Boxing Junkies Pt. 01

The fact is, Mason was everything I never thought possible rolled into one fine looking package. One reason I stayed away from gym rats is because they usually can't handle a strong woman. However, Mason had just proved that he took no offense to my besting him in the ring. Another reason, they tend to be immature, but Mason was intelligent, articulate, and generally well mannered. He was clearly used to being dominant, but he wasn't pushy and never made me feel smothered by his attentions. He seemed fiercely possessive and protective, while also respectful of my autonomy. I wanted him, quite desperately at this point. So much so that I was looking for any excuse to indulge myself. Luckily, an old friend offered some great advice.

That night Seamus called to yell at me some more. I let him. When he was done and we were friends again, I asked what he thought of Mason. "He's a good kid, mean right hook, but lead feet. He won't be one of the greats, but I'll be proud to stand in his corner. And yeah, I think he can definitely beat Jack fucking Travis, anyday."

"Hmm."

"Not the answer you were looking for?"

"No, that's all true."

"But?"

"But nothing."

"But you like him. Like...like him like him." Poor thing, he sounded so uncomfortable to be having that conversation with me and yet was willing to do it anyway.

I hate to give him some shit about it, though. "Seamus, darling, I didn't know you were a teenaged girl."

"Fuck you, Auggie. Come on, what's the deal, then? Just ask him out, I know you're not shy."

"I've been thinking about it...but also thinking about dad. What he told me when I started training."

Seamus huffed out a laugh, "Yeah, I remember. Your dad always was a little overprotective of you."

"A little?"

I got a fully, hearty laugh this time. "Ok, more than a little, but he meant well." We both paused in silent remembrance of the hellion that was my dad. Seamus continued, "August, I know what he said made sense back then. It was for the best and I agreed with him. But that was a long time ago, you understand?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"That maybe you should stop listening to something your father told you twenty years ago that isn't even relevant anymore. And if you're worried about the other guys...I don't know, but I don't imagine Mason is the type to talk shit. He strikes me as a stand up guy, right?"

Fair points. "You think dad would've liked Mason?"

"Probably. But, maybe you should focus on what you think of him instead."

I rolled my eyes, but I knew he was right. "Goodnight, old man."

The sixth time I saw Mason Winger, after several days of solitary deliberation, he was greeting me at the door of his apartment, wearing a pair of old grey sweatpants, no shirt, no socks.

He looked astonished to see me and even more so when I shoved a plate of cookies at him and barged passed. Before he even had the door closed I was already off and running. "Look, I know this is weird, but I just wanted to bring some cookies to say...whatever. I didn't make them, Shea's wife did, but I helped...sort of. Anyway, I-"

"You ok? You seem hyper."

I held up a hand. "Just let me get this out." He nodded. I continued, "When I started training my dad would only let me come to the gym under one condition. He made me promise to never date any of the guys from O'Lydia's, ever. And I agreed with him, never balked at his stipulation. Since most of the dudes are like brothers to me, it was never an issue, but you...I mean, you're just...I don't have brotherly feelings about you. At all. Not friendly feelings, even. So...there's that."

Mason didn't move to interrupt me, sensing I wasn't quite done. "My dad died three years ago, but...I still never...I mean...it never occurred to me to date one of the guys. It took me years to earn their respect and I just think...if I was involved with someone who trains there, it'd fuck with the dynamic. I don't wanna be that girl, you know? It's just easier for me...being one of the boys. And you can't be one of the boys if you're fucking one of the boys, you know?" I shrugged, not sure if I had said too much or not enough. Every thought I had about Mason and my perception of our situation was shooting around in my head and I just prayed I had made myself somewhat clear.

Mason had moved passed me to set the baked goods on the coffee table before turning to survey me. "You done?"

I let out a breath. "I think so."

"That all makes sense and I totally get it. But, then, tell me why you came here. I know it wasn't to bring me cookies."

"Because I started thinking that maybe all that was bullshit and I've just been living inside my own head for too long. And when I asked Seamus what my dad would've thought of you, he reminded me that maybe that isn't the right question I need to ask myself."

Mason invaded my space, backed me toward the wall. I held back a gasp at how familiar it was to the first of many fantasies I had had about him. His voice was deep, but soft. His rich, woody scent filling my nose in his sudden nearness. "So, what's the answer?"

Tilting my head back, I managed, with more breath than words, "I...want you, Mason." He gave me a knowing smile, but even his smugness couldn't deter me. "Do you...uh, maybe still...?"

To answer, he kissed me. And, oh, did he kiss me; plush, wet lips meeting mine with a lushness I never imagined possible. My now jelly knees almost gave out, but my back pressed against the wall and the softness of my chest pushed along the firmness of his front managed to keep me on my feet. I felt his teeth nibbling my bottom lip before he planted tiny, lethargic kisses on the corners of my mouth. He brought his hand up to cup my face and using his thumb, gently opened my mouth before delving in.

