#I love to watch a soft wholesome woman get chewed up and spit back out by the horrors of the world

[arimabari]

turns out we can’t just all get along after all

[we-work-hard]

Room 117

Pairing: AJ Styles x Shane McMahon (younger AJ, current-day Shane)

Summary: Some guy called Shane checks into a rundown motel in the middle of nowhere early one morning. He gets a visitor...

Notes: Young AJ training for CWF matches on YouTube inspired this - he's so cute and lithe and luscious. Also, Shane’s *heart eyes* on Talking Smack (RIP) whenever he looked at AJ sure didn’t hurt (neither did thirsting over Twinky AJ with @llowkeys – ~love you, girl~)

Warnings: Adultery, a slight little tiny bit of Daddy Kink, mention of religion, voyeurism.

Cutie-pie Twink AJ 

Daddy Shane

Room 117

“Were these the towels for 117?”

I roll my eyes up from my book to stare Nate down.

“Uh, I guess.”

“When why the fuck are they still here?”

“...Because you fucking work here and I don’t?”

“Yeah, you don’t work here, but I let you come over and cram for your finals in MY office-”

“Nate-”

“I asked you to do ONE thing to help me out, Marianne- why didn’t you tell me before I let the room?!”

“Okay! Jesus, shut up – I’ll take Mr Big Stuff the towels already!”

“Goddammit, lower your voice!” Nate hissed, as if the guy could hear us from a floor up. Christ.

“Room 117-”

“I’ve got it!”

I grabbed the pile of scratchy towels out of his hands and stomped out of my hotshot Night-Supervisor-Brother’s ‘office’, wishing I’d tried to study through the night at home instead. Office? More like ‘front desk of a rundown Super 8, out in the middle of nowhere’. Servicing probably five guests per night, at the most. Usually truckers. Or creeps.

Not this 117, though. He’d checked in about an hour ago while I was sat behind the desk with Nate, who’d been blowing bits of chewed up flyers at me through a straw while I tried to read. Even douchebag Nate – who claims to have seen everything there is to see while working the early morning shift - looked taken aback by this guy walking into such a shitty place at 2pm to get a room.

As I take the stairs outside to the first floor, I’m a little nervous about having to wake 117 up to hand over these crappy towels. Though he doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who’d get angry or mean.

Mr Shane Jones is the name he gave. Short silver hair, big brown doe eyes, and olive skin. Totally daddyish, if you’re into that stuff, and really, really polite. Gentlemanly, even. It’s like he somehow got lost on the way to a big business meeting in New York and ended up in the middle of Bumfuck, Texas. He’d arrived by cab with no luggage, paid for his room in cash – a pic of his pretty wife and kids on show when he’d opened his wallet. He has no fucking business staying in a place like this. With that shiny suit jacket, and the tight jeans, and the flashy sneakers? Who the fuck is this guy?

I mean, he looked kinda familiar, which is weird, because there’s no way I would have run into him before tonight.

I’d interrupted him paying for the room to ask if he was lost – to which Nate told me to “Shut the fuck up” under his breath – but Mr Jones’d just laughed and shaken his head, before bidding me and my brother a good night, saluting us with the keycard as he left with a sleepy smile.

Nate figured someone with money like that, clearly out of town, might be here to deal. Or to bring back a girl – or a group of girls – from the strip club not far from here as a scummy treat for himself. Guys come here to do that shit all the time, Nate says. I figured he was too wholesome looking for that. Nate told me I’m naive as fuck about what goes on at this time of night, and who does it. Whatever. I don’t believe daddyish 117 with the gold wedding band would do that.

I walk along the gritty windows and rusted railings of the first floor, counting down the room numbers in my head as I approach 117. Huh – Shane still has his light on. A glow spills out from his window onto the balcony – I can see the curtain inside has rucked-up by the bottom left hand corner of the window, furthest from the door. The little bit of light cuts in and out as it hits me at hip level. He must be walking around in there.

Okay, so, I can knock on his door, and give him the towels...

...unless he’s just showered, and is stomping around the room with his dick swinging around, looking for what I’ve got under my arm...

