Sex & Drugs & Rock 'n Roll

Author's Note: Previously I've chosen song titles from Little Feat, Traffic, Van Morrison and Fleetwood Mac for the titles of my stories. In keeping with that trend, this one draws inspiration from a song by Ian Dury & the Blockheads. Once again, my thanks to Eclecticwoman818 for her assistance with proofreading and editing. Please be sure to vote. I write for enjoyment but the feedback from your votes inspires me and also tells me if I need to change my style or topics. Comments, be they critical or praise, are also always welcome.

*****

"Good evening, tickets, please" I said as the crowd began filing in to see the show by a group I had vaguely heard of.

I had started volunteering at the local concert venue about six months before, a couple of months after my late wife had succumbed to cancer. My life was basically pretty boring, and I decided that I needed to find something to do in the evenings to keep myself from going completely nuts. Daytime was easy to find something to do, laundry, yard work, cleaning or any of a million other tasks that I now had to do all by myself, but nighttime had a tendency to be lonely and allowed too much time to wallow in self-pity. Some of the shows were really good and some were mediocre at best.

"Hello again," said a woman as she handed me her ticket.

I scanned the ticket and looked up to see a short, slim woman with grey hair and glasses. It was her.

The previous Friday's show had been an excellent jam band from San Francisco who played quite a few original tunes, but obviously didn't forget their roots in the music of the Grateful Dead, the Allmans, et al. During their set break, I had gone outside to have a cigarette and since it was raining, sought shelter under an awning. The short woman standing next to me was friendly and told me that this was the second night in a row she had seen the band, having traveled thirty miles in one direction last night and thirty miles in another to get here tonight.

While we were chatting, a group of people near us lit a joint and started passing it around. Being an old, what people would refer to as a hippy, I remember thinking 'oh, good, at least a contact high.' Seconds later, I noticed that that the woman withdrew a cigarette pack from her purse and watched as she pulled out a joint, lit it, and handed it to me. Never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, I took the joint and sucked in some of the sweet smoke before handing it back. We stood there under the awning and smoked most of the joint before deciding that we both had probably had enough for now.

The awning we were standing under was over one of the building's fire exits. A man walked over and started banging on the door to see if someone would let him in so he wouldn't have to walk the twenty five feet to the other door in what was only what you'd call a light rain. When no one had opened the door after a few minutes of his pounding, I thanked the woman for the buzz and told her I was going around the other way to get back inside. She decided to stay and wait for someone to finally open the door, and that was the last I saw of her.

Once back inside, I looked around for her to see if I could buy her a drink as way of a thank you, but never saw anyone I could be sure was her. The outside area was dimly lit and she had a hood pulled up to keep from getting wet. Because of those factors, I was unable to pick her out definitely. Well, maybe being stoned contributed to that as well. While listening to the second set, I saw what I thought was her, but being a somewhat shy person, the fear of embarrassment if I was wrong trumped the possibility of connecting with someone if I was right.

After listening to most of the second set, I yawned twice and decided it was probably time for me to go. With one last look around, to try and decide if my odds of being right had improved, I decided that they hadn't and turned and left. Luckily the rain had stopped and traffic was light for the short distance I had to drive to get home. When I got home, I berated myself for being so shy and timid and that I'd never find someone to share time with if I wouldn't take the chance to get to know someone new.

All week long, I thought about what might have happened had I gone over and spoken to the woman that I was pretty sure was her.

And now she was here again.

"Hi. I looked for you after I got back inside last week, but didn't see you."

"I thought I saw you once or twice, but never got a chance to get over to where you were standing before you moved again."

"I'll definitely look for you tonight once the crowd is all in and the volunteers get to go and see the show." I told her as I turned to scan the tickets for the next people in line.

"I'll be along the left side." she said as she turned and left.

