Monday, September 16, 2024

The Tenor Virtuoso: Part 1

 Rob goes to college and meets Steffi

by senorlongo. Listen to the Podcast at Connected.

 

INTRODUCTION

I was three when I started singing in church and even though I couldn’t read the words I could remember enough from week to week to sing right along with the adults. By five I was leading the youth choir, singing loud and clear during services and practicing almost daily at home during the week.

At seven I was encouraged to audition for the faculty at a major school of music in Manhattan and found myself on an early morning train from my home in Pelham for the twenty minute ride to Grand Central Station in Manhattan and from there a subway to Lincoln Center for the short walk to the auditorium.



I was asked to sing two songs; I chose ‘Danny, Boy” and “Oh Holy Night,” singing both a cappella. I especially loved “Oh Holy Night.” It’s so hard to sing well and I could really show off my power and range; seven years old and I already had an ego! The judges must have liked it because they offered me a scholarship. From then on I spent every Saturday during the school year taking voice lessons, learning how to breathe and enunciate, the importance of good posture, and how to sing from my diaphragm rather than my mouth. It took me less than two years to be able to hold a note for more than two minutes.

I gave my first professional concert when I was thirteen; a combination of rock tunes and old fashioned folk songs from the fifties and sixties. I was able to earn more than $40,000 that first year and even more the following year when I was a high school freshman. I hit the big time my senior year when I was featured on a PBS special. After that I was in high demand.

I learned to play several instruments, but other than the acoustic guitar, my choices were considered, well; bizarre. I loved the idea of the harp. It was surprisingly similar to the guitar, but the tone of the notes was different; richer and earthier. My girlfriend had an orgasm every time I played a glissando. It was actually funny watching her writhe on the couch or floor while I strummed. One of the great things about the glissando; it could go on forever. Sometimes I tortured her by continuing for several minutes. She ruined more skirts that way. My other choice was the mandolin. It was also similar to the guitar, but much smaller, making the notes much higher and the tone tinnier. I loved the way it sounded.

The people at the music school were disappointed when I selected a small university in the greater Boston area. Truthfully, I was tired of taking voice lessons. I wanted a well-rounded education, including some courses in business administration and finance which I hoped would help me to manage the money I expected to earn in my singing career.
Knowing that I still had to practice daily I bought an old house in Medford near the university, remodeling a large porch in the rear into a soundproof studio. I hired a local couple, Joe and Carla Romeo, to handle the cleaning, yard maintenance, and cooking. All this work was finished over the summer. I was ready on both my educational and occupational fronts by the time school began.

CHAPTER 1

I was finalizing a contract with a big-time Boston orchestra, sitting in the business office and leafing through page after page. I’d done this before and my agent had already approved the agreement so this was more a formality than anything else. I was only half listening when the secretary walked in. “Stan, I’ve got another request from the music department at Malden High School. They’d like a musician and a singer, if possible.”

I looked up. “Malden? Isn’t that near where I’m going to school? I’d be happy to do it if a Thursday is okay. That’s the only day I don’t have any classes.”

“That’s awfully good of you to volunteer, Robert. Most of the orchestra members hate these high school requests. Gwen, check with the school and if Thursday is good for them we’ll happily send Robert out there. We’ll cover your gas and lunch, but I’m afraid I can’t pay you for it.”

“That’s okay. Think you could transport a harp to the school for me? I’ll bet most of the kids have never really heard one.” I signed the contract and left. They knew where to find me.

Thursday was fine with the teacher so I made arrangements to spend the entire day there the third week of September. I rose early, ate a big breakfast courtesy of Mrs. Romeo and carried my guitar/mandolin backpack out to my car. I arrived at the school just after 8:00, walking directly to the main office. “Hi, I’m Robert Kerwood to see Mrs; .” I pulled the paper from my pocket, “okay; Mrs. Sherman.”

“Steffi, your musician is here. Just go with Steffi, Mr. Kerwood, and welcome to Malden High School.” I thanked her and turned to see my guide. Whoa! She was really cute and even hotter.

“Wow, are you really Mr. Kerwood? When we saw that harp yesterday all of us figured you’d be like ninety.”

“Yup, that’s me; eighteen going on ninety.” I grinned as she laughed heartily.

