The music thrummed and the people danced and swayed around me in the large warehouse that had been converted into a concert space. Up on stage, the Foals were doing a fantastic job playing with music, lights, and smoke. The crowd was eating it up, cheering and jumping in time with the beat. Large barn-style doors on either side and at the back of the Goat Farm concert space were open to the clear, cool spring night outside. Bars at either side of the back doors were doing brisk business selling beer and wine to the seemingly unquenchable masses. It was a truly perfect night for a musical experience. I wasn’t there for the music, although the band was surprisingly enjoyable. No, I was there for the crowd. There’s something about the dark, close, almost intimate confines of a concert crowd that turns me on like nothing else. Personal space shrinks to mere inches, and bodily contact is expected from random strangers. The anonymity of the entire thing is an inhibition annihilator, and in my current vanilla almanbahis life, few things are more enticing than losing my inhibitions for a few hours. As the music played and the people danced, I closed my eyes and swayed with them all. I reveled in their excitement, taking into myself the energy and arousal of this twenty-something crowd. My body was loving the reverberating bass beat that made my chest thump and my muscles tighten. The person I had come here with was lost in her own enjoyment, having come for the band experience. I left her to her music and let my eyes prowl the shadowy crowd, seeking. Standing directly in front of me was a man/boy. He couldn’t have been older than twenty-two years old, the tell-tale black Sharpie circle on the pulse point of his right wrist indicating he was old enough to drink. His wide shoulders, clothed in a fitted black t-shirt, gave way to toned arms. A strong-looking hand with long, well-shaped fingers came up to massage the back of his exposed neck. almanbahis yeni giriş Down below, narrow hips in dark-wash, loose-fitting jeans completed the bodily ensemble. Tousled, feathery, light brown hair looked real, not expertly styled. His skin looked so soft, and made me want to run an index finger along the nape of his neck to see for myself how soft. I couldn’t see his face, but imagined it would be boyish and cute. He seemed to radiate shyness and innocence as he stood nearly stock still while the music played. No dancing for this one. With hands in his front pockets, he stood quiet and still. The crowd had grown and tightened around us. I was standing mere inches from the object of my fascination, imagining what it would feel like to move those last few inches and press my breasts to his strong back. My body hummed, a soft pulsing starting deep in my core. Looking down the length of his back to his waist, I fantasized about wrapping an arm around him and pulling him against almanbahis giriş me. In my mind’s eye, I could see my thumb catch on the waist of his jeans, then move down to rub over his unsuspecting cock. In the pressing darkness, no one else would notice. I imagined his surreptitious breath sucking into his lungs and his hand covering mine, then pressing me tighter into his hardening flesh. The fantasy took me even further as I imagined pulling him out of the crowd, out of the concert space and down to one of the many dark corners of the warehouse lot. Once there, I could shatter his innocence by pressing him up against a rough-hewn wall, unsnapping and yanking off his jeans, spreading his legs wide before gripping his full erection and taking it in my mouth. I would give this young man the blow job of his life, sucking him deep into my throat and squeezing his balls until he came hard in my waiting mouth. I would glory in his groans and gasps as he worked toward his peak, then revel in his climax, all the while sucking and tonguing him to brain-frying ecstasy. Shaking myself out of that mind-fuck, I focused once again on him. Then, through no instigation on my part, he overbalanced his stance slightly and leaned back too far.