First Orgasm

I stepped away from the ropes, moving slowly, exaggeratedly. I threw a lazy jab aimed at her shoulder—she dodged it easily, just as I’d taught her—but I let the follow-through swing wide, my glove grazing the side of her breast, pushing her bikini strap aside.

“Hey!” she laughed, adjusting it, and I took the opportunity to tap her lightly on the nose. Now there was fire in her eyes. “Low blow.” she growled

“You’re exposed,” I said hoarsely. “Poor defense.”

“Then try again.”

I stepped forward again with another light combination: a series of jabs to make her raise her guard, then a cross that “slipped” past her arms and grazed her other breast, the impact causing her barely contained breasts to tremble. The stars-and-stripes fabric stretched tight, a nipple peeking out from the edge.

“Ooh, you’re getting bold,” she teased, but she didn’t cover up, which genuinely caught me off guard.

This time she attacked me with a real combination: a double jab, two cross-hooks through my guard, and an uppercut—all precise, all clean. I blocked the first two, let the hooks hit me on the outside of my guard, moving with them and letting out grunts that weren’t entirely fake. I crouched down to get to her height and protect my chest and stomach, and the last punch hit me right in the mouth. The impact sent my head snapping back, made me stagger, and she advanced with a flurry of body shots that pushed me back toward the center.

“I got you!” A punch to the abdomen that almost bounced back.

“-Got you!” A punch to my left side, very low, at kidney level. That almost hurt.

“-Got you!” A punch to my sculpted abs—I didn’t tense up and let her fist sink into my flesh. I could hear a sort of purr of pleasure coming from her.

None of these punches were enough to really put a dent in me, but I could feel her relentless domination over my entire body, and my cock throbbing harder and harder at each punch. I moved with every impact, grunted at just the right moments, making her believe she was tearing me apart piece by piece.

Then her glove aimed lower, striking me squarely on my cock through my shorts, forcing a loud gasp from my body and making me slump onto her shoulders.

With my chin resting on her collarbone, she whispered sweet, dominant words to me while massaging my cock.

“You’re close,” she observed, breathing heavily. “In fact, you’re very close. You like it, don’t you? Getting beaten up by a girl covered in glitter.”

“I can’t help it,” I gasped, squirming in her grip. “You’re… too sexy to fight.”

She smiled radiantly, intoxicated by the compliment and her victory. She pushed me back toward the ropes with the palm of her hand on my chest, and I let her do it willingly, allowing her to trap me there again, resting my arms on the top rope.

She pressed her whole body against me, with her thigh between mine, grinding against my swollen testicles, while a glove stimulated my penis and her lips brushed against my chest, making my nipples harden and sending shivers through me in a way I never experienced before.

“Poor Jack,” she whispered. “All those muscles, all that experience, and now you’re just my toy, aren’t you?”

I moaned, letting my head fall back against the ropes, offering her my throat. “Fuuuuck…,” I sighed slowly.

She stood on her tiptoes to bite, suck and kiss my collarbone—hard enough to leave a mark, a hickey—and her hand moved faster, pushing my cock against my stomach, the tip poking out from above my shorts. I was close… embarrassingly, humiliatingly close because of her confidence, her rhythm, and the way she genuinely believed she was beating me.

But I wasn’t done yet.

I pushed myself away from the ropes with a feigned desperate lunge, throwing a wild hook that she easily dodged—but I let my hand drop toward her lower body, using the momentum to strike her chest, my gloved hands “accidentally” grabbing her bikini top and yanking it down.

Her breasts sprang free, small and perfect, her nipples hard with adrenaline and excitement.

“Jack!”

“Sorry,” I gasped, feeling no remorse, savoring the view with a mocking smirk on my face. “You were… too close. I lost control.”

She blushed, instinctively trying to cover herself, then stopped. She realized she was in a match. She raised her gloves again with a fierce smile.

“Fine. If that’s how you want to play.” Her predatory gaze and the sight of her perfect breasts tightened my chest once more and made my cock throb painfully, bringing me close to orgasm.

She came at me with everything she had: combinations I’d seen before, but delivered with all her strength. Jab-cross-hook-uppercut—combinations I’d taught her, but which she managed to execute faster than my own demonstration. I blocked most of them, letting the uppercut hit my chin with a satisfying snap, allowing it to stun me just enough to make me stagger into her next clinch.

Her bare breasts pressed against my abs; her glove found my cock again, and this time there was no provocative curiosity. She gripped me with determination, working me with the rhythm of a boxer who knew her opponent was up against the ropes. It felt like a professional fight.

“You’re mine,” she growled, her beautiful face streaked with glitter and a fierce expression. “Say it.”

