The Cruiserweight

by L. Anne Carrington

  Rachel didn’t give up. She found another way to have him. She stripped, leaving on her bra and panties, and yanked down the jeans of a speechless and aroused Brett. He watched in amazement while she almost swallowed his entire manhood. Damn, the chick has remarkable talent for giving head!

  Electricity shot through his body, and he enjoyed every minute of Rachel going down on him. He was one of few men who preferred making love to a woman over mindless sex. On the other hand, the chick on her knees made Brett glad he’d forgotten condoms, unable to remember the last time a he’d received a professional-quality blow job.

  I don’t think the hooker I hired three months ago was this good, and having my dick sucked today isn’t going to cost three hundred bucks.

  He pulled out of Rachel’s mouth and took her over to the bed, drawing her down with him. She picked up where she left off with strident, slurping sounds, taking more of him into her mouth to the point Brett’s erection brushed the back of her throat. Guttural groans emitted from his lips, becoming louder each time her mouth slid up and down his shaft. He could have cared less about what anyone in the room next door heard.

  Placing his hands on both sides of her head, Brett thrust his hips toward her face. Rachel brought him close several times with her expertise, driving him to the edge, until he couldn’t take any more.

  “Oh, God, I’m going to come…”

  Within seconds, Brett reached his climax, sending warm sperm down her throat, amazed at the sight of Rachel swallowing it all without choking.

  Sated when it was over, he showed her the bathroom where she could clean up. Rachel took a quick shower before she dressed, leaving without a backward glance in his direction.

  Brett wasn’t the “get naked, get me off, get dressed, and get out” type under normal circumstances, but when their carnal encounter ended, Rachel had no further interest in him. She turned out to be like all the others, a slut out to fuck wrestlers. He guessed it would only be a matter of time before the woman bragged to her friends about sucking his well-endowed dick.

  He was famished when he finished cleaning up, debating whether to go out and grab something or order room service. He decided dealing with the headache of being recognized by fans wasn’t worth going to the nearest fast food place. He was also worn out from the random blow job, and placed a room service order for a hamburger platter and soda.

  Waiting for dinner, Brett unpacked his bags, finding a gift he received from another woman with whom he chatted the night before. It was a framed article she‘d written about him. He had hit it off with Karen, who seemed like a fun and interesting lady. He also found her an outstanding journalist as he read how Karen outlined his career from the time he’d been a wrestling student.

  His order arrived, and Brett signed for it, adding a generous tip. He then searched online for anything of interest, including how to get in touch with Karen, while he ate. Her writing wasn’t limited to wrestling or even sports in general. He found a few websites where she covered an array of topics, two which caught his eye. The first discussed the topic on legalizing medical marijuana. Another was an overview on the causes of hearing loss and deafness.

  Brett found the information he wanted and decided to send some sort of thank you token. He didn’t get in touch with fans outside of routine situations on a regular basis, but there was something about Karen Montgomery he never saw in anyone. She would be the first woman who neither wanted to get him in the sack nor made him feel like a loser.

  *****

  Greg Sullivan felt ridiculous as he paced through the main news room carrying a large bouquet of flowers, ignoring the snickers from nearby desks. “Anyone seen Karen?”

  Terry looked up from his computer. “She just came back from lunch and working on the show she covered last night. Something about a follow-up story. Did you get sweet on her all of the sudden?”

  “Very funny. No, these came for her about ten minutes ago.”

  “She should still be back there, boss.”

  “Thanks, Jackson.”

  A few moments passed before Karen realized anyone was standing before her. When she looked up from her monitor, Karen gave her editor a warm smile before spotting the bouquet Sullivan placed on her desk.

  “Oh, Mr. Sullivan, you shouldn’t have. What’s the occasion?”

  “They aren’t from me, Karen. They came for you earlier.”

  A puzzled look crossed her face. “Who sent them?”

  “I have no idea. There is a card, though,” Sullivan replied, handing it to her. “Is there any chance you have a secret admirer?”

  Karen gave him an odd look before opening the small envelope and reading the inscription on the card. “What’s this?”

  “Something wrong?”

  “These came from a wrestler I met last night. We talked for several hours and I gave him a copy of the story from last year. They’re very nice flowers, but a thank you card would have sufficed.”

  “Hold it. Are you saying the roses are from…”

  “Brett Kerrigan.”

  “I’m guessing you made quite an impression.”

  “I suppose. He even enclosed his phone number and instant message account information.”

  “Sounds like one Mr. Kerrigan wants to establish something beyond a one-night chat session over drinks. You’re going to go through with contacting the man, aren’t you?”

  “I have nothing to lose. For Brett to send flowers, it’s only considerate of me to get in touch. I’ll make a note to contact him when I get home.”

  *****

  “I don’t get the whole thing, Eddie,” Karen said when they had dinner that evening. “Think about it. Brett Kerrigan is around gorgeous divas at least three hundred days a year. He has girls and young women crushing on and lusting after him, some of them far prettier than I am. But he sent me flowers along with his phone number and instant message information.”

