I couldn’t move my gaze off his strong body, and his eyes were similarly directed at me. Had he been watching backstage as the men touched me? Did he know how badly I ached for his touch?
The lights on the stage dimmed as he made his way over to me. His eyes gave nothing away when he stood between my thighs. Dimly, I sensed the cameras coming in closer for the best angle. This was the moment everyone in the world was waiting to see. The absence of sex in the majority of the world’s population hadn’t taken away any of the fascination for it. Everyone wanted to see his penis slide into me. If only the audience knew the whole story behind me and Ethan, they’d be going even crazier now. About as frantic as the beat of my heart.
I closed my eyes waiting to be probed, but nothing happened. My eyes flew open. Ethan hovered over me, hands planted above my shoulders. “Jane,” he said. “Hi, I missed you.”
He was taking the time to talk? Now?
My disbelief must have shown on my face. “We’re about to have sex,” he said in a low voice. “Do you want this?” he asked.
I nodded furiously. If he didn’t start touching me, I was going to grab his hard cock and force him into me, but then an awful thought occurred. “Do you?”
A slow smile spread across his face. “I really do.”
Oh, of course he did, or else he wouldn’t have fought as hard for the chance to have me.
“Do it then,” I said, nearly silently. Something grew inside me I didn’t understand. For the last six years I’d been picturing this day, this moment, in my head. Not once did I expect it to be Ethan, nor had I expected him to take the time to talk to me. Most years, the winner jumped on the Breeder in a mad rush to get inside her as fast as possible. Ethan hadn’t. He’dtalkedto me. He’d asked permission, and it was so wondrous, I forgot to be nervous. Thank God I hadn’t taken the drug. I was clear-minded and ready to note everything happening around me, to me.
I ran a hand through his hair to see if it had changed as much as his body. It was the same as I remembered. The skin on his cheeks had changed, though, and it intrigued me. A dark prickly shadow covered his cheeks and chin. It scratched at me in the best possible way as Ethan bent over to kiss my breasts, rubbing his tongue over one nipple then the other. I arched into him. The eleven men watching us closely from the front row were ignored, the cameras forgotten.
I planted tiny kisses on as much of Ethan’s skin as I could reach. Reverently his hands cupped my breasts and he leaned over me to kiss me. My lips parted, and his tongue slipped in, rubbing against mine. It was amazing; the best thing I’d ever felt.
“What’re you waiting for?” Michael hissed from offstage. “Fuck her. The world’s waiting.”
If Ethan heard the warning, he didn’t show it. Instead, his hands lowered to stroke my belly down to the juncture of my thighs. I was already wet from the other men’s ministrations, and I eagerly welcomed his touch.
He was obviously a virgin like I was, but somehow he knew what to do to make my body sing with need and desire.
“Hurry up.” Another warning from offstage. The people wanted their show and the government had to deliver.
We stared in each other’s eyes. “Ready?” he asked.
“I’m ready.” I spread my thighs as far as I could while he guided his penis inside me. There was no barrier, no pain as virgins of long ago experienced. I’d been given the model of a penis for a reason, and used it to my advantage. Ethan slid in me as though he were made for me. I’d been so close to orgasm when the other competitors had been touching me that I didn’t think it would take much to bring me to the brink.
The cameras focused on my every moan and pant as I was filled for the very first time with living flesh. I’d remember to be embarrassed later. Now, there was only Ethan on top of me, inside me. My palms stroked the sweat-dampened muscles of his back, and I instinctively lifted my hips to meet his thrusts.
“Oh, God,” Ethan muttered above me, the words escaping one at a time from behind compressed lips. His eyes were shut, and a faint sheen of sweat rested on his forehead. “It’s so good. Better than I’d dreamed about.”
“Better than your fist?” I whispered against his lips, wondering where I found the daring to say such a thing. It was common knowledge that men nowadays resorted to all sorts of ways to release their sexual needs. Some men chose to chemically castrate themselves knowing there’d be no female outlet for the desires. The likely candidates to win a Breeder never did.
“Beyond better,” he groaned.
“It’s better for me too.” I loved everything about it. The feel of him filling me, the scent of his exertions, the damp friction of our skin rubbing together, but most of all the knowledge that it was Ethan fucking me was the pinnacle.
His eyelids flashed open and he smiled at me. Our lips met in another deep kiss while his hips sped up their pace. With each thrust, he pushed against my swollen, sensitive clit, making me gasp.
We danced together for long minutes, the camera picking up every touch of skin, every bead of sweat between us. Despite the weight of the chair on which I perched, the legs of it scooted back and forth from our frenzied movements.
“I don’t want this to end,” he said in a hoarse voice, “but I’m close.”
“Me too,” I panted. If our first time together was this good, I could hardly wait for the next month together.
His hips started to pound hard against me, pushing me back against the chair. Speaking was out of the question. It was all I could do to remember to breathe. I was so close to my first manmade orgasm, I didn’t want to miss an instant of it.
For a quick second his eyes flashed open and met mine. I could see panic in his. He was close, but somehow knew I wasn’t quite there yet. He’d be shamed if he couldn’t hold out long enough to give me an orgasm.
Without much forethought, I threw my head back and started moaning as if my life depended on it. I begged to deities I didn’t believe in, cried for mercy and squealed, feigning the greatest pleasure of my life.
Ethan groaned and gave a thrust, keeping himself deep inside me. My inner muscles clenched around his penis. He was done. I knew the drill. He’d pull out. Slowly so the audience could see he’d finished inside me. I’d remain on the chair for around ten minutes with my legs up hoping gravity did its job and something would take root in my uterus.