Music In My Soul

One of the perks of my job is that I don't just do theatre; I also get to watch over concerts.  I think I mentioned this in the past.  But it's nice because I get to hear music and not have to do a whole lot.

Sometimes, though, I wish I read music better than I do.  For instance, last week (yes, I'm just getting to this because I'm busy busy busy) we had an orchestra come in to do a concert, and they wanted various cues to go with the music, and in lieu of a cue sheet they handed me a score with markings.  I had to say, rather shame-facedly, "Sorry, I don't read music well enough to make this work."  I can pick out notes, but hand me a full orchestral score and ask me to read it live and you might as well be asking me to read Sanskrit bomb-disposal instructions while a timer ticks down.

They were understanding and said they'd station someone with me to give me the cues.  I figured, okay, no problem.  For the rehearsal they sent up the stage manager, who I've met several times and is very nice, but who really has better things to be doing than babysitting me through the cues.  I could tell she needed to be elsewhere, but we worked out most of the cues and figured out what needed to be called when.  Still, to be safe, for the performance she said she would send an underling up.

So day of the performance dawns and up comes this cute little thing, probably just out of college.  Definitely not the type I'd normally go for though.  I like 'em slim, and she was on the heavy side.  But she had a cute face and she was curvy.  We got to chatting and it turned out she was a theatre geek from her highschool days, albeit that she was more a musician than an actor.  It was a pleasant conversation, and she was pleasant to talk to largely because she was perky without being grating.  Just cheerful.  I guess I needed cheer.

We hit it off so well that we decided, over dinner break (because of course there were two shows, but I'm not complaining because hours are hours), to continue our conversation over food.  I was in no way trying to seduce this girl, I wish it to be known.  Like I said, not really my type and I wasn't really looking for anything anyway.  Just a nice person to talk to.  Reminded me a little bit of some people I haven't seen in a while.

We got our food, vacated the booth because we both agreed that we were on break and thus shouldn't be at work where we could be found and made to do things, and found an out-of-the-way spot (there are so many in the building) and ate and chatted.  The conversation turned a little blue, nothing major, just some joking about sex and girlfriend-type talk.  I confessed to being a switch-hitter and she admitted that she had dabbled in the Sapphic arts, and I'm not talking poetry.

Then she said, "So, plenty of time before we have to be back.  Want to fuck?"

Just like that.  Perky as ever, totally cheerful, completely innocent.  Normally I'm the one being brash and forward.

"Really?"  I couldn't quite believe it.  It wasn't like it had come totally out of the blue, but it also wasn't like we'd been going down that road.

"You're hot, I'm horny, we've got a bit of time.  You seem like you could use a little sex."

It was actually both refreshingly honest and at the same time amazing because she was saying it in the same tone of voice and with the same demeanor that she had been saying everything else.  Like it was the most normal thing in the world.  And while I get that from some people, it doesn't happen often.

I think she took my hesitation for something other than it was.  "Oh, don't worry, I'm not clingy," she said.  "And if you're not into it, that's okay."

I reassured her that that wasn't what I was thinking at all.  "Do you do this often?" I asked.

"You mean fuck girls?"

"No, just fuck random people."

"You're not random.  We've gotten to know each other."  She laughed.  "I guess I came on a little strong."

"I just wasn't expecting it."

"Sorry, I have problems with that sometimes.  When you look like I do and you want sex as bad as I do, you learn some bad habits I guess."

I think she was thinking that sex was off.  "No, I appreciate forwardness," I said.  "And what do you mean, 'When you look like I do?'  You're gorgeous."  I was flattering her a little, but while she wasn't my type, I'm really not as picky as I sometimes seem.  She was very attractive, just in a way I don't normally go for.  But if it's being thrown in my lap like this, I certainly wasn't going to refuse.

She appreciated the flattery, even though I don't think she really believed me.  Which is fair, because I wasn't being entirely up-front.  Still, now that things were on the table, I totally wanted to fuck.

It wasn't tender.  We kept a lot of clothes on, in case someone happened to stumble upon us.  The building was pretty deserted, most people having gone for dinner, but it seemed wisest to be cautious.  I wound up keeping pretty much everything in place because I was in my work clothes.  She was in a skirt and button-up blouse, and all she had to do was unbutton and pull down her panties.

She was, as I said, a little on the heavy side, but it wasn't flab; she was just built bigger.  Curves, so many curves.  A little tummy, but her hips were soft and firm, her skin smooth to the touch.  Her breasts were very nice, enormous, probably into the double letters, and once I got the bra down over them they didn't sag at all.  Full breasts, warm and pliable to the touch, pink nipples of a proportionate size to her breasts, already hard before I even started sucking on them.