  “Did the thought ever occur there’s something about you which made him feel comfortable?”

  “So do eighty thousand other women around the world.”

  “I’m serious, K. You’re a good-looking lady, intelligent, and your sense of humor is amazing. You just met the man last night and had to have some outstanding quality to have him remember you other than your gift to send flowers. I’m sure he doesn’t do that for everyone. Enjoy the attention.”

  “He and I discussed a few things in passing when we met last night. I know you and I can talk about the situation and it won’t go further.”

  “I’m good at keeping mum.”

  “I know, that’s why I’m telling you about last night.”

  “You wanted some new material to inspire you for a feature story. I think your meeting Brett Kerrigan would be perfect.”

  “I wouldn’t feel comfortable violating his privacy. If anything, I’d reveal only career-related material.”

  “That’s what I always liked about you. You’re a writer with some real, down to earth ethics. Whatever you do, don’t ever lose those qualities. They’re what makes you special. If Brett was here right now, I have plenty of reason to believe he would agree with me.”

  “That’s what I always liked about you. You’re a writer with some real, down to earth ethics. Whatever you do, don’t ever lose those qualities. They’re what makes you special. If Brett was here right now, I have plenty of reason to believe he would agree with me.”

  CHAPTER 5

  Karen logged on her computer and discovered a surprise in her email—a message that stood out among the inbox’s other correspondence.

  “Hey, it’s Brett. Do you want to chat on instant messenger around eight o‘clock your time?”

  “Sure, looking forward to talking again. Thanks for writing me!”

  At eight, she signed in and saw him online, but didn’t contact him right away. Karen presumed he was deluged with messages from friends and fans, and didn’t want to bother him if he was busy.

  He messaged her within minutes. �
�Hi! I‘ve been waiting for you!”

  “Hi, Brett. How was the show?”

  “Great. I won a match against Big Mac. I‘ve been trying to whip his ass forever.”

  “Congratulations. Your feud with him has been going on for awhile.”

  “Yeah, we’re having fun. I know a lot of people think Mac has a big head because of his status, but he’s a cool, funny guy outside of the ring and looks out for the smaller dudes. He also treats the girls like princesses, always sending them flowers and stuff. I dig guys being nice to women, which is one reason Mac and I get along so well.”

  “Speaking of which, thanks for the flowers you sent me, they’re beautiful.”

  “It’s the least I can do for both the great time we had at our meeting and that cool gift you gave me. I even got Patrick sending them to people.”

  “How is he these days?”

  “Much better. Not depressed any more. Just made a commercial.”

  “I don’t think I saw it. To be honest, I don’t pay much attention to those.”

  “Didn’t air yet. The last time I spoke to Patrick, his commercial was still in the editing stages. He has a real nice girl running an official website for him out of New York. You may want to check it out.”

  Patrick was a contrast of his former tag partner. Brett was short, fair-skinned and considered at best by most average in appearance. Patrick stood five feet, ten inches, weighing a little over two hundred pounds. He had genuine tan skin, near-black hair, and stunning hazel eyes. His mix of Mexican and Cherokee heritage had paid off with dazzling good looks. Even when he wasn’t wrestling, Patrick turned heads among female fans. When he lost his job a year earlier with the promotion where Brett worked, Patrick was devastated, disappearing from public view for months. He had resurfaced several weeks earlier, looking into acting opportunities.

  Brett typed in the address of Patrick‘s website, which Karen noted for later reference. “Now you’re not going to dump me for him, are you? Most girls do.”

  “Of course not! I never did thank you for spending so much time with me when we met. I’m amazed to find out how much you and I have in common just from talking now and that night.”

  “You don't fawn all over me with the whole ‘I love you! I‘m your biggest fan!!’ line or talk about having sex with me,” he replied. “I swear, if I hear either one more time, I’ll jump off the nearest bridge.”

  “I don‘t know how you deal with all of that.”

  “All of the fawning and ass kissing bug me more than you know. That’s what I like about you. You’re different, and I think we’re going to be good friends.”

  “Me too. I’m shocked to learn things about you that haven’t appeared online or in magazines.”

  “Don’t believe everything you read. Most are rumors, speculation, or innuendo at least ninety-nine percent of the time. Unless I tell you different, take what’s printed as a bunch of bullshit.”

  “In my business, I’m conditioned to do such unless I get my stories from a reliable source.”

  She asked a question which had weighed in the back of her mind for some time. “May I ask you something, provided you won’t get upset? You don’t have to answer if it makes you uncomfortable.”

  “Sure, go ahead.”

  “There was a story published about you failing a dozen marijuana tests. As a result, your brief push leveled off. The article said you were a frequent smoker who paid the thousand-dollar fine without a second thought and continued your habit.”

  “Yeah, but the fine is eight hundred dollars, not a thousand. The times I know I’m going to fail, I’ll write a check in advance. Nowadays, they’re letting up more on the whole pot issue. It doesn’t seem to be as big of a deal as painkillers, steroids, or far worse things others used.”

