Stephanie was patrolling the arena, making the last check tour. There were some crew members staying for the night, to remove the ring and more. She was checking if there was wrestlers still in the arena. She sighed deeply seeing there was one left : Mark, alias The Undertaker.

She knocked on the door of his lockerroom, and entered without waiting for an answer. She froze. Mark was sleeping on the bench in boxers, his naked feet flat on the floor, his body too wide and too big for the bench.

Steph felt her mouth go dry and suddenly wet. She has always had a bit of crush on him, even as she was happily married. Mark let out a small moan and stroked his chest before letting his hand fall. Steph knew she had to wake him up, his health was giving him troubles, and obviously he had been too tired to even dress. She walked to him slowly, and shook his shoulder gently. He grunted and caught her arm from the hand furthest to her and pulled her across his body.

"Little Stephanie... Don't you know it's dangerous to wake a deadman up ?"

"Mark !"

She was laying on him, body length against body length. Mark cupped her face.

"Princess... I've been waiting for you..."

"What ?"

"I know about your last checking tour. Decided to wait up for you"

"You were hoping to get lucky"

"You seem to love the buffet. You looked at me as if I was a good piece of steak."

"You've imagined it, Deadman ! I'm married to one of your coworker, and I'm happil-"

Mark thought that talking was overrated and kissed her, his goatee stroking her chin as his lips firmly applied against Steph's. She was flabbergasted he would dare do this. It was known that Mark and her husband Paul disliked each other greatly and she didn't want to be caught in the middle. She figured Mark was doing this to get back to Paul for something. Mark took benefit of her confusion to slip his tongue into her mouth and stroke it to hers. He felt her starting to kiss him back, no doubt remembering the kisses they shared when they were younger.

Steph could feel his hardening cock poking into her stomach and he broke the kiss looking at her through hooded eyes.

"I want you" he declared in a sultry voice, and he sat up to unbutton her shirt. She was in his lap, their hips pressing together. He was huge. Even on his lap, she barely reached her shoulder, and her arm couldn't encircle him. He stroked her shirt away from her, and unhooked her bra.

He gave a genuine smile as he weighted her full breasts. "Perfect" he whispered before kissing her hungrily.

Steph kissed him back, not wanting to think about what she was doing, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing him even closer. She knew Mark was not a man to be caged in a relationship, his divorces and endless flings were proof of it. She knew it meant nothing to him. She knew it and accepted it. Plus, from rumors, Mark was a real good lover and she wanted to enjoy the moment.

Mark felt her grinding her groin onto his erected cock. She got up and removed her jeans and panties, feeling Mark's heated gaze on her. He got up, joined and kissed her, his big hands cupping her delicate face, his lips nudging hers open to ease access for his tongue. He removed his boxers bending at the waist.

"I want you", she repeated, using his words. "I want you so much."

"For years... Since that black wedding, I have been wanting you from afar. My Big Evil days... When I was being your protector..." He smirked. "I'd have fucked you gladly."

Stephanie hugged him. "So long ?"

"Yes..."

Finally, their flesh touched. Mark lifted her face and kissed her, leading her to the bench. He made her sit, and knelt in front of her. She stroked her neck lovingly, kissing him again.

"Spread your legs"

She did, a shiver of pure lust going down her spine. Mark's tongue had been an object of fantasy of hers for years. She felt him go down on her, proving she wasn't wrong in her dreams. Using the flat of his tongue to part her folds, the tip of her tongue to tease her clit and to enter her, his goatee, his moustache and nose touching her sex in waves of delirious sensations. Mark licked his way up to her mouth, kissing her hungrily, making her yearn for more. Her lower body was burning. Wetness was running down her thighs, coating Mark's goatee and mouth, and she was tasting herself on him. He grabbed her waist, and pulled her forward, making her straddle his hips, and sit down on his cock. Stephanie gasped out at feeling her sex being stretched out so suddenly. He settled her down at the lowest he could without hurting her, supporting her weight. She hugged his neck tight, nestling her face in his neck. Her breaths were short and erratic and he lowered her down to the floor, pining her down with his hips, hovering over her. He kissed her, arching his back to do because of his height. He put his elbows over her head to support his big weight.

He made love to her, kissing her, her lips, her throat. His long black hair appearing like a curtain of darkness around them, closing them up in their own little world. He lasted as much as he could, riding their orgasm, the tensing of their body... He looked into her eyes and let himself go. He rested his big body next to her small one, their legs entangled and felt a rush of coldness as his limping cock slid out from her warm shelter.

