It starts with grinding during the show. You’re pushed right about against the front row barrier, a fist in the air, and loving it. The heat of other bodies, the flashing lights, the music pumping through you.
It’s no surprise punk shows get you hot and drippy. It’s like a shot of adrenaline right to the brain.
A hard cock starts pressing into your ass, sandwiched tightly between your cheeks through the tight cut-off jeans you’re wearing. Whoever is behind you, he’s big and he’s stiff as a rock. You glance to your left, your right, but everyone seems to be completely engrossed in moshing or watching the show. You let the stranger rut a couple of times more against you before you decide he wants this, it’s not just an accident, and you push your rear out, practically presenting.
A large hand slides up your hip and rests at the top hem of your shorts, grabbing tight, and pulling you flush to his tall, hot body. You lean all your weight to the barrier, one arm resting on it, while the other snakes down between your legs, and you grind into the flat of your palm.
This continues until the band kicks into their next song. Whoever is behind you wants to take it further and he wants it now. He grabs your wrist and you’re being yanked forcefully through the crowd. This is your first glimpse of him; tall with menacing liberty spikes, a big leather jacket. You can’t see his arms or legs, but there are tattoos climbing his neck.
You’re shoved into a vacant bathroom stall. The restroom is splattered with graffiti; engraved with various logos and names and vulgarities. You get to your knees as soon as you see his hands going to his fly. His cock springs free from his briefs and you get your mouth over his cock, making out with the head of his throbbing dick as it drips translucent threads of precum all over your pouting lips.
“*Fuck*, yes. Make love to this cock,” he groans, his head hanging back.
You spit into your palm and grip him. You jerk his length, getting him wet and slick, and then you’re taking him into your mouth, stuffing as much as you can in before it hits your throat. He curses above you and you glance up through long lashes. His face is burning with lust, eyes smoldering, and his hand falls into your hair, forces you to take more. You gag and your throat contracts around him with a wet, tight sound. Some drool puddles in your mouth as you cup your tongue around the underside of his dick. A bit slips out and your cunt tingles with excitement, knowing how messy you already are.
“God. I *knew* you’d be a whore.” He put both hands to the sides of your face and angles his hips up and starts to piston in and out of your mouth. Getting facefucked, your throat opens and contracts, making loud, slick sounds. You try your best not to gag, but he seems to like when you do because he grunts approvingly each time you splutter.
Your eyes slip shut when he pushes his entire length down your throat, your nose pressed roughly against his belt, and you’re enjoying the full feeling, the glug glug as you choke, but he pulls out. You look up questioningly and understand; his hand is on his cock, pumping away, and you tilt your face towards him expectantly. He grunts and moans, eyes clenching shut, and he shoots rope after rope of hot cum over your face, across the bridge of your nose, down your chin. You lick your lips as he goes, smiling.
One last spurt oozes out and he takes a step back. He tucks himself back into his pants and is sure to whip out his phone and snap a photo before leaving you there in the stall, covered in his nut, used, your throat raw from the fucking.
You really hope you can find him after the show.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/ob2upz/punk_show_special_mf_oral_anon_public
Fucking loved this