When I was posted in Germany

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When I was posted in GermanyI’m in the standing-room-only crowd on the floor at theJethro Tull concert in Frankfurt, West Germany, April 27, 1982. The crowd is constantly shifting; a single organism trying tomake itself comfortable on the concrete floor of the arena. Theair is thick with the smells of beer, wine, and smoke (cigars,cigarettes, pipe tobacco, and hash). Voices of the hawkers canbe made out above the noise of the crowd advertising (in Germanand English) their wine, beer, posters, and T-shirts. Cannedmusic is piped in over speakers in the rafters.The roadies are playing games with the crowd while doing thesound system checks. Frisbees and funny little glowing thingsfly at random through the air.I’m standing at the center of the stage, about 30 feet backinto the crowd. After the concert my ears will be ringing forthree days. I can live with that…The lights begin to dim and the crowd settles down as thedrummer for the warm-up band sets the beat on his high-hat. Thecurtains open, the spots blaze to life, and the crowd goes nutsas the warm-up band hits the stage with a hard-driving rhythm andscreaming guitars.I’ve never heard (or heard of) the band before. Probably alocal hired to warm up the crowd for Tull. They’re good at it -warming the crowd up, that is – but I don’t think they’ll make iton their own.The crowd is getting into it. The energy that bands live on- in their symbiotic way – starts flowing. People are pumpingtheir fists into the air – the air which is rapidly gettingthicker with the smell of hashish as the pipes are passed around.The folks are getting fired up!Surveying the people around me, my eyes come to a screechinghalt on a small cluster of young ladies who are definitelygetting into the rhythm of the thing. They’re dancing andscreaming and bouncing around as if it were the last night oftheir lives.One of the gals – a sweet young lady with waist-length,chestnut tresses in a yellow, knit mini-dress – is also surveyingthe crowd. Our eyes meet. I smile. She returns a knowing half-smilethat sends a shiver up my spine, before turning back to the bandon stage.The warm-up band finishes its sixth set with a flourish andruns off stage. The spots die and are replaced by the houselights as the curtains are closed for the intermission. Thecanned music begins to play.Once again, the crowd shifts as parts head for the restroomsto unburden themselves of the beer, wine, and soda consumedbefore (and during) the warm-up act. More beverages are bought,along with albums, posters, T-shirts, and popcorn. Only the mostbrazen are firing up their bowls with the house lights up.I look around for the clump of young women I noted earlier,but they have faded into the mob. Probably in line for therestroom, think I, as I turn back to the stage.The roadies can be heard moving equipment around on thestage. An occasional glimpse of a roadie with a guitar or an ampcan be seen through the small gap in the curtain.We wait for about half an hour as the stage is reset forJethro Tull. The tension of anticipation is like a physicalthing filling the arena; I feel as if I could float on it.Then the house lights dim, and the tension boils away in theroar of the crowd.The arena is black as pitch, and the crowd has settled intoits final configuration, when the first notes of the piano introto “Locomotive Breath” push their way through the crowd noise. Afew of us recognize the song from the first few notes and cry outin joy and appreciation. Others don’t realize what they arelistening to until the first whining guitar riffs have faded intoreverberating feedback.Then the stage is ablaze with light as the lead guitar isbanging out the opening bar of the song proper. Ian Anderson isdancing around the stage, twirling his silver flute as if it werea baton. The drums and bass are hammering out the beat as therhythm guitar is doing that rhythm thing.The crowd has sprouted a forest of pumping arms and theamplified sounds of the band are nearly drowned out by itstriumphant bellow.And even as Ian sidles up to the microphone to sing “In theshuffling madness/Of locomotive breath,” I look down to see ahead of chestnut hair bouncing and bobbing before me. The younglady with the misty-gray eyes looks over her shoulder at me. Hercrazy