Hey Friends! Thanks to everyone who participated in the poll last month. The results come to you in the form of a pretty over the top story. Just in case it needs to be said, there are no real spoilers here and anything that happens here between characters won't affect any of the "normal" stories. Hope you enjoy.
------------------------------------------------------
Ashley stirred, her mind foggy as she looked around the dark room. The last thing she remembered was going to bed with Chris, but as she blinked away the sleep in her eyes, she didn't recognize her surroundings. She groaned and propped herself up, her senses assaulted by the dim lighting, the sound of clapping, and the cheers. Why were there people cheering when she was trying to sleep? It wasn’t until she shifted slightly, the fabric of her nightgown brushing against her skin, that she realized she was in a theater. But, why?
Her heart rate started to increase as her eyes began to adjust. She was sitting in a plush, leather chair at the edge of the stage. Why would she be on stage and not in the crowd? The gown she was wearing clung to her skin, the blue lace was practically see-through, far too revealing for a place with so many people. She could feel her nipples hardening beneath the silk fabric as she considered what the people in the crowd must be able to see. A dream perhaps? That would make sense. That would at least explain why she was here dressed like she was. Maybe it would also explain the heat she already felt stirring low in her belly. A wet dream... she hadn't had one of those since high school. Was that really what was going on here?
Suddenly, a spotlight was on her. Its light too bright, causing her to shield her eyes. The room erupted in applause, thunderous claps that sounded deafening.
As the spotlight began to dim, she got a better look at the crowd. It was overwhelming. She turned her head and caught sight of the lower bowl. There were at least 250 people, their eyes all trained on the stage. Her stomach tightened, her face flushed. The balcony above was packed with even more, over 700 people, a sea of faces.
This was… too much.
A microphone crackled overhead, the deep voice of the announcer echoing through the speakers.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the first annual Mad Story Awards. Tonight, we honor those who’ve made the most memorable marks on this exclusive community. Let’s get started, shall we?”
Ashley’s heart thudded painfully in her chest. The spotlight on her was hot, making her skin prickle as she fidgeted, unsure whether to sit or stand, frozen in a moment between two worlds.
"Awards?" she mumbled to herself. What could she possibly be getting an award for? None of this made sense. She placed her hands on the arms of her chair, ready to bolt from the stage when she saw Clayton.
His gaze caught her almost immediately. He walked over to her casually, one hand in the pocket of his suit, the other adjusting his bowtie. He looked confident, poised, and of course cocky as all hell. But for some reason, it seemed to suit whatever was happening in this moment. He had a swagger about him as he got closer, one that made her knees weak.
He took her by the arm, helping her to her feet. "It's showtime," he said with a wink. She felt his hand travel down her arm, his fingertips caressing her skin. The heat between them spiked, and she resisted the urge to close her legs, to hide the ache that had already begun to stir inside her. "You're going to be a star tonight."
Her mind spun. What did that mean? She scanned the crowd; it was a sea of faceless people all with the same hungry look that Clayton had. She wasn't sure why, but even though she didn't recognize them, she couldn't help but feel a connection with each and every one of them, as if they had somehow been on a long journey together. Her eyes went wide as her gaze landed on the one face she didn't expect to see... Chris.
Front and center. His eyes were locked on her, an approving smile curled on his lips as he gave her a nod. He not only looked happy—he looked proud. Her heart ached to reach out to him, but Clayton's grip held firm, dragging her to the center of the stage.
She tried to call out to him, to shout his name, but it was useless. The noise of the crowd drowned her out. All she could do was look at him, desperate, confused, wanting to understand why he was there, what he was thinking.
She stumbled slightly as Clayton nudged her along. She was led to the center of the stage, her body moving almost on its own accord. There, a table sat, its surface covered with a rich, velvet cloth. The lights flickered, and then, without warning, a giant screen at the back of the stage lit up, blinding her for a moment before the images began to play.
“The first category of the night... ‘Best Villain You’d Still Let Hit.’”
The first image flashed across the screen. The man was young, fit, like he spent his days working out. Ashley felt a small twinge of attraction, her nipples growing tighter against the fabric of her gown. He looked like someone she would have had fun with during her college years. If this was indeed some type of award ceremony, she could see why he was nominated.
Then came the second picture.
