Double Twist
Chapter 171
“This I want to believe implicitly: Man was born for love and revolution.”
—Osamu Dazai, The Setting Sun
BY THE TIME Lacie left, the rest of the pod had begun to arrive. Cindy and I needed to get some practice in for our new set. We’d record at Joan’s mother’s house next weekend and release it to patrons on the twenty-third. We’d decided to play this set from music when we recorded rather than from memory. We needed memory freed up for important things, like the concert tour in December. By late afternoon, those of us who had been wearing clothes had lost them and we were all relaxing and cuddling in the sunroom. I loved the sight of my eight beautiful girlfriends naked and just enjoying touching each other.
Personally, my hands and lips were well occupied with Cindy. Once she’d pulled off her last article of clothing she crawled into my lap and we started kissing and petting. Cindy had become comfortable with opening her body to the touches and caresses of her pod mates, including me. She no longer hesitated to stroke my cock trapped between her thigh and my stomach as I caressed her breasts. Cindy had filled out in the past year. Her breasts were a firm handful. Her hard nipples jutted away from the pink areolae like a beacon begging for attention. I did my best to give them all the attention they wanted, both with my fingers and with my lips.
But making out wasn’t all we were doing. We’d all discovered long ago that we could enjoy the kisses and touching longer if we were discussing more mundane things while we stimulated each other. I’m not sure if the conversation distracted us from digging deeper into sex or if the petting distracted us from getting into heated conversations. Regardless, we talked as we loved on our partners.
“We’re all set to record at Sharon Long’s house on Saturday afternoon,” Donna said. “Sophie and I went over this morning to check the space. Most of you have been in it and will be comfortable there. We met John there and he has two new camera people he’d like to assign to do a simple recording for his class. I think it will work well.”
“Joan is going to come home. She’s only taking a long weekend, but she’ll get here Friday and leave Monday afternoon,” Beca said. “She has some samples of a new site design she’d like to roll out before the holiday concert tour.”
“And Livy finishes her NSO training Friday,” Nanette said. “She’ll be here by Saturday morning. She said she had an inkling of where she’d be assigned as a permanent station and it would be easier for us to get to her. She wouldn’t say where, though, until she gets the assignment.”
“I invited Remas out next weekend,” I said. The conversations in the room all stopped and even Cindy grasped my hand, held against her breast, to look at me. “We need to start working on the holiday arrangement,” I explained.
“What are we playing for the concert?” Cindy asked. “Have you chosen the music yet?” We’d agreed that she would put together the two recorded concerts for October and November if I’d take charge of what we were working on for the holiday concert. Donna was the only one who knew what I’d chosen because she had to license the rights. She looked at me over Beca’s head and grinned.
“Yeah. I have a ton of work to do on it, in addition to Remas doing the arrangement. It will require brainstorming from all of us—especially Sophie, Britt, Desi, and Cindy—but everyone needs to have their opinions heard on this.”
“So, tell us!” Desi said. “I’m dying of suspense here.”
“Music from Sergio Leone’s spaghetti westerns,” I said. Everyone looked at me blankly. “Like we did for The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly.”
“What the hell does that have to do with Christmas?” Brittany demanded.
“Absolutely nothing,” I said. “We are going to be one hour of a three-hour show. What do you suppose those other two hours are going to be filled with? Honestly, you can only take so much Christmas music. I know because I played every Christmas song I could find when I was trying to decide what we should play. There was simply nothing that said ‘Marvel and Hopkins.’ Last year, our Christmas concert was tangoes. We already established that we don’t do holiday music just because it’s a holiday performance.”
“Why that movie music?” Desi asked. “I mean, I love it because there are some great vocals. What we did with GBU was phenomenal. But… Oh. My. God. You’re going to start a revolution!” I grinned at her. The chatter in the room went wild so much I couldn’t understand anything anyone was saying. So, I returned to kissing Cindy and let my hand drift down her torso and between her spreading legs. She was wet and slick. I wanted to taste my partner’s juices.
“Will it be okay?” she whispered as she gripped my cock and slid her hand up and down its length. “Will the school get mad at us?”
“So far, they’ve encouraged us to express our opinions in the performances. We’ll find out how serious they are. And I don’t plan to start open rebellion. We’ll be performing for huge audiences of agricultural workers and other people in the National Service. They’re going to come to the performance thinking the service is tossing them a little entertainment in exchange for the heinous labor they’re being forced into. I want to give them a message that says we have not forgotten them and we are working for reform that will free them. I want to give them hope.”
Cindy’s hips were moving as my finger found her clit and began rhythmically strumming it. She bucked against me and I slid a finger into her wet channel. She tried to get her lips on mine, but she was so lost in the sensations she couldn’t control where her head faced. I just lowered my face and caught her nipple between my teeth to tug on it. Cindy’s scream brought the rest of the room to silence.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Donna said as she knelt beside us. My finger was still buried in her channel. Cindy revived and started stroking me again. “You know you’ll make a mess there soon?”
