The Bucket List

"So John, it appeared to me that you really liked the dance class. It looked like you were enjoying being MaryAnn's partner."

"What's not to like? She's a beautiful, sexy young woman. I was really having a good time. By the way, you didn't seem to be shying away from your partner either. It looked to me like you were trying to be the teacher's pet."

Laughing, "She is rather pretty after all. I don't get to meet many beautiful women socially anymore."

I wanted to pursue this further, but I could tell that Joe was turning inward and becoming melancholy, so I dropped it.

We got back to the house around ten and went our separate ways; Joe to his office in the library, me to my room to get ready for bed.

The next morning I met MaryAnn in the gym. After warm-ups, she pushed me hard on the circuit machines and on the free weights. Neither of us brought up the dance class.

"John you're doing really well with your weight training, I'm beginning to see some real changes in your muscle tone and development. I think in a couple of weeks we can start you on my boxing regime. That will help you with both cardio fitness and strength."

I left the gym with the image of MaryAnn in shorts and a sleeveless shirt pounding away on the heavy bag, sweat dripping down her face; a fighting Amazon. By the time I got up to my room I needed to take a cold shower.

I was alone for breakfast. I assumed that MaryAnn and Joe had one of their special sessions and were not going to be available until later. I had nothing else to do but to sit by the pool and soak up some rays. When I got too hot I took a dip in the pool. Life was good.

For the next several weeks, my life stayed pretty much the same. We had our dance classes, and Joe and I attended the evening course, which got more interesting as it went on.

One Tuesday morning MaryAnn announced after my warm up on the treadmill, that she wanted me to join her in what she called the "combat room". I walked into the fifteen by fifteen foot room, and there was MaryAnn dressed just as I had envisioned her.

"Come here John, let me get you set up with some training gloves and pads."

I walked over doing my best to avoid getting an erection. After she fit me with the gloves, she demonstrated the technique involved in working out on the heavy bag. The bag swayed as she hit it with both hands.

"Ok John, now I want you to try it. Go easy at first; I don't want you to injure yourself by hitting it wrong. I'll watch and correct your form as you go."

I began to hit the bag as I had seen her do it. Softly at first, as she corrected my form; then with more power and increased frequency, I threw punches with both hands.

"Good John, just like that. I want you to give me ten minutes on the bag."

By the end of ten minutes I thought I was going to die. When she shouted, "Time" I leaned over, my hands on my knees, sweat pouring down my face.

"That was really good John. See what a great workout that gives you. You're done for the day; leave the gloves and the pads and we'll do it again tomorrow.

'If I live until tomorrow,' I thought as I made my way out of the room and out of the gym. I could hear the thuds of her fists pounding away on the bag as I headed upstairs. I had a new appreciation as to how strong she was, and how good of shape she is in.

That night I had a very erotic dream, about MaryAnn and me, revolving around my new workout regime and dancing. I woke up the following morning with an erection and very sore arms.

During the remainder of the eight weeks, we learned the Cha-Cha, Rumba, Disco and the Waltz. I also made it through several impromptu speeches and one-on-one communication exercises with members of the group.

I must say that I was rather proud of myself when I received my certificate of course completion from Dale Carnegie Training. But, I was even more so when, as a final assignment, along with our dance instructor, the three of us went out to dinner and dancing at a fancy restaurant. It felt like my first date with MaryAnn and I totally enjoyed it.

When we got home that night, instead of going up to my room, I went to my desk in the study, turned on my computer and edited my list:

Number 9 - Take a Dale Carnegie course - DONE;

Number 8 - Learn to Dance - DONE.

I updated and shut down my computer. I went to bed wondering - 'what's next?'

Chapter 10

The next morning when I got up, before getting dressed, I checked myself out in the mirror. I could see some definition in my chest and arms, I had lost any fat that I had around my waist and had put on about ten pounds. Soon I would have to get new workout shirts because my old shirts were getting too tight.

'Maybe, just maybe, I could impress MaryAnn with my improvement.'

I went downstairs to the gym, MaryAnn was already there as usual, but instead of warming up she was sitting on the weight bench holding an envelope addressed to me.

