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My eyes were tired, my fingers sore and callused. I turned on my phone and looked at the time. It was quarter to six. I had been practicing my cello in my university practice room for over two and half hours. I stood up, felt all of my vertebrae crack from my tailbone up. I grabbed my water bottle and took a long swig from it and heard three knocks on the door.
I turned around and saw my orchestra stand partner, Jack. My heart fluttered.
Jack was handsome. Very handsome. He had thick brown hair that was often disheveled, and thick brown eyebrows to match. His eyelashes made every woman jealous, as they were long and thick. His eyes were dark hazel and very intense. Every time he looked at me, I felt as though he wasn’t just looking at my face, but into my soul (I know, it’s cheesy, but very much true). He wasn’t skinny, nor fat. He was just the way I like them: with meat on their bones. Built.
He was a good cellist. I first met him my senior year of high school. He’s a year ahead of me. We were in the university orchestra. We hit it off immediately. He was funny and smart.
“Hey Sara,” he said.
“Hi. What’s up?” I asked.
“Taking a break from practicing.”
“Ah. Same here.”
He came in, shut the door, and sat on the piano bench next to my cello chair.
“Ugh. That piece. I’ve been drilling it for hours. Still can’t get the treble part for shit.”
“Same here. My fingers are killing me.”
“Fair. Hey, do you want to go grab a bite to eat at the commons? I’m starving.”
My heart, once again, fluttered uncontrollably. I didn’t understand why, though. He obviously has a girlfriend. I mean, his talent, looks…everything. He would never settle for a girl like me. I had boring blonde hair, green eyes, defined eyebrows, and I was short, and, to be completely honest, a little fat. There’s nothing a man would like about me, except for maybe one thing: I have huge boobs. Big. Annoying. Boobs. People often ask me (rudely) how I even play the cello. I just shake my head and walk away. But, the point is, I think guys would only like me for my boobs. They’re pigs.
“Yeah, let’s get something to eat,” I said.
We walked out of my practice room and I locked the door.
“Two weeks ’til the concert,” he said as I pulled my cello case down the hallway. You ready?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose.”
I put my cello in my locker and locked it.
On the way to the commons, he talked about orchestra and his classes. We’ve talked a bit here and there, but nothing notable. He had no idea that I thought he was the sexiest human on this planet.
After we got our plates of food, we sat down at a table in the dining area.
“Twenty Secrets,” he said, smashing a potato with his fork.
“What?” I asked, putting dressing on my salad.
“Let’s play Twenty Secrets. It’s a way for us to ask what we want.”
I shifted in my chair, slightly uncomfortable. I didn’t like the idea of sharing secrets.
“Alright…” I said.
“Don’t worry. I won’t tell a soul,” he said, his eyes glistening.
“I’ll go first,” he said. “I’ll start off easy. What’s your middle name?”
“Ann,” I answered.
He nodded, “Your turn.”
I sat and thought for a moment.
“Umm…” I said, unable to think. “I don’t know.”
“Sure you do,” he prodded, “Just ask me anything you want. I won’t lie.”
I stared at his face. Should I go all in and ask him everything I want to know? Or should I go nice and slow and ask the simple things: What’s your favorite food? What’s your favorite football team? What’s your favorite solo piece?
“Do you have a girlfriend?” I blurted. My face burned with embarrassment.
“Nope,” he said flat out.
I scrutinized his face, my eyes narrowing.
“Nope,” he repeated.
“Really?” I asked, still suspicious.
I felt a bead of sweat bead on my neck.
“Your turn,” I said.
“Okay,” he sighed. “What’s your bra size?”
I stared at him for a moment, “Excuse me?”
“You have to answer,” he smiled.
“You have to answer,” he repeated.
I sighed and felt my cheeks ignite again.
“Double D,” I said, refusing to look him in the eye.
I saw him nod from the corner of my eye.
“Your turn,” he whispered.
“Okay, why did you ask that?” I asked, folding my arms over my chest.
“You can’t ask that,” he said.
