After the Show

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Concert promoter finds her inner music.
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Her ears were ringing with the sounds from the maxed out amps, as she picked up the last guitar pick from the wooden stage. The concert had been one of the best she had seen thus far on this stage – her stage, as she had come to think of it in the last few months since she had signed her name to the dotted line that made her the full owner of the venue. All her life she had searched for the place where she felt she truly belonged, and this – her own 2000 person capacity showroom, had become the place where she had finally reached her destination. She could have chosen to sit back and watch the band's set-up crew do all the clean up work, but tonight she found herself still itching to be a part of the show, and picking up discarded tools of the rock trade was delaying the inevitable end to the evening. She looked out over the floor where just a few minutes prior a couple thousand fans had screamed the names of that evening's entertainment, smiled at the thought of the mosh pit that had churned with mysterious testosterone-filled pseudo-violence, and walked slowly from the stage.

"That one rocked the house, Syl," her house manager, Casey, said as he handed her a tall cold beer he had grabbed from the bar after closing out and sending the scantily clad bartenders on their way for the night.

"Yes – yes it did, my friend," Sylvia took a long cool draw from the bottle, sitting down beside him. "How's the take?"

A slow smile crept across his bearded face, the house lights glinting off of his shaven head. "Best one yet. We gotta get those dudes back here, and soon."

"And all their friends and fellow musicians," she laughed. "I never get enough of the buzz of the crowd, Casey. We could have just broken even tonight and I would still be flying high!"

"I hear ya, doll." He touched his beer to hers. "Here's to the never ending buzz of rock and roll." He took a drink, cleared his throat, then leaned over closer to her, gazing at her with intense dark eyes. "Did you think anymore about my offer?"

She pulled out a cigarette, searched for her lighter. Just as she found it deep in the pocket of her jeans, he lit her smoke with his own Zippo. "If you are speaking of your ever so kind offer to sleep in my bed tonight – pass."

"Come on, Sylvia," he smiled wryly. "How much longer are you going to deny that we are two of a kind? Just let me come up to your loft and help you wind down off that buzz tonight."

"Even if I thought you were serious, I think that you have someone waiting for me to turn you down, right over there." She nodded towards the bar, where the last 20-something year old blonde bartender had just reappeared, looking anxiously for Casey. Who could blame the kid, Sylvia thought. Casey was all man, in a hard core package, had the tatts and piercings to show for it, and he was damn smart to boot. Not that the blonde appeared to be interested in his brain...her gaze was directed much further south.

He laughed, standing up and moving closer to Sylvia. She could feel his breath in her ear as he leaned into her. "I am serious, doll. I'll tell her to go home, all you have to do is say the word."

She pushed him back, grabbing his shoulders. "I said PASS, dude." She grabbed her beer and her smokes and waved to him. "I'm going upstairs now – it is past my bedtime. Youth awaits, Casey," nodding towards the blonde. "Go grab it."

He sighed and turned away. Sylvia walked to the back of the club and opened the door to the stairs leading up to her loft apartment right above the stage. She turned to remind him to lock up, but he was already across the room with his keys out, walking the bartender out the door. She was laughing at some lame line he was telling her, no doubt, and he was looking quite pleased at the attention. Sylvia watched as he closed the glass doors and locked them. He blew her a sarcastic kiss and mouthed, "good night".

She ascended the stairs to her domain, flipping the dim lights on as she rose. Her plush couch awaited her, and she sank into it as she grabbed the remote for her sound system. She chose the music from that night's headliner, playing it loud, as she didn't want the evening to end. Her body was tingling with the feeling of the music pulsing through her, the thrill of having made the show come together in her own place. Her mind wandered to the evening's event, how she and Casey had worked together like a well-oiled machine to assure that the crowd was happy, the beer was flowing, and the temperamental musicians that were the reason for it all were all good, too. Casey had done a great job – it was why she hired him, and he delivered. She sighed as she thought of his eyes meeting hers across the room, that slow, sly, smile that she couldn't help but return. He had pegged her from the start – yeah, she was attracted to him, but she knew he had a hard on for the young, fake-titted types, so she blew him off every time he jokingly made a pass at her. He was still fine to look at, and she had used him as the object of many a night's imagination candy when she wound down alone in her apartment and gave herself multiple orgasms. She'd have to thank him someday. The thought made her laugh.

