Cage Match

Chapter One

I woke up hard, and was running way too late to do anything about it- what a start to the day. I stuffed my boner into my boxers, buttoning my jeans as I shuffled my feet into my boots. I had just enough thought to grab my gym clothes and a banana, and then was literally running out the door to catch the next bus to work. I rode with my gym bag on my lap, desperately trying to think of literally anything other than the throbbing in my pants. I managed to get myself under control by the time I walked into work, surprised that I was only 15 minutes late.

"Thanks for showing up," a musical voice said from behind me. Jenna. Delicious curves, blonde hair, the most kissable lips. Tits for absolute days. My cock threatened to make another stiff appearance as I met her eyes, prompting me to issue her a quick wave before ducking into the break room. I've never seen her naked- hell, we've never even been on a date- but she runs through my mind as often as any celebrity crush. I took a deep breath, adjusting my still twitching cock in my boxers as I went back out to the floor to say a proper hello.

We have worked the same retail job for the last year or so. This isn't my forever gig, it's just something I do to pay the bills while my MMA career takes off. I have a good overall ranking in the region and am training for a larger competition at the end of the month that has the potential to elevate my career to the next level. I have been pretty obsessive with spending time at the gym, meeting my coach for weight and agility training or sparring almost every day of the week. It doesn't leave me a lot of time for dating, but I've made my peace with it. I will date later, once I get in a better position to achieve my dreams.

The musical voice returned in the same joking tone. "Late night?" she asked, a smile dancing across her lips.

"Hardly," I scoffed, "just hit snooze too many times I guess." Our boss gave us marching orders for the morning, with Jenna and I being paired together to unload some inventory in the back. We spent the day flirting and working, me tousling her long blonde hair and her not missing a chance to punch my arm or touch my shoulder to steady herself on the ladder. Every time she reached over her head, her shirt rode up a bit to show a toned stomach. When she bent over, I could've gotten lost in her cleavage. Every time I looked at her or caught a whiff of her flowery perfume my cock twitched, reminding me of my failure to provide it with relief this morning. I was thinking about how I might have to spend part of my break in the washroom taking care of things when her voice broke my daydream.

"So how's the whole fighting thing going?" she asked. I occasionally talked to her about my upcoming fights, or PBs that I achieved in the gym. She always listened with interest, though I was unclear whether it was genuine or just an excuse to flirt. In truth, I guess I didn't much care.

"It's going well," I replied, debating on how much I should share. It was something I could go on about forever, but she likely didn't want to hear every single detail. "Lots of time in the gym- I have a few big fights coming up toward the end of the month, and I want to make sure I'm ready," I said. She giggled, though I didn't think I had said anything particularly funny. "What?" I asked, suddenly self-conscious.

"Oh, nothing," she said, putting her hand on my arm reassuringly, "it's just that I can't at all picture you beating the shit out of someone. You seem so...nice," she finished, her eyes sparkling.

"It isn't really beating the shit out of someone," I qualified, "there's a lot of technique and strategy involved. More than just a bar fight." I hoped that I didn't come across as defensive, but I hated it when people compared my passion for MMA with aimless aggression.

"No, of course," she said quickly, "I can tell that a lot goes into it, just with the amount of time you spend at the gym." She playfully squeezed my bicep, as if to make her point. "It would be cool to see you in action sometime," she said tentatively, "if you don't mind being watched."

I looked at her then, trying to gauge her sincerity. "I don't mind," I said, trying to muster some modicum of nonchalance, "ill text you the address of the gym- you can come by anytime." She smiled at the invite, and I tried to ignore the butterflies in my stomach- and my god damn twitching cock. I really had to do something about that.

My afternoon break seemed like the perfect time to relieve some tension. I went to the bathroom, armed with the image of Jenna laying in the sun on the picnic table outside at lunch. I thought of about a million different ways I could fuck her on that table, all the while she was talking about who knows what. It's not that I don't care about what she has to say- she's actually really funny and cool- but I find it impossible to listen when she's laying on her stomach, perfect ass just begging to be grabbed.

