The Contest: Seven In Seven

by just-this-guy

Copyright© 2007 by just-this-guy

Erotica Sex Story: I was the American representative in The Contest. Seven guys from seven countries. We would travel to each of our seven countries and in seven days have sex with a girl from each country. Seven girls in seven days. Documentation was mandatory. This is my story.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   .

Prologue

"Oh, Jack!" moaned my girlfriend Tiffany as I continued to drive my cock deep into her cunt.

We were in London. We were in London, England to be specific. We weren't in some little American town that happened to be called London. We were in a hotel room in the heart of the capital city fucking our American brains out.

I was here to work a technology conference. Tiffany was absolutely ecstatic when I told her that my employers wanted me to take my wife or girlfriend with me It must have been the simple thought of going to London that caused Tiffany to orgasm so hard that night in our hometown of Los Angeles after I told her about it.

What Tiffany didn't know and what she would never know was I was here for The Contest and its administrators instructed us to bring our girlfriends or wives. In hotel rooms across the city, six other men who were here for The Contest were likely fucking their girlfriends. I doubted any of the men were married. It seemed unlikely. Tomorrow we wouldn't see our girlfriends for seven days.

Tiffany knew she wouldn't see me. It was part of her agreement to come to London. She would think I was stuck living and sleeping at the conference center. She wouldn't be able to contact me. The Contest organizers provided money so she could occupy her time shopping while she was alone. It was a lot of money but it was easy to spend it all if one frequented certain outrageously expensive shops.

"Yes!" I growled as I penetrated completely with a strong stroke.

"Oh, Jack. Yes, Jack! Yes!" she moaned. She was close.

Tiffany and I had been together for nearly two years now and I always knew when she was near orgasm. I thrusted harder and faster so I would cum about the same time she did.

"Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck!" she cried out. Those words were her sign of imminent orgasm.

I groaned gutturally and pressed my cock down forcefully.

"Oh! Oh! Oh!" she shouted. "Yes!" She was in the middle of cumming.

I didn't breath. I continued to press down. I pulled my cock back quickly then slammed it home.

"Ahhh!" I grunted and exhaled hard as my cock exploded cum.

Afterwards, We cuddled and kissed.

"I'm going to miss you," I said.

It was mostly the truth.

If things went right in The Contest, I would fuck seven women I was yet to meet over the next seven days.

I wouldn't go without sex like Tiffany was about to do, however if I was in some strange alternate universe and had to choose only one girl to fuck for the rest of my life it would be Tiffany. The reason I was with her for so long was beyond that she was a sexy, 25-year old brunette with a fantastic body and she was incredible in bed. That type of beauty and sexuality were not hard to find especially where I lived. Tiffany was also smart and had a great sense of humor. When I met her, she worked as a dental hygienist which was way below her abilities yet she still worked there. I asked her out the first day I met her and the rest was history.

"I'll miss you too," she replied. "Have a great conference. Make lots of sales."

"I will," I said. I hoped to sell seven women an interest in fucking me.


It was ten minutes before 8 AM on Sunday morning. I showed my ID card to the two burly guys at the front door. Technically they were domestic servants. In reality they were guards.

"Come," one man said.

I entered and was immediately patted down by the second man. Hey! Too friendly! Much too friendly! Don't touch there! That's what will win me The Contest. The first man ran a wand over me.

"Clear," the first man said.

"Clear," the second man said.

"Place your thumbs."

I was forcibly turned toward the computer console. I put a thumb on each biometric scanner. In a second the screen said, "Accepted."

"Welcome, Mr. Jackson," the second man said.

"Through the door straight ahead," the first man said.

"Thank you," I said. I walked confidently. I was sufficiently mentally recovered from the necessary groping.

"Hello," an old man greeted brightly. I estimated him to be in his 70s. "Welcome, Mr. Jackson. I am Smith."

"Call me Jack." I stretched out my hand.

"I've heard many good things about you."

We shook hands.

A butler approached and gave me a sheet of paper.

Smith said, "That is a list of all the contestants. It is always good to know who you are up against."

I scanned the list. I spotted my name first even though it was the fifth one on the list. My line said my name, age, city, and country of origin.

Jack Jackson, 27, Los Angeles, United States.

Another man approached and said, "Hello there. I'm Nigel. That name right there." He touched the first name on the list. "Six time defending champion."

"Jack Jackson," I replied with a stutter. I was surprised. This man was Nigel?

"Don't be so shocked," reading the expression on my face. "I may be 15 years your senior, but I have experience none of you young children have."

"Nice to meet you," I recovered.

"So you're the American this year?"

