool, and his crew was holding an ice pack against his suddenly-much-less-tight trunks.
It took several minutes before Marco stood up, doing some deep knee bends to try to get rid of the rest of the pain, and the ref went over to talk to him in the corner. A minute or so later, he gingerly walked out to mid-ring and took a boxing stance, almost inviting me to rejoin the battle.
I cautiously walked out, still covering my eye but knowing it wasn't as crucial as it had been a few minutes ago, and I also took a stance.
"You're going to pay for that, little man," Marco said loud enough to be heard around the ring. "I was going to take it easy on you … but now I'm going to hurt you and make you suffer, and then I'm going to hurt your girl friend over there."
With that, both of us stepped forward – him pissed at my shot to his cock and nuts and me angry thinking that his abuse of April may reach another level if I don't take him down. Marco began unloading big shots aimed mostly at my head, but I was able to duck under most of those looping shots, a couple of times countering with a quick left-right to his body as his penalty for missing me, before moving back out of range.
Marco was still controlling the mid-ring area, though, and started crowding forward and pushing to get inside my guard. I was able to dip down and take most of his shots on my elbows, but his shoulder shoves nudged me off balance and made it difficult to jab my way out of trouble.
Most of the round continued that way, Marco trying to bull me into the ropes and me trying to bounce jabs off his head and eyes and circle away. That became a pattern … until he feinted another low push forward and I instinctively dropped my left toward his head. Marco ripped a roundhouse right over the top that clipped me on the point of the chin, and I fell back directly on my butt near the ropes.
Stunned more than anything, I was thinking that I had to quit meeting the canvas or Marco was going to put me there permanently. I started to bounce right back up when I noticed that Marco hadn't gone to a neutral corner with the knockdown. In fact, he hadn't backed up an inch and was looming over me, gloves low.
"Get up, you little shit," he began taunting. "Get up so I can start giving you the beating of your life."
I half-scrambled, half-crawled away as I stood up and Marco gave chase, but he was overanxious and I was able to pick off the lefts and rights he aimed at my head, and I was able to connect with a couple of stiff jabs and a following right cross that hissed across his chin right at the bell to end the round. The right caused Marco to blink and shake his head slightly as he turned toward his corner.
I did the same and took a quick seat as my crew began reworking my eyebrow area. The most recent knockdown hadn't hurt, and since there were no judges the times on the canvas really didn't matter … it was all about who went down for a 10-count … and I actually felt good in the way I got in some shots at the end of the round. I felt even better when April suddenly appeared inches from my face.
"Just keep doing what you're doing," she said. "He hasn't had a lot of long fights, and you're in better shape" – her hand was rubbing against my chest as she spoke, so I was quickly in great shape. "Use those legs, stay away and wait for your chances."
I watched her slip back through the ropes, the slit on that tight white dress riding almost up to her waist – something that would have set me on fire had I not had a bull-strong giant wanting to pound me into submission and standing 20 feet away.
Marco came out quickly again to start Round 6 and established himself at mid-ring. He was settling into a pattern of moving slowly forward, and for the most part it had worked. Except for when I'd hurt him in the first round, he had put me down three times and if there had been judges he would have been well ahead on points. But for some reason I was beginning to feel comfortable and I could start picking up his patterns, almost anticipating what he was about to do.
And I also decided to try something I'd done with success before, and switched to a southpaw stance, pointing my right shoulder at Marco and making it harder for his left took to find a target and keeping his right where I could see it and anticipate it coming.
I started chopping out right-hand jabs, and they split Marco's gloves more often than not as he tried to solve my new stance. I got off first on every exchange for most of Round 6, almost every one with a right lead, one catching him square on the nose and a couple landing above his right eye. Most of his counters I either blocked with my gloves and arms or they thudded off my back as I was turned almost parallel to him and closer to him than I'd dared get earlier.
When I saw he was waiting for another jab, I dipped my right shoulder, stepped inside and picked his head up with a tight right uppercut. I followed with an arcing left hand over the top, directly into his right eye, and Marco stepped back. I followed inside again, leading with my right shoulder and dropping quick lefts into his jaw and eye. The short, tight southpaw slugging was working … I was able to smother his open attack and get in short, chopping left hands, and I could feel Marco's frustration growing.
I still did my share of stepping back and staying away, remembering the power he still had, and I kept parrying away his jabs with my right glove and stepping back from his right. I also followed over the top of a couple of those rights, and when the bell sounded ending the round I could see a trickle of blood coming from his nose and his right eyebrow was puffy.
Through six rounds, the knockdowns – other than my shot to Marco's nuts – may have been three to zero, but I still felt confident going back to my corner. For the first time, I felt like I was on nearly an equal footing with my larger adversary, a feeling that April reinforced when she came to my corner.
"You've got him questioning himself," she said. "You keep this up, and he's going to be so messed up he's not going to know what to do. Keep it up, baby … I want you to fuck him up bad."
I leaned back against the corner pad to get my breathing under control, but I could see across the ring that Marco was also breathing hard. Maybe April was right, and that he was wearing down some.
That was reinforced in the seventh round, when I stuck with the southpaw stance and Marco kept missing with some big shots and looking to find other openings he could exploit. But he had changed one thing … I wasn't having nearly as much success with the right-hand lead that was peppering his nose and eyes. They mostly hissed off his gloves, but for most of the round I was still setting the pace and was getting through with a few jabs. That was before one that grazed off a sweat-covered glove and I had pulled it back quickly to block what I thought was going to be a left hook.
Instead, Marco was one step ahead, feinting that hook before pivoting and slamming a right cross into my solar plexus, which was pointed directly at his right in my southpaw look. It was the same punch I'd caught him with in the first round, and it felt like it was going through me. I bent over with the impact and grabbed his right arm and around his waist as he clubbed my head with his free left hand.
Suddenly he backed off and started walking toward his corner. I hadn't even heard the bell that ended the round, and I walked slowly to my corner while holding my abdomen with one hand. I looked across and saw Marco smiling again, but the rest of the time between rounds I spent arching my back, looking up at the ceiling and trying to stretch my abdominal muscles to relieve the pain while my corner worked everywhere else.
I must have had a pained expression on my face, because I saw concern on April's face when she walked over.
"I'm sorry I got you into this," she said. "I had no right to … I just thought that … that…"
"That I could beat him?" I finished for her, and then tried to sound as confident as I could. "Well, good thing for you that I can … just going to take me a little while here."
That at least got rid of the frown, and she straddled my knee and sat down, leaning close to the side of my head.
"I want you inside me so bad," she whispered as she lightly stroked my chest with one hand. "I'd pin you to the canvas and fuck you right here if it would help you beat this asshole."
"You're helping already," I whispered back.
"I know he's hurt you some, but try to remember the prize," she said. "It'll be worth it when this is all over."
I resisted the urge to start fondling her with my gloves, knowing my erection was already going to be obvious enough. April stood up and made her way back through the ropes, but her eyes never left mine and I was still looking over at her when the bell for Round 8 sounded.
By that time, Marco was halfway across the ring and still coming, trying to pick up where he'd left off and try again to open the big cut above my eye. But again he was too overanxious and I dodged to the left as he missed with a big right hand that whistled through the air. I planted my right foot and launched a quick left hook over the top that surprised him, crashing into his swollen right eyelid. Blood spurt out almost instantly, making a line across my white glove and sending a steady trickle down his face.
Marco felt the blood and instinctively covered up, keeping his right glove up high and near his temple to try to prevent further damage, while shooting out straight left jabs in an effort to continue his momentum. I stepped back, both to avoid his lefts and to assess the damage – and figure out how to do more, now that he was cut.
I had already decided to go back right-handed instead of southpaw, mostly to prevent a repeat of another big right hand abusing my body. But that was more important now, and I started pistoning left jabs to Marco's head and backing away after each. And the sight of his blood – and knowing he had to keep his right hand high and it wouldn't be nearly as dangerous – gave me a rush of energy.
I kept the jabs working, but I was also stepping in and chipping away with overhand right crosses that laced across Marco's left cheek and jaw whenever he shot out a left hand. For the first time since the first round, Marco was taking cautious steps backwards and he was shaking his head each time I landed a right hand.
The individual punches weren't enough to hurt him, but the accumulation was starting to take a toll … a crack in his armor as he lashed out and missed with a couple of big shots, and I made him pay for that with quick left-right combos.
Soon I was standing flat-footed and was chopping punches with both hands at his head, watching his eyes blink constantly. I was punishing him, and I was as surprised as he was as he backed up and wound up with his back against a corner pad.
I could feel April pounding on the ring apron and hear her yelling, "Get that fucker, baby…get him, get him!"
Marco swung wildly with a left hook, but I saw it coming and leaned back at it sailed by, and when I leaned back in Marco was off balance and leaning forward. A quick left hook pounded again over his right eye, sending blood flying again, and a right hand clipped him perfectly across the chin as he went crashing down on all fours at my feet.
Son of a bitch, I thought … knocked the big fucker down, and now it was my turn to stand close and watch him. I was watching the blood steadily dripping from his face when the bell ended Round 8, and I walked backwards to my corner while I watched him use the ropes to pull himself up and his crew help him back to his corner.
I also noticed – and I'm sure April noticed, too, since she almost ran to my corner – that my cock was rock-hard and was showing hugely against my sweat-drenched trunks.
I also realized I was dead tired, and I was holding my arms at my sides, shaking them, and my cornermen were kneading my shoulders hard. April also started kneading my biceps as she kneeled in front of me, giving me a lovely view down that white dress that didn't do anything to get rid of the untimely erection.
"Hope you save some of that," April said as she first looked down at my crotch and then up at my face. "Just keep it up … the boxing, I mean … and stay smart and you've got this fucker."
I was already standing before the warning buzzer and so was Marco, and he walked out slowly but under control. I decided to try to confuse him more and went back southpaw so I could more easily step inside, and I was able to split his gloves with the first two rights I threw. Whether it was luck or fate, Marco shifted his head just when I threw the first right, and it crashed directly into his nose, smashing it flat, sweat flying and sending blood out of both nostrils.
As he shifted away, my second right went straight into his right eyelid, hissing across the skin, and the flow of blood there began anew, rolling down heavy into his eye.
Marco again brought his right hand up high, both as a defense and to use the thumb to clear the blood, but that only added to his vision problems. I started jerking right uppercuts off his chest and chin and following with slicing left hands that tore at a face that was starting to swell along with the blood. I was hurting him and he knew it, and he started backing up … but I kept the distance between us the same and continued a two-handed assault with tightly-grouped punches.
I could almost feel my energy level growing, and could feel the energy flowing out of him. For the first time, I felt like I could take him out, and that he knew that.
We were at mid-ring when I slipped his jab, and his follow right hand to my body hit home but didn't have much on it. I turned back to an orthodox stance and was able to body up and muscle his bulk to the ropes as we clinched.
Once there, I pushed off slightly and dug two left hooks deep into his right side – an open area since had to keep his right hand high to protect his eye and nose. I felt them sink in … and for some reason I had visions of the first time I saw April and how she sunk her gloves into the heavy bag on the other side of the gym. She would enjoy digging her fists into Marco like this…
I shifted my weight and was digging right hands into his body, and could feel the ab muscles caving in.
"Little man's beating the fuck out of you," I hissed at Marco as another right hand pounded in and I felt air rush out of his lips. The hardness of his body was almost gone … just like it was well below his waistband. "You're just a big pussy," I said, "and I really like to fuck pussies."
Marco tried to huddle forward, but a big uppercut under his chin took care of that and I was able to push him upward with my left arm under his and open up his body again. I was almost holding him in place with my left and punching with my right, mostly around that waistband and a couple just a little bit under, just so I could feel his body shudder. I knew the ref wasn't going to say or do anything at this point.
It was almost an erotic sensation … my left hand uppercutting him under his rib cage and feeling the convulsion on his insides when they hit home. One last one drew a retching sound from him, and he dropped his right hand to cover his black-and-blue belly. I hit him with a hard right hand under his chin, raising it up and making that eye and nose a wide-open target, and my left hook pounded into his face just at the bell rang.
Marco was sitting heavily on the ropes, his eyes not focused, and didn't move until his cornermen got there. Before they did, I leaned in close.
"Don't even think about quitting," I whispered to him. "I want you to come back out here so I can fuck you up the way you tried to fuck April up. I'll come to your corner and beat you senseless on your stool if I have to."
I backed up and went to my corner, where my crew was all smiles and April was already close by. While the cornermen rubbed my shoulders and toweled me off, April straddled my legs and sat down … and she didn't care who was watching.
"God, I want your cock so bad right now," she said as she ground her hips. "I am going to rock your fucking world right here as soon as you take this asshole out. Cut him up some more for me, baby."
It was then that she grabbed one of my gloves, and that's when I noticed how much blood – Marco's blood – was on them. She quickly licked it once, and it was wet enough where I could see a streak of her saliva.
"Hit him with this one first," she said, still holding my right glove, "right in the fucking face."
She was still astride me when the buzzer went off, and both of us quickly got to our feet and she scrambled out of the ring. That's when I first looked across at Marco, who was still on his stool, leaning back against the corner with his eyes closed. I thought for a moment that it was over, and that he wasn't going to get up, but when the bell rang he slowly rose and took a stance after taking a couple of steps forward.
OK, so he wasn't a quitter, so he had one redeemable quality … but that wasn't going to stop me from finishing him off. I walked quickly to him and saw his face was a mess … the cut over his eye was still oozing blood and was hugely swollen, and his corner hadn't been able to stop the blood from his nose. It would have been an easy target, and my first two right hands were sent just like April had asked … into his face, so her saliva was pounded into one of those hurts.
I already knew his face was messed up enough that his acting appearances would be curtailed for a while, but I wanted his body to hurt, too … maybe even more, because that's where he would remember, down deep in his gut, that my fists had hurt him. But instead of working the front and at the waistband where he was already bruised and red, I started pounding back behind the elbows that he had tucked in tight across his front, hammering at the ribs and the liver. Sweat was pouring off me as I kept tensing and throwing punches, leaning into them with everything I had left. My gloves pounded and bounced off as Marco sat on the ropes, legs trembling and ready to go.
Now I know how April felt when she watched this, I thought … she had said how hot she got when one man took control over the other and beat on him, and now I felt that way. I was almost hoping he would never go down, so I could keep punching him, but one of my left hands dug between his hip and lower ribs and made him lurch to the side, grabbing the ropes on his way to the canvas.
If it had been a fighter I respected, I would have backed off and let him go down. But after what he'd done … I couldn't resist one last straight right into his wide-open face, the blood spurting as he dropped to his side and rolled onto his back.
The ref finally pulled me away and went through the formality of counting to 10, but his corner crew and mine were both in the ring before he finished counting. Marco's guys didn't even stop at his corner … instead, one guy got under each arm and walked him through the ropes, out of the ring and out the gym door where I assume a car was waiting.
That was just as well, because the rest of the gym was celebrating. I was ready to celebrate, too … except that I was tired to the bone and could barely lift either arm, having thrown so many punches over the last three rounds. I kept having people congratulate me, but it was all pretty much a blur until I bumped into Duke right after I made my way through the ropes and down the steps.
He actually had a smile on his face, and when he grinned I could see the wires in his mouth that were holding his broken jaw together.
"Looks like the two of us are going to have another fight," he said.
"Guess so," was all I could muster at that point. "Going to be a while before either one of us is ready for that, I guess."
"I'll be ready," he said, the grin now gone, and he walked away, yelling over his shoulder, "same prize as before."
April … where the hell was she? After what she'd said in between the last couple of rounds, I figured she wouldn't let me out of her sight. And I wanted badly to see the sight of her, more than anything right now.
I walked back with my cornermen toward the locker rooms, and I saw that the "Challenger" sign had already been switched to "Champion." But on that sign there was a handwritten scrawl at the bottom that read, "Everyone else STAY OUT!"
"Guess we better do what she says, guys," I said to my crew. "Thanks …" before they walked away and I opened the locker room door.
Sure enough, April was there, on the training room table, naked and in all her splendor. Her body shone so much that she must have oiled herself up, with the light directly over the table making her look more like a bronze goddess. And I couldn't help but notice, since she had one leg cocked up on the table, the beads of her juices surrounding her hugely-wet pussy, reflecting that light.
I walked to the table, and she quickly stood and jerked my sweat-drenched trunks down to my ankles. And as I stepped out of them, she turned me around and pushed me onto the table in a sitting position … where she quickly joined me.
"You're about to get fucked like you never have in your life," she said as she slid her knees on both sides of my body and began pushing against my incredibly-hard cock. "Before I'm finished, you're going to be screaming for me to stop, but I'm not going to."
She quickly thrust her hips forward, and my cock popped into her wetness so quickly that I let out a moan that could be heard in the gym.
"And I'm going to keep you so hard …" she said as she began riding me. "You just don't pass out on me."
"Not a chance," I said, my gloves grabbing hard on her ass as she started thrusting. Even with the leather still on my fists, I could feel the contrast – the softness of her stunning butt and the forcefulness in the way she pounded her pussy onto my rock-hard pole.
I was still covered with sweat and a mixture of my blood and Marco's, his coming as the product of me punching him over the last few rounds. But that was nothing like the beating that my dick was taking. I already knew April was pretty intense when it came to lovemaking, but I had never seen her quite like this. It was like she was in a trance, such was her concentration. She was so physical and forceful, making sure it was her that was doing the fucking, and I wasn't complaining.
April may have had her eyes closed, but I was getting an eyeful. She was biting her lip in pleasure, and her stunning and perfect breasts were bouncing so sexily with each thrust. If my cock hadn't already been up in her mound, just the sight of her gyrations would have been enough to get me stiff and make me forget about the war I'd just been through.
Her crotch was soaking wet … and I was rapidly joining her in wetness.
"Cum up in me, champ," April almost moaned. "The champ is going to cum over and over, and I'm going to make you keep cumming."
She was right. I had already shot off into her, and after a fight like I just had and one intense orgasm I would normally have been flaccid and done. But being with April again, seeing her stunning self and feeling her on top of me, I knew I could go all night. And even better, I knew that as soon as her attack on my cock slowed down, I still had plenty left to turn the tables on that training table … roll her over and do some pounding of my own into her.
But right then, there wasn't any letup in sight. April was insane with pleasure as she rhythmically slid her clit up and down on me, plunging herself deep on my member. Her hair was flying and she tilted her head back, looking up at the ceiling as she kept grinding.
"Ohhhhhhhh," I moaned as my cum spurted up into her again as she induced another orgasm from me. "God, you are so incredible."
"I'm just getting started," April said. "You're going the full 12 rounds here, and there won't be a referee around to stop the bout if you start going down."
I felt the muscles inside her pussy, working my cock, milking me. "Don't think that's going to happen," was all I could say. Damned if she wasn't right … she really could keep me hard.

++++++

Nobody in the gym ever saw Marco around there again. A couple of people told me they saw him in the middle of a movie set that blocked off some streets a week after our right, and he didn't look any the worse for wear. Movie makeup can hide a lot, was the first thing I thought.
I did see Duke fairly regularly at the gym, though. He was there working out, his jaw starting to heal but still not enough to do any work in the ring. But I knew it wouldn't be long before we'd have to rumble again with the sexiest boxing fan ever as the prize once again.
April was also frequenting the gym fairly regularly, checking out all the talent in the rings (just watching the fighters made her wet) and keeping that incredibly taut body toned. She knew I enjoyed watching her hit the bags and going through the rest of her workout, and it never failed that we'd have incredible, passionate and intense sex right after getting home from the gym. A couple of times, we didn't even make it out of the shower before one of us was all over the other one … sucking on her tits and licking her pussy while the water from the shower ran down her body was something I could never tire of.
But I knew April was at the gym for another reason. She was making sure I stayed in fighting shape, and was monitoring Duke's recovery. As soon as Duke's jaw was fully healed and the doctor cleared him, she was going to set up another bout between us … and my win over Marco aside, I still remembered how much Duke had abused me in our last bout.
The thought of climbing back in with him again wasn't really appealing. But when it came to pairing up her fighters for her enjoyment and sexual fulfillment, April was an irresistible force. So it didn't come as a surprise when I found her picture in my gym locker one day.
She was naked, her body stunningly displayed, and she had a pair of boxing gloves tied together and tossed over her shoulder, one glove next to her lovely breast. "Next Friday night," was handwritten at the bottom of the picture, "you and Duke. Here's the prize. Fuck him up for me, baby."
All I could think about was getting ready for Friday, and how I could keep that prize for myself.