I started stroking my cock, thinking about what it would feel like to cup her tits, feeling her nipples through her shirt. I was hard again in an instant, my cock already dripping precum. I thought about her perfect mouth, and how it would feel wrapped around my cock. While she was laying on the picnic table, I so easily could have pulled her pants down, slipping my cock into her tight pussy. My hands on her hips, setting the pace as I fucked her harder and harder. I stroked my cock at the pace that I wanted to fuck her, feeling my balls tighten. It was then that my boss knocked on the door. Talk about a mood killer.

"Yep, just a second!" I called, trying really hard not to scream in frustration and need. Sure, sometimes I edged myself for fun, but that was a sick fucking joke. I realized that I wouldn't be able to finish with my boss waiting to use the washroom, so I focused instead on softening my cock (again). I felt like I owed it a thousand apologies, and made a mental note to watch some good porn after the gym- have a proper orgasm. It was the least I could do after a day of torture.

The rest of the day passed without incident; before I knew it (we were done for the day, and I was about to leave for the gym. "Have a good night!" Jenna said, looking up at me through her lashes.

"Bye," I said lamely, trying (and failing) not to look down her shirt. All of a sudden her tits pressed into me, and I felt her arms around my neck. Her lips found mine, swallowing what would have been a sound of surprise. My body finally caught up, and I leaned into the kiss. Her lips tasted sweet, her tongue tentatively dancing with mine as she deepened the kiss. I felt her fingers in my hair, and wrapped my arms around her waist to pull her closer to me. She felt amazing, and my surprise quickly gave way to excitement. That pesky boner was back, and I grinded into her waist as I kissed her back. We finally broke apart, both breathing heavy. She looked up at me, a smile dancing across her perfect lips.

"See you tomorrow," she breathed, turning and swinging her hips as she walked away.

Chapter Two

I made it to the gym in a complete fog, thinking of little other than how amazing Jenna's kiss felt. I changed hastily into my spandex shorts, my cock continuing to remind me how I had neglected it all day. I was beginning to become really concerned about some sort of boner-induced stroke if I didn't have an orgasm soon. I thought about rubbing one out before I worked out, but figured the need would fuel me into a better performance. The gym was actually much emptier than usual, an observation that I should've made much earlier. Before long I was the only one there, but was so focused on my workout that I didn't realize it. It wasn't until the lights were turned on and off that I snapped out of my focused sweat to take in my surroundings. The gym was quiet, the absence of equipment noise and heavy breathing now very obvious. The octagon was empty, as were the practice mats- not a single soul was sparring. I wondered briefly if I was dreaming, a thought that I became more and more sure of as I saw a dark figure walking toward me.

Demi fucking Lovato.

I had to do a double take, shaking my head to make sure I wasn't hallucinating. What was she doing here? In the gym that I go to? It didn't make sense. Why she was in front of me stopped mattering at about the time I got a good look at her- at that point literally nothing mattered to me anymore. She was a goddess- long dark hair, toned arms, ample tits tightly stuffed into a sports bra. Her hips were wide-set, transitioning into absolutely huge thighs, the likes of which could hold or crush someone in a snap. I swallowed hard, completely unable to speak, or move.

"You sure don't know how to take a hint," she said, her voice throaty and deep. I blinked at her impotently, my voice gone, maybe forever. "Hello? Anyone home? Do you notice the gym is empty? I bought it out for the night- I like to spar alone, without the hassle of onlookers and autographs. Alone, meaning...without you here." She looked me up and down, hands on her hips, waiting on an answer.

I finally managed to choke out a few words- something along the lines of "Uhhh, sorry, I didn't know." I couldn't stop looking at her- the way her right hip jutted out, or the piece of hair that got caught in her lip gloss as she scoffed at me.

"Well, off you go," she said dismissively, turning on her heel.

To this day I have no idea what came over me- temporary insanity, emboldened perhaps by Jenna's earlier kiss and maybe too much blood in my cock. At any rate, before I had a chance to consider the outcome, I heard my voice say, "Make me."

She stopped, her ass jutting out of her skin-tight booty shorts as she turned on her heel. "Excuse me?" she said, her voice incredulous. She faced me, squaring her muscular shoulders. One look at her and I completely lost my nerve.

"Sorry, I'm sorry...Demi...I don't know what came over me. Of course I'll leave," I said sheepishly. I couldn't believe that I had spoken to one of my idols (not to mention insane crushes) like that- what was my problem?!

