Denise Chester walked her class to the gymnasium for the B. A. Star assembly. There was a WWE house show in the big city and the small school where she was teaching had been selected for this honor, even though they were outside of the city. She figured none of the main eventers would be there, but the kids would be thrilled to see any of the wrestlers that came.

As expected, the assembly began with some of the lesser known stars; announcers and NXT performers. Ms. Chester sat beside her class, taking it all in. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught one of the more athletic little boys elbowing one of his friends and pointing at one of the other boys in her class. He was his brown hair was hanging in his eyes and his clothes weren't top of the line. He was that student who never applied himself but she was sure he was smart. He happened to look around. Ms. Chester caught his eye, crooked her finger, and pointed to the spot on the floor next to her. He shuffled over. She leaned over to him and whispered, "Who is your favorite wrestler?"

The boy's eyes widened as he looked at his teacher. He whispered, "Dean Ambrose." He looked back at the floor.

"Ah, good choice. He's a hard worker, does a good job on the microphone, and has a variety of moves. Do you know any of his moves?" she asked.

The boy looked up at his teacher. "He does the Crossface Chicken Wing."

"What about the Facebuster?"

"Dirty Deeds."

"Rebound Clothesline."

"You watch wrestling?" The little boy looked up at his teacher, absolutely amazed.

She smiled at him and said, "I do. And I know you can go amazing places when you believe in yourself and have a little help."

The two were shocked when the last superstar was announced. His music hit. The child whispered, "It's Dean Ambrose!"


Ms. Chester lined her class up to walk back to the classroom. The student she had newly bonded with had taken the spot at the head of the line. She saw the two boys maneuver to get behind him. "Boys, we don't cut in line. What's the penalty for that?"

"To the end we walk."

The class headed for the door, waving at the wrestlers as they walked past. As they reached the gymnasium door, the students started whispering. Ms. Chester turned barely maintaining her composure as she found Dean Ambrose approaching. "Mind if I talk with him?" he asked, pointing at the student in the front. Ms. Chester told her student to make sure he returned to class, knowing that this was a once in a lifetime opportunity for the child.

There wasn't a lot of time left in the day, so Ms. Chester had her class write a summary of what they had learned from the B.A. Star assembly. Then she had her students pack up to go home.


Denise kept to her normal routine. She straightened her classroom. She picked up the trash off the floor. She chatted with the custodians. She made sure she had all the copies she needed for Monday. Looking around the room one last time, she moved the desks of three boys and smiled. Then she filled her bag with papers to grade over the weekend. "Oh, the life of a teacher. WooHoo! Grading papers and writing lessons." Turning off the lights and locking the door, she headed down the hall, saying goodnight to her colleagues.

Denise walked out the front door of the school and across the parking lot, purse and bag in one hand, car keys in the other. As she walked, she heard footsteps, heavy footsteps, approaching. Her heart started racing. She tried to tell herself she was being stupid.

Reaching her car, she unlocked the doors and threw her belongings into the backseat quickly. As she opened the driver's door, she hit the lock button and started to slide in. A large hand grabbed the door frame. She bit back a shriek.

"Ms. Chester." Her eyes flew up to see Dean Ambrose standing next to her car. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air. "Our mutual friend said you were a fan."

"Did he?" Denise raised an eyebrow.

"He reminded me of someone I used to know." Dean leaned forward, resting his chin on the top of her door. She leaned back against the open frame, crossing her arms under her breasts. This act did not go unnoticed by Dean. "Damn, I wish I'd had a teacher like you when I was his age." She raised her eyebrow again. "You look like The Rock when you do that."

"You think I look like a six foot five inch, 260 pound, bald, Samoan man? Ah, okay…"

He chuckled. "Smartass." He let go of the door. "I saw what happened in the gym. How you handled that. Both times you were on top of it and he knew it. They may not have, but he did. You are damn good. Pretty damn hot, too." He came around her door.

