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WrestleMom

By: Surt



Copyright © 2009, Surt, ALL Rights Reserved.

Feedback is always appreciated, if you want to send suggestions, responses, anything, please feel free to do that, and I will reply. Thanks for reading this and enjoy. The Celebrity Templates are:

Leah Remini as Tina Torrile. (Though it should be noted that all the wrestling personalities mentioned are actual real life people) 

***

My hand was shaking, my knees were trembling and my heart was jumping out of my chest as I clasped my sweaty palm on the doorknob. "Could I go through with this?" I asked myself, "Could I?" I looked into the adjunct window, taking a peek at her. She was lying face down on the table, with only a tower covering her. "Could I do this, could I...to my own mother?" As I turned the knob, I thought back to all the events that led me there...

***

Hi, my name is Louis; a lot of people call me Lou, I'm from Poughkeepsie, New York, and my mom is a professional wrestler; not the most obvious of professions for a mother to have. Her name is Tina Torrile; she is a half-Sicilian/half-German petite woman (5'3) with a well toned body, brown eyes and golden brown hair. 

When she was around 17, she met a guy, and not being the most careful kinda gal, she got knocked-up. When she told him, he could have not split town any quicker. After I was born, my mom went to go live with her then-recently-married sister and her husband. 

My Aunt's name is Polly and my Uncle's name is Theo, shortly after my mom and me moved in with them, they had one son, Adam, me and him pretty much grew up as brothers. My aunt and uncle were quite different from each other. While Uncle Theo has always been a very cool, approachable guy, Aunt Polly, who is at least 15 years older than my mom, was the disciplinary mother-figure of the house. Even though she seemed quite cold at times, deep down my aunt was a nice person. Adam's a good, normal kid, always easy to get along with.

Since my mom's life's plans were kinda derailed when I was born (she was training to be a gymnast) she looked for a new career path. When I was around 4 or 5, she decided she wanted to be a pro wrestler. My mom was a wrestling fan from birth. When she was a kid, her and her father had an almost daily schedule of wrestling shows they would watch together. Her passion for the industry combined with her acrobatic skills, cheery, likeable demeanour, and good looks made it an easy decision for the woman who always had a rough-and-tumble tomboy personality. Because of her easy-going demeanour, she'd sometimes act more like a sister than a mom -- that along with the fact that we both got told off by my aunt for misbehaving. 

Lots of people, mostly my aunt, tried to put my mom off from pursing her dream, but she kept at it and after training for 2 years, on-and-off in-between jobs, she made her pro debut when I was 7. Of course, it was scary for me, watching my mom get thrown around the ring like that, but I was wised-up about the predetermined nature of professional wrestling a long time ago, so I was ok with it, though my uncle and aunt did make a point of not letting me watch her matches when I was little. 

When she was starting out, she worked for low-level American independent leagues. She got her first big break in Mexico. In Mexico, she wore the outfit she would wear for the majority of her career: an all-over sliver jumpsuit, so I was spared the embarrassment of having a mom that rolled around in skimpy clothes. After a few years of working in Mexico, she'd got herself a good reputation as a solid and technically proficient women's wrestler. Her work impressed the talent scouts in Japan; they invited her to work in the country that was considered the Mecca of serious women's wrestling. 

Because she was away so much, I didn't get to see her a whole lot. She did miss some Christmases and birthdays 'cause she had some show to do. When I was a kid, I did miss her a little, though my uncle and aunt were around, so I always had that family environment. She was never a bad mom, she always did try to make time for me, but being on the road so much, touring the world, there was only so little free time she had.

I never told any of my school friends that my mom was a wrestler, for obvious reasons. Around the time I was in school, the wrestling boom had ushered in the wrestling babes like Sable, Trish Stratus, Lita, etc, making mainstream women's wrestling primo-masturbation fodder for perverts worldwide. That gave me further motivation to keep quiet about my mom's job. Besides, if anyone ever asked, I just said my aunt and uncle were my mom and dad, so no one in school ever knew that my actual mom was tearing it up in Sumo Hall in front of 11,000 screaming fans. 

After the Japanese women's wrestling scene collapsed in 2005, my mom returned to America, working for high-level independent leagues. Then, finally, after 10-plus years of hard graft, my mom got the phone call she was waiting her whole career for: at age 33, she was hired by the WWE, the biggest and most successful wrestling company of all time. She trained and stayed in WWE's Tampa-based developmental league for a whole year. At around the same time, I was in my senior year of high school. Never being the academic type, I planned to work for my uncle's successful construction company after graduating. 

So, after years and years of waiting, the day had come: my mom was set to debut on national television, coincidently on the day after I had turned 18. She was going to be on the Friday Night Smackdown show, everyone in my house gathered around to watch her match....Little did I know that this one moment would be the start of the most craziest, amazing, wonderful, scary, horrible, and all-around -- yes, I'm going to say it -- magical times of my entire life.

***

"Come quick, she's gonna be on TV soon."

I rushed over to the couch and sat next to my Uncle Theo. Seated close-by was my Aunt Polly and my cousin brother Adam, who was sitting on the floor. 

I leaned down towards Adam. "What's her match?" I asked

"Umm, from what I remember, I think she's teaming with Melina to go up against Natalya and McCool." 

I leaned back onto the couch to see my grinning uncle nodding his head at me. "You hear that? Melina!" 

My aunt slapped him on the shoulder, and said in her Brooklyn accent, "Hey! I ain't wanting none of that talk around me!"

She must have thought he was too old to be ogling women like Melina, what with the grey stubble all over his brown head, along with the wrinkles on his face; it was kinda creepy to see him all excited over a woman almost thirty years his junior. Meanwhile, my aunt, with her 50's-style bob haircut, and pale sour-melon face, was definitely not happy to be watching "filthy wrestling filth." 

"Look it, look it," pointed Adam at the screen, "It's next!" 

Out to the ring first came Michelle McCool, a tall, slim blond with shiny blue shorts and a matching halter top. Accompanying her to the ring was her partner Natalya, a shorter, stockier woman with broad shoulders, blond hair, pink highlights, wearing tight pink trousers with a black vest. 

They both jeered and taunted the crowd as they walked down the ring; they were the bad girls team in that match, also known as the "heels." My mom was on the good girl's team, more commonly referred to as the "faces."

Up next to the ring was Melina, a sexy olive-skinned Latina woman with frizzy dark hair, an amazingly acrobatic body, with a devilishly sexy smile to boot. She simmered her sexy body down to the ring with her special paparazzi red carpet entrance. The room got tense as we waited for the next participant. 

"...And her partner, hailing from Poughkeepsie, New York: Tina Torrile!" 

A generic techno theme blared out from the sound-system as my mom walked down the entrance ramp. Gone was the all-over sliver jumpsuit; in its place were dark blue form-fitting lycra tights, along with a matching crop-top style sports bra which accentuated her newly-toned body. She and Melina were smiling and tagging hands with the crowd. 

"What is she wearing?" grumbled Aunt Polly. "I preferred her other outfit, this one is just too skimpy. Look! Her whole stomach is on show!"

"Well, that's the major leagues for ya," my uncle replied, "gotta look more H.D friendly in this era."

"Theo!" my aunt exclaimed in surprise. "Don't be so crass, Louis is right here!"

"Oh, that?" I said. "It's nothing, it's ok, Aunt Polly, yeah, don't worry, I'm not embarrassed or anything, I know the score. I think she looks good...healthy."

"Yeah, healthy," agreed my uncle.

My healthy mom got in the ring, the bell rung and the match started, all of us in the room watching in silence. As I watched my mom in the ring, I had this really weird warm feeling in my chest that stretched all the way down to the pit of my stomach. I admitted to myself that my mom looked good, I would even say sexy. So odd to think it and know it's true; it just felt weird just watching, seeing her look so damn good. Before, when she worked in Mexico and Japan, she was promoted purely as a serious professional wrestler, but in the WWE, she was flaunting her sex appeal for the first time: I didn't know if I liked that or not.

Throughout the match, I got more awkward feelings when I saw my mom's fit body bounce around the ring; I was relieved when Melina was in there, at least I could appreciate her body without feeling guilty. The match was not that long, just about six minutes; my mom was pinned by a kick to the face from McCool. 

After the match, Melina helped Mom get on her feet, hugging her and patting her on the back. Now that was pretty damn bizarre: watching one of my fantasy women, all sweaty and breathing heavy, in an embrace with my mother! I had never been that confused and turned-on before. But the worst (or best) was yet to come. Just before the show went to commercial, Melina gave my mom a friendly tap on the butt! That gave me a hard one, along with a whole bunch of confusion. 

I sat through the rest of the show in a haze, just thinking about that match -- and my mom. I tried to get my mind off it, but I was stuck in a loop, thinking about it over and over and over. 

After the show was over, I rushed to my room and sat there for a while, just thinking about what had happened. Eventually, the thoughts were just too much to keep bottled up in my head, so I began muttering to myself: "Man...Did I just get a hard-on for my mom? My mom!? No way...She did look good, no! No way...it was that costume, man, that fucking ring gear! Oh lord...ok, ok... She has a nice body, ok? I admit it...nothing wrong with knowing your mom is good-looking, tons of people have hot moms...shit...why was I so excited over that? Man! I don't know why....Melina slapping her ass...fuck, that did it for me...fuck..."

I decided to stop thinking and went looking for things to occupy my mind with. As I was on the internet, my mom was still on my mind, so I did something I'd never done before: I went on the forums to look for comments about my mom. When Mom wasn't in the WWE, I knew guys were discussing her on message boards and stuff, but that was mostly about her in-ring work, what I sought on that day was the reactions to her sexy makeover. I found the feedback to her WWE debut, skimming her in-ring contributions and seeing what the guys (and one gal) thought of her 'physically.' I got what I wanted. 

"oh my god... look at the ass on that, wow! who knew Tina was packing so much heat?"

"I wish I had tits like hers, all perky and perfect"

"Fuck, i always thought she was a babe, now i wanna put her on my knee and spank that booty!"

As I read comments like those I unexpectedly started scratching my crotch region, getting more and more excited with each pervy comment. "That's my mom they're talking about," I reminded myself, "My mom!" After I had read all the comments, I went to the official website of the WWE. Once there, I saw a tiny little icon which said, "Tina Torrile Studio Shoot." I clicked it without thinking. I looked at the posed pictures of her; she was wearing her ring gear, smiling with her hands on her hips. There was another of her with a flirty smile, another of her pointing and grinning. I was rubbing myself at that point, undeniably turned-on by the sexy pics of my mom. Then came the one that sent me over the edge: It was a picture of her smiling, with her back to the camera, her tight, firm butt on display: that did it for me. I pulled my pants down, and for the first-time ever, jerked off to my mom.

After I had finished, I felt guilty, dirty, horrible guilt. It took many deep breaths to calm myself down. Surprisingly, that guilt melted away quite quickly. I was able to reason with myself, able to find reasons for what I did, like how I never thought of my mom as my full 100% mother because she was always gone so much, so that maternal link wasn't that strong, yeah, Aunt Polly was like my real mother to me. So, for those reasons, I didn't feel that bad at all. 

Afterwards, I would try to avoid watching my mom's TV matches with the family, I'd always viewed them alone. Mom never had many photos on the website, just her in her ring gear. They were P.G rated pictures, nothing too exciting. Whenever I was alone on the PC, I would do my thing to them. I was also able to separate my mom's sexy persona on TV from the real life woman I knew, but saying that, I thought it was amazingly kinky stuff: having a sexy mom on TV I can jerk off to.

Due to her WWE schedule, my mom was home for only one day and a half each week. There was a little awkwardness when I would see her, though I quickly got over that when she told me of her adventures in the WWE. I endlessly asked her questions about the experience. By the time I ran out of questions, she was gone again. This cycle went on all through the summer, leading into the fall...

***

I was walking home from work, thinking of which questions I should ask my mom on her weekly visit. The basic gist of my questions was always along the lines of, "what is this guy really like?" So I went inside my house, and much to my surprise, my mom was already home. She was on the couch with my aunt and uncle. 

"Mom!? Oh wow cool, your home! Isn't it early though? I thought you were coming back tomorrow?"

She got off the couch and walked towards me. "Well, we all got a few extra days off because, Son, I got a surprise..." she turned to my aunt and uncle, "Ok should I tell him?"

They both nodded in approval.

"Ok, be ready Hun...How would you like to join me, on the road, as I go on a two-week tour of Europe?"

I was left stunned for a moment. "What? You? Me? Umm, I wanna make this clear: on the road with the WWE?"

"Yes, all over Europe, with the WWE!"

"Yes, of course I would!" I jumped up and down, hugging my mom. I was on top of the world! I was going to be around my heroes and icons! I was actually going to meet the legends and stars of the WWE! I was over the moon!

I looked over to my uncle and asked, "Hey, will this all be ok? What about work?"

"It's fine, Lou, think of it as a vacation."

"Yes! Thanks so much everyone! This will be great!"

"This will be good for us as well," remarked my mom. "It will help us bond."

"Yeah, Mom, sure...woo! I'm going to Europe, yeah!"

***

The trip was two days away -- and I counted down each and every hour. After an agonising wait, I was off to Europe! First stop: England! WWE's biggest international market, they planned to stay for five days in the United Kingdom. We landed in Manchester. It was quite a scene as my mom walked around the airport. Making sure she represented the company well, she wore big superstar sunglasses, expensive black jeans and a dark blue tank-top. Her breasts bounced around very nicely in that snug-fitting top, getting the approval of the leering men who were captivated by her hip-swaying walk. After she called the front office, we got in a rental car and drove onward to the arena.

She started the conversation: "So, when we get there, you just stay quiet. Try not to bother anyone."

"Not even an autograph?" I asked as she drove us through the English suburbs.

"No, Hun!" she said in that familiar Brooklyn accent. "You know those guys; you gotta respect those codes of theirs. They only allow kids to hang out with them, only little kids since they wanna be nice, but you? You ain't cute or little," she chuckled to herself. "If any do say hi, be polite, talk to them, but don't kiss too much ass, they hate that."

"Ok, Mom." I then looked at the backseat; I saw her ring gear peeking out the bag. "Umm," I asked nervously, "You gonna be wearing that?"

"Why? You got a problem with them?"

"Umm, I mean, yeah, kinda. I liked the other one better; this one is kinda more...embarrassing."

"Son!" she remarked in surprise. "When did you turn into your aunt? I could be wrestling in a bikini or in lingerie like Maria! You want that? Don't think I don't have the body for it!" she said with a giggle. 

"Oh ha," I mumbled jokingly, "No need for that." Embarrassingly, the thought of my mother in a bikini or in lingerie gave me a hard-on; I shuffled around my seat so it didn't become obvious. It was really weird being around my mom when she looked that sexy, it was one thing seeing her on TV and on the internet, but another when she was right there. We made some brief chit-chat before we got to the arena. When we did, my mom went off to the locker rooms to get ready for her match while I wandered around in awe, seeing the wrestlers I had grown-up watching on TV, right there in front of me. A lot of people didn't even know that my mom had a son, expect for the high-ranking officials, who had okayed my mom's request for me to come on that tour. Being an unknown was fine with me; I stayed quiet, just sat and watched the wrestlers work. 

***

"You kidding me? Was it fun? It was insane! We sold out the Sportatorium every night we were there. The Freebirds and the Von Erichs was one of the, if not the, hottest feud of all-time, the live gates were through the roof! You won't find anything like it today."

Despite my mom's warnings, I was having fun talking to the Head Writer of the Smackdown show, and bona-fide wrestling legend, Michael "P.S." Hayes. He was a big, tall, heavy guy, in his mid-50's, long, messy blond hair, flesh-coloured beard, with a scraggly southern accent. 

He slapped me on the back, "How about you get in the business, eh? What are you, five-eight? Trim, good-looking kid like you, chicks would go nuts for that!"

"Ha, yeah, maybe." 

Just then, a production guy came up to Hayes and whispered into his ear. 

"Ok, ok, thanks," he then looked at me, checked around the area to see if the coast was clear, and whispered, "Hey kid, you know Eve?"

"Oh Eve? Yeah! She's so hot." Eve Torres is a mega-sexy Central American beauty with an equally hot combination of T&A. 

"Well, how would you like to see her in the showers?"

"What?" I couldn't believe what he had just said.

"You know? Eve? Do you want to see her in the showers? Naked."

I took a big gulp and replied, "Well, hell yeah! If that's ok."

A huge smile spread across his face, "Come with me then."

He led me to a darkened corner of the building, we talked as we walked.

"Now, with these buildings, they always have peep-holes in the showers, it's a British thing, well anyway, it's a little secret between us higher-up's, we can peek at the fine ladies that work here and since you're cool, I'm letting you sneak a peek at Eve!"

We went through a narrow corridor and faced a hot wooden panel. I could feel the heat emanating from the wet, damp floor and could literally see the steam coming out from the wall. I could have exploded from excitement at that moment.


WrestleMom Ch. 02



Copyright © 2010, Surt, ALL Rights Reserved.

There is no need to read 'WrestleMom Ch.01' as everything relevant to this story is explained at the start, though it is recommended as you will have a better understanding of what's going on. Feedback is always appreciated. If you want to send suggestions, responses, anything, please feel free to do that and I will reply. Thanks for reading and enjoy. The Celebrity Templates are:

Leah Remini as Tina Torrile. (Though it should be noted that all the wrestling personalities mentioned are actual real life people.) 

***

"Hello? Vince, you won't believe what I just did."

"Huh? Who is this?"

"It's me, Lou, remember?"

"Oh right: Louis. Well, what happened?"

I took a deep breath in, "Well, Vince, you know my mom, right?"

"Yes..."

"Well: I went to her motel room, got her naked and finger-fucked her!"

There was a long awkward silence as Vince digested that information.

"...You did what?"

"I, umm, fucked my mom...with my finger."

"AHHHH! AHHH!!!" Vince let out loud, ungodly screams of anger down the phone. "Gawd damn it! Gawd damn it you motherfucker! You, you, you fucking ruined it! You fucking ruined everything!"

"I'm sorry, I just --"

"You ruined all my perfect planning! All of it! Fuck! Do you know what you've done!? Do you!? Come to my office now!" I heard a loud slamming sound as he hung up the phone.

Uh oh: was I in trouble. Before we go on, I better explain what exactly had got me to that point.

***

My mother is a professional wrestler, working for the largest wrestling company in the world: World Wrestling Entertainment. Her name is Tina Torrile. She is 34-years-old, half-Sicilian/half-German, has a petite, 5'3, very well toned yet feminine body, brown eyes, bronze skin and golden brown hair. I'm Lou Torrile; I'm 18, about 145 pounds, 5'8, tan skin, brown hair, that's enough about me.

I know my mom is hot, but I only really noticed her hotness when her sex appeal was amplified after she had joined the WWE. First off, her ring outfits were smoking hot: they were these lycra sports-bra type things and super-snug tights. Her body had also changed, becoming more toned, tight, much more H.D friendly. Secretly, and somewhat ashamedly, I pleasured myself to her posed pictures and television appearances. 

But, a bigger surprise was in store. She came home for one of her weekly visits and told me she had a ticket for me: a two-week European trip with the WWE. I was given the opportunity to join my mom on tour with the WWE all over Europe. Of course, as a lifelong wrestling fan, I was ecstatic to be joining her on tour. I never knew then how quickly things would change.

