Branch follows Poppy across the grass as she weaves through the crowds of trolls, all the way to the edge of the venue. He watches her spread out their blanket next to the rock wall that fences the area off, his eyebrow raised.

"You realize the stage is over there, right?" Branch says, pointing across the grounds in the direction they had come. They're so far back that there aren't even any other trolls nearby. "Or did you maybe want to get a little further away?" he adds, smirking.

Poppy rolls her eyes and sits down, plopping her bag down next to her. She wouldn't show him what was in it, but he really hopes there's snacks and drinks. "If we were much closer, you'd whine tomorrow about your ears ringing, and how those pesky creatures would be able to sneak up on you even better than usual."

Branch couldn't help but roll his eyes, but she's not wrong. He does have delicate ears. "Hey, you're the one who wanted to come to this concert, so if you're cool with being this far away, then so am I," he says, shrugging.

"This spot will be just fine, you'll see," she says in that sly way that she has. She pats the blanket. "Come on, sit down. They'll be starting soon."

Sure enough, the sun has nearly set, and the bright stage lights show the opening band getting ready. The Pop Queen immediately leans into him when he joins her, and he smiles when she turns her head and presses a kiss to his jaw.

He watches her smooth her dress across her lap in the fading light, admiring the smooth curves of her legs, then glances back up at the stage when the music starts. It's still loud, even from here, but the intensity is definitely far more bearable.

The stage is really far away though, and Branch finds himself squinting a little, trying to see, and Poppy laughs at him.

"What? I should have brought binoculars," he says.

"You won't be worrying about the view in a few minutes," Poppy says, and Branch isn't quite sure what that means. She must have something planned, he figures.

But he's learned it's best to just wait her out, so he leans back against the wall, stretching his legs out in front of him. It's fully dark now, the only light coming from the stage, and though it's kind of hard to tell, he's pretty sure they're still the only ones who've ventured this far back.

He's just starting to get into the music, nodding his head along to the beat, when Poppy slides into his lap.

"I had something else in mind tonight," she says before she leans in and kisses him.

And okay. If his wife wants to make out with him at this concert, then Branch is totally cool with that. He curls his fingers around her hips as she deepens the kiss, moaning low in the back of his throat. He loves kissing Poppy, he could do it for hours.

The Pop Queen pulls away after only a few minutes, though, and leans over to dig through her bag. Branch just tips his head back and tries to catch his breath. Poppy presses something into his hand then, and it takes him a half a second to realize he's holding a condom.

"You want to have sex?" he hisses. "Right now?"

"Yeah," Poppy responded acting like it was no big deal, and he can tell she's smirking. "Why, are you not up for it?" she asks, gently grinding down.

Branch is more than up for it. Just the idea of fucking here, where anyone could turn around and see them, sends a thrill of arousal through him. "You really think we can make this work?" he asks, sliding a hand up her inner thigh. The front of her underwear is damp, and he grins. She's obviously just as turned on by this idea as he is.

"I think we should try," she says, bucking forward against his hand. Then she says, "Mmm," as he pushes her underwear aside and brushes his fingertips against her, teasing at her clit.

She kisses him again, and tweaks his hard nipples before dragging her hands down to the front of his shorts. She manages to get them off, despite the fact that she's practically on top of him, and he shudders a little when she traces the length of him through his boxers.

She's obviously teasing him the way he's teasing her, so he lets his finger drift back, and circles her entrance before slowly pressing inside. She's wet, but still pretty tight, so he gently thrusts as he curls his finger forward, and Poppy arches into it.

She has him out of his boxers and is stroking him encouragingly by the time he works a second finger inside. He spreads them inside her, and she rocks into his hand even as she leans over and grabs something else from the bag.

He can't really see what it is, but he figures it out when her hand wraps around him again, this time cool and slick. Poppy strokes him a little, nipping playfully at his jaw as she does, then snags the condom from him and tears it open.

Branch tries to keep focused on pleasuring Poppy, but he gets a little distracted when she rolls the condom on, then slicks that up, too. The anticipation of having more than his fingers inside her, of getting her off, is still intense, even though they've been dating for more than a year.

"I'm ready," Poppy says, and squeezes the base of his cock. "Are you?"

"Yes," he says, his voice almost embarrassingly eager. "So ready."

Branch carefully pulls his fingers free, and Poppy shifts forward, lifting herself above him and then slowly lowering down. Branch isn't exactly small, and she takes her time, easing him in inch by inch in little tiny thrusts.

