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Blacked

When I was nineteen, I had an encounter with a stranger that has remained my most erotic sexual experience. It was at a gig at the Astoria in London, a band I’d been following around the country with my mates – they were called Firestorm and we thought they were the most exciting musical phenomenon we’d ever come across! Well – they weren’t bad looking too, which had a lot to do with it.

This particular gig was in August. We had another few months of summer before we all fragmented off to universities up and down the country. The weather was sultry and hot, even more so in London without the cool Sussex breeze in the evenings, and as we headed up on the train that evening we were all dressed more for the beach than the city. Karen was wearing shorts and a t shirt, her sister Lindsay a bikini top and a denim skirt. I was wearing my favourite dress, a short white cotton sundress that showed off my tanned legs. I’d been swimming with a club for the last few months and I was fit and toned. My hair was long then, before I had it cut short, and I was itching with the anticipation of seeing my favourite band.

We arrived ridiculously early and queued by the doors to be sure of getting a good place in front of the stage. Firestorm hadn’t played London since New Year, and they’d had a lot of radio coverage since then. Within minutes of us arriving, the queue stretched round the block, a full hour before the doors were due to open.

I spotted him while we were sitting on the steps waiting to get in. He was about twenty people back from us, just a bit taller than me, blond hair, tanned like me, fit like me. Actually I spotted him because he was wearing a “Demons” t-shirt and black jeans – the t-shirt was from one of Firestorm’s earliest gigs, “Demons” was their first album. Not many people had a copy of the album, let alone a t-shirt. I’d been coveting one they’d been offering in a competition in their newsletter. I recognised a true soulmate and gave him my widest smile.

To my delight, he smiled back, a warm, wide, sexy smile that made my heart beat faster. The sun was going down now and a sudden cool breeze blew, and I self-consciously crossed my arms across my chest as the sudden coolness made my nipples harden to little points. He saw this and his smile turned into a grin. I blushed furiously, but there was something about his smile that made me feel just a little bit frisky.

Just then the doors opened behind us and we all leapt to our feet, sprinting through the corridors and merchandising to the main stage area. We were fast but so was everyone else – within five minutes the arena was heaving with people, already starting the chant: “where’s the Storm… where’s the Storm…” and I’d all but forgotten about the lad with the sexy smile…

Once the gig had started, chaos broke loose. The noise was phenomenal, as it usually was, my ears would be singing for the rest of the week. The crowd roared their way through most of the songs, swaying like a living mass from side to side. I was held up on all sides by other people, but I wasn’t scared – I’d done this so many times before. There were moments when my feet left the floor and eventually touched down again several Bycasino metres further away. It was exhilarating.

I lost sight of the others a few tracks in. Karen had been right at the front, gripping the crush barrier for dear life, right under Simon’s mike, gazing up at her hero. Lindsay was gradually pushed over to the left. As for me, I was about ten people back from the front of the stage, in the most scary place of all, the middle of the heaving throng.

When the lights dimmed and the cool guitar riff of ‘Cold-Hearted Lover’ started, the pressure eased around me and – bizarrely – I felt a soft kiss on my neck from the person behind. I looked round and the lad with the sexy smile was behind me. I smiled at him and he snaked his arms around me from behind, holding me against the length of him. We were both damp with sweat, that lovely Demons shirt damp and smelling of lovely masculine warmth. My heart was thudding like mad, with the sheer thrill of it. Being touched by the massed throng was one thing, but this intimate contact with a complete stranger was quite another. I put my hands over his and he let his fingers twist through mine, squeezing them. He dropped his head to my shoulder and breathed into my ear. Even above the voices raised in the chorus “…don’t need a cold-hearted, kick-started lover, oh no….” I heard his whisper, “You’re lovely. What’s your name?”

But before I could answer the song drew to its achingly lovely close, and the crowd erupted again with cheers and applause, deafening us both. I wriggled round so I was facing him, slipped my arms up around his neck and kissed him deeply. Pressed tightly against his body, I felt him harden more against my tummy. One of his hands gripped my bum, pulling me up into him even more, the other hand threaded through my hair which piled down my back in soft, damp waves. The humidity in here was making it go curly.

When the next song started I released him and twisted round to the front again. His expression told me all I needed to know. He was dazed now, by that kiss. Firestorm started up ‘Losers’ and the crowd went berserk – this was my favourite too, and I started to move my body in time to the heavy bass – along with everyone else. It was as if we were all part of the same body. His arm went around my waist, his free hand dropped to my thigh, moving slowly up my warm skin, making me feel hot and breathless. I lifted one arm up and felt for his head, snaking my arm around his neck, tilting my head back onto his shoulder. I pushed back a little with my bum, grinding my hips into his hardness, which was growing bigger and hotter by the minute.

“… so we’re all just losers… in the Game of Life… you and me babe, you and me… we’re all losers in the end….”

