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Wrestling, with a Fetish

Anal

Being a fan of pro-wrestling can be a lot of fun. But actually, being a pro-wrestler is even more enjoyable. True, like any job at introductory level, the first few years are possibly the worst. It can take its toll on the mind, the body, and even the bank account. Most don’t even make beyond the Indy promotions because they work a primary job to keep the bills paid. And being honest, the amount of pain we go through in the ring, you might as well admit to being a masochist.

Anyone who says wrestling is fake honestly doesn’t know shit. Yeah, the endings and rivalries are scripted. A blind person could clearly see that. Yes, certain moments in matches where we do something inside or outside the ring causes fans to leap from their seats and cheer, those are planned in advance. But the majority of the match is made up on the go. And yes, it is painful.

Having a grown man’s open palm “chop” you across the bare chest will sting for hours. The ring ropes are actually steel cables with a thin covering. So when “running the ropes” those things bite the shit outta’ you. Ever seen us bleed? That’s real blood, done by the act of “gigging” where a small razor is snuck to us and we make a small, gentle cut into our foreheads knowing we will bleed like someone poured a cherry slushie on our crowns. And lastly the “bumps”. Every slam, fall, dive, you name it, we feel it. Sure, the casual fan will say “well the ring bounces so it absorbs the fall.” Yeah, but it’s not a trampoline either. That’s thick plywood on top of a half-ass spring suspension, covered by a thin stunt mat, covered by the actual ring mat. Hell, people get rugburn on it. But I’ll tell you this: every time you hear your music play, the fans scream your name, and the thunderous applause of cheers and claps for a good match… all that pain goes away, if momentarily.

But back to my point of pro-wrestling being fun. In spite of the pain, we get to see a lot of the country, and if lucky enough other parts of the world. The fans are amazing and I’d be lying if I said we didn’t appreciate every comment made about us, good or bad. We develop bonds similar to actual family. Not unlike how “the crew” is in the Fast and Furious franchise. And the number of shenanigans happening backstage or on the road or at the hotels are always worth remembering. Saying that brings me to a moment I’ll never forget.

I started working for a major promotion for several weeks, three months at best. I wasn’t under a tiered contract. So, funding for food and travel came out of my pocket. And a number of times I had to find my own place to stay if I couldn’t find anyone to let me bunk with them. If you saw me on tv I wasn’t recognizable. I was a security guard who helped separate two wrestlers going on a rampage against each other during a promo. The few times I was having a match on live tv, I didn’t look anything like myself. My ring gear, my physical appearance, hell even my “pro-name” was changed. Soley for the purpose of being in squash matches against bigger talent. The matches I did truly wrestle in were “Dark” matches. The kind that don’t get recorded for tv, and mine weren’t even filmed for YouTube. But during those matches I got to be myself and I shined like a damn lighthouse in a foggy night near the wavy shore. I was also becoming pretty popular among my peers.

One day I arrived at an arena early, as did most of the other wrestlers. My Dark match was set to happen before the start of the live show, so I had that as the primary thought on my mind. Before getting dressed for the bout, I found myself doing what so many of my coworkers do: Exploring every inch of the arena, assisting in building the ring/stage, hanging out in random locations, playing whatever backstage games are happening, and occasionally being filmed with whomever was vlogging at the time.

Finally ready for my match, I wound up wondering around and heading to catering. The plan was to get a quick protein snack before my match. By chance I happened across two people you may have heard of: Egon Sage and Carmen Solo, Egon was vlogging. I found out later in the night, Sage and Solo were “arguing” about two fast food joints, and which was the better of the two. Egon was grabbing anyone nearby and asking them to participate, as if trying to make it a point that his choice was the better. Egon saw me coming and of course asked for my input.

As I approached, I couldn’t help but notice what they were wearing. Solo was always a stunning woman. Her hair was multicolored via some sort of washable spray on product. Her skin was an artificial gold caused by the spray tanning she used before getting dressed. Her clothes managed to cover up her numerous tattoos. She was wearing acid washed blue jeans that had several holes and rips throughout. A pink colored shirt with the company’s logo on it, in recognition of breast cancer awareness month. And tennis shoes that looked like the love child between Vans and Chuck Taylors. Sage was a stark contrast. He looked asyabahis yeni giriş like someone swallowed a Miami Vice Clothing Catalogue and puked all over him. It was obvious neither of them was there to wrestle but to cut promos, and possibly get into a fight.

