*She made sure to tug down on her top, exposing the graceful curve of her tanned breasts through the deep cut of the flowing white blouse. She had money to win, and this was the finals, after all. With her dark hair in ringlets, full lips, deep, penetrating eyes, and soft, full curves, Amanda had tripped every male contestant into fucking her before the week-long game ended. She wasn’t about to lose now, but there was only one more day to go.*
Grant adjusted his jeans. He could not get comfortable. He was not allowed to touch his own cock except when he was pissing, and even that was getting difficult, as the slightest touch made him get hard. Living with Amanda, alone, on live-stream for a week had been the single most demanding act of sexual self-control he’d ever experienced. But this was it, the final day, a million dollars if he won, and all he had to do was not fuck her, that and, as per the contract they’d both signed, not wait and fuck after either. No contact at all between contestants for a year afterwards or the prize money was gone. It would be too easy to cheat and fuck afterwards, otherwise.
The viewcount, displayed on one of the many transparent glass screens affixed to various parts of the wall, hovered at around five million. It dipped when they were both sleeping, in the same damn bed, mind you, but not by much. People had been watching him fall apart at the seams for the past three days. He was good at this, knowing how to appear like he was losing control, you had to if you wanted to keep the viewers interested, but never actually losing control. He wanted that damn money. Only this time he didn’t have to pretend at all.
*She sat close to him on the couch, turning, smiling slightly as his eyes turned towards her breasts and lingered for far too long before rising to her lips and her eyes, never losing that hunger. She could see his cock stiffen beneath the denim as she placed a hand on his thigh. She couldn’t touch it, of course, not unless he initiated that kind of contact, but she could tease him. “Movie?” She asked, grabbing the laptop off the coffee table and opening it up, pointing the browser at Netflix. He nodded, so she set the laptop on his legs, her hand hovering dangerously close to his crotch, his hips moving slightly, pushing closer. She raised and eyebrow at him, smiled, then got up. “I’ll get snacks,” she said.*
“A movie. Good, distracting.” Grant whispered to himself. He watched Amanda’s hips sway as she left to the kitchen of the small apartment they shared for the duration of this online reality show. This kind of thing would never be shown on regular TV, of course. The pay-off for the audience was that if the couple fucked, the audience could watch the whole thing; the stream never cut out. Hidden cameras placed all over the apartments, some in surprisingly raunchy places, let viewers see any angle they wanted to. Amanda was the most popular contestant for obvious reasons, and while Grant had been confident that he could withstand her charms, he had run into a problem he didn’t expect – He actually liked her. As a person, not just as somebody he wanted to fuck, though he felt that way too. He felt so comfortable with her, so private and connected. It was a show, of course, but it didn’t feel like that. That had always been his secret, he did not want to have sex in front of millions of people. It made him feel weird, and he’d hung on to that to keep his cock in his pants every other round of the show. With the highest viewcount in the show’s history, this should feel like the most public thing he’d ever done, but he found himself feeling utterly alone with her. He heard the bell chime, 8 hours left until Midnight on the seventh day. The rules changed, slightly, giving Amanda more freedom to take her clothes off in front of him, touch him, and, in the last hour, do whatever she wanted to him. He wasn’t sure he could make it. He felt precum forming on the tip of his cock. Fuck! She wasn’t even touching him, then he heard her come back into the room.
*Amanda turned the corner back into the living room, two wine glasses held upside down in one hand, a bottle of wine, cork popped but placed back in, clutched between her forearm and stomach, and a bar of dark chocolate held in the other hand. She had a pink popsicle in her mouth, and she fought the urge to grin around it as she saw Grant’s breath catch and lips part simultaneously when he saw her. He closed his mouth and glared, a look that said, “you did that on purpose.” She set the glasses, wine, and chocolate down, then slowly pulled the popsicle from her mouth, sucking it hard, her cheeks pulling in around it, her chin slightly down, her eyes looking up at him. “Sorry,” she said, putting the popsicle back in her mouth the sucking on it hard as she pulled it back out. She had her hand on his thigh again, rubbing softly, and felt him quiver when her lips made a popping sound over the tip of the frozen phallus, “I ran out of hands and didn’t have anywhere else to put it.” He groaned, and she hit play on the movie, a horror flick, something that would give her an excuse to jump while pressed against him. He poured two glasses of wine, handed her one, then drank deeply on the other, clearly trying to take his mind off things. She leaned against him as the opening credits rolled, feeling him, warm but tense, and she shivered a little when he put an arm around her. “Putting a good show on?” She asked.*
“I just wanted to,” he said, lips tightening after as he stared at the screen. She had been watching him though, and he was glancing down at her constantly, not just her breasts, but all of her, her hair and eyes and mouth, and of course her tits, too. She smiled. It was clear he liked her, and she liked him too. She’d given up on making him crack, though. He wanted the cash more than he wanted her, and that was understandable. It was a lot of money for the final. That didn’t mean she wasn’t going to torture him before he got it. She got up, dragging her hand along his thigh. The movie was ending, and she heard the bell sound. Five hours left. She could kiss him, now, and he could kiss her back as long as she started it. “Excuse me,” Amanda said, turning and walking to the bathroom. She closed the door, took a deep breath, and sighed. Then she turned to where she knew a hidden camera was and winked. She reached behind her, unclasping her bra, and pulled it off her shoulders and out through the bottom of her shirt. She tossed it in the hamper and looked at herself in the mirror. She was a bit flush, her lips parted though she hadn’t known it, and her nipples were sticking out through the white blouse. It left little to the imagination. She blushed a bit, thinking of the camera. “Since when did I do that,” she muttered under her breath. Then she opened the door, and walked back out to have fun torturing Grant before he won. Then her breath caught.*
It simply wasn’t worth it, he knew. A million dollars would go a long way for a guy like him, and it shouldn’t be worth it to throw it away. But he also knew that he couldn’t buy what he felt for any amount of money. “Fuck the contract,” he said, as he got up and walked towards the door. He heard the bathroom door close as Amanda emerged, and turned to see her there, gorgeous face, perfect body, hair spilling around her shoulders as she looked at him with surprise. They both froze for a second, then he spoke.
