DISCLAIMER: The following depicts graphic sexual fraternizing between characters under the copyright of World Wrestling Entertainment, Inc. It is a work of pure, unadulterated 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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AJ Styles stepped into the elevator in a stupor, his legs heavy and uncooperative and his mind a haze. It was nearly 4 am and the hotel was a crypt. He watched with blurred vision as the floors ticked by, but the elevator stopped just shy of his floor.
Did my drunk ass hit the wrong button? he mused to himself.
He leaned forward as the door opened. A strong hand grabbed his wrist and held his arm firmly in place. AJ looked up to see two John Cena's looming over him. He shook his whole head to realign his sight and see that there was, in fact, only one John Cena... very big, very real, and with a smirk that hinted mischief.
"You're getting off here, chief," Cena said pointedly.
"Nah, man," Styles slurred with his slight southern drawl.
Cena moved his other hand to press first the Door Close button, and then Emergency Stop. The doors closed but the lift stayed put. That's when Cena stepped forward and used his massive frame to pin AJ against a wall. There was no denying that Styles had skill in the ring and enviable athleticism, but this wasn't a stage on which they were performing. It wasn't a show of sports entertainment. This was real life. John Cena was the predator, and Styles was his prey.
"You couldn't stop me if you tried," Cena said into Styles' ear.
The Phenomenal One coiled back as much as he could and sent a heavy wad of spit onto Cena's cheek. John chuckled and used a few fingertips to pull the saliva off his face. He wrapped his arm around Styles' back, wiggled under his waistband, dove down his crack, and pressed his wet digits against a tightly puckered asshole. Cena moved his fingers in a calculated circular motion and then pressed just the tip of his middle finger inside the hole. The hole shuddered at his touch and AJ wriggled against Cena. Styles might have feigned protest were he a bit less drunk, but instead he just closed his eyes and moaned.
"That's what I thought, kid," Cena chuckled. "They might let you have the edge sometimes on TV, but there's no cameras here. This is how the food chain works. I'm hungry, and I hear you taste real good."
Cena pressed himself against Styles so that he could feel his hardened man meat against his midsection. Styles snaked one hand under Cena's shirt to rub the stud's abs and pecs while his face dove into the nook of Cena's neck to kiss, suck, and nibble his shoulder muscle.
"You mighta spent most of your career halfway round the world in Japan, but word on the circuit even makes its way here where the big kids play," Cena said through Styles' long dark hair. "You gonna come with me to my room now, boy?"
"Yes, Mr. Cena," Styles muttered breathlessly as he moved his mouth to John's ear. He nibbled at the lobe and licked the inside.
"Follow," the Champ commanded. He stepped away from Styles to press the Door Open button.
AJ marveled then at the specimen before him. John wore a tanktop that had been cut from a t-shirt so thinly, and hanging off his body so loosely, that his big pecs popped out and his arms bulged out from his midsection. All the shirt hid was his abdomen. His gray sweatpants were taut against his thick thighs. By the looks of the bulge in his pants he wore no underwear. Styles nearly drooled at the outline of Cena's dick snaking down the right pant leg. It had been twitching against Styles, but now had started to soften. Styles wanted to gobble it through the sweatpants.
Cena turned to leave the elevator. AJ was mesmerized by the stud's wide and muscled back, but what nearly froze him in place was Cena's massive muscled bubble butt, so taut and round under the sweatpants. They wedgied between Cena's two globulus cheeks. Styles wanted to eat that ass so badly he could probably dig a hole through the sweatpants with just his tongue. Cena looked back over his shoulder, noticed the Phenomenal One staring, and snapped his fingers. Styles jumped out of his daze and followed Cena like the bitch he surely was.
Cena's door wasn't far from the elevator, an alleviating respite for AJ, who stood at the end of the small hall as the door closed. Cena knew how much Styles was in awe of him, but he wasn't here to put on a show. The WWE upstart, on the other hand, was. Still, Cena was a people person, and liked to make people feel better, so he threw Styles a bone. Both hands grabbed the loose tanktop laying under his pecs and pulled it apart, tearing it all the way off and letting it fall, shredded, behind him.
