I’m in a real predicament. I am “friends” with Karen and I’ve been over to her house to “visit” her a few times. She has a boxing ring in her basement where she boxes other women every chance she gets. Sometimes, when she can’t find anyone to box with her, she wrestles and I guess that’s where I come in. We’ve wrestled a few times and we’re roughly even in the win/loss department between us.
Most recently I had set up a match between us as a special birthday surprise for my husband and persuaded Karen to let me win. We worked out the holds we were going to use to make the match interesting and show off our sexy bodies to our husbands. Oh, I forgot to mention that Karen’s husband, Michael, would also be watching. We wore bikinis and the match proceeded pretty much as planned until Karen tried to double-cross me and win the match to impress her husband. It didn’t work and I finished her off in a spectacular fashion that had both the men’s dicks as hard as rocks. Okay, the fact that both of us were topless when I made her howl her surrender helped.
That was months ago so I was a little surprised and leery when she called me. Michael’s birthday was fast approaching and apparently, I had impressed him so much that he wanted to see a boxing match between us. That’s the problem with men; they always want more! I refused for the simple reason that I knew nothing about boxing and was convinced Karen would absolutely destroy me. Apparently, those weren’t good enough reasons.
Karen reminded me of the gift she allowed me to give my husband and basically guilted me to agreeing to the match. She promised to work with me every day until the match so I would look like I had some skill. Also, the fight would be “fixed” where she would pull her punches and go easy on me. Of course, she would win by a “knockout” where I was really taking a dive. In the end I agreed to five 3-minute rounds with a 2-minute rest period between rounds. Karen was pleased with our agreement and the date was set. What had I gotten myself into?
We arrived at the appointed time and the boys proceeded to the kitchen for a beer while I headed to the guest bedroom to change. They were sitting on the couch talking when I came down the stairs and climbed into the ring. My husband got up and helped me off with my robe and Michael made no attempt to hide how much he was checking me out. I must have met with his approval because he reached down and was adjusting his crotch just as Karen descended the stairs. She caught him “red-handed”, glowered at him, and gave me an accusatory dirty look. Hell, woman, can I help it if your man gets a hard-on, just because I wiggled my butt a little in front of him? My suspicions about there being more to this match than I was led to believe were increasing.
When Karen removed her robe, I caught hubby looking her over with too. He later explained that since we were so similar in build, he had to look closely to identify the differences. I could already hear the excuse, “Baby, it was so dark in the room I thought it was you!” I was anxious to get this thing over with and I recited the rules to Karen as she lounged in her corner. They were:
Five 3-minute rounds, 2-minute rest periods
A 10-count for a knock out (the husband of the downed fighter makes the count)
If a girl is knocked down 3 times in the same round she’s lost the fight
All punches should be above the belly button
Karen smiled sweetly and suggested, “Why don’t we make it more interesting for the boys? The loser becomes the property of the winner’s husband for the night. Are you game for bigger stakes?” I looked over at my husband and saw that he was intrigued by her proposition, but he shook his head. He knew it was a trap, I knew it was a trap, hell, everybody knew it was a trap! “Not tonight, honey”, I coolly replied, “Maybe when we wrestle again and the odds aren’t all stacked against me.” Michael was clearly disappointed, but the fact it might eventually happen caused his dick to harden again and I knew hubby was having the same reaction.
Round 1
Karen advanced out of her corner beckoning to me to get started. I raised my arms in a defensive posture and Karen started peppering me with light jabs to test me. After almost a minute of this is was apparent that Karen was much quicker than me, both in foot and arm speed, but she mostly honored our agreement by pulling her punches to some degree. I tried a few tentative jabs at her face that she easily blocked, but I landed a lucky punch that grazed her cheek. Stung, she launched a furious assault battering my arms and shoulders as I covered up to protect myself. I was relieved when the round ended and proud that I had weathered her attacks so well.
