He stood up, and after a slight struggle, pushed the shorts past his cock and down his legs. During the grueling process of him removing his undersized shorts, I took all of his completely naked body into view. Every inch of him was hairless, tan, smooth, and…
Oversized.
I realized I had many options as far as positioning myself to suck his cock. Instead of complicating matters, I settled into the couch cushion, extended my arm, and curled my index finger into my palm repeatedly.
Come here, you big sexy fucker.
Unwilling to wait any longer than I had to, I scooted to the outermost edge of the couch and wet my lips with my tongue. He and his throbbing third leg stepped in front of me, and without his expressed permission or taking time to explain my desires, I grabbed his cock and began sucking my way into his heart.
In the desolate area where I grew up, most girls had some form of talent. Some were good at cooking. Others grew up on farms and were quite talented at riding horses or driving tractors. As fate would have it, my talents were limited to boxing, sucking cocks, and fucking.
And I was good all of them.
I flattened the back of my tongue and forced as much of his swollen shaft into my throat as I could. It wasn’t easy, but the look on Ethan’s face made it rewarding. If I learned nothing more from all of my sexual experiences, I learned to watch the expression on the man’s face who I was attempting to please.
And Ethan was pleased.
I knew if he was pleased with what I had done so far, he’d really be pleased once I got my rhythm.
With him standing directly in front of the couch and me sitting at the edge of the cushion, I gripped his muscular ass in my hands and began to suck his cock like it was going to solve all the world’s problems.
I massaged his balls carefully in my hand while I slid my mouth up and down the thick shaft with precision. The fleshy tip banged deep into my throat with each stroke of my lips. Satisfied that I was well on my way to etching a permanent mark deep in Ethan’s mind, I continued to suck vigorously, hoping my talent would satisfy him so greatly that he made me a permanent part of his leisurely evening schedule.
Measuring my success in boxing came easy. I simply compared the wins to the losses. As there weren’t any losses, I was easily able to identify myself as a success.
Determining my success at sucking a man’s dick was equally as easy. It wasn’t indicated by moans, groans, or an appreciative post-blowjob comment. At least in my mind, it was measured in the amount of time it took me to get a man to reach climax. If I was somehow able to coerce a man to reach orgasm – simply by using my mouth – in a matter of a few minutes, he was undoubtedly satisfied with my performance.
If I had to suck and stroke endlessly until my jaw, hands, arms, and mouth were exhausted, something was either wrong with me – or him. Based on the available information and my willingness to fully accept it, I didn’t require praise in boxing or in my head game. Everything I needed was in front of me.
I massaged his smooth ball sack and moved my wet mouth along the shaft, studying his facial expression as I did so.
I buried him deep into my throat and gazed up and into his eyes.
He lifted his chin and tilted his head back. His entire body tensed and he began to moan. I recalled what Rachel said about not sucking him to completion, but at that moment, while caught up in the excitement of it all, I wasn’t about to stop.
I was ninety seconds into my performance and he was going to unleash.
I wanted to see it.
I needed to see it.
Something about watching a man ejaculate was exciting to me. Seeing the cum spurt from the tip of his cock made me feel like I had truly accomplished something.
And it was fucking hot.
As his cock twitched and began to swell, his moaning deepened, and I slid his cock from my throat in response.
Holding it directly in front of my mouth, I jacked my hands along the slippery shaft, pointing the tip into my waiting and willing mouth.
In two more strokes, I was well on my way to success. His chest tensed, his bicep muscles flared, and he groaned out in pleasure. Cum blasted from the tip of his cock and shot into my mouth over and over, the long thick bursts seeming to last forever.
I’d sucked enough cocks in my younger years to develop a taste for a man’s cum. It wasn’t something I would describe as tasty, but it was somehow satisfying in its own way. I found the salty and slightly bitter essence to be rather sensual. A reminder of the sensuous act that extracted it from deep within.
As his cum filled my mouth, however, my tongue tried to reject it. My stomach heaved. My nostrils flared.
And I remembered.
Asparagus.
Fuck.
Nothing on this earth made a person’s piss stink – or a man’s cum taste – worse than asparagus.
He gazed into my eyes.
I met his gaze. With my mouth agape, his cock still in my hand, and my tongue covered in his rotten cum, I tried my hardest to look content.
I fought against the putrid stench, closed my mouth, and swallowed.
My stomach fought to reject it.
I struggled to keep it down.
And I remembered Rachel’s advice.
Whatever you do, don’t swallow.
Truer words had never been spoken.
NINE
Jaz
Day twenty-nine.
It had been three days since the blowjob incident, and it appeared sucking Ethan’s cock was the best decision I could have ever made. We now communicated several times daily, and he seemed to be far more interested in me sexually and personally.
While in my cooldown mode of my training, I was explaining my next scheduled fight.
“Next week?” he asked. “Really?”
“He said she was like begging for a chance. After she heard what I did to that Linda Lopez chick, she’s been trying to get at me. Ripp didn’t even have to ask. Her trainer or manager or whatever called him.”
“You don’t think it’s too soon?”
“Too soon?” I smacked the speedbag again. “No.”
