The Roots Concert (VIP)

Pt 1 The Cock Block

So I’m walking down South St., the funky, artsy section of downtown Philly just trying to recapture a good vibe by girl watching. I was walking off a mild funk. I’d just had a slightly frustrating encounter with an obviously willing target of opportunity in one of the local pizza parlors. The only reason I entered the pizzeria at all was that I was following this willowy long legged vision in a gauzy floral sundress.
I had seen her coming almost a block away as I lounged against the wall of a nearby storefront nonchalantly eyeing the legs of a young miniskirted blond who was seated in the multi level patio of a local restaurant. Let me digress for a moment to offer up my heartfelt thanks to whatever designer it was who came up with the idea for this pleated miniskirt so many of the young lovelies are wearing this summer. Anyway, discernable through the crowd comes this very pretty girl about 19 or early 20’s with a cap of frosted blond ringlets and a pronounced Mediterranean cast to her features. Tall and model slim she reminded me of a young Nastasia Kinski circa her appearance in “Cat People”, with that rare mixture of leanness and lushness, just a tad delectably bottom heavy. This olive skinned cutie glided sinuously through the throngs eliciting appreciative glances, if not outright stares, from most of the men in her wake. As she came abreast of me I barely had time to muse about how great it would be to have some kind of interlude with someone so attractive, when she slowed, cocked her head to the side in speculation and pivoted gracefully through the doorway of the pizzeria. An added bonus was supplied by a fortuitous breeze, which suddenly pressed the sundress’s thin material to her body displaying a distinct visible panty line. I noticed with surprise, as the sheer fabric of the dress molded itself to a pair of buttocks shaped like the 2 halves of a perfectly split cantaloupe, that she was wearing a tiny pair of bikini panties rather than a thong. There was no way that she was not going to be auditioned for membership in my own personal players club. Though I’d had a lot of recent success at concerts, I hadn’t had much successful incidental action lately other than the 4th of July. I was hoping to reverse this trend inside the pizzeria with her. This pizza parlor is a tiny 2-room affair. The front room containing the counter has no tables. It is barely wide enough for 2 people to stand abreast. As the room fills, a line forms in a narrow u shape with the last to enter facing toward the rear till they can turn and move back toward the counter to place their order. The rear section, containing a few standup tables and no chairs is barely used. In my opinion, the key to incidental or opportunistic frotting is to fully gauge a woman’s reaction to your closeness even before you touch her. This provides a usually reliable indication of her possible acceptance of your advances. The next time you are in a line behind a woman advance until you are just short of touching her and watch her reaction. The great majority of the time, on noticing your closeness she will move away. Some will turn to look at you challengingly; the intriguing ones are the ones who, realizing how close you are don’t budge an inch, and then there are the rare few that will take an almost involuntary, imperceptible motion back in your direction. This girl was in the latter category. I had the added benefit of being able to watch her expression in the mirror behind the counter, which let me know that she was acutely aware of my presence. When we took our next shuffling steps toward the back of the parlor I noticed that she was noticeably farther from the guy in front of her than she had been earlier making me wonder whether she wanted to have playtime today. At this point step 2 consists of my making my presence a sort of challenge to her. Making a sound to reinforce for her exactly how close I am, or in this case leaning against the wall so that my hand dangled clearly in her personal space, yet still not touching her, does this. Its a nonverbal way of saying ‘here I am practically touching you and what are you going to do about it.” At this point I glanced in the mirror. We were almost at the point where you turn around to advance to the counter. I could tell by the rapid rise and fall of her chest, sporting pert little b-cups by the way, that she might be anticipating something too. Of course there’s always the possibility that she was simply pissed off that this big brown bastard was crowding her like this. As we made the turn I stepped forward so that my semi erect dick brushed lightly against her firm right cheek. I saw her eyes slide coolly to the mirror and once again take notice of our relative positions. This is the last stage. If she doesn’t feel like playing, even a touch perceived as accidental will prompt her to increase the distance between the two of you, often accompanied