Playing an instrument

I play flute in an amateur orchestra. We perform in public ten times a year. We are not a large ensemble, nor musicians of stature or importance. Many of the people who come to hear us play are our friends. The concerts are followed by an after party, featuring drinking and merriment. These are often the prelude to sex. Musicians have a reputation for sleeping around. It can be a fun exercise to see who pairs with whom at the end of the night. When the head rush, elation, and kinetic energy of a performance fills up the arteries and veins, the tension often demands a sexual release.

Gi, who plays French horn, extricated me from a tedious conversation with a violist’s friends. The pub we had chosen for the night’s festivities opens to a street from which various side alleys deviate. I wanted air, and as it was a lovely night, we took our bottles outside. Gi needed to piss, so he found a shadowy place and irrigated a stone wall. When he finished, before he could cover up, I went to my knees and took his cock into my mouth. He protested, though his penis stiffened almost at once. The coating of urine over the eye added a tinge of sharpness to the taste of his perspiration.

Working the trousers open, I lowered Gi’s pants. He passively let me. But he was alert to our location. Fretfulness and worry weighted his carriage. His eyes had a nervous lateral movement. Anxious about our surroundings, he looked as though he would flee at any moment. My fingers reached up into his shirt and smoothed softly down to dissipate the tenseness in his muscles. Gi kept his pubis and balls shaved. I lapped the sensitive skin on either side of his cock.

With the cloth pooled around his ankles, I turned my hand about the shaft and bobbed over the front third of his penis. Elevating my tongue against the underside, I washed the glans with mouthfuls of saliva.

Gi exhaled an expressive sigh.

Briefly withdrawing the erection from my lips, I licked wet stripes parallel to the veins along the bottom surface of the shaft, lapped especially at the frenulum, and returned to sucking him. My cheeks bowed inward. My tongue circled the crown and tasted precome there. Lips exerting pressure all around, I rotated my face to a 4/4 beat.

No longer nonplussed, he reached a hand into my bra and cupped my tits. His fingers also played with my ponytail.

He liked it when I held the cock vertical and sucked the balls beneath. Because the contact of my tongue with the perineum elicited such powerful moans, I concentrated my attention there, sweeping the flat tongue from side to side over that responsive patch of skin. The front of the tongue lifting to make a cup, I applied the point to the crease between the groin and the leg.

Gi collected stray tendrils of hair behind my ears. When he lowered the cock and held it out to me, I rubbed my nose along the pubis, planted a kiss over the groin, and returned to sucking the shaft with a simple up and down motion. My arms wrapped his legs, and I raised my eyes to him. Spit leaked from the circumference of my lips. The cobble in the mews bit into my kneecaps, but I cared not at all. Hands twisting over the base of the cock and on his balls, I straightened my posture and continued.

As I sucked him, I mused about how much I loved this act. I procure pleasure from having a lover’s shaft resident inside my lips. It is intrinsically a submissive gesture for me to be on my knees this way. Head lowered, I do my obeisance.

I hummed to a distant unheard music. It was a fugue in D minor. I stepped through the variations, modulating the tempo, accelerating, decelerating, employing more tongue, employing less, tightening the seal of the lips, sucking louder, sucking softer, sucking harder, sucking wetter. My movements became slurred. My movements were discrete and precise. My fingers played counterpoint over his balls. I pushed two fingers up against the perineum and rocked my hand from the wrist to apply a generous vibrato there. Letting his earnest sighs give me accompaniment, I gently raked teeth over the helmet. I scratched the insides of his thighs and performed a glide, eliding the notes as I did.

The penis slipped out of my lips with a plop. I swirled my tongue around the crown and placed little kisses over the lobes before swallowing him again. While I could throat Gi’s cock easily, I didn’t, dedicating myself only to the front part of the shaft and to the engorged head.

He came without warning me. The precipitate lurch of the flesh meant that the penis escaped my mouth. A volley of semen landed on my cheek. Quickly, I snatched the stem and snapped up the glans to capture the remainder of his come. The shaft pumped and extruded the semen, which layered over my tongue as a warm, salty, and welcome presence. I spread my jaws to exhibit it to him. Closing up again, I tongued the knob and sucked on it hard to extract the last drops from the aperture. My head swayed fractionally from left to right.

I swallowed and stuck out my tongue to show him that the semen had vanished into my esophagus. He helped me to my feet and pulled up his trousers. I took a swig of the beer. Because I like the texture, I smeared the semen that had striped my face into the skin. We rejoined our friends inside.

I had Gi’s scent in my nose through the night. I washed it away only in the shower the next morning.