John Cena flexed then, showing off his arms first. He pumped one at a time and used his other hand to rub the bulging bicep. He posed so that his pecs came to life, dancing them up and down, and then tightened his abs and ran both hands over them, stopped occasionally to hook his waistband and pull them down, every so slowly, to the base of his dick. The Champ's cock engorged a bit more with each pose. He wasn't getting hard over himself. He knew Styles was hard, and horny, and obsessed, and his, and that turned Cena on more than anything else.
Cena was smooth all over, every inch it seemed. He turned around to do a few poses that showcased his back, a masterpiece that brought Styles forward a few tentative inches. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and explore the canvas before him, but he knew how this game worked. Cena rubbed his hands down his obliques, over the small of his back, all the way again to his waistband. The tightness slid enticingly over Cena's hairless butt, halfway down his crack, and then he stopped. He pulled his hands up and turned around. His dick was at full mast, tenting his sweatpants just below the lowered waistband.
"What do you want first?" Cena asked.
Styles ripped off his shirt, kicked off his shoes, slid off his socks, pulled off his pants, and jetted onto all fours on the bed. He stuck his ass out and wiggled it, his tight black boxer shorts concealing what Cena knew he wanted more than anything else. Styles even sucked his own fingers to full wetness and stuck them into his crack to dampen his hole. Was this punk playing with him?
"Come on, `big match Cena,'" Styles said. "Let's see if the rumors are true?"
"What you hear about me, huh?" Cena asked as he ambled over to the slut on the bed. He aggressively pulled Style's hand from his underwear. He dug two pairs of fingers into Styles' crack and tugged, tearing the cotton with ease to expose Styles' tight pussy.
His ass was round and perky and sparsely haired, but mostly smooth around the hole, recently waxed for sure, always ready to serve its purpose. Cena pressed his still trapped dick against Styles' butt, first over a half-exposed cheek and then along the crack. The Champ's thick 8.5" nestled perfectly inside AJ's spread cheeks. John pulled away just long enough to pull the waistband over his meat and let his sweatpants fall to his ankles. His heavy dick plopped again into place, and he rubbed it back and forth teasingly. The heat between the two was obvious, desire emanating from both the twitching hole and pulsing cock.
"Who's really in charge here, John?" AJ asked as he inched backwards on his knees, pushing John's dick up until it pressed against his lower abdomen. Styles shifted himself up and down on the shaft, the friction making John even harder. He looked down and bit his lower lip as all he could see was his fat dickhead poking out between his own hard body and Styles' taut cheeks.
Cena saw the first droplet of precum emerge on the tip of his purpling head. He remembered then that this wasn't about what Styles wanted, but what he, the Alpha, wanted. The kid was good, almost as good as the scripts they gave him on TV, but not that good. Cena grabbed Styles' ankles and pulled his knees out from underneath, plopping the Phenomenal One onto his stomach before turning him over with little effort and forcing the rest of his body off the bed. Styles' bare ass ended up on the carpet at the foot of the bed. All that was left on the bed was his head, the back of which lay on the comforter. Styles hair had been messed a bit during the tussle, and it lay in every direction around his head haphazardly. Cena's dick dangled just inches from Styles' face, his heavy egg-sized balls another 8.5" away.
"Open up, punk," Cena told him.
Styles just smirked, but he couldn't take his eyes off the thick and veiny shaft, the smooth and heavy balls dangling a few inches down, the smooth and thick thighs he knew would pack so much punch.
"Not a request," Cena said as he grabbed a handful of Styles hair and pressed it down so it tugged against Styles' scalp. This pinned his head to the bed. Cena shifted forward so that his balls dragged over Styles' stubbly chin, his pursed lips, his nose, his fluttering eyes, and then back down. Cena dragged them all over Styles' face until finally he opened his mouth enough to suck one in. Styles went back and forth from one big nut to the other, sucking them, licking them, moving his head the few inches Cena allowed so that the wet balls dragged all over his face, making it sheen with his own saliva.