END PART SIX

APRIL'S OFFER – PART FIVE
At first glance, there wasn't anything unusual about the gym when April walked in.
It wasn't unusual for her to be there … she was there at least a couple of times a week, working out and hitting the bags to keep in shape. The regulars at the gym, boxers and non-boxers alike, always treated her with a ton of respect since she knew so much about the fight game and was friendly with so many very good fighters.
They also respected that, when she did work out, it was intense and without hesitation. They were always a little surprised and impressed that her 115-pound frame could pound a bag almost as heavy as she was and make it strain against its supports.
And, of course, they were impressed with … well, with her. The package was an impressive one, and not even the heavy sweats needed in the gym in wintertime could hide the fact that she was the most stunning thing in that or just about any gym. Impressive as her moves were on the heavy bag, that wasn't the reason that April usually drew a few gawkers on every gym trip.
The lustful looking wasn't confined to her spectators, though. On every trip to the gym, April would make sure to check out the "talent" in the gym's two rings. Mostly, it was the regular guys in there sparring, and she knew and was friendly with most of them. But she still enjoyed watching … enjoyed it more than most of them knew.
The gym was always warm and humid, and looking at the toned boxer bodies in nothing but gloves, shoes and trunks, the trunks wet with sweat and sticking like a second skin to their bodies and crotches … it made her so hot, she was many times thankful for the extra pair of loose-fitting sweats in her workout bag. She would get so wet that she'd have to hurry home and either attack her current lover or, if she was alone, finish herself off with the thumb of the boxing glove she kept handy for just such instances.
Today just figured to be a Monday workout day, though. She wasn't in need of an erotic evening. She and Duke had staged their own heavyweight battle for much of the weekend, and she had rocked his world and he'd gotten her off so many times they'd lost count of the rounds. Nope, this was an evening to wind down, break a sweat and work off some stress.
April had noticed, though, that there weren't as many boxers in the bag area of the gym, and eventually she saw a small crowd gathering around the far ring. Have to check things out when I take a break, she thought.
As she toweled off some of the sweat – even her hand wraps were soaked when she stripped off her bag gloves – and started walking over to the ring area, she saw from a distance that the fighters in the ring were both heavyweights – her favorites, if there was such a thing. As she got closer, she recognized one of them as a gym regular … a guy that Duke had fought a couple of times and had given him a whale of a match every time.
The other had his back to her … she could tell she didn't know him, but she could tell from the starched white trunks and the shiny-clean shoes that he wasn't just some guy off the streets.
About the time April got close to the ring – as usual, she was leaning on the apron near one corner – the timer went off, and the gym newcomer wheeled around and began walking toward that corner. April took one look, and almost melted on the spot.
All she saw was 6-foot-4 of heart-stopping handsomeness. Curly black hair and a chiseled face with just a hint of stubble … wide shoulders and a hairless chest that defined upper-body development, tapering to a narrow waist that fit snugly into his trunks – not those long, baggy things, either … the form-fitting ones that were cut above mid-thigh. It also wasn't hard to tell that he was "natural" under those trunks, not bothering with the groin protection that was common during sparring sessions.
April watched him, transfixed and staring, as a ring attendant handed him a towel and squirted water in his mouth. Some of it ran down his chest … and April watched every drop, wishing she could climb through the ropes and lick it off.
She saw the stranger motion over to where a woman was sitting, and she immediately came to ringside and listened as he spoke.
"Girl friend?" April asked the gym manager.
"Nah, that's his publicist," he responded. "He's been ordering her around ever since they got here."
He saw the questions in April's eyes that she wanted to ask, but didn't.
"He's an actor … apparently a famous one back in Italy," he told her without being asked. "He's over here doing one of those summer action movies. Supposedly he was a fighter before he got into acting."
While the manager was filling April in on the newcomer, the timer went off and the two fighters went back to their sparring. And it took April – as knowledgeable a judge of boxers' abilities as anyone, after seeing them for so long – less than a minute to determine that he was no novice … that he could handle himself well in the ring. God, he looks like that, and can FIGHT, too, April thought … I have to get to know this one.
Her chance came quickly. The Italian and the local fighter had been clinching at mid-ring when the newcomer suddenly ripped an uppercut straight through his opponent's defenses, popping his head up. A sharp left hook was quickly followed by a brutal overhand right, and the local went down like he'd been shot, out cold.
"YES!," April screamed, not able to help herself. A couple of people in the gym glanced her way, but she didn't care. She just watched this gorgeous Adonis standing in the ring, waiting to see if his sparring mate would get up, and she grabbed a towel and a water bottle and stepped onto the apron in his corner.
The Italian fighter walked toward his corner and saw April waiting outside the ropes. He hesitated for a moment as he pulled off his gloves, then smiled once he got a good look (again, she had that effect on most males) and took the towel and the bottle.
"Thank you," he said.
"No problem, champ," April said back.
"I'm a long way from champ right now," he said. "Just starting to get back into this … I've been so busy with work that I haven't had a lot of time to box. But I felt like I needed to stay sharp."
Any sharper and I'd be jumping your bones right here, April thought, but she stayed cool.
"The way you took care of that guy, I'd say champ was a pretty good description," she said.
The conversation eventually moved away from the ring and went on for nearly a half-hour in the back of the gym, even though the angry-looking Italian woman kept watching them with daggers for eyeballs. One thing April found out during the conversation, though, is that there was nothing sexual between Marco (she got his name very soon) and Gina … it was strictly business. She was his publicist and de facto guardian from the public and overly enthusiastic female fans … part of the reason that she kept a wary eye on April.
April also learned that he had spent most of his young life splitting time between Italy and the U.S., with his parents working in both countries. That's why, although he was born in Italy, he spoke fluent English and was as familiar with the U.S. as most natives.
She learned that, during his stints in his native country, he won a national amateur heavyweight title in Italy, and most of his early movies filmed in Italy were roles that displayed his physical talents before he began being accepted as a legitimate actor.
She also learned that he was in the middle of filming an action epic right there in town, and in fact was almost finished with his role. The movie makers were only filling in missing parts, and although he had to stay "on call" in case his services were needed, most of his time was free. That's why he was anxious to get back in the gym.
"I need to get back in fighting shape," he told her, and fortunately he couldn't see the shudder that went through April's body.
"Your shape looks plenty good to me," she said, and flashed him that look that sends most males to their knees. And she thought he saw a similar look in his dark eyes.
"So what brings you to an old smelly gym like this?" he asked. "Don't take this wrong, but you look like you'd belong in those high-class gyms with the personal trainers ogling over you … not that I'd blame them. Of course, the hand wraps sort of fit for in here…"
Marco took one of her hands and started undoing the wrap that April still had on from her bag workout. Her crotch was already soaking wet before he got halfway through … and, she thought, if you want to unwrap anything else …
"You wrapped them yourself?" he asked. "I'm impressed … this is a professional job."
"This isn't my first visit here," she feigned sarcasm, and was thrilled when he broke into a grin. "I just love boxing ... watching two warriors go into battle with their fists, one of them putting the other one down and proving who is the better man …"
"And I loved watching you in there!"
"I loved getting the chance to talk to you," he responded, just at the time his publicist finally walked over. April only then realized how tall she was – 5-foot-11 at least, and almost as tall as Marco in her high, high heels.
"We're going to be late," she curtly said. "We have to leave now."
"I have to be at the studio in a while," Marco told April. "They're doing some outdoor night scenes and I have to be there just in case … "
"Will I see you again here?"
"Count on it," April said.
You're going to see a lot of me, she thought as Marco and Gina walked out. I'm going to set you up for a fight, and right now you have no idea how great the winner's prize will be. But I'm betting you'll find out.
Marco did turn and wave as they went outside. YES, April thought … God, he and Duke in the same ring. She had to run to the ladies room, not wanting the gym regulars to hear her moans and see her shudders as the mental picture alone gave her a thunderous orgasm.
Ohhhh, this is going to be sooooo good ….

++++++

Duke hadn't had a fight in at least a couple of months, and the ones he'd had recently weren't that competitive. He was also running out of opponents that he hadn't already fought too many times … and he knew how hot April got watching him fight. So he jumped at the opportunity when April told him she'd found a potential opponent … a new face at the gym.
He didn't really want to know who the opponent was, such was his desire for a fight. And it wasn't like Duke was going to change his boxing style … that was pretty much set, and it had been successful a lot more often than not.
"Set it up," he told her. "I figure it's past time for you to have a little eye candy."
"It's not my eyes that are hot right now," she said as she jumped into his burly arms. "And as for candy … well, let's see if we can find you something to chew on in the bedroom."

++++++

It took a little doing to convince Marco to get into the ring for a true fight … he figured he hadn't done the real thing, a real bout, in so long that he wouldn't be ready for it. And if something happened to him, if he got hurt, the movie people would be up in arms.
His hesitance went away when April told him she would help take care of the details, and then explained the ground rules … most notably, the spoils that would go to the winner.
"I go home with whoever wins, my champion," she said as Marco looked at her with a combination of wonderment and lust in his eyes. "I'm the prize for winning. The only way you can have me is by beating him. That should keep both of you guys motivated … and I'll tell you right up front, I don't play favorites. I will just melt watching you boys fight it out, knowing that the winner will be mine."
"Well, I guess I'll have to beat this Duke up," Marco finally said.
April was again flushed with excitement at the thought of the fight. "Friday night OK? I'll make all the arrangements. You just be here plenty early … I'll have to check you out before the fight, make sure you're ready."

++++++

Word had spread quickly about the Friday night bout, and a lot of the gym regulars were planning on being there. There was also a rumor that some of Marco's fellow actors and actresses along with crew members were going to attend, so April had asked the gym manager to pull out some of the folding chairs.
She'd made all the other arrangements, but her week crawled by as she waited for Friday night. Just thinking about it kept her horny, and even riding Duke's bulging member – one of the main reasons he said yes to the fight was knowing how it would drive her nuts, and she in return would do wonders for his nuts – didn't dampen her desire for Friday to arrive.
She was also calling and texting Marco on a regular basis, mostly leaving messages since he often had his phone off on set, and she was certain that Gina was probably screening the rest of his calls. She didn't care for that – as long as he was at the gym on Friday, that was the most important thing – but leaving the messages was still exciting for her.
"Ready, champ," she texted. "Fight hard for me."
"Better be ready," another said. "Duke will."
"Remember what you're fighting for," in another. "I want you to be rock-hard for this."
April didn't know if Marco got any of those messages, but she got enough responses to know that he'd be there plenty early on Friday. That was good, she thought, because she planned on getting him very warmed up for the fight….

++++++

Friday finally came for everyone, and April was there plenty early to make sure everything was in place. It wasn't like some of her recent visits to the gym for such bouts … this one wasn't a private affair. There would be people around, both fighters would have friends serving as cornermen and cutmen in their corners, and April had also gotten a friend to referee. No judges, though … this one would only end by a knockout.
But she still had things to do … mostly making sure the locker rooms were set up. She had to make sure each fighter had his own private area that only they – and she – had access to, and she had to mark them as she always had. One sign read "Champion," the other "Challenger." Just taping the signs to the doors gave her shivers, and she could already feel that familiar heat building between her legs.
She was in the "Champion" locker room when Duke walked in. April saw him, of course, almost every day, but she always looked at him differently whenever he was about to step into the ring. She would see his classic Irish features and muscled body, especially when he was stripped down to his trunks, and it never failed to excite her. And tonight, with two absolute hunks going at it … well, as the song goes, she couldn't stand the wait.
"Hi, champ," she almost purred.
Duke went about the business of changing into his fighting gear while April gathered wraps, tape and the 10-ounce gloves. In a moment, Duke was sitting on the training table with only his trunks on, figuring April was about to wrap and tape his hands, but instead she sat the wraps beside him on the table and stood between his knees. She slowly began rubbing her hands up and down Duke's black satin Everlast trunks, and she was sure he noticed she was wearing one of the tiniest black dresses possible to match his colors for the night.
As she wanted, Duke was "natural" under his trunks, and whether he wanted to or not – being this close before a fight – she could see his manhood swelling to the huge rod that she craved.
"Want me to help you … relax, champ?" April asked, already knowing the answer as she worked her hands higher up the trunks. Duke might have been a half-hour before his fight, but he was still a red-blooded male, and few males stood a chance at resisting when April wanted them.
She began caressing his cock through the trunks, and quickly the caress turned into a fist pump as April began a rough hand job, jerking cock and trunks with one hand while alternating between squeezing and releasing his balls with the other. Duke just laid back on the table and enjoyed being milked.
Now with a throbbing crotch and needing Duke inside her badly and immediately, April grabbed the Everlast band and jerked Duke's trunks down to his ankles, ripped off her own soaking-wet panties and jumped on the table, straddling Duke's waist with her knees. She began rubbing her pussy hard against his huge member until she screamed in an orgasm, and then took him inside her and roughly fucked him.
"Saving your energy, champ?," she said breathlessly. "No problem … I'll do all the work … We'll see if we can get you nice and warmed up for the fight."
Duke came quickly and thunderously, and April felt his warm cum shooting up into her and sending her into another shuddering orgasm before collapsing on top of the heavily-breathing Duke.
"Oh my god, you turn me on so much," April said after a few minutes, and both smiled before she rolled off him and quickly gathered herself. Duke's cornermen were going to come in and glove him up just before he went to the ring.
"Time for me to go and get your opponent ready," she said.
"I hope you're not getting him ready the same way," Duke laughed.
April laughed, too, and walked out … we'll see, she thought to herself.
The "Challenger" door was across the hall – good thing, April thought, nobody could hear anything from the last few minutes. She knocked lightly.
"Come in," she heard Marco's voice answer, and she walked in … and got weak in the knees again.
Marco was sitting naked on his training table, one leg hiked up, that massive bronze chest and narrow waist covered with a thin sheen of sweat that made his skin shine in the stark lights of the dressing room. He had pushed the table over next to a wall to leave an open area in the middle of the room, and a sweat suit was next to him on the table. He'd obviously already been getting loose in the dressing room in those sweats, and was in the process of changing into trunks when April came in. Or, maybe, he was naked knowing that she would soon arrive …
"Been waiting for you, beautiful," he said, and April quickly closed the door.
"Mmmmm, you do look nice and warmed up," she said as she reached for the wraps and tape that she'd put on the table earlier. But before she reached the wraps, Marco grabbed her arm and pulled her to him.
"No hurry on that … they'll wait," he said, and she noticed his cock starting to swell.
"I guess they will," April said as she stepped close. "Let's see how warmed up you really are."
She brushed her hand against his rod and was pleased when it swelled to even greater proportions, and April was just starting to pump his brick-hard member when he put both hands on her shoulders and forcefully pushed her to her knees. He then grabbed the back of her head with both hands and pulled it into his crotch, forcing his cock down her throat and quickly beginning to thrust in and out.
April enjoyed a blow job more than most, but she preferred to take her sweet time before devouring her partner. This was a little too quick and a little too rough, and she almost gagged before she was able to match his rhythm and control her head moving in and out on his shaft. Damn, she thought, this guy's really hung … if he'd be a little patient, I'd do things to him he's only dreamed about.
But instead of a slow, pleasurable increase in tempo, Marco was already at ninety miles an hour, and he quickly let loose a huge stream of milky-white hot cum down April's throat. Almost as quickly, he withdrew, almost shoved her away, sat for a minute to catch his breath, and then began dressing for the bout.
April was concerned at first, but assumed Marco's actions were just because of the bout he had coming in only a few minutes. Surely someone who looked like that – she was again admiring his broad hairless chest and monstrous pecs, and the way he tapered down to a thin waist – was destined to be a first-class lover. If he's not now, she thought, he will be by the time I teach him a few things.
Instead of saying anything, she again grabbed the wraps and tape, and this time he offered out his hands as she stood close and expertly readied his hands. He watched her work closely, and thought she saw a nod of approval when he punched each hand into his other palm. She was in the process of putting on the white 10-ounce gloves – both fighters would be wearing the white Everlasts, which matched Marco's tightly-starched white satin trunks – when Gina strode in without knocking.
"What's this little bimbo doing in here?," Gina said. "Aren't you supposed to be getting ready for this … fight?"
"She's helping me get ready," Marco abruptly cut her off before April could say anything.
"I bet she is," Gina shot back, and the two girls glared at each other for a few seconds before April went back to lacing up Marco's gloves, and Gina walked over and put a hand on Marco's shoulder. "You need to be careful around people like … her, these hangers-on that only want something from you."
"I already had a little something from him," April hissed through clenched teeth, "not that it's any of your business."
"I'll make it my business," Gina said as she quickly walked out the door. "You just stay the fuck away from him when this crazy idea is over."
Not on your life, sister, April thought. If he wins, I'll be with him whether you like it or not.
She took Marco's white robe – a little ostentatious for the gym, maybe, but damn he looked good in white – and draped it over his shoulders. "God, what a bitch," she finally said while pulling the robe around him.
"Yes, she is," Marco said. "But she's good at what she does for me."
"As good as me?," April said with a laugh, but Marco had already turned around and was headed for the door.

