“Excuse me… Sorry… Excuse me… We’re just…”
We eventually reached our seats and slumped into them. And not a moment too soon. We’d just managed a look that managed to say, “Thank god we made it,” and “It’s your fault we were late,” and “We’ll talk about this later,” when a young woman strode out from the wings and took centre stage. She was tiny and looked like she was on a university work placement — denim dungarees and a blue and white stripy shirt, purple Dr Martens, long dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. The clipboard, the headset and the wide beaming smile told us that she was one of the TV companies production team.
“Good evening ladies and gentlemen,” she beamed and waited as a hush fell over the auditorium. “Good evening and welcome to this recording of “Can You Take It All?” This is the second pilot episode of the show, we had a very successful show last night. Can I remind you that taking pictures, making videos and the use of mobile phones is strictly prohibited, and that you signed a non-disclosure agreement when you applied for tickets.”
Rebecca paused whilst taking her coat off and gave me a quizzical look which I could only shrug at in response. Coming to the recording of a TV show was something that she had wanted to do for a long time. I’d been trying to get tickets to one of her favourite panel shows every birthday and Christmas for the past 3 years without success, so I’d snapped up the tickets that had been offered to me in an email. I hadn’t looked too closely at the small print, just electronically signed the paperwork and pressed send.
The woman on stage carried on talking. “This is particularly important due to the adult nature of the show and the fact that this is a pilot episode. We’ll begin the filming in about 5 minutes, so enjoy the show! ”
“Oh god,” Rebecca mumbled with a smile. “What the fuck have you bought me to?”
I smiled nervously and leaned forward to kiss her briefly. “You look beautiful,” I told her as the noise of the room swelled up again, and she did. She looked absolutely gorgeous, from head to toe… but then again, I would say that wouldn’t I? I adored her then and I adore her now, but she looked particularly good that night, having dressed to impress the TV cameras. Chestnut hair braided and tied back in a pre-Raphaelite sort of way, lips painted a deep red (a DIY store paint chart would have called it Shy Arousal rather than Street Prostitute or Vampire Bride) so that they looked plump and alluring, and subtle eye shadow and mascara that accentuated her light blue eyes. Her clothes, too, were fantastic: a tight low-cut top which showed off her ample cleavage and a cardigan to frame them, a short skirt which was riding up to show more of her shapely legs and sheer black tights, and a pair of high heeled knee length boots. We’d travelled to London on the train and spent the day sightseeing, and I’d been aware of the admiring looks she’d been getting throughout the day, especially from the men behind her when we were travelling up the escalators on the underground.
She kissed me back and I rested my hand on her thigh, feeling the firmness through the soft nylon.
“It’s a very…. young audience,” she noted as we broke apart. I looked around and noticed that almost everyone was a similar age to us — early twenties up to mid-thirties; certainly no-one who could be mistaken for younger than that and only a smattering of people approaching middle age.
“Maybe we’ve been specifically chosen for our open-mindedness,” I joked. “So, we won’t be offended by the ‘adult nature’ of the show.” Rebecca rolled her eyes. She wasn’t a prude or anything, but certainly wasn’t as open minded as some of our friends. We’d watched porn together from time to time, but she wasn’t as into it as I was and certainly wouldn’t watch anything that could be called extreme — no bukkakes or water sports, no lesbians fisting each other. She enjoyed watching the odd gang bang scene where one woman was pleasured by a group of men, but drew the line at DP scenes and her favourites seemed to be amateur scenes where a loving couple had sex with each other. If the talk at the pub got sexual, she would make an excuse and go to powder her nose or get the next round of drinks in while I tried to subtly steer the conversation onto a new topic. Our own sex life was great, but I knew there was a line over which she would not cross, beyond which my fantasies would remain just that — fantasies.
At least, I thought I knew.
*****
A familiar voice came over the sound system: “Ladies and gentlemen, please take your seats as the show will commence in three minutes!”
“That’s the guy who does the voice over on that show on Channel 4,” Rebecca told me. “Maybe it’s not going to be too bad after all…!”
“One minute!” cried a voice from the side of the stage, and the lights in the auditorium dimmed. We were in a modern auditorium, and the stage was a raised oval in front of us that allowed cameras to move around the back on tracks as well as the normal manually operated ones at the front. The stage itself was now empty apart from four highchairs, the type you might get at bars. Two large screens hung down from the ceiling either side of the stag, angled so that the audience could see clearly.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” rolled voice over man’s voice. “Please welcome your host…. Charlie Jay!!”
A massive round of applause and cheering greeted the tall figure who strode on stage. Inwardly, I sighed with relief; Rebecca loved this man, a northern comic from the same town as her who had been ubiquitous on the TV a few years ago but whose star had fallen almost as quickly as had risen.
I turned to look at Rebecca, and she smiled at me — a big, happy beaming smile of excitement and relief.
“Welcome!” Charlie crowed as the applause began to wane. “Welcome to “Can You Take It All?”, the game show that explores couple’s sexuality and tries to push the boundaries of what they find acceptable.” I was aware of Rebecca looking at me again, with something bordering on amusement but veering more to distaste. “Tonight, our couples will compete against each other in a series of games…” (Games, I thought) “…to win a life changing jackpot of up to half a million pounds!” Another bout of whooping, cheering and clapping from the audience.
“So without further ado, lets meet our couples!”
On stage, Charlie stood and smiled until the two large screens on either side of the stage came to life. A twirling logo of the shows name grew rapidly and then was replaced by a video — a young couple walking in the park, the man pushing a pram in front of him. He was tall and had a mop of dark curly hair; she was pretty: olive eyes and high cheek bones, slim beneath her waxed jacket and jeans.
“Hi!” said a voice over. “My names Rosanna and this is my husband, Ted. We met in our first week at university and have been together ever since.”. On screen, the video showed a homage to Rosanna and Ted and their obviously lovely life. “We’ve been married for three years and have just welcomed our beautiful baby boy into our family! We’re both primary school teachers so we hope that we’ll win enough to let us resign before any of the parents get to see this!” Cue laughter. “We’re not particularly experimental in bed, but we hope to learn a trick or two from this!”