Cena moved back so that his drooped dick dragged over Styles' face. AJ stuck his tongue out so the bottom of Cena's dick trailed over it. John let his head rest on Styles' big tongue. He reached down to grab the base and smack his dickhead against the tongue, and then slide it back and forth over lips and cheeks, up over AJ's nose, smacking his eyes and his forehead. Styles' mouth was open for the taking, and John was tiring of this foreplay. He gave up a bit on Styles' hair so he could lift his head and provide a better angle for Cena to bury his dick down the throat.
Styles had a minor gag reflex, but it reacted harshly when the Champ immediately bombarded the far reaches of Styles' throat. He coughed against Cena's dick, coating the first half in a thick coat of slick spit. His throat contracted nicely against the middle of Cena's shaft, and the Champ moved back and forth to get the full sensation. He buried deep once again, his balls spread over Styles' chin. He pulled out slowly, Styles' throat contracting brilliantly around Cena's sensitive mushroom tip. As Cena pulled his length out of Styles throat, the Phenomenal One offered a phenomenal hand to the cause. He stroked all 8.5" with a tightening and loosing motion, some twisting, plenty of mixing of saliva and precum.
Styles came to life then. This dick was too good to play games with, and Cena was too big and sexy to manipulate. Styles knew his place, desired it, and did not want to disappoint. Cena fully let up his grip on Styles' hair and let the kid go to work. Styles' sucked dick maddeningly good. He used his hand and mouth on the shaft, taking almost three-quarters of it into his mouth with each stroke, squeezing what remained of the shaft heartily with his hand. Cena's dickhead got throated every few seconds. The tight and wet dick chute was making John weak in the knees. Styles used his free hand to play with John's big balls and press against his hard taint.
"Fuck yeah, suck that dick," John encouraged.
Styles pulled his mouth off Cena's dick, a thick rope of saliva still connecting dickhead to wet lips, only to say, "Take me."
John decided to go savage on this dirty boy. He leaned down and grabbed him under the arms. Soon he had him flipped upside down, holding him around his midsection in a bearhug, so that AJ's face was in front of Cena's dick, and AJ's ass was open for business in front of John's face. All the Champ had to do was crane his neck down to dive into the wide-open butt. He swirled his tongue in varying speeds on and around Styles' hole, licking and nippling at his cheeks, even licking the beginning of Styles' tight ballsack. John could feel the hard heat of AJ's 7.5" throbbing between his peck.
It took AJ a few moments to orient himself, to let his hands guide John's dick to his mouth. He didn't have as much control as before, but the angle was far better for deep throating. Styles opened up and let the dick do most of the work. John realized what a perfect storm he had created. He let up a bit on AJ's wet hole, still on occasion spitting on it and swirling on and into the prize. But mostly he bucked up and down, letting gravity do its work on Styles so that his throat fell perfectly over his dick. He was fucking a stud's throat upside down, holding him off his feet, his slightly musky and drunk ass bouncing in his face, puckering with each penetrating thrust at the other end.
John felt himself getting close, the thrill of it all and the dominance he showed getting him off more than anything else. He wanted something else though. Showing further power, he removed one arm from Styles' body. This meant only one arm was holding AJ up, and he slid down ever so slightly, centimeter by centimeter, deeper onto John's dick. The spit that helplessly escaped his mouth had coated his face and dripped into his hair, over John's tightening balls and thighs, down onto the floor.
Cena took his free hand and pressed two big fingers against Styles' hole. They popped in almost simultaneously while the Champ dropped another glob of spit to help the lubrication. Cena only went to the first knuckle at first, wiggling them around to loosen the hole. He dared to go further as all he received from Styles were moans of pleasure that turned to gags of satisfaction. Cena knew the bitch was getting off on this as he felt a dampness of precum through Styles' ripped underwear. His dick was rock hard and leaking more and more with each bit of finger Cena pressed into his inviting slut hole.
