The Concert

By Bill Bryant

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He wasn't much for going to concerts anymore, especially those held in small dance clubs that impersonated concert halls. So, when his buddies at work started nagging him about this new band that was coming to town, he wasn't entirely kidding when he told them to fuck off.

When he was younger, he was first in line for nearly every show in town and practically lived in the one-fifty decibel, five million candlepower discos and exotic dance joints that lined the strip. After he hit thirty, he began to lose interest in the wild side of life ... at thirty-five he gave it up completely, at least as far as actually going out was concerned. He substituted his computer and the Internet for strippers and dance clubs. He had never had any inclination towards marriage or co-habitation .... seemed too much like work. Steady girlfriends ultimately became overly possessive nags, so he limited his relationships to a couple of old, equally unattached girlfriends who shared his sentiments. They seemed as happy as he was with the arrangement of an occasional video and dinner followed by a roll in the hay, a mumbled, sleepy kiss and goodbye. Good to go for a couple of days or weeks, maybe months, who knew?

But he still loved music and followed the new bands via the net. He had to agree that this one was pretty hot so, ultimately, he gave in to the badgering of his co-workers. Following their warnings, "Dude, you better start calling early, man, this fuckin' show's gonna sell out in two heartbeats, seriously", he started speed dialing five minutes before the ticket company opened. He managed to get through about fifteen minutes later, gave his credit card number, and was told by the operator in a lifeless monotone that his ticket would arrive in the mail within three days.

Later that day, he heard on the radio that the show had sold out in a record twenty minutes. He started dreading the crowd.

The night of the show, he treated himself to a rare dinner out at a small, trendy restaurant across from the club whose specialty seemed to be small portions at exorbitant prices. He inwardly winced at the trivial bullshit conversations that ricocheted around him.

" ...... I could not BELIEVE she would wear THAT to work ... "

" .... Harv went straight out and bought the first Beemer he saw .... "

" .... Muffy was sooooo KeeYute in her little doggie sweater .... "

Congratulating himself on what he hadn't been missing for the last five or six years, he quickly polished off what was laughingly called a prime rib, knowing he was fucked from the moment the waitress asked how he'd like it cooked. He almost talked himself into blowing the whole thing off and going back home. He looked at his watch ... almost time .. "Fuck it!", he thought, signaled for the check, paid, built up his nerve, and headed across the street to the club where the line was already forming.

Moving into place, he felt very much like someone's perverted uncle. Everyone seemed to be at least half his age or younger and he was surrounded by black leather, chains, and purple hair and shaved heads. Nose, eyebrow, lip, nipple, tongue, and presumably cock and cunt rings were making a strong showing, he noticed, as were tattoos, both simple and incredibly elaborate. One shirtless guy of about twenty was demonstrating how he could make the dragon on his back fly. "Damn, I'm just fucking old", iterated through his mind.

Once inside he heard, "Whoa, dude, gotta stamp the hand", and he headed for the bar and got a Johnnie Walker Black with a splash of Sprite. He turned to survey what he'd gotten himself into. The hastily erected stage hulked at one end of the dance floor where a few early souls had started to gather. Tits and ass, tightly confined by either leather or spandex milled about in growing numbers. He guessed at ages and the possible effects of growth hormones in food while he knocked off his drink, then turned to get another. In that short span of time, the crowd at the bar had grown to three deep with a line of female traffic squeezing past, either headed towards or away from the bathroom at the far end.

Definitely ready for another drink, he waded into the mob. He stood there for a few minutes without making much progress, then suddenly caught the leggy bartender's eye. She reached down, briefly revealing substantial unbound cleavage, and waved the bottle bearing the familiar black label with gold lettering. He gave her a thumbs up. At that moment, he felt two hands on his waist and two firm breasts brush across his back. He turned his head to see an absolutely gorgeous dark-haired girl pushing her way through the throng, on her way to the restroom.

She was nearly as tall as his six feet, with huge brown eyes dominating her round face. Her smooth, sculpted body was displayed achingly through a tight one-piece mini-dress, which molded perfectly to her firm breasts and equally firm ass. He was suddenly transfixed, laughing at himself, as all the noise in the bar faded into a dull buzz in his head while he stared at her. In ultra-slow motion, she turned her head toward him. As their eyes met, the corners of her full lips curled up into a smile, and her pink tongue brushed over even white teeth. Then she was gone in the crowd.