The logo swirled, the audience clapped, and another montage appeared, this time of a plump but pretty Asian woman and her husband in their early twenties who talked about breaking down stereotypes and then two more: a chirpy black girl and her smiling boyfriend and a middle-aged couple who bot sported a rash of bad tattoos and an Essex accent that screamed “chav”. Next to me, Rebecca crossed and uncrossed her legs nervously, uncomfortably.
*****
The video’s finished and the lights went up on Charlie again, standing centre stage. “Those are our contestants,” he grinned. “Now let’s meet them…. In the flesh!” One arm raised, he walked backwards to the left-hand side of the stage as four couples walked on from the right-hand side,
“Jesus!” Rebecca sighed, and I knew she was rolling her eyes.
The men were safely wrapped up in fluffy white dressing gowns, the type you get in posh hotels and spas, their partners…were not. The grinning little black girl was grinning slightly more nervously in a bright pink bra and panties set that showed off her large cleavage and the middle-aged skank was wearing skimpy white bra with white fishnet stockings that didn’t do anything to dispel her chavvy image; the plump Asian girl had squeezed herself into a white chiffon baby doll. My focus, however, was completely focused on Rosanna. Out of all of the women, she was by far the prettiest and was wearing the most revealing outfit: a sheer black bodystocking which clung to every inch of her body and through which you could clearly see her breasts and nipples. She sat on the first chair and crossed legs, her hands clasped on her knees, completely covered by the nylon apart from her face and hands… and a glimpse of skin between her legs that hinted at the bodystocking being crotchless.
My cock began to harden uncomfortably.
Charlie was in his stride now, a man at the top of his game. He strode back across the stage, clutching a microphone in his hand. It was hard not to like the man.
“Well, hello Rosanna!” he announced as he reached the end of the line. “You’re looking… perky today!!”
Rosanna blushed, grinned, and looked at the ceiling as the audience tittered and clapped. “Hi Charlie!” she answered as the laughter died.
“So, a little birdy tells me that your still breast feeding…” A smattering of applause from the audience.
“That’s right Charlie,” she smiled. “We all know breast is best!” Another peel of laughter.
“And your breasts are certainly some of the best I’ve seen!” More applause. “So, does that mean there might be a little… leakage at some point?”
Releasing the grip on her knees, she reached up and cupped her breasts, squeezing them gently. The screens either side of the stage which, up to now, have been showing a wide screen shot of all four couples, suddenly switches to a close up of Rosanna’s tits “I did express just before we came on, but you never know your luck!”
“Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for Rosanna and Ted!” And, barely acknowledging her husband, Charlie moved on to the chubby Asian girl.
Rebecca leaned over to whisper in my ear. “I bet you fancy her,” she muttered. I was caught between confusion and denial and ended up just mouthing “What?” at my wife and trying to look both confused and deeply hurt at the same time. What I really didn’t want to admit was that she was completely right; I had barely registered anything about the other three women because I was focused almost solely on the young mum in nylon.
“I bet you fancy her!” she replied. “She’s just you type.”
“What do you mean ‘my type’?” I asked. “I don’t’ have a type! You’re my type!”
“So what’s that then?” she asked, glancing my erection which was clearly visible through my jeans, smirking to herself. At least she’s smiling I thought to myself…
*****
“Round One,” announced Charlie happily, drawing our attention back to what was happening on stage, “Is called…Taking the Piss!”
Rebecca groaned next to me. My sense of optimism was short lived.
“Each couple,” Charlie continued, “Will be given a bowl for them both to fill. The couple with the least amount of wee in their bowl will be eliminated.” A pantomime boo from the audience. Out of sight of the cameras, the young woman from earlier was now scurrying across the front of the stage to deposit a large, clear glass bowl in front of each couple. I watched as Rosanna placed both hands over her mouth and nose in a way that suggested either shock, surprise, or a desire to hide what she was thinking from everyone by hiding her face. “But we will add £10 to the prize fund for each millilitre of urine collected!” This time, cheers resonate around the auditorium. “Ladies — you’ll go first!”
Nervously, all four women slipped off their bar stools and walked towards the bowls. I was torn between watching the soft flesh of the Asian girl as she walked, breasts wobbling slightly beneath the thin material, and watching Rosanna. Rosanna won. As she slipped off the stool, we were given a clear view of her pubic hair, a thick triangle of mousey brown pubes framed by the hem of the crotchless opening in her bodystocking. The more I saw of her, the more gorgeous I realised she was. As well as being fantastically pretty, she had perfect breasts, a C-cup at most, and long shapely legs. Everything about her was perfectly proportioned, and beautifully showcased by her choice of lingerie.
“Put your tongue away,” Rebecca snapped.
There was a slight pause onstage, the smooth running of the show stalling slightly. All four women were stood just behind there bowls looking around as if waiting for an instruction. Rosanna crossed her arms, lacing her hands on her shoulders and crossed her ankles, clamping her thighs together as if she was belatedly trying to hide her breasts and pussy from view; the chav slag in fishnets assumed an almost comically opposite stance — hands on hips and everything on display.
“We’ll edit this bit out!” Charlie announced, before listening attentively to his earpiece. The girl with the clipboard was back on stage, talking to the four couples. She turned to Charlie and gave him the same instructions; he nodded and gave her the thumbs up.
“Ladies” he announced again as the show got back on the road, “You’ll go first!”
Simultaneously, all four women spread their legs and crouched over the bowls. The audience erupted once again, cheering and clapping; somewhere to our left a small group started a chant of “Piss! Piss! Piss!” which was thankfully short lived. On the big screens there was a close-up view of the chav pulling her knickers to one side and exposing a pair of large, pierced labia which she then spread with the fingers of her other hand. Whoever was in charge of which camera shots we saw was obviously as infatuated with Rosanna as I was, we were given a gloriously long view of her balancing on her toes, her pussy slightly parted above the bowl. It was still focused on her as her it convulsed and a stream of clear bright piss erupted, cascading into the bowl. It went on for seconds, splashing off the glass beneath her.
I tore my eyes from the screens and looked along the line in front of me. Skanky chav was also filling her bowl with a stream of yellow while the cute black girl was frantically rubbing at her pussy and spreading her labia wide. Eventually, a few droplets dropped out followed by a half-hearted dribble that would have barely filled a teacup never mind the huge bowl beneath her. Plump Asian was the last to start but managed, eventually to release a steady stream.