When I got close enough, Egon asked me which of the two franchises I preferred. To be honest I still had my match more on my mind than anything. And because of that the filter between brain and mouth had completely disappeared. What I said next took all of us a bit by surprise. I looked at Egon, then to Carmen, then back to Egon and spoke.

“You know I have a major crush on Carmen, so my answer might be pretty biased.”

Egon laughed like a maniac, his camera shaking like crazy. Carmen quickly turned and grabbed me by my jacket, flexing her muscles as if trying to lift me off the ground. I played along and stood on my toes to keep it funny. Considering she’s 5’6″ and I’m 6′ even, it certainly helped get the joke over. Egon recovered and was able to record what came out of my mouth next. Staring right into Carmen’s eyes, the look on my face was somewhere between a flirt, a dare, and a joke. Mind you, the filter had already disappeared. What I said next knocked the whole coffee pot over.

“Carmen, I love you. And I’d be more than willing to massage both of your feet, a minute each for every step you take tonight. But you do not scare me.”

She released my jacket and immediately sunk to the floor. Ass on the ground, knees to her chest, arms wrapped around her legs, and her head lowered so nobody could see her face. She didn’t do this because she was upset. Or horribly embarrassed. She did it because she was laughing so hard, she couldn’t breathe, and didn’t want others to see her snort laughing. However, others did notice and a few came to see if she was okay. I had to keep moving because my match was going to start soon. Sage vlogged the whole thing.

The match would go greatly and the fans who made it to the arena prior to showtime gave me and my opponent a standing ovation. It made me feel good to be in the place I was at. But I was sore and needed to see “The Doc” like so many of us do after every match. Once finished with “The Doc”, I showered and changed back into some casual clothes and watched the rest of the show from whatever monitor I could find, or sneaking peaks from behind the stage curtain.

The rest of the show went great and everyone had a good time. But the night was coming to an end and it was time to get to the hotel. I was thankful the company made arrangements for me to stay in the same place as everyone else. I had grown tired of paying out of pocket for a place to sleep. It’s common that wrestlers like to hang out in one another’s hotel rooms and stay up damn near all night, and I honestly wasn’t any different. In one room they played videogames, and in another they played Uno. I played a few rounds in both rooms but went back to mine for a snack.

It’s not common knowledge if anyone finds out you have snacks, they will raid your supply without mercy or remorse. And though I try to be a nice guy and team player, I wasn’t about to let anyone steal from my supply hidden in my suitcase, which was sitting on the bed. Before I could even treat myself, there was a gentle knock at my door. Naturally I groaned like a child, not wanting to share. So, I hid my stash back in my luggage and went to answer the door. Waiting on the other side was a massive surprise.

There stood Carmen Solo. Her hair, a soft brown color, looked slightly damp and completely clean of the sprayed in coloring from earlier. Her skin was returned to its natural cream color, which showed off her now revealed tattoos. Whatever soap she used must have been given to her by God to scrub away that spray tan. And her clothes. She was wearing “boy shorts”, a slightly oversized and buttoned up flannel shirt, and black flip flops, matching the polish on her fingers and toes.

“Hey.” she said.

“Hi.” I spoke back.

“Could I come in please, I need to ask you a question?”

“Ye-yeah. C’mon in.”

Carmen quickly looked down both directions of the hallway before stepping into my room. To be honest I was starting to worry. I shut the door and locked the dead bolt, increasing the security of us being alone, for whatever reason it was happening. Turning around I saw Carmen standing at the end of the bed. Her body language leaning more toward shyness rather than her common confidence she displays in the ring. I walked up to her and got a better look before me. Her hair was indeed still damp from whatever shower she just had, and there was a slight shine across her skin.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just… ” she trailed off.

“What?”

“Did you mean what you said tonight?”

I had forgotten what I said, I just remember saying something that made her breakdown hyper laughing. I figured I’d play it smart, embracing the good memory.

“Yeah, asyabahis giriş why?”

