Page 42 of Forbidden Billionaires: Vol. 10

Sunday

Bryce

I kept my arms on my hips and stared out into the crowd as Alina went down the line, slowly ripping our morph suits open to show off our abs.

After watching Alina twerk on that platform, my boner had grown even more.

Thick jeans wouldn't have even been able to hide it, much less this paper-thin spandex.

Not that I was checking out their junk, but I had noticed that most of the dancers were enjoying Alina's performance as much as I was.

I heard a rip next to me and then felt Alina's hands slide around my waist onto my stomach. She traced the contours of my abs with her fingers and even let them wander to my pecs for a second before pulling the tab. Did she do that with all the dancers?

The rush of air against my skin was extremely refreshing after dancing around in an outfit with so little ventilation.

I would have thought I would only feel the air against my abs where the fabric had been pulled away, but I felt the breeze all down the front of me.

Not only that, but the uncomfortably tight fabric now felt much looser. It almost felt like...

Oh shit.

I looked down and confirmed my suspicions. Rather than a small part of the fabric tearing away to reveal my abs like it was designed to do, the entire front of my suit had broken at the seams, leaving my erection waving freely in the air. In front of thousands of people.

Fuck! Did my boner combined with Alina pulling the tab really make my suit explode? Or did someone tamper with my suit like I had done to poor Yao Kai? Why the fuck did I let Tim convince me to go commando under the morph suit?

My first instinct was to put my hands over my junk, but I quickly decided that wasn't an option.

This was a choreographed dance, but the audience didn't know what we had been choreographed to do.

As a result, all we had to do was make it look like everything was planned.

And that meant not covering my junk. As far as the audience and judges knew, male nudity was just part of the routine.

I glanced to the side to see if I was the only one suffering a wardrobe malfunction.

Part of me assumed that my dick was the biggest and therefore most likely to rip my suit open, but it turned out that wasn't the case.

Well, actually, my penis was definitely the biggest, but that didn't mean that my suit was the only one to rip open.

We were all standing in a row, erections pointed right at the judges.

I tried to get a read on how the judges felt about our collective wardrobe malfunction.

The Asian lady had her lips tightly pursed, clearly not impressed.

But the French lady looked amused, and I was sure the three male judges were enjoying Alina's dance.

If we were lucky, eight guys whipping their dicks out would boost the creativity portion of Alina's score.

After unleashing the penis of the eighth and final backup dancer, Alina spun around and lay on the stage.

Then she got on all fours and began crawling in front of us.

If I didn't already have a boner, watching her arch her back and crawl across the stage definitely would have given me one.

It was impossible not to picture myself walking up behind her, ripping her thong off, and fucking her right there on stage. God, her ass was a thing of beauty.

The only problem was that every other guy in the world watching her performance, including the seven men standing next to me, were likely thinking the same thing.

Whatever. They could look and want all they wanted, but at the end of the day, she was mine.

Hell, in less than five minutes she'll be mine.

As Alina crawled in front of us, the dancer to my left began tearing the remnants of his suit off, leaving only his head covered.

It was probably a good idea, because if we didn't take them off, the torn suits could have been a tripping hazard during the end of the routine.

One of the other dancers followed his lead, and then another. Soon we were all tearing our suits off.