Title: BBB – No Not The Better Business Bureau

By: DB8TR

What is BBB? Wrong question. The right question is who is BBB? Answer – me. I’m BBB – The Boob Bangin Bitch! What do I do? I bang boobs of course. No, not for a living. It’s more than a living it’s a pleasure. I do make money at it, but I have a day job that we don’t need to discuss. At night I hang out at Manny’s. That’s a local titty bar that has a VIP room for special events. It’s set up with a ring and most of the special events are boxing matches or wrestling matches, no mud, but also no clothes. I prefer boxing because that is where I get to bang boobs. There is nothing I like more than feeling the squish of a soft mound of titflesh under my fist. I prefer perky ones that haven’t succumbed to gravity yet, but I’ll bang anything – big, small, perky or droopy. Just no plastic bags. Since I popped some bimbo’s DD water-bags Manny insists on personally checking to make sure everything in the ring is real.

So let me tell you how this usually goes. Some guy, almost always an arrogant jerk, brings his hot girlfriend in making noise about how tough she is. Most of the little bimbos they bring don’t know nuthin about tough. Yeah, they may be fit from going to the gym and a few even took Tae Bo classes, but none of them has ever been in a ring. It’s a lot different when there’s somebody in there who’s willing to take a blow in order to deliver 2 or 3. I’m willing because I know nobody is going to go toe-to-toe with me once my right fist turns her nipple inside out.

So let me tell you about this one night this redneck shows up with his blond cheerleader, do you believe it? A cheerleader and he wants her to fight the toughest bitch in the house. Well all the regulars know that’s me. Manny certainly knows that’s me, but he starts trying to talk this jerk into letter her fight some other newcomer, but he’s having none of it. The more Manny tries to talk him into it the stubborn he gets. Then the bimbo herself starts getting into it with Manny. What did he think she was some little pussy? No, not her, she was some mean ass bitch. That’s what she said. Finally Manny pointed to me and said how about her? So they look over and see me standing with a bunch of guys who are all whooping it up and telling the poor bimbo to bring it on. I’m sure they’re saying she don’t look so tough. And, I don’t, really. But I am tough. I’ve been told I look a little like Catherine Bell during her JAG days. I think that’s because I have the short black hair cut in a pseudo-military style. That and I have some nice round tits (better than hers if you ask me) that fill out a 36 C very nicely. So they go – yeah bring her on. I’m sitting there sipping my beer trying not to drool over the thought of tattooing my knuckle prints all over the bimbo’s perky tatas. So Manny motions me over and says the blond wants to fight. I say sure and take her in the back to strip down. See we fight in bikini bottoms and wear only thin gloves so I can still feel the squish when I bang a boob.

A few minutes later I lead the blond back out. We’re both wrapped in black robes so I haven’t got a close up on my targets just yet. Before we climb into the ring Manny explains the rules. Once you get in the ring you must fight at least one full round. Once a round has started it can’t be stopped except for a knockout, which has never happened because nobody is aiming for the head, at least not much. Either girl could retire at the end of any round. The bimbo and the redneck are like yeah, yeah, yeah let’s get on with it. I could see the guy already had a hard on thinking how his little cutie was going to beat me up as foreplay for some vigorous fucking to come later. The funny thing was that he’d probably pop his cork watching me work over those fun bags he was so familiar with. At least half the jackasses who brought their little bimbos in did. I did nothing to hide my smile was I climbed into the ring.

After Manny announced that a match was ready to begin he instructed us to hand out robes to his assistants so he could introduce us. That gave me my first look at my targets. I have to admit she had a nice rack, to steel a line from Elaine on Seinfeld. They were about my size, maybe not quite the full C that I am, but juicy. Best of all they were perky. She probably wasn’t more than 22 or 23 so the drag of time hadn’t worked its evil magic yet. Physically we were a good match. She was a little taller maybe 5’7” to my 5’6”. Weight-wise we were both around 120 I’d say. Unfortunately for her mentally tough is more important than physically strong and there, there, I knew I had her hands down.

I still get nervous waiting for the bell to ring, not because I’m fearful. Hell, even if I get beat around a bit I’m still going to enjoy busting the bitch’s puppies. No, I’m just anxious to get on with the flattening. Then it rang and the bimbo walked right to the center of the ring hands high protecting her face. Fool! I threw a right cross that came in under her left hand and landed solid on the bottom half of her left tit driving it up under her chin. She shrieked and backed away. Welcome to the real world bitch I thought. She came back to the center of the ring, hands a little lower this time not affording me another free shot. I started to circle and she followed. Now, you gotta understand the redneck is hollering for her to get-in-there and pound that bitch’s tits (meaning mine) to hurt her hooters to blast her boobs to… well you get the idea. I can see the little wheels spinning behind the blue eyes. She needed to throw a punch, but she wasn’t sure what I’d do when she did. Finally, the yelling got too much for her and she threw a tentative jab. I blocked it easily with my right hand and countered with a left that nailed her unprotected left breast. That one had some sting on it, but this time she was quiet, and maybe a little frustrated cause she rushed forward flailing both arms. I just stepped aside and waited for her to tire before moving in. I pinned her back against the ropes with a left that buried itself in her right milk-maker. It was a solid blow and I felt the soft flesh mold itself to my fist. Later I’d savor the moment by grinding my knuckles in the soft pillow of her breast, but now I had to take command, remove any hope she had of recovering. I’d seen too many fights where the girl with the initial success let it slip away to lose to a bitch that got angry and then got even. Not me, I opened up with both hands churning upper cuts that sent her boobs flying just like Ali sent the speedbag bouncing. By now the redneck was screaming for his bimbo to stop being a pussy and fight. For a moment I wanted to get him in the ring and see if he could do any better. I doubted he could. Not yet winded I stepped back to see what the bimbo would do. She ran. Ran right over to her corner where the redneck was yelling. She said nothing, but I could see the fear in her eyes. We were barely a minute into the round. I had almost two minutes to enjoy myself and I always enjoy myself more when I can work close up to the guy. To show him how easy it is to take down his bimbo. Too bad for him he didn’t have a real woman like me on his arm.

With her man in her ear the blond recovered her nerve. As I moved in she threw a flurry of punches. I blocked most, but a few landed swaying my melons to and fro. I held my fire as I worked my way into range. I always tried to remember a quote from Joe Louis. Don’t aim for the target aim six inches behind the target so when you deliver the blow it has maximum impact. I was aiming for her spinal column by way of the mammary route. Her brief success in hitting my hooters was short lived. Once in range I put an end to that and to her hope that my early success was some kind of fluke. I popped her one in the gut, which took the wind out of her and opened up the hitting zone. I then took my time dropping rights and left on the rapidly reddening flesh of her hurtin hooters. Each blow landed with a snap of the wrist that maximized the sting by twisting the tender flesh. I always enjoyed that the bimbo’s nipples always went rock hard under this kind of barrage further increasing the pain. It was like driving marbles into her fat babas. I could almost feel them crunch against her rib cage. They were going to be too sore to suck for at least a week.

Her redneck was still screeching for her to fight, but she couldn’t. It was time to taunt him. I paused briefly and hollered to get his attention. Then I calmly asked him which tit he liked better. He didn’t respond. I told him my guys seem to like the right one better. He didn’t respond so I said lets see what you think about the right one unleashing a barrage of blows focused on that one sore tata. I could see him wince. Not fair, I said, to play favorites though and I unleashed a second barrage squashing the left one like the melon it was. I thought he was about to say something when Manny rang the bell. I knew it was over. The bimbo wouldn’t be so stupid as to come out for the second round.

And that is why they call me the Boob Banging Bitch.