The Mating Game Ch. 08

The story so far: 20 years in the future, Paul and Dianne are competing in the hot reality TV show 'Fucks for Bucks'.

All characters are 18 or over. Comments welcome, as always.

The Mating Game, Chapter 8

by Kris Cherita

"Right," said Kyle, as Paul, Noah and seven other men were escorted onto a small soundstage, "last week, you all got a hands-free blowjob. Maybe more than one, from what I've heard." His sour tone suggested that he was disgruntled at not having been invited to the blowbang. "Well, it's time to reciprocate. You'll have 68 minutes to make three women come just with your mouths. You may've seen this before if you've watched the show, but because we don't want to lose too many of you, we've made it a little easier this year. If you can get the trifecta, you and your partner stay in the game. Two out of three ain't bad, so you might stay in the game. Less than two, well... I hope you can dress quickly, because you'll be out on your ass and flying home tonight. Your partner can still decide whether to go with you or stay. Clear?"

The men nodded.

"Good. To make things a little more interesting, though, you'll all be blindfolded and our beautiful assistants will guide you into place -- hence the collars and leashes." He uncovered the table behind him, showing a variety of bondage gear. "Take the blindfold off, and you're out. The women have also been gagged so they can't give you instructions and you'll have to rely on other cues. If you touch a woman with your hands or your cock, you're out. If her hands touch you or go below her navel, she's out. If you think you might get distracted, we can take care of that." He held up a pair of fuzzy handcuffs. "We even have a choice of colors.

"The women have also been fitted with sensors that will tell us when they've come -- no faking allowed. When they do, you'll hear a bell, like this." There was a high-pitched 'ting'. "If that's your woman, you'll be taken to the next one available." He nodded at his female assistants: one in a black leather corset and stiletto-heeled boots, one in a crotchless red latex catsuit, the others in abbreviated parodies of cop, nurse and Gestapo uniforms. "There are ten of them out there, including all of your own partners, so some of the cunts should be familiar territory.

"There'll be another bell every ten minutes to let you know how much time you have left." There was more of a low-pitched 'klang', and Paul heard someone mutter, "Ask not for whom..."

"Don't start until you hear that bell. Everybody clear on the rules?" asked Kyle. "Alright. Blindfolds on."

*

Paul let himself be guided into place and pushed down to his knees between a pair of thighs and told to wait for the bell. He took a deep breath, but at the first 'klang', he leaned forward and kissed the mons of his first woman in the game. He was slightly off-centre, but close enough to feel trimmed pubes tickling his lips -- not a full bush like Miranda's or Peewee's, more probably a landing strip or a narrow arrow. He traced this down towards her clit, which he kissed gently, then explored the unfamiliar cunt with kisses before taking a long slow lick upwards with the flat of his tongue from her taint, stopping before he reached her clit and circling around it before carefully sucking on her labia. He could hear a muffled gasp, and tasted her juices as she began to become wet. She smelled clean, but not perfumed -- scarcely even a hint of soap as he began weaving his tongue between her folds, slowly opening her up. A moment later, he heard another 'klang', and flinched slightly before returning his full attention to the delicious dish in front of him. Nearly as frustrated at not being able to use his fingers to stimulate her g-spot as he was by the woman's inability to give him directions (something Dianne never hesitated to do), he circled her clit with the tip of his tongue until he sensed she was ready for more direct contact. After a few minutes, he began sucking on her clit hood to draw out the more sensitive glans, then heard a bell ring, followed by what sounded like a shout of "Ole!"

Paul drew a deep breath, trying not to let himself be distracted as he heard an assistant guide the man into position between the legs of another woman. Another two 'tings' sounded before he finally felt the woman he was pleasuring begin to shudder and her muscular thighs clamped around his ears, almost drowning out the high-pitched sound of her own chime. He continued lapping up her juices as he waited for an assistant to tug on his leash, and kissed her thighs as he was dragged away a moment before another klang resounded through the set. 20 minutes gone already.

