Comeback for fun

I returned to the corner, trembling, my cock still throbbing and my whole body aching from the pleasure I’d just experienced. But the match wasn’t over. We waited for the automatic bell to ring; about thirty seconds later, I staggered back toward the center.

Ellie seemed to already have her mind elsewhere; she was thinking of me not as an opponent, but as a delicious snack. We tapped gloves again, and she took a step back, looking up at me with a mixture of satisfaction and lingering hunger.

“I’m not done with you yet,” she said in a determined voice.

I looked into her eyes, still dazed by the end-of-round orgasm, my body now heavy and sluggish—and something inside me stirred once more, bringing back the old desire to compete, along with a new one I didn’t yet understand. “Ellie—”

She interrupted me, trying to land a punch on my chin and forcing me to raise my guard. “Come on, coach. Show me what else you can do.”

She started hopping around me playfully with that provocative smile of hers, repeatedly hitting my guard with jabs and testing my reflexes with a few hooks to the ribs.

“Poor Jack,” she teased, closing in on me again. “You’ve already come once, and now you’re slow.”

I watched her closely while keeping my guard up, and as soon as she threw that playful jab at me, I didn’t just block it—I pushed forward, shoving her aside with my shoulder. She bounced off the ropes and into me, and I grabbed her, my hands on her breasts, giving them a firm squeeze before teasing her nipples. She blushed beneath the glitter, her freckles darkening, and immediately tried to break free.

“Hey! That’s…”

“...Fair game,” I whispered hoarsely. “Now it’s my turn to play a little.”

She laughed, amused, and attacked me again. She crouched down and started aiming for my abs: right, left, right, left—I curled up into a turtle position, covering my torso and stomach, and she tried to hit me with a hook to the sides.

This time I responded with a light uppercut aimed at her chin that would almost certainly have hit her, but I decided to stop at her breasts instead. The punch pushed her back and made her breasts bounce up and down, her nipples hard and standing at attention.

“Jack!”

“I can’t help it,” I gasped, already closing in on her. “They’re so inviting.”

She tried to put some distance between us, throwing a sharp jab that hit me in the shoulder. I brushed past her and advanced, no longer pretending it hurt, and she was forced to back up toward the ropes; when she raised her guard high, I ducked: I landed a small hook to her flat stomach, sinking into her toned abs, and slid one knee forward between her thighs, then grabbed her by the hips and pulled her close to me.

I was slow but firm, my knee pushing on her crotch. I could feel her wettnes even trough the fabric. She was enjoying this, like I was before.

"You're trying to distract me," she accused, but her voice was breathless, her stance faltering.

"Is it working?" I said, in a sarcastic tone. Of course it was, and it was making her frustrasted and incredibly horny.

I began kissing her neck and shoulders while moving my knee back and forth, holding her hips steady and pressing them down. She was panting and trying to push me back, but she was slow too—she was savoring the moment. When her moans grew louder and she was about to reach a new peak of pleasure, I stopped and took a step back.

“It’s not time yet—”

She interrupted me with a flurry of punches to the face that sent my head snapping back—this time with real force—making me stagger in surprise. She used the momentum to press down on me, striking my chest and nearly knocking me over. I was far from the ropes, so I had to regain my balance, and in doing so, I left myself too exposed. One of her punches buried itself in my abs, and my cock twitched at the sensation of her glove penetrating my stomach.

“This is so easy,” she said in a mocking tone tha made my cock throb.

She grabbed my chin and forced me upright again, shoving me toward the corner. I don’t know why I let her, but she clung to me once more, this time aiming solely at my stomach, with a destructive intensity toward my abs. I put up very little resistance and didn’t even try to defend myself; the sensation of her small fists pounding my sculpted muscles sent shivers of pleasure coursing through my entire body. She kept getting closer and closer, constantly running a hand over them before and after each punch, letting it slide down to my cock, just to caress and tease and feel my reaction after each punch.

When I felt satisfied and was finally experiencing more pain than pleasure, I responded with a sudden hook punch that she dodged, and when she came back within my reach, I grabbed her and we switched places, pushing her into the corner instead. I held her arms still and leaned in close to her ear. “You’re beautiful when you’re fierce,” I whispered, and I slid one of my hands from her arm down to her waist, then pressed against her bikini, teasing her already wet slit through the fabric.

“Jack…” she moaned, her head falling back and her gloves dangling down her sides.

“Giving up already?” I teased her, as my fingers played with her clit.

“N-no…” But she didn’t push me away. She ground herself against my hand, her hips betraying her, and I felt her desire soak through the thin fabric.

I knew she was about to reach that pleasure I’d denied her once again.

I suddenly let her go, took a step back, and raised my gloves with a smile. “Then come and get me.”

She growled—playfully, desperately—and lunged at me. Now we were trading blows for real; every punch was an excuse to touch each other. She hit me on the guard; I slipped inside, and my glove found her breast, striking and squeezing it. She hooked me in the ribs; I gave her a light punch to the stomach, driving my knee between her legs in the same motion and pressing against her crotch. We were dancing, fighting, fucking through our clothes and boxing gloves. It was a feeling of renewed pleasure for me.

I pinned her in a vice-like grip, her shoulders pressed against the ropes, and this time I was the one taking her: my hand was now slipped into her bikini bottoms, my fingers finding her moist warmth, caressing her clitoris and pushing between her lower lips, while my other gloved hand held her head and my mouth devoured her gasps and moans, kissing her intensely.

“You’re so wet,” I moaned against her mouth. “Are you sure you don’t want to lose?”

“I…” She couldn’t even start the sentence. Her hips swayed against my fingers; her gloved hand slid between us to find my cock through my shorts, stimulating me with desperate, erratic movements. “I want… I want to beat you…”

“You’ve got to do better than this,” I challenged her, tightening my fingers inside her, making her scream. “I’m going to make you cum!”