Cena finally found the sweet spot. He pressed against it, and Styles moaned and gagged so much that Cena knew he was close. He was going to erupt just like this and it would be an amazingly wet and hot mess. The Champ proceeded to assault AJ's spot with his fingers. The Phenomenal One continued to moan and gag and spit and struggle to breathe. His dick leaked by the teaspoon, the wet spot spreading over more of John's chest.
"I'm gonna fucking bust!" Cena shouted. "You ready for the Champ's load?!"
Styles only moaned affirmatively, loud and deep, and it reverberated against John's soaking and sheen and buried dick. Styles' throat tightened as Cena's dick thickened to its absolute limit, effectively choking AJ for the 20 seconds of hot unloading. John's heavy white cum shot out at first in three big spurts, coating AJ's throat. The jizz then starting leaking out of Cena's round, red, engorged dickhead, still spasming with smaller spurts. The cum and spit leaked out together, again over Styles' face and into his hair. John's tight balls were soaked, his dick so wet with cum and saliva it slid out of AJ's throat with ease. Cena pulled his fingers from Styles' twitching ass and used both arms to place the spent Styles on his back. AJ caught his breath, but all the while writhed to lick and kiss John's shaft and balls, to suck off and eat the cum, to feel the hot jizz and spit spread over his face. John leaned over the bed with both hands pressed into the mattress, letting the slutty Styles finish his first feeding. Styles brought his hand to John's dick and smacked himself in the face, the noise turning him on even more.
"You wanna get off now, bitch?" Cena asked.
Styles just moaned and nodded, which John could feel against his shaft. It started to soften but stayed somewhat engorged. Styles reached down to pull the waistband of his underwear below his tight sack. It was a nice size, but definitely not a pair of hangers like John had. His dick, however, was almost perfect. It was an ideal 7.5" of straight-as-an-arrow, smooth, one-veined, rock-hard man dick. It was a nice handful thickness and the head was only a tease thicker than the rest, perfect for popping down a throat for tonsil hockey or through an anus with just the right girth to nail a sweet spot. Styles started to stroke it, but John was quick to pull the hand away after just a few strokes.
"That's not how this works," Cena said. "I'm a work horse. Every night... it's all about me. Now get me hard again, and I'll give you the fucking of your life. If you're a good bitch, I might even fuck that load out of you."
"Yes, Mr. Cena," AJ said breathlessly. He snaked backwards down the bed so his head and most of his shoulders hung off the edge. He brought both arms around Cena and grabbed an ass cheek in both hands. In truth he could have kneaded those cheeks for hours, but that's not what he was here for. He wanted to get Cena off. And so he shot his face upward like a snake strike and starting eating John's muscular stud ass for all he was worth.
John nodded his approval. He let out a guttural groan and even bent a bit at the knees so his cheeks opened and Styles could go in deeper. After about a minute of this Cena pulled back and forced all of Styles back onto the bed. He jumped up with him, straddling his face. His cheeks threatened to suffocate Styles, but the Phenomenal One moaned his approval. He was being smothered by the Champ's perfect ass. John's balls had retracted and sat loose again on Styles' chin. His softened half-mast shaft lay over his nose. Cena started sliding his dick over AJ's face as his mouth went to work on his tight ass, only ever penetrated by tongues.
Styles had a strong one, for sure, and a skilled one. He danced it over John's hole in a variety of patterns, stopping every once and a while to thrust the wet red tongue as deep as possible. Styles was loving the tongue fucking he was able to give Cena, but he was exhilarated more by the growing dick spreading spit and cum even further over his face. AJ could not help but send one of his hands down to start working on his own hole. The other hand rubbed up and down John's hard back and found a perfect squeeze of a round muscled cheek.
