Valentine’s Day Bout – Amanda vs. Leslie
by Fembox357

The heavy bag made a loud thumping noise as Amanda hit it. She was near the end of her workout, hair matted with sweat, body glistening with it, the tank top she wears to the gym soaked. She was a bigger woman, but pleasantly shaped, wide hips, small waist, petite, perky breasts. She stopped to rest a moment from beating on the bag to take a breath. She watched as the woman next to her put the same kind of effort into the bag. Amanda couldn’t help but watch the older woman pummel the bag.
“You’re working that bag pretty hard.” Amanda commented, sipping on some water.
“Well, it’s a good workout, and a great way to vent frustration,” replied the older woman, “name’s Leslie.”
“Amanda,” replied Amanda, “I know what you mean. I feel kind of awkward when I’m punching the bag, though.”
“Why is that?” asked Leslie.
“My husband has a thing for boxing women; I’m kind of embarrassed to talk about it.” Amanda said, uncomfortably looking around the room.
“Really?” Leslie said, in an amused tone. “My hubby is crazy about it, too, it’s just not my thing, either. You have nothing to be embarrassed about.”
The girls laughed together and got back to the bags, casually chatting with one another. The girls worked out together for the next several months, becoming better acquainted, always ending their workouts by taking turns in the gloves.
The girls went into the locker room after their workout to change, as per usual. Valentine’s Day was approaching, they had been discussing things you can get a man on Valentine’s Day that weren’t weird or tacky.
“…we could always box for them…” started Leslie, feeling Amanda out.
“Yeah, we could! That’s actually a great idea! We already have boxing gloves, thanks to our men, we’d just need to find a ring and set some rules down,” Piped Amanda.
“Want to go at it topless?” suggested Leslie, excitement building in her.
“It’s just the 4 of us, so I guess that would be fine.” Said Amanda, excitement building for her, too.
“OK, we’ll fight the weekend of Valentine’s Day, maybe we should request some days off of work to recover, too?” Leslie said, excitement in her voice.
“Yeah, maybe so, neither of us have boxed before, it might be pretty rough.” Amanda thought aloud. “OK, I’ll see you this weekend again, just leave me a text or a voice message as to when and where, I don’t want my man to know before we get to the ring.”
“Sounds good.”
The girls finished dressing, giggling excitedly about their upcoming fight, each getting more and more into it as they theorized how rough the fight would be.
Saturday came, Amanda and her husband Jon arrived at a gym.
“Where are we?” Asked Jon, confused, as Amanda had said that she was ‘taking him out’ for Valentine’s Day.
“You’ll see in a moment.” She said, barely containing her excitement. They walked into the gym to see Leslie and her man, Chris, standing next to a ring. Chris and Jon shook hands, as they had come to know each other a bit over the past few months, each knowing that the other was into women’s boxing. The girls smiled and walked into the locker room.
“Have any idea what’s going on here?” Asked Chris
“Not at all, I’m as confused as you.” Replied Jon
Meanwhile, the girls were in the locker room readying for their match. Both women stripped down to nothing, and slowly and meticulously rubbed each other down with oil, their respective curves and features highlighting as they started to glisten. Dressing up in the agreed upon attire, they were nearly ready, they needed only to tape up their fists and put their gloves on. The two women stood facing each other, having wrapped their fists, they helped each other put their tiny boxing gloves on, they stood close, their nipples stood erect, both from the chill in the locker room washing over their oil-slick bodies, and the anticipation of what was about to happen. Both girls were nervous, but determined and willing. They finished fastening each others’ gloves. They both tap them together, testing them out.
“Ready?” asked Leslie
“Ready.” stated Amanda.
The girls hugged one another tightly in a friendly hug, their nipples pressing together and sparking a thrill between them that neither would confess to. As they slid their bodies off one another, they shared a perplexed look, and turned for the ring where their men were waiting.
Jon and Chris stood there, making idle chat, waiting for their ladies to return. They heard the door of the locker room squeak open. They turned and looked at the same time, and their jaw dropped open. Both women strolled towards them, topless, in boxing attire. Amanda’s perky breasts bounced; here naturally wavy hair was moist and held back with a red sweatband. She wore white Everlast trunks with the red trim and waistband hugging her smaller waist. Her wide hips caused the trunks to ride up a bit, making them end a couple of inches below her pubic mound on her ample thighs. She wore red 6 ounce boxing gloves, and regular gym shoes with white ankle socks. Leslie was similarly bouncing; wearing a white sweatband, red trunks with white waistband and trim, red 6 ounce gloves, and regular gym shoes and ankle socks.
