Backyard Boxing (Full Story)

“I just think it’s cute that you’re trying to box.”
Kelly huffed and folded her arms beneath her breasts, pushing them up and straining her sports bra. She couldn’t believe her husband’s condescending attitude. “What exactly is cute about it?” she asked him, not hiding her annoyance.
“Well, just you know…,” Scott responded, trying his best to shake off his wife’s budding argument.
“No, I don’t know. What about it is cute?”
Scott rolled his eyes. “It’s just that girls can’t box,” he said as way of putting an end to things. “That’s all.”
“Girls can’t what?” Kelly exclaimed. “That is the most chauvinistic thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Sorry, but it’s just reality. Look, I’m sure you can do great against the other girls in your gym, but if you ever stepped into the ring against a real fighter you’d —”
“How about you and I go a few rounds, then?” she said, interrupting his misogynistic rant.
Scott laughed. “Ha, yeah sure,” he said dismissively. “I’d kill you.”
“What, are you scared of fighting a little girl? I thought we couldn’t box?”
“I’m not having this argument,” Scott said and pushed past his wife.
“You afraid I’ll kick your ass, baby?” Kelly cooed as Scott made his way to the kitchen to pour a glass of water.
“Did you forget I boxed in college?”
“No, I remember. You talk about it all the time. That’s why I want to see if I can take ya.” She sauntered up to him, swinging her hips seductively. “It’ll be good practice.” She leaned in close and grabbed his glass then took a long, slow sip from it. “Besides, it’s kinda hot, both of us sweaty, heaving, seeing whose the stronger sex.” She handed him back his glass. “I wanna knock you out.”
“You’re actually serious about this?”
“You bet I am. I’ve been getting pretty good and you clearly underestimate female opponents. I bet I can bust you up.”
Scott could feel his wife’s eyes burning a hole through his own. Uncomfortable under her stare, he turned away.
“Oh, come on,” she goaded, following closely behind him. She caught up and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I’ll make it worth your while,” she whispered in his ear as her fingers toyed with his belt. Scott froze. He turned his head to gaze down at his wife over his shoulder. “Now I’ve got your attention,” she teased. “If you can beat me, I’ll do anything you want me to.” Kelly smiled as she felt Scott’s pants tighten.
“Alright fine,” he said, head swimming with images of his wife in various skimpy outfits and positions. “But don’t come crying when I knock you down.”
“Yay!” exclaimed Kelly as she hopped back and clapped her hands together. “Oh, I’m going to beat you so bad. God, I’m getting wet just thinking about it.”
Scott looked on, wide-eyed, as his wife ran a hand over her tight shorts, fingers lingering in delicate places before hooking over the waistband and pulling them down slowly, revealing a thong that barely covered anything. “Go grab your gloves and meet me outside,” she said in a husky voice that was nearly quavering. “Let’s see who’s the better boxer, baby.”
Still unsure how he had gotten here, Scott retrieved his gloves and made his way out to the yard. Kelly was already there, flashing her pink gloves through the air as she shadowboxed across the lawn. She wore only her tight sports bra and that ludicrously small thong. Light shone off her tan skin, glistening in the afternoon sun.
Scott stepped out onto the grass. “Let’s get this over with,” he said and began to lace up his gloves.
“Hold on now,” Kelly interrupted him. She stopped her exercise and turned to him now. “You can’t fight in that if I’m dressed like this.”
Scott shrugged. “What do you mean?”
“We’ll, judging from your eyes,” Kelly purred, leaning down to draw Scott’s attention away from her cleavage, “I’d say you’re distracted. I want to beat you on even footing. Pants and shirt off.”
Scott scoffed, but Kelly wouldn’t budge. He ditched his shirt. Kelly raised an eyebrow. Blushing, Scott removed his shorts. He was wearing a pair of tight briefs that hugged the hefty package between his legs. Kelly whistled playfully as she eyed her husband’s bulging manhood. Scott shrunk towards the door a bit, clearly uncomfortable at how exposed he was out here in their backyard.
