The cameraman came close to film Reuben's dick from above, so the audience could clearly see the numbers on the tape. Reuben loosely took his cock in hand around the base and smoothed the fabric over, trailing the fingers of his other hand along the back of his erection and reveling in the exhibitionism of it all. The Examiner checked, and turned to the King to mouth a figure, which he relayed to the crowd:
' Nine inches, ladies and gentlemen! That's a hell of a number to beat!' he exclaimed, over the audience's cheering. 'You can go be proud of that meat in the first Plowers' Contact Point. Great job.'
With a jaunty wave goodbye, Reuben exited into the wings. He felt his chances were pretty good, and had an extra pep in his step as he walked over to the partition that had been set up to divide the backstage area. The wall was thin, with twenty circular cut-outs at crotch height and a few thin foam bricks for the shorter guys to make up the difference. It was a pretty classic gloryhole set-up, and he knew he'd have to make the best of it: the nature of the Festival meant the Plowers only got one Contact Point experience, so he wouldn't have another chance at feeling anonymous hands and lips all over his fucktool. With a hungry smile, he stepped forward and eased his prick and balls through the hole, as he heard more guys make their way over.
Meanwhile, Dorothy took full advantage of the chance to cool off. With two orgasms in quick succession under her belt, she felt overstimulated, but relaxed, able to enjoy some fresh fruit and water backstage. When she was sitting with Thea and Natalie, all three lined up on a bench completely naked, it felt like a weird version of sitting out gym class, where they'd talk and share a few laughs.
They were still doing that, but now, they were discussing the intricacies of the sexual favors they'd experienced, and the craziness of the whole process.
'My Examiner was so fucking good with his hands,' Natalie said, between much-needed gulps of water. 'Imagine what he's like with his cock. I kinda want him to fuck me instead of a Plower!'
Dorothy thought about getting fucked by Dr Turner, and although the idea of her sweet old neighbour rutting between her thighs to pump her full of little swimmers made her feel strange, it also lit a spark in her well-massaged clit. She dismissed the thought, and leaned forward to better see both her friends at once. 'I just hope I get paired up with the Plower who ate me out. I think – I dunno, I just have this feeling he's the same guy who made my boobs feel so good.'
'If he is, then it's gotta be fate,' Thea said, half joking.
At that point, a beep sounded through the area, and the women quickly got to their feet. Natalie smirked, just as the curtain drew back to reveal a wall of stiff pricks of different lengths and colors, balls garlanded beneath, sometimes resting on the bottom edge of the glory hole. 'One way to find out, I guess. See if you can spot him in the line-up.'
'That's not fair! I haven't even felt his – dick,' Dot replied, embarrassed about saying it out loud. 'How am I supposed to find him?'
'I mean, you think he found you, right? And he didn't know what your tits and pussy look like… unless you're a little more experienced than you've told us.'
She wished she were . This whole Festival was a lot, and though she was sure it would be far more awkward if they were here, she sort of wished her parents could be backstage, too, to reassure her and guide her along. She thought of her father's kind touch and steady presence, how he'd always been so patient teaching her everything when she was little. He'd be just as sweet bringing her into the world of sex.
Instead, she faced a wall of cocks by herself. Which was a good thing! Why was she thinking of her dad now, of all times? Embarrassed, she sighed and stepped forward, encouraged by her friends' cheers. There were twenty cocks in front of her, and plenty of Breedmaids were already picking one to admire close up. Most of the women wouldn't stick to one penis for the whole Contact Point, but still, Dot didn't want to miss her chance, and hurried down the line with a keen eye.
Dorothy had never seen a hard-on in real life before, and the only man she'd seen naked was her dad – and he'd definitely not been aroused. It was different from seeing cocks in porn, tantalizing and real , and she was surprised by the variety. One glans could be almost purple while another was bright pink, the shafts varied so much in length and thickness, and the sight of beading precum made her mouth water. She was fascinated, and spoiled for choice.
Then, one in particular caught her eye.
