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Dirk and Michelle played opposite of Lis and me in the final match. Because of the roughness of the final bout, we alternated roles. Tonight, Lis and Dirk played the heavies, but when the show arrived in Jackson, it would be Michelle and me in the dark suits.

It was only natural, considering our performances, and the raw sex appeal of all the performers, that somebody would end up fucking someone else. So long as it didn't affect the show, I didn't have a problem with the performers sharing their bodies. Antony and Dena were married, as were Dirk and Michelle, and Lis and I were long time companions in an exclusive relationship, as were David and Beverly. There was some additional bed hopping, but so long as everyone kept their personal and professional lives straight, I wasn't going to try to put a stop to it. I was certain that any attempt by me to curtail the fucking would do nothing but drive the sex underground.

Months ago, I'd caught Mike and Harlow fucking in a tangle of arms and legs with Justin and Candy, though they weren't exactly trying to hide what they were doing. The four of them were on the floor under the ring, their bodies tightly wrapped around various supports and each other, wedged into a space barely big enough to hold them. When I'd heard the soft thumps, snarls, and groans from under the ring, the sounds of the second bout, but turned down from eleven to a two or three, I'd raised the curtain to find Mike and Justin's hard cocks deep inside Harlow and Candy.

I'd watched for perhaps fifteen seconds, fascinated by how Mike's back was pressed against a cross beam while his balls were all but rubbing against one of the many legs supporting the ring as his hips slowly rose and fell. His muscular limbs were to either side of the support as he held himself up on stiff arms, Harlow crushing her breasts into his rippled chest with her fingers biting deep into his muscular back. With her shoulders elevated slightly off the floor, Harlow's head was tipped back over Justin's shoulder as she and Justin kissed furiously, while Justin's big hands repeatedly slammed Candy's pussy down on his cock.

Candy and Justin were just as tightly wedged. Candy was lying prone on Justin, her legs to either side of his hips as her breasts swung and sloshed with her motion, her erect nipples gently caressing his chest as her hips softly thumped against another cross beam while rising and falling in fast, powerful strokes. As she fucked Justin, her lips and tongue were engaged in a duel with Mike's as they stretched and strained to reach each other.

It wasn't what I considered a warm day, but all four were glowing with a sheen of sweat, so they'd obviously been fucking for a while. When it became clear they were so deep in their pleasure they weren't going to notice me, I cleared my throat. That got their attention, though they stopped fucking only long enough to claim they were performing research for Harlow and Candy's bout. When I rolled my eyes and dropped the veil back into place, they shamelessly went back to their... energetic... and not entirely silent, examination of how the human body responded to vigorous activity in a highly confined space.

Michelle climbed into the ring and dropped the duffle at my feet before standing beside me looking sexy as shit. Like all the staff that wasn't in costume, she was dressed in her HWE uniform of a dark blue shirt with the HWE logo in red on her left breast, paired with tan pants. The clothes did nothing to obscure her lush build. When she was the female villain, she was every bit as sexy as Lis, though we substituted Ciara Lonergran, daughter of Irish mob boss Patrick Lonergran, for Brio Gambrelli to account for her lighter coloring.

"Thanks, Michelle," I said as I kicked the bag to Lis' feet. "It's all there, including interest." The bag was actually full of old Chicago phone books to give it some heft, and wads of newspaper to give it bulk, so the bag appeared to be stuffed with cash.

Nowhere in the show did I specify how much money was supposedly in the duffle, because it wasn't important, but on a lark one day I did some experimenting with our cut of the box and the take from the souvenir booth before I deposited the cash into our account. With the mix of ones, fives, tens, twenties, and hundreds that we normally collected at our shows, I suspected I could squeeze a couple of million into the bag and still zip it closed.

Lis looked at the bag and then to her henchman, before her eyes came back to me. "Too late. Sign the paper."

"Fuck that. It's before the deadline and I'm not signing my show over to Ennio Gambrelli. Take the money and get the hell out."

"No," Lis sneered.

"Fine. Don't take the money, but still get out."

"Your show is worth ten times what's in the bag. Dad sent me to get your signature."

"Then your dad is going to be really disappointed."

Lis stared at me for a moment sucking on her teeth. "You're not going to sign the paper?"

"No... fucking... way," I said, hitting each word hard.

