Cum Shot

Rating: NC-17 PWP

Original Date of Completion: May 2005

Disclaimer: I own no one. This is fiction, conjured in the confines of my demented little mind. That means it's fake, and you can't sue me. If the idea of graphic cum shots bother you, this is not the fic you want to read. Feel free to check out any of my other fics, such things don't exist in those.

Notes: Raw was in Wilkes Barre, PA at some point recently, Beech plays there with the Baby Penguins, so this isn't a totally random fic. The title comes from the alcoholic drink "Cum Shot" (Butterscotch schnapps, Bailey's Irish Cream, and Whipped Cream to top it off), and not from semen. Masters' gimmick in wrestling is "The Masterpiece", which is why that appears at the end of this fic.

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Beech's POV

It's not often life in Wilkes-Barre is exciting. Games, playoff battles, things like that are pretty much all there is, and they've become old hand. They're still exciting in their own way, just not in the right way, the way I want. I long for the days when I never knew what would happen on any given night. Nights where I could be whisked away on a Harley to some grungy club with a whining punk band, and be bent over a urinal, forced to submit to a guy who should've been too small to be that dominant; or nights where I could be blindfolded the second I walked in the door, and played with to the heart's content of three or four different people. I miss the spontaneity that came from dating Andy, or living with Toby. Now I live by myself, single in a town where everybody knows my name, because the population is around 35.

I'm exaggerating on the population, I must admit, but that's what it feels like some days. I don't think excitement knows the zip code here, or if it does, it doesn't know my address. Although right now, neither do I, the product of 6 White Russians and a contact high from the bathroom. Sad to say, though, that's old hand as well. The same old story, just a different night; a different game, a win or a loss, a trip to the bar, a ride home on the cock of the same old Wilkes Barre selection. Shane likes it when I tell him how big he is, Colby likes to be spanked while he fucks me, Murley will always be gone when I wake up, and Chiodo likes it best when we don't talk. It's all the same, just a boring old routine that I could get through while drunker than I currently am. I just want something new, something exciting, something that can get my blood pumping without direct contact. Unfortunately, I think I'm in the wrong damn place for that.

This bar never changes, the same people are always here after games, the same waitresses bring the same drinks over and over again. I really ought to blame them for me leaving out of here drunk every night, but I'd have to have something against that to do it. I actually like the automatic refill system, it never leaves me the chance to sober up, and it keeps the chit chat to a minimum. Speaking of, I'm just about due for one of those.

I finish my drink with a quick gulp, and no sooner do I set the glass down when the waitress walks up with another. Only this time, it's not another White Russian, it's something with whipped cream in a shot glass. I don't know what it is, but I know I didn't order it, my drink order is as much routine as everything else. I leave it on the tray, and give a glance up at the waitress.

"What's that?" I ask with a cocked eyebrow, my words slurring slightly. I can't say that's not a surprise, I'm usually such a coherent drunk.

She smirks and steps aside, setting the shot down on the table in front of me. "Cum Shot. Courtesy of that gentleman right over there,"

I follow her hand across the room, to the bar where my eyes lock with those of a behemoth of a man. He grins and nods in my direction, holding up a shot of his own, and my only response is to blink, not entirely sure I'm seeing what I'm thinking I'm seeing. It's not the drink that's got me messed up, people send me drinks in here all the time, it's the guy sending this one. I've never seen him in here before, I think I'd remember a guy like this. Probably not facially, he's definitely good looking, but nothing I'd call spectacular; the rest of him, however...I have to give it to his shirt to stay on an upper body like that. His chest could very well be the width of my car, and even across the room I can clearly see the muscles in his arms. He's got to be a body builder, or something, or just way too addicted to the weight room. Either way, I'm liking what I'm seeing. This place could use new blood like him.

