My First Night at the Catfight Club (F/F)

I knew exactly what I wanted for my 18th birthday, and my mother just smiled when I told her that I wanted her to take me to the catfight club. The theme was high-class women settling their differences in, well, catfights, and to get in the door you had to not just be willing to fight any challenger, you needed to look the part, with a nice dress and shoes the very minimum. Elegant makeup, carefully coiffured hair, and expensive jewelry (or at least expensive-looking; nobody cared if it was real or cubic zirconia) was encouraged. My mother and sister took me out to get dolled up in a blood-red dress that left my shoulders bare, a strapless black bra, frilly black panties, stockings, and high-heeled shoes the same color as my dress. They took me to the salon and my slightly wavy black hair got styled into a thick braid down to the top of my butt. Then jewelry - gold hoop earrings, a silver chain around my neck holding a large red jewel in a cage, and flashy rings on my fingers. Finally, makeup - a intricate smokey eye effect applied to my dark, almond-shaped eyes, a hint of rouge, and lipstick the same color as my dress and shoes. I checked myself out in the full-length mirror in the master bathroom. I’m pretty dark (from dad - mom’s lighter), and I really liked how the color of the dress set off my skintone. I also thought it did a pretty good job making the most of my B-cups; I knew I wouldn’t be able to match my opponent in the bust department, but they looked nice. I was a little uneven on the heels - something to work on.

Now I’d already picked out the person I wanted to fight; my mom’s old enemy, a woman her age named Tabitha. They’d tangled more times than my mother could remember; I’d seen my mother nursing black eyes and split lips, and I’d seen her floating around the house on a cloud of happiness for days after coming out on top in a scrap with her.

You could attend starting the club at 18, but you couldn't drink any of the flutes of champagne waitresses circulated with until 21; I had to settle for sparkling grape juice, reminding myself not to drink it all in nervousness- the signal that you wanted to fight one of the participants was throwing your drink in her face.

I’d never met Tabitha, but I didn’t have any trouble picking her out of the crowd; she was one of the palest women I’ve ever seen, her almost milk-white skin glowing under the light from the overhead chandeliers. She stood about 5’7” in her two inch heels - a not insignificant height advantage as I was only 5’3” in my own high-heels - with a curvy hourglass figure, double D’s on proud display in her low-cut dress. Her long, straight black hair came down halfway down her back in a thick waterfall. (“Dyed,” my mom whispered in my ear. “She’s got a few grey hairs she can’t stand.”) She had large facial features - big blue eyes framed with heavy purple eyeshadow, a long elegant nose, rouged cheeks and a wide mouth with lipstick the same purple color as her eye makeup. Her black dress showed a wide valley of cleavage in front and her bare back (although you couldn’t see much of that with her hair in the way). Her outfit was finished with stockings, black spike high-heels, a huge gold necklace with three bright blue diamond-shaped gems set in the center, and several flashy rings on her long fingers.

She noticed me staring at her and shimmied up to me. She threw a nod at my mother: “Who’s this? Your little girl, darling?” She turned to me with a friendly smile on her face and held her hand out for me to shake. I grabbed her hand and squeezed, shaking it up and down.

“Elena Alvarado.” My mom had fed me the next line: “You must be Flabby Tabby!”

“Excuse me?!” She released my hand like it was burning her, then looked back at my mother. “Is this rude little pig your daughter?” My mom nodded with what I can only describe as a shit-eating grin on her face. “Well, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, does it?” Tabitha leaned in close to me, her plum-scented perfume tickling my nose. “Listen, darling. Your whole family is trash. Your mother is trash, and you're trash." She leaned back and looked me up and down with a snort. "And doesn't your mother have enough money to get you something better than these rags, sweetie?" She picked distastefully at my dress. "And your hair!” She tucked a few stray strands of my hair behind my ear, then gave my face a squeeze. “And that little rat face of yours, darling! Ugh!"

That was enough, and I threw my sparkling grape juice right in her face, relishing her look of complete shock. This was the challenge, and she accepted it by rocking me with a face slap, the noise of the impact turning heads all around the room. It also set my ears ringing, and the next thing I knew Tabitha had me in a headlock, dragging me to one of the fight suites, sets of private rooms where women could settle their differences without interference. She pushed the door to one open with her hip, then threw me in, releasing the headlock. I hit the plush carpeted floor on my back and got up to my feet. We were in a luxuriously decorated sitting room; through an open set of large double doors I could see a richly decorated bedroom dominated by a huge four-poster bed, and behind that I could just make out a large bathroom. I didn't have time to look any closer as Tabitha closed and locked the door behind her, then turned to face me.

"You little tramp," she barked. "I'm going to teach you a lesson your mother obviously didn't!" We took off our jewelry, then squared up; Tabitha struck first with a vicious slap to my left cheek. I slapped her back as hard as we could; the traditional opening for these fights is to go toe to toe and exchange face slaps and backhands until one fighter couldn't take it anymore. After a half dozen blows it became clear to me that I was going to be the fighter who couldn't take it anymore; we might have been about even in strength, but Tabitha had a lifetime of experience on me, and each one of her expertly applied hits left me gasping. One particularly nasty backhand left me reeling and she came in for the kill, burying a right-handed punch in my stomach. I gasped and had to lean against her to stay standing; she pushed me off her with a hard shove and I fell down, landing hard with a grunt on my butt. Tabitha grabbed a handful of my long hair with her left hand, twisting it in her fist so I was looking up at her, and she nailed me with one last massive slap, releasing my hair as her hand smacked into my face with enough force to lay me out on my back.

"What's the matter, little girl?" she teased. "Are you done already? I'm barely even warmed up."

"Fuck you," I mumbled.

"Such language, darling!" she scolded. She pulled me up to my feet, punching me in the stomach again to forestall any resistance, and dragged me through the bedroom into the bathroom, shoving me so I was at one of the double sinks. She picked up a thick bar of soap and told me to open wide. I shook my head and tried to turn away from the sink, but she got my left arm in a hammerlock, pulling my wrist up behind my back. The pain was agonizing, and when she told me to open my mouth again I did in the hope that she'd ease up, which she did, just a little. She stuffed the bar of soap in my mouth, laughing as I gagged on it and tried to spit it out. She held it steady as the disgusting bitter taste permeated my mouth. I felt myself starting to cry in embarrassment. "Look at yourself!" she ordered me. “You’re a mess!”  I did, and she was right; I was a mess, my eyes puffy from crying, my cheeks bright red where she'd landed her slaps, my mouth foaming and drooling from the bitter soap she'd forced between my lips. I took a deep breath and then shot my right elbow back into her stomach, and the hard tip sank into her soft tummy as she gasped, losing her hammerlock. I turned and used my momentum to land the hardest slap I could, the loud smack of my hand on her face echoing around the small room. Tabitha shrieked and fell down on her side; I took a step back and slammed the tip of my high-heeled shoe into her stomach. This knocked her over onto her back, wailing and holding the spot I'd hit. I copied her earlier taunt, straddling her and leaning down until we were face to face: "You done already, you old bitch? I'm ju-" I stopped short and she'd reached up into my dress and was squeezing my pussy. With a gasp I grabbed her arm with both hands, but I couldn't pry her away; pain shot out of my crotch, weakening my body as a laughing Tabitha worked the hold. I sank down to my knees with a squeak of helpless agony, slumping backwards against the cabinet under the sink.

"You talk a lot of shit, little girl," Tabitha scolded me. "You need to be able to back it up." She'd gotten to her knees and we were facing each other; she added a mean choke with her free hand. I locked both of my hands around her neck in return and squeezed as hard as I could, but I was weak from her attack; her pussy claw and single-hand choke were already wrecking me, and she just snarled as I failed to do much damage. My hands fell away from her neck and she laughed, releasing me and getting to her feet. She kicked me in the stomach and I screamed weakly as the tip of her shoe hit my belly button. It was too much, and I slumped over on my left side. A gloating Tabitha rolled me onto my back and started stripping me, unzipping my dress, lifting my body up off the thickly carpeted floor as she pulled my dress off and slammed it into the garbage. I managed to roll over and back her off with some wild kicks, but not far enough; she stalked me as I started getting up, and I'd only made it to my knees when she came up behind me and unsnapped my bra. I reached behind my back to try and stop her, but she whipped it off and danced away from me with it. I made it to my knees and faced her as she tossed my bra aside, leaving me in just my bottoms, stockings and shoes. She put one hand on her hip and ogled my bare chest with a smile. "You call those sad little things tits?" She pulled the straps of her dress down, then unhooked her own bra with a smile, her huge boobs flopping free. She cupped them with a taunting smile, then winked and blew me a kiss. "How about these, sweetie?"

How about them indeed. I came close and applied a double nipple twist, and I guess I got her good; she screamed in agony as I got both her hard nipples between my fingers. She threw a blind slap that I ducked under, and I nailed her left breast with an uppercut slap, her big tit flying up and hitting her in the face. She stumbled back covering her chest and I followed, landing a hard punch in her tummy that bent her over. I braced my hands on her back and lifted my knee into her chest, feeling her tits pancake between my leg and her ribcage. Tabitha wailed and I grabbed a handful of her long hair, yanking it back so she was looking right at me, and started slapping her face with my free hand.

