Untucked, but Not Unfucked

Before the finale, Mirage still gets the honor of appearing in one more episode. In LaLaPaRuza she has to show off her acting skills — that means learning the lyrics to nine songs and figuring out how to move on stage. And while moving around has never been a problem for her, as you remember, learning the words can be tricky due to her own laziness. This time, she decides to take it seriously. Fifty thousand dollars, after all, don’t just fall into your lap. She spends the entire day listening to the songs a million times. That doesn’t make her memorize the words completely, but it’s a good start. There’s plenty of time ahead. She keeps up close contact with Curtis and occasionally checks in with her friends. Finally, two days before the event, it hits her — time to move from mumbling the songs to herself to actually practicing properly. She catches on quickly, and the evening before the big event, she rushes to her friends to share the excitement. At the same time, she congratulates them both on making it to the finale. And for all of this, credit goes to Mirage. If she hadn’t expressed her wish to see them in the finale the first night she met Plane, who knows how things would have turned out? She finds the couple whispering at the doorway. Hey, you two will have your privacy once you leave the hotel! She enthusiastically congratulates the lovers on the important moment in their careers, but Nymphia pushes them both aside and sends everyone off to sleep. Sleep? With such a perfect reason??? The reason is for a meeting, not drinking, of course. Mirage isn’t so reckless as to get wasted the night before LaLaPaRuza. Yes, yes. But Nymphia is firm, and Plane leads Mirage away. “Looks like she’s nervous about the finale,” Mirage remarks, glancing at Plane. She says with surprise, “Do you think so?” “Of course. Did you see her tense look? I wouldn’t be surprised if she spends the whole day tomorrow stressing out.” “I didn’t even notice…” Plane blushes. “Ah, friend,” Mirage ruffles her on the shoulder. “You still have a lot to learn about empathy. And if you don’t hurry, you’ll miss your happiness and make Nymphia suffer too.” Mirage, for someone who’s never been in a serious relationship, is remarkably perceptive. “So what should I do then?” “Show her how much she means to you. And do it with your mouth. I see you’re not much for talking.” Plane swears she’ll handle things with Nymphia and disappears into her own room. Mirage, hoping to spend the evening with her friends, is at a loss. What to do now? I hate it when others ruin my plans. Curtis? Andreas? Thomas? Only two days left. She doesn’t feel like drinking. Surprisingly, she doesn’t feel like fucking either. The only option left is to order some crappy food (going to Curtis for restaurant delivery would be disrespectful) and lie down to watch TV. That’s how she falls asleep with a slice of pizza in her mouth. She’s woken up for filming by a loud knock at the door. What’s the point of having a phone here if they can just wake me like this? And why wake me at all? Let me sleep. I’m not in a hurry. Or am I? Wait, stop. Mirage has gotten so used to doing nothing that she forgot about early wake-ups for filming. “I hear you, I hear you,” she grumbles, sliding off the bed. The knocking on the door continues. “I’m awake, damn it! I’m getting ready. Here I go, rushing and stumbling.” She has to open the door — Curtis is standing there with a small bouquet and a wide smile. “Good morning, gorgeous! This is for you,” he says, handing her the flowers. “Congratulations on getting back into the show.” Mirage inspects the gift skeptically and snorts. “Sounds sarcastic.” “Oh, come on!” Curtis shakes his head energetically. “What sarcasm?” “They brought me back for one episode, just so someone would remember me. And don’t argue. By the way,” Mirage glances at the clock, “thanks for waking me up early. I totally forgot about the alarm.” “Well, I know how hard you sleep…” he winks. “You didn’t come here for a quick fuck, did you?” Mirage frowns. Curtis looks startled. “No, of course not. We all have work soon. I just wanted to cheer you up before the competition.” “Well, look at you, little rascal,” Mirage tugs on his tie as usual. “See you tonight? One last time.” “You can read my mind,” the boss grins. “I’ll order us something special.” “You do realize I’m not coming for the food, right?” “I’ll get the best wine,” Curtis assures her. “That’s not what I meant!” Mirage exclaims. “What kind of ridiculous assumptions are these?” “I