My first night in the company, I was victim to a cruel prank. Michael Hayes, an asshole ex-wrestler turned writer, tricked me. He said he was gonna let me peek on one of the hot women wrestlers, Eve Torres, but instead led me to a shower which was occupied by my very own mother. I saw her whole bare backside -- and it was pretty damn hot. Of course, he didn't know I'd derive pleasure from that experience; he just wanted to mess me up.

After that whole fiasco, I met the one and only Vincent Kennedy McMahon -- The Chairman, C.E.O and all-around Supreme Ruler of the WWE. He was a big, powerful guy with a huge presence, big booming voice, short white/black hair, very broad shoulders, with slightly orange skin. He also had a pretty good physique for a guy in his early 60's. He heard about what had happened and promised to keep it hush-hush for my sake. As we talked, he turned all weird; asking me if I think my mom is hot. Somehow he figured out that I do think my mom is hot, which led him to create this masterful plan on the spot. The purpose of this plan I did not know. He took my phone number and promised to call me. Around this time I started helping out the ring crew with taking down the rings, cleaning the mats, helping lay out the arena, putting chairs in place, etc.

After a couple days, Vince's plan was ready to get rolling. In Madrid, Spain, Vince booked a photoshoot for my mom -- and I was going to watch it happen, in secret, of course. Under instructions from Vince, I hid in the corner of the studio and watched my mom pose in some super-sexy outfits. What drove me over the limit was seeing my mom in ultra-tight stars-and-stripes boy-shorts -- with no other pieces of clothing on. 

From then on things started veering off-course. After getting in trouble for confronting pro-wrestler Dave Batista (he was hitting on my mom, I politely asked him not to fuck her: that didn't go over too well with him) I was put on 'Mother Fucker Duty', my role required me to take care of a bunch of kids that were left unsupervised because their mothers were being, well, fucked by the wrestlers. 

During Mother Fucker Duty is where I met Will, a British masseuse. We quickly bonded over our mutual hatred for Michael Hayes and our shared love for all things pro-wrestling. After he found out I was Tina Torrile's son, he decided he wanted to ride with me on the bus to the next arena. While we were on-route to the next town, we got talking. He made me admit what I thought about my mom: that I find her hot and all. He then came up with a plan for me to get some action with my mom. It was ultra-risky, but my bonor had taken over from my brain at that point: I went with his plan. Basically, he used his job as a masseuse to book an appointment for my mom, then he brought some 'special candles', was going to light them in the room, and with the effect of these candles, my mom was to be slightly out of it, basically not knowing what's going on around her. 

I went with his plan, he set everything up, I walked in the room, rubbed my mom's body, her back and ass, and for the big finish, finger-fucked her to completion. (For those that think I'm a monster, I would like to note that my mother was so busy being a pro-wrestler that she never took the time to raise me. I consider my aunt and uncle as my real mom and dad. Yes, I am making excuses.)

After that I called Vince. As you all know, he was not happy with what I'd done. I was on my way to his hotel room, ready for all sorts of hell to be thrown my way

***

It was early morning in Portugal. Vince's assistant had texted me his location: he was at a fancy hotel that was a few blocks down from the motel where I had, umm, done my deed. I entered inside, was led by an usher to the elevator and went up to the highest floor. My hands were shaking; I was continuously rubbing them over my cum-soaked black shirt and black pants. I eventually arrived at the highest floor; the usher pointed me to the direction of Vince's room. I walked to his room, feeling very nervous -- I would say petrified.

I approached his door and gave it a feeble knock.

"Hello?" I whispered.

Vince tore open the door, looking like an insane rapid animal, his eyes all bloodshot, his tie hanging loose, his blue shirt all stained. He grabbed me by my shirt and threw me into the room. I stumbled in, almost knocking over a flowerpot in the process. Vince slammed the door shut and gave me a full-force shove that knocked me on my ass.

"What the fuck were you thinking!?"

"I-I'm sorry Sir."

"Shadup!" he paced furiously through the room, pausing to wag his finger and shout: "You didn't think I would find out!? You didn't think that I, ME, would not find out!? Who in the hell do you think you are!? I have fired people for a lot less than what you done --a lot less!" he grabbed his tie and threw it on the ground. 

"Get up!" he ordered.

I stood up while trying to stop my knees from shaking.

Vince looked away from me, then, started taking several deep breaths. "What you did was sick, sick, do you hear me!?"

"Yes-yes Sir, I am deeply sorry."

"Sorry just won't cut it!"

There was a long tense silence between us. Vince was looking at the floor, quietly fuming. I spoke up.

"Umm, Sir, I can explain --"

"Explain what!? That you and some British guy drugged your mother while you had your way with her?"

I was left speechless. I had no idea that Vince knew what had happened -- or how he knew.

"You-you knew?"

He turned his head and scowled, "Of course I fucking know! I'm Vince McMahon gawd dammit! I know everything! I manage a company of fucking degenerates! I have to know everything!" He held his chest while taking several more deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. 

"It's not just that you touched her, it's -- oh fuck! The purity, the purity!"

I didn't understand what he was saying, so I quietly nodded to his ramblings.

"The purity! Admire, not touch, admire...dammit...wait: I can turn this around...I can make it all better, I can do all the things I wanted to do, all I need to do is erase this incident..." he turned his face towards me, approached me and stuck his index finger in my face. "I'll make sure she won't find out. I have cleaned up much worse situations -- much worse. The problem I have is you: I want to make sure something like this never happens again."

"It won't Sir, I swear --"

"Shadup! This will work because I want it to work, you hear me? And you will want it to work, because if this sort of thing happens again, so help me gawd, if you so much as look at her the wrong way, I will fire her on the spot! You got that?"

"Yes-yes Sir."

"Now get! Get!"

I stumbled over myself as I ran out the room. I shut the door then fell down on my knees, totally exhausted, emotionally and physically. I screwed up -- big time. My actions nearly cost my mom her dream job. I was lucky I only got a warning -- so was she. I then stood up and went back to the motel. I got myself cleaned up, went to the show and did my ring crew thing. I tried avoiding my mom for the whole show, but did catch her towards the end.

"Hi Hun!" she shouted in her familiar Brooklyn accent. She ran over to me in her ring gear; she had a towel around her shoulder as she had just finished wrestling. The sweat had made her clothes tighter, the perspiration running down all over her gorgeous body.

I turned around and nervously mumbled, "Hey."

"Not seen you around much, they working my poor boy hard?"

"Ha, yeah," I replied as I tried to divert my eyes from her smoking hot body.

"Last day, going back home soon, well not me 'cause I got another show to do in Mexico...you feeling well, Hun? You don't look too good."

"No I'm fine, just tired."

"Well, not me! I feel great! I have so much energy today." 

"Umm, yeah." 

"Well, I better get going, gotta change, oh, I guess this is goodbye then," Mom stood on her tiptoes and gave me a hug, her boobs pressed against my chest. She rubbed her cheek against mine, hugging me tightly. 

"I hope you enjoyed this trip, Hun."

"Yeah, yeah, it was very interesting, Mom. I'll never forget it."

***

After a long plane ride, I was finally back home in Poughkeepsie, New York -- and had yet another surprise waiting for me as soon as I stepped through the door. I looked through the mail and found a letter with my name on it -- from the WWE. I opened it up and found a contract: I'd been hired full-time as one of the WWE ring crew. I was happy to be working full-time with the WWE, but wondered why I needed to become an employee for Vince's plan to work. I didn't have too long to think as my first show was booked for the very next day.

Before I went to go repack, I called my mom and told her the good news.

"Hello? Hey Mom, guess what? I got a job with the WWE: I'm officially in the ring crew."

"What!? Really? I didn't even know you'd applied."

"Umm yeah, I...did apply; put a word in that I'd like to go full-time, hope that's ok?"

"Well...as long as you're happy."

"I am, Mom, really, but I got, umm, can I ask a favour?"

"What is it, Hun?"

"Well, could you, umm, not tell anyone who I am, like, not tell anyone I'm your son?"

"Oh, Hun: I been keeping you secret for years. You're my very own urban legend. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone who you are. Besides, it's not like I want anyone to know I got a son as old as you!" she said with a giggle, "People will think I'm older than I am! I don't want that! It's fine, Hun, I'm sure we won't bump into each other that much anyways, so it won't be that big a problem. Ok, Hun?" 

"Yeah, thanks Mom." That was a big relief.

"So anything else? I got a show to get ready for."

"No that's it, bye Mom."

"Bye Hun, well done, big kisses, bye!"

***

The next day I was in New Orleans, Louisiana, getting ready for my first show. I was working what is known as a 'house show', a smaller non-televised live-event. I was on the RAW crew while my mom was on the SmackDown crew, so she was not there. It was also a well-known fact that The McMahon's rarely, if ever, attend house shows, so I was safe from another of Vince's rage-filled tirades. 

For the next week or so, I just went about my job, did as told, disassembled this ring, put those chairs there, cleaned mats, stuff like that. I didn't mind taking a back seat: I screwed-up big time, almost cost my mom her job, could've cost Will his job too. I committed a criminal offense after all. The best thing to do at that time was to just do my job. I blended in pretty well, what with my black hat, black shirt and black pants; it was like I was almost invisible. 

Since no one knew my identity, I fit in pretty well with the other crew guys. If those crew guys knew Tina Torrile was my mom, I'm sure they would've ripped me to shreds, having such a hot mom and all. Gotta admit, I did like it when they talked dirty about my mom, with me there, loving every pervy comment. One sticks in my mind, it's from a guy called Mike. While me and Mike were travelling on the road, I asked him to pick three women wrestlers and then explain to me what he'd have each of them doing. This was his response: 

"If I could have my dream, like, dream fuck with those Diva wrestlers, I'd first want Eve naked, right, then Maryse naked too, I want them two to fuck each other so hard, do everything, pussy-licking, kissing, slamming pussies, everything. Right, ok, while they do that, I want that Tina naked, sucking my cock, 'cause she looks like a woman with experience. I'm dead sure she gives the best head. Then, when all three are tired, I ram them all as they lay side-by-side on the bed."

A guy telling me, to my face, that he wants my mother sucking his cock was a big taboo turn-on for me. Also during this time period, the pictures my mom took on that Spanish photoshoot were published in a magazine, but sadly the magazine was only sold in Europe. Good thing for the internet, as those pictures were quickly put online for the whole world to see. They were a cut-above the stuff seen in the WWE mags, the lighting made it look almost like a porno shot. Gotta admit, it was pretty hot seeing my mom's half-naked body in those pictures. If I looked close enough, I could see beads of sweat glistening off her sexy bronzed skin. She was wearing very skimpy outfits, like the stars-and-stripes bra and boy-shorts (the photoshoot had an Americana theme.) My favourite picture was the one that had her cupping her bare breasts.

I also took pleasure in the dirty comments left behind by those who viewed the pictures; knowing they were talking about my very own mother gave them that extra added taboo edge:

"Fuck: look at Tina's fucking hot thick legs. She could crush me with those."

"I feel so fucking patriotic looking at these pictures. My flag pole is riding very high!"

"Damn, if Tina's son is around, I would want him to know that his mom is one hot assed whore."

"I wanna rape this dumb bitch's face and glue those stupid slutty lips shut with my wad."

***

After weeks of diligent work, I was working on one of the big shows. I was part of the ring crew for a RAW taping. RAW is WWE's flagship show which goes live across the world every Monday night. I knew Vince would be there -- and I suspected that he was still pissed at me. He's a man that's known to hold grudges, so you could guess my trepidation when I was called to his office.

After a bit of searching, I found the place he had made his office for the evening. After settling my nerves, I entered inside. It was a large room which had all the tables arranged in a square formation. At the end of the room was Vince. He was looking through a script with a pained expression.

"Gawd dammit, can't we get anyone over?" he mumbled to himself. He then saw me out the corner of his eye, took his glasses off, stood up and said with a friendly smile: "Oh hello Louis." His demeanour was completely different from the last time we had met: his pinstripe suit was impeccable, his blue shirt clean and his tie neatly done-up. 

"Umm, hello," I replied.

He sat back down and pointed to the chair next to him. "Come, sit."

I made the long walk around the table and sat across from him.

"Right, all that business before is behind us. Fresh start."

"Yes Sir."

"You understand why I was so angry, right?"

"Yes Sir, because it was wrong."

"Right, and because you were only meant to admire, not touch, it was too early for you to do that. Purity, you understand? Purity."

"Umm, yeah." I really didn't understand, but I agreed with him anyways.

"Good, because I have this grand vision for your mother and I want you to help me with it. Wanna hear it?" he sounded really excited.

"Yeah, sure."

"Okay," he put his hand in the air to mimic a marquee, "Tina Torrile: the first mother of sports-entertainment! You know, for all these years, we've had sexy women come through the company, real sexy women, but none like your mother. She's older, yes, but in today's culture, from what I'm told, forty is the new thirty, yes? Why can't a mother be sexy, your mother is sexy." His face was quivering with pleasure; he was getting real excited with his thoughts. "Think about it: her as a sexy mother, gyrating, all the males in the audience stimulated, perhaps changing their opinions on mothers, maybe their own opinions on their mothers. Lot of sexy mothers out there, oh yes. An-and it will be public knowledge she has a son. The guys will have discussions, 'what if she was my mom?' that question will be posed to them, yes, yes I should've done this sooner but your mother is the first with a son of your age... I love this angle." 

"Yeah, I like it too." I loved Vince's ideas, even if they were hard to explain.

"That's why I got you here. I want you -- her very own son -- to come up with the ideas for this angle. I mean, who better qualified than you to present her as a sexy mother! You're young too; you must know what the guys would like."

"Well, yeah I do."

"Perfect! Let's start making ideas right now. Ok, go, tell me something."

"Umm, umm, ok, if she's becoming a new character, we could film vignettes." 

He loudly slammed his hand on the table. "Perfect! Vignettes! That will be perfect! And what will she do in these vignettes?"

Well, I guess, the stuff that moms do?"

Vince paused, then, looked up at the ceiling. "Great! I'm getting excited just thinking of the possibilities. How about that MILF thing I used to hear about, what does that mean?"

"It means, umm, Mother I'd Like to, umm..."

"Go on, spit it out."

"Fuck."

"Well there's no need for that kind of language."

"No! No! That's what it means: Mother I'd Like to Fuck."

"Ohh...Well, that's stupid."

After explaining the concept of MILF, I wrote down all my ideas and handed them to him.

"Pleasure doing business with you," he said with a broad smile and a strong handshake. "You know, I didn't like you at first, hated you after that whole finger-fucking business, but now I like ya."

"Umm, thanks, Sir."

"Now get, I have a show to book."

I walked out the room, having a good feeling about the ideas I gave to Vince. I was looking forward to seeing them come to life.




WrestleMom Ch. 02



***

After the meeting, things started rolling pretty fast. Because it was Vince McMahon's pet project, my mom's angle was being fast-tracked: it had the full attention of all WWE's creative departments. Mom was immediately taken off television and told she would be sent to sunny Tampa, Florida, where she would film The Hot Mom vignettes. She was to be off television and any live events for five whole weeks, so they could reintroduce her after they had screened all the vignettes. To keep her busy, my mom was to stay in Tampa and help train the rookie wrestlers in WWE's developmental league: Florida Championship Wrestling.

I was pretty anxious to see the finished vignettes, I mean, they were my own ideas. Seeing my mom play out my fantasies was something I really, really wanted to see. 

***

I was in Newark, New Jersey. It was about two weeks after my mom had been sent to Tampa. As I was doing my ring crew duties, I got a text message from one of Vince's Assistants:

"Come to the screening room. Mr. McMahon wants to see you."

I wandered around the arena and found the door which had "Screening Room" written on it. I opened the door and entered inside. The large room was really dark; the only light came from the projector screen. There were rows of chairs ahead of me, with about ten-or-so WWE writers sitting with notepads in their hands. Then, out of nowhere, a voice said, "How ya doing?"

I got a real big scare, looked to my left and saw Vince standing there.

One of the writers turned around and said in a whiny voice, "Hey writers only, no ring guys."

"Shadup!" said Vince, "Don't you dare talk down to him! He's about as valued as all of you!"

"S-sorry Sir."

"Tsk." Vince grabbed my shoulder, grinned and whispered, "Sit in the back, best view."

"Thanks, Sir."

I sat in the back row, all alone with many seats to myself. A long-haired, puffy-jacket wearing, slightly pale man walked in front of the projector. He began speaking.

"Hello everyone, I'm the producer. These are the Tina Torrile vignettes we filmed in Tampa, we're about to show you them all, they're each about thirty seconds to a minute long, the title of the vignette will flash across the screen before it starts, so umm yeah, enjoy."

The projector stared flickering. My heart was racing, my chest was tight, I had the old cliché of butterflies floating around in my stomach: I was excited beyond words. The videos started.

9:00am: It's morning, the weather is sunny, the location is a busy school entrance. There are many cars and school busses parked around the area. There were dozens of school kids running around, going towards the school. An SUV then drives on screen, the camera zooms in on it, four kids come out of the car, they wave bye to the driver. The car window rolls down and you see that the driver is my mom. She's wearing a pink tank-top, her hair in a bun. She looked into the camera, smiled and began speaking:

"The school-run: something all us moms have gotten used to. I can tell you, waking up early ain't fun, but when it's your turn to drop the kids off, you gotta be responsible...I'm sure they'll be having fun in school, knowing them, they'll be getting into some naughty behaviour. Come to think of it, us moms can be pretty naughty too, am I right? It's not like I'm just gonna sit around, doing nothing. Me? I'll be having my own fun."

My mom winks at the camera, then drives away. The camera pans out; a logo appears right before it ends. It is written in bubble writing. It read: "Tina Torrile -- Dream Mom."

12:00pm: This vignette started with an ultra-tight close-up of my mom's toned ass. She was wearing very sexy, snug-fitting, pink sweatpants that accentuated her perfectly round ass. The camera zoomed out, showed that she was bending over, her hands on the floor and her ass high in the air, wearing the pink tank-top seen in the previous vignette. The camera zoomed out further to show that she was in a yoga studio, with many other women doing the same exercise. She poked her head from between her legs and said:

"You know, as a mother, I can stay fit just by running after my kids, though that doesn't cover all the core areas. I do think it's important to stay in shape, stay active and be in good condition," she bent down further, her legs spread further apart, "And being a mom, it pays to be flexible." She winked to the camera and smiled. Her logo appeared again, this time with a new tagline: "Tina Torrile -- Great in Any Position."

4:00pm: The setting is a kitchen. My mom is standing with her front side to the camera, behind an oven, wearing a "kiss the cook" blue apron, along with red oven mittens, her bare feet and bare legs visible. She had some cream on her cheek, her hair still in a bun. She looked at the camera while giving a sexy grin.

"Oh hello. This is me cooking, something all us moms do, am I right? As all us mothers know, with children, things can get hectic, so as a mother, you always got to be prepared, ready, doing whatever needs to be done at any time."

She was interrupted by the sound of kids entering the house. She sighed and said with a flustered look on her face, "And as a mother, you sometimes have to do two things at once, like laundry and cooking. Excuse me." Mom turned around, bent over and gave the viewers a fantastic surprise: behind the apron, she was wearing snug-fitting, super-sexy red lace panties, which showed a very nice, detailed outline of her ass. She then turned around and left the room, the camera lingering on the oven. 

"Tina Torrile -- Simply Delicious Mothering" 

8:00pm: It was early-evening, the sun was setting. There was a wide-angle view of a sandy beach with the ocean in the distance. My mom came running from the left, her hair all loose, wearing just a frilly gold and black two-piece bikini. Her toned, athletic body looked tanned and amazingly sexy. She looked at the camera and gave her familiar smile.

