4 comments/ 49617 views/ 6 favorites A Concert to Remember By: needsomerelief I have to say that I love my wife. We've been married for two and a half years, and have been together for almost five. It hasn't always been the perfect marriage, but it works, and we sure can have fun. We are both in our mid twenties, and are fairly attractive people (of course....). We are both former athletes, though not in quite as good of shape at this point. My wife is the truly beautiful one--dark hair, perfect freckles across her nose and cheeks, slightly thicker thighs, gorgeous 36D breasts with large, light pink nipples, and a good size ass that I could watch for days (and that's coming from a breast-man). Stories like the one I'm about to tell are what make things so incredibly interesting. Neither of us were overly sexually involved before marriage. She had fooled around with one long-term boyfriend, and I had fooled around with two serious girlfriends before we began dating each other. When we began dating, things progressed slowly at first, but we ended up becoming very physical. We had both wanted to wait for sex until marriage, but at times it seemed like a lost cause. I couldn't count the number of times we exchanged oral sex and masturbation. We basically couldn't keep our hands off each other. As often happens, we got married and acquired jobs and all that it takes to have a home that is presentable. We have the wonderful fights all couples must endure, and we have a few family members who think their job is to stay on our case at all times. All of that put a damper on our sex and romance. Honestly, it is more on her, our sex life isn't what it was when we were dating. But every now and then, something happens and changes all of that. Just the other night, we went to a concert and had amazing seats. Directly in front of center stage, only 8 rows back. We arrived early and tailgated. We drank a little bit, and then managed to score a few backstage passes where we had more free drinks. We managed to sneak in two flasks, which went in our cokes during the concert. From the moment of the concert's opening note, we started dancing. She loves to dance, and I usually don't, but we're both equally bad at it. But, when you have those kinds of seats at a show and a few drinks and it is one of your all time favorites artists, you forget all those inhibitions. We did the best we could, which basically looked like us both swaying, twisting our upper bodies with the music, and her backside against my front side. It didn't take long before the natural effects of alcohol, a great atmosphere, and her great ass rubbing against my dick would happen. After about the third song, I leaned my head down to her ear and said in as romantic a voice as I could muster, "I need you." "Haha. You WANT me, not need me," she said back. "Oh no," I responded. "I definitely need you. In fact, what I want is to get my birthday present." Just a couple of weeks ago was my birthday, and I was promised two blowjobs. She knows that my favorite thing in the world is a blowjob. She asked me once if I had to choose, would I take a lifetime of only blowjobs or only intercourse. While I told her I didn't want to have to choose only one, I would definitely go with a lifetime of only blowjobs. There is something magnificent about the loving mouth of a woman wrapped around your manhood that is irresistible. She doesn't understand why it is so great. I've tried telling her that there is no more real and personal and accepting act than oral sex. But, because of work and life in general, I never received either present. I hold no bitterness, but as my favorite thing in the world, I sure would love to get that present soon. So I asked for it. She laughed and asked if I really wanted one right there in the middle of the concert. "Sure," I said. She laughed again, and we just kept dancing. I put it out of my mind, hoping that maybe when we got home it could happen, but knowing that we would be tired and worn out, and it probably wouldn't happen. We continued to dance, and then another couple about our age walked by and said, "We're going to have wild monkey sex. You all have fun." We cheered them on, but I caught a glimmer in my wife's eye. "We can be wild, baby." "Yeah, we sure can," I assured her. Then, during the next song, she turned around from our grinding dance, wrapper her arms around me and kissed me. Not a gentle, safe kiss. But a deep kiss. I was lost at that moment. Our lips were locked, our tongues were probing each other's mouths. She brought her hands to the back of my head, then to my shoulders, then to my chest. I ran my hands down her back and firmly grabbed a butt cheek with each hand. I pulled her in close by her ass, grinding our pelvises together, working my penis into her hips. Our kiss never broke, but became more and more passionate. Then she stopped, took my head in her hands, kissed me with a long peck on the lips, and told me she loved me. I told her I loved her as well, and we went back to kissing. I pulled one hand off her ass and grabbed one breast, really meaning it playfully. She giggled, breaking the kiss. She smiled at me, and started giving me short pecks. The next thing I know, she is staring into my eyes, kissing me on the chin, then the neck, then my chest, and down and down. After just a few seconds, she had made it all the