Podcasts about convention hall

Shagging a stranger while Trump talks success in politics & business. By Tx Tall Tales. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. I was a little delayed getting to the Convention Hall where he was going to speak, but my red VIP badge got me past the "velvet rope" down to the front 10 rows, which were looking pretty full. The hall was split up into a bunch of sections during the day, with low pipe & drape curtain panels used to separate the VIP purchase area from the hoi-poloi, and to make virtual rooms to one side and the other, as well as to create a backstage area. It was a business & leadership conference with speakers like Tony Robbins, Donald Trump, and a long list of others. One of the ushers waved me over, pointing to one of the few open seats left. I "excuse-me"d down to the spot, and wedged myself in between two attractive women, a blonde on my left and a brunette on my right. Because we were sitting in the rightmost section of the seats, the main podium was over to my left as well. As such you tended to sit turned in your seat a bit, for a more natural view, which placed the brunette "behind" me and the blonde in "front" of me. Now I'm not a little guy. Not huge, but my shoulders are a good bit wider than most. And at 220 lbs, I'm mostly muscle, though a good way from having 'abs of steel'. The biggest problem is I'm wide. W-I-D-E. Really wide in the shoulders with a 48 inch chest. My Hawaiian heritage. It makes for uncomfortable seating in coach-class on airplanes, and in places like this, where the chairs are locked together, and they're all made for 118 lb. weaklings, and little things, like the size 2 women on either side of me. A speaker was just finishing up, and when he went into pitch mode, I asked the blonde "How was he?" "I don't know, I just got here a minute ago too. I'm here for Trump." Let me get this out up front. I'm a horn-dog, with an addiction to women. I love blondes. "What are you here for? At the Motivational Expo, I mean," I asked her, surreptitiously taking in her pretty face, turned up nose, cute eyeglasses, and pinned up blonde hair. Her hands were free of any rings. "Mostly just hanging out," she told me. I thought it seemed kind of odd. It cost a couple of hundred bucks to 'hang-out' in the VIP section, less if you signed up early and were on the right mailing list. Maybe a $100. But still pricey for "hanging out." Even stranger was the way she was sitting. There was another pretty big black guy sitting on the other side of her, and he had all his materials from the day on the floor between his legs, forcing him to sit with his legs open. As soon as I sat down, she moved away from him, leaving a couple of inches gap, and scooted up right next to me, her side pressed against mine. Then she turned away and watched the stage. We were quiet for a bit, and I tried to start a conversation again. A glutton for punishment, I do this a lot. I like people. I like to talk to people. I guess I'm a bit of an extrovert sometimes. And in a setting like this, anybody could be a great networking contact. "What do you do?" I asked. She spoke softly, and I had to bend down to hear her. Damn, she smelled good too. "I own my own business, how about you?" she answered. "Some real-estate investment, some writing, a real-life job I wouldn't mind ditching. I'm thinking of getting into a gig like this - professional speaking." I told her. She patted me on the leg, a pretty friendly thing to do, I thought, then said, "Will you save my seat for me while I go take a smoke break?" "Absolutely. I wouldn't dream of letting anyone else sit next to me." I told her with my most charming boyish smile, which seldom works, but you can't fault a guy for trying. She patted me on the arm again, giving it a little squeeze, and then eased her way past me and out the row. She left her tote bag with all her materials, so I didn't think she was just blowing me off nicely. As she walked by, I took the time to check more of her out. Definitely a looker, with a light zip-up sweatshirt (unzipped) over a scoop-neck white tee, and a blue jean skirt that hugged her very pleasant looking hips. She had long slender legs that ended in ankle-high white socks and a pair of black canvas sneakers. Looked like Converse. I estimated her age in the early 20's. Yeah, I know, I'm a dirty old man, getting worked up over a girl 1/2 my age. Before I knew it, my blonde neighbor was returning. I sat back in my chair to let her by, and she sat back down, once again sidling right up next to me. I mean close contact. I have to tell you this was definitely new territory for me. I've known friendly women, and aggressive women, but this woman just seemed to like pressing against me. My mind was spinning trying to figure this out, it wasn't something in my known realm of experiences, and not to brag, but I have had my share. I had a choice of sitting with my arms crossed, and shoulders pulled in, or taking up half the seats on either side of me. But I could also turn a bit in the seat, and put my arm behind the seat to my side, which I did, especially easy since we were in the last VIP row, and there was an open space behind us with the barrier between us and the green-badgers. "Blondie" must have considered this some kind of invitation. She turned even more into me, and turned her head, resting it on my shoulder. She took several opportunities to pat me on the leg and arm again. I've read a few books on body behavior, and everything I know tells me this was a sign that I could be more forward, but I was still very hesitant. It seemed a spectacularly weird place to be hitting on a strange woman. But my little head was starting to wake up and do part of the thinking for me. The lights started to go down, implying the start of the next program. Blondie, whose name I still hadn't gotten, leaned forward to take off her sweat-jacket, revealing bare shoulders, and a nice pair of breasts, if on the smallish side. She patted me on the leg again, her hand lingering, and she gave a squeeze. "This should be good to hear," she admitted. She was turned a bit in her seat, facing the podium and leaning into me, fully half her weight pressed against me. I could smell the baby-powder she'd used early in the day, and the slight hint of where the long day of sitting in cramped quarters was finally winning the battle against her deodorant. The smell of her was getting me even hotter, it was going to be hard to pay attention to Trump. He'd better be good. I was able to look over her shoulder, and had a pretty good view into her shirt. I'm not a giant at 6'1", but I have a long torso, and when seated I tend to be a head above those around me. It gave for a great vantage point to look her over. Not a lot of cleavage, but I could clearly see her red bra, which had a big red flower, better than an inch across, right where the cup met the strap. The show helpers were walking down the aisle, passing out signs for us. These read "Trump for President", the ones that we got, at least. There were other ones being passed around, one said "You're FIRED", and there was at least one other one. My pretty blonde neighbor took out a marker and started writing on her sign. She wrote "Divorced" over TRUMP, and "Is So" between the words TRUMP and For. Then she wrote "Cool" between For and President. I wasn't sure what that message was. "He is divorced, right?" She asked me, again patting my leg. My leg was beginning to really like that, as my little head reminded me. "Twice. Ivana, and Marla Maples. He's married again since then." I told her. "I don't watch much TV." She said, putting down her pen, holding her sign in her lap, and resting her near hand on my knee. I was really confused. Was she just friendly? Was she coming on to me? What was going on? "She wants you," the little head told me, encouraging my addiction. "Don't be such a pussy!" She reached up to loosen her hair, and took the bun out. She started to twist it back up, and my little head spoke aloud for the first time, putting words in my mouth. "Leave your hair down," I told her softly. It's something that's worked for me before in the pursuit of females. I've found that if they're interested, they often like a bit of harmless dominance. You know, some silly little comment that you expect them to obey. If they do, you're often on your way to success. She hesitated, with both hands over her head, her hair half twisted, and an elastic in her other hand. She slowly let her hair back down, and dropped the elastic into her tote bag, then shook her hair out. At this point the president of the Learning Annex came on stage to announce that The Donald was in the building, and we started a chant of Trump, Trump, Trump, led by the show workers on stage, a bevy of about a dozen typical Dallas beauties, and a couple of guys. Donald Trump came on stage to lights and explosions, and thousands of gold foil rectangles burst out over the audience, and trickled down while Donald took his place at the podium. While the clapping continued the gold streamers fell among us, and one landed in her hair. I reached over and plucked it out, handing it to her, and then stroked her hair back into place. It didn't need the stroking, but I did. Unlike the other speakers who wanted you to stand through his whole bit, Trump told us all to sit. Then he started talking about how the show people knew how to "Feed his addiction", and he asked the guys to leave the stage, leaving all the pretty girls behind him. I immediately knew that The Donald and I were kindred souls, sharing that common addiction. Blondie was sitting leaning against me once more, her right arm casually laid across my left leg, her hand dangling between my legs, near my knees. My partner in crime between my legs was fully awake now, uncomfortably so, looking to stretch out. Donald was talking about the beautiful women of Dallas, getting lots of cheers from the audience, including from the girls beside me. He went on to say he hated makeup, but when the makeup girl here asked if he needed any, how could he say no? He then called her out on stage, and a gorgeous latino girl with the classic Plano, store bought breasts walked out on stage and he called her over, looking for a hug. Damn, I was jealous. The man had game. I'm sure a few Billion in the bank didn't hurt. Then he pointed out another pretty woman in the front row holding up his book. She stood up and he invited her on stage. I'd sat behind this girl the day before, a six foot tall Amazon, just graduated from college. She had long very blonde hair, and was a stunner. He kept her on stage, while she asked some silly self-serving question, and he commented again how beautiful our women were, and complained that he was being setup, everyone here know of his "addiction." Again he got laughs and cheers from the crowd. He kept her up there for a couple of minutes, hugged her and whispered to her (a hotel room number, maybe?), then she went off stage, but not back to her seat. "It's a good thing he can't see you." I told my blonde friend softly. "You'd never get off stage." She giggled and turned her face a bit to me. "You think so?" I looked down at her open neck, and saw one of the gold streamers had fallen against her skin. Not quite in her cleavage, but under her neck. I reached forward, brazenly, and slowly lifted it free, letting the heal of my hand rest on her breast for just a moment. I held out the piece of gold foil for her, which she took in her left hand, her other still lying comfortable across my leg. She dropped it in her tote bag. "Absolutely," I told her. The lights were down, and Donald was starting to tell his stories. They were pretty interesting, giving us a little of his history. My new found fantasy was still leaning into me, comfortably with her head on my shoulder. Her hand on my leg was idly drawing little circles on my inside thigh, just above my knee, and I was uncomfortably hard. I was turned, my arm behind the seats, just hanging down. I brought it up to rest on the back of her chair, my hand softly touching her bare shoulder. She didn't flinch or turn away. Donald was talking politics a bit and mentioned getting in trouble for using Condi Rice and "bitch" in the same sentence. He went on to talk about how he wasn't calling her a bitch, just the opposite. He wanted a hard-boiled negotiator, someone who looked polished and professional but could be a bitch when needed. He didn't think that Condi had it in her. When he talked about professional appearance, he pointed out the suits that many were wearing, and the professional looking women down in front. My little head took completely over again. I reached across and my fingers, with almost a life of their own, slipped into the edge of her shirt, giving a little tug on her bright red bra, underneath her demure white shirt. I held the red rose in my fingers, and teased her. "Professional dress?" "Bitch in the boardroom, devil in the bedroom," she answered, giving my leg a squeeze. I tucked the bra-strap away, letting my thumb graze her cleavage, expecting to get shot down any moment. Instead her hand slid half-way up my leg, only a couple of inches away from the jackpot. Donald started into his diatribe against that "awful ugly creature, the ugliest thing on TV, physically and mentally," none other then Rosie. "She could never have come from Dallas." In the meantime my blood was boiling. I opened my legs a hair, pressing against hers, and I let my arm far arm cross hers in my lap, applying light pressure to get her to slide up further on my leg. I was holding the sign we'd been given, effectively hiding my lap, and her hand slowly gave under the slight pressure, easing up my leg, until her hand was resting against my balls, and my hard-on pressing against her wrist. "You're enjoying the show," she said softly, without turning her head. Then she gave her hand a little twist and cupped my balls, giving a gentle squeeze. I slid my hand on the back of the seat under her hair, cupping her neck, and massaging gently. I couldn't resist this amazing vixen. I leaned in, right to her ear. "I've got to have you. It's killing me." She turned to look at me. "I really wanted to hear Donald," she said, but her hand stroked my hardness. I reached down and took her hand off my crotch, (blasphemy!), and stood, her hand in mine. I pulled her to her feet. "You'll hear him." Then I walked out of that row, glad that I was wearing an untucked Hawaiian shirt, which partially hid my state. She followed along, her hand moist in mine. My mind was running a mile a minute. I thought I had a great chance to do something with this girl, but where? How? I looked over the area we were in, debated trying to get behind the large ‘pipe & drape' curtains that separated the stage and the area behind it from the rest of the room. The main entrance was filled almost to capacity with people standing and watching. However the opposite end of the hall from the main entrance was in complete dark. It had been used as part of the registration from some of the classes, and was now shut down, with a rope preventing the back, general admission area from passing through. However on the VIP side of the ropes, there was a space to enter that area. And I decided to give it a shot. All this ran through my mind during the few seconds it took to scoot past the half-dozen people in our row. I walked confidently past the workers, all eyes on Trump, and out of the immediate Keynote area, past the pipe& drape partitions, into a large dark space, somewhat broken up by tables and barriers. I gave the beautiful target of my lust a little tug past me, then turned, moved a folding chair further into the area, I looked the space over. Now we were in a closed section, almost a long narrow room. On one side, away from Donald was a large dark open space, empty now. On the other side, maybe 5 feet from the pipe & drape' was the end of the chairs in the back of the Keynote hall. Thousands of people listening to Trump, hundreds of them cheering and clapping just a couple of yards away from us. My heart was pounding. My crotch was aching, and I could barely believe the audacity I had displayed in bringing this complete stranger into this semi-private space. She stood there waiting just a couple of feet from the lone chair. I approached her. I took her by the shoulders and turned her to face the stage, hidden from us. I stood behind her and whispered, "Can you hear him ok?" "Just fine," she answered, huskily, leaning back into me. I let my hands slide down her arms then reached around and took her breasts in my hands, cupping them, squeezing softly. I leaned in and kissed her neck, working up to her ear, where I nibbled on her ear lobe, my lips pressing against her two stud earrings. Her hands slid behind her back, and met at my crotch, rubbing me, while her head tilted to one side, giving me better access. I kissed and nuzzled her neck and chin, then slid around her, regretfully moving away from her hands. I stood in front of her, tilted her chin up, and kissed her. The crowd burst into cheers and I got goose bumps. She kissed me desperately, fiercely, her arms wrapping around me. I let my hands drop down to her firm, round ass, and pulled her hard against me. She ground her crotch against mine, while our tongues tangled. I had to break free eventually. As sweet as she was to kiss, I needed more. Much more. I pulled the chair around, facing away from us, and put her hands on the back of it, with her still facing the stage. I slid around her, my hands wandering all over her body, and then when I was directly behind her, I slid my hands down her thighs, and slowly brought them upwards. I lifted her tight skirt higher and higher, encountering a little resistance as they cleared the fullest part of her butt, exposing red bikini underwear, an obvious match to her bra. Her skirt was bunched up around her waist, and I leaned into her, again nuzzling her neck, while my hands caressed below her waist, first through the lacy red cloth, and then sliding inside, exploring her soft flesh. She was bent over just a bit, so she could hold onto the back of that chair, pushing her ass back towards me. I backed away, dropping to my knees, and slowly slid her underwear down her legs, kissing that sweet, white ass. This was a big deal. I thought I noticed some reluctance from her, and she trembled a bit, but seemed to settle down. This was really happening! She had a bit of a tan, not heavy, and her tan line was an irresistible attraction. I traced it with my tongue, from the outside of her hip across her ass, and down between her legs. She stepped out of her underwear, then opened her legs wider, bending low, resting her hands on the seat of the chair. It gave me greater access, and I continued the tongue bath, between her cheeks, past the cute little pucker of her ass, until my tongue could just curl up a bit and enter the bottom of her wet pussy. Her smell was strong, and devastating, and I grabbed her cheeks, spread them wider and licked and sucked her bare nether-lips tasting this stranger, and enjoying the action immensely. I had her trembling. Driving my tongue as far into her as possible, I tongue-fucked her repeatedly, while massaging her ass cheeks. Then I replaced my tongue with my finger, reaching inside her, rubbing the silken inner walls. One finger slowly became two, while I kissed and nibbled on her smooth butt cheeks. A third finger entered her, the going tight now, and my other hand pulled her ass cheek to the side so I could lick her moist bunghole. Her right hand slid back, and pulled her other cheek wide, opening herself up for me. While my fingers slid in and out of her steaming hole, my teasing tongue worried her rear, pushing at that brown puckered hole, until I could just work it's way in a bit, curling it and pushing hard, my tongue tip sliding into her ass repeatedly. While I familiarized myself with her sweet (and tangy) privates, the talk continued, and rounds of clapping and cheering just egged me on. I could feel her legs trembling, and then her butthole squeezed tight on my tongue and her pussy clamped down on my fingers, milking them in waves, while her juices flowed freely down my palm and the back of my hand. I wiggled my fingers inside her, until she loosened up a bit, and then I turned my hand, so my fingers could face forward. I removed one finger, and then pressed forward hard, searching for her G-spot while my thumb reached forward sliding through the sparse hair to find it's way onto her love button. I rubbed firmly and as she responded, pushing against my hand, I drove my tongue into her ass as far as I could, wiggling my chin as I went, and working a good inch or so into her. This time she almost collapsed, her knees buckling, and pulling her ass off my tongue. She gasped, but the sound was a whisper compared to the heavily amplified voice of The Donald regaling us with how he liked losers, because they made him feel so good. My hand was soaked in her juices which ran freely down the inside of her thighs. I leaned in between her legs, and licked her clean, up both thighs. I finally released her pussy, and stood back, looking at this pretty blonde stranger, bent over in front of me, her ass looking delicious, and the red swollen lips of her pussy calling out their siren song. I unbuckled my belt and slid my pants down, taking my boxers with them. I lowered them enough to free myself, my rock hard mast pointing towards it's desired goal. She never turned around to look at me, instead just waiting, hips thrust out. Shaft in hand, I shuffled towards her again, and slid the head of my cock between her lips, and with a nudge of my hips, pushed the head just inside of her. I was in heaven. Still holding onto my rod, I rubbed the head in and out, all over her swollen pussy, occasionally pushing an inch or so inside of her, but never really entering her completely. She started pushing back at me when I would get the head inside her steamy opening, and I finally fulfilled both our wishes, pushing my cock inexorably inside of her until I was buried to the hilt. I reached around her, inside of her shirt, and started playing with her breasts. My exploring fingers discovered a front latch and I popped it, allowing my hands unfettered access to her sweet little breasts, not much more than a handful, with hard little nipples that spoke volumes for her aroused state. My hips started in, slowly fucking her, while my hands played with her breasts, tugging on those unseen nipples. I was about as big and hard as I get. I'm not huge, but a bit above average in length, and very thick. Sometimes it takes a bit of work to get my full length buried inside some tight young twat, but this pretty blonde had no trouble accommodating my full length and thickness. I let go of her breasts and grabbed her hips, fucking her harder, giving long, full strokes that she eagerly accepted and pushed back against. I was feeling incredible, hard and ready, enjoying the sensation of being buried in this hot little tart, yet feeling no urgent compulsion to come. My legs were tiring a bit, having to stay bent a bit to work her over, and contained in my half dropped pants. I imagined hers were getting a bit tired as well. Between the oral attention and the protracted fucking, she'd probably been bent over, on her feet for more than 20 minutes. But The Donald was scheduled to speak for an hour and a half, and he was just warming up, as was I. I pulled out of her, and hitching my pants up with one hand, I walked in front of her. I stood her up, and kissed her again, pulling her naked crotch against mine. Then I turned the chair around and sat on it, facing her, my pants dropping to my ankles. I leaned back, holding my cock upright, and waited for her. She gave me a look, almost as if she was going to call me on my brazenness. With a devilish smile she stepped forward and straddled me, slowly lowering herself onto my ready pole. She reached down and opened herself up, spreading her lips and once I was positioned just right, sliding down my length. God, it felt good. I put my trust into the sturdiness of the heavy duty folding chair, and used my hands to lift her ass up and down, slowly screwing her with about half my length. She leaned in and started kissing me again, all over my face and neck, then covering my mouth with hers. We stopped moving, our bodies merged, and our lips and tongues explored each other's mouths for an eternity, while Trump talked about seizing opportunities. I would have made him proud. I lost myself in that kiss, and slowly coming out of it found her rocking up and down on my cock, tugging at it with her pussy, her muscles down there teasing me, squeezing me, begging me to give her more. My young blonde entrepreneur stood up, and then knelt before me and lowered her face to my lap. I spread my legs invitingly, while looking down at the ground. I was glad we were on a carpeted runner. Purely selfish reasons. I knew it would be more comfortable on her knees, meaning this might last more than just a few seconds. I needn't have worried. She was teasing in her oral, caressing, kissing, licking, blowing softly, but avoiding taking me into her mouth. She was a consummate tease. She must have spent five minutes at this before she rose up high on her knees, placed her mouth directly above me, and slowly pushed down, her mouth spread wide, as she took the better part of my hard-on into her mouth. She had a small mouth, and my thickness filled her. She looked so sexy, her head slowly bobbing up and down, while her hand's index finger and thumb created a ring half-way around my shaft, stroking me in counterpoint to her lips. She was still wearing her rectangular 'Lennon' type glasses, and she peered at me over the top of them. I was tensing up. This was feeling, and looking, too good. I could feel a load building up in my balls, begging for release. My seminar goddess slowly, teasingly, pulled her head off my cock. She kept stroking me, using all her fingers, and moving a little faster. She straightened up and pulled my face forward to hers. She kissed me, sweetly this time, lovingly. Then she leaned in and whispered to me, but I couldn't hear it for the noise, which had just exploded in response to some comment of Trumps. I gave her a quizzical look and she smiled. "Come in my mouth," she said louder this time, smiling for me. Taking my astounded look for consent, she went back to blowing me, sucking me aggressively, fucking her face on my cock. I didn't need any more encouragement, and before the next burst of applause could die down, I was exploding. I felt my cum shoot powerfully, and she pulled her head back, until just the head was buried between those carefully made-up lips. Her hand stroked my cock, milking out the shots. I felt her gag a bit, but gamely she continued, swallowing a load, while still taking all I had to give her. I don't know how much I came, put it was harder and longer than I could remember for ages. I don't come like a porn star, especially not at my age, but this hearkened back to when I was in my early twenties, at the peak of my game. When I finally pumped out the last, she squeezed out every drop she could with her hands, stroking me firmly from the base, up. Then she eased her pretty face off my cock. She smiled, and climbed into my lap. She leaned forward, and her face just inches from mine, she opened her mouth to show a small white puddle on her teasing, talented tongue. Her eyes sparkled, and she waited, obviously intent on the sound of the crowd. After a few seconds, to a sprinkle of applause, she closed her mouth, smiled and swallowed. Once the applause died down, she opened her mouth and showed me the moist emptiness. She leaned in and uttered one word, "Yummy." Then she took my face in her hands and kissed me deeply, her tongue exploring every inch of my mouth, while the taste of my own ejaculate was carved into my taste buds. When she was satisfied, she pulled her lips off mine. "Is there more?" she asked, giving a telling nod and glance down into our laps. "Absolutely," I told her firmly. I eased her out of my lap, and stood her up. I then stood and turned her around to sit in the seat I had just vacated. She scooted her rear right up to the edge of the chair, lifted her legs high, and pulled her knees back almost to her armpits, reaching her arms around, and pulling them in tight. She was wickedly exposed, and I could see her pussy really clearly for the first time. She had a bikini trim, waxed clean up to the top of her little clit that was peaking out at me. A soft, short fur grew upwards in a little triangle, the outsides of which were encompassed by a bright white bikini line, almost an inch of bare white flesh framing her blonde bush. Damn, the only true blonde in Dallas. At 45 years old, I've been eating bush for more than 30 years, and I put everything I knew into pleasuring this gift from God. I ate her until my lips and tongue grew numb, and I felt her come several times, filling my mouth with her liquid mana. With my neck and mouth aching, I finally pulled away from her, and felt that my own stiffness had returned, a delightful surprise. I usually take a good while to return to action. I wasn't as hard as I'd like, but easily hard enough to try for some more. I stood, my rampant cock proclaiming it's willingness, and squatting a bit awkwardly, I fed my cock into her. While I'd eaten her, her legs had rested on my shoulders much of the time, but once again she pulled them back, her calves against her ears. She was flexible, and looked incredible. Some gym, somewhere, was doing it's job admirably. I reached around her, grasping the top edges of the chair, and by spreading my legs and extending them, I found a position that was moderately comfortable. Pushing in firmly all the way to the root, I plumbed her depths with short, slow strokes, concentrating on the incredible feeling of fucking this total stranger. The intensity of the action was returning the steel to my rod, and it wasn't long before my staff was at full mast, and my stroked lengthened until I could pull all the way out, and re-enter without any help from a willing hand. We stank of sex, and I could smell it clearly. I wondered how far the smell reached. The screwing was noisy as well, a squishy sound, interrupted with the slapping of flesh on flesh. And my amazing blonde was no longer as quiet as she'd been, talking to me while I fucked her, in words that would have shocked her mother. But the cacophony of thousands of people, listening and responding to the heavily amplified words of Mr. Trump gave a great cover, and the heavy air conditioning, blowing cold on my back from the ceiling 30 feet above, seemed up to the task of keeping our illicit tryst under wraps. I fucked her harder and faster, my balls slapping against her ass, as I punished that stretched pussy which had responded so well to my ministrations so far. She came hard, with her ankles on my shoulders, and she grabbed my head, fists buried in my hair, and pulled my face down to hers, gasping, "fuck, fuck, fuck," as she stared almost frighteningly into my eyes. Her legs tightened up, and almost pushed me off of her. As she relaxed, she let go of my hair, and pushed on my chest, moving me away. "I've got to change position," she told me softly, then kissed me warmly before kneeling on the padded seat of the chair, and bending over the back of it. She looked back at me, and smiled. "Enjoy!" Damn. What a woman. It looked so good, I had to taste her again. I just licked her easily, then played with her ass a bit, sucking and tonguing her there, before I stood up and went for the gold. Her ass was the perfect height, and although it took a little work to get my meat back into her bright red pussy, the added friction of having her legs together was incredible. It started out as a long leisurely fuck, while I listened to the words of Trump for the first time in over an hour. I pumped her thoroughly, my entire length enjoying the full extent of her fleshy well. I grabbed her skirt, still hoisted around her waist, and used it for leverage, fucking her harder and harder until the chair started crawling across the floor. I got a perverse joy in fucking her about four feet across that space until her face was only about a foot from where the walls met at the end, and we could see through the gap. By shifting just a bit, we could see The Donald holding court at his podium. I licked my thumb and slowly worked it into her ass. She was tight, as I'd expected, but it was fun to watch my cock piercing her, and her little butt hole opening up to my ministrations. I was getting ready to come again, a pleasant surprise in itself, but I didn't know what to do. Should I finish in her? Pull out and come on her? I had to do something soon. I did the only sensible thing. I stopped and leaned forward, speaking into her ear, pretty loudly to overcome the noise of the crowd, as Donald had just announced he was ready to take questions, and a swarm of people started gathering into two lines to wait for a chance to beg of his knowledge. "I'm going to come soon," I told her, holding very still, to avoid coming right then and there, potentially in a very dangerous place. She wiggled her hips. "It's safe." It was all I needed. Before the first question was out of some busty woman's mouth, I was creaming my gorgeous blonde CEO's insides, squirting several times into her unbelievably accommodating pussy. Buried as deeply as possible, I stood shaking, squeezing the last of my juices out inside of her. I pulled out, my cock red and sore. I couldn't remember the last time I'd gone on that long fucking and sucking. I was suddenly very conscious of the fact that I'd fucked this total stranger without a condom, and was feeling worrisome about it. Of course it wasn't until after the fact that I showed even a modicum of sense about that. I retrieved our clothing from the floor, passing her the red panties (which would have looked silly on me) and put on my boxers and pants, over my sticky wet cock, before sitting on the chair and lacing on my shoes. I looked up and she was standing before me, with an enigmatic little smile twisting those sensuous, pleasure giving lips. I stood and she flowed into my arms for just a moment giving me a hug. "That was fantastic," she told me. "Oh no," I laughed loudly. "It was much better than that. I'm sorry if you missed anything The Donald said." She pulled my face down to hers and kissed me again. Tenderly this time. Then she pulled away. "I have to go back. I told Wallace I'd meet him at the back after Trump was done." I let go of her, giving her ass one last squeeze, then pushed the cloth divider out of the way. I made sure my VIP pass was facing forward, and walked back into the crush of moving people. I never bothered looking to see if there were any astonished faces glancing our way. My blonde bombshell walked past me back to our seats. She walked behind the seats, leaned over, giving me one last look at that incredible butt, easily her best feature, and grabbed her tote bag. Then she walked away, never looking back, while the audience continued to pepper Trump with questions. I don't know why she behaved as she did when I sat next to her. Leaning against me, touching me constantly, giving me sultry looks, and talking to me jokingly. I'll probably never know, now. It was something unlike anything I'd ever experienced, and it resulted in an encounter I'll never forget. By Tx Tall Tales for Literotica

