The Boxer's Wife

"I just dropped the little one off at the nursery." Amanda sat in her parked car, speaking into the receiver of her phone. She had a round face, brunette hair with dull blonde streaks. "Gonna try and get a workout in."

"Okay, hun," the voice said. "I'll be home later. We're tweaking some things in my defense."

Amanda didn't respond. She just held the phone to her ear, staring off into the empty parking lot.

"Hello?"

"I'm here," Amanda sighed.

"What happened to my number one supporter, huh?"

"Jim, I still support you," Amanda said. "But, you have to realize when it's over. You're out of your prime. Your injuries are mounting up. You—"

"I know. And, that's why this is my last one. One final paycheck."

Amanda folded her arms, lowered her vacant gaze to the dashboard.

"Honey..."

"Yes?"

"I know you're still shook up about what happened in the first bou—"

"Shook up? Of course I'm scared." Amanda perked up in her seat. "I watched you get knocked unconscious. This guy is younger, faster—"

"They're yelling at me, sweetheart. Gotta run," Jim said. "We'll talk about it later. Okay?"

"Fine..." Amanda hung up the phone, sat for a moment in a thoughtful silence. Her eyes drifted up to the billboard splayed atop the business: Wilson's Boxing Academy. Home of the Heavyweight Champion of the World, ‘Nasty' Nate Nelson.

***

‘Nasty' Nate took center ring, dancing in the dark. The only light came through the acrylic doors. He stayed swift on his toes, shadowboxing. He was trim, fit. Unlike most heavyweights, he had the muscle definition of a lightweight. He jabbed, followed with a right cross. He circled out from against the ropes, ducked, and came back up with a leaping left hook. He could see the fight unfold in his mind.

The front door squeaked open. A familiar face walked in. She wore a tank top, leggings, which exposed her apple frame. Her wide hips swung from side to side with her strut.

Nate stopped, smiled. "You lost... Amanda, is it?"

Amanda stepped to the corner of the ring, looking up through the ropes. "I need to talk to you."

"Apparently. What brings ‘Gentleman' Jim's wife here?"

"Ummm..." Amanda's train of thought slid, distracted by Nate's shredded abs. She shook the lewd images from her mind. "It's about this rematch."

"Still having nightmares of the last fight, I see?"

"Fuck you!"

Nate reenacted the scene in the empty ring. He bobbed, weaved, near the ropes. He put two jabs out there, feinted, ducked, and came over top with a straight right. He jumped back with his hands in the air, celebrating the victory. "That was a nasty knockout. Him hanging in the ropes like that, wiggling like a fish out of water. Must've been—"

"You don't have to be a fuckin' dick."

"Me?" Nate appeared taken aback. "After all that shit you talked in the pre-fight build up, like fuckin'—what's that dad's name? His son is in the NBA—Lavar Ball. Talking all that shit for your husband like Lavar Ball, Conor McGr—"

"I believe in my husband. What's wrong with believing in someone?"

"Nothing. But, you went out of your way to discredit me," Nate shot back. "‘Young and inexperienced, won't last four rounds, got no heart, spends more time with hookers than training.' Yeah. I heard all that shit."

Amanda didn't reply.

"Your words have more bite than your husband's punches." Nate leaned in on the ropes, looking down at her. "Maybe I should've fought you instead."

"Seems like I touched a nerve."

"You might have. But it didn't work." Nate wiped his face with the towel. "What are you here for?"

"I wanted to work out a deal."

"Well, step into my office." Nate exited the ring. He escorted her through the back, into the locker room. "I'm listening."

"Well, you see," Amanda hung her head, "Jim is not in his prime anymore. That's the only reason you beat him."

"Not a good start if you're trying to make a deal." Nate opened his steel locker, removed a towel. "I hurt him. You know I hurt him bad. Your ole man is lucky to get a young dime like yourself. But, he ain't lucky enough to beat me."

"I know," Amanda said in a defeated whisper.

"What's that?" Nate leaned his ear closer. "I didn't quite catch it."

Amanda raised her head, her glare sharpening on the cocky champion. Through clenched teeth, she growled, "I know!"

"So, what are you suggesting?" Nate kicked one foot on the bench, untied his boxing shoe. "I'm not losing."

"No. No. Just, ya know, take it easy on him."

Without any shame, Nate pulled down his gym shorts. His thick, limp cock hung down his leg. "You're saying I should carry him to a decision?"

Amanda blushed, turned away. "Ummm..."

"And, what do I get in return?" Nate headed to the showers.

