A hard knockout deserves a hard celebration

Aunt Judy smiled. She had been right. One punch really was all it took from her. She’d beaten him twice over now. And once again, he was fast asleep.

She strutted over to her pile of folded clothes to retrieve her phone, taking off one glove for it. She rolled Billy onto his back with a foot. It was time for more victory selfies.

She took a few from a high angle, foot on his dumb fucking face as she looked proudly up into the camera and flexed with her other arm. She made sure to get her knockout glove into frame. The down-cleavage view of her busty bra was better than any work of art.

Then she got some shots more focused on Billy. She planted a bare foot over his crotch, scrunching her toes to feel his dickprint through the underwear fabric, and smirking as she lined up the frame to get most of his body in. At the bottom of the image was her smooth, long, bare leg, foot planted over his manhood, right in the centre of the shot and framed by his limp spread legs. Above that, his strong, young, muscular torso. Those mighty pecs and washboard abs worth falling in love over. Her nephew’s strong arms lay limply at his sides, boxing gloves still on his hands. Not that they had helped him much. Then, at the top of the frame, his drooling, sleeping, stupid face. He really hadn’t expected to get knocked out today. His hair was tousled and his eyes were vacant. His mouth hung slightly open. She’d punched him straight into la la land, and he wasn’t coming back any time soon.

Judy felt something stirring in her motherly bosom as she admired her handiwork. What she had done to her big strong nephew. How she’d just beaten him in a fight. It might have been all the red wine she’d gotten drunk off of, but god, it felt like the greatest achievement of her life to do this to him again.

She took a few more celebration selfies. Gazing sultrily into the camera while planting a kiss on his passed-out cheek, a closeup of his dumb face with the knuckles of her glove held against his slack jaw, and so on. Her drunken body wanted to remember this feeling, this victory, forever.

She had no idea that she wasn’t alone in admiring her work, as she happily snapped photos of Billy’s limp form. His cousins, Miranda and Rachel, had seen almost the whole thing from Rachel’s bedroom window on the second story. And now, they had their jaws open even wider than Billy’s in pure shock. They had just seen their busty mother stripped down to her underwear, boxing and KOing their cousin. Neither of them knew enough about boxing to tell the difference in technique or skill between the two fighters, but there was one thing even they both knew for sure.

“Mom… Knocked out Billy?” Miranda asked timidly, her voice quivering. It sounded like she wasn’t sure if the mere idea could get her in trouble. The idea of her soft, caring mother cleaning house on the family boxing prodigy.

“There’s no way…” Rachel covered her mouth with her hands. “He’s got to be faking, right? He can’t be knocked out…”

He had always seemed so strong to Rachel. Unbreakable. She’d never seen him lose. And now, for some reason, he and her mom and gotten into their underwear and boxed in the garden. And he had lost. Viciously. She had been confused when she saw them fighting, she had gasped when she watched him drop, she couldn’t believe it when he had stayed down, and now… It was getting even harder to believe.

As the two stared down at their backyard from the window, their loving mother set her phone to the side and began playing with him. Running her hands over his chest, feeling the sturdy muscles. Picking up one of his strong arms, and letting it drop into the grass limply. His muscular body was all hers.

Miranda was in awe of the sight. In awe of her mother. She was surprised to feel a bit of excitement fill her usually-reserved body at the concept of Billy getting put to sleep by Judy.

“I… I don’t think he’s faking, sis. I think… Mom just punched Billy out. He’s ****. She finished him.”

“No, no… He… Lost? To our mom?”

Rachel couldn’t believe what she’d seen. Mom hit Billy in the chin, and he went down. He stayed down. She beat him. Rachel just saw him fucking lose a boxing match. By knockout, of all things. To her mother. Rachel stared down at Billy’s limp body from the window.

Shit. It was real. Mom actually just knocked Billy the fuck out. How was that even possible?

God, he was really lights-out asleep from that punch. She’d never even seen him lose an exchange to anyone. Any other boxer. Now she saw him get totally annihilated by her own sweet, unathletic, untrained mother. Her mom powered through his chin with one shot. And he was done. Facedown in the backyard and done. It just wasn’t possible.

Aunt Judy began planting delicate, loving kisses all over Billy’s out-cold chin, cheek, neck, and forehead. Her tender lips pressed softly against his defeated face, almost like they were each their own little apology for putting him to sleep. Putting him into a deep, deep sleep.

“How is this even possible?” Rachel asked, sounding almost hurt by the revelation that her cousin wasn’t invincible. Wasn’t even close. “Mom doesn’t even know how to fight.”

“Well…” Miranda’s timid voice sounded quietly from her dry mouth as she watched her mother’s full figure slow stand upright and stare down at the **** boy she’d just knocked out. Judy shook her head in mock disappointment. “She knows enough to KO Billy.”

Hearing those words were like a punch to the gut for Rachel. Her favorite cousin just got KO’d in front of her.

With that, Judy turned on her heel and marched back over to her neat pile of clothing. Bending sultrily at the hips, sticking out her bulky round ass and panties, she picked up the clothes and began to get dressed again. Billy was out cold, lying in the grass in his boxer shorts and gloves, and she was done with him.

Once dressed, Aunt Judy went back into her house without so much as a look over her shoulder at the sleeping boy, and put away her special gloves in their hiding place once again.

On her way back, marching happily through the house, she caught Heather coming out of the kitchen after washing the dishes from supper.

“Oh, there you are. Where’s Billy?” Heather asked, looking around.

“Oh, he’s helping me pull some weeds in the garden. He might be a while. He was pretty deep into the dirt.” Aunt Judy said. “Why don’t we get the girls and we can all watch a movie while we eat dessert? Is Miranda back there too?”

“No, Rachel called her upstairs for something, so I let her go and just did the dishes myself.” Heather explained.

The two gorgeous milfs went upstairs to fetch the girls. Heather had no idea that her sister had just cleaned house on her eldest son, let alone for the second time. Her son had been knocked out and starched right under her nose, and she was none the wiser. Hell, for all she knew, his only ever knockouts came from his very own mother. She had no idea that her sister had matched her record of Billy beatdowns. Or that, somehow, the drunken goddess had dispatched her eldest son even more impressively than even Heather had. In full view of his beloved cousins. Now the whole family knew he was a knockout loser.