I landed a half dozen hugely satisfying slaps to my opponent's swelling face before she stopped me with a knee between the legs. I didn't see this coming and froze in shock as pain radiated from my crotch. Tabitha, snarling, put her hands on my shoulders and landed an even more painful follow up knee lift. My legs turned to jelly and I sank to my knees, then fell forward onto my face with a sobbing gasp, holding my aching crotch. Tabitha grabbed my shoes off my feet, then tried to get my panties off; I held on to them for dear life, and we struggled over them for a second before they ripped, sending Tabitha backwards with a surprised scream. This gave me enough time to roll over and get up, but I was still hurting pretty bad as a furious Tabitha advanced on me. She launched a quick slap and I tried to get my forearm up to block it, but my reflexes were dulled by the pain and she landed her hit with authority, turning my head with the blow. She followed up with a gut punch that had me gagging, then she braced her thigh behind mine and pushed my shoulders, dumping me to the ground. I was thankful for the carpet as the back of my head impacted the floor. Tabitha loomed over me, hands on her hips; without a word she kicked off her shoes, then shimmied out of her dress, down to just her panties and stockings. She reached down for me and I had a thought of trying to uppercut-slap her crotch, but she was too fast for me and I missed my chance. She pulled me into a headlock, bending me over, dragging me over to the shower, roughly throwing me into it.

"You filthy girl!" she shouted. "I'm going to get you cleaned up." She turned the shower on, keeping an eye on me as she checked the temperature; I didn't have the strength to move and concentrated on my breathing, hoping to bide my time to recover. Before that, though, Tabitha got behind me, wrapping her left arm around my torso. In her right hand she'd grabbed the detachable showerhead and turned it on me, spraying my skin with warm water. This actually felt kind of nice, and I had no idea what her plan was here until she moved the showerhead, activating the pulse setting and then aiming it straight at my bare pussy. To my shock I was squirming in no time as she directed the warm water jet into my crotch. I was a little sore from her earlier knees, and the warm water felt amazing as she seemed to know just where to aim it.  I felt her licking my neck as she worked the showerhead, her other hand cupping my left breast and tweaking my nipple. My hope that I could hold on and recover quickly shattered as tingling warmth spread out from my crotch. I turned my head and leaned back and Tabitha kissed me, her tongue running around my lips, then slipping into my mouth. I felt my hips starting to buck, seeking more sensation. She broke the kiss and I started cumming, my body shaking in her grip as she held me in place through my climax. After I'd finished she eased up her grip and I slid down her body until I was laying on my back on the floor of the shower, looking up at her. She was smiling down at me, not a nice friendly smile, but the arrogant grin of a hunter who'd trapped her prey. She turned the shower off, then peeled the soaked stockings off my legs. She told me to stand up, and I tried, but I only managed to get to my knees, my arms hanging over the lip of the tub. She pulled my wrists behind my back and tied them tight with one of my stockings - clearly not her first time doing this as she made a tight knot I couldn't undo. She pulled me out of the shower, leaving me laying on my chest, then planted one of her pale, manicured feet in front of my mouth, her toenails painted the same royal purple as her fingernails.

"Kiss my foot," she purred. I didn't have any choice and planted a dainty little smack on her big toe. Apparently this wasn't what she was looking for and she shoved her toes into my mouth, laughing as I gagged on them. She got bored of this and picked me up, draping me over her shoulders and carrying me into the bedroom. She threw me down on the bed, ordering me to get on all fours. I did, and she started spanking me, clearly enjoying the groans or shrieks she drew out of me with each ringing hit of her hand on my wet ass. "This is what you deserve," she told me in between hits. "You bad little girl. This is for your own good, do you know that? You should thank me, darling." She punctuated this with a particularly hard swat.

"Thank you!" I sobbed. "Thank you!"

"Hmmph. Roll over." I did as she told me, totally in her power now. She peeled off her panties with a smirk, then straddled my face, her front towards my feet. I could guess what was coming next as she slowly lowered her crotch until it was an inch from my face, her powerful musk filling my nose. I stuck my tongue out and went to work; I'd never really done this before and wasn't 100% sure what I was doing, but Tabitha seemed to be enjoying it. One of her hands buried itself in my hair, pulling my head up into her crotch, and the other went between her legs as she played with her clit. I figured I’d gotten the right spot when I heard her deep panting turning into rapid moans, and I licked her pussy with long tongue strokes there until she started cumming; she moaned for me not to stop and I didn’t until she almost fell off me with the force of her climax.

For a few minutes we just lay there next to each other, Tabitha contentedly panting, me a little less comfortable with her juices all over my face and my wrists still tied behind my back. Eventually she looked over at me: “Do you give up, sweetie?”

“I gave up twenty minutes ago,” I gasped.

“Mmm, all right. Roll over.” I did and she finally released me, untying my wrists, then giving my sore ass a playful slap. She set about getting dressed, which was the victor’s privilege; the loser, me,  was free to go, but I wouldn’t get my clothes back; I had to make the Walk of Shame, dressed in just a towel from the bathroom. I slunk back to the main room, my face flushing as everyone knew what had happened to me. My mother swooped in, putting her coat around me, then took me home to lick my wounds. It took a week for the swelling to go down, and a few days after that I was hankering for another visit to the club.

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International Incident Wrestling (M/F)

Me and my wife shared a new years resolution was to get in shape. Both of us were carrying a few extra pounds - I was slowly developing a little bit of a gut, while Sarah’s hips were getting wider and her ass was getting bigger; when she had to go up a pants size that was the last straw. Now frankly, she was more interested in getting in shape than me - her butt getting bigger didn’t bother me in the least - and after a few weeks she was having to drag me to the gym; I hated having to spend half an hour on an elliptical or recumbent bike after a long day at work. We tried boxercise classes, and that was interesting for a few months (I really liked seeing her dressed up in her boxing gear), but as winter turned into spring the novelty wore off and I was having a hard time keeping anywhere close to our exercise plan.

The solution my wife came up with was ordering a set of wrestling training videos and telling me we were going to have a match on June 1st, and she was going to be working out like a fiend to get in shape, and if I didn’t want to go the gym anymore that was (exact quote) “fine” and she’d just destroy me. She really got into this, making up fake flyers for the “International Incident” (I’m from Minnesota and she’s from Toronto, so it wasn’t as exotic as it sounds) and pasting them around the house, even using the webcam on her laptop to cut a ridiculous promo on me. She also decided whoever won would get some kind of prize, and whenever I asked about it she just smirked at me or flexed.

And, okay, her plan worked; I memorized those videos and started hitting the gym, and by June 1st, I’d dropped twenty pounds (admittedly, the first four or five were just water weight). Sarah gave me a time and address, a large private gym downtown. The men’s locker room was deserted except for a duffel bag that I opened to find my outfit, a set of American-flag patterned trunks. Luckily they had pockets, and I slipped the small tube of sexual lubricant I’d brought with me into the right pocket - an important part of my post-match plans.

Heading out of the locker room, I saw that my wife had rented us a full-sized wrestling ring; she was waiting for me in the middle of it wearing an outfit I'd never seen before, a one-piece Canadian flag-themed swimsuit. The sides were red with a thick white stripe in the middle and a large maple leaf on the chest and back. As I hopped up onto the ring apron I stopped to eyeball her and she posed for me, flexing her bigger than I remember arms with a roar. I slid into the ring - tossing the lube into a corner; Sarah was too busy posing to seem to notice- and we went toe to toe. I got a good look at her; my wife is a tall woman (5’10”, same height as me) with a very round face, deep green eyes, a slightly large nose (it’s elegant, I’m always telling her) and a heart-shaped mouth, touched in this case with waterproof ruby red lipstick. She had her dishwater blonde hair pulled up into a big ponytail in back with heavy bangs in front she was glaring at me under. I checked out her body: She’d dropped down to about 150 pounds with B-cup breasts and a still at least a medium (okay, medium-large) sized butt, and as I said her arms and legs were definitely stronger looking than I remembered. I was feeling a little flabby and hoping I wasn’t setting myself up for a big mistake.

Sarah offered me a test of strength lockup to start, and I accepted it; even knowing she’d been hitting the gym more often than me, I trusted my natural upper body strength to allow me to overpower her. It didn’t quite work out that way; we were evenly matched, both of us pushing on the other and unable to make any progress. Between the unending effort of trying to shift my wife and the hot ring lights, a few minutes of struggling was enough to set me perspiring, which did not escape my wife’s attention:

“You doing okay, hun?” she grunted, adding another burst of pressure. “You’re sweating.”

“You are too,” I pointed out.

“But my arms aren’t shaking.” Shit, she was right. “You know, if you’d come to the gym more-”

In desperation, I kicked her in the stomach. I’m not particularly proud of this move, but I knew she was going to win the test of strength if I didn’t do something soon, and she’d be impossible to live with afterwards. Sarah gasped as my foot slammed into her tummy, the strength going out of her arms, and I easily got her down to one knee, then pushed her to the mat on her back. I sat down on her midsection, but by now she’d recovered and looked furious. I couldn’t even hold her down for five seconds before she threw me off her and got to her feet with a growl.

“I’m just being a heel, sweetie!” I protested, taking an instinctive step back as she closed on me.

“You wanna see some heel moves? I’ll show you some heel moves!” she darted at me with a kick aimed between my legs. I saw this coming and dodged to her left, then hit her in the stomach with my best right-handed punch, trying to hit the same spot I’d kicked. I guess I got close enough, or she wasn’t braced, or both, because she gasped, covering where I’d hit her  her. Eager to press my advantage, I squared up with her, grabbed her in my strongest grip, and hefted her up over my head with a belly to belly suplex.

The sound of Sarah slamming into the mat was startlingly loud, and when I turned to took at my handiwork I saw her lying flat on her back, seemingly helpless. Now I guess my killer instinct hadn’t developed yet as instead of going for a pin I bent over her and screamed “Honey, are you okay?!” She mumbled something I couldn’t hear, and when I got even closer to try and catch it again, she struck so fast I didn’t know what was happening as she braced both hands behind my head and nailed me with a headbutt.

