35-year-old experienced boxer Marcus, by a cheating busty goth chick

Marcus stood in the ring, loosening up as he eyed his opponent carefully. This was about to be a match like no other he’d fought in his long boxing career, for more than one reason. It would be him vs a cocky female boxer who challenged him to a mixed fight in his gym, that much he knew. What he didn’t know was that the arrogant busty chick was also a cheater. How had he ended up here?

Pacifica was her name. Ten minute earlier, she’d walked through the gym doors with a swagger in her broad hips like she owned the place. Eyeing up the training boxers like she owned them. She carried a school bag on her back, and as she set it down, Marcus got a better look at the arrogant chesty bitch.

She had dark hair with bangs, porcelain white skin, and black lipstick. A silver crucifix necklace dangled in her deep cleavage. As stated, her cans were huge from behind her tight, clingy black t-shirt bearing the album cover of some metal band.

She looked 18 years old, probably from some preppy private school nearby to the slums the gym was in. Saint Mary’s Girls’ School? Amber Road Catholic High School? Marcus didn’t really care.

She picked him out immediately, and challenged him to a fight, probably because he was the one watching her, overconfident as can be. Marcus hadn't ever seen her in the gym before, and she didn’t look like much of a boxer.

“What did you say?” he asked.

“I said you’re gonna get fucked up,” she grinned. “I’ll knock you out in seconds. Hear me? Seconds!”

Marcus’ face reddened as Pacifica loudly challenged his manhood in front of his gym, some of whom were starting to turn and see what all the commotion is.

“I’m not going to box some high school girl,” he replied flatly. “I’d be happy to run some sessions for you if you want to get started.”

“Aww, scared?” Pacifica cooed, crossing her arms over her firm, massive bust as she looked almost all the way up to make eye contact with the much taller man. “If you don’t want me to knock you out, then why were you staring at me?”

Marcus didn’t like what she was saying. There was no way in hell was he gonna let some spoiled teenaged girl emasculate him in front of his gym like this. Big tits, big money, big mouth. If Miss Jugs thought she could beat him, then there was no honor to follow in telling her she couldn’t. She believed she was a worthy opponent, so he was justified in putting that to the rest.

“Fine,” he said, trying not to grin. “Is there a daddy we should call after you start crying?”

Pacifica just rolled her eyes, lowering her head to break eye contact as she picked up her school bag and began walking toward one of the gym’s boxing rings. She moved with that same hip-swaying swagger that shook her massive ass for him. Even from behind, her milkers could still be seen poking out from the sides of her torso.

“Whatever,” she said, sounding like she genuinely didn’t care, as she bent over her school bag and fished a hand around inside. “I just came here to knock someone out.”

With that, she pulled out two black boxing gloves from the bag, and began putting them on her delicate, pale hands. Their black leather was decorated with artistic white skulls painted onto them, looking like she'd freshly doodled them with classroom wite-out earlier today during school. She must've been looking forward to this, if she was daydreaming about it while bored in class. So these were the gloves this chick expected to knock him out with? Marcus didn’t see the big deal.

But he was about to feel it. And then he would feel nothing at all.