“This is so gross,” Rebecca muttered, putting her hand over her mouth and nose.
Skanky chav gave her pussy a shake with her fingers and stood up, a satisfied smile on her face: her bowl was not as full a Rosanna’s but definitely had more than the other two. The cute black girl looked like she was about to burst into tears as she looked down at her paltry offering which barely covered the bottom of the bowl.
Charlie walked back on stage and made a bee line for Rosanna, who was still crouching above her bowl even though she had stopped pissing. “Rosanna!!” he bellowed, “You really needed a pee didn’t you!” More laughter, and a shy grin from the woman herself. “You and Ted are in pole position, Clara and Darrell,” – the camera cuts to the less than cheerful looking black girl (whose name I have only just registered) as her eyes fill with tears — “You’ve got a lot of ground to make up, but anything I possible! Gentlemen… let’s see what you’ve got!”
I was expecting the couples to simply swap places and the men to take aim at the bowls on the floor, but the director obviously had other ideas. All four women knelt down and picked the bowl up (gingerly in Rosanna’s case, it was so full) and held it in front of their faces, level with their chins, looking up at their partner. The crowd cheered as the four men strode from the back of the stage and stood in front of them before undoing the dressing gown ties and letting the gowns open.
I heard Rebecca gasp beside me, and she wasn’t the only one. To be frank, Darrell was a walking racial stereotype. Even semi-erect, his cock was massive. It had both length and girth and put everyone else on the stage to shame. Ted was no minnow, and I guessed he had a good 7″ that would probably make Rosanna very happy, but it was nothing compared to the monster next to him. And then there was the Plump Asian Boyfriend of the plump Asian girl who was sporting what can only be described as a raging erection that was sticking out at a 45o angle.
Which is where everything began to go wrong.
While the limp, the flaccid and the semi-erect had no problem aiming their streams into the bowls held by their loved ones, Plump Asian boyfriend suffered the way any man who has needed a wee during sex has suffered: a cock too hard to let the piss flow, a desperate attempt to think of something else so that the erection will subside enough to let the stream flow, and an inability to aim the damn thing when it eventually does. I could see the car crash about to happen, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
Plump Asian boyfriend closed his eyes and tried to think of something very, very boring like a Welsh male voice choir. In doing so, he forgot to take aim. The stream of piss that eventually erupted from his cock like water from ahigh pressure fire hose caught his young bride-to-be squarely in the face. With a shriek, she screwed her eyes shut and turned her head, with the result that, momentarily, neither of the stupid twats could see what the fuck was happening. At the same time, she tried to put her hands up to stop the torrent, completely forgetting in her panic that the bowl she was holding was full of her own urine: it slipped from her grasp and emptied over her chest and into her lap. The shriek made Plump Asian Boyfriend open his eyes but I’m fairly sure the sight that greeted him sent him into some sort of mortified shock, because instead of diverting the stream away from the love of his life he continued to aim at the side of her head. The stream of piss plastered her hair to her face before running down her body. The white baby doll was now semi-transparent and clinging to her large breasts, her dark nipples clearly visible through the soaked material.
Like most car crashes, it seemed to go on for far longer than it probably did in reality and to the exclusion of everything else that was going on. Eventually, Plump Asian Boyfriend’s bladder emptied with a trickle onto the stage. I looked at the other contestants. Ted had managed to fill Rosanna’s bowl nearly to the brim. Being right next to the plump Asian’s, he’d had the perfect view of her accidental golden shower and had obviously liked what he saw — his cock was definitely harder, longer and thicker than at the start of the round. Skanky Chav was grinning mischievously and leaned forward to give the tip of her man’s cock a little lick. The biggest smile was on the cute black girl’s face as she realised that she had been saved from elimination by the catastrophe next to her.
“Prisha! Arjun!” Charlie asked above the noise of the crowd as he walked back on to the stage and over to the Asian couple. “What happened?” He held his hand out to the kneeling woman and Prisha took it, standing gingerly. Her hair was plastered to her face and mascara was smeared over one cheek where it had been washed away by the piss. Her tits wobbled as she stood up, literally dripping wet.
Arjun stood speechless, mouth opening and closing soundlessly, looking at his partner. A small sob came from Prisha and her shoulders began to heave. Charlie, ever the consummate professional, knew when to move on.
“Ladies and gentlemen — let’s hear it for Prisha and Arjun!”
The cute brunette in the dungarees reappeared with a large test tube which she plonked down in front of Charlie before hurriedly ushering the losing pair off stage, the young woman now obviously sobbing uncontrollably.
*****
I became aware of Rebecca sitting next to me for the first time in minutes. Prude or not, I knew that she would have found the last few minutes excruciating. I thought she’d be glaring at me when I turned to her, but she was looking past me, further down the row of seats. A small nod and a little raise of her eyebrows told me that I should surreptitiously turn around and look too. Because of our rushed entrance, I’d not really paid any attention to who we were sat with apart from the fact that the person next to me was a tall young man and next to him was what I assumed to be his pretty blonde girlfriend. A quick glance to my left confirmed my assumption was correct or that they had become more than friends over the intervening 20 minutes; whilst her smiling face was still turned towards the stage her right hand was resting beneath a coat in his lap. Well, not exactly resting: there was a rhythmic motion beneath the coat which explained why her boyfriend was also smiling.
“Shall we go?” I asked, fully expecting her to ne out of her seat before I finished asking the question.
“What? And miss out on all the fun?” she replied in a voice that can only be described as dripping with sarcasm, a fact backed up by the wide-eyed look of surprise she adopted. Her face relaxed into an unamused glare, “It’ll be hard to leave now,” she said with a pointed glance beyond me. “Let’s wait until the interval and sneak away then.”
Back onstage, we’d missed the remain three couples emptying their bowls into the giant test tube.
“So altogether you managed to collect 1727 ml of wee! That’s £17,270 in the prize fund!”
The audience erupted once more into cheers and applause and wild whooping.
Rebecca sneered slightly. “I’m still not sure that’s enough money to compensate for the humiliation of pissing in a bowl in front of hundreds of people.”
