Lucy suggests watching Billy fight his mom

“How about I come to your house, and I watch your next fight, hm? In person. I can sit right on the couch and watch. Then I can prove to you that this is all just a fantasy.”

Heather beamed.

“That would be perfect,” she cooed.

Heather liked the idea of knocking out her son in front of his own coach. Especially with how much faith Lucy seemed to have in Billy’s skill… How might seeing him get slept by a milf, by his own mom, affect Lucy’s view of her prodigal student?

Lucy liked this plan too. This way, Billy would have no excuses. No way of keeping up the charade. Even if for some reason he was willing to fake being knocked out while his coach was in the room, she would easily be able to prove that he was still awake, and the whole fantasy would come crumbling down. She would prove that Heather had never really bested him.

A time and a place was agreed upon. And shortly, the day of the match came. The living room furniture once again moved to make space for an anxious athlete and a smug, busty milf - each gloved up. Only this time, Lucy sat in the same room, observing mere feet away, from atop the couch.

Billy shot her a nervous glance, then another back to his smug mother. She lifted her gloves up. Those damned gloves. They’d put him out so many times…

Heather wore her usual “outboxing Billy” attire. The too-small pink sports bra and the tight yoga pants hugging her legs and ass. Her face had a look of restrained glee, and utter confidence. She knew how this fight was going to end. She looked Billy right in the eyes, unflinching, a smirk on her gorgeous face. As if to say “it’s naptime, honey”.

Billy tried to shake his nerves. If ever there was a time to not get KOed stiff by his mom, it was right now. He couldn’t lose like that. He couldn’t let himself be laid out **** in front of his coach. Made to drool. Put to sleep. Not by his untrained mother. Not in one punch.

The match began. Cautiously, the muscular young man stepped towards his goddess of a mom, his gloves raised defensively and heart racing in his powerful chest.

Heather’s confidence was certainly hard-earned, after beating down an undefeated younger man, and a champion at that, time and time again. Knocking out an arrogant loudmouth. Her own son. But Billy tried not to think about that now. Tried not to think about how small he must look as a crumpled heap at her feet, every time those loaded gloves touch his undefeated chin.

Oh, god. Was it going to happen again? In front of his coach? Was he about to be… Knocked out by his mom?