The ladies walked up to their respective men, and kissed them deeply. They then went to each others’ husband and did the same. The men were wildly aroused, still dumbfounded at the intensely erotic scene they were a part of.
“We are going to fight for you as your valentine’s day present,” started Amanda, a thrill shooting through her body as she recapped the agreed upon rules, “We agreed to unlimited three-minute rounds until one of us is knocked out.”
“If one of us can’t make it to our feet by the count of twenty, one of you will hoist us to our feet to keep boxing,” finished Leslie. “The other thing we agreed to is you guys can’t tend to us between rounds, you just get to watch us sweat it out, you cannot stop the fight for anything other than a knockout.”
“You realize you’re wearing illegally tiny boxing gloves, don’t you? You guys will really hurt each other in those,” observed Chris.
The women looked at their gloves and then at each other. “We didn’t like how bulky the 14 and 16 ounce gloves that you both had, so we grabbed Jon’s 6 ounce pairs, they seem to fit better,” Amanda answered.
The girls stepped through the ropes and into the ring, both walking to the center of the ring. The girls insert each others’ mouth guards, both clear, and firmly pat each others’ now loaded cheeks. They stand face to face, nipples touching gently, staring at one another, their jaws and mouth forced open into a frown by the protectors in their mouths. They glare, each getting psyched for their fight. After about a minute of stare down, both girls are ready to go, they punch gloves violently and return to their corners. Chris and Jon take seats by the bell. “DING!” The bell sounds for the first round.
The girls shuffled towards each other, their tiny gloved fists raised to their chins in what resembled a boxing stance. The inexperience showed from their footwork, neither woman was a boxer, but they were absolutely determined to fight as best they could. Amanda throws a straight jab out at Leslie’s face, snapping her head back, and causing her to stagger back a moment. Leslie winces in pain, more or less unprepared for what a punch felt like. She closes back in on Amanda, drilling Amanda’s mouth, with similar results. Both girls shake their heads to get their heads back as they circle, now, glaring at each other. They came at each other again, Amanda punching high, Leslie punching low. Leslie lands a hard hook to Amanda’s ribs, while Amanda drilled a cruel hook into Leslie’s left eye. The girls separated further from one another, Leslie staggering from the punch to her face. Amanda pressed after her, jabbing Leslie’s face twice, and then gut checking the mature woman. Leslie continued to retreat, face stinging from the punch as the skin tightens up around the affected areas. Leslie reaches the ropes, her oiled back sliding easily against the ropes. Amanda is right on top of her throwing jabs into her ribs and belly. Leslie grunts from the punches, keeping her stomach tight. She swings with a wild haymaker and catches Amanda across the face, her head snapping to one side, her legs staggering, thighs giggling a bit as she finds her footing. Leslie comes off the ropes with an uppercut to Amanda’s chest, and right cross to her small, perky breast. Amanda grunts out in pain at the attack, now backing away from Leslie, her own face stinging from Leslie’s attack. The men sat ringside and watched totally aroused, unable to make a sound yet, still stunned from what they were watch. Leslie closed on Amanda and landed a brutal hook to Amanda’s stomach, combined with a left cross to her face. Amanda lets out a cry of pain as she tumbles to the canvas. Gritting and bearing her teeth as she writhes from the punches. Jon begins to count.
1…2…3…
Hearing her husband count rouses her, not wanting to disappoint him. She climbs to her hands and knees and is up to her feet by 5. The girls raise their gloves and get ready to fight, only to be interrupted by the bell. The girls turn and head for their corners. They both sit down on their stools, glaring at one another from across the ring. Amanda rubs her stomach, and the punched areas of her face, as does Leslie. The girls facial flesh has started to redden and swell, but not to the point of disfigurement yet. Both women knew this would be a long bout, and, through some unexplained feeling, they each experienced butterflies as they looked over each others’ oil-slick bodies. The bell rang for the next round; both girls popped to their feet and moved out to meet one another.