She released her grip and I stumbled away from her completely dazed; I think I remember her yelling “There’s your heel move!” but my bell was so thoroughly rung I’m not 100% sure. What I do know is she got up and kicked my right leg out, dumping me on the mat. I lay there stunned for a second staring up at the overhead lights, then was snapped back to reality as my wife dropped an elbow into my stomach. She got up and pulled me to my feet, going behind me and grabbing the back of my right leg with her left arm. With a feminine grunt she lifted me up in a textbook teardrop suplex, smashing my head down onto the mat at what felt like a scarily high angle. I collapsed to the mat in a pile, feeling like I barely had time to take a pained breath before she picked me up again. She got behind me, wrapping her arms around my midsection, then tossed me back over her head in a release German suplex; I hit the ground on the top of my head with a huge crash and was left laying on my face wondering what I had gotten myself into.

Sarah rolled me onto my back with her foot, then sat down on my chest, smiling down at me as she started a slow count. With a second to catch my breath, I pushed her off at 2 and got to my knees, although I was still hurting pretty bad. My wife stalked me as I recovered, and as I made it to my feet she charged in, leading with her elbow aimed at my stomach. I managed to turn enough for her to miss, grabbing her shoulder as she went past, turning her to face me and kneeing her hard in the stomach. She bent over and I grabbed her left leg, hooking it up, then took a deep breath and gave her a fisherman suplex, lifting her over my head and bringing her down on her back, keeping her leg hooked in a pin. I started counting - slowly; I figured that was only fair since she’d done the same for me - and Sarah kicked out at two. We both got to our knees facing each other and she held her hands up for a test of strength.

Now I’d managed to match her power to start the match, but I was panting, hurt and covered in sweat, and her conditioning seemed better than mine - honestly, I felt like if I gave her another test of strength she’d win it handily. I lifted my hands like I was going to accept and then darted forward, surprising her with a hard gut punch. She flinched and I stood up, dragging her with me by the arm, quickly whipping her into one of the corners. Whenever I’d practiced this, my partner had turned and impacted the turnbuckles back-first, but I guess my wife had missed that lesson as she crashed into corner chest-first with a scream, holding on to the top ropes to stay standing. I charged in after her, lowering my shoulder and tackling her just above her butt, squashing her up against the turnbuckles. She was stunned and i pressed my attack, turning her to face me, looping her arms over the top ropes, and started driving shoulder thrusts into her midsection. I could hear her moaning with each hit, and I was feeling pretty good; I literally had my opponent on the ropes as I nailed her with shoulder thrust after shoulder thrust, only laying off after a dozen hits. I stood and checked her condition; she had her chin down on her chest, drooling. I thought about suplexing her out of the corner, but decided against it in favor of pulling her suit down. This was a little tricky with her arms over the ropes - I had to take her left arm off the ropes, pull the strap down, loop it back over the rope, take her right arm off the ropes, pull the strap down, loop it back over the rope, and only then was I able to peel the top of her suit down, bursting out laughing to see she was wearing red sequined maple leaf pasties over her nipples. I reached out to peel them off, but by now I’d given my wife quite a long time to recover and she kicked me right between the legs. I screamed at the unexpected pain, taking a step back, holding my balls and bending over.

“You okay, sweetie?” Sarah asked. I nodded with typical male stubbornness. “Good.” She grabbed me by the shoulders, spinning me around, shoving my back up against the turnbuckle, straightening me up before kicking me hard in the stomach. I tried to bend over, but Sarah was right there; she punched me in the same spot in my tummy, leaving me unable to stop her from looping my arms over the top ropes, reversing our earlier position.

Instead of the shoulder thrusts I’d fed her, she started laying in backhand chops; she’d clearly been practicing these as they hurt like hell. After only two I was biting down tears, and the third made me scream, almost as loud as the smack of her hand impacting my chest. I got my right arm off the top rope, drawing it back for my own chop. I guess I took too long as Sarah simply ducked under it, darting forward and burying her fist in my stomach. I had to lean against her to avoid falling down; she put her hands on my shoulders to push me back against the turnbuckle, but as she did so I got my arms off the ropes and grabbed for her pasties, peeling them off in one quick motion. For some reason - I don’t remember what I was thinking - I held them up, taunting my wife, who grabbed them out of my hands, and before I knew what she was doing stuck them over my eyes.

Now they weren’t actually touching my eyes - the top was touching my brow and the bottom was touching my cheeks - but they left me blind; I reached up to try and remove them, but before I could do so Sarah landed another backhand chop. The pain was incredible, and without my arms over the top ropes, I fell down, hitting the back of my head on the bottom turnbuckle. Groaning, I managed to peel the pasties off and throw them away, looking up just in time to see my wife’s big butt coming towards my face. I barely had time to take a breath before she nailed the stinkface, pushing my head into the turnbuckle as she worked her sweaty ass against me. Only her suit kept my nose going right up her asshole; I got my hands up braced against her rump and tried to push her away, but I had no leverage. I kicked my legs against the mat, having trouble breathing in her ass smother; I remember feeling a sense of disbelief that I might be about to lose the match to such a humiliating move. My hands fell away from Sarah’s butt, and she leaned forward just enough for me to catch a breath; I think she was waiting to see if I was beat up past the point of offering any resistance, and I was happy to let her think so, greedily sucking down air. She turned to face me with a smile, grabbing the middle ropes and getting ready to press her crotch against my face; I waited until she committed to the move and then darted out of the corner underneath her, getting to my feet as Sarah crotched herself on the bottom turnbuckle with a scream. She fell so her back was on the mat, both knees hooked over the bottom rope, her shins and feet hanging out of the ring. I dropped a leg across her throat, leaving her temporary helpless and gasping; I wanted to go for a big move and dragged her up to her feet. My legdrop seemed to have left her having a little trouble breathing and I went for a chokeslam, figuring out quickly that I wasn’t strong enough to lift her by the neck with one hand like on TV; I had to get my other hand under her big rump and that actually did most of the lifting, but I got her all the way up, then slammed her down to the mat, hearing the wind getting knocked out of her. I went for a pin, but she surprised me by kicking out; although she managed to keep the match going, this seemed to be the limit of her exertions as she couldn’t stop me from peeling her outfit completely off, leaving her totally nude. She managed to recover enough to stagger back to her feet, but she still looked pretty wrecked. She aimed a slap at my face, but I easily smacked it away, grabbing her to whip her into the ropes. At the last second she surprised me, holding on when I tried to launch her across the ring, and I ended up the one getting thrown; I ran into the ropes, turning and bouncing off them as I’d practiced in training, running straight at my wife, who deployed a beautiful dropkick I didn’t know she knew how to do, the bottoms of her bare feet smacking straight into my face. I ended up flat on my back, and Sarah repaid my earlier move by getting her own legdrop across my neck; I wheezed helplessly, trying and failing to take a breath. Sarah pulled me up into a sitting position, keeping a grip on my hair with her left hand, and started laying in her backhand chops with her right hand.

My chest had started bruising up after the earlier chops she’d laid in, and these hurt even more; each one slammed so much white-hot pain into me that I couldn’t even scream, let alone think about fighting back. Sarah chopped me down like a tree, finally releasing my hair and giving me one more that hit me so hard I spun to land on my chest. She honestly could have pinned me right here as I lay there in shock, but of course she wanted to go for a big move; she pulled me to my feet and whipped me into one of the corners. I barely managed to twist my body around so I hit the turnbuckles with my back - I could only imagine how much slamming into them chest-first would have hurt - and Sarah was right behind me, nailing me with a big body splash, pressing me against the turnbuckles. I had to lean back to stay standing, preparing myself for my wife to press her attack; she quickly yanked my trunks down to my ankles, but before going any further she froze, peering down between my feet; I realized this was the corner where I’d left my tube of lubricant before the match had started, which felt like forever ago, and it was visible, half-covered by my trunks.

“Now what’s this?” my opponent asked, reaching down and picking up the lube.

“Gonna use that on you after I win,” I wheezed.

“After you win! Pretty big ‘if’, there, don’t you think, champ? Looks like you can barely stand up!”

“Just gotta catch my breath. Then -”

“What about if I want to use this on you right now?” Without breaking eye contact, she squeezed a big, greasy gob on her right hand. I’d gone totally limp during the extreme pain she’d inflicted on me earlier, but she knew just how to work my cock, and a few fast pumps with just her index finger and thumb got me hard; her lubed right hand wrapped around my shaft and she started jerking me off. I was paralyzed as her soft, slick, warm hand flew up and down my rod, in shock at how good this felt. She pressed her upper body against me, digging her nipples into my chest, dipping her mouth down to suck on my neck. I knew I had to get out of the corner before she made me blow my load, but I was still so weak that when I tried to push my way out she just pressed me back into the corner.

“Let me out,” I gasped.

“No,” she giggled. “Why don’t you just accept it? There’s no shame in losing to the best. And,” she purred in my ear, “I’m the best. Right?”

“You’re a mean lady. I thought Canadians were supposed to be nice!”

“Aw, honey. You don’t think I’m being nice? You want more than a handy, is that it? How about I lube up my tits and finish you that way, then? Just lay down. That sounds good, doesn’t it?”

