Tonight was my wife's fourth fight at Swingers' Fight Club, and it was by far and away the most exhilarating of her fights to date. Intense. Bitter. A game changer, for her and for me.
She had suggested we join the club. She was always curious about swinging, much more than me. My thing was catfights, so when she discovered SFC online she thought it could be a way to ease me into swinging.
The club met roughly once a month at the large country manor of one of the three main hosts, with the occasional offshoot event in less grand surroundings if none of the manors was available. Anyone, male or female, could let the organizers know they wanted to fight and would get paired up with an appropriate opponent. There were always stakes - the winner would have sex with the loser's partner (it was a swingers' club after all). No other penetrative sex was allowed (it was a fight club after all) although doing things with hands and mouths was fine.
Her first fight was a puff piece, a setup against a woman who was paid to lose. The idea we later learned was that a win in a woman's first fight would be a confidence boost and whet her appetite for more. It worked on my wife, who was very happy to win sex with someone who wasn't me for the first time in decades. I didn't have any sexual relations than night, but I was more than happy just watching loads of fights.
A month later her second fight was against another relative newcomer who was a rather pathetic fighter. My wife handled her easily and was once again very happy to grab her reward by the cock and lead him off for sex somewhere in the building. This time I felt a bit more confident about finding my own fun, and after working the room for a while I found a nice enough woman to kiss and cuddle. When my wife had finished and found me getting a blowjob I think she was glad I was getting into things. That would change soon enough.
Her third fight was against a taller, bigger woman. I think we both expected her to lose (by now I was quite excited at the thought of having sex with someone who wasn’t my wife), but she surprised us both with just how strong, resilient and determined she was. When her opponent quit in a heap, and the host announced "and the winner is Sofia!", she fairly skipped off with the loser's husband. I sat there with new found admiration for my wife, but also a bit disappointed I hadn’t been won as a prize yet. I thought about consoling the loser, but she was so tired and demoralised after the fight that she wasn't in the mood. So I sat about a bit until the lady from the previous meet, her name was Donna, found me and offered comfort. My wife took ages enjoying her reward, so me and Donna had a long time together. I went down on her, she went down on me. And you could tell we both wanted to fuck each other, but we didn't want to break the rules of the club. So instead she sat on my lap, both of us completely naked, rubbing our bits together without any actual penetration. It felt great, her wet pussy rubbing up and down my slick shaft. But it felt a bit like breaking the rules to be honest, and a bit like cheating, especially because it was the same woman as last time (“don’t pick favorites” my wife and I had agreed beforehand), so I could see my wife's raised eyebrow when she found us together again.
"Don't worry, he's not in me" Donna said from her perch on my lap. She didn't get off me though, just leaned back slightly and pointed to where her pussy was pushing into my cock. This did nothing to placate my wife. She just gave us a hard stare until eventually Donna got up, giving me a farewell kiss. My wife quickly sat herself onto my lap and put my cock in her.
"This is a swingers' club you know," Donna said as she walked off.
"Yes," my wife called after her, "it's also a fight club."
I told her how amazing she’s been to win the fight and she bounced up and down on my cock until I exploded into her.
The organisers, or the hosts, or whoever it is who arrange the match-ups must take note of these interactions. Because wouldn't you know it, my wife's next fight, tonight's fight, was against Donna. I think we always thought it might be, but you never know until the night. I think my wife was both excited and nervous to be going up against her.
Theirs was the third fight of the night. The first was a pathetic newbie fight which didn't go long. Thank goodness because I could tell my wife wanted to get to hers quickly. The second fight was between two evenly matched guys and went long. My wife was a bit agitated at the start, but got into the fight as it progressed and at one point grabbed my hand and plunged it into her panties. She was sopping wet.
"Will you fight for me soon?" she asked.
"Oh. I didn't even know you wanted me to." I said.
"Of course!" she replied, "it's really fucking hot!" And she gave me a long hard kiss as one of the fighters in front of us eventually emerged victorious.
With that fight finished my wife went off to get ready. The ritual of the fight is that both fighters go off to different bedrooms and strip down to their panties and put on a dressing gown. They then come out to the fight area, the Pit as it's called, a quite intimate square space surrounded on all fours sides by two long sofas where spectators can sit, with more people stood watching behind.
There were whoops and hollers as my wife and her opponent walked from their rooms to the Pit and louder ones as they took off their dressing gowns and stood glaring at each other, topless, hands on hips. It was a bit kitsch, but I knew there was a bit of feeling between these two.
Donna is what my wife thinks my type is. That is to say she has shoulder length straight black hair. I had maybe two girlfriends before my wife with hair like that and now she thinks that's my type. My wife has brown curly hair which she keeps up around her ears. Other than that they were broadly similar. Same height, both with normal size tits, maybe Donna's a little larger but who cares, the usual amount of weight around the tummy for middle aged women, and strong looking legs and arms. My rock hard cock told me it was going to be a great fight and I honestly couldn't tell you who I wanted to win.
There's little else in the way of build up, no going over the rules (mainly no hitting, punching, kicking etc). A host simply introduces the fighters ("To my right, Sofia" - a huge rush of desire and pride in my wife - "and to my left, Donna" - a spark of something when I hear her name too, I guess I have developed a bit of a connection). And then they fight.