New blood. New blood who looks like that, sending me a...Cum Shot. Hmm, this could be just what I was asking for. He certainly fits the new part, and I'm one more button of his shirt undone from the blood pumping. The exciting part remains to be seen, but the more I look over his body, the less I doubt that will be lacking. The only thing I doubt right now is if I still have the magic to seduce someone. I haven't had to try in so long, I could very well be rusty enough to fail at it. There's only one way to find out, though, and I'm too drunk to care about how I could wind up looking if this doesn't work.

I grab the shot from the table, holding it up and nodding in his direction as he'd done to me. Then with a grin, I bring the shot to my lips, flicking my tongue out against the whipped cream. I can see his grin broaden across the room, bringing one across my own lips before I return my attention to the cream; I trace my tongue slowly around the rim of the glass, licking up the cream from the sides, then dipping into the shot to take care of the rest. The cream now gone, I down the shot quickly, making sure to get some of it onto my top lip. Fortunately for me it's creamy enough to not drip, so I'm able to lick it up slowly, as seductively as I can manage, never taking my eyes from his. That makes my mission a successful one, as he stands up at the finish, grinning wickedly and taking a few graceful strides over to me. I guess I've still got it after all.

"I take it you like the drink?" He asks in a deep, booming voice, his eyes glinting deviously.

If I wasn't sitting down, I think my knees would've given out the second I heard him. Instead, they just knock a little under the table, and cause my grin to get even bigger.

"I always did enjoy a good Cum Shot," I say softly, swiping my finger around the glass, then slowly sucking the digit into my mouth to clean it. "Especially one from a guy like you,"

He chuckles softly, pulling out the chair across from me and sitting down. His stomach bumps against the table as he does, sending it scooting in my direction with no adverse reaction from him. My eyes travel down the stripes of his shirt, stopping at his stomach, and I find myself licking my lips. Sitting this close to him, the lines of his abs are as visible as his arms were across the room; those stripes are concealing an 8-pack, at least, and there was nothing but stone hitting the table before. Forget what I said earlier about needing one more button undone for the blood to start pumping, I just needed to be a few feet closer. If one more button were undone at this point, his stomach wouldn't be the only stone hitting the table.

He grins, leaning back in his chair "Well I've always been a believe I sharing what you've got a lot of,"

"I see," I say with a nod, grinning lopsidedly. "Have a lot of cum shots, do you?"

He nods, flashing a smirk as he rubs his hand over his chin. "That's something I'm never lacking in,"

"Mmm," I murmur, leaning closer to him. "So you've got more shots to share?"

He leans closer, brushing a hand over my cheek. "I can give you as many as you want," Again he smirks, leaning closer still and whispering against my ear. "Anywhere you want them,"

I shiver as his breath hits my ear, my lips curling into a grin. The magic obviously still works, better than it ever did if it's this easy to get him. I barely had to try, which is probably more of him just wanting it without wasting time, but I'm not complaining. I'd rather work up a sweat in the afterward than the lead-up anyway.

"I can think of a few places," I murmur, flicking my tongue out against his earlobe. "Why don't we go back to my place so I can show you?"

He pulls back and smirks, his eyes glinting wickedly. "Because the bathroom is right back there."

He points over my shoulder, but I don't need the directions. So without a word, I stand and strut off toward the bathrooms, turning back as I reach them to flash a quick grin. He grins himself in reply, then stands to walk over. I can see that he's hard through the dress pants he wears, and it's just as visible as everything else I'd seen through his clothing thus far. This guy may seriously be the answer to my prayers; he's new, exciting, chiseled out of fucking stone and packing enough to make a horse jealous. If he's half as good as he looks, I'm going to start praying more. I never have gotten my fireman.

As he reaches the bathrooms, I step inside, making sure he sees me walk into the very first stall. Normally I go for the last handicap stall, so there's room to move when I'm bending over. But that's not what I want this time, as big as he is, and if he really is the answer to my prayers, there won't be any bending over involved. At least, I hope not, the bathroom alone is as routine as I want to get with this guy.

