Claiming His Virgin In the Ring: The Filthy Wrestling Club

by Cassandra Dee

  “Easy, pretty baby,” he growled with an amused tone to his voice. “Easy.”

  I was so stunned that I couldn’t move at first. My breasts were smashed against his chest, my crotch pressed against his thigh.

  And as if to tease me, he moved his leg, rubbing intimately against that sweet spot where no one could see.

  “You alright?” he growled, voice low as it wafted over my hair. “These things can be pretty sudden if you don’t know how to use them.”

  Oh god, that leg moved again subtly, and I parted my thighs slightly, letting it rub against my clit.

  “Ohhh,” came my breathless moan. “Oh.”

  I could almost feel his smile as those strong arms pulled me closer.

  “Oh is right,” he murmured. “You need some help, don’t you sweetheart?”

  I moaned again, smashing my breasts even more against his chest as my pussy watered.

  “Um yes,” I murmured. “I need some help.”

  Suddenly, I came to my senses. What the hell was I thinking? Was I really going for a joyride on this guy’s thigh, humping it like a dog in heat? Was I really that slutty?

  So face flushed, I pulled back suddenly, stammering and red.

  “Oh hi from yesterday,” I muttered, barely able to look him in the eye. “I’m a klutz. It’s inherited, my mom was a klutz too.”

  Those blue eyes gleamed as his muscles bulged.

  “No sweat,” he said. “I’ve got big hands because my mom has big hands as well. See?” he said, holding up one massive paw.

  I looked up and sure enough, his palm was as big as a plate. But unbidden, the saying suddenly ran through my head. Men who have big hands also have big …

  My face grew red and Shaft smiled as if he could read my mind.

  “So what are you doing today?” he asked, nodding at the treadmill. “Putting in miles? What else?”

  What else? Well, I didn’t really have anything else, to be honest. So I flushed again, hanging my head a bit.

  “Well, I was thinking I’d do some running, and then maybe hit the elliptical,” I murmured. “Lots of cardio is good.”

  Shaft’s blue eyes gleamed.

  “Cardio is good,” he agreed. “But you have to get a balanced work-out in. If you only do cardio, that’s bad. It’s important to include some strength exercises to build up your core,” he said.

  “My core?” I parroted, confused. “You mean like my abs?”

  The alpha threw his head back and laughed, revealing perfect white teeth.

  “Your core as in your torso,” he said with an amused smile. “Everyone these days is so focused on abs that they forget there’s a lot more than the six pack. What I mean is you’ve got to work to build strength in your torso so that it can support you during all other exercises. Otherwise, you’re bound to hurt yourself.”

  “Oh,” I said dumbfounded. “I get it.”

  Shaft shot me an easy smile.

  “Why don’t I show you some easy exercises?” he suggested. “We’ll go slow. I promise.”

  And with that, I found myself in the weight room with the handsome man. There were a few people milling about, staring in the mirror with fixed expressions as they lifted barbells. But otherwise, it felt like we were alone.

  “So do you come to the gym every day?” I asked shyly as my new personal trainer placed two-pound weights in my fists. “Is this a regular thing?”

  He nodded.

  “Sure thing. Only way to stay fit,” he grinned, stepping back and straightening my arms as I held them out from my body.

  His smile was contagious and I smiled back, tentatively lifting my arms to shoulder height.

  “That’s right,” said Shaft. “Keep going,” he said. Slowly, I lowered my arms, Shaft holding my wrists lightly as they descended.

  “Slow,” he commanded. “We want it to go real slow on the way down. Believe it or not, the release should be harder than the lift.”

  The big man was standing so close to me now that I could hardly breathe.

  “Really?” I whispered. “What do you mean?”

  He grinned again, totally aware of his effect on me.

  “It means that you can lift your arms into the air pretty fast, but when you let go, it’s the controlled release that’s really going to make your muscles work,” he said smoothly. “See? Like this,” he said, slowly guiding my wrists back in place to rest at my side.