The girls were both feeling more intense now, wading right into one another. Leslie striking first, a three-jab and hook combination to Amanda’s face. Amanda reels around, staggering into the ropes, her chubby areas wobbling delightfully as the ropes catch her, she shakes her head causing small flecks of red to appear on her. Her nose is bleeding, her lips are split and gushing forth. Amanda feels an unexplained mixture of arousal and determination. Leslie closes in on her, swinging hard at her head. Amanda ducks it and drives an uppercut square into Leslie’s nose and mouth. Leslie keels straight back, a spray of spit and blood fly through the air, her mouthguard is ejected from her slackened jaw. She crashes straight to her back, lying still for a moment, blood drooling out of her mouth and nose. Amanda retreats to the neutral corner as Chris begins to count.
1…2…3…4…5…
She hears the count, but is stunned, she turns over slowly to her stomach, reaching for her mouthguard.
6…7…8…9…10
She shoves her mouth guard back in and pulls her knees under her body, her ass now sticking up in the air, blood drooling on the canvas floor. She gets to her hands and knees and then to her feet by ten. She turns to Amanda, and raises her gloves, indicating she is ready to fight. The girls like what they see on each other, each of them, finally bloody, take to the rest of the round making it worse.
“The owners of the gym aren’t going to be happy with us,” Jon comments as the flecks of blood flying off of the girls’ faces with each punch splash to the canvas.
“No, probably not. But what a fight!” replied Chris
The girls sit back on their stools after round two, heaving, breathing hard. Their bodies have nearly washed the oil off in favor of the sweat emitting from their pores. They glared again across at each other. The girls’ mouths were bloody; their chests were adorned with drops of blood, and bloody runs. Not being able to attend to their women, Jon and Chris watched as the girls just sat there, sweating and bleeding, waiting for the chance to get back at each other. The gym was silent, save for the sound of the girls’ breathing, and the ropes flexing as they leaned on them in their corners. The bell dinged for the next round, the girls got up, and with a clap of their gloves together, they moved back into it.
Round after round, the sounds of small sweaty gloves cruelly impacting chubby flesh and hard faces echoed throughout the gym. Grunts, the occasional sound of pain followed the thumps and thuds as the girls went to work on each others’ bodies. Just about every round, they managed to knock each other down, but neither woman was willing to stay down, they kept getting up for more punishment. The fight dragged on and on, the first bit of clinching occurred in the 5th round, from an uppercut to Leslie’s face, causing her to stagger and grab onto Amanda to stay up. The girls stood clinched for a good bit of the round; bleeding all over each others’ shoulders and down each others’ backs. They appeared to whisper something in each others’ ears as they stood there in a tight clinch, nipples pressed against one another, chests heaving into each other. The men couldn’t hear what they said, though the sight of their wives in a clinch at ring center, with the lights reflecting the drench of sweat on their curvy bodies was highly satisfying. The girls would clinch a little each round, usually right after one of them got up from being knocked down. The mutual battering continued through round 5 and 6, each woman making the other look worse.
The girls stood up for round 8, their bodies dripping with sweat, both of their nipples standing erect as they danced towards each other. As they had done every round so far, they started wading into each other, whacking each others’ faces, battering ribs and kidneys. Amanda’s ribs were particularly bruised badly, having been a favorite target of Leslie’s. Their faces were swelling badly at this point; both women sought to make it worse for each other. The mutual face and body punching commenced, the echoes of the punches rang louder and louder in the empty gym, the grunts turning into shouts of pain. Leslie, in a counterattack from a missed hook drove an uppercut into Amanda’s visibly bruised ribs. Amanda cried out in pain, falling forward into her friend, into a hard clinch. This was still very early in the round, yet, and the girls stood in the middle of the ring in each others’ arms. Amanda’s eyes welled up with tears from the punch, she was slightly crying now in her friend’s arms. Their nipples brush against each other, causing each to stiffen up at the sensation. Each woman could feel the others’ breath stagger at the contact. The mutual arousal combined with the delirium from the numerous shocks to their head took hold of them; they relaxed their grip on each other and stood face to face, looking deeply into each others’ eyes. Amanda looking past Leslie’s badly swelling