The Bassist at Woodstock

Looking at her, you could tell she had been on her trip for a while. At one point she obviously slipped and fell in the mud, but simply rolled over and got up again, then kept dancing with the other people to the music. Deliciously rounded, you might call her, with wide hips and soft thighs, and a nice ass covered by muddy jeans, soft, pale breasts peeking over the low neckline of a once-burgundy shirt, and long brown hair held back with a beaded headband. Once the acid started wearing off, though, it came to her attention that she was covered in dried mud.

She spent about an hour asking people where she could get clean, and no one really knew where, or could be bothered to show her where a shower was. Eventually, a musician, a bassist from one of the bands, spoke up.

"You can borrow the musician's shower behind the stage. And you can dry off and get dressed in my trailer." He was handsome, with mocha-colored skin and a small afro held back by a scarf. He was holding a beer, but didn't seem drunk at all.

"Thanks, man!" She grabbed her small suitcase from her tent and followed him to the shower. She assumed he left, and stripped down, throwing her clothes onto the wooden crate that formed of the bottom of the shower so they would be rinsed clean of mud while she showered. The Bassist watched her as she stepped into the shower and turned it on, dancing around for a few seconds until she got used to the temperature

She began to rinse out her hair, then moved down to her breasts, her small nipples sticking out from the cold breeze that went through the enclosure.

She failed to notice him watching her, at least until she was done washing most of the mud off of her. She felt a pair of hands reach out and settle on her hips, then pull her backwards into a sizable erection.

"Oh!" she gasped. The bassist began kissing her neck, his hands roaming over her belly and one reaching up to tweak her left nipple. "mmmm...." She leaned her head back onto his shoulder.

"If you wanted to join me you just could have asked." She breathed. His hands cupped both breasts and she curved her back into his chest.

"Well now I'm asking....ready to dry off yet?"

"Yes please."

They grabbed towels and sprinted to the trailer. The bassist nearly shoved her onto his bed, a mess of sheets and pillows. He carefully unwrapped her from the towel that barely covered her large body to begin with, and kissed her stomach. She pulled him up until his head was equal with hers, and they kissed, their tongues mingling, his with the taste of beer on it. He couldn't keep his hands off of her soft skin, running them across her wide belly and down her thighs. She spread her legs and reached down to stroke his erection as they kissed. She eased him into her, Breathing in little gasps as she stretched to accommodate him. He started in a slow rhythm, and she rose her hips to meet him each time. The broke the kiss. He sped up, and she with him, He pulled out and rubbed the head of his dick against her clit, causing her to shudder. She grasped at the sheets, moaning in pleasure. He lay down and pulled her on top of him, and she carefully straddled his waist and rocked back and forth on his dick. His hands flew to her breasts, thumbing the nipples.

"Oh fuck..." she sped up and reached between her legs to rub her clit. "Yes. Yes. YES!" He rolled her nipples between his fingers as she orgasmed, When she was done, she dismounted and began stroking his erection, then licking it slow and soft, pulling back the foreskin to rub her tongue around the bottom of the head. She was at it for a good 3 minutes, working up and down the shaft, stroking it, and sucking on as much as she could handle, before he murmured about cumming, and she let him take over for the home stretch, jacking on his member until a splatter of semen flew out and landed on her stomach.

She kissed him one last time, took her towel, and left the trailer.

"Thanks, bassist. See you around." she said as the door closed.