Blacked Wives: Big Black Boxer

“Janie, you wouldn’t believe how much of a release it is. Like sex, but kind of better, almost.”

Janie smiled but didn’t reply, forking a big bite of salad into her mouth so she wouldn’t have to say no, thank you, politely. Again. Thankfully, Kerry jumped in.

“Better than sex? Maybe you’re just not having good sex.”

Melissa didn’t take the bait. “Not all of us can have hot Argentinian boyfriends we met while on sabbatical for a biography project, Kerry. For my part, I’m stuck with George.”

Kerry grinned and raised her yogurt cup to toast Melissa’s comment. But Melissa wasn’t to be deterred.

“Seriously, Janie, I know you’ve got some pent-up something in you.” Kerry flashed her a warning look and she chose her next words carefully.

“Don’t you want to get all mad and hot and sweaty and hit things?”

“Not remotely,” Janie replied, having finished her big bite. “I happen to like getting up and doing a few sun salutations. Never had the urge to start hitting things.”

“That’s why you go after school, when you want to throttle some freshman for fucking up MLA format again. I swear these kids are getting dumber, there are websites that can do this shit for them.”

Janie laughed. “Imagine if you actually had to teach freshmen this year.”

“Hey,” Melissa said indignantly. “I did my time.”

“I know, I know,” Janie replied. “But still,” she added. “Not interested in hitting things. Thanks though.”

“It’s self-defense! Also,” she said casually, “The instructor is really, really hot.”

“Ah, there it is.”

“How hot are we talking?” Kerry cocked her head to the side.

“Scale of George to your Argentinian?”

“Wrong scale. He’s in another league.”

Kerry raised her eyebrows. “Janie, I think you’re going to have to go and see what she’s talking about.”

Janie sat and let the women prod and encourage her for a few minutes more before finally rolling her eyes skyward and holding up her hands. “Okay, okay, I’ll go. Today?”

Melissa’s eyes gleamed. “Yes! And yes. I’ll grab you from your afternoon class.”

A couple hours later, Melissa’s small blue Toyota rolled up to the English building and Janie slid in, her workout backpack on her lap. A short fifteen minute drive later, where the fall countryside drifted by in a haze of oranges and reds, they came to a dilapidated little garage.

Janie raised her eyebrows. “You didn’t join a cult and just need to find someone to sacrifice did you?”

“Oh, shut up, it’s just not a yoga studio. C’mon.”

They entered the building and Janie relaxed. About seven other women were already there, putting their things into large, crudely-made wooden lockers, and changing out of various work attire.

“Ladies, this is Janie!” Melissa made the announcement as her shirt came off, and her generous bust made all the women who quickly turned to look, laugh and look away. “Put those away, you hog,” one of the women called. Melissa stuck her tongue out good-naturedly and began pulling her two sports bras over the offending boobs.

Janie smiled and changed quickly, her own small bust presenting no trouble or causing no ripples. She tended to slide through the cracks like that, being built as slim and willowy as she was. She definitely hadn’t been captivating enough for her last boyfriend. Her already-flat stomach tightened at that thought, and she yanked her hair back harder than necessary into a long blonde ponytail. Maybe she did need this class.

She followed the women out of the locker room into the other large room, which was probably an out garage at some point. Music blared from overhead speakers, a bass causing a very real vibration on the floor. Punching bags were spaced at generous intervals in lines and rows in the middle of the room, and the instructor’s was at the front. Still no sign of him though, she noted. She also noted the subtle-but-fierce scramble between the women to claim the bags at the front. Melissa didn’t deign to participate, selecting a bag a couple rows back and off to the side, and confident that her rack would draw the same amount of attention as if she had claimed on front-and-center.

Looking around at all of the tightly toned bodies around her, Janie hissed. “Melissa, how long have you been coming here?”

“I’m just finishing my first session, nine classes, why?”

“I feel like a waif.”

“Should have come the last three weeks I asked you.”

Janie tugged her loose hoodie back over her torso.

