Post by Doc Henry on Nov 18, 2012 12:56:21 GMT -5
As the camera fades in you find yourself feeling a slight stirring in your loins as Doc Henry walks into the shot wearing just a man thong, a big cigar in his mouth. Doc strides to the window of his hotel room, looking out over Des Moines. The view from the presidential sweet is breath taking, especially with Doc the Cock framed in the light of the window. The stirring within your loins begins to tightens as your eyes are drawn to the bulge in his underpants as he turns to cross the room.
"Well, Waylon Cash and Steve Orbit, the Homegrown Players. This week isn't going to be an easy one, even if Joel and I were on an impeccable footing with each other. The fact is, yes there is some tension between us, but I have talked to him, and this week we have an understanding. You see, I'm not the asshole bastard that I once was, before I would have beat the holy fuck outta him just for his performance last week. Now, I am willing to give him the understanding that he may have had an off night. We've all had nights like that, and I told him that this week, he better bring it hard, bad night or not. Will I kick his ass if he doesn't, nah, that'd be counterproductive and in reality be a waste of time."
Doc grabs his zippo off the table and flicks the wheel, the orange flame providing a new light, as he lit the cigar. Your pants tighten further, becoming more uncomfortable as the smoke curls around him. As he begins to puff on the finely hand rolled Cuban, you cannot help but to begin to rub the hardness through your pants. "Waylon and I do have some history as he said. Now, while I do like the guy and respect the hell outta him, this I think is where our opinions differ. You see, my issues do not stem from me being lazy, they come from another source all together. My ego, my pride, hell, those two alone have left me in places within my psyche so dark that they alone acted like black holes upon my career. Whether it was during my single runs, or with my tag partners, I would let myself indulge those dark recesses and damn the consequences.
This week, my focus is on winning as a team with my partner. There will be no showing each other up, no ego checking, no trying to prove who is more important to the team. Now, I'm not saying that there will be any *not* showing off, and giving the fans what they formed over their hard earned money to see. The end goal is to win as a team, and get our titles back. Anything else would be considered a secondary goal." Doc stands and stretches, his muscles rippling underneath his skin. You cannot keep yourself under control anymore and free the hardness within. As Doc begins to dress and prepare for his day, your hand slides across the warm harness, the skin on skin feeling much better in the free air.
Doc sits on the bed, now fully dressed as he bends down and pulls on his boots, "Now, while Joel and I will be fighting this week to get back into contention for our belts back, I get the chance to get into the ring with the current US Champion Steve Orbit. I am sorry to say that I do not know Steve as well as I probably should. That will be rectified to some degree this week. Now, I am sure just as I am going to be scouting Orbit during this match that he will be doing the same to me, as I am after all THE number one contender to his belt, no matter what Jay Price has to say from his padded cell in the loony bin. This week so much is riding on the line. Not only are me and Hall getting back on page to get the Tag Team Titles back, but I'm sure Joel wants to put last week in the read view. This week also will see me and Steve Orbit in the ring together, surely a preview of some sorts, and how much of a statement would it be for me to get the pin ON Mr. United States Champion? You better bet your ass that I will be aiming to make that pin. Does this mean I will be looking to make said pin at the detriment of our team effort, no, because that isn't the main goal here, I will be just as happy if it is the Iowan Massacre who gets the pin, a win is a win, and I am looking forward to leaving Des Moines with Joel Hall and win number 59 of my WCF career." Doc stands and walks out of frame, your hand motions slow down as you fear being left hanging as the camera fades to black. Only to be thankful that it is a scene change.
***************
We now find ourselves in the parking area of the Wells Fargo Arena. You slow your hand motions, waiting to see what is going to happen. When Doc Henry pulls into the parking area in his red and black Charger, you begin to stroke yourself faster. The rumble of the well tuned and maintained 440 magnum motor creates a boiling within your balls, and you grab them, pulling slightly to keep from painting yourself white.