Fuck, that did sound good. But I wasn’t quite finished yet; Sarah had backed away just a little - to let me lay down - and this gave me enough room to launch a lightning-fast shove.  She had, understandably, seemed to have thought I was finished, and yelled in surprise as I pushed her so hard she did two backwards somersaults. I charged her, and as she got up to a shaky kneeling position I landed a Shining Wizard, my right knee slamming into her face. Sarah went down on her back, and for a second I worried she was seriously hurt; she looked okay on closer inspection, but I decided it was time to put this away. I rolled her onto her chest, squatting over her, locking her arms in a full nelson; I pulled her up to her feet, and she’d recovered enough to struggle, rubbing her bare ass against my crotch. I ignored this as best I could, planting my feet and taking a deep breath before lifting her over my head with a full nelson suplex. I tried to land her on her head, but I think most of the weight fell on her neck and shoulders; as I released her and rolled off she lay on her chest, limp. I flipped her over, pulling her up into a seated position, getting behind her and sitting down, pressing my chest against her back. We both had aching necks and backs from the suplexes we’d been doing, so I thought it would be smart to target that part of her body and try and wring a submission out of her. With this in mind I got a full nelson on her, combining this with a bodyscissors, bracing my feet against her inner thighs to make sure she couldn’t escape. She came to life and I could quickly tell this was hurting her badly; she was making the same little gasping moans as when she’d broken her toe a few years back. I shook her back and forth, and she screamed, but when I asked if she wanted to give up she yelled no; I could hear her trying not to cry and failing. She made a ferocious attempt to escape, trying to get up - foiled by my feet pushing against her thighs - then by rocking back and forth, which did nothing, just wasting her energy as I kept the nelson and scissors hooked in. When she gave up on this, she slumped back against me, emitting low, panting sobs. My wife can be pretty stubborn, but she was also clearly hurting quite badly. “Come on, sweetie,” I whispered in her ear. “You put up a good fight, but I got you. You ready to give up?”

“Fuck you,” she sobbed. “I’m not going to give up to a lame finishing hold.”

Ah, shit. Was she really going to refuse to give up because she thought my submission hold wasn’t cool enough? I released her and she flopped to her back, her right hand reaching back and rubbing her neck. I was sure I could pin her right here, but thought better of this; if she wanted a big dramatic finish, well, that’s what she was going to get. I pulled her up to her feet, bending her over in front of me, pulling her head between my legs; I bent over her, hooking my arms around her stomach, and stood up, lifting her up into a seated position on my shoulders. Reminding myself that this is what she’d wanted I slammed her down, powerbombing her with as much force as I could muster; she found the energy to emit a piercing scream as I drove her back into the mat.

Surely I could pin her now; it looked like I could probably pin her for a ten thousand count from the way she lay flat on her back beyond any resistance. But I wanted to really make sure to put the exclamation point on the match, so I went around to her head, kneeling next to her right shoulder. I lifted her upper body off the mat, fitting her neck into my left arm, slapping on a dragon sleeper. I kept the hold pretty loose; I mostly wanted to keep her in position and not fighting back, and she was already so beat all she could do was get her hands around my arm as I lightly choked her.

This left my right hand free for my real attack. I started out teasing her breasts, feeling her nipples get hard under my fingertips; I cupped them in turn, hearing my wife moan before I started working her tits in earnest. She barely struggled, even when my hand slid down her belly between her thighs - all she would have to do to stop me was closer he legs, but she didn’t move as I slowly inserted one finger. I started pumping, her only reaction more moaning and her hips weakly thrusting - seeking more sensation, it seemed, and she was about to get it as I started making a come-hither motion with my fingers; I knew how to work my wife just as well as she knew how to work me, and I knew the match was over as she held onto my left arm with both of her hands, riding out my attack, her body writhing as much as she could in my grip. She finished with a slow-building, moaning scream, one of her hands coming off my arm to blindly flail at me in a signal that she’d finished and I should stop; I released her, slowly - she almost flopped straight down to the mat - lowering her down to her back, hooking her leg and counting her out to officially end the match.

Sarah took a minute to come around, taking a few deep breaths and then telling me I’d won and I could collect my prize - whatever I wished to do to or with her. She gave my hard cock a squeeze and asked if I knew what I wanted.

I did - anal. Sarah would sometimes indulge me with this on my birthday, but knowing it wasn’t her favorite I found it hard to enjoy most of the time; but here it was my reward, so I wasn’t going to feel guilty.  I told her to go get the lube from the corner, and when she started to get up told her to crawl there, enjoying the view of her big ass swaying as she slithered over to the corner. She stuck the tube in her mouth and then crawled back; I took it from her, telling her to stay put and going behind her. I spread my wife’s asscheeks wide, savoring her yelp as I started lubing her hole (she can’t have been surprised - I think it might have been a little cold). I applied a lot - I didn’t want to hurt her after all - but before I could get down to collecting my anal prize a wave of patriotism overcame me as I beheld my wife’s defeated Canadian butt. I saluted and began singing:

“Oh-ho, say, I can see, right up my wife’s-”

“Stop!” Sarah shrieked. “I’m embarrassed enough as it is! Would you just get on with it please?”

Well, I was very excited to proceed, but it only seemed fair to serenade her with her own country’s anthem first; I took a deep breath, and: “Ohhhh, myyyy wiiiife’s assssssshhhooo-”

Sarah pushed backwards, the large amount of lube making it easy for her to slide all the way up my cock; my singing turned into a gurgling moan as she bottomed out, her fat ass slamming into my upper thighs and waist. She started moving back and forth, getting about halfway up my shaft before pushing back down; the sensation was amazing, her ass so tight it almost bordered on unpleasant, silky smooth with the lube. I tried to hang on, hands on my hips, and enjoy myself a bit, but my grunting, sweating wife was making quick work of me. Either she heard my moans or felt how hard my cock was as she knew what a powerful effect she was having on me: “How you doing back there, big guy? Seems like you’re not going to last too long!” Reminding myself that this was my reward after all and she was getting a little too dom for someone who’d lost, I started spanking her big ass, sending sweat flying with each hit as she kept pistoning herself on my rod. After a few slaps I decided that after all I was happy with her doing the work and settled in to enjoy the ride, hands on my hips, staying as steady as I could as she fucked me. Between the soft, slick tightness of her ass, the great view, and her grunts as she pushed herself back and forth on me, I only lasted another minute; as I started shooting my load she stopped moving, instead clenching with enough force that I almost fell backwards, having to grab her hips and hold on as she flexed and relaxed, flooding my mind with pleasure. I finished and pulled out, flopping down to the mat on my back. Sarah loomed over me on her knees; I pulled her down for a hug, her loose hair tickling my ear.

“Hey,” she whispered. “You’re gonna give me a rematch, right?”

Scott's Tag Boxing Adventure Chapter 7

Our new personas caught some attention - we found ourselves challenged by two sisters going by Anna and Elsa, apparently cosplaying as the heroines from a Disney movie. Staci made me watch the movie Frozen, and I'm not sure it really helped. (Catchy songs, though!)
The girls weren't actually named Anna and Elsa (real names Gretchen and Camille), but I'm just going to call them that from here on out. The sisters were just a little older than us - 26 and 24. Elsa was of course the older sister, a 5'10" or so willowy blonde sporting tiny tits with small pink nipples and no butt. I guessed she hadn't been doing this too long from her noodle-thin arms and lack of stomach muscles, but if you didn't look too close, she did resemble cartoon Elsa at first glace; she'd at least nailed the hairstyle, a blonde braid that hung below her boobs, and her face didn't look terribly far off. She was outfitted with light blue gloves and trunks, with her silk shorts sporting a icicle pattern around the bottom, and her gloves covered in a glittery snowflake motif.

Anna was shorter and thicker than her sister, 5'7" or so and maybe 155 pounds with wide hips, fat little tits, and much bigger arms than her sister. She'd likewise nailed the hairstyle, two braids that came down just past her chest, and even had the white streak that cartoon Anna sported for most of the movie. Her face wasn't as close, just a bit too round and sporting a little bit of a snaggletooth, but if you squinted it wasn't a bad likeness. Her gear was apparently themed off the party scene with forest green gloves and black trunks and boots.

For the first time we were facing opponents with entrance music; after me, Staci, and Carol had hit the ring, "Let It Go" blasted through the gym's tinny speakers as our opponents came down to the ring. I had to suppress a smile as our opponents stayed in character right from the beginning, with Anna asking Staci if she wanted to build a snowman as me and Elsa headed outside the ring.

Staci declined this offer (even after being told it didn't have to be a snowman) and Carol waved the fighters together to start the match. They started feeling each other out with jabs and I had to reflect on how far Staci had come as she traded quick, probing punches with her opponent. Staci scored the first solid hit of the fight, managing to work around to Anna's left and slip a hook into her opponent's side. Anna flinched, just for a second, but long enough for Staci to land a right jab, turning it into a combo as she walked punches up from Anna's stomach, ending with a short left uppercut that knocked the heavier fighter down on her butt, dazed.

Carol came in to count and Anna was up by four, getting a standing eight count to collect her marbles. She took a deep breath and the fighters closed up. Staci may have been just a tad overconfident as she looked to repeat her earlier success, trying to get around to Anna's left again, but her opponent was wise to her move this time. Every time Staci started moving to get into position, Anna would turn to face her and grab her in a clinch. After the third time this happened I started feeling like they had been hugging for more time than they'd been fighting - I know Anna was a Disney princess, but this was ridiculous.

