Alec and Brent circled each other, waiting for the other to make a move. Both were dancing on their feet, their red and black boxing gloves held high to block and their eyes were locked on each other. They were almost the same height, the same build, the same look, in identical red and black boxer shorts. The only visual difference was that Alec looked more northern European, whereas Brent had a touch of Italian in him. Just a touch.
They belonged to the same local boxing club, and this morning they were warming up with each other, taking time to learn each other’s styles and moves. Around and around they circled until Alec went on the offensive and made a jab for Brent’s right temple. Brent blocked and returned fire with uppercut to Alec’s jaw. He was fast but Alec jerked back just in time and dodged to the left. This let him tag Brent’s ear with modest force, but Brent recovered quickly and they went back to circling.
This time Brent moved first. He did a feint punch straight to the nose, and as Alec went to block it, Brent slammed his fist into Alec’s six-pack stomach. The belly tensed as it absorbed the impact and Alec staggered a bit. While he was trying to recover his breath, Brent closed in for the kill. He roundhoused to Alec’s left jaw and followed up with another belly-hit. Alec went down. But as he dropped to his knees, as a small revenge, he launched his fat glove into Brent’s red-clad crotch. Both were wearing cups, of course, but it caught Brent by surprise and he actually laughed a little.
“Hey, nice shot, bro. Good thing I’m protected.”
Alec looked up, a bead of salty sweat dripping into his eye and stinging. “Yeah, well, I had to get something back.”
Both of them got back up and their sparring continued. For an hour they went back and forth, shots, punches, jabs, slams, until they were both exhausted. Wrapping it up, they headed to the showers. Stripped down and naked they stood side by side and lathered themselves up, their hard bodies glistening with soap.
“Alec?” said Brent softly.
“Have you, you know, ever thought about sparring without a cup?”
“Mebbe. Why? You like getting racked?” Alec was soaping up his hair, and a stream of little bubbles were dripping down his chest and off the tip of his dick.
As if. But, you know, it would make sparring hard-core. Extreme. I know you like that. I keep hearing you bitch about sissy fighting.” Brent was subtle about his hook, framing it in terms he knew Alec would appreciate.
There was a long pause. Alec was lathering his loose balls and Brent was cleaning his crack.
“Ok. You and me. Naked boxing, anything goes. Tomorrow night.”
Brent grinned to himself, but outwardly just grunted. He knew he was the better boxer and the thought of trading nut shots with Alec was exciting.
Skip to the next night – they were alone, in the ring, both naked except their gloves and boots. Each was ready to both give and receive anything the other had to offer, but really Alec was there for the added danger, while Brent was there to take a shot at Alec’s manhood. His ample manhood.
Alec started out with a volley of hits to his naked opponent, but Brent had little difficulty blocking them. He returned the moves with a kick to Alec’s side. The kick knocked him to the side causing his package to flop about, but it didn’t stop Alec. He took more potshots at his opponent. Brent just dodged and wove, his own loose balls swinging with the moves. He was going to let Alec wear himself out.
Eventually Alec did tire from chasing his wily adversary, and when he could see the fatigue in his opponent’s eyes, Brent moved in for the kill. He launched a flurry of brutal hits to Alec’s handsome face and while he was occupied with blocking, Brent slammed his foot deep into Alec’s balls. Alec coughed. Brent kicked them again. And then again. Alec groaned.
Brent let him catch his breath, then the two of them circled again, but now Alec was a bit wobbly. With a swift double punch to Alec’s chest, Brent drove his assailant to the ropes. Once there, Brent peppered Alec with blows until all the man could do was shield himself. This left his legs open and Brent stepped between them to ram his knees deep in is opponents groin. Slam after slam of hard knee bone into soft nut flesh. Despite his macho attitude, Alec didn’t seem to be able to do much about it, and he started to drool slightly as his balls took a pounding. He couldn’t back up any further into the ropes, and he wasn’t able to stop the relentless ball mangling happening between his own legs.
WHAM WHAM WHAM. Brent kept pile driving his knee into where Alec “lived”. He knew he had the upper hand and was enjoying it immensely. Alec cried out and Brent let him go, a pile of quivering muscle curled into a ball at the foot of the ropes. Brent gave him some time to recover. Eventually Alec lurched back up and signaled that the fight should continue. Brent grinned. He stayed out of Alec’s reach as he “danced like a butterfly”. Alec took a wild haymaker swing and left himself overextended. Brent ducked and launched himself into Alec, ramming his head into the man’s chest. Alec let out an “Ooof” and fell backwards on his ass, his knees open. Brent fell between those knees and rammed his glove into the soft flesh hanging between them. Two ripe balls were blasted by Brent’s fist – about 20 quick shots in all. Alec tried to punch Brent off him, but the groin hits were too much of a distraction. When Brent tired of that position he stood up and danced away.
“Common’ Alec. I know you can last longer than this.”
Alec glared up at his opponent and gritted his teeth. His balls felt like mush, but he knew he’d never live it down if he quit only fifteen minutes into a session. With one glove covering his nuts, he got back up and tried to get back into the fighting groove. Brent just had a little smile. He wasn’t even winded.
Brent made a few fake kicks and hits to Alec’s groin, and the man flinched and went to protect them each time, this left his head open, and Brent punished him for it. He delivered several hard hits to the side of Alec’s head and there was a slow response to protect it. Time to “sting like a bee”: six punches to washboard abs, then one big punch to Alec’s unprotected balls. Alec went down like a ton of bricks.
“You got me,” he croaked. “We’re done.”
Brent shrugged nonchalantly. “OK. Here, lean on me.” He helped Alec limp to the shower, and didn’t even seem to mind it as Brent gently washed him off, rubbing soap and shampoo on him, and gently kneading his genitals clean. When they were dressing, Brent just tossed it out there.
“So, you up for doing this again? Or is it back to regular ‘sissy’ boxing.”
“I don’t back down from a fight, man.” Alec glowered.
“Good, then I’ll see you next week, same time, same place. No cup, no shorts, no mercy.” Brent smiled smugly.
Alec wanted to say no, but there was a lot he could learn about boxing from Brent.
“OK. See you next week.”
As Brent was leaving he heard Alec shout, “You’re not Mohammad Ali, you know!”
Brent just smiled to himself and let the door close behind him.