The Gig

I’d been drinking since lunch. I knew I had to go to the concert with her. I mean I wanted to go but lately, hanging out with the ex wasn’t exactly how I wanted to end up. I needed more. Alcohol was a way of deadening it. Lifting life into a rosier state of mind. It’s all good now and I can cruise.

I had to get changed and was late to meet her and her friends. I hate jeans sometimes. I’d rather wear a suit so settled on my Ben Sherman outfit. God I can be a wanker sometimes. Slacks, shirt, hat and some black leather chucks. Solid. Looking in the mirror I frowned at the sight of my aging face. 40. Sigh.

The band I was looking forward to so I left the house mildly enthused.

A blur of smiles, drinks and my usual inappropriate comments, followed by the occasional frown from the ex, brought me to the gig.

I felt good. ‘Music is my radar’. So in I go mid crowd, rubbing shoulders lightly, feeling the warmth. A plastic cup of beer in each hand.

Support passes and things get a bit tighter in preparation. I see a girl a few rows up. She’s by herself. I stare. Attraction is an unusual thing. How do you spot one person in a crowd? It happens. She’s blonde, not normally my type but there's something about her.

The girls go off to get another drink. Either way I’m on my own so I move forward. Lights dim, queue stage, on they come. I sing, badly and loudly. I love the start, lost in the emotion of the performance.  Emotional as always.

After a few songs I look around. She’s there. A few people away. I stare down finish my beer and look up again. She’s entranced. Lost, intriguing. I see the back of her neck. It’s desirable. I love necks. She looks around and I look down. Hold. I look back up and we are connected. I know her even though we’ve never met. I reach forward. Feel her hand there and we’re on each other. The music surrounds us. Our kissing full and wet. Passionate. She fills my mouth and we parry, dance. On and on.

I grab her ass. And squeeze then move my hand inside. Down the back of her jeans. Feeling her skin. I love the curvature of it, the feeling between, the sweatiness. As I plunge my hand further down and feel her wetness.

I move my hand to the front, there’s hair at the top. Everything else is smooth, wet, slippery. A mixture of sweat and her excitement. My hand rests, firmly. Not moving apart from the swaying of our bodies. We open our eyes and connect again.  ‘Oh God’ is all she says then closes her eyes.  My finger gently massages her clit. A minute later she’s coming. I feel the legs squeeze, her body quiver. She’s good, very good. I lean back and we evaluate each other. I pull my hand up and lace it on the back of her neck. My fingers holding firmly. She breathes in and motions her head towards them. I move my index finger to the corner of her mouth. She breathes in again heavily. And licks the finger.