CHAPTER TWO
Rachel
I stepped up to Will Call.
“Um hi, Smith?” I asked hesitantly. “Rachel Smith?”
The cold air was chilly and I shivered in my thin jacket. But even more, I trembled because this whole thing was so nerve-wracking. I was half sure that the woman would look through her stack of tickets and come up with nothing, embarrassing me. But instead, the middle-aged hag cracked her gum loudly, before sticking out a hand.
“Here ya go,” she said, looking bored. “Here ya go.”
And looking down, sure enough, there was a ticket for the second tier, standing room only. People milled about around me, the crowd buzzily excited for tonight’s performance. But I was dumbstruck, all the blood draining from my body. Oh my god, was I really gonna do this? Oh my god, oh my god.
My thoughts were cut off by the Will Call woman’s impatience.
“Next!” she bawled loudly, already eyeing the long line behind me. “Next!”
And with dazed steps, I moved out of the way, caught by the swell of passerby, moving with numb feet towards the door. Could this be really happening? Was I going to meet up with my unseen correspondent, this guy who called himself Donny? Why did he call himself Donny anyways? It was such a funny name, bringing to mind Donnie Wahlberg of New Kids on the Block, a former boy bander from the wrong side of Boston. Was my anonymous guy the same type of Donny? Once cute but aging now, with squinty eyes and a buzz cut? Or was he something else entirely?
And that’s why this whole thing is so crazy. Because I’m at the Great American Music Hall after chatting on-line with a virtual stranger. And it’s not like we’ve been chatting for weeks or months. We’ve only chatted once. That’s right, once, this afternoon. Other than the initial email he sent me on Discreet Encounters, we’ve only had one on-line session, and my partner in crime was completely unforthcoming then, telling me nothing about himself despite my not-so-subtle attempts to pry.
So what the hell are you doing? screamed the voice in my brain. Rachel Smith, what in the world are you doing? Are you crazy? He’s probably some psycho stalker, some ax murderer who specializes in luring women to their deaths, you’re insane to be here!
And of course, the voice was right. I was insane to be here. But the thing is somehow that chat entranced me. There was a way about the man, a darkness to his tone that was devastatingly sexy, a deep, knowingness that permeated his every sentence. I can’t put my finger on it, but somehow the manner in which he parried with me, answering my questions with the subtlest replies, always guiding but never forcing, made something flare inside, something hot and sensual despite my logical brain trying to tamp it down.
So I was here now, on the steps of the Great American Music Hall. Whoever said curiosity killed the cat was probably right, because I was about to get my pussy fingered by a total stranger. Holy shit. Me, boring Rachel Smith, such a dunce that I actually gave my real name without thinking twice, is signed up for a rendezvous with a total stranger. And not just any rendezvous, but one where he’s gonna touch my sweetest spot, caressing places that no man has ever touched before.
Because I’m a virgin and yet I’m gonna let some random guy stroke my clit and push his fingers into my interior canal. I’m gonna let him feel me until I scream, until the swell breaks and I shatter. Me, Rachel Smith, who works at the school library wearing staid button-up sweaters and boring knee-length skirts. Oh my god, I really was crazy, someone take me to the insane asylum now.
But it was too late because the crowd swept me to the front of the line, and with unseeing eyes I presented the ticket to the usher. As she scanned it, a beep sounded, and the woman didn’t even look up, already onto the next person.
“Level two,” she mumbled. “Staircase to the right.”
Again, I was buffeted by the crowd, pulled by the human sea in the right direction and found myself standing at tier two sooner rather than later, stunned, the good angel on my shoulder still warning me to stop. Get a hold of yourself, she admonished. Get a hold of yourself. It’s not too late to back out. You can still turn around and leave, it’s fine.
But the thing is that the human tide had me boxed in, and besides, I didn’t want to leave. This is the craziest thing I’ve ever done in my life, and you know what? I kinda like it. I kinda like being different from my usual tame persona, the kind, dependable Rachel that everyone knows. Not that I don’t want to be kind and dependable, but I want to live a little too. I want to feel sexy and crazy, I want to let my hair down and do things that no one would dream of when they see a plump girl with curly brown hair and a shy smile.
Besides, it was too late now. The lights were dimming and I took my place at the edge of the railing, looking out over the sea of people beneath. Tier Two wasn’t too packed, there were other folks, sure, but it’s not like we were jammed in like sardines. I shot a nervous look over my shoulder, automatically scanning the crowd for anyone who could be my mystery man.