A man in the woods, rugged, his eyes wild, his muscles rippling under a dirty t-shirt. He was dangerous. The hunger in his eyes made her body respond, and she rubbed her thighs together as her breath caught in her throat.
Her pulse quickened, but then… the third image.
Ashley recoiled. The man was grotesque. His features contorted in a way that should have been repulsive, but for some reason, he was in this category. He wasn’t attractive, but there was something in his eyes. Something dark that made Ashley press her body closer to Clayton.
“And the winner, with 53% of the vote… Clayton.”
The crowd erupted into cheers and whistles. Her heart pounded as Clayton stepped up to the podium, his hand gently tugging her with him. He didn’t even look at the screen, just accepted the golden, eggplant-shaped award as if it were his due.
"I'm not surprised by this at all," he chuckled at his own joke, his fingers sliding down Ashley’s back to her ass. "In fact, I imagine some of you," his gaze landed on Chris, "voted multiple times. You just can't help but picture me with your wives, can you?"
His fingers curled, separating her cheeks and causing her to gasp. She looked to Chris, who was giving Clayton a standing ovation. "You want me to do things to them you can't do yourself." His finger pressed against her puckered hole and a soft moan escaped her lips.
"Well, you're in luck because I plan for things to get much... much worse." He held the trophy up with his free hand and stepped away from the mic. "Don't worry, the night has only just begun," he whispered into her ear as he walked her back to the side of the stage, but didn't bother to remove his hand from her butt.
She could hardly breathe as he led her to the side of the stage. The lights dimmed for a moment, and she felt her nerves tighten, her body trembling with uncertainty, a strange mix of excitement and fear as to what he meant.
***
She hadn’t realized how close Clayton had gotten. His arm was wrapped around her waist, his leg pressed against hers. He leaned in, his lips brushing her ear and making that familiar electricity shoot through her. "Do you want to touch it?" he asked, smirking, placing the golden egg-plant trophy on the table in front of her.
The trophy gleamed under the stage lights. The thick, glossy eggplant was crafted entirely of gold, mounted on a black marble base, its exaggerated curve almost cartoonish. Almost. It was polished to a mirror shine, and Ashley couldn't help but walk her gaze along every contour line. From this angle, it almost looked it was pulsing. She couldn’t help it but trace the heavy crown of it with her eyes. The way it stood upright and proud made a flush creep down her neck. It was absurd, vulgar… and yet somehow, the sight made her mouth dry.
“It’s heavier than it looks,” Clayton said, guiding her hand toward the thick shaft of it. Before she could wrap her fingers around it, the crowd erupted again as the announcer’s voice rang out, and Ashley yanked her hand back to her side.
"The next category is for Best Use of Dirty Talk"
The crowd of faceless strangers seemed to hold their breath. She spotted Chris among them. He was mouthing something to her... Good luck? But why?
Before she could consider the reason, Clayton's hand began to move along her thigh. His fingers were warm, and she realized he must have gotten them under her gown while she was distracted. She tried to squirm away, but it only made the lace of her panties tug against her wet heat.
"Just relax, and enjoy the show. I like your odds with this one."
The screen flared to life with the first video. It looked like some type of pool scene, some tropical paradise that Ashley had never seen.
A woman with rich, dark skin sat in the shallow end, water glistening on her bare chest. She was straddling a man with a mediocre cock, but the look on her face was pure indulgence.
“I’ve seen the way you look at these, baby. Is this what you want?” _
Her voice was syrupy and slow as she pressed his cock between her breasts.
“Fuck, don’t stop. I’m so close,” the man groaned, lifting his hips in desperation.
“Mmm... not yet, lover. Just enjoy the show.” She smirked, sliding her tits up and down his shaft, as they watched another couple on the far end of the pool.
Ashley felt her thighs clench as she watched. The woman's confidence, her control, it was breathtaking.
“Not bad,” Clayton whispered, his fingers sliding higher under her gown, teasing the edge of her panties. “But not near as good as you. Remember all the filthy things you said to me?”
Ashley shook her head slowly, confused and flushed. “I don’t understand... what is all of this? Who are those people?” Her hips were already rotating ever-so-slightly, lost in the erotic nature of the clip.
The video ended, and Ashley let out a sigh of relief. However, it was short-lived, as the second nominee flickered onto the screen.
