Autograph

More recent than my bar story, is the following annecdote, just a few days old.

A show in town was letting out. A throng was gathered, waiting for the stars to come out and give autographs and pose for pictures. I had begun my surveillance of the crowd, looking out for possible tame girls against which to rub my already erect tool. Keep in mind (and most of you should, by now, be familiar with MF's MO)that by now I had already made much contact (either a prolonged session of frotteurism--street performers or vendors and the crowds around them, or the momentary quick attack during which you aim from afar, close in and crash your fuck-rod into her Kamikaze-style: "Ooops! Sorry," you say, as she tries to regain her balance, or as you brush through a narrow aisle in the supermarket check-out area). In any case, the point of this lengthy paremthetical aside is that I was ready. Several hours had passed during which I had played pocket billiards looking at succulent teens out on the town or eyed sophisticated touch-me-not's from my pervert's POV, and my oversensitized stick of spongy flesh was ready to vomit out its white ejaculate and seek out relief by dwindling down to its usual harmless size.

As I said, I was scoping out this throng, knowing that somewhere in here, there was a tender thing for me. Fleshy buttocks that a boyfriend loved to grasp, but that now, for just a few minutes, would belong to me. And then I saw her.

(Violin music...)

She was standing there with her parents. I could tell they were from out of town. She had a camera in her hand and kept standing on her tiptoes trying to get a better view. I managed to squeeze through until I was right behind her. She was wearing tight jeans. Despite the recent weather, she had a short jacket, which allowed full access to her gluteus maximus. I felt her with the back of my hand...no response. The water's not too cold; let's jump in. As I adjusted my too-erect member for maximum contact within my sweat pants, I saw her mother move in and whisper something in her ear. Shit, I'm caught; better move on. But to my delight, this is what I heard: "(Name), Dad and I are getting out and we'll wait for you over there in the corner. This crowd is just too much."

My fellow men of friction, my fellow chikan warriors, can you begin to understand my ecstasy, when what could have been a fruitless, failed, and frustrating attempt at chikan, turned into an opportune little treasure chest?
"OK, Mom, I'll just wait for (name of star) to come out, and I'll be with you guys in a minute." Pronounced with the sweet drawl of a Southern Belle; with the innocent tone of a blonde teen who perhaps never has encountered a pervert, and so her radar, her perception, hasn't developed into that sixth sense that older women from the city wield like a deterrent weapon against us sickos.

My little lamb was blonde, her hair combed back into a pony tail, exposing a fresh nape lined with golden little hairs of delight. She was no more than 18, perhaps as young as 16. Her jacket was thin enough to allow me to feel her back against me. The curvature of her spine, her delicate shoulder blades against my chest. Her parents were gone. I could now eye her well. She was beautiful. I brought my face up to her hair. She would "whip" my face with her pony tail as she turned her head--what a delight. Her aroma, one of freshness and youth, was almost as enticing as her looks.

The crowd now was tight, really tight. My cock was between her buttocks, under them, caressing them one moment; forcefully trying to penetrate them the next. I could feel her body jerk in response to my thrusts, but the waves of movement in the crowd concealed my dog-like pushing, my desperate canine humping. I was all over this little bitch. I brought my face forward to see her profile from the side. Well applied make-up, tastefully done; future model perhaps. Cheekbones high, giving her face, despite her youth, the potential bone structure for sophisticated beauty later on in life. But this was NOW. Where was her boyfriend? Back home in Alabama perhaps. Oblivious to what was being done to his innocent knock-out girlfriend. And how many of her High School friends, dad's friends, uncles, cousins, went to bed at night thinking of her, jerking themselves off thinking of this beauty queen? But this was NOW, and she was mine! (Herein lies the pathos of the Chikan).

But let me not stray. The audience was now restless. People shifted and reshifted, looking for a better vantage point, bumping into my beauty, who in turn transferred the momentum to my cock and pelvis. We were sandwiched hard. I was now in paradise. I kissed her hair. I licked her silky golden hair, moving my head back to see her well-brushed locks glistenting with my saliva. She looked incredibly hot with the light revealing to me, only to me, what I had done to mark her. I licked her more, saliva dripping down her hair, dangerously falling close to her neck onto her blouse. I kept humping her like a rag doll while performing these oral maneuvers. I was desperate. I almost wanted to cry. I was sweaty. I was shaking. I could feel the incredible warm
moistness in my thin sweats. I had generated an awful lot of precum. I would have loved to take out my tool to slap her but with naked man-meat, but I was too close, and didn't want to cum on her. Saliva on her hair would suffice.

And...and... here he is.... the star... Mr_____ in the flesh. The crowd goes wild. Now my little dove is happy as can be, tiptoeing again. She raises her camera, arms up in the air, like newspaper photographers in a tumultous crowd, guessing at their camera's aim, as they lift it way above the throng's heads. Well this little motion on her part almost made me scream. As she lifted her arms, her jacket and blouse were raised, exposing the most tender female mid-section of the Bible Belt. Before her arms came down, I took advantage of the moment, and held her from her flanks, feeling her warm skin and her hipbones through the tight and muscular flesh. Her arms came down, her jacket and blouse also, but my arms were now around her, underneath her layers of clothing. She was much too preoccupied with Mr. Celebrity to notice. I pulled her toward me with all my strength, and felt the gentle pain in my dicks head when I push it to its limit. All around us deafening screams. My little queen was very excited to see her star. I could give two flying fucks about him. i was here for one think and one thing only.

I brought my face toward her again and kissed her neck, her ear, and cheek very lightly--a more oblivious girl I could not have asked for. Finally, finally, after grinding her pelvis to a dust, after having had my way with her she looked down, realizing someone had his arms around her, and was apparently humping her brains out. She looked down, confused, her attention still mostly on the star, who was siging autographs and was coming our way. She turned around to look at me, with a slight questioning frown. My heart wanted to jump out of my chest when we made eye contact. I was not letting go; no way, baby. "I am sorry, they're pushing me really hard from behind. Don't worry though, I've got you. If you lose your balance, you'll be alright." I said this with the widest smile possible. "Thanks, I appreciate it!" she responded!!! How's that for taking away any suspicion she might have had?

She was now in my arms, my hands all over her belly. I slowed down. My thrusts became very slow, but extremely, extremely intense, with all the power I could generate. This was intense, brothers; I must have been red as a tomato, sweating like a pig.

I moved my mouth to her ear, making contact with my lips, my body trembling with the nervous twitching of pre-orgasmic delight. I whispered, "Can you see all right? You want me to lift you a bit?" She responded, "Oh would you?"
"Sure."

I tried to lift her, letting my arms (quite innocently "slide" up her sides, so that one of them ended right underneath her breasts, propping them up slightly. She wouldn't notice this, because I was trying to "lift" her, which I wasn't. My struggles were forward and up, and only with my pelvis. "Oh god, I smiled, my voice shaking, you keep slipping." I tried this a few more times, feigning failure. "I can't quite get you up, it's so hard..." I said this into her ear, my warm breath flowing out to her. "Oh God...Oh god..." I whispered and she smiled thinking that I was saying this because I was struggling. She smiled and looked at me and said "Thanks for your effort, anyway." I was still holding on to her belly, as I felt jet after jet after jet of hot jism shoot out toward my blonde kitten. My eyes and hers met again, and she must have seen my face of delight or noticed my spasmodic penis shooting like a cannon, because her smile turned into a questioning frown again. She said, "I am OK, you can let go of me, now." Which I did, inching my way away from her as her stupid star now closer to her and she stretched her hand out to touch him, and I went my merry, cum-soaked, way.

This is definetely one of my top stories.

MF

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