Shagging a stranger while Trump talks success in politics & business. By Tx Tall Tales. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. I was a little delayed getting to the Convention Hall where he was going to speak, but my red VIP badge got me past the "velvet rope" down to the front 10 rows, which were looking pretty full. The hall was split up into a bunch of sections during the day, with low pipe & drape curtain panels used to separate the VIP purchase area from the hoi-poloi, and to make virtual rooms to one side and the other, as well as to create a backstage area. It was a business & leadership conference with speakers like Tony Robbins, Donald Trump, and a long list of others. One of the ushers waved me over, pointing to one of the few open seats left. I "excuse-me"d down to the spot, and wedged myself in between two attractive women, a blonde on my left and a brunette on my right. Because we were sitting in the rightmost section of the seats, the main podium was over to my left as well. As such you tended to sit turned in your seat a bit, for a more natural view, which placed the brunette "behind" me and the blonde in "front" of me. Now I'm not a little guy. Not huge, but my shoulders are a good bit wider than most. And at 220 lbs, I'm mostly muscle, though a good way from having 'abs of steel'. The biggest problem is I'm wide. W-I-D-E. Really wide in the shoulders with a 48 inch chest. My Hawaiian heritage. It makes for uncomfortable seating in coach-class on airplanes, and in places like this, where the chairs are locked together, and they're all made for 118 lb. weaklings, and little things, like the size 2 women on either side of me. A speaker was just finishing up, and when he went into pitch mode, I asked the blonde "How was he?" "I don't know, I just got here a minute ago too. I'm here for Trump." Let me get this out up front. I'm a horn-dog, with an addiction to women. I love blondes. "What are you here for? At the Motivational Expo, I mean," I asked her, surreptitiously taking in her pretty face, turned up nose, cute eyeglasses, and pinned up blonde hair. Her hands were free of any rings. "Mostly just hanging out," she told me. I thought it seemed kind of odd. It cost a couple of hundred bucks to 'hang-out' in the VIP section, less if you signed up early and were on the right mailing list. Maybe a $100. But still pricey for "hanging out." Even stranger was the way she was sitting. There was another pretty big black guy sitting on the other side of her, and he had all his materials from the day on the floor between his legs, forcing him to sit with his legs open. As soon as I sat down, she moved away from him, leaving a couple of inches gap, and scooted up right next to me, her side pressed against mine. Then she turned away and watched the stage. We were quiet for a bit, and I tried to start a conversation again. A glutton for punishment, I do this a lot. I like people. I like to talk to people. I guess I'm a bit of an extrovert sometimes. And in a setting like this, anybody could be a great networking contact. "What do you do?" I asked. She spoke softly, and I had to bend down to hear her. Damn, she smelled good too. "I own my own business, how about you?" she answered. "Some real-estate investment, some writing, a real-life job I wouldn't mind ditching. I'm thinking of getting into a gig like this - professional speaking." I told her. She patted me on the leg, a pretty friendly thing to do, I thought, then said, "Will you save my seat for me while I go take a smoke break?" "Absolutely. I wouldn't dream of letting anyone else sit next to me." I told her with my most charming boyish smile, which seldom works, but you can't fault a guy for trying. She patted me on the arm again, giving it a little squeeze, and then eased her way past me and out the row. She left her tote bag with all her materials, so I didn't think she was just blowing me off nicely. As she walked by, I took the time to check more of her out. Definitely a looker, with a light zip-up sweatshirt (unzipped) over a scoop-neck white tee, and a blue jean skirt that hugged her very pleasant looking hips. She had long slender legs that ended in ankle-high white socks and a pair of black canvas sneakers. Looked like Converse. I estimated her age in the early 20's. Yeah, I know, I'm a dirty old man, getting worked up over a girl 1/2 my age. Before I knew it, my blonde neighbor was returning. I sat back in my chair to let her by, and she sat back down, once again sidling right up next to me. I mean close contact. I have to tell you this was definitely new territory for me. I've known friendly women, and aggressive women, but this woman just seemed to like pressing against me. My mind was spinning trying to figure this out, it wasn't something in my known realm of experiences, and not to brag, but I have had my share. I had a choice of sitting with my arms crossed, and shoulders pulled in, or taking up half the seats on either side of me. But I could also turn a bit in the seat, and put my arm behind the seat to my side, which I did, especially easy since we were in the last VIP row, and there was an open space behind us with the barrier between us and the green-badgers. "Blondie" must have considered this some kind of invitation. She turned even more into me, and turned her head, resting it on my shoulder. She took several opportunities to pat me on the leg and arm again. I've read a few books on body behavior, and everything I know tells me this was a sign that I could be more forward, but I was still very hesitant. It seemed a spectacularly weird place to be hitting on a strange woman. But my little head was starting to wake up and do part of the thinking for me. The lights started to go down, implying the start of the next program. Blondie, whose name I still hadn't gotten, leaned forward to take off her sweat-jacket, revealing bare shoulders, and a nice pair of breasts, if on the smallish side. She patted me on the leg again, her hand lingering, and she gave a squeeze. "This should be good to hear," she admitted. She was turned a bit in her seat, facing the podium and leaning into me, fully half her weight pressed against me. I could smell the baby-powder she'd used early in the day, and the slight hint of where the long day of sitting in cramped quarters was finally winning the battle against her deodorant. The smell of her was getting me even hotter, it was going to be hard to pay attention to Trump. He'd better be good. I was able to look over her shoulder, and had a pretty good view into her shirt. I'm not a giant at 6'1", but I have a long torso, and when seated I tend to be a head above those around me. It gave for a great vantage point to look her over. Not a lot of cleavage, but I could clearly see her red bra, which had a big red flower, better than an inch across, right where the cup met the strap. The show helpers were walking down the aisle, passing out signs for us. These read "Trump for President", the ones that we got, at least. There were other ones being passed around, one said "You're FIRED", and there was at least one other one. My pretty blonde neighbor took out a marker and started writing on her sign. She wrote "Divorced" over TRUMP, and "Is So" between the words TRUMP and For. Then she wrote "Cool" between For and President. I wasn't sure what that message was. "He is divorced, right?" She asked me, again patting my leg. My leg was beginning to really like that, as my little head reminded me. "Twice. Ivana, and Marla Maples. He's married again since then." I told her. "I don't watch much TV." She said, putting down her pen, holding her sign in her lap, and resting her near hand on my knee. I was really confused. Was she just friendly? Was she coming on to me? What was going on? "She wants you," the little head told me, encouraging my addiction. "Don't be such a pussy!" She reached up to loosen her hair, and took the bun out. She started to twist it back up, and my little head spoke aloud for the first time, putting words in my mouth. "Leave your hair down," I told her softly. It's something that's worked for me before in the pursuit of females. I've found that if they're interested, they often like a bit of harmless dominance. You know, some silly little comment that you expect them to obey. If they do, you're often on your way to success. She hesitated, with both hands over her head, her hair half twisted, and an elastic in her other hand. She slowly let her hair back down, and dropped the elastic into her tote bag, then shook her hair out. At this point the president of the Learning Annex came on stage to announce that The Donald was in the building, and we started a chant of Trump, Trump, Trump, led by the show workers on stage, a bevy of about a dozen typical Dallas beauties, and a couple of guys. Donald Trump came on stage to lights and explosions, and thousands of gold foil rectangles burst out over the audience, and trickled down while Donald took his place at the podium. While the clapping continued the gold streamers fell among us, and one landed in her hair. I reached over and plucked it out, handing it to her, and then stroked her hair back into place. It didn't need the stroking, but I did. Unlike the other speakers who wanted you to stand through his whole bit, Trump told us all to sit. Then he started talking about how the show people knew how to "Feed his addiction", and he asked the guys to leave the stage, leaving all the pretty girls behind him. I immediately knew that The Donald and I were kindred souls, sharing that common addiction. Blondie was sitting leaning against me once more, her right arm casually laid across my left leg, her hand dangling between my legs, near my knees. My partner in crime between my legs was fully awake now, uncomfortably so, looking to stretch out. Donald was talking about the beautiful women of Dallas, getting lots of cheers from the audience, including from the girls beside me. He went on to say he hated makeup, but when the makeup girl here asked if he needed any, how could he say no? He then called her out on stage, and a gorgeous latino girl with the classic Plano, store bought breasts walked out on stage and he called her over, looking for a hug. Damn, I was jealous. The man had game. I'm sure a few Billion in the bank didn't hurt. Then he pointed out another pretty woman in the front row holding up his book. She stood up and he invited her on stage. I'd sat behind this girl the day before, a six foot tall Amazon, just graduated from college. She had long very blonde hair, and was a stunner. He kept her on stage, while she asked some silly self-serving question, and he commented again how beautiful our women were, and complained that he was being setup, everyone here know of his "addiction." Again he got laughs and cheers from the crowd. He kept her up there for a couple of minutes, hugged her and whispered to her (a hotel room number, maybe?), then she went off stage, but not back to her seat. "It's a good thing he can't see you." I told my blonde friend softly. "You'd never get off stage." She giggled and turned her face a bit to me. "You think so?" I looked down at her open neck, and saw one of the gold streamers had fallen against her skin. Not quite in her cleavage, but under her neck. I reached forward, brazenly, and slowly lifted it free, letting the heal of my hand rest on her breast for just a moment. I held out the piece of gold foil for her, which she took in her left hand, her other still lying comfortable across my leg. She dropped it in her tote bag. "Absolutely," I told her. The lights were down, and Donald was starting to tell his stories. They were pretty interesting, giving us a little of his history. My new found fantasy was still leaning into me, comfortably with her head on my shoulder. Her hand on my leg was idly drawing little circles on my inside thigh, just above my knee, and I was uncomfortably hard. I was turned, my arm behind the seats, just hanging down. I brought it up to rest on the back of her chair, my hand softly touching her bare shoulder. She didn't flinch or turn away. Donald was talking politics a bit and mentioned getting in trouble for using Condi Rice and "bitch" in the same sentence. He went on to talk about how he wasn't calling her a bitch, just the opposite. He wanted a hard-boiled negotiator, someone who looked polished and professional but could be a bitch when needed. He didn't think that Condi had it in her. When he talked about professional appearance, he pointed out the suits that many were wearing, and the professional looking women down in front. My little head took completely over again. I reached across and my fingers, with almost a life of their own, slipped into the edge of her shirt, giving a little tug on her bright red bra, underneath her demure white shirt. I held the red rose in my fingers, and teased her. "Professional dress?" "Bitch in the boardroom, devil in the bedroom," she answered, giving my leg a squeeze. I tucked the bra-strap away, letting my thumb graze her cleavage, expecting to get shot down any moment. Instead her hand slid half-way up my leg, only a couple of inches away from the jackpot. Donald started into his diatribe against that "awful ugly creature, the ugliest thing on TV, physically and mentally," none other then Rosie. "She could never have come from Dallas." In the meantime my blood was boiling. I opened my legs a hair, pressing against hers, and I let my arm far arm cross hers in my lap, applying light pressure to get her to slide up further on my leg. I was holding the sign we'd been given, effectively hiding my lap, and her hand slowly gave under the slight pressure, easing up my leg, until her hand was resting against my balls, and my hard-on pressing against her wrist. "You're enjoying the show," she said softly, without turning her head. Then she gave her hand a little twist and cupped my balls, giving a gentle squeeze. I slid my hand on the back of the seat under her hair, cupping her neck, and massaging gently. I couldn't resist this amazing vixen. I leaned in, right to her ear. "I've got to have you. It's killing me." She turned to look at me. "I really wanted to hear Donald," she said, but her hand stroked my hardness. I reached down and took her hand off my crotch, (blasphemy!), and stood, her hand in mine. I pulled her to her feet. "You'll hear him." Then I walked out of that row, glad that I was wearing an untucked Hawaiian shirt, which partially hid my state. She followed along, her hand moist in mine. My mind was running a mile a minute. I thought I had a great chance to do something with this girl, but where? How? I looked over the area we were in, debated trying to get behind the large ‘pipe & drape' curtains that separated the stage and the area behind it from the rest of the room. The main entrance was filled almost to capacity with people standing and watching. However the opposite end of the hall from the main entrance was in complete dark. It had been used as part of the registration from some of the classes, and was now shut down, with a rope preventing the back, general admission area from passing through. However on the VIP side of the ropes, there was a space to enter that area. And I decided to give it a shot. All this ran through my mind during the few seconds it took to scoot past the half-dozen people in our row. I walked confidently past the workers, all eyes on Trump, and out of the immediate Keynote area, past the pipe& drape partitions, into a large dark space, somewhat broken up by tables and barriers. I gave the beautiful target of my lust a little tug past me, then turned, moved a folding chair further into the area, I looked the space over. Now we were in a closed section, almost a long narrow room. On one side, away from Donald was a large dark open space, empty now. On the other side, maybe 5 feet from the pipe & drape' was the end of the chairs in the back of the Keynote hall. Thousands of people listening to Trump, hundreds of them cheering and clapping just a couple of yards away from us. My heart was pounding. My crotch was aching, and I could barely believe the audacity I had displayed in bringing this complete stranger into this semi-private space. She stood there waiting just a couple of feet from the lone chair. I approached her. I took her by the shoulders and turned her to face the stage, hidden from us. I stood behind her and whispered, "Can you hear him ok?" "Just fine," she answered, huskily, leaning back into me. I let my hands slide down her arms then reached around and took her breasts in my hands, cupping them, squeezing softly. I leaned in and kissed her neck, working up to her ear, where I nibbled on her ear lobe, my lips pressing against her two stud earrings. Her hands slid behind her back, and met at my crotch, rubbing me, while her head tilted to one side, giving me better access. I kissed and nuzzled her neck and chin, then slid around her, regretfully moving away from her hands. I stood in front of her, tilted her chin up, and kissed her. The crowd burst into cheers and I got goose bumps. She kissed me desperately, fiercely, her arms wrapping around me. I let my hands drop down to her firm, round ass, and pulled her hard against me. She ground her crotch against mine, while our tongues tangled. I had to break free eventually. As sweet as she was to kiss, I needed more. Much more. I pulled the chair around, facing away from us, and put her hands on the back of it, with her still facing the stage. I slid around her, my hands wandering all over her body, and then when I was directly behind her, I slid my hands down her thighs, and slowly brought them upwards. I lifted her tight skirt higher and higher, encountering a little resistance as they cleared the fullest part of her butt, exposing red bikini underwear, an obvious match to her bra. Her skirt was bunched up around her waist, and I leaned into her, again nuzzling her neck, while my hands caressed below her waist, first through the lacy red cloth, and then sliding inside, exploring her soft flesh. She was bent over just a bit, so she could hold onto the back of that chair, pushing her ass back towards me. I backed away, dropping to my knees, and slowly slid her underwear down her legs, kissing that sweet, white ass. This was a big deal. I thought I noticed some reluctance from her, and she trembled a bit, but seemed to settle down. This was really happening! She had a bit of a tan, not heavy, and her tan line was an irresistible attraction. I traced it with my tongue, from the outside of her hip across her ass, and down between her legs. She stepped out of her underwear, then opened her legs wider, bending low, resting her hands on the seat of the chair. It gave me greater access, and I continued the tongue bath, between her cheeks, past the cute little pucker of her ass, until my tongue could just curl up a bit and enter the bottom of her wet pussy. Her smell was strong, and devastating, and I grabbed her cheeks, spread them wider and licked and sucked her bare nether-lips tasting this stranger, and enjoying the action immensely. I had her trembling. Driving my tongue as far into her as possible, I tongue-fucked her repeatedly, while massaging her ass cheeks. Then I replaced my tongue with my finger, reaching inside her, rubbing the silken inner walls. One finger slowly became two, while I kissed and nibbled on her smooth butt cheeks. A third finger entered her, the going tight now, and my other hand pulled her ass cheek to the side so I could lick her moist bunghole. Her right hand slid back, and pulled her other cheek wide, opening herself up for me. While my fingers slid in and out of her steaming hole, my teasing tongue worried her rear, pushing at that brown puckered hole, until I could just work it's way in a bit, curling it and pushing hard, my tongue tip sliding into her ass repeatedly. While I familiarized myself with her sweet (and tangy) privates, the talk continued, and rounds of clapping and cheering just egged me on. I could feel her legs trembling, and then her butthole squeezed tight on my tongue and her pussy clamped down on my fingers, milking them in waves, while her juices flowed freely down my palm and the back of my hand. I wiggled my fingers inside her, until she loosened up a bit, and then I turned my hand, so my fingers could face forward. I removed one finger, and then pressed forward hard, searching for her G-spot while my thumb reached forward sliding through the sparse hair to find it's way onto her love button. I rubbed firmly and as she responded, pushing against my hand, I drove my tongue into her ass as far as I could, wiggling my chin as I went, and working a good inch or so into her. This time she almost collapsed, her knees buckling, and pulling her ass off my tongue. She gasped, but the sound was a whisper compared to the heavily amplified voice of The Donald regaling us with how he liked losers, because they made him feel so good. My hand was soaked in her juices which ran freely down the inside of her thighs. I leaned in between her legs, and licked her clean, up both thighs. I finally released her pussy, and stood back, looking at this pretty blonde stranger, bent over in front of me, her ass looking delicious, and the red swollen lips of her pussy calling out their siren song. I unbuckled my belt and slid my pants down, taking my boxers with them. I lowered them enough to free myself, my rock hard mast pointing towards it's desired goal. She never turned around to look at me, instead just waiting, hips thrust out. Shaft in hand, I shuffled towards her again, and slid the head of my cock between her lips, and with a nudge of my hips, pushed the head just inside of her. I was in heaven. Still holding onto my rod, I rubbed the head in and out, all over her swollen pussy, occasionally pushing an inch or so inside of her, but never really entering her completely. She started pushing back at me when I would get the head inside her steamy opening, and I finally fulfilled both our wishes, pushing my cock inexorably inside of her until I was buried to the hilt. I reached around her, inside of her shirt, and started playing with her breasts. My exploring fingers discovered a front latch and I popped it, allowing my hands unfettered access to her sweet little breasts, not much more than a handful, with hard little nipples that spoke volumes for her aroused state. My hips started in, slowly fucking her, while my hands played with her breasts, tugging on those unseen nipples. I was about as big and hard as I get. I'm not huge, but a bit above average in length, and very thick. Sometimes it takes a bit of work to get my full length buried inside some tight young twat, but this pretty blonde had no trouble accommodating my full length and thickness. I let go of her breasts and grabbed her hips, fucking her harder, giving long, full strokes that she eagerly accepted and pushed back against. I was feeling incredible, hard and ready, enjoying the sensation of being buried in this hot little tart, yet feeling no urgent compulsion to come. My legs were tiring a bit, having to stay bent a bit to work her over, and contained in my half dropped pants. I imagined hers were getting a bit tired as well. Between the oral attention and the protracted fucking, she'd probably been bent over, on her feet for more than 20 minutes. But The Donald was scheduled to speak for an hour and a half, and he was just warming up, as was I. I pulled out of her, and hitching my pants up with one hand, I walked in front of her. I stood her up, and kissed her again, pulling her naked crotch against mine. Then I turned the chair around and sat on it, facing her, my pants dropping to my ankles. I leaned back, holding my cock upright, and waited for her. She gave me a look, almost as if she was going to call me on my brazenness. With a devilish smile she stepped forward and straddled me, slowly lowering herself onto my ready pole. She reached down and opened herself up, spreading her lips and once I was positioned just right, sliding down my length. God, it felt good. I put my trust into the sturdiness of the heavy duty folding chair, and used my hands to lift her ass up and down, slowly screwing her with about half my length. She leaned in and started kissing me again, all over my face and neck, then covering my mouth with hers. We stopped moving, our bodies merged, and our lips and tongues explored each other's mouths for an eternity, while Trump talked about seizing opportunities. I would have made him proud. I lost myself in that kiss, and slowly coming out of it found her rocking up and down on my cock, tugging at it with her pussy, her muscles down there teasing me, squeezing me, begging me to give her more. My young blonde entrepreneur stood up, and then knelt before me and lowered her face to my lap. I spread my legs invitingly, while looking down at the ground. I was glad we were on a carpeted runner. Purely selfish reasons. I knew it would be more comfortable on her knees, meaning this might last more than just a few seconds. I needn't have worried. She was teasing in her oral, caressing, kissing, licking, blowing softly, but avoiding taking me into her mouth. She was a consummate tease. She must have spent five minutes at this before she rose up high on her knees, placed her mouth directly above me, and slowly pushed down, her mouth spread wide, as she took the better part of my hard-on into her mouth. She had a small mouth, and my thickness filled her. She looked so sexy, her head slowly bobbing up and down, while her hand's index finger and thumb created a ring half-way around my shaft, stroking me in counterpoint to her lips. She was still wearing her rectangular 'Lennon' type glasses, and she peered at me over the top of them. I was tensing up. This was feeling, and looking, too good. I could feel a load building up in my balls, begging for release. My seminar goddess slowly, teasingly, pulled her head off my cock. She kept stroking me, using all her fingers, and moving a little faster. She straightened up and pulled my face forward to hers. She kissed me, sweetly this time, lovingly. Then she leaned in and whispered to me, but I couldn't hear it for the noise, which had just exploded in response to some comment of Trumps. I gave her a quizzical look and she smiled. "Come in my mouth," she said louder this time, smiling for me. Taking my astounded look for consent, she went back to blowing me, sucking me aggressively, fucking her face on my cock. I didn't need any more encouragement, and before the next burst of applause could die down, I was exploding. I felt my cum shoot powerfully, and she pulled her head back, until just the head was buried between those carefully made-up lips. Her hand stroked my cock, milking out the shots. I felt her gag a bit, but gamely she continued, swallowing a load, while still taking all I had to give her. I don't know how much I came, put it was harder and longer than I could remember for ages. I don't come like a porn star, especially not at my age, but this hearkened back to when I was in my early twenties, at the peak of my game. When I finally pumped out the last, she squeezed out every drop she could with her hands, stroking me firmly from the base, up. Then she eased her pretty face off my cock. She smiled, and climbed into my lap. She leaned forward, and her face just inches from mine, she opened her mouth to show a small white puddle on her teasing, talented tongue. Her eyes sparkled, and she waited, obviously intent on the sound of the crowd. After a few seconds, to a sprinkle of applause, she closed her mouth, smiled and swallowed. Once the applause died down, she opened her mouth and showed me the moist emptiness. She leaned in and uttered one word, "Yummy." Then she took my face in her hands and kissed me deeply, her tongue exploring every inch of my mouth, while the taste of my own ejaculate was carved into my taste buds. When she was satisfied, she pulled her lips off mine. "Is there more?" she asked, giving a telling nod and glance down into our laps. "Absolutely," I told her firmly. I eased her out of my lap, and stood her up. I then stood and turned her around to sit in the seat I had just vacated. She scooted her rear right up to the edge of the chair, lifted her legs high, and pulled her knees back almost to her armpits, reaching her arms around, and pulling them in tight. She was wickedly exposed, and I could see her pussy really clearly for the first time. She had a bikini trim, waxed clean up to the top of her little clit that was peaking out at me. A soft, short fur grew upwards in a little triangle, the outsides of which were encompassed by a bright white bikini line, almost an inch of bare white flesh framing her blonde bush. Damn, the only true blonde in Dallas. At 45 years old, I've been eating bush for more than 30 years, and I put everything I knew into pleasuring this gift from God. I ate her until my lips and tongue grew numb, and I felt her come several times, filling my mouth with her liquid mana. With my neck and mouth aching, I finally pulled away from her, and felt that my own stiffness had returned, a delightful surprise. I usually take a good while to return to action. I wasn't as hard as I'd like, but easily hard enough to try for some more. I stood, my rampant cock proclaiming it's willingness, and squatting a bit awkwardly, I fed my cock into her. While I'd eaten her, her legs had rested on my shoulders much of the time, but once again she pulled them back, her calves against her ears. She was flexible, and looked incredible. Some gym, somewhere, was doing it's job admirably. I reached around her, grasping the top edges of the chair, and by spreading my legs and extending them, I found a position that was moderately comfortable. Pushing in firmly all the way to the root, I plumbed her depths with short, slow strokes, concentrating on the incredible feeling of fucking this total stranger. The intensity of the action was returning the steel to my rod, and it wasn't long before my staff was at full mast, and my stroked lengthened until I could pull all the way out, and re-enter without any help from a willing hand. We stank of sex, and I could smell it clearly. I wondered how far the smell reached. The screwing was noisy as well, a squishy sound, interrupted with the slapping of flesh on flesh. And my amazing blonde was no longer as quiet as she'd been, talking to me while I fucked her, in words that would have shocked her mother. But the cacophony of thousands of people, listening and responding to the heavily amplified words of Mr. Trump gave a great cover, and the heavy air conditioning, blowing cold on my back from the ceiling 30 feet above, seemed up to the task of keeping our illicit tryst under wraps. I fucked her harder and faster, my balls slapping against her ass, as I punished that stretched pussy which had responded so well to my ministrations so far. She came hard, with her ankles on my shoulders, and she grabbed my head, fists buried in my hair, and pulled my face down to hers, gasping, "fuck, fuck, fuck," as she stared almost frighteningly into my eyes. Her legs tightened up, and almost pushed me off of her. As she relaxed, she let go of my hair, and pushed on my chest, moving me away. "I've got to change position," she told me softly, then kissed me warmly before kneeling on the padded seat of the chair, and bending over the back of it. She looked back at me, and smiled. "Enjoy!" Damn. What a woman. It looked so good, I had to taste her again. I just licked her easily, then played with her ass a bit, sucking and tonguing her there, before I stood up and went for the gold. Her ass was the perfect height, and although it took a little work to get my meat back into her bright red pussy, the added friction of having her legs together was incredible. It started out as a long leisurely fuck, while I listened to the words of Trump for the first time in over an hour. I pumped her thoroughly, my entire length enjoying the full extent of her fleshy well. I grabbed her skirt, still hoisted around her waist, and used it for leverage, fucking her harder and harder until the chair started crawling across the floor. I got a perverse joy in fucking her about four feet across that space until her face was only about a foot from where the walls met at the end, and we could see through the gap. By shifting just a bit, we could see The Donald holding court at his podium. I licked my thumb and slowly worked it into her ass. She was tight, as I'd expected, but it was fun to watch my cock piercing her, and her little butt hole opening up to my ministrations. I was getting ready to come again, a pleasant surprise in itself, but I didn't know what to do. Should I finish in her? Pull out and come on her? I had to do something soon. I did the only sensible thing. I stopped and leaned forward, speaking into her ear, pretty loudly to overcome the noise of the crowd, as Donald had just announced he was ready to take questions, and a swarm of people started gathering into two lines to wait for a chance to beg of his knowledge. "I'm going to come soon," I told her, holding very still, to avoid coming right then and there, potentially in a very dangerous place. She wiggled her hips. "It's safe." It was all I needed. Before the first question was out of some busty woman's mouth, I was creaming my gorgeous blonde CEO's insides, squirting several times into her unbelievably accommodating pussy. Buried as deeply as possible, I stood shaking, squeezing the last of my juices out inside of her. I pulled out, my cock red and sore. I couldn't remember the last time I'd gone on that long fucking and sucking. I was suddenly very conscious of the fact that I'd fucked this total stranger without a condom, and was feeling worrisome about it. Of course it wasn't until after the fact that I showed even a modicum of sense about that. I retrieved our clothing from the floor, passing her the red panties (which would have looked silly on me) and put on my boxers and pants, over my sticky wet cock, before sitting on the chair and lacing on my shoes. I looked up and she was standing before me, with an enigmatic little smile twisting those sensuous, pleasure giving lips. I stood and she flowed into my arms for just a moment giving me a hug. "That was fantastic," she told me. "Oh no," I laughed loudly. "It was much better than that. I'm sorry if you missed anything The Donald said." She pulled my face down to hers and kissed me again. Tenderly this time. Then she pulled away. "I have to go back. I told Wallace I'd meet him at the back after Trump was done." I let go of her, giving her ass one last squeeze, then pushed the cloth divider out of the way. I made sure my VIP pass was facing forward, and walked back into the crush of moving people. I never bothered looking to see if there were any astonished faces glancing our way. My blonde bombshell walked past me back to our seats. She walked behind the seats, leaned over, giving me one last look at that incredible butt, easily her best feature, and grabbed her tote bag. Then she walked away, never looking back, while the audience continued to pepper Trump with questions. I don't know why she behaved as she did when I sat next to her. Leaning against me, touching me constantly, giving me sultry looks, and talking to me jokingly. I'll probably never know, now. It was something unlike anything I'd ever experienced, and it resulted in an encounter I'll never forget. By Tx Tall Tales for Literotica

