Page 89 of Going for Gold (Sweet Cravings 3)

Fuck! Did my boner combined with Alina pulling the tab really make my suit explode? Or did someone tamper with my suit like I had done to poor Yao Kai? Why the fuck did I let Tim convince me to go commando under the morph suit?

My first instinct was to put my hands over my junk, but I quickly decided that wasn't an option. This was a choreographed dance, but the audience didn't know what we had been choreographed to do. As a result, all we had to do was make it look like everything was planned. And that meant not covering my junk. As far as the audience and judges knew, male nudity was just part of the routine.

I glanced to the side to see if I was the only one suffering a wardrobe malfunction. Part of me assumed that my dick was the biggest and therefore most likely to rip my suit open, but it turned out that wasn't the case. Well, actually, my penis was definitely the biggest, but that didn't mean that my suit was the only one to rip open. We were all standing in a row, erections pointed right at the judges.

I tried to get a read on how the judges felt about our collective wardrobe malfunction. The Asian lady had her lips tightly pursed, clearly not impressed. But the French lady looked amused, and I was sure the three male judges were enjoying Alina's dance. If we were lucky, eight guys whipping their dicks out would boost the creativity portion of Alina's score.

After unleashing the penis of the eighth and final backup dancer, Alina spun around and lay on the stage. Then she got on all fours and began crawling in front of us. If I didn't already have a boner, watching her arch her back and crawl across the stage definitely would have given me one. It was impossible not to picture myself walking up behind her, ripping her thong off, and fucking her right there on stage. God, her ass was a thing of beauty.

The only problem was that every other guy in the world watching her performance, including the seven men standing next to me, were likely thinking the same thing. Whatever. They could look and want all they wanted, but at the end of the day, she was mine. Hell, in less than five minutes she'll be mine.

As Alina crawled in front of us, the dancer to my left began tearing the remnants of his suit off, leaving only his head covered. It was probably a good idea, because if we didn't take them off, the torn suits could have been a tripping hazard during the end of the routine. One of the other dancers followed his lead, and then another. Soon we were all tearing our suits off.

Chapter 39

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. 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 can spend 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 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 comple

tely 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?

I turned towards the final backup dancer, crawling towards him. I was supposed to climb up him like a sexy cat, which wouldn't have been that weird if the tabs had worked correctly and only exposed his abs. But with him naked, the climb took on a much sexier tone. 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 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 heart beat accelerated and my body tingled with desire.

"Sorry," I muttered. I was pretty sure that the climb wasn't supposed to be done on Bryce, which meant I was molesting some random guy. Awkward.

"I don't mind at all," he said. "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, so that 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.

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