It was the middle of the night, almost 2 a.m.
I woke up to the sound of someone moaning. Very loudly. For a moment I thought I was dreaming the sound but it didn't cease as I slowly shook myself awake.
It took an entire minute to realize that it was my wife who was the source of this sound.
She was in the master bedroom, across the corridor, having sex with our boyfriend.
In instant response, my shriveled up penis, locked up in a plastic cage, hardened, or at least tried to.
I grunted in frustration. Reaching down, I tugged slightly at my prison. It refused to budge even slightly. If anything, my penis got harder and more uncomfortable.
I sighed and turned over. Covering my head with my pillow I attempted to go back to sleep. The moaning turned into screaming. Goddamn,
It was going to be a long night.
**********
My name is Jason Monard. I'm a New Yorker, born and brought up in Long Island. One fourth Italian and one fourth Arabic. A strange genetic makeup for sure. I went to a local high school, attended community college and graduated 5th in my class. What did I study? Business administration. What did I want to do? Wrestle. Pro-wrestling was my great love. I'd watched it on TV since I was 4 years old and it sure had sown it's seeds in me.
It was the early 2000s when I started going to college. It was also the time pro wrestling really took off around the world. I'd been to a few local matches but nothing of real significance. My training had started when I was a teen, attending classes at a nearby gym and I'd gone there for the better part of 5 years. When I'd finally graduated and was headed off to college, my trainer deemed me ready to compete. At just 18 years, 2 months , I was able to compete in only friendly matches with the boys of gym and maybe a couple of other wrestling gyms in the neighborhood. It was around this time that I met Lily.
She'd attended one of my matches and then hung around afterwards to talk to us. It'd been me and a buddy, Mark Chong. I'd lost but it'd been a great match and I had fun. Plus he was a couple of years more experienced than me so I got to learn quite a few things.
Sara was one of the last people around when I came out of the shower.
She turned to me and smiled a million watt smile. "I really like your hair."
I'd been pleasantly surprised. Back when I watched my heroes compete in the ring, one of the things that really struck me was their hair. Id made up my mind since the very beginning that I wanted long hair. As I grew older I realised this was altogether perfectly commonplace in pro wrestling. Almost everybody grew their hair out. However I took extra care and maintained my hair very well, hence there was a certain pride I had attached to my hair.
At the point of meeting Sara, my hair reached down to the middle of my back, was a little curly, I was very proud of it.
I grinned at her
"Thank you. I work hard to maintain this mane."
She sniggered.
"Was that you trying to make a pun?"
"Of course not", I tried to appear stoic. "That was a coincidence."
She smirked slightly.
"Well is it a coincidence that the two of us are the last people in here?"
I looked around. There was not a soul in sight except the cleaners.
"Well, how about we go grab a drink then, seeing as how coincidental this is."
