50 Shades of Dean Ambrose

by poetic heart 75

You've heard of 50 Shades of Grey? Well, this is 50 Shades of Dean Ambrose. What happens when Jenna, an average girl meets Mr. Lunatic Fringe Dean Ambrose and finds out he has a whole other side of him. Incase you haven't already figured it out, there will be explicit sex in the future. This is the warning.

14. Chapter 14

He gets down on his knees and kisses his way along my hip bones and right down to my womanhood. He looks up before sticking his tongue inside. I put my hand in his hair and he holds onto my hips. I felt my knees get weak and I almost collapse on top of him, but he has a firm grip on my hips and won't let me fall ungracefully to the shower floor. He holds me up. I can feel my orgasm getting closer and closer. He gets me off and backs me against the small seat at the back of the shower so I can recover the feeling in my legs again.

Dean: "Is that what you wanted me to do to you?"

Jenna: "Fuck, Dean. I can't feel my feet."

Dean: "You called me Dean for the first time outside of WWE events."

Jenna: "Yeah. I guess I did, Jon. That's because that was some intense crazy lunatic tongue action there. It felt like I was dreaming and your Dean in my dreams."

Dean: "It's all right to call me Dean. It's not like I'm going to get offended."

Jenna: "I know. I usually reserve Dean for when you're getting crazy or drunk. Jon is the man who shows me all that care and attention."

Jon gets a far-away look in his blue eyes. Suddenly, he's a million miles away from me. I can almost always tell what he's thinking, but right now I'm not quite sure.

Dean: "Jenna, I'm not the hearts and flowers boyfriend type of guy."

Jenna: "I know. You're 50 Shades of fucked up, right?"

Dean: "I wasn't even going to say that."

Jenna: "No, but your setting me up for that. Look, I'm not Anastasia Steele and I'm not some 26 year old virgin. I didn't go home with you because I was looking for some long term relationship with a total gentleman. I came home with you because I wanted to have drunken one night sex with you. You're the one who brought out this whole red notebook of fucken expectations and rules and stuff not me. You chose to show me that room of yours and you chose me for your sub. I didn't ask you for a damn thing. All I wanted to know was your legs and what was between them. You're body doesn't require hearts and flowers or a boyfriend. It also doesn't require breakfast the morning after or even a "hello". You obviously are tired of the whole "fuck them and leave them" routine or you wouldn't have cuddled up to me and held me all night long."