When I sucked his tongue deeper, he groaned his approval. And when I reached between us to run my nails up his abs, his hips jerked against mine. He moved his mouth down my jaw to my neck as he grabbed the bottom hem of my shirt to peel it off. Being there with him, after imaging it in every way possible, felt unreal and wonderfully fulfilling.

Sucking kisses down my torso he mumbled, "Mmmm, I'm glad you came over. I was just about to jerk off thinking of you."

"Ugh, yes." The thought of Mason's hand wrapped around his own dick made my pussy pulse in appreciation. But, before we continued, I needed to be clear. Well, as clear as I could be with his mouth on my skin. "Listen, I...if you wouldn't...the other guys...please."

He came up to kiss me delicately. "August, this is between you and me, no one else. I promise." I could only nod, mesmerized by his eyes up close, seeing the streaks of grey that gave them their subtle hue.

I felt my bra snapped free under his hands and then hit the floor. A nipple was in his mouth before it even pebbled in the cool air. A tiny whimper escaped my lips and I was reward with his teeth coming together hard around the taut peak.

My hands were everywhere they could reach, but it wasn't enough. They were itching to feel him, unfettered. As much as it pained me, I tugged on his hair to pull his face away from my breasts. When he rose, I immediately reached for his pants, shoving them down to reveal his smooth, hard cock. I've never been so grateful to see a man going commando.

The sight of that lovely thing made me want to praise the Lord, so I dropped to my knees and took him into my mouth before he could even question my actions. He must have just come from the gym as he was pungent with sweat. And it was the best thing I had ever tasted. His clammy skin became drenched as I worked him enthusiastically, far too excited at the fulfillment of my desires to worry about form. Mason, like most men, didn't really care what I was doing so long as his dick had a home in the warmth of my mouth.

I thought about sucking him off until he came down my throat, if only as a power play, but he didn't give me a chance, practically yanking me away from his dick with a grunt while he stepped out of his pants. Effortlessly, he lifted me in his arms to take me down the hall and turned the corner to his bedroom, where he set my feet on the ground.

His eyes burrowing down at me, he undid the button of my jeans before sinking down to his knees to pull them off, along with my pink thong. He didn't seem to care about my underwear, which was disappointing since I had bought it special for the occasion.

As he let me step out of my pants I said jokingly, "You could've at least complemented my lingerie."

Looking up at my stark naked body he replied in all seriousness, "I prefer you like this. When you come over again, don't wear any panties."

His mouth was then immediately on my thighs, then my midsection, then my hips, so any response I might have mustered was lost to a symphony of gasping breaths and wanton moans. The roughness of his hands skimmed across the smooth expanse of my skin and I found myself leaning toward his touch wherever it might be or be headed.

I felt electic, my body humming with tension. His mouth was the most delicious torture device known to man, roaming everywhere except the center of my being that was almost weeping for his attention. I uttered a single word, "Please."

His lips were on the inside of my thigh, his tongue dragging over my tender flesh. He chuckled; I wanted to stab him. "Please, what?"

"Please fucking get me off."

Another chuckle. I was definitely going to stab him. He stood and before I could make another smart remark, he slipped his thumb back into my mouth. When he removed it, he cupped my pussy and pressed the digit moist with my saliva to my clit and held it there.

I closed my eyes, about to burst at such a tiny gesture, but his other hand came up and gripped the back of my neck, asserting his authority. "No, you'll look at me when you come." And so I did, look at him and come, with his thumb barely moving, his fingers tightly fisted in my hair, eyes dark with both lust and pride as I shook in his arms, my nails digging into his biceps.

Even when I was done, I wasn't satisfied; I needed more of everything. I pulled his face toward mine and took his mouth for my own. He returned my aggression in equal measure and a contest of dominance played out. I ceded to him, not because I didn't think I could win, but because men taking control really fucking turns me on. I might be a tough bitch in the ring and in court, but I'm also a woman raised by alpha male types. I have no desire to engage with weak or subservient men, especially not the bedroom.

Sensing my acquiescence, he pushed harder, in every sense. Forcing his will on me during the kiss and backing me toward his bed that my ass met with a plop. I sat there in a stupor while he retrieved a condom before returning to me. Gone was his easy smile and banter, he was all business now.

I scooted up the bed and he followed, planking his body over mine, allowing his sheathed hardness to burn against my flesh as he nuzzled his face into my neck and went to work with his teeth and tongue. When I reached down to grasp his cock, he grabbed both my wrists and pressed them firmly into the mattress, grinding his hips down to tease me even more as he sucked dark bruises onto my skin.

Left with few options, I surrendered, understanding that this was not a man to be rushed. When he was satisfied I was squirming and moaning enough for him, he released one of my wrists and guided himself inside me. The breadth of his cock ensured that I felt every inch of him sliding seamlessly through my slick channel that was more than ready to hold him.

With my mouth open in a silent plea, he slipped his tongue inside to roam once more. I whimpered with need as he just kissed me and refused to move. His weight on top of me not only stole any lingering breath, but also made it impossible for me to create any friction between us. Finally, he pulled back and then pushed back in, continuing at a pace so maddeningly slow that I began to regret letting him have his way. Both hands wrapped around my wrists once more he stroked as if he had all day and night to get the job done.

