Boxer Girl

The whole time it was obvious she was in a hurry. We met for happy hour, downtown L.A., upscale hotel bar. Mystery woman, alright. I met her coming off an elevator. Rammed her full speed but, strange, she stood in place, planted like a giant oak. Force of impact knocked me right on my ass. Heard lotsa people laugh when I went down.
-(Wimp, chump, idiot, pussy, Nancy-Boy.) Heard shit like that, or, pretty sure I did. Goddamn, she was beautiful, though, and she stood over me.
-I’m sorry. Let me help you up.
Big girl. Damn. Tall, but solid too. Thick, shapely legs, high heels, short skirt, sumptuous chubby arms bare in sleeveless top. Something in her eyes, I remember now, something not quite right. Sorta demonic quality, maybe. Unusual way they glowed or something. Paid no attention to it under the circumstances. Definitely a little embarrassed, slamming into a woman-she didn’t budge-and getting knocked on my pansy ass.

So then we talked for a minute. Stayed right there in that lobby and she was OK small-talking and I was down with it too. Seemed like she was taking an interest in me. So she suggested it. It was her idea.
-Why don’t we have a drink or a bite to eat? I’m starved. -Sure! But I’ve got an appointment here I really have to make. I don’t think it’ll take long. There’s a really nice bar in the hotel across the street.
I looked at my watch.
-In fact, they’ll have happy hour going at four. They have great appetizers. I can meet you there.
-Right across the street?
-Right across the street. First floor. The bar’s right there.
-Take my cell number. In case you get held up.
Beautiful Clydesdale of a woman, flattens me, then gives me her cell number. Who’d ‘ve thought?

The bar was great. Really nice, elegant atmosphere. Moroccan buffet tonight. Girl could really put it away. Mechoui, Pastilla, kebobs of calf liver and lamb, couscous; ate like she’d never seen food before. And Stoli martinis, extra dry, super-chilled…with olives. Slammed ‘em down like fresh spring water. The whole thing was such a kick. But, like I said, she was definitely pushing, time-wise. Seemed up-tight in a way, and yet it was obvious she was enjoying herself. Her name was Connie.
-So, Connie, what are you doing later? I asked.
-Hmm? Oh, uhmmm, well, I assumed we were going to my place.
-You did?
-Mmm-hmm. Don’t you want to?
-Sure, yeah. That would be great. Just seems like maybe you’re in a hurry. I didn’t want to hold you up.
-No. I’m fine. I’m all yours.
Jeezus. What did she mean by that? Well…

We were pretty hammered by the time we left and I asked her how far of a drive it was.
-No drive, she said, I’m right over there.
She pointed to a hi-rise three buildings down.
-Wow, I said. A real city dweller.
-Mmm-hmm. It’s the only way to go. Work downtown, train downtown, live downtown. Keeps life simple.
-Train?
-Mmm-hmm. I’m learning to box.
-Cool!
-Yeah. I like it. C’mon. This way.
We weaved our way down the sidewalk to her building, laughing hysterically, having a great time. I couldn’t help my continual staring, though. She was so seriously, unbelievably hot. How did this all happen? What the hell was I doing here? Gorgeous woman, getting drunk, going back to her apartment? Ours is not to question…

As we entered the building, it all seemed like your standard issue office complex; very professional-looking with the obligatory modern art sculptures around the lobby. Cool ones, though. Felt like money. Rode the elevator up to where Connie lived on the 33rd floor. Her apartment was beautiful; spacious and tastefully furnished. A picture window formed the majority of the outer wall and the view of the city was fabulous from there.
-I had no idea there were such nice apartments here, I said.
-Oh yes. There’s been so much great development down here. I wouldn’t want to live anywhere else now.
I looked around the lovely living room and noticed that Connie did have quite a few photographs of different boxers on the walls, and a large painting of Ali in his prime loomed imposingly above the faux fireplace.
-You really are serious about boxing, I said. That’s a great painting.
-Thanks, she said. Are you sticking with martinis?
-Sounds good.
Her Stoli martini was the best I had ever tasted. Dry as a bone and chilled to the marrow. Left me sipping it as she went off to change.

To say I was stunned when she returned doesn’t even begin to say it. She emerged from the hallway wearing a skimpy black bikini, matching black patent leather high heels and a pair of shiny new boxing gloves. She was also holding another pair, obviously designated for me.
-Here, she said, tossing them to me. These oughta fit you.
I was speechless. My god, her legs! So long and so big. So chunky and shapely. Her flesh was sublime. Her huge, gorgeous breasts threatened to burst the bonds of her tiny bikini top and her ass was so juicy and round it seemed to defy the very principles of anatomy.
-C’mon, put ‘em on, she said. I’ll show you what I’ve been learning.
Sounded innocent enough, but at the moment I was having a hard time even processing her words as I sat there bedazzled by her awesome beauty and power. She stooped over the coffee table and somehow managed to lift her martini clumsily to her lips in spite of the gloves, slamming it down in one gulp.
-Ahhh, that’s the ticket, she said. Nothing like a martini to bring out the beast in a girl.
I stood up and put my gloves on, thinking this was going to be the most fun I’d had since playing in mud puddles back in kindergarten. I moved around into the middle of the living room where Connie was already shadow boxing, her marvelous flesh bouncing gently and so enticingly before me. Who could concentrate on boxing, for god’s sake? Between the booze and my excitement from looking at her, I didn’t even know if I could keep from mauling her right here on the living room floor.