But there was no one. No one was even looking at me, every single person seemed to be with a date, or chatting with friends, or guzzling beer from red Solo cups.
Stop it, the voice in my head went. He told you not to look for him. You’ll never see his face, the only thing you’ll be experiencing is touch. So don’t even look, that’s part of the deal, remember?
Besides, it was probably better not to look because best case scenario, my Lothario was a normal, middle-aged dude, probably married, who wanted to get his rocks off while the missus was out of town. He’d put an ad up and I’d responded, and since wifey was scheduled to return to the next day, and tonight was the night. A married man? I didn’t want a part of that, so it was better not to see his face.
Besides, the worst case scenario was so much worse. In this case, my partner was some disgusting geezer who wanted to touch pussy for fun, who liked sweet, creamy teens and wasn’t shy about putting up ads to meet one. He couldn’t get it in real life because of his zillion warts and hairs sprouting out of his chin, bent over like a gnome. Shit, if that was the case, then yeah, I was better off not looking into his eyes. That way I could at least pretend a hot alpha had come to feel my pussy, to take me to Neverland.
Facing forwards, I fixed my eyes on the stage as the band strode out, jaw set, nerves on edge. Oh god, oh god, things were starting now and it was too late to back out. Every muscle in my body tensed, every sense on alert even as I strove to look normal, like I was another concertgoer enjoying the music.
And just as the strains began, a deep voice sounded in my ear.
“Relax baby girl,” it commanded. “Relax.”
I started involuntarily, helpless already. Because this definitely wasn’t the voice of a gnome. It was dark and sexy, making me twinge unexpectedly inside, inner channel running wetly. Warm breath skated across my neck and I realized the man behind me had to be tall, over six feet at least.
“Hi,” I said breathily. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”
But any small talk was cut off immediately. As the band launched into its first riff, the man behind me merely nipped my neck once lightly with his teeth, making me squeal out loud.
“No talking,” was all he ground out in reply. “No talking.”
And breathing hard, I nodded, sensations already on high. Of course no talking, right. We weren’t going to exchange any words, this was a completely anonymous encounter, a random stranger fingering my pussy until I came, and then dissolving into the woodwork like it’d never happened. There were no words, no faces, no names, no nothing, we were two strangers meeting in the night. So nodding my head slightly again, I forced myself to look forwards, eyes blind. Every muscle in my body was slightly tense, every nerve on edge as the big stranger moved in back of me.
And then I felt it. His hand on the outside of my thigh, caressing, warm, hot even, the palm curiously gentle for someone so big.
“Shit,” was all the voice said behind me. “Shit.”
I whined slightly despite his warning that I wasn’t supposed to talk. But this wasn’t talking, this was the animal sound of a woman in heat, a female ready to be touched and fucked. Because suddenly I didn’t care. I needed this to happen, desperately wanted it, and my ass bumped against him, begging for more.
“Horny little slut, aren’t you?” came a dark chuckle in back of me. “Horny, huh?”
But I was still now, unable to move, because on that one bump I’d felt something hard press against my flesh and it wasn’t his belt buckle. I’d instinctively raised my butt, seeking his touch, and my ass had brushed against a fucking hard snake. I’m a virgin, but I know aroused cock when it touches me, and oh god, but that massive staff wasn’t just hard. It was pure steel, stiff enough to punch through metal, and the realization made me even hornier.
“Please Daddy,” I cried out throatily, low so that no one could hear but us. “Please,” I begged.
The big man chuckled behind me, moving even closer, the rustle of his jacket evident. He pulled it forwards so that it shielded us, or at least shielded my ass, and then whispered in my ear.
“It’s coming little one, don’t worry, it’s coming.”
And just like that, the play started again. His fingers ran up the backs of my thighs, trailing lightly, teasing my flesh, making me shiver uncontrollably. But then they stopped, and I moaned, the anticipation almost painful, gyrating my hips desperately. But I knew why he’d stopped. Because I hadn’t worn panties and my partner had just discovered that fact, lightly sampling my bare, wet flesh.
“Little slut, aren’t you?” he rasped directly into my ear. “What little whore doesn’t wear panties? Nasty little cumbuckets, that’s who.”
The words should have made me so angry, should have turned me off, they were so demeaning. But instead, I only wanted it more, the heat inside ramping up a million degrees because yeah, tonight I wanted to be a man’s cumbucket. I wanted to throw my inhibitions to the wind and become a receptacle for a strange male, to let him finger me everywhere, touch where he wanted, using my body until I collapsed.
