Wrestling Drip Novels & Stories

They headed toward the exit before wandering off to the streets. A few minutes later, Darius and Lynette arrived. Aiden didn't seem to behave as if they had met before, he just ignored her even when she tried to start a conversation. She felt guilty that she was making him punish himself, but it was up to him to choose what he would become. As Darius led her to the basement where she would start her training, he promised her that Aiden would be fine and he won't let any harm come to him. After they arrived at the wrestling room, Darius pulled off his shirt, hanging it on the racks that were attached to the wall. A thick black rug was spread on the floor. Lynette was putting on a sweatsuit. H

Saliva drooled from the corners of the freshman’s stretched lips, dripping messily down his chin and onto his own throbbing cock. The locker room echoed with obscene sounds—wet slurps, muffled gags, and Jax’s low grunts of satisfaction. Alex’s hands came up to brace against those powerful thighs, feeling the muscles flex and bunch under his palms. He tried to relax his throat, breathing through his nose as Jax pushed deeper. Tears streamed down his face, mixing with the drool. His own erection ached untouched, leaking steadily onto the floor between his spread knees.

"I can be Stella just for tonight so please don't cry." Risa nodded so I smiled a little, fixing my arms around her body. Noticing the wings were restricting me from embracing her fully, I take it off her and set it aside on the wooden floor. I hugged her again and she didn't say any words as she continued to cry on my shoulder. She may be tipsy or probably drunk because I tasted a little alcohol in our drinks a while ago. How much did she consume anyway for her to be this messy?

A heavy, thick stream of mixed cum and juices immediately gushes out of my stretched pussy, running down my inner thighs in warm, sticky rivers. I roll over onto my back, my legs still trembling and spread wide, exposing my dripping, cum-filled center to the cameras. Leo stands over me, his chest covered in sweat and oil, his softening cock still dripping a final few white drops onto my stomach. I look directly into the lens, my face flushed, a messy, satisfied smile stretching across my swollen lips. “Cut! Print it! That’s a wrap on Episode 4!” the director screams, jumping out of his chair. “Phenomenal job, everyone. That is going to break the internet for the holidays.”

Maybe this was the right time to loosen up a bit. My phone beeped on the small table in my room. I picked it and saw that it was a message from WWE saying they were having a training combat this evening. The training was meant to get us prepared for an entertainment match in New York next week. I changed into a pair of yellow sweatshirt that had a slit cut in the middle then pulled up in a baggy pajamas before combing my wig and padding out of the room.

I pointed out all the rational sequence of events. “That’s it !” Dre shrieked. “I am peeing on you, bitch,” he cried out and soon after an enormous bum was wiggling in my lap and a feeling of warm wetness spread soon after. Did he- did he really do that ? And then the stench of the guttural fluid hit me. He. Fucking. Did. It. On. Me. What a fucking motherfucker ! “DRE !” everyone screamed horrified but the bastard showed a toothy grin and had the audacity to innocently say, “T’was not me. It was this bitch,” and then he heaved a sigh of relief before slumping against me.

Drip… Drip… Drip… Emily was roused from her slumber by the incessant dripping of cold water upon her face. As she opened her eyes, she let out a whimper, writhing in agony from the ache in her wrists, which were firmly restrained above her head. Cold metal shackles encircled her wrists, and as she knelt upon the rough, rocky surface, she could feel the full weight of her body pressing down upon her.

My boobs slapped up against my chin, and another thick gush of fluid squirted around his cock and dripped heavily off his balls. He turned it into a merciless circuit. Ten slow, grinding pulls where he kept me pinned deep, rolling and thrusting so I felt him everywhere. Then ten explosive releases that ripped me almost off his cock before slamming me back down. Every single rep forced more and more wet drops out of me. Some of it squirted in messy arcs that hit the mirror and slid down in slow, shiny rivulets. The rest ran in steady streams down the leather seat, pooling warm and slick beneath my red ass.

I roll my eyes, “You on crack? Clay hasn’t won a fight against Wolfe since, fucking never. Easy money.” I pull my wallet out of my tactical pants and pony up sixty bucks to add to the pile on the hood. The scene before us plays out much in the way I guessed. When Clay makes Wolfe drop the soda and it splatters on the pavement at his booted feet, it’s game on. My burly cousin drops the rest of his stash on the ground to free up his arms and charges at Clay. Clay laughs like a maniac during their deranged version of London Bridge Is Falling Down as they wrestle one another. A few bystanders have stopped to watch the wrestling match. I hope they don’t do anything stupid to draw more attention t

His cum spilled out around his softening length, running down my thighs in warm, messy trails. Still sitting on Blake’s cock, with my chest heaving, and my pussy throbbing and leaking on his load, I looked straight at Professor Harlan. My lips were parted, my breathing ragged, my body still trembling from the intense orgasm…showing him without saying a single word just how much I had been dripping for him all this time.