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Atara Raven · (02-21-2020)

Across Fuzz's chest layed the slender and bent arm of Atara Themis, the abundance of her mocha colored hair splayed the width of his torso as she rested her head cheek first atop his chest. Separated from his skin by the flat of her own hand, it was from behind shut eyes that Atara listened silently to Fuzz's breath while the rise and fall of his ribcage soothed her like rocking a baby. In her bed, their naked bodies were silhouetted by white sheets and provided all the modesty they needed in the privacy of Atara's room. Still, under the covers a single one of her legs perched atop him, the softness of an inner thigh flirted with the vicinity of the champions...ya know.

They were but two lovers, in the physical sense, sharing a brief respite from training and indulging in the solitude of silence and security of the walls around them. No prying eyes, no fans, no enemies, no absurd pin attempts, no crazed sexually oppressed, regressed, digressed, deviants. No friends, no family...just them.

It was almost perfect, except that even in all of this with her eyes closed, body covered and being shut off from the world, Atara still felt eyes on her. Given her last few weeks instinct had become to panic and flight mode was engaged and she felt perhaps her tenseness was sensed because as soon that feeling washed over her an arm wrapped itself around her shoulders and pulled her snug.

"I got you, relax."

She smiled. As much as Atara had heard Fuzz talk, all the promos she had scene, hearing that Midwestern accent up close and in person was foreign and bemusing to her ears. Still, there was a certain finality in his tone she found reassuring. She tilted her chin up, opened her eyes and discovered the source of her unease was the same thing that had cured it.

"Pictures last longer Dove," she retorted playfully.

She watched as his lips crept to the corner of side of his mouth shaping a smug and sly grin only Fuzz could do."Keep it real...dove. Cameras don't do you justice." Smooth, but still he was answered in kind by a concise huff and sarcastic eye roll.

"Triteness doesn't suit you. Just tell me I'm pretty."

"Only if you want me to."

Atara shook her head softly while rolling here eyes once more. Lifting her upper half up, she slithered the length Fuzz's chest stopping short of his face. She looked at him, her expression full of mischief. "I have a better idea....why don't you kiss me where I'm pretty."

A FEW MOMENTS LATER

"Shawn..."

Spoken in sussuration, her voice coated heavy with euphoria, the man you call Fuzz coaxed his name from the living embodiment of Aphrodite. The warmth of his breath against the warmth of her caused her pulse to hasten, and blood rushed to the honeypot between her thighs. The caress of his hands, everywhere they touched, seemingly done with purpose and pleasurable intent was her reward for the nectar offered and the more he maneuvered around her body, with each placement of a kiss, a hand.. .a finger, the more delicious her ambrosia became and she wanted him to devour all of it that he could.

"...Shawn..."

Atara looked down the length of her naked form, her gaze trailing over her breast and south of the flat of her belly to be met in kind by the eyes of the X-treme champion. His hair tickled her inner thigh as they stopped in momentary pause, the briefest but most primal of smiles exchanged, it was long enough for her to catch her breathe and perhaps for him to do the same. Without warning her hips were lifted involuntarily but invitingly welcomed the kiss she expected.

"Shawn!"

Lost to the world, free of inhibition, Atara was firmly under the spell of persuasive Eros. Given to the whims of passion and physical desire, she unrepentantly let her body sashay with the ebb and flow of lust's savage tide. She was but a small vessel in this amorous ocean, riding it's waves like the goddess she espoused and Shawn the Poseidon guiding the current. A moan was illicited from her, from deep inside it erupted, unexpected, an explosion from the depths of her core. Another followed closely trailed by a final. The last however, its pitch was different and was trapped by a sudden tightness of her throat.

On top of her, inside her, the sudden pressure and fullness, Atara couldn't contain the yelp she emitted. Her eyes clinched shut, teeth clamped and she dug nails into the flexed flesh of Shane's back. More shock than pain, Atara nerves settled when the pace slowed. She hadn't had to say a thing. Whether it was observation or just experience, the consideration earned Shawn a level trust Atara had shared with few, she opened her eyes and brore sound could escape her again it was stifled by Shawn's mouth covering hers. His smell, his touch, his taste, Atara was experiencing it all, she wanted more, and she wanted to make it hers. Today, tomorrow, the day after...euphoria rippled from that immodestly damp and heat laden place between her legs with each undulation. Above her, taut arms bore his own weight and she felt him become more rigid, swollen, hard. She watched his face tightened, answered his quickened rhythm with her own, she heard his breath grow ragged and with one final vigorous thrust.......

