Title: Lights, Camera, Action.
Series: Scene 1 of 1?
Pairing(s): Randy Orton and The Miz, Mentions of Shane McMahon and Daniel Bryan.
Genre: Wrestling, Sports Entertainment.
Summary: The Miz is infuriated after his loss to Randy Orton on the July 26, 2016, edition of Smackdown Live! What happens when a Viper confronts an already irate A-Lister?
Author: The Phantom.
Notes: This is a trial basis story. I planned on doing one in case this is not my cup of tea. If people want to see more, either give me a review critiquing my work or send me a private message.
Disclaimer: I own nothing! This story does not suggest the ones involved are mirroring these acts.
Transgressions of Daniel Bryan had befallen upon The Miz, encased with a louse of a Commissioner for Smackdown Live in Shane McMahon. If that wasn't enough, he had to deal with a bitter, over the hill flash in the pan as General Manager that had pent-up jealousy for Miz. Lunging his right appendage (arm), he shoved a bunch of make-up necessities from a wooden table as he ventured through the vacant corridors of the stadium. Off to a secluded area within the vicinity of the arena, he propped himself against a black trunk in a dimly lit corner. Another victory, ecstatic with that of his accomplishments in the ring, he overcame the competition; which was what he did better than anyone else in the game. A light sheen of sweat coated his defined structure, his velveteen, bulging pectoral muscles - his sculpted, chiseled abs glistened. Step by step, Randy followed behind the aggravated superstar, stalking behind him in methodical, quiet movements. Upon his alight, he quirked both of his eyes, staring at the fatigued, indignant star. "Your loss to me isn't the end of the world, pick yourself up and dust yourself off."
"Save the pep talk for someone who needs it, Orton. I can beat you any day of the week, I just had an off day." Did anyone really expect him to be able to focus on the match with his growing hatred of Daniel Bryan? All the guy does is abuse his authority. Bolstering himself against the wall behind him, his hands planted against the surface of the trunk beneath him. "Don't you have something better to do than to bother me?" Talk about sensitive and irritable. Inching himself closer towards that of his most recent in-ring opposition, The Living Legend enclosed the gap between himself and The Miz, posturing himself in between the former champion's legs. "You have a big mouth, you know that? One I've been dying to shut up since your first day here." Years of disdain accumulated. His index finger of his right hand traced along the A-Lister's chiseled jaw, grazing against his bottom lip in a teasing gesture. "About time I put you in your place, don't you think?"
"You what? My place?" In Randy's eyes, The Miz was still that clueless kid that debuted in '06, his growth spoke for itself. Brushing a few strands of his hair from clinging from his face, he didn't budge despite the slight discomfort in Randy's presence. This tactility against his jaw was unwarranted, a gasp, an inhalation of a breath through his faintly ajar petals, staring at the six-foot-four victor. "I don't need… I know my place and it's at the top, got it? Listen to-." The subtle touch, he couldn't deny his fondness. Before The Miz could consummate his sentence, Randy's interruption was not only abrasive, it was assertive. "No! You listen to me, Miz. You're not on Raw anymore, you're not going to run your mouth and think you can get away with it. Especially to me." Now, he wasn't one to flash his seniority over most superstars on the roster, only when it was necessary. Randy's left appendage caressed along the sleek, right thigh, lifting it from against the trunk to coil it around his slender waist whilst motioning for Miz to lean back against the trunk.
This escalated quickly, in ways he never thought were possible - instead of resisting against the temptation to submitting, he embraced, but he wasn't planning on making this easy for his adversary. All it took was a little maneuvering, his right hand against the left axis of the elder male's midsection, his left against his broad shoulder. Pivoting himself and Randy, with little to no resistance from the other, he subtly guided the apex predator down against the trunk. "You want me? I'm not making it easy for you." Curving his left knee, he'd mount the trunk whilst swinging his right extremity across to straddle the one man dynasty beneath him. Upon resting his backside against the rigid surface, he ascended both of his arms from Miz's flesh to prop his palms against the back of his head. The inked biceps bulged from the movement, not even bothering to assume control - he wanted to see what his counterpart at this juncture could do to arouse him. "The floor is yours, Mizanin."
