The Road to Wrestlemania

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Karen jacks off her friend during the main event.
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Sean Renaud
Sean Renaud
1,347 Followers

The Road to Wrestlemania isn't just something that wrestlers get to experience. Its something for the fans as well, we spend an entire year watching our favorite wrestlers shed their blood, sweat and tears while chanting along with the live crowds. This isn't a story about how I met Trish Stratus and got the Stratusfaction I so duly deserve or a story about how my girlfriend Karen met The Rock and gave him a taste of her strudel. It's a story about all the things that happened leading up to the main event of the biggest show of them all.

First I guess I should introduce myself since its been a while since you've seen me. My name is Kristopher Renaud and I'm a Corporal in the United States Marine Corps. I stand a slender six feet tall and one hundred eighty pounds of pure milk chocolate. My hair is cut in a short traditional military style but being an African-American it doesn't really stand out most of the time. My fiancé/girlfriend/slave is named Karen. She's a red-haired vixen with bright green eyes and mocha hued skin. She isn't the perfect traditional shape, a little soft around the edges if you will but god does she have a pair of tits on her, pierced too. Together we had one awesome time on the Road to Wrestlemania.

It all started three months earlier, like everything else at Wrestlemania, with the Royal Rumble and a lot of alcohol being passed between people who alternated being too young to drink and barely old enough to purchase it. It was half way through the massive battle royale when I noticed Karen leaning up against one of my friends.

Its not that big a deal, by the time of the Rumble we only had two girls in a group of eight people and both of them had been around long enough to be very comfortable with everybody. This was instantly different though. For starters I'd been around Jet; his nickname as his real name was Cris just like mine and it caused a lot of complications, for going on eight years at this point. More than once he'd joked about how cute my girlfriend was and how easy it would be to get in her pants. It was also that while her head was resting on his soft stomach his hands were (very subtly, for a drunk) rubbing along the sides of her breast. Then there was the look in her eyes. It's something that you come to recognize in your woman. That glazed over lust that could be mistaken for intoxication by someone who didn't know her. I knew her though and that was her look.

Just so you have a better idea of who Jet is I'll give you a quick description, he's a little over six feet tall and well over two hundred pounds. I call him fat but that's because I'm in the military where everybody is either swoll or anorexic so most people would call him average. I still say he should drop like thirty pounds, regardless he has short brown hair which means it comes around his ears and the most amazing blue eyes. Like most people buy contacts to look like this man and an annoying, to some people, aura of confidence. Its one of the things we share is an overwhelming belief in Chris superiority, doesn't matter how you spell it you're still a Chris, and it carries over into most aspects of our lives. In short a lot of the same personality traits that drew her to me also kept her interested in Jet. Jet whose hand was currently stroking the felt kitten stitched onto the front of my Kitten's shirt. With a slight shrug I turned back to the match just in time to watch Stone Cold stun some third string wrestler way out in the middle of the ring.

That's the way it's always been between me and my slave. We are in love, we are lovers but we're not in lust. There is so much more that we have to offer each other than sex, or great sex, that it doesn't bother us when one wanders about. It's not really a swinging relationship where we actively hunt out new partners and we certainly don't, haven't gone hunting together. It's just that if something comes along to her interest she should go get it and so should I. I'll be the first to admit that sometimes there a pang of jealousy. Right then was one of those times because I wasn't really sure what set us two apart. Regardless sex is sex and love is love and people who confuse the two are doomed to have miserable relationships.

"Hey Renaud can you pass me a beer?" Mark called from the corner of the room. There was already a small armada of crushed cans and empty bottles lying around his supine form. He was one of three men in the room who'd already had a shot at Karen. He'd gotten his in her car about three miles up the mountain from where we were sitting. He had his blonde hair done up into spikes long enough to almost look like an anime character.

"Sure." I responded opening the cooler beside me and tossing him a can and pulling out a bottle for myself. "Anybody else?" I asked quickly scanning the room.