Staci seemed to be getting frustrated as well as her face was getting alarmingly red. I yelled at her to keep cool and she nodded without taking her eyes off her opponent. Staci yielded the initiative, taking up a defensive posture and inviting Anna to attack. This seemed to be a wise move as Anna closed in throwing punches that were too slow and tentative to crack Staci's guard. I saw Staci laying a trap, dropping her hands just enough to leave a tempting opening for a shot at her face. Sure enough Anna fell for it, drawing her fist back and throwing a big right hand. Staci weaved left out of the way, darting in and slamming a hard counter punch into Anna's stomach. Anna groaned, her hands instinctively coming down to cover the spot where she'd been hit, and Staci rocked her with a right hook to the jaw.

Anna went down, but she shook off the cobwebs and was back on her feet before Carol could come over and start counting. She waved Staci on and my girlfriend attacked.

Just like her previous offensive, Staci couldn't get a good glove on her opponent. Anna was a solid wall, going for the clinch when Staci came too close to cracking her guard. Staci was starting to get winded; she was using much more energy than her opponent, and I was worried about her getting rope-a-doped. I yelled for her to calm down and think and she backed off, taking a few deep breaths while glaring at her opponent. She came back into range, unloading an assault focused on Anna's chest, trying to get some leather on her opponent's tits, here trying to draw Anna's guard away, there trying to hook punches around it.

It didn't work, but I saw Staci's real plan - she managed to pin Anna's guard where it was, which was just too high to cover her crotch as Staci slipped a left below the belt. Anna gasped when this hit home, stunned long enough for Staci to rock her with a combo to the head, ending with an uppercut under her chin.

This put Anna down for a two count before she was back up. I hoped she was getting woozy and her defenses would start slipping, but I saw this wasn't the case as Staci's renewed attack still couldn't get past Anna's guard. I was really worried now - the only way Staci was able to inflict any significant damage on her opponent seemed to be by luring her into making a mistake, and with her solid body, it seemed like it was going to take more hits than Staci could reasonably deliver to put Anna down for the count.

"Try Something else!" I yelled.

"That's really helpful!" Staci yelled back at me over her shoulder. "Thank you! I wouldn't have thought of that!"

Despite her sarcastic comment she did come up with a new tactic. She went back on the offensive, and I saw her plan unfold as Anna pulled her into yet another clinch. This time instead of trying to get out Staci kissed her. Even across the ring I could see Anna's eyes open wide in shock. Staci's right glove went between her legs, no doubt rubbing Anna's pussy through her trunks.

Carol made no move to break this up, and only Elsa yelling at her sister from the enemy corner woke Anna up enough to shove Staci away from her. Anna was quite flushed, and now seemed scared of a cackling Staci, who stated chasing her around the ring. Elsa called for her sister to  tag. Anna was too close to her own corner to try and trap her, so Staci let her go, coming over to confer with me; I told her she was doing great and to come tag me in when she started getting tired.

Across the ring Elsa had come through the ropes and was glaring at my girlfriend over her blue, snowflake-pattern gloves. They closed up and Staci started getting the worst of it almost immediately. If Staci had been fresh I think they would have been evenly matched, but my girlfriend was flagging just a little, and Elsa quickly got the upper hand, using her reach to punish Staci with stiff hits. She came under my girl's guard and hooked punches into Staci's stomach, mixing it up by getting on Staci's side and slipping hits behind her guard into her face. Staci couldn't close the distance with her opponent, and I yelled for a tag. Staci started trying to back towards our corner, but Elsa moved to cut her off from my half of the ring.

Hoping to buy some time I yelled "Elsa!" She took her eyes off Staci, and fumbling for something else, I yelled "Let Her go!"
"That's not it," she hissed. I took a deep breath and started belting out: "Let it go, let it goooooo..." Her eyebrows sent up and she crossed her gloves under her chest, wanting more. I kept going: "Turn away and slam the doOOooOOor!" I had to tune out Staci laughing in disbelief, but it seemed to be working:  When I got to "Let the storm rage onnnnnnnn!" Elsa smiled and backed off, bowing to me as Staci walked over to our corner and made the tag.

I got between the ropes and faced off with Elsa. From watching her fight I knew her range was her biggest weapon, but with her overall willowy frame I wasn't exactly filled with fear and I came right at her with a straightforward attack, probing her guard with jabs, looking for an opening to fit a heavier punch into.
I quickly found out that I'd underestimated my opponent. Elsa's counter-punches didn't have that much power, but her long arms and long reach were harder to get past than I'd planned, and I just couldn't close up with her; she had mastered backstepping, and I found myself walking into punch after punch as she danced away from me.

I tried to back her into the ropes or, even better, a corner, but she was wise to this - every time I thought I had her trapped she'd get around my side. I hadn't landed a single punch on her yet and her weaker hits were starting to take a toll. Inevitably I made a mistake, dropping my hands low to block a below the belt left, and she unloaded two hits to my stomach, leaving me open for a slower, more powerful punch to the head.

This put me down on the mat. Before Carol could even come over and get to one, my opponent had pulled down my trunks, and I barely had time to take a single breath before my cock was in her mouth. I was only semi-hard after the beating she'd been giving me, but I quickly got to full extension as she blew me, her eyes not leaving mine as her lips slid up and down my shaft.

As great as this felt, I wasn't quite beat enough to just lay there and take this, so I pushed her off and got to my feet. I have to admit that her oral attack had thrown me off balance; my head was spinning, and the standing 8 count Carol gave me was only enough time to shake some of the fog off.

Staci was screaming for a tag - unsurprisingly, she didn't much care for the sight of her boyfriend getting embarrassingly beaten up, unable to stop his opponent from sucking his cock - and I figured this was a good idea as I was a bit woozy. But as soon as Elsa saw me backing up she challenged me. "Come on," she motioned me on with her gloves. "You and me. Let's finish it." I glanced over my shoulder at Staci, and decided to go for it. I turned back to my opponent and squared off with her. We both circled warily for a moment, Elsa seemingly content to wait for me to make the first move.

I prepared to attack again, but then I thought better of this. I thought I finally had Elsa's number - she had one great skill, which was her footwork, but that and her reach were her only strengths; if I could neutralize them and come to grips with her, she'd be in deep trouble.

So how to defeat her best weapons? I realized I'd been playing to her strength chasing her. Instead I decided to make her come to me. I took up a defensive stance and we stared at each other over our gloves. After a moment she waved me on towards her. I shook my head no and she dropped her guard, putting her gloves on her hips and glaring at me.

"Are you scared? I command you to come fight me!"

"Not scared. Just respectful of a worthy opponent. Come get me." I waved her on myself, hoping she'd accept my invitation. She smiled and came at me carefully, snapping crisp jabs at me, staying at the edge of her range ready to retreat in a flash. Knowing I had to lure her further in, I let her pull my hands out of position, inviting her to get a few hits in on me. She staggered me with a left to the stomach and came in with a big looping right aimed squarely at my jaw.

It never connected. She had left a huge hole in her guard and I poured a quick combo through it, peppering her stomach with hooks, then moving my target up and landing a left and a right into her chest. She screamed as my right glove squashed her left tit flat against her ribs. She went to her footwork, trying to back up, but she was too close now and I stuck on her, getting unanswered hits as she covered up and tried to get away from me. When she tried to get around to my left side she walked right into a big left hook that hit her in the temple. She went down on her chest with a satisfying smack.

Returning her earlier favor I pulled her trunks off before Carol even arrived to count. I rolled Elsa onto her back and dove between her legs, hearing her gasp as my tongue pressed into her pussy. I was in heaven for about four or five seconds until Anna ruined it by yelling at her sister to fight back, and Elsa snapped her legs closed around my head in a scissors hold.
To Carol's credit she broke this up quickly, scolding Elsa that this was a boxing match, not a wrestling bout, and that even the Queen had to obey the rules. Carol gave her a standing 8 count and then waved us together.

My strategy seemed to have worked as Elsa looked quite winded, sweaty and flushed as we closed. She had definitely lost some of her speed as I was able to lunge in and close up with her. Just as I prepared the opening left in a combo her right glove snaked out, going low, and before I could move her glove slammed right into my balls. I went down with a primal scream of pain, curling up as Carol gave Elsa an official warning. Elsa came over to where I was whimpering on the mat and apologized, saying she had meant to get my dick. (I still don't know if this would have been better or worse!) Carol started counting, but Elsa pushed her away from me and actually helped me back up to my feet, draping my left arm over her shoulders and supporting me on my wobbly legs.

Of course as soon as Carol barked "Fight!" my opponent slammed her left glove into my stomach. I gagged and couldn't raise my arms to defend myself as she laid more punches in, knocking the wind out of me with seven or eight hits. I was totally dependent on her to remain vertical and she unleashed her finishing move, fitting her left boxing glove snugly over my cock, sliding it all the way down. I groaned as her boxing glove started sliding up and down my rod.

"Ssh, don't move," she purred in my ear. "Just let me finish you. Nobody can resist my royal glove. Doesn't it feel wonderful?"

It did feel wonderful. I probably would have just given it up in a single match, but Staci's piercing voice screaming at me that if I didn't do something she was going to smash my PlayStation 4 with a baseball bat took me back to my senses. I managed to push a resisting Elsa far enough away so that her glove came off my cock. She clinched me, trying to get my dick between her thighs, but I backed her off with a stiff left to the body. Her eyes were fixed on my cock, not leaving much doubt what her next move would be, and sure enough she lunged in, trying to get her glove back around my dick. I stopped her with a right to the face, leaving her stunned for a follow up to the body I got as much power into as I could. She gagged as the finishing left hook slammed into her belly button. I lined up the knockout blow, a right-handed uppercut that exploded under her chin, knocking her down to the canvas.

