Xavier Smith

"Put the God damned weights up, fucking pussy," Max sneered. "As soon as you change your tampon, give me ten laps around."

Ten laps around the perimeter of the gym was one mile exactly and Xavier knew that Max did not mean to walk that mile. He meant for Xavier to run it and run it at full speed.

The nineteen-year-old college freshman got to his feet and started running as hard as he could.

"God damned!" Max screamed at him as he passed him. "Did I say 'skip?'? Run, pussy, run!"

He pushed himself harder and still he could not catch up with the fifty six year old trainer.

"You are fucking pathetic," Max screamed as he passed the kid again.

"Your first match is in five days," Max reminded him as they stood in the shower. "Five fucking days from now, you are going to get the shit kicked out of you unless you can fucking pick up the pace, fucking pussy."

He got dressed and grabbed his textbooks from his locker.

"Bye, little girl," Max sneered. "Have fun in school today; don't let any of the big boys take your lunch money again."

----

Donna smiled as the handsome boy sat down next to her in their Sociology class. She could tell that he liked her, but he was far too shy to simply look over and ask her out.

"Hey Donna," Brad Litsinger smiled knowingly.

"Oh, hey Brad," she giggled.

"Listen, you doing anything tonight?" Brad asked.

She looked over at Xavier; his ears were red as he eavesdropped in on their conversation.

"No, why?" she giggled. "What'd you have in mind?"

"You know," he laughed and walked off.

----

"I don't even know why the fuck I'm here," Max grumbled as they sat in the dressing room. "You ain't got a fucking shot in Hell."

"Three minutes," Joe said from the doorway.

"Oh, that's right, they want somebody to put the fucking bandages on your little boo-boos," Max said as Xavier began to pump his arms and jog in place, getting his heart rate up.

Dwight Richards sat in the opponent's corner smiled as Xavier Smith and his trainer entered the ring. Xavier looked nervous to the kid; as well he should. This was Dwight's fifth semi-professional fight and it was only Xavier's first. Dwight had won all four of his previous fights, three with knockouts.

Xavier had not expected to be this nervous; he'd been in hundreds of fights ever since knocking Elliot Johnson out. This, however, was the first one that was on a semi-professional level and against someone else that had trained to fight.

The combatants were introduced, the rules given, then they were sent to their corners to wait for the bell.

"Throw the first fucking punch," Max ordered. "Don't be a big fucking pussy and wait for him; get your fucking ass in there and throw the first punch."

The bell rang and Xavier charged into Dwight Richards.

By the third round, Dwight's trainer was considering throwing in the towel; Dwight's face was nearly unrecognizable.

"What the fuck are you doing in there?" Max screamed in Xavier's ear. "Quit kissing him and let's go home!"

Dwight's trainer tossed the towel into the ring, ending the fight before the bell could ring for the fourth round.

----

The fight had given him some confidence. He walked into the classroom, saw the pretty co-ed and walked over to her. Even though he was looking at her, he was actually looking at a spot on the desk just over her shoulder, distracting himself from her blonde beauty so that he wouldn't lose his nerve.

"Hey, um, you um you want to go and get some um Chinese or something?" Xavier asked Donna.

"Sure," she giggled and gave him her phone number.

He borrowed Max's car and picked her up at her parent's apartment. She was sucking his cock before he had the car out of the parking lot.

After dinner she pulled him into the back seat of the car and stripped completely nude.

"Oh yeah, Baby," she laughed as she straddled his cock. "Fuck me! Fuck me good, Baby!"

Xavier was in love. It was his first time with anything but his hand and it felt great.

Chapter 6

Rumors began to reach Xavier's ears that Donna was fucking around on him. She denied it, of course, but he began to wonder. Some nights she wasn't available and her parents couldn't tell him where she was or who she was with.

----

"God damn it, get your fucking mind out of her cunt!" Max screamed at him.

The bell for Round Two rang and Xavier got to his feet. Both Max and his opponent could tell that Xavier wasn't anywhere in the ring. He was going through the motions, but wasn't paying attention.

"Fucking deserved it," Max spat. "Fucking deserves to be a big fucking loser. How's it feel, pussy? Like being a loser? 'Cause that's what you are, a big fucking loser."

It had taken all twelve rounds and his opponent had won on points but Xavier knew his trainer was right. Whether he lost by points or by a knockout, it was still a loss and losing didn't feel very good.

----

Donna was talking very excitedly about the party at the Sigma Phi Iota frat house.

"You are going, right?" she hugged Xavier. "They're going to have this live band there an all! You have to go!"

He dressed in his khakis and a pull over sweater and walked to the frat house. The music was unbearably loud and not very good, but the majority of the party-attendees were so drunk it didn't matter.

