by John Merlin
(04/28/04)
The music was pounding as I focused on the woman before me. She was young, but at least eighteen...I hoped. I didn’t want legal trouble, nor potential wife trouble. And if my wife never knew, what kind of trouble could there be? It was a local concert by an immensely popular rock band. I always enjoyed going to these types of shows, because you could go into the general admission section and move around, yet you were generally constantly squished against the people around you -- and if you planned it just right, you could be squished against a beautiful sexy girl rather than an ugly, sweaty, shirtless, fat guy. It wasn’t hard to make up my mind. There were plenty of potentials. Girls who go to these types of concerts are often clothed sexily, and they're looking for throbbing beats, close crowds, and I always hope, strangers with wandering hands.
Her head was bobbing in time with the music, as was mine. It was loud, just the way I liked it. She looked to be with another girl, or maybe alone, I wasn’t sure, but I couldn’t see any boyfriends, which was mandatory. I didn’t want trouble. I moved into position right behind her. She turned and saw me, and I stared into her beautiful eyes. I wasn’t hesitant, but sure-footed and bold. The second opening band was on stage, and I wanted to work this woman throughout the evening. She was hot and I wanted her. We moved in motion to the music, often times getting pushed close together by the crowd, my groin grinding into her ass. I always tried to be polite -- I tended to be protective, keeping others away from her. I started out with my hands on her hips. Sometimes just one, sometimes both. Occasionally she took notice, but usually assumed it was the crowd closing in on us. Then I kept my hands there. She glanced over her shoulder and smiled. That was a good sign. She was beautiful. She had blond hair, pouty lips, and stunning eyes. I kept rhythm with the music, moving my hands across her stomach, down her thigh, then back to the waist. It was good, harmless fun.
I eventually worked my hands under her shirt and caressed her stomach. At that point I had to use extreme caution. If I hadn’t built up to this point with care and consideration, the worst could have happened. But all went well, and she readily accepted my hands across her abdomen. From that point I could move nearly anywhere -- up, down, around. The music was still pounding, we were trapped in the middle of the crowd, yet we felt almost entirely alone. It was just the two of us, connected, pulsing with the music. By this time her hands had traveled to me, and I was obviously hard. She took her time caressing the outside of my jeans, then reached in my pants, grabbing hold. I took that as a direct cue to explore any part of her I wanted, never losing the beat of the music. I was worried that when the music ended our experience would too, but my goal was to get her so hot and worked up that she would leave with me. I moved one hand up, caressing her bra. At this point I began to nibble her neck, using some caution so as not to mark her, and I moved up to her ear. She turned her head and we kissed passionately, with lots of tongue. It was hot, possibly the hottest kiss I’d ever had. Don’t kiss and tell.What happens at the concert, stays at the concert.
I took my time, and before I knew it, my hands were caressing her firm breasts and pointy nipples. By this time she had turned to face me, her hand still in my pants. I moved my hands into hers, caressing her pleasure spot, up and down, and she moaned with the music. I grabbed her ass and gave it a good squeeze. Soon enough we were working our way to the exit, leaving the still pounding music. We escaped to my shelled truck, which had plenty of room for lots of action in the back.
I wasn’t wearing my wedding ring, and I never told her my real name. I never asked for hers. I didn’t want her intruding on my "real" life. That could have been devastating for all parties, mostly my wife, because of course I still love her, sometimes I just need a little more. Some guys think it's better for them to tell everything to their wives, which I can’t agree with at all -- I figure if she stays clueless, then it's as if it never happened.
I had the lovely girl's clothes ripped off in moments, and mine were gone quickly as well. She was just as beautiful with her clothes off. She moved down and gave me the best cock suck I’d ever experienced. I immediately set to licking her shaved pussy until she was gushing. I pushed her onto her back and rammed her hard. She moaned in ecstasy. She pushed me back and turned, and I fucked her from behind. We connected again and again and again in every position we could think of. The truck bounced with motion and the windows fogged with steam, and we both came, moaning loudly -- we had forgotten everything but each other.
We soon noticed some concertgoers leaving, but no one seemed to notice us in the back of the truck. We finally fucked once more, then called it a night. She said she had to meet her friend. Instead of asking for my number, I was pleasantly surprised when she asked what the next concert was I was going to. I smiled and told her I'd be at all of them.
Some say lust controls me, but that simply isn’t so -- I control my lust and save it for the concerts.