In APV's latest podcast, we connected with Jennie Wasserman (producer at NJPAC) and spoken word poet Myster-E (AKA Eric Shandroff) to chat all about North To Shore's Asbury Park Showcase event. This special performance takes place at the Grand Arcade in historic Convention Hall on Friday, June 14th starting at 3:30pm. The show will feature local musicians and spoken word poets – all who were selected through a competitive application process by Asbury Park arts and culture leaders to represent the city in this free, public performance for the North to Shore Festival.Jennie took us “behind the scenes” by talking all about her work within NJPAC and how she's using her experience and knowledge to assist with the North To Shore Festival. Eric fascinated us by sharing his unique background in the world of edutainment and the many ways he works to educate and entertain children. As you come to the end of our podcast you will be wowed by Myster-E's amazing performance of poetry and hip-hop in his original piece, “Sub.”Make sure you catch Myster-E and many other local artists in North To Shore's Asbury Park Festival Showcase on June 14th!Performance Schedule:3:30pm – Johnny Nameless4:30pm – Myster-E Edutainment5:30pm – Joe Miller, Mike Montrey Band, Dave Vargo7pm – Jake Thistle8pm – Space and the Goodstock Jamband9:15pm – The Mercury Brothers10:30pm – Des and the Swagmatics  Asbury Park Vibes Podcast Available on Spotify, Apple, Google, iHeart, Audible, and PandoraHosted by Diane DiMemmo & Doug DresherCopyright 2020-2024 Asbury Park Vibes. All rights reserved.

