I Like to Watch

I loved watching him.

On the stage, his body glowing under the spotlight, his hips moving to the beat of the heavy drums while his fingers danced over the strings of his guitar. He always played with his knees slightly bent and he never looked into the crowd. He barely opened his eyes, his focus on the music only. I loved his mouth and I would find myself fixated on how his lips curled and puckered as he sang, flushing with excitement when I would catch his tongue peek out every now and then.

I sat at a table, alone and off to the side so that the people on the dance floor didn’t block my view of the stage, my view of him. I was in a trance, mouthing the words of the song along with him, swaying in my chair, imagining that the room was empty and he was singing only to me.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

I looked up to see a handsome hipster sporting a pair of Clark Kent glasses and holding a beer.

Smiling politely I said, “No thank you.”

He shrugged and walked away.

I took the interruption as an opportunity to scan the dance floor. It was a small crowd, most of them women, most of them dressed in as little as possible without being indecent. Most of them also had their eyes on him. As they danced, whether in a group or with a single partner, they stared, probably fantasizing about the handsome guitar player.

I couldn’t blame them. He was beautiful. Dressed all in black, his usual gig uniform, his shirt was just tight enough to see that he was muscular; his jeans just loose enough so they hung from his hips in a way that only certain men can pull off. He had strong defined arms that flexed as he played, and long, slender fingers that you knew by the way he moved them over the guitar that he was talented in other ways. Dark hair, dark eyes, a square jaw and put that together with the fact that he was a musician, it just made the whole bad boy fantasy complete. I could guarantee that every woman in the bar would have loved to take him home for the night.

I turned my attention back to the stage just as the song ended. He ran a hand through his sweaty hair and placed his guitar off to the side before jumping down and heading to grab the beer the bartender already had waiting for him.

He sipped and leaned casually against the bar, searching the crowd until his eyes locked on someone. I followed his gaze across the room. She was cute and petite. A redhead, though not a natural one, and her dyed hair was a little too bright for her pale skin. Still, she had a pretty face and a nice body. He made his way to her.

She wasn’t alone, two other girls sat at the table with her, and they all giggled nervously when he sat down without an invitation and introduced himself. He smiled at all the ladies and then turned his full attention to the redhead.

She was nervous. Her fingers moved to touch her chest and then to tuck a strand of her long hair behind her ear. She kept looking down though the smile never left her face and I could only imagine the things he was saying to her. Soon enough, the other two ladies left the table and they were alone. He moved his chair closer to hers so that he could speak quietly in her ear. At one point she actually blushed the color of her hair and put her fingers to her lips. Whatever he was saying, she was scandalized.

Just a few minutes later he stood and held his hand out to her. Still looking down, still smiling, she also stood and let him lead her away from the table, around the side of the bar, and down the long hallway that led to the restrooms. I took another long sip of my cocktail, waited about thirty seconds and then followed.

The hallway was long and dimly lit where the doors to the bathrooms were, darker in the back. I walked to the end of the hall where the space was used to store extra tables and chairs. That’s where they were.

They were already kissing quite passionately in the corner, his back to me, hers against the wall. His hands rested on her slender hips as they kissed. Their heads moved side to side, and as the kiss intensified, their hands began to roam.

I heard her sharp intake of air as he pressed her harder into the wall and she felt his swelling cock against her belly. I watched his right hand move down the side of her body, over her hip, down her thigh and then back up again under her dress. He kissed down the side of her neck and she rested her chin on his shoulder, her eyes closed as she enjoyed what he was doing.

If anyone else could see them they might assume it was just a couple making out in a dark corner. But I could see by the small crease between her brows that she was struggling to keep quiet as his fingers were sliding through her wet slit. His arm was moving slowly, the muscles flexing as he teased and toyed with her. I felt myself flush and my panties get damp. I squeezed my thighs together and licked my lips. My breathing increased with hers.

I leaned my shoulder against the wall next to me and pulled my skirt up a little higher, moving my hand between my legs to stroke myself over my panties. I watched his arm move a little faster and I touched myself the way he was touching her, firm pressure right on my clit, moving my finger in slow circles.

I heard her moan softly and I moved my panties out of the way to run a finger through my wet cunt, finding my clit and circling it again before sliding it between two of my fingers. My head fell against the wall and my mouth opened as I panted, but I didn’t make a sound.

I could hear him whispering things to her and while I couldn’t make out the words I knew what he was saying.

Your pussy is so wet.

Fuck, my cock is so hard.

I want you to come for me.

I could see her fingers digging into his back and her eyes squeezing shut. She was getting there. So was I.

I moved my fingers faster, my slick little nub now swollen and aching, keeping my eyes half open so that I could still watch them.

She moaned again, this time she wasn’t able to control the volume, and I knew he had slipped two of those long perfect fingers inside of her. I did the same.

Her hips starting moving and mine mimicked hers, she riding his hand, grinding herself against his palm, me against my own. I could hear both of them panting now, and I finally closed my eyes, focusing on the sounds and the feeling that was building, my pussy starting to tighten around my fingers, my toes curling in the anticipation of the release.

I heard her let go with another loud moan and I followed, the both of us coming, our short labored breaths cutting the air in unison. I opened my eyes again to watch her head slam back against the wall, her eyes tight, her mouth open in a perfect “O”. His face was buried in her neck, and I rocked harder against my hand, drawing the orgasm out, making it slowly circuit through me again and again until I was weak.

Before they could go any further, I adjusted my skirt and silently left my hiding spot. I went back to my table, dropped a twenty and headed for the exit.

I wondered if he’d fuck her next. Bend her over one of those unused tables and take her from behind, maybe? Perhaps she’d get on her knees to suck his cock. Or maybe what I witnessed was the extent of their tryst and they’d walk out of that hallway as if nothing happened and he’d get back on stage to finish the second set. Whichever it was, he would tell me later when he came home to me.