Gropes 'n' Roses

It was Guns'n'Roses, 1989. We had the best seats in the house but neither of us knew just how good they'd turn out to be.

In fact, they weren't seats at all; we were in general admission in a standing area up against the barricade at the front of the stage. So close we could get splashed by the band's sweat. Being pressed up against the steel mesh meant there was nowhere to go once they'd started playing, and whoever we were next to we'd be getting pretty familiar with before the night was out. I remember looking around and being very grateful; there were gorgeous young women everywhere and, it turns out, you were one of them right in front of me.

Do you remember the crush? As soon as that first note rang out we were pushed from behind, people scratching to get nearer the band. At first I tried to avoid pushing into you, but of course it was hopeless. As I was pushed against the back of you, I cast a cautious eye at your face to try to see your reaction.

You didn't flinch, even though you couldn't have helped feel me behind you. Your ponytail flicked my face as the crowd swelled around us, and you would have felt my warm breath on the back of your neck. You were dressed for summer in a singlet and a loose, flaring cotton skirt, your lightly tanned shoulders highlighted by two sleek black bra straps poking from beneath the fabric of your top. Strands of your hair floated delicately around your neck as your ponytail bobbed in time to the music. I noticed a name bracelet on your arm....your name, I saw, was Matilda.

I tried to watch the band, but I couldn't. I was very aware of your firm body against me, separated only by a thin film of moistening fabric. As the crowd bobbed and lurched, you seemed reluctant at first to get too smothered but, as each song came and went, your willingness to allow the pressure to build between us made my pulse quicken. You must have felt my hard, throbbing cock pressed against your arse cheeks as we swayed along with the crowd.

After a few songs, and with my dick now throbbing, I leaned forward and placed my hands on your hips, and, when you didn't resist, I gripped more firmly. I was now steering your pelvis against mine as we rocked and rolled along with the music, and I could feel your sweat beading on your arms and exposed neck. Your back arched and you moved in time with my movements, and those of the crowd. It was a coordinated, sweaty moment of pure pleasure.

I gripped your hips more tightly and began to roll them around. You took my cue and rubbed your arse against my groin. Your dress was pushed up against my jeans, exposing your thighs slightly, and you seemed to have lost any inhibitions.

As the band slowed the pace, you leaned forward over the steel barricade to stretch your hand out towards the singer, Axl. Instinctively I looked down to see the fabric of your skirt rising up your thighs. My cock throbbed as your firm, pale skin was exposed to me and all those around me. Tentatively I placed a hand on the back of your thigh, midway between your knee and your arse. I watched to see if you would react; I thought I detected a slight but noticeable parting of your legs.

My hand crept up your thigh, feeling the long firm cord of your hamstring. You turned your head slightly, as if interested to see if I'd continue. I kept inching up your leg until I reached the elastic leg band of your underwear.

My hand stroked the firm, smooth curve of your arse. You turned and smirked a bit, clearly enjoying the careful groping. My hand gently rotated over your cheek, and I squeezed it slightly with every rotation. With each squeeze I edged my thumb further into your arse crack and gently pulled your cheeks apart. I could see this having an effect on you as you lifted your hips higher for me to get better access. You were now looking straight ahead, your concentration clearly fixed on what was going on under your skirt, rather than what was happening on stage.

Only now did I become aware of your friends next to you. They were eyeing me suspiciously, and watching you intently, apparently quite shocked at what was going on. Obviously this behaviour was out of character for you and I could see that they were waiting for the smallest indication of discomfort from you before intervening. But you weren't resisting, and, it seemed to them, were actually enjoying being probed. Their eyes were locked on the scene next to them, and their faces bore a more shocked look with each moment that passed.

Knowing they were watching stirred my passion further, and my blood felt like it was boiling in my veins. I raised your skirt so that the underwear covering your arse cheeks was clearly visible, and observed their reaction as they watched this. They watched intently. I ran both my hands up the back of your legs and slid my fingers underneath the elastic leg bands of your undies. I clenched your cheeks more firmly this time, firm enough to leave red marks, and saw your head drop as you felt a surge of pleasure. I massaged your arse as the band played and your friends watched, until one became so concerned that she leaned forward.

I saw her lean toward you and ask you something, perhaps whether you wanted them to get rid of the intrusive groper behind you. You shook your head no and, after a momentary look of confusion, she withdrew.