“Because it doesn’t count! You can’t ask a question about a question that’s been asked.”
I scoffed, “Where Ankara Escort exactly is the rule book for Twenty Secrets, hmm?”
He tapped his head with his index finger, “Here.”
I was getting irritated. Who does he think he is going from What’s your middle name? to What’s your bra size?
“You’re really rude,” I said.
“How so?” he asked, eyes wide.
I stood up.
“I’m late. I have to go study,” I said.
“Sara,” he said, standing up, too.
“Jack, I have to—“
“Because I was curious. I wanted to know what your bra size is because that’s just who I am. I just wanted to know. Twenty Secrets is supposed to be hard. You have to answer things you wouldn’t always want to answer,” he explained.
I thought for a second.
“Okay,” I said, setting my plate back down and staring at him, “Are you a virgin?”
I felt my eyes swell. I nodded and started to gather my things. I didn’t think he’d be so willing to answer such a personal question. Then again, like I said earlier, guys are pigs. They don’t consider their virginity to be a virtue like most women. Like me.
“Are you?” he asked.
I looked at him for a moment, wondering why no one was looking at my head as it went up in flames. I quickly gathered my things and head for the garbage.
“Sara,” he called.
“Yes. Yes I am,” I said, and walked out of the commons.
Later that night, I was going over my music in my dorm room and my phone vibrated. It was a text from Jack.
Should we continue the game? it said.
I picked up my phone and started texting.
I put my phone back down and looked back to my music. Moments later, my phone buzzed again.
Jack, shut the hell up already.
I put my phone down again, promising not to pick it up again. I had a concert in less than a day and I had to study the rest of this music.
But, sure enough, my phone buzzed again and I couldn’t help but look at it.
I think you’re beautiful.
My heart stopped.
This time, I kept my phone in my hands, staring at it and waiting for his name to pop up.
I told you I wouldn’t lie.
I looked over at my sleeping roommate. I wanted to ask her if this guy was for real, or if I should just shut off my phone and do what I have to do. But, for some reason, I was too intrigued to put my phone down. I kept thinking to myself that he better be worth it because I was wasting precious time to talk to him.
Why do you think I’m beautiful?
Look at you. I don’t believe for one second that you’re not a virgin. You’re the liar.
I’m not lying.
Haha, very funny.
I smiled. Either he was good with his words, or he was serious. I couldn’t really tell.
I swallowed up my fears and typed next, I think you’re handsome.
I waited for him to respond.
Yes. I do.
You just are.
More handsome than your last boyfriend?
I’ve never had a boyfriend.
After I sent that text, I waited nearly ten minutes with sweaty palms waiting for him to answer.
L I A R.
I shook my head and put my phone face down. I was not going to be running in circles and explaining myself for the rest of the night. I had priorities.
The next morning, I had a morning rehearsal. I got up and threw my hair on top of my head. I pulled on my comfiest pants and looked at the clock. I had only gotten four hours of sleep. I wanted to slap myself across the face for wasting so much sleep time to talk to Jack.
When I arrived at the concert hall, Jack was already there. He was rehearsing a piece. My heart felt like it had gotten an electric shock.
“Hi, Jack,” I said as I sat down with my cello.
“Hey. How’d you sleep?” he asked.
He nodded, “Sorry about last night. I didn’t mean to keep you up.”
I was ready grab my rosin and put in on my bow when he put his hand on my thigh. I looked up at him, trying to control the surprise in my eyes. He had a tiny, innocent smile on his face. He pat it and then brought his hand back to his cello.
His touch lingered on the nerves of my thigh. I could feel the gaps between his fingers. I could practically feel the pulse from his hand, slow and steady. Mine, on the other hand, was racing. My heart beating out of my chest, my hands sweating, and, to my surprise, Balgat Escort my pussy was dripping. I was a virgin, but I knew pleasure. I was a frequent masturbator; I did it to relieve stress…of which I had a lot of.
