“You’ll never find a team who can double team like Wilder and Dawson!” Corey nearly whooped in celebration. “And here comes the third member of their team. How good of Y/N, keeping backstage and out of trouble. Very unlike her, but it paid off.”
You rolled into the ring and jumped into the first open airs you saw. They happened to be Scott’s. “You did it!”
“That we did.” The gleam to kiss you was in his eyes. But it wasn’t something he could do. The shine shifted into a promise to be fulfilled at a later time. “How’d backstage go?”
“Well… let’s just say we should pack quickly. Hmm?”
To emphasize your point, AJ Styles came stumbling down the ramp. He took one look at the crumpled forms of Gallows and Anderson and his earlier anger at you was renewed.
“Time to go.” You grabbed your title, won earlier that night from Becky, and helped the guys grab their new tag titles, and joined them in the sprint out of the arena. Not the victory celebration you all hoped for, but eh. It’s wrestling. Nothing is simple.
The hotel bed creaked as the three of you landed on the king-sized spread. Dash immediately rolled over the top of you and hungrily kissed across your face. Sucked on the side of your neck. Moaned against your skin and explored your trapped body underneath his. Easily he rolled you onto your side so Scott could do the same thing at your back.
“Look at our girl, Scott. All covered in gold.” His hand traveled up under your shirt. “She put on quite the opening match.”
Scott nipped at the top of your spine, making you gasp. “That she did. And then she took care of that little problem of ours. Such a good girl.”
You couldn’t breathe in the best way possible. Within minutes your clothes were gone and the three titles were laid side-by-side on the table. Dash was leaned back against the headboard, holding your back tightly against his chest. His hands kneaded your breasts. Pinched your nipples. And his lips continued to work at the hickies started by Scott. It was in steamy moments like this where you never knew what to do with your hands. Should you rest them over Dash’s? Guiding him to heighten your pleasure? Or should you rest your hands on Scott’s head? As for Scott, he was stretched out across the bed. He mouthed at your thigh, then went back to eating you out.
So many hands. Yours. Theirs. Stroking. Squeezing. Spreading fingerprints like blueberry stains. Your thighs and hip would be nearly polka-dot in the morning. And so would they.
After the first time your body went rigid, the guys spun you around. Your back to Scott’s front, and you facing Dash. Both of them steadied you as Everyone moved up to their knees. Then they guided you back onto Scott’s cock. You reached out, gently swirling your thumb over his head until you were rewarded with a pearl of precum. You bit your lip.
“Still hungry for a challenge, boys?” you murmured. “Who cums first? Who’s better at making the others cum?”
Scott’s first thrust forced your eyes to flutter. You could feel their smirks.
You always came first. This time would be no different.
Each thrust from behind sent your grip forward. From there, you tightened your grips: hand and inner. They both groaned. Though you couldn’t see it, you knew what Scott’s face looked like. Eyes crossed. Forehead beginning to turn red. Mouth open to pant against the back of your neck. Dash in front of you was equally disheveled. Eyes glazed over. Mouth gasping and head lolling back and forth under your ministrations. But all the while they had their grip on you. Turning you into a moaning, whining mess.
There it was. The growing pleasure. That burn.
“She’s close, Dash.”
“I see her. Keep going.”
They did, continuing to tease your breasts, your clit, every sensitive place on your body they had discovered together.
With a clipped cry, your body seized again. Your release inspired theirs. Scott filled you, and Dash painted your hand and stomach. You fell into one another, bodies sticking together in that way. Somewhere between gross… and closest you could get to each other without trading skin. And still, they needed to feel you. Touching over the marks they made. Pressing their lips to the places they hadn’t yet. And claiming their second victory of the night.
“L- look who came first.”
“Like she always does.”
You groaned and buried your head into the chest in front of you.
“Oh, look at her… she’s blushing.”
Wriggling yourself from between them took some effort. You made it to the table and stroked over the titles. But something else was calling your name.
“Come on, boys. Let’s get cleaned up.” You looked at them over your shoulder. “Unless you don’t want to help me lather up.”
They were out of bed in a breath.