They shook.
The ropes, I mean. They shook as Trish Stratus bounced off them, then dashed to the other side of the ring. Clad in sweatpants and a loose t-shirt, she was still very striking as she warmed up in the near-empty arena.
Near-empty save for me, that is. Myself, a smattering of other ring crewmen, and Stratus herself were all the human life in the arena that brisk afternoon. As I thought about it, that wasn't completely true. Other WWF talent and crew were backstage, but we few were the only people present in the open-seating section of the arena at the moment. It would be packed with fans in a few hours, of course, but it was mostly empty for now.
My muscles ached after hours of physical labour and little sleep the night before, but now that my job of lifting boards and attaching cables was finished for the day, I had decided to relax in one of the numerous ringside seats and observe some of the wrestlers preparing for the coming evening. After watching sweaty, half-naked men such as Chris Jericho and the simply-named Test for the past half-hour, Trish was a welcome change.
Despite her lack of make-up and loose-fitting attire, she was still extremely beautiful. Her blonde hair fanned out behind her as she leaned into the bright red ropes and her flat, tanned stomach made a brief appearance when her shirt skewed as she raced across the ring.
Now I don't consider myself a pervert, but at moments like this my hormones tend to get the best of me. A lack of sex in recent weeks (okay, months) and an overactive imagination made Stratus' warm-up the highlight of my day. I found myself mentally removing her black t-shirt and picturing her soft, creamy skin pulsating beneath my fingertips as I ran them up her belly to grasp one of her large, perfect-
She was leaving the ring now, thus ruining the imagery for my fantasy. I swore under my breath, but then an idea struck me and I could almost see the figurative light-bulb blink into existence above my head. I knew she would be heading to the showers backstage, and I still had the keys for the majority of the rooms in the arena on my person. I'm sure you can guess what I had in mind...
With that, I resigned to end my marathon run of sex-less nights with one crazy, stupid and altogether wrong coupling with the delectable Stratus. She would resist; I would be fired and most likely arrested, but in my hormone-enraged mind it was all justifiable. Besides, I was tired of being a boring, average shmuck. For once in my uneventful life, I would be wild and unpredictable. At the very least, I would get to live a fantasy every male WWF fan has, and probably some female fans as well.
So off I went, setting a frantic pace through the corridors of the backstage area. I bumped into a variety of other WWF employees in my haste, but I forced myself not to apologize or make any indication that I cared. All a part of my new attitude, you know. Within minutes, I arrived at the door to the showers.
I fumbled with the keys as the distant sound of running water played across my ears, like some sort of music setting a precursor to my upcoming conquest. Since only one gender was allowed to use the showers at a time and Trish was the only female who had worked up a sweat all day, the odds were in my favour that I would find her naked and engulfed in steam instead of that 6'6" muscle-bound Test... I said a quick prayer after that disturbing thought, and finally managed to slide the correct key into the lock. I turned the knob, and put myself into the hands of destiny.
As I expected, the room was hot, wet and steamy on the inside. I locked the door behind me, then peered into the mist as best I could. Since I could barely see five feet in front of me, the only thing which caught my eye was the pile of clothes sitting on a bench directly to my left. A black t-shirt, black sweatpants and a white pair of thong underwear. Besides the panties, I recognized the apparel as Ms. Stratus'.
Thanking any and all Gods for my luck, I quickly undressed and tossed my clothes at my feet. Naked and sweating from the intense heat, I pressed on into the humid fog. My ears led me in the direction of the noisy water, and soon I came upon the object of my desires.
Words could hardly describe what I saw, but given the medium I suppose they'll have to do. She was absolutely breathtaking, facing away from me; head upturned to the streaming water. Her bronze skin and damp blonde hair invited my newly-found philosophy like the Serpent tempted Eve. Her ass was muscular, yet still distinctly feminine and extremely beautiful. It seemed to beckon to me, and I decided then that it would be my safehaven to prevent unwanted pregnancy on both her part and mine. I had never tried anal sex before, and I hoped she hadn't either. A day of firsts, as it were.
Stepping up behind her, the smell of shampoo assaulted my senses. I could make out the swell of her large breasts from this vantage point, and my cock swelled despite the slight fear that coursed through my veins. Her small hands ran a bar of blue soap over her tanned legs, and I decided that now was as good a time as any to make my move.
I slid a hand over her mouth, and pulled her soft, supple body into mine. She became stiff with surprise, then the stuggle began. She stepped on my foot as hard as she could, and managed to strike me with a fist in my side, but years of physical labour for the WWF had made me quite strong and I held my grip firm. She flailed and tried in vain to scream, but I didn't relent and before long all the fight had drained out of her from over-exertion.
I reached out and massaged her right breast, it's weight and shape seemed to mold to my hand perfectly. To my surprise, her nipple hardened and poked into my palm. Perhaps the lonely life of a WWF employee had depraved her as it had me.
I leaned over and whispered into her ear, "I won't hurt you if you co-operate, understand?"
I could see the fear in her eyes as she nodded slowly. I could also see the large areola of her left breast and the eraser-sized nipple protruding from it which only drove my lust farther. I pressed my cock into her soft ass, hinting at what was to come. She didn't resist, to my delight.
"Scream and you'll regret it." I said, surprising myself with the conviction in my voice. All that work as a stagehand, and my true calling was as a shower rapist. I chuckled inside my head.
I slowly withdrew my hand from her pouty lips. Thankfully, she heeded my warning and kept quiet.
