Collide Gamer

“Not much of a contest, is it?” John asked.

The Gamer was inside a moderately sized party tent. It had a bar on one side and a large stage in the middle. The trampled dirt around proved that it had been used recently. Yet, at this time, it was occupied only by one man and 27 women.

“It’s a massive contest,” the organizer of the whole thing disagreed. “I would’ve made it public, but I got a bunch of pushback on it.”

“As I have stated, if you desired to make it a public matter, you were at liberty to do so.” Lydia crossed her arms over her moderately sized chest. Like every other haremette present, she wore a white t-shirt and denim short shorts.

Both articles were too small. The top was cropped to show much of their midriffs and the tight denim pants left so much of their ass exposed that they were barely more than panties. The button of the waistband didn’t even have an opening to be put through. No zipper had been put into place either, leaving the pants seductively open, the womb tattoos exposed.

“Your pool of participants would have shrunk accordingly,” Lydia finished the reminder. “Which should not be surprising to you in the slightest. Not all of us are exhibitionists that care to besmirch their reputation with such public debauchery.”

“First…” Rave raised her little finger, “…I’m an empress too, so my reputation’s as important as yours.”

“In another timeline, this might be true, but we are not in that timeline.”

“B…” She raised up the little finger of the other hand as well. “Ya literally are going to get publicly bred.”

“A one-time privilege, not a point of indulgence.”

Salamander butted her way into the conversation by quite literally swinging her red ass against Lydia’s. “Wasn’t there a time where ya greeted some important guy with cum all over your face?”

“That was the exact opposite of a multiplier on my pleasure. I did it as a point of political reality.”

Lu Zhi snapped her fingers. Immediately, the 28th woman in the tent peeked her head over the edge of the bar. “A-at once!” Daiyu stammered, understanding whatever order had been given.

It was truly awe-inspiring that a woman could stumble this much and yet not waste a single drop. Though, to be fair, Daiyu was a water mage. Keeping the liquid inside the singular glass of blue beverage steady must have been well within her power. With a bow, the servant offered the drink to the Heavenly Jade Empress.

“Lydia is simply correct, no matter what you wish to say.” The imperial tomboy took the glass, then reclined on her seat: one of the round tables by the bar. A hand behind her gorgeous butt stabilized her, while she scratched the sole of one foot with the back of the other. “Though we enjoy a reputation of brashness, we are not at liberty to present ourselves so openly in a public setting. This way, we get to show off to the one guy that matters.”

Lu Zhi shot John a light smile. The uniform of the day looked really nice on her, as everything did, and the fact that her hair was undone made her entire face look different. What a contrast loose strands of hair could weave.

“Is this all for me?” John asked. It was a joking question at first, but the nods and eyebrow wiggles he got afterwards painted a different picture. “Really? I appreciate it, don’t get me wrong, but I would like it a lot more in a week where I can act on what I see afterwards.”

“It’s ‘cause of what ya do later,” Rave responded. “Bachelor’s nights have strip club visits, right? Thought we’d give ya something better… Plus, I wanted a wet t-shirt contest at my wedding. It’s all coming together.”

“No idea if Max planned one of those, but… you are absolutely right. This is always going to be better. Just the quality of the women here alone.” He let his gaze wander over the vast crowd around him, each face and body as gorgeous as the last. For some the slutty shirt and short short’s combo was common, for others it was a stark break from the norm. In all cases, it was hot as hell. Daiyu hid from his eyes by putting the tray up. She was out anyhow, wearing the usual, black Chinese dress that Lulu liked to put her in. “I’ll just sit here and enjoy the show then.”

John plopped down on the armchair that stood on what usually was a dance floor. With a flick of a thought, Scarlett activated the boxes, which began to play some cheesy electronic beat. Rave raised a microphone to her lips. “Alrighty, gal pals and tiger, welcome to the first ever harem-wide wet t-shirt contest!”

“That’s just wrong,” Nathalia shouted, loud enough to be heard by everyone. “We had several similar events before.”