“I just…”
I smacked the bag again. “You just what?”
“I don’t want you to get hurt.”
I hit it again and turned toward him. The bag bounced back and forth on the rebound platform. “Hurt?” I coughed out a laugh. “Don’t worry about that. I won’t get hurt.”
“You can never be sure. If it’s too soon, would you tell him?”
I rolled my eyes. “Sure. But it’s not. I don’t know what that even means. I went one round with that chick, and it’s been almost a week. If I had ten back-to-back fights like that it’d be equal to only one real fight.”
“It’s just. I don’t know.” His dropped his gaze to my feet, held it for a second, and then lifted his eyes to meet mine. “I care about you, and I don’t want anything to happen.”
Awwe.
Apparently the blowjob thing worked.
“Thank you. But it’ll be fine.”
He twisted his mouth to the side and shrugged.
I hit the bag again, once with each hand, then sighed. “No girl is going to hurt me. She might beat me but she won’t hurt me.”
“I don’t know how you can say that.”
I looked at his gloved hands. I glanced around the gym. It was early evening, and several of the rings were empty, including the one closest to us.
I motioned toward the ring. “Come on.”
“What?”
“Get in the ring.”
“No. I can’t get in there with you.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t want to…”
“What? Hurt me? That’s my point. You won’t. Come on.”
“Jaz, seriously.”
I walked to the ring, ducked under the ropes, and climbed inside. He remained standing beside the speed bag.
“Pussy,” I taunted.
He puff
ed his chest. “Excuse me?”
“You said the other day that you’d like fighting with me.”
He glanced over each shoulder. “Yeah, maybe at home.”
“Scared of what people are going to say?”
“No.”
I tapped my gloves together. “Come on, pussy.”
The thought of Ethan getting in the ring with me made my pussy throb. I hadn’t shared my sexual preferences with him yet, but I was pretty sure when I did, he’d be shocked. I liked my sex no differently than my fights.
Fast and rough.
He glanced over each of his shoulders again.
“Quit worrying about who’s going to see you or what someone’s going to think,” I complained.
He appeared to be considering it.
“There’s only one way to live life. Like nobody’s watching.”
He turned toward me, walked to the base of the ring, and climbed inside. I held my gloves at arm’s length.
He pounded his gloves against mine.
I stepped back and poked a quick jab at him. As he took a step back, I swung an uppercut toward his jaw.
Wham!
The tip of my glove connected hard with his chin. He stumbled back, clearly shocked at the speed – and the force – of my punch.
He shook his head. “You don’t hit like a…”
A left hook to his ribs made him cough out his remaining breath and prevented him from finishing his sentence.
I wasn’t about to give him any mercy, especially when he was worried about me getting hurt. I needed to prove a point, and I was well on my way to doing so. I threw a combination of punches into his mid-section, and he naturally reacted by swinging an uppercut toward my chin.
The punch wasn’t weak, and it sure wasn’t intended for a girl. He swung it naturally, out of a fighter’s desire to survive in the ring. If it would have connected, it probably would have knocked me out.
I leaned back, and his glove swung past me, narrowly missing my jaw. A right cross counter on my part connected well with his shoulder, knocking him slightly off-balance. After securing my footing, I swung a left hook into the back of his right shoulder, spinning him around slightly.
Another quick hook to his kidney almost dropped him to his knees.
“I don’t hit like what? Like a girl?”
He stumbled to regain his footing, and while he did, I stepped back and admired him.
I’d always wanted to fight with my respective other, but had yet to date – or even fuck – a boxer or fighter. Until Ethan, I had never been in the ring with one of my sexual interests.
I now realized that my original suspicions were correct. I liked it. And I liked it a lot. Fighting with him was a huge turn-on, and my pussy was tingling already.
“No,” he said. He turned around quickly, bringing a wild left with him.
The punch caught me on the right side of the jaw, blurring my vision and making me see stars. Naturally, I took a few steps backward and raised my forearms to protect my face.
It was the first time I had been hit in almost ten years, and the very first time anyone had made me see stars.
My pussy was soaked.
I lowered my gloves, stepped toward him, and extended my arms.
He tapped his gloves against mine. “You alright?”
“Are you kidding? Never been better,” I said. I lowered the tone of my voice to a whisper. “My pussy is soaked.”
“Seriously?” he asked.
I nodded. “Completely. Soaked.”
“That’s weird. I doubt being hit hard would make my cock stiff,” he said.
He barely completed the sentence. When he said the word my, I swung a right uppercut. Just as he finished the speaking, the punch caught the underside of his chin, knocking him senseless for an instant.
As he stumbled, I stepped back and admired my work. “You should know for sure now,” I said with a laugh. “Is it hard?”
“What on God’s green little earth is going on here?”
I turned toward the voice.
Fuck. Kelsey.
He stood beside the ring with his hands on his hips and his face clearly expressing the disgust he felt. He met my gaze, held it for a second, and then turned toward Ethan. After a short glare, he looked at me again.
“Was your name Jaz or Spaz?” he asked. “I can’t remember.”
I swallowed and cleared my throat. “Jaz.”
