I originally wrote this story in 2013 when I thought the minimum age was 16. In no state in the U.S. is the age of consent higher than 16, and in many it is lower. However, I do not own this site and I must abide by the rules established by the owners. Therefore, I have rewritten the story so that both Rob and Steffi are 18 when they meet and first have sexual relations.
There are three parts to this story. The third has been posted, but I am deleting and reposting in the hope that all three parts will be together. For reasons I will never understand my 150 stories are scattered willy-nilly throughout my list rather than being arranged either alphabetically or by posting date. I would think that any database could be sorted in one of those two ways. Enjoy the story. Senorlongo
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 breasts 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 pussy 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 breast. 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 breast 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 breasts 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 pussy 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 pussy. 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 butt 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.
“OHHH, FUCK! OHHH, YEAH! OHHHHHHHHH!” 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 pussy 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 butt cheeks and over her pussy. 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 pussy. 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.
The score was tied 0-0 at halftime. I waved to Steffi as she walked by into the gym. Her dad and Jeremy left to get some sodas out of their car. I found myself alone with Mrs. Goldwasser, her mother. “I want to thank you for last night, Rob,” she began. “You should know that Steffi and I have few secrets. She told me just about everything when she came in.” She saw the concern on my face and laughed, “No, don’t worry. How many eighteen year old girls do you know who haven’t had sex? What do you think I did when I was eighteen? I’m Jewish so I obviously wasn’t trying to be a nun.
“Until last night Steffi had sex with one boy. Now she’s had sex with a man. Believe me, she much prefers the man over the boy. I’ve tried to explain how sex is about giving—both ways. Until last night I don’t think she believed me. Now she does, so thank you very much. Don’t mention anything to her father. He doesn’t know and he acts like she’s still ten. One of these days he’ll wake up and she’ll be engaged.” We talked about other things for a while until Jeremy and his dad returned with a cooler. I was offered a Coke, but I politely refused. However, I did accept an invitation to lunch.
I walked down the bleachers to Steffi once the game had ended--a 1-0 loss on a penalty kick. I didn’t know much about soccer, but I thought that Steffi had played well, not giving up any kind of advantage to the opposing team. I kissed her cheek and we talked quietly as we walked toward the school. I stopped outside after she told me she would see me after her shower. Her hair was still wet when she returned fifteen minutes later. I took her hand as we walked to my car.
I was about to open the door for her when she spun me around and wrapped her arms around my neck. “Did you like the game?”
“I liked the way you played, but I would have liked it better if you won.”
“That doesn’t happen very often—only once this year and we’ve played five games. This was actually one of our better efforts. Right now I think we should shut up and kiss.” It was hard to argue with that kind of logic. I leaned down slightly and pressed my lips to hers. It was just as sweet as I recalled. We kissed there for several minutes before we broke it, I think because she could hear my stomach growling.
We were in the car when I commented that I’d had a very interesting conversation with her mother. “I’m sorry, Rob. I should have told you about our relationship. Mom and I talk about everything. I told her before our date that I thought I’d have sex with you. I knew—don’t ask me how—that you’d be different…that you’d take care of me.”
“I loved everything we did last night and I want it to happen again. I love making you cum. Watching you squirm around is a real turn-on. Oh…I have to go to a concert tonight. They want me to sing a couple of songs. The rest of the time we’ll be in the audience like everyone else. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Gee…I get to go to a great concert and I get to hear you perform…why would I complain? It sounds great to me. We are going back to your house after, aren’t we?”
“We’re going before, too. I have to dress, but I don’t know what we’ll be able to do.”
“That’s okay…I do! Let’s just make sure we have enough time. Don’t you have to warm up, or something?” I opened the door for her and we drove the short distance to her home. As expected Jeremy was out in the driveway with his basketball. He passed it to me; I dribbled behind my back and between my legs before taking a fifteen-foot jumper that hit nothing but net.
“Awesome, Rob…can you teach me to do that?”
“Well…I can show you, but it really is nothing more than practice. I used to practice dribbling with my eyes closed. The same thing about shooting with your off hand—it’s nothing more than practice…practice…practice. You have to have some ability, but that alone won’t cut it.” I passed the ball back to him and walked with Steffi into the house. Her father was already out back working with the grill. For someone whose job required incredible hand-eye coordination he was doing a terrible job. I offered to take over and he willingly walked away, leaving the grilling to me.
Having grown up in an apartment I’d had no experience with any kind of grill until this past summer when I used one almost every noon and night until Carla and Joe were hired. I had learned a lot over those six weeks. I sectioned off the bulk chopped chuck with a steak knife and put my hands to work pounding out and shaping a bunch of burgers. Let’s see…two for me, one for Steffi, one for her mom…. I made eight thinking that would be plenty. I seasoned them with salt and pepper and started the grill. Steffi brought out some rolls and gave me a kiss in the process. I was cooking away when she reappeared and kissed me again. “Uh…what’s your dad going to say? Doesn’t he still think of you as a ten year old?”
