At a Jimmy Buffett Concert

This is a truer story than you might think. It really happen, and believe it or not I add nothing to it that didn’t happen.

Several years ago, I held a summer job at an amusement park. I was a local college student home for the off- season, and lived near the park. In addition to many “townies” like myself, the park also employed a great number of college students from all over the region, who would come to the park for the summer, stay in specially provided on-site housing (read “dorms”) and worked like hell all summer for minimum wage plus a dollar. This was the case with Jane.

Jane was a second year employee at the park. She was about 5′ 6″ and built very nicely. An attractive blonde, she had a very pretty face – slightly rounded, with a great smile. She was very easy to get along with, and she had been very helpful in “showing me the ropes” of the job. Unlike many amusement park jobs, this one involved some brainpower – she was bright, and very friendly.

Unlike many of the alleged protagonists of similar stories, I am no exceptional physical specimen myself. I am tall – about 6′ 3″ and change, dark haired, and large fairly athletic build. I was a high school football tight end, and have been able to keep fairly well in shape in the years since then. I have never had the “looks” to attract women by the hordes (like several of my close friends) but I have always been able to get along well with my presentable appearance, my intellect, and my fairly quick sense of humor.

Anyway, the summer was coming to a close at the park. A good sense of camaraderie had fallen over the office where we worked. Among the forty or so employees in our unit, most were college-age students, and we had learned the job together. We all had to work a lot of late nights, so the informal work en- vironment spurred a lot of friendships We used to spend a lot of time listening to music and shooting the breeze until the wee hours in the morning.

One night in early August, I was working with Jane and a couple others on the graveyard shift. We were listening to the radio and heard the nightly trivia question – something about Richard Pryor’s auto- biographical movie. Jane and I both guessed it at the same time – “JoJo Dancer, Your Life is Calling.” (Don’t mess with me at Trivial Pursuit!) Jane punched the dial on her phone, and sure enough she was the random caller selected to win the prize of two tickets to that weekend’s Jimmy Buffett concert. She half-jokingly told me that we’d go together, since we’d come up with the answer together. Later that night, on our way to our cars, she let me know that she would like me to go with her to the concert.

Well, as a typical guy, I had a couple of days to contemplate the possibilities. You know, now that I started thinking about it, Jane wasn’t a bad looking woman after all. She was two or three years older than me, and had a strange combination of “play- fulness” and “matureness” about her. And, as I began to take a little closer inventory (by the typical male perspective of grabbing a peek at her backside when she walked by…) I realized that I had a “live one” on the hook. Jane was about as good a find as I could hope to land.

On Saturday night, I drove over to Jane’s apartment near the park. We chatted there for a while, talked with her roommate (a rather attractive looking Asian woman named Mia) and decided that we’d take Jane’s car to the concert- about an hour away. We got on our way, leaving some time to show up and get seated well before the show started.

We arrived with plenty of time, got our space, laid out a blanket, and cleaved into the “snacks” Jane had prepared. Well, to my mild surprise, she had whipped up a batch of margaritas – almost a gallon, complete with rock salt!! We feasted on margaritas, munchies, and more margaritas, and relaxed under the warm summer night.

As the evening progressed and the show started, I became increasingly entranced with Jane’s hair – it seemed almost radiant. Jane was a beautiful young woman, and through some act of fate I was there – with her – on such a beautiful night.

As Jimmy and the Coral Reefer Band closed out their second set, Jane and I seemed to hit a “zone.” We were up and dancing to “Changes in Latitude” and having a great time of it – she had let her hair down completely, and was frolicking in her blue-green summer dress with the last of our margarita supply in hand. I had taken leave of my usually reserved self, and was every bit as animated.

At the end of the song, we collapsed onto our blanket, and before I realized what was happening, Jane was on top of me – her lips on mine, her hands holding my head by the sides. She kissed me powerfully, the zeal coming from some combination of passion unknown and margaritas since downed. Regardless of the source, I was more than happy to oblige her hungry mouth. She took my response twofold, and forced her mouth around my open lips, stunning me with her almost selfish persistence. At last, she let me go, rolled off of me, and took a deep breath.

“Michael,” she said, “I’ve been wanting to do that for the longest time.”