half-smile laughs at me when she turns back to the stage. Sorry, Ian, I think as my eyes drop to watch the sway of herhips and the play of her ass under the thin fabric of her yellowmini-dress. I’m delighted to notice that – by the way the clingyfabric gathers in the cleft of her ass – either she’s not wearingany panties, or she’s wearing a G-string. Fine by me! And,believe me, “fine” is the active word here!I feel my cock coming to life, its girth and length growingrapidly. By the end of the song, I’m throbbing to my own beat! The crowd goes wild as the song crashes to its end.”Guten abend, Frankfurt!” cries Ian to a crowd which provesthat is CAN get louder! “That’s the extent of my German,” headds. Laughter. “The next song we’d like to play for you issomething off our new album…” Dramatic pause. “…A littlesomething called `b**stie.'”The spotlights die, leaving the arena in darkness again. Ifeel the gal in the mini-dress back slowly into me. And with thefirst synthesized strains of “b**stie,” my throbbing memberthrills to the sensation of slow shift of her firm ass throughthe thick denim of my jeans.Does this woman Escort know what she’s DOING to me? I ask myself. As if in answer, I feel her hands reach behind her to grab myhips. She then pulls me tightly against her and moves her sweetass in a slow, grinding roll against my crotch.Any other stupid fucking questions?As I slide my hands around her waist, she turns in my arms. The spotlights come up on stage as she loops her arms around myneck and drags my face down to hers. My lips find her mouthopen. Her tongue like a hot, wet, fleshy spear drives into mymouth before my mind has time to catch up! Her firm, toned bodymelts against me as our tongues start to dance.Though my eyes are probably wide with surprise, the visioncenters of my brain are closed for business. The othersensations easily override any sights my eyes are trying to bringme. The warm, sweet smell of her. The sound of my moan drowningout her smaller one. The hot, wet, clean taste of her mouthgrinding hungrily against mine. I feel her hardened nipplespressing through her dress and my T-shirt into my chest. Thefeel of her smooth belly pressing firmly against my crotch. Theplay of her back muscles beneath my fingers.Who the hell needs eyes?!When our lips part, vision comes flooding back. Her face isonly a couple inches away from mine, and she is smiling thatdamned smile again! I start to say something, but she kisses mequickly again to shut me up. (Hey! I’m dense, but I’m not THATdense!)Smiling, she turns her back to me, once again, to applaudthe end of the song.Ian smiled, “I hope everyone’s having a good time.”Yeah, buddy!”Our next tune,” he goes on, “is something else off ourlatest record. It’s an odd little ditty called `Watching’!” The synthesizer starts turning out a bewildering combination ofnotes. The drummer soon picks up an odd, jerky beat which neatlycompliments the synth. It was a tune to which I had thought itwas impossible to dance. My lovely, chestnut-haired lady seemedonly too happy to prove me wrong.As her hips start moving in time with the drums, she takesmy hands from their resting place at her waist and slides them upher wonderfully smooth torso to the mounds of her breasts. Shethen reaches one hand over my head, grabs a handful of my hair,and pulls my face into the curve of her neck. Her other hand iscaressing the back of one of mine as I stroke her breasts with mypalms, brushing her nipples with the balls of my fingers.My mouth works its way – kissing, licking, nibbling -gradually from the outside of her shoulder, up her neck to herear. As my hands are lifting and kneading her tits, my tongue isdarting into her ear. She continues to press her lovely ass intomy cock as I, pausing for a bit to nibble on the lobe of her ear,work my way down to where her shoulder meets her neck.All the while I’ve been enjoying the taste and feel of herneck and breasts (respectively), I’ve been paying carefulattention to the song. When the song comes to its sudden end, Ipinch her nipples and bite her neck – not TOO hard, mind you, buthard enough for her to know I’m still here!Her gasp perfectly coincides with the last beat of the song. She whirls around and stares at me with a look of mock-indignation. Her misty gray eyes sparkle mischievously and herhalf-smile replaces