Sex, Media & Culture  Lesbian 

Sing me to bed

Clementine Lips Jul 04

Sing me to bed

The lights turned on and illuminated the stage. It was of modest size, she wasn’t a superstar (yet). But it was still packed with people excitedly waiting for her to go on stage. I had queued for most of the afternoon, something quite uncommon in my city.

Usually, people were more rational about the whole concert thing and waited at home until 30 minutes before the show started. But this time it was different. She was different. Anyone could tell that she was a star in the making and wanted to listen to her live while she still performed in cosy and cheap venues.

I love concerts in smaller rooms. Everyone can get a close look at the artist without any need for pushing the rest against the bars or elbowing anyone in the ribs while dancing. However, I could feel my hair starting to plaster against my face with the dampness of my own sweat and the general steaminess of closed spaces with a lot of people inside them. I willed her to come on stage, knowing I would forget all the incommodities of attending a concert when she appeared.

And she did. The crowd exploded in cheers and whistles. She turned her head towards us and smiled. It felt like she saw each and every one of us as if we were her friends coming to her first concert in a bar where everyone else was just paying attention to their drink. And we were entranced; this was clear from the hush that dominated the room when she approached the microphone.Credit to Anthony Delanoix via Unsplash

She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. Was she nervous? I found that endearing. It seemed like we were nervous on both sides, then. She opened her lips a tiny fraction and I could feel everyone holding their breaths. The first note came out of her mouth like it was melting caramel.

Soft, smooth, deliciously creamy. It made you feel warm inside. Like soft velvet caressing your ears or a warm jumper on the coldest night. The band started after a bit, and it felt like we were tumbling down a feathery hole, nothing but the music around us. I didn’t know what to do: did I want to close my eyes and just listen to the music, or did I want to watch her sing? It looked as if she absorbed the light that shone on her and radiated it back, but changed, darker with the weight of her voice.

As the concert continued, I felt like in a trance. I didn’t want it to end. I didn’t want to leave the calm that she was providing us. My thoughts started racing. What could I do in order to not let go of this feeling? I felt like I was on drugs. Decisions taken on drugs are often regrettable. I made one such decision. I decided to sneak into her dressing room to meet her. Baffle her with my charms so that she would want to meet me again and talk to me in that voice that lifted the weight off my chest and allowed me to breathe in deeply.

As people started to clap, I left the room by the door at the back. It took me quite a while to push through the mass of people trying to catch a last glimpse of her. Finally, I exited into the chilly autumn night. I put my jacket on and wrapped a scarf around my neck. Instead of heading to the bus station, I turned to the right and walked down the side of the building.

No sign of another door. I turned again and got to the back of the building. There was a wide emergency exit door. I pushed the bar and shoved it open. It made a screeching sound against the door. I was nervous that a guard might have heard it and would come looking so I backed away from the door and stood against the wall as if that would hide me from someone coming to look for me. No one came though so, feeling brave, I tried again and this time I snuck into the building quickly.

My original plan had been to sneak into her dressing room before the concert ended and surprise her waiting for her there. However, now that the effects of her voice had lifted off, I was feeling more and more doubtful that this was a good idea. By the time I reached her door, avoiding the security guards whenever I saw them, I had come to the conclusion that this was a really bad plan, worthy only of the creepiest of stalkers.

I decided it was a better idea to wait for her to come backstage and then knock on the door. A tad more elegant, I guess. The second round of claps announced the end of the very last song. I hid as well as I could and watched the corridor from behind the corner. I saw her coming, and my breath caught in my throat.

I could see the beads of sweat caught in her curly hairline. Her hair was tied up in a high bun, but some wisps had managed to get loose and framed her face perfectly. The bright light of the corridor deepened the colour of her skin and shone off with a golden sheen.

She was smiling slightly, happy with her performance. Her top barely covered her cleavage with a black see-through fabric that became opaque at the level of her breasts, rounded with a dark green velvet corset. It was so tight it seemed like the top was holding her breasts against her; they looked eager to be freed. Her leather trousers were tied at her waist, drawing the eye to her round hips that sashayed from side to side as she walked towards me.