The woman on her knees was already slick with sweat as what looked like a hotel room came into focus. She worked a massive cock into her mouth, her gags magnified by the speakers around the theater. Spit and pre-cum dripped from her mouth, making obscene sloshing noises. Ashley recognized the grotesque man almost immediately. However, the revoltion she felt toward him early was gone, replaced by a hunger.
Her mouth watered as she watched the thick cock slip from the woman's lips. She was shocked by the raw size of him, maybe even more shocked by the way the woman took him so effortlessly.
“Sixty… fuck, sixty seconds,” he growled, watching the clock.
_“Mmmm, I can feel it coming. Give it to me, Michael,” the woman moaned, voice sultry and slick. “Give me your cum.”
Her tone was drenched in desire as her head bobbed, the sound of wet suction making Ashley's face burn.
She was mesmerized, the shame forgotten, the arousal undeniable.
Somewhere along the way, her fingers had wandered up to her chest, teasing her nipple through the thin lace as she threatened to bite a hole through her lip. Clayton’s hand had slid fully beneath her gown, fingers now cupped over her soaked panties, the damp fabric clinging between her folds.
“That one was pretty hot,” he said, pulling up on the band of her panties and causing the fabric to sink deeper between her folds, drawing a gasp from her lips.
Ashley tried to swat him away, but it wasn't a real attempt, and Clayton only laughed. “People can… you have to stop.”
“Don't you get it? They don't want me to stop. They want to see you let go." He released the fabric, his thumb rolling over her clit through the lace. “You have no idea how much they wish they were me. How they dream of the things you say."
The screen dimmed and the spotlight returned.
Ashley froze.
“And the winner, with 62% of the vote… Ashley.”
The crowd exploded. Applause, whistles, cheers, like nothing she'd ever experienced before. She felt her chest rising and falling rapidly, her nipples now fully exposed, the gown having slipped beneath them. She hadn’t even noticed when.
“Oh God,” she whispered, attempting to pull up the top. but she couldn't, Clayton's hand was already there. He was stroking her bare breast, while the other hand teased her pussy.
“Don’t you get it yet?” he whispered against her temple. "They love you, Ashley. They love watching you let yourself go. Hearing all the filthy things you say."
Her knees buckled, but Clayton head her steady.
Clayton’s lips brushed her ear again. "I think for your acceptance speech, you should give them a little treat."
Ashley stiffened. “Wh… what do you mean?”
His hand dipped lower, fingers sliding beneath her panties at last, finding the slick heat waiting for him. “The award is for best dirty talk, sweetheart. I’m sure they want to hear it.”
“I… I can’t.”
“Of course you can.” He began to stroke her. His movements were slow, tiny circles over her swollen clit, the barest hint of pressure that made her hips rock. “Tell them what I’m doing to you. Look at Chris and tell him where my fingers are.”
Her eyes locked on her husband across the room, frozen in his seat, mouth slightly parted, the smallest hint of a smile on his face. She closed her eyes, just briefly as she felt the tip of Clayton's finger dip into her molten core. When she opened them, her eyes slid down Chris's body. He was hard, maybe harder than she'd ever seen him.
Clayton's fingers pushed deeper, her dripping heat greedily sucking it in.
"Ahhh, fuck," she held Chris's gaze biting her lip. "He's... he's touching me." She rolled her hips, wanting it deeper. "Clayton's fingers are... mmm God, baby. His fingers are inside me."
"Louder," Clayton insisted, adding a second. "They're all watching you. Give them what they want."
"He's... yesss." She dropped her hips, every nerve ending exploding as she undulated against his fingers. "He's fucking me with his fingers. Ohhh, it feels so fucking good."
"Tell them how good it feels." His thumb rolled over her swollen nub, adding to the intense sensation washing over her. "Tell them what you want. Tell them what you are."
Her knees trembled, her mouth hanging open, tongue darting across her lips. "It feels so good. Soooo fucking good." she clung to his neck, her hips rising and falling faster. "I'm so fucking wet. Oh god, can you hear it? Can you hear how fucking wet he makes me?"
Her free hand went to her chest, rolling and pinching her nipple. "Keep going, baby, I want to cum. Ohhhh fuck I want to cum in front of all these people."
"I'm not stopping. I'm not going to stop until you cum all over my fingers. Until you admit to all these people that you're my slut." Ashley's pussy clenched down hard on Clayton's fingers wishing it were his cock. Her body tensed, and she held her breath as pleasure radiated out from her sex and seemed to light every nerve in her body on fire. She felt complete at that moment, with Clayton's fingers buried deep inside of her. Just then, Clayton curled his fingers inside her, and she felt a new level of bliss explode inside her.