Branch draws his knees up and just tries to keep still, not wanting to rush her, no matter how good it feels. She finally sinks all the way down, but she doesn't move.

Trying to distract himself, Branch says to his wife, "I can't believe you planned this whole thing without telling me. Without even hinting." His voice isn't quite as steady as he wants it to be, but he figures it's a good effort.

"I wanted it to be a surprise," The Pop Queen murmurs, and then slowly starts to roll her hips.

"Well, mission accomplished," he manages to get out.

Branch grips his shoulders for leverage, presses her face against his neck as she starts to move a little faster. He lets his hands stroke along her thighs and up to her ass, feeling her muscles working as she rides him.

It's sexier than it has any right to be.

Poppy starts lifting herself up a little in time with the rocking of her hips, and that's clearly hitting just the right spot for her. That just gets Branch turned on more, and he tenses his thighs as he tries to resist bucking up into her. Poppy's just getting into a good rhythm when the opening act for Bad Hair Day finishes their final song, and her low, breathy moan seems incredibly loud in the sudden near-silence of the venue.

The couple freeze, and Branch peers into the darkness around them, trying to figure out if any troll is looking their quiet is rapidly filled by murmured conversation as the band gets set up on stage, and Branch feels like he's drawn drum-tight, waiting.

He desperately wants to finish this, but knows they need the noise of the performance to cover up the sounds they'll make. He's halfway to orgasm, and that's getting him closer and closer to not caring if anyone does hear them.

"Think anyone heard?" Poppy whispers into his ear, and then, being the kind of person she is, she begins to move in tiny little jolts that make Branch ache, longing for more.

"Probably not," he breathes out.

The minutes seem to stretch on endlessly, but finally the band starts playing, and Branch breathes out sigh of relief.

Meanwhile Poppy picks up right where they left off, and Branch's toes curl at the sudden rush of sensation. She starts building up the speed, bouncing a little with every thrust down, and the teal blue troll lets out a groan, his eyes fluttering shut.

The rock wall is digging into his back, and Poppy's hands are gripping painfully tight onto his shoulders, but none of that matters. All he cares about now is getting them both off.

What he really wants is to tip them sideways, put Poppy on her back so he can move in the rhythm they're both craving, but that would destroy the illusion of pretending they're not having sex in public. Though he's very sure that if someone saw them now—Poppy on his lap, her body sinuous and graceful as she moves, while his head is tipped back, his hands grasping desperately at her hips—they would have absolutely no doubt about what they're doing.

But it's about the idea, more than the reality.

And he knows that Poppy likes to be in control sometimes.

And honestly, he loves it when she pushes him down on the bed and gets herself off just the way she wants, sometimes riding herself to multiple orgasms and usually managing to get Branch to come somewhere along the way.

So he doesn't even suggest that they move, but decides to help out, since he can feel his own orgasm drawing closer. He brings one of his hands over from her hip, and braces it on her stomach instead, letting his thumb press in little circles on her clit.

It's an awkward angle, but he knows he won't have to do it long, based on the, "Oh, fuck," Poppy moans against his neck.

Poppy's movements get faster and more erratic, and he knows she's in the final stretch. He keeps rubbing with his thumb, adding pressure and pace, listening to the changes in the quiet, breathy sounds she's making as she gets closer.

And suddenly she's there, coming hard as her body jerks against his, and she clenches tight around him in waves. He's on a hair-trigger himself now, but he keeps touching her, letting her work through the aftershocks of her orgasm.

Then it's his turn, and his hips surge up, pressing deep inside her as he seeks that last bit of pleasure. The pop queen begins to grind down on him as she whispers filthy things into his ear, and it only takes a few more thrusts before his abs are clenching, and his cock is pulsing inside her as he comes.

He shudders through it, and he and Poppy stay that way for several moments, panting together in a post-orgasmic haze. Then she kisses his neck and carefully lifts herself off, laying down on the blanket and stretching out her legs with a relieved sound.

Branch pulls the condom off, and is just wondering what to do with it when Poppy, obviously prepared for everything, hands him a plastic bag. He zips the condom up in it, hands it back, then lays down next to Poppy, feeling all his muscles relax gratefully. As an afterthought, he gently tucks himself back into his pants.

"You know," he says, gently nudging her with his elbow. "If anybody asks me how this concert was, I'm going to have to tell them it was amazing."

"You're damn right," Poppy says, laughing, and pulls him into kiss.