She held up her hand, her palm flattening against his chest. "So, let's see if I understand what The Street Dog Dean Ambrose had just laid out for me." She stopped leaning on her car. "You spied on me doing my job. You pumped one of my students for information. And then you stalked me in the parking lot after school and tried to give me a heart attack by following me with those damn boots on." She stepped closer, getting into his personal space. "Then, you get real close and give compliments, thinking that a little school teacher will happily fall at your feet. Am I close, Mr. Ambrose?" Denise gave Dean a slight shove away from her car. "Because I am not impressed."

She put one foot into her car and sat on the driver's seat. Dean squatted beside her, his hand on her calf. "Um, who's at whose feet?"

Denise's head whipped around to look at the man beside her car. "What?"

He looked up at her through the blond hair that had fallen over his eyes. "You might not be impressed, but I am." he said softly, his fingers lightly sliding a few inches up and down her leg.

"What are you doing?" she whispered.

"I have no fucking clue." he admitted.

"Get in the car." Denise pulled her leg from his grasp and put the key in the ignition. Her hands held the steering wheel tightly. She watched as he rounded the front of her car and yanked open the passenger door. He bent his large frame in and slammed the door shut. The car was moving before he found the adjustment for the seat and got himself buckled in. "Are you going to the house show?"

"Nah. Got the night off for doing this today." He was quiet for a moment. "Ideas?" Oh, Denise had a few ideas. A half smile crossed her face as she guided the car along the roads to her house. "Ideas that you care to share?" He had seen her grin. She still remained silent. "This could be an interesting night." He drummed his fingers against the window.


Denise pulled her car into the garage. As the door was closing, she turned to her passenger. "I know your reputation. I know what you want. And I know you probably want some dinner. I happen to be an excellent cook. You do what I want and there's a win in here for everyone." She got out of the car and headed for the door of the house. "You can start by bringing in the things from the back seat." She tossed over her shoulder.

Denise hadn't been inside for more than a minute when the door opened again. She turned and said, "Shoes off. No mud in my house." He dropped his shoes in the bin by the door. "My school bags go there." She pointed to a spot on the floor next to the living room sofa. As soon as he put them down, she said, "What should you get for following directions so well?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?" he said with a smirk.

Denise shook her head. "No rewards for smart aleck answers." She went into the kitchen and grabbed two glasses. He was right behind her, pressed against her. Denise turned, put her hand to his chest, and pushed him back a step. "You have to earn your way here. Nothing is free." Denise side-stepped and used the automatic dispenser to fill the first glass with ice. Dean reached around her to take the glasses and set them on the counter. Then he set her on the counter.

"What do you want to drink?" he asked, finishing the task at hand.

"Tea, from the fridge."

"Do you mind if I have some?" he asked.

"By all means." she smiled when he handed her the glass. He leaned on the counter beside her. The only sound in the kitchen was the clinking of ice cubes on glass. Once her tea was gone, Denise fished out a cube and handed Dean her glass. "This needs to go in the sink." He had a glass in each hand and started to move way, when she caught him around the waist with her feet. "Don't drop those glasses." she whispered, pulling him back against the counter.

She trailed the ice cube around his collarbone, up to his chin, towards his ear, and back down again. She heard a change in his breathing. She slid both hands to his chest, around once, and along the waistband of his jeans. He turned his head towards hers, and she let him go. Dean's eyes were turning hard as he went to sit the glasses on the counter. "The glasses…go…in…the…sink." Denise said. Because she was sitting on the counter, they were eye to eye. After a moment, Dean turned and headed for the sink.

When he turned back around, the kitchen was empty.

So were the dining room and living room. It was when Dean looked to the top of the stairs that he saw her standing. Waiting. Slowly he walked up.

When he got within reach, she ran her fingers through his hair. She had stopped him so he was below her, at breast-level. He reached out his hands; one to the wall and the other to the banister, to keep himself steady. She put a finger to his chin and tilted his head up. "Relax, I don't bite."

"Not even if I ask nicely?" he whispered.

She leaned down so her lips were just touching his. "Comments like that deserve something old-school, don't you think?" Denise nipped at Dean's top lip. "Do you think a comment like that deserves an old-school punishment?" She nipped at his bottom lip.

Denise saw that Dean had a white-knuckle grip on her banister. She leaned in pressed a fast and hard kiss to his mouth, and slid her hand quickly along his crotch. Then she spun and headed for her room, adding a little extra swing in her step.