*****
There was a gap in the proceedings while the pretty girl in the dungarees mopped up spilt piss from the stage. The couple next to me kissed each other and she removed her hand from under the coat — she reached up to hold his face and caress his hair, so I assumed that he hadn’t cum on her hand yet. On stage, Ted wrapped his dressing coat around Rosanna, and they hugged each other, with the unfortunate side effect that I couldn’t stare at her body anymore. The black couple seemed to just stand and chat while the middle-aged skanky chav gently stroked her husband’s cock and slipped a hand inside her own knickers. I put an arm around Rebecca and pulled her to me, a small part of me hoping that she would offer to stroke my cock like the pretty blonde two seats down had been doing. I rested my hand just above her breast.
*****
“Round Two is called Whose Cock Is It Anyway!” A couple of nervous glances between Ted and Anna. “Our three remaining female contestants will be blindfolded and have their hands cuffed behind their backs! Each of our male contestants will place their penises into each girl’s mouth in turn for one minute. All our women have to do is identify whose cock they have sucked in the right order! Each correctly identified cock earns £5,000 for the prize fund!”
As everyone clapped and cheered, the same thought passed through all our minds, and through Anna’s as she glanced nervously at Darrell’s monster cock — surely they’d know which was his and which was the smallest of the other two?
Cue Charlie, the all-knowing god of TV game shows.
“But to make things a little harder we’ve asked some friends to come and join us! Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome on stage top UK adult entertainer Roger Cox and former Premiership footballer James Smith!”
Two more men walked on stage waving at the crowd, both dressed in the ubiquitous white dressing gowns. I’ll be honest — Roger Cox didn’t look up to much (I mean, I’d watched his stuff 20 years ago when the internet was first around) but the footballer (I researched him later: he made 3 appearances for Blackpool in the 2010-11 season) was a different kettle of fish — tall and muscular and athletic despite being past the peak of his career.
“Our guests are going to keep their dressing gowns closed until after the girls are blindfolded so they have no way of knowing what they’re dealing with until they get the bit between their teeth so to speak.” Cue laughter, and a little introductory banter between Charlie and the guests. I still had my arm around Rebecca, and had felt her tense when Round Two was being announced. Now I felt her squirm in her seat, uncross her legs and lean forward. I nervously glanced at her expecting to see new levels of disgust etched onto her face, but was surprised to see, despite her hands covering her mouth again, her eyes wide open and staring at the stage.
On stage, the banter ended, and the three women knelt down (on cushions, I was pleased to see; I was getting worried about their knees…) before they were blindfolded and hands cuffed behind their backs by their husbands. Again, Rebecca squirmed next to me.
“Are you ok?” I asked.
“Hmm-mm,” was the only reply I got.
At the back of the stage, all five men had now opened their dressing gowns and were stroking themselves to full erection while Charlie made some quip. Roger was fairly large, as befits a porn star, although still not as big as Darrell’s big black cock, whilst James the footballer had a very nice 6″ sprouting from his fist and a massive pair of balls hanging beneath it. I noticed that for the majority of the men, Anna was their favoured viewing material as they attempted to get hard. I couldn’t blame them. After a brief discussion, three of the men walked forward and stood in front of the kneeling women: Roger in front of cute Clara, ex-footballer James in front of Skanky Chav and Darrel and his massive wang in front of Anna.
When everyone was ready, Charlie took centre stage, announced cheerily “Ladies and gentlemen let’s play…. Whose Cock Is It Anyway!” and blew an air-horn. Obviously, the girls had been forewarned because they immediately opened their mouths ready to accept the cock in front of them. I watched as Anna’s mouth was stretched by Darrel’s large head entered it, then entered it some more. He withdrew slightly before thrusting in again; Anna shifted position slightly to accommodate more of the monster as he pushed it in again.
The screens showed a clock counting down from 60 seconds and flicked from one slobber covered cock to another, one face-fucked female to another. I think the clock had got down to about 23 seconds when Rebecca sat forward, staring intently at the stage. She put her hands together, palm to palm but pointing down, and clamped them between her thighs.
“Anna?” I asked, completely bemused. I looked at her, then back at the stage, then back at her. Charlie sounded the air horn again and the three men stepped back from the women. Darrel, bless him, used his dressing gown to wipe Anna’s spit and drool from his cock before walking over to his wife and Ted moved in front of Skanky Chav. Roger walked over to Anna and stood in front of her, hard cock glistening and wet with slobber. The air-horn sounded again and once more cocks were thrust into waiting mouths.
Rebecca whimpered. Realisation didn’t dawn, it hit me in the face.
“You like this?” I asked, incredulous.
She managed to nod without taking her eyed off the stage.
I looked back at the stage, at the three women, bound and blindfolded, having their faces fucked by an unknown man, by a complete stranger in some cases. I smiled.
“Is this turning you on?”
She dragged her eyes away and looked at me with a look that was a mixture of embarrassment, apology and downright naughtiness and gave a little nod. “Yes,” she whispered, barely audible above the noise of the audience. To be honest, I was more than a little surprised. She leant in so that she was closer to me, and hesitantly whispered again. “I… It’s… I’ve always wanted to….”
I looked back at the stage, then back at her. “Have you thought about doing that? Is this your fantasy?”
She nodded, shyly.
I had always asked Rebecca about her fantasies and she had always maintained that she had none, that fantasies were for men who watched porn and wanked off in the shower. I had tried to persuade her that all of those things were aspects of a healthy sex life and that we should not be ashamed of our desires; that fantasies did not have to become reality, that they could remain fantasies. I’d even shared a couple of my own fantasies as examples – I might, for example, wank myself off in the shower imagining having sex with her while people watched but I’d never actually ask her to do it for real! All to no avail. But here she was, obviously excited by something I would never have expected her to have even thought of.
The air-horn blasted again and there was movement on the stage, but I didn’t pay it any attention. I was too busy grinning from ear to ear. “Tell me about it.” I smirked.
She leant in so close her breath tickled my ear and inhaled deeply.
“I think about being tied up and blindfolded and let men put their cocks in my mouth,” she breathed, and sat back. She smiled demurely back at me, and I could see that her hands had moved even further up her skirt, between her legs.
“Men you know?” I asked, “Or strangers?”
“Both…” she admitted.
“Do you make them cum?”
She nodded.
“In your mouth?” She visibly shuddered with pleasure at the thought.
“Sometimes…”
“Sometimes?”