“Really?” I replied, stunned.

“Really. Thanks for coming tonight.”

“My pleasure,” I assured her. I couldn’t have been more honest. Men tend to have these thoughts about women- how they might be harboring sexual inclinations toward us that same way we have for them. I had allowed myself to think this about Jane, even. But I am too cynical (skeptical? pessimistic?) to have believed that it was true.

We proceeded to rest awhile – it seemed like half an hour to wait, and me out the band as they played the beginnings of their obligatory “encore.”

Jane and I were sitting together, now much more closely, and enjoying the tunes. After a while, I placed my hand on the back of her neck, and firmly rolled by fingertips over her shoulder. Predictably, her muscles melted under the touch, and she collapsed into my arm and body. I rolled back onto the blanket, and pulled her over to me. We embraced and kissed again, this time with my lead. I kissed her on the lips and neck, all the time holding her by the shoulders and neck. She purred to me, “I was hoping that you would do something like this…” providing me just the right encouragement. I slid one hand down her back, noticing the delicious curve of her back arching toward her voluptuous bottom. Jane had some very dangerous curves – not always easy to tell when she wore the amusement park uniform (a very unisex tan pants/blue shirt ensemble), but very apparent to me now. I maneuvered her over, to where I could better manipulate her back, placing her on her stomach. She protested at first but my firm hands along her spine did all the convincing I would need.

The evening had darkened considerably, and most of the crowd around us had moved up to an open area ahead to dance, so we had a modicum of privacy. I felt that I had been granted this chance- so I might as well go for it. I slid my hands along her back, and gradually undid the buttons fastening her sun dress.

She must have noticed, but I suppose she playfully went along with the charade. Then, I placed my hands onto the skin of her back. She sighed loudly – I could hear it over the fading music – and motioned for me to get the extra cover blanket that she had packed. I did so promptly – letting my mind race at the avenues that this could open up.

Together we pulled the blanket over most of her, and some of me. It practically obscured us from the people in the surrounding areas, and that seemed fine to both of us. I got back to the important matter at hand – getting my paws onto Jane’s very warm and inviting body. As she lay back down, Jane managed to slide out of the top of her sundress a bit – very casually, but it wasn’t a mistake. As I got back to her, it was one easy step to unhook her bra, and let its clasps fall to the ground. This allowed me one of the true delights of a well-endowed woman-grasping the sides of her breasts from behind as I pressed my chest against her back. She responded with a very warm purr – and an arching of her back exposing the fullness of her breasts to my now very curious fingertips. I reached around her stomach, chest, and breasts, and was delighted with the response she gave out not in words, but in body language.

After a few moments of groping (for lack of a better word) she said one word to me, “unbutton.” All in all, not a bad word to hear at this point in time, but a little ambiguous. “I have,” I said back. “Not me, you.” Ahhhh…..

I quickly danced my digits down the strip of fastenings on my shirt, exposing my chest to her back.

I pressed my bare chest against Jane’s now-fully exposed back, enjoying the feeling of flesh on flesh.

She looked at me over her shoulder and said quietly, “keep unbuttoning.” I gulped, and grasped what she had in mind. I was certainly ready for sex, and any reservations that I think I ordinarily would have had just didn’t seem to come up at that moment. I pulled myself off of her for a moment, undid my jeans, pulled them down along with my boxer shorts, and moved back to my position atop her.

I realized that as I had attended to myself, Jane had done the same. She had removed her panties, and had “adjusted” her dress to be almost completely around her waist. As I pulled the blanket over my back, I realized that we were about to ascend the level of intimacy of this more-than-friendly backrub.

I ran my hands from her shoulders down the sides of her torso, glancing the side of her beautiful breasts, and down over her hips. She had fantastic womanly curves, much to my liking, and I complemented her shape. Jane giggled at me, and guided my left hand down to her ass. I rested both hands on her ass and I massaged the firm tissue. She turned her attention forward, and implied that I was doing well.

By this point, my own manhood had become more than a passive player in this drama. As I was sitting, my dick was placed between her thighs, finding a certain warmth there as I gently grazed it back and forth along with the stroking motions onto her back and backside. The feeling was fantastic for me (again, being a typical guy, just about any direct contact with my dick is enough to qualify as “fantastic”) but I wondered if this was arousing to Jane. As I continued to rub the small of her back with my left hand, I subtly moved my right hand between her legs.

