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Chyna Has A New Fan!
by Formerly Ty (

Chyna was on her way to Triple H's house in Connecticut when her car
broke down. She decided to walk the rest of the way. About half-way, she
noticed a car coming down the road. She decided to put her thumb out and
catch a ride

John was the driver, he thought it was too obvious. But he did stop.
He hasn't picked up a hitchhiker since he was in college. John always
figured that a cute girl standing by the side of the road with her thumb
in the breeze had to have a 250 pound boyfriend in the bushes, ready to
commandeer his car at knifepoint.

John always had this fantasy where he would take a WWF diva away
with his big cock and she would become his forever. He was a big fan
of the WFF and his favorite wrestler was Chyna.

John could see from a distance that she was sexy, her long dark hair
whipping about his face in the wind. As John drive closer, he could
see Chyna's faded cutoffs, cut so short that the cheeks of her ass were
peeking out invitingly.

John was a fan of Chyna, he see's she is wearing a pale yellow t-shirt,
the veteran of many washings, faded to the color of tapioca. Chyna's
breasts, unencumbered by a bra, poke proud erect nipples at all who pass
by. Even from a distance John could see the dark circles through the thin
shirt. John was smiling. He stops next to Chyna and rolls down the window.

"Where are you headed?" said John.

"Up the road to this address. Can you take me?" said Chyna handing John
a paper with Triple H's address on it.

"I can always drive a WWF diva to her destination" said John.

John swallows. "Sure. Hop in." Chyna slid into the passenger seat and
he is suddenly conscious of her smell; the smell of sun and sweat on her
buttery skin. John realizes that Chyna has slid closer to him than is
really necessary. He swallows again.

"What's your real name?" said John.

"Joanie." she doesn't ask his name. Out of the corner of his eye he
can see Chyna's breasts jiggling slightly as they ride. Chyna could catch
his sidelong glance and smile slightly. He looked away, embarrassed.

"You don't usually pick people up, do you." It is a statement, not a
question. John looks back at Chyna, more directly this time, and see that
she has turned ever so slightly towards him, and have inched almost
imperceptibly closer. John feels his mouth go slightly dry. He cannot keep
from looking at Chyna's big breasts.

He begins to imagine...No! Things like this just don't happen! There
is always a catch. John feels a light sweat on his upper lip. He rolls
down the window. They ride for a moment in silence.

Chyna crosses her legs and John has moved slightly closer. Chyna's left
hand is on the seat next to her thigh. With another sidelong glance John
can see that the top button on Chyna's cutoffs is undone. Was it like that
before? He realizes that Chyna is looking intently at his face.

If John moves the slightest bit, he am sure his erection will burst
through his pants. So he sits very still and drives carefully and slowly.
Suddenly John realizes he is going barely twenty miles per hour. It seems
as though they are barely moving; the fields to each side of them creep by.
There is a wide spot ahead, next to a broad expanse of tall grass.

"Could we stop for a bit?" Chyna asks.

"If you like," repied John, sure that Chyna could hear his heart

They stop and Chyna is out of the car, skipping through the tall grass
of the field laughing and turning around, Chyna's eyes sparkling. Cautiously
follows her. She comes back to John, breathless, Chyna's sun-sweat smell
nearly overpowering John. Watching her in the grass he is nearly overcome
with desire and he can think of nothing but Chyna.

Chyna stands very close to John, looking up into his face. The impish
smile nearly disappears as Chyna stands very close to John, searching his
face. John strokes her cheek with his palm and gently bend down to kiss her
soft, full lips. Suddenly Chyna's arms are around John, her mouth wide open,
tongue probing. Chyna's body presses insistently against him, her hands are
moving up and down John's back, stroking his ass and the backs of his thighs.
John is certain his body is going to explode.

Suddenly Chyna stops. She draws slightly away from John. Chyna's cheeks
are slightly flushed, and she is breathing heavily through parted lips.
Chyna's firm breasts strain against the flimsy t-shirt, erect nipples
challenging John. Chyna crosses her arms and reach slowly for the bottom
of her shirt and pull sit over her head.