Eric's hand instantly shot up in response to my offer. He was the other man who'd had a taste of my Kitten and there he was smiling his goofy puppy dog smile. It would be a little more accurate to say that he raped my slave but considering how badly she'd begged for it, and her insistence that it was all her fault, we'd remained friends. I tossed him the can in my hand and continued to search the room pausing on Enrique. "Happily working on the rum." He responded raising a McDonald's cup that was close to half full of Parrot Bay rum then tilting it to his lips. You know now that I that I start thinking about it a lot of the guys here right now have had a taste of my Kitten's strudel. Enrique got his one night at the club in the back of his truck, its one of her favorite stories.

I didn't even let my gaze pause too long on Jared. Partially because he was completely absorbed in his conversation with Lia and partially because he doesn't drink. Being the other author in the group we have a bit of a special bond between us. Jared had a pair mutton chops and a personality so animated that he would have felt right at home on an episode of Looney Tunes, seriously. To this very day I wait for him to get a package in from Acme. Jared is just that animated. Since he trimmed back the chops he's definitely got a much more mature look to him, almost scholarly despite his still sophomoric fashion sense. Of course somebody who wears giant skull t-shirts and Dragonball Z shirts really doesn't have much room to talk about somebody else's fashion choices I suppose.

There wasn't much of a pause on Lia either since she was completely enraptured by Jared's insane ranting. I couldn't even piece the conversation together, something about how overhead camera shots are an indicator of death. Then he did a quick little dance, maybe it's called a jig or a soft shoe but I forget about five minutes after I'm told. The important part was that the petite blonde beauty was far to distracted to have possibly heard my call for drinks.

"Two." Came the response as my eyes finally settled on our resident married man. If his wife knew that he was here with a beer in one hand and a rum n' coke in the other ogling half naked women on and off the screen she'd shit a solid brick. I have to say most of the time I pity the big man, and he is indeed a big man. Standing at just over six feet and weighing in at well over two hundred pounds he comes with broad shoulders and a build like a linebacker. Without hesitation I tossed him one beer paused slightly and tossed a second before finally pulling one out for myself.

"Stop it." Karen whined batting away Jet's hand then "Not in front of people!" She hissed through clenched teeth trying to pull his hand from beneath her pleated pink and black plaid skirt. I only glanced back at the pair for a second half smirking before turning back to show. Behind me Jet had managed to hook his finger into the band of her thong. Of course with how short her skirt was nobody in the room could tell that it was hiked up an extra half inch. I barely caught the muted gasp of shock as he slid her thong down off her legs and into his pocket in a single smooth motion. It was a maneuver worthy of a magician, the only way you could possibly see what happened was if you weren't paying any attention to it at all.

"Relax and watch the show." Jet whispered back into her ear running his fingers through her crimson curls. "Whoa!" He shouted in response to one of the wrestlers diving from the top turnbuckle and narrowly missing the other. While the entire rest of the room cringed in sympathy pains for Matt Hardy Karen gasped at the sudden invasion of her sex. Just a single finger discreetly slipped into her puss and wriggling back and forth.

There wasn't a person in the room who was aware of what was happening just a few feet away. Part of it was that we were all drinking and watching the Royal Rumble which by this point still had a dozen competitors left to enter the huge battle. The rest of it was that he'd so subtly slipped his hand beneath her so for anybody who bothered to look over might have thought he was feeling her ass but most likely just assumed his hand was at her side. The point is that nobody was paying any attention to the occasional gasps parting her lips or even the sporadic hip thrusts since all of were twitching with each big hit on the screen.

"Jet, just wait." She gasped twisting her head slightly to face him. By now she'd scooted up so her head was resting on his chest rather than his stomach, she could have kissed him if she wanted to. Instead she just widened her eyes and stared at him pleading with him not to make her scream. A smug smirk twisted Jet's handsome face just before she squealed at the second finger slipping into her wet cunt. That time a few eyes shifted toward her as the match had come to and a full minute ago with the elimination of the Undertaker by Shawn Michaels. If she'd squealed a full minute ago when the super kick known as Sweet Chin Music had lifted the nearly seven foot tall Deadman off his feet to tumble backwards over the ropes no one would have noticed.

Even I had to watch as her mocha colored flesh darkened as she blushed. You could almost feel the heat pouring off her skin and Jet didn't let up even with the whole room filled up. "Sheesh Karen, I didn't mean to touch your ass, you just moved wrong." He grinned easily diffusing the situation. I knew what was going on so I was already handing out the next round of drinks and finishing my own.