“Huh,” he said. “I would have guessed the other.”
He shook his head and walked away.
“Is he pissed?” I whispered.
Ethan nodded. “He sure looked like it.”
“Had enough?” I asked, my voice filled with sarcasm.
He coughed out a laugh and nodded. “You proved your point.”
“What makes you think I was trying to prove a point?” I asked.
He ducked under the ropes, and turned to face me before climbing out. “My sore jaw.”
His jaw was sore and my pussy was soaked. “Be sure and put your gloves in your bag,” I said. “Don’t leave ‘em in your locker.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because,” I said. “I need to release some tension before the fight. I was thinking we’d do this at my apartment, later.”
He narrowed his eyes and stared.
I climbed from the ring and grinned. “Naked.”
The look on his face was all the response I needed.
TEN
Jaz
Day twenty-nine.
Ethan stood in the middle of my living room, wearing nothing but his boxing gloves. His cock hung heavily between his legs, not completely hard, but not soft by any stretch of the imagination. “How hard?” he asked.
I glanced down at his cock and then lifted my eyes to meet his. God, he was so fucking sexy. “Hard enough I remember it,” I responded.
I lowered my hands.
He punched me in the center of the face, knocking me off-balance and almost toppling me over. Tears ran down my cheeks. Not tears from crying, but tears caused by being hit right in the middle of my nose.
I shook my head and wished I could wipe my watering eyes, but the boxing gloves I was wearing prevented it.
“Enough?” he asked.
It wasn’t. I didn’t feel the rush of sexual emotion yet. Not like I did when Kelsey caught us in the ring. Maybe I needed to hit him. “Tighten your jaw muscles.”
He narrowed his eyes and lowered his hands.
“You sure you’re ready?”
He blinked and nodded slightly.
I swung a hard right cross, landing right on the tip of his chin. He stumbled three or four steps to the rear, eventually catching his balance and shaking his head from side to side. “Holy shit,” he exclaimed. “You hit hard as fuck.”
“Good to know,” I said. “I’ve always wondered.”
I stole a glance at his cock. It was slightly harder than before. My pussy began to tingle at the thought of fighting and fucking at the same time. I pounded my gloves against my stomach. “Give me a good three or four to the body.”
I was wearing a plaid skirt, no panties, and a sports bra. Considering the size of my boobs, the sports bra was mandatory. The plaid skirt, however, was optional. A request on Ethan’s part to fulfill some ridiculous fantasy.
A commando schoolgirl boxer.
“Are you sure?”
“Hurry up,” I demanded. “I’m getting horny as fuck.”
I extended my arms to the side, giving him a free shot at my torso. He unleashed a three-punch combo to my mid-section, pulling his punches slightly. The quick series of half-power blows knocked me back about six feet and caused the breath to shoot from my lungs.
As I fought to breathe there was no doubt in my mind that my pussy was soaked. “Put ‘em up,” I howled.
His eyes widened. He raised his gloves. I stepped toward him and as soon as I was within reach, we exchanged blows for several long seconds, me hitting him with all I had, a
nd him returning punches that were packed with about half the power he was capable of unleashing.
Thirty seconds later, and I was covered from head to toe in sweat, and my arms felt like Jell-O. I was done with the fighting, and was ready to move on to the fucking.
I lowered my tired self to my knees. “Stick…your cock…in my…mouth,” I said between breaths.
He didn’t hesitate. In three short steps, his hips were against my face and his rather flaccid cock was in my mouth. I realized, just like Rachel predicted I would be, that I was the blowjob girl. But. I was preparing to become the boxer in the plaid skirt who fucked Ethan senseless.
I wrapped my arms around his waist and pulled against his ass with my gloves, more for my benefit than his. Something about having a man’s ass in my hands while I sucked his cock made me wetter than wet. I sucked on his rapidly growing shaft until it filled my throat. Four or five good gagging fits later, and I stood up with watering eyes.
He returned a worried stare.
“Don’t worry,” I said with a grin. “I’m gonna give you the good stuff.”
I turned toward the couch and bent over. With my boobs buried in the cushion and my ass high in the air, I reached for my skirt, only to quickly remember I was wearing boxing gloves. Half a dozen unsuccessful attempts to raise my skirt over my ass later, and I surrendered the idea and glanced over my shoulder.
Completely naked with the exception of his red and white boxing gloves, Ethan stood behind me wide-eyed and rock hard.
“Just fuck me,” I demanded.
He pounded his gloves together as if preparing to begin a fight.
He lifted his bare foot and easily flipped the back of my skirt over my ass and onto the back side of my hips. His gloves squeezed my waist. With neither of us able to guide his throbbing cock into my wet and willing hole, it danced around between my legs for some time before finally landing perfectly centered between my pussy lips.
Before we got started, I needed to make sure we were on the same page, sexually speaking. “I want it rough.”
His cock still hovered in mid-air, tickling my pussy with each breath he took. He cleared his throat. “Rough?”
“Rough as fuck,” I assured him.
With one hard shove, he filled me with cock and forced the air from my lungs.
I grunted like I’d been gut-punched.
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