The lights come up and we enter stage right. I’m leading, holding his hand he follows. I turn and stare at him, the audience falls quiet.
They know what’s coming. They see the bed placed in the middle of the stage, they see my tiny dress and his exposed arms, the dim lights and the soft music. They hear his small grunt as he picks me up and I swear they can hear my tongue slide into my mouth. Yes, for the first time tonight, the packed house falls utterly silent.
My legs are wrapped around him, my ankles locked behind his ass. His strong hands have slid up my skirt and I wonder how much the front rows can see.
He carries me over the bed in three short strides, pulls the covers aside and collapses on top of me. His kisses are always so good, so firm and confident. They got me wet every time in rehearsals and I am soaked now.
We pull the covers over us and rearrange so that I’m on top with my back to the audience. I grind on him, kissing him, pressing my breasts against his chest, feel his cock hardening and pressing against me. He got hard every time in rehearsals too, and I’m glad he’s not suffering stage fright tonight. Tonight is special.
His shirt comes off and is thrown across the stage. We kiss again and my pussy throbs as my hands caress his bare skin. It’s now or never.
I sit up, making sure to line the bulge in his jeans up with my aching pussy, and in one motion pull my dress up over my head. I am completely naked underneath. The hot lights beat on my back as the script direction “she strips to her underwear” echoes through my mind. No underwear, not tonight.
I can see for a split second that he is surprised, then he understands. Then he takes a nipple in his mouth. I gasp and grind.
His hands are at his belt. Stage direction: “he fumbles with jeans and implies removal”. In one smooth thrust his jeans are off and they too are thrown across the stage. His cock is pressed against me, hard and insistent. He grinds his hips, dragging the head across my lips, bumping and nudging my clit.
Stage direction: “under the covers, they simulate sex”.
I reach down, grip his cock and slide it inside me. He moans and I swear I hear a whimper of lust from the audience. The covers are pooled around my ass, hiding just enough as I start riding him. He’s so hard and I’m so wet, I can smell my juice and his sweat. Up and down, lifting off and burying deep. The lights are so hot, sweat trickles down my back too.
I lean back and place my hands on his thighs, arching over so the audience can see my face, can see my tits bounce as I fuck this beautiful man in front of them.
Five of my friends are in the audience. They’re watching me fuck. One of them I quite fancy. He’s watching me fuck, getting a preview of what could be his. I hope he’s hard. I hope every man in this place is hard and every woman wet. When they go home tonight and fuck, I want them to think of me, naked on a stage, a man’s cock buried deep inside me, and I want them to wonder if what they saw was real or just acting.
He grips my tits, I sense he’s going to cum. The thought pushes me towards the edge and I cry out for him to fuck me, fuck me hard. He does, five delicious, deep thrusts and then come the moans and throbs and hardness and wetness. He cums deep inside me and I shudder and shake on top of him.
The lights drop. Darkness. I dismount him, kiss him quietly and take him by the hand. As we exit stage left, his cum trickles slowly down the inside of my thigh.
—
*Authors note*: This is enormously, unapologetically inspired by an amazing story along very similar lines on Literotica that I tragically cannot find anymore, so I decided to write this hornmage :)
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/db88gf/stage_right_exhibitionism_voyeur_str8_short