I've noticed over the months that different seating arrangements attract different crowds. If the show is seated but not reserved seating, the crowd will arrive early and by the time the opening act is set to go, most people have arrived. Shows with reserved seating have crowds that arrive in a steady flow up until showtime, and shows that are general admission, which means less seats and more room for people to stand up, and dance if they want to, have crowds that usually arrive right up until the main act is set to begin, and even into the first set, with a lot of walk-up ticket purchases. I'm not sure if it is poor planning or just them thinking they're being spontaneous. In any event, this crowd was late arriving and it was well into the headliner's first set by the time the last of the stragglers arrived. After turning in my scanner, I went inside, determined to not blow a second chance to get to know this woman. I looked around for a few minutes without seeing her before I thought rationally. If I was short, where would I stand? Armed with that revelation, I worked my way down toward the front and spotted her standing about fifteen feet from the front of the stage.

I moved down front and across until I was beside her. I leaned down and said "How's the band?"

She turned and smiled. "The first band was really good. A couple of original songs that still need work, but the potential is there, and the covers they did were well done with their own spin on them. This band is just okay, nothing to write home about."

"I'm sorry I missed the first band then. So far this band doesn't impress me much either. They seem very uninspired and not very personable. By the way, my name is Tim, but most of my friends just call me T."

"I'm Connie," she replied.

"A pleasure to meet you, officially." I replied. "Can I buy you a beer or a glass of wine to repay your kindness from last week/"

"Sure, but maybe we can slip outside for a smoke first."

We worked our way through the crowd and ducked out the door to the designated smoking area. Since the band was still playing, the area was pretty deserted and she didn't hesitate taking out a joint and lighting it before handing it to me.

I took a hit and held the joint for a moment, checking out the skill with which it was rolled.

"Nice rolling job. I've not met very many women who could roll a joint worth a damn."

Connie laughed "Thank you, but I'm not sure I should put 'Rolls a great joint' on my resumể."

"Probably not," I agreed. "I was very pleasantly surprised to see you here tonight. I looked for you last week to buy you a drink as a way of thanks for the buzz, but I couldn't find anyone I was sure was you."

She smiled "Well, after I got home last week I kept telling myself I should have moved over to you when I saw you. I felt that there might be a connection there, but my head overruled my instincts, or maybe my hormones, and I stayed put."

We smoked about half the joint before we heard the band announce that that they would be taking a break after the next song and decided to hit the bar before the crowds got there.

When we got inside, Connie excused herself to use the ladies room while I got her a glass of red wine and a glass of Yuengling Lager for me. After she returned, I handed her the wine and suggested that we go up to the balcony and find a seat since I had been standing for three and a half hours and my old body needed to sit down before I fell down.

"I thought the balcony seats were only for members of the theater and that the general public had to stay downstairs."

"No worries, volunteers can watch the show from anywhere except the box seats or backstage. Besides, I highly doubt that the balcony is packed, so we won't be taking anyone's seat."

We went upstairs and I was right, hardly anyone else there. We settled into a couple of seats and proceeded to relate our life experiences, a long term marriage for me then widowed, two marriages for her, a divorce after a short while and a second, longer, one which left her as a widow. I had two children, one of each, and she had one, a son who lived two states away. She was a retired school teacher, fifth grade, and I was still employed even though I was past the age a lot of people retire or are forced out by their employer.

"I'd probably rust if I retired. Besides, it allows me to eat pretty well, pay the mortgage and overall provides a comfortable existence."

I teased her about having a cat since I'm a dog person myself. "Cats are too aloof and don't care if you live or die as long as the food bowl is full and the litter box is relatively clean."

"But that what's so good about them. Give them extra food and clean the litter box and you can go away for two or three days with no worries. With a dog, you need a sitter to go away for more than twelve hours."

"That's true, but my dog can be a hundred feet away and when I call her, she comes running. A cat would stand there and look at you like 'Fuck you, I'll come when I'm ready and you better be ready to give me what I want when I get there'."

"Oh, you've met my cat." she laughed.

We chatted about our mutual love of music, reading real books, not e-books on a tablet or phone, and I was surprised to find out we shared a love of hockey. She also surprised me when she told me she loved knitting.

