Steve has always loved two things about going to punk rock shows: watching live music and watching a woman named Lana slam dance. One night, she she exclusively targets him every time she dives off the stage and into the crowd. For Steve, it seems like a silly and violent way for her to get his attention. When he confronts her, he gets far more than what he expected. More
Steve has always loved two things about going to punk rock shows: watching live music and watching a woman named Lana slam dance. One night, she she exclusively targets him every time she dives off the stage and into the crowd. For Steve, it seems like a silly and violent way for her to get his attention. When he confronts her, he gets far more than what he expected.
Warning! This 3000+ word story contains graphic descriptions of explicit and consensual sex between legal adults. This story is intended only for mature and adult readers over the age fo 18.
No matter where I went, it seemed like Lana’s tits were hitting me in the face. I was in a crowded hole-in-the-wall bar with a full slate of punk bands performing. The venue consisted of two rooms: the bar itself, filled with stools, a jukebox, and tables, and the performance space that had a raised stage. Each time a band tuned up and started their set, people rushed from one room to another. Lana was one of those people, and she was the type that passionately felt each note of each song, no matter how loud or how shitty. Once the music started, she set to slam dancing or stage diving. In fact, she was the type of girl that would dance by herself, if only five people showed up to a show on a slow night.
I had often watched her from afar, sometimes impressed by her vitality for life, and other times, just embarrassed for her and some of her more crazy antics. Though, it’s not like she ever regretted any of the wild things she did. Oh, and she was also extremely beautiful in a punk rock way. Normally, when she came out for live music, she wore a white tank top to show off her extensive tattoos. Underneath that, it was usually a black bra. Her pants were usually tight black jeans with several rips.
That evening, though, it’s like I had a bull’s-eye printed on my face. I was standing there, in a crush of people, and Lana climbed onto the stage and did a supergal swan dive, and her breasts got me in the forehead. That first time, I didn’t think much of it. A song later, she used the monitor as a spring board and did a flip into the crowd, and her chest got me right in the eyes. I thought, perhaps she had a proclivity to always leap in the same direction, so I managed to move to the other side of the stage. Even then, she climbed up and did a running corkscrew spin into the crowd. Her breasts mashed against my cheek and ear, that time, before the crowd caught her and tossed her around. There were two other instances where her boobs got me in the face. So, I moved to the direct center, where the pit dancers and moshers were the most violent. That time, the crowd parted, and she landed only on me. It was a direct hit, too. My face ended up right in her cleavage as we both fell on the floor. “Hiya!” She said ...
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