This Monday I really am being naughty as technically I didn't write In the Crowd under my Janine Ashbless name. It was one of a number of stories I did for the Nexus "Confessions" series, which were all anonymous pieces. But In the Crowd is my rock-chick "confession," and since I spent this last weekend at the Sonisphere festival, it seems the only appropriate thing to post...
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There was no chance of keeping a discreet distance from people in that press, of course. We were all bumping arms and shoulders, all hot and sticky with excitement. It took a while for me to notice that there was someone getting just that little bit too close. He was directly behind me, and though I didn’t look I knew it was a man because he was brushing up against my bum repeatedly, and he was hard. I mean it, he had a stiff one. I could feel it jabbing at the soft curve of my bottom. His chest brushed my back too. He had broader shoulders than me; that was all I could tell without turning round.
Dirty bastard.
Don’t think I’d put up with that sort of thing normally. This was a total stranger taking advantage of the crowd for a bit of filthy fun, and I’m no slag. I don’t like guys who get too pushy and take stuff for granted. But somehow this was different. I was high on the pounding music. I was delirious with adrenaline. I wasn’t me for the moment, not properly. So I didn’t pull away. I understood why he was hard; if I’d been a bloke I’d have been standing proud too, throbbing with the beat. As it was my knickers were damp, my pussy all swollen. I stood my ground and let him press up against me and then withdraw. There was a rush of heat to my sex. It just seemed part of the heady experience we were all caught up in.
I didn’t turn round.
After the first couple of brushes, he knew I was aware of him, knew I was letting him get away with it. He got bolder. He put his hands on the back of my hips, lightly, and brushed up against the whole line of my body. I kept my eyes on the stage. As the crowd swayed he pressed closer into me. I could feel the hard ridge of his concealed cock sliding across the leather of my skirt. I felt him put one hand on my bum cheek and squeeze, enjoying the firm flesh. Testing me, I guess. Then he began to rub my butt with his open palm.
I wriggled against him.
God, this was weird. Half my attention was on the stage, half on what was happening to my body. Despite the muggy heat my nipples were tightening to points, sticking out through my cotton top. I felt dizzy, not sure how this could be happening to me, how I could be permitting it.
The lead singer was crouched, hammering on his thigh as he roared into the microphone.
The guy behind me dipped his hand to the edge of my skirt, and when he swept it up again he came up under the leather, skin on skin, his palm on my bare cheek. He had dry, hard hands. He found the edge of my knickers and slid his fingers under the trim. I felt his nails on my skin.
I looked to either side then, trying to be casual. None of my neighbours seemed to be taking any notice of what was going on in the shadows below head-level. Down there a finger slid up and down the cleft of my bum. His other hand had vanished from my hip; all I had was that tickling tease of a finger. It almost hypnotised me - until he pulled my skirt right up and pressed something hot to the cool flesh of my bottom. I nearly fell into the people in front of me, only he grabbed me by the waist in time. He had his cock out in public, for Chrissake! And was rubbing it against me under my skirt! That thick hot cylinder nearly freaked me out. To be touched by a totally anonymous cock, one I hadn’t even seen…
To be used for my arse, by this nameless meat.
I could feel the teeth of his fly zip. I could feel wisps of his hair. I looked down and saw his fingers where he held me. Ringless, anonymous hands too, with blunt, clean nails. He was wearing a long-sleeved black T-shirt too, so I couldn’t see what his arms were like. He held me firmly against him, and his cock twitched impatiently as I caught my breath again.
Back and forth he rolled his cock across my bottom, from cheek to cheek, rubbing it against me. Rubbing it into the dip between the swells of flesh. It felt smooth and warm and hard enough to send a tingle right through me, imagining what he could do with that hard tool. Then, pushing it firmly down, he slid it along the gusset of my knickers. They were soaking wet by now - and not just from the heat either. He had to flex his legs to get down there, pushing hard into the slot between thighs and pussy lips. I wasn’t making it easy for him. I was keeping it tight.
I could feel the warmth of his breath on the back of my neck.
There was too much friction against the lace, I guess. So he used his fingertips to pull my knickers down, baring my bottom properly. Just as far as my thighs, though. I could feel the straining elastic biting into me. I could feel how damp the cloth was on the inside of my leg. I could feel how juicy my pussy was, now that it was bare, and heat rushed up my whole body.
Bare-arsed in a crowd of thousands…
He ran his fingers down my secret slash, stroking my sensitive bum-hole, my fuzz of hair, my swollen pussy-lips. He found how slippery I was, how sticky and eager for his touch. He made me squirm for him. Then where his fingers had gone, his cock followed.
He couldn’t shove it inside me, not without bending me right forward; the angle was all wrong. So he just stroked back and forth along my slot, between my thighs, in the wet and the heat.
‘Ich will,’ thundered the lead singer onstage: I want.
Nexus Confessions 4 at Amazon UK : Amazon US
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