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   Chapter 38 No.38

Sheryl's Last Stand By Kerrie Noor Characters: 5346

Updated: 2018-02-07 12:01

Steven choked on the last of his chocolates as some of the women behind sighed.

Sheryl stood up and stared into the entrance. More smoke filled the doorway accompanied by a couple of explosions.

'The audience is electric with excitement!' yelled Mad Brady.

As the smoke cleared away, the blonde, or 'Miss Whiplash', as Steven liked to call her, stood in the entrance with her whip held across her thigh.

The American flag appeared from the ceiling, slowly unfolding along with a few trapeze artists, who skimmed down from the ceiling twirling like butterflies on a wire.

Americans, thought Steven, as Johnston's tune belted out over the cheer of the crowds

'And here she is now, Big Sal, ' said Mad Brady. 'Do you know why they call her 'Big Sal'?'

Frank sighed.

'It's because she a big-hearted gal, ' laughed Mad Brady.

The crowd roared again as Big Sal walked down the aisle welding her whip in the air. Johnston's entrance music continued as his dark silhouette appeared from the smoke. Screams and yells filled the stadium, as knickers began to fall on the entranceway like a multi-coloured carpet for Johnston to walk on. Sheryl's heart pounded almost up to her throat. He tuned his back to the audience and flexed his arms, his back expanded as drops of water dribbled down his smooth skin. He shook his hair, then turned to face his audience and flexed his arms again.

Johnston stopped at Sheryl's corner, and she stared at his chest; she was close enough to see the tattoo around his nipple. She looked at his thick thighs and the chocolate-coloured skin sculptured

to watch the football.


Johnston picked Steel up and then after a dramatic pause, threw Steel head first onto the metallic steps going up onto the ring. A hollow crunch echoed through the hall, Steven winced, Beatrice cheered, and Sheryl sighed.

Nefertiti wasn't even watching, she had taken up her predancing meditation pose and was trying to erase the thoughts of rich coffee, chilled chardonnay and chocolates, all served by Rodger in his bugle's hat. Rodger had stirred a passion in her soul she never knew existed. Why could he not just paint flowers like everyone else?

'Oooo, that's gotta hurt, ' said Frank over the blast of trumpets and drums.

A wrestler dressed as a gladiator appeared on the scene with a woman beside him, who wore some sort of Stone Age cave woman outfit. With arms like dumb bells, and her modesty protected by a few small bits of fur, she ran alongside the gladiator.

'Here we go again, ' said Frank.

Steven watched on in amazement, as the Rachel Welsh look-alike managed to run with her modesty just covered.

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