She leaned in again. “Sometimes they cum on my face!” she whispered. I sat and thought about her f=refusal to watch any of the bukkake porn I liked, completely bewildered.
Another blast of the air horn brought our attention back to the stage.
The front of Anna’s bodystocking was now drenched in drool as she gave a sloppy blow job to her husband; large ropes of spit hung from her chin. Skanky Chav was doing her best to accommodate Darrel’s tool in its entirety while her husband was obviously enjoying watching his member disappearing into Clara’s mouth.
I looked back at Rebecca, who was once again transfixed by the show. Her hands were now clamped so far up her thighs that the reinforced tops of her tights were clearly visible — it was a miracle she wasn’t exposing the white knickers I knew she was wearing. Tentatively, I reached over and placed my hands on her thigh and gave her leg a squeeze. Her legs parted slightly and she moved her hands towards her knees, enough for me to slip my hand between her thighs where hers had just been. It may have been my imagination, but it definitely felt hot and clammy down there. She slid forward slightly in her seat and pressed her gusset against my hand before looking up and kissing me, her tongue sliding into my mouth.
“Who?” I asked when our lips parted. “Who do you think about sucking off?” At the same time, I moved my hand so that my fingers were able to apply pressure to her pussy through her tights and knickers, rubbing gently.
“Oh shit,” she muttered, parting her legs even further. As the hooter sounded again and the boys rotated for one last round of cock sucking, I sat and imagined Rebecca servicing half a dozen rock hard cocks. I began to rub harder and she let out a low moan of pleasure.
*****
The final round of Whose Cock Is It Anyway started. Roger and Darrel had fulfilled their roles and been sucked off by all three women and went to stand at the back of the stage nursing their erections. James the ex-footballer stood in front of Anna, Ted in front of Clara and the two chavs were paired up with each other. The large screens were focusing on Ted who seemed to be in some discomfort: he was sweating and panting, looking unsure whether he wanted to grab his cock and tug at it or leave it alone. It was clear to everyone that he was approaching the point of no return. Well clear to everyone apart from the blindfolded woman kneeling in front of him. Clara opened her mouth and Ted place his throbbing penis between her lips. I’m sure he tried to keep still but Clara wanted to get an idea of how big his cock was and began to bob her head up and down his shaft, taking more and more into her throat. He closed his eyes, put his hands behind his head and desperately tried to avoid the inevitable.
And he so nearly made it.
The clock was showing 8 seconds left when his cock twitched in her mouth and the fist spurt of cum erupted. Clara obviously hadn’t realised how close he was and wasn’t prepared: she choked, gagged and pulled her head back. Ted kept cumming, huge wads of spunk landing on the little black girl, the white jizz glistening on her black skin. At the back of the stage, Darrel looked like he was going to lose it completely and thump the man who had just cum in his girlfriend’s mouth. Clara, meanwhile was still coughing and gagging. Ted’s cock released a final dribble of cum and he finally opened his eyes and looked at the mess he had created.
The audience loved it, clapping and cheering, and so did Rebecca. She clamped her thighs onto my hand, bit onto her own knuckle and whimpered slightly as she watched the woman on stage fulfil her fantasy.
The hooter blasted and Charlie hurried on stage between a livid looking Darrel and an embarrassed looking Ted.
“Congratulations Clara!” he announced brightly. “You’ve won our… £1000 cumshot bonus!” Behind the smile and the bravado, there was a nervousness we hadn’t seen before. “That’s £1000 just for you!” he carried on, “and not put into the prize fund!”
Darrel looked slightly placated while Clara eventually got her coughing under control. The big screen showed a close up of her face as she removed the blindfold: eyes watering, mascara smeared and a string of drool and cum hanging from her chin.
“All our contestants need to do now,” Charlie continued, glancing behind him as the handcuffs were removed, “Is to write down whose cock they sucked in which order. Remember – each correctly identified cock earns £5,000 for the prize fund! That’s a maximum of £75,000!!!”
I turned back to Rebecca while the women on stage wracked their brains trying to guess (surely it would only be a guess?) whose cock they had sucked on first, and grinned at her. “Would you do that for seventy five grand?” I asked. “Or would you do it for nothing?”
“Depends…” she replied. “I still don’t think it’s enough to be broadcast on TV.”
I took hold of her face and kissed her again. “So who do you think of when you imagine sucking random men off?” I asked again.
“Mostly… mostly they’re just strangers…” she started, obviously embarrassed. “I, you know, never see their faces. They just sort of… use me… and the leave…”
“Mostly?” I persevered.
“Ok. Sometimes I think of some of the guys at work…. And sometimes of think of…. You and your rugby mates.”
For a second I was speechless, and then Charlie’s booming voice stopped any further questioning.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the results — are — in!” he announced. “Anna, you managed to correctly identify… all five cocks! Congratulations! You’ve put £25000 into the prize fund and you’re through to the next round!” Bless, her, she looked delighted, grinning up at her husband. “Clara and Sharon… one of you correctly guessed the identity of three men while the other one could only identify one. Between you, you have put another £20,000 into the prize fund but the person going through to the next round is… Clara!”
After what had just happened to her, it was a popular result.
“Sharon!” Charlie continued, putting his arm around her. “Sharon! What happened? You only got one cock right — and it wasn’t even your husbands!”
*****
“Now, Round Three is called Black Toy, Black Boy! ”
At the time, I didn’t really follow the rules as Charlie explained them. Even as I sat there, I thought that if you have to spend this much time explaining the rules, it’s a sign that something is wrong with game. No one wants to play a board game when someone spends two hours reading the instructions out, and that’s sort of what this felt like. Having watched what followed, I think he said:
- Both of the women would kneel on sort of massage table and have increasingly large butt plugs shoved up their arseholes.
- The bigger the butt plug, the more money they would win.
- To stop their boyfriends cheating somehow, the butt plug insertion would be performed by one of two well-endowed black twins, Eddie and Isiah Johnson.
- Once all the butt plugs had been fully inserted, the twins would then sodomise their given contestant — hence the need for identical twins.
- Both women had a safe word they could say to stop their buggery, and their husbands (who would be wearing VR headsets through which they would only be able to see and hear their own partners) could also stop proceedings by pressing a large red button.