Avec Tom Waits, Jackson Browne, Blondie et T. Rex. Un piano peut être saoul, c'est l'idée de Tom Waits dans "The Piano Has Been Drinkin" en 1976, extrait de l'album "Small Change", inspiré par les performances de l'artiste au Ronnie Scott's Club de Soho, à Londres. Sorti en 2008, "The Drums of War" de Jackson Browne exprime le désespoir face à l'injustice des conflits politique (gouvernement américain, invasion de l'Irak en 2004, contestation). "Bang a Gong (Get It On)" est l'un des morceaux les plus emblématiques de T. Rex, Marc Bolan parle d'une image sexuelle. Blondie a repris ce titre sur scène lors d'un concert au Convention Hall d'Asbury Park dans le New Jersey. --- Du lundi au vendredi, Fanny Gillard et Laurent Rieppi vous dévoilent l'univers rock, au travers de thèmes comme ceux de l'éducation, des rockers en prison, les objets de la culture rock, les groupes familiaux et leurs déboires, et bien d'autres, chaque matin dans Coffee on the Rocks à 6h30 et rediffusion à 13h30 dans Lunch Around The Clock. Merci pour votre écoute Pour écouter Classic 21 à tout moment : www.rtbf.be/classic21 Retrouvez tous les contenus de la RTBF sur notre plateforme Auvio.be Et si vous avez apprécié ce podcast, n'hésitez pas à nous donner des étoiles ou des commentaires, cela nous aide à le faire connaître plus largement.

This week we discuss what an empath is and what are the different clair abilities. Our haunted location of the week features discussion on Convention Hall in Asbury Park, New Jersey. Stay tuned for more episodes which release every other Friday! Thank you for listening! Ash My linktree Cliff Notes: Books:  The Echo of Old Books by Barbara Davis The Gift by Echo Bodine Embrace your Empathy by Kristy Robinett Tests: https://www.jessicapaschke.com/clair-quiz Podcast: Awakened Empaths & Psychic Teachers My email: ghostiegirlz@gmail.com Resources: Venkat, S.R. “What is an Empath” Web MD. November 09, 2022 https://www.webmd.com/balance/what-is-an-empath

Getting Lucky At A Trump ConventionShagging a stranger while Trump talks success in politics & business.By Tx Tall Tales. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.I was a little delayed getting to the Convention Hall where he was going to speak, but my red VIP badge got me past the “velvet rope” down to the front 10 rows, which were looking pretty full. The hall was split up into a bunch of sections during the day, with low pipe & drape curtain panels used to separate the VIP purchase area from the hoi-poloi, and to make virtual rooms to one side and the other, as well as to create a backstage area. It was a business & leadership conference with speakers like Tony Robbins, Donald Trump, and a long list of others.One of the ushers waved me over, pointing to one of the few open seats left. I “excuse-me"d down to the spot, and wedged myself in between two attractive women, a blonde on my left and a brunette on my right. Because we were sitting in the rightmost section of the seats, the main podium was over to my left as well. As such you tended to sit turned in your seat a bit, for a more natural view, which placed the brunette “behind” me and the blonde in “front” of me.Now I'm not a little guy. Not huge, but my shoulders are a good bit wider than most. And at 220 lbs, I'm mostly muscle, though a good way from having ‘abs of steel'. The biggest problem is I'm wide. W-I-D-E. Really wide in the shoulders with a 48 inch chest. My Hawaiian heritage. It makes for uncomfortable seating in coach-class on airplanes, and in places like this, where the chairs are locked together, and they're all made for 118 lb. weaklings, and little things, like the size 2 women on either side of me.A speaker was just finishing up, and when he went into pitch mode, I asked the blonde “How was he?”“I don't know, I just got here a minute ago too. I'm here for Trump.”Let me get this out up front. I'm a horn-dog, with an addiction to women. I love blondes.“What are you here for? At the Motivational Expo, I mean,” I asked her, surreptitiously taking in her pretty face, turned up nose, cute eyeglasses, and pinned up blonde hair. Her hands were free of any rings.“Mostly just hanging out,” she told me.I thought it seemed kind of odd. It cost a couple of hundred bucks to ‘hang-out' in the VIP section, less if you signed up early and were on the right mailing list. Maybe a $100. But still pricey for “hanging out.”Even stranger was the way she was sitting. There was another pretty big black guy sitting on the other side of her, and he had all his materials from the day on the floor between his legs, forcing him to sit with his legs open. As soon as I sat down, she moved away from him, leaving a couple of inches gap, and scooted up right next to me, her side pressed against mine. Then she turned away and watched the stage.We were quiet for a bit, and I tried to start a conversation again. A glutton for punishment, I do this a lot. I like people. I like to talk to people. I guess I'm a bit of an extrovert sometimes. And in a setting like this, anybody could be a great networking contact.“What do you do?” I asked.She spoke softly, and I had to bend down to hear her. Damn, she smelled good too. “I own my own business, how about you?” she answered.“Some real-estate investment, some writing, a real-life job I wouldn't mind ditching. I'm thinking of getting into a gig like this - professional speaking.” I told her.She patted me on the leg, a pretty friendly thing to do, I thought, then said, “Will you save my seat for me while I go take a smoke break?”“Absolutely. I wouldn't dream of letting anyone else sit next to me.” I told her with my most charming boyish smile, which seldom works, but you can't fault a guy for trying.She patted me on the arm again, giving it a little squeeze, and then eased her way past me and out the row. She left her tote bag with all her materials, so I didn't think she was just blowing me off nicely.As she walked by, I took the time to check more of her out. Definitely a looker, with a light zip-up sweatshirt (unzipped) over a scoop-neck white tee, and a blue jean skirt that hugged her very pleasant looking hips. She had long slender legs that ended in ankle-high white socks and a pair of black canvas sneakers. Looked like Converse. I estimated her age in the early 20's. Yeah, I know, I'm a dirty old man, getting worked up over a girl ½ my age.Before I knew it, my blonde neighbor was returning. I sat back in my chair to let her by, and she sat back down, once again sidling right up next to me. I mean close contact.I have to tell you this was definitely new territory for me. I've known friendly women, and aggressive women, but this woman just seemed to like pressing against me. My mind was spinning trying to figure this out, it wasn't something in my known realm of experiences, and not to brag, but I have had my share.I had a choice of sitting with my arms crossed, and shoulders pulled in, or taking up half the seats on either side of me. But I could also turn a bit in the seat, and put my arm behind the seat to my side, which I did, especially easy since we were in the last VIP row, and there was an open space behind us with the barrier between us and the green-badgers.“Blondie” must have considered this some kind of invitation. She turned even more into me, and turned her head, resting it on my shoulder. She took several opportunities to pat me on the leg and arm again. I've read a few books on body behavior, and everything I know tells me this was a sign that I could be more forward, but I was still very hesitant. It seemed a spectacularly weird place to be hitting on a strange woman. But my little head was starting to wake up and do part of the thinking for me.The lights started to go down, implying the start of the next program. Blondie, whose name I still hadn't gotten, leaned forward to take off her sweat-jacket, revealing bare shoulders, and a nice pair of breasts, if on the smallish side. She patted me on the leg again, her hand lingering, and she gave a squeeze.“This should be good to hear,” she admitted. She was turned a bit in her seat, facing the podium and leaning into me, fully half her weight pressed against me. I could smell the baby-powder she'd used early in the day, and the slight hint of where the long day of sitting in cramped quarters was finally winning the battle against her deodorant. The smell of her was getting me even hotter, it was going to be hard to pay attention to Trump. He'd better be good.I was able to look over her shoulder, and had a pretty good view into her shirt. I'm not a giant at 6'1”, but I have a long torso, and when seated I tend to be a head above those around me. It gave for a great vantage point to look her over. Not a lot of cleavage, but I could clearly see her red bra, which had a big red flower, better than an inch across, right where the cup met the strap.The show helpers were walking down the aisle, passing out signs for us. These read “Trump for President”, the ones that we got, at least. There were other ones being passed around, one said “You're FIRED”, and there was at least one other one.My pretty blonde neighbor took out a marker and started writing on her sign. She wrote “Divorced” over TRUMP, and “Is So” between the words TRUMP and For. Then she wrote “Cool” between For and President. I wasn't sure what that message was.“He is divorced, right?” She asked me, again patting my leg. My leg was beginning to really like that, as my little head reminded me.“Twice. Ivana, and Marla Maples. He's married again since then.” I told her.“I don't watch much TV.” She said, putting down her pen, holding her sign in her lap, and resting her near hand on my knee.I was really confused. Was she just friendly? Was she coming on to me? What was going on? “She wants you,” the little head told me, encouraging my addiction. “Don't be such a pussy!”She reached up to loosen her hair, and took the bun out. She started to twist it back up, and my little head spoke aloud for the first time, putting words in my mouth. “Leave your hair down,” I told her softly. It's something that's worked for me before in the pursuit of females. I've found that if they're interested, they often like a bit of harmless dominance. You know, some silly little comment that you expect them to obey. If they do, you're often on your way to success.She hesitated, with both hands over her head, her hair half twisted, and an elastic in her other hand. She slowly let her hair back down, and dropped the elastic into her tote bag, then shook her hair out.At this point the president of the Learning Annex came on stage to announce that The Donald was in the building, and we started a chant of Trump, Trump, Trump, led by the show workers on stage, a bevy of about a dozen typical Dallas beauties, and a couple of guys.Donald Trump came on stage to lights and explosions, and thousands of gold foil rectangles burst out over the audience, and trickled down while Donald took his place at the podium. While the clapping continued the gold streamers fell among us, and one landed in her hair. I reached over and plucked it out, handing it to her, and then stroked her hair back into place. It didn't need the stroking, but I did.Unlike the other speakers who wanted you to stand through his whole bit, Trump told us all to sit. Then he started talking about how the show people knew how to “Feed his addiction”, and he asked the guys to leave the stage, leaving all the pretty girls behind him. I immediately knew that The Donald and I were kindred souls, sharing that common addiction.Blondie was sitting leaning against me once more, her right arm casually laid across my left leg, her hand dangling between my legs, near my knees. My partner in crime between my legs was fully awake now, uncomfortably so, looking to stretch out.Donald was talking about the beautiful women of Dallas, getting lots of cheers from the audience, including from the girls beside me. He went on to say he hated makeup, but when the makeup girl here asked if he needed any, how could he say no? He then called her out on stage, and a gorgeous latino girl with the classic Plano, store bought breasts walked out on stage and he called her over, looking for a hug. Damn, I was jealous. The man had game. I'm sure a few Billion in the bank didn't hurt.Then he pointed out another pretty woman in the front row holding up his book. She stood up and he invited her on stage. I'd sat behind this girl the day before, a six foot tall Amazon, just graduated from college. She had long very blonde hair, and was a stunner. He kept her on stage, while she asked some silly self-serving question, and he commented again how beautiful our women were, and complained that he was being setup, everyone here know of his “addiction.” Again he got laughs and cheers from the crowd. He kept her up there for a couple of minutes, hugged her and whispered to her (a hotel room number, maybe?), then she went off stage, but not back to her seat.“It's a good thing he can't see you.” I told my blonde friend softly. “You'd never get off stage.”She giggled and turned her face a bit to me. “You think so?”I looked down at her open neck, and saw one of the gold streamers had fallen against her skin. Not quite in her cleavage, but under her neck. I reached forward, brazenly, and slowly lifted it free, letting the heal of my hand rest on her breast for just a moment. I held out the piece of gold foil for her, which she took in her left hand, her other still lying comfortable across my leg. She dropped it in her tote bag.“Absolutely,” I told her.The lights were down, and Donald was starting to tell his stories. They were pretty interesting, giving us a little of his history. My new found fantasy was still leaning into me, comfortably with her head on my shoulder. Her hand on my leg was idly drawing little circles on my inside thigh, just above my knee, and I was uncomfortably hard. I was turned, my arm behind the seats, just hanging down. I brought it up to rest on the back of her chair, my hand softly touching her bare shoulder. She didn't flinch or turn away.Donald was talking politics a bit and mentioned getting in trouble for using Condi Rice and “bitch” in the same sentence. He went on to talk about how he wasn't calling her a bitch, just the opposite. He wanted a hard-boiled negotiator, someone who looked polished and professional but could be a bitch when needed. He didn't think that Condi had it in her. When he talked about professional appearance, he pointed out the suits that many were wearing, and the professional looking women down in front.My little head took completely over again. I reached across and my fingers, with almost a life of their own, slipped into the edge of her shirt, giving a little tug on her bright red bra, underneath her demure white shirt. I held the red rose in my fingers, and teased her. “Professional dress?”“Bitch in the boardroom, devil in the bedroom,” she answered, giving my leg a squeeze.I tucked the bra-strap away, letting my thumb graze her cleavage, expecting to get shot down any moment. Instead her hand slid half-way up my leg, only a couple of inches away from the jackpot.Donald started into his diatribe against that “awful ugly creature, the ugliest thing on TV, physically and mentally,” none other then Rosie. “She could never have come from Dallas.” In the meantime my blood was boiling. I opened my legs a hair, pressing against hers, and I let my arm far arm cross hers in my lap, applying light pressure to get her to slide up further on my leg. I was holding the sign we'd been given, effectively hiding my lap, and her hand slowly gave under the slight pressure, easing up my leg, until her hand was resting against my balls, and my hard-on pressing against her wrist.“You're enjoying the show,” she said softly, without turning her head. Then she gave her hand a little twist and cupped my balls, giving a gentle squeeze.I slid my hand on the back of the seat under her hair, cupping her neck, and massaging gently. I couldn't resist this amazing vixen.I leaned in, right to her ear. “I've got to have you. It's killing me.”She turned to look at me. “I really wanted to hear Donald,” she said, but her hand stroked my hardness.I reached down and took her hand off my crotch, (blasphemy!), and stood, her hand in mine. I pulled her to her feet. “You'll hear him.” Then I walked out of that row, glad that I was wearing an untucked Hawaiian shirt, which partially hid my state. She followed along, her hand moist in mine.My mind was running a mile a minute. I thought I had a great chance to do something with this girl, but where? How? I looked over the area we were in, debated trying to get behind the large ‘pipe & drape' curtains that separated the stage and the area behind it from the rest of the room. The main entrance was filled almost to capacity with people standing and watching. However the opposite end of the hall from the main entrance was in complete dark. It had been used as part of the registration from some of the classes, and was now shut down, with a rope preventing the back, general admission area from passing through. However on the VIP side of the ropes, there was a space to enter that area. And I decided to give it a shot. All this ran through my mind during the few seconds it took to scoot past the half-dozen people in our row.I walked confidently past the workers, all eyes on Trump, and out of the immediate Keynote area, past the pipe& drape partitions, into a large dark space, somewhat broken up by tables and barriers. I gave the beautiful target of my lust a little tug past me, then turned, moved a folding chair further into the area, I looked the space over. Now we were in a closed section, almost a long narrow room. On one side, away from Donald was a large dark open space, empty now. On the other side, maybe 5 feet from the pipe & drape' was the end of the chairs in the back of the Keynote hall. Thousands of people listening to Trump, hundreds of them cheering and clapping just a couple of yards away from us.My heart was pounding. My crotch was aching, and I could barely believe the audacity I had displayed in bringing this complete stranger into this semi-private space.She stood there waiting just a couple of feet from the lone chair.I approached her. I took her by the shoulders and turned her to face the stage, hidden from us. I stood behind her and whispered, “Can you hear him ok?”