The woman in stilettos pushed his face into the hairless and already wet cunt of another contestant, one he recognized almost instantly as his wife's -- partly from the taste and the puffy labia, partly from the smell of the perfume he bought her every year. He tried not to wonder who had made her come in less than 20 minutes, but that reminded him of Jesus shouting "Ole!", and the thought that his job was to give her a second coming made him burst out laughing.

He drew another deep breath, inhaling the delightful aroma of wet cunt, trying to regain his self-control, and began licking around his wife's snatch, careful to avoid her clit in case it was still too sensitive for the contact to be enjoyable. He wasn't sure whether Dianne could see him clearly enough to recognize him -- Kyle hadn't said whether the women were also blindfolded as well as gagged -- or whether she'd know it was him if she couldn't. Despite himself, he began wondering about who had given her first orgasm, and whether their technique was better than his. The thought was almost enough to make him lose the erection he'd gotten from making the first woman come, and he silently told himself to concentrate, to focus on Dianne's reaction as he tentatively spiraled in on her clit, though the sound of camera operators hovering around and zooming in for close-ups made that difficult. He managed not to panic when he heard the klang of the thirty minute mark, but froze for a moment when he heard a shrill whistle. He was wondering whether they were all going to have to evacuate, naked and blindfolded, before the siren stopped and he heard a shout of "Red card!" and the loud fast footfalls of security men in heavy boots, then a man protesting as he was dragged out of the studio. He guessed that one of the male contestants had forgotten the rule about touching the woman he was eating out with his hands or cock. He closed his eyes for a moment, then went back to gently sucking his wife's labia and clit, trying to ignore the ringing of high-pitched bells around him as women climaxed around him. He heard another klang a few minutes before Dianne finally came, and rocked back onto his haunches, waiting for one of the fetishwear-clad hostesses to drag him towards his next woman and push his face into another wet cunt.

After several minutes, he was wondering whether this woman was exhausted or oversensitive or trying to get him kicked out of the game or simply didn't enjoy cunnilingus, because her squirming and the way she clamped her thighs around his ears seemed designed to keep him away from her clit. He was starting to feel discouraged, even desperate, as he heard Kyle congratulate men who'd passed the test and the klang sounded for the one hour time limit. Nine minutes left, and he decided to try completely avoiding her clit, kissing and licking his way down her protruding labia towards her asshole. She responded with a muffled gasp, but instead of flinching away, she wrapped her legs around his head to hold it in place. He nuzzled her dripping minge while running his tongue around her starfish, feeling her writhe in pleasure at the contact. Soon he was fucking her cunt with his nose and her asshole with the tip of his tongue, hoping this would be enough to --

KLANG!

He was still licking when the hostesses prized her legs apart and pulled him to his feet. "Sorry," said Kyle insincerely. "You losers who only managed one orgasm are out. Too bad. And like the old song goes, two out of three ain't bad, but -- no, don't take your blindfolds off yet. We'll let the ladies in the audience decide whether you get another chance. How many of you want Paul to stay in the game? Can I have a show of hands? Inge, Nancy, can you count them please? Okay, who wants him to go?"

Paul waited, the taste of the unknown woman's asshole still on the tip of his tongue.

"Okay, that's more votes to stay than to go, but you're going to have to pass another test. Okay, ladies, how about Ethan? Stay?

"Go?"

"Okay, so you're both still in with a chance. Paul, to stay in the game: you just ate out three women. How many of them can you name?"

Paul exhaled. "The second one was my wife Dianne."

"Okay, that's one. Who were the others?"

Oh, fuck! he thought. Which other women had been there? He forced himself to think. Rosita, Xuan, Tia, Khaleesi... Ben's partner, whatever her name was, and Burke's... Evelyn? Beverly? Kyle had said there would be more women than men, so one wouldn't have had a partner in his shift, it could be anyone...

Okay, the first woman had a landing strip and the other was shaved or waxed, so not Khaleesi. No piercings, so not Candy Rue. And their perfume hadn't smelled like Khaleesi's, or Tia's. Probably not Deepa, either. He tried to visualize the legs: too long for Xuan's, too thin for Tia's...

