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A stir of arousal strikes me like a bolt of lightning in the groin. It urges me onward with trepidation and anticipation. I know I have to ascend the stairs and find the foundation of these sumptuous reverberations. I reach the door at the summit of the flight of steps. Again I try to assess, through the closed door who could be creating these extraordinary outcries, but to no avail. Reaching with a shaking hand I unlatch the hasp and slide the pocket door slowly into its cavity in the wall. The aroma of a woman’s sexual excitement inundates my nostrils, not the usual sent of sawdust. The presence of a naked goddess fills my eyes, sitting atop my workbench, head thrown back, eyes closed and her mouth agape. She leans back on one arm, her palm resting on the bench top, the other arm reaching between her thighs. Her legs drape over the edge, slightly spread, allowing me just a glimpse of her bare swollen and glistening womanhood, as her fingers tips stroke and caress her clitoris. Her. It responded to her touch, and got a little firmer, and she stroked it a few times. She shimmied her hips, and pulled my hands onto her naked thighs. They were thick and soft, and chunky. “He likes to stroke my thighs just the way you do, and it makes me wet just like when you do it.” She cooed into his ear, and continued to stroke my raging hard cock. “Time to get back on stage Jeff announced after he reached under the table, slid her panties out of the way, and slid his middle finger into her wet pussy. Thalia bit her bottom lip, and squeezed my cock so hard, I swore it was going to pop right off. We went back on stage and played a tearing set, charged with the sexual energy from the kittle episode at the table. From time to time I would glance over at the booth and Thalia would hike her skirt up and let me see her bush, while her husband was on stage with me, less than 5 feet away. After the last chord, I came off stage a hot sweaty mess. Instead of going to the bar to mingle, I.
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