“Oh yeah Daddy,” I breathed, cunt dripping wildly. “I’m your cumbucket, only yours.”
He grunted in back of me, that thick, hot dick brushing my ass again.
“Not tonight, you’re not, you’re just a fingerholster tonight. But later, I promise,” he whispered into my ear again. “Later baby girl.”
And with that the big man began his exploration once more.
“Mmm, I like,” he ground out, low for my ears only. “I like a lot.”
I whined slightly, wiggling my butt. Because the man was stroking my curvy rump, running his fingers over that ass before gripping the flesh and squeezing hard, making me jump. Oh god, it felt so good as he kneaded and massaged, and I held perfectly still, letting him touch wherever he wanted, wild and wanton.
“I’m not even there yet,” he rumbled, deep voice amused and smooth. “I haven’t even touched Wonderland yet. But we’re getting there.”
Because slowly, oh so slowly, his fingers began to worm their way in. No, not into my vaginal channel, not yet. Instead, he put two fingers against the small of my back, pointing downwards, and began a slow slide vertically. That’s right, he pushed two digits down my back and slid right into my butt crack making my eyes fly open. Was this really happening? Was this man really reaching down deep between my ass cheeks, slightly sweaty and plump? Was he really gonna to touch my anus, that nasty, private hole?
And oh yeah, but Donny’s not a man to hesitate. Because in one fell swoop, that huge hand was buried between my butt cheeks, the mounds of flesh squeezing him tight. And pausing for a moment, the big man enjoyed it, wiggling his fingers as heavy buttocks clamped around him.
“I love a woman with extra curves,” he rasped into my ear. “And fuck baby, but you’ve got ‘em.”
My entire body went hot then, pussy streaming wetly. Because oh yeah, I’m a big girl and sometimes it’s not easy. Sometimes it’s embarrassing if the space between restaurant tables is a little small, or if you have to ask for the seatbelt extender on the plane. But now, his words made me feel so wanted, so desirable and utterly female. Because I was doing something a skinny chick couldn’t. My ass is so generous, my rump so big that he could bury two fingers inside and get lost in the clamminess, the ginormous mounds eating him up.
But Donny didn’t stop there.
“Sorry baby girl,” he panted into my ear. “But Daddy doesn’t have time for playing with your back hole now, I gotta fuck the good stuff.”
Because his fingers slid lower, lower, all the way through my butt cheeks until they stroked my pussy. And once there, I sighed gustily, eyes drifting shut, whole body going weak. Because those digits caressed my lips, touching the soft swollen folds, sampling the slickness that oozed from my honey hole just for him. Oh god, it felt so good, but to my utter dismay, a hot rush of goo gushed out just then, filling his palm with desire.
“Oh!” I cried out, half-twisting with humiliation. “Oh!”
I wasn’t sure what I was going to do, pull away and show everyone my naked pussy, flashing female assets at the crowd? It was so embarrassing to be this wet, like I was some kind of oozing lagoon.
But the big man pinned me in place with an arm across my lower back effortlessly, making it impossible to move.
“Naw baby girl,” he rumbled. “This is what I live for, I love female honey. Do it again,” he commanded.
And to my embarrassment, I did. The ambrosia was running like a waterfall between my legs now and at his words, another giant gush came rolling out, over-filling his palm. My ears flamed, face so hot. Oh god, oh god, I was such a slut, such a whore creaming like this for a man I didn’t even know. I stood stock still, trembling with combined lust and embarrassment, mind pinging in a dozen different directions. Was this really me? Was this really happening? Who was this man again? What was I doing here?
But Donny didn’t give me time to snap back to reality. Instead those magic fingers kept going, taking me for a ride. Chuckling darkly, he started caressing me for real. Up and down, up and down, his fingers stroked my swollen labia in a rhythmic fashion, making me squirm, each brush against my clit so tantalizing, shivers running through my cunt. And oh fuck, but my clit grew like a monster. I have a huge one when aroused, it’s two inches long, sticking out from my labia and I squealed as he brushed it.
Because oh yeah, the strange man behind me pinched it once, making me shriek, before settling into a deep pussy rub, currents of electricity running through my frame, cunt weak with need.
“Ah!” I cried out involuntarily, knees buckling. “Ah!”
The arm around my waist tightened, supporting me. But Donny wanted more.
“Hold onto the bannister,” he ground harshly into my ear. “Hold onto the bannister and spread ‘em.”