Sometimes fights start slowly, the combatants creeping gently nearer, feeling each other out. Not these two, they leaped at each other, trying to swing one arm around the other's head and grabbing hair with the other. The crowd roared their appreciation of the fast start as the topless women swang each other around by the hair until they tumbled onto some of the spectators on one of the sofas. Any falling into the crowd means a break in the fight, so they got off each other and headed back to the middle of the pit. They were both breathing heavily already, and had to pat back some strands of hair which had been pulled out of place. My cock was throbbing with the excitement.
On resumption, Donna charged at my wife again. She grabbed both her arms and then started shoving her backwards, almost like a lineman in football, until she heaved her onto the sofa behind her. There was another break of course, so the move did nothing to help Donna win the fight, but it was a huge show of strength that she managed to handle my wife like that. I was suitably impressed, expected her to win comfortably and was now imagining myself inside her.
If my wife was intimidated she didn’t show it. She picked herself up off the sofa and rejoined the fight with the same look of determination she had in her last fight. I realised it was also the same look she had when she had confronted Donna and shooed her from my lap, and I recalled the exquisite feeling of cumming inside her after that. So in quick succession I’d imagined myself in both these women and, wow, I really didn’t know who I wanted to win.
They had managed to secure mutual headlocks on each other. There was no wild whirling around like last time though, as they both had firm, wide stances. It was I suppose a traditionally unladylike pose, bent at the waist with their hair and boobs hanging down, legs so wide that even though they both still had panties on nothing was left to the imagination. But it's a well loved pose amongst catfight aficionados and I thought it was the sexiest thing I had ever seen.
They were trying to trip each other onto the floor, but in doing so Donna lost her headlock on my wife while my wife retained hers. I could see my wife squeezing Donna's head hard and trying to get her to the floor. Donna had her arms around my wife's waist holding on for balance. But the squeezing was becoming too much for her, so in desperation she grabbed the back of my wife's panties and pulled them up hard in a painful wedgie, to cheers from some in the crowd. My wife humphed and went up on her tiptoes but kept and tightened her hold on Donna's head. Donna could sense my wife's discomfort though, so she wrapped the back of the panties around her wrist and pulled up even harder. This elicited a shriek from my wife and a loud cheer from the crowd. Out of anger or panic my wife let go of her hold and grabbed madly at Donna's panties, yanking them this way and that, but without really getting them up in a wedgie, until finally they snapped off in her hand. My wife's own panties were still very much painfully pulled up into her, with Donna now almost parading her around like a dog on a leash, until my wife tore frantically at the side elastic which eventually ripped of in Donna’s hand. She let it fall dismissively to the floor.
There was barely any time to drink in the sight of these two warring beauties now standing naked beside each other (although I did manage to note my wife was slightly hairier down there, a huge plus in my book) because my enraged wife jumped angrily at her rival, thumping her on the side of the head with what looked like a hit (against the rules!) as she grabbed a huge handful of hair and threw Donna to the floor. As my wife held Donna to the ground by her hair Donna shouted "She hit me! She hit me!". The host called break, but my wife refused to yield, claiming it wasn't a hit she was just trying to grab her hair, until she was threatened with disqualification.
They got up, both visibly angry. There is a point where a host will call off a fight if the two fighters have gone too wild, but we hadn't reached that point yet. Or maybe we had, but no one wanted this fight to end.
The punishment for giving a hit is to take a hit. So Donna was allowed one slap to my wife's head. She stood right in front of my wife and now I was able to properly compare the two. I imagined the three of us alone in bed, the two of them trying to convince me who was better. I’d kiss them both and decide who was better; feel their tits and decide who was better; kiss their tummies, go down on them and fuck them and decide who was better. I felt uncontainably carnal.
My reverie was broken when Donna delivered a loud crack to my wife’s cheek. This brought oohs and ahhs from the crowd, but it seemed to barely register with my wife. It was another example of her ability to withstand anything thrown at her.
The slap galvanised my wife, and now that the fighters were back at each other it was my wife who seemed to have more energy and spirit, gaining the upper hand and putting Donna on the back foot. She managed to get two big handfuls of Donna's hair and bent her double at the waist. She forced Donna's head almost down to the ground and put all her weight behind her arms in what looked liked an incredibly painful hold. Donna's knees buckled and she was on the floor at my wife's feet , like a supplicant before a queen. I was so proud of my wife I wanted to jump up and fuck her right there.
But it wasn't a position that was going to force Donna to give up. So my wife tried to wrap her legs around Donna's head, or maybe her waist. It wasn't clear what the aim was because as soon as my wife shifted her weight Donna shifted hers, making my wife stumble sideways to the floor. Donna scrambled on top of wife who tried crawling away, but Donna slammed her body down on to my wife’s back, pinning her face down on the floor. As my wife tried to force her way up on to all fours Donna reached under her and grabbed my wife’s tits. She had a firm grip on my wife’s nipples and pulled them hard back down towards the ground. My wife grit her teeth as the crowd cheered the assault.
