Boxing my Mother-in-law

“Relax,” my wife massaged my shoulders as I stared across the half-size boxing ring at my mother in law. “Remember, you’re both here to improve your relationship. Get your issues worked out. Right?”

“Uh huh,” I nodded, my eyes meeting my MIL’s. Laura tilted her head slightly as she stared back at me, the hint of a smile on her face. This had all been her idea; we hadn’t gotten along from the start (it didn’t help that she kept calling me “Jake from State Farm” - that got old real fast). We’d tried counseling, and we’d tried my wife mediating a heart to heart discussion, and when nothing had helped, Laura had suggested we work all of our issues out in one night in a boxing match. I was hesitant until my wife turned her big blue puppy dog eyes on me and talked me into it; and now here I was, getting ready to fight my mother in law. I’d had time for a single boxing class, and barely knew how to hold a guard or the difference between a jab, hook, straight, and uppercut, but I wasn’t too worried; between my wife being the ref (complete with striped shirt and black booty shorts) and my opponent being a slim, middle-aged woman, I figured I didn’t have a lot to worry about.

If Laura was nervous she didn’t show it as she gazed back at me. She was wearing a light sky-blue sports bra, silk boxing trunks and gloves, edged in white. She’s in her mid 40’s, attempting to hold off middle age with some success - I’ll admit she still looked pretty good. She was just starting to develop laugh lines on her face, but otherwise was quite pretty with delicate features - the same bright blue eyes as my wife, high cheeks, a small upturned nose, and pouty lips. She had on what I hoped was waterproof makeup (otherwise it’d be sweated off in short order), dark eyeshadow, a touch of rogue and deep red lipstick. Her bottle-blonde hair was in a stylish, short, shaggy asymmetrical cut, longer on the right then the left (she loved tossing her hair, especially after making a bitchy remark). Bodywise we’re both tall and thin, although I had two inches on her (5’9” to 5’11”) and probably weighed a bit more; she had still-perky B-cups and almost no butt. She was at the gym a lot and was in good shape, but I figured my 20 year youth advantage would make up for me being in, I guess, average shape.

My wife, Amanda, looks a lot like her mom, except obviously younger and a little heavier; her natural dark brown hair was in a high ponytail. She’d gotten into the ring and it looked like it was time to start. She yelled “Ding!” and I got off my stool to close with my mother in law. Following what I’d been shown in my quick lesson I started throwing out jabs, but honestly they were rather lame; I found it went against my instincts to be hitting a woman, even in a boxing match.

Laura showed no hesitation as she smacked away my glove and came in on me; before I could get my hands back into a guard she threw her right fist through the hole in my defenses into my stomach. I saw this coming too late to brace and gasped as her glove sailed into my midsection. I froze, in shock at how much this hurt, and she slammed a followup left hook into my jaw, turning my head with the impact; I stumbled backwards, my guard in shambles, and she followed with a low, lunging left that hit me square in the crotch. I went down to my knees, gasping, gloves crossed over my goods; my wife stopped her mom from coming in and nailing me in the face with another punch, which I was very thankful for. Amanda pushed her mom back and I managed to get to my feet, shakily. My wife gave me a standing eight count, allowing me a chance to catch my breath and get my gloves back up: “You okay to keep going, babe? That looked like it hurt!”
“Where did she learn to box?”
“What?”
“You didn’t tell me she knew how to fight!”
“I didn’t know!”

Laura came over to smack her gloves together and wave me towards her, and my wife backed off to let us continue boxing. I’ll admit I was a little scared as my mother in law came at me a second time. She definitely had be beat in the skill department; I decided I’d have to try and use my reach, upper body strength, and endurance to counteract what I’m guessing must have been her years of training. I tried to keep her at long range with hooks, but she blocked the first one, then went under the second and closed, snapping quick, crisp jabs at me. She was much faster than the guy I’d worked with at the gym, and I only managed to take two of her hits on my forearms before she got under my guard, digging punches into my stomach; I at least had time to brace myself and put as much force as I could into a counter-punch aimed squarely at my mother in law’s face.