Elsa was looking pretty beat, not even trying to get up, just covering her tummy and coughing. This was fine with me. I sat down on her hips, trapping her arms at her sides, then leaned down and lowered my mouth to her chest. She struggled weakly under me, but she couldn't unseat me as I took her right nipple between my lips, hearing her panting as I sucked on it. I switched to her left, flicking it with my tongue. I heard Carol telling me to let my opponent up; I ignored her and switched again, running my tongue around Elsa's hard little nipple. After a repeated warning Carol grabbed me under the arms, dragging me off my opponent. I was furious with Carol, but I didn't have time to argue with her as my opponent started getting up.

Even with Carol cutting my attack short, it seemed the damage was done. Elsa stumbled to her feet, and even after Carol's slow standing 8 count, I could tell she was having a lot of trouble shaking the cobwebs off. I came at her aggressively and her earlier speed was all but gone; she managed a single half step back in the time it took me to take two full steps, and I had no trouble knocking away her sloppy guard. I slammed my left glove into her stomach and my opponent moaned, crossing her gloves over her midsection. I gathered all of my strength into one blow, a uppercut that started down around my knees and hit Elsa with enough force to snap her head back and deposit her rather ungracefully on her back. I'm sure I could have just let Carol come over and count her out, but I wanted to put her out with a little style - and besides, she'd put up a pretty good fight, and I figured she'd earned a nice little treat.

So I got down on the mat, pushing her long legs aside and blowing on her pussy. Carol came over but didn't bother counting, content to let me finish my opponent as I chose, and I buried my face in Elsa's crotch, giving her pussy a kiss before running my tongue up and down her slit. Anna called for her to get up again, but this time it was beyond her big sister's power; I pressed my tongue between my opponent's pussy lips, getting as deep as I could, my hard cock rubbing against the mat as I ate her out. Her hips gently pressed against me, and I felt one of her gloves on the back of my head, pushing my face further between her legs. Staci cheered me on as I worked, my tongue getting just a little tired as Elsa moaned under me. Her glove moved, replaced by her legs locking around my head again, but this time in instinct as I pushed her over the edge. I kept at her as best I could, although after a few seconds of squeezing I felt my head was going to pop. The moment passed, and as Elsa started coming down from her climax I could feel the strength leaving her body; her legs relaxed until they fell away, and my opponent was left laying totally limp on the mat, eyes closed, covered in sweat.

I stood and let Carol count the knockout. Elsa was dead weight and I helped Carol drag her out of the ring. I guess this also counted as a tag as Staci and Anna both got between the ropes, approaching and squaring off in the center of the ring. As I took my place in our corner Staci was trying to crack her opponent's guard. Anna knocked away a few hits and when Staci tried to dig a left under her hands grabbed my girlfriend in a clinch. Instead of pushing her away, Staci wrapped her arms around her opponent, pulling her closer. I thought I saw Staci's strategy as she pressed her breasts into her opponent's, teasing Anna's nipples with her own hard tips. My hunch was confirmed as Staci's thigh went between Anna's legs, slowly rubbing against her opponent's pussy.

I was curious to see if Carol was going to bother breaking this up; she had gone to a neutral corner and leaned against the ringpost, arms crossed. It looked like she wasn't going to come to Anna's rescue.

I turned back to the center of the ring as Staci kissed Anna, the heavier fighter making a deep moan in her throat as Staci locked lips with her. Anna tried to break the clinch, at first apparently not very hard. Staci grunted in annoyance as Anna finally drew her arms back and managed to shove her away.

It was a brief respite. Anna tried to back Staci off, but her punches were sluggish, and my girlfriend easily slapped them all away. Perhaps Anna would have been better off just covering up, as her sloppy punches quickly left a hole in her guard that Staci slipped a left hook through, her glove slamming into her opponent's soft tummy. Anna groaned and dropped her guard to cover her stomach, and Staci simply stepped towards her and attacked Anna's chest with her mouth, taking her opponent's right nipple between her lips. Anna stood there frozen (no pun intended) with a almost comical look of shock on her face as Staci greedily sucked on her tits. Anna's hands dropped to her sides, and Staci abruptly drew back, slamming a massive right hook into her opponent's stomach. Anna took a stumbling step back, coughing and covering herself. Staci pushed her backwards, easily forcing her across the ring to the ropes. She straightened Anna up with a left cross to her face. Anna leaned back against the ropes, defenseless. Staci hung her off the top rope, both arms draped over it for support. If Anna had any strength left she could simply stand and lift her arms, but my girlfriend had really done a number on her, and Anna sagged, only her arms over the top rope holding her up.

This left her totally helpless, and it was up to her opponent to finish her. Staci turned to give me an exaggerated wink before stepping up to Anna, leaning in and licking her opponent's neck. I could see Anna shivering as Staci fit her glove between Anna's legs and started rubbing her pussy.

I think Anna still having her trunks on actually hurt her here; the outside of Staci's thumbguard on both gloves was silky smooth just for rubbing, but Anna's silk shorts probably felt even better. Whatever the case, she didn't fight back, her face and chest quickly flushing as Staci pressed her glove into her pussy and sucked on her neck. Anna's eyes closed and her head rolled back as her panting got louder and louder. Staci went in for the kill, her glove a blur between her opponent's legs. Anna came, her whole body shaking as the climax blew through her, wrapping both arms around Staci and squeezing as she cried out in pleasure. Then, spent, she released Staci, her head drooping forward on her chest. Staci pulled her off the ropes and the heavier fighter flopped to the mat with the graceless tumble of a woman who wasn't getting up again.

Sure enough she didn't stir, even as Staci gently rolled her over onto her back; Anna just lay there with a sleepy, contented look on her face as she was counted out to end the match.

Now it was time to celebrate. Staci started nudging Anna awake as Elsa got back into the ring.

I'd really enjoyed our fight, and I didn't feel the need to humiliate our opponents. I saw that Staci was busy with Anna, about to have the losing fighter go down on her; I lead Elsa over to one of the corners, motioning her in. She put her back against the ringpost, draping her arms over the top rope, bracing her legs on the bottom rope, parting her legs for me and giving me a wry, go-ahead smile. I accepted her invitation, pressing my body against hers, leaning in and kissing her. If she minded the taste of her own juices she didn't show it, pushing her head forward to meet my lips, pressing her tongue into my mouth.

Lower down I put my gloves on her hips, steadying myself as I got ready to start fucking her. Elsa blindly shed one of her gloves, reaching between us and guiding me in. The tip of my cock parted her lips and I pressed into her, managing to both moan and continue kissing her as I thrust in to the hilt. Elsa broke the kiss, leaning her chin on my right shoulder as I started fucking her, opening with very long, very slow strokes, savoring her hot, tight pussy. "Faster," Elsa moaned in my ear. I went faster, shortening up my strokes, giving her quick, deep thrusts. "Faster!" she grunted. I went as fast as I could, only moving a few inches, my hips moving as quick as I could. Her arms squeezed tight around my body, and her pussy squeezed my cock. I found myself gasping for breath, sweating in her grip as I pumped her for all she was worth. "I'm going to cum," I gasped. "I'm going to cum!"

"Go ahead. I want to feel you cum. I want to feel you cum inside me - "

I couldn't hold out anymore and bowed to her wishes; I closed my eyes, my thrusts getting slightly erratic as I started cumming, unloading in her pussy. Her walls squeezed even tighter as I let loose with spurt after spurt, my legs shaking as all of the energy left my body in a single moment. I leaned against Elsa for support, twitching as she playfully pulsed her pussy muscles around my deflating cock.

After a minute I pulled out; Staci was just finishing up, and me and Elsa watched her climax on Anna's face with a scream of pleasure.

All that was left was taking the post-fight pictures. We started with the usual stuff - me with my boot on Elsa's chest, flexing, and Staci sitting on Anna's face, snarling in victory at the camera. We also took some goofier pictures, including a family portrait-style one with me and Elsa standing, one arm around each other's shoulders, our other arms around a kneeling Anna and Staci. (My personal two favorites: One of Anna and Staci hugging, where Anna has her eyes closed in delight and Staci's trying to do the rabbit ears behind Anna's head, but still has her boxing glove on; and one where I'm keeling in front of Elsa with it looking like she's knighting me, laying one boxing glove on top of my head.)

This might have been my favorite fight so far, but sadly, it was also our last one for quite a while. 

We were getting ready to graduate college, and we had to get our lives in order before we'd have time to keep going with this sport we loved so much.

Still, there was one more memorable fight in our direct future...

Scott's Tag Boxing Adventure Chapter 6

After the embarrassing beating we received at the hands of our last opponents, it took quite a while before we were ready to fight again; when we'd recovered, we asked Carol to find us a set of opponents who would give us a solid but not insurmountable challenge.

She came back to us with a pair named the Killer Bees - I don't know if they picked this name because they liked the yellow and black color scheme, because both their names started with B (Bethany and Beatrice), or even if it was due to them both having B cups. I'd guess the middle reason, but we never got around to asking.

I have to say they really committed to the gimmick - they had black and yellow ring gear (black gloves with yellow trim, black and yellow diagonally striped trunks, black boots with yellow laces) and even had matching makeup, black and yellow eye shadow and lipstick (upper lip black, lower lip yellow). They'd even died their hair to match, Bethany with black highlights in her blonde hair, Beatrice's a mirror image of blonde highlights in her black hair. 

Bethany was a little older than us, mid 20's or so, standing 5'8" and starting to develop a telltale boxer's physique - muscled arms, big shoulders, a six-pack, small B-cup tits and no ass. Her partner Beatrice was a vet in her 30's and was at the other end of the spectrum, standing 5'6" and slowly losing her shape to oncoming middle age - her arms were still well-muscled but just slightly flabby, with her six-pack was slowly turning into fat, and her boobs were slightly bigger than her partner's.