eyes, Leslie looking into the innocent, weeping eyes of her friend. They stared for a few seconds then slowly moved in for a kiss. Their bloody, swollen, torn up lips met and caressed one another. The light lip-kissing quickly evolved into open, wild French kissing, the girls’ bloody mouths working each other hard. Amanda’s hands immediately went to Leslie’s back, pressing the mature woman’s tits into her own, igniting a fire in both of their womanhood. Leslie responded by firmly grasping the younger woman’s ample ass, rubbing and squeezing it against her. The girls mutually moved for the corner turnbuckle, Amanda being pushed into the corner. She reflexively spread her legs, opening them wide, placing them behind the middle ropes, as she rested her ass on the turnbuckle. They look into each others’ eyes again, both aroused in the extreme, both had sexual craving written all over their faces. Leslie sucked on Amanda’s tits for a bit, causing the young woman to moan with pleasure. The straight older woman had an amazing talent for sucking tits, having supposedly never done so before. Before long, both girls were panting and moaning. They let their instincts take over; Leslie jammed her pubic mound into Amanda’s and began thrusting into her. The girls eyes widened to the size of silver dollars as the incredible rush of sapphic erotica ran through them. Amanda grabbed Leslie’s ass, causing the older woman to pump harder. The girls moaned and wailed as they fucked pussy with each other. The ring shook violently as the women moved their bodies against one another violently and vigorously, the screams of passion completely filling the gym. They climaxed, both cumming hard in their trunks, shuddering and convulsing as they came off of their sexual high, kissing and sucking each others’ bloody lips and tongues. They stayed in each others’ arms, now only the sound of panting could be heard. Amanda let her legs off the ropes and kissed her opponent again, rubbing Leslie’s breasts with her gloves. The round bell rang, and they returned to their corners, giving each other long stares as they departed each others’ arms. Each wondered how their friendship would fare after this brutal and erotic bout. The fight continued through the 9th round, both women resuming their pulping of one another, evenly beating each other up.
The bell rang for round 10, Amanda rose, her white trunks heavily stained with her blood and that of her opponent. Leslie’s white waistband was now a faded red, obviously soaked from sweat and blood spatter. The girls clapped their gloves together as they danced out to meet on another. Amanda threw a hard hook to Leslie’s swelling cheek, but she manage to deflect the punch with a defensive move of her arm, one of the very few in the fight. She countered with an uppercut to Amanda’s solar plexus, doubling the younger brunette over. With a loud roar, Leslie cocks back and lets loose with a brutal uppercut to her friend’s face. Blood and spit spray from Amanda’s mouth as she keels straight back to the canvas. Her jaw slacked loose and she spit out her bloody mouthpiece across the ring, splashing to the canvas in its own bloody puddle. She lies there still, groaning in pain. Jon, as he had done several times for his wife in this fight, began the count.
1…2…3…4…5…6…7…8…9…10…
“Come on Amanda, get up!” Jon cheered between counts. By 10, Amanda had not even begun to sit up, she very slowly started to stir.
11…12…13…14…15…16…17…18…19…20!
She could not make it to her feet; she had started to make it to her hands and knees, her head hanging low, blood drooling from her mouth to the floor, sweat dripping steadily. Her arms collapsed beneath her, causing her to lay there at 20 with her face on the mat, and her gorgeous ass in the air. Chris and Jon stood there, uncertain of what to do. Both knew the rules the girls had agreed to, but I don’t imagine either of them imagined that this match would turn into a legitimate fight. “Get me up!” growled Amanda. Chris entered the ring to help her up, he ran his hands over her beautiful ass, rubbing her pussy from behind a bit. She moaned sexually as Chris rubbed her ass and pussy, that seemed to return her wits a bit as he hoisted her to her feet. She was soaked with sweat, her body was very warm, Chris savored the sensation he got from holding Amanda in his arms for a moment, holding her up from behind, rubbing her crotch through the front of her trunks. She let her head hang back onto Chris’s shoulder, moaning as he stroked, reaching behind her over her shoulder pressing his head into her shoulder. He kissed her neck gently, bringing a smile to her face with another sexual moan. He shoved her mouth guard in as he looked back at his wife, now boiling with jealousy. Chris slid under the bottom rope and out of the way of the girls, and the match continued, with the bell ending the round shortly thereafter, the fighting continuing evenly through round 11.