It never landed as she simply weaved to the side and came in on me. I’d left myself wide open when I missed with my haymaker and she dropped me with a massive right hook that slammed into my temple. I went down hard on my back, staring up at the ring lights as I heard my wife and mother in law arguing. I was glad for the break; my head was swimming.
“What the fuck, Mom!” Amanda shrieked. “Look what you did to him!”
“Please, sweetie. It’s a boxing match. We’re working our aggression out. Besides,” she placed her delicate foot squarely on my crotch, “he likes it.” To my intense embarrassment, I was in fact sporting a rock hard erection that my mother in law was now rubbing through my trunks with her instep. That was a little too much for Amanda, who angrily shoved her mother away from me. She asked if I wanted to keep going and I gasped a yes, slowly getting to my feet.
“Jake,” she leaned in so close her nose was almost touching mine, “Are you sure you want to keep going? She’s kicking your ass pretty good.”

I just nodded and with a sigh she gave me a standing eight count. One benefit of being married to the ref is she counted real slow; by the time she was done I was able to clear my head a little bit. Amanda waved us together and I closed with Laura again, determined this time to put up a better fight. Attempting to replicate my mother in law’s tactics I started ripping off jabs, looking for a hole in her guard. She advanced slowly, both arms shielding her tummy and head; I couldn’t make a dent there, but I scored a solid hit with a right hook around her arms into her ribs. She grunted and I repeated the punch with my other hand, landing a left hook to her side that broke her guard; with a snarl she aimed a fast left straight at my face, I think trying to back me off. I wove around it and came back with a right aimed at her head that she took on her gloves. I sent several more straights at my opponent, trying to get through her guard, but from her belly button to the top of her skull she blocked every punch. I think she was waiting for me to tire myself out, and didn’t make any move to hit back at me; realizing this wasn’t working I backed off, breaking contact and taking a second to think.

Hooking my punches around her arms had worked before and as we closed up I went back to this, immediately rewarded with the sweet sound of my opponent grunting as my right glove slammed into her sides. Her arms didn’t move and I gave her a left hook, my fist smacking into her ribs. As before, two punches were enough to make her change tactics; she threw a lightning left jab at my head. I tried to weave away from it, only partially successfully; her glove hit me in the jaw, but it was a glancing blow that merely stung instead of doing serious damage. I drew my arm back for a punch at her stomach, but before I could land it she darted forward and clinched me, wrapping her arms around my torso.
“All right, break it up!” my wife hollered. Laura pressed her sweaty body against mine, and Amanda had to grab her arms and pry them off me, backing us away from each other by several steps; she got into a furious whispering match with her mom I couldn’t quite overhear, but there was no mistaking the worried frown on my wife’s face as she waved me and her mother back together.

So far all of my success had come from hooking punches around Laura’s guard, and I went back to this as we closed, but she was on to me now, dodging away from the first hook I threw, coming back with her own left straight. Her glove smacked into my stomach and I dropped my hands, a natural reaction but a rookie mistake. She flashed a jab into my face with her right glove, then a followup heavier left. I took a half-step back and sat down heavily, blinking. My wife started counting slowly, giving me another long standing eight to clear my head. She waved us together and Laura seemed to be looking for more hooks; I didn’t want to fall into that trap, but I didn’t know what else to do. I tried to throw a hook she’d have to get out of position to block or duck, then get her with a quick jab, but either she read my moves or I was too slow as she ducked the hook, weaved back from the jab, and gave me a nasty backhand with her right glove, smacking it into the side of my face. I turned and went down on my chest; before I knew what was happening Laura was laying on top of me, slamming her hips into my butt in a show of dominance.
“Jesus, Mom!” Amanda screamed. “Get off him, or I can’t count!”
“Aw, sweetie, I’m just getting started with your man. We haven’t worked our issues out yet,” Laura cackled. “Isn’t that right, Jake?” She climbed off me and rolled me over with her foot, staring down at me. “Right, Jake? You haven’t had enough already, have you?”

