Darling, the very first night I stepped on stage as the fabulous O’Shea Mann, I was a fucking nervous wreck. Picture it – a raw, untested queen pacing up and down in the dressing room, wringing her hands like a damn worrywart. My knees were knocking, my wig was askew, and my brows were sagging from all the stress. I thought for sure I was gonna vomit from nerves.
But then, in a glittering puff of rainbow smoke, an absolute treasure appeared before me. “Well well well, what do we have here?” purred Bob the Twink in a voice smooth as honey. He was a vision in a bedazzled crop top, his pecs glistening like diamonds. “Looks like somebody needs a little pre-show pick-me-up, hmm?”
I could only gurgle in response, my mouth as dry as the Sahara. Bob the Twink grinned like a naughty schoolboy and snapped his fingers. A steaming teacup appeared in a puff of sparkles. “Drink up, queen. Mama Bob’s special blend will fix you right up.”
I took the cup tentatively and inhaled the intoxicating aroma wafting from the shimmering liquid within. Oh honey, it smelled divine! I sipped and nearly swooned at the taste – it was like liquid ecstasy. The tea tasted of Frangipani flowers, strutting down the runway, and making an audience scream your name. Before I knew it, the cup was empty.
Bob the Twink took it from my trembling fingers and set it aside. “There there, you’ll be feeling more yourself in a jiffy,” he cooed. “But you still seem a bit tense. Let me help with that.”
With an impish wink, he dropped to his knees and hiked up my fabulous skirt. “Oh yes,” he moaned, drinking in the sight of my big hard cock straining against the lacy panties beneath. “You’re fucking hung, O’Shea!”
I could only whimper as he hooked his fingers in my waistband and dragged it down. My cock sprang free, the head already weeping precum. “Look at you,” Bob purred, “so hard and ready for me.”
He wrapped his plush lips around me and swallowed me whole in one smooth motion. I nearly fainted from the sensations of his wet heat engulfing me. Bob the Twink deep-throated me like he hadn’t eaten in weeks, gagging and slurping with abandon. Drool ran down his chin as he bobbed on my dick, his own impressive bulge tenting his shorts.
“Oh fuck,” I gasped, my hands finding purchase in his hair. “Bob! Oh shit, just like that!”
He pulled off with a wet pop and grinned up at me. “I’m not done with you yet, baby. Not by a long shot.”
Licking his lips, Bob the Twink nudged my thighs apart and settled between them. He mouthed at my heavy balls, rolling them like dice and lapping at the delicate skin. Then he was kissing and licking a trail to my puckered asshole, spreading my cheeks apart with his strong hands.
“Uh uh, no one’s ever- aahh!- gone there before,” I stammered.
“Leave it to me,” Bob purred. “I’ll make you feel so goood.”
He sealed his lips over my quivering hole and inhaled like a vacuum. The tip of his tongue wriggled past my clenched rim and I nearly leapt out of my skin. “Hah! Hngh fuck, Bob!”
He tongued me through my fluttering walls, wriggling deeper. At the same time, he wrapped a hand around my throbbing cock and pumped in time with his thrusting muscle. The dual stimulation had me thrashing, my heavy tits nearly spilling out of my too-tight top.
I was babbling nonsense, drool sliding down my chin, as Bob ate me out with gusto. My cock bounced in his fist, the head purple and angry red. When his tongue pushed in deep and curled against my prostate, I was done for.
“Oh shit oh fuck I’m gonna- HNNG!”
I blew like a geyser, thick jets of pearly jizz erupting straight up. It splashed the ceiling, the walls, rained back down on us. Bob the Twink moaned as he milked me through it, gulping down my seed.
When I was spent, he pulled back and licked his lips. “Delicious,” he purred, pressing a sweet kiss to my twitching hole.
I pulled him up for a filthy tongue kiss, shuddering as I tasted myself on his mouth. We made out sloppy and thorough until a sharp rap at the door.
“O’Shea! 5 minutes!” called the stage manager.
Bob the Twink broke the kiss and patted my cheek, leaving a smear of cum. “Break a leg out there! And remember – you belonged to me tonight.”
Then he was gone in another puff of rainbow smoke, leaving me dazed and dripping on my knees. I blinked slowly, a lazy grin spreading across my face.
Feeling more centered than I had in hours, I stood and adjusted my wig. I fluffed my skirt and checked myself in the mirror, blowing a kiss. No longer a bundle of nerves, I was ready to slay.
And so I did, baby. I shook my ass and worked my pole…um, the pole, and snatched those tips. And whenever I felt myself getting anxious, I’d feel Bob the Twink’s phantom tongue in my ass, urging me on.
I may have been born O’Shea Mann, but that night on stage, I was reborn…a STAAAAR!
Hot Kisses & Wet Dreams, Boys!
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