Carmen then reached into the back pocket of her boy shorts and retrieved her cell phone. Tinkering with it for a brief sec, she then brought up an app. The app was linked to her Fitbit watch, and the number displayed was how many steps she had taken since the end of the show. It was a moderately high number for such a short amount of time. My eyes returned to hers and that shyness disappeared. That’s when it hit me. It was lotion which explained the shine on Carmen’s body. Being alone in my room for such a short moment allowed the distinct aroma to fill my nostrils.

It smelled like a setup.

Carmen fell backwards onto the bed. She was lucky not to hit my suitcase on the way down. As her body bounced on the mattress, her legs kicked and her black flip flops went flying. One hit me right on the chin. I was too stunned to even notice I’d been struck. Carmen; however, started snort laughing again. This broke me out of my trance and I found myself laughing with her. But the moment was short lived as Carmen stared flexing her soles and wiggling her toes.

“Well, get to work. You literally have a lot of time on your hands.”

She adjusted herself so that her feet were dangling off the edge of the bed. At this point I felt I was backed completely into a corner. Yes, I have the fetish, and yeah, I’m good at foot rubs. But here I was, new guy in the company, and this beautiful woman had more tenure than me. She had a Tier 3 contract. And anything that happened would be my word against hers, for better or worse. I figured if I had to massage her feet so I could get a few steps closer to earning a legitimate contract, then I needed to play along. Feeling like I had no options, I did what I was told.

Her feet were quite dainty, matching the rest of her beauty. Her arches were pretty average, super soft soles with zero flaws, and toes in a cute descending order of size and length. It made me wonder how many others she’d put into my position. Grabbing a nearby chair I pulled it to the end of the bed. My hands moved for her feet, slightly trembling from surprise or shock. But when my fingers finally connected with her soft flesh, my resolve returned. My motions were strong and her little gasps and moans of approval told me everything. In spite of the circumstance, she was now puddy in my hands.

While massaging her feet, Carmen and I made small talk. We discussed her journey into the life of the squared circle. Her responses weren’t quick and often in mumbles or jolts. Any time she tried to speak I’d work a pressure point in her feet guaranteed to hit pleasure nerves elsewhere in her body. Sure, I was manipulating her, but I suppose she didn’t have any issues about what I was doing. Otherwise, she would have complained and made a scene for the whole hotel to hear. When she wasn’t talking, she had discovered and helped herself to my supply of snacks hidden in my suitcase, primarily the two packs of original flavored Skittles.

Before long I glanced at the clock and noticed an hour had passed. Using both hands I did indeed spend sixty minutes for sixty steps. But I remembered the number on her app and I had a long way to go. Not to say I wasn’t enjoying myself but I knew doing it in one night was impossible. Noticing my attention was elsewhere, Carmen pulled a foot from my hand and shuffled herself so she could playfully kick me in the side of the head with her sole.

“Uh uh,” waving her foot near my face “you’re on my time now.”

A streak of boldness overcame me and I took a hold of the same foot, brought it even closer to my face and gave her big toe the trifecta: a kiss, a lick, and a nibble. She laid on the bed, frozen in place, as if turned to stone after gazing into Madusa’s eyes. I could feel all of my blood rushing, not in a good way. In fact, I was pretty sure I was about to start bleeding out my butt from the amount of trouble I was going to be in. I heard her inhale slowly and I prepared my ears for the scream about to be heard by the entire city.

“D-do that again.”

Not a scream? Was I dead? Had I been screamed at, arrested, fired, died and not even realized it?

“What?”

Carmen positioned herself on the bed so she was still laying down but her torso was resting on her elbows. She wanted to look me in the eyes while repeating herself.

“Do that again. That thing you did to my toe.”

Her voice was no longer shy or confident. This was entirely new. It was curiosity. Given the circumstance I knew better than to not do what was told. I took hold of her foot, leaned in close and delivered the trifecta again. A kiss, a lick, and then a nibble. I looked up to see her biting her bottom lip in a way that said more than words could. I decided to be just a little bolder. She seemed to enjoy it on the one, and she had four other toes left. My mouth moved along the assembly line of delicate flesh. Her eyes spoke what her asyabahis güvenilirmi mouth couldn’t. At first, they were open wide, and then slowly closed. All while still biting her lower lip. She finally made a pleasurable moan when I made my boldest move yet and took her big toe between my lips and started sucking, while massaging the padding of the toe with my tongue, and using both hands to massage the pressure points in her instep. This caused her to feel good in all sorts of places.

