Sex on the Main Stage

The crowd’s attitude quickly shifts, their boos fade into cheers. Still a little distracting, but not as disheartening. Your tongue in her mouth, your hands in her hair, your sex on her thigh. She unzips your dress, the straps on your arm falling away. The locking of lips is broken as she pulls your dress over your head.

You catch a glimpse of the huge displays. The camera is on you watching, Paris’ arms are around you. Then your bra falls away, giving a full topless shot to the camera and the audience watching in the stadium and from home. “What a pair on that broad,” Faeton laughs, “and adorned in metal. Paris, why don’t you have a taste for all of us who can’t?”

Her mouth is on you in a flash. Her tongue flicks over your pierced nipple. You look down making eye contact as she stares up at you, her cheeks pulled in as she sucks upon your chest. A loud pop marks her changing from one to the other. You grab a handful of hair, pulling her head back. She stares up at you, you pull her in for another kiss.

“Now this is a show. Amber honey, why don’t you taste your prize?” Faeton continues to direct. Part of you wants to act against his wishes, but then another part really does want to devour Paris. Your mouth presses into her neck, kiss after kiss until you arrive at her nipples, taking your turn to return the favor. Your tongue runs circles around her flesh, as you slip your hand down the front of her pants.

She gasps and moans as you pleasure her with your fingers. You feel her hands tighten around handfuls of your hair, she lightly pushes you lower. You can’t help but wonder if she’ll taste the same as Daisy. You return to kissing her as your fingers fumble with her pants, finally pulling them off of her to the crowd’s cheers.

You lower yourself between Paris’ legs, your tongue tasting her wetness. “Amber honey, mind the cameras,” Faeton chastises from the podium. You glance at the screens and notice your hair is blocking the view. Your jaw clenches at the interruption but before you can act Paris has your hair gathered in her hands. She guides you back to her pussy, urging you to continue. Shutting out Faeton, you are happy to oblige.

You stare up, taking in the sight of her body, but also catching a glimpse of the big screens. They showcase Paris’ face contorting in ecstasy, switching to shots of your face buried in her sex. You smile watching the giant image of you, your fingers coming into frame as you plunge them into your new friend.

She writhes under your attention. Her breathing is heavy, each rise and fall of her chest brings her closer to her finish. You can see her face on the screens, eyes clenched closed, her mouth agape with the moans that fuel you to continue, plenty of evident signs to indicate she’s close.

“She seems to like that. What I’d give to feel your tongue on my cock,” Faeton says.

Paris’ grip on your hair tightens, her fluids gush against your chin, her pussy clamps around your fingers. Her moans blend with the cheers of the crowd, the air is filled with joy and pleasure. “Wow,” Paris sighs, pulling you back up her body. You climb over her, kissing her again. “No wonder everyone is crazy over you.”

“It’s your turn now,” you smile. Continuing your climb, your groin runs along her torso, until you come to rest on her face. Her raven hair is splayed across the ground, her eyes look up at you, the rest of her face covered by your body. The screens give the world a close up view of the whole thing. You can feel her tongue exploring your folds.

You think back to Daisy in the tent, she was plenty skilled in bed for sure. But Paris is a trainer, which comes with a constant supply of sexual experience. And it shows in the way her tongue delves deep within you. She has one arm pinned between your thigh and her head, she uses it to reach up your body and play with piercings. The other is behind you, but you feel it cupping your ass before she sinks her digits into your sex.

You close your eyes, losing yourself in the swell of the crowd, in the pleasure Paris gives you. You grind against her face. Her fingers pinch and tease at your nipples. You grab her wrist pulling her hand to your mouth, you suck on her fingers. Your tongue runs between her digits, your lips are wrapped around her knuckles.

You moan out around the fingers in your mouth, your orgasm quickly approaching. Faeton continues to make his jokes and the crowd cheers each second as you ride her face.

“Uh oh, looks like are show is just about over folks,” Faeton calls out.

He’s right, the show’s almost over and so are you. Your body quakes in pleasure, your fingers are tangled in her raven hair. Her fingers are hooked in your cheek as you cry out in pleasure. You tremble atop Daisy’s sister, riding out your orgasm on her face. You slide off of her, your breathing heavy.

“As much as I’d love to watch a second round, the show must go on. Why don’t you lovely ladies clear the field and let the next pair come on out? If you want, the both of you are welcome to wait for me in my room,” Faeton announces over the sound system.

You and Paris throw on some clothes and walk off the stage hand in hand. You want to get back to your seats as quick as you can, John and Humphrey are the next battle.