Claiming His Virgin In the Ring: The Filthy Wrestling Club Read online

  But it was, and taking a deep breath, I forced myself to leave the living room as graciously as possible, my back ramrod straight and head held high. Unfortunately, my curves swayed as always, making my stepmom titter.

  “Every day!” she called after me in a singsong voice. “Remember that, Lily!”

  And I grimaced, although she couldn’t see. Because life wasn’t fair, but I’d find a way to survive … even if this killed me.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Lily

  I took a deep breath, looking at the concrete block in front of me. PETEY’S PLACE, the sign in front read in black block letters on a faded yellow background. There was nothing fancy about this place. It was a square, squat grey building with a couple beater cars in the parking lot. Nothing like what the other gyms looked like.

  Because I did a lot of research. There were all sorts of fancy gyms on the list, from The Box to Pilates Perfect. Each gym seemed to have more bells and whistles than the next with glass-walled studios, hundreds of machines, and a modelesque clientele. I swear, the girls who worked out looked like budding actresses with their willowy limbs and whittled waists. They didn’t even sweat, for crying out loud.

  But I didn’t care about that. What I cared about was how each gym tracked membership because maybe there was a way around this ridiculous demand that I work out every day. Unfortunately, most places had fancy key fobs that you swiped when you went in, plus cameras mounted everywhere. There was no way I could fake those out.

  But Petey’s Place seemed different. It was grimy on the outside for one. The cars parked out front looked like they were ready for demolition, and not just re-sale. Hmmm. Promising. Maybe they did attendance the old-fashioned way, by hand. Or maybe they didn’t even check membership at all. Maybe they all knew each other so well that it was a visual inspection, a Yeah, you belong here, and not computers and key cards.

  So taking a deep breath, I marched forwards with my yoga mat slung over my shoulder. I’d squeezed myself into some gym clothes which were revealing as hell. Spandex tights squeezed my legs and I had a sports bra on that made my breasts hurt. Literally hurt, it was so tight. But my zip jacket hid my girls, making me look reasonably decent instead of Jessica Rabbit come to life.

  My hand reached out to open the door, and the first thing that hit me was the smell. To be honest, I’d been expecting some kind of disgusting sweat stench smell. But instead, a clean antiseptic scent hit my nostrils, and it soon became evident why.

  Because peering inside, I could see that this wasn’t just any type of gym. This was a place that wrestlers frequented. All around me were square rings elevated off the floor, with padded mats and men grappling with one other. My breath caught, eyes going wide. Because these were gorgeous men, I could see. Guys whose bodies strained, their muscles flexing and gleaming under the low lights. Grunts ran out as they sought to best one another, a tangle of powerful limbs and sheer masculine power.

  Suddenly, a voice cut through my reverie.

  “You here to work out?” it asked in a reedy whine. “Because that’s what we do.”

  I turned to find an old man staring at me, old and decrepit. He couldn’t have been more than five foot two with a tuft of white hair on his head and matching tufts sticking out of his ears. He was comically dressed in a red Adidas track suit, complete with a pair of sparkling, snow-white sneakers.

  “Um, yes, I’m here for a gym membership,” I said, cheeks coloring. “Is this Petey’s Place?”

  “Sign on the door says it is,” said the tiny gnome. “You here to wrestle?”

  “Um, well not wrestle exactly, but work out,” I said, eyes darting around. “Do you have machines and stuff? Like an elliptical trainer or maybe some weights?”

  “We got those,” he said with a cackle. “We got one elliptical trainer, one stationary bike, and one treadmill. You wanna see? I can give you a tour.”

  “Um sure,” I said, ducking my head. The guys at the gym were so athletic that I felt like a lump of round curves compared to the hard, oiled bodies around me. “Sounds good.”

  And with that, the old man turned.

  “Follow me,” he cackled, beckoning me down a hallway. “I’m Petey, by the way. And you are?”

  “Lily,” I said weakly, shaking his hand. The old man had a surprisingly strong grip with callouses, even if his hand was dry and weathered. “I’m here to work out.”

