Chapter 180

“I felt like an animal, and animals don’t know sin, do they?”
—Jess C. Scott, Wicked Lovely

I FROZE, afraid that any sudden move might frighten this little bird away or distract her from what she was doing. I wanted to thrust with my hips to meet her descent as her vagina slowly engulfed my penis. I watched her face, a smile stretched across it even as tears ran down her cheeks. As smoothly as she took me, I didn’t think pain was what was causing the tears.

“Yes,” she breathed. “It’s real. You are in me. I love you. I never want anything but this. This.” Her hips twitched and I couldn’t help but flex my butt to flare out my cockhead inside her. Her eyes sprang open and she tried the move again with the same results. Then she lowered her lips to mine and while we kissed, she began slowly shifting forward and back to feel the penetration. When she pushed back, I pushed up to meet her and her kisses intensified. We were making love.

We had been working toward this moment, I realized, for two years, since the night of the cast party when I stepped between her and Tom Clemens. Perhaps she’d been planning for it even before that night. We’d built up from simple hugs to cheek kisses to glimpses and lips to petting and oral sex. We’d gone so far as anal sex. Often. But there is something unique ... something special about entering a woman’s pussy for the first time. Especially if she is a woman you love.

Yes, it was more than caring for her and being her friend, protecting her and supporting her career. Cindy and I had fallen in love, as deeply as Beca and me or Donna and me. As completely as Em and me or Rachel and me. As much as with any member of my pod—our pod, shared together.

I continued to hold and stroke her breasts as we kissed and moved together. Cindy pushed away to give herself room to breathe and I saw her begin the random head tosses that indicated her climax was approaching. Then I felt the tongue trace my balls and continue up into Cindy’s crack. She gasped and worked herself on me more fully. Beca’s tongue repeated its trip through our connection and to Cindy’s asshole again and again. I could see her gathering herself for the scream that would issue when she came. And I didn’t care. I was close and might scream myself when I filled her pussy with my come. A siren wail, pulsing up and down in rhythm with the pulse of her vagina, hailed the start of Cindy’s orgasm. I think if she could have spun her head all the way around, she would have. She was a woman possessed by her pleasure and letting the household know it.

When come rocketed out of my cock, my voice joined hers.

8 December 2021

What a relief to have that over. The orchestra concert was good and I survived my solo on the mandolin. Cindy did a beautiful job with her flute solo but I got so wrapped up watching her that I missed my entrance and LeBlanc scowled at me.

Watching Cindy Marvel. My pod mate and my lover. I never thought it would come to this when she asked me to accompany her on guitar for her recital. I think Betty knows. After the concert last night, she looked me up and down before giving me a hug that lasted a little longer than expected. There was moisture in her eyes and I don’t think it was because my playing moved her. She’s the last holdout when it comes to letting Cindy volunteer early but I think she’s tending in favor now.

Now, we are in serious rehearsals for our California concert tour. It starts in nineteen days and we still need to get through finals and Christmas. Remas will be here this weekend for the duration. Doing a holiday concert really messes up the holiday. As soon as our last final is over, Desi, Sophie, Brittany, Cindy, and I will join Remas back in DC to do dress rehearsals with Andy and David. And the tech crew. We’ll be home with our families for Christmas Day and fly out the next morning for California. Remas says we might have 5,000 people in the live audience for our patron stream. Joan says we’ll have that many online. Wow!

I’m going to go pick Cindy up for school this morning. We have our first period coaching with Ms. Devine on arranging music. Not sure I’ll be able to keep my hands off Cindy long enough to get to class on time.

We made it to school on time and managed to pay attention to Ms. Devine as she went over the Rachmaninoff piano prelude Cindy and I were arranging for flute and guitar. We were nearly finished with it and thought it might be the centerpiece for our ‘intimate’ spring concert. It would be a relief to focus on that after the first of the year.

After school, LeBlanc joined Cindy, Desi, and me as we worked on a tricky piece of our Morricone concert. He followed our score closely and made several corrections and suggestions. He still amazes me sometimes. It’s like he could read the music as we played three parts and could hear the other three parts that weren’t there.

We’d recorded the cello, percussion, and male voice parts so we could practice with them, but LeBlanc told us not to use them.

“If you play to this recording, you will practice the same mistakes over and over. In your individual and partial group practice, it is your responsibility to learn the music perfectly, not to learn it with early practice mistakes in it,” he said.

“Do you think Remas and Divine Love are practicing with our tape?” I asked Cindy. “The same thing would apply to them.”

“We should call Remas to make sure,” she said.

“If their directors at the school are as good as their reputations, they won’t be practicing with a tape,” LeBlanc asserted. “Oh, they will listen to the tape so they have a feel for your instruments, but they won’t play it while they rehearse. What keeps musicians together is the score. Every musician in a group plays the same score. If they play it accurately alone, they will play it well together.”

“I’ll check with Andy, too,” Desi said. “This all makes incredible sense after the hour of coaching I got during my audition.”

“I’m sorry to hear you will be leaving Mad Anthony for your last semester,” LeBlanc said. “I had hoped to recruit you for a vocal part in our spring concert.”

“The spring concert is going to be a problem for all of us,” I said. “We’re supposed to perform an hour-long program during spring break, the week before. Learning two programs at the same time has been a killer this fall.”

“We’ll take that into consideration,” LeBlanc said. “I’ll talk it over with your producer.”

After rehearsal, we headed to the farm for pod study night. I needed to review my physics and business math, but really needed to polish my English term paper. It would count as much toward our final grade as the final exam did. I was using Shelley’s Frankenstein as a model to explore experiments that were intended to improve humanity but turned out horribly wrong. I was comparing it to the National Service, which had become a kind of Frankenstein’s Monster, even though it was intended to improve the condition of country and citizen alike. I figured Ms. Pixler would write a diatribe about my treasonous statements and turn the paper over to the FBI. I was more worried about that than our holiday concert.

We were all pretty intense with our studies. Even Donna was going over the final exam she would give her students. Nanette had one more exam for her certification. Sophie was preparing a dance recital for her students. The rest of us were studying for finals and working on papers. Except Emily. She was happily fixing dinner, bringing us little treats while we studied, massaging tired shoulders as we worked.

I’d been worried about Emily. Her job driving a school bus wasn’t particularly challenging. My sister was smart and I was afraid she wasn’t using as much of her ability as she could be and would get bored. She insisted she was enjoying what she was doing and would consider something more challenging when we all moved to DC.

“Hey,” I said to Cindy, “I’d better get you home. It’s almost ten.” She looked at me and grinned.

“Why don’t you take me to bed instead,” she whispered.

“Um ... I’d love to but I don’t want to get either of us in trouble with your mother.”

“Jacob, things have changed. I don’t have to go home on Wednesday nights anymore. After the concert last night, she said it was probably a good thing for me to spend more time with my pod. Bonding, as she said. She checked my bag before I left today to make sure I had everything I would need for school tomorrow,” Cindy giggled.

“Does she know we’re lovers now?” I asked.

“I think she made that leap, though neither of us have tried to confirm it. You know she isn’t going to chaperone us in California? She and Dad are taking the boys to a ski resort in Vermont. Completely the opposite direction.”

“I’m sorry you’ll miss the ski vacation,” I said.

“I’m not. I’ll be spending the time rehearsing, performing, and loving my pod mates. And I think she’ll sign for me in the spring.”

“To volunteer early? That’s wonderful news.”