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X-treme Wrestling Federation »   » Archives » WAR GAMES 2017 RP BOARD
Bearded Fan Love, E2
Author Message
"The Wolf of Afghanistan" Joshua Schuler Offline
Oceanic Cowboy



XWF FanBase:
Hardcore, psycho fans

(cheered for breaking rules and bones; excessively violent; creative with weapons)


#1
12-11-2017, 09:10 PM

Fuck!

She wanted me to cream pie her pussy, all well. Now who the fuck could this boy possibly be? Pushing Jessica's head and shoulders out of the way, I quickly put my boxer briefs back on. Biting my lower lip and shaking my head, how in the fuck am I going to explain this shit. Letting out all my immature chuckles before turning around and staring the kid in the eyes. My mouth begins to open but the words I want to say just won't come out. Quickly I begin looking for my pants which contains a pearl ass joint that would totally make this whole situation a lot easier. Dumb bitch is laying on them, still naked, almost incoherent from that boss hog dick down she just received. Most likely unaware of the boy who is no older than eleven who got front row seats to the glorious money shot! Perhaps I should get him front row tickets to the next best thing than watching B-W-P pile drive pussy, B-W-Motherfuckin' P pile driving pussies like Apex and whatever teams that are unlucky enough to win their matches first round of War Games. Will help make this whole mess a little cleaner? Not Jessica's face. No cleaning that mess, forever unclean!

Once again, I find myself placing my hands all over Jessica, well on her hip and shoulder. Before rolling her over, I fondle them delicious melons one more time. Pulling my pants up, I notice pussy juice stains all down one leg, Jesus titty fucking Christ! Can't help but laugh and shake my head. Reaching my hand into my pocket, it is soaked as well. Lucky for me I keep my joints in waterproof cigarette box. Removing one of the most beautiful and skunky joints you could imagine. Pure twenty eight percent THC Afghan Skunk grown by my brothers and me. I pat down my pussy soaked pocket for my lighter, nothing, thank god. My hand reaches into the other pocket and removes a custom zippo lighter. Smoothly I light the joint dangling from my lips. Taking a few deep and long drags, I hold the hit until I almost fall over from lack of oxygen. Exhaling the smoke toward Jessica, thinking it may wake her up. She still just lays silent, eyes closed hands slightly rubbing her sexy parts, and her mouth glowing with a smile she has probably never shown before.

Nerves relaxed, feeling good. That is until I turn back around and remember the child situation. I take a few more drags and walk toward the door waving the kid back with my free hand. Hoping out of the van I take a few more drags and slowly like a sloth close the van door. Contemplating just shoving the kid over and taking off running. You know just run away like a coward like my old friend Jim Caedus does to ones he calls brothers. A fucking dog turd another dog ate and shit out again. Is the equivalent to the character of one of the teams we will face at War Games. No, I can't do that, the camera crew, and well my fan needs me today. Oh, and Jessica of course. Taking one more hit before removing the joint from my lips I lick my upper lip once and begin explaining. Well not so much as just yelling as if I am pissed off.

"What the fuck do you think you were doing? Do you own that van?"

Feeling like a parental figure I stand pointing my finger at the van.

"No I don't own that van. But by the way you plastered that chick, you own her. Kind of like how you and the Motherfuckers are going to own those Apex ! However, you are parked out in front of my house and well with my parents being gone all the time I'm in charge around here."

Shocked at the youngin's response my head tilts. Not that I have a problem with the way he talks, fuck, I'd be a fucking hypocrite something I am not. No, I will leave the hypocrisy for the weak. Straightening my head up right I let out a chuckle and raise my eyebrows.

"Well don't you have some fuckin' nuts on you, bet they are bare, still prolly bigger than that ding dong Robert Main's testicles though. So, I am guessing your name is Gerald Helton? You know what that means? Well it fuckin' means you win a day to hang out with yours truly."

My hands point in toward my chest, almost knife handing myself. Instantly after I finish my sentence Gerald lights up like a Christmas tree at night. Probably the same feelings I would have had if I was ever given the chance to hang out with my favorite wrestler as a kid. These moments are really what this is all about to me, yeah smackin' bitches up in the ring is very huge bonus. Bwarhahaha!

"So I take it by your reaction you are Gerald. So, about what you saw. You weren't fuckin’ supposed to. What I’m fuckin getting at is it'd be cool if you just tuck that deep back in your mind. Use it for your spank bank but never talk about it ever, cool?”

With a smile I give him an ole smile and wink while holding out my fist.

"Oh for sure that shit has been downloaded, saved, and had over a thousand views already. No, it is cool man. Don't worry, I have seen a lot nastier shit online. So why don't we head inside so I can get out of this gay ass school uniform."

Gerald pounds my fist with his and as we draw our fists back like they got thrown from an explosion we throw up the ‘shaka’ hand symbol, rotating it back and forth. Fuck yeah, this fan is decently cool. All of them have so far. This side gig isn’t so bad, it isn’t mercenary work but it’s paying it forward. Plus, cool shit is always happening.

"Okay let me just grab the camera man, this is a broadcast. New show Bearded Fan Love I believe my producer has your parents signature for worldwide exposure. So, let me just grab the gang and then you lead the way little homie."

