Double Tears
Chapter 149
“Girls are the only ones who can really give each other close attention, the kind we equate with being loved. They noticed what we want noticed.”
—Emma Cline, The Girls
I DIDN’T IGNORE Desi and Brittany. Once we were sure we had shown our senior girlfriends how much we loved them, we left them cradled in each other’s arms and moved to the other bedroom. There, I tried to show the two of them that I loved them just as much as I loved Rachel and Livy. When I could no longer rise to penetrate, my tongue continued to lap at their juices, my fingers continued to invade their tight little pussies. And when I was finally exhausted to the point of passing out, the two girls had one more round with each other and passed out sprawled across me.
Like at last year’s prom, the rest of our girlfriends joined us after we were showered and presentable in the morning. The ten of us went to brunch, sharing our adventures and excitement.
“You have another record number of downloads already for last week’s concert,” Beca announced. “We released it on YouTube last night and there’s another spike in viewers. Like always, a spike in viewers means an increase in sales of the tracks and of merchandise.”
“How do you get that information so fast?” I asked. I pulled my little girlfriend close for a hug.
“Joan! She gets so excited when you release a new video that she stays up all night watching the action,” Beca giggled. “Then she calls me before I’m ready to wake up in the morning. Which is okay because she always talks us through a nice come before we talk business.”
“You girls are too much!” Rachel laughed.
“What would I need to do to be included in one of those early morning calls?” Donna asked. We all laughed but I saw Beca wink at her.
“So, what’s next?” Cindy asked, looking at me.
“We need to put together our playlist for the audition,” I said. “We are to have a selection of pieces that meet specific criteria that we are ready to simply play when they say something like ‘Desiertos Ladeado, please.’ We need to prepare our instruments and start playing. And that includes solo pieces in addition to things we play together.”
“Do we really need to do this, Jacob?” she asked. I’d seldom seen Cindy seem so uncertain.
“Are you not wanting to do this, my Pied Piper?”
“No, I do. I’m sorry. This seems like so much more pressure than we usually have for a performance. I don’t want to mess things up for you,” she said. I nudged Desi and she quickly traded place with me so I could sit next to Cindy. I put my arm around our youngest girlfriend.
“I want this for you, sweetie. We’re dreaming of something big. I’ll be your partner for as long as you want me, but I want to launch you into a career that will be everything you dream of. Don’t worry about me.”
“That’s exactly what you should both be doing,” Sophie said. “You are both launching each other. I hope you are launching something together. But it’s always helpful to stay focused on making your partner look as good as possible. That’s what we do in dance, too. And you could be leading all of us into something big. Do it for yourselves, but do it for all of us.”
“Thank you, Sophie,” Cindy said. “I appreciate the way you reduced our stress there.” We all laughed, but having Cindy make a joke about it was what we all needed. And I needed to be aware of the fact that Cindy’s wasn’t the only life I was affecting. I’d been struggling to reconnect with my pod since Pey’s death. When I looked at the nine women around our table and thought of Em and Joan, I just overflowed with love for them.
17 May 2021
I’m trying to figure out if the school schedule could be made in such a way that could more effectively ruin our holiday. We have two weeks of school left before Memorial Day. Then we’re off for a holiday weekend and come back on Tuesday to start final exams. Like, who is going to enjoy the holiday when we’re all trying to get ready for finals?
And, I admit, I’m a little worried about the audition schedule. We’ll be leaving for Lawrence, Kansas for the Ren Faire on June 23rd. We need to have our program ready for that, too, and I don’t even have an instrument for our troubadour performances. I can hardly ask Riley to give me another lute guitar. I’m thinking I need to bite the bullet and buy a mandolin but I don’t know if I can learn to play it well enough before the faire to make it worthwhile.
