“Penelope,” I repeat, smiling and holding out my hand to take hers.
Almost groaning when her skin touches mine.
It’s like all the fireworks have gone off all over again, but it’s just her fingers in mine as I help her out of her seat and up onto the stage.
“I got you,” I murmur into her ear, feeling her nerves but wanting her to feel at ease with me.
I want to do more than whisper into her ear. I need more than the scent of her hair.
“Penelope, ladies and gentleman!” I announce, grateful for the applause and none of the wise-ass comments I know some audiences are capable of.
“Now, Penelope,” I say earnestly. “We’ve never met before, have we?” I ask, noticing her flush hard.
“Have we?” I ask again, kicking myself if I have met her before and can’t remember.
But I seriously doubt that.
She shakes her head in the negative, suddenly robbed of the power of speech.
The stage. A crowd like this. All the lights. It takes some getting used to.
“You sure?” I ask her again, wanting a friendly laugh from the crowd and getting it now.
They’re instantly on her side. It’s perfect.
She’s definitely not an audience plant. I really have just met her and it shows.
“I… I kinda feel like I know you,” she finally pipes in, the mike whopping her nose as she yanks it down to her mouth.
“I’m a huge fan,” she squeaks, looking up at me. The crowd applauds loudly, cheering.
Instantly, I see my cock where the mike is.
Where my manhood should be right now instead of springing to life in my pants.
Tight leather can only hide so much, and I don’t mind if Penelope sees the effect she’s having on me, but it is a G-rated show…
I need to think about something else.
Focus, Jett.
No. Not on her chest… On the tank, that’s it. Focus now.
“Well, Penelope,” I tell her in a confiding tone, pausing for effect. “I need you to thoroughly look over the tank here, and the stage around it, and finally my chains and locks before I’m lowered into the tank,” I add, also letting the crowd know my greatest trick isn’t gonna be left for last this time.
There’s a booming applause, and after some encouragement from the team who comes out on stage to fit me with the padlocks and chains, Penelope does as she’s told.
Good girl.
I hope you like taking orders because I have a thousand things I want you to do… And another ten thousand I wanna do to you.
Instead of focusing on my breathing, running through the stunt sequence, I’m thinking about her.
I imagine how she’d pant with my face buried between her legs, my hands running across her smooth skin.
Gripping those childbearing hips… filling her with my—
I’m aware of the tugging at my clothes, the usually heavy and cold steel chains being hung about me.
But all I can concentrate on is this feeling inside me, my need to share it with her.
“All good?” Someone from my team asks in a low voice, and without taking my eyes off Penelope, or even checking my rigging, I give the signal.
Apart from not having my hands shackled behind my back yet, I’m ready to go into the tank.
Penelope rushes to my side, clutching at me with a look of fear in her eyes.
“Be careful, Jett,” she pleads, and the audience gasps with her. The whole arena is on edge as I lean in to tell her I’ll be fine.
Before I know it, she’s planted a peck on my cheek, and the crowd erupts all over again.
“For luck,” she whispers close enough for me to hear, flushing red as I touch my cheek then press my fingers to my lips next.
Tasting enough of her to make my aching cock begin to pulse all over again.
Attempting its own escape as soon as it can, with one place in mind to disappear into.
I climb the steps up to the top of the tank, with overhead cameras and a chest cam on my assistant as well as myself, the whole stunt will be broadcast to huge screens around the arena.
And for the taped special, no doubt.
Once at the top. My hands are manacled behind me and I’m handcuffed with zip ties as well as regular steel cuffs.
Overkill?
Well, I wanted to do it in a tank filled with alligators, but the legal team said no.
It’s the single most perfect moment so far all day, looking down and seeing Penelope’s eyes on mine.
But it’s about to be the single dumbest thing I’ve done for a while too.
She’s not faking it either. She’s genuinely worried.
For me.
And I’m genuinely hard as these steel bracelets.
For her.
Without too much more fan fair or suspense, I plunge feet first into the tank.
The sound of Penelope screaming, the audience gasping is the last thing I hear before the water fills my ears.