Mr Mouthful

by Ian O Lewis

  Joshua’s eyes glanced up, questioning why I’d done so. I rubbed the head of my cock against his hole, then let only an inch slip in, so I could enjoy the heat of his tight ass. My fingers grasped his nipples and gave a little squeeze, all the while I slowly slid back inside. I wanted him to feel every single inch as I invaded his hole. Unintelligible syllables left his lips as I increased the pace of my thrusts. Seeing and hearing his pleasure was sending me close to the edge of my own orgasm. Making Joshua come was my primary goal, and by the way his ass muscles were tightening around my shaft I knew that moment would be here soon. I would not stop until I saw his come flying out of his thick cock.

  Soon I felt the grip of his muscles tighten around my shaft, contracting more and more around my length as I pummeled his ass harder. I wrapped my fingers around his cock now, delighted to feel it slick with his pre-come. I squeezed it as I kept thrusting into him faster, the headboard now smacking the wall behind it in time to my urgent fucking.

  “Oh God, I’m going to come Serge, I can’t, please, oh God Serge!”

  “Come for me baby, just let it go Joshua, shoot your load for me babe.”

  I felt his ass gripping my cock as the first jets of milky liquid landed on his neck, then covered his sweaty torso writhing beneath me. With every ejaculation his ass squeezed my girth even tighter, and the beautiful sight of his face contorted in pleasure finally sent me over the edge.

  “Oh babe.” I moaned as I felt his ass squeeze the come out of my cock, his ass milking every drop out of me while euphoria spread through my limbs. My knees weakened, and I fell forward, my chest glued to his. I encircled my arms around him the best I could, then I felt laughter bubbling up from deep inside.

  “Serge, what’s so funny?”

  “Everything, and nothing at all. I don’t know. I’m not laughing at you, babe, I’m just laughing because I’m so fucking happy. You make me deliriously happy.” I guffawed against his chest. “Joy, that’s why I’m laughing Joshua, you fill me with joy.”

  A moment later I felt his chest move, then little giggles came out of his mouth. Nothing in my life had ever prepared me for this moment, the sheer peace and beauty of holding this man who’d made me feel things I didn’t even know existed before.

  I never wanted it to end.

  When we finally climbed out of bed it was almost noon. The temptation for both of us to call out at the symphony was huge, but ultimately Joshua was the better man, insisting we get our asses in gear and go in for rehearsals. Since we needed to be there by one pm, Josh took a shower at my place and I gave him a pair of slacks and a shirt he could wear. There was only one thing bothering me; Joshua was acting very skittish about anyone finding out about us at work.

  “You don’t understand Serge, like the woman next to me, Onnie Belle Sanford, she’d accuse me of sleeping with you for special favors, or for preferential treatment. I mean, she’s nice and all that, but you know how musicians are. They’re jealous, and if they knew we were, well, you know…”

  “We’re what?” I grinned, suppressing the urge to rip the towel from Joshua’s waist and throw him back in bed. “I don’t care what anyone thinks about me, as I’m sure you’ve noticed by now. Don’t pay her any attention. She’s been there since the earth cooled, has never once tried for a solo or to play for the opera or sinfonia. I researched every single musician before I showed up for the first rehearsal. Sounds like she’d be more interested in sticking her nose in other people’s business than anything else. If she gives you a hard time, you let me know and I’ll…”

  “And that’s precisely what I don’t want you to do. I have to make it on my own merits, and if people suspect I am sleeping with the conductor, it will make anything I’ve earned look suspect.” Joshua crossed the room and took the clothes I’d selected for him out of my hands and kissed me on the cheek.

  “You are making it on your talent and hard work Joshua, not because you have the tightest ass in RVA.” I laughed, then sat on the edge of the bed to slip my loafers on. “Seriously, I’m not kidding about that. You are very gifted, and I would never have requested that you rehearse after work every day if I didn’t think you could keep up with me.”