I hid behind the wall again. Was I really sure that I wanted to meet her? They say that famous people always disappoint when you meet them in person. Would she even be her normal self when she opened the door to a strange lady? My mind started racing so I resorted to the question that always answers all the others: what would I regret more, leaving without saying anything or going in there even though things might not go as I would like them to?

I am an adventurous person that really dislikes missing out on things, so I guess the answer was clear from the beginning. I waited a few seconds after I heard the door of her dressing room close and then I approached it. I took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

- It’s open, come in! – I heard her voice through the door. Even without the melody of a song, her voice still sounded like warm marshmallows cooking over a bonfire.

I opened the door a crack and put my head through. I could tell she was trying to place me, but failing at it.Credit to Romina Farias via Unslpash

- Hi... – I stammered nervously – we haven’t met, but I was in the public until just now and I figured I should try to meet you just to say thank you for, well, for your music, I guess – wow, that sounded so cheesy I felt like cringing inwardly. And it wasn’t even true. I definitely had not broken into backstage to thank her for her songs. But I couldn’t go back on what I had just said without looking even creepier.

- Thank you I guess. Hmmm... I don’t mean to be impolite, but how did you get in here?

- The back door was open – I half-lied. Not open, but not locked either.

- You don’t risk going into a banned space just to say thank you. Why are you really here?

She had caught me in my blatant lie, what a surprise.

- Well... Your music entrances me and I got caught up in it and in... you. I have fantasized about being in front of you so many times I’ve lost count already.

Uncomfortable silence. She was staring at me very seriously, but I didn´t know where to look. Was she judging me, assessing if she should chuck me out of the room or did she not care? Why the hell did I make the stupid decision of coming into her dressing room?

And why was I so nervous anyway. I had made a fool of myself already, but I wasn’t going to see her again. Worst case scenario, it’s another funny anecdote to use as an example of how reckless I can be. I would just say goodbye and leave right now.

- I see – she said finally. – Well, since you are here anyway, can you help me get out of this corset?

Oh. Then I knew why I was so nervous. I felt a tingling in my lower regions; that’s why I’d wanted to be in this room with her. I approached her while she turned around. Did she know what was going on in my head? My heart started beating harder as I got closer to her. I could see all the curves of her body under her clothes.

My desire for her was so strong my chest felt tight and my hands were trembling when I tried to untie the lace of the corset. I took a deep breath and pulled on the string to untie the knot.

She wasn’t prepared for the tug and had to step back to keep her balance. Her neck was right in front of me, bare but for a gold necklace that had been hidden at the front under her top. It took all the strength I had to keep from biting it. It took all the concentration I could muster to continue untangling the corset. When it finally fell to the ground I stepped back quickly as if it were on fire.

- Wait a minute, I’m not done with you yet. Help me with this too – she said.

She pushed her hips back. Her top was not a T-shirt, but a bodysuit. I could see the buttons staring at me, but my brain wasn’t processing what I was seeing. Or rather, it was processing it and short-circuiting as a result. I guess a few seconds must have gone by because she turned around to look at me. Contrary to what I had thought (I can be too naïve sometimes), she knew the game we were playing; her smirk cleared that up for me. Fuck me, what was I going to do?

I moved forward again and tried to pull at the buttons just with the tips of my fingers. My discreetness didn’t work. She pushed herself onto my hand. I could feel the damp heat coming off from her lower regions. My mind completely froze for a second. Then it overheated and I moved my fingers inside the body I had just been trying to remove.

No knickers. I hadn’t predicted that (I hadn’t predicted any of this, to be honest), but I ran with it. The strain of my hand inside the bodysuit undid the buttons so that it popped open below. I had been granted full access, but I didn’t really know what to do.

