Cocksucking Competition Ch. 03

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The conclusion of the cocksucking saga.
10.3k words
4.63
51.7k
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Part 3 of the 3 part series

Updated 10/25/2022
Created 03/25/2014
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swingerjoe
swingerjoe
1,318 Followers

"I'm really glad you're here," Aaron said as he surveyed the scene at the hotel bar.

"You kidding me?" Anthony said. "I wouldn't miss this for the world."

Aaron was grateful that there had been no awkwardness between them since that night in his kitchen. In fact, to his relief, Anthony hadn't mentioned it again. It were almost as if it had never happened.

"How's she doing?" Anthony asked.

"Nervous," Aaron replied, "but I think she's okay. She's up in our room, sleeping. She has a big day ahead of her tomorrow. She's meeting with wardrobe in the morning, and then the media team in the afternoon. And tomorrow night are the preliminaries."

"That's wicked important," Anthony said. "You get a bad seed in this tournament, and it's a tough fight to the top."

Aaron merely nodded his head, and took another sip of beer.

"How are you doing?" Anthony asked.

"I'm nervous for her," Aaron replied. "She's worked so hard for this, and I'm so proud of her. I know she'll do well."

"I gotta give you props, man. I don't know how you do it. What's it like to watch your wife suck all those cocks?"

Anthony paused for a moment. He was embarrassed to admit how it really made him feel, and he knew his friend wouldn't understand.

"Honestly, it's become almost normal now. At first, it wasn't easy to watch, but I've grown used to it. Like I told Rochelle at the beginning, it's really no different than watching someone participate in a hotdog eating contest."

Anthony burst into laughter, and his beer nearly spurted from his nose.

"You didn't fucking say that, did you?"

Aaron nodded his head, and then broke into laughter as well. The absurdity of his analogy, as well as the entire situation they found themselves in, suddenly overcame him. He finished off the last of his beer.

"I'm gonna call it a night," he announced, and gave Anthony a slap on the back. "I'll let you pick up the tab."

"Hey, thanks, man," Anthony responded.

***

Aaron eased himself beneath the sheets as quietly and softly as possible. He heard the sound of halting breath from the other side of the bed.

"You awake?" he asked softly.

"Yeah," came the quiet response.

"It's late," he said, wrapping his arm around her. "You need to rest."

"I know," she said.

"Are you okay?"

There was a long pause.

"I don't think I can do it," she muttered.

"The tournament?" he asked. "Of course you can. Honey, you've come too far to quit."

"I'm not going to quit," she stated. "But there's no way I can win it."

"Why do you say that?"

"I just can't, Aaron. Those other girls have way more experience, and I'm way out of my league."

"How do you know that?"

"I read their bios online. And I saw them walking around in the lobby earlier today. You should've seen the way they looked at me. I don't belong here."

"Of course you do. Don't be ridiculous. You're better than all of them, and you'll prove that this week."

"I'm not here to prove anything," she protested. "I just want to make it to the end and leave here with enough money to help our family."

"You can do it, honey. I believe in you. Mai Lin believes in you. The Minotti people believe in you. You just have to believe in yourself. That's all that matters."

She held his arms and pulled him toward her.

"Now get some sleep," he said. "You have a big day tomorrow."

***

Rochelle wasn't happy with the outfit the Minotti people had selected for her. She was late for her interview in the conference room on the bottom floor of the hotel, but she was still standing in front of the full-length mirror in her hotel room, examining herself from every angle.

"I look absolutely ridiculous," she said.

"Well, the top shows plenty of cleavage," Aaron offered. "That's a good thing."

"The top is the worst part of it!" she countered. She fidgeted with her breasts in an attempt to squeeze them into the frilly green bustier.

"I look like a fucking German beer wench!" she shouted. She turned from side to side, and her short skirt flowed as she swayed. The outfit was accented by a pair of thigh-high white stockings and clunky high heels.

"We need to go," he said. "You're already late."

She expelled a deep sigh, and stormed out of the room, with Aaron trailing behind. As soon as she entered the media room, a team of assistants swarmed around her. One fitted her with a microphone, another fixed her hair, and yet another had the audacity to adjust her breasts. She nearly slapped the man. As soon as she was seated, the interview began.

"So, tell us about yourself," the interviewer began. Rochelle wore a phony smile and looked into the camera.

"Well, my name is Molly, and I'm from Apple Valley, Minnesota. I have three children and a loving husband of twenty-three years."