  “Why do you want to come here?” Petey asked as I followed him down the hall. “Surely a nice girl like you wants to go to a fancy gym. Not a place like this,” he said stamping his foot emphatically on the bare concrete floor. I could see why he thought that. With my jazzy work-out clothes and top of the line exercise mat, I looked like I belonged at some yuppie gym that had blaring dance music and acres of exercise equipment.

  But I’d already seen something in favor of Petey’s Place. There had been no computer at the front desk, and no scanner either. So how did they track visits in this place? Surely, they weren’t using the old library card system, with a signature stamped on a card? It was too easy to fake.

  So I dissembled a little.

  “Um, just want to lose a little weight,” I said with a weak smile. “This place seems as good as any.”

  Petey cackled, which soon became a cough as he doubled over, hacking.

  “You okay?” I asked, hurrying over to slap him on the back. The coughs continued, the old man wheezing and snorting.

  “I’m okay,” he straightened finally, eyes tearing. “Gettin’ old,” he said, “But this place keeps me young.”

  “Mm-hmm,” I said, eyeing him worriedly. “I have some water in my bag. Do you want some?”

  Petey shook his head, waving his scrawny arms.

  “No, I’m good, I’m good,” he said. “Now this here is our kickboxing room,” he said. “We keep the temperature up so that you get the best work-out possible.”

  I peered into a room that had mirrors on all four walls, as well as huge sandbags suspended from the ceiling. An array of men kicked and punched the bags in unison, letting out fierce grunts. Every single one of the guys was ripped and gorgeous, muscles bulging as they slammed invisible opponents.

  “Oh I see,” I said faintly.

  “You can try it,” said Petey. “No problem.”

  I shook my head.

  “No, I’m good,” was my hasty reply. “I just want to use the treadmill and maybe lift some weights.”

  “That’s good,” chortled Petey. “Because here we are at the weight room. We got more than a thousand free weights,” he boasted. “Not too much of those fancy machines that modern day people crave,” he said. “You use your body weight and free weights, and that’s more than enough.”

  I peered inside. Again, the place seemed to be populated by Adonises. The men inside were uniformly gorgeous, dressed in work out clothes as their muscles bulged, staring at themselves as they lifted and strained, pumping iron.

  I was just about to duck out of sight again when a figure caught my eye in the corner of the room. I almost didn’t see because the entire area was shadowy, dim, and easy to miss.

  But once my eyes caught a slip of movement, I saw him … and my breath escaped. Because the man standing there was a beast. Tall and powerful, with dark hair and a face cast in shadow. But I could see the hard line of his jaw, the outline of a powerful neck as well as shoulders so broad they were like a tank. All of that tapered into a perfect vee before flaring into powerful thighs as thick as tree trunks.

  “Oh!” came my soft gasp.

  And as if he heard me from across the room, the man turned and suddenly I was seized by eyes so penetrating that my heart stilled in my chest. Who was this male? Who was this amazing specimen of masculinity that made me grow weak inside, my face flushing and insides going loose from a mere look?

  “Oh,” I sighed quietly. “Oh god.”

  And to my horror, the man began striding toward us. As he neared, I could see he was everything the shadows p
romised. A powerful, harsh face with perfectly-molded lips. The planes of his cheekbones were sharp and carved, like that of a Greek god. And suddenly, my mouth went dry because I saw it.

  His cock. Huge, absolutely giant, winding around his waist like a powerful snake ready to attack. He had on a pair of tight spandex shorts that hid nothing, like what wrestlers wear. My mouth began watering uncontrollably. What would it feel like to have something like that inside me? What would it feel like to be impaled on something so powerful and massive, my femininity succumbing to this man?

  And as our eyes met, blue clashing with brown, suddenly I had a revelation. I, Lily Forrester, had to know what it was like to ride this beast ... or I’d die trying.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Shaft

  The first thing that I noticed about her was her scent. Not the voluptuous curves, not the curly brown hair tied in a ponytail. It was her scent.

