A Drummer and Black Lace

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Athletic

I’ve always loved all kinds of musicians, but for some reason, I’ve always been partial to drummers. I love their strong arms, strong hands, their single-mindedness, and level of endurance. Tonight I’m surprising a friend who is part of a quartet, playing in a small club, off the strip in Las Vegas.

We are both from around here so our paths cross once in awhile. He and I have a little bit of history…nothing too serious, lots of playing around, lots of feel-good fun. He’s always been kind to me and we’ve always been friends.

I heard through other acquaintances that he was having a rough time of it…experiencing the aftermath of a heartbreak, so tonight, I’m a woman on a mission to try and cheer him up.

These days, you have to walk through a wall of smokers before hitting the front door to this club. I used to work here so I know the ins and outs of this place. It’s not as smoky inside as it used to be, though. I hear “Something to Talk About” by Bonnie Raitt and I know I’m in the right place. I strain to see the band through the crowd. I try to squeeze through crowd to get closer to the band, fighting off an occasional ass-grab as I go.

I waited for the song to end and yelled out his name. He canlı bahis şirketleri looked up, our eyes met and he proceeded with a collection of hand signals which I interpreted as “Let’s talk at the break.”

While I waited for his break, I asked one of my fellow server friends from the past if the boss was in tonight. She said no and told me his office was unlocked. I went to the back and opened the door. I gave it a once over, straightened it up a little, cleared off the Naugahyde sofa, then stepped out and got us a couple of drinks – wine for me, a refreshing beer for him.

I heard the familiar announcement, ” Thanks, everybody. We’ll be back in 15.”

Okay. I have fifteen minutes to accomplish this mission. Everyone went back to their chit-chat, some went outside to smoke. I stepped out of the back, waved him down and we both moved into the back office. I closed the door and locked it, then stealthily unbuttoned my top two buttons. I wanted the lace of my new black lingerie to show. I knew this guy loved cleavage and lingerie. I handed him his beer and we toasted to life. He admitted he was feeling low and that this was his third beer tonight. I thought, “Lucky me. He’s already primed.”

Conscious canlı kaçak iddaa of the time, I gulped my wine trying to get a buzz a little quicker. I could see this unhappy soul was chugging his beer. That’s okay. Having a partial beer on hand is one less distraction. I directed him to the sofa and pushed him down to sit. Doing a quick striptease to the house music, I kicked off my shoes, shimmied off my jeans and unbuttoned my shirt. He took the cue and kicked off his shoes. I unbuttoned his pants, pulled his pants down his legs and was delighted to see he was not wearing underwear. I crawled up his legs and squatted above his cock, then rubbed my satin-covered pussy along his shaft.

Trying to beat the clock was so exciting. I only had fifteen minutes (now ten minutes). He was mesmerized by my lingerie and started touching me all over. The black, lacy corset pushed my breasts up and together. The top of my nipples were just peeking above the lace trim. I bent over and moved closer to him so he could bury his face in my bosom and then he began licking my cleavage. I could feel my nipples hardening to attention. He ran his hands over my black thigh high stockings…and thank goodness, I chose crotch-less, canlı kaçak bahis black panties. That made this mission so much easier.

I moved down and saw his cock was semi-erect so I bent over and began licking it and then forcefully jammed the whole thing in my mouth for lubrication. I could hear him moaning and now he was hard as a rock. I slid back up his torso, straddled him, and lowered myself down guiding his slippery hard-on through the slit in my panties and then inside my wet pussy.

I was squatting above his lap moving up and down with a little bit of urgency – he’s only got seven minutes left. “C’mon, my friend, you can do this!”

Finally! With a final prolonged moan, he came! I slid off quickly and cleaned us both up with cocktail napkins that were piled on the boss’s desk. I put my jeans and shirt on, then put his pants on, then struggled with our shoes. I helped him stand and he was unfortunately pretty woozy. I need to get this guy some caffeine. I put my arm around his waist, his arm was around my shoulders, and we walked out of the office.

I yelled to the bartender that I needed an iced cola ASAP. He complied. My friend guzzled it. “One more, please.” I said. He drank this one down too. The band was starting to warm up. I could tell he was starting to wake himself up while I was walking him over to his drum stool. I could hear Pharrell’s “Get Lucky” starting to play right on cue. He was smiling when I left…mission accomplished.

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