So what the hell are you doing? screamed the voice in my brain. Rachel Smith, what in the world are you doing? Are you crazy? He’s probably some psycho stalker, some ax murderer who specializes in luring women to their deaths, you’re insane to be here!
And of course, the voice was right. I was insane to be here. But the thing is somehow that chat entranced me. There was a way about the man, a darkness to his tone that was devastatingly sexy, a deep, knowingness that permeated his every sentence. I can’t put my finger on it, but somehow the manner in which he parried with me, answering my questions with the subtlest replies, always guiding but never forcing, made something flare inside, something hot and sensual despite my logical brain trying to tamp it down.
So I was here now, on the steps of the Great American Music Hall. Whoever said curiosity killed the cat was probably right, because I was about to get my pussy fingered by a total stranger. Holy shit. Me, boring Rachel Smith, such a dunce that I actually gave my real name without thinking twice, is signed up for a rendezvous with a total stranger. And not just any rendezvous, but one where he’s gonna touch my sweetest spot, caressing places that no man has ever touched before.
Because I’m a virgin and yet I’m gonna let some random guy stroke my clit and push his fingers into my interior canal. I’m gonna let him feel me until I scream, until the swell breaks and I shatter. Me, Rachel Smith, who works at the school library wearing staid button-up sweaters and boring knee-length skirts. Oh my god, I really was crazy, someone take me to the insane asylum now.
But it was too late because the crowd swept me to the front of the line, and with unseeing eyes I presented the ticket to the usher. As she scanned it, a beep sounded, and the woman didn’t even look up, already onto the next person.
“Level two,” she mumbled. “Staircase to the right.”
Again, I was buffeted by the crowd, pulled by the human sea in the right direction and found myself standing at tier two sooner rather than later, stunned, the good angel on my shoulder still warning me to stop. Get a hold of yourself, she admonished. Get a hold of yourself. It’s not too late to back out. You can still turn around and leave, it’s fine.
But the thing is that the human tide had me boxed in, and besides, I didn’t want to leave. This is the craziest thing I’ve ever done in my life, and you know what? I kinda like it. I kinda like being different from my usual tame persona, the kind, dependable Rachel that everyone knows. Not that I don’t want to be kind and dependable, but I want to live a little too. I want to feel sexy and crazy, I want to let my hair down and do things that no one would dream of when they see a plump girl with curly brown hair and a shy smile.
Besides, it was too late now. The lights were dimming and I took my place at the edge of the railing, looking out over the sea of people beneath. Tier Two wasn’t too packed, there were other folks, sure, but it’s not like we were jammed in like sardines. I shot a nervous look over my shoulder, automatically scanning the crowd for anyone who could be my mystery man.
But there was no one. No one was even looking at me, every single person seemed to be with a date, or chatting with friends, or guzzling beer from red Solo cups.
Stop it, the voice in my head went. He told you not to look for him. You’ll never see his face, the only thing you’ll be experiencing is touch. So don’t even look, that’s part of the deal, remember?
Besides, it was probably better not to look because best case scenario, my Lothario was a normal, middle-aged dude, probably married, who wanted to get his rocks off while the missus was out of town. He’d put an ad up and I’d responded, and since wifey was scheduled to return to the next day, and tonight was the night. A married man? I didn’t want a part of that, so it was better not to see his face.
Besides, the worst case scenario was so much worse. In this case, my partner was some disgusting geezer who wanted to touch pussy for fun, who liked sweet, creamy teens and wasn’t shy about putting up ads to meet one. He couldn’t get it in real life because of his zillion warts and hairs sprouting out of his chin, bent over like a gnome. Shit, if that was the case, then yeah, I was better off not looking into his eyes. That way I could at least pretend a hot alpha had come to feel my pussy, to take me to Neverland.
Facing forwards, I fixed my eyes on the stage as the band strode out, jaw set, nerves on edge. Oh god, oh god, things were starting now and it was too late to back out. Every muscle in my body tensed, every sense on alert even as I strove to look normal, like I was another concertgoer enjoying the music.
And just as the strains began, a deep voice sounded in my ear.
“Relax baby girl,” it commanded. “Relax.”
I started involuntarily, helpless already. Because this definitely wasn’t the voice of a gnome. It was dark and sexy, making me twinge unexpectedly inside, inner channel running wetly. Warm breath skated across my neck and I realized the man behind me had to be tall, over six feet at least.
“Hi,” I said breathily. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”
But any small talk was cut off immediately. As the band launched into its first riff, the man behind me merely nipped my neck once lightly with his teeth, making me squeal out loud.
“No talking,” was all he ground out in reply. “No talking.”
And breathing hard, I nodded, sensations already on high. Of course no talking, right. We weren’t going to exchange any words, this was a completely anonymous encounter, a random stranger fingering my pussy until I came, and then dissolving into the woodwork like it’d never happened. There were no words, no faces, no names, no nothing, we were two strangers meeting in the night. So nodding my head slightly again, I forced myself to look forwards, eyes blind. Every muscle in my body was slightly tense, every nerve on edge as the big stranger moved in back of me.
And then I felt it. His hand on the outside of my thigh, caressing, warm, hot even, the palm curiously gentle for someone so big.
“Shit,” was all the voice said behind me. “Shit.”
I whined slightly despite his warning that I wasn’t supposed to talk. But this wasn’t talking, this was the animal sound of a woman in heat, a female ready to be touched and fucked. Because suddenly I didn’t care. I needed this to happen, desperately wanted it, and my ass bumped against him, begging for more.
“Horny little slut, aren’t you?” came a dark chuckle in back of me. “Horny, huh?”
But I was still now, unable to move, because on that one bump I’d felt something hard press against my flesh and it wasn’t his belt buckle. I’d instinctively raised my butt, seeking his touch, and my ass had brushed against a fucking hard snake. I’m a virgin, but I know aroused cock when it touches me, and oh god, but that massive staff wasn’t just hard. It was pure steel, stiff enough to punch through metal, and the realization made me even hornier.
“Please Daddy,” I cried out throatily, low so that no one could hear but us. “Please,” I begged.
The big man chuckled behind me, moving even closer, the rustle of his jacket evident. He pulled it forwards so that it shielded us, or at least shielded my ass, and then whispered in my ear.
“It’s coming little one, don’t worry, it’s coming.”
And just like that, the play started again. His fingers ran up the backs of my thighs, trailing lightly, teasing my flesh, making me shiver uncontrollably. But then they stopped, and I moaned, the anticipation almost painful, gyrating my hips desperately. But I knew why he’d stopped. Because I hadn’t worn panties and my partner had just discovered that fact, lightly sampling my bare, wet flesh.