I got really nervous around women and my previous interactions hadn’t really helped me get rid of my awkwardness. I always ended up going too fast or too slow. In the end, I either didn’t get to the other lady’s bed or didn’t get called back. I hadn’t been thinking about this since the awkwardness of the current situation was already enough to block my normal train of thoughts, but now it started to invade my brain and I couldn’t get rid of it. Calm the fuck down.

I took a deep breath and moved the stray hairs on her neck out of the way. I kissed my way down her neck and moved my hand away from her crotch. It was too early for that. I took both her breasts in my hands and caressed them through the fabric, my breath still blowing on her neck.

She pushed me back with her butt so that she could turn around to face me. Her lips touched mine with a gentle and deep kiss. Our tongues intertwined inside my mouth; they wrestled with each other in a friendly fight. I opened my eyes to see her caramel ones staring right back at me. She laughed light-heartedly and continued to kiss me, her eyes closed again. Eyes wide shut came to my mind. Was this as weird and unlikely as that movie? Stop thinking, concentrate!

I pulled the body off her and she did the same with my shirt. No bra; did this lady never wear underwear? The darkness of her skin compelled me; I had never seen any skin so perfect. I guess mine compelled her too because she kept looking at my cleavage, where my black bra made my white skin shine the brightest.

She liberated my breasts from their restraint and sucked on my nipples, slowly circling them with her tongue. At the same time, she undid my trousers and pulled them down, although she couldn’t quite reach the floor. I wanted to run my fingers through her hair, but it was still in a bun. I silently asked and she nodded. I untied her hair and let her curls unfold. They were so soft they felt like velvet.

The whole manoeuvring had become uncomfortable, since we were both standing up, so I gently pushed her onto the table. Kissing her chest I went down to her thighs. I kissed the inner side slowly. I could smell her, pungent after being on stage. I was so caught in the moment I didn’t mind.

I was so nervous my hands were trembling, but I couldn’t stop now. I moved closer to the origin of her fragrance until she pushed towards me. Her legs were wide opened as if in offering of herself. Picture perfect. I immersed myself between her legs and started gently licking her lips to get her in the mood. I felt like I was losing control, but I reminded myself to keep it cool; I didn’t want another bedside disaster.

I continued while she pushed against my face and wrapped her legs around my shoulders. I held onto her thighs to maintain precision when I moved to her clitoris. Her jagged breathing and soft moans told me that I was doing a good job. Had I heard my other one night stands enjoying themselves like this? I wasn´t sure.

- Wait, hold on – she said as she reached to the right inside a drawer. She took out a vibrator and switched it on, then handed it to me. – Use that – she said as she regained her spread position on the table. She handed me a condom with it too, which confused me.

I put the condom on the vibrator and switched it on. As soon as she felt the pressure on her, though, she closed her legs and scolded me with a sharp “no”. I looked up, confused.

- It’s for you. Hence the condom – she explained – I thought you might want some fun too.

Well, that made a lot more sense now. And to be honest, my vagina was feeling kind of neglected. With my face back in its proper position, I moved my knickers aside and introduced the vibrator inside me. It was one of those that have a nub at the base that also touches on your clit and one of the fancy ones too. Pros of having sex with a rich lady, I guess. And geesh, was it effective. To round it all up I put my fingers inside her and pushed towards me to stimulate her G spot. 

Her moans were no longer soft and contained, but had turned into throaty groans. My confidence shot up and I went down on her with an intensity without precedent.

- I’m cumming – she said soon after – like, now!

I felt her body shiver and, with the confidence that only someone like her could muster, she lifted me by the chin and kissed me on the lips. She turned the vibrator around and moved it up and down while drawing circles on my clitoris with her spare hand. Her determination for my pleasure excited me so much it didn’t take long for me to follow in her steps.

Now that it was over, everything had gone weird again. My insecurity was flourishing like never before. Had I done a good job? Would she call me again if she could? Did she feel like she’d wasted her time?

I picked up my clothes and started to dress. She just looked at me, confident even in her nudity. As I opened the door to leave, she called me back:

- Hey! Next time, try approaching your crush without being so creepy. Maybe then they’ll call you back.

Photo by Jules D. on Unsplash


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