DISCLAIMER: The following depicts graphic sexual fraternizing between characters under the copyright of World Wrestling Entertainment, Inc. It is a work of pure, unadultered imagination. I have no knowledge of the entertainers' sexual preferences and no insight into their personal lives. If you enjoy these men and my fantasies involving them, or have kind critiques, please contact me.
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Their red-eye flight to Philadelphia was sparsely populated. Most of the overhead lights were off, the attendants had already passed out meals and drinks, and the world floated by underneath the clouds through which they flew. A handful of superstars was on this flight, and many of them were fast asleep, ears plugged and eyes covered. Randy Orton, on the other hand, was wide awake with endless thoughts running through his head.
The League of Nations had seemingly taken his bitch away from him. Rusev had tried to keep Randy at bay, but he instead RKO'd the Bulgarian. From what he could hear, Randy would have been outnumbered 3-to-1 and probably beaten beyond recognition if he had barged into the room. And so he had left his message, and he had left Neville to his newfound pleasures, and he had found himself stewing in a jealous rage over the last two days.
There had to be some way to get back at the League... to possibly reclaim what had been his since Neville rose from NXT to WWE. Even if it was slow going, Randy knew it was a war he could win. All he needed was an army of his own to battle the League. He had a first recruit in mind, but it would be a difficult sell. Randy had to start somewhere, though. He needed an ally that would point him in the right direction.
He stood from his seat, having to crouch a bit so his tall frame didn't bump the ceiling. He straightened his tight t-shirt and rubbed any creases out of his sweatpants. A few rows in front of him on the left sat Roman Reigns, a one-man army of sorts who had effectively dismantled the Authority recently. A lot of people were scared to approach Reigns nowadays, but Orton wasn't a lot of people. He was the Viper.
"Mind if I take this seat?" Orton asked as he gingerly brushed over Roman in the middle seat and plopped into the chair by the closed window.
"Looks like you already have," Reigns said carelessly, returning immediately to a book.
"I don't ask for help often," Orton began.
"Let me just stop you there, old timer," Roman closed his book. "I don't do favors. I have enough problems of my own nowadays. I gotta lot of respect for you, Randy, but no thanks."
"It turns out we have mutual enemies."
"You haven't been screwed half a dozen times by the League and Authority."
"But they're screwing what's mine," Orton said directly, his brow furrowing and the anger becoming evident in his face.
"The gravity kid, right?"
"You know how the game works behind the scenes. Remember when Rollins was yours?"
"I gotta admit, Randy, for the longest time I didn't know you played the game like I did."
"I hide in the grass until I want to strike, and then I keep them quiet. It's not that hard for guys like us, assuming you and I are the same."
At that Randy's hand dove in and grabbed a large handful of Roman's crotch. Through Roman's sweats Randy felt a sizeable flaccid dick and large balls.
"Yup," Randy nodded, smirking. "They'll do anything for us, including keeping their mouths shut."
"So we've got big cocks and little bitches. What's your point?"
"I need a new bitch, Roman. It can be temporary. I need to use him to get back at the League. Neville's mine, and everyone backstage needs to know it."
"I've got a few toys these days. Not sure if I'm willing to share, though. What's in it for me?"
"You've watched Neville, I'm sure. All the guys have... all us alphas. But he seems ungettable, doesn't he? That's where you're wrong. I'll let you have a taste, Roman. You've seen how he moves... imagine how he fucks."
"He has gotten a rise or two out of me."
"I've been fondling you for two minutes now, Roman," Randy said. "Neville would already be choking on your dick and licking the precum out of your slit."
Roman was almost fully hard, and even Randy was impressed by the size, namely the girth. He knew how to get a man hard and keep him that way, but wasn't interested in much more unless it involved a couple of holes and lots of moaning and squirming. Still Randy rubbed the dick to its full eight-and-a-half inches. Through the sweatpants it felt like it had a slight leftward curve and was only half-circumcised.
"I see you're desperate," Roman chuckled. "You're giving a handjob to another alpha."
"Join my team, Roman. Maybe in the end you can get back what you once lost."
"So... you want someone who will use sex as a weapon."
"Exactly."
"Six o'clock," Roman said.
Randy looked up from Roman's impressive bulge across the aisle. Slumped in his chair, eyes closed and breathing rhythmically, slept Tyler Breeze, his hair in a tight dirty blonde bun.
"Kid's asleep," Orton said, squeezing Roman's dick enough that it was more of a discomfort.
"Give it a minute," Reigns whispered.
Orton did, and low and behold Breeze's eyelids fluttered after about thirty seconds. It was clear his eyes were transfixed on the show across the aisle, Randy slowly stroking Roman's thick Samoan cock trapped in the confines of sweatpants and tight boxer briefs. It took a while longer for Breeze to realize both the alphas were watching him watch them, and so he quickly pretended to be sleeping again.
