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.