“Just fine,” she answered, huskily, leaning back into me.I let my hands slide down her arms then reached around and took her breasts in my hands, cupping them, squeezing softly. I leaned in and kissed her neck, working up to her ear, where I nibbled on her ear lobe, my lips pressing against her two stud earrings.Her hands slid behind her back, and met at my crotch, rubbing me, while her head tilted to one side, giving me better access. I kissed and nuzzled her neck and chin, then slid around her, regretfully moving away from her hands. I stood in front of her, tilted her chin up, and kissed her.The crowd burst into cheers and I got goose bumps. She kissed me desperately, fiercely, her arms wrapping around me. I let my hands drop down to her firm, round ass, and pulled her hard against me. She ground her crotch against mine, while our tongues tangled.I had to break free eventually. As sweet as she was to kiss, I needed more. Much more. I pulled the chair around, facing away from us, and put her hands on the back of it, with her still facing the stage. I slid around her, my hands wandering all over her body, and then when I was directly behind her, I slid my hands down her thighs, and slowly brought them upwards. I lifted her tight skirt higher and higher, encountering a little resistance as they cleared the fullest part of her butt, exposing red bikini underwear, an obvious match to her bra. Her skirt was bunched up around her waist, and I leaned into her, again nuzzling her neck, while my hands caressed below her waist, first through the lacy red cloth, and then sliding inside, exploring her soft flesh. She was bent over just a bit, so she could hold onto the back of that chair, pushing her ass back towards me.I backed away, dropping to my knees, and slowly slid her underwear down her legs, kissing that sweet, white ass. This was a big deal. I thought I noticed some reluctance from her, and she trembled a bit, but seemed to settle down. This was really happening!She had a bit of a tan, not heavy, and her tan line was an irresistible attraction. I traced it with my tongue, from the outside of her hip across her ass, and down between her legs. She stepped out of her underwear, then opened her legs wider, bending low, resting her hands on the seat of the chair. It gave me greater access, and I continued the tongue bath, between her cheeks, past the cute little pucker of her ass, until my tongue could just curl up a bit and enter the bottom of her wet pussy. Her smell was strong, and devastating, and I grabbed her cheeks, spread them wider and licked and sucked her bare nether-lips tasting this stranger, and enjoying the action immensely.I had her trembling. Driving my tongue as far into her as possible, I tongue-fucked her repeatedly, while massaging her ass cheeks. Then I replaced my tongue with my finger, reaching inside her, rubbing the silken inner walls. One finger slowly became two, while I kissed and nibbled on her smooth butt cheeks. A third finger entered her, the going tight now, and my other hand pulled her ass cheek to the side so I could lick her moist bunghole. Her right hand slid back, and pulled her other cheek wide, opening herself up for me. While my fingers slid in and out of her steaming hole, my teasing tongue worried her rear, pushing at that brown puckered hole, until I could just work it's way in a bit, curling it and pushing hard, my tongue tip sliding into her ass repeatedly. While I familiarized myself with her sweet (and tangy) privates, the talk continued, and rounds of clapping and cheering just egged me on.I could feel her legs trembling, and then her butthole squeezed tight on my tongue and her pussy clamped down on my fingers, milking them in waves, while her juices flowed freely down my palm and the back of my hand. I wiggled my fingers inside her, until she loosened up a bit, and then I turned my hand, so my fingers could face forward. I removed one finger, and then pressed forward hard, searching for her G-spot while my thumb reached forward sliding through the sparse hair to find it's way onto her love button. I rubbed firmly and as she responded, pushing against my hand, I drove my tongue into her ass as far as I could, wiggling my chin as I went, and working a good inch or so into her.This time she almost collapsed, her knees buckling, and pulling her ass off my tongue. She gasped, but the sound was a whisper compared to the heavily amplified voice of The Donald regaling us with how he liked losers, because they made him feel so good. My hand was soaked in her juices which ran freely down the inside of her thighs. I leaned in between her legs, and licked her clean, up both thighs.I finally released her pussy, and stood back, looking at this pretty blonde stranger, bent over in front of me, her ass looking delicious, and the red swollen lips of her pussy calling out their siren song.I unbuckled my belt and slid my pants down, taking my boxers with them. I lowered them enough to free myself, my rock hard mast pointing towards it's desired goal. She never turned around to look at me, instead just waiting, hips thrust out.Shaft in hand, I shuffled towards her again, and slid the head of my cock between her lips, and with a nudge of my hips, pushed the head just inside of her. I was in heaven. Still holding onto my rod, I rubbed the head in and out, all over her swollen pussy, occasionally pushing an inch or so inside of her, but never really entering her completely. She started pushing back at me when I would get the head inside her steamy opening, and I finally fulfilled both our wishes, pushing my cock inexorably inside of her until I was buried to the hilt. I reached around her, inside of her shirt, and started playing with her breasts. My exploring fingers discovered a front latch and I popped it, allowing my hands unfettered access to her sweet little breasts, not much more than a handful, with hard little nipples that spoke volumes for her aroused state.My hips started in, slowly fucking her, while my hands played with her breasts, tugging on those unseen nipples.I was about as big and hard as I get. I'm not huge, but a bit above average in length, and very thick. Sometimes it takes a bit of work to get my full length buried inside some tight young twat, but this pretty blonde had no trouble accommodating my full length and thickness. I let go of her breasts and grabbed her hips, fucking her harder, giving long, full strokes that she eagerly accepted and pushed back against. I was feeling incredible, hard and ready, enjoying the sensation of being buried in this hot little tart, yet feeling no urgent compulsion to come. My legs were tiring a bit, having to stay bent a bit to work her over, and contained in my half dropped pants. I imagined hers were getting a bit tired as well. Between the oral attention and the protracted fucking, she'd probably been bent over, on her feet for more than 20 minutes. But The Donald was scheduled to speak for an hour and a half, and he was just warming up, as was I.I pulled out of her, and hitching my pants up with one hand, I walked in front of her. I stood her up, and kissed her again, pulling her naked crotch against mine. Then I turned the chair around and sat on it, facing her, my pants dropping to my ankles. I leaned back, holding my cock upright, and waited for her.She gave me a look, almost as if she was going to call me on my brazenness. With a devilish smile she stepped forward and straddled me, slowly lowering herself onto my ready pole. She reached down and opened herself up, spreading her lips and once I was positioned just right, sliding down my length. God, it felt good.I put my trust into the sturdiness of the heavy duty folding chair, and used my hands to lift her ass up and down, slowly screwing her with about half my length. She leaned in and started kissing me again, all over my face and neck, then covering my mouth with hers. We stopped moving, our bodies merged, and our lips and tongues explored each other's mouths for an eternity, while Trump talked about seizing opportunities. I would have made him proud.I lost myself in that kiss, and slowly coming out of it found her rocking up and down on my cock, tugging at it with her pussy, her muscles down there teasing me, squeezing me, begging me to give her more.My young blonde entrepreneur stood up, and then knelt before me and lowered her face to my lap. I spread my legs invitingly, while looking down at the ground. I was glad we were on a carpeted runner. Purely selfish reasons. I knew it would be more comfortable on her knees, meaning this might last more than just a few seconds.I needn't have worried. She was teasing in her oral, caressing, kissing, licking, blowing softly, but avoiding taking me into her mouth. She was a consummate tease. She must have spent five minutes at this before she rose up high on her knees, placed her mouth directly above me, and slowly pushed down, her mouth spread wide, as she took the better part of my hard-on into her mouth.She had a small mouth, and my thickness filled her. She looked so sexy, her head slowly bobbing up and down, while her hand's index finger and thumb created a ring half-way around my shaft, stroking me in counterpoint to her lips. She was still wearing her rectangular 'Lennon' type glasses, and she peered at me over the top of them. I was tensing up. This was feeling, and looking, too good. I could feel a load building up in my balls, begging for release.My seminar goddess slowly, teasingly, pulled her head off my cock. She kept stroking me, using all her fingers, and moving a little faster. She straightened up and pulled my face forward to hers. She kissed me, sweetly this time, lovingly. Then she leaned in and whispered to me, but I couldn't hear it for the noise, which had just exploded in response to some comment of Trumps. I gave her a quizzical look and she smiled.“Come in my mouth,” she said louder this time, smiling for me.Taking my astounded look for consent, she went back to blowing me, sucking me aggressively, fucking her face on my cock. I didn't need any more encouragement, and before the next burst of applause could die down, I was exploding.I felt my cum shoot powerfully, and she pulled her head back, until just the head was buried between those carefully made-up lips. Her hand stroked my cock, milking out the shots. I felt her gag a bit, but gamely she continued, swallowing a load, while still taking all I had to give her. I don't know how much I came, put it was harder and longer than I could remember for ages. I don't come like a porn star, especially not at my age, but this hearkened back to when I was in my early twenties, at the peak of my game. When I finally pumped out the last, she squeezed out every drop she could with her hands, stroking me firmly from the base, up. Then she eased her pretty face off my cock. She smiled, and climbed into my lap. She leaned forward, and her face just inches from mine, she opened her mouth to show a small white puddle on her teasing, talented tongue. Her eyes sparkled, and she waited, obviously intent on the sound of the crowd. After a few seconds, to a sprinkle of applause, she closed her mouth, smiled and swallowed. Once the applause died down, she opened her mouth and showed me the moist emptiness.She leaned in and uttered one word, “Yummy.”Then she took my face in her hands and kissed me deeply, her tongue exploring every inch of my mouth, while the taste of my own ejaculate was carved into my taste buds.When she was satisfied, she pulled her lips off mine. “Is there more?” she asked, giving a telling nod and glance down into our laps.“Absolutely,” I told her firmly. I eased her out of my lap, and stood her up. I then stood and turned her around to sit in the seat I had just vacated.She scooted her rear right up to the edge of the chair, lifted her legs high, and pulled her knees back almost to her armpits, reaching her arms around, and pulling them in tight. She was wickedly exposed, and I could see her pussy really clearly for the first time. She had a bikini trim, waxed clean up to the top of her little clit that was peaking out at me. A soft, short fur grew upwards in a little triangle, the outsides of which were encompassed by a bright white bikini line, almost an inch of bare white flesh framing her blonde bush.Damn, the only true blonde in Dallas. At 45 years old, I've been eating bush for more than 30 years, and I put everything I knew into pleasuring this gift from God. I ate her until my lips and tongue grew numb, and I felt her come several times, filling my mouth with her liquid mana. With my neck and mouth aching, I finally pulled away from her, and felt that my own stiffness had returned, a delightful surprise. I usually take a good while to return to action. I wasn't as hard as I'd like, but easily hard enough to try for some more. I stood, my rampant cock proclaiming it's willingness, and squatting a bit awkwardly, I fed my cock into her. While I'd eaten her, her legs had rested on my shoulders much of the time, but once again she pulled them back, her calves against her ears. She was flexible, and looked incredible. Some gym, somewhere, was doing it's job admirably.I reached around her, grasping the top edges of the chair, and by spreading my legs and extending them, I found a position that was moderately comfortable. Pushing in firmly all the way to the root, I plumbed her depths with short, slow strokes, concentrating on the incredible feeling of fucking this total stranger. The intensity of the action was returning the steel to my rod, and it wasn't long before my staff was at full mast, and my stroked lengthened until I could pull all the way out, and re-enter without any help from a willing hand.We stank of sex, and I could smell it clearly. I wondered how far the smell reached. The screwing was noisy as well, a squishy sound, interrupted with the slapping of flesh on flesh. And my amazing blonde was no longer as quiet as she'd been, talking to me while I fucked her, in words that would have shocked her mother.But the cacophony of thousands of people, listening and responding to the heavily amplified words of Mr. Trump gave a great cover, and the heavy air conditioning, blowing cold on my back from the ceiling 30 feet above, seemed up to the task of keeping our illicit tryst under wraps.I fucked her harder and faster, my balls slapping against her ass, as I punished that stretched pussy which had responded so well to my ministrations so far.She came hard, with her ankles on my shoulders, and she grabbed my head, fists buried in my hair, and pulled my face down to hers, gasping, “fuck, fuck, fuck,” as she stared almost frighteningly into my eyes. Her legs tightened up, and almost pushed me off of her. As she relaxed, she let go of my hair, and pushed on my chest, moving me away.“I've got to change position,” she told me softly, then kissed me warmly before kneeling on the padded seat of the chair, and bending over the back of it. She looked back at me, and smiled. “Enjoy!” Damn. What a woman.It looked so good, I had to taste her again. I just licked her easily, then played with her ass a bit, sucking and tonguing her there, before I stood up and went for the gold.Her ass was the perfect height, and although it took a little work to get my meat back into her bright red pussy, the added friction of having her legs together was incredible. It started out as a long leisurely fuck, while I listened to the words of Trump for the first time in over an hour. I pumped her thoroughly, my entire length enjoying the full extent of her fleshy well. I grabbed her skirt, still hoisted around her waist, and used it for leverage, fucking her harder and harder until the chair started crawling across the floor. I got a perverse joy in fucking her about four feet across that space until her face was only about a foot from where the walls met at the end, and we could see through the gap. By shifting just a bit, we could see The Donald holding court at his podium.I licked my thumb and slowly worked it into her ass. She was tight, as I'd expected, but it was fun to watch my cock piercing her, and her little butt hole opening up to my ministrations.I was getting ready to come again, a pleasant surprise in itself, but I didn't know what to do. Should I finish in her? Pull out and come on her? I had to do something soon.I did the only sensible thing. I stopped and leaned forward, speaking into her ear, pretty loudly to overcome the noise of the crowd, as Donald had just announced he was ready to take questions, and a swarm of people started gathering into two lines to wait for a chance to beg of his knowledge.“I'm going to come soon,” I told her, holding very still, to avoid coming right then and there, potentially in a very dangerous place.She wiggled her hips. “It's safe.”It was all I needed. Before the first question was out of some busty woman's mouth, I was creaming my gorgeous blonde CEO's insides, squirting several times into her unbelievably accommodating pussy. Buried as deeply as possible, I stood shaking, squeezing the last of my juices out inside of her.I pulled out, my cock red and sore. I couldn't remember the last time I'd gone on that long fucking and sucking. I was suddenly very conscious of the fact that I'd fucked this total stranger without a condom, and was feeling worrisome about it. Of course it wasn't until after the fact that I showed even a modicum of sense about that.I retrieved our clothing from the floor, passing her the red panties (which would have looked silly on me) and put on my boxers and pants, over my sticky wet cock, before sitting on the chair and lacing on my shoes.I looked up and she was standing before me, with an enigmatic little smile twisting those sensuous, pleasure giving lips.I stood and she flowed into my arms for just a moment giving me a hug. “That was fantastic,” she told me.“Oh no,” I laughed loudly. “It was much better than that. I'm sorry if you missed anything The Donald said.”She pulled my face down to hers and kissed me again. Tenderly this time. Then she pulled away. “I have to go back. I told Wallace I'd meet him at the back after Trump was done.”I let go of her, giving her ass one last squeeze, then pushed the cloth divider out of the way. I made sure my VIP pass was facing forward, and walked back into the crush of moving people. I never bothered looking to see if there were any astonished faces glancing our way. My blonde bombshell walked past me back to our seats. She walked behind the seats, leaned over, giving me one last look at that incredible butt, easily her best feature, and grabbed her tote bag. Then she walked away, never looking back, while the audience continued to pepper Trump with questions.I don't know why she behaved as she did when I sat next to her. Leaning against me, touching me constantly, giving me sultry looks, and talking to me jokingly. I'll probably never know, now. It was something unlike anything I'd ever experienced, and it resulted in an encounter I'll never forget.By Tx Tall Tales for Literotica