She slid her high heeled red pumps off her feet, wriggled out of her jeans and tank top, and grabbed the concert tee that the band's merchandise manager had flung her way as he was packing up. She lay back on the couch again, closed her eyes and went over the night in her head. The thrill of it all had her body humming. She grabbed the lotion off of her coffee table, pumped the cool liquid into the palm of her hand and rubbed it slowly onto her sore calves, applying pressure liberally to her aching feet. Replenishing the lotion, she applied it with pressure to her thighs, staving off the fatigue that was inevitable after being on her feet for hours. Instead of relaxing her further, though, the motions of applying the lotion awakened her. She slowly let her hands wander to her inner thighs, up her stomach, and up to where her skimpy bra was straining to keep her ample tits from spilling out. Unclasping the front hook, she slid it off without even taking off her newly acquired shirt. Her fingers went straight to her nipples, which had remained hard all night with the thrill of the music and the crowd. She pinched them, rolling them slowly between her thumb and forefingers, moaning softly at the immediate wetness she felt in between her thighs. She let her hands wander to feel how wet she was, and she gasped in surprise at how the touch of her fingers sent a shiver throughout her body. She knew she could make herself explode with fairly minimal effort, but she wanted to savor every second. Sitting up, she reached into the drawer of the coffee table and grabbed the end of her favorite toy. She wanted to feel it inside herself, and quickly – she needed the release.

Just then, she heard footsteps on the loft staircase. "What the hell," she thought. Everyone should have been gone before Casey locked up. Figures, he was so engrossed in the blonde, he hadn't even checked to make sure everyone was out before he locked up, and someone needed her to let them out. Cursing, she grabbed a pair of yoga shorts that were sitting on top of her laundry basket and pulled them on as she stomped across the room to find out who the hell was at her door. She looked out the peephole of the heavy wooden door, and gasped when she saw it was Casey standing on the other side.

She flung open the door – "What do you want?" she snapped. She couldn't imagine what had torn him away from what was certain to be a hot one night stand, and he had interrupted her great strides towards release and relaxation, and she was annoyed as hell.

"You know what I want, you've known what the fuck I've wanted for a long ass time. And you want it too. I'm just tired of playing."

He pushed the door open, a fire in his eyes that she hadn't seen before, at least not burning with this level of intensity. He seemed almost angry at her; she backed up against the wall as he slammed the door shut behind him. He grabbed her by the shoulders, looking intensely into her eyes, and hungrily at her mouth. He grabbed her hair and tilted her head back and took her mouth with force. His tongue sought hers and was met with a teasing flicker. His kiss intensified, and he only backed away to taste her lips from a different angle. She pushed him away, her chest rising and falling with each quick breath, her pulse pounding in her ears. "Exactly what the FUCK do you think you are doing?"

"I'm doing exactly what we both need. I left this place with the full intentions of banging the hell outta that bartender. But the more she talked, the more pissed off I got."

Sylvia took a step back. "Pissed off at what?"

"At myself. Because all I could think of was how she wasn't you, dammit!" He ran his hand over his brow. He was beginning to sweat. "All I could see was you, all I could smell was you. I left her at the bar down the street, walked back here, and came right upstairs, hoping to tell you off and get you out of my head. And DAMNED if you don't show up at the door looking even hotter right now than the picture I had in my head tonight."

Something inside her caved. She felt it happen. Maybe it was the time she had spent just moments before getting geared up to take matters into her own hands, or maybe she was relieved knowing for sure now that he had felt the same tension she had all night as they were working the show together. She took two steps towards him, placed her hands on his shoulders, and pulled him against her as she hungrily took his mouth. He grabbed her hair and tilted her head back and looked into her eyes. "Are you sure?" his voice was raspy, he was out of breath.

"Oh yeah, I am sure," she smiled. Her tongue sought his and was met with a teasing flicker. His kiss intensified, and he only backed away to taste her lips from a different angle. She pressed into him, wanting to feel his hard muscles against her own flesh, needing him to touch her with more than just his mouth. He pushed her away, a low almost-growl came from his mouth as he watched her chest rising and falling with each quick breath. Sylvia could feel her pulse pounding in her ears. She took his hands and led him to the couch.

