Chris was only 26 but had already lived quite the life. He had been a big pro wrestling fan his entire life and when he graduated high school, told his parents he wanted to train to become one of his own. While they supported him in any decision he wanted to make, they told him he needed to go to college first. Knowing that waiting a full four years before starting his training would put him behind the 8-ball, he pulled double duty and trained at a wrestling school in Philadelphia while attending Eastern State University. While the extra work meant he could barely keep his grades above a C-average, he still managed to graduate and give his parents the diploma they wanted him to earn. Two weeks after graduation, his wrestling trainer threw him in a van and Chris got to experience life on the road as a traveling wrestler. He was in love with the lifestyle instantly.
While the stereotype of a wrestler is someone who 6'5 and weighed 300 pounds of carved marble, Chris fit the new mode of wrestler. He only stood at 6'1 and weighed only 180 pounds. What he lacked in size he had in speed and agility. As pro wrestling became more and more of his world, he started to get more chiseled but never became anything close to a hulk of a man. His body, agility, and youthful look made him the perfect good guy, or babyface. He was traveling up and down the east coast, making a name for himself, and was doing it all on his own.
Right before he graduated college, he got engaged to his college girlfriend. He thought it made sense that since his vocational life was going to be wild, his personal life should be stable. They quickly got married and bought a small town house in a suburb of Philadelphia. It was a whirlwind marriage, but as Chris' wrestling career took off, the marriage started to show signs of trouble. He was on the road more and more and his young wife hated to be alone. She hated it so much that she started to sleep with anyone she could find on Tinder inside of their house in the bed she shared with him. When he found out, divorce was the only option.
The divorce went relatively smoothly. As angry as Chris was, he was always a laid back guy and knew that since his wife was in the wrong, he had nothing to be ashamed of. She was at least self-aware enough that she was the one that did the damage so the divorce proceedings were rather painless. She kept the most of the furniture and the personal things she became attached to and would send Christ about $500 a month to cover the mortgage. He got to keep the house. While it was now mostly empty, he was going out on the road so much that he only really needed a bed, a TV, and washing machine. The basement of the house was always his Man Cave, equipped with its own bar, which he got to keep himself since he and his father built it with their own hands.
He never really took much stock into finding a new relationship. He had rushed into one earlier and had no inclination to rush into another one. Whenever he was home, he was content with watching football with his friends, having a few beers, and the occasional casual sex encounter.
There were four other houses in his row. He was friendly with his neighbors but did not have much of a relationship with any of them. He shared a driveway and a walkway with the neighbors to his left. They were a kind couple in their mid-fifties who kept to themselves and never bothered whenever he had friends over. If it ever snowed he would shovel out their driveway, take their trashcans in from the curb, that sort of thing. One day while coming back from the gym, he noticed a lime green Volkswagon Beetle in their drive-way. It definitely wasn't driven by either of the neighbors, but figured there was just a relative visiting them. However he noticed that the Beetle was there more and more. He finally encountered then owner when it was pulling into the driveway as Chris was coming back in from a run around the neighborhood.
The driver came out and Chris was immediately taken aback. She stood no more than five feet tall with long blonde hair. She was built like a brick house. While he did not know her exact measurements by looking at her fully clothed, she was 42-30-46 with a pair of 38DD breasts. He was simply going to nod and smile and go about his day, but remembered how his mentor in the wrestling business always told him to be more spontaneous and personable when it came to talking.
"Oh hey. I was wondering who drove that car."
The woman smiled and removed her sunglasses to lock onto eye contact. "Haha yeah. You must be Chad."
"Chris but close."
"Chris! I'm so sorry!"
"It's ok. You at least were in the ballpark. I don't even know anything about your name to guess it wrong."
"Haha true, I'm Sam."
"Nice to meet you Sam. I'd shake your hand but they get sweaty when I run."
"Oh I hear that. I'm the same way whenever I work out."
"So are you renting a room or..."
"Oh, kind of. They're my Aunt and Uncle. They're letting me stay here for a little bit since I just got a job out here."
"Oh what do you do?"
"I'm a Nurse. Just got out of school a month or two or go and got a job at High View Hospital and they live a lot closer then my old place in the city."
"Oh very cool. Well I don't want to keep you from..."
"Jake and Eve. You didn't know their name did you?"
"Well they apparently thought my name was Chad so consider us even."
Sam laughed and they both said their goodbyes and went inside. After he kicked his shoes off, Chris thought to himself the new possibilities that arose now that a hot young bombshell would be living next door for the foreseeable future. Maybe it would give him some extra motivation to stay home a little more. Sam was stuck in his mind was he got undressed and hopped in the shower. As he thought about her round tits and sultry eyes, he noticed his dick was getting hard. Knowing that having this frustration was not going to make his day easier, he quickly jerked off to the fantasy of Sam. He finished up, ran cold water for a few seconds, and dried off.
Chris and Sam never really encountered much over the next two weeks. One Sunday, Chris was recovering from the local wrestling show he took part in the night before and getting some friends and beers together to watch that week's Eagles game against the Packers. He ran to his car grab something when he noticed Sam heading to her car, donned in a Packers jersey.
"Oh dear god you're a Packers fan."
Sam flexed and gave Chris a smirk. "Damn right."
"Well nobody's perfect. Where are you off to?"
"I don't know yet. There's that sports bar I may check out. None of my friends in the City feel like coming down and I work later tonight so I don't feel like going up. Probably just bar hop until I find somewhere I can watch in relative peace."
"Well while I may root for a superior team, my basement is usually football central. I've got a handful of friends already on their way over. Why don't you just watch it here?"
"I won't intrude?"
"You may catch some shit before liking Green Bay but you seem like you can handle it."
"Can I dish shit back?"
"I'd be offended if you didn't."
"Well then, change of plans. Count me in."
"Well come on in. I'll give you a quick tour then you can grab a beer. Don't cost nothing."
Chris opened his doors to Sam and gave her a quick tour of the house. There was not much furniture still in the house, but it was still impressive for one person.
"So you live here by yourself?"
"Yeah. Had a wife living with me but she turned out to be a cheating whore so now it's just me."
"Oh...sorry."
"Eh don't be. Not like she's dead or anything. Well dead to me."
"Well her loss. So what do you do?"
"I'm a pro wrestler."
"Haha, no seriously."
"No really. I'm a pro wrestler. Google 'Chris Tiger'."
Sam pulled out her phone, searched Google Images, and then was taken aback with what she saw. "Oh holy shit that is you."
"Yup, been doing it for a few years now. That's why I'm usually not here on the weekend. I worked last night which is why I may be walking around like an old man."
Sam was seemingly half listening as she kept scrolling images. "Sorry I'm trying to find a picture of you in a Speedo or something."
"Good luck. I wear long tights. The Speedo is under the tights. Keep searching as we walk downstairs."
Chris showed her downstairs, which had his stocked bar, couches, and a projector instead of the usual television. His two friends came over to join them for the game. Lots of barbs were thrown Sam's way but she gave them right back. By the time the game was over, Sam taunted the boys about the big Packers win and boos rained down from the room.
"Well as fun as this has been, I need to save lives at the hospital so I need to go."
"Oh the odds of their being a big disaster are slim. Have another beer" quipped Chris.
"Tempting but I'll take a rain check."
"Well I'll walk you to the door. I'd walk you home but you can figure that shit out on your own."