"Oooohhh Fuck. I'm your slut," she screamed. "Fuuuck, Oh, baby. I love this. I love the way you make my body feel. I fucking love that all these people get to see just how easy you can make me cum."
Clayton’s fingers slipped from her slowly, dragging slickness along her trembling thighs. Ashley whimpered, her body clenching around nothing, left quivering and aching with need.
"Good girl," he murmured against her ear. "Now you have one of your own."
She blinked several times, her mind still catching up with what he meant even as he guided her to the center of the stage. The crowd erupted again as they approached the table, her legs barely working, her panties soaked and sticking to her skin.
Clayton whipped back the cloth with a flourish, and there it was, a golden eggplant of her own.
It glistened under the spotlight, ridiculous and obscene. Ashley hesitated, her fingers trembling as she reached for it. Shame burned in her cheeks as she wrapped her fingers around it, filling her with a need she couldn't describe. She looked out into the crowd, and held it into the air, a smile tugging at her lips.
***
As Ashley turned to step down, still gripping her absurd golden trophy, Clayton caught her by the wrist and pinned her face down onto the table.
"Actually," he murmured, his body pressing into hers, “there’s one more award I think you’ll be very interested in.”
Her eyes widened. “Wait, what—”
“I think we should stay right here,” he said, guiding her hips to meet his crotch. “For this one, standing off to the side just won't do.”
She let out a gasp as she felt his cock, hard and insistent, press into the valley of her ass. Her grip tightened around the eggplant in her hand, fighting the urge to stroke it.
“These are in the way,” Clayton growled, and with a sharp tug, ripped the thin lace of her panties clean off, leaving her completely exposed beneath her gown.
Ashley yelped, instinctively trying to cover herself, her hands darting between her thighs and dropping her award to the floor, but Clayton caught her wrist.
“Don’t be shy now,” he whispered against her neck. “They’ve already seen it. What they want more than anything now… is how it stretches around my dick.”
A moan escaped her lips, her pussy still twitching from the orgasm she just received as the lights dimmed again and the screen flickered back to life.
“And now… the next category of the evening. Hottest Sex Scene."
On screen, a woman about Ashley's age walked around an office. She positioned a camera in the corner of the room, bringing her finger to her lips to tell whomever was on the other side to be quiet. The screen flashed and suddenly the woman wasn't alone. Two handsome college aged twin boys passed her between them. She was naked now, her body covered in a light coat of sweat.
One twin moved behind her, gripping her hips as he rocked into her slowly, while the other stood at her side, stroking himself to the rhythm. She moaned then turned her head barely to fit the cock in her mouth. Her cheeks hollowed and glistened with spit, her moans growing louder around the shaft as the one behind her continued its hard pace.
Ashley stared, entranced. Her breathing grew shallow as Clayton’s hand slid over her belly and down. The familiar pressure of his cock against her bare backside made her thighs press together, uselessly trying to stifle the throb building between them.
She looked at the absurd trophy. Its thick, golden head practically mocking her. Her mind whispered an obscene suggestion before she could stop it. What would it feel like… to have both? To be like the woman on screen. Her hand drifted an inch toward it, her hips rocking on their own.
Clayton chuckled, his breath hot on her neck as he pulled his cock away, making her whimper. “Getting ideas, sweetheart?”
She froze, embarrassed and wanting.
“You remember our first time?” he murmured, fingers aching close to her swollen nub. “Chris rushed us back to your house so fast. Poor guy was almost more excited than you were.”
Ashley’s head turned instinctively. Chris was there, in the front row, openly stroking himself now. No shame. Just hunger. Their eyes met, and something inside her cracked. If he didn’t care anymore, why should she?
The screen shifted to a new scene: a spot in the woods, barely visible by moonlight. Clothes laid scattered and torn along the ground as the moans of another woman glided through the speakers.
The woman was pressed against a tree, her nails racking the back of her mate, drawing blood. He pulled back with a smirk, that looked surprisingly like Clayton's and a long breath left Ashley's lips.
She immediately recognized the man bringing the woman on screen such pleasure. He was the one from the early montage. The one nominated for “Villain You’d Still Let Hit.”