  When I said that, Joshua pulled the shirt I’d loaned him over his head then sat next to me.

  “Why did you want us to rehearse in private together?”

  “Three reasons. First, because I compose music and need to hear what it sounds like when another musician plays it. Second, it helps me to, I don’t know, bounce ideas off of someone else? You know about this, I’m sure. The creative process is lonely as hell, and without the input from a musician I trust, I’m more apt to mess up.” I stood and grabbed my car keys off the dresser. “Come on, let’s get to work.”

  “Give me those.” Joshua stood and held his hand out for the keys. I dropped them in his outstretched palm and smirked. Why he persisted in thinking I was a bad driver was beyond me, but if he wanted to drive, I wouldn’t stop him.

  “Oh, and what’s the third reason? You know, for wanting to rehearse with me.” He placed his index finger on his chin and waited for my answer. I debated whether I should make up something artsy, or answer honestly.

  The truth won out.

  “Because I wanted to get in your pants.”

  17

  Josh

  “Don’t pull into that spot. Keep going.” Serge instructed as we navigated the parking deck on Grace Street. I kept inching forward until I saw the reason why. Of course, he had a reserved spot with his name on it.

  “Perks.” He winked at me, then after I cut the car off I dropped the keys in his outstretched hand. God, the simple act of his winking at me made my cock twitch.

  “Must be nice.” I sighed, then reluctantly got out of the luxury car and retrieved my cello and sheet music from the back seat. Damn it, I didn’t want the last twenty-four hours to end, wanted us to go back to the sensual world we’d created under his cobalt colored silk sheets. When I shut the car door and turned toward the elevator, I noticed a couple of guys from the brass section eyeing Serge and I as they got out of their car. Both had a wide open stare that reminded me of how careful we needed to be to avoid discovery.

  Thankfully, the elevator door was open, so we walked inside and I immediately punched the button for the ground floor of the garage. They’d have to catch the next one.

  “Did you see those guys from the horn section?” I asked Serge.

  “No, didn’t notice anyone.” He shrugged his shoulders and whistled quietly. His lackadaisical attitude was driving me insane. I could tell he’d seen them and wondered why he was acting so nonchalant about it. Maybe this wasn’t a big deal for him, but if my fellow musicians found out we were, well, you know, it could make things very difficult for us.

  “Look, Serge, I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but we can’t let people know about, well, what’s been going on between us. It can…”

  “What’s the big deal? It’s not like I’m going to drag you up to the podium and fuck you in front of the orchestra. Please, Joshua, you’re making this a lot bigger than it needs to be.” Serge leaned over and kissed my cheek right as the doors to the elevator were sliding open. His lips burned on my skin, but it terrified me that someone would see us. I darted out before he could say or do anything else.

  When I got to the stage door entrance I turned back, a sudden pang of guilt stabbing me in the gut. Serge was on the other side of Grace Street, just standing there, watching me. His lips were pressed firmly together, and he was shaking his head slowly back and forth. He lifted his hand and made a shooing gesture. I couldn’t tell if he was urging me on so we could both walk in alone, or if I had pissed him off. Fuck me, this man would send me to an early grave, or to the mental ward. Probably both. I glanced down at my watch and realized we only had two minutes before rehearsal was supposed to start, so I prayed for the best and hurried inside.

  “I can’t believe I left my rosin at home. Can I bo
rrow yours sugar?” Onnie Belle asked, batting her eyes at me. She had painted her lips the same color as her burgundy hair, and she looked like a goth southern belle, if that was even a thing. I handed it to her then focused on taking even breaths to calm myself before Serge arrived. I’d hurt his feelings, I knew I had, but I was petrified of the attention I’d get if anyone caught on to us. It was also dawning on me that what was going on between us was definitely more than physical. I mean, yeah, my body instantly responded to the sight of Serge, but there was so much more to it than that. His cocky attitude and swarthy good looks served as a smokescreen of sorts, deflecting attention from the real man underneath the surface. Serge had allowed me a glimpse of who he truly was, and I realized that I didn’t want to share that part of him with anyone. If our fellow musicians discovered our affair, it would not only expose me, but it would expose him to a level of scrutiny I wasn’t sure he understood.