"A, uh, clear conscious." Amanda followed him. She had her hands over her eyes like a visor. Yet, she couldn't help but to look under, sneaking a peek at his muscular backside. "You can sleep easy at night knowing you didn't severely cripple a man."

"Yeah..." Nate sarcastically pondered; hand on chin and eyes to the ceiling. "Uhh! No."

Amanda lowered her brow, pursed her lips together. "I can pay you."

"I'm getting paid for the fight." Nate turned the shower head on. It didn't take long for the hot water to steam. "And I doubt you can come close to that number."

Amanda fumed. She looked away with a scowl, tapped her foot angrily.

"Sorry. No deal." Nate squeezed the Old Spice body wash into his palm, cleaned himself of the day's worth of workouts.

"What is it you wan—" Amanda stopped herself. She gawked at his Greek God physique, covered in soapy suds. "I'll give you whatever."

Nate spun around on the slippery tiles. The soap ran down his face, so he peeked through one eye. "Whatever?"

Amanda turned her gaze to the floor, nodded.

"Well, looks like my workout is not done after all." Nate turned the shower off, steam rose from his shoulders. He dried himself with a towel, tied it around his waist. "When I said, ‘Jim was lucky to get you' it was intended more as a compliment to you than a dig at him."

Amanda rolled her eyes. "What is it you want?"

"I want you." Nate's fingers grazed over her wide hips. "You're thick in all the places I like."

Amanda sneered. She held up her wedding ring.

"No, no. I just want you for a day." Nate waved for her to follow him. He walked back out of the locker room, into the main gym. He climbed the steel steps of the ring. He sat on the middle rope and pushed the top one up, making an entrance for her. "Come join me."

Amanda sighed. She set her purse down, followed him up the steps, and ducked into the ring.

Nate trailed her to the center, circled her like a vulture. "It'll be good for you. I'll help you relieve all that built-up pressure."

"Pressure?"

"I'm no doctor," Nate said, "but if I had to guess—"

"Nobody's asking you."

"I'd say it was," Nate continued right along, "years of bad sex."

"My sex life is—" Amanda hesitated. "It's not bad."

Nate stopped in front of her. He undid her loose bun. Her hair fell upon her shoulders. He grazed his fingers along her jaw, tucked the loose strands behind her ear. "Why else would you be so angry all the time?"

"I'm not angry all the time."

"Pfffttt!"

"For one, I have a young child that keeps me up all hours of the night," Amanda said. "I'm constantly cooking special meals so Jim can make weight—"

"Yeah. I'm sure you have a hard," Nate squeezed her hips, pulled her into his thrust, "life living in that mansion."

Amanda released a sigh. She could feel his semi-hard cock underneath his towel. It pressed against her thigh. Her thin legging's left nothing to the imagination. She locked eyes with him, naughtily bit her lip. She pushed back against his cock.

Nate's lips trailed down her neck. He gripped the bottom of her tank-top.

Amanda grabbed his hands, stopped him. "Right here?"

Nate went back to kissing her neck. "Nobody will be here until tomorrow."

Amanda swept the room with her eyes. It was quiet, dark. The boxing bags hung still from the ceiling. She grabbed the bottom hem of her tank-top and pulled it over her head. Nate reached around her, unlatched her bra. She had a small bust: round, perky breasts with big pink nipples.

While kneeling, Nate kissed down her shoulder, sucked her nipples, and slid his fingers underneath the elastic band of her leggings.

Amanda's face became rosy as the breeze tickled her bare ass. She had thin shoulders, wide hips, plump backside, and small ankles. Her pussy was trimmed, her curtains slightly exposed like a flower bud.

Nate removed her leggings, untied her shoes. He arose, and once again, began kissing her neck.

Amanda closed her eyes, her nipples stiffened. Her body warmed to things it shouldn't have, like being naked—in nothing but ankle socks—at the rival's gym. Nate's large cock poked from underneath his towel, brushing against Amanda's pussy. She took it in her small hand, and as his lips trailed down her shoulder, she stroked it on the outside of his towel.

Nate placed his hands on her shoulder, gently guided her down.

Amanda didn't hesitate. She knelt before him, her eyes locked onto his huge bulge. She undid the towel. His cock shot out, vibrating like a diving board. Amanda inhaled a big breath, eyes widened. Not only was Nate more physically gifted than her husband, but much more endowed below the belt as well. She had never seen Nate's equal. Her palms perspired, along with her feet. She removed her socks, sat back on her heels, and slowly palmed his cock. She felt the thundering pulse of his heartbeat as it strengthened in her hand.