Getting Lucky At A Trump ConventionShagging a stranger while Trump talks success in politics & business.By Tx Tall Tales. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.I was a little delayed getting to the Convention Hall where he was going to speak, but my red VIP badge got me past the “velvet rope” down to the front 10 rows, which were looking pretty full. The hall was split up into a bunch of sections during the day, with low pipe & drape curtain panels used to separate the VIP purchase area from the hoi-poloi, and to make virtual rooms to one side and the other, as well as to create a backstage area. It was a business & leadership conference with speakers like Tony Robbins, Donald Trump, and a long list of others.One of the ushers waved me over, pointing to one of the few open seats left. I “excuse-me"d down to the spot, and wedged myself in between two attractive women, a blonde on my left and a brunette on my right. Because we were sitting in the rightmost section of the seats, the main podium was over to my left as well. As such you tended to sit turned in your seat a bit, for a more natural view, which placed the brunette “behind” me and the blonde in “front” of me.Now I'm not a little guy. Not huge, but my shoulders are a good bit wider than most. And at 220 lbs, I'm mostly muscle, though a good way from having ‘abs of steel'. The biggest problem is I'm wide. W-I-D-E. Really wide in the shoulders with a 48 inch chest. My Hawaiian heritage. It makes for uncomfortable seating in coach-class on airplanes, and in places like this, where the chairs are locked together, and they're all made for 118 lb. weaklings, and little things, like the size 2 women on either side of me.A speaker was just finishing up, and when he went into pitch mode, I asked the blonde “How was he?”“I don't know, I just got here a minute ago too. I'm here for Trump.”Let me get this out up front. I'm a horn-dog, with an addiction to women. I love blondes.“What are you here for? At the Motivational Expo, I mean,” I asked her, surreptitiously taking in her pretty face, turned up nose, cute eyeglasses, and pinned up blonde hair. Her hands were free of any rings.“Mostly just hanging out,” she told me.I thought it seemed kind of odd. It cost a couple of hundred bucks to ‘hang-out' in the VIP section, less if you signed up early and were on the right mailing list. Maybe a $100. But still pricey for “hanging out.”Even stranger was the way she was sitting. There was another pretty big black guy sitting on the other side of her, and he had all his materials from the day on the floor between his legs, forcing him to sit with his legs open. As soon as I sat down, she moved away from him, leaving a couple of inches gap, and scooted up right next to me, her side pressed against mine. Then she turned away and watched the stage.We were quiet for a bit, and I tried to start a conversation again. A glutton for punishment, I do this a lot. I like people. I like to talk to people. I guess I'm a bit of an extrovert sometimes. And in a setting like this, anybody could be a great networking contact.“What do you do?” I asked.She spoke softly, and I had to bend down to hear her. Damn, she smelled good too. “I own my own business, how about you?” she answered.“Some real-estate investment, some writing, a real-life job I wouldn't mind ditching. I'm thinking of getting into a gig like this - professional speaking.” I told her.She patted me on the leg, a pretty friendly thing to do, I thought, then said, “Will you save my seat for me while I go take a smoke break?”“Absolutely. I wouldn't dream of letting anyone else sit next to me.” I told her with my most charming boyish smile, which seldom works, but you can't fault a guy for trying.She patted me on the arm again, giving it a little squeeze, and then eased her way past me and out the row. She left her tote bag with all her materials, so I didn't think she was just blowing me off nicely.As she walked by, I took the time to check more of her out. Definitely a looker, with a light zip-up sweatshirt (unzipped) over a scoop-neck white tee, and a blue jean skirt that hugged her very pleasant looking hips. She had long slender legs that ended in ankle-high white socks and a pair of black canvas sneakers. Looked like Converse. I estimated her age in the early 20's. Yeah, I know, I'm a dirty old man, getting worked up over a girl ½ my age.Before I knew it, my blonde neighbor was returning. I sat back in my chair to let her by, and she sat back down, once again sidling right up next to me. I mean close contact.I have to tell you this was definitely new territory for me. I've known friendly women, and aggressive women, but this woman just seemed to like pressing against me. My mind was spinning trying to figure this out, it wasn't something in my known realm of experiences, and not to brag, but I have had my share.I had a choice of sitting with my arms crossed, and shoulders pulled in, or taking up half the seats on either side of me. But I could also turn a bit in the seat, and put my arm behind the seat to my side, which I did, especially easy since we were in the last VIP row, and there was an open space behind us with the barrier between us and the green-badgers.“Blondie” must have considered this some kind of invitation. She turned even more into me, and turned her head, resting it on my shoulder. She took several opportunities to pat me on the leg and arm again. I've read a few books on body behavior, and everything I know tells me this was a sign that I could be more forward, but I was still very hesitant. It seemed a spectacularly weird place to be hitting on a strange woman. But my little head was starting to wake up and do part of the thinking for me.The lights started to go down, implying the start of the next program. Blondie, whose name I still hadn't gotten, leaned forward to take off her sweat-jacket, revealing bare shoulders, and a nice pair of breasts, if on the smallish side. She patted me on the leg again, her hand lingering, and she gave a squeeze.“This should be good to hear,” she admitted. She was turned a bit in her seat, facing the podium and leaning into me, fully half her weight pressed against me. I could smell the baby-powder she'd used early in the day, and the slight hint of where the long day of sitting in cramped quarters was finally winning the battle against her deodorant. The smell of her was getting me even hotter, it was going to be hard to pay attention to Trump. He'd better be good.I was able to look over her shoulder, and had a pretty good view into her shirt. I'm not a giant at 6'1”, but I have a long torso, and when seated I tend to be a head above those around me. It gave for a great vantage point to look her over. Not a lot of cleavage, but I could clearly see her red bra, which had a big red flower, better than an inch across, right where the cup met the strap.The show helpers were walking down the aisle, passing out signs for us. These read “Trump for President”, the ones that we got, at least. There were other ones being passed around, one said “You're FIRED”, and there was at least one other one.My pretty blonde neighbor took out a marker and started writing on her sign. She wrote “Divorced” over TRUMP, and “Is So” between the words TRUMP and For. Then she wrote “Cool” between For and President. I wasn't sure what that message was.“He is divorced, right?” She asked me, again patting my leg. My leg was beginning to really like that, as my little head reminded me.“Twice. Ivana, and Marla Maples. He's married again since then.” I told her.“I don't watch much TV.” She said, putting down her pen, holding her sign in her lap, and resting her near hand on my knee.I was really confused. Was she just friendly? Was she coming on to me? What was going on? “She wants you,” the little head told me, encouraging my addiction. “Don't be such a pussy!”She reached up to loosen her hair, and took the bun out. She started to twist it back up, and my little head spoke aloud for the first time, putting words in my mouth. “Leave your hair down,” I told her softly. It's something that's worked for me before in the pursuit of females. I've found that if they're interested, they often like a bit of harmless dominance. You know, some silly little comment that you expect them to obey. If they do, you're often on your way to success.She hesitated, with both hands over her head, her hair half twisted, and an elastic in her other hand. She slowly let her hair back down, and dropped the elastic into her tote bag, then shook her hair out.At this point the president of the Learning Annex came on stage to announce that The Donald was in the building, and we started a chant of Trump, Trump, Trump, led by the show workers on stage, a bevy of about a dozen typical Dallas beauties, and a couple of guys.Donald Trump came on stage to lights and explosions, and thousands of gold foil rectangles burst out over the audience, and trickled down while Donald took his place at the podium. While the clapping continued the gold streamers fell among us, and one landed in her hair. I reached over and plucked it out, handing it to her, and then stroked her hair back into place. It didn't need the stroking, but I did.Unlike the other speakers who wanted you to stand through his whole bit, Trump told us all to sit. Then he started talking about how the show people knew how to “Feed his addiction”, and he asked the guys to leave the stage, leaving all the pretty girls behind him. I immediately knew that The Donald and I were kindred souls, sharing that common addiction.Blondie was sitting leaning against me once more, her right arm casually laid across my left leg, her hand dangling between my legs, near my knees. My partner in crime between my legs was fully awake now, uncomfortably so, looking to stretch out.Donald was talking about the beautiful women of Dallas, getting lots of cheers from the audience, including from the girls beside me. He went on to say he hated makeup, but when the makeup girl here asked if he needed any, how could he say no? He then called her out on stage, and a gorgeous latino girl with the classic Plano, store bought breasts walked out on stage and he called her over, looking for a hug. Damn, I was jealous. The man had game. I'm sure a few Billion in the bank didn't hurt.Then he pointed out another pretty woman in the front row holding up his book. She stood up and he invited her on stage. I'd sat behind this girl the day before, a six foot tall Amazon, just graduated from college. She had long very blonde hair, and was a stunner. He kept her on stage, while she asked some silly self-serving question, and he commented again how beautiful our women were, and complained that he was being setup, everyone here know of his “addiction.” Again he got laughs and cheers from the crowd. He kept her up there for a couple of minutes, hugged her and whispered to her (a hotel room number, maybe?), then she went off stage, but not back to her seat.“It's a good thing he can't see you.” I told my blonde friend softly. “You'd never get off stage.”She giggled and turned her face a bit to me. “You think so?”I looked down at her open neck, and saw one of the gold streamers had fallen against her skin. Not quite in her cleavage, but under her neck. I reached forward, brazenly, and slowly lifted it free, letting the heal of my hand rest on her breast for just a moment. I held out the piece of gold foil for her, which she took in her left hand, her other still lying comfortable across my leg. She dropped it in her tote bag.“Absolutely,” I told her.The lights were down, and Donald was starting to tell his stories. They were pretty interesting, giving us a little of his history. My new found fantasy was still leaning into me, comfortably with her head on my shoulder. Her hand on my leg was idly drawing little circles on my inside thigh, just above my knee, and I was uncomfortably hard. I was turned, my arm behind the seats, just hanging down. I brought it up to rest on the back of her chair, my hand softly touching her bare shoulder. She didn't flinch or turn away.Donald was talking politics a bit and mentioned getting in trouble for using Condi Rice and “bitch” in the same sentence. He went on to talk about how he wasn't calling her a bitch, just the opposite. He wanted a hard-boiled negotiator, someone who looked polished and professional but could be a bitch when needed. He didn't think that Condi had it in her. When he talked about professional appearance, he pointed out the suits that many were wearing, and the professional looking women down in front.My little head took completely over again. I reached across and my fingers, with almost a life of their own, slipped into the edge of her shirt, giving a little tug on her bright red bra, underneath her demure white shirt. I held the red rose in my fingers, and teased her. “Professional dress?”“Bitch in the boardroom, devil in the bedroom,” she answered, giving my leg a squeeze.I tucked the bra-strap away, letting my thumb graze her cleavage, expecting to get shot down any moment. Instead her hand slid half-way up my leg, only a couple of inches away from the jackpot.Donald started into his diatribe against that “awful ugly creature, the ugliest thing on TV, physically and mentally,” none other then Rosie. “She could never have come from Dallas.” In the meantime my blood was boiling. I opened my legs a hair, pressing against hers, and I let my arm far arm cross hers in my lap, applying light pressure to get her to slide up further on my leg. I was holding the sign we'd been given, effectively hiding my lap, and her hand slowly gave under the slight pressure, easing up my leg, until her hand was resting against my balls, and my hard-on pressing against her wrist.“You're enjoying the show,” she said softly, without turning her head. Then she gave her hand a little twist and cupped my balls, giving a gentle squeeze.I slid my hand on the back of the seat under her hair, cupping her neck, and massaging gently. I couldn't resist this amazing vixen.I leaned in, right to her ear. “I've got to have you. It's killing me.”She turned to look at me. “I really wanted to hear Donald,” she said, but her hand stroked my hardness.I reached down and took her hand off my crotch, (blasphemy!), and stood, her hand in mine. I pulled her to her feet. “You'll hear him.” Then I walked out of that row, glad that I was wearing an untucked Hawaiian shirt, which partially hid my state. She followed along, her hand moist in mine.My mind was running a mile a minute. I thought I had a great chance to do something with this girl, but where? How? I looked over the area we were in, debated trying to get behind the large ‘pipe & drape' curtains that separated the stage and the area behind it from the rest of the room. The main entrance was filled almost to capacity with people standing and watching. However the opposite end of the hall from the main entrance was in complete dark. It had been used as part of the registration from some of the classes, and was now shut down, with a rope preventing the back, general admission area from passing through. However on the VIP side of the ropes, there was a space to enter that area. And I decided to give it a shot. All this ran through my mind during the few seconds it took to scoot past the half-dozen people in our row.I walked confidently past the workers, all eyes on Trump, and out of the immediate Keynote area, past the pipe& drape partitions, into a large dark space, somewhat broken up by tables and barriers. I gave the beautiful target of my lust a little tug past me, then turned, moved a folding chair further into the area, I looked the space over. Now we were in a closed section, almost a long narrow room. On one side, away from Donald was a large dark open space, empty now. On the other side, maybe 5 feet from the pipe & drape' was the end of the chairs in the back of the Keynote hall. Thousands of people listening to Trump, hundreds of them cheering and clapping just a couple of yards away from us.My heart was pounding. My crotch was aching, and I could barely believe the audacity I had displayed in bringing this complete stranger into this semi-private space.She stood there waiting just a couple of feet from the lone chair.I approached her. I took her by the shoulders and turned her to face the stage, hidden from us. I stood behind her and whispered, “Can you hear him ok?”“Just fine,” she answered, huskily, leaning back into me.I let my hands slide down her arms then reached around and took her breasts in my hands, cupping them, squeezing softly. I leaned in and kissed her neck, working up to her ear, where I nibbled on her ear lobe, my lips pressing against her two stud earrings.Her hands slid behind her back, and met at my crotch, rubbing me, while her head tilted to one side, giving me better access. I kissed and nuzzled her neck and chin, then slid around her, regretfully moving away from her hands. I stood in front of her, tilted her chin up, and kissed her.The crowd burst into cheers and I got goose bumps. She kissed me desperately, fiercely, her arms wrapping around me. I let my hands drop down to her firm, round ass, and pulled her hard against me. She ground her crotch against mine, while our tongues tangled.I had to break free eventually. As sweet as she was to kiss, I needed more. Much more. I pulled the chair around, facing away from us, and put her hands on the back of it, with her still facing the stage. I slid around her, my hands wandering all over her body, and then when I was directly behind her, I slid my hands down her thighs, and slowly brought them upwards. I lifted her tight skirt higher and higher, encountering a little resistance as they cleared the fullest part of her butt, exposing red bikini underwear, an obvious match to her bra. Her skirt was bunched up around her waist, and I leaned into her, again nuzzling her neck, while my hands caressed below her waist, first through the lacy red cloth, and then sliding inside, exploring her soft flesh. She was bent over just a bit, so she could hold onto the back of that chair, pushing her ass back towards me.I backed away, dropping to my knees, and slowly slid her underwear down her legs, kissing that sweet, white ass. This was a big deal. I thought I noticed some reluctance from her, and she trembled a bit, but seemed to settle down. This was really happening!She had a bit of a tan, not heavy, and her tan line was an irresistible attraction. I traced it with my tongue, from the outside of her hip across her ass, and down between her legs. She stepped out of her underwear, then opened her legs wider, bending low, resting her hands on the seat of the chair. It gave me greater access, and I continued the tongue bath, between her cheeks, past the cute little pucker of her ass, until my tongue could just curl up a bit and enter the bottom of her wet pussy. Her smell was strong, and devastating, and I grabbed her cheeks, spread them wider and licked and sucked her bare nether-lips tasting this stranger, and enjoying the action immensely.I had her trembling. Driving my tongue as far into her as possible, I tongue-fucked her repeatedly, while massaging her ass cheeks. Then I replaced my tongue with my finger, reaching inside her, rubbing the silken inner walls. One finger slowly became two, while I kissed and nibbled on her smooth butt cheeks. A third finger entered her, the going tight now, and my other hand pulled her ass cheek to the side so I could lick her moist bunghole. Her right hand slid back, and pulled her other cheek wide, opening herself up for me. While my fingers slid in and out of her steaming hole, my teasing tongue worried her rear, pushing at that brown puckered hole, until I could just work it's way in a bit, curling it and pushing hard, my tongue tip sliding into her ass repeatedly. While I familiarized myself with her sweet (and tangy) privates, the talk continued, and rounds of clapping and cheering just egged me on.I could feel her legs trembling, and then her butthole squeezed tight on my tongue and her pussy clamped down on my fingers, milking them in waves, while her juices flowed freely down my palm and the back of my hand. I wiggled my fingers inside her, until she loosened up a bit, and then I turned my hand, so my fingers could face forward. I removed one finger, and then pressed forward hard, searching for her G-spot while my thumb reached forward sliding through the sparse hair to find it's way onto her love button. I rubbed firmly and as she responded, pushing against my hand, I drove my tongue into her ass as far as I could, wiggling my chin as I went, and working a good inch or so into her.This time she almost collapsed, her knees buckling, and pulling her ass off my tongue. She gasped, but the sound was a whisper compared to the heavily amplified voice of The Donald regaling us with how he liked losers, because they made him feel so good. My hand was soaked in her juices which ran freely down the inside of her thighs. I leaned in between her legs, and licked her clean, up both thighs.I finally released her pussy, and stood back, looking at this pretty blonde stranger, bent over in front of me, her ass looking delicious, and the red swollen lips of her pussy calling out their siren song.I unbuckled my belt and slid my pants down, taking my boxers with them. I lowered them enough to free myself, my rock hard mast pointing towards it's desired goal. She never turned around to look at me, instead just waiting, hips thrust out.Shaft in hand, I shuffled towards her again, and slid the head of my cock between her lips, and with a nudge of my hips, pushed the head just inside of her. I was in heaven. Still holding onto my rod, I rubbed the head in and out, all over her swollen pussy, occasionally pushing an inch or so inside of her, but never really entering her completely. She started pushing back at me when I would get the head inside her steamy opening, and I finally fulfilled both our wishes, pushing my cock inexorably inside of her until I was buried to the hilt. I reached around her, inside of her shirt, and started playing with her breasts. My exploring fingers discovered a front latch and I popped it, allowing my hands unfettered access to her sweet little breasts, not much more than a handful, with hard little nipples that spoke volumes for her aroused state.My hips started in, slowly fucking her, while my hands played with her breasts, tugging on those unseen nipples.I was about as big and hard as I get. I'm not huge, but a bit above average in length, and very thick. Sometimes it takes a bit of work to get my full length buried inside some tight young twat, but this pretty blonde had no trouble accommodating my full length and thickness. I let go of her breasts and grabbed her hips, fucking her harder, giving long, full strokes that she eagerly accepted and pushed back against. I was feeling incredible, hard and ready, enjoying the sensation of being buried in this hot little tart, yet feeling no urgent compulsion to come. My legs were tiring a bit, having to stay bent a bit to work her over, and contained in my half dropped pants. I imagined hers were getting a bit tired as well. Between the oral attention and the protracted fucking, she'd probably been bent over, on her feet for more than 20 minutes. But The Donald was scheduled to speak for an hour and a half, and he was just warming up, as was I.I pulled out of her, and hitching my pants up with one hand, I walked in front of her. I stood her up, and kissed her again, pulling her naked crotch against mine. Then I turned the chair around and sat on it, facing her, my pants dropping to my ankles. I leaned back, holding my cock upright, and waited for her.She gave me a look, almost as if she was going to call me on my brazenness. With a devilish smile she stepped forward and straddled me, slowly lowering herself onto my ready pole. She reached down and opened herself up, spreading her lips and once I was positioned just right, sliding down my length. God, it felt good.I put my trust into the sturdiness of the heavy duty folding chair, and used my hands to lift her ass up and down, slowly screwing her with about half my length. She leaned in and started kissing me again, all over my face and neck, then covering my mouth with hers. We stopped moving, our bodies merged, and our lips and tongues explored each other's mouths for an eternity, while Trump talked about seizing opportunities. I would have made him proud.I lost myself in that kiss, and slowly coming out of it found her rocking up and down on my cock, tugging at it with her pussy, her muscles down there teasing me, squeezing me, begging me to give her more.My young blonde entrepreneur stood up, and then knelt before me and lowered her face to my lap. I spread my legs invitingly, while looking down at the ground. I was glad we were on a carpeted runner. Purely selfish reasons. I knew it would be more comfortable on her knees, meaning this might last more than just a few seconds.I needn't have worried. She was teasing in her oral, caressing, kissing, licking, blowing softly, but avoiding taking me into her mouth. She was a consummate tease. She must have spent five minutes at this before she rose up high on her knees, placed her mouth directly above me, and slowly pushed down, her mouth spread wide, as she took the better part of my hard-on into her mouth.She had a small mouth, and my thickness filled her. She looked so sexy, her head slowly bobbing up and down, while her hand's index finger and thumb created a ring half-way around my shaft, stroking me in counterpoint to her lips. She was still wearing her rectangular 'Lennon' type glasses, and she peered at me over the top of them. I was tensing up. This was feeling, and looking, too good. I could feel a load building up in my balls, begging for release.My seminar goddess slowly, teasingly, pulled her head off my cock. She kept stroking me, using all her fingers, and moving a little faster. She straightened up and pulled my face forward to hers. She kissed me, sweetly this time, lovingly. Then she leaned in and whispered to me, but I couldn't hear it for the noise, which had just exploded in response to some comment of Trumps. I gave her a quizzical look and she smiled.“Come in my mouth,” she said louder this time, smiling for me.Taking my astounded look for consent, she went back to blowing me, sucking me aggressively, fucking her face on my cock. I didn't need any more encouragement, and before the next burst of applause could die down, I was exploding.I felt my cum shoot powerfully, and she pulled her head back, until just the head was buried between those carefully made-up lips. Her hand stroked my cock, milking out the shots. I felt her gag a bit, but gamely she continued, swallowing a load, while still taking all I had to give her. I don't know how much I came, put it was harder and longer than I could remember for ages. I don't come like a porn star, especially not at my age, but this hearkened back to when I was in my early twenties, at the peak of my game. When I finally pumped out the last, she squeezed out every drop she could with her hands, stroking me firmly from the base, up. Then she eased her pretty face off my cock. She smiled, and climbed into my lap. She leaned forward, and her face just inches from mine, she opened her mouth to show a small white puddle on her teasing, talented tongue. Her eyes sparkled, and she waited, obviously intent on the sound of the crowd. After a few seconds, to a sprinkle of applause, she closed her mouth, smiled and swallowed. Once the applause died down, she opened her mouth and showed me the moist emptiness.She leaned in and uttered one word, “Yummy.”Then she took my face in her hands and kissed me deeply, her tongue exploring every inch of my mouth, while the taste of my own ejaculate was carved into my taste buds.When she was satisfied, she pulled her lips off mine. “Is there more?” she asked, giving a telling nod and glance down into our laps.“Absolutely,” I told her firmly. I eased her out of my lap, and stood her up. I then stood and turned her around to sit in the seat I had just vacated.She scooted her rear right up to the edge of the chair, lifted her legs high, and pulled her knees back almost to her armpits, reaching her arms around, and pulling them in tight. She was wickedly exposed, and I could see her pussy really clearly for the first time. She had a bikini trim, waxed clean up to the top of her little clit that was peaking out at me. A soft, short fur grew upwards in a little triangle, the outsides of which were encompassed by a bright white bikini line, almost an inch of bare white flesh framing her blonde bush.Damn, the only true blonde in Dallas. At 45 years old, I've been eating bush for more than 30 years, and I put everything I knew into pleasuring this gift from God. I ate her until my lips and tongue grew numb, and I felt her come several times, filling my mouth with her liquid mana. With my neck and mouth aching, I finally pulled away from her, and felt that my own stiffness had returned, a delightful surprise. I usually take a good while to return to action. I wasn't as hard as I'd like, but easily hard enough to try for some more. I stood, my rampant cock proclaiming it's willingness, and squatting a bit awkwardly, I fed my cock into her. While I'd eaten her, her legs had rested on my shoulders much of the time, but once again she pulled them back, her calves against her ears. She was flexible, and looked incredible. Some gym, somewhere, was doing it's job admirably.I reached around her, grasping the top edges of the chair, and by spreading my legs and extending them, I found a position that was moderately comfortable. Pushing in firmly all the way to the root, I plumbed her depths with short, slow strokes, concentrating on the incredible feeling of fucking this total stranger. The intensity of the action was returning the steel to my rod, and it wasn't long before my staff was at full mast, and my stroked lengthened until I could pull all the way out, and re-enter without any help from a willing hand.We stank of sex, and I could smell it clearly. I wondered how far the smell reached. The screwing was noisy as well, a squishy sound, interrupted with the slapping of flesh on flesh. And my amazing blonde was no longer as quiet as she'd been, talking to me while I fucked her, in words that would have shocked her mother.But the cacophony of thousands of people, listening and responding to the heavily amplified words of Mr. Trump gave a great cover, and the heavy air conditioning, blowing cold on my back from the ceiling 30 feet above, seemed up to the task of keeping our illicit tryst under wraps.I fucked her harder and faster, my balls slapping against her ass, as I punished that stretched pussy which had responded so well to my ministrations so far.She came hard, with her ankles on my shoulders, and she grabbed my head, fists buried in my hair, and pulled my face down to hers, gasping, “fuck, fuck, fuck,” as she stared almost frighteningly into my eyes. Her legs tightened up, and almost pushed me off of her. As she relaxed, she let go of my hair, and pushed on my chest, moving me away.“I've got to change position,” she told me softly, then kissed me warmly before kneeling on the padded seat of the chair, and bending over the back of it. She looked back at me, and smiled. “Enjoy!” Damn. What a woman.It looked so good, I had to taste her again. I just licked her easily, then played with her ass a bit, sucking and tonguing her there, before I stood up and went for the gold.Her ass was the perfect height, and although it took a little work to get my meat back into her bright red pussy, the added friction of having her legs together was incredible. It started out as a long leisurely fuck, while I listened to the words of Trump for the first time in over an hour. I pumped her thoroughly, my entire length enjoying the full extent of her fleshy well. I grabbed her skirt, still hoisted around her waist, and used it for leverage, fucking her harder and harder until the chair started crawling across the floor. I got a perverse joy in fucking her about four feet across that space until her face was only about a foot from where the walls met at the end, and we could see through the gap. By shifting just a bit, we could see The Donald holding court at his podium.I licked my thumb and slowly worked it into her ass. She was tight, as I'd expected, but it was fun to watch my cock piercing her, and her little butt hole opening up to my ministrations.I was getting ready to come again, a pleasant surprise in itself, but I didn't know what to do. Should I finish in her? Pull out and come on her? I had to do something soon.I did the only sensible thing. I stopped and leaned forward, speaking into her ear, pretty loudly to overcome the noise of the crowd, as Donald had just announced he was ready to take questions, and a swarm of people started gathering into two lines to wait for a chance to beg of his knowledge.“I'm going to come soon,” I told her, holding very still, to avoid coming right then and there, potentially in a very dangerous place.She wiggled her hips. “It's safe.”It was all I needed. Before the first question was out of some busty woman's mouth, I was creaming my gorgeous blonde CEO's insides, squirting several times into her unbelievably accommodating pussy. Buried as deeply as possible, I stood shaking, squeezing the last of my juices out inside of her.I pulled out, my cock red and sore. I couldn't remember the last time I'd gone on that long fucking and sucking. I was suddenly very conscious of the fact that I'd fucked this total stranger without a condom, and was feeling worrisome about it. Of course it wasn't until after the fact that I showed even a modicum of sense about that.I retrieved our clothing from the floor, passing her the red panties (which would have looked silly on me) and put on my boxers and pants, over my sticky wet cock, before sitting on the chair and lacing on my shoes.I looked up and she was standing before me, with an enigmatic little smile twisting those sensuous, pleasure giving lips.I stood and she flowed into my arms for just a moment giving me a hug. “That was fantastic,” she told me.“Oh no,” I laughed loudly. “It was much better than that. I'm sorry if you missed anything The Donald said.”She pulled my face down to hers and kissed me again. Tenderly this time. Then she pulled away. “I have to go back. I told Wallace I'd meet him at the back after Trump was done.”I let go of her, giving her ass one last squeeze, then pushed the cloth divider out of the way. I made sure my VIP pass was facing forward, and walked back into the crush of moving people. I never bothered looking to see if there were any astonished faces glancing our way. My blonde bombshell walked past me back to our seats. She walked behind the seats, leaned over, giving me one last look at that incredible butt, easily her best feature, and grabbed her tote bag. Then she walked away, never looking back, while the audience continued to pepper Trump with questions.I don't know why she behaved as she did when I sat next to her. Leaning against me, touching me constantly, giving me sultry looks, and talking to me jokingly. I'll probably never know, now. It was something unlike anything I'd ever experienced, and it resulted in an encounter I'll never forget.By Tx Tall Tales for Literotica

