Clarinet.
EDIT: Oh I edited the ending a bit. It was too abrupt previously. The main body of the story was edited slightly too.
EDIT #2: Well apparently some people kept making noise at the 'capitan' typo I made, so I changed it =.=
It has been ages since I last wrote an erotica, and I know my skills at descriptive writing have deteriorated, but I still hope this story makes erotic sense, and sense in general, and I hope you guys enjoy it as much as the intended recipient of this story, whom I hope is reading this (;
Yes, it's you, C.
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Yea, I know I shouldn't be lusting for my captain, but when the dick strikes, what can I do? There was just this gravitational pull she had over me, and without meaning to, she had captivated my dick and all I could think of was what lies beneath her clothes and whether under all that tanned skin was a woman aching for what I want.
It was an out-of-the-blue bolt, much like all other bolts, and this one was worse because we were in the same CCA. She was my captain, and behind all that logic she had when conducting debate trainings, I couldn't help but think of her as a full-fledged woman--in every sense of the word. Her disposition was...intimidating to say the least, but there was just this thing about her intimidating aura that attracted me. I was very interested in her, and it was largely due to her that I joined Debate in the first place. And now that she's stepping down from the CCA I can't help but feel this sense of loss. I didn't want to live in regret, and I didn't want to join Debate for nothing. This was the very last day of her captaincy.
I didn't know how it happened, but I managed to muster my courage to approach her after her own work-out in the school gym. Well to be honest, I've never went to the gym before and when I saw her heading towards the gym I decided 'Hell, why not?' and just popped in.
I didn't greet her or give any form of acknowledgment to her presence though. I simply went to the dimly-lit area of the rather large gym, and just lifted the dumb-bells, which kinda resembled me at that time as I stared at her working at the treadmill. You'd think it'd be boring to watch someone jog, but this isn't so in her case. Every movement of hers accentuated her perfect figure, and I was jealous of every sweat on her body as they shared that physical bond with her that I could only dream of. Even as those beads of perspiration were duly removed by a callous swipe of her hand, I still felt that pang of longing, as that very callousness is in itself a form of attention--the kind that she'd never give to me (I was never outstanding in Debate, I was too..intimidated and my brain was in my briefs). And as usual, gravity and the gravity-defying act of jogging pushed her boobs to a new bouncing limit that wasn't to be trifled with. Her singlet threatened to fall off at one point, and she seemed oblivious to that fact and I was actually hoping for it to fall off, I needed to see more, I needed to see her in her entirely naked form, I needed so much more than what she had to offer, but she re-adjusted it after awhile. It did not stop her bra from protruding, it did not stop little patches of her well-endowed chest from making their appearance, and it didn't stop me from lusting for her.
So when she finally stopped after a gruelling 40minutes (yes, she lasted that long and at quite a fast pace too), I was totally unprepared for her sudden departure. When she turned around I thought she saw me, but even if she did I won't ever know--it'd be a miracle if she even knew I was from the very same CCA as her. I looked down at the dumb-bells I was holding onto in dejection.
When I heard the door opening, I chanced to take a quick look at her retreating back, that same seductive back I'd give my life to stare at for the whole day. I couldn't take this in its entirety, it was too surreal--a sweaty goddess, with her singlet clinging onto her very shirt. The lights illuminated her sweat-glazed arms, and those beads of perspiration was just too much for me to take. I just..didn't know how to react and my mouth was agape in wonder. The door closed behind her after what seemed like an eternity, and that's when reality hit home.
I'd never get her.
In a fit of anger, I threw the dumb bells I was holding. Well, technically it wasn't throwing since gravity worked better than I did, but it still remains a fact that I attempted to throw them. I picked up my towel and headed for the showers.
That's when I heard a familiar voice from the female showers. She was singing! I don't think she knew, but I was stuck there listening to her melodious voice, oblivious to the people walking around me wondering why I'm situated immediately outside the female toilet without movement. She was singing a..rather melancholic song, probably because today is her last day as the captain of Debate. Do women always sing in their showers?
Her captivating voice melted me though. I wasn't exactly 'stuck there listening', but more of recollecting the precious memories I had with her. It's probably not precious to her of course, seeing as I didn't make much of an impact in her life, but she doesn't need to reciprocate the devotion I have for her. It's a precious memory that I could keep for myself--and I'd be contented with just that knowledge that I've once dative-bonded with her.
I'd always remember the way she speaks, the strength in her tone as she proves her points when in a debate, how her eyes sparkles when she is amused by her teammates, how a gracious smile of hers can seemingly brighten up my whole day. I am content to know that she is happy, and I am content that I've witnessed her happy side. I do not need to make her happy--it is OK to remain status quo, if that means her happiness remains.
I'd always remember how she breaks out in cold sweat when faced with a tough opponent. I'd always remember how her shirt will stick to her body whenever that happens, and how..alluring it is when that actually happens. I'd always remember how I can almost see her delightfully tanned skin under all that clothes which have turned translucent by the sweat, and I've always marvelled at how her male opponents are able to press on with their point without any biological reactions. I'd always remember how she'd smile graciously after every defeat (which doesn't happen often) at the whole team, and encourage us to move on. To be part of her life in such setbacks but being unable to do anything to change the outcomes of such debates is certainly regrettable, but I'm just...somehow glad to know that beneath all that intimidating presence is a real human, and I'm glad to have been part of her life, no matter how insignificant my role is.