"Ah! I just love the feeling of sand on my feet.... As a mother, I always like to give myself some 'me' time, which involves me getting in my bikini and running on this beach. As you can tell by the results, this activity works real well. I can tell you; this figure has got my kids out of a whole lot of trouble. You could say staying fit is my hobby."

A man then ran past her and gave her a wolf-whistle. 

"Well, it helps when you look good doing it," she said while blushing. My mom then continued running. Before fading to black, my mom was shown conversing with the man that whistled at her.

"Tina Torrile -- Sexy As a Mom Could Be"

"Okay!" shouted the producer man. "Fifth and final vid' about to come up, do remember this one will not be shown on TV, we may put this on the website."

11:30pm: My mom was in a swanky bathroom, looking at the mirror, combing her luscious hair. She was wearing a sliver robe which had a plunging neckline, partially revealing her breasts. She looked into the mirror and spoke in a more seductive, whispery tone.

"When the kids are asleep and all is quiet, I like to listen to that silence, because it never lasts. Right now, this may be my favourite time of the day, because right now, this mother gets to be a woman...Sometimes, kids need to be reminded that their mothers are also women, women with needs."

She started walking down the hallway, to the adjunct bedroom, the camera following her from the side as she walked. In the distance, there was a clear shadowy outline of a man, laid out on the bed, waiting for her. She stopped at the kids' room, pointed to the door and grinned.

"They had their fun. Now: my fun. Don't worry: I won't be too loud."

They cut to a shot in the hallway, my mother's back to the camera. She let the robe slip off her body, and for a brief moment, there was a blurry look at her entire naked backside. She then walked towards the bedroom as the vignette faded to black, her name appearing on screen one last time: "Tina Torrile -- You Wish She Was Your Mother".

Wow: that was my reaction. Seeing my own mother in those vignettes was so amazingly hot. Seeing her play the role of mother in such a sexualised way was a deep, dark fantasy of mine come true. 

Vince stood up with a wide grin on his face. "That was fantastic, beautiful, I loved it!"

The writers mumbled around and agreed with Vince, all of them trying to find the 'right' opinion.

"It was very...unique," said one writer.

"Of course it was! Now make sure those get on SmackDown, replay them on SuperStars too, now get, get! I dare any of you to come up with an idea as good as what you just saw! I dare you!"

The writers scurried out the room. Vince saw me and gave me a slight nod. After the show was over I went to my hotel room and, umm, thought about the vignettes many, many times. When I got home that week, I got a big surprise -- my paycheck had several more zeros added to it. I was very well compensated for coming up with all those ideas. 

Over the following weeks, I looked to the internet for reactions to my mom's sexy new persona.

"Did you see that ASS? OMG! MILF all the way. When she bended down, I want to strip her pants off, stick my cock in that tight ass... so sexy."

"I wanna fuck her so bad when I saw her in that bikini. That bitch wants it too."

"CUMMED TEN TIMES. Wishing she was my mom, cooking ME dinner like that!!! I swear to god I saw her ass in that last one. I want to be her son too!"

"This reminds me of when my mom and dad would fuck so loud I would hear from my room! Good times!"

After all the vignettes had aired, it was time for my mom to start wrestling again. I was sent to the SmackDown ring crew so I could witness, firsthand, my mom's transformation from female wrestler to superstar MILF.

***

It was time for my mom's first match under her new character. She was on the SmackDown show, but her match was not scheduled to be on television. She was working what is known as a 'dark match', a match that is used to test out new wrestlers and characters and also done to check if the cameras are working. Vince McMahon himself was seated near a monitor; eagerly awaiting my mother's match. Standing around him was a gaggle of writers. I was there too, in the shadows, waiting to see her in action.

The fans were seated in the arena. Already in the ring was Beth Phoenix; a 5'6, muscular blond woman who wore a black leotard and pants combo along with a shinny tiara. My mom's new entrance music started playing: it was a rip-off version of the Desperate Housewives theme. I inched myself closer to the monitor to get a good look at her as she came down the ring. Her hair was in a ponytail, she was wearing a light pink tank-top-like sports bra, her toned stomach exposed, along with snug-fitting pink sweatpants and jogging shoes. The sweatpants had 'HOT' written on the left side and 'MOM' on the right side.

She got in the ring, the bell rang and her match began. Vince was watching the match intently; he stayed silent during the whole six minutes of its duration. My mom won the match with a schoolgirl rollup. As she was celebrating her victory, Vince waggled his finger.

"Those pants, they need to go. They're covering her legs and that ass. She needs...short tiny shorts... with 'Hot Mom' written on each cheek." 

His yes-men writers nodded and agreed. "Yes Sir Mr. McMahan. Great idea. Good thinking Sir. Fantastic Idea."

"Ahem," I raised my voice as I creped out the shadows. I had something to say. "Sorry to interrupt Sir, but if you do that, you would cover her ass, you know, if she had decals on them, you won't get that good a look at it. Why not put her in a long jacket with the words 'Hot Mom' on it? No! A robe would be better. That way you get a good pop when she takes it off in the ring, an-and a proper view of her...ass...in shorts."

Vince and his writers stayed silent for a moment as they looked at me with blank expressions. Then, Vince scowled, looked at his writers and shouted: "Gawd dammit! He has more of a feel for this business than all you put together! Where are your ideas!? Huh!? Get out of my sight! All of you!" he stood up and waved his arms, shooing away his writers.

After the writers were gone, Vince approached me, put his hand on my shoulder, and said in a hushed tone, "You got a good feel for this business," his voice took a more deeper tone when he said, "But a really good feel -- for perversion!" he gave me a real hard slap on the back, then walked off.

Right after Vince had left, I saw my mom walking through the curtain. I pushed down my black hat and jogged over to her.

"Hey Tina."

She looked at me with a surprised expression, "Oh hey Hun. Did you just call me Tina?"

"My cover," I whispered. 

"Oh right gotcha. Now I'm playing a mom on TV, it be even worse if people found out who you are, huh?"

"Yeah. Good match out there."

"Thanks Hun, oh I never asked: what do you think of my new gimmick? I didn't want to do it at first, but when they told me it was Vince McMahon's own personal idea, well I had to take it, didn't I?"

As she continued to talk, my eyes wandered down to her glistening chest and sexy torso.

"I mean, Vince's own creation, that's a major honour. Undertaker was Vince's idea, so was Mankind, remember that? Oh and The Million Dollar Man -- umm, Hun? Hun...my face is up here."

"Wha -- I'm s-sorry," it's always embarrassing getting caught perving, but getting caught perving by your own mother? I was really embarrassed, my cheeks were bright red. I looked down at the floor, ashamed. 

"Hun, I better, umm, go change, yeah."

"Yeah, sure, see you later."

"Bye," she walked right past me, towards the locker rooms. I got a quick look at her backside as she walked off. Those pants really did make her ass look banging -- only problem was she probably knew I thought that. 

Expect for a few text messages, me and Mom didn't talk at all for a while after this incident. The official reason being our busy schedules, but the real reason was the fact that she felt so awkward being around me. I'd avoid her, I'm sure she was trying to avoid me too. It was for the best, I was cool with keeping my distance.

***

The following week, it was time for my mom's official TV comeback. She came down the ring, this time with the robe I suggested. It was blue and had a nice shiny cloth fabric, with the words 'HOT MOM' written on the back. She entered the ring, with her back to the camera, and got a huge cheer when she took the robe off. Her new shorts were made from the same fabric that her sweatpants were made from -- and they were incredibly tiny shorts, giving the appreciative crowd a fair bit of camel-toe. She wrestled Beth Phoenix again and beat her with the same finish: a roll-up. 

She wrestled two more matches over the following weeks (wins over Kelly Kelly and Tiffany) to get her ready for her big feud with Women's Champion Michelle McCool. After her win over Tiffany, my mom was shown backstage, bumping into Michelle McCool and her sidekick Layla, the two of them collectively known as Lay-Cool. They played the roles of two self-obsessed valley girls.

"Oh look Layla, it's the 'Hot Mom'," Michelle said sarcastically. Michelle McCool was a tall, slim, tanned, long-haired blonde woman who was wearing tight jeans and a long white tank-top with her WWE Women's title belt draped over her shoulder.

"Eww, what is she, like, fifty? Don't you have a bingo game to go to?" remarked Layla in her British accent. Layla El was a tasty, mocha skinned, 5'3, Moroccan beauty with a dynamite figure, medium-length dark brown hair, well-rounded breasts and a delicious derrière. She was wearing a long black shirt and tight blue jeans.

"I think she needs a --" Layla looked at Michelle as they both said in annoying unison: "Makeover!"

"I don't think that will work," said Layla.

"Yeah, I'm sure her uterus is all dried up. Why you even wrestling? You think at your ancient age you can get this?" Michelle flashed her Women's title, "Dream on honey, this business is only for women like me and Layla, women who are simply --" again they said in unison: "Flawless!"

My mom smirked, unfazed by their comments. "I see what's going on here. You think you girls and your cute little routine intimidate me? The fact you two have to come to me proves you're scared, scared I'll take that away from you," the crowd cheered as my mom pointed at Michelle's belt. "And you two may label me as 'old', but that's not what your boyfriends said: they value the experience I got." The crowd cheered louder as my mom smirked again at the two ladies. She then strode away confidently. The camera was left on Lay-Cool, both glaring angrily at my mother.

This led to a match the next week where my mother beat Michelle's sidekick Layla rather quickly and decisively. By virtue of her victory, my mom was given a Women's Championship match with Michelle McCool on Pay-Per-View. On the following week's show, my mom was given interview time to hype her match.

Josh Matthews, a brown-haired, short, suit wearing man, was handling the interview. 

"Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome my guest at this time: Tina Torrile." 

The camera panned down to my smiling mother, her hair professionally styled, wearing a denim jacket with a white shirt and black jeans.

"Tina, what are your thoughts going into your big Women's Championship match?"

"Well, Josh, Lay-Cool has bullied other women into feeling fat or old or whatever, they have broken other women with their insults, but not me. I'm above all that, you know why? Because I'm a mother -- that alone makes me tough. Josh, I'm going to do something their mothers should've done and that's whip those two girls' backsides as hard as I can!" The crowd cheered at the possibility of girl-on-girl spanking. "Michelle: At Night of Champions, I will become the first Hot Momma Women's Champion!"

The following Sunday was the match. My mom came down the ring first. She got a surprisingly loud reaction when she went into the ring and took her robe off. Michelle then came down the ring with her sidekick Layla, both wearing matching hoodies. Their names were written on the back of these hoods; they did a little choreographed dance at the entranceway then took them off. Michelle wore a shiny blue bikini-type top, along with matching short-shorts, blue kneepads and black boots; she also had several Christian crosses adorned all over her outfit. Layla wore tight jeans, black boots and a sexy form-fitting grey tank-top which had "Simply Flawless" written on the front.

When she entered the ring, McCool handed the belt to the referee. Mom and Michelle had an intense staredown before the bell, they got so close together that their boobs pressed against each others' -- which is always good. The bell rang, the match began. After a quick flurry of moves by Mom and Michelle, Michelle got her on the ground, then used a chin-lock to slow Mom down. While she was on the ground, my mom willed the audience along by shaking her arms. She eventually rose to her feet after she'd broken Michelle's chin-lock. 

"Tee-Nah! Tee-Nah! Tee-Nah! Tee-Nah! Tee-Nah!" The crowd was chanting for my mom. I was pretty surprised how into the match the crowd was. After Mom rose to her feet, she and Michelle had some more exchanges. Turning the tide, my mom laid some quick jabs on Michelle's face, but Michelle was quickly able to turn the advantage by booting my mom in the gut. McCool hit my mom with a DDT, went for a cover, but my mom kicked out. McCool then picked her up, whipped her into the corner, taunted the crowd and went for a running kick. My mom manoeuvred away from Michelle's boot, sidestepped the kick, grabbed Michelle and went for a quick-roll up, but the champ was able to kick out.

My mom started to slap her hands together, willing the crowd to do the same. As the crowd clapped along, my mom kicked Michelle in the gut, dragged her to the centre of the ring, put her in a front headlock, grabbed her shorts, lifted her up, then slammed Michelle's head down to the ground: this move is known as the brainbuster and it is not commonly used in the WWE, especially by female wrestlers. The crowd gasped at the high-impact move, my mom pinned McCool, the referee counted the cover, but before he got to three, Layla grabbed Michelle's foot and put it on the ropes, thus negating the pinfall. 




WrestleMom Ch. 02



Mom stood up and gave Layla a swift kick down to her face; the crowd cheered loudly at this. My mom stood behind Michelle, waited for her to get up; when she did, my mom ran to her, spun around and hit her with a precise elbow strike to the face. She grabbed Michelle by her head, got her to her feet, in position for another brainbuster. At that moment, Layla went on the ring apron and stared shouting at the ref. My mom dropped Michelle, went to go hit Layla, but she jumped off the apron before my mom could strike. Then, suddenly, Michelle grabbed my mom by the waist, rolled her over, grabbed her shorts, (exposing some of Mom's ass in the process) and pinned her 1...2...3. The match was over: Michelle had retained her title -- with much assistance, of course.

In wrestling, losing doesn't necessarily mean defeat, indeed, as my mom had really gained a lot from the contest. After the match, sections of the crowd stood up and gave my mom a standing ovation -- something unheard of for most WWE women's matches. When she got to the back, some of the wrestlers and staffers gave her a round of applause. She seemed really pleased with how things went. Later that night I sent her a text message: 

"Great match. We all know you're the best women's wrestler in the WWE. I'm glad that now everyone knows it too."

She sent a reply saying: "Thanks Hun, I enjoyed it alot, even if Michelle took most of the credit :P." 

After that match, I noticed a surge in my mom's popularity. During the next set of house shows, I spotted signs in the crowd, signs such as: ""Tina 3:16" "Moms 4 Tina" "I wish Tina was my mom!" "I've been a bad boy Tina. Spank me please!" 

More amazingly, my mom's character had actually gotten some positive media attention (positive media attention being rare in an industry which has no unions, pensions, healthcare, many drug scandals and a very high mortality rate.) Publications such as The USA Today gave much praise to my mom. They wrote: "Tina Torrile portrays the role of a hard-working, fit, active, confident mother, who is a good role model for all females of all ages -- a far improvement over the vapid silicon-enhanced blond bimbos that have ruled the wrestling world for aeons."

I was more amazed than most with the positive press, as I knew full-well my mother's character was not at all designed to be a role model for girls and women across the world: the intention of the character was that she was a fantasy for males who loved the whole notion of a hot mom, with these guys motivated to have incest-fuelled fantasies of Tina as their own mother, hence the nicknames "Dream Mom, Your Mom," etc. 

During The USA Today piece, I was mentioned. Some stuff written about me was dead wrong. They said I was 15, not 18 and said my name was Lloyd, not Louis. I get why WWE lied about my age (people would doubt my mom being 34 if she had a son that was as old as me) but getting my name wrong? I won't lie: I was a little ticked-off.

***

Two weeks had passed since the P.P.V match. My mom had been given victories on television to prepare her for an eventual title rematch with Michelle McCool. On the first week, Mom pinned Rosa Mendes, second week she teamed with Kelly Kelly to beat the team of Lay-Cool, with my mom pinning Michelle.

It was the day before a SmackDown TV taping. I was in my hotel room, looking through the wrestling news websites. As I scrolled through the gossip, I found a piece of news that almost knocked me off my chair:

"It looks like Tina's son, Lloyd, is going to be appearing on television soon. He will be worked into the Tina/Michelle McCool program."

The thought of me, on television, in segments with the smoking-hot Lay-Cool made me mega-excited -- and very nervous. I immediately grabbed the nearest razor and shaved all the stubble off my face so I could look as fresh-faced as possible for the role. When I got to the arena, I got a text message from Vince's Assistant:

"Come to the production meeting."

The production meeting is where the shows are planned out. Only those of high importance are allowed inside a production meeting: I was really pumped up. I found the room, entered inside, but all my enthusiasm quickly faded when I saw who was at the head of the table: Michael, fucking, Hayes. 

For those of you that don't remember, Michael Hayes was the asshole that tricked me into peeking on my mom. Of course, I did enjoy it, but that jerkoff had malicious intent behind me doing that. He was a big, tall, heavy guy, in his mid-50's, long, messy blond hair, flesh-coloured beard, with a scraggly southern accent, wearing a fucking black leather duster jacket. He was a very hateable man. I pushed my hat down in the hope that he wouldn't recognize me, but then suddenly remembered that I was texted to be there to play MYSELF on television. I looked around the room, I saw some familiar faces: Stephanie McMahon, Kevin Dunn, Johnny Ace, Triple H, a bunch of writers I recognized, all those guys but no Vince. 

"Okay, let's go over tonight's show," said Hayes.

I went to the back of the room and tried not to draw attention to myself. After he had talked about most of the show, my mom's segment came up on the agenda.

"Okay, for Tina we got a segment with Layla and Michelle; her son will be in it."

I almost stood up, but stopped when Hayes said his next sentence.

"Her son, who's being played by an actor."

My heart fell when I heard him say that. An actor was going to be playing me on television. Before I could even think about that, Hayes pointed at me. My heart suddenly restarted.

"You, ring guy, see that box?"

I looked behind me and saw a large box of WWE clothing. I looked at him and nodded.

"Good, you're in charge of getting that actor ready, pick something out for him, dress him like a mark."

I quickly grabbed the box and, not wanting to disturb their meeting, took it outside. As I looked through the box, picking which shirt and pants I wanted the actor playing me wearing, I thought about Vince's plan and how this was part of it. We never discussed me or anyone else playing the role of her son on TV, this was something he came up with by himself. I wanted to ask him directly what was going on, but since he was not in the arena, I could not do that. One of the production guys told me where the actor was, so I grabbed the clothes and went to go meet him.

After a short walk, I saw someone sitting on a crate, going over a script. I wasn't sure if he was the guy, so I approached him quietly.

"Ahem, umm, hey man, you part of the show?"

He looked at me then jumped off the crate. "Oh hello there: Yes, my name is Troy, I am playing the role of Lloyd."

The first thing I noticed was how short this dude was. He had to be 5'4, only slightly taller than my mom, even I towered over him. He was light too, around 110 pounds I would say. He had short freshly-cut blond hair, a hairless face, was slightly tanned, a pointy noise, thin lips, seemed to work out a little as he had a slightly muscular frame, wearing a tight polo shirt with beige slacks. Apart from his physical attributes, the most distinguishing feature of him was his voice. He had a low-pitched, almost regal sounding voice, like he had just come from the family estate in Greenwich. I could tell he was the total opposite of me in every way.

"Umm, here's the clothes they want you to wear," I handed him an orange John Cena shirt, baggy blue jeans, along with a matching John Cena trucker hat. I wanted him to look as stupid as possible, just to spite him a little.

"Right," he grabbed the clothes and looked through them. "I must say, this is a tad embarrassing, but I was just such a fan in my younger days. Are Stone Cold and Rock anywhere around? I would just love to meet them."

"Umm, Stone Cold and The Rock have been gone for years, dude."

"That's a shame...well, I'll just go put these on then come back here, correct?"

"Yeah, just like that."

"Right-O, thank you for the help." He went off to go get changed.

