Page 43 of Forbidden Billionaires: Vol. 10

Sunday

Alina

Tim really did a wonderful job of choreographing this dance to make it as awkward as possible for someone wearing a thong.

Sure, any dance would be uncomfortable to perform in a thong, but this one especially so.

Every other move I had done since losing my dress required me to bend over or arch my back.

I looked at the jumbotron where they were showing video from the HD cameras positioned around the stage.

Unsurprisingly, the current feed was a close-up of my ass.

Seeing the video made me feel even more self conscious than I already did, so I turned my head to look at my backup dancers instead. Not only would it give me an opportunity to be sexy and whip my hair around, but I also hadn't gotten to enjoy the view of my backup dancers' abs.

Whoa! What the fuck is happening? I expected to see a line of beautiful six packs, but instead I found myself staring at eight throbbing erections, one of which was the most enormous penis I had ever seen.

Oh my God, that must be Python! For once in his life, Tim had not been exaggerating.

Python's erection was actually terrifying.

It took a second for me to process how it had happened, but it appeared that the seams on the morph suits had all busted when I pulled the tabs that should have only torn away a small portion of the fabric.

The men all began tearing the fabric away from the neck down, leaving only their faces covered.

As the men finished stripping, more cheers erupted from the audience, mainly from women.

And I could see why. Just as an artist spends countless hours perfecting a painting or sculpture, so too did these men.

Only their works of art were their bodies, with every muscle sculpted to perfection.

It's natural for humans to identify each other by their facial features, partially because usually our faces are exposed and our bodies are covered, but here on this stage, the script was flipped.

Their faces were still covered by the American flag morph suits, but their bodies were exposed in all their glory.

And each of their bodies told a story. Some had woven a tale of years in the gym, adding bulk to specific muscles.

Others had spent more time running, whittling away body fat to leave every fiber and ripple of their muscles just visible below the skin.

Despite the differences, their stories all had the same ending: a throbbing erection.

For me. God, I'm so fucking horny. Focus.

I wondered which one was Bryce. When I had fooled around with him in the dorm, he had a happy trail that I could probably identify.

But Tim had made him get waxed at the spa.

And he must have had all the other backup dancers get waxed too, because they were all completely hairless.

I focused on the abs next. All of them were shredded, and at least half, maybe more, looked like they could belong to a runner.

And all of them had impressive erections.

Wait, did I really make all of these men that excited?

The thought was exhilarating. My ass had been the focal point of the dance thus far, and I had been expecting everyone to find it repulsive.

But instead, the opposite had happened. Just looking at my body had given all eight of my dancers full erections.

Then a crazy thought came to me: From my sample size of eight men, I had given all of them erections.

Did I have the same effect on the millions of men watching around the world?

Oh my God. Why the hell am I thinking about this?

Why the hell am I checking all of them out?

At the end of my crawl, I was supposed to climb up the final man in line like a sexy cat.

I would have been fine with doing it with Bryce, but instead, it was Python.

Fuck my life. I reached up and grabbed his naked thighs, feeling his smooth skin and tight muscles.

As I continued my climb, I had to dodge to the side to avoid his massive black cock slapping me in the face.

But there was no avoiding it bouncing against my cleavage and poking into my stomach.

I tried to ignore the excitement caused by coming into contact with his hard cock, but despite my best efforts, my heartbeat accelerated and my body tingled with desire.

"Sorry," I muttered. Awkward.

"I don't mind at all," said Python. "In fact, I like slapping you with my cock."

Did he really just say that? I spun away from him, and as I did, I caught a glimpse of Gabriela standing backstage, laughing at me.

That fucking bitch! She sabotaged my dancers' costumes to try to throw me off!

I started my weird samba/twerk combo dance again while my backup dancers fanned out to form a circle around me.

I couldn't believe it, but the dance was almost over.

It really had gone by in a flash. Probably not for the guys though.

I could only imagine how mortified they were that they had accidentally gotten nude in front of thousands of people.

The only problem was that I didn't know if I had done enough to win gold. I wasn't the best dancer and the wardrobe malfunction may have hurt us more than helped us.

The next move involved me going to the front of the stage, which gave me an opportunity to look at the judges' faces.

They all looked moderately entertained, but their expressions weren't enough to make me feel super confident that I was going to win gold.

Fuck. I had to do something. Time was running out.

Should I take my bra off like Gabriela did?

I pushed the thought out of my mind as quickly as it had come.

But when I turned around and saw all my backup dancers standing there with their cocks out, I knew I had to do it.

They hadn't even flinched when it had happened to them.

If they were willing to do that, I could certainly take my bra off. Thank God for these pasties.

I unhooked my bra and covered myself with one arm as I turned back towards the crowd. The crowd cheered as I threw my bra off the stage. And they cheered even louder when I moved my other hand off my breasts.

I kept my arms up for a few seconds before two of the guys came around and held an American flag in front of me.