She smirked, running her tongue over her teeth as she considered me. "My sparring partner isn't here yet, and you seem...feisty. I'll tell you what- let's spar. If you manage to stay standing, you can stay- when I pin you, you'll get the hell out of here and leave me to work out in peace. Deal?"

I couldn't believe my luck- was Demi Lovato actually inviting me to spar with her? Demi Lovato, blue belt in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, one of the hottest women on the planet- she wanted to spar with me? I must not have answered, because she tapped her bare foot on the mat. "Well?" she asked.

"Y-yes," I stammered, trying to collect myself. I stood up taller, squaring my shoulders like hers. "Yes, I'll spar. And I will enjoy the hell out of beating you," I said, far more confidently than I felt.

Chapter Three

We met in the octagon, each of us stopping to get our gear on. I jumped on the balls of my feet a few times, relaxing my arms as I got the blood flowing. She did the same, her thighs and ass flexing as she did a few deep squats. I could feel my cock pulse as I watched her, and begged my body to focus on the task at hand. It was such a privilege to spar with her, and I wanted to be competitive- I wanted to impress her. She set the timer. "A win is a pin," she reminded me, her voice echoing in the empty gym. We squared up, my heart racing as I tried to focus my mind. She nodded, and we began our dance.

We circled each other, both light on our feet as we sized up our competition. She moved first, a quick jab at my shoulder to test my reflexes. I dodged her, dipping down for my fist to connect with her side. She turned at the last minute, my knuckles just grazing her ribs. We both retreated, plotting our next moves. I had her on height, and I was slightly more agile than her. She had me beat on balance, though, and when a roundhouse kick made contact with my chest, I knew that she was a match in strength. As I went for an overhand, she slipped under my arm and delivered one hell of an uppercut to my jaw. I staggered back, tasting blood, seeing a smirk across her lips. I landed a couple of good punches after that, throwing off her flow enough that she had to take a step back. I couldn't ignore the electricity that ran through me every time we connected- and it wasn't just from the pain of the blow. We had both broken a sweat, our breathing becoming more laboured as we jabbed and danced back and forth, trying to catch the other person off guard.

Without warning, she roundkicked me right in the stomach. I staggered back a few paces, trying to catch my breath. She lunged at me again, trying to lower her body to take me out at the waist, but instead giving me a prime opportunity to get behind her. While she was bent over, still propelling forward, I grabbed onto her back, wrapping my arms around her neck in a choke hold. I outsized her, but her technique was perfect- she waited for me to take a breath, twisting around my planted legs and using the side of the octagon to help her slide out of my grasp.

She planted her leg opposite mind and levelled me on the ground in one fluid motion. She knocked the wind out of me as she tried to pin me, but my lanky frame was able to bend away from her. I fought to get on top of her, looking for a vulnerability to exploit to get her in a pinnable position. She got a couple of good kicks in, but I stayed out of the grasp of her strong thighs. I was able to land an uppercut from underneath her, causing her to stagger off of me. I stood up just as the bell rang.

I let out a whoop of victory, but quickly swallowed it as I heard a slow clapping. I looked at Demi, but she was standing across from me, a look of frustrated contempt on her face. My eyes darted around the gym to find the source of the clapping, until they landed on none other than Ronda Rousey. I blinked a few times, not willing to believe my eyes. Blonde hair, perfect curvy body, wicked smile- yep, that was her. "That is your sparring partner?" I asked Demi through heavy breath. She said nothing, rolling her eyes and removing her gear.

"Bravo!" Ronda shouted from the floor outside the octagon. "That was really something. You've lost your edge, Demi- couldn't even pin an amateur," she chided. "Shit, I came for some competition, but I guess I might as well have stayed at home," she continued, her eyes sparkling. She was dressed similar to Demi, with a sports bra and booty shorts. She wasn't quite as thick as Demi, but she was raw muscle- definitely not to be fucked with.

"Oh, shove it, Ronda," Demi said, clearly pissed that she didn't pin me. I found a smug smile dancing across my lips.

"I told you I'd enjoy winning," I told her, Ronda's attitude contagious.

"Shut up, amateur," they both said together. My smugness faltered.

"Seriously, though, that was pathetic," Ronda pressed. Demi was obviously agitated, throwing her gear on the floor as she exited the octagon. I found myself rooted in place, both turned on and terrified at the catfight below me.

