Hot off the Press

Teddy's addiction.

When the music started, the roar of the crowd was drowned out. Red lights flashed, smoke billowing from the fog machines on the sides of the stage. The slow beat started, and the silhouette of a person grew large against the curtains as the dancer approached.

The curtains revealed Ad Dixtion, or Addie to those that knew her—long, blood red dress, with a slit showing off her legs. The makeup she wore made all the red vibrant, and her thick head of curls cascaded down her bare shoulders like a waterfall. The crowd screamed their approval, music thundering from the speakers as she grasped a microphone, and held it up to her smirking lips.

"This is for my darling boys." Was all she said, before starting her walk down the strip of stage between the crowd.

Her voice was perfect—alluring and inviting, but sexy and dangerous. She smirked at the crowd between lyrics, twisting her body in the dark lighting just right to cause people in the crowd to shout out at her.

Suddenly, she struck a match, and held it in the air, waiting. The lights dimmed, making the small flame clear in her fingers. The crowd grew quiet in anticipation, then she let it fall at the beat drop.

Her dress went up in flames, and she held out her arms, letting it dissolve to reveal lingerie. Thin, lacy red, with fishnet stockings and fabric that barely contained anything, and the crowd roared as she sang, grinning, soaking in the praise. 

Meanwhile, in the back, were her boys. Husbands of three years in a month. Two of them, one squirming in his spot, eyes on the stage, and the other holding the first in his lap, hand in his husbands's pants.

"She's so hot." The first, Teddy, moaned. "I can't watch."

"She told you to watch, bear." Marcus murmured, fingers gripping the smaller man's base. "Eyes up."

Addie was much more direct with her movements now that she was bare in front of them. She rolled her hips, lifted her arms, got on her knees—anything for the response of the crowd that was eager to give their praise. She craved the affection they gave, and they craved her. They were addicted.

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"Addie!" Freddie, the boss, said, slapping her on the back. "Excellent job tonight. Your boys are waiting in your dressing room."

Addie—Aaron, once out of the drag—had made it very clear that Teddy and Marcus were allowed backstage and in the dressing room whenever they pleased. A security guard—new to the job—tried to stop them once, and it ended...badly.

Before going to the dressing room, the makeup was already being wiped off, and a robe covered the fancy underwear that hadn't been removed. He was Aaron again, but just as stunning.

In his dressing room, he found Teddy bound to a chair with fuzzy pink handcuffs that were used for a show once. A piece of clothing was stuffed in his mouth, and he looked up pitifully when Aaron closed the door.

"Marcus, you didn't start to play without me, did you?" He purred to the man watching from atop the makeup counter. "Look at him, he's straining already."

"That's your own fault." He said, eyes on the two men. "Why don't you take off the robe? I bet he can cum from just looking at you."

"Do you think you can?" Aaron asked, already undoing the belt of the soft robe. He pulled the gag from Teddy's lips, and he let out a whine. "Do you think you can cum in your pants like a naughty boy?"

Teddy looked away, embarrassed. But his eyes strayed back when he heard the robe hit the ground. He saw Aaron and Marcus locked in a deep kiss, hands roaming each other. Aaron, still in heels, was taller than the other man, but would've dominated anyway, Marcus' chin in his hand to keep him pliant beneath him.