Boxing Junkies Pt. 02

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2 fist fights and rough sex in a hotel bathroom.
4k words
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Part 2 of the 3 part series

Updated 06/07/2023
Created 07/05/2015
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This is a continuation of the August/Mason lust story. It is perfectly fine to read this installment on its own, but if you would like to see how they came together as a couple you can feel free to read part one. If you have ever watched boxing, you may have noticed that there are sometimes fights in the crowds; that was the inspiration for this story. All fighters and events are fictional. Trigger warning: there is a brief, casual reference to domestic violence. Also, if fighting, blood, and sweat aren't your thing, this is probably not the right fic for you.

*****

After weeks of training, Mason's fight with Jack Travis had finally arrived. The ten round heavyweight contest was scheduled as the opening bout for the Jamison/Williams card on HBO. Considering it was Mason's first televised event, he was understandably nervous. So when Seamus O'Lydia, his trainer and my godfather, sought me out in the crowd, I was more than willing to check in on Mason as requested. And when I poked my head into his dressing room, I wasn't surprised to find him alone, sitting with his head down in quiet contemplation.

"Knock, knock. Seamus said you wanted to see me?"

Mason looked up and immediately came over to pull me in, closing the door behind him. Without another word, he kissed me with a passion normally reserved for those hey-I-haven't-seen-you-in-weeks occasions, even though we had just seen each other naked that same morning. At the time, we were in that delightful phase of our relationship where we couldn't keep our hands off of each other.

Pressing me against the wall his tongue quickly licked through my lips to explore my mouth and I went with it, assuming Mason needed this for whatever reason. And it's not like I was going to deny a half-naked, gorgeously buff heavyweight fighter anything he asked for. Surprisingly, he kept it PG13, only groping me slightly over my clothes with his awkwardly gloved hands before eventually breaking his mouth away from mine.

"Thanks. I needed that."

I patted his arms in what I hoped was a reassuring gesture. "No prob. How you feeling?"

Releasing me, Mason paced the room. "Good, good." He shook out his shoulders and released a deep breath. "Ok."

I didn't bother trying to follow him, but just watched him from a stationary position. "It's all good, babe. You put in the work, now you just need to relax and let your body do the rest. Stick to the game plan, fight your fight, don't get drawn in by him, and you'll be fine."

"Fine?"

"Yeah, fine. I'm not gonna say it's a shoe in because anything could happen."

He stopped to stare at me and spit out, "Thanks for the vote of confidence, coach."

As he turned away I hustled over and grabbed a hold of his face, forcing him to look at me and not resume his pacing. "Hey. Listen to me. If you just want someone to blow smoke up your ass, you got the wrong girl. I believe in you. I know you can beat Travis, but that doesn't mean you're going to. My dad always used to say that the biggest obstacle on the winning path is ego. Trust your body, use your mind, but don't get cocky. Seamus is here to tell you you're gonna win. I'm here to remind you that losing is a real possibility. And you're here to prove Seamus right. Got it?"

His eyes had slowly softened during my pep talk and now he smiled down at me. "Yeah, baby girl, I got it."

I planted a firm kiss on his lips. "You got this. Now fuck this guy up, cause I got money riding on this fight and I don't feel like losing it and dealing with your sour mood, too."

He smacked my ass hard enough to get my attention. "Get outta here that shit, Matthews."

In retaliation I pinched an exposed nipple as he jerked away laughing. "Good luck, Winger." I walked toward the door, but turned to give him one last smile before I left. "Oh, and if you win, I'll totally let you fuck me in the locker room."

"Shit, are you trying to distract me?"

I held a hand to my chest in mock horror. "Never! But think about this, even if you lose, I'll still blow you in the car on the way home."

He threw a towel at me and shouted as I closed the door, "You're a fucking bitch, August." I took no offense; I heard the smile in his voice as he said it.

Making my way back through the arena, I found my seat again and tried to calm myself down now that I had talked Mason through his shit. It wasn't just that I was nervous for him; I used to kick box, so I understood the pressure of competitions. My real point of worry was Seamus. Mason had taken a chance when he chose to train at O'Lydia's and not the major facility in Boston. If Mason didn't do well, it would be easy for him and everyone else to blame Seamus and his team for the loss. Or blame them for an unimpressive victory, for that matter.

