BOXERDADDY: My First Boxing Match W/DADDY
from
Recon News
13 July 2020
BOXERDADDY is a New York based fetishist, writer and author of The Pugilist: Erotic boxing adventures and The Pugilist: Other erotic boxing tales. Boxerdaddy is also one of the founding fathers of ONYX (NY/North East. ONYX is an organisation that supports ethnic and racial diversity in the gay leather community. For over 24 years, the organisation has worked to empower gay men of colour and allies providing education about the community, safe practices and history. Here he shares one of his erotic boxing tales:
Today is the day! I can't believe it's finally here. I've been dreaming about this moment for as long as I can remember, ever since I was twelve years old and I saw two half naked muscular men on TV winging punches at one another. Just thinking about being geared up in a boxing ring, about to face off against my Daddy, like that fight, filled me with so much excitement that I felt I would explode.
Daddy is the epitome of a boxer in prime physical condition. Standing 6'2," and weighing 190 pounds, his three-percent body fat only accentuated the sinewy layer of hardened muscle under his taut caramel skin. His face was covered in smooth skin that would make a runway model jealous, but the military contoured jaw looked strong enough to withstand missile strikes at close range. His thick furrowed eyebrows sat atop a pair of definitively seasoned eyes that showed the multitude of battles he had fought up to this point in life. To say he looked intimidating was the understatement of the century.
All of my actions thus far today felt like an out of body experience, as if I was just watching whilst someone remotely controlling my actions. By the time I reached his place, I was sweating. Small shivers of anticipation raced down my spine, my mouth was dry, and my hands moved as if they belonged to someone else. How do humans' function like this? I pulled myself together and rang the doorbell. I was so lost in thought; I didn't even notice the door open in front of me. Standing there, in tight fitting sweatpants that showed the bulging outline of his manhood, Daddy towered over me before stepping aside to allow me in. My body jumpstarted of its own accord and I moved forward as if on autopilot. Who's driving? My next fully cognizant thought was of me standing in the ring dressed in boxing trunks, boots, and gloves, awaiting the bell to start the round. How did I get here? My body was trembling, but my boyhood was rock-hard with anticipation.
Daddy climbed into the ring across from me wearing his signature yellow trunks with black stripe down the side. His yellow leather boots matched his trunks and gloves. And the words "Boxer Daddy" inscribed on his fists gave his gear the perfect personal touch.
DING!
The moment he stepped back to his corner, the bell rang. We both bounced out of our corners toward one another.
BAM! BAM!
Two stiff jabs slam into my face, breaking me out of my thoughts. I never even saw him move his arm. I'm thankful for my mouthguard, or I might be missing teeth already. His body moves rhythmically in front of me, ready to strike. I throw a jab at him, but he's out of the way before my fist travels half the distance. He's so fast! I throw again, and still, hit nothing but air.
Daddy smiles, revealing a yellow mouthguard. I want to smile back, but a shiver runs down my spine, a split-second before a one-two lands on my jaw.
BAM! BAM!
My head snaps back hard, and I momentarily wonder where I'm at. Just as my thoughts start to focus, a left hook rocks my head to the side. That punch found the same spot the first two found and my knees buckle. WHOA! I don't think he was even trying to punch hard, but that hurt. He steps to my left, and rams a right cross against my jaw. I feel it down to the back of my heels as my equilibrium adjusts to keep me upright. Mustering a portion of my strength, I rush back at him wildly, and put three punches behind it, but he blocks everything I throw as if he knows what I'm going to do. How is that possible?
The moment my volley ends, he rips an uppercut straight up through my guard. I glimpse the ceiling, noticing a few cracks along the way just before a left and right hook swagger my head back and forth. I stumble and catch myself just as a body shot slams into my gut, knocking the wind out of me. And just like that, my body won't respond. Daddy takes control, forcing my chin into the air with another uppercut. The leather on the glove of his right cross molds to my face before knocking me to the ropes. He gives chase, and somehow, I manage to bring my guard up, but he switches targets and blasts the air from my lungs once more. I feel his fist sink deep into my lower region with a wicked thump. Bile splashes up into the back of my throat, making me want to puke and cry at the same time. I manage to lock eyes with him, and there's a deep, all-consuming lust in his gaze. I feel like an ice cube in hell. In spite of the pain, my cock is still rigidly erect. I'm an open target as Daddy blasts my chin with crisp punches knocking my head every which way. Am I still on my feet? I feel precum run down my leg.
When my senses return, it's hard to see him. One of my eyes is swelling shut. My right hand gathers what little energy I can muster and instinctively fire. He disappears from view at the last instant. I don't have to wonder where he went as two heavy hooks dig into my ribs. I drop like a rock, but he catches me in mid-air. Tossing me back against the ropes, he batters my face into a bloody mess. There's a brief pause, then I glimpse his right hand in the distance a split second before there was a pinch of pain on my jaw, then nothing.
I'm at the bathhouse and a hot leatherman walks into my room. Wearing a Leatherman's cap, left arm band, wrist gauntlets and bulldog harness with huge pecs that bulge beneath the leather straps. He stands over me like a monolith of power. I want him to take me and he does. Lifting me up with ease he manhandles me onto a "Fucking" bench with my ass pointed into the air. He's pounding my ass hard before I even know he's inside. His strong muscular hands grip my sides holding me in place preventing me from moving anywhere. He bangs my fuck hole with definitive strokes allowing me to feel the power of his thrusts. Then he grows inside of me. The head of his dick makes a fist and punches my prostate igniting fires within. My dream becomes reality as I find myself laying across the middle rope with Boxer Daddy deep inside me pummeling my ass the way he beat me down in the ring. I can't tell how big he is but his long strokes feel like fourteen inches in length. That can't be possible. But my synapses feel like they're on fire during every shove. I want to scream but can't, I want to move but remain and I want him to stop but I really want him to continue forever. He's switching up his rhythm and it's messing with my head. Just when I think I can't get enough he grips my shoulders and lifts me into a standing position. Guiding me to the ring turnbuckle he presses me into it. Immediately I pull back from the cold leather but the furnace of heat coming off his body warms me from my back to my stomach in no time. Wrapping his arms around me envelopes me in a blanket of icy/hot warmth that relaxes my entire body.
He spreads my legs and gets lower while fucking me upward into the turnbuckle. Using his entire body, he impales me with his dick. I'm unable to move as he forces all of his manhood inside of me. Pulling back till he nearly comes out he pushes all of his cock in me. It feels like a metal pipe two feet long. Somehow, he manages to grip my nipples and begins to play with them. I moan and melt into his grip. It feels like he grows an extra inch and returns to punching my prostate. I moan uncontrollably, which stimulates him even more. Before long it becomes sexual tortured ecstasy and I don't think I can handle any more.
Daddy's babymaker expands even further as it becomes impossibly rigid hard. His breathing becomes shallow and his hot cum splashes over my p-spot like hot lava. I climax seconds later without even touching myself as I convulse uncontrollably. Who is this man that he can do this to me? We remain embraced for ten minutes as our convulsions subside.
When he finally releases me, I collapse in his strong arms as he lowers us both to the canvas. I feel safe, complete and at peace. Not that I have the strength to do anything. I can't imagine myself being anywhere else.
"WOW! That was some fight Daddy. How did I do?"
"Not bad, but you have to make it past round two for my final decision."
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