He drove into the woman hard, brutal, relentless. Each thrust echoed with sharp slaps of skin. The woman threw her head from side to side, but her body matched his intensity. Her hips rolled back to meet every punishing stroke.
“You’re such a good girl,” the man growled, teeth grazing her ear. “So eager to please now. Nothing like that reluctant, unwilling thing a few minutes ago.” He grabbed her hair and forced her to arch. “Ian can’t fuck you like this, can he?”
Ashley’s whole body went hot. Her knees trembled. Her pulse fluttered in her throat.
Clayton laughed darkly behind her, hands sliding up to her breasts. “Oh, Ashley. You know that feeling, don’t you?” He licked her neck. “The ache. The guilt. That knowing that Chris can never please you the way I can.”
Her eyes fluttered closed. "Please, baby." She wasn't sure what she was asking for. All she knew what that she wanted it, wanted him.
Somewhere between watching the second nominee and Clayton whispering into her ear, he had slipped out of his pants. Now, she could feel the entire length of his manhood, sliding between her soaked folds, its heat making Ashley pant. Her gown clung to her hips, but it might as well have been tissue paper.
She arched against him, desperate to tilt her body the right way, to feel him sink into her. But he didn’t let her.
Instead, his fingers wrapped in her hair and yanked, lifting her chest off the table, exposing her flushed skin and swollen breasts to the entire room. Her breath hitched.
“Take it off,” he growled. “Let them see what they came for. Let them see you naked, completely exposed. Just the way you like it.”
Ashley didn’t hesitate. She pulled the gown over her head and tossed it into the crowd. The audience murmured. Phones rose. Some people even clapped.
Clayton leaned in. “You want me to fuck you, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she whispered, breathlessly, reaching behind her body, trying to find him, needing to guide him in.
“You want everyone here to watch how well you take my cock?”
“Yes… please…” Her hand found the base of his shaft, slick with her arousal. She tried to line it up, but Clayton swatted her hand away.
“Not yet,” he said. “People love watching me fuck you so much, Ashley, we got nominated twice.”
She whimpered. His cock pressed against her aching clit, grinding, teasing, maddening. She bucked her hips ready to agree to anything he asked.
“The first time I fucked you,” he said casually, “was at your house. With Chris watching, impotent in his chair. You remember that night, don’t you?”
Ashley was nearly feral now, panting against the table, grinding against his shaft like an animal in heat.
Her voice cracked. “Y-yes… It was so fucking hot.” She bit her lip, her eyes fluttering open to look for her husband.
Chris was there, staring, just like that night. His cock looked red and angry.
"Tell him your favorite memory of that night," Clayton demanded.
Ashley’s tongue slid over her top lip. She watched as Chris’s hand moved faster. "Other than the way your cock stretch me like no one ever has?" She teased, as she watched a dribble of pre-cum leak from Chris.
"Yes, other than that."
Ashley closed her eyes, Remember the night that changed the rest of her life. When she opened them again, Chris was staring at her with an intensity that she rarely saw. "When..." she bit her lip. "When you were fucking me and you made him grab a pillow to put under my hips."
Clayton chuckled. "I bet he still hasn't washed that pillow case." He let the tip of his cock slip past her lips and Ashley roared in delight, but before she could impale herself further, he slipped out pressing a warm kiss on her neck. “That only got second place,” he teased. “Twenty-eight percent of the vote.” He paused, angling his hips to nudge her entrance again, not quite entering this time.
“You know what they loved the most?”
Ashley’s face burned. She knew. She’d never stopped thinking about it.
“Yesss…” she whispered.
“Tell me.”
She swallowed. No more shame. No more hiding. “The day I came over alone,” she said. “The day I became your slut… and let Tom watch me fuck.”
Clayton grinned, kissing her neck gently. “The same way all these people are going to watch me fuck you now?”
“Yes,” she breathed. “Please, baby. I want it so bad. Please… please fuck me.”
Before she could say anything else the spotlight cut through the dark, hitting the stage.
“In first place, with 58% of the vote… Ashley’s first time at Clayton’s house.”
The crowd erupted. Cheers, clapping, even whistling filled the air, the sound growing louder, showering Ashley with a satisfaction she didn't realize she needed.
And just as the roar crested, Clayton finally gave her what she’d been begging for. He thrust forward, hard, burying himself inside her in one powerful stroke.
