Brando: Part Two (Brando, #2)

“It might,” she purrs so sincerely I can feel it in my bones.

The music behind us swells into a chorus, and it’s almost like it carries us away with it. We lock lips in a blur of neon lights and grabbing hands. Haley pulls herself onto my lap, her hands lifting my shirt and searching beneath it for my clenching muscles. I grab her ass, long fingers pulling and kneading at the soft flesh. Her hair falls into my face, her tongue fucks my throat, the music carries on hitting the satisfying hook of the chorus, again and again, a million satisfactions all at once. She rubs her * on the bulge of my crotch with the full body ripple of a belly dancer, my hands clutching her closer to the mounting hardness.

I grab her throat and push her away from me. She’s panting like a dog in a fight, and I realize that I’m not the only one who’s been suffering from her decision to keep away from me.

“You sure you wanna do this here?” I say through my own frantic gasps.

“Can you wait?”

“Fuck no,” I say, standing up out of my seat and pushing her against the box railing.

I grab her arm and spin her around, then pull her ass up against me, my hand on her breasts, pinching and pulling. I rip my fly apart so violently I almost break the zipper, and then grasp around in my pockets for a condom while the next song starts. It’s a dirty, sex-fueled song, an urban beat with a thumping bass that reverberates through the walls and floors, setting my muscles on edge. The colored lights flash rapidly, making everything we do look like stop-motion animation. But I don’t need eyes for this, just the sweet feeling of her hard nipples under my hands, and the fire-stoking guidance of her undulating ass against my cock. I pull on the condom and she pulls down her pants, but only to her knees, her legs tight together, her * even tighter.

She twists her head and I bring my mouth to hers, so this time it’s me tongue-fucking her, my fingers under her panties, teasing and pulling her clit, my hand pulling her breasts together, holding her steady as she gets so heady she can’t even hold herself up. When the bass drops and the hook comes in I slide my middle finger inside her, circling it inside the walls, looking for that spot I know she likes.

This time it’s her who pulls away from me.

“Fuck me,” she begs, her eyes pleading. It always gets me, the gratifying sight of a girl’s face when she loses control, the one I’ve put on a lot of girls’ faces, but which has never looked as good as it does on hers.

“I’m gonna fuck you, Haley,” I promise, bending her over the railing and grabbing my cock. “I’ll fuck you real good.”

I slide her panties to the side, and lean over her. She’s got her hands on the railing for support, and I groan as I push myself inside her. With her jeans still bunched around her knees, keeping her thighs close together, her tightness makes both of us feel each other even more intensely.

The drum drops as I put a hand against her waist and curl the other around to cup and pull her breast. Nothing but the bass and the vocals hitting a minimalist groove as I fuck Haley from behind in ever-deepening, ever-quickening thrusts. I press my thumb into the deep arch of her spine, put a hand on her hair and pull it back.

She holds onto the railing with white knuckles, her screams loud and piercing enough to be heard over the crowd. Then the drums come in, thunderous and earth-shattering, and I let them power me as I fuck her hard enough to send ripples across her ass cheeks, her back convulsing. She throws her head down, then back again, involuntarily, the volatile heat of the drums and my cock stimulating her from without and within.

Pushing herself against the railing, she backs up onto me, in no mood to extend the agonizing sweetness, desperate for a release. I lean over and press my fingers against her clit as I thrust into her, grabbing the railing with my other hand. The song ends with one last boom of the bass drum, and we both erupt along with the crowd, the same way we began, hard and fast, greedy and selfish. Her whole body seems to inflate and deflate quickly, and she leans her head against the railing. I move over her, carefully tugging her jeans back up, and then softly kiss the back of her neck. She rolls her head to the side, and I see a flash of smile before the lights go dark.



We leave the concert before the last few songs. Partly to avoid the crowds, and partly because we both need a drink and a bite to eat. With the three bodyguards that I arranged, we skip down the empty steps of the stadium and make our way out of the large, open exit. I take Haley’s hand as we walk and squeeze it. The fact that she barely notices, that she treats it like the most natural thing in the world, somehow means more to me than if she had squeezed back. For the first time in what feels like half of my life, I feel like I’ve got everything I want. Everything I need. Everything I don’t deserve, but somehow lucked myself into.

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