  I was sizzling now in my secret spot, finding it difficult to concentrate with the man so close. But I took a deep breath and forced myself to focus, staring at our images in the mirror. God, he was so perfect turned around with those sculpted buttocks and strong, curved back. I wanted to press my mouth to the small of his waist, tasting the smooth, salty flesh there.

  “I like your outfit today,” he mentioned quietly, eyes dancing. “Real pretty.”

  My cheeks grew red again, face flushing. Because I’d worn another tight gym outfit. Today, there were bike shorts that squeezed my jiggly parts in, and a sports bra that held my breasts together, pushing them and lifting them to their best advantage.

  “Oh thanks,” I said breathlessly. “I don’t want to wear loose sweats because they get in the way while I run. You know, chafing and all that.”

  His eyebrows raised in an amused manner.

  “Chafing, huh?” he asked in a smooth growl. “Can’t say I know about that.”

  Because Shaft was dressed once more in a tight wrestler’s outfit with dark blue spandex shorts and a loose t-shirt. I took the opportunity as an opening.

  “So does Petey’s Place focus on training wrestlers?” I asked curiously. “I think Petey mentioned something about that yesterday.”

  Shaft nodded.

  “Sure, all of us like to wrestle,” he said casually.

  “All of you?” I asked, puzzled.

  “Mmm-hmm,” he confirmed. “All of us. Sometimes we wrestle for kicks, but sometimes we compete too.”

  “Like a wrestling team?” I asked, carefully lifting the weights again as he steadied my core.

  “Sort of like a team,” he confirmed, not meeting my eyes in the mirror. “It’s a club of sorts. A private wrestling club, to be more precise.”

  “Oh cool,” I nodded. “Totally get it. My brother used to be in a private hockey league. They only played teams that met certain qualifications and standards. It was cool.”

  Shaft still wouldn’t meet my eyes, even though his big form was only inches away from me.

  “Yeah, something like that,” he said casually, carefully guiding my arms into the air. “Our opponents have to meet certain qualifications and standards as well. We make sure of it. They’re selected very carefully.”

  I nodded with what I hoped was a sophisticated air.

  “Of course. You guys must be really good. The guys I saw out there were really ripped.”

  Shaft threw his head back at that and laughed heartily.

  “Wrestling is about more than being fit,” he said, “although being in shape is part of it. There’s a lot of strategy and skill, as well as certain holds, moves, and submission locks.”

  Submission locks? What was that? My eyes darted to his, but he still wouldn’t meet my eyes, instead focusing on helping me perfect my form. Wow, this guy was the best personal trainer ever, and he was doing it for free. Did he have some ulterior motive?

  As if reading my mind, Shaft’s eyes flickered to mine then, the blue seizing making my heart jump.

  “Sure thing, sweetheart,” he asked. “I’ll want something from you after this is all over. But for now, just relax.”

  I nodded silently, flustered. What could he possibly want? Or better yet, what did I have to offer? I was a sweaty, chubby virgin, and he was clearly a man of the world. There was nothing I could possibly give.

  But suddenly, time came to a standstill. Could he sense my virginity? Was that what he wanted? I was sweating slightly through my clothes, my curves swaying as I lifted the weights over my head
, and then back down. But no, it was impossible. There was no way a guy could sense your virginity just by being around you. That was a scientific fact.

  But somehow, I knew that Shaft was different. This man had the senses of an animal, and he could detect things about women without actually seeing, feeling or touching. He had an aura about him that drew females to him like moths to a flame, giving up their secrets. And frankly, I wanted to be that woman. I wanted to give him my all, and shiver as he stroked my sweetest spaces … but how, given that we were work out buddies and nothing more?

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Shaft

  What Lily doesn’t know won’t kill her. At least I hope she won’t pass out from the shock because I’ve got plans for the beautiful brunette. She’s curvy and shy but with exactly the type of body and demeanor that make her a perfect opponent, in the ring and out of it.

  But it would be premature to introduce her to Battle Bang right away without knowing more. Because what was I going to say? We run an underground club where men wrestle women, ending with sex? It’s dirty and illicit, but I’m sure you’ll love it? Besides, what the hell kind of club is that?