We didn't have much of a plan; Staci wanted us to work more as a team, trapping one opponent in our corner and wearing her down, then finishing her partner off at leisure. Of course this is easier said than done, and besides this vague notion we were just going to play it by ear. 

I kind of missed the pre-fight trash talking from our last match - our opponents were very taciturn; Staci told me that it's because "bees can't talk" (I didn't bother pointing out that fires and ice can't talk either). Even so we were both wound up, and the fight couldn't come soon enough.

To start they sent Beatrice out first, and we sent out Staci. For a minute as the fighters squared off I was worried that Staci's inexperience was going to tell, but she was really coming into her own as a boxer and used her footwork to stay at a safe distance from her older opponent as they probed each other's defenses. For a few minutes they felt each other out. It became clear that Beatrice was fighting defensively and Staci took the chance to start fighting more aggressively, closing with her opponent and peppering her with quick jabs, trying to draw Beatrice's gloves away. Staci got the quick advantage as she managed to slip several blows past Beatrice's guard, but the wily vet turned the tables, waiting until Staci over-extended herself and then digging a hard right into my girlfriend's tummy. Staci gasped, her right hand instinctively dropping to cover her stomach, and that was all Beatrice needed to rip a combo into her face, ending with a right hook that slammed into Staci's temple.

Staci went down on her side, panting, eyes wide in shock. She managed to shake off the cobwebs and get up by four, but I called for a tag; she was clearly shook up and I wanted to give her a chance to recover. I could tell Staci wanted to keep fighting, but she reluctantly backed into our corner and tagged me in. I pecked her on the cheek and told her we could switch again in a few minutes.

I climbed between the ropes to face my opponent. Beatrice backed up to the center of the ring, giving us plenty of room to fight. We circled each other warily; I was in no hurry, content to let Staci recover, and Beatrice was seemingly content to wait for me to make a move. For a few minutes we danced around each other, throwing only a few light jabs, testing each other's defenses. Apparently this was boring Beatrice's partner as Bethany called for a tag "before I fucking fall asleep!" Beatrice backed away, never taking her eyes off me; I let her tag, hoping Bethany would be less cautious and would make a mistake we could capitalize on.

The younger fighter stepped between the ropes and approached. We circled, but unlike her older partner Bethany was very aggressive, coming at me in a flurry of punches. I was able to cover up and avoid her hits, but her blows were coming too fast to attempt a counter-hit; I waited for her to over-commit to a punch and leave herself open. She started getting frustrated, and just when I was sure she was about to make a mistake, she surprised me with a hit below the belt, her hard glove slamming right into my semi-erect cock.

I'm sure I've mentioned before that you're not allowed to wear cups in these matches, and the pain was indescribable. My legs went weak and I instinctively covered my crotch - a mistake I couldn't help making. I paid for it as as Bethany added to my agony by nailing me with a followup combo, starting with hard body hits and finishing with a devastating left hook to the jaw and a uppercut to the chin that knocked me down on my back.

I felt Bethany pulling my trunks off as I started at the ceiling lights. Carol waited until Bethany had finished stripping me to start counting. She gave me a slow count, and I managed to get up to my feet by six. Carol asked if I wanted to continue; I said yes and a smirking Bethany came at me. There's no way she didn't notice how messed up I was; I got my hands in position, but I was still weak and sluggish from her dirty hit. I think I caught a lucky break here as a boxer with more experience would have come at me with controlled aggression, whereas Bethany practically strolled up to me and threw a wind-up overhand right that I could have seen coming from the next state over. I ducked under it and slammed my right fist into her stomach. Bethany didn't have her abs clenched and I heard her gasp as my glove sank into her stomach. She took a stumbling step back and I tried to capitalize, but she was more lightly stunned than really hurt and quickly had her guard back up, backing me off with some swift counterpunches. We briefly circled each other and I heard Staci calling for a tag - she must have thought I still looked wobbly out there. (I couldn't really disagree.) I trusted my girl enough to swallow my pride and back away from my opponent. Bethany put her hands on her hips and taunted me as I retreated, but I ignored her. I backed into my corner and Staci slapped my shoulder with her gloves.

We switched places, me stepping out onto the apron as Staci climbed between the ropes. Bethany put her gloves up as Staci barreled at her. The blonde fighter was surprised and a moment too slow as Staci landed a hard hook to Bethany's jaw. The force of the hit spun Bethany away from Staci, but my girlfriend stuck on her opponent, slamming a right into Bethany's side, then a left into her stomach. Bethany groaned and tried to back Staci off with some blind punches, getting lucky as one of her wild lefts smacked into Staci's right breast, pancaking it flat.

Staci was stunned, leaving herself open for a recovering Bethany to rock her with a series of shots to the body, finishing with a hard right that smacked into my girlfriend's stomach with a heavy thud. Staci backed away, trying to create enough space between her and her opponent to catch her breath, but Bethany stuck on her, trying to get past her guard with low hits aimed at Staci's stomach and big swinging hooks aimed at her sides. Staci manage to avoid getting hit, but she had to keep backing up to do so. Smartly, she was backing up towards me, and Bethany failed to notice that she was pursuing her prey straight into enemy territory.

As Staci came into our corner she dropped to her knees - from outside the ring I aimed a punch at Bethany, who had gotten close enough for me to connect. Having to reach so far took out some of the power, but the punch still stopped her long enough for Staci, still on her knees, to launch an uppercut into Bethany's pussy.

Bethany took a single reeling backwards step, then sat down heavily. Staci went behind her as Carol came over to count. She only got to 3 before Bethany was back on her feet, turning to face my girlfriend. But the damage was done as we had Bethany trapped; Staci backed her into our corner, bending her over with a hard shot to the stomach. Staci reached over her opponent and tagged me. As Bethany stood up I reached over the ropes, locking her arms up in a full nelson.  We had 60 long seconds to work over our opponent. The first double-team we'd ever scored had seen us beat the shit out of our unlucky target; we'd been practicing on Carol for our second double-team, where we wanted to attack our victim with pleasure. To this end Staci stepped into the corner, pressing her body against a captive Bethany, leaning forward and kissing her. Carol came up and started counting as Staci broke the kiss. Our opponent moaned as my girlfriend started on her nipples, teasing them with her tongue, giving each one long licks as they hardened. Bethany's partner was yelling at her across the ring to hold on, but I could tell from Bethany's squirming that Staci was having a profound effect. I saw Staci's right glove slip between Bethany's legs and start gently rubbing her pussy as my girlfriend kept licking and sucking on Bethany's small tits.

Carol hadn't even gotten to twenty yet and Bethany seemed to be in big trouble. She was warmed up for the finishing move, and Staci quickly pulled Bethany's trunks down to her ankles, then got on her knees in front of her opponent. Bethany made an effort to keep her legs closed, but with her arms locked, Staci had no trouble pushing her thighs apart. Looking over Bethany's shoulder I saw just the top of Staci's head as she started eating Bethany out.

With Carol's slow counting, Staci had quite a while to weaken our opponent, who I could feel losing strength in my grip. Bethany started moaning with every panting breath, her head rolling back on her shoulders (well, as far back as it could in my full nelson). By 40 I was having to hold her up; by 50 she was totally limp. To her credit she held on to 60 without cumming; Carol ordered me to release her and I gave Bethany a shove. She tried to take a stumbling step, but her trunks were still around her ankles, and for good measure she tripped over Staci, who was still on her knees in front of her. Bethany ended up falling to the mat on her face as I stepped between the ropes. I quickly pulled her trunks all the way off, handing them to my girlfriend for safekeeping.

To my amazement Bethany started slowly getting up. She managed to answer the bell, albeit looking very shaky. I made sure to get between her and her corner as Carol asked if she wanted to continue. Bethany said yes and put her guard up.

I toyed with the idea of backing her into our corner for another double-team, but it seemed like overkill as Bethany lumbered at me throwing a slow, clumsy left jab. I went under it and slammed a right hook into her stomach. She took a step back, bending over at the waist and gagging. I put my glove on the back of her head and pushed her down to the mat on her chest. I rolled her over onto her back, laying on top of her, pushing her legs apart with my own. Carol came over to see what I was doing, but didn't count as I got ready to finish Bethany, lining my cock up with her pussy.

This was tougher than I had anticipated; usually I would use my hand to guide my initial thrust, but there was no way to do this with my gloves on. Carol must have spotted the problem as she got on her knees behind me and I felt her hand wrap around my dick. (Perhaps the advantage of knowing the ref personally - or maybe she'd do this for any guy to move the match along; I guess in the end it doesn't really matter.) I pushed forward slowly, Bethany moaning as my tip pressed into her. Carol took her hand away and I bottomed out in Bethany's hot pussy.

No matter how close Staci had gotten her, I didn't want to take a chance here; I knew I'd never hear the end of it if I came first and blew our chances. I went with very short, quick strokes, making a mental note to send Carol flowers for making me do orgasm training. Bethany didn't make it easy on me - every thrust drew a short, high moan, getting closer together as I fucked her until it was one continuous panting breath. She went over the edge, her pussy wildly spasming as she came, her glove-covered hands wrapped around my back trying to pull me closer. I barely held on, fucking her through her climax, until her arms fell off me and she went totally limp.

I climbed off a completely spent Bethany. Carol counted the knockout, and I posed, soaking up Staci's cheers as Carol dragged Bethany out of the ring.