"Fuck off, Ronda, he's stronger than he looks," Demi allowed, the compliment not lost on me. Ronda got in Demi's face, her face a sneer.

"Yes, the lanky amateur looks impossible to beat," she said sarcastically. Demi slapped her.

"Hey," I said, more out of shock than principle- Ronda could obviously handle herself.

"Stay out of it, amateur," Ronda said through her teeth. "Looks like I hit a nerve," she said as she flexed her jaw where Demi's palm had connected. "

It's not like you could do better," Demi said heatedly. "We both know you're here because you're out of practice. That so called amateur would wipe the floor with you," she said, her earlier confident swagger returning.

"Oh, yah?" Ronda said, sizing me up for the first time. "What do you think, amateur? Think you can take me?" I faltered, but only slightly. "

There's only one way to find out. Come see if you can do what Demi couldn't," I said with confidence that I didn't entirely feel.

Chapter Four

"Let's see what you're made of, hot shot," Ronda said as we squared up. Demi started the timer, and Ronda caught me off-guard with an immediate lunge. Her uppercut connected with my chin, sending my head back and rattling my teeth around my mouthguard. "You're not sparring with Demi anymore," she said, her jab meant for both of us, "let's see what you've got." I shook off her hit, studying the way she moved. She was slightly more compact than Demi, but her muscles were tightly wound beneath the tight spandex that covered precious little of her body. Every hit she landed rippled through me, her slightly quicker speed proving to be a challenge for me to anticipate.

I landed a couple of good kicks to her ribs, throwing her off balance enough to get her on the ground. I got on top of her, wrapping my legs around her solid core in an attempt to pin her. She wiggled under me, taking advantage of the momentary distraction that her tits created to flip me onto my back. She was now on top of me, fighting to wrap her limbs around me to render me immobile. She managed to get me on my side, her leg wrapped around my neck. Though she was smaller than me in height, those muscular legs had me struggling to get free. My hands clawed at her legs and torso, trying to buck her off.

I could feel myself getting tired, losing momentum as I tried to find a way out of the pin. Ronda's grip on me tightened, her arms wrapping around me and her legs tightening around my neck. She had me, and I knew it. I could feel myself going numb, and was just about to call it when the timer sounded.

Talk about saved by the bell.

Ronda reluctantly released me, rolling her eyes at Demi's cheers. "Not as easy as you thought, eh? Told you he was strong," she said, her voice much more animated in the face of Ronda's loss as compared to her own.

"Oh, please- I had him, and you know it," Ronda said, rolling her eyes. "And you know it too," she said to me, her tone menacing. I took a deep breath, soaking in my unlikely victory. I had just withstood the attacks of two of my absolute idols. Ronda was right, of course- she had me- but I didn't have to admit it. I secretly wondered if Demi called the timer a few seconds early, but of course didn't question it. I was still standing, and I was feeling invincible.

"And he had already gone one round with me," Demi continued, needling Ronda's already clear frustration. "I tired him out for you, it should've been an easy win," she teased.

Ronda left the octagon, throwing her mouthguard and gloves down just as Demi had done. "Whatever, it's a waste of time sparring with an amateur anyway," she said, almost pouting. "I didn't come here to fight him- I came here to kick your ass," she said with a smile, the women's' friendship starting to shine through their bickering. Demi walked over to Ronda, embracing her in the hug of an old friend. Both women were slightly sweaty from their rounds with me, but didn't hesitate in embracing each other.

"Fucking amateurs," Demi said, both of them turning back to me.

I stood in the octagon still, basking in my victories. When I felt both women turn their attention to me, it was all I could do not to cower. "What should we do with him?" Ronda asked Demi.

"Well, I did tell him that if I couldn't pin him he could stay, so we can't get rid of him," she mused, a smile playing across her lips. "I kind of want to double team him- teach him a lesson and win back our pride," she joked, making Ronda laugh.

"That was hella frustrating," Ronda agreed, "he kind of has it coming."

They both approached the octagon, leaving their gear behind. I was frozen in place, my nerves and adrenaline crash finally getting the better of me. "You think you can take both of us?" Ronda taunted, her and Demi flanking me on either side.