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The Rave

A sexual favor gets a young lady where she wants to be.
I work part time for a security firm that specializes in event management. Concerts, sporting events, private parties, fund raisers… you get the picture. It’s a wonderful part time gig and I get to see a ton of professional sports and those hard to get concert tickets mean nothing to me because I get paid to be there! This story is about a recent ‘rave’ I worked and how an unexpected fringe benefit really paid off.

A popular techno artist was in town spinning recordings to thousands of young people who paid top dollar to see his show. By and large, one can call it a ‘rave’. Loud techno music thump, thump, thumping while the audience drinks and smokes and ingests hallucinogenic substances. Most dance to the beat while others are entranced by the colored glow sticks either a friend or a nearby stranger spins in front of their faces.

I’ve worked several raves and in each one, the girls wore very revealing clothing. In fact in a rave last year, a young lady about 19 years old wore only body paint and a very skimpy skirt. Yes, her upper torso was only painted and she seemed to love the freedom of her breasts swinging naturally in the cool autumn air. I, too, enjoyed watching her breasts swing as she danced to the thump, thump, thump of the bass.

The techno artist was on stage delivering what the crowd wanted. The crowd was the same as any other rave; young girls wearing close to nothing enjoying the free flowing alcohol and loss of inhibitions. There were two sections available for paying guests. The first, and most sought after area, was the floor. These ticket holders could get close to the stage and it is where the “real” party took place. The second area was the balcony. It was further from the stage and therefore one paid a cheaper price for these tickets.

I was stationed at an obscure stairway that leads from the balcony to the floor. But no matter how obscure the stairway location was, I must have been asked by over 100 guests if I could sneak them onto the floor. My response was the same, “Unless you have a floor ticket, I cannot get you on the floor.” Most people understood and did not persist any further. One particular couple, however, seemed to push all my right buttons and this story is about them.

He was about 20 years old and she was about 19. Both were intoxicated, yet neither was holding a drink, so I presumed they did their drinking before they arrived at the venue. His eyes were red and glassy, his speech was slurred and his movements were slow. He handed me his ticket and I felt a piece of paper folded up beneath it. I read the ticket and of course it was for the balcony. I turned the ticket over and saw the folded piece of paper was a fifty dollar bill!

Her eyes were also glassy, but they were big and brown, matching her shoulder length brown hair. She wore a black push up bra which squeezed her ample, perspiration glistening cleavage together. She wore a pair of the tiniest black boy shorts which came so low in the front it barely covered her shaved pubic mound. On her upper thigh she wore a black garter and the outfit was completed by a pair of black knee high, spike heeled boots.

“Can you get us onto the floor?” He mumbled over the loud music.

She leaned in toward my ear and pressed her soft breasts into my arm, “Please! Is there any way you can get us there!?”

I looked at him and based on his half closed eye lids, I thought he was too intoxicated to remember what he was doing. I looked around and saw that the crowd was well into the music and nobody was paying attention to us. On any other night, I would have returned his money and sent them both on their way. But on this night, I slid the fifty into my pocket. He didn’t even notice what I had done. I then turned my attention to Miss Big Brown Eyes.

“What are you willing to give me to get to the floor?” I asked suggestively.

She looked deep into my eyes, clearly trying to figure out my meaning. A sultry grin came to her lips and she said, “I’m willing to do anything to get to the floor.” At that she tipped her chin down and looked up at me while her hand gently stroked my arm.

I could no longer resist so I told the boyfriend to wait while I talked to his girlfriend in the stairway. He didn’t respond and he was staring past my shoulder at nothing in particular. It seemed as if whatever he had ingested was taking control of his body. I opened the stairway door and motioned for the girlfriend to follow me. The stairway was abandoned of people because nobody from the floor wanted to go upstairs and I was not letting anyone downstairs. I locked the doors so that nobody could open them. Yes, it was a breech of the fire code, but at this point all bets were off.

We faced each other in the reasonable quiet of the stairway. It was nice to get away from the thump, thump, thumping of the bass, if even for a moment.

“How badly do you want to get to the floor?” I asked her.

“I want to get there in the worst way,” she said.

“O.K. I want only one thing from you,” I said. “And you have to be on your knees to give it to me.”

She grinned and immediately got on her knees, almost instinctively opening my pants at the same time. She pulled my pants down to just above my knees and took my hardening cock into her mouth. I leaned against the wall as her tongue worked my shaft until it was standing at attention. I looked down at her and watched how she masterfully moved her head back and forth, sliding my cock in and out of her warm, moist mouth. Clearly she has had practice.

She took my cock from her mouth and began to lick my balls as her hand stroked my cock. She looked up at me with her big brown eyes. Her cleavage seemed to glisten even more with perspiration.

“That’s it baby,” I moaned. “You’ve almost earned your ticket to the floor.”

At that she took my cock back into her mouth and began to suck it with purpose. Her hand stroked my cock in unison with her head movements and I could feel my explosion building deep within my balls. Her grip got a little tighter and her head movement got faster as she could sense the end was near.

She continued without slowing as I began to moan louder, “That’s it baby.” My orgasm built to the point of no return and I began to shoot my load into her mouth. She took my cock out of her mouth and continued to give me a hand job as string after string of my white pearls shot onto the stairway floor.

When I was done cumming, she put my cock back into her mouth and licked it clean. She kissed the tip of my now flaccid cock and pulled my pants up, closing the button and reattaching the belt. She stood and looked deep into my eyes, as if to say ‘My part of the bargain is complete.’ Without a word, I escorted her down the stairs to the floor and opened the door. Another guard was standing at the door and I simply said, “She’s O.K.!” She looked at me and with a smile kissed me on the cheek. She let out a primal ‘Wooooo!’ and scurried onto the floor with her arms in the air moving to the music. That was the last I saw of her.

I hurried back upstairs wondering what I would find once I unlocked the stairway doors. Would there be a crowd of people trying to get in…? Would my boss be looking for me…? How do I explain this one? I unlocked the doors and slowly opened them, peeking into the balcony. Not much had changed. The crowd was still dancing to the music and there was no crowd waiting for the door to open. I snuck through the door and quietly closed it behind me. I looked around again and saw the boyfriend standing at the balcony rail, dancing with three girls he apparently befriended. He never came back to ask about his girlfriend and I wondered if she was, in fact, his girlfriend at all. Perhaps he was just trying to impress her by showing how worldly he could be in matters of bribery.

With each passing minute it became clearer that I had gotten away with something I never thought I was capable of doing: getting a sexual favor from a stranger due to my position. Not only that, I made fifty dollars! But in all honesty, if he was still waiting, as I asked him to do, I would have brought him to the floor, too.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

Copyright © This story is copyrighted by me. Any similarities to any persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

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