Not bothering to respond, I got up and put my gloves up in a guard. With a sigh my wife waved us together again; this time before I could even get off a punch Laura darted forward, landing a low blow on me. Her glove hit my hard cock with enough force to lay me out; instead of counting, my wife started screaming at my opponent: “You hit him in the dick! That’s not allowed! What the fuck, Mom! I’m gonna stop the match if you keep doing this shit!”
“Honey, he’s fine. Look, he’s still hard!” My mother in law was, embarrassingly, correct; even after her hit below the belt I was still at full extension, clearly visible through my trunks.
“Go to your corner!” Amanda barked. Laura rolled her eyes, but did as her daughter said and went to her corner, leaning back against the ringpost with her arms crossed under her breasts. I’d managed to get up, and my wife lead me to my own corner; like my opponent I lay back against the ringpost, but where she was cool and collected I was flushed and panting.
“Jake,” Amanda came in real close to me, “Do you want to give up? You got her good a few times, but she’s really kicking your ass now. I won’t think any less-”
“I want to keep going,” I gasped.
“Why?!”
“I want to settle this now.”
“Fine. And it has nothing to do with this?” she squeezed my bulge through my trunks. “Don’t tell me you’re enjoying this?!”
“It’s just nerves!”
“Yeah?” She reached into my shorts. "Well, I'm gonna help you get over your nerves, then." She started jerking me off quickly. My trunks stopped her from giving me long strokes, but the speed of her short ones was plenty combined with how aroused I already was.
"Amanda, sweetie, what's going on over there?" Laura called across the ring (as if she couldn’t tell).
"Nothing, mom!" my wife yelled over her shoulder. "Just checking on him!"


I could see Laura start shadowboxing in her corner; then I squeezed my eyes shut, leaning back with a groan as Amanda finished me off, stroking me through a powerful climax. I tried to muffle my moan of pleasure as I shot into my trunks. Amanda withdrew her hand, now covered in sticky cum; luckily there was a towel along with a water bottle in the corner, and she used it to clean her hand as I panted. If Laura didn’t know what her daughter was doing before, I don’t know how she could have missed this, which probably explains the smirking grin she was sporting as we closed.

Now I’m sure my wife meant well, but after cumming hard to her handjob I wanted to take a little nap, and my reflexes were slow as Laura came in, contemptuously smacking my opening right hook away, her left glove flying at my crotch. With speed born of pure panic I managed to jump backwards, dodging her hit below the belt, but I was left hopelessly out of position and Laura’s followup long overhand right (which for all I knew was the real hit she wanted to set up with her first swing) slammed into my left temple like a ton of bricks.

I went down on my right side, rolling onto my back with a groan, dazed. Amanda started counting me out; I managed to shake the cobwebs off and get up by six, but even after my wife gave me yet another long standing eight count I was still feeling slow and woozy. Laura came in smelling blood, easily flicking away my left hook. She started working my body, smashing her gloves into my midsection with straight punches, switching to hooks when I dropped my guard to stop her; no matter where I put my arms or hands she seemed to be able to penetrate my defenses at will. I found myself backing up, the only way to avoid taking her repeated punches to back away from them. This worked for a little bit, but in the half-size ring I quickly ran out of space, and when my back touched the ropes I knew I was in deep shit. I aimed a left straight at Laura’s jaw, trying to back her off, but she ducked it, darting forward and slamming her elbow into my stomach. I went down on my knees, my right glove over the spot she’d hit; luckily for me my wife came in to back her mom away, counting like I was knocked down. I sucked in as many deep breaths as I could before getting up. I managed to at least get my hands into a strong guard before Laura attacked, my mother in law targeting my body again, and I managed to take a few of her hits on my gloves. Unfortunately this was only delaying the inevitable - her attack was so quick I didn’t have any chance to counterpunch, and when I blocked enough hits she switched targets, my gloves too slow to get up in time to stop the left hook she slammed into my face. I turned with the force of her punch, ending up with my back to her; she gave me a shove into the ropes. I draped my arms over the top rope to stay standing and felt Laura grabbing my hips with her gloves, slamming her crotch into my butt again.
“Get him off the ropes!” Amanda ordered - I frankly didn’t mind that much; I’d take getting a breather while getting humiliated over getting my face punched in any day. Amanda had to force her mom off me; I managed to turn back around to face her, leaning my arms back over the ropes to stay standing. They were face to face, arguing: “Would you please, please just be finished now?” Amanda pleaded.
“Take my top off, honey.”
“What?!”
“I can’t unhook it with these gloves on-”
“Mom, please! This is weird enough as it is! Whatever point you wanted to make, I think we got it. Would you please just knock my husband out now?”

