Band Geek Diary
Copyright© 2014 by OldBillyBob
Chapter 1: August
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1: August - John Barnett, son of Billy and Lily from "Band Parents," is a freshman band geek. These are excerpts from his diary, recording his observations of life in a high school band and what he sees and understands of his parents' antics. John finds a girlfriend along the way, and some interesting things happen to him as the school year goes by.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa mt/ft Ma/ft mt/Fa Teenagers Consensual Romantic Heterosexual Fiction Humor Analingus Cream Pie First Masturbation Oral Sex Petting Safe Sex Voyeurism
August 12
Marching band practice started this week and I’m officially in High School. The first couple of days, they had the freshmen and the new people off as a group while they taught us to march. After that, the whole band was together, trying to learn the formations and the music. The band director, Mr. J. as we call him, is a perfectionist and he keeps going over parts that we aren’t getting right. I’m dying out there. It’s a hundred degrees and I’ve been hauling this mellophone (a marching version of the French Horn) around, trying to read my music with sweat in my eyes while trying to remember which way I’m supposed walking. I must be doing OK, though. Mr. J. only yelled at our section twice this week, and only called my name out once. The Euphoniums, though, seem dead set on screwing around.
I noticed something on Monday morning when we all reported for Band Camp. After my dad checked me in, he stayed and helped Mrs. Kowalski, the booster club president. That part isn’t unusual in itself. My dad’s a nice guy that runs his own business from home and he must have had the time to be helpful. He’s just that way.
What caught my attention was that he was still there when we took our first water break. He was still there when we took our second. In fact, it was nearly lunchtime before Dad went home. I may only be 14, and I may not have had too much luck with the girls, but I know flirting when I see it. My dad and Mrs. K. were seriously flirting. It was like Ring Lardner wrote (hey, I’m a nerdy kid. I read a LOT.) “He gave her a look you could have poured on a waffle.” She was looking at him like she’d enjoy being that waffle.
I’ll have to watch that pair and see what happens.
August 19
It’s the second week of band camp. Mr. J added one more element to the band: The Pit. The Pit is a sideline percussion ensemble with xylophones and tympani and a bunch of other percussion stuff I don’t know the names for. The players in The Pit are either percussionists who didn’t make the drum line or the kids who play double reed instruments. Apparently, nobody marches with oboes or bassoons. They had a lot of stuff to move on and off the practice field, and Mr. J. encouraged us all to pitch in. Most of the kids didn’t, of course, and I wasn’t really in the mood to move heavy equipment myself. I packed up my mellophone and started trudging back to the band room with it.
When I got to the bottom of the ramp that leads off the practice field, there was a girl about halfway up it trying to move a cart with two kettle drums [tympani] on it. The cart must have been heavy because she was really struggling with it. She pulled hard, then slipped and landed on her butt. She let go of the handle and the cart started to roll back down the ramp. I hollered at the kids below to get out of the way, tossed my horn case off to the side and tried to wrestle the cart to a stop. A couple of other kids helped me get it under control without it hitting anything or anyone. I noticed that the girl was still sitting there where she’d slipped and that she was crying. I went over to her.
“Are you OK?” I asked, putting a hand out to help her up.