Round 12 began with the ring of the bell. The semblances of their friendship were all but gone, they might still be friends outside this ring, but for now, and if they ever got in the ring again, they were enemies. Leslie was angry with Amanda, for how sexually aroused she got at the touch of her husband, and how she had accepted his advance so openly. Leslie came at Amanda quickly, determined to take the lead this round, since the last round was a bloody slugfest and ended in a draw, each knocking the other down once. She swung wildly at Amanda’s eye, hitting air as Amanda ducked and drove an uppercut into her tits. Leslie backed away groaning in pain, and Amanda came for her. Amanda looked almost like Tyson, twisting her glistening, sweat-soaked body into brutal right and left hooks, her chubby, perfect thighs and ass jiggling gently as she moved into the punches. Leslie’s kidney on her right side was badly damaged, and Amanda kept drilling it with hard punches. Leslie’s eyes were weeping tears from the stinging pain. Amanda kept up the pressure with a hook to her swollen right eye, and crushed Leslie’s face with a cruel right uppercut. A cloud of sweat ejects from her battered head, a stream of blood and spit spray Amanda as she crumples to the canvas, her mouthpiece landing nearby on the canvas. Amanda walks weakly to the neutral corner watching her opponent writhe on the floor. Leslie groans loudly as Chris begins the count over his down fighter.
1…2…3…4…5…6…7…8…9…10…
Leslie rolled around crying and groaning. She manages to get I glove over the middle rope, using every ounce of strength to pull her to her knees. The count continued,
11…12…13…14…15…
The older woman now showing her age, manages to climb the unforgiving ropes to her feet. She turns towards Amanda, blood drooling from her mouth. The younger woman’s inherent stamina is showing to be a turning point. The 53 year old bruiser meets the 30 year old slugger in the center of the ring again. Amanda, now on an adrenaline high, marches back into battle, punching the mature blonde in the face twice with jabs, combining with a hard over-handed punch to Leslie’s eye. The older woman crumbles to the mat again, on her side, gloves over her head, body jerking as she cries from the pain. She rolls over to her back as Chris starts to count again.
1…2…3…4…5…6…7…8…9…
She stirs, grabbing the middle rope again, grimacing hard, and grunting as she tries to pull herself to her knees.
10…11…12…13…
She hooks her arm over the top rope, and starts to pull herself to her feet, her knees are still weak, head still spinning. She slides off the ropes and onto the increasingly blood and sweat moist canvas. She lies on her back, tears streaming from her eyes, blood from her nose and mouth.
14…15…16…17…18…19…20!
Jon steps in the ring to pick up the downed fighter. Standing behind her hoisting her under her arms, he picks her up to her feet. Her knees are weak; she is unable to stand yet. Jon began to rub her breasts sexually, kissing her neck. He moves down to her crotch, rubbing it rhythmically, soothing her pain. She comes to life, moaning loudly, turning her head to kiss her opponent’s man. They kiss passionately for several seconds, with Leslie pausing to enjoy the efforts of her helper. She shakes her head out, and puts her fists up, indicating ready to fight. Jon slips out of the ring to let the girls continue their fight. The circle each other slowly, now, both bitterly exhausted. Leslie, needing to hurt her friend, steps in, feinting a jab to Amanda’s face. Amanda buys the ruse, covering up her head. Leslie lets loose a primal war cry and drive the weight of her body into an uppercut. The horribly brutal punch drills Amanda’s stomach. The resounding thud was echoed loudly, causing her delicate breasts to bounce, and her chubby thighs and ass to quake. Amanda immediately doubled over, spitting out her mouth piece, a mouthful of blood and saliva all over Leslie. Amanda drops to the floor, her ass high in the air as she gasped for breath. Jon opens his mouth to count, but is cut off by the round bell. Leslie growls angrily and moves to her stool, sitting down, bleeding and sweating in her corner. Amanda slowly crawls to her stool, almost sexually moving her body across the canvas, pulling herself high enough to get to her stool. Both women struggle to catch their breath in their corners in the short amount of time that they have.
The bell brings the women to their feet slowly for the 13th round. Amanda’s youth has allowed her to recover more quickly than her aging opponent. Amanda keeps her elbow low, protecting her battered ribs, and protecting her face with her left fist. Leslie slowly moves in, she swings wildly at Amanda’s face with a hard right and left haymaker. Her chubby body wobbles as she swings with her weight behind the punches. Amanda ducks the punches, hearing a loud ‘whoosh’ over her head as the punches cruise overhead. She straightens up with an uppercut to Leslie’s sternum, and a hook to Leslie’s face. Leslie staggers back and stops against the ropes. Amanda closes in, punching; she drills Leslie’s kidneys again, the shouts of pain that had escalated from grunts earlier in the fight have escalated again to screams of pain. Amanda shows no mercy to her friend, jabbing her face with some quick punches. Leslie tries to fight back, throwing tired punches between Amanda’s attacks. Her punches land, but with less power with each strike, Amanda staggers with each punch, but quickly regains her feet to attack. The two women spend the entire round on the ropes, Leslie eating a lot of fist. The bell rings, having been the first round without a knockdown since round 3.