“Unfortunately, he does, but he just went to the store. He’ll be back in about ten minutes so I have that long to kiss you and convince you we need to do more later on this afternoon.”
“Ha…that won’t take much, but let’s see you convince me.” She jumped into my arms and rammed her tongue down my throat. Steffi remained in that position for several minutes until I broke away to check the burgers. I had just put the rolls on the grill when her father appeared, explaining that he had forgotten his wallet. It was a close call, but I wasn’t worried. I was pretty sure Steffi’s mom had things under control and I found it hard to actually believe her father didn’t realize that we had kissed a few times.
I served the lunch at one o’clock sharp and I must have done a good job because everyone was stuffing themselves, including me. I suggested Steffi get ready because I would have to warm up before dinner. I explained that I always sang for an hour before performing to loosen my vocal cords and to check my pitch. I would have to do it early tonight because I was only a part-time performer and we were going to dinner first. She was ready just after two. I thanked her folks for lunch even though I was the chef. I took her hand and walked her to the car. Forty minutes later we were at my home. I took a few minutes to call the box office and order four tickets for Joe and Carla. I also reminded them that I would need two for Steffi and me. Both sets would be at the “Will Call” office.
CHAPTER 4
I turned around once I was done to find Steffi naked in the hallway, shaking her hot ass and waving those smooth white globes in my face. She slowly backpedalled up the stairs, playing with her tits and leading me to the bedroom where I was sure she had some plans for me. I shed my clothes as I followed so all I was wearing were my sandals when I entered the room. She fell back onto the bed as I approached and I made a big show of “falling” onto her. We came together in a tangle of body parts. I kissed her lips before working my way down, kissing her neck, her breasts, her belly. I stuck my tongue into her navel. She was obviously ticklish because she jumped up shrieking with laughter. I continued my journey down to her abdomen and my ultimate target. Once there I pulled her on top of me, her tasty cunt just over my chin.
Steffi ran her finger nails up and down my shaft, teasing me as my cock jumped in response. I began to eat her delicious pussy; she lowered her head onto my cock, washing it with her tongue as she sucked and bobbed up and down. I attacked her cunt with my mouth, first covering the entire surface with my lips and sucking mightily. This caused her labia to engorge. In seconds they were swollen with her passion. I move in to her core, teasing her tunnel with my tongue. I knew I was getting to her in the same way she was getting to me. Steffi was squirming all over me; I was humping her mouth. I doubted that either of us could do anything to control our movements.
I knew I was getting close so I shifted my attentions to her clit. I sucked it between my teeth, nibbling and sucking simultaneously. She came hard and fast, flooding my mouth with her ejaculate. I barely had time to warn her, “Steffi…I’m close.” She paid no heed and took my hefty load into her mouth and throat as a result. She squeezed the last drops from my wilting cock and licked them off with a smile. I could barely move so I pulled her around to me so I could hold and caress her while we recovered. We rose about twenty minutes later and showered. Steffi dressed and combed her hair while I put on my navy blue suit and tied my tie. Once done I went down to my studio to run through some scales. I always taped my practices so I could play them back for review. I was finished by five.
We drove into Boston, heading for Faneuil Hall where I had reservations at Durgin-Park, famous for generations for its massive prime rib and seafood. It was an extremely expensive restaurant, but I was being well paid for my work tonight and I could afford to treat Steffi well. She had certainly treated me well over the past two days. We arrived on time for my 5:45 reservation. We dined extremely well and I drove over to Mass Ave. in plenty of time for the concert at Symphony Hall.
We were seated on the aisle at a table in row eight and the usher showed me how to get onto the stage when called. My cue occurred when a huge screen was lowered from above the stage. An interview with Andrea Bocelli was played. I kissed Steffi and stepped into the aisle, from there to side of the stage. Bocelli was asked about young talent to replace the aging tenors, many of whom were now retired, and recently deceased Pavarotti. “There are several fine young tenors,” he said, “but the most outstanding comes from right here in the States. I’ve had the honor and pleasure of performing with him…Rob Kerwood is the outstanding tenor of the future.” The screen was raised to reveal me standing at a microphone center stage.
The backup singers began without introduction, “Once you have found her never let her go…once you have found her never let her….”
I jumped in over the last, “go,” and sprang right into “Some Enchanted Evening,” following the rendition made popular by Jay Black and the Americans way back in 1965. I was aware of the first four or five words then I was somewhere else. Autopilot was the best way I could describe it; I was no longer in front of thousands of strangers—I was in my own mind relying on my years of instruction and practice. It was only at the very end of the song that I came back. The song ended and I bowed to the enthusiastic applause. I even heard a few “Bravo’s” coming from the audience. I could make out Steffi and I could see she was beaming.