++++++

There wasn't as big a crowd as the gym held for their regular "smokers," the occasional Friday events where they had several bouts. But quite a few people were there just out of curiosity, and there was a murmur when Marco walked out and climbed through the ropes. He was bobbing up and down and rolling his shoulders under his robe to stay loose when Duke walked out, and several in the crowd cheered the local fighter until he also went up the stairs and into the ring before also bouncing to stay loose.
April followed Duke into the arena, behind his corner crew, and took her accustomed seat in the red corner near the champion – nothing in front of her but the ring apron, which is where she usually wound up, rubbing herself against the canvas while she screamed for the fighters.
The referee April had arranged for called Duke and Marco to mid-ring and went through the rules. The only non-traditional rule was that there were no judges, and the bout would continue until one man was knocked out. If either one decided to quit, the other had the option to continue until he recorded the knockout.
The two both turned their backs and went to their corners, where they got a final word from their cornermen and Marco shed his robe at the warning buzzer. Most of the small number of females in the crowd let out a soft moan when they saw Marco's sculpted body … and saw that his white trunks were bulging with nearly a foot of flesh tone. April only smiled …
"DING, DING, DING," the timekeeper sounded the bell for Round 1.
Duke and Marco both came out cautious and slowly circled one another – their size alone taking up a good portion of the middle of the ring – and were in the "feeling-out" process when Duke poked out a left jab for the first punch of the fight. Almost instantaneously, the left side of Duke's face was covered in a white flash as Marco's right hand flew over the jab and caught Duke flush.
It didn't hurt, but it stung … and Duke and everyone else in the gym was surprised at the speed of Marco's punch. Duke blinked a couple of times and reset in his stance, while Marco grinned around his mouthpiece and used his glove to wave his opponent back in.
Duke didn't bite … even when Marco goaded him. "Come on in," he said, "it'll only hurt for a little while." Instead, Duke remained cool, the picture of efficiency as he slowly controlled the middle and cut off the ring. At the same time, he began popping out the jab – more carefully now after he ate Marco's counter earlier – with a couple splitting Marco's gloves and the other pushing those gloves back into his face.
But Marco was patient, too, and with his wide stance – his front and back feet at least a yard apart – he was able to bob and weave without either advancing or retreating. Except for flicking out his left hand on occasion, the only punch he'd thrown was the right-hand counter, and he looked content to wait for Duke to make a move.
He didn't have to wait long. Duke bounced a jab off Marco's gloves and followed up with a quick two-punch combo, catching him on the jaw with a solid right cross and pivoting his body before popping a left uppercut to Marco's right side. Both landed solidly – solid enough to hurt most fighters that Duke had been in the ring with – but Marco only gave a little "unhhh … ooofff" when the two punches hissed across his skin.
Those two shots seemed to break the ice, because the last minute and a half of the first round was a war … both fighters unloading on each other, pounding away at heads, chins, chests and stomachs with a ferocity that had all of the onlookers either shocked or screaming.
April was, obviously, in the latter group as she leaned hard against the ring apron and grabbed the bottom rope, appearing to almost pull herself inside the ring. "HIT HIM," April screamed, with both fighters likely thinking she was yelling at him. "HIT THAT FUCKER … MAKE HIM BLEED!"
Both were doing their best to oblige. Duke got tagged with another huge right hand that made his knees wobble at one point, but he came right back and popped Marco with a straight right hand that crunched into his face and followed up by digging two left hooks under Marco's rib cage that bent the Italian in half. Marco was clutching Duke around his waist to avoid any further punishment when the bell sounded, and he was already wiping blood from under his nostrils as he went back to his corner, where his cornermen went to work.
By that time, April had made her way through the ropes and walked to Marco's corner, leaning over close and squeezing his thigh with one hand – making sure to pull the material of his satin trunks tight to show a perfect outline of that rigid cock. Her impressive cleavage dangled in front of Marco's face, helping make sure his manhood would continue to fill those trunks.
"Just like riding a bike … see, you didn't forget how to fight," she said, and got back a small grin. "Remembered how to get hit, too," he said.
"Just keep going at him hard," April almost whispered, and couldn't help but look at his crotch when she said "hard," before turning and walking to the other corner … slowly and flauntingly, to give Marco a good look as he watched her stride away and eventually bend over in front of Duke.
"Getting warmed up now?," she said to him. "I know I am …" She already saw some redness over Duke's left eye, courtesy of Marco's right glove.
Duke only smiled and winked.
"You had him going at the end," she said. "Keep drilling those hooks to the body … don't think he likes those very much."
She high-heeled out of the ring as the warning buzzer sounded and the big men rose for Round 2. When the bell sounded, both came out quickly again, but more under control than the latter stages of the first round. Duke jabbed hard at Marco's head and quickly tried to step inside to follow up on his early success, but Marco effectively wrapped him up as the two leaned against the ropes, straining for punching room.
"You think you HURT me last round?," Marco hissed around his mouthpiece. "Hope that wasn't the best you have, or this isn't going to last very long."
"You're right about it not lasting long," Duke said as he worked his left glove free and began to dig and twist it into Marco's body. But Marco was ready for his belly attack this time, and when Duke leaned back to give himself more room for another hook, Marco came over the top and hammered another hard right hand on Duke's temple, stunning the gym champion … then another, and another as Duke was slow to cover up.
It was already apparent that Marco's right was his biggest weapon, and it was plenty effective as the sweat flew from Duke's head every time that big right glove pounded home. Duke was covering up as he stepped back, his back pushing against the ropes right where April was standing … April almost speechless as the two big gladiators towered over her.
Marco pressed his advantage and kept throwing right hands, but with his size and wide stance he kept a distance between them and Duke was unable to clinch. Every time Duke tried to counter with his own right, Marco was able to block it with his left, and every time the gym champ pushed out a jab Marco got off first and pounded home another right. Marco was getting in the last punch in every exchange, almost all of them those right hands off Duke's head, and those rights were starting to take a toll.
"You ready to go down yet," Marco began to taunt. "Why don't you just go down like a good little boy, and that way you won't get hurt any more."
But Duke was hurting already … those repeated shots to his temple having thrown his equilibrium off and making it difficult for him to get his guard up in time to ward off Marco's blows. And it wasn't that Marco's hands were fast, he could also PUNCH … the whole left side of Duke's face was a bright red…and sweat would fly every time Marco connected.
One last right hand was a roundhouse that ripped across Duke's eyebrow, opening a cut that was slowly trickling blood when the bell rang to end Round 2. Duke had his glove up on that eyelid when he got back to his handlers, and April was there a moment later.
"Thought you said this guy was an actor," Duke said. "He's doing a good job of acting like a fighter."
"Just protect yourself, champ," she said. "Keep that left hand high until he starts getting tired. He hasn't been in a lot of fights recently … he won't be able to keep up that pace."
Duke didn't say much, just rocked his head back as his corner worked on the cut. April walked across the ring, and saw Marco smiling at her as she got close.
"How's your little man doing," he asked mockingly. "I haven't even started hitting him much yet, and he's looking for a good place to fall down."
"Don't take him lightly," April said. "He's been hit by a lot of good fighters and he's found a way to beat most of them."
Marco almost laughed and held up his left glove. "I haven't even started using this hand yet," he said. "Maybe I will this round."
The warning buzzer sounded and April slid through the ropes next to Marco's corner, noticing that he never took his eyes off her nice ass. The bell went off as she reached the bottom of the stairs, and as she turned she noticed Marco rubbing his crotch with his left glove and smiling at her. Her eyes were riveted at the bulge in his trunks, one she swore was getting larger.
Duke was more patient in reaching mid-ring this time, but with Marco's distraction it took a few seconds for any action to unfold. And when it did, it was very different from the last round … this time, Marco was content to circle his opponent, up on his toes and almost dancing, while Duke slowly followed and waited for an opening.
While he was circling, Marco began popping out jabs and keeping his distance. Duke was also jabbing, but his were designed to create something for his right hand … Marco might as well have left his right glove in the corner, since his left went back and forth like a piston.
It took a few seconds before others realized it, but Duke felt those left hands more than most thought. Marco had been taught well somewhere in his past that the jab could be a weapon if he learned the art of turning his glove at the moment of impact. It irritated the skin, and eventually created swelling or made his opponent more susceptible to cuts.
Many times when his jab made contact with Duke, the smooth leather of his glove felt more like sandpaper when Marco stuck his left into Duke's face. Before long, the gym champ's left eye was swollen to a slit and the cut over his right eye was oozing blood once again.
Suddenly, Duke stepped inside one of those jabs and put a left hook right on Marco's waistband, and he could feel the air rush out around Marco's mouthpiece as he let out an "unhhhhh" that was loud enough for all the onlookers to hear. Marco's hands dropped in a hurry, and Duke upper-cutted his own right hand under his opponent's chin, pushing Marco's head toward the lights. As his head came back down, Duke pivoted and nailed Marco with a chopping left hand to the side of his face, and Marco abruptly went down on one knee.
The quick turnaround caught everyone by surprise – even Duke, who stood over Marco for a few seconds before the referee shoved him toward a corner.
"Actor, huh," Duke whispered loud enough for Marco to hear as the ref stepped between them. "You need to go back to reading your scripts, and leave the ring for fighters."
Marco shook his head a couple of times and pushed the hair back out of his eyes with his glove before rising, but by the time the referee wiped his gloves he was recovered enough to wave Duke back in. Duke tried to do just that, but Marco went right back to jabbing and moving … and was again beating on Duke's head at a steady pace when the bell clanged.
Marco barely beat April to his own corner, and she may have been breathing more heavily than he was when they arrived.
"He got lucky with a couple of punches," Marco said before April could say anything. "I'm going to pick him apart for a while."
"Fuck him up good for me, baby," she said.
April noticed that Marco looked almost untouched … a marked contract to what she saw on Duke's face when she walked across the ring. His right eye seemed to be swelling by the second, and trainers had a wad of Vaseline crammed into the slit over his left eye.
"Keep your hands up high," she said. "The ref's going to start watching your eyes close. Do that, and just wait for your shot. You got it last round, and you're going to get some other chances."
Duke only nodded. April thought he looked tired already, but he rose quickly when the buzzer sounded and the bell rang for Round 4. Marco was also out quickly, and for a minute the intensity matched that of the first round … neither fighter backing up and both landing heavily.
Again, though, Marco appeared to get in the last punch of every exchange, and the last couple of those had Duke backing up. April watched and wondered if what she was seeing was an illusion … it almost appeared that Marco's upper body was growing as his massive chest rose and fell with his breathing, while Duke was shrinking away, retreating, figuratively growing smaller.
Duke's back was quickly against the ropes, on the far side of the ring from April, and she saw the muscles in Marco's back tighten as he began punishing the gym champ with combinations. She was eyeing Marco's butt when the Italian suddenly dropped his left and plowed an uppercut through Duke's defenses, catching him flush on the chin and sending his head out over the top rope.
A split-second later, a big right hand hissed across Duke's jaw line, and Duke went down like he had been shot, his arms and gloves tangling in the ropes as he spun to the canvas.
This time Marco didn't say anything, just raised his gloves over his head as he walked to a neutral corner before the ref could point.
Those two shots would have been enough to finish off any of the gym's other fighters, but his brief celebration was premature against Duke. The big man was hurt and stunned, but he slowly dragged himself up by the ropes and was on his feet when the count reached 8. He nodded at the ref's questions before Marco quickly came back across the ring.
Duke did his best to cover up, but he now had a huge ache in his jaw to go with his eye problems. And Marco's fast hands were applying a beating to all those areas and a few others as Duke began to lean heavily on the ropes.
Marco quickly dropped his right hand and doubled up with two big body shots right on Duke's waistband, and when the gym champ slowly dropped his gloves in response Marco's eyes widened.
"Down you go, little man," he said as another right hand pounded off Duke's jaw, grotesquely distorting his face for a moment before he went to the canvas face-first and rolled over on his back. He saw Marco looming over him.
"This is now MY gym," he said, and then pointed at April. "And THAT is now my bitch … to use however I please."
The referee stepped in between and pushed Marco away, beginning the formality of a 10-count. Duke had barely stirred when the referee waved his hands in the air. "You're out," he said as Marco raised his gloves once again.
While his handlers helped Duke to his stool, Marco walked over to where April was now standing on the apron and began removing his gloves. The exertion of the final round had caused him to sweat even more heavily, and his white trunks were soaking wet and almost transparent. April could clearly see the definition of the head of his cock right at his waistband, and was mesmerized.
Marco saw her looking at his crotch.
"You like that?," he said. "I thought from what you were saying that he'd be a lot tougher … but maybe you haven't been around any real men."
Marco saw his assistant Gina standing close by, a perturbed expression on her face.
"Maybe Gina would like him," he said, loud enough for all to hear, while he gestured toward Duke's corner where trainers were still working over him. "Maybe he'd be enough man for her."
"Are we done here," Gina yelled at the ring. "Can we get out of here now and get away from all this foolishness?"
"You go ahead," he answered. "I have a date to enjoy the prize that goes along with the title," glancing back at April.
Gina gave April a malicious look as she walked close, and then looked Marco in the eye.
"Go get your jollies off," she said, "and then ditch this tramp."
"I've had just about enough of your crap," April said as she stepped within arm's reach of Gina, and reached to grab her before Marco's arm shot out, grabbing and twisting April's arm hard.
"Oooowwww," April said. "That HURT."
Marco didn't say anything, and only walked away while almost dragging April by the arm, back to the locker area.
Behind a locked door, people in the gym could hear April's screams, thinking they were cries of passion. Some were … but some weren't.

++++++

Duke's jaw turned out to be broken, and he needed surgery to repair the two cracked bones and also had to have his jaw wired shut for an extended healing period. Friends visited him regularly … but April not so much. Marco had forbidden it.
April rarely left Marco's apartment in the first two days after the fight, and their time had been filled with the satisfying of desires – almost all of them Marco's. April was no rookie when it came to pleasing a man, especially a fighter, but she also enjoyed the give-and-take of what was metaphorically a sexual boxing match … two warriors figuratively trying to pound each other into submission.
Marco was nothing like her other lovers … those who had submitted to her whims and in reward had their worlds rocked by her talents. Marco had to always be in control of the sex … he liked it rough, and when April would ask or beg for a change, he only pounded himself into her harder. Her climaxes were totally unimportant to him, but he did bring her to orgasm several times just with the size of his member and the force with which he used it.
It didn't take long for the sex to become unfulfilling for April, but even worse she was slowly becoming nothing more than one of Marco's possessions. He often forbade her to do some things she wanted to do, and he had put a stop to her regular trips to the gym.
Slowly, she became a running joke to Marco and Gina, who continued to work on his movie career and spent much more time together than Marco and April. And when they were together, he became more and more abusive and dominating, to the point of physical abuse. She was a person of her word and she'd struck this bargain, but she also knew that if this path continued, she would eventually have to get away from him.
That meant she'd have to find a fighter to beat him. Duke was out of commission for a while with his jaw, so that best option was off the table. In fact, April knew she really had only one option … and she still knew the phone number.
"Hello," I answered.
"Hi … it's April," she said hesitantly. "I know I have no right to ask you, … but I need your help."
I could hear her begin sobbing over the phone.

+++++

What's the worst that could happen? I'd been in two fights over April's considerable charms, and winning one of those opened the door for a month of passionate bliss that I'd never imagined. Losing to Duke in the second hurt physically, but I recovered and had moved on with life until the evening of that phone call.
April sneaked away from Marco the next afternoon and met me at the gym, where she broke down and told all the stories of Marco's abuse. She knew it would make me angry, and she was right, but she was still hesitant to involve me unless I really wanted to take Marco on.
And I knew I had to do that. Nobody had the right to treat other people that way – most notably April, whom I considered several notches above any other female I'd ever known. She deserved much better, and apparently I was the only vehicle for her to get what she deserved.
And, honestly, the thought of being back with her, even for a short time, was damned enticing … it was so erotic that just thinking about it was enough to give me wet dreams every night until what we had decided would be "fight night."
We were just starting to figure out the details …. When Gina strode into the gym.
"I figured I'd find you here," she yelled at the two of us. "The little slut can't seem to get away from the rest of the trash here."
I quickly got up and got between them, facing Gina and holding April behind me.
"You are going to leave here now, and you're not going to say anything to Marco about her being here," I told her. "If you say anything at all to him about this, I'm going to drag you down here one night, and a friend of mine is going to use you for a punching bag."
"Your little threats don't scare me," Gina said.
"Just try it, if you don't think I'm serious," I said. "Of course, unless you just want to get beaten up…"
Gina turned and walked quickly toward the door. April was still behind me, and when I turned around she grabbed me forcefully.
"What have I gotten myself into," she said, and again she was on the verge of tears.
"Don't worry about anything," I said. "We'll take care of this … and if I'm guessing right, you're going to get the chance to take care of your bitch friend right here," I added, smiling at a developing plan.
She soon was smiling back.
"Oh, God, I want you so bad right now," she said, reaching down to grab my crotch. "I want that big cock in me … right there in the ring."
I held her at arm's length, despite the protestations coming from my bulging member. "What you need to do, right now, is go back to Marco's … act like nothing out of the ordinary happened until all this falls into place. If Gina tells him – which I'm almost sure she will – you need to tell him you wanted to see him fight again and you were here to see if there was anybody interested. It's not that far from the truth."
April quickly left, and I started planning.

+++++

Sure enough, Gina had spilled her guts to Marco, telling him how she'd tailed April to the gym and saw the two of us together. But when Marco confronted April, she was brilliant with her cover story, and by the end of their conversation Marco seemed genuinely excited about another fight.
"He's only a middleweight, and he wants to take me on?," Marco asked her. "I admire his bravery. Maybe I'll take it easy on him for a couple of rounds before I start hurting him. I think I'm looking forward to beating this little man."
Marco was so excited about getting back into our gym – "showing those losers there what a real man looks like and fights like," he crowed – that he gave April some breathing room to take care of fight details. Marco had agreed on the next Saturday night, when he had a break from his movie schedule, and April only had a few days to get everything set up. But by now, she was good at that, and besides, we had to take care of planning some extra ring action one night before our fight.
Gina was again disgusted with the thought of Marco going back in that gym and boxing … she didn't want to be associated with "those kind of people." But she was resigned to whatever Marco wanted. She didn't think twice about responding to a message from Marco late that Friday, and was actually excited since it asked her to meet him at the gym on the Friday night "to help pick out some camera angles." Maybe he was planning on filming some of it to use for publicity, she thought … maybe all this could actually do us some good.
But Marco didn't send that message, and he was nowhere around when she walked in the open gym door exactly at the appointed time – 8 p.m. – that Friday night. And she was startled when I slammed and locked the door behind her, and she saw me step out from behind the door's shadow.
"I told you what would happen if you talked to Marco about us," I said as I walked up to her and April also appeared out of the shadows from the direction of the ring.
Gina saw she had no escape, and tried to put on a tough exterior. "So what are you going to do, beat me up?," she sneered at me.
"I'm not … she is," I said, pointing toward April … and Gina realized that April was dressed in boxing gear. She had on the same impossibly-tight white foxy Everlast trunks she'd worn in her bout with Carla, the same white boxing boots and a tight "wife-beater" shirt that was cut off just below her stunning bosom. Her hands were wrapped and she had a pair of white gloves tied together over her shoulder.
Damn, she looked incredible. Watching her standing there, breathing heavily, it was all I could do to hold back a jeans-soaking orgasm right there. But finally I worked my way back to the task at hand.
"Here's how it will work," I snapped at Gina. "I've got gear for you back there. You're going to get in the ring and box with April, as many rounds as it takes until someone gets knocked out. Nobody else will be in here, and I'll referee and take care of both of you between rounds."
"And if I don't do it?," Gina said.
"It's either that," I said, "or I'll hold you in the ring and let her pummel you without you having a chance to defend yourself. You get in there with her, and at least it's a fair fight … and nobody else will ever know what happened here tonight."
April had slipped her gloves on loosely while I talked, and when I finished she slammed her gloves together a couple of times for effect. The "thap….thap" noise bounced off the gym's walls.
"Guess I don't have a choice," Gina said, and I grabbed her arm and led her toward the locker rooms. "Hurry back," April said as we walked away, "because I want this fun to last as long as it can."
April and I had put everything that Gina would need in the locker room – gloves, wraps and ring gear. April had snooped around and taken care of the sizing, so she knew the high-rising black shorts, bra and shoes would fit.
"You gonna get out while I dress," she said. "Nope," I came back, "but I will turn around."
Gina was tall and toned, but she was no fighter, and had probably never had boxing gloves on her hands, gauging by how she reached when I was wrapping her hands and lacing the gloves. But she still had the superior attitude.
"How hard can this be," she said as she started clumsily punching the air. "If you people can do this, I certainly can."
This is going to be great fun, I thought, as we walked out the door and headed for the ring. April was already there, and as we got close I could see a sheen of sweat on that stunning body and a malicious smile on her face as she rolled her shoulders and stayed loose. In contrast, Gina struggled even to find a coordinated way to step through the ropes, and had a tentative look on her face when I called them to mid-ring.
"OK, two-minute rounds, two minutes in between to give me time to check on both of you," I said. "Otherwise, straight boxing rules until somebody gets knocked out. After that is up to you…"
April smiled at that statement. Gina was too caught up in the moment to understand, and still didn't when they went to their corners and I started the timer. The 10-second buzzer went off instantly.
April was banging her gloves together again, the noise filling the deserted gym and causing Gina to flinch. In that moment, April and I had the same thought … this was going to be so much fun.