My wife moved her hands from the floor to Donna’s wrist in an effort to pry them free, but this meant she wasn’t supporting her own weight any more. Her tits stretched out either side of her body, and all her weight was now pushing down on them as Donna was pulling up on them. I heard gasps from some of the women in the crowd and as I looked around I saw a couple of them holding their own chests as if they were feeing the pain my wife must have been in. But I then realised my wife wasn’t wailing or howling, in fact to look at her she seemed quite serene. Eyes closed and concentrating, she didn’t seem about to quit. I knew she liked me to pinch and pull her nipples during sex, but this was something else entirely. They held like this for an unconscionable amount of time, Donna waiting for the inevitable submission, my wife refusing to give it.
And then Donna did something inexplicable. She let go. My wife fell to the floor. Donna walked over to one of the sofas to get some water.
My wife picked herself and went to get some water herself, pouring a splash onto her boobs and rubbing some of the pain out of them. The whole room was watching my wife.
Donna walked back to the center of the pit and my wife followed. The two tough, naked, evenly matched women went at each other again with a clear determination not to let their bitter rival prevail. After more inside fighting, my wife again appeared to have the upper hand, with a firm grip on Donna’s hair. Her inexperience showed though as again she failed to turn the fight to her advantage. Then Donna grabbed one of my wife’s legs, picking it up enough to unbalance her and they fell to the floor.
Now my wife was on her back and while she still held Donna's hair and Donna was between her legs she wasn't held fast. Slowly, intimately, like two snakes entwined, their naked bodies fought for control. Donna inched up. My wife's legs tried to hold her back. Donna inched up again, her boobs pressing into my wife's tummy, her hips pushed up against the back of my wife's legs. If Donna had a strap on it would have looked like she was fucking my wife. Donna inched up again and despite my wife’s every effort she was now clear of my wife’s legs. She was sat on her midriff and I could see my wife’s pubic hairs sticking out underneath Donna’s bum. Donna inched up again and for the first time in the fight I saw panic in my wife’s face. Another inch forward and Donna was now sitting heavily on my wife’s chest. My cock twitched at the thought of fucking this woman who was about to defeat my wife. Maybe if this was a school yard scrap Donna would have finished there. But this was SFC. Donna pinned my wife’s arms under her knees and with one final inch forward planted her naked pussy firmly on my wife’s face to huge applause from the crowd. I would have applauded too if I wasn’t gripping the sofa so tightly to stop myself ejaculating everywhere at the thought of fucking the woman that was sat on my wife’s face.
Perhaps if this was any other woman my wife might have relaxed into her predicament. She was the one who wanted to swing after all and was interested in women as well as men, so maybe she might have poked her tongue out and pleasured the woman on top of her. But Donna was my type. I had picked a favorite. And to lose to her must have been a huge blow to my wife’s pride, like she’d lost something to my former girlfriends.
She mumbled something. Donna shifted slightly and said “can you say that again sweetie”. That’s when for the first time in four fights I heard my wife say “I give”. Donna stood up to accept the crowd’s applause. I stood up and applauded too, my erect cock pointing directly at Donna. Such a difference now in these two women: Donna, arms aloft, smiling at her victory; my wife prone beneath her, miserably wiping her face clean.
Donna turned and strode smugly over to me. She took me by the hand and led me to a nearby bedroom. Barely inside the door she kissed me hard, backing up to the bed, laid down, grabbed my cock and pulled it into her. And so for the first time in decades I was inside someone who was not my wife. And it was very different. My wife is incredibly tight and it can be difficult to stop myself finishing too soon. With Donna I had expected to explode as soon as I was in her, but I didn’t fit her the way I do my wife. She came quickly and seemed to be enjoying herself so I didn’t sweat it. I did enjoy kissing someone who wasn’t my wife though, I enjoyed her new and different body, breasts, hips, buttocks. And eventually I came into her.
She took my hand again to walk me back to the main area. I’m sure she meant to rub it in by delivering me back to my wife. But when we got back to the pit we were both stopped in our tracks by what we saw.
My wife was sat still naked on one of the sofas, a woman kissing each breast, a man going down on her and another man stood by the sofa with his cock in my wife’s mouth. I’d half expected her to be sat alone and demoralized like the woman after her last fight. But here she was the center of attention. Donna dropped my hand and wandered off without a word. The man by the sofa came into my wife’s mouth and as soon as he was out another man was ready to take his place. That’s when I realized that the two women kissing her boobs had also been replaced by another two women. They were queuing up for her!
I sat on the sofa opposite, stroking my own rapidly erecting cock, enjoying the sight of my wife being so in demand.
On more than one occasion a woman came up to me and, with no interest in me, mentioned how amazing my wife was. “Those tits! So tough!” was a common refrain. It was clear that moment of the fight, when she hadn’t given up despite her tits were being tortured beyond normal endurance, had impressed everyone.
Once she was done with the queue of people attending her, my wife came over and sat on my lap, putting me inside her. It was nice to be back in her warm, tight place and I came very quickly. She smiled at me and kissed me, rocking herself back and forth until she came too.
“You’re a superstar” I told her, and it would quickly be made apparent just how in demand she had become.
