against his front and letting his frantic cock grind its message across her taut tummy.
'A Gypsy boy is love, 'tis true, he ever was and ever will be free…'
Celeste's fabulous voice electrified the lust in Bryan and he trembled violently in Pammy's arms…
'If I love you, beware of me! Beware of me! Beware of me…!'
Transfixed as one person, the crow din the tent watched, stunned and entranced by what they could see without the slightest straining behind the fabulous Celeste.
At midstage Pammy forced her upper body away from Bryan's and bent far back to let the audience see her superlative body profile. Ripe breasts thrust high with tumid nipples wild with… gorgeously straining torso and perfectly tapered legs, molded snugly to the naked front of an athletic young male who was hard put to hold her from wilting all the way to the floor.
'You're going to show me!' gasped Bryan, tightening his grip at the undercurve of impudent buttocks and feeling her strain backward even more determinedly against the palms of his hands.
'I hope so!' Pammy hissed delightedly.
'Oh, God!' Before the mass of delighted viewers, a white column of phallic flesh speared into view. Dark cap, thunderous and swollen, it jutted ominously across the vulnerable middle of a devastatingly arched female.
'Straighten up, damnit!' His hoarse whisper was lost beyond the scrim, but not his determined effort to escape with his dance partner into the safety of the stage wings.
'Bryan… coward! We're supposed to dance all the way back to the other side. It'll spoil Celeste's number. She's counting on you!' She felt stinging tears that he seemed about to chicken out of the full routine they'd planned.
'Think I don't know it?' He was abruptly different, changed in one fragment of a second. In one sudden thrilled instant Pammy knew that Bryan Quinby might be only fifteen by the books, but he was thirty in maturity. He took command and she was his. 'Now, Pamela… NOW!'
His horny hugeness was hot between her thighs and he bent just slightly at the knees to angle for the penetration. In one last second of aloneness in the stage wings with him, Pammy felt the bold cock split through her trembling pussy lips. He was going to take her standing up – try to dance before the theater crowd watching even as he fucked her.
'Do… oh, Bryan, darling… do me! Do!'
Fighting the sweep of her orgasm and knowing she was only a breath away from having to tumble to the floor Pammy tried to follow his lead. A great cramming pole of demanding phallus filled her vagina… brimming ripe with the juices of love… about to erupt like Vesuvius deep in her passion center. And before the whole wide world!
Senses swirling, Bryan's last coherent thoughts were with Celeste, there beyond the scrim. Her coming to their house; her teaching him all he now employed with this girl he knew he loved… wonderful Celeste had readied him for Pammy.
At the lip of the stage, as if she read his mind from that distance, Celeste turned slowly and stared directly through the scrim at him as she sang…
'And think on her, on her who all can see. On a dark-eyed lady, and that love waits for thee.'
Brazenly, before Celeste and the whole music circus tentful of voyeurs, Bryan bent his lovely Pammy backward. Far back at the hips till rich tempestuous breasts were jutting heavenward and her lower body was driven tightly against his. Then as though it had been choreographed to the lines of the song, he drew the writhing, straining girl attached to his front, slowly and firmly away from his cock, forcing her deliberately almost to the tip to expose the great white shaft that connected them. Then he dragged her back with maddening brazenness, ignoring her cry as he impaled her again totally.
A hypnotized audience watched the drama of their copulation, no one daring to breathe. It was as if the entire assembly sensed it was party to a very private moment.
The cry of rapture spilled from Pammy's lips and her head lolled far back, flame hair tumbling freely, touching the floor as Bryan lowered her to the ground. Both, oblivious to audience, were locked in the helpless, beautiful wonder of orgasm, pulsing, writhing, slowly quieting as the house lights brightened and the stage beyond the scrim went dark.
