The Bet II - And So It Begins...
DISCLAIMER: This is a work of complete fiction, I don't own or claim ownership for any of the trademarks mentioned within this story and as a work of pure fiction it does represent the true sexuality of those involved nor do I have any reason to believe the following events actually took place. With that said if you're old enough and legally able to do so enjoy. Feedback is always welcome.
John Morrison was on the floor of his locker room grunting, a solitary bead of sweat rolling down his tanned and tightly defined muscular body as he completed his daily routine of crunches. It was the final crunch of the day that Morrison's former tag team partner The Miz witnessed as he entered the room grinning from ear-to-ear.
"It must be hard to know that despite all this effort you won't ever look as good as me!"
"Yeah because the chicks really dig that beached whale look you've got going on!"
"What would you know about what chicks want?" Morrison climbed back up to his feet as The Miz raised a knowing eyebrow in his direction. "Anyway I hear you've been asking around for me, you get another craving for some Miz meat?"
Just to hammer the point of his question home The Miz grabbed at his dick through his loose fitting jeans and Morrison couldn't help but lick his lips at the thought. The truth was that during in the year the two men had teamed together Morrison had developed something of a craving for 'Miz meat', a craving that The Miz had been more than happy to scratch at least until they'd gone their separate ways.
"That's weird because I hear you're busying giving that to someone else..."
"What can I say, I'm an in demand stud and Johns have a thing for me!" There was a brief pause as Miz took a moment to give Morrison the once over. "But look at you, you've moved on and you're doing crunches in your underwear just who's benefit is that for?"
For the first time in his life Morrison felt oddly self concious stood in the middle of his locker room in just a pair of tight black Calvin Klein boxers he felt strangely exposed. He knew he looked good, his muscled upper body glistening slightly from his workout and there could be no denying that he filled the shorts nicely, both in the front and behind. As much as Miz had liked to pretend their relationship was all Morrison's doing John knew that Miz had been just as in to it as him, he hadn't been able to get enough of Morrison's tight round ass.
"No one!" Even if he'd wanted to Miz couldn't have suppressed his laughter at this response. "Fuck you!"
The truth was that Morrison had been hoping to grab someone's attention, in fact he'd been trying to grab their attention with little success for several weeks now. But he wasn't about to share any of that with Miz.
"How very defensive of you, what's wrong not getting any?"
Morrison didn't respond instead he shot Miz a dirty look and started to hunt around the room for his clothes. He wasn't particularly in the mood to sit around and argue with The Miz half naked. He wasn't really in the mood to do it fully clothed.
"Did you want something or are you just here to be your usual dickish self?"
"Actually I came here to repair our friendship to extend an olive branch, all that junk." Morrison raised an eyebrow at this. "I can't help but notice there's some underlining animosity between us and I think I've found the perfect way to solve that."
"Really?" Morrison feigned disinterest but it wasn't particularly effective.
"Tell me my old friend have you ever heard that old urban legend of a little competition, a friendly bet between John Cena and Chris Masters?" Morrison's eyes instantly lit up confirming that he had indeed heard the story. "I was thinking we might have ourselves a little friendly rivalry to solve some of our issues..."
"Where you now? And how exactly do you think that's going to work?"
Miz smiled at this, whilst he'd never admit it he had given this whole thing a lot of thought, he'd missed Morrison's sweet ass almost as much as he knew Morrison had missed him ploughing it.
"Well I figure the winner of our little bet owns the loser and gets to do whatever they like with them."
"And what would are little bet be?"
"Isn't that obvious Johnny boy? Its all about who can get laid the most and I'll even make it fair for you and say that only guys count 'cause I know you don't want to compete with the chick magnet with women!"
Morrison stood for a moment and thought this proposition over, mainly looking for a downside. Win or lose he knew he'd get at least one more night with Miz and if he won then he'd get it on his terms. He might even get a chance to use Miz' tight little virgin hole and just the thought of that made his dick stir.
"Okay..." Morrison extended his hand and after a brief pause Miz took it and they shook, setting their bet in stone.
"Now you're in lets go over the ground rules shall we?" Miz didn't wait for an answer. "Firstly no repeat fucks, Johnny boy that means for once you can't have my used cast off's."
"And you can't have mind."
"Like I ever would!" Another brief pause. "Secondly you've got to provide proof of the fuck. Videos, photos whatever it don't matter."
"Anything else?"
"I think that's it. You got two weeks to get laid Johnny boy, good luck!"
The Miz gave Morrison a friendly slap on the face before turning and leaving the locker room. The bet was on...
Feedback and suggestions are always welcomed, roberts170@hotmail.com is the address.