"Then you leave me no choice," she said with a jerk of her head at Dirk. A deadly looking semiauto pistol appeared in his hand. "Now, sign the fucking paper!"

"Michelle... get lost," I growled. "What are you going to do, shoot me in front of all these witnesses? If you kill me, how will I sign the paper?" I asked as Michelle crawled out of the ring, her eyes wide with surprise and fear.

Lis slowly turned to glare at the audience. "I am Brio Gambrelli, daughter of Ennio Gambrelli, and heir to the Gambrelli crime syndicate. You're not part of this. You may go with good health, but if you tell anyone... anyone... about this, I will know, I will hunt you down, and when I find you, it won't be pleasant. Understood?" She turned her attention back to me. "As far as the other... I have the services of an excellent forger, and if you're not around to contest the signature..."

Lis' threat woke up the crowd and they began to jeer her in earnest. I smiled at Brio. "I don't think they're afraid of you."

"They should be." She paused. "Are you going to sign?"

"Fuck... you..." I snarled, my voice low and deadly.

She yanked the paper from my hand and then jerked her head in my direction. "Kill him."

In a single motion I dropped the mic and grabbed the gun in Dirk's hand and twisted it down and away. He tried to free the weapon from my grasp, but I continued my rotation to twist his arm into an Arm Bar. Dirk bellowed in pain as his hand spasmed open and the weapon fell from his grasp.

The weapon was a movie prop, unable to fire actual bullets, though it was capable of firing blanks. I'd paid good money for that gun, though in hindsight I could have gotten away with a much cheaper rubber gun. The first time we ran the stunt, we had the gun fire a .22 caliber blank as Dirk and I fought over the weapon. As we setup and practiced the routine, none of us thought the crack of the weapon, no louder than a single small firecracker, would cause any problems, but the first time we ran the routine in the show we damn near started a stampede for the door, halting the show and forcing us to reset for the last match. We didn't make that mistake again.

Dirk roared as he tried to turn with me, desperately trying to relieve the pressure on his arm and to break free from the developing submission hold. Using his turn, I brought his arm around behind his back before locking my arm around his throat in a Chicken Wing. With his one free hand, Dirk reached desperately for my face, tearing his coat and shirt in the process, as he roared and bellowed in pain. I held him, my face twisted in snarling anger, as he struggled.

In an incredible display of pain endurance, Dirk rotated his hip with a scream, throwing me to the canvas. If I'd truly had him in the arm lock, the move he'd just performed would have, at the least, broken his elbow and dislocated his shoulder, but this was wrestling, and reality took a back seat to a good show. I landed with a thud, softening the blow by landing with my feet and legs first. Dirk charged in with a bellow, sensing an opportunity to finish me, but tonight I was playing the wrestling stud against Dirk's henchman. As he threw himself at me, I grabbed his arm, and with some help from Dirk, flipped him over me to land with a crash on his back.

I was on my feet in an instant with my shirt ripped and hanging on me with one arm exposed. I ignored it as Dirk staggered to his feet, his coat and shirt in tatters and hanging from a wrist. The coat was supposed to have torn completely away, but the audience was still able to admire Dirk's muscular chest and rippled abdomen. We were setting the audience up to think that this was another wrestling bout, like the previous, but this one was more... much more... and Dirk was just the set up.

I stood waiting, sneering at Dirk in complete confidence as he ripped the coat from his wrist and threw it to the floor. He stood glaring at me until I raised my hands and flicked the first two fingers on each hand, calling him to me. With an enraged bellow, he rushed me, but I was ready, and as he reached me, I grabbed him by his neck and pants, and lifted. Dirk leapt, to help me complete the Pinwheel, his legs arching high into the air as I rotated him before smashing him to the floor on his back.

Dirk roared in pain as he lay on the ring floor. I stood watching him until after a moment, he staggered to his feet again. One pant leg was well ripped from the stunt, the opening exposing his thickly muscled leg as his cock played peek-a-boo through the tear. He staggered toward me, unsteady on his feet. With a bellow, I went low, grabbed him around the waist, and lifted as I drove him hard into the turnbuckles. He dropped to his knees like a sack of potatoes before falling forward, grabbing for me as he did.

It didn't stop his fall, but he'd grabbed the pocket of my pants, ripping them badly, as he toppled forward onto his face. My carefully weakened shirt was ripped so it hung from one shoulder, and now my pants were ripped so badly that one leg was almost entirely torn away to leave my cock hanging out.