"If you get over here right now and listen to every word I say, you can watch the rest of this show," Reigns said as he leaned a bit into the aisle.
Robotically Breeze stood and practically leapt across the aisle, taking the last seat in the row of three. His eyes were wide, his obedience evident.
"This is Randy Orton," Reigns said with a head gesture.
Breeze nodded.
"You're gonna be his for a while," Roman commanded. "That clear?"
"Yes, sir," Breeze nodded again.
"See?" Roman said, looking cockily at Orton. "It's that easy."
"What would you have me do for you, Master Orton?"
Randy smiled crookedly. "I have a job for you to do, but first I need to test you for myself. See if you'll cut it."
"Oh, he will," Roman reassured him.
"We'll see," Randy conceded. "First bitch, I want you to suck every last drop out of this big Samoan sack. Then..." Randy stood and started sliding out of the row. "Meet me in the bathroom."
Before Randy was even starting down the aisle Breeze had both waistbands pulled away from Roman's midsection. The dark beefy dick rose out of its prison and glided against Roman's torso, resting over his navel. Breeze tucked the waistband under Roman's balls, and they hung enticingly over the black sweatpants. Tyler only fondled Roman's nuts with dexterous fingers. His true prize was the cock, and he quickly engulfed it with a filthy bottom's hunger.
Roman knew he had to stay quiet; not everyone on this plane knew about the darker side of WWE's locker room, let alone even worked for WWE. It was a challenge though, one that turned him on even more. He let his head fall back against its rest and closed his eyes. Randy's hand had already done a lot of the work, unwilling as Roman was to admit it. Tyler was there to make him cum and take care of the mess, but he was extremely skilled in that. Roman particularly loved the way the slut swirled his velvet tongue around his cockhead every time his lips came up to the tip. Tyler wasn't even using his hand on the shaft, and it didn't seem he'd need so, so tight and wet was the suction he had around Roman's dick.
Tyler knew he was bringing Roman close to climax, but that was his task and he intended to finish it as quickly and skillfully as possible. There was an untried and previously unconquerable prize waiting for him in the back of the plane. Tyler could feel Roman's balls tightening. They had quite a bit of hair on them, and even his bush was curiously full, something that Tyler had always found refreshingly masculine in the current smoothness age. Tyler liked going all the way down on Roman, at this angle feeling his pubes against one cheek and his balls against the other while he squeezed his throat at just the right times to make Roman writhe.
He knew it was coming about a minute before it happened. Roman tightened all his muscles and quite literally bit his tongue to keep from grunting out in his usual dominant, beastly style. He had already cum three times throughout the day, but this one somehow seemed more intense, perhaps because of the necessary discretion. His hot cum trickled out of his dick, thick and white and delicious.
Tyler kept his lips wrapped around the head, licking it to coax the rest of the cum out while the whole dick from base to tip pulsed. For the first and last time Tyler ran his hand, fisted snugly around the shaft, from top to bottom, squeezing along the underside the last sweet morsels of jizz. Tyler sat up and pulled Roman's underwear and pants back over his junk and onto his waist. He was quick to stand up and walk down the aisle, his dick tenting his gym shorts unashamedly. He knocked a few times, with a unique code-like rhythm, and it unlocked.
Tyler dove into the bathroom and closed and locked the door behind him. Randy already had his pants and underwear off and just stood there in nothing but his tight black t-shirt. His dick was shiny, clearly spit-slick, and so Tyler needed to give no help there. Instead he locked eyes with Randy before putting his hand under his chin. He opened his sealed lips and let drop a very large, stringy cum and spit mixture into his hand. With his free hand he pulled down his shorts and underwear and let them fall to his ankles, spinning around at the same time. He bent over the small sink and started rubbing the makeshift Samoan jizz lube all over his tight asshole.
Orton appreciated the kid's spunk, his obvious eagerness to turn Orton on by showing just how dirty he could get. There was never much doubt about that, considering how flagrant the little punk acted on the air. Orton couldn't wait to turn him out, and so he took a handful of the kid's slightly sagging but brilliantly bouncy butt. He dug his fingers in and pulled it to the side. Breeze did the same with the other cheek, his fingers still coated in a mix of cum and spit and ass juice as he had fingered himself pretty deep.