His hand had pushed my skirt up and had slipped underneath, and now it was moving to the front, skimming across my knickers which were wet with the sweat of all these hot bodies. I gasped a little and pushed back even more, knowing what was coming next…

He hooked one finger under my knicker elastic and pulled it to one side, allowing access to my pussy which was just aching to be explored. I felt his fingers feeling Bycasino giriş for my clit, finding the right place and then starting a rhythmic circular motion, just the right pressure. Totally in time to the music, it felt like the music was inside me, the sensations pulsing through my whole body, from the vibrations in the floor travelling up through my legs to his gentle, insistent fingers. I turned my head a little and he was there, watching me, not watching the band – totally absorbed in what he was doing. I licked his cheek and he took my mouth with his, in a deep, sensuous kiss, while all around us people danced and swayed and yelled and screamed.

‘Losers’ came to its sudden end and there was more chaos. For a moment his hand was knocked away from its activity and we were almost torn apart by the crowds moving suddenly to the right. He’d got me around the waist still and as my feet left the floor he held me up and kept hold until the crowd settled down into the next number.

Once he decided I wasn’t going to be snatched away again, he dropped both his hands to my hips, directing the grinding motion of my bum and pulling me back against him. Then before I knew much about it, he’d lifted my skirt, hooked his thumbs under my knicker elastic and pulled them right down! They dropped to my knees and since I was still being held up by the crowd there was no way I was going to be able to bend down and retrieve them. At the same moment I realised I was in danger of tripping over if the crowd suddenly moved away, so I did the only thing I could do. I wriggled so they dropped to my ankles and stepped out of them. Some caretaker would find them later, I guessed…

Something about the hot draft on my bare pussy was making me incredibly horny. I wanted to be fucked hard, preferably now. I felt behind me for those black jeans. Despite the noise from the crowd I heard him gasp when I undid the buttons of his fly and freed his cock. My hand held it firmly behind my back, feeling its size. It was huge, and hard as stone, hot and damp already, a droplet on the head dribbling over my thumb. I started a slow, firm stroke, up and down, wanking him to the beat of ‘Yours and Mine’…. His hand was on my pussy again, his fingers rubbing me harder and faster, still in time to the frenetic beat.

When I was so close to coming I thought I was going to faint, he pushed my hand away suddenly, lifted my skirt at the back. I was pushed slightly and his arm grabbed my waist again, keeping me steady. I knew what he was doing and leaned over a little to help him get access.

Then I felt his huge cock between my legs, slipping down between my thighs. He pulled back a little and this time it slid up between my ass cheeks, that whole part of me was just sopping wet and slippery by this time it was going to be hard to get him inside me.

Now, suddenly, I felt my pussy filled with a huge, hard cock and I gasped at the feel of it. My skirt dropped down to my thighs again, covering us both up, which was good because Firestorm had started another slow song and the crowd had slowed and parted a little. The lights went right down, so you could only just see people’s Bycasino deneme bonusu faces in the glow from the stage.

Now he started fucking me seriously from behind, gliding in and out of me in long sensuous strokes, almost all the way out, then slamming back into my pussy with force. I was pushing back onto him as hard as he was pushing into me. If it hadn’t been for the noise of the crowd, you would have heard our bodies slapping together.

I felt juices running down my leg – not sure if it was sweat, or come, or just the product of my lust. One hand around my waist, guiding me, the other slipped under my skirt again and felt for my clit, rubbing me hard and fast with the side of his thumb.

The combination of his hot prick pumping me and his fingers rubbing my clit made me come suddenly and I screamed out with the force of it. Just then the song ended again and everyone was screaming so it didn’t matter. He held onto me tightly while I bucked against him, throwing my body back onto his cock. He nearly lost his footing when I pushed back on him suddenly. His thrusting got faster and I think it was the force of my orgasm gripping his hot cock that made him start to come too…

I felt his come spurting inside me like a hot jet as he yelped in my ear and he pulled me back onto him hard, one last time.

Gasping for breath, holding on to his arm to keep myself from collapsing, I felt him ease himself out of my dripping pussy and with one hand pack his cock away into those black jeans…

We listened to the next song like that, dancing together, my hand on his arm, his warm come dribbling down the inside of my thigh, bodies all around us who had felt the force of our orgasms but not recognised them for what they were. We had fucked with people all around us dancing and singing and not one of them had noticed…

The gig was drawing to a crescendo as the band launched into their traditional final number, ‘Eye of the Storm’. All around us bodies thrashed and his grip on my waist kept slipping. Once or twice we lost each other totally, until I felt his hand grabbing at mine. Once I lost him and then saw him, clambering my way through people, throwing myself into his arms, wrapping my legs around his body as the crowd held me up and pushed me against his body. I kissed him hard, licking his lips, nibbling at him, feeling his tongue pressing gently into mine, his arms under my bum holding me tightly up against him. He dropped me gently back to the floor to join in the applause, the pounding of thousands of feet on the floor, the arms waving in the air… I lost him again.

When I finally saw him, I hardly recognised him because he’d taken his t-shirt off! Then I saw the black ‘Demons’ t shirt in his fist, he was waving it at me, mouthing something inaudible above the noise. I grabbed at it, thinking he’d use it to pull me to him like a lifeline, but he let go of it just as I caught the end.