  “I’ve heard about the whole drug problem.”

  “Keep in mind some people do pot just for fun. I use weed for medical purposes to treat my anxiety disorder. I’ve done better with that than traditional medications. Smoking a joint makes it easier for me to focus, concentrate and improve my work in the ring. Contrary to some ‘wrestling journalist’s’ belief that I’m high all the time, nothing can be further from the truth.”

  CHAPTER 6

  “Good afternoon, Karen!” Brett typed on his instant messenger two months later.

  “Hi! What a pleasant surprise. Don’t you have any matches or appearances today?”

  “No, I’m free until Friday. Why online so early?“

  “The usual drudge of working on something for Monday’s deadline. You?”

  “Irritated about the latest fan issue I encountered and trying to find a firm but nice way to send messages to annoying people.”

  “Like what?”

  “How about, ‘At least have the decency to leave me alone when you see me out or I'm eating.’ The main things I despise are rude fans and never having privacy for even the simplest shit.”

  “I can’t blame you. People should be able to do everyday things in peace like shopping or going out for a meal.”

  “Yeah, but privacy should be for everyone. By the way, I have another drug test scheduled for Monday. The good news is there’s no check to write.”

  “You haven’t smoked any marijuana?”

  “Not in the last couple of months, since I‘ve tried to quit. My piss should be clean.”

  “What does Patrick think? I know he wasn’t happy about your habit.”

  “Very supportive in helping me stay off weed. When I can’t count on anyone else, he’s always around.”

  “There were quite a few fans let down when he was fired.”

  “Between the two of us, dear, I think his whole attitude led him to being cut. There was also the matter of the creative department not being able to do anything with him after we split up. May I be honest with you, Karen?”

  “Of course.”

  “Did you happen to read any reports that I requested to be drafted last year?”

  “Yes.”

  “They were true. You see, before all the controversy Patrick caused backstage, we were going to get a major push, but he didn’t do well with the pre-taped promos. Most of them never made it to television. His relationship with Elle at the time didn’t improve his image, either.”

  “That’s too bad. He’s a talented person with a lot of drive.”

  “You‘re right, but his attitude problem gave Patrick heat in the locker room, along with a shitty reputation among the creative staff. They thought he was a pain in the ass. Not getting along with authority was the main reason Patrick’s on-air character never went beyond what everyone saw. Meanwhile, I had to choose between my own career and going down with him. I don’t have to tell you my career won.”

  “I think it was obvious when they gave you a heel makeover last summer.”

  “You’re digging the whole Speedo look?”

  “Sure, but knowing how versatile you are, you’re one of those rare talents that can adapt to about anything.”

  “Thank you, doll face. I would love to talk longer about my career, but I have to get going. Let‘s catch up more another time.”

  “It’s always good chatting with you and I’m looking forward to seeing you on TV.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “Let’s hope they’ll put me on the card for a show in the near future. I’m not making any promises, though.”

  *****

  After being off TV for several weeks, but still working house shows, Brett earned a spot in an over-the-ropes elimination match. Participants had a chance to be the number one contender for the World Heavyweight Title, and the bout would be shown on that evening’s pay-per-view.

  “I’m so excited for you!” Karen said when they talked online before the show.

  “Are you going to watch?”

  “I don’t order PPV’s often, but tonight, I’m making an exception.”

  “Might be wasting your time. It isn‘t like I have a chance of winning.”

  “Brett, I k
now the chances of you walking away being number one contender are slim. It’s common knowledge that match outcomes are predetermined, however, I think you and the other cruiserweights don’t get enough TV exposure.”

  “I’ll be honest and say that it’s good to do something besides sit in the bleachers and look like an idiot while everyone else gets the spotlight.”

  “I want to do my next piece with you participating in tonight’s match so people can see Brett Kerrigan, the man who trained under a legend and put doubters in their places.”

  “I appreciate your support very much, toots. There aren’t many writers out there who will bother seeing us in the business as people we are off TV.”

  “That’s why I have great respect for what you do. Wrestling is a dangerous business. I also wanted to wish you good luck.”

  “Thanks, Karen. Hope to talk to you later.”

  *****

  Brett was sitting backstage nude, making an attempt to gather his thoughts and watch the other matches on the night’s pay per view. His tights lay in a heap on the floor and a curvaceous blonde woman was between his thighs performing an incredible blow job.

  Kyra Dimes, known in her ring name as Kiki, had sneaked in and surprised Brett after he had a brief behind the scenes spot with one of the interviewers as a fill-in between matches.

  Startled at first, he figured hanging out with her would be an ideal way to pass the time before the elimination match. They had been ‘friends with benefits’ over the last two years, taking care of each other’s sexual urges when needed. But he’d stared in disbelief when she went down on him right there in the locker room, where anyone could’ve walked in. The action on the monitor—and his initial reservations of her giving head—were soon forgotten when she deep throated him.

  He leaned back against the locker door, groaning with pleasure. “Oh my God, Kyra, that feels so fucking good.”