The Wrestler is a Chris Jackson original fiction and is not to be posted or shared without my permission. All characters involved in sexual acts are 18 years old or older, and so should the audience.
None of the wrestlers or the brand are real.
“This is Wayne,” I said into my phone.
“Hey big man. I know it’s your day off, but do you have any plans?” I should have known it would be my boss. If he called on my day off, it meant he was renting out my services.
“What do you want?” My voice came out gruff as I cut to the chase. I was never one for small talk.
“I have a job for you, if you want it.” Josh was hoping I would chipper up a bit. I just waited for the rest of the pitch. “There’s a wrestling house show, and they’re a little short staffed on security.” It was the time of COVID. Who wasn’t short staffed?
“Alright. I’m in,” I shrugged as if he could see me. “You have good timing. I’m only two beers in.”
“Wayne, it’s fucking noon.” The disgust in his voice made me smile.
“I know what time it is. When do I need to be there?” Jokes aside, I was all business. I hadn’t been drinking, but I thought it was funny. My false reputation meant the world to me.
“7 p.m. work?”
“Yeah,” I said flatly and hung up. He would text me the details later. Tonight was going to be an easy $250. I hoped my research on what the brand’s payout was had been correct.
After the call, I laid around and caught up on the latest Televised Wrestling Federation news. It was scripted sports, but it was entertaining, nonetheless.
There were some gorgeous talents on there, namely Gia Sanchez and my personal heart throb, Jasmine Crane.
By the time I was caught up, had dinner knocked, and cleaned up, it was time for me to head to the center.
I arrived just as the staff started showing up. I took my place alongside the other security guys. We had to make sure the lines stayed orderly when the performers made their entrances to the center.
The crowd cheered for their favorite stars as they showed up. Even I broke stance and stole a glance once I heard the name I was hoping for—Jasmine Crane.
Jasmine Crane was blowing kisses to fans, smiling and waving. She winked in my general direction, but it could have been to anyone.
I stole a quick glance at her ass, so healthily encased in black Lycra leggings. Her leather jacket suited her fiery personality and bad girl image well. She certainly had the body of a goddess.
Crane was short for a wrestler, being 5’3. But she was agile, flexible, and was built like a gymnast. Her long blonde hair looked silky and was always impeccable, even in the ring.
Once she was inside, I was back to my professional self. Blending in and looking like their usual security wasn’t as hard as I expected.
When the show was on, I was assigned to ring duty. I was dressed up as a casual fan; except I was authorized to concealed carry for security reasons. CPLs don’t usually apply to sports arenas. As a paid guard and not a show prop, however, I was given authorization.
I got a free show, plus $250 to make sure the viewers didn’t pull some shit. Nobody did, of course.
During Jasmine Crane’s match with Robyn–who was TWF trash–Robyn caught Crane unaware. Robyn sent her over the ropes with a roundhouse kick. Crane tumbled down and hit her pretty head off the side of the apron before landing hard on her back. It didn’t look fake at all.
Jasmine came to and sat up, propped up on her hands. She slowly shook her head side-to-side. Her eyes settled on me for a brief second. I saw legitimate pain there before she gave me a shaky smile.
The poor thing could see I was legitimately worried. She winked and briskly got back up to her feet. Jasmine had no idea I was hired staff. She must have thought I was a concerned fan. That also was true, though.
Watching wrestling events live was fantastic. You can catch precise things that cameras cannot quite catch. There is a connection in real eye to eye moments that cameras lose. A certain spirit that cannot be transfer through TV. I was here for those instances, eating up every one.
Jasmine was sluggish after regaining her feet. She missed some staged moves, but she was able to stick close enough to the script. Jazz won the fight with a real-looking Diving Crane, her signature move, off the second turnbuckle instead of the usual third. That was not a good sign.
“Wayne, come here.” One of the regular security guys signaled to me after the show.
“What’s up?” I followed him as he led the way backstage.
“Listen up.” I liked the respect he commanded. “You heard about Sonya Crush? She was stalked recently. Dude was caught trying to break into her house. A few of the performers–men and women’s division–are a little shaken up by it.”
“I follow.” We were making our way back to the sports medicine trainer’s office. He didn’t give me any shit, and I wasn’t going to give him any. This dude was not only way fucking bigger than me, but he clearly ran things back here.
“Jasmine Crane has a minor concussion after that fight. With everything going on, we would feel a lot safer if you got her to her hotel safe. You feel me?”