Beatrice started climbing through the ropes before Carol had even made it halfway. I was still the legal man, but Staci was eager to get in there, so I made the tag and took my place outside the ropes. I hoped that Beatrice would be blinded by rage and make a mistake Staci could capitalize on, but she quickly dashed my hopes with a careful, measured attack, probing Staci's defenses for weaknesses.

They settled into a long-distance duel. Staci was slightly shorter than Beatrice, so there wasn't much of a reach difference; instead, Staci's footwork and youth were up against Beatrice's years of experience. Staci got the early advantage, darting in and throwing flurries of punches and then backing away from Beatrice's counter-blows. This worked for a little while, but Beatrice was only getting hit with the occasional punch, swiftly blocking most of them, and I could see Staci starting to flush with effort. I called for a tag and she half turned to face me. Taking her eyes off her opponent was a mistake as Beatrice came around to her side and slammed a left hook into Staci's unprepared stomach. I saw Staci's eyes go wide and she turned back to Beatrice just in time to eat a right to the face that knocked her down.

Staci was more surprised and winded than truly hurt, and was back on her feet by two. She went for the tag, backing away from her opponent and into our corner. I tagged in and got between the ropes to face Beatrice. With her partner eliminated, we had our opponent isolated and my goal was just to wear her down and then tag out. As I put my gloves up and squared off with her I noticed her eyes flicking down to my hard cock. Sure enough she came in with a quick left jab at my crotch. I only realized too late this was a trap as my hands went down to cover my boys and her right hand flew at my face. Time slowed down as I saw her black glove coming at me.

She'd put a lot of power in this hit and it knocked me down on my back. I let Carol count for a few beats before I started getting up. I made it to my feet by four and waved away Carol asking me if I wanted to continue.

We squared off again and I decided to strike first this time, coming in with a low attack aimed at her stomach and crotch. Beatrice backed up, pushing all of my punches away. I tried to switch targets up to her head but I was too slow and ate a left hook to the jaw. I gasped and her followup right slammed into my stomach. I gasped and she capitalized with a quick combo of jabs to my head, finishing with a short uppercut that had me reeling. I covered up but she went under my guard, getting on my right side and sliding her glove all the way down my cock. She started gloving me, her black boxing glove a blur as she moved it up and down my rod.
"Hey!" Staci helpfully screamed. "Do something!"

What a wonderful idea. I pulled my opponent into a headlock - amazingly, this didn't even slow her down as she kept gloving me furiously. Only when I started punching the top of her head with my free hand did she escape. I let her go, happy to have her glove off my cock - she'd gotten me distressingly close.

We squared off again and I played up my tiredness, huffing and puffing, leaving my gloves just a tad low as I hunched over. Beatrice must've smelled blood and came in looking to lay me out, throwing quick, short punches, trying to open a hole in my defenses for a knockout blow. I let her tag me with a few jabs, backing up and grunting with each hit, until she thought she saw the fatal gap in my defenses.

If the massive right haymaker she launched had hit home, I'm sure I would have been knocked out. But I weaved away from it, leaving Beatrice stumbling forward in surprise, unable to stop her forward momentum. She ended up pressing her body against mine, her sweaty tits pressing into my chest. She tried to clinch, but I pushed her away. Her midsection was open and I hit her with a quick right to the stomach, following it up with a body combo. Beatrice tried to cover up, but I went around her guard, smacking lefts and right into her ribs and the sides of her stomach. When she brought her guard down I popped her in the face, her head snapping back with a grunt. I got my body weight into a left hook to the stomach that knocked her down on her butt, gasping. She got back up by three and I closed with her, torn between wanting to finish her and looking out for dirty tricks. I guess I wasn't looking close enough as Beatrice went around my opening left and came in through my guard, leaning in and kissing me. I stopped dead as her tongue pressed into my mouth and she clinched me.

Carol came over to break it up, but not before my opponent had wrestled my tongue into submission, and my head was buzzing as Carol separated us. Staci's voice cut through the fog in my head as she screamed "That's it! Tag me in!" I looked at her in a daze. "Tag me in, Scott! Fucking now!"

Well, I'd learned to trust Staci as a partner by now and I did as she said, backing away from Beatrice and tagging with my steaming girlfriend. Staci stepped between the ropes and attacked. Beatrice was getting worn down, losing a little speed - as it turned out just enough to make her easy prey for my girlfriend, who started off with a left hook that sent Beatrice's right breast flying in a shower of sweat. Beatrice tried to cover up, but Staci kept going after any unguarded spot - if Beatrice lifted her hands to cover her face and chest Staci pounded her stomach (with a few nasty low blows mixed in), and if Beatrice dropped her hands to protect this she started eating hard hits to the head and bare chest. Beatrice backed up, but she couldn't escape Staci, and soon the older fighter's hands were drooping my girlfriend landed punch after un-answered punch. Beatrice's face started swelling and her stomach began to bruise as she soaked up punishment, but refused to go down, even shaking off Carol asking if she wanted to continue.

Finally Staci backed a beaten Beatrice into a neutral corner. She bent Beatrice over with a uppercut to the stomach, then put her left glove on the back of Beatrice's head and started slamming punches into her face. Beatrice took five hits before falling down to her hands and knees. Carol came over to count, but Staci pushed her away and set Beatrice up for the finish. She lifted her opponent up, draping Beatrice over the top rope, facing out of the ring. Staci started laying punches into the back of her head. Beatrice sagged, the ropes holding her up, as Staci kept hitting her. After a dozen blows Carol told Staci to get her opponent off the ropes. Staci took a step back, leaving Beatrice to slowly fall, catching the bottom rope with one arm to barely stay kneeling.

"You're almost done," Staci taunted her as she approached. "Stay down and we'll go easy on you." Staci drew her arm back for a knockout punch; Beatrice looked up and tried to get her right glove up to block, but she was too slow, and Staci's fist slammed into her face. Beatrice was knocked off the ropes, going down on her back spread-eagled and limp. Carol came over to count, and to my amazement Beatrice started trying to get up; Staci wanted the match to continue and pushed Carol away whenever she started trying to count, and pulled Beatrice's trunks off to buy more time (as Carol never counted while someone was getting stripped). With all this Beatrice made it to one knee by eight, and Carol counted even slower than usual, allowing Beatrice to just beat the count, although she could barely stand. Carol waved the fighters together and a laughing Staci easily pushed Beatrice back into one of the empty corners, effortlessly dodging Beatrice's clumsy flailing. Staci hit Beatrice hard in the stomach to make her a little easier to work with, then hung her off the ropes, draping her beaten opponent's arms over the top rope, resting her feet on the bottom and her knees on the second rope. Beatrice's head sagged as she was left totally defenseless. Staci started laying punches into her stomach, Beatrice groaning with each hit. Staci only backed off after about ten punches when a gagging Beatrice coughed up a gob of spit. I called for Staci to finish the match and she turned to me just long enough to blow me a kiss, then turned back to her opponent for the coup de grace.

Staci got on her knees, burying her face in Beatrice's crotch. All the fight had gone out of the older woman, and she just rolled her head back, panting, as Staci ate her out. Carol made sure to get a good look as Beatrice lost the match, unable to even lift her arm as her younger opponent made her body betray her. Staci had spent some time practicing eating pussy on Carol, and it was paying off now as Staci broke Beatrice using her mouth. The beaten older woman managed to last a few minutes, but her defeat was inevitable; under my girlfriend's assault she started ramping up for her climax, her panting moans turning into a huge cry of pleasure as Staci pushed her over the edge.

Beatrice hung completely limp after her orgasm. Staci stood up and hooked her right glove around the back of Beatrice's head and pulled. The older woman came free from the ropes, landing right on her face with a unladylike splat of sweaty skin hitting canvas. Staci backed off as Carol came over to count the academic knockout. I came into the ring, running over to Staci and hugging her, pleasantly surprised as she stuck her tongue down my throat, tasting Beatrice's juices on her tongue and lips.

We were both pretty worked up and eager to get off on our opponents. Staci had managed to hold on to her trunks the whole fight, and now quickly shed them before walking over to Beatrice. She nudged the beaten woman over with her foot, then sat down on her face.

I turned to find Bethany back in the ring, ready to face the music. I had her lay down in the center of the mat and straddled her head, dragging my balls over her face, aiming my prick

at her mouth. I pushed into her mouth in one swift motion. The wet warmness felt wonderful as I gave her short thrusts, trying not to gag her. Bethany reached up and held on my hips with her gloves as my rod slid in and out of her lips.

As great as this felt, for the finish I wanted to go back to fucking her. I pulled out, sliding down her body until my slick rod was pressing against the wetness between her legs - either she had a bit of a sub side or she'd enjoyed her partner being finished as much as I had. I made ready to shuck my gloves to guide myself in, but before I got them off Carol showed up to lend a hand again, almost ruining my plan by giving my cock a few quick pumps before helping me into Bethany.

This time I didn't have to worry about not cumming and gave Bethany the longest, hardest strokes I could. She gasped with each thrust, wrapping her arms around me and pulling me down towards her as I fucked her. Between her mouth and Carol's hand I was already pretty wound up, but I lasted until Bethany started cumming under me - her cry of pleasure and then her squeezing inner walls pushed me over the edge. I spent my load deep in her pussy, my strokes getting shorter and weaker as I came until I lay still on top of her, both of us sweaty and panting.

I pulled out and Carol helped me up. We snapped some photos - the usual victory poses, plus a great one of Bethany and Beatrice kissing with my cock inbetween their lips - and went home to recover. It takes less time to heal up from a victory, but it was a few weeks before our next fight. When it came, it was a surprise I'd never thought to expect.