The Dam’s stage glows under red and yellow haze. Spotlights hot on my skin. Laurie’s just exploded, cumming like a wild animal, alone in her frenzy. Her vibes still pulse inside me, that click, her fire. She trembles. I love this virtual caress, the hidden pride. I made her cum. Fuck, it swells me.
She rests on my laurels now. Roger’s stirring, not letting the crowd drop. He toys my ass, two-handed symphony. Plays with them too, I hear curses. Fucks! Fucks! Acoustics fuzzy. I dig this role-play thrill.
The Rush to Surrender
Roger squats. Licks my slit full length. Tongue drips desire, claims me. He climbs, the bastard. I know his target. My tight hole’s ready.
Roger’s an anulingus pro, new to the troupe but skilled. Turns me on more. He grips cheeks hard, thumbs inward, parts my lazy flesh slow. Nudges center. Void appears. Tongue wets, fingers probe gentle. Saliva mixes juices. Elegant, respectful. Gentleman Rodge.
Crowd fidgets. He teases nerves, marinates them. They pace. But he flips me inside out.
Fuck! Fuck! Clearer now. From back, heart-deep. Roger can ass-fuck me. All men here cheer him. Wishing they were in.
My rosebud prepped. He readies his sausage, taps cheeks for stiffness. Always worry at the sight, but Roger never hurts. Oiled machine, master craftsman.
Tech of ass, unpaired specialist. Feels his thick cock pierce slow. Hot. Deep. So fucking good.
He impales. Room erupts. Cheers, multilingual slut calls. No translator needed. Gestures fly—middle fingers, thumbs up furious, wet pinkies shy. Just men.
Laurie snaps back, stage note: pivot to 69. She sticks script perfect. But Roger’s pounding, hard to settle under me. Balance tricky on wobbly low table.
No bad tools, just bad workers. Try it yourselves.
She locks in, works rhythm. Tough for me to eat her—full hilt anal shakes me wild. No pain, just jiggle. Grip table edge, her legs. Crowd watches my lost eyes. Fuels everyone.
Roger’s fave scene. Loves my tight ring stretch, sphincter pulse to his beat. Thrusts own tempo. Balls slap. Shared fuck—him, them, over her sucking his sack.
Deep in the Forbidden Act
Anal submits me, tubes me before crowd. Exhib vice my real cum—brain blast, juicy. Laurie licks pussy and shaft, takes double. Good for her, perfect me. Thought orgasm, real touch. Nirvana close.
Roger times peak. Crucial beat. Seconds only. Breath held. No retakes, live, no cuts. Balls full. Climax rushes.
Pulls sudden, jerks fierce over ass. Laurie shifts, braces me.
He erupts. Soars. Yells garbled. Crowd rises.
Hot cum floods back, reins. ‘Roger clear, no tower.’
Before them, he coats me. Laurie smears, licks fingers greedy. Keeps it. Coquine. I crave too. My turn soon.
Applauds roar, frat-boy chaos. Pots simmer, ready burst. Piece wrecked ’em.
Fatigue hits. Dizzy. Sticky glaze like cum. Room spins away. Stranger nears.
Where’s Laurie? Roger rocked. Night fades. Dam close. Quidam snarls French: ‘Take it, slut! Made me hard all night—pay up!’
Hunt him, gone from stage. Worn out. Foggy. Cock looms huge above. Rodge? Laurie, love… They loved. Hurt head wrong spot. Control tower? Sick of chair, fake leather. Lost walkers. Want bike.
Echoes… then nothing.