“Oh yes...” I gasped, my hips writhing helplessly. “All yours.” I added trying to be sarcastic.

“Are you about to come for me? Are you about to give in right here, against the ropes?”

“I can’t… I can’t hold back…” It felt good to act so vulnerable.

She smiled triumphantly, and her hand moved faster, her thumb pressing that perfect spot, her other gloved hand keeping me immobilized with little taps to my jaw that felt like kisses.

I was so close I had to close my eyes and focus on my breathing just to hold back. For the first time, I had to engage in an aspect of the fight I’d never had to face before. I felt reborn despite the awkward position, just as my desire to fight had been reborn.

But I wanted more. I wanted it to last.

I threw another “desperate” punch, aiming for her bare breast, with the glove grazing her tit and poking her nipple. She flinched, losing her rhythm, and I took advantage of that moment to spin us around, pushing her against the ropes, my cock rubbing against her hip through my shorts.

“You still have some fight left in you...” she whispered, not disappointed, but aroused.

“Yes… I can’t let you win that easily,” I tried, my voice breaking with pleasure.

“Good.”

She kneed me in the balls—not hard, just enough to make me double over—then grabbed my head with her gloves and pulled me toward her in a kiss, deep and demanding, her tongue invading me while her thigh pressed between mine. I moaned into her mouth, letting her feel just how completely she was overwhelming me, how her “technique” had reduced a veteran to a pile of mush.

She broke the kiss and spun me around; her strength surprised her as much as it did me, and suddenly I found myself facing the ropes, her body pressed against my back and her gloved hand encircling me to grab me again.

“Ten years,” she whispered against my neck, as her hand teased me with devastating patience. “Ten years of training, and in the end, you’ll come in my hand like a beginner unable to control himself.”

“Ellie—”

“Shhh.” She bit my ear as her thumb stroked my frenulum. “Just accept it. Take your punishment. Come for me, Jack. Come for your own sake and let yourself go the way you know you want to.”

I was trembling—really trembling—my hips swaying in her grip, my hands clinging to the ropes for support. She kept talking: sweet, dirty, dominant whispers about how she’d beaten me, about how I was hers now, about how a rookie like her was about to beat me in the most humiliating way possible.

I was so close. So ready to explode, to give her the victory she believed she’d earned.

But not yet. I wanted more. I was tormenting myself, but I wanted to give her more satisfaction.

I delivered one last backward elbow strike—light, aimed at her side—just enough to make her grip loose. I turned in her arms to face her and let my gloved hand “accidentally” brush against her breast, squeeze her nipple, make her gasp and blush, and momentarily lose her dominance.

“It’s… not over,” I gasped, my cock pressing against her stomach, my whole body aching from denied pleasure, as I played with her nipples to calm myself down.

She smiled at me and slapped my hands away from her breasts, stepping back and beckoning me with a wave of her hand to join her in the center of the ring.

“All right,” she said, hopping on her tiptoes. “Let’s finish this properly.”

I approached her with unsteady legs, and Ellie moved with a technique that would have made any coach proud: a jab toward my guard to distract me, then shifting to my left side with a cross that slammed into my gloves. A devastating body hook followed—the punches were all precise, all landing, while I “couldn’t” defend myself; every punch made me groan and stagger. I lowered my guard, gave her a glimpse of an opening, and she took advantage of it with the confidence of a champion.

Her glove struck my jaw, snapping my head back, and as I “staggered,” she followed up with a body shot that made me double over, right into her waiting grip.

She grabbed me; her gloved hand wrapped around my cock again, her other arm supported my body, guiding my head onto her shoulders, and her voice—breathless and triumphant—whispered in my ear.

“I’ve got you. Finally, you’re mine.”

I moaned, letting my weight fall onto her, letting her feel just how “weak” and dazed I was, just how much power she had over me.

“I’m about to come,” I whispered, no longer pretending at all. “I can’t hold back longer....”

“Then come,” she ordered, moving her hand decisively, her bare breast pressed against my chest. “Lose for me, Jack. Come right here in the ring and prove that I’m better than you.”

I let myself go.

The orgasm swept over me with devastating force; my penis throbbed inside her glove, my semen soaked my shorts, my lower abdomen, and her hand, while my whole body trembled with the pleasure she had brought me. I slumped even further against her, drained of strength for a few seconds, my knees actually buckling for real, and she supported me with an arm around my waist and a smile of pure, deserved triumph.

She purred in my ear and before either of us could do something, the bell rang again, signaling the end of the round.

"Go rest coach," She said, softly pushing me away and cleaning her glove on my chest. "I'm gonna think of another way to make you cum in the next round."