Concert at The Echo, bands I don't know. I crawl in solo and early, walking around before the show, making quick eye contact with a brunette in a hippie dress. Green eyes. Young. Half my age (isn’t everyone?). I get a drink at the bar, move around behind her 20 feet or so back. She’s obviously with some tall, galoot in a plaid shirt. He’s yammering at her about his job, what he does. Her eyes dart around the periphery and back to him when she thinks he’s looking at her, feigning interest. He never asks her a question, or even pauses to allow her a random innocuous comment. In fact, he doesn’t seem to really care if she is listening at all, he just presumes so. For the most part he keeps his eyes up in the rafters as he speaks. Glancing at the stage lights, the big, dark speakers hanging precariously in the corners of the room playing some decent, if non-descript CD of post-apocalyptic, West Coast, 80s punk.
She feels my eyes on her. I look up and down her body slowly, memorizing. She’s wearing a loose, hippie-type dress. Summery, muslin perhaps, short above her knees but low-cut with a little cleavage and a necklace I can’t quite see from 10 feet away in the darkened club. She feels my eyes on her, catching me looking her over. When he glances away from her, rambling, she smiles slightly and glances directly in my eyes. I do not avert. This goes on all during the first act, repeating like the incessant bass line. She seems to know the words to all of the songs. I know none of them. She’s obviously a regular and me just a newbie fan who hadn’t even heard of this band until the night before.
During the break I sit on edge of the stage and watch the crowd mill about. Some mating dances, lots of 20-somethings out for a night of rock n roll with packs of friends. She must be on a first date because who would hang with this moron more than once. Almost every time I look at her she is either already looking at me or turns her eyes slightly trying to be nonchalant and not obvious about it. Why her interest in me, I’m unsure. Other than the fact that my fearlessness at making eye contact might be a bit irregular for someone of her beauty and then again, perhaps I'm obviously just forward enough considering her hovering suitor.
During main band’s set, all sexy 70s harmonies and 90s grungy guitars with flashes of Bakersfield honky-tonk twang. She video tapes the whole thing. While the three guitarist front men are much closer to her age, she doesn’t sing along this set but keeps glancing away from her screen and out of the corner of her eye at me. She has positioned herself between the finally quiet boyfriend and the sweat-wet singers and her date is none the wiser. This has got to be a first date or perhaps the closing moments of something gone on too listlessly long.
Before the encore, he runs off with his peanut bladder, and I figure, impulsively, that I only have a minute or two. I take five steps to my left. Eyes locked on hers, her camera is at her side. Everyone else must presume I'm lurching, aching for rock star proximity in the pit when actually I’m scooching to the right over to her side to say, “Your red light is still on.”
“A-----”, she says her name softly, as if a forbidden secret shared.
“Hi. Who’s the guy? What’s is story?”
“He’s boring. He went to get one for the road. You really want HIS story?”
“No, just yours. You, live in town?”
“Yes, Silver Lake. I’m 25. You?”
“That’s two answers. I only asked one…I live in the mountains.”
“Nice…(she waits)”
“54, though I look MUCH younger.”
She giggles. “Older than my dad,” with a big beautiful smile.
Now it’s my turn to say, “Nice.” She laughs out loud.
“Great hiking up there waiting for you, come on up for a visit.” I smile big. She grins big back. I can’t believe how easy it is to just invite this stranger to my moungtain home, miles away. I’m kind of amazed myself. My balls hurt, they are so big. But I figured the dude would be back any minute. “Seen these guys before?” I ask, meaning the band.
“Seen the opener but not the other guys. You?”
“Nope. But they were awesome.” She giggles again. “You like Jeff Beck?...not Beck, Jeff Beck the guitarist?” Now, I’m throwing it out there fast. I am so sick of wasting time especially when I have nothing to lose.
“Sure, he’s got a girl on bass.” I don’t tell her it’s not that band anymore but I’m impressed she knows that.
“I thinking about trying to get tickets to see him in Pomona tomorrow night. Can I call you in the morning?”
She just recites me her number. Hold on…” I scramble for my phone. She repeats it and I get it in without area code, furtively glancing up to see “Mr. First Date” Coming from across the room, walking slowly concentrating to not spill his two full beers.
