Alexa Bliss

As a professional wrestler, your physical appearance was eclipsed in importance only by your skill as a performer. For that reason, you had always made a point to look as good (or at least as tough) as you possibly could. Ever since you had put in so many hours of hard work to shed pounds and build muscle, transforming your “average Joe” body into a chiseled masterpiece, you have never been a slouch when it came to the fairer sex. But as you gazed into the eyes of “Little Miss Bliss” you knew you were out of your depth.

Alexa was an ice-princess, a queen-bee. She had the body and the charisma to make just about anyone do her bidding and she knew it. Sensing a trap you had no intention of escaping, you said “Hey Alexa, what can I do for you?” in the suavest manner you could muster.

Alexa Bliss wiped a stray tendril of blonde hair out of her face and laughing, placed her tiny hand on your upper thigh. It lingered there as she breathed, “Why thank you, [ring name]. I’m sure I could find SOMEWAY you could show me how badly you want to get off... on the right foot.”

You were now just shy of fully erect. Knowing that it was highly unlikely that Bliss was unaware of this fact you felt the warm, velvet-smooth walls of social intrigue close like vice grips around you. Finding yourself wishing you were merely trapped in Rusev’s Accolade, Alexa batted her eyes and slid a finger down the hollow of her throat and hooked it into the cleavage overflowing her towel wrap. Giving your thigh a firm yet gentle squeeze, she murmured, “Would you be interested in my offer?”