First songfic of Toni Braxton's Making Me High
Punk/Kaitlyn
It happened every time she watched his matches. Every time she saw him. That fire in her lower abdomen lit itself and drove her crazy. Each time she told herself she could resist. She could do without him.
Then came the crazy storylines. The ones bouncing her best friend between Punk, Bryan, and Kane. All those kisses AJ stole from her men, giving Kaitlyn little glances each time he walked by. AJ knew her friend had the hots for Punk, and she didn't care. She kissed him with a smug grin, and then tossed him through a table. She had used Bryan to break his fall, so Kaitlyn couldn't be that mad, she assumed.
She was wrong. Kaitlyn was livid, for reasons she had yet to figure out herself. She speared AJ through a wall in her fury, then waked away as if nothing happened. The two never spoke of it again. AJ moved on, but Kaitlyn didn't.
Punk moved on to fight Jericho, his nemesis. His attentions focused on his opponent. When he finally pinned Jericho, he sauntered backstage, finally noticing Kaitlyn staring at him lustfully. He returned her stare with a bit of smugness, walking towards her and pulling her into an empty room.
The door locked, and in moments, the two were making out feverishly, Kaitlyn overpowering Punk with her eager moans as the two fell to the floor, stripping as if their clothes were on fire and kissing would put out the flames. He pushed her legs apart and entered her with one hard thrust. Kaitlyn climaxed immedeately, then groaned and rode him into a second, then third climax. The fire finally died down, as the two came together with a chorus of moans.
Punk thought he could just walk away from her afterward, but that almost-heavenly glow overtook him as he watched her dress, cum leaking out of the side of her shorts on her mad dash to the diva's locker room to change.
Every time they sa each other, they scurried to the nearest empty closet and went at it like rabbits. As much as Kaitlyn needed Punk, Punk needed Kaitlyn. Twice, three times a night at times, until punk caught himself following the all-too-familiar path to her hotel room for a quick tryst on her day off. He told himself he could quit seeing her anytime he wanted as he knocked on her door, but even then he knew it was a lie.
The night she won the championship, Punk was ecstatic. She was just as energetic, and before either of them knew it, they were back in the empty closet yet again.
He stood backstage, staring openly at the monitor, worrying his lip ring as he often did, and shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. Several superstars gathered to watch Kaitlyn's match. He noticed none of them, and took of his shirt before he even noticed, a light sheen of sweat breaking out over the tatoos Kaitlyn loved so much. he let out a quiet whisper of a moan and headed to the showers, his tiny trunks hiding less and less of the pulsing erection growing there with every step.
He stripped and headed for the showers with one of her t-shirts, smelling it and jerking himself off. He knew nothing else would satisfy his desires. Nothing else was as good to him as she was. It was then that he noticed his own increasingly erratic behaviour. He was addicted.
He found Kaitlyn after one of her matches, explaining to her before he could be distracted that they needed to end things. He was too hooked. Too dependant. Too weak without her. It had to stop.
Kaitlyn had been sad when Punk told her they had to end things, wanting to be with him just as much as he wanted to be with her. But when she began to feud with AJ, she threw herself into that, taking out all her aggression on her former friend.
When the first secret admirer gift came, se was sure it was Punk, wanting to woo her back. She had een aching for Punk for some time, as he had been aching for her, going through purely sexual signs of withdrawal.
The admirer was AJ's invention. She even went so far as to forge Punk's handwriting. It broke Kaitlyn. She left.
As bad as it was for Punk seeing Kaitlyn and not being with her, not seeing her was even worse. He threw himself into his work, taking on Lesnar, then Reigns, telling himself he didn't need her the wayy he knew he did. But after weeks of wet dreams and lies, he finally had enough. The business held no joy for him any more. He didn't need the rush of wrestling, the adoration of the fans. He just needed her.
It was with the greatest ease and joy that pnk packed his things and flew to Kaitlyn. He waked out of the aren a for the last time, saying a silent goodye to the business he loved so much, but not more than Kaitlyn.
That night, he lay in bed with her for the first time in months, their bodies joining with waves of euphoric bliss, as they both knew this was a high they needed more than breath itself. This is where they belonged. This is where they both would gladly stay.