I exited the area after I gave him his clothes. I didn't get to watch the segment get taped, I had to wait like everyone else and watch it on TV. During the interim, I went online and did some snooping on Troy. He was 22, was from some New York acting school, and like I suspected, was from Greenwich, Connecticut. I also got a text message from Vince, it read: "Stay distant. Don't want to be seen. People may get curious." From what I could tell from the text, he wanted me to stay away from him because some people may suss out who I am. Well anyway, I tuned in on Friday night to watch the segment.

My mom was shown walking backstage, in her ring gear and robe, as she was walking, she bumped into Troy.

"Oh hey Son, you doing ok backstage by yourself?" 

"Hey Mom!" Troy was wearing the clothes I had given him. He had made his voice sound higher, more childlike. "This place is awesome! I met Rey Mysterio, he was so cool!"

"Ok baby," she said with a smile, "Just try not to get lost."

"Sure Mom. Good luck out there."

After my mom had walked off screen, the camera panned to the left and showed Layla and Michelle, both looking at each other with sneaky glances. In the ring, my mom teamed with Kelly Kelly to beat Lay-Cool, with my mom pinning Layla. Next week's show is where things really started rolling.

Troy was shown backstage, still wearing the same clothes I'd given him the previous week. All of a sudden, Lay-Cool showed up and surprised him.

"Hey Lloyd," they said in unison, both wearing sexy tight black tank-tops with tight black jeans.

"Umm, hi," he replied nervously.

"We've seen you around, you're Tina's son, right?" asked Michelle.

"Y-yeah I am."

"Well, we had to come see you, because, well, she doesn't want me saying this, but Layla thinks you're cute."

"Oh my God, Michelle!" Layla did a mock-surprise face. "How could you say that!? I'm so embarrassed." She looked down at the ground, then looked at Troy. She coyly fluttered her eyelids at him.

"Oh, here comes his mom, let's go." Michelle grabbed Layla by her arm and briskly paced away. Layla gave a seductive stare to Troy as she left.

My mom walked on screen, in her robe, and asked, "What did those two girls want?"

"N-nothing Mom."

"Well, you stay away from them: those two are nothing but bad news."

The camera was left lingering on my mom and Troy as the show went to commercial.

The following week, Troy was backstage, hanging with Lay-Cool. The ladies were wearing matching white tank-tops which had "Flawless!" written on them, along with tight, shiny black shorts. Michelle was leaning against some crates while Layla was holding Troy's arm, really cosying up to him. 

"You're so awesome Lloyd," said Layla -- my jealousy raging furiously as I watched her rub against him. "So funny, and, like, so cool."

"No offense," said Michelle, "We think you're cool, but your mom is lame."

"Yeah! Mega-lame!" but-in Layla, "She runs around in those little tiny sports bras and those little tiny shorts? Eww, right Michelle?"

"Mega-eww. She should act her age, she's your mom, Lloyd, seeing her run around in her underwear makes you just want to die of embarrassment, right?"

"Well...kinda," he mumbled.

"Well, if she was my mom, I'd just tell her to stop." Michelle paused to think for a second. "Ok: Real Talk. I don't think she even cares about you, I mean, what kind of mom goes around, hooking up with random guys on the beach then takes them home with them?"

"Yeah!" agreed Layla.

"Right, Lay? She don't care how you feel Lloyd, she's so selfish!"

"What're you doing!" shouted my mom from off-screen. She walked on camera, wearing a blue shirt and denim jeans.

"Oh, we better go," said Michelle.

"No, you guys," said Troy, "You guys ca-can stay."

"Son! No! I don't want you seeing these girls."

"Come on, Mom. Don't embarrass me."

Layla touched his shoulder and spoke softly, "It's okay baby, we'll see you soon." The two ladies smirked at my mom as they walked off.

Mom gave a cross look to Troy. "Son, can't you see they're using you!?"

Troy looked down at the floor, "I-I don't wanna talk about it." He then ran off, with the camera left on my mom's worried expression.

On the next show, the one before the P.P.V, my mom was given interview time.

"Ladies and Gentleman, please welcome my guest at this time: Tina Torrile. Tina, what are your thoughts going into this Sunday's match?"

"You know Josh, Lay-Cool really doesn't have any morals or dignity. They are now making this issue so personal, that they're involving my son: my son!" Mom paused for effect. She then looked at the camera with a fierce expression. "Michelle, Layla: the worst thing you can do to a mother is mess with her children, so come this Sunday, I will show you the wrath this mother has."

Later on that show, my mom had a quick match with a local women's wrestler, which she won with the brainbuster. After that match, a segment aired that featured Lay-Cool and Troy.

"I can't believe I have to defend my title again against Tina," said Michelle while looking at her belt.

Layla agreed: "Yeah! She lost! She's a loser, she don't deserve another shot," Layla then looked at Troy and giggled, "No offense, Lloyd."

"You think I'm gonna win, right, Lloyd?" 

"Well, umm, well, you know, my mom's pretty good."

"Yeah. You know, if I keep my title, which I will, I think Layla will give you a kiss."

Troy turned his head to Michelle. He smiled like all his Christmases had come at once. Layla, on the other hand, vigorously shook her head, but smiled when Troy looked at her.

"Umm, yeah, sure baby, maybe one kiss if Michelle wins." Layla gave a deadly stare at Michelle, mouthing the word "no" behind Troy's back. The segment then ended.

Going into the pay-per-view, the big question was what Lloyd would do. Layla had been ejected from ringside right at the start of the match, so Michelle had no backup. Towards the end of the match, Troy came down to ringside. Unsurprisingly, as my mom was running the ropes, Troy tripped her up, which allowed Michelle to deliver a quick boot to Mom's face for the win. Afterwards, there was a backstage interview with Lay-Cool and Troy.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I am here with --"

"Oh shut up Josh," Michelle grabbed the microphone and shoved him away. "That's right everybody~, I'm still the champ, and we are all still --"

"Flawless!" they said in three-way unison.

"Hey, hey, can I get my kiss now?"

Layla looked really hesitant.

"Go on Layla, do it," said Michelle in a cheery voice. "Go on, do it, do it, do it!"

Troy pushed his cheek out. You can imagine how jealous I was when I saw Layla plant a quick peck on Troy's cheek. 

"Yay!" said Michelle as Layla turned her head and wiped her mouth. "Tina, go back to your bake sales Honey, 'cause this title is staying with me!"

On the next house show, my mom was teaming with Kelly Kelly, a 5'6, well-breasted young blonde women who had a smoking hot body and an occasional blank stare. Of course, they were going against Lay-Cool, who had their new member, Troy, in their corner. Towards the end of this match, Troy ran into the ring and was then confronted by my mom; Lay-Cool couldn't save him this time as Kelly had wiped them out with a dive to the floor. My mom grabbed Troy by his shoulders, turned him around, pulled his pants down, gently shoved him, got on one knee, put him on her knee and began spanking him!

A moment of clarity hit me as I watched my mom spank the storyline version of me: I knew exactly why Vince wanted her son to be on TV: it was so he could watch stuff like this: watching a son get spanked by his hot mom. I could see some camera people down below recording the show, probably for Vince's benefit. It all made perfect sense.

"Ow, it hurts, it hurts! Mummy, it hurts! Please stop! Stop!"

"Bad boy, bad boy! Very bad boy!"

They were so loud with the slaps and naughty talk, that I could hear them perfectly from my balcony vantage point. For her last spank, my mom licked her hand, looked at the crowd, then slapped his ass real hard. Layla then came rushing into the ring, towards my mom, and got pinned after being hit with the brainbuster. 

When I got backstage, I saw Troy and Mom laughing around together, probably all giddy after the spanking. I thought a guy like Troy would be all uppity about being spanked in front of a large crowd, but he seemed cool with it. They did that routine on all the house shows for a couple weeks, though never on TV as it didn't fit WWE's P.G standards.

All in all, if I think about it, giving my mom that character was the best thing that could've happened for her career. She got to be a featured performer on television, got on pay-per-views and was a regular on house shows. She'd also become far more popular and got WWE some positive press. Overall, the character worked out great for everyone involved.

***

Three weeks later

At this point, my mom's storyline had run its course. Troy had become Lay-Cool's sidekick while my mom took a backseat as Kelly Kelly was pushed into the role of title challenger. It was a Tuesday. I was in Waco, Texas, doing my-now-all-too-familiar ring crew duties. While I was working, I got a call from an unknown phone number.

"Hello?"

"Hello." The voice sounded familiar yet I couldn't pinpoint whom it was.

"Umm, hey, who's this?"

"It's me: Vince." He sounded pretty strange, real mellow, which is exactly the opposite of the Vince I know.

"Yeah, umm, so how are things?"

"Couldn't be better! Hey, hey, you should come to my office, I got something for ya."

"O-okay."

"Bye, Louis."

After he hung up, I looked around for his office, found it, and knocked on the door.

"Come on in!" he said in a cheery voice.

I opened the door and was surprised by what I saw: Vince McMahon, sitting at his desk, his suit-jacket placed neatly on the nearby chair, wearing a clean grey dress-shirt, looking through some papers, with an honest-to-goodness smile on his face. Bright sunlight was pouring into the room. He had a calm aura all around him. He looked far different from the rage-filled always-stressed workaholic man I was accustomed to.

"Louis!" he got off his chair, approached me and gave me a hug.

"Umm, hello, Sir." As you can tell, I was pretty surprised by this sudden change in personality. 

"Come, I got something for ya!" 

I followed him to his desk. He sat on his cushioned chair while I stood in front of him. Bizarrely, he turned his chair to the left and then looked out at the scenery. Ahead of him was a green field, with a river in the distance.

"Ahh," he let out a happy, content sigh. "I have seen many things in my life...many things."

"Okay..."

"So many things. Some you won't believe...you know how many responsibilities I have running this multi-millionaire dollar empire? -- which I created."

"Lots Sir, I can't even imagine."

"Yes, it's tremendously tough, tremendously. But then, something reminds you why it's all worthwhile...let me ask you something, Louis: have you ever seen Trish Stratus naked?"

"Umm, no I haven't..."

"Well, I have: it was magnificent. I haven't felt this good in, well, in years! Moments like these make everything, everything, worthwhile."

"Ok..." I had not even the slightest clue what he was talking about.

He swivelled his chair towards my direction. "Ah, Louis: I'm about to tell you a secret that you must not tell anyone. Agreed?"

"Ok Sir, I swear I won't tell anyone."

"Ah, you won't tell anyone, so I got nothing to be afraid of. Well, Louis, you ever wonder how I knew about you...you know...what's the correct term? You know, finger-fucking your mom in the hotel?"

"Y-Yes Sir, I did wonder."

"Well, here's how: I have guys. Guys that go around, blending into the background, these guys, they keep an eye on people of interest to me, people like you, Louis. I had a guy following you around; of course you never knew this. Their job is to observe, not interfere, as getting involved will expose them, though they do cover up things, things you won't believe, even covered up things I've done. You understand?"




WrestleMom Ch. 03



Copyright © 2011, Surt, ALL Rights Reserved.

There is no need to read 'WrestleMom Ch.01 & Ch.02' as everything relevant to this story is explained at the start, though it is recommended as you will have a better understanding of what's going on. Feedback is always appreciated and replied to. Everyone in this story is at least eighteen-years-old. Thanks for reading and enjoy. The Celebrity Templates are:

Leah Remini as Tina Torrile. (Though it should be noted that all the wrestling personalities mentioned are actual real life people.) 

***

"Hello? Vince: I want in."

"Huh? What? Who is this?

"Lou!"

"Huh? You? Whada ya want? Huh? Whada ya mean 'you want in'!? Huh!? Whatda ya mean you want in!?"

I was surprised at his reaction, very surprised. The last time I saw him he looked like the damn-near happiest man on Earth. It was as if someone had hit a switch and completely changed his mood. Regardless, I carried on.

"You know...My mom...that stuff. I want to take it further."

"What the FUCK are you trying to say!?" he snarled down the phone. 

So intimidated was I that the next words out of my mouth made absolutely no sense: "Ahhh, sex me Mom --"

"Shadup! Who do you think you are? Huh? Asking me for that!? No! NO! You sick, filthy little...argh! I don't need this crap! Just fuck off, fuck off!" he smashed the phone against his desk to let me know he was done talking. I kept hold of the phone, hoping that the dull ringing tone would help me understand what had happened, all the while staring at the TV, watching my mom have full-on mother-son roleplay sex with the guy that was playing her son (me) on television. Well, for first timers, I got lots of explaining to do, so let me try to do it as quick as I can. Here we go! 

***

I'm Louis Torrile, otherwise known as Lou. Just an average 18-year-old Italian-American from New York, nothing special. My mom on the other hand, she is: she is a pro-wrestler.

My mom is Tina Torrile; she's 5'3, a toned 125 lbs, has tight buns, peachy boobs, golden brown hair and a warm, motherly demeanour. My 34-year-old mom is a hottie, no doubt, which I have no problem admitting. I like to see her get down and dirty, I take pleasure in seeing her in states of undress, which is okay as she never really raised me, she spent most of her time touring the world as a professional wrestler. Well, that's my justification for some pretty bad stuff I've done to her.

Deep breath now: recent happenings include me being hired as a ring-crew guy for the WWE (the company she works for); being tricked into seeing my mom in the shower by mid-south wrestling legend (and world-class asshole) Michael P.S Hayes; meeting Vince McMahon and have him take an interest in me and my mom's relationship; watching my mom do a sexy photoshoot in Spain; meeting a British massage therapist who talked me into "massaging" my mom; giving my mom the rubdown and finger-banging of her life!; getting shouted at by Vince for touching up my mom; becoming friendly with Vince after I told him sexy ideas for my mom; secretly supplied Vince with ideas and storylines for my mom; watched my mom's debut match as "The Sexy Mom" character I made for her; caused a huge rift between us when she caught me checking her out; watched on as a character called Lloyd Torrile got introduced as her T.V son; got super pissed off seeing the fake T.V me get rubbed by Layla El!; saw fake me turn heel (bad guy) on my mom and side with the badies and, finally; was given a DVD by Vince McMahon himself which contained my mom and the actor playing me having full-on mother-son roleplay sex! Now that you're up to speed, let's go back to the action.

***

2.7. That was the rating the previous Monday's Raw had gotten. A quite low rating, markedly lower than the previous week. That's what got Vince off his rocker. I found out about the rating when I came to the building. Everyone from staffers, talent, to crew was whispering about it. What set off this wave of panic was that the ratings number boarded a range WWE had not approached in many, many years: the mid-two range. Alarmists in the organisation were blowing it up like it was a huge deal, though the overall opinion shared by many, including me, took it as a one-off. Ratings had been steadily slipping for a while; this was no real indication of a huge negative turnaround in business. 

After the show was done, I saw Vince walking back to his office. I was standing a safe distance away from him, peeking behind a crate. He had his jacket in his hand, wearing a sweat-stained loose blue shirt, doing his famous power-walk. He looked beaten, tired, all the pressure of the company brought down onto his broad shoulders. A staffer approached him, holding a clipboard.

"Vince? Could you look at this?"

Vince shoved him hard with his free hand, tossing the staffer to the floor. The hall gasped, Vince trudged on, not taking a second glance. 

I was there during this whole troubled time, seeing and hearing everything happen, more so in the middle of it as the show I was on taped on Tuesdays, meaning we'd be the ones to see (and feel) the owner's wrath. Major changes were needed, as it was not just the Raw show that was underperforming: The SmackDown show was falling deeper and deeper into irrelevancy, the NXT show failed, demoted to the internet, and the WWE's 4th show, SuperStars, was watched by 12 people at most. Worldwide interest in the WWE had also gone down: live event attendance was down globally, DVD sales were down, pay-per-view buyrates were way, way down, basically the entire core business was sliding downward. (I swear this gets pornographic eventually!)

The next week the show drew a 2.9. Collective sighs of relief. That didn't last. The show the week after drew another 2.7. The company was in code red, talks of cuts, changes and reshufflings spread like wildfire. The WWE then went into full-on blood red panic mode when the following week's rating confirmed they had a serious problem: 2.5. 

After the news of the 2.5, a major meeting was held after the SmackDown taping. I, with a couple of the other crew guys, stood by the door to hear the going's on.

"We need a turnaround!" shouted Vince. "We need to shake things up! Now! Now! I want ideas; I want them now, gawd dammit! None of you leave this room without giving me one idea that will turnaround business!"

Us crew guys were shooed away quite quickly by the security guys. We then went back to our jobs. 

Two days later the culprit of the business downturn had been named: The P.G product. The P.G direction limited what WWE could do in terms of pushing the envelope, but was considered necessary to keep important sponsors appeased. The solution? Make one show P.G and the other TV14. Raw was to be the TV14 show, SmackDown the P.G show. Raw would go back to pushing the envelope, SmackDown would keep the statuesque. Massive changes were made right away, the biggest of which was most of the writing crew being fired, and yes that included Michael Hayes (yay!). A draft which would shake-up the rosters was also announced. 

How I figured into all this? I'll explain. I was at the SmackDown taping, doing my usual duties. While sitting around, watching the show, a stagehand approached me.

"Louis, Mr. McMahon wants to see you."

Gulp. "Me?" I was nervous as heck for many reasons. One, it had been over a month since Vince slipped me a DVD of my mom having sex with 22-year-old Troy, the actor who played her son on television and, secondly, the last time me and Vince spoke it ended with a telephone being battered over a table. I thought for sure this was the end for me.

"Yes, you better go right away, he's waiting."

I got my legs to stop shaking, wandered around the arena, found his office and entered inside. He was sitting behind a catering table, glasses on, wearing a clean blue shirt.

"Ah! Lou my boy! How ya doing!"

"F-fine, Sir."

"Oh no 'Sir' with me! It's just Vince."

"Yes, Vince."

"Come, come," he waved me over. 

I was quite jittery, praying this nice-guy Vince was not about to hit me with a swerve-turn.

"Louis, I've been getting the opinions of many, many and all on how we should re-launch Raw. I know you've got a good mind for the business, you came up with those vignettes for your mother, those were really good, so I wanted your input. Any ideas?"

"Umm..." It just so happened that I had an idea floating around in my head. "Sir, I mean, Vince, I do have an idea, but it's a little risky. May I?" feeling like I could better express the idea in a written format, I grabbed a piece of paper, jotted down my idea and then showed it to him.

"Hmm...that's, that's wonderful!"

"Hold on Sir," I added a little more to it.

"That's incredible! That's something I would think up! It's perfect! It's edgy, aggressive, counter-culture, I like it, no, I love it! You just gave me the opening to my show!" he grabbed my hand and shook it. "Hahaha! Well done! Well done!"

***

I should mention what was going on with my mom and me during this whole time period. Well, not a whole hell of a lot. After living in Florida for such a prolonged period of time, Mom bought a house there. As for me, I moved out of my Aunt and Uncle's place and got me an apartment in New York City. Me and Mom talked on the phone, mostly texts, we'd nod to each other in the arenas, no full-blown conversations because I didn't wanna blow my cover (not wanting anyone in the company to know I'm her real son). Conversations were a bit awkward; I don't think she was quite over the fact that she caught me checking her out, and also, I'd just found out she was into mother-son roleplay sex. That would've been an awkward conversation: "Hey Mom, I saw you get spanked by that guy who plays me on television, yeah, you seemed to be really into the whole "mom-son" thing, yep, and by the way, I think you're really hot." You can see why our face-to-face meetings would be so brief. 

