Measuring my success in boxing came easy. I simply compared the wins to the losses. As there weren’t any losses, I was easily able to identify myself as a success.
Determining my success at sucking a man’s dick was equally as easy. It wasn’t indicated by moans, groans, or an appreciative post-blowjob comment. At least in my mind, it was measured in the amount of time it took me to get a man to reach climax. If I was somehow able to coerce a man to reach orgasm – simply by using my mouth – in a matter of a few minutes, he was undoubtedly satisfied with my performance.
If I had to suck and stroke endlessly until my jaw, hands, arms, and mouth were exhausted, something was either wrong with me – or him. Based on the available information and my willingness to fully accept it, I didn’t require praise in boxing or in my head game. Everything I needed was in front of me.
I massaged his smooth ball sack and moved my wet mouth along the shaft, studying his facial expression as I did so.
I buried him deep into my throat and gazed up and into his eyes.
He lifted his chin and tilted his head back. His entire body tensed and he began to moan. I recalled what Rachel said about not sucking him to completion, but at that moment, while caught up in the excitement of it all, I wasn’t about to stop.
I was ninety seconds into my performance and he was going to unleash.
I wanted to see it.
I needed to see it.
Something about watching a man ejaculate was exciting to me. Seeing the cum spurt from the tip of his cock made me feel like I had truly accomplished something.
And it was fucking hot.
As his cock twitched and began to swell, his moaning deepened, and I slid his cock from my throat in response.
Holding it directly in front of my mouth, I jacked my hands along the slippery shaft, pointing the tip into my waiting and willing mouth.
In two more strokes, I was well on my way to success. His chest tensed, his bicep muscles flared, and he groaned out in pleasure. Cum blasted from the tip of his cock and shot into my mouth over and over, the long thick bursts seeming to last forever.
I’d sucked enough cocks in my younger years to develop a taste for a man’s cum. It wasn’t something I would describe as tasty, but it was somehow satisfying in its own way. I found the salty and slightly bitter essence to be rather sensual. A reminder of the sensuous act that extracted it from deep within.
As his cum filled my mouth, however, my tongue tried to reject it. My stomach heaved. My nostrils flared.
And I remembered.
Asparagus.
Fuck.
Nothing on this earth made a person’s piss stink – or a man’s cum taste – worse than asparagus.
He gazed into my eyes.
I met his gaze. With my mouth agape, his cock still in my hand, and my tongue covered in his rotten cum, I tried my hardest to look content.
I fought against the putrid stench, closed my mouth, and swallowed.
My stomach fought to reject it.
I struggled to keep it down.
And I remembered Rachel’s advice.
Whatever you do, don’t swallow.
Truer words had never been spoken.
TEN
Jaz
Day twenty-nine.
Ethan stood in the middle of my living room, wearing nothing but his boxing gloves. His cock hung heavily between his legs, not completely hard, but not soft by any stretch of the imagination. “How hard?” he asked.
I glanced down at his cock and then lifted my eyes to meet his. God, he was so fucking sexy. “Hard enough I remember it,” I responded.
I lowered my hands.
He punched me in the center of the face, knocking me off-balance and almost toppling me over. Tears ran down my cheeks. Not tears from crying, but tears caused by being hit right in the middle of my nose.
I shook my head and wished I could wipe my watering eyes, but the boxing gloves I was wearing prevented it.
“Enough?” he asked.
It wasn’t. I didn’t feel the rush of sexual emotion yet. Not like I did when Kelsey caught us in the ring. Maybe I needed to hit him. “Tighten your jaw muscles.”
He narrowed his eyes and lowered his hands.
“You sure you’re ready?”
He blinked and nodded slightly.
I swung a hard right cross, landing right on the tip of his chin. He stumbled three or four steps to the rear, eventually catching his balance and shaking his head from side to side. “Holy shit,” he exclaimed. “You hit hard as fuck.”
“Good to know,” I said. “I’ve always wondered.”
I stole a glance at his cock. It was slightly harder than before. My pussy began to tingle at the thought of fighting and fucking at the same time. I pounded my gloves against my stomach. “Give me a good three or four to the body.”
I was wearing a plaid skirt, no panties, and a sports bra. Considering the size of my boobs, the sports bra was mandatory. The plaid skirt, however, was optional. A request on Ethan’s part to fulfill some ridiculous fantasy.
A commando schoolgirl boxer.
“Are you sure?”
“Hurry up,” I demanded. “I’m getting horny as fuck.”
I extended my arms to the side, giving him a free shot at my torso. He unleashed a three-punch combo to my mid-section, pulling his punches slightly. The quick series of half-power blows knocked me back about six feet and caused the breath to shoot from my lungs.
As I fought to breathe there was no doubt in my mind that my pussy was soaked. “Put ‘em up,” I howled.
His eyes widened. He raised his gloves. I stepped toward him and as soon as I was within reach, we exchanged blows for several long seconds, me hitting him with all I had, and him returning punches that were packed with about half the power he was capable of unleashing.
Thirty seconds later, and I was covered from head to toe in sweat, and my arms felt like Jell-O. I was done with the fighting, and was ready to move on to the fucking.