Your friends swapped glances wondering what to do while I continued to massage your arse. By this stage, others in the crowd had begun to catch on to what was going on and were trying to discreetly pry on the happenings. You were quite exposed but clearly so lost in the moment that it had no effect on you.

I wasn't the only one who was turned on by now. I could feel several sets of eyes upon us as I massaged your firm, smooth arse. I glanced at your friends and smiled and, before they could do a damn thing about it, yanked your pink panties quickly down and around your knees, then quickly knelt and flipped them over your shoes and into my pocket. When I stood back up you had turned enquiringly on me as if you'd suddenly realised where you were and what you were doing, but clearly the excitement that was by now burning through your pussy overwhelmed your demureness. But your friends were appalled and alternated staring unbelievingly and averting their eyes.

I chuckled to myself and admired your arse crack, so dark against the paleness of your cheeks and with just a few stray hairs within the crevice. It was such a sexy view and I leant back slightly to expose it to as many onlookers as possible.

I used my thumbs deep into your crack to spread your cheeks apart. There was no coming back from here, now you were exposed to the crowd -- and your friends -- and the eyes of the crowd burrowed into you. They could see your pink young arsehole glistening in the lights with sweat and pussy juice. As I spread you further apart your glistening lips were exposed, almost red with excitement and shiny with juice, the white fluid of your excitement clearly visible. While the crowd watched, I rotated my thumb over your by now exposed hard clit. We could see your cheeks and holes clenching with excitement, your exposed slit betraying to the crowd the intensity of your excitement.

By now I think your friends had conceded that you were happy to be probed and have your arse and cunt exposed to an eager crowd. The band played on, but around our little scene the band had been forgotten; all eyes were on your exposed slit, and my fingers that they knew were about to penetrate you.

I dipped my thumb deeply into your slippery cunt and rotated it so that it was soon coated and slick with juice. I took it out and replaced it with two fingers while I used my moist thumb to rub your arsehole at the same time. I could feel the squelch around my fingers that told me you were soaking, soaking wet, and I saw your back start to arch rhythmically in time to my finger fucking. I felt the walls of your cunt clenching my fingers that were now inside you up to my knuckles.

The anxiety of your friends had disappeared. I glanced at them and noticed their eyes fixed on your arse, watching my fingers manipulate and penetrate you. They moved automatically with the rhythm of the crowd, but their focus was on you, and they were now eagerly watching you burst out of your comfort zone to enjoy this illicit pleasure. For their benefit, I used both hands to peel your slit apart, your slippery pink hole now exposed to them. Your arse cheeks were clenching and unclenching almost in time to the music, and it seemed like you were enjoying being so exposed amongst this crowd.

I smiled at your friend and she grinned back. I gently slapped one of your arse cheeks and looked at her encouragingly to see what she would do. She took the bait and playfully slapped your other cheek. We both alternated between slapping and squeezing your spread, naked arse as the band strutted and blasted in front of us. The noise was so loud the slaps couldn't be heard, but they could certainly be felt, not only by you but by your friend and me.

She suddenly seemed to realise what she was doing and withdrew her hand with a bit of a start. I chuckled. You were yelling but it was impossible for anyone to tell if you were yelling at the band or from the excitement of being violated in public.

I saw you briefly look back at me, and I realised you were not far away from cumming. I again thrust my fingers deeply inside you, and watched you lurch forward involuntarily. My thumb was now pressing on your arsehole, and my fingers slid in and out of you as the band increased their rhythm on 'Welcome to the Jungle'.

I saw your hands gripping the barricade tighter and tighter, and your forearms flex as your body prepared to be overcome by orgasm. I worked my hand along, over and into your slit and the crowd around us was spellbound as they saw you starting to roll your head back and forward, your hair flying. Despite the din of the band, your screams and deep, long groans could clearly be heard by the crowd of friends and strangers who surrounded you. I saw your arse cheeks clench and release, clench and release, your head and hair roll forward one last time and your body go limp. I knew now that you'd cum and cum hard, and my soaking wet hand was covered with the evidence.

And, as happens sometimes in life, that was where it ended. The band played on, the crowd started to surge around us, and by concert's end we'd been separated. I went home content to have a happy memory, and your name imprinted on my brain. Matilda. And now here I am all these years later sitting at my pc screen and looking at facebook...good old facebook. I wonder if I can I find you, Matilda.