"Ohhhh fuuuck, ugggnnh," Ashley's head lolled back, her arms splayed wide on the table, searching for anything to grab ahold of. In this position, it looked like she was offering herself to the entire room, and they were more than happy to accept her.
She was so wet, so worked up, that she was actually worried that Clayton was going to slip out of her. Her walls wrapped around his girth, desperate to make sure he didn't slip away.
Clayton pushed through the vise grip Ashley's pussy had on his cock, continuing to thrust inside of her, building back to the steady pace. Her body was on fire tonight, and he didn't want to cum too soon. They had a show to put on.
"SO BIG... Fuck, baby, you're so fucking big." Ashley's cries echoed through the packed theater where almost a thousand people watched her completely let go. Her back arched off the table as she turned her head, her tongue eagerly seeking out his.
“Feel that?” he murmured, breaking the kiss. “That’s what they came to see.”
"It's so good. It feels soooo fucking good."
She could already feel another orgasm building, this one coming on almost as fast as the last. The hairs on her neck began to stand on end. Her pussy felt like it was on fire and the heat was radiating out from her body, the pressure behind the dam starting to build, waiting to explode out.
"Ohhh fuck, baby. I'm going to cum. I'm... fuck, I'm going to cum again."
Clayton could feel her pussy spasm around him. His breathing came in short bursts, not wanting himself to cum yet. "Do it, cum for me, Ashley. Look over at Chris and tell him how much you love being my slut."
"Ohhh... Ahhh fuck," Ashley scanned the crowd, but she couldn't focus. The orgasm building inside her was threatening to rip out of her and her vision blurred. Finally her eyes landed on, who she thought was Chris. "I'm going to cum, baby. Oh Fuck. I can't help it. I fucking love it. I love being his slut. I love the way..."
Clayton's hand crashed down on her ass making stars appear in her vision.
"Uhhhh... Ohhhh... UHHHHH"
She came hard, her body convulsing around him as a chorus of moans and cheers swelled in response. It felt like a tidal wave of pleasure crashing down on her. She collapsed forward, panting, shuddering as aftershocks rippled through her. But Clayton wasn’t done.
He pulled her upright again, guiding her toward the edge of the stage, toward the front row. The lights glared down. She blinked, dazed, barely registering her surroundings until she felt him sit, still hard, still inside her, and drag her down onto his lap.
“Ride me,” he said, low and firm, his hand wrapped around her throat—not choking, just holding. “Let them see you.”
She moved without thinking, bouncing on him as the crowd leaned in, phones raised, breaths held. From the front row, she could feel hands brushing her thighs, her hips, one even daring to touch her breast before Clayton batted it away with a growl.
The sheer vulgarity of it all, of being used and displayed, pushed her forward unable to get enough of the brutal treatment Clayton was giving her. Her moans grew louder, shameless, her body glistening under the lights.
Clayton held her hips tightly, guiding her pace as he bucked up into her.
“You want it, don’t you?” he whispered, his lips grazing her ear. “You want to feel me cum inside you. You want to make a mess for them. Let them all see it leaking out of you.”
She whimpered, nodding frantically. “Yes… yes, please, I want it so bad… God, Clayton fill me. Fucking cum inside me."
Her body fell forward, unable to hold herself upright anymore as she rocked her hips hungry for his release. He took her nipple into his mouth, biting down and eliciting another moan from her.
Ashley was trembling, teetering between exhaustion and need, the wet lewd sounds of their body slapping together growing louder. Suddenly, the music played and the lights suddenly dimmed again.
For our last category of the night...
Clayton slowed, but didn't stop fucking Ashley. He was so close to cumming, he wasn't sure what was happening. He wasn't nominated for any other award. He thought they were done.
With 56% of the vote...
"Cum for me, baby. Give me your cum," Ashley continued to plead, oblivious of what was happening around her.
Clayton blinked, the haze of orgasm denial clouding his focus. He narrowed his eyes as the lights shifted unexpectedly. The music faded out. Applause was replaced by a strange silence. There was no announcement, the screen didn't play like other categories. All he heard, over Ashley's moans, was the squeak of wheels. Then the soft slosh of water in a bucket.
A figure emerged from stage left, slow and casual, whistling some unrecognizable tune. The janitor. Mop in hand, pushing his bucket like this was any other Wednesday night cleanup.