I start to ask a question, which she anticipates, “323.”
She was about 5’2”, natural, unpretentious looking girl, brunette, curly Joan Osborne type angelic hair. Pale skin. Curvy, dimpled smile. Eyes green like emerald pools. Nice body from what I could see. Not super skinny but not fat either. I liked that she was direct, only shy in the first 30 seconds of me approaching. She looked directly into my eyes when not casually looking around for her dude checking his whereabouts. She seemed very comfortable with my attentions. Quite nonchalant and natural. Wow.
Looking up, I see he’s about 10 feet away, and closing, hands soaked. She has both of their coats in her arms and he tries to hand her a beer and of course, doesn’t reach to help with the coats. Doofus.
Fortuitously, I get a call from my buddy who told me about the show. I turn and look down at my cell before the guy gets that I’m chatting up his girl. Stand there acting busy, texting, “I’m talking to a hottie.” I put my phone to my ear and then glance up at her and she mouths the words, “Call me,” as he leads her to one of the little tables that were emptying out over by the side wall. I head outside, leaning against a car parked curbside, hoping for one last glance. After about ten minutes, they get booted and stroll out into the night. As they pass my post, I look into her eyes and stick my hand against my chest and make it flutter. She smiles and walks by in Moron’s yammering wake.
I can barely sleep all night, anxious to call her. I wait until 11 a.m. the next morning, Sheer will power, I was thinking she was probably up late and didn’t want her to think I was too anxious. She answered on the second ring and said, before I had a chance to speak, “’Bout time you called.”
“How’d you know it was me?” I laughed.
“I recognized the area code. You sure were forward last night,” I hear the teasing under-her-breath smile curving the vorners of her mouth as she speaks.
“I apologize but I just couldn’t risk not seeing that look in your eyes again.”
“…or the chance of seeing me naked.” Boy, this girl was direct, pretty intense for a girl her age. I felt exhilarated but also a bit trepidatious thinking I should probably keep on my toes.
“So are we going to that concert tonight or is this a booty call?”
“Well, do you have a preference?” Two could play this game.
“How about you come over and fuck me and then we decide?” I had no problem agreeing to that but wanted to make her wonder for a moment. “What makes you presume I want to fuck you?” I queried, unconvincingly.
She hung up.
Oh shit. Now, who’s the doofus? But I could practically hear her laugh in the silence of her far-off room. On the tenth ring she picked up, torturing me.
“So that didn’t take long to decide, now did it?” she sounded reserved but playful, but what did I know, I hardly knew her. “Did it?” This time she said it a bit more forcefully.
“I will do whatever you want me to do, young lady.” She had me and I tested the waters to make sure she was ready and willing as she implied.
“In private, you call me Mistress Ann. I presume you know how to pay me proper respect when you address me?”
“Yes, Mistress Ann.”
“Good. Now when I am ready, I will text you my address and I will expect you there within the hour. I want you on your knees at my front door when I answer it. Barefoot. Now, go clean yourself up.”
“Yes, Mistress Ann.”
Showing posts with label public. Show all posts
Showing posts with label public. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Monday, January 17, 2011
BATHROOM ENCOUNTER
MY 1st GAYFEST
So my bi EXP and her lesbian girlfriend invited me to come out to my first Gayfest, the annual street fair in the “GayTown” section of Philadelphia. A 4x3 block area is cordoned off and all of the bars and restaurants do a rousing business while street vendors sell everything from t-shirts festooned with gay-centric logos, toys and trinkets for the discriminating leather boys and girls, great food, cold beer, LGBTG social, health and political groups distributing pertinent info, travel clubs hawking all-gay getaways and cruises, you name it. There is live music around every corner, stand up comics, female impersonators on stages set up in the crossroads, beautiful couples and packs of sweet young things everywhere getting their gay pride on.
It was a wonderful day, walking hand in hand with these two fabulous women, grabbing a great slice of Philly pizza on the street while a small skirmish broke out between jilted and very drunk lovers…and an evening capping couple of hours dancing upstairs at Woody’s on 13th St. followed by some less than fabulous show tunes at a piano bar around the corner.
