The Music Festival Ch. 01

One of the biggest music festivals in Australia had, for years, been conducted within a reasonably short distance from the beachside town in which I live.

It seemed like everyone my age went to it, year after year. Except me. Why, when there been a degree of peer group pressure to go, hadn't I'd gone? I like music; that wasn't the issue. But I wasn't really one to sit on the ground for two days, high on some substance and just nodding my head to the ear burstingly loud music beat. To me music was something that made you get up and dance; preferably with a partner, or was just a nice, not too loud background to a pleasant conversation.

Without really checking on what my friends were doing, I thought I should unshackle myself from my inhibitions and give it a go; only after paying the exorbitant price, discovering that, after the complete washout out the previous two years, they we giving it a miss. Oh, well. I was by nature a bit of a loner. I could deal with that.

With my camper van, I got there early enough to get a decent spot; conveniently close to the food and entertainment; as long as you're willing to put up with the music well into the night.

Clothing wise, I'd decided to go a bit hippy; making good use of a couple of pairs of very fine white linen/cotton pants. I'd actually bought them - at a local hippy shop - to act as cool sun protectors while mowing my acreage on my ride on mower after finding my balls were getting cooked if I did it in jeans; but the issue for the festival was the same one. It was forecast to be hot and very sunny.

That was matched with a pair of something between a long sleeve shirt and a vest, made of the same ultra-fine material, tie dyed in some interesting but very faded colours. It was shirt like in that it had long sleeves; vest like in that it had no collar and had a plunging V line at the front with just a couple of buttons offering the option of closing it.

I just figured, if you're going to go to something like this, you might as well play the role; it's not that I expected everyone else to be dressed the same. Indeed with all the people likely to be coming up from Sydney, I knew I'd probably stand out like a sore toe. But what the heck! It would provide cover for my intention to actually dance to the music; even if I did have to act like some stoned out hippy.

I wasn't really all that knowledgeable about the bands that were playing. I simply let myself be drawn towards a stage where the band seemed to be playing music with the sort of rhythm I preferred; a nice beat and not too loud.

Sussing out the crowd, I positioned myself on the edge of a group of -- mainly women -- who were on their feet, some just swaying, some actually dancing, and with everything in between, to the music. I figured I should get the vibe of the group before I got up and made a fool of myself. Oh, I was going to make a fool of myself anyway. I was not going to be a sitting head nodder. It was just a matter of doing it in a way that minimised the differences.

It was an interesting group. To a certain extent, you could pick the locals; or some of them anyway. The city chicks were fairly distinguishable by their rather boring clothing; denim shorts and t shirts, or something similar for the most part, and not very flattering at that. Tight, ripped jeans were about as sexy as they went.

Some of the ones I judged to be locals were dressed more consistently with the local vibe; lace or crochet dresses or skirts or fine cotton or linen clothing that moved rather delightfully, and sometimes, teasingly, with their dancing. Or maybe I was just being prejudicial and dividing them unreasonably.

There was one girl who caught my eye. With long blonde, sun bleached locks and dressed in a white linen skirt and a loose flowing crop top of equally fine material, she had a delightfully seductive way of dancing, not unlike my own preferred style and included a few spins that lifted her skirt teasingly up. Plus unlike most of the others, she didn't seem to be part of a group who kept looking at each other for reinforcement. The fact she was tall and slender with a pretty face only added to my pleasure in watching her.

But that was all very well. I was well aware that if I simply tried joining the group acting like some alpha male expecting them all to bow down to my presence, I wouldn't be doing myself any favours. I stood up and joined them, positioning myself a little behind the girl in linen, but not in a way that imposed upon her. I decided my best approach was simply to let myself go, enjoy the dancing as I wanted to do it and, if someone wanted to dance with me, so much the better.

Ignoring the possibility of any interaction, I zoned out to the music; enjoying the visual sight of the women around me but completely suppressing any expectation of interaction with others.

