Backstage Titjob and Creampie After the Festival

The autumn night breeze gently swayed the tents at the festival grounds. Asahi, working as staff as usual, was running around. The music festival "Autumn Beats" swirled with the energy of indie bands, and I handled the sound. Checking mics and adjusting lights backstage, drenched in sweat, was my daily routine. The air felt cool, and a damp wind carrying the scent of fallen leaves brushed my cheeks. Distant bass rumbled through the ground. Cheers from the crowd melted into the night sky, quickening my pulse. Today's headliner was the rumored indie singer Hana. Her voice cut sharp like flames of revenge, piercing listeners' hearts. I was supposed to manage her sound setup but hadn't met her before the show.

The festival reached its climax as Hana's stage began. I soaked in her voice from the monitor room. The lyrics through the mic channeled the pain of heartbreak into music. The theme was "musical revenge," according to the notes. She had turned resentment toward an ex into song. Her voice was sweet yet bittersweet, laced with venom. Percussion rhythms pulsed in my gut, raising goosebumps on my neck. Stage lights outlined her silhouette, her black dress blending into the autumn dark. The moment cheers erupted at the end of her set, a voice crackled over my headset. "Asahi, stop by the dressing room. It's about the equipment." I thought it was another staff member, but the voice belonged to Hana herself. My heart leapt. I hurried toward the backstage area.

The dressing room sat at the edge of the festival grounds, a simple tent-like space. Outside, the cold night wind blew through; inside, the heated air felt stuffy. Opening the flap, I found Hana seated on the sofa, wiping sweat. Her hair, golden under the stage lights earlier, now clung damp and dark to her cheeks. Her breath came quick, chest rising and falling. That chest... I'd seen it in photos, but it exceeded imagination. Her full breasts emphasized the cleavage of her dress, rippling with each breath. The air carried her sweat mingled with faint vanilla perfume. I swallowed hard and said, "About the equipment? Any trouble?" while listening to the tent fabric flapping in the wind.

Hana grinned and stood, approaching me. Her eyes sparkled with post-performance glow, lips slightly moist. "Trouble? Something like that. Asahi, remember me? I'm Hana. We met three years ago at an indie fest through your friend Taro." I started. Taro was an old friend with music industry connections. Indeed, three years back he had brought a girl saying, "I know an interesting singer." Hana. At the time Taro had been dating her, but they split suddenly. I didn't know why, yet now her eyes seemed to burn with revenge. "Wait, you're that Hana? No way, today's headliner? Taro said your songs were intense." Surprise filled me; the tent air grew tense. Distant cheers and rustling autumn leaves sounded eerie.

She chuckled and placed a hand on my shoulder. Her fingertips felt warm, heat transferring through my shirt. "That's right. I turned Taro's betrayal into musical revenge. You know, right? He stole my songs for his own band. So my latest tracks are all copies of his. But you're different, aren't you? As staff, you delivered my sound properly." Surprise after surprise. I had no idea Taro had done that. Hana's voice stayed sweet yet edged. Her full breasts brushed lightly against my chest, the soft sensation sending a jolt through me. Flustered, I replied, "That's... unexpected from Taro. I didn't know. But your stage was incredible. Those revenge songs hit hard." I tried humor to ease the tension.

Hana's eyes narrowed as she licked her lips. "Heh, then as thanks, help me with a special revenge. I'll unleash what I've been holding onto Taro's friend." She took my hand and pulled me toward the sofa. The tent lighting dimmed, her skin glowing pale. My heart pounded; the scent of sweat thickened. Outside wind rocked the tent as if concealing the moment. Hana slowly unzipped her dress, exposing her full breasts. No bra. They swayed heavily, volume beyond imagination. Pink nipples stood hard, trembling slightly in the autumn chill. "Look, Asahi. This will overwrite Taro's memory." At her words, heat surged between my legs.

Breathing heavily, I reached for her breasts. Soft, warm, overflowing my palms. The sinking sensation of my fingers felt incredible. Hana lowered my pants and grasped my erection. Her hand was slender yet strong. "Heh, bigger than Taro. Perfect tool for revenge." Whispering with humor, she knelt. Pressing her breasts together, she sandwiched me between them. A titjob. Soft flesh enveloped me, smooth skin creating friction. Visually overwhelming, the sway of her breasts captivated my eyes. She moved slowly up and down, occasionally extending her tongue to lick the tip. The warmth of saliva mixed with sweet taste, making my hips tremble involuntarily. "How's that? Enjoy my breasts enough for Taro too." Her playful, erotic words continued. Gasping, I replied, "Incredible... Hana, you're amazing. Taro's an idiot for missing this." The lingering festival music outside blended like background to our breaths.

She shifted to oral. Hana pressed her breasts against my thighs and took me deep into her mouth. Warm wetness engulfed me, her tongue wrapping around. Wet sounds echoed in the tent, saliva dripping. I gripped her hair and thrust my hips. Sight: her full breasts swaying, nipples brushing. Sound: slick noises and her moans. Scent: sweat and vanilla pheromones. Taste: sweetness of her lips. Touch: tongue texture and breast softness. All senses overwhelmed, my mind blanked. "Mmm... Asahi, deeper... This is revenge, my musical revenge!" Hana pulled away, panting. Humor laced her tone; I nearly laughed. "Revenge feels this good? Thanks to Taro."

Passion peaked; I pushed her onto the sofa. Stripping her dress completely, I exposed her lower body. Her entrance was already wet, quivering in the cool autumn air. I attempted entry without protection. "Wait, I'm going to finish inside... okay?" Hana's eyes gleamed. "Of course. Marking revenge on Taro's friend with a creampie!" she whispered. I thrust in fully. Hot, tight, her walls clenching around me. Starting to thrust, her full breasts bounced wildly against my chest. Sweat flew; the tent air grew thick and heated. Cold wind slipped in from outside, the contrast heightening excitement. "Ah, Asahi! Harder than Taro!" Her cries rang like song. I drove my hips, kneading her breasts. Their weight responded in my hands; climax approached.

Climax. My movements quickened, Hana's moans filling the tent. "I'm coming... finishing inside!" I cried out, releasing hot spurts deep within her. The sensation of the creampie made me shudder. Her walls spasmed, milking me. Her breasts glistened with sweat, her face twisting in ecstasy. "Nngh... Revenge complete... Asahi, you're my new melody." Surprise after surprise brought passion to its peak. Learning of Taro's betrayal, Hana's revenge manifesting this way felt unreal.

Afterglow. We embraced on the sofa, catching our breath. Outside grew quiet, festival noise fading. Autumn night wind entered through tent gaps, cool against skin. Hana's full breasts rested against my chest, warmth lingering. She traced my chest with a finger. "Keep it from Taro. But I'd like to see you again. For my next song, with your sound work." She smiled. I nodded. "Yeah, promise. Looking forward to more revenge." Yet a bittersweet feeling remained. Hana would continue her indie path. As staff, I cherished this night's memory while regretting the parting. Leaving the tent, her kiss lingered on my lips, autumn leaf scent gently enveloping us. The festival night ended, but our melody seemed set to continue.