“Boy, are the girls going to be surprised. C’mon, Mr. Kerwood.”

“I think things will be a lot better if you’ll just call me Rob. You make me sound like I AM ninety.”

“Okay, Rob,” she said as she led me down the crowded hallway. We were barely twenty feet down the hallway when she asked, “Can I ask you a question?”

“I think you just did, but I’ll bet I know what you want to ask; why the harp?”

“Yeah; that seems like an old person’s instrument.”

“Let me ask you a question. Why do guys my age do anything?”

She laughed. “That’s easy; for girls.”

“Right, and that’s why I play the harp. I had a girlfriend the last couple of years and I could give her an orgasm every time just by playing a glissando.”

“What’s that; a gli-what?”

“Glissando; it’s when you glide from one pitch to another up and down the scales. You can do it on a piano and even a violin, but nothing sounds like a harp, plus some ethnic music, like Irish, use a harp extensively. I’ll show you once we get to the classroom.”

“Gee, I hope I don’t have an orgasm; not in class.”

“I hope you do. You’ll be a harp fan for life.” I chuckled at her embarrassment as we resumed our way down the crowded hallway. We made a left and proceeded to the back of the building. We walked through what I recognized as a soundproof door, even though none of them quite made the grade. Steffi introduced me to her teacher, “Mrs. Sherman, this is Rob Kerwood.” I extended my hand as she did a double take.

“You can’t be; you’re supposed to be from the orchestra.”

“Yeah, that’s me. I’m not a regular employee, but I’ve signed on to do four sets of concerts this year. I just happened to be in Stan’s office when your request came in so I volunteered; and here I am. Oh, good; there’s my harp. Did they tune it when they dropped it off?” She shrugged her shoulders so I pulled up a chair and played a few notes, grimacing almost immediately. I pulled a set of tuning forks from my backpack and set about tuning up. It didn’t take long; not much longer than I’d usually spend on my guitar or mandolin. I had just finished tuning when I began to play; nothing special--just a few exercises. Looking right at Steffi I began my first glissando. Over and over the strings my fingers flew. Mrs. Sherman was looking at me so she didn’t see Steffi trembling. She shook wildly when she finally came. I shot her a smile when I noticed the wet spot on her crotch. Again, she reddened with embarrassment.

The classes were pretty easy and a lot of fun. I introduced myself, telling something about my history and training at Julliard. Then I showed the class my instruments and explained how they fit into certain types of music before playing several songs to demonstrate. Everything went smoothly and according to plan until fourth period when one of the boys, a recent transfer from New York, remembered my high school basketball career. It turned out that I had scored fifty against his brother. I would have enjoyed reliving my basketball days, but that’s not why I was here. “I don’t want to get off topic so let’s get back to the music; the reason I’m here today.” After that period Mrs. Sherman told me it was time for lunch. I was invited to join her in the teacher’s cafeteria, but I declined, commenting that I’d feel more comfortable with the kids. In fact, I kind of had a lunch date with Steffi.

I met her at the lunch line and we walked together to get our trays. I had a couple of tacos and some chocolate milk, a combination that raised her eyebrows; Steffi had a grilled chicken breast and a salad with water. I paid for both, asking the cashier for a receipt after being sure to tell her I was not a student. She led me to a table with three other girls, all seniors like Steffi.

They were all attractive girls with trim athletic bodies, but I thought Steffi was the class of the group--in my opinion anyway. Her shiny dark brown hair was long and pulled back into a ponytail. She was tall, maybe five feet nine or ten with an athletic build; slender with some serious muscle tone that I could see from her sleeveless top and tight shorts. Her tits were on the smallish side, probably a B-cup that matched her body well. Facially, she appeared to have clear olive toned skin and dark brown eyes. Her lips were full; I could imagine them wrapped around my cock.
I could tell from the star around her neck that she was Jewish. That didn’t bother me; my last girlfriend was Jewish, too.

I recognized two of the girls from the morning’s classes and soon learned they were all in chorus. Mrs. Sherman was obviously a very popular teacher. I returned to the music class and finished the day. Steffi met me there at the close of school and helped me get my stuff out to the car. “Can I give you a lift home? I’d like to talk with you a bit.”