I am gearing up for my 2nd TEDx Talk for this weekend. Oct 2, 2022 at Convention Hall in Cape May NJ! And I am having all kinds of thoughts about this. Listen in to what's going on in my head that is probably going on in your head but with a different topic…and learn what you can do to navigate these thoughts so they work in your favor. Inside both my programs (VIP and group) I will be sharing a worksheet that allows you to dive deeper into when these negative thoughts start dragging you down and how to navigate through them. Then as a client you can get additional help on our coaching calls. Because how you think about yourself, your body and what is going on around you IS how you lose weight for the last time. I do this on a daily basis for myself and for my clients. If you would like help to better understanding the way your mind works and you would like me to help you with that book your discovery call with me today. Go to NicoleSimonin.com/call to schedule. On your call, share all your frustrations about your weight and what you have tried. I will listen and then share some insight on what you are missing. We will talk about what it would look like to work together and regardless of whether we work together or not, you will leave this call with more clarity on what to do next. Book your Discovery Call HERE    Follow me on Instagram!  Coaching click HERE TV Show Healthy Travel with Nicole click HERE    

Host Will Dailey takes you on a musical tour of Asbury Park, New Jersey: the working-class, seaside city Springsteen made famous. But there was an Asbury before Bruce—the Asbury that made Bruce—and its history isn't all sun and sand. It's also a story of racism, injustice, and deadly tides. But also an American story of survival, revival, and redemption. Get a glimpse of what happens backstage, under the boardwalk, and behind the music as Dailey unearths the ghosts of Asbury Park...as well as the people who have brought it rocking and roaring back to life. To hear the artists mentioned in this episode, check Will's playlist at soundofourtownpod.com Want to chat about the music in your city? Hit us up on:  Instagram: @DoubleElvis @WillDaileyOfficial Twitter: @DoubleElvisFm @WillDailey Sound of Our Town is a production of Double Elvis and iHeartRadio. Executive Produced by Jake Brennan, Brady Sadler, and Carly Carioli for Double Elvis. Production assistance by Matt Tahaney and Matt Beaudoin. Created, written, hosted and scored by Will Dailey.  Additional writing on this episode by Samantha Farrell. Special thanks to Tim Donnelly, Danny Clinch, and Zack Sandler for their help with this episode. Music for this episode composed and performed by Will Dailey. Check out Will's music: Spotify Apple Music Bandcamp  SOURCES for this episode include: The Incredible History of Asbury Park's Convention Hall: https://wpst.com/history-of-asbury-park-convention-hall/ In Asbury Park, Johnny Cash Walked The Line: https://takecountryback.wordpress.com/2007/08/05/in-asbury-park-he-walked-the-line/ The House Springsteen Built: An Oral History of the Stone Pony: https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2018/10/17/nyregion/stone-pony-asbury-park-nj.html Springsteen on the Stone Pony: https://www.nytimes.com/2018/10/17/nyregion/bruce-springsteen-interview-stone-pony.html?referringSource=articleShare Asbury Park: Riot, Redemption, Rock N Roll: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCGwAPDKiL9fLDJ_2K_P-eWw SOME PLACES YOU'LL WANT TO VISIT AFTER LISTENING TO THIS EPISODE: Parlor Gallery Porkchop Langosta Lounge Transparent Clinch Gallery Asbury Park Boardwalk Berkeley Oceanfront Hotel Asbury Park Yacht Club The Saint The Wonder Bar Asbury Lanes Light of Day Festival Sea.Hear.Now Festival Stone Pony  Silverball Pinball Museum The Asbury Hotel  See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Getting Lucky At A Trump ConventionShagging a stranger while Trump talks success in politics & business.By Tx Tall Tales. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.I was a little delayed getting to the Convention Hall where he was going to speak, but my red VIP badge got me past the “velvet rope” down to the front 10 rows, which were looking pretty full. The hall was split up into a bunch of sections during the day, with low pipe & drape curtain panels used to separate the VIP purchase area from the hoi-poloi, and to make virtual rooms to one side and the other, as well as to create a backstage area. It was a business & leadership conference with speakers like Tony Robbins, Donald Trump, and a long list of others.One of the ushers waved me over, pointing to one of the few open seats left. I “excuse-me"d down to the spot, and wedged myself in between two attractive women, a blonde on my left and a brunette on my right. Because we were sitting in the rightmost section of the seats, the main podium was over to my left as well. As such you tended to sit turned in your seat a bit, for a more natural view, which placed the brunette "behind” me and the blonde in “front” of me.Now I'm not a little guy. Not huge, but my shoulders are a good bit wider than most. And at 220 lbs, I'm mostly muscle, though a good way from having ‘abs of steel'. The biggest problem is I'm wide. W-I-D-E. Really wide in the shoulders with a 48 inch chest. My Hawaiian heritage. It makes for uncomfortable seating in coach-class on airplanes, and in places like this, where the chairs are locked together, and they're all made for 118 lb. weaklings, and little things, like the size 2 women on either side of me.A speaker was just finishing up, and when he went into pitch mode, I asked the blonde “How was he?”“I don't know, I just got here a minute ago too. I'm here for Trump.”Let me get this out up front. I'm a horn-dog, with an addiction to women. I love blondes.“What are you here for? At the Motivational Expo, I mean,” I asked her, surreptitiously taking in her pretty face, turned up nose, cute eyeglasses, and pinned up blonde hair. Her hands were free of any rings.“Mostly just hanging out,” she told me.I thought it seemed kind of odd. It cost a couple of hundred bucks to 'hang-out' in the VIP section, less if you signed up early and were on the right mailing list. Maybe a $100. But still pricey for “hanging out.”Even stranger was the way she was sitting. There was another pretty big black guy sitting on the other side of her, and he had all his materials from the day on the floor between his legs, forcing him to sit with his legs open. As soon as I sat down, she moved away from him, leaving a couple of inches gap, and scooted up right next to me, her side pressed against mine. Then she turned away and watched the stage.We were quiet for a bit, and I tried to start a conversation again. A glutton for punishment, I do this a lot. I like people. I like to talk to people. I guess I'm a bit of an extrovert sometimes. And in a setting like this, anybody could be a great networking contact.“What do you do?” I asked.She spoke softly, and I had to bend down to hear her. Damn, she smelled good too. “I own my own business, how about you?” she answered.“Some real-estate investment, some writing, a real-life job I wouldn't mind ditching. I'm thinking of getting into a gig like this - professional speaking.” I told her.She patted me on the leg, a pretty friendly thing to do, I thought, then said, “Will you save my seat for me while I go take a smoke break?”“Absolutely. I wouldn't dream of letting anyone else sit next to me.” I told her with my most charming boyish smile, which seldom works, but you can't fault a guy for trying.She patted me on the arm again, giving it a little squeeze, and then eased her way past me and out the row. She left her tote bag with all her materials, so I didn't think she was just blowing me off nicely.As she walked by, I took the time to check more of her out. Definitely a looker, with a light zip-up sweatshirt (unzipped) over a scoop-neck white tee, and a blue jean skirt that hugged her very pleasant looking hips. She had long slender legs that ended in ankle-high white socks and a pair of black canvas sneakers. Looked like Converse. I estimated her age in the early 20's. Yeah, I know, I'm a dirty old man, getting worked up over a girl ½ my age.Before I knew it, my blonde neighbor was returning. I sat back in my chair to let her by, and she sat back down, once again sidling right up next to me. I mean close contact.I have to tell you this was definitely new territory for me. I've known friendly women, and aggressive women, but this woman just seemed to like pressing against me. My mind was spinning trying to figure this out, it wasn't something in my known realm of experiences, and not to brag, but I have had my share.I had a choice of sitting with my arms crossed, and shoulders pulled in, or taking up half the seats on either side of me. But I could also turn a bit in the seat, and put my arm behind the seat to my side, which I did, especially easy since we were in the last VIP row, and there was an open space behind us with the barrier between us and the green-badgers.“Blondie” must have considered this some kind of invitation. She turned even more into me, and turned her head, resting it on my shoulder. She took several opportunities to pat me on the leg and arm again. I've read a few books on body behavior, and everything I know tells me this was a sign that I could be more forward, but I was still very hesitant. It seemed a spectacularly weird place to be hitting on a strange woman. But my little head was starting to wake up and do part of the thinking for me.The lights started to go down, implying the start of the next program. Blondie, whose name I still hadn't gotten, leaned forward to take off her sweat-jacket, revealing bare shoulders, and a nice pair of breasts, if on the smallish side. She patted me on the leg again, her hand lingering, and she gave a squeeze.“This should be good to hear,” she admitted. She was turned a bit in her seat, facing the podium and leaning into me, fully half her weight pressed against me. I could smell the baby-powder she'd used early in the day, and the slight hint of where the long day of sitting in cramped quarters was finally winning the battle against her deodorant. The smell of her was getting me even hotter, it was going to be hard to pay attention to Trump. He'd better be good.I was able to look over her shoulder, and had a pretty good view into her shirt. I'm not a giant at 6'1", but I have a long torso, and when seated I tend to be a head above those around me. It gave for a great vantage point to look her over. Not a lot of cleavage, but I could clearly see her red bra, which had a big red flower, better than an inch across, right where the cup met the strap.The show helpers were walking down the aisle, passing out signs for us. These read “Trump for President”, the ones that we got, at least. There were other ones being passed around, one said “You're FIRED”, and there was at least one other one.My pretty blonde neighbor took out a marker and started writing on her sign. She wrote “Divorced” over TRUMP, and “Is So” between the words TRUMP and For. Then she wrote “Cool” between For and President. I wasn't sure what that message was.“He is divorced, right?” She asked me, again patting my leg. My leg was beginning to really like that, as my little head reminded me.“Twice. Ivana, and Marla Maples. He's married again since then.” I told her.“I don't watch much TV.” She said, putting down her pen, holding her sign in her lap, and resting her near hand on my knee.I was really confused. Was she just friendly? Was she coming on to me? What was going on? “She wants you,” the little head told me, encouraging my addiction. “Don't be such a pussy!”She reached up to loosen her hair, and took the bun out. She started to twist it back up, and my little head spoke aloud for the first time, putting words in my mouth. “Leave your hair down,” I told her softly. It's something that's worked for me before in the pursuit of females. I've found that if they're interested, they often like a bit of harmless dominance. You know, some silly little comment that you expect them to obey. If they do, you're often on your way to success.She hesitated, with both hands over her head, her hair half twisted, and an elastic in her other hand. She slowly let her hair back down, and dropped the elastic into her tote bag, then shook her hair out.At this point the president of the Learning Annex came on stage to announce that The Donald was in the building, and we started a chant of Trump, Trump, Trump, led by the show workers on stage, a bevy of about a dozen typical Dallas beauties, and a couple of guys.Donald Trump came on stage to lights and explosions, and thousands of gold foil rectangles burst out over the audience, and trickled down while Donald took his place at the podium. While the clapping continued the gold streamers fell among us, and one landed in her hair. I reached over and plucked it out, handing it to her, and then stroked her hair back into place. It didn't need the stroking, but I did.Unlike the other speakers who wanted you to stand through his whole bit, Trump told us all to sit. Then he started talking about how the show people knew how to “Feed his addiction”, and he asked the guys to leave the stage, leaving all the pretty girls behind him. I immediately knew that The Donald and I were kindred souls, sharing that common addiction.Blondie was sitting leaning against me once more, her right arm casually laid across my left leg, her hand dangling between my legs, near my knees. My partner in crime between my legs was fully awake now, uncomfortably so, looking to stretch out.Donald was talking about the beautiful women of Dallas, getting lots of cheers from the audience, including from the girls beside me. He went on to say he hated makeup, but when the makeup girl here asked if he needed any, how could he say no? He then called her out on stage, and a gorgeous latino girl with the classic Plano, store bought breasts walked out on stage and he called her over, looking for a hug. Damn, I was jealous. The man had game. I'm sure a few Billion in the bank didn't hurt.Then he pointed out another pretty woman in the front row holding up his book. She stood up and he invited her on stage. I'd sat behind this girl the day before, a six foot tall Amazon, just graduated from college. She had long very blonde hair, and was a stunner. He kept her on stage, while she asked some silly self-serving question, and he commented again how beautiful our women were, and complained that he was being setup, everyone here know of his “addiction.” Again he got laughs and cheers from the crowd. He kept her up there for a couple of minutes, hugged her and whispered to her (a hotel room number, maybe?), then she went off stage, but not back to her seat.“It's a good thing he can't see you.” I told my blonde friend softly. “You'd never get off stage.”She giggled and turned her face a bit to me. “You think so?”I looked down at her open neck, and saw one of the gold streamers had fallen against her skin. Not quite in her cleavage, but under her neck. I reached forward, brazenly, and slowly lifted it free, letting the heal of my hand rest on her breast for just a moment. I held out the piece of gold foil for her, which she took in her left hand, her other still lying comfortable across my leg. She dropped it in her tote bag.“Absolutely,” I told her.The lights were down, and Donald was starting to tell his stories. They were pretty interesting, giving us a little of his history. My new found fantasy was still leaning into me, comfortably with her head on my shoulder. Her hand on my leg was idly drawing little circles on my inside thigh, just above my knee, and I was uncomfortably hard. I was turned, my arm behind the seats, just hanging down. I brought it up to rest on the back of her chair, my hand softly touching her bare shoulder. She didn't flinch or turn away.Donald was talking politics a bit and mentioned getting in trouble for using Condi Rice and “bitch” in the same sentence. He went on to talk about how he wasn't calling her a bitch, just the opposite. He wanted a hard-boiled negotiator, someone who looked polished and professional but could be a bitch when needed. He didn't think that Condi had it in her. When he talked about professional appearance, he pointed out the suits that many were wearing, and the professional looking women down in front.My little head took completely over again. I reached across and my fingers, with almost a life of their own, slipped into the edge of her shirt, giving a little tug on her bright red bra, underneath her demure white shirt. I held the red rose in my fingers, and teased her. “Professional dress?”“Bitch in the boardroom, devil in the bedroom,” she answered, giving my leg a squeeze.I tucked the bra-strap away, letting my thumb graze her cleavage, expecting to get shot down any moment. Instead her hand slid half-way up my leg, only a couple of inches away from the jackpot.Donald started into his diatribe against that “awful ugly creature, the ugliest thing on TV, physically and mentally,” none other then Rosie. “She could never have come from Dallas.” In the meantime my blood was boiling. I opened my legs a hair, pressing against hers, and I let my arm far arm cross hers in my lap, applying light pressure to get her to slide up further on my leg. I was holding the sign we'd been given, effectively hiding my lap, and her hand slowly gave under the slight pressure, easing up my leg, until her hand was resting against my balls, and my hard-on pressing against her wrist.“You're enjoying the show,” she said softly, without turning her head. Then she gave her hand a little twist and cupped my balls, giving a gentle squeeze.I slid my hand on the back of the seat under her hair, cupping her neck, and massaging gently. I couldn't resist this amazing vixen.I leaned in, right to her ear. “I've got to have you. It's killing me.”She turned to look at me. “I really wanted to hear Donald,” she said, but her hand stroked my hardness.I reached down and took her hand off my crotch, (blasphemy!), and stood, her hand in mine. I pulled her to her feet. “You'll hear him.” Then I walked out of that row, glad that I was wearing an untucked Hawaiian shirt, which partially hid my state. She followed along, her hand moist in mine.My mind was running a mile a minute. I thought I had a great chance to do something with this girl, but where? How? I looked over the area we were in, debated trying to get behind the large ‘pipe & drape' curtains that separated the stage and the area behind it from the rest of the room. The main entrance was filled almost to capacity with people standing and watching. However the opposite end of the hall from the main entrance was in complete dark. It had been used as part of the registration from some of the classes, and was now shut down, with a rope preventing the back, general admission area from passing through. However on the VIP side of the ropes, there was a space to enter that area. And I decided to give it a shot. All this ran through my mind during the few seconds it took to scoot past the half-dozen people in our row.I walked confidently past the workers, all eyes on Trump, and out of the immediate Keynote area, past the pipe& drape partitions, into a large dark space, somewhat broken up by tables and barriers. I gave the beautiful target of my lust a little tug past me, then turned, moved a folding chair further into the area, I looked the space over. Now we were in a closed section, almost a long narrow room. On one side, away from Donald was a large dark open space, empty now. On the other side, maybe 5 feet from the pipe & drape' was the end of the chairs in the back of the Keynote hall. Thousands of people listening to Trump, hundreds of them cheering and clapping just a couple of yards away from us.My heart was pounding. My crotch was aching, and I could barely believe the audacity I had displayed in bringing this complete stranger into this semi-private space.She stood there waiting just a couple of feet from the lone chair.I approached her. I took her by the shoulders and turned her to face the stage, hidden from us. I stood behind her and whispered, “Can you hear him ok?”“Just fine,” she answered, huskily, leaning back into me.I let my hands slide down her arms then reached around and took her breasts in my hands, cupping them, squeezing softly. I leaned in and kissed her neck, working up to her ear, where I nibbled on her ear lobe, my lips pressing against her two stud earrings.Her hands slid behind her back, and met at my crotch, rubbing me, while her head tilted to one side, giving me better access. I kissed and nuzzled her neck and chin, then slid around her, regretfully moving away from her hands. I stood in front of her, tilted her chin up, and kissed her.The crowd burst into cheers and I got goose bumps. She kissed me desperately, fiercely, her arms wrapping around me. I let my hands drop down to her firm, round ass, and pulled her hard against me. She ground her crotch against mine, while our tongues tangled.I had to break free eventually. As sweet as she was to kiss, I needed more. Much more. I pulled the chair around, facing away from us, and put her hands on the back of it, with her still facing the stage. I slid around her, my hands wandering all over her body, and then when I was directly behind her, I slid my hands down her thighs, and slowly brought them upwards. I lifted her tight skirt higher and higher, encountering a little resistance as they cleared the fullest part of her butt, exposing red bikini underwear, an obvious match to her bra. Her skirt was bunched up around her waist, and I leaned into her, again nuzzling her neck, while my hands caressed below her waist, first through the lacy red cloth, and then sliding inside, exploring her soft flesh. She was bent over just a bit, so she could hold onto the back of that chair, pushing her ass back towards me.I backed away, dropping to my knees, and slowly slid her underwear down her legs, kissing that sweet, white ass. This was a big deal. I thought I noticed some reluctance from her, and she trembled a bit, but seemed to settle down. This was really happening!She had a bit of a tan, not heavy, and her tan line was an irresistible attraction. I traced it with my tongue, from the outside of her hip across her ass, and down between her legs. She stepped out of her underwear, then opened her legs wider, bending low, resting her hands on the seat of the chair. It gave me greater access, and I continued the tongue bath, between her cheeks, past the cute little pucker of her ass, until my tongue could just curl up a bit and enter the bottom of her wet pussy. Her smell was strong, and devastating, and I grabbed her cheeks, spread them wider and licked and sucked her bare nether-lips tasting this stranger, and enjoying the action immensely.I had her trembling. Driving my tongue as far into her as possible, I tongue-fucked her repeatedly, while massaging her ass cheeks. Then I replaced my tongue with my finger, reaching inside her, rubbing the silken inner walls. One finger slowly became two, while I kissed and nibbled on her smooth butt cheeks. A third finger entered her, the going tight now, and my other hand pulled her ass cheek to the side so I could lick her moist bunghole. Her right hand slid back, and pulled her other cheek wide, opening herself up for me. While my fingers slid in and out of her steaming hole, my teasing tongue worried her rear, pushing at that brown puckered hole, until I could just work it's way in a bit, curling it and pushing hard, my tongue tip sliding into her ass repeatedly. While I familiarized myself with her sweet (and tangy) privates, the talk continued, and rounds of clapping and cheering just egged me on.I could feel her legs trembling, and then her butthole squeezed tight on my tongue and her pussy clamped down on my fingers, milking them in waves, while her juices flowed freely down