I thought about telling Mom that I saw her have sex with Troy, but since telling her could've got me and Vince in trouble, I considered the issue closed. It is her sex life after all; she can feel free to ride her roleplay son and pretend to his mom. By the way, they canned Troy after his heel turn, good riddance I say, never liked the guy. Didn't ask Mom if she still saw him, it would have been a weird conversation. Though I did still keep the DVD and watched it occasionally for my own personal enjoyment. Gotta say that my mom is a hot, tight babe when she's riding! Ahem, well anyway, moving on. On TV, Mom was playing a second-fiddle role, a shame really, considering how massively popular she was for a short period of time, just when that wrestling MILF character was blowing up. Well, with that wrapped-up, let's go right back to ringside!

***

It was time for the new, edgy version of Monday Night Raw to be unveiled. Because my angle was being used, I was allowed into the arena. The show opened with a more aggressive theme song, louder pyro and a new logo. After the announcers welcomed the viewers, Kelly Kelly's music started playing. "Holla, holla, holla!"

"Ohhh! Kelly! Kelly!" shouted overly-excited commentator Jerry Lawler.

Out she came, the tight-bodied, jiggly breasted, perfectly-formed, blonde, blank-faced beauty that is Kelly Kelly. She was wearing a pink sports-bra-type top and black track pants. She sauntered into the ring and grabbed the microphone.

"What's up Chicago!? Yeah!"

The crowd cheered for their chosen city.

"Welcome to Monday Night Raw! Woo! Yeah! Now on Raw, there's no more P.G, no more holding back, but before you all get too excited, I just got word from the censors: they saw what we got planned and want us to tone it down."

"Boo! Boo!" shouted the crowd.

"Well, to those censors, I only got one thing to say..."

She turned her back to the camera, did a little wiggle, then tore off her track pants to reveal her thong-adorned bare behind. 

"Kiss my ass!"

The predominantly male crowd was whipped into a frenzy, cheering at the sight of her tight sexy buns. On commentary, the announcers were screaming over each other.

"Lookit Jerry! Lookit! Kelly's, Kelly's butt!"

"Oh my God, Cole, oh my God! Ohhh I love Raw, I love Raw!"

Kelly walked back up the ramp and tagged hands with fans, the camera tailing her delicious butt. Then, Kelly got to the top of the ramp, turned around and spoke into her microphone:

"And for the benefit of those that speak Spanish!"

Rosa Mendes, a shapely, sensual, raven-haired Latina woman, wearing a red shirt and long skirt, was holding a mic as she shimmied on screen. She turned her back to the crowd, grabbed her skirt and ripped it off to reveal her juicy bare ass.

"Bésame el culo!"

The girls hugged, then, walked off stage, creamy and mocha butt-cheeks sashaying to commercial. The blood-strewn, profanity-laced -- and most importantly -- focused product received rave reviews. After the show was over, everyone backstage was buzzing with excitement. Vince saw me and patted me on the shoulder.

"Excellent work! That opening set the tone perfectly, perfectly."

"Thank you, Sir."

His mood turned slightly more sombre, "Lou, I want to talk to you about something. Let's sit down."

Uh-oh, this did not sound good. We sat down.

"Louis, I don't want you giving me ideas anymore, as a crew guy."

"Oh, ok."

"I want you working full-time as one of our writers."

I was stone-cold stunned! "Vince, I, I --"

"Now let me finish: I want you booking the entire Raw women's division. Full creative control, all the angles, all of them by you. Lou, I want you in this role because I know, without a shadow of doubt, that you are the biggest pervert I have met in my entire life."

I was both honoured and shamed. "Vince, I'm, I'm...of course I want to do it, but won't people know I'm my mom's son? You know what I mean?"

"I thought about that and I assure you, you got nothing to worry about. Only me and Hayes know who you are, and Hayes is gone, plus the whole writing crew is new, fresh. I suspect you don't want your mother knowing your part of the writing team? I can make that happen; she just doesn't have to see you, we'll give you a new name and everything, nothing to worry about, I have your back."

"Thank you, Sir...but why me?"

Vince shuffled forward and spoke with the upmost seriousness. "Lou, I don't want "rasslin" people: I want people like you. Your credentials speak for themselves, I mean, by gawd you finger-fucked your own mother! Which I disagree with, but I admire the balls you shown. Hell, why won't I want you on my team!?"

I almost jumped out of my seat when I said: "Done! I'm in Sir!"

"Great! I'm sure you got some ideas brewing already!"

"I do, Sir. Like, umm, remember those vignette ideas I gave about my mom? The ones that were too risky for P.G? I think we should film them now!"

"Yes! Tomorrow, you fly down to Stamford and you tell those production people yourself what you want!"

"Yes, Sir!"

***

What a quick turnaround it all was: just that night I went from travelling down cold, dark roads to flying in style on WWE's private plane, onward to Stamford, Connecticut, where the WWE headquarters were located. I was sitting with a couple other writers. We were given instructions not to intermingle with each other's work, mostly because Vince knew my ideas would not work with a committee. I looked just looked like the other writers; youngish, trimmed hair, I was a little more tan than the others, but none of us had ladies swooning, I'm sure. 

When the clock hit 2am, most of those writers were sleeping in their big private jet seats. While they did that, I was busy looking over my new Raw Divas roster. While scanning the list, I noticed my mom's name was not on any of the rosters. Concerned, I sent her a quick text:

"Hey Mom. I was over at wwe.com and saw that you were not in the draft. What's up with that?"

I got a reply five minutes later:

"Hey Hun. I was told they were not sure what show to put me on. I think this is it for me, time to wrap things up. I asked around and think I can get a job as an instructor. This looks like the end. :-("

This I could not have. I had so much more I could do with my mom. So I stood up and made the gutsy decision to speak to Vince. He was half-sleeping, half-sitting on a couch, scribbling slowly on a notepad

"Sir, sorry to disturb you, it's just that I texted my mom and she said she's not been told which show she's on."

"Ohh, umm, you wanted her on Raw, didn't you?"

"Yes, Sir."

"She's on Raw." He raised his voice to shout at his writers, "Hey! Tina's on Raw."

They half-heartedly grumbled in response.

"Hey!" Vince grabbed a book and threw it in their direction, "Dammit one of you write that down: Tina's on Raw! Let her know."

They quickly awoke and typed on their laptops.

"Thank you, Sir," I said.

"Ohh, umm, don't worry about it, kid." He went back to what I assume was sleep.

Next morning, my mom sent me this message.

"Hey Hun! Your momma is not retired yet! I'm on RAW! No way am I hanging it up with a chance to work on The Big-Time Show!! :-D" (Yes, my mom used emoticons.)

***

To fully embrace my new writer role, I needed to make damn sure my mom didn't find out that I was to be the one in charge of her storylines. I worried that she might see me in the open, around the other writers, quickly able to put two-and-two together, but I had a plan: I okayed it with Vince to never interact with any of the wrestlers, effectively staying out of sight. As far as my mom knew, I was still a crew guy. I also decided that I could no longer be Louis Torrile. I needed a new name. So, from that day on, after that day, the day after that, I became Bruno Bocelli! (Named after my uncle's favourite wrestler and my aunt's favourite singer). 

When the plane touched down in Stamford, ideas and scenarios had been formed around my complete women's roster, which included Tina Torrile, Melina, The Bella Twins, Eve Torres, Maryse, Kelly Kelly, Rosa Mendes and Alicia Fox. My mom was to not be on TV right away, she was down in Tampa filming new, sexier vignettes, reintroducing her as the Hot Mom character.

Taking my new assignment seriously, I made sweeping, drastic changes to the women's division. Thinking as a guy watching on television, I asked myself why would I want to see these hot women perform suplexes, punches and kicks? I'd much rather see them get down and dirty -- together. Boobs rubbing, asses grazing, lips touching, that's what I want to see! So, instead of having these women go out and perform moves which could hurt or injure them, why not give them a style which is both crowd-pleasing and much safer to their bodies? With all that in mind, I decided that ground-fighting was to be the new model for the Raw divas! I planned these matches out to be entertaining to both perverts and wrestling fans, as the style would be unique to anything else on the show. The impetus was Divas Champion Eve Torres. A legit Jiu-Jitsu practitioner, she was an excellent standard-bearer for the new direction. I also made a few more rules for the women: they were not allowed to wear elbow pads, knee pads, wrist tape, shoes or overly-constrictive clothing. Being as exposed as possible would make these matches a much more intimate experience. With the changes in place, it was time to implement them and make my fantasies come true!

***

On the first show with me in charge, out came the Divas Champion Eve Torres. No more boots, wrestling gear and obstructive clothing, she was there in as much glory as we could get away with: her mouth-watering bronzed body in a tiny purple tight tank top and figure-hugging short shorts, her stunning, exotic looks complementing the whole package. That right there was a woman no hereto man would change the channel from.




WrestleMom Ch. 03



Her opponent, Melina, a dark-haired, flexible Latina, came out in a well-stacked sports-bra-type top and track pants. I saw her wear this attire once before and, to my amazement, she never wore it again, so I brought it back for this show, that and making the cameramen focus on her tight butt when she did her splits into the ring entrance.

When the bell rang, Eve jumped up, grabbed Melina by the back of her neck and pulled Melina on top of her. Eve had her legs wrapped around Melina, panting on the floor, while Melina lay on top, her face in Eve's supple breasts. They stayed in that position, wriggling around, dry-humping for a good three-to-four minutes. They traded the advantage, Melina on top, then Eve, sweaty mocha bodies rolling around, grunting and groaning. "Uhh! Ahhh! Huff, huff, huff": those beautiful sounds filled the arena. Eventually, after a good, long struggle, Eve won the match with a straight armbar. 

The live audiences' reaction was subdued, which was to be expected. What really mattered was the ratings numbers. The next day I found out that the overall ratings had gone up; the women's segment added and retained a good number of people. I'd done my job well.

Next week, Alicia Fox, a frizzy-haired, sassy, tall, slender, light-skinned black woman, did an interview where she noted she'd been doing some jiu-jitsu training of her own and she was going to show the results of her training -- tonight. Out she came to the ring in a grey tank top and tiny shorts, those long legs looking so fine all bare and exposed. Her opponent was the aforementioned Kelly Kelly, wearing a shiny pink top and shorts. The match didn't last long; Alicia pulled Kelly on top of her, they wriggled for a bit, Alicia's long legs holding Kelly in the guard position. Then, at the six-minute mark, Alicia wrapped her legs around Kelly's head, encircling them around Kelly's neck, squeezing her legs hard, Alicia shoving Kelly's head down onto her vagina: this was the submission hold known as the triangle choke. Kelly tapped out right away.

"What a move! I think that's called a triangular choke!" said Cole.

"I don't care what's called," replied Lawler, "It was great! Yee!"

On the next show, Alicia was given another match, her opponent was Rosa Mendes. I had Rosa wearing a fiery red tank top, with the now-standard issue camel-toe exposing shorts. Alicia made quick work of Rosa, getting her locked in the triangle choke. Brief as the match was, this was not the end of Alicia's evening...

Backstage, viewers heard the pitter-patter of a running shower, the camera slowly panning down to show Eve in the steamy mist, soaking wet, her exposed back to the camera, soap running down her shoulders, teasing the viewers with tantalising glimpses of her bare behind. Eve was rubbing her hands through her hair when, suddenly, a towel-clad Alicia crept behind her.

"Oh honey ~"

Eve turned around in shock, putting her hands over her breasts.

Alicia played with Eve's auburn hair, smirking. "Baby, I just came to put you on notice: that championship is mine."

Eve glared. "Is that a fact?"

"Oh, it is... And, Eve, next time you see me...you'll still be wet." Alicia stepped away, the camera lingering on Eve's shinny wet body.

This was when the women's division really took off. Word had spread among the perverts of the world, the message being very inciting: WWE was presenting matches where hot women wore very little and did nothing but roll around with each other. Website views for the Diva matches were consistently in the top-five most-watched videos, in addition, YouTube views for the matches were through the roof. The new direction was working excellently. 

On the Raw before the PPV, it was announced that Alicia would be challenging Eve for the Divas Championship. On that episode of Raw, Eve was in a non-title match with Maryse, a stunningly hot, golden-haired French-Canadian woman. Alicia was at ringside providing commentary. 

On the floor, Maryse was on top, the two women locked in a position where their vaginas were touching, halfway grinding together in the scissor-sisters position. Both women were showing expressions of pained pleasure, not too much as to alert the censors, but enough to get eagle-eyed viewers paying close attention. Eventually, Eve stepped back, grabbed Maryse's leg and got her in a leglock. Eve then stepped outside and had a hot boob-to-boob staredown with Alicia, this the final image before Sunday's big title match. 

I was very proud of the product I was putting out on screen, even if certain groups of people were outraged at the 'exploitation' of these women athletes. Some in the company also disapproved -- but that was before the Maryse/Eve match drew the highest quarter rating for the entire show. After that, I started getting a little more credit. Right around this time, word about Bruno Bocelli spread around: I saw my stage name in newsletters, websites, forums, all of them mentioning how I was the guy who turned the Divas division around. 

Though, there were some hiccups, a couple minor incidents which didn't help my cause. These minor incidents took place in the WWE Stamford headquarters, a place where I'd spend most my time. For the most part, I stayed in my office and made little to no interaction with anybody but my dorky writer colleagues, but a few times I did leave my little dungeon area to confront the head of the website, Joey Styles. I'd made a list of things I wanted to see change on the website regarding the women. For one, I wanted the pictures to be in HQ (High-Quality). Go there right now and you'll see that the Diva pictures are all in tiny LQ. This is something perverts around the world have wanted for years and still the website has not implemented this change. When I asked Joey, he looked at me like I was a nerdy masturbator -- which I was, of course, but nerdy masturbators was one of their key demographics. These Joey-related incidents were just hiccups, apart from that everything was going great...almost everything.

***

There was someone else in the company who made it clear that they were not a fan of mine: Beth Phoenix. She'd been injured for a while and was pretty excited to be back -- but that was before she found out about the new character I created for her. 

Let me give you a little background on Beth. Now Beth is hot, for sure, but not a typical hottie: she's a good-looking blonde woman that's also muscular, broad and emitted an aura of domination. She'd grown stale as the 'Glamazon,' (a poorly-defined persona, in my opinion), she needed a shake up, thus the creation of her new character: 'Brutal' Beth Phoenix! 'Brutal' Beth was a sexy leather-clad dominatrix that didn't take no for an answer. In the ring, Beth would manhandle the women in a 'special' way. Sure, she was to have some heavy lesbian undertones to her actions, but more of a prison lesbian vibe than anything. I think the straw that broke the camel's back was when she found out her catchphrase: "Spread 'em!" Suffice to say, she made it clear to all and any that she wasn't a happy glammy.

***

It was the day of Alicia and Eve's big PPV title match. My nerves were all over the place, in part to this being my first big show and, also, I knew Beth was in the arena. I sent my hatchet man Tim -- the guy who went to the women and told them my instructions -- to go find Beth and tell her all the ideas I had for her and to make sure he explained them in explicit detail. After he'd told Beth all that I had in store for her, I saw Tim, for the first time, look visibly distressed (and remember, this is the guy who told Eve and Maryse that they had to rub pussies.)

"Umm, Beth, Beth, yeah, she, yeah, she was pissed."

"Did you pitch it well?" I asked.

"Yeah, everything like you said...she hated it, she hated it. She thought I wrote it, I told her I didn't, I told her you did."

"You told her who I am? Fuck! Did you describe me and everything!?"

"Yeah, Bruno, I mean, if she has a problem, she should talk to you, right?"

"...Uhh, yeah, yeah."

I went about my business as usual, thinking Beth wouldn't find me in such a big arena. I shouldn't have underestimated her investigative skills. Near the back entrance, Beth locked eyes with me and paced over. I stepped back and got stuck in a corner, both of us in a secluded part of the building.

She got right in my face and with that icy stone-faced stare said, "You Bruno?"

"Umm, yeah."

"I wanna talk to you." Beth was wearing a long grey shirt and blue jeans. She stepped closer and got me right behind a wall.

"Sure, what's up?"

"You're that guy, the guy who made all the women wrestlers wear little tiny outfits and roll around the ring."

"Yeah, that's me." I'll admit, I was a tad intimidated. This woman did have pretty big arms and a menacing, killer aura. She smelled great, too.

"What's your problem? What's up with this direction? I heard you want me ass-raping the other girls? Come on! Are you a wrestler? I am, and a damn good one. I didn't work this hard to be demeaned like that."

Well, technically, she was an 'entertainer', not a wrestler, but that's a whole different issue.

"Umm, Beth, you see, it's about giving the viewers what they want --"

"Yeah, and they wanna see us wrestle."

"Well, no, they wanna see the guys wrestling. They wanna see you, umm, you Divas...exert your sexuality, you know, because that's why you're hired. I mean, why would the male demographics wanna see super-hot women do basic wrestling matches that are either bad or just okay? I mean, come on, where is the logic in that? This new style is more eye-catching and, and in-the-ring, it sets the girls apart. I know lots of people who enjoy the matches, and not just for the sex appeal aspect. Also, the injury risks are way down with this style, I mean, you should know how easy it is to get hurt, you're coming back from a pretty rough injury."

She kept staring, my mouth kept going.

"Don't you train? Workout? You should know how popular ground-fighting is, it's all the rage, yeah, and I know you're a good worker, so you can go out there and have pretty good matches. Plus, Beth, if you don't mind me saying, I think you're a damn fine-looking woman, you got such unique sex appeal, this style will only make you a bigger star, you can even get a cult following. It all works out so well, you'll never wanna wrestle a different style again, yeah..."

She stopped listening. Her murder stare had become a 'you're-going-in-the-boot-of-my-car' look. Beth stepped forward, her body inches away from mine.

"Listen: I did not bust my ass, working God-knows-where, breaking damn-near every bone in my body just so a little scrawny jerk-off like you can tell me what to do in a business he has no idea about!"

I was getting pretty turned on. Sure, she was trying to scare me, but damn, Beth Phoenix was right on me! Her boobs were pressing against my chest, how could I not get turned on?

"Umm, you know, Beth, this is good, I like this --"

"Shut up!" She slammed her hand against the wall, it inches away from my face. "I'm not fucking doing it, you got that?"

I tried to squirm away, but to no avail. Then, she felt it poking against her navel, rubbing against her like a hard block of wood.

"Hold on...are you...are you?...Motherfucker, you're hard!" she backed away in disgust, repulsed by my human emotion of arousal. "You're disgusting!"

"I'm sorry." I wasn't. "Hey, please don't tell anyone about this."

"Yuck, like I want to go around telling people I made a little dirtbag like you...argh! This is not the end of this." she stomped away in anger.

I won't lie, I beat one off right after this solicit encounter. After getting refocused, I went backstage to watch Alicia's pre-match interview (which I wrote).

"Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome my guest at this time: Alicia Fox," said interviewer Josh Matthews. Alicia came on screen wearing her tiny grey top and tiny shorts.

"Alicia, you've been winning your matches with the triangle choke, can you tell us how you have made this move so effective?"

She twirled her hair while she spoke: "Well, Josh, can you see this wonderful, full, glorious mane of hair I got on my head? All natural, sticks right up, curls up, springs up, down, just like a big...bush!" she giggled, paused, then carried on: "See, Josh, when I drive my opponents' heads down into my 'special' area, well, they're not going to a burnet out, foliage free runway, oh no, when I get girls locked in, they're going to a wonderful, vast, amazing forest of delight!" pause for the male cheers. "And when those girls are there, face-first, experiencing all the wonders, they simply can't take it, so they tap...out! And that's what's going to happen to you Eve, tonight!" and cue Alicia strutting away and back to the announcers.