The landing strip. Who had he seen who had a landing strip, and didn't use perfume? He smiled, remembering the faintly salty tang of the first cunt he'd licked that day. "Briony," he said, trying to sound more confident than he felt.

There was scattered applause from the audience.

"Okay, okay," said Kyle. "Which one?"

"The first one."

"Right. What do we think, ladies? Two out of three enough?"

*

Paul sat in the canteen, sipping at a cappuccino and looking at the two clusters of women in the opposite corner. Donna and Dianne were trying to console Xuan for losing Ethan; Xuan had wanted to leave with him, but Ethan had reminded her that they needed the money. Everly was using the same excuse for staying after Burke's expulsion, but didn't seem unhappy about it. Paul couldn't hear what the other group was saying, but from the way they looked at the men, he doubted they were talking about Michelangelo.

"Don't beat yourself up," said Ben softly, as he pulled up a chair beside Paul. "Imogen's known around the poly community as Jawbreaker Jenny. It's just the luck of the draw. No-one ever said the game was fair."

Paul shrugged. He saw several women watch Jesus as he walked towards the espresso machine, and heard Rosita say with exaggerated pride, "Fastest mouth in all Meh-hee-co." The other women in the group laughed.

"You're both still in the running," Ben reassured him. "If the other shifts did about as well as we did, I bet there's fewer than thirty of us left, but nearly forty women."

Paul knew better than to bet with the statistician. "How long have you and Imogen been poly?"

"Seven years. We met at an orgy. We'd both tried monogamy in our first marriages, hadn't worked that well for either of us. You and Dianne?"

"About a year."

"How's it working for you?"

Paul shrugged. "You two seem to be doing okay."

"Fuck yeah. Not used to having cameras around like this, but the rest of it... it's just one long party. Not that we couldn't use the money. One kid in college and another transitioning, plus my mother-in-law's medical bills... it adds up. Anyway, only two more games before we move into phase two. Then it's all down to audience votes."

"Any idea what the games will be?"

"At least one of them will involve anal. Maybe DPs, threesomes, they always rate well, and that's what it's all about. Tonight's episode probably won't, except with women, but they need to keep them watching too. It's only half about the sex -- there's a fuckton of better porn online -- there's also the drama. Jealousy, heartbreak..." He looked at the tearful Xuan, and grimaced in sympathy. "People love winners, but that means someone's got to lose, too."

*

Paul watched as the list of the people leaving the show flashed across the screen in alphabetical order. Althea, Burke, Cameron, Chad... There were sympathetic groans for some, but Dianne and three other women laughed and applauded at the sight of Jordan's face. This was followed, as always, by the bed assignments for the night. Paul was partnered with Xuan, who was too upset at losing Ethan to want sex, though she was happy to cuddle, and Dianne with Candy Rue's heavily pierced boyfriend Vlad.

While there was some kind of activity organized every night that there wasn't a game, the days had settled into a routine: showers, gym, canteen, games of cards or pool. Some of the contestants followed the news - a well-known TV talking head had been arrested after being caught masturbating onto an M&Ms display at a supermarket; FEMA had been called in to evacuate much of southern California after a gender reveal party; and SCOTUS had ruled 8-5 against Florida's new law allowing marriage six weeks after conception -- but most, including Paul, preferred to ignore the outside world until they were forced to return to it.

Sunday night was karaoke, and Khaleesi stole the show by revising the lyrics of "Don't Cha" to "Don't cha wish your girlfriend was a slut like me? Don't cha wish she loved it up the butt like me?" On Monday and Tuesday nights, they received lectures on webcamming breaking into porn from the judges for phase two: Dick Gigante, Aria Airtight and Rosetta Stone. Then on Wednesday, the new groupings were announced.

"Alright," Kyle told the twenty-three contestants in the first shift, "last game, men were eating pussy for an hour. This time --"

"- can we other have women eating us instead?" Imogen suggested.

Kyle scowled at being upstaged, though he quickly hid it. "Not until Phase Two," he countered, "but there'll be time for that then. Or for some of you, tonight in bed, if that's your thing. No, the women will be eating the men -- yes, again, but this time, you can use your hands. Or anything else above your navel. And you don't have to limit yourself to their cocks: balls, assholes, nipples, whatever else you think will turn them on. Dudes, once again, you'll be keeping your hands behind your backs -- cuffed, if you think the temptation might be irresistible - but this time you'll be the ones who're sitting down.

