The music thrummed and the people danced and swayed around me in the large warehouse that had been converted into a concert space. Up on stage, the Foals were doing a fantastic job playing with music, lights, and smoke. The crowd was eating it up, cheering and jumping in time with the beat. Large barn-style doors on either side and at the back of the Goat Farm concert space were open to the clear, cool spring night outside. Bars at either side of the back doors were doing brisk business selling beer and wine to the seemingly unquenchable masses. It was a truly perfect night for a musical experience.
I wasn't there for the music, although the band was surprisingly enjoyable. No, I was there for the crowd. There's something about the dark, close, almost intimate confines of a concert crowd that turns me on like nothing else. Personal space shrinks to mere inches, and bodily contact is expected from random strangers. The anonymity of the entire thing is an inhibition annihilator, and in my current vanilla life, few things are more enticing than losing my inhibitions for a few hours.
As the music played and the people danced, I closed my eyes and swayed with them all. I reveled in their excitement, taking into myself the energy and arousal of this twenty-something crowd. My body was loving the reverberating bass beat that made my chest thump and my muscles tighten. The person I had come here with was lost in her own enjoyment, having come for the band experience. I left her to her music and let my eyes prowl the shadowy crowd, seeking.
Standing directly in front of me was a man/boy. He couldn't have been older than twenty-two years old, the tell-tale black Sharpie circle on the pulse point of his right wrist indicating he was old enough to drink. His wide shoulders, clothed in a fitted black t-shirt, gave way to toned arms. A strong-looking hand with long, well-shaped fingers came up to massage the back of his exposed neck. Down below, narrow hips in dark-wash, loose-fitting jeans completed the bodily ensemble. Tousled, feathery, light brown hair looked real, not expertly styled. His skin looked so soft, and made me want to run an index finger along the nape of his neck to see for myself how soft. I couldn't see his face, but imagined it would be boyish and cute. He seemed to radiate shyness and innocence as he stood nearly stock still while the music played. No dancing for this one. With hands in his front pockets, he stood quiet and still.
The crowd had grown and tightened around us. I was standing mere inches from the object of my fascination, imagining what it would feel like to move those last few inches and press my breasts to his strong back. My body hummed, a soft pulsing starting deep in my core. Looking down the length of his back to his waist, I fantasized about wrapping an arm around him and pulling him against me. In my mind's eye, I could see my thumb catch on the waist of his jeans, then move down to rub over his unsuspecting cock. In the pressing darkness, no one else would notice. I imagined his surreptitious breath sucking into his lungs and his hand covering mine, then pressing me tighter into his hardening flesh.
The fantasy took me even further as I imagined pulling him out of the crowd, out of the concert space and down to one of the many dark corners of the warehouse lot. Once there, I could shatter his innocence by pressing him up against a rough-hewn wall, unsnapping and yanking off his jeans, spreading his legs wide before gripping his full erection and taking it in my mouth. I would give this young man the blow job of his life, sucking him deep into my throat and squeezing his balls until he came hard in my waiting mouth. I would glory in his groans and gasps as he worked toward his peak, then revel in his climax, all the while sucking and tonguing him to brain-frying ecstasy.
Shaking myself out of that mind-fuck, I focused once again on him. Then, through no instigation on my part, he overbalanced his stance slightly and leaned back too far.
His back grazed my left breast and he jumped. He literally jumped and stepped away, a combination of embarrassment and shy apology on his half-turned face. I grinned to myself, imagining this likely virgin boy in the fantasy image in my head. I filed the unlikely fellatio scene for later enjoyment, but continued to enjoy watching the way his muscles moved under that tight-fitting tee. Yum.
A soft touch at my left shoulder caught my attention. Thin, long fingers were gently holding me and I followed the hand up and up to a tall, skinny college boy. His eyes were locked on his destination and I understood immediately that he wanted to get back to the cute little brunette a few groups to my right. I moved up and once again bumped my man/boy obsession in order to let this young, lanky, but surprisingly enticing man past. His fingers were like a caress as they lingered for a moment, then were gone. It's truly amazing what one totally innocent touch can do for my libido in this situation. I felt beautiful, wanted, and hungry.
The concert progressed, and I found myself rubbing forearms with the cute, built frat boy to my left. Every time he swayed in my direction, our arms would rub softly and I began to imagine that he enjoyed it as much as I did. His girl, wrapped securely in his arms, looked over at me a few times and I could have sworn the light in her eyes was hot from arousal, not jealousy. This derailed my train of thought, throwing me into a steamy threesome situation. Perhaps the most interesting part about this fantasy was that the girlfriend was in charge. She was beautiful and sexy, her perfectly proportioned breasts held tightly in a floral spring dress with a low bodice. I imagined running my hands into her gorgeous dark hair, then finding her peaked nipples and licking and sucking on them while her boyfriend held her from behind and slipped his hand under her skirt into her lace panties. She would gasp and moan as he and I pleasured her perfect body.
My mouth curved as I thought about stripping her dress and lapping my way down her body to her aroused little clit, then lower to her wet slit and tonguing her sweet sex as her boyfriend slid his hard, wide cock into her ready cunt from behind. I'd continue sucking and licking at her as her boy would hold her hips steady and piston his hips against her. My hand would grip his balls and roll them and he would groan, going faster and harder. Eventually, she would come hard on his cock, milking him, the tightening of her sweet little fuck hole making him come inside her, his balls tightening in my grip. Thin rivulets of his salty cum would drip out of her hole and I would lick these up, tasting them both, then he would pull out of her and I would thrust my tongue into the void, licking and cleaning out her pussy, savoring his cock juice. Finally, she would guide my mouth over his cock and I would take him into my mouth to suck him clean and make him hard again for her.
A secret smile played on my lips as the concert moved into the last two songs. My body was humming and my mind was entertained by lusty fantasies. This was precisely what I'd come here for. I finally gave myself entirely to the music, feeling the beat and the guitar riffs blaze through my aroused system. Finally, the music stopped and the house lights came on. Looking around me, I noticed the space was clearing out quickly, everyone heading their separate ways after the intimacy of the concert. My man/boy obsession and the deliciously sexy couple had all been lost to the departure. I smiled contentedly at my concert buddy, who was over the moon about the band, and we headed out with the throng. I was pleased with the evening, even if my fantasies would never come true. Sometimes, the best thing about a fantasy is that it is just that: make-believe. And so I returned to my vanilla life with some new mental candy to pass the time. At least, until the next concert.
