Aftermath

She lay there, in the aftermath. She was on her belly, cum dribbling out of her and pooling around her thighs. It showed no sign of ceasing, and perhaps she'd cover the whole stage with cum if she lay here long enough. One lone young woman was carrying sound equipment away. She could hear the departing murmur of voices, men and women humming small things to each other as they made their slow ways home.

She lay there, boneless, still breathing hard from the past four hours, sweat still sticky and hot against the cold stage, and cum still liquid dripping from her hair. Her legs were still spread, left that way by the last man who had dipped inside her. She hadn't looked back at him, she hadn't known he would be the last. She was still open a little, the retreating cocks made her feel empty. The retreating people had her feeling abandoned - just a little. She didn't have anyone to go home with. She hadn't come with anyone.

That's part of what had gotten her here. She'd followed a flier to the concert. Half the crowd was dancing so she had too, swaying to the music. She'd worn a long skirt - long enough she hadn't worn panties. She supposed now that might have been taken as an invitation.

She had been grooving, eyes closed, when he had come up and begun dancing with her. The attention had felt good and he had kind eyes. She had focussed on him, dancing - maybe a little seductively. She was feeling mischievous, holding her skirt above her knees, glancing at him through her hair. He had gradually come closer. Body gyrating to the beat of drums, pelvis thrusting a little in a question she hadn't known he was answering with the sway of her hips and eyes.

He had put a hand on her waistline. Maybe he had noticed she wasn't wearing anything underneath, maybe not, but he had begun to move against her and it had felt good. She could feel the rising in his pants, and felt the blood rising in her cheeks. She felt attractive. He asked if he could kiss her and she had nodded, and he had, and that had felt good too.

The music swelled and he had hoisted her up so that she wrapped her legs around him. It felt natural. Then his hand was there holding her butt and that had felt good too. He'd slipped it under the hiding skirt, and then fingers had been brushing her vulva and she rocked against him whimpering as the whole world narrowed down to him.

Gradually his fingers had slipped inside her. She felt like she should have said no at some point along the process, but she had missed her cue somehow and she became shy of their surroundings, but a few glances showed that no one else noticed. She felt her hips thrust against his fingers. Perhaps he readjusted for a bit, but it came as a surprise when he stuck something else in her. She accepted it for a moment until she felt both hands on her butt, holding her up. Looking down she saw the angle and knew it was his cock.

She had wrapped her arms around his neck and hung on, hips moving against him. The music had come back to her at this point, and she had begun dancing, hips writhing the way they had before. She hadn't really caught the exchange, eyes closed, mouth open, man inside her, but another man had said something, and the one inside her had said "Go for it," and before she was conscious of much else, she felt her skirt being pulled up from behind. Another man was there, and in a moment another cock, that pressed against her pussy trying to slip in beside the first.

She should have stopped things then, but she hadn't, unsure of what to say "Just one man inside me on the public dance floor please"... and the pleasure was building. When the second man slipped parallel to the first, she felt full, sated in a way that she had never felt before. She felt held between the two men, like there was no danger of her slipping off or down. She stayed quiet, hoping no one else noticed.

The man she had originally been dancing with spasmed, groaned, and she felt him cum inside her. She should have said something, but she hadn't really been planning for him to be inside of her, and so she hadn't said anything about a condom. She wasn't on birth control, but it was too late for that admonition now. The first man pulled out and she heard words again but didn't process them. The original man said "Sure."

A third man stepped in, positioned, and slipped inside her. This was getting ridiculous, and she resolved to stop this as soon as all the men had reached a stopping point -- and she had finished her fast approaching orgasm. The music was still swelling, the heat was still rising. The double penetration was fantastic but the rhythm was off and these two kept slipping out. She whimpered every time they stopped to readjust, wanting them back inside her. When the one in front came inside her - and the one in back pushed her over the side of the stage, beginning to fuck her with long full strokes she was glad of it. When he came and pulled out and she still hadn't orgasmed she felt desperate - so that when she heard the "sure" - she just pushed up her hips and spread her legs, pulling her skirt further out of the way for the next man who pushed into her.

She orgasmed with that man, and when he finished she looked back to see ten or so men around and behind her, many with their cocks out. There was a woman there too. Short cocktail dress and perfect hair. She was urging her husband "Fuck her, Fuck her next." The large man had positioned himself behind her, and his wife had guided his cock.

The orgasms came more often now, catching motes of pleasure like spider webs collecting dust. She wasn't thinking about the people anymore. She wasn't thinking about how ridiculous the situation was. She wasn't wondering if she wanted this, or what had come over her or these people. She was just feeling the cocks inside her. They seemed to be forever changing, small, large, thin, thick, They seemed to keep cumming, pausing her rhythm, waiting for the next.

She noticed when the music stopped. One of the band members went down to a knee in front of her, cupped her mouth, and pushed his cock into it. When the man behind her finished, she was pulled onto the stage and the band member had taken her from behind. Her skirt and top had come off somewhere in there, and the audience whooped and catcalled as he pulled out and came in her hair.

Then there were others. Someone else was inside her, lots of men were cuming on her. She felt like she was a horse in a solid powerful gallop, as if she could do this forever. Her body felt strong. Her vagina was invincible. She smiled.

She didn't know he was going to be the last one until he was gone, and no one else came to take his place. Her sweaty, well fucked body lay on the floor as her mind slowly came back to her. With a groan she rolled over onto her back, causing yet more cum to dribble out.

"Excuse me," she said to the young woman. "Have you seen my clothes?" The woman hadn't but got her an old hoodie from the lost and found that covered her to her upper thighs. With a groan she made her way outside and began her barefoot walk home.

She wouldn't have chosen what happened tonight. She wouldn't have possibly known how to initiate it, but she thought, as she wandered home she would choose it again. Maybe if she went back there people would recognize her and it would happen again.

A group of men stood at a street corner as she passed. One whistled. Another approached.

"I like your skirt," he said, sliding his hands up her thighs to pull up the hoodie and reveal her cum soaked pussy. He spun her around and pushed her against a light post. She spread her legs and arched her back. She was ready.

He pushed into her. The other men circled around.