I'd always remember the quirks in her behaviour--from the way she flicks her hair and the way her hair can always settle neatly wherever she wants to place them, to the way her long, attractive legs fold whenever she's deeply engaged in a conversation. I like the way she changes the way she sits (to avoid pins and needles presumably), and the way her panties would always nearly make their debut when she does so. I like the way she can remain so innocently seductive, and it totally made me crazy.
Suddenly, I could hear the quavering of her voice as she ended the last few verses of that song. I could hear her breaking down. I don't know why, but the aforementioned courage overwhelmed me and I rushed into the (thankfully, and perhaps not-so-thankfully) very vacant female showers to find her collapsed in a heap sobbing uncontrollably and beating at the puddles of water on the floor. That naked sight was one I couldn't take in, because my neurones were flooded and I nearly fainted there and then by the magnitude of what I had done and what I'm about to do. I was so tantalizingly close to what I had wanted all the time--her attention.
And I did get it this time. She looked at me in my eyes and was quite shocked by my presence. Well, she looked shockingly pleased, and that is shocking itself. What was she pleased about? Why is she pleased with a peeping dick?? But those were questions left unasked, as she was seated cross-legged in the showers and she was resting sideways on the wall, and the whole picture of desolation was too much for me to bear and I took her in my arms without any further hints or explanations. In my arms, she looked so frail, so..weak, so in need of protection. Her slightly hair pussy was telling of how chaste she is, thus the lack of shaving, and as I approached her and as her head rested on my chest, I could see her nipples standing erect under the scalding shower. Yes, I was presuming a lot, I was presuming that she wouldn't mind, but I couldn't help it. I wanted to protect her from everything, and having her in my arms was all I needed to make my life complete. And I needed to make hers as complete as mine is.
I needed to make her feel better.
I don't know which warmed her better--the shower heater or my burning heart. But whichever the case is, she seemed to feel better in my arms. Her sobbing became more..controlled and she managed to smile at me--a seemingly complete stranger in her life. But if she's comfortable with that I guess I don't have the rights to complain. I never had the rights to complain. It is already...my honour to have this angel cradled in my arms, completely open, naked, to my purview.
It started to grow uncomfortable for me though, and the hot water wasn't helping. Never knew that the school invested so much in such effective heaters. I was still fully clothed, and certain biological reactions that should occur when a heterosexual male has a desirable female in his arms (even more dire when naked) occurred. She certainly felt a sizeable bulge forming in my pants, and she smirked and coyly suggested that she doesn't want to be the only naked person in the showers.
Basically, my response was to become like the incredible hulk in my pants--I ripped every shred of clothings off me.
Rawrrr.
And the inevitable happened of course. So there I was, standing (since you generally have to stand to rip off your clothes) proud and tall (and long, hopefully), when she looked at me with those glazed eyes, telling of her own state of arousal. She wasn't one to talk though, there's nothing much to talk about anyway, and ultimately she couldn't talk when her mouth was full (;
Yep, she had me in her mouth there and then, in one sleek movement. I've always wondered whether a debater's tongue would be good for such heavy-duty work, considering how glib and fast they can get, and let's just say that she didn't disappoint and I was making too many guttural sounds I thought I'd spoil my voice and future job prospects. It was erotic watching my Indiana Jones disappearing into her buccal cavity, and it was even hotter to see her eyes burning into mine, with desire for more.
And more was what I had to offer, and delivered.
I wouldn't settle for just a blowjob. I lifted her from her kneeling position, and pushed her back against the wall and thrust my fingers roughly into her sweet snatch. I needed to feel her down south, and I needed to feel just how aroused she can be. As I pushed past her folds, she started moaning and shivering uncontrollably, and I felt her pussy contracting around my fingers--I couldn't believe I brought her to orgasm just like that! She had either a very low threshold for such stimulations, or was already stimulated by my mere presence. She moaned for me to stop as it was getting too sensitive for her to handle, but I couldn't care less, I needed to have her and I needed her to know how much I wanted her. I thrust myself into her, and every subsequent thrust caused many little deaths in her. Her back was on the wall, and the shower just kept running, keeping us ever warm, ever painful, but our burning passion we had for each other isn't one that mere water, boiling or not, could stop. The soft pitter-patter of water further illustrated just how alone the 2 of us are, and this, this was our undisturbed sanctuary despite it being a public place, school shower, no less.
This, is where we'd first mate and hopefully, not the last.
As my thrusts gained speed, her moans gained volume. Her back scrubbed the walls of the showers diligently, as diligently as I would have it. Our lips melted in a whirl, and our movements hard to follow as we blurred into one, a fusion, an amalgamation of two bodies. That day, a single being was formed.
But all good things have to cum to an end. I was nearing the end of my rope, far longer than expected, because she stimulated me to no end, but I somehow managed to hold back the inevitable for as long as this fusion took to occur. But still, it had to end.
As I didn't have a condom, I was nervous about getting her pregnant, but she assured me that I could pull out and give her a huge facial under the punishing hot, scalding shower. Right when I was about to pull out, she wrapped her legs around me and yelled : "BE MY BABY'S DADDY!" I couldn't get out in time. FML.
Now I'm stuck with a baby whose parentage I'm not entirely sure of.
Now I know the reason behind her tears, her melancholy.
Now I know what I am to her.
-- 10/18/2010 12:17:00 AM