I’m going to ask Herr Richter to help me order the right viol this afternoon. If nothing else, I want to be ready to include it in our repertoire during the audition. I think we’ll be carrying a lot more instruments with us than we’ll actually need. Donna said not to worry about transportation. Our camera crew has agreed to join us for the trip and Sophie is working with the audition contacts to get the taping approved. Donna’s hired the camera crew—just two of them since we won’t be streaming live—to travel to Kansas with us. But then Cindy and I will have a week apart while I join Em for her last week of service and to help her move home.
At least I’ll have that week with Em so I won’t feel guilty about not spending as much time with her when we get back and Cindy and I have to spend every available minute prepping for the audition. I sympathize with Cindy about the stress she’s feeling. There are just so many unknowns. We were told to both prepare solo pieces as well as our duets.
And I want to spend as much time with Livy as I can before graduation. She leaves the next week to start her service. In fact, I need to head out now to meet her so we can run together this morning and then get a shower together before school. She’s under as much stress as we are. I love that girl and I’ll do whatever I can to help her succeed.
Well, life sure isn’t allowing me any time to mope about.
I was back in a routine as we counted down the days of the school year remaining. If it weren’t for having huge papers due for English and creative writing, I would have pretty much checked out. Latin was mostly rote memorization though we had to read and comprehend more of Virgil for the final exam. I was dredging most of chemistry up out of my V1 memory. At least he was useful for something. I was functioning pretty well in accounting and John was giving me time to work with my team on putting together a plan for how we’d do our reality special this summer. I was really glad I took this advanced photography class even though I spent more time in front of the camera than behind it. I learned a lot about staging and camera presence. I know it was helping me when I worked with Cindy.
And that was the other thing—working with Cindy. LeBlanc was focused on the chamber section, basically a pared-down segment of the orchestra that would travel to the State Orchestral Competition in Indy right after commencement. Cindy was in it but I wasn’t. He dismissed the rest of the orchestra to a practice room where we basically jammed when we were doing anything creative at all. Most of us studied other subjects.
After school I had an hour with Herr Richter. I was beginning to learn the drone and loved what it did to the tone of even a simple piece. Monday, we spent most of the time together finalizing my order for a viol of my own. Dad transferred the insurance money for my guitars directly to my account so I could order what I wanted. As soon as we got the viol ordered—to be delivered to Herr Richter so he could examine it and verify it was what I wanted—we did a search for mandolins.
I could see that over the course of a few years, I was going to have a lot of different instruments. I’d assumed I would get a lute but there are a hundred different kinds and tunings and music is harder to come by. LeBlank and Richter both advised me to look at a mandolin as my medieval instrument because the standard tuning was the same as a violin and there was a lot of music I could use for that. We chose a bowl back mandolin with eight courses (strings) tuned in pairs. The two major differences in playing the instrument were the tuning in fifths instead of fourths and flat picking. I didn’t care for flat picking the guitar because it has only one tone at a time and depends on speed of moving the pick. Herr Richter said the mandolin has more depth in flat picking because of the twinning of the strings so you pluck across two strings tuned to the same pitch. The other alternative, of course, is strumming chords and if I wanted to do that I’d become a rhythm guitarist in a rock band. We called Vinnie and told him what I was looking for and Vinnie said he’d take care of it. And even with the viol and the mandolin, I had enough money in my account to pay for the guitar Vinnie had loaned me. I was getting to like it a lot, especially for Spanish and flamenco music.
Cindy and I met each day immediately after my practice with Herr Richter. We spent as much of our time with pencils, listing and categorizing our repertoire, as we did actually practicing. We worked in the practice room Monday and Tuesday so our video crew could get some footage. Wednesday, we left school and went to Donna’s. Most of our pod was already there for our normal Wednesday study session. We needed to keep working and occasionally burst into music. I saw Donna and Sophie in a close consultation and they called Rachel and Beca, along with us, to Donna’s office.
“We’ve been looking everything over,” Donna said. “Sophie has gotten the school to agree to let us film your audition and interviews, as long as we agree to be there the weekend of the 17th and audition on the 19th. They think it would be a good way to promote their program and suggested you might even want to do a live stream or recording while you were in DC.”