++++++

April could have ended the mismatch in the first round, but it was a testament to her skills – and how much she wanted to punish Gina, and in the process punish Marco – that she extended her abuse over five rounds.
But they were five rounds of great fun for April, and five rounds of agony for Marco's right-hand girl, and that included almost a full minute after the opening bell when April's only punches were verbal ones. She knew she had all the time in the world, and wanted to enjoy every second.
She even enjoyed the moments right after the bell, when the contrast between the two fully manifested itself. April, with her years around the boxing game, looked every bit the fighter in body, stance and movement. Gina actually recoiled when the bell sounded and looked more confused than anything, although she did make an attempt to mimic April's posture.
"You really have no idea what you're in for, do you?," April taunted her outmatched opponent. "You think you're just going to get beaten up a little? Baby, I'm going to fuck you up so bad you won't even want to think about it, and then I'll just fuck you so much you'll never want anything inside you ever again."
"I could just knock you out right now, but that would be letting you off too easy. The pain's so much better when it lasts a loooonnnng time, and you're going to feel that kind of pain. And when I finish dishing out pain with these" – April raised her gloves – "I'm going to make you suffer in so many other ways."
"C'mon, bitch … I'll even give you the first shot," she said as she lowered her arms and let her gloves hang at her sides, pointing her chin at Gina. "See if you have the guts to hit me."
Gina took the bait, and clumsily cocked her hand back and swung. April was waiting, easily ducked under and planted a left hook right into the lower abs, just under the waistband of Gina's shorts. It was only one punch, but Gina'd never been hit before, and recoiled all the way to the ropes and wrapped her stomach with both hands.
"Oooo, did that hurt? Sorry I lied," April mocked her as she walked to Gina standing at the ropes. "Here, I'll give you another chance," as she again dropped her hands. Gina again had a wide swing with her right hand, but April quickly raised her left and blocked it, while sticking her own right directly into Gina's face and smashing her nose. Blood quickly started dripping out.
The blood drops were apparently a signal, as April began to pummel Gina, treating her just like the heavy bags that she hit during her workouts. And Gina was about as dangerous, since she only covered and never tried to retaliate. She tried to turn her back, only to have April begin hooking to the sides of her head with both hands, causing her head to bounce back and forth with every impact. April also pounded her sides and her kidney areas until the skin was red and raw.
"Turn around and face me!," April yelled, but Gina wasn't interested in seeing the gloves coming at her. Eventually, after more hooks to her ears, April shoved Gina into a corner and forcefully spun her around before pinning Gina' neck against the corner pad with her left arm.
"Now we're going to have some fun," April said as she began pounding Gina's body with her free right hand, seemingly digging deeper with every punch. Loud retching sounds bellowed out of Gina's mouth as April continued to pound away against Gina's pathetic attempts at covering up, and eventually Gina's arms hung at her sides, leaving her a wide-open target.
That's when April used her glove thumbs under Gina's straps, jerking the sports bra down and exposing her perky breasts. April began using them as mini-speed bags, jabbing with her left and crossing with her right as Gina howled in pain, her breasts being smashed into her chest with every punch.
April stopped after a few moments and mashed one of Gina's swollen nipples with her glove thumbs. "Marco like playing with these," she said. "I'll make sure he doesn't get to do that for a while."
April began uppercutting Gina's breasts, but doing it with the laces out so they would rip across her sore areolas, and it didn't take long before her tits were ripped open and bleeding, with only the bell ending the first round stopping the abuse.
I had to help Gina to her stool and get a towel to wipe the blood away. For her part, April didn't even to go her corner … she just stood at mid-ring, gloves on her hips, waiting for the next bell when she could rip Gina up more.
It got worse as the rounds continued. Some times, April would concentrate on Gina's lips, which quickly were swollen and cracked into small rivers of blood, other times she would smash her nose, and others she would send punch after punch into Gina's eyes which were quickly swollen to the point where Gina was looking out through narrow slits. Then April raked her laces across the swelling, letting loose a torrent of maroon blood.
"Don't worry about your face," April taunted her during one exchange. "Marco probably knows a good plastic surgeon … he's probably used him a few times himself."
Gina's breasts would also need some work. Large pieces of breast skin were flapping as April repeatedly mauled Gina's tits with her glove laces, and what wasn't ripped and bleeding was black and blue as April's gloves pounded them repeatedly. Gina was also badly bruised below her breasts, where April had beaten a steady diet of lefts and rights on and below her ribs.
But for the most part, for three more rounds, April played it smart, never allowing Gina to go down. If she'd ever done that, I would have been forced to count her out and that part of April's fun would be over. So every time Gina looked like she was ready to go, April backed off a little and hung her on the ropes or in a corner, keeping her upright and a target for more pain from the Everlast twins.
In the fifth round, though, Gina was nearly unconscious from the pain and loss of blood and couldn't stand from her stool to start the round. So April whacked the side of her head while she was still sitting, sending her sprawling on the canvas and spread-eagled – in just the position April wanted her.
"I knew you were a cunt already, so let's just see how much of one," April said while pinning Gina's body to the canvas with one knee, holding one leg down with her left glove and punching Gina's wide-open crotch with her right. "BAM …. BAM …. BAM ….," the sound of her pussy punches echoed around the gym mixed with Gina's screams.
April quickly pulled off Gina's shorts and continued pounding away at her swelling mound until Gina passed out from the pain.
"Oh, no, you're not getting off that easy," April said, "…. Or maybe you are going to get off."
With that, April began massaging Gina's mound with the thumb of her glove before inserting it, and before long she was pistoning her thumb in and out as fast as she could – now winning a boxing match with Gina's clit. Her glove-fuck revived Gina in a big way, and Gina's body began spasming before erupting in a flood of juices that soaked April's glove.
"How dare you come before me," April laughed at her … and just as quickly she tore off her foxy Everlasts and planted her own now-screaming pussy on Gina's fear-filled face and mouth. "Your tongue better be a whole lot better than your gloves," April warned her prostate foe, "or we're going to go back to the first bell and do this all over again."
Gina somehow found the strength to tongue deep into April – the only action all evening that was close to an even fight – and April used her vaginal muscles like a suction cup, alternately pulling Gina's tongue deep into her and letting it withdraw. The tongue-fuck soon brought April to a thunderous orgasm, nearly drowning Gina with a torrent as she passed out once again.
After a couple of minutes, April stood up and straddled the knocked-out Gina. April was still wearing her gloves, boots and the cut-off wife-beater shirt which was plastered by sweat to the top of her breasts and didn't cover the rest, and she had her gloves on her hips. The moisture in her pussy from her sexy knockout shone brightly in the ring lights.
Her standing there was the most erotic thing I'd ever seen. I had long since quit being a referee and became an ogler to the spectacle in front of me … my jeans already off and masturbating for all I was worth when April walked over to the stool I was sitting on.
"Having fun over here?," she said as she put her hands on the top rope and leaned over me, her rock-hard nipples and sweat-covered breasts only inches from my face.
She moved her gloves from the ropes and used them to spread my legs, and begin delicately punching my engorged cock. In only seconds a stream of hot cum shot out and landed on both of our chests.
April quickly straddled me, lowered herself as I entered her and felt her incredible heat, and pressed her chest against me. As she began slowly thrusting, pulling me deep, she said, "Hope that's not all you have in there."
After not being with her for weeks, and watching the sexiest ring action ever, it definitely wasn't all I had.

++++++

April stayed at my place that night, the first time she'd been away from Marco since his win over Duke. She did send Marco a message before we left the gym, telling him that Gina needed his help to get her to a doctor. She knew he'd be furious, both with her absence and with what she'd done to Gina, but he wouldn't be able to search her out or find her before our fight the next night.
Her "bout" with Gina and the extracurricular activities had worn us both out, and neither of us woke until mid-morning until she began massaging me.
"You think you can beat him tonight?," she asked after a minute.
"I really don't know," I told her honestly. "After what he did to Duke … and he's going to be plenty pissed at both of us. I'm hoping I can use that to my advantage."
"I really need you to beat him," April said, tears welling up again. "I don't know if I can be around him any more."
That was all the motivation I needed, but I wondered all afternoon while I got ready if motivation would be enough.

++++++

We got to the gym early that evening, April wanting to get there and take care of some last-second details before Marco arrived. She didn't want to have any contact with him until he was in the ring … then she would take her spot at ringside.
Just like the night a few weeks ago when Marco took Duke out, the gym was again going to be open for spectators. April had arranged for a referee and for cornermen to work for both fighters, and the gym manager had put out several rows of chairs around the ring – word had spread about Marco's last fight, and both Duke and I had a lot of friends that had gotten word about tonight's action.
Word had also spread in Marco's movie circles, and dozens of his acquaintances were in the audience well before fight time – and some of them had a "Hollywood" look about them.
I was already in my locker room by that time – by habit, April had posted "Champion" and "Challenger" signs, and I obviously set up in the "Challenger" side – and my cornermen had already wrapped and taped my hands and was just about to put the gloves on when April walked in.
"No hanky-panky this time," I said, smiling, as she put her hands on my shoulders and began massaging. But seeing her in what had to be the shortest and tightest white dress ever – matching my all-white trunks, of course – was still enough to get a rise from my crotch.
"Nope," she said. "Not this time … just wanted to come by and wish you luck, and let you know that whatever happens, don't worry about me. I'll be fine."
Too late for that, I thought, as she stepped back.
"Everything ready," I asked. "You see Marco?"
"Everything's set up," she said. "He's in his locker room … haven't seen him, and I'm going to stay in here until I know both of you are in the ring."
"Good idea," I said as the trainer came over with my gloves and started lacing. When he finished and applied a quick Vaseline coat to my face, we got up and headed out toward the ring.
"Good luck," April said, and I thought I saw her shiver once before the door closed behind us. But before we made it out of the hallway into the main gym, I saw a familiar face in the outer doorway. Duke had come to watch, and I could tell his mouth was still wired shut.
I nodded to him without expression, not knowing how to react, and was more than a little surprised when he smiled and winked at me.

END PART FIVE

APRIL'S OFFER – PART FOUR
The timer gave a 10-second warning buzzer, and I took one more look at the stunning sights in both corners before …
DING, DING!
Carla bounced out of her corner, up on the balls of her feet in a classic stance – I couldn't help but notice how her red top and chest moved with every bounce. April stepped forward and established herself at mid-ring, moving but not bouncing, conserving energy – just like Duke, I thought. She's been watching … and learning.
Carla began popping out jabs just as she had in the locker room, but most came up short as she kept her distance and the others only lightly bounced off April's high-held gloves. This wasn't a normal fight between two women who aren't professional boxers, I thought … most times, women will flail their way out of control and throw roundhouse punches until they exhaust themselves in 15 seconds.
Not these two … they are serious about this.
Carla kept jabbing, and one split April's gloves and snapped her head back for a moment. Carla immediately followed up with a right that connected on April's forehead, and moments later she landed the same one-two combination two straight times. April felt every one of them and had backed up a step.
"You gonna try to hit me, blondie," Carla hissed through her mouthpiece, "or you want me to just go ahead and beat you up and get it over with?"
April just kept swaying, bobbing her head slightly.
Carla again jabbed at April's chin and again came over the top with another right hand. This time, though, April used her left hand to block, and pivoted around and planted a hard right cross directly under Carla's breastbone – her first punch of the fight, right in the solar plexus.
Carla took three big steps backwards and was struggling to regain the breath that was knocked out of her. April could have pressed her advantage, but instead stood there, gloves still high, under control just as she had been since the bell rang.
"Can't breathe, bitch?" April said. "There's a lot more of that coming."
It took Carla only a few seconds to recover, and she quickly went back to her plan of jabbing, jabbing, jabbing. She was much more careful when she tried to follow up with a right hand, but her left was keeping April at bay and was pushing April's gloves back into her face more and more often.
April began taking small steps forward, hoping to get inside those jabs, but mostly wound up eating some of those left hands aimed at her head. Carla was getting into a rhythm … bap, bap, bap … and she was now getting a little more daring with the follow-up right that clipped across April's chin more than once, twisting her head and causing sweat to fly.
A quick three-punch combination from Carla – another jab, a follow right and a left hook – all landed. April wasn't hurt, but she felt all three, and the last one shook her and she momentarily stumbled back.
"I'm going to pick you apart," Carla said, "and then I'm going to start hurting you." She continued to keep her distance, and continued to flick the jab at April's head.
For her part, April was unfazed, but she was also unable to close the gap between the two for most of the round. Still, she kept her cool despite the jabbing lesson, and had started slipping inside some of those jabs and answering with left jabs of her own when the timer sounded.
I went to check Carla's corner first, knowing that she was unmarked. I pulled her mouthpiece and gave her some water. She wasn't even breathing hard.
"You know I can keep doing this all night," Carla said. "I'm gonna keep jabbing her to death, and eventually she'll wear down and go down."
"Your jab's working well," was all I said as I toweled off what little sweat she'd raised.
"I have a lot of things that work well," Carla said, "and I'll show you as soon as I finish off the little bitch."
I walked across the ring to April, who wasn't marked but had some redness in a couple of places, the result of Carla's popping jab.
"Don't tell me … I know," she said as I knelt in front, washing off her mouthpiece and squirting water into her mouth. "I have to stop her jab. But I know what I'm doing … trust me."
"I already know never to question you," I said. "Just be careful."
April gave me a wink, and I popped the mouthpiece back in just as the warning buzzer sounded. Both women were off their stools well before the bell for Round 2.
Again, Carla bounded out and began circling, and April moved to mid-ring, and action picked up just as it left off, with Carla's jabbing in steady rhythm and April having some success in parrying and getting in jabs of her own. But if this continued for long, Carla was right … she would eventually wear April down.
Which made it surprising that, after a few exchanges, Carla waved April in, daring her to try to come close.
"C'mon, blondie," Carla yelled through the mouthpiece as she dared April. "C'mon in so I can cut you up some … maybe make you bleed out of that worn out cunt. As much as it gets used, I'm surprised any men would want it. C'mon, bring that worn out pussy in here, you whore."
Up until then, April had kept her cool, but Carla's last trash-talk finally set her off. Flush red with anger, April lunged forward and swung a murderous right hand at Carla's head. But Carla had expected that … planned for it, actually … and she easily ducked under April's wild swing that left her body totally unprotected.
Carla sunk a hard left hook just above the Everlast patch on April's low-riding waistband, and the "ooooffff" of air coming out of April's mouth was audible. As she bent over to cover, Carla snapped off a three-punch combination that would have been the envy of some pros … a quick right-left-right that had April's head flailing back and forth. The third of those punches, a solid right cross, sent April's mouthpiece flying as her butt found the canvas.
I hurriedly grabbed the mouthpiece, which had gone halfway across the ring, and when I turned around Carla was still standing over April. The spectacle of the two – one tall and toned, all in red and in a dominant position, the other blond and voluptuous, in white and down on the mat – was visually stunning, and I couldn't do anything but stare for a couple of seconds before moving in to separate them.
"I hope you get up," Carla said as I grabbed her arm and started pushing her toward a corner, "because I haven't even started to have fun with you yet."
I started counting, "1 … 2 … 3." It was obvious April wasn't hurt and was fully alert – probably got caught off balance more than anything else – but she had seen enough bouts to know to take the full mandatory eight-count. By the time I cleaned her gloves on my shirt and replaced her mouthpiece, she was already ready and nodded to me before I could ask if she was all right.
But she was still plenty mad, maybe even madder now, and even Carla's well-thought-out plan hadn't counted on the fury of April scorned.
Throwing caution to the wind, April walked right into Carla and began swinging wild punches in bunches without any regard to defense. Most of them missed and Carla was able to parry or dodge most, but the longer April's attack continued, the more her punches began finding a spot on Carla's tall body. And since there was no pattern to April's attack, Carla was having more and more trouble defending.
A left split Carla's gloves and "THAPP" caught her square in the nose. A low right dug into her side and forced her elbow down, opening her head for April's follow-up right that bounced off her temple and rocked her back. A sweeping left hook pounded into the side of her right breast, bringing a cry of pain, and as she lowered her guard to her injured tit April caught her with a right hand to the jaw that pushed her back. Suddenly it was Carla that had her back against the ropes, and April was on top of her raining punches and Carla was answering with counters of her own when the timer went off. I had to step between them to stop the hammering from both women.
I went to April's corner first, grabbed the mouthpiece and water and kneeled in front of her. Her breath was coming in big gulps and she shook her arms at her sides.
"I was beginning to wonder if you were going to do anything but play punching bag," I said, and April had a half-smile while drinking heavily from the bottle. "Just don't punch yourself out … you'll use up all your energy."
"She hasn't seen punches yet," April said, her breathing only beginning to come under control.
"Just take it easy," I said as I finished toweling the heavy sweat off her face and shoulders. She had a growing mouse under her right eye – Carla's jabs were still taking a toll – but otherwise was no worse for wear.
I walked over to Carla's corner, and she was much different than she was following Round 1. Her breathing was much heavier, and she had red marks over both eyes and on one side where April's gloves had scraped across. She'd learned a lot of punching technique in those lessons, I thought, but there aren't any lessons on how to take a punch … that you learn in the heat of action, and she hadn't been in too many fights … maybe she'd never really been hit before in anything past a sparring session.
She also kept rubbing the side of her right breast where April had tagged her, and winced each her glove made contact with her red top.
"Damn little bitch," she said while I held her mouthpiece and gave her water. "I'm gonna make her pay for that tit shot."
"Keep your distance," I told her … while silently hoping she would wade back into a slugfest. She may be more polished, but this wasn't for style points. This was a FIGHT, and I'd take April over her in a brawl any day. Carla didn't say anything, just cast a mean look in my direction, and I wiped a towel over her face and shoulders as the warning buzzer sounded.
I could tell Carla was pissed as she stood up, banging her gloves together over and over until the bell sounded.
Both missed with jabs early before Carla feinted with a left and sent her right hand over the top and into April's forehead before a follow-up left caught the right side of April's face. Carla had abandoned her jab-and-move plan and was determined to slug it out … and even with her temporary success, that played into April's hands.
April came back fast and hard, keeping her left hand in Carla's face and starting to pound both of Carla's biceps with hooks. She's been around boxing long enough to know, I thought … those punches don't look and feel like they do damage, but the cumulative effect is that after being hit over and over on them, a fighter's arms weaken fast and eventually become almost useless. Carla, having not been around the fight game, won't even realize it until it's too late.
April follows one of those hooks to the bicep with a left hook to the jaw, and Carla was wobbled by its force and tried to clinch. While she was reaching, though, April snapped a quick right below Carla's navel, the glove hitting bare skin sounding like a whip cracking, and followed with an uppercut that cut through Carla's arms and clipped her right on the chin. This time, it was Carla's cute tush that was sitting on the canvas, April standing over her with her fists still cocked.
"Yeah, you like that?," April sneered as her mouthpiece peaked on her lips and I steered her toward a neutral corner.
I stepped in and started a count with Carla still sitting, and she quickly boosted herself with her gloves back to a standing position. As I wiped her gloves, I could see the confident look from the first two rounds gone and could tell she was already getting tired. It's not usually the punches, I was thinking, it's getting hit by the other guy's punches that eventually wear you down.
I had barely gotten out of the way before April snapped a jab between Carla's gloves that mashed her nose, and a trickle of blood began to drop out. April tries three more jabs and a hooking right, and Carla stepped back enough to avoid the right. But stepping back put her against the ropes again, and April waded in. Carla was doing a good job of covering her face with her gloves and much of her body with her arms and elbows, but those arms again became a target for April now that Carla wasn't punching back much.
When she finally worked her way off the ropes, Carla was backing up, shaking her arms to try to loosen them up and lessen the pain. But she underestimated April's speed, and while she had her arms at her sides April stepped within range and delivered a quick left-right, one each into those red-clad breasts. She followed with more of the same, knocking away Carla's efforts to block her punches and brutally pounding her chest over and over amid Carla's squeals of pain.
Eventually Carla forgot about protecting anything else and wrapped her breasts with both arms, leaving both her head and abs open – a killer combination, which is what April hit her with. Another left-right went into both eyes, rocking Carla's head back, and April followed with a volley of punches into Carla's reddening belly that backed her into a corner. She was bent halfway over and April was teeing off with wide swinging uppercuts to Carla's face and head when the timer went off.
I stepped in quickly as April spun around, almost dancing back to her corner. In contrast, I had to help Carla get her bearings, and when she straightened up I saw a cut over her left eye, blood running down the side of her face, and her nose now dripping blood much more quickly. She was also starting to swell around both eyes.
"You all right," I said as I sat her on the stool, squirted water on her face and tried to stop the blood flow from her eye and nose with a towel. Carla didn't say anything, and just held the towel over her eyes and nose.
I tried to pull her bikini top away from her bright-red breasts, and Carla shuddered.
"Hurts," she said. "Take it off." I reached around and unhooked the top before pulling it of her shoulders and away from her chest. I could already see large bruises forming.
I walked over to April, who was all smiles. She had her arms draped over the middle ropes and her knees spread wide on the stool, and was covered with enough sweat to look like she just stepped out of the shower. Her shorts and shirt were plastered to her skin. Damn, she looked sexy.
"That a little better?," she said as I wiped her face and dabbed the couple of places that Carla's blood had dripped (I wasn't about to towel off anything else … it looked too damn good).
"You got her now," I said. "Just don't do anything silly, and don't punch yourself out."
"She's the only thing that's getting punched out," she said as she suddenly leaned forward. "This thing's in my way," she said as she raised one arm and used a glove to pull her shirt over her head and throw it outside the ring.
She caught me staring right at her chest, her nipples hard as rocks and poking out close to a full inch, and asked for the water bottle which I put into one of her gloves. But instead of drinking from it, she squirted some across the top of her chest, the water running down over her gorgeous orbs. She then pulled her waistband out from her tummy and squirted the rest of the bottle down her trunks.
"Needed to cool off some," she laughed. Maybe she was cool, but I was on fire, and when I stood up my erection was obvious to anybody who might have been looking. Carla wasn't in any condition to notice, even when I walked back across just before the buzzer to give her water and check on her once more.
When the bell went off, April almost sprinted across the ring, trapping Carla in her own corner almost before she got off the stool. She began the breast maul once again, this time alternating her punches with turning her gloves and raking the laces across the reddened flesh. Large welts began appearing across her breasts, and some began bleeding as the leather from April's gloves ripped across.
The breast attack was a ploy to get Carla to wrap her arms on her chest again, and when she did April planted her left forearm under Carla's chin and pushed backwards against the corner. She then used her right to rain big punches into Carla's unprotected abdomen, one of which forced enough air out to shoot Carla's mouthpiece out to mid-ring.
I collected the mouthpiece but didn't try to break up the action as April continued to pound away, her punches going lower and lower until Carla's thong was her only target. With Carla pinned in the corner and unable to defend herself, April continued the abuse until Carla was leaning limply back against the turnbuckle, all but unconscious.
"Who's having fun now," April yelled through her mouthpiece. "I am going to fuck you up so bad … and then I'm going to fuck you."
April still held her arm against Carla's windpipe, holding her in place in the corner, and used the thumb of her other glove to jerk Carla's thong down and expose her cleanly-shaved pussy. Now with a clear target, April's right hand became a punching machine, pistoning hard punches directly into Carla's clit as she screamed with every impact.
A combination of blood, piss and pussy juice began running down Carla's legs as her vaginal muscles collapsed under April's abuse. Almost on cue, April stopped the pussy punching, but instead of allowing Carla to slip to the canvas, she hung her arms over the top ropes in the corner, leaving the semi-conscious fighter sitting on a lower rope and wide open for more abuse.
The timer went off to supposedly end the round, but April paid no attention, and I only leaned against the ropes and watched.
"You think that's going to save you," she hissed before spitting out her mouthpiece. "The only time that's up is yours."
April started slowly punching Carla's face, lightly at first and gradually increasing in power and frequency until she was punishing Carla's eyes. Blood flowed from the old cut in a gusher and April's punches opened a new cut over the other eye before Carla's arm slipped off the ropes and she crashed to the canvas face-first.
April grabbed Carla's feet and pulled her to mid-ring before flipping her on her back and standing over her, her boots on either side of Carla's horrifically swollen and disfigured chest.
"Damn, I am so fucking wet," April said, as she tore off her soaked trunks and dropped with her knees on both sides of Carla's head. "I need you to get my rocks off right now."
April lowered her soaking-wet pussy over Carla's mouth and nose and began to grind away, rhythmically rubbing herself back and forth with her gloved hands at her hips – almost appearing to push her body further into Carla's face. She began biting her lip and moaning as her thrusts became more intense, before April let out a scream and grabbed Carla's head and held it tight to her clit as she reveled in a thunderous orgasm.
Still not satisfied, April turned around and spread Carla's legs, and used the thumbs of both her gloves to begin rubbing between both of their legs. Eventually, those thumbs were inside both women as April masturbated herself and finger-fucked her now-unconscious opponent.
"Mmmmmm, sooooo goooooood," April moaned as she withdrew both thumbs and began pushing even more of her glove up Carla's snatch. Eventually all of the four-finger part of the glove was inside and ramming deep as April was virtually beating Carla from the inside out.
Soon, her punch-fucking finished, April stood up in all her naked glory and raised her arms in the air, her gloves still on her wrists, as she walked over to where I was standing.
"I am so goddamned turned on right now," she said, one leg snaking around mine and holding me against the ropes as she deep-kissed me, her tongue almost raping my throat. She started tearing my clothes away and began manhandling my hugely-erect cock before I could fully shed my pants and boxers, before grabbing my arms, pulling me to the canvas and rolling quickly on top of me.
"I want you inside me NOW," she groaned, and roughly began rubbing her throbbing clit against my throbbing member. Suddenly she raised her hips and pushed down, taking my cock inside her with one incredible stroke, and began thrusting like a machine.
Never in any of our erotic moments over the previous three weeks had April been so physical, so raw, so … violent and dominating. I came in a huge volume way too quickly, but April kept her forceful thrusting, producing orgasm after orgasm from both of us before I went totally limp.
I couldn't move a muscle. But April? She stayed astride me … and hadn't even bothered to take off her gloves and boots.
"That all you got, pussy?," she said, but instead of the anger she'd directed at Carla, she had a big grin on her flushed-red face. "Thought you were a champion … a stud."
She raised her arms in a double-bicep pose, her gloves pointed toward the ceiling. "Guess there's a new unbeaten champ now … until you're ready for a rematch."
I felt a familiar stirring in my crotch, which was still held firmly in place by her soaking-wet womanhood.
"Ooooooo, I feel a challenge to the champ," April cooed. "Guess someone's in for another beating."