He steps into the stall after me, and the tight quarters bring his body flush against mine. I growl faintly under my breath from the contact, sliding my hands up over his chest and pressing my hips to his. He grins and slips an arm around my back, lifting me one armed from my feet and shoving me against the side wall. He presses me hard against the wall, his chest pressing tightly to mine, his pec muscles flexing against me. He's an imposing figure like this, so big and muscular, strong enough to have his total way with me, and looking more than willing to do just that. Not that I'm complaining, I can't say there's anything I want more right now.

Clenching a hand in his shirt, I pull him down for a rough, heated kiss. He grins against my lips, kissing back with fervor, sliding his hands down to my ass. He squeezes and kneads the flesh, while my hands make quick work of the buttons on his shirt. He growls into the kiss, my hands roaming appreciatively over his chest, his slipping around to my waist. I'm not sure if he unbuttons or tears my pants open, but they fall easily to my ankles, and his hands snake into my boxer-briefs. I grind forward against him, squeezing my hands at his pecs, grazing fingertips over his nipples. That serves to increase his force, his kisses coming harder, more urgent. He shoves my boxers down roughly, and quickly he curls a hand tight around me.

"Fuck, you're a hot little fucker," He growls low, stroking me slowly. "I bet you'd love me to flip you around and pound your fucking ass right now, wouldn't you?"

He squeezes me tighter still, coaxing a whimper from me. "No," I shake my head, hooking my leg around his waist. His grip loosens around me, and he grins to match the look on my face. "Why waste the time of turning around when I don't have to?"

He snickers softly and nods his head in apparent agreement, as he pulls my leg tighter around his waist. I take that as my cue, sliding my hands down his chest, to his waist and deftly unbuttoning his pants. As I ease the zipper down, it becomes obvious why I could see his hardness so clearly; he's going commando and already dripping hard, completely proportionate with the rest of his body. Silently I say a thank you to whatever god answered my prayers with this guy, but it's a short lived thought as he pulls a condom from his pocket and holds it up. I snatch it from him with a grin, tearing it open with my teeth and working quickly to roll it over him. He growls from the contact, dipping his head to spit over his shaft, then thrusting into my hand to stroke it in. I give him a few quick strokes of my own, then pull my hand away, wrapping my arms again around his neck.

"Nice and fucking eager," He growls, wrapping his arms tight around me. "Just the way I like them,"

With that he drives his lips onto mine for a hard, punishing kiss, and lifts me easily from my feet. I gasp as he slams me back against the wall, lifting my other leg up around his waist and wrapping both tight around him. I can feel him grin against my lips for a brief moment, then all I can feel is exquisite pain as he presses slowly inside me. He rocks his hips roughly, easing quickly deeper, working whimpers from me with each movement. I think maybe I misjudged him when I called his dick proportionate to the rest of his body, he's bigger if anything, but I can't say I mind too much right now. He's either big enough, or good enough to hit that perfect spot, either way the pain is short lived. By the time he reaches the hilt, I'm nearly trembling from the sensations shooting through me, and squeezing both arms and legs around him.

He pauses only briefly at the hilt, then begins a deep, methodical thrusting. I clench around him with each movement, wiggling my hips slightly, earning me soft growls for my actions. Those are a good lust fuel for me, so I clench tighter, wiggling hips against his rhythm. His thrusts gain in force from that, his arms tightening around me, his growls turning to low moans against my neck. He bites hard at the skin there, thrusting faster, and I can't stifle a cry from that quick jolt of pleasure/pain. That seems to just egg him on further, as his thrusts get harder, less controlled with each passing moment. My head falls back on a moan, and he takes that opportunity to bite hard into my neck, almost gnawing at my skin. Few things in the world turn me on more than biting, so it's not a surprise when I feel orgasm creep up, without so much as a touch to my cock.

That's the only thing that could make this better, though. I know his hands are otherwise occupied, so that just leaves mine; I slip an arm free from his neck and curl my hand around myself, praying a little bit more that he doesn't drop me. My prayers are answered again, as his hands squeeze tighter at my hips, cinching me up against him and pulling me from the wall. I gasp as the air hits my back, squeezing my one arm around him, and he snickers as he stills his motions. I glance at his face in confusion, and am met once more with a grin.