There was no sign of Donna anywhere so Xavier walked around, nodding in greeting to a few acquaintances (he had no friends, no one he felt close to, other than Donna.)

"Hey, where's the bathroom?" He asked Brad Litsinger, one of the frat boys.

"Upstairs, second door on the left, I think," Brad yelled back.

He walked up the stairs and saw two frat boys exit the second door on the left, congratulating each other. Xavier smirked to himself as they avoided eye contact with him.

He opened the second door on the left and made eye contact with Donna. One frat boy was ramming her pussy from behind while three more waited their turn.

"Hey!" she laughed drunkenly. "You made it!"

He closed the door, found the bathroom and emptied both his bladder and his stomach. Thankfully, the band decided to take a break.

"Find everything okay?" Brad laughed at him.

"Uh huh," Xavier said, and rushed to the front door of the frat house.

"Bye, loser!" Brad laughed.

Xavier ignored him and continued toward the door.

"What a fucking pussy," Brad laughed to one of his friends.

"Yeah?" Xavier asked him. "Think I'm a pussy, huh?"

"No, bitch," Brad laughed. "I KNOW you're a pussy!"

"Yeah?" Xavier smirked. "Think you can go a couple of rounds with me? I mean, since I' a pussy and all..."

"Dude, get the fuck out of here!" Brad laughed. "I'd fucking kill you!"

Brad Litsinger was six foot six and weighed two hundred and forty pounds. He was a first string nose tackle. Looking at Xavier, he knew he'd have absolutely no trouble knocking the boy down.

"Then let's go, cunt," Xavier said.

"Aw, fuck off, pussy, before you get hurt," Brad sneered.

"I mean, you want to do this before you blow me, or after?" Xavier asked.

A few of his buddies jeered and Brad lost his smile.

"Want to take that back while you can, Smith?" Brad asked.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Xavier smiled. "You didn't want anyone to know you're a big cock sucker?"

Brad threw a punch, which Xavier easily blocked. Brad was stunned when Xavier's punch loosened one of his teeth.

"Fucking lucky," he lisped and threw another punch.

His jaw shattered at Xavier's second punch. Three of his ribs broke at Xavier's third and fourth punch. There was no fifth punch; Xavier wouldn't hit a man when he was down.

----

"Cool," Donna sneered. "Real fucking cool, Xavier."

She stood, hands on hips, glaring at him. Other students that were filing into the Sociology class gave them their undivided attention.

"What the hell are you mad about?" Xavier asked her

"Fuck!" she spat. "Did you have to fuck Brad all up and shit? Just 'cause I was fucking around?"

"No, I didn't have to fuck Brad all up 'cause you were fucking around," Xavier said. "I fucked him up because I felt like fucking him up. You're being a fucking whore has nothing to do with it."

"You knew what I am," she hissed. "You knew what I was before we even started dating."

----

"Litsinger," Coach shook his head. "It never ever occurred to you to stop and think 'why is this guy, half my size, not afraid of me?'"

Brad mumbled something, but Coach wasn't really listening.

"Litsinger, that tells me, that tells me that you are a dumb ass," Coach said. "And there is no room on my team for a dumb ass."

Brad mumbled something, protesting. Coach shook his head and pointed to the door of his office.

"Bye, Litsinger," Coach said. "Get your stuff out of your locker."

----

"Hey, mother fucker," a guy sneered.

Xavier smiled; he'd been expecting the frat boys of Sigma Phi Iota to retaliate. News of Brad Lit singer's being removed from the football team had traveled very quickly. News of Brad's leaving campus traveled almost as quickly. Donna had screamed at him about it, but all he did was flip her the finger.

"Hey cock sucker, come for some man juice?" Xavier smiled.

"Ain't going to be smiling much longer," the boy sneered as four more frat boys joined him.

"Oh, I think I will," Xavier smiled and pulled Max's nine-millimeter pistol from his pants pocket.

"Hey!" one of the boys protested.

"It worth dying for?" Xavier asked and pointed the gun at the biggest one of the now cowering boys.

Chapter 7

"God damn!" Max screamed. "I am sixty nine years old! Sixty nine fucking years old, and I'm STILL beating the shit out of you, you pussy!"

Xavier smiled. The man was still running laps around the gym faster, because Xavier was letting him beat him. The stroke had left Max with a bit of slurred speech now, but with Xavier's loving help, the man was gaining strength daily.

"What are you going to do, pussy?" Max screamed. "He's going to beat the shit out of you, and what are you going to do about it? Cry?"

----

The Georgia World Convention Center had the marquee announcing the upcoming Saturday night WBO heavyweight contest. Xavier and Max flew in on Wednesday night, to get acclimated to the altitude.

