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Cool Blogs: STREET BLOWJOBS wiggled out of the booth and Ben eagerly followed. The music had changed to a sensual New Flamenco tune. Ben grabbed me and pulled me close. Both his arms wrapped around me as he reached down and cupped my ass. He ground against me, and I could feel his cock harden near my groin. I wilted against him, letting his strength hold me, press into me, and excite me. My heartbeat plucked out the rhythm of the guitarist, forcing fiery blood to pulse through me. I rotated my hips to match his, never breaking the contact. We swayed in a body lock without talking, until the song ended. Another song followed, and another. All seemingly chosen to inject fire into our veins.