Jane’s fantasy (part I)

‘Sex is violence’

I stand in the crowd and watch you up on the stage. You look so dark and mysterious, so sexy with your moody guitar riffs and occasional vocals. I’m here for the concert, for you, along with a few thousand other fans. There are plenty of other women, but I know you will be mine tonight.

I watch you play, I know some of the songs. I sing along to them with your lead singer, with you, with the rest of the crowd. Other songs are new, some I like more than others, but nonetheless I can feel the electricity in the air as your music drifts around me and through me, surrounding me. I find myself drifting away into fantasy as I watch you up on that stage.

In my fantasy, you are rough. You barely let me speak, but I’m not there for conversation. I don’t care if you even know my name. I am only here to have you, and I want you to take me with all the power and force that you project when you’re up on that stage. You grab me by the hair, kiss me roughly, lift me up onto a counter where you slide your hands up my legs, underneath my skirt, grabbing me hard enough to leave marks, surrounded by half empty liquor bottles, cigarette packets, guitar picks and random pages of text, your songs, your music. The rough and quick tumble with a rock star fantasy.

In reality, you are gentle. You take my hand and lead me away into your private world. It’s surprisingly clean, no half empty bottles or full ashtrays. The lighting is soft and mysterious. You offer me a drink, champagne. We sit down on the sofa and you talk to me, very soft spoken and erudite. You ask about my life, my passions, my dreams. I find myself opening up to you a bit more than I would have expected, expressing my dreams, desires, and frustrations. You listen. Is it the false sense of familiarity, because you’re a rock star I have fantasised about for such a long time? After years and years of listening to your music and feeling that it speaks to me on a deeper level, there you are, actually speaking, and listening. I sense a connection.

We kiss. Your lips touch mine softly, your manicured stubble a gentle caress on my face. My lips part in response and our tongues touch, taste, intertwine around each other as I feel the electricity surge through my body, from our lips all the way down, my nipples harden, I can feel myself getting wet wanting you but you’re in no rush. Your tongue explores my mouth, your hands caress my arms, my back, my legs. Finally, you slide them under my skirt and to the tops of the special sexy stockings I wore for this occasion.

My mind drifts. At my insistent touch you slip your t-shirt over your head and stand up. I feel a surge of heat and a shortness of breath; in person, you’re even more beautiful than in the photos from the album booklets that I used to flip through obsessively, or on that poster I had in my room as a teenager. You stand in front of me, I reach over to your belt but struggle with the fancy rocker buckle; you laugh and help me undo it. I want you in my mouth; I slip off your sexy black jeans and pull you towards me so I can taste you. You’re incredibly well endowed and a very nice shape, which is a very pleasant surprise. Of course I wouldn’t know it from the posters and the album photos.

You look down on me as I slide my lips up and down your cock, which is fully hard now. I look up at you to see if you are enjoying it. You smile, take my head in your hands, and lift me up to you. You kiss me, my lips, then my neck, then work your way down. You remove my top and my bra in one swift motion, and take a step back to look at me. I feel exposed under your gaze, but it’s only a moment before your hands and your mouth are all over me, caressing my torso and licking my nipples, one, then the other, then back again. Your hands reach down and slip off my skirt, it’s only the stockings left. You take a step back to look at me again, taking in my body with your penetrating gaze then look into my eyes, smile again and push me back onto the sofa. You kneel down and spread my legs.

Your magic hands! You spread my labia with one hand and place your tongue on my clit, which sends shivers all through my body. I involuntarily arch my back, pushing myself onto your mouth and throw my head back for only a moment before looking back down again. I need to see you, I need to imprint this image on my mind, my rock star fantasy right there, on your knees between my legs. You use your other hand to slide first one, then two fingers inside me, continuing to circle your tongue over my clit. I’m not sure I can control myself much longer but you insist, your hand inside of me seems to find all the right spots while your amazing tongue is bringing me closer and closer to orgasm. I let myself go, I can feel my mind drift away and it’s only one sensation left, I tense up and then fall into the rhythm of the sweet release of orgasm. You go with it for what seems like an eternity before I come back down to earth and look down again, to see you smiling at me, your fingers still inside of me…