New emotions

Once we reached a secluded ring, several meters away from the nearest match and with no one watching us, I helped Ellie climb through the ropes. We were still talking as she adjusted her gloves when she asked me how long I'd been boxing.

“Almost ten years,” I said. “I always liked the sport itself. The competition, the technique, the feeling of overpowering someone who thought they could beat me. The erotic side never really interested me. To me, humiliating an opponent was about proving you were stronger, not about using them for pleasure. What about you?”

“I started only a few months ago,” she replied. “I love the adrenaline. I get a rush whether I win or lose.” She gave me a playful look. “And, honestly, it seemed like a pretty interesting way to explore my sexuality with other women. The only man I'd ever fought before this tournament was my boyfriend, but he always let me win.”

“So Max was your first real challenge?”

“Unfortunately.” She rolled her eyes. “When he beat me, I thought he was going to make a spectacle of me in front of everyone. But he didn't even seem interested.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Really.” She smiled sheepishly. “I'm relieved, obviously. But…” Her gaze lingered on me for a moment. “Maybe a little disappointed, too. It made me wonder if I was simply too weak to be worth his attention.”

“Oh, no,” I said, shaking my head. “That's not it. Max likes men. He practically hates fighting women. You don't have to worry about him.”

“Oh…” Her eyebrows rose. “I had no idea.”

“Now you know.”

“I suppose that explains a lot.”

She gave me another one of those little smiles, and I suddenly became very aware of how close we were standing.

“If you want,” I said, trying to sound casual, “I could teach you some actual boxing basics. Most modern gyms skip straight to the sexual side of the sport. They don't bother teaching people how to really fight anymore.”

Her face immediately brightened.

“Oh, really?”

“Really.”

She tilted her head, giving me an amused look. “Sure. And maybe after you teach me, I'll kick your ass with everything you showed me.”

I laughed, though something about the way she said it made me look away for a moment.

“That's the idea.”

“Good.” She stepped closer, smiling. “I like the sound of that.”

I started with the fundamentals: footwork, stance, balance, keeping her guard up, and moving without crossing her feet. Then came the basic combinations—jabs, hooks, one-twos, and the defensive movements needed to deal with them. Ellie absorbed everything almost immediately.

She was a natural.

Not merely athletic. She understood what I was showing her almost instinctively, correcting her mistakes after only one demonstration. All she really lacked was experience.

“Again,” I said.

She nodded and repeated the combination.

“Better.”

“Only better?”

I smiled. “Don't get cocky.”

“Too late.”

She threw the combination again, faster this time, and I barely had time to react before her glove tapped my arm.

“Got you!”

I laughed. “That was luck.”

“Was it?”

She did it again.

“Got you.”

This time she deliberately aimed the final punch toward my side, forcing me to move.

I stepped back, grinning despite myself. My cock throbbed every time she struck the punching bag with a combination I’d shown her, never missing a beat. I imagined my own face taking that impact, my knees buckling, dropping at her feet while she stood over me - victor and free to take whatever she wanted from my beaten body.

She noticed. Of course she noticed.

“You're enjoying this.”

“Maybe.” Her eyes flicked over me. “You're making it pretty easy to enjoy.”

Something tightened in my chest.

I raised my gloves. “Again.”

She came at me with another combination. I blocked the first strike, slipped the second, and expected the hook that followed—but Ellie changed the timing at the last instant and caught me on the arm.

“Got you.”

She was smiling now, clearly delighted with herself.

I should have been annoyed.

Instead, I couldn't stop staring at her.

For the first time in years, I was looking at an opponent and seeing something other than another easy victory. Ellie wasn't just attractive. She was quick, eager, competitive—and she seemed to enjoy getting under my skin almost as much as I enjoyed watching her learn.

And the worst part was that she knew it.

Every time she landed another unexpected touch, that mischievous smile returned, as if she were testing just how much control she had over me.

For the first time in years, I couldn’t hold back or control my erection. I was hard and obvious in my shorts, completely at the mercy of my hormones and emotions - and she knew it.

She stepped closer, her gold gloves hanging loose at her sides. “You’re supposed to be teaching me how to win a sex-boxing match,” she said softly. “But you’re acting like you’ve already lost one.”

I opened my mouth to deny it, to reassert control, to remind her I was the veteran and she was the scared first-timer.

Instead I stood there, silent and aching, while she smiled up at me with glitter on her cheeks and victory already in her eyes.

"I guess is time to have our match~!"