That notion was dispelled rather quickly.
-Let’s see what you got, she said, bouncing up and down and punching her gloves together.
Before I could say ‘OK’ a hard left jab nailed me flush in the middle of my face. It was no love tap. It was the real thing.
-Ow! I yelled. Shit, Connie, what the–?
This time a big right hand. Pop!! Caught me on the temple and knocked me back toward the window.
-Better protect yourself, she warned. Remember ‘Million dollar Baby.’
It all happened so fast, before I could even protest. Another hard, straight jab, stronger than the last one, and I was seeing stars. Another one, right on the heels of the last one snapped my head back, hurting my eye and causing me to cry out again. As I lifted my hands to try and protect my face, she had her opening and slammed a hard right into my solar plexus. It knocked the wind out of me and I doubled over onto the floor. From there, I was staring at her marvelous feet in those high heels and hearing her voice badgering me.
-Get up, she said. At least give me a workout, ya fuckin’wimp!
I struggled to catch my breath and had to clutch onto her leg to have any chance of pulling myself up. As my face reached her glorious thighs I whimpered ‘Omigod,’ or some such exclamation. The perfumed scent of her crotch area and those incomprehensible legs acted as smelling salts upon me, helping me to rise tentatively to my feet. I saw her smiling at me, evil and utterly mad, like some sort of demoness. Then came a wicked combination: another jack-hammer left jab split my lip open and broke my nose. Hurt like a bitch. With each punch, I became insatiably aroused at the sight of her big, beautiful, powerful arms working their destruction upon me; so sexy and devastating. I longed to seize one of them and devour the luscious, divine flesh from which they were sculpted. That thought was bludgeoned out of me by a follow-up right to the middle of my chest, which stunned me badly. Felt like it made my heart stop. Began to panic. Processing that, and a monster left hook nearly decapitated me, causing my eye to swell shut almost immediately and opening a massive gash over the eyebrow that sent blood spurting across the room.

I went down like a bag of dirt from that and lay on the floor groaning in pain. She hovered over me immediately, laughing like some beautiful vulture inspecting her carrion .
-Up! she commanded.
No way. My head was spinning ’til I was sure I would throw up. Far too racked with pain to even consider making it to my feet. Connie bent down over me and grasping my head between her gloved hands, pulled me up.
-You know, you really need to learn how to defend yourself, she giggled.
Holding me flimsily in place with her left, she reared back and cold-cocked me with a brutal right to the face. That one pretty much flattened my nose, split my other eyelid open, and put another canal-like crack in my lip. It had now become a grotesque, bloody scene. Red splattered everywhere as I went reeling across the room, flipping head over heels before coming to rest flat on my stomach.
-I told you to get up and fight! she laughed. Now let’s go. Get up!

I was in a bad way at this point. Could hardly moan, let alone move, let alone get up. With each rapid heartbeat, blood pumped out of me from the lacerations around my eyes, from my demolished nose, and from huge cuts on my lips. She picked me up again, and my pulp-like face passed directly before her powerful thighs, which drove me to the brink of sexual madness despite the agony I was in. She held me in place there and stamped her legs down alternately, making me watch the delightful rippling of her leg-flesh as she did it. Began then to writhe like an epileptic, which amused her immensely. She laughed even harder, and holding me slightly stooped over this time, she blasted an inhumanly powerful right hand into my mid-section. I threw up instantly from the force of the blow, but before I could fall she caught me, held me in place again, and buried another wicked left hook into my kidney area. I had never felt such pain. I screamed out as the puke flowed from my mouth, but still, she didn’t let me fall. Set me up and exploded with the biggest right hand yet, straight into my face. The blow lifted me off my feet and I came crashing down on her coffee table, smashing it beneath my now critically battered body. I lay there, flipping, flopping like a flounder, my brains knocked into another dimension, noticing some sort of strange, hard pellets in my mouth, which I suddenly and horrifyingly realized were teeth. She had knocked my front teeth out, and now I lay there spitting them out like blood-soaked coins from a slot machine. I saw my life passing before my eyes.
-You goddamn, pathetic bitch! she snarled. How dare you break my fucking furniture! And look at this place! Look at the fucking mess you’ve made!
I was in no position to look at anything.

Unbelievable as it may sound, she continued to punish me like this for at least another half hour. When I came to I was in a hospital where I stayed for 6 weeks recovering from the beating I had taken. I never saw Connie again, which was just as well. After all, I was obviously not very good at boxing.