In the days leading up to the tournament, she had been meeting with a consultant from the Minotti group, who coached her on media relations. She had been given a script, which she was told to memorize. The goal was to portray her as a Midwestern soccer mom, which was a unique resume for a contestant in the NCC's. The Minotti people thought that this character would resonate with the audience and lend some much-needed credibility to the tournament.

Rochelle continued to answer questions precisely as she had been coached. At the conclusion of the interview, she politely thanked the interviewer for his time, and attempted to flee from the room as quickly as possible. On the way out, she crossed paths with a stunning red-haired woman. She was statuesque and thin, and had massive breasts that were out of proportion with the rest of her body and strained against the material of her sparkling red top.

The woman looked at Michelle with disdain, and gave her a phony smile.

"Nice outfit," she said with a smirk.

Rochelle found her husband standing by the door, and scurried from the room, trying to avoid eye contact with anyone else. All she wanted to do was get back to her room, remove those ridiculous clothes, and crawl back into bed.

***

The sound of retching echoed off the walls of the bathroom, and Aaron debated whether he should enter the lady's room and ensure that his wife was okay. Moments later, she emerged, looking tired and frazzled.

"I'm okay," she said, before he had a chance to ask.

They had arrived at the event facility hours before. It appeared to be a large, abandoned warehouse in the middle of the desert, roughly thirty minutes away from the hotel. The event organizers had erected makeshift bleachers in the main section of the warehouse, which surrounded a large, square platform. The "backstage" area included a locker room, several changing rooms, bathroom facilities, and a section for the media.

As the preliminary round was merely used to determine the seeds for the tournament bracket, only a handful of spectators surrounded the platform. One at a time, the contestants were called to the stage. Five blindfolded men, all wearing earphones, were escorted onto the stage, and one at a time, three of them were sucked off by the contestant, with the other two serving as options for switches.

Rochelle awaited her turn, wringing her hands and pacing back and forth. She continued to tug at her costume, which she reluctantly put back on her body after shedding it earlier that afternoon. When she arrived at the facility, she was surprised to see all of the other contestants wearing casual clothing. Evidently, the costumes were not necessary for the preliminary round. As if she didn't feel uncomfortable and self-conscious enough, this mistake only added to the queasy feeling in her belly.

"Molly Mounds, please come to the stage," a voice bellowed over the sound system.

"Good luck," Aaron said, and gave her a sweet kiss.

She wasn't used to wearing such high heels, and she imagined herself tripping on the way to the stage. It would simply be the grand conclusion to a humiliating day. As she ascended the steps onto the platform, she felt light-headed, and for a moment she feared she would pass out. There were two kneeling pads in the center of the stage: one blue, and one red. She could feel the thumping of her heart in her chest as she lowered herself to the blue cushion, which was attached to the base of the platform.

As she took her position, she could hear murmurs and laughter from the audience surrounding her. She was so distracted, she didn't even notice that the procession of naked men had entered the stage until one was standing directly in front of her. His limp dick dangled in front of her face. From the first impression, it was difficult to believe that it would grow to regulation size. She was startled by the ringing of a bell.

"Go! Go!" Mai Lin shouted from the corner of the stage, and Rochelle snapped out of her daze. She inhaled the cock in front of her and worked her mouth and tongue over it. It seemed as though several minutes had passed, and he wasn't yet fully aroused. Panic set in. She had forgotten to count in her head. She had forgotten everything.

She swirled her tongue around the tip of his cock and, at last, it hardened in her mouth. She continued swirling, and added a pumping motion with her hand. Within moments, a stream of warm fluid hit the back of her throat. She withdrew, and spit it out onto her ugly blouse as another spurt splashed against her chin.

"Point!" a voice yelled from her right. She hadn't even noticed the referee, who was wearing a traditional black-and-white striped shirt.

The man in front of her was quickly whisked away and replaced by another naked man. Rochelle engulfed his cock so quickly that it seemed to startle him. Again, it seemed that it took him longer than usual to become hard. This time, she remembered to count in her head. By the time she reached thirty-five, he had become hard enough. She furiously worked her mouth over his shaft, but she could tell that he wasn't close to cumming, and a jolt of panic returned.