"Yes."

He scanned me up and down. "Pity. I was hoping for some real competition this year." He turned and left.

I scanned through the rest of the list of contestants.

Nigel's name was first as he pointed out. He was 42 and was from here in London, England.

The other names were:

Henri, 32, from Paris, France.

Leonardo, 25, from Rome, Italy but we ended up calling him "Lenny".

Dylan, 31, from Sydney, Australia. We nicknamed him "Outback", of course.

Hikaru, 24, from Tokyo, Japan. We called him "Sulu" despite the revelations about the actor's sexuality.

Boris, 29, from Moscow, Russia.

The final two contestants arrived before the clock turned eight, so all seven contestants were in.

Mr. Smith explained the logistics of what we already knew. We would travel for seven days to seven different countries. Each country we traveled to was one of the seven countries represented by each contestant, so everyone had an advantage in one location. We needed to have sex with a native woman from each country by midnight of each night. We only had the day and evening after we arrived at each locale to convince a woman into bed.


We were given our flight information. We would start in Paris then go to Los Angeles. Next was Sydney, Tokyo, Moscow, Rome, and finally back to London.

We were each given covert equipment to record our trysts. It looked like it was straight out of the CIA or MI-5. I'm not at liberty to divulge any additional information about it.


Chapter 1: Paris, France

We took the one hour flight out of Heathrow at noon and arrived at 2 PM. Paris is one hour ahead. I checked into my hotel room and set up to record my union.

I decided to try a nightclub near my hotel. I needed a French woman to qualify. I knew there were a lot of tourists at the local clubs, but there should also be a lot of French women here on business for the various conventions. Just like in America, there would be plenty of men and women away from home looking for something or someone to break the loneliness and monotony.

I spotted a target at the bar. She was a shapely brunette in business attire. She still wore her lanyard that indicated she worked at one of the booths at a hotel conference.

I approached her.

"You look tired," I said, sitting down on her right.

"Yes," she replied in a French accent and eyed me.

Good! She was French and she knew some English. The latter was not unimportant. I wasn't bilingual.

"Working a conference?" I asked.

"Yes." she responded with one word again. She was appraising me.

"Me, too. I like Paris but I get tired of it. Is it the same for you?"

"I like to be home. I am in Paris so much I think I should buy a home here."

I laughed politely then said, "I don't have anyone ... at home, but it's still my home."

"I am alone too and I also like to be home."

"My name is Jack by the way."

"Sophie."

We shook hands then I softly held it.

"I like to meet new friends. You are very beautiful," I said looking at her.

"Thank you."

"Perhaps we can be friends and not be so lonely," I said gently.

"Perhaps," she said and stared into my eyes.

"So where's your conference at?"

"Merleau."

"Merleau? My hotel is the Merleau, but I'm working the conference at LaSalle. Why couldn't they put me in the same hotel as the conference? They cost about the same."

"I'm staying at LaSalle."

She was? Excellent!

"Maybe we should switch rooms?" I playfully suggested.

"Maybe," she said with a friendly smile.

"Or maybe share a room?" I ventured.

"Maybe."

"Shall we... ?"

"Hello!" interrupted Nigel. He sat down on her left. "Is this American being rude to you? You shouldn't bother the pretty lady, Jack."

I responded, "This is my co-worker Nigel. As you can see he has the misfortune of being British."

"What's your name, pretty lady?" Nigel asked.

"Sophie."

"I hope you weren't thinking of going off with this ... this American." He said it as though it was the biggest insult to be an American.

"Nigel. I'm trying to take care of you," I butted in. I looked at Sophie. "Would you consider sleeping with my dear friend Nigel? He's British so he has absolutely no experience with females whatsoever. As you can imagine, he's so very, very lonely."

Nigel gave a timid smile to Sophie after my mocking.

Sophie grabbed my hand and said with a laughing smile, "Come on."

We all stood.

I said to Nigel, "Sorry, buddy. Maybe room service will send up another sheep. See you tomorrow."

Sophie and I went to my room. I covertly activated the recording equipment.

We wasted no time and stripped off each other's clothes. I climbed on top of her and sucked her nipples.

"Ohhh!" she moaned.

She was hot and horny. She needed a man. I nearly made her cum from the few minutes of tit play.

My cock easily split open her pussy lips and slipped inside. I immediately started a firm thrust.

"Oui! Oui!" she moaned and lifted her hips to take my cock deeper.

"Oh, Sophie. Oh, Sophie," I said as I softly stroke her cheek while in contrast I rammed her cunt.

"Oh, oui! Oui!" She increased in volume.

"You're so good," I said. "You're so fucking good."