“Sure, Nathy, but those weren’t the entire harem, so shush!” Rave responded with the privilege of the microphone. “We remind everyone that this tent is currently under layers of lockdown. Both Nightingale and Nia did the rounds, so we can be as sure as we can be that no one’s spying on us. It’s just our horny butts in here, so go wild!”

To lead by example, Rave pushed a hand into the open shorts, moaning the second her fingertips made contact with her pussy. The trill was so wanton, so clearly needful, that the desire that he held at bay well the last three and a half days came flooding right to the forefront of John’s mind. His cock surged to full mast, watching the first love of his life grind against her fingers with a need that proved she had kept to the same abstinence as he had – and it was driving her to heat.

“I looooove holding speeches while masturbating, fuck,” Rave let out the rare curse. Shuddering, she raced towards release, only to suddenly stop. Desperate breaths right into the microphone had the entire crowd mesmerized. Hard nipples poked through the fabric of white shirts all over. John’s cock felt like it was in a straight-jacket. “Here’s… the rules,” she forced herself to continue. “Get up here, get wet, do your thing, get off once the song is over – John picks the winner at the end. That simple. Momo you’re first!”

“Uh… o-okay.” Atypically meek, the fairy maid hovered up to the large stage. She didn’t even remember to strike a pose, just bashfully stood there as the various pumps within the stage came to live. Water was sprayed in a fine mist into the air, catching the multitude of coloured lights dancing in the air, tied to the beat of the simple techno song. Jets of water squirted from other holes all over. Hoses offered a direct way to get drenched in seconds.

Momo did not register any of it. Her white eyes were off to the side. One arm was behind her back, grabbing the other just above the elbow. She wasn’t frozen, though she was shivering – trembling from head to toe. John knew it wasn’t the water, he could feel the lukewarm air from the mist from where he sat.

Mustering just a bit of courage, she glanced at John. The seconds their eyes crossed, the restraint within both of them cracked. John felt it like a physical force in his chest.

Momo suddenly began to dance. Her lavish hips swung in wide circles. There was still embarrassment on her face, but it was subdued by a shameless joy that spread her pink lips. She strutted towards the edge of the stage, letting the jets of water hit her while she shook her ass for his viewing pleasure. Hands glided over her chest, sticking the fabric to her pale skin. Her pink nipples were clearly visible through the wet fabric.

Her hands continued further down, until… her moth-like wings spread wide from the shock of touching her sensitive cunt. The jolt of motion sent droplets of water flying, illuminated by fae light that originated from nowhere. Amidst the spectral halo, the pear-shaped figure of Momo failed to do what Rave had done before. Right there, for everyone to see, she was dancing and fingering herself to completion.

“Ah! Ah! Mmhhhmmm… Master!” The moment she cried out his title was the moment the climax hit her. “Master! Please, watch your maid climax, Master!” she kept invoking his name, spasming with a fresh wave of ecstasy each time. Her thick thighs trembled as she struggled to keep her balance.

John feared not even the powerful enchantments on his underwear would be able to keep up with the raw overproduction of precum he experienced in that moment. He lost all of his clothes at the tap of a button. He would have been able to go the full week, he truly believed that. However, that was if he wasn’t being teased by women seemingly more desperate than he was.

Momo continued to cry his title and pump her fingers in and out of her cunt until her song ended and Rave’s voice spoke into the silence, “Nathalia’s turn.”

The two words snapped the maid out of her entranced state and she blushed crimson. All the same, her relief was palpable. Even hovering, it looked like she had a spring in her step after that.

The undisciplined display from Momo broke whatever silent accord there had been. John knew that his women had been depriving themselves of masturbation for the last couple of days. A dom’s intuition was acute in this and he knew the signs, had observed them every time he had put the orgasm lock on Lorelei again. The increased frequency of needful touching, the bit lips, the panting at a simple ass grab – he could swear he could even smell their pure, suppressed arousal by this morning.

Perhaps this ‘contest’ had always been meant as a midway relief point… no, that would have been to think Rave had planned this consciously. Subconsciously or by coincidence, his almost wife had put together an event that could only end in all of them getting some of their overpowering nymphomania out of their system.