"Not used to seeing champion hardware, are you?" Nate smirked. He cupped the back of her head, pulled her closer.

Amanda glared up at him. She didn't like that comment but continued forward nonetheless. Her frown softened, however, as she zeroed back in on his huge cock. She closed her eyes, sucked him off. She bobbed on his tip, her lips trailed down the underbelly. Her knees dug into the soft mat. She went halfway down his rod, gagged, before coming back up again. She erected her posture, jerked him off. The top of her feet flat against the ring, her soles wrinkled behind her. She took him in her mouth, raucously bobbing, while working the base of his cock with her hand. Drool spilled down her breasts, over her pink hard nipples.

Nate wadded her hair in his fist, yanked her head back. He patted her cheek with his bone-stiff erection.

Amanda snarled, brows slanted inward in anger.

"Open your mouth," Nate said.

Amanda's scowl tightened, but she did as told. She opened her mouth, stuck out her tongue.

Nate thrust his hips forward, sliding his cock in and out. He poked her cheek, tickled her tonsils.

Amanda made gagging sounds. She finally sat back on her heels, wiped her mouth.

Nate crouched, laid Amanda to her back across the boxing ring. He cradled the nape of her neck, took her nipples in his mouth, all whilst massaging the top of her clit.

Amanda drew in a rapid breath. Her heart rate quickened. Her breasts became fuller. She wiggled the tingle from her toes. Her knees knocked together, trapping his hand between her warm thighs. She grew sensitive. Her pussy swelled. She closed her eyes, hips writhing.

Nate peeled her legs apart, climbed between. He slowly slipped the tip in before withdrawing it.

Amanda's eyes shot open. She looked down as his cock parted her again, entering her to the hilt. She tensed. Her heels remained on the mat, but her toes lifted, spread. He eased in and out of her, lubricating his cock with her wetness. She loosened her body, the huge cock started to feel good. She started to relax. A tickling warmth flooded over her body. Her breasts bounced in rhythm with his thrusts. Her face flushed a deep red, all way down to the top of her pale breasts.

Nate leaned forward, licking her taut, pink nipples. He drove her into the soft mat, their flesh smacking together.

Amanda splayed a hand over her flustered face. She bit her knuckles, panted. She was stimulated, in a trance, concentrating only on the growing sensation. Her mind grew distant. A spark of pleasure started in her center and ran down her legs. She raised her feet slightly off the ground, balled her toes. "O—" The moan spilled out before she could catch herself. She shivered, rolled her eyes. The spark of energy reappeared; this time it settled, building with each plunge. Her body quaked. "Nuh!" she moaned softly. She inhaled a rattling breath. "Aye!"

"Yeah. That's right, girl." Nate leered upon her fragile state. "You ain't never been fucked by a real champ."

Amanda tried to shoot him a fiery glare, but the intense feeling thwarted her attempt. Her blue eyes glistened. Her face strained. She crinkled her eyebrows, dropped her jaw.

"You like that dick," Nate teased. "Tell me how much you like that dick."

Amanda puckered her lips in a ‘Get Real' expression. She couldn't hold that face for long though. She fought the urge to cry out and turned from him, softly groaning.

"You can't hide it, momma." Nate was constant with his pressure, driving her hard into the mat.

Amanda looked to reply. Her lips moved but no words came out. She glanced up to him for a split second before dropping her head back and releasing a breathy grunt. Her nipples were steely erect.

"That's it, baby. Push that pressure out."

"Mmmmm!" Amanda bowed her back. She blinked rapidly as her dam collapsed. She flooded all over Nate's cock. "Mmm-gggghhh!—Uh!"

Nate smirked down upon her. His strong hips hammered the rival wife away with power.

Amanda lifted her feet off the ground—toes touched with a French pedi—and put them against his chest. She paused. She knew what she wanted to do—take control of the position. Yet, the tingling sensation crippled her actions, locked her muscles. She couldn't do anything but experience the orgasm as it swept over her for the second time. As she climaxed, her legs uncontrollably shot out, pushing Nate off. She lay to her side, winded.

"This is good for you." Nate sat back on his elbows, stroking his glistening cock. "All that tension will be—"

Amanda furrowed her brows at him, clenched her jaw in an angered arousal. She jumped on top of him and roughly shoved his shoulders to the mat. Her pussy pinned his cock against his stomach. Her heart-shaped ass dimpled as she rolled her hips against the underbelly of his cock. She looked down on him, almost staring through him. She gradually picked up the pace, panted. She found herself locked in the moment, enjoying every bit. She did the unthinkable and kissed him. The sex was primal, the kiss affectionate—a ‘Thank You' for bringing her bliss. Her hips slid all the way up his length, and as she pulled back, it slipped inside of her soaked pussy. She broke the kiss and arched her back, moaning toward the ceiling.