Round 2
Karen picked up where she left off throwing some heavy punches on my upper arms and shoulders and it was beginning to hurt like hell. She drew a low grunt of pain from me as each punch landed on my increasingly tenderized arms, shoulders and upper chest. My arms felt like they were weighed down with lead as I tried to raise them higher to ward off her blows, but that just gave her the opportunity to pivot low and send a crashing uppercut into my belly just below the navel. I almost retched from the pain and bent over slightly clutching my stomach as a left cross tore into my boob almost knocking it out of my top. I staggered back against the ropes as she fired another punch into my boobs just as the round ended.
Round 3
I was pissed and Karen presented me an opening when she tried a looping punch towards my boob again, but this time instead of backing off I batted her arm aside and popped her in the face with a crisp one two. Her head snapped back and I reckon she might have had a taste of blood in her mouth as I'd caught her first on the nose and then as her head was going back my follow up smashed into her lips. Not KO hard punches, but stinging fast ones that made her eyes water. Karen's head snapped back and she stumbled backwards trying to bring her guard up. I was throwing punches as fast as I could that forced her to block them and preventing her from throwing any bombs of her own. One punch penetrated her defenses and caught her square on her temple and knocked her down. Everyone was stunned by that development especially me! She was back on her feet by the count of “4” and charged at me with a look of hatred in her eyes. I used my wrestling skills to grab her around the waist, pivot us so her back was against the ropes, and clinched her as tightly as I could. She got off a few weak shots to my kidneys as the round ended and I released her.
Round 4
I was buoyed by my performance in the last round, but Karen’s plan to neutralize my arms and shoulders was really starting to take effect. Over the last 20 minutes they had noticeably stiffened up, bruises formed and tissue swelled putting pressure on nerves and making it harder for me to keep my guard up let alone throw punches. On the other hand Karen was pumped and didn’t seem any the worse for wear for what I did to her in the last round. When she came out of her corner, she didn’t come at me directly, but approached from the side like she was stalking me. She flicked a few jabs at me to test my defenses and was pleased at my slow, painful response. That’s when she began to batter my body in earnest. She went in low and blasted by belly hitting me flush on the navel. I was expecting it and stiffened my stomach muscles as much as I could, but a second, third, fourth, and fifth shot took their toll. I was becoming sloppy in my movements and when I was particularly open, she crouched and sent a vicious uppercut into my pussy! Sparkles exploded in my vision and I went down in a heap clutching my aching crotch. My husband started a slow count and I waited until “8” before rising from the canvas. I was basically hers for the taking, but she just lounged against the ropes until time ran out.
Round 5
Finally! According to the script I was supposed to take my dive from an obvious roundhouse and we had practiced how I should fake the impact and KO. I expected Karen to toy with me a little before the coup de grace and it was all I could do to raise my arms in some semblance of defense. As we came together for the finale, Karen went into a clinch, pinned me against the ropes and whispered, “Sorry Becky, but there’s been a change of plans. Michael really wants me to destroy you!” Son of a Bitch! Screw you, I’m going down the first chance I get! Karen obviously expected my reaction to her betrayal so she bullied me into the corner and started working me over mercilessly. Karen put her shoulder against my upper chest, pressing my body into the turnbuckles and began pistoning her fist into my unprotected gut. Each one landing with a loud thud followed by an “umph” or groan from me. I lost track of how many times she hit me, but she finally stopped and backed away sweat-soaked and exhausted by her effort. My legs gave out and I slumped in the corner. My husband told me later that when he saw my legs give out, he knew I was done for.
I was shaky and groggy when Karen pulled me from the corner by my hair and positioned me in front of her on my knees. She tilted my head back slightly and looked malevolently into my eyes. “Say goodnight, Bitch!” she shouted as she slammed a doomsday uppercut into my chin. Official observers reported that my face blanched, my eyes rolled back into my head, and I toppled backwards onto the ring floor arms splayed out by my sides.
I don’t know how long I laid there, but I regained enough of my senses to be aware that Karen was standing over me, foot forcefully pressed down on my boobs in a victory pose, diamond-hard nipples that threatened to poke right through her top, and her right glove rubbing a growing wet spot between her legs. Yes ma’am, happy to please. That’s the kind of reaction I get when we wrestle. To my surprise I noticed my nipples were a little hard too. We’ve got to work together on this!
