It was my Junior year of college, spring of 2000, people were still getting over the fact that the world hadn't come to an end in January, I had finally found a place off campus in an apartment building just a few blocks away from campus. It was a big city, but finding something I could afford on my own, and I was desperate to be on my own, had been a bit of a struggle. Between going to classes, going to work and trying to find an apartment it was all just a bit overwhelming. But in December I had finally landed one, and first week of January I was moving in.

The building was nicer than expected. It was only 7 floors, the top a penthouse, and the other 6 were each divided into two units units on the right, and two on the left. My apartment was the first one to the right on the 5th floor. There were two elevators, one for people, and one for freight, which had mad moving in much simpler.

It was in the spring, around April, that he moved into my building. I had wondered for a time who lived in the Penthouse, and had then heard that it was currently empty. But one nice spring day, as I was getting my sneaks on to go for my morning run, I saw two large moving trucks pull up. Several burly men began unload what looked like gym equipment mostly, trundling it into the freight elevator, and into the building. I didn't pay much attention at first, though I did notice I turned all their heads as I jogged by in my soccer Umbros and sports bra. Around that time I had been enjoying turning heads. After years of being too skinny, or to young, I was finally in a body that boys wanted, and I was determined to keep it that way.

My daily run took me down through the downtown area, to the river, and I would run along the river front and back for several blocks before heading home. It was about 5 miles and I ran it every morning, usually speeding up to a near spring along the water, before settling back into a jog on the way back up to campus. As I approached the building I saw they were still unloading, and as I stepped into the elevator, dripping in sweat, a man I had never seen before first held the elevator door for me, and then followed me on.

He was tall. I am 5'10" but he towered over me at 6'6". He had broad, massive shoulders, and a slender sleek frame. His skin was a deep chocolate color, creamy and flawless. His hair was close shaven, and he was wearing a pin stripe suit, shined leather shoes, and a cleaned pressed white shirt with a large open collar, and a heavy cuban link gold chain around his neck. He smelled of cocoa butter and spices. And we he smiled at me, he had perfect white teeth, save for one capped in gold.

His smile was seductive, and his voice was smooth and baritone.

"What floor?" he asked sweetly.

"Oh, uh, 5th please", I said. And watched him push the "Penthouse" button, followed by the 5.

I smile, and apologized for being all sweaty and gross.

"I'm Kiki" I said

"J" he said, "Pleasure to meet you".

"Nice to meet you too. Well this is me" I said as the elevator came to a stop.

I didn't realize at that moment he meant the letter, not something short for Jay. As I left the elevator, I glance back to be sure he was checking me out. The next morning he beat me out the door by about 3 minutes, and for the next several weeks we became jogging buddies. Both with head phones on, in our own little worlds, but following the same route, and once in a while nodding to one another. He had a longer stride than mine, and while I would slow up on the way home he would run at a hard sprint, and typically beat me back to the building by a few minutes. Long enough that I rarely caught him in the elevator. And although we saw one another often, we rarely spoke, other than simple courtesies.

One morning, after about a month, he was waiting for me, holding the elevator door. His arms were all taught and sinewy. His muscles bulging, he was in a tank top and boxing shorts, and he smiled as he held the door. I was dripping wet again, leaning back against the opposite wall of the elevator. I could feel his eyes on me as he hit the 5 for me, and then the Penthouse for himself.

"So, um...what do you do J?" I sputtered, slightly nervous. Though I tried not to show it his beautiful skin, and muscle toned body was lighting fires in my crotch and sending sharp electric signals coursing through my veins, every time he moved.

He smiled that sexy seductive smile of his and said "I'm a fighter. I box." he said it matter of fact and without any hint of bragging.

"Oh" I squawked, slight more excited. "You must be good if you're living in the Penthouse?"

He just smiled at me, a gave an easy toss of his head. It was an odd movement, like he was embarrassed by it. Not his usual easy confidence.

"It's paying the bills...for now". The elevator stopped. The doors open. For a moment I just stood there, not really sure what else to say. But as I stepped toward the door, i turned back slightly, his eyes all over my ass, and said "I'd love to watch you fight some time"

And tried my best to strut away, letting my hips do a full sashay for him as I walked to my door. By the time I reached it I could hear the elevator doors closing, and as my key hit the lock, my knees went fully weak. I lay down on the sofa, pulled down my Umbros and played with my clit repeatedly and rhythmically for the next half hour, having orgasm after orgasm thinking about those muscles, and his beautiful eyes, and chocolate skin. Finally I collapsed completely out of energy. Then dragged myself to the shower, where after washing off the sweat and grime of the morning, I then rode the shower massage head for another 20 minutes of delicious orgasms.

A few days later, he was waiting for me again, after our run. This time he was all smiles and as I got on he said

"I'm fighting this Friday in Atlantic City. I got you a front row ticket if you want it. But, you have to come as my date"

I was a little in shock, and full of excitement as he said it. For weeks now I had been secretly fantasizing about him and now here we was asking me out.

"I. Uh. Yes. Yes definitely. What time?"