I pause and think. He won’t notice me checking if I bend down to look through the window real quick... And, I don’t mindseeing some daddy-dick tonight, if it happens to be swinging around in there. I’m a grown-ass woman (sort of). His wife won’t know I saw it. Plus, I’m nosy as fuck about what he’s up to. I quietly drop to my knees and peek through the curtain, holding the towels across my lap so they don’t get on the dirty floor. I figure he doesn’t deserve dirty towels, poor guy – he’ll probably already be getting some contagious skin disease from the sheets.

Shane’s not alone in there. He’s talking to someone.

I sit back on my heels, surprised, then look back – who has he got in there with him?

***

I nosily settle in to figure out what’s going on, at this time in the morning. Shane – still in the clothes he’d arrived in, and wide awake – has stopped to stand in front of the bed with his back to me slightly, and he’s with a younger man, way younger – early twenties, I think – who’s definitely not rich.

This one is dressed like the young guys who cut the lawns at my college: loose, worn jeans, black t-shirt with the sleeves cut off. He looks like cute local trash, who probably pumps weights with his equally-dumb friends at the Y, and yells at girls from his beat-up truck. He’s kinda short – shorter than Shane by about five inches - but built, with smooth tanned skin, short brown hair. A cute snub nose and pouty lips, light blue eyes. Hoop earrings pierce both lobes.

Shane is trying to push money into his chest, urging him to take it. I’m legit disappointed – is this guy dropping off drugs? Is this what Shane travels out to the sticks for, in shitty motels? But the younger guy is shaking his head, and pushing the money away, looking down and sighing, frustrated.

Not enough?

It’s not drugs.

Maybe it’s sex.

Family man Shane, travelling here tonight to order-in some rough trade... ? The young guy sure is sweet, in a backwoods redneck way... maybe Shane likes that, too. I feel myself flush in embarrassment about what could be about to happen – I should probably leave these towels on the doorstep and let the ‘transaction’ run its course, if that’s what’s taking place...    

But then I see the younger guy smile – a cute, crooked smile – and step closer, taking Shane’s left hand to place on his own face. He rubs into Shane’s palm with his eyes closed, like a cat. Shane softly chuckles at that, and the boy opens his eyes to grin back at him playfully, but a little wistful too. Oh my... they love each other, just a little?

I watch Shane stroke at the boy’s mouth with his thumb, hesitantly at first, until it seems the soft touching isn’t enough for him. He pulls the guy in and kisses him; the cash he’d tried to give falls to the floor, forgotten.

How do they know each other; how did they meet? Does Shane’s wife have any idea? Curious and fascinated, I can't help but lean in closer to watch them together through the window. They don’t notice me. All they care about is touching each other.

I’m frozen into watching everything that happens between them in that room.

***

Shane is whispering fervently to the younger man between longing kisses, lost in passion for the boy who’s come to meet him. In return, he nuzzles into Shane’s mouth and pulls at the collar of his shirt, his brows furrowed cutely in desperation. I notice that his wrists are strapped up with white tape, like he’s just got back from lifting the weights that keep his arms so thick, and his shoulders rounded with muscle. He looks sweated out under his rumpled clothes already, too, like he hasn’t had time to shower after a workout.  

The back of his shirt says ‘AJ’ in big gold letters – and I don’t know who would wear a shirt with their own name on it... But AJ is his name. It’s what Shane mouths over and over again each time their lips pull apart: “AJ”.

AJ sways forward and pushes his tongue further into Shane’s open mouth, before pulling back to lap at his lips, hands now in Shane’s silvering hair to keep his mouth on his. I can faintly hear Shane growl as he presses a thumb into the soft skin of AJ’s throat at the feel of his tongue, as the touching unexpectedly turns rough; possessive.