I already knew what it contained, it was just a question how bad it was going to be. I unfolded the paper, read it and looked up at MaryAnn,

"He's got to be kidding, I can't do that."

"He's not kidding; he talked to me about it last night."

I looked back at the paper again;

Number 7 - Participate in a Mixed Boxing Match.

I looked into her eyes,

"Not with you, I could never hit you, I won't do it."

"No, not with me, I just have to train the both of you. Get warmed up on the treadmill, then come into the combat room and we'll start your training."

After I was warmed up, I entered the room and put on my wraps and the twelve-ounce gloves that she had out for me.

"Today we are going to go over the basic punches, most of which you have already been using during your workouts on the bag. Let's first take up the proper stance. Since you're right handed, your left foot is out in front, and you will jab with your left hand, throw hooks with your left as well, and use the right to throw straight punches, uppercuts and hooks to the head of your opponent. This is just like working out on the bag except, for one thing, unlike the bag your opponent will be defending herself and will be punching back."

She stood in front of me wearing headgear and body pads while I had nothing, not even a mouthpiece.

When I commented on this, she told me not to worry. She was not going to be throwing any punches.

"You're not ready for that, yet!"

For the next hour I learned how to punch with either hand, how to double up on my punches, when to throw what type of punch. I was beginning to feel pretty good about this, that is until MaryAnn hit me with two 'love taps' on both cheeks. Neither one hurt me, but they did get my attention.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I guess I lied before when I said I won't throw any punches. I wanted to make a point. Your opponent is only going to stay on defense for so long before she will try to hurt you. When she goes on offense you have to be able to defend against her punches. You defend against getting hit by using your gloves, your arms, and your shoulders to block or deflect her punches, but the most important element of defense is movement. It is a lot harder to hit an object in motion than it is to hit a stationary target. Tomorrow we'll work on movement and defense; this time you will be wearing the protective gear. We're done for today, take off the gloves and join me for a run on the beach."

As we ran up the beach I couldn't help looking over at her. She was so awesome, so beautiful and yet so deadly. We ran north along the coast for what seemed like a couple of miles and then turned around and ran back to the house. By the time we finished I was sucking wind, while she looked like she could do it all over again.

"We are going to have to build up your stamina if you are going to go four rounds with an experienced fighter. Most people have no idea how physically demanding boxing can be. If you're not in top shape, you'll be dead meat by the end of the third round. Let's go in and shower, change, and then have breakfast."

I must have had a look of shock on my face, when I turned back towards her.

"Not together, silly."

She punched me in the arm and ran up the stairs to the patio. I walked, my eyes never leaving that magnificent butt of hers.

At breakfast, I asked her if she knew who Joe and I would be fighting.

"I've never met them personally. All I know is that they are a mother-and-daughter team that owns a gym in San Diego. Joe was the one that told me about them and he was the one that set this up."

Our training sessions continued for the next three weeks. I trained in the morning, and Joe trained in the afternoon. One Tuesday morning, MaryAnn told me that it was time to begin sparring with one another. We were wearing twelve-ounce gloves, headgear, and mouthpieces when we met in the center of the room.

"This is for real, she said, protect yourself at all times. We have to determine if you can take being punched, some people can't, if you feel that you have to quit, don't be a hero, just do it. It's better to find out now than on Saturday."

She turned and walked over to the timer on the floor near the other equipment.

"We'll be fighting four, three minute rounds with a minute rest between rounds. Good Luck."

The bell sounded and we approached the center of the room. We circled to the right, each trying to breech the defense of the other. Before I knew what happened I was hit in the face with a sharp left jab. 'Boy, she is quick.' I regrouped and, trying to remember everything she taught me, I continued to move, my hands held high, my elbows in. I threw a quick jab, which glanced off her glove, then another, then a third that landed on her cheek. I paid for that when she landed a hard left hook to my side. The punch hit with a loud thud. Momentarily stunned, I retreated, covering up as best I could. We traded punches for the rest of the round. She was landing about twice as many punches as I was. The bell sounded ending round one. We each retreated to our corner of the room.

