Gay Erotic Stories

Boxing Workover! Continued from Part 1… Shawn raised his gloves and ambled around me, bouncing on his toes from left to right. He feinted a couple of jabs but I figured he wouldn’t be throwing any real hard punches. He was going through the motions because he wanted me to literally beat the shit out of him. I sent a couple of left jabs out and the second one connected squarely on his jaw, reeling his head to his left. The thud was loud to my ears. I followed quickly with a right and again connected squarely on his jaw, snapping his head back. I enjoyed punching this guy. I heard his grunts and moans from my blows, and the smacking of the leather as our gloves collided. I felt like the powerhouse Robert DeNiro was in ‘Raging Bull.’ I followed through with a solid punch to Shawn’s abs and felt a wall of brick against my glove. I shifted my weight and slammed a series of short powerful right and lefts into his carved abs. His iron gut repelled the punches as if they were mere pats. "Come on, Dave, you can do better than that. Show me what you’ve got!" Then he sent a double left jab at me and caught me squarely in the mouth. The punches were powerful and solid. Enough to spin me on my toes because I wasn’t prepared. Shawn followed through with a right into my gut. I was a little winded but bounced back quickly. He was really putting me through my paces. Shawn was quite an experienced boxer. We danced around the ring each throwing punches and blocking them. We were testing each other’s reflexes. Shawn came at me with a right hook. I blocked it and slammed a hard right into his chin. His head snapped back with more force than I had intended. He was a bit dazed, then shook it off. But I could tell that Shawn liked it. It was something in his physical attitude. After pounding a little more leather back and forth, Shawn lowered his gloves and remained standing in the center of the ring, making himself a complete willing target. A small smile played across his lips, half daring me to finish what we started. If his plan had been to work me up into a fighting fury, then he succeeded. I paused a moment, preparing myself, then let loose with my cannons. I pounded lefts and rights into his tough midsection. Again, punches merely bounced off his tensed abs. I alternated punching his liver, kidney and abs, varying my rhythm to his breathing. After a few minutes of solid unflagging punches, the force of the blows began to interrupt his breathing and one unexpectedly hard punch into his solar plexus forced his mouthpiece to shoot out of his mouth onto the floor. Shawn didn’t stop the fight to retrieve it. As he raised his gloves up in mock defense, I began punching his abs and ribs wildly. The solid thuds echoing in the room. For several minutes he stood there and took all the punches I could throw. I was entranced and lost all track of time. He was my own personal punching bag and I guess I was taking full advantage of the opportunity. Eventually the punches began taking their toll on his marvelous body and his breathing became irregular. I was slowly wearing him down. I began to alternate pounding his pecs and abs. I noticed that his body began to wobble and occasionally double over from the punches. I straightened him up with several solid uppercuts to the chin. He moaned with pleasure from the punches. As his body continued to absorb the flurry of punches, he began stepping backwards. I continued to pound his gut like a battering ram, finally backing him into the corner. But he only placed each arm on the ropes for support and nodded for me to continue working him over. He wasn’t yet ready for me to stop. I gave his abs a break and began punching his face like a speed bag. My right glove pounded his jaw repeatedly. Then I began alternating left and right uppercuts to the chin, which snapped his head back again and again. With such a willing target, it didn’t take long to bloody his nose and start a cut at his eye. Blood was already trickling from the cuts at his mouth. But Shawn showed no signs of wanting to stop the brutality. He seemed to be absorbing every punch I threw. His handsome face was reddening from my blows. The bruising was already beginning to show. If this kept up, Shawn’s face would soon become a bloody pulp. I began pulling some of my punches to his face so that I wouldn’t break his jaw by accident. I then returned to working over his rippled six-pack. My arms felt like heavy steel rods, my rhythm already slowing. I began to pound his lower abs, and this time, he moaned with each solid punch. Shawn was nearing his limit as I was nearing exhaustion. Shawn was truly a Man’s Man. This man took more punishment than I thought he ever would. He again raised his gloves in the fight stance and I continued to drive the punches into his solar plexus. More moans followed each deepening punch. Now I could really feel the punches going deeper and deeper into his body. I concentrated my full force on the next few punches, knowing the match would likely end very soon. I began punching his squared jaw with solid uppercuts after every punch to his abs and ribs. "Give me all you’ve got!" he screamed. In my own fighting frenzy, with both gloves I reached out to him and I grabbed Shawn securely by the shoulders. I leaned into him and lifted my right knee and rammed it snugly into his unprotected balls. There was a gurgled choking sound when Shawn’s body was racked by the blow and his face twisted in reflected pain. I pumped my knee into him again and again. And as his gloves reached down reflexively to cover his groin I followed through with several solid punches to his abs and finished with a right and left uppercut to his chin. He was really dazed and I could see him begin to lose consciousness. But somehow his wobbly knees held him up. Finally after one last barrage of lefts and rights to his gut, Shawn’s muscled body collapsed to the canvas floor. He was sprawled on his back, arms outstretched... unconscious. I dropped down to my knees and leaned over him. His breathing was labored. I decided to administer mouth-to-mouth resuscitation to bring him back to consciousness. I quickly pulled off my gloves and I put my mouth over his and held his nose. I blew life’s breath into him and after a long moment brought him back. I felt erotic stirrings as I suddenly realized I was practically straddling Shawn, laying prone across his body, over his hard muscular torso. His hairy chest was matted with sweat and blood. I felt his body begin to stir under me and then I felt his warm moist tongue enter my mouth and begin to caress my tongue. His gloved arms entwined around my neck and pulled me down on top of him. I buried my arms around him and allowed my tongue to reawaken his senses. We laid like that for several minutes, our tongues sharing each other’s sweet juices. We then had some of the greatest sex two athletes could ever have. Needless to say I became Shawn’s regular sparring partner and he became my own personal trainer.