the pettish pout. Slipping her arms aroundmy neck, she lifts herself off the floor and presses her lipsroughly against mine. The brunette’s pelvis grinds against mineas our tongues slip and slide upon each other. Her breathing hasbecome quite rapid – my own is none to steady!Suddenly, the young lady drops to her feet and twists aroundin my arms, once again facing the stage.Ian is gazing out at the audience. He starts to introducethe band – drummer, bass, new lead guitar, etc. – all the whiletwirling his flute like a baton.My companion, while looking up at the stage, is reachingaround to the front of my jeans. With deft movements sheunbuttons the top and pulls the zipper open. My engorged prickfairly leaps into her waiting hand. She feels the heft of myeight-inch cock, wrapping her slim fingers around, measuring itsgirth.Introductions over, Ian says, “This is the title cut off ourlatest album.” The crowd goes nuts. I can barely hear him as hesays, “Broadsword!” The stage lights die.The young lady with my dick in her hand uses her free handto guide one of mine to her left breast. She then pushes myother hand down, down past the hem of her T-shirt dress to thewarm, silky smoothness of her inner thigh.From onstage a slow, rhythmic beat – reminiscent of movie-style indian tom-toms – begins. Soon, it is joined by themoaning of a guitar. Anderson sings: “I see a dark sail/On thehorizon…”The brunette’s hand has moved to the head of my cock,feeling the mushroom shape, spreading the bead of my own moisturearound. Her hand slides back to cup my balls and give a gentlesqueeze. My face is buried in her neck. I moan softly as shebegins slowly stroking me.My hand is kneeding the inside of her thigh as it moveslingeringly toward the meeting of her legs. My loving companionwidens her stance to allow me easier access. I feel the heat ofher pussy against the back of my thumb. My other hand continuesto caress her left breast – stroking, rubbing, rolling the nipplelike a marble…I’m a little startled when the back of my thumb slidesacross her hot, wet, *clean shaven* cunt. I let my surprise Escort Bayan showsomehow, as my gray-eyed lover giggles and gives my prick acouple of quick squeezes.Thus encouraged, I hike the hem of her mini-dress a bit andbegin to slide my fingers across her slippery cunt. The hotwetness of her flows over my questing fingers. I hear her moangently as against my ear as the middle finger slips between herlabia. She readjusts her stance. My middle finger finds theopening of her vagina; my thumb, the button of her clit.I hear air sucking through her teeth. She releases my cock,bringing both of her hands around to press mine more firmlyagainst her pussy.I pull her back into me. My dick slides up under the hem ofher dress. For a moment, it’s 50-50 as to whether my prick willslide down and forward between her legs, or back and up againsther ass. The moment passes and the latter wins out. I feel mycock slip along the cleft of her ass as the middle finger of myright hand slides up to the second knuckle into her slipperyvagina.The lovely young woman grips my finger with her vaginalmuscles while she wiggles her ass. Soon, my prick is firmlyentrenched between the lovely, round lobes of her ass. It isquite happy to be there. Her head falls back onto my rightshoulder; mouth open, eyes closed.I begin to slide my finger in and out of her wet snatch, mythumb rubbing her joy-button, the fingers of my left hand rollingand pinching her nipple. I nibble her earlobe and watch her lickher lips.She begins to thrust her pelvis, in time with my probingfinger. Her thrusts are doing wonderful things to my cock,wedged as it is between her buttocks. She moans and turns herface to bring her mouth to mine. We kiss as hungrily as we canat this awkward angle.Jethro Tull has jarringly blended the end of “Broadsword”with the beginning of “Aqualung.” “Sitting on a park bench/Eyeing little girls with bad intent…” sings Ian as he dancesacross the stage.I feel a shudder run through my companion. The kiss isreleased and she draws air sharply between her teeth. She,again, moves her luscious buttocks, releasing my ridged member. She pulls my hand away from her crotch and turns in my arms toface me. She then kisses me thoroughly, pushing down on myshoulders until I’m kneeling. Widening her legs again, she grabsa double