got it. You’re in for the most romantic night. Full of passion and oozing…” “Okay, okay,” she interrupts. “I got it. I’ll come by myself tonight. I hope you’re not too upset that I won’t take first place?” “Are you kidding?” Curtis replies, mock-offended. “You’re already number one in my heart.” Mirage snorts and adds, “Make sure to grab plenty of wine.” She doesn’t get first place, of course, but she aces the first round and shines pretty well in the second too. But remember, she didn’t go there for the win. Besides the future fame, she gained friends, a sea of booze, and three handsome men. The last two — the booze and the men — are already waiting for her in the suite upstairs. Curtis, what a sweet guy! He meets Mirage at the table, dressed in a fresh suit. It’s unclear why it had been lying around before. Alongside his favorite whiskey, there are two bottles of wine in sight. The assistant seats her and begins tending to her: serving dishes, pouring drinks. Curtis, do you have some kind of feeding fetish? Learned that at grandma’s, huh? He settles into his chair and raises his glass. “Well then, here’s to a wonderful time spent together. I’m glad we managed to combine work with an extremely enjoyable pastime.” “And I’m so glad!” Mirage quacks, nibbling on the lemon garnish of her trout. “I think a promotion might be in your future. You’ve got such hardworking boys on your team. You trained them well — you can tell exactly who put in the effort.” Curtis spreads a smile, flattered by the kind words, and downs the glass. Light chatter about future plans ends pretty quickly. The man drags Mirage to the bed, not even bothering to take off his clothes. He rubs through his pants like a schoolboy and whines. Well, this is new, Mirage thinks, already dreaming of being inside him. But the assistant doesn’t rush to strip, teasing her almost on purpose. He just shifts more, grinding. Finally, Mirage breaks away and skillfully pulls off his pants, revealing his bare body. Quite a show… she thinks. She, like a good girl, remembered to put on her panties. And that’s too bad. By the time she wriggles out of her tight clothes, Curtis is already jerking himself off. “Out of your mind?” Mirage snaps. “These hands are driving me crazy.” She twists his hands behind his back with one hand. With the other, she awkwardly squeezes some lube onto her fingers and enters the ass she’s been prepping over the past few days. She’s compared the sweet couple to rabbits, but she’s no better herself. Curtis hasn’t had a moment’s peace — all at his own request, naturally. The boss impatiently wraps his legs around her hips, pulling her closer. Mirage curses and slowly enters him, keeping his hands pinned to the bed. He moans, sounds that charm her completely. She doesn’t have to rock back and forth for long, and soon she’s pounding openly into her lover. The alcohol quickly brings a wave of fatigue; she wants to lie down, and her arm is already going numb. Pulling Curtis onto her, she rolls onto her side, and now the assistant is on top. Mirage exhales in relief, but it’s too early to relax. The man, delighted with the freedom, bounces joyfully, occasionally pressing his lips to his queen’s. Whether because of the honor given or the favorable position, Curtis lets out a victorious cry and cums, not thinking about taking care of Mirage. She hadn’t planned to cut the fun short so soon, and he could’ve at least controlled the process. Mirage clicks her tongue, feeling drops of cum on her face. The man wipes them away with the back of his hand and kisses her. Dissatisfied with the last events, she lifts him off her and flips him face down on the bed, continuing to fuck him. Now, if Curtis goes again, only his sheet gets messy. And he, being such a stud, intends to. He positions his hand where it needs to be and goes to work. He occasionally yelps at Mirage’s expertly honed movements. She feels it’s almost over and digs her nails deeper into his hips. Did I mention her nails are usually long? She doesn’t like to remove them. And with LaLaPaRuza on top of that, Curtis’s poor legs. At another groan from the man, Mirage loses it and comes, pressed tight against his back. Then she helps the worker finish the performance completely. And that’s it. Two perfect months in confinement. Wonderful evenings with new friends. Glorious days in hot embraces. Unmatched hours at feasts. Mirage, of course, knew she wouldn’t sit still. Not her style. But she didn’t expect experiences this vivid. Ahead — popularity, tons of work, and plenty of fun.