Fingers brushed through the tresses of his auburn locks, hips gyrating in a circular, counter-clockwise motion; grinding his clothed, perky ass down against the effervescent bulge in Randy's trunks. His own trademark trunks seemingly tauter than usual, from the stiffened slab of meat. "Fuck, Randy! I can feel you already." And did it liven him up or what?" Leaning inward, his hips didn't bother with their wild gyrations; his lips leaving a trail of feathery, butterfly-like pecks against his lips, down his jawline, careful to pay attention to every detail of Randy's godlike form. Down along the path of his neck, which Randy abetted with the slightest tendency of his head. Lowering his arms from beneath his head, propped his elbows against the trunk to stare on as Miz worshipped him in ways never before. Simply astonished.
Scaling down, The Host of The Most Must-See TV Show in history nipped grazed his rosy, drenched, serpentine appendage (tongue) along Randy's right pectoral muscle, from the curve of his muscle in a harsh brush. The zest of the man that beat him not fifteen minutes ago was addictive. His pearly whites sunk down against the rigid areola, his tongue flicking against it whilst his blue hues stared at the similar optics of the Missourian. Eliciting the nipple from in between his lips, he continued down, daring to kiss along the abdomen - closer and closer towards the evident bulge. What Miz obliged himself in, it incited Randy. Extending one of his arms outward, his fingers combed through the Ohioan's hair, urging him on as he eased down below. "Mm.."
In seconds, mere seconds; Miz nipped at the bulge in Randy's trunks, caressing his tongue rather teasingly against the fabric. Hips arched, his plump rump high in the air, his own tights constricting against his bountiful flesh, accentuating the abundance of his orbs, quite similar, in ways, that a push-up bra accentuated the cleavage with women. Teeth sunk into the waistband of the front of Randy's gear, commencing to peel the material from his hips. In conjunction with Miz using his teeth, as an inventive technique, to discard his bottom - Randy lifted his hips from the structure, leaned down against the trunk to crook his fingers against the sides of his waistband, nudging them down his thighs. From the excessive touching, their bodies against one another and this extravagant foreplay, it was no mystery his cock had strengthened, hardened and thickened. The vascular, hefty, pale, hung slab of meat sprung from within his trunks, the underside of his veiny shaft tapped harshly against Miz's lips. Reaching down in between the bulk of his tanned thighs, he tugged at his ripe, plump balls dangling in between his legs. "Think you can deepthroat this?"
Miz always pondered, wondering if the bulge Randy always had in his trunks were made up of a sock or another thread of material he stuck inside his ring gear to appear more gifted, to amplify his endowment to unbelievable measures, he now understood that it was no exaggeration. Huge? No. Gargantuan was befitting to elucidate his hung member. Almost intimidated, jealous even. Doubtful of himself if he could handle it, but Miz never met a challenge he couldn't overcome. "Bet your ass I can." Tilting his head towards the right, his lips enclosed against the hard muscle, nipping and sucking. Focusing on one side, he gestured his head along the right side, running his tongue and his lips against the monstrosity, slicking it up with his saliva. "Like that, Randy? Like the way I take your thick cock?" Scaling heavenward towards the bulbous cap, a grin plastered on his features as he cleaved his lips agape, diving earthward. The bulbous head and the first four inches was devoured, his lips taut against torrid flesh. He fought with relaxing his gag reflex, loosening the tension in his larynx to accommodate another two inches, but he did. With only half of it in, he bobbed his head for the first forty-five seconds, feasting on the length at a methodical, steady pace. Randy didn't need to speak, entangling his fingers and tightening his embrace against Miz's hair spoke for him. Sitting upright against the trunk, one leg outstretched and his opposing dangled from the edge of the trunk. A yank of his hand against the hair, tearing him away from his cock as his free hand curled against the base of his mast. "Heh, you're more tolerable when your mouth is put to work." Swaying the meaty serpent, he persistently slapped it against Miz's cheeks, several times against his right cheek and several times against his left. "Let's see how talented with your mouth you really are." Aligning the mushroom crown with Miz's orifice, with a fistful of hair, he advanced Miz down on his cock, forcing most of his cock into his oral cavity, down his throat. "Take that cock all the way down."
