Boxing Coach Lucy notices Billy acting strange

At school, Billy tried not to think about it. About how his mom had knocked him out. About how she’d taken to wearing a black belt, and “teaching” him techniques while he wore that stupid white belt. He tried to put all of that to the side, and focus on his real training. Hitting pads and sparring with genuine boxers, drilling with his coaches, not picturing himself slumped and sleeping in his own living room. In here, he was the champion, and he did his best to act like it.

But his one of his boxing coaches saw right through that. Coach David was too much of an arrogant musclehead to notice. Coach Henry was too inexperienced and enthusiastic to stop and watch. But Coach Lucy knew Billy too well. She could tell something was up. He wasn’t behaving like himself.

Lucy was a former pro boxer herself, now 33 and focused on coaching. Though not officially the Head Coach, she was generally in charge of leading training for the club.

Coach Henry was young and had no pro experience, and though Coach David had once been a great boxer, he didn’t make for the best teacher with his lack of patience and anger problems. Coach Lucy was the perfect blend of talented, experienced, and great at teaching. She wore her hair in a long high ponytail, and her tall, fit body gleamed with sweat. A tight black tank top clung to her slippery, slick skin like it was magnetized. She always worked hard to make these kids into great boxers.

Coach Lucy was tall, lean, and all of her training had given her the most perfect, round bubble butt you’ll ever see. Her healthy lifestyle made it difficult to tell she was any older than 25.

Though not nearly as genetically stacked as Billy’s mother was, Lucy was still beautiful. She had a pretty face, toned arms, long, smooth, powerful legs, and a gorgeous flat, toned belly - not to mention that her breasts were quite a bit bigger than most female athlete's, if not quite measuring up to Heather’s milk trucks. She easily had the biggest boobs of any female boxer, at just more than a handful each.

Billy was the best student she’d ever trained. Not just the best in the club - the best ever. She had no doubt that if he kept up with his training, he would be a world champion one day. The boy was tough as nails, undefeated, and had damn near perfect technique, and tons of power. He was a knockout machine.

Besides that, he was a physical specimen and a perfect athlete with amazing work ethic. There were pros ranked in the top ten right now that Lucy bet Billy could put up a good fight against, and he wasn’t even 20 yet. But something had been off about him lately. He was acting strange. Unfocused, a bit less aggressive than normal. Almost timid.

Waiting for a pause in the training to approach him alone, Coach Lucy asked the greatest boxing prodigy she’d ever known what was wrong.

“I’m only asking because it seems like your head isn’t in the game,” she clarified. “It’s like you’re thinking about something else when we train. So, what is it?”

Billy didn’t answer. He couldn’t even look his coach in the face, and he was clearly embarrassed. Lucy decided to press further.

“Is everything alright at home?” she asked.

Billy blushed. Hidden inside his boxing shirt, his cock twitched and grew a little bit harder.

“No,” he replied in almost a squeak. “I’m just tired, I guess.”

“Not getting enough sleep?”

Billy paused, frozen, then slowly shook his head.

“I- I guess not.”

Lucy didn’t say anything more. But she knew he wasn’t telling her everything. So, later that night, after Billy and his boxing clubmates had gone, she decided to pay his house a visit. Maybe speaking with his mother could help her find out what was wrong. She didn’t like seeing Billy’s performance suffer, and she doubted his mom would want like it any more.

After club, Lucy wrapped up a few final things and packed away all of the gear, then drove to his house in search of answers. She knocked on the door, but got no answer.

Finding it a bit odd that no one would be inside with their car parked in the driveway, Lucy was about to leave it for another day when she casually glanced through the window beside the front door.

She gasped in shock.

Inside, she saw Billy sleeping on his back on the carpet, limbs splayed out like a starfish, and his own pair of boxing gloves firmly on his limp, outstretched hands.

Lucy put a hand to her breasts in shock as she stared at her star pupil. His mouth was hanging open, staring up at the ceiling, and he was clearly sound asleep, chest rising and falling slowly with his deep, steady breaths.

She never thought she would see him like this. Never. He was unresponsive. Her club champion, her best and brightest, was laying limp on his back totally fucking asleep. He looked like a fucking idiot, to be honest, with his mouth hanging open like that. Some people knocked out well, but apparently, Billy was not one of them. He was a pretty unflattering loser. Even the way he’d landed on the floor with his limbs all spread out like that was humiliating.

Lucy cringed, her dreams of Billy becoming world champion suddenly tainted with the idea of him knocked out like this on the world stage in front of thousands, and turned into a meme. That stupid, dumbass sleepy face and that limp-ass body. This was not a photogenic pose he was holding right now. She shook her head to try and clear it.

What had happened to him? Who had done this to Billy? Just… Just KO’d him? Was another member from the club visiting? But who could’ve been able to completely stop him like this?

She almost wished she could’ve seen it… What sort of vicious punch would it take to slip past Billy’s defences? What kind of precise form could be enough to crack the code on his chin, and put him to sleep? What kind of perfect boxer would it take to outfight and finish off BILLY?

Just then, Heather stepped into the living room where her son lay, down for the count. Lucy recognized Billy’s mother from their past meetings at club. In fact, just a few hours ago Heather had picked Billy up to drive him home, and thanked Lucy for looking after him.

At the moment, Heather had wet hair, and had it all down. Her tightly packed sports bra and skin-tight yoga pants emphasized her impressive booty, and made her status as a goddess plain to see. She must have just stepped out of the shower, and she was still gleaming with water droplets.

She held a white towel around her shoulders, slowly wiping at her glistening cleavage in small, precise circles. Lucy held her breath and watched.

Heather stopped, and smirked down at her out-cold son.

“You’re /still/ out?!” she grinned, surprised. “Billy, honey, it’s been ten minutes!”

Lucy gasped again. Billy’s mother didn’t seem at all surprised to find her son like this. She wasn’t acting alarmed or even slightly concerned. Had… Had she done this to him?

Billy’s mom had never been an athlete of any sort. She was a hot piece of ass with an amazing rack, but physically… There should have been no way she could ever been able to… And Billy would never lose to some random mature older woman, let alone his own…

Lucy couldn’t stay to watch any more. This was too much. She left in shock, driving back home with that image of her champion limp on his back, staring up at the ceiling, defeated at long last, bouncing around in her head.

There was no way her best student had just been KO’d by his own untrained, milfy mother… right?