I didn't see her cunt at first, just kept suckling her nipples, which she was definitely enjoying, then moved my hand up the skirt.  Her pussy was smooth as silk, no stubble, no bush, just puffy lips and a wet opening.  I started on her clit a little too fast (bad habits of my own from my most recent lovers all being fairly clit heavy) and she gasped, "Oh, gentle."  So I slipped my fingers into her, feeling the wetness ooze all around, and played it nice and gentle until she was breathing very heavy and I felt like I would like a better look at the goods.

She lay back, legs spread, and I pushed her skirt up around her waist, seeing the creamy thighs in passing as I dove into her snatch.  She tasted lightly of cinnamon.  No idea where that came from, but it wasn't unpleasant.  Once I was licking, she let me pay a bit more attention to her clit and I eventually drove her over the edge, although I was still being incredibly gentle.  She doesn't like it rough, that's for certain, and I had to restrain myself a bit.  Not that I minded.  She wasn't the easiest woman to get off I've ever been with by a long shot, but it also wasn't terribly difficult; I just had to figure out what buttons to push and then push them gently.

Her orgasm was worth it though; she tensed up on my fingers like a vice, let out two sharp gasps, and then melted.  Very nice, very feminine, very explosive in a way I like an orgasm sometimes.

After I let her bask in the afterglow for a minute or two, she wanted to do the same for me, but by that point it seemed like we were getting closer to time and there was no way I was going to cum under pressure.  "Hold that thought," I said when she went to take off my T-shirt.

"But you didn't get any."

"Are you free after the concert?"

She laughed.  "I think I might be," she said.

So we cleaned up as best we could, although I think we still smelled a little of sex.  No one mentioned it however, and we did the concert as normal.  And then we lost track of each other in the hustle and bustle of breaking down the chairs and stands and so forth, and I honestly thought she'd gone home until she came up behind me and said, "So, here or somewhere else?"

Fortunately there was no one close enough to remark on this.  Damn but she's forward.  Still, she knew as well as I did that no one was listening.  "Your choice.  My place is a bit far."  I didn't say anything about Sveta, although maybe I should have.  But it was a bit far, and Sveta was probably already asleep at that point.

"So's my place, unfortunately."

"Well, I've got the keys, so I guess here it is.  Meet me at our dinner spot in 10."

Load-out completed, we met up in our hidey hole.  "Now, you take your clothes off and let me see that cute butt," she said.  And I slipped into a bit of a submissive role.  She's short, spunky, and authoritative.  I'm down.  Plus, she didn't keep her clothes on either, so it wasn't like I had to strip for her: we just both got naked.

Worth it.  I'd seen parts but not the whole.  I might revise my types a little, because she was gorgeous naked.  I wanted to go down on her again, honestly, but she pushed me back firmly and started kissing every square inch of my body.  When she got to my pussy, she was adequate.  She's a dabbler, and it shows, but she knows how, just lacks practice.

I faked an orgasm.  I'm terrible, but with my present circumstances, I sometimes have to, particularly when I don't want to go into my medical history and I don't want people to feel bad.  It wasn't that she wasn't turning me on at all; she would have easily made me cum were I my old self.  But she'd been at it for long enough and it just wasn't happening in the orgasm department, so I cut to the chase, so to speak, and let her feel like her hard work was appreciated.

All I really wanted to do was eat her out again because it had been plenty of fun the first time.  But I forced myself to go slowly, to pay plenty of attention to her breasts, which are very sensitive but seem to accept a degree of roughness which her pussy doesn't.  I went down on her, enjoying her pussy, and then thought to myself, "Why the hell not?" and started running a finger lower until I was toying with her asshole.

"Oh, you are a mind-reader," she said enthusiastically, and I wished I'd brought a toy.  But instead I got a finger up her ass, gently working her clit with my tongue while gently stroking inside with two fingers.  She wasn't tight, but I still had to be gentle.  And feeling her cum with my finger in her pussy and ass was definitely fun; it was the same sensation, but multiplied by two.  And this time I didn't let up, and she didn't stop me, so I was able to get her off again in short order.

And then we kissed, which was actually the first time we'd kissed.  Like I said, it wasn't particularly tender.

She wanted to know if I wanted more, and I told her that I was pretty much done for the evening but that if she wanted more... and she laughed and said, "No, I think I'm going to have trouble walking as it is."

We kissed again before we left, like she'd decided that it was okay to kiss me for some strange reason, and then she said, "Well, until next time."  And we left it at that.

Thing is, this particular orchestra is in the theater fairly regularly.  I'm not going to push it, but if she comes looking for more, I'm definitely okay with that.

I'm still a little surprised, honestly.  It didn't seem like it was going to happen like that at all.  She seemed very innocent.  Let me tell you, she is not.  But the innocent appearance makes her even more attractive because I'm a sicko pervert.  I might invite her to my house next time.  I bet Sveta would wake up for that.