handful of my hair and pulls my face into her drippingcrotch.Without hesitation, I begin lapping at her cunt. Using mythumbs to spread her labia, I bury my face in her wet, hairlesspussy. The hot, musky sweetness of her rolls across my tongue asmy mustache brushes her clitoris.”Jesus Fuckin’ Christ,” I’m thinking. “I’m on my knees,eating this lovely wench right here in the middle of a hugeconcert crowd!” Then thoughts are wiped from my mind as Iconcentrate on trying to make the woman scream!I can’t see her face because of the poor lighting and thefabric of the T-shirt dress piled up in front of my eyes, but mycompanion’s fingers are clenching the hair at the back of myhead; grinding my face in her cunt. I can feel her breathing. Ican feel her knee against my ribs quaking.Presently, I focus my attention on her clit. I beginplanting tiny, sucking kisses upon her joy-button. Her fingersstop pulling at my hair, but she holds my head, as if she can’tdecide to pull me in or push me away. Shortly, I feel quiversrace through her legs with each kiss I plant.I slip my right hand between her thighs in such a way that Ican insert my thumb in her pussy and press my middle fingeragainst the rosebud of her anus. My thumb slides all the wayinto her lust-slick love tunnel, and I begin to wiggle the tip intime with the music.Now, the girl’s fingers begin to claw at the back of myhead. Her nails slowly dig into my flesh, as she starts toshudder uncontrollably. I feel her breath coming in gasps. Herknees are shaking so that I fear that she might fall.I push the tip of my middle finger into her anus. Thatlittle ring of muscle slams shut upon my finger like a jail-celldoor!Of a sudden, her entire body goes stiff. I clamp my lipsdown around her clit and suck; my tongue flicking the tip of thetiny cone of ridged flesh. She is trying to pull my whole headinto her cunt!My face is washed in the juices flowing from her pussy. Thetangy sweetness sends chills up my spine as my lovely companionis wracked with shudders. I’m almost forced to hold her up whileshe rides the waves of her orgasm!By the end of “The Teacher,” the song which follows “Aqua-lung,” the luscious brunnette has recovered enough to return thefavor. She gives my that half-smile of hers before dropping toher knees.For a moment she seems hypnotized by my throbbing prick asit bobs in front of her face. But she recovers quickly. Shewraps her delicate hand around the base of my shaft and pressesher lips to its head. Her tongue flicks across the tiny slit inthe end, catching up the bead of preseminal moisture which clungthere like a tiny pearl.I look down on her as she swirls her tongue around the headof my cock. My fingers are caught up in her hair; not pullingtoward me, but holding her head for lack of anything else to do. Presently, she engulfs the mushroom-like head of my dick withher mouth. She begins to suck on only the head as the hand shehad wrapped around the base of the shaft shifts to capture myballs. The sweet mouth of the young lady then begins to pull mein. Slowly, Bayan Escort inch by inch, she draws my throbbing member into hermouth and down her throat. Eventually, I feel her nose pressinto my pubic hair as my entire eight-inch prod vanishes betweenher lovely, sweet lips.She begins to slowly move her head up and down the length ofmy cock, never releasing the suction she has built. I can seeher cheeks dimpling with the suction of her mouth. She begins tobob and weave, rolling the head around with her tongue at the topof every stroke.Faster and faster, she pulls me in and releases me.I’m soon gritting my teeth. The fabulous sensation of hermouth and throat upon my cock is driving me crazy. I can feelthat old, familiar pressure beginning to build in my balls. Just as I begin to think I can’t stand it anymore, the brunnettebacks her had away until only the head of my prick is in hermouth. Then she begins humming along with the song being playedby Tull – “Cross-Eyed Mary,” I believe.My balls explode! When my cock jumps, I swear I must loosenher front teeth! I pump streams of slippery cream into her mouthand, try as she might, she cannot keep a thin trickle fromrunning from the corner of her mouth. The feeling of her swal-lowing my cum only prolongs the jolts of my orgasm.She licks my cock clean and uses her fingers to catch thetrickle running