All characters in this story are over 18 and all sexual acts are consensual.
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"Everyone put one hand up in the air and wave goodbye to each other," Emma said, as a dinosaur and a pirate skipped circles around her.
She smiled at the thousands of children and parents waving back at her, but really all she wanted to do was cry.
It was her second show on tour with The Wiggles, and she'd completely messed up the Big Red Car medley. Lachy would understand, and Simon might make fun of her in a brotherly kind of way, but Anthony... Anthony would hate her more than he already did.
She didn't know why, either. They'd barely spoken to each other at all since she'd graduated from the Dorothy suit to the yellow Wiggle, so she couldn't have offended him. But somehow she had and, while he was kind and relaxed with Lachy and Simon, he was brusque, aloof and even rude with her. Maybe it was because she was a girl, the first female Wiggle, she reflected as they filed into the green room.
"Nailed it, guys," said Lachy. "The kids loved it!"
"The kids?" said Simon. "You mean the mums, right?" He leered and Emma rolled her eyes. Lachy popped the lids off a few beers and pressed one into her hand.
"Don't worry about," he said quietly. "Those steps, I mean. No one even noticed." Emma smiled gratefully, but across the room, Anthony snorted.
"Yeah, hardly at all," he muttered, loud enough for her to hear. He'd pulled off his skivvy and was left in a dark singlet. With his broad shoulders and arms on display and a sneer on his face, his fans wouldn't have recognized him as the goofy blue Wiggle.
She winced. Why did he always do that? She turned back to her dressing table and took off her bright yellow bow. In the mirror she could see Anthony staring at her. There was no longer a look of disdain in his eyes – it was something else. Their eyes locked and she felt a sudden stirring in her lower abdomen.
Lachy and Simon were chatting about something or other, but she didn't hear them, she was completely lost in Anthony's eyes. He undid his belt buckle, still watching her through the mirror. A shy smile made its way to her lips as she realized what was happening. Slowly, she took out one of her pigtails, then the other, letting her crimson hair fall down her skivvy.
His eyes, locked on hers, hardened suddenly, and he looked away. He dropped his belt on the floor, grabbed his beer from the table and strode towards the door.
"Maybe try learning the steps, yellow," he shot at her, before slamming the door behind him.
Her head swam. She must have imagined it, but just for a second, there had been something in his face other than dislike. Something that had shot straight between her thighs and left her dizzy. She took a deep breath and a few long pulls from her beer.
"I'm just gonna run that dance once more," she told Lachy and Simon, who were opening their second beers.
"Honestly, don't worry about it," said Lachy, but it was half-hearted. He'd already figured out she was a perfectionist and he winked as she slipped out the door.
It was dim in the wings now, the stage hands were long gone, and she picked her way between the set pieces until she was standing on the stage. Half an hour ago the theatre had been packed with kids and, as Simon had pointed out, their mothers, but it was dark and empty now.
She hummed the opening bars of Big Red Car and stepped into the dance. It wasn't like she didn't know it; she'd done it hundreds of times in rehearsals, and seen it done plenty of times before that from the safety of the Dorothy suit. It was Anthony's fault she'd messed up actually. He'd thrown her off right before they'd gone on stage by sneering at her for the hundredth time that day.
She ran through it once without a mistake and was starting again when she heard a noise behind her. She spun round, startled to find Anthony standing in the wings, arms crossed and an unreadable expression on his face.
"What?!" she yelled. "What's your problem? I know I messed up and I'm sorry but that doesn't mean you can treat me like this. Why do you hate me so much?" Anthony continued to stare at her. Emma stared back, blushing furiously. Slowly, purposefully he walked towards her his gaze firmly fixed on hers.
"You're still stiff, you need to relax. Let your hips do the work for you." He walked around her and stopped inches away from her back. She could feel his sweet blueberry breath on the nape of her neck. The heat from his breath seemed to spread inside her all the way down to her lady bits.
"Like this" he said gently putting his hands on her hips, guiding them from side to side. "Toot toot chugga chugga big red car" he whispered into her left ear, slowly bringing her closer to him until his firm cock pressed into her wiggly skirt. She gasped.
"My problem is, Emma," he went on, as his fingers pressed into her hips. "That every time I look at you, my cock gets hard. I can't talk to you without seeing your lips wrapped around me. Your fucking skivvy does very little to hide your body and just being in the same room as you is driving me fucking insane." He grazed his teeth against her neck just under her earlobe and her pussy clenched in response. Knowing he was married, she should have stopped him, but she was completely under the spell of his lips moving over her skin.
"Hey Emma, have you seen Anthony?" Simon called from the wings. Anthony stepped back gracefully just as Simon came into view. His eyes went from one to the other and Emma was sure that he would know what had happened just by looking at her – surely he could see she was dripping and her heart was pounding. She didn't dare look at Anthony.
He didn't seem to have the same problem though. From behind her she heard him say smoothly, "Just helping Emma run through the steps again. Time to go?"
The ride back to the hotel was a blur. She was acutely aware of Anthony further back in the bus and she kept hearing his voice in his head. Every time she thought of his cock pressing against her firm ass, her nipples tightened again and she squirmed in her seat. It was all she could do not to quietly slip her hand under the waistband of her jeans, but still couldn't help a small moan when the driver revved the engine hard.
Alone in her room, Emma dropped her clothes and stepped into the shower. Steam filled the air as she rinsed shampoo from her thick hair. Running a hand down her body, she shuddered as her fingers brushed a stiff nipple. She tugged it gently and her other hand found her swollen clitoris.
She thought of Anthony's throbbing cock impaling her over and over as she massaged her clit with her thumb. She stroked her soaking slit with her middle finger gradually increasing in speed as she raced towards a climax, which, when it came, left her shaking. She collected some of her lady nectar and brought it to her lips, tasting the sweet pussy juice caused by that devilish Blue Wiggle.
The next few days were hard; but not in the way she wanted them to be. She couldn't look at Anthony without thinking of his cock in one of her holes. She was constantly, achingly aroused, and to make it worse, he was cold and unreasonable.
She had no idea that underneath his icy exterior he was in agony too. He tried to act casual but every so often he'd notice her big perky breasts or her spankable ass, and he could feel his member harden.
She had no idea what she did to him. All he could think about was ripping off her skivvy and sucking every inch of her soft, white flesh. He knew it was wrong; he loved his wife and kids, but there was something about Emma that made him go insane.
He spent every night furiously stroking his dick until he exploded ropes of hot cum, wishing it was her hand on him as he climaxed.
Four days later, after a long bus ride and a show riddled with technical errors, the four of them headed back to the dressing room. Everyone was tired and short-tempered, and they'd been snapping at each other all day. Simon had just pulled beers out of the fridge, when a tech put his head around the door.
"Simon, Lachy, they need you for the interview. Like, five minutes ago."