way into a fully squatted stance, her face right in front of my incredibly hard, soaking wet cock. She continued to smile at me as she started undoing my pants. I continued to sway with the music--albeit a little more tame of a sway--as she proceeded to undo my pants. We stared into each other's eyes. I think she was expecting me to stop her, and I was expecting her to stop at any moment. But the music and the booze and raging hard-on in my pants refused to stop this. Within a few seconds--although this whole thing seemed like glorious hours--my penis was hanging free, now swaying to the music like everybody else. She reached her hand up and grabbed it, and chuckled when she realized the amount of pre-cum covering my boxers and dripping from the head of my dick. She always laughs about me "leaking" when I get aroused. And since I was almost as horny as I've ever been, there was a lot to laugh about. She took my dick in her hands and mouthed the words "Happy Birthday, baby" to me. Then with a huge smile, she began to give me my present. It started with gentle kisses. Sensuous kisses directly on the head of my dick, then down every side of my shaft. Her talented tongue then traced up and down my shaft, then around the head. Within about one minute, I had forgotten all about the people standing on either side of us. Interestingly enough, neither of them seemed to notice. She then took the head of my penis, stuck it out right in front of her mouth, looked me right in the eyes, and began bobbing her head to the music. She's never been able to take in more than about a fourth of my dick, but it seemed like she had the whole thing in her mouth. She bobbed up and down, swirling her tongue round and round with each bobbing motion. Her left hand helped keep her balance, but her right hand alternated between rubbing the underside of my balls through my shorts, rubbing the shaft of my cock, and jacking me off. I put one hand in the air in order to pretend that I was still dancing to the music. The other hand reached down and rubbed her head. As I ran my fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp, her sucking became more fervent. She took my cock deep into her mouth, and with her hand grabbing my balls, made a swallowing type action. I don't know if it was intentional, but it was possibly the single greatest feeling I've ever had. If I hadn't known any better, I would have thought I came. The feeling was so incredible that almost wanted to cry. Having been worked up for a few weeks, and then the grinding of our dance, my horniness was killing me. My dick was throbbing, begging for release. She looked more into it than ever before. She sucked and caressed and rubbed and jacked me off. I could feel the orgasm building, and I think she could, too. She looked up, knowing what was coming. She released me dick from her mouth, her saliva dripping off the end of it. She put her hand firmly on my cock and jacked it hard and steady, smiling and looking me right in the eyes. She lowered her head again, putting her lovely lips just past the head. She sucked and licked and jacked and then it happened. The orgasm was almost uncontrollable. I was shaking, my eyes closed on their own, and I almost fell down. I could feel each pulsing stream of cum shooting deep into her mouth. She continued suck and jacking at a slow and steady pace, milking my dick for all it had. Her eyes were now closed and her cheeks were ever so slightly bulging out. When I finally finished what felt like several glasses of jizz, she stopped. She looked up at me again, and carefully removed my dick from her mouth. She left my cock dangling in the air, but spilled not a drop of my cum. She's never been the biggest fan of swallowing, so I didn't know what she was going to do next. Sometimes, she will swallow. Sometimes she lets it run back down the shaft. Sometimes she kisses me to give me "a taste of my own medicine." Most times, however, she simply spits it out and rinses her mouth out. She knows I love for her to swallow, and I do find the cumkiss kinky sometimes. But I assumed it would simply be spit onto the ground tonight. But I was wrong. She stood up and got face to face with me. While I wasn't really in the mood, I figured the kinky kiss was on the way. She smiled, opened her mouth, showed me the load of steamy, creamy cum in her mouth, and then swallowed it without ever losing her smile. She grabbed the rum and coke and took a swig. She leaned in, grabbed the sides of my face and began to passionately kiss me just like we had been doing at first. We kiss for a couple of minutes, with my head reeling from all that just happened. She broke our kiss and said, "Did you enjoy?" All I could muster up was something to the effect of, "ai-ai-ai....uh huh." I didn't have words to say to her, and she knew that. She giggled, and told me she loved me. She grabbed me, pulled me in close and we continued dancing. After a minute or two, when the song finally ended, she leaned her mouth up to my ear and said, "Your dick is still hanging out of your pants." "Haha....God, I love you." The dancing continued, and that was all the sex we had the energy for. But I will never forget the sensation, the look in her eyes, or the way my head (the big one) was swimming and dizzy from it all. A Concert to Remember 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.