"You ok... Princess ?"

Her answer was to roll him on his back and pecking his lips.

"Very fine, Deadman" She smiled against his lips and she got up, smiling more at his sprawled form, sperm and juices coating his thighs and groin. "You need a shower, Mark"

"You too, Princess"

"I'll take it in my hotel room. Paul's out with Randy and John tonight."

"No chance for you to join me ?"

She laughed. "Not a chance in hell, Deadman"

Mark smiled graciously and got up, pecking her lips, and took his soap from his bag.

"Tomorrow... you'll make another round like tonight ?" He asked.

"Of course."

"I'll be waiting for you, then !"

He winked at her and went into the showerstall. Her laugh came to him as she exited.

END.

Stephanie McMahon strode down the corridors of the Chicago arena. Smackdown was being filmed tomorrow, and as usual, it meant that she was the first arrived and the last departed. She settled down in the room she had been given to set up her office. She pinned a paper on the wall, with her name written on it. There was a desk and an armchair, a small couch in one corner, piles of files on the desk. Her assistant was really efficient. The wrestlers were having days off and they would arrive today or tomorrow.

There was one she was looking forward to see, on the smackdown roster. She had an appointement with him, needing to have his opinion on his new Tshirt design. Usually, the wrestlers wasn't asked, but this one was particular. He was the old wolf, the locker-room leader, but he wasn't only that. To Stephanie, this man was smart, intuitive, witty and very creative and bonus : he came into a very handsome package. Though the word handsome might not be a good one to describe him, he was rugged, his face wasn't beautiful by normal cannon, but he was exsuding a raw sensuality, a manliness that overwhelmed his every gesture, and his rare smiles were killers.

She heard sudden knocks on the door, she recognized his heavy and energic ones. She felt a sudden giddiness in her chest, and she berated herself for feeling like a schoolgirl. Of course it didn't help that she had had a crush on him during all her teen years and that he had been the first man to kiss her. He had made his life, and she had made hers, but he was still fond of her, never hiding his neverending affection toward her despite her husband's possessiveness. She had married, had kids, but even afar, she liked him. Sometimes they slept together, he had decided to prey on her after another breakup with his girlfriend, and obviously, he kept himself in check since their romp.

She heard knocks again, he was getting impatient.

"Come in !" She said.

The door opened, and the huge man that was Mark Calaway came in. He was wearing a bandana tied around his brow, a tight-fitting Tshirt, stretching over his massive biceps and chest, and jeans. Her husband Paul was one of those men made to wear jeans, but Mark... When he decided to wear tight jeans instead of baggy ones, he could be called the God of Jeans. His green eyes softened when he saw and he gave her one of those killer smiles.

"Princess..."

"Deadman..."

Those nicknames were their usual greetings.

Fuck, she was cute, Mark thought. She was barely reaching his shoulder, it was hurting his back to lower himself to her size, but since their first kiss when they were 17 and 28, he had been addicted to her lips. Plus she had breasts to die for and he was a breasts man. Generally, he tried to resist when he was with someone, but when he was single... All bars were off.

Mark asked her in his dark sensual voice : "You wanted me... to come?" Stephanie shivered, double-entendres, that voice... She thought Mark was a big tease, a real male tart.

"Yes" she managed to answer. "Merchandising..."

He cocked an eyebrow. She shook her head, coming back to her senses. After all, Mark may be appetizing and all, but she had work all over the head.

"We have a new Tshirt to show you."

"Alright" Mark answered, with a smirk.

She bent herself, showing off her ass to him on purpose and she heard him grunt. She searched her little suitcase, and pulled out a grey Tshirt.

"Deadman forever" She announced proudly, turning on her heels to face Mark. Mark who was much closer than where he was twelve seconds ago. Men like him shouldn't be able to walk that silently and fastly. She showed him the winged demon design, and he smiled. He nodded.

"I like it. It's nice to see a design that's not crap"

She chuckled. "Those crap Tshirts are for kids, Mark."

"When will they make 'Princess Forever' Tshirts ? I'd wear one."

She laughed, imagining the scene.

Stephanie looked at his open face and sighed. Their appointment was over.

"Well Mark"

He suddenly removed his Tshirt and she gaped.

"Want me to model it ?" He put on the Tshirt, not really leaving her the time to really check him out.

"Mark, it looks good on you, it's a pity Taker doesn't wear Tshirts."