Shane forces AJ down onto the bed with a grunt, yanking his t-shirt up to scramble at the buckle of the younger man’s leather belt, then the metal button, and zipper of his jeans. AJ tries to pull his shirt off all the way, enthusiastic and happy to get naked. His belly button winks as the smooth muscle of his midriff flexes, but Shane slaps his hands back and orders him to leave the shirt on. Not yet. Something changes in AJ’s eyes, like a switch flips. He looks at Shane like he wants to do whatever he’s told tonight. Anything, if it’s asked of him. It makes my legs clench together at how hot that thought is.  

Shane nods at him, eyes fiery and firm, and goes back to roughly tugging the boy’s jeans down – he’s wearing tight black and white satin shorts under his pants, also with ‘AJ’ written on the side. Is the luscious guy Shane’s tearing into working as a stripper? But then I see the kneepads, and shin guards strapped to his thick calves (which stay on after the jeans are pulled down over them and off). I figure it out when I see the large gold crucifix spill out from under AJ’s shirt.

Big gold crosses next to the logo – CWF. The flyers Nate had been tearing up in reception to chew up and spit at me. Christian Wrestling Federation.

He’s a wrestler! And a good Southern Christian wrestler, at that. Who’s being roughly stripped of his ring gear by a married man at least 20 years older than him in a motel room right now.

AJ warily grabs the cross in his palm to hide it from Shane, as though he’s ashamed of what they’re doing while he wears it. But the sight of the crucifix seems to turn Shane on even further – he pulls AJ up by the chain and jams his tongue into the boy’s mouth, forcing his jaw wide open to accommodate him. He grips the waistband of AJ’s lycra shorts and pulls them down with no care to AJ’s comfort, taking a black jockstrap with them, over the kneepads, down past the shin guards and off. AJ gasps and moans at the feeling of his exposure.

AJ’s so aroused after the rough treatment and tongue-filled kisses that his thick dick is leaking a clear slick over his belly. A drop drips slowly down the shaft to seep into the dark pelt at the base of his cock. Shane pushes AJ to the bed by his wrists to stare down at his dick with hunger. The intense focus makes AJ writhe against the bed in embarrassment, his chest flushing red under the pulled up shirt. He whines in his throat.

“Shhh, baby. It’s okay,” Shane murmurs while letting go of AJ’s wrists. He gently rubs his fingers along AJ’s Adonis belt and through the hair of his crotch, making him undulate and moan Shane’s name almost sorrowfully.

“I want you to feel good – do you feel good?” his older lover asks soothingly, swiping up a thumbful of the liquid leaking from the head of AJ’s cock. It makes AJ jerk with a moan – Shane rubs the creamy fluid onto the pads of his own fingers. “So good...” he says, pushing the fingers through AJ’s lips, and hooking them into his mouth. AJ’s hips come off the bed in alarm, but more fluid leaks from his penis; I see it get even stiffer. He likes this.

“Aww, I know that tastes good, baby,” he says to AJ’s muffled affirmation, “but I’ve got something you like even better,” he promises, pulling his saliva-covered fingers out of AJ’s slack mouth to undo his own belt and zipper.

So far Shane’s remained fully-clothed, and even now only pulls his underwear down to take his cock out over his undone fly, getting on the bed on his knees by AJ’s face. He grasps AJ up slightly by the neck, gently this time, to bring his face closer to his crotch. AJ struggles to push himself where Shane wants him, thrilling at getting what he came here for. He gladly opens his mouth for Shane, bobbing his lips onto the cock and grasping the base in his fist. The back of his head is supported by Shane’s thigh while he works up and down, Shane stroking the hair back from his forehead and breathing shakily, almost as if he’s indulging AJ by letting him do this to him.  

AJ’s t-shirt has steadily worked its way up to bunch under his armpits, and it’s damp with his sweat. Shane rubs down the boy’s pecs and stomach, and AJ moans around the thick cock nudging at the back of his throat and stretching his lips open, sucking it harder with his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure and concentration. Shane shifts to move his hand further down AJ’s body. But to my surprise, he bypasses his crotch entirely.

Instead, his fingers sink into the meat of AJ’s thigh, grabbing to tug it up towards him, pulling the young man’s legs open. AJ is lapping his tongue at the thick pink head in front of him, but stops to look at what Shane’s doing with hazy unfocused eyes. His head is pushed back onto Shane’s dick with a grunt and a quick squeeze to the back of his neck.

