Arrogant Romance

By Archangel

Five in the morning and I still can’t sleep. I have things that I have to do today. This is ridiculous. Fucking ridiculous. I sigh heavily and roll over for the hundredth time since I’d laid down hours ago, sitting up and turning on the lamp beside the bed. I squint slightly against the light, running my hand through my hair to push it from my face. I move myself back a little bit to lean against the headboard.

The house is so quiet and empty. My bed is wide and... empty. No one there to lie next to me at night anymore. No Allanah. No Lisa. No Amy. ...no Matt... Though that’s not exactly the greatest of thoughts, because I know I wouldn’t want him here anyway, but when I get lonely like this sometimes thoughts of him come up. But, of course, thoughts of Jay come soon after. The only two men I was ever with amid a thousand other girls, most meaningless, a few not. I think I miss Matt more than Jay because Jay is still my friend. I lost Matt completely.

I wonder about his comments on my journal though. He said I make him sick and not a few minutes later made a blatant offer of sex. The only thing I can think is that he was drunk again. He’s been doing that a lot since I ruined what he had with Amy. As if his smoking wasn’t bad enough. Fucking nasty habit. I remember he always would say, “Because I make this look good,” when we asked why he smoked. And it’s true, Matt could make a cigarette look sexy as hell. But then... he could make a lot of things look sexy when they really weren’t.

I glance down into my own lap. Typical erection when I first wake up, as all men do when they wake up. “Morning wood” we call it. Wonder what causes it. Some misinformed people think it’s because we have to piss, but sometimes when I wake up I don’t have to piss at all, but the hard on is there and then goes away. This one, though, isn’t going away. And I know why. Because thoughts of Amy and Matt are in my head.

Fuck those were the days. Before Matt left for his knee surgery. Every night was a blast. A redhead on my right and a brunette on my left. The redhead was the best part. Amy... She’s wild and hot, untamed by the world. Who else but the Queen of Extreme would agree to live sex in the ring? I saw a picture of her naked breast from that show got blasted all over the internet. Ooooops! Ah well, better than the other naked parts that I was licking underneath that blanket. And then what she was licking under there while I was debating on licking my championship belt.

I bring my hand up and wrap my fingers around my cock, finding my grip and starting to jerk off. Why not? I’m wide awake at five in the morning with a damn hard on! What else is there to do aside from watch infomercials on TV? I let my head fall back against the headboard as I picture that night more vividly. Middle of the ring, the lights low, the crowd eerily somewhat quiet as they all watched intensely. The soft bed, the softer quilt and the fluffy pillows that all still smelled of the packaging they’d been in. Amy... That hot red and black lingerie... Bending her over in front of me. That was almost scary, that moment.. Pressing my hard length right between her tiny round cheeks in front of a crowd of thousands. It was nerve racking and exhilarating!

I slide down a little in bed and spread my legs a bit as I stroke my hand up and down my shaft, slitting my eyes open to watch what I’m doing to myself. Yes, I’m so conceited I get turned on by watching as I jerk off. I don’t care, no one else knows what an avid “self-lover” I am. Fuck them if they don’t like it.

I close my eyes again, continuing my memories. In my mind’s eye I see her red hair shining in the light before she ducks under the black blanket, sliding down my body. I know that she’s not supposed to do anything because in just seconds Cena’s music will hit and he’ll come down here. But I know her... Amy can’t help herself with me... And just as I expected, she’s nuzzling her face against my cock through my underwear. I can feel the weight of MY belt in my hand as she’s rubbing over me. I turn my head and see the shining light of gold and diamonds.. reaching over and spinning the W... and I have such a compulsive urge to drag my tongue over the leather.

I open my eyes again, and this time they lock on the case up on the wall. My belt case. Lots of people who have been in this room ask why I would keep all my belts in my bedroom where no one could see them. Very, very, -very- few know the answer to that. I get out of bed and go to the newest of the three cases, opening it up and reaching inside, pulling out the Rated R WWE Championship spinner belt. It shines like nothing else in this world. I polished the hell out of this belt and made it beautiful. The gold, the rubies, the diamonds... the smooth leather. I carry it back to the bed, pushing the covers aside to lie it down, settling on my belly in front of it... just to look at it. To bask in the knowledge that I earned it. It’s all mine.. and it’s beautiful. It’s the same color as my hair.

I whimper slightly as my groin throbs with need and I shift against the bed, whimpering again when the friction makes me shudder. I thrust against the balled up sheets again, groaning with pleasure. It almost feels as if the fabric is wrapping around me. As if it’s stroking me like it was alive. I do this a lot. I turn my head to lie my cheek against the bed, blinking when it touches chilled gold. I almost forget the belt. I lie my cheek against it anyway, staring in a daze at the blurry glints of gold beauty before my eyes. Before I know it I’m dragging my tongue over the edge of the center plate, spinning the Rated R star around as I continue to shamelessly fuck my bed sheets. I wrap my arms around my trophy belt and pull it more underneath my chest. The cold metal presses against me and I gasp loudly when I feel it against the head of my cock as well. The distinct sensation of slickness comes to me and I know that my pre-cum just smeared across one of the plates. It lubes my movement. I moan aloud as it dawns on me...

I’m fucking my belt.

I give a harsh cry, my fingers clenching the leather tightly as my orgasm hits hard result of that one lewd thought. My cum splatters over the side and center plates. It adds a pearlescent gleam to the already sparkling diamonds. I pant in the wake of my pleasure and pull the belt around to where my tongue can reach the hot fluids that cover the gold. I moan softly at the taste and scent of my own musk mixing with the metal and leather. I sigh and lie my head back down on the bed, the belt snugly at my side... And finally drift off to sleep.

The End

Legalities: Christian Cage is copyright to TNA Wrestling. Edge, Matt Hardy, and any other mentioned characters are copyright to World Wrestling Entertainment. I claim no knowledge of their sexuality or personal lives. I gained no profit from this story. This work is complete fiction.