Doc exits his classic muscle car and heads for the locker rooms, slinging his bag over his shoulder. As he nears the door, he looks up into the camera, almost right into your eyes. You feel yourself twitch and you have to adjust your grip as you gaze into the eyes of the man whom you want. "Now, I have noticed that there are three people who just cannot stop running their mouths about me, Synn, Gravedigger, and Corey Black. Now I'm not sure what these three ass bandits are trying to get at. Now Synn keeps claiming that he is better than me and left me because he wanted a better partner. Well fine then, if that's how he feels, then good for his ass. I do has a question though, if you are as you claim, then why must you keep saying that you left me hanging to defend the Tag Titles by myself? It's almost like your trying to convince yourself, and not the rest of the world and the fans... Now 'Digger, I don't know why he's running his mouth. I've always had respect for the man, but he's an asshole, and I'm sure he'd even say the same thing himself. You two are definitely a match made in gay heaven, an asshole and a dickhead...
As for Corey Black, frankly I could care less what he says, the man just needs to get the fuck out of dodge, it would be better not only for him, but the WCF as a whole." Doc makes his way through the halls towards his locker room, as you stroke even faster.
As Doc opens his door and enters the room, you take your belt and wrap it around your neck, as your throbbing member pulses with your heartbeat and your desire. Doc begins unpacking, "This week, people will be talking about many of the matches on the card, from the WCF Classic matches, to big Tables Match main event. But the match the fans will be talking about the most? The Homegrown Players versus the Confederate Massacre. That's right, you have four of the best and brightest in this company, positioned in just the right place to steal the show. Yup, we're going to go out there and give the fans the best match on the card, full of near falls, big moves, and maybe even a few death defying, gravity challenging aerial attacks. Steve, Waylon, Joel, I say we leave it all out there in the ring. When the Confederate Massacre wins, I will be throwing a huge celebratory bash at Beach Girl's, the finest full nude strip club in Des Moines. Nothing says victory like a night of hot, sexy, naked women. Don't worry, I've booked the entire establishment for a private party, the girls will be all ours. Hell, even if you guys can beat us, I'll lift a glass in toast of your victory and you guys will get the first lap dances..." Doc begins to strip down, and prepare to get his pre match shower, your gaze is drawn not just to his bare ass as it comes into view, but his package as it comes into view sends you to the breaking point. You feel your balls begin to boil with impending release, as you pull your belt tighter around your neck. As the naked Confederate Champion heads to the shower, you lose consciousness as your orgasm overtakes you and the last thing you feel is a warm sticky goo hitting your chin as you fade to black...
"Well, Waylon Cash and Steve Orbit, the Homegrown Players. This week isn't going to be an easy one, even if Joel and I were on an impeccable footing with each other. The fact is, yes there is some tension between us, but I have talked to him, and this week we have an understanding. You see, I'm not the asshole bastard that I once was, before I would have beat the holy fuck outta him just for his performance last week. Now, I am willing to give him the understanding that he may have had an off night. We've all had nights like that, and I told him that this week, he better bring it hard, bad night or not. Will I kick his ass if he doesn't, nah, that'd be counterproductive and in reality be a waste of time."
Doc grabs his zippo off the table and flicks the wheel, the orange flame providing a new light, as he lit the cigar. Your pants tighten further, becoming more uncomfortable as the smoke curls around him. As he begins to puff on the finely hand rolled Cuban, you cannot help but to begin to rub the hardness through your pants. "Waylon and I do have some history as he said. Now, while I do like the guy and respect the hell outta him, this I think is where our opinions differ. You see, my issues do not stem from me being lazy, they come from another source all together. My ego, my pride, hell, those two alone have left me in places within my psyche so dark that they alone acted like black holes upon my career. Whether it was during my single runs, or with my tag partners, I would let myself indulge those dark recesses and damn the consequences.
This week, my focus is on winning as a team with my partner. There will be no showing each other up, no ego checking, no trying to prove who is more important to the team. Now, I'm not saying that there will be any *not* showing off, and giving the fans what they formed over their hard earned money to see. The end goal is to win as a team, and get our titles back. Anything else would be considered a secondary goal." Doc stands and stretches, his muscles rippling underneath his skin. You cannot keep yourself under control anymore and free the hardness within. As Doc begins to dress and prepare for his day, your hand slides across the warm harness, the skin on skin feeling much better in the free air.
