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He moaned around me, one hand slipping under my T-shirt to stroke my belly while the other squeezed my thigh.
“And, um…” My voice was unsteady, but I was mostly trying to distract myself so it wasn’t totally obvious what was happening up here if anyone looked. “Pr-private meet-and-greets with the wrestlers after the sh-show that people pay for…”
Holt groaned again, the sound vibrating through my cock, and pulled back to trail his lips and tongue down the side of my shaft. His voice was gravelly when he said, “Keep going, baby.”
“Nngh, y-you, um…” My fingers slid into his hair, clutching the silky strands as my hips strained up to slide my cock against his tongue. “I can’t—Dildos.”
He paused with his tongue on my slit, glancing up at me. “Dildos?”
“Of… of the wrestlers’—No, wait, that’s a bad idea.” I gripped his hair tighter, breathing fast as his tongue teased my tip. “I-I can’t think of anything else right now.”
“Mmm.” With a smirk, he kissed the tip of my cock. “Then why don’t you tell me what you want me to do to you later? When we’re having our little sleepover at my place.”
“H-Holt.” I tore my gaze away to glance worriedly down at the arena. No one seemed to be paying any attention to us, so I whipped my head back down to watch Holt’s lips wrap around my cock and sink lower. “I w-want… I want you to fuck me. I want to ride you.”
He groaned gutturally, reaching down to fumble with his fly as he pulled his mouth free to rasp, “Wearing the cowboy hat?”
“Y-yeah,” I breathed, my hips lifting in tiny thrusts as he started sucking me again. “I want to ride you in the cowboy hat and nothing else.”
He moaned around my length, too busy sucking me to answer. He was stroking his own cock now, hips twitching as he knelt on the floor between my spread legs.
“Okay, folks, while you start taking your seats, we’ve got an announcement!”
I was vaguely aware of the commentator’s voice coming over the mic, but I was far too busy staring down at Holt between my knees, my chest heaving with my whimpering breaths.
“Do you want to introduce yourself?” the commentator continued, before a squeal of feedback came over the mic.
“Yeah, hey, my name’s Larkin?” A familiar voice boomed out over the arena. “Oh man, it’s awesome up here. Yo, Ethel! Dope dress.”
Swallowing, I tried to calm my breathing as a distant part of my brain wondered why Larkin was making an announcement over the sound system. But then Holt started lapping at the pre-cum seeping from my tip, swirling his tongue, and I decided I didn’t care as I let out a shuddering moan.
“Yeah, so, I’m Holt’s assistant,” Larkin continued, speaking far too closely to the mic. “Holt’s the guy who makes all this possible. He’s the owner and manager of Goliaths. Holt Hector. And he’s watching the show tonight from his private viewing box, where he’s definitely not having sex. Up there. Yeah, yeah, there. Everyone look. Let’s show the boss some appreciation, huh?”
Wait. Wait. The words slowly filtered into my consciousness. I tore my gaze from Holt kneeling between my legs, still languidly sucking my cock, and looked down at the arena. All the blood drained from my face when I saw every single pair of eyes looking back at me.
My horrified gaze swung to the big screen as the camera operator tilted the lens up to the viewing box and zoomed in on my face. Just right in on it. Hideously close.
“No, that’s not Holt. That’s Taylor.” Larkin snickered into the mic. “Hey, Taylor, where’s Holt? He in there with you? What’s he doing? Why can’t we see him? What’s with the privacy glass?”
“Holt,” I hissed, trying to keep my mouth as still as possible.
“Hmm?” he replied lazily, fucking his fist as he slid his mouth up and down my cock.
“Everyone’s—nngh—looking.” I attempted to fix an easy smile on my face, but on the big screen, I could see my tightly clenched teeth and the sweat beading on my hairline. “Larkin told everyone to look up here over the mic.”
Holt finally froze, then slowly slid his mouth free with a wet pop. “That little shit.”
“Everyone’s looking,” I repeated in a whimper. “What do I do?”
“Come on, Holt!” Larkin called gleefully over the mic. “We wanna see the boss! Holt, Holt, Holt!”
The audience joined in. Everyone was chanting, “Holt!” and pumping their fists as he fumbled to shove his cock back into his slacks, swearing under his breath.
He gripped my knees to stand up, but my hands shot down to stop him.
“N-no, wait, you can’t just stand up! They’ll all know!”
“For fuck’s—” Breathing hard, he dropped down to the carpet and started army crawling around the couch to the door. “If this suit gets ruined, I’m taking the cost of a new one out of that little dickhead’s salary.”