++++++

I had called in sick for another work Monday – the second time in three weeks, I thought, this isn't like me – and quickly fell back asleep. April never stirred when I got up and went to the phone, and that didn't surprise me after her levels of exertion on Sunday. Not only had she won a brutal boxing match, but she had experienced – no, she had controlled – hours worth of erotic domination and incredible lovemaking.
After her fight with Carla, she had been insatiable … in the ring, and then again later when we got home. I had made sure Carla was able to walk and had put her in a cab before we left the gym in the middle of the night. She had all but raped me in the ring, and it wasn't much different when we finally crawled into bed well after the rest of the world had closed down.
I had never seen her that way. There was no other way to describe it – over and over she would fuck me to an orgasm, milk me dry, then work me back hard and start all over. She was like a machine … an erotic, perpetual-orgasm machine, and she went for hours. The times that I couldn't get back "up" and satisfy her, she fingered herself until her entire body would nearly convulse. She would stop for a few minutes, catch her breath, and then it was back on me, until she finally passed out from total exhaustion.
I figured she wouldn't wake up until mid-afternoon, but when I got back into bed she was half-awake and rolled over toward me.
"Hey, by the way, I set up another fight for you and Duke," she sleepily said. "Friday night, same rules, same everything …," before she fell back asleep.

++++++

April eventually gave me all the details. We were going to meet at her gym late Friday night – after 9 p.m. when the gym closed to the public. Same setup as last time … just the three of us, two-minute rounds and she would check both corners in the two-minute breaks. The bout ends only by knockout … and if one fighter quits, the other can continue until there is a knockout.
April was almost licking her lips as she ticked off each little bit of information.
"Why so soon," I asked when she finished. "Have I treated you OK? Have I … well … satisfied you?"
She put her arms around my waist. "I am very happy … and, yes, very satisfied, as if you have to ask. It's just that I get so turned on watching you fight … and Duke fight … and when I see both of you in the ring, pounding on each other trying to prove who is the best man, both of your bodies, both of you getting hard inside your trunks …"
She probably didn't even realize she had slid over a few inches and was slowly rubbing the crotch of her jeans against my leg. She did realize it when she put her hand down her jeans.
"Ohhhhh, god, I get so wet just thinking about it."
She quickly ran to the bathroom, and I could hear her moaning in there moments later. So much the better that she didn't need me to get her off this time, I thought … after last night, I'm not sure how much I'd be able to pleasure her, and besides, my mind was racing elsewhere. I again had to go up against a guy that's a lot bigger and stronger than me, and I'd pretty much emptied my bag of tricks the last time. What could I possibly do to give me some kind of advantage this time?
I thought about that all week, and by Friday afternoon I still hadn't come up with many answers. But I was pretty sure Duke had some for me, especially after he watched my fight with Spider Johnson at the old gym. I may have won, but I didn't exactly cover myself with glory … and Spider was handing my head to me in the first part of that fight. Duke must have been licking his chops watching that.
Duke had probably been thinking rematch for the last four weeks, ever since he was out, flat on his back after our first bout, April's knee on his chest while she gave me a mind-blowing hummer … before she and I left him lying there and went back to the locker room for more erotic gymnastics. He knew what he'd lost, and had a good idea of what had been happening between April and I since then, so I figured he'd been the most motivated person on the planet for the past month.
All these thoughts were still going through my head when I started getting my gear together early Friday afternoon, figuring I'd nap a while before the night … fight night, especially since we didn't have the gym until nine. I was trying on a new set of white trunks I'd bought – between the Duke and Spider fights, the blood stains were too much for my old favorites – when April walked out of the bathroom. She had just showered and dried her hair, and was wearing a short white terry robe tied at the waist to accentuate her lovely curves. It didn't take long to figure out that she had nothing on underneath since the bottom of her butt was peeking out.
"God, you look so good in those," she said as she started running both hands over the bright white satin. "Ooooo, and nothing underneath … just like I like it."
My brain was screaming no, I was likely in for the fight of my life that night and I needed all the energy I could muster. But the brain was no match for the libido … just like my cock was no match for April's hands, and I had a huge erection and was leaking pre-cum before she jerked my trunks down.
I pushed her back on the bed, where she landed on her back, and I jerked the terry-cloth belt on her robe to open it up and expose her in all her glory. Even after being with her for most of a month, I was still mesmerized by her body … breasts that were almost too perfect, her toned abs and wonderfully-rounded butt, stunning legs. Her blond hair was tousled and spread on the bed. I could not imagine a sexier creature ever existed.
"You are so damned incredible," was all I could say before diving in and letting April lock those legs around me. This time, it was my turn to be almost insatiable, since I somehow found inner reserves of orgasmic ability and stayed hard enough, long enough to make her scream out several times.
"Ohhhhh, yesssssss," more than once. "Give it to me, champ … harder, HARDER …. God, don't you dare stop … ohhh, fuck yeahhh."
Maybe both of us knew that a big night was ahead, because what turned out to be our final intimate session was comparatively short – intense, but not nearly the marathons that we'd enjoyed. Both of us pretty much napped the rest of the day before getting ready to head to the gym.
I was finishing packing up when April walked out in the red velvet dress that she wore so magnificently when I first saw Duke fight and first saw her ringside, and the heels she called her "fuck me pumps." To say she was stunning was an understatement, even though she wasn't having to impress anybody tonight. It would only be the three of us this time.
We got to the gym a little after 8, and it was pretty deserted … the manager and maybe two other boxers working out. He told us the others would be leaving soon, as would he, and he gave April the front-door key.
"Duke's already in the back," he said. "He's been here for a while."
April walked toward the locker rooms. I walked over to the ring for a second, just looking around, before I headed down the hallway. When I got to the hallway, I saw signs once again on the locker room doors – one reading "Champion" and one "Challenger."
Guess I've got the champ's one this time, I thought, and walked in with my equipment bag.
There was nothing unusual inside, except for a note on the training table. "Remember, nothing under the trunks," it said.
I had finished putting on my boots and trunks when April walked in and immediately grabbed the wraps and tape and started wrapping my hands.
"You been over there?," I asked, nodding toward the other locker room.
"Oh, yeah," April said. "He's ready … now."
I wasn't sure exactly what that meant, but neither one of us said anything else while she finished wrapping me. She then dug in my bag, pushed the safer 10-ounce gloves aside and pulled the white 8-ounce ones out. After holding them to the bare skin above her breasts and breathing in heavily for a few seconds, she deftly slipped them on my hands and I held them against her chest as she laced and taped them up.
"You ready, champ?," she said. "Come out when you hear the timer." She quickly walked out, I assumed to help Duke finish getting ready. I tried to walk around and finish limbering up, shadow boxing and shaking out my arms to try to get rid of the nervousness that was making it hard to breathe. I remember being nervous the last time, but it wasn't like this. Now I had something I didn't want to lose … but the nerves were still there when I heard the timer go off.
I walked out to the ring, and saw April standing at ringside as I climbed through the ropes. She hit the timer again, and while I was trying to stay loose I saw Duke come walking from the locker room.
His trunks and gloves were bright red, and the bright color made him look even bigger than he was – and he was already plenty big. More than that, though, was the look on his face – total focus and determination.
And, in contrast to our first bout, when he said a total of four words the whole time we were in the ring, Duke started talking as soon as we met at mid-ring.
"I'm going to beat you up bad, little man," he said. "You caught me off guard last time … hope you enjoyed these last few weeks, because you won't be around her any more after this. You won't be much good to anybody once I finish with you."
"If you think you can, big man, bring it on," I said as we stepped close together … before April put her hands in between and moved us back.
"OK, boys, same as last time," she said. "Two-minute rounds with two minutes in between, and only a knockout can end it. I don't see either one of you quitting, but if you do the other can continue until there's a knockout. Best man wins…so shake and come out fighting."
"I'm coming out fighting," Duke said as he hammered down on my gloves, "and someone's going to have to carry you out of here."
He turned and went to his corner, while I stepped backward and kept watching. Why all the talk now … did April tell him something about how much the trash talk distracted me when she watched me fight Spider Johnson? Or is he just trying to intimidate me?
At this point it didn't matter, as April had already slipped through the ropes – how she walked so easily on the canvas in heels like that, I didn't know – and set the timer, taking her spot next to the apron and grabbing, almost caressing the bottom rope.
DING, DING!

