Yeah… Sweet dreams, Billy

As agreed, Coach Lucy silently crept towards Billy’s house, to watch from the window as he and his mother prepared for yet another match. Another fight. She hoped that this time, he wouldn’t “pretend” to get knocked out. She hoped that her student would stand up to his mother this time.

Lucy watched as they pushed around couches, to clear a space for the upcoming fight. Well, it was mostly Billy doing the pushing. Heather just stood and observed with a smirk, gloved hands on her fantastically ample hips, cocked confidently to one side. Her massive breasts were stuffed into a pink sports bra that clearly wasn’t fully up to the challenge of containing them, and despite herself, the sight drew Lucy’s eye. Holy shit… Billy’s mom really had it going on. With that kind of body she could have made a fortune as a model, or hell, even a stripper, but she was satisfied being a stay-at-home mom. At least, until she discovered the joys of boxing her son.

“I… I won’t get KO’d this time, mom.” Billy said, his mouth feeling a bit dry as he lifted his gloves. Was he… shaking, a little?

Heather snorted.

“Fat fucking chance.”

The cocky, beautiful milf bent over, revealing the incredible heart-shaped cheeks of her ass, and drawing both her son’s eye and that of the unknown second observer. Taking her time, she slowly lifted herself up, enjoying Billy’s stare, holding a long piece of fabric which she now tied around her waist. A black belt. She was wearing a martial arts black belt.

Smiling, she tied it around her waist, then gave her body a little shake to test the tightness. Her perfect, big, jiggly tits reacted to the motion. Lucy and Billy were simply in awe. Without a word, Heather pointed to one side, and Billy stared along the path of her finger. Seeming timid, and with a quick nervous glance at the window which Lucy his in, Billy finally gave in and retrieved his own white belt, then submissively put it on.

“Oh my fucking god…” Lucy said, under her breath.

This crazy milf really had her club champion son wrapped around her finger, huh? Lucy had never seen Billy so cowed. If Heather could make someone so usually proud and confident do something so demeaning…

Why Billy played along with it, Lucy still didn’t understand. Wanting to make your mother happy was one thing, but repeatedly pretending to get knocked out cold by her? Then just laying there as she taunted and mocked your limp, defeated, “sleeping” body? That she didn’t understand.

Why would an athletic young man let his mother think she could beat him in a fight? Not only that, but handily beat him? Utterly thrash him, and leave him **** on the floor for minutes? Or even hours? One tap to the jaw, and your great boxer son is snoring… One little tap is all it takes for this great milf. It would be a confidence booster for her, sure, but at the utter sacrifice of the “****” boy’s dignity. What kind of son gets knocked out by his own mom? What kind of son loses fights, goes to sleep, for the woman who raised them?

WHACK-WHACK-WHACK! Sleep. That’s for being out after curfew.

Lucy shook her head. Well, whatever. She didn’t have to understand it. He would be putting a stop to it today, anyway. She focused back on where Heather and Billy stood across from one another, their postures and levels of self-assuredness total opposites of each other, about to start the match.

“Don’t forget - you’re just a little fucking white belt. And white belts get knocked out by black belts.” Heather purred. “You’re about to get the best night’s sleep of your life, Billy.”

Lucy watched as Heather gleefully charged her son down, huge tits swinging with her punches and face a giddy, grinning mask of joy. Even from this distance, Lucy could feel the **** confidence that Heather exuded. Her punches were slow, her technique was bad, but she was just so confident. She really believed this fight only had one possible outcome. Only one possible ending. The same one as all of her previous fights - a chin-crunching milf fist, and a floppy champion son.

Heather began mocking Billy as he moved quickly, dodging and evading her wild strikes with elite boxing skill. The contrast between the two had never been more obvious. But why did he actually look scared? Was he putting it on for her?

“Come on, son! It’s night-night time, ahaha!” Heather grinned. “As soon as one of these hands touch you, you’re toast!”