"Good first round, John. It looks like you can take a pretty good punch. Remember to keep your guard up and pull back your jab a little more quickly so that you can defend against my right hand."

Round two began the same way round one ended. I scored some pretty good shots to her body, but they appeared to have no effect. I wish I could say the same for hers. About halfway through the round, I made a mistake and found myself trapped in the corner. She unloaded with both hands to my body, as I covered my head and tried to slip away. The pain in my sides was intense, but after I blocked one of her punches, I was able to hook her arm in mine and spin away. I saw a smile flash across her face, and then she resumed her attack. I survived the round, but was feeling tired and sore.

"Great job getting out of the corner. Keep moving, don't let yourself get trapped like that."

'Easy for her to say', I thought as I tried to breathe. My body felt like it was on fire.

The bell rang for the third round. I came out a little more cautiously than before, trying to protect my body, stay away from her powerful body shots and throw enough jabs to keep her at bay. Towards the end of the round I got hit once again with a hard left hook in the ribs. The air rushed out of my lungs and I was forced to take a knee. She retreated to her corner as she began to count. I looked up at her; the pain in my side couldn't mask the lust in my heart for this amazing woman. I became aware of the feelings in my cock as she reached eight. I stood up, sure that she could see the erection in my shorts, but no longer caring. I waved her back in, put up my hands and waited. Then the bell sounded.

"Great job for your first fight, she said as she took off her headgear and gloves, but I think you've had enough for one day. We'll do this again tomorrow. Let's go rinse off, get a bathing suit and soak in the pool."

She helped me remove my gloves, threw her arm over my shoulder and led me upstairs to the bedrooms.

"See you in twenty minutes down in the pool."

A quick cold shower, a change into my bathing suit, and I was walking down to the pool in fifteen minutes. I sat in the pool watching for MaryAnn. When she came out the door, I was somewhat disappointed because she had on a one-piece swimsuit, the kind that lifeguards wear.

'No suntan lotion today,' I thought ruefully

"John, you did really well today. You showed me that you can take getting hit and that you can defend yourself fairly well. We only have three more days to work on your defensive skills, I'm worried about you, and I don't want you to get hurt. Promise me that you won't try to do more than you're capable of. If you get hurt, fall down and stay down. I don't know these people, they may be nice, or they may be not be so nice. Just be careful down there."

I could tell she was really concerned about this. Did that mean she had some feelings for me or was she just trying to be nice?

"I'll be careful, no heroics; if I get in trouble I'll stay down. I still have a lot of work to do around here; I can't afford to lose any of my thinking ability over this."

We sat in the pool for about an hour. I was feeling almost normal again when she announced that she had to get ready for her workout with Joe. Reluctantly, I got out of the pool as well, and sat in the sun to dry off. I was tempted to sneak down to the gym and watch her spar with Joe, but somehow it didn't feel right to me. He should have his privacy just like he gave me mine.

For the next three days the routine was the same, spar in the morning, soak off the bruises in the pool, and rest in the sun.

Saturday afternoon Joe and I boarded the company jet and flew to San Diego. Joe rented a car and we drove to the North Clairemont section of town. We checked into a motel and waited until 8:45 to drive to Kris's Gym.

It seemed to be a relatively new building. The gym catered to both those locals that were serious athletes, and to those just trying to lose a few pounds. When we entered the gym, Joe walked up to the front desk and introduced us to the woman sitting behind the desk.

"Joe, it's a pleasure to finally meet you; and you must be John, nice to meet you as well."

She had a firm handshake. I could tell that she was older than me by the crow's feet around her eyes, but everything else seemed to suggest that she was in fantastic shape.

"If you don't mind we have some paperwork to take care of before we begin." She took out a couple of preprinted forms, liability waivers, that she had each of us sign. She also took out a copy of the rules that we would be using. They were the same rules that MaryAnn and I had been using when we sparred. The only exception was that we would not be wearing headgear.