I appreciated it when some of the women exchanged smiles with me. That was better than being completely ignored; even if the smile might have been more one of amusement at the daggy male. I appreciated it even more when, in the process of a spin, the girl in linen flashed a gorgeous smile at me.

I noticed that her spins became a little more frequent and the smiles; bigger and more prolonged. That was nice. Indeed, I started to get the impression she was flirting with me. When facing the stage, so away from me, her dancing started to show a pronounced sway of her rather cute bottom in a way that wasn't there before. And periodically she would turn towards me and match my dancing as if we were partnering at a distance; while her face lit up with the most entrancing smile.

I suppose I should have responded more positively and taken a lead in the next move. But I decided to let her set the agenda, least I was misreading the situation.

Then, on a spin, she extended a hand to me. I accepted it and gently -- because I wasn't sure she'd recognise the signal - led her into a turn. She spun around my hand like an expert and as she came back, brought her body against mine, placed an arm around my waist and looked up at me...

"That's a rare treat. A man who can dance."

"Thank you. But you're a very good dancer yourself."

"Where did you learn?"

"At a local dance school, so I could go to the rock and roll night at a local RSL club."

As we danced, if not completely arm in arm, at least hand to hips, using our all too familiar rock and roll dance steps, I discovered she too was a local and had gone to the same dance school -- at a different time -- but, not being aware of the dance opportunities at the RSL had found it rather frustrating to find dancing venues.

When the music became a slower beat, she relaxed her body against me; partly swaying, partly stepping to the music. It was a delightful moment. I could feel her left breast pushed against my chest, a wonderful womanly aroma wafting through my senses. As I looked down at her head as she rested it against me, the low neckline of her loose fitting crop top gave me a down blouse view of the whole of her right breast; a beautiful, perky cone of a breast, much larger than I had guessed they might be and with the most erotic nipple hardened and extended from its tip. It certainly occurred to me her nipple's reaction, in the heat of the day, may well indicate I was having some effect on her.

It also made me aware that maybe going commando, in the interest of comfort, under the loose lightweight pants I was wearing might not have been a good idea. There was nothing to constrain the partial erection her contact with me had generated. A half mongrel, it pointed nearly straight out, only a slight angling of my hips stopping it from pushing into her lower stomach. But that meant an observant person near us could hardly fail to notice it.

As the morning went on, our confidence in dancing with each other grew. Any inhibitions about making fools of ourselves by putting on a display of uninhibited proper dancing to the music dissolved as if there was no-one else there. When the music was fast, I threw her out into spins and turns before bringing her back against me for some more controlled steps; the sheer energy of it all giving my erection time to recede.

But the next time the music slowed, she brought herself more firmly against me, intimately entwined against my body, her leg between mine and my crotch unavoidably pushed against her; occasionally rubbing on her upper thigh, and with her breasts brushing across my chest, as we stepped to the music.

This was not a novel position to me. Much of my dancing at the RSL had seen me just as intimately close to any number of female partners; girlfriends, just friends or complete strangers picked up on the dance floor. Except for when I was dancing with a girlfriend I was very likely to be screwing that night and who was very likely teasing me up, I couldn't really remember a time I'd had trouble with an erection caused by it.

Why was she different? It was hard to say -- but it was certainly hard. She had the most beautiful, seductive face and, as I mentioned, a lovely slim figure. But there was just something soft and feminine about her -- physically and in her manner - in the most alluring way; all topped off by that wonderful waft of whatever perfume she was wearing.

As she reactivated the partial erection again, I tried to pull my hip back so she couldn't feel it. But the hand she had around the small of my back soon pulled me back against her. As the tip of my firm half mongrel pushed deeply into her lower stomach, she looked up at me cheekily, with a big, reassuring grin...

"You seem to be pleased to be dancing with me."

"I'm sorry. You're a very beautiful woman and as much as I'd like to control it, I can't. I was trying not to have it contact you, but you sort of pulled me into you."

"You don't have to pull back. It's nice I'm having that effect on you. I'm flattered. Don't worry about it and let's just enjoy the dancing."

She hesitated for a moment, before adding with an even bigger grin...