Clayton sat up slightly, still buried inside Ashley, her trembling thighs clamped around him. “What the hell do you want?” he barked. “We’re busy.”
The janitor didn’t even look at him. He stopped just a few feet away, tilted his head, and set down the mop. His smile was lazy as his eyes never left Ashley.
Then he dropped the act entirely. In one fluid motion, he peeled off his coveralls, revealing a thick, heavy cock already rising. He grabbed a bottle of lube from the front pocket, popped the cap, and let a generous stream coat his shaft. It glistened as he stroked himself, slow and purposeful.
"What's wrong? Why'd you stop?" Ashley whined, her hips still lifting and falling onto Clayton's shaft.
“Hello again, darlin’,” the janitor said, his voice low and unmistakable. “Just here for my reward.”
"Oh, God," she whispered, nearly cumming on the spot. Her walls flexed around Clayton, her velvet grip not allowing him to escape.
"Hold on a second..." Clayton's voice sounded almost panicked now, as Ashley leaned forward, suffocating him with her large chest as the janitor took his spot behind her.
The janitor's slick hands grabbed her ass, spread her cheeks wide. "I told you," he mused, hotdogging his cock between the soft flesh of her ass. "Next time I saw you, I was going to take what was mine. You remember that, don't ya?"
Her response was a whimper, her hips rolling across the heavy cock between her cheeks, while Clayton withered underneath her.
"I don't share," Clayton grunted, but no one was listening. He pushed at Ashley's chest to make her sit back up, but the janitor was applying his own force behind her, not giving her anywhere to go.
"Ohhh fuck," she ran her fingers through Clayton's hair, kissing her neck. The janitor had pulled back slightly, running his fingers over her tight, puckered entrance. A single lube-covered finger teasing her rim.
Clayton felt the moment the janitor's finger slipped past her ring. Ashley's body shuddered, her walls squeezing him harder. "I'm... fuck. Ashley, we have to stop this. You're mine." He could feel his orgasm starting to build, despite his protests. He pushed on her shoulders again, but it only pushed her further back onto the thick finger in her ass, making her body shake.
"This is what you need, isn't it darlin? To have both of your holes filled?"
"Yes... fuck, yes, please."
"No, no. All you need is me," Clayton grunted, but he knew it was a lost cause.
Her body was on fire with need. She arched like an animal, presenting herself, her hips caught in a brutal rhythm between the thick cock still inside her and the other about to enter.
The janitor whistled softly. “God damn, that feels good. You ready for the real thing, baby?”
“Get the fuck off my stage before I—”
He pulled his finger out slowly, and Ashley let out a sharp, desperate sigh. Then she felt him press the thick, veiny head of his cock against her back entrance. He pushed forward, greeted by instant warmth. Her body trembled as she opened for him, inch by inch, taking him deeper.
“Ohhhh fuck,” Ashley cried into Clayton’s neck, biting down hard to muffle the scream.
Clayton’s breath caught. “Ugh... fuck.” The pressure. The stretch. Ashley's teeth sinking into his skin. It overwhelmed him. His body jerked, and he came hard inside her, losing control just as he tried to take it back.
Ashley felt it the moment Clayton came. The sudden warmth flooding her, the twitch of his cock inside her walls. His breath caught in his throat as his body jerked beneath her. As each blast of seed hit her sensitive nerves, her body responded, pushing back onto the janitor, his cock sinking deeper into her ass.
"Ugggh, fuck. So full. So...fucking...full." Her eyes flew open, her nails digging into Clayton's shoulders.
The janitor grunted in surprise. “Yeah, just like that, darlin. Give the janitor exactly what he needs.” He grabbed her waist and drove in deeper. She moaned louder. She could still feel Clayton inside her; he was softening slightly, but not fully gone. He stayed there, lodged in her, twitching. And now the janitor was filling her from behind. The pressure was unbearable. Perfect.
Clayton tried to speak, but it came out in a ragged whisper. “Ashley… wait…”
The janitor leaned forward, his sweaty chest brushing against Ashley’s back, he sneered at Clayton. “Look at you. Pretty boy, talkin’ like he’s in charge. You ever make her feel like that? You're all bark son, no balls. Couldn’t even hold out until she was satisfied.” He smirked, pushing his last remaining inches into Ashley. "Let me show you how a real man does it."