Like a woman in a trance, I did as commanded. Wobbly and breathing fast, I gripped the railing, leaning my shoulders forwards like I was trying to get closer to the music and subtly spread my legs. Was it good? Was it what he wanted? A dose of reality hit me for a sec and I came to, startled. Oh my god, I’m a curvy girl and he could feel exactly how big I was down there. No thin, skinny thighs, no flat pancake butt. I’m all about huge ham hocks for legs, dimpled and sweet and a giant butt, the better to shake. In fact, I’d already shaken it and bumped into his dick by accident, my real estate was so significant.
But evidently Donny liked what he saw because as I spread, he rumbled deep in his throat.
“Yeah, just like that,” the masculine rasp came. “Fuck yeah.”
I melted. Okay, so the man wasn’t exactly poetic but I didn’t care. He liked what he saw judging from the way his hand was touching me again, and I swallowed a choked gasp, body rippling with shudders. Because oh god, oh god, it felt so right to have his fingers on my twat, massaging my hole, slipping all over my secret space before niggling my clit again, making my whole body thrum.
But I didn’t come here just for an external massage. I wanted a deep fingering, I wanted a man in me, even if it was his hand and not his dick. So swallowing thickly, I bumped my butt suggestively against his cock again, making the big man shudder.
“Inside big boy?” I murmured throatily, spreading my thighs a little more. “Put it inside?”
A low chuckle rang in my ear.
“Fuck, you’re nasty aren’t you?” he ground out in a whisper. “But of course, happy to deliver sweet thang.”
And with that, his finger made its first entrance into my secret space. I threw my head back and moaned, unable to keep it in. Oh god, it felt so good, pussy spreading slightly, opening a bit to its first taste of man. Oh god, wet juices leaked from my hole, lubing the way, making the alpha chuckle harshly again.
“What a slut,” he rasped. “What a slutty slut.”
But I wanted it. I wanted to be that slut, for his eyes only. So widening my stance, I did something that I’ve only seen in porn before. Reaching back with both hands, I grabbed fistfuls of ass cheek and pulled my butt apart, bending over more to give him better access.
“Further,” I whimpered, eyes shut as I breathed. “Put it in more.”
And with that, the finger began the push again, wedging itself into my secret space, stroking the walls of my vaginal chamber. Oh god, it felt so good, legs spread so wide now, holding myself open as a strange man delved into my twat. Oh god, this was so wrong and yet I absolutely loved it, acting the nasty whore. And holding nothing back, I did something that even surprised me, throwing me for a loop. Because letting go of one ass cheek, I reached behind myself and seized his wrist.
“More,” I panted, taking him by surprise. “More, more.”
And with that, I literally shoved his hand up into my pussy further, like I was some dirty whore, desperate to have a man as deep into me as possible. Holy shit, why was I acting like some kind of deranged nympho? Was I really that sex-crazed slut who grabbed strange men’s hands and literally pushed them into their vaginas, forcing male appendages into cunt? It was so crazy but even as I did it, my pussy juiced more, welcoming the finger as it made its way inside. I was so full, so stretched and so fucked, bent over, pushing a strange man’s hand up my streaming twat.
The big man chuckled behind me, that deep voice amused. But then Donny stopped. He halted entirely, hand still buried in my secret space.
“What is it?” I panted, practically falling over the railing now. “What is it?”
I was so desperate that I wiggled my hips again, trying to get him inside further. I would have turned to look at his face, but that was against the rules.
And there was no sound except the harsh rasps of his breath. But Donny’s next words made my blood turn into ice.
“You’re a virgin,” he ground out. “You’re a fucking virgin.”
I paused. Of course, the alpha was absolutely right, but was that bad? What should I do? I decided to try and play it off, act like it was nothing.
“What do you mean?” I panted. “How do you know?”
And suddenly it became clear. Because Donny wiggled his finger inside and it stroked against something that I’d kind of known was there. I’ve tried using tampons in the past but always gave up because it hurt. I could only get those things about halfway inside before the penetration became excruciating, and the reason reared its ugly head now.
Because my hymen was intact, deep in my vagina canal. Donnie stroked it even as he spoke, even as he said the words.
“A virgin,” he breathed again, a prayer on his lips. “A real-life virgin.”
I couldn’t help it, my thighs snapped shut to prevent him from going away.
“Please don’t stop,” I begged, body so desperate for a man. “Please don’t go, I should have told you but …”
Donny interrupted.