"Anyway, you should feel what my nipples are like."

Well, that did it. The partial erection became a full one faster than a bullet out of a gun. At least it meant it was no longer projecting sharply into her stomach and it was instead a thick hard rod around which I could feel the flesh of her stomach curve.

But the truth was I could feel her nipples. From the outset, I hadn't buttoned up the front of my shirt vest; not to show off my chest, although it was nothing to be shy about, but rather to keep cooler while I danced in the sun. As her nipples moved across my chest, covered by the flimsiest of materials, the hard buttons had made their presence well known. But having her acknowledge it made all the difference.

We danced for a while before she suggested we get some refreshments. She slid her hand into mine as we walked towards the food tents, leaving me walking along with a very obvious projection in my pants as my arousal went up and down the scale; made much worse when gusts of wind came through the site, blowing the linen firmly against my front. The trouble was, even just the simple fact of having her seeking to hold my hand as we walked left me in an almost school boyish thrall of her.

I happily offered to pay for both our food and she demurely accepted.

Sitting ourselves opposite each other at a bench seat table, we sat and chatted for well over an hour without even noticing how much time had passed.

It was early afternoon before we decided we should find an appropriate band and go and do more dancing. Their beat was, for the most part, much faster than the earlier one, and the dancing was high energy and intense; but more fun than I'd had in a long time. We had to stop to catch our breath occasionally; a break usually suggested by her -- although I needed it too -- which resulted in her cuddling up against me as we simply swayed with the music and my erection grew against her body again.

When the band changed as the beat was a bit slower with interludes of even slower music, she danced cheekily firmly pressed against me during the slowest ones; there being no doubt her nipples were intentionally brushed across my chest while my erection was moved and ground against her stomach.

Clouds had been moving in from the South East, but with the sun now well to the west, it was still hot and sunny when the rain started falling; lightly at first and then more heavily. The band continued to play and we continued to dance even as the crowds somewhat thinned.

Even when the deluge opened and water cascaded from the skies like over a water fall, we were too entranced in our enjoyment of each other to stop. But it was here that the limits of our light linen and cotton clothing showed through; in the most literal way. Her clothing clung to her skin and went completely transparent, fully revealing her body to me and especially a pair of the most beautiful breasts I'd ever seen; the nipples fully extended on high beam. Equally visible now was a gorgeous, shapely bottom as she spun through turns, clearly putting on a display for me.

At first I thought she was commando under her skirt too; something I felt sorry I missed as it rose with her spins; but then I noticed there was a small, very narrow pair of white panties barely covering her mons.

Of course, I was no less revealed, not least I the form of an erection closely draped in transparent linen and standing proud from my body. But I'd simply ceased to care. If she didn't care about the display, neither did I and the rest of the world could go jump; at least such as were still around us after the storm really broke. And far from caring about, it struck me she was more interested in seeing it and dancing against it than mortified by its exposure.

When light hail started to fall to, it was clear it was time to seek shelter. My van was way closer than her tent, so she agreed we should retreat to it; she making a game of playfully frolicking through the rain even as we ran towards it.

As we stepped into the sliding side door and I closed it behind us, I handed her my only towel before stripping off my shirt and squeezing the worst of the water out of it over the small sink.

Then I stepped back and watched with some pleasure as Kylie -- as was her name -- stripped off both her top and skirt to do the same over the sink before drying herself, revealing that her panties were nothing more than a rather sexy, narrow strip of about 50 millimetre wide (2 inch) fine silken white material, held up with a narrow, silken elastic.

As much as Kylie had aroused me before that moment, my thoughts hadn't really been about sex. She was fun and sexy to dance with, but in a way, the dancing had been well to the forefront of my minds agenda. What might or might not come later had barely been considered.

But now, as my erection extended to its full length in her all but naked presence in the confines of my van, I was almost overcome by sexual desire.

As she passed me the towel, she asked...

"Why are your pants still on? They're dripping all over the van."

"I don't have any undies on."