I sat with Seamus's wife, Karen, and we shared several silent, but meaningful glances as we waited for the fight to start. We both knew what was on the line, but we also both knew it was totally out of our hands, so there was nothing more to say really.

By the time the fight kicked off, my blood was pumping nearly pure adrenaline through my veins and I was anxious to have it done, one way or the other. The first three rounds were fairly even, hard to score one way or the other. Of course, the biased girlfriend in me gave them to Mason, but the competitor in me knew that the judges could go either way, easily.

At the end of six was when I really started to panic. Mason was landing some clean shots, but so was Travis. And while Travis had wobbled Mason briefly in the fifth, Mason came back with an impressive flurry of punches that should have won him the round. However, at that point, all bets were off.

Heading into the eighth I was sure Mason was going to pull out a decision victory if nobody got knocked out. Pretty sure. Like fifty percent sure. Fuck. I was frustrated, so I could only imagine how Mason and Seamus were feeling. To add into all this, some asshole in the row behind me had decided that Mason was the most boring boxer had ever seen and was shouting his opinion very loudly and very obnoxiously, as he had been for pretty much the entire fight.

Finally, fed up and feeling helpless, I whipped around and unleashed all my pent up emotion. "Hey, shut the fuck up, seriously. You don't know shit about shit, so sit down."

As his friends laughed, the man in question eyed me ferociously. Considering I had twenty years of fight training and three inches of height on the guy, I was not intimidated in the least. "Like you do, bitch? Your boy there is stiff as a board, not doing nothing."

"He's methodical, not lazy. If you knew anything about boxing you could see that from a mile away."

"He's boring, so fuck you."

"I rest my case. If you had a valid argument, you wouldn't be reduced to childish blow offs."

"Lady, I know he's good looking, but the guy can't box for shit. So why don't you stop talking and choke on his dick."

He turned to high five his friend and when he looked back at me I met his right eye with my left fist before leaping over the back of my chair into his aisle. Even though I was in a short blue cocktail dress and heels I was not going to be deterred. I felt Karen try to grab me, but I was too quick. Face to face with the asshole I hit him again, but he also managed to throw a good punch that connected with my jaw and left me momentarily stunned. As he wound up to hit me again, I slapped his hand away and hit him square on the nose.

His friend, who at first had tried to stop the jerk from hitting me, now saw that his friend was the one who needed protection. As such, while I was distracted with pummeling the loud mouth, he landed a solid blow to the left side of my face that sent me tumbling back in my own row.

At this point, half the crowd were watching us instead of Mason and Travis, thus bringing security quickly over. A lumbering man in a yellow shirt grabbed me from behind and set me my feet before going after the two guys I had fought with.

As they were being led away, another guy in their row vehemently objected. "Hey, hey, she was the one who started throwing punches!" Since I was bleeding from my face and knuckles I really wasn't in a position to argue. Another member of security grabbed me and started to take me out of the building.

Karen, bless her heart, tried to protest, but to no avail. "It's alright, just tell Seamus what happened after the fight. He'll bail me out."

Sad to say, this was the not the first time I had been arrested for fighting. Though, it was the first time I was arrested in New Jersey, so that's something. As I was being processed, I asked the cops if they knew who won the fight, but apparently none of them were boxing fans.

One smart ass decided to help me get my priorities in line. "Listen, darling, you better be more concerned about getting a lawyer than some boxing match."

Even in handcuffs and possibly facing assault charges I was still unapologetically sassy. "You listen, dick face, I am a lawyer so you better watch your damn mouth before I sue you for sexual harassment."

An open-mouthed stare was my only response as another officer lead me to a holding cell. Since I knew Seamus would come get me I didn't even bother with a phone call. Instead, I sat in that dank, grey cell immensely pissed off, mostly at myself. Admittedly, I have a bit of a temper. And I really didn't know how I was going to explain my arrest to the legal ethics committee I was sure to face when I got back to Boston. I only prayed that I was charged with a misdemeanor, because a felony conviction would mean automatic disbarment.

The longer I sat there, the more I regretted what I had done. Sure, I wanted to defend Mason and myself, but I also just hate bullies and sometimes I still liked to feel like a tough girl. It was stupid and immature and I should have known better. In the midst of silently berating myself, a man popped up in my peripheral vision.