- The winner, who would progress to the final round, was the woman who took the largest black toy or who was fucked the longest by one of the large black boys.
And yes, the black boys were large. Even semi-erect, they still bigger than anything we’d seen on stage so far — longer and thicker. I watched as Anna’s eyes widened in disbelief at the thought of one of those monsters forcing itself inside her (because it would be forced — there was no way anyone who wasn’t a seasoned porn star could easily accommodate one of those beasts). She looked across at her husband, genuinely worried.
“Now, we know that neither Anna or Clara listed anal as being in their top five sexual preferences. If, at any point you do not wish to continue, ladies, all you have to do is say the safe word you gave us before we began recording and Eddie and Isiah will stop what they are doing — no matter how much fun they’re having!
The cameras whirled round to their new positions as Anna and Clara knelt on the massage tables. On the screens, we could see the cameras focusing on the rear views, their bums sticking up in the air, one screen showing Anna’s pale arse surrounded by sheer black nylon and the other with Clara’s bubble butt still encased in silky pink knickers. I gazed up as one side zoomed in on Anna’s intimate area — her pussy was clearly wet, her asshole a tiny brown star above it. A second frame appeared on the screens, showing both girl’s apprehensive faces in close up… and then the fun began.
Clara’s knickers were quickly pulled down exposing her cunt and then a large dollop of lube was deposited on her and Anna’s assholes. Two fingers appeared on screen and began to rub the lube into the girls’ arses, and we saw them wince as a finger was inserted — right up to the knuckle in Anna’s case. It quickly became clear who was going to win this round — Clara winced and grimaced with every thrust whilst Anna began to gasp with open-mouthed pleasure, moving her body to accommodate first two then three fingers. When the first butt plug was introduced, we could see her arsehole parting to accommodate it whilst she bit her lip and arched her back; Clara gave a yelp of pain as her twin struggled to force it inside her.
Next to me, Rebecca’s knees spread. I was amazed how turned on she was getting, how brazen she was being in her excitement. My hand was now fully over her vagina, rubbing it through her clothing– never in my wildest dreams had I ever thought she would let me do this surrounded by hundreds of people. My cock was aching in my trousers. I couldn’t remember being this hard and this constrained. Did I dare get it out? I desperately wanted to feel Rebecca’s hand around my shaft wanking it like the couple next to us, or even better to feel her mouth around its head, but I just didn’t know how she would respond. How far could I go? Had she abandoned herself completely or were there still limits she would not allow? She moaned as I rubbed her pussy, watching the two women on stage have increasingly larger toys inserted into their anuses, and I decided to take a chance, to see how far I could go. Removing my hand from between her legs, I placed it on her stomach before sliding it beneath the waistband of her skirt and inside her knickers. My fingers found her pussy instantly — it was wet and open. I thought that she would react badly, that she would clamp her legs shut or grab my hand and remove it, but she did neither — if anything, she moaned louder and spread her knees further. I easily slid the first finger in and quickly let another spread her labia before plunging further in.
On stage, Clara was getting near her limits. Her eyes were scrunched up and it was clear that she was in a great deal of pain, no matter how much lube was applied to the sex toy, no matter how much the twin twisted and turned it in an effort to get it to slide in. Every thrust was met by an anguished cry and tears were beginning to stream down her face. I like watching the odd painal video on the internet as much as the next man, but this was going too far. There was no way she was going to be able to take the third and largest toy, never mind one of the huge dicks tat was waiting for her. The only question was who was going to give up on the £50,000 first — Clara or her loving husband?
On the other screen, Anna’s anus was dilating even more as the third, largest butt-plug was gradually slipped into her. It widened to accommodate the largest part of the sex toy and then closed around the handle. Whichever twin was in charge pulled it out again, and then slid it back in again. You could tell by the look on her face that she was getting into what was happening to her — her eyes were closed with concentration and her mouth open as she panted desperately. There was a movement on screen and her fingertips appeared between her legs, playing with her pussy and clitoris. I slowed the movements of my hand in Rebecca’s knickers to match Anna’s.
“Oh god, yes…” Rebecca moaned. “Yes…. yes… yes… yes!” I looked around, hoping that nobody had heard her nut needn’t have worried — everyone was either glued to what was happening on stage or were fully involved in their own carnal pursuits. One brief look took in at least 3 erections and a couple of bobbing female heads. The guy next to me grunted, and I had a feeling he wouldn’t be wearing his coat on the journey home.
Anna’s twin had obviously had enough of fucking her with the toys he had been given and wanted a piece of the action. He pulled the toy out, leaving her asshole gaping and open. After giving his cock one last wank to spread a generous amount of lube over it and make sure it was as hard as possible, he straddled her and lined its head up with her hole. There were a few seconds of nudging and rubbing before the massive dick slid inside her. Anna moaned loudly, a moan of animalistic lust, and arched her back. That first thrust had only admitted the throbbing head of the penis, and the moans continued as he began to slowly fuck her arse, easing slightly more inside her with every thrust.
“Oh Christ!” she yelled as he plunged fully into her for the first time. “YES!” On screen, her eyes were rolling back in her head with pleasure while her lips continued to move.
What she was saying was instantly drowned out. Another scream of pain from Clara was quickly followed by a loud klaxon sound as Darrel pushed his big red button, unable to watch his beloved in pain anymore. The plug was removed immediately and Clara collapsed into the foetal position, sobbing. Charlie and Darrel, having ripped off the VR headset and tossing I to the floor, both rushed over to comfort her. I think everyone was looking at her, and a polite round of applause broke out as she finally sat up, wiping her eyes with the back of her hands.
What we didn’t realise was that twin two was having the time of his life fucking Anna’s tight arse and hadn’t stopped — she was still busy rubbing her cunt and moaning while his massive cock thrust in and out of her. Charlie looked slightly bemused and unsure what to do next. Surely they had heard the klaxon? Surely they knew she had won, that they could stop?
There was a whisper in Charlie’s ear, and then someone on the production team had the bright idea to turn the sound on Anna’s mic up so we could all hear the muttering, gasping words that had been too faint before, that presumably only the lucky bastard fucking her could hear. A stream of obscenity filled the auditorium as we heard her begging to be fucked, oblivious to what was happening around her.