Laura had her gloves on her hips, frowning at her daughter; she put on her Mom Voice and commanded: “Unhook my top. Now!” Amanda didn’t move, just shaking her head as I hung off the ropes panting. “You can go wait in the car if you don’t want to see this, but if you don’t unhook it for me, sweetie, I’m going to really fuck your man up.”
“Okay,” Amanda grumbled. She went behind her mom and undid the clasps on the sports bra; Laura sighed in contentment as her top fell off, revealing her sweaty tits, her small, pink nipples rock-hard. “Thank you, honey. Now don’t worry, it’ll all be over soon.” Laura caught me staring at her tits and winked. “Isn’t that right, Jake?”

With a grunt I pushed myself off the ropes. To my intense relief, Amanda made us go to the center of the ring to restart; my wife had noticed me pitching a tent in my trunks again, and treated me to a scowl before waving us together with an angry sigh. We closed and Laura was very aggressive, charging me with a mix of quick jabs trying to pull my guard away, then hard hooks and straights when she thought she saw a hole in my defenses. She got me with a few stiff hits, but I guess I was more resilient than she gave me credit for, and her toplessness left me a new avenue of attack; absorbing a painful left to my stomach, I launched a right hook that smacked into her bare left breast, sending it flying sideways in a shower of sweat. Laura yelped and covered her chest, leaving everywhere else exposed; I slammed a left into her tummy, making her gasp and bend slightly forward, and I nailed her with a right uppercut, my glove coming up under her chin, snapping her head back. Laura took a single step back, her arms flailing, and I shoved her. She fell over, slamming onto the mat back-first, as I finally scored my first knockdown. Amanda started counting her mom out extremely quickly, obviously hoping to end the match right here, but Laura was back on her feet by seven, snarling at my wife when she asked if she wanted to continue, roughly shoving her out of the way and charging at me. Not quite ready - I’d been tremendously enjoying the sight of my mother in law flat on her back - I barely got my gloves up in time to block the vicious right she aimed at my face, trying to take my head off. She followed up with a left below the belt, which I dodged back from. I threw the quickest counterpunch I could, a flicking little left jab that hit her in the face. I hoped this would make her even madder and prompt even bigger, easier to see punches, and I wasn’t disappointed as she started a right haymaker somewhere in the next state over before launching it at me. I went under it and came up peppering her tits with jabs, loving the groans and gasps she let out as I smacked her tits around. She crossed her arms over her chest again, and like before left herself wide open everywhere else; I dug a hard right into her stomach, and she gagged but didn’t move; a second one had her coughing up spit onto the mat, and a third dropped her to her knees, still covering her chest. I unleashed my best right hook into the side of her head, knocking her down for the second time in under a minute as she fell heavily on her right side. Amanda again started counting her out super quick, and this time it was all my mother in law could do to stumble to her feet in the two and a half seconds it took my wife to count to nine.

It occurred to me that whatever training Laura had been doing all these years must not have included bare-breasted boxing where her opponent could target her tits; without her muscle memory and ring instincts, my slight reach and considerable strength and endurance advantages were giving me the upper hand. Clinging on to this thin thread of hope I closed with my mother in law again. She seemed shaken, trying to keep me at range with long hooks; this presented a problem as I didn’t have the skill to get past these, barely able to take them on my gloves or forearms. Trying not to panic - I only had this one technique to try - I decided to take the hit in order to get close enough to deploy my own attack against her chest, but she somehow pasted me with a hard right to the jaw and managed to back out of my counterpunch range at the same time. I tried again, and it didn’t work any better the second time, except that her hard hits to my head were making me dizzy; Laura knew how to get her body weight into these punches, and sensing weakness she darted forward and got me with a third that had me reeling. She continued her attack with a combo, two quick jabs into my belly, my hands dropping and leaving me open for the follow left hook to the jaw, then a right straight; my gloves coming back up, she nailed me with a short left uppercut to my stomach that had me gagging, setting me up for the coupe de grace, a knockout right that smashed into my face with incredible force.