But the highlight for me was a long waiting line for a bathroom break early in the day. We'd stopped into a joint for a cocktail and pee break. While the girls bellied up to the bar for frosty beverages, I grabbed a spot in the line that ran around the corner of the bar, back towards the three individual unisex maxi-closets that housed the facilities. In line, a buzzed a vociferous hottie gave her equally stunning gf a sloppy kiss and then waited behind me bouncing around like she’d waited just a titch too long to run for the commode.
“C’mon, baby. Do your man stuff and push your way in front of these people. You’re a big guy, whose gonna stop ya.” I held my ground not wanting to ruin my consistently good bathroom karma. Eventually a couple of young twinks couldn't wait any longer and bolted and we eased up to the doors in no time.
Each of these rooms with their smoked glass door and fancy dark walnut walls, brass fixtures was A-list appointed and large enough for 2-3 friendly people to go into at a time though they were really supposed to house a single. So as I walked in, my "line wife" burst in behind me, locked the door and said, “Hope you don’t mind baby, but I’m bursting a gut.
"Look at you standing there with your dick out. It’s so easy for you guys, ya just aim and shoot. You don’t mind if I show you what we have to go through do ya…” She pulled down her pants, giving me a flash of her thin landing strip and squatted, hovering over the seat.
“See never touch a thing...Caught a glimpse did ya? Me too, sweet... You’re still pissing? I’ll probably be here a while but don’t leave ‘til I’m done okay.” I turned around and flushed but took my time tucking my now semi-hard cock back into my fly.
She looks directly at him and says, “We’ll I guess it’s good that I got nothing you want and you got nothing I want. We could get in trouble in here.” She just presumed I was gay and not interested in her. Little did she know how much I wanted to just stick my cock down her throat and shut her up for a few minutes. I’m a full-service guy. Hahaha…
I washed my hands and she was still making noise like a busted North Philly fire hydrant. She stands up, leans into me and sticks her hands under my running water with her pants still around her ankles. She eventually dries off, pulls her pants up over her perfect round ass and turns and throws her arms around my neck, gets on her tiptoes and gives me a nice soft, wet kiss. “Thanks for keeping me company, doll. See you in a half hour in a bar down the street I’m sure,” and BOOM, throws open the door and leaves me there with a huge …smile on my face.
So my bi EXP and her lesbian girlfriend invited me to come out to my first Gayfest, the annual street fair in the “GayTown” section of Philadelphia. A 4x3 block area is cordoned off and all of the bars and restaurants do a rousing business while street vendors sell everything from t-shirts festooned with gay-centric logos, toys and trinkets for the discriminating leather boys and girls, great food, cold beer, LGBTG social, health and political groups distributing pertinent info, travel clubs hawking all-gay getaways and cruises, you name it. There is live music around every corner, stand up comics, female impersonators on stages set up in the crossroads, beautiful couples and packs of sweet young things everywhere getting their gay pride on.
It was a wonderful day, walking hand in hand with these two fabulous women, grabbing a great slice of Philly pizza on the street while a small skirmish broke out between jilted and very drunk lovers…and an evening capping couple of hours dancing upstairs at Woody’s on 13th St. followed by some less than fabulous show tunes at a piano bar around the corner.
But the highlight for me was a long waiting line for a bathroom break early in the day. We'd stopped into a joint for a cocktail and pee break. While the girls bellied up to the bar for frosty beverages, I grabbed a spot in the line that ran around the corner of the bar, back towards the three individual unisex maxi-closets that housed the facilities. In line, a buzzed a vociferous hottie gave her equally stunning gf a sloppy kiss and then waited behind me bouncing around like she’d waited just a titch too long to run for the commode.
“C’mon, baby. Do your man stuff and push your way in front of these people. You’re a big guy, whose gonna stop ya.” I held my ground not wanting to ruin my consistently good bathroom karma. Eventually a couple of young twinks couldn't wait any longer and bolted and we eased up to the doors in no time.