Next Day...

XWF Superstar Atara Themis
[Image: IDdpcjy.jpg]

Keep It Real
On March Madness

No theatrics, no skimpy outfits, no long drawn out comparisons between myth, god and the present....maybe. No Aphrodite. Just Atara, just for March Madness, Just for the Crown. It's all business for the duration this of this PPV. Buckle those seatbelts Doves, we're following that When In Doubt, Flat Out philosophy Of Colin McCrae and going on a Subie ride that either sees us to a podium finish or a severe crash and burn anf itnall starts in...3

...2

...1

"Hello Doves." As mentioned, the XWF Universe tuning in to see their favorite divinity embodied in mortal flesh, well, they were in for a little surprise. She appeared, in terms of celebrity, normal. Not Madison Dyson's boomer squad normal. That mundane normal where a 10 was actually a 4 provided they had teeth. Attractive normal, where a 10 literally explodes heads off Incels named Gilly and mentally inept try hard Chads named Socio. The kind of normal Geri's boyfriend pays tribute to once she's passed out from...being Geri. The kind of normal Big D's wife wished she was so maybe her husband played with her instead of dolls.

Personally, I think there's some Peter Pan boyish charm to it D, but the crying yourself to sleep stuff. Not my level normal.

An attractive 10. To pull from some other roster members repertoire....

[Image: tenor.gif?itemid=13008078]

Pretty sure Thunder Knuckles is in the background of that somewhere. Not making it rain of course, thanks Vinny, but busting Jim Jimson & Barney Green caliber wierdo heads for trying to touch merchandise. Wrong bar Barn.

Atara normal, the kind of normal that bring aliens like Calvary and discount Bozo Panzersnatch to earth. Because really, they have presented no other logical reason to be here. We could go on, but the rest of the tournament participants really don't deserve the acknowledgment and there on the TV screen is the hot chick people were suppose to lose interest in months ago. Looking at you Maddy, don't let me down for the finals.

Prim and pugnacious Atara, infront of the camera, her look drifting from the lens to just off shot as she spoke. Obviously, she was being fed information from a stage hand because who the hell was Red X and why didn't they just give her the bye. Why not just let her fight the Subaru. Who didn't like seeing a girl sprawled across a car. Hollywood devoted montages to it, there was a whole magazine nich based on it. Viewers, attract them, that's normal.

"I've had a bad string of luck lately Doves and I'm not going to sugarcoat this for you, it's had me in a bad place. After Mercy, after Peter, and after Socio, I considered something Madison Dyson. said some months ago about females in the XWF, what she said about me personally, and I was on the verge of leaving."

"I love the story and character aspect of this business Doves, especially when it's compelling. When it's something I can connect and gravitate to. I have always been upfront about my desire for the adulation that comes with being in the spotlight. It's never been about spreading an ideology, climbing a leader board, padding a win loss record or filling my bank account. I told you day one, adore me. Revere me. Worship me. I want to transcend the typical XWF storyline and turn into the very thing that make myths endure the ages. I'm an attention whore of the highest caliber and I thought I was willing to do most anything to get it.

But I was wrong. There are people here who terrify me. People who have publicly threatened me with permanent and irreversible harm to my person. Not a broke arm, not the whole end my career BS. Not mundane harm, Atara level harm. My womb, my psyche, my very body as been claimed, like land."

That's not what I signed up for and no one should have to experience that in pursuit of a career here, but...I'm not a wrestler in pursuit of some moral crusade. I can't be at the forethought of your minds if I'm sitting at home. I can't tell my story if I am afraid, and apparently the only way you will listen and take me seriously is if I stoop down to this lowest of levels and tell dick jokes and simultaneously murder a puppy while getting fucked much like in Lux's supposed future."

"Well guess what Doves, last night I got fucked. I had the only dick that exist in this place and for the duration of March you are all my little fluff ball bitches."

"Red X, sorry love, those eons are ending prematurely, we'll discuss this revolution next time."

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