He looked me up and down, then met my gaze with his eyes.
"Be ready by 3pm, the limo will be downstairs."

As the elevator came to a stop, I smiled, and said "I'm looking forward to it!", and did my best sashay off to my door. The next few days were a bit of blur, full of excited nerves, and I spent all of Friday morning choosing an outfit, finally settling on a little black dress with spaghetti straps and a plunging neckline, that was very nearly too short on my 5'10" frame, but so long as I didn't bend over, or walk to quickly it didn't show off too, too much. Underneath I wore a red thong, and no bra, which I hated wearing anyway, and wouldn't work with that dress regardless.

I was down stairs at 2:50, hair done up, in tails, my diamond necklace, and a pair of black spike heels that made my legs look extra long, and put me closer to matching his 6'6" height. The limo was a full stretch town car, with the privacy screen, and wet bar and room for a full entourage, which he had. He introduced me to everyone, his manager, his trainer, his corner man, several of his friends. They were all drink water, but he offered me something from the bar, and because I was all full of nerves and worried about keeping my self in my dress, I accepts and took a cranberry and vodka, mostly because asking for straight vodka just seemed a bit too desperate.

He made me the drink himself as the limo pulled away, and as he handed it to me his hand touched mine. His skin was warm and smooth, and little shots of electricity shot through my body, and my clit tingled and twitched. Desperately I was hoping I wouldn't leave a wet slime trail behind, from the amount of sloppy juice that was flowing from my pussy.

As I sipped the drink, I got lost listening to the banter of his team, all hyping him up, calling him "Champ" and such. I just smiled an nodded, secretly enjoying being this close to him, and enjoying the chance to admire his body. He was dressed again in a beautiful pin stripe suit, that was clearly tailored for him. His white collar was open and his neck looked extra thick as he sipped his water and tried to relax.

The drive wasn't much more than an hour, and when we got to the casino we were greeted by a whole crowd of people, reporters, fans and security, who met us, and whisked us through the casino, passed the arena and into the dressing rooms. He had taken me by the hand as i exited the limo, and wrapped his arm round my waist, guiding me a little as we walked. I could feel his hand at the small of my back, and part of me wanted him to go lower, but he remained a perfect gentleman. When we reached the dressing rooms he planted a gentle, unexpected, kiss on my cheek, and said gently in my ear "See you after the fight beautiful" and he walked off with his trainer and entourage. I was shown by security to one of the dressing rooms, and offered another drink, which I declined. It was barely 5pm and the fight wasn't' until 9. I suddenly found myself unsure what to do, but after a few minutes a few of his friends filtered into the dressing room I was in and soon everyone was talking about the upcoming card, his opponent, and what a win would mean for him tonight.

I won't claim to be an expert on the world of boxing, but my father, uncles and my brother would all watch the fights on HBO, and I knew enough not to sound like an complete newb. I found out he was fighting for a title tonight, and if he won it would be a really big deal for his career. I finally relented the second time someone offered my a drink and down 3 more cranberry vodkas by the time we took our seats. The under card fights were exciting, the first ended in an early knockout, but the second went 10 rounds and ended in a decision. When I saw him coming down the aisle to the ring I was absolutely mesmerized. He was in black silk trunks with a gold stripe down the side. And when he took off his black robe I got a full view of those muscles, that toned powerful body, his smooth chocolate skin. I wanted to climb aboard him right then and there and lick every inch of him.

The fight was amazing, brutal, I was sitting front row, on the edge of my seat the whole time. Watching J brutally beat another man senseless. It ended in a bloodied knock out in the 6th round. His whole entourage rushed the ring, and I was caught up in the celebrations. When he saw me he grabbed me by the waist, pulled me in close, planted a deep kiss on my lips and then spun me around and people cheered. i did my best to keep my dress down, but am quite certain the audience got a peek at my cheeks as he swung me.

They brought out the title belt and he hoisted it over his head, showing it to the audience, everyone cheering and celebrating. I was dizzy and disoriented, and next I knew we were all heading back to the dressing rooms. He disappeared a few minutes, but then returned showered, back in his suit, and now with a glass of whiskey in his hand. He tipped it back, threw that gold belt over his shoulder and pulled me close again, planting another hungry kiss on my lips.

I was too excited to think. And kissed him back eagerly.

As he pulled away, I reached out to touch the belt, admiring it.

"Can I hold it?" I asked shyly

He just smiled, put his arm on the small of my back and guided my through the throng of the crowd, back to the limo. We all packed in and the drinks were flowing, people were reveling, excitedly discussing the fights. I sat next to him this time, rather than across, Tucked into a corner. I kept touching the belt, letting my fingers glide of the leather and metal.

"Are you sure I can't hold it?" I asked?

Again he just smiled and poured another drink. Then he placed his hand comfortably on my leg, near my knee, squeezing gently. I could feel the heat rising in me. A warm sensation flushing from my pussy, through my belly and tits and to my face. Warm and tingly as he slide his hand slowly down my leg. I was desperately trying to be a good girl, but at that point he could have done anything and I would have gladly let him