“There we go,” said Kelly. “All even. Now let’s rumble!” She had brought out a little bell and set it on a lawn chair near the picket fence which lined the yard. She skipped over to it and rang it. Ding, ding.
Not quite ready, Scott quickly finished lacing up his gloves as his wife approached, fists up. He turned to face her. His eyes drifted from her face to her jiggling breasts to her exposed stomach, then lower. She looked incredible and he had made up his mind to put an end to this quickly and get to the fun.
“This is ridiculous,” he sighed as they circled each other. “I mean, look at your stance.”
Kelly frowned from behind her gloves. “What’s wrong with my stance?”
“Well, for starters, your feet are way too close together. I can knock you over just like this!” He swung, his hook emphasizing the word.
Kelly, however, had been watching her husband’s movement closely and simply dipped backward as Scott’s glove sailed by. Before he could recover his stance, she planted her feet and delivered her own jab straight into Scott’s unprotected eye.
He yelped as his head snapped back.
“Stance seems to be working just fine for me,” Kelly teased.
“Lucky shot,” Scott groused, shaking off her punch and resuming his fighter’s pose. “You’re still off balance. You can’t get any power or set up a combination standing like that.”
“Well, I managed to hit you, didn’t I? And you haven’t landed a punch yet. Hmm…,” she flashed a cheeky smile from behind her gloves. Kelly flicked another jab at Scott, who blocked it easily.
“See?” he said. “No power. This is how you do it.” And with that he threw out a jab of his own. Kelly blocked it, but the jab was just a setup for Scott’s massive hook. He threw the punch with wild abandon, planning to end the fight right then and there. Again, however, he underestimated Kelly, who slipped her husband’s haymaker swing, ducked and then followed it up with her own attack, a straight right delivered directly into Scott’s exposed stomach.
“Huuuuuuuuu,” Scott wheezed as his petite wife drove the air out of his lungs.
“Oh, great shot!”
Kelly jumped at the sound of another voice. She turned to find her young neighbor, Stacy, standing at the fence and watching.
“Thank you,” said Kelly with a little nod and grin. Behind her, Scott sunk to his knees, still gasping and clutching his stomach. “We’re having a little boxing match to see who’s stronger.”
“It looks like you’re winning so far,” Stacy quipped, watching with lusty glee as Scott struggled to regain his breath on the lawn behind his wife.
“You hear that, baby? We have an audience to watch me beat you up!” Kelly was absolutely beaming as she leaned over her downed husband.
Scott, meanwhile, had managed to get some air back into his lungs and was now making his way back onto his feet. He huffed as he did so.
“Was there any power to that punch?” Kelly asked innocently.
“No more freebies,” Scott choked out. His stomach hurt, but he did his best to hide it. It was just a fluke, had to be. His wife had landed two hard punches while he hadn’t been able to hit her yet. He was going to change that.
The two fighters circled each other. Stacy clapped excitedly from the next yard, but Scott ignored her. He wasn’t thrilled at having a spectator, dressed as he was, but what could he do? If she wanted to watch him knock Kelly down, so be it.
Scott threw out a few jabs, Kelly deflected them, responding in kind.
“Oh come on, baby, you’re not even trying,” whined Kelly.
Scott scowled. He was annoyed now. He swung for his wife’s pretty head. She ducked, again, too quick for him and then ripped off two punches that hit him in his already damaged eye, smack smack.
“Yay!” cheered Stacy. “Go girls!”
Scott fumed. While Kelly was distracted by Stacy he launched a right at her chest. His glove flattened her breast.
“Ow!” Kelly yelped, hopping back.
“Hey, that’s not fair!” yelled Stacy.
“There’s no rules about hitting the chest in men’s boxing,” Scott stated flatly.
Now Kelly was the one who was mad. “Fine,” she said. “If that’s how you want to play it. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Whatever,” said Scott, rolling his eyes. He closed the distance between them and flashed out with his gloves.