Somehow managing to avoid flopping to the mat, I was able to control a fall to my knees, but I was helpless as Laura stepped forward, fitting my face between her sweat-slick tits, locking her arms behind my head and trapping me in a breast smother. I could hear my wife yelling something at her mom, and Laura yelling back “You let him hit my boobs! Let me do this!” To my wife’s credit she didn’t, but it took her some time to firmly grip her mom’s arms and pull them away to free me; by the time she did so I was panting and half-conscious. Amanda helped me to my feet but didn’t give me a count, and my gloves were only halfway back up when Laura attacked, working my body like a heavy bag; no matter where I put my gloves she got around my guard, smacking hard straights or hooks into my stomach and ribs. After one particularly nasty right gutbuster I had to lean forward to stay standing, resting my head on Laura’s shoulders; she kept hitting me, hammering blows into my sides.

By the time she had enough and pushed me off, I couldn’t stand, and fell straight back, hitting the mat with a thud. The only part of me still standing was my fully erect cock, pointing straight up at the ring lights. Before Amanda could start counting, Laura held her gloves over her head in victory: “It’s over, sweetie - your husband is finished!” She planted her bare, sweaty foot directly over my nose and mouth. “Isn’t that right, Jake?”
“Let me count him out, Mom,” my wife muttered, her face flushed.
“Not just yet, hon. I still have a little more steam to blow off.” With that Laura went around to my head, hooking her gloves under my armpits and dragging me over to one of the corners, laying me down with the back of my head resting on the bottom turnbuckle. She squatted over me, laughing as she rubbed her bare tits all over my nose and mouth, occasionally smacking one or the other into my face. I could half-see my steaming wife standing a few feet away in the middle of the ring, arms crossed angrily under her chest, but she must have decided to let the finish play out as she didn’t move to stop her mom from humiliating me. It got even worse for me as Laura stood, shimmying out of her trunks, turning her back to me. Too late I saw what was coming as she squatted and pushed her ass against my face. I felt her lean forward and slide my trunks off, my hard cock waving in the breeze for a second before she started working it with her gloves, catching my rod between them and moving them up and down. All I could do was lay there and try not to pass out as she smothered me with her ass and stroked me with her gloves. With how turned on I’d gotten during the match I didn’t last long; just a minute or two later I was groaning into her butt as she made me cum, her gloves coaxing spurt after spurt out of me, my mother in law pressing her hips back and forcing my face even deeper between her sweaty buttcheeks. After she’d worked me dry she mercifully climbed off me, letting me take a few deep breaths, but my reprieve was short-lived as she spun to face me and then planted her pussy on my face. She gave me a rough facesit, working her wet pussy over my nose and mouth; to my intense embarrassment I started getting hard again as Laura got herself off on me, but at least she seemed too into her work to notice. All I could do was hold on until she finished, and when she did I almost passed out, her hips bucking into my face as she wailed in pleasure.

Finally she got off me; I had barely taken a breath before Amanda was there, screaming “You done?” at her mother. Without waiting for an answer my wife grabbed my ankles, dragging me out of the corner, and subjected me to the quickest ten count I’d ever heard. Laura came over to get her arm held up in victory, but her daughter just fixed her with one of the meanest stares I’ve ever seen: “I’m taking my husband home now. You ever - “ she jabbed her finger at Laura - “pull this shit again, and I’m going to be blowing off some steam with you.” Possessing strength I didn’t know she had, my wife picked me up and carried me like a baby back to the locker room; barely able to move, she showered me and helped me get dressed and into the car. It took me a few days to physically get over my mother in law beating my ass in the boxing match; mentally the effects have lasted much longer, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since.