A Concert To Remember 2

I am listening to his latest CD whilst I write this short piece. As per usual, there are a couple of tracks that I already love, a few that I very much like and a couple that I care less about. When I listen to his music sitting in my own home it is difficult to equate what I am hearing to this man that I know so well. He is just a man after all. One I happen to like.

I let my mind drift. It is pleasant to reminisce from time to time. Life is normally so busy and it is nice to have some free time. Our love affair is long over, but every now and again if he is playing nearby I go and see him perform. There were no hard feelings or bitterness. It could never have lasted or gone anywhere, and he is often away all over the world touring. He is my friend still. For this I am grateful.

I close my eyes and cast my mind back over the last ten days or so...

A concert

I stand through the first half. One disadvantage of being on the guest list is that if the show is a sell-out I have to just sort of find somewhere to stand and blend-in if it is a seated event. A couple of other people are standing with me. An older man stands to my right and a boy who looks barely out of his teens to my left. They both look utterly absorbed in the music, and smile at intervals. I am also listening intently watching this talented man perform, shaking my head when between tracks he says something risqué or funny. I have heard many of his jokes before.

We had a meal before the concert, caught-up on each other's lives and general news. I still think he is cute. I am not entirely sure why this is, but chemistry it would seem is the only way to explain this. I was initially just physically drawn to him and wanted to explore every part of his body with my tongue and lips. I know he still finds me attractive too. He tells me I am beautiful and always has. I have the ability to drive him wild, make him breathless and make him cry out. He has the ability to make me wet by just looking at me with lust in his eyes. This has never gone away, but the desperate urge to be with him and speak to him every day has long gone. I guess I have moved on and become more confident in myself over time. Again, I smile as I listen to the music.

I take a short stroll at half-time. There will be people wanting to talk to him. I will get to talk to him again later. I chat with a couple of concert-goers outside whilst having a furtive cigarette. It is cold outside and a relief to come indoors once more for the second half.

To my delight, a seat has been vacated and so I get to watch the second half in comfort. I don't like to admit to anyone that my back aches if I stand still for too long. I am a slender lady with long legs and long hair. No-one ever believes me if I say I get occasional aches and pains as I look fit and well. I am not a complainer by nature anyway, but sigh with pleasure as I sink into my seat.

I have never been to a concert of his where the audience have not demanded more at the end of a set. Predictably he is cheered back onto the stage for a final number. It has been a good evening and people have very much enjoyed themselves.

I stroll once more as I will have to wait for him to give me a lift back to my car which is a few miles away. He will be ages signing CD's and I do not wish to get in the way. A man comes up to me and seems to want to chat a little. He introduces himself and seems perfectly nice, intelligent, interesting to talk to, but sadly not attractive. I realise it is nearly time to leave and say goodbye to this man. He looks a little disappointed.

Time to go home

I climb into the passenger seat beside my friend and put my seatbelt on. He turns the car around, and our short journey begins. His left hand settles on my right thigh. This is the norm for him to do this, and I do not read anything into it. He is a big tall man and I am small and slim. Somehow this endearing gesture of protection and maybe possession just for a short car journey is fine by me. I feel safe, and we continue to discuss the concert with ease and enjoyment.

I gasp momentarily as his hand slides up my thigh and just brushes my crotch over my jeans. The hand is almost immediately back in its original position. Did I imagine this nifty manoeuvre? For a big man, he often moves very quietly and nimbly. I look up at him. His face is impassive, focussed on the road and the drive. A face exuding nothing but complete innocence.

I too focus my gaze back onto the road ahead of us, but gently move his hand up my thigh once more and place it against my crotch. He begins to stroke me gently, and I let out a small sigh.

"Can I play with your clit?" he asks, eyes still focussed on the road.

I don't reply, but slide down the seat a little and part my legs. He slides his hand down the front of my jeans and knickers.

"Am I wet?" I ask.

"What do you think?" he replies.