“Cool.” I was willing to let them just handle that end of things. I didn’t want to think about it.
“Yes, cool. But it means our project is an official go. We need tape of you in lots of different situations,” Sophie said. “And we need you to think about what you’ll say when the tape is running.”
“You mean scripting it?” I asked.
“Almost. When we turn the cameras on, we need to know what is going to be captured. Not every word, but the intent of this session,” Donna said. “For example, it would have been good to have the camera going this afternoon while you two were sitting on the sofa with all the music spread around you. Visually it would have been dynamite. I don’t think we’d want to be recording you bitching and moaning about LeBlanc, though.” Cindy and I had gotten distracted a bit while we were supposed to be comparing the two arrangements of Mozart’s Piano Sonata No. 11 in A Major. One focused on just the music as arranged for our two instruments and the other borrowed heavily from the arrangement of ‘Mozart in Hell’ that we’d started with. Instead, we sat with the music in front of us complaining about how LeBlanc wasn’t being supportive and had us working separately instead of together.
“Okay. Maybe that wouldn’t have been good television,” I admitted.
“Oh, it would have been good television. It wouldn’t have been good for your careers. Other teachers and conductors are going to see this and wonder if that is how you’ll be talking about them on tape.”
“Ouch.”
“So,” Donna continued, “without having a script, we need to know the topic we’re filming and that you’ll stick with it. Not that you can’t have a joke or laugh during it, but that we eventually get from point A to point B without wandering around too much. And we need to include the rest of the pod in some shots, a few at a time and all together. A family discussion at the dinner table, for example, would be great to record.”
“I don’t want to mess up everyone’s lives,” I said.
“Jacob, that’s what we’re talking about,” Beca responded. “You have to stop thinking of it as you and Cindy against the world. We’re a pod. It’s all of us in this together.”
“Do you realize what hope you give us for our future?” Rachel asked. “Livy and I are down to weeks from starting our service. Emily is weeks from ending hers. What you are doing is giving us all hope that we’ll be able to do something worthwhile and personally meaningful during our service. I’ve no doubt that picking apples in Washington is important to the nation. But personally meaningful? I can see a long period of depression setting in.”
“We’ll do whatever you need us to,” Cindy said. “No, hush, Jacob. You talk about how you are just my accompanist and want to do whatever you can to launch my career. But this is really what it’s all about. We’re launching our pod. This is what I was missing before I met you. I had talent and skill but no purpose. It’s as important for us to be at the Ren Faire performing with Desi as it is to be auditioning in DC. Just as it’s important for us to be cheering for Livy in the sports camp and encouraging Rachel to rise to her best when she goes to basic. We’re each adding different things that will help us become a better family.”
I nodded at my young partner. She nailed it. Beca was on one side of her at the table and Rachel was on the other. The two squished Cindy between them in a hug.
Thursday night, Nanette slipped into bed with me. She and I were living at Donna’s full time now with my parents in Nan’s house. We tried not to just habitually sleep with each other, though on nights when I was alone, I really felt it. Fortunately, our other girlfriends slept over on some kind of rotation that I was sure was planned but couldn’t tell. The girls all seemed to have a plan I didn’t need to understand.
“I want you tonight,” Nan said. “I’m feeling exceptionally horny and all I’ve been able to think about all day is having your hard penis in my vagina. I wanted to use those words so there was no mistaking what I want. This hard penis in my wet vagina, pumping in and out until I’ve shuddered through a massive orgasm and your sperm is shooting uncontrollably into me. Is that explicit enough?”
“Explicit. Yeah. Wow, Nan. You don’t usually come off so aggressive about sex. Anything else I should know?”
“Yes. I’ve had Livy between my legs for the past hour and if you don’t just jump on me and start pounding, I’m going to scream.”