"Baise! Baise moi! Bien! Bien!"

I didn't care if her words were actually an insult to my mother. It sounded so good coming from her mouth.

"Oui! Baise moi con!"

Damn, that sounded so fucking sexy.

I pushed harder and faster into her sweet cunt.

"Ohhhh!" she moaned out and then trembled beneath me as she came hard.

"Yes! Yes!" I cried out. I grunted hard and unloaded my cum into the depths of Sophie's twat.

After she left, I transmitted my documentation.


Nigel stopped by my seat during the long flight out of Paris to Los Angeles.

"So you gave another bad name to America. The poor French woman," he said.

"What's the problem, Nigel?" I shot back. "Was last night's sheep a lesbian?"

"My good chap, my woman couldn't say enough good things about my performance."

"You had an audience watch you fuck a sheep?" Nigel's expression showed my insult hit. Good! "Sophie will be very disappointed that I'm not around for another night."

"French women were never one for taste. They'll fuck anything that looks remotely like a cock."


Every contestant succeeded in Paris except Boris. He spent a couple of hours plying a woman with drinks. She was hanging all over him and ready to go to his hotel room when her boyfriend showed up. Boris was kicked in a 'delicate' spot. He didn't have the ability to pursue another woman last night. Sometimes luck was more important than skill.


Chapter 2: Los Angeles, United States

A big aspect to winning The Contest was the ability to sleep on airplanes. It was the only way to stay fresh. Our flights to the next location were almost always in the morning and the best time to find a woman to take to bed was in the evening. Sleep had to come on the plane.

We left Paris on Monday at 8 AM and flew for 11 1/2 hours. I slept soundly. We arrived in Los Angeles at 10:30 AM.

L.A. was my hometown. It was a city where women would open their legs for any reason but most didn't need a reason at all. There were so many young women trying to get their Hollywood break. It would be pretty hard not to score with one of them.

I decided to be creative. It was still a surefire way to end up in bed with a pretty girl. They were so gullible when it came to the slightest mention of Hollywood.

I went to a nightclub. I sat on a barstool and faced the crowd and not the bar. I had a notepad and a pen and I scribbled notes about the different women I saw. I wrote down their appearances and the actions they did.

It didn't take long to draw a woman in.

"What are you doing?" a she asked. It was like setting out pollen to attract bees.

I shooed her away with my hands. She was a little overweight and her hair was too short. She would qualify for The Contest but I might as well get someone I was interested in. This was L.A. It wasn't hard to find a sexy starlet wannabe ready to open her legs to any movie or TV possibility.

A blonde approached but I got rid of her too. She looked very good but I preferred brunettes. If on the odd chance I became short on time I could easily pursue her later,

"Hi," a third woman said. It was still within the first ten minutes since I arrived.

"Hi," I answered with a friendly smile. She was what I wanted. She was a slender brunette with large tits. No doubt she got the Hollywood boob job special. Do one boob and get the other half price.

"Are you a writer?" she asked.

"No," I said tersely. "Producer. TV."

"Yeah?" she said with predictable interest.

"Yep," I said, pretending to ignore her.

"So you writing about the night club?" She had to know more.

"Not a writer. Producer."

"So what's the show about?"

"Women."

"Women?"

"Yes."

"So it's a show about women?"

"I'm looking for one woman," I replied with more details. I knew she desperately wanted to hear about it. "An average American woman."

"Average?"

"Right." I turned and faced her. I didn't hide that I looked her body up and down. "I want to do a show about an average woman."

"Like a documentary?"

"A reality show. She's going to become a star. You know, just like American Karaoke makes music stars."

"What a great idea!" she oozed with sugary interest. "So what's the average woman like?"

"Well, she's a brunette obviously."

"Sure." She ran her fingers through her brown shoulder length hair.

"Average height is five foot two." It really was five foot four.

"I'm five two."

"Since this is Hollywood, she can't be fat."

"Of course. She's got to have a good figure." She ran her hands down her sides. "I'm very average."

I opened my eyes wide as if I just noticed her attributes. My eyes settled on her tits.

"Average breast size is 34B to 36C." I shook my head.

"Hollywood wants big tits," she responded. "What if I showed you the special benefits of big tits?" She squeezed them together.

"My name's Jack." I took her hand in mine.

"Christalina."

I kissed the back of her hand. "Is that your real name?"

"It will be when I'm a star."

Twenty-five minutes later in my hotel room, she introduced me to her 38DD tits. I squeezed them vigorously as I aggressively sucked her nipples.