Keeping his cock in her ass, the janitor pulled her back to him, shifting their position slowly until she was on top of him, her legs spread wide as she faced the crowd, giving them quite the view. This gave Clayton the opportunity he needed to slide out from under her.
"No, please," she whimpered, but was stopped as the janitor swatted her ass.
"I told you I don't share," Clayton huffed, storming off the stage.
"We don't need him. Look at all these people. I bet there's someone in the crowd who could take his place. Look at how they are all staring at you. You're on display for them."
He was right; in this position they could see everything. Her large tits hung from her slim body, shiny with spit and sweat. Her stomach was flat, tight and tense where she held it all in as she spread her thighs. Her pretty, shaved slit still engorged, still open and leaking Clayton's seed.
"Chris... Oh God, baby. I need you up here."
"Tell him what you want."
"I want him to fuck me." Her speech was laden with exertion. "I want to feel both of you inside me at the same time."
For a moment, Clayton paused at the end of the stage, his hands balled into fists, as jealousy coursed through his veins. He expected Ashley to call out to him, to beg him to stay. Instead, it was Chris she wanted.
"Think you can do that, Chris?" The janitor's deep voice rose over the crowd. "Think you can get hard enough to help me DP your wife?"
There was a small commotion in the crowd, and Ashley tried to focus her eyes to see what was going on but it was useless. Luckily, she didn't have to wait too long. She heard footsteps on stage somewhere beside her. Then Chris was there, standing over her, his cock already in hand.
"I... I can do it," he said, with as much bass as he could muster as he stared at the giant cock in his wife's ass.
"Atta boy," the janitor chuckled, as Chris took up his position between Ashley's open legs.
Ashley reached out, taking her husband's cock in her hand and after a couple of steady pumps, guided him to her waiting pussy, pumping it in her hand and against her clit.
"Do it," the janitor hissed.
"Ohhh," she barked, as she felt the second cock begin to enter her. "Oh my..." The janitor snaked his hand around her neck, squeezing just hard enough that she could feel it. "OH FUUUUCCCCK!"
"That's it, Chris. Fuck her. Take back what's yours," the janitor said, his thrusts starting to sync with the man in her pussy. "You saw how naughty she was tonight. The things she let Clayton do to her."
Chris didn't respond, but his thrusts got harder, the wet slapping noises of flesh on flesh echoing through the building. The janitor smiled, his thrusts getting wilder.
Ashley whimpered and clenched, squeezing both of them. “Don’t stop… God, don't fucking stop…”
Ashley said it, but they were all thinking it. The sensation was otherworldly, like nothing they'd ever experienced before. Sweet torture that they all wanted more of.
"She's squeezing me so fucking tight back here, Chris. Her ass really is one of a kind. I can't wait to take it again."
Ashley grabbed Chris's head and gave him a searing kiss. The man was completely lost in her, the audience could see it in the kiss. The passion, the love, not just in this moment, but for eternity.
"AHHHH FUCK. YESSS YES. I- AhhHHHFFFUUUCCK"
Ashley broke the kiss as she came, driving her hips up to meet her husband's thrusts. The janitor rose with her, grinding her hips against Chris's. He didn't relent either, kissing her neck, the back of her jaw, all the secret places that only a husband would know.
"Cum, baby. Cum for me. I want to feel it," Ashley whined, her eyes shut tight, her nails leaving red marks along his back. "I need it, baby. So bad. So fucking bad."
"Oh, yes, oh, God," he grunted, slamming forward. Their mouths met again, sloppy and wet, their breathing uneven.
The janitor dropped both arms behind himself, flexing the best he could to bridge up into them. It seemed to work as Ashley once again tore her mouth away from Chris, throwing her head back and letting out a scream.
"Oh.... Oh fuck," Ashley was back in the moment again, staring deep into her husband's eyes as the janitor punished her ass.
"Cum... Ugh fuck. Cum in my ass." she whined, her eyes never leaving Chris's. With a final thrust, the janitor gave her exactly what she wanted. He buried himself in her ass, her body spasming around him, as rope after rope flooded her system before releasing her arms.
Ashley collapsed forward, twitching, gasping. Chris in front of her, breathing hard, still semi-hard inside her, his expression unreadable. With a low chuckle, the janitor pulled out of her ass, slowly, a loud 'pop' echoing through the theater as his thick, white seed seeped from her ass.
Ashley reached out for Chris, closing her eyes. Then the lights dimmed, and everything went black.