"Damn! Damn! Damn!" Jerry's gruff voice filled the motorhome. "You've got a fucking hard head, Dan!"
Jerry struggled to get the strapped down ice bag over his swollen left thumb but it kept going too high up his arm or falling off his hand.
"Well, hell, little brother," was Dan's response. "If you'd ever learn to pull your punches for real like we practiced all week, you wouldn't even know about it."
"Yeah, well, I thought you were going to duck a little."
"Now you know that's not what we practiced." Dan guffawed loudly from the front passenger seat, where Kara's long blonde hair kept getting into his way. But it didn't bother him enough to keep her from bobbing up and down on his hard member.
The four professional wrestlers had piled into their RV at the back of The Cow Palace just a few minutes earlier, their four luscious companions following close behind. It was nearly two hours after the last event on the night's card where all four of them had been involved one way or another, although Brad and Tim had been matched in a tag team match against guys outside of their little group — friends, yes, but not traveling companions.
They had taken their time getting showered and dressed, tending the usual wounds that come from putting on such a physically demanding show. Seldom did the injuries come from something an opponent did to them but it was not unusual to hurt oneself in the commission of a planned move, because they did expend a lot of energy and there were a lot of acrobatics involved. If they had not been in good physical condition, there is no way they would have survived in their chosen profession.
Dan swiveled his captain's chair to look at the guys in the second set of chairs. Jerry was on the left holding a completely naked Liz on his lap; although he couldn't see it, Dan knew that Jerry's cock was buried in Liz's wet twat. She had her eyes closed, deep in lascivious thought as she rocked her bottom on Jerry's crotch. Jerry's right hand held onto her right breast while he kept trying to balance the ice bag on his left.
Brad was in the right hand rear seat. Annie was sitting on his lap, her legs folded up beside his and Dan could see Brad's big dong disappearing up into her pussy. However she was content to lay on his chest and rest, occasionally squeezing her buttocks to feel Brad's intruder. With his bare legs stretched out in front of him, Brad wiggled back and forth, holding the long-haired curvy brunette beauty on his lap.
Tim was tonight's first driver, although they made it a practice to switch out every couple of hours so nobody got too tired... and so everybody could sample the wares of their sexy little companions. As the driver, that meant that Ginny, the smallest of the four women, had already squeezed her lush little body into the space between the driver's seat and the instrument panel and was lavishing Tim's swollen member with her tongue. Dan thought it was very erotic to watch Ginny's red head bobbing under the oversized steering wheel.
All four of the women who chose to travel with them, from Annie who had been with the group just seven months, to Liz who had been with them for over two years, acted as "manager" for one of the wrestlers: Liz for Brad, Kara for Jerry, Ginny for Dan, and Annie for Tim. That really didn't mean much except for a lot of posturing and showing off their feminine delights to the hoots and hollers of the appreciative crowd. Because the women drew fans of their own, the promoters increased the paychecks of the wrestlers who in turn split with the women.
These men were not in the upper echelon of professional wrestling, the World Wrestling Federation or one of their frequently televised counterparts. They compared themselves to baseball's Triple A leagues, just a step below the majors. They provided their own transportation, albeit this group shared a very plush motorhome with their lady friends.
They visited a different city — not the biggest cities, but still large, well-known places, like Waco and Sherman-Dennison and Wichita Falls. They would go to Lubbock, Odessa, San Angelo and Austin before starting the loop all over again. When they had made the rounds often enough, the promoters would move them to another area within other states and they would start new loops. When they finally made the rounds of all the loops available, they would change their shtick and start over. There was always a demand, always a nice payday and the men enjoyed their lives.
Their fans, of course, would have been horrified to know that the men traveled together and were actually friends... the very best of friends. They wanted to believe the hype, all the gruff words that said that these men were mortal enemies. The so-called sport would never draw the avid crowds that came faithfully if they knew the truth about the combatants.