He'd be damned if he didn't try his hardest to swallow the length all the way down, it was no easy feat for Miz, but he did give it his all. Veins pulsed in his forehead, his throat as Randy practically fucked his mouth with that gigantic rod. Struggling was a custom when there was something this grand penetrating someone's mouth. The rough intensity of Randy's hand forcing his mouth along the cock, guiding him in a brisk motion, he could barely keep up. The makeshift lubrication of Miz's spittle that drenched The Viper's muscle constructed a raunchy encounter. The pace Miz initiated of a subtle blowjob was apparently not on the menu for Randy, as he quickened up the pace in a matter of seconds. Lips kneading from the thick head down to the base, his mouth was impaled on every single inch Randy had given. Incessant pumping in a messy frenzy; he slurped against the saliva, engulfing Randy's cock sloppily with enough fervor and intensity that the resonation of his slurping, and his gagging echoed throughout the hallways. Randy's eyes instinctively rolled to the back of his eyes at the effectivity of having Miz take his cock all the way down. "Holy fuck! Shit!" Lifting his hand from the back of Miz's head, he placed them down against the trunk. Eyes closed enjoying the sloppy blowjob, he could feel the sleekness of his soaked cock propel relentlessly in the A-Lister's mouth. Teeth sunk into his bottom lip, his head against the wall behind him. "That's it. Now you're sucking a dick, Miz." Randy couldn't remember the last time his dick was harder than it was at this second, from a blowjob this adroit. Miz in the midst of it all, peeled his trunks from his hips, down his thighs and off his legs, kicking them somewhere out of sight.
The orgasmic, euphoric, intoxicating blowjob lingered for seven minutes without interruption, without prorogue on Miz's end; a constant concourse of Miz carelessly, hastily, sloppily polishing Randy's knob. Before The Viper's explosion from the messy act, Miz was hindered in his attempt. As Randy withdrew himself from the addictive cavern, a simple gesture was offered - deciphering what that meant, Miz mounted atop the trunk once again; his knees, his palms firmly planted against the obstruction beneath him whilst Randy climbed and positioned himself behind the A-Lister. It was that moment, which Randy would silence him or Miz would silence Orton. It all came down to domination and supremacy, which of the two ached for it the most, which one of the two yearned to prevail more; it was similar in concept to wrestling a match. Once Miz was in the assumed position, Randy's hands clasped against the perky, twin, bubbly cushions that he was twitching to drill. Leaning an inch above, he spilled a glob of saliva against the rosy pucker. "Gotta loosen this ass up a bit, darling." His index finger rubbed against the sensitive hole, smearing his saliva against that beautiful pucker. Leaning in closer, his lengthy, adept tongue flicked against the throbbing cavity, Miz was seemingly prepared to be stuffed. Teasingly, his index finger urged against the exterior wall to test its resistance. "Think you're ready." Lifting himself to kneel upright, with the embrace against the base of his cock, Randy aligned his shaft with the pucker of The Miz. One hand extended to latch against the man's right shoulder to restrict the squirming that would happen. A cautious lurch of his hips, the bulbous head of his cock prodded against the tender bud - implementing pressure against the hole. At first, it was faint, light pressure, a stronger resistance against intrusion than he would've thought. His hand crept over Miz's mouth, his pinky slithering into the younger wrestler's orifice. "Suck on that, this is going to hurt." Immediately after his forewarning - Randy gave a sharp lunge of his hips, stabbing only the bulbous head through the tight aperture. With that one hand still on his shoulder, he eased his hips onward, the sleekness from the saliva coating his cock in tiers made for an easy entrance. "Ahh! Tightest ass I've ever had on my fucking cock." Randy commented in praise. Burying himself until he was balls deep inside of Miz, he steadied himself for a moment. The last thing he wanted to do was tear the man in half.
