Disclaimers: I own nothing; I'm just playing with Stephanie's characters and the plot is very loosely based on Channing's teen years.


Prologue

A speaker brought my out of my musing as he went on to introducing their star act, Edible Eddie.
The lights dimmed and a song started, I knew immediately what song it was – Ginuwine, Pony.

My eyes zoomed in on center stage where Edward was standing in baggy sweats and a hoddie clouded in darkness. The spotlight found him and before the first verse of the song sounded, he had discarded his hoddie in a slow sexy move while moving forward on stage, his hair sexy as hell and in complete disarray, now on display. Here he went low in his stance rolling his hips in one of those hip hop moves. He looked so fuck hot in that tight white undershirt and the grey baggy sweats hanging dangerously low on his hips.

Shit! He wears these kinds of clothing all the time at the apartment. Now every time I see him in sweats, I'm going to think about him stripping. Great, just great! I could feel my face heat up and a tinkling sensation in my entire body, the anticipation killing me slowly. Fuck me; I was going to see him as good as naked!

He swerved his upper body in beat with the music faced the crowed sideways and with his arms raised he did a sexy booty shake. God he has the best ass known to mankind! He dropped to floor and started grinding against it in a very suggestive way.

I started fanning my face with my hands, because let's face it, images of Edward having sex flying though my head was too much to handle, and my cheeks were burning up!

He did a back flip of sorts, to get up from the floor and as he stood he removed his undershirt. He dropped to the floor again basically fucking the floor yet again, moving towards the center and the start of the runway.

I have never been more turned on than I am at this very moment. I've never objectified guys before, but right now, what I wouldn't do to have him as my own personal play toy, I could just tell, Edward was guaranteed to be magnificent in bed. Hell I'm on the verge of an orgasm just by looking at him. Hmm… an eyegasm, this must be a first.

His muscular chest, arms and crazy abs were glistening in sweat or oil, or… something. You wanted to run your hands down his magnificent body feeling every muscle in its path. He sat on stage on the two steps leading down to the runway. He lifted his hips, humping the air three times in time with the music before getting up. Here he walked around with a swagger one might say, that beautiful crocked grin on his lips, winking at one of the women in the crowed. God this man was confidence personified, he looked like he didn't have a care in the world and knew how to hold his own, and boy oh boy did he.

He stuffed his undershirt in his baggy sweats, grinding the fabric against his manhood. I think my jar just hit the floor. He took the shirt back out, flipping it out to the audience. A woman my age was screaming like a wild banshee, as she catches the shirt.

I couldn't help but stare at his perfection, those low hanging sweats, resting on his narrow hips, that perfect v of his abdomen traveling downwards with absolutely no hair in sight. His skin looked as smooth as a baby's bottom yet hard as titanium with all that muscle. I was finding it a little hard to stand; I took a seat at a vacant barstool and downed a healthy amount of my long forgotten drink.

He did a couple of dance moves and then went to stand with his back turned to the end of the runway, and in beat with the music he did a got damn back flip off the stage. The crowd went wild. One, what he did was unexpected and not easy to do. Two he was now within grasping range of all the horny women.

He moved sensually to the music and approached the first table, where he grabbed a woman of a chair, her legs placed on his shoulders, her lower stomach towards his face. He carried her like she weighed nothing, his hands cupping her bottom. He laid her down gently on her back on the end of the stage, and started crawling like a predator over her. She was squirming a little but definitely not putting up a fight, and who the hell would? He started grinding his hips mere inches from hers, in a slow and sensual rhythm to the music. Right now every woman in this room wanted to be her, imagining him making slow passionate love to them, me included. I need a cold shower and a clean pair of underwear when I get home.

He got up and began taking his sneakers of with a boyish grin on his face, everyone snickered a little and applauded at that, 'cause there was no sexual way to do that. Once they were of he turned his back to the audience, paused a little then hooked his thumps to the side of his sweats and pulled down in a swift move. Bending forward with straight legs, this gave everyone a very nice view of his thong clad ass. My jaw defiantly hit the floor this time!

Once out of the pants, he crawled over his victim, grinding his member, only restrained by a small thin piece of fabric, again mere inches from her face. And trust me; I didn't fail to notice that he didn't actually touch anybody with his peen, which was pleasant surprise.
Now I've never been keen on blowjobs, but right now, all I could think about was him fucking my face in that slow sensual rhythm. All the women screamed, apparently they had the same thought I did. He looked out towards the crowed, with that damn sexy crocked grin of his.

God, he was going to be the death of me!