Nick, a pro wrestling fan

This is just for fun and mostly for my own amusement and entertainment. A little something on the side just for me.

"Oh my god... is that a boner?"

"W-wha? No, no, it's a-"

"That's so fucking gross, dude..." The woman had worn a fake smile the entire time they met, barely concealing the contempt shining in her eyes, the annoyance. The disgust. Now, all of that was laced through her voice, hard on her face. He withered before it, stammering and panicking. Trying to come up with any sort of explanation, but even he knew he had already lost.

"I am so out of her... Jesus Christ! Getting hard just from seeing a woman in real life? You're so pathetic. This is why I don't meet fanboys..."

She left in a huff, so quick he couldn't respond. And he was left alone with his shame.

Nick Bird would consider himself a normal guy. Just an average, everyday person trying his hardest to get through life. He had friends and hobbies and a cat, dated on occasion, and dealt with bills and every other issue normal people did. One of his may interests was professional wrestling, and with that, came his one (in his mind) odd obsession: he loved the woman of wrestling. They were his celebrity crushes, his fantasies, his idols. His frequent masturbatory dreams. They were beautiful and stylish and strong and Nick absolutely loved them.

So, when a friend of his who worked for live entertainment and convention services said he could get him a one-on-one meeting with Sasha Banks, one of his favourites of his wrestling crushes, Nick was over the moon. He could hardly sleep the night before he was so excited!

And yeah, from the start, Nick could sense the hostility in the air. Sense that Sasha was only doing this as a favour and was counting down the minutes until she was free from her obligation, but even he couldn't believe what a fool he made of himself! Maybe he should have jerked it before leaving his apartment this morning. Maybe he should have worn different pants or boxers. Maybe maybe maybe...

He just couldn't help it though! She was so beautiful with her mocha skin and her dark blue hair, her lithe, athletic body. Sharp, bright eyes, plush lips. She even smelled good, too! Just thinking about her heavenly body and the delightful scent of dark spices and wood that orbited invisibly about her... shit, he was hard again...

Maybe he was gross and pathetic.

Slinking away out of shame and anger, Nick didn't even say anything to his friend or the others who helped set this up. He had wanted to do something with friends tonight, but now he just wanted to hide away from the world, to steam in his own failures. He stomped his way back home, a part of him knowing he was just going to stew in these emotions all night, feel progressively worse and worse, haunted by it. That bottling this incident up wouldn't do him any good.

So, another part of him the best way to deal with it would be to drown half of those feeling in booze, and release the other half through his cock.

"Oh, yeah, yeah... you fucking bitch, Sasha! We both know you wanted this!" Nick grunted, eyes darting across his computer screen, while one hand pumped at the fleshlight encasing his average cock. With some minor skills in photo shop, Nick occasionally made fakes of his wrestling crushes, pasting their faces onto the bodies of various models and porn stars. He never shared them, they were meant for his eyes only, and right now, they were his release: his various shoddy fakes of Sasha Banks, fake photos smiling flatly at him while flashing her tits or pussy.

Normally, this would be enough for Nick to cum and achieve the nirvana-like high of the post-orgasm period. But tonight, Nick could only see the look of repulsion on Sasha's face - in his mind's eye, on the faces of the various photos. And he could only hear her disparaging insults on repeat.

"God, you stupid - ugh, fuck me..." Letting out a deflating sigh, Nick pushed away from his computer. Blue-balled, he had failed to pump himself to completion, and even then, he figured he would find much less satisfaction than he normally would. Much as he wanted to, his heart wasn't in it tonight. Grumbling to himself for a minute or two after, he pulled the masturbation aid off his cock, freeing it with a wet POP, cleaning things up, and then stumbling into his kitchenette.

If he couldn't find happiness in stroking his cock, he could at least get drunk and forget things for a few hours.

Scouring through his fridge and cabinets, thirsty but indecisive, Nick came across a tall, thin glass bottle. Dark purple glass that held a so-dark-it-was-almost-black liquid in it, only visible if held up to a light. A large, spherical cork sat atop the bottle, ostentatiously and absurdly large for the size of the bottle. It took Nick a moment to remember where and what this was. A Christmas gift from a friend, not the main gift but a random extra, bought at the last minute because it looked cool and kooky and was - quote, unquote - perfect for him.

With a shrug, Nick's curiosity won out. If this mystery liquid was bad, then it still wouldn't be the worst thing that happened to him.

Using a knife for leverage, Nick popped the stopper.

Whatever liquid that was inside shot out like a rocket, exploding upward and landing on Nick's floor. He shouted in shock, gaping at the puddle of black liquid... no. No, it wasn't liquid. It seemed to have the consistency of slime or gel, thick and gooey and viscous.

And then it began to grow.

In a heartbeat, the puddle of slime no wider than his hand, began to rise up and expand, silently taking shape. A few more second past and, before Nick could even fully react, the pile of slime had changed into a woman.

Beautiful yet alien, the woman had black hair that was thick and oily, looking less like a collection of singular strands and more like a puddle of oil sculpted to resemble hair. He skin was the same shade of purple as the bottle she had been contained in, two massive breasts swinging freely, capped with bright blue nipples, pierced with heavy iron rings. Her waist descended into a what was almost a tail - a long, thick rope of slime, fitting as she had risen from the gooey pool.

"I haven't even started drinking tonight..." Nick muttered to himself, unsure of what was happening or how to react. Maybe this had all been a dream. Maybe he hadn't made an ass out of himself in front of an unobtainable crush...

Bright eyes alighted on Nick and sparkled with joy, painted lips curling into a devoted smile.

"Greetings, oh Master!" The purple woman, the strange entity, cheered in a high, sweet voice. "I am R'rana, genie of the lamp, here to grant you three wishes!"

Nick's jaw went slack.

Genie? Wishes? Genie? Wishes!?

What in the world was happening.

The girl, the genie, R'rana only giggled at his thunderstruck response. "Worry not, oh Master dearest. This not a dream or hallucination, but for true and real. Most mortals I have met do not believe me at first, but it is. I am here to grant your heart's desire, whatever you so wish. Though, I am afraid, with such power does come restrictions.

"First: you will receive three wishes. No more, no less.

"Second: your wishes cannot affect or alter myself or any other genie.

"Third: your wishes cannot affect my home reality, nor can you access it or any knowledge about it. My home plane is entirely off limits.

"Fourth: My powers cannot cross the sacred boundary of life and . No immortality, no killing, no resurrections, and nothing in between.

"And finally: upon granting your third and final wish, I shall immediately vanish from this reality and shall reappear elsewhere in the infinite cosmos. The odds that you meet me again will be so infinitesimal as to approach absolute zero, so choose wisely, and it is a pleasure to serve you while it lasts."

R'rana shut her eyes and bowed. "So, what will your first wish be, oh Master most wonderful?"

Nick's head swam. Brain fried, he found a bottle of rum and snatched it, taking a long swig. "I think I need a drink first..."