“Sure, sounds great,” she said as she hopped into the passenger seat of my eight year old Subaru.

“I’d love to see you again. Are you dating anyone?”

“No; I was, but I broke it off last month. He was a juvenile. All he wanted was sex.”

“Gee, sounds kind of like me.”

She laughed, “No, trust me; nothing like you. You probably know what you’re doing. He was selfish; always thinking about himself; never about me.”

“Correction; nothing like me. You already have one courtesy of me, don’t you?”

“Oh God, that was so embarrassing. I’m so glad Mrs. Sherman was looking at you. I was tingling for the entire class. Just thinking about it will probably make me wet.”

“I hope so. I’d like to take you out tomorrow night if you’re not busy, but I should tell you; I’m not Jewish. I know some parents are really strict about that.”

“Not mine; we haven’t been to temple in; well, since Rosh Hashanah almost a year ago. I almost never date Jewish guys. Most of them are too nerdy.”

We chatted as she gave me directions. It was only a short five-minute drive. She invited me in to meet her mother. We talked for a few minutes, mostly about my singing career. She even asked me to dinner, but I had to decline. I had a load of homework and I had yet to practice for my first concert.

“How do they figure out what you’ll sing, Rob?” It was Steffi’s mother who asked.

“They send me a load of songs, maybe fifty or more. I look them over, try singing them, and weed them down to about two dozen or so because the orchestra will always play a bunch of instrumentals. Sometimes I make a few suggestions, too. Then I send the list back and the orchestra practices the ones the director likes. They’re real pros so it doesn’t take them too long. I’ll go in a few days before the concert to practice together. It’s important to get the tempo and timing right. By then I’ll know the songs by heart. Then all I have to do is step out onto the stage before about a thousand total strangers and perform.” I said good-bye and left, Steffi walking with me to the car. I was surprised when she kissed me. She wrapped her arms around my body and thrust her tongue deeply into my mouth.

I responded once I had recovered from the shock, placing my hands firmly onto her ass, pulling her cunt into my crotch. I was sure she could feel my growing erection, but she didn’t pull away. In fact, she rubbed her cunt up and down my rod, promising me something very interesting and appealing in the future. Finally, we broke the kiss and I told her I’d see her tomorrow around seven. I’d take her to dinner and then maybe to a movie. That may have been the plan, but it didn’t happen; not even close.

CHAPTER 2

I knocked at seven sharp; the door was answered by her brother. He introduced himself as Jeremy and invited me in. Steffi walked down the stairs about five minutes later. She was a vision in a gold sleeveless top and skintight black Capri’s. She wore gold open-toe sandals that exactly matched her top. Her outfit made me think that her parents were probably loaded; I was right. She introduced me to her father, Dr. Neil Goldwasser, an oral surgeon. I learned later that he maintained three very successful offices.

I grew up in a single parent family. No house for us; we lived in a second floor walk-up, on top of a liquor store that was open late at night so it was noisy until at least eleven. My father had disappeared before I was even born. My mom worked two and sometimes even three jobs just to get by. I was glad to help once I began to earn money; last year I earned more than three times what my mother made. I wasn’t complaining; I had a happier childhood than many of my more well-to-do friends whose parents argued constantly and for whom divorce seemed the norm.

Steffi said good-bye to her parents, but before we left I asked what time they wanted her home. “Since you asked, Rob,” her mother began, “let’s say one. Have a good time.” In seconds we were en route to my place. I explained that I had told Mrs. Romeo that I was taking a date out to dinner, but she had suggested making a gourmet Italian dinner instead.

We chatted for about ten minutes before we ran out of topics. I wasn’t uncomfortable with the silence, but apparently she was, for all of a sudden she blurted out something really personal, “I’m not a virgin.”

“I’m glad, but how has it worked out for you?”

She frowned, “Not as well as I hoped. I already told you about my ex-boyfriend.”

I had stopped at a light. Turning to her I gripped her chin lightly. “That will definitely change tonight if it’s okay with you. That’s a promise.” I leaned over for a quick kiss just before the light changed to green. I pulled into the driveway around 7:45 and led Steffi into the living room. The first thing she noticed was my trophy wall. I had won plenty of singing competitions and a number of plaques and trophies from my basketball career. She was impressed; I wasn’t. “My mom told me to take them or she was throwing them out, so; .”