John knew he was nice and hard again, ready to show this kid why he was the main event. In truth Cena had learned almost everything he knew about being an Alpha from Randy Orton, but the Viper would never be able to lay claim to this slut after the fucking the Champ was about to give. He had strength and stamina in spades, and it didn't hurt that Styles' was one of the hungriest man sluts he had come across in nearly two decades, and he was aching for a full release while Cena assaulted his ass. He pulled his ass off Styles face, rammed his hard dick down Styles throat for a nice coating of saliva, then flipped him over onto his stomach.
Cena dove his face into Styles ass just to send a few mouthfuls of spit into his spreading hole. AJ had continued what John's tongue and fingers had already started, and one thing Cena didn't like doing mid-fuck was stopping to re-slick his dick. He wanted this asshole and fuck chute as wet and drowning as possible. John got onto his knees and reached to Styles' face for a few fingers of his own cum. He spread some on his dickhead and the rest onto Styles' waiting hole. Cena positioned himself between AJ's spread legs. The Phenomenal One already had his face in the blankets, knowing that no amount of preparation could ready him for this dick.
For nearly a minute he rubbed his dickhead all over Styles' slick manhole, slightly agape after the tongue and finger play. Styles pushed back against Cena, wanting to envelop the Champ's cock, but Cena wouldn't let him. Instead he pressed down hard with both hands on the small of AJ's back, and try as he might the Phenomenal One could not budge. Cena lowered his body, looking down at his dick hanging hard and glistening, making sure it would find its target. First the head popped in, and it felt warm and tight and slippery. Cena didn't bask slowly in the glory. Instead he dove in all the way. His balls pressed against AJ's buttcheeks.
Styles screamed into the mattress. It was muffled, but clearly a mix of pain and enviable satisfaction. Cena's dick was so big and thick and filling that AJ was able to quite quickly focus almost entirely on the pleasure; this wasn't his first big dick, after all. It might, however, have been his best. Cena started moving up and down, performing near-pushups at a speed that sent AJ's eyes into the back of his head. The Champ pushed down on Styles so hard the bottom's rock-hard prick nearly stabbed through the mattress. It was leaking like a busted faucet. Cena hit AJ's sweet spot with every glorious stroke.
Cena repositioned himself, and in turn Styles, so that his legs were outside of AJ's. On his knees he was able to get more leverage and pump into AJ with more ferocity. He started grunting like a beast possessed. His brow beaded with sweat, his muscles were set to burst, his dick was so engorged he wondered how there was enough blood left in the rest of his body to perform. Surely he was less than his human self. He felt more animal now than he ever had before, more so now than with any other dirty bottom slut under him. Styles deserved the best. Cena slithered backwards, his hands on Styles' waist pulling him back and up while the Champ shifted to his feet. Styles was on his knees, his face still down, his back arched and ass up like a good bitch, and Cena continuing his anal assault without missing a beat.
"Up on all fours, bitch!" Cena commanded.
Styles obliged, throwing his head up, his dark hair a mess down to his shoulders. Cena grabbed a handful of it. He held tight and pulled back as hard as he could without pulling it from the scalp. It was the closest he could get to keeping this bitch on a leash. Cena pounded Styles hard, his thighs smacking into Styles' pert cheeks, his hanging balls smacking against Styles' tight sack. He pulled his free arm back and swung it forward to deliver a hard, stinging slap to Styles ass. AJ moaned, high-pitched and needy, and Cena knew the bitch liked it.
Again and again, sometimes in rapid succession, sometimes waiting until Styles begged, "Spank me, stud!" Each slap reddened Styles cheek a brighter shade. He switched hands occasionally, but all the while he had a fistful of hair and a hand spanking a tight slutty man ass. For close to 20 minutes Cena beat Styles like this on the inside and out, and never had he heard so much as a whimper of protest. Instead AJ let out appreciative moans. His grunts were incentive for Cena to fuck harder and faster, to stroke longer with the full length of his dick, to bury his cock so far in for a few seconds that it pulsed against Styles' near-gaping man pussy. Styles begged like the greedy slut Cena had always pegged him to be.