+++++++++

I still didn't have a plan even when I stepped out toward mid-ring, but I figured that Duke would start out the way he'd started our last fight – patient, working the middle of the ring and conserving energy. I was right there, as he stepped out in a classic stance and almost appeared to be waiting for me with a malevolent look on his face.
This was not the time to get into a slugfest, so I began slowly circling left and flicking out jabs toward Duke's highly-held gloves. He still had some scarring above his right eye where he'd been sliced open in our first meeting, and he kept his right high and firmly planted against his temple.
My jabs weren't having much effect … about all they were doing is making noise when they hissed off Duke's own leather. But I had also been able to stay away from his early head attack, slipping the jab and blocking his right hand with my left.
That was before he quickly dropped down with a straight left that split my elbows and landed hard on my waistband with a dull "thud." It caught me by surprise – everything until then had been aimed at my head – and also caused a quick flinch since it didn't hit far above my still-hard member, a by-product of being around April pre-bout.
I stepped back and Duke came right at me, and we clinched just off the ropes. Actually, it was less a clinch than me bent halfway over and grabbing the big guy almost around the waist. I was more stunned than I originally thought, a dull feeling in the pit of my stomach, and it didn't help that Duke was raining lefts and rights on my head and shoulders as I hung on.
Eventually I was able to move up and pin his arms in a vice grip, and we wrestled for a few seconds as he tried to push me off.
"One in the gut and you're done, huh?," Duke said during the clinch. "You must've gotten soft the last few weeks."
"Nah…pretty much hard the whole time," I came back. "Just ask her."
Duke tried to pull his arms away again. "You little shit … I am going to beat you up bad…"
I finally broke the hold, and Duke tried a right hand over the top that I ducked under. That left his right side open, and I pivoted and landed a solid left hook just below his rib cage. It was the same punch that I'd hurt him with late in our last fight, and I felt it dig in again and felt the "woosh" of air that came out around Duke's mouthpiece.
This time, it was his turn to step back. But instead of pressing in, I stayed away and smiled.
"How'd that feel," I said. All Duke did was return to his boxing stance at mid-ring, put the scowl back on his face and flexed his left glove, waving me in like a dare. Not right now, I thought, and I kept a distance between us until the timer went off.
I swung out the stool in my corner and sat down, and April was right behind me with a towel. I realized that I was sweating up a storm, with sweat running down my face and chest before she toweled it off. My trunks were already soaked and the flesh color was easily visible on – and between – my legs. That's probably why April kneeled down close.
"Doing good, baby," she said. "Don't get in a hurry … do what you do and you'll be okay."
I still felt a dull ache in my lower abs from Duke's punch, but otherwise I did feel okay considering that he landed a lot more bigger shots than I did in the first round. But I knew I didn't want to keep exchanging with him, and I thought about changes as I watched April walk across the ring.
When she got to Duke's corner, I realized for the first time that her red velvet dress matched Duke's trunks and gloves almost exactly. Coincidence? I quit associating anything April did with coincidence a while ago. She was kneeling in front of him, and instead of watching me like he usually did he was listening intently to what April was saying.
When the bell rang for round 2, I came out southpaw, with my right shoulder pointed at my opponent to try to throw him off. It had worked well in our first fight, and I figured changing back and forth was a good strategy. That would negate his jab some, but I would have to be careful of his big right hand.
Still, the ability to throw lead rights from a short distance helped, and I started peppering Duke's head with those rights and stepping back out of range. Every time he would cock his left to jab, I was able to get there first with the right, and they either pushed his glove back into his face or split them and hit my target.
Bap … bap … bap … my lead right kept hitting home. One flattened Duke's nose and a couple landed on his cheekbones, causing him to blink, and when he tried to counter I had time to either lean back or block with my left. I could tell Duke was frustrated, and was hoping that frustration would lead to a mistake … which happened more quickly than I figured.
I had just snapped off another right that hissed off Duke's left cheekbone, and I saw him start to lean forward and throw the right, which I leaned away from as it whistled by my jaw and left an opening. I stepped forward and threw a left hook, and with Duke leaning in it clipped him square on the jaw and sent spit and sweat flying.
Duke was stunned and his legs went rubbery for a moment as I moved in, throwing wide-swinging lefts and rights at his head to try to take advantage. Duke had his gloves high, but some of those shots got through, as did quick uppercuts from each side that got below his guard and snapped his head up.
Shocked with my good fortune, with every punch I threw seemed to be making good contact, I kept up the attack as Duke stumbled back into a neutral corner. I stood right in front, punching for all I was worth, and every punch in my barrage echoed around the gym. For the first time I heard April banging on the ring apron and yelling, "Yeah, yeah, get him…get him!"
A few more lefts and rights finally forced Duke to roll off the ropes and land on his hip on the canvas. I had put the big man down again, and it was only the second round.
"Who's beating who up now," I hissed as I stepped back … but only a step or two, since I'd learned from the first fight that without a referee, going all the way to a neutral corner wasn't the smartest thing. "Get up, chump … I'm just gettin' started beating on you."
Duke was quickly up on one knee and covered up as he rose. I tried to continue the attack, but he tied me up with his arms and all I could manage were some short choppy blows to his sides that did no damage. But I did see a couple of blood drops come from Duke's nose and some redness around his eyes. I was still trying to work out of the bearhug when the timer went off.
It was just as well … my arms were dead from all the punching and I needed the break as much as Duke did. I went back to my corner and tried to shake my arms out while watching April tend to Duke, but in a second I leaned back against the ropes – and I didn't even see April walk across the ring until she had straddled one of my legs and sat down on my knee.
"God, you get me so hot when you start firing all those shots," she said as she toweled off my face and chest. "Just watching you hit someone, hurting them and putting them down … mmmmmm … keep it going, champ."
She was rubbing her crotch against my knee and leg as she talked, and I knew watching the first two rounds had given her pussy plenty of opportunities to get wet and wild. She kept rubbing until the warning buzzer, when she quickly rose and high-heeled her way through the ropes without saying another word.
I moved out quickly at the bell for Round 3, but Duke was back to his battle plan, taking mid-ring and cutting off the ring. He looked none the worse for wear despite the punishment from Round 2 except for redness above and below his right eye, and he held his guard high. Strong son of a bitch, I thought, because I'd hit him with everything I had.
In fact, it was now Duke that started snapping out quick jabs, getting off before I had a chance to react with my lead right and popping into the right side of my face and right eye. One went flush in the eye socket and caused me to see stars and back up, circling left again.
So much for me being the aggressor, at least for a while, as each of us sized up the other and waited for a chance to do damage. Duke was beginning to slowly press forward, but I kept shooting out the lead right and pushing his gloves and head backwards while keeping my left high – a good thing, since a couple of his strong right crosses thudded into my left glove instead of my temple, but still had enough on them to turn me almost sideways.
I blocked another of those rights and countered with a straight right that got above his left glove and hammered home square in Duke's face, and I could feel his nose in my glove and could tell the punch did some damage. I followed with a left uppercut to the body and quickly doubled up, but Duke quickly stepped back and covered up as blood began flowing from his nose and down into his mouth.
I tried to press my advantage and aimed another uppercut at the bloody nose, but Duke turned his head and … BAM! A thunderous right hand dug into the left side of my body under the rib cage. Duke had pivoted after my miss and put all his weight into the right, and it felt like it went all the way to my backbone. My "unnnhhhh" now echoed off the walls.
I halfway bent over and instinctively pulled my left arm down, and Duke expected that and bounced a quick right-left combination flush on both sides of my face as I stumbled backward against the ropes. The gym's loose ropes acted like a trampoline and propelled me forward as Duke landed a powerful left hook on my forehead that spun my head to the side – where a right cross awaited and landed flush on my chin, literally lifting me off the canvas.
I didn't realize I was going down until I landed flat on my back, looking up at the light bulbs strung above the ring and trying to get my bearings. In an instant, some of those bulbs were blocked out as Duke's outline came into focus. I could see him looking down at me and his fists ready at his waist, waiting for me to get up, and with my back on the canvas I could feel a pounding noise and knew it was April, beating the canvas with her hands and rubbing herself against the edge of the ring apron, getting herself off once again at the sight of one of her fighters putting the other one down.
"Stay there if you don't want to get hurt," I heard Duke say right as the bell sounded ending the round. He walked away, and I hadn't even thought about getting up until April grabbed one of my gloves and began pulling me up. I grabbed her and the ropes and between the two started slowly making my way toward my corner, and April pulled the stool out and guided me down.
She saw I was still dazed, and began squirting water on my face and down my back, and as I started focusing my eyes on her she grabbed my waistband and squirted more down into my crotch. The cold did help me revive a little.
"Hey … hey … HEY," she said as she lightly slapped my face. "Look at me, right here," as she pointed to her own eyes. "You gotta snap out of this. Breathe and focus … "
Slowly the haze began to lift, but with it came pain from a big welt above my right eye, courtesy of Duke's left hook in the one-two that put me on my back. I could feel it already swelling as April toweled off my face and held the water bottle against it.
"You gotta protect yourself this round … give you some time to recover," she said as she stood up and doused me one more time before walking across the ring.
It didn't seem like two minutes had passed when the timer went off, but I slowly rose and waited for the bell. Stay away, was all I could think, and grab and hold on for a while.
Duke certainly knew that was my plan, and he came out quickly at the bell and cut the ring off as he pressed forward, already throwing wide lefts and rights as I covered up. But he was too anxious and I was able to block most of his punches while connecting with a couple of jabs to thwart his charges.
The first time Duke bored his way in, I was able to wrap him up as he pushed me back against the ropes and I slipped away. I should have done the same thing the second time, but I tried to blunt his attack with a combo of my own that he blocked with his left, and out of nowhere he tagged me with another brutal right hand just below my navel, right on the soaking-wet waistband.
The blow all but paralyzed me and I quickly covered in almost a standing fetal position against the ropes. Duke knew he had hurt me several times with body shots and we were still early in the fourth round, and that's where he began hammering with both hands, knowing that I was in no condition to counter or punch back. Most of his biggest shots bounced off my arms and elbows that were tightly tucked in, but several pounded into my kidney areas, and I could feel Duke gradually beating all the wind out of me.
It was as if Duke was saving my head for his later enjoyment, as all of his punches rained in at my body and chest. My ab muscles were weakening against Duke's onslaught and my chest throbbed as his gloves hissed across my nipples. I felt more blood on my arm and realized one of Duke's gloves had ripped across one nipple, slicing it open.
Duke was bending low, one of his knees almost on the canvas, as he dug into my lower abs. Finally he doubled up on uppercuts to my bent-over body and I went crashing down again, my head landing just in front of his red boots.
I don't know how long I stayed in that position, both knees folded against my chest on the mat and my forehead on the canvas, my arms wrapped around my sore body, but Duke never moved his feet. I couldn't see him, but I could picture him standing and waiting for me, in no hurry now that he was fully in control. And I could hear April screaming, "Yes, yes … more, more … get him, baby!"
Eventually I came up onto my knees, still instinctively keeping my arms near my body, and staring straight ahead into Duke's crotch. He was sweating as heavily as I was, from the exertion of his punch-fest, and his hard manhood was straining against his soaked trunks. He's enjoying this, my subconscious mind thought, and if I didn't do something soon he was going to enjoy it even more.
As I stood I tried to grab Duke around his arms and waist, but I only collared his right arm. His left was free, and using his own chest to pin me, he pounded the right side of my face with repeated chopping lefts. None of them covered much more than six inches, but in the position my head was in they all hit home.
I felt the welt over my right eye rip open against the leather of Duke's glove and blood began rolling down into my eye and down the side of my face. He must have hit me a dozen times in the same spot before I was able to get my gloves up to cover my face and stagger backwards into my own corner.
Duke had me helpless there, almost sitting on the middle rope, but before he could take even more advantage the timer went off to end the fourth round. But instead of backing off, Duke stood there, admiring his handiwork.
"Don't stand up again, or I will fuck you up bad," he taunted. "You think it hurts now … you come back out here and I'll beat you within an inch of your life."
April finally stepped in between and pushed Duke back, cradled me against her and managed to maneuver my butt off the ropes and onto the metal stool that she swung out. She immediately jammed the towel against my eye, and when she pulled back it was soaked with blood – a lot of it – and I felt it instantly pour down my face and into my eye again.
"Hang on, baby," was all she said as she jammed an ice pack against my head. "Hold this here as long as you can."
At that point it was an exertion just to hold a glove up to my head and keep pressure on the ice pack, but I did that until well after the warning buzzer sounded. I threw it out of the ring as the Round 5 bell sounded, and had just gotten off my stool when Duke appeared right in front of me.
I didn't see the left hook that thundered against my eye, causing blood to spurt out and leave a trail across Duke's chest … or the follow-up right that crashed off my jaw and bounced me back down on the swinging metal stool before I fell off and landed face-down, my face falling on one of my formerly-white gloves that were now almost entirely a sticky maroon.
A pool of blood formed under my eye as I tried to push myself up to get my head off the canvas. By chance, I was looking right at April … but she wasn't looking my way. Instead, she was looking up at Duke, who was still towering over me, and was obviously enjoying the view since she had one hand firmly between her legs, rubbing away.
"Fuck him up more, champ," she said. "Oooohhhh, god … fuck him up for me."
I figured I was done, not getting up this time, and was starting to feel light-headed maybe from the blood loss. But Duke, almost on cue, stepped in front of me, grabbed me under both arms with his gloves and stood me up, leaning me against the corner pad and draping my arms over the top ropes.
"I told you not to get up," he said …. "you brought this on yourself."
Since I was completely unprotected, Duke could have sent me back to the canvas out cold with one more big punch. Instead, he took a fighter's stance right in front of me – I could see the streak of blood from my eye still across his chest – and proceeded to start throwing half-effort punches to my body and head. It was the type of punches that a fighter would use when warming up on the heavy bag and working on technique more than power – not hard enough to put me down, but hard enough to hurt when they made contact.
He wanted to abuse me … drag out the pain as long as possible.
Pop … pop … pop … jabs to the forehead. Hooks to the body that landed with a "thump, thump" … crosses from both sides that knocked my head back and forth … and straight rights and lefts right to my chest, literally beating the air out of my lungs.
"Unhhhhh …. Unhhhh … no more, no more, pleeeeease," I strained to get out, and looked up. That's when I saw April standing in the middle of the ring, a few feet behind Duke's massive back.
"Too late for begging," Duke said. "You should have thought of that when you were sticking it to her …"
On cue, April stepped in and jerked my trunks down to my ankles. That's when Duke began moved his punches lower, eventually to the point where he was knocking my cock and balls back and forth like a miniature speed bag – again, not hard enough to incapacitate, but hard enough to make pain soar through my crotch and abdomen every time his glove made contact. It didn't help that I was somehow fully erect despite this abuse.
"Don't ever think about using this on her again," he hissed as he continued his crotch mauling until hot milky liquid squirted out with every punch. Duke had quite literally beaten the piss and cum out of me.
He stepped back for a second with his hands on hips and April standing right behind, her reaching around and caressing his chest with one hand and stroking his crotch with the other. But the respite only lasted a second, as Duke stepped forward again and began pistoning lefts and rights into my abdomen like a machine. They started like his most recent punches, at about half-effort, but gradually increased in strength as the dull sounds of leather hitting skin bounced around the gym walls. I could almost feel Duke's knuckles inside those 8-ounce gloves, the knuckle points pounding into my internal organs as I retched onto the canvas and started to slide off the ropes.
Duke again caught me under the arms and re-hung my limp body on the top ropes.
"Time for you to get knocked out," he said, and repeated his piston-like attack on my face – again continually increasing in tempo and strength. Blood was spurting out of both my eye and nose and my eyes were swollen to the point that I only saw slits … enough to see the next punch coming, and little else. I didn't see the last four punches … a combination of lefts and rights that knocked me sideways and the last one sending me bouncing off the ropes and pitching toward the middle of the ring, landing flat on my back out cold….
I don't know how long it was, but when I began to come around I could tell that Duke was still standing there, but in the haze it seemed like he had removed one of his gloves and his arm was hanging down. But as consciousness came back, I could make out two gloves still hanging at Duke's sides and was trying to figure out how he had a third arm.
But as things got clearer, I realized it wasn't an arm. April had removed Duke's trunks and was in the middle of a hand job that had swelled his manhood to monster proportions, and I realized she had one knee on my chest … the same position she'd taken over Duke after our first fight.
"Wake up, baby," she said as I blinked to clear my eyes. "You were fun for a while. But by now you realize that I needed something a little … bigger."
She laughed as she looked up at Duke, and began caressing his log-like member with her lips. As she did, she pushed down with her knee on my beaten-up chest and ground one of her heels into my flaccid crotch. She laughed as I passed out again from the new-found pain, my eyes swollen shut.
The last thing I heard was that laugh … and then a moan … and then one phrase – "mmmmm, you're so big, champ" … and one last moan …

END PART FOUR

APRIL'S OFFER – PART 3
Ever hear the cliché about how quickly things can change?
I'm living proof of that … although right now living, moving, even breathing, involves a lot of pain.
Four weeks ago, I had won the affections of quite possibly the most perfect woman ever, and the passion and excitement between the two of us was beyond anything I'd ever experienced.
Two weeks later, that woman watched me go back to my old gym and win a fight against an opponent who used to enjoy beating me on a regular basis. Her excitement just from watching me win made it a legendary evening.
Then, less than 24 hours later, she and another stunning woman were in the ring, duking it out over me in the most erotic boxing match I ever saw.
It's safe to say it was the most sensual stretch of my life.
So what happened? Why was I now lying in this hospital bed, my eyes swollen almost shut, my face and body sliced up, my insides rearranged and everything above the waist black and blue? That perfect woman … gone, probably for good, along with most of my self-esteem.
It happened so quickly, it was almost like a dream … except that the last 24 hours turned into less a dream and more of a nightmare. But it wasn't just in my mind – I still had the photo that she gave me when the whole thing started, and I definitely had the bruises that came when it all ended. Those were proof that it all did actually happen.
I've replayed it in my mind a hundred times, and it always comes out the same ….

++++++

The phone rang early, way too early considering everything that had happened the previous two days. I had already informed work that I was taking a sick day for the Monday, even though I wasn't really ill. Exhausted, yes … an emotional boxing match and 36 hours in April's company would wear down any man.
She had also arranged for a free day, and we were looking forward to a relatively quiet day with each other, in contrast to the previous two days that included body pounding of various types.
Both of us were still asleep when the phone rang, and I fumbled for the receiver before immediately recognizing the voice.
"Hey, we need another fighter for next week," was the operative sentence in the conversation.
My old gym held "challenge" bouts with another gym every month, alternating as hosts on a Saturday night, where boxers at most of the weight classes would square off with fighters from the other gym. Tickets were sold and the hat was passed after good bouts, and the gym and the local charities split the take. It helped both groups' budgets, but for the two gyms, it was honor on the line more than anything else. We wanted to prove our gym had the better fighters.
I still had a membership there even though the gym I'd met April in – and the one where I had "won" her in the private match with Duke – was probably going to become my regular haunt. But I still had an allegiance to a lot of the guys in my old gym.
And they were without a middleweight for the bouts scheduled in two weeks – one had a previously-scheduled surgery and would be unavailable, and the other had cracked a bone in his hand in a sparring session over the weekend. I was the only guy available that was around 160. If I didn't do it, they'd have to get somebody to step up in weight class … way up, apparently.
I thought to myself, hell, I just fought a guy 100 pounds heavier than me … how much difference could 15 or 20 pounds make? But I didn't say anything … and I remembered how highly motivated I was for that fight. I looked over my shoulder – April's bare leg was sticking out from under the sheet, which was also snug against her body and showed a wonderful set of curves – just to remember that motivation.
After agreeing, I hung up the phone and pulled the sheet back over us. One glimpse of her naked body and her blonde hair free on the pillow pretty much got rid of the exhaustion, and holding her in my arms made my lower body catch up with my brain in the waking-up process.
"What was that about," she said in a half-talk, half-yawn mumble.
"You want to watch me fight next week?," I asked, my face only a couple of inches from hers.
"REALLY?," she said, quickly waking up. "God, I was just dreaming about watching you in the ring … the crowd was yelling and you were pounding someone, you'd knock him down, he'd get up and you'd knock him down again, over and over, you standing there over him, fists cocked and ready … God, I was so turned on."
"Of course, you were naked," she added, as she reached between my legs and found my fully-awake member. "It was bouncing around so much, and all I remember was wanting it inside me."
She rolled over on top of me, the sheet still around her shoulders, but I had a perfect view of April in all her glory as she ground herself against me a couple of times before taking me inside her.
"Let's see if dreams can come true again," she said. I remember thinking, before the passion took both of us over, that mine had already.

++++++

In the excitement of the moment, I forgot to ask about opponents, and if my buddy knew who I was matched up against for the club challenge. So that night, I called back and asked.
"Guy named Spider Johnson," he said. "Don't know if you know him or not."
"Yeah, I know him," I said before I hung up. Spider Johnson, huh … and some of my excitement went away. I'd squared off with him before, a couple of years earlier, on one of these cards, and he pretty much sliced me to ribbons before it was over. And he'd done that to a lot of other people, too.
At 6-foot-2, the black guy was incredibly tall for a middleweight, and had long arms and legs that made him appear even taller. He was also very good at using that height and reach to his advantage, pistoning out jabs and follow-up right hands from a distance where regular-sized middleweights couldn't effectively counter-attack without taking several punches in return.
He was also good at twisting his hands just at the point when his punches connected, which created a lot of redness in best-case scenarios and huge cuts in worst-case since his gloves would rub hard against the skin. When we fought earlier, I was bleeding in three places around my eyes and I was bright red in several other places.
And don't confuse his scarecrow look for weakness. He had plenty of power in both hands, mostly because of his arm length. But more irritating than his twisting gloves or long arms was his mouth … he talked constantly during fights, always with something to say when clinched up. If he was controlling the fight, it was non-stop and really got under his opponent's skin … which, of course, he used to his advantage.
The whole secret was getting inside and working the body – not the easiest of tasks, given his jab, but most of the fights he's lost have been to guys that have stayed close and muscled him. If it's possible to have a glass abdomen instead of a glass jaw, that was Spider Johnson.
Still, it's hard to greedily anticipate a fight when you figure you're going to get cut up. I told April there was a chance I'd have a few cuts and scrapes after this one – she knew enough about the fight game where she would have figured it out eventually – and that piqued her interest even more.
"I LOVE the blood," she said, "the bruises … the beatings when one fighter takes control of the other. That just gets me SOOOOO hot."
"I want to be close so I can see the bruises, so I can feel the canvas and touch the blood when it falls … so I can hear the leather pounding against flesh, and smell the sweat. Mmmmmm …."
She slowly licked her lips, and I swear I saw her shudder for a second. God, was she hot ….
"Who's this guy you're fighting, anyway?," April said, and when I told her Spider Johnson, her face went blank for a couple of seconds … and I saw a big grin break out on her face as she turned and looked out the window.
"What's up," I said. "You know him?"
"Yeah, I know him … I know him REALLY well," she said as she turned back toward me, still grinning and with a look on her face that said she was enjoying what she was thinking about.
She saw me look at her strangely.
"If you must know, he was my lover for a long time," she said, " …. about the best I ever had."
Now it was my turn for a blank expression.
"Don't take that wrong, baby," she said as she put her hand around my neck. "I love being with you … I really do. But when I was with Spider, it was … different. I'd look at that beautiful black frame, those long arms and legs, the way he moved in the ring, so angular … god, I love watching him box."
She had that dreamy look on her face again.
"And you know how he talks in the ring? I told him to do the same to me in bed … tell me how great a lover he was and how great his cock was, tell me what a terrible fuck I was and that I didn't deserve to have him … I know it sounds weird, but when he'd start trash-talking it was like I'd really turn it up, kinda to show him how good I was. It really got me hot, and I would just rock his world to the point that he couldn't do much for a day or so."
"Guess I really need to come up with some put-down lines for you," I said, managing a grin despite the rest of me being shaken. " … since you are just the worst lay ever."
Now both her hands were around my neck.
"Doesn't work for you, baby," she said. "That's not your personality … and I don't need you to trash-talk to get me going. All I have to do is look at you, think about you in that ring … it makes me just want to explode.
"I don't need you to be like Spider … " she said as she walked out of the room, " … although he did have the biggest and thickest cock ever."
I hadn't moved much, still a little in shock, when April walked back in not five minutes later.
"You think they need a round card girl?," she abruptly asked. "That way, I could be right there in the ring, getting a good look at you and keeping you hard and motivated … knowing what was waiting after you beat Spider up, watching your fists pound into that big black body and putting him on the floor."
My first thought was that maybe she wanted to get another close-up look at that cock … or that beating Spider up wasn't a given, and it could well be my blood she might orgasm over. But those were quickly replaced by a mental picture of April strutting around the ring in stiletto heels and some outfit that didn't include much material, left little to the imagination and showed off her terrific body. Maybe a few people might even notice the numbers on the round cards.
I'll admit, the thought of walking into my old gym, my old stomping grounds, with this incredible woman on my arm was already pretty appealing to me. But the thought of her being there in the ring, and people knowing she was there with me and I was there with her, was almost too good to be true.
I quickly called my buddy back – it had been only 15 minutes since he ID'd my opponent – and told him I'd fill their middleweight spot on one condition … that April carried the cards for that fight, and was part of the card group the rest of the night. These bouts hadn't used card girls before, but I couldn't imagine anyone saying no – and if they did, all I had to do was send one picture of April and they'd change their minds.
"OK, you're the card girl," I said to her when I hung up the phone. "You have anything to wear?"
"You mean I have to wear something," she said, laughing while she began fondling her breasts through her sweater. "You and Spider have both seen me naked … might as well let everyone else," she said as she pulled her sweater over her head, holding it up like a round card and displaying those stunning breasts and hard nipples.
I was on top of her in a heartbeat …

++++++

While April and I were busy wearing each other out, as only people who have new-found passion can, Duke was also in the process of recovering physically and mentally from our emotional private bout. The difference was that he was alone in the recovery process.
Except for the cuts around his right eye and some swelling, he hadn't been hurt that badly (I didn't have the power to do extensive damage) physically. Mentally was different … maybe it wasn't until the fight was over, and he'd silently dragged himself out of the gym and back home by himself, that he realized what he'd lost in our hour-long war.
He was determined – maybe borderline obsessed – with getting it back, and wanted that to happen quickly before the memories faded. He was going to hurt whoever stood in his way … hurt him badly.
There was going to be another fight, just the threesome again in the gym, and in his mind it was going to turn out much differently.
He went to work getting ready to make that happen.