  “Thanks, Josh... oh my goodness.” I turned to see Onnie Belle’s eyes grow wide and her mouth hanging open.

  “What?” I asked, holding my hand out for the rosin. She dropped it in my palm and smirked.

  “Looks like somebody has been up to a little naughty fun. Tell me all about him dollface!” Onnie Belle giggled, then pointed at my neck.

  Shit.

  Blood rushed to my face. The worst thing about being a redhead was when you blushed it was very obvious. My hand rose and attached itself to the part of my neck she’d pointed at. I swear Serge had done it on purpose, marking me as his.

  “Honey, you have nothing to be ashamed of.” Onnie Belle laughed. “At least someone is getting some action around here. Now come on, spill the beans. Who was he and how big was his…”

  At that moment the doors at the back of the hall flew open and Serge and his assistant Peter started down the steps toward the stage.

  Serge was whistling and had a definite skip in his step.

  Peter’s eyebrows were scrunched up, as if he were trying to figure out a difficult math equation. Every other step he took he’d glance at Serge and shake his head. That’s when I also noticed Peter was walking next to him, not his usual three steps behind.

  “I hope everyone had a lovely weekend.” Serge exclaimed when he stood in front of the orchestra. He reached over and shook the hand of the first violinist, and then silence ensued. “I thought we could try something different today. Peter, would you please?” Serge gestured to his assistant, who pulled a thick folder out of his battered leather case and distributed sheet music to the different sections. Soon, the rehearsal hall was buzzing. I instantly recognized the music. We’d practiced this piece many times, though I hadn’t known that he wrote it for a full orchestra.

  “You might notice this is a contemporary piece.” Serge sighed, then sat on the black stool behind his music stand, “and that I am the composer. When I accepted the position of musical director, part of the deal was the board of directors would commission one piece of new work from me each season.” Serge’s face was lit up from within, and I could hear whispers coming from the musicians surrounding me.

  “Orchestras are still performing music by long dead composers despite new music being created every day. It’s like we are living in a musical mausoleum, always celebrating the dead while ignoring the living.” Serge shrugged off his plain black jacket and handed it to Peter. Suddenly, the violin section began tapping their bows against their music stands in approval, followed by the rest of the strings section, including myself. Serge’s jewelled black eyes popped for a moment, then a giant grin spread across his face.

  “Hopefully your enthusiasm will remain after you’ve played it.” Serge winked, provoking laughter. “I want none of you to get the impression that I hate the classics. They are our bread and butter, and we must perform what the audience wants to hear. But, I believe the key to expanding our reach isn’t only going to be accomplished playing the same old Beethoven and Mozart every season. It will take creativity and nerve, and all of you will play a huge part in this.” Serge leaned back on his stool for a moment and stared up at the ceiling. My eyes immediately zeroed in on the purple splotch on his neck.

  A very obvious bruise was under his left ear. I peeked sideways at Onnie Belle, praying she didn’t notice it. The string section once more began tapping their bows against their music stands, except for her. Her mouth dropped open for a moment and she turned to me. I was busy tapping my bow like everyone else, hoping her suspicions would fade. Thing was, I’d told her about that first private rehearsal Serge and I had. All she had to do was put two and two together and she could make my life miserable.

  Seconds later she was tapping her bow like the rest of us, but while doing so she leaned over and whispered in my ear.

  “You are the luckiest son of a bitch I’ve ever known.”

  After rehearsal I scurried out of the hall as quickly as I could to avoid a possible interrogation from Onnie Belle. I raced to Serge’s office to find out if we were conducting our usual private rehearsal, since he hadn’t mentioned it in the car. When I got there his office door was closed, so I walked past it to speak with the secretary. Unlike the last few times I’d seen her, she was smiling and looked downright happy to be there.