“Oh, that would be a shame,” she exclaimed as I led her into the dining room which Carla had set with my best dishes and a set of stemware she had found in a discount store. I had insisted that we drink iced tea. I wasn’t about to ruin everything by giving her alcohol, even a simple glass of wine, without her parents’ permission. I held her chair as we sat while Joe served the first course, a hot antipasto. He spent a few minutes explaining what each item was. Luckily Steffi and her family were big seafood eaters; at least half of the items were some kind of shellfish.

The next course was a delicious soup; pasta fagioli with bacon. The tomato-based soup was covered with a thin slice of Italian bread and melted cheese. We had a relatively small serving in anticipation of several more courses. Following the soup was a wonderful Caesar salad and then the entrée--a delicate veal parmigiana, the veal pounded to almost paper thinness, with sides of angel hair pasta in marinara sauce and sprinkled with more freshly ground parmiagiana cheese. I thanked Joe and Carla, telling them how much I appreciated their staying late. “Please go; I’ll take care of the desert and dishes later.”

“Oh no; Rob, you leave the dishes in the sink. We will take care of them in the morning, right Joe?” Her husband agreed as they walked out the door.

“I didn’t think they’d ever go, but we’d have even more company in a restaurant. How’s the meal?”

“It’s just delicious, Rob, but I don’t want to overeat. I’ll probably fall asleep and I wouldn’t want that,” she commented, her eyes twinkling. We finished the dinner and I rinsed the dishes, leaving them in the sink. We agreed to postpone dessert until later.

“I have some DVD’s from Redbox, or an opera you might like or I’m sure we could find a movie somewhere. I think I have a newspaper in the living room.”

“An opera? We’ve studied a few with Mrs. Sherman--which one?”

“’Pagliacci’; if you’re any kind of an opera fan I think you’ll enjoy this performance.” I set up the DVD player and sat on the couch. Steffi snuggled up next to me, pulling my arm around her. I felt my hand brush against her tit. Steffi didn’t even flinch.

We were ten minutes into the Prologue when Steffi pulled away, looked at me closely and back to the screen, a 55-inch flat screen LCD set. She repeated several times before asking, “Is that you, Rob? Are you singing the clown’s role?”

“Yeah, I did that over the summer. It was only a two-week gig; part of a festival in New York. I love the role. Some of the world’s best tenors have sung the part.” Steffi snuggled even closer, placing my hand onto her tit this time. I worked my hand under her blouse where I could finger and massage her through her bra. When the Prologue ended she stood and removed her blouse and bra, dropping them onto the table. Her tits were perfectly formed with smallish areolas and very suckable erect nipples that I fingered and rolled. I stood and removed my shirt. We resumed our positions enjoying the skin on skin sensations for the first time.

Halfway through Act One I leaned down to kiss and nuzzle her neck. Her response was to turn the TV off. “I’m enjoying your performance, but I think I’d enjoy the live performance even more.” I took her hand and led her upstairs to my bedroom. I literally peeled the Capri’s from her body, exposing her lacy thong. Her dark pubic hair was thick and curly, but neatly trimmed and shaved or waxed back from her legs to accommodate a skimpy bikini. I could see the tan lines and they were very appealing.

I pulled back the blanket, allowing her to recline on the sheet while I removed my shoes, socks, and slacks. I slipped my boxers to the floor, exposing my thick eight-inch erection and my heavy balls before I joined Steffi on the bed. We lay on our sides as we kissed and explored each other. I especially enjoyed the feel of her firm muscular ass.

We were there for maybe five minutes when her hand found my throbbing cock. Her eyes opened when she felt the heat and hardness of it. This was my cue to reach between her legs. I found her hot and wet, her nectar oozing onto her thighs. I dipped my fingers in for a sample and brought them to my mouth. She intercepted me and sucked them instead. “Hmmm; nice.”

I returned them deep into her cunt for a bigger, stronger taste. Once in my mouth I grinned and kissed her, “I have to agree; you’re delicious. So delicious, in fact; .” I slid around so my mouth was at her cunt before pulling her on top of me. She turned to face me, a big smile on her face, “I’ve never done this, but I always wanted to try. Should I swallow your; stuff?”

