We were at an outdoor concert in late spring. The concert was being held out in the hill country, really back in the sticks, outside of New Braunfels. It was a rock concert and we were standing up close to the stage, her with her date and me with mine. It was evening, and it was dark except for the lights on the stage and we were dancing to the music just like everybody else around us. Every now and then I would see a glimpse of her breasts swaying beneath her flimsy blouse. I didn’t know her though she was a stranger who was very pretty. She attracted me like a magnet.
I danced a little closer and we bumped once or twice as we danced to the music. The soft fabric of her dress did nothing to hide the smooth and supple curve of her ass as I moved to the music, just behind her. We touched again, and by now I was developing a decided stiffness in the front of my jeans. Again we touched as we danced and bounced. This time I imagined that I detected a distinct rubbing of her soft butt against my hard crotch.
Alas the song ended and the moment passed without another en- counter. During the next song though, I again feel her press against me again, this time more insistently — trying to find out if what she was rubbing against was indeed what she thought it was. When I felt the touch come again I moved my hips forward and grind a little. Let there be no doubt, I thought. Yes, that is a hard cock you feel in my jeans. Yes, it is YOU that is making it so hard.