I moved easily into my second song, “The Impossible Dream,” without saying a word. Everyone knew the song and it was very well received. It ended to very strong applause. I spoke now for the first time, “I really love this song because I live the impossible dream every day. I grew up in a single parent home, a two-bedroom apartment on the second floor above a busy street and a liquor store. My father took off before I was even born and my mother struggled to get by, often working two or even three jobs. I know of the sacrifices she made to get me to Julliard for lessons every Saturday for almost ten years. For me to be here on this stage is truly the impossible dream.”
I went on to introduce my next song, “Every March there is a major singing competition in Dublin in which one and only one song is sung. Last year more than 1500 competed and I’m proud to tell you that I was the winner as I was the prior year. I hope you enjoy this song as much as the judges did. I’ll bet that many of you know the beginning of this song, but that few know the ending which is very emotional. I couldn’t get through it without crying when I first tried to sing it. Of course…I was only seven at the time.” There was some laughter in the audience and when it ended I took a deep breath and launched “Danny Boy.” My voice was full of emotion as I told the story in song of an old man who sends his only son off to war and prepares him for his return whether the father is alive or dead. It was one of my best ever performances. People leapt out of their seats when I finished and bowed. I turned to acknowledge the orchestra and I was truly astonished to see that they were standing and applauding, too. There were many calls for an encore.
Conductor Heath Lockner told the audience of my concert series and asked if I could sing one of the Christmas songs. I suggested “Oh, Holy Night,” but the orchestra wasn’t prepared so I decided to sing “a cappella.” I moved away from the microphone. I didn’t need it if there was no orchestra behind me. I knew from experience that my voice would easily be heard anywhere in the auditorium. I could hear a pin drop, that’s how quiet it was as the song built. I thought this was the most beautiful and by far the most difficult of the Christmas songs. I finished to wild acclaim, thanked Heath and the orchestra and strode off the stage and back to Steffi.
It was intermission so everyone was up and about. I was stopped several times for my autograph before I reached her. She jumped into my arms and kissed me. “Oh Rob, you were fantastic…incredible. I can’t believe I was actually here for it.” I put my arm around her and walked her up the aisle to where I saw Joe and Carla sitting. They greeted me with huge smiles and introduced me to their daughter and her husband. I could understand why they didn’t like him—he came off like a cold fish, devoid of any personality. Worse, he couldn’t help but scope out Steffi’s body right in front of his wife. We chatted for a minute before I excused us, using thirst as an excuse.
We ran into Stan, the business manager, in the lobby. He was ecstatic. They had sold more than 500 tickets to my future concerts during the intermission. He bought us a couple of Cokes and some popcorn. I shook more hands and signed more autographs on our way back to our seats. I took a close look at Steffi once we were seated; I saw total love and lust in her eyes. I was extremely pleased with both. Once the lights were dimmed she pulled my hand to her crotch. It was soaking wet; I was sure her dress was ruined. I looked at her again; she smiled lamely and shrugged her shoulders. “I couldn’t help it. I love the way you sing. I didn’t tell you, but I had two orgasms in Mrs. Sherman’s class. I held her hand and gave her cheek a peck as the concert began again. We enjoyed the music, but, truthfully, there was somewhere else we’d rather be—home in my bed. That’s where we were at 11:00 on the dot. I figured that would give us another hour or more of fun before I had to take her home.
CHAPTER 5
I opened the door and stepped aside for Steffi. She ran past me like she was on the soccer field. If I thought she might be tired I was definitely wrong. She was upstairs with her clothes off before I even made it to the bedroom door. “Eager, aren’t we?”
“You’re damned right—clothes off now!” I almost laughed, but I could see how serious she was and this wasn’t a time to start an argument. I folded my jacket over the chair, followed seconds later by my tie, shirt, pants and boxers. My shoes and socks fell quickly to the floor. There was no hiding my excitement; it was standing out perpendicular to my body and it felt as hard as a rock. Steffi reached for my hand and pulled me onto her. Her lips reached up for mine and we met in a sweet delicious kiss. I fell the rest of the way to the bed, savoring the sensation of her perfect smooth skin. Steffi’s body was still tan from the summer with only her breasts, pubic area, and butt snow white. I wrapped my arms around her, my hands finding the smooth globes of her ass. My fingers ran up and down her butt crack, pausing to tickle her puckered star. Steffi noticed immediately.
“Ooooooh! What are you doing back there?”
“Just playing with one of the most sensitive parts of your body; did you know there are more nerve endings in your butt than in your pussy? If your pussy had as many as your ass all you’d want to do is fuck.”