“No, I want to cum, but not this way. I want to do it after we make love. Just tease me a little with your mouth and tongue while I take care of you. After you cum you’ll still be able to make love; okay?” She nodded her agreement and I went to work on her yummy cunt. Eating a gushing cunt is one of my favorite activities. I love the taste even though most women taste a little different. Steffi tasted wonderfully clean and sweet and; musky, betraying her desire; her need. I began at the outside, kissing her silken thighs and labia which were rapidly engorged and puffy.

Next I ran her labia between my teeth causing her to moan and groan. That only increased when I pushed my tongue into her canal. I tongue fucked her furiously as she thrashed around on my body. Only my hands on her ass cheeks prevented her from falling onto the floor. I felt I owed her after her negative experiences so I shifted to her clit, sucking it quickly between my teeth.

“Oh, Fuck! Oh, Yeah! Oh!” Steffi bounced on my body like a basketball until she finally calmed down. I spun her around so I could hold her tightly and kiss her cheek while I ran my fingers through her hair. “Oh Rob; that was; that was; incredible. I don’t think I’ve ever cum like that. I; .” I quieted her by pulling her to me and clapping my mouth over hers. She responded immediately as we built to another round of combined ecstasy. Our lips met with wild abandon as our bodies came together, arms and legs intertwined with raw animal passion.

My fingers found her cunt, wet and dripping again in anticipation; her hand found my cock, hard and hot and ready to explode. In a second I was in her, experiencing her heat, her tightness, as her muscles flexed around my organ. I rolled onto my back, allowing her to ride me, and ride me she did. She threw her head back as she drove her swollen clit into me. I could see the lust on her face as she was prepared to abandon everything in search of the elusive orgasm. That was okay, I was doing this for her; keeping my promise.

“Don’t let me cum in you,” I whispered.

“It’s okay; I’m on the pill. For God’s sake; fuck me. Oh God, please fuck me; it feels so, so good.” I reared back and drove my cock into her. Faster and faster we fucked; harder and harder we came together until we met one last time and exploded together. She shook wildly as a massive convulsion coursed through her body; I drowned her cunt and womb in my seed until; finally; we were spent. It was over. We lay on the bed covered in our sweat and semen and cunt juice. My sheets were a mess.

We were oblivious to anything and everything other than each other. It would have been the perfect time to tell her that I loved her, but it was much too soon. I held her for more than half an hour. At one point I thought she had passed out, but when I lifted her head I saw she was awake. “We need to shower. I can’t send you home like this or I’ll never see you again. Let’s get up, clean up, and walk downstairs for our dessert.”

“I don’t think I can walk.”

I laughed, “That’s okay, I can carry you; over my shoulder; like a sack of potatoes.” We both laughed and I pulled her up to the bathroom. I’d remodeled it over the summer, using half of an adjacent bedroom--the other half becoming my small office where I did my homework and reviewed music--to include a modern shower with tiled walls on three sides and no door on the final one. There were eighteen nozzles at various heights on the three walls and LED lighting built into the ceiling. I set the thermostat for 105 degrees and we walked in. In minutes the soothing water worked its magic. I ran the soap over her body, between her ass cheeks and over her cunt. When I had finished her legs and feet, I allowed her to rinse before placing the soap over into her hand.

She reached up to kiss me. It was sweet and tender, but told of smoldering passion waiting to escape. She pulled back, smiled briefly, and began to run the soap up and down my chest. In seconds she found my hard cock. “I’m glad to see I’m not the only one to enjoy this. I never knew a shower could be so much fun.” She dropped the soap into the built-in tray and reached around me, pulling me close and into a torrid kiss as the hot water spewed down our bodies. I returned the kiss as our tongues wrestled between our mouths. Reaching down I gripped her thighs and pulled her up. Her hand directed me to her gushing cunt. I slid into her tightness easily. Steffi’s legs were up; over my shoulders; as I plowed and pounded her cunt. This position opened her clit to my assault and it wasn’t long before she began to shudder as her orgasm began anew. It hit hard the instant she kissed me again, forcing her tongue down my throat. Her hands gripped my hair almost to the point of pain before she collapsed in my arms. I lowered her gently to the floor and I slipped, still erect, from her.