Chyna's breasts, now free in the warm sunshine, invite her #1 fan. He
catches his breath, a half sob, really, as he gazes at Chyna. She comes
to him again and takes his head in both her hands, drawing his mouth first
to one breast, then the other. Greedily John runs his tongue over the
nipples, feeling them harden at the touch. Chyna pulls his head harder to
her, as though she wants him to devour her. John is aware of the salty-sweet
taste of Chyna's sweat. Her breast fills his mouth.

Suddenly, panting, Chyna pushes him away. Her eyes cloudy with desire
and yearning, John's hands move to the top of her cutoffs. Slowly she lowers
the zipper, and drops the shorts to the ground. Keeping her eyes on his,
Chyna steps out of them and stands there before him, naked. Chyna's legs
slightly apart, John moves her right hand over her dark pubis and strokes
the mound. Chyna steps close to her fan once again and puts her hands on his
shoulders, pressing him to her knees in the tall grass.Chyna's dark mound,
very close now, fills his vision and the scent ofher, warm and dark and
musky, clouds his senses.

Chyna pulls his head towards her and he is immersed in her body. Chyna
spreads her legs to straddle his head, forcing her cunt into John's face.
He slowly moves his tongue over Chyna's clit, feeling it protrude and
harden. John points my tongue and run it around the base of Chyna's clit,
pressing hard, and feels her body vibrate in response. Moving down, he
thrusts his tongue into Chyna's cunt, now dripping with her juices. Chyna
is breathing in sobs now, still forcing his mouth against her, constantly
moving her hips to bring John's mouth into tighter contact with her body.

Chyna's juices now cover John's face; the taste of her is overpowering.
Chyna's legs are spread ever wider, and so he puts first two, then three,
then four fingers deep in her wet cunt. She moans in response, an animal
sound from deep in her throat.

Chyna takes John's face in her hands and her lips are all over his face
licking her own love juices from John, kissing him deeply and demandingly.
John wonders how much longer Chyna can continue.

Then Chyna's hands are grasping his shirt, pulling it out of his pants;
Chyna claws at the buttons then, impatient, rips the shirt open, sending
buttons flying. Chyna unfastens John's belt and unsnaps the top button of
his trousers, roughly parting the zipper. His cock jumps out, already moist.
Chyna pushes John's pants and shorts down to his knees and kneels in front
of him. Her face and breasts are flushed with her desire, her eyes smoky.

Chyna puts her hand on his bare chest and pushes him back to the ground.
She pulls off his shoes, then his pants. John lie on his back in the long
grass, his cock throbbing obliquely towards the sky. He, too is naked,
except for his ruined shirt.

Chyna's urgency seems to have subsided now, as she lie next to John,
propped up on one elbow. Chyna places her palm flat on John's chest and he
can see her hand jumping slightly with his heartbeat. Slowly she moves his
hand up to stroke his cheek once, then down his chest, to his belly, then
farther down towards his erect cock. Playfully, Chyna plucks at the pubic
hair, then stroke the insides of John's thighs. His cock strains and throbs.
His heart is pounding, yet he lies on his back passively, waiting to see
what she will do.

John wants to seize her roughly and enter her, possessing Chyna
completely. But he lie there docilely in the grass, waiting to see what
Chyna will do. He wonders if she has any strength left.

Chyna puts her fingers on his eyelids, closing them, and she kisses him
softly on the lips. She moves to his chest, kissing and licking and nibbling
on the way down. Chyna licks and nibble ob John's nipples, first one, then
the other. John's cock stirs impatiently.

He feels her tongue in his navel, then her hand on his erect cock. Chyna
grasps his shaft with surprising firmness. Gently she cups his testicles in
her two hands, as though testing the weight. Chyna strokes them and release
them. She lifts first his right leg, then the left, separating them, and
kneel in between.

With his eyes still closed, he can hear her calm breathing, then feel
her warm breath on his cock, and then John feels Chyna's hot, wet mouth
slide over the head. Chyna does not move for a moment, but John can feel
the slightest caress of her tongue against the tip of his member. John
wonders how long he can stand this teasing without coming.

Slowly Chyna takes more of John into her warm mouth, until he am
completely surrounded by her. John can feel the gentle flick of her tongue
as she pulls back, and the light scrape of her teeth against the shaft.
Slowly and deliberately Chyna continues, first taking just the head of
John's cock into her mouth, sometimes sucking, sometimes teasing with the
tip of her tongue, then slowly sliding the entire length of the shaft into
her mouth and down her throat, her tongue busy all the time.

