"What a day, Ziegfried! It was unreal!" I was ecstatic, but I wasn't sure if my feline pet cared. He stared lazily up at me as I walked in the door, recklessly tossing my keys over the hotel room table and onto the floor.
"I fucked Trish Stratus, Zieg! And I was better than I have been in years, might I add." I was grinning down at the furry critter like a total idiot, but that's the great thing about your pets: they really don't care how stupid you can be. He just trotted over to his food dish as if it were just another day. Didn't he realize I had just screwed one of the most beautiful women in the 'sports entertainment' industry? The half-hearted purr he emitted seemed to confirm that he didn't.
In case you missed my exploits (for shame), I had recently attempted a shower rape of the delectable Ms. Stratus during my regular work day as one of the lowly WWF crewmen. Not only did the attempt go as I had planned, she had actually ENJOYED the whole she-bang (no pun intended)! Afterwards, we had dressed and talked like any two normal adults. She even invited me out for dinner on one of her off-days, as crazy as that sounds. I was lucky not to get hauled off to jail, frankly.
After feeding Ziegfried and preparing a simple meal for myself, I headed to bed. Dragging steel bars and heavy cable for Vince McMahon all day made you kinda tired, or so 2 years of doing so had taught me.
As I lay awake, I imagined the possibilities for the 'Smackdown!' taping the following evening. Should I surprise Trish again or attempt a whole new WWF starlet conquest? My newfound attitude of live-for-the-moment had served me well once so far, and now that Trish had told me all the WWF talent were usually starved for sex due to their nomadic lifestyle, I could only figuratively drool at the opportunities laying before me. There were numerous very attractive ladies employed by the WWF at the moment, and the majority of them would be at the taping.
I drifted off to sleep with the beginnings of a plan to seduce them rolling about in my head...
* * *
My work for the day had ended. The 'Smackdown!' stage was up and looking as blue as ever, while I trotted confidently backstage towards the women's locker room. I had foolishly informed Trish of my plans to satisfy the other women of the WWF; like the a-typical man I stood there recounting who I would like to fuck and in which position to the buxom blonde without even thinking that it might anger her. Thankfully, it didn't. She was a surprisingly understanding woman, and she had even given me some inside information into when I should strike the ladies' locker room for my best angle of attack. Truth be told, I think she was a little turned-on at the prospects of this sort of casual sex inside the usually platonic WWF employee circle.
I fiddled with my large key chain, the one which my supervisor trusted to me and that happened to open the overwhelming majority of backstage doors. If only he knew what I was using it for!
Soon I arrived and after peering around to make sure no one else was in the hallway, I pressed my ear into the grey metal door. Shockingly, I heard faint female moaning from inside. A wry grin twitched at the corners of my mouth as I recognized one of the voices as the well-endowed Torrie Wilson. The other voice was female as well and although it was also familiar, I couldn't put a name-to-moan. I wonder if Trish knew that the other WWF girls had found a way to quench their lust. Maybe she was even involved...
I quietly tried the doorknob and wasn't surprised to find it locked. I slid the correct key into the slot, then checked the hallway again to be sure I was alone. After finding I was, I gathered my courage and stepped inside the locker room.
Stacy Kiebler was gently suckling on Torrie Wilson's left breast while her hand methodically stroked the area between Torrie's legs. Both were stark naked and completely taken aback as I gently shut and locked the door behind me.
"Who the hell are you?!" Torrie yelped, drawing away from her long-legged companion and trying to cover her ample bosom with her right arm. Stacy merely rolled her eyes and made no attempt to be modest.
"This is that guy Trish was blabbering about, you dumbshit. He's got the messy brown hair and the goofy grin just like she was saying, and he has the keys for everything too." she put a hand on her hip, looking at me like I was a piece of meat ready to be hoisted above the campfire.
"Yeah...uh... that's me, all right." I barely managed to spout out. My eyes wandered all over the two of them and I had little sense to try not to make it so apparent. Stacy was quite tall, packing small but enticing breasts topped with tiny pale nipples and a trim patch of brown hair between her mile-long legs. She didn't seem in the slightest bit nervous or surprised. Torrie, on the other hand, had large Trish-sized tits that were barely obscured by her skinny arm and a completely shaven cunt. Unlike Stacy, her eyes were wide with fear and she made every attempt to hide her nudity from my prying gaze.
"We weren't doing what you think, you know." Torrie explained, "We were getting dressed."
"He's so not gonna buy that, you pea-brained retard." Kiebler cocked her head and looked over at her friend, if you could call them such.
"Okay, so maybe we were messing around. So what? What the hell do you want, anyway? Can't you see we're busy? Get out!" the words spilled out of Torrie's mouth at a pace I could hardly keep up with.
"Shut up, idiot. We could have even more fun with this guy here, don't you get it? Were you even listening to Trish's story?" Stacy seemed to get more exasperated with every passing second.
"I don't know, Stace... Can we trust him?"
"Sure you can, ladies. I won't tell a word." I wasn't sure whether I sounded confident or just desperate.
