Billy's temptation

"Just give me a moment...", Billy spoke after a long pause, almost authoritatively.

Lucy gave a slight nod. She understood the turmoil Billy was going through. Of course, he needed time, and she was more than happy to support him.

"If you want we can continue...this...tomorrow...or whenever you feel like...", Lucy asked, her tone more than a whisper.

"Thanks, coach...but I would appreciate it if you'll just wait...for a minute or so...need a moment to clear my head". Billy smiled weakly.

"Of course Billy...anything for you". Lucy raised her hand to pat him, only for him to ignore her gesture. He walked away, leaving her hand in the air.

She pursed her lips, exasperated by the whole situation, and sat down on the nearest bench, waiting for Billy to return.

***

Billy plodded to one of the secluded washrooms down the main hall. He reached there and halted just at its entrance, staring blankly at the cracked paint of the toilet door.

He had to take some action.

Billy pushed open the door. His face scrunched as its hinges creaked. After entering in, he darted his eyes through the row of mirrors, trying to pick the one least smudged with dirt.

He settled for the one at the back and trudged towards it. The sink beneath it was stained muddy red, and the drain was comparable to a black void.

Billy bent down, bringing his face to level with the mirror in front. He turned the handle of the rusty faucet, almost expecting it to be dry.

A small trickle of water, however, poured out of the snout.

He cupped his palms to collect the dribbling water and splashed it on his face. He ran his wet fingers through the length of his hair, pulling them behind his head.

Billy brought his gaze up to see himself staring back. He lifted his chin and started caressing it with his fingers.

His champion chin, which was almost decimated by his milf of a mother.

Billy straightened his head, breathing noisily. Lucy's words were running in a loop inside his mind, pestering him, shredding his brain apart.

"I know about your knockout fetish Billy"

***

Lucy was a 'professional'. She held a 38-6 record, which, by no means was a joke. The experience she brought to the table was unparalleled. The tactics she taught had steered him forward. She was a badass in the truest sense of the word.

And yet, Billy had always been the one in charge.

He never 'really' considered Lucy his superior. He had bested her countless times and defeated her in real bouts. They both understood who was the real boss.

But as of today, things had changed, for the worse.

Lucy, unwittingly, had a peek inside Billy's most private moment and figured out his weakness.

His weakness--being submissive to a timid woman.

But this wasn't enough. What if this woman degraded him in his domain, in his field of expertise? What if this woman knocked him out...in boxing?

And what if this woman was none other than his mother?

To fulfil his perverted fantasy, Billy had meticulously planned a perfect scenario. And was successful in its execution. However, the aftermath of those knockouts had rather been unfortunate.

Heather, his mom, had transformed.

No longer was she the loving, caring, meek woman he was used to. After knocking out 'the champ', her ego had taken over that motherly persona. She was, after all, the first 'boxer' to knock out Billy.

And she didn't forget to rub it on his face.

She taunted him mercilessly, making sure he didn't forget the new power dynamic between them.
After being on the receiving end of those distasteful taunts, he was fucking done with this fetish. No more knockout fantasies. Ever.

However, deep down, that itch to be dominated remained...

And this one-in-a-million opportunity had come knocking on Billy's doorstep. Lucy, who was both innately powerful and meek, suggested that 'she wanted to help'. Help him with what? Fulfil his fetish? Getting this out of his system? That's how she worded it.

Lucy was unknowingly snatching away his dominant position, bending him down to his knees. And he was...loving it.

The moment Lucy had uttered those fateful words, Billy's cock had been twitching with shameless excitement. His thirty-year-old submissive coach was going to 'help' him.

Billy was vividly recollecting those practice matches he fought with her. She'd give her all to mimic a fraction of his abilities. He adored her innocent eyes, filled to the brim with determination to one-up Billy.

He teased her about what kind of 'pro' she was, not even able to defeat her student, and she always laughed it off. He dreamt of the day she could best him.

The way Lucy drank water after a training session, her round lips sucking the rim of her sipper, was unintentionally sensuous.

He could picture those tiny beads of sweat running down her glistening cleavage, torturing him throughout the length of his practice. The neatly tied bun she sported and those hair strands sticking on the back of her sweaty neck had a charm of their own.

Lucy was oblivious to how devilishly sexy she looked in her training attire, her naive mind too busy focusing on her students.

Billy grinned at his reflection, which soon turned into a hysterical laugh. This was going to be so good.

The muffled noise of his laughter could be heard in the hall, though, it did not reach the locker room.

Billy finally suppressed his laugh. There was a catch, which he had consciously ignored.

What if Lucy turns out to be another Heather? What if her personality changes from the bubbly and unassuming woman she is to...

The thought itself made Billy's heart flutter. His whole life could go down the drain. Both these women could make his life a living hell. He would be spending the majority of his time kissing their butts. But why was this thought making his cock twitch?

Billy placed his palms on the lower edge of the sink, his weight now resting on his arms. It was time to face Lucy.