"The balls!" Mai Lin screamed. Rochelle instantly cupped the man's balls, and his dick throbbed inside her mouth. She placed a couple of fingers underneath and massaged his perineum. Almost instantly, his cock expanded and his balls tightened. She withdrew just in time, and jerked him off onto her face. Two massive streams of cum splashed against each of her cheeks.

"Point two!" the referee yelled.

The third man had barely stepped into position when Rochelle grabbed him by the base of his cock and pulled him into her mouth. She grabbed him by the hips and fucked her face with his cock. In short order, she was rewarded with a hot and milky load, which she spewed from her lips onto her blouse.

"Point three! Time!"

Rochelle remained kneeling in the center of the stage as the naked men were escorted from the platform. She looked to the corner of the stage, and Mai Lin was wearing a rather sullen expression, but then smiled and gave a thumbs-up sign. Rochelle rose to her feet, and scanned the crowd for her husband. He, too, gave her a smile and a thumbs-up.

"You did great!" Aaron said, once she had descended from the stage. She was still covered in the spunk of three different men, and she attempted to clean herself with the sleeve of her blouse.

"I'm sorry," Aaron said. "I thought they would have provided towels. I would have brought one if I'd known."

"No worries," she said. "Do you know what my final time was?"

"You didn't see it? It was posted on the big digital readout behind the stage. It was nine minutes, thirty-two seconds."

Rochelle's face dropped.

"That's awful," she said.

"It's not that bad," he reassured her with a hug. "Don't worry about it. It was just preliminaries."

***

"Thirteen," Aaron stated while staring at his cell phone.

"What's that, honey?" Rochelle asked. Her words echoed off the shower walls, and hot steam filled the room.

Aaron moved closer and shouted, "Number thirteen. That's where they've ranked you."

"Thirteen," she repeated, with a hint of dejection. "Out of sixteen. Great."

"Hey, as of right now, you're the thirteenth best cocksucker in the world! And that number is only going to rise. The initial odds have been posted, and they have you down as 30-to-1 underdog. I'm tempted to wager a little money on that one!"

"Don't you dare," she said, sternly. "You suck at gambling. And besides, contestants aren't allowed to bet."

"I'm not a contestant," he said, slyly. "Maybe I could get someone to place a bet for me, then."

"Don't," she warned. "I'm the financial expert in our family, remember? Besides, I may not even get past the first round. Does it say who I'll be facing?"

He touched his phone a few times with his finger. "Bethany Blew," he said. "Her bio says she's a porn actress."

"I'm facing a fucking porn star in the first round?" Rochelle shouted, the words echoing off the walls.

"Calm down," he assured her. "Being a porn star doesn't necessarily mean she's good at what she does. She only has to look good doing it."

"Oh, really," she responded with a smirk as she slid open the door of the shower stall. "And how does she look, Aaron?"

"Pretty good," he said with a nod and a wink. Rochelle stepped out of the shower and slapped him with her towel.

"You seem like you're in a better mood today," he remarked.

"I am, for now," she said. "Until tonight. Then I'll be a miserable wreck again."

"Well," he said, moving toward her. "Maybe I can take your mind off of everything and relax you."

"I just stepped out of the shower!" she protested, pushing him away. "And I'm starving. Maybe if you buy me lunch, I'll put out for you later."

"You drive a hard bargain," he teased. "But it's a deal."

They walked hand-in-hand through the lobby and strolled through the revolving door and into the blazing sun. The heat was a welcome contrast to the frigid temperatures that awaited them back home. They walked a few blocks to the nearest casino, and followed the signs to the buffet. They were overwhelmed with the wide selection of delicious-looking food, and loaded their plates. The dining area was filled with tourists, and they were able to secure an empty table in the middle of the room.

"This is incredible!" Rochelle remarked as she sat in her chair. "They have literally every type of food you can imagine! And it all looks amazing!"

"If nothing else," Aaron replied with a mouthful of food, "we got a free vacation out of this. Do you realize we haven't left New England since our honeymoon?"

Rochelle nodded enthusiastically, and made yummy noises as she ate. Just then, she noticed a group of people walking toward their table. She was struck by a bolt of panic when she recognized the red-haired woman at the front of the pack. Her enormous breasts were difficult to forget, and she had that same smug look on her face that Rochelle had seen the day before at her interview.

"Oh, shit," she mumbled, attempting to hide behind her hand.

"What?" Aaron said.

"It's that woman from yesterday," she said. Aaron turned to look behind him.

"No!" she whispered. "Don't look at her!"