Mark chuckled and said in a definitely pervert tone : "Want to remove it from my body?"

She turned suddenly serious, she had no time but it was soooooo tempting. She took a decision, the may not have time for the whole nine yards, but they could have some fun. She pushed him against the desk and smiled. Mark stood straighter and hugged Stephanie against his body. It felt good, somehow, to have his Princess in his arms. He wouldn't confess, he had a reputation, after all. Having her in his arms, he felt more whole than with any of the other women. He felt her kissing his left nipple through the Tshirt.

"Remove it, Princess!"

"In due time, Deadman"

She kissed him gently, her lips moving over his, and opened her lips for his tongue. He slid her hands down her back to stroke her ass, and he lifted her, making sure to stroke her body up along his. She felt his erection against her.

"Stephanie..."

"Alright, let me down"

Mark obeyed and she removed his Tshirt, pressing herself against his body, her lips attached to his chest. Mark panted, his short breath losing itself on her hair. She stroked his ass and she murmured softly, her breath warming the spot of cooling wetness where her mouth had been.

"Mark.. There's no"

"Time, I know. "

She opened his fly and let out his hard member. She took it in her hand and she led him by the cock to the couch, and she pushed him down. He sat down, smiling brightly. She did the same, smiling back flirtily. His hard cock was proudly out, resting against his Tshirt. Steph bent and pushed the foreskin back exposing his reddish tip. His arms laid out on the couch on each side of him, Mark was panting slightly, totally still, observing Stephanie's every moves.

She stole a kiss, pecking his neck. He captured her lips, kissing her deeply as her hand stroked him. Mark cupped her groin, opened the button of her trousers, and slipped his hand inside her pants, inside her thong, never stopping kissing her.

"Yer wet" He whispered between their kisses. He fingered her, thumb against her clit, the other digits into her. Steph was stroking him firmly, squeezing his tip, just like he liked.

Mark felt tingling in his belly and he started to thrust up in her hand. He moaned loud in her mouth. He fastened his fingering, feeling her yanking her hips, fighting to keep his fingers inside her. Her muscles tightened violently around her digits before relaxing. The stroking of her hand slowed and loosened. Mark whimpered, he was so close...

"Steph... Please"

Stephanie, red in the face, panting, looked at Mark, who was really looking pitiful, at that moment, mouth opened, eyes begging her to finish him. She took his wrist and slipped it out from her trousers. She bent and took his cock in her mouth sucking gently. His hand immediately came to her hair, his eyes hypnotized by his cock entering her warm mouth, her lush lips closed around him.

"Princess... I'm about to cum..." Mark was a man, and as such loved watching women swallow his cum. But he was also a gentleman and refused to do so without a consent from the said women.

Steph swallowed his seed when he came, trying not to trash his hips. After she had her teeth around a very precious part of his anatomy. She straightened and kissed him full on the lips. He gave it back enthousiastically, pulling her against his chest. He laid his brow against hers.

"You must go, Mark. I must see the ring is well-built and check security."

Mark knew better than to argue when Stephanie used her professional "I'm a powerful McMahon" voice. He got up, and smirks at seeing Stephanie's swollen lips. He flicked his thumb over her lips, a deep tenderness appearing in his eyes. A blink and it was gone.

"I bet your lower lips are as swollen as the upper ones" He ended up saying.

Steph didn't even answer, it was true anyway.

"Lick your fingers, Deadman"

"Sure Princess."

He licked his fingers, still covered in her juice and felt her tucking his limp penis in. He shivered at her touch.

He walked toward the door and stopped.

"You think one day we'll end up waking up together in the same bed ?"

Steph looked at his back for a long moment before answering : "One never knows, Mark. One never knows..."

Mark grinned, at least he had planted the idea in her head. That nice thought made him smile as he made his way to his lockerroom. Maybe he could wait for her again tonight. What a nice plan.

THE END.

Taker and Steph are their own person, I'm just playing around with them.

Mark was waiting for Stephanie. He checked his watch : 3 am. She was late. Mark gave a kick to the lowest rope. Maybe she hadn't been able to leave her hotel room ? Mark looked around. The arena was huge, the gigantic titantron like a huge black hole in the hall of the arena.

She should have been there since half an hour and Mark was wondering if it had been a good idea. Tomorrow he was fighting CM Punk in a coffin match and at 3am even he deserved sleep. He had trained with Punk - with Phil - earlier and the coffin was still there, open. Mark knew those coffins well, they were well-padded and solid, made to resist male wrestlers throwing each other inside.

