Jaded by her fiancé's disinterest in her ambitions to become a professional wrestler, Delilah Parrish's life takes an interesting turn when one of WWE's top names offers her the support she's not getting at home.
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Two months later...
Their bare chests and foreheads pressed together, their heavy breaths in unison as he rolled his pelvis against hers. The moan that slipped from her lips buoyed him to rock his hips more forcefully so that he sank deeper into her. The bed creaked repeatedly beneath them, accompanying the sounds of her whimpers and his grunts filling the dark room.
"Fuck!" Delilah whined. Her pussy was sopping and wrapped around his cock like a glove, welcoming every thrust. Shutting her eyes, she hissed as his mouth traveled to the crook of her neck, greedily suckling the soft skin of her throat. Pausing for a second, he grabbed her legs from his waist and hooked them over his arms, opening her up, bringing his dick so much deeper inside her that they both moaned out loud at the first couple of strokes.
"Look at me," he purred, and obediently, her eyes locked on his face; Damp, soft hair, flushed chiseled cheeks, his full lips surrounded by a thick trimmed beard, parted in pleasure, revealing the glint of his jeweled grill. His dark eyes were dilated but unwavering as they bore into her own. She gasped when his hand wrapped around her throat, squeezing lightly. All the while, his dick plowed her wet heat, hitting her g-spot and dragging wave after wave of pleasure out of her willing body.
"What's my name, huh?" he rasped, squeezing her neck more harshly this time, "What's my fuckin' name?"
"Daddy," she replied, right as he dipped his head down to swirl his tongue inside her mouth. She returned his hungry kiss, moaning into his mouth when his hips snapped harder. Every move from him was deliberate, demanding, delicious. She could feel him swell inside her, and it caused her belly to tighten, that familiar sweet burn scorching up her body. When she couldn't hold back anymore, she let go with a throaty, desperate moan. Her hands slid upwards to grip his mullet, to hold onto him while the orgasm ran its course. But his hair was shorter, coarser. When she reopened her eyes, the beard, the grill and the tattoos were gone, and a whole other familiar, intense face stared back at her, dumping her back to reality...
On top of her, Andre groaned, his handsome features awash with pleasure. Delilah gasped softly as he pushed deep into her one more time, filling her, and hissed when his hand finally released her thigh. He slid off of her and flopped onto his back, his chest heaving up and down. "Goddamn," he gasped in satisfaction.
Delilah sat up and swung her legs off the bed, her feet touching the floor. Running both hands over her face, she silently cursed her overactive imagination. She could hear him peeling off the condom and disposing of it. She had insisted - the last thing she wanted was a pregnancy just as she was making real progress with her wrestling. With him at the other side of the bed, she found herself grateful for the distance.
"Fuck, babe. That was amazing. Not to mention different," Andre said from behind her. Crawling back over, he hugged her and kissed her neck, staring at her with a childlike awe. "You've never called me Daddy before, either. That was sexy as hell. I don't know what's gotten into you lately, but I kinda like it."
