The Musicians

The Musicians.

Myrna had a bronze sculpted body and played the bass guitar. At the Entertainers Hall she was checking out band gigs. Next to her stood a thin young man, reading the board for symphony auditions.

“What do you play?”

“The flute,” he answered, without looking her way.

Gay she decided…his voice was girly and straight guys always noticed her.

At length he sighed in her direction, “and you?”

“I’m looking for a band that needs a bass guitar.”

“You and a thousand others…” he said glumly.

“I was about to say the same thing about your chances at the Symphony.”

“I’m a damn good musician I’ll have you know…”

“So am I…I’ll have you know…”

“OK…, sorry, see your point…, it’s just that you hit a raw nerve.”

“Well, I don’t see anything here on the “Bozo Board…” There was a pause and then she asked impulsively, ”Maybe we could get together and do some jamming.”

She knew the word “Jamming” was wrong and wished she could take it back.

He cocked his head and smiled. “You don’t seem to understand, MS…?”

“Jordan, Myrna Jordan…,”

“I’m gay.”

“Neither do you…so am I.”

“Ahhhh….”

“I’m not stupid…how many straight guys play the fracking flute?”

“Then why…?”

“I honestly don’t even know…,” she answered indignantly,” maybe some kind of professional interest.”

He stood scratching his head. She reached in her purse and handed him a card. “I live on a farmette about twenty miles out of town… How about Thursday night?… and don’t forget your flute.”

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“At five O’clock Myrna saw a car turning into the drive. She smiled into the mirror…Staring back was a young man wearing slacks, a sport coat and loose black sweater. Sideburns had been painted with boot black and appended to "his" upper lip was a fake mustache. Long hair was stuffed under a baseball cap. It was the get up she sometimes wore while role playing with her girlfriends. When she opened the door, her visitor stepped back in surprise.

“Glad you could make it,” she said, eyes sparkling.

“What have you done to yourself?”….he replied in dismay.

“Just wanted to make you feel comfortable…I was thinking about writing ‘Man’ on my forehead.”

“Glad you passed on that…”

“Why don’t you relax while I get the pizza in the oven.”

On a table next to the door were some large speakers, an amp and a bass guitar. Myrna returned from the Kitchen….”Should be ready in about fifteen minutes…” Picking up her guitar she strummed a few notes. He took out his flute and answered with some of his own…

“Do you know this one?” she asked…..”Da de dum da dum da dum da dum….” It was the opening to Dueling Banjoes.

“Fooo fa foo fa foo fa fa.”

“Da da dum dum dum.”

“Fa foo foo foo..”

They played it through several times.

“You know the movie it came from?”

“Deliverance,” he answered.

She laid down her instrument. “You know what happened in the end?”

Huh?”

“If you don’t remember, let me give you a little hint.”

“What are you referring to?”

“This!”

She turned about and pulled her slacks and panties down over her hips. Then picking up the guitar once more, leaned over the table and strummed…."Da da dum dum dum."

“Oh my Goodness!” he stammered.

She looked back over her shoulder…." How long do you plan on keeping my ass waiting? Da da dum dum dum.”

In haste he unbuckled his belt and unsnapped his Levis.

“Now you’re getting the idea.”

He pulled down his boxers revealing a long slender penis.

“Da da dum dum dum.”

A container of lube lay nearby. He applied some to his fingers and then his erection. She put aside the guitar and setting her feet squarely on the floor, leaned across the table taking hold of the far edge. Looking back at him she voiced the notes….”Da da dum dum dum.”

Excitement surged as he stepped up into her buttocks, nudged apart her thighs and guided his member into the forbidden orifice. She groaned, rising on her tiptoes as he pressed deeply…, then backed out and pushed in slowly once more. She twisted on the table her knuckles turning white.

He reached around with one hand and began searching. Finding the flower he slipped a finger gently inside. The sensation sent a tingle racing through her body.

“Oh Gawd!” She cried out as he began working her from both ends. He picked up the tempo, shaking his head in disbelief as she began muttering obscenities, and banging her forehead into the surface.

With measured and relentless insistence his hips stroked while his finger darted in and out.

She twisted and squirmed, looking back, eyes glazed. Then her hips began to tremble and reaching out desperately, clutched the far edge. “Please! Please! “ she exhorted and began to crest in the throes, wallowing in the rush as he splayed and squirted inside.

He withdrew his finger and stepped back leaving her sprawled across the table top. “How do you feel?”

After a moment she answered, “Nice, very nice indeed. What will we ever do for an encore?”

WC 869