  I stood in the corner of the weight room, working out on my own. Sure, some guys love showing off, banging the steel while grunting and groaning. But for me, it’s a lot more personal. So I do my own thing in the corner, letting the shadows hide my form.

  But still, the smell. In the middle of a lift, suddenly the scent of lilacs wafted into the room, and my head jerked to see who it was.

  A girl, so young it was almost comical. Her innocence shone from those wide brown eyes, her curves sassy and pronounced in those tight gym clothes. Oh yeah, even that baggy track jacket couldn’t hide giant tits, her lush thighs outlined in tight spandex.

  Because I love gym clothes for that reason. They’re not loose and baggy. Girls these days wear tight shit and I love it. It’s even better when they’re practically exploding out of their sports bras and tiny bike shorts. I love seeing rolls of flesh, the shadowy vee of their clefts outlined beneath almost-sheer spandex.

  It’s fucking heaven, I tell you.

  And this girl was possibly the best I’ve ever seen. Big, brown eyes, wide and innocent taking in the scene. A rosy pout parted just so, open with shock during her introduction to the gym. A thick waist and generous hips, topped off with a giant ass in back.

  Yeah, just my type.

  Even better, as I approached, the girl swung around to stare at me and I could see she wanted a taste. Yeah, her eyes were wide and shocked, dropping from my face to hungrily roam my body, stopping when she got to my cock.

  And that’s when the second shoe fell. Because the Shaft always gets them. It’s giant, and my wrestling outfit doesn’t hide much. Tight spandex shorts hugged my thighs, every ridge and curve in stark relief. The thick length wrapped around my waist, painfully obvious to anyone with eyes.

  It doesn’t matter most of the time. We’re mostly guys at Petey’s Place and we don’t look at each other’s junk. But with this girl, everything was different.

  And lo and behold, but she wanted it. An involuntary gasp left her lips, cheeks flaring with heat. Under my hot stare, those breasts began heaving, the outline of her nipples evident under the nylon of her gym top.

  Oh yeah, her nips were getting stiff, the scent of female pussy beginning to swirl in the air. All around me, guys were beginning to turn and stare, entranced by the scent of breeding female.

  But she belonged to me. This sweet thing was meant for the Shaft, and she was going to get it.

  “Hi Shaft!” cried old Pete, the proprietor of this place. “Good to see you.”

  I grunted noncommittally. I was here every day. The gym is my second home, after the office.

  “Hey,” was my smooth reply. “Who do you have here?” I asked, shooting my girl a sizzling look.

  To her credit, she didn’t turn into a bumbling fool, the way some women do.

  “I’m Lily,” she said in a dulcet voice, so soft that I almost missed it at first. “Nice to meet you,” she said, holding her hand out.

  My big paw swept out, engulfing hers as our eyes clashed, blue on brown. The contact was electric, even if it was just our hands.

  “Nice to meet you,” I growled when I could finally breathe again.

  “Nice to meet you too,” she murmured, a shy smile wreathing those lips. “Do you work out often?”

  “Every day,” I stated. “Why? You thinking of joining?”

  “Why yes,” she replied, cheeks flushing. “I thought I’d get in shape and ummm, lose some weight maybe.”

  I was about to say something about how she looked perfect, except Petey cut me off.

  “That’s what Petey’s Place is here for!” he crowed, shooting me a warning look. “We can meet all of your fitness needs.”

  I barely stopped myself from rolling my eyes because Petey is a scumbag. Business is booming between his regular memberships and the money we pay to participate in Battle Bang. But hey, the old guy is wily, and he’s survived for a long time for a reason.

  So I shut my trap, merely nodding noncommittally.

  “Sure, this gym is freakin’ awesome,” I intoned. “What are you looking to do?”

  She flushed again.

  “Maybe some treadmill,” she said in a brave voice. “I figure I can work on improving my twelve-minute mile.”

  My eyebrow raised.

  “Sweetheart, it’s not about time,” I said smoothly. “It’s about personal records and feeling your best. It’s most important to compete against yourself, and not some artificial goals set by others. Trust me, I know.”

