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The Life of a Diva…
I’m not saying she does it on purpose or anything… just…
Okay, look at it this way. Say you’re 21. You go to a house show. You and your friends try to meet wrestlers afterwards at the restaurant at the hotel next door. With very little luck scoring any autographs, not seeing John Cena or anyone you like, you spot Tamina having a steak and a beer.
Swallowing your initial fear at her masculinity (which is far greater than yours), you approach her, asking if you can have a photo or an autograph?
She stares at you, chewing… almost boring a hole through you with her eyes.
“Uhhmm… nevermind” you say.
“Sit down,” she almost yells. You comply. “How old are you?” to which you reply telling her you’re only 21.
She finishes her beer, grabs you by the shoulder as she stands and says “C’mon.”
Tamina, who looks so much like her famous father you can barely look her in the face, rides you so hard, you’re afraid your cock will break.
She spoons you all night, holding your junk in her massive hands. You wake in the morning, too early… 6AM.
Tamina is up and preparing her bags. She throws your clothes at you, yelling “Get the fuck up, it’s morning.” As you buckle your belt, she’s pushing you out the door, but she turns you around for one final kiss. She hands you forty dollars and shuts the door, never even asking your name.
While you walk back to your car, still parked behind the Civic Center, Tamina is crying to herself… softly…
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