Each of these rooms with their smoked glass door and fancy dark walnut walls, brass fixtures was A-list appointed and large enough for 2-3 friendly people to go into at a time though they were really supposed to house a single. So as I walked in, my "line wife" burst in behind me, locked the door and said, “Hope you don’t mind baby, but I’m bursting a gut.
"Look at you standing there with your dick out. It’s so easy for you guys, ya just aim and shoot. You don’t mind if I show you what we have to go through do ya…” She pulled down her pants, giving me a flash of her thin landing strip and squatted, hovering over the seat.
“See never touch a thing...Caught a glimpse did ya? Me too, sweet... You’re still pissing? I’ll probably be here a while but don’t leave ‘til I’m done okay.” I turned around and flushed but took my time tucking my now semi-hard cock back into my fly.
She looks directly at him and says, “We’ll I guess it’s good that I got nothing you want and you got nothing I want. We could get in trouble in here.” She just presumed I was gay and not interested in her. Little did she know how much I wanted to just stick my cock down her throat and shut her up for a few minutes. I’m a full-service guy. Hahaha…
I washed my hands and she was still making noise like a busted North Philly fire hydrant. She stands up, leans into me and sticks her hands under my running water with her pants still around her ankles. She eventually dries off, pulls her pants up over her perfect round ass and turns and throws her arms around my neck, gets on her tiptoes and gives me a nice soft, wet kiss. “Thanks for keeping me company, doll. See you in a half hour in a bar down the street I’m sure,” and BOOM, throws open the door and leaves me there with a huge …smile on my face.
Sunday, June 22, 2008
DREAM #33470
I’m sitting in a favorite restaurant in Philadelphia waiting for Teena. She is late to work and the staff is worried about her. Suddenly I get a text mail from her. It says, “I have been tied to a tree in the park close by. You only have an hour to find me then they take me away back to Singapore. Help.”
I run out the door without paying for my food. Shannon follows and says, “Are you going to a movie? Can I go?”
“You’re boyfriend will be mad,” I say.
She says, “Teena has a boyfriend too, you know.”
“I know, she finally told me. I have an hour to find her,” and I run off across the street. I am worried because the park is big and there are so many trees. I ask people if they’ve seen a beautiful girl tied to a tree and they just laugh at me. I keep looking at my bracelet to tell time, like a sundial since I have no watch. I worry that I’m in the wrong park. A guy is playing bagpipes and it sounds horrible but I notice he is playing a song by Dave Matthews.
It is starting to rain lightly and I worry that time is going quickly. I think, “I barely got to know her now she will be in Indonesia.” I am very sad but running from tree to tree looking for her. I ask a park ranger who is wearing a tie-dye shirt and top hat and big, clown shoes if he has seen her. He says, “Maybe she’s in line to see the Liberty Bell.”
I scream, “No, you idiot, she’s tied to a tree.”
Suddenly, I hear a little kid say to his mom while the pass by, “Why is she naked, mom?” and I know he’s talking about Teena so I run in the direction they came from. I see yellow ropes in a BIG bowknot like a huge shoestring on a giant tree and when I run around to the other side, there she is. She is naked and I stop for a moment and just stare at her. I’ve never seen anything this sexy in my life. I walk up to her slowly and she has tears coming down her face but is smiling her incredible smile. “I knew you would find me Renaissance man. I knew it.”
“I need a knife to cut these ropes.” I look around but there is nothing and no one around. I look at my watch and there is only fifteen minutes left.
“Wait,” she says. “Now you can kiss me.”
“We don’t have much time,” I am looking under a bush for something sharp to cut the rope.
“But if they take me and we never kiss I will forever regret it,” she says softly.
I walk to the tree and put my hands on her hips. Her skin is so very soft. Leaning in, I whisper in her ear, feeling her sweet-smelling, silky hair against my lips for the first time. “I have waited so long for this…I am so nervous.”
“Kiss me,” she sighs softly and I look in to her eyes and my heart just races. I slowly find my lips moving toward her open mouth and she is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. A press my wet lips slowly against hers and she tastes so sweet, deliciously soft, and she leans into me against the ropes as I press my body to hers and suddenly I notice the ropes have fallen to the ground and her arms are over my shoulders as I wrap mine around her.