  But in fact, it’s the best kind. The women are specially vetted and trained. They know what they’re going into the ring for. They’re put on birth control, their curves wet and ready to be penetrated.

  And I fucking love it. I love wrestling with a struggling woman, pinning her to the mat. I love watching her face as she tries to push you to the ground, placing her arm around your torso. Because it’s futile but fun. Inevitably, the women are about a hundred pounds less than me, and there’s no way they can win the match. Instead, every contest ends the same way. My cock in their pussy, spraying sperm as we both come, the spectators watching hungrily.

  Because Battle Bang isn’t a private thing. It’s a club, after all. We have some exclusive rooms, but the biggest matches take place in front of an audience, the crowd hooting and hollering as a sweet girl is taken. It’s just the way these things work.

  But at least the females get paid big time. After a match, they get a six figure payout, along with bonuses for performance. So the longer she’s able to stay unpenetrated, the bigger her bonus. We had one female walk out of here with a seven figure check once, she was that good.

  And somehow, I knew that Lily would be perfect for Battle Bang. She had all the curves, the right kind of hefty flesh for throwing around the ring, as well as the personality. Because the shy ones are best. The ones who look innocent and nubile are deceptive. They look like they’ve never fought a day in their lives and wouldn’t know what to do during Battle Bang. But once you get them in the ring? They’re dirty as hell, their pussies evading penetration until the very last moment.

  And shit, but I wanted to own Lily’s sweet folds. I wanted to lick them and kiss them before tearing that pussy apart. I wanted Lily to scream and moan my name as onlookers watched before submitting to my monster cock.

  Because hell yeah, I was going to knot within that tiny cunt. I was going to grow so big and hard that she’d never be able to get off me. We’d be locked together in a clinch so tight, my dick so far up her pussy, that she’d never be able to pry herself off my form.

  That’s the beauty of my cock. Call it a blessing or a curse, but the knotting mechanism is a genetic anomaly that sets me apart from other men. My glans enlarges so much that it literally gets stuck in a woman even after I’m done ejaculating. Her sweet pussy is jammed on me, unable to separate.

  And it’s good and bad, depending on whom you’re with. If you’re banging the wrong chick, it’s an absolute curse. Then you’ve gotta get that female off of you asap, and sometimes the knot doesn’t go down fast enough. But when you have a goddess on your hands, then the knot is sheer pleasure. You’re stuck together, her pussy locked on your cock until the bulb goes down and she can pull away.

  But back to Lily. How was I going to do this? How was I going to induct the brunette into Battle Bang without scaring off the poor female? The usual girls we have lined up for this shit are slutty and voracious, nothing like the innocent female before me.

  And right now, the brunette had no idea what I was thinking. We were lifting weights in the anterior room, a couple guys milling about as I helped my girl achieve perfect form. I knew what these jerks were thinking. They were waiting for me to slip so that they could step in on the beautiful brunette.

  Try it, motherfuckers. I stared at them with a threatening manner, literally baring my teeth when Lily couldn’t see.

  And they got my message. The men acknowledged the alpha male in their presence and backed down. That’s right assholes. This girl is mine, and nothing’s gonna take her from me. First dibs now … and maybe forever.

  Because shit, Lily was sweet. She was asking me all these questions about myself, instead of the usual self-centered shit that a lot of females go through.

  “Where do you work?” she asked with a sweet smile, gazing up at me as I loomed over her, steadying her wrists. “Or are you at the gym all the time?”

  I grinned.

  “This place is my second home, but no, I have a job,” was my smooth reply. “I’m a trader at a bank.”

  She laughed merrily.

  “You work at a bank? I can’t see it,” she said mirthfully, a tinge of pink staining her cheeks. “Mr. Shaft, in a suit?”

  I grinned myself.

  “First, I don’t go by Shaft at the bank obviously. My real name is Mike Miller,” was my wry reply. “They just call me Shaft around here as a nickname.”

  “But there has to be a reason for the name right?” she asked coyly. “So tell me. Why do they call you Shaft? What did you do to deserve such a moniker?”