“You’re going to get hot,” Melissa warned. Janie ignored her and Melissa laughed. Suddenly, there was a hush that settled like a buzz, and Janie saw him for the first time. He strode out of an office tucked into the far corner of the building that she hadn’t noticed upon entering, phone in hand, tapping the volume button down as he came.

“Holy shit.”

The words escaped her before she could help herself. Melissa laughed, low and sexy behind her. “I know, it’s absurd.”

The man was dark-skinned and tawny-eyed, and there was a feline, sexy grace to his walk that made her feel like she was being watched even as he casually strolled over. Like nothing was escaping his notice even though he couldn’t possibly have been aware of all nine of them. His shoulders were rounded with rippled muscle, and his waist was narrow, his glutes full and powerful in the black workout pants that hugged his legs. He reached the instructor’s bag and there was a small but collective sigh from the assembled. He gave a patient smile—of course he was used to this sort of thing—and his eyes roamed over them, lingering on the last, unfamiliar face.

“This is Janie, my friend I’ve been telling you about,” Melissa volunteered.

“Hi, Janie. Welcome.” He smiled slowly, appreciatively? But the glimmer was gone as soon as she thought she’d spotted it. She felt confused, warm. Surely he wouldn’t find her attractive, standing as skinny and small as she was amongst all these other lean, hungry, well-muscled women? Women that he’d helped discover their muscle, their power?

The warm ups began and she found she did whatever he asked of her. Not without struggle, but she did it. His voice was dynamic and deep, cutting across the tones of the music that again blared overhead, calling out conditioning exercise moves and repetitions and giving a substantial amount of encouragement. It was gratifying to see that even the other women, as fit as they were, were tired more than halfway through, and they hadn’t even used the bags yet. During a quick interval break, Janie turned to Kerry, who was hunched over with her hands on her knees, tits spilling out of her sports bra and gleaming with sweat. She looked up and answered before Janie asked. “Now we get to hit things.”

Her prediction came true and he called for a water break. “Okay, ladies, catch your breath and hydrate well, because when you come back onto this floor, we’re throwing some punches.”

The mood shifted, became harsher and more focused. Suddenly, even though his attractiveness was still there, Janie was aware of the frustrations, the pains, the regrets, the anger in the other women. Their break ended and they filed out onto the mat again, almost grim in their unison. Melissa’s mouth was set and her eyes were the dark color they became when she thought about her son away for a weekend at his father’s house.

He began with some basic cuts, showing them how to strike and spring back, always bearing in mind the defensive, and cautioning to never let the attack take over. “Because when that happens,” he said firmly. “You lose to yourself.”

He walked amongst them as he set them repetitions, correcting a form here, observing a particularly powerful cut here. When he reached Melissa he watched for several moment before moving to Janie without comment.

“A little less force with your arm, put more of your whole body into it. Better.” He watched her intently, his eyes flickering in different colors as the slim pixie in front of him gave her punching bag a series of smacks that wouldn’t have hurt a child. He walked away without comment.

After the class all the women’s bodies drooped in exhaustion, but they buzzed with a fierce pride and camaraderie. Showers hissed, fog mingled with sweat and the door was propped open without shame to air out the locker room, because they were all in the middle of nowhere and who cared, anyway?

Janie realized that she’d left her water bottle out on the mats, and padded out to go find it. Fortunately, it was right where she’d left it, and she was about to turn back and head back in when she noticed movement in the corner of the room, behind the glass of the office. Unsure what compelled her to walk all the way over, she paused by the window and looked in, pretty sure what she was going to see and curious to see who he’d chosen. Her eyes grew wide. Melissa’s own eyes were rolled back so she couldn’t see that she was essentially looking at her friend, but it was the instructor behind her who she couldn’t tear her eyes away from. He curled around Melissa’s body like a dark secret, his hands cupping her tits as he nipped and kissed her neck, her earlobes, her back, his body pulsing along with hers. Neither of them had showered yet, making the fog creeping up the window somehow dirtier, more secretive. Melissa came in a soft shriek and a widening of her full lips into a pretty pink O, ad he followed soon after, collapsing on top of her and sending papers streaming off his desk.

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