As his fingers slide between my legs, I can tell that I am extremely wet. He does this to me sometimes without me even realising. It can happen in mere seconds.

I stop myself from crying out as his fingers begin to spread my slippery juices over my clit. I part my legs as much as I can and will him to continue. He continues to drive, to focus on the road. He does not even look at me as his fingers work their magic, stroking little circles of loveliness softly over my swollen little bud. This feels so sordid, so naughty. It is dark, it is late, but if we had to stop at traffic lights, anyone could see what he is doing to me.

I lean back in my seat, shut my eyes and enjoy the sensation of his fingers stroking my most sensitive part, stroking me towards that lovely sweet feeling I get as my orgasm begins to build. It will not take long. This man has me utterly helpless as he touches me, strokes me. I know it is about to happen, lean forward in my seat, squeeze my thighs against his hand and whimper helplessly as my orgasm engulfs me. I grip his hand with my crotch and my thighs as it happens, and collapse back against my seat panting.

I think I hear him chuckle softly.

"Do you want to cum again?" he asks.

He knows me so well. Again, there is no need to reply. I simply lean back once more, and this time prop my left leg up on the dashboard, allowing him to finger-fuck me as he drives. I hope no-one can see what he is doing now. As he slides two fingers in and out of me, I begin to feel my pleasure build very quickly once more. I put my own hand down the front of my knickers and stroke my clit as his fingers fuck me enthusiastically. This time will be even quicker. I once again know it is on its way and stroke myself urgently to orgasm, gripping his fingers once more, hoping he can feel every bit of my pleasure and appreciation.

He finally removes his hand, and puts his fingers to his own lips, tasting me. I am curious, and take his hand and put it to my own lips wanting to see what I taste like.

"We need to find somewhere to pull over," he announces, undoing his belt and flies.

"Yes," I reply, sliding my little hand down the front of his trousers, just cupping his scrumptious package.

We spot a dark lay-by and he pulls in, kills the engine, and we sit for a moment in darkness. He tilts his seat back, pulls his trousers and pants down revealing his balls and cock which I know so well.

I undo my seatbelt, turn to kneel over him, and lower my lips to his cock, running my tongue around the tip and then taking the whole length in my mouth. I hear him sigh. I begin to caress him with my soft mouth, and start to stroke his gorgeous balls with my left hand. This man who was only a short time ago performing on stage is now my victim, and I know exactly how to please him. He is now very, very hard and I begin to taste his pre-cum.

"I would love to sit on this if we weren't in a car," I whisper to him as I change position. My tongue now caresses his balls in long firm strokes whilst I simultaneously stroke his cock with my left hand and run my right hand up to his hairy chest.

"I want you to cum in my mouth," I tell him, once more taking his length in my mouth and cupping and stroking his balls which are becoming firmer and smaller as his pleasure builds.

"I am close," he croaks, reaching out to touch himself.

I continue to caress his balls with my hand, lower my mouth once more to the tip of his cock and lick in circles as he strokes himself to climax. He cries out as he cums hard! I feel him spurt into my mouth and taste him greedily, licking and swallowing every drop, and again as he squirts a second smaller amount.

He lies recovering, breathing heavily as I gently clean his willy with my tongue, feeling it begin to relax and soften once more. When I am happy I have done a good job, I return to my seat allowing him to make himself decent once more.

"That was amazing," he sighs, leaning in to kiss me softly and passionately.

"It was, wasn't it," I grin.

After we recover, he resumes the drive once more. His hand rests innocently but protectively on my thigh again, and before long we arrive at my car which looks sort of lonely late at night almost on its own in a big car park.

"Thank you for a lovely evening," I say after getting him to sign his new CD for me. "If I don't see you before, have a great Christmas."

"I will see you before," he replies looking at me with lust in his eyes once more.

"We will find a time."

He waits until I am safely in my own car with the engine running, waves, then he drives away into the night. I too begin my long drive home. It truly has been a delightful evening.