She hadn't seen it until then because it had been buried in her old teacher's throat, but Dorothy happened to glance over just as Mrs Ingram was releasing it, inch by inch emerging from her lips until an impressively long, thick cock was bared before Dot. It was spit-shined, twitching in anticipation, with an olive tone and heavy, hanging nuts. It wasn't just big, it was perfectly proportioned, as though it had been sculpted rather than grown organically. More than anything, she was struck by an odd sense of familiarity that immediately attracted her, that made the intimidating, hefty erection seem more reliable and solid than scary – and she had no idea those feelings came from an instinctive recognition of her father's prick, even though she'd only seen it limp.
Dorothy quickly dropped to her knees to take over from Mrs Ingram before anyone else could beat her to it. Since men were disqualified from Kingship if they came, women were somewhat limited in what they could do to their dicks. They couldn't outright jack them off, but they could examine and massage the cock and balls to their heart's content. They could kiss and lick it, but if they took it in their mouth, they had to stop and give up their turn within thirty seconds, closely monitored by a nearby Examiner. That suited Dorothy fine: she was turned on, but more than anything, she was curious.
Tentatively, she put her slim hand around the thick shaft, surprised both by how soft the skin was and by the powerful jolt of arousal that went through her. She felt the solid core, rigid with lust, and the spongy head, fascinated by the textures and the gradient that shifted to a purplish pink at the tip. The scent was another thing she hadn't accounted for – it was clean, clearly, but she instinctively knew it smelled like sex even though she'd never encountered this warm musk before. Her free hand naturally dove between her thighs, and she moaned quietly as she shyly, cluelessly rubbed her father's prick against her soft cheeks, kissing the head. When slick precum started to smear against her face and lips, without thinking, she let her wet pink tongue swipe the beads away and tasted the essence of a man for the first time.
Feeling the cock pulsate and twitch in her grasp was strange and erotic. The knowledge that her actions were causing another person pleasure, that both of them were basking in the same kind of fuzzy, urgent fucklust – it gave her an unexpected rush of power and fulfillment. The pre was a little bitter on her tongue, and her pussy clenched in anticipation of feeling that prick stretch her insides. All of that, and she didn't even know she was licking her daddy's erection.
Dorothy spent a long time fondling herself and getting to know this cock, increasingly certain that it belonged to the Plower who'd made her orgasm earlier. She was too absorbed in pressing her lips to its length to notice the impatient, envious gazes of the women around her – they wanted a turn, too, but she hadn't done anything to make the Examiner cut her off, and sooner than anyone wanted, a sound signaled the end of the Contact Point.
The noise of the alarm made Dot flinch, letting go of the prick, which bobbed down only a little, kept straight out in the air by the power of its horniness. Dorothy smiled at that, hoping she'd done a good job, now deliberately ignoring the sour looks of some of the other Breedmaids. She stood up, unwilling to go, yet knowing they were getting ever closer to the fateful breeding ceremony. As a parting move, she took the heavy balls in her hand, thrilled by their weight, and massaged them. They were brimming with impatient potential life, and though she didn't know she was handling a sack full of her siblings, she was turned on beyond belief and planted a quick kiss to one nut before letting go.
On the other side of the partition, Reuben pulled his dick out of the hole in the wall, and watched the precum slowly ooze out his pisshole and stretch down, hanging off his tip like a clear, elastic string of liquid sex.
The girl discovering his prick was clearly inexperienced. He could tell by the loose grip she had on his shaft, and the tentative way she pressed her lips against every surface of it, even in the way she didn't quite seem able to handle his cock and balls at the same time. Before she came along, he'd been handled by a woman who knew what she was doing, probably an older slut who'd perfected her technique and lived to suck dick – and he'd had a great time having his tool embraced by her hot throat and teased by her clever tongue. The second girl wasn't skilled , but she was enthusiastic, and the mixture of hesitance and lust turned him on just as much as an accomplished cumslut's treatment.
Pleasure from a woman with a higher body count was direct, but a lot of the delight of someone new to sex was in the context . While the girl he didn't know was his child played with his dick, he thought about his own first experiences, of being young and virile and how he was introducing somebody to the addictive world of fucking. There was a chance this girl was older, but in all likelihood, she was around his daughter's age, maybe his daughter's friend, maybe a girl he'd watched grow into a woman and whose cherry he'd claim later that night. Maybe the owner of the succulent tits and cunt he'd sucked and groped earlier.