I was shocked to see Mason, and not Seamus, standing outside my cell. He looked beat up, the right side of his face red and puffy, but damn he also just looked good, casual in his workout clothes and deliciously rough. Suddenly, I didn't give a shit about my arrest or its consequences anymore. I jumped up and we faced each other through the bars of my cell. "Did you win?"

"You're in jail, you have a black eye forming, and the only thing you wanna know is if I won the fight?"

I waved my hands impatiently. "Just shut up and tell me."

Mason smiled wide, thankfully he still had all his teeth. "Knockout, tenth round, Travis was out cold."

I pumped my fist. "Fuck yes. I knew you had it in you. Right hook?"

"Yeah, right hook, baby girl. Now, you wanna tell me about your fight?" I shrugged. "Don't gimme that shit, August. What happened?"

"Some guy got smart, so I popped him one." Mason raised an eyebrow at me. "Ok, so I popped him a few times. Fucking asshole deserved it."

"I hope you didn't do this defending my honor." When I didn't reply I thought Mason was going to explode with laughter. "You did, didn't you? Let me guess, this guy was talking trash about me, so you got up and hit him."

"To be fair, he was talking shit for seven rounds before I hit him, so I personally think I showed a high level of restraint."

Mason nodded and considered that for a moment. "Yeah, I suppose so. Only problem is, if you get hit with felony charges you no longer have a career."

I hated him for reminding me of that, but it was also wonderfully surprising that he knew the repercussions I was facing without asking. We considered each other for a moment, until finally he cracked and let out a laugh. "Good thing the guy you beat up doesn't wanna press charges and you're only being fined for disturbing the peace."

"You fucking knew and you just let me stew about the possibility of losing my law license?"

He shrugged one shoulder. "You deserved it. Seamus is paying your fine. You'll be out in a minute."

"And when I am, I gonna beat your ass, prick."

In truth, I couldn't bring myself to injure Mason anymore. He was the winner, but he certainly didn't look like it. In the car on the way to our hotel his right eye was practically swelling shut right in front of me and his hands were raw as well.

When he felt my gaze he looked over and said, "What a pair we make, huh?" Snuggling into his arm, taking a strange comfort in our shared physical injuries, I agreed.

At the hotel he insisted on taking me into the bathroom for some first aid, forcing me to sit on the closed toilet as he knelt in front of me. First, he put his fingers on my jawline near my ears. "Open. Now bite down." He moved his fingers down along my jaw. "Open." I slapped his hands away.

"It's not broken."

He slapped my hands in return and put his back on my jaw. "Just humor me, Rocky." I let him feel along my jaw for fractures and dutifully opened and closed my mouth whenever he ask. Then, he grabbed a wash cloth and cleaned the small cut over my eyebrow, as well as the cuts on my hands, none of which were terrible.

As he put a tiny stip of bandage over the wound on my face he looked upset. "Shit, August, people are gonna think I did this to you."

I had to smile, the idea of this giant teddy bear harming me in anyway was just that laughable. He was huge, yes, but he was so sweet it almost gave me a toothache sometimes. "Please. If someone's that dumb you'll just point to your face and tell them I got you back good."

Mason smirked and rubbed my thighs exposed by the dress. "You really did this for me? Cause he was talking shit?"

I nodded. "The only person who gets to bad mouth you is me. And Seamus." Mason looked suddenly serious again and he moved his hands higher on my legs. "Are you mad? Feel like less of a man since a woman defended you?"

"Nope, kinda turns me on, actually. I like that you're not afraid to hit a man if he gets out of line. Keeps me grounded. Also, and I know this is very, very wrong of me, but I find it sexy as hell that you can take a punch." I glowed with satisfaction as his hands now shoved the dress up around my thighs to expose my bare pussy. At the sight of it, Mason grinned. "No panties..."

"Just how you like me."

"Mmm, got that right." I dutifully spread my thighs to allow him to run a finger through my slit as he kept his eyes locked on mine. Before he could slide a finger inside, I grabbed his wrist.

"Come on, let's go to bed."

He leaned down to kiss my knees and rumbled out, "Good idea."

"No, no, for sleep." He looked up at me, more annoyed than I had ever seen him. "Seriously? You can't wanna fuck right now. Have you seen your face? And mine? We're a mess."

"We'll just have to be gentle then."

Mason was now forcing my legs apart as I tried to close them and licking up my inner thigh. When he reached my pussy, I instinctually popped my hips up and forward to allow him better access, releasing a throaty moan when his tongue met my clit. His voice was deep and whispering, "Yeah, that's it, rub your pussy on my face. Love it."