"And now it's the time you've all been waiting for the WWE Raw Main Event." A rock and roll piece known only as The Game started blaring through the surround sound and the lights on the television dimmed. My eyes were glued to Kitten's chest, still heaving from the near orgasm Jet had given her during the last match. Even I didn't notice her untucking his t-shirt and pulling it down to the middle of his thighs and slipping her hand beneath his shirt and into his trousers. "Weighing in at two hundred and sixty seven pounds at a height of six feet and four inches Triple H!" On the screen a long haired blonde body builder strutted onto the stage past tens of thousands of booing fans. There were six more booing fans, including myself, in the room.

There were also two softly moaning fans, one with two fingers steadily pumping in and out of her slick cunt. The other with a fist wrapped around seven inches of solid flesh and steadily slipping up and down its length. If you were really paying attention to Jet you could see the strained look in his eyes and the way his jaw was set and twitching. Nothing else gave away that his cock head was slick with pre-cum that my Kitten was expertly stroking.

"The challenger!" A song entitled Ass Man started filled the room this time accompanied by a pretty blonde man strutting backwards onto the stage. Above him the Titantron, a giant screen, displayed a pair of red lips with the name Mr. Ass. "Weighing in at two hundred and twenty three pounds at a height of six foot two Bad Ass Billy Gun!" The wrestler with the pink trunks with the green lips slid under the bottom ropes. Before Mr. Ass's music even stopped he'd laid into Triple H with a furious series of punches to the skull backing him into the corner.

My attention was only partially on the action in the ring now. It hadn't taken me too long to figure out what was actually happening in the room. Sometime between when he slipped his third finger into her cunt and when he'd started running his thumb around her puckered anus she'd stopped timing her moans with the in ring action. Of course it wasn't like Jet was doing any better a job of hiding his pleasure. If anybody had even bothered to look at him they could have noticed that his eyes were focused on some point of interest just slightly to the right of the screen. He wasn't moaning in time with the action either, he was completely silent.

"Oh my god his skull has to be crushed after that. Is he ok?" On announcer shouted as Mr. Ass performed his signature move, the Fame-asser, off the second ropes. "This has got to be it folks. It's been an amazing match but I don't see how any man could get up after that." The fact that Jet didn't so much as grunt in response to his favorite wrestler taking such a brutal hit should have been a dead give away that he wasn't paying attention.

"Damn!" I shouted flipping onto my stomach in imitation of the referee. "One! Two!" Just before my hand impacted the carpet for the third time Triple h thrust his shoulder up off the mat much to everybody's surprise.

Karen bit down on her lower lip chewing it lightly to keep herself from shrieking. An excellent move on her part though she could probably have gotten away with it as it would have been timed Triple H viciously cracking a steel chair against Mr. Ass's skull knocking him down. A second strike bent the chair in half but that wasn't good enough for the champion who struck the man a third time before abandoning the chair. I could hear Karen's muffled scream over the disgusted boos of the crowd and pained hisses in the room.

"There is no way he can last much longer." There really wasn't, Mr. Ass was covered in blood looking out at the world through a crimson mask and Cris's face was starting to bead up with little sweat spots as he refrained from grunting or groaning in response. It's a position I've been in more than once so I can honestly say that I feel his pain. It's not an easy thing to keep from making any sound as when Karen's working you over. She has very talented fingers.

"Don't do it! For the love of humanity don't do it he's already beaten! This is just sick that Hunter would use him to send a message." As the announcer lamented the fate of Mr. Ass, Hunter pulled performed the Pedigree. There was a sickening thud as Billy Gun's head bounced off the already dented steel chair. As he rolled over he left a red smear across the metal and onto the mat beneath.

"Fuck." I muttered disappointed in my chosen warrior but quickly returning to all fours counting with the ref. "One!" Karen's back arched as if she were trying to "kick out" but in reality she was trying to get closer to the source of her pleasure. "Two!" Cris shuddered creaming Karen's knuckles and his belly at the same time. "Three!" They both screamed in ecstasy but it was masked by the combined on screen and in room cries of disappointment.

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Sean Renaud
Sean Renaud
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