“Fuck my arse,” she mumbled. “Fuck my arse…. Fuck yes…. I’m going to cum… Don’t stop…. Fuck me… I’m gonna cum…. Oh god…. Oh god…. I’m gonna cum…. Cum inside me…. Fuck me….”
I could see Anna’s fingers, almost a blur between her legs, and shifted position to find Rebecca’s clit again and matched her pace.
“I’m gonna cum,” Anna said aloud, her voice growing louder again “Shit I’m gonna cum! Cum inside me! Please cum inside me! Please…. FUUUCCCKKK!’
And with that, three things happened at once. Anna’s orgasm ripped through her, making her back arch and every muscle in her body tense up. This was too much for the big black twin embedded in her anus who grunted as he fulfilled her wish and released his junk deep in her bowels. At almost the same time, Rebecca’s thighs clamped shut on my hand, she flung her head back and her body quivered as her own orgasm hit her.
I spared a glance at Ted, still wearing his VR headset. His mouth was hanging open and his dick was hanging limp in his hand, a second pool of jizz sprayed on the floor near his feet.
I turned to my girlfriend, taking my hand out of her clothing. She grabbed my wrist and, to my surprise, licked her grool off my fingers before kissing me so that I could taste her mouth and her pussy at the same time.
When I looked back at the stage, Anna had collapsed, still shuddering, on the massage bench with her legs splayed and a large (but softening) black cock still wedged firmly up her shitter. I watched a film once where a man who made cartoons was given a porn film make the soundtrack for — there should have been a sound effect for when he withdrew from her. A few seconds later, a stream of cum flooded from her used and abused anus onto the bench, some of it dripping onto her body stocking.
I remembered Charlie’s words from earlier in the evening: “the game show that explores couple’s sexuality and tries to push the boundaries of what they find acceptable”. Those boundaries had well and truly been pushed — Anna’s had discovered a love of having a large cock up her arse, Ted had discovered his cuckold side, and Rebecca had just overcome about a hundred inhibitions in 30 minutes.
*****
There was a small break before the final round. Clara and Darrel were escorted off stage, the two massage tables were removed (I had hoped that Anna would turn into a total slut and lick the cum that had dripped from her bum hole off the leather, but she’d not plumbed those depths yet — at least not for free) and a large “Wheel of Fortune” type spinning wheel had been bought on stage.
Anna looked… fucked, to be honest! The pretty young mum who had been perched on a stool at the beginning of the show had been replaced by dishevelled whore. Her makeup was smeared and smudged, her hair a mess; the front of her bodystocking was still wet from the throat-fucking she had endured and there was cum stains on the legs and around the pussy. She looked like she could barely stand, and only just managed to stagger over to her husband who gave her a large kiss and gave her tits a hard squeeze.
I couldn’t remember a time when my cock had been so hard without me taking it out and wanking it furiously, but I had no idea how Rebecca would react, despite her newfound liberalness.
“Anna,” Charlie announced solemnly. “Ted. You have reached the final round of “Can You Take It All?”. You have banked…. a total of….. £179,540!!!”
I had no idea how the total had reached that high, but I must admit I was relieved it had — I would have hated for them to be degraded for anything less. Like everyone else, I clapped and whooped and generally showed my approval, admiration and, let’s face it, amazement. Next to me, Rebecca was coming back to her senses and tidying herself up before clapping politely. Her face was flushed with excitement and post-orgasmic exhilaration.
“To choose what you will be doing in the final round, you will spin the wheel. Whatever game the wheel lands on, you will have to complete to win the jackpot. Complete it, and we’ll double the amount in the jackpot fund to £359,080. Fail, and you’ll leave… with…. nothing.” Big gasp here. “Do you understand?”
Both of them nodded, but to be honest they were so punch drunk by what had happened they would have agreed to anything. I tensed as Rebecca’s had rested on my crotch, squeezing my erection gently through my jeans.
“Tonight, Anna, you will be playing one of these four games: Fist of Fun… Cumartini…. Take 10… or Hole in the Dyke. Anything grab our fancy?”
“I… I’m not sure.” She muttered. “I don’t like the taste of cum and I’ve never been with another woman… Hole in the Dyke maybe?”
“Ted?”
Yeah… Hole in the Dyke….”
“Anna — Spin that wheel!”
I watched Anna’s tits move as she reached up and grabbed one of the pegs sticking out of the wheel and gave it an almighty heave. Ted stood behind her, hands on her hips, and they both watched as the wheel spin, the pegs hitting a clacker at the top so that we could hear the decreasing speed as well as see it. Red, blue, orange, green sped by over and over until the wheel slowed to one click every second then one every couple of seconds until it eventually stopped, and Charlie shouted:
“It’s…. Cumartini!! Anna, we’re going to ask as many members of the audience as possible to come on stage (no pun intended) and cum into this martini glass. Now, this glass holds 300ml and According to the World Health Organization (WHO), the average semen volume for a man is 3.7 ml, which means we’d need 81 men to fill it. Once it’s full – or as full as it’s going to get — we’re going to ask you to swallow the contents.”
The look on Anna’s face was a picture — disgusted resignation sprang to mind.
“If you drink all the cum in the class, you’ll walk away with a life changing ££360,000. Fail, and you’ll walk away with nothing.”
There was a pause as somebody obviously shouted “Cut” in Charlie’s ear, his smile faded as he turned to see Anna put her head in her hands and press her face into her husband’s chest. The pretty girl in the dungarees re-appeared.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” she announced. “We need your help!”
*****
I turned and looked at Rebecca.
“Do you want to?” she asked.
“What?”
“Cum in the glass.” Rebecca paused and bit her lip. “I want you to.”
“You want me to cum in a martini glass,” I asked in amazement, “And watch as she drinks it?”
Rebecca nodded. “Yes,” she whispered. “Do you want to?” she repeated.
My cock was straining in my jeans now. I hadn’t touched it in hours, but I was so aroused I knew I wouldn’t last long when I eventually got it out.
“I’d rather cum on your face,” I said, truthfully. And it was true — Rebecca was beautiful, and I loved her and at that precise moment I could think of nothing more than covering her face in what I knew was going to be an immense load. Fuck, in this mood she may even let me take a photo of her cum covered face, or even video it on my phone! Or maybe, having released this genie from the bottle, she may be up for that anyway.
