Jean and I have a standing date at Symphony Hall every third Saturday evening. The seating isn t the best. It isn t even in the main hall. But, for our purposes, my wife and I wouldn t have it any other way. This tradition began when I surprised her a year ago with season tickets.
We love the classics, and in fact met at a symphony rehearsal. One of the offerings of our city s resident symphony is to open rehearsals to the public. A short description of the next concert s selections is made by the conductor in a very informal and refreshing manner, and for those of us who can t seem to get enough of this kind of music, it s a welcome treat. Jeannie caught my eye somewhere in the middle of the second movement of a Tchaikovsky symphony. I introduced myself boldly between movements, and we were married two months later.
After we were married, we attended hit or miss concerts and enjoyed them so much that it just seemed wise to order a season s worth of longhair gratification. The first concert of the season, it so happened, was featuring a Stravinsky program. It was delicious serendipity, to say the least, and Jeannie and I laughed all the way to the performance while reminiscing about our very first encounter with Mr. Igor Stravinsky.
We d been seeing each other regularly after that bold move of mine at rehearsal, and our relationship had been moving toward a more intimate arrangement. Our mutual affection for classical music, as well as many other kinds, continued to be a major source of togetherness and sharing. One night after dinner at an intimate restaurant, we stopped at a music store to splurge a little on new CDs.
We found a section devoted to eroticism in music, which assembled some of the most notorious examples of sexually oriented music written by the masters. We ended up buying three or four CDs from that section and agreed the next stop should be my apartment to audition them on my state of the art sound system. The first CD I put on was Stravinsky s Rite of Spring, a composition we were both familiar with but had not heard in a while. It depicts a pagan ritual, replete with nymphs and satyrs, and is clearly erotic in context.
Jeannie and I sat on my sofa, where we d been many times before, listening to wonderful sounds from wonderful artists. Yet this time seemed different. There s no doubt that we were predisposed to sharing more than just the Stravinsky, and the time was right.
Right from the first note, it is primitive, seductive music. It is savage and sometimes shocking. As we were engulfed in this rising wave of aural sensuousness, our kissing became deeper, our groping more breathless. Jeannie ripped open my shirt roughly and slid it off my back, kissing my chest and tonguing my tiny nipples. I pushed her backward against the arm of the sofa and with the tip of my tongue traced her lips, chin and the line of her jaw.
She arched her back as I trailed wet kisses down her long neck and into the warm cleavage between the sheer cups of her bra. Don t stop, Alan, she sighed. Take me. I want you.
Irresistibly the blood in my veins boiled with the crescendos of Stravinsky s masterpiece as I pulled the black bra down, releasing Jeannie s beautiful, soft breasts. She heaved them toward me, pressing them to my eager face as I buried myself in the burning flesh. Her large brown nipples hardened against my tongue as I flicked and tasted each one. She groaned, tossing her head back, and pulled my mouth even tighter to her tits.
Yes, she sighed, I love that. Oh, yes, your tongue feels so good on my nipples.
She cupped one, offering it to my searching lips, and then the other, until I was grazing back and forth from one luscious breast to the other. I was aware of the rising tide of the music, but the notes had long melded into one erotic wave that swept us up and tossed us violently about the candlelit room. My cock was aching to escape the confines of my slacks and it pressed into Jeannie s thigh with persistent determination. She slid a hand down between our grinding crotches and found my zipper. Slipping her hand into my stretched out underpants, she wrapped her eager fingers around my steel hard cock.
The room literally exploded with a blast from the orchestra as Jeannie pulled my cock out. She squeezed and caressed it, coaxing a drop of pre come from its swollen head.
Take my clothes off, she moaned, sliding back on the sofa, my cock firmly in hand. She looked at me with smoldering eyes and slowly pumped my erection as I reached behind her and unzipped her low cut dress, pulling it off her hips and then down her beautiful stocking sheathed legs. Next I freed the clasp of her displaced bra and tossed it aside. Her nipples glistened with my saliva and beckoned me back for more. As I slathered them hungrily with my tongue, Jeannie opened her thighs and maneuvered me between them, still grasping my hard dick. Instead of leading me to her pussy, she urged me on up until my cock was poised inches from her mouth.
You re so big, so beautiful, she murmured. The music had ebbed slightly, moving into a lewdly arousing sequence. It was music of temptation, of seduction. It seemed to perfectly follow the slow insertion of my prick into Jeannie s mouth. It tantalized, just as her tongue was doing, wrapping around my cockhead. It mesmerized, drawing me deeper into its wanton beauty, just as Jeannie s naked body was doing to my spinning brain.
She pulled me in to my pubic hair, taking every throbbing inch. Her snug throat massaged my dick and I felt every groan and murmur as a tiny vibration. I was so close to losing control that I clenched my fists in an effort to hold back.
