China Kiss - The Cellist

The first movement of the piece was about fifteen minutes long, the whole thing closer to thirty. I didn't know how much of it I was going to get or how much I could take. I'd already watched a whole evening's performance, but I'd have happily sat for hours and watched her and at the same time I had to fight my instinct to grab the cello from her, throw it to the ground and take her on the floor. Reminding myself that we had all evening, I let my civilized side lose itself in the music and my animal side in her curves.

At first she played with great concentration -- eyes on the instrument or closed. As the performance got well underway, she started to relax and even became a little flirtatious. She looked at me, either with passion or playfulness in the slower parts, playing looser and having fun with the rhythm or throwing in an extra improvisation or a motif from a completely different piece before screwing her face up when the challenge picked up and she had something to prove again.

The cello is a powerful instrument and even more so in such a confined space. The low notes shook the room and I felt the vibrations in my stomach and lower. I watched her hands dance and then found my gaze moving backwards down her arms and shoulders to the point where her flesh met the wood of her instrument. She head bobbed and weaved as she played and I was entranced by the line of her neck and the contrast of her dark hair against her light olive skin. As the music crescendoed her thighs grasped the cello firmly and I could even see her toes curl through the fabric of her tights.

Finally she played the last repeating note of the piece, a low vibrato that was held for a few seconds before fading away. As silence returned, I waited for her to bow her head and indicate the performance was over. I was torn as to what to do. A simple applause would be inadequate. Rushing over there and simply grabbing her would have been disrespectful.

Instead, I simply looked at and said. "Jackie. Thank you. You are as talented as you are beautiful. It would be an honour for me to be your lover, your companion and your audience."

She looked back at me. For a moment, I thought she was going to cry and indeed, she moved her arm, bow still in hand as if she was going to wipe away a tear that never quite came.

"Yes," she said simply.

She stored her cello securely in a matter of fact way and only then did we step to each other. There was an awkward pause as we both decided how we should kiss. I finally lent in and she yielded to me, her bare breasts pushing up against my shirt and her mouth opening in welcome.

The music had already set the tempo. The kiss was passionate but leisurely as we explored each other's taste. My arms came round her back and I held her tighter to me, as much to keep her warm as to feel her skin. I had her at a disadvantage. She was nearly naked and I had yet to remove my tie. I remedied this, removing my shirt and she ran her hands through the hair on my chest in wonder before we returned to kissing.

When the moment ended, our mouths separated and we both bowed our necks a little, our foreheads touching. We started a small laugh of happiness -- hers a giggle and mine a deeper chuckle. We gave ourselves a hug more of friendship and then sound and movement returned to the world around us.

The next piece would be the showstopper, but as always, there was a certain amount of reorganizing to do. There was no bed and neither of the chairs looked sturdy enough to survive a crescendo. The floor was hard, cold stone. And yet we would have to make it work.

The answer came in the form of a number of gym mats that were stored behind the piano. They slotted together like a jigsaw and were able to cover enough of the floor to make some kind of bed for us. Jackie had brought a sheet with her in her bag but it only served to protect us from the dust of the mats and did make things more comfortable.

Once we had arranged the mats, Jackie went back to the computer. She found Beethoven's Triple Concerto and looped the loudest two minutes of it. She played with the volume till she was satisfied. Too quiet and it wouldn't cover what we were about to do. Too loud and it might attract attention on its own.

We sat down on the mat and both removed our lower layers until we were full naked. We first sat and then lay together. I noticed that Jackie paid no attention to my erect penis, not necessarily through embarrassment but she was careful to keep it out of eyeshot. Instead, she looked at my face as much as possible. I confess my eyes wandered to her parts more often. As she slid her tights off, I got a sight of her small, but perfectly formed derrière and as we settled down I saw the dainty mound of pubic hair down below.

Only when we were settled on the floor, did she turn to her bag and go rummaging. She returned with a condom packet. I was relieved. I wasn't sure what I would have done if we had not had one.

That's a lie. I knew well and it would have been stupid. I was lucky she had come prepared.

And yet she didn't strike me as the kind of girl who would habitually carry one. I wondered what the options for getting one in a rush late at night on campus were. Borrowed from a friend, maybe? That would involve sharing secrets and I wasn't sure she would do that either.

But then tonight had been all planned, hadn't it? Or hoped for at least.

"When did you decide?" I asked.

"Schubert," she said. That had been five weeks ago. "I saw you before and was attracted, but it was at theDeath and the Maiden that I decided something needed to be done. Then there were no tickets left in the section for the Mozart's and you foolishly skipped the Bruckner."

"Thatwas foolish of me," I agreed. "There aren't many things I'd sit through an entire Bruckner symphony for, but..."

"But tonight I hit the seating lottery exactly and ended up right next to you," she said proudly.

"And yet you still didn't make a move," I said.

"I thought it only fair that to give you at least some notes in this duet," she said. "I would have struck up a conversation at the end, if you hadn't."

"No," I said. "I don't think you would."

"Why? You think I'd be scared?"

"I think you would have gone home still wondering how you could getme to noticeyou."

"Well, you did finally, didn't you?" she said, snuggling a little closer to me.

"I notice a lot of things. I noticed you were very attractive. I also noticed you were thirty year's younger than me. That much was obvious. It took a little while longer to notice that you were intelligent and we had a lot in common and I'm only now confirming that you are very talented. Most importantly, I noticed you'd noticed me. Even so, does this feel like a rush? I think we've decided we like each other. Would you like us to leave this till tomorrow. You could come to my apartment..."

"Shhh, you're killing the mood," she said with a laugh. Her hand moved to my cock.

"Well, then..." I said.