To be honest, I did picture Jack a lot of the time I masturbated. I didn’t tell a soul, but I pictured him. I pictured him bending me over and taking me, me out of all control. I wanted him to dominate me.
“Sara!” the conductor screamed.
I nearly fell out of my seat, my hands shaking.
“Sorry!” I choked out. Jack was staring at me.
“Let’s not lolly gag, please! We’ve got a lot to do!”
I nodded furiously and focused on the music in front of me. From the corner of my eye, I saw Jack still staring. I ignored it.
During break, I set my cello down and headed into the lounge to get a cup of water. My throat was hurting, like I had swallowed sand.
What the hell happened earlier? I thought to myself.
“Hey,” I heard.
I turned around and saw Jack with a cup.
“You alright?” he asked as he pulled the nozzle of the water dispenser.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.”
He took a drink and stared at me.
“Liar.” he said.
“No, really. I’m okay.”
He stared at me for a moment.
“Okay, then,” he said, and walked out of the room. I let out a large gush of air and composed myself before heading back out to rehearse.
Later that night, it was time to perform. I had put on my floor length black dress and curled my hair. I put a little bit of an effort into my make up. I wanted to look pretty for Jack.
When I got there, I walked into the storage room and put my cello case down. I discreetly looked around the room to find Jack, but couldn’t pick him out of the crowd of tuxedos. I looked down and started to get my cello out.
“Hi,” I heard in front of me.
I glanced up and saw shiny black shoes in front of my case. I stood up abruptly and looked at him. He was clean shaven and his hair was freshly trimmed. He smelled—intoxicating. It was a light scent of cologne; not too heavy. His eyes were big.
“You look—” he started.
“Amazing,” I cut off.
“No, you look amazing,” I clarified.
“Well, I was talking about you. You look…beautiful. Not that you didn’t before, but now…you really clean up!”
“Gee, thanks,” I said, lightly tapping him on his shoulder. For the first time in a long time, I felt beautiful. I actually felt like he actually wanted me.
“Well, let’s get in there, shall we?” he asked, holding up his bent arm so I could take it.
I laced my arm through his and we walked into the hall for the concert.
At intermission, Jack and I walked out to get a drink. Due to the intensity of the music that we had just played, we were both a tad sweaty. A drop of sweat rolled down his temple. I felt my hairline prickle.
“Whooooooo,” he sighed.
“Right? I’m dying of heat,” I said.
He looked back at the door.
“Want to step outside?” he asked.
We walked outside and the crisp air wrapped around me like a silk blanket. I wrapped my arms around my body and looked up at the night sky.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked.
I kept gazing at the stars, locating all of the cancellations that I knew. As I was looking, I saw him turn to me.
“I mean it, you know,” he whispered.
I looked down to him.
“What?” I asked.
“That you look beautiful.”
I blushed. “Thank you.”
I started to bring my face back up to the sky when he caught my face with his hand. He pulled my face down to look at him. Even in the darkness, the intensity in his eyes lit up.
The world froze. His hand seared against my face. Out of nowhere, I pushed closer to him and wrapped my arms around his neck, pushing my lips into his.
I could not stop. We kissed with such hunger, his hands pulling me into his body. I tangled my hands in his hair and tasted him. I wanted to melt into him; to become a part of him.
We kissed on the steps, tiny moans escaping our throats. His hand clutched my thigh, pulling up and exposing my leg. Being so close, I felt his penis erect against my pubic bone.
He pulled away, gasping, “Come with me.”
He wiped his lips and grabbed my left wrist. He whipped the door open and we charged through the people.
“Where are we going?” I asked, but he didn’t hear. Everyone was bustling around us.
Eventually, we got to a hallway that had had Çankaya Escort doors lining them. He brought be down to the very last one and opened the door.
“Why isn’t this locked?” I asked.
“It never is,” he said, “I go here during intermission, all the time. Now get in.”
I walked through the door and he shut it, locking it from the inside. It was a storage room for theater things. He sped up to me and grabbed my face, pulling it to his.