“Absolutely, sir.” I nodded as he opened the door to reveal Jasmine sitting on the exam table.
She was still in her ring gear with an ice pack held to her head. Her outfit consisted of knee-high leather wrestling boots, kneepads, hot pants, and a crop top that showed off her delicious abdominal muscles. Jasmine Crane looked pop-punk, like she wanted to bar fight while listening to Thin Lizzy.
“Hey Jazz.” The much larger guard casually waved to her as we walked in. “This is Wayne. He’ll make sure you get back to the hotel okay.”
“Wayne? Like from Letterkenny?” A dopey, silly smile lit up her pretty face. That’s a show we both got behind. It made me crack a smile, too.
“I get that a lot.” I offered her a hand. She shook it and used me to pull herself to her feet.
“I need to get clothed–I mean changed–and then we can go.” Crane shook her head at her slip. Jasmine was obviously discombobulated. I offered an arm, which she took, just in case she needed it.
We walked quietly through the halls of the center until we came to the girls’ locker room. “I’ll wait here.”
“Probably for the best,” she concurred and slipped inside.
I wasn’t proud of it, but I stole another look at that high and tight ass of hers. It was the kind of bottom you could bounce quarters off.
Jasmine took longer than I expected was her normal time. She was still back at my side faster than I predicted, though.
“Ready to get you back?” I asked.
Jasmine took it upon herself to straighten my hat. It was a TWF cap they gave me as a ‘thank you’ for picking up the job.
I didn’t spring it on her yet, but I was going to swallow my pride and ask her to sign it before I left her for the night.
“Yup. See anything unusual?” Jasmine asked. We started following exits and ‘Parking 🔜’ signs. A smile was on her model-pretty face as she watched me work.
“Just a sketchy as hell janitor. I’m sure it was nothing.” I shrugged my shoulders and kept moving.
“You are a bodyguard, aren’t you?” The wrestler looked up at me, her smile still there, even widening a little.
“They wouldn’t put you in my care if they didn’t trust me.”
I actively tried not to stare at Jasmine. She was gorgeous; long blonde hair in a ponytail, naturally beautiful face with her ring makeup already cleaned away.
The little spitfire wore a t-shirt she could fight in, but with sinfully tight jeans. A leather jacket finished off her outfit. And those black leather boots made her legs go for days, going to her knees. Her out of ring attire still matched her character. I had to wonder just how much of her character was self-insert.
I was on red alert as soon as we entered the dimly lit parking deck. My hand stayed on the middle of Jasmine’s back, and I matched her pace. I watched every car and every shadow until we got to my vehicle.
My eyes scanned the back seat of my car to make sure it was empty. After loading her stuff in the trunk, I opened her door. She sat down before I got in the driver’s seat.
“Is everything okay, Wayne?” Jasmine asked as we buckled in. My serious, mechanical way of doing things clearly made her a little nervous.
“Yeah. I’m just making sure you’re safe.”
“Aww, you’re sweet.” She flashed me a most endearing smile.
“Jazz, it’s literally my job.” I shook my head while trying to keep back an amused smile.
“Yeah, but you’re being sweet about it.” Her smile got even brighter.
“Okay, Jazz. If you say so. What hotel am I bringing you to, anyway?” I asked to change the subject. It really was just my job, and I found it especially difficult to accept compliments from an angel like her. It didn’t matter her eggs were a little scrambled at that moment. Positive attention from Jasmine Crane was still enough to make this a deeply memorable night.
“The Hamilton on 5th.” After the simple response, Jasmine laid her head back and rested her sharp blue eyes.
“Nah uh. Stay with me, Jazz.” I snapped my fingers. “If you can’t stay awake, I will take you to the ER instead.”
“I’m fine, Wayne. Please just get me to bed, okay?” It was an earnest plea. I headed in the direction of her hotel, preferring not to fight.
This was not how I wanted to take Jasmine Crane to bed.
Jasmine hummed along with whatever the radio was quietly playing. It wasn’t a long drive, but it felt like hours. Every minute dragged on because I was so focused on getting her safely from point A to B, but I was also human.
Jasmine Crane was riding shotgun in my car. I wanted to feel bad because she had a minor concussion, or at least a rung bell, but she was still sexy as hell.
I was first out of the car upon reaching the hotel. Jasmine stayed put while I checked the surrounding area, grabbed her stuff, and then opened her door.