Still smoking my joint, I begin to walk around the premises looking for our crew. Finally, I find them eight houses down at a gas station, smoking and joking. Angrily I storm up into the middle of their powwow, almost scaring the shit out of one of the new guys. Quickly I smile and let out a laugh. Bwarhahaha! Taking another hit off my joint, I offer the half that's left out to whoever. One of the more senior crew members takes the joint and begins toking, before he starts choking on the epic smoke.

"No I am not mad motherfuckers, come on you know me, I'm chill as penguin nuts yall! If we are all good. No, the fan has arrived and well I think we should get this show on the road."

Waving the crew to follow me, I lead us back to Gerald's home. Gerald quickly leads us inside and takes us to the living room first. Completely decked out in all new top of the line modern appliances. Walls at least thirty feet high almost completely soundproof glass. Giant expensive silk curtains mechanically controlled by remote are slid to one side bunched together allowing sunlight to beam through. Revealing a wonderful view of a very prestigious grape vineyard. Beautiful scene could only be bested by the scene of our hands being raised at the end of the night at War Games.

"Damn this place is ballin' son you must have it made. No parental supervision and still you are pretty dope for what, eleven years old?"

"Get the fuck out of here bro. I'm thirteen man. I'm not a damn child, Pig! Just do whatever but don't trash my parents’ house, they will go ballistic. Most likely why I don't throw parties anymore."

Funny little shit. Doesn't even know he is throwing the best years of life away trying to be more mature. Needs to slow down, go outside, and play on a damn jungle gym or something. Watching the kid walk away in uniform, already being programed. Kind of some fucked up shit. Poor fellah. What to do? Looking around at the very rich decorated home. Nothing looks entertaining. Not to me at least. When it dawns on me, why don't I use the time to talk to the Universe. I point at the camera man and direct him to shoot my every movement.

"X-W-Motherfuckin' F! How the fuck are you doing? Fan-fucking-Tastic better be every single one of your answers. Why you ask? Two words. No, three words. War Motherfucking Games. You know that PPV right down the road we are going to destroy and conquer! My cock would be raging right now but I kind of took care of that earlier, but fuck I am pumped! Hopefully you all are as well. Right now, I am sitting in the home of our next lucky contestant winner and he is going to be joining us momentarily. So, I figured what the hell. Why not give my gods some words of encouragement and honor?!

Don't know if you’ve seen my last two matches or not but fuck they were wildA, fire, tables, and even finishing a match in one move?! What!? Fucking awesome sauce, I know. Well those matches aren't a grain of the material used to build the epic shit that is going to occur at War Games. You have my word. I don't know how the rest of the teams plan to give you what you deserve but we the Motherfuckers will bring violence, destruction, chaos, blood, and defeat to every single one of our enemies. Apex first and so forth. No one is safe. War and games are two of the Motherfucker's favorite things in the whole wide world. Something is seriously screwy in the heads of any other team believing that they will come out victorious.

Apex isn't our only enemy at War Games and we are very aware. We will defeat our ex-brother and his band of butt pirates that believe they are the tip of the spear. Those cracker jacks will soon realize their name is very unfitting and even lame to be quite honest. What the fuck should I care though because weather they want to be called Apex or Ax3 two point zero, they will lay in the center of the ring buried under defeat at the hands of a bunch of Motherfuckers!"


With hype in my voice I almost rip my shirt off my chest. Gerald makes his way back in the living room, almost in what looks to be like my wrestling attire. Minus the flak jacket and a beautiful beard of course. I nod my head toward Gerald and smile before speaking.

"Sweet you are back, and we are live, I actually took the time why you were busy to speak to the XWF Universe a little. Basically, just letting them know the Motherfuckers are pumped for War Games and if they aren't they fucking should be. Gerald are you fucking pumped for War Games?"

Gerald throws up the shaka hand sign like myself into the camera while he speaks.

"Of course I am, War Games is going to be dope. Not only will we see the Motherfuckers show Apex who the real top predators are of the XWF! They also get to proceed to face the other winning teams. I probably won't be able to sleep for days before. My buddies and I will all be sleeping here that night, my parents order me every XWF PPV!"

"Well you might want to hold off on inviting your friends, well at least all of them. I would like to offer you four front row tickets to War Games Gerald. You won't have to settle for just watching the badassery on the big screen but in person. What the fuck do you have to say to that?"

"What do I say to that? Oink, Oink Motherfuckers! B-W-P this is exactly why the Motherfuckers have more fans than those dinks could ever occur. You are our team, the people's team, and you represent us in the ring with every match, not just when it would value you, like Robert 'Baby Nuts' Main."

"Fuck me sideways and spit in my butthole this fucking kid might just be a fucking genius. He's onto something here, I know it. You’ll know it too. Soon enough the whole fucking world will know it. Live right now in the home of thirteen-year-old Gerald, XWF fan since he can remember. I'm Bearded War Pig. This is Bearded Fan Love, episode two, we have to go to a commercial break, but Gerald and I will have more for yah folks don't get your panties in a knot and stay tuned."

My right-hand flies up into the air about lower lip high. Middle finger standing at attention with my arm extended toward the camera lens. Gerald sits next to me on the couch chucking up deuces...
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