Kelly was ready for him. She deflected Scott’s jabs, ducked, and snapped off two more lefts of her own into her husband’s eye, almost laughing at his clumsy defense. As Scott’s head reeled, she followed up with a right that slammed into the male fighter’s jaw. Scott spat out a glob of spittle, but Kelly wasn’t done. With an uppercut that came nearly from the lawn, she smashed her glove beneath Scott’s chin.
Scott shot upright, spasming. He spread his legs for balance, inadvertently exposing the plumsized organs between his legs, wrapped snuggly in his right briefs. Without any hesitation, Kelly pulled back a gloved fist and then sent it speeding forward to pummel her husband’s prominent bulge.
Thwump!
Scott immediately folded around his wife’s glove, which was buried deep in his groin, drilling his nuts mercilessly into his pelvis.
“Ohhhhhhhhhhhh,” said Stacy. Her knees came together involuntarily as she watched Kelly deliver the nut crunching blow to her husband. “That has gotta hurt.”
“You definitely aren’t allowed to do that,” Scott squeaked, his voice ratcheted up an octave. His eyes were wide and beginning to water as he looked at his wife, pleading.
“There’s no rules about hitting below the belt in female boxing,” Kelly said. “Sorry, baby, you should have kept your legs closed. Oopsies.”
She withdrew her glove and jumped back into her boxer’s stance. She needn’t have bothered. Scott’s knees snapped tightly together as he sank to the lawn, gurgling and mewling in a high pitched moan, then toppled over, clutching his battered nuts.
“One,” said Kelly, beginning her count as her husband whimpered into the grass. A warm, sensuous wetness spread between her legs as she looked down at him. “Two…three…”
It took until the seven-count for Scott to realize he was about to lose the fight, knocked out by a woman half his size. Worse, it was his wife who had put him to the floor. Worse still, it was happening in front of his attractive young neighbor.
He wouldn’t go down like this. He wasn’t going to lose a boxing match to a girl.
Scott found his feet as Kelly reached “nine.”
“Oh, wow, he got up,” said Stacy.
Scott shot her a glare. “That was a cheap shot,” Scott complained. Both girls giggled at the high register of his voice.
“Please,” scoffed Kelly. “I’d already knocked you down already and you’ve barely even hit me so far.”
“Seriously,” Stacy chimed in. “The only shot I’ve seen you land was that sneaky boob punch. Kelly’s kicking your ass, Scott.” Stacy blushed as her hand disappeared behind the fence. “It’s kinda hot.”
“I know, right?” gushed Kelly. “Let’s keep going. I want a knockout!”
“Yessssss!” agreed Stacy.
Reluctantly, Scott pulled his gloves from off of his aching balls and raised them. Kelly smiled, eager to continue thumping her husband across the lawn.
As Scott approached his confident wife, determined to land a haymaker, she feigned a hook at his side. Scott fell for it. He dipped away from Kelly’s glove only to meet his wife’s other fist which came crashing into his jaw, just as his momentum was already carrying him in that direction.
Kelly couldn’t help but smirk as she listened to Scott grunt in pain as the blow struck home. She knew she could beat him, but this was almost too easy. Somehow, however, dominating her husband so easily made her insides melt even further.
She hit him again, this time doubling Scott over with another shot to the gut. Even before the air has completely left him, Kelly followed up with an uppercut that straightened him and then ripped off a series of jabs that pushed her husband back across the lawn until the fence halted his retreat.
“Holy shit!” exclaimed Stacy, now only a few feet away from the two fighters on the other side of the fence. Her phone was now in her hand, recording the action. “She is really beating you up,” she said, zooming in on Scott’s bruised face.
Scott whimpered as he slumped against the fence. His gloves hung heavily at his side.
“I thought girls couldn’t box?” His wife teased, pushing her arms together coyly over breasts. They glistened in the sunlight.
