The next morning she was overcome again, waking and moments after being filled with the memories of the night before. It was intense; she remembered most of all Jack's hands, on her head, the force of them. Big hands on her body. And he'd kissed her, too. Right there in front of everybody. She reached again for the dildo, and went down to breakfast happily flushed but with need growing in her already again. Her libido, always sky-high, had been supercharged by this encounter. If Jack didn't show up tonight, she'd have to find another guy like him, a guy who knew what the fuck he was doing. She needed more of this.
She showered at seven, nervousness not as high as she would have thought. Something about him--he'd kissed her, he'd been somehow gentlemanly throughout, he wasn't going to stand her up. She knew it. She dressed in her typical semi-fashionable yet geeky clothing, a short-ish skirt, stockings, and vintage t-shirt. She looked at herself in the mirror, and that took her back to her glorious post-face-fucking masturbation. She pulled on a lace thong, another surreptitious purchase. She looked fucking hot, but not out of line at all. The stockings were a bit much, but compared to what some of her friends wore she was practically demure.
As it drew closer to eight, she barely maintained her calm. Finally, one minute before eight o' clock came, the doorbell rang. She wondered briefly if she ought to play some waiting game before just tearing off to open the door. And he was there, just as cute as she remembered from the night before, dressed casually and smiling that awesome, cheeky smile of his.
"Just let me get my purse," she said simply, and stepped back inside so he wouldn't see her vast smile of celebration as she grabbed the purse containing the backstage passes.
She stepped out the door with him and took his hand and he leaned down and kissed her again and again--their hunger for each other sparking when their lips touched. His hands went around her waist and hers pressed flat against his chest. His tongue forced its way in her mouth and she fought back with hers and for a few moments they were lost in that before breaking apart.
"Holy hell," he said quietly.
"Let's go," she said, pulling his hand, leading the way towards the train station. It was only a few stops before they were off again, having spent their time on the train just pressed up against each other. She led the way again to the concert venue, a medium-sized hall with a big wooden dance floor. They got to duck behind the barrier in the street by showing their passes. Jack had never actually been backstage at a concert before; his friends in bands tended to be playing in a space carved out in a crowded bar. This was altogether a different level. All around them, people actually doing stuff walked up and down the halls, a lot of people looking like accountants mingling with a lot of people looking like they'd wandered off a music video. Kristine kept hold of his hand, and some people who knew her said "Hey," and then gave Jack a look. She smiled at that; she'd considered, when she spotted Jack and felt curious about him, trying for some subtle thing, but his calling of her bluff on kissing had made her want this instead; full public acknowledgement. As they stopped to talk to a friend of hers--a cool sound techie she hadn't seen in awhile, Jack unselfconsciously slid his hand around her waist, pulling her into him.
She introduced him to the band, who he hadn't really seen last night--people were bringing them drinks, so they'd had no reason to approach them. They were all high as kites, which was pretty hilarious an hour before the gig. The opening band went on, laying out some pretty credible Garbage-inspired stuff. Jack was surprisingly cool to just hang out with; she was slightly self-conscious about boring him or something but he seemed interested in her stories about being backstage; as soon as her sister had gotten into this stuff, Kristine had tagged along and helped out, everything from folding t-shirts in the beginning to helping book travel once her sister's bands had made it big.
A few minutes before the band was actually going to go on, she led him out through the security cordon to the main dance floor, jam-packed with people. He went first then, helping to push through the crowd until they were close to the stage. She could have watched from the wings or a reserved press area up front, but she always loved being in the midst, and besides, she wanted to be pressed close to him. He stood behind her, his hands on her waist, and she pushed back against him, her ass into him, and his hands tightened on her in response. She felt herself getting aroused from just this, as the band finished tuning and the lead singer addressed the crowd on the microphone. Then his hand slid up her side to cup her breast, his hand outside her shirt for now but unmistakable. There in the middle of the crowd, his big body behind her, his strong hand on her breast, pushing it back against her.