Dan Boxer's blog

FICTION -- "April's Offer" (Part 6)

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.
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.


Last edited on 10/10/2021 8:47 PM by Dan Boxer



GINGERMAN (3) 10/11/2021 3:33 AM

The problem with a cookoo clock is the sound you here never varies.