When Dean tried to cross her threshold, she held up her hand. "I asked you a question two times and you did not answer me. I don't know that you deserve…"

Dean stood there, arms propped on the door jam, rocking back and forth. Denise stood still, feet from the end of her bed. They seemed to be locked in a hopeless battle of wills until Denise raised one eyebrow. Dean dropped to his knees and Denise captured his jaw in both of her hands. "Good choice." She dropped a kiss on his nose before turning around. "Zipper." He made quick work of her zipper and she turned back around as he slid the dress from her body.

"Please…" She nodded. He buried his face between her breasts, breathing deeply. Denise felt his tongue laving the valley between the two. He reached behind her, unclasping her bra. Once free, he suckled one breast and massaged the other. "Oh, God." He moaned. Denise's hands tangled in his hair once again. He rotated from breast to breast, feasting and moaning, delighting in her endowments.

Denise pulled Dean back by his hair, giving him a somewhat gentle kiss on his mouth. "Take that shirt off." As he did, she leaned back on the edge of the bed. Dean was still kneeling on her bedroom floor. She reached out one foot to graze his arm. "Come here, feast away." Dean's eyes lit up like crazy. He reached for her panties, pulling them free quickly. He buried his face in her cunt like it was a free buffet and he was a starving man. He was lapping and sucking and thrusting like there was no tomorrow. Denise came quickly.

As Dean jumped up and reached for his pants, Denise put her hand on his. "Slowly." She stood and walked behind him, caressing him and kissing his back. She whispered against his skin, "Slowly strip and lay down on the bed. Face down." Dean's eyes were wild. Denise ran her hand across his cock. "Strip and lay down." She squeezed him tight. Dean was on the bed in less than three seconds without a stitch of clothing. "Close your eyes.
Denise whispered, crawling onto his back. When Dean did, Denise grabbed the handcuffs that were attached to her bedframe and slapped them on his wrists before he could move. Then, as he rocked underneath of her, trying to fight the cuffs, she tapped his ass with her hand. "It will do you no good to fight me. I am in control. Did you or did you not say you wished for a teacher like me? Wish granted, you have me. Now, take your lessons like a good boy." Denise wacked Dean's lily-white ass again.

Dean slid up on his knees to relieve some of the pressure. Denise slid her hand underneath and grabbed his cock. "I thought so. I tan your ass and you get excited. You are a bad boy." She whispered in his ear."

"Only for you." he replied. She stroked his length, drawing out a low groan. "Oh!"

"Roll over." He rolled, arms crossed over his head. "Let me explain how to eat someone out. She grabbed ahold of him. "It isn't a rush job." She started to slowly stroke him. "Draw out the pleasure. You want to see if you can make their toes curl." She leaned down and kissed his tip. Then tongued the rim. She slowly circled the head. Finally, she brought him into her mouth. "Anticipation. Desire. See if you can make eyes roll back into someone's head."

Denise moved up to kneel over his mouth. "Are you up for the challenge?" This time, he kept Denise right on the edge. Every time she was close, he backed her down.

Frustrated, Denise pulled away and sat on his ramrod length. "Fuck!" she screamed. She raised up and slammed down, raised up and slammed down, working herself into a frenzy.

"Cum for me, cum for me. That's it, baby. I want to see you cum." He moaned.

Denise rocked forward and Dean caught her, trapping her briefly. He rolled her beneath his massive body, gaining control. Dean's fists were around the bars of the headboard and now she reached up to place hers underneath his. Her breasts were mashed into his face. Her legs were wrapped around his. And now it was the woman underneath of him who gave him the order to cum, causing him to finally be able to release the stream that so desperately wanted to flow.

"Now, can you get rid of the cuffs?" he asked burrowing his face in her hair.

"I don't know if you've learned anything yet. You're still…" Dean thrust his still buried cock into her warmth once again. "Mmmm. Horndog. Complete and total horndog."

"That I am." he agreed. "Like a stray dog, if you feed me and pet me, I will keep coming back." Denise turned to look at Dean. "What? You are the one who chained me to your bed. I assume you want to keep me. Now, feed me, woman!" he said with a smirk on his face and another thrust of his hips.