From practice, I knew that Bryce would be to my left. I couldn't help myself from glancing down to see which erection belonged to him. I was not at all disappointed.

"Did you guys mean to whip your cocks out?" I said to Bryce. I felt like I had to yell to talk to him over the cheer of the crowd.

"No. I think someone sabotaged them," he replied.

"Gabriela. That bitch!" I looked over to the side stage.

Gabriela was standing there in her thong and pasties with a stupid smirk on her face.

First she stole my boyfriend to mess with my head before our volleyball match, and now she sabotaged the costumes for my dance. I can't let this bitch win gold.

The music cut out and the crowd cheered. But they weren't cheering nearly as loud as they did for Gabriela. It was obvious that she was going to get the gold and Brazil was going to win the medal count, and it was all my fault.

"Think I did enough to win?" I asked.

"You did incredible, Alina. But honestly, no. I mean, Gabriela made out with someone at the end of her dance and only got a 15 for sensuality."

"Shit, we should have put a kiss in."

"There's still time."

"Okay, take your mask off."

"That's too complicated. And anyway, you're going to have to outdo Gabriela in order to beat her." He glanced down at his erection.

What?! "You want me to give you a blowjob in front of thousands of people?" Shit, maybe he wasn't joking about not waiting to get off stage before fucking me.

He shrugged. "They'll just be able to see the shadow behind the flag. If anyone asks, you can just say you didn't actually do it."

"No way, Bryce."

"Alright. I guess silver is pretty good."

I looked over at Gabriela again. Chris was standing next to her and she was saying something to him. My blood started to boil. I couldn't imagine Gabriela up on that gold podium looking down at me with my silver. Again.

My eyes returned to Bryce's cock. If I had been thinking clearly, I would have told him he was crazy. But I wasn't thinking clearly. My desire to beat Gabriela combined with my starved sex drive overpowered my rationale with surprising ease. Fuck it. "This better get me the gold."

Before I could change my mind, I dropped to my knees and grabbed his erection.

It was huge. I could have easily fit both hands on it.

But this wasn't a handjob. This was a fucking blowjob.

I pumped my hand down his length as I swirled my tongue around the tip.

I looked up to see the look on his face as I took him into my mouth, but all I could see was his creepy American flag morph suit covering his face.

Cheers and some gasps erupted from the crowd when they saw the silhouette of what I was doing behind the flag. My dance track started pumping through the speakers again.

God, this was so hot. After all this waiting, I was finally able to have him.

With the cheers as encouragement, I brought my hand up to meet my mouth and then slid my hand and my lips down his shaft in unison.

Bryce moaned loudly. I pulled back and started bobbing up and down to the beat of the music.

His fingers intertwined in my hair as he began guiding me. "That feels so fucking good, baby."

I tightened my lips even more. I loved making him feel good.

And as soon as we were off the stage, we'd be doing more than this.

I was already wet. Thinking about having him just made it even worse.

I didn't care that people could see our silhouette behind the flag.

I didn't care about winning gold. In this moment, I just cared about him.

This felt right. Our chemistry was so scorching.

I wanted him to rip all my lingerie off and have me right in the middle of the stage.

I had completely lost my mind. It was just me and Bryce. And God, it felt so right.

"By the way, why do you keep calling me Bryce?" he asked.

I pulled his cock out of my mouth and looked up at him. "What!?" It felt like my heart had stopped.

"Yeah, I'm not Bryce. That's Bryce." He pointed to the guy holding the other side of the flag.

"Shit, are you serious?" It felt like my whole world was collapsing.

This perfect moment was actually the worst moment of my life.

I tried to think back to practice. I could have sworn Tim was always standing on this side of the flag, which meant Bryce should have been there in his place.

Maybe I switched the sides in my head though. Fuck.

He nodded.

I turned to the actual Bryce. "Oh my God, Bryce." I put my hand over my mouth. "I'm so sorry. I thought that was you."

"It's my fault," he said, shaking his head. "I went to the wrong side of the flag."

"Why didn't you stop me?!" I swallowed hard. What the hell had I just done?

"I just wanted you to win gold, Alina. I know how much it means to you."

With me still on my knees, his erection was only a few inches away from my face. I didn't know if he would ever forgive me for blowing some other guy, but the only thing my irrational, oversexed mind could come up with to make it up to him was to blow him too.

I grabbed his cock and went right to sucking, trying to do better than I had done on the fake Bryce to show him how sorry I was.

"Fuck, Alina, I forgive you. Just don't stop. Don't stop, baby." Now Bryce's fingers intertwined in my hair.

The crowd cheered even louder than before. And they cheered even louder when the guys dropped the flag.

Holy. Shit. Having everyone see the silhouette of me giving head behind the American flag was one thing.

I could have said it was an illusion, that I didn't really do it.

But now, with the flag on the ground, everyone could clearly see that it was no illusion.

I was on my knees, on stage, in front of thousands of live spectators and millions more on TV, with my lips wrapped around Bryce's penis.