Randy pulled off his shirt. He grabbed the lower half of his thick nine inches and lined it up with Breeze's winking wet hole. It was a dark pink with a bit of sparse brown hairs around it, all of which were already damp and stuck to the skin. Randy pressed the tip of his dick against Breeze's anus. The Viper pushed in slowly, enough to hear and feel that satisfying pop as the hole stretched and finally accepted the spreading invader. After that ritual of domination Randy went ahead with the rest. He liked to be relentless, especially in this situation where he had to prove himself and make sure Breeze would stay in line and play his part.
Randy rammed into Breeze. The Viper's hairless swinging balls smacked against Breeze's smaller ones hanging much closer to his body. His hips hit the top of Breeze's peach-fuzzed cheeks. Randy could look down and see his shaft almost entirely buried inside Tyler's warm, buttery manhole. Randy was smooth from the neck down, and he loved watching his dick disappear inside of his sluts, the view unblocked by pubes or baggy clothes or anything else that might get in the way. He loved hearing his balls smack against his bitches and he loved the way they tried to resist even though he knew they didn't want to. The pain had to be real; Randy's cock was intimidating, even in his own eyes, and Tyler didn't seem like he was fully prepared.
Randy didn't want to draw too much attention, and he always got off on this part anyway, and so he brought his large hand up to Tyler's mouth and covered it, squeezing at the cheekbones and pulling Tyler back so his head was against Randy's chest. The Viper kept pistoning in and out of the fuck toy, and he looked down to see Tyler going back and forth between closed eyes, fluttering lids, and wide open whites as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. Randy looked down Tyler's tight body to his arrow-straight, fully hardened dick. He had a solid grip on it, and was jerking it furiously. It was very wet, almost dripping, and Randy realized that each time he pressed his dick against Tyler's prostate, a new bead of precum came out of his dickhead.
"Fuck, you're a hot little bitch," Randy muttered into his ear.
Tyler muttered something behind Randy's clenched hand. He reached around to squeeze Randy's mostly flat but sinewy ass. He pushed Randy deeper into himself, nearly clawing into the Viper's butt. It turned Randy on a bit. He actually wanted to hear what this bitch had to say.
"You're a fucking god," Tyler said breathlessly as soon as Randy removed his hand.
"Who's your new master?"
"You are, sir," he muttered, followed by a pleasurable squeal.
"Viper."
"Yes, Viper!"
At that Tyler pulled away from Randy so suddenly that he nearly lost his footing. The quick bottom turned around and leapt into the air. Randy caught him instinctively. He locked his ankles around Randy's midsection and locked his fingers around his neck. Prince Pretty was relatively light. Randy held him up with just one hand cupped around a squeezable cheek. He let his other hand point his dick up a bit. The tip rubbed along the other cheek, and then up and down the crack a couple of times, and finally against the slightly-gaping hole. Tyler knew they were lined up and he loosened his grips so he could ease down onto it. It was only about three-quarters of the way in, but it felt amazing.
Randy loved having this bitch literally hanging off him. He moved in just the right way, as did Breeze, and soon the two were so perfectly in sync that they were able to keep a rather dizzying rhythm. Tyler's bun had come loose and most of his hair was hanging over his face. Randy looked into the kid's eyes, and he started to grunt with each inward stroke. Tyler matched the animalistic noises with his own squeals and moans. Randy's dick was glorious, and the pulsing of it inside him was driving Tyler crazy.
"I want your cum inside me."
"I'm gonna breed you."
"Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," Tyler said each time he bounced onto Randy's dick.
"Take it, you pretty little bitch!" Randy said through gritted teeth as he felt warmth start to spread throughout his body. His legs started to feel fuzzy. When he came his knees got shaky and weak, but he stayed upright and continued to rock up and down, shooting strand after strand of his venom into Tyler's hungry hole.
"It's so hot!" Tyler said as he let a hand loose from around Randy's neck. The top beast held his bottom in place, keeping his still pulsing-dick deep inside, rubbing it against the hot bottom's prostate. Tyler only had to stroke his this seven inches a few times before he started squirting. It came out like a sprinkler, landing on both their chests and abdomens, all over his hand and down his shaft and onto his balls.
"You liked that, huh?" Randy said as he lifted Breeze off of him, setting him onto the ground.
"Mmm," Breeze said as he leaned in and hungrily licked every last drop of his own cum off Randy's hard pecs and abs. Between feedings he wiped his own cum off his body and licked his fingers clean. "You're amazing."
"So are you. You've got a gift, ya dirty kid."
"Oh, that's nothing. You should see what I can do outside this little box."
"I'd like to see that, but I need you to show someone else, first... and then leave him for me."
"...Leave him?"
"Not for too long, just a few hours he won't remember... but the rest of the world will if I see fit."
"Mmm... I like how bad you are, Viper. But... why? Who?"
"King Barrett," Randy said straightly. "I'll answer all your questions, kid, but let's buckle in first."