Page 64 of Ticket to the Stars: Part Two

And so fucking hot.

I stared into her eyes as I began to fuck her. My voice came out low, “You looked so beautiful taking Bishop and Deacon. I love watching them fill you up. You take them so well, Angel, and you’re so fucking sexy when you’re full of cock.”

Her inner core tightened around my length, her eyelids becoming so heavy they had to close. She moaned softly with each thrust of mine, and I didn’t stop praising her.

I lowered my head to hers as I murmured, “You’re such a good girl for us, aren’t you? You’re our angel. Our little, sexy angel. Are you ready to put on a show wearing our cum between your thighs?”

All Angel could do was mumble something incoherent.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear that.”

This time I heard her: “Yes.”

My chest rumbled with approval, and my cock pierced her pussy a little harder after that. “Good girl.” Hearing her moan when I called her that, I kept going, “Good girls come when they’re getting fucked. Are you going to come for me right now, hmm?”

Even with the mask on her face, I could tell she was close. I knew Angel well enough by now to know when she was inching towards her precipice, when she was so fucking close to coming herself—and I also knew that she loved the dirty talk so much, it might just be enough to shove her over that ledge.

“Come for me, Angel,” I whispered. “Let’s show Bishop and Deacon how easily you come for me. Let me feel you coming undone on my cock.”

That was it. Those were the magic words, so to speak, all I needed to say—while fucking her, of course—to make her come. The arms she had hooked around my neck twitched, the muscles in them spasming, and she threw herhead back and moaned. Her inner core clamped down on my length as she came, the orgasm so powerful she pretty much became putty in my hands after that.

“Good girl,” I told her, smirking. “Such a good girl for me.”

Feeling her pussy tighten around my cock pushed me over the edge—although, to be honest, I’d gotten so turned on by watching Bishop and Deacon fuck her that it wouldn’t have taken me long, even if she hadn’t orgasmed.

My arms wrapped around her back, and I pulled her body close as I rocked my hips forward, plunging my cock deep into her core as my length twitched inside her. A low moan came from me, pleasure surging inside. Shoots of hot cum squirted from the tip of my cock, filling her inner core with even more of the stuff.

Holy shit. The moment after an orgasm was just about as amazing as the orgasm itself.

I never wanted to pull out of her. That, I knew, was a sentiment I shared with the others. When we were inside Angel, we never, ever wanted it to end. There was something about her that made the rest of the world cease to exist.

Alas, we had a show to put on, so I stumbled back and put my cock away with a smirk toward Angel, who sat on the edge of the table, her legs spread, her dress still bunched up. “Better fix those panties,” I told her as I zipped up my pants. “I don’t want anything oozing down your thighs, love.”

I’d bet anything Angel was flushed under all that paint and that mask. Her full lips were parted, and she said not a word as she reached down between her legs and tugged the panties over her wet slit. She hopped down, fixed her dress and her hair, and then looked at the three of us. Surprisingly steady on her feet, given everything that body had taken from us.She hurried to pull on her tights.

“So,” she started, her lips slow to curl into a smile. “Are we ready to rock this thing?”

Before either of the other guys could react, I swept towards her, pulled her close, and bent my top half down, pressing my lips against hers. It was a good thing this body paint was smear-proof.

“Yes, love,” I whispered. “We’re ready to rock.”

And that’s exactly what we did. We left the dressing room, and soon enough we were backstage, getting ready to go on.

The crowd was wild. Ravenous, even. The screams were deafening as we walked on stage. A way bigger audience than I ever thought we’d have. Black Sacrament’s reboot had worked, and we owed it all to Angel.

Our Angel.

“Hey, there, San Francisco,” I spoke into the mic once the audience’s volume died down. “How are you all doing tonight?” Again, they cheered, and I waited for them to finish before continuing, “I’m so glad to see you all here tonight, and I hope you’re ready to rock.”

More applause. More shouting. The women in the audience watched me with lust in their eyes, and the men wished they were me. I used to get off on that feeling: the feeling of being desired by everyone, in one way or another.

Don’t get me wrong. It was still exhilarating. Being on stage, in front of a large crowd where faces eventually blurred together was unlike any other feeling in the world—but all the women, all the adoration… none of that mattered to me anymore. I had the only one I wanted right next to me.

I lowered my voice to the low, husky tone I often took when talking to the audience at shows like this, “I want to dedicate tonight’s performance to one person, a very special person who’s become more important to me than air itself.”

Turning my head, I looked at Angel, and she was slow to meet my stare. With the stage lights shining brightly over our heads, they were reflected like stars in the azure depths of her eyes. She looked mystified, almost. Mystified and so very in love with me.

And, fuck, I was so in love with her, I couldn’t think straight half the time.

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