The girls sit in agony between 13 and 14; both of them are brutally beaten. Amanda’s left eye is closed now, her right eye is a puffy slit, she can still see through. She is bleeding profusely from her mouth and nose. She has a cut on her massively swollen cheek that bled alright. Her small breasts are visibly black and blue, the spot on her ribs that Leslie focused on is closer to a black bruised color, she’s not entirely certain that Leslie didn’t fracture the rib. Her belly reddened from the numerous punches. Her chubby areas wiggle as she quivers on the stool, waiting for the bell to signal them together. Leslie was not much better; her face was similarly damaged, only with the cut being above her left eye, which had swollen shut. Her breasts were less bruised, but her stomach and kidney area had visible black and blue swelling. Leslie was drained, she barely noticed the bell ring, and she shuffled slowly towards Amanda, who was moving much quickly towards her. Amanda met her before Leslie made it to ring center. Leslie struck out desperately at her friend, smashing Amanda’s face, but not really slowing her down. Amanda twisted a right hook into Leslie’s face, sending the older woman into the ropes. Leslie stood there, holding her head, leaning into the ropes on her side. Amanda wasted no time in pursuit. The men were both cheering loudly at the action. Chris, while worried about the beating his wife was suffering, enjoyed every minute of the brutal, bloody display of these two otherwise non-aggressive women.
Amanda grunted as she pelted her gym partner, driving an uppercut into her sternum. The mature boxer let out a cry of pain, covering her chest up and turning into the ropes, exposing her back to Amanda. Amanda wasted no time in pummeling Leslie’s kidneys, driving rights and lefts into her as hard as she could. Her screams of pain filled the room, as Amanda showed no mercy in bruising her insides. Leslie tumbled across the ropes, stopping in the corner, facing her opponent, begging for mercy through her swollen eyes. Amanda showed none, determining to end this boxing match this round. Leslie covered her battered sides, leaving her head wide open. Amanda drilled Leslie with a right and left haymaker, spraying blood, sweat, and now, tears, across the ring. Leslie was out on her feet, her arms drape over the top ropes, holding her up yet. Amanda paused a moment, examining her friend.
“She’s still standing!” shouted Jon
“Chop her down!” added Chris
Amanda drove three more jabs into Leslie’s face, and combined with two more haymakers, causing Leslie’s head to bobble like a speed bag under the force, her gumshield ejected in a blood cloud from her mouth. She finally slid off the ropes and lay still in the corner, flat on her face. It was unnecessary to even count as she laid there, blood running freely off of her onto the mat on which she lays. The men hopped in the ring, each moving quickly to his wife. Jon raised the hand of Amanda as the victor. She smiled through her bloody, swollen face, before falling into Jon’s arms, naked, sweaty, and exhausted. Chris brought Leslie to with smelling salts. He helps her to sit up a bit, she sobs into his arms as she watches Amanda parade around the ring with her arms raised. Amanda kneels down next to her friend, eyes filled with tears. The three of them help Leslie to her feet; she clings to her half-naked opponent for support, the sweat on their bodies making it difficult for her to hang on.
The girls looked into each other’s battered eyes, again feeling the love and arousal they had felt during round 8. They kissed ever so gently, both being supported by their men.
“Honey, why don’t you and Chris clean up the mess we made in the ring, I’m sure the gym owner wouldn’t appreciate the bloodstains. I’m going to go clean up Leslie.” Amanda said Jon.
The men nodded in agreement, fair was fair. The girls would let their men have their way with them later that evening, but for now, they limped off to the shower room. The women stripped each other naked, stopping every few seconds to kiss. Within minutes, as they were cleaning up the ring, the men heard the hiss of the shower, and shortly after that, loud, passionate screams of sex coming from the locker room. The girls had entered the ring as friends, fought like enemies, and left as lovers.