'Someone's happy,' one of his fellow Plowers commented when he joined one of the two backstage lines, a grin on his lips and prefuck dribbling from his twitching prick. They were headed to the final Trials, now, and the men were divided into those who'd busted their nut already and those who remained eligible for the title of King. This was the closest Reuben had come to climaxing, and he knew how easily he could trip up at the finish line – but he was having such a good time it was hard to control his boner at this point.
'I've really missed out for twenty years,' Reuben said, trying to stop his hips from rocking into the empty air. 'I mean, I love fucking my wife, and I figured I had to keep it kosher to be a good dad and husband and all, but I haven't felt this alive in forever.'
'Nothing wrong with a release valve once a year,' the guy replied, 'just so long as you let some of us get the crown once in a while, huh?'
'No promises,' he joked, just as the reigning King called both lines onto the stage. Only eight of the twenty Plowers remained in the running. By the close of this Trial, that number would be halved, and from the final four, the man with the best overall performance would move on to the final selection stage. Reuben was confident in his track record, so it all came down to the next round.
'Luckridge, this is the make-it or break-it moment!' the King announced into the mic, prompting applause. 'The eight Plowers you see standing center-stage have managed to keep their swimmers in their sacks and their cocks stiff and proud. And we're seeing some very impressive precum fountains.'
His eyes were on Reuben's painfully hard boner when he spoke, and Reuben made sure to stand straight, cock proudly thrust forward. The clear slick dribbling from his pisshole pattered on the stage floor, desperate to be released.
'The other twelve contestants have nothing to be ashamed of, either. Who among us hasn't shot off a little early? In these circumstances, it's a superhuman effort. The fellas know what I'm talking about,' the King continued, raising his eyebrows. 'How about a big hand?'
The audience clapped, with a couple of particularly enthusiastic members hooting and cheering for the eliminated Plowers – wives, mothers, daughters, and friends, proud their loved ones had made the cut in the first place. The King signaled for the noise to die down.
'Don't feel too sorry for 'em, they've got a heck of a consolation prize coming their way. But first… let's pair up our eight finalists for the last Trial!'
The Queen walked out of the wings, bearing a smile and a pot holding eight wheat stalks. The grain was symbolic of the whole Festival, and its old ties to the harvest. Stylized drawings of wheat featured on official Festival correspondence and merch, and Luckridge's flag prominently featured a stalk at its center. The King welcomed his wife with a deep kiss, and spoke as she affectionately fondled his cock through his pants and the eight Plowers plucked a strand from the container.
'Each of these stalks has a number tag stuck to its base. The Plowers who pull the same number will face off in a handjob showdown, and whoever manages not to blow will go to the ultimate selection stage. Pretty straightforward.' He turned to the guys, half-hard himself from the Queen's wicked fingers. 'Who's got number one?'
Reuben raised his stalk, as did a younger guy a few Plowers down. He knew the kid from the home improvement store downtown, the son of the owner, who was taking a few years to find himself after college. They didn't move in the same circles, but Reuben knew his dad, who often remarked on his Johnny's ease with women and how he'd have found his calling by now if he could make a living screwing. On one hand, he was young, in his mid-twenties, and he was likely to spurt easier – on the other hand, if he was as much of a player as he was rumored to be, he probably had good control of his pipes.
Either way, Reuben wasn't going to lose this late in the game. If he made it through, he knew he'd be crowned Festival King, and his powerful dick would create life inside a beautiful woman by the end of the night.
Examiners wheeled on a strange piece of furniture, which looked like two lounge chairs connected at the bottom end, with armrests and angled backs so that the Plowers could sit up and watch what would be done to them. The traditional position was a little odd, but it was ingrained enough that nobody batted an eye: Reuben and Johnny took their spots across from each other on the sofa, and slotted their lower bodies in something like a scissoring set-up, though only their thighs touched, stiff pricks pointed at the ceiling. It was important that the cocks and nuts face each other, symbolizing true man-to-man competition.