Jasmine stepped out, obviously tired. She offered to take her own bags, but I steadfastly refused.
We walked into the swanky lobby together and Jazz led the way to the elevator. She was on the third floor, so it was a short ride. I was not prepared to be in such a closed space with Jasmine, however.
She leaned against the wall right next to me. I couldn’t help but drink in the entire plain of her body from boots to eyes.
When I got to her eyes, I found them looking back at me, a smile on her face. “Hey there,” she said playfully. “What are you looking at?”
“I’m sorry, Ms. Crane. It was unprofessional of me.” It was a sincere apology.
She made a show of dragging her eyes up and down my frame, the same way I had done to her. “Are we even now?” She raised an eyebrow at me in challenge.
“Guess so.” I chuckled, and then the elevator dinged. I stepped out first, and Jasmine followed once I made sure the hallway was clear.
She led me to her room and opened the door.
Peeking behind us, I saw the hallway was still empty, and I ushered her in. I didn’t let her get too far ahead of me until I was satisfied the room was clear.
“Well, Ms. Crane, it was a pleasure meeting you. I believe our time has come to an end, unfortunately.” I was about to ask her to sign my hat, but then she surprised me.
Jasmine pouted and grabbed my hand. She didn’t say anything but looked at me with pleading eyes.
I dropped my tone to honest care. “Jazz? What is it?”
“Wayne, I’m scared.” Her chin trembled, and I felt for her. Things were crazy. Sonya Crush had been stalked and her home broken into. TWF was implementing a story about a mysterious faction of goons running amok and breaking into the show for three weeks.
“Jazz, I don’t….”
“I hate to even ask, but can you please stay?” Her voice and eyes begged me together, and she looked completely terrified. There was no acting on her face at all. Her worry was entirely genuine.
“Jazz, I didn’t come prepared to stay the night. There’s only one bed.” As much as I wanted to help, the layout of the room was not ideal for this.
“I don’t care. Please do not leave me alone right now. I’m not armed, and I don’t know how much of a fight I can put up at this moment. If it weren’t scripted, Robyn, fucking Robyn,” she spat, “would have beat my little ass.”
“I can sleep in the chair.” I pointed to the nice recliner in the corner, giving in. This was going beyond my job and was in the territory of just being a good person.
“You know you’re a hell of a gentleman, right?” She paid me with a soft smile, and I felt like she could read my thoughts.
“I’ve been told just a few times.” I chuckled and took my jacket off. Setting my hat on the side table, I took out my revolver and laid it on the table.
“You carry?” Jasmine asked.
“Yeah. It’s a Michigan CPL, so I can carry concealed in 39 states. It doesn’t bother you, does it?”
“No. It makes me feel safer.” Jasmine rummaged through her bag, coming back up with some clothes. “Will you still be here after I get back from a shower?”
“Of course.” I found the TV remote and turned it on. “Take your time.”
“Thank you.” She smiled exaggeratedly before escaping to the bathroom.
I watched some lame-ass hunting Bigfoot show until my host for the night came back. And when she did, she certainly looked… comfortable.
I damn near dropped the remote when little Ms. Crane walked back into the room. She was wearing panties and a t-shirt. Only panties and a t-shirt. I felt like an asshole because of how long it took me to look away.
“This is what I normally sleep in,” she explained sheepishly. Jasmine shouldn’t have felt like the guilty one. “I just want to be comfy.” The soft and innocent tone she used broke my heart.
“You do whatever makes you feel at home, Jazz. You can do whatever you want,” I told her. Her face brightened and her posture relaxed as she climbed into bed.
“Wayne?”
“Hmm?” I looked over to the girl buried under the covers.
“You don’t have to try to sleep in that chair. The bed is super roomy.” It was a clear offer to join her.
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Jazz.” I was kicking myself for being honest, but it was the right thing to do, after all.
“You sleep in the nude, don’t you?” What a fucking tease.
I laughed. “No ma’am. I do sleep in my underwear, though.” Jasmine did, too. Her current state made that inexplicably clear. So, I didn’t see the harm in being honest.
“I’m already in my underwear right now, so it’s no problem.” Shared brain cell, right there. “Please, Wayne. Can you please just lay with me?” Jasmine reached an arm out from under the blanket and patted the bed. “Some close, innocent contact would help me sleep a lot better.”
Goddamn her.