  I didn’t answer for a moment because the truth was fucking rancid. I’m called Shaft due to the huge size of my cock, and the incredible pummeling I give the girls during Battle Bang. When we fight in the ring, the females always succumb, locked on my dick as they shriek with pleasure.

  But that was too much, too soon. So instead, I feinted.

  “It’s just some dumb thing,” I lied. “You know, guys being guys.”

  She smiled again.

  “But there has to be a reason,” Lily pressed. “Like I used to be called Marshmallow because of my shape,” she said, a little shy all of a sudden. “In fact, there are still some folks who call me Marshy.”

  That made my temperature rise.

  “They shouldn’t,” I said roughly. “You’re perfect just the way you are. Besides, marshmallows are one of my favorite foods. Fluffer Nutter sandwiches, ever heard of them? I ate dozens back in the day.”

  That made Lily throw her head back and laugh.

  “Oh Mike,” she giggled. “Marshmallow sandwiches? How unhealthy.”

  I nodded.

  “Well when you’re a growing boy you can throw down tons of food without worrying about calories,” I rumbled. “But seriously. As I said before, Michael is my given name and I work at a bank. The desk job is for real, complete with suit, tie, and wingtips.”

  “And a handkerchief in your breast pocket?” Lily said mischievously. “Like those guys in the Men’s Wearhouse commercials?”

  “Exactly like those guys on TV,” I said, grinning despite myself. “But even better because they’re just actors wearing costumes. I’m the real thing.”

  And the truth is, I am the real thing. I’m not the teller at a bank. I’m not the manager. I’m not the person who hangs your coats. Instead, I’m the fucking owner of a bank. Yeah, think Citi or Bank of America, whatever floats your boat. I own a business just like that, millions pouring in every second of every day.

  But that was too much information for the sweet female. Lily was young, and deserved to go slow. Or at least as slow as I could manage given how fucking aroused I was.

  Because she was so beautiful here in those tight shorts and stretchy sports bra. I wanted to plant my face between her curves and motorboat in that shadowy valley to my heart’s conte
nt, enjoying all sorts of creamy treats.

  And to Lily’s horror, suddenly the sports bra snapped. Yeah, my girl’s got huge boobies, and all the stretching and flexing put the material to the test. So one second she was lifting weights, and the next, there was a rrrripp! sound as the pink fabric tore.

  Immediately, the girl leapt into motion, her hands trying to cover herself.

  “Oh!” she gasped, eyes wide as smooth flesh bounced and swayed, her tiny palms doing nothing. They barely covered the areola, her mounds were so luscious. “Oh!” she gasped again.

  A couple guys stepped forward, bulges already visible in their shorts but I warned them off with a harsh look. This is my girl, motherfuckers, and ain’t none of you gonna step in. So in one movement, I swept Lily into my arms and stalked off towards the women’s locker room. A couple dudes started to follow me, but again, the laser beams from my eyes froze them in place. Ain’t no one gonna touch my woman.

  Because Lily belonged to me. I could smell it in her scent, and the way her curves bobbled against me as I strode down the hall had me on edge. Fuck. I was ready to do her now.

  Kicking the door closed behind us, I locked it.

  “Shaft,” she gasped as I gently placed her on the floor. “Oh my god this is so embarrassing,” she cried out, still trying to cover her breasts with those small hands. Lucky for me, Lily was wholly unsuccessful. The creamy curves slipped and jiggled, giving me an eyeful of luscious flesh.

  I stepped back for a moment, an amused grin on my face.

  “What’s wrong sweetheart? I’ve seen boobies before.”

  Her face, which was already bright red, went even more scarlet if possible.

  “No, I mean, yes,” she gasped again, eyes wild and curls bouncing. “It’s that I need to get this under control and my stuff’s in my locker.”

  I grinned.

  “Tell me your combination and I’ll get your stuff for you,” I drawled. “No problemo.”

  She nodded hastily.

  “It’s that one over there,” she said, indicating the direction with her chin. “Second one from the left, over in the row by the door.”