“I- I’m not gonna let you-“

Billy’s meek response was cut off as Heather’s glove made contact. WHAM!

With a gasp, Billy’s head was knocked to one side. Lucy watched from the window as the most promising young boxer she’d ever known, perhaps the most promising young boxer ever, took an unsteady step back, and then fell unceremoniously like a sack of potatoes. Just dropped. Dropped right down at his mother’s feet.

He landed on his back HARD. Obviously limp. And he didn’t move to get up. Had he just tripped, or…? No. His arms lay still at his sides. Nobody was home.

What the fuck? What was he doing? Why was he pretending to lose again? Even from the window, Lucy could tell what a sloppy punch that was. Hardly a finishing blow for someone like Billy. She was shocked Heather had even managed to land it on him - why the fuck was he pretending that was the one to finally slay him? The punch to seperate his soul from his body? Another “knockout loss” would only make his unskilled, big-titted mom even more arrogant. Even more sure of herself. Even more mocking towards her son’s boxing skill, as he slept off another shocking defeat to her.

“HA! You were saying, Billy…?” Heather laughed, taunting and teasing her sleepy son.

She went on, rubbing in yet another loss on Billy’s so-called undefeated record. Yet another KO. She openly mocked him, to his sleeping, fully **** face, about how he’d just gotten punched out by his mommy. The “Boxing Queen”, as she put it. The household champ. Lucy was sure he was awake down there, hearing every single word, yet still he made no effort to get up. To show he was still conscious inside that rattled head of his.

What the fuck, Billy? Why was he just taking this from her? Why was he pretending to get knocked out again? It wasn’t even a good punch…

Lucy leaned in closer to the window and squinted, trying to get a better look at her club’s champion. She saw his glassy, unblinking, unfocused eyes, and a line of drool running out from his mouth.

Fuck, he was really playing it up for her too. He wasn’t just pretending his mom had knocked him out. He was acting like he was OUT out. Like, done and dusted. Why was he letting her get away with this?

“You really think that YOU decide whether you get KO’d or not? In your dreams!” Heather laughed, squatting down beside her son. She leaned forward, showing off her impressive, heavy milf ass to Lucy in the window again. It only rubbed salt in the wound.

This was who Billy was letting “beat” him. A genetically stacked, gorgeous older woman. A milf with no boxing skill whatsoever. His own mother. And he was just letting her think she was better than him. Think that she’d punched his chin and shut his brain off, HARD. Think that her fists were like a pair of “off” buttons for her unbeatable champion son.

Heather leaned in close, beautiful plush lips curved into a wicked smile, and kissed his sleeping chin. Kissed her son to bed, right on the spot she’d used to put him out. Like she was buffing out a mark. First the hard knuckles, now the soft lips. Her sweet little champion got to have it all.

She kissed him again, and again, wagging her big round ass in excitement as she lay kiss after kiss upon his defeated jaw. His champion chin. The chin that could withstand anything… Except his mom.

“Sleeping on the job again. Pathetic.” Heather purred.

That ridiculous white belt on his waist. His idiotic “knocked-the-fuck-out” expression. His limp arms, his glassy eyes, his fucking drool… Lucy had seen enough. She turned, walked back to her car, and drove home. She needed time to process.

She couldn’t believe that BILLY of all people was letting this happen. Billy, whose biggest downfall was usually his own arrogance and overconfidence. Billy, who took such pride in his elite boxing talent and potential. Billy, her club’s undefeated champion. And he was giving it all up, laying on the floor, and even pretending to drool, just so that his mother would… What? So she would think she was strong? So she would think he was weak? So that she would hover her fantastic body just over his and lay kiss after kiss upon him, as she mocked him and called him a loser?

This wasn’t the end. Lucy wasn’t done. She had to set Billy back on the right path, and stop him from giving up his chin and his pride to his stacked goddess of a mother.