Steffi was somewhere else when I pulled her to her feet. I held her for several minutes to ensure that she’d be safe when I released her. She looked up, eyes still glassy, and whispered, “Wow! This has to be my best shower ever. I’m still shaking.” I kissed her again and finished washing her. Stepping out I grabbed a couple of soft bath towels, one for her body the other for her hair. Once she was dry I used a third on myself.

I placed Steffi onto a stool in the center of the bathroom and blew her hair until dry. Still naked we walked into the bedroom where I brushed her hair repeatedly using a new brush I had purchased for just such an emergency. “You okay?” I asked.

She turned her head and smiled, “Oh God, I’ve never had a night like this. I can’t believe I actually came three times in just a couple of hours.” Then she turned serious, “Are we going to see each other again?”

“I sure as hell hope so,” I replied chuckling at her concern. “I was thinking about tomorrow, but this time I will definitely take you out to eat and do something after. We can’t fuck all the time, you know.”

“Why not? This is the most fun I’ve had in years. You’ve restored my confidence. I actually think I’m sexy again.”

I almost choked, “How; how could you ever doubt that? You’re probably the sexiest girl I’ve ever met. And you’re gorgeous, too. You’re probably the best looking girl I’ve ever dated. No; you’re definitely the best-looking girl I’ve ever known.”

“Thanks; even if it isn’t true.”

“It is; in my opinion. I think you’re incredible.” I kissed her then just to prove my point. Standing up, I led her back downstairs. We sat naked in my living room. “What would you like to drink? I’m having ginger ale. I don’t like caffeine late at night. I think you’ll enjoy the dessert. Carla made it herself.”

“Two ginger ales, then. Can’t I help you?”

“No; it won’t take me long.” I was back in five minutes with two tall glasses of ginger ale with plenty of ice before returning to the kitchen for some spoons and two small paper containers like what one would use for muffins or cupcakes. “Ever have biscuit tortoni? I haven’t even seen it for years even though we have zillions of Italian-Americans where I live. It always comes in one of these little cups because it’s so rich.”

Steffi took a tentative spoonful and I could tell from the expression on her face that it was a hit. There was enough cream in this to harden anyone’s arteries. We ate in relative silence, but I did turn on my stereo, a state of the art Bose system. “Is this Bocelli? I love his work.”

“Yeah, believe it or not I met him at Lincoln Center last year. He actually told me he enjoyed my singing and asked if we could do a duet. I asked him when and he told me, “Right now.” We sang “It’s Time to Say Goodbye.” To make things interesting I sang the higher part, you know the one sung by Sarah Brightman and he sang the lower, the part he usually sings. The audience loved it. I think it’s on this CD.” I advanced the CD until I found the song. I had to admit; it was beautiful. Of course, anything sung by Andrea Bocelli, one of the world’s greatest talents, was beautiful.

“Rob; will you do me a favor? Could I have a CD with some of your songs on it?”

“Of course; I just happen to have one right here,” I said laughing and enjoying the moment. “Who shall I make it out to?” I was laughing and kidding, but she took me seriously.

“Make it to ‘Steffi, the love of my life.’”

I took the marker and wrote. Then I gave her the CD and told her, “That will be $20 or a kiss.”

“I’ll pay with the kiss.” She grabbed my head with one hand as she placed the completed dessert on the table. Turning, she lifted her leg and sat in my lap. Her other hand found my cock. “Don’t I owe you one?” I started to say, “No,” but she covered my mouth with hers as she began to stroke me. Her hand was surprisingly strong and extremely persuasive. Her lips were so soft, her tongue so demanding. I sat there soaking up the entire moment, overwhelmed by the sensations.

She stroked me, her fingers gripping me tightly as she slowly jerked my cock. Pulling away for a moment she whispered in my ear, “I’ve only seen this in porn and I’ve always wanted to try it. I read somewhere that it gives the girl power over the guy. Is that true?”

“I can’t speak for anyone else,” I replied, my breathing becoming erratic, “but, it feels wonderful; so much so that I’d probably do anything to get you to continue.”

Steffi laughed. “Good thing I’m not the type to take advantage; I loved what happened tonight. I feel I have to pay you back for being so; nice; considerate; loving. Oh hell, it was wonderful and you’re wonderful, too.” She leaned forward again and kissed me as her hand worked wonders on my cock.