My hips jerked up; his hands then held me down as he continued his languorous pace. I let out a moan rife with frustration; this asshole smiled. "You wanna come again, August?"

"Ugh, God, yes." But I also wanted him to keep breathless uttering my name like that.

"Ask me nicely."

I hated that his command made my pussy clench. And yet, I also loved it. "Fuck, please, can I come? Make me come, please."

He release his hold with one hand and brought his thumb to my clit once more, making one tiny circle around the bundle of nerves before removing the digit just as quickly as it had arrived. "Ugh, please?"

His thumb made another pass around my clit and then left. "Fuck you, Winger." He chuckled and slowed his thrusts even more, which made me want to light myself on fire with exasperation. He didn't return his thumb; I asked again, "Please?"

The thumb returned and before he could remove it after his customary rotation I said again, "Please." Another circle. "Please." Another; his thrusting increased slightly. "Please. Please. Please. Please. Please." He rewarded every plea with a pass over my clit and the rhythmic chant and reaction on his part was hypnotizing.

"Look at me, August." Our eyes met, he smirked, and I came harder than before, harder than I had in a long time. Still coming down, he fucked me faster, and I just kept coming, my body jumping off the bed in uncontrolled, ungraceful spasms. The midst of it, I raked my fingers down his massive back and he growled his appreciation.

When I was finally done, he returned his body flush on top of mine and resumed his slow pace, which after such a intense orgasm actually felt lovely. His kisses were sweet and lingering, his smile returned as he looked down at me fondly. I felt like my skin was glowing, from the sex, from his stare, from the heat in the room. The way he went from intense control to sweet affection felt intrinsically right and aroused every part of me: body, mind, and spirit.

He continued to thrust and thrust, dragging every inch of himself along the walls of my pussy, stroking my g-spot with every pass. The tension built in my center once more until the slow friction of his pace became irksome yet again.

Mason sensed this, since I made no effort to mask it, and slowed down even more. His ragged breath was on my throat and then moist in my ear. "Ask me nicely, baby girl."

In the ring, I punched in the nose for calling me that, but naked in his bed, his cock buried in the wet heat of my pussy, it made me arch my back and cry out with pleasure. "Please, please make me come."

"I don't think so." He came up to his knees, my hips elevated, and my legs draped over his massive thighs. He ceased fucking me as he held me there and I whined like a child. "Do it yourself."

Finally free to move against him, I used every ounce of strength I had left to jerk my hips upwards and impale myself on his dick. He let out a low groan of pleasure and brought one hand under my ass to help me along. Keeping my eyes on his and lifting to fuck him from the bottom, I brought a hand forward to rub furiously over my clit.

The sight of me touching myself moved something in Mason and he growled while I could see him resisting the urge to fuck into me or kiss me or pinch my nipples or lick my skin, anything. Instead, he remained still and I did the work, thrusting up, rubbing my clit, gasping for breath. My free hand came to one of my breasts and pinched a nipple between thumb and forefinger. He bit his lip and continued to just watch me.

Muttering his name, I was so close. Even though I was doing the heavy lifting, his breathing was strangled when he said, "Tell me you're gonna come."

"I'm gonna come. I'm gonna come so hard all over your dick."

"Yeah, yeah, baby girl. Fuck that dick. Just like that. Don't stop. I'm gonna come, but only after you."

"Ugh, yes, yes, yes, yes...Mason!" I came, my hips grinding against his, a finger under the hood of my clit, my head snapping back, my entire body undulating off the mattress. As I shuddered and my hips lost strength, Mason dropped down with one hand on the bed and thrust deeply just a few times before he came as well, his cock pulsating in my still trembling pussy.

I let him collapse his weight on me for just a moment, until I jabbed him the ribs to get him to move so I could, finally, take a decent breath. He laughed, but also removed his bulk from on top of me.

For several minutes, labored breathing was the only sign of life in the room. When I looked over at him, he was grinning with sleepy eyes.

A calloused finger brushed my bangs aside and he said, "You know, you didn't look at me when you came the last time."

I choked out a laugh. "Yeah, well, shit happens."

"When I set rules, I expect you to follow them."

Incredulous, I raised an eyebrow at him. He was smiling, but this motherfucker was serious. I had slept with bossy men, domineering men, dominating men, but never one this pompous and so...fucking sexy. Playing along seemed like the most pleasureable option, so I posed, "What are you gonna do? Punish me?"

His green eyes reflected nothing but naughtiness and I was nearly panting at that the thought of his retaliation. He took my hand and ran his tongue delicately over the pads of my fingers in act so simple and yet so arousing. I began to wonder if Mason had a thing about hands since he was perpetually putting his fingers in my mouth, or mine in his. "Maybe tomorrow. I have other things in mind right now." He playfully smacked my bare ass. "Now, go get me some cookies, woman."

"Not a fucking chance in hell, asshole."

He rolled back on top of me and I reveled in how his immensity made me feel so small. As he kissed me he mumbled contentedly, "Mmm, now that's my baby girl."