Sweating, I stood over Dirk, and though he was moving, he was clearly finished. I'd handled Brio's henchman in less than two minutes. I turned back to Brio, a nasty but triumphant smile painting my lips, but the smile instantly died when I saw the weapon I'd twisted from the henchman's hand now clasped in Brio's.

"That was... disappointing," she snarled, her eyes flicking beyond me to glare at the goon behind me. "You call yourself muscle?" she sneered as Dirk slowly dragged himself to his feet. I took a few steps closer to Brio, to give myself some room in case he got any idea. "Get out of here. I'll deal with you later." Her eyes came back to me. "This is what happens when a man tries to do a woman's job."

As Dirk laboriously climbed out of the ring, I glared at Brio. "You going to kill me now?"

"Are you going to sign the paper?"

I glared at her for a long moment. "Where is it?"

She tapped her breast. "Right here."

"Fine! Fuck it! Give it here!" I growled as the crowd screamed, urging me to stand my ground and not give in. I stomped toward the woman.

"That's close enough!" she said, threatening me with the pistol. I stopped with her just out of reach. Switching the pistol to her other hand, she slowly reached into her coat pocket and pulled out the sheet of paper, her eyes never leaving mine. I reached for the paper. "Ah! Slowly," she said, drawing the second word out.

I slowly reached for the paper, taking a half-step closer a she extended the paper to me. I took the paper, and as she began to relax, I quickly snatch the pistol from her hand and pointed it at her. The crowd roared its approval.

"You lying fuck!"

My lips twisted into an unpleasant smile as I wadded the paper in one hand before dropping it in a ball. "I told you I'd never sign the paper turning my show over to Gambrelli. Now, take the money and get the fuck out of my ring!"

"If I go back without that paper signed, Dad will be pissed." She paused, glaring at me. "Just because I'm his daughter doesn't mean I'm going to get a pass, that I won't be punished for not doing what he ordered me to do."

"Sucks to be you," I sneered.

Her eyes flicked down to briefly gaze at my cock hanging out of the front of my pants. I guess I should have put on underwear this morning. She chewed on her bottom lip a moment and then began unbuttoning her blouse.

"You seem like a sporting man. How about a wager? Me and you. If I win, you sign the paper. If you win, I take the money and go."

"You think you can take me after I dribbled your attack dog all over the ring?" I growled as she shrugged out of her blouse and jacket, allowing them to fall to the floor.

Her full breasts barely contained by her brassier, she began unbuttoning her skirt. "I didn't say I was going to fight you," she cooed as her skirt dropped to her ankles.

I was beginning to firm up. "What then?"

She reached behind her back and released her breasts from their lacy prison. "Fucking. Me and you. First one to tap out loses," she breathed as she wriggled her way out of her thong. "They call you Missile, right? Let's see how many times you can fire that fuck missile off before you're empty."

I forced myself not to smile. The dialog was no more over the top than the rest of the show, but Lis was good at milking a moment for all it was worth. I held her gaze a moment before I dropped the magazine from the weapon and racked the slide. Astute observers would notice no shell ejected from the weapon, but there wasn't an eye in the place on the gun with Lis standing there in all her womanly glory, her skin shining with a veil of perspiration from wearing a suit in the still uncomfortably hot warehouse.

"You're on," I said as I tossed the gun away.

Her smile was cold as I ripped away the rest of my shirt and began opening my pants. "You've just made your first mistake. No man can handle me," she growled, her voice low and sexy.

"Until now," I rumbled in return.

"Is that so?" she cooed as I stepped out of my pants, my cock standing proudly erect as a single droplet of sweat rolled down my chest. "I do hope you're at least a challenge."

I stepped closer before I hauled her to me and pressed her against my chest. "You're going to find out I'm much more than a... challenge. My—" I made quote marks in the air with two fingers of my right hand, my left occupied holding her body against mine—"fuck missile is going to blow your fucking pussy apart!"

She gripped my cock, the muscles of her arm bulging as she squeezed my manhood tight, my head tipping back as I gasped loudly. "We'll see about that," she growled before dropping to her knees in front of me.