But it was too late. The woman had clearly recognized her. She sauntered toward their table and stopped. She was holding a tray that held a bottle of water and a salad. She looked down upon Rochelle, and her eyes moved to her plate.

"Enjoying your meal?" she asked with a smirk. "Best of luck tonight."

"Same to you," Rochelle answered with a fake smile.

As the woman walked away with her entourage in tow, she turned to the woman next to her and said in a voice that was loud enough for Rochelle to hear, "I didn't know we had a heavyweight division."

"I hate that cunt," Rochelle said, prompting a startled look from Aaron.

"I don't think I've ever heard you use that word," he said.

"Did you hear what she said?"

"You mean, 'best of luck?' Yeah...what a bitch!" He smiled, but his wife didn't find it funny.

"After that," she said. "Never mind. I just hate her and her giant fake tits. Why is she even here? Who comes to a buffet like this and orders a fucking salad? Seriously."

"Do you know who that was?" he asked. Rochelle shook her head.

"No, why? Should I?"

"That was Candy Cummings, dear. The three-time champion."

Rochelle's face dropped.

"You're kidding me," she said. Aaron slowly shook his head. She dropped her head and pushed her plate away.

"Suddenly, I'm not so hungry."

***

"Ladies and gentlemen!" the announcer intoned. "Our next event is about to begin! On the blue side, representing the great state of Minnesota, a mother of three and housewife for more than twenty years, please welcome to the stage Mollllllllly Mounnnnnnnds!"

A polite smattering of applause greeted Rochelle as she carefully walked to the center of the stage, still wrestling with the top of her costume. She was hoping that it had been ruined from the night before, and was disappointed to see it hanging in the closet of her hotel room in a dry cleaning bag when she returned from lunch.

"On the red side," the announcer continued, "please welcome the star of such legendary films as 'Cum-Soaked Sluts 14', 'Teenaged Nimphos 4', and 'Dude, Where's My Whore?', the lovely and talented Bethannnnnny Blewwwwwww!"

The crowd rose to their feet and applauded enthusiastically. Rochelle glanced toward her corner, and Mai Lin gave her two supportive thumbs-up. She then scanned the crowd, and found Aaron seated in the front row next to Anthony. He, too, gave her a supportive smile and a wave. The noise from the large crowd was overwhelming. Although she could feel her heart thumping, she was grateful that at least she didn't feel like she was going to puke.

Bethany approached the center of the stage and waved to the crowd. She was wearing a skin-tight blue dress that barely covered her shapely ass. As the crowd continued cheering, she egged them on by lowering the top of her dress, exposing her perfectly round tits. She smiled at Rochelle, and shook her hand in a gesture of sportsmanship. Ten naked men were ushered onto the stage by bikini-clad escorts and stood in two rows at the head of the platform. The referee approached the two contestants.

"This is the first round," he explained, stating the obvious. "The first to three points wins. Two switches are allowed, at your discretion. Mouths on cocks at all times. Point is called when I see the cumshot. Any questions?"

Both ladies shook their heads. They were directed to take their positions, and they knelt upon their padded markers. Two blindfolded men were then led to stand directly in front of them.

Rochelle closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Although she could feel herself shaking, she tried to push aside all thoughts and emotions and simply concentrate on the task at hand. The bell rang. Rochelle leaned forward, and put the naked man's cock in her mouth. She began counting in her head. Ten. Twenty. Thirty.

Panic set in as the cock in her mouth remained mostly limp. She took it out of her mouth and held it as she looked to Mai Lin.

"Switch!" Mai Lin screamed. "Switch!!"

"Switch!" Rochelle screamed, and a bikini-clad usher immediately whisked away the man in front of her. Another limp dick appeared before her, and Rochelle took it into her mouth. To her relief, it hardened instantly.

"Point for red!" the referee yelled, and the crowd roared. While still sucking her cock, Rochelle glanced over and saw Bethany jerking the cock onto her cum-soaked face.

Rochelle grabbed the man's hips and forcefully fucked her mouth with his cock, taking him deep into her throat, and out again. She pressed her long tongue forcefully against his shaft as she stroked it with her mouth, and it expanded. A blast of cum soaked her tongue, and she withdrew her mouth and stroked it with her hand.

"Point for blue!" the referee exclaimed, raising his arm. The audience whistled and applauded. Rochelle glanced at Mai Lin.

swingerjoe
swingerjoe
1,318 Followers