  Her cheeks flushed.

  “Thanks, Shaft,” she said. “I appreciate it.”

  “Sure thing,” I growled. “Now where are you guys looking to go next?”

  Petey let out a cackle.

  “To the treadmills of course!” he crowed. “What the lady wants is what she gets.”

  And with one last look over her shoulder, the girl disappeared down the hall, shooting me a soft smile. I watched as her hips swung, that big butt beckoning to me. And smiling to myself, I let out a growl … because we’d just found a new victim for Battle Bang, and I was getting the first taste.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Lily

  “Ooof,” I grunted to myself as my sneakers hit the treadmill. “Ooof, oof!”

  This was pure hell. I had the machine set on low and yet I could barely keep up. Any slower and I’d be walking, but I wanted to go at a run. Or at least some type of jog. Walking was too easy and I didn’t want to give up before I’d even started.

  Because this is my first day at Petey’s Place. I’d signed up as soon as the tour was over yesterday.

  “So you’re sold, huh?” asked Petey, his eyes gleaming.

  I’d nodded.

  “Yes, it seems just right to me,” I said. “How does membership work?”

  “Well, I give you this,” said Petey, handing me a yellow paper card, “and you sign your name next to the date whenever you come,” he chortled.

  “No scanners?” I asked in what I hoped was an innocent manner. “No computers? No electronic documents?”

  Petey chortled again.

  “Naw, we’re old-fashioned!” he said jovially. “We don’t need fancy electronics at the front desk just like we don’t need fancy machines for work-outs. Sweat, muscle and agility,” he said mysteriously. “Those are the most important.”

  “Um, great!” I said with a smile. “Then sign me up!”

  And after he’d taken my gift card and added my name to some huge ledger book stowed under the front desk, I’d left, my exercise mat tucked tight under my arm. Because was this really happening? Had I just signed up for membership at a wrestling gym because of the man I’d seen? The huge, gorgeous one named Shaft with the giant appendage wrapped around his waist?

  Of course, I was telling myself it was because I could sign my name as often as I wanted in the yellow card without actually having to go to the gym. But there was an ulterior motive, for sure. I wanted to see Shaft again. I wanted to see those muscles bulge. I wanted to see his neck tense, his jaw flex as his balls rose, ready to shoot. I wanted to hold that huge cock
between my fists, kissing the tip before guiding it into myself.

  What are you thinking? shrieked the voice in my head. Are you nuts? You’re a virgin!

  Because that was the sad truth. I’m Lily Forrester, eighteen years old and untouched. Sure, there are lame boys at school who eye me up and down lasciviously, looking at my female shape. It’s disgusting to be honest. Their breaths stink like pepperoni and onions, and they don’t know anything other than what happened on the latest episode of Teen Wolf.

  Meanwhile, I’d just met a real wolf. Huge. Gorgeous. Dominant. Shaft made my head spin as my insides grew hot, preparing myself for him. Oh god, even thinking of him now as I slaved away on the treadmill was getting me excited.

  Stop it, the voice in my head scolded. You’re just a little girl he met randomly yesterday. He probably has women falling over him all the time.

  That was true, I acknowledged. But at the same time, I couldn’t stop myself from thinking of him. I wanted to see that huge cock and to hold it in my hands. I wanted to worship it on my knees, to feel it brushing against my plush folds as I moaned sweetly for him. I wanted to hold myself open as he plunged in, making me a woman.

  And suddenly, Shaft was here. A big form materialized behind me, and I sensed him rather than saw him at first. A frisson ran through the air, making me shiver, and I almost fell off the treadmill when I realized who was beside me.

  “Hi,” I stammered, pushing the stop button on the machine. The belt jerked to a halt so fast that I literally did fall then. Oof! Why don’t they tell you these things? Stop means stop, I get that. But did it have to halt so suddenly that I lost my balance?

  But the alpha was there. I tumbled backwards right into those strong arms, my plush form pressed against his male hardness.