Cena reached forward and pushed Styles' head back down to the mattress. AJ's ass high in the air, Cena jumped up onto the bed so he hovered over his conquered slut. The Phenomenal Ass looked up at him, tighter and looser with each of AJ's breaths, wider than ever and ready to be ravaged again. Cena grabbed the base of his dick and squatted down, pointing his dickhead downwards, dropping his fuck stick into AJ like he was churning butter. He pulled out entirely, and AJ quivered and whimpered until Cena stuck his dick in again, to which AJ moaned or grunted or screamed. Up and down he went, working Styles' ass, for a good fifteen minutes.
Cena suddenly plopped onto his back on the bed and commanded, "Work it."
Styles climbed atop him in a tither and immediately sat on the Champ's dick. He impaled himself on it, tightened his ass like a clamp and wriggled and writhed and rotated to his own immense pleasure. He reached around to rub Cena's massive thighs, rub and cup and tug his massive balls full of another massive load. His hands roamed over Cena's washboard abs and cupped and squeezed the perfectly muscled pecs. He rubbed Cena's big arms and pinched and twisted his nipples. All the while his dick continued to leak. So slick was it with precum he knew touching it would make him erupt almost immediately. He started to bounce a bit, slow at first, then faster, lifting himself a bit higher with each upward motion, but dropping down all the way to the base of the Champ's dick every time. He wanted nothing more than this dick permanently shoved up his ass, assaulting his hole, stretching his pussy and stimulating his sweet spot.
Styles knew how to ride a dick. It was dizzyingly perfect, and Cena knew he was about to cum again. It had been building since Styles climbed on top of him, trying to milk his dick with his hungry bitch hole while worshipping John's godly muscle body. His body was starting to tingle, his groin burning. He grabbed Styles' hips and lifted him about three-quarters of the way up his shaft. Styles knew to stay put. He knew what was coming and he stayed as still as a statue.
Cena started bucking up and down so fast and hard his balls started to redden, bouncing off both his thighs and AJ's ass. Styles was practically crying in pleasure, his bitchy moans pulling manly grunts from Cena's core. Cena pistoned up and down into AJ's fuck chute for a couple of minutes, giving the Phenomenal One all he had. John's balls started to tighten.
"I'm so fucking close," Styles muttered between moans.
"Shoot that load, bitch!" Cena barked with the hardest thrusts he could muster, straight into the sweet spot.
AJ spasmed and shook as his dick exploded. It squirted onto John's chest twice and then a few times onto his lower abdomen before it trickled, hot and white and sticky and liquidy. Cena grabbed his bitch's dick and jerked it furiously so AJ could fully ride out his orgasm. During it all his ass had tightened back up again, and it literally milked Cena. AJ bobbed up and down on the dick, slowly, deliberately, his asshole so tight and wet and hungry it pulled the jizz from the base to the tip. It came out in thick, heavy globs that AJ's pussy mostly swallowed. A few trails of cum escaped the trap that was Styles' hole. They dribbled down Cena's shaft and onto his nutsack, down to his taint.
The Champ's load was hot and filling. Styles pulled himself off slowly, tightening his ass as much as possible to keep as much steamy seed inside as he could. He plopped onto his back beside Cena, took his fingers to his pussy and wiped off the jizzy residue. He sucked his fingers greedily while Cena grabbed slick spots of cum and spit and ass juice off his softening dick. He fed it to his fulfilled bottom conquest. AJ sucked at the fingers; he would have deep-throated them had they been long enough. Styles was still recovering, panting even, when Cena stood up.
"I'm gonna clean myself up," Cena told him, grabbing a fresh towel from a pile on a nearby reading chair. "Catch your breath, kid, then bring me my holes. I'm gonna fuck you silly from both ends in the shower and tub, got it?"
Styles moved his sweat-soaked hair off his face. His bright blue eyes and big smile gleamed up at his Champ, his top, his master. "Yes, sir."
AJ watched John's soft dick move back and forth with each step. He watched his round muscle ass leave, and with a deep breath he felt the familiar pang of his soft dick starting to harden.