Jeannie backed away, sensing my sudden tenseness. She licked the end of my cock and looked into my dazed eyes. Don t hold back, she whispered in a seductive voice I could barely hear over the undulating phrasing of the recording. Come in my mouth, honey. I want to taste you.
I had no control at that point. Her torrid words fired my first massive spasm, and she barely had a chance to get the head of my dick back in her open mouth before thick streams of come began spurting deep into her throat. She pumped me mercilessly with her fist as I emptied into her mouth, squeezing my balls with her other hand, until I was shaking and jerking like someone possessed. As I passed the last of my seed, I slipped from her frothing lips and she instantly began pumping me again.
I was increasingly sensitive and cried out, but Jeannie would not cease. She watched me, eyes dancing with sexual euphoria, as I twitched and groaned. Taking me once again in her mouth, the slippery gloss of my come on her outer lips lubricated my entry and, in mere seconds, I was swelling back to hardness. As she sucked and teased, I reached for her bare breasts and tweaked her nipples, pulling them gently, rolling them. She sucked with a rhythm matching the sensuous music and, as soon as I was fully erect, she slipped me from her lips and began urging me down along her body, back down between her legs.
Put it in me, please, she moaned. Fuck me, baby, with that beautiful cock. Give me more of your sweet come. I was beside myself with desire. I squirmed out of my slacks, dropping them atop Jeannie s crumpled dress. As I accomplished my hectic striptease, Jeannie rid herself of her soaking wet panties and stockings, then we fell back on the sofa, hips grinding together. A loud blast from the full brass section neatly accompanied my first emphatic plunge into Jeannie s hot cunt. Her tightness surprised me, and I nearly lost my second load. She was wet fire inside, and the sublimely textured walls of her vagina massaged me with a vengeance.
I m going to come again, I groaned, trying desperately to hold off. Jeannie reached between the two of us and seized the base of my cock in a tight, vise like grip. The searing jolt of raw pleasure that had nearly discharged my second climax slowly subsided, but surprisingly, I was harder than ever.
Harder, Alan, give it to me, baby! Oh, yes, like that. Ram me with it, again!
Her tortured, ecstatic cries rose above the orchestra and the sofa began walking across the hardwood floor, moving an inch with each rabid thrust of my hips. Her vaginal muscles rippled along the full length of my penis and, with a shout of surrender, I began pumping my second load of hot come in her. Exhausted and blissful, we lay together, entwined, kissing and caressing, as the recording reached its own passionate climax. Such was our memorable introduction to the Rite of Spring.
So, driving to the first of the season s concerts, we couldn t help but feel a soft spot in our hearts for Stravinsky, and for the first selection on the program, the Rite of Spring.
As luck would have it, our assigned seats placed us quite far from the stage, a consequence of buying tickets over the phone without the aid of a seating chart. I d accepted the operator s suggestions and, at least with that evening s seating, was disappointed. Not only were we a mile from the action, but we were unfortunate enough to have a pillar between our seats. This was not acceptable for listening to our favorite coital music.
Are these seats bad enough to miss the performance? I asked Jeannie in all seriousness. The hall is sold out I don t see an empty seat anywhere.
Well, can t we bribe somebody up closer to exchange?
She knew the answer to that before she asked, and her frustrated expression acknowledged the fact. We decided to leave well enough alone and suffer the feeling of detachment for one evening.
It was a decision that wasn t to see fulfillment. The orchestra was into the performance less than ten minutes when I sensed movement in Jeannie s chair. The pillar was in the way of my seeing her face without leaning forward, and when I did there was no doubt in my mind what she was doing. Her face was rapturous, and even in the muted light I could tell she was flushed. She had her coat draped over her lap, as I did, and when I took a closer look, I could see her hand was under the coat, moving rhythmically. Further examination, done very carefully so as not to disturb those around us, revealed another shocking fact. Her hand was not only underneath her coat, it was underneath her dress.
Strains of Stravinsky s provocative music washed over every member of the appreciative audience, but none so thoroughly as my wife. Her eyes were closed and she was breathing very erratically. I carefully reached around the pole and slipped my hand under the hem of her dress. Startled, she glanced at me, then smiled a torrid fuck me right here smile. My fingers found the top of her sheer hose, then the slightly damp crotch of her panties, and there met with her very wet fingers. Someone behind me whispered something to his companion, but the words were lost on me with the swell of the music and the swell of Jeannie s arousal. She gasped as her finger, along with one of mine, entered her pussy. She set up the rhythm and I followed, matching perfectly the phrases and crescendos of the performance until I felt her stiffen and hold her breath.
Oh, God, honey, she whispered, just loud enough for my ears. I just came. I came!
I leaned around the pole once again to catch her flushed expression and slowly withdrew my nectar coated finger. I couldn t resist slipping it between my lips just as the first section of the concert ended.