Nathalia had not even an ounce of shame. She grabbed a hose on her way up, placing the thick plastic between her legs and dragged it through her cameltoe. Just the vibrations of the flowing water was enough to make the hyper-sensitive dragoness howl. The tip of the hose was soon at the level of her hips and she stroked it to the harsh, electronic beat. Water gushed upwards, raining down on her, drenching her tall, curvaceous form. Her huge tits swayed, the translucent fabric hiding so very little.

Yet, even that was too much for Nathalia. Grabbing the white t-shirt with both hands, she ripped it open. The tattered remains were a soaked jacket, framing her now freed breasts. She mauled one tit with desperate, lustful intent, then turned around. She ripped the shorts off as well, leaving her effectively naked. Her fingers penetrated her cunt. Though she was masturbating, she did not forget to perform for him either, her cheeks smacking to the percussive beat.

The song ended. John’s lungs were expanding and contracting rapidly, as if he had been up there dancing with her. Nathalia continued to finger herself even as she walked off the stage. She was unlikely to stop before the whole event was over.

“Ehtra, get up there!” Rave announced, her voice loaded with anticipation.

John managed to take his eyes off the angel for just long enough to snap on whoever was closest. “You,” the singular word had enough authority behind it to make Scarlett go straight as a ramrod. “Handjob.”

“…If you need it that bad.” The brat managed to maintain her attitude, even as she hastened over. Neither of them were in a state of mind for teasing.

Ehtra spread her wings just as the waterworks, paused between the songs, reactivated. It was an impressive opening to what started as a harsh, even tribal dance. Each thrust of her hips and lunging step sent droplets of water off her dark brown skin. Her three braids flew through the air, moving with the sharpness of arrows. Yet, for all of the militaristic splendour, the undercurrent was clear. As her shirt soaked through and the cropped shirt turned into a semi-translucent glove for her huge tits, the First of Hatred succumbed to her desire. In a sudden motion, she pushed down her shorts and gave in to her need. Like a woman possessed, she flicked her clit at a blurry speed, screaming, “MASTER!” just as the tension unloaded in a squirting climax. The spasming was every bit as much a dance as what had preceded it.

John’s knuckles were white, grabbing the armrests of his chair. It took everything in him not to grab Scarlett’s head, to fuck her face with the reckless abandon that her open lips craved. Barely, they both held to the pact. The slightly artificial, yet warm and soft texture of her doll-like hand pumped up and down his shaft, precum lubricating every motion.

By the end of Ehtra’s dance, he was already at the edge. His cum surged up his shaft, a breach in a dam that led to a high pressure torrent. Scarlett barely managed to close her eyes before the first jet of thick cum lay across her features. Dutifully, she kept on pumping while more followed. Low groans escaped John with every spurt, his body awash with relaxation and tension in equal measure. A weight was lifted off his soul. Simultaneously, he was reminded of the craving he had ignored.

When the last drop of cum dripped onto Scarlett’s hand, the face of the redhead was covered in an obscene amount of it. “Qu…ick…sho…t…” she managed to whisper, though there was absolutely no bite to the bratty insult. Her outstretched tongue licked the seed off her hand. She moaned like a wanton cumslut.

Suddenly, a multitude of other women were around them. Ravenous, Eliana, Claire, Aclysia, Beatrice and Nightingale pulled the redhead to the ground. Lesbian sex was out, but no one had the will to even pose the question if cleaning the cum off another haremette was a violation of their self-imposed abstinence. There were rules for themselves that just weren’t just to impose.

Momo had broken the seal, but the scent of John’s cum in the air deepened the certainty. His still hard cock throbbed with the need for more. They had only gotten three displays covered so far, leaving twenty-four to go. The one orgasm had left him feeling lighter, borderline invincible, but there was so much more weight to be lifted. The heat in his women’s eyes reflected the same need.

‘An indirect orgy, that’s novel,’ the Gamer thought with a grin.

And the show continued.