I lowered my tired self to my knees. “Stick…your cock…in my…mouth,” I said between breaths.
He didn’t hesitate. In three short steps, his hips were against my face and his rather flaccid cock was in my mouth. I realized, just like Rachel predicted I would be, that I was the blowjob girl. But. I was preparing to become the boxer in the plaid skirt who fucked Ethan senseless.
I wrapped my arms around his waist and pulled against his ass with my gloves, more for my benefit than his. Something about having a man’s ass in my hands while I sucked his cock made me wetter than wet. I sucked on his rapidly growing shaft until it filled my throat. Four or five good gagging fits later, and I stood up with watering eyes.
He returned a worried stare.
“Don’t worry,” I said with a grin. “I’m gonna give you the good stuff.”
I turned toward the couch and bent over. With my boobs buried in the cushion and my ass high in the air, I reached for my skirt, only to quickly remember I was wearing boxing gloves. Half a dozen unsuccessful attempts to raise my skirt over my ass later, and I surrendered the idea and glanced over my shoulder.
Completely naked with the exception of his red and white boxing gloves, Ethan stood behind me wide-eyed and rock hard.
“Just fuck me,” I demanded.
He pounded his gloves together as if preparing to begin a fight.
He lifted his bare foot and easily flipped the back of my skirt over my ass and onto the back side of my hips. His gloves squeezed my waist. With neither of us able to guide his throbbing cock into my wet and willing hole, it danced around between my legs for some time before finally landing perfectly centered between my pussy lips.
Before we got started, I needed to make sure we were on the same page, sexually speaking. “I want it rough.”
His cock still hovered in mid-air, tickling my pussy with each breath he took. He cleared his throat. “Rough?”
“Rough as fuck,” I assured him.
&nb
sp; With one hard shove, he filled me with cock and forced the air from my lungs.
I grunted like I’d been gut-punched.
Holy fuck. That’s a lot of cock.
“Are you alright?”
I raised my right glove high in the air and waved it. “I’m good,” I lied.
I felt like I was being fucked by an arm. I knew his cock was big, but I didn’t realize just how large it actually was. With it shoved balls-deep inside of me, I was quickly reminded that it had been a long time since I’d had sex. Furthermore, I had a newfound awareness that my ability to comparatively measure a cock based on memory alone wasn’t a strength I possessed.
I bit into my bottom lip and mentally prepared for the sexual beating I’d been hoping for.
Ethan didn’t disappoint.
I felt like I was losing my virginity – again – and I loved it.
Blazing a brand new path down a previously traveled road, he thrust his way deep into my memory bank. Leaving a permanent mental impression with each savage thrust, he pounded every inch of himself into me without reservation.
Jesus. Fucking. Christ.
We were just getting started, and absolutely nothing or no one prior to him mattered. Ethan had bought and paid for my pussy in the first few strokes, and with each additional thrust he was paying his rent well into the future.
Two minutes into our sexual adventure, and he owned me.
Owned. Me.
His cock now fit me like a glove. His hips slapped against my ass with precision. I no longer felt like I was being ripped apart. I was only being fucked. And fucked good. It was the kind of sex that a girl thinks about for a lifetime. The one sexual adventure that all future sex would be compared to.
Each stroke brought an entire mind full of sexual emotion, and it all seemed new to me. While I attempted to process just what it was I was feeling, he would withdraw himself, taking away all of the feelings I was trying desperately to identify. Immediately, he would shove me full once more, bringing another dose of sensual overload.
He pounded himself into me deeply. The small living room smelled like sweat, sex, and testosterone.
Whatever had happened to me in the past wasn’t sex. This? This was sex. This was what songs were written about, movies were produced in an effort to replicate, and books were written about in an attempt to explain.
“Hit me,” I bellowed.
“What?”
“Hit me.”
I wanted to talk dirty to him, explaining what I felt and what I wanted, but I couldn’t. He had fucked me into a reduced state of mental being, and I was no longer capable of reasoning. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to be vocal during our sexual encounter, I was simply incapable of using my mind for much more than my feeble attempts to identify what I was feeling.
“Where?” he asked.
It took me a minute to realize just what he was asking me. Only after clearing my mind of the blissful thoughts that filled it did I remember that I’d all but demanded that he hit me.
“Anywhere,” I responded.
He playfully tapped the side of my head with the inside of his right glove. The smell of leather filled my nostrils. It reminded me of the gym, fighting, and our little living room brawl. It was exactly what I had hoped for, but I wanted more.
“Harder. Ass. Face. I don’t care,” I growled. “Just hit me. Hit me and fuck me.”
He continued to fuck me rhythmically, his hands lightly bouncing off the sides of my face and the back of my ass while he did so.
I was about to reach climax.
“Harder,” I grunted.
His gloves began to rain down on me, one after the other, while he continued to fuck me. His balls banged against my pussy. His hands banged against the side of my face. And, his cock banged against spots inside of me I was unaware even existed.
My mind escaped me and my legs began to shake.
I arched my back and cried out. “Holy fuuuuuck!”
