Mandy




Mandy follows in Julie's footsteps, both in love and in the ring, by Mandy 30
Nov 2012

I started boxing when I was about 14 or 15. It must have been about then as I
remember feeling self conscious in the gym's communal shower after we finished
training. Had I powdered enough under my arms to hide the dark shadow? Were my
much larger than normal nipples and my thick growth of black pubic hair, from
which a few hairs extended down over my thighs and up to my navel, normal?
There was no need to worry. I soon saw that nipples, boobs and bushes came in
all shapes and sizes and colours.

It was my mother, Susan, who first encouraged me to box. She had been a top
rate fighter in her youth and had once been the resident toughie in a local
fair booth. Anyone lasting 3 rounds with her won $50, a lot of money in those
days. All went well until one day, having already disposed of 6 hopefuls, she
was challenged by a flat chested but muscular physical training instructor. Oh
dear! She was put down (and out) in round 1 but saved by the owner sounding
the bell early to give her another chance. Not that it did any good. Within
seconds of the restart she was on her back again, counted out, and given the
sack.

Now, at 42 and without fighting for over 10 years, she recently agreed to a
topless fight against a local girl called Monique to raise money for flood
victims. Monique, was about 30. She had no boxing experience but was very fit
from playing volleyball in the local league. Susan, on the other hand, was out
of condition and overweight with large pendulous flabby boobs. It was no
surprise therefore when, after dominating the fight for 3 rounds and almost
ko'ing Monique more than once, Susan ran out of steam. A wild swing from
Monique caught her on the chin in the 5th and the next thing she knew was
seeing the ceiling lights and hearing 8, 9, 10, OUT.

Boxing wasn't my only interest at that time. I lost my virginity when I was 17
in a cheap motel. I don't remember what I expected but whatever it was it left
me completely unfazed. I enjoyed a mild tremor of pleasure as I felt something
warm land inside me but that was all and I didn't want to repeat the
experience. So when I went out on dates I would let boys fondle my breasts,
caress my nipples, and sometimes put their hand inside my panties to lightly
touch the Gates of Paradise, but that was all. Not that I was a tease. I knew
boys needed an outlet for the spunk that was continually accumulating in their
loins so I was always ready to wank them off with my hand . However after one
guy shot his load all over the place and ruined my new fishnets I always
insisted on a hanky or condom to catch it.

One boy told me how he loved me and regularly had wet dreams about me. Maybe
he did but there was still plenty left over when I next jerked him off.

But I digress. Back to boxing. I won my first two fights but was ko'd in the
third, for which my mother was referee, when I was matched against a far more
experienced lady. I thought I was doing ok for 3 rounds but then a punch from
nowhere put me on my butt. I started to get up using the ropes but my legs
gave way and I collapsed on to my back. I was conscious enough to hear the
count but, with fuzzy eyes and legs of lead, unable to do anything about it
and was duly counted out.

I gradually built up a record of 6 wins (2 by ko) against 4 losses (2 by ko).
My second ko loss was against Vanessa, the club champion until Julie knocked
her out. I was really out of my class with Vanessa and virtually out on my
feet at the end of the 4th having already survived two long counts. I was
still groggy at the start of the 5th and one punch was sufficient to dump me
on my butt where I remained, seeing nothing but circling lights, long after
the count reached 10.

And now to Julie. I had seen quite a lot of Julie around the gym and we became
good friends. She had a hammer-like right hand which could put most people to
sleep if she was able to land it but unfortunately she also had a glass jaw.
This became apparent one day when, during routine sparring, she was suddenly
laid out on the deck. Nobody took much notice until we realised she couldn't
get up and was out cold.

My fight with Julie was almost a disaster (see 'the downfall of Julie the ko
queen' 5 Nov 2012). I was saved by the bell at the end of the 1st round and
was sure I was going to be knocked out again. However as Julie came out for
round 2 she stupidly raised her arms to wave to her boyfriend and I was able
to hit her in the solar plexus with all the force I could muster. She went
down flat on her back, spread-eagled, her gloves resting on her boobs, moaning
loudly.

A couple of years later I was supporting Julie when she fought the German
beauty, Heidi. She was down several times in the first 3 round and ko'd in the
4th, one again moaning as she lay on the canvas. As I worked to revive her I
could see that she was wet between her legs. Her nipples were rock hard and
she had a strange far away contorted look on her face as she kept moving my
hands over her boobs as if to stimulate them. I now know of course, having
lived with her for some time, that she has a knockout fetish. She is actually
turned on by being ko'd and had allowed Heidi to 'play' with her boobs in the
clinches so that when she was being counted out it was all she could do to
contain the electricity surging through her loins with low moans so intense
was the orgasm that possessed her (see 'Julie's arousal in the ring' 7 Nov
2012).

Not long after this Julie and I became firm friends and I would often visit
her in her home to spar (see 'Julie discovers her true orientation' 9 Nov
2012). I soon saw that Julie wanted me to ko her because it gave her an
orgasm. And sometimes as I counted her out, seeing those huge hairy nipples
rising and falling with each breath (we often sparred topless) I began to feel
stirrings myself. Julie not only had hair under her arms (she didn't believe
in shaving) but also sprouting from her nipples the sight of which really
switched me on, making me wonder what she would be like down below. Was this
why I had never been keen on making love with boys?

The point of no return came when Julie joined me in the shower one day. I
should have got out and left her to it. Instead we were soon pressed together
boob to boob, pussy to pussy, and the inevitable happened as our fingers
explored each other's secret places. Julie is lucky. She can be brought to
orgasm easily either by being ko'd or simply by my stroking her nipples-not to
speak of rubbing her clit. I take longer to be roused but later that day, on
the bed, Julie gave me my awakening. As she fondled my boobs with one hand,
and entered my Cave of Joy with the other, I was gradually transported to a
state of ecstasy. Though clinically conscious I was at the same time not
conscious. Rational thought gave way to sensation as an all consuming warmth
and tingling filled my loins, shutting everything else out and sparking loud
cries of delight.

I knew then that my future life was with Julie but I wanted to be sure. So I
spent a night with Harry, one of my old flames. He had a really good time and
he did his best for me too. He was able to hold himself in check for nearly
half an hour, stopping just before the point of no return. But then with
shrieks of Oh......oh....Mandy....oh,..oh... Mandy... the dam burst. It was
pleasant enough to feel his hot juices land inside me but whereas this was
'pleasant' what Julie gives me is indescribable. . It was no contest. Julie
had won another bout.