“Yeah. Have you ever watched it come out?” Cindy’s voice quavered. “It’s awesome. I promise to clean it all up.”
“Besides Jacob’s finger, what got into you?” Beca asked as she joined us and kissed Cindy’s face. Our youngest girlfriend found her lips and drank deeply.
“Um… Yeah. Sex. But I love it when Jacob talks about our music and what we’ll do to change the world with it. It’s… um… like talking dirty to me. If I’d been able to move, I’d have jumped on his cock and… Oh, God! Look! Here it comes!” I was past the point of no return and hearing how close Cindy had come to fucking me put me over the edge. I dug my fingers deeper into her pussy and felt Donna’s tongue lapping around them to get to Cindy’s clit. I threw my head back as shots from my prick arced over Cindy’s belly and splattered all the way up to her breasts where Beca was busy sucking. Cindy screamed again.
Despite her bold statement, Cindy didn’t get a chance to clean up the mess. She was limp as a wet noodle. Nanette scooped her up and carried her to Donna’s shower where Donna and Beca got it running and the three bathed our girlfriend.
I was pretty shot myself. Sophie, Brittany, Emily, and Desi wiped me off and led me upstairs for a shower and to toss me on the nearest bed to ravage. Sometimes it’s great to be ravaged after I’ve had a massive come like the one Cindy gave me. It made all four girls have to focus and try hard to get me hard. Some of the techniques they used included poking nipples in my mouth while my limp penis was being sucked, planting a wet pussy on my face, and making out with each other. By the time I came again, I’d had my revived cock in each of the four girls and we’d all heard the familiar sound of Cindy coming again echo up the stairs.
I slept soundly.
Desi and Cindy joined Nanette, Emily, and me for the trip to Pokagon Sunday. We swung by and picked up Jock. It was like having the team bus and the fan bus all rolled into one. It was only an hour’s drive on Sunday morning to get to the State Park. The run this year was too late to catch the high school 5k and 10k competitions as they’d already finished sectionals. But the half-marathon was the last qualifier for running in the state finals Thanksgiving weekend at IU. Being qualified for state finals this year required that you finish one of the qualifiers in less than two and a half hours. I’d been well under that in both my previous races. I knew there were three other qualifiers in south and central Indiana that I hadn’t gone to. Out of the six races, I anticipated there’d be a hundred qualifiers for the half marathon. Although separate awards would be given for men’s and women’s champions, all divisions in the race would be run together. In Bloomington, the race was also open to the public, as were all the qualifiers. There simply weren’t any other alternatives for running half marathons.
“What’s the strategy for the race today?” Jock asked Nanette. He was officially my coach but Nanette had managed most of my training this season.
“I think Jacob should go out and just enjoy the run. He’s already marked as a target after the Covered Bridge win. I don’t think he should be trying for a big win or a new record,” Nanette said.
“Besides, I haven’t really run that many courses with hills like Pokagon has,” I said. “There are a few hills on the Bloomington course but it’s flatter than this one. I’d like to find out what it’s like just to run up and down hill.”
“Okay. I’m good with that,” Jock said. “Are you going to pace him, Nanette?”
“I’m going to run for serious time,” Nan said. “I don’t know if that will be faster or slower than Jacob in this race. There were more half marathons in the state this year than last year, but I’ve only run one marathon since Boston. I’ll be training hard for the next month plus to run the marathon in Bloomington again.”
“Too bad Pokagon doesn’t have a full marathon course. But their trails are so confusing you’d be backtracking and passing runners going the other direction in order to get a full 26 miles in,” Jock said. “If we didn’t have regionals, semi-state, and finals still to go for the cross country team, I could work with you to get ready for the marathon. Sorry about that.”
“I’m going to get Jacob to reverse the tables and coach me for the next seven weeks. He still has to stay in shape and be ready to run that weekend, too.”
We arrived at the park and registered for the run. Nanette and I got our bibs on and stretched out. Even though they weren’t high school events, there were still 5k and 10k races run ahead of our start time. I saw a lot of high school jerseys getting ready for the half, though. As the last qualifier, it looked like every school in the north was represented. I wondered how many of these runners had trained for the half and how many were simply disappointed in the 10k sectionals and thought they could qualify in the half. Well, it was possible, but I knew from my own training how different it was to run two 10ks in a row and then tack another kilometer on before you finish. Guys who were fit and good 10k runners would discover they didn’t have the stamina built up for a half marathon.
Running hills is a lot like biking. You have different gears you use in order to keep your pace and momentum. When you run uphill, you shorten your stride to give you more power. When you run downhill, you can lengthen your stride if you’re careful. There’s a reason trucks use lower gears when going down a steep grade. When we hit the first hill, I saw the first of the runners around me trying to keep their pace and eventually slowing to a semi-walk in order to make the summit. Nanette was in the pack of leaders and I whispered a prayer for her to have strength when I saw her disappear over the rise. It would probably be the last I saw of her during this race.