“I want you,” he gasped against my neck. Goosebumps rose on my skin. “I want you right now.”
“No, Sara, I need you right now. I want to fuck you.”
I stared at him, stunned. My lips slightly pulsed.
“From the day I first saw you, I wanted you. Every time I sit next you, I have to think of ugly things so my boner doesn’t rip through my pants. I can’t help it. You’re so sexy.”
“You’re lying…” I said.
“No, I’m not,” he said, eyes wild.
He pulled off his bow tie and started undoing his shirt. He walked up to me and started kissing my neck, and my legs grew weak. I wanted to fuck Jack. I wanted him inside me. I wanted him to shove his cock inside me. I wanted him to make me scream.
“Do you want me?” he asked, ducking his head to look in my eyes.
He took my dress and pulled it down, exposing my black bra. He sighed, his knees bending as he put his lips to my breasts, sucking hard.
“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this,” he said, a pained expression on his face.
He pulled the straps of my bra down, completely exposing my breasts. My nipples got hard from the cold draft and he cradled them in his hands.
Looking at me, he delicately caressed them. He bent down and started flicking my right nipple with his tongue. I gasped, my pussy soaking my underwear.
I felt daring. I took his grabbed his waistband and pulled him closer to me. He moaned as he watched me unbutton his pants and pull them down. His cock popped up over the waistband pointing at me through his briefs. I felt the wetness of my pussy start to drip down my thigh.
“Big?” he asked.
I didn’t answer. I wanted it. I wanted it now.
I pulled off my bra and underwear and then pulled down his pants. I took his cock and shoved it in my mouth. Little did I realize, I was severely inexperienced.
“Oh my GOD,” he cried, bracing himself against a table.
I went with my intuition. I went up and down the shaft, swirling my tongue each time I got to the head. His knees trembled and he grabbed my head. He started pounding into my throat, my gag reflex trying to push him out, but he didn’t stop. He moaned as it slammed into my tonsils, wet sounds escaping my lips.
When he pulled my head off, I gasped for air. He pushed his mouth to mine and picked me up, placing me on the table, my legs spread wide open.
“You’re so wet,” he whispered. I could feel my wetness pooling down over my asshole and onto the table.
He didn’t even warn me. He shoved his condom-less cock into me, ripping my pussy nearly in half. I let out a scream and he slapped his hand over my mouth.
He pounded into me, my body crushed up against the wall. He put his hand on my tit and squeezed it harshly in his hand, his eyes locked with mine, moans shooting between his clenched teeth.
“I’m gonna cum,” he said.
He pulled out and shot his load all over my stomach. I watched as his eyes rolled back, his mouth open. His body trembled and he fell to his knees. I got off the table and cradled his head in my lap as he convulsed in ecstasy.
“Shh, it’s okay,” I soothed. He settled and looked up at me, pulling my face to his once again.
“Are you bleeding?” he asked.
I wiped my hand on my sore pussy and looked at the trail of red it had left behind on my palm.
“I’ll take care of it,” I said. He started kissing me again.
Five minutes! we heard someone yell.
Five minutes? Five minutes to…OH GOD.
“Hurry! Get dressed!” I said quickly getting my underwear back on.
Jack hurried to get every piece of his tuxedo back on. I helped him straighten his bow tie, and he tidied my hair. We both kind of looked like hell.
“You, eh hem…” he said, pointing to my neck.
I looked in a mirror on the back of the door and saw a gigantic hickey on my collarbone. I quickly dabbed it with makeup and we ran into the concert hall. My conductor’s face as we entered late was torn between curiosity and anger. Part of me could tell he knew what we were doing. I was glad of it. It made me feel slutty.
We got back into position and Jack looked at me. He leaned over and gave me kiss and then sat back in his chair. I was looking out in the audience when he got my attention. He raised his eyebrow, tilted his cello, and I saw the enormous bulge in his tuxedo pants. He smiled and winked. I knew exactly what we were doing when we got back to the dorms. I couldn’t wait.
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