Fandom: All Elite Wrestling
Rating: 18+
Pairing: Cash Wheeler/CM Punk/Dax Harwood
Additional Tags: Rimming, Armpit Licking, Sweat/Scent Kink, Anal Sex
Summary: It's good to be back where he belongs. A sweat rag for his favorite boys in AEW.
Original Date Of Publication: July 14, 2023
Notes: An AEW Kinkmeme prompt fill.
This is the fucking life. The money, the TV time, the fame, that's all well and good, but the real perk of being CM Punk is the undivided attention of the Top Guys. One of them, currently topping him. Honestly, he's lost track of which one it is. They've been taking turns fucking him, keeping him sandwiched between their sweaty, heated bodies.
Of course, he'd been waiting for them in their locker room after their match. And of course he'd already stripped and rolled up a towel to kneel on, so when Dax and Cash walked in to see their prize, they wouldn't have to work for a damn thing. Dax slipped an arm around Cash's waist and cinched them hip-to-hip. They'd loomed and crowded over Punk's upturned face, radiating steamy, sour air. And Punk's nostrils flared, taking it in, and his eyes dilated before fluttering closed as Cash grabbed him by the ear and mashed his face into his groin.
Now, Punk's nose is nestled in Dax's furry armpit, practically drowning in his musk. Lapping up every bead of sweat that forms on his skin. And he moans and scrapes his teeth against his pec when Dax (it must be him, with how his thick belly tenses up and he groans low and deep in Punk's ear) finally comes, root-deep in his ass.
Punk expects Cash to take his place now, fill him up with another load, but he's guided to his knees again and made to lean back against a bench. Cash takes his cock in one hand and Punk's hair in the other and pulls his head back, and-- oh. Punk's tongue lolls out of his mouth as Cash plants one foot up on the edge of the bench and straddles his face. His heavy, damp balls rest across Punk's eyes, his nose nuzzling his taint just behind them and greedily huffing the raw, dirty reek of stale sweat and ass. And then Cash tilts his hips just right, and he can taste it. Punk moans against Cash's asshole as he shoves three fingers back inside his own, fucking himself with Dax's cum before it can ooze out.
Cash's sac bounces and slaps his face while he jerks off. He keeps on rolling his hips all the while and grinding on Punk's tongue. He points and curls the tip to meet him each time, teasing and pulling at his rim. Beautifully, they come at the same time. Blind, unplanned, and perfect. And Cash drags his ass and balls across Punk's outstretched tongue one more time as he steps off the bench to take in the sight of him. Face red and glistening wet. Chest heaving. Looking cock-drunk, with half his hand still buried between his legs and just lazily milking more pearly fluid from his limp, spent cock. He looks up at his Top Guys with a lopsided grin.
"Same time next week? I'll get Tony to book you something."
And, well. They can never say no to that.
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