Doc sits on the bed, now fully dressed as he bends down and pulls on his boots, "Now, while Joel and I will be fighting this week to get back into contention for our belts back, I get the chance to get into the ring with the current US Champion Steve Orbit. I am sorry to say that I do not know Steve as well as I probably should. That will be rectified to some degree this week. Now, I am sure just as I am going to be scouting Orbit during this match that he will be doing the same to me, as I am after all THE number one contender to his belt, no matter what Jay Price has to say from his padded cell in the loony bin. This week so much is riding on the line. Not only are me and Hall getting back on page to get the Tag Team Titles back, but I'm sure Joel wants to put last week in the read view. This week also will see me and Steve Orbit in the ring together, surely a preview of some sorts, and how much of a statement would it be for me to get the pin ON Mr. United States Champion? You better bet your ass that I will be aiming to make that pin. Does this mean I will be looking to make said pin at the detriment of our team effort, no, because that isn't the main goal here, I will be just as happy if it is the Iowan Massacre who gets the pin, a win is a win, and I am looking forward to leaving Des Moines with Joel Hall and win number 59 of my WCF career." Doc stands and walks out of frame, your hand motions slow down as you fear being left hanging as the camera fades to black. Only to be thankful that it is a scene change.
***************
We now find ourselves in the parking area of the Wells Fargo Arena. You slow your hand motions, waiting to see what is going to happen. When Doc Henry pulls into the parking area in his red and black Charger, you begin to stroke yourself faster. The rumble of the well tuned and maintained 440 magnum motor creates a boiling within your balls, and you grab them, pulling slightly to keep from painting yourself white.
Doc exits his classic muscle car and heads for the locker rooms, slinging his bag over his shoulder. As he nears the door, he looks up into the camera, almost right into your eyes. You feel yourself twitch and you have to adjust your grip as you gaze into the eyes of the man whom you want. "Now, I have noticed that there are three people who just cannot stop running their mouths about me, Synn, Gravedigger, and Corey Black. Now I'm not sure what these three ass bandits are trying to get at. Now Synn keeps claiming that he is better than me and left me because he wanted a better partner. Well fine then, if that's how he feels, then good for his ass. I do has a question though, if you are as you claim, then why must you keep saying that you left me hanging to defend the Tag Titles by myself? It's almost like your trying to convince yourself, and not the rest of the world and the fans... Now 'Digger, I don't know why he's running his mouth. I've always had respect for the man, but he's an asshole, and I'm sure he'd even say the same thing himself. You two are definitely a match made in gay heaven, an asshole and a dickhead...
As for Corey Black, frankly I could care less what he says, the man just needs to get the fuck out of dodge, it would be better not only for him, but the WCF as a whole." Doc makes his way through the halls towards his locker room, as you stroke even faster.
As Doc opens his door and enters the room, you take your belt and wrap it around your neck, as your throbbing member pulses with your heartbeat and your desire. Doc begins unpacking, "This week, people will be talking about many of the matches on the card, from the WCF Classic matches, to big Tables Match main event. But the match the fans will be talking about the most? The Homegrown Players versus the Confederate Massacre. That's right, you have four of the best and brightest in this company, positioned in just the right place to steal the show. Yup, we're going to go out there and give the fans the best match on the card, full of near falls, big moves, and maybe even a few death defying, gravity challenging aerial attacks. Steve, Waylon, Joel, I say we leave it all out there in the ring. When the Confederate Massacre wins, I will be throwing a huge celebratory bash at Beach Girl's, the finest full nude strip club in Des Moines. Nothing says victory like a night of hot, sexy, naked women. Don't worry, I've booked the entire establishment for a private party, the girls will be all ours. Hell, even if you guys can beat us, I'll lift a glass in toast of your victory and you guys will get the first lap dances..." Doc begins to strip down, and prepare to get his pre match shower, your gaze is drawn not just to his bare ass as it comes into view, but his package as it comes into view sends you to the breaking point. You feel your balls begin to boil with impending release, as you pull your belt tighter around your neck. As the naked Confederate Champion heads to the shower, you lose consciousness as your orgasm overtakes you and the last thing you feel is a warm sticky goo hitting your chin as you fade to black...