I felt his cock swell, and he did the same.
“Aaaarrrghhh,” he growled.
The orgasm worked its way from my toes to my temples. Simultaneously, a tingling from deep inside my pussy seemed to burst well within me, leaving me in an almost confused state of being. I buried my face into the couch cushion and screamed. It was an orgasm unlike anything I had felt in the past, and I was certain – at least at that moment – that I would never live to feel another like it again.
A few seconds into my sexual release, and I realized he wasn’t done fucking me. Still groaning into the now silent room, his cock burst inside of me, causing me to reach climax again, in a different fashion altogether.
He held his cock in place and continued to groan. My body shook and shuddered, exhausted from the fighting, the sex, and the two-hour workout that led to it all.
My upper body collapsed onto the couch. He flopped down beside me. I felt his cum run down my inner thigh.
I didn’t care.
We turned our heads to face one another.
“That was fucking hot,” he said.
“Uh huh,” I murmured. “Your cock. It’s--”
“Too big?”
I was going to say huge.
“No,” I said. “It’s perfect.”
“Good, because there for a while I was afraid it wasn’t going to fit in your tight little pussy.”
You’re not the only one.
“You like it?”
He blinked his eyes and sighed. “Yeah.”
“Good,” I said. “Because now it’s ruined.”
He blinked and stared. “What do you mean?”
Believe me, you’d never understand.
“Nothing,” I lied. “I think I’m delirious.”
And that, at least, was true.
SEVENTEEN
Jaz
Day fifty.
“You don’t think he was kidding, do you?” Ethan asked.
I really didn’t care. Kidding or not, head stepping was a great fucking idea, and I was disappointed that I hadn’t thought of it before Ripp told us about it. “No. I’m sure he was being truthful, why?”
“I uhhm. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Hurt me?” I narrowed my eyes and stared back at him as I unbuttoned my jeans. “I’ll let you know if I’m in more pain than I can handle.”
“You sure?”
I coughed out a laugh as I pushed my jeans down my thighs. “Yeah.”
The intensity of my pussy’s desire to have Ethan step on my head and fuck me diminished somewhat on the drive back to my apartment. It wasn’t that I no longer wanted it – because I really did – but my once soaking wet pussy didn’t seem to share what was left of my mind’s sexual interest.
He pushed down his sweats and sighed. “Okay.”
“I’m gonna need you to talk dirty to me for a minute,” I said. ‘Before we get started.”
Kissing and sweet talk never really did much for me, but a good dirty talker could take me from nothing to nympho in seconds.
“How dirty?”
Dirty talk was something we hadn’t discussed, but our first – and only – sexual encounter was kind of an unplanned combination of boxing and fucking that just happened. There really wasn’t the time – or need – for him to talk dirty to me.
Now it was a different story. Being talked dirty to during sex wasn’t something that I necessarily required, but it sure seemed to help matters along.
Being a woman was difficult work. Trying to make sense of my pre-period emotions, my mind’s need to have a man be rough with me during sex, and my constant – and often insatiable – desire to have sex, was close to impossible. In the end, I rarely understood my sexual self, I simply chose to embrace my odd yearnings as being part of who I was.
“Dirty as fuck.” I pulled my tee shirt over my head and reached for the clasp of my bra. “Smash your mouth against my ear and tell me how you’re going to step on my head and stuff me full of cock. And anything else you want to say, ju
st make it dirty. You can come up with something, can’t you?”
Standing in front of me completely naked, he shrugged “Yeah,” he said in a somewhat derisive tone.
He wasn’t very convincing, but then again, he wasn’t much of a talker – and he was much less of a braggart.
“Well, get to it.” I chuckled and tossed my bra on the floor. “I’m ready.”
In a few quick steps, he was at my side with his hand on my neck, gripping it firmly. He positioned himself behind me, pulled me into his chest, and breathed against my ear. “I’m going to shove you so full of cock that you’re going to remember it each time you sit down for the next week.”
Fuck yes, that’s it.
His mouth moved down my neck, dragging his teeth along my skin until he came to a stop right above my shoulder. He then bit into my flesh, sending shivers down my spine as he did so.
Holy. Shit.
He pressed his lips to my ear. “You want me to give you a little bit of my thick cock?”
I was soaked. I regretted ever doubting his ability to talk dirty to me. I mumbled my response, but it still didn’t come easy. “Uh huh,” I murmured.
“Too bad,” he breathed into my ear. “Because I’m not giving you a little bit, I’m gonna give you all of it.”
Dear God.
He’d done it. I was past primed, and stood on shaking legs. With his chest pressed against my back and his hand still firm on my neck, he pushed me toward the loveseat. As my legs came into contact with the front edge of the cushion, he forced my head down, causing me to bend at the waist.
I eagerly bent over, exposing myself fully to him and his wishes. His foot kicked against the inside of my feet, reminding me to spread my legs a little further, allowing his massive cock entry into my willing wetness.
I felt the tip press against my sensitive lips. As he slowly began to penetrate me, I inhaled a choppy breath. Then, he pushed himself deep, causing me to exhale sharply at the feeling of being filled completely with is girth.