Snapping out of his daze, he turned back to the bartender who was looking a little pissed at his diversion. He hurled a ten spot over the crowd to her, looked around, and decided to get another while he could. Sheepishly, he motioned to her with his cup and another bill. She smiled in spite of herself and fixed the drink, two very generous tips, apparently made the delay worth it.

He turned away from the bar and hesitated for a minute to see if the mystery girl would pass back by ... no luck. Glancing back out toward the stage, he saw the crowd was getting thicker. He sucked down his second drink. "Damn, she made it strong", he thought, and decided, "in for a dime, in for a dollar", and started working his way towards the stage.

He managed to get within about three rows back from the lead microphone when the lights dimmed and the first band came on stage. About halfway through their set, his head was ringing either from the scotch or the arrays of fifteen-inch speakers on either side of the stage, so he decided to head to the far end of the club. He turned to see that he was completely trapped by the crowd. "At least I don't have to piss", he thought idly and turned back toward the screaming singer.

Somehow in the moment his back was to the stage, the mystery lady had wormed her way through the mob to the spot right in front of him. He almost dropped his drink at the sight of her back. The dress was open from the tips of her shoulders to the first swell of the inverted heart shape of her ass. Her long hair, catching the lights, flowed between her prominent shoulder blades to the middle of her back, swaying to her movements across satiny tanned skin. The skirt ended by molding itself perfectly around her cheeks revealing just a hint of the cleavage inside.

As he stared downward at her impossibly long, smoothly muscled legs, he reminded himself that he was undoubtedly a dirty old man. She turned her head, glancing back at him as if reading his mind. There was that smile again! Dumbly, he realized that the music had stopped and the band was leaving the stage. He watched her as she raised her hands, and her skirt ... just a tad, to applaud. Her slender arms swayed back and forth, as did her hair and her ass. If he would have turned suddenly into a cartoon figure, he would have a line of drool running out of the corner of his mouth, he laughed to himself at the thought.

Without warning, the headliner hit the stage and the crowd surged toward them as a unit, pushing him directly against her back. She was screaming and bouncing up and down in adoration for the band and seemed totally unaware, as he wished he was, that his prick was pressed firmly against her gyrating ass. Although he was dimly aware of the wailing guitars blasting from the speakers, and of the punkish guys leaping about the stage, he was totally immersed in the sensation of her tight ass cheeks massaging his rapidly hardening cock.

"This is gonna be bad, this is gonna be bad, oh man, this is gonna be bad", he kept muttering softly. "I can't move, she's moving way too fucking much, oh shit, this is gonna be bad."

Despite every dick-shrinking thought he could invoke, her ass massage had made his cock completely forget who was supposed to be in charge. Mental pictures of Roseanne Arnold, naked, had no effect. The four hundred-pound woman featured at suddenly transformed into this tall slender nymph in front of him. The woman's legs spread wide, knees pressing against the swells of her small breasts. The .GIF someone sent him of some ninety year old woman giving head to some old dick, morphed into this darling mystery sucking his cock with her pink tongue. His cock was now screaming, "Goddammit, it's cramped in here, motherfucker! Let me at that ass ... Let me at it ... son ... of ... a ... bitch!"

Completely pinned, he was starting to freak out. His cock was pounding away at the zipper of his shorts and his balls were aching with the need for release while her tight cheeks continued to stimulate him. Loosen, then clench, up, down, sway to the left, sway to the right, loosen, clench, he thought, staring at the back of her head, the scent of her shampoo and her perfume fueling the fire between his legs. Unbelievably, she turned her head to him with that smile, only now it was broader. He felt her ass press back, purposely, against him. She fucking ... KNEW ... what she was doing!

She lowered her arms and managed to squirm them down to her sides. He could feel her struggling around her waist and realized she was pulling her skirt up. She continued to move against his cock and he began to feel her moisture through his shorts. His cock was absolutely livid at this point. It smelled cunt ..... hot ... wet ... cunt at that. He wasn't going home without it. It jerked and throbbed painfully against the barrier of denim between itself and Shangri-La lady. The rich scent of her arousal wafted up and mingled with the smoke surrounding them. Her delicate perfume was making him dizzy. The need to sink his cock into her ass occupied his mind.