by a glare or some other sign of displeasure. “Her Sleekness” didn’t budge an inch away from me. I now felt comfortable raising the stakes by shifting my hips forward to maintain constant contact with her. Because of the excitement caused by the preliminary stages I was now fully erect. She was now standing calmly with the unmistakable weight of my dick pressing into her right cheek. Her cell phone took this moment to ring. Rather than shifting forward to place her bag on the counter to extract her phone she shifted back into me to bring her bag up in front of her, which resulted in her gauze covered ass being jammed into my now throbbing cock. Gentlemen we have a player! After receiving this obvious confirmation of her intentions, I shifted the angle of my hips so that my now rhythmically pulsing dick was wedged into her ass crack. The silky texture of the dress combined with the fact that I had adopted my frotting uniform before coming downtown created an exquisite sensation. I was wearing a 3x shirt over my 2x frame, which, combined with my ever-present camouflage, hid the fact that my erection, still in my boxer briefs, was jutting from my lowered zipper. I was calculating how far I could get in the remaining couple of minutes before she received her order, when I glanced over to note an extremely tall, gangly, jug eared, young guy maybe 6’5 or 6’6 staring down at me. As my camouflage was in place I don’t think that he was able to see exactly what was going on, but the smirk he wore was enough to tell me that he suspected nonetheless. As I knew that he was too young to be law enforcement, I decided, “fuck him!”
I returned my attention to the succulent posterior impaled on Old Twitcher. One of my favorite things to do in this type of situation is to glance down and take a mental snapshot of my dick wedged into my host’s ass. The tight bikini panties had just enough give to enable me to clearly see the separation of her cheeks caused by my dick’s intrusion. I glanced up just in time to see the young buck nudge this homely dumpy dishwater blonde next to him, who promptly aimed a withering glare in my direction. Just as I’m thinking “fuck you too Lumpy” she makes this loud tooth sucking sound of disgust. This attracted the attention of my little friend, who glanced around, immediately sized up the situation, and swiveled away from me so abruptly that it yanked my dick solidly to the left. Ever had your girlfriend, or whoever, playfully bounce your full erection to the side? This caused a uniquely pleasurable sensation, which was going to have to serve as my parting gift because I could tell by the expression on the face of my now standoffish former playmate that party time was over. I glanced up at the doofus whose interference had cut short this exceptionally pleasant diversion to see him wearing a grin from ear to ear. The opportunity was only going to last a couple of minutes more at most and the other line being so close eliminated all but the subtlest of movement. So I knew that as willing as she may have been, I wouldn’t have been able to cum against her. But in that moment in the pizzeria I was pissed, and since I didn’t want any pizza there was no reason to maintain the charade any longer, I left. These opportunistic sessions are by far my favorite type. The reason that I still prefer the rare instances of incidental frotting is that it creates, at least temporarily, a sort of bond with the woman while she cooperates, if only passively sometimes, to give you both pleasure. Because of my mood I didn’t go straight home, as had been my original intention, before the very pleasant diversion occurred. To mellow out I decided to walk the short distance to a nearby theater to see if there was any new concert information. I never made it to the theater because my attention was diverted by a table set up across the street, over which was bent a very nice posterior in a pair of pre faded jeans. I approached to get a better look at the butt. As I got closer I made out the gist of what the crew, manning the table were saying to passersby. As an inducement for registering to vote, the Roots, one of my favorite groups, were giving a free concert in a couple of days, at which the price of admission was only proof of voting registration. I had heard about the autograph signing session at Tower Records to be held earlier the same day by the group, but this concert was brand new information to me, and not listed in the entertainment pages of any of the local papers. I was due to renew my registration anyway, so I took advantage of this opportunity, and walked away with a free ticket to the upcoming show in my pocket. Had I not been taking that walk to recapture my good mood I probably would have missed what turned out to be one of the humping highlights of my summer, so far. Serendipity is a beautiful thing.
(To be continued in Pt 2. The Return of the Cock Block)

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