down her chin. My sweet lover makes a show oflicking this last dab of my cream from her fingers.I pull her up from the floor and our mouths meet in alingering kiss. I can taste my jism mingling with the sweetnessof her mouth. It only serves to turn me on further.Her cool fingers encircle my still ridged member and, usingit as a handle, she pulls me down into a kneeling position oncemore. This time, though, she is down here with me. She pushesmy back until I am sitting on my heels.As I watch in the dim light which filters between the peopleof the crowd, she releases my cock and grabs the neckline of herdress. With a jerk, she tears the neck apart. With another, thefront of her dress splits down to her navel. She pulls the flapsof fabric away from her lovely breasts. They are creamy smoothand no larger than baseballs. Her breasts stand out proudly fromher chest with puckered, pink nipples screaming for attention.Grasping a handful of my hair, she pushes my face into herleft breast. I pull most of her tit into my mouth, rolling hernipple around on my tongue. Her moan is lost in the crowd noise,but I feel it through my mouth.Moving carefully so as not to dislodge my sucking lips, thebrunette squats down upon my lap. Slowly, she impales herselfupon my throbbing cock. As she eases herself down, I can nolonger reach her tits with my mouth. I cup her right breast inmy left hand while my right arm circles her waist. With a flexof my thighs, I thrust my prod into her to the hilt. The grip ofher silken pussy upon my cock is sheerest bliss.For a moment we stay like this, my cock in her wet pussy asfar as it will go, my fingers pinching and rolling her nipple. Then, she eases herself up and I lower myself back to the floor. As she lets gravity pull her down onto my prick, I use my thighsto meet her halfway.Slowly at first, we continue in this manner, but soon ourrhythm is increasing in speed. She comes down on me, I move upto meet her. As we slide apart, her clutching vaginal musclesshow their reluctance in losing my cock.Faster and still faster we thrust ourselves into/onto eachother until we are each gasping for breath. Her head is thrownback, mouth open as, presently, I feel her body begin to shudderin the forewarnings of her orgasm. I, too, can feel the boilingsurge building in my testicles. I grit my teeth to hold theinevitable at bay as long as I can.When, finally, she can no longer hold out against therushing tide of her release, the brunette drops down upon my poleone last time. She hooks her legs around my back. She buriesher face in my neck, biting my shoulder through the material ofmy T-shirt. I feel her nails bite into my back.As for myself, I can but hold on. Both of my hands now holdher arching back as I feel her entire body tense. She isscreaming into my shoulder!I can stave off my own orgasm no longer. I hear myself gaspas my cock fires the first salvo off into her hungry vagina. Stream after stream of my viscous cum are thrust from my prick,only to be gobbled up by her clutching pussy.After an eternal minute, we are holding on to each other tokeep from slumping to the floor. We kiss tenderly. I stroke herback and she plays with my hair.A few minutes longer and we recover enough to climb to ourfeet. We are still each leaning upon the other, but we arefeeling stable enough to stand that way for a time.We watch the rest of the show holding each other. There areonly a few more songs before Ian Anderson calls his final “GoodNight!” to the crowd and vanishes from the stage. A few momentsafter that, the house lights come up.As the crowd begins to slowly filter out, my lovely brunettelover takes my hand. She licks the length of my index fingerbefore drawing it into her mouth. The wonderful sensation of hertongue sliding my finger as she sucks on it rapidly brings myresting prick to full attention.Smiling up at me for the merest moment, she takes my fingerfrom her mouth and pulls me along through the crowd by the hand. Holding the front of her dress closed with her free hand, shepulls me out into the cool night air. Our breath becomes thinplumes of mist in the chill April night.The young woman pulls me along until we reach her apartment,only a few blocks from the concert hall. We make love twice more that night and into the morning.

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