"I gave you a cum shot," He starts, slipping his arm back around my back. "Now give me one,"

In an instant he yanks one of his arms free, slamming me hard back against the wall with his hand, and tilting my hips up. I find myself gasping again, not from the force, but from the fact he's holding me up with one arm. I can safely say I've never had that during sex, nor did I ever expect to get it being as big as I am. But now that I have it, I'm more than enjoying it. This guy may be more than a sent answer to my prayers, he may be the god himself coming to take care of them. In either case, though, giving him a cum shot is more than reasonable. And not too far off.

I stroke myself swiftly, squeezing tight all along the length, staring into his eyes as I do. He rocks his hips just slightly, barely moving at all, and I can see plainly it's killing him holding back. Fortunately for us both, that only has to be short lived; it only takes a few more strokes before orgasm takes over, and I arch my hips high on a moan, shooting over his chest and stomach, clenching as tight as I can around him. He growls hoarsely in response, rubbing his free hand over his chest, grinning wickedly as he does. I can't stop a grin of my own with that, that's one of those few things that turns me on more than biting. The only one left I can't get from this position, so I slip my arm back around his neck, and pull myself to him for a brief, but urgent kiss.

"You promised me more," I murmur against his lips, breathing heavily. "Time to pay up,"

I dip my head down and lick quickly across his chest, making sure to smear cum over my chin. I bite gently at both of his nipples, then pull back, swiping a finger over my chin in a silent hint. He obviously understands, as with a smirk he pulls out of me and drops me to my feet. My legs shake beneath me, and I find myself leaning into him for support. He snickers at that, pushing me back slightly, and squeezing his hands at my shoulders.

"You don't need to stand anyway," He says hoarsely, pushing down on my shoulders.

I take his hint there and kneel in front of him, resting my hands at his hips. He pulls the condom off quickly, dropping it into the toilet, then slipping his hand around himself. He rubs the head of his cock of my chin, then my lips, before thrusting past them. I gag at the sudden intrusion, but quickly recover, splaying my tongue along the underside of his shaft and swallowing around him. He thrusts easily, but roughly, slipping a hand to clench in my hair. He guides me along his dick for a moment, then pulls me back, holding my head against the wall. His hand returns around him, and with a few swift strokes he explodes, shooting over my lips, over my chin, leaving the last couple shots for my neck.

He slumps back against the wall behind him, breathing heavily, but grinning down at me. I flash him a quick grin of my own, then lick the cum from my lips, rubbing a hand over my neck and chin to take care of the rest. He growls softly at that display, clenching his hand tight in my hair, then leaning down for a harsh, punishing kiss.

"Never met a man who knew how to handle his cum shots so well," He speaks against my lips, biting the bottom one.

I tug my lip back with a whimper, leaning back as much as he allows. "Never met a man who could make waiting for one so much fun," I say softly, flashing a quick smirk.

He snickers, nodding in agreement as he reaches for his shirt. "I know. I'm a one of a kind masterpiece,"

I look him over once more, slowly this time, letting my eyes take in every possible muscle I can. I think I could stare for days and still not see them all, there are just that many, but there's one big one that's still catching my eye, one big one that's still jutting out in front of the rest, still throbbing hard. I think it's as much chiseled out of stone as the rest of him, in which case he really IS a masterpiece. Maybe even one of a kind. But from the looks of things, this masterpiece could stand to be on display a little longer.

I stop him as he reaches for his pants, holding them at his ankles. He glances at me in question, and I smile with fake sweetness.

"So if you're a one of a kind masterpiece, does that mean that was a one time only show?" I ask softly, letting my smile turn wicked, and rubbing my hands over his calves.

He laughs, and shakes his head, flashing a lopsided smirk. "This masterpiece is always open to admirers."

I licked my lips, and curled a hand around him. "Then consider me an art lover..."

END

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