We are not in the park any more and I am carrying her in my arms up the stairs at her restaurant. She is wrapped in one of my big, soft shirts. There is a hidden room behind a curtain that I somehow know about and I walk through there.
I sit her down in a big bathtub full of warm water and silky bath oils that smell of springtime flowers. Only candles light the room and I feel someone sitting in a dark corner watching us. I slowly wash Teena’s face and arms, back and chest in the candlelight, watching the water slide down her body and shoulders, hearing her breathing quietly as if she is very content. I lean in and softly kiss her neck. She stands and I sponge bubbly warm water all over her. She balances with her hand on my shoulder. “My turn,” she says and I climb into the tub with all of my clothes on and she cracks up. So does Shannon whose laugh I recognize from her seat in the dark corner watching us. Teena begins to unbutton my now soaked shirt and over her shoulder I see Shannon stand and slowly walk towards us and then I wake up!!!”
I run out the door without paying for my food. Shannon follows and says, “Are you going to a movie? Can I go?”
“You’re boyfriend will be mad,” I say.
She says, “Teena has a boyfriend too, you know.”
“I know, she finally told me. I have an hour to find her,” and I run off across the street. I am worried because the park is big and there are so many trees. I ask people if they’ve seen a beautiful girl tied to a tree and they just laugh at me. I keep looking at my bracelet to tell time, like a sundial since I have no watch. I worry that I’m in the wrong park. A guy is playing bagpipes and it sounds horrible but I notice he is playing a song by Dave Matthews.
It is starting to rain lightly and I worry that time is going quickly. I think, “I barely got to know her now she will be in Indonesia.” I am very sad but running from tree to tree looking for her. I ask a park ranger who is wearing a tie-dye shirt and top hat and big, clown shoes if he has seen her. He says, “Maybe she’s in line to see the Liberty Bell.”
I scream, “No, you idiot, she’s tied to a tree.”
Suddenly, I hear a little kid say to his mom while the pass by, “Why is she naked, mom?” and I know he’s talking about Teena so I run in the direction they came from. I see yellow ropes in a BIG bowknot like a huge shoestring on a giant tree and when I run around to the other side, there she is. She is naked and I stop for a moment and just stare at her. I’ve never seen anything this sexy in my life. I walk up to her slowly and she has tears coming down her face but is smiling her incredible smile. “I knew you would find me Renaissance man. I knew it.”
“I need a knife to cut these ropes.” I look around but there is nothing and no one around. I look at my watch and there is only fifteen minutes left.
“Wait,” she says. “Now you can kiss me.”
“We don’t have much time,” I am looking under a bush for something sharp to cut the rope.
“But if they take me and we never kiss I will forever regret it,” she says softly.
I walk to the tree and put my hands on her hips. Her skin is so very soft. Leaning in, I whisper in her ear, feeling her sweet-smelling, silky hair against my lips for the first time. “I have waited so long for this…I am so nervous.”
“Kiss me,” she sighs softly and I look in to her eyes and my heart just races. I slowly find my lips moving toward her open mouth and she is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. A press my wet lips slowly against hers and she tastes so sweet, deliciously soft, and she leans into me against the ropes as I press my body to hers and suddenly I notice the ropes have fallen to the ground and her arms are over my shoulders as I wrap mine around her.
We are not in the park any more and I am carrying her in my arms up the stairs at her restaurant. She is wrapped in one of my big, soft shirts. There is a hidden room behind a curtain that I somehow know about and I walk through there.
I sit her down in a big bathtub full of warm water and silky bath oils that smell of springtime flowers. Only candles light the room and I feel someone sitting in a dark corner watching us. I slowly wash Teena’s face and arms, back and chest in the candlelight, watching the water slide down her body and shoulders, hearing her breathing quietly as if she is very content. I lean in and softly kiss her neck. She stands and I sponge bubbly warm water all over her. She balances with her hand on my shoulder. “My turn,” she says and I climb into the tub with all of my clothes on and she cracks up. So does Shannon whose laugh I recognize from her seat in the dark corner watching us. Teena begins to unbutton my now soaked shirt and over her shoulder I see Shannon stand and slowly walk towards us and then I wake up!!!”
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