Mindful of his very swollen eye, I did as he asked, grinding myself against his mouth as his tongue laved at my soft, wet center. I used my hands on his massive back to steady myself as he continued to work. His beat up hands, still sticky from the tape of his wrappings, were holding onto my thighs so tightly I was already imagining the finger shaped bruises I would see tomorrow. Yeah, me and Mason never did do gentle very well.

When I came, he moaned as he held me down and kept at it until I was screaming out his name and forced to come again in quick succession, never removing my eyes from his as he always demanded of me. And even after all that, Mason still licked at me, groaning and muttering praise.

When he managed to tear his face away from my pussy, a hand wrapped around the back of my neck and pulled my lips toward his, being met with a brutal, claiming kiss. The pungent sweetness from my pussy mingled in our mouths as I drank it up and that, combined with the blood I tasted from a cut on his lip, turned me on even more.

"Mmm, I really, really like you all bloody and sweaty."

He chuckled against my mouth. "You're a freak, August. But that's one of the things I like about you."

I kissed him harder in agreement. "You shower yet?"

"Nope, went right from the arena to pick up my little jail bird."

"Hmm, I think you need a shower, champ."

"So do you."

"Absolutely." He stood up to disrobe and I sat there for a moment to appreciate the view. His body, even racked with punishment was glorious: broad shoulders, narrow waist, hard arms, abs you could bounce a penny off, strong thighs, and then there was the fat, long cock between his hips that never failed to impress.

Tossing his shirt at my head he chastised me. "Stop gawking and get naked."

Snapping out of it and jumping up, I turned so he could unzip my dress and then quickly peeled it off. Mason's hands immediately came to my exposed breasts. "I think I'm gonna burn all your underwear and bras when we get home. I fucking love the thought of your bare skin rubbing against your clothes all day."

"Mmmm." I liked it too, honestly. That's why his no panties mandate was always obeyed. That dress against my breasts and pussy all night had made me ravenous and not even a fist fight or two orgasms were slowing me down now that he had insisted on getting it on. I pushed him against the wall and our bodies slammed together, both of us wincing momentarily in pain.

Mason could have manhandled me easily, but he allowed me to overpower him just for fun. He moaned into my mouth as I reached down and stroked his cock. Normally, I could have kissed and teased him for hours, but all the blood and sweat, his fight and mine releasing copious amount of adrenaline, the whole night had made me impatient to feel him inside me. Breathlessly I told him, "Christ, I need you. Fuck me. And don't be gentle."

He let out a growling groan and nipped at my bottom lip before turning me around and putting my hands on the sink. Without a moment's hesitation, he pulled my hips back and rammed inside me. "Ooooh, fuck yes."

I felt his hand fist in my hair and he pulled my head back, already slamming his cock into me from behind. "You like that, baby girl?"

"Yes, oh God, yes. Harder." He complied, thrusting aggressively and twisting my wavy brown hair around his fist even tighter. I really hoped the sink was strong enough to withstand my holding on for dear life.

After situating one foot on the toilet to better leverage himself, Mason switched angles making me breathless. "Tell me you love it."

"I fucking love it. Love your cock inside me." I snapped my hips back to meet his to illustrate my point.

"I know you do. That wet pussy just eats up this fat cock, doesn't it?"

"Yes, yes." The sound of skin on skin was obscene and built the tension in my body at a ridiculous pace.

"I'm gonna fuck this pussy raw and you're gonna love it, aren't you?"

"Yeah, Mason, fuck me raw. Fuck me sore. Make me fucking come."

"Oh, you gonna come already?"

I whimpered, so close to the edge. "Yes, please. May I?"

Still fucking me, he reached a hand around and used it to pull me up right. His arm snaked around my body and his long fingers came up to wrap around my throat with the just the right amount of pressure. My pussy was pulsing around him at the sensation and I tried to hold back until he gave me permission, but it was painfully hard to do so.

Mercifully, he twisted my head to meet his green-eyed stare and then smiled. "Then come for me, baby girl." And I did, grasping out raspy breath and shuddering against him, my pussy sucking his dick deeper with every wave of pleasure. When I finished, Mason leaned down and bit into the flesh of my shoulder before releasing inside me with a shout.

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