She leaned closer and squeezed my cock again.
“I want to wank you as you do it.”
That was it — I was out of my seat like a shot.
*****
By the time we got down to the stage side, there was already quite a queue. Of men. With their cocks out. In fact, Rebecca was the only woman.
Anna was kneeling again, this time holding a martini glass in front of her instead of a bowl full of piss. It didn’t take long for the first man to take a step towards her, furiously wank his cock as he neared his climax. She looked up at him and held the glass towards him, obviously aware of the problems aiming an ejaculating cock, and watched with wide eyed fascination as, with a grunt, he pumped three or four jets of spunk into it. It was a lucky start though: another man was already approaching from the other side. Anna’s efforts to make sure all the first load were caught in the glass simply made the second man’s job more difficult. His first jet missed the glass completely and landed on her boob, the second on her leg after both of them tried to readjust their aim and the target, and then the last two dribbles in the glass itself.
And that’s how it continued as we edged nearer, played out on the big screens and in the flesh in increasing close up. To be fair, most of the men tried to aim for the glass: I think there was only one or two who seemed to be aiming for Anna’s face or hair or tits. It’s also true to say that quite a lot of the first spurts of jism missed their target, overshooting and landing mostly on her body. Mostly. One particularly enthusiastic patron overshot the glass and his her squarely in the eye, at which point she nearly dropped the glass and spilt everything. God knows what would have happened then: make her Lick it up off the floor? Whenever there was a slight break in proceedings, the pretty girl in the dungarees would step forward and scoop up any cum that was on her face and drip it into the glass, which was getting full of a creamy mass of jizz.
With every orgasm, Anna looked more disgusted yet more resigned to what was going on. There was a grimace on her face and her nose wrinkled as she tried to hold the glass as far awa from her as possible. By the time we were near the front of the queue, the smell was pungent, the glass was nearly overflowing, and I was worried I’d missed my chance. The man in front grunted and came and then it was our turn. I quickly unbuttoned my jeans and finally release my straining cock from its constraints. Rebecca stood behind me, reached around to grab it and began wanking me furiously, pulling my foreskin back. I looked down at the woman I had been lusting after all evening, semi-naked and covered in a variety of bodily fluids. She looked back at me, her eyes filled with shame and regret. I almost felt bad about cumming but was too far gone. I grabbed my cock and, pointing it as close as I could at the martini glass, unleashed a torrent of jizz like never before. Most hit its target, some hit Anna’s hand and some splashed into the puddle that was forming around her. I groaned with pleasure as Rebecca continued to milk my cock until every last drop was squeezed out.
*****
“Anna,” Charlie said softly. “You have five minutes to empty that glass and win £359,080. Your time starts… now!”
Instantly, the cheering and encouragement began, not least from my own girlfriend. “Drink it!” she mouthed, staring at the stage.
Anna bought the glass to her lips and tilted it so that the smallest amount of cum touched them, obviously hoping to take a small sip, before gagging and pushing the glass away from her. Tears welled in her eyes, smudging her mascara. “I can’t!” she mouthed at her husband, and the tears began to flow in earnest. Ted knelt down behind her, stroking her hair and we heard him encouraging her as the clock ticked down… come on, baby… just one big mouthful… for little Josh… Holding the back of her head, he guided the glass back towards her lips. It touched them and then, slowly, she opened her lips slightly and let some of the creamy yellow liquid begin to enter her mouth. She could only have let a small mouthful in before she pushed the glass away again; a long string of spunk connecting it and her mouth eventually broke and fell onto her chest where it nestled between her boobs. We could see the effort this was taking — she screwed up her eyes and swallowed, to a cheer from the audience, before leaning forward and retching, spitting onto the floor in front of her. When she sat up, spit dripping from her chin and eyes watering, she shook her head slightly and looked pleadingly up at Charlie. She got short shrift.
“Anna, you’ve had toe minutes.”
“Come on Anna,” we heard Ted whisper, “Just one more big mouthful….”
Again, he guided the glass and this time her trembling hands joined is. Eyes closed, her mouth opened wide and we watched a large globs of spunk dropped form the rim of the cup into her mouth. When most of the glass was empty, she again pushed it away and sat, breathing through her nose.
We thought she’d done it, we really did, but before she could swallow any more, she gave another huge retch and sprayed the entire mouthful out — mostly over the stage but also over herself, her husband and, most satisfyingly, Charlie’s shoes. A groan of disbelief went up from the audience followed by a polite round of applause and some cheers of commiseration as Anna again sat hunched over retching, coughing up a mixture of spunk and saliva, spitting out the taste onto the floor. Ted sat rubbing her on the back like most blokes have done when their girlfriends had too much to drink but you could tell how pissed off he was – £350 grand gone in an instant.
When she eventually managed to stand up, we gave Anna a huge cheer which I’m sure did nothing to alleviate the shame and humiliation she must have been feeling, stood covered in bodily fluids, her body on show to everyone having just performed a number of intense sexual acts for literally no recompense whatsoever. There was to be no retirement, no windfall. Just a return to work knowing that everyone thought she was a slut — a dirty, nasty, anal loving piss whore of a slut
Charlie waved goodbye and strode of the stage, leaving the dungaree woman to round up proceedings as she tried not to get any jizz on those purple Docs
*****
Unsurprisingly, I got an email a couple of months later saying that “Can You Take It All?” had not been commissioned, that the pilot episodes were not going to be broadcast (and, furthermore, all tapes of the pilot episode had been deleted), and that we had signed a comprehensive non-disclosure agreement preventing us from discussing what had happened. There was a definite whiff of litigation about the whole thing; I wondered if Anna had finally come to her senses and threatened to sue the arse off the production company or whether their own lawyers had seen the tapes and gone into apoplectic fits thinking about the censors and critical response. Had they conned a group of innocent, gullible people into making a nasty porn film? We’ll never know, although me and Rebecca did recognise skanky chav and her husband in a raft of porn films around the same time, including Roger Cox’s “Anal Housewives 3” around the same time.
And me and Rebecca? We barely made it back to the hotel before ripping each other’s clothes off. The sex that night was amazing, as it was the next morning and most of the afternoon too… in fact, our sex life ever since has been amazing! And as for Rebecca’s; long supressed fantasies? Let’s just say, I have plans….