With a smile, he was gone completely, leaving me clutching the precious t- shirt.

After the encores, when the lights finally came on, I looked everywhere for my lover, but he had gone. I found Karen and Lindsay and we made our way back to Victoria, our bodies and clothes soaked with sweat. I put the wet ‘Demons’ t-shirt on over my dress, feeling the cool breeze swirling around my naked pussy, a secret smile on my face.

“Where the hell did you get that?” Karen demanded, madly jealous.

“My secret,” I replied.

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Red-Headed League

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Alpha Son

The randomness of when desire raises its selfish head can be jarring. You immerse yourself with the ephemera of life; jobs, family, and even in this little ice age, weather: Accept sanguinely the dog days of January. You board a train, content that it will bring you from A to B almost on time, you are receptive to the embrace of the Sunday papers.

In retrospect the first fifteen minutes in the same carriage passes unremarkably. It’s as if the body inevitably has to get used to new surroundings and takes its pretty time to shed its January torpor. Lust initially materialises in a linear and streamlined fashion. First off wryly recognising the irony of being attracted to a younger version of yourself: The incarnation that had no concept of his possible attraction to others. You’re also though slightly irked by his slight similarity to a gentlemen of your acquaintance that you’ve never had much time for, and whom you’ve never consciously been attracted to.

You ease your way in by admiring, in a catholic sense, his young fogey, sartorial elegance. He evinces a high forehead crowned by a thick red halo of hair: Does he realise that he will shortly be balding. You try to reassure him telepathically that fretting would be a waste of energy. After all many men ( for it must be men ) will only see it as a boon.

You’re being drawn in quite inexorably oral seks porno now. But you’re also cut some slack. He digests Time Magazine and then a Neil Gaiman novel. Whilst reading he removes his large unfashionable glasses. Possibly still awkward about using them and vouchsafes that short-sightedness is no issue when reading a novel. So presenting the opportunity to drink him in without being discovered. Its a delicious opportunity to let the eyes rove and to disturb the erotic side that didn’t expect to be wakened on a cold winter Monday. His legs are almost impossibly long and thin, yet he manages to fold one upon the other dexterously. Not that you divert much from the visage, unsullied, unbroken and poutingly beautiful.

You are now thoroughly distracted and rattled, sweating internally, butterflies firmly lodged around the heart. You register that you’ve got to your late 30’s without feeling like this about a total stranger. Reading is now completely impossible. The tale of seismic political events in the broadsheets utterly prosaic.You feel the need to text a fellow homosexual to relate your plight. For the want of something to do and to take a needed break from stabbing desire you walk the carriage to the toilet. Actually you do also need to relieve yourself. The stressful pressure on the bladder has become oppressive. playboy porno On the way back back you enjoy the fact that the junting locomotive makes that you brush against him. God he might have thought you did it deliberately.

For at this stage there is some level of recognition between two strangers on a train. Some eye contact. For sure it could be masked as only the introductory type that can’t be necessarily separated from ‘the looking straight ahead on a train and taking in what you see’ type. But he may have begun to be suspicious of you. A few initial glances from a man, as opposed to a member of the opposite sex mightn’t quickly be decoded. Of course his eyesight might also be better than what you have gambled upon. But the point of no return has certainly been reached. You maintain eye contact firmly,and his deprogramming glasses can’t fail to get the message that it is unusual if not necessarily sexual.

You remember when you were younger. When you had no sexual confidence. Then a series of covetous glances could never be explained as just that. Now you’re older you know there is someone for everyone. So when you see the eyes of this young beauty dart away from your gaze you know it usually means one thing. Your feelings are not wholly unrequited.

Thankfully the train service lives down to its reputation. pornhub porno You will arrive half an hour late leaving plenty of time for lazy longing. You suddenly see yourself as a witness to events in a refuge where you are also a participant. You make out a now familiar tangle of auburn furze above a naked torso: With your own doppelganger assiduously putting his tongue up the young man’s arse.

All good things must eventually be moved on and we have to leave our cocoon. You marvel at his thin frame as he takes off his smoking jacket to reinstall a purple sweater. You envy a maroon school bag that he attaches primly to his back. There is an agonising moment where he stands over you as he queues to alight from the train. Once you let him-fox like- get a head start you follow. You move at a quixotic pace according to the vagaries of the crowd and his movements. Anxious not to get too close and yet not wanting to be detached. For a panicky moment at the entrance to the terminal you lose sight of him, but thankfully he stands out from the crowd and re-emerges. But there isn’t to be a piquant ending. The respective final destinations means that you end up on the opposite side of the train tracks from your quarry. You prepare yourself manfully and with diligence for the parting, busying by purchasing your ticket. A final eye-contact is made across the great divide. He looks rather forlorn and lost out of your charge. The die is cast and Aidan Fitzgerald gets on his tram first and disappears across King’s Bridge stealthily. Modern technology has decreed that his name was emblazoned above him and his seat on the train. Perhaps our paths can cross again.

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