"Man, you got to go to Big Daddy's," the guy staying in the hotel room next to Xavier's praised.

"Oh?" Xavier asked politely.

"Yeah, fucking bitches take everything off, man!" the guy laughed. "I ain't seen that much pussy in my life! And these ain't all tired out whores neighed! These are grade-A pussies. Little bitch I had rubbing up and down on me said she was a fucking freshman over at Georgia Tech!"

"No shit, huh?" Xavier said.

"Yeah, Big Daddy's, don't forget it," the guy said and disappeared into his room.

"What the fuck, huh?" Max said, spittle spraying. "Nice, young cunts, huh?"

"Fine, fine, Max, we'll go," Xavier, laughed. "But if Emily asks me, I'm telling her it "was all your idea.

"She ain't going to ask, and if she does, so what?" Max said, affecting a bravado he did not feel.

Xavier smiled; Max's wife, Emily, ran their household with an iron fist. Tough as nails in the gym, profane at ringside, Max was a meek, mild-mannered mouse at home.

Big Daddy's was a three-block walk from the hotel so the two men went after eating at a local steak house.

"Good evening, gentlemen," a burly bouncer greeted them, and then smiled widely. "Aw, fuck yeah! You Xavier Smith, ain't you?"

"Yes I am," Xavier smiled.

"Man, I dropped a thousand dollars on you to take Washington in the eighth round," the man laughed. "And you go on and knock his ass out in the fourth!"

"Well, shit, if you'd told me, I'd taken it easy on him the first seven rounds!" Xavier smiled.

"I heard that," the bouncer laughed. "I heard that! Y'all have yourselves a good time in there."

"Got tickets to the fight Saturday night?" Max asked the bouncer.

"Nah, man, them tickets already up to two hundred bucks for all the way in the back, know what I'm saying?" the bouncer said.

He jabbed a finger playfully in Xavier's chest.

"And I done learned my lesson with you, man, I ain't betting no more on them fights!" He said.

"Here you go, bring a buddy," Max said and handed the bouncer two tickets for the fourth row.

"Hey!" the bouncer yelled out to the manager. "Put these two in the Hot Box!"

Xavier was bored. Max was having a great time ogling the nineteen and twenty year old strippers, guzzling the 'complimentary' champagne and stuffing dollar bills into the girls' garters.

"Hey, you don't look like you're all too happy," a woman laughed into Xavier's ear.

"No, no," he lied. "I'm fine, just tired, that's all."

"Eddie says you're some kind of athlete," the girl smiled. "You do look like you're in pretty good shape."

"Yeah?" he smiled. "You look pretty fit too."

"Oh, I am," she laughed. "In fact, I bet I can do something you can't."

"Honey," he smiled. "I'll bet there's a LOT of things you can do that I can't."

"You know what I mean," she laughed and slapped his arm playfully. "But here, I'll show you. Watch."

She pulled the cork out of the champagne bottle and dropped it onto the table in front of Xavier. Then she got on top of the table and squatted down.

"You watching?" she asked, needlessly.

"Uh huh," Xavier said and watched the long legged brunette squat down over the champagne cork.

She picked the cork up with her vaginal muscles and raised herself up slightly.

"Put the bottle on the table," she ordered and Xavier did.

She squatted down over the bottle's mouth, taking it into her pussy, She bounced up and down a couple of times, then suddenly stood up, leaving the bottle still on the table.

"Ta da," she laughed and jumped down from the table.

Xavier looked and smiled widely; the cork was back in the mouth of the bottle. It was in there loosely, but it was in there.

"Now, that, that takes muscles," she laughed, and playfully pinched his bicep. "Think you can do that?"

"No, Honey, I don't think I can do that," he smiled.

"So, what's your name?" she asked as she rubbed her thirty nine Double D breasts against his back, leaning over and whispering in his ear.

"Xavier. Xavier Smith," he said.

"Mine's Bucky Kent," she said and lightly sucked on his ear lobe.

"Bucky?" he asked, frowning.

"Yeah, well, my real name's Linda. Linda Loos," she smiled and switched sides so she was whispering into his other ear. "But you know, you're supposed to take your pet's name and the name of the street you lived on and that's your porn name."

"So, your cat's name was Bucky?" he asked.

"Who the fuck said it was a cat?" she asked in a surly tone. "Fucking cats are useless animals. Any animal that acts like it's doing you a favor for eating your food has some problems."

"So it was a dog, I take it?" he asked.