"Ladies, you have the length of one song, four minutes, give or take ten seconds, to get the man to come on you -- and that's on, not in. We want that money shot, not a creampie. He doesn't come, you're out. He comes too soon, you're both out. Is that clear?

"Those of you who went to school will have noticed that there are more women than men. Dudes, you'll each get to draw a name out of a hat. If it's your partner, put the name back and pick another; if not, call the name out. The women who don't get picked will have a chance again tonight, and we'll be randomly picking men who get a second blowjob. Alright, let's go!"

Paul took a seat between Zac and Ben, drew a folded slip of paper from the trilby that was passed around, opened it, and blinked. "Tia," he shouted, remembering to breathe.

Noah's wife rolled her eyes and suppressed a groan, but took her place standing six feet in front of him, next to Xuan. Ben drew Gigi's name from the hat, Noah scored Gudrun, then Ravi called out "Dianne" in his unmistakable Indian accent. Finally, Jesus yelled out "Deepa," and Kyle turned to the three women who'd not been chosen. "Sorry, ladies," he said insincerely. "Your time will come. For everyone else, that time starts in ten, nine..."

On 'One', the music started -- a cover of 'Relax' - and the women rushed towards the waiting men. Tia knelt between Paul's legs and began caressing his cock with one hand, his balls with another. His cock slowly swelled, and she licked her way up the shaft while looking at his face. She noticed him glancing at Gigi as Ben's seven inches disappeared between her enormous milky-white boobs, and grinned, "That's what you like, is it?" she purred. "You're a tit man. You want me to get you nice and hard so you can titty-fuck me? Let me get it wet first so it'll feel even better." She kissed his glans, then slowly swallowed most of his length. "Oh, yeah, that's good," she said, after nearly a minute of expert fellatio. "Nearly wet enough, nearly wet as my cunt. Ooh, you like that idea, too. Or..." She licked her way back down the underside of his erection to his balls.

"Or are you more of an ass man?" she asked, her hand stroking his cock as her tongue circled his asshole. She chuckled throatily she heard him groan. "Your wife's boobs are on the small side, but she's got a nice ass. I bet you like licking it, but you like fucking it even more. Or doesn't she let you do that?"

Paul swallowed. Tia was too much in control for him to come until she was ready, but he thought vaguely that if he could resist the urge until after the song was finished, Tia would be out of the game and his and Dianne's chances of making it through to the end would be better. He tried to think of the 69 million and what they could do with it, rather than the delightful sensations as Tia teased him.

"Noah loves fucking my ass," confided Tia, just loud enough for Paul and the cameraman to hear. "Once a week, at least. Of course, his cock's fatter than yours, but I'm sure I could accommodate you. Maybe you'll get to find out, if you stay in the game..."

Stay in the game, Paul thought... yes, stay in the game, but the money, try to concentrate on the money...

"Of course," Tia continued, as she straightened up enough to rub her beautiful bodacious brown boobs across his face, "if you both stay in the game, your wife's probably going to get fucked in the ass, too. Maybe by a big black cock like my husband's. Ooh," she said, as she felt his dick swell in her hand. She slid back down his body, rubbing her nipples over his chest and abs, then sandwiching his cock between her tits. "Then it'd only be fair if you fucked my ass as well. That way, you could know for sure whether you preferred fucking my boobs or my butt. Because I can tell you like fucking my boobs." She licked the pre-cum from the tip of his cock. "Ooh, yeah, nearly ready to spurt all over them, yummy white cum on my tongue and my face and my big black bouncy boobs..."

Paul heard the singer urging him to "COME... COME... COME..." and, unable to control himself any longer, he did exactly that. He opened his eyes to the sounds of thunderous applause from the studio audience, and looked down. Jizz was dripping off Tia's neck into her cleavage. "Guess we're both still in the game," she purred.

(To be continued)