Orton sat up with a moan. That ivory skin brushing gently across his was all he could think of. He was even dreaming about him now. How was this even possible. All he had mentioned was the two seemed to be really close, and corporate had taken his words and run with them. Damn corporate! Damn Miz! Damn challenges! Damn those cuffs! Orton lay back with a huff, shaking his head to try to free his mind of the images he told himself had no place in his head. He groaned, then huffed in frustration. This continued until one memory of their night together made him shudder: the thought of Sheamus sliding slowly into him. Orton's body went slack with a long low groan as he looked down with alarm. He noticed the sheets had tented around himself, and each thought of Sheamus plunging deeply into him made the tent shift a bit, and as the sheet slipped across his tip, he groaned and thought of Sheamus again. Soon all Orton could think of was Sheamus, and he lay perfectly still, panting and groaning faster and faster, until he closed his eyes, ant tossed his head back and sighed. He felt himself climax and looked down in shock. What the hell? I didn't even touch myself. He thought to himself. This would have to stop.