"Cole, Cole! Did you hear what she just said? She doesn't...she's all natural! Eee!"

With that explanation done, it was time for the match. After a furious ground battle between challenger Alicia and champion Eve, Alicia was able to roll out of an armbar and latch on the triangle choke. The crowd, now knowing the secret of the move, cheered loudly.

"Oh my!" said Cole, "She can't breathe, she's gonna tap."

Eve struggled for around five seconds, but Alicia's bushy vaginal area proved to be too much: Eve slapped the mat to signal her tap out. Alicia grabbed the belt and jumped for joy, pert boobs shaking along in victory: we had a new Divas Champion!

After the post-show meeting -- ending around 3am -- I rode with the other writers to the hotel. Next morning, at 11am, we arrived in a nearby arena for Raw. During our writers' meeting, I told Vince about Beth's concerns, of course, leaving out the whole mildly erotic situation me and her had.

"Hmm, well," he pondered for a moment. "Well, if she doesn't like it, that's tough, this stuff you're booking is drawing big numbers."

"I agree, Vince, but if she doesn't wanna do it, I don't wanna force her or nothing, I mean, we can always trade her."

"Done," he said with a sip of his coffee, "We'll send her to SmackDown, she's not debuted, has she? No? Good, put her on Tuesdays, one of you let her know. Good? Okay, I wanna read a draft of the show in an hour."

During this meeting, I'd plotted out the next four weeks of Diva matches. Since the women were not booked for the next PPV, these matches were designed around putting over the superiority of the "all natural" Divas Champion, Alicia Fox. These matches had Alicia teaming with the delectable Bella Twins (their outfits: small leather bikinis, their cute little breasts looking so snug. Also, under orders, they did a lot more booty shaking before, during and after their matches.) Alicia got the winning submission in every match, putting over the "loaded' triangle finisher.

So, after this show was done, around 1am, you wouldn't believe who cornered me in a dark part of the building: Yup, the Brutal One, Beth. She caught me from out of the shadows, grabbed at my shirt and threw me hard against some steel rails. That hurt.

Beth stood face-to-face with me, her cheeks bright red, sweating, almost snarling.

"Hey, what the hell?" I said.

"What the hell!? You just cost me my fucking job!"

"What? No, no, you just switched shows."

"That's not what they told me! They told me to go home and wait it out. I might not even be on SmackDown! You know what happens to people who get lost in the shuffle?" she poked her finger on my chest. "Do you?"

"But we got a show for you --"

"Shut up! You have no fucking clue what kind of business you're in! I mean, who are you? Who the fuck are you?"

Being asked who I am was such a loaded question that I didn't formulate a response.

"I'm talking to you. Are you going to say something? Do I have to get you to talk?"

At that point I knew I had to act fast. I was only one step away from being the Glamazon's bitch, about to take every last inch of her giant dildo and gawd dammit Louis Torrile doesn't take it up the ass with metal instruments!

I stood up straight and got right in her face: "Yeah, Beth, I got something to say: you complain about being demeaned and humiliated and overly-sexualised, then tell me, Beth, why did you get those put in," I said as I pointed at her breasts, "if you wanted to be just a 'wrestler'? Hmm? And it may gross you out that I get turned on by you being so close to me, while, really, what you should be is happy, happy that you fucking get me hard, because I'm the guy booking all the women! And guess what? I masturbate over you, I have for years, alone in my room, and so do millions and millions of men across the world because they get turned on by you! And those guys jerking off to your muscles and tits are the same people that allow you to have this fucking job in the first place! So you should be happy that you get me hard, get it? You make me hard and I wanna make you money! How is that not a good deal for you? How!?"

Pinpoint the exact moment where coherent thought left my mind.

Beth responded with a red-hot slap to the face. I got into the cower-position while she paced back and forth. Instinctively, I squeezed my ass-cheeks, ready for her punishment. Instead she growled a loud roar, her body drenched in sweat and her face beetroot red. She gave me one final death-glare, then stormed off. I was saved. 

I decided right then that it would be for the best if I didn't attend anymore of the shows. I was exposed; one of the female wrestlers knew my face, which meant if Beth came back, all the other women would know which sexist "ruined them". There was no need for me to be at the shows anyway, I was only there for meetings which didn't have anything to do with me, since I was booking the women's stuff independently. Plus, there was also the huge issue with my mom coming to the shows; I couldn't risk her seeing my face. I decided to speak with Vince about this, but knowing how against he was to any suggestion that goes against the norm, I didn't have high expectations. 

I spotted him alone, right before he was going into his limo. He saw me first and grinned.

"Jesus Christ, have you seen the quarters we've drawn for these women segments? You're doing a hellva job, kid."

"Thanks, Sir...Sir, I was wondering if I could, umm, do all my writing work from Stamford?"

"Hmm well, that's highly unusual."

"Yeah, but, you know," I whispered, "my mom and all."

"Oh right, right, hmm, well you do book it on your own...Okay, done, do all your shows from there, then send them to Tim and the other writer people."

Success! "Thank you so much, Sir." 

"Hey, just keep drawing those numbers. Hell, if they get any higher, I might get you to book the whole product," he said with a chuckle. Right before he left, I peeked into the limo and saw Vince's son Triple H giving me a nasty glare while Vince's daughter Stephanie shook her head in disbelief.

"Really, Dad?" I heard her say in that nasally voice.

"When did that jerk-off kid start calling the shots?" said future owner Triple H. That was the last thing I heard after the door was shut. Thankfully, the two future heirs to the company were overruled and I was allowed to work right out of WWE headquarters. Luck had come my way yet again!

***

On TV, Alicia and her bushy bush triangle choke were dominating everyone. During that same time period, my mom's reintroduction vignettes were aired. When I got to Stamford, I saw the completed vignettes...then watched them again, and again, and again, and again at my apartment and then later watched them again....let's just say that my expenditure on tissues increased tenfold due to these vignettes. They went like this:

First vignette:

On a sunny day in suburbia, an angry man stands outside a house, slamming his fist on the door. 




WrestleMom Ch. 03



"Open up dammit! Open up!" 

My mom flings open the door, her cheeks red, her hair a wild mess. 

"Yes, is there a problem?" she asks with an innocent expression.

The man stayed quiet, the camera then giving us a good, wide shot of my mom: she was leaning against the doorway, her bare sweaty legs on show, wearing a loosely-tied blue bathrobe, the parted robe giving a brief glimpse of her black bra and panties

The man lost his focus: "Umm, ah, your d-damn kid keeps kicking his balls in my yard!"

"Oh, I'm so, so very sorry," Mom pouted her lips and pushed her breasts up with her arms. "Umm, no one's around, so you want to discuss it...inside?" 

"Oh, yes, yes I would like that."

"Good, I think we'll resolve this silly little thing in a jiff." Mom winked at the camera, led the man inside and shut the door.

"Tina is going RAW!" appeared on the screen.

The second vignette:

My mom was in the principal's office, dressed to impress, wearing a short tight skirt, a small dress shirt and bright red lipstick. In the distance, sitting in the lobby, is a boy.

The principal spoke: "Now, Miss Torrile, your son is a real troublemaker, someone whose record is almost unsalvageable: he's going to need some real punishing."

"Punishment?" she said with a raised eyebrow. "Punish him? Would you not rather punish...me?" Mom stood up, kicked the door closed, stepped on the chair, then on the table, got on her knees, grabbed the principal by his tie and said:

"All that punishment you're about to lay out on my boy, how about you lay it all out...on me!"

He nodded like a bobblehead. Mom turned to the camera, winked, the viewers being reminded that Tina Torrile is indeed going RAW.

And finally: the third vignette...

Three teen boys walked into a wooden floored upmarket house.

"Okay, guys first we'll play this, then we'll --"

"Hello boys!"

My bikini-clad mother walked on screen, the camera first showing her bare wet feet slapping against the floor, then, her shiny bronze legs, toned stomach, jiggling breasts, and finally, her smiling face. This was a real pants-off-kick-everyone-out-the-room moment: she looked so very, very...hot!

The guys' mouths hung wide open.

"Ahh, what a nice swim! How are you boys today?"

"Fine!" said two of the boys, the one on the far left looking at the floor (him being the son).

"Uh-huh, uh-huh --Oh! How rude of me! Wait there, boys, I'll rustle you up some snacks."

Mom turned, gave the guys a good look at her toned butt, the camera staying on her as she went to the kitchen. She bent down and looked around the fridge, twirling her butt in the process. As she did this, the guys conversed:

"Dude! Your mom is so hot! She's so hot! Her body is, uhh, hot!"

"Dude, he's right: your mom is smoking hot! Damn! Oh man, she is so sexy!"

"Shut up, shut up!" said the son.

Mom walked back to the boys, holding a cup in one hand and a plate in the other.

"Now, boys, will it be milk or cake?"

The vignette ended after she asked this provocative double entendre question. I felt the vignettes packed a powerful, quick one-two-three punch, giving the viewers enough content to wet their appetites. Well, at least my legs agreed.

To further drum up interest for the return of wrestling's premier hot mom (suck on that Joy Giovanni...please) I came up with the idea of having members of the WWE Universe (a goofy name given to the fans) submit their own mothers and have their hotness rated. I came up with what kind of website it should be, how to promote it, what picture formats to use, hey, I may only have a high school education, but I know about my internet pornography!

I submitted the proposal to Joey Styles. He looked at me with absolute disgust.

"You're a sick human being," he said with a deadpan look.

I can't really disagree with that assessment. So I went over Joey's head and showed it to Vince, who freaked out.

"By gawd that's a fantastic idea!" he said with intense glee, "Get them internet people working on it, now, now!"

The order was given to the dot.com people and in a few days, up went the "How Hot Is Your Mom?" microsite. With the WWE behind the idea of (legally-verified) teens endorsing their own mother's hotness, some genuine responses, along with pictures, came in. Here are some of the highlights:

One guy posted his hot, tanned Spanish mom and left these comments about her: "My mom works out so much! She swims, she jogs, she does lots! She really likes her body and wears tanktops and shorts all the time! At first I didn't like it when she dressed this way because everyone stared...now I do like it because it makes me and her special! I like it when my friends look and say things about her body -- like all you guys will do now! She dresses sexy when she goes to my school; I love that, all the guys wanting to be my friends when they see her! I say her best feature is her butt, I seen it in person, it looks nice, her cheeks are a perfect circle!"

A son with a tall, curvaceous black mom had this to share: "I didn't think much of her 'till we went on holiday, then my opinion changed. It was so hot, so friggin hot that my moms wore a small bikini top and a friggin thong! I was so hard watching her around the beach. Her ass was bouncing! Dad could tell I was excited with what I saw and he was cool with it. Said it's ok, it's only human, he'd feel the same in my shoes. I even asked him how she keeps such a banging body at her age. He told me straight up: lots of sex!"

A teen with a hot, tight-bodied Asian mom gave us an insight into his life: "I don't think I should tell you this, but I saw my mom wearing a French maid outfit for her boyfriend! Crazy, right? Well, next night she wore a cop outfit, then a nurse outfit, and then just straight lingerie, man she was really trying hard to impress him! I'm sure she's going to such an effort because this man of hers is loaded with cash! Nowadays, she doesn't ever wear proper clothes around the house; she's always in tight clothing, sometimes her underwear, showing her boyfriend what he can have. Here all the pics I took in secret, anything for the WWE Universe! Wow, looking at these again, it proves to me my friends were right: My mom does have great tits!"

A user who chose to stay anonymous told us this story: "I knew my mom was pretty, I just didn't think much about it...until one day I went in her room, bumped into her closet and found an old Playboy magazine...and guess who was Ms August? Yep, my very own mom! I felt weird and weirdly warm...I was jerking off without even knowing it! She looked so good. ..she was dressed as a valkyrie ....sword, shield and thong...all wet...water dripping down her body...her great ass, great boobs...oh my, I have to go find that magazine!"

An excitable Brazilian posted a ton of pictures of his tanned, hot-bodied, 40-something mother: "I am from BRAZIL and my mother is ALWAYS naked! She is gorgeous! She's always looking to be naked. My sisters are also always naked, my aunts too! All female in my family like to go in hot tub and be naked and happy together. I am blessed: all women in my family have great genetics ;-)."

A French son with a tall, model-esque, red-headed mom posted some great stuff: "If I had to rate my favourite shows, starting from 3rd to 1st, it would go like this: SmackDown, RAW, and my mother having sex! I seen her do the SEX with my step-dad and it was great! She rode him HARD, she went so fast on him, rocking back-and-forth like so amazingly, so flexible, dynamic, and beautiful, it was simply great! He was sweating so much it's not even funny, he had to keep pausing so he'd get his breath back! My mother had just complete control over him! I'm proud to have a mother that can bring it in the bedroom, yeah, think about that!"

There was a couple of UK'ers who also posted. This was the best: this son's mom was a huge breasted, round, raven-haired woman, a real good time gal: "I don't think you'll find a mum fitter than mine! See those? (He said referring to the pictures of her in a bikini) In that one trip she had literally hundreds of men gagging for it! We knew when she had a shoe outside the door, she was shagging, and oh boy, she was shagging from when the plane hit the tarmac, 'till we jetted off, every holiday she be shagging! She can't stop shagging! She loves it! We got a hot tub at home and all she does is shag in it -- even when me and my sis are in the tub with her! One of her boyfriends told me she was built for sex, her body type, just made to be drilled, now I see why! My sister is also proper fit."

Then, two weeks into the contest, came the big one: username WWE4LIFE posted pictures of his stunning mom. This is what we wrote: "Hey guys, my mom is very pretty, she does bikini contests. She does the Hooters and other big-time bikini leagues. I told her about this and she asked me right away to post her pictures to this website. She's hot and cool. If you like, I'll post more. She really wants to be in the WWE! How cool is that?"

This guy posted a ton of high-quality pictures, including pictures of his mom in super-small bikinis, thongs, lingerie and costumes, plus videos from her contests that showcased her amazing booty-shaking skills. She turned out to be little-known fitness model Gina DiMaggio. She was billed at 5'7, had long toned legs, dark auburn hair, a tan Italian complexion, nice round boobs and all topped off by an ass so round and ripe, you'd kill to take a bite out of it. I contacted her son and probed him for more details. The story only got better: Not only was she super open about her work with him, she also went as far as modelling her outfits for him! 

The stories about him and his mom were beyond fascinating to an incest/taboo fan like myself, such as the story of his mother dressing up for his birthdays, her preferred choice being a superhero costume which consisted of red leather shoes, tiny blue shorts, a small red top and a tiara -- oh, and a cape. There was also the great game she'd made called "Clean Room Strip', wherein she'd reward her son for cleaning his room by stripping down and parading around in her underwear! Now nothing sexual happened between the two and the son I talked to thought it was all pretty normal, which made the whole set-up all the more better. I decided that I just had to meet this woman -- and being a WWE writer was the perfect in! I told her son to relay the message that I was interested in his mother. He did and she was thrilled to talk with me. 

I kept in contact with Gina and her son (named Ronald), talking to one or the other over the internet. I must say that Ronald was pretty damn annoying. He asked some of the dumbest wrestling-related questions, constantly non-stop bombarding me with the dullest queries. I endured the tedium that came my way because I was planning a face-to-face talk with his sexy mom, but more on that later. For now, let's go back to ringside! 

***

Finally, it was time for my mom to return to TV -- and what a return it was. I came up with a super-risky idea, showed it to Vince, he loved it and gave it the go-ahead. 

In the shower was Alicia, her whole nude back on camera, her ass just inches away from being shown. She was washing her hair, applying shampoo, then, an arm appeared on screen, holding a ruler. This arm swung and smacked Alicia right on her cute mocha cheeks.

"Ow!" she put her hands on her butt, turned her head and said, "What-what, what are you doing here?"

The camera panned down to my towel-clad mom. The crowd cheered. Mom smirked and then spoke: "Alicia, darling, sweetie, honey, you've been such a naughty girl...a BAD girl!" Mom turned her eyes downward, "Tsk, tsk: did your mother never teach you to mow the lawn?" Pause for cheers. "Don't worry dear, I'll teach you everything you need to know." Mom patted Alicia on the butt, then left. The camera lingered on Alicia, who first expressed fear, then went all fierce, glaring angrily at my disciplinary mother.

The week after, in Houston, was Mom's return match. Now if you read WrestleMom Ch.02, you'll know her ring attire, which is small shorts, a sports bra and a robe which has "Hot Mom" written on it. Well, she had the same ring attire, expect she had no shoes. Mom was up against Melina in this match and, for sure, Mom was out to impress.

My mom came rushing into the ring and spear-tackled Melina to the ground. Mom got on top and mounted the salacious Latina, laying hard, sweaty elbows to her face. Since Melina was on the outs with the office, I was given the a-ok for allowing my mom to squash Melina, and she did, hard. Very quickly the referee stopped the match and awarded the win to my mom -- but she wasn't done yet. 

Mom grabbed Melina's track pants, yanked them off and gave the roaring crowd a look at Melina's full, bare, perfectly-round ass cheeks. On all fours, with only a dental-floss thong covering her privates, Melina screamed and flayed around, reaching for the ropes. My mom would have none of that, oh no: she grabbed Melina by the hair, licked her hand and -- whack! -- slapped Melina's tush. The camera zoomed in hard, you could hear the whack and see Melina's ass cheek jiggle. After a few seconds of spanking, Melina wriggled out the ring, trying to cover herself up, my mom's red handprint imprinted on her butt. This was a very happy moment. A very happy moment. 

This envelope-pushing moment was posted on the company's YouTube channel and reached 700,000 views within one day. My role had never been more secure, especially when news came in that my segment was the highest-rated out of the whole show. Sadly, the censors started calling right after the de-pantsing of Melina. WWE had avoided bare female ass cheeks for a reason: to censors it was a big no-no.

To cool down the heat against the women's division, I was ordered to keep things simple. That next Raw, I was given less time and the order to book a short one-on-one match. I put my mom in there with Rosa Mendes and gave Mom a quick win. 

That next week, in Columbus, I booked a straightforward tag match, with my mom and Kelly on one side and Alicia and Melina on the other. They did the standard rolling around in the ring, a highlight being Kelly's new motorboat move, which involved her shaking her boobs in her downed opponent's face. Kelly came up with that one; she's actually quite a dirty little minx. The finish was my mom pinning Melina again. After the match, my mom got on the microphone and addressed the champ:

"Alicia, darling, baby, honey, sweetie, I think it's time you gave this sweet mother, the momma to all these naughty boys," she pointed to the cheering fans, "a Divas Championship match."

Alicia shook her head. "No, no, no, no."

"No? Well, I knew you'd say that, such a naughty girl, so, Hun, I went and pulled some 'favours', some special Mummy favours, with the RAW G.M and got him to give me a championship match. So, Alicia, honey, sweetie: I got some news for ya: you will defend your title against me!"

The crowd cheered, Mom and Kelly left the ring, their arms around each other, toned butt cheeks bouncing beside each other.

The PPV match was set: It was Challenger Tina Torrile vs. Divas Champion Alicia Fox. 

In addition, a web-only segment was filmed. In started with my mom, in the locker room, still in her wrestling attire, taking her boots off.

"Hard day?" Kelly Kelly walked in the room -- fully naked (The camera showing her bare back and only the slightest hint of ass cheek).