The Rock Star Garage podcast is about live music. I interview my guests about their first, worst, and most memorable concert experiences. Episode four features my dear friend Victor Lieberman telling us about what it was like to attend the Beatles concert at Convention Hall in Philadelphia on September 2, 1964. Listen in as Victor shares his first-hand account of Beatlemania and how that was just the beginning of his many fabulous concert going experiences and life-long love of live music. If you would like to contact us regarding this episode or future episodes please email tom@tcwelch.com. Follow us on Instagram @rock_star_garage.

Geoff Tate of QUEENSRYQUE at Convention Hall in Asbury Park originally recorded on August 18 2011 talks about his Rock Scene!

Merriam-Webster's Word of the Day for February 26, 2022 is: wherewithal • WAIR-wih-thawl • noun Wherewithal refers to the means, resources, or money that is needed to get or do something. // News reports suggest that the company does not have the wherewithal from investors to prevent a buyout. See the entry > Examples: "The repairs, however, could cost millions of dollars…. The stalemate has some observers wondering if the private sector has the wherewithal to continue operating the Paramount and Convention Hall." — Michael L. Diamond, The Asbury Park (New Jersey) Press, 6 Feb. 2022 Did you know? Wherewithal comes from where and withal (meaning "with"), and it has been used as a conjunction meaning "with or by means of which" and as a pronoun meaning "that with or by which." These days, however, it is almost always used as a noun referring to the means or resources a person has at one's disposal—especially financial resources.

Welcome back to episode 45 of I Saw The Beatles! This week's guest is Jay Mark who worked at Convention Hall in Atlantic City, NJ and was there when the Beatles played on August 30, 1964. 

This week, with the help of Ming Chen from A Shared Universe PodcaStudio, Amy & Joe talk to two long time members of the Asbury Park art community, Porkchop and Bradley Hoffer, both of whose works feature prominently on the world famous Wooden Walls Project on the Asbury Park Boardwalk and who just this week saved Asbury's Christmas by creating the remarkable 17 foot high Christmas Tree Sculpture, named “The Giving Tree”, now on display in Convention Hall. We encourage you all to go down and check it out!

I chat with the newest members of the APBA Hall of Fame, including Dr. Rebecca Peterson and Steve Ryan, who is joined by his wife, Chastity. APBA CEO, John Herson interviews, yours truly about my induction. --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/john-asalon/message

The Beatles performed before 18,000 fans at the Convention Hall in Atlantic City, New Jersey, on August 30, 1964. Among those in attendance were Barry's aunt, Carole Hummel, and family friends Carol "Cris" Crisafulli Johnson, Joan Bacon, and Marie Falzone. Despite the fact that Barry has been a huge Beatles fan since high school, he finally found out about this while discussing our recent Tripping Walruses episode with his aunt! The night before the concert, they stayed at the Lafayette Motel. At 2:15 PM, they left in the back of a fish truck, and a short distance from the Convention Hall, they switched to their waiting tour bus. The Beatles performed their standard 12-song set: Twist And Shout, You Can't Do That, All My Loving, She Loves You, Things We Said Today, Roll Over Beethoven, Can't Buy Me Love, If I Fell, I Want To Hold Your Hand, Boys, A Hard Day's Night, and Long Tall Sally. After the show, The Beatles left the venue in a laundry truck, as their limousine was too conspicuous. That night, they stayed at the Marquis De Lafayette Hotel in nearby Cape May, where they stayed for a few days prior to their September 2nd concert in Philadelphia. During their stay in Atlantic City, John Lennon and Paul McCartney wrote two songs for the Beatles For Sale album: Every Little Thing and What You're Doing. Follow Barry or Abigail on Untappd to see what we're drinking when we're not on mic! Facebook | Instagram | Twitter | YouTube | Website | Email us --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/pops-on-hops-podcast/message

Dan Albert is joined by HaXxorIzed and Iggy, the host of TENGRIDOME, to commentate and discuss the first clash between the defensive savant and counterpunching prodigy James Toney and the wily and experienced all-terrain slickster Mike McCallum that took place on December 13, 1991 at the Convention Hall in Atlantic City, New Jersey. A bout that the Fight Site founder Kyle McLachlan would call "two-way technical", it is both a feast for the eyes and serves as excellent study material for those interested in learning more about the art of fighting. Follow Dan on Twitter: https://twitter.com/TypeWritingDA Follow HaXx on Twitter: https://twitter.com/HaXxorized Follow Iggy on Twitter: https://twitter.com/chunguskhan03 Follow us on Twitter: https://twitter.com/FightSitedotcom Check out our written content on the website: https://www.thefight-site.com/ Support us directly on Patreon for exclusive content and access to the discord: https://www.patreon.com/fightsite We now have exclusive merchandise at teespring.com/stores/the-fight-site-shop

Fifty-seven years ago tonight, a crowd of more than eight thousand people gathered at the Convention Hall arena in Miami Beach for what was to become one of the greatest sporting events of the twentieth century. They were there to watch a 22 year old youngster nicknamed the 'Louisville Lip' take on the world heavyweight boxing champ Sonny Liston. Cassius Clay won and took many by surprise. Susana speaks with Lightning Mike Angove about that historical fight.

In the latest episode of None But The Brave, Hal Schwartz and Flynn McLean discuss the very special holiday shows performed by Bruce Springsteen in Asbury Park’s Convention Hall from 2000-2003. They also talk about Bruce and The E Street Band’s appearance on this week’s Saturday Night Live and the incredible new archive release from 1975. 

If your world is Wichita, Kansas, the birthplace of Pizza Hut, White Castle and Kirstie Alley, there’s no more controversial building right now than Century II, a performing arts space built by John Hickman, a student of Frank Lloyd Wright, that’s under siege from new development. Century II Performing Arts & Convention Center was built to commemorate Wichita’s 1970 centennial. Designed by architect John Hickman, the very Modernist Century II was built provide a large and attractive civic center with a Concert Hall, Convention Hall, Exhibition Hall, and later an expo hall and an attached Hyatt Regency. Our guest today is one of the best and hardest-working Modern preservationists in the country. With the mind of an auditor, the precision of a concert violinist, and the number-crunching of an MBA, because she is all three, Celeste Bogart Racette leads the movement to save Century II from the bulldozer. She has a personal connection to the building - as her father was Mayor at Wichita when it was built. Later on, a few minutes with Kyle Bergman on the upcoming Architecture and Design Festival, this year online.

This is Frank Gaffney with the Secure Freedom Minute. The to-date unacknowledged elephant in the Democrats’ virtual convention hall has been the Chinese Communist Party. To be sure, the virus the CCP unleashed on us has gotten a lot of attention, but not the perpetrator of that crime against humanity that has killed 160,000 of us so far and devastated our country. It’s doubly odd because there is clearly no bigger threat to the security of the United States – and, therefore, no more important item on the agenda of the next Commander-in-Chief, whoever that may be, than Chinese Communism. An explanation for the nearly complete, collective neglect of this present and growing danger by the Democratic Convention, though, is even more troubling than the fact that it is happening: The Chinese Communist Party is actively pulling for a Biden presidency. We need to know why that’s so – and what it portends. This is Frank Gaffney.                                                 

WJT hosts their first guests! Grant and Ashley Golin are business owners and entrepreneurs with successful ventures including a gym, restaurant, and fitness competition with national recognition. The Golins open up about how they got started, their business philosophy, and adapting to and embracing change in the face of a global pandemic. Find out how they've flourished over the past 7+ years, the cost analysis of flying in palm trees from Florida for the Asbury Park Summer Games, and why Grant looks up to the Wawa business model. Be sure to check out their gym in Avon, New Jersey @btsfit, restaurant in Belmar, New Jersey @steakstand, and of course the can't-miss event hosted each June at Convention Hall in Asbury Park, New Jersey @asburyparksummergames Support our host network, DimlyWit Productions, at DimlyWit.com. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

¡ESTAMOS A 48 HORAS DE VIVIR LA FINAL DE LA SUPER BOWL LIV EN MIAMI!Nos juntamos en el Radio Row del Convention Hall de Miami para analizar la misteriosa foto que publica Tom Brady en su Instagram; aparece ¿marchándose? por el campo de Patriots y lo interpretamos como ¿la señal de su adiós? Mucha discusión del equipo al respecto además de la última hora de Kansas City Chiefs y San Francisco 49ers y la entrevista al gran actor Edward James Olmos

¡ESTAMOS A 48 HORAS DE VIVIR LA FINAL DE LA SUPER BOWL LIV EN MIAMI!Nos juntamos en el Radio Row del Convention Hall de Miami para analizar la misteriosa foto que publica Tom Brady en su Instagram; aparece ¿marchándose? por el campo de Patriots y lo interpretamos como ¿la señal de su adiós? Mucha discusión del equipo al respecto además de la última hora de Kansas City Chiefs y San Francisco 49ers y la entrevista al gran actor Edward James Olmos

In our Halloween special we go over the haunted history of convention Hall. The two shipwrecks of the New Era and SS Morro Castle that came to rest on the shore in the same exact spot on the Asbury Park beaches

Carson Attractions in Tulsa, Oklahoma, was the foremost ticket facility for events at the Maxwell Convention Center (now Cox Business Center) for over forty years. The story begins with the manager of famed Irish opera singer John Francis McCormack, who is given credit for the beginning of Carson Attractions in 1916. John McCormack was going out on tour for the first time in the United States and his manager wanted someone on the local scene to handle the promotion. The manager knew of Robert Boice Carson who was the music director at Kendall College (which later became the University of Tulsa). Robert Carson said, “We don’t know anything about presenting or promoting events,” and the manager said, “We will teach you.” Eventually, over the years, Robert and Beatrice Carson became involved in promoting many opera singers and choruses who were on tour. The events were held at Convention Hall, 105 West Brady, which became the Tulsa Municipal Theatre, and when the Mayo family bought it, it became the Brady Theatre or “the ole lady on Brady.” Richard (Dick) Carson, the grandson of Robert and Beatrice, spent many days in the 1940s as a youngster in Convention Hall while his parents also became involved in the business. And it is Dick Carson who becomes the storyteller of Carson Attractions—which includes Elvis, James Brown, Hello Dolly, ticket scalping, stock car racing, and hard work.

Saturday, August 4th Louie DeVito's Dance Factory at Convention Hall in Asbury Park, NJ with live performances from AMBER & Ultra Nate! Ticketmaster.com

'The Locals', Jeff Barnd, MIddle Twp. Mayor Michael Clark, Joe McLaughlin & Ed McDonough, talk with CM Chamber of Commerce Marketing Director Doreen Talley about the first Job Fair and Laurie Taylor, Cape May Director of Marketing and Terry Brown with upcoming city events including this season's concert series at Convention Hall.

The first Convention Hall no longer stands, but it paved the way for the current Convention Center that spans eight city blocks and boasts a variety of spaces to accommodate events from UMKC basketball games to car shows. Convention Hall opened on February 22, 1899 with a performance by John Phillip Sousa's band. It hosted other notable guests before burning to the ground in April 1900, just three months before the Democratic National Convention was slated to be held at the venue. The community banded together to raise funds and complete a brand new building to replace the Convention Hall in time to host the Democratic National Convention. After opening the second Convention Center just in time for the Democratic National Convention it went on to host more notable events, including a Republican National Convention, before being replaced by the Municipal Auditorium. The Municipal Auditorium, built in 1934, was more upscale and larger than the Convention Hall it replaced. Today, events hosted at one of Municipal Auditorium's four venues – Music Hall, Municipal Arena, The Little Theater and Exhibition Hall – are uniquely elegant, as all have been restored to their mid-century glamour. Since the building of the Municipal Auditorium more expansions and renovations have graced downtown Kansas City's convention complex. The most noteworthy expansion was the completion of Bartle Hall in 1994. Named for H. Roe Bartle, Bartle Hall boasts the largest column-free exhibit space and the four art deco inspired pylons that support the roof. The pylons and crowning sculptures, designed by artist R.M. Fisher, are a pillar of the Kansas City skyline. The first Convention Hall was an achievement for downtown Kansas City, providing space for large scale events and paving the way for today's convention complex that includes the Municipal Auditorium, Conference Center, Bartle Hall and a beautiful outdoor event space, Barney Allis Plaza. Explore all our spaces here. SHOW TIMES: February 28, Wednesday 5 p.m. – 10 p.m. March 1, Thursday 10 a.m. – 10 p.m. March 2, Friday 10 a.m. – 10 p.m. March 3, Saturday 10 a.m. – 10 p.m. March 4, Sunday 10 a.m. – 6 p.m. TICKETS: Wednesday – Sunday Adult – $11.00 Junior (8-12) – $6.00 Credit cards are accepted. Organizer Automobile Dealers Association of Greater Kansas City  Website: http://kcautoshow.com/

Join me as I virtually take you through the 2017 AWT Convention Hall. I speak with attendees and vendors to let you know what it is like to attend.

Join me as I take you inside the AWT 2017 Convention.

The Locals are joined by City of Cape May representatives Laurie Howey Taylor, Dir. of Marketing and veteran Event Specialist Terry Brown. Together we discuss the fantastic lineup of outstanding performers chosen by the City's entertainment committee this year, aided by professional booking agents. Hear fist hand the new nights for Rotary park concerts and the move to Wednesday nights in Convention hall. Learn which hometown favorite bands will play Rotary park this summer.

BOOM, daddy!  The East Side Dave And Son Wrestling Show returns with furious glory to discuss tonight's WWE Elimination Chamber pay-per-view!  Also, Dave and Stan talk about seeing NXT on Friday at Asbury Park's legendary Convention Hall!  It's the best wrestling podcast in the world.......The East Side Dave And Son Wrestling Show!!   BAM!

The Junkies have just returned from Atlantic City where we saw Betty Cantrell be named Miss America 2016!!!  In today's podcast, Carrie Lakey gives you the play-by-play summary of her weekend - describing what it was like to be at the Show Us Your Shoes Parade, seeing Vanessa Williams in Convention Hall, and what takes place behind the scenes during the commercial breaks!  Caution: There are massive amounts of name-dropping about to occur... Please exercise caution when listening to today's podcast (because the name you hear, just might be your own!)!

Tiny Speedoes, mistaken sexual orientations, stolen hats, gender confusion and hangovers abound in these tales of the convention scene. Hosts: Sam, Jeff and Scott  Sh’notes: the Girl Who Circumnavigated Navigated Fairyland in a Ship of her Own Making samurai pizza...Read more

Here is the first of several interviews that I was lucky enough to get at GenCon. I had the pleasure of playing a session of 'Godsend Agenda' last GenCon with my fellow AGC co-hosts, Mark and Chris, as well as some of the rest of the Rolemonkeys, and the guys from The Gamemaster Show. This year, Jerry brings us Hellas: Worlds of Sun and Stone. It's an awesome looking game with a deceptively simple mechanic that can handle anything. Also at the booth was Andy Kitkowski - selling Maid the Roleplaying Game - the first Japanese RPG to be translated and released in English.There's a special mystery guest too at the booth! ;)A GenCon story about Jerry - he is such a wonderful guy - there was a little girl with her Mom looking for some Bella Sara cards, and Jerry left his booth, and went hunting for cards - found some - and then went looking for them to make sure they got the cards. Enjoy the interview - and watch for the review of (at least) the QuickStart of Hellas! An Amazoran at the booth - Yes, an Amazoran, not a Drow, not a Twi'lek, and most definitely NOT a Smurf...Mick and I took some pics outside the Convention Hall - as she slays the beast!Links:Hellas: Worlds of Sun and Stone Godsend AgendaMaid RPG - a forum post about the game by AndySome of Jerry's inspiration came from TalislantaAll Games ConsideredThe RolemonkeysThe Gamemaster ShowDownload EpisodeYou can email us at:carolslgg@gmail.comjacquislgg@gmail.comstephslgg@gmail.comIntro music is "Made of Fiction" by Anemo located on PodShow Podsafe Music Network.End theme is "Jedi Girl" by T. Randolph Scott located on PodShow Podsafe Music Network.