She smiled when I left the chair and matched her level of undress. I climbed under the covers that Jasmine lifted for me.
This also allowed me another glimpse of her glorious body; those silky smooth and deliciously meaty legs. I loved a girl that was in shape and had some healthy size to her.
Jasmine snuggled into my side. So much for her comment about the bed being plenty roomy. We both settled in and watched hillbillies and “scientists” try to find the hairy beast.
Before long, I knew that Ms. Crane was fast asleep. I, however, couldn’t allow myself to do the same.
I figured this was my only chance to share a bed with this goddess. This was my one time to lay with our bare legs touching and her head on my shoulder.
I also couldn’t sleep because that’s not what I had been paid to do. My job was to protect her, and I’d be damned if anyone got the drop on me. On us. I was off the clock, but my responsibilities hadn’t changed.
I often looked over to my trusty Ruger .38 on the table. The hope was to never need it but have it in case of an emergency.
I listened closer to every sound outside. Taking note of every shadow that passed beyond our door was part of the experience. I was always on red alert except when I allowed myself to focus on Ms. Crane pressed against me.
Dozing in and out had just become a problem when the sun started coming up. But then Jasmine’s alarm went off.
She came to, scratched her head, and yawned like a cat. The wrestler didn’t move or say anything for a while. I figured she was trying to get her bearings and remember the night before.
Then she rubbed my stomach. “You stayed the whole night, Wayne.” She said it as if she was waiting for a correction.
“You asked me to.” I threaded a hand through her silky blonde hair as she continued to play with my belly. We risked crossing a line, but she didn’t seem to mind.
“I thought you’d split after I fell asleep.” She sounded genuinely surprised that I didn’t. “I’m glad you stayed,” she whispered. The stunning Ms. Crane turned over to look up at me with her electric blue eyes.
Her eyes, so intensely trained on me, turned my blood cold and my skin to goose flesh. I took the prolonged eye contact as her way of telling me to make my move. So, I did. This morning was full of making bets.
I bent down and she arched her neck to meet me. We kissed slowly, lazily, and with gentle exploration as our shared purpose.
She clasped her hands behind my head, and I buried both of mine into her silky hair. Our tongues slid together rather than battled. We took turns sucking each other’s bottom lips. Teeth clicked and we moaned together as sunlight tried to pierce through the hotel room curtains.
Jasmine took one of her hands back and began palming my crotch. She made it strikingly clear how far she wanted to go.
I was already good and hard from our spit swapping, but she wanted to make sure I was as ready as possible.
“Oh my God, Wayne. This length. The curve. It’s perfect” She breathed into my mouth and grazed her fingers up and down my erection. “I can’t wait to have it in my mouth.”
With that, she pulled down the front of my boxers. Using her second hand, she touched my hot skin. She gently wrapped her slender fingers around my erection and slowly slid her hand down to the base.
Jasmine looked up at me, locking those icy blue eyes on me. I lifted my hips and pulled my underwear off.
“You see this cock? This is my cock now.” She said it in such a possessive growl.
My new lover spat in her hand and wrapped it around my cock again. She was undoubtedly connected with her take-charge wrestling persona.
I arched my back a little at the new sensation. Her hand slid so much easier. “I love your little hand on me.” I nestled into the pillows and let her work.
“What about two hands?” She licked the palm of her free hand and cradled my balls. I hummed as she played with me and started sucking on my neck. She molded herself into the side of my body.
Her famous, perfect ass fit exactly right in my hand while she jerked me. I smacked her rump and watched it satisfyingly jiggle.
She smiled up at me and kissed my neck again before saying, “I’m about to go down on you. Would you like that?”
I growled back at her from deep in my chest. “That sounds perfect. I’ve been thinking about that since the elevator last night.”
“I had a gut feeling.” She giggled. “Don’t think I didn’t see that semi in your pants last night.” And with that, she began slowly kissing and licking her way down my body.
Jasmine was great at setting every nerve ending on fire, torturing me until I was putty in her hands.
I had never felt electricity through my veins like I did under her lips. By the time she got to the skin at the base of my cock, my legs were straight as a board. My hands gripped the pillow under my head. The anticipation was killing me.
“Just relax, Wayne. You protect me, and I’ll take care of you.” Jasmine smiled salaciously, gently raking her nails from my chest back down to the twitching hard-on. “And I really want to take care of you.” Her whispers before kissing the head of my dick made my toes curl.
