Potent Performance

It’s amazing what a little internet advertising can do. The entire 3000 seat theater was packed, and every single attendee all came to watch a girl get knocked up live. A tenth of them had come because they thought they might have a chance to be the one to do it.

The applause when I walked onto the stage and dropped my robe was intoxicating. I was so turned on, so ready. Next to the big bed and comfy recliner there was a box with the ticket stubs of the three-hundred or so men in the audience who had submitted the forms and medical exam results to be in the running. When I fished one out and read the row and seat number my voice didn’t even quaver, but pussy twitched in anticipation. 

The guy I called rose from his seat, a little hesitantly, but gained confidence with the round of applause. I loved that he was a little shy taking off his clothes on the stage, in front of thousands of eyes, but I was there. I had done it before him. I had done it for him – and for the moment, in front of all these people I was for him alone. I encouraged him by leaning back against the bed and showing him what he was there for.

He was half hard when he got to the bed, and I got him the rest of the way with my mouth before guiding him to lay back straddling him. I was so wet, so ready for the cum he had in him. Once my pussy had his attention, once he could focus on my body, and the hot grip I had on him inside, his stage fright slowly but surely evaporated. When I came, nice and loud and true for him, he groaned and unloaded into me under the warm stage lights. The applause afterwards began tentatively, but became more enthusiastic when I kissed him and told him to take a bow. 

His spunk was just starting to drip down my thighs as I stepped over to pick the next seat number. I didn’t hide it – it was like another part of a costume. Part of the play with a new actor, a knew about to enter the scene, if for the same role.

I made it to eleven men and five orgasms over about a hundred minutes before taking my own sweaty, messy final bow. Between my share of the ticket sales and live-stream proceeds, I cleared a nice little nest egg and trust fund for the child I conceived that night. 

Categories: Cassie Andra, Erotic Fiction, The Wrong AlphabetTags: , , ,

Cassie Andra

Old enough to know better and not care. Vanilla on the outside. Vanilla through and through, except for the mind. You don't want to go there, but I'll give you peeks. Be warned: erotica themes include standard fun, but also the taboo-est of the taboo. Coming of age, infidelity, family relations, dubious and non-consent. Every throbbing inch of it is, however, fantasy, and should be treated as such.

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