Once he saw what her intent was, he followed her and turned her to face him. His kiss this time was gentler, but just as pleading. His hands explored her every curve. His hands reached up under the concert shirt, lifting it up over her head, exposing her creamy white breasts, and he moved his hands to grab her hard nipples. She gasped as his hands encircled them, as he pinched them hard, and the exquisite pain had her leaning her head back to catch her breath. He took the opportunity to kiss her neck, biting and rubbing his beard against her flesh as he inhaled her scent. She drew back, pulling his shirt over his head, longing to feel the heat of flesh against flesh. She pushed him back onto the bed, digging her nails into his hard muscles, as she moved down his torso, over many hours of ink, and she tore open the top button closure on his jeans. He groaned, already longing to be inside of her.

He pushed her shorts down over her long legs, drawing in a breath as he caught a glimpse of the triangle of black lace that stood between him and his goal. He felt himself strain against the fly of his jeans, and he pushed her hands aside to speed up the removal of any barriers between himself and her skin by ripping open the remaining buttons on his fly. He lowered himself onto her, watching the goose bumps pop up on her breasts, taking each one in his mouth, one at a time, bringing each one to a tingling peak by biting it and flicking his tongue over the swollen ends. She felt his hard cock against her groin, and rotated her hips to caress it. Her hips strained up, causing him to moan her name, a way of begging her to not stop. She reached her hand down in between them, and took his hard cock into her hand, gently at first, and quickening with each stroke. He moved her hand away, as he did not want to cum just yet. He eyed her black lace g-string, placing one finger underneath it to pull it off. The heat was too much for him, and he ripped it away, tossing it aside, ready to explore.

His fingers found her wet center and she gasped. He flicked his finger across her hard center, as she squirmed beneath his hand. She found that her hips were rocking with his caress, and she begged him for more. He teased her endlessly, until she was about to explode right over the edge. He felt her tensing, and growled, "Not yet," and put his wet fingers in her mouth. She sucked greedily, turned on by her own pussy juices, and grabbed at his hard cock again. He pulled her hand away, grabbed both of her small wrists and held them securely over her head. She couldn't move her arms at all. "I said, not yet," he repeated, more intensely this time. Pulling her still trapped wrists down to just above her waist, he took his free hand and slipped a finger back inside her pussy. Just the tip at first, teasing her lips. He added another finger, slowly teasing again. Finally, he had three fingers deep inside her, jamming as far as they could go, and he reached a spot that made her scream out. "Casey, that feels so good!" she yelled, breathless. His fingers still deep inside her, he took her clit into his mouth, sucking on it in the same rhythm as he was finger-fucking her. She felt herself about to cum, and her cries grew louder and more intense. He slid his fingers out so that he could pull back her pussy lips and have full access to her clit. When he did, his tongue pushed her right over the edge and she came at once. She grabbed him, pulling his mouth to hers, tasting herself on his lips and tongue. "I want you inside of me now, Casey," she gasped.

She grabbed his hard dick, shivering as she anticipated what that would feel like inside her already throbbing pussy. She stroked him hard, up and down his long shaft, and pulled him into her. He slid slowly into her until he was surrounded by her hot wetness to the hilt. He held himself there, feeling her throb with the aftershocks of her last orgasm. She moved her hips against him, straining for him to move in and out of her, as every movement was created an intense feeling of needing more, every nerve ending in her body was alive and wanting him to pound into her. He began to move in and out, slowly at first, but then deeper and harder – picking up speed with each stroke. He could feel her pussy tightening up on him again, which made him want to explode in her. He asked, "are you gonna cum again?" She moaned and nodded frantically, unable to speak as she felt herself cumming again. He could feel her release building, and he too was about to come. She felt the energy building in waves within her, closer and closer to release. He again looked into her eyes demanded – "look at me when you come", and she felt her body let loose, wave after wave of intense explosions, making her scream out his name. As he looked into her eyes and watched her explode, he himself came, spilling himself into her. Neither one of them could speak.

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