Jasmine’s lips were so soft as they caressed my hard member. She took her time, kissing her way up and down my entire length.
Her tongue poked out and traced the central vein on the underside of my prick. Those striking eyes watched me the whole time. She was daring me to look away as she took her time to pleasure me.
“Do you want me to get on with it? Or do you want to see little Ms. Crane gag on your big cock?” As she waited for my answer, Jazz kept licking me up and down my shaft.
I nodded and put my hands on each side of her head. “I do want to see you choke on it. But I want to see Jasmine Crane enjoy herself on me, too. Nothing would make me happier than watching you wrap your cute little tongue around my dick.”
Jasmine smiled and continued to lick and kiss every inch of me. This included the occasional trip down to my nuts. She was also elated to lick and suckle those with great care.
“Holy shit, Jazz. That feels so good.” The words came out as a deep and thunderous rumble. I jolted a little as she licked my sack right between my balls. The intense sensation was enough to push my head off the pillow.
My dirty Jazz looked up at me with a wicked grin. She slowly sucked a whole testicle into her mouth and rolled it with her tongue. Then she did the same with the other. After that, she made it clear it was game time.
With my cock still in her mouth, she got on her knees and angled herself to take me in deeper. My hands were on her head. That hot, wet sucking, and her recently started bobbing was begging for my hips to move.
Jasmine wanted me to fuck her face.
I could feel Jasmine’s hot breath exiting her nose. Her cheeks billowed as she breathed in around me. My balls were getting soaked with spit as she kept working, not caring about being sloppy or making a mess. I couldn’t help but to buck as she obscenely slurped and gagged on me.
Jasmine grabbed my thighs with both hands. She started to come up all the way before quickly sliding back down. This impaled her throat on me as if she was properly riding my cock. She was deepthroating me cowgirl style.
I pulled her off after a few glucks and threw her on the bed.
Jasmine coughed and spluttered. Spit and precum was smeared all over her mouth and chin. I couldn’t help myself. I was crazed for her. There was a need deep inside to own this little minx who thought she could order me around.
Before Jasmine could recover, I ripped her t-shirt wide open. I freed her perfect, fake tits. I groped them in my hands as I positioned myself to tea bag the little slut.
She didn’t see it coming, but she got on board instantly. Jasmine enthusiastically sucked my nuts, her mouth full and her cheeks stuffed like a squirrel. She shook her head back and forth as she came close to taking my jewels down her dirty little throat.
I had to get out of her before the sensitivity was too much. Letting go of her tits, I climbed over her, taking my balls away from her mouth. I put myself in a push-up position on the bed over her.
She grabbed my cock and milked it with her hands as she leaned up and engulfed my length. The bitch was insatiable and was not going to let me get away easily. So be it.
I dropped my hips down and I felt her gag reflex choke around me. It damn near pushed me out of her. Jasmine grabbed my ass with both hands as I started a pace of throat fucking her. She didn’t want to let me go. Didn’t want me to stop.
She moaned and squealed as I filled her completely. At this point, I was downright fucking her mouth like I was hate fucking a pussy. But she asked for it. And she loved it.
Jasmine’s hot wetness, that fluttering throat, her nails digging into my ass cheeks for dear life was too much. After a few brief moments of owning her like my own personal cock slave, I had to pull out.
Her face was absolutely soaked in precum and slippery, thick spit. Those cold blue eyes I loved so much were screwed shut and her cheeks were tear stained.
She was cherry-red from the abuse she had sustained at our hands. Her immaculate breasts were heaving, and her stomach muscles were tight from effort.
Jasmine seemed barely conscious, but she still had the wherewithal to take my cock in her lifeless hand. She tried to jerk me, but she didn’t have it in her.
I took her little hand in mine, and I stroked myself with it until I came all over her gorgeous face and perfect tits. Once I had completely drained my entire load, every spurt and string, I collapsed on the bed next to her.
Eventually, she rolled over and looked me in the eye. Jasmine took my softened cock in her hand again. “Wayne, consider that your signing bonus.”
“What?” I asked with a tired chuckle.
“I want you, Wayne. You should be my personal security guard. I am going to hire you. You are going to keep me safe, and we will produce a safe word together. What do you say?”
It was a serious quandary, and she already had my cock stiffening again under her fingertips.
I breathed deeply and said, under orgasm brain or not, “Okay.”
Jasmine smiled, and without letting me out of her hand, she rolled on top of me.