While AJ continues to suck, Shane breathes hard and reaches to rub between his legs; the firm-looking flesh of his inner thighs, and the soft skin behind his balls, which makes AJ’s body jump. Shane rubs harder, and AJ’s legs quickly close around his hand in reflex.  

***

AJ might not be ready for this – and who knows how far they’ve gone before now – but Shane seems to have decided what he wants from AJ tonight. He pulls his hand out from between AJ’s legs and slaps one of them, lightly.

“Open your legs for me, baby – let me touch.”

AJ keens in response. He pulls his legs open slowly, but he shakes. He’s pushed his face in towards Shane’s groin for comfort, holding Shane’s cock against this cheek. He’s biting his own lips.

His body shakes more and his chest heaves as Shane’s fingers explore between his legs and back – it’s like he’s holding his body stiff to keep his own legs apart. I can see Shane’s fingers stroke past the base of his penis, down past his balls, back to the softness of AJ’s perineum – he pushes his fingers up against the skin and massages it, which makes AJ moan and give a slow lick to the cock pressed against his face, unthinkingly. Finally, Shane’s fingers make it to the furled skin of AJ’s opening, which he lightly taps – AJ shudders with shame at being touched there. A dark and wanting smile flutters across Shane’s face.

He growls and pushes AJ off his lap and over onto his stomach roughly, pulling his hips up and tugging the thighs apart – he slaps AJ to keep them like that. I see AJ grab a pillow and push his face down into it, wracking with sobs and gasps at this humiliation Shane is putting him through. Shane crawls further down AJ's body and lowers his head to lick and suck the skin between AJ’s legs, holding his hips, before digging his tongue into him, then smoothing it out and over AJ’s entrance; holding the cheeks apart while AJ tries to writhe away from his wet tongue.

I’m shocked at seeing this, but still can’t look away. AJ’s back undulates as Shane grasps and slaps him over and over while he kisses and licks, opening him up, tearing cries and shudders out of the man under him.

Each time AJ pushes into the bed and away from Shane’s mouth, or struggles from side to side in a bid to get away from his tongue, Shane slaps one of the thighs under him and pulls them further apart to dig in deeper. AJ’s skin is flushed and slick with sweat, his black t-shirt still wrenched up under his arms, sticking to him. I can see his hands clenching into the pillow he’s hiding his face in, fingers opening and closing as Shane moves his tongue in and out of his young tight body.

Shane works in earnest to open him up, and AJ’s hips start to move faster down into the bed with urgency, fucking the bed while Shane tongue-fucks his hole. At this, Shane quickly drags himself away and hits AJ one more time across his thighs, hard. I can faintly hear AJ cry out and see him jolt as a deep red hand print spreads angrily across his skin.  

I’m panicked at what I’m seeing, but Shane pulls him over onto his back and firmly rubs up and down AJ’s body, murmuring passionate sweetnesses to him, kissing away the tears that streak AJ’s face. AJ clings to him; dick still stiff with arousal, redder at the tip. He’s been leaking down onto the duvet; his upper thighs, hips and belly are smeared with his own pre-cum, and his inner thighs are shiny with Shane’s saliva, which Shane touches with his fingers. AJ forces the hand further between his legs and back, and Shane looks at him in question.

“Touch me,” AJ throatily croaks out, squeezing his eyes closed in shame at what he wants so badly.

“Yeah,” he hisses as Shane pushes fingers against his opening, hard.

“Tell me, AJ.”

“I want it, Shane. Want your thick dick in me, not just in my mouth this time.”

He looks up at his older lover like his own words about the sex they’re going to have are turning him on even more. It has the same effect on Shane.

“You want me to fuck you tonight, AJ?” he breathes over AJ’s mouth, sucking his full lower lip and biting it when AJ moans.

AJ turns his head to the side with a grimace at the naughtiness he’s about to let out.

“Yes please, Daddy,” he forces out as I gasp at his words, “I want you to fuck me tonight.”

...