Rising to my feet, I grabbed Jeannie s coat, motioning her to follow. The audience was taking the few seconds between sections to do their shuffling and coughing and the orchestra likewise, giving us just enough time to make a gracious exit. Just as the second part was beginning, I led Jeannie by the hand down the long, winding hallway that connects the different seating sections. We were moving toward the stage end of the building and the stairways leading to the back rooms. I was frantically trying to remember where the office was located in which we d been served coffee and treats back at the rehearsal two years before. I tried two locked doors before coming across a third one. It was ajar, and while it wasn t the room I was seeking, it turned out to be even better.
We were literally under the stage floor, having followed a series of downward leading staircases. We may as well have been sitting in the string section. Every note, every vibration, echoed around us with thrilling presence.
I closed the door behind us and locked it from the inside, banking on an assumption that no one during the performance would be interested in entering anyway. It was not exactly a romantic atmosphere, but it had the necessities: privacy, muted lighting, Stravinsky s libidinous music and a large sofa. I took Jeannie into my arms and pressed myself to her, slipping a hand into the low neckline of her dress and my tongue between her parted lips. She gasped and shuddered as I pushed away the material of her lacy bra and filled my hand with her breast, kneading it feverishly, feeling the desire swell wildly in my pants.
I am going to make love to you, I declared, here, now. To our favorite fucking music.
I unzipped the back of her bodice and peeled away the top of her dress, then unclasped the disheveled bra. Her luscious breasts poured into my hands, warm and supple, their brown tips tightening into rigid points as I ran my tongue across them.
Oh, Alan, Jeannie groaned into my ear, I love you so much. Sucking a nipple into my mouth, I reached down to tug the remainder of her silky dress off her hips. As it fell at her feet, I slid my hand under the waistband of her sheer panties, slowly working my fingers through her soft pubic hair until I encountered the moist opening of her vagina. She trembled, mashing her crotch against my questing finger until I had penetrated to the last knuckle. Her breath grew hot against my face. It s so good, she moaned. You re making my pussy so hot.
I inserted a second finger and coaxed from her cunt a fresh flow of liquid as she began gyrating to the barbaric pulse of Stravinsky s score. She seemed lost in all consuming rapture. Withdrawing my fingers, I offered them to her. Purring, she took them between her lips, sucking her own nectar from my flesh.
Eat me, she commanded in surprisingly guttural tones. I want to feel your mouth on my pussy.
I backed away long enough to discard my clothing, tossing everything in a careless heap, then pushed her back against the locked door. Kneeling before her as if in worship, I slowly slid her sex scented panties down to her ankles. She stepped out of them and rotated her dripping cunt toward my eager mouth. Grabbing a handful of my hair, she pressed my face to her pussy, writhing, gasping. Her sweet nectar was flowing so freely it dribbled onto my outstretched tongue as the lips of her slowly undulating pussy parted, inviting me further inside. Drinking at her front, pumping my hard cock with one hand as I knelt on the carpeted floor, I drilled deeper and nuzzled her rigid little clit with my upper lip until she was squirming uncontrollably.
Oh, yes, lick my clit, Jeannie groaned. The music seemed to rise and fall with her labored breathing and led me in the phrasing of my strokes. I lapped at her flowing juices until she became weak in the knees and started to squat. Oh, Alan, I m coming, I m coming, she chanted, her voice eerily accompanied by a low roll of the timpani. Hurry, put your cock in me, please. Come with me, baby.
I rose to my feet and swept my wife into my arms, carrying her to the sofa. The orchestra was entering a long, escalating crescendo with an ominous brass chorus. A repetitive, primitive rhythm reverberated in the walls as I lowered her supple body to the cushions. Jeannie s pungent aroma filled the room as she spread her legs for me and grasped my erection with one hand, pulling me toward her seething opening. Then she lay back and I sprawled on top of her, letting her guide me into her hot, pink chasm.
Now, honey, she cried, fuck me hard. Give me your come, baby!
I fell against her, sucking one of her stiff nipples into my mouth as my cock drilled deep. She thrust against me, matching my every stroke, and soon we were in perfect sync with the erotic and seductive rhythm of the performance above us. The music carried us into a sizzling, carnal utopia as our groins slammed together over and over, faster and faster still, until Jeannie cried out in sheer ecstasy. She raked at the flesh on my back with her fingernails and clamped her legs around my waist, providing the trigger for my own explosive climax. I unleashed a boiling load of semen into her quivering vagina just as the music delivered its final stunning note. My orgasm could not have been better timed if we d choreographed it. As the last surge of semen coursed through my shaft, I moved my mouth from Jeannie s breast and kissed her long and deep, keenly aware of the roar of applause and stamping feet going on over our heads.
That night was the beginning of a fine tradition, one we have attempted to carry on at each concert. Over the months we ve only been disappointed a couple of times, finding our favorite room locked. But even then, it s amazing how little space an enamored couple actually needs to share a few moments of sexual bliss, and even more amazing how many symphonic works lend themselves so well to unabashed lovemaking.