Story Heidi Champa
It was supposed to be a secret gig, but somehow the word had gotten around — the club was already packed, and there was a queue out the door.
Maggie saw him standing at the desk as he always did. Every smile she had given him had gone unreturned, but that didn’t stop her giving him her best one again tonight. His fingers felt hot and rough with callouses as he pressed the stamp into her wrist, its damp surface slightly cool. The stamp smeared as she pulled away, leaving a black trail down her arm. Before she went in, she turned and gave him one last look. His blue eyes met hers for just a moment, before returning to the queue of waiting fans.
The press of bodies was almost over-whelming, but Maggie stood her ground, letting the push move her closer to the stage until she got stuck near the middle and further attempts to improve her position failed.
The lights dimmed, and she reached her arms into the air with a yell as the music began to pulse through the speakers. She could feel every thrum of bass string, every drum strike in her chest quickening her heartbeat as favourite songs filled her ears. The movement of people around her became com-forting, the press and retreat of flesh reminding her that they were all here for the same thing.
She barely noticed the hand graze over her hip, edging her slightly forward, as the wash of sound took her away. The
hand remained longer than necessary — it was both insistent and yielding, not a quick shove to move her out of the way. Turning her head, she saw his face. The boy from the door. When he put his lips to her ear, she scarcely heard him over the music, asking, ‘Mind if I join you?’
‘Not at all,’ she replied, and turned back to the stage.
His breath was hot on her neck, making her sweat even more. His fingers pressed a little deeper into her hips as he moved her back and forth.
She gasped when he swept his tongue over her neck, slowly, gently. She closed her eyes, feeling her nipples harden against her top, pleasure drowning out her desire to watch the band’s every move.
When she turned again to steal a look he met her mouth with his, tasting of smoke and beer, the curl of his tongue setting off an explosion of heat in her pussy. A hand moved from her hip, finding its way to her breast. A simple sweep of his thumb over the tight peak made her jump. He teased her like this over and over again until she was pushing her chest out, covering his hand with her own. The music dipped and changed, turning from a sweet, slow ballad to a churning, rolling beat. He released her mouth and Maggie fought to catch her breath.
He whispered against her ear again, ‘I’ve wanted to do this since the first time I saw you.’
When his hand dropped from her nipple to her thigh, exposed by her just-too-short skirt, she said a silent prayer of thanks to the friend who’d loaned it to her.
His fingers crept up and she pushed him higher until he was right at the crotch of her soaking wet panties. He paused there for a long moment, teasing her.
When she felt the tip of his finger graze her swollen pussy lips, she glanced around to see if anyone was looking, but everyone else was transfixed by the band. She tried to keep her eyes on the stage as she felt his fingers press the wet cotton between her pussy lips. The moist barrier did little to quell her sensations, as the fabric eased against her most sensitive spot. She moved her hips involuntarily, trying to increase the friction. Her clit throbbed as he rubbed to the beat, pressing his hard cock against her ass as they grinded together.
To a casual observer they looked like any other couple in the place, but Maggie doubted anyone else had a finger easing their panties aside at that moment. She held her breath, waiting to feel his fingers on her bare skin. He seemed to slow down at that moment, making her wait long seconds before lightly sliding his finger over the wet folds of her pussy. He took his time exploring, parting her lips with a single finger. She felt like she was dripping wet, her clit hardening under the rough touch of his skin. His finger continued its path, slipping inside her easily, her clit bumping his palm.
Maggie’s moans were lost in a sea of sound as he pumped his finger into her swollen, wet cunt.
The music continued to drive him, his timing perfect. She felt his tongue slowly passing over her earlobe, the wet heat of his mouth causing another low sound to come from her throat. Her body, her hips moved forward into his hand and back against his hard cock. She couldn’t control herself. He and the music were doing that for her. Once again the music slowed and his finger along with it, causing her to clamp her cunt around him.
She wished that the slow song would end so he would move his finger faster.
She tried to ride out the slow madness, tried to slow her heart and her breath down. His thumb again passed over her tense nipple, each stroke sending a shot to her clit. He pushed her hair aside and took a deep sucking pull at her neck. His teeth scratched lightly over her skin; she knew there’d be a mark there in the morning and didn’t care. She groaned into the cacophony, the sensations becoming almost too much to handle.
The next song’s quicker tempo increased his pace. His thumb strafed her clit, just twice, enough to weaken her knees. A second finger pushed at her wet, open cunt and slid effortlessly inside her.
She pushed hard against him as his mouth and tongue ran over her neck, rocking herself between his cock and his hand.
She was no longer content to let him control the speed and moved herself over him, her pussy sliding wetly up and down his fingers. He responded by screwing his fingers into her with abandon, no longer concerned with keeping time. Their bodies moved together, getting her closer to the climax she so desperately craved. He willed her on, ‘I want you to come. Come all over my hand.’
Maggie let her head rest on his shoulder, unable to hold it up any longer. The chorus rang out; anthemic strains she had sung in the car on the way there. The whole room moved in enthusiasm, bouncing joyfully. Her body was more than joyful, more than ecstatic. She felt her cunt ripple and tighten around his fingers, her thighs trembling along. Her pleasure shot through her whole body as she rode against him to stop herself from shaking blatantly with orgasmic tremors.
One long yell left her mouth, joining the crowd in saluting the end of the show. No one noticed that Maggie was yelling for a different reason. She thought it would never stop. But, just as the show came crashing to an end, her body came back to earth. She opened her eyes, the last strains of guitar easing out of the speakers.
His fingers left her. The house lights came up and brought everyone out of their reverie. He pulled Maggie close, their bodies still damp and sweaty. With a crooked smile, he brushed a stray hair from her face. He pulled a card from his pocket.
‘I’ve got to stay and clean up, but you should call me. I don’t want to wait until the next show to see you again.’
He turned and walked away. Maggie floated out into the cool night air. Pressing the damp card into her pocket, she sang all the way home.