Pussy Worship!

Lefty Lumaban kept her belt. The undefeated bantamweight cut through the ring lights, sweat and motion blur, now back in their apartment while her girlfriend Alexandria peeled off a silk robe. Alexis Texas was all curves and long blond hair, and tonight she walked straight to the middle of the room and bent at the waist, hips high, showing every plush inch of her ass like a gift she knew Lefty couldn’t refuse. She looked back once, smile half wicked, half proud, and the boxer answered with hungry hands. Lefty sank to her knees right there on the hardwood and buried her face between those cheeks, tongue working slow then hard, licking, pressing, tasting deep while Alexis pushed back, moaning openly. Hours disappeared that way. When Alexis could barely stand, she turned, drew Lefty up, and pushed her onto the couch. They switched places—Lefty spread, Alexis diving in, tasting the salt on her girlfriend’s skin, sucking until the boxer’s thighs shook. They traded again and again, mouths wet, breathing rough, until fingers followed: two hands slick, pressing inside each other, finding that slick heat and stroking fast and steady. Alexis curled her fingers just right and Lefty came hard, champion’s body clenching around her, voice breaking on the older woman’s name.