Steffi laughed hysterically. “All I want to do now is fuck…you.” She gave me that little girl pout look that they all seem to know so well and is so effective on guys—except me!
“Are you trying to tell me something, because I’m having trouble following you.”
She gave me an exasperated, “Aggghhh,” and pushed me onto my back. She straddled me and sunk swiftly onto my hard cock. “Do you understand me now? This is what I’ve wanted all night and I’ll want again tomorrow and the day after that and….”
I put my fingers up to her lips. “I really do understand; it’s exactly what I want, too. I don’t know what I did before I met you, but I know this—I want it to go on and on and on. You’re wonderful and you fuck pretty good, too.” She took one look at me and laughed. God, I loved the way she laughed. In fact, I loved an awful lot about her, especially the way she fucked.
Steffi began to rock, grinding her clit into me. “Isn’t this what they call clock management in basketball? Take a quick shot in the hope you’ll get another before the end of the half?”
“Huh?”
“That’s what I’m doing here—working for a fast one so we’ll have plenty of time for another before you have to take me home. What a waste of time, taking me home. I should just stay here all night then we could really fuck.”
“Maybe, but here’s a thought; when I was a kid I wished we could have Christmas every day until my mother explained that having it once a year made it special. Having it every day would make it ordinary. Now, I’m not suggesting that sex with you would ever be ordinary, but there is a limit as to how often we can do it. We need to cultivate other interests, but not now. Oh God…definitely not now!” Thrusting into Steffi, I lifted her from the bed. We were both into it now—desperate to cum, needing to cum as much as we needed to breathe. We drove into each other at a furious pace; I could see the determination on her face and I was pretty sure I had the same expression on mine. This wasn’t going to last forever, not at the intensity of our mating. Suddenly, Steffi’s expression changed; she was feeling nothing but rapture now. She was only seconds away which was fortunate because I could feel it mounting deep within my groin. I pumped harder—faster—until at last! We erupted together like two volcanoes. Steffi shook with convulsion as my semen poured into her womb. Her eyes were glazed over when she collapsed onto my chest. I checked the clock—11:13; not bad, we may yet be able to fuck again exactly as she planned.
There was no rush now; we lay there together, two lovers in their post-coital bliss. I’d heard that expression before, but until I had met Steffi I thought it nothing more than a myth. Now there was nothing I enjoyed more than snuggling with her at this time. She lifted her head almost a half hour later, a silly grin on her face. I leaned up to kiss her which only served to make her grin bigger and sillier. I was about to ask her about it when she spoke, “I love doing this with you, Rob. It’s so satisfying in so many ways. I can’t even explain how I feel after you make me cum, except to say that I feel totally at peace. Does that make any sense?”
“I think so,” I replied as I pulled her back to me, holding her even tighter than before, if possible. “I feel pretty much the same way, as though there’s nothing in the world except you and me. The feeling is so exhilarating, like my whole body is glowing. I know it’s awfully early in our relationship, Steffi, but I think I’m falling in love with you. I can’t imagine living without you.”
“Oh Rob, I feel the same way. I’ve never known anyone as sweet and loving as you are. I love everything about you.” She punctuated her remarks by pressing her sweet lips to mine for a wonderful loving kiss. It was enough to stimulate both of us. She pulled my resurgent cock into her cunt. We fucked again—slower this time, taking almost a half hour before we climaxed together again. Unfortunately, we had to rise, shower, and dress if we were to get her home by one.
Steffi asked me during the ride if we could see each other tomorrow. Being Sunday I told her I had to attend church. I was scheduled to sing and I couldn’t let them down. To my surprise Steffi asked if she could accompany me. Of course, I agreed, telling her I’d pick her up at 9:15. I pulled into her driveway and walked her to the door. There was time for a quick kiss and in she went. Once again I waited until the door was locked before leaving. I thought on the way back about the crazy improbable series of events that had led me to Steffi.
Loved Part 1. Your hero, Rob, almost could have been me. Tenor, sang exceptionally well from an early age... The major difference is I quit singing when I was nine. My voice started to change then, and it didn't settle until I was about 14 years old.
I still sing, at the age of 57. Barbershop, mostly, but I do Karaoke every now and then.
Enough about me, though. One reason I love this series is that the hero IS a singer, and a damn good one, too. Glad he got a hot girl. I'm looming forward to reading parts 2 and 3...
BoBo0050Report
I still sing, at the age of 57. Barbershop, mostly, but I do Karaoke every now and then.
Enough about me, though. One reason I love this series is that the hero IS a singer, and a damn good one, too. Glad he got a hot girl. I'm looming forward to reading parts 2 and 3...
grumpy1944Report
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ShyEroticGuy15Report
Anonymous readerReport