When I approached the bar manager at the Lakeshore Tavern about starting an open mic night he readily agreed. The Lakeshore Tavern has been a musician/songwriter haven since the early seventies Paul Butterfield got his start there. So I was tasked with putting together a house band and playing host for the evening of performers. I printed flyers, found a drummer, Keith. a thirty-six year old fireman eager to live out his rock and roll fantasy. The bass player, Beth, was a grad student at Depaul my alma mater, she is twenty-four with short blond hair, green eyes, five-four, tattoo and pierced.

We jammed together a few times before the big night to get the feel of each other. The sound was tight and the chemistry was good. As the first night approached Beth and I started hanging out together, jamming or just talking, she became a regular visitor to my apartment, hanging out. I enjoy her company, so young, so free, I missed my college innocent years before life became real.

She was over on Wednesday night, laying on the couch facing each other, strumming and playing with our acoustic guitars, singing folk songs. She was dressed in ripped jeans a Depaul university T-shirt, with no bra on her small breast. her nipples poking at the fabric. Beth’s barefoot tapping mine as we played music istanbul travesti a growing dampness gathering in my black lace panties.

Taking I break, I got up to retrieve us some more beers, Beth said she was headed to the bathroom. Returning to the couch I sipped my beer waiting for her return. When I heard her first moans it took a minute to realize they were moans of delight. The sound was intoxicating to my ears as I stood almost in a trance and walked down the hall to investigate. Reaching the doorway to my bedroom I saw Beth naked on my king size bed.

Her hands fondling her breast, pinching her hard nipples, caressing, squeezing them, moaning in pleasure or pain. Bringing one breast to her mouth, teasing, flicking her long tongue over the hard nipple. Taking her time, putting on a good show, I let my hand slide down, into my panties to my waiting wet pussy. Watching her my eyes transfixed on the show.

Beth was rubbing her cunt softly, caressing, making love to herself, legs in the air, her cute little toes painted pink, letting her fingers play with her pussy lips. Inserting one, two fingers, three, inside her thrusting into that wet cunt. Using the other hand to find her swollen clit, rubbing it, the whole time starring into my blue eyes. Her juices istanbul travestileri making a slurping sound as her fingers thrust in then out. She was skilled at the art of fucking herself, performing for me.

Tingling all over, legs spread, knees bent, what a great view of her sexy body I had. My juices trickling down my thigh – shivers up my spine. Watching each other please ourselves, moaning, rising off the bed to meet her fingers, plunging deep inside that wet pussy. Waves of sheer pleasure encompassing me, something primal taking over, losing all rational control, serving only to lust and desire, pleasure. Licking her fingers eagerly, Beth gasped “I’m yours, take me, make me cum for you, watch me perform.”

Steeping out of my jeans and panties, performing for each other, watching her touching her pussy, writhing in pleasure, watching me perform as she performs for me. Lust, desire, eyes filled with voyeuristic pleasure, our screams forming a perfect harmony. Orgasms leaving us exhausted, spent, climbing in next to her, snuggling close together, so warm, arms and legs intertwined. I could lay here all night, lost in the moment, but the crowd rises to their feet, chanting one more, one more.

“shall we give them an encore?” I asked Beth.

Swinging travesti istanbul around, to find Beth’s beautiful warm wet pussy, straddling her sweet face, lowering, feeling her long tongue and silver stud, her nose in my red bush, sweet sixty-nine. Her scent is intoxicating, tasting her cunt, pussy juices covering my face, grinding into Beth’s mouth. Feeling her hands grab my ass cheeks, this bed is our love stage, so good together, making music or making love. Muffled moans filling my ears, raising her hips to meet my tongue, we are the stars of the show.

Crowd going wild as we play out the encore, dragging it out, hitting the finer notes. Sex sounds filling the bedroom, I love the artist she is and the artist she helped me become, come with baby for the big climax. Orgasms crashing over us, faces dripping, cries of delight, crowd roaring, bodies shaking, toes curling, pure pleasure, another great show, take a bow, thank the crowd. Exiting the stage covered in sweat, into the back room, hugging, kissing, I love performing with Beth.

She is a kindred spirit, a fellow performer, a lover of beautiful sounds, the show must go on. The first open mic night was fun sharing the night/stage with fellow musicians, performers, lovers of sound. Ending in the back room Beth went down, into my red bush, eating my wet pussy with her long tongue and silver stud. Grabbing her hair pulling her in, screaming in delight, has her long tongue works it’s magic. The art of the performance, bringing pleasure, what a beautiful sight Beth on her knees her face buried in my cunt.