I broke the kiss, “Steffi; I’m going to; ! I blew; like a volcano, a long thick rope of semen spurted forth reaching a height of more than two feet, followed mere seconds later by another just as strong. All in all, I shot five strong streams of thick viscous cum. It all landed on my chest and abdomen. Between panting breaths I stammered, “Glad; I; I; just; showered. Oh; God; that was; so; intense.” Steffi gave me a quick peck and bounced off my lap into the kitchen, returning with a sponge and some paper towels. She giggled as she cleaned me up.

Once done she gripped my cock and pulled one final droplet from my tip. I was surprised when she leaned down and licked it into her mouth. She pondered for a few seconds before repeating and sucking the final bit into her mouth. “I kind of like the taste. It’s a bit salty, but otherwise it tastes pretty good. I bet you’d love a blowjob, wouldn’t you?”

“Well, DUH! Who wouldn’t? Did you enjoy it when I did it to you? Of course you did. If you didn’t I’d worry about you. Now, about tomorrow; .” We talked for almost twenty minutes until I noticed it was after twelve. We dressed hurriedly and I drove her home. We kissed briefly at the door and I waited until she was inside and the door locked before returning to my big empty house.


CHAPTER 3

I was up early, around 7:30, to shave and shower before breakfast. I walked in to find Joe busy with the dishes and Carla at the stove. “I can’t thank the two of you enough for everything last night. The dinner was delicious and the tortoni was out of this world.”

“We’re glad you liked it, Rob,” Carla replied. “She seemed like a very nice girl.”

“She is. I’ll be seeing her again today and this time I’m definitely giving you the rest of the day off. I have to attend the concert tonight so I’ll take her into Boston for dinner. Would you like to go? It’ll only take a phone call.”

“Why are you going, Rob?” It was Joe, just finished with the dishwasher.

“They’re going to call me up to sing a couple of songs. I guess to help build an audience for my concerts. I’m not all that well known around here, you know.”

“We’ve heard you sing. You’ll be famous, for sure. What do you think, Carla, should we put up with some second-class music so we can hear Rob sing tonight?” Ever the actress, Carla thought about it for several seconds before smiling and nodding.

“Can you get us four tickets, Rob? We’d like to show off for our daughter and her snobby husband.” I laughed and agreed.

“Oh; I had to change the sheets last night. Sorry for making more work for you.”

“Somehow,” Carla laughed again, “I doubt you’re the least bit sorry. You make a lovely couple and you should enjoy yourselves. You don’t have to apologize ever for that. Now what would you like to eat?” I had a cheese omelet with a load of bacon and some sausages washed down with a large glass of orange juice. I had a single-cup coffee maker, but I never used it. I loved the smell of coffee, but hated the taste. Somehow it never appealed to me and, truthfully, I didn’t miss the caffeine. I knew a few of my high school friends who were absolutely useless until they had their first cup in the morning. I left around 8:30 for the drive to Malden High School where Steffi was playing in a soccer game. Had I known she had a game I would have insisted she go home earlier for a good night’s sleep.

I parked the car and walked toward the field behind the school. There were people in the stands, but probably fewer than a hundred. The game was already underway and I was looking for Steffi when I heard, “Rob! Rob!” It was Steffi’s brother, Jeremy, calling and waving to me. I looked up to see him and Steffi’s parents relaxing and watching the game with a group of friends. I walked up to meet them then sat in a nearby open place. Jeremy pointed out his sister to me. She was a defensive player, meaning that she rarely had a chance to score, but played an important role in stopping the other team. I knew from my basketball experience how important that could be.

Jeremy asked me about playing ball. I explained that I had been a four-year starter for my team and how I had played both guard and forward, but at six feet, three inches I was too small to do that in college where I hoped to play. I was already in a PE class with a bunch of hopefuls. There are no athletic scholarships in Division III so prospective players had to try out just like in high school. There were thirty “players” in my afternoon class and maybe five of them could make my high school team, but not as starters. Most of them were terrible, lacking both skill and conditioning. I agreed to give Jeremy some pointers after the game.

To be continued, by senorlongo.