The Queen lubed her hands up with plenty of shiny, warm massage oil, and knelt down to give herself prime access to the dicks. 'I've been looking forward to this all day,' she declared, before enveloping both erections in her silky soft grip.
Then, she started jerking them off in tandem.
The Queen's technique was fantastic, and Reuben wondered if they had to undergo some kind of special training for this part of the Trials, or whether she was just naturally talented. Her fists went up and down the poles in a steady rhythm, holding on tight the whole length of the throbbing shafts with a flick of the wrist as she covered their drooling prickheads. He and Johnny were about the same size, meaning the Queen milked them just the same, and each fuckpole mirrored the other almost perfectly – the main difference was Johnny's uncut tip, foreskin slipping up and over his flushed glans. The presence of this sensitive skin was another point against him in the effort to avoid spilling his seed.
Reuben didn't want to rest easy, however. With the fucklust of hours of edging, the horniness of being jacked off on stage in front of the entire community, the sloppy sounds of fists stroking slick cocks, and the toe-curling pleasure of the Queen's touch on his eager meat, he'd only have to let his mind wander a couple seconds for his load to spurt out. Everything was engineered to make him cum, and he had to fight it.
He thought about work, about tedious chores at home… but in his boned-up state, even as he tried to replay the dullest days of the past couple of months, his mind helplessly fast-forwarded to a recent weekend afternoon, when he'd been relaxing on the couch after a work-out. Dorothy walked in with a basket of laundry, and they'd traded a few playful words before she turned to fill up the machine. Reuben had no reason to keep his eyes on her, at this point. He'd been watching TV up until then.
But he glanced over.
Dorothy wore a short dress, which wasn't particularly unusual or problematic, even though it rode up and exposed her underwear when she bent over to deal with the dirty clothes. She could wear whatever she wanted around the house, and he'd seen plenty of her in states of undress throughout her life without thinking of her sexually.
Until that moment.
Her short skirt didn't just flash her panties, because the crotch had ridden up between her fat pussy lips in a sort of vaginal wedgie, splitting the peach of her cunt. Reuben's jaw fell open, and when he felt a kick in his boxers, he quickly looked away – with little effect, because the sight of her nice round ass was burned into his mind, skirt pulled tight across her cheeks, young pussy in plain view. If she'd been naked, it probably wouldn't have affected him that badly, but the cotton panties were wedged between her lips like a gag, like her sweet teen cunt was a ravenous mouth that needed to be restrained so it wouldn't suck every cock in sight into its muscular, wet warmth.
Now, being expertly jacked off onstage, those same perverse thoughts flooded Reuben's helpless mind, and he felt his balls tighten, the familiar sensation of nearing the edge of orgasm. He'd topple over any second, and be barred from being crowned Festival King at the last hurdle, all because of some bizarre, sick impulses triggered by his own daughter. Maybe he deserved not to win.
It's not something he'd really be able to contemplate, because right before the point of no return, he was startled by Johnny's sudden lustful moan, and seconds later, he watched the cum shoot out of his cock. The Queen chuckled, angling his dick away from Reuben and towards his own stomach, milking his spunk out, layers of hot sperm coating her fingers as he emptied his teen balls with each spasm of his taint.
Her grip loosened around Reuben's cock, and he blinked a couple of times as the King gleefully announced: 'Ladies and gentlemen, we've got our first winner!'
Things happened pretty quickly after that. Johnny and Reuben shared a good-natured handshake and moved to separate parts of the stage, one joining the line of disqualified Plowers, the other stepping onto the raised stage where the final selection would take place. Watching the remaining three handjob duels kept Reuben's cock stiff, and so did scanning the rapt audience, whole families sitting together to eagerly watch these pornographic games. He managed to spot his wife, and grinned. Unlike him, she'd watched the Breedmaid Trials, and she usually had a knack for figuring out who'd be crowned. He was confident he'd be Festival King, and he had no doubt she had a hunch about who he'd be inseminating.