We had a little laugh but I hustled to crawl between her legs and push my cock into a hot squishy mess. Nanette moaned and started humping up at me as I built up a head of steam, pistoning in and out of her. Nan’s short hairdo made it easy for me to nibble on her neck and ears as we punctuated our coupling with moans, whines, and occasional profanities. Unlike Nan’s normal one and done, she powered through to another orgasm, dragging me along with her. When I collapsed on her tight lean body I was completely drained. We lay gasping and pecking each other with our lips as our heartrates returned to normal.
“Tomorrow morning, we need to chase Livy through the woods. We’ll give her a sixty-second head start and then chase her down. Fox and hounds. And when we catch her—wherever we are—we strip her and have our way with her.”
“With a sixty-second head start, we might never catch her.”
“With the promise of being stripped and fucked, she might not even run.”
The rules of the chase were simple. We couldn’t take shortcuts or cut corners. Wherever Livy ran, we had to run. So, if she ran around a tree and came right back at us, we couldn’t just reach out and grab her—we had to go around the tree, too. She surprised us by taking off for the road instead of the woods. Nanette and I waited our sixty seconds and started pursuit. I guess the threat of being grabbed and stripped alongside a county road was exciting for Livy but also motivating to get the mile plus around to the far side of the woods and cut in. We were just out of the woods into the driving range after about two miles when I got a hand in the waistband of Livy’s shorts and started tugging. That slowed her up enough that Nan was able to grab the back of her sports bra. Livy kept making running motions even though we were slowing her down as she raised her arms so Nan could pull her bra up over her head. By that time, I had her shorts down off her butt and she was laughing so hard she just stumbled forward and fell on the ground. I dragged her shorts and underwear off while Nan feasted on Livy’s nipples. I pushed Livy’s legs apart and dove between them to lick up her light blonde curls.
“God! I must be sweaty and smelly down there. How can you stand it?”
In response, Nan lifted Livy’s arm and licked from the side of her breast to her elbow.
“It’s the scent and flavor of our girlfriend,” Nan said. “There is no part of you we don’t love. Besides, as soon as Jacob gets his pole in your hole, you’ll get my sweaty smelly twat on your face.”
“Yesss,” Livy hissed. She shuddered through an approach with my finger in her pussy and my tongue on her clit. Then I shoved my own shorts and shirt off and crawled forward to plunge into her as Nanette straddled her face. Post run sex is hot and sweaty and dirty when you are rolling around in a grassy field. Donna had been spending Saturday mornings for the past three weeks riding the mower around the grounds so the grass was thick and springy. After her first big orgasm and the load I left in her pussy, we scrambled around into a daisy chain and Livy sucked me while Nan ate her and I ate Nan. Even though this was supposed to be about Nanette and me fucking Livy, we ended up with me on my back, Livy on my face, and Nan posting on my cock.
By the time we were too exhausted to move, we were all three grass-stained and had loose grass stuck in every possible place on our bodies. We didn’t bother dressing. We scooped up our clothes and walked up to the house. Rachel and Donna were on the deck and it was obvious they’d been in a sixty-nine while we were fucking. Their faces were glazed and tasty.
We went in to shower and get dressed for school and work. All five of us crammed into Donna’s shower and scrubbed each other with our bodies.
Before we knew it, we were all sitting in the Coliseum watching Rachel and Livy receive their diplomas. There was a wide range of expressions on the faces of the graduates. Within the next year, they’d all be starting their service. Livy in just a week and Rachel in a month. Some still saw graduation as a moment of celebration and freedom. Others looked at it as the beginning of their servitude and the end of liberty.
We needed to change this. Maybe we couldn’t get 28 repealed in time to save half a generation from whatever labor the government saw fit to impose on them. But we could get rules and regulations changed. We could fight to have more say in the kind of service we performed. With luck, we’d even be able to affect the kind of labor conditions in the fields and farms where workers would continue to be assigned.
And maybe we could keep our pods and our families together.
END PART XII
END BOOK 3
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