"I know it's a complete stereotype, but I always picture a white haired old lady with a pear shaped body, sitting in a rocking chair with her slippers on when I think about knitting." I noted.

It felt really comfortable talking with her.

"Would you like another drink?" I asked.

"What I really would like is to find something to eat. Another glass of wine on an empty stomach and you'll have to carry me out of here. Unless that's your plan... ply me with drinks until I can't drive and you take me home and have your way with me."

"Damn, you figured it out. I need to come up with a better plan."

I thought for a minute about what was still open at this time of night. The choices seemed to be bar food from one of the bars in the area, diner food or fast food.

"What kind of fast food?" Connie asked.

"The standard national chains, McD's, BK or Wendy's for burgers and such, The Colonel or Popeye's for chicken. And lots of pizza places as well."

"I could really go for a three piece from Popeye's. I haven't eaten there in a long time since there's not one convenient to my apartment."

"In that case, where are you parked?" I asked.

"In the public lot about a block and a half away" she said.

"Okay, let's walk to my car and I'll take you to your car. Popeye's is about a half mile past my house from here. You can park in my driveway and we'll go get some food and eat it at my house."

"Step into my parlor said the spider to the fly." she laughed. "Is that how you lure women back to your house?"

"Well, you're the first one I've tried to lure there, so my technique may need a little work."

We finished our drinks, I said my good nights to the staff, and walked to my car like a couple of old friends, not new acquaintances. Connie followed me to my house, parked in the driveway and hopped into my car for the short trip to Popeye's before we returned to my house to eat out on the deck.

After we finished our meal, I told Connie I should get the dog out for a walk since on nights I volunteered she only got a quick walk before I left. Connie said since it was a full moon and a warm spring evening she'd love to come along. I decided that in that case, we could walk to the park which was less than three blocks away. As we walked, Connie slipped her arm around mine and walked close beside me. I explained that the park used to belong to a religious organization and had a pavilion that they used to rent out for picnics, parties and weddings They eventually decided that in order to build a new facility they would have to sell this one and the township stepped in and bought it since it was an already developed park.

When we got to the park, I looped the retractable leash around one of the poles of the pavilion.

"Will the dog be okay for a little while like that?" Connie asked.

"Yes, the lead extends to twenty feet, and I'm sure there's sufficient smells around to keep her attention for a bit."

"Good," she said as she led me over to the portion of the structure that was the kitchen for catered events there.

She stopped by the wall and turned to face me. She reached up and wrapped her arms around my neck. As she stood up on her tippy toes, I leaned down and we pressed our lips together. What started out as a first kiss quickly escalated to first exploration. Her tongue searched my mouth and my tongue danced with hers. Our hands soon followed. I slipped my hand between us and covered her small breast, which elicited a moan into my mouth. As our kiss continued, she ran her hand down along my ribs, across my hip and started rubbing the front of my jeans. Her massage (along with the little blue pill that I had taken as soon as we got back to my house with the food) soon had my cock erect and straining against the denim.

Connie broke our kiss and immediately stooped in front of me. She started to unbuckle my belt and unfasten the button to my jeans.

"You don't have to do this..." I started to say.

"Yes...I do," she said quietly, "I let you slip through my fingers last week because I didn't listen to my heart, and I told myself while I was driving up here tonight that rational decisions would not be allowed. I want to spend the night with you, but I can't wait."

With that she slid my zipper down and pulled my jeans and boxers down together. She ran the tip of her tongue up the length of my shaft, from the root to my swollen purple head. Her mouth drew me in and she took my entire length to the point it was poking her throat. Like her joint rolling skills, the woman was a master of her craft. She continued sucking my cock, varying between sucking it completely, just teasing the head, and blowing puffs of warm breath along it. While gripping her hair with my hips rocking back and forth, I told her that I was getting close. That proclamation caused her to redouble her efforts. She took me deep into her mouth while massaging my balls. Her tongue running along the underside of my cock did the trick and cum surged through my shaft and erupted onto her tongue and down her throat. She kept sucking even after I stopped spasming, vacuuming the last of my cum from my cock. When she had completely drained me, I lifted her to her feet and kissed her passionately. Kissing her in the moonlight, the taste of my cum coating her tongue, was the sexiest thing I had experienced in a very long time.