  “Hi, I need to speak with Serge. Or maybe you could just ask him a question for…”

  “Josh, Serge told me you might stop by. He says to meet him in Rehearsal Room D. He also said he’s running a few minutes late, so take your time getting there.” She said, then her gaze intensified on me. Shit, why the hell couldn’t Serge have given me a shirt with a collar. Suddenly the petite blonde woman stood from her desk and threw her arms around my neck.

  “What are you…” I muttered, wondering what the hell was wrong with her.

  “You are the reason he’s so nice now. Thank you, Josh.” She smiled, then kissed me on the cheek. “I was going to turn in my notice, but Serge is like, human now. Oh, please don’t tell him I said any of this to you.”

  After reassuring her that I’d keep my lips sealed, I wandered off to the rehearsal room. Most of the other musicians had left immediately after rehearsal, so the building was mostly deserted. It gave me time to think about my behavior toward Serge, which for the most part I regretted.

  Not a single soul had been upset about us. I could’ve sworn Onnie Belle would’ve gone crazy with competitive jealousy, but instead her reaction was the opposite. Maybe Serge was right and I was worrying myself to death over nothing. Plus, the look on his face as he stood across the street from me when coming in to work today haunted me. I’d totally been an asshole, and he still wanted to meet with me to rehearse.

  Shit, what if he was meeting me here to break it off with me, because I was such a dick earlier?

  I pushed open the door to the small wood panelled room and noticed the small stack of sheet music sitting on the piano. Butterflies were exploding in my gut, all because of this enigmatic man. I leaned my cello against a chair then sat on the piano bench, curious to see the music we were going to practice. Wow, this was the original music, not the computer printouts we usually used. Good God, Serge wrote this out by hand using a freaking ink pen. No erase marks, and I couldn’t see a single instance of him using Wite-Out. That took guts, talent, and incredible self-belief.

  “You sir, are driving me to distraction.” I muttered, then I started pecking out the melody on the keyboard. It was haunting, yet oddly light and serene. Like the composer who wrote it, the music was a marriage of polar opposites that somehow worked. Mysterious and light, peaceful yet haunted. Was this the only way I’d ever truly get to know him, through his music?

  At that moment the door flew open, and Serge stood in the doorway, a sly smile and one raised eyebrow amplifying the devilish gleam in his eyes.

  “Miss me?”

  18

  Serge

  “I’m sorry.”

  Josh confused the hell out of me, which was probably why I couldn’t keep my hands off of him. Every time I saw those sparkli
ng blues framed by his dark eyelashes my heart would lurch in my chest. I strolled over to the piano, placed my bag on top and pulled him to his feet.

  “Why are you apologizing?” I said, then pulled him into my embrace. His hands shook as they wrapped around my waist. Seeing him was enough to make my cock lengthen. Touching him did even more, and it sprang to life, becoming granite hard in the space of two heart beats.

  “You were right, I shouldn’t have worried about what people would think of us.” Josh whispered in my ear. “It’s just, this, whatever this is that’s growing between us is happening so fast. It’s scary.” He pulled me tighter against him, and this time it wasn’t just his hands shaking, it was his whole body trembling. God, was he scared of me? Damn it, he was probably the only man on earth who should never fear me. I placed my hands on both sides of his head and pushed him back just enough so he was staring directly into my eyes.

  “Joshua, please don’t be frightened of me, or of this. You aren’t the only one feeling this intense attraction. Trust me, it’s mutual.” I stated, then leaned in and brushed my lips against his, lightly at first, then I pressed my lips harder against his mouth. Josh groaned, a primal sound starting at his diaphragm that worked its way up his chest and elicited a similar groan from me. Damn it, Josh would make me do and say things I’d never done before. Grant had been my first, teaching me what relationships were about, but what I was feeling now was so much more than what I ever felt for him. I broke the kiss, then the words spilled out of my mouth faster than I could consciously think of them.