Arms snaked around his waist from behind.

"Mr Calaway.. You seemed so deep in your thoughts I didn't want to disturb you."

"You're late !"

"Unlike some, I am married thus have to distract a certain husband to come join you."

Mark flashed a rare smile.

"Finally admitting I'm your official lover ?"

"Certainly not. You're a scum low Texan wrestler."

"Ya forgot Biker."

"Low scum biker."

"Mister Low scum biker to you"

Steph couldn't help chuckling and tightened her embrace around his waist. Mark grunted in fake pain, with a teasing grin.

"I think you mentioned a wrestling lesson, Mister Low Scum Biker"

"It sounds like you want to chokeslam the big bad Taker."

Steph laughed. "I'd so want to chokeslam the world champion..."

Her hands lowered from his waist to his groin and stroked it happily. Mark was just as happy. He turned suddenly in her hands and took her hand from his groin to his throat.

"Better your hand here to chokeslam me, my dove."

Her hand tensed around his throat but he kept perfectly fine and relaxed, he trusted her.

"Hold on tight" he whispered. He suddenly jumped up and fell flat on his back at Stephanie's feet, a light laughter escaping him. To an outsider, it did look like Stephanie McMahon-Levesque had indeed chokeslammed the big bad Undertaker. The ring bounced under the impact and then stilled. Steph smirked and announced in her ring-arrogant voice :" Good you're at your place, at my feet".

No sooner had she said that Mark grabbed her ankles and pulled hard. She fell heavily next to him, the ring taking away a lot of the impact and he literally attacked her mouth with him. She didn't really know how in one sec she had gone from standing up to being kissed and pinned under his weight, and honestly she didn't care. All she cared about was all the good feelings he made her feel.

Mark froze suddenly. He tensed and looked up toward the ramp. Steph gave out a little moan and found his big hand covering the lower part of her face to make her shut up.

"There's someone", he whispered.

"What ? No everyone left"

Mark shook his head. "Obviously not"

The voices were coming closer. Mark jumped to his feet, taking Steph up with him. He lept toward the coffin, yanking her forward. He rolled gracefully into the coffin, the cushionning making his landing comfortable, while Stephanie just crashed heavily and disgracefully into his hard side. Mark closed the lid upon them.

Now they were in the dark, stuck. Stephanie was aching, she slapped his shoulder hard.

"Bitch."

His single word managed to enrage her. She started to kick and punch him. Mark actually loved his little fury, he pinned her under him, using his weight to keep her still and soothed her with soft kisses. "Sshhh... My love... Please... Stay quiet. I think they're inspecting the ring !" He kissed her over and over, little kisses raining all over her face.

Stephanie could feel herself melting, Mark was just the thing for her. He loved her very much, he knew she loved him, just less than her husband. Enough to be willing to betray her family, but not enough to want to do anything serious with him.

The two techs were circling the ring, chatting amongst them. They were tired, they were doing stuff they had already done. But Taker had paid them 5,000 dollars each so that they do it again at 3.15 am and that's what they were doing.

In the coffin, Mark had slipped his hands in her panties and was having fun making her mewl like a kitten and kissing her to swallow her moans and sighs of pleasure. He heard the techs leaving but didn't deem it useful to mention.

Her little hands freed his cock and stroked him, eliciting whimpers from him. Steph was kissing Mark back, rolling her hips up, meeting his hand shamelessly. She opened his fly and let out his hard cock and sat down on it. Mark gasped, his mouth opened as his eyes rolled backward in pleasure.

She thrusted down on him, making sweet love to him. Mark didn't dare thrust up for fear of sending Stephanie straight into the closed lid. He knew he wouldn't last, already he was feeling tinglings in his guts.

"Oh Stephanie..."

He was stroking her skin, unable to get enough of her. Their climax hit them hard, sudden, rushed, leaving them panting and gasping for air in the tight enclosed space. Mark kissed Steph passionately, wanting more.

Stephanie grinned wide, her lover had given her much pleasure. She bent down and kissed his cheek, adjusting her skirt and panties properly.

"Paul's waiting, Mark, I must go."

"As always."

Stephanie opened the lid of the coffin and let herself out. Mark grinned happily at her and blew a kiss. Steph caught it and faked putting in her inner pocket.

"See you later"

And with those three words, Stephanie left Mark once more alone in his lonelyness.