Christalina moaned loudly. I could tell she was acting. I didn't care. The covert documentation was what I cared about. Soon I would satisfy The Contest requirements for today.

I sat on her and placed my cock in her cleavage. "Squeeze those tits together and show me how special they are."

I stroked between her tits.

"Yes! Yes!" she fake cried out.

After a minute of tit fucking, I lay fully on her. I pushed forward and entered her pussy.

"Mmmm," she moaned and this time the sound was for real.

I quickly began to fuck her.

"Oh, yes! Oh, yes!" she moaned.

"Fuck! Fuck!" I groaned.

I rammed her cunt. It was a wild fuck.

"Oh, yes! I'm cumming!" she cried out.

I grunted hard with every slamming thrust into Christalina's cunt.

"Oh, fuck ... yes, baby!" she cried out as she came.

"Unnh!" I groaned deeply. I shot my load into her sweet pussy.

"So what do you think of me?" she asked as we lay gasping.

"You're average," I said.

"What?" she shouted in surprise.

"You're my average woman."

"So I'm in your show?"

"You're my star," I replied. I glanced at the clock. I had time. I flew out of LAX at midnight but it was only the evening right now. "Why don't you suck me hard and show me that you are willing to put in the long days and nights Hollywood requires?"

I fucked her doggy-style.


Henri failed in Los Angeles. No L.A. girl likes a French man.


Chapter 3: Sydney, Australia

It was a grueling 14 1/2 hour flight to Sydney. Well, it would have been grueling, but I managed to sleep through most of the journey and arrived on Wednesday at 9:30 in the morning. Tuesday was essentially skipped.

My hotel was near the beach. A beautiful Australian beach babe would be nice, but what intrigued me and I completely didn't expected to find was a nearby Star Wars convention. I didn't know they had those kinds of freaks Down Under too. Since there was plenty of time in the day, I decided to check out the geeks dressed as Darth and Yoda and Amidala. If I didn't see a potential girl, I would go find a beach bunny to take back to my hotel room.

I paid the admission and immediately saw a gaggle of five Chewbaccas. A herd?

"Hi, Chewie!" I called out.

The first guy sneered and said, "We're ewoks. Look at the ears."

Ewoks? Oh! Must be from the first trilogy. It was too long since I saw it.

Another guy said, "We're on steroids."

They all laughed. Geeks!

I combed the convention hall looking for attractive women. Almost all the guys and three fourths of the women were dressed up. Scary!

I patiently wandered an hour until I finally saw a woman who interested me. She was a brunette, of course. She appeared to be thin and shapely, but it was hard to tell because of the flowing white robe she wore. It wasn't really a robe and it kind of reminded me of a white ninja. I can't really explain the outfit. The strangest thing about her was the cinnamon bun hair on each side of her head.

"Who are you?" I asked to open conversation.

"What do you mean?" she replied

"What Stars Wars character are you?"

"Huh? I'm Princess Leia."

"Uh..." I faltered. Maybe this convention was a bad idea.

"So do you only recognize Leia when she's in the metal bikini?"

Metal bikini? I could have sworn I saw the original trilogy some time, but none of this sounded familiar. My eyes followed her gaze. On the table was a picture of the actress who portrayed Leia in a metal bikini. She was in chains and attached to a giant slug. The scene looked familiar. How could I forget that?

The booth sold replica metal bikinis. Maybe she was at this location to check them out. I had an idea. Maybe this convention wasn't a loss after all.

"I bet you'd look great in that," I said and pointed.

"Ha-ha."

"Really," I said seriously.

She was quieted by my tone. She said softly, "It would be nice to have."

"Go ahead. Be brave like Princess Leia."

"I can't afford it."

My eyes looked at the price. Whoa! More than I expected, but it wasn't too excessive.

"I'll buy it for you. All you have to do is model it in front of me. That's all."

She didn't answer but I could tell she was considering it.

"That's all," I repeated. "I'm serious."

A half hour later, we were in my hotel room. Ella was her name which sounded semi-close to Leia. She was changing in the bathroom. I sat on the bed.

Ella came out. I smiled as I looked her body over. She looked gorgeous.

"Princess Leia has nothing on you," I responded.

She smiled and said, "Thanks."

We were soundless as I looked at her. She slowly spun around completely.

"Wow!" I said.

"This is really mine?" she asked.

"I'm not going to wear it."

Ella giggled.

"Besides," I said "You look so good in it. I want..." I purposefully stopped.

"What?"

"I'm sort of embarrassed," I mumbled.

"Why?"

"My own giant slug suddenly wants to ravish you." I looked down.

There was silence.

"You may," she said.

I looked up as she took off her top.

 
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