Page 95 of Going for Gold (Sweet Cravings 3)

Sunday

Alina

"Fode-la, fode-la!"

I knew I shouldn't do it. I liked Bryce, but this might not be him. This man who was claiming to be Bryce wasn't wearing protection. And we were in front of thousands of people. Oh God. Is this still being broadcast all over the world? I looked out at the cameras, at the judges, at the audience, and at the jumbotrons. On the TVs, I could see myself in perfect detail bent over in front of a row of my dancers. I hadn't realized it before, but they were all moving their hips doing some strange two step dance thing, keeping up with the idea that the performance was still going. Or is it really still going? Is Tim really this big of a pervert? Is Bryce? The real Bryce had a chance to stop this. Apparently this was what he wanted. Is it what I want?

The backup dancers were all completely nude except for their faces being covered by the remains of their American flag morph suits. The morph suits that Gabriela had tampered with to try to torpedo my performance. The thought of her made my blood boil. And then a wonderful thought crossed my mind. What if she actually screwed herself? What if getting fucked on stage is exactly what I need to do to win gold?

I glanced up at the screen again. It was a perfect side view of me bent over. The guy behind me had my hips firmly in the grasp of his muscular arms. His abs glistened in the lights shining on stage. And his cock. God, his cock was huge. Way longer than Chris', and way thicker. All I had to do was arch my back a little more and move back an inch and I'd get to feel his length slide into me.

"Fode-la!"

Get a grip, Alina! You can't fuck Bryce in front of all these people! Especially if it's not Bryce!

As a world class athlete, I always thought I had impressive self control. I didn't like running or waking up early, yet I made myself get up every morning to go for a jog. I was able to resist the comfort of sleeping in and spending the morning snuggled up inside with a nice cup of coffee. But there were some things that the human body just isn't wired to resist. After not having sex for four weeks, saying no to his throbbing cock was as difficult as a parched wanderer in the Sahara denying himself a canteen of water, or a long haul truck driver who had been awake for 48 hours saying no to a warm, fluffy bed. I had a hunger, and my brain wouldn't let me say no when it was this close to be being satiated.

I made one final stand against my libido with the thought of unplanned pregnancy, but my subconscious squashed that objection by reminding me that I'm on birth control.

"It's me, Alina," Bryce said from behind me. "We can beat Gabriela. Just trust me."

I arched my back and turned to face the man behind me. Please be Bryce. "Fuck me."

He didn't hesitate for even a second. The muscles in his arms rippled as he grabbed my hips harder and thrust into me.

"Oh God," I moaned. After being denied sex for four weeks, feeling his cock push into me was the best fucking feeling in the world. I bent over more and pushed on the floor, forcing him deeper inside of me until he couldn't go any further.

He groaned behind me.

The crowd roared with approval. Holy shit, the crowd. I looked out at the thousands of people in the audience, but I couldn't really make out any of their faces. The bright lights shining down on the stage made it nearly impossible to see anything in the audience except for silhouettes.

Bryce pulled out so that the tip of his erection was rubbing against my clit and then thrust back in. Pleasure shot through me, building with each thrust. It was everything I had imagined and more.

"Dude, is he fucking her?" asked one of the other dancers.

Oh God, I'm still on stage.

"Yes I am," said Bryce. He slammed into me again.

Yes!

"I guess

it's a go then? I'd love to feel her tight pussy next."

What's a go? I turned to look at him. All the backup dancers did back flips and then started doing something way more elaborate. It was so hard to focus on what they were doing when Bryce was having his way with me. His fingertips dug into my skin. God. Wait, was this whole thing planned? All the backup dancers were dancing in perfect rhythm.

"Can I fuck her next?" asked another guy.

I turned to look at him. For some reason I expected to see his face, but of course, I couldn't. All I could see were his model-like muscles and throbbing erection.

"No," I moaned. "Just Bryce."

"I'm Bryce, baby." He ran his finger down my spine, sending chills through my whole body.

Shit! I looked behind me at the man fucking me. His powerful hands dug into my hips harder with every thrust. "Does that mean you're not Bryce?"

"We're all Bryce, Alina."

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