With a dismissive and smiling 'fuff', she reached down and pulled at them in the manner of doing a surprise pantsing of somebody, but was only partly successful when the waistband hooked up on my erection. That wasn't going to put her off. She simply lifted my erection out of the entrapment and dropped my pants to the floor; standing back and watching as I dried myself and stepped out of the pants to squeeze them over the sink too.

Tied of being bent half over by the cabin roof, I sat on the edge of the bunk, looking up at Kylie's all but naked body as I asked...

"Do you want a cup of tea?"

As she came and sat across my lap, putting an arm around my neck and shoulders, she replied...

"No, I'm good."

Instinctively, I put one arm around the small of her back and the palm of the other on her mid-thigh. And since she was nearly as tall as me, it left me looking straight at those largish, perky and seductively formed breasts of hers, with their projecting nipples; something that made my erection surge against her hip.

She bent down and kissed me; a prolonged French kiss involving no small amount of tongue wrestling, mainly in my mouth.

I slid my hand slowly up her thigh, giving her plenty of time to call out any objection, but there was none. Nor was there any when I felt out her clit through the fine, silky material of her panties. She moaned into my mouth as I gently rubbed her firm bud.

Emboldened, I pulled my hand back and put it down the front of her panties to get flesh on flesh contact. She responded by lifting her butt momentarily to let herself pull her panties down to her knees, where they were able to drop to the floor. Then spread her legs wide apart.

Her clit was already damp and slippery. While some of the dampness may have been due to the rain, the slipperiness was clearly from her pumping out juices and it meant I could finger her clit without worrying about dryness and in the most delightful way.

As her moans increased, it was like her tongue hung limp in my mouth; her breathing almost heavy enough to have given me CPR had I needed it.

When I slid two fingers down to penetrate her vagina and rake the front wall of it, while still stimulating her clit with my thumb, she threw her head back and moaned even louder. But that freed my head to bend down and suck and play my tongue against her nipple. She responded with a sharp intake of breath and even heavier breathing; indicating it was adding to her pleasure.

I could feel her thighs start to quiver and then her vulva and vagina itself started to shake; encouraging me to put more pressure on the front wall of her vagina as I fingered it while sucking her nipple all the more furiously.

I could readily sense the orgasm building inside her. She had a free hand and could easily have controlled any of my actions with the merest brush of her palm. Instead she brought her palm to the side of my head as if she was hanging on for grim death while a powerful force collected deep in her body.

Her thighs tightened momentarily against my hand and her hips lifted as her moans turned to a cry. She squirmed under my hand without in any way trying to escape it as I continued to stimulate her through her orgasm; it seemingly intensifying.

Suddenly she broke away, pushed me flat on the bunk and mounted me, rapidly, almost desperately, penetrating me into her. I could feel her contractions pummelling my hard shaft as I brought my legs up onto the bunk and pushed myself as hard as I could into her, grinding my pubis against her vulva.

She seemed to be in an oxytocin driven frenzy as she was all over me; kissing, caressing and generally pashing me as she ground herself down onto the base of my cock. Wanting her to get the best out of her orgasm, I held her tightly and responded as best I could to her needs. But I avoided as best as I could too much stimulation of my own manhood.

It might have been excited, but it hadn't been all that stimulated so far, and I didn't want it going off in a half-hearted way. I wanted her to finish her own orgasm and then get my own chance to give myself a good ending.

Even as her orgasm seemed to finish, there was still a lot of residual passion in her. The intensity of her pashing of me might have subdued, but the desire was still there. She continued to nuzzle my neck and brush her cheeks against mine, humming delightedly, as she kept our bodies in a tight wrap and my penetration of her at a pubis grinding depth. Finally she gained enough control to comment...

"Oh wow. That was fantastic. Thank you."

As if she suddenly realised we weren't finished yet, she raised herself on partly outstretched arms, leaving her breasts dangling delightfully in front of my eyes. Then gripping me more tightly, she started riding me in a reverse missionary position, letting me enjoy the privilege of sucking one breast and playing with the other as she did so.