If Miz didn't have the finger in his mouth and a high tolerance for pain, he would've screamed bloody murder. With nothing to grab onto, he figured sucking on Randy's finger was the next best thing. Twice as big as the magnitude he was accustomed to handling, the affliction was similar to that of something tearing into him, stretching his ass to fit around the girth like a glove two sizes too small. "God, Randy. Your cock is so fucking huge, I don't know.. Take it out, man." A horrific ache, like someone, took some animate object and shoved it clear up his ass without concern. His mind might've wanted relief, but his body was acting all on its own, his hips were urging Randy on with faint gyrations of his hips. As if Randy planned on pulling out, Randy caressed against Miz's back, his fingers scaling down his back to soothe him. "You need to relax, Miz." Both appendages embraced against The Miz's hips, digits an inch apart from one another, keeping a restrictive movement on the A-Lister. The Apex Predator didn't start off light, he figured the best way for Miz to get used to the feeling was to not beat around the bush. Sharp, rapid, staggering lurches of his dexterous hips, pumping his veiny, twitching length into the bowels, into the core of Miz's cavern, stabbing against the sweet spot he was sure was the reason behind Miz's screaming of pure ecstasy. From intimidation to bliss in seconds. The walls constricted against his meat, it took everything within him not to bust his nut inside of Miz at that moment. One thing he did have that Miz apparently didn't have was self-control and self-preservation. Dictating the pace, an uncontrollable frenzy of pulverizing the former Intercontinental Champion's ass. Several beads of sweat trickled down his forehead, but that was nothing to the layers that coated his ripped torso, his sculpted biceps, and his chiseled abdomen. It was the constant stabbing against his tender bud that drove him wild and the sole reason that he had came prematurely, strings of his cum in its own puddle against the trunk. The accelerated pace impaled his cock in the depths of Miz, steering his heft from the very peak of his tool and plunging himself deep until his base was within. His own balls lightly tapping against Miz's own. The captivating, thrilling torment of the other's pale, velveteen, voluptuous globes flailing, rippling, quivering against his pelvis - a reverberation permeated throughout the vicinity - it only intensified the moment. It went on longer than Randy would've thought it would, he lost count after the first fifteen minutes. "Shit! I'm… I'm…. about to cum." He murmured in between his breaths. All the indication he needed was the tightening of his balls to know his load was quickly approaching. Slowly, he eased his length out of Miz, a void for them both. "Get on your knees." To emphasize his command, his left hand thrashed against the left globe.
If he could squirm, he would have. Had he not been on the receiving end, he wouldn't have believed anyone, especially a tool like Randy, could've given one of the best dickings he ever had in his life. For the time being, it made him forget that he loathed this man with every fiber of his being. His right hand combed through his hair, his own body betraying him yet again by arching his hips. A groan left his lips each time he felt Randy's pelvis smashing against his cheeks, it was arousing but it wasn't the most gentle feeling in the world. Though, he didn't mind a little pain. Just as Randy pulled himself out, he wanted to finish it off with a grand finale. Dismounting from the trunk, once he was off the structure and standing upright; Miz descended earthward, kneeling in front of Randy. His tongue tracing over his lips. "Give me it, Randy. Nut all over my face." A smirk appeared on Randy's features, talk about thirsty. Light years from what their conversation before it began. Planting both of the soles of his wrestling boots against the floor, Randy bolstered himself against the edge of the trunk, leaning against it. One hand against the edge whilst his other enclosed against his length. With a brisk movement against his meat, muscles in his abdomen tensed, all he needed was to stare down at the needy loudmouth beneath him. The sight was one of the hottest visuals he could've asked for, way better than a Playboy magazine, better than porn. His left pectoral muscle tensed, flexed and bulged as he relentlessly stroked his meat until… ropes of his thick, creamy, viscous, torrid semen streamed from the slit of his cock. At least ten strips gushing from his cock to spray and paint the movie star's face. A sticky secretion that stained his lips, a long strip down his forehead, his right cheek and his chin. Not to mention at all of the string dangling from the tip of Randy's cock. Breathing heavily, he leaned back against the trunk and chuckled to himself. "Fuck, that was… awesome." The only time he would ever say that was after a fuck like that with Miz. "Maybe we can make our own movie, next time." Miz only narrowed his eyes, a laugh of his own following. Leaning in, he licked the string of cum dangling from Randy's cock, to swish it around in his mouth before he swallowed it. "Yeah? Meet me at my suite for Take 2."
After an agreement on that, the two cleaned themselves with a nearby towel and parted ways to shower, dress and meet at their scheduled set.