“You should have told me, that’s right,” he ground out. “But it’s too late now, and I’m not going anywhere, baby girl, until this twat is good and fucked.”
And with that, the stroking began again. Oh yeah, he fingered my hymen, strumming against the soft barrier, playing it like a fine instrument. But that was only the beginning. Slowly, he began pushing another digit into my snatch, spreading my pussy, massaging my internal channel. I threw my head back with delight, cunt creaming heavily, riding his hand.
“Oh god!” I moaned just as the music crescendoed. “Oh god!”
And Donny began the finger fucking in earnest then. With one hand niggling my clit, the other began pummeling my vaginal canal, going in and out, in and out, making me feel so good, so deliciously taken. My pussy was on fire, electrical jolts running through my cunt, making even my fingers and toes curl. Every nerve was alive, and the most disgusting squelching noises sounded out as he fucked me, slit leaking like a faucet.
“Oh yeah baby girl,” he growled. “Fuck, this pussy was made to be fucked.”
I squealed again, lost to the heavens. Because the combination of clit work and heavy vaginal drill did it, and I soared off a cliff, plummeting into ecstasy. My pussy clenched and spasmed, almost breaking off the fingers inside before dissolving into a series of tremors, each more violent than the last.
“Unnh!” I cried out. “Unnh, unnh!”
Donny spurted hotly then as well. I hadn’t realized it, but the big alpha had pulled his dick from his pants and the stiff shaft had been vibrating wildly behind me. I’d been so caught up getting my pussy fucked that I hadn’t even realized I was closer to male cock than I’ve ever been in my life.
But now, it was only too obvious. Because as I came, he came too, that huge fuckrod releasing wild drifts of sperm all across my back and butt, the hot white glazing my flesh, running in rivulets down my lower half. And it was so satisfying, so female, to be coated in his cum, to be branded with his personal male essence that my pussy only contracted harder, a hot, swollen vise.
“Unnnh!” I cried out again. “Unnnh!”
Oh god, oh god, I was gonna pass out. I fell forward heavily against the bannister, my internal muscles clenching and clamping, spasming with jolts, the burn in my pussy so wild. No one told me sex would be like this. I thought it would be romance and sweet kisses, maybe some breathy declarations of love. But instead, it was the opposite and made me feel so fucking good. It was having a strange man’s fingers deep inside your pussy while out in public, letting him touch and stroke until I collapsed, releasing juice as my body blasted to the heavens. It was feeling a strange dick spurt all over my back, the hot fuck dribbling down my ass cheeks to coat my lower half thoroughly.
And just as the first song began to die down, I felt his lips on the back of my neck.
“Beautiful,” the deep voice murmured in my ear. “So fucking gorgeous.”
And just like that, Donny was gone. Those clever fingers slid out of my hole, leaving me gaping, and my jeans were yanked back up over my ass so that I was covered, bubble butt shielded. And the big man himself? He was like Batman, here one minute, just a shadow the next.
Flustered and trembling from the aftershocks of orgasm, I turned, trying to see who had been behind me. My eyes scanned the crowd futilely, trying to make out a departing figure, a tall man who smelled of female musk.
But there was no one. Everyone seemed to be watching the band, drinking beers like it was no big deal, partying it up. I searched futilely, craning my neck, boobies still heaving. Where was Donny? What did he look like? He had to be hot, there was no way someone who felt that good could be anything other than the most gorgeous alpha male. The way he took control, the way he demonstrated utter mastery over the situation made me juice again, pussy still pounding from his touch.
But that was it. My mysterious man was gone and who knows if I’d ever see him again? It was crazy, Donny was nothing more than words on a screen until ten minutes ago, strumming my pussy until I collapsed, giving me my one and only man-made orgasm.
But now it was all over, and the only thing I had as a reminder was the swollen, wet state of my pussy, and the steady drip drip of cum down my thighs. Because oh yeah, he’d sprayed me good, and even now, I could feel sticky, hot semen trailing down my ass, flowing into the crack between my ass cheeks and even coating my hole a bit. Holy shit, was it going in? You can get pregnant if even one drop goes in right? I wanted to touch between my thighs, to feel the tackiness on my secret space, to smell the essence of him. But I was in public, at a crowded concert no less, and that would have to wait until home.
So turning back to the band, I took a deep breath. It was unreal, the way the audience seemed so oblivious, the music rising to fill the concert hall, echoing in my brain. Because I’d just let a strange man finger me in public, stroking my virgin flesh … and all I wanted was to do it again.