"Yeah, well, really, it was my older brother's dog," she agreed and swiveled around him, looking into his eyes. "You got nice eyes. Brother was a fucking retard. My dog's name was Buster. But a dancer named Buster just didn't sound like it'd go over all that hot, you know?"

"So, Bucky Ken," Xavier smiled and slid a twenty-dollar bill into her garter.

"Kent," she corrected. "Bucky Kent. I grew up on Kent Street, in Metairie, Louisiana."

"No shit?" he laughed.

"Yeah, shit hole suburb right outside of New Orleans," she said.

"Honey, I know right where Metairie is; I live in Kenner," he smiled.

"Yeah?" she smiled.

In the bad lighting, Xavier did not notice that the smile never reached Linda's eyes.

----

A couple of the dancers from Big Daddies did go to the fight; Max had given out a total of twenty tickets to the girls that night. Eddie, the bouncer, sold his tickets for eight hundred dollars apiece.

"Shit man, fucking fight's on television, know what I'm saying?" he laughed.

The girls screamed and hooted and cheered as Xavier and Max made their way to the ring and Max smiled widely at them.

"Fight's on TV," Xavier smiled. "Better hope Emily's not watching."

"Aw fuck Emily," Max sneered, but quit smiling at the dancers.

Bucky screamed and cheered, watching the fight on the plasma screen television at Big Daddies. She'd sold her ticket for twelve hundred; Max had given her a ringside seat.

"Your little hot ass ain't here," Max, commented, looking at the large black guy that was sitting in the seat. "Guess she knew you were going to get your fucking ass kicked."

"Uh huh," Xavier agreed.

Bucky jumped down and ordered a Long Island Ice Tea and sat down to watch the fight.

"What the fuck you doing?" Marcus screamed at her. "You ain't on a fucking break!"

"Watching my man get ready kick some ass," she screamed back and pointed to the screen.

"Soon as it's over, get your ass back to work," Marcus sullenly agreed.

She was back to work in less than five minutes; Xavier knocked the man out in the second round.

As Xavier and Max left the ring, the commentators made a few comments about all the attractive women from the fourth row that swarmed around Xavier Smith.

"Well, I tell you, Frank," Ben, said. "If I had all them women in my fan club, I'd get into the ring."

"Uh huh," Frank laughed. "Ben there's not a real big fan club for dead men."

"Frank, Frank Kagel, telling it like it is," Ben smiled at the camera. "We'll be back after these messages.

----

"Yeah, yeah," Xavier smiled. "Send her up."

"He's in Room fourteen forty-one," the clerk told Bucky.

"Thank you," she smiled and sauntered to the elevators, knowing full and well the clerk's eyes were glued to her shorts, her long legs and the two crescents of her ass peeking out.

"Hi," he smiled as she came into the room.

"Fantastic fight," Bucky praised.

"Yeah, well," he smiled.

She looked good in just a sports bra and shorts. Her long brown hair was done up in a ponytail, making her look younger than her twenty-two years. Her four-inch heels made her long legs look even longer, and made her two inches taller than him.

"So, you up to fucking or what?" she asked.

"Damn, Bucky, why don't you just come out and say it, huh?" Xavier said, shocked at her blunt attitude.

"Hey, why beat around the bush?" she laughed and unzipped her shorts.

"Remember?" she asked, leaning very close to him. "I don't even have a bush; I shave it."

Chapter 8

Max hated flying and it was taking a toll on the seventy one year old. Xavier had begged with him to move to Atlanta and had even bought him a house, but Emily would not leave Kenner and their three children and eight grandchildren. And with her oldest grandchild getting ready to have a great-grandchild, she was adamant; they would not be leaving Kenner. Ever.

In the past few years, Xavier had begun to lose a steady stream of fights. He'd gone from a record of thirty-seven wins, 4 losses to a record of forty-two wins, nine losses and one draw.

He wouldn't admit it, not out loud, but it was the unhealthy lifestyle he and Bucky maintained. She liked to party, liked the recreational drugs. He refused to put any drugs into his system, but did, on occasion, drink a little too much. She liked to stay out late, liked to hit the nightclubs and dance.

If he weren't up to a night of dancing, she would go on her own. When she went on her own, she would come home with a mysterious little smirk on her lips. That mysterious little smirk drove Xavier crazy. To avoid seeing that little smirk, he went out with her most nights.

----

"Don't know why the fuck I'm here," Max bitched and griped.

His second stroke had completely paralyzed the left side of his body. His speech was nearly indecipherable, except for the profanities and he walked with a cockeyed gait, dragging his left side behind him.

"You were a pussy, are a pussy and will always be a fucking pussy," Max went on. "Fight like a pussy and lose like a pussy. Why am I here? Need someone to change your panty liner, pussy? That why I'm here?"