++++++

Two weeks went by in what seemed like only a heartbeat. April and I spent some time together despite our work schedules, and a couple of times we wound up at the gym at the same time. That was almost fitting, I thought.
I, of course, was trying to stay sharp for the club challenge fight against Spider Johnson. April was there only on occasion to work out, punching the heavy bag just like the first night I laid eyes on her.
Maybe it was my vanity, but I hoped she was there to watch me … checking out the goods, as it were. That didn't matter, since my blood raced both times I saw her walk in, and I certainly took more than my share of breaks on those days just to watch her.
I had one last light workout on the Friday, the day before the club challenge, and was hoping to spend a quiet evening at home cuddled up with April. But as I was finishing up, April came in the gym and told me she had a friend who'd just come into town that she needed to spend time with, and that she'd come and see me late tonight.
"Don't wait up," she said and winked as she quickly turned and left.
Well, I can still have a relaxing night, I thought, and get ready for a fight the next night.
It turns out April was getting ready for that fight, too. I didn't find out until later, but the friend she was spending time with was Spider Johnson.
And I had a very unexpected visitor that evening, too. A knock at the door woke me from dozing on the couch, and when I answered I was greeted by a familiar face. And a familiar body, one that almost strutted through the door. Carla was just as stunning as I'd remembered.
"Surprised to see me?," she said.

++++++

Fight Saturday finally arrived, and I was laying out my equipment and packing my bag early that day when April walked into the bedroom. She didn't say anything, just strode over and began running her hands over the white satin trunks that were on the bed – the same trunks I'd worn against Duke, and then again the next day when April put me on the canvas in a completely different way. They still had some faint blood stains, but had become my good luck charm and I needed that luck for this one.
She picked up my white gloves – again, same as the fight with Duke – and held them under her nostrils, clutching them to her chest as she breathed in deeply, sensually. With my boots already in the bag, that was about all the equipment I needed … the two gyms had agreed, by popular demand, that fighters would "man" up for the challenge, without protectors or jock straps. Trying to entice the female fans, I guessed … and wondered if April might have had something to do with the agreement. I had long since learned to put nothing past her when it came to the boxing game, and she had already provided the details on Spider's impressive equipment.
I could have taken her or she could have taken me right there, but we both knew the timing sucked … she knew how important this fight was to me, and I wanted nothing else but to impress her. There would be plenty time for both of us to "knock out" the other later.
But she did lean over and kiss me deeply, and said, "Guess it's time for me to get my equipment together."
I smiled – thinking, of course, that her equipment was about as together as anyone I'd ever seen – as she walked out of the room. I finished packing my bag and changed clothes, and was about to walk out when April came back into the bedroom, wearing my long robe.
"Do you think this will work for tonight, champ?," she said as she slowly opened her robe and put her hands on her hips.
Oh, my God …
A red bikini top that was cut in the middle all the way to the strap and showed her lovely cleavage to its utmost … blue bikini bottom that looked painted on – April was no rail-thin model type, she had real curves and just about everything she wore made those curves look perfect – and what had to be five-inch stiletto heels. Around her neck, she had a dark red bow tie covered with red sequins, which sparkled when they caught the light … kind of like her eyes.
So much for timing …. Who could resist something that looked like that? I knew I had to keep my strength up, but I could at least pleasure her, and while I was removing the blue bottoms I found myself hoping this was the only time tonight I'd wind up on my knees. For her part, April stood there on those widely-spread stilettos, hands on hips, while my tongue went to work … the only danger was getting my tongue seared by her heat.
After all, it's important to warm up properly before a fight …

++++++

We walked into the gym about 30 minutes before the first bout, and I introduced April to the gym manager who was organizing the night's activities. After getting over his initial tongue-tied state – April had that effect on a lot of people when they saw her for the first time – he told her how glad he was to have her and immediately put her in charge of that night's fundraising.
The gym had taken our idea of ring girls one step further, and had recruited two other stunning women to work the crowd and collect charity donations along with carrying the ring cards. Between the boxers' cock displays as the sweat began flowing, and the barely-clothed women in the crowd, the gym had impressive enticements for both the female and male spectators. This was destined to be the gym's biggest-ever fundraiser.
While April was filling her new role, I headed to the ancient locker room to put up my gear, and then came out to find a seat in the back to relax and watch the early bouts. There were nine scheduled, and mine was scheduled for the seventh.
The gym folks had done a good job of spreading the word, and by the time the first bout started every seat was gone and people were standing behind the seats. Eventually they were standing four and five deep … a huge crowd in such a small place. The concession table was doing a brisk business, and I was sure that April and her crew would do well with donations. It was going to be a good night for the gym and the charities … now I had to do my part, which was a lot tougher.
April? The first time she stepped into the ring, between rounds 1 and 2 of the opening bout, with that colorful bikini and all that it entailed, the whistles and wolf calls were deafening. Most women would have been embarrassed. Her? She ate it up, and by the time she circled the ring her strut was making men in the crowd break out in a sweat. She knew exactly where I was seated, and as she gracefully climbed through the ropes before the bell she glanced over at me and winked.
Damn, just watching her for 30 seconds and getting that wink made me horny all over again. I had to start concentrating on Spider Johnson, or April would be spending the end of her evening trying to revive me.
The bouts went off pretty much without a hitch, and our gym was slightly ahead in wins when I went to the locker rooms to finish getting ready. But as I was walking to the back, I glanced to one side of the gym and saw a familiar face there watching the bouts – Duke.
I didn't know if he saw me on my way to the locker room, since he was watching the action in the ring. But he definitely knew I was there and that I was getting into the ring shortly. Was he there just as a boxing fan … or watch me and start picking out things he could use in a rematch that I knew would eventually come? Or was he going to create a scene here tonight? From what I'd gathered, he had too much class to do that … but he'd also lost a great prize, and that kind of loss can cause a man to slip out of character.
I didn't have time to worry about that at the moment. A couple of bouts had ended quickly, and it was getting close to our turn. I passed Spider Johnson in the hallway going to the locker room, and he only flashed a big toothy grin at me.
I had just finished putting my trunks and boots on and was wrapping my hands when April stuck her head through the door and then walked in.
"Hi," she said. "Just wanted to check and make sure you were okay and didn't need … anything."
"I think I'm good," I said. "Better now since you came in."
We both stood about six feet apart, eyeing each other up and down … April in her bikini, bow tie and heels, me in my boots and trunks that left little to the imagination. Suddenly we both began giggling like schoolgirls, like we were sharing a secret – the secret being that we both made each other SOOOOO hot …
She stepped over and lightly hugged me, I think just to see if she could feel an erection – she did – and said, "See you out there … and fuck him up for me, champ," before walking out.
I was certainly going to give it my best shot, and I had just finished wrapping and taping my hands when one of our gym guys came in to glove me up, an indication that we were up as soon as the bout in the ring ended. Almost on cue, I heard the crowd roar, and found out later one of my former gym mates had just dispatched his opponent in around 30 seconds, leaving him writhing on the canvas and holding his liver area.
That put our side up 4-2, so I knew when I walked out that if I won, it would assure our gym of winning. But at that moment, that wasn't my primary concern as I headed to the ring with two of my gym buddies who would work my corner.
Spider Johnson was already in the ring when I got there, dancing around in his all-silver trunks and shooting out jabs and crosses with the matching silver gloves. He looked taller than I remembered, and since his body looked as thin as a fence post he appeared even taller when we walked to mid-ring for instructions.
"Hey, boy, you ready for another whuppin …" he said after the referee finished. "I'm ready to give you one. Oooo, I'm gonna have me some fun … almost as much as I had last night when I fucked yo' woman goooood."
I didn't say anything, didn't think about it, really … just watched as I backed up to the corner, took the mouthpiece and waited for the bell. I did have a moment to glance at April, who was walking just inside the ropes carrying the "Round 1" card and whipping the crowd into a frenzy with every step. I also looked over to where I'd seen Duke earlier. He was still there, hadn't moved, and was also watching.
DING, DING …
I circled out to the left, figuring that Spider would try to establish his jab, and it didn't take long for him to begin pistoning out those left hands. I was able to block most of them away and responded a couple of times with jabs of my own, but I ate a couple of his jabs between my gloves each time I tried to follow my own lefts.
I tried to slip inside, but got tagged with an overhand right on the side of my head and grabbed Spider's arms as we clinched and backed into the ropes.
"Man, why don't you just fall down now," he hissed around his mouthpiece. "Save me some time and save you a lotta pain."
That pattern continued the entire first round – Spider jabbing, jabbing, jabbing, me trying to get inside and usually paying for that daring with Spider's gloves thumping off my head. When I did get close enough to do some damage, he would grab and hold on, usually wrapping an arm around my head – a six-inch height advantage helped – and using his other arm to punch my kidney areas, while I tried to get my arms free to punch inside, usually without success.
We were clinched for a long time, long enough for Spider to drop a bombshell … and it wasn't with his gloves.
"Oooo, good two days," he said as we struggled. "I take yo' woman last night and I whip you tonight." I tried to pull my arms free, but Spider held on. "Yeah, she told you she was visitin' a friend, huh," he spat out. "Well, she was visitin' between my legs … gettin' her some more Spider cock. Guess she can't get enuf of me … I know you ain't filling her up."
All this time, Spider's free hand was digging punches into my side. I was getting abused, physically and verbally, when the bell rang. I hadn't landed a single decent punch in the first round, and Spider let me know about it. "Take your white ass and sit over there," he said. "I'll be back to beat you up some more in a minute."
While my corner crew shouted instructions, I watched April walk around the ring – she had arranged to carry all the cards for this bout. She winked as she walked by my corner, but she also slowed down near Spider's corner. I couldn't tell if she said or did anything, but I saw him with that big toothy grin.
I was pretty sure Spider wasn't lying about April "visiting" him … the story about going to see a friend was too close to what she'd said. I wasn't sure how to feel about it … but I didn't have time to ponder the question too long right then.
I came out faster in the second round, only to have Spider's first jab hiss off one of my gloves and catch me painfully right in the nose. I was trying to jab myself, but all I was doing was pushing his gloves back into his face – at least I was accomplishing that. But every time I tried to pivot and step inside his guard, Spider would be a half-step ahead and catch me with a jab-cross combo that was starting to sound like a broken record – and feel like one.
Finally I bulled in and pushed him into the ropes, which swung well backwards over the apron as Spider held my arms and kept me now too close to get off with anything effective.
"Yo' woman's walking around in here with some fine titties," he said as he kept up the verbal sparring in the clinch. "They felt so goooood last night. After I finish fucking you up, may just have to fuck those some more, too … fuck her until those titties cave in."
I should have known better, but his words were getting to me, and I pulled my arms out of his clinch and swung wildly at his head. Spider was ready, ducked under both my left hook and right follow, and his feet, body and shoulders were in perfect position to throw a hard left under my right rib cage and follow with a right under my left ribs.
I went down like a shot, on all fours, gasping for breath as Spider's gloves felt like they squeezed all the air out of my lungs. Spider stood right on top of me, as the referee – surprised by the quick knockdown – was slow to step in.
"She said she was glad to have a real dick inside her," he hissed through his mouthpiece again, "and not that little limp thang you kept trying to stick in," before the referee could push him toward a neutral corner. Spider was still smiling down at me when the referee grabbed him around the waist, and I couldn't help but notice that his huge length and thickness was pushing out and tenting his trunks big-time. Damn, I thought, April was right …
He made a point to walk by where April was standing against the apron, and grabbed his crotch bulge with one hand and smiled at her. I watched her give him a quick smile … before turning toward me and giving a little shoulder shrug.
I was surprised, but I shouldn't have been. After all, April never hid her intentions … she had jumped from someone else's cock to mine on the result of my last fight, she'd apparently screwed the guy across the ring from me last night … and I suddenly realized that she might just dump me and move on tonight if I didn't get things back under control.
That quickly snapped my mind back to reality and probably helped force air back into my body … just in time, because the referee had already reached "seven" in his count even after guiding Spider to the far corner. I quickly stood, and by the time the referee had wiped my gloves Spider was on top of me again, determined to finish the job.
"Here I come again, white boy," he said on the way in. "Don't know if I want to put you down now, or just whip yo' ass until you just fall down."
This time, it was me doing the holding and clinching for the rest of the round, but Spider never came close to following up, at least with his gloves.
His mouth, though …
"Look over there, boy. Oooooeee, she got a sweet ass," he kept going. "May make you watch while I bang into that. Let her have it with some real man meat."
I was feeling better by the time the bell rang to end Round 2, but my corner guys didn't know that.
"You better take your mind off the girl or he's going to take you out," one of my buddies said – ironically, at the same time that April strutted by carrying "Round 3" and gave me a quick look that I couldn't distinguish between worry and confusion.
Time to change tactics, I thought. Going southpaw worked against Duke, so why not try it again? It'll take him time to adjust, and until that I can probably get some shots in.
At the bell, I took a southpaw stance with my right lead in front, and the first time Spider snapped off a jab I stepped back to avoid, and then pushed forward with a right hook over the top of his left. It connected right on his temple and sent sweat flying – my first decent punch of the fight.
Spider backed up blinking but kept flicking out the jab. Moments later, I again stepped back as a jab whizzed by, and landed another right hand to his open head, this time across the jaw, and I saw him shake his head to clear the cobwebs.
Throwing caution to the wind, I bored in, and the stance didn't matter as I flailed with lefts and rights. Only a few got through as Spider blocked, parried and grabbed, but some did as I was finally able to land some body shots. I could feel him shudder every time my right hand made it past the maze of his gloves and arms and crashed into his abdomen.
Spider grabbed and again pulled me close enough to thwart the body attack. "You ain't hurt me," he whispered. "You ain't shit." But I knew I had hurt him, and even more important I had found a way to counter his attack and get at his weak point inside. I could feel April beating on the ring apron and hear her yelling, "Yes, Yes, hit him again down there."
I kept hammering at his body, taking some shots in return, but now they weren't doing the damage I was doing to his abs and sides. Spider kept clinching and trying to hit me under the ribs again off the clinches, and late in the round I stepped in just as he swung a sweeping left hook. His left pounded into my groin and unprotected – and rigid – cock.
Unnnnnhhhhhh ….
I doubled over, went to both knees and grabbed my crotch as the pain shot through my entire body. The referee pushed Spider away and bent over me, yelling, "You all right?"
Hell, no, I thought, guy just crushed my cock and nuts, you think I feel all right? I stayed in a kneeling version of the fetal position for a couple of minutes before the intense pain finally started to lessen. I was ready to punch whoever's idea it was for these bouts to be sans protectors … as soon as I could stand up straight without wanting to vomit.
Since I had all the time I needed, I did some serious knee squats to take the pressure off, and the pain started slowly being replaced by numbness. It still didn't feel good, but at least the hurt was going away.
I looked over at Spider standing in the corner, and for once he was expressionless and wasn't talking. April, on the other hand, did have a look of concern on her face, so that was a positive sign … at least she wasn't yelling at Spider to crack my nuts again and render me useless, freeing her up to jump Spider's cock.
It probably took around five minutes, but I finally felt close to normal and told the referee I was ready, and he waved us back in. But the momentum I had built up early in the round was pretty much gone, Spider had recovered from the body punches I had gotten in, and it was back to the earlier pattern – Spider lashing out with the jab, me trying my best to slip them and get inside, and us clinching when I did force my way in.
It also didn't take Spider long to regain his voice the first time he grabbed me on a push inside and against the ropes.
"Your dick all swollen up now?," he grunted through the mouthpiece. "Maybe that help you please that fine woman, but you ain't getting' another chance. She said she still wants my big log bad, like she got it last night."
"The rest of you is gonna feel like yo' dick in a little while … or maybe I'll just bust yo' dick up a little more."
I wasn't in any mood to talk about cocks right then, and started flailing punches into his sides for a few seconds before the bell ended the third round.
I hit the stool quickly, and my corner guys pulled out my trunks and put an ice pack right on my groin. It likely dulled the pain even more, but the cold shock revived me – as did April, who stopped on her way by with the "Round 4" card and knelt down in front of me. That red bikini top was straining to keep her charms in tow when she leaned over.
"You all right, baby," she said. "Just try to relax. It's your turn now, champ. Go fuck him up for me."
"Great idea," I said, managing a little bit of a smile. "As soon as I get some feeling back below the waist, he's mine."
She smiled, stood up, and continued her rounds around the ring. I didn't see if she slowed down or stopped near Spider's corner, because my corner guy was in my face.
"Get over it," he said. "Time for you to get after this guy. Get physical and push him around … he doesn't want that."
I planned on doing that right from the Round 4 bell, but Spider's jab was still effective, and maybe even more so since he'd had a couple of extended rest breaks. He started taking dead aim between my gloves, and early in the round he caught me leaning forward with one of those glove-twisting pistons. I could feel it rake into and rip open the skin below my right eye, and I felt the blood begin to flow down my nose and into my mouth.
Spider smiled through his mouthpiece at the sight of my blood, and he intensified his jab attack as I got more and more frustrated. Soon he was splitting my gloves on a regular basis, and followed his jab with a slashing right that ripped the skin under my other eye. I didn't know how bad the cuts were, but I could feel even more blood running down my cheeks.
I had to keep my gloves high to protect my eyes from further damage, and Spider's continual jabs kept pushing my gloves back against my face and slowly turn them from bright white to a dull maroon. And because my hands were high, Spider started mixing in more looping body punches, and those long arms were able to generate enough force where I could feel the breath whoosh out of me every time he connected. Soon I was clinching as he backed me against the ropes.
"You quit now and I won't bust you open no more," Spider hissed as we struggled inside. "Maybe just hit you in the dick some more …. Nah, think I'll just keep cutting you up until you beg for Spider to stop."
The bell rang to end the round, and I hadn't even made it to the stool before my guys were covering my face with ice, the end-swell tool and Vaseline.
"You got to go get him right now," they said. "This is going to keep popping open and it's going to bleed enough where the referee is going to stop it before long."
I knew he was right, so I decided to throw caution to the winds and do nothing but attack until I couldn't go any more. April saw my wide-eyed look when she strutted by.
When the bell rang for Round 5, I almost ran across the ring and started throwing wide-swinging lefts and rights to get Spider to raise his gloves and defend his head. The bull-rush caught him by surprise, and he backed up and did exactly that, his gloves up at his temples.
I quickly pivoted inside, something I'd been trying to do for four rounds, but this time I was able to plant and dig a left hook under Spider's elbow and under his rib cage. I could feel his breath shoot out of his mouth with an "oooooffff," and I quickly doubled up with the left. When his arms moved that way, I shifted my weight and unloaded a big right hand that caught him directly in the solar plexus.
Spider doubled over, and likely would have gone to the canvas even without the chopping left hand that crashed into his jaw on the way down. But that left spun him and landed him on his side, and I quickly stepped back before the referee came in and began the count.
I could tell Spider was hurt since he had one arm and glove tucked in close to his side, and that protection was still there when he stood up. He was already retreating before the referee finished cleaning his gloves, and I rushed in to continue the body assault.
Spider tried to grab my arms, but they were a blur as I rained in punches, knowing that if I didn't finish it here I probably wouldn't get another chance. With Spider backed into the ropes, enough of those shots got through that I could feel him start to cave in, and soon he was sitting on the bottom rope before slipping to the canvas, still hugging his abdomen.
"Who's quitting now?," I yelled down at him. "Who's begging for me to stop?," before the referee stepped in and pushed me toward a neutral corner.
Spider made an effort to get up, but he was still trying to climb the ropes when the referee reached "10" and waved it off.
My corner guys were in the ring in a flash, hugging me, and April wasn't far behind, leaping into my arms and grabbing me around the neck. As she slid down and her heels dug into the canvas, she reached around with both hands and grabbed my ass, thrusting herself against me. Suddenly my groin didn't hurt as much anymore, but I was still miffed at her, if what Spider had bragged about was true.
"I knew you could do it, champ," she purred. "God, watching you pound into his body made me so hot. I could just rape you right here."
"Like you did him last night?," I said, pointing across the ring where Spider was on his stool with his corner men shaking smelling salts under his nose.
April quickly pulled away from me, a shocked and surprised look on her face. It only took one look for me to know that she had indeed been with Spider the previous evening, and it took her only a few seconds to realize that I knew where she'd been.
"Baby, I did it for you," she said. "I knew if I did him, if I milked him dry, he wouldn't have much left for tonight … that he'd wear down quick and wouldn't have any stamina. I took it all out of him … I wanted you to win so bad."
I didn't tell her that I'd also been going at it hammer and tongs the night before, so I couldn't be too upset. But I had to act like it. "I need to get out of the ring so they can start the next fight," I said. "I gotta go to the back."
While I was climbing through the ropes, I looked over to where Duke had been, and he was gone. Just as well, I thought … I wasn't up for any meetings or confrontations tonight. Pretty much all I wanted to do was go somewhere and stretch out, as soon as the doctor bandaged up my eye cuts, and think.
When the doctor was done, I threw on some sweats and headed back toward the gym area … or at least, I was headed down the hall in that direction, before a female form stepped in front of me. I had my head down, so I almost crashed right into her, but I knew instantly who it was.
"What … thought I wouldn't come to watch you tonight, especially after last night?"
I looked up and smiled. Carla had that effect on most people, and once you saw her it was hard to forget. Tall and auburn-haired, impossibly perky breasts. We had dated a few times a couple of years earlier, and I was pretty sure she'd had a little surgical assistance there. But they certainly felt real enough one night ago, and the rest of her body felt sensational, too. And it looked great tonight, too … she was wearing a tight little black number that scooped waaaaay down while also hugging all the other curves. She looked great.
"Sorry … just didn't expect to see you here," I said.
I knew she'd been dating another guy from my old gym, but apparently that was over … at least, I gathered it was from the way she took me around the world less than 24 hours earlier.
"I was sooooo scared when that guy hit you … down there," she said. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"I'll be all right," I said, not knowing exactly what to do since Carla's body was now pushing against mine in a couple of places and we were eye-to-eye … actually, her eyes were above mine, since she was probably 5-7 to start with and her heels made her at least two inches taller than me. That height, her looking down into my eyes, gave her a feeling of power and emboldened her.
"I can make it feel all better," she said in a whisper as her hands moved to my hips … and slowly started to move forward. "I made you feel all better last night, didn't I?"
One hand was now at the front of my sweats, the back of her hand rubbing against what was a growing erection, and the other was planted under an ass cheek and held me firmly in place. I wasn't doing much to discourage her groping … something I regretted when April suddenly appeared in the hallway.
"I think you should move those hands," April said, a determined look on her face as she walked over. "Or I will have to move them."
"Yeah, sure you will," Carla said, turning to face April but making a point to leave one hand against my cock and making sure April could see it. "Nice bikini for nighttime … tell me, does someone have to hand you the right card each round, or can you count that high?"
"At least I have something worth showing off," April retorted, "instead of everyone laughing at your skinny ass."
"You mean the way we laugh at you when you strut around out there? I think your streetcorner is still available when you finish here."
"Don't think too many are laughing," April said, "except for all the bitches like you who can't satisfy a man."
"Well, I can satisfy this one for sure," Carla said, pushing herself against me even more. "Just ask him if he was satisfied last night … he was certainly hard enough, long enough."
April shot me a look as I tried to intervene. "Ladies, please … let's not have an ugly scene here."
"The only thing ugly is going to be her face," April said, "unless she gets the hell out of here now."
Carla turned to me and put her hand on my chest. "What's the deal with blondie here? I know she jumps in the sack with whatever boxer happens to win a fight here and there. So what … is it your turn with her?"
Carla saw my face, and quickly looked at April.
"Oh, my god, it is," she laughed. "Oh, how funny."
April stepped even closer, grabbed Carla's arm roughly and pulled it over to where the two were face to face.
"This area is off limits to scum like you," April hissed. "If you don't get out of here right now, I'll throw you out … after I mess up that face a little."
Carla shook off April's grasp, stepped forward to where the two were inches apart, and halfway turned her head towards me.
"I thought I was going to have a little competition for you," she half-laughed. "But this little whore … why don't you run along before I start taking you apart, piece by piece?"
Carla grabbed April's sequined bow tie, pulled out the elastic and let it snap back against April's throat. April used both hands to shove Carla back against the wall, and I stepped in between before the two could get more physical.
"Ladies … this is not the time or the place," I said. "This is a charity event and a lot of people here … a lot of people that are friends of the three of us. If you can't settle this, take it somewhere else."
"We're in a gym … let's take it to the ring," April said. "If you're woman enough …."
"Can't think of anything I'd like better than to mess up that pretty face," Carla said, "and I'll work over those boobs just for the fun of it."
"You won't be awake long enough," April said. "Hope you've got lots of insurance, because I'm really going to fuck you up good."
"Such class," Carla said, "coming out of that cunt of a mouth. Hey, wherever, whenever, bitch."
The two glared at each other for a few seconds before Carla reached over to me, grabbed my sweatshirt and pulled my face into hers, kissing me before I could react and making sure her tongue was visible to all. She then walked quickly out to the main gym area and out of sight. April then turned her glare at me.
"So you and her …," she said, and I thought tears were about to well up in her eyes. "I … I …," she struggled to find words. "I guess that makes us even … but what I did last night was for you, even if you don't believe it."
There was an awkward silence before April spoke again.
"The only time I want to see you back near her is when you set us up … out there," she said as she pointed toward the ring. "Make that happen and maybe I'll forgive you." April turned abruptly and quickly walked out.
Shit, I thought … now what do I do? Guess I do what April wants, and it's not like Carla didn't want it, too. I walked over to my old gym's manager – the happiest guy in the room tonight, with his cash register stuffed from tickets, concessions and donations – and told him I needed a favor.
It so happened that the gym was closed to the public on Sunday, the next day, and I started setting up another private evening of boxing.