"That was the most fabulous experience." I said when we broke the kiss. "There's something else for your resumể, 'gives good head'."

Connie laughed, "You're probably right about that, but I'm glad you enjoyed it. Now let's go home and you can have your way with me."

I untied the dog, who had decided to sleep since we weren't walking, and we walked back with the leash in my one hand and my other arm around her shoulder.

We had gotten about halfway back when Connie said quietly "I hope you don't think I'm some kind of desperate slut, but this whole evening has been even better than the fantasy I concocted while driving up here. When I saw you at the front door, I felt like a teenager again, and that's almost fifty years ago. Then when we talked, it was so easy and natural, not the forced conversation like with most men I've met. Those things convinced me that I had to do anything in my power to make you happy."

"You have made me beyond happy," I replied, "and I'm sure that you're a sexier woman now than you were at twenty-five and I have no doubt that you were drop dead sexy then."

When we got home, I gave the dog food and water and, after another lingering kiss, we headed up to the bedroom. When we got there, I turned on the TV to one of the music channels which played all blues and turned the sound down low. The light from the TV provided just enough light to see. I stepped over to Connie and slowly lifted her top. She raised her arms to help and soon her top was deposited on a chair. I stepped close and brushed my lips lightly along her neck while reaching around to unfasten her bra. As I kissed across her collarbone, she wiggled the bra off and flipped it on top of her blouse.

I've always been partial to smaller breasts. Those 38DD's of a woman's youth attract a lot of attention, but they soon turn into 38 extra longs. Connie's breasts were small, probably 34B's, but they had withstood the ravages of time admirably. I spiraled my tongue around her aerolae, each pass getting closer to her erect nipple. When I finally captured her nipple, she held my head and pulled me against her chest while moaning contentedly. While I sucked her tit and flicked her nipple rapidly with my tongue, my hand squeezed and kneaded her other one. After rolling and pinching her nipple, I released it and ran my fingertips lightly across the soft skin of her torso.

My fingers worked the button of her jeans open as I released her breast from it's oral attention. I stooped in front of her to work her jeans down and pushed them down her legs. She placed a hand on my shoulder to steady herself as she slipped off her shoes and stepped out of her pants. Before standing again, I moved forward and placed a kiss on her pantie covered mound. I helped her lie back on the bed and stopped for another kiss before straightening and stripping off my clothes.

I stopped to admire her body in the dim light. "You're beautiful", I whispered.

I climbed onto the end of my queen sized bed and lifted her left leg. I kissed her ankle and began kissing and licking up her calf. A kiss behind her knee elicited a soft moan. I nipped at her inner thigh and sucked on her warm skin which caused Connie to squirm and moan some more.

"You're killing me with this slow, sweet torture." she rasped.

I gave her thigh one more, slightly harder bite before rising up and smiling at her.

"I want to tease and torment you until you absolutely crave fulfillment."

"So far you're succeeding. If you don't give my pussy some attention soon I may tie you to this bed and have my way with you until you beg me to stop." she replied.

"Ooooh, kinky," I grinned, "I like that in a woman."

After rolling her panties down her legs, I admired the grooming she maintained. She wasn't shaved or sculpted into any of a myriad of shapes; landing strip, triangle or heart shaped. Her bush was silver grey, like the hair on her head, and had it's natural shape. She had shaved along the edges to keep it well defined, and kept her labia smooth as well. A lovely silver beaver.

I eased her legs wider and ran the tip of my tongue along her smooth outer lips. Up one side, across just above her clit, and down the other side. Spreading her petals with my fingers, I teased her opening while inhaling her scent which was perfumed with desire. As I slid my tongue deeper, her sighs and moans took on a renewed urgency.