Free Black Orchid by Roxanne Carr

and clapping which
mingled with the heavy, pounding music swelling around her,
Maggie wondered what he would do if she reached forward
and tugged on the centre link of that fine gold chain . . .
    He offered her hardly any resistance as she pulled him slowly
down towards her. Maggie could not take her eyes off the way
the skin of his hard brown nipples pulled and hardened under
the slight pressure. She moistened her lips with the tip of her
tongue as she imagined the sensation of encountering cold
metal against her lips in counterpoint to the warmth of one
perfect, tumescent nub.
    The throb between her legs intensified as he suddenly
gripped her wrist with one hand and stopped her insistent
tugging. She looked up at him ruefully, holding her breath as
he brought his lips within inches of her own. Softly, so no one
else could have heard, he breathed,
    'Later.'
    Maggie had never heard such an exciting, promising word.
Later. She let him go, reluctantly and he turned to the rest of
the audience who, she now realised, had begun to grow restless.
They went wild as he grabbed at his crotch and swivelled
his hips crudely.
    He knew exactly what they wanted, Maggie thought admiringly as she stood back and watched him dance. As the
crowd whipped themselves up into a good-natured frenzy, the
man dispensed with his leather trousers and posed again,
giving them time to absorb the impact of his golden, heavily
muscled body, covered only by an inadequate G-string made
of some kind of black netting.
    Maggie's eyes fastened on his barely restrained penis
which was squashed into the straining G-string. The gold
chain disappeared inside it and she caught a glimpse of a
third gold ring. The heat rose within her as she realised that
the foreskin of his penis was pierced in the same way as his
nipples and that the three centres of arousal were linked by
that simple arrangement of fine gold chains.
    The music surged into several ever increasing peaks as he
danced and whirled towards the back of the stage, adroitly
avoiding the hands which grasped at him all along the catwalk.
The crowd went wild as, half way down it, he dropped onto
his stomach and performed several, effortless press ups in a
blatant simulation of the copulatory act.
    Maggie felt weak as she imagined herself under that firm,
thrusting body, the thick black hair falling over her face as he
drove into her. She could not have dragged her eyes away from
him even had she wanted to as he rolled and jumped lightly
to his feet, retreating to the back of the stage.
    As he reached the back curtain, the blue smoke began to
gather around his feet and slowly rise. The music built to a
crescendo as, with perfect timing, he peeled the tight G-string
down his legs and his leashed cock sprang up, held in tension
by the chain which attached it to his nipples.
    A collective gasp rose up from the audience as it swelled
and grew, a magnificent animal which was all too soon
concealed by the swirling blue smoke which rose up and
obscured him. By the time it had cleared, he had gone.
    Maggie did not hang about to watch the energetic young
himboes who exploded onto the stage the moment the soloist's
music had died away. The image of that huge, hard cock was
indelibly printed on her memory. 'Later' would be too long – she
wanted the man in blue, and she wanted him now !
    It was easy to find him. Along the corridor which ran behind
the stage there were three doors. Two were standing open
and a glance inside told her that their occupants were even
now strutting their stuff front of house. Costumes hung neatly
on hangers in order of wear, everyday clothes lay haphazardly
in heaps over chairs and on the floor. A large crate of beer
stood half empty and, in one room a heavy fug of stale cigarette
smoke hung in the air.
    The third door was firmly closed. A hand written plaque was
hanging from the doorknob with a cartoon star and 'Electric
Blue' written in a bold, sloping hand in black ink. Maggie
hesitated for a