Nate reached around and tugged on her hair, jerking her head back further. He took her stiff nipples in his mouth. "Who's girl are ya?"

Amanda's eyes shot open. She heightened her brows. She tried to send him a fiery glare in response, but with his hand tugging her hair back, all she could do was stare at the ceiling. She pushed off her toes, riding up and down his length. Once Nate released her hair, Amanda collapsed on top of him. Her breasts smooshed against his chiseled chest, her legs sprawled out. She kissed his neck while gyrating on top of him. Nate smacked her plump backside with both hands. She growled, nibbled on his earlobe. He palmed her ass and squeezed. She breathed heatedly in his ear.

"Come on, momma. Let's get it," Nate said.

Amanda perched up. She pressed her hands firmly against his ripped chest, tossed her hips back and forth. She sprung off her knees, bounced and twerked. A chill ran up her spine, and she hugged herself close. Her breasts bounced in her arms. ‘Ah-ha! Aye!" She slouched, face twisted in enjoyment. "Fu-fu-fu-uckkkk!"

Nate arose and wrapped his arms around her shivering body. He planted small kisses on her cheek before locking lips with her again. After a moment, in which Amanda gathered her faculties, Nate rolled her over. "Turn around for me, momma."

"Backwards?" Amanda asked breathlessly. She was hesitant. She didn't like the position. It felt impersonal. But, this wasn't her husband. This was, in fact, impersonal. She climbed to her hands and knees, leered over her shoulder at him.

Nate held his cock in place and squeezed inside of her warm, wet pussy.

"Oh..." Amanda lurched. Her ass rippled, breasts jiggled.

Nate maneuvered in and out, gentle and slow. He squeezed her ass. Her meaty backside filled the spaces of his fingers. He spread her cheeks, his thumb grazed over her backdoor.

"Uh!" Amanda glanced over her shoulder, fearfully aroused. Her hips uncontrollably twitched out of rhythm with his. The pleasure building inside caused her to become herky-jerky.

Nate gripped her hips, took control of the motion. He roughly pulled her back into each pound. The claps of skin echoed in the empty gym.

Amanda hung her head, stared through the mat. Her thoughts scattered. All she could concentrate on was the intense pressure. Her body rocked violently. She clawed at the canvas. "Aye-aye-aye!"

Nate shook every core of her body with each heavy thrust. He held her ankles off the mat.

Amanda curled her toes. She balanced only on her knees. Each thrust sent her lower and lower to the canvas, until her cheek rested against the mat. Her breasts shook back and forth, hard nipples brushed the canvas. She squinched her face, lips parted. "I-ch-ch-ch-uggghhh!"

Nate wadded her hair in his fist, pulled her back up. He held her against his chest, her head lying back on his shoulder. Her pussy swallowed his cock. He palmed her breast while his other hand massaged her clit. "Tell me, now, how much you like that dick."

Amanda absently stared through the dark ceiling. Her body tingled intensely, bringing tears to her eyes. She felt as though she were seconds away from imploding. Her face contorted. She cried out, "I—Ah-ah-ah!—likethatdick! I-like-that-dick!"

"You love it."

Amanda collapsed back to her hands. She slumped forward. "I do-ooo-ooo-ooo!"

Nate pulled out, dick in hand.

Amanda crashed face-first to the canvas as Nate came on her ass. She blinked the black dots from her sight, caught her heavy breaths. She was left sweaty, enervated, knocked out on the mat like her husband, ‘Gentlemen' Jim.

"Wow, momma," Nate said between laborious breaths. "You got yourself a deal."

***

Amanda sat in her car, silent. She thought about what just happened. She wanted to feel bad, regretful. She should. But, she couldn't help but to feel relieved. She hated to admit it, but that was the best sex she'd ever had. She sighed.

Her phone beeped.

Amanda snapped out of her daze. She extracted her phone, noticed a text from her husband. It read:

(Training didn't go so well. Slipped a disc in my back. At the hospital now. It sux. You were right. My body is falling apart on me. This is a young man's game. I know you'll be happy to hear that the fight has been called off. I'm retiring.)

The phone slipped through Amanda's loose grasp. She sat in shock, staring at the empty parking lot and up to the billboard: Wilson's Boxing Academy. Home of the Heavyweight Champion of the World, ‘Nasty' Nate Nelson.