++++++

April and I didn't talk any more until the evening's final two bouts were over. She was still working the ring and her crew was still working the crowd, and the last two fights were good ones – a light heavyweight bout that was action-packed from start to finish, and a heavyweight match between guys who could really hit and weren't really good at not getting hit. The crowd thoroughly enjoyed the evening, and everyone left in a good mood – except, maybe, April and I.
As we walked out, I tried to make conversation.
"Look, she just came to my place and threw herself all over me," I said as we walked down the street next to the gym. "I didn't know if she was drunk or stoned, but …"
"What, you just set something up after I told you I was going to be visiting a friend?," April said. "You got her to come over after I left?"
"NO!," I said. "She just showed up."
" Yeah, like she just showed up tonight. I could really tell how hard you were trying to fight her off. I guess it was all that exertion in trying to get away from her was why your cock was getting big."
"Can we just drop it," I said. "We both messed up … can we just leave it at that?"
April didn't say anything for a while.
"I still want to hurt her bad," she finally said. "I need for you to set that all up. I have something to prove to her … and I guess to you, too."
When we got home, I called a friend and got Carla's phone number while April was showering. I called her to make sure she was serious about the two of them actually lacing up gloves and getting into the ring.
"You tell the little bitch I plan on beating her to death," Carla said over the phone, "… and then you and I will go and have some more fun. Last night was just a warm-up … you have no idea what I can do to a man."
I didn't respond to that, only telling her the time, place and other details. I wanted to make sure she was aboard with this before I told April, and it was a relief when I hung up the phone and stretched out on the bed.
When April came out of the shower, I told April about the arrangements – my old gym, 8 p.m. the next night, straight boxing. A private setting, just the three of us – I would serve as referee and second for both fighters. From her reaction, you would have thought that nothing had ever happened to damage our relationship.
"Guess I'll have to see if I can influence the referee," April said as she let her towel slip to the floor and reveal herself in all her lovely nakedness. "I know you can't wait to get between us and break up the clinches."
She crawled under the sheets and immediately began massaging my lower abs and my crotch, which was still a combination of pain and numbness thanks to Spider's left hand.
"Ooooo, I think the champ is still sore," April purred as she began pumping my instanty-stiff cock. "Look, it's all swollen. Let me see if I can make it all better."
It didn't take her long to pump out a stream of milky-white cum, which coated my chest and abdomen. April licked at both before climbing on top of me.
"Now that we know it still works, let's see what else it will do," she said.

++++++

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't looking forward to the evening all day Sunday.
I was going to get a close-up view of an ultimate male fantasy – two hot chicks battling it out with me as the prize. The more I thought about it, the hotter I got. For the first time, I had an idea of why April got so turned on when she watched two men fight and knew she was leaving with the winner.
But I was also concerned for April. I knew she was no delicate flower, and she was plenty strong when she was hitting the heavy bag in the gym. And she'd been around boxing enough to know how to handle herself.
But she was also a lot shorter than Carla, and I knew Carla had taken some legitimate boxing lessons when she was dating one of my old gym friends. Whether that was just to impress him, or if she was serious about learning how to box, we'd find out in a few hours.
I kept asking April if she wanted me to do anything for her or help her all day, and she kept telling me she was fine and not to worry. She actually spent most of Sunday napping and lying around, which was good since I had to take care of some details before their bout. But eventually she collected her gear early in the evening and we headed to the gym.
I used the spare key the manager had given me to let us in, and blocked the door open for Carla. As soon as she arrived, I thought, I'd come back and lock the door behind us, assuring privacy for all three of us.
We went back to the locker room area, and once inside I went ahead and wrapped and taped April's hands, taking special care to do a good job on her knuckles since her hands weren't used to punching anything except the heavy bag.
"I'll go and watch for Carla," I said to her. "You go ahead and get dressed and I'll come back to glove you up once she gets here."
April just nodded. I could tell she was nervous, so I rubbed her shoulders a little before I walked out. As soon as I walked down the hall and back into the gym, I heard the front door squeak open. It was Carla.
I walked over and locked the door behind her.
"The little blond bitch here, or did she chicken out?," Carla said.
I didn't bite. "She's in the back getting ready," I said. "Let's go back to the other locker room and I'll help you get ready."
"I'm ready now," Carla said as she dropped her bag, leaned in close and reached around my back, making sure to rub her chest back and forth against me. She had heels on again, meaning her eyes were still a couple of inches above mine, and she was obviously enjoying the fact that I wasn't resisting her advance. "You can come back and help me get undressed. That would be nice …."
"I meant get your hands wrapped and taped," I said as I tried to lean back.
"When I get through with blondie, you can tape me up anyway you want," she said, "as long as I get to tie you up after that."
She flashed a mischievous grin as I finally pulled away, grabbed her bag and headed toward the back. We walked by the ring, which I already had ready with the lights on, stools and water bottles placed and the timer set up.
"You're gonna love watching me in here," Carla said as she ran her hand along the apron on our way to the locker room. "I'm going to look so good you won't be able to stop yourself … you're going to do me right here after I beat up the bimbo."
She was right about one thing … I was going to love watching this.
When we got to the locker room, I reached under the training table to grab the wraps and tape. When I stood back up, Carla had torn off the jogging suit she had been wearing, and was standing there wearing only a red thong bottom.
"See anything you like," she said as she put her hands on her hips and cocked to one side.
I stepped over, grabbed her at the waist and picked her up, surprising her … but I quickly put her on the table, grabbed one of her hands and started with one of the wraps. "Maybe later," I said … but it was definitely a distraction, having those perky breasts looking at me while I tried to concentrate on her hands.
I finished and turned to walk out. "You finish getting ready," I said, "and I'd recommend covering those puppies up. They make too good a target."
"If you insist," she said. "Just wanted you to see what was coming later … besides you cumming everywhere, that is."
I walked down the hall to check on April, lightly knocking before I walked in. She had her back to me, but I could see her in the mirror and the reflection was stunning.
She had on the shortest and tightest pair of foxy boxing trunks ever, white with black trim that showed off her tan and also hugged what little bit of her gorgeous ass they covered. She had on her Everlast white boots and the hand wraps I had done earlier, but nothing else. She had been stretching and loosening up, and already had a sheen of sweat from the warmth in the gym – which made her look even more sensual.
"Wow … good thing for me it's not the two of us in the ring again, or you'd be putting the champ down again," I said, trying to lighten the mood.
"Your other girlfriend's the one that's going down," April said, "and then I'll be ready to drop you." She was smiling, but it was easy to tell she was serious about the first part. I pulled her gloves out of the bag – 10-ounce whites. I had insisted they use at least 10-ounce and had asked for bigger, to lessen the chance of someone getting hurt. I had also insisted on mouthpieces for the same reason, and for two-minute breaks between rounds so I would have time to check both corners.
While April sat on the table and I laced her gloves, she finally asked me about the fight.
"OK, what should I do here? You're the champ, you tell me," she said, with just the hint of a smile.
"Well, she's taller than you," I said, "so I think your best bet is to stay on top of her, not let her use her longer arms, and most boxers without a lot of experience don't like to get hit to the body. Once you get inside, just do the same thing you do to the heavy bag … hit as hard as you can for as long as you can."
"OK …," she said. "I really want to kick her ass bad … yeah, for me, but mostly for you."
My face must have looked like a question mark.
"I want to win this for you," she said. "I got you into the fight against Duke that you probably shouldn't have won, and I'm pretty sure you won it for me. And you wouldn't have boxed again last night if you hadn't known how much I wanted to watch you fight.
"Just knowing you did that both times got me sooooo hot, and then when you won …. Ohhhh," she said, her hand instinctively moving to the crotch of those impossibly-tight foxy trunks. "Now I want you to feel the same way … I want you so hot watching me that when I win, you'll want me so bad you'll be out of control."
She stood up and playfully started tapping my crotch with both her gloves.
"I want you spewing cum everywhere," she said, "and then I can use her to wipe it up."
I grabbed her gloves. "Save that thought," I said, smiling. "Give me a couple of minutes and then come out to the ring when you're ready. And I'd put something on up top if I were you … don't want to give Carla anything to aim at." And I couldn't help but plant a deep kiss on her lips before I walked out.
When I tapped the door and went into Carla's locker room to glove her up, I saw she had added a tight red bikini top that matched the thong. Her long legs went all the way down to matching red boots, and when I dug her gloves out of her bag while she limbered up – her slender and toned body able to stretch into very provocative positions, I noticed – I saw that they were also a matching red. She will look sensational in the ring, no question. Hell, she looked awesome right here.
"Ready for these?," I said, holding up the gloves as she finished her stretch. "Like the color."
"Can't wait," she said. "Her face will soon be just as red, and probably the rest of her, too, if she stands up that long."
I didn't say anything, just held her gloves one by one against my chest as I laced them. I noticed a couple of nice biceps as she pushed against me, and I hadn't noticed that before.
When I finished, she held her gloves up, indicating she wanted me to hold my hands up to give her targets for some shadow-boxing. I did, and she quickly took a solid boxer's stance and started peppering out punches … pop, pop, pop, fast and hard with both fists. My hands recoiled some with each impact. This went on for at least half a minute before she stopped punching, but continued to bounce in place with her gloves high.
Damn … she knows what she's doing, and she noticed the surprised look on my face.
"Surprised?," she said. "Your little blond bitch is in trouble. Picture her tits where your hands were. I'm going to have fun ripping those tittles up."
She still had an evil smile when I walked out, her right behind me heading toward the ring in long and confident strides. April could be in trouble here, I thought, if I didn't warn her … she's not expecting Carla to have any boxing background. But I'm not going to have much of a chance to warn her between now and bell time.
Carla gracefully slipped through the ropes and lightly bounced across the ring, where she began punching the pad in her corner. April could hear the noise as she came into the gym area, quickly entering the ring and grasping the top ropes on both sides of her corner and pulling them in her own stretch. After my last locker room visit, she had added a tight white "wife-beater" shirt to her ensemble … but it was cut off at the bottom, so high that it barely covered her breasts, and wouldn't if she ever raised her hands above her head.
I called them to the center of the ring, and as they walked out I couldn't help thinking … two great-looking women wearing very little clothing and boxing gloves, about to start punching on each other until one of them is on the canvas. Dammmmnnnnn … if I didn't have to be in here with them, what a pleasure it would be to sit at ringside and jack off while watching.
The stare between the two was like knives flying back and forth. They both stepped forward, chests almost touching except that Carla's four-inch height advantage put her nipples at the top of April's breasts. I had to grab their shoulders to back them up.
"You two keep it clean," I said. "I won't interfere unless I have to, but back off when I tell you to. Settle this between yourselves."
I didn't even try to get them to touch gloves. April and Carla both walked backwards to their corners, neither taking their eyes off the other. Carla bounced with her gloves high, while April pounded her gloves together, the noise echoing around the gym. April put her back against the turnbuckle, rolling her neck and shoulders to stay loose and making her "wife-beater" creep up enough to give me a nice view and another warm feeling in my crotch.
I went over to start the automatic timer, but I took a quick detour close to April's corner.
"Be careful," I whispered where Carla couldn't see me. "She's better than you think."
In hindsight, I should have known better. As in every other instance since I'd met her, I underestimated April once again.

END PART THREE