At this point I was damn near possessed and could not control myself. I treated each of her toes the same way before giving her sole and heel the trifecta as well. But I could see her other foot had not experienced this enjoyment and I didn’t want it to be left out. Within minutes my lips and tongue were busy as hell on both of her feet. Carmen had fallen back onto the bed and the open pack of Skittles had landed on its side, causing a few of them to scatter on the mattress.

“Hey wait, hold up.” she said, reaching for the scattered candy “I want to try something.”

Grabbing what she needed, she brought her feet into her hands. I tried not to look at what she was doing, as I wanted to be surprised at whatever she was attempting. When finished she carefully planted her feet back at the edge of the bed. I then noticed she had taken the time to wedge a single Skittle between each of her toes.

“Okay, what now?” I asked.

“You have your fun, and I’ll have mine.” she spoke in a sexy voice I’d never heard before.

Considering how enthusiastic I was behaving with her feet in my mouth, I guess she finally realized this was my kink. Not wanting to waste a good moment, my hands, lips, and tongue went back to work. My thumbs rubbed into her arches while my lips and tongues played with her toes. I had an idea run through my mind and so I took my time licking between each of her toes and flicking the Skittles wedged between them with the tip of my tongue. The idea was to send a message letting her know what I’d do if my lips and tongue were between her legs. She did indeed get the message as she laid back onto the bed and snuck one hand under her shirt, and the other hand into her shorts.

By the time the Skittles were licked away and both feet were covered in a great amount of my slobber, I could hear Carmen’s breathing becoming quick and shaky. Her hand was moving furiously between her legs, while her hips rocked to meet the motion of her fingers. I knew she was enjoying herself a lot but I knew there was a way I could do more for her. To pull her out of her trance I took all of her toes from one foot into my mouth and bit down on them. Not enough to cause pain, but it certainly snapped her back into reality for just a moment.

“Lffee hellmf ooo wit daff” I spoke with a mouthful of her foot.

“Wha-What?” she whimpered, broken away from her blissful feeling.

I pulled her foot from my mouth, still warm and gooey with my saliva.

“Let me help you with that.”

I didn’t give her much of a chance to say anything. I moved onto the bed, kissing my way up her legs until I was at the edge of her shorts. My hands took hold of them and gently started to pull. To my surprise she wasn’t wearing underwear, and the crotch of the shorts were creamy with her nectar. My hands moved further up, unbuttoning her flannel shirt. She wasn’t wearing undies, so it was less surprising she wasn’t wearing a bra. Part of me wanted to let my mind wonder if all this was truly a setup by her, or things were just moving along at their natural speed. The blood rushing into my dick told me to stay in the moment and not fuck up a good thing.

I moved further up the bed and took one of Carmen’s nipples into my lips. I treated the flesh the same way I treated her toes. At the same time my hand was between her legs. Fingers sliding between her swollen nether lips, and using the tip of my fingers to rub and tap against her sensitive pearl. If I knew Morse Code, I would have flicked her bean, repeatedly tapping “orgasm” over and over until she finally had one. I pulled my lips from her tit and finally got face to face with her. Our lips locked just as my fingers curled inward and started massaging her gspot. Carmen cried out in pleasure and I remembered every fingering technique from every porn video I ever watched. Within seconds Carmen was squirting against my palm.

It’s funny how the situation developed. Moments ago, I was terrified her screaming would be heard by everyone, and the world would think of me as some massive perv. Now I had hoped everyone could hear her screaming, and all of them knowing that somewhere in the entire hotel, a beautiful woman was having a great time.

I didn’t want to lose our built momentum, so I lowered myself so my body caused her to open her legs as widely as needed, knees bent and soles pressed into the mattress. My tongue wasted no time going for her clit, flicking the bean rapidly over and over. Following this I fattened my tongue and pressed it as deeply possible between her lower lips. I thrusted my tongue in and out, each time her nethers tried to grab my pallet and not let go. Then I took long licks, dragging my tongue between her folds and giving her pearl a quick but enjoyable smack with the tip.

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