And that pisses me off.
When last I left you bitches, Lightning Rod and I were in the ring with Stinger, whose partner chose wisely not to show up. (If Stinger had half a brain, he would have taken that chance to bail as well, but he didn't have half a brain, and even more stupidly thought he could take us both on at the same time.) Ordinarily, I am opposed to such obvious mismatches--hell, me taking on Stinger by myself was a mismatch, since I had about forty pounds of muscle on him--but hey, he insisted, and who am I to deny a hot little muscle boy a beating when he's asking for one?
Insisting on one, in fact.
And my adrenaline was up, so was my dick, and there's this hot little boy mouthing off on the other side of the ring....so why not let him be annihilated?
Then again, if I let everyone back out of their matches with me when they actually are face to face with me and about to have their bodies cash the check their mouths have written....I'd never get to wrestle.
And what ensued was definitely carnage. Lightning Rod and I are both sadistic pricks (we also have big dicks), and so poor little Stinger never had a chance. And as the match wore on, and we basically tortured his lithe little muscleboy body, we got more and more aroused.
Which wasn't a good thing for li'l Stinger. We took his mask and we took his dignity, and we eventually took his trunks.
It was an enormously satisfying match...and I said before, Lightning Rod pushes every erotic button in my body.
I have so many fantasies about him--tagging with him again, taking him on myself...
Can you imagine me and Lightning Rod facing each other in the ring?
Hours of wrestling torture and erotic pleasure would surely ensue.