At 1:13 in the morning, Jerry pulled into a roadside park — on these old two lane highways so far from the interstates, they didn't have the nice rest areas with restrooms and vending machines that you found on the interstate highways. They had picnic tables and a little parking space and a few barrels for trash; that was it. No restrooms, usually no running water.
It didn't matter. The RV carried everything the group needed. While they were stopped, everyone got up to stretch their legs, grab something cold to drink from the fridge, one of the sandwiches they'd made the night before or a bag of chips. Some of them went back to the restroom to take a leak — no one ever bothered to close the door anymore. When everyone was ready, they played fruit basket turnover, with Brad driving. This time Ginny sat on his lap, his latest erection deep into her pussy, and she steered while he worked the pedals. That was the nice thing about the deep-cushioned captain's chairs: big enough for two people!
The others picked new partners and settled in: Annie was riding Jerry's flagpole doggy style, as Liz was doing to Dan, while Kara lay on Tim's chest and rode cowgirl style. Another two hour stint would put them behind South Plains Coliseum in Lubbock. Since they had just restocked the RV two days before, they would have all afternoon to sleep... or fuck.
By the time they parked at 3:38 in the morning, everyone was getting tired. The sleeping assignments were rotated a week at a time so no one could complain about their accommodations. This week Dan got the luxury of the big bed in back. Brad had the next best, the wide single along the side opposite the bathroom. Tim had an equally good spot, the fold down made over the table and two benches that made a wide bed. Jerry had the one the guys least liked, the front pull-down, only because it required climbing up to get to and there was not as much room to fuck as the other beds. Usually the two there wound up doing a on-their-side front-to-back fuck... which sure as hell beat getting no pussy at all! The men let the women work out their own rotation and never asked how it worked. They just knew that they got a different woman every night for four nights and it never got old or repetitive.
Everyone was asleep by six o'clock, just as the sun was rising over the caprock. With the blackout curtains drawn, the interior was dark enough that the sunlight didn't bother anyone and the air conditioner kept the interior nice and comfy.
At four that afternoon, the group came awake to the delicious smell of scrambled eggs with sauteed onions and mushrooms, slabs of country cured ham, toast and coffee. Liz and Kara were the breakfast cooks and had everything ready by the time the guys had splashed cold water on their faces and made up the beds to provide seating arrangements again.
After the meal, the guys washed the dishes while the women began taking showers. Some watched TV while others read, killing time until their curtain calls would begin at eight o'clock. By seven, everyone began getting into their own costume.
All the women wore the skimpiest of outfits, with short shorts that left at least part of their buttocks showing, and small bras or specially cut tops that showed a lot of tit. All of them were decorated with masses of shiny, sparkling material or sequins that shone like diamonds. Gaudy fake jewelry covered fingers and necklines and even toes. In short, they all four looked like a million dollars and made every red-blooded male in the arena want to screw them.
The men's costumes were definitely choreographed to agree with their character, and changed from city to city, or as time passed, by the changing of their characters. Hightop boots were a requirement of the trade to protect ankles — a bad sprain could keep a wrestler from working for weeks. Tight shorts served a two-fold purpose: they kept the opponent from grabbing the shorts to use for leverage (wink, wink) and they highlighted the ol' family jewels, which delighted their thousands of female fans. All four of the men started with some kind of gaudy T-shirt but shed them upon entering the ring each night; Dan sometimes used the Hulk Hogan approach of litterally ripping his off. Jerry used wrist cuffs just for show, while Tim and Brad both wore temporary tattoos, although they only had to be applied once every couple of weeks.
Staying out of the line of sight of fans, they all migrated to the dressing rooms. Then one at a time, the men swaggered out to the ring with his manager showing her stuff. Since Jerry was paired against another opponent, he met and talked with the wrestler before their bout and explained his problem; they agreed to stay away from anything that would require Jerry to use that injured thumb. He had it taped to his fingers so he could use the hand if it didn't require clamping the thumb onto anything.