We kissed the kiss of a couple about to make love for the first time. Such a kiss is never just about the mouths, it's all about where the hands go. They might start behind the back and then wander downwards. We were lying down side-by-side so mine naturally stopped at her hips. Hers were behind my head, then round my shoulders. Such a kiss is also about the legs. They will be entwined, no doubt and in doing so she will inevitably feel the hardness against her thighs, but also the sensation as one foot touches and rubs against the other.

And so one enters the second stage of a relationship. It's no longer about making sure she chooses you, but making sure she is satisfied with her choice. There's more pressure on me tonight. I've discovered that she's been fantasizing about me for months, but I was barely aware of her until this evening. I couldn't help but wonder what she thinks our lovemaking should be like. It's foolish to try and live up to a fantasy. All I can do is follow the one piece of advice that is always given.

I don't rush.

Instead I try to make this instant last forever.

And so the first movement is all about our hands. They roam, but glacially. I trace. I caress. I linger. It is about the embrace, our bodies pressed together, skin touching. I touch her from head to toe, from stroking her hair to lifting her knee and holding her whole foot in the palm of my hand. It's about a line up drawn up the sole of her foot, or a sweep up the back of a calf, a cupping of her buttocks.

The only place I don't touch is there. I know she's wet. She was wet when she played. A less patient man would cite fifteen minutes of foreplay already done and have her now, and my loins burn to do so. At any moment, I could push her down and take her. I want to know what it is like to be inside her so badly. But we will only make love for the first time once, and all I want will come in time.

The first movement blends into the second as I move from her lips to her neck. In so doing, I am above her and she is lying fully on her back. Now it is all about my mouth and her body. The roaming of our hands dies down. My mouth visits her cheeks and ears. I give her forehead a single kiss on my way from her left side to her right.

There is a shift in intensity as I reach her breasts and bring them to my mouth. We are no longer exploring, but she is giving herself to me. I am no longer kissing her but suckling. A symbolic nurturing for sure, but her body is no longer just alluring to me, it seems almost fecund. Her teats are hard on my tongue. Her hand reaches round to cradle my head. She is tender and comforting, and I remain until our bond is firm.

I go travelling, across the flatness of her stomach. In truth I don't want to leave which is why perhaps my hands come straight to her breasts as I work my way down. She's arching her back now and her heavy breathing increases to actual moans, still soft but communicative.

I bypass her centre again. I want our lovemaking to be simple and cultured. I weave my tongue along her thighs and down her legs and her body sings out softly with my touch. Then I repeat the refrain with my hands a bar later. I kiss gently the top of her feet and give just a hint of a massage to the soles.

Pulling myself back up so we are eye to eye and I kiss her again. So begin the variations. All I have done, I do again. While before I touched only the surface of her hair, now I'm not afraid to tussle it. At her breast, I am a most insistent infant, hungrier and demanding. Where once I caressed now I squeeze.

Finally, she grabs my head and pulls me back up to her lips. Its her way of telling me that she's ready. Not just that we can make love now, but that we should -- the time is right. There's a pause as I reach over for the packet and put the condom on. I'm efficient, but even this breaks the spell for a second and I make sure to kiss her again. We can't quite recreate the moment, but it's enough. Her legs part and I guide myself inside her.

I enter easily enough. She's not a virgin. I thought not, otherwise I would have acted with more caution. She's tight though and it takes me a few moments to get myself all the way inside her. I'm intending to take it slow still, but her body disagrees. The first few real thrusts are gentle, but each time her body comes up to me, it's a fraction ahead of my beat. Her hand on my behind pushes it down before its reached it's natural apex. And so we speed up. Eventually we reached an equilibrium at allegro.

And after that, all is done except the deed. Again, it is a simple act. Our bodies are entwined, my legs between hers and my arms behind her back. Our mouth join and separate and the join as the mood takes us. Occasionally she may raise her hand to my cheek. That apart, there is no need to do anything differently as we are both completely lost in each other. She comes, I think, but delicately -- a momentary quiver. Then my body speeds up, becomes more forceful but only in the last few seconds is there a hint of roughness. My world explodes and I collapse onto her, my heart still pounding. We cling together for several minutes more. I stay within her until I can no longer.

We had done it and it had been glorious.

We were now lovers, but inexperienced with each other and so the next few moments were awkward. The condom needed disposing of and I hardly wanted to throw it in the bin for a cleaner to find. Jackie had brought paper, a whole toilet roll and she wrapped it and stored it safely in a side pocket of her bag. In my haste, though, I had discarded the packet without thought, and we needed to search for it, finding it eventually wedged under the piano pedal.

We dressed, tripping over each other as we retrieved our various items. The irony of an expensive suit is that it is easier to look obviously dishevelled than it is in a T-shirt and jeans. I took care in dressing and, even though I didn't think I needed it, Jackie straightened my tie when I was done. I'd hate to say it was the highlight of her evening, but judging by the smile on her face it may well have been.

"You'll come and have dinner with me tomorrow?" I asked. She nodded. "And we can arrange the tickets for the next performance then."

I was quite pleased with myself. Somehow I'd already arranged the third and second dates before we'd been on the first. A neat trick if you can pull it off.

"How are we going to do this?" I said, indicating the door.

"You go," she said. "I'm going to stay and play for a while."

"Really?" I asked. "So late?"

"I find playing helps me with me figure things out." she explained.

"You have questions to answer?" I asked.

"Don't look so worried! Not like that," she said. "Just, its through music that I find out who I am and I feel like I'm someone different tonight from who I was yesterday. It's complicated. I may just be up for a while working my way through things."

"Then who will I meet tomorrow?" I said, unbolting the door.

"Me, only more so," she replied.

I kissed her and then left the hut. As I strolled off campus it was as if my inner ears were hearing a whole orchestra and my mind's eye was watching a single soloist.