The Concert

After three months working in the office, Zoe, our new coworker, succeeded to lead most of our male colleagues (and, as far as we know, at least one female) to despair.

For the first time, a woman managed to fend off the advances of every single fellow worker who tried to seduce her, in an office where we used to make bets on how long would it take to get in a hot newcomer's panties. And the office top score was six days. The fact was that Zoe, single handed, was ruining the eighteen days' average that was so hard to achieve.

As far as I'm concerned, no one believed I could be a fearsome opponent and I was already used to stay out of this kind of competition: it was consensual that I would be the last guy to get lucky with any woman and, specially, a stunning woman like Zoe. However, the bigger the failure, the more stimulating the challenge.

Be disdained by women is something very familiar to me and I'm okay with that. More than that, I was able to turn this particular kind of humiliation in a strong source of sexual gratification. In fact, I learned to take advantage from this personality feature, over time, using it to increase my chances of earning female indulgence, out of pity if I must.

And, although rarely, I've had my wins. The availability to offer what most men weren't willing to do, played in my favor: unconditional submission to the whims of women, no matter how bizarre they may appear.

My chance with Zoe came up, unexpectedly, on the pretext of a spare ticket to a concert that was going to happen in town, the following weekend.

- I heard that you have one extra ticket for Saturday's concert, at the Town Hall Auditorium. Is it true? I so wanted to go, but the tickets are sold out for over a month.

- Yes, I have two tickets. Got them three months ago. The second one was for a friend who had to leave town on business, at the last minute.

- Can you spare me your extra ticket? I just adore the band.

- No. But I can invite you to go... with me.

Surprised by my offer, she insisted, after a brief hesitation:

- Please! Are you sure you can't award me both tickets? I have a friend who would love so much to join me in the concert!

- Sorry, but I wouldn't miss it for the world. The best I can do is invite you to go with me. I know it's not the most appealing scenario for you but, this time, I'd be a fool not to take advantage of holding the tickets.

- Advantage? What do you mean?

- The advantage of getting a date with you and be the envy of our work fellows. Be seen with you in public is going to pay, back in the office.

- Huh? You're also in the competition? You're kidding me, right?

- Why? Don't you think I'm qualified for the challenge? I know that my chances are low but I'm not used to be discouraged by that. On the contrary. As you see, I'm already succeeding.

- Dream on, boy! Going with you to the concert only means that I can't enter the theater otherwise. But if you think that gives you the benefit of getting in my pants, you must be out of your mind. You're little qualified for the competition, that's all. Your chances with me are zero, sweetie. But it's nice of you to try. I feel flattered.

- That's the wrong attitude to rise your chances of attending the concert, you know?

- It's okay, by me! The alternative is you going alone and waste one ticket, as far as I know. You can wank to my absence, when you're back in your sad little bedroom, after the concert. No shortage of guys, out there, eager to be seen in public with me. Queueing and drooling. Get in line!

- Okay, okay! Chill out! I admit it. Want to come or not?

- Hum... yes. But in my own terms, okay? The first rule is that you won't brag about it. I need to keep my options and don't want other guys thinking you got your way with me. Understood? After all, you are known as an infamous loser and be seen with you doesn't actually favor my reputation, right?

Suddenly, there it goes again: I'm the one who gets the tickets and, somehow, that is no longer my advantage?! From then on, she took command, dictating the rules and putting me down, making me feel grateful for not being left alone at the concert. What else is new! I was in no position to bargain and just had to go along, if I didn't want to jeopardize my limited chances. After all, it could be worth it, in the end.

It was a harsh countdown till the concert. My tickets gave access to a small box for two in the middle row, in the left corner of the theatre.

The night before I fantasized about us at the concert. Every alternative of the fantasy put Zoe kneeling before me, giving head while I watched the encore in total bliss. I knew reality would betray me and the only thing yet to see was how things would actually end up, being certain that they surely wouldn't happen as fantasized in my dreams. And the near future would eventually prove that I was absolutely right.

I spent all day of the concert in great excitement, until 8 pm, when we agreed to meet at the Auditorium restaurant. As expected, she kept me waiting for more than half an hour, barely leaving us time for a sandwich and a beer. But it was worth it: she showed up all dressed in black, wearing a tight leather skirt, outlining the smooth curve of her thighs, and a matching short jacket, with a deep neckline blouse underneath, revealing a generous amount of cleavage. She wasn't wearing a bra and yet her natural breasts looked hard and perky beneath the close-fitting sweater. When she sat at my table she was well aware of the strong impression caused by her appearance. I should be in a trance and remember her mocking pose while desperately trying to put some sense in my clumsy words of approval.

When we entered the concert hall, the room was already full of people and the lights started shutting down a few minutes later.

We accommodate in our box for two and waited the concert to start. Zoe sat at my right and remained all the time between me and the sight of the stage, providing an ongoing view of her body moving to the beat of the music. As the band managed to electrify the audience, Zoe left her chair and continued dancing throughout the concert. It was a blissful vision: the coordinated movements of her shapely legs in black lace garter stockings, perfectly tuned with the rest of the body, writhing in sexy movements.

A few minutes after the start of the concert, I was no longer minding the band on stage, completely lost in the promise of endless delights arising from that fabulous body in motion.

Occasionally, she would let me understand her awareness of my ecstasy before her performance, always followed by a smirk of superiority and distance, as if emphasizing her unattainable grade to my unworthy person, in every tempting move she made.

The fascination lasted until the end of the concert. This was followed by a long round of applause that let us guess the encore. By this time, Zoe let me know how badly she needed to pee, waiting for me to find a quick solution to relieve her urge. And it shouldn't be an easy problem to crack, considering the huge crowd that stood between us and the nearest restroom.

Before my helpless attitude, she challenged me to find a solution, as if it my duty to resolve the matter were obvious. And I needed to do it fast, as she claimed being about to burst.

I was quite distressed, unable to picture the way out of that tribulation. Before my disability to work things out, she went straight to the solution: she must pee in my mouth since doing it in the box floor was absolutely out of the question.

I was appalled... but, shortly thereafter, aroused by the idea. The prospect of having my mouth glued to her cunt was a fantasy come true, beyond my boldest dare. Even as her private toilet. I was ready to go for it and the idea seemed increasingly attractive. And she realized it in my eager eyes.

Immediately, she ordered me to kneel before her -- which I did, supporting my back against the inner side of the balcony that faces the audience -- while she raised her skirt, pulling down the panties and making them slide down her legs.

I pressed my mouth to her cunt and got ready to receive the gush, daring to caress the inside of her labia with my tongue before her pee started do leak. I feared that she kept me from tasting that delicacy, punishing me for the abuse. But she just cringed a bit and permitted me to continue licking the inside of her pussy, for a while, before starting to release her juice.

- You're allowed to masturbate while drinking, if you wish. We know how desperately you yearn for both... wanker boy.

Then, after a brief shudder, she emptied her bladder in a single stream and I swallowed all the precious nectar, hungrily, without wasting a single drop. In doing so, as I'd been commanded, I opened the zipper of my jeans, took my dick out and masturbated until ejaculation. It took me just a few strokes to reach orgasm.

While this was happening down there, Zoe watched the entire encore, standing, her elbows propped on the padding rail of the balcony and, for sure, a look of relief on her face.

What I fantasized finally happened, with a slight difference of the reversed roles: Zoe was standing up and I was the one who kneeled.

But I'm okay with that.