He felt her hands struggling to get between their bodies, trying to get the zipper of his shorts. Her fingers almost made it once, pressing deliciously against his engorged cock. He fought his hands down to help her. He grabbed the zipper and with a mighty cry of triumph, his manhood leapt from its confines and headed straight for heaven as he unzipped. His heavy balls bulged through his zipper and quickly informed him that they did not particularly like sharp metal objects. Struggling harder, he pushed his shorts down from his hips just enough to shut his nuts up.

Somehow, she managed to reach back between her own legs and grasp his shaft. Had it not been for the mob surrounding them, her touch would have put him on the floor. She guided his cock head achingly back and forth through her dripping slit, lubing him up, then she positioned her opening around the tip. She pressed her weight back onto him as he thrust forward as much as he was able.

After a slight hesitation, his cockhead popped inside her incredibly tight channel. She raised her arms above her head as his shaft followed the lead to bury his length deep inside her blistering hot ass hole. He could only stand there as she resumed her gyrations on his meat.

He snaked his arms around her to cup her breasts and found that her mounds fit perfectly inside his palms, and he could feel her rockhard nipples gently poking his palms. She raised and lowered herself using her legs, bending slightly, fucking him. Her tight walls sucked at his cock hungrily and he could feel every concussion from the kick drum deep inside her ass.

Without warning, his balls let go and he pumped spurt after spurt of come into her hole. Feeling his orgasm, she pressed harder back against him, taking all of him inside her, and he felt her channel squeeze his cock, almost painfully, as she joined him in climax. His head roared and he thought he felt her groans in his hands as she came with him. Her head pressed back against his chest and he felt her hot breath on his neck.

He eventually felt her body release the tension of her come and thought she would pull herself off him. Instead, she pushed her sopping ass back onto him even harder. He was relieved since his cock showed no signs of dying just yet.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he heard the ballad being played onstage. She slowly worked her ass on his cock, gently milking it into full hardness, again. The bass guitar vibrated through her abdomen and tingled in his shaft as her silky walls caressed him, gently squeezing and sucking at him. He felt like he could just stay right here forever buried deep inside this delicious lady as he rocked back and forth with her. As the ballad gave way to the final pounding rendition of the band's latest hit, he felt his balls tingling again.

Her motions increased with the tempo of the music and soon she was slamming back against him. He felt his cock bottoming out inside her drenched butt as she fucked him violently. He was aware that his shorts were completely soaked with their frothy come and that the denim was sticking uncomfortably to his leg, but nonetheless, he pounded back into her as much as he was able.

As the song drew near the end, a hard beat with the double bass drum radiated through her ass into his cock. He felt her walls gripping him tighter than ever and knew she was about to come again. His hands went down the front of her and he pressed his fingers into her wet cunt, holding her tightly. His balls felt tight against the base of his cock and his shaft was beginning to pulse ever faster. As his fingers spread her cunt she came and her hands reached behind his head to pull him closer and she arched her back, pressing her ass back to completely engulf his spurting shaft. Her cervix pressed against his sensitive head prolonging his orgasm and he felt her screams through his hands, which were tightly squeezing her cunt. Her body gave one last mighty convulsion that milked the last of his semen from his thoroughly drained balls as the band finished its encore.

As the crowd began to loosen, she slowly allowed his softening prick to slip from the confines of her ass hole. As she pulled her skirt back over her hips, the thinning mob allowed him to feel his come, mixed with hers, running in rivulets down the insides of her thighs. He placed his hands on her shoulders and tried to turn her to face him now that movement was possible, but she resisted. Puzzled, he reached down to pull up his shorts before anyone got a glimpse of his dripping cock.

She stood for a moment and he could tell she was fumbling with the tiny bag across her shoulder. Suddenly, she wheeled around to face him. She placed her hands on his cheeks and leaned forward, placing her lips on his. She kissed him deeply for a moment then pulled back. She looked in his eyes just for a minute and gave him that broad smile once more. Then she pressed a piece of paper into his hand and disappeared into the crowd.

He stood there dumbly with his mouth open, shorts with a dark wet stain on the front, a look of utter disbelief on his face. After a couple of minutes, he realized people were staring at him as they walked past, so he turned to make his way out of the club. As he approached the door and the light was bright enough to read by, he unfolded the paper she'd given him. It was printed on a parchment type paper and read ...

Today is my 16h birthday
This is how I wanted my first time to be
No kids ... No names ... No talk ... No bullshit
Thank you for making my wish come true !

He shoved the note in his pocket and headed home.

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