"Come on in, I'll introduce you to my daughter Kristin. Then I'll show you where to change. Joe, you and I will fight first." We walked to the back of the gym, a sign above the closed door read 'Boxing Room'. Another sign taped over the glass window in the door read, 'Reserved Private Session, No Admittance'.

'At least I won't have an audience to worry about.'

We entered the room; someone was pounding a heavy bag in the corner. It was a young woman, about 25 years old. She was tall, about 5'10", and lean, with broad shoulders and thickly muscled arms.

"Kristin, come over here and meet our guests."

She moved like a big cat on the prowl.

'Oh Shit, I have to fight her?'

"Kristin this is Joe, and this is your opponent, John."

She stuck out her hand and shook ours, holding mine a little longer and a little tighter than normal. If she was trying to intimidate me, it was working.

Kris took us to the locker room.

"You can change in here. Joe, come into the gym when you are ready."

We changed in silence, Joe looked really focused. After he warmed up, he picked up his pads and gloves and headed for the door.

"Wish me luck, John."

"Good Luck Joe, Be careful out there."

"I will; you stay here and concentrate on everything MaryAnn taught you. Warm up to a good sweat, I'll see you in a little while."

I sat there going over in my mind everything she had taught me. The image of Kristin kept entering my thoughts replacing that of MaryAnn as I stood in front of the mirror warming up. She was not going to show me any mercy. Suddenly the door to the locker room opened and Joe walked in.

He had a bump under his left eye and his body was full of nasty red bruises. As he sat slumped over in front of his locker, there was no need to ask who won. He looked up at me, smiled and said,

"At least I finished on my feet. This was my fantasy, not yours, you don't have to do this if you don't want to, I'll understand."

"No Joe, I won't quit now. What would MaryAnn think of me?"

"Alright, wait for a few minutes and keep loose, I'll come out there and be your corner man."

Joe went to the sink, washed his face and put his hand on my shoulder.

"I'm proud of you; you've become like a son to me." We hugged and left the locker room.

Kristin was in the ring, gently shadow-boxing. "I was beginning to think you weren't going to show up."

"Come on, let's get this over with."

I climbed into the ring; Joe helped me with my gloves and gave me my mouthpiece. Kris was the referee. She called us to the center of the ring; she went over the rules and asked if there were any questions.

We returned to our corner. When the bell sounded, we touched gloves and prepared to fight. Noting that she had three inches on me and about thirty pounds of muscle, my strategy was simple: hit quickly and don't get hit in return. I threw several jabs, which she blocked easily. I threw a combination off the jab, which scored to her body but appeared to do no damage. She was content to stalk me around the ring occasionally throwing a jab or two, looking to end the fight with one punch. Towards the end of the round, she thought she had me cornered and threw a right lead, which I evaded and countered with a left hook to her head that landed with a jarring thud. She staggered to her left, hurt, but did not fall. I moved in to press my advantage, but before I could do anymore damage the bell sounded.

"That was great work out there, John. You almost put her down. Be careful this round, she'll be coming out firing both barrels."

Sure enough, when the bell rang starting round two, she was on her feet charging across the ring. She threw three punches to my one. I was able to block most of her punches with my gloves and shoulders. The ones that did get past my guard hurt like hell, but did no real damage. I kept sticking my jab in her face, not doing any damage but keeping her off balance and away from me. When the bell signaled the end of the second round, I turned and headed for my corner. Kristin stormed off to hers. Kris walked over to her and got into her face. I could hear the exchange but not the words that were spoken. Kris was shaking her head, while Kristin looked past her and glared at me.

The last words I heard from Joe as the bell rang were, "Stay away from her."

Kristin came out fast once again. I stuck her with my jab and practically ran away to the other side of the ring. She came at me again and I tried it a second time. This time I caught her right on the nose, drawing a small trickle of blood. Infuriated she came at me a third time. This time I stood my ground and hit her with a solid right hand. She stepped back, and threw up her hands to cover up. I had hurt her. I continued to pound away at her body, trying to bring her guard down. But she was in such great condition that my punches seemed to have little effect on her. When the bell sounded ending the round, I don't know which one of us was in more trouble. We both headed back to our corner to a much-needed rest and words of encouragement.