She swallowed my entire length without hesitation, her fingers biting into my ass cheeks as she held me deep in her mouth. I bellowed with pleasure as I grabbed her head. I flexed, making the muscles on my arms and chest pop as if I were pulling her onto my cock, though in actuality she was in complete control. When she pulled back to catch her breath, I shoved her away, a hard push that caused her to bounce onto her ass. Lis was an accomplished wrestler and knew how to take a fall. She was going to take several in this match, as was I.

I stalked her, and as she scrambled to her knees, I lifted her by her ribs. Though it looked like I'd jerked Brio into the air, she'd actually jumped as I lifted, helping me to get the height I needed. I quickly spun her, so she was hanging upside down, and settled her so her thighs rested on my shoulders. Holding her by her hips, I attacked her pussy as she again swallowed my cock.

She slobbered and gurgled over my rod, holding me by my ass, as I wagged my face between her legs like a bulldog eating oatmeal. I wasn't doing much to please her, that wasn't the point, but it appeared I was devouring her. We had to make our point quickly. I couldn't hold her like this for long as the blood was rushing to her head.

"Fuck!" she wailed, the word long and drawn out, her signal she needed me to put her down. "You're making me come!"

I held her for a moment more as I continued to lap at her before tossing her away, lifting and pushing her hips hard enough to ensure she landed on her back and not her neck. I stood over her, glaring down at her as she twitched and jerked a moment before becoming still.

"Had enough?" I snarled.

She slowly sat up and then returned my malevolent glare as I slowly backed away to give her room to stand. "That's the best you've got?" she sneered as she climbed to her feet. "I'm just getting started."

"Then, bitch, come and get some more," I growled as I grabbed my junk.

Lis took two fast steps toward me before leaping into the air and kicking out in a Drop Kick. I began backing up in the instant before her feet connected with my chest to soften the blow. I stumbled backward with a bark of pain, but before I could recover, Brio was coming at me again. Carrying much more speed this time, she leapt in the air and kicked again in a Flying Drop Kick. I roared in pain as I took the fall to tumble backwards and crash into the padded turnbuckles, coming to rest sitting on my ass with my legs out in front of me.

Brio pressed her attack and threw herself over me. I bellowed again, not in pain, but in pleasure as Brio grabbed my hard cock, held it to her now sopping pussy, and then slammed her channel down over my rigid manhood. I grabbed her hips and began hammering her down on my cock as my face twisted in rage and pleasure. I roared again, her own wail of pleasure joining mine as we fucked brutally with no quarter ask or given.

After sixty seconds or so of hard and fast fucking, I roared again, my loudest cry yet as I tossed her off my cock. She bounced and rolled once before she began scrambling to her feet. I was getting to my feet when she slammed into me with her forearm held at neck level, but I was ready for her. I turned as she powered in, slipping the blow she'd aimed at my throat and turning her as she passed so she took the impact from the padded turnbuckles on her back. She wailed briefly as she slammed to a stop, but I showed no mercy, following her into the corner, squatted slightly, and rammed my cock into her.

She screamed, grasping me around the neck to glare at me as I grabbed the ropes to either side of the corner post, pulled myself in tight against her, and power fucked her like an overrevved machine, our cries staccato as I pounded her.

After a moment, she wailed again. Bracing against the turnbuckles while hanging on my neck, she lifted her legs and gripped me with her powerful thighs while simultaneously stiff-arming my head back. I bellowed, allowing the audience to decide if my cry was of pleasure, pain, or effort, as I grabbed her ass and continued to pound into her.

"Fuck! I'm coming! Your tight little pussy is making me come!" I bellowed, signaling Lis I was approaching my limit and needed a break.

During our match we used wrestling to give us, meaning me, a chance to cool down so I didn't come. When Lis and I made love, I could often come twice, but this was different. When making love, we took our time, and Lis was expert at reviving me after my orgasm, but during the match we didn't have the luxury of time and tenderness, and we couldn't run the risk of me going soft.

She screamed in return, dropping her stiff-arm to grab my shoulders, her signal she was ready. "Fuck! I'm coming... I'm coming as your big cock is filling me with come!" she wailed, thrusting her hips furiously as I backed out of the corner, holding her by her ass as we continued to thrust savagely.

On the second step back, we screamed together as I staggered and then dropped heavily to my knees, Lis releasing my neck as soon as my joints hit the floor to fall from my chest onto her back. Unlike porn shoots, where the male stars always seemed to spray their spunk all over their costar, I always came inside Brio so the audience wouldn't see that I wasn't actually coming at all.