I managed to keep my pace by shortening my stride and got over the rise before shifting gears in my mind and lengthening my stride downhill. I had to be careful because there was a curve at the bottom of the hill and it would be easy to be out of control. In fact, I saw a runner zip past me and crash into the woods at the bottom of the hill. He wasn’t hurt, but he was shaken and had to struggle back to the trail. Lesson learned, I hoped.
It was a good run. My legs were rubbery after making the last hill before the finish line. Nanette got there just before me and she was shaking a little. When we got through the chute, Jock had water and protein drinks for us. I was thankful for that. Breakfast and our light lunch seemed like a long time ago. Nanette won her division again this year. I placed third among the high school students. It was a long way off my time in the last race, but I was pleased and so was Jock.
Cindy and Brittany took their PNSAT on Tuesday and were exhausted at the end of the day. Because of the big test, there were no midterms on Tuesday, but I had tests in my classes every other day of the week. By the time Friday rolled around and we had a day off for the end of term, we were all exhausted.
I got a call Thursday night from Lacie. She’d beaten the rival who pushed her in sectionals but still placed second in the regionals at Penn. She wanted to know if I wanted to help her celebrate but this was way too busy a weekend to commit time to her. I congratulated her and said maybe we could get both pods together for a party when she won the state.
Nonetheless, I was at the airport Friday morning at eleven, watching for my friend Remas and her cello case to appear. She spotted me and picked up her pace to greet me with a hug and a very nice kiss. She was still a study in contrasts and I wondered if there were any people who were surprised that this geeky white guy was kissing a girl in a hijab. She had checked luggage, of course, and I started to turn toward luggage claim when she caught my arm and turned me to face up the exit from the gates.
I think I shouted a little loudly when I saw Rachel walking toward me. I rushed to her and crushed her in a hug. We kissed like the lovers we were until Remas finally tapped us on the shoulders to get us to move out of the traffic.
“How?” I gasped. “How did you manage to get free from NSO training to come home?”
“It seems I was put on special assignment by the National Service that interrupted my training. I’m supposed to analyze the political message of a deputation team and present the results in class next week. I have today and Monday as travel days. I sure hope I can find a deputation team with a political message to analyze on Saturday and Sunday,” Rachel said. I turned to Remas as we headed to baggage claim.
“Were you responsible for this?”
“I might have suggested to Dr. D that this would be a perfect opportunity to show good faith in getting a pod working together. Donna told me Olivia is coming home this weekend, too,” Remas said.
“And Joan might be at the house already. Livy will be so excited to see you when we pick her up at the airport this evening. She’s flying into Indianapolis.” I kissed Rachel again, so happy to be with my true love.
“The whole pod together,” Rachel sighed. “What a dream.”
Nanette and Rachel went to pick up Livy that evening. Cindy, Desi, and I were going over music with Remas. The important thing was to determine which pieces from the body of work would be the best for our sound and possible production. We needed to select an hour of work from over forty pieces of music.
“Are you writing a storyline to go with this?” Donna asked.
“Yes. I have a general outline of what I want to say but no specific script,” I said.
“Shouldn’t you do the script first so you know what music you need for it?”
“You’d think, but when I was researching this, I came across an interesting tidbit. Stanley Kubrick was a big fan of Leone and asked him what the secret was to having such evocative scenes in his westerns. Leone supposedly said that he chose the music first and then put the characters to it. Morricone, the composer, had never read a script of Leone’s. He composed the music before the script was ever written. Kubrick was so impressed that he used that method for Barry Lyndon. We might want to look at that soundtrack sometime in the future.”
“I get it,” Remas said. “We’re defining the characters through the music and then letting them tell the story. But you know what the general story is. It’s just how it will be told that we develop through the music.”
“Right.”
“But we are going to have a script to go by, right?” Desi said.
“Yes, but it will affect the dancers more than the musicians,” Cindy said. I glanced over at her. She got it. In fact, we’d spent most of our practice session this morning talking about it.
“What about other media?” Remas asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, when you did the live stream last month, you had supporting pieces of text projected on the walls,” she said. “I was just wondering if you planned some additional media like that to bring the audience in to the story.”
“I’ll have to talk to my producer,” I said, grinning at Donna. “I think she decided on the projections last time.”
“It’s not a bad idea,” she said. “Even a Sergio Leone movie has some dialog. But I don’t know what we’ll have to work with in terms of a theater space or performance venue for the shows in California. It was easy to project against a wall in DC because we were in an enclosed space.”
“I’ll get a list of venues and support available,” Remas said. “Anytime you need additional information, I’m supposed to get it for you. If you have special requests, I’m the one that will get what you need. This is your first big theater broadcast and you should make sure it has everything in it you want.”
For the first time in months, I slept next to Rachel and Livy. I gave the girls plenty of room to enjoy each other, but they wanted me involved with them and in them as much as possible. And when we’d both ravished Livy, Rachel pulled me on top of her and into her depths where we were truly reunited.
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