John is panting now, nearly ready to come, when Chyna stops. A single
drop of fluid emerges at the tip of cock and hangs there. Chyna smiles at
it and flick it off with her tongue. John's world is hazy with pleasure.

Chyna rises to her knees and straddle his chest. As John looks up, her
breasts fill his vision. John is conscious of her wet cunt on his bare
chest. John reaches up and takes Chyna's breasts, one in each hand. He
gently pinches and rolls the nipples, feeling them respond. Chyna squirms
as John squats on his chest and he can feel the slipperiness of her cunt.

John holds the cheeks of her ass with his hands and pull Chyna towards
his mouth, until her warm and dripping cunt is inches from his mouth. John
pulls her body to him until his mouth is sucking greedily at her clit once

Abruptly, she pulls away. John tries to pull Chyna back to him, but she
has turned around, presenting her sweet, firm ass to John. John strokes her
buttocks, and as he spreads her legs to suck on her clit once more, he
feels her hot mouth on his cock. There is an urgency now which has not been
present before, as though their time together was nearly expired. Chyna's
mouth is busy at his cock, sucking, licking, nipping. John sucks and licks
Chyna's clit, putting three and four fingers deeply into her hot cunt. He
hears Chyna gasp in response.

Chyna withdraws from John once more, and turns around, lowering herrself
onto John's cock, burying it to the base. Her knees are drawn up close to
her shoulders and her eyes roll back, showing the whites. Chyna rocks back
and forth, impaled on John's throbbing cock. Jonh grasps at Chyna's breasts,
now slippery with sweat, then spread the cheeks of her ass with both hands.
As he continues thrusting, he gathers some of the juice coming from her wide
cunt and spreads it on the middle finger of his right hand. John thrusts
that slippery finger deep into Chyna's ass.

Chyna is wailing and screaming now, gyrating and bucking wildly, impaled
on John's throbbing member, as she approaches orgasm. John marvels that he
has been able to last so long, but he, too, feels the inevitability of his
own climax.

Locked together, they writhe on the matted grass, slick with sweat and
with the profuse juice from Chyna's cunt. They are breathing as one now,
gasping for breath; Chyna begins to give out short cries, rising in pitch as
her body reaches orgasm. All sensation in her body seems to be focused on
John's cock, throbbing with a life of its own. Then, with an explosion they
can nearly hear, they come.

John feels the hot semen spurt from his cock, filling the cavern of
Chyna's cunt. The mixture of their own juices spills out onto their bellies,
mixing with their sweat and making them slippery.

Chyna pulls away and spins her body around, presenting her dripping cunt
to John. John feels her lips on his cock again, and he pressed his face into
Chyna's cunt, licking the mixed juices. He feels Chyna's mouth and tongue on
his cock, sucking it clean. Soon they lie side by side on their backs, head
to foot, exhausted. Her hand plays idly with his now limp cock, John's
fingers dabble in the juices of Chyna's cunt. Their breathing returns to
normal. Sadly, reality seems to be returning.

"How do I reach you?" John asks, feeling a sense of impending loss.

"I'll call you," Chyna replies, unsuccessfully attempting her earlier
pixie smile. Chyna sits up and reaches for her shirt and cutoffs. They dress
together, silently. The sun is lower in the sky, and there is already the
hint of a chill in the air. John takes Chyna's hand as they walk back to the
car, but her hand is slack and cool in his. John opens her door and she
slides in.

John gets in, start the engine and drives slowly away, willing the day
not to end, somehow knowing that he will never be the same. Chyna sat
silently against the passenger door, staring through the windshield.

"You never told me where you wanted to go," I offer, my voice sounding
hollow in my ears.

"Did you read the piece of paper," Chyna replies. "I'll tell you where
to let me off."

They come into town and Chyna gestures absently at the airport.

"This will be fine." John starts to protest, but Chyna put her fingers
to his lips, giving him the smile he first saw in her, so long ago. "I'll
see you again. I promise."

And she is gone. John curses himself for not getting her last name,
her telephone number, her address. He didn't know anything about Chyna,
just the secret places of her body where he was able to bring her pleasure.
Sometimes he drives back to that field where they made love and imagine
that she is back here with him.

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