"Is it ever easy? Being a mom and a Superstar, it's hard work. I'm so sore."

"Then come into the shower with me, I'll give you a rubdown."

"Thanks sweetie...Hun, you do know you're naked, right?"

Kelly shrugged. "Duh? I'm an exhibitionist, remember?"

"Oh right, I forgot that about you."

Kelly walked off screen, giving us all a mouth-watering peek of sideboob. Mom then followed her into the shower. They continued their conversation away from the camera.

"Gosh," said Mom, "I need you teaching Alicia how to groom: Your runway is so clean."

That and other classic material flowed through my head on a daily basis. It was fantastic, making the WWE women -- and my hot mom -- act out all my TV14 fantasies, but enough about that, time to get to what I've been building to ever since I got this role as a writer: My mom's first ever shot at the WWE Divas Championship.

***

I went to the arena to watch this one. It was in Philadelphia, Wells Fargo Center. It was a brisk evening, an electric atmosphere among the patrons, an excitement level that was hard to replicate, all in anticipation for something they'd never seen before. Yes, all the pieces were set for a moment no fan would ever forget. 

In a major sign of respect, the Divas title match opened the show. Going on first may seem like an insult, but for wrestlers of the stature of the Divas, it's an honour, as they have the job of warming the crowd up and setting the tone for the show. That much was true as this match was designed to set the crowd on fire.

An out-of-character Louis Torrile was there to see his mother. Things had improved between us. She was happy due to her big push, the awkward moment between us all but forgotten, like it never happened.

"Hey, Hun!" she said from across the hall, skipping in her pink robe and slippers.

"Umm, hey," I said as I pulled my baseball cap down.

"Gosh, I've not seen you in so long, such a long time, you look so different. How you've been, Hun?" she asked while rubbing my shoulder.

"You know, I've been good, good, been working more out of the tower recently, yeah. I've seen you on TV, you've been doing well."

"You've seen me?" she cringed. "Gosh, wish you didn't. All I do now is roll around and slap girls on their tushies. Your aunt has been giving me such grief about it."

"Haha...yeah. So what do you think of this new style?"

"Truthfully, Hun, I don't like it, but I get it. It draws boys in, plus I'm getting such a push from this, money-wise this has been my best run in, like, forever, so I can't complain."

"Cool, cool," I said as I kept my gaze firmly locked on her eyes.

"Oh, Hun, you haven't seen my new house in Tampa yet. You must come visit, this place is gorgeous!"

"I will, Mom --" oops! I called her 'Mom' at a WWE show! Thankfully no one was around to hear me. "Umm, I, ah, will visit you and I will watch your match tonight."

"Do you have to, Hun? I kinda wished you didn't, would feel weird if you did."

"Oh? Yeah, sure, I won't if you don't want me to. I'm really here to see the Money In The Bank matches."

"That's my boy," she stood on her tiptoes and hugged me, her breasts brushing against my chest. "Ohh, I've missed seeing you! You stay in touch, you hear?"

"I will, I will."

She then left to get ready for her match, me staring at her peachy butt as she sauntered away. So, while Louis Torrile had been banned from watching her match, Bruno Bocelli wasn't! I found a spare TV monitor and got set to watch this historic clash!

Mom came down first, then Alicia. Mom tackled Alicia to the ground and they went right to snuggle fighting. I made sure they got especially gropey: their cheek bones grinding, lips wet, their bare legs intertwined, hair in each other's faces, breath-on-breath level closeness. Since this was a championship match, I even got Mom and Alicia to do a little dry-humping, their cheeks a blushing shade of red from the woman-on-woman contact. 

"Tina! Tina! Tina!" chanted the Philly crowd, the hardcore male fans behind my hot mom. Mom was battling hard for the mount position, but Alicia had those long longs around my mom's midsection, tying her up. 

"This does not look good," said an intently focused Jerry Lawler. "I've done my studying: Alicia is setting Tina up for the -- eek! -- triangle choke!"




WrestleMom



Hayes, with a huge grin on his face, rubbed his hands in glee. "Now, you put your eye into that peep-hole and take a peek. Go on, she can't hear us, have fun with it, hee-hee."

I took a deep breath, got near the wall, leaned slowly against it, not wanting to make any noise and took a peek. I saw her from the back, her amazing curves, her gorgeous, golden brown skin, the water roaring down on her, from the top of her head, down to her amazing, perfectly formed ass. I was in heaven. I enjoyed the moment for a few more seconds...then she turned around. I got a good look at her and knew right away it was not Eve Torres in that shower, no, no...It was my very own mother!

I backed away, horrified at what I'd seen. I looked over at Hayes and saw him break into a horrible shrieking laughter. He pointed at me with tears in his eyes. I stood there, stunned. I quickly realised that I had been played by him.

"Oh my God!" he said in a shrill voice. "You, hahaha, you were, hahaha! Getting excited over your mom! Hahahahaha! Your mom! Hahaha, that is so fucked up! Hahahahaha!!! Your own mother! Oh fuck, hahaha! Oh shit! Hahaha, oh god, oh my lord, that is just too much."

After calming himself down, he slapped me on the shoulder and quipped, "No worries kid, I won't tell anyone, I'm not allowed to anyway. Oh shit, this may get me fucked again, ok, really, don't tell anyone," he then broke back into laughter, "Like you would! Hahahahaha! Oh that was too much, hahaha!" I watched as he walked off into the distance.

I quickly ran into a corner, sweating from head to toe, thinking about what had happened. I was shaken up by it, while feeling bad over the fact that I enjoyed it. It was one thing jerking-off to my mom's TV persona, but getting excited over her in person? It was new to me, as strange as that all sounds. I was also angry, angry at that fucking asshole Michael Hayes. I felt like kicking his ass! But that would have done no one any good, seeing as he was technically my mom's boss. He determined her future: I didn't wanna risk angering him.

After sitting and thinking about it for a while, I decided to forget it ever happened, just forget it and move on. Since Hayes was not telling anyone and I planned to never tell anyone either, I just wanted to pretend it never happened; I was determined to enjoy my time in the WWE and not let one moment ruin it.

***

My mom came over to me, waving as we got ready to leave the arena.

"Hey Lou, how was it?"

"Umm, yeah, fine," I tried not looking at her, I still felt majorly awkward. 

"The boys treat you fine?"

"I guess, they were ok."

"Oh? I thought you'd be more excited."

"Well...your heroes never turn out to be what you expect."

"Aww," she patted me on the back, "It was the same for me when I got here. Come on Hun, let's go to the hotel."

"Ok, Mom."

While we drove, I looked out the window, trying to think about something other than the prank Hayes had pulled. By midnight, me and Mom got to our hotel, got separate rooms and went to sleep. 

***

It was the next morning; I awoke early so that me and Mom could get to the arena on time. We followed the previous day's routine: Mom went to the locker rooms, I wandered around the arena. Whist in my walk, I went to the ringside area, there I observed the ring crew assembling the ring. Due to my background in construction, I noticed some errors they were making.

"Need any help?" I asked.

"What? What can you do?" asked the head of the crew, a white English man with a goatee. 

"Well, I've been working construction since I was fourteen. I'm sure I can figure out how a wrestling ring works. I can help in some way."

"Really, kid?"

"Yeah, really."

"Ok kid, help put this pole up, let's see what you can do."

From then on I helped the ring crew out at each arena; it gave me something to do, it helped me feel like part of the team, not just some freeloader. 

Later that night, as the show was closing up, I went to the catering area to see if there were any leftovers. As I took a piece of chicken from the catering table, a big booming voice bellowed at me, "Hey there!"

I dropped the chicken, then saw the Chairman of the WWE, the one and only Vince McMahon, coming up to me. He was a big, powerful guy with a huge presence and a pretty good physique for a guy in his mid-60's. He had short darkish-grey hair, very broad shoulders, and was wearing a dark blue suit. He looked pretty tired; his clothes were slightly dishevelled. 

"I'm sorry, Sir, n-no one was around, so I thought it be ok."

"It's fine," he chuckled, "Help yourself, there's plenty."

I gazed in awe at the creator of the WWE. He made some coffee while giving me a puzzled look.

"You Tina's son, right?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Hmm, yes, I heard about what Hayes did, that whole deal with you and your mom."

"Yeah, that was really bad, really embarrassing. I'm sorry Sir, it will never happen again." I was not sure why I was apologizing, but I felt like I had to. 

"Don't worry; I personally made sure that he won't tell another soul about what happened. I assure you, it's a guarantee. An incident that embarrassing is not something I want you to be burdened with."

"Thank you Sir, I really appreciate that, thanks"

"No problem...but," he lowered his voice, and nudged closer to me, "Go on, just between us guys, tell me: what ya think of it?"

"I'm ok with it now, I'm over it, it's cool, I'm ok."

"No, no, tell me what you thought of her," his voice suddenly took a more perverted tone. His expression changed from stoic to alert. I didn't know how to respond. 

"Umm, Sir, that's my mother, you know--"

"She's a good-looking woman."

"She is."

"So you admit your mother is attractive?"

"I didn't say that, but yeah, she is."

"Well, what did you think of her? Were you aroused when you saw her in the shower?"

"I-I was at first 'cause I didn't think it was my mom--"

"So you were!" 

"Yeah, but when I saw her face, I was not so into it--"

"But you were aroused by your naked mother in the shower, you have to admit that?"

"...Yeah?"

He paused for a moment as he thought to himself. "...This is good, really good, never in the history of the WWE have we had a WWE Diva with a son at your age, it's eighteen, correct?

"Yeah."

"Perfect!" he started talking really quickly: "She's a mother, a sexy mother. She can go down the ring, gyrating that body of hers, with the males in the audience knowing of her background, knowing that she has a son around their own age...Ohhhh...I like that, I like that a lot, it has such a great ring to it...sexy mother with a son of the legal age...it has never been done before, yes!" He put down his coffee, almost shaking in excitement. "But we have limits; there is only so many ways we can show her on TV. Gawd damn P.G!" He turned his back to me, then started mumbling to himself. "If only we...could get her in...Something raunchier than what we do now...not our magazine, not the website...Hmm...Something we can put her in...A magazine? A...European magazine? Hmm...That way, we could... I got it!"

He turned to me and gave me a very stern look: "You tell no one of this conversation, you hear me? No one. This thing with your mother, it is something I have wanted to do for years," he took out his phone and handed it to me. "Your number, put it in."

"My what?"

"Your number! Do it!"

I quickly put my number into his phone. He snatched it back and put it in his suit jacket. As he began to walk, he stopped, pointed at me and said, "You keep your phone with you at all times?"

"Umm...mostly, not all the time."

"Keep it with you at all times, I mean it: at all times." He then briskly walked off, probably hoping that no one saw him. That was one strange encounter. 

I was not surprised at Vince McMahon's reaction; he was a well-known fan of incest, always trying to get an incest storyline into his programming, even going so far as to propose a storyline where he would have taken credit for his daughter Stephanie's pregnancy. Of course, these storylines ideas were shot-down. 

After that day, me and Mom settled into a routine for the tour; we would come from the hotel, she would go to the locker rooms, I would go help the ring guys, then we would go to another hotel. This went on for three more days, till we went to France. Because all the wrestlers and staff were going to be in non-English speaking countries for the rest of the tour, they took us around Europe on tour buses. Me and Mom went on separate buses, but stayed in the same hotels. Little did I know that a huge game-changer was coming right up!

***

It was morning in Madrid, Spain. Me and Mom were ready to get on the buses when she suddenly got a phone call. 

"Huh? What? Yes... So we wait for a--...Ok...He has to come with me? All right, well, ok...Bye."

"What is it, Mom?"

"They said I was going to have to be late for the show because they've booked me for a photoshoot."

"A what? How come?"

"Yeah, crazy, I know. They want you to come with me as well. They said that you were a minor!? Must have been some sorta mix-up or something...Well, Hun, this is better than you being all alone in Spain. You better come along."

"Umm...Ok..."

My mom and I waited an hour for a taxi to pick us up. When it arrived, we got in, and were driven to the studio.

"Hun," she said as we both sat in the car, "I don't know what this photoshoot is about, I think you better stay away from where the pictures get taken though, I don't think you wanna see me getting all undressed or nuthin'."

That got my motor going, "Oh um...yeah, sure, no problem," I wondered what her photoshoot was going to be like. When we got there, she was whisked away by one of the female assistants. Then, a male assistant approached me and asked, "You Louis Torrile?"

"Yeah, I am."

"Ah yes, we got a room for you to wait in, come this way."

I got taken to a nice lounge area. It had green walls, was small, compact. I sat on the black couch and flipped through some Spanish magazines. It was not two minutes after I had entered the room that I started feeling a buzz in my pants: my phone was ringing. 

"Hello?"

"Hello, it's me," it was Vince McMahon. "I hope you're where I want you to be."

I was left speechless for a second, "Umm, I'm in, I'm in a photo studio."

"The lounge?"

"Yes, the lounge." I wondered what the hell was going on. 

"Good, now, if you look to the left of the couch, you will see a black coat and hat."

I rummaged around the couch, and just as he had said, there was a black bomber jacket and black baseball cap there. 

"I found it."

"Good, now put it on, and follow my instructions: Go right from here. Keep on going right till you see a door, then go through that door."

"Are you...Sir, are you going to make me watch my mom's photoshoot?"

"Why of course I am! You think I let you miss it? Now get going, tell me what you think of it later," he immediately hung-up the phone.

I put the jacket and hat on, opened the door, and followed Vince's instructions. I saw a blue door: I went through it. I was in a cramped, dark corner of the photo studio, in a place where no one would've spotted me. I looked around, saw a white backdrop, lighting guys, and some people milling around. They all talked in Spanish to each other before the photographer, a skinny bald guy with a well-trimmed goatee, said in broken English, "Okay, chop-chop, bring the lovely in!" 

My mom walked over to him. She was wearing a long pink bathrobe. 

"Okay lovely," he touched her shoulder, "Oh my, lovely indeed, you are just gorgeous! So adorable! Wowie! When I heard we had a wrestler, I expected a butch woman; you know, with big muscles and that-that, but you! You're a sexy little package, aren't you!?"

My mom's face turned red, "Aww, stop it, Hun! You're too much!"

He put his hand out for an effeminate handshake. "My name is Rodrigo and you are?"

"Tina," she responded to his handshake. 

"Ok lovely, for you, I want an American-themed photoshoot! Lots of that, umm, what you call it? Americana! That's it! I want that all around! That good?"

"Yeah, sounds good to me, Hun."

"Great," he slapped his hands loudly, "Take her to wardrobe!"

My chest felt like it was about to explode as I waited in anticipation for her first outfit. Five minutes later, I heard the sound of bare feet smacking against a concrete floor: it was her. 

She looked so different, yet so familiar, as I watched her from my vantage point. The cherry red lipstick, the blush on her cheeks, the light eye-shadow, her volumized hair: all of it made her look so much sexier. Mom was wearing a nondescript blue and white American Football jersey, totally bottomless, her sexy toned bare legs on display. Her shirt was small enough to get tantalising glimpses of her underwear. 

"Ready?" he asked.

"Ready," she replied.

She tentatively stood in front of the white backdrop, her hands placed around her stomach.

"Now, now, don't be nervous, I wanna get the, the, the tiger out from you! You know, get you looking like a sexy, dominate woman! Pose for me, let me see it!" he took his camera out and started snapping. 

Mom pulled her shirt down, smiled, turned a little to the left and right. After a few minutes, she got more comfortable, a broader smile spread across her face; she started playing to the camera by putting her hands on her hips and pointing.

"Sexy, sexy, gimme me more, my lovely."

She put her hands near her breasts, crumpled her shirt, rubbed her legs together, and made a kissy face towards the camera. 

"Perfect, perfect! Little more, nice! Lovely!"

My mom then put her left hand at the bottom of her shirt, pulled it up, just a little, to reveal the tiny sexy white panties she had on underneath. They fitted snugly on her, with visible perspiration on her thighs. Then, she put her right index finger on the tip of her lips and put a sexy grin on her face: the kind of expression which just screamed "fuck me!"

"Great! Very great! Ok!" Rodrigo called over a male production assistant and gave him an order: "Get her in that outfit, she is ready for it, we can get so much out of it." 

A woman put a robe on my mom and led her backstage. I was sweating bullets just watching! It was unbelievable, seeing her pose like a sexy model; it was like she was a different person, yet still the same! Hard to explain, but oh so hot. My hand had gone down my leg, almost on its own as I watched. No need to say what I was doing! When I saw my mom's next outfit, I almost imploded. 

She wore a bikini-top which had an American flag imprinted on it; along with that she wore form-fitting, matching, stars-and-stripes boy-shorts. Her butt-cheeks jiggled nicely as she walked confidently to the white backdrop. 

"All right, let's get this going!" she enthusiastically shouted to the crew.

"That's what I want to see!" responded Rodrigo. 

She was given a set of American themed objects to hold. First, she was handed an apple pie, which she held in both hands, did a cute wink and posed as if she was serving it. After that, she was given an American football; she tossed that around and got all sweaty in the process. 

I thought about how bizarre this all was. I had memoires of my mom giving me apple pies and tossing footballs to me, and there I was, watching her do those same things, but now she was in her underwear! 

Lastly, Mom was given a rubber Lady Liberty torch; she held that high in her left hand, smiled, and gave a sexy salute. 

"Okay, okay, Tina, are you ready?" asked Rodrigo. 

"As I will ever be, Hun,"

She turned around, untied her bikini-top, took it off, quickly grabbed her breasts, turned back around and held her peachy breasts in a cross-arm position. The make-up woman went up to my mom and gently touched and brushed her chest, putting the final touches to her. My mom smiled to the camera, almost naked in a room full of people, fully confident with her toned body. Her body, shimmering from all the day's sweat, with the added glow of make-up making her radiate. She was quite limited with the poses she could do, so she just tossed her hair around and gave "fuck me" looks to the camera.

"Ok, one more from behind!" shouted Rodrigo.

My mom turned around and stuck her butt out. Her shorts were so tight that I could see a perfect outline of her round firm ass. 

Rodrigo made a few more flashes of light appear from his camera, before he declared: "We are done! Quick, get her in a robe."

A woman put a robe over my mom and hurryingly took her to the back. Rodrigo went up to her, patted her on the shoulder, telling her she did well. The whole shoot, for me, was so intense, so amazing, seeing her transformed like that. If I was ever on the fence about her, I was not after that experience: she was a hot, sexy woman I would've liked to fuck -- even if was she my mom. 

After the shoot, I ran back to the lounge. I then sent Vince a text message. I made sure it was vague enough so anyone but him who read it would not understand it. It said: "I'm with you on this one."

Me and Mom left the photo studio and were driven right to the show. Soon as she got in the car, she went on her cellphone. "What? The show has started already? What are we now? We're semi-main! Yeah...yeah I know, I don't get why they booked me on something so short notice...yeah, I'll see you Hun, bye." She put the phone down and looked at me in disbelief. "Can you believe they did this? What reason did they have to do this all last-minute?"

"I got no idea," I said with a smirk. 

***

After the show had finished, I helped the ring-crew disassemble the ring. After finishing that hard job, I wandered around the locker room area, thinking about that super-sexy photoshoot. Then, I stopped in my tracks when I heard a familiar laugh.

"Hahaha! She can't have done that! Really?" It was my mom! 