“At least make it competitive,” said Stacy. “You’ve only hit her once. She’s dominating you.”
Scott whined, turning a pained face toward Stacy. His pretty neighbor flashed him
“Come on, baby,” said Kelly. “Put em up. You can’t be this bad boxing. You were a college champ, weren’t you?”
With sluggish effort, the male fighter groaned and threw a lazy punch at his female opponent. Kelly batted it away and then delivered yet another jab into her husband’s eye. His head bounced back violently.
“I guess that was against other boys, huh?” Kelly teased. Scott whimpered in response. She hit him again, loving the sounds he made as her glove thwapped into him.
“Tap,” bleated Scott. “Tap. Tap!”
“What?” said Kelly, momentarily halting her barrage of punches.
Stacy blurted out in laughter. “He said ‘tap’! As in, tapping out. I think he’s giving up!”
“Oh? Is that what you said, baby? Are you tapping out?” Kelly tilted her husband’s face towards her, cupping his chin in her glove.
“Yes,” he sobbed, nodding urgently. “I tap!”
Now Kelly was laughing. “Why wouldn’t you just say ‘I give up’, silly? How am I supposed to know what ‘tap’ means?”
“God, I give up, then, okay? You win. No more.”
“Yayyyyy!” cheered Stacy, shifting the camera from Scott’s defeated, deflated posture to Kelly’s confident pose before him.
“Aww, baby,” cooed Kelly. “I told you I would win.” Her legs were now soaked as she looked into her husband’s defeated eyes. She knew this would feel good, but, wow, this was something else. She was nearly trembling. “But I also told you I wanted a knockout.”
Scott whimpered. Now he was trembling.
“Please,” he pleaded.
“Oh, yes! Knock him out, Kelly!” Stacy had slipped a finger between her thighs while her other hand worked the camera. Suddenly, she had a thought. “Wait!” she cried. “Do his nuts again! I’ve always wondered if you could knock a guy out by busting his balls!”
Scott turned once again to Stacy. His expression was pitiful, scrunched up with both pain and disbelief. “Why?” he squeaked pathetically.
Stacy shrugged. “Sorry, Scott, it’s just really hot.”
Scott began to sob, turning back to his wife now. “Please, Kelly, you win. I lose. Please, don’t do my nuts again. You’re the better boxer!”
“Oh, baby,” Kelly said sweetly, “I know I am.”
And then she sent an uppercut screaming up between Scott’s legs, turning into the punch with all her strength. Her glove sped upward, a pink blur, until it stopped abruptly with a naseuous THWUMP.
Kelly closed her eyes and sighed in orgasmic release as she felt her husband’s ample bulge compress painfully against her glove and his pelvis. She had absolutely pummeled them, hitting him with her strongest, most ferocious blow yet and delivering right where she knew it hurt the most.
Stacy, meanwhile had caught the blow perfectly in frame, even while her fingers worked in a flourish between her own legs. Her moans were loud and deep and wholly satisfied.
For Scott, unfortunately, the experience wasn’t nearly as enjoyable. The pain exploded in his groin, deep and sickening. His eyes watered immediately as he folded over the blow, an earsplitting screech escaping his mouth.
“That’s a knockout,” he bleated out, voice so high that Kelly expected to hear dogs barking. Scott’s eyes then rolled back in his head and fell heavily to his knees. He was out before his face piled into the lawn, knocked out cold by his petite wife in a declarative female victory in this battle of the sexes.
“Should I count him out?” Kelly asked, voice still shaky after the intense orgasm that had gripped her as she smashed her husband’s nuts nearly to the breaking point.
“You can if you want,” answered Stacy, her own legs wobbly, “but I think it’s a formality. He is out.”
Kelly laughed. “Well, I guess you can knock a guy out if you bust his balls hard enough.”
“No argument from Scott,” Stacy said, zooming in on the male fighter’s splayed form. “Jesus, that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Kelly made no argument there, stripping out of her soaking thong.