I was astounded at how wet she was. I couldn’t believe how easily my fingers slipped into her wait- ing space. She felt remarkably warm, and her body almost immediately convulsed. She made a noise, not quite a squeal, but a muffled sort of shout. And she reached back to grab my right arm – but missed. She quivered for a few seconds, then exhaled loudly and giggled. “In a minute, I’ll do it again,” she quipped.

“What?” I said to myself. Do it again? Did she just come from my touching her? Apparently so, as she arched her backside up, beckoning me to touch her again. I obliged, and placed three fingers a ways inside her, finding her sides and stroking her gently.

She writhed this time, but remained silent. I now had both hands focused on her pussy, with the exception of the times that I jolted out to grab the edge of the cover blanket. Jane was almost up onto all fours now, and I had moved off of her thighs and onto the ground just behind her. I struggled to keep us covered- more out of instinct than out of embarrassment.

Jane flopped down onto to ground and made the same exhaling sound followed by the same little giggle. She kicked her legs up, motioning me back to my perch on her haunches. I obliged, and moved my hands back up to her shoulders. I gripped her tightly, and she spread her legs just slightly, making my path to her even more apparent. I pressed myself up against her back, and gently slid into her from behind.

The feeling of being surrounded by her – so hot and so very wet- was overwhelming. She was, no doubt, very aroused by the evolving passion that had sprung between us. And the pair of orgasms that she had had by my hand (literally!) did nothing to dim her warmth.

I held myself inside her for a moment, and continued to rub her left shoulder as I balanced my weight on my right arm. She turned her head to the left, and began to clench her teeth. I began to pull out slowly, and she quietly shrieked “no!” pushing herself back against me. I held inside her again, and she resumed her almost pained expression.

We held that position for about twenty seconds – I was pushed entirely inside her – and I held firmly as I tried to rub her shoulder. After that time, she lurched forward and made another indescribable muffled sound. I partially pulled out of her as she moved, but quickly pushed back inside. The motion was a very good one-the physical sensation of the thrust was almost overwhelming.

I repeated the motion a few more times, pressing myself firmly against her back, feeling myself push completely up into her hot space. She moved her hands forward, grasping the grass just beyond the edge of the blanket, and turning her head to the left.

She began a quiet sort of moaning, which I took as encouragement, and continued my plowing motion. I pushed harder and harder, and her body responded perfectly – providing me with just the right resis- tance and feeling perfectly wonderful.

After only another moment, I erupted into her with every bit of the pressure that had been building up the entire week. Every time I had considered her smile, every time I snuck a look at her terrific ass, every time I speculated about her intentions in inviting me to the show- it all exploded through my dick and into her box. I filled her up for several seconds, and I heard her make the same little “O” noise that I had grown accustomed to by now. It must have been some- thing like her sixth! She then followed it up with a giggle, and I with a long, measured sigh of my own.

I rolled off of her, and gathered her into my arms. She re-assembled some of her dress, and nestled into my chest. We pulled the blanket over our mostly bare bottom halves, and laid together for a few minutes.

As the sexual euphoria wore off, we began to realize how much of the “main event” we had missed. The music was completely over. Most of the crowd had dispersed. And it appeared that our little event had gone completely unnoticed. We had a laugh about it, and started to assemble ourselves a bit. Shoot – we had even missed “Margaritaville” !!!

“Cheers!” came a voice from behind us. We both looked over, and saw a tall, gangly guy with a gray beard and a Hawaiian shirt (typical garb for a Jimmy show) and a six-pack ring with two beers. He walked towards us, and offered us each a light beer. “You two put on a better show than Jimmy did, man!” He laughed, and walked back to his group of friends, all of whom were doubled over laughing. Jane and I quickly gave up our “innocent” looks, and held up our beers in a solute to the group.

Jane and I only had three more weeks to work together. She was heading back to school to start her Masters program, I was heading back East to begin my sophomore year in college. We went out once more, but never had an experience quite like the one we had on the lawn with Jimmy Buffett.