I hid myself behind a giant box and looked over to see what was going on. My mom was in her ring gear, the blue crop-top and tight pants. She was talking to a fellow wrestler who went by the name Batista. He was a part-Filipino, part-Greek giant muscle man with veins all around his body. He was wearing his trunks and boots, a sly smile on his face. Batista had a reputation of being a ladies' man, with his favourite breed being WWE Divas, of which my mom was one!

He was leaning against a wall as he spoke in that smooth baritone voice: "Yeah, yeah, I know what it's like. Kids, they can be such a handful."

"That could not be truer, Hun. But ya know, no matter what they do, you still love them."

He looked her right in the eyes, "I could not agree more, I could not agree more, you got it right."

"Well, I gotta go. Early trip and all."

"Oh yeah, yeah, me too, I'll be seeing you later."

"Bye, Hun."

"Bye," Batista nodded his head in approval, admiring her ass as she walked off. I could tell from the look in his eyes, he was scouting my mom as his next target! Not wanting my mom to become another notch on Batista's bedpost, I went up to him.

"Hey, Batista."

He gave me a slightly disgruntled look: "Can I help you with something?"

"Umm, yeah, sorta, umm, you see, how do I put this? Umm you know --"

"Go on, spit it out."

"You know that woman you were just talking to?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Well," my palms got sweaty as he continued to stare a hole into me, "She's my...mom."

"Ok...so what?"

"Well, Dave --"

"Did you just call me Dave?" 

Before I could respond, he cut me off, "Did you call me Dave? No one calls me that but my friends, are you my friend?"

"Umm--" 

"No, don't answer, you are not my friend: do not call me Dave!"

"I'm sorry, it's just that, umm," my mind had left my body at that point: I was just rambling. "You know, she's like, oh you know, you do what you...do, and she's, like, my mom."




WrestleMom



"You don't want me hitting on your mom, is that it?"

"Yeah..."

He chuckled to himself, then immediately put a serious expression on his face: "You telling me what to do?"

"I wasn't --" 

"You were telling me what to do," he, again, chuckled to himself. "Me? Telling me what to do? You don't want me fucking your mom, is that it?"

"Well, yeah--"

"Shut up! You think I won't fuck your mom!? You think I won't!?"

He stepped back, collected his thoughts, pointed his finger at me, and stated: "Look, all of us here fuck moms, we all do, all us top guys, moms are what's in, we like hot moms, the whole fucking company is P.G now, only moms and pre-teens show up and we ain't looking to go to jail." 

He paced back and forth while I stood in terror: "And those moms, they know what to do -- and they want it! Oh boy, they really want it, but they got one problem," he pushed his finger into my chest, "Punks like you! Who think they have some sort of right over who their mom fucks!" He was literally fuming, his whole body turning red. He pointed over to the distance and said, "That's why we got guys like him!" I looked over and saw a very tan Japanese man, who I recognized as a pro-wrestler called Funaki, "Guys like him, who look after the kids while we fuck their moms! Yeah! And for speaking up! You're on Mother Fucker Duty tonight, yeah! I'm gonna send you some kids to look after while I FUCK their moms! You got that?" He got close to my face and barked loudly: "Don't you EVER tell me what to do! EVER!"

Batista walked off in an absolute rage. I quickly ran over and introduced myself to Funaki. 

***

Me and Funaki talked about contemporary Japanese pro-wrestling while we showed the kids around the arena. As we were giving the kids some free stuff, I noticed a guy who looked around my age; dark hair, medium-height, Caucasian, wearing a white shirt and white pants, leading a group of four kids. 

"Aw right, aw right, no more screaming kiddies," he spoke in a cockney English accent. 

He seemed really distressed. "You need some help?" I asked.

"Aw mate, they driving me nuts!"

"Hey, Funaki, can you take these four kids with you?"

"No problem," he replied. He ushered the kids away, probably took them back to their well-spent moms. 

After the kids had gone, I looked at the guy and said, "Mother Fucker Duty?"

"Aw man! They never mentioned this in the dirt sheets! Hey, thanks for that, man, can you believe Hayes still gets pussy?"

"Him!? Yeah, I know it, first hand. I fucking hate that guy."

"You ain't a fan of that guy either? Me too, mate, that guy is a Grade-A prick, he can go fuck himself!" 

"Ha, yeah, all the way back to Mid-South, where his career actually mattered."

"Oh, you a 'mark' too?" he said with some surprise, 'mark' being an insider wrestling term for fan, which is also used among hardcore wrestling fans as a term they use for each other. 

"Yeah...oh I'm Lou."

"Oh me? I'm Will."

"What's with the get-up?" I asked as I pointed at his white shirt and pants.

"I'm a masseuse, they recruited me when they were in England, they have let me ride along for the whole European tour, pretty sweat yea."

"Yeah, pretty good deal."

He waggled his finger at me, "I see what you're thinkin', I know what you wanna ask: the answer is no, I don't get to rub down any of the fit Divas, only the top guys make me massage them and shit...and besides," he rubbed the back of his neck while looking down at the ground, "Those chicks would know I would enjoy it." 

I was impressed by his candour. "Ha, yeah, at least you're honest about it."

"Yeah, yeah...so you a ring guy?" he pointed to my black shirt which had the company logo on it. 

"Well, yeah, sorta, umm, more of a guest."

"Oh I see, so you been invited by someone? Is it a wrestler?"

"Yeah."

"So you're related to one of them?"

"Oh yeah."

"Oh that is so wicked, man! Which one is it?"

"Tina Torrile."

"Wow, so you're her brother or something?"

"Son."

He put his hand over his mouth in disbelief, "No fucking way, no way, I-I read about her having a son and all, but it's always been, like, a legend. No shit, no fucking way, you're her son! What age are you, mate?

"Eighteen."

"No shit!" he said in shock, "I'm only twenty, so your mum has a son around my age! She looks so fit -- whoa, whoa, sorry, sorry mate, she's your mum and all."

"Ha, it's cool," I said as I laughed awkwardly.

Will looked at his watch, "Oh shit, it's one already, which bus you taken, mate?"

"I usually go on the production one."

"Oh, me too, let me pick my stuff up, we'll ride together, cool, mate?"

"Cool, cool..."

***

It was very early in the morning. I was sitting in the back of the bus. It was just me and four snoozing catering guys who were sitting at the front, a lot of empty rows from where I was seated. I saw Will and waved him over. 

"Pretty packed bus eh?" he said with a cheeky grin. 

"Ha, yeah, you be grateful I saved you a seat."

He sat one seat away from me. Seconds later, the bus got going. Will was giving me a look of quiet amazement. 

"Wow, I'm still trying to get my head around it: you are the son of Tina Torrile...wow. That is so epic, proper epic."

"I never really thought of it like that, I mean, yeah, I grew up having a mom as a wrestler, but I never told anyone in school, so I guess this would be the reaction."

"Didn't tell anyone, mate?"

"I didn't want to, they would've all been bugging me about her, I would've been ripped by all the guys for having a mom that is a wrestler."

Will nodded his head, "Yeah, mate, I can imagine...Tina Torrile, that's so fucking insane! You won't believe this, but I've been following your mum since I saw her in one of my bro's issues of Super-Luchas."

"My mom was in Super-Luchas?" (Super-Luchas being a Mexican wrestling magazine)

"Yeah, yeah, she was wearing these...umm...fuck! Umm, you know those really tiny jean-shorts."

"Daisy dukes?"

"Yeah! That's it! She had on these daisy duke shorts, and, like, a country shirt, it was all tied-up," he paused for a second, then laughed to himself, "I'm sorry, I'm such a dick, fuck; I forget she's your mum and all."

I wanted to hide my genuine excitement, so I brushed his comment off. "Ha, it's cool, no problem." I was thinking about my mom posing for a magazine in her younger days. My curiosity got the better of me when I asked Will a question.

"Hey, Will, was my mom in any other magazines?"

He gave me a puzzled look, "You don't know which mags your mum has been in?"

"Nah, I don't think she was much of a collector."

"Well," he pondered as he rubbed his chin, "other than Super-Luchas, she was in Weekly Gong, the women's edition."

"Oh right, Weekly Gong, the Japanese wrestling mag? Right?"

"Yeah, she did a bikini shoot with Takako Inoue (A popular Japanese women's wrestler)"

I felt a real buzz go through my body when I heard that. I cleared my throat and remarked, "Inoue, eh? Wow, I always had a lil' crush on her."

Will grabbed my shoulder and playfully shook me. "Fuck! You gotta tell me you met her, right? You lucky fuckin'-"

"Hahaha! Hey, hey! No, I never got to meet her."

He let go off me and sighed, "Man, you don't wanna know, you just don't wanna know the things, the stuff, that I would be doing if I had a mum with your hook-ups." Will then looked around the bus, lowered his voice, crouched down a little, and said, "Mate, on the level, proper on the level, yeah? I see no downsides to having a mum like yours."

"Umm...Thank you?" I laughed awkwardly. 

He had an apologetic expression on his face when he said, "Mate, I'm sorry, I can't hide it, I think your mum is proper, proper fit."

"Fit? Yeah, she's in good shape and all--" 

"No, no, no, when I say she's fit, I'm saying she's sexy and all."

"Oh."

"I envy you, mate, you got the perfect mum, she's proper perfection"

"Ok, hold on a minute, are you trying to say that you would find my mom to be hot, even if you were in my shoes?"

He put his hands up in the air, "Mate, I can't lie, I can't lie..."

"Oh, well, you know, I guess it's...an opinion..."

There was a minute-long silence between the two of us. Will then leaned back in his seat, coughed loudly and suddenly began to speak: "Since I've become a masseuse, I've had so many friends and family come up to me and say, 'hey Will, my neck is a bit stiff,' or, 'Will, mate, my shoulders are killing me,' it's always a proper...umm..."

"Chore?"

"Yeah, that's it, chore. It's always a proper chore when they ask me to rub them somewhere, though there is one family member it's never a chore for: My aunt." He smiled to himself then shook his head, "Mate, you don't know my aunt, she's only about thirty, ten years or so older than me, she's closer to my age than my mum's...I, I." he laughed to himself, "When I was younger, I had a lil' thing for her," he then started waving his arms and laughing hysterically, "Mate, it's not like what it sounds! I didn't have a lil' 'thing' for her, you know, physically!"

"Right, right, I get it."

"Yeah, so anyways, I had not seen her in a proper long time, till like a year ago, I met her for the first time in, fuck, in ages... when I saw her, mate, she was just the same, but, oh man, she had changed so much, she was taller, bigger tits, nicer rounder arse, heavier, not like heavy as in fat, like she had filled out, you know?"

"She had become a woman."

"Yes, that's exactly what happened: she turned into a proper woman, more curves and stuff. So her and my mum was talking, and my mum leaves to go shopping, which leaves me and my aunt alone. As we're talking, my aunt points at my massage table, which is always in the living room 'cause my mum uses it to iron the clothes, so I ask her, if she has any problems, and she says her back, her back hurts a little." Will rubbed the palm of his left hand as he continued to talk: "So I leave the room to go wash my hands, 'cause, you know, I'm a professional. I come back in the room and there she is: her clothes were on the floor and she had wrapped herself with a towel."

"Whoa."

"Yeah, mate, there she was, smiling at me. I didn't expect that, I just thought she would hop on the table, not strip off! So she lays down on the table, I push her towel down, and rub her back...and I keep rubbing and she really likes it, 'cause I'm purposely hitting her pleasure points. She then tells me to get on top, so I get on top of her and rub her back, then she turns around, grabs me, and, well, we fucked..."

"...Wow, that's incredible."

"Yeah, it was...You know, I never told anyone that before."

"Well, I understand why. Oh whoa, wait a minute, was she a blood relation? Was she your mother's sister?"

"Yep, mate: I did full-blown incest and don't feel bad about it at all."

"Wow," I looked out at the scenery, gazing at the Spanish hillside, absorbing all that had been said. "What happened afterward?" I asked. 

"Oh, fuck knows. She left the next day, probably felt weird and shit."

"Yeah, yeah...you know, it's funny, you mention your aunt was, like, only ten years older than you. She must have felt more like a cousin than an aunt."

"Yea, exactly like that."

"It's the same for me with my mom. She's kinda like a sister sometimes."

Will paused, then wagged his finger at me, "I knew you would draw a link between my aunt and your mum."

"Why is that?" I said defensively. 

"Well, I think we both have the same sorta weird feelings for them...Come on, mate: Tina, fucking, Torrile for a mum! Don't lie; you can't say you don't want even a little piece of that?"

"It's-it's not like that, she's my mom."

"Aw come on, mate, no need to lie to me. Look, ok? Who am I going to tell?"

I was cracking under the pressure, "I mean, she's my mom, it should not be like that."

"'It should not be like that' you say?"

"Oh...Okay, okay, I admit it: I think my mom is a babe, but she's always been more like a sister, you gotta know that."

"Don't even explain," his voice had taken a more serious tone, "Don't even bother to explain it to me: every guy deep down would agree with you, mate. Fuck those that don't."

I breathed a huge sigh of relief. It felt surprisingly good, telling him all that. 

"How did you know?" I asked.

He had that cheeky grin back on his face, "Your cheeks went all red when I told you your mum had been in those magazines."

"Ha, yeah."

"But fuck those magazines, mate, she's your mum! You must have seen her naked?"

"Well, I have seen her in the shower and in her underwear a couple times." I deliberately left out the fact that all those moments had happened recently.

"Fucking hell!" he said in amazement, "W-what's her bum like when it's bare?"

"Amazing, very round."

"Fuck! Oh that is just too much, that is just too much. Hey, you ever try it on with her?"

"What!? Hell no, I'm still her son, I would be knocked back!"

"Yeah, yeah...You still wanna do, you know, all that kinda stuff with her."

"Well, I wouldn't say no."

"That's what I like to hear, honesty is always good." he leaned back in his chair and pondered for a moment. "If only, if only, we could get your mum in the same situation I got my aunt in."

"Yeah, you could," I said half-jokingly. 

"Yeah, I could, she's on my list you know?"

"Your list?"

"Yeah, my list," he reached into his front pocket and took out a little black book. As he was holding it, the bus hit a bump and he dropped it on the floor. He picked it back up, then showed it to me. "This is my list of all the people who have requested massages. I never get around to them 'cause the top guys keep hogging me."

"My mom's on it?"

"Yeah, mate," he said as he flipped through the book. "She wants someone to work on her...back."

"Her back? Oh wow, just like with your aunt."

"Yeah, but that's no surprise, every wrestler has back problems from falling down on that mat each night."

"That is true."

He tapped the book on the chair while thinking, "Hmm...You have her phone number, mate?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Ok..." He spoke quietly, "You got her number, I can phone her, I'll say, 'would you like a back massage, I can do it for you today.' Yeah, I can do that...nah, it's too crazy, I could get in trouble. Ah forget I said anything! It's way too risky."

"Hey, what was your plan?" I asked eagerly. 

"Well, since I know you, and you know your mum's number, I planned to phone her and get her on the table and do my thing to her, but that's just too risky and dumb, 'cause if I get her all excited, she will know it was a set-up for me to do that." He looked at me, then suddenly backed away, "Whoa, mate! Where is my fucking head!? I just told you I planned to fuck your mum on a massage table!"

"Hahaha, nah, it's cool, I was actually going along with it."

"You were, like, proper going along with it?"

"Yeah, I think it would've been hot."

"Really, like, on the level, yeah?"

"Yeah, one-hundred percent." The thought of my naked mother being penetrated on a massage table was something I really liked. 

"That's good, 'cause I might not be able to do it, but you, you could."

I was taken aback. "Huh, me? What?"

"Yeah, mate, you."

"How me?"

"I'll just say you're a Spanish massager who specialises in backs."

"Won't she know it's me?"

"Well, she'll be lying down face-first on the table, but if you're worried she will spot you, I got a facemask right here, I'll even let you borrow a spare uniform, what ya say?"

"I-I don't know, it sounds really risky." 

"Look, mate, it's a win-win, I'll go in first, I'll tell her to get on the table, you go in, she won't know it's you, you touch her up, you're happy, she's happy, we're all fucking happy. And before you ask what's in it for me, well, I just think it will be so fucking hot! Tina's son rubbing his mum's body without her knowing, come on, tell me that don't do it for you?"

"I-I do like it."

"So you in, mate?"

I nodded intently, "Ok, ok, I'm in."

"Great! Now gimme her number; gotta do this quickly." 

I handed him my phone, showed him which number was hers, he put the number into his phone and rang her. Will adopted a more posher English accent as he spoke: "Ah hello, it is me, William the masseuse. I have a six am opening and was wondering if you would...Oh, you would love one you say, your back must be... ah yes...yes, oh I do know... Fantastic, I'll set it up, oh I hope you don't mind, but I shall be sending my Spanish colleague, umm, Eduardo over to help, he is a back specialist...ok that's great... you too... Bye-bye." 

He looked at me with glee on his face, "It's on, mate! It's well and truly on!"

For the reminder of the trip, he prepped me on what I needed to do for my 'appointment.' The hours flew by quickly and before I knew it, I was waiting outside a Portuguese hotel room, in a white facemask, shirt and pants.

***

The Portuguese hotel was actually built more like a motel, which I didn't mind at all, as that meant the rooms had windows I could peek through. It was early in the morning, with no one else around. All that was behind me was a nondescript half-empty parking lot. I watched from afar as Will gave my mom her instructions. After giving her the layout of what was to happen, he pointed her to the bathroom, then rushed out the room.

"Wow, mate, I just met Tina Torrile! She is so much fitter in person. I was asking her about GAEA, Triple A, what Antonio Pena was really like and -- whoa wait, oh shit, there is something I almost forgot: you see those candles I put on the bedside table?" 

I looked into the room and saw two large candles with white smoke neatly coming out from them.

"Yeah, I see them."

"Good, good, those are something extra I added. The smoke from those candles will make your mum more 'suggestible,' if you know what I mean. The great thing is, is that it won't affect you, cause you got a face mask on, but you gotta let her inhale it, so take your time with her."

"Ok, got it."

"Nice, nice, mate, now wait for her to lie down on the table so she don't see you come in. Good luck!" Will slinked away to the corner so he could watch. I crouched down and waited for my mom to get on that table. I took a look at my surroundings. I saw that the room had a brown shag carpet, a small bed and a small television, in all a pretty cosy room. My mom came out from the bathroom with a white towel around her body. She looked around the room, then, laid down face-first on the black leather massage table, with her head neatly fitting around the head-rest. 

Will gave me the signal; I stood up, shook of my nerves, turned the door knob and entered the room. Almost immediately after I had walked in, I felt this intense heat that shrouded the room. I took a moment to compose myself, then, crept over to the massage area. I saw my mom lying there, with her hair dangling down her sides, unaware of my presence. 

"Ahem," I cleared my throat and adopted a deep Spanish accent, "Hello, I am Eduardo, the massager."

"Oh hi there, I'm Tina," she sounded quite tired. 

I hesitantly stepped closer and put my hand on her towel, "May I?"

"Huh, oh yeah, sure."

As I slowly slid the towel down her body, I could feel my heart go a 1000mph, my throat itching from the heat, but at the exact same time, I was also incredibly excited. As I pulled it down, the towel untied around her body, came loose and exposed the sides of her breasts and her bare back. I lowered the towel down to her legs, getting it just about near her ass, almost exposing it. I cracked my fingers and lowered the tips down to her gorgeous, golden brown skin. When I made contact with her body, I felt a tingling sensation go all over me. I pushed down gently, rolling my tips around her back, moving them around that whole back-region, enjoying the feel of her soft supple skin.