“If I leave you win, and that’s okay with me,” he began. He paused, not sure where to go from there, but she didn’t speak, so he continued. “I don’t know if you want to be with me, but I…I like being here with you, and I don’t want to regret giving up the option of being with you for money. I’ll lose, and I’ll wait the year,” he unlocked the door, getting ready to go. “If you feel anything like I do,” he said, growing quieter. “Please call me. I’ll wait.”
*“I don’t want to wait,” Amanda said, still frozen except for those five small words. She stared at him, really seeing what he felt for the first time: lust, of course, passion, yes, and, beneath all of that, sincere caring for her. “I don’t want,” she began again, but she didn’t have time to finish as he crossed the room to her.*
He pulled his shirt over his head while he was still in motion toward her, wanting every barrier between their skin gone. He rushed to her, wrapping her in a tight embrace, pressing her lips to his, his hand wrapped up in her hair, her tits pressed against his chest, fuck he could feel her nipples pressing against him. He kissed her, lingering, growing softer, and then everything happened in a rush. She pulled her shirt off, and for the first time he saw her with no top on. He’d dreamed of it, of course, but the reality was better than anything he’d imagined. Full breasts, ready to felt, grabbed, tasted. He grew harder and she let out a soft moan as he unbuttoned his jeans, his cock aching to get out, and felt her hand move down to the hem of his boxers, then inside. The world exploded in pleasure when she touched him.
One of his hands was on her breast and the other had somehow made its way up under her skirt. She didn’t remember that happening, but she felt how wet she was reflected in how his fingers slid easily over her pussy. Her clit ached for him, and every time he brushed it with his thumb she felt her hand grip harder on his cock. She couldn’t pull her hands off of it, and she couldn’t pull her lips from his. He pressed her onto the couch and she took the chance to pull her panties off. He started to slide his hand up her leg, toward her pussy again, but instead she pulled him down, forcing his hand to her hip, guiding his cock towards her.
“I’ve wanted this so badly,” he said, panting as they both froze, making eye contact as the tip of his cock rested against her.
“Me…” and she gasped, the “too” she was about to say turning into a moan as he entered her. She clamped down tight on him, her hips working in rhythm with his, but she was so wet that he moved easily in her. They kept going, making love as it grew darker and darker outside, sometimes pausing just to taste one another’s lips again, hands exploring each other’s bodies, adjusting, turning, sometimes with him on top of her, his weight holding her against the couch, sometimes with her on top, his eyes drinking in her tits and her hips and the sight of his cock disappearing into her over and over again.
——————————–
She had already cum several times, her pussy clamping down on his cock, gripping it as she quivered and writhed with pleasure, but when they came together it was unlike anything she’d ever felt. A muffled scream came from between his lips. She looked down as his eyes rolled back, his back arching and his head pressed backwards, and she felt it, his cum, filling her up, a thick warmth extending from his cock inside of her, filling her up in a way she’d never felt before. Her whole body throbbed with the pleasure of it, and it seemed to last somewhere between a moment and eternity, more of him spilling into to her, gasp after gasp of pleasure, a combined moaning as the two of them became completely lost in one another, and then it was over.
She rested her head on his chest, feeling it rise and fall quickly. He was still inside of her, his cum beginning to leak out around his cock, but neither moved. They both just stayed there, still. Then their eyes met, and she nodded. He slipped himself out of her, his cock and her cunt dripping wet, and they got dressed. He took her hand and the walked to the door, slipping out into the night.
Contract broken, no money earned, but both still feeling like they had won. They never even looked at the viewcount on the wall, though thirteen million people sat aroused, breathless, and stunned, as a woman walked away from a million dollars into the night.
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/8hs4zf/mf_its_only_a_million_dollars